breath:--

"Since my departure for this dark journey,
Makes you so sad and lonely,
Fain would I stay though weak and weary,
And live for your sake only!"

"Had I but known this before--"

She appeared to have much more to say, but was too weak to continue.
Overpowered with grief, the Emperor at one moment would fain accompany
her himself, and at another moment would have her remain to the end
where she then was.

At the last, her departure was hurried, because the exorcism for the
sick had been appointed to take place on that evening at her home, and
she went. The child Prince, however, had been left in the Palace, as
his mother wished, even at that time, to make her withdrawal as
privately as possible, so as to avoid any invidious observations on
the part of her rivals. To the Emperor the night now became black with
gloom. He sent messenger after messenger to make inquiries, and could
not await their return with patience. Midnight came, and with it the
sound of lamentation. The messenger, who could do nothing else,
hurried back with the sad tidings of the truth. From that moment the
mind of the Emperor was darkened, and he confined himself to his
private apartments.

He would still have kept with himself the young Prince now motherless,
but there was no precedent for this, and it was arranged that he
should be sent to his grandmother for the mourning. The child, who
understood nothing, looked with amazement at the sad countenances of
the Emperor, and of those around him. All separations have their
sting, but sharp indeed was the sting in a case like this.

Now the funeral took place. The weeping and wailing mother, who might
have longed to mingle in the same flames,[9] entered a carriage,
accompanied by female mourners. The procession arrived at the cemetery
of Otagi, and the solemn rites commenced. What were then the thoughts
of the desolate mother? The image of her dead daughter was still
vividly present to her--still seemed animated with life. She must see
her remains become ashes to convince herself that she was really dead.
During the ceremony, an Imperial messenger came from the Palace, and
invested the dead with the title of Sammi. The letters patent were
read, and listened to in solemn silence. The Emperor conferred this
title now in regret that during her lifetime he had not even promoted
her position from a Koyi to a Niogo, and wishing at this last moment
to raise her title at le