Buzen. [Puffing up.] Without more words than are fit
This then is the way of the cure.
When long had thine illness ravaged and worn thee
And many nights had you tossed by weird visions enthralled,
No cures affecting, no prayers availing thee [Glances at Ruiten.]
Then councilled I with thy wise ones—
And, too, with Priest Ruiten—
Ruiten. I, you should name first,
For without my prayers your wisdom was nought.
Buzen. To continue briefly.
All our heads together brought no solution—
Prince. True, true.
Buzen. [Bowing.] Humbly I acknowledge my head
Empty and brainless.
Yet even from idiots lips
Wisdom oft falls unexpected
And therefore more wonderful.
Now it is told in old tales
Of how Iyaiyasu met—
Ruiten. Short, abrupt is thy tale.
Prince. The cure, Sir Buzen,
The hour passes.
Buzen. [Bowing.] I crave honorable leniency.
To be brief—
Prince. Aye, brief.
Buzen. Discouraged and sick at heart
At the sufferings of my great lord,
I was retiring to my room
By way of the garden
And the hour was the Hour of the Fox.
I heard a splashing in the pool
And drawing near
Saw a young soldier washing.
I spoke to him asking,
"Who art thou?"
"Retainer to my Lord Nabeshima,
Prince of Hizen," he answered.
Then talked I with him. Of thy sickness
We talked. And he was ashamed of thy samurai's sleeping.
He begged to be allowed to guard thy sleep
Also for, being a common soldier, it was not permitted.
So earnestly talked he that I promised to consult
With the other councillors and see what could be done.
"So tell me your name, young sir," I said.
"Ito Soda is my name, honorable sir,
And for your kind words I thank you."
So I consulted and the result was
We granted his request.