Iémon—"Ya! Mere excuses these; mere excuses these. In the master's absence the cord of the obi is loosed. Madly you go your rounds. The lewdness is evident. Sa! Make honest confession." At the outrageous words of the husband the voice of O'Iwa trembled still more:
O'Iwa—"Eh! 'Tis your own sin you would conceal. Regardless of self you would impute evil reputation to me. Having driven me out, you would make Koúmé your wife. But by that you shall gain nothing. Miserable one! Unblushingly do you join in the hate of the Okumura, parent and child?"
With a rapid motion she snatched his dagger. She half turned:
Iémon—"Ya! Whither? Whither? Here one must pick one's words. This is not the time to inquire into the facts. Iya! Iya! Iya! Where do you go?"
At their quarrel Kosuké was perplexed. Said the child in troubled voice:
Child—"Honoured mother—where go ye? Honoured father—forbearance, patience."
He clung to their garments in kindness and affection. The eyes of the two in Shuradō (Hell of fighting) were blinded. On this side and that they pulled at the scabbard of the sword. In the wrestling, the springing in and recoil, the sword slipped from the scabbard. Without intention to five or six inches it pierced the shoulder. Atto! The wife fell—"Namu Sambō!"[42] Plucking out the sword O'Iwa cast it aside. By the action of retributive fate the point of the weapon pierced the chest of Kosuké. The wound was fatal. Seven revolutions and a fall: alas! he was dying. Close under his feet the blow of Iémon had reached the child. With but a single cry forthwith he died. At the accident the husband was at a loss what to do. He stood stupified. With difficulty O'Iwa rose from the ground.
O'Iwa—"Heigh-ho! Heigh-ho! Heigh-ho! You would kill me! Oh! Since you would kill, put into deed the ardent wish. Wretch! An idea—Koúmé, the parent and child: these are to be seized and put to death. Be it so!"
With eyes of hate, her hair fallen down, jealously glaring, in appearance she was just like a female devil. Blood curdling, she inspired fear. The husband gave vent to his inner thought:
Iémon—"Though one kill without intent, yet the brandishing of the sword is one's own deed, one's very act. It is the punishment of Heaven for unchastity and jealousy. Bear it in mind."