the lady herself, the wild carnation no dust falls upon.
"She answered:
"'Dew wets the sleeve that brushes the wild carnation.
The tempest rages. Now comes autumn too.'
"She spoke quietly all the same, and she did not seem really angry.
She did shed a tear from time to time, but she seemed ashamed of herself,
and anxious to avoid difficult moments. I went away feeling much relieved.
It was clear that she did not want to show any sign of anger at my neglect.
And so once more I stayed away for rather a long time.
"And when I looked in on her again she had disappeared.
"If she is still living, it must be in very unhappy circumstances. She
need not have suffered so if she had asserted herself a little more in the
days when we were together. She need not have put up with my absences,
and I would have seen to her needs over the years. The child was a very
pretty little girl. I was fond of her, and I have not been able to find any
trace of her.
"She must be listed among your reticent ones, I suppose? She let me
have no hint of jealousy. Unaware of what was going on, I had no intention
of giving her up. But the result was hopeless yearning, quite as if I had
given her up. I am beginning to forget; and how is it with her? She must
remember me sometimes, I should think, with regret, because she must
remember too that it was not I who abandoned her. She was, I fear, not
the sort of woman one finds it possible to keep for very long.
"Your jealous woman must be interesting enough to remember, but
she must have been a bit wearying. And the other one, all her skill on the
koto cannot have been much compensation for the undependability. And
the one I have described to you--her very lack of jealousy might have
brought a suspicion that there was another man in her life. Well, such is
the way with the world--you cannot give your unqualified approval to any
of them. Where are you to go for the woman who has no defects and who
combines the virtues of all three? You might choose Our Lady of
Felicity--and find yourself married to unspeakable holiness."
The others laughed.
To~ no Chu~jo~ turned to the young man from the ministry of rites. "You
must have interesting stories too."
"Oh, please. How could the lowest of the low hope to hold your
attention?"
"You must not keep us waiting."
"Let me think a minute." He seemed to be sorting out memories.
"When I was still a student I knew a remarkably wise woman. She was the
sort worth consulting about public affairs, and she had a good mind too
for the little tangles that come into your private life. Her erudition would
have put any ordinary sage to shame. In a word, I was awed into silence.
"I was studying under a learned scholar. I had heard that he had many
daughters, and on some occasion or other I had made the acquaintance of
this one. The father learned of the affair. Taking out wedding cups, he
made reference, among other things, to a Chinese poem about the merits
of an impoverished wife. Although not exactly enamored of the woman,
I had developed a certain fondness for her, and felt somewhat deferential
toward the father. She was most attentive to my needs. I learned many
estimable things from her, to add to my store of erudition and help me with
my work. Her letters were lucidity itself, in the purest Chinese. None of
this japanese nonsense for her. I found it hard to think of giving her up,
and under her tutelage I managed to turn out a few things in passable
Chinese myself. And yet--though I would not wish to seem wanting in
gratitude, it is undeniable that a man of no learning is somewhat daunted
at the thought of being forever his wife's inferior. So it is in any case with
an ignorant one like me; and what possible use could you gentlemen have
for so formidable a wife? A stupid, senseless affair, a man tells himself, and
yet he is dragged on against his will, as if there might have been a bond
in some other life."
"She seems a most unusual woman." Genji and To~ no Chu~jo~ were eager
to hear more.
Quite aware that the great gentlemen were amusing themselves at his
expense, he smiled somewhat impishly. "One day when I had not seen her
for rather a long time I had some reason or other for calling. She was not
in the room where we had been in the habit of meeting. She insisted on
talking to me through a very obtrusive screen. I thought she might be
sulking, and it all seemed very silly. And then again--if she was going to
be so petty, I might have my excuse for leaving her. But no. She was not
a person to let her jealousy show. She knew too much of the world. Her
explanation of what was happening poured forth at great length, all of it
very well reasoned.
"'I have been indisposed with a malady known as coryza. Discom-
moded to an uncommon degree, I have been imbibing of a steeped potion
made from bulbaceous herbs. Because of the noisome odor, I will not find
it possible to admit of greater propinquity. If you have certain random
matters for my attention, perhaps you can deposit the relevant materials
where you are.'
"'Is that so?' I said. I could think of nothing else to say.
"I started to leave. perhaps feeling a little lonely, she called after me,
somewhat shrilly.'When I have disencumbered myself of this aroma, we
can meet once more.
"It seemed cruel to rush off, but the time was not right for a quiet visit.
And it was as she said: her odor was rather high. Again I started out,
pausing long enough to compose a verse:
"'The spider must have told you I would come.
Then why am I asked to keep company with garlic?'
"I did not take time to accuse her of deliberately putting me off.
"She was quicker than l. She chased after me with an answer.
"'Were we two who kept company every night,
What would be wrong with garlic in the daytime?'
"You must admit she was quick with her answers." He had quietly
finished his story.
The two gentlemen, Genji and his friend, would have none of it. "A
complete fabrication, from start to finish. Where could you find such a
woman? Better to have a quiet evening with a witch." They thought it an
outrageous story, and asked if he could come up with nothing more accept-
able.
"Surely you would not wish for a more unusual sort of story?"
The guards officer took up again. "In women as in men, there is no
one worse than the one who tries to display her scanty knowledge in full.
It is among the least endearing of accomplishments for a woman to have
delved into the Three Histories and the Five Classics; and who, on the
other hand, can go through life without absorbing something of public
affairs and private? A reasonably alert woman does not need to be a scholar
to see and hear a great many things. The very worst are the ones who
scribble off Chinese characters at such a rate that they fill a good half of
letters where they are most out of place, letters to other women.'What a
bore,' you say. 'If only she had mastered a few of the feminine things.' She
cannot of course intend it to be so, but the words read aloud seem muscular
and unyielding, and in the end hopelessly mannered. I fear that even our
highest of the high are too often guilty of the fault.
"Then there is the one who fancies herself a poetess. She immerses
herself in the anthologies, and brings antique references into her very first
line, interesting enough in themselves but inappropriate. A man has had
enough with that first line, but he is called heartless if he does not answer,
and cannot claim the honors if he does not answer in a similar vein. On
the Day of the Iris he is frantic to get off to court and has no eye for irises,
and there she is with subtle references to iris roots. On the Day of the
Chrysanthemum, his mind has no room for anything but the Chinese
poem he must come up with in the course of the day, and there she is with
something about the dew upon the chrysanthemum. A poem that might
have been amusing and even moving on a less frantic day has been badly
timed and must therefore be rejected. A woman who dashes off a poem
at an unpoetic moment cannot be called a woman of taste.
"For someone who is not alive to the particular quality of each mo-
ment and each occasion, it is safer not to make a great show of taste and
elegance; and from someone who is alive to it all, a man wants restraint.
She should feign a certain ignorance, she should keep back a little of what
she is prepared to say."
Through all the talk Genji's thoughts were on a single lady. His heart
was filled with her. She answered every requirement, he thought. She had
none of the defects, was guilty of none of the excesses, that had emerged
from the discussion.
The talk went on and came to no conclusion, and as the rainy night
gave way to dawn the stories became more and more improbable.
It appeared that the weather would be fine. Fearing that his father-in-
law might resent his secluding himself in the palace, Genji set off for Sanjo~.
The mansion itself, his wife--every detail was admirable and in the best
of taste. Nowhere did he find a trace of disorder. Here was a lady whom
his friends must count among the truly dependable ones, the indispensable
ones. And yet--she was too finished in her perfection, she was so cool and
self-possessed that she made him uncomfortable. He turned to playful
conversation with Chu~nagon and Nakatsukasa and other pretty young
women among her attendants. Because it was very warm, he loosened his
dress, and they thought him even handsomer.
The minister came to pay his respects. Seeing Genji thus in dishabille,
he made his greetings from behind a conveniently placed curtain. Though
somewhat annoyed at having to receive such a distinguished visitor on
such a warm day, Genji made it clear to the women that they were not to
smile at his discomfort. He was a very calm, self-possessed young gentle-
man.
As evening approached, the women reminded him that his route from
the palace had transgressed upon the domain of the Lord of the
Center. He must not spend the night here.
"To be sure. But my own house lies in the same direction. And I am
very tired." He lay down as if he meant in spite of everything to stay the
night.
"It simply will not do, my lord."
"The governor of Kii here," said one of Genji's men, pointing to
another. "He has dammed the Inner River and brought it into his garden,
and the waters are very cool, very pleasant."
"An excellent idea. I really am very tired, and perhaps we can send
ahead to see whether we might drive into the garden."
There were no doubt all sorts of secret places to which he could have
gone to avoid the taboo. He had come to Sanjo~, and after a considerable
absence. The minister might suspect that he had purposely chosen a night
on which he must leave early.
The governor of Kii was cordial enough with his invitation, but when
he withdrew he mentioned certain misgivings to Genji's men. Ritual purifi-
cation, he said, had required all the women to be away from his father's
house, and unfortunately they were all crowded into his own, a cramped
enough place at best. He feared that Genji would be inconvenienced.
"Nothing of the sort," said Genji, who had overheard. "It is good to
have people around. There is nothing worse than a night away from home
with no ladies about. just let me have a little comer behind their curtains."
"If that is what you want," said his men, "then the governor's place
should be perfect."
And so they sent runners ahead. Genji set off immediately, though in
secret, thinking that no great ceremony was called for. He did not tell the
minister where he was going, and took only his nearest retainers. The
governor grumbled that they were in rather too much of a hurry. No one
listened.
The east rooms of the main hall had been cleaned and made presenta-
ble. The waters were as they had been described, a most pleasing arrange-
ment. A fence of wattles, of a deliberately rustic appearance, enclosed the
garden, and much care had gone into the plantings. The wind was cool.
Insects were humming, one scarcely knew where, fireflies drew innumera-
ble lines of light, and all in all the time and the place could not have been
more to his liking. His men were already tippling, out where they could
admire a brook flowing under a gallery. The governor seemed to have
"hurried off for viands." Gazing calmly about him, Genji concluded that
the house would be of the young guardsman's favored in-between cate-
gory. Having heard that his host's stepmother, who would be in residence,
was a high-spirited lady, he listened for signs of her presence. There were
signs of someone's presence immediately to the west. He heard a swishing
of silk and young voices that were not at all displeasing. Young ladies
seemed to be giggling self-consciously and trying to contain themselves.
The shutters were raised, it seemed, but upon a word from the governor
they were lowered. There was a faint light over the sliding doors. Genji
went for a look, but could find no opening large enough to see through.
Listening for a time, he concluded that the women had gathered in the
main room, next to his.
The whispered discussion seemed to be about Genji himself.
"He is dreadfully serious, they say, and has made a fine match for
himself. And still so young. Don't you imagine he might be a little lonely?
But they say he finds time for a quiet little adventure now and then."
Genji was startled. There was but one lady on his mind, day after day.
