by A. L. Sadler
KAKIĒMON: H’m, no good, was it? (Looks despondent.)
GOHEI (coming up to O Tané): Come here a moment.
(Leads her down stage to the left.)
Look here, I have just asked Kakiēmon to make it up with me again because of our old friendship, and offered him a salary of a hundred ryo a year to work for me as before.
O TANÉ: It’s no use, sir. I know father won’t consent.
GOHEI: But if he doesn’t there’s nothing before both of you but starvation, so far as I can see. Still, however stiff-necked he may be, you can manage to talk him over. You’re no fool. And when you’ve got him into a more reasonable state of mind so that he is likely to yield, I’ll come round again. You can do it if you will, so please do your best. I shall rely on you.
(Exit after a short pause. O Tané considers a moment and then goes to Kakiēmon.)
O TANÉ: Father, if this kiln doesn’t succeed, what are you going to do then?
KAKIĒMON: Start another. I shall go on, however many times I fail.
O TANÉ: But you know the saying that three spoilt kilns will ruin the richest, don’t you. You may say you will go on, but this place and everything we have will be sold over our heads and we shan’t know where to look for the next meal.
KAKIĒMON: Is it as bad as that?
O TANÉ: Indeed it is. If you will sell the spoilt pieces perhaps we can go on and make ends meet, but if you refuse, I don’t see what we can do. Just look at this precious kiln of yours with all of the roof torn off and burnt. I don’t wonder we are a laughing-stock to everybody. And as it looks as if there were no hope of getting this glaze, why don’t you do as Gohei wants and be comfortable for the rest of your life?
KAKIĒMON (with an expression of mingled sorrow and anger): Do as Gohei wants? Sell my soul to my enemy?
Give up my revenge as well as my hope of success? What is this you’re saying? Take money from the father of the man who made a plaything of my daughter and then left her to die, from the old devil who could have saved her and wouldn’t lift a hand to do it? Do I hear aright? But you haven’t heard yet. O Tsu has thrown herself into the sea and become food for fishes.
O TANÉ: Oh! Elder sister is dead then!
(Bursts into tears.)
KAKIĒMON: Yes, O Tsu is dead. But Heisaburo is alive. And Gohei is alive. And Kakiēmon is alive too, and while he lives he does not give up hope of seeing the pair of them ruined. You may not have much spirit, but still you are my daughter, aren’t you? I can’t think how you can imagine that I should give in to such evil-doers. How different you are from your elder sister.
O TANÉ (clinging to him): Father! Please forgive me. It was only because I wanted to save you from hardship that I made such a bad suggestion. Yes, it’s all my fault, and now I will try all I can to take my sister’s place and help you in everything. You will forgive me, won’t you?
KAKIĒMON: Say no more about it. You are indeed my daughter, aren’t you? (Draws her to him and looks into her face by the light of the fire.) My two precious pieces of porcelain. Now that one is broken and lost I must take the greater care of the other, for treasures like these can never be replaced. (They sit for a while in an affectionate attitude before the fire.) But I mustn ‘t stay here any longer. I must go myself and see if I can’t get some wood from those fellows. Call Kurisaku here, and look after the fire, both of you, so that it doesn’t go out. While that is alive hope burns in me too, so be sure you keep it up.
(Exit to the left. O Tané turns to the house.)
O TANÉ: Kurisaku! You’re wanted! Wake up!
KURISAKU: O-o-o-i.
O TANÉ (sitting by the fire and weeping): Ah, that long-sleeved kimono my sister gave me, she meant it for a keepsake.
KURISAKU (emerges rubbing his eyes): O Tané San, what are you crying about ?
O TANÉ: She is dead. My elder sister.
KURISAKU: Oh? O Tsu San! She’s dead, is she? Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu!
O TANÉ: Stay here and look after the fire till father comes back, will you?
(Gets up to go when Kurisaku stops her.)
KURISAKU: Stop here alone? It gives me the creeps! You stay too. Do stay, please, O Tané San. (Both sit down by the fire.) You treat me as though I were a centipede or a caterpillar, while I am fonder of you than your own parent. Well, even cats have their likes and dislikes, so it is natural that people should have too. But then people can like others if they try to, and even a fellow like myself may perhaps have something likeable in him somewhere. Don’t you think you could find it out and try to care for me a bit? Since I am so fond of you, don’t you think you could consider my feelings and speak more kindly to me?
(O Tané pokes the fire up as he speaks.)
O TANÉ: The more I think about you the more I dislike the thought of you.
KURISAKU: Oh dear! I must have done evil things in a former life to have been born so unlucky.
(Folds his arms and sits thinking.)
O TANÉ: Kurisaku San! Go and get some more wood!
KURISAKU: Oh, all right. (Jumps up light-heartedly and throws all the wood that remains into the kiln.) O Tané San. That is all the wood there is. There’s no more.
O TANÉ (looks blank when she hears this): I won’t say that I like you. But I don’t exactly dislike you.
KURISAKU: What’s that?
O TANÉ: It isn’t especially necessary for people to be in love with each other to marry, I suppose. So there may be no reason why we should not do so if you want to.
KURISAKU: O Tané San! Do you really mean it?
O TANÉ: I can’t hold out much longer. You’re so persistent.
KURISAKU: And you’ll really be my wife?
(Draws closer to her with an expression of great delight.)
O TANÉ: Yes, I will, but there is something I want you to do for me. Will you?
KURISAKU: Oh yes, of course. And I know what you want me to do. Get you plenty of nice clothes and let you do as you like. That’s nothing. I’m quite ready to get up first in the morning and bring you your breakfast in bed if you want it.
O TANÉ: No, no. It’s nothing for myself. It’s about this enamel-ware of father’s that he is always racking his brains about. Do you think he’ll succeed in getting it?
KURISAKU: Ah, I wonder. I feel very anxious about it.
O TANÉ: Yes, so do I. But it isn’t the least use trying to get him to stop, so you and I must do all we can to help him.
KURISAKU: Why yes. That goes without saying. Your father is my father too now.
O TANÉ: Well said. And if you mean it, I am ready to become your wife.
KURISAKU: How can I thank you enough? But that you should have changed so quickly when you disliked me so much before must be owing to O Tsu’s influence. I think it is she who has brought us together.
O TANÉ: But we need not be in any hurry about marrying.
KURISAKU: Oh no, we need not be in any hurry, any particular hurry that is.
O TANÉ: And in return you will lend it to him, won’t you?
KURISAKU: Lend him what? Lend who?
O TANÉ: Why lend father the money you have saved up on the quiet.
(Kurisaku looks dumbfounded.)
KURISAKU: Why certainly I would if I had any. But I haven’t a penny.
O TANÉ: What have you done with it? Have you spent it on something?
KURISAKU: The master told me to say nothing about it, and I would have said nothing, but if I don’t tell you now you will misunderstand me, so this is what I did with it. I gave the master all the money I had saved to help him with his enamelware.
O TANÉ : Oh, so that is why you can’t lend it? Because you have lent it to him already. Kurisaku San! I am indeed your wife after this.
KURISAKU: O Tané San! What can I say?
(They take each other’s hands and stand silently. The fire has just gone out while they were talking. They do not notice it. Enter Kakiē -mon from the left, his arms folded. The two part as he c
omes in.)
O TANÉ: Well, father, have you managed it?
KAKIĒMON: Wherever I went they refused. And the townspeople laughed at me and called me a madman. Why when I first came here and built my kiln at Minami-kawara there wasn’t any Arita. It was a desolate forlorn spot. And now after I have taught them the way to make Nankin ware, see how flourishing it has become. And all this prosperity they owe to me. And they call me, Kakiēmon, a madman. Ah, it is a world without any sense of justice or gratitude. (Seeing that the fire has gone out.) What have you two been doing? Don’t you know that if that fire goes out Kakiēmon’s hopes and his very life are extinguished with it?
(The two, looking surprised, go out to get some more wood.)
KURISAKU: There are no more faggots.
KAKIĒMON: Bring that wood over there.
KURISAKU: All right.
(He pulls down one of the pillars and throws that into the kiln, but it is damp and will not burn.)
O TANÉ: That rain has wetted it through and it won’t burn.
KAKIEMO: Just for want of a little fuel to keep it burning for an hour or two is all I have toiled for to come to nothing? My beloved daughter has drowned herself, and now the fire in my precious kiln has gone out. Is there no God or Buddha or Providence or anything?
(With a look of despair, O Tané comes to him and supports him.)
O TANÉ: Don’t be downcast, father; keep up your spirits.
(Just then Gohei hurries in from the front accompanied by the potters Riēmon, Zengoro, and Bunz o.)
GOHEI: Now, Kakiēmon, how about your answer? I’ve brought these fellows with me because I thought you would probably want some faggots carried.
RIEMON: Look here! Look at the fire!
RIEMON and BUNZO (together): It’s out! (Kakiēmon pulls himself together.)
KAKIĒMON: The fire in the kiln may be out indeed, but as long as there’s any left in my body I won’t take a single bundle of faggots from Gohei.
GOHEI: Still stiff-necked are you?
ZENGORO: I’ll tell you what you are.
ZENGORO and BUNZO: You’re mad!
(They laugh derisively.)
O TANÉ: Father! This kiln you took such pains over. It would be a stroke of good luck if by chance a piece or two did come out, wouldn’t it?
KURISAKU: Yes, yes. Suppose it has. Let’s open it and see.
(Kurisaku and O Tané tear off the plastering and open the kiln and gaze dejectedly at the spoilt pieces of pottery as they take them out. Meanwhile the flames in front grow higher and higher until the sky seems to be alight. The shopman Denroku comes running up out of breath, with a towel round his head and one shoulder bare, carrying a lantern in his hand.)
DENROKU: Master! There’s a great fire!
GOHEI: What? At Imari? Is the shop burnt?
DENROKU: No, the shop is all right, but Nakasato’s place is burnt out, and when I went to inquire they told me that the pedigree is burnt too.
GOHEI: The pedigree burnt? That pedigree…!
(His face falls.)
DENROKU: And another awful thing has happened. The young master jumped right into the middle of the fire.
GOHEI: Was he burnt to death?
DENROKU: Yes.
GOHEI: In that fire!
(Gazing in a dazed way at the flames that leap up in front.)
O TANÉ: Father! Heisaburo San is dead too!
KAKIĒMON: H’m, O Tsu jumped into the sea and Heisaburo into the fire.
(Stands staring in front of him.)
KURISAKU (catching sight of a plate decorated in gold and colors in the kiln and bringing it to Kakiēmon): Master! Look here!
KAKIĒMON (taking it and looking at it): Ah, that is it!
GOHEI: Ah!
KAKIĒMON: The color I’ve dreamed of these ten years! Now I’ve got it! (Weeps tears of joy. Glares fiercely at Gohei as the latter comes up to him.) Gohei San! This plate was wrought with the life of my daughter and all my boundless love and tears! It will shine through the ages as one of the treasures of our land, and with the secret of its glowing color I grasp your life too!
GOHEI: Kakiēmon San, I have wronged you very greatly.
(Sits down on the ground. Kakiēmon looks fixedly in front of him as though he saw O Tsu.)
KAKIĒMON: O Tsu! I have avenged you!
(He hands the plate to O Tané and presses his hands to his face and weeps. O Tané and Kurisaku support him on each side. Gohei is bowed in an attitude of contrition. The flames leap higher and higher and the whole stage glows red. In the distance the sound of the hurried clang of the fire-bell is heard.)
CURTAIN
Footnotes
* Japanese socks.
* Hana-michi.—The raised passage that goes across the auditorium from the back of the theatre to the front of the stage.
THE VILLAGE OF DRUM-MAKERS
BY ENOMOTO TORAHIKO
PERSONS OF THE DRAMA
LORD AYAKŌJI
SAMMI ARINOBU A COURT NOBLE
SHIRAKAWA KEMMOTSU A HIGH MILITARY OFFICIAL OF
THE COURT
KOMPARU ROKU-NO-JŌ A COURT MUSICIAN
ABO KAMBEI A DRUM-MAKER
KURA-KO HIS DAUGHTER
SUTEZŌ HIS APPRENTICES
SANNOSUKE
O SAN A MAIDSERVANT
JUICHIBEI VILLAGE HEADMAN
IMPERIAL GUARDS, DRUM-MAKERS
SCENE I
The house of the drum-maker Kambei. It is of eight yards’ frontage, divided into two rooms of equal size. The right hand one is matted and has a curtained entrance in front and on the wall are shelves on which stand newly made drum-bodies. The left-hand room is the workshop and has a boarded floor on a lower level. On the opposite wall is a cupboard containing boxes of tools and cherry wood for the drums. Over the entrance gate is a tablet with the inscription, “Abo Kambei, Court Drum-maker.” Outside the house on the right is an old cherry-tree and a well and well-sweep. Beyond the gate to the left the distant scenery of Tabu-ga-mine with the River Kurahashi in the foreground.
TIME
About the middle of the third month. The house is situated on the outskirts of the village of Sakurai in the province of Yamato.
A number of young drum-makers, clad in striped kimono or in tight-fitting pantaloons, are assembled round the house, some standing and others sitting on the veranda. The curtain rises to the strains of a country folk-song.
ALL: Is the old master at home? Hullo! Kambei Dono! Kambei Dono!
KAMBEI (from inside the house): I’m at home all right. What do you want?
(As he says this, Kambei appears at the curtained entrance. His hair is done in the style of an old man and he has the careless and unconventional manner of a master craftsman.)
What’s all this about? Here have I just had my midday drop of drink, and feeling happier than usual after it too, so nice and tipsy that I’d clean forgotten all the troubles of life, and now you must come and disturb me with this unseemly row, like so many faggots spluttering. What d’ye mean by it, eh?
FIRST DRUM-MAKER: There! Now you’ve made the old master angry! Didn’t I tell you not to shout so loudly?
SECOND DRUM-MAKER: What a liar you are! Why, you shouted louder than anyone. (Turning to the others)
Didn’t he, you fellows?
FIRST DRUM-MAKER: You’re the liar. My voice was as low as a temple gong.
SECOND DRUM-MAKER: Yah! A cracked temple bell you mean! A big one!
KAMBEI (interrupting irritably): Stop that noisy jangling, do! Can’t you say what you came for and have done?
FIRST DRUM-MAKER: Yes, of course, that’s just what I say. It’s like this, master: it’s about that drum for the Court that we’ve all been working so hard for, all these weeks. It must be settled today whose work will be chosen. That’s what we’ve come about.
SECOND DRUM-MAKER: Yes, and not only that. It must be settled who is to be chosen to marry the master’s daughter too, eh?
THIRD DRUM-MAKER: And
it’s said the master and his daughter can’t agree about it and keep on making objections and saying they won’t have this one, and they don’t like that one. That’s not right. It ought to be decided properly, eh?
FOURTH DRUM-MAKER: Yes, we want to hear the master confirm the promise he has made that he will marry her to one of us, whatever happens.
FIFTH DRUM-MAKER: Yes, confirm it before everybody!
ALL: Promise you will, master!
KAMBEI: You needn’t worry yourselves about that. I’ve never told you a lie yet. There’s no need to tell you that this village of Sakurai is renowned for its drums. A thousand years ago a musician named Mimashi came to Japan from Kudara, what you call Korea nowadays, and by order of our Imperial Court taught the traditional music of China in these parts, and that was the beginning of the use of the drum called “tsuzumi” in our country. And ever since that time our ancestors have bent all their skill to making that drum as finely as it can be made, and so well have they wrought that drums made by our master craftsmen are regarded as unique treasures of our Imperial House. But times are not what they were, for the craftsmen of today think more of gain than of their work, and I fear that our immemorial skill may be departing and none be found equal to our forefathers. And this is a constant grief to me. And when a while ago the Lord Ayakōji Sammi Sama summoned me and bade me make a drum so that it might be comparable to the masterpieces of old, for he would have it for use in the Imperial Court, I could but tell him that I was now too old to do the work myself, but I would have the younger men do their best, and then he could choose from these if there should be one suitable. And he assented and told me to have them ready within a hundred days, and so to encourage you to put out your best efforts I promised that to the one who should produce a masterpiece I would give my daughter and make him heir to all my property. I’ll give everything I have if it will revive our ancient renown. Why should I deceive you?
FIRST DRUM-MAKER: We don’t doubt that, master. But as you’ve got two apprentices in your own house, Sutezō and Sannosuke, we thought you might want to make one of them the heir. That’s all. That’s what we were anxious about and what we came to ask you.