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More Portmanteau Plays

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Год написания книги
2018
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[Obaa-San enters. She is old, very, very old, and withered and misshapen. There is only laughter in your heart when you look at Obaa-San unless you see her eyes. Then—

OBAA-SAN

My tree! My little tree! Why do you sigh?

THE TREE

Hai! Hai! Hai!

OBAA-SAN

Sometimes I think I pity you. Yes, dear tree!

THE TREE

Hai! Hai! Hai!

THE GAKI

Now I am a traveller. She sees me pleasantly.—Grandmother!

OBAA-SAN

Ay, sir!

THE GAKI

Which way to Kyushu?

OBAA-SAN

You have lost your way. Far, far back beyond the ferry landing at Ishiyama to your right. That is the way to Kyushu.

THE GAKI

Ah, me!

OBAA-SAN

You are tired. Will you not sit and rest?—Will you not have some rice?

THE GAKI

Oh, no.—Where is your brood, grandmother?

OBAA-SAN

I have no brood. I am no grandmother. I am no mother.

THE GAKI

What! Are there tears in your voice?

OBAA-SAN

Tears! Why should I weep?

THE GAKI

I do not know, grandmother!

OBAA-SAN

I am no grandmother!—Who sent you here to laugh at me?—O-Sode-San? 'Tis she who laughs at me, because—

THE GAKI

No one, old woman—

OBAA-SAN

Yes, yes, old woman. That is it. Old woman!—Who are you? I am not wont to cry my griefs to any one.

THE GAKI

Griefs? You have griefs?

OBAA-SAN

Ay! Even I—she whom they call Obaa-San—have griefs.—Even I! But they are locked deep within me. No one knows!

THE GAKI

Someone must know.

OBAA-SAN

I shall tell no one.

THE GAKI

Someone must know!

OBAA-SAN

You speak like some spirit—and I feel that I must obey.

THE GAKI

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