under a pleasantly misted moon to the Sanjo~ mansion. Having no outrun-
ners, they were able to pull in at a secluded gallery without attracting
attention. There they sent for court dress. Taking up their flutes again, they
proceeded to the main hall as if they had just come from court. The
minister, eager as always for a concert, joined in with a Korean flute. He
was a fine musician, and soon the more accomplished of the ladies within
the blinds had joined them on lutes. There was a most accomplished lady
named Nakatsukasa. To~ no Chu~jo~ had designs upon her, but she had
turned him away. Genji, who so rarely came to the house, had quite won
her affections. News of the infatuation had reached the ears of princess
Omiya, To~ no Chu~jo~'s mother, who strongly disapproved of it. Poor Naka-
<P 117>
tsukasa was thus left with her own sad thoughts, and tonight she sat
forlornly apart from the others, leaning on an armrest. She had considered
seeking a position elsewhere, but she was reluctant to take a step that
would prevent her from seeing Genji again.
The two young men were both thinking of that koto earlier in the
evening, and of that strange, sad house. To~ no Chu~jo~ was lost in a most
unlikely reverie: suppose some very charming lady lived there and, with
patience, he were to make her his, and to find her charming and sad beyond
description--he would no doubt be swept away by very confused emo-
tions. Genji's new adventure was certain to come to something.
<N 6>
Both seem to have written to the Hitachi princess. There were no
answers. To~ no Chu~jo~ thought this silence deplorable and incomprehensi-
ble. What a man wanted was a woman who though impoverished had a
keen and ready sensibility and let him guess her feelings by little notes and
poems as the clouds passed and the grasses and blossoms came and went.
The princess had been reared in seclusion, to be sure, but such extreme
reticence was simply in bad taste. Of the two he was the more upset.
A candid and open sort, he said to Genji: "Have you had any answers
from the Hitachi lady? I let a drop a hint or two myself, and I have not
had a word in reply."
So it had happened. Genji smiled. "I have had none myself, perhaps
because I have done nothing to deserve any."
It was an ambiguous answer which left his friend more restless than
ever. He feared that the princess was playing favorites.
Genji was not in fact very interested in her, though he too found her
silence annoying. He persisted in his efforts all the same. To~ no Chu~jo~ was
an eloquent and persuasive young man, and Genji would not want to be
rejected when he himself had made the first advances. He summoned Tayu~
for solemn
"It bothers me a great deal that she should be so unresponsive. Per-
haps she judges me to be among the frivolous and inconstant ones. She is
wrong. My feelings are unshakable. It is true that when a lady makes it
known that she does not trust me I sometimes go a little astray. A lady who
does trust me and who does not have a meddling family, a lady with whom
I can be really comfortable, is the sort I find most pleasant."
"I fear, sir, that she is not your 'tree in the rain.' She is not, I fear,
what you are looking for. You do not often these days find such reserve.
And she told him a little more about the princess.
<P 118>
"From what you say, she Would not appear to be a lady with a very
sand manner or very grand accomplishments. But the quiet, $F$ naive ones
have a charm of their own." He was thinking of "the evening face."
He had come down with malaria, and it was for him a time of secret
longing; and so spring and summer passed.
<N 7>
Sunk in quiet thoughts as autumn came on, he even thought fondly
of those fullers' blocks and of the foot pestle that had so disturbed his
sleep. He sent frequent notes to the Hitachi princess, but there were still
no answers. In his annoyance he almost felt that his honor was at stake.
He must not be outdone.
He protested to Tayu~. "What can this mean? I have never known
anything like it."
She was sympathetic. "But you are not to hold me responsible, sir. I
have not said anything to turn her against you. She is impossibly shy, and
I can do nothing with her."
"Outrageously shy--that is what I am saying. When a lady has not
reached the age of discretion or when she is not in a position to make
decisions for herself, such shyness is not unreasonable. I am bored and
lonely for no very good reason, and if she were to let me know that she
shared my melancholy I would feel that I had not approached her in vain.
If I might stand on that rather precarious veranda of hers, quite without
a wish to go further, I would be satisfied. You must try to understand my
feelings, though they may seem very odd to you, and take me to her even
without her permission. I promise to do nothing that will upset either of
you."
He seemed to take no great interest generally in the rumors he col-
lected, thought Tayu~, and yet he seemed to be taking very great interest
indeed in at least one of them. She had first mentioned the Hitachi princess
only to keep the conversation from lagging.
These repeated queries, so earnest and purposeful, had become a little
tiresome. The lady was of no very great charm or talent, and did not seem
right for him. If she, Tayu~, were to give in and become his intermediary,
she might be an agent of great unhappiness for the poor lady, and if she
refused she would seem unfeeling.
The house had been forgotten by the world even before Prince Hitachi
died. Now there was no one at all to part the undergrowth. And suddenly
light had come filtering in from a quite unexpected source, to delight the
princess's lowborn women. She must definitely answer him, they said. But
she was so maddeningly shy that she refused even to look at his notes.
Tayu~ made up her mind. She would find a suitable occasion to bring
Genji to the princess's curtains, and if he did not care for her, that would
be that. If by chance they were to strike up a brief friendship, no one could
possibly reprove Tayu~ herself. She was a rather impulsive and headstrong
young woman, and she does not seem to have told even her father.
<N 8>
<P 119>
It was an evening toward the end of the Eighth Month when the moon
was late in rising. The stars were bright and the wind sighed through the
pine trees. The princess was talking sadly of old times. Tayu~ had judged
the occasion a likely one and Genji had come in the usual secrecy. The
princess gazed uneasily at the decaying fence as the moon came up. Tayu~
persuaded her to play a soft strain on her koto, which was not at all
displeasing. If only she could make the princess over even a little more into
the hospitable modern sort, thought Tayu~, herself so willing in these
matters. There was no one to challenge Genji as he made his way inside.
He summoned Tayu~.
"A fine thing," said Tayu~, feigning great surprise. "Genji has come.
He is always complaining about what a bad correspondent you are, and
I have had to say that there is little I can do. And so he said that he would
come himself and give you a lesson in manners. And how am I to answer
him now? These expeditions are not easy for him and it would be cruel
to send him away. Suppose you speak to him--through your curtains, of
course."
The princess stammered that she would not know what to say and
withdrew to an inner room. Tayu~ thought her childish.
"You are very inexperienced, my lady," she said with a smile. "It is
all right for people in your august position to make a show of innocence
when they have parents and relatives to look after them, but your rather
sad circumstances make this reserve seem somehow out of place."
The princess was not, after all, one to resist very stoutly. "If I need
not speak to him but only listen, and if you will lower the shutters, I shall
receive him."
"And leave him out on the veranda? That would not do at all. He is
not a man, I assure you, to do anything improper." Tayu~ spoke with great
firmness. She barred the doors, having put out a cushion for Genji in the
next room.
The lady was very shy indeed. Not having the faintest notion how to
address such a fine gentleman, she put herself in Tayu~'s hands. She sighed
and told herself that Tayu~ must have her reasons.
Her old nurse had gone off to have a nap. The two or three young
women who were still with the princess were in a fever to see this gentle-
man of whom the whole world was talking. Since the princess did not seem
prepared to do anything for herself, Tayu~ changed her into presentable
clothes and otherwise got her ready. Genji had dressed himself carefully
though modestly and presented a very handsome figure indeed. How she
would have liked to show him to someone capable of appreciating him,
thought Tayu~. Here his charms were wasted. But there was one thing she
need not fear: an appearance of forwardness or impertinence on the part
of the princess. Yet she was troubled, for she did fear that even as she was
acquitted of the delinquency with which Genji was always charging her,
she might be doing injury to the princess.
<P 120>
Genji was certain that he need not fear being dazzled--indeed the
certainty was what had drawn him to her. He caught a faint, pleasing scent,
and a soft rustling as her women urged her forward. They suggested
serenity and repose such as to convince him that his attentions were not
misplaced. Most eloquently, he told her how much she had been in his
thoughts over the months. The muteness seemed if anything more unset-
tling from near at hand than from afar.
"Countless times your silence has silenced me.
My hope is that you hope for something better.
"Why do you not tell me clearly that you dislike me?'Uncertainty
weaves a sadly tangled web.'"
Her nurse's daughter, a clever young woman, finding the silence un-
bearable, came to the princess's side and offered a reply:
"I cannot ring a bell enjoining silence.
Silence, strangely, is my only answer."
The young voice had a touch of something like garrulity in it. Una-
ware that it was not the princess's, Genji thought it oddly unrestrained
and, given her rank, even somewhat coquettish.
"I am quite speechless myself.
"Silence, I know, is finer by far than words.
Its sister, dumbness, at times is rather painful."
He talked on, now joking and now earnestly entreating, but there was
no further response. It was all very strange--her mind did not seem to
work as others did. Finally losing patience, he slid the door open. Tayu~
was aghast--he had assured her that he would behave himself. Though
concerned for the poor princess, she slipped off to her own room as if
nothing had happened. The princess's young women were less disturbed.
Such misdemeanors were easy to forgive when the culprit was so uniquely
handsome. Their reproaches were not very loud, though they could see
that their lady was in a state of shock, so swiftly had it happened. She was
incapable now of anything but dazed silence. It was strange and wonder-
ful, thought Genji, that the world still contained such a lady. A measure
of eccentricity could be excused in a lady who had lived so sheltered a life.
He was both puzzled and sympathetic.
But how, given her limited resources, was the lady to win his affec-
tion? It was with much disappointment that he departed late in the night.
Though Tayu~ had been listening carefully, she pretended that she did not
<P 121>
know of his departure and did not come out to see him off. He would have
had nothing to say to her.
<N 9>
Back at Nijo~ he lay down to rest, with many a sigh that the world
failed to present him with his ideal lady. And it would not be easy to treat
the princess as if nothing had happened, for she was after all a princess.
To~ no Chu~jo~ interrupted unhappy thoughts. "What an uncommonly
late sleeper you are. There must be reasons."
"I was allowing myself a good rest in my lonely bed. Have you come
from the palace?"
"I just left. I was told last night that the musicians and dancers for His
Majesty's outing had to be decided on today and was on my way to report
to my father. I will be going straight back." He seemed in a great hurry.
"Suppose I go with you."
Breakfast was brought in. Though there were two carriages, they
chose to ride together. Genji still seemed very sleepy, said his friend, and
very secretive too. With many details of the royal outing still to be ar-
ranged, Genji was at the palace through the day.
He felt somewhat guilty about not getting off a note to the princess,
but it was evening when he dispatched his messenger. Though it had
begun to rain, he apparently had little inclination to seek again that shelter
from the rain. Tayu~ felt very sorry for the princess as the conventional
hour for a note came and went. Though embarrassed, the princess was not
one to complain. Evening came, and still there was only silence.
This is what his messenger finally brought:
"The gloomy evening mists have not yet cleared,
And now comes rain, to bring still darker gloom.
"You may imagine my restlessness, waiting for the skies to clear."
Though surprised at this indication that he did not intend to visit, her
women pressed her to answer. More and more confused, however, she was
not capable of putting together the most ordinary note. Agreeing with her
nurse's daughter that it was growing very late, she finally sent this:
"My village awaits the moon on a cloudy night.
