Gihei. The weather is fine, and promises a fair voyage.
Recitative. And smoking a pipe, he goes within. His heir is four years old this year, and his nurse is a round-browed boy of nineteen, who plays with his charge for his own amusement.
Igo. Now, it is going to commence. Oh, what fun! “The Crying Benkei.”[1] Listen, gentles all! Here the one to be most pitied is this Yoshimatsu. For he has only a father, and his mother has been divorced and sent away; and that is why I call him the Crying Benkei.
Yoshimatsu. Oh, Igo, I don’t want any more puppet-show. Go and fetch mamma.
Igo. There, you are again unreasonable. I’ll tell master and make him turn you out, too. Since last month the whole house has been turned topsy-turvey. The clerk, why, he has been driven out because he doesn’t keep his eyes open as if he was a young rat or something. The cook was sent packing because she gave a great yawn. And now there are only you, me, and master. I suppose we shall all slip out of this house, for boxes are being sent to ship at times. If we must flit, we will take with us the box of puppets.
Yoshimatsu. No, I don’t want puppet-playing; I want to sleep.
Igo. There, you are going to entice me, too. Very well, I will sleep with you in my arms.
Yoshimatsu. No, I don’t want to.
Igo. Why not?
Yoshimatsu. You can’t give milk; I don’t want you.