She went back again to her toys, and
presented
a toy prince, whom she
called Genji, at the Court of her toy house.
called Genji, at the Court of her toy house.
Epiphanius Wilson - Japanese Literature
when one's life is too long, such fate comes to us.
"
Another answered her, "How was it we did not like the mansion when the
late Prince was living? "
Thus they talked about one thing or another connected with their
mistress's want of means.
Genji did not like that they should know that he had seen and heard
all this, so he slyly withdrew some distance, and then advancing with
a firm step, approached the door and knocked.
"Some one is come," cried a servant, who then brought a light, opened
the door, and showed him into a room where he was soon joined by the
Princess, neither Tayu nor Kojijiu being there on this occasion. The
latter was acquainted with the Saiin (the sacred virgin at the Temple
of Kamo),[66] and often spent some time with her. On this occasion she
happened to be visiting her, a circumstance which was not very
convenient for the Princess. The dilapidated state of the mansion was
just as novel to Genji as that which he had seen in the lodge of
Yugao, but the great drawback consisted in the Princess's want of
responsiveness. He spoke much, she but little. Outside, in the
meantime, the weather had become boisterous and snow fell thickly,
while within in the room where they sat the lamp burned dimly, no one
waiting there even to trim the light.
Some hours were spent between them, and then Genji rose, and throwing
up the shutter in the same way as he did in the lodge of Yugao, looked
upon the snow which had fallen in the garden. The ground was covered
with a sheet of pure whiteness; no footstep had left its trace,
betraying the fact that few persons came to the mansion. He was about
to take his departure, but some vague impulse arrested him. Turning to
the Princess, he asked her to come near him, and to look out on the
scene, and she somewhat unreadily complied.
The evening was far advanced, but the reflection of the snow threw a
faint light over all. Now, for the first time, he discovered the
imperfections of the personal attractions of the Princess. First, her
stature was very tall, the upper part of her figure being out of
proportion to the lower, then one thing which startled him most was
her nose. It reminded him of the elephant of Fugen. It was high and
long; while its peak, a little drooping, was tinged with pink. To the
refined eyes of Genji this was a sad defect. Moreover, she was thin,
too thin; and her shoulders drooped too much, as if the dress was too
heavy for them.
"Why am I so anxious to examine and criticise? " thought Genji, but his
curiosity impelled him to continue his examination. Her hair and the
shape of her head were good, in no way inferior to those of others he
liked so well. Her complexion was fair, and her forehead well
developed. The train of her dress, which hung down gracefully, seemed
about a foot too long. If I described everything which she wore I
should become loquacious, but in old stories the dress of the
personages is very often more minutely described than anything else;
so I must, I suppose, do the same. Her vest and skirt dress were
double, and were of light green silk, a little worn, over which was a
robe of dark color. Over all this she wore a mantle of sable of good
quality, only a little too antique in fashion. To all these things,
therefore, he felt no strong objection; but the two things he could
not pass unnoticed were her nose, and her style of movement. She moved
in a stiff and constrained manner, like a master of the ceremonies in
some Court procession, spreading out his arms and looking important.
This afforded him amusement, but still he felt for her. "If I say too
much, pardon me," said Genji, "but you seem apparently friendless. I
should advise you to take interest in one with whom you have made
acquaintance. He will sympathize with you. You are much too reserved.
Why are you so?
The icicle hangs at the gable end,
But melts when the sun is high,
Why does your heart not to me unbend,
And warm to my melting sigh. "
A smile passed over the lips of the Princess, but they seemed too
stiff to reply in a similar strain. She said nothing.
The time had now come for Genji to depart. His carriage was drawn up
to the middle gate, which, like everything else that belonged to the
mansion, was in a state of dilapidation. "The spot overgrown with wild
vegetation, spoken of by Sama-no-Kami might be such as this," he
thought. "If one can find a real beauty of elevated character and
obtain her, how delightful would it not be! The spot answers the
description, but the girl does not quite equal the idea; however, I
really pity her, and will look after her. She is a fortunate girl, for
if I were not such a one as I am, I should have little sympathy for
the unfortunate and unfavored. But this is not what I shall do. "
He saw an orange tree in the garden covered with snow. He bade his
servant shake it free. A pine tree which stood close by suddenly
jerked its branches as if in emulation of its neighbor, and threw off
its load of snow like a wave. The gate through which he had to drive
out was not yet opened. The gatekeeper was summoned to open it.
Thereupon an aged man came forth from his lodge. A miserable-looking
girl with a pinched countenance stood by, his daughter or his
granddaughter, whose dress looked poorer from the whiteness of the
surrounding snow. She had something containing lighted charcoal which
she held to her breast for warmth.
When she observed that her aged parent could scarcely push back the
gate, she came forward and helped him. And the scene was quite droll.
Genji's servant also approached them, and the gates were thrown open.
Again Genji hummed:--
"The one who on the time-bent head of age,
Beholds the gathered snow,
Nor less his tears of grief may shed,
For griefs that youth can only know. "
and added, "Youth with its body uncovered. "[67] Then the pitiable
image of one with a tinged flower[68] on her face presented itself
once more to his thoughts and made him smile.
"If To-no-Chiujio observed this, what would he not have to say? "
thought he, as he drove back slowly to his mansion.
After this time communications were frequently sent from Genji to the
Princess. This he did because he pitied the helpless condition and
circumstances he had witnessed more than for any other reason. He also
sent her rolls of silk, which might replace the old-fashioned
sable-skins, some damask, calico and the like. Indeed, presents were
made even to her aged servants and to the gatekeeper.
In ordinary circumstances with women, particular attention such as
this might make a blush, but the Princess did not take it in such a
serious light, nor did Genji do this from any other motive than
kindness.
The year approached its end! He was in his apartment in the Imperial
Palace, when one morning Tayu came in. She was very useful to him in
small services, such as hairdressing, so she had easy access to him,
and thus she came to him this morning.
"I have something strange to tell you, but it is somewhat trying for
me to do so," she said, half smiling.
"What can it be? There can be nothing to conceal from me! "
"But I have some reason for my hesitation to reveal it," replied Tayu.
"You make a difficulty, as usual," rejoined Genji.
"This is from the Princess," she said, taking a letter from her pocket
and presenting it.
"Is this a thing of all others that you ought to conceal," cried
Genji, taking the letter and opening it. It was written on thick and
coarse paper of Michinok manufacture. The verse it contained ran as
follows:--
"Like this, my sleeves are worn away,
By weeping at your long delay. "
These words puzzled Genji. Inclining his head in a contemplative way,
he glanced from the paper to Tayu, and from Tayu to the paper. Then
she drew forth a substantial case of antique pattern, saying, "I
cannot produce such a thing without shame, but the Princess expressly
sent this for your New Year. I could not return it to her nor keep it
myself; I hope you will just look at it. "
"Oh, certainly," replied Genji. "It is very kind of her," at the same
time thinking, "What a pitiful verse! This may really be her own
composition. No doubt Kojijiu has been absent, besides she seems to
have had no master to improve her penmanship. This must have been
written with great effort. We ought to be grateful for it, as they
say. " Here a smile rose on Genji's cheeks, and a blush upon Tayu's.
The case was opened, and a Naoshi (a kind of gown), of scarlet, shabby
and old-fashioned, of the same color on both sides, was found inside.
The sight was almost too much for Genji from its very absurdity. He
stretched out the paper on which the verse had been written, and began
to write on one side, as if he was merely playing with the pen. Tayu,
glancing slyly, found that he had written:--
This color pleases not mine eye,
Too fiery bright its gaudy hue,
And when the saffron flower was nigh,
The same pink tinge was plain to view.
He then erased what he had written, but Tayu quickly understood what
he really meant by "saffron flower," referring to the pinkness of its
flower, so she remarked:--
"Although the dress too bright in hue,
And scarlet tints may please you not,
At least to her, who sends, be true,
Soon will Naoshi be forgot. "
While they were thus prattling on the matter, people were entering the
room to see him, so Genji hastily put the things aside, and Tayu
retired.
A few days after, Genji one morning looked into the Daihan-sho (large
parlor), where he found Tayu, and threw a letter to her, saying,
"Tayu, here is the answer. It has cost me some pains," and then passed
through, humming as he went, with a peculiar smile,
"Like that scarlet-tinged plum. "
None but Tayu understood the real allusion. One of the women observed,
"The weather is too frosty, perhaps he has seen some one reddened by
the frost. " Another said, "What an absurdity! There is no one among us
of that hue, but perhaps Sakon or Uneme may be like this," and thus
they chattered on till the matter dropped.
The letter was soon sent by Tayu to the Princess, who assembled all
her attendants round her, and they all read it together, when the
following was found in it:--
Of my rare visits you complain,
But can the meaning be,
Pray come not often, nor again,
For I am tired of thee.
On the last day of the year he made the following presents to the
Princess, sending them in the same case as the Naoshi had been sent to
him: stuff for a complete dress, which had originally been presented
to himself; also rolls of silk, one of the color of the purple grape,
another of the Kerria japonica color, and others. All these were
handed to the Princess by Tayu. It should be observed that these
presents were made by Genji to the Princess chiefly on account of her
reduced circumstances. Her attendants, however, who wished to flatter
their mistress, exclaimed, "Our scarlet dress was very good, too.
Scarlet is a color which never fades. The lines we sent were also
excellent. Those of the Prince are, no doubt, a little amusing, but
nothing more. "
The Princess, flattered by the remarks, wrote down her verse in her
album, as if worthy of preservation.
The New Year began with the morrow; and it was announced that the
Otoko-doka (gentlemen's singing dances) would soon take place in which
Genji would take part. Hence he was busy in going backwards and
forwards, to practise, but the lonely residence of the saffron flower
began to draw his thoughts in that direction. So after the ceremony of
the State Festival, on the seventh day, he betook himself there in the
evening, after he had left the Emperor's presence, having made a
pretence of retiring to his own private apartments. On this occasion
the appearance of the lady happened to be a little more attractive,
and Genji was pleased, thinking there might be a time when she would
improve still more. When the sun shone forth he rose to leave. He
opened the casement on the western side of the mansion, and, looking
at the corridor, perceived that its roof was broken. Through it the
sunshine peeped, and shone upon the slight cover of snow scattered in
the crevices. The scene, as we have before said, betrayed everywhere
dilapidation and decay.
The mirror-stand, combs, and dressing-case were brought in by an
attendant. They were all of an extremely antique pattern. He drew an
"arm-stool" near him, and resting himself upon it began combing his
hair. He was amused at the sight of these articles, which were
doubtless a legacy from her parents. The dress of the Princess was in
every way nicer. It had been made out of the silk of Genji's present.
He recognized it by the tasteful pattern. Turning to her he said,
"This year you might become a little more genial, the only thing I
wait for above all is a change in your demeanor. " To which she, with
some awkwardness, said,
"In the spring, when numerous birds sing. "
Such poetic responses were a great delight to Genji, who thought they
were the silent touches of time, and that she had made some
improvement. He then left and returned to his mansion in Nijio, where
he saw the young Violet innocently amusing herself. She wore with
grace a long close-fitting cherry-colored dress of plain silk. She had
not yet blackened her teeth,[69] but he now made her do so, which gave
a pleasant contrast to her eyebrows. He played at their usual games at
toys with her, trying in every way to please her. She drew pictures
and painted them, so did he also. He drew the likeness of a lady with
long hair, and painted her nose with pink. Even in caricature it was
odd to see. He turned his head to a mirror in which he saw his own
image reflected in great serenity. He then took the brush and painted
his own nose pink. Violet, on seeing this, screamed.
"When I become ornamented in this way what shall I be like? " inquired
Genji.
"That would be a great pity. Do wipe it off, it might stain," she
replied.
Genji partly wiped it off, saying, "Need I wipe it off any more?
Suppose I go with this to the Palace? "
On this Violet approached and carefully wiped it for him. "Don't put
any more color," cried Genji, "and play upon me as Heijiu. "[70]
The mild sun of spring descended in the west, and darkness slowly
gathered over the forest tops, obscuring all but the lovely white plum
blossoms which were still visible amidst the gloom. At the front of
the porch, also, a red plum blossom, which usually opens very early,
was deeply tinged with glowing hues. Genji murmured:--
"The 'red-tinged flower' is far from fair,
Nor do my eyes delight to see,
But yon red plum which blossoms there,
Is full of loveliness to me. "
What will become of all these personages!
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 65: Young nobles spent a night in the palace in turns, to
attend to any unexpected official business. ]
[Footnote 66: When a new emperor succeeded, two virgins, chosen from
the royal princesses, were sent--one to the Shinto temple at Ise, the
other to the same temple at Kamo--to become vestals, and superintend
the services. ]
[Footnote 67: From a Chinese poem about poor people "night advancing,
snow and hail fly white around. Youth with its body uncovered, and the
aged with chilly pain, grief and cold come together, and make them
both sob. "]
[Footnote 68: A play upon the word "hana," which means a nose, as well
as a flower. ]
[Footnote 69: An old custom in Japan for girls when married, or even
betrothed, is to blacken their teeth. This custom, however, is rapidly
disappearing. ]
[Footnote 70: In an old tale it is stated that this man had a
sweetheart. He often pretended to be weeping, and made his eyes moist
by using the water which he kept in his bottle for mixing ink, in
order to deceive her. She discovered this ruse; so one day she put ink
into it secretly. He damped his eyes as usual, when, giving him a hand
mirror, she hummed, "You may show me your tears, but don't show your
blackened face to strangers. "]
CHAPTER VII
MAPLE FETE
The Royal visit to the Suzak-in was arranged to take place towards the
middle of October, and was anticipated to be a grand affair. Ladies
were not expected to take part in it, and they all regretted their not
being able to be present.
The Emperor, therefore, wished to let his favorite, the Princess
Wistaria, above others, have an opportunity of witnessing a rehearsal
that would represent the coming _fete_, and ordered a preliminary
concert to be performed at the Court, in which Genji danced the "Blue
Main Waves," with To-no-Chiujio for his partner. They stood and danced
together, forming a most pleasing contrast--one, so to speak, like a
bright flower; the other, an everlasting verdure beside it. The rays
of the setting sun shone over their heads, and the tones of the music
rose higher and higher in measure to their steps. The movements both
of hand and foot were eminently graceful; as well, also, was the song
of Genji, which was sung at the end of his dance, so that some of the
people remarked that the sound of the holy bird, Kariobinga,[71] might
be even like this. And so the rehearsal ended.
When the day of the _fete_ came, all the Royal Princes, including the
Heir-apparent, and all personages of State, were present at the scene.
On the lake, "the music boat," filled with selected musicians, floated
about, as usual on such occasions; and in the grounds, the bands,
which were divided into two divisions on the right and left, under the
direction of two Ministers and two Yemon-no-Kami, played. With this
music different dances, including Chinese and Corean, were performed,
one after another, by various dancers. As the performance went on, the
high winds rustled against the tall fir-trees, as though Divine
strains of music had broken forth on high in harmony with them. The
tune of the bands became quick and thrilling, as different colored
leaves whirled about overhead.
Then, at length, the hero of the "Blue Main Waves" made his
appearance, to the delight of the suddenly startled spectators, from
the midst of a knoll in the grounds, covered with maple leaves. The
twigs of maple which crowned his head, became thinned as he danced,
and a Sadaishio, plucking a bunch of chrysanthemums from in front of
the Royal stand, replaced the lessened maple leaves. The sun was by
this time descending, and the sky had become less glaring, while the
face of Nature seemed as if it were smiling on the scene. Genji danced
with unusual skill and energy. All the pages and attendants, who were
severally stationed here under the side of the rock, there under the
shade of the foliage, were quite impressed with the effects of the
performance.
After Genji, a little prince, the child of the Niogo of Jiokio-den,
danced the "Autumn Gales," with a success next to that of Genji. Then,
the principal interest of the day being over, as these dances were
finished, the _fete_ ended. This very evening Genji was invested with
the title of Shosammi, and To-no-Chiujio with that of Shoshii. Many
other persons also received promotion in rank according to their
merits.
It was after this _fete_ that the young Violet was taken into the
mansion of Genji at Nijio, and she lived with him. The more care he
took of her the more amiable she became, while nothing pleased him
more than teaching her to read and write.
The full extent of her mourning for her grandmother was three months,
as it is for the maternal side; and on the last day of December her
dress was changed. As she, however, had been always brought up under
the care of her grandmother, her indebtedness to the latter was not to
be held lightly; consequently any bright colors were not advisable for
her, so she wore plain scarlet, mauve, and light yellow, without
trimmings or ornament on them.
The dawn ushered in the New Year's day. Genji was about to leave his
mansion to attend the New Year's _levee_. Just before starting, he
came into Violet's room to see her.
"How are you? Are you becoming less childish now? " said he, with a
smile to the girl who was playing with her Hina (toys).
"I am trying to mend this. Inuki damaged it when he was playing what
he called 'driving out devils,'"[72] replied the girl.
"What carelessness! I will soon get it mended for you. Don't cry this
day, please," said Genji, and he went off, the maidens who attended on
Violet accompanying him to the door. This example was also followed by
Violet herself.
She went back again to her toys, and presented a toy prince, whom she
called Genji, at the Court of her toy house. Shionagon was beside her.
She said:--
"You might really be a little more womanly, as the Prince told you.
How very childish! a girl older than ten always playing with toys! "
Violet said nothing; but she seemed, for the first time, to have
become aware that she was expected to be a woman in the course of
time.
From the Court, Genji went to the mansion of Sadaijin. Lady Aoi was as
cool to him as ever. His persuasive eloquence availed him but little.
She was older than Genji by four years, and was as cold and stately in
her mien as ever. Her father, however, received him joyfully whenever
he called, although he was not always satisfied with the
capriciousness of his son-in-law.
The next morning Genji rose early, and was arranging his toilet, with
a view of making his New Year's visits, when Sadaijin entered the
room, and officiously assisted him in putting on his dress, except,
perhaps, his boots. He, moreover, had brought him a belt mounted with
rare jewels, and requested him to wear it.
Genji observed: "Such a belt is more suited for some special
occasion--such as a Royal banquet, or the like. " But Sadaijin insisted
on his putting it on, telling him that for that sort of occasion he
possessed a much more valuable one.
These New Year's visits were only paid to the Emperor, to the
Heir-apparent, and to the Princess Wistaria at her private residence
in Sanjio, where she had retired, but she did not receive him
personally. At this time, the Princess was not in her usual state of
health, for she was approaching her confinement. Many people, who
thought that they might have heard of the event in December, now began
to say, "At least we shall receive the intelligence this month," and
the Emperor himself became impatient; but the month passed away, and
yet it did not happen. In the middle of February, however, she was
safely delivered of a Prince. During the following April the child was
presented to the Emperor. [73] He was rather big for his age, and had
already begun to notice those around him.
In these days much of Genji's time was passed at Nijio with Violet,
and Lady Aoi was still greatly neglected. The circumstances which
induced him to stay at home more than ever were these: He would order
his carriage to be brought in readiness to take him; but, before it
was ready, he would proceed to the western wing, where Violet lived.
Perhaps, with eyes drowsy after dozing, and playing on a flute as he
went, he would find her moping on one side of the room, like a fair
flower moistened with dews. He would then approach her side, and say,
"How are you? Are you not well? " She, without being startled, would
slowly open her eyes, and murmur: "Sad like the weed in a creek," and
then put her hand on her mouth deprecatingly. On this he would remark,
"How knowing you are! Where did you learn such things? " He would then
call for a _koto_, and saying "The worst of the _soh-koto_ is that its
middle chord should break so easily," would arrange it for a Hiojio
tune, and when he had struck a few chords on it, would offer it to
her, asking her to play, and would presently accompany her with his
flute. They would then play some difficult air, perhaps Hosoroguseri,
a very ugly name, but a very lively tune, and she would keep very good
time, and display her skill. The lamp would be presently brought in,
and they would look over some pictures together. In due time, the
carriage would be announced. Perhaps it might be added, "It is coming
on to rain. " Upon hearing this, she would, perhaps, put her pictures
aside, and become downcast. He would then smooth her wavy hair, and
say, "Are you sorry when I am not here? " To this question she would
indicate her feelings by slightly nodding an affirmative, and she
would lean on his knee and begin to doze.
He would then say, "I shall not go out to-night. " The servant having
brought in supper, would tell her that Genji was not going out that
evening. Then she would manifest the greatest delight, and would
partake of the supper. And thus it came to pass that he often
disappointed one who was expecting him.
The way that Genji neglected his bride gradually became known to the
public--nay, to the Emperor himself, who sometimes admonished him,
telling him that his father-in-law always took great interest in him
and great care from his earliest childhood, and saying that he hoped
that he would surely not forget all these benefits, and that it was
strange to be unkind to his daughter. But when these remarks were made
to Genji, he answered nothing.
Let us now change our subject. The Emperor, though he had already
passed the meridian of life, was still fond of the society of the fair
sex. And his Court was full of ladies who were well versed in the ways
of the world. Some of these would occasionally amuse themselves by
paying attentions to Genji. We will here relate the following amusing
incident:--
There was at the Court a Naishi-no-Ske, who was already no longer
young, and commonly called Gen-Naishi-no-Ske. Both her family and
character were good. She was, however, in spite of her age, still
coquettish, which was her only fault. Genji often felt amused at her
being so young in temperament, and he enjoyed occasionally talking
nonsense with her. She used to attend on the Emperor while his hair
was being dressed. One day, after he had retired into his
dressing-room, she remained in the other room, and was smoothing her
own hair. Genji happened to pass by. He stole unperceived into the
room, and slyly tugged the skirt of her robe. She started, and
instinctively half concealed her face with an old-fashioned fan, and
looked back at Genji with an arch glance in her sunken eyes. "What an
unsuitable fan for you! " exclaimed Genji, and took it from her hand.
It was made of reddish paper, apparently long in use, and upon it an
ancient forest had been thickly painted. In a corner was written, in
antique style, the following words:--
"On grasses old, 'neath forest trees,
No steed will browse or swain delay,
However real that grass may be,
'Tis neither good for food nor play. "
Genji was highly amused. "There are many things one might write on
fans," thought he; "what made her think of writing such odd lines as
these? "
"Ah! " said Genji, "I see, 'its summer shade is still thick
though! '"[74]
While he was joking he felt something like nervousness in thinking
what people might say if anyone happened to see him flirting with such
an elderly lady. She, on her side, had no such fear. She replied--
"If beneath that forest tree,
The steed should come or swain should be,
Where that ancient forest grows,
Is grass for food, and sweet repose. "
"What? " retorted Genji,
"If my steed should venture near,
Perhaps he'd find a rival there,
Some one's steed full well, I ween,
Rejoices in these pastures green. "
And quitted the room.
The Emperor, who had been peeping unobserved into it, after he had
finished his toilet, laughed heartily to himself at the scene.
To-no-Chiujio was somehow informed of Genji's fun with this lady, and
became anxious to discover how far he meant to carry on the joke. He
therefore sought her acquaintance. Genji knew nothing of this. It
happened on a cool summer evening that Genji was sauntering round the
Ummeiden in the palace yard. He heard the sound of a _biwa_ (mandolin)
proceeding from a veranda. It was played by this lady. She performed
well upon it, for she was often accustomed to play it before the
Emperor along with male musicians. It sounded very charming. She was
also singing to it the "Melon grower. "
"Ah! " thought Genji, "the singing woman in Gakshoo, whom the poet
spoke of, may have been like this one," and he stood still and
listened. Slowly he approached near the veranda, humming slowly, as
he went, "Adzmaya," which she soon noticed, and took up the song, "Do
open and come in! but
I do not believe you're in the rain,
Nor that you really wish to come in. "
Genji at once responded,
"Whose love you may be I know not,
But I'll not stand outside your cot,"
and was going away, when he suddenly thought, "This is too abrupt! "
and coming back, he entered the apartment.
How great was the joy of To-no-Chiujio, who had followed Genji
unperceived by him, when he saw this. He contrived a plan to frighten
him, so he reconnoitred in order to find some favorable opportunity.
The evening breeze blew chill, and Genji it appears was becoming very
indifferent. Choosing this moment To-no-Chiujio slyly stepped forth to
the spot where Genji was resting.
Genji soon noticed his footsteps, but he never imagined that it was
his brother-in-law. He thought it was Suri-no-Kami, a great friend of
the lady. He did not wish to be seen by this man. He reproached her
for knowing that he was expected, but that she did not give him any
hint. Carrying his Naoshi on his arm, he hid himself behind a folding
screen. To-no-Chiujio, suppressing a laugh, advanced to the side of
the screen, and began to fold it from one end to the other, making a
crashing noise as he did so. The lady was in a dilemma, and stood
aloof. Genji would fain have run out, and concealed himself elsewhere,
but he could not get on his Naoshi, and his head-dress was all awry.
The Chiujio spoke not a word lest he should betray himself, but making
a pretended angry expostulation, he drew his sword. All at once the
lady threw herself at his feet, crying, "My lord! my lord! "
To-no-Chiujio could scarcely constrain himself from laughing. She was
a woman of about fifty seven, but her excitement was more like that of
a girl of twenty.
Genji gradually perceived that the man's rage was only simulated, and
soon became aware who it was that was there; so he suddenly rushed
out, and catching hold of To-no-Chiujio's sword-arm, pinched it
severely. To-no-Chiujio no longer maintained his disguise, but burst
into loud laughter.
"How are you my friend, were you in earnest? " exclaimed Genji,
jestingly--"but first let me put on my Naoshi. " But To-no-Chiujio
caught it, and tried to prevent him putting it on.
"Then I will have yours," cried Genji, seizing the end of
To-no-Chiujio's sash, and beginning to unfasten it, while the latter
resisted. Then they both began to struggle, and their Naoshi soon
began to tear.
"Ah," cried To-no-Chiujio,
"Like the Naoshi to the eye,
Your secrets all discovered lie. "
"Well," replied Genji,
"This secret if so well you know,
Why am I now disturbed by you? "
And they both quitted the room without much noticing the state of
their garments.
To-no-Chiujio proceeded to his official chamber, and Genji to his own
apartment. The sash and other things which they had left behind them
were soon afterwards sent to Genji by the lady.
The sash was that of To-no-Chiujio. Its color was somewhat deeper than
his own, and while he was looking at this, he suddenly noticed that
one end of a sleeve of his own Naoshi was wanting. "To-no-Chiujio, I
suppose, has carried it off, but I have him also, for here is his
sash! " A page boy from To-no-Chiujio's office hereupon entered,
carrying a packet in which the missing sleeve was wrapped, and a
message advising Genji to get it mended before all things. "Fancy if I
had not got this sash? " thought Genji, as he made the boy take it back
to his master in return.
In the morning they were in attendance at Court. They were both
serious and solemn in demeanor, as it happened to be a day when there
was more official business than on other days; To-no-Chiujio (who
being chief of the Kurand, which office has to receive and despatch
official documents) was especially much occupied. Nevertheless they
were amused themselves at seeing each other's solemn gravity.
In an interval, when free from duty, To-no-Chiujio came up to Genji
and said, with envious eyes, "Have you not been a little scared in
your private expedition? " when Genji replied, "No, why so? there was
nothing serious in it; but I do sympathize with one who took so much
useless trouble. "
They then cautioned each other to be discreet about the matter, which
became afterwards a subject for laughter between them.
Now even some Royal Princes would give way to Genji, on account of his
father's favor towards him, but To-no-Chiujio, on the contrary, was
always prepared to dispute with him on any subject, and did not yield
to him in any way. He was the only brother of the Lady Aoi by the same
Royal mother, with an influential State personage for their father,
and in his eyes there did not seem to be much difference between
himself and Genji.
The incidents of the rivalry between them, therefore, were often very
amusing, though we cannot relate them all.
In the month of July the Princess Wistaria was proclaimed Empress.
This was done because the Emperor had a notion of abdication in favor
of the Heir-apparent and of making the son of the Princess Wistaria
the Heir-apparent to the new Emperor, but there was no appropriate
guardian or supporter, and all relations on the mother's side were of
the Royal blood, and thereby disqualified from taking any active part
in political affairs.
For this reason the Emperor wished to make the position of the mother
firmer.
The mother of the Heir-apparent, whom this arrangement left still a
simple Niogo, was naturally hurt and uneasy at another being
proclaimed Empress. Indeed she was the mother of the Heir-apparent,
and had been so for more than twenty years. And the public remarked
that it was a severe trial for her to be thus superseded by another.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 71: Kalavinka, the beautifully singing holy birds in
Paradise, to whose singing the voice of Buddha is compared. ]
[Footnote 72: On New Year's Eve, in Japan, some people fry peas, and
throw them about the rooms, saying, "Avaunt, Devil, avaunt! Come in
happiness! " This is called driving out devils. ]
[Footnote 73: An infant born to the Emperor is presented to him only
when it has attained the age of some months. ]
[Footnote 74: From an old poem,
"The shade of Oaraki forest is thick:
The summer has come there, the summer has come! "
This is a mere metaphorical pun referring to her still being lively in
spite of age. ]
CHAPTER VIII
FLOWER-FEAST
Towards the end of February the cherry flowers at the front of the
Southern Palace were coming into blossom, and a feast was given to
celebrate the occasion. The weather was most lovely, and the merry
birds were singing their melody to the charms of the scene. All the
Royal Princes, nobles and _literati_ were assembled, and among them
the Emperor made his appearance, accompanied by the Princess Wistaria
(now Empress) on the one side, and the Niogo of Kokiden, the mother of
the Heir-apparent on the other; the latter having constrained herself
to take part with her rival in the _fete_, in spite of her uneasiness
at the recent promotion of that rival.
When all the seats were taken the composing[75] of poems, as was the
custom, commenced, and they began picking up the rhymes. The turn came
in due course to Genji, who picked up the word spring. Next to Genji,
To-no-Chiujio took his.
Many more followed them, including several aged professors, who had
often been present on similar occasions, with faces wrinkled by time,
and figures bowed by the weight of years. The movements and
announcements[76] both of Genji and his brother-in-law were elegant
and graceful, as might be expected; but among those who followed there
were not a few who showed awkwardness, this being more the case with
scholars of ordinary accomplishments, since this was an epoch when the
Emperor, the Heir-apparent and others of high distinction were more or
less accomplished in these arts.
Meanwhile, they all partook of the feast; the selected musicians
joyfully played their parts, and as the sun was setting, "The
Spring-lark Sings" (name of a dance) was danced. This reminded those
present of Genji's dance at the maple _fete_, and the Heir-apparent
pressed him to dance, at the same moment putting on his head a wreath
of flowers. Upon this Genji stood up, and waving his sleeves, danced a
little. To-no-Chiujio was next requested by the Emperor to do the same
thing, and he danced the "Willow Flower Gardens" most elaborately, and
was honored by the Emperor with a present of a roll of silk. After
them, many young nobles danced indiscriminately, one after another,
but we cannot give an opinion about them as the darkness was already
gathering round. Lamps were at length brought, when the reading of the
poems took place, and late in the evening all present dispersed.
The palace grounds now became quite tranquil, and over them the moon
shone with her soft light.
Genji, his temper mellowed by _sake_, was tempted to take a stroll to
see what he could see. He first sauntered round Fuji-Tsubo (the
chamber of Wistaria) and came up by the side of the corridor of
Kokiden. He noticed a small private door standing open. It seems that
the Niogo was in her upper chamber at the Emperor's quarters, having
gone there after she retired from the feast. The inner sliding door
was also left open, and no human voice was heard from within.
"Such are occasions on which one often compromises one's self,"
thought he, and yet slowly approached the entrance. Just at that
moment he heard a tender voice coming toward him, humming, "Nothing so
sweet as the _oboro_[77] moon-night. " Genji waited her approach, and
caught her by the sleeve. It made her start. "Who are you? " she
exclaimed. "Don't be alarmed," he replied, and gently led her back to
the corridor. He then added, "Let us look out on the moonlight
together. " She was, of course, nervous, and would fain have cried out.
"Hush," said he; "know that I am one with whom no one will interfere;
be gentle, and let us talk a little while. " These words convinced her
that it was Prince Genji, and calmed her fears.
It appears that he had taken more _sake_ than usual, and this made him
rather reckless. The girl, on the other hand, was still very young,
but she was witty and pleasantly disposed, and spent some time in
conversing with him.
He did not yet know who she was, and asked, "Can't you let me know
your name? Suppose I wish to write to you hereafter? " But she gave no
decided answer; so Genji, after exchanging his fan with hers, left her
and quietly returned to his apartments.
Genji's thoughts were now directed to his new acquaintance. He was
convinced that she was one of the younger sisters of the Niogo. He
knew that one of them was married to a Prince, one of his own
relations, and another to his brother-in-law, To-no-Chiujio. He was
perfectly sure that his new acquaintance was not either of these, and
he presumed her to be the fifth or sixth of them, but was not sure
which of these two.
"How can I ascertain this? " he thought. "If I compromise myself, and
her father becomes troublesome, that won't do; but yet I must know. "
The fan which he had just acquired was of the color of cherry. On it
was a picture representing the pale moon coming out of a purple cloud,
throwing a dim light upon the water.
To Genji this was precious. He wrote on one side the following, and
kept it carefully, with a longing for the chance of making it
useful:--
"The moon I love has left the sky,
And where 'tis hid I cannot tell;
I search in vain, in vain I try
To find the spot where it may dwell. "
Now, it so happened that on a certain day at the end of March, an
archery meeting was to be held at Udaijin's, in which numerous noble
youths were to be present, and which was to be succeeded by the
Wistaria flower-feast. The height of the flower season was past, but
there were two cherry-trees, besides the Wistaria in the gardens,
which blossomed later. A new building in the ground, which had been
decorated for the occasion of the Mogi[78] of the two Princesses, was
being beautifully arranged for this occasion.
Genji also had been told one day at Court by Udaijin that he might
join the meeting. When the day came Genji did not arrive early.
Udaijin sent by one of his sons the following haughty message to
Genji, who was at the time with the Emperor:--
"If the flowers of my home were of every-day hue,
Why should they so long a time have tarried for you? "
Genji at once showed this to the Emperor, asking whether he had better
go. "Ah! " said the latter, smiling, "This is from a great personage.
You had better go, I should think; besides there are the Princesses
there.
Another answered her, "How was it we did not like the mansion when the
late Prince was living? "
Thus they talked about one thing or another connected with their
mistress's want of means.
Genji did not like that they should know that he had seen and heard
all this, so he slyly withdrew some distance, and then advancing with
a firm step, approached the door and knocked.
"Some one is come," cried a servant, who then brought a light, opened
the door, and showed him into a room where he was soon joined by the
Princess, neither Tayu nor Kojijiu being there on this occasion. The
latter was acquainted with the Saiin (the sacred virgin at the Temple
of Kamo),[66] and often spent some time with her. On this occasion she
happened to be visiting her, a circumstance which was not very
convenient for the Princess. The dilapidated state of the mansion was
just as novel to Genji as that which he had seen in the lodge of
Yugao, but the great drawback consisted in the Princess's want of
responsiveness. He spoke much, she but little. Outside, in the
meantime, the weather had become boisterous and snow fell thickly,
while within in the room where they sat the lamp burned dimly, no one
waiting there even to trim the light.
Some hours were spent between them, and then Genji rose, and throwing
up the shutter in the same way as he did in the lodge of Yugao, looked
upon the snow which had fallen in the garden. The ground was covered
with a sheet of pure whiteness; no footstep had left its trace,
betraying the fact that few persons came to the mansion. He was about
to take his departure, but some vague impulse arrested him. Turning to
the Princess, he asked her to come near him, and to look out on the
scene, and she somewhat unreadily complied.
The evening was far advanced, but the reflection of the snow threw a
faint light over all. Now, for the first time, he discovered the
imperfections of the personal attractions of the Princess. First, her
stature was very tall, the upper part of her figure being out of
proportion to the lower, then one thing which startled him most was
her nose. It reminded him of the elephant of Fugen. It was high and
long; while its peak, a little drooping, was tinged with pink. To the
refined eyes of Genji this was a sad defect. Moreover, she was thin,
too thin; and her shoulders drooped too much, as if the dress was too
heavy for them.
"Why am I so anxious to examine and criticise? " thought Genji, but his
curiosity impelled him to continue his examination. Her hair and the
shape of her head were good, in no way inferior to those of others he
liked so well. Her complexion was fair, and her forehead well
developed. The train of her dress, which hung down gracefully, seemed
about a foot too long. If I described everything which she wore I
should become loquacious, but in old stories the dress of the
personages is very often more minutely described than anything else;
so I must, I suppose, do the same. Her vest and skirt dress were
double, and were of light green silk, a little worn, over which was a
robe of dark color. Over all this she wore a mantle of sable of good
quality, only a little too antique in fashion. To all these things,
therefore, he felt no strong objection; but the two things he could
not pass unnoticed were her nose, and her style of movement. She moved
in a stiff and constrained manner, like a master of the ceremonies in
some Court procession, spreading out his arms and looking important.
This afforded him amusement, but still he felt for her. "If I say too
much, pardon me," said Genji, "but you seem apparently friendless. I
should advise you to take interest in one with whom you have made
acquaintance. He will sympathize with you. You are much too reserved.
Why are you so?
The icicle hangs at the gable end,
But melts when the sun is high,
Why does your heart not to me unbend,
And warm to my melting sigh. "
A smile passed over the lips of the Princess, but they seemed too
stiff to reply in a similar strain. She said nothing.
The time had now come for Genji to depart. His carriage was drawn up
to the middle gate, which, like everything else that belonged to the
mansion, was in a state of dilapidation. "The spot overgrown with wild
vegetation, spoken of by Sama-no-Kami might be such as this," he
thought. "If one can find a real beauty of elevated character and
obtain her, how delightful would it not be! The spot answers the
description, but the girl does not quite equal the idea; however, I
really pity her, and will look after her. She is a fortunate girl, for
if I were not such a one as I am, I should have little sympathy for
the unfortunate and unfavored. But this is not what I shall do. "
He saw an orange tree in the garden covered with snow. He bade his
servant shake it free. A pine tree which stood close by suddenly
jerked its branches as if in emulation of its neighbor, and threw off
its load of snow like a wave. The gate through which he had to drive
out was not yet opened. The gatekeeper was summoned to open it.
Thereupon an aged man came forth from his lodge. A miserable-looking
girl with a pinched countenance stood by, his daughter or his
granddaughter, whose dress looked poorer from the whiteness of the
surrounding snow. She had something containing lighted charcoal which
she held to her breast for warmth.
When she observed that her aged parent could scarcely push back the
gate, she came forward and helped him. And the scene was quite droll.
Genji's servant also approached them, and the gates were thrown open.
Again Genji hummed:--
"The one who on the time-bent head of age,
Beholds the gathered snow,
Nor less his tears of grief may shed,
For griefs that youth can only know. "
and added, "Youth with its body uncovered. "[67] Then the pitiable
image of one with a tinged flower[68] on her face presented itself
once more to his thoughts and made him smile.
"If To-no-Chiujio observed this, what would he not have to say? "
thought he, as he drove back slowly to his mansion.
After this time communications were frequently sent from Genji to the
Princess. This he did because he pitied the helpless condition and
circumstances he had witnessed more than for any other reason. He also
sent her rolls of silk, which might replace the old-fashioned
sable-skins, some damask, calico and the like. Indeed, presents were
made even to her aged servants and to the gatekeeper.
In ordinary circumstances with women, particular attention such as
this might make a blush, but the Princess did not take it in such a
serious light, nor did Genji do this from any other motive than
kindness.
The year approached its end! He was in his apartment in the Imperial
Palace, when one morning Tayu came in. She was very useful to him in
small services, such as hairdressing, so she had easy access to him,
and thus she came to him this morning.
"I have something strange to tell you, but it is somewhat trying for
me to do so," she said, half smiling.
"What can it be? There can be nothing to conceal from me! "
"But I have some reason for my hesitation to reveal it," replied Tayu.
"You make a difficulty, as usual," rejoined Genji.
"This is from the Princess," she said, taking a letter from her pocket
and presenting it.
"Is this a thing of all others that you ought to conceal," cried
Genji, taking the letter and opening it. It was written on thick and
coarse paper of Michinok manufacture. The verse it contained ran as
follows:--
"Like this, my sleeves are worn away,
By weeping at your long delay. "
These words puzzled Genji. Inclining his head in a contemplative way,
he glanced from the paper to Tayu, and from Tayu to the paper. Then
she drew forth a substantial case of antique pattern, saying, "I
cannot produce such a thing without shame, but the Princess expressly
sent this for your New Year. I could not return it to her nor keep it
myself; I hope you will just look at it. "
"Oh, certainly," replied Genji. "It is very kind of her," at the same
time thinking, "What a pitiful verse! This may really be her own
composition. No doubt Kojijiu has been absent, besides she seems to
have had no master to improve her penmanship. This must have been
written with great effort. We ought to be grateful for it, as they
say. " Here a smile rose on Genji's cheeks, and a blush upon Tayu's.
The case was opened, and a Naoshi (a kind of gown), of scarlet, shabby
and old-fashioned, of the same color on both sides, was found inside.
The sight was almost too much for Genji from its very absurdity. He
stretched out the paper on which the verse had been written, and began
to write on one side, as if he was merely playing with the pen. Tayu,
glancing slyly, found that he had written:--
This color pleases not mine eye,
Too fiery bright its gaudy hue,
And when the saffron flower was nigh,
The same pink tinge was plain to view.
He then erased what he had written, but Tayu quickly understood what
he really meant by "saffron flower," referring to the pinkness of its
flower, so she remarked:--
"Although the dress too bright in hue,
And scarlet tints may please you not,
At least to her, who sends, be true,
Soon will Naoshi be forgot. "
While they were thus prattling on the matter, people were entering the
room to see him, so Genji hastily put the things aside, and Tayu
retired.
A few days after, Genji one morning looked into the Daihan-sho (large
parlor), where he found Tayu, and threw a letter to her, saying,
"Tayu, here is the answer. It has cost me some pains," and then passed
through, humming as he went, with a peculiar smile,
"Like that scarlet-tinged plum. "
None but Tayu understood the real allusion. One of the women observed,
"The weather is too frosty, perhaps he has seen some one reddened by
the frost. " Another said, "What an absurdity! There is no one among us
of that hue, but perhaps Sakon or Uneme may be like this," and thus
they chattered on till the matter dropped.
The letter was soon sent by Tayu to the Princess, who assembled all
her attendants round her, and they all read it together, when the
following was found in it:--
Of my rare visits you complain,
But can the meaning be,
Pray come not often, nor again,
For I am tired of thee.
On the last day of the year he made the following presents to the
Princess, sending them in the same case as the Naoshi had been sent to
him: stuff for a complete dress, which had originally been presented
to himself; also rolls of silk, one of the color of the purple grape,
another of the Kerria japonica color, and others. All these were
handed to the Princess by Tayu. It should be observed that these
presents were made by Genji to the Princess chiefly on account of her
reduced circumstances. Her attendants, however, who wished to flatter
their mistress, exclaimed, "Our scarlet dress was very good, too.
Scarlet is a color which never fades. The lines we sent were also
excellent. Those of the Prince are, no doubt, a little amusing, but
nothing more. "
The Princess, flattered by the remarks, wrote down her verse in her
album, as if worthy of preservation.
The New Year began with the morrow; and it was announced that the
Otoko-doka (gentlemen's singing dances) would soon take place in which
Genji would take part. Hence he was busy in going backwards and
forwards, to practise, but the lonely residence of the saffron flower
began to draw his thoughts in that direction. So after the ceremony of
the State Festival, on the seventh day, he betook himself there in the
evening, after he had left the Emperor's presence, having made a
pretence of retiring to his own private apartments. On this occasion
the appearance of the lady happened to be a little more attractive,
and Genji was pleased, thinking there might be a time when she would
improve still more. When the sun shone forth he rose to leave. He
opened the casement on the western side of the mansion, and, looking
at the corridor, perceived that its roof was broken. Through it the
sunshine peeped, and shone upon the slight cover of snow scattered in
the crevices. The scene, as we have before said, betrayed everywhere
dilapidation and decay.
The mirror-stand, combs, and dressing-case were brought in by an
attendant. They were all of an extremely antique pattern. He drew an
"arm-stool" near him, and resting himself upon it began combing his
hair. He was amused at the sight of these articles, which were
doubtless a legacy from her parents. The dress of the Princess was in
every way nicer. It had been made out of the silk of Genji's present.
He recognized it by the tasteful pattern. Turning to her he said,
"This year you might become a little more genial, the only thing I
wait for above all is a change in your demeanor. " To which she, with
some awkwardness, said,
"In the spring, when numerous birds sing. "
Such poetic responses were a great delight to Genji, who thought they
were the silent touches of time, and that she had made some
improvement. He then left and returned to his mansion in Nijio, where
he saw the young Violet innocently amusing herself. She wore with
grace a long close-fitting cherry-colored dress of plain silk. She had
not yet blackened her teeth,[69] but he now made her do so, which gave
a pleasant contrast to her eyebrows. He played at their usual games at
toys with her, trying in every way to please her. She drew pictures
and painted them, so did he also. He drew the likeness of a lady with
long hair, and painted her nose with pink. Even in caricature it was
odd to see. He turned his head to a mirror in which he saw his own
image reflected in great serenity. He then took the brush and painted
his own nose pink. Violet, on seeing this, screamed.
"When I become ornamented in this way what shall I be like? " inquired
Genji.
"That would be a great pity. Do wipe it off, it might stain," she
replied.
Genji partly wiped it off, saying, "Need I wipe it off any more?
Suppose I go with this to the Palace? "
On this Violet approached and carefully wiped it for him. "Don't put
any more color," cried Genji, "and play upon me as Heijiu. "[70]
The mild sun of spring descended in the west, and darkness slowly
gathered over the forest tops, obscuring all but the lovely white plum
blossoms which were still visible amidst the gloom. At the front of
the porch, also, a red plum blossom, which usually opens very early,
was deeply tinged with glowing hues. Genji murmured:--
"The 'red-tinged flower' is far from fair,
Nor do my eyes delight to see,
But yon red plum which blossoms there,
Is full of loveliness to me. "
What will become of all these personages!
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 65: Young nobles spent a night in the palace in turns, to
attend to any unexpected official business. ]
[Footnote 66: When a new emperor succeeded, two virgins, chosen from
the royal princesses, were sent--one to the Shinto temple at Ise, the
other to the same temple at Kamo--to become vestals, and superintend
the services. ]
[Footnote 67: From a Chinese poem about poor people "night advancing,
snow and hail fly white around. Youth with its body uncovered, and the
aged with chilly pain, grief and cold come together, and make them
both sob. "]
[Footnote 68: A play upon the word "hana," which means a nose, as well
as a flower. ]
[Footnote 69: An old custom in Japan for girls when married, or even
betrothed, is to blacken their teeth. This custom, however, is rapidly
disappearing. ]
[Footnote 70: In an old tale it is stated that this man had a
sweetheart. He often pretended to be weeping, and made his eyes moist
by using the water which he kept in his bottle for mixing ink, in
order to deceive her. She discovered this ruse; so one day she put ink
into it secretly. He damped his eyes as usual, when, giving him a hand
mirror, she hummed, "You may show me your tears, but don't show your
blackened face to strangers. "]
CHAPTER VII
MAPLE FETE
The Royal visit to the Suzak-in was arranged to take place towards the
middle of October, and was anticipated to be a grand affair. Ladies
were not expected to take part in it, and they all regretted their not
being able to be present.
The Emperor, therefore, wished to let his favorite, the Princess
Wistaria, above others, have an opportunity of witnessing a rehearsal
that would represent the coming _fete_, and ordered a preliminary
concert to be performed at the Court, in which Genji danced the "Blue
Main Waves," with To-no-Chiujio for his partner. They stood and danced
together, forming a most pleasing contrast--one, so to speak, like a
bright flower; the other, an everlasting verdure beside it. The rays
of the setting sun shone over their heads, and the tones of the music
rose higher and higher in measure to their steps. The movements both
of hand and foot were eminently graceful; as well, also, was the song
of Genji, which was sung at the end of his dance, so that some of the
people remarked that the sound of the holy bird, Kariobinga,[71] might
be even like this. And so the rehearsal ended.
When the day of the _fete_ came, all the Royal Princes, including the
Heir-apparent, and all personages of State, were present at the scene.
On the lake, "the music boat," filled with selected musicians, floated
about, as usual on such occasions; and in the grounds, the bands,
which were divided into two divisions on the right and left, under the
direction of two Ministers and two Yemon-no-Kami, played. With this
music different dances, including Chinese and Corean, were performed,
one after another, by various dancers. As the performance went on, the
high winds rustled against the tall fir-trees, as though Divine
strains of music had broken forth on high in harmony with them. The
tune of the bands became quick and thrilling, as different colored
leaves whirled about overhead.
Then, at length, the hero of the "Blue Main Waves" made his
appearance, to the delight of the suddenly startled spectators, from
the midst of a knoll in the grounds, covered with maple leaves. The
twigs of maple which crowned his head, became thinned as he danced,
and a Sadaishio, plucking a bunch of chrysanthemums from in front of
the Royal stand, replaced the lessened maple leaves. The sun was by
this time descending, and the sky had become less glaring, while the
face of Nature seemed as if it were smiling on the scene. Genji danced
with unusual skill and energy. All the pages and attendants, who were
severally stationed here under the side of the rock, there under the
shade of the foliage, were quite impressed with the effects of the
performance.
After Genji, a little prince, the child of the Niogo of Jiokio-den,
danced the "Autumn Gales," with a success next to that of Genji. Then,
the principal interest of the day being over, as these dances were
finished, the _fete_ ended. This very evening Genji was invested with
the title of Shosammi, and To-no-Chiujio with that of Shoshii. Many
other persons also received promotion in rank according to their
merits.
It was after this _fete_ that the young Violet was taken into the
mansion of Genji at Nijio, and she lived with him. The more care he
took of her the more amiable she became, while nothing pleased him
more than teaching her to read and write.
The full extent of her mourning for her grandmother was three months,
as it is for the maternal side; and on the last day of December her
dress was changed. As she, however, had been always brought up under
the care of her grandmother, her indebtedness to the latter was not to
be held lightly; consequently any bright colors were not advisable for
her, so she wore plain scarlet, mauve, and light yellow, without
trimmings or ornament on them.
The dawn ushered in the New Year's day. Genji was about to leave his
mansion to attend the New Year's _levee_. Just before starting, he
came into Violet's room to see her.
"How are you? Are you becoming less childish now? " said he, with a
smile to the girl who was playing with her Hina (toys).
"I am trying to mend this. Inuki damaged it when he was playing what
he called 'driving out devils,'"[72] replied the girl.
"What carelessness! I will soon get it mended for you. Don't cry this
day, please," said Genji, and he went off, the maidens who attended on
Violet accompanying him to the door. This example was also followed by
Violet herself.
She went back again to her toys, and presented a toy prince, whom she
called Genji, at the Court of her toy house. Shionagon was beside her.
She said:--
"You might really be a little more womanly, as the Prince told you.
How very childish! a girl older than ten always playing with toys! "
Violet said nothing; but she seemed, for the first time, to have
become aware that she was expected to be a woman in the course of
time.
From the Court, Genji went to the mansion of Sadaijin. Lady Aoi was as
cool to him as ever. His persuasive eloquence availed him but little.
She was older than Genji by four years, and was as cold and stately in
her mien as ever. Her father, however, received him joyfully whenever
he called, although he was not always satisfied with the
capriciousness of his son-in-law.
The next morning Genji rose early, and was arranging his toilet, with
a view of making his New Year's visits, when Sadaijin entered the
room, and officiously assisted him in putting on his dress, except,
perhaps, his boots. He, moreover, had brought him a belt mounted with
rare jewels, and requested him to wear it.
Genji observed: "Such a belt is more suited for some special
occasion--such as a Royal banquet, or the like. " But Sadaijin insisted
on his putting it on, telling him that for that sort of occasion he
possessed a much more valuable one.
These New Year's visits were only paid to the Emperor, to the
Heir-apparent, and to the Princess Wistaria at her private residence
in Sanjio, where she had retired, but she did not receive him
personally. At this time, the Princess was not in her usual state of
health, for she was approaching her confinement. Many people, who
thought that they might have heard of the event in December, now began
to say, "At least we shall receive the intelligence this month," and
the Emperor himself became impatient; but the month passed away, and
yet it did not happen. In the middle of February, however, she was
safely delivered of a Prince. During the following April the child was
presented to the Emperor. [73] He was rather big for his age, and had
already begun to notice those around him.
In these days much of Genji's time was passed at Nijio with Violet,
and Lady Aoi was still greatly neglected. The circumstances which
induced him to stay at home more than ever were these: He would order
his carriage to be brought in readiness to take him; but, before it
was ready, he would proceed to the western wing, where Violet lived.
Perhaps, with eyes drowsy after dozing, and playing on a flute as he
went, he would find her moping on one side of the room, like a fair
flower moistened with dews. He would then approach her side, and say,
"How are you? Are you not well? " She, without being startled, would
slowly open her eyes, and murmur: "Sad like the weed in a creek," and
then put her hand on her mouth deprecatingly. On this he would remark,
"How knowing you are! Where did you learn such things? " He would then
call for a _koto_, and saying "The worst of the _soh-koto_ is that its
middle chord should break so easily," would arrange it for a Hiojio
tune, and when he had struck a few chords on it, would offer it to
her, asking her to play, and would presently accompany her with his
flute. They would then play some difficult air, perhaps Hosoroguseri,
a very ugly name, but a very lively tune, and she would keep very good
time, and display her skill. The lamp would be presently brought in,
and they would look over some pictures together. In due time, the
carriage would be announced. Perhaps it might be added, "It is coming
on to rain. " Upon hearing this, she would, perhaps, put her pictures
aside, and become downcast. He would then smooth her wavy hair, and
say, "Are you sorry when I am not here? " To this question she would
indicate her feelings by slightly nodding an affirmative, and she
would lean on his knee and begin to doze.
He would then say, "I shall not go out to-night. " The servant having
brought in supper, would tell her that Genji was not going out that
evening. Then she would manifest the greatest delight, and would
partake of the supper. And thus it came to pass that he often
disappointed one who was expecting him.
The way that Genji neglected his bride gradually became known to the
public--nay, to the Emperor himself, who sometimes admonished him,
telling him that his father-in-law always took great interest in him
and great care from his earliest childhood, and saying that he hoped
that he would surely not forget all these benefits, and that it was
strange to be unkind to his daughter. But when these remarks were made
to Genji, he answered nothing.
Let us now change our subject. The Emperor, though he had already
passed the meridian of life, was still fond of the society of the fair
sex. And his Court was full of ladies who were well versed in the ways
of the world. Some of these would occasionally amuse themselves by
paying attentions to Genji. We will here relate the following amusing
incident:--
There was at the Court a Naishi-no-Ske, who was already no longer
young, and commonly called Gen-Naishi-no-Ske. Both her family and
character were good. She was, however, in spite of her age, still
coquettish, which was her only fault. Genji often felt amused at her
being so young in temperament, and he enjoyed occasionally talking
nonsense with her. She used to attend on the Emperor while his hair
was being dressed. One day, after he had retired into his
dressing-room, she remained in the other room, and was smoothing her
own hair. Genji happened to pass by. He stole unperceived into the
room, and slyly tugged the skirt of her robe. She started, and
instinctively half concealed her face with an old-fashioned fan, and
looked back at Genji with an arch glance in her sunken eyes. "What an
unsuitable fan for you! " exclaimed Genji, and took it from her hand.
It was made of reddish paper, apparently long in use, and upon it an
ancient forest had been thickly painted. In a corner was written, in
antique style, the following words:--
"On grasses old, 'neath forest trees,
No steed will browse or swain delay,
However real that grass may be,
'Tis neither good for food nor play. "
Genji was highly amused. "There are many things one might write on
fans," thought he; "what made her think of writing such odd lines as
these? "
"Ah! " said Genji, "I see, 'its summer shade is still thick
though! '"[74]
While he was joking he felt something like nervousness in thinking
what people might say if anyone happened to see him flirting with such
an elderly lady. She, on her side, had no such fear. She replied--
"If beneath that forest tree,
The steed should come or swain should be,
Where that ancient forest grows,
Is grass for food, and sweet repose. "
"What? " retorted Genji,
"If my steed should venture near,
Perhaps he'd find a rival there,
Some one's steed full well, I ween,
Rejoices in these pastures green. "
And quitted the room.
The Emperor, who had been peeping unobserved into it, after he had
finished his toilet, laughed heartily to himself at the scene.
To-no-Chiujio was somehow informed of Genji's fun with this lady, and
became anxious to discover how far he meant to carry on the joke. He
therefore sought her acquaintance. Genji knew nothing of this. It
happened on a cool summer evening that Genji was sauntering round the
Ummeiden in the palace yard. He heard the sound of a _biwa_ (mandolin)
proceeding from a veranda. It was played by this lady. She performed
well upon it, for she was often accustomed to play it before the
Emperor along with male musicians. It sounded very charming. She was
also singing to it the "Melon grower. "
"Ah! " thought Genji, "the singing woman in Gakshoo, whom the poet
spoke of, may have been like this one," and he stood still and
listened. Slowly he approached near the veranda, humming slowly, as
he went, "Adzmaya," which she soon noticed, and took up the song, "Do
open and come in! but
I do not believe you're in the rain,
Nor that you really wish to come in. "
Genji at once responded,
"Whose love you may be I know not,
But I'll not stand outside your cot,"
and was going away, when he suddenly thought, "This is too abrupt! "
and coming back, he entered the apartment.
How great was the joy of To-no-Chiujio, who had followed Genji
unperceived by him, when he saw this. He contrived a plan to frighten
him, so he reconnoitred in order to find some favorable opportunity.
The evening breeze blew chill, and Genji it appears was becoming very
indifferent. Choosing this moment To-no-Chiujio slyly stepped forth to
the spot where Genji was resting.
Genji soon noticed his footsteps, but he never imagined that it was
his brother-in-law. He thought it was Suri-no-Kami, a great friend of
the lady. He did not wish to be seen by this man. He reproached her
for knowing that he was expected, but that she did not give him any
hint. Carrying his Naoshi on his arm, he hid himself behind a folding
screen. To-no-Chiujio, suppressing a laugh, advanced to the side of
the screen, and began to fold it from one end to the other, making a
crashing noise as he did so. The lady was in a dilemma, and stood
aloof. Genji would fain have run out, and concealed himself elsewhere,
but he could not get on his Naoshi, and his head-dress was all awry.
The Chiujio spoke not a word lest he should betray himself, but making
a pretended angry expostulation, he drew his sword. All at once the
lady threw herself at his feet, crying, "My lord! my lord! "
To-no-Chiujio could scarcely constrain himself from laughing. She was
a woman of about fifty seven, but her excitement was more like that of
a girl of twenty.
Genji gradually perceived that the man's rage was only simulated, and
soon became aware who it was that was there; so he suddenly rushed
out, and catching hold of To-no-Chiujio's sword-arm, pinched it
severely. To-no-Chiujio no longer maintained his disguise, but burst
into loud laughter.
"How are you my friend, were you in earnest? " exclaimed Genji,
jestingly--"but first let me put on my Naoshi. " But To-no-Chiujio
caught it, and tried to prevent him putting it on.
"Then I will have yours," cried Genji, seizing the end of
To-no-Chiujio's sash, and beginning to unfasten it, while the latter
resisted. Then they both began to struggle, and their Naoshi soon
began to tear.
"Ah," cried To-no-Chiujio,
"Like the Naoshi to the eye,
Your secrets all discovered lie. "
"Well," replied Genji,
"This secret if so well you know,
Why am I now disturbed by you? "
And they both quitted the room without much noticing the state of
their garments.
To-no-Chiujio proceeded to his official chamber, and Genji to his own
apartment. The sash and other things which they had left behind them
were soon afterwards sent to Genji by the lady.
The sash was that of To-no-Chiujio. Its color was somewhat deeper than
his own, and while he was looking at this, he suddenly noticed that
one end of a sleeve of his own Naoshi was wanting. "To-no-Chiujio, I
suppose, has carried it off, but I have him also, for here is his
sash! " A page boy from To-no-Chiujio's office hereupon entered,
carrying a packet in which the missing sleeve was wrapped, and a
message advising Genji to get it mended before all things. "Fancy if I
had not got this sash? " thought Genji, as he made the boy take it back
to his master in return.
In the morning they were in attendance at Court. They were both
serious and solemn in demeanor, as it happened to be a day when there
was more official business than on other days; To-no-Chiujio (who
being chief of the Kurand, which office has to receive and despatch
official documents) was especially much occupied. Nevertheless they
were amused themselves at seeing each other's solemn gravity.
In an interval, when free from duty, To-no-Chiujio came up to Genji
and said, with envious eyes, "Have you not been a little scared in
your private expedition? " when Genji replied, "No, why so? there was
nothing serious in it; but I do sympathize with one who took so much
useless trouble. "
They then cautioned each other to be discreet about the matter, which
became afterwards a subject for laughter between them.
Now even some Royal Princes would give way to Genji, on account of his
father's favor towards him, but To-no-Chiujio, on the contrary, was
always prepared to dispute with him on any subject, and did not yield
to him in any way. He was the only brother of the Lady Aoi by the same
Royal mother, with an influential State personage for their father,
and in his eyes there did not seem to be much difference between
himself and Genji.
The incidents of the rivalry between them, therefore, were often very
amusing, though we cannot relate them all.
In the month of July the Princess Wistaria was proclaimed Empress.
This was done because the Emperor had a notion of abdication in favor
of the Heir-apparent and of making the son of the Princess Wistaria
the Heir-apparent to the new Emperor, but there was no appropriate
guardian or supporter, and all relations on the mother's side were of
the Royal blood, and thereby disqualified from taking any active part
in political affairs.
For this reason the Emperor wished to make the position of the mother
firmer.
The mother of the Heir-apparent, whom this arrangement left still a
simple Niogo, was naturally hurt and uneasy at another being
proclaimed Empress. Indeed she was the mother of the Heir-apparent,
and had been so for more than twenty years. And the public remarked
that it was a severe trial for her to be thus superseded by another.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 71: Kalavinka, the beautifully singing holy birds in
Paradise, to whose singing the voice of Buddha is compared. ]
[Footnote 72: On New Year's Eve, in Japan, some people fry peas, and
throw them about the rooms, saying, "Avaunt, Devil, avaunt! Come in
happiness! " This is called driving out devils. ]
[Footnote 73: An infant born to the Emperor is presented to him only
when it has attained the age of some months. ]
[Footnote 74: From an old poem,
"The shade of Oaraki forest is thick:
The summer has come there, the summer has come! "
This is a mere metaphorical pun referring to her still being lively in
spite of age. ]
CHAPTER VIII
FLOWER-FEAST
Towards the end of February the cherry flowers at the front of the
Southern Palace were coming into blossom, and a feast was given to
celebrate the occasion. The weather was most lovely, and the merry
birds were singing their melody to the charms of the scene. All the
Royal Princes, nobles and _literati_ were assembled, and among them
the Emperor made his appearance, accompanied by the Princess Wistaria
(now Empress) on the one side, and the Niogo of Kokiden, the mother of
the Heir-apparent on the other; the latter having constrained herself
to take part with her rival in the _fete_, in spite of her uneasiness
at the recent promotion of that rival.
When all the seats were taken the composing[75] of poems, as was the
custom, commenced, and they began picking up the rhymes. The turn came
in due course to Genji, who picked up the word spring. Next to Genji,
To-no-Chiujio took his.
Many more followed them, including several aged professors, who had
often been present on similar occasions, with faces wrinkled by time,
and figures bowed by the weight of years. The movements and
announcements[76] both of Genji and his brother-in-law were elegant
and graceful, as might be expected; but among those who followed there
were not a few who showed awkwardness, this being more the case with
scholars of ordinary accomplishments, since this was an epoch when the
Emperor, the Heir-apparent and others of high distinction were more or
less accomplished in these arts.
Meanwhile, they all partook of the feast; the selected musicians
joyfully played their parts, and as the sun was setting, "The
Spring-lark Sings" (name of a dance) was danced. This reminded those
present of Genji's dance at the maple _fete_, and the Heir-apparent
pressed him to dance, at the same moment putting on his head a wreath
of flowers. Upon this Genji stood up, and waving his sleeves, danced a
little. To-no-Chiujio was next requested by the Emperor to do the same
thing, and he danced the "Willow Flower Gardens" most elaborately, and
was honored by the Emperor with a present of a roll of silk. After
them, many young nobles danced indiscriminately, one after another,
but we cannot give an opinion about them as the darkness was already
gathering round. Lamps were at length brought, when the reading of the
poems took place, and late in the evening all present dispersed.
The palace grounds now became quite tranquil, and over them the moon
shone with her soft light.
Genji, his temper mellowed by _sake_, was tempted to take a stroll to
see what he could see. He first sauntered round Fuji-Tsubo (the
chamber of Wistaria) and came up by the side of the corridor of
Kokiden. He noticed a small private door standing open. It seems that
the Niogo was in her upper chamber at the Emperor's quarters, having
gone there after she retired from the feast. The inner sliding door
was also left open, and no human voice was heard from within.
"Such are occasions on which one often compromises one's self,"
thought he, and yet slowly approached the entrance. Just at that
moment he heard a tender voice coming toward him, humming, "Nothing so
sweet as the _oboro_[77] moon-night. " Genji waited her approach, and
caught her by the sleeve. It made her start. "Who are you? " she
exclaimed. "Don't be alarmed," he replied, and gently led her back to
the corridor. He then added, "Let us look out on the moonlight
together. " She was, of course, nervous, and would fain have cried out.
"Hush," said he; "know that I am one with whom no one will interfere;
be gentle, and let us talk a little while. " These words convinced her
that it was Prince Genji, and calmed her fears.
It appears that he had taken more _sake_ than usual, and this made him
rather reckless. The girl, on the other hand, was still very young,
but she was witty and pleasantly disposed, and spent some time in
conversing with him.
He did not yet know who she was, and asked, "Can't you let me know
your name? Suppose I wish to write to you hereafter? " But she gave no
decided answer; so Genji, after exchanging his fan with hers, left her
and quietly returned to his apartments.
Genji's thoughts were now directed to his new acquaintance. He was
convinced that she was one of the younger sisters of the Niogo. He
knew that one of them was married to a Prince, one of his own
relations, and another to his brother-in-law, To-no-Chiujio. He was
perfectly sure that his new acquaintance was not either of these, and
he presumed her to be the fifth or sixth of them, but was not sure
which of these two.
"How can I ascertain this? " he thought. "If I compromise myself, and
her father becomes troublesome, that won't do; but yet I must know. "
The fan which he had just acquired was of the color of cherry. On it
was a picture representing the pale moon coming out of a purple cloud,
throwing a dim light upon the water.
To Genji this was precious. He wrote on one side the following, and
kept it carefully, with a longing for the chance of making it
useful:--
"The moon I love has left the sky,
And where 'tis hid I cannot tell;
I search in vain, in vain I try
To find the spot where it may dwell. "
Now, it so happened that on a certain day at the end of March, an
archery meeting was to be held at Udaijin's, in which numerous noble
youths were to be present, and which was to be succeeded by the
Wistaria flower-feast. The height of the flower season was past, but
there were two cherry-trees, besides the Wistaria in the gardens,
which blossomed later. A new building in the ground, which had been
decorated for the occasion of the Mogi[78] of the two Princesses, was
being beautifully arranged for this occasion.
Genji also had been told one day at Court by Udaijin that he might
join the meeting. When the day came Genji did not arrive early.
Udaijin sent by one of his sons the following haughty message to
Genji, who was at the time with the Emperor:--
"If the flowers of my home were of every-day hue,
Why should they so long a time have tarried for you? "
Genji at once showed this to the Emperor, asking whether he had better
go. "Ah! " said the latter, smiling, "This is from a great personage.
You had better go, I should think; besides there are the Princesses
there.
