 Section 1 of Madame Butterfly. Chapter 1. Cyrus Prescription. Sire had counseled him on the voyage out, for he had repined ceaselessly at what he called their banishment to the Asiatic station to wait till they arrived. He had never regarded service in Japanese waters as banishment, he said, and he had been out twice before. Pinkerton had just come from the Mediterranean. For lack of other amusement continued Sire with a laugh. You might get yourself married, and Pinkerton arrested him with a savage snort. You're usually merely frivolous, Sire, but today you're silly. Without manifest offence, Sire went on. When I was out here in 1890, the story of the pink geisha, well, yes, admitted Sire patiently. Excuse me, then, till you are through. He turned to go below. Heard it, have you? A thousand times from you and others. Sire laughed, good-naturedly, at the gallant exaggeration and past Pinkerton his cigarette case. Ha! Ever heard who the man was? No. He lighted his cigarette. What has been your own little mystery, apparently? Apparently? Yes, we all know it was yourself. It wasn't, said Sire steadily. It was my brother. He looked away. Oh! He's dead. Back pardon, you never told us that. He went back, couldn't find her. Would you advise me also to become a subject for remorse? That's good of you. It's not quite the same thing. There is no danger of you losing your head for her. He glanced uncertainly at Pinkerton, then ended lamely, anyone. The danger would probably be entirely with the other person. Ha! Thanks, laughed Pinkerton. That's more comforting. And yet, used Sire, you are hard to comfort, humanely speaking. Pinkerton smiled at this naïve but quite exact characterization of himself. You are, continued Sire, hesitating for the right word, impervious. Exactly, laughed Pinkerton, I don't see much danger to myself in your prescription. You have put it in rather an attractive light. The idea cannot be entirely distributable if your brother Jack used it. We lower class fellows used to call him Agamemnon, you remember? It is not my prescription, said Sire briefly, leaving the deck. Chapter 2 Mr. B. F. Pinkerton and His Way But Pinkerton not only got himself married, he provided himself with an establishment, setting his menage in quite his own way and entirely for his own comfort. With the aid of a marriage broker, he found both a wife and a house in which to keep her. This he leased for 999 years. Not he explained to his wife later that he could hope for the felicity of residing there with her so long, but because, being a mere barbarian, he could not make other legal terms. He did not mention that the lease was determinable nevertheless at the end of any month by the mere neglect to pay the rent. Details were distasteful to Pinkerton, besides she would probably not appreciate the humour of this. Some clever Japanese artisans then made the paper walls of the pretty house eye-proof and, with their own adaptations of American hardware, the openings cunningly lockable. The rest was Japanese. Madam Butterfly laughed and asked him why he had gone to all that trouble, in Japan. To keep out those who are out and in those who are in, he replied with an amorous threat in her direction. She was greatly pleased with it all though, and went about jingling her new keys and her new authority like toys, she had only one small maid to command, until she learned that among others to be excluded were her own relatives. There had been what her husband called an appalling horde of these at the wedding, they had come with lanterns and banners and disturbing evidences of goodwill, and he asked her when she questioned him whether she did not think there would be a trifle wearism. You think so? She asked in turn. Emphatically, said her husband. She grew pale, she had not expected quite such an answer. A Japanese would have said no, but would have left an interrogation in one's mind. He laughed consolingly. Well, anisan, which meant only elder sister, there are no terms of endearment in the Japanese language, we will have to get along without ancestors. Think of the many people who would like to do that and be comforted. Who? She had never heard of such a thing. People for instance whose ancestors have perished on the gallows or in America have practiced trades. She did not understand, as often she did not, and he went on, I shall have to serve in the capacity of ancestors. Let us say, ancestors at large, and the real ones will have to go, or rather not come. Again he had the joke to himself, his wife had gone away to cry. At first she decided to run away from him, but this she reflected would not probably please her relatives, since they had anonymously agreed upon the marriage for her. Besides she preferred to remain. She had acquired a strange liking for Pinkerton and her new way of life. Finally she undertook a weak remonstrance, a very strong one in fact for a Japanese wife, but Pinkerton encouraged her pretty domestic autonomy. Her heirs of authority were charming, and they grew more and more so. Mr. B. F. Pinkerton. It was this among other things he had taught her to call him, I like if you permit my august ancestors visit me. I like their moj if you please permit that unto me. Her hair had been newly dressed for the occasion, and she had stuck a poppy in it. Besides she put her hand on his arm, a brave thing for her to do, and smiled wistfully up at him. And when you know what Totoro-san's smile was like, and her hand, and its touch, you will wonder how Pinkerton resisted her. However, he only laughed at her, good-naturedly always, and said no. We can't adopt a whole regiment of back-numbers, you know, you are back-number enough for me. And though he kissed her, she went away and cried again, and Japanese girls do not often cry. He could not understand how important this concession was to her. It must be confessed that he did not try to understand. Sire, with a little partisanship, explained to him that in Japan filial affection is the paramount motive, and that these, ancestors, living and dead, were his wife's sole link to such eternal life as she hoped for. He trusted that Pinkerton would not forget this. He would provide her a new motive then, Pinkerton said, perhaps meaning himself, and a new religion, if she must have one, himself again. So when she, at his motion, diffidently undertook to clothe on the phantoms which made up her religion, Pinkerton expounded what he called the easier western plan of salvation, seriously too considering that all his communications to her were touched with whimsy. This was inevitable, to Pinkerton. After all, she was quite an impossible little thing outside of lacquer and paint. But he struck deeper than he knew, for she went secretly to the church of the missionary who served on the opposite hill and heard the same thing, and learned, moreover, that she might adopt this new religion at any time she chose, even the eleventh hour. She went out joyously, not to adopt his religion, it is true, but to hold it in reserve if her relatives should remain up to it. Pinkerton, to his relief, heard no more of it. Chapter 3 A Moon Goddess Truly But his wife's family, the word has a more important application there than here, held a solemn conference, and, as the result of it, certain of them waited upon Lieutenant Pinkerton, and, with elaborate politeness, intimated that this course had there too far been quite unknown in Japan. This was their oblique way of saying that it was unsatisfactory. They pointed out with patient gravity that he would thus limit his wife's opportunities of reappearing on earth in a higher form of life. Pinkerton smilingly remarked that he was not sure that it would be best for his wife to appear on earth in a higher form. She would probably accomplish mischief enough in this very charming one, as she was in fact doing. Do you know, he continued to the spokesman, that you look exactly like a lacquered tragedy mask I have hanging over my desk? One must have seen one of these masks to appreciate this. But they all laughed good-naturedly as their host had designed and quite forgot their errand, and Pinkerton labored that they should remember it no more. This was quite Japanese. In the politest way possible he made them drink his liquors and smoke his tobacco, in the generous western fashion, either of which operations was certain to make a Japanese very ill. This was thoroughly like Pinkerton. They protested a deal of friendship for Pinkerton that night, but at the final conference where Chochu-san was solemnly disowned, none were more gloomily unfriendly than they who had eaten and drunken with him. I did the very best I could for you, little moon-guardess, said Pinkerton to his wife, but they were proof against my best wine and tobacco. She bent her head in reflection a moment. Ah, you mean I begin to learn you, Mr. B. F. Pinkerton. You mean they not proof. Aha! And Pinkerton delightedly embraced her. You are no longer a back number, he said. Aha! That's what I think. Now, I bet you I know what is that back number. Well, people like I was. Exactly, but not people like I am. No, you're up to date. I expect I ought be sorry. She signed hypocritically. And exactly why, my moon-mate. Account they outcasting me. Everybody think me most best wicked in all Japan. Nobody speak to me no more. They all outcast me except just you. That's why I ought be sorry. She burst into a reckless laugh and threw herself like a child upon him. But that's exactly why I am not. Was you sly? It is not inside me that sorry. Me? I most best happy female woman in Japan. Maybe in that whole world. What you think? He said honestly that he thought she was. And he took honest credit for it. He named the baby when it came Trouble. Every Japanese baby begins with a temporary name. It may be anything almost for the little time. She was quite sure he would like the way she had named him Trouble, meaning Joy. This was his own oblique way. As for his permanent name, he might have several others before. That was for him to choose when he returned. This event was to happen according to his own words when the robins nested again. And spring and the robins had come. All these to explain why Madame Butterfly and her baby were reclining on the immaculate mats in attitudes of artistic abandon instead of keeping an august state as all other Japanese mothers and babes were at this moment doing. American women, we are told, assume more fearless attitudes in the security of their boudoirs than elsewhere. Japanese women? Never. Their conduct is internally the same. It must be as if someone were looking on, always. There is no privacy for them short of the grave. They have no secure boudoirs. But Madame Butterfly, through the courtesy of her American husband, had both these. It will therefore be argued, perhaps, that she is not a typical Japanese woman. But it is only Lieutenant Pinkerton's view about which we are presently concerned. He called her an American refinement of a Japanese product, an American improvement in a Japanese invention, and so on. And since he knew her best, his words concerning her should have a certain ex-cathedra authority. I know no more. And she, and the maid, and the baby, too, were discussing precisely the matters which have interested us hitherto. Pinkerton, his baby, his imminent return, etc. Toto-san, with a deft jerk that was also a caress, brought the baby into her lap as she set suddenly up. Ha, you, you think he's just like any other baby, but he's a miracle, yes! She insisted belligerently. The sun goddess sent him straight from the bridge of heaven, because of those prayers so early, oh, so very early in the morning. Oh, that is the time to pray. She turned the baby violently so that she might see his eyes. Now, did anyone ever hear of a Japanese baby with purple eyes? She held him over against the dwarfed wisteria, which grew in a flat bronze coral at the Tokonoma, full of purple blossoms. She addressed the maid Suzuki, who stood by, happy as herself, apparently aware that this subject must always be discussed vehemently. As purple as that? Answer me, thou giggler, is it not so? Speak! I will have an answer! Then the maid laughed out joyous no. If she cherished the eastern reservations concerning blue eyes and pink cheeks, it was a less heinous offence to lie about it a little than to assert it impolitely. Besides, neither she nor anyone else could resist the spirits of her pretty mistress, and these spirits had grown joyously righteous since her marriage and its unfettering. Nor yet so bold of his head? Say so! Quickly! She insisted with the manner of Pinkerton, such his example. The maid also agreed to this. And then Chotosan flung the kicking youngster high above her, turned abandonately over on her back, in charming, if forbidden postures, and juggled with him there. But ah, you will have here, will you not? As long and glittering as that of the American women, I will not endure thee else. She became speciously savage. Speak, thou beggar, speak! Goo-goo, said the baby, endeavouring diligently to obey. She shook him threateningly. Ah, you making that nonsense with your parent? Now, what is that you speaking with me? Japanese? If it is, I... She threatened him direly. But he had evidently already learned to understand her. He gurgled again. Listen, no one shall speak anything but United States languages in this house. Now, what you think? You gon' go right outside Shuji first thing you do that. She resumed her own English more ostentatiously. She forgot it herself sometimes, and pretended to pitch the baby through the fragile paper wall. Also, there's one thing everybody got reckom' like. A county is his house, his wife, his baby, his maiden, his mownie. Oh, everything is his! And he say, those time he gone way, that except we all talking those United States languages when he come, he gon' bounce us all. Well, I don't get me self-bounce, Mr. Trouble. And you got look out you don't. Say me? I think if we doing all those thing he asked us, he gon' take us at those United States America, and live in his castle. Then he never kin-bounces. Chapter 5 A Song of Sorrow and Death and Heaven A bird flew to the vine in the little porch. Ah, Suzuki! But the mate had withdrawn. She clapped her hands violently for her to return. Now, why do you go away when her momentary anger fled and she laughed? You and birds flying to the wisteria. Go quickly, little maiden, and see if he's a robin and if he has completed his nest. Quickly! The mate returned and said that he was indeed a robin, but that he had no nest there as yet. Oh, how is he slow? Suzuki, let us find another robin, one that is more industrious and domestic. They are all alike, said the girl cynically. They not! Say so! Suzuki giggled affirmatively. When her mistress took so violently to English, she preferred to express herself in this truly Japanese fashion. Inform me, if you please, how much nearer beggary we are today than yesterday, Suzuki. The girl had exact information for her on this subject. She said they had just 17 yen, 54 sen, 2 rin. Alas! Alas! How we have wasted his beautiful monies! That's shame! But he will not permit that we starve, account he know we have no one except him. We all outcasted. Now look how that is bad. So, just when it is all gone, he will come with more, like the stories of old Kazabu. Oh, like story of Uncombed Ronin, who make a large oath that he gone be huge foo well if he dress his hair until his lord arrive back from the banishment. Lo, when they cutting his head of him, account he don't come his hair, his lord arrive back and say, what are they doing with him? And reward him great deal, account he constant until he most dead. So, just when we gone out on the street, maybe to find him, you with trouble on your back, me with my samisen, standing up before all the people, singing funeral songs with faces, all about more so long, she illustrated liberally. The garments here all ruffled, so dancing little, so, she indicated how she should dance. And saying out very loud, O ye people, listen, for the loave of all the 800,000 gods and goddesses, behold, we, a poor widow, at the baby what got purple eyes, which had husband, which gone off at United States America to neighbor return no more, except you have seen him, no, see, this what I think. O, how that is most terrible, we giving up all our august ancestors and gods and people and country, O, every thing just for him, and now he don't neighbor come no more. O, how that is sad, is it not? Also he don't even divorce us, so that we can marry with another man's and get some food. He, he don't even think about us, not little bit, he forgetting us, alas. But we got keep his house 999 year. No, think about that. And we gone starve before, except you giving us, just one sen, two sen, maybe five sen, O, for the love of sorrow, for the love of constancy, for the love of death, just one sen. Will you please pity us? In the name of the merciful Quannon we beg, look to move your hearts in the inside, you, we gone sing you a song of sorrow and death and heaven. She had acted it all with superb spirit, and now she snatched up her samisen and dramatized this also, and so sure was she of life and happiness that this is the song of sorrow and death, she sang. Hikari, noroke kiharu no nobe, nibosakora no hanasakari, murekuru hito no tanoshikini, shibashi uki yo ya vasururan. Sunshine on a quiet plain in spring, the perfume of the blossoming cherry blossoms, the joy of the gathering crowd, filled with love, forget the care of life. And then, as always, abandonment and laughter. What do you think, little maiden? That's good song about sorrow and death and heaven. What do you think? Speak, say so. She tossed the samisen to its place and sprang savagely at the maid. If that Mr. B. F. Pickett and Sia are doing Alec does, went to the maid in the humour of her mistress. Oh, you see his eye flame and scorch like lightning. Oh, he snatches away to the house. So, so, so. The baby was the unfortunate subject for the illustration of this. He began to whimper. Rogabai baby, often Japan, you're just a picture off of a fan. This was from Pinkerton. She had been the baby then. Ah, little beggar, he didn't know he'd gone make those poetry for you. He don't suspect of you whichever. Well, I bet you we gone have some fun when he do. Oh, Suzuki, someday when the emperor go abroad we will show him. You got say this way. She changed her voice to what she fancied an impressive male bustle. Behold, heaven descended through the everlasting great Japan, the first of your subjects taken his eye out those were blue heaven whence you are descent. Hence the emperor look on him. Then he stop and look. He can never get enough looks. Then he make trouble a large prince. And me? He just say on to me. Continue that you bring out such sons. What do you think? The maid was frankly skeptical. At least you kindle like the old Nakodo Vishu for you are most beautiful. Chuchu's son dropped the baby with a reckless thud and sprang at her again. She gripped her throat viciously then flung her laughing aside. Speak concerning marriage once more you die. And that's not a thing. You got know at his United States America if one is marry one got stay marry. Oh for Aver and Aver. Yes. No be cannot get himself divorce except in a large courthouse and jail. That's way with he that Mr. B. F. Picatin and me that Mrs. B. F. Picatin. If he Aver go and divorce me he got take me at those large jail at that United States America. There's lot of trouble. Hence he rather stay marry with me. Also he like be marry with me. Now Luke. He leave me a most largest lot money in Japan. He give me his house for live inside for 999 year. I cannot go home with my grandmother account he make them outcast me. Say you little foolish. He coming when the robins nest again. Uh huh. What you think. Say so. The major have been excused for not being always as recklessly jubilant as her mistress but she never was. And now when she chose silence rather than speech which was both more prudent and more polite she took it very ill. Chapter 6 Divine Foolery If Picatin had told her to go home even though she had no home to go to she would have been divorced without more ado. Perhaps she was logical for she reasoned as he had taught her she had never reasoned before in considering that as he had distinctly told her not to do so it was an additional surety for his return. Chocho-san again took up the happier side of the matter. The baby was asleep. And also what you think we better doing when he come. She was less forcible now because less certain this required planning to get the utmost felicity out of it what she always strove for. Me? I think I... Don't know. The maid confessed diplomatically. You do know? Of course you do know which ever. Well, I gon' tell you. The plan had been born and matured that instant in her active little brain. Just recollect is a secret among you and me. We don't tell that Mr. Trouble. Hosh! He don't can keep no secret. Well, listen. We gon' watch with that spying glass till his ship get in. Then we gon' put cherry blossoms everywhere and if tonight we gon' hang out about most one thousand lanterns about most one thousand then we wait. Just when we see him coming up that hill saw saw saw saw she lifted her kimono and strove masculinly about the apartment. Then we hide behind the shoji where there are holes to peep. She glanced about to find them. Alas, they all mend the chart, but she savagely ran her finger through the paper. We soon make some, uh-huh. So she made another for the maid. They illustrated this phase of her mood with their eyes at the holes. Then we lie quiet like mice and make believe we gon' weigh. Bettened, we leave little note gon' weigh forever. Sayonara, butterfly. No, that's too long for him. He get angry those ways on the first word and say those remark about debil and hell and all kind loud languages. That's time before he getting too angry to rush out and jump all round his neck. Uh-huh. This was also illustrated. But alas, the maid was too realistic. Say, not you, jump round his neck. Just me. Chochu-san paused ecstatically. But the maid would not have it so. She had seen them practice such divine foolery very like two reckless children, but never had she seen anything with such dramatic promise as this. Oh, and what he say then? She begged with wild interest. And what he do? Madame Butterfly was re-energized by the maid's applause. Ah, she sighed. He don't say, just he kiss us all about three, seven, ten, a thousand time. And embrace us two thousand time about most. That's what he do till we got make him stop. Account he might, might kill us. That's very bad to be kissing. Her extravagant mood infected the maid. She had long ago begun to wonder whether, after all, this American passion of affection was altogether despicable. She remembered that her mistress had begun by regarding it thus, yet now she was the most daringly happy woman in Japan. Say more, the maid pleaded. Chochu-san had a fine fancy and the nesting of the robins could not, at the longest, be much longer delayed now. She let it dry it. Well, she was making it up as she went. When that's all done, he look round those ways like he doing most always and he see something and he say, Oh, hello, hello. Where you got that child? I say, ah, oh. I think maybe you leak own one and I buy him of a man with thin one, no baby with those purple eye and bald hairs. And he ask me, what you pay? Americans always ask what you pay. I say, oh, let me see. I think too yen and too sen. That's too much for bald baby. What you think? But there's a time he saying, I bet you there's a liar and you're fooling among me. Then he getting angry and I hurry and say one last time, that's right, I told you little lie for a fun. I didn't pay nothing for him, except say, then I whisper a thing inside his ear, just a little thing and he see, ah-ha, ah-ha. Then he say once more a last time, ah, what you think, Suzuki? But the girl would not diminish her pleasure by guessing. God almighty. That's all things you know, questioned the maid reproachfully. And all things you do, she had a right to feel that she had been defrauded out of a proper denouement. Ah, what would you have that is more? Just joy and glory forevermore. That's enough. What you think? You know that song? Tis life when we meet, tis death when we part? Her mistress had grown plaintive in those two lines. I hear him sing that, murmured the maid comfortingly. Her spirits vaulted up again. But ah, you ever hear him sing? She snatched up the samisen again, and to its accompaniment sang, in the pretty jargon he had taught her, making it as grotesque as possible, the more to amuse him. I call her the belle of Japan, of Japan. Her name is Ochocho-san, Chocho-san. Such tenderness lies in her soft-elmened eyes. I tell you she's just Ichiban. That's me, uh-huh? Say, you think he ever going away again when he got that little child, and the samisen, and the songs, and all the joy, and me? And another richly joyous laugh. Oh, you and the samisen and joy. Poof! said the maid. But the child, that's not a kind thing. Except he grow up, and go way after his father. She was odiously unsatisfied. She would leave nothing to fate, to heaven, shaka. But out of her joyous future, her mistress satisfied even this grisly doubt. Ah, but we gone have more, like steps of a leather, up, up, up, and all purple eyes, oh, every one, and all males. Then, if one go way, we got another, another, another. Then how can he, that Mr. B. F. Picatin, ever go way? Uh-huh. Yet, oh, Chocho-san, if you... Was this a new doubt? It will never be known. Stop! That's another thing. You got call me, oh, Chocho-san, Mrs. Benjamin F. Picatin. Say, do you notice how that sound grand when my husband speaking it that a ways? Yes, most like I was a empress. Listen, I tell you another thing, which is another secret among you and me, just. I think it is more nice to be called that a way. Just Mrs. Benjamin F. Picatin. Heaven-desended, female drooler, everlasting, great Japan. Uh-huh. Say, how I look if I am an empress? What you think? She imitated a pose and expression of her empress very well. If your face little longer, you look exact like, said the mate. But her mistress was inclined to be more modest. Ah, no. But I tell you who look like a emperor, just exact that Mr. B. F. Picatin, when he got that unicorn upon him, with gold all up in front and down behind. And at this gentle treason, there was no protest from the patriotic mate. End of Section 2. Section 3 of Madame Butterfly. This lip-revox recording is in the public domain, recording by Avayee in June 2010. Section 3 of Madame Butterfly by John Luther Long. Chapter 7. How he didn't understand her whichever. The baby continued to sleep. He rather justified the praises of his mother. He was as good as a Japanese baby and as good-looking as an American one. Somebody was without. There was a polite and subdued clattering of clogs in the entrance. Gomenna's eye. I beg your pardon. It was a familiar, deprecatory voice, accompanied by the clapping of hands. Tutrosan smiled bearily and called the mate. Oh, Suzuki! Goro de Nakudo, he is without. Shaka and all the gods defend us now. The two exchanged glances of amusement, and the mate proceeded to admit him. Madame Butterfly received him with the odious lack of ceremony. Her independent life with Pinkerton had bred. She was imperially indifferent. The go-between pointed out how sad this was to as beautiful a woman as she. Is it a trouble to you? She asked, perking her head aside. The Nakodo only sighed gloomily. Madame Butterfly laughed. Poor nice little old man, said she with specious pity in politest English. Do not trouble about me. Do not arrive any more if it pains you. I must. You have no parents now, nor anyone. You are outcast. Ah, but will you not permit me to suffer the lack? But you will never be married. Again? Well, yes, again then. How terrible. He took this quite seriously and became more cheerful. Yes, a beautiful woman like you must have a husband. Yes, thanks. I got one. Do you perhaps mean more? I mean a Japanese husband. Oh, ah, that will have me a month and then divorce me, and then another, and another, and another. She was becoming belligerent. How is it better with you now? She recovered her good humor. At America one is married forever, except the other die. Uh-huh. What do you think? Your marriages are not so. She had been speaking indifferently both languages and now the Nakodo, who was not apt at English, begged her to explain this in Japanese. She did so. Yamadori has lived long at America and he says it is not thus. Is it not safe to rely upon his excellent wisdom? No, for I, which am foolish, are wiser than both you and he. I know. You just guess. Everybody got to stay married in United States America. No one can get divorced except he stayed in a large courthouse, all full judges with long faces and bald on their heads, long, long time, maybe two, four, seven years. Now just think about that, how that is tiresome. That's why no one don't get no divorce. They too tired to wait. First, the man he got go and stand before those judge and tell all he think about it. Then the woman she got. Then some lawyers quarrel with those judge and then the judges get jury and ask them what they think about it and if they don't know, they all get put in jail till they get done thinking about it and whether they go and get divorce or not. Uh huh. Where did you learn that? Asked the old Nakodo Agast. Oh, ah, that Mr. B. F. Picatin, she assumed the grander ear, that Mr. Benjamin Frengalin Picatin, my husband, she smiled engagingly and held out her pretty hands as who should say, is not that sufficient? It was so evidently the invention of Picatin that it seems a perfluous to make the explanation. The Nakodo said curtly that he did not believe in it. Not believe what Mr. B. F. Picatin had said? Choutrosan was exasperated. The engaging smile had been wasted. She flung the blue-eyed baby up before him. Well, then, do you believe that? She laughed almost malignantly. The marriage broker gulped down this fearful indignity as best he might. He hoped there were not going to be any more such women in Japan as the result of foreign marriages. Still, even this phase of the situation had been discussed with his client. But Yamadori, who was bred to the law, tells me that our law prevails in such a matter. The marriage haven't taken place here. She gave a gasp and cried like a savage wounded animal. Yamadori lies! The Nakodo was silenced. She crushed the baby so fiercely to her breast that he began to cry. Sh! she commanded harshly. He looked up for an incredulous instant, then burrowed his head affrightedly into her kimono. She turned upon the Nakodo in magnificent scorn. Oh, you foo-well! You think he never arrived back? That's what you think, in secret? He? He do! She snatched a photograph from an easel at a Tokonoma, tore the child from his hiding and held them up together. Her purpose was quite evident. The Nakodo was thoroughly frightened. She recovered her poise and her control of the situation. Now, what you think? Ha ha ha! Say, I bet you all monies, he gon' come most one million smile for see that child. That's what I all time spraing Shaka and the augustnesses for. One child exact like him. Well, say, I cut him. And now that Mr. Benjamin Frankarlin Picatin he got come back. Horry, even if he don't like. He cannot stand it. But he do like. All her passion was gone now and her sure gladness returned. She was naive and intimate and confidential again. Say, first I pray this large American God that huge God almighty, but there's no use. He don't know me where I live. Then I pray Shaka the Kaimyo of the augustness in the Godhouse. I think they don't hear me account they outcasted me when I marry with that Mr. B. F. Picatin. But she smiled at her pretty celestial cajolery. I pray them so long and so much more than they ever been pray with before that they feel good all times and there was finality in this and is use. And maybe I not all outcast it. Don't tell him. He laugh upon my gods and say they just would and got no works in them. And he all times call the augustnesses bag numbers. Just he don't know till he find out. Uh huh. If he returns he will probably take the child away with him. That is his right. Chartered a sad face Nakudo. But nothing could ruffle Madame Butterfly now. She laughed sibilantly at this owl like ignorance. Oh how you don't know things. How you don't understand me what I mean which ever. Of course he take that child away with him of course. And me. Me also. And Suzuki. Uh huh. And we go and live in his castle for ever and ever. The improbability of changing the girl's point of view began to dawn upon the slow intellect of the Nakudo. At least Yamadori wishes for a look at meeting. I have promised him. Will you not grant this? Chotrosan shook her head at him knowingly. And if I do not he not gone pay you one present? She laughed wildly and the Nakudo by a grin admitted the impeachment. Well the spirit of mischief possessed the girl. Say I don't care. Let him come. He like foresee me? I like foresee him. And if I say I gone marry him he go horry and marry me right away. Uh huh. What you think about those? The Nakudo said delightedly that that was precisely what he thought. Yes. But suppose they put me in a large jail and got look out between bar so she illustrated. And don't get nothing for it. He gone stay all times behind my side and comforting me. Hold my hand. Let me weep upon him. I don't know. Maybe they cut my head off me. Then he got get his head cut off too and go the road to meadow together with without those hate. Oh how that is terrible. And suppose she whispered it horridly. That Mr. B. F. Pickerton. Ha ha ha. Aright. The Nakudo was not sure how much of this was meant seriously. They were extremely unusual humours to him. But she had consented to the meeting and he promptly took her at her word. When then will it please you to have me bring Yamadori? When you like. Nice little old friend. The Nakudo fixed that day a week. As he was going, Chochu-san laughingly asked, Say, how often he been married? But twice. The Nakudo replied virtuously. And both times divorce? He admitted that this was the case. And both times just on visit from United States America? Just little visit? So long? She spread her hands. Under her laughing gaze it seemed best to admit it. Oh, he. He just marry another for fun. Whenever he think about it. Then he forget it when he don't think about it and marry another. Say so. He heard her laugh again as he left the courtyard, but he had confidence in the ability of Yamadori to accomplish his purpose if he could be brought into contact with her. He was one of the modern-pensioned princes of Japan, a desirable matrimonial article, and preternaturally fascinating. Chapter 8 The Bright Red Spot in Chos' Cheeks The look at meeting came about as planned. The distinct air of state about Madame Butterfly's house on that day. The baby and all the frivolities that attended him were in banishment. The apartment had been enlarged by the rearrangement of the shouji. At the head of it, Statoesk in her most brilliant attire said Chotrosan. Japanese women are accomplished actresses and looking in upon Chotrosan just at the moment of Yamadori's arrival, one would not have known her. She was as unsmiling, as emotionless as the Daibutsu. The grave ceremonies attending the advent of a candidate for matrimony went forward with almost no recognition from Chotrosan until they had come to the point where they might seat themselves before her to inspect and be inspected. Then she struck her fan against her palm and Suzuki appeared and set a tobacco-borne between them. Yamadori suggested somewhat the ready-made clother, inevitable evidence of his transformation. Otherwise he was the average modern Japanese with high gibbeted trousers, high collar, high hat and eyeglass. He might not converse directly with Chotrosan, especially concerning the business at hand, but he was not prohibited from conferring with the Nakodo about it in her presence. The rule of the quorum for such an occasion clearly decreed that she should be blind and deaf concerning what went on. The convenience of the arrangement is obvious. The Nakodo, the representative of both parties, was happily permitted on the part of the one to regard what was happening as if it had not happened and on the part of the other as if it had. She is quite as beautiful as you said. Remarked Yamadori after a careful inspection with his glass, the Nakodo nodded virtuously and filled his pipe. His client lighted a cigarette. Chotrosan did not even smile. And her father, you say, was on the emperor's side in the Satsuma Rebellion? The marriage broker satisfied his client to the last particular of her father's bloody sacrificial end at Yokoji. And you have told her faithfully of me? He paused on the last word to note its effect upon Chotrosan. There was none, and he hastened to add cumulatively. And my August family? He paused again. But again there was no sign from the lady of the house. She was staring out over his head. And have offered her my miserable presence? To each of these the broker answered lugubriously yes. Then why in the name of gods does she wait? The Nakodo explained with a sigh that she had declined his presence. I will send her others. There shall be a thousand times more valuable. Since I have seen her, I know that the first must have been an affront. She kept her eyes up, but Yamadori unquestionably smiled in the direction of Chotrosan as if she were a woman of joy. The light of battle came into the stony eyes of the girl. She clapped her hands almost viciously. The little maid appeared. Tea, she said. The maid brought the tea, and with that splendid light of danger still in her eyes Chotrosan served it. With the ear of a princess she put on in an instant all the charms of her musme. She gave back smile for smile now and jest for jest. She begged Yamadori with the most charming upward inflections to put away his cigarette and take her Shippo pipe, and he did it. That was Japanese, she said. Her cigarettes were not. Was it not so? With a resistless movement toward him. She let him touch her hands in the passage of the cups. She enveloped him with the perfume of her garments. She possessed him wholly in one dizzy instant. I will give her a castle to live in, said Yamadori breathlessly. The Nakodo sighed. Chotrosan refilled his pipe with an incomparable grace. Ah! She permitted her lips to breathe, very softly. She shall have a thousand servants. There was no audible response from the Nakodo, but his eyes gleamed avidly. Chotrosan returned the pipe, smiling dazzingly. It seemed almost yes with her. Everything her heart can wish, cried Yamadori recklessly. The Nakodo turned besiegingly toward the girl. She lifted her eyebrows. He did not understand. As she passed him, she laughed. Is it enough? Still he did not understand. Have we earned the present? She whispered. The solemn writing, added Yamadori, fervently. She still fancies herself, perhaps married to the American, sighed the Nakodo. Yamadori laughed disagreeably. If your excellency would condescend to explain, oh, she is not serious. A sailor has a sweetheart in every port, you know. Chotrosan whispered something to the Nakodo. She still smiled. She is perhaps his wife, answered he, obediently. Yes, said Yamadori, as if they were the same. Chotrosan whispered again. But the child, there is a most accomplished child, said the Nakodo. Yes, said the traveled Japanese with the same smile and the same intonation. There was a distinct silence. Chotrosan smiled more vividly. But her nostrils moved rapidly in and out. The Nakodo grew anxious. Yamadori cast his eyes toward the ceiling and continued. A sailor does not know the difference. In no other country are children esteemed as they are here. In America it is different. People sometimes deny them. They are left in a basket at some other person's door. But the person does not receive them. They are then cared for by the municipality as waves. It is shameful to be such a child. There are great houses and many officers in each city for the care of these. They are an odious class by themselves and can never rise above their first condition. The Nakodo glanced at his client. He had not the slightest objection to a man who would lie a little to win his cause. But to lie too much was to lose it. I myself knew a man whose child became a cripple. He sent him to the mayor of the city saying that as the cars of the city had injured him the city must bring him up. He was sent to the poor house and afterward to the stone quarries. It was a most picturesque sight. Tosho-san bent again to the ear of the old man. There was a tremor in her voice now. Had he eyes of purple? Asked the Nakodo. He was beautiful of face but surely eyes of purple are not desirable? Yamadori brought his own down from the ceiling and levelled them at Tosho-san. She still smiled, but there was a bright red spot in each cheek now. But he was misshapen and he was never known to laugh. I saw many such. I saw a child whose father had deserted it and the mother Madame Butterfly clapped her hands again. The maid appeared promptly. She had expected the summons. Suzuki, good Suzuki, the excellent gentleman, the August she swept a royal gesture toward them who have done as the honour to call they wish to go hurriedly. Their shoes, will you not hasten them? With a final brilliant smile she turned her back upon them and left the room. Your story of the rejected child did it. We approached the Nakodo on the way. I had not got to the worst, set his client ruefully. I meant to cite an example exactly to suit her own case. Luckily she turned us out when she did then. What do you mean, sir? Demanded to suit her in sudden wrath. Oh, said the broker in polite haste. I was beginning to feel ill. The irony of this escaped the client. Still, Goro would have had a less opinion of Yamadori if having lied once he had not lied again in defence of the first. Though Yamadori came no more he had brought the serpent to Madame Butterfly's Eden. End of Section 3 About Birds One day she took her courage and the maids too for that matter in both hands and called upon the American consul. She saw the vice consul. There was a west wind and it was warm at Nagasaki. He was dosing. When he woke Madame Butterfly was bowing before him. At a little distance was the maid with the blonde baby strapped to her back. He was unable to account for them immediately. Good night, said Toto-san, smiling amiably. The consul glanced apprehensively about. Night? Not night, is it? They both discovered the error at the same instant. Ah, no, no, no, that's mistake. Me, I'm little rattle. Excuse us. That's not nice, make mistake. We got called you good morning, I expect. Or how do? What do you think? Whichever you like, he answered without a smile. Then Toto-san waited for something further from the consul. Nothing came. She began to suspect that it was her business to proceed instead of his. I think maybe you don't know me. She questioned to give him a chance. Oh yes, I do, declared the consul. In fact, everybody knew her for one reason and another, her baby, her disowning, her beauty, her American marriage. You are Toto-san, the daughter. He forgot her father's name, though he had often heard it. You used to dance, did you not? Aha, see, that's what I think. You don't know me, whichever. Nobody's daughter, just Mrs. Benja... No, Mrs. Frangalin Benjamin... No, no, no. Mrs. Benjamin Frangalin Picatin. Everybody else outcast me. Aha, I little more rattle. Oh, the consul was genuinely surprised and for the first time looked with interest at a child. Toto-san, to aid him, took trouble from the maid. Finally he politely asked her what he could do for her. I got asked you a thing. She returned the baby to the maid. Proceed, said the consul. You know about birds in your country? Yes, something. Ah, that's what I think. You know everything. That's why your country sent you here. Don't you bear bias? You do me too much honour, laughed the consul. You don't know? She was distinctly alarmed. Everything? No, only a few things. But you know about birds, robins, just little robins? Her inflections denounced it a crime not to know. He was not proof against this or against these. Yes, he said. Of course. Aha, of course. That's what I, all times, thinking. That's mistake by you. They could laugh together now. Ah, tell me then, if you please, when do those robins nest again? Me? I think it is later than in Japan, is it not? Just account the robin nesting again just now in Japan. The consul said yes, because the girl so evidently desired it. Not because he knew. Ah, that's what I think later. Mold later than in Japan, is it not? Again, her fervid emphasise obliged him to say yes, somewhat against his conscience. And say, when somebody getting married with another body at your America, does God stay married? Usually, yes. Decidedly, yes, even sometimes when he doesn't wish to. And don't matter where they live, not at all. Ah, how that is nice. Say, you know all about that. What do you think? Well, I know more about that than about ornithology. You see, I've been married, but I've never been a robin. The joke passed quite unnoticed. She put a great question. And no one can get divorced from another except in a large courthouse full judge? Yes, love the consul. That is true. And they take a very long time. Yes, nearly always. The law's delay. And sometimes they get inside a jail. She was so avid that she risked the very great discourtesy of an interruption. And that too, without a word of apology. Suzuki was for an instant ashamed for her. Occasionally that happens too, I believe. Every doubt had been resolved in her favour. And if they got a nice baby-yate, don't they? Don't everybody like that? I did very much. Mine is a fine boy. Say, he look like you. Purple eye, bald hair, pink cheek. No, I'm afraid he does. Freight? Glad then. Oh, Freight mean glad. Yes, that's why Mr. B. F. Pickerton talking. Don't mean what he say and don't say what he mean. A sack. The consul laughed, but he could not quite understand the drift of her questioning. If people have a nice baby alike that, they don't give him away, not to no be. No be, they don't like. What do you think? I should think not. For a moment he looked savage as a young father can. Totoro-san's face glowed. She stood consciously aside that the consul might the better see the baby on Suzuki's back. He understood and smiled in the good fellowship of new parenthood. He made some play with the child and called him a fine fellow. Ah, you never see no such baby, I expect? In the largesse of his fellowship he declared that he had not. He had only recently been engaged in putting the same question to his friends. She had hoped indeed that he would go on from that and say more. The subject so abundantly merited it. But she now remembered that in her haste to satisfy her doubts she had neglected all those innumerable little inquiries which go to make up the graceful game of Japanese courtesy. Though she might neglect them with Pinkerton she must not with a stranger who was obliging her. Chapter 10. Gentle Lying. Ah, how is that health? Also I am sorry I woke you up excellent and that I interrupt your languages. That is not a happy for the most exalted health to be wake up and interrupt. Therefore I pray your honorable pardon. And how is that health? The consul said that he was quite well. Ah, how that is nice. And you always sleeping well, most honorable? He nodded. Yes, I hear you sleep. Oh, that's not joke, no, no, no. He had laughed but she would never do that. But I do snore I believe, sometimes. He was not proud of even this of course. Oh, just like gentle breezes. He said that he could not do better than adopt this charming euphemism. Also, how all you getting there soon? Thirty. A Japanese always adds a few years. She therefore thought him younger and her veneration abated accordingly. But he was in fact older. That's also nice, very nice. I wish I saw all. That Mr. B. F. Pickerton, he like me more if older, I think. She sighed. I don't know about that. The American point of view differs. But he would not meddle. How old are you, pray? This was only the proper return for her courtesy. Besides, the consul was enjoying the usually dull game of decorum today. The girl was pecan't in a most dazzling fashion. Me, I bout, bout, what he had said made her doubt a little the Japanese idea. Bout most twenty-seven when the chrysanthemum blooms again. She was seventeen. Yes, bout most twenty-seven with a barely perceptible rising inflection. He acquiesced into fiction but smiled at the way she hung her head and blushed. This was not the Japanese way of telling one's age or any other gentle lie. You got a grandmother? She proceeded. To, alleged the consul. That's where's splendid. And she is well in her health, too? Which one? She passed the joke if she saw it. No Japanese will make his parent a subject of one. The old one, always the old one first. The consul felt clearly chidden. She was well at last accounts. That's nice. And the young one? The same. And now, about yours? Alas, I have not that same happiness like you. I got no ancestors, whichever. They all angry accounts that Mr. B. F. Pickerton saw they outcast me out the family. He don't like that they live with him, account they back numbers. He and me gone be only back number, he say. He big boss back number, me just little boss back number. Me? I don't got ancestors before me know behind me now. Hence, they don't show me the way tomato when I die. Well, me? I don't care whichever. I got husband and baby. There's most best nice in Japan, maybe in the whole world. And I can go at Nirvana by another road. Aha, if I most. The kindly consul better than she understood both the effect of the separation of her from her ancestors and the temperament of Pinkerton. He undertook not withstanding his resolution not to meddle a tentative remonstrance. She listened politely, but he made no impression. You must not break with your relatives. If Pinkerton should not, should, well, die, you know, you would indeed be an outcast. If your own people would have nothing to do with you, nobody else would. It must, of course, be known to you that your marriage with Pinkerton has put you in unfortunate relations with everybody. The Japanese because you have offended them. The foreigners because he has. What would you do in such a case? Me, I could dance, maybe, or, or die. But she laughed as she said it. Then she acknowledged his rebuking glance. Excuse me, that's not nice. Well, it is not so easy to die as it was before he came. She sighed happily. The consul was curious. Why? he asked. Why? he make my life more sweet. But that is no reason for quarreling with your family. But they don't want me because my husband don't want them. Henceforth I got go away from my husband if I want them. And if I want him more better, I got go away from them. No matter which ever. I got go away from someone. Well, I want those husband more better than any. Say, there is a phony. They make me marry with him when I don't wish him. Now I am married with him, they don't wish him. Just after my father he kill himself sticking with short sword, that's how we getting so poor. Oh, very poor. Me, I go and dance little, so we don't starve. Also, I think if somebody wish me I get married for a while, account that grandmother got her food and clothings. Well, those were grandmothers she as the old Narkot about it. She like me get marry with someone. He say, men's just ask him other day, can he get him nice wife? And he don't know non nicer. She paused to let the consul make sure of this fact, which he did, and then acknowledged the appreciation she had provoked with a charming smile. Whichever, he say he think I don't like him, account he America gin, he also remarking with me that he a Barbarian and a bees. Well, me? I say I don't want him, I afraid bees. But everyone else they say, yes, yes, ah, yes, he got mony, and for just little while I got endure him. So I say, bring me that bees, and lo, one day the old Narkot, he bringing him for look at meeting. Well, she paused to laugh, and so infectious was it that the consul adventuriously joined her. At first I think him a God, he so tall and beautiful, and got on such a blue clothes, all full golden things, and he don't sit way, way off, and just talk. She laughed abundantly. He make my life so very joyous, I think I never been that happy. She had an excess of the muteness. Oh, just at first I frightened, account he sit so close with me, and hold my hand, and as if it made satin. Aha, satin, look! She gave them both to him. They were deliciously pretty, but the consul was embarrassed by his possession of them. She began slowly to withdraw them, and then he let them go with regret. I beg your august pardon, I just singing in the inside me, and speaking with the outside. That's not nice, you don't care nothing about that. Those, what? He thought she meant the hands, and perhaps she did. Just those little story. Yes, I do, declared the consul with some relief. It is a charming story. And it was, for Toto-san's eyes and hands took part in its telling as well as her lips. You mean, you like here more? Yes, she reflected an instant. I think there is no more. Just, yes, just after a while I never get frightened no more, no matter how close, nor how he hold my hand. But then you, I beg pardon, you were married? I think you said so. Oh, yes, she replied, as if that had made little difference in their situation. I marry with him. I think his ship was then ordered to, she nodded. Alas, he got go and serve his country, but he gone come back and keep on being married with me. What you think? The consul contrived to evade the interrogation. Is that why you asked about the robins? Yes, he gone come when the robins nest again. He, he don't never expect we got this nice baby account I don't tell him. I don't Kim tell him, I don't know where he is, but me? I don't tell if I know, account he rush right over here and desert his country and henceforth get in a large trouble, maybe with that President United States America and that large Goddess Liberty independence. What you think? Chapter 11 The Most Best Nice Man It was quite superfluous to point out such of her ideas as had birthed in the fertile brain of Pinkerton. Certainly he had enjoyed his married life with her, but it was for another reason than hers. The consul could observe, he thought, how exquisitely amusing it had been. It was too, exactly in Pinkerton's line to take this dainty, vivid, eager, formless material and mold it to his most wantonly whimsical wish. It was perhaps fortunate for her that his country had had need of him so soon after his marriage. However, the consul informed her that her fears of trouble for Pinkerton from the sources mentioned were entirely groundless. But this, to his surprise, was not pleasing intelligence. She liked to believe, as he had let her believe, that Pinkerton occupied a large space in the affairs of his country that he was under the special patronage of the President and the Goddess of Liberty was, perhaps. Her own corollary. But it fitted his character as she had conceived it. To her he was a God, perhaps. But let it be understood that the Japanese God is neither a steer nor immaculate. Well, whichever, she said in some disappointment, there's a surprise on him when he come. He all times joking with me. I make one joke upon him. That's good joke. What do you think? The consul took his head. The matter began to have a sinister look. But the girl's faith was sublime. Ah! You! Her inflection was one of pity for his ignorance. That's a count you don't know him. You're shaking your nice head. He joking all times. Sometime I do know if he joking, except he stop, look solemn and laugh. Then he make the house reddle. Oh, maybe you think I don't joke too, also. Well, that's mistake. I make joke just like him, just bad. One time I make joke with him about runway to that grandmother. I count I don't care for him no more. Well, what do you think? He say, Hello, let's see how you can run fast. Huh? That's little joke upon me. Now I gonna have the largest joke upon him. Say, you gotta tell him, if you please, augustness, that I couldn't wait. It was so long, long, long. I got tired. So, I am married with a great and wise prince name, Yamadori Okyo, and live in a huge castle with 1000 servants and all my heart skin wish. Uh-huh. Also that I gone way to his castle with his purple eye baby to never return no more. Naver. You gonna tell him that? I would prefer not to have a hand in any further, that is, any deception. The council objected gravely. The girl was amazed and reproachful. Uh, don't you like joke? I think every American do. That's not nice for me. I got be sorry I telling you all those. Alas, how that would be nice for you. You see him get angry so quick. She smooth her hands together. And then he say those remark about debil and hell and rush up the hill this way. She again lifted her kimono and acted it recklessly across the apartment. But my dear madam. She came at him with a voice and movement that were resistlessly caressing. He perceived how useless it would be to protest further. He acknowledged her protein fascination. Ah, please Augustness to tell him, it will be that nice for me. Ah, you gone do it, yes? Say so. The consul had capitulated to her voice and eyes. This was evident to her. Ah, thanks. Most excellent. You're the most best nice man in the world. She paused guiltily. Even this purely Japanese euphemism might be conjugal treason. Except, laughed the consul. Except, confessed the girl with drooping head. A smile began to grow upon her lips. When she raised her face it was a splendid laugh. How we have fun seeing him rush up that hill at the house. She was frankly dissembling. So, she illustrated again back and forth across the apartment. After that? Ah, after that? Well, I make everything correct. She was radiantly certain that she could. The consul remembered the saying of the professor of rhetoric that no comedy could succeed without its element of tragedy. Well, Pinkerton might have meant to return to her. Any other man probably would. He would not have been quite certain of himself. Only, that stuff about the robins sounded like one of his infernal jokes. He probably supposed that she knew what he meant. Farewell. But she had not so construed it. Unless Pinkerton had changed, he had probably not thought of her again. Except as the prompt wife of another man. He never explained anything. It was his theory that circumstances always did this for one and it was therefore a saving of energy to permit circumstances to do it. There was a saying in the Navy that if anyone could forget a played game or a spent bottle more quickly than Pinkerton, he had not yet been born. Providing her with a house and money meant nothing. He would probably have given her all he had, whether it were a dollar or a thousand. But, on the other hand, if she had been one of the sudden and insane fancies which occasionally visited him, the case was altogether different and altogether like Pinkerton. For in the person of a fascinating woman, Pinkerton might survive the absence in question. For himself he was quite sure, had he been Pinkerton, of course, that it would have survived something greater. And finally his own views prevailed with him as if they were Pinkatons and he believed that he would be delighted to return and resume his charming life with her on Higashihil. He thereupon told her that Lieutenant Pinkerton's ship was under orders to stop at Nagasaki, a government rendezvous for the Navy about the 1st of September to observe and report the probabilities of war with China and he was instantly glad that he had told her. The girl's superb joy was expressed in a long, in-drawn sigh and then silence. But something had to be said or done. I... I like as you another thing, again dissembling as if the talk was still at the trivialities where it began. Certainly, said the consul with a smile, but won't you have a chair? He had noticed that she was trembling. She set up unsteadily on the edge of it and then she forgot what she had meant to ask. Say! She was still at sea, but suddenly a thought flashed in her eyes. All babies at your America got those purple eye? Uh, yes, very many of them. Said the consul with a little surprise at her direction. And... and also bald of their head. All of them, I believe, at first. He smiled and the girl smiled back at him engagingly. Say, August-ness, you can't come for sea-dose, baby. What you think? Her words were like caresses. But the rapture growing surely in the girl's face now was not reflected in that of the consul. Concern for her outweighed her fascinations for the moment. I... I hope so. She cut off his doubting incontinently. Say! Maybe you also don't think he gon' take us live in his large castle at United States America? She challenged reproachfully. Did he tell you that he would? That he had one? No, he don't tell me nothing. He laugh when I ask him like the house gon' fall down. But... what you think? The consul answered her quite briefly. He knew that he heard her, but his impotent anger was at Pinkerton. He had not sought him capable of that. If I were to advise, I should ask you to consider seriously Yamadori's proposal if he has really offered himself. It is a great and unusual opportunity for you, for any girl in Japan. You think those? You? She looked at him for an amazed and reproachful instant, then gathered her kimono in her hand and pushed her feet into her clogs. Go before her, Suzuki. She said gently to the maid. To the consul sorrowfully. Good night. At the door she turned with the ceremonial sweep of her draperies, looked and came hurrying back. All the joy had returned to her face at the sincere regret, almost pain she saw upon his. She impulsively grasped his hands, both of them. Once more, different. Good night, Augustnes. And her voice was very soft. Uh huh. Me? I just a fool, yes? You? You did most best nice man in all the whole world. She paused, smiling up at him. He understood that she wished to repeat their pretty play upon the phrase. Except... She nodded and laughed. Except... She hurried after the maid, laughing back at him confessingly as she went. And after all, the consul was glad it had ended thus. For joy is better than sorrow, always and everywhere. When they again reached the pretty house on the hill, Chotrosan looked ruefully back over the steep road they had come. Oh, how that was tiresome, Suzuki. But he, when he comes, it will be just one, two, three great strides. How he will rush up that hill, it costs us so much sweat to climb. Light storm with lightning and thunder. Flash, flash, flash. Boom, boom, boom. And here he is, all for just little me. Then how he will stamp about, not removing his boots, spoiling the mats, smashing the fusuma, shaking the house like earthquake animal. Where is she? Huh? Men stole me she gone and marry with a full Yamadori. Gone me my purple-eyed baby away. Then I jump round his neck before he getting too angry and hold his hand and say close with his ears, How do, Mr. B. F. Pickerton? Uh-huh. What do you think, Suzuki? And Suzuki said in English too, There's most best nice thing I ever see. End of section four. Section five of Madame Butterfly. This lip-revox recording is in the public domain, recording by Avae in June 2010. Section five of Madame Butterfly by John Luther Long. Chapter twelve. Like a picture of Puncho Sai. From that time until the seventeenth of September not a ship entered the harbour but under the scrutiny of the glass that Lieutenant Pinkerton had left at the little house on Hikashi Hill to read his signals aboard and there were very many of them for the war was imminent. Faith had begun to strain a little with unfaith after the first. It was very long but on the seventeenth his ship came into the bay. So great like a bird did she come that the glass did not find her until her white and gold mass veered to make an anchorage. Then all at once the guilt name on her bow was before Chotru-san's eyes. It was tragically sudden. With a hurtling cry she fell to the floor. The little maid with eastern intuition understood but she said nothing and did what was best. Both she and her mistress and all the world for that matter knew the comfort of this speechless sympathetic service and presently she was better and could talk. I didn't know I so glad softly laughed Chotru-san but the maid had known what to expect. You can't rest little now please Okusan. You can't sleep little please just little rest sleep. She drew her mistress's eyelids down and lightly held them. Chotru-san shook her off and sprang up revivified rest sleep not till he come rest peace sleep beauty chanted the maid persuasively but her mistress would not. Now Hassan like you got eagles wings and a thousand feet it will not be one hour not one half till he will be here. My pink kimono, widest obi kansashi for my hair and poppies I will be more beautiful than I have ever been. Flowers, alas there are no cherry blossoms. How that is sad. Seem like we cannot be gay without them in the month of the cherry blossoms we were merry but chrysanthemums all of them and lanterns if it be black night most one thousand. Ha ha his house shall be gayer than it has ever been there shall never again be such good occasion. Rest is beauty. urged the maid holding up the mirror to her. Ah Suzuki I am beautiful as beautiful as when he went away the maid was silent the Japanese silence which is not ascent Chochu-san snatched a metallic mirror out of her hand I am she cried savagely say so she brandished a heavy mirror over the girl's head I asked you to rest peace sleep that's why you get beautiful once more oh once more the mirror crashed to the floor and she burst into tears just you've been too trouble now you gone rest little urged a comforting maid oh all the gods I cannot I cannot tell he come I shall die before she sorrowfully recovered the mirror no no pitiful Kuanon I am no longer beautiful waiting and doubting make one soon sad and old and how long we have wait how long oh shaka but now I am happy happier than I have ever been therefore shall I be more beautiful than I have ever been again for happiness also is beauty ah Suzuki be kind with me she got on her knees to the maid and laid her head at her feet an ecstatic thought came to her Suzuki you shall make me beautiful today and tomorrow the gods shall now we have not even time to pray them not time to rest will you not can you not ah you most she pulled the girl down to her and whispered the last words in her ear with her arms about her and the girl did let us not inquire how she had never yet withstood that tone and that caress there was a certain magic in her deft fingers and her mistress had it all no dainty creature need one ever wish to see than this bride awaiting a nude a coming of her husband and when it was all done they each took a final delighted look into the mirror it was too small to show the whole figure but they moved it up and down and round about until every portion had been seen both pronounced it very good stand just that way back the maid going the length of the apartment to observe just like those new porcelains of Kinko-san she declared just like those old picture of Buncho-sai retorted Toto-san meaning anything but that but in the way of women the world over a few more touches were necessary and it was finished now the flowers for his room take them all oh everyone we shall not need them again go go go uh-huh and trouble make a picture of him he will be trouble no longer after today he can't get new name maybe Joy Joy her commands were obeyed within the appointed hour the house was decked as for a festival and not a flower remained upon its stem the baby had indeed become a picture and so had Toto-san and the maid and the house then they hid behind the shoji recklessly making peep holes with their dampened fingers as they had planned there was one very low down for the baby so that he could sit on the mats which he did not choose to do and one each for the others Toto-san sang as she fixed herself at her peep hole so as not to disarrange her finery rogue-a-bye baby often Japan you're just a picture off of a fan the maid tossed the baby like a ball into her lap uh-huh laughed Madame Butterfly once more everything was at last quite as they had planned it now let him come she said in a charming defiance let him come quickly then the hour passed then two four night fell they seized to chatter later came perfect silence then that other silence of the day of the night the pulses of terror quickened Suzuki noiselessly lighted the lanterns later at the shivering gesture from her mistress she lighted the andon in the room she had grown very cold all night they watched he had the careless habit of the night but he did not come and all the next day they watched and many after quite silent now always the baby wondered at this and would look inquiringly from one to the other it was very strange to him this new silence the house had been full always of the laughter and chatter the patter of the feet the sighing of the shuji they did nothing now but watch and eat a little, sleep a little less and less of these finally Chocho's son could no longer hold the glass she lay on the mats with the baby while the faithful handmaid watched every day the faded flowers were replaced by purchased ones cheaper and cheaper ones the last money went for this and the candles which renewed the lights on the lanterns each night these were not a thousand were not a dozen now she did not think of going to him in destroying her Japanese conventions this was the one thing that had been left in honor Yu Shoku Mibeya Bunko the young lady's old book of the quorum she had read that the only woman who seeks a male is a Yujo, a courtesan in a week a passenger steamer came into the bay they took no interest in her but the next day quite by accident they saw him for the first time he wasn't a deck of the strange ship a blonde woman was on his arm they watched quite sleeplessly all that night a few more lanterns were lighted on the following morning the warship had disappeared from the harbor Chocho's son was frightened the sinking at her heart she now knew to be blacked out her little unused frivolous mind had not forecast such a catastrophe there might have been a reason she had conceived for his detention aboard his ship he was never very certain she had not been sure that he was with her until the day before the position of the vessel had been unfavorable for observation Chapter 13 The Good Consul's Compassionate Lying The moralization set in even the comfort of the maid was dulled they decided that Chocho's son should go to see the Good Consul while the maid and the baby remained at home to welcome him if perhaps he had not gone with the warship they had already created this hope the maid helped her down the steepest part of the hill nevertheless when she arrived at the consulate she was quite breathless the consul was alone there were no frivolities now each knew that the other understood me? I got little hard illness, I think the girl panted in excuse of her lack of ceremony and the consul's pitying stare she looked very ill but her smile was still tragically bright the consul placed her a chair she declined it there was a moment of conscious silence then he went hesitatingly to his desk and got an envelope containing money a large sum he silently handed her this she looked at him in appealing inquiry but she did not take the money it is only only in remembrance of the past he wishes you to be always happy as he says he is he confidently hopes for your good wishes congratulations there was moisture in the consul's eyes only questioning in hers he suddenly saw that she did not understand he decided that she never should he did not speak again nor did she for a space then happy? happy? she murmured dizzily but how can I be happy if he do not come? how can he be happy if if he do not come? the consul was silent he still held the money toward her she tried to smile a little to make him think she was indifferent concerning his answer to the question she was about to ask ah oh ah you told him about that joke that little joke we make on him the consul pretended ignorance she explained that about me gone marry with Yamadori and take his baby away? he had to answer now oh that was too foolish to talk about seriously Pinkerton had been glad to hear it but you told him? she hoped now he had not well he looked out of the window he would not strike but she would be struck but but you you told him? she had raised her voice picturesly yes answer to consul Dali wondering what he could say next she gasped and wiped her dry lips yes that's right that's what I ask you do and what he say? she questioned Haskily the consul was willing to lie as deeply as the occasion might demand the woe in the girl's face afflicted him he saw in her attire the pitiful preparations to welcome the husband he now knew to be a craven and in her face what it had cost to wait for him but in specie the lie was difficult well he began uncertainly we it all happened about as you had supposed he got very angry and would have rushed right up the hill as you thought only only what next? the wish to lie had grown upon him wondrously as he went on but invention flagged the dispatches on his desk caught his eye only he was not permitted a moment's leave while in the harbor he had all these dispatches to prepare for for his government the war you know all in cypher he showed them to her a brilliant thought came into his head see they're all in his handwriting he had not written a line of them his ship was ordered away suddenly to china but he'll be back here some of these fine days and then the rest was for her at any rate he could lie no more all all the gods in heaven bless you she said sinking with the reaction she reeled and he put her into the chair her head fell limply back and her pallet face looked up at him with the weary eyes closed but there was rest and peace on it and it was still very beautiful someone was approaching in haste and he drew a screen before her chapter 14 the blonde woman a woman entered Mr. Sharpless the American consul she asked while crossing the threshold the consul bowed can you reach my husband at Kobe by telegraph I think so who is your husband he took up a writing pad as he spoke Lieutenant Pinkerton of the one moment for God's sake it was too late the eyes of the little woman in the chair were fixed on his they even tried to smile a little weirdly at the poor result of his compassionate lying she shook her head for silence I beg your pardon I beg your pardon I'm ready set a consul roughly he made no other explanation proceed I should like you to send this telegram just saw the baby and his nurse can't we have him at once he's lovely shall see the mother about it tomorrow was not at home when I was there today expect to join you Wednesday week by Kyoto Maru come along at a late as she advanced and saw Chotrosan she stopped in open admiration how very charming how lovely you are dear will you kiss me you pretty plaything Chotrosan stared at her with round eyes as children do when afraid then her nostrils quivered and her lids slowly closed no she said very softly ah well laugh the other I don't blame you they say you don't do that sort of thing to women at any rate I quite forgive our man for falling in love with you thanks for permitting me to interrupt you and Mr. Sharpless will you get that off at once good day she went with the hurry in which she had come it was the blonde woman they had seen on the deck of the passenger steamer they were quite silent after she was gone the consul still at his desk his head bowed impotently in his hands Chotrosan rose presently and staggered toward him she tried desperately to smile but her lips were tightly drawn against her teeth searching unsteadily in her sleeve she drew out a few small coins and held them out to him and curiously took them on his palm they are his all that is left of his beautiful money I shall need no more give them to him I like if you also say I sorry no, no, no glad, glad, glad she humbly sighed me I wish him that happiness for himself and and me me, I shall be happy maybe tell him I shall be happy her head drooped for a moment when she raised it she was quite emotionless if one might judge from her face thank him that Mr. B. F. Pickerton also for all that kindness he have been unto me permit me to thank you Augustness for that same you, you she could smile a little now at the pretty recollection then the tears came slowly into her eyes you the most best nice man in all the whole world she closed her eyes a moment and stood quite still the consul said below his breath Pickerton on all such as he good night said Choutrosan and at the door looking back sayonara and another tired smile she staggered a little as she went out Alas you also have seen her well the intuitive little maid as she let her mistress in and she is more beautiful than the sun goddess answered Choutrosan the maid knelt to take off her shoes she think me just a play thing she generously tried to smile at the maid who was weeping she touched her hair caressingly as she knelt don't weep for me little maiden I count her disappoint a little disappoint don't weep for me that little while ago you asked me to rest peace sleep she said after a while well go away and I will rest now I wish to rest sleep long long sleep and I pray you Luke when you see me again whether I be not again beautiful again as a bride the maid did not go once more she understood her mistress but I think you love me the girl stopped therefore go that I suffer no more go that I rest peace sleep long beautiful sleep go I beg she gently took her hands and let her out farewell little maiden she said softly closing the shoji don't weep when the robins nest again she said quite still and waited till night fell then she lighted the andon and drew her toilet glass toward her she had a sword in her lap as she sat down it was the one thing of her fathers which her relatives had permitted her to keep it would have been very beautiful to a Japanese to whom the sword is a soul a golden dragon writhed upon the superb scabbard he had eyes of rubies and held in his mouth a sphere of crystal which meant many mystical things to a Japanese the guard was a coiled serpent of exquisite workmanship the blade was tempered into vague shapes of beasts at the edge it was signed ikesada to her father it had been honor on the blade was this inscription to die with honor when one cannot longer live with honor it was in obscure ideographs but it was also written on her father's cameo at the shrine and she knew it well to die with honor she drew the blade affectionately across her palm then she made herself pretty with vermilion and powder and perfumes and she prayed humbly endeavoring at the last to make her peace she had not forgotten her father's religion but on the dark road from death to maidol it seemed best now to trust herself to compassionate augustnesses who had always been true then she placed a point of the weapon at that nearly nerfless spot in the neck known to every Japanese and began to press it slowly inward she could not help a little gasp at the first incision but presently she could feel it divided on her shoulder the larger stream going down her bosom in a moment she could see it making its way dentily between her breasts it began to congeal there she pressed on the sword and a fresh stream swiftly over and the other read her, she thought and then suddenly she could no longer see it she drew the mirror closer her hand was heavy it seemed far away she knew that she must hasten but even as she locked her fingers on the serpent of the guard something within her cried out picturesly they had taught her how to die but he had taught her how to live nay, to make life sweet yet that was the reason she must die strange reason she now first knew that it was sad to die she could not come and substituted himself for everything he had gone and left her nothing nothing but this the maid softly put the baby into the room she pinched him and he began to cry oh pitiful quannon nothing the sword fell dally to the floor the stream between her breasts darkened and stopped her head drooped slowly forward her arms penitently outstretched themselves toward the shrine she wept oh pitiful quannon she prayed the baby crapped cooing into her lap the little maid came in and bound up the wound when mrs. Pinkerton called next day at the little house on Higashi Hill it was quite empty end of section 5 end of madame butterfly by john luther long thanks for listening