Kanpei. I thank you, Master Yagoro. Yes, I heard long ago that you were collecting money, it was said, for the monument. I, too, have made every effort to offer some money, and hoped, on the strength of the contribution, to obtain pardon. But Master Yagoro, how ashamed I am! See my present condition; it is a punishment for my disloyalty to my lord, and I have none to turn to for help. But Karu’s father, Yoichibei, is a worthy man. He and his wife lament the unfaithfulness with which we, husband and wife, served Lord Hangwan, and are most anxious that I should find means to become a samurai again. I will seize this occasion to tell them of my meeting you and, after giving an account of our talk, let them know how I may be restored to my former position. Then they will not, I am sure, hesitate to sell for their children’s sake the little land they possess. I beg, when I have brought the money, you will present it to Master Goemon.
Yagoro. Yes, I will now go and tell Master Goemon what you have said to me and through him ask pardon of Master Yuranosuke. I will give you an answer without fail the day after to-morrow. This is the address at which Master Goemon has put up.
Recitative. As he gives him the address, Kanpei receives it with gratitude.
Kanpei. I am thankful for your manifold kindness. I will immediately find the money and wait upon you the day after to-morrow. If you wish to come to my house, you will turn to the left from the ferry at Yamazaki, and you will soon find Yoichibei’s house by inquiring in the neighbourhood. You had better go quickly before the night grows late. The road is still more unsafe further on, and so take great care of yourself.
Yagoro. No fear. Until the monument is raised, not a flea shall bite this body of mine. You, too, keep yourself in good health. I shall look forward to hearing of your contribution. Fare you well.
Recitative. They part, and each hurries on his way. The rain again comes down. Feeble footsteps are heard. Though he has not lost his way in the dark, he is a simple, honest old man who comes hanging on his staff, drawn hither by a blind love of his child. He hears a voice calling to him from behind.
A Voice. Hi, hi, old man. You are a good road-companion.
Recitative. The speaker is Ono Kudayu’s son, Sadakuro, who, having no place to go to, has turned a highwayman and nightly plies his trade on this road. He has a flat sword at his side.
Sadakuro. I have been calling you a long time; could you not hear me? It is bold of you at your age to travel alone on this unsafe road. I will bear you company.