CHAPTER XXVI.
THE GREAT THEATRE OF OSAKA.
On one of the largest of the canals which intersect Osaka in everydirection stands the theatre, with its broad facade, capped by tworoofs. You can go to the play in a boat; you can also go on foot, or ina norimono; for a quay paved with blue flag-stones runs in front of thebuilding, and divides it from the canal.
Two huge blue-silk banners, covered with Chinese characters, hangfrom flag-staffs at either corner of the house, rising high above theroof. Upon large tablets, on a gold ground, are painted the principalscenes in the plays to be performed. They are painted with marvellouswealth of color, and depict warriors, princesses, gods, and demons inthe most exaggerated attitudes. Sometimes, instead of a picture, wefind a combination of stuffs arranged in broad relief, velvet, crape,or satin, representing the dresses of the various characters, andproducing the most brilliant effects. From the red cross-beams beneaththe roof hang enormous lanterns, round in shape on the lower floor,square upstairs. On the ridge-pole, a fabulous animal, something like adog or lion, juts forward, opening wide his jaws, with bristling maneand tail.
By eight o'clock in the morning--the dragon's hour--the crowd collectedbefore the doors of the Grand Theatre. Those who had no hope ofadmittance meant at least to enjoy the dazzling spectacle of thearrival of wealthy citizens and elegantly dressed ladies.
On each side of the principal entrance, reached by a broad staircase,were reared lofty platforms, upon which various delegates from thecompany of actors stood forth, in street dress, fan in hand. In pompousstyle, with merry gestures and grimaces, they loudly commended thepieces which they were to give to the public, praising the splendorof the costumes and stage setting, and the incomparable merit of theplayers; and when that subject was exhausted, they amused the mob byall sorts of jokes, puns, and anecdotes, delivered with comic gravity,and accompanied by the perpetual motion of the fan, handled in skilful,graceful style.
Soon the favored portion of the public, who were able to engage theirseats in advance, arrived from all sides. Across the two bridgesarching the canal to right and left of the theatre came norimonos andcangos, their bearers advancing with measured pace, and following oneafter the other in infinite succession; from every street appearedcountless palanquins. The black lacquer glittered in the sun, thedresses of the women, in haste to enter, had the fresh tints of newlyopened flowers. Some young men arrived on horseback; they threw thebridle to the groom, who ran before them, and mounted the stairs tothe theatre hurriedly. Under the shade of broad parasols came variousfamilies on foot. Upon the canal a throng of boats besieged thelanding-stage; the rowers exchanged hard words; the women stepped onshore with little shrieks of alarm. They were followed by maid-servantscarrying magnificent boxes of carved ivory, mother-of-pearl, orsandal-wood. The hall was soon filled, and the doors were closed.
The interior of the theatre was rectangular in shape, the parquetdivided into square spaces separated by partitions about ten incheshigh. Two aisles led from the back of the house to the stage, whichlatter was not divided by any practical boundary from the body of thehouse, both being upon the same level. These aisles seemed intendedrather for occasional exits and entrances of the actors, than forthe accommodation of visitors, the partitions between the boxesbeing sufficiently broad to allow the spectators to reach the placesreserved for them. The journey, however, was not without peril, andwas accomplished amid screams and bursts of laughter. The women,hampered by their handsome dresses, advanced cautiously, stumblingoccasionally. The men offered their arms, to help them into the boxes;but some preferred to sit upon the edge and slide gracefully down. Eachcompartment held eight persons, who squatted upon the matted floor;and as soon as they were seated, a servant, attached to the theatre,brought them tea and saki on a lacquer tray, with pipes and a brazier.
Raised above the parquet on three sides of the hall was a double rowof boxes, the fourth side being occupied by the stage. These boxes,very richly decorated on a background of red or black lacquer, werethe most select part of the play-house, especially those in the upperstage. There the most elegant coquettes displayed their magnificenttoilets. The aspect of the theatre was delightful; most of the womenwere beautiful, with their dead-white skins, their glossy hair anddusky eyes. The rustle of silk, the shimmer of satin, the bright colorsand the embroideries, formed a splendid spectacle. The married womenwere easily recognized by their teeth blackened with a mixture of ironfilings and saki, by their plucked eyebrows, and by their sash tied inan enormous knot directly in front. The young girls made the knot atthe back, and left their teeth to their natural whiteness. They alsodressed their hair differently. Instead of letting it hang in a longtwist, or gathered in a heavy mass on the top of the head, they combedit over the forehead, arranged it in wings on either side of the face,and fashioned it into an elaborate and voluminous chignon. Some mightsubstitute, for the tortoise-shell pins generally used, others ofsimilar length, but made of filagree gold; their neighbors might preferto adorn their hair with nothing but flowers and silk cords.
The men were no less fond of dress; crape, brocade, and velvet notbeing forbidden for their wear. Some had an embroidered scarf on oneshoulder, one end hanging forward; the longer the scarf was, the higherthe social rank of the wearer. When he saluted a superior he must benduntil the scarf touched the ground. Therefore the longer it was, theless he had to bend. A party of nobles appearing incognito, their faceshidden by black crape hoods, showing nothing but their eyes, filled thelower row of boxes. But one of these, very near the stage, remainedempty; it was suddenly thrown open, and a woman appeared.
The spectators could not repress a cry of amazement upon recognizingYodogimi. Was it possible?--the Shogun's mother entering a theatreopenly! Had she lost all respect for custom and decorum, and forherself! The veil of light gauze, fastened to the big pins in herheaddress, and covering her face, although it might show her desireto preserve her incognito, in no way masked the Princess; she wasrecognized at the first glance. Still, surprise soon gave way toadmiration. Every one was glad she had not hidden her charmingface, which the transparent veil did but embellish. Besides, theextraordinary dress worn by Yodogimi took the audience by storm. Herrobe was woven of pale gold, covered with fine pearls and grains ofcrystal; she seemed to radiate light, as if the stars were imprisonedin the folds of the stuff. The Princess smiled as she saw how promptlythe first sensation of displeasure was overcome by admiration. Shetook her seat slowly; and when she was settled in her place, a maskedwarrior was seen standing behind her.
Then the faint clamor of a gong, the trill of a couple of flutes, anda few muffled blows on a tambourine were heard. The musicians took uptheir instruments; the play was about to begin.
The audience turned to the stage; it was closed by a curtain coveredwith huge lozenges, and in the centre of which appeared, upon ascarlet disk, an immense Chinese character, standing for the name of"Humming-Top," the famous and unrivalled actor. A rich silk merchanthad presented this curtain in his honor; it was not to be changed untilHumming-Top should be surpassed or equalled by one of his colleagues.
The curtain moved; and a man, drawing it slightly aside, came forward.The instant he appeared, the hubbub which filled the hall ceasedabruptly. The man saluted the audience with all sorts of grimaces.He was dressed like a wealthy lord, and held in his hands a papercylinder, which he began to unroll.
The people hung upon his words in profound silence; and yet they allknew that no one could unravel the sense of them. For such is themission of this individual: he is to speak without being understood. Ifany one discover the true meaning of what he reads from his roll, hehas missed his object. Still, he is to read the text literally, withoutskipping a word, or adding a syllable. The paper contains an outline ofthe piece to be played, the names of the characters, the actors, andthe scene of action. The herald, by clipping his words and phrases,by uniting things that should be divided; by pausing where there isno pause, managed to mar his test completely,
to make absurd mistakesand ridiculous jokes, at which the public laughed till the tears randown their cheeks. Still they listened; they tried to guess the truemeaning. But the speaker was clever: he withdrew, leaving no one a whitthe wiser.
When he had disappeared, noisy strains of music sounded behind thescenes, and the curtain rose.
The scene represented an elegant apartment with a large window openingupon a country landscape; rich screens, a bed,--that is, a velvetmattress,--and a number of cushions, furnished the chamber.
The audience at once recognized the scenery of one of the most popularplays in the repertory of the theatre.
"It's the third act of the Vampire!" was whispered on every hand.
Only this one act of the Vampire, which is the best and most dramatic,was given. The public expressed their satisfaction by a prolongedmurmur, and the curtain fell.
During the intermission most of the audience left the hall, and stormedthe adjoining tea-house. There the morning meal was served, or merelywarm drinks and a few dainties, amidst an indescribable tumult andconfusion. Every one expressed his opinion of the merits of the playjust witnessed, and of the actors' skill. Their gestures, their criesand contortions, were imitated. Some attempted to repeat their capers,to the great amusement of the spectators; others played chess, morra,or dice.
The wait was a long one. The lads who took the part of women in thefirst piece were to appear in the second as well; they must have timeto rest, take a bath, and change their dresses. But the time passedpleasantly; people ate, smoked, and laughed, and then flocked merrilyback to the theatre.
The appearance of the hall was entirely different; all the ladies inthe boxes had changed their dresses, the new ones being still moregorgeous than the first.
All eyes were bent on Yodogimi, eager to see how she could contrivea second toilet worthy of that which had so recently dazzled allbeholders. Again they were mute with surprise. She seemed clothedin jewels and woven flames; her robe was one mass of humming-birdfeathers, which flashed like sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and burningcoals. Those living gems had been slaughtered whole-sale to form anample garment, which cost the price of a castle.
The herald reappeared, delivered a speech no less mysterious than thefirst, and the curtain rose.
A scene from the Onono-Komat-Ki was now given.
Onono-Komat was a lovely maiden attached to the Court of Kioto. Havinga passion for poetry, she devoted herself to study, and composedverses; but in her love of perfection, the poem once written, shewashed it out and began again. Young men fell in love with her beauty,and persecuted her with their attentions. She repulsed them, andcontinued her favorite studies. But the persistent suitors could notpardon her disdain; by base calumny they brought her into disgrace.The inspired maiden left the palace, and wandered at random. Bydegrees she became poorer and poorer; but her love of poetry neverfailed. She contemplated the beauties of nature, and sang of them withrare perfection of style. Age came; her hair turned white; she wascompletely destitute, roaming from village to village, leaning on astaff, a basket on her arm, and living on alms. Children gathered roundher when she sat at the gates of a temple; she smiled sweetly on them,and taught them pretty verses. Sometimes a bonze would respectfully askleave to copy one of the poems stowed away in her basket. The inspiredsinger died; then only was hatred silenced, and her glory shone forth.She was deified, and her memory is reverenced by all men.
After representing various portions of the play descriptive of the lifeof Onono-Komat, a burlesque interlude was played, and then the Taiko-Kiat last began.
The curtain went up on a vast scene representing an encampment ofsoldiers. The General's tent, rising high above the rest, was pitchedin the centre. Envoys came running in dismay, gesticulating wildly witharms and legs.
"The General! the General! we must see the General at once!" they cry.
Then the curtains of the tent are parted, and Taiko appears. TheHumming-Top had succeeded in reproducing exactly the attitude and dressof the hero he represented. The audience showed their satisfaction.Those who, in their youth, had seen the illustrious Shogun, fanciedthey beheld him once more.
"What do you want?" says Taiko.
The emissaries dare not open their lips.
"Well!" says Taiko, frowning, and clapping his hand to his sword.
"Sire, while you fight your country's foes, Mitsou-Fide, to whom youintrusted the care of the kingdom, has seized the power."
At this news, Taiko's face passes successively from surprise to anxietyand fury.
Meanwhile a man carrying a light on the end of a long bamboo pole, heldit close to the actor's face, that the public might not lose any of hisfacial expression.
"Let us be off!" cries Taiko;' "my presence alone can restore order inthe palace."
He gives the command of his troops to one of his officers, and leavesthe stage by a raised passage through the parquet, and disappearsthrough a heavy curtain.
The stage revolved, and revealed the interior of a pagoda.
Taiko enters. He asks for a night's rest in the pagoda, and is toldthat Mitsou-Fide has just arrived with his wife and mother. They aretravelling, and have stopped here. Taiko starts violently.
"My enemy so near!" he exclaims. "Shall I fly? No; I must disguisemyself."
He calls for a razor, shaves his head, and slips on the dress of abonze. He has scarcely fastened it, when Mitsou-Fide enters, andcasts a suspicious glance at Taiko; the latter, to appear at his easeand quite calm, begins to sing a simple air, popular throughout thekingdom:--
music bars]
"From the mountain top I gaze down into the valley. The cucumbers and the hawthorn, hope of the harvest, are in bloom."
"Come here, bonze," says Mitsou-Fide. "My mother is tired after herjourney; you may prepare a bath for her."
"Who would have thought that I came here to play the part of servant?"cries Taiko, turning towards the audience with most wonderful facialexpression. "I obey," he adds aloud.
The bath-room was only divided from the apartment which occupiedthe stage by a screen covered with oiled paper. Taiko prepares thebath; amusing the audience meantime by a thousand comical remarks,accompanied by appropriate grimaces.
Mitsou-Fide's mother, enters, and asks if the bath is ready. On theaffirmative reply of the false bonze, she disappears behind the screen.But Mitsou-Fide learns that Taiko is in the pagoda, and now rushes upin a rage, shouting loudly for his enemy.
"He is in the bath," says a priest.
"He shall not escape me."
Taiko, during this scene, creeps off.
Mitsou-Fide cuts a long stock of bamboo in the garden, sharpens one endof it, and hardens it over the coals in a bronze chafing-dish. Thenmarching up to the dividing-screen, he pierces the paper with thisimpromptu spear, and thinking to slay his enemy, kills his mother.
"What have I done?" he exclaims in alarm, on hearing a woman's shriek.
"You have killed your mother!" says his young wife, entering, pale withhorror, and trembling like a leaf.
"Repent! repent while she expires!" she cries, in a monotonous chant."This cruel murder, committed by your hand, is the vengeance of Heaven!Did I not bid you beware of betraying your master? You usurped thepower. See to what ambition leads you; you have killed your mother! Atleast repent while she expires."
"Alas! alas!" howls the murderer; "let us leave this accursed spot, letus fly! Remorse rends my heart! For three days I possessed the power:my punishment is terrible. My mother slain by my own hand! I cannotbelieve it!"
He bursts into the bath-room; then comes out, with all the signs ofdespair bordering on madness.
The stage again revolves, and represents a field. Taiko in battlearray, surrounded by soldiers, waits to intercept his enemy, who isabout to escape. Mitsou-Fide crosses the stage with a scanty train ofattendants; he is hemmed in by Taiko's men. The latter, after a longspeech, in which he overwhelms his unworthy servant with reproaches,takes him prisoner and loads him
with chains.
The curtain falls; the play is over.
It interested the audience deeply; in certain situations theydiscovered analogies to the events which had so recently troubled thecountry. Hieyas was often mentally substituted for Mitsou-Fide.
Everybody went home highly delighted.
Everybody? No. Fide-Yori had death in his soul. Omiti was not at theperformance. Nagato tried in vain to comfort his friend.
"I shall never see her again!" he cried. "I hoped that I might yet behappy in this life; but misfortune clings to me persistently. Look you,friend," he continued, "I long to die; I am overwhelmed with sorrow.My mother's conduct, her mad and ruinous extravagance, displayed inpublic, fill my heart with bitterness. Several times, when I heard therough voice of that soldier whom she is weak enough to love, I was onthe point of leaping into their box, slapping him in the face, anddriving her out, with the righteous wrath evoked by such a disregard ofall propriety and decency. And then my anger died at a gentle thoughtwhich took possession of me. I hoped that she would come,--that maidenin whom my every hope is centred; I searched the hall with an eagerglance. She did not come! All is ended; all is desolate within me; andthe life which she preserved I would fain lay down forever!"