RIKI
The dew is tears, perhaps.
AOYAGI
The dew! It came to me like a cool veil that the morning sun would lift and little breezes bear away. Then sometimes—the voice, the loneliness of Obaa-San.
RIKI
Look where her home lies. Far down there beyond that stream, see—there is Kyushu.
AOYAGI
Oh, Riki, my Riki, my august lord, why, why can I stay here in happiness with you when I know that Obaa-San is miserable and alone?
RIKI
I can not say? I only know that we are here—you and I—and we are happy. Two make a world, Aoyagi. Why? How? I do not know.