“Ah, now,” said the fisherman, “let be, for the dear gods’ sake.... I would go to mine own.”
“Urashima, Thou Fisherman of the Inland Sea, I’ll set thy couch with pearl; I’ll spread thy couch with seaweed and sea flowers; Thou shalt be King of the Deep Sea, And we will reign together.”
“Let me go home,” said Urashima; “my little children wait and are tired.”
“Urashima: Thou Fisherman of the Inland Sea, Never be afraid of the Deep Sea tempest; We will roll rocks about our cavern doors; Neither be afraid of the drowned dead; Thou shalt not die.”
“Ah, now,” said the fisherman, “let be, for the dear gods’ sake.... I would go to mine own.”
Then the Daughter of the Deep Sea wept, and Urashima saw her tears.
“I will stay with you this one night,” he said.
So after the night was passed, she brought him up to the sand and the seashore.
“Take this,” she said, “in memory of me.” She gave him a casket of mother-of-pearl; it was rainbow-tinted and its clasps were of coral and of jade.
“Do not open it,” she said; “O fisherman, do not open it.” And with that she sank and was no more seen, the Daughter of the Deep Sea.
As for Urashima, he ran beneath the pine trees to come to his dear home. And as he went he laughed for joy. And he tossed up the casket to catch the sun.
“Ah, me,” he said, “the sweet scent of the pines!” So he went calling to his children with a call that he had taught them, like a sea-bird’s note. Soon he said, “Are they yet asleep? It is strange they do not answer me.”
Now when he came to his house he found four lonely walls, moss-grown. Nightshade flourished on the threshold, death lilies by the hearth, dianthus and lady fern. No living soul was there.
“Now what is this?” cried Urashima. “Have I lost my wits? Have I left my eyes in the deep sea?”
He sat down upon the grassy floor and thought long. “The dear gods help me!” he said. “Where is my wife, and where are my little children?”
He went to the village, where he knew the stones in the way, and every tiled and tilted eave was to him most familiar; and here he found folk walking to and fro, going upon their business. But they were all strange to him.
“Good morrow,” they said, “good morrow, wayfarer. Do you tarry in our town?”