day services were over. Then they went their several ways. It was the
twentieth of the Twelfth Month, and skies which would in any case have
seemed to mark the end of things were for Fujitsubo without a ray of
sunlight. She was quite aware of Kokiden's feelings and knew that a world
at the service of the other lady would be difficult to live in. But her
thoughts were less of the future than of the past. Memories of her years
with the old emperor never left her. His palace was no longer a home for
his ladies, however, and presently all were gone.
Fujitsubo returned to her family palace in Sanjo~. Her brother, Prince
Hyo~bu, came for her. There were flurries of snow, driven by a sharp wind.
The old emperor's palace was almost deserted. Genji came to see them off
and they talked of old times. The branches of the pine in the garden were
brown and weighed down by snow.
The prince's poem was not an especially good one, but it-suited the
occasion and brought tears to Genji's eyes:
"Withered the pine whose branches gave us shelter?
Now at the end of the year its needles fall."
The pond was frozen over. Genji's poem was impromptu and not,
perhaps, among his best:
"Clear as a mirror, these frozen winter waters.
The figure they once reflected is no more."
This was Omyo~bu's poem:
"At the end of the year the springs are silenced by ice.
And gone are they whom we saw among the rocks."
There were other poems, but I see no point in setting them down.
The procession was as grand as in other years. Perhaps it was only in
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the imagination that there was something forlorn and dejected about it.
Fujitsubo's own Sanjo~ palace now seemed like a wayside inn. Her thoughts
were on the years she had spent away from it.
The New Year came, bringing no renewal. Life was sad and subdued.
Sadder than all the others, Genji was in seclusion. During his father's reign,
of course, and no less during the years since, the New Year apPointments
had brought such streams of horses and carriages to his gates that there
had been room for no more. Now they were deserted. Only a few listless
guards and secretaries occupied the offices. His favorite retainers did come
calling, but it was as if they had time on their hands. So, he thought, life
was to be.
In the Second Month, Kokiden's sister Oborozukiyo, she of the misty
moon, was appointed wardress of the ladies' apartments, replacing a lady
who in grief at the old emperor's death had become a nun. The new
wardress was amiable and cultivated, and the emperor was very fond of
her.
Kokiden now spent most of her time with her own family. When she
was at court she occupied the Plum Pavilion. She had turned her old
Kokiden Pavilion over to Oborozukiyo, who found it a happy change from
her rather gloomy and secluded rooms to the north. Indeed it quite
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swarmed with ladies-in-waiting. Yet she coul snot forget that strange
encounter with Genji, and it was on her initiative that they still kept up
a secret correspondence. He was very nervous about it, but excited (for
such was his nature) by the challenge which her new position seemed to
offer.
Kokiden had bided her time while the old emperor lived, but she was
a willful, headstrong woman, and now it seemed that she meant to have
her revenge. Genji's life became a series of defeats and annoyances. He was
not surprised, and yet, accustomed to being the darling of the court, he
found the new chilliness painful and preferred to stay at home. The Minis-
ter of the Left, his father-in-law, was also unhappy with the new reign and
seldom went to court. Kokiden remembered all too well how he had
refused his daughter to the then crown prince and offered her to Genji
instead. The two ministers had never been on good terms. The Minister
of the Left had had his way while the old emperor lived, and he was of
course unhappy now that the Minister of the Right was in control. Genji
still visited Sanjo~ and was more civil and attentive than ever to the women
there, and more attentive to the details of his son's education. He went far
beyond the call of ordinary duty and courtesy, thought the minister, to
whom he was as important as ever. His father's favorite son, he had had
little time to himself while his father lived; but it was now that he began
neglecting ladies with whom he had been friendly. These flirtations no
longer interested him. He was soberer and quieter, altogether a model
young man.
The good fortune of the new lady at Nijo~ was by now
at court. Her nurse and others of her women attributed it to
of the old nun, her grandmother. Her father now correspond
as he wished. He had had high hopes for his daughters by his principal
wife, and they were not doing well, to the considerable chagrin and envy,
it seems, of the wife. It was a situation made to order for the romancers.
In mourning for her father, the old emperor, the high priestess of
Kamo resigned and Princess Asagao took her place. It was not usual for the
granddaughter rather than the daughter of an emperor to hold the position,
but it would seem that there were no completely suitable candidates for
the position. The princess had continued over the years to interest Genji,
who now regretted that she should be leaving his world. He still saw
Chu~jo~, her woman, and he still wrote to the princess. Not letting his
changed circumstances worry him unnecessarily, he sought to beguile the
tedium by sending off notes here and there.
The emperor would have liked to follow his father's last injunctions
and look to Genji for support, but he was young and docile and unable to
impose his will. His mother and grandfather had their way, and it was not
at all to his liking.
For Genji one distasteful incident followed another. Oborozukiyo
relieved the gloom by letting him know that she was still fond of him.
Though fraught with danger, a meeting was not difficult to arrange. Hom-
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age to the Five Lords was to begin and the emperor would be in retreat.
Genji paid his visit, which was like a dream. Chu~nagon contrived to admit
him to the gallery of the earlier meeting. There were many people about
and the fact that he was nearer the veranda than usual was unfortunate.
Since women who saw him morning and night never tired of him, how
could it be an ordinary meeting for one who had seen so little of him?
Oborozukiyo was at her youthful best. It may be that she was not as calm
and dignified as she might have been, but her young charms were enough
to please him all the same.
It was near dawn. Almost at Genji's elbow a guardsman announced
himself in loud, vibrant tones. Another guardsman had apparently slipped
in with one of the ladies hereabouts and this one had been dispatched to
surprise him. Genji was both amused and annoyed. "The first hour of the
tiger!" There were calls here and there as guardsmen flushed out intrud-
ers.
The lady was sad, and more beautiful for the sadness, as she recited
a poem:
"They say that it is dawn, that you grow weary.
I weep, my sorrows wrought by myself alone."
He answered:
"You tell me that these sorrows must not cease?
My sorrows, my love will neither have an ending."
He made his stealthy way out. The moon was cold in the faint begin-
nings of dawn, softened by delicate tracings of mist. Though in rough
disguise, he was far too handsome not to attract attention. A guards officer,
brother of Lady Sho~kyo~den, had emerged from the Wisteria Court and
was standing in the shadow of a latticed fence. If Genji failed to notice him,
it was unfortunate.
Always when he had been with another lady he would think of the
lady who was so cold to him. Though her aloofness was in its way admira-
ble, he could not help resenting it. Visits to court being painful, Fujitsubo
had to worry from afar about her son the crown prince. Though she had
no one to turn to except Genji, whom she depended on for everything, she
was tormented by evidence that his unwelcome affections were un-
changed. Even the thought that the old emperor had died without suspect-
ing the truth filled her with terror, which was intensified by the thought
that if rumors were to get abroad, the results, quite aside from what they
might mean for Fujitsubo herself, would be very unhappy for the crown
prince. She even commissioned religious services in hopes of freeing her-
self from Genji's attentions and she exhausted every device to avoid him.
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She was appalled, then, when one day he found a way to approach her.
He had made his plans carefully and no one in her household was aware
of them. The result was for her an unrelieved nightmare.
The words with which he sought to comfort her were so subtle and
clever that I am unable to transcribe them, but she was unmoved. After
a time she was seized with sharp chest pains. Omyo~bu and Ben hurried
to her side. Genji was reeling from the grim determination with which she
had repulsed him. Everything, past and future, seemed to fall away into
darkness. Scarcely aware of what he was doing, he stayed on in her apart-
ments even though day was breaking. Several other women, alerted to the
crisis, were now up and about. Omyo~bu and Ben bundled a half-conscious
Genji into a closet. They were beside themselves as they pushed his clothes
in after him. Fujitsubo was now taken with fainting spells. Prince Hyo~bu
and her chamberlain were sent for. A dazed Genji listened to the excite-
ment from his closet.
Towards evening Fujitsubo began to feel rather more herself again.
She had not the smallest suspicion that Genji was still in the house, her
women having thought it best to keep the information from her. She came
out to her sitting room. Much relieved, Prince Hyo~bu departed. The room
was almost empty. There were not many women whom she liked to have
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in her immediate presence and the others kept out of sight. Omyo~bu and
Ben were wondering how they might contrive to spirit Genji away. He
must not be allowed to bring on another attack.
The closet door being open a few inches, he slipped out and made his
way between a screen and the wall. He looked with wonder at the lady
and tears came to his eyes. Still in some pain, she was gazing out at the
garden. Might it be the end? she was asking herself. Her profile was lovely
beyond description. The women sought to tempt her with sweets, which
were indeed most temptingly laid out on the lid of a decorative box, but
she did not look at them. To Genji she was a complete delight as she sat
in silence, lost in deeply troubled meditations. Her hair as it cascaded over
her shoulders, the lines of her head and face, the glow of her skin, were
to Genji irresistibly beautiful. They were very much like each other, she
and Murasaki. Memories had dimmed over the years, but now the aston-
ishing resemblance did a little to dispel his gloom. The dignity that quite
put one to shame also reminded him of Murasaki. He could hardly think
of them as two persons, and yet, perhaps because Fujitsubo had been so
much in his thoughts over the years, there did after all seem to be a
difference. Fujitsubo's was the calmer and more mature dignity. No longer
in control of himself, he slipped inside her curtains and pulled at her sleeve.
So distinctive was the fragrance that she recognized him immediately. In
sheer tenor she sank to the floor.
If she would only look at him! He pulled her towards him. She turned
to flee, but her hair became entangled in her cloak as she tried to slip out
of it. It seemed to be her fate that everything should go against her!
Deliriously, Genji poured forth all the resentment he had kept to
himself; but it only revolted her.
"I am not feeling well. Perhaps on another occasion I will be better
able to receive you."
Yet he talked on. Mixed in with the flow were details which did, after
all, seem to move her. This was not of course their first meeting, but she
had been determined that there would not be another. Though avoiding
explicit rejoinder, she held him off until morning. He could not force
himself upon her. In her quiet dignity, she left him feeling very much
ashamed of himself.
"If I may see you from time to time and so drive away a little of the
gloom, I promise you that I shall do nothing to offend you."
The most ordinary things have a way of moving people who are as
they were to each other, and this was no ordinary meeting. It was daylight.
Omyo~bu and Ben were insistent and Fujitsubo seemed barely conscious.
" I think I must die, " he said in a final burst of passion." I cannot bear
the thought of having you know that I still exist. And if I die my love for
you will be an obstacle on my way to salvation.
"If other days must be as this has been,
I still shall be weeping two and three lives hence.
<P 198>
And the sin will be yours as well."
She sighed.
"Remember that the cause is in yourself
Of a sin which you say I must bear through lives to come."
She managed an appearance of resignation which tore at his heart. It
was no good trying her patience further. Half distraught, he departed. He
would only invite another defeat if he tried to see her again. She must be
made to feel sorry for him. He would not even write to her. He remained
shut up at Nijo~, seeing neither the emperor nor the crown prince, his gloom
spreading discomfort through the house and making it almost seem that
he had lost the will to live. "I am in this world but to see my woes
increase." He must leave it behind--but there was the dear girl who so
needed him. He could not abandon her.
Fujitsubo had been left a near invalid by the encounter. Omyo~bu and
