University of Virginia Library

Scene 6.

A bridge, leading by steps through a cemetery.
Enter Morito and Sakamune.
Sakamune.

I say to thee, but for those present,
she had embraced thee then and there.

Morito.

Certainly she was much stirred.

Saka.

Did'st thou mark her let fall the saké-cup!

Mor.

Yes! and the colour burning in her cheeks
at that moment!

Saka.

Yea, but most when I spake of the uta,
which she made the wind carry to our hands. Oh,
she is thine, if thou wilt have her.

Mor.

I think so. Almost I think so!

Saka.

It is Koromogawa alone that hinders.
Did'st thou not note how she twice looked through
the curtains, and twice called Adzuma away? Go
to her house, at Toba. Be not denied. Be resolute;
be pitiless; be terrible! Tell her what thou hast
learned; what thou hast determined. Bid her bring
Adzuma to thee there, or abide thine anger, and the
shame of thy denunciation as the robber of Shiraito's
robe in a holy temple. The penalty of such a deed
is to have both hands cut off, and the thief's name
erased from the family-line. Go! if thou would'st
have Adzuma all thine own—go!

Mor.
If I would have her! Samurai! Yon Dead,
That keep such settled silence in the mould,
Lie not more still under their graven tombs
Than, in my breast, the sense of pity sleeps.
I will not spare. I will avenge my wrong.
I have been plundered of a precious thing;
Hatefully scorned; set by; shorn of a wife—
Willing, as now I think, to have spent on me
The treasure of her tenderness, but chained,
Gagged, cheated, sold to slavery for gain—
Whose prison I will break. If I would have?
I tell thee Death, Hell, Danger, shall yield now
To the awakened fury of my love
As the thin airs part, and the filmy clouds
Before the swooping Eagle's stiffened wings.
They shall bewail who flouted Morito,
And I will lie with loveliest Adzuma.
[Exit Morito.

Sakamune.

Now I have set them fairly at each
others' throats. There will be sport out of it all,
before the end. Meantime here is my pretty Lady's
handwriting, which I have narrowly studied. She
makes her “I-ro-ha” very beautifully, and it is hard
to match such fair penmanship, yet I have been at so
much pains, that I do think this love-letter, which I
will deliver to Morito, might pass with Adzuma herself
for her own handwriting. Let us see how it runs:

He reads—

“I lift to your most honourable eyes this my very
humble letter, believing you the true friend of Lord
Morito Endo. I saw you gather up my tanzaku, and
he will know therefore what I did write at the close of
it. I am not, indeed, so wicked as to ‘hate’ Wataru,
but I have heard that our parents would have united us
in marriage, and of late I have seen the comeliness of
Morito, and have learned his valour; wherefore the
heaviness of my heart to be separated from him by that

husband whom my mother forced me to marry, caused
me to write such a verse. I pray you to let Morito
understand this little of my very loving and sorrowful
soul.”

So!—holding this, Morito cannot well miss to frighten
Aunt Koromogawa into consent. I am proud, in truth,
of my lady-like writing. Ah! but here comes one of
the few whom I have to fear.

Enter Kameju.
Kameju.

The day to you, Samurai! Where is my
Lord Morito?

Saka.

When I am omba to him I will stand ready
to tell you of his comings and goings.

Kam.

It suits you to be uncivil. Where is Morito?

Saka.

What if I say I know not?

Kam.

I should say you lied. He was with you
here a little while ago.

Saka.

If you knew so much you wasted breath
to ask.

Kam.

I waste breath, indeed, to ask truth from you,
Samurai! or trust, or honour.

Saka.

Were you of my rank, Heimin! it is
with tongue of sword that such insolence should be
answered.

Kam.

Were you of my rank, Sir Sakamune! I
had long ago obliged you to draw that steel which
you defame by wearing. It is your present safety,
look you, that I am only the retainer of my master.
But I love him, and I serve him faithfully; and it is
sorrow to me and trouble to see him day by day in
your evil company. He hath of late lost his gallant

spirit, goes melancholy, and cares not for the service
of the Court, nor for the manly exercises of a Japanese
nobleman.

Saka.

What is all this to me, fellow?

Kam.

Nothing to-day, perhaps. But it is a score
I watch, knowing not yet how the account will come
forth. Have a care, I bid thee, as to what thou dost
contrive with my Master, and whither thou dost push
his feet. Those that love him watch thee, Samurai!

[Exit Kameju.

Saka.

The meddling peasant! It would stain a
bright blade past cleaning to wet it in such vulgar
blood. Otherwise—otherwise!

Exit Sakamune.