Gihei. You are welcome, father. I sent you the other day my wife for her health; and I am afraid she is a trouble to you. Does she take medicine?
Ryochiku. Yes, she takes medicine and she takes food, too.
Gihei. That is excellent.
Ryochiku. No, it is not excellent. When I was in my province, I received a stipend from Master Ono Kudayu and was fairly to do; but now I cannot even keep a servant. There must be some reason for your sending your wife who is not particularly ill to me for her health. But be that as it may, if the young woman should misconduct herself, you will be dishonoured and I shall have to cut this shrivelled belly of mine. And so I have a proposal to make. Suppose you pretend to the world that you have separated from her and send me a letter of divorce; why, when you want her, you can at any time take her back. Just write me the letter, please.
Recitative. Though he speaks lightly, Gihei sees that he has some plan in his heart; but if he refuses, she will be immediately sent back, and if she comes back, he will be breaking his word to those who entrusted him with the great task. He hesitates in his perplexity.
Ryochiku. Do you refuse? If you will not consent, I cannot keep her a moment longer. If she returns, I shall squeeze myself in, too, and stick to you and be a burden upon you together with her. Answer me if you consent or refuse.
Recitative. Taken at a disadvantage, Gihei feels with mortification that he is caught in a trap; but he cannot run the risk of the great undertaking being detected. He takes down the ink-slab and quickly writes the letter.
Gihei. Since I give you this, Master Ryochiku, we are no longer father and son.
Never again darken my doors. I am chagrined to think that I am knowingly falling into your trap in giving you this letter. Now, take it and go.