Plays

by that name, because she sings in her song of how Yamauba, a she-devil, wanders round the mountain. She has not yet visited the holy Zenkoji temple; so accompanied by myself, she is going now toward it. Chorus

We left the capital, took a boat at ripple-kissing Shiga no Ura to cross the lake; then passed over Arichi no Yama Hill, and reached the Tamaye bridge studded with the jewel-dews. We loitered by the singing shade of the Shiwokoshi pine-tree at Adaka, whose smoke-like leaves were ruffled by the evening wind; we climbed the highest point of Tonami Mountain as keen as the Buddha’s law that will cut asunder our sins. But our goal is still remote underneath the dim clouds. Oh, how far behind is the capital!⁠ ⁠…

Now we arrived at Sakaigawa.

Servant So we have now arrived at Sakaigawa between Echigo and Etchu Provinces. I think we must study which way to take. Singer I am told that the Azero mountain pass is the only one straight road leading to the Zenkoji temple, and finally to a western Pure Land a billion miles away. We should leave our palanquins here and go on barefoot, since ours is a holy journey for austere practice. Servant How strange! Oh! How mysterious! The day grows ere the time suddenly dark. What shall we do now? Old Woman Ho, ho, travellers, come, come stop over the night at my little mountain hut! The day has already set. This, the Azero mountain pass, is a place far away from human dwellings. Servant How glad! We are taken aghast by this early unexpected sun-setting. We will accept your kind invitation with thanks. Old Woman There is a particular reason for my offering you a lodging for the night. Let me hear a bit of the song on Yamauba. That is a desire I have cherished for a long long time. For this purpose I intentionally made the day grow dark, and even offered a lodging. By all means, sing, pray, sing! Servant What a strange request is yours! For whom do you take us? Why do you wish for the song on Yamauba? Old Woman Conceal it not⁠—the lady I see is nobody but Hyakma Yamauba, the renowned singer of the capital. Her song begins, I understand, by describing how Yamauba wanders round the mountain. That is merely a she-devil of her song. But do you know what the real Yamauba looks like? Servant It is told in her song, I believe, that Yamauba is an evil spirit living in the mountain. Old Woman An evil spirit in the mountain indeed! Since I too live amid the verdant hills, that means to say that her song concerns my own self. The fact that this renowned singer sings it for many years, not pitying me at all, is the very cause of my resentment. Oh! How heartless! What an affront! She owes it to the song certainly that she has become famous, her life’s sweet flower blooming perfectly. Therefore, I beg her to say Mass for my soul with dancing and music; then let me escape from the merciless pains of transmigration, and enter into the natural righteous final realm. I am nothing but the very spirit of Yamauba, now making her resentful presence before you, O lady. Singer Alas, you, the real Yamauba! Old Woman Yes, I came from afar to hear about myself in your own song. Pray, sing, sing! Singer It is not right, of course, to refuse you further. Old Woman But wait, wait, oh, lady! You would better sing the song after dark, under the shining moon; I will then reveal to you my true ghastly form. Chorus The sad mountain valley that ever hurries to grow dark is now clothed by the sudden streaming clouds, in whose mystery, lo, Yamauba hides away, saying that she will again appear later, and dance wildly to the singer’s nocturnal song.

Act II

Singer	Oh! How surprising! How incredible!
Chorus	The winds blew their flutes through the long forests of pine-trees⁠—the long mournful sound echoing to the clear depth of a valley stream. How the moon finds her lonely home in the silvery heart of the water! What silence of the mountains⁠—
Yamauba	What a nocturnal ghastliness! There a maddening spirit beats his own corpse in a cold forest and with tears repents over the sins of his previous life. Here a glad angel offers flowers to her own corpse in a deep field and with smiles delights in the worthy acts of her former life. To say good or bad, right or wrong, that is after all nothing so different;⁠—what has one to repent? And what has one to delight in? Go to Nature. Learn there a lesson of true perception! The waterfall rushes down, and the rocks are steep. Lo, mountain over mountain! What carver carved such a wonderful shape of green granites? Lo, water on water! What dyer dyed such a pleasing colour of blue brocade?
Singer	Alas and alas! What a fearful face from amid the shadowy gloom of mountains and trees! Ah, are you Yamauba?
Yamauba	Do not fear, do not be afraid of me!
Chorus	Though I speak a human tongue⁠—
Yamauba	my hair is thorn-like, icy-white⁠—
Chorus	my eyes are star-flaming⁠—
Yamauba	and my face is red⁠—
Chorus	like a red demon-tile threatening the world from the roof of a house.
Singer	Oh, the fear that never struck me before!
Chorus	If I were devoured at one mouthful! What terror! Oh! What a horror!
Yamauba	The lovely moment of the spring like this night is valued beyond a thousand pounds. There is fragrance in the flowers; a shadow with the moon. Pray, do not idle away these precious spring moments. Sing quickly, sing quickly!
Singer	Now I will sing⁠—
Chorus	making the waterfall beat a sound of the drum⁠—
Singer	with a flute played by the pine-tree.
Chorus	Oh! What a sight to see how the dark ghost wanders round the mountain!
Yamauba	The mountain rising first from a bit of dust, will thrust itself through the sky and clouds;⁠—
Chorus	the sea that began with a moss-dew, enfolds