Gihei. Why, that complaint should be the other way about. How did you take what I told you when I sent you home? I said that I was not divorcing you, but that you should return for a while to your father’s house. He was formerly Ono Kudayu’s stipendiary, I said; and as his heart is unaltered, I will not tell him the reason; pretend to be sick; do not freely get up or lie down, or comb your hair. Did I not say so? and have you forgotten it all? Nobody will propose a marriage to a woman whose hair is always dishevelled. You cannot possibly love Yoshimatsu. Though the fool coaxes him from morning till evening, he calls for mamma when night falls. I tell him mamma will be soon here and try to lay him to sleep; but he will not close his eyes, and if I scold him or look angry, he will not cry aloud but keeps on sobbing. When I see it, I feel as if my body were being torn to pieces. And it reminds me of the obligations I owe to my parents; these obligations, they say, we come to know only when we have children of our own. I look upon these sufferings for my child as a punishment for my undutifulness to my parents and weep with remorse until the day dawns. Last night, three times I took him in my arms and, thinking to carry him to you, went as far as the outside of the house. But, I reflected, it was not for one night only, it might take fifty days, or we might have to remain separated for a hundred days, and if he got again used to you, troubles would follow. And so for three cho[4] five cho, I walked on, shaking and patting him, and when he fell asleep, I gently laid him down and pressed him to my breast, when in his sleep he groped for milk and tried to suck. Since he yearns for you even when separated for a while, I have no wish to keep you apart for life. But this letter of divorce which I was obliged to write and give to Ryochiku, to receive it back in secret would be an improper act done in defiance of your father; I cannot willingly take it back, and so go home with it. Think it is all over between us, it is our foreordained fate; there need be no more ado if you imagine me dead.
Recitative. Though he speaks resolutely, it is sad to those who know his ordinary life.
Osono. If I remain in this house, your honour will be in danger, and if I go home, I must marry. Upon me falls the whole burden of sorrow. This may be our final parting. Please, wake up Yoshimatsu and let me have just one look at him.
Gihei. No, I cannot do that. But you would have to go away as soon as you saw him, and I have too much pity for your sorrow after parting. This evening, besides, I have guests, and so, without more noise, go home at once.
Osono. But just one look at Yoshimatsu.......
Gihei. How weak-spirited! Think of your sorrow afterwards.
Recitative. He raises her by force and, giving her the letter of divorce, he hardens his heart and pushes her out of the house.
Gihei. If you love your child, make excuses to Ryochiku and get him to keep you till the spring, and then we will hit upon some plan. If you cannot do that, then this will be our last meeting.
Recitative. He shuts the door and goes within.
Osono. Oh, if that were possible, I should not be suffering now. Unfeeling are you, my husband. You not only divorce me, who am innocent, but refuse to let me see my child; it is too cruel, too inhuman. I will not move a step until I have seen my child; I will not.