But the graceful gulls hovering for a moment swept on in widening circles out to farther sea.
"Oh, breezes of the air which blow whither ye list! Oh, tide of ocean which ebbs and flows at will! Ye may move all, but I am prisoner here, devoid of motion. Oh, good sir have pity and give me back my wings," cried the moon-maiden, pressing her hands together in grief.
The fisher's heart was touched by the pathos of her voice and the glittering of her tears.
"I'll give back your winged-robe if you'll dance and make music for me", said he.
"Oh, yes, good sir, I will dance and make music, but first let me put on my feather-robe for without it I have no power of motion."
"Oh, yes", said the suspicious mortal, "If I give you back your wings you'll fly straight to heaven."
"What! can you not believe the word of a heavenly being, without doubting? Trust me in good faith and you'll lose nothing."
Then with shamed face the fisherman handed to the moon-maiden her feathered robe, which she donned and began to dance. She poured out such sweet strains from her upright flute that with eye and ear full of rapture, the fisherman imagined himself in heaven. Then she sang a sweet song in which she described the delights of life in the moon and the pleasure of celestial residence.
The fisherman was so overjoyed that he longed to detain the fairy. He begged her to dwell with him on earth, but in vain. As he looked, he saw her rising. A fresh breeze, rippling the face of the sea, now sprang up, and wafted the pearly maiden over the pine-clad hills and past Fuji mountain. All the time sweet music rained through the air until, as the fisherman strained his eyes toward the fresh-fallen snow on Fuji's crest, he could no longer distinguish the moon-maiden from the fleecy clouds that filled the thin air.