Tonase. Can you ask what I am going to do? As you say, your father wishes to have the marriage ceremony performed as soon as possible and to see the face of his first grandchild; for such is ever the father’s love of his daughter. When he is thus looking forward with great pleasure, how can I take you home and tell him that you have been divorced before even the wedding took place? And yet if your mother-in-law refuses to take you in, we can do nothing. Especially, as you are his former wife’s daughter and none of my blood, he might think I was remiss in bringing about your marriage, and I cannot go home alive. When I am dead, you will tell your father what I have told you and beg his forgiveness.
Konami. Ah, what you say is more than I deserve. It is I, unloved of my husband, that should die. I am most undutiful to you, for while I have hitherto received all kindness from you, I am now causing you sorrow. Oh, kill me, I entreat, with your own hand. I desire nothing more than to die here, divorced as I am, in my husband’s house. Please, slay me at once.
Tonase. Oh, well said; you have spoken bravely. I will not kill you alone; but I will accompany you on the road to Hades. When I have slain you with my own hand, I will soon overtake you. Are you ready?
Recitative. She bravely stops her tears and half rises.
Tonase. Oh, Konami, hear that. A komuso[4] is playing outside on his flute the song of the “Nesting of the Crane.” When even birds love their young, it is the clashing of ill-starred karmas that I must slay an innocent child.
Recitative. As she thinks of it, her legs can hardly support her; and as she lifts at last her sword with shaking hands, Konami sits bravely under it with her hands joined in prayer.
Konami. Oh, save us, Amida Buddha.
Recitative. As she recites this prayer, she hears a voice call out.
A Voice. Stop.