Prince. And he, too, has watched the two nights past?
Ruiten. Aye, and he slept not
Though the samurai were heavy with sleep-fumes.
Buzen. I will tell.
Ruiten. [Elbows Buzen out of the way and comes forward.] You are honorably hoarse.
He slept not, as I say—
Prince. How kept he awake?
Since many slept spell-bound
How broke he the spell?
Ruiten. With him he brought
Oiled paper and laid it
Down on the matting
Sitting upon it.
When o'er his eyes sleep stole
And wearily weighted them
He drew out his sharp dirk
And in his thigh thrust it
By pain driving the poppy fumes off.
Ever and again he twisted
The dirk in the raw wound
And the thick blood-drops
Soiled not the matting
Because of the oiled paper.
Prince. Indeed this is no common soldier,
This Ito Soda.
Buzen. Indeed not—
Ruiten. To continue—[Retires upstage, disgruntled.]
Buzen. [Pushing forward.] As I was saying, oh Prince,
His eyes never closed.
During the Reign of the Rat
He heard, in this room, O Toyo
Tossing and moaning
As if in great fear of something
She could not escape from.
Even at the same moment
As the beginnings of her moanings
Came a cat-call from the garden—
Then nearer—then ghostly paddings
As of padded claws on matting,
And an evil presence seemed hovering
And lurking near in the darkness.
O Toyo gave a low scream—than all was silence.
Soon she came stealthily
Through the shoji—cat-like her step—
Glassy her eyes—
Claw-like her hands—
Bent she over you with curled lips—
Then she turned, even as you have said,
And, seeing a waking watcher,
Left as she came.