"How late, how late!" he cried, in a peculiar tone. "Were you fatigued last night, eh?"
Genji rose and presently came out, saying, "I have overslept myself, that is all; nothing to disturb me. But have you come from the palace?
Was it your official watch-night?"[65]
"Yes," replied To-no-Chiujio, "and I must inform you that the dancers and musicians for the _fete_ in Suzak-in are to be nominated to-day. I came from the palace to report this to my father, so I must now go home, but I will soon return to you."
"I will go with you," said Genji, "but let us breakfast before we start."
Breakfast was accordingly brought, of which they partook. Two carriages, Genji"s and To-no-Chiujio"s, were driven to the door, but To-no-Chiujio invited the Prince to take a seat with him. Genji complied, and they drove off. Going along To-no-Chiujio observed with an envious tone in his voice, "You look very sleepy;" to which Genji returned an indifferent reply. From the house of Sadaijin they proceeded to the Imperial Palace to attend the selection of the dancers and musicians. Thence Genji drove with his father-in-law to the mansion of the latter.
Here in the excitement of the coming _fete_ were a.s.sembled several young n.o.bles, in addition to Genji himself. Some practised dancing, others music, the sound of which echoed everywhere around. A large _hichiriki_ and a _shakuhachi_ (two kinds of flute) were blown with the utmost vigor. Even large drums were rolled upon a balcony and beaten with a will.
During the following days, therefore, Genji was so busily engaged that no thought came across his mind of revisiting the Princess. .h.i.tachi.
Tayu certainly came now and then, and strove to induce him to pay the Princess another visit, but he made an excuse on the pretext of being so much occupied.
It was not until the _fete_ was over that one evening he resolved to pay a visit there. He did not, however, announce his intention openly, but went there in strict secrecy, making his way to the house un.o.bserved, as there was no one about.
On his arrival he went up to the latticed window and peeped through.
The curtains were old and half worn out, yet were still left to hang in the once pretty and decorated chamber. There were a few domestic maidens there partaking of supper. The table and service seemed to be old Chinese, but everything else betrayed a scantiness of furniture.
In the further room where the mistress was probably dining, an old waitress was pa.s.sing in and out, wearing a peculiar white dress rather faded in appearance, and an awkward-looking comb in her hair, after the old-fashioned style of those formerly in the service of the aristocratic cla.s.s, of whom a few might still be retained in a family.
"Ah," thought Genji, smiling, "we might see this kind of thing in the college of ceremonies." One of the maids happened to say, "This poor cold place! 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 circ.u.mstance 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 pa.s.s 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 amus.e.m.e.nt, 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 pa.s.sed 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 circ.u.mstances 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 circ.u.mstances 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 coa.r.s.e 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 pa.s.sed 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.