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, “When it is seen from morn to eve, E’en Awaji’s fair chain of hills Over ’gainst Sumiyoshi’s beach No more our eyes with wonder fills”? [Illustration: 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?