OBAA-SAN

I am no grandmother! I am no grandmother! I am no mother! O-Sode, can you not understand? I am no mother.--I am no wife.--There is no one.--I am only an old woman.--In the spring I see the world turn green and I hear the song of happy birds and feel the perfumed balmy air upon my cheek--and every spring that cheek is older and more wrinkled and I have always been alone.

I see the stars on a summer night and listen for the dawn--and there never has been a strong hand to touch me nor tiny fingers to reach out for me. I have heard the crisp autumn winds fight the falling leaves and I have known that long winter days and nights were coming--and I have always been alone--alone. I have pretended to you--what else could I do? Grandmother!

Grandmother! Every time you speak the name, the emptiness of my life stands before me like a royal Kakemono all covered with unliving people.

O-SODE-SAN

You never seemed to care.

OBAA-SAN

Did I not care! Grandmother! Grandmother! Why? Because I loved a weeping willow tree. Because to me it was real. It was my baby. But no lover ever came to woo. No words ever came to me.--Think you, O-Sode-San, that the song of birds in the branches is ease to an empty heart. Think you that the wind amongst the leaves soothes the mad unrest in here. (_She beats her breast_) I have no one--no one. I talk to my weeping willow tree--but there is no answer--no answer, O-Sode-San--only stillness--and yet--sometimes I think I hear a sigh.--Grandmother! Grandmother! There! Is that enough? I've bared my heart to you. Go spread the news--I am lonely and old--old.--I have always been lonely. Go spread the news.

O-KATSU-SAN

No, Obaa-San. We shall not spread the news. No one shall know.

O-SODE-SAN

But--we pity you.

OBAA-SAN

I need no pity.--Now my heart is unlocked. The dread Gaki of Kokoru who feeds upon unrest can come to me and feed upon my pain. I care not.

THE TREE

Hai! Hai! Hai!

O-KATSU-SAN

Someone sighs.

OBAA-SAN

Yes. It is my tree. Perhaps there, too, someone in deep distress is imprisoned--as I am imprisoned in this body.--Hai! You do not know. You do not know!

O-SODE-SAN

Obaa-San--we have been hurting. I never knew--I am sorry, Obaa-San.

O-KATSU-SAN

You have been lonely, Obaa-San, but you have always been lonely. I know the having and I know the losing.

O-SODE-SAN

Ay. 'Tis better to long for love than to have it--and then lose. Look at me, whom the villagers call the bitter one. He came to me so long ago.--It was spring, Obaa-San, and perfume filled the air and birds were singing and his voice was like the voice from the sky-dome--all clear and wonderful. Together we saw the cherry trees bloom--_once_: and on a summer night we saw the wonder of the firefly fete. My heart was young and life was beautiful. We watched the summer moon--and when the autumn came--Ai!

Ai! Ai! Obaa-San.--I knew a time of love--and oh, the time of hopelessness!

And I shut my heart. I did not see, Obaa-San.

OBAA-SAN

You knew his love, O-Sode-San. You touched his hand.

O-KATSU-SAN

But what is that? To her--my little girl--I gave all my dreams. I felt her baby hands in mine and in the night I could reach out to her. I lived for her. And then, one day--Obaa-San, I had known the joy of motherhood and I had known the ecstasy of--child--and now--Her little life with me was only a dream of spring, but still my back is warm with the touch of her babyhood. The little toys still dance before my eyes. Oh, that was long ago.--Now all is black.

OBAA-SAN

All blackness can never fill a mother's heart.--O-Katsu-San, you have known the baby's hand in yours. But I am old--and I have never known, can never know.--I'd go to the lowest h.e.l.ls if once I might but know the touch of my own child's hand.

THE TREE

Hai! Hai! Hai

OBAA-SAN

Just once--for one short day--to fill the empty place in my heart that has always been empty--and a pain--

O-SODE-SAN

Who is that man, Obaa-San?

OBAA-SAN

There? That is a stranger seeking for Kyushu.

O-KATSU-SAN

He seems to wish to speak to you.

OBAA-SAN

A strange man. 'Twas he who seemed to make me unlock my heart to you.

O-SODE-SAN

Then shall we go.--And we'll return, Obaa-San.

OBAA-SAN

Grandmother!

O-KATSU-SAN

We'll laugh no more.