Buzen. And those lost visits, when?
Prince. The last two nights.
Buzen. [Swelling with pride.] Then, oh Prince, the cure may be found.
Better than prayers is the cure [Eyeing Ruiten.]
For prayers have not ears—have not eyes—
Have not weapons—better than prayers is it.
Prince. Tell me this cure. It is grudged, Sir Priest?
Ruiten. [Bowing.] A cure for my lord could not be grudged.
Prince. Well spoken. Say on, Sir Buzen.
Buzen. First I must beg clemency
For thy hundred samurai
For faithful they are to the bone, yet—
Prince. Yet? Why clemency? For what?
Buzen. On guard, they slept.
Prince. Slept?