_O-Ume_ (_again motionless_). Honourable friend!

[_With polished anger._

You dwell in my garden?

And is my house Even as your house?

_Sanko._ Be pleased to pardon!...

_O-Ume._ And you conspire here With Ama against me?

_Sanko._ O-Ume knows The samurai's honour.

_O-Ume._ O-Ume thought so, But does no longer!

_Sanko._ Ah the plum-blossom!

Then it too Has thorns and poison?

_O-Ume._ Yes, for the hand of Sanko!

Knowing the deed From whence he comes.

Knowing that ...

[_Breaks off, tensely._

Where is the priest's house?

_Sanko_ (_angrily_). Cast in the river!

_O-Ume._ Ai, for I see The blood on your hand From the torn rafters!

Red, red blood Of a deed of fury.

So I tell you, Samurai rude, Not for one life, Even for one, Will I be yours.

Please ... to leave me.

[_He looks at his hand and is going._

And yet ... (_as he stops_) ... not thus!

[_She struggles._

The priest would bid me Bind up your wound.

And you were once Sanko my friend!-- Put forth your hand!

[_He does so._

The blood----

_Sanko_ (_with sudden fierceness_). The blood is his!

[_As she falls back with a cry._

His! I have slain him!

[_Mockingly._

And did his ghost Not come here flitting?

Coldly flitting?

Here with moaning Does it not hang Upon the roof-tree Hungering for you?

He lay in the dark-- One lay with him-- One who escaped to the river.

But him I slew That you might never Turn from the Buddha And from your fathers; Turn dishonoured Of all who greet you.

_O-Ume_ (_speech coming at last_).

Ah! A-hi! Slain!...

It cannot be!

_Sanko_ (_drawing a b.l.o.o.d.y sword_).

And is this wet with dew?

_O-Ume._ O let it pierce Your own heart, samurai!

For you shall never Again know peace.

I will pray to The lord of Nippon, To the Shogun-- Who gave entrance Here to the Christ-priest.

Nay, I will die Myself that ever You may be hated By your own heart.

[_Starts toward river._

I will cast Myself to the soul-world And bid the dead To bring you evil!

Then the priest shall ...

[_Breaks off--for standing in the arbour is the priest, pale and spectral. He has come up to the steps from the river. At the sight SANKO plucks her back, as if from a ghost. A pause, then the priest speaks sacrosanctly._

_The Priest._ The Christ looks on you,

[_Lifts a crucifix._

You, a murderer-- Tho it is not I you have murdered.

[_SANKO gazes._

One slept with me, A gentle servant, Slept in my cloak ... you have slain him.

[_Steps forward._

The Christ looks on you.

He will forgive you.

[_A pause._

_Sanko_ (_recovering_). Priest!

_The Priest._ Forgive you.