Japanese Plays

by A. L. Sadler

  SECOND VENDOR: Yes, that’s a wonderful history. And now let me tell you the history of mine.

  FIRST VENDOR: Very well. Go on.

  SECOND VENDOR: When the Taira Chancellor Kiyomori Jokai was having his garden made, a great rock, to stand as a pillar in it, was dragged by three thousand men from the northern mountains of the capital as far as the gate of his mansion, but they could not get it any farther. Then my ancestor of that time stood forth and said: “If your Excellency wishes to have that stone properly placed, please tell me where you intend to put it, and I will draw it into position with my ointment.” At this my lord Jokai and all his attendants burst out laughing at his vain words, but told him to do it if he could, but if he did not manage it they would declare him nothing but a boasting vagabond. So my ancestor, putting a little of the ointment on his finger, blew on it, and, facing the great stone, exclaimed: “Draw that stone!” Whereupon the stone was gradually drawn into place by it. Then Jokai and all his attendants exclaimed in amazement at the marvellous power of the ointment, and asked what its name was. And when they were told that it had no name, but was only called drawing ointment, they said that such a wonderful ointment ought certainly to have a special name, and as it could draw even stones, they gave it the name of the Finest Stone-drawing Ointment in the World. And since that time my ointment has had no equal in the world.

  FIRST VENDOR: Indeed, that is a wonderful record. Yours is no whit inferior to mine. Suppose we explain the composition of our ointments, and then try them against each other. What do you say?

  SECOND VENDOR: Certainly. And what are the ingredients of your ointment? How is it made?

  FIRST VENDOR: Ah, mine is very difficult to make. It has all sorts of strange things in it; for instance, the fish that traverses the ground; the turtle that flies through the sky; the clam that lives in a tree, and things of that sort.

  SECOND VENDOR: Ah, it must be difficult to get such things. My ointment is made of very precious things too; for instance, white crows; the living liver of red dogs; three-legged frogs, and so forth.

  FIRST VENDOR: Things like that are indeed difficult to come by. They aren’t to be had at all now. So what do you do?

  SECOND VENDOR: That’s just it. You can’t get those ingredients at all now. The ointment I have is what has been handed down from my ancestor, and used sparingly, a very little at a time, ever since.

  FIRST VENDOR: So I supposed.

  SECOND VENDOR: Now shall we make trial of our ointments?

  FIRST VENDOR: All right. Pray proceed.

  SECOND VENDOR: Let us smear some on the end of our noses and see which will pull best. Ready?

  FIRST VENDOR: I’m all ready. I’ll pull you right to Kamakura!

  SECOND VENDOR: That’s not likely. Ah, ah! Mine is pretty powerful too. I’ll pull you all the way to the capital!

  FIRST VENDOR: Oh, no! I shan’t go to the capital. How now? Ha! How strong it is. Come on, to Kamakura! One pull won’t do it!

  SECOND VENDOR: No, that it won’t. Mine is strong too. Now then! One pull to the capital! Ya-a!

  FIRST VENDOR: No you don’t! What’s this?

  SECOND VENDOR: I’ve pulled you over anyhow! I’ve won! I’ve won!

  FIRST VENDOR: No, no! That wasn’t fair! Another try! No you don’t! I won’t let you off!

  RAKU-AMI

  TRAVELER: Alas! The poor mendicant finds a dog at every gate! I am a man of the eastern provinces, and as I have never seen the Shrines of Ise, you now behold me on my way thither. Weary and travel-stained, I plod my way onwards, lacking even a change of raiment, and now I have come to Beppo in the far-famed Province of Ise.

  PILGRIM-SONG: Rapidly he pushes on his journey, and soon he has come to the pine-grove of Beppo. And on a certain pine he sees the tablets and “tanzaku”* are hanging, and what look like many “shakuhachi.”† Surely concerning these things there must be some tale, so he would ask the people of the place. Is no one here?

  MAN OF THE PLACE: What would you ask of us who live round here?

  TRAVELER: I see these tablets and “tanzaku” on this pine, and many “shakuhachi” hang upon it. There must be some story of these things, and ’tis of this I would inquire.

  MAN OF THE PLACE: Ah, concerning that matter. In former days there was a flute-player called Raku-ami who played the “shakuhachi” until he blew himself to death, and the people about here, feeling sorry for him, buried him here, and planted this pine in memory of him. Perhaps your reverence will, of your charity, say a prayer for him in passing, even though your affinities have nothing in common. I perceive that you also play the “shakuhachi” for you carry one stuck in your girdle.

  TRAVELER: No, no. That is only to frighten away the dogs. Still, though I have no connection with him, I will not refuse him my prayers.

  MAN OF THE PLACE: And if there is anything else you wish to know, please ask us.

  TRAVELER: I will.

  MAN OF THE PLACE: At your service.

  TRAVELER: So here lies the remains of Raku-amida-butsu. In memory of his sad story I will take this “shakuhachi” that I have here and play a tune.

  GHOST OF RAKU-AMI: How delightful the sound of the “shakuhachi.” He plays the tune called “Sochogiri.”

  TRAVELER: How strange! It is as though I saw a shadow haunt my dreams.

  CHORUS: The tenor flute; the alto flute; the soprano flute; the double flute he hears! And who is he who stands enchanted by the liquid tones?

  GHOST OF RAKU-AMI: I am that Raku-ami who of old time did blow myself to death upon this pipe. Your mellow notes have charmed me from the shades.

  TRAVELER: A miracle! To hear Raku-amida-butsu of ancient fame thus speak to me is strange indeed!

  GHOST OF RAKU-AMI: Wherefore do you think it strange? For in the book of the “shakuhachi” in the Temple of Ryoanji we read, that when the two extremities of the bamboo are cut and determined, between the eighteen inches of its length a whole world lies. And in one melody that breathes the spirit of impermanence there lies a power of communication that transcends the confines of the Empire.

  TRAVELER: Indeed you speak truth. For it is by virtue of this flute that I hold intercourse with Raku-amida-butsu famed of old. In it is the knowledge of all ages.

  GHOST OF BAKU-AMI: ’Tis true indeed. For by the flute I was well-known even in the eastern provinces.

  TRAVELER: Indeed!

  GHOST OF RAKU-AMI: How full of meaning; wondrous pleasing is this pipe! But I can play nought but discordant tones. Such have no power to sound beyond our borders, so I will lay my instrument aside, and do you play.

  TRAVELER: We’ll play in concert.

  GHOST OF RAKU-AMI: No, no! I would not make your melody discordant.

  CHORUS: So at his bidding he takes the tenor flute, and puts it to his lips and plays a tune: To-ra-a-ro-ra, ri-i, ri-i, to-ra-a-ro, ra-a-ro, fu-u.

  GHOST OF RAKU-AMI: What cherished memories it recalls! But now I must return.

  TRAVELER: Alas, how sad your fate! Pray tell me how it came about.

  GHOST OF RAKU-AMI: Well, I will tell you. In former days I used to wander round with doleful countenance, playing my “shakuhachi” to chance travelers or in front of rest-houses or at people’s doors, whether they would or no; and if I did not get a copper for my pains, I would get angry and would revile them, and then, crying out that my playing was execrable and not to be borne, they would take a carrying-pole and send me flying. And to this day among the shades I labor with pole and cord at my old flute, heating and treading and twisting and pulling to shape the bamboo aright. I pray thee aid me, priest. For until now my great attachment to this art has kept me bound to the circling wheel of birth and death. How hateful is my love for this old flute.

  Footnotes

  * Poem slips.

  † A vertical flute.

  THE ACOLYTE’S WATER-DRAWING

  INCUMBENT: I am the incumbent of this temple. Today I am expecting several of the donors who are coming to consult about
something, and I must have plenty of water for tea, so I will call that acolyte to go and draw some at Shimizu. Hullo! Where are you?

  ACOLYTE: Here I am!

  INCUMBENT: Ah, that’s right! There’s just a small matter that I want you to do. I’m expecting my wardens in a short time, and I must have some water for their tea, so just go and get me some at Shimizu, will you?

  ACOLYTE: I should be very glad to go I’m sure, but the fact is that I am suffering from an attack of that beriberi that I so often have, and am quite incapable of the exertion of drawing water, so please send Icha who lives by the gate here.

  INCUMBENT: No, no! I don’t want to have to send women. Besides it is getting dusk now, so I think you had better try and go.

  ACOLYTE: Oh no, I really cannot. Please send Icha.

  INCUMBENT: Well, well, it’s no good my saying anything, I suppose. You’d better take yourself off, as you’re no use.

  ACOLYTE: Yes, sir. (Aside)–Ha, ha! Splendid! I’ve got off just as I meant to, and I daresay Icha won’t mind much either.

  INCUMBENT: H’m, this is very annoying! Still, there’s nothing else to be done, so I must send Icha, I suppose. Hullo! Are you there?

  ICHA: Yes, sir. Do you want me?

  INCUMBENT: Er, there’s just a little thing I want you to do. I’m expecting some guests in a minute or two, and I should be much obliged if you would go to Shimizu for me and draw some water for tea.

  ICHA: Oh certainly, sir. That’s no trouble at all. I’ll go immediately.

  INCUMBENT: Ah, I’m glad of that. I’ll wait here. Here’s the bucket, and please be back soon.

  ICHA: Certainly, sir. I’ll be back in a minute, so please don’t be anxious.

  INCUMBENT: Yes, yes. Please do.

  ICHA: Dear me, what a bother! Coming like this all of a sudden and telling me to go down to Shimizu and get water! Troublesome old nuisance! It’s that acolyte’s business to draw the water. What is the meaning of his coming and asking me like this? Well, well, here we are. Ah, this water is always so clear and crystal. Just the thing for tea. Yes, he’s right there.

  ACOLYTE: Ah! I got him to send Icha for that water instead of me, and she must be already at Shimizu by this time. She and I have become very friendly lately on the quiet, so I have told her that I shall go there after her and we will have a little talk together at leisure. That will be nice. Now I shall be off to meet her. The old rector doesn’t know anything about this, and he doesn’t seem very pleased that I refused to budge. Well, here we are, and now where is Icha? Ah, there she is all alone, singing to herself as she draws the water. Hullo there! Icha! So here you are.

  ICHA: Oh! You are here, are you? I heard that you declared that you couldn’t go out because of your illness when the rector told you to draw the water, so what are you doing here?

  ACOLYTE: What have I come for? Why you know we haven’t had a really good chat for a long time, and as I have a lot to say to you I thought it would be a good idea to meet you here, so that’s why I suggested your being asked. It’s all lies about my being ill; the fact is I wanted to see you.

  ICHA: What a silly thing to do! Someone is sure to see you. And I didn’t want the bother of having to come here either. You had better go back at once. I think it was very unreasonable of you!

  ACOLYTE: Well, I never! But I want to talk to you, so I shan’t go.

  INCUMBENT: I sent that girl Icha to draw water, but she seems a long time about it. I wonder what she’s doing. I’ll go and see. Why, what’s this? If it isn’t that acolyte! Didn’t you tell me you couldn’t go because of your beriberi? What do you mean by it?

  ICHA: Oh, you see he thought I was a long time, and so he came to see why it was.

  INCUMBENT: Why, what next? Do you expect me to believe that? I’ll turn you out! Don’t you show your faces near me any more!

  ICHA: Oh but, your reverence, really it wasn’t his fault at all!

  INCUMBENT: Now, Icha, you wench, don’t try to get around me, you bad girl!

  ICHA: What’s that you call me? I won’t stand that! I don’t care even if you are the rector!

  INCUMBENT: Why, what do you mean, you pair of loose good-for-nothings?

  ACOLYTE: What you want is a good spanking! (Beats him.) Come, Icha, I’ll give you a pickaback home. Poor thing!

  INCUMBENT: Yai! Yai! What do you mean by treating your master in such a way? Your next rebirth will be a wretched one! I’ll pay you out!

  THE CUTTLE-FISH

  PRIEST: “Without a little tea-money how can I get on my way? I am a priest from far-offTsukushi, and as I have never seen the capital, I thought I would like to make a pilgrimage thither, begging bowl in hand. Perhaps you may think that the people of Tsukushi are liars, but in truth I am a real pilgrim, and thus I have arrived at the shore of Shimizu. No time have I lost, and this is the place that is called the shore of Shimizu.

  GHOST: Ho, there, priest! I have somewhat to say to you!

  PRIEST: And who are you? And what have you to say?

  GHOST: I am the ghost of a cuttle-fish who died here in the spring! Pray for my soul most earnestly!

  (And so saying he vanished away.)

  PRIEST: This is a most extraordinary thing! I think I will ask some of the people about here. Is anyone there?

  MAN OF THE PLACE: And what is it you would ask of me?

  PRIEST: It is but a random question, but was there not a cuttlefish caught here in the spring of last year?

  MAN OF THE PLACE: There was indeed. Last spring a very great cuttle-fish came to this beach, and the people about here much admired its size; and those who caught it, fearing some retribution might fall upon them, set up this memorial and said prayers for its soul. But why is it you ask?

  PRIEST: For no special reason except that when I arrived at this place, why I know not, the ghost of this cuttle-fish that you have told me of, suddenly appeared to me, and, after asking me to pray for its soul, vanished away.

  MAN OF THE PLACE: Then there is no doubt that it is the ghost of that cuttle-fish, and though you may have no connection with it, I beg you to say a prayer for its welfare in passing.

  PRIEST: Well, so I will.

  MAN OF THE PLACE: And please tell me if there is anything else you wish.

  PRIEST: I will. Well, there are many kinds of Buddhist prayers for the dead, but I will say the Hannya Shin-kyo over the ghost of this cuttle-fish. Ano-ku-tako-sambyaku-san-sen-de-kote—this will I offer to the Buddha for the soul of this cuttle-fish. Namadako! Nama-dako!

  GHOST: Ah, how can I thank you for this blessed mass!

  PRIEST: How very strange! Here in broad daylight, though it seems to be a man, yet a man it is not! I pray you tell me who you are.

  GHOST: I am the ghost of the cuttle-fish who spoke with you before, and I have come to thank you for your prayers.

  PRIEST: If you are the ghost of that cuttle-fish, I beg you tell me how you met your end, and I will say more prayers for your soul.

  GHOST: I lived for long by this shore, and went hither and thither to escape the net of the fishermen, but last spring they spread a large net in the offing, and as I was unable to escape from it I was hauled up on the beach. Pulled upon the chopping-board I was stretched out and the knife was drawn across my back, and my eyes grew dark and I could not breathe. Thus I was I pressed down face downwards and scalped, and when I rose again on all sides there were cuttle-fish stretched out to dry and bleaching in the rays of the sun, salted and with their legs cut off. But soon I escaped from this torment, and entered the blessed Garden of the Law, there to attain Enlightenment and become a Buddha. How thankful I am for this grace, and now I lift up my voice unceasingly in the holy invocation, “Namu Amida Butsu.”

  (And with this invocation, “Nama-dako,” he vanished away.)

  DONTARO

  DONTARO: My home is in the capital, but I have been away in the country for a long time, and have just returned. I have one house in the upper town and another in the lower, so I am wondering
which to go to. My real wife lives in the upper town, so perhaps I’d better go there. Well, here we are. Ho! Within there! I have come back. Open the gate!

  WIFE: This fellow has been away in the country for three years without sending me a single line. I shan’t open the door to him.

  DONTARO: I quite understand; but as I have been very successful, please open the door.

  WIFE: But as I heard nothing from you I have taken a quarter-staff champion to keep me company.

  DONTARO: I don’t allow any men to stop with you without my permission.

  WIFE: Hi! Hi! There’s a troublesome knave here! Bring your staff and break his back for him!

  DONTARO: Yah! All right, I’ve got a nice little maiden in the lower town. I’ll be off there. Ah, here we are. Hullo there! Dontaro has come back. Open the door!

  GIRL: What? That troublesome fellow again? Dontaro Dono went away into the country three years ago, and I’ve heard nothing of him since. I shan’t open.

  DONTARO: Open quickly! I’ve made my fortune and come back to see you.

  GIRL: I’ve taken a halberd champion for my companion. Do you want him to give you a drubbing?

  DONTARO: I can’t have that. You mustn’t have any men companions!