He sometimes joked with ladies of a certain standing, but he was careful
not to lead them too far. Even those who might have expected more had
to make do with a joke. The thing that really concerned him and never left
his mind was getting back at the nurse who had sneered at his blue sleeves.
He was fairly sure that he could better To~ no Chu~jo~ at a contest of wills,
but sometimes the old anger and chagrin came back and he wanted more.
He wanted to make To~ no Chu~jo~ genuinely regretful for what he had done.
He revealed these feelings only to Kumoinokari. Before everyone else he
was a model of cool composure.
Her brothers sometimes thought him rather conceited. Kashiwagi, the
oldest, was greatly interested these days in Tamakazura. Lacking a better
intermediary, he came sighing to Yu~giri. The friendship of the first genera-
tion was being repeated in the second.
"One does not undertake to plead another's case," replied Yu~giri
quietly.
To~ no Chu~jo~ was a very important man, and his many sons were
embarked upon promising careers, as became their several pedigrees and
<P 440>
inclinations. He had only two daughters. The one who had gone to court
had been a disappointment. The prospect of having the other do poorly
did not of course please him. He had not forgotten the lady of the evening
faces. He often spoke of her, and he went on wondering what had hap-
pened to the child. The lady had put him off guard with her gentleness and
appearance of helplessness, and so he had lost a daughter. A man must not
under any circumstances let a woman out of his sight. Suppose the girl
were to turn up now in some outlandish guise and stridently announce
herself as his daughter--well, he would take her in.
"Do not dismiss anyone who says she is my daughter," he told his
sons. In my younger days I did many things I ought not to have done.
There was a lady of not entirely contemptible birth who lost patience with
me over some triviality or other, and so I lost a daughter, and I have so
few."
There had been a time when he had almost forgotten the lady. Then
he began to see what great things his friends were doing for their daugh-
ters, and to feel resentful that he had been granted so few.
One night he had a dream. He called in a famous seer and asked for
an interpretation.
"Might it be that you will hear of a long-lost child who has been taken
in by someone else?"
This was very puzzling. He could think of no daughters whom he had
put out for adoption. He began to wonder about Tamakazura.
<W Murasaki Shikibu>{Translated by Edward G.Seidensticker}
<T The Tale of Genji>
<K 3>
<C 26>{Wild Carnations}
<N 1>
<P 441>
It was a very hot day. Genji was cooling himself in the angling pavilion
of the southeast quarter. Yu~giri and numerous friends of the middle court
ranks were with him. They had offered to roast trout which had been
brought from the Katsura and goby from nearer streams. Several of To~
no Chu~jo~'s sons, his constant companions, were among them.
"You came at a very good time," said Genji. "I was feeling bored and
sleepy." Wine and ice water and other refreshments were brought, and it
had become a very lively picnic. Though a pleasant wind was blowing, the
air was heavy and the sun seemed to move more slowly than usual through
a cloudless sky. The shrilling of cicadas was intense, almost oppressive. "It
does not do us much good to be on top of the water. I am going to be rude."
He lay down. "Not even music helps in weather like this, and yet it is not
very satisfying to go through a whole day doing nothing at all. You
youngsters must have a hard time of it in your offices. Here at least you
can undo yourselves and relax and bring me up on all the amusing gossip.
I am old and out of things, and I must look to you to keep me informed
and drive away the yawns."
It seemed a heavy responsibility. Most of them had withdrawn to the
verandas, where it was cooler.
He turned to Ko~bai, To~ no Chu~jo~'s second son. "Where did I hear--
I can't think--that your father had found a stray daughter and is all in a
ferment over her? Is it true?"
<P 442 >
"Oh, I don't think it's a very interesting piece of news, really. There
was a woman, it is true, who got wind of a dream Father had this spring
and made it known that she had certain relevant matters to bring to his
attention. My brother Kashiwagi went to see her and asked what evidence
she had to support her claims. I am afraid I have not kept myself very well
informed of all the details, though it does seem to be true, as you suggest,
sir, that rather a big thing is made of it all. I do not think myself that it
brings great honor to Father or to the family."
So it was true. "Very greedy of him, going out after stray geese when
the flock is so large already. My own is so small that I would be delighted
to learn of strays. Perhaps my humble status discourages people from
coming to me with similar claims. I have detected none, in any event. But
isn't it like your father?" He smiled. "He has stirred the waters rather a
lot in his time, and one expects to find a muddy moon reflected from
them."
Yu~giri, who had heard the whole story, was smiling. To~ no Chu~jo~'s
sons seemed to be in some discomfort. .
"How about it, my young lord?" said Genji to Yu~giri. "Suppose you
go pick up this fallen leaf. It would be better to have something in your
<P 443>
bonnet than to be known as a complete failure. After all, she is one of us."
Genji and To~ no Chu~jo~ had always maintained an appearance of close
friendship, but their differences were of long standing. Genji did not at all
like the way Yu~giri had been treated, and would have been pleased to have
Ko~bai take home reports which would annoy his father. Genji was sure
that Tamakazura would be received courteously and properly honored if
To~ no Chu~jo~ were to learn of her presence. He was a strong, decisive man,
very definite in his opinions and inclined to be more emphatic than most
in praising good and castigating evil. He would be severe in his judgment
of Genji, but he would not turn away the daughter who suddenly pre-
sented herself to him. He was certain to treat her with the most scrupulous
ceremony.
A cool breeze informed them that evening was finally at hand. The
young men were reluctant to leave.
"Well, let us all have a good time. I am at an age when I fear I am not
welcome in such company." Genji started for Tamakazura's northeast
quarter.
<N 2>
They all followed, dressed very much alike and almost indistinguisha-
ble one from another in the twilight.
"Suppose you come out toward the veranda just a little," he said,
going in and addressing her in intimate tones not likely to be overheard.
"Ko~bai and several of his brothers have come with me. They are all mad
for introductions, and our staid and opprobrious Yu~giri does nothing at all
for them. Even a very undistinguished young lady, you know, can expect
suitors while she is still under her father's wing. Somehow everything in
this house gets wildly blown up and exaggerated. We have not had young
ladies to arouse their interest, and in my boredom I have thought it might
be fun to see you at work on them. You have not disappointed me."
He had avoided showy plantings in this northeast quarter, but the
choicest of wild carnations caught the evening light beneath low, elegant
Chinese and Japanese fences. The young men seemed very eager to step
down and pluck them (and the flower within as well).
"They are knowledgeable, well-bred young men, all of them. They of
course have their various ways. That is as it should be, and I find nothing
to take serious exception to. Kashiwagi is perhaps the most serious of
them. Indeed he sometimes makes me feel a little uncomfortable. Has he
written to you? You must not be unkind to him."
Yu~giri stood out even in so fine an assembly.
"I cannot think why my friend the minister dislikes him. Does he have
such a high regard for his own proud name that he looks down on us
offshoots of the royal family?"
"'Come and be my bridegroom,' everyone is saying. Or so I am told."
"I do not ask that he be invited in for a banquet, only that he be
<P 444>
admitted inside. A clean and innocent attachment is being frustrated, and
that I do not like. Is it that the boy does not yet amount to much? That
is a problem which he can safely leave to me."
These matters seemed to complicate the girl's life yet further. When,
she wondered, would she be permitted to meet her own father?
There was no moon. Lamps were brought in.
"Not so close, please. Why don't we have flares down in the garden?"
Taking out a Japanese koto and finding it satisfactorily tuned, he
plucked out a few notes. The tone was splendid.
"If you have disappointed me at all, it has been because you have
shown so little interest in music. Might I recommend the Japanese koto,
for instance? It is a surprisingly bright and up-to-date sort of instrument
when you play it with no nonsense and let it join the crickets in the cool
moonlight of an autumn evening. For some reason it does not always seem
entirely at home in a formal concert, but it goes very well with other
instruments even so. A crude domestic product if you will--but just see
how cleverly it is put together. It is for ladies who do not set much stock
by foreign things. I warmly recommend it if you think you might want to
begin taking music lessons. You must always look for new ways to make
it go with other instruments. The basic techniques may seem simple, and
indeed they are; but to put them to really good use is another matter. There
is no better hand in the whole court than your father, the minister. He has
only to give it the slightest muted pluck and there they all are, the grand,
high tones of all the imported kotos."
Already somewhat familiar with the instrument, she was eager to hear
more. "Do you suppose we might have a concert here sometime and ask
him to join us? It is the instrument all the country people play, and I had
thought that there was not a great deal to it." She did seem to be most
eager. "You are right, of course. It is very different in the hands of someone
who knows what he is doing."
"It is also called the eastern koto, you know, and that brings up
thoughts of the wild frontier. But when there is a concert at the palace the
Japanese koto is always the first instrument His Majesty sends for. I do not
know much about other countries, but in our own it must be called the
grandfather of all the instruments, and you could not possibly find a better
teacher than the minister. We see him here from time to time, but the
trouble is that he is rather shy about playing. The really good ones always
are. But you will have your chance to hear him one of these days."
He played a few strains, the tone richer and cleaner than anything she
had heard before. She wondered how her father could possibly be a better
musician, and she longed more than ever to meet him, and to see him thus
at home with his koto.
"Soft as the reed pillow," he sang, very gently, "the waves of the river
Nuki." He smiled as he came to the passage about the uncooperative
<P 445>
parent. There was wonderful delicacy in the muted chord with which he
brought it to a conclusion.
"Now we must hear from you. In artistic matters modesty is not a
virtue. I have, it is true, heard of ladies who keep 'I Long for Him' to
themselves, but in other matters openness never seems brazen."
But she had had lessons in the remote countryside from an old woman
who said, though she gave no details, that she had been born in the capital
and had royal blood in her veins. Such credentials did not inspire confi-
dence, and the girl refused to touch the instrument.
"No, let me hear just a little more, and perhaps I will be clever enough
to imitate it." And so the japanese koto brought her close to him when
other devices had failed. "Is it the wind that accounts for that extraordi-
nary tone?" He thought her quite ravishing as she sat in the dim torchlight
as if seeking an answer to her question.
"An extraordinary wind," he said, smiling, "demonstrating that you
are not after all deaf."
He pushed the koto towards her, but he had given her reason to be
out of sorts; and besides, her women were listening.
"And what of our young men? They did not pay proper attention to
our wild carnations." He was in a meditative mood. "I really must show
this garden to my friend the minister sometime. Life is uncertain, of course.
We are gone tomorrow. And yet all those years since he and I talked of
your mother, and you yourself were our wild carnation--somehow an
eternity can seem like nothing at all.
" Were he to see its gentle hues unchanging,
Would he not come to the hedge of the wild carnation?
"And that would complicate matters, and so I have kept you in a
cocoon. I fear you have found it constraining."
Brushing away a tear, she replied:
"Who would come to seek the wild carnation
That grew at such a rough and rustic hedge?"
The note of self-effacement made her seem very young and gentle.
"If he does not come," whispered Genji, by no means sure how much
longer he could control himself.
<N 3>
Uncomfortable about the frequency of his visits, he took to writing
letters, which came in a steady stream. She was never out of his thoughts.
