Eminent Authors of Contemporary Japan/Volume 2/It Will be Fine Tomorrow

by Kokushi Kishida

It Will be Fine Tomorrow
by
Kokushi Kishida

(A Play in One Act),

Translated by
Eiji Ukai and Eric S. Bell.

 

Kokushi Kishida

 

Kokushi Kishida

Kokushi Kishida, the author of the following drama, was born in Tokyo, in the 23rd year of Meiji (1880). His father was from Kishu Province and was the Commander of an artillery regiment.

Kishida’s younger life was passed in Tokyo, and after graduating from the military schools at Nagoya and at Tokyo, he joined the colours at Kyushu. But for reasons of his own, the young officer gave up his army life, and again studied French literature at the Tokyo Imperial University. In 1919 he went over to France, where he experinced a wanderer’s life for some four years, and with his father’s death he returned home to be a writer and a lecturer at some colleges.

Besides a number of translations he has already published many one-act plays of his own vivacity. His description of a young woman’s psychology is unique, and with the naivete and smartness of his style, his writings never fail to make the reader (or audience) grasp something fresh and memorable. He is one of the most promising writers of the younger generation.

His works of fame are:—

“The Autumn in Tyroll,” “Old Playthings,” “A Paper Baloon,” “The Oldest Chestnut Tree in the Village,” “A Virtuous Woman,” etc., etc.

Very recently he wrote a novel, “Miss Yuri Hatae,” and is much expected in this direction too.

E. Ukai

It Will be Fine Tomorrow

Characters

• The husband.
• The wife.
• The maidservant of an inn.
• A manservant.

Time

A rainy day in summer.

Place

A room in a seaside inn overlooking the sea.

Part One

When the curtain rises, the husband is seen lying face downwards on the floor matting of a room in a Japanese inn. He is imitating the gestures of a swimmer, and is practising various swimming-strokes. The wife is holding a bundle of picture post-cards in her hand, and is wondering whom she shall address them to.

A maidservant enters.

The husband suddenly stops his antics, and pretends to be reading a newspaper.

• Maidservant.—This rainy weather is awful day after day! You must feel very miserable. I am extremely sorry for you, Madam.
• Wife.—Yes, but if we really wanted to bathe, we could, you know. Listening to the quiet pattering of die rain is not so uninteresting, and as it is summertime, we are quite glad to get such cool weather.
• Maidservant.—Yes, Madam. The rainy weather is the best because it brings coolness, but if it were fine and bright you would feel less inclined to remain indoors.
• Wife.—Yes, that is true. But in such cool weather you are not so troubled with guests, are you?
• Maidservant.—No, Madam, even now a few of our guests are leaving here. I’m told it is quite cool in Tokyo too, lately …
• Wife.—I don’t think so. It was very sultry there when we left. In fact it was so oppressive that we thought by coming here we should get away from the heat, and right away from our daily routine.
• Maidservant.—Yes, Madam. But last night one of our clerks went up to Tokyo on business, and he telephoned this morning from there to say that, owing to the heavy rain which had been falling since the previous night, it is so cool that he felt quite cold in his summer-suit.
• Husband.—All right, that is enough about Tokyo, if you don’t mind. We came here to forget about it, to get away from things and to give our minds a complete rest.
• Maidservant.—I beg your pardon, Sir. Have you anything for me to do?
• Husband.—If we want you we shall call, so you may go.
• Wife.—You needn’t be so sharp, my dear. But …?
• Maid.—Certainly, Sir. (She goes out.)
• Wife.—For heaven’s sake stop snapping at the poor maid just because you don’t like the bad weather. I know it is unpleasant, but if you want to swim so badly, why don’t you go out and do so?
• Husband.—Swim in the rain? If anyone saw me, they’d say I was crazy!
• Wife.—It’s far more idiotic to swim on the matting!
• Husband.—Then shall we go back to Tokyo?
• Wife.—No, let us stay for another day. Look! The sky over there seems much brighter. Perhaps it will be fine tomorrow.
• Husband.—By all accounts it seems to be very cool in Tokyo. In the post-cards you are sending, you had better mention that it is hot here, and that so far we have not bathed yet, will you?
• Wife.—This is what I have written to Miss Yuri; ‘Is it very hot in Tokyo? It is so cool here that when we go out in the morning or evening we can’t do without haori …’
• Husband.—When we go out in the morning or evening?
• Wife.—Well, let me finish, my dear! … ‘and in the daytime we are not feeling the heat at all, as we have such lots of bathes! …’
• Husband.—Good gracious!
• Wife.—(continuing reading) ‘We have got so sunburnt during the last few days that we are almost ashamed for any one to see us …’
• Husband.—Oh, I say …!
• Wife.—Be quiet! ‘We have just been talking of hiring a boat for a row …’
• Husband.—Oh, gracious! Have you written the same thing on each of your cards?
• Wife.—Yes, I have said almost the same thing to everyone.
• Husband.—Whom have you been writing to anyway?
• Wife.—Well, this one is for Miss Yuri, and this I am sending to mother. This one is going to Miss Ko, and this for the wife of our next-door neighbour … and also I have sent one to that poor woman who lives behind our house, and …
• Husband.—Well, I’m glad I am here, and happy that I shan’t be one of the persons who gets your cards. I’m rather sorry for the man whose woman friend goes away in the summer! But, look! The sky is clearing, and it is getting quite bright.
• Wife.—Yes, the rain seems to be over. How lucky!
• Husband.—Do you happen to know what the name of this swimming-stroke is? (He imitates some stroke.)
• Wife.—It’s the frog-stroke, isn’t it?
• Husband.—Yes, that’s right. And this?
• Wife.—Is it any kind of swimming-stroke at all?
• Husband.—Of course it is. It is called ‘Suifu style,’ … and this is the over-arm stroke …
• Wife.—Which one are you going to teach me?
• Husband.—Well, the frog-stoke is the easiest … What about trying to do it now?
• Wife.—Certainly not! Not here!
• Husband.—It’s a good chance to practice it here.
• Wife.—I said no!
• Husband.—How silly! You said you had never bathed in the sea, didn’t you?
• Wife.—Yes.
• Husband.—Well, you shouldn’t be afraid of trying everything so that you will get used to the water when you go in. But even if you can’t swim, it is a delightful feeling to float on the waves. The sensation is almost indescribable … If you want to compare it to anything at all, … well, we might compare it to that feeling of dreamy ecstasy that lovers experience when exchanging their first vows of love!
• Wife.—Oh, stop saying such stupid things!
• Husband.—Why is it stupid? You always look at everything in that way, you are far too prosaic. After all, both our lives are rather insipid. I spend from morning till night bending over sheets of paper, counting and counting, and you only move backwards and forwards between the oven and your sewing! All the dreams we ever had have gone. There is no more talk of the cherished future … we are already forgetting ourselves!
• Wife.—(does not answer.)
• Husband.—The small amount of money and leisure we have derived has enabled us to stand up and face a hope as great and limitless as that vast sea out there … Just look at it! … Are you listening to what I am saying?
• Wife.—(remains silent.)
• Husband.—Have you ever longed for the sun as much as you do now? … You are a woman, and you do not realise that the fire that was almost extinguished has suddenly begun to burn again in my heart … it has burst into flames … can’t you realise it?
• Wife.—(glances quickly at her husband.)
• Husband.—Why do you look at me like that? … It is not the continuous rain of the past few days which has made me speak like this? (The bell of the telephone on the desk rings.)
• Husband.—(becoming calmer) I have no use for that wretched telephone, I’m only thinking of your fresh and beautiful figure … (The bell rings again violently.)
• Husband.—Disgusting! (He takes up the receiver.) Hello! Hello! Who is it? What? … Yes, it is … From Tokyo? … Who? … Oh, exchange, please don’t cut me off … please … Hello! Hello! … Yes, it is … Oh is it you?
• Wife.—Who is it?
• Husband.—(aside) Kobayashi.
• Wife.—Mr. Kobayashi?
• Husband.—(continuing his conversation into the telephone) No, no, nothing of the sort! What nonsense! … Yes, … What? … Yes, very good! … Oh, yes, the sea is lovely here … What? … … Yes, she is … But I’m not quite at my ease with her.
• Wife.—What are you talking about?
• Husband.—(continuing into the phone) She is here now, yes. She is glaring at me.
• Wife.—Stop talking such nonsense!
• Husband.—She wants to know what we are talking about … Ha, ha! … Is it hot in Tokyo? … Indeed! ever since yesterday? … It is much cooler here, but we are not afraid of the sea, we are just going out there now.
• Wife.—Give my kind regards to Mrs. Kobayashi.
• Husband.—(still talking to his friend) Indeed! That is rather unexpected. It must rather worry you … I’m sorry … My wife wishes to be remembered to Mrs. Kobayashi … Yes, we’re getting along very well. Is the Director there? … Pshaw! … That’s awkward! … Tell him I will return as soon as I feel like it … Well, good-bye! … Yes, yes, all right … Good-bye!
• Wife.—What does he want?
• Husband.—Oh, nothing! … See, the rain has stopped. Let’s go out now. (He takes off his clothes hurriedly, and is seen wearing a bathing-suit underneath.)
• Wife.—(rises to her feet rather gaily.) Are you going out like that?
• Husband.—Of course I am. The sea is quite near, just across the garden … Did you expect that we should have to take a taxi to get to it?
• Wife.—What shall I wear?
• Husband.—The same as I’m wearing.
• Wife.—But I haven’t got my bathing-suit on yet.
• Husband.—Then put it on quickly.
• Wife.—Well, please go out of the room.
• Husband.—No, carry your bathing-clothes to the dressing-shed on the beach and change there.
• Wife.—Won’t people stare?
• Husband.—Oh, be quick! It may begin to rain again if you don’t hurry.

  (They both leave the room. Just about as long as it would take them to get downstairs, the rain begins to fall again. The sound of a phonograph is heard in some near by room. As if stepping to the time of the music, they both enter the room again, and without speaking a word, they seat themselves and gaze vacantly out into the sky. Both heave a deep sigh, which is followed by a long silence.

  The husband then goes to his bag and takes a guide-book from it, and commences to turn over its leaves. The wife stretches for a pillow and prepares to take a nap.)

• Husband.—Oh, for goodness sake don’t go to sleep! If you do, what on earth am I going to do to kill time?
• Wife.—You had better sleep too.
• Husband.—Isn’t it rather unreasonable to expect me to go to sleep now after sleeping continuously for fourteen hours from 7 last night until 9 this morning? As if we couldn’t find anything to do but sleep! You seem to forget that we are at one of the famous summer-resorts in Shonan, and that we are paying as much as five yen a day at this hotel after taking a long and expensive train-journey from Tokyo. Do you object to trying to find some other way of amusing ourselves?
• Wife.—But if we can’t bathe, whatever can we do?
• Husband.—Instead of giving up everything just because we are unable to bathe, surely we can still find some other kind of amusement or diversion.
• Wife.—If you want something to do, why don’t you take your umbrella and go for a walk? I want to stay here and rest.

  (The wife turns over on her side, and prepares to sleep.)

• Husband.—Take an umbrella? Why, you know quite well that we haven’t got one with us.
• Wife.—Go and borrow one then.
• Husband.—In the meantime do you intend to sleep?
• Wife.—Yes.
• Husband.—The husband borrows an umbrella to go for a walk by himself in the rain, while his wife leisurely takes a nap. It certainly is a joke!
• Wife.—That is why I didn’t want to come to such a place. I would rather have bought some new dresses … Don’t you remember how I begged you …
• Husband.—All right! Don’t repeat it! I quite understand. Anyhow, now I would rather like to make a trip to some other place.
• Wife.—Good gracious! Wherever to?
• Husband.—Oh, anywhere, a trip round the country somewhere.
• Wife.—(makes no reply.)
• Husband.—I’ll visit the Beppu Hot Springs.
• Wife.—With only that guide-book to assist you?
• Husband.—Of course! Why not? No trip could be less expensive. After all, a guide-book is rather wonderful! After scanning the time-table, and reading of the arrival hours of the different trains, you begin to feel just as if you had already begun to travel.
• Wife.—(Does not answer.)
• Husband.—It’s rather interesting that, after finding the name of a station where a box-lunch can be purchased, one can almost smell the appetising odour of the food in it.
• Wife.—I am afraid it isn’t very interesting to me.
• Husband.—Isn’t it? You don’t seem to find anything very interesting. You are even so careless about things as to allow a mosquito to sting you on the bottom of your foot. Does it still hurt?
• Wife.—Oh, I don't know.
• Husband.—The famous Onuma Park is mentioned also for its fine scenery … or it wouldn’t be a bad idea to visit Hokkaido … Well, where would be the best place to go?
• Wife.—My dear, if you are going anywhere else, for goodness sake do so without talking so much about it!
• Husband.—Can I arrange a trip in silence? It will surely be a dumb sort of a business if I do!

  (The music of the phonograph stops.)

• Husband.—(continuing) Wouldn’t you like something nice to eat?
• Wife.—(does not answer.)
• Husband.—Are you going to sleep?
• Wife.—(still remains silent)
• Husband.—Surely you can’t be asleep, for you were stifling your yawns only a moment ago.
• Wife.—(makes no answer.)
• Husband.—Are yon determined to pretend you are asleep?
• Wife.—……
• Husband.—Then shall I tell you something that will surprise you? Don’t you mind?
• Wife.—……
• Husband.—All right! I shall! But promise not to shriek!
• Wife.—……
• Husband.—A few days ago I met an old sweetheart of mine. I suppose you didn’t know about it, eh? I didn’t mention it till now because I didn’t want to worry you about it, but I think it is time that you were told … Oh, you needn’t make such an effort to hold your breath!
• Wife.—……
• Husband.—It seems that she is still unmarried … She has such innocent eyes, and she has remained as unchanged and pure as the expression of her eyes. She asked me if I ever thought about her now, and I answered … well, do you know what I told her?
• Wife.—……
• Husband.—Oh, look here! Does all I have been saying cause you no concern?
• Wife.—(moves a little, and scratches under her arm.)
• Husband.—It’s not the time to scratch! Listen to what I’m saying! … What do you suppose I told her? … I said, ‘I’m tremendously glad you have thought about me so much, but I am hardly worthy of your thoughts and affection, because I am not free,’ and this is what she answered, ‘I’m quite aware of it. Only yesterday I saw you and your wife together, looking very happy. I saw you as you passed along the corridor.’ She looks gentle but very intelligent. I didn’t know what to say to her, so I merely remarked that such women as you could be found everywhere.
• Wife.—(Gives a long sigh.)
• Husband.—Thinking afterwards that my answer had been rather vague, I continued, ‘Such a dull kind of woman is rather rare.’ And what I said was quite true, even though you may be angry with me for saying it.
• Wife.—(adjusts her pillow a little.)
• Husband.—Then she said rather gently, ‘The happier it must be for a woman who lives with a man like you, I should think.’ When I asked her why, she laughed but would not answer the question.
• Wife.—(begins to snore a little.)
• Husband.—Your suspicious snoring shows that what I have told you has sunk in! Now, answer whatever you like, I’d like to hear what you have to say!
• Wife.—……
• Husband.—You won’t answer! Oh, well then, I’ll go on … We became very intimate again, and after quite a long story, which I’ll skip, she begged me to visit her house after I got back to Tokyo. She told me her life was very lonely, for she had only an old housekeeper for company … I told her that instead of waiting until our return to the capital, I would very much like to talk with her … in her room … as I was sick and tired of having nothing to do every day. I also told her that I was tired of my wife, and that it would be a relief for me to get away from her for an hour or so. She told me not to do that as it would be quite impossible for her to talk freely with me in a place where you were near us both. She said, ‘I have no heart to talk to you here … My house in Tokyo is in rather a lonely part of the city … it would take a stranger quite a long time to find it …’ She suddenly broke off with what she was saying, and clutched wildly at the verandah railing. She was weirdly white, for she had just come from her bath! … She seemed to be waiting for something … her lips were deliciously red, and as she tried not to speak, they quivered intensely. Her eyes gazed far away as if they were recalling past memories and associations.
• Wife.—(turns over on her side, facing her husband. Her mouth is slightly opened as is natural sometimes to one in deep. Her upturned nostrils enable you to peep into their inner recesses.)
• Husband.—(seeing her facing him, turns away.) How brazen you are to turn over on your side like that! (A sharp cry of “O-kin San” is heard from a maidservant in the corridor outside.)
• Wife.—(suddenly wakes up, and after yawning, rises to her feet.) Is the bath prepared yet?
• Husband.—(still very suspicious as to whether his wife has really been asleep or not, but nevertheless rather surprised by her natural manner of waking) Have you been asleep?
• Wife.—(without answering, takes up a towel and a piece of soap, and after moving across the room for her toilet-case, she goes out.)
• Husband.—(dumbfounded and amazed gazes at her as she leaves.)

Part Two

Time, rather late the following afternoon.

(The Husband, in his shirt-sleeves, is packing his trunk, making preparations to leave.

The Wife is drying her towel over a charcoal brazier.)

• Maid.—You needn’t hurry; there’s plenty of time to catch your train.
• Husband.—(taking the bill from her) We shall come here again before long, and ……
• Maid.—Yes, Sir; we hope you will come here often … but couldn’t you stay here for another day? It looks as if it were going to be fine tomorrow.
• Husband.—Yes, I’d like to very much, but I have some business to attend to in Tokyo … we have had a thorough rest here, and after all, that was the main reason we came … Please take this. (He hands her the money for payment of the hotel bill.

  The maid takes it, and after paying some polite compliment, she goes out.)

• Wife.—How much did the account come to?
• Husband.—Oh, it was rather cheap, my dear.
• Wife.—As we expected?
• Husband.—Well, yes … Shall we give rather a generous tip?
• Wife.—Nonsense! I don’t think that’s at all necessary. It would be better to spend the money on an extra day here.
• Husband.—You say it as if it were a very easy matter … But, look! It’s getting quite fine again.
• Wife.—But, couldn’t you manage to take just one more day from your office?
• Husband.—If I hadn’t received that telephone message a little while ago, I might have been able to … I feel as if I were tied to the office by a rope. At any rate my absence has evidently convinced them that I am indispensable. When I get to the office tomorrow morning I’ll let them see I am not too pleased to have been called back. I can see the manager coming to me with all kinds of flattering remarks, trying to smooth things over, but I’ve determined to be rather blunt with him.
• Wife.—I suppose that will give you a feeling of satisfaction. Can I tell our friends about this summer trip? But if they come across my bathing-suit which has never been in the water, I’ll feel rather foolish!
• Husband.—How silly! If you are afraid of such a thing, why not hold it over the steam of the kettle? You can soon make it look as if it had been used. Do you think it sounds like boasting to say that you have bathed?
• Wife.—But, we have been very unlucky, haven’t we?
• Husband.—Yes, rather. But for goodness sake don’t look at the dismal side of our holiday only. After all it hasn’t been so terribly unpleasant loafing about indoors during the continuous rain, and even if we haven’t been able to bathe, it is not such a very distressing story to tell anyone!
• Wife.—But think of the good spirits you were in when we started!
• Husband.—Naturally; but that is the case with others as well. No one would think much of us if we had started out for a holiday with glum faces as if we were expecting something unlucky to happen to us. You and your family take things too seriously altogether … your mother, your elder sister and Miss Ko …

  (Hearing steps approaching down the corridor, they stop talking.

  A maidservant appears with some change from the bill.)

• Maid.—I’m sorry to have kept you so long. Here is your change. Sir.
• Husband.—(picks out coins from the change and hands them to the maid) Will you give this tip to your clerk, but I am sorry it is rather small.
• Maid.—It is very kind of you, Sir, but it’s our rule never to accept tips from our patrons.
• Husband.—Oh, really! I’m sorry … what shall I do about it then? … Oh, well … you had better keep it yourself.
• Maid.—It is really very kind of you. Sir.
• Husband.—By the way, what is the name of that other girl who waited upon us several times? I mean the one who walks rather heavily?
• Wife.—Oh, how rude you are!
• Husband.—It isn’t rude. She does walk heavily, doesn’t she? … Anyhow, please call her … and also that young man in charge of the bath … and, by the way, is he dumb?
• Maid.—No, Sir. he is only rather silent. He never talks to anyone unless it is absolutely necessary, Sir.
• Husband.—Such a fellow will never find it necessary!
• Maid.—Please tell me when your bags are ready, Sir, and I will help you with them. (She goes out.)
• Wife.—How much did you give her?
• Husband.—Don’t worry about that, my dear. Anyone would think you were wife of the manager of some big company since you have been away from Tokyo.
• Wife.—Oh, I wish I could feel that such a thing was true when we got back there.
• Husband.—Perhaps so. Anyway don’t behave, when you get back, as if you were the wife of a poor clerk!
• Wife.—But I can’t help feeling that I am, all the same.
• Husband.—What do you mean by ‘all the same’? Are you trying to make me mad? If you talk like that I will start to lecture you again!
• Wife.—No more lectures, please, dear! No, thank you. I’ve had quite enough of your lectures!
• Husband.—Well then, listen to me; … tell me plainly … have you begun to understand my disposition yet? I want to feel that you understand me thoroughly, my dear … After all … you are an unusually good-natured woman … Why do you make faces?
• Wife.—(remains silent.)
• Husband.—Oh, well. I’ll not flatter you … but really you are just the kind of woman for me.
• Wife.—I’m glad!
• Husband.—You have beauty! … I consider myself a very fortunate man.

  (Just then the maid with the heavy foot-steps enters the room followed by the round-shouldered bath-attendant.)

• Husband.—Ah, you have both been very kind to us. Here is something for each of you.
• Maid.—You are very kind. Sir. (She takes the tip. The bath-attendant takes his tip, and bows silently.)
• Maid.—Can I do anything for you, Sir?
• Husband.—Thanks, but there is nothing more I want. (The maid murmurs a few polite words and goes out. The bath-attendant also begins to leave.)
• Husband.—Oh, will you wait a moment, please? Were you born near here?

  (The bath-attendant stares vaguely at the husband.)

• Husband.—(continuing) Were you born in this village?

  (The bath-attendant bows slightly.)

• Husband.—Is there no news of interest around here?

  (The bath-attendant grins.) They speak very highly of you here.

  (The bath-attendant looks at him suspiciously.)

  Well, can’t you answer me? (The bath-attendant remains silent.)

  What are you thinking about? (The bath-attendant still remains silent.)

• Wife.—(interrupting) Isn’t it time to start, my dear?

  (The husband gazes hard at the bath-attendant.)

• Wife.—Oh, you have said enough, let him go.

  (The bath attendant bows and goes out.)

• Wife.—(indignantly) He is as close as an oyster!

  (A long silence.)

  (continuing) But don’t you think you were rather rude? (The husband suddenly bursts into laughter. She looks at him.)

• Husband.—What impression did my remarks make upon him, do you think?
• Wife.—He probably thinks you are rather an extraordinary sort of person!
• Husband.—We often get what we don’t expect.
• Wife.—Take care, my dear; if you treat people as if you considered them fools, they will scorn you!
• Husband.—That was not my intention at all at first. To tell the truth, I thought that perhaps such a silent man might give some rather bright answer to my questions. Even now I can’t help thinking that he is hiding something by his silence. He may even have invented something great which no one knows about. He might have some deep insight into human nature, and may guess at some hidden secret of our married life … something which we ourselves may not be aware of.
• Wife.—Again you are allowing your imagination to overstretch itself!
• Husband.—Well, let us get ready to go now. Are you sure you have left nothing?

  (At this moment the clerk of the inn appears.)

• Clerk.—Are you leaving now? … We are extremely sorry the weather has been so bad while you have been here.
• Husband.—But we are very glad that it has cleared up just when we are starting back.
• Clerk.—Yes, I’m sure that it will soon be quite fine, Sir.
• Husband.—I sincerely hope so … Will you be so kind as to carry this bag, this basket, and these small things downstairs for us?
• Clerk.—Certainly, Sir. Have you got your railway tickets?
• Husband.—(taking out a bank-note) No, not yet, but will you be so good as to get them for us?
• Clerk.—Certainly, Sir. … two, second-class to Tokyo?
• Husband.—No, two third!
• Clerk.—(bows, and goes out.)
• Wife.—Our return journey seems as if it were going to be rather miserable.
• Husband.—Nonsense! If you think of all that are waiting for us in Tokyo you wouln’t talk in that way. Think of that fruit-shop, Sembikiya, … of the ‘Overland,’ … and think of that nice summer scarf!
• Wife.—What scarf?
• Husband.—And lots of other nice things.
• Wife.—Yes, many things quite beyond our reach!
• Husband.—Oh, rubbish! No harm if they are beyond our reach. Take sea-bathing, for instance. Until recently it was one of the things we considered beyond our reach, and yet it has been realised!
• Wife.—Do you think it has?
• Husband.—Yes … well … it would have been if it hadn’t rained!
• Wife.—It would be much better if we would stay here a little longer.
• Husband.—Perhaps so. But you are never satisfied. It has been quite as profitable gazing out at the sea as bathing in it. It is quite easy to imagine that you have bathed every day since you have been here, my dear.
• Wife.—(makes no reply.)
• Husband.—After all, the sea is nothing more than a huge salt-water bath, and by sitting in a bath-tub of cold water you can get just about the same sensation.
• Wife.—But there must be a very different feeling when bathing in the sea … a feeling of expanse!
• Husband.—Just exactly the same as in a tub. You can expand your limbs in a tub as well as in the sea. If you shut your eyes tight, and imagine the glorious blue sky above you, there is no difference!
• Wife.—But how could I possibly feel the waves that roll in one after the other and break on the beach after they have passed?
• Husband.—Oh, as far as that goes, you can get the swaying movement of the waves, if you rock you body to and fro. After all, it is rather adventurous to swim in the sea. Every year two or three cases of drowning are reported from each seaside resort, and also when you are learning to dive, it is very easy to lose your gold-rimmed glasses like Mr. Kawakami did … And wasn’t it Mrs. Kaneda who lost her pearl ring while bathing?
• Wife.—I heard that it was only an imitation.
• Husband.—It doesn’t matter whether it was imitation or not! Anyhow, lots of people get their toes cut badly by shells or broken glass … and saltwater gets into your ears and damages the eardrums!
• Wife.—Again, it is merely a case of sour grapes with you. Before we came you couldn’t say enough to me about the wonders of the seaside during summer, and now, listen to you! It is an extraodinary contradiction!
• Husband.—I only say it to comfort you.
• Wife.—I would feel better pleased if you were a little disappointed! Such pretence does neither of us much good. It would be far better if we both showed a little regret.
• Husband.—All right! Now that you feel like that, the problem is solved. Let us therefore put the excursion behind us as a failure, and instead, let us live in hopes of making up for it in some other way before long! Do you agree to that, my dear?
• Wife.—(does not answer.)
• Husband.—Aren’t you anxious to hear what I mean?
• Wife.—I know it.
• Husband.—Then, what is it?
• Wife.—There is no need to say!
• Husband.—You’ve misunderstood me, or do you mean this … you remember the other day our neighbour asked us to take care of his phonograph for him while he was away from home? … Now he has asked us to keep it in order for him so that it will not get rusty.
• Wife.—Yes.
• Husband.—Do you remember how we used to set it going night after night, playing each record one by one? And how we learnt the “Song of the Volga Boatman” from memory?
• Wife.—And ‘Souvenir’!
• Husband.—Yes, and that takes me back to my hatred of getting up early.
• Wife.—Yes, I know, for you got angry with me every morning and grumbled at me when I woke you.
• Husband.—Well, it is most annoying to be wakened up in that way every morning! I have always wished to experience the happiness of being wakened unconsciously and naturally by the strains of some beautiful song near my bed-side … the song of a girl. I knew that you would never help me, so I determined to use that phonograph for the purpose.
• Wife.—Yes, I remember……
• Husband.—Don’t interrupt! Let me finish what I was saying. I remember one night I asked you to wake me up the next morning by playing some melody on the phonograph close to my pillow, instead of thundering in my ear as you usually do, ‘It’s time to get up!’ I promised you that as soon as the record finished I would jump out of bed. That night I tumbled quickly into bed, and prayed to God to send an early dawn with a clear sky. I remember going to sleep, still feeling the pleasant effects of a bottle of beer I had drunk for my supper.
• Wife.—Yes, and the next morning I did just as you had asked me.
• Husband.—Yes, for once you did keep your word, and put on ‘Souvenir’ to wake me up.
• Wife.—And as soon as it was finished, you asked me to play it all over again.
• Husband.—Yes, I admit it, but I assure you that it was not an excuse to lie in bed any longer. It was the fascinating melody of the violin breaking into my dreams so gently which filled me with intense happiness … even more than I had anticipated. But I am sorry to say that the impression only lasted for a few moments, for as I came to my senses, it gradually dawned on me that it was only my wife playing a phonograph near my bed. The idea of it was an utter disappointment, and I at once buried my head under the blankets.
• Wife.—You were crying a little then, weren’t you?
• Husband.—You thought so, did you? … Well, as a matter of fact, while you played the melody again I began to think about our happiness, our dreams, and about life.
• Wife.—You were very bright and happy during breakfast that morning.
• Husband.—Was I? … And you promised to put a record on for me every morning if it showed such good results … but I told you not to do so.
• Wife.—But it is funny that ever since that very morning you have learned to get up without having to be called twice … though quite recently you have got back into your old habit again.
• Husband.—Although you may not believe it, while I was hiding my head under the blankets, I was thinking profoundly … I realised how disgusting it was of me to lie there in bed like that! I almost made up my mind to kick the wretched phonograph off the chair, to spring up, and to run away with you to some lonely mountain, and to hide there away from everyone. A great tumult was going on in my mind, just as anyone feels deep self-reproach after committing some great sin. I experienced a feeling of deep repentance, and a kind of self-hatred. But I didn’t want you to know how I felt at the time, and tried to calm myself by appearing undisturbed.
• Wife.—I really don’t know if you are talking seriously or not, my dear.
• Husband.—Neither do I! (A long silence)
• Wife.—I often used to feel very lonely, but somehow I got so used to it that I don’t worry about it so much nowadays.
• Husband.—What’s the use of worrying? Later on you will learn what I am intending to do. I am thinking only of how to make you happy.
• Wife.—You are talking nonsense again!
• Husband.—Don’t you believe what I say? Well, I shall tell you what I am expecting to do. You remember that when we went to Ogikubo some time ago, you saw a pretty house there surrounded with lawn. Do you remember saying how much you would love to live in such a home?
• Wife.—What kind of a house was it?
• Husband.—Have you forgotten it? Don’t you remember … only last spring … how you noticed a dog jumping up and being caressed by a young woman?
• Wife.—Oh, yes, when we were searching for our present house?
• Husband.—Yes, yes. I fancy that house we saw then had about four rooms. How much do you suppose one would have to pay for such a house?
• Wife.—(does not reply.)
• Husband.—We would need about ¥2,000 if we wanted to buy it. (At this moment the first maidservant appears.)
• Maid.—Excuse me, but it is time for you to go.
• Husband.—Oh, very well. (He rises mechanically. The wife remains where she is sitting, and gazes absentmindedly towards the sea upon which the dusk and haze of evening are creeping.)

 

The End