long as he could." You can apologize later. You must be my guide. And
we will need another one too."
Bennokimi got into the carriage with Jiju~. The nurse and the girl who
had been Bennokimi's companion were left behind in a daze.
They would not be going far, thought Bennokimi; but in fact they
<P 968>
were taken to Uji. Kaoru had arranged for a change of oxen. It was day-
break when they crossed the Kamo River and passed the Ho~sho~ji Tem-
ple. Jiju~ could now see his face, albeit dimly, and it so excited her that
she was gaping openly. Ukifune sat with bowed head, too stunned to look
about her. The rocky stretches might be difficult, he said, and took her in
his arms. A thin curtain hung between the two of them and the women
behind. Bennokimi wished that he had had the consideration not to drag
her out in broad daylight. And how it would have pleased her, she sighed,
to have seen her lady going off with him thus. One was witness to strange,
sad happenings when one lived too long. Try though she might to control
herself, her face was presently contorted with grief. What a silly old
woman, thought Jiju~. A nun was not in any case the sort of chaperone a
person wanted on such a happy excursion, and why did she have to add
nasty tears to her own nasty presence? Well, old people cried a great deal,
and that was that.
Kaoru had not been disappointed in the girl, but something about the
sky and the day brought back all of his longing for Oigimi. As they entered
the mountains he too found his eyes clouding over. He sat leaning against
an armrest, deep in memories. He noticed, as a wheel of the carriage pulled
out of a rut, that his sleeves were hanging far beneath the blind, and, in
the river mist, the red of a singlet and the blue of the robe over it had come
together. A poem formed in his mind:
"I think to find her equal, and my sleeves
Are deep in tears as the land in morning mist."
The nun heard him, and would have liked to wring her own sleeves
dry. All very odd, and not very pretty, thought Jiju~. Such a jolly outing
--and these people seemed determined to spoil the fun. The nun's sobs
were coaxing sniffles from Kaoru.
But he had to think of the girl beside him. "It is just that memories
come back of all the times I have been over this road. Do look at the colors
in the hills. You have not said a word to me."
He forced her to look up. Her face shyly hidden by a fan, she was
remarkably like Oigimi. But there was something too docile and passive
about her. It made him uneasy. Oigimi had been similarly fragile and
childlike, but she had also been of a solemn, meditative turn. His longing
seemed to fill the very skies.
They had arrived at Uji. And would Oigimi even now call it home?
Here he was, lost in aimless wandering--and because of whom? He left
Ukifune for a time, that he might be with the other.
<P 969>
Ukifune was as upset for her mother as for herself, but she had the
memory of his soft words to console her. Bennokimi had insisted on being
let out near her own rooms, though such reticence hardly seemed called
for. Farmers came from his manor, as usual, in noisy troops. Bennokimi
brought lunch. The road had been heavily overgrown, and here the pros-
pect was bright and open. The house had been planned to take advantage
of the river and the colors in the hills. Ukifune felt the gloom of the recent
days leave her. Yet great uncertainty remained. What plans would he have
for her?
He sent off notes to his mother and his wife in the city. "I had had
decorations commissioned for the chapel. Today being a lucky day, I
rushed off to inspect them. I am not feeling well and have just remembered
that I should be in retreat. So I shall stay on through today and tomorrow."
Ukifune found him even handsomer in casual dress. She still felt shy
before him, but no longer thought it necessary to hide her face. Though
great attention had gone into her clothes, they still had a certain rustic
plainness about them. He remembered how elegant Oigimi had managed
to look even in old clothes, and had to conclude that Ukifune was not quite
<P 970>
her equal. She did have beautiful hair, however, thick and smooth to the
very ends. The Second Princess had unusually fine hair, but this was
perhaps even lovelier.
And what now? There would be talk if they received her openly at
Sanjo~. Yet something more than ordinary treatment was surely called for.
He would leave her at Uji for a time. Knowing how lonely she would be,
he talked affectionately with her until evening. He spoke in fascinating
detail of her father and of events long ago, and he essayed an occasional
pleasantry. Her shyness seemed excessive, but it offered possibilities of its
own. There was hope for such a girl, even if an occasional mistake was
made in her training. He would be her teacher. Had she been the loud,
garrulous sort of provincial, he would have had to give up all thought of
making her a substitute for Oigimi.
He had kotos brought out. She would be less adept at music, he feared,
than at the other polite accomplishments. Sadness for the past flooded over
him as he began to play. He had not touched a koto in the Uji house since
the prince's death, he did not himself know why. He played on, sunk in
thought, and the moon came out. There had been nothing insistent about
the prince's koto, but it had, in its quiet way, had a strange power to move.
"If you had grown up here I think you might have had a rather
different feeling for things. We were no kin to each other, but the prince
had a strong hold on my affections. It is a pity that you spent so many years
so far away."
She was toying shyly with a fan. Her profile was an unblemished
white, and her forehead, between the rich strands of hair, brought memo-
ries of her sister. He must give her music lessons and otherwise make her
a lady for whom he need not apologize.
"Have you had a try at the koto? Perhaps you have had lessons on
the East Country koto?"
"I do not even speak the language of the capital. Should you expect
me to play a capital koto?"
She was clever. He was already sad at the thought of having her at
Uji and seeing her only rarely. It was not often that he felt such regrets.
"The voice of'the koto in the night, on the terrace of the king of
Ch'u,'" he whispered to himself.
<P 971>
Daughter of a region where one heard only the twang of the bow, Jiju~
was entranced. It was the mark of her want of culture that her delight
should be so unconditional, and take no account of such matters as the
proper color of a fan, and what it told of a noble lady's boudoir. But why,
he was asking himself, had he chosen that particular poem from all the
poems he knew?
Refreshments were brought from the nun's rooms. Sprigs of ivy and
maple had been laid out tastefully on the lid of the box, and on the paper
beneath (one may imagine that he was hungry) he caught a glimpse, in the
bright moonlight, of a poem in a shaky old hand:
"Autumn has come, the leaves of the ivy change;
And bright as of old, the moon of memories."
The hand was an old-fashioned one, but it made him feel somehow
inadequate. He softly intoned a poem of his own, though not as if by way
of answer:
"The village still calls itself Uji, and here in my rooms
The moon streams in upon another face."
It would seem that Jiju~ took the poem to the nun.
<W Murasaki Shikibu>{Translated by Edward G.Seidensticker}
<T The Tale of Genji>
<K 6>
<C 51>{A Boat upon the Waters}
<N 1>
<P 972>
Niou had not for a moment forgotten the dim evening light in which he
had seen the girl. She would not appear to have been of the highest rank,
and yet her clean grace left him deeply dissatisfied (for he was very suscep-
tible) that he had not had his way. He managed to work up considerable
resentment at Nakanokimi.
"I would not have expected it of you," he said, so frequently that she
began to wonder whether she ought not to tell him the whole story.
But no. The girl had attracted the notice of someone who--though he
did not, it seemed, mean to make her his principal wife--was so taken with
her that he had hidden her away. It was not for Nakanokimi to reveal
secrets. Besides, Niou could not be expected to sit idly by once he had
learned the truth. Let him embark upon some fleeting dalliance with one
of the women around him, and temptation would promptly lead him off
to places where a prince ought not to go. The case of the girl who had been
so on his mind over the days and weeks was almost certain to be trou-
blesome. Nakanokimi could do nothing, of course, if he were to learn the
facts from someone else. It would be sad for both Kaoru and Ukifune, but
he would not be held back by the most persuasive arguments.<N 2> And the
effect upon Nakanokimi herself would be far more painful than the effect
of all his other intrigues combined. Well, she would in any case make sure
that she herself was guilty of no carelessness. This sulking was not easy
to live with, but she would say nothing. Incapable of clever fabrication,
<P 973>
she kept her peace and let him think her just another jealous woman.
Kaoru's self-control, meanwhile, approached the unbelievable. The
girl would be expecting him, he knew, but a man in his position had to
have good excuses for such a journey. The road was more forbidding than
if it had been proscribed by the gods. He would in the end do his duty
by her. She would be his companion in that mountain village. He would
invent some pretext for spending a few quiet days with her, but for the
time being she must remain out of sight. When she was somewhat more
settled and composed, he would arrange an acceptable sort of liaison, one
that would not damage his good name. He did not want people to be asking
what this sudden development meant, and who the girl might be, and
when it had all begun; his aim in visiting Uji was certainly not to attract
attention. And on the other hand he would not wish Nakanokimi to think
that he had turned his back on a place so rich in memories and left the past
behind. With his usual care and deliberation, he turned the arguments over
in his mind.
<N 3>
Not that he was wholly inactive: he had commenced work on the
house to which he would presently bring the girl. He was a busy man, but
he continued to visit Nakanokimi regularly. Though some of her women
thought it all rather odd, Nakanokimi herself, more familiar now with the
ways of the world, was much moved. Here was a man who did not forget,
whose affections did not wear thin with the passage of time. The years
seemed to improve him, even as the hopes the world had for him rose.
Seeing, by contrast, how deplorably capricious and unreliable her husband
was, she could only sigh at the strange, sad fate that seemed to be hers.
Oigimi's plans for her had come to nothing, and she had found herself
married to a man whose chief contribution to her life was gloomy forebod-
ing.
Yet it was difficult to receive Kaoru with the warmth she really felt.
The Uji years were receding into the distance. People of the lower classes
might presume upon such a relationship, muttered some of her women,
unfamiliar with happenings at Uji, but it certainly was most irregular for
grandchildren of emperors. In the natural course of events, then, she began
to seem more distant, even though her feelings for him were as they had
always been. Niou might upset her from time to time with his erratic ways,
but the little prince was growing up, more of a delight each day. Thinking
it unlikely that another lady would favor him with so pretty a child, he
lavished great affection upon her, affection, indeed, such as the lady at
Rokujo~ did not enjoy. In spite of everything, Nakanokimi was feeling more
sure of herself.
<N 4>
At about noon one day early in the New Year, when Niou was playing
with the child, now in its second year, a little girl came bounding in and
<P 974>
handed the princess a rather fat letter in a fine, cream-colored envelope.
With it were a small "whiskered basket" attached to an artificial seedling
pine, and a second letter, more formally folded.
"And where might they be from?" asked Niou.
"The man said from Uji, for Madame Tayu~. I didn't know what to do
with them, and I thought my lady might like to see them. She always
does." The girl was confused. "Just look at this basket, will you. Metal, and
it's colored all over. And look at this pine. Look at the branches. You might
think it was real."
She smiled, and Niou smiled back. "Yes, do let me have a look at it."
"Take them to Tayu~ immediately." Nakanokimi flushed. She did not
want him to read the letters.
Would they be from Kaoru? They did look like women's letters, but
he could easily have disguised them, and Uji would have been an apt
choice for their source. He took one of them up. But he too was confused.
He hoped that his suspicions would not prove correct.
"I'm going to open it. Will you be angry with me?"
"It's not good manners to look at private notes between women."
Nakanokimi managed to seem unconcerned.
"You really must let me see them. What might it be like, I wonder,
a letter from one woman to another?"
"I have been very remiss about writing, and here we are, going into
the New Year. Our gloomy mountains offer no break in the winter mists."
The hand was that of a very young woman." These are cheap trinkets, but
give them to the little prince, if you will."
There was nothing remarkable about the letter. But he was curious to
