“Father,” said Rai-Taro, “indeed, I have looked well.”
“Then choose, my son, choose, for I send you to take up your habitation upon the earth.”
“Must I go among men?” said Rai-Taro.
“My child, you must.”
“I will not go with the men-at-arms,” said Rai-Taro; “fighting likes me very ill.”
“Oho, say you so, my son? Will you go, then, to the fair lady’s bower?”
“No,” said Rai-Taro, “I am a man. Neither will I have my head shaved to go and live with priests.”
“What, then, do you choose the poor peasant? You will have a hard life and scanty fare, Rai-Taro.”
Rai-Taro said, “They have no children. Perhaps they will love me.”
“Go, go in peace,” said Rai-den Sama; “for you have chosen wisely.”