BENKEI.
The night grows late. Eastward the bells of the Three Pagodas toll.
By the moonlight that gleams through leaves of these thick cedar-trees
I gird my armour on;
I fasten the black thongs of my coat of mail.
I adjust its armoured skirts.
By the middle I grasp firmly
My great halberd that I have loved so long.
I lay it across my shoulder; with leisurely step stride forward.
Be he demon or hobgoblin, how shall he stand against me?
Such trust have I in my own prowess. Oh, how I long
For a foeman worthy of my hand!
USHIWAKA.
The river-wind blows keen;
The night is almost spent,
But none has crossed the Bridge.
I am disconsolate and will lie down to rest.
BENKEI.
Then Benkei, all unknowing,
Came towards the Bridge where white waves lapped.
Heavily his feet clanked on the boards of the Bridge.
USHIWAKA.
And even before he saw him Ushiwaka gave a whoop of joy.
“Some one has come,” he cried, and hitching his cloak over his shoulder
Took his stand at the bridge-side.
BENKEI.
Benkei discerned him and would have spoken....
But when he looked, lo! it was a woman’s form!
Then, because he had left the World,[64] with troubled mind he hurried on.