ACT IX.

In Yamashina, which is neither elegant nor out-of-the-common and has nothing to recommend it, lies Yuranosuke’s temporary home. Since yesterday he has remained at the tea-house in Gion; for last night he was kept in by snow and has come home this morning. Jesters and waitresses have come with him, and flushed with wine, he attempts to roll the snow; but instead of the snow rolling, he rolls in the snow, and he amuses himself heedless of all appearances.

A Jester. Master, your parlour commands a fine view. The garden with the bamboos weighted with snow looks just like a picture; it is beautiful, is it not, Oshina?

Oshina. Yes, when I see this view, I do not wish to go anywhere else.

Yuranosuke. Er......don’t you know that ode,

Two men and a woman Though a man may be proud of his garden, he cannot relish wine at home; it will not go down his throat. Now, come in, come in. Where is my wife when I have visitors?

Recitative. He goes before the others; and as he strides from one stepping-stone to another, his words are unsteady, and so are his legs, for he is exhilarated with wine. His wife, guessing that he has returned, comes out in a light spirit, and in her anxiety for her husband out in the cold, she shows no jealousy. With cheerful words she brings him a cup of tea; but he takes only a sip and throws the rest on the ground.

Yuranosuke. Ah, wife, that is clumsy of you. You wish me to become sober when I have had wine and enjoyed myself. How jealous must other people think you! Ah, how the snow has fallen! Snow is like whipped cotton, they say, and flying, is stuffed within; and the wife, when she is called mamma, becomes a household drudge.[1] Pardon the lateness of my visit to my lady’s chamber. The spring lobster, the goblet, and the fence of the Rice-God of the Grotto must be red, or they will lose their votaries, I suppose. Dear, dear, I have stumbled and sprained my big toe. Oh, well, well. I will do so while I am about it.

Oishi. Oh, do not jest; be quiet. When he drinks too much, he loses his senses. What a trouble he must have been to you!

Recitative. She speaks to them gently. Rikiya comes in.

Rikiya. Please, mother. Is father asleep? Pray, give him this.

Recitative. From their actions it is plain that the parents and son understand one another; and when Rikiya hands a wooden pillow, Yuranosuke appears to be in a dream.

Oishi. Will you all now go home?

Jesters and Waitresses. Yes, yes, madam. Pray, present compliments to Master. And come sometimes, Young Master.

Recitative. They make signs with their eyes, and they go home with abashed looks. When they have gone beyond hearing, Yuranosuke raises his head.

Yuranosuke. Rikiya, see this snow that I rolled when I pretended to amuse myself; it was done with an object in view. What do you make of it?

Rikiya. Snow, sir, is scattered when it falls by the least wind; and yet, though it is light, it becomes, when it is pressed into a ball, as you see there, as hard as a stone, for rocks are split by snow that is blown down from a peak. Weighty is loyalty. But neither that weighty loyalty nor this ball of snow must be kept too long. Is that your meaning, sir?

Yuranosuke. No, no. Yuranosuke, his son, Hara Goemon, and the rest of the forty-seven confederates are all masterless and live in the shade. Snow, too, will not melt if it is kept in the shade; and it warns us against haste. It is in the sun here, take it into the yard behind the house. When they collected fireflies or piled snow[2] for light to read by, it showed the patience of scholars. Let the servant open the garden-gate from inside. I will write the letter to Sakai; when the messenger comes, let me know.

Recitative. The servant opens the garden-gate; the snow is rolled in and the gate is shut. The sliding-door is opened and they all go in.

She who now comes to this retreat in Yamashina, as far removed from the world as the recesses of the heart, is Tonase, the wife of Kakogawa Honzo Yukikuni. She makes the palanquin which has come with her wait near her; and alone she girds two swords and, strict in deportment, she calls at the door of the retreat.

Tonase. If you please.

Recitative. Hearing her voice, the servant Rin slips off her tasuki[3] and rushes to the door, which formerly would have been answered by an usher.

Tonase. Is this Master Oboshi Yuranosuke’s home? If so, pray, tell him that I am Tonase, Kakogawa Honzo’s wife; I have long neglected to call; but I have come a great distance to-day as there is something for which I desire to see him.

Recitative. Then she turns round and makes the bearers bring the palanquin beside her. She calls her daughter. And with such a smile as smiles the bush-warbler when he flies out of the depths of the valley to find the plum-tree all a-flower, out comes Konami, with a head-covering almost concealing her eyes.

Konami. Are we already at Master Rikiya’s home? I feel too shy.

Recitative. The room is put in order, and the servant comes to the door to bid them enter.

Tonase. The palanquin-bearers may now go home. Please, show us in.

Recitative. Konami keeps close to her mother and sits down with her; and the next moment Oishi calmly enters to meet them.

Oishi. You ladies are welcome. I should have called long ago; but you have no doubt heard of our present condition, and I am ashamed to be visited in such a home.

Tonase. You are too formal. Though we see each other for the first time to-day, since your son, Master Rikiya and my daughter Konami were betrothed, you and I are now connections, and we need not stand upon ceremony to each other.

Oishi. It is very kind of you to say so. I am grateful for such an unexpected visit in this cold weather of Master Kakogawa Honzo’s lady who must be very busy. Mistress Tonase knows the Capital, no doubt; but it must be quite new to Mistress Konami. Have you been to Gion, Kiyomizu, Chion-in, and the Great Statue of Buddha? If you wish to see the Kinkakuji, I can procure you admittance.

Recitative. To this unreserved talk Konami can only mutter a word or two in answer, as if the light dazzled her even through her head-covering. Tonase now sits up straight.

Tonase. I will tell you why I came here to-day. After this my daughter Konami was betrothed, came the calamity to your Lord Enya, and we could not discover where Master Yuranosuke and Master Rikiya dwelt. It is the way of the world to change with the times; but unchangeable is the parent’s heart. Upon inquiry, we found that you lived here in Yamashina and, in our desire to make over our daughter to you as soon as possible, I have forced myself upon you to-day. My husband Honzo should have come in person; but as he is busy with his official duties, I have girded myself with these two swords, the soul of my husband, and am therefore here as his deputy. I do duty for him and myself. I desire to see Master Yuranosuke also. I should like to see the marriage-cups exchanged and feel at ease. Happily, to-day is an auspicious day, and please, therefore, to make preparations for the marriage.

Oishi. Your words are most unexpected. Unfortunately, Yuranosuke has gone out; but if he were at home and saw you, he would answer, “I am most grateful for your kindness. When the children were betrothed, I was in my lord’s service and received a stipend; I asked Master Honzo to give me his daughter and he consented, and the promise was made. But now I am a ronin with scarcely a servant; and though the promise was made, the daughter of one of Master Kakogawa’s high position would be out of place here; it would be, as the vulgar saying is, as ill-matched as a lantern and a temple-bell. An ill-sorted marriage can only end in a divorce. Besides, we have not exchanged betrothal presents, and so, pray give her away anywhere you please without the least reserve.” That, Madam, would be his answer.

Tonase. You surprise me. However much you may humble yourself, you cannot say that it is an ill match between Honzo and Master Yuranosuke. I will tell you why. My master is of a modest position, and his chief councillor Honzo receives only five hundred koku; while Lord Enya was a daimyo, and his chief councillor Master Yuranosuke’s stipend was fifteen hundred koku. Did you not make the betrothal when your stipend was a thousand koku higher than Honzo’s? And now you are a ronin, and even if you were without income, Honzo’s stipend would only be five hundred koku higher than yours.

Oishi. No, you are wrong. Though there might be a difference of not merely five hundred koku, but even of ten thousand, we would not object to taking for wife a great man’s daughter if only our hearts matched.

Tonase. I should like to hear more of this, Mistress Oishi. You say, if your hearts matched. Whose hearts, pray, tell me?

Oishi. My master Lord Enya Hangwan’s death was due, it is true, to his hasty temper; but it arose originally from his love of honesty. On the other hand, Master Honzo cajoled Moronao with bribe and receives the stipend of a fawning samurai. We cannot take for wife a woman who is an ill match for the beloved son of Yuranosuke who refuses to serve a second master.

Recitative. Instantly Tonase shuffles forward.

Tonase. Whom do you mean by a fawning samurai? According to your answer, I may refuse to let it pass; but I will overlook it for the love of my daughter. It is the wife’s duty to submit to her husband. Whether the marriage ceremony has taken place or not, she is, since she has been betrothed to Rikiya, his wife in the eyes of all men.

Oishi. Humph, that is interesting. If she is his wife, her husband divorces her; I divorce her in my son’s name.

Recitative. With these words she stands up and going out, shuts the sliding-door behind her. The daughter bursts out crying.

Konami. I came here relying upon your promise to let me see Master Rikiya, to whom I was betrothed as we loved each other, and now his mother divorces me; but I have done nothing to deserve it. Please, plead for me, mother, and let the marriage ceremony take place.

Recitative. She clings to her mother and weeps; and the mother gazes long at her face.

Tonase. It may be due to a parent’s partiality; but your beauty appears to me to be more than ordinary. We looked for a good husband for you and betrothed you to Rikiya; and now our journey has been in vain. I understand now. Being a ronin with no one to turn to, Rikiya has, on the strength of his high birth, become the husband of a wealthy merchant’s daughter and lost all sense of duty and justice. Come, Konami. That fellow’s spirit is as I have just said. Since he has divorced you, you will find many a one anxious to marry you; and have you no wish to go elsewhere? This is a critical moment. Answer firmly without weeping. Come, what do you say?

Recitative. The mother’s nerves are tense as a bow.

Konami. You say cruel things, mother. When I left home, my father said to me that Oboshi Rikiya, ronin as he is, is unexceptionable in conduct and ability and I was fortunate in having such a husband; since a chaste women never looks upon a second husband, I was not, even though I parted from him, to take another husband, for that would be the same as the infidelity of a married woman; asleep or awake, I must not forget to be tender to my husband and be dutiful to Yuranosuke and his wife; I was not, though I lived on good terms with my husband, to be in the least jealous and thus run the risk of being divorced; and when I was about to become a mother, I was not to conceal it from fear of causing my father anxiety, but to let him know at once. These were my father’s words and I remember them well. If I am divorced and go home, I shall only increase his anxiety; and whatever excuse or plea others may offer, I will marry no one, if I cannot Master Rikiya.

Recitative. On hearing Konami show her determination to persist in her love, Tonase can endure no longer and, overcome with tears, she draws her sword.

Konami. What are you going to do, mother?

Recitative. As Konami restrains her, her mother raises her face.

Tonase. Can you ask what I am going to do? As you say, your father wishes to have the marriage ceremony performed as soon as possible and to see the face of his first grandchild; for such is ever the father’s love of his daughter. When he is thus looking forward with great pleasure, how can I take you home and tell him that you have been divorced before even the wedding took place? And yet if your mother-in-law refuses to take you in, we can do nothing. Especially, as you are his former wife’s daughter and none of my blood, he might think I was remiss in bringing about your marriage, and I cannot go home alive. When I am dead, you will tell your father what I have told you and beg his forgiveness.

Konami. Ah, what you say is more than I deserve. It is I, unloved of my husband, that should die. I am most undutiful to you, for while I have hitherto received all kindness from you, I am now causing you sorrow. Oh, kill me, I entreat, with your own hand. I desire nothing more than to die here, divorced as I am, in my husband’s house. Please, slay me at once.

Tonase. Oh, well said; you have spoken bravely. I will not kill you alone; but I will accompany you on the road to Hades. When I have slain you with my own hand, I will soon overtake you. Are you ready?

Recitative. She bravely stops her tears and half rises.

Tonase. Oh, Konami, hear that. A komuso[4] is playing outside on his flute the song of the “Nesting of the Crane.” When even birds love their young, it is the clashing of ill-starred karmas that I must slay an innocent child.

Recitative. As she thinks of it, her legs can hardly support her; and as she lifts at last her sword with shaking hands, Konami sits bravely under it with her hands joined in prayer.

Konami. Oh, save us, Amida Buddha.

Recitative. As she recites this prayer, she hears a voice call out.

A Voice. Stop.

Recitative. Without her knowing it, Tonase’s arms weaken, and the flute, too, becomes suddenly still.

Tonase. Oh, yes, yes. The voice that called stopped the flute of the komuso. As I wished so much to save you, my heart grew faint at the sound of the voice. But let me not be laughed at for a faint-hearted woman. Daughter, are you ready?

Recitative. As she lifts her sword again, again the flute is played, and again the voice calls out.

A Voice. Stop.

Tonase. H’m, the voice that calls out, “Stop,” does it stop the hand of the flute-player or this uplifted hand?

A Voice. I stopped the hand with the sword. The marriage with my son Rikiya shall take place.

Tonase. What, that voice is Mistress Oishi’s. Is it true what you tell me?

Recitative. While she asks, the wedding song is heard from within the sliding-door: “Auspicious, indeed, are the pine-trees that grow together.” Out comes Oishi carrying on a level with her eyes a small stand of plain wood.

Oishi. You showed, Mistress Tonase, a resolute heart when you raised your hand against a daughter to whom you are bound by a sense of duty; and great, too, is Mistress Konami’s chastity of heart. From admiration for your spirit, I will permit the ceremony I am loth to perform; and in return I expect a wine-cup from the bride that is not commonly given. I will receive it on this stand, and have you it ready?

Recitative. As Oishi places the stand before her, Tonase feels a little relieved, and she returns to the scabbard her drawn sword.

Tonase. By a wine-cup uncommon in the world I suppose you mean a wedding-present. These two swords are my husband’s heirloom; the sword was made by Masamune and the dirk by Namino-hira Yukiyasu. They are treasures that cannot be exchanged for house or life. I offer them as presents.

Recitative. Before she has done speaking, Oishi breaks out.

Oishi. Looking down upon us as ronin, you give us two swords of high value as wedding-presents, as much as to say that we may sell them when we are straitened in our means. They are not what we desire.

Tonase. What, then, do you wish?

Oishi. We wish placed on this stand the head of Master Kakogawa Honzo.

Tonase. What? and why?

Oishi. When our Lord Enya Hangwan, having a grudge against Kono Moronao, struck him with his sword in the Palace of Kamakura, it was solely because your husband Kakogawa Honzo who was present caught him from behind and stopped him that he was unable to accomplish his object and his enemy escaped with a slight wound while he himself was compelled to commit seppuku. Though he said nothing at the time, great was his mortification and how must he have hated Master Honzo for his interference! If you think that Rikiya, his servant, is such a man that he will calmly take to wife the daughter of this Kakogawa, I will permit the exchange of the wedding-cups when I have seen on this stand Master Honzo’s hoary head, or if you refuse, place on it any two other heads for the ceremony. Now, do you consent, or do you not?

Recitative. To these sharp words of reason the mother and daughter bow their heads and know not what to do.

A Voice Outside. I will give you Kakogawa Honzo’s head. Receive it.

Recitative. The Honzo standing komuso who has been standing outside, takes off his hat and throws it down; and slowly he comes within.

Konami. What, you are my father?

Tonase. Master Honzo, how did you come here? And in this guise? I cannot understand. How is this?

Honzo. Come, it is unbecoming to be so noisy. I have heard it all. I will tell you later how I came here without letting you know. Be silent for the present. And you are Mistress Oishi, the wife of Master Yuranosuke? I thought it would turn out thus to-day and came without my wife and daughter’s knowledge to find out for myself. And, as I expected, you wish to have my head as my son-in-law’s wedding present! Ha, ha, ha! That is what a samurai should say. Yuranosuke, who has no intention of avenging his lord’s death, given to pleasures, a debauchee whose spirit is disordered with excessive drinking, the greatest mirror of folly in all Japan! A frog’s offspring can but become a frog; and Rikiya is a great idiot no less than his father, a cowardly, good-for-nothing samurai. Such a fellow cannot cut off this head of mine. No more of such foolishness!

Recitative. He tramples upon the stand and breaks it to pieces.

Honzo. It is I who will not have him for my son-in-law. You shallow-hearted woman!

Oishi. That is too much, Master Honzo. I will show you if this rusty sword of a ronin has an edge or not. Unworthy as I am, I am Yuranosuke’s wife; and you are such an enemy as I desire. Come, let us fight it out; let us appeal to arms.

Recitative. She tucks up her skirt, and taking down a spear from the wall, prepares to attack him.

Tonase and Konami. You are too hasty. Please, wait.

Recitative. As his wife and daughter rush forward to stop the fight, he tells them to be out of the way and pushes them aside to the right and left. As Oishi bears upon him instantly with the spear, he catches hold of the spear socket and thrusts it away with a twist; and as she turns her body and springs upon him to pierce both his legs, he kicks the glittering blade and the spear falls from her hands. And as she runs forward to pick it up, he catches her by the obi and pushes her down on the mat. Honzo puts his knee upon her; and Oishi gnashes her teeth with mortification. As the mother and daughter look on with palpitating hearts, Oboshi Rikiya rushes out, and before any one is aware that he has taken up the fallen spear, he thrusts it in through Honzo’s left side until it is almost out upon his right. With a groan, Honzo falls on his face. The mother and daughter cling to Honzo with grief and horror; Rikiya takes no notice of them and draws out the spear to give the finishing stroke. But Yuranosuke comes out and catches hold of the spear.

Yuranosuke. Stop, Rikiya, do not be over-hasty. It is long since we last met, Master Honzo. The object you sought for is gained and you have fallen by your son-in-law’s hand; and you are, no doubt, satisfied.

Recitative. Seeing that Yuranosuke has guessed his intention, Honzo opens his eyes.

Honzo. Great has been your anxiety to avenge your lord’s death, and putting the enemy off the scent by frequenting pleasure-quarters, you have gathered together all your confederates. As I think of it, it reminds me that your position should have been mine. Last spring, when the Shrine at Tsurugaoka was completed, my master Wakasanosuke was enraged beyond measure at the insults heaped upon him by Kono Moronao. He called me to him privately and told me all and declared that he would kill him at a stroke in the Palace on the following day. I saw from his determined look that the hot blood of youth could not be curbed. And as I was sure that Kono had insulted him because, being a man of moderate means, he did not give sufficient bribes to him, I went without my master’s knowledge to Moronao with gold and cloths in quantity beyond his station, and fawned upon him against my will, because I had my lord’s interests at heart. When Moronao had received the bribe, he begged pardon of my master, who was, then, unable to slay him, and his grudge against him completely vanished. Moronao’s anger, then, turned upon Lord Enya. That day I caught him from behind because I thought that if his enemy was not killed, he himself would escape the punishment of death; it was the greatest error of my life that I carried my thought too far. And finding that error would bring trouble upon my daughter, I desired to give this hoary head in atonement to my son-in-law. I sent my wife and daughter on before me, and I begged to be dismissed from my lord’s service on the ground of my flattery of Moronao, and taking a different route, I arrived in Kyoto two days before my wife and daughter. The flute-playing which I learnt in youth was useful to me, and in four days I saw clearly what were your intentions. If I fall by your hand, your grudge against me will be dispelled, and if you will, according to promise, let my daughter marry Rikiya, I will never, not through all our future lives, forget your goodness. See, I beg you with clasped hands. This life of mine that I thought not to give up except in my master’s cause I now yield for my daughter. Oh, have a feeling for the parent’s heart, Master Yura.

Recitative. He speaks, choking with tears; his wife and daughter are beside themselves with grief.

Konami. We thought not for a moment that things would come to this pass. It was only because we were too slow to die that you threw away your life. Hard is our destiny; and I tremble as I think what retribution will fall upon me. Oh, pardon me, father.

Recitative. She falls on the ground and cries bitterly; and in their sympathy for the feelings of the parents and daughter, Oboshi, his wife and son droop with sorrow.

Yuranosuke. Nay, nay, Master Honzo. The superior man, they say, hates the offence, but not the offender; and no doubt you feel resentment since we should have taken marriage and grudge separately and not confused them together. But we must shortly leave this world, and we will now show you our true motive.

Recitative. He flings wide open the sliding-doors which lead to the yard, and there stand two five-storied towers of snow which Yuranosuke has made in anticipation of coming events to foretell his final fate.

Tonase. That snow displays your intention, when you have avenged your lord’s death, to melt away without serving another master. Master Rikiya, too, with the same intention, divorced my daughter; and his apparent cruelty arose really from his pity. I grieve to think I bore you ill-will, Mistress Oishi.

Oishi. You speak truly, Mistress Tonase. To take a wife whom we cannot wish a long, happy wedded life since she must soon be a widow, never was such a matter for congratulation and sorrow together. It was because I did not wish for such a wedding that I spoke so cruelly and unfeelingly to you; how you must have hated me!

Tonase. No, no. In my anger I said that your son had become a merchant’s son-in-law and lost all sense of duty and justice. I am now both sorry and ashamed of it, and can hardly hold up my head before you. Mistress Oishi.

Oishi. Mistress Tonase.

Tonase. This child who is above the common in lineage and beauty, why is it that she is so unfortunate?

Recitative. Her voice is choked with tears. Honzo checks his tears.

Honzo. Ah, how I rejoice that my wish is fulfilled! No need to take account of the loyalty of Wu-tzu-hsiao,[5] who smiled at the insults heaped upon him when he was put to death for remonstrating with the King of Wu. The mirrors of loyalty are Hu-yang[6] in China and Oboshi in Japan; since antiquity up till now, there have only been these two men in China and Japan. To have become the wife of Rikiya who has one of these for his father, it is an achievement for the daughter of a samurai a hundred times greater than sharing the Imperial bed. To the husband of this high-achieving daughter I would make a wedding-present.

Recitative. With these words he takes it out of his bosom; and Rikiya receives it with a bow. He opens it, and what is this? It is not a list of presents, but a guide to Moronao’s house. The porch, outlying blocks, samurai’s room, water-gate, lumber-room, and fuel-shed, all are minutely marked in the plan. Yuranosuke takes it with obeisance.

Yuranosuke. I am deeply grateful. All our confederates are ready; but as we knew not yet the details of the enemy’s house, we postponed our journey. This map is truly as the secret books of Sun and Wu[7] and the Rikuto Sanryaku[8] to us. As we have decided to make a night-attack, we will get over the wall with a rope-ladder; and to steal into the house, we will take out the rain-shutters of the verandah and then we shall be in the sitting-room. We will cut it off and attack in this way.

Recitative. While father and son rejoice, Honzo retains his wits in spite of his wounds.

Honzo. Nay, nay, that is an error. Kono Moronao keeps strict guard. All his sliding-doors are bolted and his shutters hasped end to end so that you cannot wrench them open. If you attempt to break them down with hammers, the noise will put him on his guard. What will you do?

Yuranosuke. Oh, for that I have a good plan. If we are too absorbed, good ideas are apt to escape us; when I was returning from the pleasure-quarters, I suddenly thought of the snow-laden bamboo in my garden and with it the plan for taking out the shutters. I will now show you how I shall do it.

Recitative. In the garden stands a great, stout bamboo bending under the heavy weight of snow. Yuranosuke turns it round and puts the tip under the lintel; it is bent like a bow by the snow.

Yuranosuke. I shall make bows bent like this with strings and put the two ends between the lintel and the sill; and when the strings are cut all at once, the result will be as you will see.

Recitative. He shakes the snow off the branches; and as it falls, the bamboo straightens of itself and raises the lintel. The sliding-doors come off the groove and fall down one after another. In his admiration Honzo forgets his agony.

Honzo. Well done, well done. Ah, with a retainer possessed of such loyalty and military ability, Lord Enya should have been more discreet; and how deplorable was his inconsiderate conduct!

Recitative. As he hears Honzo’s regret, Yuranosuke is reminded of his lord’s hasty act; and when he reflects upon what he might have done if the loyalty he is now showing he could have displayed before his lord on the battle-field, his heart is filled to choking with mortification, and only tears escape him. Rikiya calmly stands up, and going up to his father, bows to him.

Rikiya. Now that, by Master Honzo’s kindness, we are informed of the arrangement of our enemy’s house, I will go down to Amakawaya Gihei’s house at Sakai in the province of Izumi and make arrangements for our equipment.

Yuranosuke. No, no. Everyone knows that I live in Yamashina, and if we muster our confederates here, they will attract attention. When we have arrived at Sakai, we will start thence together. You, with your mother, bride, and Mistress Tonase, will remain behind and put everything in order, so that you may leave nothing to cause regret afterwards. Do you understand? And then come down by the night-boat to-morrow. I will put on the disguise which Master Honzo has happily brought here.

Recitative. He puts on the robe and the wicker-hat. In gratitude to Honzo and to dispel his anxiety in the other world, he allows in his sympathy this one night of love to the bride. As he goes out softly singing, Oishi, prepared as she has been, is plunged in sorrow; and though she only wishes him success in his undertaking, her heart aches with grief as she refrains from saying much that she would fain say at this final parting. The wounded man knows that his last moment has come, and in his dying agony he answers not the cries of his daughter. Now the link between them is snapped, and they are parted for ever in this world. Loud lament the mother and daughter; and they both throw themselves upon the body and pray for his soul’s rest, —oh, the impermanence of love. The out-going feet stop awhile and the prayer to the Amida Buddha is heard in the tunes of the flute.