ply my hateful trade.
I will go up to the chapel as I am wont to do, and give my cormorants rest (Seeing the PRIESTS. ) What, have travelers entered here?
PRIEST
We are pilgrim-priests. We asked for lodging in the village. But they told us that it was not lawful for them to receive us, so we lay down in the shelter of this shrine.
FISHER
Truly, truly: I know of none in the village that could give you lodging.
PRIEST
Pray tell me, sir, what brings you here?
FISHER
Gladly. I am a cormorant-fisher. While the moon is shining I rest at this shrine; but when the moon sinks, I go to ply my trade.
PRIEST
Then you will not mind our lodging here. But, sir, this work of slaughter ill becomes you; for I see that the years lie heavy on you. Pray leave this trade and find yourself another means of sustenance.
FISHER
You say well. But this trade has kept me since I was a child. I cannot leave it now.
SECOND PRIEST
Listen. The sight of this man has brought back something to my mind. Down this river there is a place they call Rock-tumble. And there, when I passed that way three years ago, I met just such a fisherman as this. And when I told him this cormorant-fishing was reckoned a sin against life, I think he listened; for he brought me back to his house and lodged me with uncommon care.
FISHER
And you are the priest that came then?
SECOND PRIEST
Yes, I am he.
FISHER
That cormorant-fisher died.
PRIEST
How came he to die?
FISHER
Following his trade, more shame to him. Listen to his story and give his soul your prayers.
PRIEST
Gladly we will.
FISHER (seats himself facing the audience and puts down his torch)
You must know that on this river of Isawa, for a stretch of three leagues up stream and down, the killing of any living creature is forbidden. Now at that Rock-tumble you spoke of there were many cormorant-fishers who every night went secretly to their fishing. And the people of the place, hating the vile trade, made plans to catch them at their task. But he knew nothing of this; and one night he went there secretly and let his cormorants loose.
There was an ambush set for him; in a moment they were upon him. "Kill him!" they cried; "one life for many," was their plea. Then he pressed palm to palm. "Is the taking of life forbidden in this place? Had I but known it! But now, never again..." So with clasped hands he prayed and wept; but none helped him; and as fishers set their stakes they planted him deep in the stream. He cried, but no sound came. (Turning to the PRIEST suddenly.) I am the ghost of that fisherman.
PRIEST
Oh strange! If that be so, act out before me the tale of your repentance. Show me your sin and I will pray for you tenderly.
FISHER
I will act before your eyes the sin that binds me, the cormorant-fishing of those days. Oh give my soul your prayer!
PRIEST
I will.
FISHER (rising and taking up his torch)
The night is passing. It is fishing-time.
I must rehearse the sin that binds me.
PRIEST
I have read in tales of a foreign land *
How sin-laden the souls of the dead Have toiled at bitter tasks;
But strange, before my eyes
To see such penance done!
FISHER (describing his own action)
He waved the smeared torches.
PRIEST (describing the FISHER'S action)
Girt up his coarse-spun skirts.
FISHER (going to the "flute-pillar" and bending over as if opening a basket)
Then he opened the basket,
PRIEST
And those fierce island-birds
FISHER
Over the river-waves suddenly he loosed...
CHORUS
See them, see them clear in the torches' light
Hither and thither darting,
Those frightened fishes. *
Swift pounce the diving birds,
Plunging, scooping,
Ceaselessly clutch their prey:
In the joy of capture
Forgotten sin and forfeit
Of the life hereafter!
Oh if these boiling waters would be still,
Then would the carp rise thick
As goldfinch in a bowl.
Look how the little ayu leap *
Playing in the shallow stream.
Hem them in: give them no rest!
Oh strange!
The torches burn still, but
I will go up to the chapel as I am wont to do, and give my cormorants rest (Seeing the PRIESTS. ) What, have travelers entered here?
PRIEST
We are pilgrim-priests. We asked for lodging in the village. But they told us that it was not lawful for them to receive us, so we lay down in the shelter of this shrine.
FISHER
Truly, truly: I know of none in the village that could give you lodging.
PRIEST
Pray tell me, sir, what brings you here?
FISHER
Gladly. I am a cormorant-fisher. While the moon is shining I rest at this shrine; but when the moon sinks, I go to ply my trade.
PRIEST
Then you will not mind our lodging here. But, sir, this work of slaughter ill becomes you; for I see that the years lie heavy on you. Pray leave this trade and find yourself another means of sustenance.
FISHER
You say well. But this trade has kept me since I was a child. I cannot leave it now.
SECOND PRIEST
Listen. The sight of this man has brought back something to my mind. Down this river there is a place they call Rock-tumble. And there, when I passed that way three years ago, I met just such a fisherman as this. And when I told him this cormorant-fishing was reckoned a sin against life, I think he listened; for he brought me back to his house and lodged me with uncommon care.
FISHER
And you are the priest that came then?
SECOND PRIEST
Yes, I am he.
FISHER
That cormorant-fisher died.
PRIEST
How came he to die?
FISHER
Following his trade, more shame to him. Listen to his story and give his soul your prayers.
PRIEST
Gladly we will.
FISHER (seats himself facing the audience and puts down his torch)
You must know that on this river of Isawa, for a stretch of three leagues up stream and down, the killing of any living creature is forbidden. Now at that Rock-tumble you spoke of there were many cormorant-fishers who every night went secretly to their fishing. And the people of the place, hating the vile trade, made plans to catch them at their task. But he knew nothing of this; and one night he went there secretly and let his cormorants loose.
There was an ambush set for him; in a moment they were upon him. "Kill him!" they cried; "one life for many," was their plea. Then he pressed palm to palm. "Is the taking of life forbidden in this place? Had I but known it! But now, never again..." So with clasped hands he prayed and wept; but none helped him; and as fishers set their stakes they planted him deep in the stream. He cried, but no sound came. (Turning to the PRIEST suddenly.) I am the ghost of that fisherman.
PRIEST
Oh strange! If that be so, act out before me the tale of your repentance. Show me your sin and I will pray for you tenderly.
FISHER
I will act before your eyes the sin that binds me, the cormorant-fishing of those days. Oh give my soul your prayer!
PRIEST
I will.
FISHER (rising and taking up his torch)
The night is passing. It is fishing-time.
I must rehearse the sin that binds me.
PRIEST
I have read in tales of a foreign land *
How sin-laden the souls of the dead Have toiled at bitter tasks;
But strange, before my eyes
To see such penance done!
FISHER (describing his own action)
He waved the smeared torches.
PRIEST (describing the FISHER'S action)
Girt up his coarse-spun skirts.
FISHER (going to the "flute-pillar" and bending over as if opening a basket)
Then he opened the basket,
PRIEST
And those fierce island-birds
FISHER
Over the river-waves suddenly he loosed...
CHORUS
See them, see them clear in the torches' light
Hither and thither darting,
Those frightened fishes. *
Swift pounce the diving birds,
Plunging, scooping,
Ceaselessly clutch their prey:
In the joy of capture
Forgotten sin and forfeit
Of the life hereafter!
Oh if these boiling waters would be still,
Then would the carp rise thick
As goldfinch in a bowl.
Look how the little ayu leap *
Playing in the shallow stream.
Hem them in: give them no rest!
Oh strange!
The torches burn still, but
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