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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aac992e --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66057 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66057) diff --git a/old/66057-0.txt b/old/66057-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a5ba1dd..0000000 --- a/old/66057-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9487 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Tale of Genji, by Murasaki - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Tale of Genji - -Author: Murasaki - -Translator: Arthur Waley - -Release Date: August 13, 2021 [eBook #66057] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Ronald Grenier (This file was produced from images generously - made available by Google Books/Stanford University Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF GENJI *** - - - - - THE TALE OF GENJI - - By - LADY MURASAKI - - Translated from the Japanese by - ARTHUR WALEY - - Boston and New York - HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY - The Riverside Press Cambridge - 1925 - - To - BERYL DE ZOETE - - - - - PREFACE - - -Readers of the _Diaries of Court Ladies of Old Japan_, translated by -Madame Omori and Professor Doi, will remember that the second of the -three diaries is that of a certain Murasaki Shikibu. The little that -is known of this lady’s life has been set forth by Miss Amy Lowell -in her Introduction to that book. A few dates, most of them very -insecure, will be found in Appendix I of this volume. It is, however, -certain that Murasaki was born in the last quarter of the tenth -century, that she lost her husband in 1001, and that a few years later -she became lady-in-waiting to the Empress Akiko. We know that she was -chosen for this post on account of her proficiency in Chinese, a -subject which the young Empress was anxious to study. Akiko was then -about sixteen, so that Murasaki’s position in the house was what, -in our parlance, we should call that of ‘governess’ rather than of -lady-in-waiting. Akiko, though officially espoused to the Emperor, -was still living at home, and her father soon began to pay somewhat -embarrassing attentions to the new governess. From the Diary we know -that on one occasion at any rate his solicitations were refused. Was -the _Tale of Genji_ or any part of it already written when Murasaki -came to Court? We only know that in a passage of the Diary which -apparently refers to the year 1008 she speaks of her novel having -been read out loud to the Emperor. His majesty’s comment (‘This is -a learned lady; she must have been reading the Chronicle of Japan’) -shows that what was read to him must have been the opening chapter of -the tale. For in the whole work there is only one sentence which could -possibly remind any one of the _Nihongi_ (‘Chronicle of Japan’), and -that is the conclusion of Chapter I. So though we may be certain that -the first few books were already written in 1008, it is quite possible -that the whole fifty-four were not finished till long afterwards. -But from the _Sarashina Diary_, the first of the three contained in -the _Court Ladies of Old Japan_, we know that the _Tale of Genji_ in -its complete form was already a classic in the year 1022. The unknown -authoress of this diary spent her childhood in a remote province. Her -great pleasure was to read romances; but except at the Capital they -were hard to come by. She prays fervently to Buddha to bring her -quickly to Kyoto, and let her read ‘dozens and dozens of stories.’ -In 1022 she at last arrives at Court and her wildest dreams are -fulfilled. Packed in a big box her aunt sends round ‘the fifty-odd -chapters of _Genji_’ and a whole library of shorter fairy-tales and -romances. ‘Are there really such people as this in the world? Were -Genji my lover, though he should come to me but once in the whole -year, how happy I should be! Or were I Lady Ukifune in her mountain -home, gazing as the months go by at flowers, red autumn leaves, -moonlight and snow; happy, despite loneliness and misfortune, in the -thought that at any moment the wonderful letter might come....’ - -Such were the _rêveries_ of one who read the _Tale of Genji_ more than -nine hundred years ago. I think that, could they but read it in the -original, few readers would feel that in all those centuries the charm -of the book had in any way evaporated. The task of translation in -such a case is bound to be arduous and discouraging; but I have all -the time been spurred by the belief that I am translating by far the -greatest novel of the East, and one which, even if compared with -the fiction of Europe, takes its place as one of the dozen greatest -masterpieces of the world. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - PAGE - PREFACE 7 - LIST OF MOST IMPORTANT PERSONS 11 - GENEALOGICAL TABLES 13 - CHAPTER - I. KIRITSUBO 17 - II. THE BROOM-TREE 39 - III. UTSUSEMI 81 - IV. YŪGAO 92 - V. MURASAKI 135 - VI. THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 180 - VII. THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 211 - VIII. THE FLOWER FEAST 239 - IX. AOI 250 - APPENDICES 297 - - - - - LIST OF MOST IMPORTANT PERSONS - - (ALPHABETICAL) - - - Aoi, Princess Genji’s wife. - - Asagao, Princess Daughter of Prince Momozono. Courted in - vain by Genji from his 17th year onward. - - Emperor, The Genji’s father. - - Fujitsubo The Emperor’s consort. Loved by Genji. - Sister of Prince Hyōbukyō; aunt of - Murasaki. - - Genji, Prince Son of the Emperor and his concubine - Kiritsubo. - - Hyōbukyō, Prince Brother of Fujitsubo; father of Murasaki. - - Iyo no Suke Husband of Utsusemi. - - Ki no Kami Son of Iyo no Kami, also called Iyo no - Suke. - - Kiritsubo Concubine of the Emperor; Genji’s mother. - - Kōkiden The Emperor’s original consort; later - supplanted by Kiritsubo and Fujitsubo - successively. - - Koremitsu Genji’s retainer. - - Left, Minister of the Father of Aoi. - - Momozono, Prince Father of Princess Asagao. - - Murasaki Child of Prince Hyōbukyō. Adopted by - Genji. Becomes his second wife. - - Myōbu A young Court lady who introduces Genji - to Princess Suyetsumuhana. - - Nokiba no Ogi Ki no Kami’s sister. - - Oborozukiyo, Princess Sister of Kōkiden. - - Ōmyōbu Fujitsubo’s maid. - - Right, Minister of the Father of Kōkiden. - - Rokujō, Princess Widow of the Emperor’s brother, - Prince Zembō. Genji’s mistress from his - 17th year onward. - - Shōnagon Murasaki’s nurse. - - Suyetsumuhana, Princess Daughter of Prince Hitachi. A timid and - eccentric lady. - - Tō no Chūjō Genji’s brother-in-law and great friend. - - Ukon Yūgao’s maid. - - Utsusemi Wife of the provincial governor, Iyo no - Suke. Courted by Genji. - - Yūgao Mistress first of Tō no Chūjō then of - Genji. Dies bewitched. - - - - - GENEALOGICAL TABLES - - - ┌ Prince Zembō, _m_. Lady Rokujō, and died young. - │ │ - │ └ Vestal Virgin of Ise. - │ - │ - ├ THE EMPEROR. - │ │ - │ └ Heir Apparent (his mother was Kōkiden). - │ │ - │ ├ San no Miya. - │ │ │ - │ │ └ Kaoru Genji. - │ │ - │ └ Genji (his mother was Kiritsubo). - │ - │ - ├ Prince Momozono. - │ │ - │ └ Princess Asagao. - │ - └ Princess Ōmiya, _m_. the Minister of the Left. - │ - ├ Aoi. - │ │ - │ └ Yūgiri. - │ - └ Tō no Chūjō. - │ - └ Kashiwagi. - - - MINISTER OF THE RIGHT. - │ - ├ Kōkiden (eldest daughter). - │ - └ Oborozukiyo (sixth daughter). - - - A FORMER EMPEROR. - │ - ├ Prince Hyōbukyō. - │ │ - │ └ Murasaki (Genji’s second wife). - │ - └ Fujitsubo. - │ - └ Child (supposed to be the Emperor’s, really Genji’s). - - - IYO NO KAMI (husband of Utsusemi). - │ - ├ Ki no Kami (by a former marriage). - │ - └ Nokiba no Ogi (by a former marriage). - - - - - CHAPTER I - - KIRITSUBO[1] - - -At the Court of an Emperor (he lived it matters not when) there was -among the many gentlewomen of the Wardrobe and Chamber one, who though -she was not of very high rank was favoured far beyond all the rest; so -that the great ladies of the Palace, each of whom had secretly hoped -that she herself would be chosen, looked with scorn and hatred upon -the upstart who had dispelled their dreams. Still less were her former -companions, the minor ladies of the Wardrobe, content to see her -raised so far above them. Thus her position at Court, preponderant -though it was, exposed her to constant jealousy and ill will; and -soon, worn out with petty vexations, she fell into a decline, growing -very melancholy and retiring frequently to her home. But the Emperor, -so far from wearying of her now that she was no longer well or gay, -grew every day more tender, and paid not the smallest heed to those -who reproved him, till his conduct became the talk of all the land; -and even his own barons and courtiers began to look askance at an -attachment so ill-advised. They whispered among themselves that in the -Land Beyond the Sea such happenings had led to riot and disaster. -The people of the country did indeed soon have many grievances to -show: and some likened her to Yang Kuei-fei, the mistress of Ming -Huang.[2] Yet, for all this discontent, so great was the sheltering -power of her master’s love that none dared openly molest her. - -Her father, who had been a Councillor, was dead. Her mother, who never -forgot that the father was in his day a man of some consequence, -managed despite all difficulties to give her as good an upbringing as -generally falls to the lot of young ladies whose parents are alive and -at the height of fortune. It would have helped matters greatly if -there had been some influential guardian to busy himself on the -child’s behalf. Unfortunately, the mother was entirely alone in the -world and sometimes, when troubles came, she felt very bitterly the -lack of anyone to whom she could turn for comfort and advice. But to -return to the daughter. In due time she bore him a little Prince who, -perhaps because in some previous life a close bond had joined them, -turned out as fine and likely a man-child as well might be in all the -land. The Emperor could hardly contain himself during the days of -waiting.[3] But when, at the earliest possible moment, the child was -presented at Court, he saw that rumour had not exaggerated its beauty. -His eldest born prince was the son of Lady Kōkiden, the daughter of -the Minister of the Right, and this child was treated by all with the -respect due to an undoubted Heir Apparent. But he was not so fine a -child as the new prince; moreover the Emperor’s great affection for -the new child’s mother made him feel the boy to be in a peculiar sense -his own possession. Unfortunately she was not of the same rank as the -courtiers who waited upon him in the Upper Palace, so that despite -his love for her, and though she wore all the airs of a great lady, it -was not without considerable qualms that he now made it his practice -to have her by him not only when there was to be some entertainment, -but even when any business of importance was afoot. Sometimes indeed -he would keep her when he woke in the morning, not letting her go back -to her lodging, so that willy-nilly she acted the part of a -Lady-in-Perpetual-Attendance. - -Seeing all this, Lady Kōkiden began to fear that the new prince, for -whom the Emperor seemed to have so marked a preference, would if she -did not take care soon be promoted to the Eastern Palace.[4] But she -had, after all, priority over her rival; the Emperor had loved her -devotedly and she had born him princes. It was even now chiefly the -fear of her reproaches that made him uneasy about his new way of life. -Thus, though his mistress could be sure of his protection, there were -many who sought to humiliate her, and she felt so weak in herself that -it seemed to her at last as though all the honours heaped upon her had -brought with them terror rather than joy. - -Her lodging was in the wing called Kiritsubo. It was but natural that -the many ladies whose doors she had to pass on her repeated journeys -to the Emperor’s room should have grown exasperated; and sometimes, -when these comings and goings became frequent beyond measure, it would -happen that on bridges and in corridors, here or there along the way -that she must go, strange tricks were played to frighten her or -unpleasant things were left lying about which spoiled the dresses of -the ladies who accompanied her.[5] Once indeed some one locked the -door of a portico, so that the poor thing wandered this way and -that for a great while in sore distress. So many were the miseries -into which this state of affairs now daily brought her that the -Emperor could no longer endure to witness her vexations and moved her -to the Kōrōden. In order to make room for her he was obliged to shift -the Chief Lady of the Wardrobe to lodgings outside. So far from -improving matters he had merely procured her a new and most embittered -enemy! - -The young prince was now three years old. The Putting on of the -Trousers was performed with as much ceremony as in the case of the -Heir Apparent. Marvellous gifts flowed from the Imperial Treasury and -Tribute House. This too incurred the censure of many, but brought no -enmity to the child himself; for his growing beauty and the charm of -his disposition were a wonder and delight to all who met him. Indeed -many persons of ripe experience confessed themselves astounded that -such a creature should actually have been born in these latter and -degenerate days. - -In the summer of that year the lady became very downcast. She -repeatedly asked for leave to go to her home, but it was not granted. -For a year she continued in the same state. The Emperor to all her -entreaties answered only ‘Try for a little while longer.’ But she was -getting worse every day, and when for five or six days she had been -growing steadily weaker her mother sent to the Palace a tearful plea -for her release. Fearing even now that her enemies might contrive to -put some unimaginable shame upon her, the sick lady left her son -behind and prepared to quit the Palace in secret. The Emperor knew -that the time had come when, little as he liked it, he must let her -go. But that she should slip away without a word of farewell was more -than he could bear, and he hastened to her side. He found her -still charming and beautiful, but her face very thin and wan. She -looked at him tenderly, saying nothing. Was she alive? So faint was -the dwindling spark that she scarcely seemed so. Suddenly forgetting -all that had happened and all that was to come, he called her by a -hundred pretty names and weeping showered upon her a thousand -caresses; but she made no answer. For sounds and sights reached her -but faintly, and she seemed dazed, as one that scarcely remembered she -lay upon a bed. Seeing her thus he knew not what to do. In great -trouble and perplexity he sent for a hand litter. But when they would -have laid her in it, he forbad them, saying ‘There was an oath between -us that neither should go alone upon the road that all at last must -tread. How can I now let her go from me?’ The lady heard him and ‘At -last!’ she said; ‘Though that desired _at last_ be come, because I go -alone how gladly would I live!’ - -Thus with faint voice and failing breath she whispered. But though she -had found strength to speak, each word was uttered with great toil and -pain. Come what might, the Emperor would have watched by her till the -end, but that the priests who were to read the Intercession had -already been dispatched to her home. She must be brought there before -nightfall, and at last he forced himself to let the bearers carry her -away. He tried to sleep but felt stifled and could not close his eyes. -All night long messengers were coming and going between her home and -the Palace. From the first they brought no good news, and soon after -midnight announced that this time on arriving at the house they had -heard a noise of wailing and lamentation, and learned from those -within that the lady had just breathed her last. The Emperor lay -motionless as though he had not understood. - -Though his father was so fond of his company, it was thought better -after this event that the Prince should go away from the Palace. He -did not understand what had happened, but seeing the servants all -wringing their hands and the Emperor himself continually weeping, he -felt that it must have been something very terrible. He knew that even -quite ordinary separations made people unhappy; but here was such a -dismal wailing and lamenting as he had never seen before, and he -concluded that this must be some very extraordinary kind of parting. - -When the time came for the funeral to begin, the girl’s mother cried -out that the smoke of her own body would be seen rising beside the -smoke of her child’s bier. She rode in the same coach with the Court -ladies who had come to the funeral. The ceremony took place at Atago -and was celebrated with great splendour. So overpowering was the -mother’s affection that so long as she looked on the body she still -thought of her child as alive. It was only when they lighted the pyre -she suddenly realized that what lay upon it was a corpse. Then, though -she tried to speak sensibly, she reeled and almost fell from the -coach, and those with her turned to one another and said ‘At last she -knows.’ - -A herald came from the palace and read a proclamation which promoted -the dead lady to the Third Rank. The reading of this long proclamation -by the bier was a sad business. The Emperor repented bitterly that he -had not long ago made her a Lady-in-Waiting, and that was why he now -raised her rank by one degree. There were many who grudged her even -this honour; but some less stubborn began now to recall that she had -indeed been a lady of uncommon beauty; and others, that she had very -gentle and pleasing manners; while some went so far as to say it was a -shame that anybody should have disliked so sweet a lady, and that -if she had not been singled out unfairly from the rest, no one would -have said a word against her. - -The seven weeks of mourning were, by the Emperor’s order, minutely -observed. Time passed, but he still lived in rigid seclusion from the -ladies of the Court. The servants who waited upon him had a sad life, -for he wept almost without ceasing both day and night. - -Kōkiden and the other great ladies were still relentless, and went -about saying ‘it looked as though the Emperor would be no less -foolishly obsessed by her memory than he had been by her person.’ He -did indeed sometimes see Kōkiden’s son, the first-born prince. But -this only made him long the more to see the dead lady’s child, and he -was always sending trusted servants, such as his own old nurse, to -report to him upon the boy’s progress. The time of the autumn equinox -had come. Already the touch of the evening air was cold upon the skin. -So many memories crowded upon him that he sent a girl, the daughter of -his quiver-bearer, with a letter to the dead lady’s house. It was -beautiful moonlit weather, and after he had despatched the messenger -he lingered for a while gazing out into the night. It was at such -times as this that he had been wont to call for music. He remembered -how her words, lightly whispered, had blended with those strangely -fashioned harmonies, remembered how all was strange, her face, her -air, her form. He thought of the poem which says that ‘real things in -the darkness seem no realer than dreams’ and he longed for even so dim -a substance as the dream-life of those nights. - -The messenger had reached the gates of the house. She pushed them back -and a strange sight met her eyes. The old lady had for long been a -widow and the whole charge of keeping the domain in repair had fallen -upon her daughter. But since her death the mother, sunk in age and -despair, had done nothing to the place, and everywhere the weeds -grew high; and to all this desolation was added the wildness of the -autumn gale. Great clumps of mugwort grew so thick that only the -moonlight could penetrate them. The messenger alighted at the entrance -of the house. At first the mother could find no words with which to -greet her, but soon she said: ‘Alas, I have lingered too long in the -world! I cannot bear to think that so fine a messenger as you have -pressed your way through the dewy thickets that bar the road to my -house,’ and she burst into uncontrollable weeping. Then the -quiver-bearer’s daughter said ‘One of the Palace maids who came here, -told his Majesty that her heart had been torn with pity at what she -saw. And I, Madam, am in like case.’ Then after a little hesitation -she repeated the Emperor’s message: “For a while I searched in the -darkness of my mind, groping for an exit from my dream; but after long -pondering I can find no way to wake. There is none here to counsel me. -Will you not come to me secretly? It is not well that the young prince -should spend his days in so desolate and sad a place. Let him come -too!” This he said and much else, but confusedly and with many sighs; -and I, seeing that the struggle to hide his grief from me was costing -him dear, hurried away from the Palace without hearing all. But here -is a letter that he sent.’ - -‘My sight is dim’ said the mother. ‘Let me hold His letter to the -light.’ The letter said: - -‘I had thought that after a while there might be some blurring, some -slight effacement. But no. As days and months go by, the more -senseless, the more unendurable becomes my life. I am continually -thinking of the child, wondering how he fares. I had hoped that his -mother and I together would watch over his upbringing. Will you not -take her place in this, and bring him to me as a memory of the -past?’ Such was the letter, and many instructions were added to it -together with a poem which said ‘_At the sound of the wind that binds -the cold dew on Takagi moor, my heart goes out to the tender lilac -stems_.’ - -It was of the young prince that he spoke in symbol; but she did not -read the letter to the end. At last the mother said ‘Though I know -that long life means only bitterness, I have stayed so long in the -world that even before the Pine Tree of Takasago I should hide my head -in shame. How then should I find courage to go hither and thither in -the great Palace of a Hundred Towers? Though the august summons should -call me time and again, myself I could not obey. But the young prince -(whether he may have heard the august wish I know not) is impatient to -return, and, what is small wonder, seems very downcast in this place. -Tell his Majesty this, and whatever else of my thoughts you have here -learnt from me. For a little child this house is indeed a sorry -place....’ ‘They say that the child is asleep’ the quiver-bearer’s -daughter answered. ‘I should like to have seen him and told the -Emperor how he looks; but I am awaited at the Palace and it must be -late.’ - -She was hastening away, but the mother: ‘Since even those who wander -in the darkness of their own black thoughts can gain by converse a -momentary beam to guide their steps, I pray you sometimes to visit me -of your own accord and when you are at leisure. In years past it was -at times of joy and triumph that you came to this house, and now this -is the news you bring! Foolish are they indeed who trust to fortune! -From the time she was born until his death, her father, who knew his -own mind, would have it that she must go to Court and charged me again -and again not to disappoint his wishes if he were to die. And so, -though I thought that the lack of a guardian would bring her into -many difficulties, I was determined to carry out his desire. At Court -she found that favours only too great were to be hers, and all the -while must needs endure in secrecy the tokens of inhuman malice; till -hatred had heaped upon her so heavy a load of cares that she died as -it were murdered. Indeed, the love that in His wisdom He deigned to -show her (or so sometimes it seems to me in the uncomprehending -darkness of my heart) was crueller than indifference.’ - -So she spoke, till tears would let her speak no more; and now the -night had come. - -‘All this’ the girl answered ‘He himself has said; and further: “That -thus against My will and judgment I yielded helplessly to a passion so -reckless that it caused men’s eyes to blink was perhaps decreed for -the very reason that our time was fated to be so short; it was the -wild and vehement passion of those who are marked down for instant -separation. And though I had vowed that none should suffer because of -my love, yet in the end she bore upon her shoulders the heavy hatred -of many who thought that for her sake they had been wronged.” - -‘So again and again have I heard the Emperor speak with tears. But now -the night is far spent and I must carry my message to the Palace -before day comes.’ - -So she, weeping too, spoke as she hurried away. But the sinking moon -was shining in a cloudless sky, and in the grass-clumps that shivered -in the cold wind, bell-crickets tinkled their compelling cry. It was -hard to leave these grass-clumps, and the quiver-bearer’s daughter, -loth to ride away, recited the poem which says ‘Ceaseless as the -interminable voices of the bell-cricket, all night till dawn my tears -flow.’ The mother answered ‘Upon the thickets that teem with myriad -insect voices falls the dew of a Cloud Dweller’s tears’; for the -people of the Court are called _dwellers above the clouds_. Then -she gave the messenger a sash, a comb and other things that the dead -lady had left in her keeping,—gifts from the Emperor which now, since -their use was gone, she sent back to him as mementoes of the past. The -nurse-maids who had come with the boy were depressed not so much at -their mistress’s death as at being suddenly deprived of the daily -sights and sensations of the Palace. They begged to go back at once. -But the mother was determined not to go herself, knowing that she -would cut too forlorn a figure. On the other hand if she parted with -the boy, she would be daily in great anxiety about him. That was why -she did not immediately either go with him herself or send him to the -Palace. - -The quiver-bearer’s daughter found the Emperor still awake. He was, -upon pretext of visiting the flower-pots in front of the Palace which -were then in full bloom, waiting for her out of doors, while four or -five trusted ladies conversed with him. - -At this time it was his wont to examine morning and evening a picture -of The Everlasting Wrong,[6] the text written by Teiji no In,[7] with -poems by Ise[8] and Tsurayuki,[9] both in Yamato speech, and in that -of the men beyond the sea, and the story of this poem was the common -matter of his talk. - -Now he turned to the messenger and asked eagerly for all her news. And -when she had given him a secret and faithful account of the sad place -whence she had come, she handed him the mother’s letter: ‘His -Majesty’s gracious commands I read with reverence deeper than I can -express, but their purport has brought great darkness and confusion -to my mind.’ All this, together with a poem in which she compared -her grandchild to a flower which has lost the tree that sheltered it -from the great winds, was so wild and so ill-writ as only to be -suffered from the hand of one whose sorrow was as yet unhealed. - -Again the Emperor strove for self-possession in the presence of his -messenger. But as he pictured to himself the time when the dead lady -first came to him, a thousand memories pressed thick about him, and -recollection linked to recollection carried him onward, till he -shuddered to think how utterly unmarked, unheeded all these hours and -days had fled. - -At last he said ‘I too thought much and with delight how with most -profit might be fulfilled the wish that her father the Councillor left -behind him; but of that no more. If the young Prince lives occasion -may yet be found.... It is for his long life that we must pray.’ - -He looked at the presents she had brought back and ‘Would that like -the wizard you had brought a kingfisher-hairpin as token of your visit -to the place where her spirit dwells’ he cried, and recited the poem: -_Oh for a master of magic who might go and seek her, and by a message -teach me where her spirit dwells_. - -For the picture of Kuei-fei, skilful though the painter might be, was -but the work of a brush, and had no living fragrance. And though the -poet tells us that Kuei-fei’s grace was as that of ‘the hibiscus of -the Royal Lake or the willows of the Wei-yang Palace,’ the lady in the -picture was all paint and powder and had a simpering Chinesified air. - -But when he thought of the lost lady’s voice and form, he could find -neither in the beauty of flowers nor in the song of birds any fit -comparison. Continually he pined that fate should not have allowed -them to fulfil the vow which morning and evening was ever talked of -between them,—the vow that their lives should be as the twin birds -that share a wing, the twin trees that share a bough. The rustling of -the wind, the chirping of an insect would cast him into the deepest -melancholy; and now Kōkiden, who for a long while had not been -admitted to his chamber, must needs sit in the moonlight making music -far on into the night! This evidently distressed him in the highest -degree and those ladies and courtiers who were with him were equally -shocked and distressed on his behalf. But the offending lady was one -who stood much upon her dignity and she was determined to behave as -though nothing of any consequence had taken place in the Palace. - -And now the moon had set. The Emperor thought of the girl’s mother in -the house amid the thickets and wondered, making a poem of the -thought, with what feelings she had watched the sinking of the autumn -moon: ‘for even we Men above the Clouds were weeping when it sank.’ - -He raised the torches high in their sockets and still sat up. But at -last he heard voices coming from the Watch House of the Right and knew -that the hour of the Bull[10] had struck. Then, lest he should be -seen, he went into his chamber. He found he could not sleep and was up -before daybreak. But, as though he remembered the words ‘he knew not -the dawn was at his window’ of Ise’s poem,[11] he showed little -attention to the affairs of his Morning Audience, scarcely touched his -dried rice and seemed but dimly aware of the viands on the great -Table, so that the carvers and waiting-men groaned to see their -Master’s plight; and all his servants, both men and women kept on -whispering to one another ‘What a senseless occupation has ours -become!’ and supposed that he was obeying some extravagant vow. - -Regardless of his subjects’ murmurings, he continually allowed his -mind to wander from their affairs to his own, so that the scandal of -his negligence was now as dangerous to the State as it had been -before, and again there began to be whispered references to a certain -Emperor of another land. Thus the months and days passed, and in the -end the young prince arrived at Court. He had grown up to be a child -of unrivalled beauty and the Emperor was delighted with him. In the -spring an heir to the Throne was to be proclaimed and the Emperor was -sorely tempted to pass over the first-born prince in favour of the -young child. But there was no one at Court to support such a choice -and it was unlikely that it would be tolerated by the people; it would -indeed bring danger rather than glory to the child. So he carefully -concealed from the world that he had any such design, and gained great -credit, men saying ‘Though he dotes on the boy, there is at least some -limit to his folly.’ And even the great ladies of the Palace became a -little easier in their minds. - -The grandmother remained inconsolable, and impatient to set out upon -her search for the place where the dead lady’s spirit dwelt, she soon -expired. Again the Emperor was in great distress; and this time the -boy, being now six years old, understood what had happened and wept -bitterly. And often he spoke sadly of what he had seen when he was -brought to visit the poor dead lady who had for many years been so -kind to him. Henceforward he lived always at the Palace. When he -became seven he began to learn his letters, and his quickness was so -unusual that his father was amazed. Thinking that now no one would -have the heart to be unkind to the child, the Emperor began to take -him to the apartments of Kōkiden and the rest, saying to them ‘Now -that his mother is dead I know that you will be nice to him.’ Thus the -boy began to penetrate the Royal Curtain. The roughest soldier, -the bitterest foeman could not have looked on such a child without a -smile, and Kōkiden did not send him away. She had two daughters who -were indeed not such fine children as the little prince. He also -played with the Court Ladies, who, because he was now very pretty and -bashful in his ways, found endless amusement, as indeed did everyone -else, in sharing his games. As for his serious studies, he soon learnt -to send the sounds of zithern and flute flying gaily to the clouds. -But if I were to tell you of all his accomplishments, you would think -that he was soon going to become a bore. - -At this time some Koreans came to Court and among them a -fortune-teller. Hearing this, the Emperor did not send for them to -come to the Palace, because of the law against the admission of -foreigners which was made by the Emperor Uda.[12] But in strict -secrecy he sent the Prince to the Strangers’ quarters. He went under -the escort of the Secretary of the Right, who was to introduce him as -his own son. The fortune teller was astonished by the boy’s lineaments -and expressed his surprise by continually nodding his head: ‘He has -the marks of one who might become a Father of the State, and if this -were his fate, he would not stop short at any lesser degree than that -of Mighty King and Emperor of all the land. But when I look again—I -see that confusion and sorrow would attend his reign. But should he -become a great Officer of State and Counsellor of the Realm I see no -happy issue, for he would be defying those kingly signs of which I -spoke before.’ - -The Secretary was a most talented, wise and learned scholar, and now -began to conduct an interesting conversation with the fortune teller. -They exchanged essays and poems, and the fortune-teller made a -little speech, saying ‘It has been a great pleasure to me on the eve -of my departure to meet with a man of capacities so unusual; and -though I regret my departure I shall now take away most agreeable -impressions of my visit.’ The little prince presented him with a very -nice verse of poetry, at which he expressed boundless admiration and -offered the boy a number of handsome presents. In return the Emperor -sent him a large reward from the Imperial Treasury. This was all kept -strictly secret. But somehow or other the Heir Apparent’s grandfather, -the Minister of the Right, and others of his party got wind of -it and became very suspicious. The Emperor then sent for native -fortune-tellers and made trial of them, explaining that because of -certain signs which he had himself observed he had hitherto refrained -from making the boy a prince. With one accord they agreed that he had -acted with great prudence and the Emperor determined not to set the -child adrift upon the world as a prince without royal standing or -influence upon the mother’s side. For he thought ‘My own power is very -insecure. I had best set him to watch on my behalf over the great -Officers of State.’ Thinking that he had thus agreeably settled the -child’s future, he set seriously to work upon his education, and saw -to it that he should be made perfect in every branch of art and -knowledge. He showed such aptitude in all his studies that it seemed a -pity he should remain a commoner and as it had been decided that it -would arouse suspicion if he were made a prince, the Emperor consulted -with certain doctors wise in the lore of the planets and phases of the -moon. And they with one accord recommended that he should be made a -Member of the Minamoto (or Gen) Clan. So this was done. As the years -went by the Emperor did not forget his lost lady; and though many -women were brought to the Palace in the hope that he might take -pleasure in them, he turned from them all, believing that there was -not in the world any one like her whom he had lost. There was at that -time a lady whose beauty was of great repute. She was the fourth -daughter of the previous Emperor, and it was said that her mother, the -Dowager Empress, had brought her up with unrivalled care. A certain -Dame of the Household, who had served the former Emperor, was -intimately acquainted with the young Princess, having known her since -childhood and still having occasion to observe her from without. ‘I -have served in three courts’ said the Dame ‘and in all that time have -seen none who could be likened to the departed lady, save the daughter -of the Empress Mother. She indeed is a lady of rare beauty.’ So she -spoke to the Emperor, and he, much wondering what truth there was in -it, listened with great attention. The Empress Mother heard of this -with great alarm, for she remembered with what open cruelty the -sinister Lady Kōkiden had treated her former rival, and though she did -not dare speak openly of her fears, she was managing to delay the -girl’s presentation, when suddenly she died. - -The Emperor, hearing that the bereaved Princess was in a very desolate -condition, sent word gently telling her that he should henceforward -look upon her as though she were one of the Lady Princesses his -daughters. Her servants and guardians and her brother, Prince -Hyōbukyō, thought that life in the Palace might distract her and would -at least be better than the gloomy desolation of her home, and so they -sent her to the Court. She lived in apartments called Fujitsubo -(Wistaria Tub) and was known by this name. The Emperor could not deny -that she bore an astonishing resemblance to his beloved. She was -however of much higher rank, so that everyone was anxious to please -her, and, whatever happened, they were prepared to grant her the -utmost licence: whereas the dead lady had been imperilled by the -Emperor’s favour only because the Court was not willing to accept her. - -His old love did not now grow dimmer, and though he sometimes found -solace and distraction in shifting his thoughts from the lady who had -died to the lady who was so much like her, yet life remained for him a -sad business. - -Genji (‘he of the Minamoto clan’), as he was now called, was -constantly at the Emperor’s side. He was soon quite at his ease with -the common run of Ladies in Waiting and Ladies of the Wardrobe, so it -was not likely he would be shy with one who was daily summoned to the -Emperor’s apartments. It was but natural that all these ladies should -vie eagerly with one another for the first place in Genji’s -affections, and there were many whom in various ways he admired very -much. But most of them behaved in too grown-up a fashion; only one, -the new princess, was pretty and quite young as well, and though she -tried to hide from him, it was inevitable that they should often meet. -He could not remember his mother, but the Dame of the Household had -told him how very like to her the girl was, and this interested his -childish fancy, and he would like to have been her great friend and -lived with her always. One day the Emperor said to her ‘Do not be -unkind to him. He is interested because he has heard that you are so -like his mother. Do not think him impertinent, but behave nicely to -him. You are indeed so like him in look and features that you might -well be his mother.’ - -And so, young though he was, fleeting beauty took its hold upon his -thoughts; he felt his first clear predilection. - -Kōkiden had never loved this lady too well, and now her old enmity to -Genji sprang up again; her own children were reckoned to be of quite -uncommon beauty, but in this they were no match for Genji, who was so -lovely a boy that people called him Hikaru Genji or Genji the -Shining One; and Princess Fujitsubo, who also had many admirers, was -called Princess Glittering Sunshine. - -Though it seemed a shame to put so lovely a child into man’s dress, he -was now twelve years old and the time for his Initiation was come. The -Emperor directed the preparations with tireless zeal and insisted upon -a magnificence beyond what was prescribed. The Initiation of the Heir -Apparent, which had last year been celebrated in the Southern Hall, -was not a whit more splendid in its preparations. The ordering of the -banquets that were to be given in various quarters, and the work of -the Treasurer and Grain Intendant he supervised in person, fearing -lest the officials should be remiss; and in the end all was -perfection. The ceremony took place in the eastern wing of the -Emperor’s own apartments, and the Throne was placed facing towards the -east, with the seats of the Initiate to-be and his Sponsor (the -Minister of the Left) in front. - -Genji arrived at the hour of the Monkey.[13] He looked very handsome -with his long childish locks, and the Sponsor, whose duty it had just -been to bind them with the purple filet, was sorry to think that all -this would soon be changed and even the Clerk of the Treasury seemed -loath to sever those lovely tresses with the ritual knife. The -Emperor, as he watched, remembered for a moment what pride the mother -would have taken in the ceremony, but soon drove the weak thought from -his mind. - -Duly crowned, Genji went to his chamber and changing into man’s dress -went down into the courtyard and performed the Dance of Homage, which -he did with such grace that tears stood in every eye. And now the -Emperor, whose grief had of late grown somewhat less insistent, was -again overwhelmed by memories of the past. - -It had been feared that his delicate features would show to less -advantage when he had put aside his childish dress; but on the -contrary he looked handsomer than ever. - -His sponsor, the Minister of the Left, had an only daughter whose -beauty the Heir Apparent had noticed. But now the father began to -think he would not encourage that match, but would offer her to Genji. -He sounded the Emperor upon this, and found that he would be very glad -to obtain for the boy the advantage of so powerful a connection. - -When the courtiers assembled to drink the Love Cup, Genji came and -took his place among the other princes. The Minister of the Left came -up and whispered something in his ear; but the boy blushed and could -think of no reply. A chamberlain now came over to the Minister and -brought him a summons to wait upon His Majesty immediately. When he -arrived before the Throne, a Lady of the Wardrobe handed to him the -Great White Inner Garment and the Maid’s Skirt,[14] which were his -ritual due as Sponsor to the Prince. Then, when he had made him drink -out of the Royal Cup, the Emperor recited a poem in which he prayed -that the binding of the purple filet might symbolize the union of -their two houses; and the Minister answered him that nothing should -sever this union save the fading of the purple band. Then he descended -the long stairs and from the courtyard performed the Grand -Obeisance.[15] Here too were shown the horses from the Royal Stables -and the hawks from the Royal Falconry, that had been decreed as -presents for Genji. At the foot of the stairs the Princes and -Courtiers were lined up to receive their bounties, and gifts of every -kind were showered upon them. That day the hampers and fruit baskets -were distributed in accordance with the Emperor’s directions by the -learned Secretary of the Right, and boxes of cake and presents lay -about so thick that one could scarcely move. Such profusion had not -been seen even at the Heir Apparent’s Initiation. - -That night Genji went to the Minister’s house, where his betrothal was -celebrated with great splendour. It was thought that the little Prince -looked somewhat childish and delicate, but his beauty astonished -everyone. Only the bride, who was four years older, regarded him as a -mere baby and was rather ashamed of him. - -The Emperor still demanded Genji’s attendance at the Palace, so he did -not set up a house of his own. In his inmost heart he was always -thinking how much nicer _she_[16] was than anyone else, and only -wanted to be with people who were like her, but alas no one was the -least like her. Everyone seemed to make a great deal of fuss about -Princess Aoi, his betrothed; but he could see nothing nice about her. -The girl at the Palace now filled all his childish thoughts and this -obsession became a misery to him. - -Now that he was a ‘man’ he could no longer frequent the women’s -quarters as he had been wont to do. But sometimes when an -entertainment was a-foot he found comfort in hearing her voice dimly -blending with the sound of zithern or flute and felt his grown-up -existence to be unendurable. After an absence of five or six days he -would occasionally spend two or three at his betrothed’s house. His -father-in-law attributing this negligence to his extreme youth was not -at all perturbed and always received him warmly. Whenever he came the -most interesting and agreeable of the young people of the day were -asked to meet him and endless trouble was taken in arranging games to -amuse him. - -The Shigeisa, one of the rooms which had belonged to his mother, was -allotted to him as his official quarters in the Palace, and the -servants who had waited on her were now gathered together again and -formed his suite. His grandmother’s house was falling into decay. The -Imperial Office of Works was ordered to repair it. The grouping of the -trees and disposition of the surrounding hills had always made the -place delightful. Now the basin of the lake was widened and many other -improvements were carried out. ‘If only I were going to live here with -someone whom I liked,’ thought Genji sadly. - -Some say that the name of Hikaru the Shining One was given to him in -admiration by the Korean fortune-teller.[17] - -[1] This chapter should be read with indulgence. In it Murasaki, still -under the influence of her somewhat childish predecessors, writes in a -manner which is a blend of the Court chronicle with the conventional -fairy-tale. - -[2] Famous Emperor of the T‘ang dynasty in China; lived A.D. 685–762. - -[3] The child of an Emperor could not be shown to him for several -weeks after its birth. - -[4] I.e. be made Heir Apparent. - -[5] She herself was of course carried in a litter. - -[6] A poem by the Chinese writer Po Chü-i about the death of Yang -Kuei-fei, favourite of the Emperor Ming Huang. _See_ Giles, _Chinese -Literature_, p. 169. - -[7] Name of the Emperor Uda after his retirement in A.D. 897. - -[8] Poetess, 9th century. - -[9] Famous poet, 883–946 A.D. - -[10] 1 A.M. - -[11] A poem by Lady Ise written on a picture illustrating Po Chü-i’s -_Everlasting Wrong_. - -[12] Reigned 889–897. The law in question was made in 894. - -[13] 3 P.M. - -[14] These symbolized the unmanly life of childhood which Genji had -now put behind him. - -[15] The _butō_, a form of kowtow so elaborate as to be practically a -dance. - -[16] Fujitsubo. - -[17] This touch is reminiscent of early chronicles such as the -_Nihongi_, which delight in alternative explanations. In the -subsequent chapters such archaisms entirely disappear. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - THE BROOM-TREE - - -Genji the Shining One.... He knew that the bearer of such a name could -not escape much scrutiny and jealous censure and that his lightest -dallyings would be proclaimed to posterity. Fearing then lest he -should appear to after ages as a mere good-for-nothing and trifler, -and knowing that (so accursed is the blabbing of gossips’ tongues) his -most secret acts might come to light, he was obliged always to act -with great prudence and to preserve at least the outward appearance of -respectability. Thus nothing really romantic ever happened to him and -Katano no Shōshō[1] would have scoffed at his story. - -While he was still a Captain of the Guard and was spending most of his -time at the Palace, his infrequent visits to the Great Hall[2] were -taken as a sign that some secret passion had made its imprint on his -heart. But in reality the frivolous, commonplace, straight-ahead -amours of his companions did not in the least interest him, and it was -a curious trait in his character that when on rare occasions, despite -all resistance, love did gain a hold upon him, it was always in the -most improbable and hopeless entanglement that he became involved. - -It was the season of the long rains. For many days there had not been -a fine moment and the Court was keeping a strict fast. The people at -the Great Hall were becoming very impatient of Genji’s long residence -at the Palace, but the young lords, who were Court pages, liked -waiting upon Genji better than upon anyone else, always managing to -put out his clothes and decorations in some marvellous new way. Among -these brothers his greatest friend was the Equerry, Tō no Chūjō, with -whom above all other companions of his playtime he found himself -familiar and at ease. This lord too found the house which his -father-in-law, the Minister of the Right, had been at pains to build -for him, somewhat oppressive, while at his father’s house he, like -Genji, found the splendours somewhat dazzling, so that he ended by -becoming Genji’s constant companion at Court. They shared both studies -and play and were inseparable companions on every sort of occasion, so -that soon all formalities were dispensed with between them and the -inmost secrets of their hearts freely exchanged. - -It was on a night when the rain never ceased its dismal downpour. -There were not many people about in the palace and Genji’s rooms -seemed even quieter than usual. He was sitting by the lamp, looking at -various books and papers. Suddenly he began pulling some letters out -of the drawers of a desk which stood near by. This aroused Tō no -Chūjō’s curiosity. ‘Some of them I can show to you’ said Genji, ‘but -there are others which I had rather....’ ‘It is just those which I -want to see. Ordinary, commonplace letters are very much alike and I -do not suppose that yours differ much from mine. What I want to see -are passionate letters written in moments of resentment, letters -hinting consent, letters written at dusk....’ - -He begged so eagerly that Genji let him examine the drawers. It was -not indeed likely that he had put any very important or secret -documents in the ordinary desk; he would have hidden them away much -further from sight. So he felt sure that the letters in these drawers -would be nothing to worry about. After turning over a few of them, -‘What an astonishing variety!’ Tō no Chūjō exclaimed and began -guessing at the writers’ names, and made one or two good hits. More -often he was wrong and Genji, amused by his puzzled air, said very -little but generally managed to lead him astray. At last he took the -letters back, saying ‘But you too must have a large collection. Show -me some of yours, and my desk will open to you with better will.’ ‘I -have none that you would care to see,’ said Tō no Chūjō, and he -continued: ‘I have at last discovered that there exists no woman of -whom one can say “Here is perfection. This is indeed she.” There are -many who have the superficial art of writing a good running hand, or -if occasion requires of making a quick repartee. But there are few who -will stand the ordeal of any further test. Usually their minds are -entirely occupied by admiration for their own accomplishments, and -their abuse of all rivals creates a most unpleasant impression. Some -again are adored by over-fond parents. These have been since childhood -guarded behind lattice windows[3] and no knowledge of them is allowed -to reach the outer-world, save that of their excellence in some -accomplishment or art; and this may indeed sometimes arouse our -interest. She is pretty and graceful and has not yet mixed at all with -the world. Such a girl by closely copying some model and applying -herself with great industry will often succeed in really mastering one -of the minor and ephemeral arts. Her friends are careful to say -nothing of her defects and to exaggerate her accomplishments, and -while we cannot altogether trust their praise we cannot believe that -their judgment is entirely astray. But when we take steps to test -their statements we are invariably disappointed.’ - -He paused, seeming to be slightly ashamed of the cynical tone which he -had adopted, and added ‘I know my experience is not large, but that is -the conclusion I have come to so far.’ Then Genji, smiling: ‘And are -there any who lack even one accomplishment?’ ‘No doubt, but in such a -case it is unlikely that anyone would be successfully decoyed. The -number of those who have nothing to recommend them and of those in -whom nothing but good can be found is probably equal. I divide women -into three classes. Those of high rank and birth are made such a fuss -of and their weak points are so completely concealed that we are -certain to be told that they are paragons. About those of the middle -class everyone is allowed to express his own opinion, and we shall -have much conflicting evidence to sift. As for the lower classes, they -do not concern us.’ - -The completeness with which Tō no Chūjō disposed of the question -amused Genji, who said ‘It will not always be so easy to know into -which of the three classes a woman ought to be put. For sometimes -people of high rank sink to the most abject positions; while others of -common birth rise to be high officers, wear self-important faces, -redecorate the inside of their houses and think themselves as good as -anyone. How are we to deal with such cases?’ - -At this moment they were joined by Hidari no Uma no Kami and Tō -Shikibu no Jō, who said they had also come to the Palace to keep the -fast. As both of them were great lovers and good talkers, Tō no Chūjō -handed over to them the decision of Genji’s question, and in the -discussion which followed many unflattering things were said. Uma -no Kami spoke first. ‘However high a lady may rise, if she does not -come of an adequate stock, the world will think very differently of -her from what it would of one born to such honours; but if through -adverse fortune a lady of highest rank finds herself in friendless -misery, the noble breeding of her mind is soon forgotten and she -becomes an object of contempt. I think then that taking all things -into account, we must put such ladies too into the “middle class.” But -when we come to classify the daughters of Zuryō,[4] who are sent to -labour at the affairs of distant provinces,—they have such ups and -downs that we may reasonably put them too into the middle class. - -‘Then there are Ministers of the third and fourth classes without -Cabinet rank. These are generally thought less of even than the -humdrum, ordinary officials. They are usually of quite good birth, but -have much less responsibility than Ministers of State and consequently -much greater peace of mind. Girls born into such households are -brought up in complete security from want or deprivation of any kind, -and indeed often amid surroundings of the utmost luxury and splendour. -Many of them grow up into women whom it would be folly to despise; -some have been admitted at Court, where they have enjoyed a quite -unexpected success. And of this I could cite many, many instances.’ - -‘Their success has generally been due to their having a lot of money,’ -said Genji smiling. ‘You should have known better than to say that,’ -said Tō no Chūjō, reproving him, and Uma no Kami went on: ‘There are -some whose lineage and reputation are so high that it never occurs to -one that their education could possibly be at fault; yet when we meet -them, we find ourselves exclaiming in despair “How can they have -contrived to grow up like this?” - -‘No doubt the perfect woman in whom none of those essentials is -lacking must somewhere exist and it would not startle me to find her. -But she would certainly be beyond the reach of a humble person like -myself, and for that reason I should like to put her in a category of -her own and not to count her in our present classification. - -‘But suppose that behind some gateway overgrown with vine-weed, in a -place where no one knows there is a house at all, there should be -locked away some creature of unimagined beauty—with what excitement -should we discover her! The complete surprise of it, the upsetting of -all our wise theories and classifications, would be likely, I think, -to lay a strange and sudden enchantment upon us. I imagine her father -rather large and gruff; her brother, a surly, ill-looking fellow. -Locked away in an utterly blank and uninteresting bed-room she will be -subject to odd flights of fancy, so that in her hands the arts that -others learn as trivial accomplishments will seem strangely full of -meaning and importance; or perhaps in some particular art she will -thrill us by her delightful and unexpected mastery. Such a one may -perhaps be beneath the attention of those of you who are of flawless -lineage. But for my part I find it hard to banish her ...’ and here he -looked at Shikibu no Jō, who wondered whether the description had been -meant to apply to his own sisters, but said nothing. ‘If it is -difficult to choose even out of the top class ...’ thought Genji, and -began to doze. - -He was dressed in a suit of soft white silk, with a rough cloak -carelessly slung over his shoulders, with belt and fastenings untied. -In the light of the lamp against which he was leaning he looked so -lovely that one might have wished he were a girl; and they thought -that even Uma no Kami’s ‘perfect woman,’ whom he had placed in a -category of her own, would not be worthy of such a prince as Genji. - -The conversation went on. Many persons and things were discussed. Uma -no Kami contended that perfection is equally difficult to find in -other spheres. The sovereign is hard put to it to choose his -ministers. But he at least has an easier task than the husband, for he -does not entrust the affairs of his kingdom to one, two or three -persons alone, but sets up a whole system of superiors and subordinates. - -But when the mistress of a house is to be selected, a single -individual must be found who will combine in her person many diverse -qualities. It will not do to be too exacting. Let us be sure that the -lady of our choice possesses certain tangible qualities which we -admire; and if in other ways she falls short of our ideal, we must be -patient and call to mind those qualities which first induced us to -begin our courting. - -But even here we must beware; for there are some who in the -selfishness of youth and flawless beauty are determined that not a -dust-flick shall fall upon them. In their letters they choose the most -harmless topics, but yet contrive to colour the very texture of the -written signs with a tenderness that vaguely disquiets us. But such a -one, when we have at last secured a meeting, will speak so low that -she can scarcely be heard, and the few faint sentences that she -murmurs beneath her breath serve only to make her more mysterious than -before. All this may seem to be the pretty shrinking of girlish -modesty; but we may later find that what held her back was the very -violence of her passions. - -Or again, where all seems plain sailing, the perfect companion will -turn out to be too impressionable and will upon the most inappropriate -occasions display her affections in so ludicrous a way that we begin -to wish ourselves rid of her. - -Then there is the zealous house-wife, who regardless of her appearance -twists her hair behind her ears and devotes herself entirely to the -details of our domestic welfare. The husband, in his comings and -goings about the world, is certain to see and hear many things which -he cannot discuss with strangers, but would gladly talk over with an -intimate who could listen with sympathy and understanding, someone who -could laugh with him or weep if need be. It often happens too that -some political event will greatly perturb or amuse him, and he sits -apart longing to tell someone about it. He suddenly laughs at some -secret recollection or sighs audibly. But the wife only says lightly -‘What is the matter?’ and shows no interest. - -This is apt to be very trying. - -Uma no Kami considered several other cases. But he reached no definite -conclusion and sighing deeply he continued: ‘We will then, as I have -suggested, let birth and beauty go by the board. Let her be the -simplest and most guileless of creatures so long as she is honest and -of a peaceable disposition, that in the end we may not lack a place of -trust. And if some other virtue chances to be hers we shall treasure -it as a godsend. But if we discover in her some small defect, it shall -not be too closely scrutinized. And we may be sure that if she is -strong in the virtues of tolerance and amiability her outward -appearance will not be beyond measure harsh. - -‘There are those who carry forbearance too far, and affecting not to -notice wrongs which cry out for redress seem to be paragons of misused -fidelity. But suddenly a time comes when such a one can restrain -herself no longer, and leaving behind her a poem couched in pitiful -language and calculated to rouse the most painful sentiments of -remorse, she flies to some remote village in the mountains or some -desolate seashore, and for a long while all trace of her is lost. - -‘When I was a boy the ladies-in-waiting used to tell me sad tales of -this kind. I never doubted that the sentiments expressed in them were -real, and I wept profusely. But now I am beginning to suspect that -such sorrows are for the most part affectation. She has left behind -her (this lady whom we are imagining) a husband who is probably still -fond of her; she is making herself very unhappy, and by disappearing -in this way is causing him unspeakable anxiety, perhaps only for the -ridiculous purpose of putting his affection to the test. Then comes -along some admiring friend crying “What a heart! What depth of -feeling!” She becomes more lugubrious than ever, and finally enters a -nunnery. When she decided on this step she was perfectly sincere and -had not the slightest intention of ever returning to the world. Then -some female friend hears of it and “Poor thing” she cries; “in what an -agony of mind must she have been to do this!” and visits her in her -cell. When the husband, who has never ceased to mourn for her, hears -what she has become, he bursts into tears, and some servant or old -nurse, seeing this, bustles off to the nunnery with tales of the -husband’s despair, and “Oh Madam, what a shame, what a shame!” Then -the nun, forgetting where and what she is, raises her hand to her head -to straighten her hair, and finds that it has been shorn away. In -helpless misery she sinks to the floor, and do what she will, the -tears begin to flow. Now all is lost; for since she cannot at every -moment be praying for strength, there creeps into her mind the sinful -thought that she did ill to become a nun and so often does she commit -this sin that even Buddha must think her wickeder now than she was -before she took her vows; and she feels certain that these terrible -thoughts are leading her soul to the blackest Hell. But if the _karma_ -of their past lives should chance to be strongly weighted against a -parting, she will be found and captured before she has taken her final -vows. In such a case their life will be beyond endurance unless she be -fully determined, come good or ill, this time to close her eyes to all -that goes amiss. - -‘Again there are others who must needs be forever mounting guard over -their own and their husband’s affections. Such a one, if she sees in -him not a fault indeed but even the slightest inclination to stray, -makes a foolish scene, declaring with indignation that she will have -no more to do with him. - -‘But even if a man’s fancy should chance indeed to have gone somewhat -astray, yet his earlier affection may still be strong and in the end -will return to its old haunts. Now by her tantrums she has made a rift -that cannot be joined. Whereas she who when some small wrong calls for -silent rebuke, shows by a glance that she is not unaware; but when -some large offence demands admonishment knows how to hint without -severity, will end by standing in her master’s affections better than -ever she stood before. For often the sight of our own forbearance will -give our neighbour strength to rule his mutinous affections. - -‘But she whose tolerance and forgiveness know no bounds, though this -may seem to proceed from the beauty and amiability of her disposition, -is in fact displaying the shallowness of her feeling: “The unmoored -boat must needs drift with the stream.” Are you not of this mind?’ - -Tō no Chūjō nodded. ‘Some’ he said ‘have imagined that by arousing a -baseless suspicion in the mind of the beloved we can revive a waning -devotion. But this experiment is very dangerous. Those who recommend -it are confident that so long as resentment is groundless one need -only suffer it in silence and all will soon be well. I have observed -however that this is by no means the case. - -‘But when all is said and done, there can be no greater virtue in -woman than this: that she should with gentleness and forbearance meet -every wrong whatsoever that falls to her share.’ He thought as he said -this of his own sister, Princess Aoi; but was disappointed and piqued -to discover that Genji, whose comments he awaited, was fast asleep. - -Uma no Kami was an expert in such discussions and now stood preening -his feathers. Tō no Chūjō was disposed to hear what more he had to say -and was now at pains to humour and encourage him. - -‘It is with women’ said Uma no Kami ‘as it is with the works of -craftsmen. The wood-carver can fashion whatever he will. Yet his -products are but toys of the moment, to be glanced at in jest, not -fashioned according to any precept or law. When times change, the -carver too will change his style and make new trifles to hit the fancy -of the passing day. But there is another kind of artist, who sets more -soberly about his work, striving to give real beauty to the things -which men actually use and to give to them the shapes which tradition -has ordained. This maker of real things must not for a moment be -confused with the carver of idle toys. - -‘In the Painters’ Workshop too there are many excellent artists chosen -for their proficiency in ink-drawing; and indeed they are all so -clever it is hard to set one above the other. But all of them are at -work on subjects intended to impress and surprise. One paints the -Mountain of Hōrai; another a raging sea-monster riding a storm; -another, ferocious animals from the Land beyond the sea, or faces of -imaginary demons. Letting their fancy run wildly riot they have no -thought of beauty, but only of how best they may astonish the -beholder’s eye. And though nothing in their pictures is real, all is -probable. But ordinary hills and rivers, just as they are, houses such -as you may see anywhere, with all their real beauty and harmony of -form—quietly to draw such scenes as this, or to show what lies behind -some intimate hedge that is folded away far from the world, and thick -trees upon some unheroic hill, and all this with befitting care for -composition, proportion, and the like,—such works demand the highest -master’s utmost skill and must needs draw the common craftsman into a -thousand blunders. So too in handwriting, we see some who aimlessly -prolong their cursive strokes this way or that, and hope their -flourishes will be mistaken for genius. But true penmanship preserves -in every letter its balance and form, and though at first some letters -may seem but half-formed, yet when we compare them with the copy-books -we find that there is nothing at all amiss. - -‘So it is in these trifling matters. And how much the more in judging -of the human heart should we distrust all fashionable airs and graces, -all tricks and smartness, learnt only to please the outward gaze! This -I first understood some while ago, and if you will have patience with -me I will tell you the story.’ - -So saying, he came and sat a little closer to them, and Genji woke up. -Tō no Chūjō, in wrapt attention, was sitting with his cheek propped -upon his hand. Uma no Kami’s whole speech that night was indeed very -much like a chaplain’s sermon about the ways of the world, and was -rather absurd. But upon such occasions as this we are easily led on -into discussing our own ideas and most private secrets without the -least reserve. - -‘It happened when I was young, and in an even more humble position -than I am to-day’ Uma no Kami continued. ‘I was in love with a girl -who (like the drudging, faithful wife of whom I spoke a little -while ago) was not a full-sail beauty; and I in my youthful vanity -thought she was all very well for the moment, but would never do for -the wife of so fine a fellow as I. She made an excellent companion in -times when I was at a loose end; but she was of a disposition so -violently jealous, that I could have put up with a little less -devotion if only she had been somewhat less fiercely ardent and -exacting. - -‘Thus I kept thinking, vexed by her unrelenting suspicions. But then I -would remember her ceaseless devotion to the interests of one who was -after all a person of no account, and full of remorse I made sure that -with a little patience on my part she would one day learn to school -her jealousy. - -‘It was her habit to minister to my smallest wants even before I was -myself aware of them; whatever she felt was lacking in her she strove -to acquire, and where she knew that in some quality of mind she still -fell behind my desires, she was at pains never to show her deficiency -in such a way as might vex me. Thus in one way or another she was -always busy in forwarding my affairs, and she hoped that if all down -to the last dew drop (as they say) were conducted as I should wish, -this would be set down to her credit and help to balance the defects -in her person which meek and obliging as she might be could not (she -fondly imagined) fail to offend me; and at this time she even hid -herself from strangers lest their poor opinion of her looks should put -me out of countenance. - -‘I meanwhile, becoming used to her homely looks, was well content with -her character, save for this one article of jealousy; and here she -showed no amendment. Then I began to think to myself “Surely, since -she seems so anxious to please, so timid, there must be some way of -giving her a fright which will teach her a lesson, so that for a while -at least we may have a respite from this accursed business.” And -though I knew it would cost me dear, I determined to make a pretence -of giving her up, thinking that since she was so fond of me this would -be the best way to teach her a lesson. Accordingly I behaved with the -greatest coldness to her, and she as usual began her jealous fit and -behaved with such folly that in the end I said to her, “If you want to -be rid for ever of one who loves you dearly, you are going the right -way about it by all these endless poutings over nothing at all. But if -you want to go on with me, you must give up suspecting some deep -intrigue each time you fancy that I am treating you unkindly. Do this, -and you may be sure I shall continue to love you dearly. It may well -be that as time goes on, I shall rise a little higher in the world and -then....” - -‘I thought I had managed matters very cleverly, though perhaps in the -heat of the moment I might have spoken somewhat too roughly. She -smiled faintly and answered that if it were only a matter of bearing -for a while with my failures and disappointments, that did not trouble -her at all, and she would gladly wait till I became a person of -consequence. “But it is a hard task” she said “to go on year after -year enduring your coldness and waiting the time when you will at last -learn to behave to me with some decency; and therefore I agree with -you that the time has come when we had better go each his own way.” -Then in a fit of wild and uncontrollable jealousy she began to pour -upon me a torrent of bitter reproaches, and with a woman’s savagery -she suddenly seized my little finger and bit deep into it. The -unexpected pain was difficult to bear, but composing myself I said -tragically “Now you have put this mark upon me I shall get on worse -than ever in polite society; as for promotion, I shall be considered a -disgrace to the meanest public office and unable to cut a genteel -figure in any capacity, I shall be obliged to withdraw myself -completely from the world. You and I at any rate shall certainly not -meet again,” and bending my injured finger as I turned to go, I -recited the verse “As on bent hand I count the times that we have met, -it is not one finger only that bears witness to my pain.” And she, all -of a sudden bursting into tears ... “If still in your heart only you -look for pains to count, then were our hands best employed in -parting.” After a few more words I left her, not for a moment thinking -that all was over. - -‘Days went by, and no news. I began to be restless. One night when I -had been at the Palace for the rehearsal of the Festival music, heavy -sleet was falling; and I stood at the spot where those of us who came -from the Palace had dispersed, unable to make up my mind which way to -go. For in no direction had I anything which could properly be called -a home. I might of course take a room in the Palace precincts; but I -shivered to think of the cheerless grandeur that would surround me. -Suddenly I began to wonder what she was thinking, how she was looking; -and brushing the snow off my shoulders, I set out for her house. I own -I felt uneasy; but I thought that after so long a time her anger must -surely have somewhat abated. Inside the room a lamp showed dimly, -turned to the wall. Some undergarments were hung out upon a large, -warmly-quilted couch, the bed-hangings were drawn up, and I made sure -that she was for some reason actually expecting me. I was priding -myself on having made so lucky a hit, when suddenly, “Not at home!”; -and on questioning the maid I learnt that she had but that very night -gone to her parents’ home, leaving only a few necessary servants -behind. The fact that she had till now sent no poem or conciliatory -message seemed to show some hardening of heart, and had already -disquieted me. Now I began to fear that her accursed suspiciousness -and jealousy had but been a stratagem to make me grow weary of her, -and though I could recall no further proof of this I fell into great -despair. And to show her that, though we no longer met, I still -thought of her and planned for her, I got her some stuff for a dress, -choosing a most delightful and unusual shade of colour, and a material -that I knew she would be glad to have. “For after all” I thought “she -cannot want to put me altogether out of her head.” When I informed her -of this purchase she did not rebuff me nor make any attempt to hide -from me, but to all my questions she answered quietly and composedly, -without any sign that she was ashamed of herself. - -‘At last she told me that if I went on as before, she could never -forgive me; but if I would promise to live more quietly she would take -me back again. Seeing that she still hankered after me I determined to -school her a little further yet, and said that I could make no -conditions and must be free to live as I chose. So the tug of war went -on; but it seems that it hurt her far more than I knew, for in a -little while she fell into a decline and died, leaving me aghast at -the upshot of my wanton game. And now I felt that, whatever faults she -might have had, her devotion alone would have made her a fit wife for -me. I remembered how both in trivial talk and in consideration of -important matters she had never once shown herself at a loss, how in -the dyeing of brocades she rivalled the Goddess of Tatsuta who tints -the autumn leaves, and how in needlework and the like she was not less -skilful than Tanabata, the Weaving-lady of the sky.’ - -Here he stopped, greatly distressed at the recollection of the lady’s -many talents and virtues. - -‘The Weaving-lady and the Herd boy’ said Tō no Chūjō ‘enjoy a love -that is eternal. Had she but resembled the Divine Sempstress in -this, you would not, I think, have minded her being a little less -skilful with her needle. I wonder that with this rare creature in mind -you pronounce the world to be so blank a place.’ - -‘Listen’ replied Uma no Kami ‘About the same time there was another -lady whom I used to visit. She was of higher birth than the first; her -skill in poetry, cursive writing, and lute-playing, her readiness of -hand and tongue were all marked enough to show that she was not a -woman of trivial nature; and this indeed was allowed by those who knew -her. To add to this she was not ill-looking and sometimes, when I -needed a rest from my unhappy persecutress, I used to visit her -secretly. In the end I found that I had fallen completely in love with -her. After the death of the other I was in great distress. But it was -no use brooding over the past and I began to visit my new lady more -and more often. I soon came to the conclusion that she was frivolous -and I had no confidence that I should have liked what went on when I -was not there to see. I now visited her only at long intervals and at -last decided that she had another lover. - -‘It was during the Godless Month,[5] on a beautiful moonlight night. -As I was leaving the Palace I met a certain young courtier, who, when -I told him that I was driving out to spend the night at the -Dainagon’s, said that my way was his and joined me. The road passed my -lady’s house and here it was that he alighted, saying that he had an -engagement which he should have been very sorry not to fulfil. The -wall was half in ruins and through its gaps I saw the shadowy waters -of the lake. It would not have been easy (for even the moonbeams -seemed to loiter here!) to hasten past so lovely a place, and when he -left his coach I too left mine. - -‘At once this man (whom I now knew to be that other lover whose -existence I had guessed) went and sat unconcernedly on the bamboo -skirting of the portico and began to gaze at the moon. The -chrysanthemums were just in full bloom, the bright fallen leaves were -tumbling and tussling in the wind. It was indeed a scene of wonderful -beauty that met our eyes. Presently he took a flute out of the folds -of his dress and began to play upon it. Then putting the flute aside, -he began to murmur “Sweet is the shade”[6] and other catches. Soon a -pleasant-sounding native zithern[7] began to tune up somewhere within -the house and an ingenious accompaniment was fitted to his careless -warblings. Her zithern was tuned to the autumn-mode, and she played -with so much tenderness and feeling that though the music came from -behind closed shutters it sounded quite modern and passionate,[8] and -well accorded with the soft beauty of the moonlight. The courtier was -ravished, and as he stepped forward to place himself right under her -window he turned to me and remarked in a self-satisfied way that -among the fallen leaves no other footstep had left its mark. Then -plucking a chrysanthemum, he sang: - - Strange that the music of your lute, - These matchless flowers and all the beauty of the night, - Have lured no other feet to linger at your door! - -and then, beseeching her pardon for his halting verses, he begged her -to play again while one was still near who longed so passionately to -hear her. When he had paid her many other compliments, the lady -answered in an affected voice with the verse: - - Would that I had some song that might detain - The flute that blends its note - With the low rustling of the autumn leaves. - -and after these blandishments, still unsuspecting, she took up the -thirteen-stringed lute, and tuning it to the _Banjiki_ mode[9] she -clattered at the strings with all the frenzy that fashion now demands. -It was a fine performance no doubt, but I cannot say that it made a -very agreeable impression upon me. - -‘A man may amuse himself well enough by trifling from time to time -with some lady at the Court; will get what pleasure he can out of it -while he is with her and not trouble his head about what goes on when -he is not there. This lady too I only saw from time to time, but such -was her situation that I had once fondly imagined myself the only -occupant of her thoughts. However that night’s work dissolved the last -shred of my confidence, and I never saw her again. - -‘These two experiences, falling to my lot while I was still so young, -early deprived me of any hope from women. And since that time my view -of them has but grown the blacker. No doubt to you at your age they -seem very entrancing, these “dew-drops on the grass that fall if they -are touched,” these “glittering hailstones that melt if gathered in -the hand.” But when you are a little older you will think as I do. -Take my advice in this at least; beware of caressing manners and soft, -entangling ways. For if you are so rash as to let them lead you -astray, you will soon find yourselves cutting a very silly figure -in the world.’ - -Tō no Chūjō as usual nodded his assent, and Genji’s smile seemed such -as to show that he too accepted Uma no Kami’s advice. ‘Your two -stories were certainly very dismal’ he said, laughing. And here Tō no -Chūjō interposed: ‘I will tell you a story about myself. There was a -lady whose acquaintance I was obliged to make with great secrecy. But -her beauty well rewarded my pains, and though I had no thought of -making her my wife I grew so fond of her that I soon found I could not -put her out of my head and she seemed to have complete confidence in -me. Such confidence indeed that when from time to time I was obliged -to behave in such a way as might well have aroused her resentment, she -seemed not to notice that anything was amiss, and even when I -neglected her for many weeks, she treated me as though I were still -coming every day. In the end indeed I found this readiness to receive -me whenever and however I came very painful, and determined for the -future to merit her strange confidence. - -‘Her parents were dead and this was perhaps why, since I was all she -had in the world, she treated me with such loving meekness, despite -the many wrongs I did her. I must own that my resolution did not last -long, and I was soon neglecting her worse than before. During this -time (I did not hear of it till afterwards) someone who had discovered -our friendship began to send her veiled messages which cruelly -frightened and distressed her. Knowing nothing of the trouble she was -in, although I often thought of her I neither came nor wrote to her -for a long while. Just when she was in her worst despair a child was -born, and at last in her distress she plucked a blossom of the flower -that is called “Child of my Heart” and sent it to me.’ - -And here Tō no Chūjō’s eyes filled with tears. - -‘Well’ said Genji ‘and did she write a message to go with it?’ ‘Oh -nothing very out-of-the-ordinary’ said Tō no Chūjō. ‘She wrote: -“Though tattered be the hillman’s hedge, deign sometimes to look with -kindness upon the Child-flower that grows so sweetly there.” This -brought me to her side. As usual she did not reproach me, but she -looked sad enough, and when I considered the dreary desolation of this -home where every object wore an aspect no less depressing than the -wailing voices of the crickets in the grass, she seemed to me like -some unhappy princess in an ancient story, and wishing her to feel -that it was for the mother’s sake and not the child’s that I had come, -I answered with a poem in which I called the Child-flower by its other -name “Bed-flower,” and she replied with a poem that darkly hinted at -the cruel tempest which had attended this Bed-flower’s birth. She -spoke lightly and did not seem to be downright angry with me; and when -a few tears fell she was at great pains to hide them, and seemed more -distressed at the thought that I might imagine her to be unhappy than -actually resentful of my conduct towards her. So I went away with an -easy mind and it was some while before I came again. When at last I -returned she had utterly disappeared, and if she is alive she must be -living a wretched vagrant life. If while I still loved her she had but -shown some outward sign of her resentment, she would not have ended -thus as an outcast and wanderer; for I should never have dared to -leave her so long neglected, and might in the end have acknowledged -her and made her mine forever. The child too was a sweet creature, and -I have spent much time in searching for them, but still without success. - -‘It is, I fear, as sorrowful a tale as that which Uma no Kami has told -you. I, unfaithful, thought that I was not missed; and she, still -loved, was in no better case than one whose love is not returned. -I indeed am fast forgetting her; but she, it may be, cannot put me out -of her mind and I fear there may be nights when thoughts that she -would gladly banish burn fiercely in her breast; for now I fancy she -must be living a comfortless and unprotected life.’ - -‘When all is said and done’ said Uma no Kami ‘my friend, though I pine -for her now that she is gone, was a sad plague to me while I had her, -and we must own that such a one will in the end be sure to make us -wish ourselves well rid of her. The zithern-player had much talent to -her credit, but was a great deal too light-headed. And your diffident -lady, Tō no Chūjō, seems to me to be a very suspicious case. The world -appears to be so constructed that we shall in the end be always at a -loss to make a reasoned choice; despite all our picking, sifting and -comparing we shall never succeed in finding this in all ways and to -all lengths adorable and impeccable female.’ - -‘I can only suggest the Goddess Kichijō’[10] said Tō no Chūjō ‘and I -fear that intimacy with so holy and majestic a being might prove to be -impracticable.’ - -At this they all laughed and Tō no Chūjō continued: ‘But now it is -Shikibu’s turn and he is sure to give us something entertaining. Come -Shikibu, keep the ball rolling!’ ‘Nothing of interest ever happens to -humble folk like myself’ said Shikibu; but Tō no Chūjō scolded him for -keeping them waiting and after reflecting for a while which anecdote -would best suit the company, he began: ‘While I was still a student at -the University, I came across a woman who was truly a prodigy of -intelligence. One of Uma no Kami’s demands she certainly fulfilled, -for it was possible to discuss with her to advantage both public -matters and the proper handling of one’s private affairs. But not only -was her mind capable of grappling with any problems of this kind; -she was also so learned that ordinary scholars found themselves, to -their humiliation, quite unable to hold their own against her. - -‘I was taking lessons from her father, who was a Professor. I had -heard that he had several daughters, and some accidental circumstance -made it necessary for me to exchange a word or two with one of them -who turned out to be the learned prodigy of whom I have spoken. The -father, hearing that we had been seen together, came up to me with a -wine-cup in his hand and made an allusion to the poem of The Two -Wives.[11] Unfortunately I did not feel the least inclination towards -the lady. However I was very civil to her; upon which she began to -take an affectionate interest in me and lost no opportunity of -displaying her talents by giving me the most elaborate advice how best -I might advance my position in the world. She sent me marvellous -letters written in a very far-fetched epistolary style and entirely in -Chinese characters; in return for which I felt bound to visit her, and -by making her my teacher I managed to learn how to write Chinese -poems. They were wretched, knock-kneed affairs, but I am still -grateful to her for it. She was not however at all the sort of woman -whom I should have cared to have as a wife, for though there may be -certain disadvantages in marrying a complete dolt, it is even worse to -marry a blue-stocking. Still less do princes like you and Genji -require so huge a stock of intellect and erudition for your support! -Let her but be one to whom the _karma_ of our past lives draws us in -natural sympathy, what matter if now and again her ignorance -distresses us? Come to that, even men seem to me to get along very -well without much learning.’ - -Here he stopped, but Genji and the rest, wishing to hear the end -of the story, cried out that for their part they found her a most -interesting woman. Shikibu protested that he did not wish to go on -with the story, but at last after much coaxing, pulling a comical wry -face he continued: ‘I had not seen her for a long time. When at last -some accident took me to the house, she did not receive me with her -usual informality but spoke to me from behind a tiresome screen. Ha, -Ha, thought I foolishly, she is sulking; now is the time to have a -scene and break with her. I might have known that she was not so -little of a philosopher as to sulk about trifles; she prided herself -on knowing the ways of the world and my inconstancy did not in the -least disturb her. - -‘She told me (speaking without the slightest tremor) that having had a -bad cold for some weeks she had taken a strong garlic-cordial, which -had made her breath smell rather unpleasant and that for this reason -she could not come very close to me. But if I had any matter of -special importance to discuss with her she was quite prepared to give -me her attention. All this she had expressed with solemn literary -perfection. I could think of no suitable reply, and with an “at your -service” I rose to go. Then, feeling that the interview had not been -quite a success, she added, raising her voice “Please come again when -my breath has lost its smell.” I could not pretend I had not heard. I -had however no intention of prolonging my visit, particularly as the -odour was now becoming definitely unpleasant, and looking cross I -recited the acrostic “On this night marked by the strange behaviour of -the spider, how foolish to bid me come back to-morrow”[12] and calling -over my shoulder “There is no excuse for you”! I ran out of the -room. But she, following me “If night by night and every night we met, -in daytime too I should grow bold to meet you face to face.” Here in -the second sentence she had cleverly concealed the meaning “If I had -had any reason to expect you, I should not have eaten garlic.”’ - -‘What a revolting story’ cried the young princes, and then, laughing, -‘He must have invented it.’ ‘Such a woman is quite incredible; it must -have been some sort of ogress. You have shocked us, Shikibu!’ and they -looked at him with disapproval. ‘You must try to tell us a better -story than that.’ ‘I do not see how any story could be better’ said -Shikibu, and left the room. - -‘There is a tendency among men as well as women’ said Uma no Kami ‘so -soon as they have acquired a little knowledge of some kind, to want to -display it to the best advantage. To have mastered all the -difficulties in the Three Histories and Five Classics is no road to -amiability. But even a woman cannot afford to lack all knowledge of -public and private affairs. Her best way will be without regular study -to pick up a little here and a little there, merely by keeping her -eyes and ears open. Then, if she has her wits at all about her, she -will soon find that she has amassed a surprising store of information. -Let her be content with this and not insist upon cramming her letters -with Chinese characters which do not at all accord with her feminine -style of composition, and will make the recipient exclaim in despair -“If only she could contrive to be a little less mannish!” And many of -these characters, to which she intended the colloquial pronunciation -to be given, are certain to be read as Chinese, and this will give the -whole composition an even more pedantic sound than it deserves. Even -among our ladies of rank and fashion there are many of this sort, and -there are others who, wishing to master the art of verse-making, -in the end allow it to master them, and, slaves to poetry, cannot -resist the temptation, however urgent the business they are about or -however inappropriate the time, to make use of some happy allusion -which has occurred to them, but must needs fly to their desks and work -it up into a poem. On festival days such a woman is very troublesome. -For example on the morning of the Iris Festival, when everyone is busy -making ready to go to the temple, she will worry them by stringing -together all the old tags about the “matchless root”[13] or on the 9th -day of the 9th month, when everyone is busy thinking out some -difficult Chinese poem to fit the rhymes which have been prescribed, -she begins making metaphors about the “dew on the chrysanthemums,” -thus diverting our attention from the far more important business -which is in hand. At another time we might have found these -compositions quite delightful; but by thrusting them upon our notice -at inconvenient moments, when we cannot give them proper attention, -she makes them seem worse than they really are. For in all matters we -shall best commend ourselves if we study men’s faces to read in them -the “Why so?” or the “As you will” and do not, regardless of times and -circumstances, demand an interest and sympathy that they have not -leisure to give. - -‘Sometimes indeed a woman should even pretend to know less than she -knows, or say only a part of what she would like to say....’ - -All this while Genji, though he had sometimes joined in the -conversation, had in his heart of hearts been thinking of one person -only, and the more he thought the less could he find a single trace of -those shortcomings and excesses which, so his friends had declared, -were common to all women. ‘There is no one like her’ he thought, -and his heart was very full. The conversation indeed had not brought -them to a definite conclusion, but it had led to many curious -anecdotes and reflections. So they passed the night, and at last, for -a wonder, the weather had improved. After this long residence at the -Palace Genji knew he would be expected at the Great Hall and set out -at once. There was in Princess Aoi’s air and dress a dignified -precision which had something in it even of stiffness; and in the very -act of reflecting that she, above all women, was the type of that -single-hearted and devoted wife whom (as his friends had said last -night) no sensible man would lightly offend, he found himself -oppressed by the very perfection of her beauty, which seemed only to -make all intimacy with her the more impossible. - -He turned to Lady Chūnagon, to Nakatsukasa and other attendants of the -common sort who were standing near and began to jest with them. The -day was now very hot, but they thought that flushed cheeks became -Prince Genji very well. Aoi’s father came, and standing behind the -curtain, began to converse very amiably. Genji, who considered the -weather too hot for visits, frowned, at which the ladies-in-waiting -tittered. Genji, making furious signs at them to be quiet, flung -himself on to a divan. In fact, he behaved far from well. - -It was now growing dark. Someone said that the position of the Earth -Star[14] would make it unlucky for the Prince to go back to the Palace -that night; and another: ‘You are right. It is now set dead against -him.’ ‘But my own palace is in the same direction!’ cried Genji. ‘How -vexing! where then shall I go?’ and promptly fell asleep. The -ladies-in-waiting however, agreed that it was a very serious matter -and began discussing what could be done. ‘There is Ki no Kami’s -house’ said one. This Ki no Kami was one of Genji’s gentlemen in -waiting. ‘It is in the Middle River’ she went on; ‘and delightfully -cool and shady, for they have lately dammed the river and made it flow -right through the garden.’ ‘That sounds very pleasant’ said Genji, -waking up, ‘besides they are the sort of people who would not mind -one’s driving right in at the front gate, if one had a mind to.’[15] - -He had many friends whose houses lay out of the unlucky direction. But -he feared that if he went to one of them, Aoi would think that, after -absenting himself so long, he was now merely using the Earth Star as -an excuse for returning to more congenial company. He therefore -broached the matter to Ki no Kami, who accepted the proposal, but -stepping aside whispered to his companions that his father Iyo no -Kami, who was absent on service, had asked him to look after his young -wife.[16] ‘I am afraid we have not sufficient room in the house to -entertain him as I could wish.’ Genji overhearing this, strove to -reassure him, saying ‘It will be a pleasure to me to be near the lady. -A visit is much more agreeable when there is a hostess to welcome us. -Find me some corner behind her partition...!’ ‘Even then, I fear you -may not find ...’ but breaking off Ki no Kami sent a runner to his -house, with orders to make ready an apartment for the Prince. Treating -a visit to so humble a house as a matter of no importance, he started -at once, without even informing the Minister, and taking with him only -a few trusted body-servants. Ki no Kami protested against the -precipitation, but in vain. - -The servants dusted and aired the eastern side-chamber of the Central -Hall and here made temporary quarters for the Prince. They were at -pains to improve the view from his windows, for example by altering -the course of certain rivulets. They set up a rustic wattled hedge and -filled the borders with the choicest plants. The low humming of -insects floated on the cool breeze; numberless fireflies wove -inextricable mazes in the air. The whole party settled down near where -the moat flowed under the covered bridge and began to drink wine. - -Ki no Kami went off in a great bustle, saying that he must find them -something to eat. Genji, quietly surveying the scene, decided this was -one of those middle-class families which in last night’s conversation -had been so highly commended. He remembered that he had heard the lady -who was staying in the house well spoken of and was curious to see -her. He listened and thought that there seemed to be people in the -western wing. There was a soft rustling of skirts, and from time to -time the sound of young and by no means disagreeable voices. They did -not seem to be much in earnest in their efforts to make their -whispering and laughter unheard, for soon one of them opened the -sliding window. But Ki no Kami crying ‘What are you thinking of?’ -crossly closed it again. The light of a candle in the room filtered -through a crack in the paper-window. Genji edged slightly closer to -the window in the hope of being able to see through the crack, but -found that he could see nothing. He listened for a while, and came to -the conclusion that they were sitting in the main women’s apartments, -out of which the little front room opened. They were speaking very -low, but he could catch enough of it to make out that they were -talking about him. - -‘What a shame that a fine young Prince should be taken so young and -settled down for ever with a lady that was none of his choosing!’ - -‘I understand that marriage does not weigh very heavily upon him’ -said another. This probably meant nothing in particular, but Genji, -who imagined they were talking about what was uppermost in his own -mind, was appalled at the idea that his relations with Lady Fujitsubo -were about to be discussed. How could they have found out? But the -subsequent conversation of the ladies soon showed that they knew -nothing of the matter at all, and Genji stopped listening. Presently -he heard them trying to repeat the poem which he had sent with a -nose-gay of morning-glory to Princess Asagao, daughter of Prince -Momozono.[17] But they got the lines rather mixed up, and Genji began -to wonder whether the lady’s appearance would turn out to be on a -level with her knowledge of prosody. - -At this moment Ki no Kami came in with a lamp which he hung on the -wall. Having carefully trimmed it, he offered Genji a tray of fruit. -This was all rather dull and Genji by a quotation from an old -folk-song hinted that he would like to meet Ki no Kami’s other guests. -The hint was not taken. Genji began to doze, and his attendants sat -silent and motionless. - -There were in the room several charming boys, sons of Ki no Kami, some -of whom Genji already knew as pages at the Palace. There were also -numerous sons of Iyo no Kami; with them was a boy of twelve or -thirteen who particularly caught Genji’s fancy. He began asking whose -sons the boys were, and when he came to this one Ki no Kami replied -‘he is the youngest son of the late Chūnagon, who loved him dearly, -but died while this boy was still a child. His sister married my -father and that is why he is living here. He is quick at his books, -and we hope one day to send him to Court, but I fear that his lack -of influence....’ - -‘Poor child!’ said Genji. ‘His sister, then, is your step-mother, is -that not so? How strange that you should stand in this relationship -with so young a girl! And now I come to think of it there was some -talk once of her being presented at Court, and I once heard the -Emperor asking what had become of her. How changeable are the fortunes -of the world.’ He was trying to talk in a very grown-up way. - -‘Indeed, Sir’ answered Ki no Kami, ‘her subsequent state was humbler -than she had reason to expect. But such is our mortal life. Yes, yes, -and such has it always been. We have our ups and downs—and the women -even more than the men.’ - -_Genji:_ ‘But your father no doubt makes much of her?’ - -_Ki no Kami:_ ‘Makes much of her indeed! You may well say so. She -rules his house, and he dotes on her in so wholesale and extravagant a -fashion that all of us (and I among the foremost) have had occasion -before now to call him to order, but he does not listen.’ - -_Genji:_ ‘How comes it then that he has left her behind in the house -of a fashionable young Courtier? For he looks like a man of prudence -and good sense. But pray, where is she now?’ - -_Ki no Kami:_ ‘The ladies have been ordered to retire to the common -room, but they have not yet finished all their preparations.’ - -Genji’s followers, who had drunk heavily, were now all lying fast -asleep on the verandah. He was alone in his room, but could not get to -sleep. Having at last dozed for a moment, he woke suddenly and noticed -that someone was moving behind the paper-window of the back wall. -This, he thought, must be where she is hiding, and faintly curious -he sauntered in that direction and stood listening. ‘Where are you?’ I -say ‘Where are you?’ whispered someone in a quaint, hoarse voice, -which seemed to be that of the boy whom Genji had noticed earlier in -the evening. ‘I am lying over here’ another voice answered. ‘Has the -stranger gone to sleep yet? His room must be quite close to this; but -all the same how far off he seems!’ Her sleepy voice was so like the -boy’s, that Genji concluded this must be his sister. - -‘He is sleeping in the wing, I saw him to-night. All that we have -heard of him is true enough. He is as handsome as can be’ whispered -the boy. ‘I wish it were to-morrow; I want to see him properly’ she -answered drowsily, her voice seeming to come from under the bed -clothes. Genji was rather disappointed that she did not ask more -questions about him. Presently he heard the boy saying ‘I am going to -sleep over in the corner-room. How bad the light is’ and he seemed to -be trimming the lamp. His sister’s bed appeared to be in the corner -opposite the paper-window. ‘Where is Chūjō?’ she called. ‘I am -frightened, I like to have someone close to me.’ ‘Madam’ answered -several voices from the servants’ room, ‘she is taking her bath in the -lower house. She will be back presently.’ When all was quiet again, -Genji slipped back the bolt and tried the door. It was not fastened on -the other side. He found himself in an ante-room with a screen at the -end, beyond which a light glimmered. In the half-darkness he could see -clothes boxes and trunks strewn about in great disorder. Quietly -threading his way among them, he entered the inner room from which the -voices had proceeded. One very minute figure was couched there who, to -Genji’s slight embarrassment, on hearing his approach pushed aside the -cloak which covered her, thinking that he was the maid for whom she -had sent. ‘Madam, hearing you call for Chūjō[18] I thought that I -might now put at your service the esteem in which I have long secretly -held you.’ The lady could make nothing of all this, and terrified out -of her wits tried hard to scream. But no sound came, for she had -buried her face in the bed clothes. - -‘Please listen’ said Genji. ‘This sudden intrusion must of course seem -to you very impertinent. You do not know that for years I have waited -for an occasion to tell you how much I like and admire you, and if -to-night I could not resist the temptation of paying this secret -visit, pray take the strangeness of my behaviour as proof of my -impatience to pay a homage that has long been due.’ He spoke so -courteously and gently and looked so kind that not the devil himself -would have taken umbrage at his presence. But feeling that the -situation was not at all a proper one for a married lady she said -(without much conviction) ‘I think you have made a mistake.’ She spoke -very low. Her bewildered air made her all the more attractive, and -Genji, enchanted by her appearance, hastened to answer: ‘Indeed I have -made no mistake; rather, with no guide but a long-felt deference and -esteem, I have found my way unerringly to your side. But I see that -the suddenness of my visit has made you distrust my purpose. Let me -tell you then that I have no evil intentions and seek only for someone -to talk with me for a while about a matter which perplexes me.’ So -saying he took her up in his arms (for she was very small) and was -carrying her through the ante-room when suddenly Chūjō, the servant -for whom she had sent before, entered the bedroom. Genji gave an -astonished cry and the maid, wondering who could have entered the -ante-room, began groping her way towards them. But coming closer she -recognized by the rich perfume of his dress that this could be none -other than the Prince. And though she was sorely puzzled to know -what was afoot, she dared not say a word. Had he been an ordinary -person, she would soon have had him by the ears. ‘Nay’ she thought -‘even if he were not a Prince I should do best to keep my hands off -him; for the more stir one makes, the more tongues wag. But if I -should touch this fine gentleman ...,’ and all in a flutter she found -herself obediently following Genji to his room. Here he calmly closed -the door upon her, saying as he did so ‘You will come back to fetch -your mistress in the morning.’ Utsusemi herself was vexed beyond -measure at being thus disposed of in the presence of her own -waiting-maid, who could indeed draw but one conclusion from what she -had seen. But to all her misgivings and anxieties Genji, who had the -art of improvising a convincing reply to almost any question, answered -with such a wealth of ingenuity and tender concern, that for awhile -she was content. But soon becoming again uneasy, ‘This must all be a -dream—that you, so great a Prince, should stoop to consider so humble -a creature as I, and I am overwhelmed by so much kindness. But I think -you have forgotten what I am. A Zuryō’s wife! there is no altering -that, and you...!’ Genji now began to realize how deeply he had -distressed and disquieted her by his wild behaviour, and feeling -thoroughly ashamed of himself he answered: ‘I am afraid I know very -little about these questions of rank and precedence. Such things are -too confusing to carry in one’s head. And whatever you may have heard -of me I want to tell you for some reason or other I have till this day -cared nothing for gallantry nor ever practised it, and that even you -cannot be more astonished at what I have done to-night than I myself -am.’ With this and a score of other speeches he sought to win her -confidence. But she, knowing that if once their talk became a jot less -formal, she would be hard put to it to withstand his singular -charm, was determined, even at the risk of seeming stiff and awkward, -to show him that in trying so hard to put her at her ease he was only -wasting his time, with the result that she behaved very boorishly -indeed. She was by nature singularly gentle and yielding, so that the -effort of steeling her heart and despite her feelings, playing all the -while the part of the young bamboo-shoot which though so green and -tender cannot be broken, was very painful to her; and finding that she -could not longer think of arguments with which to withstand his -importunity, she burst into tears; and though he was very sorry for -her, it occurred to him that he would not gladly have missed that -sight. He longed however to console her, but could not think of a way -to do so, and said at last, ‘Why do you treat me so unkindly? It is -true that the manner of our meeting was strange, yet I think that Fate -meant us to meet. It is harsh that you should shrink from me as though -the World and you had never met.’ So he chided her, and she: ‘If this -had happened long ago before my troubles, before my lot was cast, -perhaps I should have been glad to take your kindness while it -lasted, knowing that you would soon think better of your strange -condescension. But now that my course is fixed, what can such meetings -bring me save misery and regret? _Tell none that you have seen my -home_’ she ended, quoting the old song.[19] ‘Small wonder that she is -sad’ thought Genji, and he found many a tender way to comfort her. And -now the cock began to crow. Out in the courtyard Genji’s men were -staggering to their feet, one crying drowsily ‘How I should like to go -to sleep again,’ and another ‘Make haste there, bring out his Honour’s -coach.’ Ki no Kami came out into the yard, ‘What’s all this hurry? It -is only when there are women in his party that a man need hasten -from a refuge to which the Earth star has sent him. Why is his -Highness setting off in the middle of the night?’ - -Genji was wondering whether such an opportunity would ever occur -again. How would he be able even to send her letters? And thinking of -all the difficulties that awaited him, he became very despondent. -Chūjō arrived to fetch her mistress. For a long while he would not let -her go, and when at last he handed her over, he drew her back to him -saying ‘How can I send news to you? For, Madam,’ he said raising his -voice that the maid Chūjō might hear ‘such love as mine, and such -pitiless cruelty as yours have never been seen in the world before.’ -Already the birds were singing in good earnest. She could not forget -that she was no one and he a Prince. And even now, while he was -tenderly entreating her, there came unbidden to her mind the image of -her husband Iyo no Suke, about whom she generally thought either not -at all or with disdain. To think that even in a dream he might see her -now, filled her with shame and terror. - -It was daylight. Genji went with her to the partition door. Indoors -and out there was a bustle of feet. As he closed the door upon her, it -seemed to him a barrier that shut him out from all happiness. He -dressed, and went out on to the balcony. A blind in the western wing -was hastily raised. There seemed to be people behind who were looking -at him. They could only see him indistinctly across the top of a -partition in the verandah. Among them was one, perhaps, whose heart -beat wildly as she looked...? - -The moon had not set, and though with dwindled light still shone crisp -and clear in the dawn. It was a daybreak of marvellous beauty. But in -the passionless visage of the sky men read only their own comfort or -despair; and Genji, as with many backward glances he went upon his -way, paid little heed to the beauty of the dawn. He would send her a -message? No, even that was utterly impossible. And so, in great -unhappiness he returned to his wife’s house. - -He would gladly have slept a little, but could not stop trying to -invent some way of seeing her again; or when that seemed hopeless, -imagining to himself all that must now be going on in her mind. She -was no great beauty, Genji reflected, and yet one could not say that -she was ugly. Yes, she was in every sense a member of that Middle -Class upon which Uma no Kami had given them so complete a dissertation. - -He stayed for some while at the Great Hall, and finding that, try as -he might, he could not stop thinking about her and longing for her, at -last in despair he sent for Ki no Kami and said to him ‘Why do you not -let me have that boy in my service,—the Chūnagon’s son, whom I saw at -your house? He is a likely looking boy, and I might make him my -body-servant, or even recommend him to the Emperor.’ ‘I am sensible of -your kindness’ said Ki no Kami, ‘I will mention what you have said to -the boy’s sister.’ This answer irritated Genji, but he continued: ‘And -has this lady given you step-brothers my lord?’ ‘Sir, she has been -married these two years, but has had no child. It seems that in making -this marriage she disobeyed her father’s last injunctions, and this -has set her against her husband.’ - -_Genji:_ ‘That is sad indeed. I am told that she is not ill-looking. -Is that so?’ - -_Ki no Kami:_ ‘I believe she is considered quite passable. But I have -had very little to do with her. Intimacy between step-children and -step-parents is indeed proverbially difficult.’ - -Five or six days afterwards Ki no Kami brought the boy. He was not -exactly handsome, but he had great charm and (thought Genji) an air of -distinction. The Prince spoke very kindly to him and soon completely -won his heart. To Genji’s many questions about his sister he made such -answers as he could, and when he seemed embarrassed or tongue-tied -Genji found some less direct way of finding out what he wanted to -know, and soon put the boy at his ease. For though he vaguely realized -what was going on and thought it rather odd, he was so young that he -made no effort to understand it, and without further question carried -back a letter from Genji to his sister. - -She was so much agitated by the sight of it that she burst into tears -and, lest her brother should perceive them, held the letter in front -of her face while she read it. It was very long. Among much else it -contained the verse ‘Would that I might dream that dream again! Alas, -since first this wish was mine, not once have my eye-lids closed in -sleep.’ - -She had never seen such beautiful writing, and as she read, a haze -clouded her eyes. What incomprehensible fate had first dragged her -down to be the wife of a Zuryō, and then for a moment raised her so -high? Still pondering, she went to her room. - -Next day, Genji again sent for the boy, who went to his sister saying -‘I am going to Prince Genji. Where is your answer to his letter?’ -‘Tell him’ she answered ‘that there is no one here who reads such -letters.’ The boy burst out laughing. ‘Why, you silly, how could I say -such a thing to him. He told me himself to be sure to bring an -answer.’ It infuriated her to think that Genji should have thus taken -the boy into his confidence and she answered angrily, ‘He has no -business to talk to you about such things at your age. If that is -what you talk about you had better not go to him any more.’ ‘But he -sent for me’ said the boy, and started off. - -‘I was waiting for you all yesterday’ said Genji when the boy -returned. ‘Did you forget to bring the answer? Did you forget to -come?’ The child blushed and made no reply. ‘And now?’ ‘She said -there is no one at home who reads such letters.’ ‘How silly, what can -be the use of saying such things?’, and he wrote another letter and -gave it to the boy, saying: ‘I expect you do not know that I used to -meet your sister before her marriage. She treats me in this scornful -fashion because she looks upon me as a poor-spirited, defenceless -creature. Whereas she has now a mighty Deputy Governor to look after -her. But I hope that you will promise to be my child not his. For he -is very old, and will not be able to take care of you for long.’ - -The boy was quite content with this explanation, and admired Genji -more than ever. The prince kept him always at his side, even taking -him to the Palace. And he ordered his Chamberlain to see to it that he -was provided with a little Court suit. Indeed he treated him just as -though he were his own child. - -Genji continued to send letters; but she, thinking that the boy, young -as he was, might easily allow a message to fall into the wrong hands -and that then she would lose her fair name to no purpose, feeling too -(that however much he desired it) between persons so far removed in -rank there could be no lasting union, she answered his letters only in -the most formal terms. - -Dark though it had been during most of the time they were together, -she yet had a clear recollection of his appearance, and could not deny -to herself that she thought him uncommonly handsome. But she very much -doubted if he on his side really knew what she was like; indeed -she felt sure that the next time they met he would think her very -plain and all would be over. - -Genji meanwhile thought about her continually. He was for ever calling -back to memory each incident of that one meeting, and every -recollection filled him with longing and despair. He remembered how -sad she had looked when she spoke to him of herself, and he longed to -make her happier. He thought of visiting her in secret. But the risk -of discovery was too great, and the consequences likely to be more -fatal to her even than to himself. - -He had been many days at the Palace, when at last the Earth Star again -barred the road to his home. He set out at once, but on the way -pretended that he had just remembered the unfavourable posture of the -stars. There was nothing to do but seek shelter again in the house on -the Middle River. Ki no Kami was surprised but by no means -ill-pleased, for he attributed Genji’s visit to the amenity of the -little pools and fountains which he had constructed in his garden. - -Genji had told the boy in the morning that he intended to visit the -Middle River, and since he had now become the Prince’s constant -companion, he was sent for at once to wait upon him in his room. He -had already given a message to his sister, in which Genji told her of -his plan. She could not but feel flattered at the knowledge that it -was on her account he had contrived this ingenious excuse for coming -to the house. Yet she had, as we have seen, for some reason got it -into her head that at a leisurely meeting she would not please him as -she had done at that first fleeting and dreamlike encounter, and she -dreaded adding a new sorrow to the burden of her thwarted and unhappy -existence. Too proud to let him think that she had posted herself in -waiting for him, she said to her servants (while the boy was busy -in Genji’s room) ‘I do not care to be at such close quarters with our -guest, besides I am stiff, and would like to be massaged; I must go -where there is more room,’ and so saying she made them carry her -things to the maid Chūjō’s bedroom in the cross-wing. - -Genji had purposely sent his attendants early to bed, and now that all -was quiet, he hastened to send her a message. But the boy could not -find her. At last when he had looked in every corner of the house, he -tried the cross-wing, and succeeded in tracking her down to Chūjō’s -room. It was too bad of her to hide like this, and half in tears he -gasped out ‘Oh how can you be so horrid? What will he think of you?’ -‘You have no business to run after me like this’ she answered angrily, -‘It is very wicked for children to carry such messages. But’ she -added, ‘you may tell him I am not well, that my ladies are with me, -and I am going to be massaged....’ So she dismissed him; but in her -heart of hearts she was thinking that if such an adventure had -happened to her while she was still a person of consequence, before -her father died and left her to shift for herself in the world, she -would have known how to enjoy it. But now she must force herself to -look askance at all his kindness. How tiresome he must think her! And -she fretted so much at not being free to fall in love with him, that -in the end she was more in love than ever. But then she remembered -suddenly that her lot had long ago been cast. She was a wife. There -was no sense in thinking of such things, and she made up her mind once -and for all never again to let foolish ideas enter her head. - -Genji lay on his bed, anxiously waiting to see with what success so -young a messenger would execute his delicate mission. When at last the -answer came, astonished at this sudden exhibition of coldness, he -exclaimed in deep mortification ‘This is a disgrace, a hideous -disgrace,’ and he looked very rueful indeed. For a while he said no -more, but lay sighing deeply, in great distress. At last he recited -the poem ‘I knew not the nature of the strange tree[20] that stands on -Sono plain, and when I sought the comfort of its shade, I did but lose -my road,’ and sent it to her. She was still awake, and answered with -the poem ‘Too like am I in these my outcast years to the dim tree that -dwindles from the traveller’s approaching gaze.’ The boy was terribly -sorry for Genji and did not feel sleepy at all, but he was afraid -people would think his continual excursions very strange. By this -time, however, everyone else in the house was sound asleep. Genji -alone lay plunged in the blackest melancholy. But even while -he was raging at the inhuman stubbornness of her new-found and -incomprehensible resolve, he found that he could not but admire her -the more for this invincible tenacity. At last he grew tired of lying -awake; there was no more to be done. A moment later he had changed his -mind again, and suddenly whispered to the boy ‘Take me to where she is -hiding!’ ‘It is too difficult’ he said, ‘she is locked in and there -are so many people there. I am afraid to go with you.’ ‘So be it’ said -Genji, ‘but you at least must not abandon me’ and he laid the boy -beside him on his bed. He was well content to find himself lying by -this handsome young Prince’s side, and Genji, we must record, found -the boy no bad substitute for his ungracious sister. - -[1] The hero of a lost popular romance. It is also referred to by -Murasaki’s contemporary Sei Shōnagon in Chapter 145 of her _Makura no -Sōshi_. - -[2] His father-in-law’s house, where his wife Princess Aoi still -continued to live. - -[3] Japanese houses were arranged somewhat differently from ours and -for many of the terms which constantly recur in this book (_kichō_, -_sudare_, _sunoko_, etc.) no exact English equivalents can be found. -In such cases I have tried to use expressions which without being too -awkward or unfamiliar will give an adequate general idea of what is -meant. - -[4] Provincial officials. Murasaki herself came of this class. - -[5] The tenth month. - -[6] From the _saibara_ ballad, _The Well of Asuka_: ‘Sweet is the -shade, the lapping waters cool, and good the pasture for our weary -steeds. By the Well of Asuka, here let us stay.’ - -[7] The ‘Japanese zithern’; also called _wagon_. A species of _koto_. - -[8] As opposed to the formal and traditional music imported from -China. - -[9] See _Encyclopedia de la Musique_, p. 247. Under the name Nan-lü -this mode was frequently used in the Chinese love-dramas of the -fourteenth century. It was considered very wild and moving. - -[10] Goddess of Beauty. - -[11] A poem by Po Chü-i pointing out the advantages of marrying a -poor wife. - -[12] There is a reference to an old poem which says: ‘I know that -to-night my lover will come to me. The spider’s antics prove it -clearly’ Omens were drawn from the behaviour of spiders. There is also -a pun on _hiru_ ‘day’ and _hiru_ ‘garlic,’ so that an ordinary person -would require a few moments’ reflection before understanding the poem. - -[13] The irises used for the Tango festival (5th day of 5th month) had -to have nine flowers growing on a root. - -[14] The ‘Lord of the Centre,’ i.e. the planet Saturn. - -[15] I.e. people with whom one can be quite at ease. It was usual to -unharness one’s bulls at the gate. - -[16] Ki no Kami’s step-mother. - -[17] We learn later that Genji courted this lady in vain from his -seventeenth year onward. Though she has never been mentioned before, -Murasaki speaks of her as though the reader already knew all about -her. This device is also employed by Marcel Proust. - -[18] Chūjō means ‘Captain,’ which was Genji’s rank at the time. - -[19] _Kokinshū_ 811, an anonymous love-poem. - -[20] The _hahakigi_ or ‘broom-tree’ when seen in the distance appears -to offer ample shade; but when approached turns out to be a skimpy bush. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - UTSUSEMI - - -Genji was still sleepless. ‘No one has ever disliked me before’ he -whispered to the boy. ‘It is more than I can bear. I am sick of myself -and of the world, and do not want to go on living any more.’ This -sounded so tragic that the boy began to weep. The smallness and -delicacy of his build, even the way in which his hair was cropped, -gave him an astonishing resemblance to his sister, thought Genji, who -found his sympathy very endearing. At times he had half thought of -creeping away from the boy’s side and searching on his own account for -the lady’s hiding-place; but soon abandoned a project which would only -have involved him in the most appalling scandal. So he lay, waiting -for the dawn. At last, while it was still dark, so full of his own -thoughts that he quite forgot to make his usual parting speech to his -young page, he left the house. The boy’s feelings were very much hurt, -and all that day he felt lonely and injured. The lady, when no answer -came from Genji, thought that he had changed his mind, and though she -would have been very angry if he had persisted in his suit, she was -not quite prepared to lose him with so little ado. - -But this was a good opportunity once and for all to lock up her heart -against him. She thought that she had done so successfully, but found -to her surprise that he still occupied an uncommonly large share of -her thoughts. Genji, though he felt it would have been much better -to put the whole business out of his head, knew that he had not the -strength of mind to do so and at last, unable to bear his wretchedness -any longer he said to the boy ‘I am feeling very unhappy. I keep on -trying to think of other things, but my thoughts will not obey me. I -can struggle no longer. You must watch for a suitable occasion, and -then contrive some way of bringing me into the presence of your -sister.’ This worried the boy, but he was inwardly flattered at the -confidence which Genji placed in him. And an opportunity soon -presented itself. - -Ki no Kami had been called away to the provinces, and there were only -women in the house. One evening when dusk had settled upon the quiet -streets the boy brought a carriage to fetch him. He knew that the lad -would do his best, but not feeling quite safe in the hands of so young -an accomplice, he put on a disguise, and then in his impatience, not -waiting even to see the gates closed behind him, he drove off at top -speed. They entered unobserved at a side-gate, and here he bade Genji -descend. The brother knew that as he was only a boy, the watchman and -gardeners would not pay any particular attention to his movements, and -so he was not at all uneasy. Hiding Genji in the porch of the -double-door of the eastern wing, he purposely banged against the -sliding partition which separated this wing from the main part of the -house, and that the maids might have the impression he did not mind -who heard him enter he called out crossly ‘Why is the door shut on a -hot night like this?’ ‘“My lady of the West”[1] has been here since -this morning, and she is playing _go_ with my other lady.’ Longing to -catch sight of her, even though she were with a companion, Genji stole -from his hiding-place, and crept through a gap in the curtains. The -partition door through which the boy had passed was still open, -and he could see through it, right along the corridor into the room on -the other side. The screen which protected the entrance of this room -was partly folded, and the curtains which usually concealed the divan -had, owing to the great heat, been hooked up out of the way, so that -he had an excellent view. - -The lady sitting near the lamp, half-leaning against the middle pillar -must, he supposed, be his beloved. He looked closely at her. She -seemed to be wearing an unlined, dark purple dress, with some kind of -scarf thrown over her shoulders. The poise of her head was graceful, -but her extreme smallness had the effect of making her seem somewhat -insignificant. She seemed to be trying all the while to hide her face -from her companion, and there was something furtive about the -movements of her slender hands, which she seemed never to show for -more than a moment. - -Her companion was sitting right opposite him, and he could see her -perfectly. She wore an underdress of thin white stuff, and thrown -carelessly over it a cloak embroidered with red and blue flowers. The -dress was not fastened in front, showing a bare neck and breast, -showing even the little red sash which held up her drawers. She had -indeed an engagingly free and easy air. Her skin was very white and -delicate, she was rather plump, but tall and well built. The poise of -her head and angle of her brow were faultless, the expression of her -mouth and eyes was very pleasing and her appearance altogether most -delightful. Her hair grew very thick, but was cut short so as to hang -on a level with her shoulders. It was very fine and smooth. How -exciting it must be to have such a girl for one’s daughter! Small -wonder if Iyo no Kami was proud of her. If she was a little less -restless, he thought, she would be quite perfect. - -The game was nearly over, she was clearing away the unwanted pieces. -She seemed to be very excitable and was making a quite unnecessary -commotion about the business. ‘Wait a little’ said her companion very -quietly, ‘here there is a stalemate. My only move is to counter-attack -over there....’ ‘It is all over’ said the other impatiently ‘I am -beaten, let us count the score;’ and she began counting, ‘ten, twenty, -thirty, forty’ on her fingers. Genji could not help remembering the -old song about the wash-house at Iyo (‘eight tubs to the left, nine -tubs to the right’) and as this lady of Iyo, determined that nothing -should be left unsettled, went on stolidly counting her losses and -gains, he thought her for the moment slightly common. It was strange -to contrast her with Utsusemi,[2] who sat silent, her face -half-covered, so that he could scarcely discern her features. But when -he looked at her fixedly, she, as though uneasy under this gaze of -which she was not actually aware, shifted in her seat, and showed him -her full profile. Her eyelids gave the impression of being a little -swollen, and there was at places a certain lack of delicacy in the -lines of her features, while her good points were not visible. But -when she began to speak, it was as though she were determined to make -amends for the deficiencies of her appearance and show that she had, -if not so much beauty, at any rate more sense than her companion. - -The latter was now flaunting her charms with more and more careless -abandonment. Her continual laughter and high spirits were certainly -rather engaging, and she seemed in her way to be a most entertaining -person. He did not imagine that she was very virtuous, but that was -far from being altogether a disadvantage. - -It amused him very much to see people behaving quite naturally -together. He had lived in an atmosphere of ceremony and reserve. -This peep at everyday life was a most exciting novelty, and though he -felt slightly uneasy at spying in this deliberate way upon two persons -who had no notion that they were observed, he would gladly have gone -on looking, when suddenly the boy, who had been sitting by his -sister’s side, got up, and Genji slipped back again into his proper -hiding-place. The boy was full of apologies at having left him waiting -for so long: ‘But I am afraid nothing can be done to-day; there is -still a visitor in her room.’ ‘And am I now to go home again? ‘said -Genji; ‘that is really too much to ask.’ ‘No, no, stay here, I will -try what can be done, when the visitor has gone.’ Genji felt quite -sure that the boy would manage to find some way of cajoling his -sister, for he had noticed that though a mere child, he had a way of -quietly observing situations and characters, and making use of his -knowledge. - -The game of _go_ must now be over. A rustling of skirts and pattering -of feet showed that the household was not retiring to rest. ‘Where is -the young master?’ Genji heard a servant saying, ‘I am going to fasten -this partition door,’ and there was the sound of bolts being slipped. -‘They have all gone to bed’ said Genji, ‘now is the time to think of a -plan.’ The boy knew that it would be no use arguing with his sister or -trying beforehand in any way to bend her obstinate resolution. The -best thing to be done under the circumstances was to wait till no one -was about, and then lead Genji straight to her. ‘Is Ki no Kami’s -sister still here?’ asked Genji, ‘I should like just to catch a -glimpse of her.’ ‘But that is impossible’ said the boy ‘She is in my -sister’s room.’ ‘Indeed’ said Genji, affecting surprise. For though he -knew very well where she was he did not wish to show that he had -already seen her. Becoming very impatient of all these delays, he -pointed out that it was growing very late, and there was no time to be -lost. - -The boy nodded, and tapping on the main door of the women’s quarters, -he entered. Everyone was sound asleep. ‘I am going to sleep in the -ante-room’ the boy said out loud; ‘I shall leave the door open so as -to make a draught;’ and so saying he spread his mattress on the -ground, and for a while pretended to be asleep. Soon however, he got -up and spread a screen as though to protect him from the light, and -under its shadow Genji slipped softly into the room. - -Not knowing what was to happen next, and much doubting whether any -good would come of the venture, with great trepidation he followed the -boy to the curtain that screened the main bedroom, and pulling it -aside entered on tip-toe. But even in the drab garments which he had -chosen for his disguise, he seemed to the boy to cut a terribly -conspicuous figure as he passed through the midnight quietness of the -house. - -Utsusemi meanwhile had persuaded herself that she was very glad Genji -had forgotten to pay his threatened visit. But she was still haunted -by the memory of their one strange and dreamlike meeting, and was in -no mood for sleep. But near her, as she lay tossing, the lady of the -_go_ party, delighted by her visit and all the opportunities it had -afforded for chattering to her heart’s content, was already asleep. -And as she was young and had no troubles she slept very soundly. The -princely scent which still clung to Genji’s person reached the bed. -Utsusemi raised her head, and fancied that she saw something move -behind a part of the curtain that was only of one thickness. Though it -was very dark she recognized Genji’s figure. Filled with a sudden -terror and utter bewilderment, she sprang from the bed, threw a -fragile gauze mantle over her shoulders, and fled silently from the -room. - -A moment later Genji entered. He saw with delight that there was only -one person in the room, and that the bed was arranged for two. He -threw off his cloak, and advanced towards the sleeping figure. She -seemed a more imposing figure than he had expected, but this did not -trouble him. It did indeed seem rather strange that she should be so -sound asleep. Gradually he realized with horror that it was not she at -all. ‘It is no use’ thought Genji ‘saying that I have come to the -wrong room, for I have no business anywhere here. Nor is it worth -while pursuing my real lady, for she would not have vanished like this -if she cared a straw about me.’ What if it were the lady he had seen -by the lamplight? She might not after all prove a bad exchange! But no -sooner had he thought this than he was horrified at his own frivolity. - -She opened her eyes. She was naturally somewhat startled, but did not -seem to be at all seriously put out. She was a thoughtless creature in -whose life no very strong emotion had ever played a part. Hers was the -flippancy that goes with inexperience, and even this sudden visitation -did not seem very much to perturb her. - -He meant at first to explain that it was not to see her that he had -come. But to do so would have been to give away the secret which -Utsusemi so jealously guarded from the world. There was nothing for -it, but to pretend that his repeated visits to the house, of which the -lady was well aware, had been made in the hope of meeting her! This -was a story which would not have withstood the most cursory -examination; but, outrageous as it was, the girl accepted it without -hesitation. - -He did not by any means dislike her, but at that moment all his -thoughts were busy with the lady who had so mysteriously vanished. No -doubt she was congratulating herself in some safe hiding-place upon -the absurd situation in which she had left him. Really, she was the -most obstinate creature in the world! What was the use of running -after her? But all the same she continued to obsess him. - -But the girl in front of him was young and gay and charming. They were -soon getting on very well together. - -‘Is not this kind of thing much more amusing than what happens with -people whom one knows?’ asked Genji a little later. ‘Do not think -unkindly of me. Our meeting must for the present remain a secret. I am -in a position which does not always allow me to act as I please. Your -people too would no doubt interfere if they should hear of it, which -would be very tiresome. Wait patiently, and do not forget me.’ These -rather tepid injunctions did not strike her as at all unsatisfactory, -and she answered very seriously ‘I am afraid it will not be very easy -for me even to write to you. People would think it very odd.’ ‘Of -course we must not let ordinary people into our secret’ he answered, -‘but there is no reason why this little page should not sometimes -carry a message. Meanwhile not a word to anyone!’ And with that he -left her, taking as he did so Utsusemi’s thin scarf which had slipped -from her shoulders when she fled from the room. - -He went to wake his page who was lying not far away. The boy sprang -instantly to his feet, for he was sleeping very lightly, not knowing -when his help might be required. He opened the door as quietly as he -could. ‘Who is that?’ someone called out in great alarm. It was the -voice of an old woman who worked in the house. ‘It is I’ answered the -boy uneasily. ‘What are you walking about here for at this time of -night?’ and scolding as she came, she began to advance towards the -door. ‘Bother her’ thought the boy, but he answered hastily ‘It’s all -right, I am only going outside for a minute;’ but just as Genji passed -through the door, the moon of dawn suddenly emerged in all her -brightness. Seeing a grown man’s figure appear in the doorway ‘Whom -have you got with you?’ the old lady asked, and then answering her own -question ‘Why it is Mimbu! what an outrageous height that girl has -grown to!’ and continuing to imagine that the boy was walking with -Mimbu, a maid-servant whose lankiness was a standing joke in the -house, ‘and you will soon be as big as she is, little Master!’ she -cried, and so saying came out through the door that they had just -passed through. Genji felt very uncomfortable, and making no answer on -the supposed Mimbu’s behalf, he stood in the shadow at the end of the -corridor, hiding himself as best he could. ‘You have been on duty, -haven’t you dear?’ said the old lady as she came towards them. ‘I have -been terribly bad with the colic since yesterday and was lying up, but -they were shorthanded last night, and I had to go and help, though I -did feel very queer all the while.’ And then, without waiting for them -to answer, ‘Oh, my pain, my poor pain’ she muttered ‘I can’t stop here -talking like this’ and she hobbled past them without looking up. - -So narrow an escape made Genji wonder more than ever whether the whole -thing was worth while. He drove back to his house, with the boy riding -as his postillion. - -Here he told him the story of his evening’s adventure. ‘A pretty mess -you made of it!’ And when he had finished scolding the boy for his -incompetence, he began to rail at the sister’s irritating prudishness. -The poor child felt very unhappy, but could think of nothing to say in -his own or his sister’s defence. - -‘I am utterly wretched’ said Genji. ‘It is obvious that she would not -have behaved as she did last night unless she absolutely detested me. -But she might at least have the decency to send civil answers to my -letters. Oh, well, I suppose Iyo no Kami is the better man....’ So he -spoke, thinking that she desired only to be rid of him. Yet when -at last he lay down to rest, he was wearing her scarf hidden under his -dress. He had put the boy by his side, and after giving much vent to -his exasperation, he said at last ‘I am very fond of you, but I am -afraid in future I shall always think of you in connection with this -hateful business, and that will put an end to our friendship.’ He said -it with such conviction that the boy felt quite forlorn. - -For a while they rested, but Genji could not sleep, and at dawn he -sent in haste for his ink-stone. He did not write a proper letter, but -scribbled on a piece of folded paper, in the manner of a writing -exercise, a poem in which he compared the scarf which she had dropped -in her flight to the dainty husk which the cicada sheds on some bank -beneath a tree. - -The boy picked the paper up, and thrust it into the folds of his dress. - -Genji was very much distressed at the thought of what the other lady’s -feelings must be; but after some reflection he decided that it would -be better not to send any message. - -The scarf, to which still clung the delicate perfume of its owner, he -wore for long afterwards beneath his dress. - -When the boy got home he found his sister waiting for him in very -ill-humour. ‘It was not your doing that I escaped from the odious -quandary in which you landed me! And even so pray what explanation can -I offer to my friend?’ ‘A fine little clown the Prince must think you -now. I hope you are ashamed of yourself.’ - -Despite the fact that both parties were using him so ill, the boy drew -the rescued verses from out the folds of his dress and handed them to -her. She could not forbear to read them. What of this discarded -mantle? Why should he speak of it? _The coat that the fishers of Iseo -left lying upon the shore ..._[3] those were the words that came into -her mind, but they were not the clue. She was sorely puzzled. - -Meanwhile the Lady of the West[4] was feeling very ill at ease. She -was longing to talk about what had happened, but must not do so, and -had to bear the burden of her impatience all alone. The arrival of -Utsusemi’s brother put her into a great state of excitement. No letter -for her? she could not understand it at all, and for the first time a -cloud settled upon her gay confiding heart. - -Utsusemi, though she had so fiercely steeled herself against his love, -seeing such tenderness hidden under the words of his message, again -fell to longing that she were free, and though there was no undoing -what was done she found it so hard to go without him that she took up -the folded paper and wrote in the margin a poem in which she said that -her sleeve, so often wet with tears, was like the cicada’s -dew-drenched wing. - -[1] Ki no Kami’s sister, referred to later in the story as Nokiba no -Ogi. - -[2] This name means ‘cicada ‘and is given to her later in the story in -reference to the scarf which she ‘discarded as a cicada sheds its -husk.’ But at this point it becomes grammatically important that she -should have a name and I therefore anticipate. - -[3] Allusion to the old poem, ‘Does he know that since he left me my -eyes are wet as the coat that the fishers ... left lying upon the -shore?’ - -[4] The visitor. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - YŪGAO - - -It was at the time when he was secretly visiting the lady of the Sixth -Ward.[1] One day on his way back from the Palace he thought that he -would call upon his foster-mother who, having for a long while been -very ill, had become a nun. She lived in the Fifth Ward. After many -enquiries he managed to find the house; but the front gate was locked -and he could not drive in. He sent one of his servants for Koremitsu, -his foster-nurse’s son, and while he was waiting began to examine the -rather wretched looking by-street. The house next door was fenced with -a new paling, above which at one place were four or five panels of -open trellis-work, screened by blinds which were very white and bare. -Through chinks in these blinds a number of foreheads could be seen. -They seemed to belong to a group of ladies who must be peeping with -interest into the street below. - -At first he thought they had merely peeped out as they passed; but he -soon realized that if they were standing on the floor they must be -giants. No, evidently they had taken the trouble to climb on to some -table or bed; which was surely rather odd! - -He had come in a plain coach with no outriders. No one could possibly -guess who he was, and feeling quite at his ease he leant forward -and deliberately examined the house. The gate, also made of a kind of -trellis-work, stood ajar, and he could see enough of the interior to -realize that it was a very humble and poorly furnished dwelling. For a -moment he pitied those who lived in such a place, but then he -remembered the song ‘Seek not in the wide world to find a home; but -where you chance to rest, call that your house’; and again, ‘Monarchs -may keep their palaces of jade, for in a leafy cottage two can sleep.’ - -There was a wattled fence over which some ivy-like creeper spread its -cool green leaves, and among the leaves were white flowers with petals -half unfolded like the lips of people smiling at their own thoughts. -‘They are called Yūgao, “Evening Faces,”’ one of his servants told -him; ‘how strange to find so lovely a crowd clustering on this -deserted wall!’ And indeed it was a most strange and delightful thing -to see how on the narrow tenement in a poor quarter of the town they -had clambered over rickety eaves and gables and spread wherever there -was room for them to grow. He sent one of his servants to pick some. -The man entered at the half-opened door, and had begun to pluck the -flowers, when a little girl in a long yellow tunic came through a -quite genteel sliding door, and holding out towards Genji’s servant a -white fan heavily perfumed with incense, she said to him ‘Would you -like something to put them on? I am afraid you have chosen a -wretched-looking bunch,’ and she handed him the fan. Just as he was -opening the gate on his way back, the old nurse’s son Koremitsu came -out of the other house full of apologies for having kept Genji waiting -so long—‘I could not find the key of the gate’ he said. ‘Fortunately -the people of this humble quarter were not likely to recognize you and -press or stare; but I am afraid you must have been very much bored -waiting in this hugger-mugger back street,’ and he conducted Genji -into the house. Koremitsu’s brother, the deacon, his brother-in-law -Mikawa no Kami and his sister all assembled to greet the Prince, -delighted by a visit with which they had not thought he was ever -likely to honour them again. - -The nun too rose from her couch: ‘For a long time I had been waiting -to give up the world, but one thing held me back: I wanted you to see -your old nurse just once again as you used to know her. You never came -to see me, and at last I gave up waiting and took my vows. Now, in -reward for the penances which my Order enjoins, I have got back a -little of my health, and having seen my dear young master again, I can -wait with a quiet mind for the Lord Amida’s Light,’ and in her -weakness she shed a few tears. - -‘I heard some days ago’ said Genji ‘that you were very dangerously -ill, and was in great anxiety. It is sad now to find you in this -penitential garb. You must live longer yet, and see me rise in the -world, that you may be born again high in the ninth sphere of Amida’s -Paradise. For they say that those who died with longings unfulfilled -are burdened with an evil Karma in their life to come.’ - -People such as old nurses regard even the most blackguardly and -ill-favoured foster-children as prodigies of beauty and virtue. Small -wonder then if Genji’s nurse, who had played so great a part in his -early life, always regarded her office as immensely honourable and -important, and tears of pride came into her eyes while he spoke to her. - -The old lady’s children thought it very improper that their mother, -having taken holy orders, should show so lively an interest in a human -career. Certain that Genji himself would be very much shocked, they -exchanged uneasy glances. He was on the contrary deeply touched. ‘When -I was a child’ he said ‘those who were dearest to me were early -taken away, and although there were many who gave a hand to my -upbringing, it was to you only, dear nurse, that I was deeply and -tenderly attached. When I grew up I could not any longer be often in -your company. I have not even been able to come here and see you as -often as I wanted to. But in all the long time which has passed since -I was last here, I have thought a great deal about you and wished that -life did not force so many bitter partings upon us.’ - -So he spoke tenderly. The princely scent of the sleeve which he had -raised to brush away his tears filled the low and narrow room, and -even the young people, who had till now been irritated by their -mother’s obvious pride at having been the nurse of so splendid a -prince, found themselves in tears. - -Having arranged for continual masses to be said on the sick woman’s -behalf, he took his leave, ordering Koremitsu to light him with a -candle. As they left the house he looked at the fan upon which the -white flowers had been laid. He now saw that there was writing on it, -a poem carelessly but elegantly scribbled: ‘The flower that puzzled -you was but the _Yūgao_, strange beyond knowing in its dress of -shining dew.’ It was written with a deliberate negligence which seemed -to aim at concealing the writer’s status and identity. But for all -that the hand showed a breeding and distinction which agreeably -surprised him. ‘Who lives in the house on the left?’ he asked. -Koremitsu, who did not at all want to act as a go-between, replied -that he had only been at his mother’s for five or six days and had -been so much occupied by her illness that he had not asked any -questions about the neighbours. ‘I want to know for a quite harmless -reason’ said Genji. ‘There is something about this fan which raises a -rather important point. I positively must settle it. You would oblige -me by making enquiries from someone who knows the neighbourhood.’ -Koremitsu went at once to the house next door and sent for -the steward. ‘This house’ the man said ‘belongs to a certain -Titular-Prefect. He is living in the country, but my lady is still -here; and as she is young and loves company, her brothers who are in -service at the Court often come here to visit her.’ ‘And that is about -all one can expect a servant to know’ said Koremitsu when he repeated -this information. It occurred at once to Genji that it was one of -these Courtiers who had written the poem. Yes, there was certainly a -self-confident air in the writing. It was by someone whose rank -entitled him to have a good opinion of himself. But he was -romantically disposed; it was too painful to dismiss altogether the -idea that, after all, the verses might really have been meant for him, -and on a folded paper he wrote: ‘Could I but get a closer view, no -longer would they puzzle me—the flowers that all too dimly in the -gathering dusk I saw.’ This he wrote in a disguised hand and gave to -his servant. The man reflected that though the senders of the fan had -never seen Genji before, yet so well known were his features, that -even the glimpse they had got from the window might easily have -revealed to them his identity. He could imagine the excitement with -which the fan had been despatched and the disappointment when for so -long a time no answer came. His somewhat rudely belated arrival would -seem to them to have been purposely contrived. They would all be agog -to know what was in the reply, and he felt very nervous as he -approached the house. - -Meanwhile, lighted only by a dim torch, Genji quietly left his nurse’s -home. The blinds of the other house were now drawn and only the -fire-fly glimmer of a candle shone through the gap between them. - -When he reached his destination[2] a very different scene met his -eyes. A handsome park, a well-kept garden; how spacious and -comfortable it all was! And soon the magnificent owner of these -splendours had driven from his head all thought of the wooden paling, -the shutters and the flowers. - -He stayed longer than he intended, and the sun was already up when he -set out for home. Again he passed the house with the shutters. He had -driven through the quarter countless times without taking the -slightest interest in it; but that one small episode of the fan had -suddenly made his daily passage through these streets an event of -great importance. He looked about him eagerly, and would have liked to -know who lived in all the houses. - -For several days Koremitsu did not present himself at Genji’s palace. -When at last he came, he explained that his mother was growing much -weaker and it was very difficult for him to get away. Then drawing -nearer, he said in a low voice ‘I made some further enquiries, but -could not find out much. It seems that someone came very secretly in -June and has been living there ever since; but who she really is not -even her own servants know. I have once or twice peeped through a hole -in the hedge and caught a glimpse of some young women; but their -skirts were rolled back and tucked in at their belts, so I think they -must have been waiting-maids. Yesterday some while after sunset I saw -a lady writing a letter. Her face was calm, but she looked very -unhappy, and I noticed that some of her women were secretly weeping.’ -Genji was more curious than ever. - -Though his master was of a rank which brought with it great -responsibilities, Koremitsu knew that in view of his youth and -popularity the young prince would be thought to be positively -neglecting his duty if he did not indulge in a few escapades, and that -everyone would regard his conduct as perfectly natural and proper -even when it was such as they would not have dreamed of permitting to -ordinary people. - -‘Hoping to get a little further information,’ he said, ‘I found an -excuse for communicating with her, and received in reply a very -well-worded answer in a cultivated hand. She must be a girl of quite -good position.’ ‘You must find out more’ said Genji; ‘I shall not be -happy till I know all about her.’ - -Here perhaps was just such a case as they had imagined on that rainy -night: a lady whose outward circumstances seemed to place her in that -‘Lowest Class’ which they had agreed to dismiss as of no interest; but -who in her own person showed qualities by no means despicable. - -But to return for a moment to Utsusemi. Her unkindness had not -affected him as it would have affected most people. If she had -encouraged him he would soon have regarded the affair as an appalling -indiscretion which he must put an end to at all costs; whereas now he -brooded continually upon his defeat and was forever plotting new ways -to shake her resolution. - -He had never, till the day of his visit to the foster-nurse, been -interested in anyone of quite the common classes. But now, since that -rainy night’s conversation, he had explored (so it seemed to him) -every corner of society, including in his survey even those categories -which his friends had passed over as utterly remote and improbable. He -thought of the lady who had, so to speak, been thrown into his life as -an extra. With how confiding an air she had promised that she would -wait! He was very sorry about her, but he was afraid that if he wrote -to her Utsusemi might find out and that would prejudice his chances. -He would write to her afterwards.... - -Suddenly at this point Iyo no Suke himself was announced. He had -just returned from his province, and had lost no time in paying his -respects to the prince. The long journey by boat had made him look -rather swarthy and haggard. ‘Really’ thought Genji ‘he is not at all -an attractive man!’ Still it was possible to talk to him; for if a man -is of decent birth and breeding, however broken he may be by age or -misfortune, he will always retain a certain refinement of mind and -manners which prevent him from becoming merely repulsive. They were -beginning to discuss the affairs of Iyo’s province and Genji was even -joking with him, when a sudden feeling of embarrassment came over him. -Why should those recollections make him feel so awkward? Iyo no Suke -was quite an old man, it had done him no harm. ‘These scruples are -absurd’ thought Genji. However, she was right in thinking it was -too queer, too ill-assorted a match; and remembering Uma no Kami’s -warnings, he felt that he had behaved badly. Though her unkindness -still deeply wounded him, he was almost glad for Iyo’s sake that she -had not relented. - -‘My daughter is to be married’ Iyo was saying ‘And I am going to take -my wife back with me to my province.’ Here was a double surprise. At -all costs he must see Utsusemi once again. He spoke with her brother -and the boy discussed the matter with her. It would have been -difficult enough for anyone to have carried on an intrigue with the -prince under such circumstances as these. But for her, so far below -him in rank and beset by new restrictions, it had now become -unthinkable. She could not however bear to lose all contact with him, -and not only did she answer his letters much more kindly than before, -but took pains, though they were written with apparent negligence, to -add little touches that would give him pleasure and make him see that -she still cared for him. All this he noticed, and though he was vexed -that she would not relent towards him, he found it impossible to -put her out of his mind. - -As for the other girl, he did not think that she was at all the kind -of person to go on pining for him once she was properly settled with a -husband; and he now felt quite happy about her. - -It was autumn. Genji had brought so many complications into his life -that he had for some while been very irregular in his visits to the -Great Hall, and was in great disgrace there. The lady[3] in the grand -mansion was very difficult to get on with; but he had surmounted so -many obstacles in his courtship of her that to give her up the moment -he had won her seemed absurd. Yet he could not deny that the blind -intoxicating passion which possessed him while she was still -unattainable, had almost disappeared. To begin with, she was far too -sensitive; then there was the disparity of their ages,[4] and the -constant dread of discovery which haunted him during those painful -partings at small hours of the morning. In fact, there were too many -disadvantages. - -It was a morning when mist lay heavy over the garden. After being many -times roused Genji at last came out of Rokujō’s room, looking very -cross and sleepy. One of the maids lifted part of the folding-shutter, -seeming to invite her mistress to watch the prince’s departure. Rokujō -pulled aside the bed-curtains and tossing her hair back over her -shoulders looked out into the garden. So many lovely flowers were -growing in the borders that Genji halted for a while to enjoy them. -How beautiful he looked standing there, she thought. As he was nearing -the portico the maid who had opened the shutters came and walked by -his side. She wore a light green skirt exquisitely matched to the -season and place; it was so hung as to show to great advantage -the grace and suppleness of her stride. Genji looked round at her. -‘Let us sit down for a minute on the railing here in the corner,’ he -said. ‘She seems very shy’ he thought, ‘but how charmingly her hair -falls about her shoulders,’ and he recited the poem: ‘Though I would -not be thought to wander heedlessly from flower to flower, yet this -morning’s pale convolvulus I fain would pluck!’ As he said the lines -he took her hand and she answered with practised ease: ‘You hasten, I -observe, to admire the morning flowers while the mist still lies about -them,’ thus parrying the compliment by a verse which might be -understood either in a personal or general sense. At this moment a -very elegant page wearing the most bewitching baggy trousers came -among the flowers brushing the dew as he walked, and began to pick a -bunch of the convolvuli. Genji longed to paint the scene. - -No one could see him without pleasure. He was like the flowering tree -under whose shade even the rude mountain peasant delights to rest. And -so great was the fascination he exercised that those who knew him -longed to offer him whatever was dearest to them. One who had a -favourite daughter would ask for nothing better than to make her -Genji’s handmaiden. Another who had an exquisite sister was ready for -her to serve in his household, though it were at the most menial -tasks. Still less could these ladies who on such occasions as this -were privileged to converse with him and stare at him as much as they -pleased, and were moreover young people of much sensibility—how could -they fail to delight in his company and note with much uneasiness that -his visits were becoming far less frequent than before? - -But where have I got to? Ah, yes. Koremitsu had patiently continued -the enquiry with which Genji entrusted him. ‘Who the mistress is’ he -said, ‘I have not been able to discover; and for the most part -she is at great pains not to show herself. But more than once in the -general confusion, when there was the sound of a carriage coming along -past that great row of tenement houses, and all the maid-servants were -peering out into the road, the young lady whom I suppose to be the -mistress of the house slipped out along with them. I could not see her -clearly, but she seemed to be very pretty. - -‘One day, seeing a carriage with outriders coming towards the house, -one of the maids rushed off calling out “Ukon, Ukon, come quickly and -look. The Captain’s carriage is coming this way.” At once a -pleasant-faced lady no longer young, came bustling out. “Quietly, -quietly” she said holding up a warning finger; “how do you know it is -the Captain? I shall have to go and look,” and she slipped out. A sort -of rough drawbridge leads from the garden into the lane. In her -excitement the good lady caught her skirt in it and falling flat on -her face almost tumbled into the ditch: “A bad piece of work His -Holiness of Katsuragi[5] made here!” she grumbled; but her curiosity -did not seem to be at all damped and she stared harder than ever at -the approaching carriage. The visitor was dressed in a plain, wide -cloak. He had attendants with him, whose names the excited -servant-girls called out as one after another they came near enough to -be recognized; and the odd thing is that the names were certainly -those of Tō no Chūjō’s[6] grooms and pages.’ - -‘I must see that carriage for myself’ said Genji. What if this should -be the very lady whom Chūjō, at the time of that rainy night’s -conversation, despaired of rediscovering? Koremitsu, noting that Genji -was listening with particular attention continued: ‘I must tell you -that I too have reason to be interested in this house, and while -making enquiries on my own account I discovered that the young lady -always addresses the other girls in the house as though they were her -equals. But when, pretending to be taken in by this comedy, I began -visiting there, I noticed that though the older ladies played their -part very well, the young girls would every now and then curtsey or -slip in a “My Lady” without thinking; whereupon the others would -hasten to cover up the mistake as best they might, saying anything -they could think of to make it appear that there was no mistress among -them,’ and Koremitsu laughed as he recollected it. - -‘Next time I come to visit your mother’ said Genji, ‘you must let me -have a chance of peeping at them.’ He pictured to himself the queer, -tumbled-down house. She was only living there for the time being; but -all the same she must surely belong to that ‘bottom class’ which they -had dismissed as having no possible bearing on the discussion. How -amusing it would be to show that they were wrong and that after all -something of interest might be discovered in such a place! - -Koremitsu, anxious to carry out his master’s every wish and intent -also on his own intrigue, contrived at last by a series of ingenious -stratagems to effect a secret meeting between Genji and the mysterious -lady. The details of the plan by which he brought this about would -make a tedious story, and as is my rule in such cases I have thought -it better to omit them. - -Genji never asked her by what name he was to call her, nor did he -reveal his own identity. He came very poorly dressed and—what was most -unusual for him—on foot. But Koremitsu regarded this as too great a -tribute to so unimportant a lady, and insisted upon Genji riding his -horse, while he walked by his side. In doing so he sacrificed his -own feelings; for he too had reasons for wishing to create a good -impression in the house, and he knew that by arriving in this rather -undignified way he would sink in the estimation of the inhabitants. -Fortunately his discomfiture was almost unwitnessed, for Genji took -with him only the one attendant who had on the first occasion plucked -the flowers—a boy whom no one was likely to recognize; and lest -suspicions should be aroused, he did not even take advantage of his -presence in the neighbourhood to call at his foster-nurse’s house. - -The lady was very much mystified by all these precautions and made -great efforts to discover something more about him. She even sent -someone after him to see where he went to when he left her at -day-break; but he succeeded in throwing his pursuer off the scent and -she was no wiser than before. He was now growing far too fond of her. -He was miserable if anything interfered with his visits; and though he -utterly disapproved of his own conduct and worried a great deal about -it, he soon found that he was spending most of his time at her house. - -He knew that at some time or another in their lives even the soberest -people lose their heads in this way; but hitherto he had never really -lost his, or done anything which could possibly have been considered -very wrong. Now to his astonishment and dismay he discovered that even -the few morning hours during which he was separated from her were -becoming unendurable. ‘What is it in her that makes me behave like a -madman?’ he kept on asking himself. She was astonishingly gentle and -unassuming, to the point even of seeming rather apathetic, rather -deficient perhaps in depth of character and emotion; and though she -had a certain air of girlish inexperience, it was clear that he was -not by any means her first lover; and certainly she was rather -plebeian. What was it exactly that so fascinated him? He asked -himself the question again and again, but found no answer. - -She for her part was very uneasy to see him come to her thus in shabby -old hunting-clothes, trying always to hide his face, leaving while it -was still dark and everyone was asleep. He seemed like some -demon-lover in an old ghost-tale, and she was half-afraid. But his -smallest gesture showed that he was someone out of the ordinary, and -she began to suspect that he was a person of high rank, who had used -Koremitsu as his go-between. But Koremitsu obstinately pretended to -know nothing at all about his companion, and continued to amuse -himself by frequenting the house on his own account. - -What could it mean? She was dismayed at this strange love-making -with—she knew not whom. But about her too there was something -fugitive, insubstantial. Genji was obsessed by the idea that, just as -she had hidden herself in this place, so one day she would once more -vanish and hide, and he would never be able to find her again. There -was every sign that her residence here was quite temporary. He was -sure that when the time came to move she would not tell him where she -was going. Of course her running away would be proof that she was not -worth bothering about any more, and he ought, thankful for the -pleasure they had had together, simply to leave the matter at that. -But he knew that this was the last thing he would be likely to do. - -People were already beginning to be suspicious, and often for several -nights running he was unable to visit her. This became so intolerable -that in his impatience he determined to bring her secretly to the -Nijō-in.[7] There would be an appalling outcry if she were discovered; -but that must be risked. - -‘I am going to take you somewhere very nice where no one will disturb -us’ he said at last. ‘No, No’ she cried; ‘your ways are so strange, I -should be frightened to go with you.’ She spoke in a tone of childish -terror, and Genji answered smiling: ‘One or the other of us must be a -fox-in-disguise.[8] Here is a chance to find out which it is!’ He -spoke very kindly, and suddenly, in a tone of absolute submission, she -consented to do whatever he thought best. He could not but be touched -at her willingness to follow him in what must appear to her to be the -most hazardous and bizarre adventure. Again he thought of Tō no -Chūjō’s story on that rainy night, and could not doubt that this must -indeed be Chūjō’s fugitive lady. But he saw that she had some reason -for wishing to avoid all questions about her past, and he restrained -his curiosity. So far as he could see she showed no signs of running -away; nor did he believe that she would do so as long as he was -faithful. Tō no Chūjō, after all, had for months on end left her to -her own devices. But he felt that if for an instant she suspected him -of the slightest leaning in any other direction it would be a bad -business. - -It was the fifteenth night of the eighth month. The light of an -unclouded full-moon shone between the ill-fitting planks of the roof -and flooded the room. What a queer place to be lying in! thought -Genji, as he gazed round the garret, so different from any room he had -ever known before. It must be almost day. In the neighbouring houses -people were beginning to stir, and there was an uncouth sound of -peasant voices: ‘Eh! how cold it is! I can’t believe we shall do much -with the crops this year.’ ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen about -my carrying-trade’ said another; ‘things look very bad.’ Then (banging -on the wall of another house) ‘Wake up, neighbour. Time to start. -Did he hear, d’you think?’ and they rose and went off each to the -wretched task by which he earned his bread. - -All this clatter and bustle going on so near her made the lady very -uncomfortable, and indeed so dainty and fastidious a person must often -in this miserable lodging have suffered things which would make her -long to sink through the floor. But however painful, disagreeable or -provoking were the things that happened, she gave no sign of noticing -them. That being herself so shrinking and delicate in her ways she -could yet endure without a murmur the exasperating banging and bumping -that was going on in every direction, aroused his admiration, and he -felt that this was much nicer of her than if she had shuddered with -horror at each sound. But now, louder than thunder, came the noise of -the threshing-mills, seeming so near that they could hardly believe it -did not come from out of the pillow itself. Genji thought that his -ears would burst. What many of the noises were he could not at all -make out; but they were very peculiar and startling. The whole air -seemed to be full of crashings and bangings. Now from one side, now -from another, came too the faint thud of the bleacher’s mallet, and -the scream of wild geese passing overhead. It was all too distracting. - -Their room was in the front of the house. Genji got up and opened the -long, sliding shutters. They stood together looking out. In the -courtyard near them was a clump of fine Chinese bamboos; dew lay thick -on the borders, glittering here no less brightly than in the great -gardens to which Genji was better accustomed. There was a confused -buzzing of insects. Crickets were chirping in the wall. He had often -listened to them, but always at a distance; now, singing so close to -him, they made a music which was unfamiliar and indeed seemed far -lovelier than that with which he was acquainted. But then, -everything in this place where one thing was so much to his liking, -seemed despite all drawbacks to take on a new tinge of interest and -beauty. She was wearing a white bodice with a soft, grey cloak over -it. It was a poor dress, but she looked charming and almost -distinguished; even so, there was nothing very striking in her -appearance—only a certain fragile grace and elegance. It was when she -was speaking that she looked really beautiful, there was such pathos, -such earnestness in her manner. If only she had a little more spirit! -But even as she was he found her irresistible and longed to take her -to some place where no one could disturb them: ‘I am going to take you -somewhere not at all far away where we shall be able to pass the rest -of the night in peace. We cannot go on like this, parting always at -break of day.’ ‘Why have you suddenly come to that conclusion?’ she -asked, but she spoke submissively. He vowed to her that she should be -his love in this and in all future lives and she answered so -passionately that she seemed utterly transformed from the listless -creature he had known, and it was hard to believe that such vows were -no novelty to her. - -Discarding all prudence he sent for the maid Ukon and bade her order -his servants to fetch a coach. The affair was soon known to all the -household, and the ladies were at first somewhat uneasy at seeing -their mistress carried off in this fashion; but on the whole they did -not think he looked the sort of person who would do her any harm. It -was now almost daylight. The cocks had stopped crowing. The voice of -an old man (a pilgrim preparing for the ascent of the Holy Mountain) -sounded somewhere not far away; and, as at each prayer he bent forward -to touch the ground with his head, they could hear with what pain and -difficulty he moved. What could he be asking for in his prayers, this -old man whose life seemed fragile as the morning dew? Namu tōrai -no dōshi ‘Glory be to the Saviour that shall come’: now they could -hear the words. ‘Listen’ said Genji tenderly, ‘is not that an omen -that our love shall last through many lives to come? ‘And he recited -the poem: ‘Do not prove false this omen of the pilgrim’s chant: that -even in lives to come our love shall last unchanged.’ - -Then unlike the lovers in the ‘Everlasting Wrong’ who prayed that they -might be as the ‘twin birds that share a wing’ (for they remembered -that this story had ended very sadly) they prayed ‘May our love last -till Maitreya comes as a Buddha into the World.’ But she, still -distrustful, answered his poem with the verse: ‘Such sorrow have I -known in this world that I have small hope of worlds to come.’ Her -versification was still a little tentative.[9] - -She was thinking with pleasure that the setting moon would light them -on their way, and Genji was just saying so when suddenly the moon -disappeared behind a bank of clouds. But there was still great beauty -in the dawning sky. Anxious to be gone before it was quite light, he -hurried her away to the coach and put Ukon by her side. - -They drove to an untenanted mansion which was not far off. While he -waited for the steward to come out Genji noticed that the gates were -crumbling away; dense shinobu-grass grew around them. So sombre an -entrance he had never seen. There was a thick mist and the dew was so -heavy that when he raised the carriage-blind his sleeve was drenched. -‘Never yet has such an adventure as this befallen me’ said Genji; ‘so -I am, as you may imagine, rather excited,’ and he made a poem in which -he said that though love’s folly had existed since the beginning of -the world, never could man have set out more rashly at the break of -day into a land unknown. ‘But to you this is no great novelty?’ -She blushed and in her turn made a poem: ‘I am as the moon that walks -the sky not knowing what menace the cruel hills may hold in store; -high though she sweeps, her light may suddenly be blotted out.’ - -She seemed very depressed and nervous. But this he attributed to the -fact that she had probably always lived in small houses where -everything was huddled together, and he was amused at the idea that -this large mansion should overawe her. They drove in, and while a room -was being got ready they remained in the carriage which had been drawn -up alongside of the balustrade. Ukon, looking very innocent all the -while, was inwardly comparing this excursion with her mistress’s -previous adventures. She had noticed the tone of extreme deference -with which this latest lover had been received by the steward, and had -begun to draw her own conclusions. - -The mist was gradually clearing away. They left the coach and went -into the room which had been prepared for them. Though so quickly -improvised, their quarters were admirably clean and well-provided, for -the steward’s son had previously been a trusted house-servant of -Genji’s and had also worked at the Great Hall. Coming now to their -room he offered to send for some of Genji’s gentlemen, ‘For’ he said -‘I cannot bear to see you going unattended.’ ‘Do nothing of the kind’ -said Genji; ‘I have come here because I do not wish to be disturbed. -No one but yourself is to know that I have used this house,’ and he -exacted a promise of absolute secrecy. No regular meal had been -prepared, but the steward brought them a little rice porridge. Then -they lay down again to sleep together for the first time in this -unfamiliar and so strangely different place. - -The sun was high when they woke. Genji went and opened the shutters -himself. How deserted the garden looked! Certainly here there was no -one to spy upon them. He looked out into the distance: dense -woods fast turning to jungle. And nearer the house not a flower or -bush, but only unkempt, autumn grasslands, and a pond choked with -weeds. It was a wild and desolate place. It seemed that the steward -and his men must live in some outbuilding or lodge at a distance from -the house; for here there was no sign or sound of life. ‘It is, I must -own, a strange and forsaken place to which we have come. But no ghost -or evil fairy will dare molest you while _I_ am here.’ - -It pained her very much that he still was masked;[10] and indeed such -a precaution was quite out of keeping with the stage at which they had -now arrived. So at last, reciting a poem in which he reminded her that -all their love down to this moment when ‘the flower opened its petals -to the evening dew’ had come from a chance vision seen casually from -the street, half-turning his face away, for a moment he let her see -him unmasked. ‘What of the “shining dew”’ he asked using the words -that she had written on the fan. ‘How little knew I of its beauty who -had but in the twilight doubted and guessed...!’; so she answered his -poem in a low and halting voice. She need not have feared, for to him, -poor as the verses were, they seemed delightful. And indeed the beauty -of his uncovered face, suddenly revealed to her in this black -wilderness of dereliction and decay, surpassed all loveliness that she -had ever dreamed of or imagined. ‘I cannot wonder that while I still -set this barrier between us, you did not choose to tell me all that I -longed to know. But now it would be very unkind of you not to tell me -your name.’ ‘I am like the fisherman’s daughter in the song’[11] she -said, ‘“I have no name or home.”’ But for all that she would not tell -him who she was, she seemed much comforted that he had let her -see him. ‘Do as you please about it’ said Genji at last; but for a -while he was out of temper. Soon they had made it up again; and so the -day passed. Presently Koremitsu came to their quarters, bringing fruit -and other viands. He would not come in, for he was frightened that -Ukon would rate him mercilessly for the part he had played in -arranging the abduction of her mistress. He had now come to the -conclusion that the Lady must possess charms which he had wholly -overlooked, or Genji would certainly never have taken all this trouble -about her, and he was touched at his own magnanimity in surrendering -to his master a prize which he might well have kept for himself. It -was an evening of marvellous stillness. Genji sat watching the sky. -The lady found the inner room where she was sitting depressingly dark -and gloomy. He raised the blinds of the front room, and came to sit -with her. They watched the light of the sunset glowing in each other’s -eyes, and in her wonder at his adorable beauty and tenderness she -forgot all her fears. At last she was shy with him no longer, and he -thought that the new-found boldness and merriment became her very -well. She lay by his side till night. He saw that she was again -wearing the plaintive expression of a frightened child; so quickly -closing the partition-door he brought in the great lamp, saying: -‘Outwardly you are no longer shy with me; but I can see that deep down -in your heart there is still some sediment of rancour and distrust. It -is not kind to use me so,’ and again he was cross with her. - -What were the people at the Palace thinking? Would he have been sent -for? How far would the messengers pursue their search? He became quite -agitated. Then there was the great lady in the Sixth Ward.[12] What a -frenzy she must be in! This time, however, she really had good -cause to be jealous. These and other unpleasant considerations were -crowding into his head, when looking at the girl who lay beside him so -trustfully, unconscious of all that was going on in his mind, he was -suddenly filled with an overwhelming tenderness towards her. How -tiresome the other was, with her eternal susceptibilities, jealousies -and suspicions! For a while at any rate he would stop seeing her. As -the night wore on they began sometimes to doze. Suddenly Genji saw -standing over him the figure of a woman, tall and majestic: ‘You who -think yourself so fine, how comes it that you have brought to toy with -you here this worthless common creature, picked up at random in the -streets? I am astonished and displeased,’ and with this she made as -though to drag the lady from his side. Thinking that this was some -nightmare or hallucination, he roused himself and sat up. The lamp had -gone out. Somewhat agitated he drew his sword and laid it beside him, -calling as he did so for Ukon. She came at once, looking a good deal -scared herself. ‘Please wake the watchman in the cross-wing,’ he said, -‘and tell him to bring a candle.’ ‘All in the dark like this? How can -I?’ she answered. ‘Don’t be childish,’ said Genji laughing and clapped -his hands.[13] The sound echoed desolately through the empty house. He -could not make anyone hear; and meanwhile he noticed that his mistress -was trembling from head to foot. What should he do? He was still -undecided, when suddenly she burst out into a cold sweat. She seemed -to be losing consciousness. ‘Do not fear, Sir’ said Ukon ‘all her life -she has been subject to these nightmare fits.’ He remembered now how -tired she had seemed in the morning and how she had lain with her eyes -turned upwards as though in pain. ‘I will go myself and wake someone’ -he said; ‘I am tired of clapping with only echoes to answer me. -Do not leave her!’ and drawing Ukon towards the bed he went in the -direction of the main western door. But when he opened it, he found -that the lamp in the cross-wing had also gone out. A wind had risen. -The few attendants he had brought with him were already in bed. There -was indeed only the steward’s son (the young man who had once been -Genji’s body-servant), and the one young courtier who had attended him -on all his visits. They answered when he called and sprang to their -feet. ‘Come with a candle,’ he said to the steward’s son, ‘and tell my -man to get his bow and keep on twanging the string as loud as he can. -I wonder anyone should sleep so soundly in such a deserted place. What -has happened to Koremitsu?’ ‘He waited for some time, but as you -seemed to have no need of him, he went home, saying he would be back -at day-break.’ - -Genji’s man had been an Imperial Bowman, and making a tremendous din -with his bow he strode towards the steward’s lodge crying ‘Fire, Fire’ -at the top of his voice. The twanging of the bow reminded Genji of the -Palace. The roll-call of night courtiers must be over; the Bowman’s -roll-call must be actually going on. It was not so very late. - -He groped his way back into the room. She was lying just as he had -left her, with Ukon face downwards beside her. ‘What are you doing -there’ he cried? ‘Have you gone mad with fright? You have heard no -doubt that in such lonely places as this, fox-spirits sometimes try to -cast a spell upon men. But, dear people, you need not fear. I have -come back, and will not let such creatures harm you.’ And so saying he -dragged Ukon from the bed. ‘Oh, Sir’ she said ‘I felt so queer and -frightened that I fell flat down upon my face; and what my poor lady -must be going through I dare not think.’ ‘Then try not to add to her -fright’ said Genji, and pushing her aside bent over the prostate -form. The girl was scarcely breathing. He touched her; she was quite -limp. She did not know him. - -Perhaps some accursed thing, some demon had tried to snatch her spirit -away; she was so timid, so childishly helpless. The man came with the -candle. Ukon was still too frightened to move. Genji placed a screen -so as to hide the bed and called the man to him. It was of course -contrary to etiquette that he should serve Genji himself and he -hesitated in embarrassment, not venturing even to ascend the dais. -‘Come here’ said Genji impatiently; ‘use your common-sense.’ -Reluctantly the man gave him the light, and as he held it towards the -bed, he saw for a moment the figure which had stood there in his dream -still hovering beside the pillow; suddenly it vanished. He had read in -old tales of such apparitions and of their power, and was in great -alarm. But for the moment he was so full of concern for the lady who -now lay motionless on the bed, that he gave no thought to that -menacing vision, and lying down beside her, began gently to move her -limbs. Already they were growing cold. Her breathing had quite -stopped. What could he do? To whom could he turn for help? He ought to -send for a priest. He tried to control himself, but he was very young, -and seeing her lying there all still and pale, he could contain -himself no longer and crying ‘Come back to me, my own darling, come -back to life. Do not look at me so strangely!’ he flung his arms about -her. But now she was quite cold. Her face was set in a dull, senseless -stare. - -Suddenly Ukon, who had been so busy with her own fears, came to -herself again, and set up the most dismal weeping. He disregarded her. -Something had occurred to him. There was a story of how a certain -minister was waylaid by a demon as he passed through the Southern -Hall. The man, Genji remembered, had been prostrate with fear; but in -the end he revived and escaped. No, she could not really be dead, -and turning to Ukon he said firmly: ‘Come now, we cannot have you -making such a hideous noise in the middle of the night.’ But he -himself was stunned with grief, and though he gave Ukon distracted -orders scarce knew what he was doing. Presently he sent for the -steward’s son and said to him: ‘Someone here has had a fright and is -in a very bad way. I want you to go to Koremitsu’s house and tell him -to come as quickly as he can. If his brother the priest is there too, -take him aside and tell him quietly that I should like to see him at -once. But do not speak loud enough for the nun their mother to hear; -for I would not have her know of this excursion.’ But though he -managed to say the words, his brain was all the while in a hideous -turmoil. For added to the ghastly thought that he himself had caused -her death there was the dread and horror with which the whole place -now inspired him. - -It was past midnight. A violent storm began to rise, sighing dismally -as it swept the pine-trees that clustered round the house. And all the -while some strange bird—an owl, he supposed—kept screeching hoarsely. -Utter desolation on all sides. No human voice; no friendly sound. Why, -why had he chosen this hideous place? - -Ukon had fainted and was lying by her mistress’s side. Was she too -going to die of fright? No, no. He must not give way to such thoughts. -He was now the only person left who was capable of action. Was there -nothing he could do? The candle was burning badly. He lit it again. -Over by the screen in the corner of the main room something was -moving. There it was again, but in another corner now. There was a -sound of footsteps treading cautiously. It still went on. Now they -were coming up behind him.... - -If only Koremitsu would return! But Koremitsu was a rover and a long -time was wasted in looking for him. Would it never be day? It seemed -to him that this night was lasting a thousand years. But now, -somewhere a long way off, a cock crowed. - -Why had fate seen fit to treat him thus? He felt that it must be as a -punishment for all the strange and forbidden amours into which in -these last years he had despite himself been drawn, that now this -unheard of horror had befallen him. And such things, though one may -keep them secret for a time, always come out in the end. He minded -most that the Emperor would be certain to discover sooner or later -about this and all his other affairs. Then there was the general -scandal. Everyone would know. The very gutter boys would make merry -over him. Never, never must he do such things again, or his reputation -would utterly collapse.... - -At last Koremitsu arrived. He prided himself on being always ready to -carry out his master’s wishes immediately at whatever hour of the -night or day, and he thought it very provoking of Genji to have sent -for him just on the one occasion when he was not to hand. And now that -he had come his master did not seem able to give him any orders, but -stood speechless in front of him. - -Ukon, hearing Koremitsu’s voice, suddenly came to herself and -remembering what had happened, burst into tears. And now Genji, who -while he alone was there had supported and encouraged the weeping -maid-servant, relieved at last by Koremitsu could contain himself no -longer, and suddenly realizing again the terrible thing that had -befallen him he burst into uncontrollable weeping. ‘Something horrible -has happened here,’ he managed to say at last, ‘too dreadful to -explain. I have heard that when such things as this suddenly befall, -certain scriptures should be read. I would have this done, and prayers -said. That is why I asked you to bring your brother....’ - -‘He went up to the mountain yesterday’ said Koremitsu. ‘But I see -that there has been terrible work here afoot. Was it in some sudden -fit of madness that you did this thing?’ Genji shook his head. So -moved was Koremitsu at the sight of his master weeping, that he too -began to sob. Had he been an older man, versed in the ways of the -world, he might have been of some use in such a crisis, but both of -them were young and both were equally perplexed. At last Koremitsu -said: ‘One thing at least is clear. The steward’s son must not know. -For though he himself can be depended upon, he is the sort of person -who is sure to tell all his relatives, and they might meddle -disastrously in the affair. We had best get clear of this house as -quietly as we can.’ ‘Perhaps’ said Genji; ‘but it would be hard to -find a less frequented place than this.’ ‘At any rate’ Koremitsu -continued, ‘we cannot take her to her own house; for there her -gentlewomen, who loved her dearly, would raise such a weeping and -wailing as would soon bring a pack of neighbours swarming around, and -all would quickly be known. If only I knew of some mountain-temple—for -there such things are customary[14] and pass almost unnoticed.’ He -paused and reflected. ‘There is a lady I once knew who has become a -nun and now lives on the Higashi Yama. She was my father’s wet-nurse -and is now very old and bent. She does not of course live alone; but -no outside people come there.’ A faint light was already showing in -the sky when Koremitsu brought the carriage in. Thinking that Genji -would not wish to move the body himself, he wrapt it in a rush-mat and -carried it towards the carriage. How small she was to hold! Her face -was calm and beautiful. He felt no repulsion. He could find no way to -secure her hair, and when he began to carry her it overflowed and -hung towards the ground. Genji saw, and his eyes darkened. A hideous -anguish possessed him. - -He tried to follow the body, but Koremitsu dissuaded him, saying ‘You -must ride back to your palace as quickly as you can; you have just -time to get there before the stir begins,’ and putting Ukon into the -carriage, he gave Genji his horse. Then pulling up his silk trousers -to the knee, he accompanied the carriage on foot. It was a very -singular procession; but Koremitsu, seeing his master’s terrible -distress, forgot for the moment his own dignity and walked stolidly -on. Genji, hardly conscious of what went on around him arrived at last -in ghostly pallor at his house. ‘Where do you come from, my Lord?’ -‘How ill you look.’ ... Questions assailed him, but he hurried to his -room and lay behind his curtain. He tried to calm himself, but hideous -thoughts tormented him. Why had he not insisted upon going with her? -What if after all she were not dead and waking up should find that he -had thus abandoned her? While these wild thoughts chased through his -brain a terrible sensation of choking began to torment him. His head -ached, his body seemed to be on fire. Indeed he felt so strange that -he thought he too was about to die suddenly and inexplicably as she -had done. The sun was now high, but he did not get up. His gentlemen, -with murmurs of astonishment, tried every means to rouse him. He sent -away the dainties they brought, and lay hour after hour plunged in the -darkest thoughts. A messenger arrived from the Emperor: ‘His Majesty -has been uneasy since yesterday when his envoys sought everywhere for -your Highness in vain.’ - -The young lords too came from the Great Hall. He would see none of -them but Tō no Chūjō, and even him he made stand outside his curtain -while he spoke to him: ‘My foster-mother has been very ill since the -fifth month. She shaved her head and performed other penances, in -consequence of which (or so it seems) she recovered a little and -got up, but is very much enfeebled. She sent word that she desired to -see me once more before she died, and as I was very fond of her when I -was a child, I could not refuse. While I was there a servant in the -house fell ill and died quite suddenly. Out of consideration for me -they removed the body at nightfall. But as soon as I was told of what -had happened I remembered that the Fast of the Ninth Month was at hand -and for this reason I have not thought it right to present myself to -the Emperor my father. Moreover, since early morning I have had a -cough and very bad headache, so you will forgive me for treating you -in this way.’ - -‘I will give the Emperor your message. But I must tell you that last -night when you were out he sent messengers to look for you and seemed, -if I may venture to say so, to be in a very ill humour.’ Tō no Chūjō -turned to go, but pausing a moment came back to Genji’s couch and said -quietly: ‘What really happened to you last night? What you told me -just now cannot possibly be true.’ ‘You need not go into details,’ -answered Genji impatiently. ‘Simply tell him that unintentionally I -became exposed to a pollution, and apologize to him for me as best you -can.’ He spoke sharply, but in his heart there was only an unspeakable -sadness; and he was very tired. - -All day he lay hidden from sight. Once he sent for Tō no Chūjō’s -brother Kurōdo no Ben and gave him a formal message for the Emperor. -The same excuse would serve for the Great Hall, and he sent a similar -message there and to other houses where he might be expected. - -At dusk Koremitsu came. The story of Genji’s pollution had turned all -visitors from the door, and Koremitsu found his palace utterly -deserted. ‘What happened?’ said Genji, summoning him, ‘you are sure -that she is dead?’ and holding his sleeve before his face he wept. -‘All is over; of that there is no doubt,’ said Koremitsu, also in -tears; ‘and since it is not possible for them to keep the body long, I -have arranged with a very respectable aged priest who is my friend -that the ceremony shall take place to-morrow, since to-morrow chances -to be a good calendar day.’ ‘And what of her gentlewoman?’ asked -Genji. ‘I fear she will not live,’ said Koremitsu. ‘She cries out that -she must follow her mistress and this morning, had I not held her, she -would have cast herself from a high rock. She threatened to tell the -servants at my lady’s house, but I prevailed upon her to think the -matter over quietly before she did this.’ ‘Poor thing,’ said Genji, -‘small wonder that she should be thus distracted. I too am feeling -strangely disordered and do not know what will become of me.’ ‘Torment -yourself no more,’ said Koremitsu. ‘All things happen as they must. -Here is one who will handle this matter very prudently for you, and -none shall be the wiser.’ ‘Happen as they must. You are right’ said -Genji ‘and so I try to persuade myself. But in the pursuit of one’s -own wanton pleasures to have done harm and to have caused someone’s -death—that is a hideous crime; a terrible load of sin to bear with me -through the world. Do not tell even your sister; much less your mother -the nun, for I am ashamed that she should even know I have ever done -that kind of thing.’[15] ‘Do not fear’ answered Koremitsu. ‘Even to -the priests, who must to a certain extent be let into the secret, I -have told a long made-up tale’ and Genji felt a little easier in his -mind. - -The waiting-women of his palace were sorely puzzled; ‘First he says he -has been defiled and cannot go to Court, and now he sits whispering -and sighing.’ What could it all mean? ‘Again I beg you’ said Genji at -last ‘to see that everything is done as it should be.’ He was thinking -all the time of the elaborate Court funerals which he had -witnessed (he had, indeed, seen no others) and imagined Koremitsu -directing a complicated succession of rituals. ‘I will do what I can; -it will be no such great matter,’ he answered and turned to go. -Suddenly Genji could bear no longer the thought that he should never -see her again. ‘You will think it very foolish of me,’ he said, ‘but I -am coming with you. I shall ride on horseback.’ ‘If your heart is set -upon it,’ said Koremitsu, ‘it is not for me to reason with you. Let us -start soon, so that we may be back before the night is over.’ So -putting on the hunting-dress and other garments in which he had -disguised himself before, he left his room. - -Already the most hideous anguish possessed him, and now, as he set out -upon this strange journey, to the dark thoughts that filled his mind -was added a dread lest his visit might rouse to some fresh fury the -mysterious power which had destroyed her. Should he go? He hesitated; -but though he knew that this way lay no cure for his sadness, yet if -he did not see her now, never again perhaps in any life to come would -he meet the face and form that he had loved so well. So with Koremitsu -and the one same groom to bear him company he set out upon the road. - -The way seemed endless. The moon of the seventeenth night had risen -and lit up the whole space of the Kamo plain, and in the light of the -outrunners’ torches the countryside towards Toribeno now came dimly -into sight. But Genji in his sickness and despair saw none of this, -and suddenly waking from the stupor into which he had fallen found -that they had arrived. - -The nun’s cell was in a chapel built against the wall of a wooden -house. It was a desolate spot, but the chapel itself was very -beautiful. The light of the visitors’ torches flickered through the -open door. In the inner room there was no sound but that of a -woman weeping by herself; in the outer room were several priests -talking together (or was it praying?) in hushed voices. In the -neighbouring temples vespers were over and there was absolute -stillness; only towards the Kiyomizu were lights visible and many -figures seemed to throng the hill-side.[16] - -A senior priest, son of the aged nun, now began to recite the -Scriptures in an impressive voice, and Genji as he listened felt the -tears come into his eyes. He went in. Ukon was lying behind a screen; -when she heard him enter, she turned the lamp to the wall. What -terrible thing was she trying to hide from him? But when he came -nearer he saw to his joy that the dead lady was not changed in any way -whatsoever, but lay there very calm and beautiful; and feeling no -horror or fear at all he took her hand and said, ‘Speak to me once -again; tell me why for so short a while you came to me and filled my -heart with gladness, and then so soon forsook me, who loved you so -well?’ and he wept long and bitterly by her side. - -The priests did not know who he was, but they were touched by his -evident misery and themselves shed tears. He asked Ukon to come back -with him, but she answered: ‘I have served this lady since she was a -little child and never once for so much as an hour have I left her. -How can I suddenly part from one who was so dear to me and serve in -another’s house? And I must now go and tell her people what has become -of her; for (such is the manner of her death) if I do not speak soon, -there will be an outcry that it was I who was to blame, and that would -be a terrible thing for me, Sir,’ and she burst into tears, wailing ‘I -will lie with her upon the pyre; my smoke shall mingle with hers!’ - -‘Poor soul’ said Genji, ‘I do not wonder at your despair. But -this is the way of the world. Late or soon we must all go where she -has gone. Take comfort and trust in me.’ So he sought to console her, -but in a moment he added: ‘Those, I know, are but hollow words. I too -care no longer for life and would gladly follow her.’ So he spoke, -giving her in the end but little comfort. - -‘The night is far spent’ said Koremitsu; ‘we must now be on our way.’ -And so with many backward looks and a heart full to bursting he left -the house. A heavy dew had fallen and the mist was so thick that it -was hard to see the road. On the way it occurred to him that she was -still wearing his scarlet cloak, which he had lent her when they lay -down together on the last evening. How closely their lives had been -entwined! - -Noting that he sat very unsteadily in his saddle, Koremitsu walked -beside him and gave him a hand. But when they came to a dyke, he lost -hold and his master fell to the ground. Here he lay in great pain and -bewilderment. ‘I shall not live to finish the journey’ he said; ‘I -have not strength to go so far.’ Koremitsu too was sorely troubled, -for he felt that despite all Genji’s insistence, he ought never to -have allowed him, fever-stricken as he was, to embark upon this -disastrous journey. In great agitation he plunged his hands in the -river and prayed to Our Lady Kwannon of Kiyomizu. Genji too roused -himself at last and forced himself to pray inwardly to the Buddha. And -so they managed to start upon their journey again and in the end with -Koremitsu’s help he reached his palace. - -This sudden journey undertaken so late at night had seemed to all his -household the height of imprudence. They had noted for some while past -his nightly wanderings grow more and more frequent; but though often -agitated and pre-occupied, never had he returned so haggard as that -morning. What could be the object of these continual excursions? -And they shook their heads in great concern. Genji flung himself upon -his bed and lay there in fever and pain for several days. He was -growing very weak. The news was brought to the Emperor who was greatly -distressed and ordered continual prayers to be said for him in all the -great temples; and indeed there were more special services and -purification-ceremonies and incantations than I have room to rehearse. -When it became known that this prince so famous for his great charm -and beauty, was likely soon to die, there was a great stir in all the -kingdom. - -Sick though he was he did not forget to send for Ukon and have her -enrolled among his gentlewomen. Koremitsu, who was beside himself with -anxiety concerning his master, yet managed on her arrival to calm -himself and give to Ukon friendly instruction in her new duties; for -he was touched by the helpless plight in which she had been left. And -Genji, whenever he felt a little better, would use her to carry -messages and letters, so that she soon grew used to waiting upon him. -She was dressed in deep black and though not at all handsome was a -pleasant enough looking woman. - -‘It seems that the same fate which so early stayed your lady’s course -has willed that I too should be but little longer for this world. I -know in what sore distress you are left by the loss of one who was for -so many years your mistress and friend; and it was my purpose to have -comforted you in your bereavement by every care and kindness I could -devise. For this reason, indeed, it grieves me that I shall survive -her for so short a time.’ So, somewhat stiltedly, he whispered to -Ukon, and being now very weak he could not refrain from tears. Apart -from the fact that his death would leave her utterly without resource, -she had now quite taken to him and would have been very sorry indeed -if he had died. - -His gentlemen ran hither and thither, distracted; the Emperor’s envoys -thronged thick as the feet of the raindrops. Hearing of his -father’s distress and anxiety, Genji strove hard to reassure him by -pretending to some slight respite or improvement. His father-in-law -too showed great concern, calling every day for news and ordering the -performance of various rites and potent liturgies; and it was perhaps -as a result of this, that having been dangerously ill for more than -twenty days, he took a turn for the better, and soon all his symptoms -began to disappear. On the night of his recovery the term of his -defilement also ended and hearing that the Emperor was still extremely -uneasy about him, he determined to reassure the Court by returning to -his official residence at the Palace. His father-in-law came to fetch -him in his own carriage and rather irritatingly urged upon him all -sorts of remedies and precautions. - -For some while everything in the world to which he had now returned -seemed strange to him and he indeed scarce knew himself; but by the -twentieth day of the ninth month his recovery was complete, nor did -the pallor and thinness of his face become him by any means ill. - -At times he would stare vacantly before him and burst into loud -weeping, and seeing this there were not wanting those who said that he -was surely possessed. - -Often he would send for Ukon, and once when they had been talking in -the still of the evening he said to her ‘There is one thing which -still puzzles me. Why would she never tell me who she was? For even if -she was indeed, as she once said, “a fisherman’s child,” it was a -strange perversity to use such reticence with one who loved her so -well.’ - -‘You ask why she hid her name from you?’ said Ukon. ‘Can you wonder at -it? When could she have been expected to tell you her name (not that -it would have meant much to you if you had heard it)? For from the -beginning you treated her with a strange mistrust, coming with such -secrecy and mystery as might well make her doubt whether you were -indeed a creature of the waking world. But though you never told her -she knew well enough who you were, and the thought that you would not -be thus secret had you regarded her as more than a mere plaything or -idle distraction was very painful to her.’ - -‘What a wretched series of misunderstandings’ said Genji. ‘For my part -I had no mind to put a distance between us. But I had no experience in -such affairs as this. There are many difficulties in the path of such -people as I. First and foremost I feared the anger of my father the -Emperor; and then, the foolish jesting of the world. I felt myself -hedged in by courtly rules and restrictions. But for all the tiresome -concealments that my rank forced upon me, from that first evening I -had so strangely set my heart upon her that though reason counselled -me I could not hold back; and indeed it seems sometimes to me that an -irresistible fate drove me to do the thing of which I now so bitterly -and continually repent. But tell me more about her. For there can now -be no reason for concealment. When on each seventh day I cause the -names of the Buddhas to be written for her comfort and salvation, whom -am I to name in my inward prayer?’ - -‘There can be no harm in my telling you that’ said Ukon, ‘and I should -have done so before, did I not somehow feel it a shame to be prating -to you now about things she would not have me speak of while she was -alive. Her parents died when she was quite small. Her father, Sammi -Chūjō, loved her very dearly, but felt always that he could not give -her all the advantages to which her great beauty entitled her; and -still perplexed about her future and how best to do his duty by her, -he died. Soon afterwards some accident brought her into the company of -Tō no Chūjō[17] who was at that time still a lieutenant and for three -years he made her very happy. But in the autumn of last year -disquieting letters began to arrive from the Great Hall of the -Right,[18] and being by nature prone to fits of unreasoning fear she -now fell into a wild panic and fled to the western part of the town -where she hid herself in the house of her old wet-nurse. Here she was -very uncomfortable, and had planned to move to a certain village in -the hills, when she discovered that it would be unlucky, owing to the -position of the stars since the beginning of the year, to make a -journey in that direction; and (though she never told me so) I think, -Sir, it troubled her sorely that you should have come upon her when -she was living in so wretched a place. But there was never anyone in -the world like my lady for keeping things to herself; she could never -bear that other people should know what was on her mind. I have no -doubt, Sir, that she sometimes behaved very oddly to you and that you -have seen all this for yourself.’ - -Yes, this was all just as Tō no Chūjō had described. ‘I think there -was some mention of a child that Chūjō was vexed to have lost sight -of’ said Genji more interested than ever; ‘am I right?’ ‘Yes, indeed,’ -she answered ‘it was born in the spring of last year, a girl, and a -fine child it was.’ ‘Where is it now?’ asked Genji. ‘Could you get -hold of it and bring it to me here without letting anyone know where -you were taking it? It would be a great comfort to me in my present -misery to have some remembrance of her near me;’ and he added, ‘I -ought of course to tell Chūjō, but that would lead to useless and -painful discussions about what has happened. Somehow or other I will -manage to bring her up here in my palace. I think there can be no harm -in that. And you will easily enough find some story to tell to -whatever people are now looking after her.’ ‘I am very glad that -this has entered your head,’ said Ukon, ‘it would be a poor look-out -for her to grow up in the quarter where she is now living. With no one -properly belonging to her and in such a part of the town....’ - -In the stillness of the evening, under a sky of exquisite beauty, here -and there along the borders in front of his palace some insect croaked -its song; the leaves were just beginning to turn. And as he looked -upon this pleasant picture he felt ashamed at the contrast between his -surroundings and the little house where Yūgao had lived. Suddenly -somewhere among the bamboo groves the bird called iyebato uttered its -sharp note. He remembered just how she had looked when in the gardens -of that fatal house the same bird had startled her by its cry, and -turning to Ukon, ‘How old was she?’ he suddenly asked; ‘for though she -seemed childlike in her diffidence and helplessness, that may only -have been a sign that she was not long for this world.’ ‘She must have -been nineteen’ said Ukon. ‘When my mother, who was her first -wet-nurse, died and left me an orphan, my lady’s father was pleased to -notice me and reared me at my lady’s side. Ah Sir, when I think of it, -I do not know how I shall live without her; for kind as people here -may be I do not seem to get used to them. I suppose it is that I knew -her ways, poor lady, she having been my mistress for so many years.’ - -To Genji even the din of the cloth-beaters’ mallets had become dear -through recollection, and as he lay in bed he repeated those verses of -Po Chü-i. - -_In the eighth month and ninth month when the nights are growing long -A thousand times, ten thousand times the fuller’s stick beats._ - -The young brother still waited upon him, but he no longer brought with -him the letters which he had been used to bring. Utsusemi thought he -had at last decided that her treatment of him was too unfriendly to be -borne, and was vexed that he should feel so. Then suddenly she -heard of his illness, and all her vexation turned to consternation and -anxiety. She was soon to set out upon her long journey, but this did -not much interest her; and to see whether Genji had quite forgotten -her she sent him a message saying that she had been able to find no -words in which to express her grief at hearing the news of his -illness. With it she sent the poem: ‘I did not ask for news and you -did not ask why I was silent; so the days wore on and I remained in -sorrow and dismay.’ He had not forgotten her, no, not in all his -trouble; and his answer came: ‘Of this life, fragile as the -utsusemi’s[19] shell, already I was weary, when your word came, and -gave me strength to live anew.’ The poem was written in a very -tremulous and confused hand; but she thought the writing very -beautiful and it delighted her that he had not forgotten how, -cicada-like, she had shed her scarf. There could be no harm in this -interchange of notes, but she had no intention of arranging a meeting. -She thought that at last even he had seen that there could be no sense -in that. - -As for Utsusemi’s companion, she was not yet married, and Genji heard -that she had become the mistress of Tō no Chūjō’s brother Kurōdo no -Shōshō; and though he feared that Shōshō might already have taken very -ill the discovery that he was not first in the field, and did not at -all wish to offend him, yet he had a certain curiosity about the girl -and sent Utsusemi’s little brother with a message asking if she had -heard of his illness and the poem: ‘Had I not once gathered for my -pillow a handful of the sedge that grows upon the eaves,[20] not a -dewdrop of pretext could my present message find.’ It was an acrostic -with many hidden meanings. He tied the letter to a tall reed and -bade him deliver it secretly; but was afterwards very uneasy at the -thought that it might go astray. ‘If it falls into Shōshō’s hands’ he -thought ‘he will at once guess that it was I who was before him.’ But -after all Shōshō would probably not take that so very hard, Genji had -vanity enough to think. - -The boy delivered the message when Shōshō was at a safe distance. She -could not help feeling a little hurt; but it was something that he had -remembered her at all, and justifying it to herself with the excuse -that she had had no time to do anything better, she sent the boy -straight back with the verse: ‘The faint wind of your favour, that but -for a moment blew, with grief has part befrosted the small sedge of -the eaves.’ It was very ill-written, with all sorts of ornamental but -misleading strokes and flourishes; indeed with a complete lack of -style. However, it served to remind him of the face he had first seen -that evening by the lamplight. As for the other who on that occasion -had sat so stiffly facing her, what determination there had been in -her face, what a steady resolution to give no quarter! - -The affair with the lady of the sedge was so unintentional and so -insignificant that though he regarded it as rather frivolous and -indiscreet, he saw no great harm in it. But if he did not take himself -in hand before it was too late he would soon again be involved in some -entanglement which might finally ruin his reputation. - -On the forty-ninth day after Yūgao’s death a service in her memory was -by his orders secretly held in the Hokedō on Mount Hiyei. The ritual -performed was of the most elaborate kind, everything that was required -being supplied from the Prince’s own store; and even the decoration of -the service books and images was carried out with the utmost -attention. Koremitsu’s brother, a man of great piety, was -entrusted with the direction of the ceremony, and all went well. Next -Genji sent for his old writing-master, a doctor of letters for whom he -had a great liking and bade him write the prayer for the dead.[21] -‘Say that I commit to Amida the Buddha one not named whom I loved, but -lost disastrously,’ and he wrote out a rough draft for the learned man -to amend. ‘There is nothing to add or alter,’ said the master, deeply -moved. Who could it be, he wondered, at whose death the prince was so -distressed? (For Genji, try as he might, could not hide his tears.) - -When he was secretly looking through his store for largesse to give to -the Hokedō priests, he came upon a certain dress and as he folded it -made the poem: ‘The girdle that to-day with tears I knot, shall we -ever in some new life untie?’ - -Till now her spirit had wandered in the void.[22] - -But already she must be setting out on her new life-path, and in great -solicitude, he prayed continually for her safety. - -He met Tō no Chūjō and his heart beat violently, for he had longed to -tell him about Yūgao’s child and how it was to be reared. But he -feared that the rest of the story would needlessly anger and distress -him, and he did not mention the matter. Meanwhile the servants of -Yūgao’s house were surprised that they had had no news from her nor -even from Ukon, and had begun to be seriously disquieted. They had -still no proof that it was Genji who was her lover, but several of -them thought that they had recognized him and his name was whispered -among them. They would have it that Koremitsu knew the secret, but he -pretended to know nothing whatever about Yūgao’s lover and found a -way to put off all their questions; and as he was still frequenting -the house for his own purposes, it was easy for them to believe that -he was not really concerned in their mistress’s affairs. Perhaps after -all it was some blackguard of a Zuryō’s son who, frightened of Tō no -Chūjō’s interference, had carried her off to his province. The real -owner of the house was a daughter of Yūgao’s second wet-nurse, who had -three children of her own. Ukon had been brought up with them, but -they thought that it was perhaps because she was not their own sister -that Ukon sent them no news of their mistress, and they were in great -distress. - -Ukon who knew that they would assail her with questions which her -promise to Genji forbade her to answer, dared not go to the house, not -even to get news of her lady’s child. It had been put out somewhere to -nurse, but to her great sorrow she had quite lost sight of it. - -Longing all the while to see her face once more though only in a -dream, upon the night after the ceremony on Mount Hiyei, he had a -vision very different from that for which he prayed. There appeared to -him once more, just as on that fatal night, the figure of a woman in -menacing posture, and he was dismayed at the thought that some demon -which haunted the desolate spot might on the occasion when it did that -terrible thing, also have entered into him and possessed him. - -Iyo no Suke was to start early in the Godless Month and had announced -that his wife would go with him. Genji sent very handsome parting -presents and among them with special intent he put many very exquisite -combs and fans. With them were silk strips to offer to the God of -Journeys and, above all, the scarf which she had dropped, and, tied to -it, a poem in which he said that he had kept it in remembrance of her -while there was still hope of their meeting, but now returned it wet -with tears shed in vain. There was a long letter with the poem, -but this was of no particular interest and is here omitted. She sent -no answer by the man who had brought the presents, but gave her -brother the poem: ‘That to the changed cicada you should return her -summer dress shows that you too have changed and fills an insect heart -with woe.’ - -He thought long about her. Though she had with so strange and -inexplicable a resolution steeled her heart against him to the end, -yet each time he remembered that she had gone forever it filled him -with depression. - -It was the first day of the tenth month, and as though in sign that -winter had indeed begun heavy rain fell. All day long Genji watched -the stormy sky. Autumn had hideously bereaved him and winter already -was taking from him one whom he dearly loved: - - Now like a traveller who has tried two ways in vain - I stand perplexed where these sad seasons meet. - -Now at least we must suppose he was convinced that such secret -adventures led only to misery. - -I should indeed be very loth to recount in all their detail matters -which he took so much trouble to conceal, did I not know that if you -found I had omitted anything you would at once ask why, just because -he was supposed to be an Emperor’s son, I must needs put a favourable -showing on his conduct by leaving out all his indiscretions; and you -would soon be saying that this was no history but a mere made-up tale -designed to influence the judgment of posterity. As it is I shall be -called a scandal-monger; but that I cannot help. - -[1] Lady Rokujō. Who she was gradually becomes apparent in the course -of the story. - -[2] Lady Rokujō’s house. - -[3] Rokujō. - -[4] Genji was now seventeen; Rokujō twenty-four. - -[5] The god of bridges. He built in a single night the stone causeway -which joins Mount Katsuragi and Mount Kombu. - -[6] Genji’s brother-in-law. - -[7] His own palace. - -[8] Foxes, dressed up as men, were believed to be in the habit of -seducing and bewitching human beings. - -[9] We gather later that she was only nineteen. - -[10] I.e. covered part of his face with a scarf or the like, a -practice usual with illicit lovers in mediæval Japan. - -[11] _Shin Kokinshū_, 1701. - -[12] Lady Rokujō. - -[13] To summon a servant. - -[14] The bringing of a corpse. Temples were used as mortuaries. - -[15] I.e. pursued illicit amours. - -[16] Pilgrimages to Kiyomizu Temple are made on the seventeenth day. - -[17] Chūjō means ‘Captain’; see above, p. 71. - -[18] From Tō no Chūjō’s wife, who was the daughter of the Minister of -the Right. - -[19] Cicada. - -[20] ‘Sedge upon the eaves ‘is _Nokiba no Ogi_, and it is by this name -that the lady is generally known. - -[21] _Gwammon_. - -[22] For forty-nine days the spirit of the dead leads the intermediate -existence so strangely described in the _Abhidharma Kośa Śāstra_; then -it begins its new incarnation. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - MURASAKI - - -He fell sick of an ague, and when numerous charms and spells had been -tried in vain, the illness many times returning, someone said that in -a certain temple on the Northern Hills there lived a wise and holy man -who in the summer of the year before (the ague was then rife and the -usual spells were giving no relief) was able to work many signal -cures: ‘Lose no time in consulting him, for while you try one useless -means after another the disease gains greater hold upon you.’ At once -he sent a messenger to fetch the holy man, who however replied that -the infirmities of old age no longer permitted him to go abroad. ‘What -is to be done?’ said Genji; ‘I must go secretly to visit him’; and -taking only four or five trusted servants he set out long before dawn. -The place lay somewhat deep into the hills. It was the last day of the -third month and in the Capital the blossoms had all fallen. The -hill-cherry was not yet out; but as he approached the open country, -the mists began to assume strange and lovely forms, which pleased him -the more because, being one whose movements were tethered by many -proprieties, he had seldom seen such sights before. The temples too -delighted him. The holy man lived in a deep cave hollowed out of a -high wall of rock. Genji did not send in his name and was in close -disguise, but his face was well known and the priest at once -recognized him. - -‘Forgive me’ he said; ‘it was you, was it not, who sent for me the -other day? Alas, I think no longer of the things of this world and I -am afraid I have forgotten how to work my cures. I am very sorry -indeed that you have come so far,’ and pretending to be very much -upset, he looked at Genji, laughing. But it was soon apparent that he -was a man of very great piety and learning. He wrote out certain -talismans and administered them, and read certain spells. By the time -this was over, the sun had risen, and Genji went a little way outside -the cave and looked around him. From the high ground where he was -standing he looked down on a number of scattered hermitages. A winding -track led down to a hut which, though it was hedged with the same -small brushwood as the rest, was more spaciously planned, having a -pleasant roofed alley running out from it, and there were trim copses -set around. He asked whose house it was and was told by one of his men -that a certain abbot had been living there in retirement for two -years. ‘I know him well’ said Genji on hearing the abbot’s name; ‘I -should not like to meet him dressed and attended as I am. I hope he -will not hear....’ Just then a party of nicely dressed children came -out of the house and began to pluck such flowers as are used for the -decoration of altars and holy images. ‘There are some girls with them’ -said one of Genji’s men. ‘We cannot suppose that His Reverence keeps -them. Who then can they be?’ and to satisfy his curiosity he went a -little way down the hill and watched them. ‘Yes, there are some very -pretty girls, some of them grown up and others quite children,’ he -came back and reported. - -During a great part of the morning Genji was busy with his cure. When -at last the ceremony was completed his attendants, dreading the hour -at which the fever usually returned, strove to distract his -attention by taking him a little way across the mountain to a point -from which the Capital could be seen. ‘How lovely’ cried Genji ‘are -those distances half lost in haze, and that blur of shimmering woods -that stretches out on every side. How could anyone be unhappy for a -single instant who lived in such a place?’ ‘This is nothing,’ said one -of his men. ‘If I could but show you the lakes and mountains of other -provinces, you would soon see how far they excel all that you here -admire’; and he began to tell him first of Mount Fuji and many another -famous peak, and then of the West Country with all its pleasant bays -and shores, till he quite forgot that it was the hour of his fever. -‘Yonder, nearest to us’ the man continued, pointing to the sea ‘is the -bay of Akashi in Harima. Note it well; for though it is not a very -out-of-the-way place, yet the feeling one has there of being shut off -from everything save one huge waste of sea makes it the strangest and -most desolate spot I know. And there it is that the daughter of a lay -priest who was once governor of the province presides over a mansion -of quite disproportionate and unexpected magnificence. He is the -descendant of a Prime Minister and was expected to cut a great figure -in the world. But he is a man of very singular disposition and is -averse to all society. For a time he was an officer in the Palace -Guard, but he gave this up and accepted the province of Harima. -However he soon quarrelled with the local people and, announcing that -he had been badly treated and was going back to the Capital, he did -nothing of the sort, but shaved his head and became a lay priest. Then -instead of settling, as is usually done, on some secluded hillside, he -built himself a house on the seashore, which may seem to you a very -strange thing to do; but as a matter of fact, whereas in that province -in one place or another a good many recluses have taken up their -abode, the mountain-country is far more dull and lonely and would -sorely have tried the patience of his young wife and child; and so as -a compromise he chose the seashore. Once when I was travelling in the -province of Harima I took occasion to visit his house and noted that, -though at the Capital he had lived in a very modest style, here he had -built on the most magnificent and lavish scale; as though determined -in spite of what had happened (now that he was free from the bother of -governing the province) to spend the rest of his days in the greatest -comfort imaginable. But all the while he was making great preparations -for the life to come and no ordained priest could have led a more -austere and pious life.’ - -‘But you spoke of his daughter?’ said Genji. ‘She is passably -good-looking,’ he answered, ‘and not by any means stupid. Several -governors and officers of the province have set their hearts upon her -and pressed their suit most urgently; but her father has sent them all -away. It seems that though in his own person so indifferent to worldly -glory, he is determined that this one child, his only object of care, -should make amends for his obscurity, and has sworn that if ever she -chooses against his will, and when he is gone flouts his set purpose -and injunction to satisfy some idle fancy of her own, his ghost will -rise and call upon the sea to cover her.’ - -Genji listened with great attention. ‘Why, she is like the vestal -virgin who may know no husband but the King-Dragon of the Sea,’ and -they laughed at the old ex-Governor’s absurd ambitions. The teller of -the story was a son of the present Governor of Harima, who from being -a clerk in the Treasury had last year been capped an officer of the -Fifth Rank. He was famous for his love-adventures and the others -whispered to one another that it was with every intention of -persuading the lady to disobey her father’s injunctions that he had -gone out of his way to visit the shore of Akashi. - -‘I fear her breeding must be somewhat countrified,’ said one; ‘it -cannot well be otherwise, seeing that she has grown up with no other -company than that of her old-fashioned parents,—though indeed it -appears that her mother was a person of some consequence.’ ‘Why, yes’ -said Yoshikiyo, the Governor’s son, ‘and for this reason she was able -to secure little girls and boys from all the best houses in the -Capital, persuading them to pay visits to the sea-side and be -playmates to her own little girl, who thus acquired the most polished -breeding.’ ‘If an unscrupulous person were to find himself in that -quarter,’ said another, ‘I fear that despite the dead father’s curse -he might not find it easy to resist her.’ - -The story made a deep impression upon Genji’s imagination. As his -gentlemen well knew, whatever was fantastic or grotesque both in -people and situations at once strongly attracted him. They were -therefore not surprised to see him listen with so much attention. ‘It -is now well past noon,’ said one of them, ‘and I think we may reckon -that you will get safely through the day without a return of your -complaint. So let us soon be starting for home.’ But the priest -persuaded him to stay a little longer: ‘The sinister influences are -not yet wholly banished,’ he said; ‘it would be well that a further -ritual should continue quietly during the night. By to-morrow morning, -I think you will be able to proceed.’ His gentlemen all urged him to -stay; nor was he at all unwilling, for the novelty of such a lodging -amused him. ‘Very well then, at dawn’ he said, and having nothing to -do till bed-time which was still a long way off, he went out on to the -hill-side, and under cover of the heavy evening mist loitered near the -brushwood hedge. His attendants had gone back to the hermit’s -cave and only Koremitsu was with him. In the western wing, opposite -which he was standing, was a nun at her devotions. The blind was -partly raised. He thought she seemed to be dedicating flowers to an -image. Sitting near the middle pillar, a sutra-book propped upon a -stool by her side, was another nun. She was reading aloud; there was a -look of great unhappiness in her face. She seemed to be about forty; -not a woman of the common people. Her skin was white and very fine, -and though she was much emaciated, there was a certain roundness and -fulness in her cheeks, and her hair, clipped short on a level with her -eyes, hung in so delicate a fringe across her brow that she looked, -thought Genji, more elegant and even fashionable in this convent -guise, than if her hair had been long. Two very well-conditioned maids -waited upon her. Several little girls came running in and out of the -room at play. Among them was one who seemed to be about ten years old. -She came running into the room dressed in a rather worn white frock -lined with stuff of a deep saffron colour. Never had he seen a child -like this. What an astonishing creature she would grow into! Her hair, -thick and wavy, stood out fan-wise about her head. She was very -flushed and her lips were trembling. ‘What is it? Have you quarrelled -with one of the other little girls?’ The nun raised her head as she -spoke and Genji fancied that there was some resemblance between her -and the child. No doubt she was its mother. ‘Inu has let out my -sparrow—the little one that I kept in the clothes-basket,’ she said, -looking very unhappy. ‘What a tiresome boy that Inu is!’ said one of -the two maids. ‘He deserves a good scolding for playing such a stupid -trick. Where can it have got to? And this after we had taken so much -trouble to tame it nicely! I only hope the crows have not found -it,’ and so saying she left the room. She was a pleasant-looking -woman, with very long, wavy hair. The others called her Nurse -Shōnagon, and she seemed to be in charge of the child. ‘Come,’ said -the nun to the little girl, ‘you must not be such a baby. You are -thinking all the time of things that do not matter at all. Just fancy! -Even now when I am so ill that any day I may be taken from you, you do -not trouble your head about me, but are grieving about a sparrow. It -is very unkind, particularly as I have told you I don’t know how many -times that it is naughty to shut up live things in cages. Come over -here!’ and the child sat down beside her. Her features were very -exquisite; but it was above all the way her hair grew, in cloudy -masses over her temples, but thrust back in childish fashion from her -forehead, that struck him as marvellously beautiful. As he watched her -and wondered what she would be like when she grew up it suddenly -occurred to him that she bore no small resemblance to one whom he had -loved with all his being,[1] and at the resemblance he secretly wept. - -The nun, stroking the child’s hair, now said to her: ‘It’s a lovely -mop, though you _are_ so naughty about having it combed. But it -worries me very much that you are still so babyish. Some children of -your age are very different. Your dear mother was only twelve when her -father died; yet she showed herself quite capable of managing her own -affairs. But if I were taken from you now, I do not know what would -become of you, I do not indeed,’ and she began to weep. Even Genji, -peeping at the scene from a distance, found himself becoming quite -distressed. The girl, who had been watching the nun’s face with a -strange unchildish intensity, now dropped her head disconsolately, and -as she did so her hair fell forward across her cheeks in two -great waves of black. Looking at her fondly the nun recited the poem: -‘Not knowing if any will come to nurture the tender leaf whereon it -lies, how loath is the dewdrop to vanish in the sunny air.’ To which -the waiting-woman replied with a sigh: ‘O dewdrop, surely you will -linger till the young budding leaf has shown in what fair form it -means to grow.’ - -At this moment the priest to whom the house belonged entered the room -from the other side: ‘Pray, ladies,’ he said, ‘are you not unduly -exposing yourselves? You have chosen a bad day to take up your stand -so close to the window. I have just heard that Prince Genji has come -to the hermit yonder to be cured of an ague. But he has disguised -himself in so mean a habit that I did not know him, and have been so -near all day without going to pay my respects to him.’ The nun started -back in horror; ‘How distressing! He may even have passed and seen -us ...’ and she hastened to let down the folding blind. ‘I am really -very glad that I am to have an opportunity of visiting this Prince -Genji of whom one hears so much. He is said to be so handsome that even -austere old priests like myself forget in his presence the sins and -sorrows of the life they have discarded and take heart to live a little -longer in a world where so much beauty dwells. But you shall hear all -about it....’ - -Before the old priest had time to leave the house Genji was on his way -back to the hermit’s cave. What an enchanting creature he had -discovered! How right too his friends had been on that rainy night -when they told him that on strange excursions such as this beauty -might well be found lurking in unexpected quarters! How delightful to -have strolled out by chance and at once made so astonishing a find! -Whose could this exquisite child be? He would dearly love to have her -always near him, to be able to turn to her at any moment for -comfort and distraction, as once he had turned to the lady in the -Palace. - -He was already lying down in the hermit’s cave when (everything being -at very close quarters) he heard the voice of the old priest’s -disciple calling for Koremitsu. ‘My master has just learnt’ said this -disciple, ‘that you were lodged so near at hand; and though it grieves -him that you did not in passing honour him with a visit, he would at -once have paid his respects to the Prince, had he not thought that -Lord Genji could not be unaware of his presence in the neighbourhood -of this hermitage, and might perhaps have refrained from visiting him -only because he did not wish to disclose the motive of his present -pilgrimage. But my master would remind you’ continued the man, ‘that -we too in our poor hut could provide you with straw beds to lie on, -and should be sorry if you left without honouring us....’ - -‘For ten days,’ answered Genji from within, ‘I have been suffering -from an ague which returned so constantly that I was in despair, when -someone advised me to consult the hermit of this mountain, whom I -accordingly visited. But thinking that it would be very disagreeable -for a sage of his repute if in such a case as mine it became known -that his treatment had been unsuccessful, I was at greater pains to -conceal myself than I should have been if visiting an ordinary -wonder-worker. Pray ask your master to accept this excuse and bid him -enter the cave.’ Thus encouraged, the priest presented himself. Genji -was rather afraid of him, for though an ecclesiastic he was a man of -superior genius, very much respected in the secular world, and Genji -felt that it was not at all proper to receive him in the shabby old -clothes which he had used for his disguise. After giving some details -of his life since he had left the Capital and come to live in -retirement on this mountain, the priest begged Genji to come back -with him and visit the cold spring which flowed in the garden of his -hut. Here was an opportunity to see again the people who had so much -interested him. But the thought of all the stories that the old priest -might have told them about him made him feel rather uncomfortable. -What matter? At all costs he must see that lovely child again and he -followed the old priest back to his hut. In the garden the natural -vegetation of the hill-side had been turned to skilful use. There was -no moon, and torches had been lit along the sides of the moat, while -fairy lanterns hung on the trees. The front parlour was very nicely -arranged. A heavy perfume of costly and exotic scents stole from -hidden incense-burners and filled the room with a delicious fragrance. -These perfumes were quite unfamiliar to Genji and he supposed that -they must have been prepared by the ladies of the inner room, who -would seem to have spent considerable ingenuity in the task. - -The priest began to tell stories about the uncertainty of this life -and the retributions of the life to come. Genji was appalled to think -how heavy his own sins had already been. It was bad enough to think -that he would have them on his conscience for the rest of his present -life. But then there was also the life to come. What terrible -punishments he had to look forward to! And all the while the priest -was speaking Genji thought of his own wickedness. What a good idea it -would be to turn hermit and live in some such place.... But -immediately his thoughts strayed to the lovely face which he had seen -that afternoon and longing to know more of her ‘Who lives with you -here?’ he asked. ‘It interests me to know, because I once saw this -place in a dream and was astonished to recognize it when I came here -to-day.’ At this the priest laughed: ‘Your dream seems to have come -rather suddenly into the conversation,’ he said, ‘but I fear that -if you pursue your enquiry, your expectations will be sadly -disappointed. You have probably never heard of Azechi no Dainagon, he -died so long ago. He married my sister, who after his death turned her -back upon the world. Just at that time I myself was in certain -difficulties and was unable to visit the Capital; so for company she -came to join me here in my retreat.’ - -‘I have heard that Aseji no Dainagon had a daughter. Is that so?’ said -Genji at a venture; ‘I am sure you will not think I ask the question -with any indiscreet intention....’ ‘He had an only daughter who died -about ten years ago. Her father had always wanted to present her at -Court. But she would not listen, and when he was dead and there was -only my sister the nun to look after her, she allowed some wretched -go-between to introduce her to Prince Hyōbukyō whose mistress she -became. His wife, a proud, relentless woman, from the first pursued -her with constant vexations and affronts; day in and day out this -obstinate persecution continued, till at last she died of heartbreak. -They say that unkindness cannot kill; but I shall never say so, for -from this cause alone I saw my kinswoman fall sick and perish.’ - -‘Then the little girl must be this lady’s child,’ Genji realized at -last. And that accounted for her resemblance to the lady in the -Palace.[2] He felt more drawn towards her than ever. She was of good -lineage, which is never amiss; and her rather rustic simplicity would -be an actual advantage when she became his pupil, as he was now -determined she should; for it would make it the easier for him to -mould her unformed tastes to the pattern of his own. ‘And did the lady -whose sad story you have told me leave no remembrance behind her?’ -asked Genji, still hoping to turn the conversation on to the -child herself. ‘She died only a short while after her child was born, -and it too was a girl. The charge of it fell to my sister who is in -failing health and feels herself by no means equal to such a -responsibility.’ All was now clear. ‘You will think it a very strange -proposal,’ said Genji, ‘but I feel that I should like to adopt this -child. Perhaps you would mention this to your sister? Though others -early involved me in marriage, their choice proved distasteful to me -and having, as it seems, very little relish for society, I now live -entirely alone. She is, I quite realize, a mere child, and I am not -proposing....’ Here he paused and the priest answered: ‘I am very much -obliged to you for this offer; but I am afraid it is clear that you do -_not_ at all realize that the child in question is a mere infant. You -would not even find her amusing as a casual distraction. But it is -true that a girl as she grows up needs the backing of powerful friends -if she is to make her way in the world, and though I cannot promise -you that anything will come of it, I ought certainly to mention the -matter to her grandmother.’ His manner had suddenly become somewhat -cool and severe. Genji felt that he had been indiscreet and preserved -an embarrassed silence. ‘There is something which I ought to be doing -in the Hall of Our Lord Amida,’ the priest presently continued, ‘so I -must take leave of you for a while. I must also read my vespers; but I -will rejoin you afterwards,’ and he set out to climb the hill. Genji -felt very disconsolate. It had begun to rain; a cold wind blew across -the hill, carrying with it the sound of a waterfall,—audible till then -as a gentle intermittent plashing, but now a mighty roar; and with it, -somnolently rising and falling, mingled the monotonous chanting of the -scriptures. Even the most unimpressionable nature would have been -plunged into melancholy by such surroundings. How much the more so -Prince Genji, as he lay sleepless on his bed, continually -planning and counter-planning! The priest had spoken of ‘vespers,’ but -the hour was indeed very late. It was clear however that the nun was -still awake, for though she was making as little noise as possible, -every now and then her rosary would knock with a faint click against -the praying-stool. There was something alluring in the sound of this -low, delicate tapping. It seemed to come from quite close. He opened a -small space between the screens which divided the living-room from the -inner chamber and rustled his fan. He had the impression that someone -in the inner room after a little hesitation had come towards the -screen as though saying to herself ‘It cannot be so, yet I could have -sworn I heard ...,’ and then retreated a little, as though thinking -‘Well, it was only my fancy after all!’ Now she seemed to be feeling -her way in the dark, and Genji said aloud ‘Follow the Lord Buddha and -though your way lie in darkness yet shall you not go astray.’ Suddenly -hearing his clear young voice in the darkness, the woman had not at -first the courage to reply. But at last she managed to answer: ‘In -which direction, please, is He leading me? I am afraid I do not quite -understand.’ ‘I am sorry to have startled you,’ said Genji. ‘I have -only this small request to make: that you will carry to your mistress -the following poem: ‘Since first he saw the green leaf of the tender -bush, never for a moment has the dew of longing dried from the -traveller’s sleeve.’ ‘Surely you must know that there is no one here -who understands messages of that kind,’ said the woman; ‘I wonder whom -you mean?’ ‘I have a particular reason for wishing your mistress to -receive the message,’ said Genji, ‘and I should be obliged if you -would contrive to deliver it.’ The nun at once perceived that the poem -referred to her grandchild and supposed that Genji, having been -wrongly informed about her age, was intending to make love to -her. But how had he discovered her grand-daughter’s existence? For -some while she pondered in great annoyance and perplexity, and at last -answered prudently with a poem in which she said that ‘he who was but -spending a night upon a traveller’s dewy bed could know little of -those whose home was forever upon the cold moss of the hill-side.’ -Thus she turned his poem to a harmless meaning. ‘Tell her,’ said Genji -when the message was brought back, ‘that I am not accustomed to carry -on conversations in this indirect manner. However shy she may be, I -must ask her on this occasion to dispense with formalities and discuss -this matter with me seriously!’ ‘How can he have been thus -misinformed?’ said the nun, still thinking that Genji imagined her -grand-daughter to be a grown-up woman. She was terrified at being -suddenly commanded to appear before this illustrious personage and was -wondering what excuse she would make. Her maids, however, were -convinced that Genji would be grievously offended if she did not -appear, and at last, coming out from the women’s chamber, she said to -him: ‘Though I am no longer a young woman, I very much doubt whether I -ought to come like this. But since you sent word that you have serious -business to discuss with me, I could not refuse....’ ‘Perhaps’ said -Genji, ‘you will think my proposal both ill-timed and frivolous. I can -only assure you that I mean it very seriously. Let Buddha judge....’ -But here he broke off, intimidated by her age and gravity. ‘You have -certainly chosen a very strange manner of communicating this proposal -to me. But though you have not yet said what it is, I am sure you are -quite in earnest about it.’ Thus encouraged, Genji continued: ‘I was -deeply touched by the story of your long widowhood and of your -daughter’s death. I too, like this poor child, was deprived in earliest -infancy of the one being who tenderly loved me, and in my -childhood suffered long years of loneliness and misery. Thus we are -both in like case, and this has given me so deep a sympathy for the -child that I long to make amends for what she has lost. It was, then, -to ask if you would consent to let me play a mother’s part that at -this strange and inconvenient hour I trespassed so inconsiderately -upon your patience.’ ‘I am sure that you are meaning to be very kind,’ -said the nun, ‘but—forgive me—you have evidently been misinformed. -There is indeed a girl living here under my charge; but she is a mere -infant and could not be of the slightest interest to you in any way, -so that I cannot consent to your proposal.’ ‘On the contrary,’ said -Genji, ‘I am perfectly conversant with every detail concerning this -child; but if you think my sympathy for her exaggerated or misplaced, -pray pardon me for having mentioned it.’ It was evident that he did -not in the least realize the absurdity of what he had proposed, and -she saw no use in explaining herself any further. The priest was now -returning and Genji, saying that he had not expected she would at once -fall in with his idea and was confident that she would soon see the -matter in a different light, closed the screen behind her. - -The night was almost over. In a chapel near by, the Four Meditations -of the Law Flower were being practised. The voices of the ministrants -who were now chanting the Litany of Atonement came floating on the -gusty mountain-wind, and with this solemn sound was mingled the roar -of hurrying waters. ‘Startled from my dream by a wandering gust of -the mountain gale, I heard the waterfall, and at the beauty of its -music wept.’ So Genji greeted the priest; and he in turn replied with -the poem ‘At the noise of a torrent wherein I daily fill my bowl I am -scarce likely to start back in wonder and delight.’ ‘I get so used to -it,’ he added apologetically. A heavy mist covered the morning -sky, and even the chirruping of the mountain-birds sounded muffled and -dim. Such a variety of flowers and blossoming trees (he did not know -their names) grew upon the hill-side, that the rocks seemed to be -spread with a many-coloured embroidery. Above all he marvelled at the -exquisite stepping of the deer who moved across the slope, now -treading daintily, now suddenly pausing; and as he watched them the -last remnants of his sickness were dispelled by sheer delight. Though -the hermit had little use of his limbs, he managed by hook or crook to -perform the mystic motions of the Guardian Spell,[3] and though his -aged voice was husky and faltering, he read the sacred text with great -dignity and fervour. Several of Genji’s friends now arrived to -congratulate him upon his recovery, among them a messenger from the -Palace. The priest from the hut below brought a present of -strange-looking roots for which he had gone deep into the ravine. He -begged to be excused from accompanying Genji on his way. ‘Till the end -of the year,’ he said, ‘I am bound by a vow which must deprive me of -what would have been a great pleasure,’ and he handed Genji the -stirrup-cup. ‘Were I but able to follow my own desires,’ said Genji -taking the cup, ‘I would not leave these hills and streams. But I hear -that my father the Emperor is making anxious enquiry after me. I will -come back before the blossom is over.’ And he recited the verse ‘I -will go back to the men of the City and tell them to come -quickly, lest the wild wind outstripping them should toss these -blossoms from the cherry bough.’ The old priest, flattered by Genji’s -politeness and captivated by the charm of his voice, answered with the -poem: ‘Like one who finds the aloe-tree in bloom, to the flower of the -mountain-cherry I no longer turn my gaze.’ ‘I am not after all quite -so great a rarity as the aloe-flower,’ said Genji smiling. - -Next the hermit handed him a parting-cup, with the poem ‘Though seldom -I open the pine-tree door of my mountain-cell, yet have I now seen -face to face the flower few live to see,’ and as he looked up at -Genji, his eyes filled with tears. He gave him, to keep him safe in -future from all harm, a magical wand; and seeing this the nun’s -brother in his turn presented a rosary brought back from Korea by -Prince Shōtoku. It was ornamented with jade and was still in the same -Chinese-looking box in which it had been brought from that country. -The box was in an open-work bag, and a five-leafed pine-branch was -with it. He also gave him some little vases of blue crystal to keep -his medicines in, with sprays of cherry-blossom and wistaria along -with them, and such other presents as the place could supply. Genji -had sent to the Capital for gifts with which to repay his reception in -the mountain. First he gave a reward to the hermit, then distributed -alms to the priests who had chanted liturgies on his behalf, and -finally he gave useful presents to the poor villagers of the -neighbourhood. While he was reading a short passage from the -scriptures in preparation for his departure, the old priest went into -his house and asked his sister the nun whether she had any message for -the Prince. ‘It is very hard to say anything at present,’ she said. -‘Perhaps if he still felt the same inclination four, or five years -hence, we might begin to consider it.’ ‘That is just what I -think,’ said the priest. - -Genji saw to his regret that he had made no progress whatever. In -answer to the nun’s message he sent a small boy who belonged to the -priest’s household with the following poem: ‘Last night indeed, though -in the greyness of twilight only, I saw the lovely flower. But to-day -a hateful mist has hidden it utterly from my sight.’ The nun replied: -‘That I may know whether indeed it pains you so deeply to leave this -flower, I shall watch intently the motions of this hazy sky.’ It was -written in a noteworthy and very aristocratic hand, but quite without -the graces of deliberate artistry. While his carriage was being got -ready, a great company of young lords arrived from the Great Hall, -saying that they had been hard put to it to discover what had become -of him and now desired to give him their escort. Among them were Tō no -Chūjō, Sachū Ben, and other lesser lords, who had come out of -affection for the Prince. ‘We like nothing better than waiting upon -you,’ they said, rather aggrieved, ‘it was not kind of you to leave us -behind.’ ‘But having come so far,’ said another, ‘it would be a pity -to go away without resting for a while under the shadow of these -flowering trees’; whereupon they all sat down in a row upon the moss -under a tall rock and passed a rough earthenware wine-jar from hand to -hand. Close by them the stream leaped over the rocks in a magnificent -cascade. Tō no Chūjō pulled out a flute from the folds of his dress -and played a few trills upon it. Sachū Ben, tapping idly with his fan, -began to sing ‘The Temple of Toyora.’ The young lords who had come to -fetch him were all persons of great distinction; but so striking was -Genji’s appearance as he sat leaning disconsolately against the rock -that no eye was likely to be turned in any other direction. One of his -attendants now performed upon the reed-pipe; someone else turned -out to be a skilful _shō_[4] player. Presently the old priest came out -of his house carrying a zithern, and putting it into Genji’s hands -begged him to play something, ‘that the birds of the mountain may -rejoice.’ He protested that he was not feeling at all in the mood to -play; but yielding to the priest’s persuasion, he gave what was really -not at all a contemptible performance. After that, they all got up and -started for home. Everyone on the mountain, down to the humblest -priest and youngest neophyte, was bitterly disappointed at the -shortness of his stay, and there were many tears shed; while the old -nun within doors was sorry to think that she had had but that one -brief glimpse of him and might never see him again. The priest -declared that for his part he thought the Land of the Rising Sun in -her last degenerate days ill-deserved that such a Prince should be -born to her, and he wiped his eyes. The little girl too was very much -pleased with him and said he was a prettier gentleman than her own -father. ‘If you think so, you had better become his little girl -instead,’ said her nurse. At which the child nodded, thinking that it -would be a very good plan indeed; and in future the best-dressed -person in the pictures she painted was called ‘Prince Genji’ and so -was her handsomest doll. - -On his return to the Capital he went straight to the Palace and -described to his father the experiences of the last two days. The -Emperor thought him looking very haggard and was much concerned. He -asked many questions about the hermit’s magical powers, to all of -which Genji replied in great detail. ‘He ought certainly to have been -made Master Magician long ago,’ said His Majesty. ‘His ministrations -have repeatedly been attended with great success, but for some reason -his services have escaped public acknowledgment,’ and he issued a -proclamation to this effect. The Minister of the Left came to meet him -on his way from the Presence and apologized for not having come with -his sons to bring him back from the mountain. ‘I thought,’ he said, -‘that as you had gone there secretly, you would dislike being fetched; -but I very much hope that you will now come and spend a few days with -us quietly; after which I shall esteem it a privilege to escort you to -your palace.’ He did not in the least want to go, but there was no -escape. His father-in-law drove him to the Great Hall in his own -carriage, and when the bullocks had been unyoked dragged it in at the -gate with his own hands. Such treatment was certainly meant to be very -friendly; but Genji found the Minister’s attentions merely irritating. - -Aoi’s quarters had, in anticipation of Genji’s coming, just been put -thoroughly to rights. In the long interval since he last visited her -many changes had been made; among other improvements, a handsome -terrace had been built. Not a thing was out of its right place in this -supremely well-ordered house. Aoi, as usual, was nowhere to be seen. -It was only after repeated entreaties by her father that she at last -consented to appear in her husband’s presence. Posed like a princess -in a picture she sat almost motionless. Beautiful she certainly was. -‘I should like to tell you about my visit to the mountain, if only I -thought that it would interest you at all or draw an answer from you. -I hate to go on always like this. Why are you so cold and distant and -proud? Year after year we fail to reach an understanding and you cut -yourself off from me more completely than before. Can we not manage -for a little while to be on ordinary terms? It seems rather strange, -considering how ill I have been, that you should not attempt to -enquire after my health. Or rather, it is exactly what I should -expect; but nevertheless I find it extremely painful.’ ‘Yes,’ -said Aoi, ‘it is extremely painful when people do not care what -becomes of one.’ She glanced back over her shoulder as she spoke, her -face full of scorn and pride, looking uncommonly handsome as she did -so. ‘You hardly ever speak,’ said Genji, ‘and when you do, it is only -to say unkind things and twist one’s harmless words so that they seem -to be insults. And when I try to find some way of helping you for a -while at least to be a little less disagreeable, you become more -hopelessly unapproachable than ever. Shall I one day succeed in making -you understand...?’ and so saying he went into their bedroom. She did -not follow him. He lay for a while in a state of great annoyance and -distress. But, probably because he did not really care about her very -much one way or the other, he soon became drowsy and all sorts of -quite different matters drifted through his head. He wanted as much as -ever to have the little girl in his keeping and watch her grow to -womanhood. But the grandmother was right; the child was too absurdly -young, and it would be very difficult to broach the matter again. -Would it not however be possible to contrive that she should be -brought to the Capital? It would be easy then to find excuses for -fetching her and she might, even through some such arrangement as -that, become a source of constant delight to him. The father, Prince -Hyōbukyō, was of course a man of very distinguished manners; but he -was not at all handsome. How was it that the child resembled one of -her aunts and was so unlike all the rest? He had an idea that -Fujitsubo and Prince Hyōbukyō were children of the same mother, while -the others were only half-sisters. The fact that the little girl was -closely related to the lady whom he had loved for so long made him all -the more set upon securing her, and he began again to puzzle his head -for some means of bringing this about. - -Next day he wrote his letter of thanks to the priest. No doubt it -contained some allusion to his project. To the nun he wrote: ‘Seeing -you so resolutely averse to what I had proposed, I refrained from -justifying my intentions so fully as I could have wished. But should -it prove that, even by the few words I ventured to speak, I was able -to convince you that this is no mere whim or common fancy, how happy -would such news make me.’ On a slip of paper folded small and tucked -into the letter he wrote the poem: ‘Though with all my heart I tried -to leave it behind me, never for a moment has it left me,—the fair -face of that mountain-flower!’ Though she had long passed the zenith -of her years the nun could not but be pleased and flattered by the -elegance of the note; for it was not only written in an exquisite -hand, but was folded with a careless dexterity which she greatly -admired. She felt very sorry for him, and would have been glad, had it -been in her conscience, to have sent him a more favourable reply. ‘We -were delighted,’ she wrote, ‘that being in the neighbourhood you took -occasion to pay us a visit. But I fear that when (as I very much hope -you will) you come here purposely to visit us, I shall not be able to -add anything to what I have said already. As for the poem which you -enclose, do not expect her to answer it, for she cannot yet write her -“Naniwa Zu”[5] properly, even letter by letter. Let me then answer it -for her: “For as long as the cherry-blossoms remain unscattered upon -the shore of Onoe where wild storms blow,—so long have you till now -been constant!” For my part, I am very uneasy about the matter.’ - -The priest replied to the same effect. Genji was very much -disappointed and after two or three days he sent for Koremitsu and -gave him a letter for the nun, telling him at the same time to -find out whatever he could from Shōnagon, the child’s nurse. ‘What an -impressionable character he is,’ thought Koremitsu. He had only had a -glimpse of the child; but that had sufficed to convince him that she -was a mere baby, though he remembered thinking her quite pretty. What -trick would his master’s heart be playing upon him next? - -The old priest was deeply impressed by the arrival of a letter in the -hands of so special and confidential a messenger. After delivering it, -Koremitsu sought out the nurse. He repeated all that Genji had told -him to say and added a great deal of general information about his -master. Being a man of many words he talked on and on, continually -introducing some new topic which had suddenly occurred to him as -relevant. But at the end of it all Shōnagon was just as puzzled as -everyone else had been to account for Genji’s interest in a child so -ridiculously young. His letter was very deferential. In it he said -that he longed to see a specimen of her childish writing done letter -by letter, as the nun had described. As before, he enclosed a poem: -‘Was it the shadows in the mountain well that told you my purpose was -but jest?’[6] To which she answered ‘Some perhaps that have drawn in -that well now bitterly repent. Can the shadows tell me if again it -will be so?’ and Koremitsu brought a spoken message to the same -effect, together with the assurance that so soon as the nun’s health -improved, she intended to visit the Capital and would then communicate -with him again. The prospect of her visit was very exciting. - -About this time Lady Fujitsubo fell ill and retired for a while from -the Palace. The sight of the Emperor’s grief and anxiety moved Genji’s -pity. But he could not help thinking that this was an opportunity -which must not be missed. He spent the whole of that day in a -state of great agitation, unable whether in his own house or at the -Palace to think of anything else or call upon anyone. When at last the -day was over, he succeeded in persuading her maid Ōmyōbu to take a -message. The girl, though she regarded any communication between them -as most imprudent, seeing a strange look in his face like that of one -who walks in a dream, took pity on him and went. The Princess looked -back upon their former relationship as something wicked and horrible -and the memory of it was a continual torment to her. She had -determined that such a thing must never happen again. - -She met him with a stern and sorrowful countenance, but this did not -disguise her charm, and as though conscious that he was unduly -admiring her she began to treat him with great coldness and disdain. -He longed to find some blemish in her, to think that he had been -mistaken, and be at peace. - -I need not tell all that happened. The night passed only too quickly. -He whispered in her ear the poem: ‘Now that at last we have met, would -that we might vanish forever into the dream we dreamed to-night!’ But -she, still conscience-stricken: ‘Though I were to hide in the darkness -of eternal sleep, yet would my shame run through the world from tongue -to tongue.’ And indeed, as Genji knew, it was not without good cause -that she had suddenly fallen into this fit of apprehension and -remorse. As he left, Ōmyōbu came running after him with his cloak and -other belongings which he had left behind. He lay all day upon his bed -in great torment. He sent a letter, but it was returned unopened. This -had happened many times in the past, but now it filled him with such -consternation that for two or three days he was completely prostrate -and kept his room. All this while he was in constant dread lest -his father, full of solicitude, should begin enquiring what new -trouble had overtaken him. Fujitsubo, convinced that her ruin was -accomplished, fell into a profound melancholy and her health grew -daily worse. Messengers arrived constantly from the Court begging her -to return without delay; but she could not bring herself to go. Her -disorder had now taken a turn which filled her with secret foreboding, -and she did nothing all day long but sit distractedly wondering what -would become of her. When the hot weather set in she ceased to leave -her bed at all. Three months had now passed and there was no mistaking -her condition. Soon it would be known and everywhere discussed. She -was appalled at the calamity which had overtaken her. Not knowing that -there was any cause for secrecy, her people were astonished that she -had not long ago informed the Emperor of her condition. Speculations -were rife, but the question was one which only the Princess herself -was in a position definitely to solve. Ōmyōbu and her old nurse’s -daughter who waited upon her at her toilet and in the bath-house had -at once noted the change and were somewhat taken aback. But Ōmyōbu was -unwilling to discuss the matter. She had an uncomfortable suspicion -that it was the meeting which she arranged that had now taken effect -with cruel promptness and precision. It was announced in the Palace -that other disorders had misled those about her and prevented them -from recognizing the true nature of her condition. This explanation -was accepted by everyone. - -The Emperor himself was full of tender concern, and though messengers -kept him constantly informed, the gloomiest doubts and fancies passed -continually through his mind. Genji was at this time visited by a most -terrifying and extraordinary dream. He sent for interpreters, but they -could make little of it. There were indeed certain passages to -which they could assign no meaning at all; but this much was clear: -the dreamer had made a false step and must be on his guard. ‘It was -not _my_ dream’ said Genji, feeling somewhat alarmed. ‘I am consulting -you on behalf of someone else,’ and he was wondering what this ‘false -step’ could have been when news reached him of the Princess’s -condition. This then was the disaster which his dream had portended! -At once he wrote her an immense letter full of passionate -self-reproaches and exhortations. But Ōmyōbu, thinking that it would -only increase her agitation, refused to deliver it, and he could trust -no other messenger. Even the few wretched lines which she had been in -the habit of sending to him now and again had for some while utterly -ceased. - -In her seventh month she again appeared at Court. Overjoyed at her -return, the Emperor lavished boundless affection upon her. The added -fulness of her figure, the unwonted pallor and thinness of her face -gave her, he thought, a new and incomparable charm. As before, all his -leisure was spent in her company. During this time several Court -festivals took place and Genji’s presence was constantly required; -sometimes he was called upon to play the _koto_ or flute, sometimes to -serve his father in other ways. On such occasions, strive as he might -to show no trace of embarrassment or agitation, he feared more than -once that he had betrayed himself; while to her such confrontations -were one long torment. - -The nun had somewhat improved in health and was now living in the -Capital. He had enquired where she was lodging and sent messages from -time to time, receiving (which indeed was all he expected) as little -encouragement as before. In the last months his longing for the child -had increased rather than diminished, but day after day went by -without his finding any means to change the situation. As the -autumn drew to its close, he fell into a state of great despondency. -One fine moonlit night when he had decided, against his own -inclination, to pay a certain secret visit,[7] a shower came on. As he -had started from the Palace and the place to which he was going was in -the suburbs of the Sixth Ward, it occurred to him that it would be -disagreeable to go so far in the rain. He was considering what he -should do when he noticed a tumbled-down house surrounded by very -ancient trees. He asked whose this gloomy and desolate mansion might -be, and Koremitsu, who, as usual, was with him replied: ‘Why that is -the late Azechi no Dainagon’s house. A day or two ago I took occasion -to call there and was told that my Lady the nun has grown very weak -and does not now know what goes on about her.’ ‘Why did you not tell -me this before? ‘said Genji deeply concerned; ‘I should have called at -once to convey my sympathy to her household. Pray go in at once and -ask for news.’ Koremitsu accordingly sent one of the lesser attendants -to the house, instructing him to give the impression that Genji had -come on purpose to enquire. When the man announced that Prince Genji -had sent him for news and was himself waiting outside, great -excitement and consternation prevailed in the house. Their mistress, -the servants said, had for several days been lying in a very parlous -condition and could not possibly receive a visit. But they dared not -simply send so distinguished a visitor away, and hastily tidying the -southern parlour, they bustled him into it, saying, ‘You must forgive -us for showing you into this untidy room. We have done our best to -make it presentable. Perhaps, on a surprise visit, you will forgive us -for conducting you to such an out-of-the-way closet....’ It was indeed -not at all the kind of room that he was used to. ‘I have been -meaning for a long while to visit this house,’ said Genji; ‘but time -after time the proposals which I made in writing concerning a certain -project of mine were summarily rejected and this discouraged me. Had I -but known that your mistress’s health had taken this turn for the -worse....’ ‘Tell him that at this moment my mind is clear, though it -may soon be darkened again. I am deeply sensible of the kindness he -has shown in thus visiting my death-bed, and regret that I cannot -speak with him face to face. Tell him that if by any chance he has not -altered his mind with regard to the matter that he has discussed with -me before, by all means let him, when the time has come, number her -among the ladies of his household. It is with great anxiety that I -leave her behind me and I fear that such a bond with earth may hinder -me from reaching the life for which I have prayed.’ - -Her room was so near and the partition so thin that as she gave -Shōnagon her message he could hear now and again the sound of her sad, -quavering voice. Presently he heard her saying to someone ‘How kind, -how very kind of him to come. If only the child were old enough to -thank him nicely!’ ‘It is indeed no question of kindness,’ said Genji -to Shōnagon. ‘Surely it is evident that only some very deep feeling -would have driven me to display so zealous a persistency! Since first -I saw this child, a feeling of strange tenderness towards her -possessed me, and it has grown to such a love as cannot be of this -world only.[8] Though it is but an idle fancy, I have a longing to -hear her voice. Could you not send for her before I go?’ ‘Poor little -thing,’ said Shōnagon. ‘She is fast asleep in her room and knows -nothing of all our troubles.’ But as she spoke there was a sound of -someone moving in the women’s quarters and a voice suddenly was heard -saying: ‘Grandmother, Grandmother! Prince Genji who came to see -us in the mountains is here, paying a visit. Why do you not let him -come and talk to you?’ ‘Hush, child, hush!’ cried all the gentlewomen, -scandalized. ‘No, no,’ said the child; ‘Grandmother said that when she -saw this prince it made her feel better at once. I was not being silly -at all.’ This speech delighted Genji; but the gentlewomen of the -household thought the child’s incursion painful and unseemly, and -pretended not to hear her last remark. Genji gave up the idea of -paying a real visit and drove back to his house, thinking as he went -that her behaviour was indeed still that of a mere infant. Yet how -easy and delightful it would be to teach her! - -Next day he paid a proper visit. On his arrival he sent in a poem -written on his usual tiny slip of paper: ‘Since first I heard the -voice of the young crane, my boat shows a strange tendency to stick -among the reeds!’ It was meant for the little girl and was written in -a large, childish hand, but very beautifully, so that the ladies of -the house said as soon as they saw it ‘This will have to go into the -child’s copy-book.’ - -Shōnagon sent him the following note: ‘My mistress, feeling that she -might not live through the day, asked us to have her moved to the -temple in the hills, and she is already on her way. I shall see to it -that she learns of your enquiry, if I can but send word to her before -it is too late.’ The letter touched him deeply. - -During these autumn evenings his heart was in a continual ferment. But -though all his thoughts were occupied in a different quarter, yet -owing to the curious relationship in which the child stood to the -being who thus obsessed his mind, the desire to make the girl his own -throughout this stormy time grew daily stronger. He remembered the -evening when he had first seen her and the nun’s poem, ‘Not -knowing if any will come to nurture the tender leaf....’ She would -always be delightful; but in some respects she might not fulfil her -early promise. One must take risks. And he made the poem: ‘When shall -I see it lying in my hand, the young grass of the moor-side that -springs from purple[9] roots?’ In the tenth month the Emperor was to -visit the Suzaku-in for the Festival of Red Leaves. The dancers were -all to be sons of the noblest houses. The most accomplished among the -princes, courtiers and other great gentlemen had been chosen for their -parts by the Emperor himself, and from the Royal Princes and State -Ministers downward everyone was busy with continual practices and -rehearsals. Genji suddenly realized that for a long while he had not -enquired after his friends on the mountain. He at once sent a special -messenger who brought back this letter from the priest: ‘The end came -on the twentieth day of last month. It is the common lot of mankind; -yet her loss is very grievous to me!’ This and more he wrote, and -Genji, reading the letter was filled with a bitter sense of life’s -briefness and futility. And what of the child concerning whose future -the dead woman had shown such anxiety? He could not remember his own -mother’s death at all distinctly; but some dim recollection still -floated in his mind and gave to his letter of condolence an added -warmth of feeling. It was answered, not without a certain -self-importance, by the nurse Shōnagon. - -After the funeral and mourning were over, the child was brought back -to the Capital. Hearing of this he allowed a short while to elapse and -then one fine, still night went to the house of his own accord. This -gloomy, decaying, half-deserted mansion must, he thought, have a most -depressing effect upon the child who lived there. He was shown -into the same small room as before. Here Shōnagon told him between her -sobs the whole tale of their bereavement, at which he too found -himself strangely moved. ‘I would send my little mistress to His -Highness her father’s,’ she continued, ‘did I not remember how cruelly -her poor mother was used in that house. And I would do it still if my -little lady were a child in arms who would not know where she had been -taken to nor what the people there were feeling towards her. But she -is now too big a girl to go among a lot of strange children who might -not treat her kindly. So her poor dead grandmother was always saying -down to her last day. You, Sir, have been very good to us, and it -would be a great weight off my mind to know that she was coming to you -even if it were only for a little while; and I would not worry you -with asking what was to become of her afterwards. Only for her sake I -am sorry indeed that she is not some years older, so that you might -make a match of it. But the way she has been brought up has made her -young even for her age.’ ‘You need not so constantly remind me of her -childishness,’ said Genji. ‘Though it is indeed her youth and -helplessness which move my compassion, yet I realize (and why should I -hide it from myself or from you?) that a far closer bond unites our -souls. Let me tell her myself what we have just now decided,’ and he -recited a poem in which he asked if ‘like the waves that lap the shore -where young reeds grow he must advance only to recede again.’ ‘Will -she be too much surprised?’ he added. Shōnagon, saying that the little -girl should by all means be fetched, answered his poem with another in -which she warned him that he must not expect her to ‘drift -seaweed-like with the waves,’ before she understood his intention. -‘Now, what made you think I should send you away without letting her -see you?’ she asked, speaking in an off-hand, familiar tone which he -found it easy to pardon. His appearance, which the gentlewomen of -the house studied with great care while he sat waiting for the child -and singing to himself a verse of the song _Why so hard to cross the -hill?_ made a deep impression upon them, and they did not forget that -moment for a long while after. - -The child was lying on her bed weeping for her grandmother. ‘A -gentleman in a big cloak has come to play with you,’ said one of the -women who were waiting upon her; ‘I wonder if it is your father.’ At -this she jumped up and cried out: ‘Nurse, where is the gentleman in a -cloak? Is he my father?’ and she came running into the room. ‘No,’ -said Genji, ‘it is not your father; but it is someone else who wants -you to be very fond of him. Come....’ She had learnt from the way -people talked about him that Prince Genji was someone very important, -and feeling that he must really be very angry with her for speaking of -him as the ‘gentleman in a cloak’ she went straight to her nurse and -whispered ‘Please, I am sleepy.’ ‘You must not be shy of me any more,’ -said Genji. ‘If you are sleepy, come here and lie on my knee. Will you -not even come and talk to me?’ ‘There,’ said Shōnagon, ‘you see what a -little savage she is,’ and pushed the child towards him. She stood -listlessly by his side, passing her hand under her hair so that it -fell in waves over her soft dress or clasping a great bunch of it -where it stuck out thick around her shoulders. Presently he took her -hand in his; but at once, in terror of this close contact with someone -to whom she was not used, she cried out ‘I said I wanted to go to -bed,’ and snatching her hand away she ran into the women’s quarters. -He followed her crying ‘Dear one, do not run away from me! Now that -your granny is gone, you must love me instead.’ ‘Well!’ gasped -Shōnagon, deeply shocked. ‘No, that is too much! How can you bring -yourself to say such a wicked thing to the poor child? And it is -not much use _telling_ people to be fond of one, is it?’ ‘For the -moment, it may not be,’ said Genji. ‘But you will see that strange -things happen if one’s heart is set upon a thing as mine is now.’ - -Hail was falling. It was a wild and terrible night. The thought of -leaving her to pass it in this gloomy and half-deserted mansion -immeasurably depressed him and snatching at this excuse for remaining -near her: ‘Shut the partition-door!’ he cried. ‘I will stay for a -while and play the watchman here on this terrible night. Draw near to -me, all of you!’ and so saying, as though it were the most natural -thing in the world, he picked up the child in his arms and carried her -to her bed. The gentlewomen were far too astonished and confounded to -budge from their seats; while Shōnagon, though his high-handed -proceedings greatly agitated and alarmed her, had to confess to -herself that there was no real reason to interfere, and could only sit -moaning in her corner. The little girl was at first terribly -frightened. She did not know what he was going to do with her and -shuddered violently. Even the feel of his delicate, cool skin when he -drew her to him, gave her goose-flesh. He saw this; but none the less -he began gently and carefully to remove her outer garments, and laid -her down. Then, though he knew quite well that she was still -frightened of him, he began talking to her softly and tenderly: ‘How -would you like to come with me one day to a place where there are lots -of lovely pictures and dolls and toys?’ And he went on to speak so -feelingly of all the things she was most interested in that soon she -felt almost at home with him. But for a long while she was restless -and did not go properly to sleep. The storm still raged. ‘Whatever -should we have done if this gentleman had not been here,’ whispered -one of the women; ‘I know that for my part I should have been in -a terrible fright. If only our little lady were nearer to his age!’ -Shōnagon, still mistrustful, sat quite close to Genji all the while. - -At last the wind began to drop. The night was far spent; but his -return at such an hour would cause no surprise! ‘She has become so -dear to me,’ said Genji, ‘that, above all at this sad time in her -life, I am loath to leave her even for a few short hours. I think I -shall put her somewhere where I can see her whenever I wish. I wonder -that she is not frightened to live in such a place as this.’ ‘I think -her father spoke of coming to fetch her,’ said Shōnagon; ‘but that is -not likely to be till the Forty-nine Days are up.’ ‘It would of course -under ordinary circumstances be natural that her father should look -after her,’ admitted Genji; ‘but as she has been brought up entirely -by someone else she has no more reason to care for him than for me. -And though I have known her so short a time, I am certainly far fonder -of her than her father can possibly be.’ So saying he stroked the -child’s hair and then reluctantly, with many backward glances, left -the room. There was now a heavy white fog, and hoar-frost lay thick on -the grass. Suddenly he found himself wishing that it were a real -love-affair, and he became very depressed. It occurred to him that on -his way home he would pass by a certain house which he had once -familiarly frequented. He knocked at the door, but no one answered. He -then ordered one of his servants who had a strong voice to recite the -following lines: ‘By my Sister’s gate though morning fog makes all the -world still dark as night, I could not fail to pause.’ When this had -been sung twice, the lady sent an impertinent coxcomb of a valet to -the door, who having recited the poem ‘If you disliked the hedge of -fog that lies about this place, a gate of crazy wicker would not keep -you standing in the street,’ at once went back again into the -house. He waited; but no one else came to the door, and though he was -in no mood to go dully home since it was now broad daylight, what else -could be done? At his palace he lay for a long while smiling to -himself with pleasure as he recollected the child’s pretty speeches -and ways. Towards noon he rose and began to write a letter to her; but -he could not find the right words, and after many times laying his -brush aside he determined at last to send her some nice pictures -instead. - -That day Prince Hyōbukyō paid his long-promised visit to the late -nun’s house. The place seemed to him even more ruinous, vast and -antiquated than he remembered it years ago. How depressing it must be -for a handful of persons to live in these decaying halls, and looking -about him he said to the nurse: ‘No child ought to live in a place -like this even for a little while. I must take her away at once; there -is plenty of room in my house. You’ (turning to Shōnagon) ‘shall be -found a place as a Lady-in-Waiting there. The child will be very well -off, for there are several other young people for her to play with.’ -He called the little girl to him and noticing the rich perfume that -clung to her dress since Genji held her in his arms, the Prince said -‘How nicely your dress is scented. But isn’t it rather drab?’ No -sooner had he said this than he remembered that she was in mourning, -and felt slightly uncomfortable. ‘I used sometimes to tell her -grandmother,’ he continued, ‘that she ought to let her come to see me -and get used to our ways; for indeed it was a strange upbringing for -her to live alone year in year out with one whose health and spirits -steadily declined. But she for some reason was very unfriendly towards -me, and there was in another quarter[10] too a reluctance which I fear -even at such a time as this may not be wholly overcome....’ ‘If that is -so,’ said Shōnagon, ‘dull as it is for her here, I do not think -she should be moved till she is a little better able to shift for -herself.’ - -For days on end the child had been in a terrible state of grief, and -not having eaten the least bite of anything she was grown very thin, -but was none the less lovely for that. He looked at her tenderly and -said: ‘You must not cry any more now. When people die, there is no -help for it and we must bear it bravely. But now all is well, for I -have come instead....’ But it was getting late and he could not stay -any longer. As he turned to go he saw that the child, by no means -consoled at the prospect of falling under his care, was again crying -bitterly. The Prince, himself shedding a few tears did his best to -comfort her: ‘Do not grieve so,’ he said, ‘to-day or to-morrow I will -send for you to come and live with me,’ and with that he departed. -Still the child wept and no way could be found to distract her -thoughts. It was not of course that she had any anxiety about her own -future, for about such matters she had not yet begun to think at all; -but only that she had lost the companion from whom for years on end -she had never for a moment been separated. Young as she was, she -suffered so cruelly that all her usual games were quite abandoned, and -though sometimes during the day her spirits would a little improve, as -night drew on she became so melancholy that Shōnagon began to wonder -how much longer things would go on like this, and in despair at not -being able to comfort her, would herself burst into tears. - -Presently Koremitsu arrived with a message saying that Genji had -intended to visit them, but owing to a sudden command from the Palace -was unable to do so, and being very much perturbed at the little one’s -grievous condition had sent for further news. Having delivered this -message Koremitsu brought in some of Genji’s servants whom he had -sent to mount guard over the house that night. ‘This kindness is -indeed ill-placed,’ said Shōnagon. ‘It may not seem to him of much -consequence that his gentlemen should be installed here; but if the -child’s father hears of it, we servants shall get all the blame for -the little lady’s being given away to a married gentleman. It was you -who let it all begin, we shall be told. Now be careful,’ she said -turning to her fellow-servants, ‘do not let her even mention these -watchmen to her father.’ But alas, the child was quite incapable of -understanding such a prohibition, and Shōnagon, after pouring out many -lamentations to Koremitsu, continued: ‘I do not doubt but that in due -time she will somehow become his wife, for so their fate seems to -decree. But now and for a long while there can be no talk of any such -thing, and this, as he has roundly told me, he knows as well as the -rest of us. So what he is after I cannot for the life of me imagine. -Only to-day when Prince Hyōbukyō was here he bade me keep a sharp eye -upon her and not let her be treated with any indiscretion. I confess -when he said it I remembered with vexation certain liberties which I -have allowed your master to take, thinking little enough of them at -the time.’ No sooner had she said this than she began to fear that -Koremitsu would put a worse construction on her words than she -intended, and shaking her head very dolefully she relapsed into -silence. Nor was she far wrong, for Koremitsu was indeed wondering of -what sort Genji’s misdemeanours could have been. - -On hearing Koremitsu’s report Genji’s heart was filled with pity for -the child’s state and he would like to have gone to her at once. But -he feared that ignorant people would misunderstand these frequent -visits and, thinking the girl older than she was, spread foolish -scandals abroad. It would be far simpler to fetch her to his -Palace and keep her there. All through the day he sent numerous -letters, and at dusk Koremitsu again went to the house saying that -urgent business had once more prevented Genji from visiting them, for -which remissness he tendered his apologies. Shōnagon answered curtly -that the girl’s father had suddenly decided to fetch her away next day -and that they were too busy to receive visits: ‘The servants are all -in a fluster at leaving this shabby old house where they have lived so -long and going to a strange, grand place....’ She answered his further -questions so briefly and seemed so intent upon her sewing, that -Koremitsu went away. - -Genji was at the Great Hall, but as usual he had been unable to get a -word out of Aoi and in a gloomy mood he was plucking at his zithern -and singing ‘Why sped you across field and hill So fast upon this -rainy night?’[11] - -The words of the song were aimed at Aoi and he sang them with much -feeling. He was thus employed when Koremitsu arrived at the Great -Hall. Genji sent for him at once and bade him tell his story. -Koremitsu’s news was very disquieting. Once she was in her father’s -palace it would look very odd that Genji should fetch her away, even -if she came willingly. It would inevitably be rumoured abroad that he -had made off with her like a child-snatcher, a thief. Far better to -anticipate his rival and exacting a promise of silence from the people -about her, carry her off to his own palace immediately. ‘I shall go -there at daybreak,’ he said to Koremitsu; ‘Order the carriage that I -came here in, it can be used just as it is, and see to it that one or -two attendants are ready to go with me.’ Koremitsu bowed and retired. - -Genji knew that whichever course he chose, there was bound to be -a scandal so soon as the thing became known. Inevitably gossips would -spread the report that, young though she was, the child by this time -knew well enough why she had been invited to live with Prince Genji in -his palace. Let them draw their own conclusions. That did not matter. -There was a much worse possibility. What if Hyōbukyō found out where -she was? His conduct in abducting another man’s child would appear in -the highest degree outrageous and discreditable. He was sorely -puzzled, but he knew that if he let this opportunity slip he would -afterwards bitterly repent it, and long before daybreak he started on -his way. Aoi was cold and sullen as ever. ‘I have just remembered -something very important which I must see about at home,’ he said; ‘I -shall not be away long,’ and he slipped out so quietly that the -servants of the house did not know that he was gone. His cloak was -brought to him from his own apartments and he drove off attended only -by Koremitsu who followed on horseback. After much knocking they -succeeded in getting the gate opened, but by a servant who was not in -the secret. Koremitsu ordered the man to pull in Genji’s carriage as -quietly as he could and himself went straight to the front door, which -he rattled, coughing as he did so that Shōnagon might know who was -there. ‘My lord is waiting,’ he said when she came to the door. ‘But -the young lady is fast asleep,’ said Shōnagon; ‘his Highness has no -business to be up and about at this time of night.’ She said this -thinking that he was returning from some nocturnal escapade and had -only called there in passing. ‘I hear,’ said Genji now coming forward, -‘that the child is to be moved to her father’s and I have something of -importance which I must say to her before she goes.’ ‘Whatever -business you have to transact with her, I am sure she will give the -matter her closest attention,’ scoffed Shōnagon. Matters of -importance indeed, with a child of ten! Genji entered the women’s -quarters. ‘You cannot go in there,’ cried Shōnagon in horror; ‘several -aged ladies are lying all undressed....’ ‘They are all fast asleep,’ -said Genji. ‘See, I am only rousing the child,’ and bending over her: -‘The morning mist is rising,’ he cried, ‘it is time to wake!’ And -before Shōnagon had time to utter a sound, he had taken the child in -his arms and begun gently to rouse her. Still half-dreaming, she -thought it was the prince her father who had come to fetch her. ‘Come,’ -said Genji while he put her hair to rights, ‘your father has sent me -to bring you back with me to his palace.’ For a moment she was dazed -to find that it was not her father and shrank from him in fright. -‘Never mind whether it is your father or I,’ he cried; ‘it is all the -same,’ and so saying he picked her up in his arms and carried her out -of the inner room. ‘Well!’ cried out Koremitsu and Shōnagon in -astonishment. What would he do next? ‘It seems,’ said Genji, ‘that you -were disquieted at my telling you I could not visit her here as often -as I wished and would make arrangements for her to go to a more -convenient place. I hear that you are sending her where it will be -even more difficult for me to see her. Therefore ... make ready one or -the other of you to come with me.’ - -Shōnagon, who now realized that he was going to make off with the -child, fell into a terrible fluster. ‘O Sir,’ she said, ‘you could not -have chosen a worse time. To-day her father is coming to fetch her, -and whatever shall I say to him? If only you would wait, I am sure it -would all come right in the end. But by acting so hastily you will do -yourself no good and leave the poor servants here in a sad pickle.’ -‘If that is all,’ cried Genji, ‘let them follow as soon as they -choose,’ and to Shōnagon’s despair he had the carriage brought in. The -child stood by weeping and bewildered. There seemed no way of -preventing him from carrying out his purpose and gathering together -the child’s clothes that she had been sewing the night before, the -nurse put on her own best dress and stepped into the carriage. Genji’s -house was not far off and they arrived before daylight. They drew up -in front of the western wing and Genji alighted. Taking the child -lightly in his arms he set her on the ground. Shōnagon, to whom these -strange events seemed like a dream, hesitated as though still -uncertain whether she should enter the house or no. ‘There is no need -for you to come in if you do not want to,’ said Genji. ‘Now that the -child herself is safely here I am quite content. If you had rather go -back, you have only to say so and I will escort you.’ - -Reluctantly she left the carriage. The suddenness of the move was in -itself enough to have upset her; but she was also worrying about what -Prince Hyōbukyō would think when he found that his child had vanished. -And indeed what _was_ going to become of her? One way or another all her -mistresses seemed to be taken from her and it was only when she became -frightened of having wept for so long on end that she at last dried -her eyes and began to pray. - -The western wing had long been uninhabited and was not completely -furnished; but Koremitsu had soon fitted up screens and curtains where -they were required. For Genji makeshift quarters were soon contrived -by letting down the side-wings of his screen-of-honour. He sent to the -other part of the house for his night things and went to sleep. The -child, who had been put to bed not far off, was still very -apprehensive and ill at ease in these new surroundings. Her lips were -trembling, but she dared not cry out loud. ‘I want to sleep with -Shōnagon,’ she said at last in a tearful, babyish voice. ‘You are -getting too big to sleep with a nurse,’ said Genji, who had heard her. -‘You must try and go to sleep nicely where you are.’ She felt -very lonely and lay weeping for a long while. The nurse was far too -much upset to think of going to bed and sat up for the rest of the -night in the servants’ quarters crying so bitterly that she was -unconscious of all that went on around her. - -But when it grew light she began to look about her a little. Not only -this great palace with its marvellous pillars and carvings, but the -sand in the courtyard outside which seemed to her like a carpet of -jewels made so dazzling an impression upon her that at first she felt -somewhat overawed. However, the fact that she was now no longer in a -household of women gave her an agreeable sense of security. - -It was the hour at which business brought various strangers to the -house. There were several men walking just outside her window and she -heard one of them whisper to another: ‘They say that someone new has -come to live here. Who can it be, I wonder? A lady of note, I’ll -warrant you.’ - -Bath water was brought from the other wing, and steamed rice for -breakfast. Genji did not rise till far on into the morning. ‘It is not -good for the child to be alone,’ he said to Shōnagon, ‘so last night -before I came to you I arranged for some little people to come and -stay here,’ and so saying he sent a servant to ‘fetch the little girls -from the eastern wing.’ He had given special orders that they were to -be as small as possible and now four of the tiniest and prettiest -creatures imaginable arrived upon the scene. - -Murasaki was still asleep, lying wrapped in Genji’s own coat. It was -with difficulty that he roused her. ‘You must not be sad any more,’ he -said; ‘If I were not very fond of you, should I be looking after you -like this? Little girls ought to be very gentle and obedient in their -ways.’ And thus her education was begun. - -She seemed to him, now that he could study her at leisure, even -more lovely than he had realized and they were soon engaged in an -affectionate conversation. He sent for delightful pictures and toys to -show her and set to work to amuse her in every way he could. Gradually -he persuaded her to get up and look about her. In her shabby dress -made of some dark grey material she looked so charming now that she -was laughing and playing, with all her woes forgotten, that Genji too -laughed with pleasure as he watched her. When at last he retired to -the eastern wing, she went out of doors to look at the garden. As she -picked her way among the trees and along the side of the lake, and -gazed with delight upon the frosty flower-beds that glittered gay as a -picture, while a many-coloured throng of unknown people passed -constantly in and out of the house, she began to think that this was a -very nice place indeed. Then she looked at the wonderful pictures that -were painted on all the panels and screens and quite lost her heart to -them. - -For two or three days Genji did not go to the Palace, but spent all -his time amusing the little girl. Finally he drew all sorts of -pictures for her to put into her copy-book, showing them to her one by -one as he did so. She thought them the loveliest set of pictures she -had ever seen. Then he wrote part of the _Musashi-no_ poem.[12] She -was delighted by the way it was written in bold ink-strokes on a -background stained with purple. In a smaller hand was the poem: -‘Though the parent-root[13] I cannot see, yet tenderly I love its -off-shoot,[14]—the dewy plant that grows upon Musashi Moor.’ ‘Come’ -said Genji while she was admiring it, ‘you must write something too.’ -‘I cannot write properly yet’ she answered, looking up at him with a -witchery so wholly unconscious that Genji laughed. ‘Even if you -cannot write properly it will never do for us to let you off -altogether. Let me give you a lesson.’ With many timid glances towards -him she began to write. Even the childish manner in which she grasped -the brush gave him a thrill of delight which he was at a loss to -explain. ‘Oh, I have spoiled it’ she suddenly cried out and blushing -hid from him what she had written. But he forced her to let him see it -and found the poem: ‘I do not know what put Musashi into your head and -am very puzzled. What plant is it that you say is a relative of mine?’ -It was written in a large childish hand which was indeed very -undeveloped, but was nevertheless full of promise. It showed a strong -resemblance to the late nun’s writing. He felt certain that if she -were given up-to-date copy-books she would soon write very nicely. - -Next they built houses for the dolls and played so long at this game -together that Genji forgot for a while the great anxiety[15] which was -at that time preying upon his mind. - -The servants who had been left behind at Murasaki’s house were -extremely embarrassed when Prince Hyōbukyō came to fetch her. Genji -had made them promise for a time at any rate to tell no one of what -had happened and Shōnagon had seemed to agree that this was best. -Accordingly he could get nothing out of them save that Shōnagon had -taken the child away with her without saying anything about where she -was going. The Prince felt completely baffled. Perhaps the grandmother -had instilled into the nurse’s mind the idea that things would not go -smoothly for the child at his palace. In that case the nurse with an -excess of craftiness might, instead of openly saying that she feared -the child would not be well treated under his roof, have thought it -wiser to make off with her when opportunity offered. He went home -very depressed, asking them to let him know instantly if they had any -news, a request which again embarrassed them. He also made enquiries -of the priest at the temple in the hills, but could learn nothing. She -had seemed to him to be a most lovable and delightful child; it was -very disappointing to lose sight of her in this manner. The princess -his wife had long ago got over her dislike of the child’s mother and -was indignant at the idea that she was not to be trusted to do her -duty by the child properly. - -Gradually the servants from Murasaki’s house assembled at her new -home. The little girls who had been brought to play with her were -delighted with their new companion and they were soon all playing -together very happily. - -When her prince was away or busy, on dreary evenings she would still -sometimes long for her grandmother the nun and cry a little. But she -never thought about her father whom she had never been used to see -except at rare intervals. Now indeed she had ‘a new father’ of whom -she was growing every day more fond. When he came back from anywhere -she was the first to meet him and then wonderful games and -conversations began, she sitting all the while on his lap without the -least shyness or restraint. A more charming companion could not have -been imagined. It might be that when she grew older, she would not -always be so trustful. New aspects of her character might come into -play. If she suspected, for example, that he cared for someone else, -she might resent it, and in such a case all sorts of unexpected things -are apt to happen; but for the present she was a delightful plaything. -Had she really been his daughter, convention would not have allowed -him to go on much longer living with her on terms of such complete -intimacy; but in a case like this he felt that such scruples were not -applicable. - -[1] Fujitsubo, who was indeed the child’s aunt. - -[2] Fujitsubo, who was Hyōbukyō’s sister. - -[3] The Guardian Spell (_goshin_) is practised as follows: - -The ministrant holds the palms of his hands together with middle -fingers touching and extended, first fingers separated and bent, -tips of thumbs and little fingers bunched together, and third -fingers in line with middle fingers so as to be invisible from in -front. With hands in this sacred pose (_mudrā_) he touches the -worshipper on forehead, left and right shoulder, heart and throat. -At each contact he utters the spell - - ON · BASARA GONJI HARAJŪBATA · SOHAKA - -which is corrupt Sanskrit and means ‘I invoke thee, thou -diamond-fiery very majestic Star.’ The deity here invoked is -Vairocana, favourite Buddha of the Mystic Sect. - -[4] A Chinese instrument; often translated ‘mouth-organ.’ - -[5] A song the words of which were used as a first writing lesson. - -[6] There is here a pun, and a reference to poem 3807 in the _Manyōshū_. - -[7] To Lady Rokujō. - -[8] Arises out of some connection in a previous existence. - -[9] Purple is _murasaki_ in Japanese. From this poem the child is -known as Murasaki; and hence the authoress derived the nickname by -which she too is known. - -[10] His wife. - -[11] The song is addressed by a girl to a suspicious lover; Genji -reverses the sense. - -[12] ‘Though I know not the place, yet when they told me this was the -moor of Musashi, the thought flashed through my mind: “What else -indeed could it be, since all its grass is purple-dyed?”’ - -[13] Fujitsubo. The fuji flower is also purple (_murasaki_) in colour. - -[14] The child Murasaki, who was Fujitsubo’s niece. Musashi was famous -for the purple dye extracted from the roots of a grass that grew there. - -[15] The pregnancy of Fujitsubo. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - THE SAFFRON-FLOWER - - -Try as he might he could not dispel the melancholy into which Yūgao’s -sudden death[1] had cast him, and though many months had gone by he -longed for her passionately as ever. In other quarters where he had -looked for affection, coldness vied with coldness and pride with -pride. He longed to escape once more from the claims of these -passionate and exacting natures, and renew the life of tender intimacy -which for a while had given him so great a happiness. But alas, no -second Yūgao would he ever find. Despite his bitter experience he -still fancied that one day he might at least discover some beautiful -girl of humble origin whom he could meet without concealment, and he -listened eagerly to any hint that was likely to put him upon a -promising track. If the prospects seemed favourable he would follow up -his enquiries by writing a discreet letter which, as he knew from -experience, would seldom indeed meet with a wholly discouraging reply. -Even those who seemed bent on showing by the prim stiffness of their -answers that they placed virtue high above sensibility, and who at -first appeared hardly conversant with the usages of polite society, -would suddenly collapse into the wildest intimacy which would continue -until their marriage with some commonplace husband cut short the -correspondence. - -There were vacant moments when he thought of Utsusemi with regret. And -there was her companion too; some time or other there would surely be -an opportunity of sending her a surprise message. If only he could see -her again as he had seen her that night sitting by the chess-board in -the dim lamplight. It was not indeed in his nature ever to forget -anyone of whom he had once been fond. - -Among his old nurses there was one called Sayemon to whom, next after -Koremitsu’s mother, he was most deeply attached. She had a daughter -called Taifu no Myōbu who was in service at the Palace. This girl was -an illegitimate child of a certain member of the Imperial family who -was then Vice-minister of the Board of War. She was a young person of -very lively disposition and Genji often made use of her services. Her -mother, Genji’s nurse, had afterwards married the governor of Echizen -and had gone with him to his province, so the girl when she was not at -the Palace lived chiefly at her father’s. - -She happened one day when she was talking with Genji to mention a -certain princess, daughter of the late Prince Hitachi. This lady, she -said, was born to the Prince when he was quite an old man and every -care had been lavished upon her upbringing. Since his death she had -lived alone and was very unhappy. Genji’s sympathy was aroused and he -began to question Myōbu about this unfortunate lady. ‘I do not really -know much either about her character or her appearance’ said Myōbu; -‘she is extremely seclusive in her habits. Sometimes I have talked to -her a little in the evening, but always with a curtain between us. I -believe her zithern is the only companion in whom she is willing to -confide.’ ‘Of the Three Friends[2] one at least would in her case be -unsuitable’ said Genji. ‘But I should like to hear her play; her -father was a great performer on this instrument and it is -unlikely that she has not inherited some of his skill.’ ‘Oh, I am -afraid she is not worth your coming to hear,’ said Myōbu. ‘You are -very discouraging,’ he answered, ‘but all the same I shall hide there -one of these nights when the full moon is behind the clouds and listen -to her playing; and you shall come with me.’ She was not best pleased; -but just then even upon the busy Palace a springtime quiet seemed to -have settled, and being quite at leisure she consented to accompany -him. Her father’s house was at some distance from the town and for -convenience he sometimes lodged in Prince Hitachi’s palace. Myōbo got -on badly with her step-mother, and taking a fancy to the lonely -princess’s quarters she kept a room there. - -It was indeed on the night after the full moon, in just such a veiled -light as Genji had spoken of, that they visited the Hitachi palace. ‘I -am afraid,’ said Myōbu, ‘that it is not a very good night for -listening to music; sounds do not seem to carry very well.’ But he -would not be thus put off. ‘Go to her room’ he said, ‘and persuade her -to play a few notes; it would be a pity if I went away without hearing -her at all.’ Myōbu felt somewhat shy of leaving him like this in her -own little private room. She found the princess sitting by the window, -her shutters not yet closed for the night; she was enjoying the scent -of a blossoming plum-tree which stood in the garden just outside. It -did indeed seem just the right moment. ‘I thought how lovely your -zithern would sound on such a night as this,’ she said, ‘and could not -resist coming to see you. I am always in such a hurry, going to and -from the Palace, that do you know I have never had time to hear you -play. It is such a pity.’ ‘Music of this sort,’ she replied, ‘gives no -pleasure to those who have not studied it. What do they care for such -matters _who all day long run hither and thither in the City of a -Hundred Towers_?’[3] She sent for her zithern; but her heart beat fast. -What impression would her playing make upon this girl? Timidly she -sounded a few notes. The effect was very agreeable. True, she was not -a great performer; but the instrument was a particularly fine one and -Genji found her playing by no means unpleasant to listen to. - -Living in this lonely and half-ruined palace after such an upbringing -(full no doubt of antiquated formalities and restrictions) as her -father was likely to have given her it would be strange indeed if her -life did not for the most part consist of memories and regrets. This -was just the sort of place which in an old tale would be chosen as the -scene for the most romantic happenings. His imagination thus stirred, -he thought of sending her a message. But perhaps she would think this -rather sudden. For some reason he felt shy, and hesitated. - -‘It seems to be clouding over,’ said the astute Myōbu, who knew that -Genji would carry away a far deeper impression if he heard no more for -the present. ‘Someone was coming to see me’ she continued; ‘I must -not keep him waiting. Perhaps some other time when I am not in such a -hurry.... Let me close your window for you,’ and with that she -rejoined Genji, giving the princess no encouragement to play any more. -‘She stopped so soon,’ he complained, ‘that it was hardly worth -getting her to play at all. One had not time to catch the drift of -what she was playing. Really it was a pity!’ That the princess was -beautiful he made no doubt at all. ‘I should be very much obliged if -you would arrange for me to hear her at closer quarters.’ But Myōbu, -thinking that this would lead to disappointment, told him that the -princess who led so hermit-like an existence and seemed always so -depressed and subdued would hardly welcome the suggestion that -she should perform before a stranger. ‘Of course,’ said Genji, ‘a -thing of that kind could only be suggested between people who were on -familiar terms or to someone of very different rank. This lady’s rank, -as I am perfectly well aware, entitles her to be treated with every -consideration, and I would not ask you to do more than hint at my -desire.’ He had promised to meet someone else that night and carefully -disguising himself he was preparing to depart when Myōbu said laughing -‘It amuses me sometimes to think how the Emperor deplores the too -strict and domesticated life which he suffers you to lead. What would -he think if he could see you disguising yourself like this?’ Genji -laughed. ‘I am afraid,’ he said as he left the room, ‘that you are not -quite the right person to denounce me. Those who think such conduct -reprehensible in a man must find it even less excusable in a girl.’ -She remembered that Genji had often been obliged to reproach her for -her reckless flirtations, and blushing made no reply. - -Still hoping to catch a glimpse of the zithern-player he crept softly -towards her window. He was about to hide at a point where the -bamboo-fence was somewhat broken down when he perceived that a man was -already ensconced there. Who could it be? No doubt it was one of the -princess’s lovers and he stepped back to conceal himself in the -darkness. The stranger followed him and turned out to be no other than -Tō no Chūjō. That evening they had left the Palace together, but when -they parted Genji (Chūjō had noticed) did not either go in the -direction of the Great Hall nor back to his own palace. This aroused -Chūjō’s curiosity and, despite the fact that he too had a secret -appointment that night, he decided first to follow Genji and discover -what was afoot. So riding upon a strange horse and wearing a -hunting-cloak, he had got himself up altogether so villainously -that he was able to follow Genji without being recognized upon the -road. Seeing him enter so unexpected a place, Chūjō was trying to -imagine what business his friend could possibly have in such a quarter -when the music began and he secreted himself with a vague idea of -waylaying Genji when he came out. But the prince, not knowing who the -stranger was and frightened of being recognized, stole on tip-toe into -the shadow. Chūjō suddenly accosted him: ‘Though you shook me off so -uncivilly, I thought it my duty to keep an eye on you’ he said, and -recited the poem: ‘Though together we left the great Palace hill, your -setting-place you would not show me, Moon of the sixteenth night!’ -Thus he remonstrated; and Genji, though at first he had been somewhat -put out by finding that he was not alone, when he recognized Tō no -Chūjō could not help being rather amused. ‘This is indeed an -unexpected attention on your part’ he said, and expressed his slight -annoyance in the answering verse: ‘Though wheresoever it shines men -marvel at its light, who has before thought fit to follow the full -moon to the hill whereon it sets?’ - -‘It is most unsafe for you to go about like this,’ said Chūjō. ‘I -really mean it. You ought always to have a bodyguard; then you are all -right whatever happens. I wish you would always let me come with you. -I am afraid that these clandestine expeditions may one day get you -into trouble,’ and he solemnly repeated the warning. What chiefly -worried Genji was the thought that this might not be the first -occasion upon which Chūjō had followed him; but if it had been his -habit to do so it was certainly very tactful of him never to have -questioned Genji about Yūgao’s child.[4] - -Though each of them had an appointment elsewhere, they agreed not -to part. Both of them got into Genji’s carriage and the moon having -vanished behind a cloud, beguiled the way to the Great Hall by playing -a duet upon their flutes. They did not send for torch-bearers to see -them in at the gates, but creeping in very quietly stole to a portico -where they could not be seen and had their ordinary clothes brought to -them there. Having changed, they entered the house merrily blowing -their flutes as though they had just come back from the Palace. - -Chūjō’s father, who usually pretended not to hear them when they -returned late at night, on this occasion brought out his flageolet, -which was his favourite instrument, and began to play very agreeably. -Aoi sent for her zithern and made all her ladies play on the -instruments at which they excelled. Only Nakatsukasa, though she was -known for her lute-playing, having thrown over Tō no Chūjō who had -been her lover because of her infatuation for Genji with whom her sole -intercourse was that she sometimes saw him casually when he visited -the Great Hall,—only Nakatsukasa sat drooping listlessly; for her -passion had become known to Aoi’s mother and the rest, and they were -being very unpleasant about it. She was thinking in her despair that -perhaps it would be better if she went and lived in some place where -she would never see Genji at all; but the step was hard to take and -she was very unhappy. - -The young princes were thinking of the music they had heard earlier in -the evening, of those romantic surroundings tinged with a peculiar and -inexplicable beauty. Merely because it pleased him so to imagine her, -Tō no Chūjō had already endowed the occupant of the lonely mansion -with every charm. He had quite decided that Genji had been courting -her for months or even years, and thought impatiently that he for his -part, if like Genji he were violently in love with a lady of this -kind, would have been willing to risk a few reproaches or even -the loss of a little reputation. He could not however believe that his -friend intended to let the matter rest as it was much longer and -determined to amuse himself by a little rivalry. From that time -onwards both of them sent letters to the lady, but neither ever -received any answer. This both vexed and puzzled them. What could be -the reason? Thinking that such images were suitable to a lady brought -up in these rustic surroundings, in most of the poems which they sent -her they alluded to delicate trees and flowers or other aspects of -nature, hoping sooner or later to hit on some topic which would arouse -her interest in their suit. Though she was of good birth and -education, perhaps through being so long buried away in her vast -mansion she had not any longer the wits to write a reply. And what -indeed did it matter whether she answered or not, thought Tō no Chūjō, -who none the less was somewhat piqued. With his usual frankness he -said to Genji: ‘I wonder whether you have had any answer. I must -confess that as an experiment I too sent a mild hint, but without any -success, so I have not repeated it.’ ‘So he too has been trying his -hand,’ thought Genji smiling to himself. ‘No,’ he answered aloud, ‘my -letter did not need an answer, which was perhaps the reason that I did -not receive one.’ From this enigmatic reply Chūjō deduced that Genji -had been in communication of some kind with the lady and he was -slightly piqued by the fact that she had shown a preference between -them. Genji’s deeper feelings were in no way involved, and though his -vanity was a little wounded he would not have pursued the matter -farther had he not known the persuasive power of Chūjō’s style, and -feared that even now she might overcome her scruples and send him a -reply. Chūjō would become insufferably cock-a-hoop if he got into his -head the idea that the princess had transferred her affections from -Genji to himself. He must see what Myōbu could be persuaded to -do. ‘I cannot understand,’ he said to her, ‘why the princess should -refuse to take any notice of my letters. It is really very uncivil of -her. I suppose she thinks I am a frivolous person who intends to amuse -himself a little in her company and then disappear. It is a strangely -false conception of my character. As you know, my affections never -alter, and if I have ever seemed to the world to be unfaithful it has -always been because in reality my suit had met with some unexpected -discouragement. But this lady is so placed that no opposition from -parents or brothers can interrupt our friendship, and if she will but -trust me she will find that her being alone in the world, so far from -exposing her to callous treatment, makes her the more attractive.’ -‘Come,’ answered Myōbu, ‘it will never do for you to run away with the -idea that you can treat this great lady as a pleasant wayside -distraction; on the contrary she is extremely difficult of access and -her rank has accustomed her to be treated with deference and -ceremony.’ So spoke Myōbu, in accordance indeed with her own -experience of the princess. ‘She has evidently no desire to be thought -clever or dashing’ said Genji; ‘for some reason I imagine her as very -gentle and forgiving.’ He was thinking of Yūgao when he said this. - -Soon after this he fell sick of his fever and after that was occupied -by a matter of great secrecy; so that spring and summer had both -passed away before he could again turn his attention to the lonely -lady. But in the autumn came a time of quiet meditation and reflexion. -Again the sound of the cloth-beaters’ mallets reached his ears, -tormenting him with memories and longings. He wrote many letters to -the zithern-player, but with no more success than before. Her -churlishness exasperated him. More than ever he was determined not to -give in, and sending for Myōbu he scolded her for having been of -so little assistance to him. ‘What can be going on in the princess’s -mind?’ he said; ‘such strange behaviour I have never met with before.’ -If he was piqued and surprised, Myōbu for her part was vexed that the -affair had gone so badly. ‘No one can say that you have done anything -so very eccentric or indiscreet, and I do not think she feels so. If -she does not answer your letters it is only part of her general -unwillingness to face the outer world.’ ‘But such a way of behaving is -positively barbarous,’ said Genji; ‘if she were a girl in her ’teens -and under the care of parents or guardians, such timidity might be -pardoned; but in an independent woman it is inconceivable. I would -never have written had I not taken it for granted that she had some -experience of the world. I was merely hoping that I had found someone -who in moments of idleness or depression would respond to me -sympathetically. I did not address her in the language of gallantry, -but only begged for permission sometimes to converse with her in that -strange and lonely dwelling-place. But since she seems unable to -understand what it is I am asking of her, we must see what can be done -without waiting for her permission. If you will help me, you may be -sure I shall not disgrace you in any way.’ - -Myōbu had once been in the habit of describing to him the appearance -of people whom she had chanced to meet and he always listened to such -accounts with insatiable interest and curiosity; but for a long while -he had paid no attention to her reports. Now for no reason at all the -mere mention of the princess’s existence had aroused in him a fever of -excitement and activity. It was all very unaccountable. Probably he -would find the poor lady extremely unattractive when he saw her and -she would be doing her a very poor service in effecting the -introduction; but to give Genji no help in a matter to which he -evidently attached so much importance, would seem very ill-natured. - -Even in Prince Hitachi’s life-time visitors to this stiff, -old-fashioned establishment had been very rare, and now no foot at all -ever made its way through the thickets which were closing in around -the house. It may be imagined then what the visit of so celebrated a -person as Genji would have meant to the ladies-in-waiting and lesser -persons of the household and with what urgency they begged their -mistress to send a favourable reply. But the same desperate shyness -still possessed her and Genji’s letters she would not even read. -Hearing this Myōbu determined to submit Genji’s request to her at some -suitable moment when she and the princess were carrying on one of -their usual uneasy conversations, with the princess’s screen-of-honour -planted between them. ‘If she seems displeased,’ thought Myōbu, ‘I -will positively have nothing more to do with the matter; but if she -receives him and some sort of an affair starts between them, there is -fortunately no one connected with her to scold me or get me into -trouble.’ As the result of these and other reflections, being quite at -home in matters of this kind, she sensibly decided to say nothing -about the business to anybody, not even to her father. - -Late one night, soon after the twentieth day of the eighth month, the -princess sat waiting for the moon to rise. Though the star-light shone -clear and lovely the moaning of the wind in the pine-tree branches -oppressed her with its melancholy, and growing weary of waiting she -was with many tears and sighs recounting to Myōbu stories of bygone -men and days. - -Now was the time to convey Genji’s message, thought Myōbu. She sent -for him, and secretly as before he crept up to the palace. The moon -was just rising. He stood where the neglected bamboo-hedge grew -somewhat sparsely and watched. Persuaded by Myōbu the princess was -already at her zithern. So far as he could hear it at this -distance, he did not find the music displeasing; but Myōbu in her -anxiety and confusion thought the tune very dull and wished it would -occur to the princess to play something rather more up-to-date. The -place where Genji was waiting was well screened from view and he had -no difficulty in creeping unobserved into the house. Here he called -for Myōbu, who pretending that the visit was a complete surprise to -her said to the princess: ‘I am so sorry, here is Prince Genji come to -see me. I am always getting into trouble with him for failing to -secure him your favour. I have really done my best, but you do not -make it possible for me to give him any encouragement, so now I -imagine he has come to deal with the matter for himself. What am I to -say to him? I can answer for it that he will do nothing violent or -rash. I think that considering all the trouble he has taken you might -at least tell him that you will speak to him through a screen or -curtain.’ The idea filled the princess with consternation. ‘I should -not know what to say to him,’ she wailed and as she said the words -bolted towards the far side of the room with a bashfulness so -infantile that Myōbu could not help laughing. ‘Indeed, Madam,’ she -said, ‘it is childish of you to take the matter to heart in this way. -If you were an ordinary young lady under the eye of stern parents and -brothers, one could understand it; but for a person in your position -to go on for ever being afraid to face the world is fantastic.’ So -Myōbu admonished her and the princess, who could never think of any -argument against doing what she was told to do, said at last: ‘If I -have only to listen and need not say anything he may speak to me from -behind the lattice-door, so long as it is well locked.’ ‘I cannot ask -him to sit on the servant’s bench,’ said Myōbu. ‘You really need not -be afraid that he will do anything violent or sudden.’ Thus persuaded, -the princess went to a hatch which communicated between the -women’s quarters and the strangers’ dais and firmly locking it with -her own hand stuffed a mattress against it to make sure that no chink -was left unstopped. She was in such a terrible state of confusion that -she had not the least idea what she should say to her visitor, if she -had to speak to him, and had agreed to listen to him only because -Myōbu told her that she ought to. - -Several elderly serving-women of the wet-nurse type had been lying -half-asleep in the inner room since dusk. There were however one or -two younger maids who had heard a great deal about this Prince Genji -and were ready to fall in love with him at a moment’s notice. They now -brought out their lady’s handsomest dress and persuaded her to let -them put her a little to rights; but she displayed no interest in -these preparations. Myōbu meanwhile was thinking how well Genji looked -in the picturesque disguise which he had elaborated for use on these -night excursions and wished it were being employed in some quarter -where it was more likely to be appreciated. Her only consolation was -that so mild a lady was not likely to make inordinate demands upon him -or pester him with jealousies and exactions. On the other hand, she -was rather worried about the princess. ‘What’ thought Myōbu, ‘if she -should fall in love with him and her heart be broken merely because I -was frightened of getting scolded?’ - -Remembering her rank and upbringing, he was far from expecting her to -behave with the lively pertness of an up-to-date miss. She would be -langorous; yes, langorous and passionate. When, half-pushed by Myōbu, -the princess at last took her stand near the partition where she was -to converse with her visitor, a delicious scent of sandal-wood[5] -invaded his nostrils, and this piece of coquetry at once raised -his hopes. He began to tell her with great earnestness and eloquence -how for almost a year she had continually occupied his thoughts. But -not a word did she answer; talking to her was no better than writing! -Irritated beyond measure he recited the verse: ‘If with a Vow of -Silence thus ten times and again my combat I renew, ’tis that against -me at least no sentence of muteness has been passed.’ ‘Speak at least -one word of dismissal,’ he continued; ‘do not leave me in this -bewilderment.’ There was among her ladies one called Jijū, the -daughter of her old nurse. Being a girl of great liveliness and -intelligence she could not bear to see her mistress cutting such a -figure as this and stepping to her side she answered with the poem: -‘The bell[6] had sounded and for a moment silence was imposed upon my -lips. To have kept you waiting grieves me, and there let the matter -rest.’ She said the words in such a way that Genji was completely -taken in and thought it was the princess who had thus readily answered -his poem. He had not expected such smartness from an aristocratic lady -of the old school; but the surprise was agreeable and he answered: -‘Madam, you have won the day,’ adding the verse: ‘Though well I know -that thoughts unspoken count more than thoughts expressed, yet -dumb-crambo is not a cheering game to play.’ - -He went on to speak of one trifle or another as it occurred to him, -doing his very best to entertain her; but it was no use. Thinking at -last that silence might after all in this strange creature be merely a -sign of deep emotion he could no longer restrain his curiosity and, -easily pushing back the bolted door, entered the room. Myōbu, seeing -with consternation that he had falsified all her assurances, thought -it better to know nothing of what followed and without turning her -head rushed away to her own apartments. Jijū and the other -ladies-in-waiting had heard so much about Genji and were so anxious to -catch sight of him that they were more than ready to forgive his -uncivil intrusion. Their only fear was that their mistress would be at -a loss how to deal with so unexpected a situation. He did indeed find -her in the last extremity of bashfulness and embarrassment, but under -the circumstances that, thought Genji, was natural. Much was to be -explained by the strict seclusion in which she had been brought up. He -must be patient with her.... - -As his eyes grew used to the dim light he began to see that she was -not at all beautiful. Had she then not one quality at all to justify -all these hopes and schemes? Apparently not one. It was late. What was -the use of staying? Bitterly disappointed he left the house. Myōbu, -intensely curious to know what would happen, had lain awake listening. -She wanted however to keep up the pretence that she had not witnessed -Genji’s intrusion and though she plainly heard him leaving the house -she did not go to see him off or utter a sound of any kind. Stealing -away as quietly as possible he returned to the Nijō-in and lay down -upon his bed. This time at least he thought he was on the right path. -What a disillusionment! And the worst of it was that she was a -princess, a great lady. What a mess he was in! So he lay thinking, -when Tō no Chūjō entered the room. ‘How late you are!’ he cried; ‘I -can easily guess the reason.’ Genji rose: ‘I was so comfortable -sleeping here all alone that I overslept myself,’ he said. ‘Have you -come here from the Palace?’ ‘Yes,’ said Chūjō, ‘I was on my way home. -I heard yesterday that to-day they are choosing the dancers and -musicians for the celebrations of the Emperor’s visit to the Suzaku-in -and I am going home to tell my father of this. I will look in here on -my way back.’ Seeing that Chūjō was in a hurry Genji said that he -would go with him to the Great Hall. He sent at once for his -breakfast, bidding them also serve the guest. Two carriages were drawn -up waiting for them, but they both got into the same one. ‘You still -seem very sleepy,’ said Chūjō in an aggrieved tone; ‘I am sure you -have been doing something interesting that you do not want to tell me -about.’ - -That day he had a number of important duties to perform and was hard -at work in the Palace till nightfall. It did not occur to him till a -very late hour that he ought at least to send the customary letter. It -was raining. Myōbu had only the day before reproached him for using -the princess’s palace as a ‘wayside refuge.’ To-day however he had no -inclination whatever to halt there. - -When hour after hour went by and still no letter came Myōbu began to -feel very sorry for the princess whom she imagined to be suffering -acutely from Genji’s incivility. But in reality the poor lady was -still far too occupied with shame and horror at what had happened the -night before to think of anything else, and when late in the evening -Genji’s note at last arrived she could not understand in the least -what it meant. It began with the poem: ‘Scarce had the evening mist -lifted and revealed the prospect to my sight when the night rain -closed gloomily about me.’ ‘I shall watch with impatience for a sign -that the clouds are breaking,’ the letter continued. The ladies of the -household at once saw with consternation the meaning of this note: -Genji did not intend ever to come again. But they were all agreed that -an answer must be sent, and their mistress was for the time being in -far too overwrought a condition to put brush to paper; so Jijū -(pointing out that it was late and there was no time to be lost) again -came to the rescue: ‘Give a thought to the country folk who wait for -moonlight on this cloudy night, though, while they gaze, so different -their thoughts from yours!’ This she dictated to her mistress -who, under the joint direction of all her ladies, wrote it upon a -piece of paper which had once been purple but was now faded and -shabby. Her writing was coarse and stiff, very mediocre in style, the -upward and downward strokes being of the same thickness. Genji laid it -aside scarcely glancing at it; but he was very much worried by the -situation. How should he avoid hurting her feelings? Such an affair -was certain to get him into trouble of some kind. What was he to do? -He made up his mind that at all costs he must go on seeing her. -Meanwhile, knowing nothing of this decision, the poor lady was very -unhappy. - -That night his father-in-law called for him on the way back from the -Palace and carried him off to the Great Hall. - -Here in preparation for the coming festival all the young princes were -gathered together, and during the days which followed everyone was -busy practising the songs or dances which had been assigned to him. -Never had the Great Hall resounded with such a continual flow of -music. The recorder and the big flute were all the while in full -blast; and even the big drum was rolled out on to the verandah, the -younger princes amusing themselves by experimenting upon it. Genji was -so busy that he had barely time to pay an occasional surreptitious -visit even to his dearest friends, and the autumn passed without his -returning to the Hitachi Palace. The princess could not make it out. - -Just at the time when the music-practices were at their height Myōbu -came to see him. Her account of the princess’s condition was very -distressing. ‘It is sad to witness day by day as I do how the poor -lady suffers from your unkind treatment,’ she said and almost wept as -she told him about it. He was doubly embarrassed. What must Myōbu be -thinking of him since she found out that he had so recklessly -falsified all the assurances of good behaviour that she had made -on his account? And then the princess herself.... He could imagine -what a pathetic figure she must be, dumbly buried in her own -despondent thoughts and questionings. ‘Please make it clear to her’ he -said, ‘that I have been extremely busy; that is really the sole reason -that I have not visited her.’ But he added with a sigh ‘I hope soon to -have a chance of teaching her not to be quite so stiff and shy.’ He -smiled as he said it, and because he was so young and charming Myōbu -somehow felt that despite her indignation she must smile too. At his -age it was inevitable that he should cause a certain amount of -suffering. Suddenly it seemed to her perfectly right that he should do -as he felt inclined without thinking much about the consequences. When -the busy festival time was over he did indeed pay several visits to -the Hitachi Palace, but then followed his adoption of little Murasaki -whose ways so entranced him that he became very irregular even in his -visits to the Sixth Ward;[7] still less had he any inclination, though -he felt as sorry for the princess as ever, to visit that desolate -palace. For a long while he had no desire to probe the secret of her -bashfulness, to drive her into the light of day. But at last the idea -occurred to him that he had perhaps all the while been mistaken. It -was only a vague impression gathered in a room so dark that one could -hardly see one’s hand in front of one’s face. If only he could -persuade her to let him see her properly? But she seemed frightened to -submit herself to the ordeal of daylight. Accordingly one night when -he knew that he should catch her household quite at its ease he crept -in unobserved and peeped through a gap in the door of the women’s -apartments. The princess herself was not visible. There was a very -dilapidated screen-of-honour at the end of the room, but it looked as -if it had not been moved from where it stood for years and years. -Four or five elderly gentlewomen were in the room. They were preparing -their mistress’s supper in Chinese vessels which looked like the -famous ‘royal blue’ ware,[8] but they were much damaged and the food -which had been provided seemed quite unworthy of these precious -dishes. The old ladies soon retired, presumably to have their own -supper. In a closet opening out of the main road he could see a very -chilly-looking lady in an incredibly smoke-stained white dress and -dirty apron tied at the waist. Despite this shabbiness, her hair was -done over a comb in the manner of Court servants in ancient days when -they waited at their master’s table, though it hung down untidily. He -had sometimes seen figures such as this haunting the housekeeper’s -rooms in the Palace, but he had no idea that they could still actually -be seen waiting upon a living person! ‘O dear, O dear,’ cried the lady -in the apron, ‘what a cold winter we are having! It was not worth -living so long only to meet times like these,’ and she shed a tear. -‘If only things had but gone on as they were in the old Prince’s -time!’ she moaned. ‘What a change! No discipline, no authority. To -think that I should have lived to see such days!’ and she quivered -with horror like one who ‘were he a bird would take wing and fly -away.’[9] She went on to pour out such a pitiful tale of things gone -awry that Genji could bear it no longer, and pretending that he had -just arrived tapped at the partition-door. With many exclamations of -surprise the old lady brought a candle and let him in. Unfortunately -Jijū had been chosen with other young persons to wait upon the Vestal -Virgin and was not at home. Her absence made the house seem more -rustic and old-fashioned than ever, and its oddity struck him even -more forcibly than before. - -The melancholy snow was now falling faster and faster. Dark -clouds hung in the sky, the wind blew fierce and wild. The big lamp -had burnt out and it seemed to be no one’s business to light it. He -remembered the terrible night upon which Yūgao had been bewitched. The -house indeed was almost as dilapidated. But it was not quite so large -and was (to Genji’s comfort) at least to some small degree inhabited. -Nevertheless it was a depressing place to spend the night at in such -weather as this. Yet the snow-storm had a beauty and fascination of -its own and it was tiresome that the lady whom he had come to visit -was far too stiff and awkward to join him in appreciating its -wildness. The dawn was just breaking and lifting one of the shutters -with his own hand, he looked out at the snow-covered flower-beds. -Beyond them stretched great fields of snow untrodden by any foot. The -sight was very strange and lovely, and moved by the thought that he -must soon leave it: ‘Come and look how beautiful it is out of doors,’ -he cried to the princess who was in an inner room. ‘It is unkind of -you always to treat me as though I were a stranger.’ Although it was -still dark the light of the snow enabled the ancient gentlewomen who -had now returned to the room to see the freshness and beauty of -Genji’s face. Gazing at him with undisguised wonder and delight, they -cried out to their mistress: ‘Yes, madam, indeed you must come. You -are not behaving as you should. A young lady should be all kindness -and pretty ways.’ Thus admonished, the princess who when told what to -do could never think of any reasons for not doing it, giving her -costume a touch here and there reluctantly crept into the front room. -Genji pretended to be still looking out of the window, but presently -he managed to glance back into the room. His first impression was that -her manner, had it been a little less diffident, would have been -extremely pleasing. What an absurd mistake he had made. She was -certainly very tall as was shown by the length of her back when -she took her seat; he could hardly believe that such a back could -belong to a woman. A moment afterwards he suddenly became aware of her -main defect. It was her nose. He could not help looking at it. It -reminded him of the trunk of Samantabhadra’s[10] steed! Not only was -it amazingly prominent, but (strangest of all) the tip which drooped -downwards a little was tinged with pink, contrasting in the oddest -manner with the rest of her complexion which was of a whiteness that -would have put snow to shame. Her forehead was unusually high, so that -altogether (though this was partly concealed by the forward tilt of -her head) her face must be hugely long. She was very thin, her bones -showing in the most painful manner, particularly her shoulder-bones -which jutted out pitiably above her dress. He was sorry now that he -had exacted from her this distressing exhibition, but so extraordinary -a spectacle did she provide that he could not help continuing to gaze -upon her. In one point at least she yielded nothing to the greatest -beauties of the Capital. Her hair was magnificent; she was wearing it -loose and it hung a foot or more below the skirt of her gown. A -complete description of people’s costumes is apt to be tedious, but as -in stories the first thing that is said about the characters is -invariably _what they wore_, I shall once in a way attempt such a -description. Over a terribly faded bodice of imperial purple she wore -a gown of which the purple had turned definitely black with age. Her -mantle was of sable-skins heavily perfumed with scent. Such a garment -as this mantle was considered very smart several generations ago, but -it struck him as the most extraordinary costume for a comparatively -young girl. However as a matter of fact she looked as though without -this monstrous wrapping she would perish with cold and he could -not help feeling sorry for her. As usual she seemed quite devoid of -conversation and her silence ended by depriving Genji also of the -power of speech. He felt however that he must try again to conquer her -religious muteness and began making a string of casual remarks. -Overcome with embarrassment she hid her face with her sleeve. This -attitude, together with her costume, reminded him so forcibly of queer -pompous old officials whom he had sometimes seen walking at funeral -pace in state processions, hugging their emblems of office to their -breasts, that he could not help laughing. This he felt to be very -rude. Really he was very sorry for her and longing to put a quick end -to her embarrassment he rose to go. ‘Till I began to look after you -there was no one in whom you could possibly have confided. But -henceforward I think you must make up your mind to be frank with me -and tell me all your secrets. Your stern aloofness is very painful to -me,’ and he recited the verse: ‘Already the icicle that hangs from the -eaves is melting in the rays of the morning sun. How comes it that -these drippings to new ice should turn?’ At this she tittered -slightly. Finding her inability to express herself quite unendurable -he left the house. Even in the dim light of early morning he noticed -that the courtyard gate at which his carriage awaited him was shaky on -its posts and much askew; daylight, he was sure, would have revealed -many other signs of dilapidation and neglect. In all the desolate -landscape which stretched monotonously before him under the bleak -light of dawn only the thick mantle of snow which covered the -pine-trees gave a note of comfort and almost of warmth. - -Surely it was such a place as this, sombre as a little village in the -hills, that his friends had thought of on that rainy night when they -had spoken of the gate ‘deep buried in green thickets.’ If only there -were really hidden behind _these_ walls some such exquisite -creature as they had imagined. How patiently, how tenderly he would -court her! He longed for some experience which would bring him respite -from the anguish with which a certain hopeless and illicit passion was -at that time tormenting him. Alas, no one could have been less likely -to bring him the longed-for distraction than the owner of this -romantic mansion. Yet the very fact that she had nothing to recommend -her made it impossible for him to give her up, for it was certain that -no one else would ever take the trouble to visit her. But why, why had -it fallen to him of all people to become her intimate? Had the spirit -of the departed Prince Hitachi, unhappy at the girl’s friendless -plight, chosen him out and led him to her? - -At the side of the road he noticed a little orange-tree almost buried -in snow. He ordered one of his attendants to uncover it. As though -jealous of the attention that the man was paying to its neighbour a -pine-tree near by shook its heavily laden branches, pouring great -billows of snow over his sleeve. Delighted with the scene Genji -suddenly longed for some companion with whom he might share this -pleasure; not necessarily someone who loved such things as he did, but -one who at least responded to them in an ordinary way. - -The gate through which his carriage had to pass in order to leave -the grounds was still locked. When at last the man who kept the key -had been discovered he turned out to be immensely old and feeble. -With him was a big, awkward girl who seemed to be his daughter or -grand-daughter. Her dress looked very grimy in contrast with the new -snow amid which she was standing. She seemed to be suffering very much -from the cold, for she was hugging a little brazier of some kind with -a stick or two of charcoal burning none too brightly in it. The old -man had not the strength to push back the door, and the girl was -dragging at it as well. Taking pity on them one of Genji’s -servants went to their assistance and quickly opened it. Genji -remembered the poem in which Po Chü-i describes the sufferings of -villagers in wintry weather and he murmured the lines ‘The little -children run naked in the cold; the aged shiver for lack of winter -clothes.’ All at once he remembered the chilly appearance which that -unhappy bloom had given to the princess’s face and he could not help -smiling. If ever he were able to show her to Tō no Chūjō, what strange -comparison, he wondered, would Chūjō use concerning it? He remembered -how Chūjō had followed him on the first occasion. Had he continued to -do so? Perhaps even at this minute he was under observation. The -thought irritated him. - -Had her defects been less striking he could not possibly have -continued these distressing visits. But since he had actually seen her -in all her tragic uncouthness pity gained the upper hand, and -henceforward he kept in constant touch with her and showed her every -kindness. In the hope that she would abandon her sables he sent her -presents of silk, satin and quilted stuffs. He also sent thick cloth -such as old people wear, that the old man at the gate might be more -comfortably dressed. Indeed he sent presents to everyone on the estate -from the highest to the lowest. She did not seem to have any objection -to receiving these donations, which under the circumstances was very -convenient as it enabled him for the most part to limit their very -singular friendship to good offices of this kind. - -Utsusemi too, he remembered, had seemed to him far from handsome when -he had peeped at her on the evening of her sudden flight. But she at -least knew how to behave and that saved her plainness from being -obtrusive. It was hard to believe that the princess belonged to a -class so far above that of Utsusemi. It only showed how little these -things have to do with birth or station. For in idle moments he -still regretted the loss of Utsusemi and it rankled in him yet that he -had in the end allowed her unyielding persistency to win the day. - -And so the year drew to its close. One day when he was at his -apartments in the Emperor’s Palace, Myōbu came to see him. He liked to -have her to do his hair and do small commissions for him. He was not -in the least in love with her; but they got on very well together and -he found her conversation so amusing that even when she had no duty to -perform at the Palace he encouraged her to come and see him whenever -she had any news. ‘Something so absurd has happened’ she said, ‘that I -can hardly bring myself to tell you about it ...,’ and she paused -smiling. ‘I can hardly think,’ answered Genji, ‘that there can be -anything which you are frightened of telling to me.’ ‘If it were -connected with my own affairs,’ she said, ‘you know quite well that I -should tell you at once. But this is something quite different. I -really find it very hard to talk about.’ For a long while he could get -nothing out of her, and only after he had scolded her for making so -unnecessary a fuss she at last handed him a letter. It was from the -princess. ‘But this,’ said Genji taking it, ‘is the last thing in the -world that you could have any reason to hide from me.’ She watched -with interest while he read it. It was written on thick paper drenched -with a strong perfume; the characters were bold and firm. With it was -a poem: ‘Because of your hard heart, your hard heart only, the sleeves -of this my Chinese dress are drenched with tears.’ The poem must, he -thought, refer to something not contained in the letter. - -He was considering what this could be, when his eye fell on a clumsy, -old-fashioned clothes-box wrapped in a painted canvas cover. ‘Now’ -said Myōbu, ‘perhaps you understand why I was feeling rather -uncomfortable. You may not believe it, but the princess means you to -wear this jacket on New Year’s Day. I am afraid I cannot take it back -to her; that would be too unkind. But if you like I will keep it for -you and no one else shall see it. Only please, since it was to you -that she sent, just have one look at it before it goes away.’ ‘But I -should hate it to go away,’ said Genji; ‘I think it was so kind of her -to send it.’ It was difficult to know what to say. Her poem was indeed -the most unpleasant jangle of syllables that he had ever encountered. -He now realized that the other poems must have been dictated to her, -perhaps by Jijū or one of the other ladies. And Jijū too it must -surely be who held the princess’s brush and acted as writing-master. -When he considered what her utmost poetic endeavour would be likely to -produce he realized that these absurd verses were probably her -masterpiece and should be prized accordingly. He began to examine the -parcel; Myōbu blushed while she watched him. It was a plain, -old-fashioned, buff-coloured jacket of finely woven material, but -apparently not particularly well cut or stitched. It was indeed a -strange present, and spreading out her letter he wrote something -carelessly in the margin. When Myōbu looked over his shoulder she saw -that he had written the verse: ‘How comes it that with my sleeve I -brushed this saffron-flower[11] that has no loveliness either of shape -or hue?’ - -What, wondered Myōbu, could be the meaning of this outburst against a -flower? At last turning over in her mind the various occasions when -Genji had visited the princess she remembered something[12] which she -had herself noticed one moonlit night, and though she felt the joke -was rather unkind, she could not help being amused. With practised -ease she threw out a verse in which she warned him that in the -eyes of a censorious world even this half-whimsical courtship might -fatally damage his good name. Her impromptu poem was certainly faulty; -but Genji reflected that if the poor princess had even Myōbu’s very -ordinary degree of alertness it would make things much easier; and it -was quite true that to tamper with a lady of such high rank was not -very safe. - -At this point visitors began to arrive. ‘Please put this somewhere out -of sight,’ said Genji pointing to the jacket; ‘could one have believed -that it was possible to be presented with such an object?’ and he -groaned. ‘Oh why ever did I show it to him?’ thought Myōbu. ‘The only -result is that now he will be angry with me as well as with the -princess,’ and in very low spirits she slipped out of his apartments. - -Next day she was in attendance upon the Emperor and while she was -waiting with other gentlewomen in the ladies’ common-room Genji came -up saying: ‘Here you are. The answer to yesterday’s letter. I am -afraid it is rather far-fetched,’ and he flung a note to her. The -curiosity of the other gentlewomen was violently aroused. Genji left -the room humming ‘The Lady of Mikasa Hill,’[13] which naturally amused -Myōbu very much. The other ladies wanted to know why the prince was -laughing to himself. Was there some joke...? ‘Oh, no,’ said Myōbu; ‘I -think it was only that he had noticed someone whose nose was a little -red with the morning cold. The song he hummed was surely very -appropriate.’ ‘I think it was very silly,’ said one of the ladies. -‘There is no one here to-day with a red nose. He must be thinking of -Lady Sakon or Higo no Uneme.’ They were completely mystified. When -Myōbu presented Genji’s reply, the ladies of the Hitachi Palace -gathered round her to admire it. It was written negligently on plain -white paper but was none the less very elegant. ‘Does your gift of a -garment mean that you wish a greater distance than ever to be kept -between us?’[14] - -On the evening of the last day of the year he sent back the box which -had contained his jacket, putting into it a court dress which had -formerly been presented to him, a dress of woven stuff dyed -grape-colour and various stuffs of yellow-rose colour and the like. -The box was brought by Myōbu. The princess’s ancient gentlewomen -realized that Genji did not approve of their mistress’s taste in -colours and wished to give her a lesson. ‘Yes,’ they said grudgingly, -‘that’s a fine deep red while its new, but just think how it will -fade. And in Madam’s poem too, I am sure, there was much more good -sense. In his answer he only tries to be smart.’ The princess shared -their good opinion of her poem. It had cost her a great deal of effort -and before she sent it she had been careful to copy it into her -note-book. - -Then came the New Year’s Day celebrations; and this year there was -also to be the New Year’s mumming, a band of young noblemen going -round dancing and singing in various parts of the Palace. After the -festival of the White Horse on the seventh day Genji left the -Emperor’s presence at nightfall and went to his own apartments in the -Palace as though intending to stay the night there. But later he -adjourned to the Hitachi Palace which had on this occasion a less -forbidding appearance than usual. Even the princess was rather more -ordinary and amenable. He was hoping that like the season she too had -begun anew, when he saw that sunlight was coming into the room. After -hesitating for a while, he got up and went out into the front room. The -double doors at the end of the eastern wing were wide open, and -the roof of the verandah having fallen in, the sunshine poured -straight into the house. A little snow was still falling and its -brightness made the morning light yet more exquisitely brilliant and -sparkling. She watched a servant helping him into his cloak. She was -lying half out of the bed, her head hanging a little downwards and her -hair falling in great waves to the floor. Pleased with the sight he -began to wonder whether she would not one day outgrow her plainness. -He began to close the door of the women’s apartments, but suddenly -feeling that he owed her amends for the harsh opinion of her -appearance which he had formed before, he did not quite shut the door, -but bringing a low stool towards it sat there putting his disordered -head-dress to rights. One of the maids brought him an incredibly -battered mirror-stand, Chinese combs, a box of toilet articles and -other things. It amused him to discover that in this household of -women a little male gear still survived, even in so decrepit a state. - -He noticed that the princess, who was now up and dressed, was looking -quite fashionable. She was in fact wearing the clothes which he had -sent her before the New Year, but he did not at first recognize them. -He began however to have a vague idea that her mantle, with its rather -conspicuous pattern, was very like one of the things he had given her. -‘I do hope,’ he said presently, ‘that this year you will be a little -more conversational. I await the day when you will unbend a little -towards me more eagerly than the poet longs for the first nightingale. -If only like the year that has changed you too would begin anew!’ Her -face brightened. She had thought of a remark and trembling from head -to foot with a tremendous effort she brought out the quotation ‘When -plovers chirp and all things grow anew.’ ‘Splendid,’ said Genji, ‘This -is a sign that the new year has indeed begun’ and smiling -encouragingly at her he left the house, she following him with her -eyes from the couch on which she lay. Her face as usual was half -covered by her arm; but the unfortunate flower still bloomed -conspicuously. ‘Poor thing, she really _is_ very ugly,’ thought Genji -in despair. - -When he returned to the Nijō-in he found Murasaki waiting for him. She -was growing up as handsome a girl as one could wish, and promised well -for the future. She was wearing a plain close-fitting dress of cherry -colour; above all, the unstudied grace and ease of her movements -charmed and delighted him as he watched her come to meet him. In -accordance with the wishes of her old-fashioned grandmother her teeth -were not blackened, but her eyebrows were delicately touched with -stain. ‘Why, when I might be playing with a beautiful child, do I -spend my time with an ugly woman? ‘Genji kept on asking himself in -bewilderment while they sat together playing with her dolls. Next she -began to draw pictures and colour them. After she had painted all -sorts of queer and amusing things, ‘Now I am going to do a picture for -you,’ said Genji and drawing a lady with very long hair he put a dab -of red on her nose. Even in a picture, he thought pausing to look at -the effect, it gave one a most uncomfortable feeling. He went and -looked at himself in the mirror and as though dissatisfied with his -own fresh complexion he suddenly put on his own nose a dab of red such -as he had given to the lady in the picture. He looked at himself in -the mirror. His handsome face had in an instant become ridiculous and -repulsive. At first the child laughed. ‘Should you go on liking me if -I were always as ugly as this?’ he asked. Suddenly she began to be -afraid that the paint would not come off. ‘Oh why did you do it?’ she -cried. ‘How horrible!’ He pretended to rub it without effect. ‘No,’ he -said ruefully, ‘it will not come off. What a sad end to our game! I -wonder what the Emperor will say when I go back to the Palace?’ -He said it so seriously that she became very unhappy, and longing to -cure him dipped a piece of thick soft paper in the water-jug which -stood by his writing-things, and began scrubbing at his nose. ‘Take -care,’ he cried laughing, ‘that you do not serve me as Heichū[15] was -treated by his lady. I would rather have a red nose than a black one.’ -So they passed their time, making the prettiest couple. - -In the gentle spring sunshine the trees were already shimmering with a -haze of new-grown buds. Among them it was the plum-trees that gave the -surest promise, for already their blossoms were uncurling, like lips -parted in a faint smile. Earliest of them all was a red plum that grew -beside the covered steps. It was in full colour. ‘Though fair the tree -on which it blooms, this red flower fills me with a strange -misgiving,’[16] sang Genji with a deep sigh. - -We shall see in the next chapter what happened in the end to all these -people. - -[1] The events of this chapter are synchronous with those of the last. - -[2] Wine, zithern and song—in allusion to a poem by Po Chü-i. - -[3] Evidently a quotation. - -[4] Chūjō’s child by Yūgao. - -[5] Used to scent clothes with. - -[6] The bell which the Zen-master strikes when it is time for his pupils -to fall into silent meditation. - -[7] To Lady Rokujō. - -[8] _Pi-sē_. See Hetherington, _Early Ceramic Wares of China_, -pp. 71–73. - -[9] _Manyōshū_, 893. - -[10]The Bodhisattva Samantabhadra rides on a white elephant with a red -trunk. - -[11] _Suyetsumuhana_, by which name, the princess is subsequently -alluded to in the story. - -[12] I.e. the redness of the princess’s nose. - -[13] A popular song about a lady who suffered from the same defect as -the princess. - -[14] Genji’s poem is an allusion to a well-known _uta_ which runs: -‘Must we who once would not allow even the thickness of a garment to -part us be now far from each other for whole nights on end?’ - -[15] He used to splash his cheeks with water from a little bottle in -order that she might think he was weeping at her unkindness. She -exposed this device by mixing ink with the water. - -[16] The reference of course is to the princess. ‘Though fair the -tree’ refers to her high birth. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES - - -The imperial visit to the Red Sparrow Court was to take place on the -tenth day of the Godless Month. It was to be a more magnificent sight -this year than it had ever been before and the ladies of the Palace -were very disappointed that they could not be present.[1] The Emperor -too could not bear that Fujitsubo should miss the spectacle, and he -decided to hold a grand rehearsal in the Palace. Prince Genji danced -the ‘Waves of the Blue Sea.’ Tō no Chūjō was his partner; but though -both in skill and beauty he far surpassed the common run of -performers, yet beside Genji he seemed like a mountain fir growing -beside a cherry-tree in bloom. There was a wonderful moment when the -rays of the setting sun fell upon him and the music grew suddenly -louder. Never had the onlookers seen feet tread so delicately nor head -so exquisitely poised; and in the song which follows the first -movement of the dance his voice was sweet as that of Kalavinka[2] -whose music is Buddha’s Law. So moving and beautiful was this dance -that at the end of it the Emperor’s eyes were wet, and all the princes -and great gentlemen wept aloud. When the song was over and, -straightening his long dancer’s sleeves, he stood waiting for the -music to begin again and at last the more lively tune of the second -movement struck up,—then indeed, with his flushed and eager face, -he merited more than ever his name of Genji the Shining One. The -Princess Kōkiden[3] did not at all like to see her step-son’s beauty -arousing so much enthusiasm and she said sarcastically ‘He is -altogether too beautiful. Presently we shall have a god coming down -from the sky to fetch him away.’[4] Her young waiting-ladies noticed -the spiteful tone in which the remark was made and felt somewhat -embarrassed. As for Fujitsubo, she kept on telling herself that were -it not for the guilty secret which was shared between them the dance -she was now witnessing would be filling her with wonder and delight. -As it was, she sat as though in a dream, hardly knowing what went on -around her. - -Now she was back in her own room. The Emperor was with her. ‘At -to-day’s rehearsal’ he said, ‘The “Waves of the Blue Sea” went -perfectly.’ Then, noticing that she made no response, ‘What did you -think of it?’ ‘Yes, it was very good,’ she managed to say at last. -‘The partner did not seem to me bad either,’ he went on; ‘there is -always something about the way a gentleman moves and uses his hands -which distinguishes his dancing from that of professionals. Some of -our crack dancing-masters have certainly made very clever performers -of their own children; but they never have the same freshness, the -same charm as the young people of our class. They expended so much -effort on the rehearsal that I am afraid the festival itself may seem -a very poor affair. No doubt they took all this trouble because they -knew that you were here at the rehearsal and would not see the real -performance.’ - -Next morning she received a letter from Genji: ‘What of the rehearsal? -How little the people who watched me knew of the turmoil that all -the while was seething in my brain!’ And to this he added the -poem: ‘When sick with love I yet sprang to my feet and capered -with the rest, knew you what meant the fevered waving of my long -dancing-sleeve?’ Next he enjoined secrecy and prudence upon her, and -so his letter ended. Her answer showed that despite her agitation she -had not been wholly insensible to what had fascinated all other eyes: -‘Though from far off a man of China waved his long dancing-sleeves, -yet did his every motion fill my heart with wonder and delight.’ - -To receive such a letter from her was indeed a surprise. It charmed -him that her knowledge should extend even to the Court customs of a -land beyond the sea. Already there was a regal note in her words. Yes, -that was the end to which she was destined. Smiling to himself with -pleasure he spread the letter out before him, grasping it tightly in -both hands as a priest holds the holy book, and gazed at it for a long -while. - -On the day of the festival the royal princes and all the great -gentlemen of the Court were in attendance. Even the Heir Apparent went -with the procession. After the music-boats had rowed round the lake -dance upon dance was performed, both Korean and of the land beyond the -sea. The whole valley resounded with the noise of music and drums. The -Emperor insisted upon treating Genji’s performance at the rehearsal as -a kind of miracle or religious portent, and ordered special services -to be read in every temple. Most people thought this step quite -reasonable; but Princess Kōkiden said crossly that she saw no -necessity for it. The Ring[5] was by the Emperor’s order composed -indifferently of commoners and noblemen chosen out of the whole realm -for their skill and grace. The two Masters of Ceremony, Sayemon no -Kami and Uyemon no Kami, were in charge of the left and right -wings of the orchestra. Dancing-masters and others were entrusted with -the task of seeking out performers of unusual merit and training them -for the festival in their own houses. When at last under the red -leafage of tall autumn trees forty men stood circle-wise with their -flutes and to the music that they made a strong wind from the hills -sweeping the pine-woods added its fierce harmonies, while from amid a -wreckage of whirling and scattered leaves the Dance of the Blue Waves -suddenly broke out in all its glittering splendour,—a rapture seized -the onlookers that was akin to fear. - -The maple-wreath that Genji wore had suffered in the wind and thinking -that the few red leaves which clung to it had a desolate air the -Minister of the Left[6] plucked a bunch of chrysanthemums from among -those that grew before the Emperor’s seat and twined them in the -dancer’s wreath. - -At sunset the sky clouded over and it looked like rain. But even the -weather seemed conscious that such sights as this would not for a long -while be seen again, and till all was over not a drop fell. His Exit -Dance, crowned as he was with this unspeakably beautiful wreath of -many coloured flowers, was even more astonishing than that wonderful -moment on the day of the rehearsal and seemed to the thrilled -onlookers like the vision of another world. Humble and ignorant folk -sitting afar on tree-roots or beneath some rock, or half-buried in -deep banks of fallen leaves—few were so hardened that they did not -shed a tear. Next came the ‘Autumn Wind’ danced by Lady Jōkyōden’s -son[7] who was still a mere child. The remaining performances -attracted little attention, for the audience had had its fill of -wonders and felt that whatever followed could but spoil the -recollection of what had gone before. - -That night Genji was promoted to the First Class of the Third Rank and -Tō no Chūjō was promoted to intermediate standing between the First -and Second Classes of the Fourth Rank. The gentlemen of the court were -all promoted one rank. But though they celebrated their good fortune -with the usual rejoicings they were well aware that they had only been -dragged in Genji’s wake and wondered how it was that their destinies -had come to be linked in this curious way with those of the prince who -had brought them this unexpected piece of good fortune. - -Fujitsubo now retired to her own house and Genji, waiting about for a -chance of visiting her, was seldom at the Great Hall and was -consequently in very ill odour there. It was soon after this that he -brought the child Murasaki to live with him. Aoi heard a rumour of -this, but it reached her merely in the form that someone was living -with him at his palace and she did not know that it was a child. Under -these circumstances it was quite natural that she should feel much -aggrieved. But if only she had flown into an honest passion and abused -him for it as most people would have done, he would have told her -everything and put matters right. As it was, she only redoubled her -icy aloofness and thus led him to seek those very distractions of -which it was intended as a rebuke. Not only was her beauty so flawless -that it could not fail to win his admiration, but also the mere fact -that he had known her since so long ago, before all the rest, made him -feel towards her a tenderness of which she seemed quite unaware. He -was convinced however that her nature was not at bottom narrow and -vindictive, and this gave him some hope that she would one day relent. - -Meanwhile as he got to know little Murasaki better he became the more -content both with her appearance and her character. She at least gave -him her whole heart. For the present he did not intend to reveal her -identity even to the servants in his own palace. She continued to -use the somewhat outlying western wing which had now been put into -excellent order, and here Genji constantly came to see her. He gave -her all kinds of lessons, writing exercises for her to copy and -treating her in every way as though she were a little daughter who had -been brought up by foster-parents, but had now come to live with him. -He chose her servants with great care and gave orders that they should -do everything in their power to make her comfortable; but no one -except Koremitsu knew who the child was or how she came to be living -there. Nor had her father discovered what had become of her. - -The little girl still sometimes thought of the past and then she would -feel for a while very lonely without her grandmother. When Genji was -there she forgot her sorrow; but in the evening he was very seldom at -home. She was sorry that he was so busy and when he hurried every -evening to some strange place or other she missed him terribly; but -she was never angry with him. Sometimes for two or three days on end -he would be at the Palace or the Great Hall and when he returned he -would find her very tearful and depressed. Then he felt just as though -he were neglecting some child of his own, whose mother had died and -left it in his keeping, and for a while he grew uneasy about his night -excursions. - -The priest was puzzled when he heard that Genji had taken Murasaki to -live with him, but saw no harm in it and was delighted that she should -be so well cared for. He was gratified too when Genji begged that the -services in the dead nun’s memory should be celebrated with special -pomp and magnificence. - -When he went to Fujitsubo’s palace, anxious to see for himself whether -she was keeping her health, he was met by a posse of waiting-women -(Myōbus, Chūnagons, Nakatsukasas and the like) and Fujitsubo -herself showed, to his great disappointment, no sign of appearing. -They gave a good account of her, which somewhat allayed his anxiety, -and had passed on to general gossip when it was announced that Prince -Hyōbukyō[8] had arrived. Genji at once went out to speak to him. This -time Genji thought him extremely handsome and there was a softness, a -caressing quality in his manner (Genji was watching him more closely -than he knew) which was feminine enough to make his connection with -Fujitsubo and Murasaki at once uppermost in the mind of his observer. -It was, then, as the brother of the one and the father of the other -that the new-comer at once created a feeling of intimacy, and they had -a long conversation. Hyōbukyō could not fail to notice that Genji was -suddenly treating him with an affection which he had never displayed -before. He was naturally very much gratified, not realizing that Genji -had now, in a sense, become his son-in-law. It was getting late and -Hyōbukyō was about to join his sister in another room. It was with -bitterness that Genji remembered how long ago the Emperor had brought -her to play with him. In those days he ran in and out of her room just -as he chose; now he could not address her save in precarious messages. -She was as inaccessible, as remote as one person conceivably could be -from another, and finding the situation intolerable, he said politely -to Prince Hyōbukyō: ‘I wish I saw you more often; unless there is some -special reason for seeing people, I am lazy about it. But if you ever -felt inclined to send for me, I should be delighted ...’ and he -hurried away. - -Ōmyōbu, the gentlewoman who had contrived Genji’s meeting with -Fujitsubo, seeing her mistress relapse into a steady gloom and vexed -at her belated caution was all the time doing her best to bring the -lovers together again; but days and months went by and still all -her efforts were in vain; while they, poor souls, strove desperately -to put away from them this love that was a perpetual disaster. - -At Genji’s palace Shōnagon, the little girl’s nurse, finding herself -in a world of unimagined luxuries and amenities, could only attribute -this good fortune to the success of the late nun’s prayers. The Lord -Buddha to whose protection the dying lady had so fervently recommended -her grand-daughter had indeed made handsome provision for her. There -were of course certain disadvantages. The haughtiness of Aoi was not -only in itself to be feared, but it seemed to have the consequence of -driving Prince Genji to seek distractions right and left, which would -be very unpleasant for the little princess so soon as she was old -enough to realize it. Yet so strong a preference did he show for the -child’s company that Shōnagon did not altogether lose heart. - -It being then three months since her grandmother died Murasaki came -out of mourning at the end of the Godless Month. But it was thought -proper since she was to be brought up as an orphan that she should -still avoid patterned stuffs, and she wore a little tunic of plain -red, brown or yellow, in which she nevertheless looked very smart and -gay. - -He came to have a look at her before going off to the New Year’s Day -reception at Court. ‘From to-day onwards you are a grown-up lady,’ he -said, and as he stood smiling at her he looked so charming and -friendly that she could not bear him to go, and hoping that he would -stay and play with her a little while longer she got out her toys. -There was a doll’s kitchen only three feet high but fitted out with -all the proper utensils, and a whole collection of little houses which -Genji had made for her. Now she had got them all spread out over the -floor so that it was difficult to move without treading on them. -‘Little Inu broke them yesterday,’ she explained ‘when he was -pretending to drive out the Old Year’s demons, and I am mending them.’ -She was evidently in great trouble. ‘What a tiresome child he is,’ -said Genji. ‘I will get them mended for you. Come, you must not cry on -New Year’s Day,’ and he went out. Many of the servants had collected -at the end of the corridor to see him starting out for the Court in -all his splendour. Murasaki too went out and watched him. When she -came back she put a grand dress on one of her dolls and did a -performance with it which she called ‘Prince Genji visiting the -Emperor.’ ‘This year,’ said Shōnagon, looking on with disapproval, -‘you must really try not to be such a baby. It is time little girls -stopped playing with dolls when they are ten years old, and now that -you have got a kind gentleman wanting to be your husband you ought to -try and show him that you can behave like a nice little grown-up lady -or he will get tired of waiting.’ She said this because she thought -that it must be painful for Genji to see the child still so intent -upon her games and be thus reminded that she was a mere baby. Her -admonishment had the effect of making Murasaki for the first time -aware that Genji was to be her husband. She knew all about husbands. -Many of the maid-servants had them, but such ugly ones! She was very -glad that hers was so much younger and handsomer. Nevertheless the -mere fact that she thought about the matter at all showed that she was -beginning to grow up a little. Her childish ways and appearance were -by no means so great a misfortune as Shōnagon supposed, for they went -a long way towards allaying the suspicions which the child’s presence -might otherwise have aroused in Genji’s somewhat puzzled household. - -When he returned from Court he went straight to the Great Hall. Aoi -was as perfect as ever, and just as unfriendly. This never failed to -wound Genji. ‘If only you had changed with the New Year, had -become a little less cold and forbidding, how happy I should be!’ he -exclaimed. But she had heard that someone was living with him and had -at once made up her mind that she herself had been utterly supplanted -and put aside. Hence she was more sullen than ever; but he pretended -not to notice it and by his gaiety and gentleness at last induced -her to answer when he spoke. Was it her being four years older -than him that made her seem so unapproachable, so exasperatingly -well-regulated? But that was not fair. What fault could he possibly -find in her? She was perfect in every respect and he realized that if -she was sometimes out of humour this was solely the result of his own -irregularities. She was after all the daughter of a Minister, and of -the Minister who above all others enjoyed the greatest influence and -esteem. She was the only child of the Emperor’s sister and had been -brought up with a full sense of her own dignity and importance. The -least slight, the merest hint of disrespect came to her as a complete -surprise. To Genji all these pretensions naturally seemed somewhat -exaggerated and his failure to make allowances for them increased her -hostility. - -Aoi’s father was vexed by Genji’s seeming fickleness, but so soon as -he was with him he forgot all his grievances and was always extremely -nice to him. When Genji was leaving next day his father-in-law came to -his room and helped him to dress, bringing in his own hands a belt -which was an heirloom famous far and wide. He pulled straight the back -of Genji’s robe which had become a little crumpled, and indeed short -of bringing him his shoes performed in the friendliest way every -possible small service. ‘This,’ said Genji handing back the belt, ‘is -for Imperial banquets or other great occasions of that kind.’ ‘I have -others much more valuable,’ said the Minister, ‘which I will give you -for the Imperial banquets. This one is not of much account save -that the workmanship of it is rather unusual,’ and despite Genji’s -protests he insisted upon buckling it round him. The performance of -such services was his principal interest in life. What did it matter -if Genji was rather irregular in his visits? To have so agreeable a -young man going in and out of one’s house at all was the greatest -pleasure he could imagine. - -Genji did not pay many New Year’s visits. First he went to the -Emperor, then the Heir Apparent and the Ex-Emperor, and after that to -Princess Fujitsubo’s house in the Third Ward. As they saw him enter -the servants of the house noticed how much he had grown and altered in -the last year. ‘Look how he has filled out,’ they said, ‘even since -his last visit!’ Of the Princess herself he was only allowed a distant -glimpse. It gave him many forebodings. Her child had been expected in -the twelfth month and her condition was now causing some anxiety. That -it would at any rate be born some time during the first weeks of the -New Year was confidently assumed by her own people and had been stated -at Court. But the first month went by and still nothing happened. It -began to be rumoured that she was suffering from some kind of -possession or delusion. She herself grew very depressed; she felt -certain that when the event at last happened she would not survive it -and she worried so much about herself that she became seriously ill. -The delay made Genji more certain than ever of his own responsibility -and he arranged secretly for prayers on her behalf to be said in all -the great temples. He had already become firmly convinced that -whatever might happen concerning the child Fujitsubo was herself -utterly doomed when he heard that about the tenth day of the second -month she had successfully given birth to a boy. The news brought -great satisfaction both to the Emperor and the whole court. - -The Emperor’s fervent prayers for her life and for that of a child -which she knew was not his, distressed and embarrassed her; whereas, -when the maliciously gloomy prognostications of Kōkiden and the rest -were brought to her notice, she was at once filled with a perverse -desire to disappoint their hopes and make them look ridiculous in the -eyes of those to whom they had confided their forebodings. By a great -effort of will she threw off the despair which had been weighing down -upon her and began little by little to recover her usual vigour. - -The Emperor was impatient to see Fujitsubo’s child and so too (though -he was forced to conceal his interest in the matter) was Genji -himself. Accordingly he went to her palace when there were not many -people about and sent in a note offering as the Emperor was in such a -state of impatience to see the child and etiquette forbade him to do -so for several weeks, to look at the child himself and report upon its -appearance to the Emperor. She replied that she would rather he saw it -on a day when it was less peevish; but in reality her refusal had -nothing to do with the state of the child’s temper; she could not bear -the idea of his seeing it at all. Already it bore an astonishing -resemblance to him; of that she was convinced. Always there lurked in -her heart the torturing demon of fear. Soon others would see the child -and instantly know with absolute certainty the secret of her swift -transgression. What charity towards such a crime as this would a world -have that gossips if a single hair is awry? Such thoughts continually -tormented her and she again became weary of her life. - -From time to time he saw Ōmyōbu, but though he still implored her to -arrange a meeting none of his many arguments availed him. He also -pestered her with so many questions about the child that she exclaimed -at last: ‘Why do you go on plaguing me like this? You will be -seeing him for yourself soon, when he is shown at Court.’ But though -she spoke impatiently she knew quite well what he was suffering and -felt for him deeply. The matter was not one which he could discuss -except with Fujitsubo herself, and it was impossible to see her. Would -he indeed ever again see her alone or communicate with her save -through notes and messengers? And half-weeping with despair he recited -the verse: ‘What guilty intercourse must ours have been in some life -long ago, that now so cruel a barrier should be set between us?’ -Ōmyōbu seeing that it cost her mistress a great struggle to do without -him was at pains not to dismiss him too unkindly and answered with the -verse: ‘Should you see the child my lady would be in torment; and -because you have not seen it you are full of lamentations. Truly have -children been called a black darkness that leads the parents’ heart -astray!’ And coming closer she whispered to him ‘Poor souls, it is a -hard fate that has overtaken you both.’ Thus many times and again he -returned to his house desperate. Fujitsubo meanwhile, fearing lest -Genji’s continual visits should attract notice, began to suspect that -Ōmyōbu was secretly encouraging him and no longer felt the same -affection for her. She did not want this to be noticed and tried to -treat her just as usual; but her irritation was bound sometimes to -betray itself and Ōmyōbu, feeling that her mistress was estranged from -her and at a loss to find any reason for it, was very miserable. - -It was not till its fourth month that the child was brought to the -Palace. It was large for its age and had already begun to take a great -interest in what went on around it. Its extraordinary resemblance to -Genji was not remarked upon by the Emperor who had an idea that -handsome children were all very much alike at that age. He became -intensely devoted to the child and lavished every kind of care and -attention upon it. For Genji himself he had always had so great a -partiality that, had it not been for popular opposition, he would -certainly have installed him as Heir Apparent. That he had not been -able to do so constantly distressed him. To have produced so -magnificent a son and be obliged to watch him growing up a mere -nobleman had always been galling to him. Now in his old age a son had -been born to him who promised to be equally handsome and had not the -tiresome disadvantage of a plebeian mother, and upon this flawless -pearl he expended his whole affection. The mother saw little chance of -this rapture continuing and was all this while in a state of agonized -apprehension. - -One day, when as he had been wont to do before, Genji was making music -for her at the Emperor’s command, His Majesty took the child in his -arms saying to Genji: ‘I have had many children, but you were the only -other one that I ever behaved about in this fashion. It may be my -fancy, but it seems to me this child is exactly like what you were at -the same age. However, I suppose all babies are very much alike while -they are as small as this,’ and he looked at the fine child with -admiration. A succession of violent emotions—terror, shame, pride and -love—passed through Genji’s breast while these words were being -spoken, and were reflected in his rapidly changing colour. He was -almost in tears. The child looked so exquisitely beautiful as it lay -crowing to itself and smiling that, hideous as the situation was, -Genji could not help feeling glad it was thought to be like him. -Fujitsubo meanwhile was in a state of embarrassment and agitation so -painful that a cold sweat broke out upon her while she sat by. For -Genji this jarring of opposite emotions was too much to be borne and -he went home. Here he lay tossing on his bed and, unable to -distract himself, he determined after a while to go to the Great Hall. -As he passed by the flower-beds in front of his house he noticed that -a faint tinge of green was already filming the bushes and under them -the _tokonatsu_[9] were already in bloom. He plucked one and sent it -to Ōmyōbu with a long letter and an acrostic poem in which he said -that he was touched by the likeness of this flower to the child, but -also hinted that he was perturbed by the child’s likeness to himself. -‘In this flower,’ he continued despondently, ‘I had hoped to see your -beauty enshrined. But now I know that being mine yet not mine it can -bring me no comfort to look upon it.’ After waiting a little while -till a favourable moment should arise Ōmyōbu showed her mistress the -letter, saying with a sigh ‘I fear that your answer will be but dust -to the petals of this thirsting flower.’ But Fujitsubo, in whose heart -also the new spring was awakening a host of tender thoughts, wrote in -answer the poem: ‘Though it alone be the cause that these poor sleeves -are wet with dew, yet goes my heart still with it, this child-flower -of Yamato Land.’ This was all and it was roughly scribbled in a faint -hand, but it was a comfort to Ōmyōbu to have even such a message as -this to bring back. Genji knew quite well that it could lead to -nothing. How many times had she sent him such messages before! Yet as -he lay dejectedly gazing at the note, the mere sight of her -handwriting soon stirred in him a frenzy of unreasoning excitement and -delight. For a while he lay restlessly tossing on his bed. At last -unable to remain any longer inactive he sprang up and went, as he had -so often done before, to the western wing to seek distraction from the -agitated thoughts which pursued him. He came towards the women’s -apartments with his hair loose upon his shoulders, wearing a queer -dressing-gown and, in order to amuse Murasaki, playing a tune on -his flute as he walked. He peeped in at the door. She looked as she -lay there for all the world like the fresh dewy flower that he had so -recently plucked. She was growing a little bit spoilt and having heard -some while ago that he had returned from Court she was rather cross -with him for not coming to see her at once. She did not run to meet -him as she usually did, but lay with her head turned away. He called -to her from the far side of the room to get up and come to him, but -she did not stir. Suddenly he heard that she was murmuring to herself -the lines ‘Like a sea-flower that the waters have covered when a great -tide mounts the shore.’ They were from an old poem[10] that he had -taught her, in which a lady complains that she is neglected by her -lover. She looked bewitching as she lay with her face half-sullenly, -half-coquettishly buried in her sleeve. ‘How naughty,’ he cried. -‘Really you are becoming too witty. But if you saw me more often -perhaps you would grow tired of me.’ Then he sent for his zithern and -asked her to play to him. But it was a big Chinese instrument[11] with -thirteen strings; the five slender strings in the middle embarrassed -her and she could not get the full sound out of them. Taking it from -her he shifted the bridge, and tuning it to a lower pitch played a few -chords upon it and bade her try again. Her sullen mood was over. She -began to play very prettily; sometimes, when there was a gap too long -for one small hand to stretch, helping herself out so adroitly with -the other hand that Genji was completely captivated and taking up his -flute taught her a number of new tunes. She was very quick and grasped -the most complicated rhythms at a single hearing. She had indeed in -music as in all else just those talents with which it most delighted -him that she should be endowed. When he played the Hosoroguseri (which -in spite of its absurd name is an excellent tune) she accompanied -him though with a childish touch, yet in perfect time. - -The great lamp was brought in and they began looking at pictures -together. But Genji was going out that night. Already his attendants -were assembled in the courtyard outside. One of them was saying that a -storm was coming on. He ought not to wait any longer. Again Murasaki -was unhappy. She was not looking at the pictures, but sat with her -head on her hands staring despondently at the floor. Stroking the -lovely hair that had fallen forward across her lap Genji asked her if -she missed him when he was away. She nodded. ‘I am just the same,’ he -said. ‘If I miss seeing you for a single day I am terribly unhappy. -But you are only a little girl and I know that whatever I do you will -not think harsh thoughts about me; while the lady that I go to see is -very jealous and angry so that it would break her heart if I were to -stay with you too long. But I do not at all like being there and that -is why I just go for a little while like this. When you are grown up -of course I shall never go away at all. I only go now because if I did -not she would be so terribly angry with me that I might very likely -die[12] and then there would be no one to love you and take care of -you at all.’ He had told her all he could, but still she was offended -and would not answer a word. At last he took her on his knee and here -to his great embarrassment she fell asleep. ‘It is too late to go out -now,’ he said after a while, turning to the gentlewomen who were in -attendance. They rose and went to fetch his supper. He roused the -child. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I did not go out after all.’ She was happy -once more and they went to supper together. She liked the queer, -irregular meal, but when it was over she began again to watch him -uneasily. ‘If you are really not going out,’ she said, ‘why do -you not go to sleep at once?’ Leaving her at such a moment to go back -to his room he felt all the reluctance of one who is setting out upon -a long and perilous journey. - -It constantly happened that at the last minute he thus decided to stay -with her. It was natural that some report of his new pre-occupation -should leak out into the world and be passed on to the Great Hall. -‘Who can it be?’ said one of Aoi’s ladies. ‘It is really the most -inexplicable business. How can he have suddenly become entirely -wrapped up in someone whom we had never heard the existence of before? -It cannot in any case be a person of much breeding or self-respect. It -is probably some girl employed at the Palace whom he has taken to live -with him in order that the affair may be hushed up. No doubt he is -circulating the story that she is a child merely in order to put us -off the scent.’ And this opinion was shared by the rest. - -The Emperor too had heard that there was someone living with Genji and -thought it a great pity. ‘You are treating the Minister very badly,’ -he said. ‘He has shown the greatest possible devotion to you ever -since you were a mere baby and now that you are old enough to know -better you behave like this towards him and his family! It is really -most ungrateful.’ - -Genji listened respectfully, but made no reply. The Emperor began to -fear that his marriage with Aoi had proved a very unhappy one and was -sorry that he had arranged it. ‘I do not understand you,’ he said. -‘You seem to have no taste for gallantry and do not, so far as I can -see, take the slightest interest in any of the ladies-in-waiting whom -one might expect you to find attractive, nor do you bother yourself -about the various beauties who in one part of the town or another are -now in request; but instead you must needs pick up some creature from -no one knows where and wound the feelings of others by keeping -her as your mistress!’ - -Though he was now getting on in years the Emperor had himself by no -means ceased to be interested in such matters. He had always seen to -it that his ladies-in-waiting and palace-servants should be remarkable -both for their looks and their intelligence, and it was a time when -the Court was full of interesting women. There were few among them -whom Genji could not by the slightest word or gesture have made his -own. But, perhaps because he saw too much of them, he did not find -them in the least attractive. Suspecting this, they would occasionally -experiment upon him with some frivolous remark. He answered so staidly -that they saw a flirtation would be impossible and some of them came -to the conclusion that he was rather a dull, prudish young man. - -There was an elderly lady-of-the-bedchamber who, though she was an -excellent creature in every other way and was very much liked and -respected, was an outrageous flirt. It astonished Genji that despite -her advancing years she showed no sign of reforming her reckless and -fantastic behaviour. Curious to see how she would take it he one day -came up and began joking with her. She appeared to be quite -unconscious of the disparity between their ages and at once counted -him as an admirer. Slightly alarmed, he nevertheless found her company -rather agreeable and often talked with her. But, chiefly because he -was frightened of being laughed at if anyone found out, he refused to -become her lover, and this she very much resented. One day she was -dressing the Emperor’s hair. When this was over his Majesty sent for -his valets and went with them into another room. Genji and the elderly -lady were left alone together. She was fuller than ever of languishing -airs and poses, and her costume was to the last degree stylish and -elaborate. ‘Poor creature,’ he thought, ‘How little difference it -all makes!’ and he was passing her on his way out of the room when -suddenly the temptation to give a tug at her dress became -irresistible. She glanced swiftly round, eyeing him above the rim of a -marvellously painted summer-fan. The eyelids beneath which she ogled -at him were blackened and sunken; wisps of hair projected untidily -around her forehead. There was something singularly inappropriate -about this gawdy, coquettish fan. Handing her his own instead, he took -it from her and examined it. On paper coated with a red so thick and -lustrous that you could see yourself reflected in it a forest of tall -trees was painted in gold. At the side of this design, in a hand which -though out-of-date was not lacking in distinction was written the poem -about the Forest of Oaraki.[13] He made no doubt that the owner of the -fan had written it in allusion to her own advancing years and was -expecting him to make a gallant reply. Turning over in his mind how -best to divert the extravagant ardour of this strange creature he -could, to his own amusement, think only of another poem[14] about the -same forest; but to this it would have been ill-bred to allude. He was -feeling very uncomfortable lest someone should come in and see them -together. She however was quite at her ease and seeing that he -remained silent she recited with many arch looks the poem: ‘Come to me -in the forest and I will cut pasture for your horse, though it be but -of the under leaf whose season is past.’ ‘Should I seek your -woodland,’ he answered, ‘my fair name would be gone, for down its -glades at all times the pattering of hoofs is heard,’ and he tried to -get away; but she held him back saying: ‘How odious you are! That is -not what I mean at all. No one has ever insulted me like this -before,’ and she burst into tears. ‘Let us talk about it some other -time,’ said Genji; ‘I did not mean ...’ and freeing himself from her -grasp he rushed out of the room, leaving her in great dudgeon. She -felt indeed after his repulse prodigiously old and tottering. All this -was seen by His Majesty who, his toilet long ago completed, had -watched the ill-assorted pair with great amusement from behind his -Imperial screen. ‘I am always being told,’ he said, ‘that the boy -takes no interest in the members of my household. But I cannot say -that he seems to me unduly shy,’ and he laughed. For a moment she was -slightly embarrassed; but she felt that any relationship with Genji, -even if it consisted of being rebuffed by him in public, was -distinctly a feather in her cap, and she made no attempt to defend -herself against the Emperor’s raillery. The story soon went the round -of the Court. It astonished no one more than Tō no Chūjō who, though -he knew that Genji was given to odd experiments, could not believe -that his friend was really launched upon the fantastic courtship which -rumour was attributing to him. There seemed no better way of -discovering whether it was conceivably possible to regard the lady in -such a light than to make love to her himself. - -The attentions of so distinguished a suitor went a long way towards -consoling her for her late discomfiture. Her new intrigue was of -course carried on with absolute secrecy and Genji knew nothing about -it. When he next met her she seemed to be very cross with him, and -feeling sorry for her because she was so old he made up his mind that -he must try to console her. But for a long while he was completely -occupied by tiresome business of one kind and another. At last one -very dismal rainy evening when he was strolling in the neighbourhood -of the Ummeiden[15] he heard this lady playing most agreeably on -her lute. She was so good a performer that she was often called upon -to play with the professional male musicians in the Imperial -orchestra. It happened that at this moment she was somewhat downcast -and discontented, and in such a mood she played with even greater -feeling and verve. She was singing the ‘Melon-grower’s Song’[16]; -admirably, he thought, despite its inappropriateness to her age. So -must the voice of the mysterious lady at O-chou have sounded in Po -Chü-i’s ears when he heard her singing on her boat at night[17]; and -he stood listening. At the end of the song the player sighed heavily -as though quite worn out by the passionate vehemence of her serenade. -Genji approached softly humming the ‘Azumaya’: ‘Here in the portico of -the eastern house rain splashes on me while I wait. Come, my beloved, -open the door and let me in.’ Immediately, indeed with an unseemly -haste, she answered as does the lady in the song ‘Open the door and -come in,’[18] adding the verse: ‘In the wide shelter of that portico -no man yet was ever splashed with rain,’ and again she sighed so -portentously that although he did not at all suppose that he alone was -the cause of this demonstration he felt it in any case to be somewhat -exaggerated and answered with the poem: ‘Your sighs show clearly that, -despite the song, you are another’s bride, and I for my part have no -mind to haunt the loggias of your eastern house.’ He would gladly have -passed on, but he felt that this would be too unkind, and seeing that -someone else was coming towards her room he stepped inside and -began talking lightly of indifferent subjects, in a style which though -it was in reality somewhat forced she found very entertaining. - -It was intolerable, thought Tō no Chūjō, that Genji should be praised -as a quiet and serious young man and should constantly rebuke him for -his frivolity, while all the time he was carrying on a multiplicity of -interesting intrigues which out of mere churlishness he kept entirely -hidden from all his friends. For a long while Chūjō had been waiting -for an opportunity to expose this sanctimonious imposture, and when he -saw Genji enter the gentlewoman’s apartment you may be sure he was -delighted. To scare him a little at such a moment would be an -excellent way to punish him for his unfriendliness. He slackened his -pace and watched. The wind sighed in the trees. It was getting very -late. Surely Genji would soon begin to doze? And indeed he did now -look as though he had fallen asleep. Chūjō stole on tip-toe into the -room; but Genji who was only half dreaming instantly heard him, and -not knowing that Chūjō had followed him got it into his head that it -was a certain Commissioner of Works who years ago had been supposed to -be an admirer of the lady. The idea of being discovered in such a -situation by this important old gentleman filled him with horror. -Furious with his companion for having exposed him to the chance of -such a predicament: ‘This is too bad,’ he whispered ‘I am going home. -What possessed you to let me in on a night when you knew that someone -else was coming?’ He had only time to snatch up his cloak and hide -behind a long folding screen before Chūjō entered the room and going -straight up to the screen began in a business-like manner to fold it -up. Though she was no longer young the lady did not lose her head in -this alarming crisis. Being a woman of fashion she had on more than -one occasion found herself in an equally agitating position, and -now despite her astonishment, after considering for a moment what had -best be done with the intruder, she seized him by the back of his coat -and with a practised though trembling hand pulled him away from the -screen. Genji had still no idea that it was Chūjō. He had half a mind -to show himself, but quickly remembered that he was oddly and -inadequately clad, with his head-dress all awry. He felt that if he -ran for it he would cut much too strange a figure as he left the room, -and for a moment he hesitated. Wondering how much longer Genji would -take to recognize him Chūjō did not say a word but putting on the most -ferocious air imaginable drew his sword from the scabbard. Whereupon -the lady crying ‘Gentlemen! Gentlemen!’ flung herself between them in -an attitude of romantic supplication. They could hardly refrain from -bursting into laughter. It was only by day when very carefully painted -and bedizened that she still retained a certain superficial air of -youth and charm. But now this woman of fifty-seven or eight, disturbed -by a sudden brawl in the midst of her amours, created the most -astonishing spectacle as she knelt at the feet of two young men in -their ’teens beseeching them not to die for her. Chūjō however -refrained from showing the slightest sign of amusement and continued -to look as alarming and ferocious as he could. But he was now in full -view and Genji realized in a moment that Chūjō had all the while known -who he was and had been amusing himself at his expense. Much relieved -at this discovery he grabbed at the scabbard from which Chūjō had -drawn the sword and held it fast lest his friend should attempt to -escape and then, despite his annoyance at having been followed, burst -into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. ‘Are you in your right mind?’ -said Genji at last. ‘This is really a very poor sort of joke. Do you -mind letting me get into my cloak?’ Whereupon Chūjō snatched the -cloak from him and would not give it back. ‘Very well then,’ said -Genji; ‘if you are to have my cloak I must have yours,’ and so saying -he pulled open the clasp of Chūjō’s belt and began tugging his cloak -from his shoulders. Chūjō resisted and a long tussle followed in which -the cloak was torn to shreds. ‘Should you now get it in exchange for -yours, this tattered cloak will but reveal the secrets it is meant to -hide,’ recited Tō no Chūjō; to which Genji replied with an acrostic -poem in which he complained that Chūjō with whom he shared so many -secrets should have thought it necessary to spy upon him in this -fashion. But neither was really angry with the other and setting their -disordered costumes to rights they both took their departure. Genji -discovered when he was alone that it had indeed upset him very much to -find his movements had been watched, and he could not sleep. The lady -felt utterly bewildered. On the floor she found a belt and a buckle -which she sent to Genji next day with a complicated acrostic poem in -which she compared these stranded properties to the weeds which after -their straining and tugging the waves leave upon the shore. She added -an allusion to the crystal river of her tears. He was irritated by her -persistency but distressed at the shock to which she had been -subjected by Chūjō’s foolish joke, and he answered with the poem: ‘At -the antics of the prancing wave you have good cause to be angry; but -blameless indeed is the shore on whose sands it lashed.’ The belt was -Chūjō’s; that was plain for it was darker in colour than his own -cloak. And as he examined his cloak he noticed that the lower half of -one sleeve was torn away. What a mess everything was in! He told -himself with disgust that he was becoming a rowdy, a vulgar -night-brawler. Such people, he knew, were always tearing their clothes -and making themselves ridiculous. It was time to reform. - -The missing sleeve soon arrived from Chūjō’s apartments with the -message: ‘Had you not better have this sewn on before you wear your -cloak?’ How had he managed to get hold of it? Such tricks were very -tiresome and silly. But he supposed he must now give back the belt, -and wrapping it in paper of the same colour he sent it with a riddling -poem in which he said that he would not keep it lest he should make -trouble between Chūjō and the lady. ‘You have dragged her away from me -as in the scuffle you snatched from me this belt,’ said Chūjō in his -answering poem, and added ‘Have I not good reason to be angry with you?’ - -Later in the morning they met in the Presence Room. Genji wore a -solemn and abstracted air. Chūjō could not help recollecting the -absurd scene of their last meeting, but it was a day upon which there -was a great deal of public business to dispatch and he was soon -absorbed in his duties. But from time to time each would catch sight -of the other’s serious face and heavy official bearing, and then they -could not help smiling. In an interval Chūjō came up to Genji and -asked him in a low voice whether he had decided in future to be a -little more communicative about his affairs. ‘No, indeed,’ said Genji; -‘but I feel I owe you an apology for preventing you from spending a -happy hour with the lady whom you had come to visit. Everything in -life seems to go wrong.’ So they whispered and at the end each -solemnly promised the other not to speak of the matter to anybody. But -to the two of them it furnished a constant supply of jokes for a long -while to come, though Genji took the matter to heart more than he -showed and was determined never to get mixed up with such a tiresome -creature again. He heard however that the lady was still much ruffled, -and fearing that there might be no one at hand to comfort her he had -not the heart quite to discontinue his visits. - -Chūjō, faithful to his promise, did not mention the affair to -anyone, not even to his sister, but kept it as a weapon of -self-defence should Genji ever preach high morality to him again. - -Such marked preference did the Emperor show in his treatment of Genji -that even the other princes of the Blood Royal stood somewhat in awe -of him. But Tō no Chūjō was ready to dispute with him on any subject, -and was by no means inclined always to let him have his own way. He -and Aoi were the only children of the Emperor’s sister. Genji, it is -true, was the Emperor’s son; but though Chūjō’s father was only a -Minister his influence was far greater than that of his colleagues, -and as the son of such a man by his marriage with a royal princess he -was used to being treated with the greatest deference. It had never so -much as occurred to him that he was in any way Genji’s inferior; for -he knew that as regards his person at least he had no reason to be -dissatisfied; and with most other qualities, whether of character or -intelligence, he believed himself to be very adequately endowed. Thus -a friendly rivalry grew up between the two of them and led to many -diverting incidents which it would take too long to describe. - -In the seventh month two events of importance took place. An empress -was appointed[18] and Genji was raised to the rank of Counsellor. The -Emperor was intending very soon to resign the Throne. He would have -liked to proclaim his new-born child as Heir Apparent in place of -Kōkiden’s son. This was difficult, for there was no political function -which would have supported such a choice. Fujitsubo’s relations were -all members of the Imperial family[19] and Genji, to whom he might -have looked for help owing to his affiliation with the Minamoto clan, -unfortunately showed no aptitude for political intrigue. The best -he could do was at any rate to strengthen Fujitsubo’s position and -hope that later on she would be able to exert her influence. Kōkiden -heard of his intentions, and small wonder if she was distressed and -astounded. The Emperor tried to quiet her by pointing out that in a -short time her son would succeed to the Throne and that she would then -hold the equally important rank of Empress Mother. But it was indeed -hard that the mother of the Heir Apparent should be passed over in -favour of a concubine aged little more than twenty. The public tended -to take Kōkiden’s side and there was a good deal of discontent. On the -night when the new Empress was installed Genji, as a Counsellor, was -among those who accompanied her to the Middle Palace. As daughter of a -previous Empress and mother of an exquisite prince she enjoyed a -consideration at Court beyond that which her new rank would have alone -procured for her. But if it was with admiring devotion that the other -great lords of her train attended her that day, it may be imagined -with what fond yet agonized thoughts Prince Genji followed the litter -in which she rode. She seemed at last to have been raised so far -beyond his reach that scarce knowing what he did he murmured to -himself the lines: ‘Now upon love’s dark path has the last shadow -closed; for I have seen you carried to a cloud-land whither none may -climb.’ - -As the days and months went by the child grew more and more like -Genji. The new Empress was greatly distressed, but no one else seemed -to notice the resemblance. He was not of course so handsome; how -indeed should he have been? But both were beautiful, and the world was -content to accept their beauty without troubling to compare them, just -as it accepts both moon and sun as lovely occupants of the sky. - -[1] They were not allowed to leave the palace. - -[2] The bird that sings in Paradise. - -[3] See above p. 19. - -[4] In allusion to a boy-prince of seven years old whom the jealous -gods carried off to the sky. See the _Ōkagami_. - -[5] Those who stand in a circle round the dancers while the latter -change their clothes. - -[6] Reading ‘Sadaijin,’ not ‘Sadaishō.’ - -[7] Another illegitimate son of the Emperor; Genji’s step-brother. - -[8] Fujitsubo’s brother; Murasaki’s father. - -[9] Another name for the _nadeshiko_, ‘Child-of-my-heart,’ see p. 58. - -[10] _Shū-i Shū_ 967. - -[11] A sō no koto. - -[12] That hate kills is a fundamental thesis of the book. - -[13] ‘So withered is the grass beneath its trees that the young colt -will not graze there and the reapers do not come.’ - -[14] ‘So sweet is its shade that all the summer through its leafy -avenues are thronged,’ alluding to the lady’s many lovers. - -[15] The headquarters of the Ladies of the Bedchamber. - -[16] An old folk-song the refrain of which is ‘At the melon-hoeing he -said he loved me and what am I to do, what am I to do?’ - -[17] The poem referred to is not the famous _Lute Girl’s Song_, but a -much shorter one (_Works_ x. 8) on a similar theme. O-chou is the -modern Wu-ch‘ang in Hupeh. - -[18] In the song the lady says: ‘The door is not bolted or barred. -Come quickly and talk to me. Am I another’s bride, that you should be -so careful and shy?’ - -[18] The rank of Empress was often not conferred till quite late in a -reign. It was of course Fujitsubo whom the Emperor chose in this case. - -[19] And therefore debarred from taking part in political life. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - THE FLOWER FEAST - - -About the twentieth day of the second month the Emperor gave a Chinese -banquet under the great cherry-tree of the Southern Court. Both -Fujitsubo and the Heir Apparent were to be there. Kōkiden, although -she knew that the mere presence of the Empress was sufficient to spoil -her pleasure, could not bring herself to forego so delightful an -entertainment. After some promise of rain the day turned out -magnificent; and in full sunshine, with the birds singing in every -tree, the guests (royal princes, noblemen and professional poets -alike) were handed the rhyme words which the Emperor had drawn by lot, -and set to work to compose their poems. It was with a clear and -ringing voice that Genji read out the word ‘Spring’ which he had -received as the rhyme-sound of his poem. Next came Tō no Chūjō who, -feeling that all eyes were upon him and determined to impress himself -favourably on his audience, moved with the greatest possible elegance -and grace; and when on receiving his rhyme he announced his name, -rank, and titles, he took great pains to speak pleasantly as well as -audibly. Many of the other gentlemen were rather nervous and looked -quite pale as they came forward, yet they acquitted themselves well -enough. But the professional poets, particularly owing to the high -standard of accomplishment which the Emperor’s and Heir Apparent’s -lively interest in Chinese poetry had at that time diffused -through the Court, were very ill at ease; as they crossed the long -space of the garden on their way to receive their rhymes they felt -utterly helpless. A simple Chinese verse is surely not much to ask of -a professional poet; but they all wore an expression of the deepest -gloom. One expects elderly scholars to be somewhat odd in their -movements and behaviour, and it was amusing to see the lively concern -with which the Emperor watched their various but always uncouth and -erratic methods of approaching the Throne. Needless to say a great -deal of music had been arranged for. Towards dusk the delightful dance -known as the Warbling of Spring Nightingales was performed, and when -it was over the Heir Apparent, remembering the Festival of Red Leaves, -placed a wreath on Genji’s head and pressed him so urgently that it -was impossible for him to refuse. Rising to his feet he danced very -quietly a fragment of the sleeve-turning passage in the Wave Dance. In -a few moments he was seated again, but even into this brief extract -from a long dance he managed to import an unrivalled charm and grace. -Even his father-in-law who was not in the best of humour with him was -deeply moved and found himself wiping away a tear. - -‘And why have we not seen Tō no Chūjō?’ said the Heir Apparent. -Whereupon Chūjō danced the Park of Willow Flowers, giving a far more -complete performance than Genji, for no doubt he knew that he would be -called upon and had taken trouble to prepare his dance. It was a great -success and the Emperor presented him with a cloak, which everyone -said was a most unusual honour. After this the other young noblemen -who were present danced in no particular order, but it was now so dark -that it was impossible to discriminate between their performances. - -Then the poems were opened and read aloud. The reading of Genji’s -verses was continually interrupted by loud murmurs of applause. -Even the professional poets were deeply impressed, and it may well be -imagined what pride the Emperor, to whom at times Genji was a source -of consolation and delight, watched him upon such an occasion as this. -Fujitsubo, when she allowed herself to glance in his direction, -marvelled that even Kōkiden could find it in her heart to hate him. -‘It is because he is fond of me; there can be no other reason,’ she -decided at last and the verse ‘Were I but a common mortal who now am -gazing at the beauty of this flower, from its sweet petals not long -should I withhold the dew of love,’ framed itself on her lips, though -she dared not utter it aloud. - -It was now very late and the banquet was over. The guests had -scattered. The Empress and the Heir Apparent had both returned to the -Palace—all was still. The moon had risen very bright and clear, and -Genji, heated with wine, could not bear to quit so lovely a scene. The -people at the Palace were probably all plunged in a heavy sleep. On -such a night it was not impossible that some careless person might -have left some door unfastened, some shutter unbarred. Cautiously and -stealthily he crept towards Fujitsubo’s apartments and inspected them. -Every bolt was fast. He sighed; here there was evidently nothing to be -done. He was passing the loggia of Kōkiden’s palace when he noticed -that the shutters of the third arch were not drawn. After the banquet -Kōkiden herself had gone straight to the Emperor’s rooms. There did -not seem to be anyone about. A door leading from the loggia into the -house was standing open, but he could hear no sound within. ‘It is -under just such circumstances as this that one is apt to drift into -compromising situations,’ thought Genji. Nevertheless he climbed -quietly on to the balustrade and peeped. Every one must be asleep. But -no; a very agreeable young voice with an intonation which was -certainly not that of any waiting-woman or common person was softly -humming the last two lines of the _Oborozuki-yo_.[1] Was not the voice -coming towards him? It seemed so, and stretching out his hand he -suddenly found that he was grasping a lady’s sleeve. ‘Oh, how you -frightened me,’ she cried. ‘Who is it?’ ‘Do not be alarmed,’ he -whispered. ‘That both of us were not content to miss the beauty of -this departing night is proof more clear than the half-clouded moon -that we were meant to meet,’ and as he recited the words he took her -gently by the hand and led her into the house, closing the door behind -them. Her surprised and puzzled air fascinated him. ‘There is someone -there,’ she whispered tremulously, pointing to the inner room. ‘Child’ -he answered, ‘I am allowed to go wherever I please and if you send for -your friends they will only tell you that I have every right to be -here. But if you will stay quietly here....’ It was Genji. She knew -his voice and the discovery somewhat reassured her. She thought his -conduct rather strange, but she was determined that he should not -think her prudish or stiff. And so because he on his side was still -somewhat excited after the doings of the evening, while she was far -too young and pliant to offer any serious resistance, he soon got his -own way with her. - - -Suddenly they saw to their discomfiture that dawn was creeping into -the sky. She looked, thought Genji, as though many disquieting -reflections were crowding into her mind. ‘Tell me your name’ he said. -‘How can I write to you unless you do? Surely this is not going to be -our only meeting?’ She answered with a poem in which she said that -names are of this world only and he would not care to know hers if he -were resolved that their love should last till worlds to come. It -was a mere quip and Genji, amused at her quickness, answered ‘You are -quite right. It was a mistake on my part to ask.’ And he recited the -poem ‘While still I seek to find on which blade dwells the dew, a -great wind shakes the grasses of the level land.’ ‘If you did not -repent of this meeting,’ he continued, ‘you would surely tell me who -you are. I do not believe that you want....’ But here he was -interrupted by the noise of people stirring in the next room. There -was a great bustle and it was clear that they would soon be starting -out to fetch Princess Kōkiden back from the Palace. There was just -time to exchange fans in token of their new friendship before Genji -was forced to fly precipitately from the room. In his own apartments -he found many of his gentlemen waiting for him. Some were awake, and -these nudged one another when he entered the room as though to say -‘Will he never cease these disreputable excursions?’ But discretion -forbade them to show that they had seen him and they all pretended to -be fast asleep. Genji too lay down, but he could not rest. He tried to -recall the features of the lady with whom he had just spent so -agreeable a time. Certainly she must be one of Kōkiden’s sisters. -Perhaps the fifth or sixth daughter, both of whom were still -unmarried. The handsomest of them (or so he had always heard) were -Prince Sochi’s wife and the fourth daughter, the one with whom Tō no -Chūjō got on so badly. It would really be rather amusing if it did -turn out to be Chūjō’s wife. The sixth was shortly to be married to -the Heir Apparent. How tiresome if it were she! But at present he -could think of no way to make sure. She had not behaved at all as -though she did not want to see him again. Why then had she refused to -give him any chance of communicating with her? In fact he worried -about the matter so much and turned it over in his mind with such -endless persistency that it soon became evident he had fallen deeply -in love with her. Nevertheless no sooner did the recollection of -Fujitsubo’s serious and reticent demeanour come back to his mind than -he realized how incomparably more she meant to him than this -light-hearted lady. - -That day the after-banquet kept him occupied till late at night. At -the Emperor’s command he performed on the thirteen-stringed zithern -and had an even greater success than with his dancing on the day -before. At dawn Fujitsubo retired to the Emperor’s rooms. Disappointed -in his hope that the lady of last night would somewhere or somehow -make her appearance on the scene, he sent for Yoshikiyo and Koremitsu -with whom all his secrets were shared and bade them keep watch upon -the lady’s family. When he returned next day from duty at the Palace -they reported that they had just witnessed the departure of several -coaches which had been drawn up under shelter in the Courtyard of the -Watch. ‘Among a group of persons who seemed to be the domestic -attendants of those for whom the coaches were waiting two gentlemen -came threading their way in a great hurry. These we recognized as Shii -no Shōshō and Uchūben,[2] so there is little doubt that the carriages -belonged to Princess Kōkiden. For the rest we noted that the ladies -were by no means ill looking and that the whole party drove away in -three carriages.’ Genji’s heart beat fast. But he was no nearer than -before to finding out which of the sisters it had been. Supposing her -father, the Minister of the Right, should hear anything of this, what -a to-do there would be! It would indeed mean his absolute ruin. It was -a pity that while he was about it he did not stay with her till it was -a little lighter. But there it was! He did not know her face, but yet -he was determined to recognize her. How? He lay on his bed -devising and rejecting endless schemes. Murasaki too must be growing -impatient. Days had passed since he had visited her and he remembered -with tenderness how low-spirited she became when he was not able to be -with her. But in a moment his thoughts had returned to the unknown -lady. He still had her fan. It was a folding fan with ribs of -hinoki-wood and tassels tied in a splice-knot. One side was covered -with silverleaf on which was painted a dim moon, giving the impression -of a moon reflected in water. It was a device which he had seen many -times before, but it had agreeable associations for him, and -continuing the metaphor of the ‘grass on the moor’ which she had used -in her poem he wrote on the fan—‘Has mortal man ever puzzled his head -with such a question before as to ask where the moon goes to when she -leaves the sky at dawn?’ And he put the fan safely away. It was on his -conscience that he had not for a long while been to the Great Hall; -but fearing that Murasaki too might be feeling very unhappy he first -went home to give her her lessons. Every day she was improving not -only in looks, but also in amiability of character. The beauty of her -disposition was indeed quite out of the common. The idea that so -perfect a nature was in his hands, to train and cultivate as he -thought best, was very attractive to Genji. It might however have been -objected that to receive all her education from a young man is likely -to make a girl somewhat forward in her manner. - -First there was a great deal to tell her about what had happened at -the Court entertainments of the last few days. Then followed her music -lesson, and already it was time to go. ‘Oh why must he always go away -so soon?’ she wondered sadly, but by now she was so used to it that -she no longer fretted as she had done a little while ago. - -At the Great Hall he could, as usual, scarcely get a word out of -Aoi. The moment that he sat idle a thousand doubts and puzzles began -to revolve in his mind. He took up his zithern and began to sing: - - Not softlier pillowed is my head - That rests by thine, unloving bride, - Than were those jagged stones my bed - Through which the falls of Nuki stride. - -At this moment Aoi’s father came by and began to discuss the unusual -success of the recent festivities. ‘Old as I am,’ he said—‘and I may -say that I have lived to see four illustrious sovereigns occupy the -Throne, I have never taken part in a banquet which produced verses so -spirited or dancing and music so admirably performed. Talent of every -description seems at present to exist in abundance; but it is -creditable to those in authority that they knew how to make good use -of it. For my part I enjoyed myself so much that had I but been a few -years younger I would positively have joined in the dancing!’ ‘No -special steps were taken to discover the musicians,’ answered Genji. -‘We merely used those who were known to the government in one part of -the country and another as capable performers. If I may say so, it was -Chūjō’s Willow Dance that made the deepest impression and is likely -always to be remembered as a remarkable performance. But if you, Sir, -had indeed honoured us a new lustre would have been added to my -Father’s reign.’ Aoi’s brothers now arrived and leaning against the -balustrade gave a little concert, their various instruments blending -delightfully. - -Fugitive as their meeting had been it had sufficed to plunge the lady -whose identity Prince Genji was now seeking to establish into the -depths of despair; for in the fourth month she was to become the Heir -Apparent’s wife. Turmoil filled her brain. Why had not Genji visited -her again? He must surely know whose daughter she was. But how -should he know which daughter? Besides, her sister Kōkiden’s house was -not a place where, save under very strange circumstances, he was -likely to feel at all at his ease. And so she waited in great -impatience and distress; but of Genji there was no news. - -About the twentieth day of the third month her father, the Minister of -the Right, held an archery meeting at which most of the young noblemen -and princes were present. It was followed by a wistaria feast. The -cherry blossom was for the most part over, but two trees, which the -Minister seemed somehow to have persuaded to flower later than all the -rest, were still an enchanting sight. He had had his house rebuilt -only a short time ago when celebrating the initiation of his -grand-daughters, the children of Kōkiden. It was now a magnificent -building and not a thing in it but was of the very latest fashion. He -had invited Genji when he had met him at the Palace only a few days -before and was extremely annoyed when he did not appear. Feeling that -the party would be a failure if Genji did not come, he sent his son -Shii no Shōshō to fetch him, with the poem: ‘Were my flowers as those -of other gardens never should I have ventured to summon you.’ Genji -was in attendance upon the Emperor and at once showed him the message. -‘He seems very pleased with himself and his flowers,’ said his Majesty -with a smile; adding ‘as he has sent for you like this, I think you -had better go. After all your half-sisters are being brought up at his -house, and you ought not to treat him quite as a stranger.’ He went to -his apartments and dressed. It was very late indeed when at last he -made his appearance at the party. He was dressed in a cloak of thin -Chinese fabric, white outside but lined with yellow. His robe was of a -deep wine-red colour with a very long train. The dignity and grace -with which he carried this fancifully regal[3] attire in a -company where all were dressed in plain official robes were indeed -remarkable, and in the end his presence perhaps contributed more to -the success of the party than did the fragrance of the Minister’s -boasted flowers. His entry was followed by some very agreeable music. -It was already fairly late when Genji, on the plea that the wine had -given him a head-ache, left his seat and went for a walk. He knew that -his two step-sisters, the daughters of Kōkiden, were in the inner -apartments of the palace. He went to the eastern portico and rested -there. It was on this side of the house that the wistaria grew. The -wooden blinds were raised and a number of ladies were leaning out of -the window to enjoy the blossoms. They had hung bright-coloured robes -and shawls over the window-sill just as is done at the time of the New -Year dancing and other gala days and were behaving with a freedom of -allure which contrasted very oddly with the sober decorum of -Fujitsubo’s household. ‘I am feeling rather overpowered by all the -noise and bustle of the flower-party’ Genji explained. ‘I am very -sorry to disturb my sisters, but I can think of nowhere else to seek -refuge ...’ and advancing towards the main door of the women’s -apartments he pushed back the curtain with his shoulder. ‘Refuge -indeed!’ cried one of the ladies laughing at him. ‘You ought to know -by now that it is only poor relations who come to seek refuge with the -more successful members of their family. What pray have you come to -bother us for?’ ‘Impertinent creatures!’ he thought but nevertheless -there was something in their manner which convinced him they were -persons of some consequence in the house and not, as he at first -supposed, mere waiting-women. A scent of costly perfumes pervaded -the room; silken skirts rustled in the darkness. There could be little -doubt that these were Kōkiden’s sisters and their friends. Deeply -absorbed, as indeed was the whole of this family, in the fashionable -gaieties of the moment, they had flouted decorum and posted themselves -at the window that they might see what little they could of the -banquet which was proceeding outside. Little thinking that his plan -could succeed, yet led on by delightful recollections of his previous -encounter he advanced towards them chanting in a careless undertone -the song: - - At Ishikawa, Ishikawa - A man from Koma[4] took my belt away.... - -But for ‘belt’ he substituted ‘fan’ and by this means he sought to -discover which of the ladies was his friend. ‘Why, you have got it -wrong! I never heard of _that_ Korean’ one of them cried. Certainly it -was not she. But there was another who though she remained silent -seemed to him to be sighing softly to herself. He stole towards the -curtain-of-state behind which she was sitting and taking her hand in -his at a venture he whispered the poem: ‘If on this day of shooting my -arrow went astray, ’twas that in dim morning twilight only the mark -had glimmered in my view.’ And she, unable any longer to hide that she -knew him, answered with the verse: ‘Had it been with the arrows of the -heart that you had shot, though from the moon’s slim bow no brightness -came would you have missed your mark?’ Yes, it was her voice. He was -delighted, and yet.... - -[1] A famous poem by Ōye no Chisato (ninth century): ‘What so lovely -as a night when the moon though dimly clouded is never wholly lost to -sight.’ - -[2] Kōkiden’s brothers. - -[3] He had no right to such a costume; for though a son of the -Emperor, he had been affiliated to the Minamoto clan and no longer -counted as a member of the Imperial family. - -[4] Korea. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - AOI - - -The accession of the new Emperor was in many ways unfavourable to -Genji’s position. His recent promotion[1] too brought with it heavy -responsibilities which sadly interrupted the course of his hidden -friendships, so that complaints of desertion or neglect were soon -heaped upon him from more than one quarter; while, as though Fate -wished to turn the tables upon him, the one being on earth for whose -love he longed in vain had now utterly abandoned him. Now that the -Emperor was free to live as he chose she was more constantly than ever -at his side, nor was her peace any longer disturbed by the presence of -a rival, for Kōkiden resenting the old Emperor’s neglect now seldom -left her son’s Palace. A constant succession of banquets and -entertainments, the magnificence of which became the talk of the whole -country, helped to enliven the ex-Emperor’s retirement and he was on -the whole very well content with his new condition. His only regret -concerned the Heir Apparent[2] whose position, unsupported by any -powerful influence outside the Palace, he regarded as extremely -insecure. He constantly discussed the matter with Genji, begging him -to enlist the support of the Minamoto clan. Such conversations tended -to be somewhat embarrassing, but they gave Genji pleasure in so -far as they enabled him to take measures for the boy’s welfare. - -An unexpected event now occurred. Lady Rokujō’s daughter by her late -husband Prince Zembō was chosen to be the new Vestal Virgin at Ise.[3] -Her mother, who at the time when the appointment was first announced -happened to be particularly aggrieved at Genji’s treatment of her, at -once determined to make her daughter’s extreme youth a pretext for -leaving the Capital and settling permanently at Ise. Being at the -moment, as I have said, very much out of humour, she discussed the -matter openly, making no secret of her real reasons for wishing to -leave the City. The story soon reached the ex-Emperor’s ears, and -sending for Genji he said to him ‘The late Prince my brother was, as -you probably know, regarded with the utmost affection and esteem and I -am profoundly grieved to hear that your reckless and inconsiderate -conduct has cast a slur upon his family. For his daughter indeed I -feel as much responsible as if she were of my own children. I must -trouble you in future to safeguard to the utmost of your power the -reputation of these unfortunate ladies. If you do not learn to keep -better control over your frivolous inclinations you will soon find -yourself becoming extremely unpopular.’ Why should his father be so -much upset over the matter? And Genji, smarting under the rebuke, was -about to defend himself when it occurred to him that the warning was -not at all ill-merited and he maintained a respectful silence. - -‘Affairs of this kind,’ the ex-Emperor continued, ‘must be managed so -that the woman, no matter who she is, need not feel that she has been -brought into a humiliating position or treated in a cynical and -off-hand way. Forget this rule, and she will soon make you feel the -unpleasant consequences of her resentment.’ ‘Wicked as he thinks -me already,’ said Genji to himself while this lecture was going on, -‘there is a much worse enormity of which he as yet knows nothing.’ And -stupefied with horror at the thought of what would ensue should his -father ever discover this hideous secret, he bowed and left the room. - -What the ex-Emperor had said about ruining other people’s reputations -cut him to the quick. He realized that Rokujō’s rank and widowed -position entitled her to the utmost consideration. But after all it -was not he who had made public property of the affair; on the contrary -he had done everything in his power to prevent its becoming known. -There had always been a certain condescension in her treatment of him, -arising perhaps from the inequality of their ages,[4] and his -estrangement from her was solely due to the coldness with which she -had for a long time received him. That their private affairs were now -known not only to the ex-Emperor but also presumably to the whole -Court showed a lack of reticence which seemed to him deplorable. - -Among others who heard of the business was Princess Asagao.[5] -Determined that she at least would not submit herself to such -treatment she ceased to answer his letters even with the short and -guarded replies that she had been in the habit of sending to him. -Nevertheless he found it hard to believe that so gentle-mannered a -creature was thinking unkindly of him and continued to regard her with -devoted admiration. - -Princess Aoi when the story reached her ears was of course distressed -by this new instance of his fickleness; but she felt that it was -useless, now that his infidelity was open and unabashed, to protest -against one particular injury, and to his surprise she seemed to -take the matter rather lightly. She was suffering much inconvenience -from her condition and her spirits were very low. Her parents were -delighted and at the same time surprised to hear of what was to come. -But their pleasure and that of all her friends was marred by grave -forebodings, and it was arranged that prayers for her health and -special services of intercession should be recited in all the temples. -At such a time it was impossible for Genji to leave her and there were -many who though his feelings had not in reality cooled towards them -felt that they were being neglected. - -The Vestal Virgin of Kamo still remained to be selected. The choice -fell upon Kōkiden’s daughter, San no Miya. She was a great favourite -both with her brother the new Emperor and with the Empress Mother. Her -retirement from the world was a bitter blow to them; but there was no -help for it since she alone of all the royal princesses fulfilled the -prescribed conditions. - -The actual ritual of investiture could not be altered, but the Emperor -saw to it that the proceedings should be attended with the utmost Pomp -and splendour; while to the customary ritual of the Kamo Festival he -added so many touches that it became a spectacle of unparalleled -magnificence. All this was due to his partiality for the Virgin Elect. - -On the day of her purification the Virgin is attended by a fixed -number of noblemen and princes. For this retinue the Emperor was at -pains to choose the best built and handsomest of the young men at -Court; he settled what coloured gowns they were to wear, what pattern -was to be on their breeches, and even on what saddles they should -ride. By a special decree he ordered that Prince Genji should join -this retinue, and so great was everyone’s desire to get a good view of -the procession that long beforehand people were getting ready -special carriages with which to line the route. The scene along the -highroad of the First Ward was one of indescribable excitement. Dense -crowds surged along the narrow space allotted to them, while the -stands which with a wealth of ingenious fancy had been constructed all -along the route of the procession, with gay cloaks and shawls hung -over the balustrades, were in themselves a spectacle of astonishing -beauty. - -It had never been Aoi’s practice to be present at such occasions as -this and in her present state of health she would not have dreamt of -doing so had not her gentlewomen pressed round her saying ‘Come Madam! -It will be no fun for us to go by ourselves and be hidden away in some -corner. It is to see Prince Genji that all these people have come -to-day. Why, all sorts of queer wild men from the mountains are here, -and people have brought their wives and children from provinces ever -so far away. If all these people who are nothing to do with him have -taken the trouble to come so far, it will be too bad if you, his own -lady, are not there!’ Overhearing this Aoi’s mother joined in. ‘You -are feeling much better just now,’ she said; ‘I think you ought to -make the effort. It will be so disappointing for your gentlewomen....’ -At the last minute Aoi changed her mind and announced that she was -going. It was now so late that there was no time to put on gala -clothes. The whole of the enclosure allotted for this purpose was -already lined with coaches which were packed so close that it was -quite impossible to find space for the large and numerous carriages of -Aoi and her train. A number of grand ladies began to make room for -her, backing their coaches away from a suitable space in the reserved -enclosure. Conspicuous among the rest were two basket-work carriages -of a rather old-fashioned pattern but with curtains such as are used -by persons of quality, very discreetly decked with draperies that -barely showed beneath the curtains, yet these draperies (whether -sleeve-favour, skirt or scarf) all of the handsomest colours. They -seemed to belong to some exalted personage who did not wish to be -recognized. When it was their turn to move, the coachmen in charge of -them would not lift a finger. ‘It is not for such as we to make way’ -they said stiffly and did not stir. Among the attendants on both sides -there was a number of young grooms who were already the worse for -liquor. They were longing for a scuffle and it was impossible to keep -them in hand. The staid and elderly outriders tried to call them back, -but they took no notice. - -The two carriages belonged to Princess Rokujō who had come secretly to -the festival hoping for a while to find distraction from her troubles. -Despite the steps which she had taken to conceal her identity, it was -at once suspected by some of Aoi’s gentlemen and they cried to the -grooms that this was not an equipage which could be dealt with so -high-handedly or it would be said that their lady was abusing her -position as wife of the Lord Commander. But at this moment a number of -Genji’s servants mingled in the fray. They knew Rokujō’s men by sight, -but after a moment’s embarrassment they decided not to give assistance -to the enemy by betraying his identity. - -Thus reinforced Aoi’s side won the day and at length her coach and -those of all her ladies were drawn up along the front row, while -Rokujō’s was pushed back among a miscellaneous collection of carts and -gigs where she could see nothing at all. She was vexed beyond measure -not only at missing what she had come to see but also that despite all -her precautions she had been recognized and (as she was convinced) -deliberately insulted. Her shaft-rest and other parts of her coach as -well were damaged and she was obliged to prop it up against some -common person’s carriage wheels. Why, she vainly asked herself, had -she come among these hateful crowds? She would go home at once. What -sense was there in waiting for the procession to come? But when she -tried to go, she found that it was impossible to force a way through -the dense crowds. She was still struggling to escape when the cry went -up that the procession was in sight. Her resolution weakened. She -would wait till Genji had passed by. He did not see her. How should -he, for the crowds flashed by him like the hurrying images that a -stream catches and breaks. She realized this, yet her disappointment -was none the less. - -The carriages that lined the route, decked and garlanded for this -great day, were crammed to overflowing with excited ladies who though -there was no room for them would not consent to be left behind. -Peeping out under the blinds of their coaches they smiled at the great -personages who were passing quite regardless of whether their -greetings were acknowledged. But every now and then a smile would be -rewarded by a quick glance or the backward turn of a head. Aoi’s party -was large and conspicuous. He wheeled round as he passed and saluted -its members attentively. Rider after rider again as the procession -went by would pause in front of Aoi’s coach and salute her with the -deepest respect. The humiliation of witnessing all this from an -obscure corner was more than Rokujō could bear, and murmuring the -lines ‘Though I saw him but as a shadow that falls on hurrying waters -yet knew I that at last my hour of utmost misery was come’ she burst -into tears. It was hideous that her servants should see her in this -state. Yet even while she struggled with her tears she could not find -it in her heart to regret that she had seen him in all his glory. - -The riders in the procession were indeed all magnificently -apparelled, each according to his own rank; in particular the young -noblemen chosen by the Emperor cut so brilliant a figure that only the -lustre of Genji’s beauty could have eclipsed their splendour. The -Commander of this Bodyguard is not generally allotted a Palace-Officer -as his special attendant, but as the occasion was of such importance -the Imperial Treasurer[6] rode at Genji’s side. It seemed to those who -saw so many public honours showered upon him that no flower of fortune -could resist the favouring gale which blew towards his side. There -were among the crowd women of quite good birth who had dressed in -walking-skirts and come a long way on foot. There were nuns and other -female recluses who, though in order to see anything of the procession -they were obliged to endure being constantly pushed off their feet, -and though they commonly regarded all such spectacles with contempt -and aversion, were to-day declaring that they would not have missed it -for anything. There were old men grinning through toothless gums, -strange-looking girls with their hair poked away under ragged hoods -and stolid peasant boys standing with hands raised as though in -prayer, whose uncouth faces were suddenly transfigured with wonder and -joy as the procession burst into sight. Even the daughters of remote -provincial magistrates and governors who had no acquaintances whatever -in the City had expended as much coquetry upon the decoration of their -persons and coaches as if they were about to submit themselves to a -lover’s inspection, and their equipages made a bright and varied show. -If even these strangers were in such a taking, it may be imagined with -what excitement, scattered here and there among the crowd, those with -whom Genji was in secret communication watched the procession go by -and with how many hidden sighs their bosoms heaved. - -Prince Momozono[7] had a seat in one of the stands. He was amazed to -see his nephew grown up into such a prodigiously handsome young man -and was alarmed lest soon the gods should cast an envious eye upon -him. Princess Asagao could not but be touched by the rare persistency -with which year after year Genji had pressed his suit. Even had he -been positively ugly she would have found it hard to resist such -importunity; so small wonder if seeing him ride by in all his -splendour she marvelled that she had held out so long. But she was -determined to know him much better before she committed herself. The -young waiting-women who were with her were careful to belaud him in -extravagant terms. To the festival itself[8] Aoi did not go. The -affray between her servants and those of Rokujō was soon reported to -Genji. It vexed him beyond measure that such a thing should have -occurred. That the exquisitely well-bred Aoi should have been in any -way responsible for this outburst of insolent ruffianism he did not -for a moment believe; it must be the work of rough under-servants who, -though they had no actual instructions, had imbibed the notion that -all was not well between the two houses and imagined that they would -get credit for espousing their mistress’s cause. He knew well enough -the unusual vanity and susceptibility of the affronted lady. -Distressed to think of the pain which this incident must have caused -her he hastened to her house. But her daughter, the Virgin Elect of -Ise, was still in the house, and she made this a plea for turning him -away after the exchange of a few formal words. He had the greatest -possible sympathy for her; but he was feeling rather tired of coping -with injured susceptibilities. - -He could not face the idea of going straight back to the Great Hall. -It was the day of the Kamo festival and going to his own palace he -ordered Koremitsu to get his coach ready. ‘Look at her!’ he cried -smiling fondly at Murasaki when she appeared in all her finery -surrounded by the little children whom he had given her for playmates, -‘She must needs bring her dames to wait upon her!’ and stroking her -lovely hair which to-day Shōnagon had dressed with more than usual -care. ‘It is getting rather long’ he said; ‘to-day would not be a -bad[9] time to have it cut’ and sending for his astrologer he bade him -consult his books. ‘The maids-of-honour first!’ he cried, nodding at -the pretty troupe of babes, and their dainty tresses were trimmed so -as to hang neatly over their diapered holiday gowns. ‘I am going to -cut yours myself’ he said to Murasaki. ‘What a lot of it there is! I -wonder how much longer it would have grown.’ Really it was quite hard -work. ‘People with very long hair ought to wear it cut rather short -over the temples’ he said at last; ‘but I have not the heart to crop -you any closer’ and he laid the knife down. Shōnagon’s gratification -knew no bounds when she heard him reciting the prayer with which the -ceremony of hair-cutting should conclude. There is a sea-weed called -_miru_ which is used in the dressing of ladies’ hair and playing upon -this word (which also means ‘to see’) he recited a poem in which he -said that the miru-weed which had been used in the washing of her hair -was a token that he would forever fondly watch it grow. She answered -that like the sea-tides which visit the _miru_ in its cleft he came -but went away, and often her tresses unwatched by him would like the -hidden sea-weed grow. This she wrote very prettily on a slip of paper -and though the verse had no merit in it but the charm of a childish -mind it gave him great delight. To-day the crowds were as thick -as ever. With great difficulty he managed to wedge in his carriage -close to the Royal Stables. But here they were surrounded by somewhat -turbulent young noblemen and he was looking for a quieter place when a -smart carriage crammed full of ladies drew up near by and some one in -it beckoned with a fan to Genji’s servants. ‘Will you not come over -where we are?’ said one of the ladies. ‘We will gladly make room for -you.’ Such an offer was perhaps somewhat forward, but the place she -had indicated was such a good one that Genji at once accepted the -invitation. ‘I am afraid it is very unfair that we should take your -place like this ...’ Genji was beginning to say politely, when one of -the ladies handed him a fan with the corner bent down. Here he found -the poem: ‘This flower-decked day of meeting when the great god -unfolds his portents in vain have I waited, for alas another is at thy -side.’ Surely the handwriting was familiar. Yes, it was that of the -ancient lady-of-the-bedchamber. He felt that it was time she should -give up such pranks as this and answered discouragingly: ‘Not ours -this day of tryst when garlanded and passionate the Eighty Tribes -converge.’ This put the lady out of countenance and she replied: ‘Now -bitterly do I repent that for this cheating day my head is decked with -flowers; for in name only is it a day of meeting.’ - -Their carriages remained side by side, but Genji did not even draw up -the side-curtains, which was a disappointment to more persons than -one. The magnificence of his public appearance a few days ago was -contrasted by everyone with the unobtrusive manner in which he now -mingled with the crowd. It was agreed that his companion, whoever she -might be, must certainly be some very great lady. Genji was afraid -that his neighbour was going to prove troublesome. But fortunately -some of her companions had more discretion than their mistress, -and out of consideration for the unknown sharer of Genji’s coach -persuaded the voluble lady to restrain herself. - -Lady Rokujō’s sufferings were now far worse than in previous years. -Though she could no longer endure to be treated as Genji was treating -her, yet the thought of separating from him altogether and going so -far away agitated her so much that she constantly deferred her -journey. She felt too that she would become a laughingstock if it was -thought that she had been spurred to flight by Genji’s scorn; yet if -at the last moment she changed her plans and stayed behind everyone -would think her conduct extremely ill-balanced and unaccountable. Thus -her days and nights were spent in an agony of indecision and often she -repeated to herself the lines ‘My heart like the fishers’ float on Ise -shore is danced from wave to wave.’[10] She felt herself indeed -swirled this way and that by paroxysms that sickened her but were -utterly beyond her control. - -Genji, though it pained him that she should feel it necessary to go so -far away did not attempt to dissuade her from the journey. ‘It is -quite natural’ he wrote, ‘that tiresome creature as I am you should -want to put me altogether out of your head. I only beg that even -though you see no use in it, you will let me see you once more before -you go. Were we to meet, you would soon realize that I care for your -happiness far more than you suppose.’ But she could not forget how -when at the River of cleansing she sought a respite from the torture -of her own doubt and indecision, rough waves had dashed her against -the rocks,[11] and she brooded more and more upon this wrong till -there was room for no other thought in all her heart. - -Meanwhile Princess Aoi became strangely distraught, and it seemed at -times as though some hostile spirit had entered into her. The whole -household was plunged into such a state of anxiety and gloom that -Genji had not the heart to absent himself for more than a few hours. -It was only very occasionally that he got even as far as his own -palace. After all, she was his wife; moreover, despite all the -difficulties that had risen between them he cared for her very much -indeed. He could no longer disguise from himself that there was -something wrong with her in addition to the discomfort which naturally -accompanied her condition, and he was in a state of great distress. -Constant rituals of exorcism and divination were performed under his -direction, and it was generally agreed that all the signs indicated -possession by the spirit of some living person. Many names were tried -but to none of them did the spirit respond, and it seemed as though it -would be impossible to shift it. Aoi herself felt that some alien -thing had entered into her, and though she was not conscious of any -one definite pain or dread the sense that the thing was there never -for a moment left her. The greatest healers of the day were powerless -to eject it and it became apparent that this was no ordinary case of -‘possession’: some tremendous accumulation of malice was discharging -itself upon her. It was natural that her friends should turn over in -their minds the names of those whom Genji had most favoured. It was -whispered that only with Lady Rokujō and the girl at the Nijō-in was -he on terms of such intimacy that their jealousy would be at all -likely to produce a fatal effect. But when the doctors attempted to -conjure the spirit by the use of these names, there was no visible -response. She had not in all the world any enemy who might be -practising conscious[12] witchcraft against her. Such indispositions -were sometimes attributed to possession by the spirit of some -dead retainer or old family-nurse; or again the malice of someone whom -the Minister, Aoi’s father, had offended might, owing to her delicate -condition, have fastened upon her instead of him. Conjecture after -conjecture was accepted and then falsified. Meanwhile she lay -perpetually weeping. Constantly, indeed, she would break out into fits -of sobbing so violent that her breath was stopped, while those about -her, in great alarm for her safety, stood by in misery not knowing -what to do. - -The ex-Emperor enquired after her continually. He even ordered special -services to be said on her behalf, and these attentions served to -remind her parents in what high estimation she was held at the Court. -Not among her friends only but throughout the whole country the news -of her illness caused great distress. Rokujō heard of her sufferings -with deep concern. For years they had been in open rivalry for Genji’s -favours, but even after that wretched affair of the coaches (though it -must be admitted that this had greatly incensed her) she had never -gone so far as to wish evil against the Princess. She herself was very -unwell. She began to feel that the violent and distracting emotions -which continually assailed her had in some subtle way unhinged her -mind and she determined to seek spiritual assistance at a place some -miles distant from her home. Genji heard of this and in great anxiety -concerning her at once set out for the house where she was reported to -be staying. It lay beyond the City precincts and he was obliged to go -with the greatest secrecy.[13] He begged her to forgive him for not -having come to see her for so long. ‘I have not been having a very -cheerful time’ he said and gave her some account of Aoi’s condition. -He wanted to make her feel that if he had stayed away it had been -from a melancholy necessity and not because he had found more amusing -company elsewhere. ‘It is not so much my own anxiety that unnerves me -as the spectacle of the appalling helplessness and misery into which -her illness has plunged her wretched parents, and it was in the hope -of forgetting for a little while all these sickroom horrors that I -came to see you here to-day. If only just for this once you could -overlook all my offences and be kind to me....’ - -His pleading had no effect. Her attitude was more hostile than before. -He was not angry with her, nor indeed was he surprised. Day was -already breaking when, unsolaced, he set out for home. But as she -watched him go his beauty suddenly made havoc of all her resolutions -and again she felt that it was madness to leave him. Yet what had she -to stay for? Aoi was with child and this could only be a sign that he -had made his peace with her. Henceforward he could lead a life of -irreproachable rectitude and if once in a way he came to make his -excuse as he had come to-day, what purpose would that serve, save to -keep ever fresh the torment of her desires? Thus when his letter came -next day it found her more distraught than before: ‘The sick woman who -for a few days past had shown some improvement is again suffering -acutely and it is at present impossible for me to leave her.’ Certain -that this was a mere excuse she sent in reply the poem ‘The fault is -mine and the regret, if careless as the peasant girl who stoops too -low amid the sprouting rice I soiled my sleeve in love’s dark road.’ -At the end of her letter she reminded him of the old song: ‘Now -bitterly do I repent that ever I brought my pitcher to the mountain -well where waters were but deep enough to soil my sleeve.’ He looked -at the delicate handwriting. Who was there, even among women of her -high lineage and breeding, that could rival the ineffable grace -and elegance with which this small note was penned? That one whose -mind and person alike so strongly attracted him must now by his own -act be lost to him forever, was a bitter thought. Though it was almost -dark, he sat down and wrote to her: ‘Do not say that the waters have -but wetted your sleeve. For the shallowness is in your comparison -only; not in my affections!’ And to this he added the poem: ‘’Tis you, -you only who have loitered among the shallow pools: while I till all -my limbs were drenched have battled through the thickets of love’s -dark track.’ And he ended with the words: ‘Had but a ray of comfort -lighted the troubles of this house, I should myself have been the -bearer of this note.’ - -Meanwhile Aoi’s possession had returned in full force; she was in a -state of pitiable torment. It reached Lady Rokujō’s ears that the -illness had been attributed by some to the operation of her ‘living -spirit.’ Others, she was told, believed that her father’s ghost was -avenging the betrayal of his daughter. She brooded constantly upon the -nature of her own feelings towards Aoi, but could discover in herself -nothing but intense unhappiness. Of hostility towards Aoi she could -find no trace at all. Yet she could not be sure whether somewhere in -the depths of a soul consumed by anguish some spark of malice had not -lurked. Through all the long years during which she had loved and -suffered, though it had often seemed to her that greater torment could -not anywhere in the world exist, her whole being had never once been -so utterly bruised and shattered as in these last days. It had begun -with that hateful episode of the coaches. She had been scorned, -treated as though she had no right to exist. Yes, it was true that -since the Festival of Purification her mind had been buffeted by such -a tempest of conflicting resolutions that sometimes it seemed as -though she had lost all control over her own thoughts. She -remembered how one night she had suddenly, in the midst of agonizing -doubts and indecisions, found that she had been dreaming. It seemed to -her that she had been in a large magnificent room, where lay a girl -whom she knew to be the Princess Aoi. Snatching her by the arm she had -dragged and mauled the prostrate figure, with an outburst of brutal -fury such as in her waking life would have been utterly foreign to -her. Since then she had had the same dream several times. How -terrible! It seemed then that it was really possible for one’s spirit -to leave the body and break out into emotions which the waking mind -would not countenance. Even where someone’s actions are all but -irreproachable (she reflected) people take a malicious delight in -saying nothing about the good he has done and everything about the -evil. With what joy would they seize upon such a story as this! That -after his death a man’s ghost should pursue his enemies is a thing -which seems to be of constant occurrence, yet even this is taken as a -sign that the dead man was of a fiendishly venomous and malignant -character and his reputation is utterly destroyed. ‘What then will -become of me if it is thought that while still alive I have been -guilty of so hideous a crime?’ She must face her fate. She had lost -Genji for ever. If she were to keep any control at all over her own -thoughts she must first of all find some way of putting him wholly out -of mind. She kept on reminding herself not to think of him, so that -this very resolve led her in the end to think of him but the more. - -The Virgin of Ise should by rights have entered upon her duties before -the end of the year, but difficulties of various kinds arose and it -was not till the autumn of the next year that she could at last be -received. She was to enter the Palace in-the-Fields[14] in the ninth -month, but this was decided so late that the arrangements for -her second Purification had to be made in great haste. It was -very inconvenient that at this crisis her mother, so far from -superintending the preparations, spent hour after hour lying dazed and -helpless upon her bed. At last the priests arrived to fetch the girl -away. They took a grave view of the mother’s condition and gave her -the benefit of their presence by offering up many prayers and -incantations. But week after week she remained in the same condition, -showing no symptom which seemed actually dangerous, yet all the time -(in some vague and indefinite way) obviously very ill. Genji sent -constantly to enquire after her, but she saw clearly that his -attention was occupied by quite other matters. Aoi’s delivery was not -yet due and no preparations for it had been made, when suddenly there -were signs that it was close at hand. She was in great distress, but -though the healers recited prayer upon prayer their utmost efforts -could not shift by one jot the spiteful power which possessed her. All -the greatest miracle-workers of the land were there; the utter failure -of their ministrations irritated and perplexed them. At last, daunted -by the potency of their incantations, the spirit that possessed her -found voice and, weeping bitterly, she was heard to say: ‘Give me a -little respite; there is a matter of which Prince Genji and I must -speak.’ The healers nodded at one another as though to say ‘Now we -shall learn something worth knowing,’ for they were convinced that the -‘possession’ was speaking through the mouth of the possessed, and they -hurried Genji to her bedside. Her parents thinking that, her end being -near, she desired to give some last secret injunction to Genji, -retired to the back of the room. The priests too ceased their -incantations and began to recite the _Hokkekyo_[15] in low impressive -tones. He raised the bed-curtain. She looked lovely as ever as -she lay there, very big with child, and any man who saw her even -now would have found himself strangely troubled by her beauty. How -much the more then Prince Genji, whose heart was already overflowing -with tenderness and remorse! The plaited tresses of her long hair -stood out in sharp contrast to her white jacket.[16] Even to this -loose, sick-room garb her natural grace imparted the air of a -fashionable gown! He took her hand. ‘It is terrible’ he began, ‘to see -you looking so unhappy ...’ he could say no more. Still she gazed at -him, but through his tears he saw that there was no longer in her eyes -the wounded scorn that he had come to know so well, but a look of -forbearance and tender concern; and while she watched him weep her own -eyes brimmed with tears. It would not do for him to go on crying like -this. Her father and mother would be alarmed; besides, it was -upsetting Aoi herself, and meaning to cheer her he said: ‘Come, things -are not so bad as that! You will soon be much better. But even if -anything should happen, it is certain that we shall meet again in -worlds to come. Your father and mother too, and many others, love you -so dearly that between your fate and theirs must be some sure bond -that will bring you back to them in many, many lives that are to be.’ -Suddenly she interrupted him: ‘No, no. That is not it. But stop these -prayers awhile. They do me great harm,’ and drawing him nearer to her -she went on ‘I did not think that you would come. I have waited for -you till all my soul is burnt with longing.’ She spoke wistfully, -tenderly; and still in the same tone recited the verse ‘Bind thou, as -the seam of a skirt is braided, this shred, that from my soul despair -and loneliness have sundered.’ The voice in which these words were -said was not Aoi’s; nor was the manner hers. He knew someone -whose voice was very like that. Who was it? Why, yes; surely only -she,—the Lady Rokujō. Once or twice he had heard people suggest that -something of this kind might be happening; but he had always rejected -the idea as hideous and unthinkable, believing it to be the malicious -invention of some unprincipled scandalmonger, and had even denied that -such ‘possession’ ever took place. Now he had seen one with his own -eyes. Ghastly, unbelievable as they were, such things did happen in -real life. Controlling himself at last he said in a low voice: ‘I am -not sure who is speaking to me. Do not leave me in doubt....’ Her -answer proved only too conclusively that he had guessed aright. To his -horror her parents now came back to the bed, but she had ceased to -speak, and seeing her now lying quietly her mother thought the attack -was over, and was coming towards the bed carrying a basin of hot water -when Aoi suddenly started up and bore a child. For the moment all was -gladness and rejoicing; but it seemed only too likely that the spirit -which possessed her had but been temporarily dislodged; for a fierce -fit of terror was soon upon her, as though the thing (whatever it was) -were angry at having been put to the trouble of shifting, so that -there was still grave anxiety about the future. The Abbot of Tendai -and the other great ecclesiastics who were gathered together in the -room attributed her easy delivery to the persistency of their own -incantations and prayers, and as they hastily withdrew to seek -refreshment and repose they wiped the sweat from their brows with an -expression of considerable self-satisfaction. Her friends who had for -days been plunged in the deepest gloom now began to take heart a -little, believing that although there was no apparent improvement yet -now that the child was safely born she could not fail to mend. The -prayers and incantations began once more, but throughout the -house there was a new feeling of confidence; for the amusement of -looking after the baby at least gave them some relief from the strain -under which they had been living for so many days. Handsome presents -were sent by the ex-Emperor, the Royal Princes and all the Court, -forming an array which grew more dazzling each night.[17] The fact -that the child was a boy made the celebrations connected with his -birth all the more sumptuous and elaborate. - -The news of this event took Lady Rokujō somewhat aback. The last -report she had heard from the Great Hall was that the confinement was -bound to be very dangerous. And now they said that there had not been -the slightest difficulty. She thought this very peculiar. She had -herself for a long while been suffering from the most disconcerting -sensations. Often she felt as though her whole personality had in some -way suddenly altered. It was as though she were a stranger to herself. -Recently she had noticed that a smell of mustard-seed incense for -which she was at a loss to account was pervading her clothes and hair. -She took a hot bath and put on other clothes; but still the same odour -of incense pursued her. It was bad enough even in private to have this -sensation of being as it were estranged from oneself. But now her body -was playing tricks upon her which her attendants must have noticed and -were no doubt discussing behind her back. Yet there was not one person -among those about her with whom she could bring herself to discuss -such things and all this pent-up misery seemed only to increase the -strange process of dissolution which had begun to attack her mind. - -Now that Genji was somewhat less anxious about Aoi’s condition the -recollection of his extraordinary conversation with her at the -crisis of her attack kept on recurring in his mind, and it made so -painful an impression upon him that though it was now a long time -since he had communicated with Rokujō and he knew that she must be -deeply offended, he felt that no kind of intimacy with her would ever -again be possible. Yet in the end pity prevailed and he sent her a -letter. It seemed indeed that it would at present be heartless to -absent himself at all from one who had just passed through days of -such terrible suffering and from her friends who were still in a state -of the gravest anxiety, and all his secret excursions were abandoned. -Aoi still remained in a condition so serious that he was not allowed -to see her. The child was as handsome an infant as you could wish to -see. The great interest which Genji took in it and the zest with which -he entered into all the arrangements which were made for its welfare -delighted Aoi’s father, inasmuch as they seemed signs of a better -understanding between his daughter and Genji; and though her slow -recovery caused him great anxiety, he realized that an illness such as -that through which she had just passed must inevitably leave -considerable traces behind it and he persuaded himself that her -condition was less dangerous than one might have supposed. The child -reminded Genji of the Heir Apparent and made him long to see -Fujitsubo’s little son again. The desire took such strong hold upon -him that at last he sent Aoi a message in which he said: ‘It is a very -long time since I have been to the Palace or indeed have paid any -visits at all. I am beginning to feel the need of a little -distraction, so to-day I am going out for a short while and should -like to see you before I go. I do not want to feel that we are -completely cut off from one another.’ So he pleaded, and he was -supported by her ladies who told her that Prince Genji was her own -dear Lord and that she ought not to be so proud and stiff with him. -She feared that her illness had told upon her looks and was for -speaking to him with a curtain between, but this too her gentlewomen -would not allow. He brought a stool close to where she was lying and -began speaking to her of one thing or another. Occasionally she put in -a word or two, but it was evident that she was still very weak. -Nevertheless it was difficult to believe that she had so recently -seemed almost at the point of death. They were talking quietly -together about those worst days of her illness and how they now seemed -like an evil dream when suddenly he recollected the extraordinary -conversation he had had with her when she was lying apparently at her -last gasp and filled with a sudden bitterness, he said to her: ‘There -are many other things that I must one day talk to you about. But you -seem very tired and perhaps I had better leave you.’ So saying he -arranged her pillows, brought her warm water to wash in and in fact -played the sick-nurse so well that those about her wondered where he -had acquired the art. Still peerlessly beautiful but weak and listless -she seemed as she lay motionless on the bed at times almost to fade -out of existence. He gazed at her with fond concern. Her hair, every -ringlet still in its right place, was spread out over the pillow. -Never before had her marvellous beauty so strangely impressed him. Was -it conceivable that year after year he should have allowed such a -woman to continue in estrangement from him? Still he stood gazing at -her. ‘I must start for the Palace,’ he said at last; ‘but I shall not -be away long. Now that you are better you must try to make your mother -feel less anxious about you when she comes presently; for though she -tries hard not to show it, she is still terribly distressed about you. -You must begin now to make an effort and sit up for a little while -each day. I think it is partly because she spoils you so much that you -are taking so long to get well.’ As he left the room, robed in -all the magnificence of his court attire she followed him with her -eyes more fixedly than ever in her life before. The attendance of the -officers who took part in the autumn session was required, and Aoi’s -father accompanied Genji to the Palace, as did also her brother who -needed the Minister’s assistance in making their arrangements for the -coming political year. Many of their servants went too and the Great -Hall wore a deserted and melancholy aspect. Suddenly Aoi was seized -with the same choking-fit as before and was soon in a desperate -condition. This news was brought to Genji in the Palace and breaking -off his Audience he at once made for home. The rest followed in hot -haste and though it was Appointment Evening[18] they gave up all -thought of attending the proceedings, knowing that the tragic turn of -affairs at the Great Hall would be considered a sufficient excuse. It -was too late to get hold of the abbot from Mount Tendai or any of the -dignitaries who had given their assistance before. It was appalling -that just when she seemed to have taken a turn for the better she -should so suddenly again be at the point of death, and the people at -the Great Hall felt utterly helpless and bewildered. Soon the house -was full of lackeys who were arriving from every side with messages of -sympathy and enquiry; but from the inhabitants of that stricken house -they could obtain no information, for they seemed to do nothing but -rush about from one room to another in a state of frenzy which it was -terrifying to behold. - -Remembering that several times already her ‘possession’ had reduced -her to a trance-like state, they did not for some time attempt to lay -out the body or even touch her pillows, but left her lying just as she -was. After two or three days however it became clear that life was -extinct. - -Amid the general lamentations which ensued Genji’s spirit sank -with the apathy of utter despair. Sorrow had followed too fast upon -sorrow; life as he saw it now was but a succession of futile miseries. -The messages of condolence which poured in from all the most exalted -quarters in the Court and City merely fatigued and exasperated him. - -The warmth of the old ex-Emperor’s messages and his evident personal -distress at Aoi’s death were indeed very flattering and mingled a -certain feeling of gratification with her father’s perpetual weeping. -At the suggestion of a friend various drastic means were resorted to -in the hope that it might yet be possible to kindle some spark of life -in the body. But it soon became evident, even to their reluctant eyes, -that all this was too late, and heavy at heart they took the body to -Toribeno. Here, in the great flat cremation-ground beyond the town, -the horrors that they had dreaded were only too swiftly begun. Even in -this huge open space there was scarcely room for the crowds of -mourners who had come from all the great palaces of the City to follow -behind the bier and for the concourses of priests who, chanting their -liturgies, flocked from the neighbouring temples. The ex-Emperor was -of course represented; so were the Princess Kōkiden and the Heir -Apparent; while many other important people came in person and mingled -with the crowd. Never had any funeral aroused so universal a -demonstration of interest and sympathy. Her father was not present: -‘Now in my declining years to have lost one who was so young and -strong is a blow too staggering ...’ he said and he could no longer -check the tears which he was striving to conceal. His grief was -heart-rending. All night long the mournful ceremonies proceeded, but -at last only a few pitiful ashes remained upon the pyre and in the -morning the mourners returned to their homes. It was in fact, save for -its grandeurs, much like any other funeral; but it so happened that -save in one case only death had not yet come Genji’s way and the -scenes of that day haunted him long afterwards with hideous persistency. - -The ceremony took place in the last week of the eighth month. Seeing -that from Aoi’s father all the soft brightness of this autumn morning -was hid in the twilight of despair and well knowing what thoughts must -be passing through his mind, Genji came to him and pointing to the sky -whispered the following verse: ‘Because of all the mists that wreathe -the autumn sky I know not which ascended from my lady’s bier, -henceforth upon the country of the clouds from pole to pole I gaze -with love.’ - -At last he was back in his room. He lay down, but could not sleep. His -thoughts went back over the years that he had known her. Why had he -been content lazily to assume that in the end all would go right and -meanwhile amused himself regardless of her resentment? Why had he let -year after year go by without managing even at the very end to -establish any real intimacy, any sympathy between them? The bitterest -remorse now filled his heart; but what use was it? His servants -brought him his light grey mourner’s dress and the strange thought -floated into his mind ‘What if I had died instead and not she? She -would be getting into the woman-mourner’s deep-dyed robe,’ and he -recited the poem: ‘Though light in hue the dress which in bereavement -custom bids me wear, yet black my sorrow as the gown thou wouldst have -worn;’ and as thus clad he told his rosary those about him noted that -even the dull hues of mourning could not make him look peaked or drab. -He read many sūtras in a low voice, among them the liturgy to -Samantabhadra as Dispenser of the Dharmadhātu Samādhi, which he -recited with an earnestness more impressive in its way than the -dexterous intonation of the professional cleric. Next he visited the -new-born child and took some comfort in the reflection that she -had at least left behind her this memorial of their love. Genji did -not attempt to go even for the day to the Nijō-in, but remained buried -in recollections and regrets with no other occupation save the -ordering of masses for her soul. He did however bring himself to write -a few letters, among them one to Rokujō. The Virgin Elect was already -in charge of the Guardsmen of the Gate and would soon be passed on by -them to the Palace-in-the-Fields. Rokujō accordingly made her -daughter’s situation an excuse for sending no reply.[19] He was now so -weary of life and its miseries that he seriously contemplated the -taking of priestly vows, and might perhaps have done so, had there not -been a new bond which seemed to tie him irrevocably to the world. But -stay, there was the girl Murasaki too, waiting for him in the wing of -his palace. How unhappy she must have been during all this long time! -That night lying all alone within his royal curtains, though watchmen -were going their rounds not far away, he felt very lonely and -remembering that ‘autumn is no time to lie alone,’ he sent for the -sweetest voiced among the chaplains of the palace. His chanting -mingled with the sounds of early dawn was indeed of almost unendurable -beauty. But soon the melancholy of late autumn, the murmur of the -rising wind took possession of him, and little used to lonely nights -he found it hard to keep his bed till morning. Looking out he saw that -a heavy mist lay over the garden beds; yet despite the mist it was -clear that something was tied to the stem of a fine chrysanthemum not -far away. It was a letter written on dark blue paper.[20] The -messenger had left it there and gone away. ‘What a charming idea!’ he -was thinking when he suddenly recognized the hand. It was from -Rokujō. She began by saying she did not think, having regard to her -daughter’s situation, that he would be surprised at her long delay in -answering his previous note. She added an acrostic poem in which, -playing upon the word chrysanthemum (_kiku_) she told him of her -distress at hearing (_kiku_) of his bereavement. ‘The beauty of the -morning’ she ended, ‘turned my thoughts more than ever towards you and -your sorrow; that is why I could not choose but answer you.’ It was -written even more elegantly than usual; but he tossed it aside. Her -condolences wounded him, for after what he had seen he knew that they -could not be sincere. Nevertheless he felt that it would be too harsh -to break off all communication with her; that he should do so would in -fact tend to incriminate her, and this was the last thing he desired. -After all, it was probably not _that_ at all which had brought about -the disaster; maybe Aoi’s fate was sealed in any case. If only he had -chanced never to see or hear the fatal operation of her spirit! As it -was, argue with himself as he might, he doubted whether he would ever -be able to efface the impression of what had been revealed to him at -that hideous scene. - -He had the excuse that he was still in deep mourning and that to -receive a letter from him would inconvenience her at this stage of her -daughter’s Purification. But after turning the matter over in his mind -for a long while, he decided that it would be unfeeling not to answer -a letter which had evidently been written with the sole object of -giving him pleasure and on a paper lightly tinted with brown he wrote: -‘Though I have let so many days slip by, believe me that you have not -been absent from my thoughts. If I was reluctant to answer your -letter, it was because, as a mourner, I was loath to trespass upon the -sanctity which now surrounds your home, and this I trusted that -you would understand. Do not brood overmuch upon what has happened; -for “go we late or soon, more frail our lives than dew-drops hanging -in the morning light.” For the present, think of it no more. I say -this now, because it is not possible for us to meet.’ - -She received the letter at her daughter’s place of preparation, but -did not read it till she was back in her own house. At a glance she -knew at what he was hinting. So he too accused her! And at last the -hideous conviction of her own guilt forced itself upon her acceptance. -Her misery increased tenfold. - -If even Genji had reason to believe in her guilt, her brother-in-law, -the ex-Emperor, must already have been informed. What was he thinking -of her? Her dead husband, Prince Zembō, had been the brother whom he -had loved best. He had accepted the guardianship of the little girl -who was now about to be consecrated and at his brother’s earnest -entreaty had promised to undertake her education and indeed treat her -as though she were his own child. The old Emperor had constantly -invited the widowed lady and her daughter to live with him in the -Palace, but she was reluctant to accept this offer, which indeed was -somewhat impracticable. Meanwhile she allowed herself to listen to -Genji’s youthful addresses and was soon living in constant torment and -agitation lest her indiscretion should be discovered. During the whole -period of this escapade she was in such a state of mingled excitement -and apprehension that she scarcely knew what she was doing. In the -world at large she had the reputation of being a great beauty -and this, combined with her exalted lineage, brought to the -Palace-in-the-Fields, so soon as it was known that she had repaired -thither with her daughter, a host of frivolous dandies from the Court, -who made it their business to force upon her their fashionable -attentions morning, noon and night. Genji heard of this and did -not blame them. He could only think it was a thousand pities that a -woman endowed with every talent and charm, should take it into her -head that she had done with the world and prepare to remove herself to -so remote a place. He could not help thinking that she would find Ise -extremely dull when she got there. - -Though the masses for Aoi’s soul were now over, he remained in -retirement till the end of the seven weeks. He was not used to doing -nothing and the time hung heavy on his hands. Often he sent for Tō no -Chūjō to tell him all that was going on in the world, and among much -serious information Chūjō would often seek to distract him by -discussing the strange escapades in which they had sometimes shared. - -On one of these occasions he indulged in some jokes at the expense of -the ancient lady-of-the-bedchamber with whom Genji had so indiscreetly -become involved. ‘Poor old lady!’ Genji protested; ‘it is too bad to -make fun of her in this way. Please do not do it.’ But all the same he -had to admit to himself that he could never think of her without -smiling. Then Chūjō told him the whole story of how he had followed -and watched him on that autumn night, the first after the full -moon,[21] and many other stories besides of his own adventures and -other people’s. But in the end they fell to talking of their common -loss, and agreeing that taken all in all life was but a sad business -they parted in tears. - -Some weeks afterwards on a gloomy wet evening Chūjō strode into the -room looking somewhat self-conscious in the light grey winter cloak -and breeches which he was to-day wearing for the first time.[22] Genji -was leaning against the balustrade of the balcony above the main -western door. For a long while he had been gazing at the frost-clad -gardens which surrounded the house. A high wind was blowing and -swift showers dashed against the trees. Near to tears he murmured -to himself the line ‘Tell me whether her soul be in the rain or -whether in the clouds above!’[23] And as Chūjō watched him sitting -there, his chin resting upon his hand, he thought the soul of one who -had been wedded to so lovely a youth would not indeed have borne quite -to renounce the scene of her earthly life and must surely be hovering -very near him. Still gazing with eager admiration Chūjō came to -Genji’s side. He noticed now that though his friend had not in any -other way abated the plainness of his dress, he had to-day put on a -coloured sash. This streak of deep red showed up against his grey -cloak (which though still a summer one[24] was of darker colour than -that which he had lately been wearing) in so attractive a way that -though the effect was very different from that of the magnificent -attires which Genji had affected in happier days, yet Chūjō could not -for a long while take his eyes off him. At last he too gazed up at the -stormy sky, and remembering the Chinese verse which he had heard Genji -repeat he recited the poem: ‘Though to rain her soul be turned, yet -where in the clouded vault of heaven is that one mist-wreath which is -she?’ And Genji answered: ‘Since she whom once we knew beyond the -country of the clouds is fled, two months of storm and darkness now -have seared the wintry earth below.’ - -The depth of Genji’s feeling was evident. Sometimes Chūjō had -thought it was merely dread of the old Emperor’s rebukes—coupled with -a sense of obligation towards Aoi’s father whose kindness had always -been so marked and also towards the Princess her mother, who had -cherished him with an unfailing patience and fondness—that had made it -difficult for him to break off a relationship which was in fact -becoming very irksome. Often indeed Genji’s apparent indifference to -Aoi had been very painful to him. Now it was evident to him that she -had never ceased to hold an important place in his affections, and -this made him deplore more bitterly than ever the tragedy of her early -death. Whatever he did and wherever he went he felt that a light was -gone out of his life and he was very despondent. - -Among the withered undergrowth in the garden Genji found to his -delight a few gentians still blossoming and after Chūjō was gone he -plucked some and bade the wet-nurse Saisō give them to the child’s -grandmother, together with the verse: ‘This gentian flower that -lingered amid the withered grasses of the hedge I send you in -remembrance of the autumn that is passed.’ ‘To you’ he added ‘it will -seem a poor thing in contrast to the flowers that are gone.’ The -Princess looked at her grandson’s innocent smiling face and thought -that in beauty he was not far behind the child she had lost. Already -her tears were pouring faster than a stormy wind shakes down the dry -leaves from a tree, and when she read Genji’s message they flowed -faster still. This was her answer: ‘New tears, but tears of joy it -brings,—this blossom from a meadow that is now laid waste.’ - -Still in need of some small employment to distract his thoughts, -though it was already getting dark he began a letter to Princess -Asagao who, he felt sure, must long ago have been told of his -bereavement. Although it was a long time since he had heard from her -he made no reference to their former friendship; his letter was indeed -so formal that he allowed the messenger to read it before he -started. It was written on Chinese paper tinted sky-blue. With it was -the poem ‘When I look back upon an autumn fraught with diverse sorrows -I find no dusk dimmed with such tears as I to-night have shed.’ He -took great pains with his handwriting and her ladies thought it a -shame that so elegant a note should remain unanswered. In the end she -reached the same conclusion. ‘Though my heart goes out towards you in -your affliction,’ she answered, ‘I see no cause to abandon my -distrust.’ And to this she added the poem ‘Since I heard that the -mists of autumn had vanished and left desolate winter in your house, I -have thought often of you as I watched the streaming sky.’ This was -all, and it was written hastily, but to Genji, who for so long had -received no news from her, it gave as much pleasure as the longest and -most ingenious epistle. - -It is in general the unexplored that attracts us, and Genji tended to -fall most deeply in love with those who gave him least encouragement. -The ideal condition for the continuance of his affection was that the -beloved, much occupied elsewhere, should grant him no more than an -occasional favour. There was one[25] who admirably fulfilled these -conditions, but unfortunately her high rank and conspicuous position -in society brought with them too many material difficulties. But -little Murasaki was different. There was no need to bring her up on -this principle. He had not during the long days of his mourning ever -forgotten her and he knew that she must be feeling very dull without -him. But he regarded her merely as an orphan child whose care he had -undertaken and it was a comfort to him to think that here at least was -someone he could leave for a little while without anxiously wondering -all the time whether he would get into trouble. - -It was now quite dark, and gathering the people of the house round the -great lamp he got them to tell him stories. There was among them a -gentlewoman named Chūnagon with whom he had for years been secretly in -love. He still felt drawn towards her, but at such a time there could -of course be no thought of any closer tie. Seeing now that he was -looking despondent she came over to him and when they had talked for a -while of various matters at large, Genji said to her: ‘During these -last weeks, when all has been quiet in the house, I have grown so used -to the company of you gentlewomen that if a time comes when we can no -longer meet so frequently, I shall miss you very much. That was why I -was feeling particularly depressed; though indeed whichever way I turn -my thoughts I find small matter for consolation!’ Here he paused and -some of the ladies shed a few tears. At last one of them said: ‘I -know, my Lord, how dark a cloud has fallen upon your life and would -not venture to compare our sorrow with yours. But I would have you -remember what it must mean to us that henceforward you will never....’ -‘Do not say never’ answered Genji kindly. ‘I do not forget my friends -so easily as that. If there are any among you who, mindful of the -past, wish still to serve in this house, they may count upon it that -so long as I live I shall never desert them.’ And as he sat gazing -into the lamplight, with tears a-glitter in his eyes, they felt they -were fortunate indeed in having such a protector. - -There was among these gentlewomen a little orphan girl who had been -Aoi’s favourite among all her maids. Well knowing how desolate the -child must now be feeling he said to her kindly: ‘Whose business is it -now but mine to look after little Miss Até?’ The girl burst into -tears. In her short tunic, darker than the dresses the others were -wearing, with black neckerchief and dark blue breeches she was a -charming figure. ‘I hope’ continued Genji ‘that there are some who -despite the dull times they are likely to have in this house will -choose, in memory of the past, to devote themselves to the care of the -little prince whom I am leaving behind. If all who knew his mother are -now to be dispersed his plight will be more wretched than before.’ -Again he promised never to forget them, but they knew well enough that -his visits would be few and far between, and felt very despondent. - -That night he distributed among these waiting-ladies and among all the -servants at the Great Hall according to their rank and condition -various keepsakes and trifles that had belonged to their young -mistress, giving to each whatever he thought most likely to keep her -memory alive, without regard to his own preferences and dislikes in -the household. - -He had determined that he could not much longer continue this mode of -life and must soon return to his own palace. While his servants were -dragging out his coach and his gentlemen assembling in front of his -rooms, as though on purpose to delay him a violent rainstorm began, -with a wind that tore the last leaves from the trees and swept them -over the earth with wild rapidity. The gentlemen who had assembled in -front of the house were soon drenched to the skin. He had meant to go -to the Palace, then to the Nijō-in and return to sleep at the Great -Hall. But on such a night this was impossible, and he ordered his -gentlemen to proceed straight to the Nijō-in where he would join them -subsequently. As they trooped off each of them felt (though none of -them was likely to be seeing the Great Hall for by any means the last -time) that to-day a chapter in his life was closed. Both the Minister -and his wife, when they heard that Genji was not returning that night, -also felt that they had reached a new and bitter stage in the progress -of their affliction. To Aoi’s mother he sent this letter: ‘The -ex-Emperor has expressed a strong desire to see me and I feel bound to -go to the Palace. Though I shall not be absent for many days, yet it -is now so long a time since I left this house that I feel dazed at the -prospect of facing the great world once more. I could not go without -informing you of my departure, but am in no condition to pay you a -visit.’ The Princess was still lying with closed eyes, her thoughts -buried in the profoundest gloom. She did not send a reply. Presently -Aoi’s father came to Genji’s apartments. He found it very hard to bear -up, and during the interview clung fast to his son-in-law’s sleeve -with an air of dependence which was pathetic to witness. After much -hesitation he began at last to say: ‘We old men are prone to tears -even when small matters are amiss; you must not wonder then that under -the weight of so terrible a sorrow I sometimes find myself breaking -into fits of weeping which I am at a loss to control. At such moments -of weakness and disarray I had rather be where none can see me, and -that is why I have not as yet ventured even to pay my respects to his -Majesty your good father. If opportunity offers, I beg you to explain -this to him. To be left thus desolate in the last years of life is a -sore trial, a very sore trial indeed....’ The effort which it cost him -to say these words was distressing for Genji to watch and he hastened -to assure the old Minister that he would make matters right at the -Court. ‘Though I do not doubt,’ he added, ‘that my father has already -guessed the reason of your absence.’ As it was still raining heavily -the Minister urged him to start before it grew quite dark. But Genji -would not leave the house till he had taken a last look at the inner -rooms. His father-in-law followed him. In the space beyond Aoi’s -curtained seat, packed away behind a screen, some thirty gentlewomen -all clad in dark grey weeds were huddled together, forlorn and tearful. -‘These hapless ladies,’ said the Minister, turning to Genji, -‘though they take some comfort in the thought that you are leaving -behind you one whose presence will sometimes draw you to this house, -well know that it will never again be your rightful home, and this -distresses them no less than the loss of their dear mistress. For -years they had hoped against hope that you and she would at last be -reconciled. Consider then how bitter for them must be the day of this, -your final departure.’ ‘Let them take heart’ said Genji; ‘for whereas -while my lady was alive I would often of set purpose absent myself -from her in the vain hope that upon my return I should find her less -harshly disposed towards me, now that she is dead I have no longer any -cause to shun this house, as soon you shall discover.’ - -When he had watched Genji drive away, Aoi’s father went to her -bedroom. All her things were just as she had left them. On a stand in -front of the bed writing materials lay scattered about. There were -some papers covered with Genji’s handwriting, and these the old man -clasped with an eagerness that made some of the gentlewomen who had -followed him smile even in the midst of their grief. The works that -Genji had written out were all masterpieces of the past, some Chinese, -some Japanese; some written in cursive, some in full script; they -constituted indeed an astonishing display of versatile penmanship. The -Minister gazed with an almost religious awe at these specimens of -Genji’s skill, and the thought that he must henceforth regard the -young man whom he adored as no longer a member of his household and -family must at that moment have been very painful to him. - -Among these manuscripts was a copy of Po Chü-i’s “Everlasting -Wrong”[26] and beside the words ‘The old pillow, the old coverlet -with whom shall he now share?’ Genji had written the poem: ‘Mournful -her ghost that journeying now to unfamiliar realms must flee the couch -where we were wont to rest.’ While beside the words ‘The white petals -of the frost’ he had written: ‘The dust shall cover this bed; for no -longer can I bear to brush from it the nightly dew of my tears.’ - -Aoi’s ladies were gathered together in groups of two or three in each -of which some gentlewoman was pouring out her private griefs and -vexations. ‘No doubt, as his Excellency the Minister told us, Prince -Genji will come to us sometimes, if only to see the child. But for my -part I doubt whether he will find much comfort in such visits....’ So -one of them was saying to her friends. And soon there were many -affecting scenes of farewell between them, for it had been decided -that for the present they were all of them to go back to their homes. - -Meanwhile Genji was with his father in the Palace. ‘You are very thin -in the face,’ said the ex-Emperor as soon as he saw him. ‘I am afraid -you have overtaxed your strength by too much prayer and fasting,’ and -in a state of the deepest concern he at once began pressing all kinds -of viands and cordials upon him, showing with regard to his health and -indeed his affairs in general a solicitude by which Genji could not -help feeling touched. - -Late that night he at last arrived at the Nijō-in. Here he found -everything garnished and swept; his men-servants and maids were -waiting for him at the door. All the gentlewomen of the household at -once presented themselves in his apartments. They seemed to have vied -with one another which should look the gayest and smartest, and their -finery contrasted pleasantly with the sombre and dispiriting attire of -the unfortunate ladies whom he had left behind him at the Great Hall. - -Having changed out of his court dress, he went at once to the western -wing. Not only was Murasaki’s winter costume most daintily designed, -but her pretty waiting-maids and little companions were so handsomely -equipped as to reflect the greatest credit on Shōnagon’s management; -and he saw with satisfaction that such matters might with perfect -safety be left in her hands. Murasaki herself was indeed exquisitely -dressed. ‘How tall you have grown since last I saw you!’ he said and -pulled up her little curtain-of-honour. He had been away so long that -she felt shy with him and turned her head aside. But he would not for -the world have had her look otherwise than she looked at that moment, -for as she sat in profile with the lamplight falling upon her face he -realized with delight that she was becoming the very image of her whom -from the beginning he had loved best. Coming closer to her side he -whispered to her: ‘Some time or other I want to tell you about all -that has been happening to me since I went away. But it has all been -very terrible and I am too tired to speak of it now, so I am going -away to rest for a little while in my own room. From to-morrow onwards -you will have me to yourself all day long; in fact, I expect you will -soon grow quite tired of me.’ - -‘So far, so good’ thought Shōnagon when she heard this speech. But she -was still very far from easy in her mind. She knew that there were -several ladies of very great influence with whom Genji was on terms of -friendship and she feared that when it came to choosing a second wife, -he would be far more likely to take one of these than to remember her -own little mistress; and she was not at all satisfied. - -When Genji had retired to the eastern wing, he sent for a certain Lady -Chūjō to rub his limbs and then went to bed. Next morning he wrote to -the nurses of Aoi’s child and received from them in reply a touching -account of its beauty and progress; but the letter served only to -awaken in him useless memories and regrets. Towards the end of the day -he felt very restless and the time hung heavily on his hands, but he -was in no mood to resume his secret rovings and such an idea did not -even occur to him. In Murasaki none of his hopes had been -disappointed; she had indeed grown up into as handsome a girl as you -could wish to see, nor was she any longer at an age when it was -impossible for him to become her lover. He constantly hinted at this, -but she did not seem to understand what he meant. - -He still had plenty of time on his hands, and the whole of it was now -spent in her society. All day long they played together at draughts or -word-picking, and even in the course of these trivial pursuits she -showed a quickness of mind and beauty of disposition which continually -delighted him; but she had been brought up in such rigid seclusion -from the world that it never once occurred to her to exploit her -charms in any more adult way. - -Soon the situation became unendurable, and though he knew that she -would be very much upset he determined somehow or another to get his -own way. - -There came a morning when the gentleman was already up and about, but -the young lady was still lying a-bed. Her attendants had no means of -knowing that anything out of the ordinary had happened, for it had -always been Genji’s habit to go in and out of her room just as he -chose. They naturally assumed that she was not feeling well and were -glancing at her with sympathy when Genji arrived carrying a -writing-box which he slipped behind the bed curtains. He at once -retired, and the ladies also left the room. Seeing that she was alone -Murasaki slowly raised her head. There by her pillow was the -writing-box and tied to it with ribbon, a slender note. Listlessly she -detached the note and unfolding it read the hastily scribbled poem: -‘Too long have we deferred this new emprise, who night by night -till now have lain but with a shift between.’ - -That _this_ was what Genji had so long been wanting came to her as a -complete surprise and she could not think why he should regard the -unpleasant thing that had happened last night as in some way the -beginning of a new and more intimate friendship between them. Later in -the morning he came again. ‘Is something the matter with you?’ he -asked. ‘I shall be very dull to-day if you cannot play draughts with -me.’ But when he came close to her she only buried herself more deeply -than ever under the bedclothes. He waited till the room was empty and -then bending over her he said ‘Why are you treating me in this surly -way? I little expected to find you in so bad a humour this morning. -The others will think it very strange if you lie here all day,’ and he -pulled aside the scarlet coverlet beneath which she had dived. To his -astonishment he found that she was bathed in sweat; even the hair that -hung across her cheeks was dripping wet. ‘No! This is too much,’ he -said; ‘what a state you have worked yourself up into!’ But try as he -would to coax her back to reason he could not get a word out of her, -for she was really feeling very vexed with him indeed. ‘Very well -then,’ he said at last, ‘if that is how you feel I will never come to -see you again,’ and he pretended to be very much mortified and -humiliated. Turning away, he opened the writing-box to see whether she -had written any answer to his poem, but of course found none. He -understood perfectly that her distress was due merely to extreme youth -and inexperience, and was not at all put out. All day long he sat near -her trying to win back her confidence, and though he had small success -he found even her rebuffs in a curious way very endearing. - -At nightfall, it being the Day of the Wild Boar, the festival -cakes[27] were served. Owing to Genji’s bereavement no great display -was made, but a few were brought round to Murasaki’s quarters in an -elegant picnic-basket. Seeing that the different kinds were all mixed -up together Genji came out into the front part of the house and -calling for Koremitsu said to him: ‘I want you to take these cakes -away and bring me some more to-morrow evening; only not nearly so many -as this, and all of one kind.[28] This is not the right evening for -them.’ He smiled as he said these words and Koremitsu was quick-witted -enough at once to guess what had happened. He did not however think -that it would be discreet to congratulate his master in so many words, -and merely said: ‘It is true enough that if you want to make a good -beginning you must eat your cakes on the proper day. The day of the -Rat is certainly very much to the purpose.[29] Pray how many am I to -bring?’ When Genji answered ‘Divide by three[30] and you will get the -answer,’ Koremitsu was no longer in any doubt, and hastily retired, -leaving Genji amused at the practised air with which he invariably -handled matters of this kind. He said nothing to anyone, but returning -to his private house made the cakes there with his own hands. - -Genji was beginning to despair of ever restoring her confidence and -good humour. But even now, when she seemed as shy of him as on -the night when he first stole her from her home, her beauty fascinated -him and he knew that his love for her in past days had been but a -particle compared with what he had felt since yesterday. - -How strange a thing is the heart of man! For now it would have seemed -to him a calamity if even for a single night he had been taken from -Murasaki’s side; and only a little while ago.... - -Koremitsu brought the cakes which Genji had ordered very late on the -following night. He was careful not to entrust them to Shōnagon, for -he thought that such a commission might embarrass a grown woman. -Instead, he sent for her daughter Miss Ben and putting all the cakes -into one large perfume-box he bade her take them secretly to her -mistress. ‘Be sure to put them close by her pillow, for they are lucky -cakes and must not be left about the house. Promise me not to do -anything silly with them.’ Miss Ben thought all this very odd, but -tossing her head she answered ‘When, pray, did you ever know me to be -silly,’ and she walked off with the box. Being quite a young girl and -completely innocent as regards matters of this kind she marched -straight up to her mistress’s bed and, remembering Koremitsu’s -instructions, pushed the box through the curtains and lodged it safely -by the pillow. It seemed to her that there was someone else there as -well as Murasaki. ‘No doubt,’ thought she ‘Prince Genji has come as -usual to hear her repeat her lessons.’ - -As yet no one in the household save Koremitsu had any knowledge of the -betrothal. But when next day the box was found by the bed and brought -into the servant’s quarters some of those who were in closest touch -with their master’s affairs at once guessed the secret. Where did -these little dishes come from, each set on its own little carved -stand? and who had been at such pains to make these dainty and -ingenious cakes? Shōnagon, though she was shocked at this casual way -of slipping into matrimony, was overjoyed to learn that Genji’s -strange patronage of her young mistress had at last culminated in a -definite act of betrothal, and her eyes brimmed with tears of -thankfulness and delight. All the same, she thought he might at least -have taken the trouble to inform her old nurse, and there was a good -deal of grumbling in the household generally at an outside retainer -such as Koremitsu having got wind of the matter first. - -During the days that followed he grudged even the short hours of -attendance which he was obliged to put in at the Palace and in his -father’s rooms, discovering (much to his own surprise) that save in -her presence he could no longer enjoy a moment’s peace. The friends -whom he had been wont to visit showed themselves both surprised and -offended by this unexplained neglect, but though he had no wish to -stand ill with them he now found that even a remote prospect of having -to absent himself from his palace for a single night was enough to -throw him quite out of gear; and all the time he was away his spirits -were at the very lowest ebb and he looked for all the world as though -he were sickening from some strange illness. To all invitations or -greetings he invariably replied that he was at present in no fit mood -for company (which was naturally taken as an allusion to his recent -loss) or that he must now be gone, for someone with whom he had -business was already awaiting him. - -The Minister of the Right was aware that his youngest daughter[31] was -still pining for Prince Genji and he said one day to Princess Kōkiden: -‘While his wife was alive we were bound of course to discourage her -friendship with him in every way we could. But the position is now -quite changed and I feel that as things are there would be much -to be said for such a match.’ But Kōkiden had always hated Genji and -having herself arranged that her sister should enter the Palace,[32] -she saw no reason why this plan should suddenly be abandoned. Indeed -from this moment onwards she became obstinately determined that the -girl should be given to the Emperor and to no one else. Genji indeed -still retained a certain partiality towards her; but though it grieved -him to hear that he had made her unhappy he had not at present any -spare affection to offer her. Life, he had come to the conclusion, was -not long enough for diversions and experiments; henceforward he would -concentrate. He had moreover received a terrible warning of the -dangers which might accrue from such jealousies and resentments as his -former way of life had involved. He thought with great tenderness and -concern of Lady Rokujō’s distress; but it was clear to him that he -must beware of ever again allowing her to regard him as her true haven -of refuge. If however she would renew their friendship in quite new -terms, permitting him to enjoy her company and conversation at such -times as he could conveniently arrange to do so, he saw no reason why -they should not sometimes meet. - -Society at large knew that someone was living with him, but her -identity was quite unknown. This was of no consequence; but Genji felt -that sooner or later he ought to let her father Prince Hyōbukyō know -what had become of her and decided that before he did so it would be -best to celebrate her Initiation. This was done privately, but he was -at pains that every detail of the ceremony should be performed with -due splendour and solemnity, and though the outside world was not -invited it was as magnificent an affair as it well could be. But ever -since their betrothal Murasaki had shown a certain shyness and -diffidence in his presence. She could not help feeling sorry that -after all the years during which they had got on so well together and -been such close friends he should suddenly take this strange idea into -his head, and whenever her eyes met his she hastily averted them. He -tried to make a joke of the matter, but to her it was very serious -indeed and weighed heavily upon her mind. Her changed attitude towards -him was indeed somewhat comic; but it was also very distressing, and -one day he said: ‘Sometimes it seems as though you had forgotten all -the long years of our friendship and I had suddenly become as new to -you as at the start’; and while thus he scolded her the year drew to a -close. On New Year’s Day he paid the usual visits of ceremony to his -father, to the Emperor and to the Heir Apparent. Next he visited the -Great Hall. The old Minister made no reference to the new year, but at -once began to speak of the past. In the midst of his loneliness and -sorrow he was so deeply moved even by this hasty and long deferred -visit that though he strove hard to keep his composure it was more -than he could compass to do. Looking fondly at his son-in-law he -thought that the passage of each fresh year did but add new beauty to -this fair face. They went together into the inner rooms, where his -entry surprised and delighted beyond measure the disconsolate ladies -who had remained behind. Next they visited the little prince who was -growing into a fine child; his merry face was indeed a pleasure to -see. His resemblance to the Heir Apparent was certainly very striking -and Genji wondered whether it had been noticed. - -Aoi’s things were still as she had left them. His New Year clothes had -as in former years been hung out for him on the clothes-frame. Aoi’s -clothes-frame which stood empty beside it wore a strangely desolate -air. A letter from the Princess her mother was now brought to him: -‘To-day,’ she said, ‘our bereavement was more than ever present -to my mind, and though touched at the news of your visit, I fear that -to see you would but awaken unhappy recollections.’ ‘You will -remember,’ she continued, ‘that it was my custom to present you with a -suit of clothes on each New Year’s Day. But in these last months my -sight has been so dimmed with tears that I fear you will think I have -matched the colours very ill. Nevertheless I beg that though it be for -to-day only you will suffer yourself to be disfigured by this -unfashionable garb ...’ and a servant held out before him a second[33] -suit, which was evidently the one he was expected to wear to-day. The -under-stuff was of a most unusual pattern and mixture of colours and -did not at all please him; but he could not allow her to feel that she -had laboured in vain, and at once put the suit on. It was indeed -fortunate that he had come to the Great Hall that day, for he could -see that she had counted on it. In his reply he said: ‘Though I came -with the hope that you would be the first friend I should greet at -this new springtide, yet now that I am here too many bitter memories -assail me and I think it wiser that we should not meet.’ To this he -added an acrostic poem in which he said that with the mourning dress -which he had just discarded so many years of friendship were cast -aside that were he to come to her[34] he could but weep. To this she -sent in answer an acrostic poem in which she said that in this new -season when all things else on earth put on altered hue, one thing -alone remained as in the months gone by—her longing for the child who -like the passing year had vanished from their sight. - -But though hers may have been the greater grief we must not think that -there was not at that moment very deep emotion on both sides. - -[1] We learn in Chapter XXXIV that he was made Commander of the -Bodyguard at the age of twenty-one. He is now twenty-two. - -[2] Genji’s son by Fujitsubo (supposed by the world to be the -Emperor’s child) had been made Heir Apparent. - -[3] An Emperor upon his succession was obliged to send one unmarried -daughter or grand-daughter to the Shintō Temple at Ise, another to the -Shintō Temple at Kamo. See Appendix II. - -[4] She was seven years older than Genji. - -[5] a Daughter of Prince Momozono. See above, p. 68. - -[6] We learn later that he was a son of Iyo no Kami. - -[7] Father of Princess Asagao; brother of the ex-Emperor and therefore -Genji’s paternal uncle. - -[8] The clash of coaches took place at the Purification. The actual -_matsuri_ (Festival) takes place some days later. - -[9] I.e. astrologically. - -[10] _Kokinshū_ 509. - -[11] The clash of the chariots at the Festival of Purification. -Probably a quotation. - -[12] The jealous person is unconscious of the fatal effects which his -jealousy is producing. - -[13] Members of the Imperial family were not allowed to leave the -Capital without the consent of the Emperor. - -[14] A temporary building erected afresh for each new Virgin a few -miles outside Kyoto. She spent several years there before proceeding -to Ise. - -[15] The Chinese version of the Sanskrit _Saddharma Pundarika Sutra_; -see _Sacred Books of the East_, Vol. 21. - -[16] The lying-in jacket. - -[17] These presents (_ubuyashinai_) were given on the third, fifth and -ninth nights. - -[18] The ceremony of investing the newly elected officials. - -[19] Had she corresponded with someone who was in mourning, she would -herself have become unclean and been disqualified from attending upon -her daughter the Vestal Virgin. - -[20] Used in writing to people who were in mourning. - -[21] See p. 182. - -[22] Winter clothes are begun on the first day of the tenth month. - -[23] From a poem to a dead lady, by Liu Yü-hsi (A.D. 772–842). - - _I saw you first standing at the window of Yü Liang’s tower;_ - _Your waist was slender as the willow-trees that grow at - Wu-ch‘ang._ - _My finding you and losing you were both like a dream;_ - _Oh tell me if your soul dwells in the rain, or whether in the - clouds above!_ - -[24] A husband in mourning may not wear winter clothes. The mourning -lasts for three months. - -[25] Fujitsubo. - -[26] Murasaki quotes the line in the form in which it occurs in -Japanese MSS. of Po Chü-i’s poem. The Chinese editions have a slightly -different text. Cf. Giles’s translation, _History of Chinese -Literature_, p. 172. - -[27] On the Day of the Boar in the tenth month it was the custom to -serve little cakes of seven different kinds, to wit: Large bean, -mungo, dolicho, sesamun, chestnut, persimmon, sugar-starch. - -[28] On the third night after the first cohabitation it was the custom -to offer up small cakes (all of one kind and colour) to the god -Izanagi and his sister Izanami. - -[29] First, because the Rat comes at the beginning of the series of -twelve animal signs; secondly, because ‘Rat’ is written with a -character that also means ‘baby.’ - -[30]The phrase which I have translated ‘Divide by three’ also means -‘One of three’ i.e. of the Three Mysteries (Birth, _Marriage_, Death). -That is why Koremitsu was ‘no longer in any doubt.’ But many other -explanations of the passage have been given. It is indeed one of the -three major difficulties enumerated by the old-fashioned Genji teachers. - -[31] Oborozukiyo. See above, p. 242. - -[32] I.e. become a concubine of the Emperor. - -[33] In addition to the one hanging on the frame. - -[34] _Kiteba_, ‘were he to come,’ also means ‘should he wear it.’ - - - - - APPENDIX I - - - A.D. 978 (?) Murasaki born. - - A.D. 994 (?) Marries Fujiwara no Nobutaka. - - A.D. 1001 Nobutaka dies. - - A.D. 1005 (?) She becomes lady-in-waiting to the Empress Akiko, - then a girl of sixteen. - - A.D. 1007–1010 Keeps a diary, which survives. - - A.D. 1008 Book I of the _Tale of Genji_ read to the Emperor. - - A.D. 1025 Murasaki still at Court. - - A.D. 1031 Murasaki no longer at Court and perhaps dead. - - - - - APPENDIX II - - The Vestal Virgins of Ise and Kamo. - - -So important a part do these ladies play in the Tale of Genji that the -reader may perhaps wish to know exactly what they were. I may say at -the outset that I have used the term ‘vestal’ merely for convenience. -These Virgins were not guardians of a sacred fire. - -_Ise_.—Upon the accession of a new Emperor, a princess of the Imperial -House (preferably a daughter of the Emperor) was sent to be priestess -of the great Shintō shrines at Ise. According to the _Nihongi_ (Bk. V; -Emperor Sūjin 6th year[1]) ‘The gods Amaterasu and Ōkunidama were -formerly both worshipped in the Emperor’s Palace Hall. But the Emperor -Sūjin was frightened of having so much divine power concentrated in -one place. Accordingly he entrusted the worship of Amaterasu to the -Princess Toyosuku-iri, bidding her carry it out in the village of -Kasanui in Yamato.’ Subsequently Amaterasu expressed a desire to be -moved to Ise. - -The Virgin was usually about twelve years old at the time of her -appointment. Cases however are recorded in which she was an infant of -one year old; or again, a woman of twenty-eight. Her office lasted till - - (1) The Emperor died or resigned - (2) She herself died or became disabled - (3) Either of her parents died - (4) She misconducted herself. - -Thus in A.D. 541 the Vestal, a certain Princess Iwane, misconducted -herself with Prince Mubaragi and was replaced. The process of -preparing the Virgin for her office lasted three years. She was first -of all, after a preliminary purification in running water handed -over to the City guards. Meanwhile, just outside the Capital, -a special place of purification was built for her, called the -Palace-in-the-Fields. After a second River Purification she took up -her residence in this temporary Palace and stayed there till the time -came for her to settle at Ise. Before the journey to Ise she was again -purified in the River, and she appeared at the Imperial Palace to -receive at the Emperor’s hands the ‘Comb of Parting.’ No Virgin of Ise -was appointed after 1342. - -_Kamo_.—The Virgin of Kamo, first instituted in A.D. 818 was a replica -of the Ise Virgin. She too had her Palace-in-the-Fields, three years -of purification, etc. The practice of sending a Virgin to Kamo was -discontinued in 1204. - -Upon both Virgins curious speech-taboos were imposed. Thus they called - - death, ‘recovery’ - illness, ‘taking a rest’ - weeping, ‘dropping salt water’ - blood, ‘sweat’ - to strike, ‘to fondle’ - a tomb, ‘an earth heap’ - meat, ‘vegetables’ - -All words connected with Buddhism were taboo. Thus Buddha himself was -called ‘The Centre’; Buddhist scriptures were called ‘stained paper’; -a pagoda, ‘araragi’ (meaning unknown); a temple, ‘a tile-covered -place’; a priest (ironically), ‘hair-long’; a nun, ‘female hair-long’; -fasting, ‘partial victuals.’ - -To both Virgins was attached an important retinue of male -officials. These were appointed by the Emperor and no doubt acted as -his agents and informers in the districts of Ise and Kamo. - -Probably the Ise Virgin was a very ancient institution which later -proved useful for political ends. The Virgin of Kamo, who does not -appear on the scene till the ninth century, was presumably instituted -simply as a means of spreading Court influence. - -[1] 92 B.C. according to the usual chronology, which is however purely -fictitious. - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes. - - - 1. Italicized text is indicated with leading and trailing underscores. - - 2. Footnotes have been renumbered and placed at the end of each - chapter. - - 3. The bastard-title page prior to the main title page and the - half-title page preceding the main text have both been omitted. - They contained the words “THE TALE OF GENJI”. - - 4. The original landscape orientation of the genealogical tables - has changed to a portrait orientation by the transcriber in - order to provide a better view for eReaders. Each table has - has been separated by two blank lines for clarity. - - 5. In order to facilitate word wrapping, ellipses in the middle of - a sentence have been replaced with a group of three periods. This - group has a leading and, unless a comma is present, trailing blank - space added. Ellipses at the end of a sentence do not have a - leading blank space, but closing punctuation has been added if - needed. - - 6. Except as mentioned above and in the Change List that follows, - every effort has been made to replicate this first-edition text - as faithfully as possible, including non-standard punctuation, - inconsistently hyphenated words, and other inconsistencies. - - - - -Change List: - - - Page 7 - of ‘governess changed to - of ‘governess’ - - Page 9 - PREFACE 9 changed to - PREFACE 7 - - Page 69 - lack of influence... changed to - lack of influence....’ - - Page 95 - reason’ said Gengi. changed to - reason’ said Genji. - - Page 102 - joins Mount Katsuragi and Mount Kombu changed to - joins Mount Katsuragi and Mount Kombu. - - Page 114 - steward’s son, and tell changed to - steward’s son, ‘and tell - - Page 130 - There could be on harm in this interchange changed to - There could be no harm in this interchange - - Page 137 - and that blurr of shimmering changed to - and that blur of shimmering - - Page 179 - it was very diasppointing to lose changed to - it was very disappointing to lose - - Page 228 - off the scent. And this opinion changed to - off the scent.’ And this opinion - - Page 232 - modern Wu-ch’ang in Hupeh. changed to - modern Wu-ch‘ang in Hupeh. - - Page 242 - ‘Oh, how you frightened me? she cried. changed to - ‘Oh, how you frightened me,’ she cried. - - Page 263 - consent of the Emperor changed to - consent of the Emperor. - - Page 275 - deep-dyed robe, and he recited the poem: changed to - deep-dyed robe,’ and he recited the poem: - - Page 293 - sickening for some strange illness. changed to - sickening from some strange illness. - - Page 294 - her father Prince Hyōbukyo changed to - her father Prince Hyōbukyō - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF GENJI *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Tale of Genji</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Murasaki</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Translator: Arthur Waley</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 13, 2021 [eBook #66057]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Ronald Grenier (This file was produced from images generously made available by Google Books/Stanford University Libraries.)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF GENJI ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img class="w100" src="./images/cover.jpg" alt="cover image" /> -</div> - -<p class="small noindent">Transcriber Note: The cover image was created -by the transcriber from the original cover and elements of the title page. -It is placed in the public domain.</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp100"> - <img class="w100" src="./images/title.png" alt="title page" /> -</div> - - -<div class="title-page"> - -<h1>THE<br />TALE OF GENJI</h1> - -<p class="center mt2 smcap">By</p> - -<p class="center larger mt_25">LADY MURASAKI</p> - -<p class="center smaller mt2">TRANSLATED FROM THE JAPANESE BY</p> - -<p class="center">ARTHUR WALEY</p> - -<p class="mt4 center"> - <img src="./images/logo.png" alt="logo" class="center_5em" /></p> - -<p class="p3 center smaller mt6">BOSTON AND NEW YORK</p> -<p class="center">HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY</p> -<p class="center">The Riverside Press Cambridge</p> -<p class="center">1925</p> -</div> - -<p class="center mt4">To<br /> -BERYL DE ZOETE</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_7"><i>{7}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="PREFACE">PREFACE</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">READERS of the <cite>Diaries of Court Ladies of Old Japan</cite>, translated by -Madame Omori and Professor Doi, will remember that the second of the -three diaries is that of a certain Murasaki Shikibu. The little that -is known of this lady’s life has been set forth by Miss Amy Lowell -in her Introduction to that book. A few dates, most of them very -insecure, will be found in Appendix I of this volume. It is, however, -certain that Murasaki was born in the last quarter of the tenth -century, that she lost her husband in 1001, and that a few years later -she became lady-in-waiting to the Empress Akiko. We know that she was -chosen for this post on account of her proficiency in Chinese, a -subject which the young Empress was anxious to study. Akiko was then -about sixteen, so that Murasaki’s position in the house was what, -in our parlance, we should call that of -‘governess<a id="Close_Quote1"></a><ins title="Original has no closing quote.">’</ins> -rather than of -lady-in-waiting. Akiko, though officially espoused to the Emperor, -was still living at home, and her father soon began to pay somewhat -embarrassing attentions to the new governess. From the Diary we know -that on one occasion at any rate his solicitations were refused. Was -the <cite>Tale of Genji</cite> or any part of it already written when Murasaki -came to Court? We only know that in a passage of the Diary which -apparently refers to the year 1008 she speaks of her novel having -been read out loud to the Emperor. His majesty’s comment (‘This is -a learned lady; she must have been reading the Chronicle of Japan’) -shows that what was read to him must have been the opening chapter of -the tale. For in the whole work there is only one sentence which could -possibly remind any one of the <cite>Nihongi</cite> (‘Chronicle of Japan’), and -that is the conclusion of Chapter I. So though we may be certain that -the first few books were already written in 1008, it is quite possible -that <span class="pagenum"><i>{8}</i></span> the whole fifty-four were not finished till long afterwards. -But from the <cite>Sarashina Diary</cite>, the first of the three contained in -the <cite>Court Ladies of Old Japan</cite>, we know that the <cite>Tale of Genji</cite> in -its complete form was already a classic in the year 1022. The unknown -authoress of this diary spent her childhood in a remote province. Her -great pleasure was to read romances; but except at the Capital they -were hard to come by. She prays fervently to Buddha to bring her -quickly to Kyoto, and let her read ‘dozens and dozens of stories.’ -In 1022 she at last arrives at Court and her wildest dreams are -fulfilled. Packed in a big box her aunt sends round ‘the fifty-odd -chapters of <cite>Genji</cite>’ and a whole library of shorter fairy-tales and -romances. ‘Are there really such people as this in the world? Were -Genji my lover, though he should come to me but once in the whole -year, how happy I should be! Or were I Lady Ukifune in her mountain -home, gazing as the months go by at flowers, red autumn leaves, -moonlight and snow; happy, despite loneliness and misfortune, in the -thought that at any moment the wonderful letter might come....’</p> - -<p>Such were the <i>rêveries</i> of one who read the <cite>Tale of Genji</cite> more than -nine hundred years ago. I think that, could they but read it in the -original, few readers would feel that in all those centuries the charm -of the book had in any way evaporated. The task of translation in -such a case is bound to be arduous and discouraging; but I have all -the time been spurred by the belief that I am translating by far the -greatest novel of the East, and one which, even if compared with -the fiction of Europe, takes its place as one of the dozen greatest -masterpieces of the world.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{9}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - - -<table summary="Contents"> - <tbody><tr> - <td></td> - <td></td> - <td class="tdpg small">PAGE</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td class="leftt">PREFACE</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a id="PREFACE_7" href="#page_7"><ins title="Original has '9'">7</ins></a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td class="leftt">LIST OF MOST IMPORTANT PERSONS</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#page_11">11</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td class="leftt">GENEALOGICAL TABLES</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#page_13">13</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="small">CHAPTER</td> - <td></td> - <td></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="rightt">I.</td> - <td class="leftt">KIRITSUBO</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#page_17">17</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="rightt">II.</td> - <td class="leftt">THE BROOM-TREE</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#page_39">39</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="rightt">III.</td> - <td class="leftt">UTSUSEMI</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#page_81">81</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="rightt">IV.</td> - <td class="leftt">YŪGAO</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#page_92">92</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="rightt">V.</td> - <td class="leftt">MURASAKI</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#page_135">135</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="rightt">VI.</td> - <td class="leftt">THE SAFFRON-FLOWER</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#page_180">180</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="rightt">VII.</td> - <td class="leftt">THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#page_211">211</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="rightt">VIII.</td> - <td class="leftt">THE FLOWER FEAST</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#page_239">239</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="rightt">IX.</td> - <td class="leftt">AOI</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#page_250">250</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td class="leftt">APPENDICES</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#page_297">297</a></td> - </tr></tbody> - -</table> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_11"><i>{11}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IMPORTANT_PERSONS">LIST OF MOST IMPORTANT PERSONS</h2> -<p class="center smaller">(ALPHABETICAL)</p> -</div> - - -<table summary="List of most important persons"> - <tbody><tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Aoi, Princess</td> - <td class="leftt">Genji’s wife.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Asagao, Princess</td> - <td class="leftt">Daughter of Prince Momozono. Courted in vain by - Genji from his 17th year onward.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Emperor, The</td> - <td class="leftt">Genji’s father.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Fujitsubo</td> - <td class="leftt">The Emperor’s consort. Loved by Genji. Sister of Prince - Hyōbukyō; aunt of Murasaki.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Genji, Prince</td> - <td class="leftt">Son of the Emperor and his concubine Kiritsubo.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Hyōbukyō, Prince</td> - <td class="leftt">Brother of Fujitsubo; father of Murasaki.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Iyo no Suke</td> - <td class="leftt">Husband of Utsusemi.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Ki no Kami</td> - <td class="leftt">Son of Iyo no Kami, also called Iyo no Suke.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Kiritsubo</td> - <td class="leftt">Concubine of the Emperor; Genji’s mother.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Kōkiden</td> - <td class="leftt">The Emperor’s original consort; later supplanted by Kiritsubo - and Fujitsubo successively.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Koremitsu</td> - <td class="leftt">Genji’s retainer.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Left, Minister of the</td> - <td class="leftt">Father of Aoi.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Momozono, Prince</td> - <td class="leftt">Father of Princess Asagao.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Murasaki</td> - <td class="leftt">Child of Prince Hyōbukyō. Adopted by Genji. Becomes his - second wife. <span class="pagenum"><i>{12}</i></span></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Myōbu</td> - <td class="leftt">A young Court lady who introduces Genji to Princess - Suyetsumuhana.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Nokiba no Ogi</td> - <td class="leftt">Ki no Kami’s sister.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Oborozukiyo, Princess</td> - <td class="leftt">Sister of Kōkiden.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Ōmyōbu</td> - <td class="leftt">Fujitsubo’s maid.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Right, Minister of the</td> - <td class="leftt">Father of Kōkiden.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Rokujō, Princess</td> - <td class="leftt">Widow of the Emperor’s brother, Prince Zembō. - Genji’s mistress from his 17th year onward.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Shōnagon</td> - <td class="leftt">Murasaki’s nurse.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Suyetsumuhana, Princess</td> - <td class="leftt">Daughter of Prince Hitachi. A timid and - eccentric lady.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Tō no Chūjō</td> - <td class="leftt">Genji’s brother-in-law and great friend.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Ukon</td> - <td class="leftt">Yūgao’s maid.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Utsusemi</td> - <td class="leftt">Wife of the provincial governor, Iyo no Suke. Courted by - Genji.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="smcap leftt">Yūgao</td> - <td class="leftt">Mistress first of Tō no Chūjō then of Genji. Dies bewitched.</td> - </tr></tbody> - -</table> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_13"><i>{13}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="GENE_TABLE">GENEALOGICAL TABLES</h2> -<p class="noindent"><img src="./images/gene.png" width="100%" alt="Genealogical graph of the -Emperor’s siblings, the Minister of the Right’s family, a former emperor’s family, and Iyo no Kami’s -family" /></p> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_17"><i>{17}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" title="CHAPTER I KIRITSUBO" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br /> -<span class="larger">KIRITSUBO<a id="FNanchor_I_1" href="#Footnote_I_1" class="fnanchor">1</a></span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">AT the Court of an Emperor (he lived it matters not when) there was -among the many gentlewomen of the Wardrobe and Chamber one, who though -she was not of very high rank was favoured far beyond all the rest; so -that the great ladies of the Palace, each of whom had secretly hoped -that she herself would be chosen, looked with scorn and hatred upon -the upstart who had dispelled their dreams. Still less were her former -companions, the minor ladies of the Wardrobe, content to see her -raised so far above them. Thus her position at Court, preponderant -though it was, exposed her to constant jealousy and ill will; and -soon, worn out with petty vexations, she fell into a decline, growing -very melancholy and retiring frequently to her home. But the Emperor, -so far from wearying of her now that she was no longer well or gay, -grew every day more tender, and paid not the smallest heed to those -who reproved him, till his conduct became the talk of all the land; -and even his own barons and courtiers began to look askance at an -attachment so ill-advised. They whispered among themselves that in the -Land Beyond the Sea such happenings had led to <span class="pagenum"><i>{18}</i></span> riot and disaster. -The people of the country did indeed soon have many grievances to -show: and some likened her to Yang Kuei-fei, the mistress of Ming -Huang.<a id="FNanchor_I_2" href="#Footnote_I_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> Yet, for all this discontent, so great was the sheltering -power of her master’s love that none dared openly molest her.</p> - -<p>Her father, who had been a Councillor, was dead. Her mother, who never -forgot that the father was in his day a man of some consequence, -managed despite all difficulties to give her as good an upbringing as -generally falls to the lot of young ladies whose parents are alive and -at the height of fortune. It would have helped matters greatly if -there had been some influential guardian to busy himself on the -child’s behalf. Unfortunately, the mother was entirely alone in the -world and sometimes, when troubles came, she felt very bitterly the -lack of anyone to whom she could turn for comfort and advice. But to -return to the daughter. In due time she bore him a little Prince who, -perhaps because in some previous life a close bond had joined them, -turned out as fine and likely a man-child as well might be in all the -land. The Emperor could hardly contain himself during the days of -waiting.<a id="FNanchor_I_3" href="#Footnote_I_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> But when, at the earliest possible moment, the child was -presented at Court, he saw that rumour had not exaggerated its beauty. -His eldest born prince was the son of Lady Kōkiden, the daughter of -the Minister of the Right, and this child was treated by all with the -respect due to an undoubted Heir Apparent. But he was not so fine a -child as the new prince; moreover the Emperor’s great affection for -the new child’s mother made him feel the boy to be in a peculiar sense -his own possession. Unfortunately she was not of the same rank as the -courtiers who waited upon him in <span id="Page_19" class="pagenum"><i>{19}</i></span> the Upper Palace, so that despite -his love for her, and though she wore all the airs of a great lady, it -was not without considerable qualms that he now made it his practice -to have her by him not only when there was to be some entertainment, -but even when any business of importance was afoot. Sometimes indeed -he would keep her when he woke in the morning, not letting her go back -to her lodging, so that willy-nilly she acted the part of a -Lady-in-Perpetual-Attendance.</p> - -<p>Seeing all this, Lady Kōkiden began to fear that the new prince, for -whom the Emperor seemed to have so marked a preference, would if she -did not take care soon be promoted to the Eastern Palace.<a id="FNanchor_I_4" href="#Footnote_I_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> But she -had, after all, priority over her rival; the Emperor had loved her -devotedly and she had born him princes. It was even now chiefly the -fear of her reproaches that made him uneasy about his new way of life. -Thus, though his mistress could be sure of his protection, there were -many who sought to humiliate her, and she felt so weak in herself that -it seemed to her at last as though all the honours heaped upon her had -brought with them terror rather than joy.</p> - -<p>Her lodging was in the wing called Kiritsubo. It was but natural that -the many ladies whose doors she had to pass on her repeated journeys -to the Emperor’s room should have grown exasperated; and sometimes, -when these comings and goings became frequent beyond measure, it would -happen that on bridges and in corridors, here or there along the way -that she must go, strange tricks were played to frighten her or -unpleasant things were left lying about which spoiled the dresses of -the ladies who accompanied her.<a id="FNanchor_I_5" href="#Footnote_I_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> Once indeed some one locked the -door of a <span class="pagenum"><i>{20}</i></span> portico, so that the poor thing wandered this way and -that for a great while in sore distress. So many were the miseries -into which this state of affairs now daily brought her that the -Emperor could no longer endure to witness her vexations and moved her -to the Kōrōden. In order to make room for her he was obliged to shift -the Chief Lady of the Wardrobe to lodgings outside. So far from -improving matters he had merely procured her a new and most embittered -enemy!</p> - -<p>The young prince was now three years old. The Putting on of the -Trousers was performed with as much ceremony as in the case of the -Heir Apparent. Marvellous gifts flowed from the Imperial Treasury and -Tribute House. This too incurred the censure of many, but brought no -enmity to the child himself; for his growing beauty and the charm of -his disposition were a wonder and delight to all who met him. Indeed -many persons of ripe experience confessed themselves astounded that -such a creature should actually have been born in these latter and -degenerate days.</p> - -<p>In the summer of that year the lady became very downcast. She -repeatedly asked for leave to go to her home, but it was not granted. -For a year she continued in the same state. The Emperor to all her -entreaties answered only ‘Try for a little while longer.’ But she was -getting worse every day, and when for five or six days she had been -growing steadily weaker her mother sent to the Palace a tearful plea -for her release. Fearing even now that her enemies might contrive to -put some unimaginable shame upon her, the sick lady left her son -behind and prepared to quit the Palace in secret. The Emperor knew -that the time had come when, little as he liked it, he must let her -go. But that she should slip away without a word of farewell was more -than he could bear, and he <span class="pagenum"><i>{21}</i></span> hastened to her side. He found her -still charming and beautiful, but her face very thin and wan. She -looked at him tenderly, saying nothing. Was she alive? So faint was -the dwindling spark that she scarcely seemed so. Suddenly forgetting -all that had happened and all that was to come, he called her by a -hundred pretty names and weeping showered upon her a thousand -caresses; but she made no answer. For sounds and sights reached her -but faintly, and she seemed dazed, as one that scarcely remembered she -lay upon a bed. Seeing her thus he knew not what to do. In great -trouble and perplexity he sent for a hand litter. But when they would -have laid her in it, he forbad them, saying ‘There was an oath between -us that neither should go alone upon the road that all at last must -tread. How can I now let her go from me?’ The lady heard him and ‘At -last!’ she said; ‘Though that desired <em>at last</em> be come, because I go -alone how gladly would I live!’</p> - -<p>Thus with faint voice and failing breath she whispered. But though she -had found strength to speak, each word was uttered with great toil and -pain. Come what might, the Emperor would have watched by her till the -end, but that the priests who were to read the Intercession had -already been dispatched to her home. She must be brought there before -nightfall, and at last he forced himself to let the bearers carry her -away. He tried to sleep but felt stifled and could not close his eyes. -All night long messengers were coming and going between her home and -the Palace. From the first they brought no good news, and soon after -midnight announced that this time on arriving at the house they had -heard a noise of wailing and lamentation, and learned from those -within that the lady had just breathed her last. The Emperor lay -motionless as though he had not understood.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{22}</i></span></p> - -<p>Though his father was so fond of his company, it was thought better -after this event that the Prince should go away from the Palace. He -did not understand what had happened, but seeing the servants all -wringing their hands and the Emperor himself continually weeping, he -felt that it must have been something very terrible. He knew that even -quite ordinary separations made people unhappy; but here was such a -dismal wailing and lamenting as he had never seen before, and he -concluded that this must be some very extraordinary kind of parting.</p> - -<p>When the time came for the funeral to begin, the girl’s mother cried -out that the smoke of her own body would be seen rising beside the -smoke of her child’s bier. She rode in the same coach with the Court -ladies who had come to the funeral. The ceremony took place at Atago -and was celebrated with great splendour. So overpowering was the -mother’s affection that so long as she looked on the body she still -thought of her child as alive. It was only when they lighted the pyre -she suddenly realized that what lay upon it was a corpse. Then, though -she tried to speak sensibly, she reeled and almost fell from the -coach, and those with her turned to one another and said ‘At last she -knows.’</p> - -<p>A herald came from the palace and read a proclamation which promoted -the dead lady to the Third Rank. The reading of this long proclamation -by the bier was a sad business. The Emperor repented bitterly that he -had not long ago made her a Lady-in-Waiting, and that was why he now -raised her rank by one degree. There were many who grudged her even -this honour; but some less stubborn began now to recall that she had -indeed been a lady of uncommon beauty; and others, that she had very -gentle and pleasing manners; while some went so far as to say it was a -shame that anybody should have disliked so sweet <span class="pagenum"><i>{23}</i></span> a lady, and that -if she had not been singled out unfairly from the rest, no one would -have said a word against her.</p> - -<p>The seven weeks of mourning were, by the Emperor’s order, minutely -observed. Time passed, but he still lived in rigid seclusion from the -ladies of the Court. The servants who waited upon him had a sad life, -for he wept almost without ceasing both day and night.</p> - -<p>Kōkiden and the other great ladies were still relentless, and went -about saying ‘it looked as though the Emperor would be no less -foolishly obsessed by her memory than he had been by her person.’ He -did indeed sometimes see Kōkiden’s son, the first-born prince. But -this only made him long the more to see the dead lady’s child, and he -was always sending trusted servants, such as his own old nurse, to -report to him upon the boy’s progress. The time of the autumn equinox -had come. Already the touch of the evening air was cold upon the skin. -So many memories crowded upon him that he sent a girl, the daughter of -his quiver-bearer, with a letter to the dead lady’s house. It was -beautiful moonlit weather, and after he had despatched the messenger -he lingered for a while gazing out into the night. It was at such -times as this that he had been wont to call for music. He remembered -how her words, lightly whispered, had blended with those strangely -fashioned harmonies, remembered how all was strange, her face, her -air, her form. He thought of the poem which says that ‘real things in -the darkness seem no realer than dreams’ and he longed for even so dim -a substance as the dream-life of those nights.</p> - -<p>The messenger had reached the gates of the house. She pushed them back -and a strange sight met her eyes. The old lady had for long been a -widow and the whole charge of keeping the domain in repair had fallen -upon her daughter. But since her death the mother, sunk in age and -despair, <span class="pagenum"><i>{24}</i></span> had done nothing to the place, and everywhere the weeds -grew high; and to all this desolation was added the wildness of the -autumn gale. Great clumps of mugwort grew so thick that only the -moonlight could penetrate them. The messenger alighted at the entrance -of the house. At first the mother could find no words with which to -greet her, but soon she said: ‘Alas, I have lingered too long in the -world! I cannot bear to think that so fine a messenger as you have -pressed your way through the dewy thickets that bar the road to my -house,’ and she burst into uncontrollable weeping. Then the -quiver-bearer’s daughter said ‘One of the Palace maids who came here, -told his Majesty that her heart had been torn with pity at what she -saw. And I, Madam, am in like case.’ Then after a little hesitation -she repeated the Emperor’s message: “For a while I searched in the -darkness of my mind, groping for an exit from my dream; but after long -pondering I can find no way to wake. There is none here to counsel me. -Will you not come to me secretly? It is not well that the young prince -should spend his days in so desolate and sad a place. Let him come -too!” This he said and much else, but confusedly and with many sighs; -and I, seeing that the struggle to hide his grief from me was costing -him dear, hurried away from the Palace without hearing all. But here -is a letter that he sent.’</p> - -<p>‘My sight is dim’ said the mother. ‘Let me hold His letter to the -light.’ The letter said:</p> - -<p>‘I had thought that after a while there might be some blurring, some -slight effacement. But no. As days and months go by, the more -senseless, the more unendurable becomes my life. I am continually -thinking of the child, wondering how he fares. I had hoped that his -mother and I together would watch over his upbringing. Will you not -take her place in this, and bring him to me as <span class="pagenum"><i>{25}</i></span> a memory of the -past?’ Such was the letter, and many instructions were added to it -together with a poem which said ‘<i>At the sound of the wind that binds -the cold dew on Takagi moor, my heart goes out to the tender lilac -stems</i>.’</p> - -<p>It was of the young prince that he spoke in symbol; but she did not -read the letter to the end. At last the mother said ‘Though I know -that long life means only bitterness, I have stayed so long in the -world that even before the Pine Tree of Takasago I should hide my head -in shame. How then should I find courage to go hither and thither in -the great Palace of a Hundred Towers? Though the august summons should -call me time and again, myself I could not obey. But the young prince -(whether he may have heard the august wish I know not) is impatient to -return, and, what is small wonder, seems very downcast in this place. -Tell his Majesty this, and whatever else of my thoughts you have here -learnt from me. For a little child this house is indeed a sorry -place....’ ‘They say that the child is asleep’ the quiver-bearer’s -daughter answered. ‘I should like to have seen him and told the -Emperor how he looks; but I am awaited at the Palace and it must be -late.’</p> - -<p>She was hastening away, but the mother: ‘Since even those who wander -in the darkness of their own black thoughts can gain by converse a -momentary beam to guide their steps, I pray you sometimes to visit me -of your own accord and when you are at leisure. In years past it was -at times of joy and triumph that you came to this house, and now this -is the news you bring! Foolish are they indeed who trust to fortune! -From the time she was born until his death, her father, who knew his -own mind, would have it that she must go to Court and charged me again -and again not to disappoint his wishes if he were to die. And so, -though I thought that the lack of a guardian would bring <span class="pagenum"><i>{26}</i></span> her into -many difficulties, I was determined to carry out his desire. At Court -she found that favours only too great were to be hers, and all the -while must needs endure in secrecy the tokens of inhuman malice; till -hatred had heaped upon her so heavy a load of cares that she died as -it were murdered. Indeed, the love that in His wisdom He deigned to -show her (or so sometimes it seems to me in the uncomprehending -darkness of my heart) was crueller than indifference.’</p> - -<p>So she spoke, till tears would let her speak no more; and now the -night had come.</p> - -<p>‘All this’ the girl answered ‘He himself has said; and further: “That -thus against My will and judgment I yielded helplessly to a passion so -reckless that it caused men’s eyes to blink was perhaps decreed for -the very reason that our time was fated to be so short; it was the -wild and vehement passion of those who are marked down for instant -separation. And though I had vowed that none should suffer because of -my love, yet in the end she bore upon her shoulders the heavy hatred -of many who thought that for her sake they had been wronged.”</p> - -<p>‘So again and again have I heard the Emperor speak with tears. But now -the night is far spent and I must carry my message to the Palace -before day comes.’</p> - -<p>So she, weeping too, spoke as she hurried away. But the sinking moon -was shining in a cloudless sky, and in the grass-clumps that shivered -in the cold wind, bell-crickets tinkled their compelling cry. It was -hard to leave these grass-clumps, and the quiver-bearer’s daughter, -loth to ride away, recited the poem which says ‘Ceaseless as the -interminable voices of the bell-cricket, all night till dawn my tears -flow.’ The mother answered ‘Upon the thickets that teem with myriad -insect voices falls the dew of a Cloud Dweller’s tears’; for the -people of the Court are <span class="pagenum"><i>{27}</i></span> called <i>dwellers above the clouds</i>. Then -she gave the messenger a sash, a comb and other things that the dead -lady had left in her keeping,—gifts from the Emperor which now, since -their use was gone, she sent back to him as mementoes of the past. The -nurse-maids who had come with the boy were depressed not so much at -their mistress’s death as at being suddenly deprived of the daily -sights and sensations of the Palace. They begged to go back at once. -But the mother was determined not to go herself, knowing that she -would cut too forlorn a figure. On the other hand if she parted with -the boy, she would be daily in great anxiety about him. That was why -she did not immediately either go with him herself or send him to the -Palace.</p> - -<p>The quiver-bearer’s daughter found the Emperor still awake. He was, -upon pretext of visiting the flower-pots in front of the Palace which -were then in full bloom, waiting for her out of doors, while four or -five trusted ladies conversed with him.</p> - -<p>At this time it was his wont to examine morning and evening a picture -of The Everlasting Wrong,<a id="FNanchor_I_6" href="#Footnote_I_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> the text written by Teiji no In,<a id="FNanchor_I_7" href="#Footnote_I_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> with -poems by Ise<a id="FNanchor_I_8" href="#Footnote_I_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> and Tsurayuki,<a id="FNanchor_I_9" href="#Footnote_I_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> both in Yamato speech, and in that -of the men beyond the sea, and the story of this poem was the common -matter of his talk.</p> - - -<p>Now he turned to the messenger and asked eagerly for all her news. And -when she had given him a secret and faithful account of the sad place -whence she had come, she handed him the mother’s letter: ‘His -Majesty’s gracious commands I read with reverence deeper than I can -express, but their purport has brought great darkness and confusion -<span class="pagenum"><i>{28}</i></span> to my mind.’ All this, together with a poem in which she compared -her grandchild to a flower which has lost the tree that sheltered it -from the great winds, was so wild and so ill-writ as only to be -suffered from the hand of one whose sorrow was as yet unhealed.</p> - -<p>Again the Emperor strove for self-possession in the presence of his -messenger. But as he pictured to himself the time when the dead lady -first came to him, a thousand memories pressed thick about him, and -recollection linked to recollection carried him onward, till he -shuddered to think how utterly unmarked, unheeded all these hours and -days had fled.</p> - -<p>At last he said ‘I too thought much and with delight how with most -profit might be fulfilled the wish that her father the Councillor left -behind him; but of that no more. If the young Prince lives occasion -may yet be found.... It is for his long life that we must pray.’</p> - -<p>He looked at the presents she had brought back and ‘Would that like -the wizard you had brought a kingfisher-hairpin as token of your visit -to the place where her spirit dwells’ he cried, and recited the poem: -<i>Oh for a master of magic who might go and seek her, and by a message -teach me where her spirit dwells</i>.</p> - -<p>For the picture of Kuei-fei, skilful though the painter might be, was -but the work of a brush, and had no living fragrance. And though the -poet tells us that Kuei-fei’s grace was as that of ‘the hibiscus of -the Royal Lake or the willows of the Wei-yang Palace,’ the lady in the -picture was all paint and powder and had a simpering Chinesified air.</p> - -<p>But when he thought of the lost lady’s voice and form, he could find -neither in the beauty of flowers nor in the song of birds any fit -comparison. Continually he pined that fate should not have allowed -them to fulfil the vow which morning and evening was ever talked of -between <span class="pagenum"><i>{29}</i></span> them,—the vow that their lives should be as the twin birds -that share a wing, the twin trees that share a bough. The rustling of -the wind, the chirping of an insect would cast him into the deepest -melancholy; and now Kōkiden, who for a long while had not been -admitted to his chamber, must needs sit in the moonlight making music -far on into the night! This evidently distressed him in the highest -degree and those ladies and courtiers who were with him were equally -shocked and distressed on his behalf. But the offending lady was one -who stood much upon her dignity and she was determined to behave as -though nothing of any consequence had taken place in the Palace.</p> - -<p>And now the moon had set. The Emperor thought of the girl’s mother in -the house amid the thickets and wondered, making a poem of the -thought, with what feelings she had watched the sinking of the autumn -moon: ‘for even we Men above the Clouds were weeping when it sank.’</p> - -<p>He raised the torches high in their sockets and still sat up. But at -last he heard voices coming from the Watch House of the Right and knew -that the hour of the Bull<a id="FNanchor_I_10" href="#Footnote_I_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> had struck. Then, lest he should be -seen, he went into his chamber. He found he could not sleep and was up -before daybreak. But, as though he remembered the words ‘he knew not -the dawn was at his window’ of Ise’s poem,<a id="FNanchor_I_11" href="#Footnote_I_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> he showed little -attention to the affairs of his Morning Audience, scarcely touched his -dried rice and seemed but dimly aware of the viands on the great -Table, so that the carvers and waiting-men groaned to see their -Master’s plight; and all his servants, both men and women kept on -whispering to one another ‘What a senseless occupation has ours -become!’ and supposed that he was obeying some extravagant vow.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{30}</i></span></p> - -<p>Regardless of his subjects’ murmurings, he continually allowed his -mind to wander from their affairs to his own, so that the scandal of -his negligence was now as dangerous to the State as it had been -before, and again there began to be whispered references to a certain -Emperor of another land. Thus the months and days passed, and in the -end the young prince arrived at Court. He had grown up to be a child -of unrivalled beauty and the Emperor was delighted with him. In the -spring an heir to the Throne was to be proclaimed and the Emperor was -sorely tempted to pass over the first-born prince in favour of the -young child. But there was no one at Court to support such a choice -and it was unlikely that it would be tolerated by the people; it would -indeed bring danger rather than glory to the child. So he carefully -concealed from the world that he had any such design, and gained great -credit, men saying ‘Though he dotes on the boy, there is at least some -limit to his folly.’ And even the great ladies of the Palace became a -little easier in their minds.</p> - -<p>The grandmother remained inconsolable, and impatient to set out upon -her search for the place where the dead lady’s spirit dwelt, she soon -expired. Again the Emperor was in great distress; and this time the -boy, being now six years old, understood what had happened and wept -bitterly. And often he spoke sadly of what he had seen when he was -brought to visit the poor dead lady who had for many years been so -kind to him. Henceforward he lived always at the Palace. When he -became seven he began to learn his letters, and his quickness was so -unusual that his father was amazed. Thinking that now no one would -have the heart to be unkind to the child, the Emperor began to take -him to the apartments of Kōkiden and the rest, saying to them ‘Now -that his mother is dead I know that you will be nice to him.’ Thus the -boy began to <span class="pagenum"><i>{31}</i></span> penetrate the Royal Curtain. The roughest soldier, -the bitterest foeman could not have looked on such a child without a -smile, and Kōkiden did not send him away. She had two daughters who -were indeed not such fine children as the little prince. He also -played with the Court Ladies, who, because he was now very pretty and -bashful in his ways, found endless amusement, as indeed did everyone -else, in sharing his games. As for his serious studies, he soon learnt -to send the sounds of zithern and flute flying gaily to the clouds. -But if I were to tell you of all his accomplishments, you would think -that he was soon going to become a bore.</p> - -<p>At this time some Koreans came to Court and among them a -fortune-teller. Hearing this, the Emperor did not send for them to -come to the Palace, because of the law against the admission of -foreigners which was made by the Emperor Uda.<a id="FNanchor_I_12" href="#Footnote_I_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> But in strict -secrecy he sent the Prince to the Strangers’ quarters. He went under -the escort of the Secretary of the Right, who was to introduce him as -his own son. The fortune teller was astonished by the boy’s lineaments -and expressed his surprise by continually nodding his head: ‘He has -the marks of one who might become a Father of the State, and if this -were his fate, he would not stop short at any lesser degree than that -of Mighty King and Emperor of all the land. But when I look again—I -see that confusion and sorrow would attend his reign. But should he -become a great Officer of State and Counsellor of the Realm I see no -happy issue, for he would be defying those kingly signs of which I -spoke before.’</p> - -<p>The Secretary was a most talented, wise and learned scholar, and now -began to conduct an interesting conversation with the fortune teller. -They exchanged essays <span class="pagenum"><i>{32}</i></span> and poems, and the fortune-teller made a -little speech, saying ‘It has been a great pleasure to me on the eve -of my departure to meet with a man of capacities so unusual; and -though I regret my departure I shall now take away most agreeable -impressions of my visit.’ The little prince presented him with a very -nice verse of poetry, at which he expressed boundless admiration and -offered the boy a number of handsome presents. In return the Emperor -sent him a large reward from the Imperial Treasury. This was all kept -strictly secret. But somehow or other the Heir Apparent’s grandfather, -the Minister of the Right, and others of his party got wind of -it and became very suspicious. The Emperor then sent for native -fortune-tellers and made trial of them, explaining that because of -certain signs which he had himself observed he had hitherto refrained -from making the boy a prince. With one accord they agreed that he had -acted with great prudence and the Emperor determined not to set the -child adrift upon the world as a prince without royal standing or -influence upon the mother’s side. For he thought ‘My own power is very -insecure. I had best set him to watch on my behalf over the great -Officers of State.’ Thinking that he had thus agreeably settled the -child’s future, he set seriously to work upon his education, and saw -to it that he should be made perfect in every branch of art and -knowledge. He showed such aptitude in all his studies that it seemed a -pity he should remain a commoner and as it had been decided that it -would arouse suspicion if he were made a prince, the Emperor consulted -with certain doctors wise in the lore of the planets and phases of the -moon. And they with one accord recommended that he should be made a -Member of the Minamoto (or Gen) Clan. So this was done. As the years -went by the Emperor did not forget his lost lady; and though many -women were brought to <span class="pagenum"><i>{33}</i></span> the Palace in the hope that he might take -pleasure in them, he turned from them all, believing that there was -not in the world any one like her whom he had lost. There was at that -time a lady whose beauty was of great repute. She was the fourth -daughter of the previous Emperor, and it was said that her mother, the -Dowager Empress, had brought her up with unrivalled care. A certain -Dame of the Household, who had served the former Emperor, was -intimately acquainted with the young Princess, having known her since -childhood and still having occasion to observe her from without. ‘I -have served in three courts’ said the Dame ‘and in all that time have -seen none who could be likened to the departed lady, save the daughter -of the Empress Mother. She indeed is a lady of rare beauty.’ So she -spoke to the Emperor, and he, much wondering what truth there was in -it, listened with great attention. The Empress Mother heard of this -with great alarm, for she remembered with what open cruelty the -sinister Lady Kōkiden had treated her former rival, and though she did -not dare speak openly of her fears, she was managing to delay the -girl’s presentation, when suddenly she died.</p> - -<p>The Emperor, hearing that the bereaved Princess was in a very desolate -condition, sent word gently telling her that he should henceforward -look upon her as though she were one of the Lady Princesses his -daughters. Her servants and guardians and her brother, Prince -Hyōbukyō, thought that life in the Palace might distract her and would -at least be better than the gloomy desolation of her home, and so they -sent her to the Court. She lived in apartments called Fujitsubo -(Wistaria Tub) and was known by this name. The Emperor could not deny -that she bore an astonishing resemblance to his beloved. She was -however of much higher rank, so that everyone was anxious to please -her, and, whatever happened, they were prepared to grant <span class="pagenum"><i>{34}</i></span> her the -utmost licence: whereas the dead lady had been imperilled by the -Emperor’s favour only because the Court was not willing to accept her.</p> - -<p>His old love did not now grow dimmer, and though he sometimes found -solace and distraction in shifting his thoughts from the lady who had -died to the lady who was so much like her, yet life remained for him a -sad business.</p> - -<p>Genji (‘he of the Minamoto clan’), as he was now called, was -constantly at the Emperor’s side. He was soon quite at his ease with -the common run of Ladies in Waiting and Ladies of the Wardrobe, so it -was not likely he would be shy with one who was daily summoned to the -Emperor’s apartments. It was but natural that all these ladies should -vie eagerly with one another for the first place in Genji’s -affections, and there were many whom in various ways he admired very -much. But most of them behaved in too grown-up a fashion; only one, -the new princess, was pretty and quite young as well, and though she -tried to hide from him, it was inevitable that they should often meet. -He could not remember his mother, but the Dame of the Household had -told him how very like to her the girl was, and this interested his -childish fancy, and he would like to have been her great friend and -lived with her always. One day the Emperor said to her ‘Do not be -unkind to him. He is interested because he has heard that you are so -like his mother. Do not think him impertinent, but behave nicely to -him. You are indeed so like him in look and features that you might -well be his mother.’</p> - -<p>And so, young though he was, fleeting beauty took its hold upon his -thoughts; he felt his first clear predilection.</p> - -<p>Kōkiden had never loved this lady too well, and now her old enmity to -Genji sprang up again; her own children were reckoned to be of quite -uncommon beauty, but in this they were no match for Genji, who was so -lovely a <span class="pagenum"><i>{35}</i></span> boy that people called him Hikaru Genji or Genji the -Shining One; and Princess Fujitsubo, who also had many admirers, was -called Princess Glittering Sunshine.</p> - -<p>Though it seemed a shame to put so lovely a child into man’s dress, he -was now twelve years old and the time for his Initiation was come. The -Emperor directed the preparations with tireless zeal and insisted upon -a magnificence beyond what was prescribed. The Initiation of the Heir -Apparent, which had last year been celebrated in the Southern Hall, -was not a whit more splendid in its preparations. The ordering of the -banquets that were to be given in various quarters, and the work of -the Treasurer and Grain Intendant he supervised in person, fearing -lest the officials should be remiss; and in the end all was -perfection. The ceremony took place in the eastern wing of the -Emperor’s own apartments, and the Throne was placed facing towards the -east, with the seats of the Initiate to-be and his Sponsor (the -Minister of the Left) in front.</p> - -<p>Genji arrived at the hour of the Monkey.<a id="FNanchor_I_13" href="#Footnote_I_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> He looked very handsome -with his long childish locks, and the Sponsor, whose duty it had just -been to bind them with the purple filet, was sorry to think that all -this would soon be changed and even the Clerk of the Treasury seemed -loath to sever those lovely tresses with the ritual knife. The -Emperor, as he watched, remembered for a moment what pride the mother -would have taken in the ceremony, but soon drove the weak thought from -his mind.</p> - -<p>Duly crowned, Genji went to his chamber and changing into man’s dress -went down into the courtyard and performed the Dance of Homage, which -he did with such grace that tears stood in every eye. And now the -Emperor, whose grief had of late grown somewhat less insistent, was -again overwhelmed by memories of the past.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{36}</i></span></p> - -<p>It had been feared that his delicate features would show to less -advantage when he had put aside his childish dress; but on the -contrary he looked handsomer than ever.</p> - -<p>His sponsor, the Minister of the Left, had an only daughter whose -beauty the Heir Apparent had noticed. But now the father began to -think he would not encourage that match, but would offer her to Genji. -He sounded the Emperor upon this, and found that he would be very glad -to obtain for the boy the advantage of so powerful a connection.</p> - -<p>When the courtiers assembled to drink the Love Cup, Genji came and -took his place among the other princes. The Minister of the Left came -up and whispered something in his ear; but the boy blushed and could -think of no reply. A chamberlain now came over to the Minister and -brought him a summons to wait upon His Majesty immediately. When he -arrived before the Throne, a Lady of the Wardrobe handed to him the -Great White Inner Garment and the Maid’s Skirt,<a id="FNanchor_I_14" href="#Footnote_I_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> which were his -ritual due as Sponsor to the Prince. Then, when he had made him drink -out of the Royal Cup, the Emperor recited a poem in which he prayed -that the binding of the purple filet might symbolize the union of -their two houses; and the Minister answered him that nothing should -sever this union save the fading of the purple band. Then he descended -the long stairs and from the courtyard performed the Grand -Obeisance.<a id="FNanchor_I_15" href="#Footnote_I_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> Here too were shown the horses from the Royal Stables -and the hawks from the Royal Falconry, that had been decreed as -presents for Genji. At the foot of the stairs the Princes and -Courtiers were lined up to receive their bounties, and gifts of every -kind were showered upon them. That day the hampers and fruit baskets -were distributed in accordance with the Emperor’s directions by the -learned Secretary of <span class="pagenum"><i>{37}</i></span> the Right, and boxes of cake and presents lay -about so thick that one could scarcely move. Such profusion had not -been seen even at the Heir Apparent’s Initiation.</p> - -<p>That night Genji went to the Minister’s house, where his betrothal was -celebrated with great splendour. It was thought that the little Prince -looked somewhat childish and delicate, but his beauty astonished -everyone. Only the bride, who was four years older, regarded him as a -mere baby and was rather ashamed of him.</p> - -<p>The Emperor still demanded Genji’s attendance at the Palace, so he did -not set up a house of his own. In his inmost heart he was always -thinking how much nicer <em>she</em><a id="FNanchor_I_16" href="#Footnote_I_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> was than anyone else, and only -wanted to be with people who were like her, but alas no one was the -least like her. Everyone seemed to make a great deal of fuss about -Princess Aoi, his betrothed; but he could see nothing nice about her. -The girl at the Palace now filled all his childish thoughts and this -obsession became a misery to him.</p> - - -<p>Now that he was a ‘man’ he could no longer frequent the women’s -quarters as he had been wont to do. But sometimes when an -entertainment was a-foot he found comfort in hearing her voice dimly -blending with the sound of zithern or flute and felt his grown-up -existence to be unendurable. After an absence of five or six days he -would occasionally spend two or three at his betrothed’s house. His -father-in-law attributing this negligence to his extreme youth was not -at all perturbed and always received him warmly. Whenever he came the -most interesting and agreeable of the young people of the day were -asked to meet him and endless trouble was taken in arranging games to -amuse him.</p> - -<p>The Shigeisa, one of the rooms which had belonged to his mother, was -allotted to him as his official quarters in <span class="pagenum"><i>{38}</i></span> the Palace, and the -servants who had waited on her were now gathered together again and -formed his suite. His grandmother’s house was falling into decay. The -Imperial Office of Works was ordered to repair it. The grouping of the -trees and disposition of the surrounding hills had always made the -place delightful. Now the basin of the lake was widened and many other -improvements were carried out. ‘If only I were going to live here with -someone whom I liked,’ thought Genji sadly.</p> - -<p>Some say that the name of Hikaru the Shining One was given to him in -admiration by the Korean fortune-teller.<a id="FNanchor_I_17" href="#Footnote_I_17" class="fnanchor">17</a></p> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_1" href="#FNanchor_I_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> -This chapter should be read with indulgence. In it Murasaki, still -under the influence of her somewhat childish predecessors, writes in a -manner which is a blend of the Court chronicle with the conventional -fairy-tale. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_2" href="#FNanchor_I_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> -Famous Emperor of the T‘ang dynasty in China; lived <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 685–762. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_3" href="#FNanchor_I_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> -The child of an Emperor could not be shown to him for several -weeks after its birth. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_4" href="#FNanchor_I_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> -I.e. be made Heir Apparent. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_5" href="#FNanchor_I_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> -She herself was of course carried in a litter. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_6" href="#FNanchor_I_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> -A poem by the Chinese writer Po Chü-i about the death of Yang -Kuei-fei, favourite of the Emperor Ming Huang. <i>See</i> Giles, <cite>Chinese -Literature</cite>, p. 169. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_7" href="#FNanchor_I_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> -Name of the Emperor Uda after his retirement in <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 897. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_8" href="#FNanchor_I_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> -Poetess, 9th century. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_9" href="#FNanchor_I_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> -Famous poet, 883–946 <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_10" href="#FNanchor_I_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> -1 a.m. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_11" href="#FNanchor_I_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> -A poem by Lady Ise written on a picture illustrating Po Chü-i’s -<cite>Everlasting Wrong</cite>. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_12" href="#FNanchor_I_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> -Reigned 889–897. The law in question was made in 894. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_13" href="#FNanchor_I_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> -3 p.m. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_14" href="#FNanchor_I_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> -These symbolized the unmanly life of childhood which Genji had -now put behind him. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_15" href="#FNanchor_I_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> -The <i>butō</i>, a form of kowtow so elaborate as to be practically a -dance. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_16" href="#FNanchor_I_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> -Fujitsubo. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_I_17" href="#FNanchor_I_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> -This touch is reminiscent of early chronicles such as the -<cite>Nihongi</cite>, which delight in alternative explanations. In the -subsequent chapters such archaisms entirely disappear. -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_39"><i>{39}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br /> -<span class="larger">THE BROOM-TREE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">GENJI the Shining One.... He knew that the bearer of such a name could -not escape much scrutiny and jealous censure and that his lightest -dallyings would be proclaimed to posterity. Fearing then lest he -should appear to after ages as a mere good-for-nothing and trifler, -and knowing that (so accursed is the blabbing of gossips’ tongues) his -most secret acts might come to light, he was obliged always to act -with great prudence and to preserve at least the outward appearance of -respectability. Thus nothing really romantic ever happened to him and -Katano no Shōshō<a id="FNanchor_II_1" href="#Footnote_II_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> would have scoffed at his story.</p> - -<p>While he was still a Captain of the Guard and was spending most of his -time at the Palace, his infrequent visits to the Great Hall<a id="FNanchor_II_2" href="#Footnote_II_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> were -taken as a sign that some secret passion had made its imprint on his -heart. But in reality the frivolous, commonplace, straight-ahead -amours of his companions did not in the least interest him, and it was -a curious trait in his character that when on rare occasions, despite -all resistance, love did gain a hold upon him, it was always in the -most improbable and hopeless entanglement that he became involved.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{40}</i></span></p> - -<p>It was the season of the long rains. For many days there had not been -a fine moment and the Court was keeping a strict fast. The people at -the Great Hall were becoming very impatient of Genji’s long residence -at the Palace, but the young lords, who were Court pages, liked -waiting upon Genji better than upon anyone else, always managing to -put out his clothes and decorations in some marvellous new way. Among -these brothers his greatest friend was the Equerry, Tō no Chūjō, with -whom above all other companions of his playtime he found himself -familiar and at ease. This lord too found the house which his -father-in-law, the Minister of the Right, had been at pains to build -for him, somewhat oppressive, while at his father’s house he, like -Genji, found the splendours somewhat dazzling, so that he ended by -becoming Genji’s constant companion at Court. They shared both studies -and play and were inseparable companions on every sort of occasion, so -that soon all formalities were dispensed with between them and the -inmost secrets of their hearts freely exchanged.</p> - -<p>It was on a night when the rain never ceased its dismal downpour. -There were not many people about in the palace and Genji’s rooms -seemed even quieter than usual. He was sitting by the lamp, looking at -various books and papers. Suddenly he began pulling some letters out -of the drawers of a desk which stood near by. This aroused Tō no -Chūjō’s curiosity. ‘Some of them I can show to you’ said Genji, ‘but -there are others which I had rather....’ ‘It is just those which I -want to see. Ordinary, commonplace letters are very much alike and I -do not suppose that yours differ much from mine. What I want to see -are passionate letters written in moments of resentment, letters -hinting consent, letters written at dusk....’</p> - -<p>He begged so eagerly that Genji let him examine the drawers. It was -not indeed likely that he had put any <span class="pagenum"><i>{41}</i></span> very important or secret -documents in the ordinary desk; he would have hidden them away much -further from sight. So he felt sure that the letters in these drawers -would be nothing to worry about. After turning over a few of them, -‘What an astonishing variety!’ Tō no Chūjō exclaimed and began -guessing at the writers’ names, and made one or two good hits. More -often he was wrong and Genji, amused by his puzzled air, said very -little but generally managed to lead him astray. At last he took the -letters back, saying ‘But you too must have a large collection. Show -me some of yours, and my desk will open to you with better will.’ ‘I -have none that you would care to see,’ said Tō no Chūjō, and he -continued: ‘I have at last discovered that there exists no woman of -whom one can say “Here is perfection. This is indeed she.” There are -many who have the superficial art of writing a good running hand, or -if occasion requires of making a quick repartee. But there are few who -will stand the ordeal of any further test. Usually their minds are -entirely occupied by admiration for their own accomplishments, and -their abuse of all rivals creates a most unpleasant impression. Some -again are adored by over-fond parents. These have been since childhood -guarded behind lattice windows<a id="FNanchor_II_3" href="#Footnote_II_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> and no knowledge of them is allowed -to reach the outer-world, save that of their excellence in some -accomplishment or art; and this may indeed sometimes arouse our -interest. She is pretty and graceful and has not yet mixed at all with -the world. Such a girl by closely copying some model and applying -herself with great industry will often succeed in really mastering one -of the minor and ephemeral arts. Her <span class="pagenum"><i>{42}</i></span> friends are careful to say -nothing of her defects and to exaggerate her accomplishments, and -while we cannot altogether trust their praise we cannot believe that -their judgment is entirely astray. But when we take steps to test -their statements we are invariably disappointed.’</p> - -<p>He paused, seeming to be slightly ashamed of the cynical tone which he -had adopted, and added ‘I know my experience is not large, but that is -the conclusion I have come to so far.’ Then Genji, smiling: ‘And are -there any who lack even one accomplishment?’ ‘No doubt, but in such a -case it is unlikely that anyone would be successfully decoyed. The -number of those who have nothing to recommend them and of those in -whom nothing but good can be found is probably equal. I divide women -into three classes. Those of high rank and birth are made such a fuss -of and their weak points are so completely concealed that we are -certain to be told that they are paragons. About those of the middle -class everyone is allowed to express his own opinion, and we shall -have much conflicting evidence to sift. As for the lower classes, they -do not concern us.’</p> - -<p>The completeness with which Tō no Chūjō disposed of the question -amused Genji, who said ‘It will not always be so easy to know into -which of the three classes a woman ought to be put. For sometimes -people of high rank sink to the most abject positions; while others of -common birth rise to be high officers, wear self-important faces, -redecorate the inside of their houses and think themselves as good as -anyone. How are we to deal with such cases?’</p> - -<p>At this moment they were joined by Hidari no Uma no Kami and Tō -Shikibu no Jō, who said they had also come to the Palace to keep the -fast. As both of them were great lovers and good talkers, Tō no Chūjō -handed over to them the decision of Genji’s question, and in the -discussion <span class="pagenum"><i>{43}</i></span> which followed many unflattering things were said. Uma -no Kami spoke first. ‘However high a lady may rise, if she does not -come of an adequate stock, the world will think very differently of -her from what it would of one born to such honours; but if through -adverse fortune a lady of highest rank finds herself in friendless -misery, the noble breeding of her mind is soon forgotten and she -becomes an object of contempt. I think then that taking all things -into account, we must put such ladies too into the “middle class.” But -when we come to classify the daughters of Zuryō,<a id="FNanchor_II_4" href="#Footnote_II_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> who are sent to -labour at the affairs of distant provinces,—they have such ups and -downs that we may reasonably put them too into the middle class.</p> - -<p>‘Then there are Ministers of the third and fourth classes without -Cabinet rank. These are generally thought less of even than the -humdrum, ordinary officials. They are usually of quite good birth, but -have much less responsibility than Ministers of State and consequently -much greater peace of mind. Girls born into such households are -brought up in complete security from want or deprivation of any kind, -and indeed often amid surroundings of the utmost luxury and splendour. -Many of them grow up into women whom it would be folly to despise; -some have been admitted at Court, where they have enjoyed a quite -unexpected success. And of this I could cite many, many instances.’</p> - -<p>‘Their success has generally been due to their having a lot of money,’ -said Genji smiling. ‘You should have known better than to say that,’ -said Tō no Chūjō, reproving him, and Uma no Kami went on: ‘There are -some whose lineage and reputation are so high that it never occurs to -one that their education could possibly be at fault; yet when we meet -them, we find ourselves exclaiming in <span class="pagenum"><i>{44}</i></span> despair “How can they have -contrived to grow up like this?”</p> - -<p>‘No doubt the perfect woman in whom none of those essentials is -lacking must somewhere exist and it would not startle me to find her. -But she would certainly be beyond the reach of a humble person like -myself, and for that reason I should like to put her in a category of -her own and not to count her in our present classification.</p> - -<p>‘But suppose that behind some gateway overgrown with vine-weed, in a -place where no one knows there is a house at all, there should be -locked away some creature of unimagined beauty—with what excitement -should we discover her! The complete surprise of it, the upsetting of -all our wise theories and classifications, would be likely, I think, -to lay a strange and sudden enchantment upon us. I imagine her father -rather large and gruff; her brother, a surly, ill-looking fellow. -Locked away in an utterly blank and uninteresting bed-room she will be -subject to odd flights of fancy, so that in her hands the arts that -others learn as trivial accomplishments will seem strangely full of -meaning and importance; or perhaps in some particular art she will -thrill us by her delightful and unexpected mastery. Such a one may -perhaps be beneath the attention of those of you who are of flawless -lineage. But for my part I find it hard to banish her ...’ and here he -looked at Shikibu no Jō, who wondered whether the description had been -meant to apply to his own sisters, but said nothing. ‘If it is -difficult to choose even out of the top class ...’ thought Genji, and -began to doze.</p> - -<p>He was dressed in a suit of soft white silk, with a rough cloak -carelessly slung over his shoulders, with belt and fastenings untied. -In the light of the lamp against which he was leaning he looked so -lovely that one might have wished he were a girl; and they thought -that even Uma <span class="pagenum"><i>{45}</i></span> no Kami’s ‘perfect woman,’ whom he had placed in a -category of her own, would not be worthy of such a prince as Genji.</p> - -<p>The conversation went on. Many persons and things were discussed. Uma -no Kami contended that perfection is equally difficult to find in -other spheres. The sovereign is hard put to it to choose his -ministers. But he at least has an easier task than the husband, for he -does not entrust the affairs of his kingdom to one, two or three -persons alone, but sets up a whole system of superiors and subordinates.</p> - -<p>But when the mistress of a house is to be selected, a single -individual must be found who will combine in her person many diverse -qualities. It will not do to be too exacting. Let us be sure that the -lady of our choice possesses certain tangible qualities which we -admire; and if in other ways she falls short of our ideal, we must be -patient and call to mind those qualities which first induced us to -begin our courting.</p> - -<p>But even here we must beware; for there are some who in the -selfishness of youth and flawless beauty are determined that not a -dust-flick shall fall upon them. In their letters they choose the most -harmless topics, but yet contrive to colour the very texture of the -written signs with a tenderness that vaguely disquiets us. But such a -one, when we have at last secured a meeting, will speak so low that -she can scarcely be heard, and the few faint sentences that she -murmurs beneath her breath serve only to make her more mysterious than -before. All this may seem to be the pretty shrinking of girlish -modesty; but we may later find that what held her back was the very -violence of her passions.</p> - -<p>Or again, where all seems plain sailing, the perfect companion will -turn out to be too impressionable and will <span class="pagenum"><i>{46}</i></span> upon the most inappropriate -occasions display her affections in so ludicrous a way that we begin -to wish ourselves rid of her.</p> - -<p>Then there is the zealous house-wife, who regardless of her appearance -twists her hair behind her ears and devotes herself entirely to the -details of our domestic welfare. The husband, in his comings and -goings about the world, is certain to see and hear many things which -he cannot discuss with strangers, but would gladly talk over with an -intimate who could listen with sympathy and understanding, someone who -could laugh with him or weep if need be. It often happens too that -some political event will greatly perturb or amuse him, and he sits -apart longing to tell someone about it. He suddenly laughs at some -secret recollection or sighs audibly. But the wife only says lightly -‘What is the matter?’ and shows no interest.</p> - -<p>This is apt to be very trying.</p> - -<p>Uma no Kami considered several other cases. But he reached no definite -conclusion and sighing deeply he continued: ‘We will then, as I have -suggested, let birth and beauty go by the board. Let her be the -simplest and most guileless of creatures so long as she is honest and -of a peaceable disposition, that in the end we may not lack a place of -trust. And if some other virtue chances to be hers we shall treasure -it as a godsend. But if we discover in her some small defect, it shall -not be too closely scrutinized. And we may be sure that if she is -strong in the virtues of tolerance and amiability her outward -appearance will not be beyond measure harsh.</p> - -<p>‘There are those who carry forbearance too far, and affecting not to -notice wrongs which cry out for redress seem to be paragons of misused -fidelity. But suddenly a time comes when such a one can restrain -herself no longer, and leaving behind her a poem couched in pitiful -language <span class="pagenum"><i>{47}</i></span> and calculated to rouse the most painful sentiments of -remorse, she flies to some remote village in the mountains or some -desolate seashore, and for a long while all trace of her is lost.</p> - -<p>‘When I was a boy the ladies-in-waiting used to tell me sad tales of -this kind. I never doubted that the sentiments expressed in them were -real, and I wept profusely. But now I am beginning to suspect that -such sorrows are for the most part affectation. She has left behind -her (this lady whom we are imagining) a husband who is probably still -fond of her; she is making herself very unhappy, and by disappearing -in this way is causing him unspeakable anxiety, perhaps only for the -ridiculous purpose of putting his affection to the test. Then comes -along some admiring friend crying “What a heart! What depth of -feeling!” She becomes more lugubrious than ever, and finally enters a -nunnery. When she decided on this step she was perfectly sincere and -had not the slightest intention of ever returning to the world. Then -some female friend hears of it and “Poor thing” she cries; “in what an -agony of mind must she have been to do this!” and visits her in her -cell. When the husband, who has never ceased to mourn for her, hears -what she has become, he bursts into tears, and some servant or old -nurse, seeing this, bustles off to the nunnery with tales of the -husband’s despair, and “Oh Madam, what a shame, what a shame!” Then -the nun, forgetting where and what she is, raises her hand to her head -to straighten her hair, and finds that it has been shorn away. In -helpless misery she sinks to the floor, and do what she will, the -tears begin to flow. Now all is lost; for since she cannot at every -moment be praying for strength, there creeps into her mind the sinful -thought that she did ill to become a nun and so often does she commit -this sin that even Buddha must think her wickeder now than she <span class="pagenum"><i>{48}</i></span> was -before she took her vows; and she feels certain that these terrible -thoughts are leading her soul to the blackest Hell. But if the <i>karma</i> -of their past lives should chance to be strongly weighted against a -parting, she will be found and captured before she has taken her final -vows. In such a case their life will be beyond endurance unless she be -fully determined, come good or ill, this time to close her eyes to all -that goes amiss.</p> - -<p>‘Again there are others who must needs be forever mounting guard over -their own and their husband’s affections. Such a one, if she sees in -him not a fault indeed but even the slightest inclination to stray, -makes a foolish scene, declaring with indignation that she will have -no more to do with him.</p> - -<p>‘But even if a man’s fancy should chance indeed to have gone somewhat -astray, yet his earlier affection may still be strong and in the end -will return to its old haunts. Now by her tantrums she has made a rift -that cannot be joined. Whereas she who when some small wrong calls for -silent rebuke, shows by a glance that she is not unaware; but when -some large offence demands admonishment knows how to hint without -severity, will end by standing in her master’s affections better than -ever she stood before. For often the sight of our own forbearance will -give our neighbour strength to rule his mutinous affections.</p> - -<p>‘But she whose tolerance and forgiveness know no bounds, though this -may seem to proceed from the beauty and amiability of her disposition, -is in fact displaying the shallowness of her feeling: “The unmoored -boat must needs drift with the stream.” Are you not of this mind?’</p> - -<p>Tō no Chūjō nodded. ‘Some’ he said ‘have imagined that by arousing a -baseless suspicion in the mind of the beloved we can revive a waning -devotion. But this experiment is very dangerous. Those who recommend -it are <span class="pagenum"><i>{49}</i></span> confident that so long as resentment is groundless one need -only suffer it in silence and all will soon be well. I have observed -however that this is by no means the case.</p> - -<p>‘But when all is said and done, there can be no greater virtue in -woman than this: that she should with gentleness and forbearance meet -every wrong whatsoever that falls to her share.’ He thought as he said -this of his own sister, Princess Aoi; but was disappointed and piqued -to discover that Genji, whose comments he awaited, was fast asleep.</p> - -<p>Uma no Kami was an expert in such discussions and now stood preening -his feathers. Tō no Chūjō was disposed to hear what more he had to say -and was now at pains to humour and encourage him.</p> - -<p>‘It is with women’ said Uma no Kami ‘as it is with the works of -craftsmen. The wood-carver can fashion whatever he will. Yet his -products are but toys of the moment, to be glanced at in jest, not -fashioned according to any precept or law. When times change, the -carver too will change his style and make new trifles to hit the fancy -of the passing day. But there is another kind of artist, who sets more -soberly about his work, striving to give real beauty to the things -which men actually use and to give to them the shapes which tradition -has ordained. This maker of real things must not for a moment be -confused with the carver of idle toys.</p> - -<p>‘In the Painters’ Workshop too there are many excellent artists chosen -for their proficiency in ink-drawing; and indeed they are all so -clever it is hard to set one above the other. But all of them are at -work on subjects intended to impress and surprise. One paints the -Mountain of Hōrai; another a raging sea-monster riding a storm; -another, ferocious animals from the Land beyond the sea, or faces of -imaginary demons. Letting their fancy run wildly riot they have no -thought of beauty, but only of <span class="pagenum"><i>{50}</i></span> how best they may astonish the -beholder’s eye. And though nothing in their pictures is real, all is -probable. But ordinary hills and rivers, just as they are, houses such -as you may see anywhere, with all their real beauty and harmony of -form—quietly to draw such scenes as this, or to show what lies behind -some intimate hedge that is folded away far from the world, and thick -trees upon some unheroic hill, and all this with befitting care for -composition, proportion, and the like,—such works demand the highest -master’s utmost skill and must needs draw the common craftsman into a -thousand blunders. So too in handwriting, we see some who aimlessly -prolong their cursive strokes this way or that, and hope their -flourishes will be mistaken for genius. But true penmanship preserves -in every letter its balance and form, and though at first some letters -may seem but half-formed, yet when we compare them with the copy-books -we find that there is nothing at all amiss.</p> - -<p>‘So it is in these trifling matters. And how much the more in judging -of the human heart should we distrust all fashionable airs and graces, -all tricks and smartness, learnt only to please the outward gaze! This -I first understood some while ago, and if you will have patience with -me I will tell you the story.’</p> - -<p>So saying, he came and sat a little closer to them, and Genji woke up. -Tō no Chūjō, in wrapt attention, was sitting with his cheek propped -upon his hand. Uma no Kami’s whole speech that night was indeed very -much like a chaplain’s sermon about the ways of the world, and was -rather absurd. But upon such occasions as this we are easily led on -into discussing our own ideas and most private secrets without the -least reserve.</p> - -<p>‘It happened when I was young, and in an even more humble position -than I am to-day’ Uma no Kami continued. ‘I was in love with a girl -who (like the drudging, faithful <span class="pagenum"><i>{51}</i></span> wife of whom I spoke a little -while ago) was not a full-sail beauty; and I in my youthful vanity -thought she was all very well for the moment, but would never do for -the wife of so fine a fellow as I. She made an excellent companion in -times when I was at a loose end; but she was of a disposition so -violently jealous, that I could have put up with a little less -devotion if only she had been somewhat less fiercely ardent and -exacting.</p> - -<p>‘Thus I kept thinking, vexed by her unrelenting suspicions. But then I -would remember her ceaseless devotion to the interests of one who was -after all a person of no account, and full of remorse I made sure that -with a little patience on my part she would one day learn to school -her jealousy.</p> - -<p>‘It was her habit to minister to my smallest wants even before I was -myself aware of them; whatever she felt was lacking in her she strove -to acquire, and where she knew that in some quality of mind she still -fell behind my desires, she was at pains never to show her deficiency -in such a way as might vex me. Thus in one way or another she was -always busy in forwarding my affairs, and she hoped that if all down -to the last dew drop (as they say) were conducted as I should wish, -this would be set down to her credit and help to balance the defects -in her person which meek and obliging as she might be could not (she -fondly imagined) fail to offend me; and at this time she even hid -herself from strangers lest their poor opinion of her looks should put -me out of countenance.</p> - -<p>‘I meanwhile, becoming used to her homely looks, was well content with -her character, save for this one article of jealousy; and here she -showed no amendment. Then I began to think to myself “Surely, since -she seems so anxious to please, so timid, there must be some way of -giving her a fright which will teach her a lesson, so that for a while -<span class="pagenum"><i>{52}</i></span> at least we may have a respite from this accursed business.” And -though I knew it would cost me dear, I determined to make a pretence -of giving her up, thinking that since she was so fond of me this would -be the best way to teach her a lesson. Accordingly I behaved with the -greatest coldness to her, and she as usual began her jealous fit and -behaved with such folly that in the end I said to her, “If you want to -be rid for ever of one who loves you dearly, you are going the right -way about it by all these endless poutings over nothing at all. But if -you want to go on with me, you must give up suspecting some deep -intrigue each time you fancy that I am treating you unkindly. Do this, -and you may be sure I shall continue to love you dearly. It may well -be that as time goes on, I shall rise a little higher in the world and -then....”</p> - -<p>‘I thought I had managed matters very cleverly, though perhaps in the -heat of the moment I might have spoken somewhat too roughly. She -smiled faintly and answered that if it were only a matter of bearing -for a while with my failures and disappointments, that did not trouble -her at all, and she would gladly wait till I became a person of -consequence. “But it is a hard task” she said “to go on year after -year enduring your coldness and waiting the time when you will at last -learn to behave to me with some decency; and therefore I agree with -you that the time has come when we had better go each his own way.” -Then in a fit of wild and uncontrollable jealousy she began to pour -upon me a torrent of bitter reproaches, and with a woman’s savagery -she suddenly seized my little finger and bit deep into it. The -unexpected pain was difficult to bear, but composing myself I said -tragically “Now you have put this mark upon me I shall get on worse -than ever in polite society; as for promotion, I shall be considered a -disgrace to the meanest public office and unable to cut a <span class="pagenum"><i>{53}</i></span> genteel -figure in any capacity, I shall be obliged to withdraw myself -completely from the world. You and I at any rate shall certainly not -meet again,” and bending my injured finger as I turned to go, I -recited the verse “As on bent hand I count the times that we have met, -it is not one finger only that bears witness to my pain.” And she, all -of a sudden bursting into tears ... “If still in your heart only you -look for pains to count, then were our hands best employed in -parting.” After a few more words I left her, not for a moment thinking -that all was over.</p> - -<p>‘Days went by, and no news. I began to be restless. One night when I -had been at the Palace for the rehearsal of the Festival music, heavy -sleet was falling; and I stood at the spot where those of us who came -from the Palace had dispersed, unable to make up my mind which way to -go. For in no direction had I anything which could properly be called -a home. I might of course take a room in the Palace precincts; but I -shivered to think of the cheerless grandeur that would surround me. -Suddenly I began to wonder what she was thinking, how she was looking; -and brushing the snow off my shoulders, I set out for her house. I own -I felt uneasy; but I thought that after so long a time her anger must -surely have somewhat abated. Inside the room a lamp showed dimly, -turned to the wall. Some undergarments were hung out upon a large, -warmly-quilted couch, the bed-hangings were drawn up, and I made sure -that she was for some reason actually expecting me. I was priding -myself on having made so lucky a hit, when suddenly, “Not at home!”; -and on questioning the maid I learnt that she had but that very night -gone to her parents’ home, leaving only a few necessary servants -behind. The fact that she had till now sent no poem or conciliatory -message seemed to show some hardening of heart, and had already -disquieted me. <span class="pagenum"><i>{54}</i></span> Now I began to fear that her accursed suspiciousness -and jealousy had but been a stratagem to make me grow weary of her, -and though I could recall no further proof of this I fell into great -despair. And to show her that, though we no longer met, I still -thought of her and planned for her, I got her some stuff for a dress, -choosing a most delightful and unusual shade of colour, and a material -that I knew she would be glad to have. “For after all” I thought “she -cannot want to put me altogether out of her head.” When I informed her -of this purchase she did not rebuff me nor make any attempt to hide -from me, but to all my questions she answered quietly and composedly, -without any sign that she was ashamed of herself.</p> - -<p>‘At last she told me that if I went on as before, she could never -forgive me; but if I would promise to live more quietly she would take -me back again. Seeing that she still hankered after me I determined to -school her a little further yet, and said that I could make no -conditions and must be free to live as I chose. So the tug of war went -on; but it seems that it hurt her far more than I knew, for in a -little while she fell into a decline and died, leaving me aghast at -the upshot of my wanton game. And now I felt that, whatever faults she -might have had, her devotion alone would have made her a fit wife for -me. I remembered how both in trivial talk and in consideration of -important matters she had never once shown herself at a loss, how in -the dyeing of brocades she rivalled the Goddess of Tatsuta who tints -the autumn leaves, and how in needlework and the like she was not less -skilful than Tanabata, the Weaving-lady of the sky.’</p> - -<p>Here he stopped, greatly distressed at the recollection of the lady’s -many talents and virtues.</p> - -<p>‘The Weaving-lady and the Herd boy’ said Tō no Chūjō ‘enjoy a love -that is eternal. Had she but resembled the <span class="pagenum"><i>{55}</i></span> Divine Sempstress in -this, you would not, I think, have minded her being a little less -skilful with her needle. I wonder that with this rare creature in mind -you pronounce the world to be so blank a place.’</p> - -<p>‘Listen’ replied Uma no Kami ‘About the same time there was another -lady whom I used to visit. She was of higher birth than the first; her -skill in poetry, cursive writing, and lute-playing, her readiness of -hand and tongue were all marked enough to show that she was not a -woman of trivial nature; and this indeed was allowed by those who knew -her. To add to this she was not ill-looking and sometimes, when I -needed a rest from my unhappy persecutress, I used to visit her -secretly. In the end I found that I had fallen completely in love with -her. After the death of the other I was in great distress. But it was -no use brooding over the past and I began to visit my new lady more -and more often. I soon came to the conclusion that she was frivolous -and I had no confidence that I should have liked what went on when I -was not there to see. I now visited her only at long intervals and at -last decided that she had another lover.</p> - -<p>‘It was during the Godless Month,<a id="FNanchor_II_5" href="#Footnote_II_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> on a beautiful moonlight night. -As I was leaving the Palace I met a certain young courtier, who, when -I told him that I was driving out to spend the night at the -Dainagon’s, said that my way was his and joined me. The road passed my -lady’s house and here it was that he alighted, saying that he had an -engagement which he should have been very sorry not to fulfil. The -wall was half in ruins and through its gaps I saw the shadowy waters -of the lake. It would not have been easy (for even the moonbeams -seemed to loiter here!) to hasten past so lovely a place, and when he -left his coach I too left mine.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{56}</i></span></p> - -<p>‘At once this man (whom I now knew to be that other lover whose -existence I had guessed) went and sat unconcernedly on the bamboo -skirting of the portico and began to gaze at the moon. The -chrysanthemums were just in full bloom, the bright fallen leaves were -tumbling and tussling in the wind. It was indeed a scene of wonderful -beauty that met our eyes. Presently he took a flute out of the folds -of his dress and began to play upon it. Then putting the flute aside, -he began to murmur “Sweet is the shade”<a id="FNanchor_II_6" href="#Footnote_II_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> and other catches. Soon a -pleasant-sounding native zithern<a id="FNanchor_II_7" href="#Footnote_II_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> began to tune up somewhere within -the house and an ingenious accompaniment was fitted to his careless -warblings. Her zithern was tuned to the autumn-mode, and she played -with so much tenderness and feeling that though the music came from -behind closed shutters it sounded quite modern and passionate,<a id="FNanchor_II_8" href="#Footnote_II_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> and -well accorded with the soft beauty of the moonlight. The courtier was -ravished, and as he stepped forward to place himself right under her -window he turned to me and remarked in a self-satisfied way that -among the fallen leaves no other footstep had left its mark. Then -plucking a chrysanthemum, he sang:</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza small_92"> - <div class="i0">Strange that the music of your lute,</div> - <div class="i0">These matchless flowers and all the beauty of the night,</div> - <div class="i0">Have lured no other feet to linger at your door!</div> - </div><!--end stanza--> - </div><!--end poem--> -</div><!--end container--> - -<p class="noindent">and then, beseeching her pardon for his halting verses, he begged her -to play again while one was still near who longed so passionately to -hear her. When he had paid her many <span class="pagenum"><i>{57}</i></span> other compliments, the lady -answered in an affected voice with the verse:</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza small_92"> - <div class="i0">Would that I had some song that might detain</div> - <div class="i0">The flute that blends its note</div> - <div class="i0">With the low rustling of the autumn leaves.</div> - </div><!--end stanza--> - </div><!--end poem--> -</div><!--end container--> - -<p class="noindent">and after these blandishments, still unsuspecting, she took up the -thirteen-stringed lute, and tuning it to the <i>Banjiki</i> mode<a id="FNanchor_II_9" href="#Footnote_II_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> she -clattered at the strings with all the frenzy that fashion now demands. -It was a fine performance no doubt, but I cannot say that it made a -very agreeable impression upon me.</p> - -<p>‘A man may amuse himself well enough by trifling from time to time -with some lady at the Court; will get what pleasure he can out of it -while he is with her and not trouble his head about what goes on when -he is not there. This lady too I only saw from time to time, but such -was her situation that I had once fondly imagined myself the only -occupant of her thoughts. However that night’s work dissolved the last -shred of my confidence, and I never saw her again.</p> - -<p>‘These two experiences, falling to my lot while I was still so young, -early deprived me of any hope from women. And since that time my view -of them has but grown the blacker. No doubt to you at your age they -seem very entrancing, these “dew-drops on the grass that fall if they -are touched,” these “glittering hailstones that melt if gathered in -the hand.” But when you are a little older you will think as I do. -Take my advice in this at least; beware of caressing manners and soft, -entangling ways. For if you are so rash as to let them lead you -astray, you <span id="Page_58" class="pagenum"><i>{58}</i></span> will soon find yourselves cutting a very silly figure -in the world.’</p> - -<p>Tō no Chūjō as usual nodded his assent, and Genji’s smile seemed such -as to show that he too accepted Uma no Kami’s advice. ‘Your two -stories were certainly very dismal’ he said, laughing. And here Tō no -Chūjō interposed: ‘I will tell you a story about myself. There was a -lady whose acquaintance I was obliged to make with great secrecy. But -her beauty well rewarded my pains, and though I had no thought of -making her my wife I grew so fond of her that I soon found I could not -put her out of my head and she seemed to have complete confidence in -me. Such confidence indeed that when from time to time I was obliged -to behave in such a way as might well have aroused her resentment, she -seemed not to notice that anything was amiss, and even when I -neglected her for many weeks, she treated me as though I were still -coming every day. In the end indeed I found this readiness to receive -me whenever and however I came very painful, and determined for the -future to merit her strange confidence.</p> - -<p>‘Her parents were dead and this was perhaps why, since I was all she -had in the world, she treated me with such loving meekness, despite -the many wrongs I did her. I must own that my resolution did not last -long, and I was soon neglecting her worse than before. During this -time (I did not hear of it till afterwards) someone who had discovered -our friendship began to send her veiled messages which cruelly -frightened and distressed her. Knowing nothing of the trouble she was -in, although I often thought of her I neither came nor wrote to her -for a long while. Just when she was in her worst despair a child was -born, and at last in her distress she plucked a blossom of the flower -that is called “Child of my Heart” and sent it to me.’</p> - -<p>And here Tō no Chūjō’s eyes filled with tears.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{59}</i></span></p> - -<p>‘Well’ said Genji ‘and did she write a message to go with it?’ ‘Oh -nothing very out-of-the-ordinary’ said Tō no Chūjō. ‘She wrote: -“Though tattered be the hillman’s hedge, deign sometimes to look with -kindness upon the Child-flower that grows so sweetly there.” This -brought me to her side. As usual she did not reproach me, but she -looked sad enough, and when I considered the dreary desolation of this -home where every object wore an aspect no less depressing than the -wailing voices of the crickets in the grass, she seemed to me like -some unhappy princess in an ancient story, and wishing her to feel -that it was for the mother’s sake and not the child’s that I had come, -I answered with a poem in which I called the Child-flower by its other -name “Bed-flower,” and she replied with a poem that darkly hinted at -the cruel tempest which had attended this Bed-flower’s birth. She -spoke lightly and did not seem to be downright angry with me; and when -a few tears fell she was at great pains to hide them, and seemed more -distressed at the thought that I might imagine her to be unhappy than -actually resentful of my conduct towards her. So I went away with an -easy mind and it was some while before I came again. When at last I -returned she had utterly disappeared, and if she is alive she must be -living a wretched vagrant life. If while I still loved her she had but -shown some outward sign of her resentment, she would not have ended -thus as an outcast and wanderer; for I should never have dared to -leave her so long neglected, and might in the end have acknowledged -her and made her mine forever. The child too was a sweet creature, and -I have spent much time in searching for them, but still without success.</p> - -<p>‘It is, I fear, as sorrowful a tale as that which Uma no Kami has told -you. I, unfaithful, thought that I was not missed; and she, still -loved, was in no better case than <span class="pagenum"><i>{60}</i></span> one whose love is not returned. -I indeed am fast forgetting her; but she, it may be, cannot put me out -of her mind and I fear there may be nights when thoughts that she -would gladly banish burn fiercely in her breast; for now I fancy she -must be living a comfortless and unprotected life.’</p> - -<p>‘When all is said and done’ said Uma no Kami ‘my friend, though I pine -for her now that she is gone, was a sad plague to me while I had her, -and we must own that such a one will in the end be sure to make us -wish ourselves well rid of her. The zithern-player had much talent to -her credit, but was a great deal too light-headed. And your diffident -lady, Tō no Chūjō, seems to me to be a very suspicious case. The world -appears to be so constructed that we shall in the end be always at a -loss to make a reasoned choice; despite all our picking, sifting and -comparing we shall never succeed in finding this in all ways and to -all lengths adorable and impeccable female.’</p> - -<p>‘I can only suggest the Goddess Kichijō’<a id="FNanchor_II_10" href="#Footnote_II_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> said Tō no Chūjō ‘and I -fear that intimacy with so holy and majestic a being might prove to be -impracticable.’</p> - -<p>At this they all laughed and Tō no Chūjō continued: ‘But now it is -Shikibu’s turn and he is sure to give us something entertaining. Come -Shikibu, keep the ball rolling!’ ‘Nothing of interest ever happens to -humble folk like myself’ said Shikibu; but Tō no Chūjō scolded him for -keeping them waiting and after reflecting for a while which anecdote -would best suit the company, he began: ‘While I was still a student at -the University, I came across a woman who was truly a prodigy of -intelligence. One of Uma no Kami’s demands she certainly fulfilled, -for it was possible to discuss with her to advantage both public -matters and the proper handling of one’s private affairs. But not only -was her mind capable of grappling <span class="pagenum"><i>{61}</i></span> with any problems of this kind; -she was also so learned that ordinary scholars found themselves, to -their humiliation, quite unable to hold their own against her.</p> - -<p>‘I was taking lessons from her father, who was a Professor. I had -heard that he had several daughters, and some accidental circumstance -made it necessary for me to exchange a word or two with one of them -who turned out to be the learned prodigy of whom I have spoken. The -father, hearing that we had been seen together, came up to me with a -wine-cup in his hand and made an allusion to the poem of The Two -Wives.<a id="FNanchor_II_11" href="#Footnote_II_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> Unfortunately I did not feel the least inclination towards -the lady. However I was very civil to her; upon which she began to -take an affectionate interest in me and lost no opportunity of -displaying her talents by giving me the most elaborate advice how best -I might advance my position in the world. She sent me marvellous -letters written in a very far-fetched epistolary style and entirely in -Chinese characters; in return for which I felt bound to visit her, and -by making her my teacher I managed to learn how to write Chinese -poems. They were wretched, knock-kneed affairs, but I am still -grateful to her for it. She was not however at all the sort of woman -whom I should have cared to have as a wife, for though there may be -certain disadvantages in marrying a complete dolt, it is even worse to -marry a blue-stocking. Still less do princes like you and Genji -require so huge a stock of intellect and erudition for your support! -Let her but be one to whom the <i>karma</i> of our past lives draws us in -natural sympathy, what matter if now and again her ignorance -distresses us? Come to that, even men seem to me to get along very -well without much learning.’</p> - -<p>Here he stopped, but Genji and the rest, wishing to hear <span class="pagenum"><i>{62}</i></span> the end -of the story, cried out that for their part they found her a most -interesting woman. Shikibu protested that he did not wish to go on -with the story, but at last after much coaxing, pulling a comical wry -face he continued: ‘I had not seen her for a long time. When at last -some accident took me to the house, she did not receive me with her -usual informality but spoke to me from behind a tiresome screen. Ha, -Ha, thought I foolishly, she is sulking; now is the time to have a -scene and break with her. I might have known that she was not so -little of a philosopher as to sulk about trifles; she prided herself -on knowing the ways of the world and my inconstancy did not in the -least disturb her.</p> - -<p>‘She told me (speaking without the slightest tremor) that having had a -bad cold for some weeks she had taken a strong garlic-cordial, which -had made her breath smell rather unpleasant and that for this reason -she could not come very close to me. But if I had any matter of -special importance to discuss with her she was quite prepared to give -me her attention. All this she had expressed with solemn literary -perfection. I could think of no suitable reply, and with an “at your -service” I rose to go. Then, feeling that the interview had not been -quite a success, she added, raising her voice “Please come again when -my breath has lost its smell.” I could not pretend I had not heard. I -had however no intention of prolonging my visit, particularly as the -odour was now becoming definitely unpleasant, and looking cross I -recited the acrostic “On this night marked by the strange behaviour of -the spider, how foolish to bid me come back to-morrow”<a id="FNanchor_II_12" href="#Footnote_II_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> and calling -<span class="pagenum"><i>{63}</i></span> over my shoulder “There is no excuse for you”! I ran out of the -room. But she, following me “If night by night and every night we met, -in daytime too I should grow bold to meet you face to face.” Here in -the second sentence she had cleverly concealed the meaning “If I had -had any reason to expect you, I should not have eaten garlic.”’</p> - -<p>‘What a revolting story’ cried the young princes, and then, laughing, -‘He must have invented it.’ ‘Such a woman is quite incredible; it must -have been some sort of ogress. You have shocked us, Shikibu!’ and they -looked at him with disapproval. ‘You must try to tell us a better -story than that.’ ‘I do not see how any story could be better’ said -Shikibu, and left the room.</p> - -<p>‘There is a tendency among men as well as women’ said Uma no Kami ‘so -soon as they have acquired a little knowledge of some kind, to want to -display it to the best advantage. To have mastered all the -difficulties in the Three Histories and Five Classics is no road to -amiability. But even a woman cannot afford to lack all knowledge of -public and private affairs. Her best way will be without regular study -to pick up a little here and a little there, merely by keeping her -eyes and ears open. Then, if she has her wits at all about her, she -will soon find that she has amassed a surprising store of information. -Let her be content with this and not insist upon cramming her letters -with Chinese characters which do not at all accord with her feminine -style of composition, and will make the recipient exclaim in despair -“If only she could contrive to be a little less mannish!” And many of -these characters, to which she intended the colloquial pronunciation -to be given, are certain to be read as Chinese, and this will give the -whole composition an even more pedantic sound than it deserves. Even -among our ladies of rank and fashion there are many of this sort, and -there are others who, wishing to master <span class="pagenum"><i>{64}</i></span> the art of verse-making, -in the end allow it to master them, and, slaves to poetry, cannot -resist the temptation, however urgent the business they are about or -however inappropriate the time, to make use of some happy allusion -which has occurred to them, but must needs fly to their desks and work -it up into a poem. On festival days such a woman is very troublesome. -For example on the morning of the Iris Festival, when everyone is busy -making ready to go to the temple, she will worry them by stringing -together all the old tags about the “matchless root”<a id="FNanchor_II_13" href="#Footnote_II_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> or on the 9th -day of the 9th month, when everyone is busy thinking out some -difficult Chinese poem to fit the rhymes which have been prescribed, -she begins making metaphors about the “dew on the chrysanthemums,” -thus diverting our attention from the far more important business -which is in hand. At another time we might have found these -compositions quite delightful; but by thrusting them upon our notice -at inconvenient moments, when we cannot give them proper attention, -she makes them seem worse than they really are. For in all matters we -shall best commend ourselves if we study men’s faces to read in them -the “Why so?” or the “As you will” and do not, regardless of times and -circumstances, demand an interest and sympathy that they have not -leisure to give.</p> - -<p>‘Sometimes indeed a woman should even pretend to know less than she -knows, or say only a part of what she would like to say....’</p> - -<p>All this while Genji, though he had sometimes joined in the -conversation, had in his heart of hearts been thinking of one person -only, and the more he thought the less could he find a single trace of -those shortcomings and excesses which, so his friends had declared, -were common to all <span class="pagenum"><i>{65}</i></span> women. ‘There is no one like her’ he thought, -and his heart was very full. The conversation indeed had not brought -them to a definite conclusion, but it had led to many curious -anecdotes and reflections. So they passed the night, and at last, for -a wonder, the weather had improved. After this long residence at the -Palace Genji knew he would be expected at the Great Hall and set out -at once. There was in Princess Aoi’s air and dress a dignified -precision which had something in it even of stiffness; and in the very -act of reflecting that she, above all women, was the type of that -single-hearted and devoted wife whom (as his friends had said last -night) no sensible man would lightly offend, he found himself -oppressed by the very perfection of her beauty, which seemed only to -make all intimacy with her the more impossible.</p> - -<p>He turned to Lady Chūnagon, to Nakatsukasa and other attendants of the -common sort who were standing near and began to jest with them. The -day was now very hot, but they thought that flushed cheeks became -Prince Genji very well. Aoi’s father came, and standing behind the -curtain, began to converse very amiably. Genji, who considered the -weather too hot for visits, frowned, at which the ladies-in-waiting -tittered. Genji, making furious signs at them to be quiet, flung -himself on to a divan. In fact, he behaved far from well.</p> - -<p>It was now growing dark. Someone said that the position of the Earth -Star<a id="FNanchor_II_14" href="#Footnote_II_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> would make it unlucky for the Prince to go back to the Palace -that night; and another: ‘You are right. It is now set dead against -him.’ ‘But my own palace is in the same direction!’ cried Genji. ‘How -vexing! where then shall I go?’ and promptly fell asleep. The -ladies-in-waiting however, agreed that it was a very serious matter -and began discussing what could be done. ‘There <span class="pagenum"><i>{66}</i></span> is Ki no Kami’s -house’ said one. This Ki no Kami was one of Genji’s gentlemen in -waiting. ‘It is in the Middle River’ she went on; ‘and delightfully -cool and shady, for they have lately dammed the river and made it flow -right through the garden.’ ‘That sounds very pleasant’ said Genji, -waking up, ‘besides they are the sort of people who would not mind -one’s driving right in at the front gate, if one had a mind to.’<a id="FNanchor_II_15" href="#Footnote_II_15" class="fnanchor">15</a></p> - -<p>He had many friends whose houses lay out of the unlucky direction. But -he feared that if he went to one of them, Aoi would think that, after -absenting himself so long, he was now merely using the Earth Star as -an excuse for returning to more congenial company. He therefore -broached the matter to Ki no Kami, who accepted the proposal, but -stepping aside whispered to his companions that his father Iyo no -Kami, who was absent on service, had asked him to look after his young -wife.<a id="FNanchor_II_16" href="#Footnote_II_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> ‘I am afraid we have not sufficient room in the house to -entertain him as I could wish.’ Genji overhearing this, strove to -reassure him, saying ‘It will be a pleasure to me to be near the lady. -A visit is much more agreeable when there is a hostess to welcome us. -Find me some corner behind her partition...!’ ‘Even then, I fear you -may not find ...’ but breaking off Ki no Kami sent a runner to his -house, with orders to make ready an apartment for the Prince. Treating -a visit to so humble a house as a matter of no importance, he started -at once, without even informing the Minister, and taking with him only -a few trusted body-servants. Ki no Kami protested against the -precipitation, but in vain.</p> - -<p>The servants dusted and aired the eastern side-chamber of the Central -Hall and here made temporary quarters for <span class="pagenum"><i>{67}</i></span> the Prince. They were at -pains to improve the view from his windows, for example by altering -the course of certain rivulets. They set up a rustic wattled hedge and -filled the borders with the choicest plants. The low humming of -insects floated on the cool breeze; numberless fireflies wove -inextricable mazes in the air. The whole party settled down near where -the moat flowed under the covered bridge and began to drink wine.</p> - -<p>Ki no Kami went off in a great bustle, saying that he must find them -something to eat. Genji, quietly surveying the scene, decided this was -one of those middle-class families which in last night’s conversation -had been so highly commended. He remembered that he had heard the lady -who was staying in the house well spoken of and was curious to see -her. He listened and thought that there seemed to be people in the -western wing. There was a soft rustling of skirts, and from time to -time the sound of young and by no means disagreeable voices. They did -not seem to be much in earnest in their efforts to make their -whispering and laughter unheard, for soon one of them opened the -sliding window. But Ki no Kami crying ‘What are you thinking of?’ -crossly closed it again. The light of a candle in the room filtered -through a crack in the paper-window. Genji edged slightly closer to -the window in the hope of being able to see through the crack, but -found that he could see nothing. He listened for a while, and came to -the conclusion that they were sitting in the main women’s apartments, -out of which the little front room opened. They were speaking very -low, but he could catch enough of it to make out that they were -talking about him.</p> - -<p>‘What a shame that a fine young Prince should be taken so young and -settled down for ever with a lady that was none of his choosing!’</p> - -<p>‘I understand that marriage does not weigh very heavily <span id ="Page_68" class="pagenum"><i>{68}</i></span> upon him’ -said another. This probably meant nothing in particular, but Genji, -who imagined they were talking about what was uppermost in his own -mind, was appalled at the idea that his relations with Lady Fujitsubo -were about to be discussed. How could they have found out? But the -subsequent conversation of the ladies soon showed that they knew -nothing of the matter at all, and Genji stopped listening. Presently -he heard them trying to repeat the poem which he had sent with a -nose-gay of morning-glory to Princess Asagao, daughter of Prince -Momozono.<a id="FNanchor_II_17" href="#Footnote_II_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> But they got the lines rather mixed up, and Genji began -to wonder whether the lady’s appearance would turn out to be on a -level with her knowledge of prosody.</p> - -<p>At this moment Ki no Kami came in with a lamp which he hung on the -wall. Having carefully trimmed it, he offered Genji a tray of fruit. -This was all rather dull and Genji by a quotation from an old -folk-song hinted that he would like to meet Ki no Kami’s other guests. -The hint was not taken. Genji began to doze, and his attendants sat -silent and motionless.</p> - -<p>There were in the room several charming boys, sons of Ki no Kami, some -of whom Genji already knew as pages at the Palace. There were also -numerous sons of Iyo no Kami; with them was a boy of twelve or -thirteen who particularly caught Genji’s fancy. He began asking whose -sons the boys were, and when he came to this one Ki no Kami replied -‘he is the youngest son of the late Chūnagon, who loved him dearly, -but died while this boy was still a child. His sister married my -father and that is why he is living here. He is quick at his books, -and we hope <span class="pagenum"><i>{69}</i></span> one day to send him to Court, but I fear that his lack -of influence...<a id="Close_Quote2"></a><ins title="Original has no period or closing quote">.’</ins></p> - -<p>‘Poor child!’ said Genji. ‘His sister, then, is your step-mother, is -that not so? How strange that you should stand in this relationship -with so young a girl! And now I come to think of it there was some -talk once of her being presented at Court, and I once heard the -Emperor asking what had become of her. How changeable are the fortunes -of the world.’ He was trying to talk in a very grown-up way.</p> - -<p>‘Indeed, Sir’ answered Ki no Kami, ‘her subsequent state was humbler -than she had reason to expect. But such is our mortal life. Yes, yes, -and such has it always been. We have our ups and downs—and the women -even more than the men.’</p> - -<p><i>Genji:</i> ‘But your father no doubt makes much of her?’</p> - -<p><i>Ki no Kami:</i> ‘Makes much of her indeed! You may well say so. She -rules his house, and he dotes on her in so wholesale and extravagant a -fashion that all of us (and I among the foremost) have had occasion -before now to call him to order, but he does not listen.’</p> - -<p><i>Genji:</i> ‘How comes it then that he has left her behind in the house -of a fashionable young Courtier? For he looks like a man of prudence -and good sense. But pray, where is she now?’</p> - -<p><i>Ki no Kami:</i> ‘The ladies have been ordered to retire to the common -room, but they have not yet finished all their preparations.’</p> - -<p>Genji’s followers, who had drunk heavily, were now all lying fast -asleep on the verandah. He was alone in his room, but could not get to -sleep. Having at last dozed for a moment, he woke suddenly and noticed -that someone was moving behind the paper-window of the back wall. -This, he thought, must be where she is hiding, and faintly <span class="pagenum"><i>{70}</i></span> curious -he sauntered in that direction and stood listening. ‘Where are you?’ I -say ‘Where are you?’ whispered someone in a quaint, hoarse voice, -which seemed to be that of the boy whom Genji had noticed earlier in -the evening. ‘I am lying over here’ another voice answered. ‘Has the -stranger gone to sleep yet? His room must be quite close to this; but -all the same how far off he seems!’ Her sleepy voice was so like the -boy’s, that Genji concluded this must be his sister.</p> - -<p>‘He is sleeping in the wing, I saw him to-night. All that we have -heard of him is true enough. He is as handsome as can be’ whispered -the boy. ‘I wish it were to-morrow; I want to see him properly’ she -answered drowsily, her voice seeming to come from under the bed -clothes. Genji was rather disappointed that she did not ask more -questions about him. Presently he heard the boy saying ‘I am going to -sleep over in the corner-room. How bad the light is’ and he seemed to -be trimming the lamp. His sister’s bed appeared to be in the corner -opposite the paper-window. ‘Where is Chūjō?’ she called. ‘I am -frightened, I like to have someone close to me.’ ‘Madam’ answered -several voices from the servants’ room, ‘she is taking her bath in the -lower house. She will be back presently.’ When all was quiet again, -Genji slipped back the bolt and tried the door. It was not fastened on -the other side. He found himself in an ante-room with a screen at the -end, beyond which a light glimmered. In the half-darkness he could see -clothes boxes and trunks strewn about in great disorder. Quietly -threading his way among them, he entered the inner room from which the -voices had proceeded. One very minute figure was couched there who, to -Genji’s slight embarrassment, on hearing his approach pushed aside the -cloak which covered her, thinking that he was the maid for whom she -had sent. ‘Madam, <span id="Page_71" class="pagenum"><i>{71}</i></span> hearing you call for Chūjō<a id="FNanchor_II_18" href="#Footnote_II_18" class="fnanchor">18</a> I thought that I -might now put at your service the esteem in which I have long secretly -held you.’ The lady could make nothing of all this, and terrified out -of her wits tried hard to scream. But no sound came, for she had -buried her face in the bed clothes.</p> - -<p>‘Please listen’ said Genji. ‘This sudden intrusion must of course seem -to you very impertinent. You do not know that for years I have waited -for an occasion to tell you how much I like and admire you, and if -to-night I could not resist the temptation of paying this secret -visit, pray take the strangeness of my behaviour as proof of my -impatience to pay a homage that has long been due.’ He spoke so -courteously and gently and looked so kind that not the devil himself -would have taken umbrage at his presence. But feeling that the -situation was not at all a proper one for a married lady she said -(without much conviction) ‘I think you have made a mistake.’ She spoke -very low. Her bewildered air made her all the more attractive, and -Genji, enchanted by her appearance, hastened to answer: ‘Indeed I have -made no mistake; rather, with no guide but a long-felt deference and -esteem, I have found my way unerringly to your side. But I see that -the suddenness of my visit has made you distrust my purpose. Let me -tell you then that I have no evil intentions and seek only for someone -to talk with me for a while about a matter which perplexes me.’ So -saying he took her up in his arms (for she was very small) and was -carrying her through the ante-room when suddenly Chūjō, the servant -for whom she had sent before, entered the bedroom. Genji gave an -astonished cry and the maid, wondering who could have entered the -ante-room, began groping her way towards them. But coming closer she -recognized by the rich perfume of his dress that this could be none -other <span class="pagenum"><i>{72}</i></span> than the Prince. And though she was sorely puzzled to know -what was afoot, she dared not say a word. Had he been an ordinary -person, she would soon have had him by the ears. ‘Nay’ she thought -‘even if he were not a Prince I should do best to keep my hands off -him; for the more stir one makes, the more tongues wag. But if I -should touch this fine gentleman ...,’ and all in a flutter she found -herself obediently following Genji to his room. Here he calmly closed -the door upon her, saying as he did so ‘You will come back to fetch -your mistress in the morning.’ Utsusemi herself was vexed beyond -measure at being thus disposed of in the presence of her own -waiting-maid, who could indeed draw but one conclusion from what she -had seen. But to all her misgivings and anxieties Genji, who had the -art of improvising a convincing reply to almost any question, answered -with such a wealth of ingenuity and tender concern, that for awhile -she was content. But soon becoming again uneasy, ‘This must all be a -dream—that you, so great a Prince, should stoop to consider so humble -a creature as I, and I am overwhelmed by so much kindness. But I think -you have forgotten what I am. A Zuryō’s wife! there is no altering -that, and you...!’ Genji now began to realize how deeply he had -distressed and disquieted her by his wild behaviour, and feeling -thoroughly ashamed of himself he answered: ‘I am afraid I know very -little about these questions of rank and precedence. Such things are -too confusing to carry in one’s head. And whatever you may have heard -of me I want to tell you for some reason or other I have till this day -cared nothing for gallantry nor ever practised it, and that even you -cannot be more astonished at what I have done to-night than I myself -am.’ With this and a score of other speeches he sought to win her -confidence. But she, knowing that if once their talk became a jot less -<span class="pagenum"><i>{73}</i></span> formal, she would be hard put to it to withstand his singular -charm, was determined, even at the risk of seeming stiff and awkward, -to show him that in trying so hard to put her at her ease he was only -wasting his time, with the result that she behaved very boorishly -indeed. She was by nature singularly gentle and yielding, so that the -effort of steeling her heart and despite her feelings, playing all the -while the part of the young bamboo-shoot which though so green and -tender cannot be broken, was very painful to her; and finding that she -could not longer think of arguments with which to withstand his -importunity, she burst into tears; and though he was very sorry for -her, it occurred to him that he would not gladly have missed that -sight. He longed however to console her, but could not think of a way -to do so, and said at last, ‘Why do you treat me so unkindly? It is -true that the manner of our meeting was strange, yet I think that Fate -meant us to meet. It is harsh that you should shrink from me as though -the World and you had never met.’ So he chided her, and she: ‘If this -had happened long ago before my troubles, before my lot was cast, -perhaps I should have been glad to take your kindness while it -lasted, knowing that you would soon think better of your strange -condescension. But now that my course is fixed, what can such meetings -bring me save misery and regret? <i>Tell none that you have seen my -home</i>’ she ended, quoting the old song.<a id="FNanchor_II_19" href="#Footnote_II_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> ‘Small wonder that she is -sad’ thought Genji, and he found many a tender way to comfort her. And -now the cock began to crow. Out in the courtyard Genji’s men were -staggering to their feet, one crying drowsily ‘How I should like to go -to sleep again,’ and another ‘Make haste there, bring out his Honour’s -coach.’ Ki no Kami came out into the yard, ‘What’s all this hurry? It -is only when there are women <span class="pagenum"><i>{74}</i></span> in his party that a man need hasten -from a refuge to which the Earth star has sent him. Why is his -Highness setting off in the middle of the night?’</p> - -<p>Genji was wondering whether such an opportunity would ever occur -again. How would he be able even to send her letters? And thinking of -all the difficulties that awaited him, he became very despondent. -Chūjō arrived to fetch her mistress. For a long while he would not let -her go, and when at last he handed her over, he drew her back to him -saying ‘How can I send news to you? For, Madam,’ he said raising his -voice that the maid Chūjō might hear ‘such love as mine, and such -pitiless cruelty as yours have never been seen in the world before.’ -Already the birds were singing in good earnest. She could not forget -that she was no one and he a Prince. And even now, while he was -tenderly entreating her, there came unbidden to her mind the image of -her husband Iyo no Suke, about whom she generally thought either not -at all or with disdain. To think that even in a dream he might see her -now, filled her with shame and terror.</p> - -<p>It was daylight. Genji went with her to the partition door. Indoors -and out there was a bustle of feet. As he closed the door upon her, it -seemed to him a barrier that shut him out from all happiness. He -dressed, and went out on to the balcony. A blind in the western wing -was hastily raised. There seemed to be people behind who were looking -at him. They could only see him indistinctly across the top of a -partition in the verandah. Among them was one, perhaps, whose heart -beat wildly as she looked...?</p> - -<p>The moon had not set, and though with dwindled light still shone crisp -and clear in the dawn. It was a daybreak of marvellous beauty. But in -the passionless visage of the sky men read only their own comfort or -despair; and <span class="pagenum"><i>{75}</i></span> Genji, as with many backward glances he went upon his -way, paid little heed to the beauty of the dawn. He would send her a -message? No, even that was utterly impossible. And so, in great -unhappiness he returned to his wife’s house.</p> - -<p>He would gladly have slept a little, but could not stop trying to -invent some way of seeing her again; or when that seemed hopeless, -imagining to himself all that must now be going on in her mind. She -was no great beauty, Genji reflected, and yet one could not say that -she was ugly. Yes, she was in every sense a member of that Middle -Class upon which Uma no Kami had given them so complete a dissertation.</p> - -<p>He stayed for some while at the Great Hall, and finding that, try as -he might, he could not stop thinking about her and longing for her, at -last in despair he sent for Ki no Kami and said to him ‘Why do you not -let me have that boy in my service,—the Chūnagon’s son, whom I saw at -your house? He is a likely looking boy, and I might make him my -body-servant, or even recommend him to the Emperor.’ ‘I am sensible of -your kindness’ said Ki no Kami, ‘I will mention what you have said to -the boy’s sister.’ This answer irritated Genji, but he continued: ‘And -has this lady given you step-brothers my lord?’ ‘Sir, she has been -married these two years, but has had no child. It seems that in making -this marriage she disobeyed her father’s last injunctions, and this -has set her against her husband.’</p> - -<p><i>Genji:</i> ‘That is sad indeed. I am told that she is not ill-looking. -Is that so?’</p> - -<p><i>Ki no Kami:</i> ‘I believe she is considered quite passable. But I have -had very little to do with her. Intimacy between step-children and -step-parents is indeed proverbially difficult.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{76}</i></span></p> - -<p>Five or six days afterwards Ki no Kami brought the boy. He was not -exactly handsome, but he had great charm and (thought Genji) an air of -distinction. The Prince spoke very kindly to him and soon completely -won his heart. To Genji’s many questions about his sister he made such -answers as he could, and when he seemed embarrassed or tongue-tied -Genji found some less direct way of finding out what he wanted to -know, and soon put the boy at his ease. For though he vaguely realized -what was going on and thought it rather odd, he was so young that he -made no effort to understand it, and without further question carried -back a letter from Genji to his sister.</p> - -<p>She was so much agitated by the sight of it that she burst into tears -and, lest her brother should perceive them, held the letter in front -of her face while she read it. It was very long. Among much else it -contained the verse ‘Would that I might dream that dream again! Alas, -since first this wish was mine, not once have my eye-lids closed in -sleep.’</p> - -<p>She had never seen such beautiful writing, and as she read, a haze -clouded her eyes. What incomprehensible fate had first dragged her -down to be the wife of a Zuryō, and then for a moment raised her so -high? Still pondering, she went to her room.</p> - -<p>Next day, Genji again sent for the boy, who went to his sister saying -‘I am going to Prince Genji. Where is your answer to his letter?’ -‘Tell him’ she answered ‘that there is no one here who reads such -letters.’ The boy burst out laughing. ‘Why, you silly, how could I say -such a thing to him. He told me himself to be sure to bring an -answer.’ It infuriated her to think that Genji should have thus taken -the boy into his confidence and she answered angrily, ‘He has no -business to talk to you <span class="pagenum"><i>{77}</i></span> about such things at your age. If that is -what you talk about you had better not go to him any more.’ ‘But he -sent for me’ said the boy, and started off.</p> - -<p>‘I was waiting for you all yesterday’ said Genji when the boy -returned. ‘Did you forget to bring the answer? Did you forget to -come?’ The child blushed and made no reply. ‘And now?’ ‘She said -there is no one at home who reads such letters.’ ‘How silly, what can -be the use of saying such things?’, and he wrote another letter and -gave it to the boy, saying: ‘I expect you do not know that I used to -meet your sister before her marriage. She treats me in this scornful -fashion because she looks upon me as a poor-spirited, defenceless -creature. Whereas she has now a mighty Deputy Governor to look after -her. But I hope that you will promise to be my child not his. For he -is very old, and will not be able to take care of you for long.’</p> - -<p>The boy was quite content with this explanation, and admired Genji -more than ever. The prince kept him always at his side, even taking -him to the Palace. And he ordered his Chamberlain to see to it that he -was provided with a little Court suit. Indeed he treated him just as -though he were his own child.</p> - -<p>Genji continued to send letters; but she, thinking that the boy, young -as he was, might easily allow a message to fall into the wrong hands -and that then she would lose her fair name to no purpose, feeling too -(that however much he desired it) between persons so far removed in -rank there could be no lasting union, she answered his letters only in -the most formal terms.</p> - -<p>Dark though it had been during most of the time they were together, -she yet had a clear recollection of his appearance, and could not deny -to herself that she thought him uncommonly handsome. But she very much -doubted <span class="pagenum"><i>{78}</i></span> if he on his side really knew what she was like; indeed -she felt sure that the next time they met he would think her very -plain and all would be over.</p> - -<p>Genji meanwhile thought about her continually. He was for ever calling -back to memory each incident of that one meeting, and every -recollection filled him with longing and despair. He remembered how -sad she had looked when she spoke to him of herself, and he longed to -make her happier. He thought of visiting her in secret. But the risk -of discovery was too great, and the consequences likely to be more -fatal to her even than to himself.</p> - -<p>He had been many days at the Palace, when at last the Earth Star again -barred the road to his home. He set out at once, but on the way -pretended that he had just remembered the unfavourable posture of the -stars. There was nothing to do but seek shelter again in the house on -the Middle River. Ki no Kami was surprised but by no means -ill-pleased, for he attributed Genji’s visit to the amenity of the -little pools and fountains which he had constructed in his garden.</p> - -<p>Genji had told the boy in the morning that he intended to visit the -Middle River, and since he had now become the Prince’s constant -companion, he was sent for at once to wait upon him in his room. He -had already given a message to his sister, in which Genji told her of -his plan. She could not but feel flattered at the knowledge that it -was on her account he had contrived this ingenious excuse for coming -to the house. Yet she had, as we have seen, for some reason got it -into her head that at a leisurely meeting she would not please him as -she had done at that first fleeting and dreamlike encounter, and she -dreaded adding a new sorrow to the burden of her thwarted and unhappy -existence. Too proud to let him think that she had posted herself in -waiting for him, she said to her <span class="pagenum"><i>{79}</i></span> servants (while the boy was busy -in Genji’s room) ‘I do not care to be at such close quarters with our -guest, besides I am stiff, and would like to be massaged; I must go -where there is more room,’ and so saying she made them carry her -things to the maid Chūjō’s bedroom in the cross-wing.</p> - -<p>Genji had purposely sent his attendants early to bed, and now that all -was quiet, he hastened to send her a message. But the boy could not -find her. At last when he had looked in every corner of the house, he -tried the cross-wing, and succeeded in tracking her down to Chūjō’s -room. It was too bad of her to hide like this, and half in tears he -gasped out ‘Oh how can you be so horrid? What will he think of you?’ -‘You have no business to run after me like this’ she answered angrily, -‘It is very wicked for children to carry such messages. But’ she -added, ‘you may tell him I am not well, that my ladies are with me, -and I am going to be massaged....’ So she dismissed him; but in her -heart of hearts she was thinking that if such an adventure had -happened to her while she was still a person of consequence, before -her father died and left her to shift for herself in the world, she -would have known how to enjoy it. But now she must force herself to -look askance at all his kindness. How tiresome he must think her! And -she fretted so much at not being free to fall in love with him, that -in the end she was more in love than ever. But then she remembered -suddenly that her lot had long ago been cast. She was a wife. There -was no sense in thinking of such things, and she made up her mind once -and for all never again to let foolish ideas enter her head.</p> - -<p>Genji lay on his bed, anxiously waiting to see with what success so -young a messenger would execute his delicate mission. When at last the -answer came, astonished at <span class="pagenum"><i>{80}</i></span> this sudden exhibition of coldness, he -exclaimed in deep mortification ‘This is a disgrace, a hideous -disgrace,’ and he looked very rueful indeed. For a while he said no -more, but lay sighing deeply, in great distress. At last he recited -the poem ‘I knew not the nature of the strange tree<a id="FNanchor_II_20" href="#Footnote_II_20" class="fnanchor">20</a> that stands on -Sono plain, and when I sought the comfort of its shade, I did but lose -my road,’ and sent it to her. She was still awake, and answered with -the poem ‘Too like am I in these my outcast years to the dim tree that -dwindles from the traveller’s approaching gaze.’ The boy was terribly -sorry for Genji and did not feel sleepy at all, but he was afraid -people would think his continual excursions very strange. By this -time, however, everyone else in the house was sound asleep. Genji -alone lay plunged in the blackest melancholy. But even while -he was raging at the inhuman stubbornness of her new-found and -incomprehensible resolve, he found that he could not but admire her -the more for this invincible tenacity. At last he grew tired of lying -awake; there was no more to be done. A moment later he had changed his -mind again, and suddenly whispered to the boy ‘Take me to where she is -hiding!’ ‘It is too difficult’ he said, ‘she is locked in and there -are so many people there. I am afraid to go with you.’ ‘So be it’ said -Genji, ‘but you at least must not abandon me’ and he laid the boy -beside him on his bed. He was well content to find himself lying by -this handsome young Prince’s side, and Genji, we must record, found -the boy no bad substitute for his ungracious sister.</p> - - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_1" href="#FNanchor_II_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> The hero of a lost popular romance. It is also referred to by -Murasaki’s contemporary Sei Shōnagon in Chapter 145 of her <cite>Makura no -Sōshi</cite>. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_2" href="#FNanchor_II_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> His father-in-law’s house, where his wife Princess Aoi still -continued to live. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_3" href="#FNanchor_II_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> Japanese houses were arranged somewhat differently from ours and -for many of the terms which constantly recur in this book (<i>kichō</i>, -<i>sudare</i>, <i>sunoko</i>, etc.) no exact English equivalents can be found. -In such cases I have tried to use expressions which without being too -awkward or unfamiliar will give an adequate general idea of what is -meant. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_4" href="#FNanchor_II_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> Provincial officials. Murasaki herself came of this class. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_5" href="#FNanchor_II_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> The tenth month. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_6" href="#FNanchor_II_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> From the <i>saibara</i> ballad, <cite>The Well of Asuka</cite>: ‘Sweet is the -shade, the lapping waters cool, and good the pasture for our weary -steeds. By the Well of Asuka, here let us stay.’ -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_7" href="#FNanchor_II_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> The ‘Japanese zithern’; also called <i>wagon</i>. A species of <i>koto</i>. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_8" href="#FNanchor_II_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> As opposed to the formal and traditional music imported from -China. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_9" href="#FNanchor_II_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> See <cite>Encyclopédia de la Musique</cite>, p. 247. Under the name Nan-lü -this mode was frequently used in the Chinese love-dramas of the -fourteenth century. It was considered very wild and moving. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_10" href="#FNanchor_II_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> Goddess of Beauty. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_11" href="#FNanchor_II_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> A poem by Po Chü-i pointing out the advantages of marrying a -poor wife. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_12" href="#FNanchor_II_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> There is a reference to an old poem which says: ‘I know that -to-night my lover will come to me. The spider’s antics prove it -clearly’ Omens were drawn from the behaviour of spiders. There is also -a pun on <i>hiru</i> ‘day’ and <i>hiru</i> ‘garlic,’ so that an ordinary person -would require a few moments’ reflection before understanding the poem. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_13" href="#FNanchor_II_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> The irises used for the Tango festival (5th day of 5th month) had -to have nine flowers growing on a root. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_14" href="#FNanchor_II_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> The ‘Lord of the Centre,’ i.e. the planet Saturn. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_15" href="#FNanchor_II_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> I.e. people with whom one can be quite at ease. It was usual to -unharness one’s bulls at the gate. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_16" href="#FNanchor_II_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> Ki no Kami’s step-mother. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_17" href="#FNanchor_II_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> We learn later that Genji courted this lady in vain from his -seventeenth year onward. Though she has never been mentioned before, -Murasaki speaks of her as though the reader already knew all about -her. This device is also employed by Marcel Proust. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_18" href="#FNanchor_II_18" class="fnanchor">18</a> Chūjō means ‘Captain,’ which was Genji’s rank at the time. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_19" href="#FNanchor_II_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> <cite>Kokinshū</cite> 811, an anonymous love-poem. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_II_20" href="#FNanchor_II_20" class="fnanchor">20</a> The <i>hahakigi</i> or ‘broom-tree’ when seen in the distance appears -to offer ample shade; but when approached turns out to be a skimpy bush. -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_81"><i>{81}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br /> -<span class="larger">UTSUSEMI</span></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap">GENJI was still sleepless. ‘No one has ever disliked me before’ he -whispered to the boy. ‘It is more than I can bear. I am sick of myself -and of the world, and do not want to go on living any more.’ This -sounded so tragic that the boy began to weep. The smallness and -delicacy of his build, even the way in which his hair was cropped, -gave him an astonishing resemblance to his sister, thought Genji, who -found his sympathy very endearing. At times he had half thought of -creeping away from the boy’s side and searching on his own account for -the lady’s hiding-place; but soon abandoned a project which would only -have involved him in the most appalling scandal. So he lay, waiting -for the dawn. At last, while it was still dark, so full of his own -thoughts that he quite forgot to make his usual parting speech to his -young page, he left the house. The boy’s feelings were very much hurt, -and all that day he felt lonely and injured. The lady, when no answer -came from Genji, thought that he had changed his mind, and though she -would have been very angry if he had persisted in his suit, she was -not quite prepared to lose him with so little ado.</p> - -<p>But this was a good opportunity once and for all to lock up her heart -against him. She thought that she had done so successfully, but found -to her surprise that he still occupied an uncommonly large share of -her thoughts. <span class="pagenum"><i>{82}</i></span> Genji, though he felt it would have been much better -to put the whole business out of his head, knew that he had not the -strength of mind to do so and at last, unable to bear his wretchedness -any longer he said to the boy ‘I am feeling very unhappy. I keep on -trying to think of other things, but my thoughts will not obey me. I -can struggle no longer. You must watch for a suitable occasion, and -then contrive some way of bringing me into the presence of your -sister.’ This worried the boy, but he was inwardly flattered at the -confidence which Genji placed in him. And an opportunity soon -presented itself.</p> - -<p>Ki no Kami had been called away to the provinces, and there were only -women in the house. One evening when dusk had settled upon the quiet -streets the boy brought a carriage to fetch him. He knew that the lad -would do his best, but not feeling quite safe in the hands of so young -an accomplice, he put on a disguise, and then in his impatience, not -waiting even to see the gates closed behind him, he drove off at top -speed. They entered unobserved at a side-gate, and here he bade Genji -descend. The brother knew that as he was only a boy, the watchman and -gardeners would not pay any particular attention to his movements, and -so he was not at all uneasy. Hiding Genji in the porch of the -double-door of the eastern wing, he purposely banged against the -sliding partition which separated this wing from the main part of the -house, and that the maids might have the impression he did not mind -who heard him enter he called out crossly ‘Why is the door shut on a -hot night like this?’ ‘“My lady of the West”<a id="FNanchor_III_1" href="#Footnote_III_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> has been here since -this morning, and she is playing <i>go</i> with my other lady.’ Longing to -catch sight of her, even though she were with a companion, Genji stole -from his hiding-place, and crept through a gap in the curtains. The -partition door through <span class="pagenum"><i>{83}</i></span> which the boy had passed was still open, -and he could see through it, right along the corridor into the room on -the other side. The screen which protected the entrance of this room -was partly folded, and the curtains which usually concealed the divan -had, owing to the great heat, been hooked up out of the way, so that -he had an excellent view.</p> - -<p>The lady sitting near the lamp, half-leaning against the middle pillar -must, he supposed, be his beloved. He looked closely at her. She -seemed to be wearing an unlined, dark purple dress, with some kind of -scarf thrown over her shoulders. The poise of her head was graceful, -but her extreme smallness had the effect of making her seem somewhat -insignificant. She seemed to be trying all the while to hide her face -from her companion, and there was something furtive about the -movements of her slender hands, which she seemed never to show for -more than a moment.</p> - -<p>Her companion was sitting right opposite him, and he could see her -perfectly. She wore an underdress of thin white stuff, and thrown -carelessly over it a cloak embroidered with red and blue flowers. The -dress was not fastened in front, showing a bare neck and breast, -showing even the little red sash which held up her drawers. She had -indeed an engagingly free and easy air. Her skin was very white and -delicate, she was rather plump, but tall and well built. The poise of -her head and angle of her brow were faultless, the expression of her -mouth and eyes was very pleasing and her appearance altogether most -delightful. Her hair grew very thick, but was cut short so as to hang -on a level with her shoulders. It was very fine and smooth. How -exciting it must be to have such a girl for one’s daughter! Small -wonder if Iyo no Kami was proud of her. If she was a little less -restless, he thought, she would be quite perfect.</p> - -<p>The game was nearly over, she was clearing away the unwanted pieces. -She seemed to be very excitable and <span class="pagenum"><i>{84}</i></span> was making a quite unnecessary -commotion about the business. ‘Wait a little’ said her companion very -quietly, ‘here there is a stalemate. My only move is to counter-attack -over there....’ ‘It is all over’ said the other impatiently ‘I am -beaten, let us count the score;’ and she began counting, ‘ten, twenty, -thirty, forty’ on her fingers. Genji could not help remembering the -old song about the wash-house at Iyo (‘eight tubs to the left, nine -tubs to the right’) and as this lady of Iyo, determined that nothing -should be left unsettled, went on stolidly counting her losses and -gains, he thought her for the moment slightly common. It was strange -to contrast her with Utsusemi,<a id="FNanchor_III_2" href="#Footnote_III_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> who sat silent, her face -half-covered, so that he could scarcely discern her features. But when -he looked at her fixedly, she, as though uneasy under this gaze of -which she was not actually aware, shifted in her seat, and showed him -her full profile. Her eyelids gave the impression of being a little -swollen, and there was at places a certain lack of delicacy in the -lines of her features, while her good points were not visible. But -when she began to speak, it was as though she were determined to make -amends for the deficiencies of her appearance and show that she had, -if not so much beauty, at any rate more sense than her companion.</p> - -<p>The latter was now flaunting her charms with more and more careless -abandonment. Her continual laughter and high spirits were certainly -rather engaging, and she seemed in her way to be a most entertaining -person. He did not imagine that she was very virtuous, but that was -far from being altogether a disadvantage.</p> - -<p>It amused him very much to see people behaving quite naturally -together. He had lived in an atmosphere of <span class="pagenum"><i>{85}</i></span> ceremony and reserve. -This peep at everyday life was a most exciting novelty, and though he -felt slightly uneasy at spying in this deliberate way upon two persons -who had no notion that they were observed, he would gladly have gone -on looking, when suddenly the boy, who had been sitting by his -sister’s side, got up, and Genji slipped back again into his proper -hiding-place. The boy was full of apologies at having left him waiting -for so long: ‘But I am afraid nothing can be done to-day; there is -still a visitor in her room.’ ‘And am I now to go home again? ‘said -Genji; ‘that is really too much to ask.’ ‘No, no, stay here, I will -try what can be done, when the visitor has gone.’ Genji felt quite -sure that the boy would manage to find some way of cajoling his -sister, for he had noticed that though a mere child, he had a way of -quietly observing situations and characters, and making use of his -knowledge.</p> - -<p>The game of <i>go</i> must now be over. A rustling of skirts and pattering -of feet showed that the household was not retiring to rest. ‘Where is -the young master?’ Genji heard a servant saying, ‘I am going to fasten -this partition door,’ and there was the sound of bolts being slipped. -‘They have all gone to bed’ said Genji, ‘now is the time to think of a -plan.’ The boy knew that it would be no use arguing with his sister or -trying beforehand in any way to bend her obstinate resolution. The -best thing to be done under the circumstances was to wait till no one -was about, and then lead Genji straight to her. ‘Is Ki no Kami’s -sister still here?’ asked Genji, ‘I should like just to catch a -glimpse of her.’ ‘But that is impossible’ said the boy ‘She is in my -sister’s room.’ ‘Indeed’ said Genji, affecting surprise. For though he -knew very well where she was he did not wish to show that he had -already seen her. Becoming very impatient of all these delays, he -pointed out that it was growing very late, and there was no time to be -lost.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{86}</i></span></p> - -<p>The boy nodded, and tapping on the main door of the women’s quarters, -he entered. Everyone was sound asleep. ‘I am going to sleep in the -ante-room’ the boy said out loud; ‘I shall leave the door open so as -to make a draught;’ and so saying he spread his mattress on the -ground, and for a while pretended to be asleep. Soon however, he got -up and spread a screen as though to protect him from the light, and -under its shadow Genji slipped softly into the room.</p> - -<p>Not knowing what was to happen next, and much doubting whether any -good would come of the venture, with great trepidation he followed the -boy to the curtain that screened the main bedroom, and pulling it -aside entered on tip-toe. But even in the drab garments which he had -chosen for his disguise, he seemed to the boy to cut a terribly -conspicuous figure as he passed through the midnight quietness of the -house.</p> - -<p>Utsusemi meanwhile had persuaded herself that she was very glad Genji -had forgotten to pay his threatened visit. But she was still haunted -by the memory of their one strange and dreamlike meeting, and was in -no mood for sleep. But near her, as she lay tossing, the lady of the -<i>go</i> party, delighted by her visit and all the opportunities it had -afforded for chattering to her heart’s content, was already asleep. -And as she was young and had no troubles she slept very soundly. The -princely scent which still clung to Genji’s person reached the bed. -Utsusemi raised her head, and fancied that she saw something move -behind a part of the curtain that was only of one thickness. Though it -was very dark she recognized Genji’s figure. Filled with a sudden -terror and utter bewilderment, she sprang from the bed, threw a -fragile gauze mantle over her shoulders, and fled silently from the -room.</p> - -<p>A moment later Genji entered. He saw with delight that <span class="pagenum"><i>{87}</i></span>there was only -one person in the room, and that the bed was arranged for two. He -threw off his cloak, and advanced towards the sleeping figure. She -seemed a more imposing figure than he had expected, but this did not -trouble him. It did indeed seem rather strange that she should be so -sound asleep. Gradually he realized with horror that it was not she at -all. ‘It is no use’ thought Genji ‘saying that I have come to the -wrong room, for I have no business anywhere here. Nor is it worth -while pursuing my real lady, for she would not have vanished like this -if she cared a straw about me.’ What if it were the lady he had seen -by the lamplight? She might not after all prove a bad exchange! But no -sooner had he thought this than he was horrified at his own frivolity.</p> - -<p>She opened her eyes. She was naturally somewhat startled, but did not -seem to be at all seriously put out. She was a thoughtless creature in -whose life no very strong emotion had ever played a part. Hers was the -flippancy that goes with inexperience, and even this sudden visitation -did not seem very much to perturb her.</p> - -<p>He meant at first to explain that it was not to see her that he had -come. But to do so would have been to give away the secret which -Utsusemi so jealously guarded from the world. There was nothing for -it, but to pretend that his repeated visits to the house, of which the -lady was well aware, had been made in the hope of meeting her! This -was a story which would not have withstood the most cursory -examination; but, outrageous as it was, the girl accepted it without -hesitation.</p> - -<p>He did not by any means dislike her, but at that moment all his -thoughts were busy with the lady who had so mysteriously vanished. No -doubt she was congratulating herself in some safe hiding-place upon -the absurd situation in which she had left him. Really, she was the -most obstinate <span class="pagenum"><i>{88}</i></span> creature in the world! What was the use of running -after her? But all the same she continued to obsess him.</p> - -<p>But the girl in front of him was young and gay and charming. They were -soon getting on very well together.</p> - -<p>‘Is not this kind of thing much more amusing than what happens with -people whom one knows?’ asked Genji a little later. ‘Do not think -unkindly of me. Our meeting must for the present remain a secret. I am -in a position which does not always allow me to act as I please. Your -people too would no doubt interfere if they should hear of it, which -would be very tiresome. Wait patiently, and do not forget me.’ These -rather tepid injunctions did not strike her as at all unsatisfactory, -and she answered very seriously ‘I am afraid it will not be very easy -for me even to write to you. People would think it very odd.’ ‘Of -course we must not let ordinary people into our secret’ he answered, -‘but there is no reason why this little page should not sometimes -carry a message. Meanwhile not a word to anyone!’ And with that he -left her, taking as he did so Utsusemi’s thin scarf which had slipped -from her shoulders when she fled from the room.</p> - -<p>He went to wake his page who was lying not far away. The boy sprang -instantly to his feet, for he was sleeping very lightly, not knowing -when his help might be required. He opened the door as quietly as he -could. ‘Who is that?’ someone called out in great alarm. It was the -voice of an old woman who worked in the house. ‘It is I’ answered the -boy uneasily. ‘What are you walking about here for at this time of -night?’ and scolding as she came, she began to advance towards the -door. ‘Bother her’ thought the boy, but he answered hastily ‘It’s all -right, I am only going outside for a minute;’ but just as Genji passed -through the door, the moon of dawn suddenly emerged in all her -brightness. Seeing a grown man’s figure appear in the doorway <span class="pagenum"><i>{89}</i></span> ‘Whom -have you got with you?’ the old lady asked, and then answering her own -question ‘Why it is Mimbu! what an outrageous height that girl has -grown to!’ and continuing to imagine that the boy was walking with -Mimbu, a maid-servant whose lankiness was a standing joke in the -house, ‘and you will soon be as big as she is, little Master!’ she -cried, and so saying came out through the door that they had just -passed through. Genji felt very uncomfortable, and making no answer on -the supposed Mimbu’s behalf, he stood in the shadow at the end of the -corridor, hiding himself as best he could. ‘You have been on duty, -haven’t you dear?’ said the old lady as she came towards them. ‘I have -been terribly bad with the colic since yesterday and was lying up, but -they were shorthanded last night, and I had to go and help, though I -did feel very queer all the while.’ And then, without waiting for them -to answer, ‘Oh, my pain, my poor pain’ she muttered ‘I can’t stop here -talking like this’ and she hobbled past them without looking up.</p> - -<p>So narrow an escape made Genji wonder more than ever whether the whole -thing was worth while. He drove back to his house, with the boy riding -as his postillion.</p> - -<p>Here he told him the story of his evening’s adventure. ‘A pretty mess -you made of it!’ And when he had finished scolding the boy for his -incompetence, he began to rail at the sister’s irritating prudishness. -The poor child felt very unhappy, but could think of nothing to say in -his own or his sister’s defence.</p> - -<p>‘I am utterly wretched’ said Genji. ‘It is obvious that she would not -have behaved as she did last night unless she absolutely detested me. -But she might at least have the decency to send civil answers to my -letters. Oh, well, I suppose Iyo no Kami is the better man....’ So he -spoke, thinking that she desired only to be rid of him. Yet when <span class="pagenum"><i>{90}</i></span> -at last he lay down to rest, he was wearing her scarf hidden under his -dress. He had put the boy by his side, and after giving much vent to -his exasperation, he said at last ‘I am very fond of you, but I am -afraid in future I shall always think of you in connection with this -hateful business, and that will put an end to our friendship.’ He said -it with such conviction that the boy felt quite forlorn.</p> - -<p>For a while they rested, but Genji could not sleep, and at dawn he -sent in haste for his ink-stone. He did not write a proper letter, but -scribbled on a piece of folded paper, in the manner of a writing -exercise, a poem in which he compared the scarf which she had dropped -in her flight to the dainty husk which the cicada sheds on some bank -beneath a tree.</p> - -<p>The boy picked the paper up, and thrust it into the folds of his dress.</p> - -<p>Genji was very much distressed at the thought of what the other lady’s -feelings must be; but after some reflection he decided that it would -be better not to send any message.</p> - -<p>The scarf, to which still clung the delicate perfume of its owner, he -wore for long afterwards beneath his dress.</p> - -<p>When the boy got home he found his sister waiting for him in very -ill-humour. ‘It was not your doing that I escaped from the odious -quandary in which you landed me! And even so pray what explanation can -I offer to my friend?’ ‘A fine little clown the Prince must think you -now. I hope you are ashamed of yourself.’</p> - -<p>Despite the fact that both parties were using him so ill, the boy drew -the rescued verses from out the folds of his dress and handed them to -her. She could not forbear to read them. What of this discarded -mantle? Why should he speak of it? <i>The coat that the fishers of Iseo -left lying upon the shore ...</i><a id="FNanchor_III_3" href="#Footnote_III_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> those were the words that came into -<span class="pagenum"><i>{91}</i></span> her mind, but they were not the clue. She was sorely puzzled.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the Lady of the West<a id="FNanchor_III_4" href="#Footnote_III_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> was feeling very ill at ease. She -was longing to talk about what had happened, but must not do so, and -had to bear the burden of her impatience all alone. The arrival of -Utsusemi’s brother put her into a great state of excitement. No letter -for her? she could not understand it at all, and for the first time a -cloud settled upon her gay confiding heart.</p> - -<p>Utsusemi, though she had so fiercely steeled herself against his love, -seeing such tenderness hidden under the words of his message, again -fell to longing that she were free, and though there was no undoing -what was done she found it so hard to go without him that she took up -the folded paper and wrote in the margin a poem in which she said that -her sleeve, so often wet with tears, was like the cicada’s -dew-drenched wing.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_III_1" href="#FNanchor_III_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> Ki no Kami’s sister, referred to later in the story as Nokiba no -Ogi. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_III_2" href="#FNanchor_III_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> This name means ‘cicada ‘and is given to her later in the story in -reference to the scarf which she ‘discarded as a cicada sheds its -husk.’ But at this point it becomes grammatically important that she -should have a name and I therefore anticipate. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_III_3" href="#FNanchor_III_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> Allusion to the old poem, ‘Does he know that since he left me my -eyes are wet as the coat that the fishers ... left lying upon the -shore?’ -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_III_4" href="#FNanchor_III_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> The visitor. -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_92"><i>{92}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br /> -<span class="larger">YŪGAO</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT was at the time when he was secretly visiting the lady of the Sixth -Ward.<a id="FNanchor_IV_1" href="#Footnote_IV_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> One day on his way back from the Palace he thought that he -would call upon his foster-mother who, having for a long while been -very ill, had become a nun. She lived in the Fifth Ward. After many -enquiries he managed to find the house; but the front gate was locked -and he could not drive in. He sent one of his servants for Koremitsu, -his foster-nurse’s son, and while he was waiting began to examine the -rather wretched looking by-street. The house next door was fenced with -a new paling, above which at one place were four or five panels of -open trellis-work, screened by blinds which were very white and bare. -Through chinks in these blinds a number of foreheads could be seen. -They seemed to belong to a group of ladies who must be peeping with -interest into the street below.</p> - -<p>At first he thought they had merely peeped out as they passed; but he -soon realized that if they were standing on the floor they must be -giants. No, evidently they had taken the trouble to climb on to some -table or bed; which was surely rather odd!</p> - -<p>He had come in a plain coach with no outriders. No one could possibly -guess who he was, and feeling quite at his <span class="pagenum"><i>{93}</i></span> ease he leant forward -and deliberately examined the house. The gate, also made of a kind of -trellis-work, stood ajar, and he could see enough of the interior to -realize that it was a very humble and poorly furnished dwelling. For a -moment he pitied those who lived in such a place, but then he -remembered the song ‘Seek not in the wide world to find a home; but -where you chance to rest, call that your house’; and again, ‘Monarchs -may keep their palaces of jade, for in a leafy cottage two can sleep.’</p> - -<p>There was a wattled fence over which some ivy-like creeper spread its -cool green leaves, and among the leaves were white flowers with petals -half unfolded like the lips of people smiling at their own thoughts. -‘They are called Yūgao, “Evening Faces,”’ one of his servants told -him; ‘how strange to find so lovely a crowd clustering on this -deserted wall!’ And indeed it was a most strange and delightful thing -to see how on the narrow tenement in a poor quarter of the town they -had clambered over rickety eaves and gables and spread wherever there -was room for them to grow. He sent one of his servants to pick some. -The man entered at the half-opened door, and had begun to pluck the -flowers, when a little girl in a long yellow tunic came through a -quite genteel sliding door, and holding out towards Genji’s servant a -white fan heavily perfumed with incense, she said to him ‘Would you -like something to put them on? I am afraid you have chosen a -wretched-looking bunch,’ and she handed him the fan. Just as he was -opening the gate on his way back, the old nurse’s son Koremitsu came -out of the other house full of apologies for having kept Genji waiting -so long—‘I could not find the key of the gate’ he said. ‘Fortunately -the people of this humble quarter were not likely to recognize you and -press or stare; but I am afraid you must have been very much bored -waiting in this hugger-mugger back street,’ <span class="pagenum"><i>{94}</i></span> and he conducted Genji -into the house. Koremitsu’s brother, the deacon, his brother-in-law -Mikawa no Kami and his sister all assembled to greet the Prince, -delighted by a visit with which they had not thought he was ever -likely to honour them again.</p> - -<p>The nun too rose from her couch: ‘For a long time I had been waiting -to give up the world, but one thing held me back: I wanted you to see -your old nurse just once again as you used to know her. You never came -to see me, and at last I gave up waiting and took my vows. Now, in -reward for the penances which my Order enjoins, I have got back a -little of my health, and having seen my dear young master again, I can -wait with a quiet mind for the Lord Amida’s Light,’ and in her -weakness she shed a few tears.</p> - -<p>‘I heard some days ago’ said Genji ‘that you were very dangerously -ill, and was in great anxiety. It is sad now to find you in this -penitential garb. You must live longer yet, and see me rise in the -world, that you may be born again high in the ninth sphere of Amida’s -Paradise. For they say that those who died with longings unfulfilled -are burdened with an evil Karma in their life to come.’</p> - -<p>People such as old nurses regard even the most blackguardly and -ill-favoured foster-children as prodigies of beauty and virtue. Small -wonder then if Genji’s nurse, who had played so great a part in his -early life, always regarded her office as immensely honourable and -important, and tears of pride came into her eyes while he spoke to her.</p> - -<p>The old lady’s children thought it very improper that their mother, -having taken holy orders, should show so lively an interest in a human -career. Certain that Genji himself would be very much shocked, they -exchanged uneasy glances. He was on the contrary deeply touched. ‘When -I was a child’ he said ‘those who were dearest to me were early -taken away, and although there were many who gave <span class="pagenum"><i>{95}</i></span> a hand to my -upbringing, it was to you only, dear nurse, that I was deeply and -tenderly attached. When I grew up I could not any longer be often in -your company. I have not even been able to come here and see you as -often as I wanted to. But in all the long time which has passed since -I was last here, I have thought a great deal about you and wished that -life did not force so many bitter partings upon us.’</p> - -<p>So he spoke tenderly. The princely scent of the sleeve which he had -raised to brush away his tears filled the low and narrow room, and -even the young people, who had till now been irritated by their -mother’s obvious pride at having been the nurse of so splendid a -prince, found themselves in tears.</p> - -<p>Having arranged for continual masses to be said on the sick woman’s -behalf, he took his leave, ordering Koremitsu to light him with a -candle. As they left the house he looked at the fan upon which the -white flowers had been laid. He now saw that there was writing on it, -a poem carelessly but elegantly scribbled: ‘The flower that puzzled -you was but the <i>Yūgao</i>, strange beyond knowing in its dress of -shining dew.’ It was written with a deliberate negligence which seemed -to aim at concealing the writer’s status and identity. But for all -that the hand showed a breeding and distinction which agreeably -surprised him. ‘Who lives in the house on the left?’ he asked. -Koremitsu, who did not at all want to act as a go-between, replied -that he had only been at his mother’s for five or six days and had -been so much occupied by her illness that he had not asked any -questions about the neighbours. ‘I want to know for a quite harmless -reason’ said -<a id="Genji"></a><ins title="Original has ‘Gengi’.">Genji</ins>. -‘There is something about this fan which raises a -rather important point. I positively must settle it. You would oblige -me by making enquiries from someone who knows the neighbourhood.’ -Koremitsu <span class="pagenum"><i>{96}</i></span> went at once to the house next door and sent for -the steward. ‘This house’ the man said ‘belongs to a certain -Titular-Prefect. He is living in the country, but my lady is still -here; and as she is young and loves company, her brothers who are in -service at the Court often come here to visit her.’ ‘And that is about -all one can expect a servant to know’ said Koremitsu when he repeated -this information. It occurred at once to Genji that it was one of -these Courtiers who had written the poem. Yes, there was certainly a -self-confident air in the writing. It was by someone whose rank -entitled him to have a good opinion of himself. But he was -romantically disposed; it was too painful to dismiss altogether the -idea that, after all, the verses might really have been meant for him, -and on a folded paper he wrote: ‘Could I but get a closer view, no -longer would they puzzle me—the flowers that all too dimly in the -gathering dusk I saw.’ This he wrote in a disguised hand and gave to -his servant. The man reflected that though the senders of the fan had -never seen Genji before, yet so well known were his features, that -even the glimpse they had got from the window might easily have -revealed to them his identity. He could imagine the excitement with -which the fan had been despatched and the disappointment when for so -long a time no answer came. His somewhat rudely belated arrival would -seem to them to have been purposely contrived. They would all be agog -to know what was in the reply, and he felt very nervous as he -approached the house.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, lighted only by a dim torch, Genji quietly left his nurse’s -home. The blinds of the other house were now drawn and only the -fire-fly glimmer of a candle shone through the gap between them.</p> - -<p>When he reached his destination<a id="FNanchor_IV_2" href="#Footnote_IV_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> a very different scene met his -eyes. A handsome park, a well-kept garden; how <span class="pagenum"><i>{97}</i></span> spacious and -comfortable it all was! And soon the magnificent owner of these -splendours had driven from his head all thought of the wooden paling, -the shutters and the flowers.</p> - -<p>He stayed longer than he intended, and the sun was already up when he -set out for home. Again he passed the house with the shutters. He had -driven through the quarter countless times without taking the -slightest interest in it; but that one small episode of the fan had -suddenly made his daily passage through these streets an event of -great importance. He looked about him eagerly, and would have liked to -know who lived in all the houses.</p> - -<p>For several days Koremitsu did not present himself at Genji’s palace. -When at last he came, he explained that his mother was growing much -weaker and it was very difficult for him to get away. Then drawing -nearer, he said in a low voice ‘I made some further enquiries, but -could not find out much. It seems that someone came very secretly in -June and has been living there ever since; but who she really is not -even her own servants know. I have once or twice peeped through a hole -in the hedge and caught a glimpse of some young women; but their -skirts were rolled back and tucked in at their belts, so I think they -must have been waiting-maids. Yesterday some while after sunset I saw -a lady writing a letter. Her face was calm, but she looked very -unhappy, and I noticed that some of her women were secretly weeping.’ -Genji was more curious than ever.</p> - -<p>Though his master was of a rank which brought with it great -responsibilities, Koremitsu knew that in view of his youth and -popularity the young prince would be thought to be positively -neglecting his duty if he did not indulge in a few escapades, and that -everyone would regard his <span class="pagenum"><i>{98}</i></span> conduct as perfectly natural and proper -even when it was such as they would not have dreamed of permitting to -ordinary people.</p> - -<p>‘Hoping to get a little further information,’ he said, ‘I found an -excuse for communicating with her, and received in reply a very -well-worded answer in a cultivated hand. She must be a girl of quite -good position.’ ‘You must find out more’ said Genji; ‘I shall not be -happy till I know all about her.’</p> - -<p>Here perhaps was just such a case as they had imagined on that rainy -night: a lady whose outward circumstances seemed to place her in that -‘Lowest Class’ which they had agreed to dismiss as of no interest; but -who in her own person showed qualities by no means despicable.</p> - -<p>But to return for a moment to Utsusemi. Her unkindness had not -affected him as it would have affected most people. If she had -encouraged him he would soon have regarded the affair as an appalling -indiscretion which he must put an end to at all costs; whereas now he -brooded continually upon his defeat and was forever plotting new ways -to shake her resolution.</p> - -<p>He had never, till the day of his visit to the foster-nurse, been -interested in anyone of quite the common classes. But now, since that -rainy night’s conversation, he had explored (so it seemed to him) -every corner of society, including in his survey even those categories -which his friends had passed over as utterly remote and improbable. He -thought of the lady who had, so to speak, been thrown into his life as -an extra. With how confiding an air she had promised that she would -wait! He was very sorry about her, but he was afraid that if he wrote -to her Utsusemi might find out and that would prejudice his chances. -He would write to her afterwards....</p> - -<p>Suddenly at this point Iyo no Suke himself was announced. <span class="pagenum"><i>{99}</i></span> He had -just returned from his province, and had lost no time in paying his -respects to the prince. The long journey by boat had made him look -rather swarthy and haggard. ‘Really’ thought Genji ‘he is not at all -an attractive man!’ Still it was possible to talk to him; for if a man -is of decent birth and breeding, however broken he may be by age or -misfortune, he will always retain a certain refinement of mind and -manners which prevent him from becoming merely repulsive. They were -beginning to discuss the affairs of Iyo’s province and Genji was even -joking with him, when a sudden feeling of embarrassment came over him. -Why should those recollections make him feel so awkward? Iyo no Suke -was quite an old man, it had done him no harm. ‘These scruples are -absurd’ thought Genji. However, she was right in thinking it was -too queer, too ill-assorted a match; and remembering Uma no Kami’s -warnings, he felt that he had behaved badly. Though her unkindness -still deeply wounded him, he was almost glad for Iyo’s sake that she -had not relented.</p> - -<p>‘My daughter is to be married’ Iyo was saying ‘And I am going to take -my wife back with me to my province.’ Here was a double surprise. At -all costs he must see Utsusemi once again. He spoke with her brother -and the boy discussed the matter with her. It would have been -difficult enough for anyone to have carried on an intrigue with the -prince under such circumstances as these. But for her, so far below -him in rank and beset by new restrictions, it had now become -unthinkable. She could not however bear to lose all contact with him, -and not only did she answer his letters much more kindly than before, -but took pains, though they were written with apparent negligence, to -add little touches that would give him pleasure and make him see that -she still cared for him. All this he noticed, and though he was vexed -that she would <span class="pagenum"><i>{100}</i></span> not relent towards him, he found it impossible to -put her out of his mind.</p> - -<p>As for the other girl, he did not think that she was at all the kind -of person to go on pining for him once she was properly settled with a -husband; and he now felt quite happy about her.</p> - -<p>It was autumn. Genji had brought so many complications into his life -that he had for some while been very irregular in his visits to the -Great Hall, and was in great disgrace there. The lady<a id="FNanchor_IV_3" href="#Footnote_IV_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> in the grand -mansion was very difficult to get on with; but he had surmounted so -many obstacles in his courtship of her that to give her up the moment -he had won her seemed absurd. Yet he could not deny that the blind -intoxicating passion which possessed him while she was still -unattainable, had almost disappeared. To begin with, she was far too -sensitive; then there was the disparity of their ages,<a id="FNanchor_IV_4" href="#Footnote_IV_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> and the -constant dread of discovery which haunted him during those painful -partings at small hours of the morning. In fact, there were too many -disadvantages.</p> - -<p>It was a morning when mist lay heavy over the garden. After being many -times roused Genji at last came out of Rokujō’s room, looking very -cross and sleepy. One of the maids lifted part of the folding-shutter, -seeming to invite her mistress to watch the prince’s departure. Rokujō -pulled aside the bed-curtains and tossing her hair back over her -shoulders looked out into the garden. So many lovely flowers were -growing in the borders that Genji halted for a while to enjoy them. -How beautiful he looked standing there, she thought. As he was nearing -the portico the maid who had opened the shutters came and walked by -his side. She wore a light green skirt exquisitely matched to the -season and place; it was so hung as to show to great advantage <span class="pagenum"><i>{101}</i></span> -the grace and suppleness of her stride. Genji looked round at her. -‘Let us sit down for a minute on the railing here in the corner,’ he -said. ‘She seems very shy’ he thought, ‘but how charmingly her hair -falls about her shoulders,’ and he recited the poem: ‘Though I would -not be thought to wander heedlessly from flower to flower, yet this -morning’s pale convolvulus I fain would pluck!’ As he said the lines -he took her hand and she answered with practised ease: ‘You hasten, I -observe, to admire the morning flowers while the mist still lies about -them,’ thus parrying the compliment by a verse which might be -understood either in a personal or general sense. At this moment a -very elegant page wearing the most bewitching baggy trousers came -among the flowers brushing the dew as he walked, and began to pick a -bunch of the convolvuli. Genji longed to paint the scene.</p> - -<p>No one could see him without pleasure. He was like the flowering tree -under whose shade even the rude mountain peasant delights to rest. And -so great was the fascination he exercised that those who knew him -longed to offer him whatever was dearest to them. One who had a -favourite daughter would ask for nothing better than to make her -Genji’s handmaiden. Another who had an exquisite sister was ready for -her to serve in his household, though it were at the most menial -tasks. Still less could these ladies who on such occasions as this -were privileged to converse with him and stare at him as much as they -pleased, and were moreover young people of much sensibility—how could -they fail to delight in his company and note with much uneasiness that -his visits were becoming far less frequent than before?</p> - -<p>But where have I got to? Ah, yes. Koremitsu had patiently continued -the enquiry with which Genji entrusted him. ‘Who the mistress is’ he -said, ‘I have not been able <span class="pagenum"><i>{102}</i></span> to discover; and for the most part -she is at great pains not to show herself. But more than once in the -general confusion, when there was the sound of a carriage coming along -past that great row of tenement houses, and all the maid-servants were -peering out into the road, the young lady whom I suppose to be the -mistress of the house slipped out along with them. I could not see her -clearly, but she seemed to be very pretty.</p> - -<p>‘One day, seeing a carriage with outriders coming towards the house, -one of the maids rushed off calling out “Ukon, Ukon, come quickly and -look. The Captain’s carriage is coming this way.” At once a -pleasant-faced lady no longer young, came bustling out. “Quietly, -quietly” she said holding up a warning finger; “how do you know it is -the Captain? I shall have to go and look,” and she slipped out. A sort -of rough drawbridge leads from the garden into the lane. In her -excitement the good lady caught her skirt in it and falling flat on -her face almost tumbled into the ditch: “A bad piece of work His -Holiness of Katsuragi<a id="FNanchor_IV_5" href="#Footnote_IV_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> made here!” she grumbled; but her curiosity -did not seem to be at all damped and she stared harder than ever at -the approaching carriage. The visitor was dressed in a plain, wide -cloak. He had attendants with him, whose names the excited -servant-girls called out as one after another they came near enough to -be recognized; and the odd thing is that the names were certainly -those of Tō no Chūjō’s<a id="FNanchor_IV_6" href="#Footnote_IV_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> grooms and pages.’</p> - -<p>‘I must see that carriage for myself’ said Genji. What if this should -be the very lady whom Chūjō, at the time of that rainy night’s -conversation, despaired of rediscovering? Koremitsu, noting that Genji -was listening with particular attention continued: ‘I must tell you -that I too have <span class="pagenum"><i>{103}</i></span> reason to be interested in this house, and while -making enquiries on my own account I discovered that the young lady -always addresses the other girls in the house as though they were her -equals. But when, pretending to be taken in by this comedy, I began -visiting there, I noticed that though the older ladies played their -part very well, the young girls would every now and then curtsey or -slip in a “My Lady” without thinking; whereupon the others would -hasten to cover up the mistake as best they might, saying anything -they could think of to make it appear that there was no mistress among -them,’ and Koremitsu laughed as he recollected it.</p> - -<p>‘Next time I come to visit your mother’ said Genji, ‘you must let me -have a chance of peeping at them.’ He pictured to himself the queer, -tumbled-down house. She was only living there for the time being; but -all the same she must surely belong to that ‘bottom class’ which they -had dismissed as having no possible bearing on the discussion. How -amusing it would be to show that they were wrong and that after all -something of interest might be discovered in such a place!</p> - -<p>Koremitsu, anxious to carry out his master’s every wish and intent -also on his own intrigue, contrived at last by a series of ingenious -stratagems to effect a secret meeting between Genji and the mysterious -lady. The details of the plan by which he brought this about would -make a tedious story, and as is my rule in such cases I have thought -it better to omit them.</p> - -<p>Genji never asked her by what name he was to call her, nor did he -reveal his own identity. He came very poorly dressed and—what was most -unusual for him—on foot. But Koremitsu regarded this as too great a -tribute to so unimportant a lady, and insisted upon Genji riding his -horse, while he walked by his side. In doing so he sacrificed his <span class="pagenum"><i>{104}</i></span> -own feelings; for he too had reasons for wishing to create a good -impression in the house, and he knew that by arriving in this rather -undignified way he would sink in the estimation of the inhabitants. -Fortunately his discomfiture was almost unwitnessed, for Genji took -with him only the one attendant who had on the first occasion plucked -the flowers—a boy whom no one was likely to recognize; and lest -suspicions should be aroused, he did not even take advantage of his -presence in the neighbourhood to call at his foster-nurse’s house.</p> - -<p>The lady was very much mystified by all these precautions and made -great efforts to discover something more about him. She even sent -someone after him to see where he went to when he left her at -day-break; but he succeeded in throwing his pursuer off the scent and -she was no wiser than before. He was now growing far too fond of her. -He was miserable if anything interfered with his visits; and though he -utterly disapproved of his own conduct and worried a great deal about -it, he soon found that he was spending most of his time at her house.</p> - -<p>He knew that at some time or another in their lives even the soberest -people lose their heads in this way; but hitherto he had never really -lost his, or done anything which could possibly have been considered -very wrong. Now to his astonishment and dismay he discovered that even -the few morning hours during which he was separated from her were -becoming unendurable. ‘What is it in her that makes me behave like a -madman?’ he kept on asking himself. She was astonishingly gentle and -unassuming, to the point even of seeming rather apathetic, rather -deficient perhaps in depth of character and emotion; and though she -had a certain air of girlish inexperience, it was clear that he was -not by any means her first lover; and certainly she was rather -plebeian. What was it exactly that so fascinated <span class="pagenum"><i>{105}</i></span> him? He asked -himself the question again and again, but found no answer.</p> - -<p>She for her part was very uneasy to see him come to her thus in shabby -old hunting-clothes, trying always to hide his face, leaving while it -was still dark and everyone was asleep. He seemed like some -demon-lover in an old ghost-tale, and she was half-afraid. But his -smallest gesture showed that he was someone out of the ordinary, and -she began to suspect that he was a person of high rank, who had used -Koremitsu as his go-between. But Koremitsu obstinately pretended to -know nothing at all about his companion, and continued to amuse -himself by frequenting the house on his own account.</p> - -<p>What could it mean? She was dismayed at this strange love-making -with—she knew not whom. But about her too there was something -fugitive, insubstantial. Genji was obsessed by the idea that, just as -she had hidden herself in this place, so one day she would once more -vanish and hide, and he would never be able to find her again. There -was every sign that her residence here was quite temporary. He was -sure that when the time came to move she would not tell him where she -was going. Of course her running away would be proof that she was not -worth bothering about any more, and he ought, thankful for the -pleasure they had had together, simply to leave the matter at that. -But he knew that this was the last thing he would be likely to do.</p> - -<p>People were already beginning to be suspicious, and often for several -nights running he was unable to visit her. This became so intolerable -that in his impatience he determined to bring her secretly to the -Nijō-in.<a id="FNanchor_IV_7" href="#Footnote_IV_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> There would be an appalling outcry if she were discovered; -but that must be risked.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{106}</i></span></p> - -<p>‘I am going to take you somewhere very nice where no one will disturb -us’ he said at last. ‘No, No’ she cried; ‘your ways are so strange, I -should be frightened to go with you.’ She spoke in a tone of childish -terror, and Genji answered smiling: ‘One or the other of us must be a -fox-in-disguise.<a id="FNanchor_IV_8" href="#Footnote_IV_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> Here is a chance to find out which it is!’ He -spoke very kindly, and suddenly, in a tone of absolute submission, she -consented to do whatever he thought best. He could not but be touched -at her willingness to follow him in what must appear to her to be the -most hazardous and bizarre adventure. Again he thought of Tō no -Chūjō’s story on that rainy night, and could not doubt that this must -indeed be Chūjō’s fugitive lady. But he saw that she had some reason -for wishing to avoid all questions about her past, and he restrained -his curiosity. So far as he could see she showed no signs of running -away; nor did he believe that she would do so as long as he was -faithful. Tō no Chūjō, after all, had for months on end left her to -her own devices. But he felt that if for an instant she suspected him -of the slightest leaning in any other direction it would be a bad -business.</p> - -<p>It was the fifteenth night of the eighth month. The light of an -unclouded full-moon shone between the ill-fitting planks of the roof -and flooded the room. What a queer place to be lying in! thought -Genji, as he gazed round the garret, so different from any room he had -ever known before. It must be almost day. In the neighbouring houses -people were beginning to stir, and there was an uncouth sound of -peasant voices: ‘Eh! how cold it is! I can’t believe we shall do much -with the crops this year.’ ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen about -my carrying-trade’ said another; ‘things look very bad.’ Then (banging -on the <span class="pagenum"><i>{107}</i></span> wall of another house) ‘Wake up, neighbour. Time to start. -Did he hear, d’you think?’ and they rose and went off each to the -wretched task by which he earned his bread.</p> - -<p>All this clatter and bustle going on so near her made the lady very -uncomfortable, and indeed so dainty and fastidious a person must often -in this miserable lodging have suffered things which would make her -long to sink through the floor. But however painful, disagreeable or -provoking were the things that happened, she gave no sign of noticing -them. That being herself so shrinking and delicate in her ways she -could yet endure without a murmur the exasperating banging and bumping -that was going on in every direction, aroused his admiration, and he -felt that this was much nicer of her than if she had shuddered with -horror at each sound. But now, louder than thunder, came the noise of -the threshing-mills, seeming so near that they could hardly believe it -did not come from out of the pillow itself. Genji thought that his -ears would burst. What many of the noises were he could not at all -make out; but they were very peculiar and startling. The whole air -seemed to be full of crashings and bangings. Now from one side, now -from another, came too the faint thud of the bleacher’s mallet, and -the scream of wild geese passing overhead. It was all too distracting.</p> - -<p>Their room was in the front of the house. Genji got up and opened the -long, sliding shutters. They stood together looking out. In the -courtyard near them was a clump of fine Chinese bamboos; dew lay thick -on the borders, glittering here no less brightly than in the great -gardens to which Genji was better accustomed. There was a confused -buzzing of insects. Crickets were chirping in the wall. He had often -listened to them, but always at a distance; now, singing so close to -him, they made a music which was unfamiliar and indeed seemed far -lovelier than that with <span class="pagenum"><i>{108}</i></span> which he was acquainted. But then, -everything in this place where one thing was so much to his liking, -seemed despite all drawbacks to take on a new tinge of interest and -beauty. She was wearing a white bodice with a soft, grey cloak over -it. It was a poor dress, but she looked charming and almost -distinguished; even so, there was nothing very striking in her -appearance—only a certain fragile grace and elegance. It was when she -was speaking that she looked really beautiful, there was such pathos, -such earnestness in her manner. If only she had a little more spirit! -But even as she was he found her irresistible and longed to take her -to some place where no one could disturb them: ‘I am going to take you -somewhere not at all far away where we shall be able to pass the rest -of the night in peace. We cannot go on like this, parting always at -break of day.’ ‘Why have you suddenly come to that conclusion?’ she -asked, but she spoke submissively. He vowed to her that she should be -his love in this and in all future lives and she answered so -passionately that she seemed utterly transformed from the listless -creature he had known, and it was hard to believe that such vows were -no novelty to her.</p> - -<p>Discarding all prudence he sent for the maid Ukon and bade her order -his servants to fetch a coach. The affair was soon known to all the -household, and the ladies were at first somewhat uneasy at seeing -their mistress carried off in this fashion; but on the whole they did -not think he looked the sort of person who would do her any harm. It -was now almost daylight. The cocks had stopped crowing. The voice of -an old man (a pilgrim preparing for the ascent of the Holy Mountain) -sounded somewhere not far away; and, as at each prayer he bent forward -to touch the ground with his head, they could hear with what pain and -difficulty he moved. What could he be asking for in his prayers, this -old man whose life seemed fragile as the morning dew? <span class="pagenum"><i>{109}</i></span> <span class="smcap">Namu tōrai -no dōshi</span> ‘Glory be to the Saviour that shall come’: now they could -hear the words. ‘Listen’ said Genji tenderly, ‘is not that an omen -that our love shall last through many lives to come? ‘And he recited -the poem: ‘Do not prove false this omen of the pilgrim’s chant: that -even in lives to come our love shall last unchanged.’</p> - -<p>Then unlike the lovers in the ‘Everlasting Wrong’ who prayed that they -might be as the ‘twin birds that share a wing’ (for they remembered -that this story had ended very sadly) they prayed ‘May our love last -till Maitreya comes as a Buddha into the World.’ But she, still -distrustful, answered his poem with the verse: ‘Such sorrow have I -known in this world that I have small hope of worlds to come.’ Her -versification was still a little tentative.<a id="FNanchor_IV_9" href="#Footnote_IV_9" class="fnanchor">9</a></p> - -<p>She was thinking with pleasure that the setting moon would light them -on their way, and Genji was just saying so when suddenly the moon -disappeared behind a bank of clouds. But there was still great beauty -in the dawning sky. Anxious to be gone before it was quite light, he -hurried her away to the coach and put Ukon by her side.</p> - -<p>They drove to an untenanted mansion which was not far off. While he -waited for the steward to come out Genji noticed that the gates were -crumbling away; dense shinobu-grass grew around them. So sombre an -entrance he had never seen. There was a thick mist and the dew was so -heavy that when he raised the carriage-blind his sleeve was drenched. -‘Never yet has such an adventure as this befallen me’ said Genji; ‘so -I am, as you may imagine, rather excited,’ and he made a poem in which -he said that though love’s folly had existed since the beginning of -the world, never could man have set out more rashly at the break of -day into a land unknown. ‘But to you this is no <span class="pagenum"><i>{110}</i></span> great novelty?’ -She blushed and in her turn made a poem: ‘I am as the moon that walks -the sky not knowing what menace the cruel hills may hold in store; -high though she sweeps, her light may suddenly be blotted out.’</p> - -<p>She seemed very depressed and nervous. But this he attributed to the -fact that she had probably always lived in small houses where -everything was huddled together, and he was amused at the idea that -this large mansion should overawe her. They drove in, and while a room -was being got ready they remained in the carriage which had been drawn -up alongside of the balustrade. Ukon, looking very innocent all the -while, was inwardly comparing this excursion with her mistress’s -previous adventures. She had noticed the tone of extreme deference -with which this latest lover had been received by the steward, and had -begun to draw her own conclusions.</p> - -<p>The mist was gradually clearing away. They left the coach and went -into the room which had been prepared for them. Though so quickly -improvised, their quarters were admirably clean and well-provided, for -the steward’s son had previously been a trusted house-servant of -Genji’s and had also worked at the Great Hall. Coming now to their -room he offered to send for some of Genji’s gentlemen, ‘For’ he said -‘I cannot bear to see you going unattended.’ ‘Do nothing of the kind’ -said Genji; ‘I have come here because I do not wish to be disturbed. -No one but yourself is to know that I have used this house,’ and he -exacted a promise of absolute secrecy. No regular meal had been -prepared, but the steward brought them a little rice porridge. Then -they lay down again to sleep together for the first time in this -unfamiliar and so strangely different place.</p> - -<p>The sun was high when they woke. Genji went and opened the shutters -himself. How deserted the garden looked! Certainly here there was no -one to spy upon them. He <span class="pagenum"><i>{111}</i></span> looked out into the distance: dense -woods fast turning to jungle. And nearer the house not a flower or -bush, but only unkempt, autumn grasslands, and a pond choked with -weeds. It was a wild and desolate place. It seemed that the steward -and his men must live in some outbuilding or lodge at a distance from -the house; for here there was no sign or sound of life. ‘It is, I must -own, a strange and forsaken place to which we have come. But no ghost -or evil fairy will dare molest you while <em>I</em> am here.’</p> - -<p>It pained her very much that he still was masked;<a id="FNanchor_IV_10" href="#Footnote_IV_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> and indeed such -a precaution was quite out of keeping with the stage at which they had -now arrived. So at last, reciting a poem in which he reminded her that -all their love down to this moment when ‘the flower opened its petals -to the evening dew’ had come from a chance vision seen casually from -the street, half-turning his face away, for a moment he let her see -him unmasked. ‘What of the “shining dew”’ he asked using the words -that she had written on the fan. ‘How little knew I of its beauty who -had but in the twilight doubted and guessed...!’; so she answered his -poem in a low and halting voice. She need not have feared, for to him, -poor as the verses were, they seemed delightful. And indeed the beauty -of his uncovered face, suddenly revealed to her in this black -wilderness of dereliction and decay, surpassed all loveliness that she -had ever dreamed of or imagined. ‘I cannot wonder that while I still -set this barrier between us, you did not choose to tell me all that I -longed to know. But now it would be very unkind of you not to tell me -your name.’ ‘I am like the fisherman’s daughter in the song’<a id="FNanchor_IV_11" href="#Footnote_IV_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> she -said, ‘“I have no name or home.”’ But for all that she would not tell -him who she was, she seemed much comforted that he had <span class="pagenum"><i>{112}</i></span> let her -see him. ‘Do as you please about it’ said Genji at last; but for a -while he was out of temper. Soon they had made it up again; and so the -day passed. Presently Koremitsu came to their quarters, bringing fruit -and other viands. He would not come in, for he was frightened that -Ukon would rate him mercilessly for the part he had played in -arranging the abduction of her mistress. He had now come to the -conclusion that the Lady must possess charms which he had wholly -overlooked, or Genji would certainly never have taken all this trouble -about her, and he was touched at his own magnanimity in surrendering -to his master a prize which he might well have kept for himself. It -was an evening of marvellous stillness. Genji sat watching the sky. -The lady found the inner room where she was sitting depressingly dark -and gloomy. He raised the blinds of the front room, and came to sit -with her. They watched the light of the sunset glowing in each other’s -eyes, and in her wonder at his adorable beauty and tenderness she -forgot all her fears. At last she was shy with him no longer, and he -thought that the new-found boldness and merriment became her very -well. She lay by his side till night. He saw that she was again -wearing the plaintive expression of a frightened child; so quickly -closing the partition-door he brought in the great lamp, saying: -‘Outwardly you are no longer shy with me; but I can see that deep down -in your heart there is still some sediment of rancour and distrust. It -is not kind to use me so,’ and again he was cross with her.</p> - -<p>What were the people at the Palace thinking? Would he have been sent -for? How far would the messengers pursue their search? He became quite -agitated. Then there was the great lady in the Sixth Ward.<a id="FNanchor_IV_12" href="#Footnote_IV_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> What a -frenzy she must be in! This time, however, she really had good <span class="pagenum"><i>{113}</i></span> -cause to be jealous. These and other unpleasant considerations were -crowding into his head, when looking at the girl who lay beside him so -trustfully, unconscious of all that was going on in his mind, he was -suddenly filled with an overwhelming tenderness towards her. How -tiresome the other was, with her eternal susceptibilities, jealousies -and suspicions! For a while at any rate he would stop seeing her. As -the night wore on they began sometimes to doze. Suddenly Genji saw -standing over him the figure of a woman, tall and majestic: ‘You who -think yourself so fine, how comes it that you have brought to toy with -you here this worthless common creature, picked up at random in the -streets? I am astonished and displeased,’ and with this she made as -though to drag the lady from his side. Thinking that this was some -nightmare or hallucination, he roused himself and sat up. The lamp had -gone out. Somewhat agitated he drew his sword and laid it beside him, -calling as he did so for Ukon. She came at once, looking a good deal -scared herself. ‘Please wake the watchman in the cross-wing,’ he said, -‘and tell him to bring a candle.’ ‘All in the dark like this? How can -I?’ she answered. ‘Don’t be childish,’ said Genji laughing and clapped -his hands.<a id="FNanchor_IV_13" href="#Footnote_IV_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> The sound echoed desolately through the empty house. He -could not make anyone hear; and meanwhile he noticed that his mistress -was trembling from head to foot. What should he do? He was still -undecided, when suddenly she burst out into a cold sweat. She seemed -to be losing consciousness. ‘Do not fear, Sir’ said Ukon ‘all her life -she has been subject to these nightmare fits.’ He remembered now how -tired she had seemed in the morning and how she had lain with her eyes -turned upwards as though in pain. ‘I will go myself and wake someone’ -he said; ‘I am tired of clapping with only echoes to answer me. <span class="pagenum"><i>{114}</i></span> -Do not leave her!’ and drawing Ukon towards the bed he went in the -direction of the main western door. But when he opened it, he found -that the lamp in the cross-wing had also gone out. A wind had risen. -The few attendants he had brought with him were already in bed. There -was indeed only the steward’s son (the young man who had once been -Genji’s body-servant), and the one young courtier who had attended him -on all his visits. They answered when he called and sprang to their -feet. ‘Come with a candle,’ he said to the steward’s son, -<a id="Open_Quote"></a><ins title="Original has no opening quote.">‘</ins>and tell my -man to get his bow and keep on twanging the string as loud as he can. -I wonder anyone should sleep so soundly in such a deserted place. What -has happened to Koremitsu?’ ‘He waited for some time, but as you -seemed to have no need of him, he went home, saying he would be back -at day-break.’</p> - -<p>Genji’s man had been an Imperial Bowman, and making a tremendous din -with his bow he strode towards the steward’s lodge crying ‘Fire, Fire’ -at the top of his voice. The twanging of the bow reminded Genji of the -Palace. The roll-call of night courtiers must be over; the Bowman’s -roll-call must be actually going on. It was not so very late.</p> - -<p>He groped his way back into the room. She was lying just as he had -left her, with Ukon face downwards beside her. ‘What are you doing -there’ he cried? ‘Have you gone mad with fright? You have heard no -doubt that in such lonely places as this, fox-spirits sometimes try to -cast a spell upon men. But, dear people, you need not fear. I have -come back, and will not let such creatures harm you.’ And so saying he -dragged Ukon from the bed. ‘Oh, Sir’ she said ‘I felt so queer and -frightened that I fell flat down upon my face; and what my poor lady -must be going through I dare not think.’ ‘Then try not to add to her -fright’ said Genji, and pushing her aside bent over <span class="pagenum"><i>{115}</i></span> the prostate -form. The girl was scarcely breathing. He touched her; she was quite -limp. She did not know him.</p> - -<p>Perhaps some accursed thing, some demon had tried to snatch her spirit -away; she was so timid, so childishly helpless. The man came with the -candle. Ukon was still too frightened to move. Genji placed a screen -so as to hide the bed and called the man to him. It was of course -contrary to etiquette that he should serve Genji himself and he -hesitated in embarrassment, not venturing even to ascend the dais. -‘Come here’ said Genji impatiently; ‘use your common-sense.’ -Reluctantly the man gave him the light, and as he held it towards the -bed, he saw for a moment the figure which had stood there in his dream -still hovering beside the pillow; suddenly it vanished. He had read in -old tales of such apparitions and of their power, and was in great -alarm. But for the moment he was so full of concern for the lady who -now lay motionless on the bed, that he gave no thought to that -menacing vision, and lying down beside her, began gently to move her -limbs. Already they were growing cold. Her breathing had quite -stopped. What could he do? To whom could he turn for help? He ought to -send for a priest. He tried to control himself, but he was very young, -and seeing her lying there all still and pale, he could contain -himself no longer and crying ‘Come back to me, my own darling, come -back to life. Do not look at me so strangely!’ he flung his arms about -her. But now she was quite cold. Her face was set in a dull, senseless -stare.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Ukon, who had been so busy with her own fears, came to -herself again, and set up the most dismal weeping. He disregarded her. -Something had occurred to him. There was a story of how a certain -minister was waylaid by a demon as he passed through the Southern -Hall. The man, Genji remembered, had been prostrate with fear; but in -the end he revived and escaped. No, she could not really <span class="pagenum"><i>{116}</i></span> be dead, -and turning to Ukon he said firmly: ‘Come now, we cannot have you -making such a hideous noise in the middle of the night.’ But he -himself was stunned with grief, and though he gave Ukon distracted -orders scarce knew what he was doing. Presently he sent for the -steward’s son and said to him: ‘Someone here has had a fright and is -in a very bad way. I want you to go to Koremitsu’s house and tell him -to come as quickly as he can. If his brother the priest is there too, -take him aside and tell him quietly that I should like to see him at -once. But do not speak loud enough for the nun their mother to hear; -for I would not have her know of this excursion.’ But though he -managed to say the words, his brain was all the while in a hideous -turmoil. For added to the ghastly thought that he himself had caused -her death there was the dread and horror with which the whole place -now inspired him.</p> - -<p>It was past midnight. A violent storm began to rise, sighing dismally -as it swept the pine-trees that clustered round the house. And all the -while some strange bird—an owl, he supposed—kept screeching hoarsely. -Utter desolation on all sides. No human voice; no friendly sound. Why, -why had he chosen this hideous place?</p> - -<p>Ukon had fainted and was lying by her mistress’s side. Was she too -going to die of fright? No, no. He must not give way to such thoughts. -He was now the only person left who was capable of action. Was there -nothing he could do? The candle was burning badly. He lit it again. -Over by the screen in the corner of the main room something was -moving. There it was again, but in another corner now. There was a -sound of footsteps treading cautiously. It still went on. Now they -were coming up behind him....</p> - -<p>If only Koremitsu would return! But Koremitsu was a rover and a long -time was wasted in looking for him. Would it never be day? It seemed -to him that this night <span class="pagenum"><i>{117}</i></span> was lasting a thousand years. But now, -somewhere a long way off, a cock crowed.</p> - -<p>Why had fate seen fit to treat him thus? He felt that it must be as a -punishment for all the strange and forbidden amours into which in -these last years he had despite himself been drawn, that now this -unheard of horror had befallen him. And such things, though one may -keep them secret for a time, always come out in the end. He minded -most that the Emperor would be certain to discover sooner or later -about this and all his other affairs. Then there was the general -scandal. Everyone would know. The very gutter boys would make merry -over him. Never, never must he do such things again, or his reputation -would utterly collapse....</p> - -<p>At last Koremitsu arrived. He prided himself on being always ready to -carry out his master’s wishes immediately at whatever hour of the -night or day, and he thought it very provoking of Genji to have sent -for him just on the one occasion when he was not to hand. And now that -he had come his master did not seem able to give him any orders, but -stood speechless in front of him.</p> - -<p>Ukon, hearing Koremitsu’s voice, suddenly came to herself and -remembering what had happened, burst into tears. And now Genji, who -while he alone was there had supported and encouraged the weeping -maid-servant, relieved at last by Koremitsu could contain himself no -longer, and suddenly realizing again the terrible thing that had -befallen him he burst into uncontrollable weeping. ‘Something horrible -has happened here,’ he managed to say at last, ‘too dreadful to -explain. I have heard that when such things as this suddenly befall, -certain scriptures should be read. I would have this done, and prayers -said. That is why I asked you to bring your brother....’</p> - -<p>‘He went up to the mountain yesterday’ said Koremitsu. <span class="pagenum"><i>{118}</i></span> ‘But I see -that there has been terrible work here afoot. Was it in some sudden -fit of madness that you did this thing?’ Genji shook his head. So -moved was Koremitsu at the sight of his master weeping, that he too -began to sob. Had he been an older man, versed in the ways of the -world, he might have been of some use in such a crisis, but both of -them were young and both were equally perplexed. At last Koremitsu -said: ‘One thing at least is clear. The steward’s son must not know. -For though he himself can be depended upon, he is the sort of person -who is sure to tell all his relatives, and they might meddle -disastrously in the affair. We had best get clear of this house as -quietly as we can.’ ‘Perhaps’ said Genji; ‘but it would be hard to -find a less frequented place than this.’ ‘At any rate’ Koremitsu -continued, ‘we cannot take her to her own house; for there her -gentlewomen, who loved her dearly, would raise such a weeping and -wailing as would soon bring a pack of neighbours swarming around, and -all would quickly be known. If only I knew of some mountain-temple—for -there such things are customary<a id="FNanchor_IV_14" href="#Footnote_IV_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> and pass almost unnoticed.’ He -paused and reflected. ‘There is a lady I once knew who has become a -nun and now lives on the Higashi Yama. She was my father’s wet-nurse -and is now very old and bent. She does not of course live alone; but -no outside people come there.’ A faint light was already showing in -the sky when Koremitsu brought the carriage in. Thinking that Genji -would not wish to move the body himself, he wrapt it in a rush-mat and -carried it towards the carriage. How small she was to hold! Her face -was calm and beautiful. He felt no repulsion. He could find no way to -secure her hair, and when he began to carry her it overflowed and -hung towards the ground. Genji saw, and his eyes darkened. A hideous -anguish possessed him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{119}</i></span></p> - -<p>He tried to follow the body, but Koremitsu dissuaded him, saying ‘You -must ride back to your palace as quickly as you can; you have just -time to get there before the stir begins,’ and putting Ukon into the -carriage, he gave Genji his horse. Then pulling up his silk trousers -to the knee, he accompanied the carriage on foot. It was a very -singular procession; but Koremitsu, seeing his master’s terrible -distress, forgot for the moment his own dignity and walked stolidly -on. Genji, hardly conscious of what went on around him arrived at last -in ghostly pallor at his house. ‘Where do you come from, my Lord?’ -‘How ill you look.’ ... Questions assailed him, but he hurried to his -room and lay behind his curtain. He tried to calm himself, but hideous -thoughts tormented him. Why had he not insisted upon going with her? -What if after all she were not dead and waking up should find that he -had thus abandoned her? While these wild thoughts chased through his -brain a terrible sensation of choking began to torment him. His head -ached, his body seemed to be on fire. Indeed he felt so strange that -he thought he too was about to die suddenly and inexplicably as she -had done. The sun was now high, but he did not get up. His gentlemen, -with murmurs of astonishment, tried every means to rouse him. He sent -away the dainties they brought, and lay hour after hour plunged in the -darkest thoughts. A messenger arrived from the Emperor: ‘His Majesty -has been uneasy since yesterday when his envoys sought everywhere for -your Highness in vain.’</p> - -<p>The young lords too came from the Great Hall. He would see none of -them but Tō no Chūjō, and even him he made stand outside his curtain -while he spoke to him: ‘My foster-mother has been very ill since the -fifth month. She shaved her head and performed other penances, in -consequence of which (or so it seems) she recovered a little and <span class="pagenum"><i>{120}</i></span> -got up, but is very much enfeebled. She sent word that she desired to -see me once more before she died, and as I was very fond of her when I -was a child, I could not refuse. While I was there a servant in the -house fell ill and died quite suddenly. Out of consideration for me -they removed the body at nightfall. But as soon as I was told of what -had happened I remembered that the Fast of the Ninth Month was at hand -and for this reason I have not thought it right to present myself to -the Emperor my father. Moreover, since early morning I have had a -cough and very bad headache, so you will forgive me for treating you -in this way.’</p> - -<p>‘I will give the Emperor your message. But I must tell you that last -night when you were out he sent messengers to look for you and seemed, -if I may venture to say so, to be in a very ill humour.’ Tō no Chūjō -turned to go, but pausing a moment came back to Genji’s couch and said -quietly: ‘What really happened to you last night? What you told me -just now cannot possibly be true.’ ‘You need not go into details,’ -answered Genji impatiently. ‘Simply tell him that unintentionally I -became exposed to a pollution, and apologize to him for me as best you -can.’ He spoke sharply, but in his heart there was only an unspeakable -sadness; and he was very tired.</p> - -<p>All day he lay hidden from sight. Once he sent for Tō no Chūjō’s -brother Kurōdo no Ben and gave him a formal message for the Emperor. -The same excuse would serve for the Great Hall, and he sent a similar -message there and to other houses where he might be expected.</p> - -<p>At dusk Koremitsu came. The story of Genji’s pollution had turned all -visitors from the door, and Koremitsu found his palace utterly -deserted. ‘What happened?’ said Genji, summoning him, ‘you are sure -that she is dead?’ and holding his sleeve before his face he wept. -‘All is over; <span class="pagenum"><i>{121}</i></span> of that there is no doubt,’ said Koremitsu, also in -tears; ‘and since it is not possible for them to keep the body long, I -have arranged with a very respectable aged priest who is my friend -that the ceremony shall take place to-morrow, since to-morrow chances -to be a good calendar day.’ ‘And what of her gentlewoman?’ asked -Genji. ‘I fear she will not live,’ said Koremitsu. ‘She cries out that -she must follow her mistress and this morning, had I not held her, she -would have cast herself from a high rock. She threatened to tell the -servants at my lady’s house, but I prevailed upon her to think the -matter over quietly before she did this.’ ‘Poor thing,’ said Genji, -‘small wonder that she should be thus distracted. I too am feeling -strangely disordered and do not know what will become of me.’ ‘Torment -yourself no more,’ said Koremitsu. ‘All things happen as they must. -Here is one who will handle this matter very prudently for you, and -none shall be the wiser.’ ‘Happen as they must. You are right’ said -Genji ‘and so I try to persuade myself. But in the pursuit of one’s -own wanton pleasures to have done harm and to have caused someone’s -death—that is a hideous crime; a terrible load of sin to bear with me -through the world. Do not tell even your sister; much less your mother -the nun, for I am ashamed that she should even know I have ever done -that kind of thing.’<a id="FNanchor_IV_15" href="#Footnote_IV_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> ‘Do not fear’ answered Koremitsu. ‘Even to -the priests, who must to a certain extent be let into the secret, I -have told a long made-up tale’ and Genji felt a little easier in his -mind.</p> - -<p>The waiting-women of his palace were sorely puzzled; ‘First he says he -has been defiled and cannot go to Court, and now he sits whispering -and sighing.’ What could it all mean? ‘Again I beg you’ said Genji at -last ‘to see that everything is done as it should be.’ He was thinking -<span class="pagenum"><i>{122}</i></span> all the time of the elaborate Court funerals which he had -witnessed (he had, indeed, seen no others) and imagined Koremitsu -directing a complicated succession of rituals. ‘I will do what I can; -it will be no such great matter,’ he answered and turned to go. -Suddenly Genji could bear no longer the thought that he should never -see her again. ‘You will think it very foolish of me,’ he said, ‘but I -am coming with you. I shall ride on horseback.’ ‘If your heart is set -upon it,’ said Koremitsu, ‘it is not for me to reason with you. Let us -start soon, so that we may be back before the night is over.’ So -putting on the hunting-dress and other garments in which he had -disguised himself before, he left his room.</p> - -<p>Already the most hideous anguish possessed him, and now, as he set out -upon this strange journey, to the dark thoughts that filled his mind -was added a dread lest his visit might rouse to some fresh fury the -mysterious power which had destroyed her. Should he go? He hesitated; -but though he knew that this way lay no cure for his sadness, yet if -he did not see her now, never again perhaps in any life to come would -he meet the face and form that he had loved so well. So with Koremitsu -and the one same groom to bear him company he set out upon the road.</p> - -<p>The way seemed endless. The moon of the seventeenth night had risen -and lit up the whole space of the Kamo plain, and in the light of the -outrunners’ torches the countryside towards Toribeno now came dimly -into sight. But Genji in his sickness and despair saw none of this, -and suddenly waking from the stupor into which he had fallen found -that they had arrived.</p> - -<p>The nun’s cell was in a chapel built against the wall of a wooden -house. It was a desolate spot, but the chapel itself was very -beautiful. The light of the visitors’ torches flickered through the -open door. In the inner room there <span class="pagenum"><i>{123}</i></span> was no sound but that of a -woman weeping by herself; in the outer room were several priests -talking together (or was it praying?) in hushed voices. In the -neighbouring temples vespers were over and there was absolute -stillness; only towards the Kiyomizu were lights visible and many -figures seemed to throng the hill-side.<a id="FNanchor_IV_16" href="#Footnote_IV_16" class="fnanchor">16</a></p> - -<p>A senior priest, son of the aged nun, now began to recite the -Scriptures in an impressive voice, and Genji as he listened felt the -tears come into his eyes. He went in. Ukon was lying behind a screen; -when she heard him enter, she turned the lamp to the wall. What -terrible thing was she trying to hide from him? But when he came -nearer he saw to his joy that the dead lady was not changed in any way -whatsoever, but lay there very calm and beautiful; and feeling no -horror or fear at all he took her hand and said, ‘Speak to me once -again; tell me why for so short a while you came to me and filled my -heart with gladness, and then so soon forsook me, who loved you so -well?’ and he wept long and bitterly by her side.</p> - -<p>The priests did not know who he was, but they were touched by his -evident misery and themselves shed tears. He asked Ukon to come back -with him, but she answered: ‘I have served this lady since she was a -little child and never once for so much as an hour have I left her. -How can I suddenly part from one who was so dear to me and serve in -another’s house? And I must now go and tell her people what has become -of her; for (such is the manner of her death) if I do not speak soon, -there will be an outcry that it was I who was to blame, and that would -be a terrible thing for me, Sir,’ and she burst into tears, wailing ‘I -will lie with her upon the pyre; my smoke shall mingle with hers!’</p> - -<p>‘Poor soul’ said Genji, ‘I do not wonder at your despair. <span class="pagenum"><i>{124}</i></span> But -this is the way of the world. Late or soon we must all go where she -has gone. Take comfort and trust in me.’ So he sought to console her, -but in a moment he added: ‘Those, I know, are but hollow words. I too -care no longer for life and would gladly follow her.’ So he spoke, -giving her in the end but little comfort.</p> - -<p>‘The night is far spent’ said Koremitsu; ‘we must now be on our way.’ -And so with many backward looks and a heart full to bursting he left -the house. A heavy dew had fallen and the mist was so thick that it -was hard to see the road. On the way it occurred to him that she was -still wearing his scarlet cloak, which he had lent her when they lay -down together on the last evening. How closely their lives had been -entwined!</p> - -<p>Noting that he sat very unsteadily in his saddle, Koremitsu walked -beside him and gave him a hand. But when they came to a dyke, he lost -hold and his master fell to the ground. Here he lay in great pain and -bewilderment. ‘I shall not live to finish the journey’ he said; ‘I -have not strength to go so far.’ Koremitsu too was sorely troubled, -for he felt that despite all Genji’s insistence, he ought never to -have allowed him, fever-stricken as he was, to embark upon this -disastrous journey. In great agitation he plunged his hands in the -river and prayed to Our Lady Kwannon of Kiyomizu. Genji too roused -himself at last and forced himself to pray inwardly to the Buddha. And -so they managed to start upon their journey again and in the end with -Koremitsu’s help he reached his palace.</p> - -<p>This sudden journey undertaken so late at night had seemed to all his -household the height of imprudence. They had noted for some while past -his nightly wanderings grow more and more frequent; but though often -agitated and pre-occupied, never had he returned so haggard as that -morning. What could be the object of these continual <span class="pagenum"><i>{125}</i></span> excursions? -And they shook their heads in great concern. Genji flung himself upon -his bed and lay there in fever and pain for several days. He was -growing very weak. The news was brought to the Emperor who was greatly -distressed and ordered continual prayers to be said for him in all the -great temples; and indeed there were more special services and -purification-ceremonies and incantations than I have room to rehearse. -When it became known that this prince so famous for his great charm -and beauty, was likely soon to die, there was a great stir in all the -kingdom.</p> - -<p>Sick though he was he did not forget to send for Ukon and have her -enrolled among his gentlewomen. Koremitsu, who was beside himself with -anxiety concerning his master, yet managed on her arrival to calm -himself and give to Ukon friendly instruction in her new duties; for -he was touched by the helpless plight in which she had been left. And -Genji, whenever he felt a little better, would use her to carry -messages and letters, so that she soon grew used to waiting upon him. -She was dressed in deep black and though not at all handsome was a -pleasant enough looking woman.</p> - -<p>‘It seems that the same fate which so early stayed your lady’s course -has willed that I too should be but little longer for this world. I -know in what sore distress you are left by the loss of one who was for -so many years your mistress and friend; and it was my purpose to have -comforted you in your bereavement by every care and kindness I could -devise. For this reason, indeed, it grieves me that I shall survive -her for so short a time.’ So, somewhat stiltedly, he whispered to -Ukon, and being now very weak he could not refrain from tears. Apart -from the fact that his death would leave her utterly without resource, -she had now quite taken to him and would have been very sorry indeed -if he had died.</p> - -<p>His gentlemen ran hither and thither, distracted; the Emperor’s envoys -thronged thick as the feet of the <span class="pagenum"><i>{126}</i></span> raindrops. Hearing of his -father’s distress and anxiety, Genji strove hard to reassure him by -pretending to some slight respite or improvement. His father-in-law -too showed great concern, calling every day for news and ordering the -performance of various rites and potent liturgies; and it was perhaps -as a result of this, that having been dangerously ill for more than -twenty days, he took a turn for the better, and soon all his symptoms -began to disappear. On the night of his recovery the term of his -defilement also ended and hearing that the Emperor was still extremely -uneasy about him, he determined to reassure the Court by returning to -his official residence at the Palace. His father-in-law came to fetch -him in his own carriage and rather irritatingly urged upon him all -sorts of remedies and precautions.</p> - -<p>For some while everything in the world to which he had now returned -seemed strange to him and he indeed scarce knew himself; but by the -twentieth day of the ninth month his recovery was complete, nor did -the pallor and thinness of his face become him by any means ill.</p> - -<p>At times he would stare vacantly before him and burst into loud -weeping, and seeing this there were not wanting those who said that he -was surely possessed.</p> - -<p>Often he would send for Ukon, and once when they had been talking in -the still of the evening he said to her ‘There is one thing which -still puzzles me. Why would she never tell me who she was? For even if -she was indeed, as she once said, “a fisherman’s child,” it was a -strange perversity to use such reticence with one who loved her so -well.’</p> - -<p>‘You ask why she hid her name from you?’ said Ukon. ‘Can you wonder at -it? When could she have been expected to tell you her name (not that -it would have meant much to you if you had heard it)? For from the -beginning you treated her with a strange mistrust, coming with such -secrecy and mystery as might well make her doubt whether <span class="pagenum"><i>{127}</i></span> you were -indeed a creature of the waking world. But though you never told her -she knew well enough who you were, and the thought that you would not -be thus secret had you regarded her as more than a mere plaything or -idle distraction was very painful to her.’</p> - -<p>‘What a wretched series of misunderstandings’ said Genji. ‘For my part -I had no mind to put a distance between us. But I had no experience in -such affairs as this. There are many difficulties in the path of such -people as I. First and foremost I feared the anger of my father the -Emperor; and then, the foolish jesting of the world. I felt myself -hedged in by courtly rules and restrictions. But for all the tiresome -concealments that my rank forced upon me, from that first evening I -had so strangely set my heart upon her that though reason counselled -me I could not hold back; and indeed it seems sometimes to me that an -irresistible fate drove me to do the thing of which I now so bitterly -and continually repent. But tell me more about her. For there can now -be no reason for concealment. When on each seventh day I cause the -names of the Buddhas to be written for her comfort and salvation, whom -am I to name in my inward prayer?’</p> - -<p>‘There can be no harm in my telling you that’ said Ukon, ‘and I should -have done so before, did I not somehow feel it a shame to be prating -to you now about things she would not have me speak of while she was -alive. Her parents died when she was quite small. Her father, Sammi -Chūjō, loved her very dearly, but felt always that he could not give -her all the advantages to which her great beauty entitled her; and -still perplexed about her future and how best to do his duty by her, -he died. Soon afterwards some accident brought her into the company of -Tō no Chūjō<a id="FNanchor_IV_17" href="#Footnote_IV_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> who was at that time still a lieutenant and for three -years <span class="pagenum"><i>{128}</i></span> he made her very happy. But in the autumn of last year -disquieting letters began to arrive from the Great Hall of the -Right,<a id="FNanchor_IV_18" href="#Footnote_IV_18" class="fnanchor">18</a> and being by nature prone to fits of unreasoning fear she -now fell into a wild panic and fled to the western part of the town -where she hid herself in the house of her old wet-nurse. Here she was -very uncomfortable, and had planned to move to a certain village in -the hills, when she discovered that it would be unlucky, owing to the -position of the stars since the beginning of the year, to make a -journey in that direction; and (though she never told me so) I think, -Sir, it troubled her sorely that you should have come upon her when -she was living in so wretched a place. But there was never anyone in -the world like my lady for keeping things to herself; she could never -bear that other people should know what was on her mind. I have no -doubt, Sir, that she sometimes behaved very oddly to you and that you -have seen all this for yourself.’</p> - -<p>Yes, this was all just as Tō no Chūjō had described. ‘I think there -was some mention of a child that Chūjō was vexed to have lost sight -of’ said Genji more interested than ever; ‘am I right?’ ‘Yes, indeed,’ -she answered ‘it was born in the spring of last year, a girl, and a -fine child it was.’ ‘Where is it now?’ asked Genji. ‘Could you get -hold of it and bring it to me here without letting anyone know where -you were taking it? It would be a great comfort to me in my present -misery to have some remembrance of her near me;’ and he added, ‘I -ought of course to tell Chūjō, but that would lead to useless and -painful discussions about what has happened. Somehow or other I will -manage to bring her up here in my palace. I think there can be no harm -in that. And you will easily enough find some story to tell to -whatever people are now looking after her.’ ‘I am <span class="pagenum"><i>{129}</i></span> very glad that -this has entered your head,’ said Ukon, ‘it would be a poor look-out -for her to grow up in the quarter where she is now living. With no one -properly belonging to her and in such a part of the town....’</p> - -<p>In the stillness of the evening, under a sky of exquisite beauty, here -and there along the borders in front of his palace some insect croaked -its song; the leaves were just beginning to turn. And as he looked -upon this pleasant picture he felt ashamed at the contrast between his -surroundings and the little house where Yūgao had lived. Suddenly -somewhere among the bamboo groves the bird called iyebato uttered its -sharp note. He remembered just how she had looked when in the gardens -of that fatal house the same bird had startled her by its cry, and -turning to Ukon, ‘How old was she?’ he suddenly asked; ‘for though she -seemed childlike in her diffidence and helplessness, that may only -have been a sign that she was not long for this world.’ ‘She must have -been nineteen’ said Ukon. ‘When my mother, who was her first -wet-nurse, died and left me an orphan, my lady’s father was pleased to -notice me and reared me at my lady’s side. Ah Sir, when I think of it, -I do not know how I shall live without her; for kind as people here -may be I do not seem to get used to them. I suppose it is that I knew -her ways, poor lady, she having been my mistress for so many years.’</p> - -<p>To Genji even the din of the cloth-beaters’ mallets had become dear -through recollection, and as he lay in bed he repeated those verses of -Po Chü-i.</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza small_92"> - <div class="i0"><i>In the eighth month and ninth month when the nights are growing long</i></div> - <div class="i0"><i>A thousand times, ten thousand times the fuller’s stick beats.</i></div> - </div><!--end stanza--> - </div><!--end poem--> -</div><!--end container--> - -<p>The young brother still waited upon him, but he no longer brought with -him the letters which he had been used to bring. Utsusemi thought he -had at last decided that her treatment of him was too unfriendly to be -borne, and <span class="pagenum"><i>{130}</i></span> was vexed that he should feel so. Then suddenly she -heard of his illness, and all her vexation turned to consternation and -anxiety. She was soon to set out upon her long journey, but this did -not much interest her; and to see whether Genji had quite forgotten -her she sent him a message saying that she had been able to find no -words in which to express her grief at hearing the news of his -illness. With it she sent the poem: ‘I did not ask for news and you -did not ask why I was silent; so the days wore on and I remained in -sorrow and dismay.’ He had not forgotten her, no, not in all his -trouble; and his answer came: ‘Of this life, fragile as the -utsusemi’s<a id="FNanchor_IV_19" href="#Footnote_IV_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> shell, already I was weary, when your word came, and -gave me strength to live anew.’ The poem was written in a very -tremulous and confused hand; but she thought the writing very -beautiful and it delighted her that he had not forgotten how, -cicada-like, she had shed her scarf. There could be -<a id="no"></a><ins title="Original has ‘on’.">no</ins> harm in this -interchange of notes, but she had no intention of arranging a meeting. -She thought that at last even he had seen that there could be no sense -in that.</p> - -<p>As for Utsusemi’s companion, she was not yet married, and Genji heard -that she had become the mistress of Tō no Chūjō’s brother Kurōdo no -Shōshō; and though he feared that Shōshō might already have taken very -ill the discovery that he was not first in the field, and did not at -all wish to offend him, yet he had a certain curiosity about the girl -and sent Utsusemi’s little brother with a message asking if she had -heard of his illness and the poem: ‘Had I not once gathered for my -pillow a handful of the sedge that grows upon the eaves,<a id="FNanchor_IV_20" href="#Footnote_IV_20" class="fnanchor">20</a> not a -dewdrop of pretext could my present message find.’ It was an acrostic -with many hidden meanings. He tied the letter to a tall reed <span class="pagenum"><i>{131}</i></span> and -bade him deliver it secretly; but was afterwards very uneasy at the -thought that it might go astray. ‘If it falls into Shōshō’s hands’ he -thought ‘he will at once guess that it was I who was before him.’ But -after all Shōshō would probably not take that so very hard, Genji had -vanity enough to think.</p> - -<p>The boy delivered the message when Shōshō was at a safe distance. She -could not help feeling a little hurt; but it was something that he had -remembered her at all, and justifying it to herself with the excuse -that she had had no time to do anything better, she sent the boy -straight back with the verse: ‘The faint wind of your favour, that but -for a moment blew, with grief has part befrosted the small sedge of -the eaves.’ It was very ill-written, with all sorts of ornamental but -misleading strokes and flourishes; indeed with a complete lack of -style. However, it served to remind him of the face he had first seen -that evening by the lamplight. As for the other who on that occasion -had sat so stiffly facing her, what determination there had been in -her face, what a steady resolution to give no quarter!</p> - -<p>The affair with the lady of the sedge was so unintentional and so -insignificant that though he regarded it as rather frivolous and -indiscreet, he saw no great harm in it. But if he did not take himself -in hand before it was too late he would soon again be involved in some -entanglement which might finally ruin his reputation.</p> - -<p>On the forty-ninth day after Yūgao’s death a service in her memory was -by his orders secretly held in the Hokedō on Mount Hiyei. The ritual -performed was of the most elaborate kind, everything that was required -being supplied from the Prince’s own store; and even the decoration of -the service books and images was carried out with the utmost -attention. Koremitsu’s brother, a man of great piety, <span class="pagenum"><i>{132}</i></span> was -entrusted with the direction of the ceremony, and all went well. Next -Genji sent for his old writing-master, a doctor of letters for whom he -had a great liking and bade him write the prayer for the dead.<a id="FNanchor_IV_21" href="#Footnote_IV_21" class="fnanchor">21</a> -‘Say that I commit to Amida the Buddha one not named whom I loved, but -lost disastrously,’ and he wrote out a rough draft for the learned man -to amend. ‘There is nothing to add or alter,’ said the master, deeply -moved. Who could it be, he wondered, at whose death the prince was so -distressed? (For Genji, try as he might, could not hide his tears.)</p> - -<p>When he was secretly looking through his store for largesse to give to -the Hokedō priests, he came upon a certain dress and as he folded it -made the poem: ‘The girdle that to-day with tears I knot, shall we -ever in some new life untie?’</p> - -<p>Till now her spirit had wandered in the void.<a id="FNanchor_IV_22" href="#Footnote_IV_22" class="fnanchor">22</a></p> - -<p>But already she must be setting out on her new life-path, and in great -solicitude, he prayed continually for her safety.</p> - -<p>He met Tō no Chūjō and his heart beat violently, for he had longed to -tell him about Yūgao’s child and how it was to be reared. But he -feared that the rest of the story would needlessly anger and distress -him, and he did not mention the matter. Meanwhile the servants of -Yūgao’s house were surprised that they had had no news from her nor -even from Ukon, and had begun to be seriously disquieted. They had -still no proof that it was Genji who was her lover, but several of -them thought that they had recognized him and his name was whispered -among them. They would have it that Koremitsu knew the secret, but he -pretended to know nothing whatever about Yūgao’s lover and found a -<span class="pagenum"><i>{133}</i></span> way to put off all their questions; and as he was still frequenting -the house for his own purposes, it was easy for them to believe that -he was not really concerned in their mistress’s affairs. Perhaps after -all it was some blackguard of a Zuryō’s son who, frightened of Tō no -Chūjō’s interference, had carried her off to his province. The real -owner of the house was a daughter of Yūgao’s second wet-nurse, who had -three children of her own. Ukon had been brought up with them, but -they thought that it was perhaps because she was not their own sister -that Ukon sent them no news of their mistress, and they were in great -distress.</p> - -<p>Ukon who knew that they would assail her with questions which her -promise to Genji forbade her to answer, dared not go to the house, not -even to get news of her lady’s child. It had been put out somewhere to -nurse, but to her great sorrow she had quite lost sight of it.</p> - -<p>Longing all the while to see her face once more though only in a -dream, upon the night after the ceremony on Mount Hiyei, he had a -vision very different from that for which he prayed. There appeared to -him once more, just as on that fatal night, the figure of a woman in -menacing posture, and he was dismayed at the thought that some demon -which haunted the desolate spot might on the occasion when it did that -terrible thing, also have entered into him and possessed him.</p> - -<p>Iyo no Suke was to start early in the Godless Month and had announced -that his wife would go with him. Genji sent very handsome parting -presents and among them with special intent he put many very exquisite -combs and fans. With them were silk strips to offer to the God of -Journeys and, above all, the scarf which she had dropped, and, tied to -it, a poem in which he said that he had kept it in remembrance of her -while there was still hope of their meeting, but now returned it wet -with tears shed in vain. There was <span class="pagenum"><i>{134}</i></span> a long letter with the poem, -but this was of no particular interest and is here omitted. She sent -no answer by the man who had brought the presents, but gave her -brother the poem: ‘That to the changed cicada you should return her -summer dress shows that you too have changed and fills an insect heart -with woe.’</p> - -<p>He thought long about her. Though she had with so strange and -inexplicable a resolution steeled her heart against him to the end, -yet each time he remembered that she had gone forever it filled him -with depression.</p> - -<p>It was the first day of the tenth month, and as though in sign that -winter had indeed begun heavy rain fell. All day long Genji watched -the stormy sky. Autumn had hideously bereaved him and winter already -was taking from him one whom he dearly loved:</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza small_92"> - <div class="i0">Now like a traveller who has tried two ways in vain</div> - <div class="i0">I stand perplexed where these sad seasons meet.</div> - </div><!--end stanza--> - </div><!--end poem--> -</div><!--end container--> - -<p>Now at least we must suppose he was convinced that such secret -adventures led only to misery.</p> - -<p>I should indeed be very loth to recount in all their detail matters -which he took so much trouble to conceal, did I not know that if you -found I had omitted anything you would at once ask why, just because -he was supposed to be an Emperor’s son, I must needs put a favourable -showing on his conduct by leaving out all his indiscretions; and you -would soon be saying that this was no history but a mere made-up tale -designed to influence the judgment of posterity. As it is I shall be -called a scandal-monger; but that I cannot help.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_1" href="#FNanchor_IV_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> Lady Rokujō. Who she was gradually becomes apparent in the course -of the story. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_2" href="#FNanchor_IV_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> Lady Rokujō’s house. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_3" href="#FNanchor_IV_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> Rokujō. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_4" href="#FNanchor_IV_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> Genji was now seventeen; Rokujō twenty-four. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_5" href="#FNanchor_IV_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> The god of bridges. He built in a single night the stone causeway -which joins Mount Katsuragi and Mount Kombu<a id="Period_1"></a><ins title="Original has no closing period.">.</ins> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_6" href="#FNanchor_IV_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> Genji’s brother-in-law. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_7" href="#FNanchor_IV_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> His own palace. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_8" href="#FNanchor_IV_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> Foxes, dressed up as men, were believed to be in the habit of -seducing and bewitching human beings. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_9" href="#FNanchor_IV_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> We gather later that she was only nineteen. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_10" href="#FNanchor_IV_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> I.e. covered part of his face with a scarf or the like, a -practice usual with illicit lovers in mediæval Japan. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_11" href="#FNanchor_IV_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> <cite>Shin Kokinshū</cite>, 1701. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_12" href="#FNanchor_IV_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> Lady Rokujō. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_13" href="#FNanchor_IV_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> To summon a servant. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_14" href="#FNanchor_IV_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> The bringing of a corpse. Temples were used as mortuaries. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_15" href="#FNanchor_IV_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> I.e. pursued illicit amours. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_16" href="#FNanchor_IV_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> Pilgrimages to Kiyomizu Temple are made on the seventeenth day. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_17" href="#FNanchor_IV_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> Chūjō means ‘Captain’; see above, p. <a href="#Page_71">71</a>. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_18" href="#FNanchor_IV_18" class="fnanchor">18</a> From Tō no Chūjō’s wife, who was the daughter of the Minister of -the Right. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_19" href="#FNanchor_IV_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> Cicada. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_20" href="#FNanchor_IV_20" class="fnanchor">20</a> ‘Sedge upon the eaves ‘is <i>Nokiba no Ogi</i>, and it is by this name -that the lady is generally known. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_21" href="#FNanchor_IV_21" class="fnanchor">21</a> <cite>Gwammon</cite>. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IV_22" href="#FNanchor_IV_22" class="fnanchor">22</a> For forty-nine days the spirit of the dead leads the intermediate -existence so strangely described in the <cite>Abhidharma Kośa Śāstra</cite>; then -it begins its new incarnation. -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_135"><i>{135}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br /> -<span class="larger">MURASAKI</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">HE fell sick of an ague, and when numerous charms and spells had been -tried in vain, the illness many times returning, someone said that in -a certain temple on the Northern Hills there lived a wise and holy man -who in the summer of the year before (the ague was then rife and the -usual spells were giving no relief) was able to work many signal -cures: ‘Lose no time in consulting him, for while you try one useless -means after another the disease gains greater hold upon you.’ At once -he sent a messenger to fetch the holy man, who however replied that -the infirmities of old age no longer permitted him to go abroad. ‘What -is to be done?’ said Genji; ‘I must go secretly to visit him’; and -taking only four or five trusted servants he set out long before dawn. -The place lay somewhat deep into the hills. It was the last day of the -third month and in the Capital the blossoms had all fallen. The -hill-cherry was not yet out; but as he approached the open country, -the mists began to assume strange and lovely forms, which pleased him -the more because, being one whose movements were tethered by many -proprieties, he had seldom seen such sights before. The temples too -delighted him. The holy man lived in a deep cave hollowed out of a -high wall of rock. Genji did not send in his name and was in close -disguise, but his face was well known and the priest at once -recognized him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{136}</i></span></p> - -<p>‘Forgive me’ he said; ‘it was you, was it not, who sent for me the -other day? Alas, I think no longer of the things of this world and I -am afraid I have forgotten how to work my cures. I am very sorry -indeed that you have come so far,’ and pretending to be very much -upset, he looked at Genji, laughing. But it was soon apparent that he -was a man of very great piety and learning. He wrote out certain -talismans and administered them, and read certain spells. By the time -this was over, the sun had risen, and Genji went a little way outside -the cave and looked around him. From the high ground where he was -standing he looked down on a number of scattered hermitages. A winding -track led down to a hut which, though it was hedged with the same -small brushwood as the rest, was more spaciously planned, having a -pleasant roofed alley running out from it, and there were trim copses -set around. He asked whose house it was and was told by one of his men -that a certain abbot had been living there in retirement for two -years. ‘I know him well’ said Genji on hearing the abbot’s name; ‘I -should not like to meet him dressed and attended as I am. I hope he -will not hear....’ Just then a party of nicely dressed children came -out of the house and began to pluck such flowers as are used for the -decoration of altars and holy images. ‘There are some girls with them’ -said one of Genji’s men. ‘We cannot suppose that His Reverence keeps -them. Who then can they be?’ and to satisfy his curiosity he went a -little way down the hill and watched them. ‘Yes, there are some very -pretty girls, some of them grown up and others quite children,’ he -came back and reported.</p> - -<p>During a great part of the morning Genji was busy with his cure. When -at last the ceremony was completed his attendants, dreading the hour -at which the fever usually <span class="pagenum"><i>{137}</i></span> returned, strove to distract his -attention by taking him a little way across the mountain to a point -from which the Capital could be seen. ‘How lovely’ cried Genji ‘are -those distances half lost in haze, and that -<a id="blur"></a><ins title="Original has ‘blurr’.">blur</ins> -of shimmering woods -that stretches out on every side. How could anyone be unhappy for a -single instant who lived in such a place?’ ‘This is nothing,’ said one -of his men. ‘If I could but show you the lakes and mountains of other -provinces, you would soon see how far they excel all that you here -admire’; and he began to tell him first of Mount Fuji and many another -famous peak, and then of the West Country with all its pleasant bays -and shores, till he quite forgot that it was the hour of his fever. -‘Yonder, nearest to us’ the man continued, pointing to the sea ‘is the -bay of Akashi in Harima. Note it well; for though it is not a very -out-of-the-way place, yet the feeling one has there of being shut off -from everything save one huge waste of sea makes it the strangest and -most desolate spot I know. And there it is that the daughter of a lay -priest who was once governor of the province presides over a mansion -of quite disproportionate and unexpected magnificence. He is the -descendant of a Prime Minister and was expected to cut a great figure -in the world. But he is a man of very singular disposition and is -averse to all society. For a time he was an officer in the Palace -Guard, but he gave this up and accepted the province of Harima. -However he soon quarrelled with the local people and, announcing that -he had been badly treated and was going back to the Capital, he did -nothing of the sort, but shaved his head and became a lay priest. Then -instead of settling, as is usually done, on some secluded hillside, he -built himself a house on the seashore, which may seem to you a very -strange thing to do; but as a matter of fact, whereas in that province -in one place or another a good many recluses <span class="pagenum"><i>{138}</i></span> have taken up their -abode, the mountain-country is far more dull and lonely and would -sorely have tried the patience of his young wife and child; and so as -a compromise he chose the seashore. Once when I was travelling in the -province of Harima I took occasion to visit his house and noted that, -though at the Capital he had lived in a very modest style, here he had -built on the most magnificent and lavish scale; as though determined -in spite of what had happened (now that he was free from the bother of -governing the province) to spend the rest of his days in the greatest -comfort imaginable. But all the while he was making great preparations -for the life to come and no ordained priest could have led a more -austere and pious life.’</p> - -<p>‘But you spoke of his daughter?’ said Genji. ‘She is passably -good-looking,’ he answered, ‘and not by any means stupid. Several -governors and officers of the province have set their hearts upon her -and pressed their suit most urgently; but her father has sent them all -away. It seems that though in his own person so indifferent to worldly -glory, he is determined that this one child, his only object of care, -should make amends for his obscurity, and has sworn that if ever she -chooses against his will, and when he is gone flouts his set purpose -and injunction to satisfy some idle fancy of her own, his ghost will -rise and call upon the sea to cover her.’</p> - -<p>Genji listened with great attention. ‘Why, she is like the vestal -virgin who may know no husband but the King-Dragon of the Sea,’ and -they laughed at the old ex-Governor’s absurd ambitions. The teller of -the story was a son of the present Governor of Harima, who from being -a clerk in the Treasury had last year been capped an officer of the -Fifth Rank. He was famous for his love-adventures and the others -whispered to one another that it was with every <span class="pagenum"><i>{139}</i></span> intention of -persuading the lady to disobey her father’s injunctions that he had -gone out of his way to visit the shore of Akashi.</p> - -<p>‘I fear her breeding must be somewhat countrified,’ said one; ‘it -cannot well be otherwise, seeing that she has grown up with no other -company than that of her old-fashioned parents,—though indeed it -appears that her mother was a person of some consequence.’ ‘Why, yes’ -said Yoshikiyo, the Governor’s son, ‘and for this reason she was able -to secure little girls and boys from all the best houses in the -Capital, persuading them to pay visits to the sea-side and be -playmates to her own little girl, who thus acquired the most polished -breeding.’ ‘If an unscrupulous person were to find himself in that -quarter,’ said another, ‘I fear that despite the dead father’s curse -he might not find it easy to resist her.’</p> - -<p>The story made a deep impression upon Genji’s imagination. As his -gentlemen well knew, whatever was fantastic or grotesque both in -people and situations at once strongly attracted him. They were -therefore not surprised to see him listen with so much attention. ‘It -is now well past noon,’ said one of them, ‘and I think we may reckon -that you will get safely through the day without a return of your -complaint. So let us soon be starting for home.’ But the priest -persuaded him to stay a little longer: ‘The sinister influences are -not yet wholly banished,’ he said; ‘it would be well that a further -ritual should continue quietly during the night. By to-morrow morning, -I think you will be able to proceed.’ His gentlemen all urged him to -stay; nor was he at all unwilling, for the novelty of such a lodging -amused him. ‘Very well then, at dawn’ he said, and having nothing to -do till bed-time which was still a long way off, he went out on to the -hill-side, and under cover of the heavy evening mist loitered near the -brushwood <span class="pagenum"><i>{140}</i></span> hedge. His attendants had gone back to the hermit’s -cave and only Koremitsu was with him. In the western wing, opposite -which he was standing, was a nun at her devotions. The blind was -partly raised. He thought she seemed to be dedicating flowers to an -image. Sitting near the middle pillar, a sutra-book propped upon a -stool by her side, was another nun. She was reading aloud; there was a -look of great unhappiness in her face. She seemed to be about forty; -not a woman of the common people. Her skin was white and very fine, -and though she was much emaciated, there was a certain roundness and -fulness in her cheeks, and her hair, clipped short on a level with her -eyes, hung in so delicate a fringe across her brow that she looked, -thought Genji, more elegant and even fashionable in this convent -guise, than if her hair had been long. Two very well-conditioned maids -waited upon her. Several little girls came running in and out of the -room at play. Among them was one who seemed to be about ten years old. -She came running into the room dressed in a rather worn white frock -lined with stuff of a deep saffron colour. Never had he seen a child -like this. What an astonishing creature she would grow into! Her hair, -thick and wavy, stood out fan-wise about her head. She was very -flushed and her lips were trembling. ‘What is it? Have you quarrelled -with one of the other little girls?’ The nun raised her head as she -spoke and Genji fancied that there was some resemblance between her -and the child. No doubt she was its mother. ‘Inu has let out my -sparrow—the little one that I kept in the clothes-basket,’ she said, -looking very unhappy. ‘What a tiresome boy that Inu is!’ said one of -the two maids. ‘He deserves a good scolding for playing such a stupid -trick. Where can it have got to? And this after we had taken so much -trouble to tame it nicely! I only hope the crows have not found <span class="pagenum"><i>{141}</i></span> -it,’ and so saying she left the room. She was a pleasant-looking -woman, with very long, wavy hair. The others called her Nurse -Shōnagon, and she seemed to be in charge of the child. ‘Come,’ said -the nun to the little girl, ‘you must not be such a baby. You are -thinking all the time of things that do not matter at all. Just fancy! -Even now when I am so ill that any day I may be taken from you, you do -not trouble your head about me, but are grieving about a sparrow. It -is very unkind, particularly as I have told you I don’t know how many -times that it is naughty to shut up live things in cages. Come over -here!’ and the child sat down beside her. Her features were very -exquisite; but it was above all the way her hair grew, in cloudy -masses over her temples, but thrust back in childish fashion from her -forehead, that struck him as marvellously beautiful. As he watched her -and wondered what she would be like when she grew up it suddenly -occurred to him that she bore no small resemblance to one whom he had -loved with all his being,<a id="FNanchor_V_1" href="#Footnote_V_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> and at the resemblance he secretly wept.</p> - -<p>The nun, stroking the child’s hair, now said to her: ‘It’s a lovely -mop, though you <em>are</em> so naughty about having it combed. But it -worries me very much that you are still so babyish. Some children of -your age are very different. Your dear mother was only twelve when her -father died; yet she showed herself quite capable of managing her own -affairs. But if I were taken from you now, I do not know what would -become of you, I do not indeed,’ and she began to weep. Even Genji, -peeping at the scene from a distance, found himself becoming quite -distressed. The girl, who had been watching the nun’s face with a -strange unchildish intensity, now dropped her head disconsolately, and -as she did so her hair fell forward across <span class="pagenum"><i>{142}</i></span> her cheeks in two -great waves of black. Looking at her fondly the nun recited the poem: -‘Not knowing if any will come to nurture the tender leaf whereon it -lies, how loath is the dewdrop to vanish in the sunny air.’ To which -the waiting-woman replied with a sigh: ‘O dewdrop, surely you will -linger till the young budding leaf has shown in what fair form it -means to grow.’</p> - -<p>At this moment the priest to whom the house belonged entered the room -from the other side: ‘Pray, ladies,’ he said, ‘are you not unduly -exposing yourselves? You have chosen a bad day to take up your stand -so close to the window. I have just heard that Prince Genji has come -to the hermit yonder to be cured of an ague. But he has disguised -himself in so mean a habit that I did not know him, and have been so -near all day without going to pay my respects to him.’ The nun started -back in horror; ‘How distressing! He may even have passed and seen -us ...’ and she hastened to let down the folding blind. ‘I am really -very glad that I am to have an opportunity of visiting this Prince -Genji of whom one hears so much. He is said to be so handsome that even -austere old priests like myself forget in his presence the sins and -sorrows of the life they have discarded and take heart to live a little -longer in a world where so much beauty dwells. But you shall hear all -about it....’</p> - -<p>Before the old priest had time to leave the house Genji was on his way -back to the hermit’s cave. What an enchanting creature he had -discovered! How right too his friends had been on that rainy night -when they told him that on strange excursions such as this beauty -might well be found lurking in unexpected quarters! How delightful to -have strolled out by chance and at once made so astonishing a find! -Whose could this exquisite child be? He would dearly love to have her -always near him, to be able <span class="pagenum"><i>{143}</i></span> to turn to her at any moment for -comfort and distraction, as once he had turned to the lady in the -Palace.</p> - -<p>He was already lying down in the hermit’s cave when (everything being -at very close quarters) he heard the voice of the old priest’s -disciple calling for Koremitsu. ‘My master has just learnt’ said this -disciple, ‘that you were lodged so near at hand; and though it grieves -him that you did not in passing honour him with a visit, he would at -once have paid his respects to the Prince, had he not thought that -Lord Genji could not be unaware of his presence in the neighbourhood -of this hermitage, and might perhaps have refrained from visiting him -only because he did not wish to disclose the motive of his present -pilgrimage. But my master would remind you’ continued the man, ‘that -we too in our poor hut could provide you with straw beds to lie on, -and should be sorry if you left without honouring us....’</p> - -<p>‘For ten days,’ answered Genji from within, ‘I have been suffering -from an ague which returned so constantly that I was in despair, when -someone advised me to consult the hermit of this mountain, whom I -accordingly visited. But thinking that it would be very disagreeable -for a sage of his repute if in such a case as mine it became known -that his treatment had been unsuccessful, I was at greater pains to -conceal myself than I should have been if visiting an ordinary -wonder-worker. Pray ask your master to accept this excuse and bid him -enter the cave.’ Thus encouraged, the priest presented himself. Genji -was rather afraid of him, for though an ecclesiastic he was a man of -superior genius, very much respected in the secular world, and Genji -felt that it was not at all proper to receive him in the shabby old -clothes which he had used for his disguise. After giving some details -of his life since he had left the Capital and come to live in -retirement on this mountain, the priest <span class="pagenum"><i>{144}</i></span> begged Genji to come back -with him and visit the cold spring which flowed in the garden of his -hut. Here was an opportunity to see again the people who had so much -interested him. But the thought of all the stories that the old priest -might have told them about him made him feel rather uncomfortable. -What matter? At all costs he must see that lovely child again and he -followed the old priest back to his hut. In the garden the natural -vegetation of the hill-side had been turned to skilful use. There was -no moon, and torches had been lit along the sides of the moat, while -fairy lanterns hung on the trees. The front parlour was very nicely -arranged. A heavy perfume of costly and exotic scents stole from -hidden incense-burners and filled the room with a delicious fragrance. -These perfumes were quite unfamiliar to Genji and he supposed that -they must have been prepared by the ladies of the inner room, who -would seem to have spent considerable ingenuity in the task.</p> - -<p>The priest began to tell stories about the uncertainty of this life -and the retributions of the life to come. Genji was appalled to think -how heavy his own sins had already been. It was bad enough to think -that he would have them on his conscience for the rest of his present -life. But then there was also the life to come. What terrible -punishments he had to look forward to! And all the while the priest -was speaking Genji thought of his own wickedness. What a good idea it -would be to turn hermit and live in some such place.... But -immediately his thoughts strayed to the lovely face which he had seen -that afternoon and longing to know more of her ‘Who lives with you -here?’ he asked. ‘It interests me to know, because I once saw this -place in a dream and was astonished to recognize it when I came here -to-day.’ At this the priest laughed: ‘Your dream seems to have come -rather suddenly into the <span class="pagenum"><i>{145}</i></span> conversation,’ he said, ‘but I fear that -if you pursue your enquiry, your expectations will be sadly -disappointed. You have probably never heard of Azechi no Dainagon, he -died so long ago. He married my sister, who after his death turned her -back upon the world. Just at that time I myself was in certain -difficulties and was unable to visit the Capital; so for company she -came to join me here in my retreat.’</p> - -<p>‘I have heard that Aseji no Dainagon had a daughter. Is that so?’ said -Genji at a venture; ‘I am sure you will not think I ask the question -with any indiscreet intention....’ ‘He had an only daughter who died -about ten years ago. Her father had always wanted to present her at -Court. But she would not listen, and when he was dead and there was -only my sister the nun to look after her, she allowed some wretched -go-between to introduce her to Prince Hyōbukyō whose mistress she -became. His wife, a proud, relentless woman, from the first pursued -her with constant vexations and affronts; day in and day out this -obstinate persecution continued, till at last she died of heartbreak. -They say that unkindness cannot kill; but I shall never say so, for -from this cause alone I saw my kinswoman fall sick and perish.’</p> - -<p>‘Then the little girl must be this lady’s child,’ Genji realized at -last. And that accounted for her resemblance to the lady in the -Palace.<a id="FNanchor_V_2" href="#Footnote_V_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> He felt more drawn towards her than ever. She was of good -lineage, which is never amiss; and her rather rustic simplicity would -be an actual advantage when she became his pupil, as he was now -determined she should; for it would make it the easier for him to -mould her unformed tastes to the pattern of his own. ‘And did the lady -whose sad story you have told me leave no remembrance behind her?’ -asked Genji, <span class="pagenum"><i>{146}</i></span> still hoping to turn the conversation on to the -child herself. ‘She died only a short while after her child was born, -and it too was a girl. The charge of it fell to my sister who is in -failing health and feels herself by no means equal to such a -responsibility.’ All was now clear. ‘You will think it a very strange -proposal,’ said Genji, ‘but I feel that I should like to adopt this -child. Perhaps you would mention this to your sister? Though others -early involved me in marriage, their choice proved distasteful to me -and having, as it seems, very little relish for society, I now live -entirely alone. She is, I quite realize, a mere child, and I am not -proposing....’ Here he paused and the priest answered: ‘I am very much -obliged to you for this offer; but I am afraid it is clear that you do -<em>not</em> at all realize that the child in question is a mere infant. You -would not even find her amusing as a casual distraction. But it is -true that a girl as she grows up needs the backing of powerful friends -if she is to make her way in the world, and though I cannot promise -you that anything will come of it, I ought certainly to mention the -matter to her grandmother.’ His manner had suddenly become somewhat -cool and severe. Genji felt that he had been indiscreet and preserved -an embarrassed silence. ‘There is something which I ought to be doing -in the Hall of Our Lord Amida,’ the priest presently continued, ‘so I -must take leave of you for a while. I must also read my vespers; but I -will rejoin you afterwards,’ and he set out to climb the hill. Genji -felt very disconsolate. It had begun to rain; a cold wind blew across -the hill, carrying with it the sound of a waterfall,—audible till then -as a gentle intermittent plashing, but now a mighty roar; and with it, -somnolently rising and falling, mingled the monotonous chanting of the -scriptures. Even the most unimpressionable nature would have been -plunged into melancholy by such surroundings. How much the more so -Prince <span class="pagenum"><i>{147}</i></span> Genji, as he lay sleepless on his bed, continually -planning and counter-planning! The priest had spoken of ‘vespers,’ but -the hour was indeed very late. It was clear however that the nun was -still awake, for though she was making as little noise as possible, -every now and then her rosary would knock with a faint click against -the praying-stool. There was something alluring in the sound of this -low, delicate tapping. It seemed to come from quite close. He opened a -small space between the screens which divided the living-room from the -inner chamber and rustled his fan. He had the impression that someone -in the inner room after a little hesitation had come towards the -screen as though saying to herself ‘It cannot be so, yet I could have -sworn I heard ...,’ and then retreated a little, as though thinking -‘Well, it was only my fancy after all!’ Now she seemed to be feeling -her way in the dark, and Genji said aloud ‘Follow the Lord Buddha and -though your way lie in darkness yet shall you not go astray.’ Suddenly -hearing his clear young voice in the darkness, the woman had not at -first the courage to reply. But at last she managed to answer: ‘In -which direction, please, is He leading me? I am afraid I do not quite -understand.’ ‘I am sorry to have startled you,’ said Genji. ‘I have -only this small request to make: that you will carry to your mistress -the following poem: ‘Since first he saw the green leaf of the tender -bush, never for a moment has the dew of longing dried from the -traveller’s sleeve.’ ‘Surely you must know that there is no one here -who understands messages of that kind,’ said the woman; ‘I wonder whom -you mean?’ ‘I have a particular reason for wishing your mistress to -receive the message,’ said Genji, ‘and I should be obliged if you -would contrive to deliver it.’ The nun at once perceived that the poem -referred to her grandchild and supposed that Genji, having been -wrongly informed <span class="pagenum"><i>{148}</i></span> about her age, was intending to make love to -her. But how had he discovered her grand-daughter’s existence? For -some while she pondered in great annoyance and perplexity, and at last -answered prudently with a poem in which she said that ‘he who was but -spending a night upon a traveller’s dewy bed could know little of -those whose home was forever upon the cold moss of the hill-side.’ -Thus she turned his poem to a harmless meaning. ‘Tell her,’ said Genji -when the message was brought back, ‘that I am not accustomed to carry -on conversations in this indirect manner. However shy she may be, I -must ask her on this occasion to dispense with formalities and discuss -this matter with me seriously!’ ‘How can he have been thus -misinformed?’ said the nun, still thinking that Genji imagined her -grand-daughter to be a grown-up woman. She was terrified at being -suddenly commanded to appear before this illustrious personage and was -wondering what excuse she would make. Her maids, however, were -convinced that Genji would be grievously offended if she did not -appear, and at last, coming out from the women’s chamber, she said to -him: ‘Though I am no longer a young woman, I very much doubt whether I -ought to come like this. But since you sent word that you have serious -business to discuss with me, I could not refuse....’ ‘Perhaps’ said -Genji, ‘you will think my proposal both ill-timed and frivolous. I can -only assure you that I mean it very seriously. Let Buddha judge....’ -But here he broke off, intimidated by her age and gravity. ‘You have -certainly chosen a very strange manner of communicating this proposal -to me. But though you have not yet said what it is, I am sure you are -quite in earnest about it.’ Thus encouraged, Genji continued: ‘I was -deeply touched by the story of your long widowhood and of your -daughter’s death. I too, like this poor child, was deprived in earliest -<span class="pagenum"><i>{149}</i></span> infancy of the one being who tenderly loved me, and in my -childhood suffered long years of loneliness and misery. Thus we are -both in like case, and this has given me so deep a sympathy for the -child that I long to make amends for what she has lost. It was, then, -to ask if you would consent to let me play a mother’s part that at -this strange and inconvenient hour I trespassed so inconsiderately -upon your patience.’ ‘I am sure that you are meaning to be very kind,’ -said the nun, ‘but—forgive me—you have evidently been misinformed. -There is indeed a girl living here under my charge; but she is a mere -infant and could not be of the slightest interest to you in any way, -so that I cannot consent to your proposal.’ ‘On the contrary,’ said -Genji, ‘I am perfectly conversant with every detail concerning this -child; but if you think my sympathy for her exaggerated or misplaced, -pray pardon me for having mentioned it.’ It was evident that he did -not in the least realize the absurdity of what he had proposed, and -she saw no use in explaining herself any further. The priest was now -returning and Genji, saying that he had not expected she would at once -fall in with his idea and was confident that she would soon see the -matter in a different light, closed the screen behind her.</p> - -<p>The night was almost over. In a chapel near by, the Four Meditations -of the Law Flower were being practised. The voices of the ministrants -who were now chanting the Litany of Atonement came floating on the -gusty mountain-wind, and with this solemn sound was mingled the roar -of hurrying waters. ‘Startled from my dream by a wandering gust of -the mountain gale, I heard the waterfall, and at the beauty of its -music wept.’ So Genji greeted the priest; and he in turn replied with -the poem ‘At the noise of a torrent wherein I daily fill my bowl I am -scarce likely to start back in wonder and delight.’ ‘I get so used to -it,’ <span class="pagenum"><i>{150}</i></span> he added apologetically. A heavy mist covered the morning -sky, and even the chirruping of the mountain-birds sounded muffled and -dim. Such a variety of flowers and blossoming trees (he did not know -their names) grew upon the hill-side, that the rocks seemed to be -spread with a many-coloured embroidery. Above all he marvelled at the -exquisite stepping of the deer who moved across the slope, now -treading daintily, now suddenly pausing; and as he watched them the -last remnants of his sickness were dispelled by sheer delight. Though -the hermit had little use of his limbs, he managed by hook or crook to -perform the mystic motions of the Guardian Spell,<a id="FNanchor_V_3" href="#Footnote_V_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> and though his -aged voice was husky and faltering, he read the sacred text with great -dignity and fervour. Several of Genji’s friends now arrived to -congratulate him upon his recovery, among them a messenger from the -Palace. The priest from the hut below brought a present of -strange-looking roots for which he had gone deep into the ravine. He -begged to be excused from accompanying Genji on his way. ‘Till the end -of the year,’ he said, ‘I am bound by a vow which must deprive me of -what would have been a great pleasure,’ and he handed Genji the -stirrup-cup. ‘Were I but able to follow my own desires,’ said Genji -taking the cup, ‘I would not leave these hills and streams. But I hear -that my father the Emperor is making anxious enquiry after me. I will -come back before the blossom is over.’ And he recited the verse ‘I -will go back to the men of the City and tell them to <span class="pagenum"><i>{151}</i></span> come -quickly, lest the wild wind outstripping them should toss these -blossoms from the cherry bough.’ The old priest, flattered by Genji’s -politeness and captivated by the charm of his voice, answered with the -poem: ‘Like one who finds the aloe-tree in bloom, to the flower of the -mountain-cherry I no longer turn my gaze.’ ‘I am not after all quite -so great a rarity as the aloe-flower,’ said Genji smiling.</p> - -<p>Next the hermit handed him a parting-cup, with the poem ‘Though seldom -I open the pine-tree door of my mountain-cell, yet have I now seen -face to face the flower few live to see,’ and as he looked up at -Genji, his eyes filled with tears. He gave him, to keep him safe in -future from all harm, a magical wand; and seeing this the nun’s -brother in his turn presented a rosary brought back from Korea by -Prince Shōtoku. It was ornamented with jade and was still in the same -Chinese-looking box in which it had been brought from that country. -The box was in an open-work bag, and a five-leafed pine-branch was -with it. He also gave him some little vases of blue crystal to keep -his medicines in, with sprays of cherry-blossom and wistaria along -with them, and such other presents as the place could supply. Genji -had sent to the Capital for gifts with which to repay his reception in -the mountain. First he gave a reward to the hermit, then distributed -alms to the priests who had chanted liturgies on his behalf, and -finally he gave useful presents to the poor villagers of the -neighbourhood. While he was reading a short passage from the -scriptures in preparation for his departure, the old priest went into -his house and asked his sister the nun whether she had any message for -the Prince. ‘It is very hard to say anything at present,’ she said. -‘Perhaps if he still felt the same inclination four, or five years -hence, we might <span class="pagenum"><i>{152}</i></span> begin to consider it.’ ‘That is just what I -think,’ said the priest.</p> - -<p>Genji saw to his regret that he had made no progress whatever. In -answer to the nun’s message he sent a small boy who belonged to the -priest’s household with the following poem: ‘Last night indeed, though -in the greyness of twilight only, I saw the lovely flower. But to-day -a hateful mist has hidden it utterly from my sight.’ The nun replied: -‘That I may know whether indeed it pains you so deeply to leave this -flower, I shall watch intently the motions of this hazy sky.’ It was -written in a noteworthy and very aristocratic hand, but quite without -the graces of deliberate artistry. While his carriage was being got -ready, a great company of young lords arrived from the Great Hall, -saying that they had been hard put to it to discover what had become -of him and now desired to give him their escort. Among them were Tō no -Chūjō, Sachū Ben, and other lesser lords, who had come out of -affection for the Prince. ‘We like nothing better than waiting upon -you,’ they said, rather aggrieved, ‘it was not kind of you to leave us -behind.’ ‘But having come so far,’ said another, ‘it would be a pity -to go away without resting for a while under the shadow of these -flowering trees’; whereupon they all sat down in a row upon the moss -under a tall rock and passed a rough earthenware wine-jar from hand to -hand. Close by them the stream leaped over the rocks in a magnificent -cascade. Tō no Chūjō pulled out a flute from the folds of his dress -and played a few trills upon it. Sachū Ben, tapping idly with his fan, -began to sing ‘The Temple of Toyora.’ The young lords who had come to -fetch him were all persons of great distinction; but so striking was -Genji’s appearance as he sat leaning disconsolately against the rock -that no eye was likely to be turned in any other direction. One of his -attendants now performed upon the <span class="pagenum"><i>{153}</i></span> reed-pipe; someone else turned -out to be a skilful <i>shō</i><a id="FNanchor_V_4" href="#Footnote_V_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> player. Presently the old priest came out -of his house carrying a zithern, and putting it into Genji’s hands -begged him to play something, ‘that the birds of the mountain may -rejoice.’ He protested that he was not feeling at all in the mood to -play; but yielding to the priest’s persuasion, he gave what was really -not at all a contemptible performance. After that, they all got up and -started for home. Everyone on the mountain, down to the humblest -priest and youngest neophyte, was bitterly disappointed at the -shortness of his stay, and there were many tears shed; while the old -nun within doors was sorry to think that she had had but that one -brief glimpse of him and might never see him again. The priest -declared that for his part he thought the Land of the Rising Sun in -her last degenerate days ill-deserved that such a Prince should be -born to her, and he wiped his eyes. The little girl too was very much -pleased with him and said he was a prettier gentleman than her own -father. ‘If you think so, you had better become his little girl -instead,’ said her nurse. At which the child nodded, thinking that it -would be a very good plan indeed; and in future the best-dressed -person in the pictures she painted was called ‘Prince Genji’ and so -was her handsomest doll.</p> - -<p>On his return to the Capital he went straight to the Palace and -described to his father the experiences of the last two days. The -Emperor thought him looking very haggard and was much concerned. He -asked many questions about the hermit’s magical powers, to all of -which Genji replied in great detail. ‘He ought certainly to have been -made Master Magician long ago,’ said His Majesty. ‘His ministrations -have repeatedly been attended with great success, but for some reason -his services have escaped public <span class="pagenum"><i>{154}</i></span> acknowledgment,’ and he issued a -proclamation to this effect. The Minister of the Left came to meet him -on his way from the Presence and apologized for not having come with -his sons to bring him back from the mountain. ‘I thought,’ he said, -‘that as you had gone there secretly, you would dislike being fetched; -but I very much hope that you will now come and spend a few days with -us quietly; after which I shall esteem it a privilege to escort you to -your palace.’ He did not in the least want to go, but there was no -escape. His father-in-law drove him to the Great Hall in his own -carriage, and when the bullocks had been unyoked dragged it in at the -gate with his own hands. Such treatment was certainly meant to be very -friendly; but Genji found the Minister’s attentions merely irritating.</p> - -<p>Aoi’s quarters had, in anticipation of Genji’s coming, just been put -thoroughly to rights. In the long interval since he last visited her -many changes had been made; among other improvements, a handsome -terrace had been built. Not a thing was out of its right place in this -supremely well-ordered house. Aoi, as usual, was nowhere to be seen. -It was only after repeated entreaties by her father that she at last -consented to appear in her husband’s presence. Posed like a princess -in a picture she sat almost motionless. Beautiful she certainly was. -‘I should like to tell you about my visit to the mountain, if only I -thought that it would interest you at all or draw an answer from you. -I hate to go on always like this. Why are you so cold and distant and -proud? Year after year we fail to reach an understanding and you cut -yourself off from me more completely than before. Can we not manage -for a little while to be on ordinary terms? It seems rather strange, -considering how ill I have been, that you should not attempt to -enquire after my health. Or rather, it is exactly what I should -expect; but nevertheless I find it <span class="pagenum"><i>{155}</i></span> extremely painful.’ ‘Yes,’ -said Aoi, ‘it is extremely painful when people do not care what -becomes of one.’ She glanced back over her shoulder as she spoke, her -face full of scorn and pride, looking uncommonly handsome as she did -so. ‘You hardly ever speak,’ said Genji, ‘and when you do, it is only -to say unkind things and twist one’s harmless words so that they seem -to be insults. And when I try to find some way of helping you for a -while at least to be a little less disagreeable, you become more -hopelessly unapproachable than ever. Shall I one day succeed in making -you understand...?’ and so saying he went into their bedroom. She did -not follow him. He lay for a while in a state of great annoyance and -distress. But, probably because he did not really care about her very -much one way or the other, he soon became drowsy and all sorts of -quite different matters drifted through his head. He wanted as much as -ever to have the little girl in his keeping and watch her grow to -womanhood. But the grandmother was right; the child was too absurdly -young, and it would be very difficult to broach the matter again. -Would it not however be possible to contrive that she should be -brought to the Capital? It would be easy then to find excuses for -fetching her and she might, even through some such arrangement as -that, become a source of constant delight to him. The father, Prince -Hyōbukyō, was of course a man of very distinguished manners; but he -was not at all handsome. How was it that the child resembled one of -her aunts and was so unlike all the rest? He had an idea that -Fujitsubo and Prince Hyōbukyō were children of the same mother, while -the others were only half-sisters. The fact that the little girl was -closely related to the lady whom he had loved for so long made him all -the more set upon securing her, and he began again to puzzle his head -for some means of bringing this about.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{156}</i></span></p> - -<p>Next day he wrote his letter of thanks to the priest. No doubt it -contained some allusion to his project. To the nun he wrote: ‘Seeing -you so resolutely averse to what I had proposed, I refrained from -justifying my intentions so fully as I could have wished. But should -it prove that, even by the few words I ventured to speak, I was able -to convince you that this is no mere whim or common fancy, how happy -would such news make me.’ On a slip of paper folded small and tucked -into the letter he wrote the poem: ‘Though with all my heart I tried -to leave it behind me, never for a moment has it left me,—the fair -face of that mountain-flower!’ Though she had long passed the zenith -of her years the nun could not but be pleased and flattered by the -elegance of the note; for it was not only written in an exquisite -hand, but was folded with a careless dexterity which she greatly -admired. She felt very sorry for him, and would have been glad, had it -been in her conscience, to have sent him a more favourable reply. ‘We -were delighted,’ she wrote, ‘that being in the neighbourhood you took -occasion to pay us a visit. But I fear that when (as I very much hope -you will) you come here purposely to visit us, I shall not be able to -add anything to what I have said already. As for the poem which you -enclose, do not expect her to answer it, for she cannot yet write her -“Naniwa Zu”<a id="FNanchor_V_5" href="#Footnote_V_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> properly, even letter by letter. Let me then answer it -for her: “For as long as the cherry-blossoms remain unscattered upon -the shore of Onoe where wild storms blow,—so long have you till now -been constant!” For my part, I am very uneasy about the matter.’</p> - -<p>The priest replied to the same effect. Genji was very much -disappointed and after two or three days he sent for Koremitsu and -gave him a letter for the nun, telling <span class="pagenum"><i>{157}</i></span> him at the same time to -find out whatever he could from Shōnagon, the child’s nurse. ‘What an -impressionable character he is,’ thought Koremitsu. He had only had a -glimpse of the child; but that had sufficed to convince him that she -was a mere baby, though he remembered thinking her quite pretty. What -trick would his master’s heart be playing upon him next?</p> - -<p>The old priest was deeply impressed by the arrival of a letter in the -hands of so special and confidential a messenger. After delivering it, -Koremitsu sought out the nurse. He repeated all that Genji had told -him to say and added a great deal of general information about his -master. Being a man of many words he talked on and on, continually -introducing some new topic which had suddenly occurred to him as -relevant. But at the end of it all Shōnagon was just as puzzled as -everyone else had been to account for Genji’s interest in a child so -ridiculously young. His letter was very deferential. In it he said -that he longed to see a specimen of her childish writing done letter -by letter, as the nun had described. As before, he enclosed a poem: -‘Was it the shadows in the mountain well that told you my purpose was -but jest?’<a id="FNanchor_V_6" href="#Footnote_V_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> To which she answered ‘Some perhaps that have drawn in -that well now bitterly repent. Can the shadows tell me if again it -will be so?’ and Koremitsu brought a spoken message to the same -effect, together with the assurance that so soon as the nun’s health -improved, she intended to visit the Capital and would then communicate -with him again. The prospect of her visit was very exciting.</p> - -<p>About this time Lady Fujitsubo fell ill and retired for a while from -the Palace. The sight of the Emperor’s grief and anxiety moved Genji’s -pity. But he could not help thinking that this was an opportunity -which must not be <span class="pagenum"><i>{158}</i></span> missed. He spent the whole of that day in a -state of great agitation, unable whether in his own house or at the -Palace to think of anything else or call upon anyone. When at last the -day was over, he succeeded in persuading her maid Ōmyōbu to take a -message. The girl, though she regarded any communication between them -as most imprudent, seeing a strange look in his face like that of one -who walks in a dream, took pity on him and went. The Princess looked -back upon their former relationship as something wicked and horrible -and the memory of it was a continual torment to her. She had -determined that such a thing must never happen again.</p> - -<p>She met him with a stern and sorrowful countenance, but this did not -disguise her charm, and as though conscious that he was unduly -admiring her she began to treat him with great coldness and disdain. -He longed to find some blemish in her, to think that he had been -mistaken, and be at peace.</p> - -<p>I need not tell all that happened. The night passed only too quickly. -He whispered in her ear the poem: ‘Now that at last we have met, would -that we might vanish forever into the dream we dreamed to-night!’ But -she, still conscience-stricken: ‘Though I were to hide in the darkness -of eternal sleep, yet would my shame run through the world from tongue -to tongue.’ And indeed, as Genji knew, it was not without good cause -that she had suddenly fallen into this fit of apprehension and -remorse. As he left, Ōmyōbu came running after him with his cloak and -other belongings which he had left behind. He lay all day upon his bed -in great torment. He sent a letter, but it was returned unopened. This -had happened many times in the past, but now it filled him with such -consternation that for two or three days he was completely prostrate -and kept his room. All this while he was in constant <span class="pagenum"><i>{159}</i></span> dread lest -his father, full of solicitude, should begin enquiring what new -trouble had overtaken him. Fujitsubo, convinced that her ruin was -accomplished, fell into a profound melancholy and her health grew -daily worse. Messengers arrived constantly from the Court begging her -to return without delay; but she could not bring herself to go. Her -disorder had now taken a turn which filled her with secret foreboding, -and she did nothing all day long but sit distractedly wondering what -would become of her. When the hot weather set in she ceased to leave -her bed at all. Three months had now passed and there was no mistaking -her condition. Soon it would be known and everywhere discussed. She -was appalled at the calamity which had overtaken her. Not knowing that -there was any cause for secrecy, her people were astonished that she -had not long ago informed the Emperor of her condition. Speculations -were rife, but the question was one which only the Princess herself -was in a position definitely to solve. Ōmyōbu and her old nurse’s -daughter who waited upon her at her toilet and in the bath-house had -at once noted the change and were somewhat taken aback. But Ōmyōbu was -unwilling to discuss the matter. She had an uncomfortable suspicion -that it was the meeting which she arranged that had now taken effect -with cruel promptness and precision. It was announced in the Palace -that other disorders had misled those about her and prevented them -from recognizing the true nature of her condition. This explanation -was accepted by everyone.</p> - -<p>The Emperor himself was full of tender concern, and though messengers -kept him constantly informed, the gloomiest doubts and fancies passed -continually through his mind. Genji was at this time visited by a most -terrifying and extraordinary dream. He sent for interpreters, but they -could make little of it. There were indeed certain <span class="pagenum"><i>{160}</i></span> passages to -which they could assign no meaning at all; but this much was clear: -the dreamer had made a false step and must be on his guard. ‘It was -not <em>my</em> dream’ said Genji, feeling somewhat alarmed. ‘I am consulting -you on behalf of someone else,’ and he was wondering what this ‘false -step’ could have been when news reached him of the Princess’s -condition. This then was the disaster which his dream had portended! -At once he wrote her an immense letter full of passionate -self-reproaches and exhortations. But Ōmyōbu, thinking that it would -only increase her agitation, refused to deliver it, and he could trust -no other messenger. Even the few wretched lines which she had been in -the habit of sending to him now and again had for some while utterly -ceased.</p> - -<p>In her seventh month she again appeared at Court. Overjoyed at her -return, the Emperor lavished boundless affection upon her. The added -fulness of her figure, the unwonted pallor and thinness of her face -gave her, he thought, a new and incomparable charm. As before, all his -leisure was spent in her company. During this time several Court -festivals took place and Genji’s presence was constantly required; -sometimes he was called upon to play the <i>koto</i> or flute, sometimes to -serve his father in other ways. On such occasions, strive as he might -to show no trace of embarrassment or agitation, he feared more than -once that he had betrayed himself; while to her such confrontations -were one long torment.</p> - -<p>The nun had somewhat improved in health and was now living in the -Capital. He had enquired where she was lodging and sent messages from -time to time, receiving (which indeed was all he expected) as little -encouragement as before. In the last months his longing for the child -had increased rather than diminished, but day after day went by -without his finding any means to change the <span class="pagenum"><i>{161}</i></span> situation. As the -autumn drew to its close, he fell into a state of great despondency. -One fine moonlit night when he had decided, against his own -inclination, to pay a certain secret visit,<a id="FNanchor_V_7" href="#Footnote_V_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> a shower came on. As he -had started from the Palace and the place to which he was going was in -the suburbs of the Sixth Ward, it occurred to him that it would be -disagreeable to go so far in the rain. He was considering what he -should do when he noticed a tumbled-down house surrounded by very -ancient trees. He asked whose this gloomy and desolate mansion might -be, and Koremitsu, who, as usual, was with him replied: ‘Why that is -the late Azechi no Dainagon’s house. A day or two ago I took occasion -to call there and was told that my Lady the nun has grown very weak -and does not now know what goes on about her.’ ‘Why did you not tell -me this before? ‘said Genji deeply concerned; ‘I should have called at -once to convey my sympathy to her household. Pray go in at once and -ask for news.’ Koremitsu accordingly sent one of the lesser attendants -to the house, instructing him to give the impression that Genji had -come on purpose to enquire. When the man announced that Prince Genji -had sent him for news and was himself waiting outside, great -excitement and consternation prevailed in the house. Their mistress, -the servants said, had for several days been lying in a very parlous -condition and could not possibly receive a visit. But they dared not -simply send so distinguished a visitor away, and hastily tidying the -southern parlour, they bustled him into it, saying, ‘You must forgive -us for showing you into this untidy room. We have done our best to -make it presentable. Perhaps, on a surprise visit, you will forgive us -for conducting you to such an out-of-the-way closet....’ It was indeed -not at all the kind of room that he was used <span class="pagenum"><i>{162}</i></span> to. ‘I have been -meaning for a long while to visit this house,’ said Genji; ‘but time -after time the proposals which I made in writing concerning a certain -project of mine were summarily rejected and this discouraged me. Had I -but known that your mistress’s health had taken this turn for the -worse....’ ‘Tell him that at this moment my mind is clear, though it -may soon be darkened again. I am deeply sensible of the kindness he -has shown in thus visiting my death-bed, and regret that I cannot -speak with him face to face. Tell him that if by any chance he has not -altered his mind with regard to the matter that he has discussed with -me before, by all means let him, when the time has come, number her -among the ladies of his household. It is with great anxiety that I -leave her behind me and I fear that such a bond with earth may hinder -me from reaching the life for which I have prayed.’</p> - -<p>Her room was so near and the partition so thin that as she gave -Shōnagon her message he could hear now and again the sound of her sad, -quavering voice. Presently he heard her saying to someone ‘How kind, -how very kind of him to come. If only the child were old enough to -thank him nicely!’ ‘It is indeed no question of kindness,’ said Genji -to Shōnagon. ‘Surely it is evident that only some very deep feeling -would have driven me to display so zealous a persistency! Since first -I saw this child, a feeling of strange tenderness towards her -possessed me, and it has grown to such a love as cannot be of this -world only.<a id="FNanchor_V_8" href="#Footnote_V_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> Though it is but an idle fancy, I have a longing to -hear her voice. Could you not send for her before I go?’ ‘Poor little -thing,’ said Shōnagon. ‘She is fast asleep in her room and knows -nothing of all our troubles.’ But as she spoke there was a sound of -someone moving in the women’s quarters and a voice suddenly was heard -saying: <span class="pagenum"><i>{163}</i></span> ‘Grandmother, Grandmother! Prince Genji who came to see -us in the mountains is here, paying a visit. Why do you not let him -come and talk to you?’ ‘Hush, child, hush!’ cried all the gentlewomen, -scandalized. ‘No, no,’ said the child; ‘Grandmother said that when she -saw this prince it made her feel better at once. I was not being silly -at all.’ This speech delighted Genji; but the gentlewomen of the -household thought the child’s incursion painful and unseemly, and -pretended not to hear her last remark. Genji gave up the idea of -paying a real visit and drove back to his house, thinking as he went -that her behaviour was indeed still that of a mere infant. Yet how -easy and delightful it would be to teach her!</p> - -<p>Next day he paid a proper visit. On his arrival he sent in a poem -written on his usual tiny slip of paper: ‘Since first I heard the -voice of the young crane, my boat shows a strange tendency to stick -among the reeds!’ It was meant for the little girl and was written in -a large, childish hand, but very beautifully, so that the ladies of -the house said as soon as they saw it ‘This will have to go into the -child’s copy-book.’</p> - -<p>Shōnagon sent him the following note: ‘My mistress, feeling that she -might not live through the day, asked us to have her moved to the -temple in the hills, and she is already on her way. I shall see to it -that she learns of your enquiry, if I can but send word to her before -it is too late.’ The letter touched him deeply.</p> - -<p>During these autumn evenings his heart was in a continual ferment. But -though all his thoughts were occupied in a different quarter, yet -owing to the curious relationship in which the child stood to the -being who thus obsessed his mind, the desire to make the girl his own -throughout this stormy time grew daily stronger. He remembered the -evening when he had first seen her and the nun’s poem, <span class="pagenum"><i>{164}</i></span> ‘Not -knowing if any will come to nurture the tender leaf....’ She would -always be delightful; but in some respects she might not fulfil her -early promise. One must take risks. And he made the poem: ‘When shall -I see it lying in my hand, the young grass of the moor-side that -springs from purple<a id="FNanchor_V_9" href="#Footnote_V_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> roots?’ In the tenth month the Emperor was to -visit the Suzaku-in for the Festival of Red Leaves. The dancers were -all to be sons of the noblest houses. The most accomplished among the -princes, courtiers and other great gentlemen had been chosen for their -parts by the Emperor himself, and from the Royal Princes and State -Ministers downward everyone was busy with continual practices and -rehearsals. Genji suddenly realized that for a long while he had not -enquired after his friends on the mountain. He at once sent a special -messenger who brought back this letter from the priest: ‘The end came -on the twentieth day of last month. It is the common lot of mankind; -yet her loss is very grievous to me!’ This and more he wrote, and -Genji, reading the letter was filled with a bitter sense of life’s -briefness and futility. And what of the child concerning whose future -the dead woman had shown such anxiety? He could not remember his own -mother’s death at all distinctly; but some dim recollection still -floated in his mind and gave to his letter of condolence an added -warmth of feeling. It was answered, not without a certain -self-importance, by the nurse Shōnagon.</p> - -<p>After the funeral and mourning were over, the child was brought back -to the Capital. Hearing of this he allowed a short while to elapse and -then one fine, still night went to the house of his own accord. This -gloomy, decaying, half-deserted mansion must, he thought, have a most -depressing effect upon the child who lived there. He was <span class="pagenum"><i>{165}</i></span> shown -into the same small room as before. Here Shōnagon told him between her -sobs the whole tale of their bereavement, at which he too found -himself strangely moved. ‘I would send my little mistress to His -Highness her father’s,’ she continued, ‘did I not remember how cruelly -her poor mother was used in that house. And I would do it still if my -little lady were a child in arms who would not know where she had been -taken to nor what the people there were feeling towards her. But she -is now too big a girl to go among a lot of strange children who might -not treat her kindly. So her poor dead grandmother was always saying -down to her last day. You, Sir, have been very good to us, and it -would be a great weight off my mind to know that she was coming to you -even if it were only for a little while; and I would not worry you -with asking what was to become of her afterwards. Only for her sake I -am sorry indeed that she is not some years older, so that you might -make a match of it. But the way she has been brought up has made her -young even for her age.’ ‘You need not so constantly remind me of her -childishness,’ said Genji. ‘Though it is indeed her youth and -helplessness which move my compassion, yet I realize (and why should I -hide it from myself or from you?) that a far closer bond unites our -souls. Let me tell her myself what we have just now decided,’ and he -recited a poem in which he asked if ‘like the waves that lap the shore -where young reeds grow he must advance only to recede again.’ ‘Will -she be too much surprised?’ he added. Shōnagon, saying that the little -girl should by all means be fetched, answered his poem with another in -which she warned him that he must not expect her to ‘drift -seaweed-like with the waves,’ before she understood his intention. -‘Now, what made you think I should send you away without letting her -see you?’ she asked, speaking in an off-hand, familiar tone which he -<span class="pagenum"><i>{166}</i></span> found it easy to pardon. His appearance, which the gentlewomen of -the house studied with great care while he sat waiting for the child -and singing to himself a verse of the song <i>Why so hard to cross the -hill?</i> made a deep impression upon them, and they did not forget that -moment for a long while after.</p> - -<p>The child was lying on her bed weeping for her grandmother. ‘A -gentleman in a big cloak has come to play with you,’ said one of the -women who were waiting upon her; ‘I wonder if it is your father.’ At -this she jumped up and cried out: ‘Nurse, where is the gentleman in a -cloak? Is he my father?’ and she came running into the room. ‘No,’ -said Genji, ‘it is not your father; but it is someone else who wants -you to be very fond of him. Come....’ She had learnt from the way -people talked about him that Prince Genji was someone very important, -and feeling that he must really be very angry with her for speaking of -him as the ‘gentleman in a cloak’ she went straight to her nurse and -whispered ‘Please, I am sleepy.’ ‘You must not be shy of me any more,’ -said Genji. ‘If you are sleepy, come here and lie on my knee. Will you -not even come and talk to me?’ ‘There,’ said Shōnagon, ‘you see what a -little savage she is,’ and pushed the child towards him. She stood -listlessly by his side, passing her hand under her hair so that it -fell in waves over her soft dress or clasping a great bunch of it -where it stuck out thick around her shoulders. Presently he took her -hand in his; but at once, in terror of this close contact with someone -to whom she was not used, she cried out ‘I said I wanted to go to -bed,’ and snatching her hand away she ran into the women’s quarters. -He followed her crying ‘Dear one, do not run away from me! Now that -your granny is gone, you must love me instead.’ ‘Well!’ gasped -Shōnagon, deeply shocked. ‘No, that is too much! How can you bring -<span class="pagenum"><i>{167}</i></span> yourself to say such a wicked thing to the poor child? And it is -not much use <em>telling</em> people to be fond of one, is it?’ ‘For the -moment, it may not be,’ said Genji. ‘But you will see that strange -things happen if one’s heart is set upon a thing as mine is now.’</p> - -<p>Hail was falling. It was a wild and terrible night. The thought of -leaving her to pass it in this gloomy and half-deserted mansion -immeasurably depressed him and snatching at this excuse for remaining -near her: ‘Shut the partition-door!’ he cried. ‘I will stay for a -while and play the watchman here on this terrible night. Draw near to -me, all of you!’ and so saying, as though it were the most natural -thing in the world, he picked up the child in his arms and carried her -to her bed. The gentlewomen were far too astonished and confounded to -budge from their seats; while Shōnagon, though his high-handed -proceedings greatly agitated and alarmed her, had to confess to -herself that there was no real reason to interfere, and could only sit -moaning in her corner. The little girl was at first terribly -frightened. She did not know what he was going to do with her and -shuddered violently. Even the feel of his delicate, cool skin when he -drew her to him, gave her goose-flesh. He saw this; but none the less -he began gently and carefully to remove her outer garments, and laid -her down. Then, though he knew quite well that she was still -frightened of him, he began talking to her softly and tenderly: ‘How -would you like to come with me one day to a place where there are lots -of lovely pictures and dolls and toys?’ And he went on to speak so -feelingly of all the things she was most interested in that soon she -felt almost at home with him. But for a long while she was restless -and did not go properly to sleep. The storm still raged. ‘Whatever -should we have done if this gentleman had not been here,’ whispered -one of the women; ‘I know <span class="pagenum"><i>{168}</i></span> that for my part I should have been in -a terrible fright. If only our little lady were nearer to his age!’ -Shōnagon, still mistrustful, sat quite close to Genji all the while.</p> - -<p>At last the wind began to drop. The night was far spent; but his -return at such an hour would cause no surprise! ‘She has become so -dear to me,’ said Genji, ‘that, above all at this sad time in her -life, I am loath to leave her even for a few short hours. I think I -shall put her somewhere where I can see her whenever I wish. I wonder -that she is not frightened to live in such a place as this.’ ‘I think -her father spoke of coming to fetch her,’ said Shōnagon; ‘but that is -not likely to be till the Forty-nine Days are up.’ ‘It would of course -under ordinary circumstances be natural that her father should look -after her,’ admitted Genji; ‘but as she has been brought up entirely -by someone else she has no more reason to care for him than for me. -And though I have known her so short a time, I am certainly far fonder -of her than her father can possibly be.’ So saying he stroked the -child’s hair and then reluctantly, with many backward glances, left -the room. There was now a heavy white fog, and hoar-frost lay thick on -the grass. Suddenly he found himself wishing that it were a real -love-affair, and he became very depressed. It occurred to him that on -his way home he would pass by a certain house which he had once -familiarly frequented. He knocked at the door, but no one answered. He -then ordered one of his servants who had a strong voice to recite the -following lines: ‘By my Sister’s gate though morning fog makes all the -world still dark as night, I could not fail to pause.’ When this had -been sung twice, the lady sent an impertinent coxcomb of a valet to -the door, who having recited the poem ‘If you disliked the hedge of -fog that lies about this place, a gate of crazy wicker would not keep -you standing in the street,’ at once went back again <span class="pagenum"><i>{169}</i></span> into the -house. He waited; but no one else came to the door, and though he was -in no mood to go dully home since it was now broad daylight, what else -could be done? At his palace he lay for a long while smiling to -himself with pleasure as he recollected the child’s pretty speeches -and ways. Towards noon he rose and began to write a letter to her; but -he could not find the right words, and after many times laying his -brush aside he determined at last to send her some nice pictures -instead.</p> - -<p>That day Prince Hyōbukyō paid his long-promised visit to the late -nun’s house. The place seemed to him even more ruinous, vast and -antiquated than he remembered it years ago. How depressing it must be -for a handful of persons to live in these decaying halls, and looking -about him he said to the nurse: ‘No child ought to live in a place -like this even for a little while. I must take her away at once; there -is plenty of room in my house. You’ (turning to Shōnagon) ‘shall be -found a place as a Lady-in-Waiting there. The child will be very well -off, for there are several other young people for her to play with.’ -He called the little girl to him and noticing the rich perfume that -clung to her dress since Genji held her in his arms, the Prince said -‘How nicely your dress is scented. But isn’t it rather drab?’ No -sooner had he said this than he remembered that she was in mourning, -and felt slightly uncomfortable. ‘I used sometimes to tell her -grandmother,’ he continued, ‘that she ought to let her come to see me -and get used to our ways; for indeed it was a strange upbringing for -her to live alone year in year out with one whose health and spirits -steadily declined. But she for some reason was very unfriendly towards -me, and there was in another quarter<a id="FNanchor_V_10" href="#Footnote_V_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> too a reluctance which I fear -even at such a time as this may not be wholly overcome....’ ‘If that is -<span class="pagenum"><i>{170}</i></span> so,’ said Shōnagon, ‘dull as it is for her here, I do not think -she should be moved till she is a little better able to shift for -herself.’</p> - -<p>For days on end the child had been in a terrible state of grief, and -not having eaten the least bite of anything she was grown very thin, -but was none the less lovely for that. He looked at her tenderly and -said: ‘You must not cry any more now. When people die, there is no -help for it and we must bear it bravely. But now all is well, for I -have come instead....’ But it was getting late and he could not stay -any longer. As he turned to go he saw that the child, by no means -consoled at the prospect of falling under his care, was again crying -bitterly. The Prince, himself shedding a few tears did his best to -comfort her: ‘Do not grieve so,’ he said, ‘to-day or to-morrow I will -send for you to come and live with me,’ and with that he departed. -Still the child wept and no way could be found to distract her -thoughts. It was not of course that she had any anxiety about her own -future, for about such matters she had not yet begun to think at all; -but only that she had lost the companion from whom for years on end -she had never for a moment been separated. Young as she was, she -suffered so cruelly that all her usual games were quite abandoned, and -though sometimes during the day her spirits would a little improve, as -night drew on she became so melancholy that Shōnagon began to wonder -how much longer things would go on like this, and in despair at not -being able to comfort her, would herself burst into tears.</p> - -<p>Presently Koremitsu arrived with a message saying that Genji had -intended to visit them, but owing to a sudden command from the Palace -was unable to do so, and being very much perturbed at the little one’s -grievous condition had sent for further news. Having delivered this -message <span class="pagenum"><i>{171}</i></span> Koremitsu brought in some of Genji’s servants whom he had -sent to mount guard over the house that night. ‘This kindness is -indeed ill-placed,’ said Shōnagon. ‘It may not seem to him of much -consequence that his gentlemen should be installed here; but if the -child’s father hears of it, we servants shall get all the blame for -the little lady’s being given away to a married gentleman. It was you -who let it all begin, we shall be told. Now be careful,’ she said -turning to her fellow-servants, ‘do not let her even mention these -watchmen to her father.’ But alas, the child was quite incapable of -understanding such a prohibition, and Shōnagon, after pouring out many -lamentations to Koremitsu, continued: ‘I do not doubt but that in due -time she will somehow become his wife, for so their fate seems to -decree. But now and for a long while there can be no talk of any such -thing, and this, as he has roundly told me, he knows as well as the -rest of us. So what he is after I cannot for the life of me imagine. -Only to-day when Prince Hyōbukyō was here he bade me keep a sharp eye -upon her and not let her be treated with any indiscretion. I confess -when he said it I remembered with vexation certain liberties which I -have allowed your master to take, thinking little enough of them at -the time.’ No sooner had she said this than she began to fear that -Koremitsu would put a worse construction on her words than she -intended, and shaking her head very dolefully she relapsed into -silence. Nor was she far wrong, for Koremitsu was indeed wondering of -what sort Genji’s misdemeanours could have been.</p> - -<p>On hearing Koremitsu’s report Genji’s heart was filled with pity for -the child’s state and he would like to have gone to her at once. But -he feared that ignorant people would misunderstand these frequent -visits and, thinking the girl older than she was, spread foolish -scandals abroad. <span class="pagenum"><i>{172}</i></span> It would be far simpler to fetch her to his -Palace and keep her there. All through the day he sent numerous -letters, and at dusk Koremitsu again went to the house saying that -urgent business had once more prevented Genji from visiting them, for -which remissness he tendered his apologies. Shōnagon answered curtly -that the girl’s father had suddenly decided to fetch her away next day -and that they were too busy to receive visits: ‘The servants are all -in a fluster at leaving this shabby old house where they have lived so -long and going to a strange, grand place....’ She answered his further -questions so briefly and seemed so intent upon her sewing, that -Koremitsu went away.</p> - -<p>Genji was at the Great Hall, but as usual he had been unable to get a -word out of Aoi and in a gloomy mood he was plucking at his zithern -and singing ‘Why sped you across field and hill So fast upon this -rainy night?’<a id="FNanchor_V_11" href="#Footnote_V_11" class="fnanchor">11</a></p> - -<p>The words of the song were aimed at Aoi and he sang them with much -feeling. He was thus employed when Koremitsu arrived at the Great -Hall. Genji sent for him at once and bade him tell his story. -Koremitsu’s news was very disquieting. Once she was in her father’s -palace it would look very odd that Genji should fetch her away, even -if she came willingly. It would inevitably be rumoured abroad that he -had made off with her like a child-snatcher, a thief. Far better to -anticipate his rival and exacting a promise of silence from the people -about her, carry her off to his own palace immediately. ‘I shall go -there at daybreak,’ he said to Koremitsu; ‘Order the carriage that I -came here in, it can be used just as it is, and see to it that one or -two attendants are ready to go with me.’ Koremitsu bowed and retired.</p> - -<p>Genji knew that whichever course he chose, there was <span class="pagenum"><i>{173}</i></span> bound to be -a scandal so soon as the thing became known. Inevitably gossips would -spread the report that, young though she was, the child by this time -knew well enough why she had been invited to live with Prince Genji in -his palace. Let them draw their own conclusions. That did not matter. -There was a much worse possibility. What if Hyōbukyō found out where -she was? His conduct in abducting another man’s child would appear in -the highest degree outrageous and discreditable. He was sorely -puzzled, but he knew that if he let this opportunity slip he would -afterwards bitterly repent it, and long before daybreak he started on -his way. Aoi was cold and sullen as ever. ‘I have just remembered -something very important which I must see about at home,’ he said; ‘I -shall not be away long,’ and he slipped out so quietly that the -servants of the house did not know that he was gone. His cloak was -brought to him from his own apartments and he drove off attended only -by Koremitsu who followed on horseback. After much knocking they -succeeded in getting the gate opened, but by a servant who was not in -the secret. Koremitsu ordered the man to pull in Genji’s carriage as -quietly as he could and himself went straight to the front door, which -he rattled, coughing as he did so that Shōnagon might know who was -there. ‘My lord is waiting,’ he said when she came to the door. ‘But -the young lady is fast asleep,’ said Shōnagon; ‘his Highness has no -business to be up and about at this time of night.’ She said this -thinking that he was returning from some nocturnal escapade and had -only called there in passing. ‘I hear,’ said Genji now coming forward, -‘that the child is to be moved to her father’s and I have something of -importance which I must say to her before she goes.’ ‘Whatever -business you have to transact with her, I am sure she will give the -matter her closest attention,’ scoffed Shōnagon. <span class="pagenum"><i>{174}</i></span> Matters of -importance indeed, with a child of ten! Genji entered the women’s -quarters. ‘You cannot go in there,’ cried Shōnagon in horror; ‘several -aged ladies are lying all undressed....’ ‘They are all fast asleep,’ -said Genji. ‘See, I am only rousing the child,’ and bending over her: -‘The morning mist is rising,’ he cried, ‘it is time to wake!’ And -before Shōnagon had time to utter a sound, he had taken the child in -his arms and begun gently to rouse her. Still half-dreaming, she -thought it was the prince her father who had come to fetch her. ‘Come,’ -said Genji while he put her hair to rights, ‘your father has sent me -to bring you back with me to his palace.’ For a moment she was dazed -to find that it was not her father and shrank from him in fright. -‘Never mind whether it is your father or I,’ he cried; ‘it is all the -same,’ and so saying he picked her up in his arms and carried her out -of the inner room. ‘Well!’ cried out Koremitsu and Shōnagon in -astonishment. What would he do next? ‘It seems,’ said Genji, ‘that you -were disquieted at my telling you I could not visit her here as often -as I wished and would make arrangements for her to go to a more -convenient place. I hear that you are sending her where it will be -even more difficult for me to see her. Therefore ... make ready one or -the other of you to come with me.’</p> - -<p>Shōnagon, who now realized that he was going to make off with the -child, fell into a terrible fluster. ‘O Sir,’ she said, ‘you could not -have chosen a worse time. To-day her father is coming to fetch her, -and whatever shall I say to him? If only you would wait, I am sure it -would all come right in the end. But by acting so hastily you will do -yourself no good and leave the poor servants here in a sad pickle.’ -‘If that is all,’ cried Genji, ‘let them follow as soon as they -choose,’ and to Shōnagon’s despair he had the carriage brought in. The -child stood by weeping and <span class="pagenum"><i>{175}</i></span> bewildered. There seemed no way of -preventing him from carrying out his purpose and gathering together -the child’s clothes that she had been sewing the night before, the -nurse put on her own best dress and stepped into the carriage. Genji’s -house was not far off and they arrived before daylight. They drew up -in front of the western wing and Genji alighted. Taking the child -lightly in his arms he set her on the ground. Shōnagon, to whom these -strange events seemed like a dream, hesitated as though still -uncertain whether she should enter the house or no. ‘There is no need -for you to come in if you do not want to,’ said Genji. ‘Now that the -child herself is safely here I am quite content. If you had rather go -back, you have only to say so and I will escort you.’</p> - -<p>Reluctantly she left the carriage. The suddenness of the move was in -itself enough to have upset her; but she was also worrying about what -Prince Hyōbukyō would think when he found that his child had vanished. -And indeed what <em>was</em> going to become of her? One way or another all her -mistresses seemed to be taken from her and it was only when she became -frightened of having wept for so long on end that she at last dried -her eyes and began to pray.</p> - -<p>The western wing had long been uninhabited and was not completely -furnished; but Koremitsu had soon fitted up screens and curtains where -they were required. For Genji makeshift quarters were soon contrived -by letting down the side-wings of his screen-of-honour. He sent to the -other part of the house for his night things and went to sleep. The -child, who had been put to bed not far off, was still very -apprehensive and ill at ease in these new surroundings. Her lips were -trembling, but she dared not cry out loud. ‘I want to sleep with -Shōnagon,’ she said at last in a tearful, babyish voice. ‘You are -getting too big to sleep with a nurse,’ said Genji, who had heard her. -<span class="pagenum"><i>{176}</i></span> ‘You must try and go to sleep nicely where you are.’ She felt -very lonely and lay weeping for a long while. The nurse was far too -much upset to think of going to bed and sat up for the rest of the -night in the servants’ quarters crying so bitterly that she was -unconscious of all that went on around her.</p> - -<p>But when it grew light she began to look about her a little. Not only -this great palace with its marvellous pillars and carvings, but the -sand in the courtyard outside which seemed to her like a carpet of -jewels made so dazzling an impression upon her that at first she felt -somewhat overawed. However, the fact that she was now no longer in a -household of women gave her an agreeable sense of security.</p> - -<p>It was the hour at which business brought various strangers to the -house. There were several men walking just outside her window and she -heard one of them whisper to another: ‘They say that someone new has -come to live here. Who can it be, I wonder? A lady of note, I’ll -warrant you.’</p> - -<p>Bath water was brought from the other wing, and steamed rice for -breakfast. Genji did not rise till far on into the morning. ‘It is not -good for the child to be alone,’ he said to Shōnagon, ‘so last night -before I came to you I arranged for some little people to come and -stay here,’ and so saying he sent a servant to ‘fetch the little girls -from the eastern wing.’ He had given special orders that they were to -be as small as possible and now four of the tiniest and prettiest -creatures imaginable arrived upon the scene.</p> - -<p>Murasaki was still asleep, lying wrapped in Genji’s own coat. It was -with difficulty that he roused her. ‘You must not be sad any more,’ he -said; ‘If I were not very fond of you, should I be looking after you -like this? Little girls ought to be very gentle and obedient in their -ways.’ And thus her education was begun.</p> - -<p>She seemed to him, now that he could study her at leisure, <span class="pagenum"><i>{177}</i></span> even -more lovely than he had realized and they were soon engaged in an -affectionate conversation. He sent for delightful pictures and toys to -show her and set to work to amuse her in every way he could. Gradually -he persuaded her to get up and look about her. In her shabby dress -made of some dark grey material she looked so charming now that she -was laughing and playing, with all her woes forgotten, that Genji too -laughed with pleasure as he watched her. When at last he retired to -the eastern wing, she went out of doors to look at the garden. As she -picked her way among the trees and along the side of the lake, and -gazed with delight upon the frosty flower-beds that glittered gay as a -picture, while a many-coloured throng of unknown people passed -constantly in and out of the house, she began to think that this was a -very nice place indeed. Then she looked at the wonderful pictures that -were painted on all the panels and screens and quite lost her heart to -them.</p> - -<p>For two or three days Genji did not go to the Palace, but spent all -his time amusing the little girl. Finally he drew all sorts of -pictures for her to put into her copy-book, showing them to her one by -one as he did so. She thought them the loveliest set of pictures she -had ever seen. Then he wrote part of the <cite>Musashi-no</cite> poem.<a id="FNanchor_V_12" href="#Footnote_V_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> She -was delighted by the way it was written in bold ink-strokes on a -background stained with purple. In a smaller hand was the poem: -‘Though the parent-root<a id="FNanchor_V_13" href="#Footnote_V_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> I cannot see, yet tenderly I love its -off-shoot,<a id="FNanchor_V_14" href="#Footnote_V_14" class="fnanchor">14</a>—the dewy plant that grows upon Musashi Moor.’ ‘Come’ -said Genji while she was admiring it, ‘you must write something too.’ -‘I cannot write properly yet’ she answered, looking up at him with a -<span class="pagenum"><i>{178}</i></span> witchery so wholly unconscious that Genji laughed. ‘Even if you -cannot write properly it will never do for us to let you off -altogether. Let me give you a lesson.’ With many timid glances towards -him she began to write. Even the childish manner in which she grasped -the brush gave him a thrill of delight which he was at a loss to -explain. ‘Oh, I have spoiled it’ she suddenly cried out and blushing -hid from him what she had written. But he forced her to let him see it -and found the poem: ‘I do not know what put Musashi into your head and -am very puzzled. What plant is it that you say is a relative of mine?’ -It was written in a large childish hand which was indeed very -undeveloped, but was nevertheless full of promise. It showed a strong -resemblance to the late nun’s writing. He felt certain that if she -were given up-to-date copy-books she would soon write very nicely.</p> - -<p>Next they built houses for the dolls and played so long at this game -together that Genji forgot for a while the great anxiety<a id="FNanchor_V_15" href="#Footnote_V_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> which was -at that time preying upon his mind.</p> - -<p>The servants who had been left behind at Murasaki’s house were -extremely embarrassed when Prince Hyōbukyō came to fetch her. Genji -had made them promise for a time at any rate to tell no one of what -had happened and Shōnagon had seemed to agree that this was best. -Accordingly he could get nothing out of them save that Shōnagon had -taken the child away with her without saying anything about where she -was going. The Prince felt completely baffled. Perhaps the grandmother -had instilled into the nurse’s mind the idea that things would not go -smoothly for the child at his palace. In that case the nurse with an -excess of craftiness might, instead of openly saying that she feared -the child would not be well treated under his roof, have thought it -wiser to make off with her when <span class="pagenum"><i>{179}</i></span> opportunity offered. He went home -very depressed, asking them to let him know instantly if they had any -news, a request which again embarrassed them. He also made enquiries -of the priest at the temple in the hills, but could learn nothing. She -had seemed to him to be a most lovable and delightful child; it was -very -<a id="disappointing"></a><ins title="Original has ‘diasppointing’">disappointing</ins> -to lose sight of her in this manner. The princess -his wife had long ago got over her dislike of the child’s mother and -was indignant at the idea that she was not to be trusted to do her -duty by the child properly.</p> - -<p>Gradually the servants from Murasaki’s house assembled at her new -home. The little girls who had been brought to play with her were -delighted with their new companion and they were soon all playing -together very happily.</p> - -<p>When her prince was away or busy, on dreary evenings she would still -sometimes long for her grandmother the nun and cry a little. But she -never thought about her father whom she had never been used to see -except at rare intervals. Now indeed she had ‘a new father’ of whom -she was growing every day more fond. When he came back from anywhere -she was the first to meet him and then wonderful games and -conversations began, she sitting all the while on his lap without the -least shyness or restraint. A more charming companion could not have -been imagined. It might be that when she grew older, she would not -always be so trustful. New aspects of her character might come into -play. If she suspected, for example, that he cared for someone else, -she might resent it, and in such a case all sorts of unexpected things -are apt to happen; but for the present she was a delightful plaything. -Had she really been his daughter, convention would not have allowed -him to go on much longer living with her on terms of such complete -intimacy; but in a case like this he felt that such scruples were not -applicable.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_1" href="#FNanchor_V_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> Fujitsubo, who was indeed the child’s aunt. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_2" href="#FNanchor_V_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> Fujitsubo, who was Hyōbukyō’s sister. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_3" href="#FNanchor_V_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> The Guardian Spell (<i>goshin</i>) is practised as follows: - - - <p>The ministrant holds the palms of his hands together with middle - fingers touching and extended, first fingers separated and bent, tips - of thumbs and little fingers bunched together, and third fingers in - line with middle fingers so as to be invisible from in front. With - hands in this sacred pose (<i>mudrā</i>) he touches the worshipper on - forehead, left and right shoulder, heart and throat. At each contact - he utters the spell</p> - - <p class="noindent1">ON · BASARA GONJI HARAJŪBATA · SOHAKA</p> - - <p class="noindent">which is corrupt Sanskrit and means ‘I invoke thee, thou - diamond-fiery very majestic Star.’ The deity here invoked is - Vairocana, favourite Buddha of the Mystic Sect.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_4" href="#FNanchor_V_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> A Chinese instrument; often translated ‘mouth-organ.’ -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_5" href="#FNanchor_V_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> A song the words of which were used as a first writing lesson. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_6" href="#FNanchor_V_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> There is here a pun, and a reference to poem 3807 in the <cite>Manyōshū</cite>. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_7" href="#FNanchor_V_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> To Lady Rokujō. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_8" href="#FNanchor_V_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> Arises out of some connection in a previous existence. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_9" href="#FNanchor_V_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> Purple is <i>murasaki</i> in Japanese. From this poem the child is -known as Murasaki; and hence the authoress derived the nickname by -which she too is known. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_10" href="#FNanchor_V_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> His wife. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_11" href="#FNanchor_V_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> The song is addressed by a girl to a suspicious lover; Genji -reverses the sense. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_12" href="#FNanchor_V_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> ‘Though I know not the place, yet when they told me this was the -moor of Musashi, the thought flashed through my mind: “What else -indeed could it be, since all its grass is purple-dyed?”’ -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_13" href="#FNanchor_V_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> Fujitsubo. The fuji flower is also purple (<i>murasaki</i>) in colour. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_14" href="#FNanchor_V_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> The child Murasaki, who was Fujitsubo’s niece. Musashi was famous -for the purple dye extracted from the roots of a grass that grew there. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_V_15" href="#FNanchor_V_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> The pregnancy of Fujitsubo. -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_180"><i>{180}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br /> -<span class="larger">THE SAFFRON-FLOWER</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">TRY as he might he could not dispel the melancholy into which Yūgao’s -sudden death<a id="FNanchor_VI_1" href="#Footnote_VI_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> had cast him, and though many months had gone by he -longed for her passionately as ever. In other quarters where he had -looked for affection, coldness vied with coldness and pride with -pride. He longed to escape once more from the claims of these -passionate and exacting natures, and renew the life of tender intimacy -which for a while had given him so great a happiness. But alas, no -second Yūgao would he ever find. Despite his bitter experience he -still fancied that one day he might at least discover some beautiful -girl of humble origin whom he could meet without concealment, and he -listened eagerly to any hint that was likely to put him upon a -promising track. If the prospects seemed favourable he would follow up -his enquiries by writing a discreet letter which, as he knew from -experience, would seldom indeed meet with a wholly discouraging reply. -Even those who seemed bent on showing by the prim stiffness of their -answers that they placed virtue high above sensibility, and who at -first appeared hardly conversant with the usages of polite society, -would suddenly collapse into the wildest intimacy which would continue -until their marriage with some commonplace husband cut short the -correspondence.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{181}</i></span></p> - -<p>There were vacant moments when he thought of Utsusemi with regret. And -there was her companion too; some time or other there would surely be -an opportunity of sending her a surprise message. If only he could see -her again as he had seen her that night sitting by the chess-board in -the dim lamplight. It was not indeed in his nature ever to forget -anyone of whom he had once been fond.</p> - -<p>Among his old nurses there was one called Sayemon to whom, next after -Koremitsu’s mother, he was most deeply attached. She had a daughter -called Taifu no Myōbu who was in service at the Palace. This girl was -an illegitimate child of a certain member of the Imperial family who -was then Vice-minister of the Board of War. She was a young person of -very lively disposition and Genji often made use of her services. Her -mother, Genji’s nurse, had afterwards married the governor of Echizen -and had gone with him to his province, so the girl when she was not at -the Palace lived chiefly at her father’s.</p> - -<p>She happened one day when she was talking with Genji to mention a -certain princess, daughter of the late Prince Hitachi. This lady, she -said, was born to the Prince when he was quite an old man and every -care had been lavished upon her upbringing. Since his death she had -lived alone and was very unhappy. Genji’s sympathy was aroused and he -began to question Myōbu about this unfortunate lady. ‘I do not really -know much either about her character or her appearance’ said Myōbu; -‘she is extremely seclusive in her habits. Sometimes I have talked to -her a little in the evening, but always with a curtain between us. I -believe her zithern is the only companion in whom she is willing to -confide.’ ‘Of the Three Friends<a id="FNanchor_VI_2" href="#Footnote_VI_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> one at least would in her case be -unsuitable’ said Genji. ‘But I should like to hear her play; her -father was a great performer on this <span id="Page_182" class="pagenum"><i>{182}</i></span> instrument and it is -unlikely that she has not inherited some of his skill.’ ‘Oh, I am -afraid she is not worth your coming to hear,’ said Myōbu. ‘You are -very discouraging,’ he answered, ‘but all the same I shall hide there -one of these nights when the full moon is behind the clouds and listen -to her playing; and you shall come with me.’ She was not best pleased; -but just then even upon the busy Palace a springtime quiet seemed to -have settled, and being quite at leisure she consented to accompany -him. Her father’s house was at some distance from the town and for -convenience he sometimes lodged in Prince Hitachi’s palace. Myōbo got -on badly with her step-mother, and taking a fancy to the lonely -princess’s quarters she kept a room there.</p> - -<p>It was indeed on the night after the full moon, in just such a veiled -light as Genji had spoken of, that they visited the Hitachi palace. ‘I -am afraid,’ said Myōbu, ‘that it is not a very good night for -listening to music; sounds do not seem to carry very well.’ But he -would not be thus put off. ‘Go to her room’ he said, ‘and persuade her -to play a few notes; it would be a pity if I went away without hearing -her at all.’ Myōbu felt somewhat shy of leaving him like this in her -own little private room. She found the princess sitting by the window, -her shutters not yet closed for the night; she was enjoying the scent -of a blossoming plum-tree which stood in the garden just outside. It -did indeed seem just the right moment. ‘I thought how lovely your -zithern would sound on such a night as this,’ she said, ‘and could not -resist coming to see you. I am always in such a hurry, going to and -from the Palace, that do you know I have never had time to hear you -play. It is such a pity.’ ‘Music of this sort,’ she replied, ‘gives no -pleasure to those who have not studied it. What do they care for such -matters <em>who all day long run hither and thither in the</em> <span class="pagenum"><i>{183}</i></span> <em>City of a -Hundred Towers</em>?’<a id="FNanchor_VI_3" href="#Footnote_VI_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> She sent for her zithern; but her heart beat fast. -What impression would her playing make upon this girl? Timidly she -sounded a few notes. The effect was very agreeable. True, she was not -a great performer; but the instrument was a particularly fine one and -Genji found her playing by no means unpleasant to listen to.</p> - -<p>Living in this lonely and half-ruined palace after such an upbringing -(full no doubt of antiquated formalities and restrictions) as her -father was likely to have given her it would be strange indeed if her -life did not for the most part consist of memories and regrets. This -was just the sort of place which in an old tale would be chosen as the -scene for the most romantic happenings. His imagination thus stirred, -he thought of sending her a message. But perhaps she would think this -rather sudden. For some reason he felt shy, and hesitated.</p> - -<p>‘It seems to be clouding over,’ said the astute Myōbu, who knew that -Genji would carry away a far deeper impression if he heard no more for -the present. ‘Someone was coming to see me’ she continued; ‘I must -not keep him waiting. Perhaps some other time when I am not in such a -hurry.... Let me close your window for you,’ and with that she -rejoined Genji, giving the princess no encouragement to play any more. -‘She stopped so soon,’ he complained, ‘that it was hardly worth -getting her to play at all. One had not time to catch the drift of -what she was playing. Really it was a pity!’ That the princess was -beautiful he made no doubt at all. ‘I should be very much obliged if -you would arrange for me to hear her at closer quarters.’ But Myōbu, -thinking that this would lead to disappointment, told him that the -princess who led so hermit-like an existence and seemed always so -depressed <span class="pagenum"><i>{184}</i></span> and subdued would hardly welcome the suggestion that -she should perform before a stranger. ‘Of course,’ said Genji, ‘a -thing of that kind could only be suggested between people who were on -familiar terms or to someone of very different rank. This lady’s rank, -as I am perfectly well aware, entitles her to be treated with every -consideration, and I would not ask you to do more than hint at my -desire.’ He had promised to meet someone else that night and carefully -disguising himself he was preparing to depart when Myōbu said laughing -‘It amuses me sometimes to think how the Emperor deplores the too -strict and domesticated life which he suffers you to lead. What would -he think if he could see you disguising yourself like this?’ Genji -laughed. ‘I am afraid,’ he said as he left the room, ‘that you are not -quite the right person to denounce me. Those who think such conduct -reprehensible in a man must find it even less excusable in a girl.’ -She remembered that Genji had often been obliged to reproach her for -her reckless flirtations, and blushing made no reply.</p> - -<p>Still hoping to catch a glimpse of the zithern-player he crept softly -towards her window. He was about to hide at a point where the -bamboo-fence was somewhat broken down when he perceived that a man was -already ensconced there. Who could it be? No doubt it was one of the -princess’s lovers and he stepped back to conceal himself in the -darkness. The stranger followed him and turned out to be no other than -Tō no Chūjō. That evening they had left the Palace together, but when -they parted Genji (Chūjō had noticed) did not either go in the -direction of the Great Hall nor back to his own palace. This aroused -Chūjō’s curiosity and, despite the fact that he too had a secret -appointment that night, he decided first to follow Genji and discover -what was afoot. So riding upon a strange horse and wearing a -hunting-cloak, he had got himself up <span class="pagenum"><i>{185}</i></span> altogether so villainously -that he was able to follow Genji without being recognized upon the -road. Seeing him enter so unexpected a place, Chūjō was trying to -imagine what business his friend could possibly have in such a quarter -when the music began and he secreted himself with a vague idea of -waylaying Genji when he came out. But the prince, not knowing who the -stranger was and frightened of being recognized, stole on tip-toe into -the shadow. Chūjō suddenly accosted him: ‘Though you shook me off so -uncivilly, I thought it my duty to keep an eye on you’ he said, and -recited the poem: ‘Though together we left the great Palace hill, your -setting-place you would not show me, Moon of the sixteenth night!’ -Thus he remonstrated; and Genji, though at first he had been somewhat -put out by finding that he was not alone, when he recognized Tō no -Chūjō could not help being rather amused. ‘This is indeed an -unexpected attention on your part’ he said, and expressed his slight -annoyance in the answering verse: ‘Though wheresoever it shines men -marvel at its light, who has before thought fit to follow the full -moon to the hill whereon it sets?’</p> - -<p>‘It is most unsafe for you to go about like this,’ said Chūjō. ‘I -really mean it. You ought always to have a bodyguard; then you are all -right whatever happens. I wish you would always let me come with you. -I am afraid that these clandestine expeditions may one day get you -into trouble,’ and he solemnly repeated the warning. What chiefly -worried Genji was the thought that this might not be the first -occasion upon which Chūjō had followed him; but if it had been his -habit to do so it was certainly very tactful of him never to have -questioned Genji about Yūgao’s child.<a id="FNanchor_VI_4" href="#Footnote_VI_4" class="fnanchor">4</a></p> - -<p>Though each of them had an appointment elsewhere, they <span class="pagenum"><i>{186}</i></span> agreed not -to part. Both of them got into Genji’s carriage and the moon having -vanished behind a cloud, beguiled the way to the Great Hall by playing -a duet upon their flutes. They did not send for torch-bearers to see -them in at the gates, but creeping in very quietly stole to a portico -where they could not be seen and had their ordinary clothes brought to -them there. Having changed, they entered the house merrily blowing -their flutes as though they had just come back from the Palace.</p> - -<p>Chūjō’s father, who usually pretended not to hear them when they -returned late at night, on this occasion brought out his flageolet, -which was his favourite instrument, and began to play very agreeably. -Aoi sent for her zithern and made all her ladies play on the -instruments at which they excelled. Only Nakatsukasa, though she was -known for her lute-playing, having thrown over Tō no Chūjō who had -been her lover because of her infatuation for Genji with whom her sole -intercourse was that she sometimes saw him casually when he visited -the Great Hall,—only Nakatsukasa sat drooping listlessly; for her -passion had become known to Aoi’s mother and the rest, and they were -being very unpleasant about it. She was thinking in her despair that -perhaps it would be better if she went and lived in some place where -she would never see Genji at all; but the step was hard to take and -she was very unhappy.</p> - -<p>The young princes were thinking of the music they had heard earlier in -the evening, of those romantic surroundings tinged with a peculiar and -inexplicable beauty. Merely because it pleased him so to imagine her, -Tō no Chūjō had already endowed the occupant of the lonely mansion -with every charm. He had quite decided that Genji had been courting -her for months or even years, and thought impatiently that he for his -part, if like Genji he were violently in love with a lady of this -kind, would have been willing to <span class="pagenum"><i>{187}</i></span> risk a few reproaches or even -the loss of a little reputation. He could not however believe that his -friend intended to let the matter rest as it was much longer and -determined to amuse himself by a little rivalry. From that time -onwards both of them sent letters to the lady, but neither ever -received any answer. This both vexed and puzzled them. What could be -the reason? Thinking that such images were suitable to a lady brought -up in these rustic surroundings, in most of the poems which they sent -her they alluded to delicate trees and flowers or other aspects of -nature, hoping sooner or later to hit on some topic which would arouse -her interest in their suit. Though she was of good birth and -education, perhaps through being so long buried away in her vast -mansion she had not any longer the wits to write a reply. And what -indeed did it matter whether she answered or not, thought Tō no Chūjō, -who none the less was somewhat piqued. With his usual frankness he -said to Genji: ‘I wonder whether you have had any answer. I must -confess that as an experiment I too sent a mild hint, but without any -success, so I have not repeated it.’ ‘So he too has been trying his -hand,’ thought Genji smiling to himself. ‘No,’ he answered aloud, ‘my -letter did not need an answer, which was perhaps the reason that I did -not receive one.’ From this enigmatic reply Chūjō deduced that Genji -had been in communication of some kind with the lady and he was -slightly piqued by the fact that she had shown a preference between -them. Genji’s deeper feelings were in no way involved, and though his -vanity was a little wounded he would not have pursued the matter -farther had he not known the persuasive power of Chūjō’s style, and -feared that even now she might overcome her scruples and send him a -reply. Chūjō would become insufferably cock-a-hoop if he got into his -head the idea that the princess had transferred her affections from -Genji to <span class="pagenum"><i>{188}</i></span> himself. He must see what Myōbu could be persuaded to -do. ‘I cannot understand,’ he said to her, ‘why the princess should -refuse to take any notice of my letters. It is really very uncivil of -her. I suppose she thinks I am a frivolous person who intends to amuse -himself a little in her company and then disappear. It is a strangely -false conception of my character. As you know, my affections never -alter, and if I have ever seemed to the world to be unfaithful it has -always been because in reality my suit had met with some unexpected -discouragement. But this lady is so placed that no opposition from -parents or brothers can interrupt our friendship, and if she will but -trust me she will find that her being alone in the world, so far from -exposing her to callous treatment, makes her the more attractive.’ -‘Come,’ answered Myōbu, ‘it will never do for you to run away with the -idea that you can treat this great lady as a pleasant wayside -distraction; on the contrary she is extremely difficult of access and -her rank has accustomed her to be treated with deference and -ceremony.’ So spoke Myōbu, in accordance indeed with her own -experience of the princess. ‘She has evidently no desire to be thought -clever or dashing’ said Genji; ‘for some reason I imagine her as very -gentle and forgiving.’ He was thinking of Yūgao when he said this.</p> - -<p>Soon after this he fell sick of his fever and after that was occupied -by a matter of great secrecy; so that spring and summer had both -passed away before he could again turn his attention to the lonely -lady. But in the autumn came a time of quiet meditation and reflexion. -Again the sound of the cloth-beaters’ mallets reached his ears, -tormenting him with memories and longings. He wrote many letters to -the zithern-player, but with no more success than before. Her -churlishness exasperated him. More than ever he was determined not to -give in, and sending for Myōbu he scolded <span class="pagenum"><i>{189}</i></span> her for having been of -so little assistance to him. ‘What can be going on in the princess’s -mind?’ he said; ‘such strange behaviour I have never met with before.’ -If he was piqued and surprised, Myōbu for her part was vexed that the -affair had gone so badly. ‘No one can say that you have done anything -so very eccentric or indiscreet, and I do not think she feels so. If -she does not answer your letters it is only part of her general -unwillingness to face the outer world.’ ‘But such a way of behaving is -positively barbarous,’ said Genji; ‘if she were a girl in her ’teens -and under the care of parents or guardians, such timidity might be -pardoned; but in an independent woman it is inconceivable. I would -never have written had I not taken it for granted that she had some -experience of the world. I was merely hoping that I had found someone -who in moments of idleness or depression would respond to me -sympathetically. I did not address her in the language of gallantry, -but only begged for permission sometimes to converse with her in that -strange and lonely dwelling-place. But since she seems unable to -understand what it is I am asking of her, we must see what can be done -without waiting for her permission. If you will help me, you may be -sure I shall not disgrace you in any way.’</p> - -<p>Myōbu had once been in the habit of describing to him the appearance -of people whom she had chanced to meet and he always listened to such -accounts with insatiable interest and curiosity; but for a long while -he had paid no attention to her reports. Now for no reason at all the -mere mention of the princess’s existence had aroused in him a fever of -excitement and activity. It was all very unaccountable. Probably he -would find the poor lady extremely unattractive when he saw her and -she would be doing her a very poor service in effecting the -introduction; but to give Genji no help in a matter to which he <span class="pagenum"><i>{190}</i></span> -evidently attached so much importance, would seem very ill-natured.</p> - -<p>Even in Prince Hitachi’s life-time visitors to this stiff, -old-fashioned establishment had been very rare, and now no foot at all -ever made its way through the thickets which were closing in around -the house. It may be imagined then what the visit of so celebrated a -person as Genji would have meant to the ladies-in-waiting and lesser -persons of the household and with what urgency they begged their -mistress to send a favourable reply. But the same desperate shyness -still possessed her and Genji’s letters she would not even read. -Hearing this Myōbu determined to submit Genji’s request to her at some -suitable moment when she and the princess were carrying on one of -their usual uneasy conversations, with the princess’s screen-of-honour -planted between them. ‘If she seems displeased,’ thought Myōbu, ‘I -will positively have nothing more to do with the matter; but if she -receives him and some sort of an affair starts between them, there is -fortunately no one connected with her to scold me or get me into -trouble.’ As the result of these and other reflections, being quite at -home in matters of this kind, she sensibly decided to say nothing -about the business to anybody, not even to her father.</p> - -<p>Late one night, soon after the twentieth day of the eighth month, the -princess sat waiting for the moon to rise. Though the star-light shone -clear and lovely the moaning of the wind in the pine-tree branches -oppressed her with its melancholy, and growing weary of waiting she -was with many tears and sighs recounting to Myōbu stories of bygone -men and days.</p> - -<p>Now was the time to convey Genji’s message, thought Myōbu. She sent -for him, and secretly as before he crept up to the palace. The moon -was just rising. He stood where the neglected bamboo-hedge grew -somewhat sparsely and watched. Persuaded by Myōbu the princess was -already <span class="pagenum"><i>{191}</i></span> at her zithern. So far as he could hear it at this -distance, he did not find the music displeasing; but Myōbu in her -anxiety and confusion thought the tune very dull and wished it would -occur to the princess to play something rather more up-to-date. The -place where Genji was waiting was well screened from view and he had -no difficulty in creeping unobserved into the house. Here he called -for Myōbu, who pretending that the visit was a complete surprise to -her said to the princess: ‘I am so sorry, here is Prince Genji come to -see me. I am always getting into trouble with him for failing to -secure him your favour. I have really done my best, but you do not -make it possible for me to give him any encouragement, so now I -imagine he has come to deal with the matter for himself. What am I to -say to him? I can answer for it that he will do nothing violent or -rash. I think that considering all the trouble he has taken you might -at least tell him that you will speak to him through a screen or -curtain.’ The idea filled the princess with consternation. ‘I should -not know what to say to him,’ she wailed and as she said the words -bolted towards the far side of the room with a bashfulness so -infantile that Myōbu could not help laughing. ‘Indeed, Madam,’ she -said, ‘it is childish of you to take the matter to heart in this way. -If you were an ordinary young lady under the eye of stern parents and -brothers, one could understand it; but for a person in your position -to go on for ever being afraid to face the world is fantastic.’ So -Myōbu admonished her and the princess, who could never think of any -argument against doing what she was told to do, said at last: ‘If I -have only to listen and need not say anything he may speak to me from -behind the lattice-door, so long as it is well locked.’ ‘I cannot ask -him to sit on the servant’s bench,’ said Myōbu. ‘You really need not -be afraid that he will do anything violent or sudden.’ Thus persuaded, -<span class="pagenum"><i>{192}</i></span> the princess went to a hatch which communicated between the -women’s quarters and the strangers’ dais and firmly locking it with -her own hand stuffed a mattress against it to make sure that no chink -was left unstopped. She was in such a terrible state of confusion that -she had not the least idea what she should say to her visitor, if she -had to speak to him, and had agreed to listen to him only because -Myōbu told her that she ought to.</p> - -<p>Several elderly serving-women of the wet-nurse type had been lying -half-asleep in the inner room since dusk. There were however one or -two younger maids who had heard a great deal about this Prince Genji -and were ready to fall in love with him at a moment’s notice. They now -brought out their lady’s handsomest dress and persuaded her to let -them put her a little to rights; but she displayed no interest in -these preparations. Myōbu meanwhile was thinking how well Genji looked -in the picturesque disguise which he had elaborated for use on these -night excursions and wished it were being employed in some quarter -where it was more likely to be appreciated. Her only consolation was -that so mild a lady was not likely to make inordinate demands upon him -or pester him with jealousies and exactions. On the other hand, she -was rather worried about the princess. ‘What’ thought Myōbu, ‘if she -should fall in love with him and her heart be broken merely because I -was frightened of getting scolded?’</p> - -<p>Remembering her rank and upbringing, he was far from expecting her to -behave with the lively pertness of an up-to-date miss. She would be -langorous; yes, langorous and passionate. When, half-pushed by Myōbu, -the princess at last took her stand near the partition where she was -to converse with her visitor, a delicious scent of sandal-wood<a id="FNanchor_VI_5" href="#Footnote_VI_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> -invaded his nostrils, and this piece of coquetry at once raised <span class="pagenum"><i>{193}</i></span> -his hopes. He began to tell her with great earnestness and eloquence -how for almost a year she had continually occupied his thoughts. But -not a word did she answer; talking to her was no better than writing! -Irritated beyond measure he recited the verse: ‘If with a Vow of -Silence thus ten times and again my combat I renew, ’tis that against -me at least no sentence of muteness has been passed.’ ‘Speak at least -one word of dismissal,’ he continued; ‘do not leave me in this -bewilderment.’ There was among her ladies one called Jijū, the -daughter of her old nurse. Being a girl of great liveliness and -intelligence she could not bear to see her mistress cutting such a -figure as this and stepping to her side she answered with the poem: -‘The bell<a id="FNanchor_VI_6" href="#Footnote_VI_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> had sounded and for a moment silence was imposed upon my -lips. To have kept you waiting grieves me, and there let the matter -rest.’ She said the words in such a way that Genji was completely -taken in and thought it was the princess who had thus readily answered -his poem. He had not expected such smartness from an aristocratic lady -of the old school; but the surprise was agreeable and he answered: -‘Madam, you have won the day,’ adding the verse: ‘Though well I know -that thoughts unspoken count more than thoughts expressed, yet -dumb-crambo is not a cheering game to play.’</p> - -<p>He went on to speak of one trifle or another as it occurred to him, -doing his very best to entertain her; but it was no use. Thinking at -last that silence might after all in this strange creature be merely a -sign of deep emotion he could no longer restrain his curiosity and, -easily pushing back the bolted door, entered the room. Myōbu, seeing -with consternation that he had falsified all her assurances, thought -it better to know nothing of what followed and without turning her -head rushed away to her own apartments. <span class="pagenum"><i>{194}</i></span> Jijū and the other -ladies-in-waiting had heard so much about Genji and were so anxious to -catch sight of him that they were more than ready to forgive his -uncivil intrusion. Their only fear was that their mistress would be at -a loss how to deal with so unexpected a situation. He did indeed find -her in the last extremity of bashfulness and embarrassment, but under -the circumstances that, thought Genji, was natural. Much was to be -explained by the strict seclusion in which she had been brought up. He -must be patient with her....</p> - -<p>As his eyes grew used to the dim light he began to see that she was -not at all beautiful. Had she then not one quality at all to justify -all these hopes and schemes? Apparently not one. It was late. What was -the use of staying? Bitterly disappointed he left the house. Myōbu, -intensely curious to know what would happen, had lain awake listening. -She wanted however to keep up the pretence that she had not witnessed -Genji’s intrusion and though she plainly heard him leaving the house -she did not go to see him off or utter a sound of any kind. Stealing -away as quietly as possible he returned to the Nijō-in and lay down -upon his bed. This time at least he thought he was on the right path. -What a disillusionment! And the worst of it was that she was a -princess, a great lady. What a mess he was in! So he lay thinking, -when Tō no Chūjō entered the room. ‘How late you are!’ he cried; ‘I -can easily guess the reason.’ Genji rose: ‘I was so comfortable -sleeping here all alone that I overslept myself,’ he said. ‘Have you -come here from the Palace?’ ‘Yes,’ said Chūjō, ‘I was on my way home. -I heard yesterday that to-day they are choosing the dancers and -musicians for the celebrations of the Emperor’s visit to the Suzaku-in -and I am going home to tell my father of this. I will look in here on -my way back.’ Seeing that Chūjō was in a hurry Genji said that he <span class="pagenum"><i>{195}</i></span> -would go with him to the Great Hall. He sent at once for his -breakfast, bidding them also serve the guest. Two carriages were drawn -up waiting for them, but they both got into the same one. ‘You still -seem very sleepy,’ said Chūjō in an aggrieved tone; ‘I am sure you -have been doing something interesting that you do not want to tell me -about.’</p> - -<p>That day he had a number of important duties to perform and was hard -at work in the Palace till nightfall. It did not occur to him till a -very late hour that he ought at least to send the customary letter. It -was raining. Myōbu had only the day before reproached him for using -the princess’s palace as a ‘wayside refuge.’ To-day however he had no -inclination whatever to halt there.</p> - -<p>When hour after hour went by and still no letter came Myōbu began to -feel very sorry for the princess whom she imagined to be suffering -acutely from Genji’s incivility. But in reality the poor lady was -still far too occupied with shame and horror at what had happened the -night before to think of anything else, and when late in the evening -Genji’s note at last arrived she could not understand in the least -what it meant. It began with the poem: ‘Scarce had the evening mist -lifted and revealed the prospect to my sight when the night rain -closed gloomily about me.’ ‘I shall watch with impatience for a sign -that the clouds are breaking,’ the letter continued. The ladies of the -household at once saw with consternation the meaning of this note: -Genji did not intend ever to come again. But they were all agreed that -an answer must be sent, and their mistress was for the time being in -far too overwrought a condition to put brush to paper; so Jijū -(pointing out that it was late and there was no time to be lost) again -came to the rescue: ‘Give a thought to the country folk who wait for -moonlight on this cloudy night, though, while they gaze, so different -their thoughts <span class="pagenum"><i>{196}</i></span> from yours!’ This she dictated to her mistress -who, under the joint direction of all her ladies, wrote it upon a -piece of paper which had once been purple but was now faded and -shabby. Her writing was coarse and stiff, very mediocre in style, the -upward and downward strokes being of the same thickness. Genji laid it -aside scarcely glancing at it; but he was very much worried by the -situation. How should he avoid hurting her feelings? Such an affair -was certain to get him into trouble of some kind. What was he to do? -He made up his mind that at all costs he must go on seeing her. -Meanwhile, knowing nothing of this decision, the poor lady was very -unhappy.</p> - -<p>That night his father-in-law called for him on the way back from the -Palace and carried him off to the Great Hall.</p> - -<p>Here in preparation for the coming festival all the young princes were -gathered together, and during the days which followed everyone was -busy practising the songs or dances which had been assigned to him. -Never had the Great Hall resounded with such a continual flow of -music. The recorder and the big flute were all the while in full -blast; and even the big drum was rolled out on to the verandah, the -younger princes amusing themselves by experimenting upon it. Genji was -so busy that he had barely time to pay an occasional surreptitious -visit even to his dearest friends, and the autumn passed without his -returning to the Hitachi Palace. The princess could not make it out.</p> - -<p>Just at the time when the music-practices were at their height Myōbu -came to see him. Her account of the princess’s condition was very -distressing. ‘It is sad to witness day by day as I do how the poor -lady suffers from your unkind treatment,’ she said and almost wept as -she told him about it. He was doubly embarrassed. What must Myōbu be -thinking of him since she found out that he had so recklessly -falsified all the assurances of good behaviour that she had <span class="pagenum"><i>{197}</i></span> made -on his account? And then the princess herself.... He could imagine -what a pathetic figure she must be, dumbly buried in her own -despondent thoughts and questionings. ‘Please make it clear to her’ he -said, ‘that I have been extremely busy; that is really the sole reason -that I have not visited her.’ But he added with a sigh ‘I hope soon to -have a chance of teaching her not to be quite so stiff and shy.’ He -smiled as he said it, and because he was so young and charming Myōbu -somehow felt that despite her indignation she must smile too. At his -age it was inevitable that he should cause a certain amount of -suffering. Suddenly it seemed to her perfectly right that he should do -as he felt inclined without thinking much about the consequences. When -the busy festival time was over he did indeed pay several visits to -the Hitachi Palace, but then followed his adoption of little Murasaki -whose ways so entranced him that he became very irregular even in his -visits to the Sixth Ward;<a id="FNanchor_VI_7" href="#Footnote_VI_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> still less had he any inclination, though -he felt as sorry for the princess as ever, to visit that desolate -palace. For a long while he had no desire to probe the secret of her -bashfulness, to drive her into the light of day. But at last the idea -occurred to him that he had perhaps all the while been mistaken. It -was only a vague impression gathered in a room so dark that one could -hardly see one’s hand in front of one’s face. If only he could -persuade her to let him see her properly? But she seemed frightened to -submit herself to the ordeal of daylight. Accordingly one night when -he knew that he should catch her household quite at its ease he crept -in unobserved and peeped through a gap in the door of the women’s -apartments. The princess herself was not visible. There was a very -dilapidated screen-of-honour at the end of the room, but it looked as -if it had not been moved from where it stood for years and years. <span class="pagenum"><i>{198}</i></span> -Four or five elderly gentlewomen were in the room. They were preparing -their mistress’s supper in Chinese vessels which looked like the -famous ‘royal blue’ ware,<a id="FNanchor_VI_8" href="#Footnote_VI_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> but they were much damaged and the food -which had been provided seemed quite unworthy of these precious -dishes. The old ladies soon retired, presumably to have their own -supper. In a closet opening out of the main road he could see a very -chilly-looking lady in an incredibly smoke-stained white dress and -dirty apron tied at the waist. Despite this shabbiness, her hair was -done over a comb in the manner of Court servants in ancient days when -they waited at their master’s table, though it hung down untidily. He -had sometimes seen figures such as this haunting the housekeeper’s -rooms in the Palace, but he had no idea that they could still actually -be seen waiting upon a living person! ‘O dear, O dear,’ cried the lady -in the apron, ‘what a cold winter we are having! It was not worth -living so long only to meet times like these,’ and she shed a tear. -‘If only things had but gone on as they were in the old Prince’s -time!’ she moaned. ‘What a change! No discipline, no authority. To -think that I should have lived to see such days!’ and she quivered -with horror like one who ‘were he a bird would take wing and fly -away.’<a id="FNanchor_VI_9" href="#Footnote_VI_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> She went on to pour out such a pitiful tale of things gone -awry that Genji could bear it no longer, and pretending that he had -just arrived tapped at the partition-door. With many exclamations of -surprise the old lady brought a candle and let him in. Unfortunately -Jijū had been chosen with other young persons to wait upon the Vestal -Virgin and was not at home. Her absence made the house seem more -rustic and old-fashioned than ever, and its oddity struck him even -more forcibly than before.</p> - -<p>The melancholy snow was now falling faster and faster. <span class="pagenum"><i>{199}</i></span> Dark -clouds hung in the sky, the wind blew fierce and wild. The big lamp -had burnt out and it seemed to be no one’s business to light it. He -remembered the terrible night upon which Yūgao had been bewitched. The -house indeed was almost as dilapidated. But it was not quite so large -and was (to Genji’s comfort) at least to some small degree inhabited. -Nevertheless it was a depressing place to spend the night at in such -weather as this. Yet the snow-storm had a beauty and fascination of -its own and it was tiresome that the lady whom he had come to visit -was far too stiff and awkward to join him in appreciating its -wildness. The dawn was just breaking and lifting one of the shutters -with his own hand, he looked out at the snow-covered flower-beds. -Beyond them stretched great fields of snow untrodden by any foot. The -sight was very strange and lovely, and moved by the thought that he -must soon leave it: ‘Come and look how beautiful it is out of doors,’ -he cried to the princess who was in an inner room. ‘It is unkind of -you always to treat me as though I were a stranger.’ Although it was -still dark the light of the snow enabled the ancient gentlewomen who -had now returned to the room to see the freshness and beauty of -Genji’s face. Gazing at him with undisguised wonder and delight, they -cried out to their mistress: ‘Yes, madam, indeed you must come. You -are not behaving as you should. A young lady should be all kindness -and pretty ways.’ Thus admonished, the princess who when told what to -do could never think of any reasons for not doing it, giving her -costume a touch here and there reluctantly crept into the front room. -Genji pretended to be still looking out of the window, but presently -he managed to glance back into the room. His first impression was that -her manner, had it been a little less diffident, would have been -extremely pleasing. What an absurd mistake he had made. She was -certainly very tall as was shown by the <span class="pagenum"><i>{200}</i></span> length of her back when -she took her seat; he could hardly believe that such a back could -belong to a woman. A moment afterwards he suddenly became aware of her -main defect. It was her nose. He could not help looking at it. It -reminded him of the trunk of Samantabhadra’s<a id="FNanchor_VI_10" href="#Footnote_VI_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> steed! Not only was -it amazingly prominent, but (strangest of all) the tip which drooped -downwards a little was tinged with pink, contrasting in the oddest -manner with the rest of her complexion which was of a whiteness that -would have put snow to shame. Her forehead was unusually high, so that -altogether (though this was partly concealed by the forward tilt of -her head) her face must be hugely long. She was very thin, her bones -showing in the most painful manner, particularly her shoulder-bones -which jutted out pitiably above her dress. He was sorry now that he -had exacted from her this distressing exhibition, but so extraordinary -a spectacle did she provide that he could not help continuing to gaze -upon her. In one point at least she yielded nothing to the greatest -beauties of the Capital. Her hair was magnificent; she was wearing it -loose and it hung a foot or more below the skirt of her gown. A -complete description of people’s costumes is apt to be tedious, but as -in stories the first thing that is said about the characters is -invariably <em>what they wore</em>, I shall once in a way attempt such a -description. Over a terribly faded bodice of imperial purple she wore -a gown of which the purple had turned definitely black with age. Her -mantle was of sable-skins heavily perfumed with scent. Such a garment -as this mantle was considered very smart several generations ago, but -it struck him as the most extraordinary costume for a comparatively -young girl. However as a matter of fact she looked as though without -this monstrous wrapping she <span class="pagenum"><i>{201}</i></span> would perish with cold and he could -not help feeling sorry for her. As usual she seemed quite devoid of -conversation and her silence ended by depriving Genji also of the -power of speech. He felt however that he must try again to conquer her -religious muteness and began making a string of casual remarks. -Overcome with embarrassment she hid her face with her sleeve. This -attitude, together with her costume, reminded him so forcibly of queer -pompous old officials whom he had sometimes seen walking at funeral -pace in state processions, hugging their emblems of office to their -breasts, that he could not help laughing. This he felt to be very -rude. Really he was very sorry for her and longing to put a quick end -to her embarrassment he rose to go. ‘Till I began to look after you -there was no one in whom you could possibly have confided. But -henceforward I think you must make up your mind to be frank with me -and tell me all your secrets. Your stern aloofness is very painful to -me,’ and he recited the verse: ‘Already the icicle that hangs from the -eaves is melting in the rays of the morning sun. How comes it that -these drippings to new ice should turn?’ At this she tittered -slightly. Finding her inability to express herself quite unendurable -he left the house. Even in the dim light of early morning he noticed -that the courtyard gate at which his carriage awaited him was shaky on -its posts and much askew; daylight, he was sure, would have revealed -many other signs of dilapidation and neglect. In all the desolate -landscape which stretched monotonously before him under the bleak -light of dawn only the thick mantle of snow which covered the -pine-trees gave a note of comfort and almost of warmth.</p> - -<p>Surely it was such a place as this, sombre as a little village in the -hills, that his friends had thought of on that rainy night when they -had spoken of the gate ‘deep buried in green thickets.’ If only there -were really hidden behind <span class="pagenum"><i>{202}</i></span> <em>these</em> walls some such exquisite -creature as they had imagined. How patiently, how tenderly he would -court her! He longed for some experience which would bring him respite -from the anguish with which a certain hopeless and illicit passion was -at that time tormenting him. Alas, no one could have been less likely -to bring him the longed-for distraction than the owner of this -romantic mansion. Yet the very fact that she had nothing to recommend -her made it impossible for him to give her up, for it was certain that -no one else would ever take the trouble to visit her. But why, why had -it fallen to him of all people to become her intimate? Had the spirit -of the departed Prince Hitachi, unhappy at the girl’s friendless -plight, chosen him out and led him to her?</p> - -<p>At the side of the road he noticed a little orange-tree almost buried -in snow. He ordered one of his attendants to uncover it. As though -jealous of the attention that the man was paying to its neighbour a -pine-tree near by shook its heavily laden branches, pouring great -billows of snow over his sleeve. Delighted with the scene Genji -suddenly longed for some companion with whom he might share this -pleasure; not necessarily someone who loved such things as he did, but -one who at least responded to them in an ordinary way.</p> - -<p>The gate through which his carriage had to pass in order to leave -the grounds was still locked. When at last the man who kept the -key had been discovered he turned out to be immensely old and feeble. -With him was a big, awkward girl who seemed to be his daughter or -grand-daughter. Her dress looked very grimy in contrast with the new -snow amid which she was standing. She seemed to be suffering very much -from the cold, for she was hugging a little brazier of some kind with -a stick or two of charcoal burning none too brightly in it. The old -man had not the strength to push back the door, and the girl was -dragging at it as well. <span class="pagenum"><i>{203}</i></span> Taking pity on them one of Genji’s -servants went to their assistance and quickly opened it. Genji -remembered the poem in which Po Chü-i describes the sufferings of -villagers in wintry weather and he murmured the lines ‘The little -children run naked in the cold; the aged shiver for lack of winter -clothes.’ All at once he remembered the chilly appearance which that -unhappy bloom had given to the princess’s face and he could not help -smiling. If ever he were able to show her to Tō no Chūjō, what strange -comparison, he wondered, would Chūjō use concerning it? He remembered -how Chūjō had followed him on the first occasion. Had he continued to -do so? Perhaps even at this minute he was under observation. The -thought irritated him.</p> - -<p>Had her defects been less striking he could not possibly have -continued these distressing visits. But since he had actually seen her -in all her tragic uncouthness pity gained the upper hand, and -henceforward he kept in constant touch with her and showed her every -kindness. In the hope that she would abandon her sables he sent her -presents of silk, satin and quilted stuffs. He also sent thick cloth -such as old people wear, that the old man at the gate might be more -comfortably dressed. Indeed he sent presents to everyone on the estate -from the highest to the lowest. She did not seem to have any objection -to receiving these donations, which under the circumstances was very -convenient as it enabled him for the most part to limit their very -singular friendship to good offices of this kind.</p> - -<p>Utsusemi too, he remembered, had seemed to him far from handsome when -he had peeped at her on the evening of her sudden flight. But she at -least knew how to behave and that saved her plainness from being -obtrusive. It was hard to believe that the princess belonged to a -class so far above that of Utsusemi. It only showed how little these -<span class="pagenum"><i>{204}</i></span> things have to do with birth or station. For in idle moments he -still regretted the loss of Utsusemi and it rankled in him yet that he -had in the end allowed her unyielding persistency to win the day.</p> - -<p>And so the year drew to its close. One day when he was at his -apartments in the Emperor’s Palace, Myōbu came to see him. He liked to -have her to do his hair and do small commissions for him. He was not -in the least in love with her; but they got on very well together and -he found her conversation so amusing that even when she had no duty to -perform at the Palace he encouraged her to come and see him whenever -she had any news. ‘Something so absurd has happened’ she said, ‘that I -can hardly bring myself to tell you about it ...,’ and she paused -smiling. ‘I can hardly think,’ answered Genji, ‘that there can be -anything which you are frightened of telling to me.’ ‘If it were -connected with my own affairs,’ she said, ‘you know quite well that I -should tell you at once. But this is something quite different. I -really find it very hard to talk about.’ For a long while he could get -nothing out of her, and only after he had scolded her for making so -unnecessary a fuss she at last handed him a letter. It was from the -princess. ‘But this,’ said Genji taking it, ‘is the last thing in the -world that you could have any reason to hide from me.’ She watched -with interest while he read it. It was written on thick paper drenched -with a strong perfume; the characters were bold and firm. With it was -a poem: ‘Because of your hard heart, your hard heart only, the sleeves -of this my Chinese dress are drenched with tears.’ The poem must, he -thought, refer to something not contained in the letter.</p> - -<p>He was considering what this could be, when his eye fell on a clumsy, -old-fashioned clothes-box wrapped in a painted canvas cover. ‘Now’ -said Myōbu, ‘perhaps you <span class="pagenum"><i>{205}</i></span> understand why I was feeling rather -uncomfortable. You may not believe it, but the princess means you to -wear this jacket on New Year’s Day. I am afraid I cannot take it back -to her; that would be too unkind. But if you like I will keep it for -you and no one else shall see it. Only please, since it was to you -that she sent, just have one look at it before it goes away.’ ‘But I -should hate it to go away,’ said Genji; ‘I think it was so kind of her -to send it.’ It was difficult to know what to say. Her poem was indeed -the most unpleasant jangle of syllables that he had ever encountered. -He now realized that the other poems must have been dictated to her, -perhaps by Jijū or one of the other ladies. And Jijū too it must -surely be who held the princess’s brush and acted as writing-master. -When he considered what her utmost poetic endeavour would be likely to -produce he realized that these absurd verses were probably her -masterpiece and should be prized accordingly. He began to examine the -parcel; Myōbu blushed while she watched him. It was a plain, -old-fashioned, buff-coloured jacket of finely woven material, but -apparently not particularly well cut or stitched. It was indeed a -strange present, and spreading out her letter he wrote something -carelessly in the margin. When Myōbu looked over his shoulder she saw -that he had written the verse: ‘How comes it that with my sleeve I -brushed this saffron-flower<a id="FNanchor_VI_11" href="#Footnote_VI_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> that has no loveliness either of shape -or hue?’</p> - -<p>What, wondered Myōbu, could be the meaning of this outburst against a -flower? At last turning over in her mind the various occasions when -Genji had visited the princess she remembered something<a id="FNanchor_VI_12" href="#Footnote_VI_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> which she -had herself noticed one moonlit night, and though she felt the joke -was rather unkind, she could not help being amused. With practised -<span class="pagenum"><i>{206}</i></span> ease she threw out a verse in which she warned him that in the -eyes of a censorious world even this half-whimsical courtship might -fatally damage his good name. Her impromptu poem was certainly faulty; -but Genji reflected that if the poor princess had even Myōbu’s very -ordinary degree of alertness it would make things much easier; and it -was quite true that to tamper with a lady of such high rank was not -very safe.</p> - -<p>At this point visitors began to arrive. ‘Please put this somewhere out -of sight,’ said Genji pointing to the jacket; ‘could one have believed -that it was possible to be presented with such an object?’ and he -groaned. ‘Oh why ever did I show it to him?’ thought Myōbu. ‘The only -result is that now he will be angry with me as well as with the -princess,’ and in very low spirits she slipped out of his apartments.</p> - -<p>Next day she was in attendance upon the Emperor and while she was -waiting with other gentlewomen in the ladies’ common-room Genji came -up saying: ‘Here you are. The answer to yesterday’s letter. I am -afraid it is rather far-fetched,’ and he flung a note to her. The -curiosity of the other gentlewomen was violently aroused. Genji left -the room humming ‘The Lady of Mikasa Hill,’<a id="FNanchor_VI_13" href="#Footnote_VI_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> which naturally amused -Myōbu very much. The other ladies wanted to know why the prince was -laughing to himself. Was there some joke...? ‘Oh, no,’ said Myōbu; ‘I -think it was only that he had noticed someone whose nose was a little -red with the morning cold. The song he hummed was surely very -appropriate.’ ‘I think it was very silly,’ said one of the ladies. -‘There is no one here to-day with a red nose. He must be thinking of -Lady Sakon or Higo no Uneme.’ They were completely mystified. When -<span class="pagenum"><i>{207}</i></span> Myōbu presented Genji’s reply, the ladies of the Hitachi Palace -gathered round her to admire it. It was written negligently on plain -white paper but was none the less very elegant. ‘Does your gift of a -garment mean that you wish a greater distance than ever to be kept -between us?’<a id="FNanchor_VI_14" href="#Footnote_VI_14" class="fnanchor">14</a></p> - -<p>On the evening of the last day of the year he sent back the box which -had contained his jacket, putting into it a court dress which had -formerly been presented to him, a dress of woven stuff dyed -grape-colour and various stuffs of yellow-rose colour and the like. -The box was brought by Myōbu. The princess’s ancient gentlewomen -realized that Genji did not approve of their mistress’s taste in -colours and wished to give her a lesson. ‘Yes,’ they said grudgingly, -‘that’s a fine deep red while its new, but just think how it will -fade. And in Madam’s poem too, I am sure, there was much more good -sense. In his answer he only tries to be smart.’ The princess shared -their good opinion of her poem. It had cost her a great deal of effort -and before she sent it she had been careful to copy it into her -note-book.</p> - -<p>Then came the New Year’s Day celebrations; and this year there was -also to be the New Year’s mumming, a band of young noblemen going -round dancing and singing in various parts of the Palace. After the -festival of the White Horse on the seventh day Genji left the -Emperor’s presence at nightfall and went to his own apartments in the -Palace as though intending to stay the night there. But later he -adjourned to the Hitachi Palace which had on this occasion a less -forbidding appearance than usual. Even the princess was rather more -ordinary and amenable. He was hoping that like the season she too had -begun anew, when he saw that sunlight was coming into the room. After -hesitating for a while, he got up and went out into the front room. The -<span class="pagenum"><i>{208}</i></span> double doors at the end of the eastern wing were wide open, and -the roof of the verandah having fallen in, the sunshine poured -straight into the house. A little snow was still falling and its -brightness made the morning light yet more exquisitely brilliant and -sparkling. She watched a servant helping him into his cloak. She was -lying half out of the bed, her head hanging a little downwards and her -hair falling in great waves to the floor. Pleased with the sight he -began to wonder whether she would not one day outgrow her plainness. -He began to close the door of the women’s apartments, but suddenly -feeling that he owed her amends for the harsh opinion of her -appearance which he had formed before, he did not quite shut the door, -but bringing a low stool towards it sat there putting his disordered -head-dress to rights. One of the maids brought him an incredibly -battered mirror-stand, Chinese combs, a box of toilet articles and -other things. It amused him to discover that in this household of -women a little male gear still survived, even in so decrepit a state.</p> - -<p>He noticed that the princess, who was now up and dressed, was looking -quite fashionable. She was in fact wearing the clothes which he had -sent her before the New Year, but he did not at first recognize them. -He began however to have a vague idea that her mantle, with its rather -conspicuous pattern, was very like one of the things he had given her. -‘I do hope,’ he said presently, ‘that this year you will be a little -more conversational. I await the day when you will unbend a little -towards me more eagerly than the poet longs for the first nightingale. -If only like the year that has changed you too would begin anew!’ Her -face brightened. She had thought of a remark and trembling from head -to foot with a tremendous effort she brought out the quotation ‘When -plovers chirp and all things grow anew.’ ‘Splendid,’ said Genji, ‘This -is a sign that the new year has indeed <span class="pagenum"><i>{209}</i></span> begun’ and smiling -encouragingly at her he left the house, she following him with her -eyes from the couch on which she lay. Her face as usual was half -covered by her arm; but the unfortunate flower still bloomed -conspicuously. ‘Poor thing, she really <em>is</em> very ugly,’ thought Genji -in despair.</p> - -<p>When he returned to the Nijō-in he found Murasaki waiting for him. She -was growing up as handsome a girl as one could wish, and promised well -for the future. She was wearing a plain close-fitting dress of cherry -colour; above all, the unstudied grace and ease of her movements -charmed and delighted him as he watched her come to meet him. In -accordance with the wishes of her old-fashioned grandmother her teeth -were not blackened, but her eyebrows were delicately touched with -stain. ‘Why, when I might be playing with a beautiful child, do I -spend my time with an ugly woman? ‘Genji kept on asking himself in -bewilderment while they sat together playing with her dolls. Next she -began to draw pictures and colour them. After she had painted all -sorts of queer and amusing things, ‘Now I am going to do a picture for -you,’ said Genji and drawing a lady with very long hair he put a dab -of red on her nose. Even in a picture, he thought pausing to look at -the effect, it gave one a most uncomfortable feeling. He went and -looked at himself in the mirror and as though dissatisfied with his -own fresh complexion he suddenly put on his own nose a dab of red such -as he had given to the lady in the picture. He looked at himself in -the mirror. His handsome face had in an instant become ridiculous and -repulsive. At first the child laughed. ‘Should you go on liking me if -I were always as ugly as this?’ he asked. Suddenly she began to be -afraid that the paint would not come off. ‘Oh why did you do it?’ she -cried. ‘How horrible!’ He pretended to rub it without effect. ‘No,’ he -said ruefully, ‘it will not come off. What a sad end to our game! I -<span class="pagenum"><i>{210}</i></span> wonder what the Emperor will say when I go back to the Palace?’ -He said it so seriously that she became very unhappy, and longing to -cure him dipped a piece of thick soft paper in the water-jug which -stood by his writing-things, and began scrubbing at his nose. ‘Take -care,’ he cried laughing, ‘that you do not serve me as Heichū<a id="FNanchor_VI_15" href="#Footnote_VI_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> was -treated by his lady. I would rather have a red nose than a black one.’ -So they passed their time, making the prettiest couple.</p> - -<p>In the gentle spring sunshine the trees were already shimmering with a -haze of new-grown buds. Among them it was the plum-trees that gave the -surest promise, for already their blossoms were uncurling, like lips -parted in a faint smile. Earliest of them all was a red plum that grew -beside the covered steps. It was in full colour. ‘Though fair the tree -on which it blooms, this red flower fills me with a strange -misgiving,’<a id="FNanchor_VI_16" href="#Footnote_VI_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> sang Genji with a deep sigh.</p> - -<p>We shall see in the next chapter what happened in the end to all these -people.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_1" href="#FNanchor_VI_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> The events of this chapter are synchronous with those of the last. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_2" href="#FNanchor_VI_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> Wine, zithern and song—in allusion to a poem by Po Chü-i. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_3" href="#FNanchor_VI_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> Evidently a quotation. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_4" href="#FNanchor_VI_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> Chūjō’s child by Yūgao. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_5" href="#FNanchor_VI_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> Used to scent clothes with. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_6" href="#FNanchor_VI_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> The bell which the Zen-master strikes when it is time for his pupils -to fall into silent meditation. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_7" href="#FNanchor_VI_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> To Lady Rokujō. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_8" href="#FNanchor_VI_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> <i>Pi-sē</i>. See Hetherington, <cite>Early Ceramic Wares of China</cite>, -pp. 71–73. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_9" href="#FNanchor_VI_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> <cite>Manyōshū</cite>, 893. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_10" href="#FNanchor_VI_10" class="fnanchor">10</a>The Bodhisattva Samantabhadra rides on a white elephant with a red -trunk. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_11" href="#FNanchor_VI_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> <i>Suyetsumuhana</i>, by which name, the princess is subsequently -alluded to in the story. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_12" href="#FNanchor_VI_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> I.e. the redness of the princess’s nose. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_13" href="#FNanchor_VI_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> A popular song about a lady who suffered from the same defect as -the princess. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_14" href="#FNanchor_VI_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> Genji’s poem is an allusion to a well-known <i>uta</i> which runs: -‘Must we who once would not allow even the thickness of a garment to -part us be now far from each other for whole nights on end?’ -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_15" href="#FNanchor_VI_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> He used to splash his cheeks with water from a little bottle in -order that she might think he was weeping at her unkindness. She -exposed this device by mixing ink with the water. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VI_16" href="#FNanchor_VI_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> The reference of course is to the princess. ‘Though fair the -tree’ refers to her high birth. -</div> - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_211"><i>{211}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br /> -<span class="larger">THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE imperial visit to the Red Sparrow Court was to take place on the -tenth day of the Godless Month. It was to be a more magnificent sight -this year than it had ever been before and the ladies of the Palace -were very disappointed that they could not be present.<a id="FNanchor_VII_1" href="#Footnote_VII_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> The Emperor -too could not bear that Fujitsubo should miss the spectacle, and he -decided to hold a grand rehearsal in the Palace. Prince Genji danced -the ‘Waves of the Blue Sea.’ Tō no Chūjō was his partner; but though -both in skill and beauty he far surpassed the common run of -performers, yet beside Genji he seemed like a mountain fir growing -beside a cherry-tree in bloom. There was a wonderful moment when the -rays of the setting sun fell upon him and the music grew suddenly -louder. Never had the onlookers seen feet tread so delicately nor head -so exquisitely poised; and in the song which follows the first -movement of the dance his voice was sweet as that of Kalavinka<a id="FNanchor_VII_2" href="#Footnote_VII_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> -whose music is Buddha’s Law. So moving and beautiful was this dance -that at the end of it the Emperor’s eyes were wet, and all the princes -and great gentlemen wept aloud. When the song was over and, -straightening his long dancer’s sleeves, he stood waiting for the -music to begin again and at last the more lively tune of the second -movement struck up,—then indeed, <span class="pagenum"><i>{212}</i></span> with his flushed and eager face, -he merited more than ever his name of Genji the Shining One. The -Princess Kōkiden<a id="FNanchor_VII_3" href="#Footnote_VII_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> did not at all like to see her step-son’s beauty -arousing so much enthusiasm and she said sarcastically ‘He is -altogether too beautiful. Presently we shall have a god coming down -from the sky to fetch him away.’<a id="FNanchor_VII_4" href="#Footnote_VII_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> Her young waiting-ladies noticed -the spiteful tone in which the remark was made and felt somewhat -embarrassed. As for Fujitsubo, she kept on telling herself that were -it not for the guilty secret which was shared between them the dance -she was now witnessing would be filling her with wonder and delight. -As it was, she sat as though in a dream, hardly knowing what went on -around her.</p> - -<p>Now she was back in her own room. The Emperor was with her. ‘At -to-day’s rehearsal’ he said, ‘The “Waves of the Blue Sea” went -perfectly.’ Then, noticing that she made no response, ‘What did you -think of it?’ ‘Yes, it was very good,’ she managed to say at last. -‘The partner did not seem to me bad either,’ he went on; ‘there is -always something about the way a gentleman moves and uses his hands -which distinguishes his dancing from that of professionals. Some of -our crack dancing-masters have certainly made very clever performers -of their own children; but they never have the same freshness, the -same charm as the young people of our class. They expended so much -effort on the rehearsal that I am afraid the festival itself may seem -a very poor affair. No doubt they took all this trouble because they -knew that you were here at the rehearsal and would not see the real -performance.’</p> - -<p>Next morning she received a letter from Genji: ‘What of the rehearsal? -How little the people who watched me knew of the turmoil that all -the while was seething in my brain!’ <span class="pagenum"><i>{213}</i></span> And to this he added the -poem: ‘When sick with love I yet sprang to my feet and capered -with the rest, knew you what meant the fevered waving of my long -dancing-sleeve?’ Next he enjoined secrecy and prudence upon her, and -so his letter ended. Her answer showed that despite her agitation she -had not been wholly insensible to what had fascinated all other eyes: -‘Though from far off a man of China waved his long dancing-sleeves, -yet did his every motion fill my heart with wonder and delight.’</p> - -<p>To receive such a letter from her was indeed a surprise. It charmed -him that her knowledge should extend even to the Court customs of a -land beyond the sea. Already there was a regal note in her words. Yes, -that was the end to which she was destined. Smiling to himself with -pleasure he spread the letter out before him, grasping it tightly in -both hands as a priest holds the holy book, and gazed at it for a long -while.</p> - -<p>On the day of the festival the royal princes and all the great -gentlemen of the Court were in attendance. Even the Heir Apparent went -with the procession. After the music-boats had rowed round the lake -dance upon dance was performed, both Korean and of the land beyond the -sea. The whole valley resounded with the noise of music and drums. The -Emperor insisted upon treating Genji’s performance at the rehearsal as -a kind of miracle or religious portent, and ordered special services -to be read in every temple. Most people thought this step quite -reasonable; but Princess Kōkiden said crossly that she saw no -necessity for it. The Ring<a id="FNanchor_VII_5" href="#Footnote_VII_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> was by the Emperor’s order composed -indifferently of commoners and noblemen chosen out of the whole realm -for their skill and grace. The two Masters of Ceremony, Sayemon no -Kami and Uyemon no Kami, were <span class="pagenum"><i>{214}</i></span> in charge of the left and right -wings of the orchestra. Dancing-masters and others were entrusted with -the task of seeking out performers of unusual merit and training them -for the festival in their own houses. When at last under the red -leafage of tall autumn trees forty men stood circle-wise with their -flutes and to the music that they made a strong wind from the hills -sweeping the pine-woods added its fierce harmonies, while from amid a -wreckage of whirling and scattered leaves the Dance of the Blue Waves -suddenly broke out in all its glittering splendour,—a rapture seized -the onlookers that was akin to fear.</p> - -<p>The maple-wreath that Genji wore had suffered in the wind and thinking -that the few red leaves which clung to it had a desolate air the -Minister of the Left<a id="FNanchor_VII_6" href="#Footnote_VII_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> plucked a bunch of chrysanthemums from among -those that grew before the Emperor’s seat and twined them in the -dancer’s wreath.</p> - -<p>At sunset the sky clouded over and it looked like rain. But even the -weather seemed conscious that such sights as this would not for a long -while be seen again, and till all was over not a drop fell. His Exit -Dance, crowned as he was with this unspeakably beautiful wreath of -many coloured flowers, was even more astonishing than that wonderful -moment on the day of the rehearsal and seemed to the thrilled -onlookers like the vision of another world. Humble and ignorant folk -sitting afar on tree-roots or beneath some rock, or half-buried in -deep banks of fallen leaves—few were so hardened that they did not -shed a tear. Next came the ‘Autumn Wind’ danced by Lady Jōkyōden’s -son<a id="FNanchor_VII_7" href="#Footnote_VII_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> who was still a mere child. The remaining performances -attracted little attention, for the audience had had its fill of -wonders and felt that whatever followed could but spoil the -recollection of what had gone before.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{215}</i></span></p> - -<p>That night Genji was promoted to the First Class of the Third Rank and -Tō no Chūjō was promoted to intermediate standing between the First -and Second Classes of the Fourth Rank. The gentlemen of the court were -all promoted one rank. But though they celebrated their good fortune -with the usual rejoicings they were well aware that they had only been -dragged in Genji’s wake and wondered how it was that their destinies -had come to be linked in this curious way with those of the prince who -had brought them this unexpected piece of good fortune.</p> - -<p>Fujitsubo now retired to her own house and Genji, waiting about for a -chance of visiting her, was seldom at the Great Hall and was -consequently in very ill odour there. It was soon after this that he -brought the child Murasaki to live with him. Aoi heard a rumour of -this, but it reached her merely in the form that someone was living -with him at his palace and she did not know that it was a child. Under -these circumstances it was quite natural that she should feel much -aggrieved. But if only she had flown into an honest passion and abused -him for it as most people would have done, he would have told her -everything and put matters right. As it was, she only redoubled her -icy aloofness and thus led him to seek those very distractions of -which it was intended as a rebuke. Not only was her beauty so flawless -that it could not fail to win his admiration, but also the mere fact -that he had known her since so long ago, before all the rest, made him -feel towards her a tenderness of which she seemed quite unaware. He -was convinced however that her nature was not at bottom narrow and -vindictive, and this gave him some hope that she would one day relent.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile as he got to know little Murasaki better he became the more -content both with her appearance and her character. She at least gave -him her whole heart. For the present he did not intend to reveal her -identity even to the <span class="pagenum"><i>{216}</i></span> servants in his own palace. She continued to -use the somewhat outlying western wing which had now been put into -excellent order, and here Genji constantly came to see her. He gave -her all kinds of lessons, writing exercises for her to copy and -treating her in every way as though she were a little daughter who had -been brought up by foster-parents, but had now come to live with him. -He chose her servants with great care and gave orders that they should -do everything in their power to make her comfortable; but no one -except Koremitsu knew who the child was or how she came to be living -there. Nor had her father discovered what had become of her.</p> - -<p>The little girl still sometimes thought of the past and then she would -feel for a while very lonely without her grandmother. When Genji was -there she forgot her sorrow; but in the evening he was very seldom at -home. She was sorry that he was so busy and when he hurried every -evening to some strange place or other she missed him terribly; but -she was never angry with him. Sometimes for two or three days on end -he would be at the Palace or the Great Hall and when he returned he -would find her very tearful and depressed. Then he felt just as though -he were neglecting some child of his own, whose mother had died and -left it in his keeping, and for a while he grew uneasy about his night -excursions.</p> - -<p>The priest was puzzled when he heard that Genji had taken Murasaki to -live with him, but saw no harm in it and was delighted that she should -be so well cared for. He was gratified too when Genji begged that the -services in the dead nun’s memory should be celebrated with special -pomp and magnificence.</p> - -<p>When he went to Fujitsubo’s palace, anxious to see for himself whether -she was keeping her health, he was met by a posse of waiting-women -(Myōbus, Chūnagons, Nakatsukasas <span class="pagenum"><i>{217}</i></span> and the like) and Fujitsubo -herself showed, to his great disappointment, no sign of appearing. -They gave a good account of her, which somewhat allayed his anxiety, -and had passed on to general gossip when it was announced that Prince -Hyōbukyō<a id="FNanchor_VII_8" href="#Footnote_VII_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> had arrived. Genji at once went out to speak to him. This -time Genji thought him extremely handsome and there was a softness, a -caressing quality in his manner (Genji was watching him more closely -than he knew) which was feminine enough to make his connection with -Fujitsubo and Murasaki at once uppermost in the mind of his observer. -It was, then, as the brother of the one and the father of the other -that the new-comer at once created a feeling of intimacy, and they had -a long conversation. Hyōbukyō could not fail to notice that Genji was -suddenly treating him with an affection which he had never displayed -before. He was naturally very much gratified, not realizing that Genji -had now, in a sense, become his son-in-law. It was getting late and -Hyōbukyō was about to join his sister in another room. It was with -bitterness that Genji remembered how long ago the Emperor had brought -her to play with him. In those days he ran in and out of her room just -as he chose; now he could not address her save in precarious messages. -She was as inaccessible, as remote as one person conceivably could be -from another, and finding the situation intolerable, he said politely -to Prince Hyōbukyō: ‘I wish I saw you more often; unless there is some -special reason for seeing people, I am lazy about it. But if you ever -felt inclined to send for me, I should be delighted ...’ and he -hurried away.</p> - -<p>Ōmyōbu, the gentlewoman who had contrived Genji’s meeting with -Fujitsubo, seeing her mistress relapse into a steady gloom and vexed -at her belated caution was all the time doing her best to bring the -lovers together again; <span class="pagenum"><i>{218}</i></span> but days and months went by and still all -her efforts were in vain; while they, poor souls, strove desperately -to put away from them this love that was a perpetual disaster.</p> - -<p>At Genji’s palace Shōnagon, the little girl’s nurse, finding herself -in a world of unimagined luxuries and amenities, could only attribute -this good fortune to the success of the late nun’s prayers. The Lord -Buddha to whose protection the dying lady had so fervently recommended -her grand-daughter had indeed made handsome provision for her. There -were of course certain disadvantages. The haughtiness of Aoi was not -only in itself to be feared, but it seemed to have the consequence of -driving Prince Genji to seek distractions right and left, which would -be very unpleasant for the little princess so soon as she was old -enough to realize it. Yet so strong a preference did he show for the -child’s company that Shōnagon did not altogether lose heart.</p> - -<p>It being then three months since her grandmother died Murasaki came -out of mourning at the end of the Godless Month. But it was thought -proper since she was to be brought up as an orphan that she should -still avoid patterned stuffs, and she wore a little tunic of plain -red, brown or yellow, in which she nevertheless looked very smart and -gay.</p> - -<p>He came to have a look at her before going off to the New Year’s Day -reception at Court. ‘From to-day onwards you are a grown-up lady,’ he -said, and as he stood smiling at her he looked so charming and -friendly that she could not bear him to go, and hoping that he would -stay and play with her a little while longer she got out her toys. -There was a doll’s kitchen only three feet high but fitted out with -all the proper utensils, and a whole collection of little houses which -Genji had made for her. Now she had got them all spread out over the -floor so that it was difficult to move without treading on them. -‘Little Inu broke them yesterday,’ <span class="pagenum"><i>{219}</i></span> she explained ‘when he was -pretending to drive out the Old Year’s demons, and I am mending them.’ -She was evidently in great trouble. ‘What a tiresome child he is,’ -said Genji. ‘I will get them mended for you. Come, you must not cry on -New Year’s Day,’ and he went out. Many of the servants had collected -at the end of the corridor to see him starting out for the Court in -all his splendour. Murasaki too went out and watched him. When she -came back she put a grand dress on one of her dolls and did a -performance with it which she called ‘Prince Genji visiting the -Emperor.’ ‘This year,’ said Shōnagon, looking on with disapproval, -‘you must really try not to be such a baby. It is time little girls -stopped playing with dolls when they are ten years old, and now that -you have got a kind gentleman wanting to be your husband you ought to -try and show him that you can behave like a nice little grown-up lady -or he will get tired of waiting.’ She said this because she thought -that it must be painful for Genji to see the child still so intent -upon her games and be thus reminded that she was a mere baby. Her -admonishment had the effect of making Murasaki for the first time -aware that Genji was to be her husband. She knew all about husbands. -Many of the maid-servants had them, but such ugly ones! She was very -glad that hers was so much younger and handsomer. Nevertheless the -mere fact that she thought about the matter at all showed that she was -beginning to grow up a little. Her childish ways and appearance were -by no means so great a misfortune as Shōnagon supposed, for they went -a long way towards allaying the suspicions which the child’s presence -might otherwise have aroused in Genji’s somewhat puzzled household.</p> - -<p>When he returned from Court he went straight to the Great Hall. Aoi -was as perfect as ever, and just as unfriendly. This never failed to -wound Genji. ‘If only <span class="pagenum"><i>{220}</i></span> you had changed with the New Year, had -become a little less cold and forbidding, how happy I should be!’ he -exclaimed. But she had heard that someone was living with him and had -at once made up her mind that she herself had been utterly supplanted -and put aside. Hence she was more sullen than ever; but he pretended -not to notice it and by his gaiety and gentleness at last induced -her to answer when he spoke. Was it her being four years older -than him that made her seem so unapproachable, so exasperatingly -well-regulated? But that was not fair. What fault could he possibly -find in her? She was perfect in every respect and he realized that if -she was sometimes out of humour this was solely the result of his own -irregularities. She was after all the daughter of a Minister, and of -the Minister who above all others enjoyed the greatest influence and -esteem. She was the only child of the Emperor’s sister and had been -brought up with a full sense of her own dignity and importance. The -least slight, the merest hint of disrespect came to her as a complete -surprise. To Genji all these pretensions naturally seemed somewhat -exaggerated and his failure to make allowances for them increased her -hostility.</p> - -<p>Aoi’s father was vexed by Genji’s seeming fickleness, but so soon as -he was with him he forgot all his grievances and was always extremely -nice to him. When Genji was leaving next day his father-in-law came to -his room and helped him to dress, bringing in his own hands a belt -which was an heirloom famous far and wide. He pulled straight the back -of Genji’s robe which had become a little crumpled, and indeed short -of bringing him his shoes performed in the friendliest way every -possible small service. ‘This,’ said Genji handing back the belt, ‘is -for Imperial banquets or other great occasions of that kind.’ ‘I have -others much more valuable,’ said the Minister, ‘which I will give you -for the Imperial banquets. This one is not of much account <span class="pagenum"><i>{221}</i></span> save -that the workmanship of it is rather unusual,’ and despite Genji’s -protests he insisted upon buckling it round him. The performance of -such services was his principal interest in life. What did it matter -if Genji was rather irregular in his visits? To have so agreeable a -young man going in and out of one’s house at all was the greatest -pleasure he could imagine.</p> - -<p>Genji did not pay many New Year’s visits. First he went to the -Emperor, then the Heir Apparent and the Ex-Emperor, and after that to -Princess Fujitsubo’s house in the Third Ward. As they saw him enter -the servants of the house noticed how much he had grown and altered in -the last year. ‘Look how he has filled out,’ they said, ‘even since -his last visit!’ Of the Princess herself he was only allowed a distant -glimpse. It gave him many forebodings. Her child had been expected in -the twelfth month and her condition was now causing some anxiety. That -it would at any rate be born some time during the first weeks of the -New Year was confidently assumed by her own people and had been stated -at Court. But the first month went by and still nothing happened. It -began to be rumoured that she was suffering from some kind of -possession or delusion. She herself grew very depressed; she felt -certain that when the event at last happened she would not survive it -and she worried so much about herself that she became seriously ill. -The delay made Genji more certain than ever of his own responsibility -and he arranged secretly for prayers on her behalf to be said in all -the great temples. He had already become firmly convinced that -whatever might happen concerning the child Fujitsubo was herself -utterly doomed when he heard that about the tenth day of the second -month she had successfully given birth to a boy. The news brought -great satisfaction both to the Emperor and the whole court.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{222}</i></span></p> - -<p>The Emperor’s fervent prayers for her life and for that of a child -which she knew was not his, distressed and embarrassed her; whereas, -when the maliciously gloomy prognostications of Kōkiden and the rest -were brought to her notice, she was at once filled with a perverse -desire to disappoint their hopes and make them look ridiculous in the -eyes of those to whom they had confided their forebodings. By a great -effort of will she threw off the despair which had been weighing down -upon her and began little by little to recover her usual vigour.</p> - -<p>The Emperor was impatient to see Fujitsubo’s child and so too (though -he was forced to conceal his interest in the matter) was Genji -himself. Accordingly he went to her palace when there were not many -people about and sent in a note offering as the Emperor was in such a -state of impatience to see the child and etiquette forbade him to do -so for several weeks, to look at the child himself and report upon its -appearance to the Emperor. She replied that she would rather he saw it -on a day when it was less peevish; but in reality her refusal had -nothing to do with the state of the child’s temper; she could not bear -the idea of his seeing it at all. Already it bore an astonishing -resemblance to him; of that she was convinced. Always there lurked in -her heart the torturing demon of fear. Soon others would see the child -and instantly know with absolute certainty the secret of her swift -transgression. What charity towards such a crime as this would a world -have that gossips if a single hair is awry? Such thoughts continually -tormented her and she again became weary of her life.</p> - -<p>From time to time he saw Ōmyōbu, but though he still implored her to -arrange a meeting none of his many arguments availed him. He also -pestered her with so many questions about the child that she exclaimed -at last: ‘Why <span class="pagenum"><i>{223}</i></span> do you go on plaguing me like this? You will be -seeing him for yourself soon, when he is shown at Court.’ But though -she spoke impatiently she knew quite well what he was suffering and -felt for him deeply. The matter was not one which he could discuss -except with Fujitsubo herself, and it was impossible to see her. Would -he indeed ever again see her alone or communicate with her save -through notes and messengers? And half-weeping with despair he recited -the verse: ‘What guilty intercourse must ours have been in some life -long ago, that now so cruel a barrier should be set between us?’ -Ōmyōbu seeing that it cost her mistress a great struggle to do without -him was at pains not to dismiss him too unkindly and answered with the -verse: ‘Should you see the child my lady would be in torment; and -because you have not seen it you are full of lamentations. Truly have -children been called a black darkness that leads the parents’ heart -astray!’ And coming closer she whispered to him ‘Poor souls, it is a -hard fate that has overtaken you both.’ Thus many times and again he -returned to his house desperate. Fujitsubo meanwhile, fearing lest -Genji’s continual visits should attract notice, began to suspect that -Ōmyōbu was secretly encouraging him and no longer felt the same -affection for her. She did not want this to be noticed and tried to -treat her just as usual; but her irritation was bound sometimes to -betray itself and Ōmyōbu, feeling that her mistress was estranged from -her and at a loss to find any reason for it, was very miserable.</p> - -<p>It was not till its fourth month that the child was brought to the -Palace. It was large for its age and had already begun to take a great -interest in what went on around it. Its extraordinary resemblance to -Genji was not remarked upon by the Emperor who had an idea that -handsome children were all very much alike at that age. He became <span class="pagenum"><i>{224}</i></span> -intensely devoted to the child and lavished every kind of care and -attention upon it. For Genji himself he had always had so great a -partiality that, had it not been for popular opposition, he would -certainly have installed him as Heir Apparent. That he had not been -able to do so constantly distressed him. To have produced so -magnificent a son and be obliged to watch him growing up a mere -nobleman had always been galling to him. Now in his old age a son had -been born to him who promised to be equally handsome and had not the -tiresome disadvantage of a plebeian mother, and upon this flawless -pearl he expended his whole affection. The mother saw little chance of -this rapture continuing and was all this while in a state of agonized -apprehension.</p> - -<p>One day, when as he had been wont to do before, Genji was making music -for her at the Emperor’s command, His Majesty took the child in his -arms saying to Genji: ‘I have had many children, but you were the only -other one that I ever behaved about in this fashion. It may be my -fancy, but it seems to me this child is exactly like what you were at -the same age. However, I suppose all babies are very much alike while -they are as small as this,’ and he looked at the fine child with -admiration. A succession of violent emotions—terror, shame, pride and -love—passed through Genji’s breast while these words were being -spoken, and were reflected in his rapidly changing colour. He was -almost in tears. The child looked so exquisitely beautiful as it lay -crowing to itself and smiling that, hideous as the situation was, -Genji could not help feeling glad it was thought to be like him. -Fujitsubo meanwhile was in a state of embarrassment and agitation so -painful that a cold sweat broke out upon her while she sat by. For -Genji this jarring of opposite emotions was too much to be borne and -he went home. Here he lay tossing on his bed and, unable to <span class="pagenum"><i>{225}</i></span> -distract himself, he determined after a while to go to the Great Hall. -As he passed by the flower-beds in front of his house he noticed that -a faint tinge of green was already filming the bushes and under them -the <i>tokonatsu</i><a id="FNanchor_VII_9" href="#Footnote_VII_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> were already in bloom. He plucked one and sent it -to Ōmyōbu with a long letter and an acrostic poem in which he said -that he was touched by the likeness of this flower to the child, but -also hinted that he was perturbed by the child’s likeness to himself. -‘In this flower,’ he continued despondently, ‘I had hoped to see your -beauty enshrined. But now I know that being mine yet not mine it can -bring me no comfort to look upon it.’ After waiting a little while -till a favourable moment should arise Ōmyōbu showed her mistress the -letter, saying with a sigh ‘I fear that your answer will be but dust -to the petals of this thirsting flower.’ But Fujitsubo, in whose heart -also the new spring was awakening a host of tender thoughts, wrote in -answer the poem: ‘Though it alone be the cause that these poor sleeves -are wet with dew, yet goes my heart still with it, this child-flower -of Yamato Land.’ This was all and it was roughly scribbled in a faint -hand, but it was a comfort to Ōmyōbu to have even such a message as -this to bring back. Genji knew quite well that it could lead to -nothing. How many times had she sent him such messages before! Yet as -he lay dejectedly gazing at the note, the mere sight of her -handwriting soon stirred in him a frenzy of unreasoning excitement and -delight. For a while he lay restlessly tossing on his bed. At last -unable to remain any longer inactive he sprang up and went, as he had -so often done before, to the western wing to seek distraction from the -agitated thoughts which pursued him. He came towards the women’s -apartments with his hair loose upon his shoulders, wearing a queer -dressing-gown and, in order to amuse Murasaki, playing a <span class="pagenum"><i>{226}</i></span> tune on -his flute as he walked. He peeped in at the door. She looked as she -lay there for all the world like the fresh dewy flower that he had so -recently plucked. She was growing a little bit spoilt and having heard -some while ago that he had returned from Court she was rather cross -with him for not coming to see her at once. She did not run to meet -him as she usually did, but lay with her head turned away. He called -to her from the far side of the room to get up and come to him, but -she did not stir. Suddenly he heard that she was murmuring to herself -the lines ‘Like a sea-flower that the waters have covered when a great -tide mounts the shore.’ They were from an old poem<a id="FNanchor_VII_10" href="#Footnote_VII_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> that he had -taught her, in which a lady complains that she is neglected by her -lover. She looked bewitching as she lay with her face half-sullenly, -half-coquettishly buried in her sleeve. ‘How naughty,’ he cried. -‘Really you are becoming too witty. But if you saw me more often -perhaps you would grow tired of me.’ Then he sent for his zithern and -asked her to play to him. But it was a big Chinese instrument<a id="FNanchor_VII_11" href="#Footnote_VII_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> with -thirteen strings; the five slender strings in the middle embarrassed -her and she could not get the full sound out of them. Taking it from -her he shifted the bridge, and tuning it to a lower pitch played a few -chords upon it and bade her try again. Her sullen mood was over. She -began to play very prettily; sometimes, when there was a gap too long -for one small hand to stretch, helping herself out so adroitly with -the other hand that Genji was completely captivated and taking up his -flute taught her a number of new tunes. She was very quick and grasped -the most complicated rhythms at a single hearing. She had indeed in -music as in all else just those talents with which it most delighted -him that she should be endowed. When he played the Hosoroguseri (which -in spite of its <span class="pagenum"><i>{227}</i></span> absurd name is an excellent tune) she accompanied -him though with a childish touch, yet in perfect time.</p> - -<p>The great lamp was brought in and they began looking at pictures -together. But Genji was going out that night. Already his attendants -were assembled in the courtyard outside. One of them was saying that a -storm was coming on. He ought not to wait any longer. Again Murasaki -was unhappy. She was not looking at the pictures, but sat with her -head on her hands staring despondently at the floor. Stroking the -lovely hair that had fallen forward across her lap Genji asked her if -she missed him when he was away. She nodded. ‘I am just the same,’ he -said. ‘If I miss seeing you for a single day I am terribly unhappy. -But you are only a little girl and I know that whatever I do you will -not think harsh thoughts about me; while the lady that I go to see is -very jealous and angry so that it would break her heart if I were to -stay with you too long. But I do not at all like being there and that -is why I just go for a little while like this. When you are grown up -of course I shall never go away at all. I only go now because if I did -not she would be so terribly angry with me that I might very likely -die<a id="FNanchor_VII_12" href="#Footnote_VII_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> and then there would be no one to love you and take care of -you at all.’ He had told her all he could, but still she was offended -and would not answer a word. At last he took her on his knee and here -to his great embarrassment she fell asleep. ‘It is too late to go out -now,’ he said after a while, turning to the gentlewomen who were in -attendance. They rose and went to fetch his supper. He roused the -child. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I did not go out after all.’ She was happy -once more and they went to supper together. She liked the queer, -irregular meal, but when it was over she began again to watch him -uneasily. ‘If you are really not going out,’ she said, ‘why <span class="pagenum"><i>{228}</i></span> do -you not go to sleep at once?’ Leaving her at such a moment to go back -to his room he felt all the reluctance of one who is setting out upon -a long and perilous journey.</p> - -<p>It constantly happened that at the last minute he thus decided to stay -with her. It was natural that some report of his new pre-occupation -should leak out into the world and be passed on to the Great Hall. -‘Who can it be?’ said one of Aoi’s ladies. ‘It is really the most -inexplicable business. How can he have suddenly become entirely -wrapped up in someone whom we had never heard the existence of before? -It cannot in any case be a person of much breeding or self-respect. It -is probably some girl employed at the Palace whom he has taken to live -with him in order that the affair may be hushed up. No doubt he is -circulating the story that she is a child merely in order to put us -off the scent.<a id="Close_Quote3"></a><ins title="Original has no closing quote.">’</ins> -And this opinion was shared by the rest.</p> - -<p>The Emperor too had heard that there was someone living with Genji and -thought it a great pity. ‘You are treating the Minister very badly,’ -he said. ‘He has shown the greatest possible devotion to you ever -since you were a mere baby and now that you are old enough to know -better you behave like this towards him and his family! It is really -most ungrateful.’</p> - -<p>Genji listened respectfully, but made no reply. The Emperor began to -fear that his marriage with Aoi had proved a very unhappy one and was -sorry that he had arranged it. ‘I do not understand you,’ he said. -‘You seem to have no taste for gallantry and do not, so far as I can -see, take the slightest interest in any of the ladies-in-waiting whom -one might expect you to find attractive, nor do you bother yourself -about the various beauties who in one part of the town or another are -now in request; but instead you must needs pick up some creature from -no <span class="pagenum"><i>{229}</i></span> one knows where and wound the feelings of others by keeping -her as your mistress!’</p> - -<p>Though he was now getting on in years the Emperor had himself by no -means ceased to be interested in such matters. He had always seen to -it that his ladies-in-waiting and palace-servants should be remarkable -both for their looks and their intelligence, and it was a time when -the Court was full of interesting women. There were few among them -whom Genji could not by the slightest word or gesture have made his -own. But, perhaps because he saw too much of them, he did not find -them in the least attractive. Suspecting this, they would occasionally -experiment upon him with some frivolous remark. He answered so staidly -that they saw a flirtation would be impossible and some of them came -to the conclusion that he was rather a dull, prudish young man.</p> - -<p>There was an elderly lady-of-the-bedchamber who, though she was an -excellent creature in every other way and was very much liked and -respected, was an outrageous flirt. It astonished Genji that despite -her advancing years she showed no sign of reforming her reckless and -fantastic behaviour. Curious to see how she would take it he one day -came up and began joking with her. She appeared to be quite -unconscious of the disparity between their ages and at once counted -him as an admirer. Slightly alarmed, he nevertheless found her company -rather agreeable and often talked with her. But, chiefly because he -was frightened of being laughed at if anyone found out, he refused to -become her lover, and this she very much resented. One day she was -dressing the Emperor’s hair. When this was over his Majesty sent for -his valets and went with them into another room. Genji and the elderly -lady were left alone together. She was fuller than ever of languishing -airs and poses, and her costume was to the last degree stylish and -<span class="pagenum"><i>{230}</i></span> elaborate. ‘Poor creature,’ he thought, ‘How little difference it -all makes!’ and he was passing her on his way out of the room when -suddenly the temptation to give a tug at her dress became -irresistible. She glanced swiftly round, eyeing him above the rim of a -marvellously painted summer-fan. The eyelids beneath which she ogled -at him were blackened and sunken; wisps of hair projected untidily -around her forehead. There was something singularly inappropriate -about this gawdy, coquettish fan. Handing her his own instead, he took -it from her and examined it. On paper coated with a red so thick and -lustrous that you could see yourself reflected in it a forest of tall -trees was painted in gold. At the side of this design, in a hand which -though out-of-date was not lacking in distinction was written the poem -about the Forest of Oaraki.<a id="FNanchor_VII_13" href="#Footnote_VII_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> He made no doubt that the owner of the -fan had written it in allusion to her own advancing years and was -expecting him to make a gallant reply. Turning over in his mind how -best to divert the extravagant ardour of this strange creature he -could, to his own amusement, think only of another poem<a id="FNanchor_VII_14" href="#Footnote_VII_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> about the -same forest; but to this it would have been ill-bred to allude. He was -feeling very uncomfortable lest someone should come in and see them -together. She however was quite at her ease and seeing that he -remained silent she recited with many arch looks the poem: ‘Come to me -in the forest and I will cut pasture for your horse, though it be but -of the under leaf whose season is past.’ ‘Should I seek your -woodland,’ he answered, ‘my fair name would be gone, for down its -glades at all times the pattering of hoofs is heard,’ and he tried to -get away; but she held him back saying: ‘How odious you are! That is -not what I mean <span class="pagenum"><i>{231}</i></span> at all. No one has ever insulted me like this -before,’ and she burst into tears. ‘Let us talk about it some other -time,’ said Genji; ‘I did not mean ...’ and freeing himself from her -grasp he rushed out of the room, leaving her in great dudgeon. She -felt indeed after his repulse prodigiously old and tottering. All this -was seen by His Majesty who, his toilet long ago completed, had -watched the ill-assorted pair with great amusement from behind his -Imperial screen. ‘I am always being told,’ he said, ‘that the boy -takes no interest in the members of my household. But I cannot say -that he seems to me unduly shy,’ and he laughed. For a moment she was -slightly embarrassed; but she felt that any relationship with Genji, -even if it consisted of being rebuffed by him in public, was -distinctly a feather in her cap, and she made no attempt to defend -herself against the Emperor’s raillery. The story soon went the round -of the Court. It astonished no one more than Tō no Chūjō who, though -he knew that Genji was given to odd experiments, could not believe -that his friend was really launched upon the fantastic courtship which -rumour was attributing to him. There seemed no better way of -discovering whether it was conceivably possible to regard the lady in -such a light than to make love to her himself.</p> - -<p>The attentions of so distinguished a suitor went a long way towards -consoling her for her late discomfiture. Her new intrigue was of -course carried on with absolute secrecy and Genji knew nothing about -it. When he next met her she seemed to be very cross with him, and -feeling sorry for her because she was so old he made up his mind that -he must try to console her. But for a long while he was completely -occupied by tiresome business of one kind and another. At last one -very dismal rainy evening when he was strolling in the neighbourhood -of the Ummeiden<a id="FNanchor_VII_15" href="#Footnote_VII_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> he heard this lady <span class="pagenum"><i>{232}</i></span> playing most agreeably on -her lute. She was so good a performer that she was often called upon -to play with the professional male musicians in the Imperial -orchestra. It happened that at this moment she was somewhat downcast -and discontented, and in such a mood she played with even greater -feeling and verve. She was singing the ‘Melon-grower’s Song’<a id="FNanchor_VII_16" href="#Footnote_VII_16" class="fnanchor">16</a>; -admirably, he thought, despite its inappropriateness to her age. So -must the voice of the mysterious lady at O-chou have sounded in Po -Chü-i’s ears when he heard her singing on her boat at night<a id="FNanchor_VII_17" href="#Footnote_VII_17" class="fnanchor">17</a>; and -he stood listening. At the end of the song the player sighed heavily -as though quite worn out by the passionate vehemence of her serenade. -Genji approached softly humming the ‘Azumaya’: ‘Here in the portico of -the eastern house rain splashes on me while I wait. Come, my beloved, -open the door and let me in.’ Immediately, indeed with an unseemly -haste, she answered as does the lady in the song ‘Open the door and -come in,’<a id="FNanchor_VII_18" href="#Footnote_VII_18" class="fnanchor">18</a> adding the verse: ‘In the wide shelter of that portico -no man yet was ever splashed with rain,’ and again she sighed so -portentously that although he did not at all suppose that he alone was -the cause of this demonstration he felt it in any case to be somewhat -exaggerated and answered with the poem: ‘Your sighs show clearly that, -despite the song, you are another’s bride, and I for my part have no -mind to haunt the loggias of your eastern house.’ He would gladly have -passed on, but he felt that this would be too unkind, and seeing that -someone else was coming towards her room he stepped <span class="pagenum"><i>{233}</i></span> inside and -began talking lightly of indifferent subjects, in a style which though -it was in reality somewhat forced she found very entertaining.</p> - -<p>It was intolerable, thought Tō no Chūjō, that Genji should be praised -as a quiet and serious young man and should constantly rebuke him for -his frivolity, while all the time he was carrying on a multiplicity of -interesting intrigues which out of mere churlishness he kept entirely -hidden from all his friends. For a long while Chūjō had been waiting -for an opportunity to expose this sanctimonious imposture, and when he -saw Genji enter the gentlewoman’s apartment you may be sure he was -delighted. To scare him a little at such a moment would be an -excellent way to punish him for his unfriendliness. He slackened his -pace and watched. The wind sighed in the trees. It was getting very -late. Surely Genji would soon begin to doze? And indeed he did now -look as though he had fallen asleep. Chūjō stole on tip-toe into the -room; but Genji who was only half dreaming instantly heard him, and -not knowing that Chūjō had followed him got it into his head that it -was a certain Commissioner of Works who years ago had been supposed to -be an admirer of the lady. The idea of being discovered in such a -situation by this important old gentleman filled him with horror. -Furious with his companion for having exposed him to the chance of -such a predicament: ‘This is too bad,’ he whispered ‘I am going home. -What possessed you to let me in on a night when you knew that someone -else was coming?’ He had only time to snatch up his cloak and hide -behind a long folding screen before Chūjō entered the room and going -straight up to the screen began in a business-like manner to fold it -up. Though she was no longer young the lady did not lose her head in -this alarming crisis. Being a woman of fashion she had on more than -one occasion found herself in an equally <span class="pagenum"><i>{234}</i></span> agitating position, and -now despite her astonishment, after considering for a moment what had -best be done with the intruder, she seized him by the back of his coat -and with a practised though trembling hand pulled him away from the -screen. Genji had still no idea that it was Chūjō. He had half a mind -to show himself, but quickly remembered that he was oddly and -inadequately clad, with his head-dress all awry. He felt that if he -ran for it he would cut much too strange a figure as he left the room, -and for a moment he hesitated. Wondering how much longer Genji would -take to recognize him Chūjō did not say a word but putting on the most -ferocious air imaginable drew his sword from the scabbard. Whereupon -the lady crying ‘Gentlemen! Gentlemen!’ flung herself between them in -an attitude of romantic supplication. They could hardly refrain from -bursting into laughter. It was only by day when very carefully painted -and bedizened that she still retained a certain superficial air of -youth and charm. But now this woman of fifty-seven or eight, disturbed -by a sudden brawl in the midst of her amours, created the most -astonishing spectacle as she knelt at the feet of two young men in -their ’teens beseeching them not to die for her. Chūjō however -refrained from showing the slightest sign of amusement and continued -to look as alarming and ferocious as he could. But he was now in full -view and Genji realized in a moment that Chūjō had all the while known -who he was and had been amusing himself at his expense. Much relieved -at this discovery he grabbed at the scabbard from which Chūjō had -drawn the sword and held it fast lest his friend should attempt to -escape and then, despite his annoyance at having been followed, burst -into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. ‘Are you in your right mind?’ -said Genji at last. ‘This is really a very poor sort of joke. Do you -mind letting me get into my cloak?’ Whereupon Chūjō <span class="pagenum"><i>{235}</i></span> snatched the -cloak from him and would not give it back. ‘Very well then,’ said -Genji; ‘if you are to have my cloak I must have yours,’ and so saying -he pulled open the clasp of Chūjō’s belt and began tugging his cloak -from his shoulders. Chūjō resisted and a long tussle followed in which -the cloak was torn to shreds. ‘Should you now get it in exchange for -yours, this tattered cloak will but reveal the secrets it is meant to -hide,’ recited Tō no Chūjō; to which Genji replied with an acrostic -poem in which he complained that Chūjō with whom he shared so many -secrets should have thought it necessary to spy upon him in this -fashion. But neither was really angry with the other and setting their -disordered costumes to rights they both took their departure. Genji -discovered when he was alone that it had indeed upset him very much to -find his movements had been watched, and he could not sleep. The lady -felt utterly bewildered. On the floor she found a belt and a buckle -which she sent to Genji next day with a complicated acrostic poem in -which she compared these stranded properties to the weeds which after -their straining and tugging the waves leave upon the shore. She added -an allusion to the crystal river of her tears. He was irritated by her -persistency but distressed at the shock to which she had been -subjected by Chūjō’s foolish joke, and he answered with the poem: ‘At -the antics of the prancing wave you have good cause to be angry; but -blameless indeed is the shore on whose sands it lashed.’ The belt was -Chūjō’s; that was plain for it was darker in colour than his own -cloak. And as he examined his cloak he noticed that the lower half of -one sleeve was torn away. What a mess everything was in! He told -himself with disgust that he was becoming a rowdy, a vulgar -night-brawler. Such people, he knew, were always tearing their clothes -and making themselves ridiculous. It was time to reform.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{236}</i></span></p> - -<p>The missing sleeve soon arrived from Chūjō’s apartments with the -message: ‘Had you not better have this sewn on before you wear your -cloak?’ How had he managed to get hold of it? Such tricks were very -tiresome and silly. But he supposed he must now give back the belt, -and wrapping it in paper of the same colour he sent it with a riddling -poem in which he said that he would not keep it lest he should make -trouble between Chūjō and the lady. ‘You have dragged her away from me -as in the scuffle you snatched from me this belt,’ said Chūjō in his -answering poem, and added ‘Have I not good reason to be angry with you?’</p> - -<p>Later in the morning they met in the Presence Room. Genji wore a -solemn and abstracted air. Chūjō could not help recollecting the -absurd scene of their last meeting, but it was a day upon which there -was a great deal of public business to dispatch and he was soon -absorbed in his duties. But from time to time each would catch sight -of the other’s serious face and heavy official bearing, and then they -could not help smiling. In an interval Chūjō came up to Genji and -asked him in a low voice whether he had decided in future to be a -little more communicative about his affairs. ‘No, indeed,’ said Genji; -‘but I feel I owe you an apology for preventing you from spending a -happy hour with the lady whom you had come to visit. Everything in -life seems to go wrong.’ So they whispered and at the end each -solemnly promised the other not to speak of the matter to anybody. But -to the two of them it furnished a constant supply of jokes for a long -while to come, though Genji took the matter to heart more than he -showed and was determined never to get mixed up with such a tiresome -creature again. He heard however that the lady was still much ruffled, -and fearing that there might be no one at hand to comfort her he had -not the heart quite to discontinue his visits.</p> - -<p>Chūjō, faithful to his promise, did not mention the affair <span class="pagenum"><i>{237}</i></span> to -anyone, not even to his sister, but kept it as a weapon of -self-defence should Genji ever preach high morality to him again.</p> - -<p>Such marked preference did the Emperor show in his treatment of Genji -that even the other princes of the Blood Royal stood somewhat in awe -of him. But Tō no Chūjō was ready to dispute with him on any subject, -and was by no means inclined always to let him have his own way. He -and Aoi were the only children of the Emperor’s sister. Genji, it is -true, was the Emperor’s son; but though Chūjō’s father was only a -Minister his influence was far greater than that of his colleagues, -and as the son of such a man by his marriage with a royal princess he -was used to being treated with the greatest deference. It had never so -much as occurred to him that he was in any way Genji’s inferior; for -he knew that as regards his person at least he had no reason to be -dissatisfied; and with most other qualities, whether of character or -intelligence, he believed himself to be very adequately endowed. Thus -a friendly rivalry grew up between the two of them and led to many -diverting incidents which it would take too long to describe.</p> - -<p>In the seventh month two events of importance took place. An empress -was appointed<a id="FNanchor_VII_19" href="#Footnote_VII_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> and Genji was raised to the rank of Counsellor. The -Emperor was intending very soon to resign the Throne. He would have -liked to proclaim his new-born child as Heir Apparent in place of -Kōkiden’s son. This was difficult, for there was no political function -which would have supported such a choice. Fujitsubo’s relations were -all members of the Imperial family<a id="FNanchor_VII_20" href="#Footnote_VII_20" class="fnanchor">20</a> and Genji, to whom he might -have looked for help owing to his affiliation with the Minamoto clan, -unfortunately showed no aptitude <span class="pagenum"><i>{238}</i></span> for political intrigue. The best -he could do was at any rate to strengthen Fujitsubo’s position and -hope that later on she would be able to exert her influence. Kōkiden -heard of his intentions, and small wonder if she was distressed and -astounded. The Emperor tried to quiet her by pointing out that in a -short time her son would succeed to the Throne and that she would then -hold the equally important rank of Empress Mother. But it was indeed -hard that the mother of the Heir Apparent should be passed over in -favour of a concubine aged little more than twenty. The public tended -to take Kōkiden’s side and there was a good deal of discontent. On the -night when the new Empress was installed Genji, as a Counsellor, was -among those who accompanied her to the Middle Palace. As daughter of a -previous Empress and mother of an exquisite prince she enjoyed a -consideration at Court beyond that which her new rank would have alone -procured for her. But if it was with admiring devotion that the other -great lords of her train attended her that day, it may be imagined -with what fond yet agonized thoughts Prince Genji followed the litter -in which she rode. She seemed at last to have been raised so far -beyond his reach that scarce knowing what he did he murmured to -himself the lines: ‘Now upon love’s dark path has the last shadow -closed; for I have seen you carried to a cloud-land whither none may -climb.’</p> - -<p>As the days and months went by the child grew more and more like -Genji. The new Empress was greatly distressed, but no one else seemed -to notice the resemblance. He was not of course so handsome; how -indeed should he have been? But both were beautiful, and the world was -content to accept their beauty without troubling to compare them, just -as it accepts both moon and sun as lovely occupants of the sky.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_1" href="#FNanchor_VII_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> They were not allowed to leave the palace. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_2" href="#FNanchor_VII_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> The bird that sings in Paradise. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_3" href="#FNanchor_VII_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> See above p. <a href="#Page_19">19</a>. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_4" href="#FNanchor_VII_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> In allusion to a boy-prince of seven years old whom the jealous -gods carried off to the sky. See the <cite>Ōkagami</cite>. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_5" href="#FNanchor_VII_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> Those who stand in a circle round the dancers while the latter -change their clothes. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_6" href="#FNanchor_VII_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> Reading ‘Sadaijin,’ not ‘Sadaishō.’ -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_7" href="#FNanchor_VII_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> Another illegitimate son of the Emperor; Genji’s step-brother. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_8" href="#FNanchor_VII_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> Fujitsubo’s brother; Murasaki’s father. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_9" href="#FNanchor_VII_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> Another name for the <i>nadeshiko</i>, ‘Child-of-my-heart,’ see p. <a href="#Page_58">58</a>. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_10" href="#FNanchor_VII_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> <cite>Shū-i Shū</cite> 967. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_11" href="#FNanchor_VII_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> A sō no koto. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_12" href="#FNanchor_VII_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> That hate kills is a fundamental thesis of the book. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_13" href="#FNanchor_VII_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> ‘So withered is the grass beneath its trees that the young colt -will not graze there and the reapers do not come.’ -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_14" href="#FNanchor_VII_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> ‘So sweet is its shade that all the summer through its leafy -avenues are thronged,’ alluding to the lady’s many lovers. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_15" href="#FNanchor_VII_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> The headquarters of the Ladies of the Bedchamber. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_16" href="#FNanchor_VII_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> An old folk-song the refrain of which is ‘At the melon-hoeing he -said he loved me and what am I to do, what am I to do?’ -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_17" href="#FNanchor_VII_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> The poem referred to is not the famous <cite>Lute Girl’s Song</cite>, but a -much shorter one (<cite>Works</cite> x. 8) on a similar theme. O-chou is the -modern <a id="Aspirated"></a><ins title="Original has ‘Wu-ch’ang’.">Wu-ch‘ang</ins> in Hupeh. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_18" href="#FNanchor_VII_18" class="fnanchor">18</a> In the song the lady says: ‘The door is not bolted or barred. -Come quickly and talk to me. Am I another’s bride, that you should be -so careful and shy?’ -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_19" href="#FNanchor_VII_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> The rank of Empress was often not conferred till quite late in a -reign. It was of course Fujitsubo whom the Emperor chose in this case. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VII_20" href="#FNanchor_VII_20" class="fnanchor">20</a> And therefore debarred from taking part in political life. -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_239"><i>{239}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br /> -<span class="larger">THE FLOWER FEAST</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">ABOUT the twentieth day of the second month the Emperor gave a Chinese -banquet under the great cherry-tree of the Southern Court. Both -Fujitsubo and the Heir Apparent were to be there. Kōkiden, although -she knew that the mere presence of the Empress was sufficient to spoil -her pleasure, could not bring herself to forego so delightful an -entertainment. After some promise of rain the day turned out -magnificent; and in full sunshine, with the birds singing in every -tree, the guests (royal princes, noblemen and professional poets -alike) were handed the rhyme words which the Emperor had drawn by lot, -and set to work to compose their poems. It was with a clear and -ringing voice that Genji read out the word ‘Spring’ which he had -received as the rhyme-sound of his poem. Next came Tō no Chūjō who, -feeling that all eyes were upon him and determined to impress himself -favourably on his audience, moved with the greatest possible elegance -and grace; and when on receiving his rhyme he announced his name, -rank, and titles, he took great pains to speak pleasantly as well as -audibly. Many of the other gentlemen were rather nervous and looked -quite pale as they came forward, yet they acquitted themselves well -enough. But the professional poets, particularly owing to the high -standard of accomplishment which the Emperor’s and Heir Apparent’s -lively interest in Chinese poetry had at <span class="pagenum"><i>{240}</i></span> that time diffused -through the Court, were very ill at ease; as they crossed the long -space of the garden on their way to receive their rhymes they felt -utterly helpless. A simple Chinese verse is surely not much to ask of -a professional poet; but they all wore an expression of the deepest -gloom. One expects elderly scholars to be somewhat odd in their -movements and behaviour, and it was amusing to see the lively concern -with which the Emperor watched their various but always uncouth and -erratic methods of approaching the Throne. Needless to say a great -deal of music had been arranged for. Towards dusk the delightful dance -known as the Warbling of Spring Nightingales was performed, and when -it was over the Heir Apparent, remembering the Festival of Red Leaves, -placed a wreath on Genji’s head and pressed him so urgently that it -was impossible for him to refuse. Rising to his feet he danced very -quietly a fragment of the sleeve-turning passage in the Wave Dance. In -a few moments he was seated again, but even into this brief extract -from a long dance he managed to import an unrivalled charm and grace. -Even his father-in-law who was not in the best of humour with him was -deeply moved and found himself wiping away a tear.</p> - -<p>‘And why have we not seen Tō no Chūjō?’ said the Heir Apparent. -Whereupon Chūjō danced the Park of Willow Flowers, giving a far more -complete performance than Genji, for no doubt he knew that he would be -called upon and had taken trouble to prepare his dance. It was a great -success and the Emperor presented him with a cloak, which everyone -said was a most unusual honour. After this the other young noblemen -who were present danced in no particular order, but it was now so dark -that it was impossible to discriminate between their performances.</p> - -<p>Then the poems were opened and read aloud. The reading of Genji’s -verses was continually interrupted by <span class="pagenum"><i>{241}</i></span> loud murmurs of applause. -Even the professional poets were deeply impressed, and it may well be -imagined what pride the Emperor, to whom at times Genji was a source -of consolation and delight, watched him upon such an occasion as this. -Fujitsubo, when she allowed herself to glance in his direction, -marvelled that even Kōkiden could find it in her heart to hate him. -‘It is because he is fond of me; there can be no other reason,’ she -decided at last and the verse ‘Were I but a common mortal who now am -gazing at the beauty of this flower, from its sweet petals not long -should I withhold the dew of love,’ framed itself on her lips, though -she dared not utter it aloud.</p> - -<p>It was now very late and the banquet was over. The guests had -scattered. The Empress and the Heir Apparent had both returned to the -Palace—all was still. The moon had risen very bright and clear, and -Genji, heated with wine, could not bear to quit so lovely a scene. The -people at the Palace were probably all plunged in a heavy sleep. On -such a night it was not impossible that some careless person might -have left some door unfastened, some shutter unbarred. Cautiously and -stealthily he crept towards Fujitsubo’s apartments and inspected them. -Every bolt was fast. He sighed; here there was evidently nothing to be -done. He was passing the loggia of Kōkiden’s palace when he noticed -that the shutters of the third arch were not drawn. After the banquet -Kōkiden herself had gone straight to the Emperor’s rooms. There did -not seem to be anyone about. A door leading from the loggia into the -house was standing open, but he could hear no sound within. ‘It is -under just such circumstances as this that one is apt to drift into -compromising situations,’ thought Genji. Nevertheless he climbed -quietly on to the balustrade and peeped. Every one must be asleep. But -no; a very agreeable young voice with an intonation which was <span id="Page_242" class="pagenum"><i>{242}</i></span> -certainly not that of any waiting-woman or common person was softly -humming the last two lines of the <cite>Oborozuki-yo</cite>.<a id="FNanchor_VIII_1" href="#Footnote_VIII_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> Was not the voice -coming towards him? It seemed so, and stretching out his hand he -suddenly found that he was grasping a lady’s sleeve. ‘Oh, how you -frightened me<a id="Close_Quote4"></a><ins title="Original has question mark.">,’</ins> she cried. ‘Who is it?’ ‘Do not be alarmed,’ he -whispered. ‘That both of us were not content to miss the beauty of -this departing night is proof more clear than the half-clouded moon -that we were meant to meet,’ and as he recited the words he took her -gently by the hand and led her into the house, closing the door behind -them. Her surprised and puzzled air fascinated him. ‘There is someone -there,’ she whispered tremulously, pointing to the inner room. ‘Child’ -he answered, ‘I am allowed to go wherever I please and if you send for -your friends they will only tell you that I have every right to be -here. But if you will stay quietly here....’ It was Genji. She knew -his voice and the discovery somewhat reassured her. She thought his -conduct rather strange, but she was determined that he should not -think her prudish or stiff. And so because he on his side was still -somewhat excited after the doings of the evening, while she was far -too young and pliant to offer any serious resistance, he soon got his -own way with her.</p> - -<p>Suddenly they saw to their discomfiture that dawn was creeping into -the sky. She looked, thought Genji, as though many disquieting -reflections were crowding into her mind. ‘Tell me your name’ he said. -‘How can I write to you unless you do? Surely this is not going to be -our only meeting?’ She answered with a poem in which she said that -names are of this world only and he would not care to know hers if he -were resolved that their <span class="pagenum"><i>{243}</i></span> love should last till worlds to come. It -was a mere quip and Genji, amused at her quickness, answered ‘You are -quite right. It was a mistake on my part to ask.’ And he recited the -poem ‘While still I seek to find on which blade dwells the dew, a -great wind shakes the grasses of the level land.’ ‘If you did not -repent of this meeting,’ he continued, ‘you would surely tell me who -you are. I do not believe that you want....’ But here he was -interrupted by the noise of people stirring in the next room. There -was a great bustle and it was clear that they would soon be starting -out to fetch Princess Kōkiden back from the Palace. There was just -time to exchange fans in token of their new friendship before Genji -was forced to fly precipitately from the room. In his own apartments -he found many of his gentlemen waiting for him. Some were awake, and -these nudged one another when he entered the room as though to say -‘Will he never cease these disreputable excursions?’ But discretion -forbade them to show that they had seen him and they all pretended to -be fast asleep. Genji too lay down, but he could not rest. He tried to -recall the features of the lady with whom he had just spent so -agreeable a time. Certainly she must be one of Kōkiden’s sisters. -Perhaps the fifth or sixth daughter, both of whom were still -unmarried. The handsomest of them (or so he had always heard) were -Prince Sochi’s wife and the fourth daughter, the one with whom Tō no -Chūjō got on so badly. It would really be rather amusing if it did -turn out to be Chūjō’s wife. The sixth was shortly to be married to -the Heir Apparent. How tiresome if it were she! But at present he -could think of no way to make sure. She had not behaved at all as -though she did not want to see him again. Why then had she refused to -give him any chance of communicating with her? In fact he worried -about the matter so much and turned it over in his mind with such <span class="pagenum"><i>{244}</i></span> -endless persistency that it soon became evident he had fallen deeply -in love with her. Nevertheless no sooner did the recollection of -Fujitsubo’s serious and reticent demeanour come back to his mind than -he realized how incomparably more she meant to him than this -light-hearted lady.</p> - -<p>That day the after-banquet kept him occupied till late at night. At -the Emperor’s command he performed on the thirteen-stringed zithern -and had an even greater success than with his dancing on the day -before. At dawn Fujitsubo retired to the Emperor’s rooms. Disappointed -in his hope that the lady of last night would somewhere or somehow -make her appearance on the scene, he sent for Yoshikiyo and Koremitsu -with whom all his secrets were shared and bade them keep watch upon -the lady’s family. When he returned next day from duty at the Palace -they reported that they had just witnessed the departure of several -coaches which had been drawn up under shelter in the Courtyard of the -Watch. ‘Among a group of persons who seemed to be the domestic -attendants of those for whom the coaches were waiting two gentlemen -came threading their way in a great hurry. These we recognized as Shii -no Shōshō and Uchūben,<a id="FNanchor_VIII_2" href="#Footnote_VIII_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> so there is little doubt that the carriages -belonged to Princess Kōkiden. For the rest we noted that the ladies -were by no means ill looking and that the whole party drove away in -three carriages.’ Genji’s heart beat fast. But he was no nearer than -before to finding out which of the sisters it had been. Supposing her -father, the Minister of the Right, should hear anything of this, what -a to-do there would be! It would indeed mean his absolute ruin. It was -a pity that while he was about it he did not stay with her till it was -a little lighter. But there it was! He did not know her face, but yet -he was determined to recognize her. How? He lay on his <span class="pagenum"><i>{245}</i></span> bed -devising and rejecting endless schemes. Murasaki too must be growing -impatient. Days had passed since he had visited her and he remembered -with tenderness how low-spirited she became when he was not able to be -with her. But in a moment his thoughts had returned to the unknown -lady. He still had her fan. It was a folding fan with ribs of -hinoki-wood and tassels tied in a splice-knot. One side was covered -with silverleaf on which was painted a dim moon, giving the impression -of a moon reflected in water. It was a device which he had seen many -times before, but it had agreeable associations for him, and -continuing the metaphor of the ‘grass on the moor’ which she had used -in her poem he wrote on the fan—‘Has mortal man ever puzzled his head -with such a question before as to ask where the moon goes to when she -leaves the sky at dawn?’ And he put the fan safely away. It was on his -conscience that he had not for a long while been to the Great Hall; -but fearing that Murasaki too might be feeling very unhappy he first -went home to give her her lessons. Every day she was improving not -only in looks, but also in amiability of character. The beauty of her -disposition was indeed quite out of the common. The idea that so -perfect a nature was in his hands, to train and cultivate as he -thought best, was very attractive to Genji. It might however have been -objected that to receive all her education from a young man is likely -to make a girl somewhat forward in her manner.</p> - -<p>First there was a great deal to tell her about what had happened at -the Court entertainments of the last few days. Then followed her music -lesson, and already it was time to go. ‘Oh why must he always go away -so soon?’ she wondered sadly, but by now she was so used to it that -she no longer fretted as she had done a little while ago.</p> - -<p>At the Great Hall he could, as usual, scarcely get a word <span class="pagenum"><i>{246}</i></span> out of -Aoi. The moment that he sat idle a thousand doubts and puzzles began -to revolve in his mind. He took up his zithern and began to sing:</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza small_92"> - <div class="i0">Not softlier pillowed is my head</div> - <div class="i2">That rests by thine, unloving bride,</div> - <div class="i0">Than were those jagged stones my bed</div> - <div class="i2">Through which the falls of Nuki stride.</div> - </div><!--end stanza--> - </div><!--end poem--> -</div><!--end container--> - -<p>At this moment Aoi’s father came by and began to discuss the unusual -success of the recent festivities. ‘Old as I am,’ he said—‘and I may -say that I have lived to see four illustrious sovereigns occupy the -Throne, I have never taken part in a banquet which produced verses so -spirited or dancing and music so admirably performed. Talent of every -description seems at present to exist in abundance; but it is -creditable to those in authority that they knew how to make good use -of it. For my part I enjoyed myself so much that had I but been a few -years younger I would positively have joined in the dancing!’ ‘No -special steps were taken to discover the musicians,’ answered Genji. -‘We merely used those who were known to the government in one part of -the country and another as capable performers. If I may say so, it was -Chūjō’s Willow Dance that made the deepest impression and is likely -always to be remembered as a remarkable performance. But if you, Sir, -had indeed honoured us a new lustre would have been added to my -Father’s reign.’ Aoi’s brothers now arrived and leaning against the -balustrade gave a little concert, their various instruments blending -delightfully.</p> - -<p>Fugitive as their meeting had been it had sufficed to plunge the lady -whose identity Prince Genji was now seeking to establish into the -depths of despair; for in the fourth month she was to become the Heir -Apparent’s wife. Turmoil filled her brain. Why had not Genji visited -her again? <span class="pagenum"><i>{247}</i></span> He must surely know whose daughter she was. But how -should he know which daughter? Besides, her sister Kōkiden’s house was -not a place where, save under very strange circumstances, he was -likely to feel at all at his ease. And so she waited in great -impatience and distress; but of Genji there was no news.</p> - -<p>About the twentieth day of the third month her father, the Minister of -the Right, held an archery meeting at which most of the young noblemen -and princes were present. It was followed by a wistaria feast. The -cherry blossom was for the most part over, but two trees, which the -Minister seemed somehow to have persuaded to flower later than all the -rest, were still an enchanting sight. He had had his house rebuilt -only a short time ago when celebrating the initiation of his -grand-daughters, the children of Kōkiden. It was now a magnificent -building and not a thing in it but was of the very latest fashion. He -had invited Genji when he had met him at the Palace only a few days -before and was extremely annoyed when he did not appear. Feeling that -the party would be a failure if Genji did not come, he sent his son -Shii no Shōshō to fetch him, with the poem: ‘Were my flowers as those -of other gardens never should I have ventured to summon you.’ Genji -was in attendance upon the Emperor and at once showed him the message. -‘He seems very pleased with himself and his flowers,’ said his Majesty -with a smile; adding ‘as he has sent for you like this, I think you -had better go. After all your half-sisters are being brought up at his -house, and you ought not to treat him quite as a stranger.’ He went to -his apartments and dressed. It was very late indeed when at last he -made his appearance at the party. He was dressed in a cloak of thin -Chinese fabric, white outside but lined with yellow. His robe was of a -deep wine-red colour with a very long train. The dignity and grace -with which <span class="pagenum"><i>{248}</i></span> he carried this fancifully regal<a id="FNanchor_VIII_3" href="#Footnote_VIII_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> attire in a -company where all were dressed in plain official robes were indeed -remarkable, and in the end his presence perhaps contributed more to -the success of the party than did the fragrance of the Minister’s -boasted flowers. His entry was followed by some very agreeable music. -It was already fairly late when Genji, on the plea that the wine had -given him a head-ache, left his seat and went for a walk. He knew that -his two step-sisters, the daughters of Kōkiden, were in the inner -apartments of the palace. He went to the eastern portico and rested -there. It was on this side of the house that the wistaria grew. The -wooden blinds were raised and a number of ladies were leaning out of -the window to enjoy the blossoms. They had hung bright-coloured robes -and shawls over the window-sill just as is done at the time of the New -Year dancing and other gala days and were behaving with a freedom of -allure which contrasted very oddly with the sober decorum of -Fujitsubo’s household. ‘I am feeling rather overpowered by all the -noise and bustle of the flower-party’ Genji explained. ‘I am very -sorry to disturb my sisters, but I can think of nowhere else to seek -refuge ...’ and advancing towards the main door of the women’s -apartments he pushed back the curtain with his shoulder. ‘Refuge -indeed!’ cried one of the ladies laughing at him. ‘You ought to know -by now that it is only poor relations who come to seek refuge with the -more successful members of their family. What pray have you come to -bother us for?’ ‘Impertinent creatures!’ he thought but nevertheless -there was something in their manner which convinced him they were -persons of some consequence in the house and not, as he at first -supposed, mere waiting-women. A scent of costly perfumes pervaded <span class="pagenum"><i>{249}</i></span> -the room; silken skirts rustled in the darkness. There could be little -doubt that these were Kōkiden’s sisters and their friends. Deeply -absorbed, as indeed was the whole of this family, in the fashionable -gaieties of the moment, they had flouted decorum and posted themselves -at the window that they might see what little they could of the -banquet which was proceeding outside. Little thinking that his plan -could succeed, yet led on by delightful recollections of his previous -encounter he advanced towards them chanting in a careless undertone -the song:</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza small_92"> - <div class="i0">At Ishikawa, Ishikawa</div> - <div class="i0">A man from Koma<a id="FNanchor_VIII_4" href="#Footnote_VIII_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> took my belt away....</div> - </div><!--end stanza--> - </div><!--end poem--> -</div><!--end container--> - -<p>But for ‘belt’ he substituted ‘fan’ and by this means he sought to -discover which of the ladies was his friend. ‘Why, you have got it -wrong! I never heard of <em>that</em> Korean’ one of them cried. Certainly it -was not she. But there was another who though she remained silent -seemed to him to be sighing softly to herself. He stole towards the -curtain-of-state behind which she was sitting and taking her hand in -his at a venture he whispered the poem: ‘If on this day of shooting my -arrow went astray, ’twas that in dim morning twilight only the mark -had glimmered in my view.’ And she, unable any longer to hide that she -knew him, answered with the verse: ‘Had it been with the arrows of the -heart that you had shot, though from the moon’s slim bow no brightness -came would you have missed your mark?’ Yes, it was her voice. He was -delighted, and yet....</p> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VIII_1" href="#FNanchor_VIII_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> A famous poem by Ōye no Chisato (ninth century): ‘What so lovely -as a night when the moon though dimly clouded is never wholly lost to -sight.’ -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VIII_2" href="#FNanchor_VIII_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> Kōkiden’s brothers. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VIII_3" href="#FNanchor_VIII_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> He had no right to such a costume; for though a son of the -Emperor, he had been affiliated to the Minamoto clan and no longer -counted as a member of the Imperial family. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_VIII_4" href="#FNanchor_VIII_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> Korea. -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_250"><i>{250}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br /> -<span class="larger">AOI</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE accession of the new Emperor was in many ways unfavourable to -Genji’s position. His recent promotion<a id="FNanchor_IX_1" href="#Footnote_IX_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> too brought with it heavy -responsibilities which sadly interrupted the course of his hidden -friendships, so that complaints of desertion or neglect were soon -heaped upon him from more than one quarter; while, as though Fate -wished to turn the tables upon him, the one being on earth for whose -love he longed in vain had now utterly abandoned him. Now that the -Emperor was free to live as he chose she was more constantly than ever -at his side, nor was her peace any longer disturbed by the presence of -a rival, for Kōkiden resenting the old Emperor’s neglect now seldom -left her son’s Palace. A constant succession of banquets and -entertainments, the magnificence of which became the talk of the whole -country, helped to enliven the ex-Emperor’s retirement and he was on -the whole very well content with his new condition. His only regret -concerned the Heir Apparent<a id="FNanchor_IX_2" href="#Footnote_IX_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> whose position, unsupported by any -powerful influence outside the Palace, he regarded as extremely -insecure. He constantly discussed the matter with Genji, begging him -to enlist the support of the Minamoto clan. Such conversations tended -to be somewhat <span class="pagenum"><i>{251}</i></span> embarrassing, but they gave Genji pleasure in so -far as they enabled him to take measures for the boy’s welfare.</p> - -<p>An unexpected event now occurred. Lady Rokujō’s daughter by her late -husband Prince Zembō was chosen to be the new Vestal Virgin at Ise.<a id="FNanchor_IX_3" href="#Footnote_IX_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> -Her mother, who at the time when the appointment was first announced -happened to be particularly aggrieved at Genji’s treatment of her, at -once determined to make her daughter’s extreme youth a pretext for -leaving the Capital and settling permanently at Ise. Being at the -moment, as I have said, very much out of humour, she discussed the -matter openly, making no secret of her real reasons for wishing to -leave the City. The story soon reached the ex-Emperor’s ears, and -sending for Genji he said to him ‘The late Prince my brother was, as -you probably know, regarded with the utmost affection and esteem and I -am profoundly grieved to hear that your reckless and inconsiderate -conduct has cast a slur upon his family. For his daughter indeed I -feel as much responsible as if she were of my own children. I must -trouble you in future to safeguard to the utmost of your power the -reputation of these unfortunate ladies. If you do not learn to keep -better control over your frivolous inclinations you will soon find -yourself becoming extremely unpopular.’ Why should his father be so -much upset over the matter? And Genji, smarting under the rebuke, was -about to defend himself when it occurred to him that the warning was -not at all ill-merited and he maintained a respectful silence.</p> - -<p>‘Affairs of this kind,’ the ex-Emperor continued, ‘must be managed so -that the woman, no matter who she is, need not feel that she has been -brought into a humiliating position or treated in a cynical and -off-hand way. Forget this rule, and she will soon make you feel the -unpleasant <span class="pagenum"><i>{252}</i></span> consequences of her resentment.’ ‘Wicked as he thinks -me already,’ said Genji to himself while this lecture was going on, -‘there is a much worse enormity of which he as yet knows nothing.’ And -stupefied with horror at the thought of what would ensue should his -father ever discover this hideous secret, he bowed and left the room.</p> - -<p>What the ex-Emperor had said about ruining other people’s reputations -cut him to the quick. He realized that Rokujō’s rank and widowed -position entitled her to the utmost consideration. But after all it -was not he who had made public property of the affair; on the contrary -he had done everything in his power to prevent its becoming known. -There had always been a certain condescension in her treatment of him, -arising perhaps from the inequality of their ages,<a id="FNanchor_IX_4" href="#Footnote_IX_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> and his -estrangement from her was solely due to the coldness with which she -had for a long time received him. That their private affairs were now -known not only to the ex-Emperor but also presumably to the whole -Court showed a lack of reticence which seemed to him deplorable.</p> - -<p>Among others who heard of the business was Princess Asagao.<a id="FNanchor_IX_5" href="#Footnote_IX_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> -Determined that she at least would not submit herself to such -treatment she ceased to answer his letters even with the short and -guarded replies that she had been in the habit of sending to him. -Nevertheless he found it hard to believe that so gentle-mannered a -creature was thinking unkindly of him and continued to regard her with -devoted admiration.</p> - -<p>Princess Aoi when the story reached her ears was of course distressed -by this new instance of his fickleness; but she felt that it was -useless, now that his infidelity was open and unabashed, to protest -against one particular injury, <span class="pagenum"><i>{253}</i></span> and to his surprise she seemed to -take the matter rather lightly. She was suffering much inconvenience -from her condition and her spirits were very low. Her parents were -delighted and at the same time surprised to hear of what was to come. -But their pleasure and that of all her friends was marred by grave -forebodings, and it was arranged that prayers for her health and -special services of intercession should be recited in all the temples. -At such a time it was impossible for Genji to leave her and there were -many who though his feelings had not in reality cooled towards them -felt that they were being neglected.</p> - -<p>The Vestal Virgin of Kamo still remained to be selected. The choice -fell upon Kōkiden’s daughter, San no Miya. She was a great favourite -both with her brother the new Emperor and with the Empress Mother. Her -retirement from the world was a bitter blow to them; but there was no -help for it since she alone of all the royal princesses fulfilled the -prescribed conditions.</p> - -<p>The actual ritual of investiture could not be altered, but the Emperor -saw to it that the proceedings should be attended with the utmost Pomp -and splendour; while to the customary ritual of the Kamo Festival he -added so many touches that it became a spectacle of unparalleled -magnificence. All this was due to his partiality for the Virgin Elect.</p> - -<p>On the day of her purification the Virgin is attended by a fixed -number of noblemen and princes. For this retinue the Emperor was at -pains to choose the best built and handsomest of the young men at -Court; he settled what coloured gowns they were to wear, what pattern -was to be on their breeches, and even on what saddles they should -ride. By a special decree he ordered that Prince Genji should join -this retinue, and so great was everyone’s desire to get a good view of -the procession that long beforehand <span class="pagenum"><i>{254}</i></span> people were getting ready -special carriages with which to line the route. The scene along the -highroad of the First Ward was one of indescribable excitement. Dense -crowds surged along the narrow space allotted to them, while the -stands which with a wealth of ingenious fancy had been constructed all -along the route of the procession, with gay cloaks and shawls hung -over the balustrades, were in themselves a spectacle of astonishing -beauty.</p> - -<p>It had never been Aoi’s practice to be present at such occasions as -this and in her present state of health she would not have dreamt of -doing so had not her gentlewomen pressed round her saying ‘Come Madam! -It will be no fun for us to go by ourselves and be hidden away in some -corner. It is to see Prince Genji that all these people have come -to-day. Why, all sorts of queer wild men from the mountains are here, -and people have brought their wives and children from provinces ever -so far away. If all these people who are nothing to do with him have -taken the trouble to come so far, it will be too bad if you, his own -lady, are not there!’ Overhearing this Aoi’s mother joined in. ‘You -are feeling much better just now,’ she said; ‘I think you ought to -make the effort. It will be so disappointing for your gentlewomen....’ -At the last minute Aoi changed her mind and announced that she was -going. It was now so late that there was no time to put on gala -clothes. The whole of the enclosure allotted for this purpose was -already lined with coaches which were packed so close that it was -quite impossible to find space for the large and numerous carriages of -Aoi and her train. A number of grand ladies began to make room for -her, backing their coaches away from a suitable space in the reserved -enclosure. Conspicuous among the rest were two basket-work carriages -of a rather old-fashioned pattern but with curtains such as are used -by persons of quality, <span class="pagenum"><i>{255}</i></span> very discreetly decked with draperies that -barely showed beneath the curtains, yet these draperies (whether -sleeve-favour, skirt or scarf) all of the handsomest colours. They -seemed to belong to some exalted personage who did not wish to be -recognized. When it was their turn to move, the coachmen in charge of -them would not lift a finger. ‘It is not for such as we to make way’ -they said stiffly and did not stir. Among the attendants on both sides -there was a number of young grooms who were already the worse for -liquor. They were longing for a scuffle and it was impossible to keep -them in hand. The staid and elderly outriders tried to call them back, -but they took no notice.</p> - -<p>The two carriages belonged to Princess Rokujō who had come secretly to -the festival hoping for a while to find distraction from her troubles. -Despite the steps which she had taken to conceal her identity, it was -at once suspected by some of Aoi’s gentlemen and they cried to the -grooms that this was not an equipage which could be dealt with so -high-handedly or it would be said that their lady was abusing her -position as wife of the Lord Commander. But at this moment a number of -Genji’s servants mingled in the fray. They knew Rokujō’s men by sight, -but after a moment’s embarrassment they decided not to give assistance -to the enemy by betraying his identity.</p> - -<p>Thus reinforced Aoi’s side won the day and at length her coach and -those of all her ladies were drawn up along the front row, while -Rokujō’s was pushed back among a miscellaneous collection of carts and -gigs where she could see nothing at all. She was vexed beyond measure -not only at missing what she had come to see but also that despite all -her precautions she had been recognized and (as she was convinced) -deliberately insulted. Her shaft-rest and other parts of her coach as -well were damaged and she was <span class="pagenum"><i>{256}</i></span> obliged to prop it up against some -common person’s carriage wheels. Why, she vainly asked herself, had -she come among these hateful crowds? She would go home at once. What -sense was there in waiting for the procession to come? But when she -tried to go, she found that it was impossible to force a way through -the dense crowds. She was still struggling to escape when the cry went -up that the procession was in sight. Her resolution weakened. She -would wait till Genji had passed by. He did not see her. How should -he, for the crowds flashed by him like the hurrying images that a -stream catches and breaks. She realized this, yet her disappointment -was none the less.</p> - -<p>The carriages that lined the route, decked and garlanded for this -great day, were crammed to overflowing with excited ladies who though -there was no room for them would not consent to be left behind. -Peeping out under the blinds of their coaches they smiled at the great -personages who were passing quite regardless of whether their -greetings were acknowledged. But every now and then a smile would be -rewarded by a quick glance or the backward turn of a head. Aoi’s party -was large and conspicuous. He wheeled round as he passed and saluted -its members attentively. Rider after rider again as the procession -went by would pause in front of Aoi’s coach and salute her with the -deepest respect. The humiliation of witnessing all this from an -obscure corner was more than Rokujō could bear, and murmuring the -lines ‘Though I saw him but as a shadow that falls on hurrying waters -yet knew I that at last my hour of utmost misery was come’ she burst -into tears. It was hideous that her servants should see her in this -state. Yet even while she struggled with her tears she could not find -it in her heart to regret that she had seen him in all his glory.</p> - -<p>The riders in the procession were indeed all magnificently <span class="pagenum"><i>{257}</i></span> -apparelled, each according to his own rank; in particular the young -noblemen chosen by the Emperor cut so brilliant a figure that only the -lustre of Genji’s beauty could have eclipsed their splendour. The -Commander of this Bodyguard is not generally allotted a Palace-Officer -as his special attendant, but as the occasion was of such importance -the Imperial Treasurer<a id="FNanchor_IX_6" href="#Footnote_IX_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> rode at Genji’s side. It seemed to those who -saw so many public honours showered upon him that no flower of fortune -could resist the favouring gale which blew towards his side. There -were among the crowd women of quite good birth who had dressed in -walking-skirts and come a long way on foot. There were nuns and other -female recluses who, though in order to see anything of the procession -they were obliged to endure being constantly pushed off their feet, -and though they commonly regarded all such spectacles with contempt -and aversion, were to-day declaring that they would not have missed it -for anything. There were old men grinning through toothless gums, -strange-looking girls with their hair poked away under ragged hoods -and stolid peasant boys standing with hands raised as though in -prayer, whose uncouth faces were suddenly transfigured with wonder and -joy as the procession burst into sight. Even the daughters of remote -provincial magistrates and governors who had no acquaintances whatever -in the City had expended as much coquetry upon the decoration of their -persons and coaches as if they were about to submit themselves to a -lover’s inspection, and their equipages made a bright and varied show. -If even these strangers were in such a taking, it may be imagined with -what excitement, scattered here and there among the crowd, those with -whom Genji was in secret communication watched the procession go by -and with how many hidden sighs their bosoms heaved.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{258}</i></span></p> - -<p>Prince Momozono<a id="FNanchor_IX_7" href="#Footnote_IX_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> had a seat in one of the stands. He was amazed to -see his nephew grown up into such a prodigiously handsome young man -and was alarmed lest soon the gods should cast an envious eye upon -him. Princess Asagao could not but be touched by the rare persistency -with which year after year Genji had pressed his suit. Even had he -been positively ugly she would have found it hard to resist such -importunity; so small wonder if seeing him ride by in all his -splendour she marvelled that she had held out so long. But she was -determined to know him much better before she committed herself. The -young waiting-women who were with her were careful to belaud him in -extravagant terms. To the festival itself<a id="FNanchor_IX_8" href="#Footnote_IX_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> Aoi did not go. The -affray between her servants and those of Rokujō was soon reported to -Genji. It vexed him beyond measure that such a thing should have -occurred. That the exquisitely well-bred Aoi should have been in any -way responsible for this outburst of insolent ruffianism he did not -for a moment believe; it must be the work of rough under-servants who, -though they had no actual instructions, had imbibed the notion that -all was not well between the two houses and imagined that they would -get credit for espousing their mistress’s cause. He knew well enough -the unusual vanity and susceptibility of the affronted lady. -Distressed to think of the pain which this incident must have caused -her he hastened to her house. But her daughter, the Virgin Elect of -Ise, was still in the house, and she made this a plea for turning him -away after the exchange of a few formal words. He had the greatest -possible sympathy for her; but he was feeling rather tired of coping -with injured susceptibilities.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{259}</i></span></p> - -<p>He could not face the idea of going straight back to the Great Hall. -It was the day of the Kamo festival and going to his own palace he -ordered Koremitsu to get his coach ready. ‘Look at her!’ he cried -smiling fondly at Murasaki when she appeared in all her finery -surrounded by the little children whom he had given her for playmates, -‘She must needs bring her dames to wait upon her!’ and stroking her -lovely hair which to-day Shōnagon had dressed with more than usual -care. ‘It is getting rather long’ he said; ‘to-day would not be a -bad<a id="FNanchor_IX_9" href="#Footnote_IX_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> time to have it cut’ and sending for his astrologer he bade him -consult his books. ‘The maids-of-honour first!’ he cried, nodding at -the pretty troupe of babes, and their dainty tresses were trimmed so -as to hang neatly over their diapered holiday gowns. ‘I am going to -cut yours myself’ he said to Murasaki. ‘What a lot of it there is! I -wonder how much longer it would have grown.’ Really it was quite hard -work. ‘People with very long hair ought to wear it cut rather short -over the temples’ he said at last; ‘but I have not the heart to crop -you any closer’ and he laid the knife down. Shōnagon’s gratification -knew no bounds when she heard him reciting the prayer with which the -ceremony of hair-cutting should conclude. There is a sea-weed called -<i>miru</i> which is used in the dressing of ladies’ hair and playing upon -this word (which also means ‘to see’) he recited a poem in which he -said that the miru-weed which had been used in the washing of her hair -was a token that he would forever fondly watch it grow. She answered -that like the sea-tides which visit the <i>miru</i> in its cleft he came -but went away, and often her tresses unwatched by him would like the -hidden sea-weed grow. This she wrote very prettily on a slip of paper -and though the verse had no merit in it but the charm of a childish -mind it gave him great delight. <span class="pagenum"><i>{260}</i></span> To-day the crowds were as thick -as ever. With great difficulty he managed to wedge in his carriage -close to the Royal Stables. But here they were surrounded by somewhat -turbulent young noblemen and he was looking for a quieter place when a -smart carriage crammed full of ladies drew up near by and some one in -it beckoned with a fan to Genji’s servants. ‘Will you not come over -where we are?’ said one of the ladies. ‘We will gladly make room for -you.’ Such an offer was perhaps somewhat forward, but the place she -had indicated was such a good one that Genji at once accepted the -invitation. ‘I am afraid it is very unfair that we should take your -place like this ...’ Genji was beginning to say politely, when one of -the ladies handed him a fan with the corner bent down. Here he found -the poem: ‘This flower-decked day of meeting when the great god -unfolds his portents in vain have I waited, for alas another is at thy -side.’ Surely the handwriting was familiar. Yes, it was that of the -ancient lady-of-the-bedchamber. He felt that it was time she should -give up such pranks as this and answered discouragingly: ‘Not ours -this day of tryst when garlanded and passionate the Eighty Tribes -converge.’ This put the lady out of countenance and she replied: ‘Now -bitterly do I repent that for this cheating day my head is decked with -flowers; for in name only is it a day of meeting.’</p> - -<p>Their carriages remained side by side, but Genji did not even draw up -the side-curtains, which was a disappointment to more persons than -one. The magnificence of his public appearance a few days ago was -contrasted by everyone with the unobtrusive manner in which he now -mingled with the crowd. It was agreed that his companion, whoever she -might be, must certainly be some very great lady. Genji was afraid -that his neighbour was going to prove troublesome. But fortunately -some of her companions had <span class="pagenum"><i>{261}</i></span> more discretion than their mistress, -and out of consideration for the unknown sharer of Genji’s coach -persuaded the voluble lady to restrain herself.</p> - -<p>Lady Rokujō’s sufferings were now far worse than in previous years. -Though she could no longer endure to be treated as Genji was treating -her, yet the thought of separating from him altogether and going so -far away agitated her so much that she constantly deferred her -journey. She felt too that she would become a laughingstock if it was -thought that she had been spurred to flight by Genji’s scorn; yet if -at the last moment she changed her plans and stayed behind everyone -would think her conduct extremely ill-balanced and unaccountable. Thus -her days and nights were spent in an agony of indecision and often she -repeated to herself the lines ‘My heart like the fishers’ float on Ise -shore is danced from wave to wave.’<a id="FNanchor_IX_10" href="#Footnote_IX_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> She felt herself indeed -swirled this way and that by paroxysms that sickened her but were -utterly beyond her control.</p> - -<p>Genji, though it pained him that she should feel it necessary to go so -far away did not attempt to dissuade her from the journey. ‘It is -quite natural’ he wrote, ‘that tiresome creature as I am you should -want to put me altogether out of your head. I only beg that even -though you see no use in it, you will let me see you once more before -you go. Were we to meet, you would soon realize that I care for your -happiness far more than you suppose.’ But she could not forget how -when at the River of cleansing she sought a respite from the torture -of her own doubt and indecision, rough waves had dashed her against -the rocks,<a id="FNanchor_IX_11" href="#Footnote_IX_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> and she brooded more and more upon this wrong till -there was room for no other thought in all her heart.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{262}</i></span></p> - -<p>Meanwhile Princess Aoi became strangely distraught, and it seemed at -times as though some hostile spirit had entered into her. The whole -household was plunged into such a state of anxiety and gloom that -Genji had not the heart to absent himself for more than a few hours. -It was only very occasionally that he got even as far as his own -palace. After all, she was his wife; moreover, despite all the -difficulties that had risen between them he cared for her very much -indeed. He could no longer disguise from himself that there was -something wrong with her in addition to the discomfort which naturally -accompanied her condition, and he was in a state of great distress. -Constant rituals of exorcism and divination were performed under his -direction, and it was generally agreed that all the signs indicated -possession by the spirit of some living person. Many names were tried -but to none of them did the spirit respond, and it seemed as though it -would be impossible to shift it. Aoi herself felt that some alien -thing had entered into her, and though she was not conscious of any -one definite pain or dread the sense that the thing was there never -for a moment left her. The greatest healers of the day were powerless -to eject it and it became apparent that this was no ordinary case of -‘possession’: some tremendous accumulation of malice was discharging -itself upon her. It was natural that her friends should turn over in -their minds the names of those whom Genji had most favoured. It was -whispered that only with Lady Rokujō and the girl at the Nijō-in was -he on terms of such intimacy that their jealousy would be at all -likely to produce a fatal effect. But when the doctors attempted to -conjure the spirit by the use of these names, there was no visible -response. She had not in all the world any enemy who might be -practising conscious<a id="FNanchor_IX_12" href="#Footnote_IX_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> witchcraft against her. Such indispositions -<span class="pagenum"><i>{263}</i></span> were sometimes attributed to possession by the spirit of some -dead retainer or old family-nurse; or again the malice of someone whom -the Minister, Aoi’s father, had offended might, owing to her delicate -condition, have fastened upon her instead of him. Conjecture after -conjecture was accepted and then falsified. Meanwhile she lay -perpetually weeping. Constantly, indeed, she would break out into fits -of sobbing so violent that her breath was stopped, while those about -her, in great alarm for her safety, stood by in misery not knowing -what to do.</p> - -<p>The ex-Emperor enquired after her continually. He even ordered special -services to be said on her behalf, and these attentions served to -remind her parents in what high estimation she was held at the Court. -Not among her friends only but throughout the whole country the news -of her illness caused great distress. Rokujō heard of her sufferings -with deep concern. For years they had been in open rivalry for Genji’s -favours, but even after that wretched affair of the coaches (though it -must be admitted that this had greatly incensed her) she had never -gone so far as to wish evil against the Princess. She herself was very -unwell. She began to feel that the violent and distracting emotions -which continually assailed her had in some subtle way unhinged her -mind and she determined to seek spiritual assistance at a place some -miles distant from her home. Genji heard of this and in great anxiety -concerning her at once set out for the house where she was reported to -be staying. It lay beyond the City precincts and he was obliged to go -with the greatest secrecy.<a id="FNanchor_IX_13" href="#Footnote_IX_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> He begged her to forgive him for not -having come to see her for so long. ‘I have not been having a very -cheerful time’ he said and gave her some account of Aoi’s condition. -He wanted to <span class="pagenum"><i>{264}</i></span> make her feel that if he had stayed away it had been -from a melancholy necessity and not because he had found more amusing -company elsewhere. ‘It is not so much my own anxiety that unnerves me -as the spectacle of the appalling helplessness and misery into which -her illness has plunged her wretched parents, and it was in the hope -of forgetting for a little while all these sickroom horrors that I -came to see you here to-day. If only just for this once you could -overlook all my offences and be kind to me....’</p> - -<p>His pleading had no effect. Her attitude was more hostile than before. -He was not angry with her, nor indeed was he surprised. Day was -already breaking when, unsolaced, he set out for home. But as she -watched him go his beauty suddenly made havoc of all her resolutions -and again she felt that it was madness to leave him. Yet what had she -to stay for? Aoi was with child and this could only be a sign that he -had made his peace with her. Henceforward he could lead a life of -irreproachable rectitude and if once in a way he came to make his -excuse as he had come to-day, what purpose would that serve, save to -keep ever fresh the torment of her desires? Thus when his letter came -next day it found her more distraught than before: ‘The sick woman who -for a few days past had shown some improvement is again suffering -acutely and it is at present impossible for me to leave her.’ Certain -that this was a mere excuse she sent in reply the poem ‘The fault is -mine and the regret, if careless as the peasant girl who stoops too -low amid the sprouting rice I soiled my sleeve in love’s dark road.’ -At the end of her letter she reminded him of the old song: ‘Now -bitterly do I repent that ever I brought my pitcher to the mountain -well where waters were but deep enough to soil my sleeve.’ He looked -at the delicate handwriting. Who was there, even among women of her -high lineage and breeding, that could rival the <span class="pagenum"><i>{265}</i></span> ineffable grace -and elegance with which this small note was penned? That one whose -mind and person alike so strongly attracted him must now by his own -act be lost to him forever, was a bitter thought. Though it was almost -dark, he sat down and wrote to her: ‘Do not say that the waters have -but wetted your sleeve. For the shallowness is in your comparison -only; not in my affections!’ And to this he added the poem: ‘’Tis you, -you only who have loitered among the shallow pools: while I till all -my limbs were drenched have battled through the thickets of love’s -dark track.’ And he ended with the words: ‘Had but a ray of comfort -lighted the troubles of this house, I should myself have been the -bearer of this note.’</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Aoi’s possession had returned in full force; she was in a -state of pitiable torment. It reached Lady Rokujō’s ears that the -illness had been attributed by some to the operation of her ‘living -spirit.’ Others, she was told, believed that her father’s ghost was -avenging the betrayal of his daughter. She brooded constantly upon the -nature of her own feelings towards Aoi, but could discover in herself -nothing but intense unhappiness. Of hostility towards Aoi she could -find no trace at all. Yet she could not be sure whether somewhere in -the depths of a soul consumed by anguish some spark of malice had not -lurked. Through all the long years during which she had loved and -suffered, though it had often seemed to her that greater torment could -not anywhere in the world exist, her whole being had never once been -so utterly bruised and shattered as in these last days. It had begun -with that hateful episode of the coaches. She had been scorned, -treated as though she had no right to exist. Yes, it was true that -since the Festival of Purification her mind had been buffeted by such -a tempest of conflicting resolutions that sometimes it seemed as -though she had lost all control over her own <span class="pagenum"><i>{266}</i></span> thoughts. She -remembered how one night she had suddenly, in the midst of agonizing -doubts and indecisions, found that she had been dreaming. It seemed to -her that she had been in a large magnificent room, where lay a girl -whom she knew to be the Princess Aoi. Snatching her by the arm she had -dragged and mauled the prostrate figure, with an outburst of brutal -fury such as in her waking life would have been utterly foreign to -her. Since then she had had the same dream several times. How -terrible! It seemed then that it was really possible for one’s spirit -to leave the body and break out into emotions which the waking mind -would not countenance. Even where someone’s actions are all but -irreproachable (she reflected) people take a malicious delight in -saying nothing about the good he has done and everything about the -evil. With what joy would they seize upon such a story as this! That -after his death a man’s ghost should pursue his enemies is a thing -which seems to be of constant occurrence, yet even this is taken as a -sign that the dead man was of a fiendishly venomous and malignant -character and his reputation is utterly destroyed. ‘What then will -become of me if it is thought that while still alive I have been -guilty of so hideous a crime?’ She must face her fate. She had lost -Genji for ever. If she were to keep any control at all over her own -thoughts she must first of all find some way of putting him wholly out -of mind. She kept on reminding herself not to think of him, so that -this very resolve led her in the end to think of him but the more.</p> - -<p>The Virgin of Ise should by rights have entered upon her duties before -the end of the year, but difficulties of various kinds arose and it -was not till the autumn of the next year that she could at last be -received. She was to enter the Palace in-the-Fields<a id="FNanchor_IX_14" href="#Footnote_IX_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> in the ninth -month, but this <span class="pagenum"><i>{267}</i></span> was decided so late that the arrangements for -her second Purification had to be made in great haste. It was -very inconvenient that at this crisis her mother, so far from -superintending the preparations, spent hour after hour lying dazed and -helpless upon her bed. At last the priests arrived to fetch the girl -away. They took a grave view of the mother’s condition and gave her -the benefit of their presence by offering up many prayers and -incantations. But week after week she remained in the same condition, -showing no symptom which seemed actually dangerous, yet all the time -(in some vague and indefinite way) obviously very ill. Genji sent -constantly to enquire after her, but she saw clearly that his -attention was occupied by quite other matters. Aoi’s delivery was not -yet due and no preparations for it had been made, when suddenly there -were signs that it was close at hand. She was in great distress, but -though the healers recited prayer upon prayer their utmost efforts -could not shift by one jot the spiteful power which possessed her. All -the greatest miracle-workers of the land were there; the utter failure -of their ministrations irritated and perplexed them. At last, daunted -by the potency of their incantations, the spirit that possessed her -found voice and, weeping bitterly, she was heard to say: ‘Give me a -little respite; there is a matter of which Prince Genji and I must -speak.’ The healers nodded at one another as though to say ‘Now we -shall learn something worth knowing,’ for they were convinced that the -‘possession’ was speaking through the mouth of the possessed, and they -hurried Genji to her bedside. Her parents thinking that, her end being -near, she desired to give some last secret injunction to Genji, -retired to the back of the room. The priests too ceased their -incantations and began to recite the <i>Hokkekyo</i><a id="FNanchor_IX_15" href="#Footnote_IX_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> in <span class="pagenum"><i>{268}</i></span> low impressive -tones. He raised the bed-curtain. She looked lovely as ever as -she lay there, very big with child, and any man who saw her even -now would have found himself strangely troubled by her beauty. How -much the more then Prince Genji, whose heart was already overflowing -with tenderness and remorse! The plaited tresses of her long hair -stood out in sharp contrast to her white jacket.<a id="FNanchor_IX_16" href="#Footnote_IX_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> Even to this -loose, sick-room garb her natural grace imparted the air of a -fashionable gown! He took her hand. ‘It is terrible’ he began, ‘to see -you looking so unhappy ...’ he could say no more. Still she gazed at -him, but through his tears he saw that there was no longer in her eyes -the wounded scorn that he had come to know so well, but a look of -forbearance and tender concern; and while she watched him weep her own -eyes brimmed with tears. It would not do for him to go on crying like -this. Her father and mother would be alarmed; besides, it was -upsetting Aoi herself, and meaning to cheer her he said: ‘Come, things -are not so bad as that! You will soon be much better. But even if -anything should happen, it is certain that we shall meet again in -worlds to come. Your father and mother too, and many others, love you -so dearly that between your fate and theirs must be some sure bond -that will bring you back to them in many, many lives that are to be.’ -Suddenly she interrupted him: ‘No, no. That is not it. But stop these -prayers awhile. They do me great harm,’ and drawing him nearer to her -she went on ‘I did not think that you would come. I have waited for -you till all my soul is burnt with longing.’ She spoke wistfully, -tenderly; and still in the same tone recited the verse ‘Bind thou, as -the seam of a skirt is braided, this shred, that from my soul despair -and loneliness have sundered.’ The voice in which these words were -said was <span class="pagenum"><i>{269}</i></span> not Aoi’s; nor was the manner hers. He knew someone -whose voice was very like that. Who was it? Why, yes; surely only -she,—the Lady Rokujō. Once or twice he had heard people suggest that -something of this kind might be happening; but he had always rejected -the idea as hideous and unthinkable, believing it to be the malicious -invention of some unprincipled scandalmonger, and had even denied that -such ‘possession’ ever took place. Now he had seen one with his own -eyes. Ghastly, unbelievable as they were, such things did happen in -real life. Controlling himself at last he said in a low voice: ‘I am -not sure who is speaking to me. Do not leave me in doubt....’ Her -answer proved only too conclusively that he had guessed aright. To his -horror her parents now came back to the bed, but she had ceased to -speak, and seeing her now lying quietly her mother thought the attack -was over, and was coming towards the bed carrying a basin of hot water -when Aoi suddenly started up and bore a child. For the moment all was -gladness and rejoicing; but it seemed only too likely that the spirit -which possessed her had but been temporarily dislodged; for a fierce -fit of terror was soon upon her, as though the thing (whatever it was) -were angry at having been put to the trouble of shifting, so that -there was still grave anxiety about the future. The Abbot of Tendai -and the other great ecclesiastics who were gathered together in the -room attributed her easy delivery to the persistency of their own -incantations and prayers, and as they hastily withdrew to seek -refreshment and repose they wiped the sweat from their brows with an -expression of considerable self-satisfaction. Her friends who had for -days been plunged in the deepest gloom now began to take heart a -little, believing that although there was no apparent improvement yet -now that the child was safely born she could not fail to mend. The -prayers and incantations <span class="pagenum"><i>{270}</i></span> began once more, but throughout the -house there was a new feeling of confidence; for the amusement of -looking after the baby at least gave them some relief from the strain -under which they had been living for so many days. Handsome presents -were sent by the ex-Emperor, the Royal Princes and all the Court, -forming an array which grew more dazzling each night.<a id="FNanchor_IX_17" href="#Footnote_IX_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> The fact -that the child was a boy made the celebrations connected with his -birth all the more sumptuous and elaborate.</p> - -<p>The news of this event took Lady Rokujō somewhat aback. The last -report she had heard from the Great Hall was that the confinement was -bound to be very dangerous. And now they said that there had not been -the slightest difficulty. She thought this very peculiar. She had -herself for a long while been suffering from the most disconcerting -sensations. Often she felt as though her whole personality had in some -way suddenly altered. It was as though she were a stranger to herself. -Recently she had noticed that a smell of mustard-seed incense for -which she was at a loss to account was pervading her clothes and hair. -She took a hot bath and put on other clothes; but still the same odour -of incense pursued her. It was bad enough even in private to have this -sensation of being as it were estranged from oneself. But now her body -was playing tricks upon her which her attendants must have noticed and -were no doubt discussing behind her back. Yet there was not one person -among those about her with whom she could bring herself to discuss -such things and all this pent-up misery seemed only to increase the -strange process of dissolution which had begun to attack her mind.</p> - -<p>Now that Genji was somewhat less anxious about Aoi’s condition the -recollection of his extraordinary conversation <span class="pagenum"><i>{271}</i></span> with her at the -crisis of her attack kept on recurring in his mind, and it made so -painful an impression upon him that though it was now a long time -since he had communicated with Rokujō and he knew that she must be -deeply offended, he felt that no kind of intimacy with her would ever -again be possible. Yet in the end pity prevailed and he sent her a -letter. It seemed indeed that it would at present be heartless to -absent himself at all from one who had just passed through days of -such terrible suffering and from her friends who were still in a state -of the gravest anxiety, and all his secret excursions were abandoned. -Aoi still remained in a condition so serious that he was not allowed -to see her. The child was as handsome an infant as you could wish to -see. The great interest which Genji took in it and the zest with which -he entered into all the arrangements which were made for its welfare -delighted Aoi’s father, inasmuch as they seemed signs of a better -understanding between his daughter and Genji; and though her slow -recovery caused him great anxiety, he realized that an illness such as -that through which she had just passed must inevitably leave -considerable traces behind it and he persuaded himself that her -condition was less dangerous than one might have supposed. The child -reminded Genji of the Heir Apparent and made him long to see -Fujitsubo’s little son again. The desire took such strong hold upon -him that at last he sent Aoi a message in which he said: ‘It is a very -long time since I have been to the Palace or indeed have paid any -visits at all. I am beginning to feel the need of a little -distraction, so to-day I am going out for a short while and should -like to see you before I go. I do not want to feel that we are -completely cut off from one another.’ So he pleaded, and he was -supported by her ladies who told her that Prince Genji was her own -dear Lord and that she ought not to be so proud and stiff with him. -She feared that her <span class="pagenum"><i>{272}</i></span> illness had told upon her looks and was for -speaking to him with a curtain between, but this too her gentlewomen -would not allow. He brought a stool close to where she was lying and -began speaking to her of one thing or another. Occasionally she put in -a word or two, but it was evident that she was still very weak. -Nevertheless it was difficult to believe that she had so recently -seemed almost at the point of death. They were talking quietly -together about those worst days of her illness and how they now seemed -like an evil dream when suddenly he recollected the extraordinary -conversation he had had with her when she was lying apparently at her -last gasp and filled with a sudden bitterness, he said to her: ‘There -are many other things that I must one day talk to you about. But you -seem very tired and perhaps I had better leave you.’ So saying he -arranged her pillows, brought her warm water to wash in and in fact -played the sick-nurse so well that those about her wondered where he -had acquired the art. Still peerlessly beautiful but weak and listless -she seemed as she lay motionless on the bed at times almost to fade -out of existence. He gazed at her with fond concern. Her hair, every -ringlet still in its right place, was spread out over the pillow. -Never before had her marvellous beauty so strangely impressed him. Was -it conceivable that year after year he should have allowed such a -woman to continue in estrangement from him? Still he stood gazing at -her. ‘I must start for the Palace,’ he said at last; ‘but I shall not -be away long. Now that you are better you must try to make your mother -feel less anxious about you when she comes presently; for though she -tries hard not to show it, she is still terribly distressed about you. -You must begin now to make an effort and sit up for a little while -each day. I think it is partly because she spoils you so much that you -are taking so long to get well.’ As he left the room, <span class="pagenum"><i>{273}</i></span> robed in -all the magnificence of his court attire she followed him with her -eyes more fixedly than ever in her life before. The attendance of the -officers who took part in the autumn session was required, and Aoi’s -father accompanied Genji to the Palace, as did also her brother who -needed the Minister’s assistance in making their arrangements for the -coming political year. Many of their servants went too and the Great -Hall wore a deserted and melancholy aspect. Suddenly Aoi was seized -with the same choking-fit as before and was soon in a desperate -condition. This news was brought to Genji in the Palace and breaking -off his Audience he at once made for home. The rest followed in hot -haste and though it was Appointment Evening<a id="FNanchor_IX_18" href="#Footnote_IX_18" class="fnanchor">18</a> they gave up all -thought of attending the proceedings, knowing that the tragic turn of -affairs at the Great Hall would be considered a sufficient excuse. It -was too late to get hold of the abbot from Mount Tendai or any of the -dignitaries who had given their assistance before. It was appalling -that just when she seemed to have taken a turn for the better she -should so suddenly again be at the point of death, and the people at -the Great Hall felt utterly helpless and bewildered. Soon the house -was full of lackeys who were arriving from every side with messages of -sympathy and enquiry; but from the inhabitants of that stricken house -they could obtain no information, for they seemed to do nothing but -rush about from one room to another in a state of frenzy which it was -terrifying to behold.</p> - -<p>Remembering that several times already her ‘possession’ had reduced -her to a trance-like state, they did not for some time attempt to lay -out the body or even touch her pillows, but left her lying just as she -was. After two or three days however it became clear that life was -extinct.</p> - -<p>Amid the general lamentations which ensued Genji’s <span class="pagenum"><i>{274}</i></span> spirit sank -with the apathy of utter despair. Sorrow had followed too fast upon -sorrow; life as he saw it now was but a succession of futile miseries. -The messages of condolence which poured in from all the most exalted -quarters in the Court and City merely fatigued and exasperated him.</p> - -<p>The warmth of the old ex-Emperor’s messages and his evident personal -distress at Aoi’s death were indeed very flattering and mingled a -certain feeling of gratification with her father’s perpetual weeping. -At the suggestion of a friend various drastic means were resorted to -in the hope that it might yet be possible to kindle some spark of life -in the body. But it soon became evident, even to their reluctant eyes, -that all this was too late, and heavy at heart they took the body to -Toribeno. Here, in the great flat cremation-ground beyond the town, -the horrors that they had dreaded were only too swiftly begun. Even in -this huge open space there was scarcely room for the crowds of -mourners who had come from all the great palaces of the City to follow -behind the bier and for the concourses of priests who, chanting their -liturgies, flocked from the neighbouring temples. The ex-Emperor was -of course represented; so were the Princess Kōkiden and the Heir -Apparent; while many other important people came in person and mingled -with the crowd. Never had any funeral aroused so universal a -demonstration of interest and sympathy. Her father was not present: -‘Now in my declining years to have lost one who was so young and -strong is a blow too staggering ...’ he said and he could no longer -check the tears which he was striving to conceal. His grief was -heart-rending. All night long the mournful ceremonies proceeded, but -at last only a few pitiful ashes remained upon the pyre and in the -morning the mourners returned to their homes. It was in fact, save for -its grandeurs, much like any other funeral; but it so happened that -save in one case only death had <span class="pagenum"><i>{275}</i></span> not yet come Genji’s way and the -scenes of that day haunted him long afterwards with hideous persistency.</p> - -<p>The ceremony took place in the last week of the eighth month. Seeing -that from Aoi’s father all the soft brightness of this autumn morning -was hid in the twilight of despair and well knowing what thoughts must -be passing through his mind, Genji came to him and pointing to the sky -whispered the following verse: ‘Because of all the mists that wreathe -the autumn sky I know not which ascended from my lady’s bier, -henceforth upon the country of the clouds from pole to pole I gaze -with love.’</p> - -<p>At last he was back in his room. He lay down, but could not sleep. His -thoughts went back over the years that he had known her. Why had he -been content lazily to assume that in the end all would go right and -meanwhile amused himself regardless of her resentment? Why had he let -year after year go by without managing even at the very end to -establish any real intimacy, any sympathy between them? The bitterest -remorse now filled his heart; but what use was it? His servants -brought him his light grey mourner’s dress and the strange thought -floated into his mind ‘What if I had died instead and not she? She -would be getting into the woman-mourner’s deep-dyed robe,<a id="Close_Quote5"></a><ins title="Original has no closing quote.">’</ins> and he -recited the poem: ‘Though light in hue the dress which in bereavement -custom bids me wear, yet black my sorrow as the gown thou wouldst have -worn;’ and as thus clad he told his rosary those about him noted that -even the dull hues of mourning could not make him look peaked or drab. -He read many sūtras in a low voice, among them the liturgy to -Samantabhadra as Dispenser of the Dharmadhātu Samādhi, which he -recited with an earnestness more impressive in its way than the -dexterous intonation of the professional cleric. Next he visited the -new-born child and took some comfort in the <span class="pagenum"><i>{276}</i></span> reflection that she -had at least left behind her this memorial of their love. Genji did -not attempt to go even for the day to the Nijō-in, but remained buried -in recollections and regrets with no other occupation save the -ordering of masses for her soul. He did however bring himself to write -a few letters, among them one to Rokujō. The Virgin Elect was already -in charge of the Guardsmen of the Gate and would soon be passed on by -them to the Palace-in-the-Fields. Rokujō accordingly made her -daughter’s situation an excuse for sending no reply.<a id="FNanchor_IX_19" href="#Footnote_IX_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> He was now so -weary of life and its miseries that he seriously contemplated the -taking of priestly vows, and might perhaps have done so, had there not -been a new bond which seemed to tie him irrevocably to the world. But -stay, there was the girl Murasaki too, waiting for him in the wing of -his palace. How unhappy she must have been during all this long time! -That night lying all alone within his royal curtains, though watchmen -were going their rounds not far away, he felt very lonely and -remembering that ‘autumn is no time to lie alone,’ he sent for the -sweetest voiced among the chaplains of the palace. His chanting -mingled with the sounds of early dawn was indeed of almost unendurable -beauty. But soon the melancholy of late autumn, the murmur of the -rising wind took possession of him, and little used to lonely nights -he found it hard to keep his bed till morning. Looking out he saw that -a heavy mist lay over the garden beds; yet despite the mist it was -clear that something was tied to the stem of a fine chrysanthemum not -far away. It was a letter written on dark blue paper.<a id="FNanchor_IX_20" href="#Footnote_IX_20" class="fnanchor">20</a> The -messenger had left it there and gone away. ‘What a charming idea!’ he -was thinking when he suddenly recognized the hand. <span class="pagenum"><i>{277}</i></span> It was from -Rokujō. She began by saying she did not think, having regard to her -daughter’s situation, that he would be surprised at her long delay in -answering his previous note. She added an acrostic poem in which, -playing upon the word chrysanthemum (<i>kiku</i>) she told him of her -distress at hearing (<i>kiku</i>) of his bereavement. ‘The beauty of the -morning’ she ended, ‘turned my thoughts more than ever towards you and -your sorrow; that is why I could not choose but answer you.’ It was -written even more elegantly than usual; but he tossed it aside. Her -condolences wounded him, for after what he had seen he knew that they -could not be sincere. Nevertheless he felt that it would be too harsh -to break off all communication with her; that he should do so would in -fact tend to incriminate her, and this was the last thing he desired. -After all, it was probably not <em>that</em> at all which had brought about -the disaster; maybe Aoi’s fate was sealed in any case. If only he had -chanced never to see or hear the fatal operation of her spirit! As it -was, argue with himself as he might, he doubted whether he would ever -be able to efface the impression of what had been revealed to him at -that hideous scene.</p> - -<p>He had the excuse that he was still in deep mourning and that to -receive a letter from him would inconvenience her at this stage of her -daughter’s Purification. But after turning the matter over in his mind -for a long while, he decided that it would be unfeeling not to answer -a letter which had evidently been written with the sole object of -giving him pleasure and on a paper lightly tinted with brown he wrote: -‘Though I have let so many days slip by, believe me that you have not -been absent from my thoughts. If I was reluctant to answer your -letter, it was because, as a mourner, I was loath to trespass upon the -sanctity which now surrounds your home, and this I trusted <span class="pagenum"><i>{278}</i></span> that -you would understand. Do not brood overmuch upon what has happened; -for “go we late or soon, more frail our lives than dew-drops hanging -in the morning light.” For the present, think of it no more. I say -this now, because it is not possible for us to meet.’</p> - -<p>She received the letter at her daughter’s place of preparation, but -did not read it till she was back in her own house. At a glance she -knew at what he was hinting. So he too accused her! And at last the -hideous conviction of her own guilt forced itself upon her acceptance. -Her misery increased tenfold.</p> - -<p>If even Genji had reason to believe in her guilt, her brother-in-law, -the ex-Emperor, must already have been informed. What was he thinking -of her? Her dead husband, Prince Zembō, had been the brother whom he -had loved best. He had accepted the guardianship of the little girl -who was now about to be consecrated and at his brother’s earnest -entreaty had promised to undertake her education and indeed treat her -as though she were his own child. The old Emperor had constantly -invited the widowed lady and her daughter to live with him in the -Palace, but she was reluctant to accept this offer, which indeed was -somewhat impracticable. Meanwhile she allowed herself to listen to -Genji’s youthful addresses and was soon living in constant torment and -agitation lest her indiscretion should be discovered. During the whole -period of this escapade she was in such a state of mingled excitement -and apprehension that she scarcely knew what she was doing. In the -world at large she had the reputation of being a great beauty -and this, combined with her exalted lineage, brought to the -Palace-in-the-Fields, so soon as it was known that she had repaired -thither with her daughter, a host of frivolous dandies from the Court, -who made it their business to force upon her their fashionable -attentions <span class="pagenum"><i>{279}</i></span> morning, noon and night. Genji heard of this and did -not blame them. He could only think it was a thousand pities that a -woman endowed with every talent and charm, should take it into her -head that she had done with the world and prepare to remove herself to -so remote a place. He could not help thinking that she would find Ise -extremely dull when she got there.</p> - -<p>Though the masses for Aoi’s soul were now over, he remained in -retirement till the end of the seven weeks. He was not used to doing -nothing and the time hung heavy on his hands. Often he sent for Tō no -Chūjō to tell him all that was going on in the world, and among much -serious information Chūjō would often seek to distract him by -discussing the strange escapades in which they had sometimes shared.</p> - -<p>On one of these occasions he indulged in some jokes at the expense of -the ancient lady-of-the-bedchamber with whom Genji had so indiscreetly -become involved. ‘Poor old lady!’ Genji protested; ‘it is too bad to -make fun of her in this way. Please do not do it.’ But all the same he -had to admit to himself that he could never think of her without -smiling. Then Chūjō told him the whole story of how he had followed -and watched him on that autumn night, the first after the full -moon,<a id="FNanchor_IX_21" href="#Footnote_IX_21" class="fnanchor">21</a> and many other stories besides of his own adventures and -other people’s. But in the end they fell to talking of their common -loss, and agreeing that taken all in all life was but a sad business -they parted in tears.</p> - -<p>Some weeks afterwards on a gloomy wet evening Chūjō strode into the -room looking somewhat self-conscious in the light grey winter cloak -and breeches which he was to-day wearing for the first time.<a id="FNanchor_IX_22" href="#Footnote_IX_22" class="fnanchor">22</a> Genji -was leaning against the balustrade of the balcony above the main -western door. <span class="pagenum"><i>{280}</i></span> For a long while he had been gazing at the frost-clad -gardens which surrounded the house. A high wind was blowing and -swift showers dashed against the trees. Near to tears he murmured -to himself the line ‘Tell me whether her soul be in the rain or -whether in the clouds above!’<a id="FNanchor_IX_23" href="#Footnote_IX_23" class="fnanchor">23</a> And as Chūjō watched him sitting -there, his chin resting upon his hand, he thought the soul of one who -had been wedded to so lovely a youth would not indeed have borne quite -to renounce the scene of her earthly life and must surely be hovering -very near him. Still gazing with eager admiration Chūjō came to -Genji’s side. He noticed now that though his friend had not in any -other way abated the plainness of his dress, he had to-day put on a -coloured sash. This streak of deep red showed up against his grey -cloak (which though still a summer one<a id="FNanchor_IX_24" href="#Footnote_IX_24" class="fnanchor">24</a> was of darker colour than -that which he had lately been wearing) in so attractive a way that -though the effect was very different from that of the magnificent -attires which Genji had affected in happier days, yet Chūjō could not -for a long while take his eyes off him. At last he too gazed up at the -stormy sky, and remembering the Chinese verse which he had heard Genji -repeat he recited the poem: ‘Though to rain her soul be turned, yet -where in the clouded vault of heaven is that one mist-wreath which is -she?’ And Genji answered: ‘Since she whom once we knew beyond the -country of the clouds is fled, two months of storm and darkness now -have seared the wintry earth below.’</p> - -<p>The depth of Genji’s feeling was evident. Sometimes <span class="pagenum"><i>{281}</i></span> Chūjō had -thought it was merely dread of the old Emperor’s rebukes—coupled with -a sense of obligation towards Aoi’s father whose kindness had always -been so marked and also towards the Princess her mother, who had -cherished him with an unfailing patience and fondness—that had made it -difficult for him to break off a relationship which was in fact -becoming very irksome. Often indeed Genji’s apparent indifference to -Aoi had been very painful to him. Now it was evident to him that she -had never ceased to hold an important place in his affections, and -this made him deplore more bitterly than ever the tragedy of her early -death. Whatever he did and wherever he went he felt that a light was -gone out of his life and he was very despondent.</p> - -<p>Among the withered undergrowth in the garden Genji found to his -delight a few gentians still blossoming and after Chūjō was gone he -plucked some and bade the wet-nurse Saisō give them to the child’s -grandmother, together with the verse: ‘This gentian flower that -lingered amid the withered grasses of the hedge I send you in -remembrance of the autumn that is passed.’ ‘To you’ he added ‘it will -seem a poor thing in contrast to the flowers that are gone.’ The -Princess looked at her grandson’s innocent smiling face and thought -that in beauty he was not far behind the child she had lost. Already -her tears were pouring faster than a stormy wind shakes down the dry -leaves from a tree, and when she read Genji’s message they flowed -faster still. This was her answer: ‘New tears, but tears of joy it -brings,—this blossom from a meadow that is now laid waste.’</p> - -<p>Still in need of some small employment to distract his thoughts, -though it was already getting dark he began a letter to Princess -Asagao who, he felt sure, must long ago have been told of his -bereavement. Although it was a long time since he had heard from her -he made no reference to their former friendship; his letter was indeed -so formal <span class="pagenum"><i>{282}</i></span> that he allowed the messenger to read it before he -started. It was written on Chinese paper tinted sky-blue. With it was -the poem ‘When I look back upon an autumn fraught with diverse sorrows -I find no dusk dimmed with such tears as I to-night have shed.’ He -took great pains with his handwriting and her ladies thought it a -shame that so elegant a note should remain unanswered. In the end she -reached the same conclusion. ‘Though my heart goes out towards you in -your affliction,’ she answered, ‘I see no cause to abandon my -distrust.’ And to this she added the poem ‘Since I heard that the -mists of autumn had vanished and left desolate winter in your house, I -have thought often of you as I watched the streaming sky.’ This was -all, and it was written hastily, but to Genji, who for so long had -received no news from her, it gave as much pleasure as the longest and -most ingenious epistle.</p> - -<p>It is in general the unexplored that attracts us, and Genji tended to -fall most deeply in love with those who gave him least encouragement. -The ideal condition for the continuance of his affection was that the -beloved, much occupied elsewhere, should grant him no more than an -occasional favour. There was one<a id="FNanchor_IX_25" href="#Footnote_IX_25" class="fnanchor">25</a> who admirably fulfilled these -conditions, but unfortunately her high rank and conspicuous position -in society brought with them too many material difficulties. But -little Murasaki was different. There was no need to bring her up on -this principle. He had not during the long days of his mourning ever -forgotten her and he knew that she must be feeling very dull without -him. But he regarded her merely as an orphan child whose care he had -undertaken and it was a comfort to him to think that here at least was -someone he could leave for a little while without anxiously wondering -all the time whether he would get into trouble.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{283}</i></span></p> - -<p>It was now quite dark, and gathering the people of the house round the -great lamp he got them to tell him stories. There was among them a -gentlewoman named Chūnagon with whom he had for years been secretly in -love. He still felt drawn towards her, but at such a time there could -of course be no thought of any closer tie. Seeing now that he was -looking despondent she came over to him and when they had talked for a -while of various matters at large, Genji said to her: ‘During these -last weeks, when all has been quiet in the house, I have grown so used -to the company of you gentlewomen that if a time comes when we can no -longer meet so frequently, I shall miss you very much. That was why I -was feeling particularly depressed; though indeed whichever way I turn -my thoughts I find small matter for consolation!’ Here he paused and -some of the ladies shed a few tears. At last one of them said: ‘I -know, my Lord, how dark a cloud has fallen upon your life and would -not venture to compare our sorrow with yours. But I would have you -remember what it must mean to us that henceforward you will never....’ -‘Do not say never’ answered Genji kindly. ‘I do not forget my friends -so easily as that. If there are any among you who, mindful of the -past, wish still to serve in this house, they may count upon it that -so long as I live I shall never desert them.’ And as he sat gazing -into the lamplight, with tears a-glitter in his eyes, they felt they -were fortunate indeed in having such a protector.</p> - -<p>There was among these gentlewomen a little orphan girl who had been -Aoi’s favourite among all her maids. Well knowing how desolate the -child must now be feeling he said to her kindly: ‘Whose business is it -now but mine to look after little Miss Até?’ The girl burst into -tears. In her short tunic, darker than the dresses the others were -wearing, with black neckerchief and dark blue breeches she was a <span class="pagenum"><i>{284}</i></span> -charming figure. ‘I hope’ continued Genji ‘that there are some who -despite the dull times they are likely to have in this house will -choose, in memory of the past, to devote themselves to the care of the -little prince whom I am leaving behind. If all who knew his mother are -now to be dispersed his plight will be more wretched than before.’ -Again he promised never to forget them, but they knew well enough that -his visits would be few and far between, and felt very despondent.</p> - -<p>That night he distributed among these waiting-ladies and among all the -servants at the Great Hall according to their rank and condition -various keepsakes and trifles that had belonged to their young -mistress, giving to each whatever he thought most likely to keep her -memory alive, without regard to his own preferences and dislikes in -the household.</p> - -<p>He had determined that he could not much longer continue this mode of -life and must soon return to his own palace. While his servants were -dragging out his coach and his gentlemen assembling in front of his -rooms, as though on purpose to delay him a violent rainstorm began, -with a wind that tore the last leaves from the trees and swept them -over the earth with wild rapidity. The gentlemen who had assembled in -front of the house were soon drenched to the skin. He had meant to go -to the Palace, then to the Nijō-in and return to sleep at the Great -Hall. But on such a night this was impossible, and he ordered his -gentlemen to proceed straight to the Nijō-in where he would join them -subsequently. As they trooped off each of them felt (though none of -them was likely to be seeing the Great Hall for by any means the last -time) that to-day a chapter in his life was closed. Both the Minister -and his wife, when they heard that Genji was not returning that night, -also felt that they had reached a new and bitter stage in the progress -of their affliction. <span class="pagenum"><i>{285}</i></span> To Aoi’s mother he sent this letter: ‘The -ex-Emperor has expressed a strong desire to see me and I feel bound to -go to the Palace. Though I shall not be absent for many days, yet it -is now so long a time since I left this house that I feel dazed at the -prospect of facing the great world once more. I could not go without -informing you of my departure, but am in no condition to pay you a -visit.’ The Princess was still lying with closed eyes, her thoughts -buried in the profoundest gloom. She did not send a reply. Presently -Aoi’s father came to Genji’s apartments. He found it very hard to bear -up, and during the interview clung fast to his son-in-law’s sleeve -with an air of dependence which was pathetic to witness. After much -hesitation he began at last to say: ‘We old men are prone to tears -even when small matters are amiss; you must not wonder then that under -the weight of so terrible a sorrow I sometimes find myself breaking -into fits of weeping which I am at a loss to control. At such moments -of weakness and disarray I had rather be where none can see me, and -that is why I have not as yet ventured even to pay my respects to his -Majesty your good father. If opportunity offers, I beg you to explain -this to him. To be left thus desolate in the last years of life is a -sore trial, a very sore trial indeed....’ The effort which it cost him -to say these words was distressing for Genji to watch and he hastened -to assure the old Minister that he would make matters right at the -Court. ‘Though I do not doubt,’ he added, ‘that my father has already -guessed the reason of your absence.’ As it was still raining heavily -the Minister urged him to start before it grew quite dark. But Genji -would not leave the house till he had taken a last look at the inner -rooms. His father-in-law followed him. In the space beyond Aoi’s -curtained seat, packed away behind a screen, some thirty gentlewomen -all clad in dark grey weeds were huddled together, forlorn and tearful. -<span class="pagenum"><i>{286}</i></span> ‘These hapless ladies,’ said the Minister, turning to Genji, -‘though they take some comfort in the thought that you are leaving -behind you one whose presence will sometimes draw you to this house, -well know that it will never again be your rightful home, and this -distresses them no less than the loss of their dear mistress. For -years they had hoped against hope that you and she would at last be -reconciled. Consider then how bitter for them must be the day of this, -your final departure.’ ‘Let them take heart’ said Genji; ‘for whereas -while my lady was alive I would often of set purpose absent myself -from her in the vain hope that upon my return I should find her less -harshly disposed towards me, now that she is dead I have no longer any -cause to shun this house, as soon you shall discover.’</p> - -<p>When he had watched Genji drive away, Aoi’s father went to her -bedroom. All her things were just as she had left them. On a stand in -front of the bed writing materials lay scattered about. There were -some papers covered with Genji’s handwriting, and these the old man -clasped with an eagerness that made some of the gentlewomen who had -followed him smile even in the midst of their grief. The works that -Genji had written out were all masterpieces of the past, some Chinese, -some Japanese; some written in cursive, some in full script; they -constituted indeed an astonishing display of versatile penmanship. The -Minister gazed with an almost religious awe at these specimens of -Genji’s skill, and the thought that he must henceforth regard the -young man whom he adored as no longer a member of his household and -family must at that moment have been very painful to him.</p> - -<p>Among these manuscripts was a copy of Po Chü-i’s “Everlasting -Wrong”<a id="FNanchor_IX_26" href="#Footnote_IX_26" class="fnanchor">26</a> and beside the words ‘The old pillow, <span class="pagenum"><i>{287}</i></span> the old coverlet -with whom shall he now share?’ Genji had written the poem: ‘Mournful -her ghost that journeying now to unfamiliar realms must flee the couch -where we were wont to rest.’ While beside the words ‘The white petals -of the frost’ he had written: ‘The dust shall cover this bed; for no -longer can I bear to brush from it the nightly dew of my tears.’</p> - -<p>Aoi’s ladies were gathered together in groups of two or three in each -of which some gentlewoman was pouring out her private griefs and -vexations. ‘No doubt, as his Excellency the Minister told us, Prince -Genji will come to us sometimes, if only to see the child. But for my -part I doubt whether he will find much comfort in such visits....’ So -one of them was saying to her friends. And soon there were many -affecting scenes of farewell between them, for it had been decided -that for the present they were all of them to go back to their homes.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Genji was with his father in the Palace. ‘You are very thin -in the face,’ said the ex-Emperor as soon as he saw him. ‘I am afraid -you have overtaxed your strength by too much prayer and fasting,’ and -in a state of the deepest concern he at once began pressing all kinds -of viands and cordials upon him, showing with regard to his health and -indeed his affairs in general a solicitude by which Genji could not -help feeling touched.</p> - -<p>Late that night he at last arrived at the Nijō-in. Here he found -everything garnished and swept; his men-servants and maids were -waiting for him at the door. All the gentlewomen of the household at -once presented themselves in his apartments. They seemed to have vied -with one another which should look the gayest and smartest, and their -finery contrasted pleasantly with the sombre and dispiriting attire of -the unfortunate ladies whom he had left behind him at the Great Hall.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{288}</i></span></p> - -<p>Having changed out of his court dress, he went at once to the western -wing. Not only was Murasaki’s winter costume most daintily designed, -but her pretty waiting-maids and little companions were so handsomely -equipped as to reflect the greatest credit on Shōnagon’s management; -and he saw with satisfaction that such matters might with perfect -safety be left in her hands. Murasaki herself was indeed exquisitely -dressed. ‘How tall you have grown since last I saw you!’ he said and -pulled up her little curtain-of-honour. He had been away so long that -she felt shy with him and turned her head aside. But he would not for -the world have had her look otherwise than she looked at that moment, -for as she sat in profile with the lamplight falling upon her face he -realized with delight that she was becoming the very image of her whom -from the beginning he had loved best. Coming closer to her side he -whispered to her: ‘Some time or other I want to tell you about all -that has been happening to me since I went away. But it has all been -very terrible and I am too tired to speak of it now, so I am going -away to rest for a little while in my own room. From to-morrow onwards -you will have me to yourself all day long; in fact, I expect you will -soon grow quite tired of me.’</p> - -<p>‘So far, so good’ thought Shōnagon when she heard this speech. But she -was still very far from easy in her mind. She knew that there were -several ladies of very great influence with whom Genji was on terms of -friendship and she feared that when it came to choosing a second wife, -he would be far more likely to take one of these than to remember her -own little mistress; and she was not at all satisfied.</p> - -<p>When Genji had retired to the eastern wing, he sent for a certain Lady -Chūjō to rub his limbs and then went to bed. Next morning he wrote to -the nurses of Aoi’s child and received from them in reply a touching -account of its beauty <span class="pagenum"><i>{289}</i></span> and progress; but the letter served only to -awaken in him useless memories and regrets. Towards the end of the day -he felt very restless and the time hung heavily on his hands, but he -was in no mood to resume his secret rovings and such an idea did not -even occur to him. In Murasaki none of his hopes had been -disappointed; she had indeed grown up into as handsome a girl as you -could wish to see, nor was she any longer at an age when it was -impossible for him to become her lover. He constantly hinted at this, -but she did not seem to understand what he meant.</p> - -<p>He still had plenty of time on his hands, and the whole of it was now -spent in her society. All day long they played together at draughts or -word-picking, and even in the course of these trivial pursuits she -showed a quickness of mind and beauty of disposition which continually -delighted him; but she had been brought up in such rigid seclusion -from the world that it never once occurred to her to exploit her -charms in any more adult way.</p> - -<p>Soon the situation became unendurable, and though he knew that she -would be very much upset he determined somehow or another to get his -own way.</p> - -<p>There came a morning when the gentleman was already up and about, but -the young lady was still lying a-bed. Her attendants had no means of -knowing that anything out of the ordinary had happened, for it had -always been Genji’s habit to go in and out of her room just as he -chose. They naturally assumed that she was not feeling well and were -glancing at her with sympathy when Genji arrived carrying a -writing-box which he slipped behind the bed curtains. He at once -retired, and the ladies also left the room. Seeing that she was alone -Murasaki slowly raised her head. There by her pillow was the -writing-box and tied to it with ribbon, a slender note. Listlessly she -detached the note and unfolding it read the hastily scribbled poem: -<span class="pagenum"><i>{290}</i></span> ‘Too long have we deferred this new emprise, who night by night -till now have lain but with a shift between.’</p> - -<p>That <em>this</em> was what Genji had so long been wanting came to her as a -complete surprise and she could not think why he should regard the -unpleasant thing that had happened last night as in some way the -beginning of a new and more intimate friendship between them. Later in -the morning he came again. ‘Is something the matter with you?’ he -asked. ‘I shall be very dull to-day if you cannot play draughts with -me.’ But when he came close to her she only buried herself more deeply -than ever under the bedclothes. He waited till the room was empty and -then bending over her he said ‘Why are you treating me in this surly -way? I little expected to find you in so bad a humour this morning. -The others will think it very strange if you lie here all day,’ and he -pulled aside the scarlet coverlet beneath which she had dived. To his -astonishment he found that she was bathed in sweat; even the hair that -hung across her cheeks was dripping wet. ‘No! This is too much,’ he -said; ‘what a state you have worked yourself up into!’ But try as he -would to coax her back to reason he could not get a word out of her, -for she was really feeling very vexed with him indeed. ‘Very well -then,’ he said at last, ‘if that is how you feel I will never come to -see you again,’ and he pretended to be very much mortified and -humiliated. Turning away, he opened the writing-box to see whether she -had written any answer to his poem, but of course found none. He -understood perfectly that her distress was due merely to extreme youth -and inexperience, and was not at all put out. All day long he sat near -her trying to win back her confidence, and though he had small success -he found even her rebuffs in a curious way very endearing.</p> - -<p>At nightfall, it being the Day of the Wild Boar, the <span class="pagenum"><i>{291}</i></span> festival -cakes<a id="FNanchor_IX_27" href="#Footnote_IX_27" class="fnanchor">27</a> were served. Owing to Genji’s bereavement no great display -was made, but a few were brought round to Murasaki’s quarters in an -elegant picnic-basket. Seeing that the different kinds were all mixed -up together Genji came out into the front part of the house and -calling for Koremitsu said to him: ‘I want you to take these cakes -away and bring me some more to-morrow evening; only not nearly so many -as this, and all of one kind.<a id="FNanchor_IX_28" href="#Footnote_IX_28" class="fnanchor">28</a> This is not the right evening for -them.’ He smiled as he said these words and Koremitsu was quick-witted -enough at once to guess what had happened. He did not however think -that it would be discreet to congratulate his master in so many words, -and merely said: ‘It is true enough that if you want to make a good -beginning you must eat your cakes on the proper day. The day of the -Rat is certainly very much to the purpose.<a id="FNanchor_IX_29" href="#Footnote_IX_29" class="fnanchor">29</a> Pray how many am I to -bring?’ When Genji answered ‘Divide by three<a id="FNanchor_IX_30" href="#Footnote_IX_30" class="fnanchor">30</a> and you will get the -answer,’ Koremitsu was no longer in any doubt, and hastily retired, -leaving Genji amused at the practised air with which he invariably -handled matters of this kind. He said nothing to anyone, but returning -to his private house made the cakes there with his own hands.</p> - -<p>Genji was beginning to despair of ever restoring her confidence and -good humour. But even now, when she <span class="pagenum"><i>{292}</i></span> seemed as shy of him as on -the night when he first stole her from her home, her beauty fascinated -him and he knew that his love for her in past days had been but a -particle compared with what he had felt since yesterday.</p> - -<p>How strange a thing is the heart of man! For now it would have seemed -to him a calamity if even for a single night he had been taken from -Murasaki’s side; and only a little while ago....</p> - -<p>Koremitsu brought the cakes which Genji had ordered very late on the -following night. He was careful not to entrust them to Shōnagon, for -he thought that such a commission might embarrass a grown woman. -Instead, he sent for her daughter Miss Ben and putting all the cakes -into one large perfume-box he bade her take them secretly to her -mistress. ‘Be sure to put them close by her pillow, for they are lucky -cakes and must not be left about the house. Promise me not to do -anything silly with them.’ Miss Ben thought all this very odd, but -tossing her head she answered ‘When, pray, did you ever know me to be -silly,’ and she walked off with the box. Being quite a young girl and -completely innocent as regards matters of this kind she marched -straight up to her mistress’s bed and, remembering Koremitsu’s -instructions, pushed the box through the curtains and lodged it safely -by the pillow. It seemed to her that there was someone else there as -well as Murasaki. ‘No doubt,’ thought she ‘Prince Genji has come as -usual to hear her repeat her lessons.’</p> - -<p>As yet no one in the household save Koremitsu had any knowledge of the -betrothal. But when next day the box was found by the bed and brought -into the servant’s quarters some of those who were in closest touch -with their master’s affairs at once guessed the secret. Where did -these little dishes come from, each set on its own little carved -stand? and who had been at such pains to make these dainty <span class="pagenum"><i>{293}</i></span> and -ingenious cakes? Shōnagon, though she was shocked at this casual way -of slipping into matrimony, was overjoyed to learn that Genji’s -strange patronage of her young mistress had at last culminated in a -definite act of betrothal, and her eyes brimmed with tears of -thankfulness and delight. All the same, she thought he might at least -have taken the trouble to inform her old nurse, and there was a good -deal of grumbling in the household generally at an outside retainer -such as Koremitsu having got wind of the matter first.</p> - -<p>During the days that followed he grudged even the short hours of -attendance which he was obliged to put in at the Palace and in his -father’s rooms, discovering (much to his own surprise) that save in -her presence he could no longer enjoy a moment’s peace. The friends -whom he had been wont to visit showed themselves both surprised and -offended by this unexplained neglect, but though he had no wish to -stand ill with them he now found that even a remote prospect of having -to absent himself from his palace for a single night was enough to -throw him quite out of gear; and all the time he was away his spirits -were at the very lowest ebb and he looked for all the world as though -he were sickening <a id="from"></a><ins title="Original has ‘for’.">from</ins> -some strange illness. To all invitations or -greetings he invariably replied that he was at present in no fit mood -for company (which was naturally taken as an allusion to his recent -loss) or that he must now be gone, for someone with whom he had -business was already awaiting him.</p> - -<p>The Minister of the Right was aware that his youngest daughter<a id="FNanchor_IX_31" href="#Footnote_IX_31" class="fnanchor">31</a> was -still pining for Prince Genji and he said one day to Princess Kōkiden: -‘While his wife was alive we were bound of course to discourage her -friendship with him in every way we could. But the position is now -quite changed and I feel that as things are there would be much <span class="pagenum"><i>{294}</i></span> -to be said for such a match.’ But Kōkiden had always hated Genji and -having herself arranged that her sister should enter the Palace,<a id="FNanchor_IX_32" href="#Footnote_IX_32" class="fnanchor">32</a> -she saw no reason why this plan should suddenly be abandoned. Indeed -from this moment onwards she became obstinately determined that the -girl should be given to the Emperor and to no one else. Genji indeed -still retained a certain partiality towards her; but though it grieved -him to hear that he had made her unhappy he had not at present any -spare affection to offer her. Life, he had come to the conclusion, was -not long enough for diversions and experiments; henceforward he would -concentrate. He had moreover received a terrible warning of the -dangers which might accrue from such jealousies and resentments as his -former way of life had involved. He thought with great tenderness and -concern of Lady Rokujō’s distress; but it was clear to him that he -must beware of ever again allowing her to regard him as her true haven -of refuge. If however she would renew their friendship in quite new -terms, permitting him to enjoy her company and conversation at such -times as he could conveniently arrange to do so, he saw no reason why -they should not sometimes meet.</p> - -<p>Society at large knew that someone was living with him, but her -identity was quite unknown. This was of no consequence; but Genji felt -that sooner or later he ought to let her father Prince <a id="Hyobukyo"></a><ins title="Original has ‘Hyōbukyo’.">Hyōbukyō</ins> -know what had become of her and decided that before he did so it would be -best to celebrate her Initiation. This was done privately, but he was -at pains that every detail of the ceremony should be performed with -due splendour and solemnity, and though the outside world was not -invited it was as magnificent an affair as it well could be. But ever -since their betrothal Murasaki had shown a certain shyness and -diffidence in his <span class="pagenum"><i>{295}</i></span> presence. She could not help feeling sorry that -after all the years during which they had got on so well together and -been such close friends he should suddenly take this strange idea into -his head, and whenever her eyes met his she hastily averted them. He -tried to make a joke of the matter, but to her it was very serious -indeed and weighed heavily upon her mind. Her changed attitude towards -him was indeed somewhat comic; but it was also very distressing, and -one day he said: ‘Sometimes it seems as though you had forgotten all -the long years of our friendship and I had suddenly become as new to -you as at the start’; and while thus he scolded her the year drew to a -close. On New Year’s Day he paid the usual visits of ceremony to his -father, to the Emperor and to the Heir Apparent. Next he visited the -Great Hall. The old Minister made no reference to the new year, but at -once began to speak of the past. In the midst of his loneliness and -sorrow he was so deeply moved even by this hasty and long deferred -visit that though he strove hard to keep his composure it was more -than he could compass to do. Looking fondly at his son-in-law he -thought that the passage of each fresh year did but add new beauty to -this fair face. They went together into the inner rooms, where his -entry surprised and delighted beyond measure the disconsolate ladies -who had remained behind. Next they visited the little prince who was -growing into a fine child; his merry face was indeed a pleasure to -see. His resemblance to the Heir Apparent was certainly very striking -and Genji wondered whether it had been noticed.</p> - -<p>Aoi’s things were still as she had left them. His New Year clothes had -as in former years been hung out for him on the clothes-frame. Aoi’s -clothes-frame which stood empty beside it wore a strangely desolate -air. A letter from the Princess her mother was now brought to him: -‘To-day,’ she said, ‘our bereavement was more than ever <span class="pagenum"><i>{296}</i></span> present -to my mind, and though touched at the news of your visit, I fear that -to see you would but awaken unhappy recollections.’ ‘You will -remember,’ she continued, ‘that it was my custom to present you with a -suit of clothes on each New Year’s Day. But in these last months my -sight has been so dimmed with tears that I fear you will think I have -matched the colours very ill. Nevertheless I beg that though it be for -to-day only you will suffer yourself to be disfigured by this -unfashionable garb ...’ and a servant held out before him a second<a id="FNanchor_IX_33" href="#Footnote_IX_33" class="fnanchor">33</a> -suit, which was evidently the one he was expected to wear to-day. The -under-stuff was of a most unusual pattern and mixture of colours and -did not at all please him; but he could not allow her to feel that she -had laboured in vain, and at once put the suit on. It was indeed -fortunate that he had come to the Great Hall that day, for he could -see that she had counted on it. In his reply he said: ‘Though I came -with the hope that you would be the first friend I should greet at -this new springtide, yet now that I am here too many bitter memories -assail me and I think it wiser that we should not meet.’ To this he -added an acrostic poem in which he said that with the mourning dress -which he had just discarded so many years of friendship were cast -aside that were he to come to her<a id="FNanchor_IX_34" href="#Footnote_IX_34" class="fnanchor">34</a> he could but weep. To this she -sent in answer an acrostic poem in which she said that in this new -season when all things else on earth put on altered hue, one thing -alone remained as in the months gone by—her longing for the child who -like the passing year had vanished from their sight.</p> - -<p>But though hers may have been the greater grief we must not think that -there was not at that moment very deep emotion on both sides.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_1" href="#FNanchor_IX_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> We learn in Chapter XXXIV that he was made Commander of the -Bodyguard at the age of twenty-one. He is now twenty-two. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_2" href="#FNanchor_IX_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> Genji’s son by Fujitsubo (supposed by the world to be the -Emperor’s child) had been made Heir Apparent. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_3" href="#FNanchor_IX_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> An Emperor upon his succession was obliged to send one unmarried -daughter or grand-daughter to the Shintō Temple at Ise, another to the -Shintō Temple at Kamo. See Appendix II. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_4" href="#FNanchor_IX_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> She was seven years older than Genji. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_5" href="#FNanchor_IX_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> a Daughter of Prince Momozono. See above, p. <a href="#Page_68">68</a>. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_6" href="#FNanchor_IX_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> We learn later that he was a son of Iyo no Kami. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_7" href="#FNanchor_IX_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> Father of Princess Asagao; brother of the ex-Emperor and therefore -Genji’s paternal uncle. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_8" href="#FNanchor_IX_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> The clash of coaches took place at the Purification. The actual -<i>matsuri</i> (Festival) takes place some days later. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_9" href="#FNanchor_IX_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> I.e. astrologically. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_10" href="#FNanchor_IX_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> <cite>Kokinshū</cite> 509. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_11" href="#FNanchor_IX_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> The clash of the chariots at the Festival of Purification. -Probably a quotation. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_12" href="#FNanchor_IX_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> The jealous person is unconscious of the fatal effects which his -jealousy is producing. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_13" href="#FNanchor_IX_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> Members of the Imperial family were not allowed to leave the -Capital without the consent of the Emperor<a id="Period_2"></a><ins title="Original has no period.">.</ins> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_14" href="#FNanchor_IX_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> A temporary building erected afresh for each new Virgin a few -miles outside Kyoto. She spent several years there before proceeding -to Ise. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_15" href="#FNanchor_IX_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> The Chinese version of the Sanskrit <cite>Saddharma Pundarika Sutra</cite>; -see <cite>Sacred Books of the East</cite>, Vol. 21. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_16" href="#FNanchor_IX_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> The lying-in jacket. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_17" href="#FNanchor_IX_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> These presents (<i>ubuyashinai</i>) were given on the third, fifth and -ninth nights. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_18" href="#FNanchor_IX_18" class="fnanchor">18</a> The ceremony of investing the newly elected officials. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_19" href="#FNanchor_IX_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> Had she corresponded with someone who was in mourning, she would -herself have become unclean and been disqualified from attending upon -her daughter the Vestal Virgin. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_20" href="#FNanchor_IX_20" class="fnanchor">20</a> Used in writing to people who were in mourning. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_21" href="#FNanchor_IX_21" class="fnanchor">21</a> See p. <a href="#Page_182">182</a>. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_22" href="#FNanchor_IX_22" class="fnanchor">22</a> Winter clothes are begun on the first day of the tenth month. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_23" href="#FNanchor_IX_23" class="fnanchor">23</a> From a poem to a dead lady, by Liu Yü-hsi (<span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 772–842). - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza small_92"> - <div class="i0"><i>I saw you first standing at the window of Yü Liang’s tower;</i></div> - <div class="i0"><i>Your waist was slender as the willow-trees that grow at Wu-ch‘ang.</i></div> - <div class="i0"><i>My finding you and losing you were both like a dream;</i></div> - <div class="i0"><i>Oh tell me if your soul dwells in the rain, or whether in the clouds above!</i></div> - </div><!--end stanza--> - </div><!--end poem--> -</div><!--end container--> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_24" href="#FNanchor_IX_24" class="fnanchor">24</a> A husband in mourning may not wear winter clothes. The mourning -lasts for three months. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_25" href="#FNanchor_IX_25" class="fnanchor">25</a> Fujitsubo. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_26" href="#FNanchor_IX_26" class="fnanchor">26</a> Murasaki quotes the line in the form in which it occurs in -Japanese MSS. of Po Chü-i’s poem. The Chinese editions have a slightly -different text. Cf. Giles’s translation, <em>History of Chinese -Literature</em>, p. 172. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_27" href="#FNanchor_IX_27" class="fnanchor">27</a> On the Day of the Boar in the tenth month it was the custom to -serve little cakes of seven different kinds, to wit: Large bean, -mungo, dolicho, sesamun, chestnut, persimmon, sugar-starch. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_28" href="#FNanchor_IX_28" class="fnanchor">28</a> On the third night after the first cohabitation it was the custom -to offer up small cakes (all of one kind and colour) to the god -Izanagi and his sister Izanami. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_29" href="#FNanchor_IX_29" class="fnanchor">29</a> First, because the Rat comes at the beginning of the series of -twelve animal signs; secondly, because ‘Rat’ is written with a -character that also means ‘baby.’ -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_30" href="#FNanchor_IX_30" class="fnanchor">30</a>The phrase which I have translated ‘Divide by three’ also means -‘One of three’ i.e. of the Three Mysteries (Birth, <em>Marriage</em>, Death). -That is why Koremitsu was ‘no longer in any doubt.’ But many other -explanations of the passage have been given. It is indeed one of the -three major difficulties enumerated by the old-fashioned Genji teachers. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_31" href="#FNanchor_IX_31" class="fnanchor">31</a> Oborozukiyo. See above, p. <a href="#Page_242">242</a>. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_32" href="#FNanchor_IX_32" class="fnanchor">32</a> I.e. become a concubine of the Emperor. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_33" href="#FNanchor_IX_33" class="fnanchor">33</a> In addition to the one hanging on the frame. -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="Footnote_IX_34" href="#FNanchor_IX_34" class="fnanchor">34</a> <i>Kiteba</i>, ‘were he to come,’ also means ‘should he wear it.’ -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_297"><i>{297}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="APPENDIX_I">APPENDIX I</h2> -</div> - - -<table summary="Timeline·"> - <tbody><tr> - <td class="leftt"><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 978 (?)</td> - <td class="leftt">Murasaki born.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="leftt"><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 994 (?)</td> - <td class="leftt">Marries Fujiwara no Nobutaka.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="leftt"><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1001</td> - <td class="leftt">Nobutaka dies.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="leftt"><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1005 (?)</td> - <td class="leftt">She becomes lady-in-waiting to the Empress Akiko, - then a girl of sixteen.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="leftt"><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1007–1010</td> - <td class="leftt">Keeps a diary, which survives.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="leftt"><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1008</td> - <td class="leftt">Book I of the <cite>Tale of Genji</cite> read to the Emperor.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="leftt"><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1025</td> - <td class="leftt">Murasaki still at Court.</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="leftt"><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1031</td> - <td class="leftt">Murasaki no longer at Court and perhaps dead.</td> - </tr></tbody> -</table> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{298}</i></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="APPENDIX_II">APPENDIX II<br /> -<span class="smcap">The Vestal Virgins of Ise and Kamo.</span></h2> -</div> - - -<p>So important a part do these ladies play in the Tale of Genji that the -reader may perhaps wish to know exactly what they were. I may say at -the outset that I have used the term ‘vestal’ merely for convenience. -These Virgins were not guardians of a sacred fire.</p> - -<p><i>Ise</i>.—Upon the accession of a new Emperor, a princess of the Imperial -House (preferably a daughter of the Emperor) was sent to be priestess -of the great Shintō shrines at Ise. According to the <cite>Nihongi</cite> (Bk. V; -Emperor Sūjin 6th year<a id="FNanchor_APPENDIX_II_1" href="#FAPPENDIX_II_1" class="fnanchor">1</a>) ‘The gods Amaterasu and Ōkunidama were -formerly both worshipped in the Emperor’s Palace Hall. But the Emperor -Sūjin was frightened of having so much divine power concentrated in -one place. Accordingly he entrusted the worship of Amaterasu to the -Princess Toyosuku-iri, bidding her carry it out in the village of -Kasanui in Yamato.’ Subsequently Amaterasu expressed a desire to be -moved to Ise.</p> - -<p>The Virgin was usually about twelve years old at the time of her -appointment. Cases however are recorded in which she was an infant of -one year old; or again, a woman of twenty-eight. Her office lasted till</p> - -<ul> - <li>(1) The Emperor died or resigned</li> - <li>(2) She herself died or became disabled</li> - <li>(3) Either of her parents died</li> - <li>(4) She misconducted herself.</li> -</ul> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><i>{299}</i></span></p> - -<p>Thus in <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 541 the Vestal, a certain Princess Iwane, misconducted -herself with Prince Mubaragi and was replaced. The process of -preparing the Virgin for her office lasted three years. She was first -of all, after a preliminary purification in running water handed -over to the City guards. Meanwhile, just outside the Capital, -a special place of purification was built for her, called the -Palace-in-the-Fields. After a second River Purification she took up -her residence in this temporary Palace and stayed there till the time -came for her to settle at Ise. Before the journey to Ise she was again -purified in the River, and she appeared at the Imperial Palace to -receive at the Emperor’s hands the ‘Comb of Parting.’ No Virgin of Ise -was appointed after 1342.</p> - -<p><i>Kamo</i>.—The Virgin of Kamo, first instituted in <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 818 was a replica -of the Ise Virgin. She too had her Palace-in-the-Fields, three years -of purification, etc. The practice of sending a Virgin to Kamo was -discontinued in 1204.</p> - -<p>Upon both Virgins curious speech-taboos were imposed. Thus they called</p> - -<ul class="small_92"> - <li class="tight">death, ‘recovery’</li> - <li class="tight">illness, ‘taking a rest’</li> - <li class="tight">weeping, ‘dropping salt water’</li> - <li class="tight">blood, ‘sweat’</li> - <li class="tight">to strike, ‘to fondle’</li> - <li class="tight">a tomb, ‘an earth heap’</li> - <li>meat, ‘vegetables’</li> -</ul> - -<p>All words connected with Buddhism were taboo. Thus Buddha himself was -called ‘The Centre’; Buddhist scriptures were called ‘stained paper’; -a pagoda, ‘araragi’ (meaning unknown); a temple, ‘a tile-covered -place’; a priest (ironically), ‘hair-long’; a nun, ‘female hair-long’; -fasting, ‘partial victuals.’</p> - -<p>To both Virgins was attached an important retinue of <span class="pagenum"><i>{300}</i></span> male -officials. These were appointed by the Emperor and no doubt acted as -his agents and informers in the districts of Ise and Kamo.</p> - -<p>Probably the Ise Virgin was a very ancient institution which later -proved useful for political ends. The Virgin of Kamo, who does not -appear on the scene till the ninth century, was presumably instituted -simply as a means of spreading Court influence.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> -<a id="FAPPENDIX_II_1" href="#FNanchor_APPENDIX_II_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> 92 <span class="smcap">b.c.</span> according to the usual chronology, which is however purely -fictitious. -</div> - -<div class="transnote chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="tnotes">Transcriber’s Notes.</h2> - -<p>Text notes:</p> - - -<ol> - <li>Footnotes have been renumbered and placed at the end of each - chapter.</li> - <li>The bastard-title page prior to the main title page and the - half-title page preceding the main text have both been omitted. - They contained the words “THE TALE OF GENJI”.</li> - <li>For the HTML version, page numbers of the original printed text - are displayed within braces to the side of the text.</li> - <li>The original landscape orientation of the genealogical tables - has been changed to a portrait orientation by the transcriber in - order to provide a better view for eReaders. The Inkscape program - was used to produce a SVG image that was then converted to a - PNG image. The image is placed in the public domain.</li> - <li>In order to facilitate word wrapping, ellipses in the middle of - a sentence have been replaced with a group of three periods. This - group has a leading and, unless a comma is present, trailing blank - space added. Ellipses at the end of a sentence do not have a - leading blank space, but closing punctuation has been added if - needed.</li> - <li>Except as mentioned above and in the Change List that follows, every - effort has been made to replicate this first-edition text as - faithfully as possible, including non-standard punctuation, - inconsistently hyphenated words, and other inconsistencies.</li> -</ol> - - - - -<p>Change List:</p> - - -<ul class="errors"> - <li>Page 7<br /> - of ‘governess <i>changed to</i><br /> - of ‘governess<a href="#Close_Quote1">’</a></li> - - <li>Page 9<br /> - PREFACE 9 <i>changed to</i><br /> - PREFACE <a href="#PREFACE_7">7</a></li> - - <li>Page 69<br /> - lack of influence... <i>changed to</i><br /> - lack of influence...<a href="#Close_Quote2">.’</a></li> - - <li>Page 95<br /> - reason’ said Gengi. <i>changed to</i><br /> - reason’ said <a href="#Genji">Genji</a>.</li> - - <li>Page 102<br /> - joins Mount Katsuragi and Mount Kombu <i>changed to</i><br /> - joins Mount Katsuragi and Mount Kombu<a href="#Period_1">.</a></li> - - <li>Page 114<br /> - steward’s son, and tell <i>changed to</i><br /> - steward’s son, <a href="#Open_Quote">‘</a>and tell</li> - - <li>Page 130<br /> - There could be on harm in this interchange <i>changed to</i><br /> - There could be <a href="#no">no</a> harm in this interchange</li> - - <li>Page 137<br /> - and that blurr of shimmering <i>changed to</i><br /> - and that <a href="#blur">blur</a> of shimmering</li> - - <li>Page 179<br /> - it was very diasppointing to lose <i>changed to</i><br /> - it was very <a href="#disappointing">disappointing</a> to lose</li> - - <li>Page 228<br /> - off the scent. And this opinion <i>changed to</i><br /> - off the scent.<a href="#Close_Quote3">’</a> And this opinion</li> - - <li>Page 232<br /> - modern Wu-ch’ang in Hupeh. <i>changed to</i><br /> - modern <a href="#Aspirated">Wu-ch‘ang</a> in Hupeh.</li> - - <li>Page 242<br /> - ‘Oh, how you frightened me? she cried. <i>changed to</i><br /> - ‘Oh, how you frightened me<a href="#Close_Quote4">,’</a> she cried.</li> - - <li>Page 263<br /> - consent of the Emperor <i>changed to</i><br /> - consent of the Emperor<a href="#Period_2">.</a></li> - - <li>Page 275<br /> - deep-dyed robe, and he recited the poem: <i>changed to</i><br /> - deep-dyed robe,<a href="#Close_Quote5">’</a> and he recited the poem:</li> - - <li>Page 293<br /> - sickening for some strange illness. <i>changed to</i><br /> - sickening <a href="#from">from</a> some strange illness.</li> - - <li>Page 294<br /> - her father Prince Hyōbukyo <i>changed to</i><br /> - her father Prince <a href="#Hyobukyo">Hyōbukyō</a></li> - -</ul> - -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF GENJI ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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