YURANOSUKE. Your spirit has struck us with astonishment. It is to you that we may fitly apply the phrases “the lotus rising out of the mud” and “the gold mingled in the sand.” I was certain that such must be your spirit, and entrusted to you the great task. I, Yuranosuke, never had a shadow of a doubt; but among our forty and more confederates were some who were not well acquainted with you. They only knew you as a merchant by trade, and thought they, if you were seized and questioned, what would happen, what would you say? And especially as you had a dearly-loved son, it would be natural for a parent’s heart to be led astray by the love of his child. They discussed it often and grew restless with anxiety. I felt the only way to set my old comrades’ hearts at ease was to show them how determined was your will; and though I knew it was what we should not do, we did what we did to-night. I humbly crave your pardon for our rude conduct. ‘Among flowers the cherry-blossom and among men the samurai,’ they say; but no samurai can vie with you in resolution. Even though one hold one’s own against a million brave foes, such a spirit as yours is not to be acquired. If we make your determination our pattern and attack our enemy Moronao, we shall not fail in our object though he shut himself up in a rock or lay hidden in an iron cave. Among men there are no men, they say; but it is wonderful that there should be such a man in a merchant’s home. Unless we revere you as the tutelary deity, the protecting god of our confederates, we cannot sufficiently repay our obligations to you. In a time of tranquillity no wise man appears. Ah, how deplorable, how regrettable! If our late lord were still living, he might have fitly made you, with your great ability, the leader of an army, or entrusted to you the government of a province. To these here sitting before you, Owashi Bungo and Yazama Jutaro, and Odera, Takamatsu, Horio, Itakura, and Katayama, your action is a sovereign specific for opening their closed eyes, it is as a medicine upon which a great physician has exhausted his resources. We are thankful to you, most thankful. RECITATIVE. They shuffle back and bow to Gihei three times. ALL. We crave pardon for our rude conduct. RECITATIVE. They press their heads on the mats.