PART I
By SEAMI[185]
PERSONS
_THE TRAVELLER._ _HIS WIFE._ _HIS DAUGHTER._ _THE INNKEEPER._ _THE PRIEST._ _THE ACOLYTE._ _CHORUS._
TRAVELLER.
I am a man who lives in the Capital. Maybe because of some great wrong I did in a former life ... I have fallen into trouble and cannot go on living here.
I have a friend in the East country. Perhaps he would help me. I will take my wife and child and go at once to the ends of the East.
(_He travels to the East, singing as he goes a song about the places through which he passes._)
We are come to the Inn. (_Knocks at the door._) We are travellers. Pray give us shelter.
INNKEEPER.
Lodging, do you say? Come in with me. This way. Tell me, where have you come from?
TRAVELLER.
I come from the Capital, and I am going down to the East to visit my friend.
INNKEEPER.
Listen. I am sorry. There is something I must tell you privately. Whoever passes this night at the Inn must go to-morrow to the drawing of lots at the sacrifice. I am sorry for it, but you would do best to leave the Inn before dawn. Tell no one what I have said, and mind you start early.
TRAVELLER.
If we may sleep here now we will gladly start at dawn.
(_They lie down and sleep in the open courtyard. After a while they rise and start on their journey._)
_Enter the_ PRIEST.
PRIEST.
Hey! where are you?
_Enter the_ ACOLYTE.
ACOLYTE.
Here I am.
PRIEST.
I hear that three travellers stayed at the Inn last night and have left before dawn. Go after them and stop them.
ACOLYTE.
I listen and obey. Hey, you travellers, go no further!
TRAVELLER.
Is it at us you are shouting?
ACOLYTE.
Yes, indeed it is at you.
TRAVELLER.
And why should we stop? Tell me the reason.
ACOLYTE.
He is right. It is not to be wondered at that he should ask the reason. (_To the_ TRAVELLER.) Listen. Each year at this place there is a sacrifice at the Pool. To-day is the festival of this holy rite, and we ask you to join in it.
TRAVELLER.
I understand you. But it is for those that live here, those that were born children of this Deity, to attend his worship. Must a wanderer go with you because he chances to lodge here for a night?
(_He turns to go._)
ACOLYTE.
No, No! For all you say, this will not do.
PRIEST.
Stay! Sir, we do not wonder that you should think this strange. But listen to me. From ancient times till now no traveller has ever lodged this night of the year at the Inn of Yoshiwara without attending the sacrifice at the Pool. If you are in a hurry, come quickly to the sacrifice, and then with a blessing set out again on your journey.
TRAVELLER.
I understand you. But, as I have said, for such rites as these you should take men born in the place.... No, I still do not understand. Why should a fleeting traveller be summoned to this Pool-Sacrifice?
PRIEST.
It is a Great Custom.
TRAVELLER.
That may be. I do not question that that is your rule. But I beg you, consider my case and excuse me.
PRIEST.
Would you be the first to break a Great Custom that has been observed since ancient times?
TRAVELLER.
No, that is not what I meant. But if we are to discuss this matter, I must be plain with you.... I am a man of the Capital. Perhaps because of some ill deed done in a former life I have suffered many troubles. At last I could no longer build the pathway of my life, so I took my wife and child and set out to seek my friend who lives in the East. Pray let me go on my way.
PRIEST.
Indeed, indeed you have cause for distress. But from ancient times till now
Parents have been taken And countless beyond all knowing Wives and husbands parted.
Call this, if you will, the retribution of a former life. But now come with us quickly to the shores of the Holy Pool.
(_Describing his own actions._)
So saying, the Priest and acolytes went forward.
WIFE and DAUGHTER.
And the wife and child, crying “Oh what shall we do?” clutched at the father’s sleeve.
TRAVELLER.
But the father could find no words to speak. He stood baffled, helpless....
PRIEST.
They must not loiter. Divide them and drive them on!
ACOLYTE.
So he drove them before him and they walked like ...
TRAVELLER.
If true comparison were made ...
CHORUS.
Like guilty souls of the Dead Driven to Judgment By fiends reproachful; Whose hearts unknowing Like dew in day-time To nothing dwindle. Like sheep to shambles They walk weeping, No step without a tear Till to the Pool they come.
PRIEST.
Now we are come to the Pool, and by its edge are ranged the Priest, the acolytes, the virgins and dancing-boys.
CHORUS.
There is one doom-lot; Yet those that are thinking “Will it be mine?” They are a hundred, And many times a hundred.
PRIEST.
Embracing, clasping hands ...
CHORUS.
Pale-faced
PRIEST.
Sinking at heart
CHORUS.
“On whom will it fall?” Not knowing, thick as snow, White snow of winter fall their prayers To their clan-gods, “Protect us” ... Palm pressed to palm.
PRIEST.
At last the Priest mounted the daïs, raised the lid of the box and counted the lots to see that there was one for each to take.
CHORUS.
Then all the people came forward To draw their lots. And each when he unfolded his lot And found it was not the First, How glad he was! But the traveller’s daughter, Knowing her fate, Fell weeping to the earth.
PRIEST.
Are there not three travellers? They have only drawn two lots. The First Lot is still undrawn. Tell them that one of them must draw it.
ACOLYTE.
I listen and obey. Ho, you travellers, it is to you I am speaking. There are three of you, and you have only drawn two lots. The Priest says one of you must draw the First Lot.
TRAVELLER.
We have all drawn.
ACOLYTE.
No, I am sure the young girl has not drawn her lot. Look, here it is. Yes, and it is the Doom-lot!
WIFE.
The First Lot! How terrible!
Hoping to rear you to womanhood, we wandered blindly from the City and came down to the unknown country of the East. For your sake we set our hearts on this sad journey. If you are taken, what will become of us? How hideous!
DAUGHTER.
Do not sob so! If you or my father had drawn this lot, what should I have done? But now it has fallen to me, and it is hard for you to let me go.
TRAVELLER.
What brave words! “If you or my father had drawn this lot....” There is great piety in that saying. (_To his_ WIFE.) Come, do not sob so before all these people. We are both parents and must have like feelings. But from the time I set out to this holy lottery something told me that of the three of us one would be taken. Look! I am not crying.
WIFE.
I thought as you did, yet ... It is too much! Can it all be real?
TRAVELLER.
The father said “I will not show weakness,” yet while he was speaking bravely Because she was his dear daughter His secret tears Could not be checked.
WIFE.
Is this a dream or is it real?
(_She clings to the daughter, wailing._)
PRIEST.
Because the time had come The Priest and his men Stood waiting on the shore
CHORUS.
They decked the boat with ribands And upon a bed of water-herbs They laid the maiden of the Pool.
PRIEST.
The priest pulled the ribands And spoke the words of prayer.
[In the second part of the play the dragon of the Pool is appeased and the girl restored to life.]
FOOTNOTE:
[185] The play is given in a list of Seami’s works composed on the authority of his great-grandson, Kwanze Nagatoshi, in 1524. Ōwada gives it as anonymous.
HATSUYUKI
(EARLY SNOW)
By KOPARU ZEMBŌ MOTOYASU (1453-1532).
PERSONS
_EVENING MIST, a servant girl._ _A LADY, the Abbot’s daughter._ _TWO NOBLE LADIES._ _THE SOUL OF THE BIRD HATSUYUKI (“Early Snow”)._ _CHORUS._
SCENE: _The Great Temple at Izumo_.
SERVANT.
I am a servant at the Nyoroku Shrine in the Great Temple of Izumo. My name is Evening Mist. You must know that the Lord Abbot has a daughter, a beautiful lady and gentle as can be. And she keeps a tame bird that was given her a year ago, and because it was a lovely white bird she called it Hatsuyuki, Early Snow; and she loves it dearly.
I have not seen the bird to-day. I think I will go to the bird-cage and have a look at it.
(_She goes to the cage._)
Mercy on us, the bird is not there! Whatever shall I say to my lady? But I shall have to tell her. I think I’ll tell her now. Madam, madam, your dear Snow-bird is not here!
LADY.
What is that you say? Early Snow is not there? It cannot be true.
(_She goes to the cage._)
It is true. Early Snow has gone! How can that be? How can it be that my pretty one that was so tame should vanish and leave no trace?
Oh bitterness of snows That melt and disappear! Now do I understand The meaning of a midnight dream That lately broke my rest. A harbinger it was Of Hatsuyuki’s fate.
(_She bursts into tears._)
CHORUS.
Though for such tears and sighs There be no cause, Yet came her grief so suddenly, Her heart’s fire is ablaze; And all the while Never a moment are her long sleeves dry. They say that written letters first were traced By feet of birds in sand Yet Hatsuyuki leaves no testament.
(_They mourn._)
CHORUS (_“kuse” chant, irregular verse accompanied by dancing_).
How sad to call to mind When first it left the breeding-cage So fair of form And coloured white as snow. We called it Hatsuyuki, “Year’s First Snow.” And where our mistress walked It followed like a shadow at her side. But now alas! it is a bird of parting[186] Though not in Love’s dark lane.
LADY.
There’s no help now. (_She weeps bitterly._)
CHORUS.
Still there is one way left. Stop weeping, Lady, And turn your heart to him who vowed to hear. The Lord Amida, if a prayer be said-- Who knows but he can bring Even a bird’s soul into Paradise And set it on the Lotus Pedestal?[187]
LADY.
Evening Mist, are you not sad that Hatsuyuki has gone? ... But we must not cry any more. Let us call together the noble ladies of this place and for seven days sit with them praying behind barred doors. Go now and do my bidding.
(EVENING MIST _fetches the_ NOBLE LADIES _of the place_).
TWO NOBLE LADIES (_together_).
A solemn Mass we sing A dirge for the Dead; At this hour of heart-cleansing We beat on Buddha’s gong.
(_They pray._)
NAMU AMIDA BUTSU NAMU NYORAI
Praise to Amida Buddha, Praise to Mida our Saviour!
(_The prayers and gong-beating last for some time and form the central ballet of the play._)
CHORUS (_the bird’s soul appears as a white speck in the sky_).
Look! Look! A cloud in the clear mid-sky! But it is not a cloud. With pure white wings beating the air The Snow-bird comes! Flying towards our lady Lovingly he hovers, Dances before her.
THE BIRD’S SOUL.
Drawn by the merit of your prayers and songs
CHORUS.
Straightway he was reborn in Paradise. By the pond of Eight Virtues he walks abroad: With the Phœnix and Fugan his playtime passing. He lodges in the sevenfold summit of the trees of Heaven. No hurt shall harm him For ever and ever.
Now like the tasselled doves we loose From battlements on holy days A little while he flutters; Flutters a little while and then is gone We know not where.
FOOTNOTES:
[186] “Wakare no tori,” the bird which warns lovers of the approach of day.
[187] Turn it into a Buddha.
HAKU RAKUTEN
By SEAMI
INTRODUCTION
The Chinese poet Po Chü-i, whom the Japanese call Haku Rakuten, was born in 772 A. D. and died in 847. His works enjoyed immense contemporary popularity in China, Korea and Japan. In the second half of the ninth century the composition of Chinese verse became fashionable at the Japanese Court, and native forms of poetry were for a time threatened with extinction.
The Nō play _Haku Rakuten_ deals with this literary peril. It was written at the end of the fourteenth century, a time when Japanese art and literature were again becoming subject to Chinese influence. Painting and prose ultimately succumbed, but poetry was saved.
Historically, Haku Rakuten never came to Japan. But the danger of his influence was real and actual, as may be deduced from reading the works of Sugawara no Michizane, the greatest Japanese poet of the ninth century. Michizane’s slavish imitations of Po Chü-i show an unparalleled example of literary prostration. The plot of the play is as follows:
Rakuten is sent by the Emperor of China to “subdue” Japan with his art. On arriving at the coast of Bizen, he meets with two Japanese fishermen. One of them is in reality the god of Japanese poetry, Sumiyoshi no Kami. In the second act his identity is revealed. He summons other gods, and a great dancing-scene ensues. Finally the wind from their dancing-sleeves blows the Chinese poet’s ship back to his own country.
Seami, in his plays, frequently quotes Po Chü-i’s poems; and in his lament for the death of his son, Zemparu Motomasa, who died in 1432, he refers to the death of Po Chü-i’s son, A-ts’ui.
PERSONS
_RAKUTEN_ (_a Chinese poet_).
_AN OLD FISHERMAN, SUMIYOSHI NO KAMI, who in Act II becomes the God of Japanese Poetry._
_ANOTHER FISHERMAN._
_CHORUS OF FISHERMEN._
SCENE: _The coast of Bizen in Japan_.
HAKU.
I am Haku Rakuten, a courtier of the Prince of China. There is a land in the East called Nippon.[188] Now, at my master’s bidding, I am sent to that land to make proof of the wisdom of its people. I must travel over the paths of the sea.
I will row my boat towards the rising sun, The rising sun; And seek the country that lies to the far side Over the wave-paths of the Eastern Sea. Far my boat shall go, My boat shall go,-- With the light of the setting sun in the waves of its wake And a cloud like a banner shaking the void of the sky. Now the moon rises, and on the margin of the sea A mountain I discern. I am come to the land of Nippon, The land of Nippon.
So swiftly have I passed over the ways of the ocean that I am come already to the shores of Nippon. I will cast anchor here a little while. I would know what manner of land this may be.
THE TWO FISHERMEN (_together_).
Dawn over the Sea of Tsukushi, Place of the Unknown Fire. Only the moonlight--nothing else left!
THE OLD FISHERMAN.
The great waters toss and toss; The grey waves soak the sky.
THE TWO FISHERMEN.
So was it when Han Rei[189] left the land of Etsu And rowed in a little boat Over the misty waves of the Five Lakes.
How pleasant the sea looks! From the beach of Matsura Westward we watch the hill-less dawn. A cloud, where the moon is setting, Floats like a boat at sea, A boat at sea That would anchor near us in the dawn. Over the sea from the far side, From China the journey of a ship’s travel Is a single night’s sailing, they say. And lo! the moon has vanished!
HAKU.
I have borne with the billows of a thousand miles of sea and come at last to the land of Nippon. Here is a little ship anchored near me. An old fisherman is in it. Can this be indeed an inhabitant of Nippon?
OLD FISHERMAN.
Aye, so it is. I am an old fisher of Nihon. And your Honour, I think, is Haku Rakuten, of China.
HAKU.
How strange! No sooner am I come to this land than they call me by my name! How can this be?
SECOND FISHERMAN.
Although your Honour is a man of China, your name and fame have come before you.
HAKU.
Even though my name be known, yet that you should know my face is strange surely!
THE TWO FISHERMEN.
It was said everywhere in the Land of Sunrise that your Honour, Rakuten, would come to make trial of the wisdom of Nihon. And when, as we gazed westwards, we saw a boat coming in from the open sea, the hearts of us all thought in a twinkling, “This is he.”
CHORUS.
“He has come, he has come.” So we cried when the boat came in To the shore of Matsura, The shore of Matsura. Sailing in from the sea Openly before us-- A Chinese ship And a man from China,-- How could we fail to know you, Haku Rakuten? But your halting words tire us. Listen as we will, we cannot understand Your foreign talk. Come, our fishing-time is precious. Let us cast our hooks, Let us cast our hooks!
HAKU.
Stay! Answer me one question.[190] Bring your boat closer and tell me, Fisherman, what is your pastime now in Nippon?
FISHERMAN.
And in the land of China, pray how do your Honours disport yourselves?
HAKU.
In China we play at making poetry.
FISHERMAN.
And in Nihon, may it please you, we venture on the sport of making “uta.”[191]
HAKU.
And what are “uta”?
FISHERMAN.
You in China make your poems and odes out of the Scriptures of India; and we have made our “uta” out of the poems and odes of China. Since then our poetry is a blend of three lands, we have named it Yamato, the great Blend, and all our songs “Yamato Uta.” But I think you question me only to mock an old man’s simplicity.
HAKU.
No, truly; that was not my purpose. But come, I will sing a Chinese poem about the scene before us.
“Green moss donned like a cloak Lies on the shoulders of the rocks; White clouds drawn like a belt Surround the flanks of the mountains.”
How does that song please you?
FISHERMAN.
It is indeed a pleasant verse. In our tongue we should say the poem thus:
_Koke-goromo Kitaru iwao wa Samonakute, Kinu kinu yama no Obi wo suru kana!_
HAKU.
How strange that a poor fisherman should put my verse into a sweet native measure! Who can he be?
FISHERMAN.
A poor man and unknown. But as for the making of “uta,” it is not only men that make them. “For among things that live there is none that has not the gift of song.”[192]
HAKU (_taking up the other’s words as if hypnotized_).
“Among things that have life,--yes, and birds and insects--”
FISHERMAN.
They have sung Yamato songs.
HAKU.
In the land of Yamato ...
FISHERMAN.
... many such have been sung.
CHORUS.
“The nightingale singing on the bush, Even the frog that dwells in the pond----” I know not if it be in your Honour’s land, But in Nihon they sing the stanzas of the “uta.” And so it comes that an old man Can sing the song you have heard, A song of great Yamato.
CHORUS (_changing the chant_).
And as for the nightingale and the poem it made,-- They say that in the royal reign Of the Emperor Kōren In the land of Yamato, in the temple of High Heaven A priest was dwelling.[193] Each year at the season of Spring There came a nightingale To the plum-tree at his window. And when he listened to its song He heard it singing a verse:
“_Sho-yō mei-chō rai Fu-sō gem-bon sei._”
And when he wrote down the characters, Behold, it was an “uta”-song Of thirty letters and one. And the words of the song--
FISHERMAN.
_Hatsu-haru no_ Of Spring’s beginning _Ashita goto ni wa_ At each dawn _Kitaredomo_ Though I come,
CHORUS.
_Awade zo kaeru_ Unmet I return _Moto no sumika ni._ To my old nest.
Thus first the nightingale, And many birds and beasts thereto, Sing “uta,” like the songs of men. And instances are many; Many as the myriad pebbles that lie On the shore of the sea of Ariso. “For among things that live There is none that has not the gift of song.”
Truly the fisherman has the ways of Yamato in his heart. Truly, this custom is excellent.
FISHERMAN.
If we speak of the sports of Yamato and sing its songs, we should show too what dances we use; for there are many kinds.
CHORUS.
Yes, there are the dances; but there is no one to dance.
FISHERMAN.
Though there be no dancer, yet even I--
CHORUS.
For drums--the beating of the waves. For flutes--the song of the sea-dragon. For dancer--this ancient man Despite his furrowed brow Standing on the furrowed sea Floating on the green waves Shall dance the Sea Green Dance.
FISHERMAN.
And the land of Reeds and Rushes....
CHORUS.
Ten thousand years our land inviolate!
[_The rest of the play is a kind of “ballet”_; the words are merely a commentary on the dances.]
FOOTNOTES:
[188] The fact that Haku is a foreigner is conventionally emphasized by his pronunciation of this word. The fishermen, when using the same word later on, called it “Nihon.”
[189] The Chinese call him Fan Li. He lived in China in the fifth century B.C. Having rendered important services to the country of Yüeh (Etsu), he went off with his mistress in a skiff, knowing that if he remained in public life his popularity was bound to decline. The Fishermen are vaguely groping towards the idea of “a Chinaman” and a “boat.” They are not yet consciously aware of the arrival of Rakuten.
[190] Haku throughout omits the honorific turns of speech which civility demands. The Fishermen speak in elaborately deferential and honorific language. The writer wishes to portray Haku as an ill-bred foreigner.
[191] “Uta,” i. e. the thirty-one syllable Japanese stanza.
[192] Quotation from the Preface to the _Kokinshū_ (“Collection of Songs Ancient and Modern”). The fact that Haku continues the quotation shows that he is under a sort of spell and makes it clear for the first time that his interlocutor is not an ordinary mortal. From this point onwards, in fact, the Fisherman gradually becomes a God.
[193] The priest’s acolyte had died. The nightingale was the boy’s soul.