your parents. Have you been aware, my dear, that you have been luckier
than most? I know that it has not been easy for you to have the princess
move in on us all of a sudden. We sometimes do not notice the things that
are nearest to us, and you may not have noticed that her presence has made
me fonder of you. But you are quick to see these things, and perhaps I do
you an injustice."
"You are right, of course. I do not much matter, and it must seem to
most people that I have been more fortunate than I deserve. And that my
unhappiness should sometimes have seemed almost too much for me--
perhaps that is the prayer that has sustained me." She seemed to be
debating whether to go on. He thought her splendid. "I doubt that I have
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much longer to live. Indeed, I have my doubts about getting through this
year if I pretend that no changes are needed. It would make me very happy
if you would let me do what I have so long wanted to do."
"Quite out of the question. Do you think I could go on without you?
Not very much has happened these last years, I suppose, but knowing that
you are here has been the most important thing. You must see to the end
how very much I have loved you."
It was the usual thing, all over again.
A very little more and she would be in tears, he could see. He changed
the subject.
"I have not known enormous numbers of women, but I have con-
cluded that they all have their good points, and that the genuinely calm
and equable ones are very rare indeed.
"There was Yu~giri's mother. I was a mere boy when we were married
and she was one of the eminences in my life, someone I could not think
of dismissing. But things never went well. To the end she seemed very
remote. It was sad for her, but I cannot convince myself that the fault was
entirely mine. She was an earnest lady with no faults that one would have
wished to single out, but it might be said that she was the cold intellectual,
the sort you might turn to for advice and find yourself uncomfortable with.
"There was the Rokujo~ lady, Akikonomu's mother. I remember her
most of all for her extraordinary subtlety and cultivation, but she was a
difficult lady too, indeed almost impossible to be with. Even when her
anger seemed justified it lasted too long, and her jealousy was more than
a man could be asked to endure. The tensions went on with no relief, and
the reservations on both sides made easy companionship quite impossible.
I stood too much on my dignity, I suppose. I thought that if I gave in she
would gloat and exult. And so it ended. I could see how the gossip hurt
her and how she condemned herself for conduct which she thought un-
worthy of her position, and I could see that difficult though she might be
I was at fault myself. It is because I have so regretted what finally happened
that I have gone to such trouble for her daughter. I do not claim all the
credit, of course. It is obvious that she was meant all along for important
things. But I made enemies for myself because of what I did for her, and
I like to think that her mother, wherever she is, has forgiven me. I have
on the impulse of the moment done many things I have come to regret.
It was true long ago and it is true now." By fits and starts, he spoke of his
several ladies.
"There is the Akashi lady. I looked down upon her and thought her
no more than a plaything. But she has depths. She may seem docile and
uncomplicated, but there is a firm core underneath it all. She is not easily
slighted."
"I was not introduced to the other ladies and can say nothing about
them," replied Murasaki. "I cannot pretend to know very much about the
Akashi lady either, but I have had a glimpse of her from time to time, and
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would agree with you that she has very great pride and dignity. I often
wonder if she does not think me a bit of a simpleton. As for your daughter,
I should imagine that she forgives me my faults."
It was affection for the Akashi princess, thought Genji, that had made
such good friends of Murasaki and a lady she had once so resented. Yes,
she was splendid indeed.
"You may have your little blank spots," he said, "but on the whole
you manage things as the people and the circumstances demand. I have as
I have said known numbers of ladies and not one of them has been quite
like you. Not" --he smiled-- "that you always keep your feelings to your-
self."
In the evening he went off to the main hall. "I must commend the
princess for having carried out her instructions so faithfully."
Immersed in her music, she was as youthful as ever. It did not seem
to occur to her that anyone might be less than happy with her presence.
"Let me have a few days off," said Genji, "and you take a few off too.
You have quite satisfied your teacher. You worked hard and the results
were worthy of the effort. I have no doubts now about your qualifica-
tions." He pushed the koto aside and lay down.
As always when he was away, Murasaki had her women read stones
to her. In the old stories that were supposed to tell what went on in the
world, there were men with amorous ways and women who had affairs
with them, but it seemed to be the rule that in the end the man settled
down with one woman. Why should Murasaki herself live in such uncer-
tainty? No doubt, as Genji had said, she had been unusually fortunate. But
were the ache and the scarcely endurable sense of deprivation to be with
her to the end? She had much to think about and went to bed very late,
and towards daylight she was seized with violent chest pains. Her women
were immediately at her side. Should they call Genji? Quite out of the
question, she replied. Presently it was daylight. She was running a high
fever and still in very great pain. No one had gone for Genji. Then a
message came from the Akashi princess and she was informed of Murasa-
ki's illness, and in great trepidation sent word to Genji. He immediately
returned to Murasaki's wing of the house, to find her still in great pain.
"And what would seem to be the matter?" He felt her forehead. It was
flaming hot.
He was in tenor, remembering that only the day before he had warned
her of the dangerous year ahead. Breakfast was brought but he sent it back.
He was at her side all that day, seeing to her needs. She was unable to sit
up and refused even the smallest morsel of fruit.
The days went by. All manner of prayers and services were commis-
sioned. Priests were summoned to perform esoteric rites. Though the pain
was constant, it would at times be of a vague and generalized sort, and
then, almost unbearable, the chest pains would return. An endless list of
abstinences was drawn up by the soothsayers, but it did no good. Beside
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her all the while, Genji was in anguish, looking for the smallest hopeful
sign, the barely perceptible change that can brighten the prospects in even
the most serious illness. She occupied the whole of his attention. Prepara-
tions for the visit to the Suzaku emperor, who sent frequent and courteous
inquiries, had been put aside.
The Second Month was over and there was no improvement. Think-
ing that a change of air might help, Genji moved her to his Nijo~ mansion.
Anxious crowds gathered there and the confusion was enormous. The
Reizei emperor was much troubled and Yu~giri even more so. There were
others who were in very great disquiet. Were Murasaki to die, then Genji
would almost certainly follow through with his wish to retire from the
world. Yu~giri saw to the usual sort of prayers and rites, of course, and
extraordinary ones as well.
"Do you remember what I asked for?" Murasaki would say when she
was feeling a little more herself. "May I not have it even now?"
"I have longed for many years to do exactly that," Genji would reply,
thinking that to see her even briefly in nun's habit would be as painful as
to know that the final time had come. "I have been held back by the
thought of what it would mean to you if I were to insist on having my way.
Can you now think of deserting me?"
But it did indeed seem that the end might be near. There were re-
peated crises, each of which could have been the last. Genji no longer saw
the Third Princess. Music had lost all interest and koto and flute were put
away. Most of the Rokujo~ household moved to Nijo~. At Rokujo~, where
only women remained, it was as if the fires had gone out. One saw how
much of the old life had depended on a single lady.
The Akashi princess was at Genji's side.
"But whatever I have might take advantage of your condition," said
Murasaki, weak though she was. "Please go back immediately."
The princess's little children were with them, the prettiest children
imaginable. Murasaki looked at them and wept. "I doubt that I shall be
here to see you grow up. I suppose you will forget all about me?"
The princess too was weeping.
"You must not even think of it," said Genji. "Everything will be all
right if only we manage to think so. When we take the broad, easy view
we are happy. It may be the destiny of the meaner sort to rise to the top,
but the fretful and demanding ones do not stay there very long. It is the
calm ones who survive. I could give you any number of instances."
He described her virtues to all the native and foreign gods and told
them how very little she had to atone for. The venerable sages entrusted
with the grander services and the priests in immediate attendance as well,
including the ones on night duty, were sorry that they seemed to be
accomplishing so little. They turned to their endeavors with new vigor and
intensity. For five and six days there would be some improvement and then
she would be worse again, and so time passed. How would it all end? The
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malign force that had taken possession of her refused to come forth. She
was wasting away from one could not have said precisely what ailment,
and there was no relief from the worry and sorrow.
I have been neglecting Kashiwagi. Now a councillor of the middle
rank, he enjoyed the special confidence of the emperor and was one of the
more promising young officials of the day. But fame and honor had done
nothing to satisfy the old longing. He took for his bride the Second Prin-
cess, daughter of the Suzaku emperor by a low-ranking concubine. It must
be admitted that he thought her less than the very best he could have
found. She was an agreeable lady whose endowments were far above the
ordinary, but she was not capable of driving the Third Princess from his
thoughts. He did not, to be sure, treat her like one of the old women who
are cast out on mountainsides to die, but he was not as attentive as he
might have been.
The Kojiju~ to whom he went with the secret passion he was unable
to quell was a daughter of Jiju~, the Third Princess's nurse. Jiju~'s elder sister
was Kashiwagi's own nurse, and so he had long known a great deal about
the princess. He had known when she was still a child that she was very
pretty and that she was her father's favorite. It was from these early
beginnings that his love had grown.
Guessing that the Rokujo~ mansion would be almost deserted, he
called Kojiju~ and warmly pleaded his case. "My feelings could destroy me,
I fear. You are my tie with her and so I have asked you about her and hoped
that you might let her know something of my uncontrollable longing. You
have been my hope and you have done nothing. Someone was saying to
her royal father that Genji had many ladies to occupy his attention and
that one of them seemed to have monopolized it, and the Third Princess
was spending lonely nights and days of boredom. It would seem that her
father might have been having second thoughts. If his daughters had to
many commoners, he said, it would be nice if they were commoners who
had a little time for them. Someone told me that he might even think the
Second Princess the more fortunate of the two. She is the one who has long
years of comfort and security ahead of her. I cannot tell you how it all
upsets me." He sighed. "They are daughters of the same royal father, but
the one is the one and the other is the other."
"I think, sir, that you might be a little more aware of your place in
the world. You have one princess and you want another? Your greed seems
boundless."
He smiled. "Yes, I suppose so. But her father gave me some encour-
agement and so did her brother. Though it may be, as you say, that I am
are of my place in the world as I should be, I have let myself think
of her. Both of them found occasion to say that they did not consider me
so very objectionable. You are the one who is at fault--you should have
worked just a little harder."
"It was impossible. I have been told that there is such a thing as fate.
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It may have been fate which made Genji ask for her so earnestly and
ceremoniously. Do you really think His Majesty's affection for you such
that, had you made similar overtures, they would have prevailed over His
Lordship's? It is true that you have a little more dignity and prestige now
than you had then."
He did not propose to answer this somewhat intemperate outburst.
"Let us leave the past out of the matter. The present offers a rare oppor-
tunity. There are very few people around her and you can, if you will,
contrive to admit me to her presence and let me tell her just a little of what
has been on my mind. As for the possibility of my doing anything im-
proper--look at me, if you will, please. Do I seem capable of anything of
the sort?"
"This is preposterous, utterly preposterous. The very thought of it
terrifies me. Why did I even come?"
