by A. L. Sadler
O TSU: Yes, her name was O Tsu too.
KAKIĒMON: Even if it was. She was very different from my O Tsu.
O TSU: Still all the same, girls—
KAKIĒMON: Ought to take care they don’t get broken. Ha-ha-ha! (Laughs as he shuts the door of his workshop from the inside.)
O TSU: O father, please forgive me! (Leans against the persimmon-tree and weeps.) Women are more frail than pottery, and I have been so unlucky as to get broken. I’ll go to some remote place and die there so as not to bring any shame on you, so think of me as dead from today. (Steps up into the room.) Ah, this has all come about through my indiscretion. I seem to see my father’s grief-stricken features when he knows I am alive no longer. I must write some explanation to him before I go, though I won’t write everything…only that I can’t stay at the Aritaya any longer.
There’s a brush and ink-stone in here somewhere.
(Goes in. Just then Kurisaku comes back with his basket and the obi in his hand. He looks in and then returns the basket to its place, puts the obi into a cupboard in the workroom, and then sits down again in front of the wheel to resume his work, but before doing so he gets up again and draws the wrapper closely in front of him so that he will not be seen, after which he gets on with his work. Then O Tsu comes out and lays the letter she has written on the God-shelf in the lower part, steps down from the house, and turns to the right.)
O TSU: Oh, father! Please forgive me for making this bad return for all your kindness.
(She makes a low obeisance and then hastens away up the road. Kurisaku comes out from behind the wrapper and runs over to the workshop and knocks vigorously on the door.)
KURISAKU: Master! Master!
(Kakiēmon opens the door and puts his head out.)
KAKIĒMON: If that’s anyone come for money I owe, send them away.
(Goes to shut the door again.)
KURISAKU: Master! It isn’t anyone for money. O Tsu has just gone off.
KAKIĒMON: Well, what of it? She’s gone back to Imari. What are you making such a fuss about?
KURISAKU: If it was only her going back it would be all right, but she seemed strange somehow.
KAKIĒMON (coming forward involuntarily): O Tsu seemed strange, you say ?
KURISAKU: Just wait a moment, master. She seems to have put something on the God-shelf. (Brings the note.) It’s a letter, master.
(Kakiēmon takes it and reads it, muttering the words to himself in a horror-stricken undertone.)
KAKIĒMON: I hadn’t the least idea, right up to this moment, that she had any trouble. We must go after her.
KURISAKU: Right you are, master.
(They start off. Gohei, who has come up and been standing behind the fence listening, now enters.)
GOHEI: What’s this I hear? O Tsu run away? Has she really?
KAKIĒMON: Oh, Gohei San. You are just the person I want to see. Please come in.
(Both go into the house.)
GOHEI: Is that a letter from O Tsu that you’ve got there? What does she say, I wonder?
(Looks uneasy.)
KAKIĒMON: She doesn’t say very much; only that some misunderstanding has arisen between you and your family because of some fault of hers, and so she has gone away to a distant province where she will trouble nobody. The rest is only apologies for unfilial conduct. Now, what can it all be about, I wonder?
GOHEI (looking relieved): Well, as Imari is more than seven miles from here, I suppose you haven’t heard anything about it, but the fact is that Heisaburo and O Tsu have been on pretty intimate terms for some time.
KAKIĒMON (with an expression first of great astonishment and then of shame): Oh, to think that O Tsu should do such a thing.
GOHEI: And so I have sent Heisaburo to my shop at Nagasaki, and so, it seems, O Tsu has run away from home.
KAKIĒMON: I must apologize again and again for my daughter’s misconduct, but at the same time I have a request to make of you. Please do what you can to help O Tsu.
GOHEI: What do you mean by helping her?
KAKIĒMON: Why, this. Please let Heisaburo marry her. There is no other way. It isn’t at all a proper thing for a parent to say, but that girl is far superior to any of her family and she wouldn’t be such a very unsuitable match for your son.
GOHEI: I should very much like to oblige you if I could, but this, I am afraid, is quite beyond my power.
KAKIĒMON: Ah, you mean that it is Heisaburo who is unwilling. Then please let me go and see him and ask him myself.
GOHEI: I’m afraid that would be quite useless. The fact is that a marriage has been arranged for him in another quarter.
KAKIĒMON: Oh!
GOHEI: So you see it is impossible for them to marry. But there is something I can do. Let me offer you a hundred ryo as a consolation for O Tsu’s disappointment.
KAKIĒMON: No! I don’t sell my daughter! (Takes money out of his purse.) And here’s the remainder of the money I borrowed from Heisaburo the other day! Take it! I should feel defiled if I kept it.
(Flings it down on the ground.)
GOHEI: Well, if that is how you take it, there’s nothing more to be said. I had better take my leave.
(Stands up to go out, Kakiēmon stops him.)
KAKIĒMON: Wait a moment. There’s nothing a parent will not do where his child is at stake. You see I put aside all my obstinacy and pride. If Heisaburo doesn’t care for my daughter I don’t wish him to take her for good, but if he would make her his wife just for a year, say, or even six months, and then divorce her. Won’t you ask him to do that? Just that one little request. It would mean everything to O Tsu. And if you will I’ll give you the whole of the rest of my life in return. The sweat of my brow and the strength of my hands…yes, I will work my fingers to the bone for you! If you have any pity or feeling at all, Gohei San, please do this for me.
(Bowing his head to the floor in supplication.)
GOHEI: Whatever you say I’m afraid I must decline.
KAKIĒMON: It may not please you, but won’t you let them marry as a kindness to my daughter and myself?
GOHEI: It’s no good saying any more. It’s no use, I tell you.
KAKIĒMON: Even after all I’ve said?
GOHEI: I’m sorry, but I must decline.
KAKIĒMON: Oh!
(Kurisaku comes back and comes into the room.)
KURISAKU: There’s no sign of O Tsu anywhere.
KAKIĒMON: Then you don’t know where she’s gone?
GOHEI: I’ll look too and see if I can’t find her. I may think of a likely spot. (Goes out.) And look here, Kakiēmon! If there is any way you can think of that I can help O Tsu, except this marriage of course, come and discuss it whenever you like. I promise you I’ll do anything I can. Remember how long we’ve known each other and don’t treat me like a stranger.
(Exit.)
KURISAKU: Well, I think I see it all now. After making a fortune of I don’t know how many hundred thousand ryo for Aritaya, all he gets in return is the daughter he is so fond of made into damaged goods. I wonder what he thinks of that.
KAKIĒMON: Gohei is a creature without the least sense of gratitude or justice or decency! I’ll have no more to do with him! And what’s more, I’ll ruin him! By my skill as a craftsman I’ll take that fortune of his away from him!
(Steps outside and stands staring fixedly in front of him. O Tané comes back with the liquor she has bought and stops surprised.)
O TANÉ: Father! What is it?
KAKIĒMON: O Tsu has run away from home.
O TANÉ: Oh!
(Drops the bottle. Kakiēmon flings away the letter and, without looking round, strides over to his workroom and goes in. Kurisaku and O Tané read the letter. The stage gradually becomes dark. The leaves of the persimmon-tree keep on falling.)
ACT III
Kakiēmon’s kiln at Sarayama at Arita. A hill rises gently to the right, up which the range of kilns is built in a slanting direction. The boards of the roof over them
have been taken away and only the pillars remain. Some pine faggots are burning in the kiln.
To the left the thatched roof of a house is seen. In front are the hills of Sarayama dotted here and there with the fires of potteries. Sparks are rising from the kiln behind on the right. Kakiēmon stands in front of the mouth of the kiln staring fixedly into the fire, partly illuminated by the red glare that comes from it. His clothes are soiled and he looks very tired. He appears much older than in the former act, and his hair is now quite white. The stage is dark, and there is a mist and the patter of rain. A bell strikes the hour. The curtain rises and the rain stops, and there is only the eerie sound of the autumn wind rustling the bare boughs.
KAKIĒMON: It’s a good thing the rain has stopped, but the cold has made the fire dull, and now we shall have to keep it in another couple of hours or so. (Turning round toward the left.) O Tané!
(As he calls he throws more faggots into the fire and it flares up. As he does so a red glare suddenly appears in front to the right and the scene gradually grows bright. O Tané comes from the left and points to the light !)
O TANÉ: Father, what’s that light over there?
KAKIĒMON: The moon rising, I suppose.
O TANÉ: But you know there’s no moon tonight.
KAKIĒMON: Oh well, a house on fire, most likely. A pretty useless sort of fire that is; we could do with some of it here.
O TANÉ: Yes, so we could. But what did you call me for?
KAKIĒMON: Hurry over to Gensuke and tell him to send up a hundred bundles of pine faggots at once. Tell him I’ll pay him double for them when this kiln is finished. If you tell him the reason I expect he’ll let us have them.
O TANÉ: Oh don’t, father, you know it’s no good. When I went there this morning and asked him, didn’t he answer rather rudely that if I didn’t bring the money he wouldn’t let us have any more. He won’t give us credit, and however many times I go he’ll only say the same thing.
KAKIĒMON: Then go to Tōsuke. Tell him I don’t care how much he charges.
O TANÉ: They’re all the same. They all know we’ve got no money, so it’s not the least use going.
KAKIĒMON: But you must tell them something or other. We must get faggots somehow. Don’t you see how important it is to finish this kiln?
O TANÉ: Better give it up than worry yourself like this. You’ll be worn out.
KAKIĒMON: What d’you mean? Never you forget for a moment that we’ve got to be avenged for O Tsu.
O TANÉ: Yes, indeed. Why, it’s a hundred days today since she left us. I wonder where she can be.
KAKIĒMON: H’m, where can she be? Best think of her as dead. By the way I haven’t seen Kurisaku for some time. Where is he?
O TANÉ: He’s asleep in the house.
KAKIĒMON: What does he want to sleep for?
O TANÉ: He hasn’t had any sleep for three days and three nights while he has been helping you and he’s completely worn out.
KAKIĒMON: What’s today?
O TANÉ: Today is the twentieth of the twelfth month. You haven’t had any sleep for five days, since you started firing the kiln. If a strong young fellow like Kurisaku can’t stand it, the next thing will be that you’ll collapse, and what shall I do then?
KAKIĒMON: You needn’t be afraid of that. I shall survive till this kiln is finished. And while you’re talking the faggots are burning out. Do make haste and see about some more.
O TANÉ: Well, I can go and see, though it won’t be any use.
KAKIĒMON: If you don’t hurry it will be too late.
(O Tané runs off to the left. Kakiēmon throws in some more faggots and the fire flares up. The stage gets lighter as the flames grow higher. The clerk Yōkuro enters in haori and breeches and tucked-up kimono and leather-soled sandals and comes up to Kakiēmon.)
YŌKURO: Kakiēmon San! Isn’t the kiln finished yet ?
(As he speaks he looks round him on all sides.)
KAKIĒMON: If I had the wood, you’d see it all done in a couple of hours. But look there.
(And he points to his few remaining bundles.)
YŌKURO: Well, well, that’s a pity. Let me lend you the money for some more.
KAKIĒMON: No, no! I won’t touch a penny of Aritaya’s money.
YŌKURO: I don’t mean Aritaya’s money. I mean my own. I’ll lend it you. But business men don’t lend money for nothing, of course. If you’ll only give me the sole right of selling this red enamel-ware of yours, I’ll lend you any amount; ten ryo or twenty, as much as you want. I rather thought you might be in a fix like this so I brought the agreement with me ready drawn up. (Takes it from his breast.) All you have to do is to put in the sum you need and write your name and put your seal to it. Why, the wood is almost finished. Won’t you seal this and put new life into your kiln.
(Holds out the paper and money to him. Kakiēmon puts out his hand and then draws back again.)
KAKIĒMON: It’s very kind of you, but I’d rather not.
YŌKURO: Well, I think you’re a fool. (Stares toward the road.) Hullo, that looks like my master coming along. Kakiēmon San, please don’t say anything to him about what I was just suggesting to you, will you?
KAKIĒMON: I want nothing to say to Gohei.
(Stares into the fire. Yōkuro looks relieved and puts away the paper and the money. Enter Gohei wearing haori and kimono with hood over his head. He looks surprised to see Yōkuro.)
GOHEI: Why, Yōkuro, what on earth are you doing here?
YŌKURO: Oh, I wondered how Kakiēmon’s kiln was getting on, so I came to see.
GOHEI: Very solicitous of you, I’m sure. Especially on such a cold dark night. (Sits down on a stone on the right.) By the way, Kakiēmon, I hear you’re pretty hard up. Now as you have worked for me all these years, and I must say I’m a bit indebted to you, I shouldn’t like to think of your being beholden to anyone else, so I have come to see what I can do. Won’t you be sensible and give up this stubbornness and let us resume our old relations?
KAKIĒMON: I don’t want to see you yet. When it’s time for that I’ll come to you.
GOHEI: Don’t be so obstinate. I know you’re in want of money for wood at this very moment, for I have just seen your daughter trying to get Tōsuke to let her have some. If you’d only ask me instead of putting yourself to all that trouble I have only to say the word and you can have a thousand or two thousand bundles of pine faggots delivered here this instant. Look there! D’you see the fires of all those kilns? Well, they all belong to me. All the potteries in Arita. What d’you think you can do all by yourself against so many? Be sensible and consider your own interests and give in. I’ll take all the ware you make and I’ll pay you an income of a hundred ryo a year for life. What do you think, Yōkuro? That’s not a bad offer, is it?
YŌKURO: A very handsome one indeed. Quite worthy of a great merchant like you. I’m sure Kakiēmon San will agree to it.
GOHEI: Well, Kakiēmon San, shall we consider that settled?
(Kakiēmon says nothing and does not even look round. Yōkuro looks from one to the other.)
YŌKURO: Just a moment, master. (Takes Gohei a little way down the Hana-michi.* ) It’s better to let him alone. His manner is very strange. You wait till next year when the spring weather affects him, and you’ll see he’ll go clean off his head.
GOHEI: What I’m troubled about is that red enamelware of his.
YŌKURO: Oh, that’s all right. There’s no need to worry about that. He’ll never get it, however long he tries. It’s only one of the dreams he’s so famous for.
GOHEI: Well, I hope it is, for if this dream is realized. I shall lose I don’t know how much. Hundreds of thousands, I expect.
YŌKURO: But fortune always favors you, master. There is no need for anxiety.
GOHEI: No, I suppose there isn’t really. (Looking at the fire in front.) That looks like a fire somewhere. Surely it must be at Imari. That’s about the direction.
YŌKURO: Rather nearer, I think
.
GOHEI: Well, I don’t like the look of it at all. I feel a bit apprehensive about it. Hurry back home as quickly as you can and make sure everything is safe there.
YŌKURO: And master…?
GOHEI: Don’t bother about me. I’ve got something else to say to Kakiēmon, so I’ll come on a little later.
YŌKURO: But don’t you think it would be better if I waited for you?
GOHEI: There’s no need, I tell you. I want you to get off immediately. (Yōkuro starts reluctantly, while Gohei sits down to the right of Kakiēmon.) I’ve something to tell you that may surprise you. O Tsu jumped out of a boat and drowned herself at Mojigaseki last month. It was on the twentieth, in the evening.
KAKIĒMON: Ah, so my daughter is dead then.
(Staring in front of him unmoved.)
GOHEI: Yes, but nobody knew anything about it till today when the boatmen who rowed her brought a mirror bag and showed it to me and told me about it, and I recognized it as O Tsu’s. And so I knew for certain that it was she, and the bag I have taken and presented to our temple and ordered services to be said there for the repose of her soul.
KAKIĒMON: And Heisaburo ? What have you done about him?
GOHEI: Er… owing to circumstances over which we have no control, my son will be married into a certain samurai family very shortly.
KAKIĒMON: Be married, will he? H’m.
(Looks mortified. Gohei eyes him closely.)
GOHEI: Well! When I heard of O Tsu’s death even I could not help shedding tears. But you…you don’t weep.
KAKIĒMON: I have no tears. My eyes are dried up like my heart. Now I have work that must be done. And when that is finished I will weep for my daughter. And then too I will come and pay you a visit. But until then I want nothing more to say to you.
(And he turns to the kiln and gazes into the fire.)
GOHEI (looking uneasy): His determination is something uncanny! Even his daughter’s death has no power to turn his mind from this purpose he pursues so relentlessly. And if he should succeed?
(Enter O Tané from the left.)
O TANÉ (bowing to Gohei): Good day, sir.
KAKIĒMON (turning to O Tané): Ah, O Tané. Well, how did you get on?
O TANÉ: Wherever I went it was the same. None of them would let me have a single bundle.