The herald reappeared, delivered a speech no less mysterious than the first, and the curtain rose. A scene from the Onono-Komat-Ki was now given. Onono-Komat was a lovely maiden attached to the Court of Kioto. Having a passion for poetry, she devoted herself to study, and composed verses; but in her love of perfection, the poem once written, she washed it out and began again. Young men fell in love with her beauty, and persecuted her with their attentions. She repulsed them, and continued her favorite studies. But the persistent suitors could not pardon her disdain; by base calumny they brought her into disgrace. The inspired maiden left the palace, and wandered at random. By degrees she became poorer and poorer; but her love of poetry never failed. She contemplated the beauties of nature, and sang of them with rare perfection of style. Age came; her hair turned white; she was completely destitute, roaming from village to village, leaning on a staff, a basket on her arm, and living on alms. Children gathered round her when she sat at the gates of a temple; she smiled sweetly on them, and taught them pretty verses. Sometimes a bonze would respectfully ask leave to copy one of the poems stowed away in her basket. The inspired singer died; then only was hatred silenced, and her glory shone forth. She was deified, and her memory is reverenced by all men. After representing various portions of the play descriptive of the life of Onono-Komat, a burlesque interlude was played, and then the Taiko-Ki at last began. The curtain went up on a vast scene representing an encampment of soldiers. The General's tent, rising high above the rest, was pitched in the centre. Envoys came running in dismay, gesticulating wildly with arms and legs. "The General! the General! we must see the General at once!" they cry. Then the curtains of the tent are parted, and Taiko appears. The Humming-Top had succeeded in reproducing exactly the attitude and dress of the hero he represented. The audience showed their satisfaction. Those who, in their youth, had seen the illustrious Shogun, fancied they beheld him once more. "What do you want?" says Taiko. The emissaries dare not open their lips. "Well!" says Taiko, frowning, and clapping his hand to his sword. "Sire, while you fight your country's foes, Mitsou-Fide, to whom you intrusted the care of the kingdom, has seized the power." At this news, Taiko's face passes successively from surprise to anxiety and fury. Meanwhile a man carrying a light on the end of a long bamboo pole, held it close to the actor's face, that the public might not lose any of his facial expression. "Let us be off!" cries Taiko;' "my presence alone can restore order in the palace." He gives the command of his troops to one of his officers, and leaves the stage by a raised passage through the parquet, and disappears through a heavy curtain. The stage revolved, and revealed the interior of a pagoda.