III
Those who believe that Kabuki has no love scenes might be enlightened after witnessing some of the tender passages in plays that have pleased audiences for two centuries, and are yet able to hold the attention, as modern pieces scarcely ever do.
Miuranosuke, the brave young hero, comes home wounded from the battle because he has heard his mother is ill. He serves the great Lord Yoriye, of Sakamoto Castle, on Lake Biwa, who has declared war upon Hojo Tokimasa of Kamakura. Toki-hime, his betrothed, is the daughter of Tokimasa, and Miuranosuke finds that his future wife is the daughter of the sworn enemy, and that she is taking care of his mother in a poor country cottage, where they have taken shelter.
Toki-hime in her long scarlet robe, into which is woven a pattern of golden winding water and flowers, and wearing a silver head-dress that forms a frame to her face—dainty, appealing, the very spirit of youth and devotion,—shines forth in her splendour, the shabby cottage interior as a setting.
Miuranosuke makes a young warrior to suit the taste of the most carping of critics. Staggering through the audience, clad in sky-blue brocade and scarlet armour, the heads of the people in the boxes on a level with the hanamichi turn to see his entrance. He reaches the gate of the cottage and then sinks down from exhaustion. Toki-hime quickly restores him, and they express their devotion for each other in postures that instead of tearing the affections to tatters, as is the way with realism, suggest the depth of their feeling, the minstrel singing and describing, and the samisen player beating the rhythms.
The hero’s aged mother, lying ill in bed, opens the shoji of her sick-room only to upbraid him for leaving the battle; she threatens to sever their relationship as mother and son unless he returns.
Then follows one of the best scenes in the province of onnagata acting. Toki-hime tries to aid Miuranosuke to attire himself in his armour, and her grace and delicacy are emphasised by the efforts she makes to carry the heavy helmet, which at last she is obliged to drag across the floor of the cottage.
Later Toki-hime is seen standing alone in quiet meditation by a dim oil light. Here is the eternal conflict in the female breast in all ages and all countries, the struggle between love and duty. Will she kill Miuranosuke’s mother as her father has commanded, giving her a sword for this express purpose, or will she be faithful to her love?
In the midst of her quandary a queer personage enters, dressed in the unmistakable costume of the Kabuki comedian: a bright yellow kimono with broad black stripes running from shoulder to shoulder, short baggy trousers made of horizontal stripes of brown and fawn, and the sleeves bound with broad bands of scarlet. To the overtures of the fool she turns a deaf ear.
When Toki-hime is just about to kill herself as the only way out of the difficulties that beset her, Miuranosuke stops her and says his doubts regarding her loyalty to him are at an end. He begs her to live a little longer in order to dispatch her father, his enemy, and as he intends to die in battle, pleads with her to join him in death, when they can be married in another world.
The playwright thus strains the love-loyalty and filial piety themes to the utmost.
Rather poor consolation for Toki-hime this, but her love for him conquers and she consents. Then the spies come and say that they have overheard all, and the arch-spy robed in black hastens on his way to inform her father, when there issues out of the well in the garden a deadly spear-thrust, and he is killed on the spot. An imposing personage clambers out of the well. He is Sasaki, staunch supporter of Miuranosuke, who has been masquerading as the comedian, and in that capacity tested Toki-hime’s fidelity.
There is a sound of battle, the clash of cymbals and the thunder of big drums, Miuranosuke and Sasaki must away to the fray. Toki-hime, winsome and wistful, watches their departure.
Word comes to Toki-hime at Kamakura that Miuranosuke has died on the battlefield. She is overwhelmed by sorrow. One day she gives Sasaki the opportunity to strike down her father, but when he examines the head that he has taken as a trophy, he finds to his bitter regret it is that of Toki-hime.
Usuyuki, or Thin-Snow, and her lover, Sonobei Sayemon, are the youthful figures in a love idyll of the Doll-theatre of which Kabuki players never seem to tire.
They meet in cherry-blossom time at Kiyomizu, that fine old Buddhist temple built up on the steep hillside commanding a view of Kyoto nestling in its wide valley. This is always an appropriate play for the cherry season, and these flowers are used as a pendent curtain across the stage, while trees in full bloom are placed on either side, and in the centre there is an ornate red-lacquered temple structure.
In addition to its romance, the play of Usuyuki and Sayemon is one of the most famous sword pieces of the Japanese stage. Sayemon presents the gift of a sword to the temple, but an evil swordsmith damages it in order that Sayemon may be punished, jealousy prompting the villain to come between the lovers.
Usuyuki and Sayemon have just been married, when messengers arrive bearing accusations against Sayemon on account of the tampered sword. The affectionate, innocent young couple are parted. Usuyuki is taken into the custody of her husband’s father, and Sayemon entrusted to the keeping of his wife’s father.
Love laughs at barriers, however, and they secretly escape together. The fathers commit suicide that their children may be cleared of all doubts and suspicions, and Usuyuki and her husband return to enjoy an uninterrupted life of peace and happiness.
Miyuki and Asojiro are household names in Japan, the chief figures in a romance that started one summer evening in Kyoto, when at a fire-fly festival on the river their boats came together, and they fell in love at first sight, exchanging fans on which they had written extemporaneous verse. They plighted their troth, but stern samurai business kept Asojiro in another part of the country, and Miyuki, neglected and forlorn, wept so much that she became blind, and started to wander about the country with her nurse trying to find her faithless lover.
The finest scene is that in which the blind girl plays the koto, or long harp-like instrument, at an inn where her lover is stopping. Asojiro and an elderly samurai are on a special mission, and his companion thinks only of his duty, and allows for no delinquency or soft-heartedness on the part of Asojiro, who is overcome when he finds the blind koto player, brought in by the innkeeper to amuse them, is no other than his own Miyuki.
All he can do is to give her some remembrance and a sum of money which he leaves with the innkeeper. By these tokens Miyuki knows that she has been in the presence of Asojiro, and half distracted she runs to the river to overtake her fleeing lover, who has been obliged by his taskmaster of a travelling companion to hasten on his way. The river has risen, and the ferrymen will not take any more passengers across. There are many wet eyes in the audience, for the parting of young lovers never fails to appeal to the tender-hearted in all countries the sun shines upon.
The playwright knew that his audience would be disappointed were the lovers never to meet again, and the sympathetic innkeeper makes a gash in his body in order that he may provide the blind maid with a liberal portion of his blood, whereby her eyesight is miraculously restored. Later she is united with Asojiro, and all ends well.
No mention of the lovers in Japanese plays would be complete without the names of Yayegaki-hime and Katsuyori, characters in a Doll-theatre jidaimono by Chikamatsu Hanji, called Nijushiko (lit., Twenty-four Filial Persons), after a book of Chinese tales regarding the filial deeds of this exact number of personages.
This long play relates the rivalry between the heads of two clans, which is settled by the betrothal of the daughter of one great daimyo to the son of the other. But Yayegaki-hime’s father has in his keeping a much-treasured helmet belonging to Katsuyori’s family, and the young man dressed as a gardener secretly visits the house of his betrothed that he may secure the helmet.
Yayegaki-hime soon penetrates his disguise and in spite of his cold demeanour she wears her heart on her sleeve. They are in the midst of an exchange of affection when the eavesdropping father breaks in and spoils it all. He hands Katsuyori a letter enclosed in a lacquered box with the request that it be delivered at once. Then two villainous retainers are sent after, with intent to waylay and kill Katsuyori.
Meanwhile the faithful heroine decides to steal the helmet and carry it to Katsuyori. Fox fires are seen burning in the garden, and aided by the magic of foxes she becomes possessed of supernatural strength, and bearing the helmet aloft steals out of the house. Servants rushing in to prevent her escape are overcome by enchantment, and she flees along the hanamichi, the minstrel explaining that she traces her way across frozen Lake Suwa by the footmarks the accommodating and sympathetic foxes have left in the snow to guide her to her lover.