name, and informs the audience that he is setting out on his travels. Presently he arrives at a temple, a battlefield, or other celebrated spot, when a ghost or deity appears, who relates to him the local legend. An exchange of edifying sentiments follows, and the supernatural personage finally reveals his identity.
The whole piece rarely occupies more than six or seven pages of print, and it usually takes less than an hour to perform. Within this narrow compass it might be expected that the unities of time, place, and action would have been observed. This is far from being the case. The action, in so far as there is any, is generally more or less coherent, but the other unities are wholly disregarded. In the Takasago, for example, the scene changes from Kiushiu to Harima, and again from Harima to Sumiyoshi, within seven pages, while weeks must be allowed for the journeys of the chief personage between these places.
The number of the dramatis personæ varies from two or three (the latter being very frequent) up to five or six. To these must be added a few musicians and the chorus. The chorus of the Nō has various functions. The chief office is to chant a narrative which serves to supplement and explain the action of the piece, as in some of Shakespeare's older plays, or to recite poetical descriptions which supply the place of the absent scenery. The chorus also indulges from time to time in sententious or sympathetic observations, or even enters into conversation with the personages on the stage.
The following description of the Nō theatre will help us to realise their character more fully. It is taken from Mr. Chamberlain's Classical Poetry of the Japanese:—
"The stage, which has remained unaltered in every
