More Portmanteau Plays

[_Before the House of Obaa-San. At the right back is a weeping willow tree, at the left the simple little house of Obaa-San._

[_O-Sode-San and O-Katsu-San enter._

O-Sode-San. Oi!... Oi!... Obaa-San!

O-Katsu-San. Obaa-San!... Grandmother!

O-Sode-San. She is not there.

O-Katsu-San. Poor Obaa-San.

O-Sode-San. Why do you always pity Obaa-San? Are her clothes not whole? Has she not her full store of rice?

O-Katsu-San. Ay!

O-Sode-San. Then what more can one want--a full hand, a full belly, and a warm body!

O-Katsu-San. A full heart, perhaps.

O-Sode-San. What does Obaa-San know of a heart, silly O-Katsu? She has had no husband to die and leave her alone. She has had no child to die and leave her arms empty.

O-Katsu-San. Hai! Hai! She does not know.

O-Sode-San. She has had no lover to smile upon her and then--pass on.

O-Katsu-San. But Obaa-San is not happy.

O-Sode-San. Pss-s!

O-Katsu-San. She may be lonely because she has never had any one to love or to love her.

O-Sode-San. How could one love Obaa-San? She is too hideous for love. She would frighten the children away--and even a drunken lover would laugh in her ugly face. Obaa-San! The grandmother!

O-Katsu-San. O-Sode, might we not be too cruel to her?

O-Sode-San. If we could not laugh at Obaa-San, how then could we laugh? She has been sent from the dome of the sky for our mirth.

O-Katsu-San. I do not know! I do not know! Sometimes I think I hear tears in her laugh!

O-Sode-San. Pss-s! That is no laugh. Obaa-San cackles like an old hen.

O-Katsu-San. I think she is unhappy now and then--always, perhaps.

O-Sode-San. Has she not her weeping willow tree--the grandmother?

Ay. She loves the tree.

O-Sode-San. The grandmother of the weeping willow tree! It's well for the misshapen, and the childless, and the loveless to have a tree to love.

O-Katsu-San. But, O-Sode, the weeping willow tree can not love her. Perhaps even old Obaa-San longs for love.

O-Sode-San. Do we not come daily to her to talk to her? And to ask her all about her weeping willow tree?

O-Katsu-San. Oi! Obaa-San.

[_A sigh is heard._

O-Sode-San. What was that, O-Katsu?

O-Katsu-San. Someone sighed--a deep, hard sigh.

O-Sode-San. Oi! Obaa-San! Grandmother!

[_The sigh is almost a moan._

O-Katsu-San. It seemed to come from the weeping willow tree.

O-Sode-San. O-Katsu! Perhaps some evil spirit haunts the tree.

O-Katsu-San. Some hideous Gaki! Like the Gaki of Kokoru--the evil ghost that can feed only on the unrest of humans. Their unhappiness is his food. He has to find misery in order to live, and win his way back once more to humanity. To different men he changes his shape at will, and sometimes is invisible.

O-Sode-San. Quick, Katsu, let us go to the shrine--and pray--and pray.

Ay. There!

[_They go out. The Gaki appears._

The Gaki. Why did you sigh?

THE VOICE OF THE TREE

O Gaki of Kokoru! My heart hangs within me like the weight of years on Obaa-San.

The Gaki. Why did you moan?

The Tree. The tree is growing--and it tears my heart.

The Gaki. I live upon your unrest. Feed me! Feed me!

[_The tree sighs and moans and The Gaki seems transported with joy._

The Tree. Please! Please! Give me my freedom.

The Gaki. Where then should I feed? Unless I feed on your unhappiness I should cease to live--and I must live.

The Tree. Someone else, perchance, may suffer in my stead.

The Gaki. I care not where or how I feed. I am in the sixth hell, and if I die in this shape I must remain in this hell through all the eternities. One like me must feed his misery by making others miserable. I can not rise through the other five hells to human life unless I have human misery for my food.

The Tree. Oh, can't you feed on joy--on happiness, on faith?

The Gaki. Faith? Yes, perhaps--but only on perfect faith. If I found perfect faith--ah, then--I dare not dream.--There is no faith.

The Tree. Do not make me suffer more. Let me enjoy the loveliness of things.

The Gaki. Would you have someone else suffer in your stead?

The Tree. Someone else--someone else--

The Gaki. Ay--old Obaa-San--she whom they call the grandmother.

[_The Tree moans._

The Gaki. She will suffer in your stead.

The Tree. No! No! She loves me! She of all the world loves me! No--not she!

The Gaki. It shall be she!

The Tree. I shall not leave!

The Gaki. You give me better food than I have ever known. You wait! You wait!

The Tree. Here comes Obaa-San! Do not let her suffer for me!

The Gaki. You shall be free--as free as anyone can be--when I have made the misery of Obaa-San complete.

The Tree. She has never fully known her misery. Her heart is like an iron-bound chest long-locked, with the key lost.

The Gaki. We shall find the key! We shall find the key!

The Tree. I shall warn her.

The Gaki. Try!

The Tree. Alas! I can not make her hear! I can not tell her anything.

The Gaki. She can not understand you! She can not see me unless I wish! Earth people never see or hear!

The Tree. Hai! Hai! Hai!

[_Obaa-San enters. She is old, very, very old, and withered and misshapen. There is only laughter in your heart when you look at Obaa-San unless you see her eyes. Then_--

Obaa-San. My tree! My little tree! Why do you sigh?

The Tree. Hai! Hai! Hai!

Obaa-San. Sometimes I think I pity you. Yes, dear tree!

The Tree. Hai! Hai! Hai!

The Gaki. Now I am a traveller. She sees me pleasantly.--Grandmother!

Obaa-San. Ay, sir!

The Gaki. Which way to Kyushu?

Obaa-San. You have lost your way. Far, far back beyond the ferry landing at Ishiyama to your right. That is the way to Kyushu.

The Gaki. Ah, me!

Obaa-San. You are tired. Will you not sit and rest?--Will you not have some rice?

The Gaki. Oh, no.--Where is your brood, grandmother?

Obaa-San. I have no brood. I am no grandmother. I am no mother.

The Gaki. What! Are there tears in your voice?

Obaa-San. Tears! Why should I weep?

The Gaki. I do not know, grandmother!

Obaa-San. I am no grandmother!--Who sent you here to laugh at me?--O-Sode-San? 'Tis she who laughs at me, because--

The Gaki. No one, old woman--

Obaa-San. Yes, yes, old woman. That is it. Old woman!--Who are you? I am not wont to cry my griefs to any one.

The Gaki. Griefs? You have griefs?

Obaa-San. Ay! Even _I_--she whom they call Obaa-San--have griefs.--Even I! But they are locked deep within me. No one knows!

The Gaki. Someone must know.

Obaa-San. I shall tell no one.

The Gaki. Someone must know!

Obaa-San. You speak like some spirit--and I feel that I must obey.

The Gaki. Someone must know!

Obaa-San. I shall not speak. Who cares?--What is it I shall do? Tell my story--unlock my heart--so that O-Sode-San may laugh and laugh and laugh. Is it not enough that some evil spirit feeds upon my deep unrest?

The Gaki. How can one feed upon your unrest when you lock it in your heart? (_The voices of O-Sode-San and O-Katsu-San are heard calling to Obaa-San_) Here come some friends of yours. Tell them your tale.

[_He goes out._

Obaa-San. Strange. I feel that I must speak out my heart.

[_O-Sode-San and O-Katsu-San come in._

O-Sode-San. Good morning, grandmother!

OBAA-SAN (_with a strange wistfulness in her tone_)

Good morning, O-Sode-San. Good morning, O-Katsu-San. May the bright day bring you a bright heart.

O-Katsu-San. And you, Obaa-San.

O-Sode-San. How is the weeping willow tree, grandmother?

Obaa-San. It is there--close to me.

O-Sode-San. And does it speak to you, grandmother--

Obaa-San. I am no grandmother! I am no grandmother! I am no mother! O-Sode, can you not understand? I am no mother.--I am no wife.--There is no one.--I am only an old woman.--In the spring I see the world turn green and I hear the song of happy birds and feel the perfumed balmy air upon my cheek--and every spring that cheek is older and more wrinkled and I have always been alone. I see the stars on a summer night and listen for the dawn--and there never has been a strong hand to touch me nor tiny fingers to reach out for me. I have heard the crisp autumn winds fight the falling leaves and I have known that long winter days and nights were coming--and I have always been alone--alone. I have pretended to you--what else could I do? Grandmother! Grandmother! Every time you speak the name, the emptiness of my life stands before me like a royal Kakemono all covered with unliving people.

O-Sode-San. You never seemed to care.

Obaa-San. Did I not care! Grandmother! Grandmother! Why? Because I loved a weeping willow tree. Because to me it was real. It was my baby. But no lover ever came to woo. No words ever came to me.--Think you, O-Sode-San, that the song of birds in the branches is ease to an empty heart. Think you that the wind amongst the leaves soothes the mad unrest in here. (_She beats her breast_) I have no one--no one. I talk to my weeping willow tree--but there is no answer--no answer, O-Sode-San--only stillness--and yet--sometimes I think I hear a sigh.--Grandmother! Grandmother! There! Is that enough? I've bared my heart to you. Go spread the news--I am lonely and old--old.--I have always been lonely. Go spread the news.

O-Katsu-San. No, Obaa-San. We shall not spread the news. No one shall know.

O-Sode-San. But--we pity you.

Obaa-San. I need no pity.--Now my heart is unlocked. The dread Gaki of Kokoru who feeds upon unrest can come to me and feed upon my pain. I care not.

The Tree. Hai! Hai! Hai!

O-Katsu-San. Someone sighs.

Obaa-San. Yes. It is my tree. Perhaps there, too, someone in deep distress is imprisoned--as I am imprisoned in this body.--Hai! You do not know. You do not know!

O-Sode-San. Obaa-San--we have been hurting. I never knew--I am sorry, Obaa-San.

O-Katsu-San. You have been lonely, Obaa-San, but you have always been lonely. I know the having and I know the losing.

Ay. 'Tis better to long for love than to have it--and then lose. Look at me, whom the villagers call the bitter one. He came to me so long ago.--It was spring, Obaa-San, and perfume filled the air and birds were singing and his voice was like the voice from the sky-dome--all clear and wonderful. Together we saw the cherry trees bloom--_once_: and on a summer night we saw the wonder of the firefly fête. My heart was young and life was beautiful. We watched the summer moon--and when the autumn came--Ai! Ai! Ai! Obaa-San.--I knew a time of love--and oh, the time of hopelessness! And I shut my heart. I did not see, Obaa-San.

Obaa-San. You knew his love, O-Sode-San. You touched his hand.

O-Katsu-San. But what is that? To her--my little girl--I gave all my dreams. I felt her baby hands in mine and in the night I could reach out to her. I lived for her. And then, one day--Obaa-San, I had known the joy of motherhood and I had known the ecstasy of--child--and now--Her little life with me was only a dream of spring, but still my back is warm with the touch of her babyhood. The little toys still dance before my eyes. Oh, that was long ago.--Now all is black.

Obaa-San. All blackness can never fill a mother's heart.--O-Katsu-San, you have known the baby's hand in yours. But I am old--and I have never known, can never know.--I'd go to the lowest hells if once I might but know the touch of my own child's hand.

The Tree. Hai! Hai! Hai

Obaa-San. Just once--for one short day--to fill the empty place in my heart that has always been empty--and a pain--

O-Sode-San. Who is that man, Obaa-San?

Obaa-San. There? That is a stranger seeking for Kyushu.

O-Katsu-San. He seems to wish to speak to you.

Obaa-San. A strange man. 'Twas he who seemed to make me unlock my heart to you.

O-Sode-San. Then shall we go.--And we'll return, Obaa-San.

Obaa-San. Grandmother!

O-Katsu-San. We'll laugh no more.

[_They leave. Obaa-San turns to the tree. The Gaki enters, strangely agitated._

The Gaki. Obaa-San, for so they called you, tell me--did you say you'd go to the lowest hells if you might know the touch of your own child?

Obaa-San. Forever--could I but fill this emptiness in my mother-heart.

The Gaki. Would you really pay?

Obaa-San. Yes, yes. But why do you ask?--Who are you?

The Gaki. I am a stranger bound for Kyushu.

Obaa-San. Why do you, too, make sport of me?

The Gaki. Go you into your house and come not till I call.

[_Obaa-San obeys under a strange compulsion._

The Tree. Hai! Hai! Hai

The Gaki. You can not feed me now. That cry was the wind amongst your branches. Come. I bid you come to life, to human form.

The Tree. I do not wish to come.

The Gaki. I bid you come!

[_When he touches the trunk of the tree, Aoyagi steps forth. She is small. Her little body is swathed in brown and from her arms hang long sleeves like the branches of the weeping willow. At first she shrinks. Then freedom takes hold on her and she opens her arms wide._

The Gaki. You are free.

Aoyagi. Free!

The Gaki. As free as one in life. You are bound to the tree as one might be bound to his body in a dream--but you may wander as one wanders in a dream--free until the waking--then when the tree suffers, you shall suffer. Though you be leagues away, you shall suffer.--But first you shall dream.--Now you are to be the daughter of Obaa-San.

Aoyagi. Oi!

The Gaki. Do not call yet.--You are to wed the first young man who passes here and you are to follow him.

Aoyagi. But--Obaa-San?

The Gaki. She shall feed me with her new-made misery.

Aoyagi. No--no--she loved me so!

The Gaki. She shall feed me. You will be happy.

[_He disappears._

Aoyagi. Free! And happy!

[_The Gaki's voice is heard calling Obaa-San. She comes in and looks about. At last her old tired eyes see Aoyagi. For a moment they face each other._

Aoyagi. Hai.

Obaa-San. A dream!

Aoyagi. Mother--

[_Obaa-San stands mute. She listens--yearning for the word again._

Obaa-San. Have you lost your way?

Aoyagi. No, mother--

[_Obaa-San does not know what to think or do. A strange giddiness seizes on her and a great light fills her eyes._

Obaa-San. How beautiful the name! But I am only Obaa-San. Your mother--

[_She shakes her old head sadly._

Aoyagi. Obaa-San, my mother.

[_Obaa-San lays her hand upon her heart. Then she stretches out her arms._

Obaa-San. Obaa-San--your mother--where is my pain? And you--who are you?

Aoyagi. I am Aoyagi, mother.

Obaa-San. You have not lost your way?

Aoyagi. I have but just found my way.

Obaa-San. My pain is stilled. There is no emptiness. It is a dream--a dream of spring and butterflies--Aoyagi!

[_She stretches out her arms and silently Aoyagi glides into them--as though they had always been waiting for her._

Obaa-San. I seem never to have known a time when you were not here.

Aoyagi. Oh, mother dear, it is now--and now is always, if we will.

Obaa-San. It seems as though the weeping willow tree had warmed and shown its heart to me.

Aoyagi. I am the Lady of the Weeping Willow tree!

Obaa-San. I care not who or what you are. You are here--close to my heart and I have waited always. I know I dream--I know.

Aoyagi. How long I've tried to speak to you!

Obaa-San. How long my heart has yearned for you!

Aoyagi. Mother!

[_The Gaki appears._

The Gaki. Such happiness. Already she has forgotten the coming of the man.

Obaa-San. Oh, how I've dreamed of you! When I was very, very young and had my little doll, I dreamed of you. I used to sing a lullaby and still I sing it in my heart:

See, baby, see The ears of the wolf are long; Sleep, baby, sleep, Your father is brave and strong.

I grew into womanhood and still I dreamed of you. And, dreaming still, I grew old. And all the world it seemed to me, made sport of my longing and my loneliness. The people of the village called me grandmother. The children echoed the grownups' cry and ran from me. Now--Aoyagi--you are here. Oh, the warmth--the peace. Come let me gather flowers for the house. Let me--

Aoyagi. Oh, mother, dear. I am so happy here.

OBAA-SAN (_suddenly becoming the solicitous mother, she handles Aoyagi as one might handle a doll_)

Are you--truly?--Are you warm?--You are hungry!

Aoyagi. No--I am just happy.

[_She nestles close to Obaa-San. There is complete contentment._

Obaa-San. I shall bring you--a surprise.

[_She darts into the house. Immediately The Gaki comes in._

The Gaki. You seem very happy, Aoyagi. And your mother is very happy, too.--And I am hungry now.

Aoyagi. You will not hurt her! Let me go back to the Weeping Willow Tree--

The Gaki. That would kill her--perhaps.

Aoyagi. No--no--I should be near her then--always.

The Gaki. But where would I have my food? Not in your heart, not in hers--I should starve and I must live.

Aoyagi. What then?

The Gaki. See!

[_He points to the road. Aoyagi looks in that direction as The Gaki disappears. Riki comes in. Occasionally one may hear a bit of a lullaby sung in the old cracked voice of Obaa-San_:

See, baby, see The ears of the wolf are long; Sleep, baby, sleep, Your father is brave and strong.

_Riki is a poet, young, free, romantic. He faces Aoyagi a little moment as though a wonderful dragonfly had poised above his reflection in a pool._

Riki. You are she!

Aoyagi. My--who--are--you?

Riki. I am a poet--I have sought everywhere for you.

Aoyagi. I am the Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree!

Riki. You are my love.

Aoyagi. I am the daughter of Obaa-San.

Riki. I love you so!

Aoyagi. Yes--I love you so!--But I love Obaa-San, my mother--

Riki. Come with me.

Aoyagi. But Obaa-San--

Riki. Come with me. Butterfly, butterfly, alight upon the Willow Tree And if you rest not well, then fly home to me. See! I make a little verse for you.

Aoyagi. But--Obaa-San--is very old and very lonely.

Riki. She is your mother.--She must be glad to let you go.

Aoyagi. She does not know you.

Riki. I know you.

Aoyagi. Yes--but I can not leave Obaa-San.

Riki. We can not stay with Obaa-San.

Aoyagi. Can we not take her with us?

Riki. No--like the Oshidori--we can go only by two and two along the silent stream--and as Oshidori in silence and in happiness float on and on and seem to cleave the mirrored sky that lies deep within the dark waters, so we must go, we two, just you and I, to some silent place where only you and I may be--and look and look until we see the thousand years of love in each other's hearts.

Aoyagi. Something speaks to me above the pity for poor Obaa-San.

Riki. It is love.

Aoyagi. I love Obaa-San.

Riki. This is love beyond love. This is earth and air--sea and sky.

Aoyagi. I do not even know your name.

Riki. What does my name matter? I am I--you are you.

Aoyagi. I love Obaa-San, my mother.--I feel happy in her arms;--I felt at peace;--but now I feel that I must go to you.--I am fearful--yet I must go.--You are--

Riki. I am Riki. But what can Riki mean that already my eyes have not said?

Aoyagi. I feel a strange unrest--that is happiness.

Riki. Come!

Aoyagi. First let me speak to Obaa-San.

Riki. Look--out there--a mountain gleaming in the fresh spring air.--Amongst the trees I know a glade that waits for you and me.--A little stream comes plashing by and silver fishes leap from pool to pool--dazzling jewels in the leaf-broken sunlight. Tall bamboo trees planted deep in the father earth reach up to the sky.--And there the hand of some great god can reach down to us and feed our happiness--

Aoyagi. Riki--I must go--I feel the strong hand leading me--I feel the happy pain--I long--I would stay with Obaa-San; but, Riki, I must go.--Yon mountain gleaming in the sun--the bamboo trees--the silver fishes--you--

[_Obaa-San enters carrying an armful of wistaria blossoms. She is radiant. Then--she sees the lovers--and she understands. The blossoms slip from her arms._

Obaa-San. When do you go?

Aoyagi. Obaa-San, my mother--something outside of me calls and I must obey.

Obaa-San. I understand.--It must be wonderful, my little daughter.

Aoyagi. Mother!--This is Riki.

Obaa-San. Riki!--See that you bring her happiness.

Riki. I could not fail. I have searched for her always.

Obaa-San. We always search for someone--we humans.--Sometimes we find--sometimes we wait always.

Aoyagi. Riki, I must not go. Obaa-San is my mother--and I am all she has.

Obaa-San. Yes, Aoyagi, you are all I have and that is why I can let you go. Be happy--

Aoyagi. But you, my mother.

Obaa-San. For my sake, be happy. Some day I shall be Obaa-San no more--and what of you then? Go, my little darling, go with Riki.--Some day, you will return.

Riki. We shall return some day, Obaa-San.

Aoyagi. Farewell.

[_Very simply she steps into Obaa-San's outstretched arms and then, as though they had been forever empty, Obaa-San stands gazing into space with her arms outstretched. Aoyagi and Riki go out._

Obaa-San. Hai!--Hai!

[_She lays her hand upon her heart and, looking into space, turns to the house. There is the empty tree--her empty heart! The Gaki comes in._

The Gaki. Oi! Obaa-San!

[_Obaa-San turns mechanically._

Obaa-San. Did you not find your way?

The Gaki. I found my way.--But why this unhappiness in your eyes?

Obaa-San. I am very lonely. I have lived my lifelong dream of spring and butterflies a single instant--and it is gone.

[_She turns to go._

The Gaki. I feed! I feed!

[_The voices of O-Sode and O-Katsu are heard calling Obaa-San._

Here are your friends again.

[_O-Sode and O-Katsu come in._

O-Sode-San. Hai! Obaa-San, a little lady passed and told us you were lonely.

Obaa-San. I am lonely.--But I have always been lonely.

O-Sode-San. What has happened?

[_The Gaki, hidden, has been triumphant. Suddenly he seems to shrivel as if drawn with rage._

Obaa-San. I waited, oh so long--you know.--I opened my arms.--My dream came true.--I sang my lullaby--to my child.--A lover came;--they have gone.

O-Katsu-San. She is a-wander in her mind.

Obaa-San. I opened my arms here--like this.--She stepped into them as though she had been there always--and now she has gone.--In one short moment I lived my mother-life.

O-Sode-San. It was magic! Come, Obaa-San, we'll make some prayers to burn.

O-Katsu-San. Some evil ghost.

Obaa-San. No! No! Some kindly spirit from the sky-dome came to me.--I have had one moment of happiness complete.--I dreamed and I have known. Now I shall dream again--a greater dream--a greater dream.

[_The old women go into the house._

The Gaki. What! I can not feed! My Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree is gone! Obaa-San has built a circle of happiness about her head. Hai! I shall die in this shape.--I must feed.--Perhaps she tries to trick me.--I shall listen.--Why does she not weep?--Why do they not wail?

[_He starts for the house. As he nears it, the voice of Obaa-San is heard crooning the little lullaby_:

See, baby, see The ears of the wolf are long; Sleep, baby, sleep, Your father is brave and strong.

THE GAKI (_defeated, seems beside himself. Suddenly he looks out and sees the mountain-peak_) I'll find them in the bamboo glade. Perhaps I can make unhappiness there. Riki and Aoyagi!

_The Curtains Close._