The Golden Country Read Online Free PDF Page A

rain.
All are shaking out their wet clothes. The sound of rain grows louder.
    KASUKE: It's too bad we have to post a guard on a night like this, but Heizo, please keep a lookout for us. If you see or hear anything suspicious, give the signal.
Heizo opens the door to leave. Father Ferreira, Lord Tomonaga, and Yuki are standing at the door.
    TOMONAGA: Kasuke, did you post anyone on guard?
    KASUKE: Yes, Heizo was just going out.
    TOMONAGA: It's dangerous tonight with just one man. Please send another with him.
At Kasuke's signal, one of the farmers goes out.
    TOMONAGA: The reason I called you all together this evening is this. The chief investigator, Inoue Chikugo-no-kami, has decided to make a final effort to pull out all the roots of Christianity. He intends to go from village to village, wherever there may be hidden Christians, and make each farmer step on the fumi-e.
    KASUKE: What's a fumi-e?
    TOMONAGA: A fumi-e is a plaque of Mary or Christ, or a crucifix. He'll try to make us step on it.
    KASUKE: Step on it?
    TOMONAGA: Yes, in front of the officials he will order us to step on the face of Christ or Mary. Those who do so at once will be released. Those who don't... Unless they will sign a pledge of apostasy ...
He turns his eyes downward.
    TOMONAGA: Sooner or later-no, very soon, they will bring the fumi-e here too. I came to tell you so you wouldn't be caught unawares.
    MOKICHI: But even knowing it beforehand ... there's no escaping it, is there? What did we ever do to deserve this? Why must we spend each day in such fear? I don't understand. We've never neglected to pay our yearly tax of rice or make our annual work contribution, even the women and children. All we've done is live according to the religion our fathers and grandfathers went to so much trouble to pass on to us. Is it for this that we must receive such treatment?
    TOMONAGA: I know without your telling me what you're going through. And because I know it, I've hurried to bring you this message.
    MOKICHI: Sir, what would you do in our place? ... If you were asked to step on the fumi-e?
    TOMONAGA: What would I do?
He laughs.
    TOMONAGA: Five years ago when Otomo Kazen gave up the faith he'd received from his father, and ordered all his retainers to do the same, I also signed the pledge of apostasy. I didn't want to do it, but finally did—for three reasons. The first, of course, was just sheer weakness. But, secondly, I wanted to be of some help to Father Ferreira, and I wanted to be able to give my protection to you, to all my people. And so I became an official of the Bureau of Investigation and have so far succeeded in escaping detection. But I've made up my mind that I must one day declare publicly what I am. For that reason, should Inoue bid me step on the cross or on the face of Christ, I'm determined to give witness to my faith, whatever pain may be inflicted on me. But I am a samurai and you are farmers. I should never blame you for stepping on the fumi-e.
    MOKICHI: Father says that those who give up their faith go to hell.
    TOMONAGA: That I don't know. Ail I know is this: those who give up their lives for Christ will on that very day pass through the gates of Paradise. I know that Santa Maria will bind their wounds and that Jesus will wipe away their tears. That I know.
    HISAICHI (with force): I'll never step on it. I'll never step on it.
    NOROSAKU: I'll drink sak é with Santa Maria in Paradise.
    TOMONAGA: But frankly, Hisaichi, I think you ought to consider seriously whether it might not be better to step on the fumi-e after all. However shameful, you'd at least remain alive. As a samurai, I can't do that. But you can. You'd remain alive to pass on the teaching of Christ secretly to your children and grandchildren. Then the Christian faith would keep a foothold in this country. That's one way of looking at it.
    HATSU: I'll never step on it. No matter what happens. This life is painful enough for us farmers. Born farmers, farmers we remain to the end.