CHORUS.
O Hate, Hate!
Her[138] hate so deep that on her bed
Our lady[139] moans.
Yet, should she live in the world again,[140]
He would call her to him, her Lord
The Shining One, whose light
Is brighter than fire-fly hovering
Over the slime of an inky pool.
ROKUJŌ.
But for me
There is no way back to what I was,
No more than to the heart of a bramble-thicket.
The dew that dries on the bramble-leaf
Comes back again;
But love (and this is worst)
That not even in dream returns,—
That is grown to be an old tale,—
Now, even now waxes,
So that standing at the bright mirror
I tremble and am ashamed.
I am come to my broken coach. (She throws down her fan and begins to slip off her embroidered robe.) I will hide you in it and carry you away!
(She stands right over the bed, then turns away and at the back of the stage throws off her robe, which is held by two attendants in such a way that she cannot be seen. She changes her “deigan” mask for a female demon’s mask and now carries a mallet in her hand.)
(Meanwhile the COURTIER, who has been standing near the bed:)
COURTIER.
Come quickly, some one! Princess Aoi is worse. Every minute she is worse. Go and fetch the Little Saint of Yokawa.[141]
MESSENGER.