Pathway to Japanese Literature

Author: Okamoto Kidō

Cast List for the Premiere Performance

Izumiya Yohee (Dan'emon)

Osaki (Kikuzaburo)

Son: Kakutaro

Daughter: Oteru (Fukunojō)

Mid-level Servant Ofuyu (Eizaburo)

Head Clerk Denbee
Likewise: Yasuke
Likewise: Wakigoro (Dan'ojō)

Yamatoya Juemon (Hikosaburo)

Hanzo of Mikawacho (Kikugoro)

His sister Okume (Takezaburo)

Tokiwazu Mojisei (Onimaru)

Hanzo’s subordinate Kamekichi (Isaburō)

Likewise: Kojiro (Koisaburo)

Other maidservants.
Izumiya’s junior staff.
Apprentice.
Amateur theater actors.
Supporting actors.
Costume rental shop.
Male and female theater spectators and others.

Created in December of Taishō 14

*Theatre and Film*

Premiered in February 1926 at the Shinbashi Enbujō Theater.

Act I

The back room of a hardware store called Izumiya in Kyōbashi Gusokuchō.
The space had been arranged as the greenroom for the Hatsuuma Festival’s amateur play, with multiple mirror stands lined up and zabuton cushions scattered about.
There were costume trunks.
There were wigs.
There were long and short swords, woven hats, guns, and other stage props.
Candlesticks and hand-warming braziers had been placed in several places.
There were medicine kettles and tea utensils as well.
In such a narrow space, a large crowd jostled together, leaving no room to plant one’s feet—a scene of utter disarray.

—An early February night in the final years of Edo.

In the center of the room lay Izumiya’s young son Kakutaro, dressed as Kanpei from the sixth act of *Chūshingura*, face down.
Kakutaro lay half-conscious, groaning as the young clerks Shōhachi and Chōjirō tended to him.
Wakigoro, the young clerk—24 or 25 years old and made up as Chigisaki Yagorō—stepped back slightly and watched.
Inosuke, son of a drapery store in the same neighborhood, was made up as Haragorōemon, while Sansaku, son of a liquor store, had only taken a wig for his Okaya costume and sat dazedly beside them.
In addition to Gosuke from the costume rental shop, Mitsuhei—an actor summoned by the makeup artist—four or five young clerks from the store, and two apprentices stood or sat about in disarray.

Shōhachi: Hasn’t the doctor arrived yet?

Chōjirō: Someone go fetch the doctor again!

Shōhachi: Make sure to tell them clearly—there’s suddenly an injured person, so please come right away.

Apprentice 1: “Yes, yes.”
(Exits toward the backstage area.)

Inosuke: “If just one apprentice goes, he might not get through to them.”
“Why don’t we send one of the young clerks instead?”

Chōjirō: “Then I’ll go myself.”
(Starts to stand up.)

Sansaku: “Maybe it’d be better to tell ’em straight out that the Young Master’s been gravely injured, I tell ya.”

Shōhachi: “Right, right.”
“It’s better to honestly say that the injured person is the Young Master.”

Chōjirō: “Got it.”

(Chōjirō hurriedly exits.)

“This has turned into an unbelievable mess, hasn’t it?”

Gosuke: “Why did this happen? It’s like a dream—I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

Mitsuhei: “Can’t figure it out myself—downright strange if you ask me.” He shook his head roughly. “Mighta been some devilry got inta ’im.”

(Sliding open the lower shoji door, Izumiya Yohee, the master of Izumiya—forty-seven or forty-eight years old—hurriedly enters.)

“Hey—what’s happened to my son?”
“An unforeseen incident has occurred—everyone’s simply been left dumbstruck.”

“What on earth happened?”

(Yohee approached Kakutaro’s side and peered at him.)

“Hey, Kakutaro.”
“Has some sudden illness struck you…? Kakutaro…”
“What’s wrong?”

(Kakutaro did not answer and merely groaned.)
(From below, Osaki, Izumiya's wife, hurriedly entered.)

Osaki: “Everyone kept saying how splendid tonight’s sixth act was and watched in admiration when Kakutaro suddenly collapsed midway—it gave me such a fright.”
(To Yohee.) “Where’s he hurt?”

Yohee: “He’s just groaning in pain—I can’t tell where he’s injured.”
(To Shōhachi.) “Hey—what’s happened here?”

Shōhachi: “Uh...”
(He exchanged glances with the others.)

Osaki peered in. “Oh… There’s a terrible amount of blood flowing…”

Yohee said, “This is the stage blood for Kanpei’s seppuku.”

Mitsuhei corrected him, “That’s not stage blood, sir.”

“What?” Yohee blinked.

Gosuke declared, “The Young Master has truly cut his belly.”

Both Yohee and Osaki froze in shock.

“He… cut his belly?” Yohee stammered. “What… What’s the meaning of this? Will no one speak plainly?!”

Wakigoro, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward.

Wakigoro: “This is how it happened. As you all saw when the curtain rose on Act Six—everything went smoothly through the seppuku scene—but after Young Master’s Kanpei thrust the sword into his belly and delivered his wounded-man’s lines… that’s when things turned strange.”

Yohee: “Hmm. After he took on that wounded role, everyone kept praising how his performance had improved even more.”

Wakigoro: “I did think his delivery of the wounded man’s lines and emotional intensity were far more meticulous than during rehearsals. But since the Young Master had always been skilled at acting, I assumed he was simply putting extra effort into it with such a large audience watching. Yet as things grew increasingly strange, we found ourselves utterly perplexed.”

Inosuke: “I was right there watching, and I did think something was off, but I never dreamed it would come to this.”

Sansaku: “Then Kakutaro remained collapsed and wouldn’t get up…”

Wakigoro: (Snatching the words.) “When I looked closely, the Young Master had truly cut his stomach.”
(In a trembling voice.) “I was truly shocked as well.”

Osaki: “But… that sword isn’t a real one, is it…?”

“That’s right, that’s right,” said Yohee. “It’s a silver-paper bamboo sword used in the play—there’s no way he could’ve actually cut his stomach with that!”

“That is truly perplexing,” said Wakigoro.

Yohee turned to the prop rental shop owner. “Is the sword you brought a real blade?” he demanded.

Gosuke flustered. “No—that’s impossible! Why on earth would I bring a real blade? I certainly handed the Young Master a gold-foiled stage sword meant for the performance, but at some point it had turned into a real blade—that’s how this commotion came about.”

“It had turned into a real blade without anyone noticing…”
“Oh... What on earth happened?”

Yohee: “I just can’t figure it out.”

Gosuke: “I truly don’t know, Master.”

Yohee: “You think ‘I don’t know’ settles this?! Since you’re involved either way, you’d better accept it!”

Gosuke: “But Master…”

Yohee: “No—this won’t do! You’re definitely involved!”

Osaki (to Yohee.) “Oh, you... Instead of saying such things, why don’t you hurry and tend to Kakutaro? For some reason, his breathing is gradually becoming strange, isn’t it?”

Yohee: (Noticing.) Hmm... I can’t afford to dawdle any longer.
"Hey—has someone been sent for the doctor?"

Shōhachi: Yes.
"We’ve already sent someone to fetch him twice since earlier."

Osaki: If someone was sent for him, you’d think they’d come right away… but…
"If you can manage it, go call another doctor. If you keep dawdling like this, it’ll be too late!"

Yohee: It doesn’t matter who—call a doctor who can come right away!
"Call three, five, even ten doctors at once!"
"Hurry up!"
"Hurry up!"
"What are you all doing just standing there?!"

Store clerks: “Yes, yes!”
“We’ll go at once.”

(One of the young clerks ran off toward the lower part of the building.)

Yohee: “Ah, had I known it would come to this, I should have canceled this year’s Hatsuuma Festival altogether.”

Osaki: “If only we’d kept the Hatsuuma Festival as just a celebration and refrained from staging a play…”

Yohee: “That too began with Kakutaro taking the lead in making a fuss.”
(Peering at Kakutaro.) “Ah, his condition appears to be gradually worsening.”
“Shōhachi! This time you go find a doctor and bring them back!”

“Yes, yes!”

(As Shōhachi started to rise, a voice guiding someone could be heard from below.)

Chōjirō: “Please come this way.”

Osaki: “Oh—it seems the doctor has arrived at just the right moment.”

Yohee: “Has the doctor come? Have they come?”

(From below, Chōjirō—who had gone earlier—led the way, guiding Hanzo the detective.)

Shōhachi: “Oh—that doesn’t seem to be a doctor.”

Yohee: “Chōjirō.”
“Who did you bring here?”

Chōjirō: “It is the Boss of Mikawa-chō.”
Yohee: “The Boss of Mikawa-chō…”

Hanzo: (Bowing courteously.) Ah.
"I must apologize for intruding during such urgent circumstances."
"I am Hanzo of Mikawa-chō in Kanda - one entrusted with an official jitte through the authorities' grace."

Yohee: (With matching decorum.) Oh.
"So you would be the renowned Boss Hanzo of Mikawa-chō?"
"I am Yohee, master of this Izumiya establishment."

Hanzo: “To tell the truth, I just encountered Mr. Chōjirō from your shop at the corner of this neighborhood. Seeing him panting and rushing about strangely, I asked what happened—he said some terrible mishap occurred during the Hatsuuma play…”
“I was quite startled myself.”
“And how fares the injured party?”

Yohee: (With faint irritation.) “Since that Chōjirō has already blabbered everything out and you know it all now, there’s no sense hiding anything at this point.”
“Through some unforeseen error, my son has ended up like this.”

Hanzo: “I must respectfully decline.”

(Hanzo approached Kakutaro and called out to him.)

Hanzo: “Excuse me, Young Master. Are you in your right mind?”

Yohee: “No matter what we say, he does not respond.”

Hanzo: “I see.”
“This is quite a predicament.”
(Examining Kakutaro’s wound.) “Now then, which one is the sword in question?”

Shōhachi: “This is the one.”
(He showed the blood-stained sword.)

Hanzo silently received the sword, held it up to the candlelight from the brazier to examine it, then surveyed the faces of everyone present.
The people uneasily lowered their eyes.

Hanzo: “Is the person from tonight’s prop rental shop here?”

Gosuke: (Startled.) “Yes, yes.”
“I am the one.”

“Did you bring this real blade?” Hanzo demanded.

“Though you yourself investigated this matter,” Gosuke replied with a bow, “I swear I’ve no memory of bringing such a thing.” He turned desperately to his colleague. “Mitsuhira-san—?”

“I came to apply everyone’s makeup and assist backstage,” Mitsuhira testified. “When inspecting all costumes and props, I confirmed Gosuke-san’s swords bore gold-leaf decoration—not live steel.”

Hanzo: "How had that turned into a real blade without anyone noticing?"
(Hanzo looked around at the group again, deep in thought.)

Mitsuhira: "As I've been saying all along, I can only think some demonic influence was at work."

Hanzo: "It might indeed be demonic influence."
(Gazing at the sword, he thought again.)

(From below, Kakutaro's sister Oteru, sixteen or seventeen years old, and the mid-level servant Ofuyu, seventeen or eighteen years old, entered hurriedly.)

Oteru: “What’s happened to Brother?”

Ofuyu: “I heard Young Master has been injured…”
(Seeing Kakutaro collapsed, she rushes over.) “Young Master!”
“What happened to you?”
(Calling out tearfully.) “Young Master… Young Master…”

Yohee: “Now, now—the Boss is here too.”
“Quiet down! Quiet down!”

Ofuyu: “But... the Young Master has ended up like this...”
Osaki: “Now, now—it’ll be clear later.”

(Osaki restrained her with a glance. Ofuyu was crying.)

Hanzo: “Has the doctor still not arrived yet?”

Chōjirō: “He said he’d come right away, but what could he be doing?”

“Wasn’t it your wording that was off?” Osaki pressed.

“No,” Chōjirō replied. “I made it perfectly clear—‘The Young Master’s gravely injured, come at once!’”

Yohee fidgeted impatiently. “Still too slow. Shōhachi! Quit dawdling here and fetch him properly.”

“Right away,” Shōhachi said.

As Shōhachi began to rise, a clamor of footsteps erupted from below. Spectators—men and women jostling together—crashed into the room like a human tide.

Male A: “Aren’t they saying the Young Master’s been injured?”
The Crowd: (All at once.) “What happened? What happened?”

“Damn it all, damn it all!” Hanzo barked. “You can’t just barge in here wreckin’ the place!”

(Hanzo held the sword in one hand and restrained the crowd with the other. Oteru and Ofuyu were surrounding Kakutaro and crying.)

Male B: But the Young Master seems to have collapsed.

Female A: I wonder what truly happened to him.

(The crowd chattered noisily while trying to get a look.)

Hanzo: Yeah, shut the hell up! “I’ll cut you down! I’ll cut you down!”

When Hanzo brandished the sword he held, the people, startled, retreated backward while still chattering noisily.

— CURTAIN —

Act II

Kanda Mikawachō, Hanzo’s house.

This was the family room, neatly arranged with a well-polished long brazier and a household shrine where an oil lamp glowed. In the garden there was a small pond. On the wall hung a paper inscribed with his subordinates' names, each accompanied by their jitte baton. The adjoining room's front featured a shoji screen, beyond which stood the entrance lattice.

(The morning of the sixth day since Act I.
Kamekichi, one of Hanzo’s subordinates, was sweeping the front entrance.)

From the opposite side, Hanzo’s sister Okume led the way and entered.
Okume was a Tokiwazu instructor living in Myōjin-shita, Kanda—a young woman named Mojibō.
From behind Okume, a woman in her late thirties followed.
(This was the same instructor—a woman named Mojisei from Shitaya—her complexion pale, eyes bloodshot, and clearly in a state of extreme agitation.)

Okume: “Good morning, Mr. Kame.”

Kamekichi: “Oh, Instructor from Myōjin-shita.
You’re early.”

Okume: “It’s not for work.”
(Laughed.)

Kamekichi: Exactly.
"Well, come on in."
(As he spoke, he stared intently at Mojisei.)

Okume: Is my brother home?

Kamekichi: “The landlady has gone out for morning prayers, but the Boss is here. What do you mean? He’s long since eaten his meal, washed his face, and is up.”

Okume: “You’ve got things backward[wards], haven’t you?”
“Well… never mind that.”

Kamekichi: “Come on now—through here!”
(Stepping inside past the lattice door and calling out.) “Hey! Boss!”
“Boss! The instructor from Myōjin-shita’s here!”

Okume: (Looking back at Mojisei.) "Come now, no need for formalities—go right in."

Mojisei: Yes.

(The maid Omino came out from the kitchen and tended to the fire in the hand-warming brazier.)
Okume and Mojisei entered inside and sat down.

From the rear, Hanzo emerged along the encircling veranda.)

Hanzo: “Well, you’re here quite early.”
(Sitting down before the long brazier.) “Hey, Omino.”
“Seems you’ve brought company.”
“Go make some tea.”

Omino: “Yes, yes.”

(Omino placed the hand-warmer before them and retreated to the back.)

Okume: “Sister-in-law remains ever devout, I see.”

Hanzo: “So Kame already told you?”
“Today’s the fifteenth—she’s gone to Fukagawa for morning prayers.”
“Now then—I’ve yet to greet our guest here. Who might you be?”

Mojisei: (Stepping forward.) “I must apologize for my belated introduction. I am Mojisei from Shitaya, and I remain constantly indebted to Ms. Mojibō here.”

Hanzo: “Not at all... If anything, Okume here lacks years of experience, so she must have caused you considerable trouble instead. I earnestly request your continued guidance hereafter.”

Okume: “Now let me come straight to the point. This Mojisei-san has an urgent matter she wishes to entrust to you.”

Hanzo: “Hmm.”
“I see.”

(To Mojisei.) “Hey, you there. I don’t know what brings you here, but whether it’s something I can handle or not—let’s hear you out.”

Mojisei: “Thank you kindly. I must apologize for barging in so suddenly like this, but being at my wit’s end about what to do, I humbly asked Ms. Mojibō—with whom I’ve long been acquainted—to bring me here…”
“You may have heard already—on the evening of the tenth day’s Hatsuuma Festival, there was an amateur play at Izumiya in Kudamachi.”
“That’s when the young master of Izumiya, playing Kanpei in the sixth act, was meant to commit seppuku—but the sword had somehow been swapped for a real one, so he truly cut open his stomach.”

Hanzo: “I know all about it—I was there myself. At Izumiya, they made a huge fuss—called a doctor to stitch the wound, tried every treatment imaginable—but he kept suffering for two days and nights before finally breathing his last. A pitiful end indeed.”

Okume: “About that… Mojisei-san here is eaten up with grief over it.”

Mojisei: (Bursting into tears.) “Boss…”
“Please—take vengeance for him.”

“Vengeance…”
“Whose vengeance am I to take?”

“The vengeance for my son…”

Hanzo: "Huh?"
(Staring intently at her face.) "Not quite following."

Mojisei: (Wildly.) "It’s just too vexing… too vexing…"
(She cried.)

Okume: "Now, don’t cry like that. Explain the reason properly."

Hanzo: "You can’t just keep crying aimlessly—it’s getting us nowhere."
"What exactly happened to your son?"
"Calm down and tell me clearly."

Mojisei: Yes.
(Still trembling, she continued to cry.)

Hanzo: “Hey, Okume.”
“Since you’re the one who brought this master here, you must know how things stand.”
“What became of the master’s son?”

Okume: “Well, truth be told—they say the young master of Izumiya we just mentioned is this master’s son.”

Hanzo: “What? The young master of Izumiya is this master’s son…?!”
“That’s news to me too.”
“So that young master isn’t the current mistress’s child after all?”

“That’s what they say.”

“Hmm.”
“Ah… I see.”
(He considers this.)

(Kamekichi placed bowls on a tray, brought them out, and set them before Okume and Mojisei.)

Kamekichi: “Here is some coarse tea.”

Hanzo: “This matter seems to have gotten tangled.”
“You—go to the back and stay there.”

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir.”

(He goes into the back.)

Hanzo: Hey, Maestro.
“Mojisei-san.”
“The son of Izumiya—the one called Kakutaro—is he truly your child?”

Mojisei: (Raises her face.) “Yes.”
“Kakutaro is my biological son.”
“Though my mere statement may leave you uncomprehending, this concerns events from exactly twenty years ago.”
“When I worked as a Tokiwazu instructor near Nakabashi, the young master of Izumiya would often visit me during his youth. As I naturally came under his care during those days, I gave birth to a boy the following year.”
“That child… was Kakutaro… who has now been lost to us…”

“So Izumiya took in that boy then.”

“That is correct.”
“The mistress of Izumiya heard about this and, since they had no children here, wanted to take him as her own...”
“I didn’t want to let him go but...”
(Her body shook with sobs.) “If he went to them, he could become a proper heir to the shop—I thought it would secure his future too—so I handed him over to Izumiya soon after he was born.”

Hanzo: “So you kept visiting Izumiya afterward too, eh?”

Mojisei: “If people knew a parent like me existed, it would bring public shame and do him no good either. So I accepted a substantial settlement and vowed to sever all ties with my son for life. After that, I moved to Shitaya and have continued this trade as before, but through parental bonds, I’ve never forgotten my own child for even a single day. When I heard rumors of my son growing into a splendid young master, I secretly rejoiced—but then this terrible incident happened, and I felt I might lose my mind.”
(Trembling, she cries again.)

“I see. So there’s such a backstory, eh? I had no idea at all. Even so—the young master’s death being an unexpected calamity—you can’t exactly go blaming anyone for that, I suppose… Or is there some reason behind it all, eh?”

Mojisei: (Firmly.) “Yes.”
“I am certain of it.”
“There can be no mistake—the mistress killed Kakutaro.”

Okume: “I only heard about that this morning myself, but to think the mistress of the main house would do such a thing… Hey, Brother.”

Hanzo: “Enough—don’t meddle from the sidelines. This is an important official matter. From now on, I gotta sit down face-to-face with the maestro here. You too—go to the back and stay there for a little while.”

“Yes.”

(To Mojisei.) “Well then, you too take your sweet time and speak carefully.”

(Okume went into the back.)

Hanzo: “Hey, Maestro. Get over here. Do you have any solid evidence that the mistress of Izumiya killed the Young Master? If she meant to kill him… she wouldn’t have taken him in from the start…”

Mojisei: “Four years after Kakutaro was adopted by Izumiya, the current mistress became pregnant with a girl. A girl named Oteru—she’s sixteen this year. Listen, Boss—if it came down to the mistress’s true feelings, would she cherish Kakutaro more or her own flesh-and-blood daughter? Would she want to pass the family headship to Kakutaro or let Oteru inherit it?” (Growing increasingly agitated.) “No matter how sweet a face she shows daily—human hearts hide demons. Wouldn’t she scheme to eliminate Kakutaro if he became inconvenient? Especially since he’s the master’s secret child—a woman’s jealousy must surely fester in her heart! When I piece this together—whether she did it herself or ordered someone—is it so unreasonable to suspect she exploited the backstage chaos to swap in a real sword?”

Hanzo: Hmm.

Mojisei: (Growing even more agitated.) "Is that merely my baseless suspicion? Boss, what do you think?"
(Presses closer.)

Hanzo: (Quietly.) "Having heard only that much... it's not unreasonable for you to fixate on that conclusion..."

Mojisei: “Unreasonable? Far from it—it’s absolutely true!”
“I’m so vexed—so vexed…”
“I’ve even thought of grabbing a kitchen knife, storming into Izumiya’s shop, and hacking that beast to pieces…”

Hanzo: (Soothingly.) “Now, now—best not to lose your temper like that.”
“Even if you’re so single-mindedly convinced, worldly matters aren’t as easily understood as drawing a single line on blank paper.”
“In any case, I won’t do anything underhanded—leave this matter to me.”

Mojisei: "Then, Boss... are you still not truly going to do what I've said?"

Hanzo: "I'm investigating whether that's true or false. Now now—you really shouldn't carry on like this."

Mojisei: "Will you definitely investigate?"

Hanzo: "Even without your asking, it's my duty. I'll definitely look into it."

Mojisei: "However much he became her child, that mistress who killed Kakutaro won't get off unharmed, will she? The authorities will surely exact vengeance, won't they?"

“That goes without saying,” Hanzo replied.

“But even so,” Mojisei pressed, “when dealing with a household of that stature—wouldn’t they maneuver things discreetly behind closed doors and sweep it all under the rug?”

Hanzo: (Laughs.) That depends on the circumstances.
“No matter how much money they spend or strings they pull, murder rarely gets swept under the rug. So you can rest easy.”

Mojisei: Will it really be alright?

Hanzo: It’ll be fine.

Mojisei: Will you guarantee it?

Hanzo: I’ll take responsibility.

“Then go right this instant!”
“Huh? Where am I supposed to go?”
“Go to Izumiya right now and arrest that mistress!”
Hanzo laughed again. “Haha—can’t have you throwing tantrums like that. Arresting someone ain’t some trifling matter.”
“Is killing a person a trifling matter? Go! Now!”
Mojisei stood up.

Hanzo: “This is getting troublesome.”
(Facing the back.) “Hey, hey, Okume.”
“Come over here for a sec.”

Okume: “Yes, yes.”
(Entering from the back.) “Is your business already finished?”

Hanzo: “This master’s making unreasonable demands and causing me no end of trouble. Just calm her down somehow and take her away.”

Mojisei: “I’m not making unreasonable demands! It’s that you’re not truly acting on what I’m saying, Boss! I’m so vexed—so vexed…” (Collapsed in disarrayed sobbing.)

Okume: “Brother, what are we to do?”

Hanzo: “What’re we s’posed to do? Ain’t no choice but t’ trick ’er inta comin’ along.”
“Master’s in a right state.”

(To Mojisei.) “Hey, Master. No matter how many times I say it, it’s the same. I’ll take full responsibility and avenge your son, so you’d best go home quietly with that understanding.”

(Hanzo signaled to Okume with his eyes and urged her to take [Mojisei] away quickly.)

“Well then, Master,” said Okume. “Since Brother’s given his word, why don’t we go home for today? Please, do as he says. Come now, let’s go.”

Mojisei: “But Boss—somehow it feels like you’re not truly following through on what I’m saying.”
(She breaks down sobbing again.)

Hanzo: “All this will come clear in time if you’ve got patience.”
“Quit making us dance attendance and go home proper-like.”
(To Okume.) “Get her out of here. Now.”

Okume: “Come on, you.”
(Takes Mojisei’s hand.) “Let’s go home.”

(Mojisei stood up silently, weeping.)
(Okume led her out front with a caring manner.)

Hanzo: “Hey, wait a moment.”
“I’m a bit uneasy leaving it to just you alone.”
“I’ll have one of the men escort you.”
“Besides Kamekichi, Kojiro should be around.”
(Facing the second floor.) “Hey, Kojiro.”
“Come here.”

(From the second floor, Hanzo’s subordinate Kojiro appeared.)

Kojiro: “What is it?”

Hanzo: “Escort that Master back with your sister. She seems quite worked up, so be careful.”

Kojiro: “Understood.”
(He immediately came to the front.)

“You’ve had quite the ordeal, haven’t you?”
“This Master’s house was in Shitaya, right? Then it isn’t a long trip. Come on, let’s go.”

“Brother, goodbye.”

(Okume and Kojiro escorted Mojisei away.)
Hanzo stepped out onto the veranda and remained deep in thought while feeding fu to the carp in the pond.
(Kamekichi entered from the back.)

Kamekichi: “Boss.”
“She got herself tangled up in some ridiculous madness and ended up in a right mess.”
(Laughing while tidying up bowls.) “Once the weather starts warming up, you’ll see more of those kinds of people popping up.”

Hanzo: “Even so, it’s not unreasonable to go half-mad.”
“When you think about it, it’s a pitiful thing.”
“I wanna find some way to wrap this up quick for her.”

Kamekichi: I hear Izumiya's son has finally died.
Hanzo: That's exactly why I can't hold back any longer—I've got to strike.

Kamekichi: “It’s strange how the sixth act of *Chūshingura* turned into a real Sixth Act, isn’t it?”

“It’s strange when you think about it,” said Hanzo.

“Do you think what that Master said is true?” asked Kamekichi.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know. But seeing her go half-crazy like that, it doesn’t seem like there’s no basis to it after all. In any case, how about we tug on this thread a bit more?”

Hanzo: “Hmm.”

(Hanzo was still deep in thought.

From the opposite side appears Yamatoya Juemon, a man of forty-five or forty-six years old dressed in the fashion befitting a prominent merchant household head; he peers inside and is courteously ushered in.

Juemon: “Pardon me.”

Kamekichi: “Yeah, yeah.”
(He came out.) “Who’s there?”

Juemon: “Would this be the residence of Boss Hanzo of Mikawa-cho?”
Kamekichi: “That’s correct. From where have you come?”

Juemon: “I am Yamatoya Juemon, who conducts the hardware trade in Shiba no Tsukimachi. I wish to have the honor of meeting the Boss to make a small request—is he currently in residence?”

Kamekichi: “Hold on a moment, please.”
(He returns.) “Boss.”

(Hanzo remained silent, deep in thought.)

Kamekichi: "Hey, Boss."
"You can't just sit there spacing out."
"There's a guest."

Hanzo: (Noticing and turning around.) "You're being loud."
"Who is it?"

Kamekichi: "It's a man named Yamatoya Juemon from the hardware store in Tsukimachi."

Hanzo: "Just show him in here."

Kamekichi (coming to the entrance): "Right this way."

Juemon: "Pardon me."

(Juemon politely bowed and entered inside.)

Kamekichi took out the hand-warming brazier and entered the kitchen, intending to prepare tea.

“I am Hanzo.”

“I am Yamatoya Juemon; I humbly ask that you remember me.”

“Please make yourself comfortable.”

Juemon: "Yes, yes. Thank you very much."

(Juemon fidgeted, struggling to bring up his own business.)
(Omino had not brought the tea.)

Juemon: "Please don’t trouble yourself any further."

(Omino entered the kitchen.)

Juemon: (Still fidgeting.) "Truly, this is a splendid residence."

Hanzo: "With a bunch of layabouts lounging around and an all-male household to boot, the place stays in complete disarray—utterly untidy."

Juemon: "No, it appears quite clean and orderly."

(Juemon looked around while still fidgeting.
Hanzo, wondering what the man had come to say, studied his face.)

“The fine weather continues; it’s truly fortunate,” said Juemon.

Hanzo replied, “This year’s lingering cold hasn’t been severe—quite manageable indeed. The equinox approaches soon. The Hina Market begins its trade. The world grows steadily warmer.”

“Indeed,” Juemon agreed nervously. “Even the sky’s hue turns distinctly spring-like.”

As Juemon kept fidgeting endlessly, Hanzo grew impatient and rapped his kiseru pipe sharply against the hibachi’s edge. Startled by the sudden noise, Juemon looked up at Hanzo’s face.

“Well then, cutting to the chase—what brings you here?”
“Ah, I must apologize for disturbing you during such busy hours—there’s truly no excuse.”
“Spare the formalities. Just tell me your actual business quickly.”

Juemon: “Yes, yes. I’m deeply obliged.”

Hanzo (growing impatient): “This ain’t workin’. Listen here, sir. No need for apologies—just spit it out quick.”

Juemon: “Very well, I shall speak…”
(Finally gathering his resolve.) “Given your profession, Boss, you must already know everything… but Izumiya’s heir in Gusokumachi has met a terrible fate…”
(His eyes welled with tears.)

Hanzo: “Ah. So you’re acquainted with that Izumiya as well?”

Juemon: “In truth, I am the older brother of Izumiya’s wife, Osaki.”

Hanzo: “Hmm, I see.”
(Slightly adjusting his posture.) “That was truly a tragic affair. Did you go there that night?”

Juemon: “I had a cold and was bedridden since daytime, so I did not attend the play that night. However, when I later heard about what happened, I was truly shocked.”

Hanzo nodded. “I understand your position.”

Juemon wrung his hands. “While we can’t undo the poor boy’s misfortune now, there remains the matter of... lingering talk.” He sighed heavily. “People’s tongues wag mercilessly. Certain regular patrons have been whispering unsavory things—it weighs terribly on my sister.”

Hanzo tilted his head with feigned innocence. “Unsavory things?”
“What exactly do they say?”

Juemon stammered, “That’s precisely what troubles us…”
“If these vile rumors spread unchecked, my sister will be utterly wretched.”

Hanzo maintained his feigned ignorance. “So you’re suggesting Izumiya’s mistress has some hand in this affair?”

“Well… yes,” Juemon conceded. “Though it shames me as her brother to speak thus—she’s an honest, gentle soul who cherished Kakutaro like her own flesh and blood. To have this twisted into some common tale of wicked stepmothers…” He trailed off bitterly. “The funeral concluded yesterday. We must now trace how that sword came to be switched that night.”

“Without clarity,” he continued, voice tightening, “my sister risks wrongful accusation. She’s delicate—this anxiety could shatter her mind entirely.” A handkerchief dabbed at moist eyes. “Boss, I implore you—use your authority to uncover how Kakutaro’s blade was replaced. This humiliation… this is why I’ve come begging.”

Hanzo: "As for how the silver-paper sword used onstage turned real—I stormed into the greenroom that very night to investigate, but found not a single clue. Quite the headache."
"The prop shop was grilled from every angle, but they seemed clueless. And with that crowd of townsfolk packed in—no reason real blades would be lying about... How'd they get swapped...?"
(He began speaking, then paused to think.) "Though I've been turning over some thoughts myself about that..."

Juemon (leaning forward): "Do you have any leads?"

Hanzo: "Well…"
"Now then, Mr. Yamatoya."
"This may sound like an odd question—did the Young Master have any other hobbies besides theater?"

“Since he was so devoted to amateur theater acting, he naturally loved plays,” said Juemon. “But he disliked competitive pastimes like board games and drinking—for a young man, he had few vices. I never heard any rumors of him womanizing.”

“So there hadn’t been any bride rumors yet either,” Hanzo pressed.

Juemon (somewhat troubled): “That matter had already been privately arranged, so…”
Hanzo: “Was it settled?”
Juemon: “Yes.”

“In that case, I will tell you everything—the truth is, he became involved with a mid-level servant at Izumiya named Ofuyu…”
“To be fair, since the girl herself was not ill-natured, the parents had privately discussed that it might be better to discreetly arrange foster parents for her and hold a marriage ceremony before the affair became public knowledge—but this unforeseen turn of events occurred, making it simply a matter of both parties’ ill fortune.”

Hanzo: "That Ofuyu—how old is she, and where's she from?"

Juemon: "She turned eighteen this year, from Shinagawa."

Hanzo: "To catch the Young Master's eye, she must be quite the beauty."

Juemon: "Her looks are well above average—we considered her perfectly suitable to marry into Izumiya."

Hanzo nodded. "Right, I see."
(Muttering under his breath) So it was her after all.

Juemon: “Are you acquainted with Ofuyu?”

Hanzo: “The woman I glimpsed backstage during that commotion must’ve been Ofuyu. Found it odd how she went weepin’ all over the Young Master. Though there were other fishy bits too—ah, so that’s how it was.” (Considering it.) “Right then. Sir—I’ll be headin’ to Kudaichō shop now.”

Juemon: “Will you be departing immediately?”

Hanzo: “They say overthinking is as useless as no thinking at all—once you’ve made up your mind to act, settle things quickly before they fester.” He tapped his jitte against his palm. “Dawdle around and every sort of trouble sprouts like weeds.”

Juemon: “Then, have you already formed a conclusion?”

Hanzo: “Well…”
(Laughing.) “It’s still unclear how things will turn out, but the broad strokes seem to be in place.”

Juemon (somewhat uneasily): “In that case… may I ask what conclusion you’ve reached?”

“I’d rather you didn’t ask about that,” said Hanzo. “You can’t know how this play’ll turn out till they raise the curtain. Botch this job, and Hanzo here’ll have to cut his belly open—you follow?”

Juemon: “But… if only to me, in strict confidence… I will not breathe a word of it to anyone.”

Hanzo: “Until the boundary between hell and paradise is settled, you amateurs should just keep quiet and watch.”

Juemon: “Yes.”
(He reluctantly remained silent.)

Hanzo thought. No—not quite.
Maybe it’s better to keep you on my side for now.

“By the way, sir—do you drink sake?”

Juemon: “I wouldn’t say I drink much—just a one-cup lightweight.”

Hanzo: “If you’re going to drink, now’s as good a time as any. Unfortunately, since I don’t have a wife, there’s nothing decent to serve with drinks, but let’s have a cup before heading out.”
(Facing the kitchen.) “Hey, Kame!”

(Kamekichi enters from the kitchen.)

Hanzo: “Any side dish will do—just get the sake ready quickly.”

Kamekichi: “Right away, right away.”
(He turned around and exited.)

Juemon: “Please don’t trouble yourself.”
“I shall take my leave now.”
(He started to rise.) “I must apologize for the intrusion.”

Hanzo: “Ah—so you’re planning to head to Izumiya now, aren’t you?”

Juemon: “Oh.”

Hanzo: “I can’t have you getting there ahead of me. Have a drink with me here, then we’ll go together.”

Juemon (looking troubled): “Yes.”

Hanzo: “I’m not much of a drinker myself either. After all, you’re a fellow one-cup lightweight, but let’s have a little drink today. If we don’t even get a bit red in the face, it won’t liven things up, you see.” (Laughs.)

Juemon: “Yes.”

Hanzo: “Now, do have a drink, sir. Why don’t we two fools boldly storm into Izumiya together?”

Juemon (with an increasingly troubled look): “Yes.”

Hanzo (facing the kitchen): “Hey, hey.”
“What’re you doing?”
“Can’t you hurry it up?”

(Kamekichi carried a sake bottle, and Omino carried a tray as they exited.)

Kamekichi: “You’re in a real hurry, huh.”

“I can’t afford to take it slow,” Hanzo snapped. “It’s about my position! My position!”

“The sake’s still not properly heated,” Kamekichi protested.

“Even cold’s fine—just bring it quick!”

Kamekichi: “Right away, right away.”

Hanzo: “Well, I’ll change into my costume now while I can.”
(Stands up.) “Don’t mind me—keep drinking, sir.”
“Kame, entertain him.”

(Having barked this out, Hanzo disappeared into the back.)
Juemon wore a vaguely discomfited expression as he stared after him.

――Curtain――

Act III

(1)

The hardware store Izumiya in Kyōbashi Gusokumachi stood with its shopfront exposed. At the expansive front of this large establishment with its wide facade, metal goods lay piled in abundance across both the earthen-floored shopfront area and the bare ground stretching to its left and right. Above loomed the white walls of a storehouse, alongside a sizable iron rainwater barrel. Beneath the eaves hung an indigo-dyed noren curtain boldly emblazoned with the Izumiya name. Below these structures stretched an unbroken line of merchant townhouses.

(The same day as Act II, around noon.
In the shop’s counting room, Denbee, the head clerk over forty years old, was flipping through the ledger.
Also present was head clerk Yasuke, thirty-two or thirty-three years old.
Also present was Wakigoro, twenty-four or twenty-five years old.
All of them were arranging ledgers and operating abacuses.
The young clerks Shochiku and Chojirō, with their kimono hems tucked up, headed out to the shopfront and were instructing three apprentices to bundle trivets, fire tongs, and similar items with rope.)

“Come on, come on, hurry up.”

Chojirō: “We must finish tidying up by lunchtime.”

Apprentice 1: “Are we supposed to carry all these into the storehouse?”

Shochiku: “Don’t ask the same thing over and over.”
“As Mr. Chojirō said—until this is all tidied up, we won’t let anyone eat lunch.”

Apprentice 2: “These fire tongs are ridiculously heavy!”

Chojirō: “They’re made of iron—of course they’re heavy. These aren’t straw chopsticks! Hold them properly if you know what’s good for you.”

Apprentice 3: “Giving straw to imps would be one thing, but making imps haul iron rods? This is bloody unbearable.”

“Don’t talk back.”
“If you keep dawdling, I’ll clobber you.”

Apprentice 1: “Ugh, ugh. It’s been nothing but scoldings since morning—one after another.”

Apprentice 2: “If it were Jōkuro, you’d get two barrages at most. But this endless barrage? Can’t bloody take it.”

Apprentice 3: “Jōkuro’d be manageable—but when it’s Kanpei? That’s a whole different problem.”

Chojirō: (Snapping.) “Hey! Keep your voices down!”

Shochiku: “If the master or mistress hears this, we’ll have real trouble on our hands.”

(The apprentices pulled their heads in and covered their mouths.)

Chojirō: “Come on, hurry up, hurry up.”

Shochiku: “Because we closed the shop for four or five days, everyone’s gotten into lazy habits.”

Apprentices: (In unison.) “Come on, come on, hurry up.”

(Shochiku and Chojirō also helped as the apprentices carried the metal goods upward with effort.)

Denbee (watched them go and clicked his tongue.) “Those apprentices never say anything proper. Talking about Jōkuro this and Kanpei that—such rumors are strictly forbidden.”

Yasuke: The master and the mistress have declared they will never watch a *Chūshingura* play again in their lives.

Denbee: I fully understand. I too never wish to see *Chūshingura* again. Even now, remembering that night makes me shudder.
"It’s not just the apprentices."
"You must strictly order the young clerks and maidservants as well—they are never to speak of *Chūshingura* from now on."

Yasuke: “Yes, yes.”

(The three clerks returned to their ledgers and abacuses. From the opposite direction came Hanzo Shichirō, changed into a kimono and wearing straw sandals, appearing to feign drunkenness. Juemon followed closely behind him.)

Juemon: (Apprehensively.) "Um... Boss."
"Are you quite all right?"

Hanzo: “What’s ‘all right’? I walked straight here from Kanda to Kyobashi along this road, didn’t I?”
(He staggered as he spoke.)

Juemon: “Um... This is most perilous, sir.”

Hanzo: “What’s dangerous about it? Nothing ventured, nothing gained! Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Well, that’s not much of a logical argument, is it?”

(Hanzo staggered to the front of the store.)
Juemon, making a troubled face, followed along.

Yasuke: “Oh! It was the Master of Tsukimachi.”

Wakigoro: “Welcome.”

(Hanzo staggered and sat down at the storefront.)
Juemon remained standing.

Juemon: “Everyone here has worked hard. You must all be thoroughly exhausted.”

Denbee (emerging from the accounting office): “Ah, please do come in. We’re all deeply grateful for your kind attentions.”

Juemon: "Are both the master and mistress inside?"

Denbee: "Yes."
"They are all gathered in the back room."
"Please come in."

“Such formalities don’t matter,” Hanzo dismissed. “I’ve got business to attend to.”

“Ah! The Boss of Mikawa-cho,” Denbee recognized with a bow. “We’re indebted for your efforts last night. My deepest apologies for failing to recognize you earlier—such inexcusable rudeness.”

“Every last one here’s a rude bastard,” Hanzo growled. “If I fretted over every little slight, I’d never set foot in this shop. Hey! Someone fetch me water—hot or cold, I don’t care!”

Denbee: “Yes, yes.”
“There, Wakigoro.”

Wakigoro: “Yes, yes.”

(Wakigoro entered the back room while glancing sidelong at Hanzo.)

“Ahh… I’m drunk, I’m drunk. Maybe drinking in broad daylight’s to blame—I’ve gone and gotten myself stupidly lightheaded.”

Juemon: “It’s grown rather warm.”

(Juemon settled himself in the shopfront, drawing a handcloth from his breast fold to dab at his beaded forehead.)

Denbee: “All present seem in excellent humor.
Well now, do come inside regardless.
You too, Boss.”

“You were sittin’ there in the accounts office just now with that big solemn mug on ya, weren’tcha?” Hanzo jeered. “Head Clerk, eh?”

“Yes,” replied Denbee.

“This here’s Denbee—our head clerk,” Juemon interjected.

“Figures—hardware store head clerk’d have himself a proper kettle for a noggin!” Hanzo barked, rapping his knuckles against his own temple. “C’mere—lemme give it a whack, see what kinda clang it makes!”

Denbee: “Huh?”

Hanzo: “Haha, don’t be so startled. It’s a joke, just a joke!”
(To Yasuke.) “You’re a clerk too, eh?”

Yasuke: “Yes.”
“My name is Yasuke.”

Hanzo: “So that’s young Denbee over there, and this here’s Yasuke from the sushi shop? You’re all decked out like some damn theater troupe. That’s why we get disasters like that ruckus the other day. What’s the name of the one who just left?”

Yasuke: “That one is also a clerk named Wakigoro.”

Hanzo: “Hmm. So his name’s Wakigoro.”
“Pretty young for a head clerk, ain’t he?”

Denbee: “He turned twenty-five this year and has held head clerk status since last spring.”

Hanzo: “Besides that one—how many male mutts you keepin’ here?”

Denbee: (Flustered.) “Yes.”

Hanzo: “Hah! Mutt like you wouldn’t get it.”
“Talking ’bout your male servants.”
“How many mutts you got?”

Denbee: Yes.

Hanzo: “This is gettin’ tedious. Answer clearly! It’s not like you’ve got ’em lined up like the Five Hundred Arhats or somethin’. You should know without even thinkin’.”

Juemon: (Unable to bear watching any longer.) “This house has twelve young men and five apprentices in service.”

“I’ve got no business with these white-cloud-headed apprentices,” said Hanzo. “Drag all twelve of those big mutts out here.”

“Yes,” said Juemon.
(He exchanged glances with Denbee.)

“What a damn schoolhouse this is—time to test each mutt’s neck,” Hanzo barked. “Hurry up and haul them over.”

“Yes, yes,” Juemon replied.

(Since there was no other choice, Juemon signaled with his eyes for them to be summoned quickly. Understanding the order, Yasuke stepped out to the front of the store and called out toward the upper quarters.)

“Hey! Hey!”
“Is anyone there?”

Shōhachi: “Yes.”
Shōhachi: “Yes.”

(Shōhachi emerged from the upper quarters and, upon catching sight of Juemon and Hanzo, hastily bowed.)

Yasuke: “Since there’s some business, call all the young men here for me.”

Shōhachi: “Yes, yes.”
(He turned around and exited.)

Hanzo: “What’s that one’s name?”

Denbee: “Shōhachi is his name.”

“This house should have a tidy mid-level servant called Ofuyu-san,” said Hanzo. “What’s become of her?”

“Ofuyu reported feeling unwell since last night and is lying down in the four-and-a-half mat room in the back.”

“So that four-and-a-half mat room’s the maids’ quarters, eh?”

“Since the maids’ quarters are rather cramped, we’ve had her lie down in the small parlor in the back under the mistress’s instructions.”

“Hmm. I see.” (Nods.) “By the way, where’s that hot water and cold water I asked for earlier? Still ain’t brought ’em yet? That damn clerk—hasn’t he run off or something?”

“You must be joking…”
“But this is taking too long.”
(To Yasuke.) “Go check on what’s keeping Wakigoro.”

Yasuke: “Yes, yes.”

As Yasuke stood to enter the back, he nearly collided with Wakigoro emerging with a tray of teacups.

Yasuke: “Whoa! That was a close call! The boss has been waiting impatiently.”

Wakigoro: “My apologies for the delay.”
(He brought the tray before Hanzo.)

Hanzo: “Made me wait damn long, didn’t ya? Not like I told you to haul water from Tamagawa River!”

Wakigoro: “The kitchen kettle had gone cold, so I had to reboil it.”

Hanzo: (Taking a teacup.) “Hey, can I drink this, eh?”

Wakigoro: Huh?

Hanzo: “You ain’t slipped poison in here or nothin’, have ya?”

Wakigoro: “What a wicked thing to suggest…”

Hanzo: “Hahahahaha!”
(He drank the tea.)

(From the upper quarters, Shōhachi and Chōjirō led six young clerks of Izumiya into the room.)
(Another four clerks entered from the rear.)

Juemon: “Well? Is everyone here?”

Denbee (surveying the room): “Yes. Now everyone has gathered.”

Hanzo: “Eight mutts over here, four over there…” (His eyes swept across them.) “Hmm. So all the curs are present and accounted for, eh?”

(The young clerks exchanged startled glances.)

Hanzo: “What’s this? What’s this? Quit making those toad faces like you’ve been force-fed grease, every last one of you! Listen here, Master Juemon.”
“They say Kuda-cho’s pride lies in Lord Kiyomasa-sama and Izumiya—esteemed households known across Edo—but if I may speak plainly, your oversight appears woefully lax.”
“Am I wrong?”
“You’re serving three meals a day to these rotten bastards who’d murder their master, paying annual wages to keep ’em fat and happy—is that how you run this house?”

(The people were startled and exchanged glances once more.)

Juemon (flustered): "Oh, please... I beg you to keep your voice down. This is the front of our shop; it faces a public thoroughfare."

Hanzo: "I know that already." (Sneering.) "Who cares if anyone hears? This household’s bound to have an arrest procession coming through anyway."

Juemon: “Excuse me, Boss.”

Hanzo: “Enough already—quit yapping.”
(Glaring around at the group.) “Hey, you lot.”
“Listen up.”
(He removed his haori.) “The lot of you are nothing but insolent scoundrels.”
“It’s no wonder I’ve been calling you mutts all along.”
“Do you think it’s permissible to keep serving in the same shop and sharing meals from the same pot while pretending not to notice a comrade who’s committed the grave crime of murdering your master?”
“Enough with the innocent act!”
“The fact that there’s one mangy cur of a master-killing crucifixion bastard mixed in among you lot—I’ve got it all figured out.”
“The real mistake was keeping some mangy cur around—one twisted brat who’d kill your precious master over petty squabbles—and acting like it was nothing! The master of this house must be a blind fool!”
“Hey now, Master of Yamatoya.”
“Since your eyes seem a bit clouded, how about going to the storeroom and washing them two or three times with lye water?”

Juemon: “Ah—no matter how harshly I’m rebuked, I’ll not utter a word of protest. But Boss, I beg you—please lower your voice…”

Hanzo: “Might be a pity for you, but it’s my good fortune. Snagging a master-killing criminal right here makes a fine offering for the Hatchōbori magistrate.” (He roared again.) “Now then! You mutts! Keep those innocent faces on all you like—I already know whose guts are clean and whose are rotten. If you think I’m as sightless as your master there, you’re aiming at shadows. When they twist your arms behind your backs someday, don’t go bellyaching about resenting me—this ain’t some tearjerker jōruri where you whine over who ties the ropes. No lies here.” (He drew the jitte from his breast.) “Take a good look and brace yourselves!”

(Juemon, as though unable to endure it any longer, came to Hanzo’s side.)

Juemon: “Excuse me, Boss. Since you seem rather intoxicated from earlier, perhaps you might go to the back and rest awhile? If you keep speaking so loudly at the shopfront, it will gravely trouble our standing in society. In any case, please come this way. Hey, Wakigoro. Escort the Boss to the rear room.”

Wakigoro: Yes, yes.
(Timidly stepping forward.) “Um... Please, this way to the back...”
“I will humbly guide you.”

(When Wakigoro tried to take Hanzo’s hand, Hanzo suddenly slapped him across the cheek.)

Hanzo: Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?
“I don’t need help from scum like you lot bound for crucifixion!”
“Hey, hey! Why the hell are you glaring at my face like that?”
“You’re all allies of master-killers—so what if I called you crucifixion bastards?”
“You lot already know this.”
(He stared fixedly at Wakigoro’s face.) “Those bastards bound for crucifixion get paraded all over Edo on a bareback horse.”
“After that, at Suzugamori or Kozukappara, when they’re tied up high on a tree, the spearmen on both sides thrust their long spears and shove them right in front of the condemned’s eyes while jeering with taunting shouts.”
“That’s called the display spears—mark my words.”
“Once the display spears are done, this time they truly thrust up again and again from under the right and left armpits—thud after thud.”

(Having been subjected to this horrifying explanation of punishment, the people held their breath and cowered as though unable to bear listening.)
(Juemon also frowned, and Wakigoro turned pale and fell silent.)

Hanzo: “Well then—now that I’ve spelled it all out, even you slow-blooded mutts must’ve mostly caught on.”
Having blathered on mindlessly since earlier, he now felt completely spent.
Even Okuyama’s Mamezō could earn fifty or sixty coppers yammering this much.
What absolute nonsense.
“My apologies for clogging up your shopfront—I’ll be borrowing this spot to rest awhile.”

(Hanzo plopped down right there and lay sprawled out.)
(The people let out a sigh of relief and exchanged glances once more.)

Denbee (in a low voice): "What should we do now?"

Juemon (frowning): "I’ve really brought along a troublesome person."
"Well, there’s nothing to be done. We’ll have to leave him as he is for now."
"If he were sober, he wouldn’t act like this—but since he’s drunk, there’s no way to handle him."

Yasuke (also in a low voice): “And he’s not like other people, you know.”

Juemon: “That’s right, that’s right.”
“That’s precisely why it’s even more troublesome to handle.”
“For now, leave him like this until he sobers up.”
“Everyone, you have no further business here. Without concerning yourselves with this place, each of you attend to your respective tasks.”

Everyone: “Yes, yes.”

(Shōhachi, Chōjirō, and the rest of the young clerks all split off and departed.)
Denbee returned to the accounts office, and Yasuke fetched the ledger and abacus.

Juemon: “Well then, I suppose I’ll go to the back and meet with the master and mistress.”
“I’ve brought along such an outrageous person and ended up causing trouble for everyone.”
“I didn’t have any ill intent in this, so please forgive me.”

Denbee: “You have my deepest apologies.”

(Juemon glanced back at the sleeping Hanzo, took the *haori* that had been left there, draped it over him, and then proceeded into the back.)
Wakigoro quietly went to take the tea tray and teacup by Hanzo’s pillow, gazed intently at his sleeping face, and eventually headed quietly to the back.
(Hanzo slightly raised himself and watched the retreating figure.)

Denbee (noticing.) “Oh, Boss.”
“Are you awake, Boss?”

(Hanzo wordlessly plopped back down.)
The nine o’clock bell tolled.

Yasuke: “It’s already nine in Ishimachi?”

Denbee: “With all the chaos since morning, noon felt absurdly early.”

(From below, Mojisei rushed out in a disheveled state, pursued by Okume and Kojiro.)

Okume: “Oh, come on—wait a moment!”

Kojiro: “This ain’t no joke! You try anything funny… There’s no tellin’ how bad the Boss’ll skin us alive!”

Mojisei: “No—just let me go!”

(Mojisei shoved the two aside with wild fury and stormed to the shopfront.)

Mojisei (screaming): “Let me see the mistress!”

Yasuke (startled): “You want to meet the mistress?”
“And who are you...?”

Mojisei (impatiently): “If you let me meet her, you’ll understand! So hurry up and call her here!”

(Yasuke gazed at the other’s face amidst the smoke.)
Denbee noticed and exited the accounts office.

Denbee (in a low voice): “You’re the Master of Shitaya, aren’t you?”

Mojisei: “That’s right. Hurry up and call the mistress here!”

Denbee: “What business do you have?”

Mojisei: “You’re so exasperating! I’m telling you to let me meet her no matter what, but…”

(Denbee was also at a loss.
Okume approached and pulled Mojisei’s sleeve.)

Okume: “Master.
I beg you—please go back quietly.
Otherwise, we’ll be in trouble.”

“I’m begging you here too—just let me settle this how I need to!” Mojisei pressed. “Now hurry up and bring her out…!”

“But we can’t just arrange a meeting without good reason,” Denbee countered. “We’ve our own pressing matters to handle here…”

“So you’re dead set against it?” she snapped. “Then I’ll force my way through—don’t you dare block me! Let me make this clear—I came to take vengeance for Kakutaro!”

Mojisei pulled a paper-wrapped razor from her obi, gripped it in a reverse hand, and tried to charge into the shop—prompting Denbee and Yasuke to scramble about in panic.
(Okume and Kojiro also rushed to restrain her in shock.)

“My, you there—”
“Unthinkable!”
“What do you intend to do with that thing?”

Kojiro: “This is insane! Blades everywhere—it’s dangerous! Stop her! Stop her!”

Mojisei: “Let me go!”

Kojiro: “Stop her! Stop her!”

(Mojisei howled madly and tried to charge into the shop. Okume and Kojiro desperately struggled to pull her back, but as she wildly brandished her razor, they became overwhelmed and released their grip—letting Mojisei dash inside.)
Denbee and Yasuke scrambled backward in panic.
At that moment, Hanzo—who had been sleeping—suddenly leaped up, grabbed his haori, threw it over Mojisei’s head from above, and pinned her down.

Hanzo (to Okume and others): “I told you plain enough—why’d you bring her back here?”

Okume: “But Brother… She went home once then came rushing right out again.”

Kojiro: “She’s half-mad—no dealing with her!”

(As Mojisei tried to shove off the haori and leap up, Hanzo pinned her down again.)

Hanzo: “Right—this one’s past managing.
“Hey.
“Head Clerk.
“Go fetch Yamatoya’s master for me.”

(Mojisei writhed, and Hanzo pinned her down.)

Act II

The small tatami room at the rear of Izumiya.
In the upper part of the front area stood a three-foot hanging alcove; in the flower vase, a single branch of white camellia was arranged.
Next came a sliding door leading to the back.
In the upper part of the garden stood a lattice fence and a peach tree with swelling buds.
In the lower part [of the garden] stood a small Inari shrine, and beside it, fatsia leaves grew thickly.

Folding screens had been arranged around the tatami room, where Ofuyu, the mid-level servant, sat up in bed with a haggard face and took her medicine. At her pillow side sat Izumiya’s wife Osaki, her expression equally shadowed.

“How are you?” Osaki asked. “Still unwell?”

“My head hasn’t stopped aching since last night,” Ofuyu replied.

“That’s only natural.” Osaki’s voice thickened. “With both mind and body exhausted—even I feel drained, as though my bones and soul have been hollowed out. How much more must you…” Her words trailed off as tears pooled in her eyes. “I understand.”

(Ofuyu bursts into loud sobs.)

Osaki: “Oh, crying so much will be bad for your health. Enough—since it’s all fate’s doing—though we can’t accept it ourselves, we’re forcing ourselves to let go… So you must do the same.”

Ofuyu: “I would rather just die.”
(She sobbed while sniffling.)

Osaki: “Then that wouldn’t bring peace to his spirit either. Even if Kakutaro is no longer in this world—since I once thought of you as this household’s bride—I’ll never treat you as a stranger. I mean to look after you always, so don’t lose heart and recover quickly. The master worries endlessly too.”

Ofuyu: “This is far too great an honor for a servant like myself. Even without me adding to the hardships in this already burdened place, I know my causing more trouble would be inexcusable, but…” (She cried again.) “No matter how I try to resign myself, it just won’t take. Even lying here like this, the Young Master’s face and figure keep flitting before my eyes…”

Osaki: “It’s the same for us…” (Wiping her eyes.) “The words ‘I’ve given up’ barely leave my lips when reluctance spills out. Complaints spill out. How truly pitiful it all is.”

Ofuyu: "Madam."
"I would still be better off dead."
(She breaks down into loud sobs.)

Osaki (wiping her eyes): "Ah, let's stop now. While I meant to console you, it's no use if I end up crying too. For pity's sake, at least you must keep yourself healthy. You mustn't think of dying, even if you forget everything else. Do you understand?"

Ofuyu: "Yes." (She is crying.)

Osaki: "I'll send a maid over later, so don't hesitate to ask for anything you need."

Ofuyu: "Thank you very much."

Osaki gazed at her compassionately. "Do you understand? You mustn't cry anymore. The wind is blowing through - let's close this shoji halfway."

She closed the veranda's shoji halfway and retreated inside. Ofuyu took her medicine alone while crying. From the garden entrance, Wakigoro sneaked out, looking around before and after as he approached the veranda.

Wakigoro (softly): Ofuyu-san. Ofuyu-san.

Ofuyu: “Who’s there?”
“Is that you, Wakigoro-san?”

Wakigoro (still in a low voice): “No one’s here, huh?”

Ofuyu: “Madam came out earlier, but… There’s no one here now.”

(Wakigoro sneaked up onto the veranda, quietly slid open the shoji, and peered inside.)

Wakigoro: “Is your head still heavy, huh?”

Ofuyu: “Thank you for coming to visit me so often despite your busy schedule.”

Wakigoro: “The master and mistress are worried too, so you’ve got to get better quick, huh?”

Ofuyu: “Yes…”

(Ofuyu continues to sob quietly.)
Wakigoro silently gazed at her pitiful figure for a while, then stepped down into the garden.

Wakigoro: “Well then.
“Be sure to take good care of yourself.”

Ofuyu: “Yes…”
(Through tears.) “I’ll never forget your kindness.”

(Wakigoro started to leave but hesitated, then turned back resolutely to the veranda.)
At this moment, Hanzo stealthily revealed himself from the shade of the fatsia plant below, observed Wakigoro and Ofuyu’s exchange, then hid once more.

Wakigoro (looking back and forth): “Ofuyu-san… Ofuyu-san.”

Ofuyu: “Huh.”
“Is something wrong?”

Wakigoro (sitting down on the veranda): “I thought I’d just say nothing at all… but that still doesn’t sit right with me.”
(His voice grew hoarse.) “I’ll gather my courage and confess everything to you here and now, so please listen calmly.”
“Do you understand?”
“Don’t be startled—just listen, okay?”
“Do you understand?”

Ofuyu (suspiciously): “What could you possibly have to say that requires such insistence?”

Wakigoro: “What do you mean by ‘something’…?”
(Gradually getting excited.) “There—that’s exactly why I’m telling you not to be startled and just listen!”
“Here, Ofuyu-san.”
(In a trembling voice.) “What do you think caused the Young Master’s death?”

Ofuyu: “The sword used on stage as Kanpei’s had been swapped with a real one before anyone noticed…”
“You know that perfectly well yourself, don’t you?”

“That... I know as well,” Wakigoro said. “More than anyone—more than him—I’m the one who knows best.”

“You were on stage with the Young Master playing Senzaki Yogoro,” Ofuyu countered.

“No—that’s not it.” His voice tightened. “There was someone who swapped Kanpei’s sword back then. That’s why the Young Master ended up like this.” A ragged breath. “The bastard who killed him... I know who it was.”

“Wh-what? The one who swapped swords and killed the Young Master... that bastard...” Ofuyu’s words trembled. “Do you truly know this for certain?”

Wakigoro (painfully): "Ugh... I know."
"I know."
"I mean to tell you this."

Ofuyu (involuntarily crawls out from her sickbed): "You... You truly..."

“Ugh… I know.”
“Th-then… th-that… w-who is it?”
“Huh.”
“Please hurry and tell me!”

(Edged closer.)

Wakigoro placed hands on the veranda. “Ofuyu-san… Forgive me.”

Ofuyu: “Eh.”

Wakigoro: “The master-killing villain is me.”
“This Wakigoro.”

(Ofuyu instinctively moves to cling to Wakigoro but hesitates, then collapses in a flood of tears.)
Startled by the sound, Wakigoro scans his surroundings.

Wakigoro: “You have every right to resent me.”
“No matter how much you hate me, there’s no helping it.”
“I’ve steeled myself for that.”
“But Ofuyu-san—”
“For mercy’s sake—just hear me out.”
“Now that we’re here... I’ll confess everything. That terrible scheme I devised...”
(panting) “It was all because I burned for you.”

(Ofuyu looks up sharply.)

Wakigoro: “I’d never spoken it aloud before—but I’ve loved you since long ago.”
“I’d resolved—alone—that I must make you my wife without fail.”
“Then you and the Young Master began...”
“And soon... you’d be wedded openly...”
“Ah—what torment that was!”
“Ofuyu-san—you must understand.”
“Even now—even now—I bear you no hatred.”
(Heaving breaths) “Only this—this mindless loathing for him.”
“Though he was my master... I could endure no more...”
“Perhaps I’d gone mad.”
“Seizing on the Hatsuuma play—I bought a blade from Hikagecho... swapped it backstage before curtain-rise... All went smooth...”
“Yet when he—as Kanpei—slashed his belly... when they carried his bloodied form backstage...”
“Cold water seemed to drench my soul—I shook like a leaf.”

"And during those two days and two nights until the Young Master drew his last breath, how terrified I was."
"Every time I went to the Young Master’s bedside, I trembled uncontrollably."

Ofuyu (in a voice shaking with resentment): "Wakigoro."
"What sort of person are you?"
"This is too cruel! Too cruel!"
(She weeps.)

Wakigoro: “Now, it’s entirely understandable you’re furious, but bear with me a little longer and listen. If my rival—the Young Master—were gone, sooner or later you’d become mine. No—I’d make you mine without fail…. When I thought of that—half joy, half torment—that’s how I’ve lived until now….” (Sighing.) “Ah… It’s too late now. That detective—true to his trade—has finally set his sights on me.”

Ofuyu: “Has the detective already come to the store?”

Wakigoro: “He came with Mr. Yamatoya, acted drunk, shouted that the master’s killer was here in this store, then even gave a pointed lecture about crucifixion—I couldn’t stand being there another moment.”
(Glancing around fearfully.) “So I’ve resolved myself.”
“I’ll be bound with ropes and dragged from this store, thrown into jail, paraded through the streets, then crucified.”
“Before enduring such horrors, I mean to die with single-minded resolve.”

Ofuyu: “Eh.”

Wakigoro: “So from your view, I’m surely the murderer who killed the Young Master. But try to understand my feelings a little—please think me pitiful.”
“It was entirely my fault that I killed the Young Master.”
“See—I press my hands to the floor and beg your forgiveness again and again…”
“Though I don’t know if my selfish excuses matter…”
(tearfully.) “After I die… at least burn one stick of incense for me.”
“That’s my final wish in this life.”

As Ofuyu listened through her tears, Wakigoro took a purse from his pocket.

Wakigoro: “Here are the wages I’ve saved—three ryo and two bu. I’ll leave all of this in your care…”

Ofuyu: “No, I can’t possibly accept something like that.”

Wakigoro: “Now, don’t say that—just take it.”
Ofuyu: “But... something like this...”
Wakigoro: “I’ll never cause any trouble for you, so just take it, I’m telling you…”
Ofuyu: “If such a thing were to become known…”
Wakigoro: “If you just stay quiet so no one finds out, that’s all you need to do.”

(As they struggled over the purse—pushing it back and forth—Hanzo emerged from behind the yatsude plant and cleared his throat.)
When Wakigoro turned around in surprise, Hanzo hid once more.
Wakigoro—now thoroughly unsettled—forcibly thrust the purse at Ofuyu before scrambling away up the path.)

Ofuyu (holding the purse, steps out onto the veranda.) “Ah—wait! Wakigoro!”
“Wakigoro.”
“Please take this with you.”
“Wakigoro.”

(As they struggled over the purse, pushing it back and forth, Hanzo emerged from behind the yatsude plant and cleared his throat again.)
Noticing this, Ofuyu exchanged glances with Hanzo and inadvertently dropped the purse she was holding onto the veranda with a thud.
(From behind the shrine, Juemon appeared.)

Juemon: “Boss.”
“Your scheme worked perfectly.”

Hanzo: “Just as we arranged when we consulted along the way—I finally made that bastard destroy himself.”

Juemon: “As expected of your skill—I’m truly impressed.”
“Here, Ofuyu.”
“This Boss tracked down Kakutaro’s killer and dealt with him for us.”
“You should thank him properly.”

Ofuyu: "Yes."
"Thank you very much."

Juemon: "Now I can rest easy."
"Oh, no—thank you."

Ofuyu: "Thank you very much."

(The two bowed to Hanzo from either side, offering their thanks.)
(Voices of two or three people were heard from upstage.)

Voices: "He’s thrown himself in! He’s thrown himself in!"

Hanzo: "Did he already do it?"
"What a hasty bastard."
(Facing upstage.) "But you can’t just haul him up carelessly."
"Wait, wait!"

(With this, the stage becomes completely dark.)

(III)

When the stage brightened again, the front was a black curtain.

(Hanzo appears outside the curtain.)

Hanzo: “Everyone. Wakigoro threw himself into the back well and died. It would’ve been simple enough for me to arrest him, but if a condemned criminal being paraded through town had emerged from here, it would’ve stained Izumiya’s age-old shop curtain and naturally hampered their future business. Moreover, considering even Wakigoro himself would prefer decisive self-destruction over enduring the heavy punishments of public procession or crucifixion, I feigned drunkenness and deliberately spoke those words to intimidate him. Another thing—since I didn’t exactly hold evidence solid enough to make him confess outright, I fumbled blindly while recklessly testing those accusations… If he’d truly had no memory of the deed, he’d have dismissed it like everyone else; but if guilty, he couldn’t stay idle. This gamble struck true, and he finally steeled his resolve.”

“Next, regarding Mojisei of Tokiwazu—that woman’s outcome unfolded as you witnessed. Though she caused everyone considerable trouble, once she fully realized it was her own misunderstanding, she’s finally settled down. So please set your minds at ease.”

“There’s one more thing I wish to say. As this encounter may lead to us crossing paths on stage again from time to time, I ask that you remember the face of Hanzo of Mikawacho and show me your kind favor.”

“Well then, I’ll take my leave for tonight.”

(Hanzo nodded and exited.)

—Curtain—

(Okamoto Kido Gekisen Shū 7, Seiashobō, 59-6)