join the competition for salvation which we see all around us you may be
sure that your detractors will put the wrong light upon your conduct. I do
hope that you can be persuaded to give up all thought of it."
She feared that he did not, after all, understand. And in what smokes
<P 675>
of hell would her poor mother be wandering? Genji had told no one that
the vengeful spirit of the Rokujo~ lady had paid yet another visit. People
will talk, however, and reports had presently reached Akikonomu, to make
the whole world seem harsh and inhospitable. She wanted to hear her
mother's exact words, or at least a part of them, but she could not bring
herself to ask.
"I have been told, though I have no very precise information, that my
mother died carrying a heavy burden of sin. Everything I know convinces
me that it is true, but I fear I have been feeling too sorry for myself to do
very much for her. I have been feeling very guilty and apologetic. I have
become more and more convinced that I must find a holy man and ask him
to be my guide in doing what should be done toward dispelling the smokes
and fires."
Genji was deeply moved. He quite understood her feelings. "Most of
us face those same fires, and yet a life as brief as the time of the morning
dew continues to make its demands on us. We are told that among the
disciples of the Blessed One there was a man who found immediate help
in this world for a mother suffering in another, but it is an achievement
which few of us can hope to imitate. Regrets would remain for the jeweled
tresses which you propose to cut. No, what you must do is strengthen
yourself in the faith and pray that the flames are extinguished. I have had
the same wishes, and still the days have gone purposelessly by, and the
quiet for which I long seems very far away. In the quiet I could add prayers
for her to prayers for myself, and these delays seem very foolish."
So they talked of a world which, for all its trials and uncertainties, is
not easy to leave.
<N 9>
What had begun as a casual visit had attracted the notice of the whole
court, and courtiers of the highest ranks were with Genji when he left in
the morning.
He had no worries for the Akashi princess, so responsive to all his
hopes and efforts, or for Yu~giri, who had attained to remarkable eminence
for his age. He thought rather more about the Reizei emperor than about
either of them. It was because he had wanted to be master of his own time
and to see more of Genji that the Reizei emperor had been so eager to
abdicate.
Akikonomu found it harder than ever to visit Rokujo~. She was now
beside her husband like any ordinary housewife. There were concerts and
other pleasures, and life was in many ways more interesting than before,
the serenity disturbed only by fears for her mother. She turned more and
more to her prayers, but had little hope that the Reizei emperor would let
her become a nun. Prayers for her mother made her more aware than ever
of the evanescence of things.
<W Murasaki Shikibu>{Translated by Edward G.Seidensticker}
<T The Tale of Genji>
<K 4>
<C 39>{Evening Mist}
<N 1>
<P 676>
Making full use of his name for probity and keeping to himself the fact
that he thought the Second Princess very interesting, Yu~giri let it seem to
the world that he was only being faithful to an old friendship. He paid
many a solemn visit, and came to feel more and more as the weeks and
months went by that the situation was a little ridiculous. The princess s
mother thought him the kindest of gentlemen. He provided the only relief
from the loneliness and monotony of her life. He had given no hint of
romantic intentions, and it would not do to proclaim himself a suitor. He
must go on being kind, and the time would come, perhaps, when the
princess would invite overtures. He took careful note, whenever an occa-
sion presented itself, of her manners and tastes.
He was still awaiting his chance when her mother, falling into the
clutches of an evil and very stubborn possession, moved to her villa at
Ono. A saintly priest who had long guided her devotions and who had won
renown as a healer had gone into seclusion on Mount Hiei and vowed
never to return to the city. He would, however, come down to the foot of
the mountain, and it was for that reason that she had moved to Ono. Yu~giri
provided the carriage and escort for the move. Kashiwagi's brothers were
too busy with their own affairs to pay much attention. Ko~bai, the oldest
of them, had taken an interest in the princess, but the bewilderment with
which she had greeted evidence that it might be more than brotherly had
made him feel unwelcome. Yu~giri had been cleverer, it would seem, keep-
ing his intentions to himself. When there were religious services he would
<P 677>
see to the vestments and offerings and all the other details. The old lady
was too ill to thank him.
The women insisted that, given his stern devotion to the proprieties,
he would not be pleased with a note from a secretary. The princess herself
must answer. And so she did presently get off an answer. The hand was
good, and the single line of poetry was quietly graceful. The rest of the
letter was gentle and amiable and convinced him more than ever that he
must see her. He wrote frequently thereafter. But Kumoinokari was suspi-
cious and raising difficulties, and it was by no means easy for him to visit
Ono.
<N 2>
The Eighth Month was almost over. At Ono the autumn hills would
be at their best.
"That priest of hers, what is his name," he said nonchalantly, "has
come down from the mountains. There is something I absolutely must talk
to him about, and it is a rare opportunity. He comes so seldom. And her
mother has not been at all well, and I have been neglecting her."
He had with him five or six favored guardsmen, all in travel dress.
Though the road led only through the nearer hills, the autumn colors were
good, especially at Matsugasaki, in gently rolling country.
The Ono villa had an air of refinement and good taste that would have
distinguished the proudest mansion in the city. The least conspicuous of
the wattled fences was done with a flair which showed that a temporary
dwelling need not be crude or common. A detached room at the east front
of what seemed to be the main building had been fitted out as a chapel.
The mother's room faced north and the princess had rooms to the west.
These evil spirits are greedy and promiscuous, the mother had said,
begging the princess to stay behind in the city. But the princess had
insisted upon coming. How could she bear to be so far from her mother?
She was forbidden access to the sickroom, however.
Since they were not prepared to receive guests, Yu~giri was shown to
a place at the princess's veranda, whence messages were taken to her
mother.
"You are very kind indeed to have come such a distance. You make
me feel that I must live on--how else can I thank you for the extraordinary
kindness?"
"I had hoped that I myself might be your escort, but my father had
things for me to do. My own trivial affairs have occupied me since, and
so I have neglected you. I should be very sorry indeed if at any time it
might have seemed to you that I did not care."
<N 3>
Behind her curtains, the princess listened in silence. He was aware of
her presence, for the blinds were flimsy and makeshift. An elegant rustling
of silk told him what part of the room to be interested in. He used the
considerable intervals between messages from the old lady to remonstrate
with Kosho~sho~ and the others.
<P 678>
"It has been some years now since I began visiting you and trying to
be of service. This seems like a very chilly reception after such a record.
I am kept outside and allowed only the diluted conversation that is possi-
ble through messengers. It is not the sort of thing my experience has
prepared me for. Though of course it may be my lack of experience that
is responsible. If I had been a trifling sort in my younger years I might
possibly have learned to avoid making myself look silly. There can be few
people my age who are so stupidly, awkwardly honest."
Yes, some of the women were whispering. He had every right to
complain, and he was not the sort of underling one treated so brusquely.
"It will be embarrassing, my lady, if you try to put him off. You will
seem obtuse and insensitive."
"I am very sorry indeed that she seems too ill to answer your kind
inquiry in the way that it deserves," the princess finally sent out. "I shall
try to answer for her. Whatever spirit it is that has taken possession of her,
it seems to be of an unusually baneful sort, and so I have come from the
city to be her nurse. I almost feel that I am no longer among the living
myself. I fear you will think this no answer at all."
"These are her own words?" he said, bringing himself to attention. "I
have felt, all through this sad illness, as if I myself were the victim. And
<P 679>
do you know why that has been? It may seem rude and impertinent of me
to say so, but until she has fully and happily recovered, the most important
thing to all of us is that you yourself remain healthy and in good spirits.
It is you I have been thinking of. If you have been telling yourself that my
only concern is for your mother, then you have failed to sense the depth
and complexity of my feelings."
True, perfectly true, said the women.
Soon it would be sunset. Mists were rising, and the mountain fast-
nesses seemed already to be receding into night. The air was heavy with
the songs of the evening cicadas. Wild carnations at the hedge and an array
of autumn flowers in near the veranda caught the evening light. The
murmur of waters was cool. A brisk wind came down from the mountain
with a sighing of deep pine forests. As bells announced that a new relay
of priests had come on duty, the solemnity of the services was redoubled,
new voices joined to the old. Every detail strengthened the spell that was
falling over him. He wanted to stay on and on. The voice of the priest who
had come down from the mountain was grander and more solemn than the
rest.
Someone came to inform them that the princess's mother was sud-
denly in great pain. Women rushed to her side, and so the princess, who
had brought few women with her in any event, was almost alone. She said
nothing. The time for an avowal seemed to have arrived.
A bank of mist came rolling up to the very eaves.
"What shall I do?" he said. "The road home is blocked off.
"An evening mist--how shall I find my way?--
Makes sadder yet a lonely mountain vi11age."
"The mists which enshroud this rustic mountain fence
Concern him only who is loathe to go."
He found these soft words somewhat encouraging and was inclined
to forget the lateness of the hour.
"What a foolish predicament. I cannot see my way back, and you will
not permit me to wait out the mists here at Ono. Only a very $$ naive man
would have permitted it to happen."
Thus he hinted at feelings too strong to control. She had pretended
to be unaware of them and was greatly discommoded to have them stated
so clearly. Though of course he was not happy with her silence, he was
determined to seize the opportunity. Let her think him frivolous and rude.
She must be informed of the feelings he had kept to himself for so long.
He quietly summoned one of his attendants, a junior guards officer who
had not long before received the cap of the Fifth Rank.
"I absolutely must speak to His Reverence, the one who has come
<P 680>
down from the mountain. He has been wearing himself out praying for
her, and I imagine he will soon be taking a rest. The best thing would be
to stay the night and try to see him when the evening services are over."
He gave instructions that the guard go to his Kurusuno villa, not far
away, and see to feeding the horses.
"I don't want a lot of noise. It will do no good to have people know
we are here."
Sensing hidden meanings, the man bowed and withdrew.
<N 4>
"I would doubtless lose my way if I tried to go home," Yu~giri con-
tinued unconcernedly. "Perhaps there are rooms for me somewhere here-
abouts? This one here by your curtains--may I ask you to let me have the
use of it? I must see His Reverence. He should be finishing his prayers very
shortly."
She was most upset. This insistent playfulness was not like him. She
did not want to offend him, however, by withdrawing pointedly to the
sickroom. He continued his efforts to coax her from her silence, and when
a woman went in with a message he followed after.
It was still daylight, but the mists were heavy and the inner rooms
were dark. The woman was horrified at having thus become his guide. The
princess, sensing danger, sought to make her escape through the north
door, to which, with sure instinct, he made his way. She had gone on into
the next room, but her skirts trailed behind, making it impossible for her
to bar the door. Drenched in perspiration, she sat trembling in the half-
open door. Her women could not think what to do. It would not have been
impossible to bar the door from the near side, but that would have meant
dragging him away by main force, and one did not lay hands upon such
a man.
h "Sir, sir. We would not have dreamed that you could even think of
such a thing."
"Is it so dreadful that I am here beside her? I may not be the most
desirable man in the world--indeed I am as aware as anyone that I am far
from it." He spoke slowly and with quiet emphasis. "But after all this time
she can scarcely call me a stranger."
