Rikiya. Please, mother. Is father asleep? Pray, give him this.
Recitative. From their actions it is plain that the parents and son understand one another; and when Rikiya hands a wooden pillow, Yuranosuke appears to be in a dream.
Oishi. Will you all now go home?
Jesters and Waitresses. Yes, yes, madam. Pray, present compliments to Master. And come sometimes, Young Master.
Recitative. They make signs with their eyes, and they go home with abashed looks. When they have gone beyond hearing, Yuranosuke raises his head.
Yuranosuke. Rikiya, see this snow that I rolled when I pretended to amuse myself; it was done with an object in view. What do you make of it?
Rikiya. Snow, sir, is scattered when it falls by the least wind; and yet, though it is light, it becomes, when it is pressed into a ball, as you see there, as hard as a stone, for rocks are split by snow that is blown down from a peak. Weighty is loyalty. But neither that weighty loyalty nor this ball of snow must be kept too long. Is that your meaning, sir?
Yuranosuke. No, no. Yuranosuke, his son, Hara Goemon, and the rest of the forty-seven confederates are all masterless and live in the shade. Snow, too, will not melt if it is kept in the shade; and it warns us against haste. It is in the sun here, take it into the yard behind the house. When they collected fireflies or piled snow[2] for light to read by, it showed the patience of scholars. Let the servant open the garden-gate from inside. I will write the letter to Sakai; when the messenger comes, let me know.
Recitative. The servant opens the garden-gate; the snow is rolled in and the gate is shut. The sliding-door is opened and they all go in.
She who now comes to this retreat in Yamashina, as far removed from the world as the recesses of the heart, is Tonase, the wife of Kakogawa Honzo Yukikuni. She makes the palanquin which has come with her wait near her; and alone she girds two swords and, strict in deportment, she calls at the door of the retreat.