One of the best scenes in this long domestic tragedy is the meeting of the three youthful characters. There is something so genuinely homely and human about O-Mitsu, as she is seen busying herself in preparation for her marriage to Hisamatsu, all unaware that her future husband has already given his heart elsewhere. The drab interior of a humble farmhouse seems to have been transformed, and to reflect something of the girl’s radiance as she poses to the rhythm of the samisen, the minstrel on his rostrum to the right of the stage explaining her movements.
Those long acquainted with the play know that O-Mitsu will cut slices from daikon, the long, white, radish-like vegetable, in readiness for the wedding feast, but how she does it is watched with fascination. Every one, too, knows that she will make her toilet before the round metal mirror, full of bashful happiness at the thought of her approaching marriage.
Even while O-Mitsu is deep in thoughts of herself as a bride, her rival, O-Some, of whom she has never even dreamed, appears on the hanamichi in the midst of the audience. She is the very acme of good taste and style, the daughter of an Osaka family that does not lack in this world’s goods. She is clad in a resplendent purple kimono. O-Mitsu can never hope to compete with this beautiful creature, who comes knocking at the cottage entrance.
Looking within her mirror O-Mitsu sees the reflection of the visitor, a vision of beauty, in contrast to her own rustic simplicity, and the flame of jealousy begins to bum. In her confusion she pays no attention to O-Some, overturns her mirror, and chops up the daikon recklessly into small pieces.
Still hostile to the visitor, who remains waiting for admittance, O-Mitsu is joined by Hisamatsu and the father, who are not yet aware of a stranger’s presence, although O-Mitsu puts her head out of the door in anything but a hospitable manner, making exclamations of scorn and anger expressive of her hostile state of mind as she pushes her rival away, closes the latticed door, and to make sure that it is secured against O-Some’s invasion, places against it a bundle of dried twigs gathered for fuel.
Very human, too, is the application of moxa, a burning medicine, to the legs of the old farmer, who writhes with pain at each fresh ministration by his daughter. Hisamatsu, taking part in this operation by massaging the old man’s shoulders, is surprised to find O-Some at the entrance and motions her to go away. He has not yet had time to break the news of his relations to the Osaka maiden, and is at a loss what to do. O-Mitsu also continues to show her displeasure, but the unwelcome visitor cannot be driven away. The farmer, at last viewing the newcomer, realises the situation, and drags the unwilling O-Mitsu out of the room, leaving the lovers together.
After a sorrowful love scene between Hisamatsu and O-Some, O-Mitsu returns, but they are astonished to find that she has cut off her hair and wears the garb of a nun. She has decided that Hisamatsu and O-Some belong to each other, and so sacrifices herself that they may have no regrets on her account. O-Some is full of gratitude, and Hisamatsu is overcome by her sacrifice. O-Some’s mother next appears to take her daughter home.
The stage then revolves showing the side of the cottage, a stream of water, a boat landing, and a boatman waiting for his passengers to the left, while on the right two palanquin men are ready to take Hisamatsu away.
Quickly the hanamichi is spread with a blue and white cotton cloth to represent water. Mother and daughter prepare to embark in the boat. The shoji, or white paper windows of the cottage, are pushed aside, and O-Mitsu gazes out sadly.
To the rippling, merry rhythms of the samisen, and a spring song in praise of the plum blossom sung in a rollicking way by the palanquin bearers, they take their departure; Hisamatsu carried in a palanquin on one hanamichi looking across the heads of the audience at O-Some, and again with regret at O-Mitsu; O-Some and her mother borne over the cotton waves spread out along the main hanamichi, the boatman working so hard at the task of plying the oar that he has to take off his coat to cool himself, the blue and white robed property men really doing all the pushing and pulling of the craft so that it moves smoothly through the audience. O-Mitsu and the old father stand together outside the cottage, lonely figures, bearing the brunt of the sorrow of farewell; the whole theatre becomes a stage, and each and every person in the audience feels his or her connection with the play and with the actors.