"Noh", or, Accomplishment : | ||
IV. PART IV
I GIVE the next two plays, Awoi no Uye and
Kakitsubata, with very considerable diffidence.
I am not sure that they are clear; Japanese
with whom I have discussed them do not seem
able to give me much help. Several passages
which are, however, quite lucid in themselves,
seem to me as beautiful as anything I have
found in Fenollosa's Japanese notes, and these
passages must be my justification. In each
case I give an explanation of the story so far
as I understand it. In one place in Kakitsubata
I have transferred a refrain or doubled it.
For the rest the plays are as literal as the notes
before me permit.
AWOI NO UYE
A Play by Ujinobu
INTRODUCTION
The story, as I understand it, is that the
"Court Lady Awoi" (Flower of the East) is
jealous of the other and later co-wives of
Genji. This jealousy reaches its climax, and
she goes off her head with it, when her carriage
is overturned and broken at the Kami festival.
The play opens with the death-bed of Awoi,
and in Mrs. Fenollosa's diary I find the statement
that "Awoi, her struggles, sickness, and
death are represented by a red, flowered
kimono, folded once length-wise, and laid at
the front edge of the stage."
The objective action is confined to the
apparitions and exorcists. The demon of
jealousy, tormenting Awoi, first appears in
the form of the Princess Rakujo, then with the
progress and success of the exorcism the jealous
ghost, and appears in its own truly demonic
("hannya") form—"That awful face with
its golden eyes and horns revealed." The
exorcist Miko is powerless against this demon,
but the yamabushi exorcists, "advancing
against it, making a grinding noise with the
beads of their rosaries and striking against it,"
finally drive it away.
The ambiguities of certain early parts of
the play seem mainly due to the fact that the
"Princess Rokujo," the concrete figure on the
stage, is a phantom or image of Awoi no
Uye's own jealousy. That is to say, Awoi is
tormented by her own passion, and this passion
obsesses her first in the form of a personal
apparition of Rokujo, then in demonic form.
This play was written before Ibsen declared
that life is a "contest with the phantoms of
the mind." The difficulties of the translator
have lain in separating what belongs to Awoi
herself from the things belonging to the ghost
of Rokujo, very much as modern psychologists
might have difficulty in detaching the personality
or memories of an obsessed person
from the personal memories of the obsession.
Baldly: an obsessed person thinks he is
Napoleon; an image of his own thought
to St. Helena, Corsica, and Waterloo.
The second confusion is the relation of the
two apparitions. It seems difficult to make it
clear that the "hannya" has been cast out of
the ghostly personality, and that it had been,
in a way, the motive force in the ghost's actions.
And again we cannot make it too clear that
the ghost is not actually a separate soul, but
only a manifestation made possible through
Awoi and her passion of jealousy. At least
with this interpretation the play seems moderately
coherent and lucid.
Rokujo or Awoi, whichever we choose to
consider her, comes out of hell-gate in a
chariot, "because people of her rank are
always accustomed to go about in chariots.
When they, or their ghosts, think of motion,
they think of going in a chariot, therefore they
take that form." There would be a model
chariot shown somewhere at the back of the
stage.
The ambiguity of the apparition's opening
line is, possibly, to arouse the curiosity of the
audience. There will be an air of mystery,
and they will not know whether it is to be
the chariot associated with Genji's liaison with
Yugawo, the beautiful heroine of the play
drawn by a sheep, a deer, and an ox. But I
think we are nearer the mark if we take Rokujo's
enigmatic line, "I am come in three chariots,"
to mean that the formed idea of a chariot is
derived from these events and from the mishap
to Awoi's own chariot, all of which have combined
and helped the spirit world to manifest
itself concretely. Western students of ghostly
folk-lore would tell you that the world of spirits
is fluid and drifts about seeking shape. I do
not wish to dogmatize on these points.
The Fenollosa-Hirata draft calls the manifest
spirit "The Princess Rokujo," and she attacks
Awoi, who is represented by the folded kimono.
Other texts seem to call this manifestation
"Awoi no Uye," i.e. her mind or troubled
spirit, and this spirit attacks her body. It will
be perhaps simpler for the reader if I mark her
speeches simply "Apparition," and those of
the second form "Hannya."
I do not know whether I can make the
matter more plain or summarize it otherwise
than by saying that the whole play is a dramatization,
or externalization, of Awoi's jealousy.
The passion makes her subject to the demon-possession.
The demon first comes in a disguised
and beautiful form. The prayer of
true shape, and then to retreat.
But the "disguised and beautiful form"
is not a mere abstract sheet of matter. It is
a sort of personal or living mask, having a
ghost-life of its own; it is at once a shell of
the princess, and a form, which is strengthened
or made more palpable by the passion of Awoi.
AWOI NO UYE
Scene in KiotoDaijin
I am a subject in the service of the Blessed
Emperor Shujakuin. They have called in the
priests and the high priests for the sickness
of Awoi no Uye of the house of Sadaijin.
They prayed, but the gods give no sign. I am
sent to Miko, the wise, to bid him pray to the
spirits. Miko, will you pray to the earth?
Miko
Naigeshojo, Rakkonshojo.
Wither, by the sixteen roots
(Wither this evil)!
It may be, it may be, I come from the gate
of hell in three coaches. I am sorry for
Yugawo and the carriage with broken wheels.
And the world is ploughed with sorrow as a
field is furrowed with oxen. Man's life is a
wheel on the axle, there is no turn whereby
to escape. His hold is light as dew on the
Basho leaf. It seems that the last spring's
blossoms are only a dream in the mind. And
we fools take it all, take it all as a matter of
course. Oh, I am grown envious from sorrow.
I come to seek consolation. (Singing.)
Though
I lie all night hid for shame in the secret
carriage, looking at the moon for sorrow, yet
I would not be seen by the moon.
I would go to set my sorrow aloud.
(Speaking.)
Where does that sound of playing
come from? It is the sound of the bow of
Adzusa!
Miko
Though I went to the door of the square
building, Adzumaya—
Apparition
—you thought no one came to knock.
How strange! It is a lady of high rank
whom I do not know. She comes in a broken
carriage, a green wife clings to the shaft. She
weeps. Is it—
Daijin
Yes, I think I know who it is. (To the
Apparition.)
I ask you to tell me your name.
Apparition
In the world of the swift-moving lightning
I have no servant or envoi, neither am I consumed
with self-pity. I came aimlessly hither,
drawn only by the sound of the bow. Who
do you think I am? I am the spirit of the
Princess Rokujo,[1]
and when I was still in the
world, spring was there with me. I feasted
upon the cloud with the Sennin,[2]
they shared
in my feast of flowers. And on the Evening of
Maple Leaves I had the moon for a mirror. I
was drunk with colour and perfume. And for
all my gay flare at that time I am now like
a shut Morning-glory, awaiting the sunshine.
And now I am come for a whim, I am come
uncounting the hour, seizing upon no set
some one else bear it awhile.
Chorus
Love turns back toward the lover, unkindness
brings evil return. It is for no good deed
or good purpose that you bring back a sorrow
among us, our sorrows mount up without end.
Apparition
The woman is hateful! I cannot keep
back my blows.
Miko
No. You are a princess of Rokujo! How
can you do such things? Give over. Give
over.
Apparition
I cannot. However much you might pray.
(Reflectively, as if detached from her action, and
describing it.)
So she went toward the pillow,
and struck. Struck.
Miko
Then standing up—
Apparition
This hate is only repayment
The flame of jealousy—
Apparition
—will turn on one's own hand and burn.
Miko
Do you not know?
Apparition
Know! This is a just revenge.
Chorus
Though you are full of tears
Because of others' dark hatred,
Your love for Genji
Will not be struck out
Like a fire-fly's flash in the dark.
Apparition
I, like a bush—
Chorus
I fade as dew from the leaf,
Partly for that cause I hate her,
My love cannot be restored . . .
Not even in a dream.
It is a gleam cast up from the past. I am
full of longing. I would be off in the secret
coach, and crush her shade with me.
Help. Awoi no Uye is sinking. Can you
find Kohijiri of Tokokawa?
Kiogen
I will call him. I call him.
Waki (Kohijiri)
Do you call me to a fit place for prayer?
To the window of the nine wisdoms, to the
cushion of the ten ranks, to a place full of holy
waters, and where there is a clear moon?
Kiogen
Yes, yes.
Waki
How should I know? I do not go about
in the world. You come from the Daijin.
Wait. I am ready. I will come.
Daijin
I thank you for coming.
Waki
Where is the patient?
She is there on that bed.
Waki
I will begin the exorcism at once.
Daijin
I thank you. Please do so.
Waki
(beginning the ritual)
Then Gioja called upon En no Gioja, and
he hung about his shoulders a cloak that had
swept the dew of the seven jewels in climbing
the peaks of Tai Kou and of Kori in Riobu.
He wore the cassock of forbearance to keep
out unholy things. He took the beads of red
wood, the square beads with hard corners,
and whirling and striking said prayer. But
one prayer.
Namaku, Samanda, Basarada.
[During this speech the Apparition has
disappeared. That is, the first Shite,
the Princess of Rokujo. Her costume
was "The under kimono black satin,
tight from the knees down, embroidered
with small, irregular, infrequent circles
of flowers; the upper part, stiff gold
greens, and reds."
[The Hannya has come on. Clothed in a
scarlet hakama, white upper dress, and
"The terrible mask with golden eyes."
She has held a white scarf over her
head. She looks up. Here follows the
great dance climax of the play.
Hannya
(threatening)
Oh, Gioja, turn back! Turn back, or you
rue it.
Waki
Let whatever evil spirit is here bow before
Gioja, and know that Gioja will drive it out.
Chorus
(invoking the powerful good spirits)
On the east stand Gosanze Miowo.
Hannya
(opposing other great spirits)
On the south stand Gundari Yasha.
Chorus
On the west stand Dai Itoku Miowo.
On the north stand Kongo—
Chorus
—Yasha Miowo.
Hannya
In the middle Dai Sei—
Chorus
Namaku Samanda Basarada!
Senda Makaroshana Sowataya
Wun tarata Kamman,
Choga Sessha Tokudai Chiye
Chiga Shinja Sokushin Jobutsu.
Hannya
(overcome by the exorcism)
O terrible names of the spirits. This is
my last time. I cannot return here again.
Chorus
By hearing the scripture the evil spirit is
melted. Bosatsu came hither, his face was
full of forbearance and pity. Pity has melted
her heart, and she has gone into Buddha.
Thanksgiving.
KAKITSUBATA
By Motokiyo
Either Motokiyo or Fenollosa seems to have
thought that the old sage Narihira was in his
day the incarnation of a certain Bosatsu or
high spirit. Secondly, that the music of this
spirit was known and was called "Kohi" or
"Gobusaki's" music. Narihira seems, after
favour, to have been exiled from the court,
and to have written poems of regret.
In the play a certain priest, given to melancholy,
and with a kindliness for the people of
old stories, meets with the spirit of one of
Narihira's ladies who has identified herself
with the Iris, that is to say, the flowers are the
thoughts or the body of her spirit.
She tells him of her past and of Narihira's,
and how the music of Gobusaki will lift a man's
soul into paradise. She then returns to her
heaven.
The rest is, I hope, apparent in the play
as I have set it.
- The Scene is in Mikawa
- Spirit of the Iris, Kakitsubata.
- A Priest.
- Chorus.
Characters
I am a priest who travels to see the sights
in many provinces; I have been to Miyako
city and seen all the ward shrines and places
of interest; I will now push on to the east
country. Every night it is a new bed and the
old urge of sorrow within me. I have gone
by Mino and Owari without stopping, and I
am come to Mikawa province to see the flowers
of Kakitsubata in the height of their full
season. Now the low land is before me, I
must go down and peer closely upon them.
The lightfoot summer comes nigh us,
The branching trees and the bright unmindful grass
Do not forget their time,
They take no thought, yet remember
To show forth their colour in season.
What are you doing here in this swamp?
Priest
I am a priest on my travels. I think these
very fine iris. What place is this I am come to?
Spirit
Eight Bridges, Yatsubashi of Mikawa, an
iris plantation. You have the best flowers
before you, those of the deepest colour, as you
would see if you had any power of feeling.
Priest
I can see it quite well; they are, I think,
the Kakitsubata iris that are set in an ancient
legend. Can you tell me who wrote down
the words?
Spirit
In the Ise Monogatari you read, "By the
eight bridges, by the web of the crossing waters
in Kumode, the iris come to the full, they flaunt
there and scatter their petals." And when
some one laid a wager with Narihira he made
an acrostic which says, "These flowers brought
their court dress from China."
Priest
Then Narihira came hither? From the
far end of Adzuma?
Here? Yes. And every other place in
the north, the deep north.
Priest
Though he went through many a province,
what place was nearest his heart?
Spirit
This place, Yatsubashi.
Priest
On the lowlands of Mikawa.
Spirit
Throughout the length and width of his
journeys—
Priest
Their colour was alive in his thought.
Spirit
He was Narihira of old, the man of the
stories.
Priest
Yet this iris. . . .
Spirit
(still standing by the pillar and bending sideways)
These very flowers before you—
—are not the thing of importance. She
would say:
The man who bound himself to me
Returned times out of mind in his thought
To me and this cobweb of waters."
It was in this fashion he knew her, when
he was strange in this place.
Spirit
I should speak.
Priest
What is it?
Spirit
Though this is a very poor place, will you
pass the night in my cottage?
Priest
Most gladly. I will come after a little.
[Up to this point the spirit has appeared
as a simple young girl of the locality.
She now leaves her pillar and goes off
to the other side of the stage to be
dressed. She returns in her true
appearance, that is, as the great lady
a black hoshiben crest or hat, an overdress
of gauze, purple with golden
flowers, an underdress of glaring orange
with green and gold pattern. This
shows only a little beneath the great
enveloping gauze.
Spiriti
(to tire-women)
No, no. This hat, this ceremonial gown,
the Chinese silk, Karaginu, . . . Look!
Priest
How strange. In that tumble-down cottage;
in the bower, a lady clad in bright robes! In
the pierced hat of Sukibitai's time. She seems
to speak, saying, "Behold me!"
What can all this mean?
Kakitsubata
Whereof they sing in the ballad,
'Tis the gown of the Empress Takago,
Queen of old to Seiwa Tenno,[1]
She is Narihira's beloved,
Who danced the Gosetsu music.
She was his light in her youth.
For the Dance of Toyo no Akari.
Narihira went covered in like.
A hat and a robe of remembrance!
I am come clothed in a memory.
Priest
You had better put them aside. But who
are you?
The Lady
I am indeed the spirit, Kakitsubata, the
colours of remembrance.
And Narihira was the incarnation of the
Bosatsu of Gokusaki's music. Holy magic is
run through his words and through the notes
of his singing, till even the grass and the flowers
pray to him for the blessings of dew.
Priest
To the plants that are without mind,
I preach the law of Bosatsu.
Lady
This dance, in the old days.
(hearing the music)
This is indeed spirit music.
Lady
He took the form of a man.
Priest
From his bright city.
Lady
Saving all—
Priest
—by his favour.
Chorus
I put on robes for the dance.
Lady
A robe for the sorrow of parting.
Chorus
I send the sleeves back to the city.
Lady
No man has known the doer and no man has seen the deed.
Wearing his first hat-of-manhood
Went out a-hunting
Toward the town of Kasuga in Nara.
Chorus
Of the reign of Nimmio Tenno.
Reading: "About the beginning of March,
When the mists are still banked upon Ouchi-yama the mountain. . . ."
He was granted the hat-insignia, sukibitai,
As chief messenger to the festival of Kasuga.
Lady
An unusual favour.
Chorus
It was a rare thing to hold the plays and
Genbuku ceremony in the palace itself. This
was the first time it had happened.
Comes once, blows once, and soon fades,
So also to him: he went out
To seek his luck in Adzuma,
Wandering like a piece of cloud, at last
After years he came
And looking upon the waves at Ise and Owari,
He longed for his brief year of glory:
But my glory comes not again,
Narihira, Narihira,
My glory comes not again.
He stood at the foot of Asama of Shinano,
and saw the smoke curling upwards.
Lady
From the peak of Asama.
Narihira, Narihira,
My glory comes not again.
Chorus
Will they not wonder at this?
He went on afar and afar
And came to Mikawa, the province,
To the flowers Kakitsubata
That flare and flaunt in their marsh
By the many-bridged cobweb of waters.
"She whom I left in the city?" thought
Narihira. But in the long tale, Monogatari,
there is many a page full of travels . . . and
yet at the place of eight bridges the stream-bed
is never dry.
The fire-flies drift away
From the jewelled blind,
Scattering their little lights
And then flying and flying:
Going up into heaven.
The autumn winds come blowing and blowing,
And the wild ducks cry: "Kari! . . . Kari!"
A form impermanent, drifting after this fashion,
Am come to enlighten these people.
Whether they know me I know not.
Spirit
A light that does not lead on to darkness.
Chorus
(singing the poem of Narihira's)
The spring
Is not the spring of the old days,
My body
Is not my body,
Narihira, Narihira,
My glory comes not again.
Chorus
Know then that Narihira of old made these
verses for the Queen of Seiwa Tenno. The
body unravels its shred, the true image divides
into shade and light. Narihira knew me in
the old days. Doubt it not, stranger. And
now I begin my dance, wearing the ancient
bright mantle.
Spirit
The butterfly flying.
Chorus
The pieces of gold flying.
Spirit
Is planted anew.
Chorus
With the old bright colour renewed.
We wear the bright iris crest of Azame.
Chorus
Are they like one another, the flower,
Kakitsubata, Ayame. [The grey and olive robed chorus obscure the bright dancer.
What is that that cries from the tree? [The spirit is going away, leaving its apparition, which fades as it returns to the aether.
Spirit
It is only the cracked husk of the locust.
Chorus
(closing the play)
Dropping their petals in April.
Day comes, the purple flower
Opens its heart of wisdom,
It fades out of sight by its thought.
The flower soul melts into Buddha.
Note
I have left one or two points of this play
unexplained in the opening notice. I do not
think any one will understand the beauty of
it until he has read it twice. The emotional
tone is perhaps apparent. The spirit manifests
itself in that particular iris marsh because
Narihira in passing that place centuries before
had thought of her. Our own art is so
much an art of emphasis, and even of overemphasis,
that it is difficult to consider the
possibilities of an absolutely unemphasized art,
an art where the author trusts so implicitly
that his auditor will know what things are
profound and important.
The Muses were "the Daughters of
Memory." It is by memory that this spirit
appears, she is able or "bound" because of
the passing thought of these iris. That is to
say, they, as well as the first shadowy and
then bright apparition, are the outer veils of
her being. Beauty is the road to salvation,
and her apparition "to win people to the
Lord" or "to enlighten these people" is part
of the ritual, that is to say, she demonstrates
the "immortality of the soul" or the "permanence
or endurance of the individual personality"
girl of the locality; secondly, in the ancient
splendours. At least that is the general meaning
of the play so far as I understand it.
CHORIO
By Nobumitsu (who died in the 13th year of
Yeisho, a.d. 1516)
- an old man.
Characters
The Scene is in China
First Shite,
Second Shite, Kosekko.
Waki, Chorio.
PART I
WakiI am Chorio,[1]
a subject of Koso of Kan,
though I am busy in service I had a strange
dream that there was in Kahi an earthen
bridge, and that as I leaned on the bridge-rail
there came an old man on horseback. And
he dropped one of his shoes and bade me pick
seemed so uncommon a figure and so gone
on in old age that I went and picked up the
shoe. "You've a true heart," he said, "come
back here in five days' time, and I will teach
you all there is to know about fighting."
He said that, and then I woke up, and now
it's five days since the dream, and I am on my
way to Kahi.
Dawn begins to show in the sky. I am
afraid I may be too late. The mountain is
already lit, and I am just reaching the bridge.
Shite
Chorio, you are late, you have not kept your
promise. I came quite early, and now it is
much too late. Hear the bell there.
Chorus
Too late now. Come again. Come in
five days' time if you carry a true heart within
you. And I shall be here, and will teach you
the true craft of fighting. Keep the hour,
and keep true to your promise. How angry
the old man seemed. How suddenly he is
gone. Chorio, see that you come here in
time.
He is angry. I am sorry. Why do I follow
a man wholly a stranger? Foolish. Yet, if he
would teach me his secrets of strategy. . . .
Chorus
I think that he will come back. He does
not like wasting his time. Still, he will come
back again. See, he has gone away happy.
Chinese. Chang Liang died 187 b.c. Koso of Kan = Kao
Tsu, first Emperor of the Han dynasty. Kahi = Hsia-p`ei, in
the north of Kiangsu. Kosekko = Huang Shih Kung, Yellow
Stone Duke.
PART II
ChorioA fine stork, a black stork sings in the heaven,
Autumn is deep in the valley of Hako,
The sad monkeys cry out in the midnight,
The mountain pathway is lonely."
Chorus
And flows through the gap of these mountains,
White frost is on Kahi bridge, the crisp water wrinkles beneath it,
There is no print in the frost on the bridge,
No one has been by this morning.
Chorio, that is your luck. That shadow shows a man urging his horse.
I am the old man, Kosekko. Since Chorio
is loyal in service, no fool, ready at learning . . .
Chorus
Since he cares so much for the people . . .
Kosekko
His heart has been seen in high heaven.
Chorus
The Boddisatwa are ready to bless him.
Kosekko
I will teach him the secrets of battle.
Chorus
He says he will teach Chorio to conquer
the enemy, and to rule well over the people.
He urges his horse, and seeing this from far
off, seeing the old man so changed in aspect,
with eye gleaming out and with such dignity
in his bearing, Chorio has knelt down on the
bridge awaiting Kosekko.
Kosekko
Chorio, you are come in good time. Come
nearer and listen.
Chorio then stood up and smoothed out
his hat and his robe.
Kosekko
I know quite well he is wise, but still I will
try him.
Chorus
Kosekko kicked off his shoe so it fell in
the river. Then Chorio leapt in for the shoe,
but the river flowed between rocks; it was
full of currents and arrow-like rapids. He
went diving and floating and still not reaching
the shoe.[2]
See how the waves draw back. A thick
mist covers the place, a dragon moves in
darkness, ramping among the waves, lolling
its fiery tongue. It is fighting with Chorio;
see, it has seized on the shoe.
Chorio
Chorio drew his sword calmly.
Chorus
He struck a great blow at the dragon;
there was terrible light on his sword. See, the
dragon draws back and leaves Chorio with
and brought up the shoe to Kosekko, and
buckled it fast to his foot.
Kosekko
And Kosekko got down from his horse.
Chorus
He alighted, saying, "Well done. Well
done." And he gave a scroll of writing to
Chorio, containing all the secret traditions of
warfare. And Kosekko said, "That dragon
was Kwannon. She came here to try your
heart, and she must be your goddess hereafter."
Then the dragon went up to the clouds,
and Kosekko drew back to the highest peak,
and set his light in the sky; was changed to
the yellow stone.
GENJO
By Kongo
Story from Utai Kimmō Zuye
In China, under the Tō dynasty (a.d. 604927),
there was a biwa player named Renjōbu,
and he had a biwa called Genjō. In the reign
of Nimmyō Tennō (a.d. 834-850) Kamon no
Kami Sadatoshi met Renjōbu in China, and
learnt from him three tunes, Ryūsen (The
Flowing Fountain), Takuboku[1]
(The Woodpecker),
and the tune Yōshin. He also brought
back to our court the biwa named Genjō.
Murakami Tennō (947-967) was a great
biwa player. One moonlit night, when he
was sitting alone in the Southern Palace, he
took the biwa Genjō and sang the old song:
And the dew on the grasses deepens.
Long after man's heart is at rest
Clouds trouble the moon's face—
Through the long night till dawn.
Suddenly the spirit of Renjōbu appeared
to him and taught him two new tunes, Jōgen
and Sekishō (the Stone Image). These two,
with the three that Sadatoshi had brought
before, became the Five Biwa Tunes.
These five tunes were transmitted to Daijō
Daijin Moronaga, who was the most skilful
player in the Empire.
Moronaga purposed to take the biwa Genjō
and go with it to China in order to perfect
his knowledge. But on the way the spirit of
Murakami Tennō appeared to him at Suma
under the guise of an old salt-burner.[2]
The words of "Takuboku" are—
That calls itself the woodpecker.
When it's hungry, it eats its tree;
When it's tired, it rests in the boughs.
Just make up your mind what you want.
If you're pure, you'll get honour;
If you're foul, you'll get shame.
By Lady Tso, a.d. 4th cent.
GENJO
PART I
The Scene is in Settsu- an old man.
- an old woman.
- Fujiwara no Moronaga.
- the Emperor Murakami.
- Riujin, the Dragon God.
- an attendant of Moronaga.
Characters
First Shite,
Tsure,
Tsure,
Second Shite,
Tsure,
Waki,
What road will get us to Mirokoshi,[3]
far in
the eight-folded waves?
Moronaga
I am the Daijo Daijin Moronaga.
Waki
He is my master, and the famous master of
the biwa, and he wishes to go to China to
study more about music, but now he is turning
aside from the straight road to see the moonlight
in Suma and Tsu-no-Kuni.[4]
When shall I see the sky-line of Miyako,
the capital? We started at midnight. Yama-zaki
is already behind us.
Waki
Here is Minato river and the wood of
Ikuta; the moon shows between the black
trees, a lonely track. But I am glad to be
going to Mirokoshi. The forest of Koma is
already behind us. Now we are coming to
Suma.
Now we have come to the sea-board, Suma
in Tsu-no-Kuni. Let us rest here a while
and ask questions.
Old Man and Old Woman
It's a shabby life, lugging great salt tubs,
and yet the shore is so lovely that one puts off
one's sorrow, forgets it.
Old Man
The setting sun floats on the water.
Old Man and Old Woman
Even the fishermen know something grown
out of the place, and speak well of their seacoast.
The isles of Kii show through the cloud to
the southward.
Old Man
You can see the ships there, coming through
the gateway of Yura.
Old Woman
And the pine-trees, as far off as Sumiyoshi.
Old Man
And the cottages at Tojima, Koya, and
Naniwa.
Old Woman
They call it the island of pictures.
Old Man
Yet no one is able to paint it.
Old Man and Old Woman
Truly a place full of charms.
Chorus
The air of this place sets one thinking.
Awaji, the sea, a place of fishermen, see now
their boats will come in. The rain crouches
low in the cloud. Lift up your salt tubs, Aie!
It's a long tramp, heavy working. Carry
There is no end to this business. The salt at
Tango is worse. Now we go down to Suma.
A dreary time at this labour. No one knows
aught about us. Will any one ask our trouble?
Old Man
I will go back to the cottage and rest.
Waki
(at the cottage door)
Is any one home here? We are looking for
lodging.
Old Man
I am the man of the place.
Waki
This is the great Daijin Moronaga, the
master of biwa, on his way to far Mirokoshi.
May we rest here?
Old Man
Please take him somewhere else.
Waki
What! you won't give us lodging. Please
let us stay here.
The place isn't good enough, but you may
come in if you like.
Old Woman
When they were praying for rain in the
garden of Shin-sen (Divine Fountain), he drew
secret music from the strings of his biwa—
Old Man
—and the dragon-god seemed to like
it. The clouds grew out of the hard sky of a
sudden, and the rain fell and continued to
fall. And they have called him Lord of the
Rain.
Old Woman
If you lodge such a noble person—
Old Man
—I might hear his excellent playing.
Both
It will be a night worth remembering.
Chorus
The bard Semimaru played upon his biwa
at the small house in Osaka, now a prince will
play in the fisherman's cottage. A rare night.
shuts out the wind and the bamboo helps to
make stillness. Only the little ripple of waves
sounds from a distance. They will not let
you sleep for a while. Play your biwa. We
listen.
Waki
I will ask him to play all night.
Moronaga
Maybe it was spring when Genji was
exiled and came here into Suma, and had his
first draught of sorrow, of all the sorrows that
come to us. And yet his travelling clothes
were not dyed in tears. Weeping, he took
out his small lute, and thought that the shore
wind had in it a cry like his longing, and came
to him from far cities.
Chorus
That was the sound of the small lute and
the shore wind sounding together, but this
biwa that we will hear is the rain walking in
showers. It beats on the roof of the cottage.
We cannot sleep for the rain. It is interrupting
the music.
Old Man
Why do you stop your music?
He stopped because of the rain.
Old Man
Yes, it is raining. We will put our straw
mats on the roof.
Old Woman
Why?
Old Man
They will stop the noise of the rain, and we
can go on hearing his music.
Both
So they covered the wooden roof.
Chorus
And they came back and sat close to hear
him.
Waki
Why have you put the mats on the roof.
Old Man
The rain sounded out of the key. The
biwa sounds "yellow bell," and the rain gives
a "plate" note. Now we hear only the
"bell."
Chorus
We knew you were no ordinary person.
Come, play the biwa yourself.
The waves at this side of the beach can play
their own biwa; we did not expect to be
asked.
Chorus
Still they were given the biwa.
Old Man
The old man pulled at the strings.
Old Woman
The old woman steadied the biwa.
Chorus
A sound of pulling and plucking, "Barari,
karari, karari, barari," a beauty filled full of
tears, a singing bound in with the music,
unending, returning.
Moronaga
Moronaga thought—
Chorus
—I learned in Hi-no-Moto all that men
knew of the biwa, and now I am ashamed to
have thought of going to China. I need not
go out of this country. So he secretly went
out of the cottage. And the old man, not
"Etenraku," the upper cloud music, this
song:
Let the nightingale keep to her flowers."
The old man is playing, not knowing the
guest has gone out.
Old Woman
The stranger has gone.
Old Man
What! he is gone. Why didn't you stop
him?
Both
So they both ran after the stranger.
Chorus
And taking him by the sleeve, they said,
"The night is still only half over. Stay here."
Moronaga
Why do you stop me? I am going back
to the capital now, but later I will return.
Who are you? What are your names?
Emperor Murakami, and the lady is
Nashitsubo.
Chorus
To stop you from going to China we looked
on you in a dream, by the sea-coasts at Suma.
So saying, they vanished.
PART II
The Emperor Murakami
I came up to the throne in the sacred era
of Gengi,[5]
when the fine music came from
Mirokoshi, the secret and sacred music, and
the lutes Genjo, Seizan,[6]
and Shishimaru. The
last brought from the dragon world. And
now I will play on it.
And he looked out at the sea and called on
the dragon god, and played on "Shishimaru."
The lion-dragon floated out of the waves,
and the eight goddesses of the dragon stood
with him, and he then gave Moronaga the
biwa. And Moronaga took it, beginning to
play. And the dragon king moved with the
And Murakami took up one part. That was
music. Then Murakami stepped into the
cloudy chariot, drawn by the eight goddesses
of the dragon, and was lifted up beyond sight.
And Moronaga took a swift horse back to his
city, bearing that biwa with him.
"Noh", or, Accomplishment : | ||