lamp, O'Hana went up to the Butsudan to
extinguish the lights there. She put her hand out to take one. A sharp
scream, and she fell back in confusion and fright. "An _aodaisho[u]_ in
the Butsudan! Help! Aid this Hana!" As she fled the snake with a thud
fell on the _tatami_. Unrolling its six feet of length, it started in
pursuit. Iemon stepped behind it and caught it by the tail. A sharp rap
behind the head stunned it. It hung limp in his hand. "Hana, please open
the _amado_."--"No, no: this Hana cannot; move she will not."--"Coward!"
said Iemon. "Time comes when Hana, for generations in the future
existence, will wander hill and dale in such form."--"Ara!" The woman
was properly shocked at this speech, wicked and brutal as an
imprecation. "Has the life of Hana been so foul as to deserve such
punishment in a future life? Surely 'tis not the priest of Reigan who
speaks; nor Iemon." She could only see his lips move as he stood at the
_amado_. "Evil was the connection between O'Iwa and this Iemon. Wander
not as one unburied, but becoming a Buddha at once enter Nirvana. Namu
Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Wonderful the
Law, wondrous the Scripture of the Lotus!" With the invocation he cast
the stunned reptile far out into the garden. Returning, he said--"The
_aodaisho[u]_ is the most harmless of snakes. The farmers keep it to
destroy the rats which infest house and store rooms. How can Hana be
afraid of snakes, living in this _yashiki_ overgrown by weeds and grass,
from roof to garden?" O'Hana did not reply in direct terms--"It is evil
fortune to take a snake in the hand."--"Never mind such talk. It is the
priest who speaks. This Iemon knows all about snakes. Go to sleep." She
obeyed, knowing nothing about O'Iwa and the events of the day; yet her
slumber was broken and restless. By morning she was in a high fever.[28]

CHAPTER XVII

NEWS FROM KWAIBA

Kwaiba was reported as ill; very ill. His friends and dependents who had
to pay visits of condolence, spoke of this illness with awe and terror.
To understand what follows something must be said of the past of this
man. The actor, drawing on the presumed knowledge of his audience as to
the story in the gross, can pass this over with a speech or two; a
horror-struck gesture and allusion. Not so the _ko[u]dan_ writer, who
perforce must lay before his reader all the _minutiae_ of the case.

Ito[u] Kwaiba did not brag when he spoke of his beauty