This worthy went out to buy some pepper to be used in the soup at the marriage feast. When he returned, the boy gave the wicked Sagohei the pepper instead of the antidote, and as the condiment was opened in the dark both Sagohei and the boy sneezed a good deal.
Then came that moment in a Japanese wedding when the bride and bridegroom drink sake from the same cup. One sip of the poisoned sake and O-Chiyo fell dead.
The stage then revolved, showing the kitchen and the sorrowful mother holding an argument with Sagohei as to the disposition of the one hundred ryo that was part of O-Chiyo’s dowry. The mother wished to present it to a temple, but the clerk insisted it should be buried with her.
O-Chiyo’s lover next appeared—discharged from service under his feudal lord because he had been implicated in the loss of a highly treasured poem in the handwriting of the poet. This had been pawned, and in order to redeem it he was obliged to find 250 ryo.
The apprentice-boy threw away the antidote, thinking it was pepper and therefore of no further use now that a calamity had overtaken the house. Tsunagoro picked it up, and the boy told him that 100 ryo was to be buried with the body. A night watchman happened to overhear the boy’s words, and planned to rob the grave, Tsunagoro in desperate need of money decided on the same course. Both the doctor and the clerk had a similar end in view.
A graveyard is the next scene, O-Chiyo’s coffin in sight, while a dead patient has been interred, with O-Chiyo’s name placed over it. Tsunagoro watches, and when the doctor comes prowling about, knocks him out with a blow. At this moment O-Chiyo begins to groan. Tsunagoro wishes to give her the antidote but hesitates. Is it to be the money or the woman? After a struggle, he decides he cannot leave O-Chiyo to die, and so brings her back to life. She gladly parts with the money, but asks him to run away with her, as she does not wish to return home. This the ronin is in no mood to do, but finally they steal away arm in arm as the night watchman and the clerk attempt to rob the grave, and administer the pepper to restore the corpse to life which makes the two rascals sneeze prodigiously. Unlike the majority of Japanese plays that end in tragedy, Tsunagoro and O-Chiyo were married and lived happily ever after.
With such a play Tsuruya Namboku entertained Yedo audiences a hundred years ago.
Had shibai been wide open to the world, and relations with other theatres established, its character must have been entirely different. Very little evidence can be produced to show that either China or Europe exerted any considerable influence upon it.
Owing to its enforced seclusion of more than two hundred years, it was free to develop in its own way, and for this reason shibai may be regarded as one of the purest and most characteristic of Japan’s national institutions.