nent of me to say so, but we do after all 'wear the same garlands.' I have
been very slow about introducing myself, I am afraid, but I will hope to
see a great deal of you, and I hope too that you will let me know immedi-
ately of any derelictions and oversights of which I am guilty."
"You are very kind. My lady has been feeling rather disconsolate
without her father, and nothing could be more comforting. It was his hope
as he prepared to leave the world that you would not turn away from her,
but would look upon her, still very much a child, as someone to educate
and improve. My lady is being very quiet, but I know that she shares these
hopes."
"Ever since the Suzaku emperor honored me with a letter I have
wanted to do something; but I have found, alas, that I am capable of so
very little."
Gently, she sought to draw the princess into conversation about illus-
trated romances and the like. Even at her age, she said, she still played with
dolls. She left the princess feeling, in a childish, half-formed way, that this
was a kind and gentle lady, not so old in heart and manner as to make a
young person feel uncomfortable. Genji had been right. They frequently
exchanged notes and from time to time Murasaki joined her in her games.
The world has an unpleasant way of gossiping about people in high
places. How, everyone asked, was Murasaki responding to it all? Some
lessening of Genji's affection seemed inevitable, and some loss of place and
prestige. When it became clear beyond denying that his affection had if
anything increased, there were those who said that he really ought to be
nicer to his princess. Finally it became clear that the two ladies were getting
on very well together, and the world had to look elsewhere for its gossip.
In the Tenth Month, Murasaki made offerings in Genji's honor,
choosing a temple in Saga, to the west of the city. She had meant to respect
his distaste for ceremony, but the images and sutras, the latter in wonder-
fully wrought boxes and covers, made one think of an earthly paradise.
She commissioned a reading, very solemn and grand, of the sutras for the
protection of the realm. The temple was a large one and the congregation
<P 566>
was enormous and included most of the highest officials, in part, perhaps,
because the fields and moors were at their autumn best. Already the
carriages and horses sent up a wintry rustling through the dry grasses.
The other ladies at Rokujo~ also commissioned holy readings, each one
seeking to outdo her fellows.
Genji ended his fast on the twenty-third. Unlike the other Rokujo~
ladies, Murasaki still thought of Nijo~ as her real home. It was there that
she arranged a banquet. She herself saw to the arrangements, the festive
dress and the like. The other ladies all volunteered their services. The
occupants of the outer wings at Nijo~ were temporarily moved elsewhere
and their rooms refitted to accommodate the important guests and their
retinues, down to grooms and footmen. The chair of honor, decorated with
mother-of-pearl, was put out on a porch before the main hall. Twelve
wardrobe stands, on which were the usual summer and winter robes and
quilts and spreads, were set out in the west room--though the observer
was left to guess what might lie beneath the rich covers of figured purple.
Before the chair of honor were two tables spread with a Chinese silk of
a gradually deeper hue towards the fringes. The ceremonial chaplet was on
an aloeswood stand with flared legs and decorations in metal applique "
gold birds in silver branches, designed by the Akashi lady and in very good
taste indeed. The four screens behind, commissioned by Prince Hyo~bu,
were excellent. Convention required landscapes of the four seasons, but he
had been at pains to insure that they be more than routine. The array of
treasures on four tiered stands along the north wall quite suited the occa-
sion. The highest-ranking guests, the ministers and Prince Hyo~bu and the
others, had seats near the south veranda of the main hall. As for the lower
ranks, almost no one failed to appear. Awnings had been set out for the
musicians in the garden, to the left and right of the dance platform. Gifts
for the guests were laid out along the southeast verandas, viands in eighty
boxes and robes in forty Chinese chests.
The musicians took their places in early afternoon. There were dances
which one is not often privileged to see, "Myriad Years" and "The Royal
Deer," and, as sunset neared, the Korean dragon dance, to flute and drum.
Yu~giri and Kashiwagi went out to dance the closing steps. The image of
the two of them under the autumn leaves seemed to linger on long after-
wards. For the older members of the audience it was joined to the image
of a dance long before, "Waves of the Blue Ocean," at the Suzaku Palace,
in the course of that memorable autumn excursion. In face and manner and
general repute the sons seemed very little if at all inferior to the fathers.
Indeed, their careers were advancing rather more briskly. And how many
years had it been since that autumn excursion? That the friendship of the
first generation should be repeated in the second told of very close ties
from other worlds. Genji was in tears as memories flooded back.
<P 567>
In the evening the musicians withdrew along the lake and hillock. The
white robes which Murasaki's stewards had given them from the Chinese
chests were draped over their shoulders, and one thought of the white
cranes that promise ten thousand years of life.
And now the guests began their own concert, and it too was very fine.
The crown prince had provided the instruments, including a lute and a
seven-stringed koto that had belonged to his father, the Suzaku emperor,
all of them heirlooms with rich associations. It was long since Genji had
last enjoyed such a concert, and each turn and phrase brought memories
of his years at court. If only Fujitsubo had lived to permit him the pleasure
of arranging just such a concert for her! He somehow felt that he had let
her die without knowing what she had meant to him.
The emperor often thought of his mother, and his longing for her was
intensified by the fact--indeed it was the great unhappiness of his life--
that he was unable to do filial honor to his real father. He had hoped that
the festivities might accommodate another royal progress to Rokujo~, but
finally acceded to Genji's repeated orders that no one was to be incon-
venienced.
Back at Rokujo~ towards the end of the year, Akikonomu arranged the
<P 568>
final jubilee observances, readings at the seven great Nara temples and
forty temples in and near the capital. To the former she sent forty bolts
of cotton and to the latter four hundred double bolts of silk. She was much
in Genji's debt, and never again would she have such an opportunity to
show her gratitude. She wanted everything to be as her late mother and
father would have had it; but since Genji's wish to avoid display had
frustrated even the emperor's hopes, she limited herself to a small part of
what she would have wished to do.
"I have seen it happen so often," said Genji. "People make a great
thing of fortieth birthdays and promptly they die. Let us speak softly this
time, and wait for something really memorable.
But she was, after all, empress, and what she arranged was inevitably
magnificent. She was hostess at a banquet in the main hall of her southwest
quarter, similar in most of its details to Murasaki's Nijo~ banquet. The gifts
for the important guests were as at a state banquet. For royal princes there
were sets of ladies' robes, very imaginatively chosen, and, after their sev-
eral ranks, the other guests received white robes, also for ladies, and bolts
of cloth. Among the fine old objects (it was like a display of the very finest)
were some famous belts and swords which she had inherited from her
father and which were so laden with memory that several of the guests
were in tears. We have all read romances which list every gift and offering
at such affairs, but I am afraid that they rather bore me; nor am I able to
provide a complete guest list.
The emperor still wanted a part in the festivities. A general having
resigned because of ill health, he proposed a special jubilee appointment
for Yu~giri. Genji replied that he was deeply grateful, and only hoped that
Yu~giri was not too young for the honor.
And so there was another banquet, this time in the northeast quarter,
where Yu~giri's foster mother, the lady of the orange blossoms, was in
residence. It was to be a small, private affair, but like the others it took on
magnificence quite of its own accord. Under the personal supervision of
the imperial secretariat and upon royal command, supplies were brought
from the palace granaries and storehouses. Five royal princes were among
the guests, as were both of the ministers and ten councillors, two of the
first and three of the middle rank. Neither the crown prince nor the Suzaku
emperor was present, but they sent most of their personal aides, and the
court attended en masse. By royal command, To~ no Chu~jo~, the chancellor,
was also present, and he had earlier given his attention to the table settings
and decorations. It was a very special honor, for which Genji was deeply
grateful. He and To~ no Chu~jo~ sat opposite each other in the main hall. To~
no Chu~jo~ was a tall, strongly built man who carried himself with all the
dignity of his high office. And Genji was still the shining Genji.
Again there were screens for the four seasons. The polychrome paint-
ings, on figured Chinese silk of a delicate lavender, were very fine, of
course, but the superscriptions, by the emperor himself, were superb. (Or
<P 569>
did they so dazzle because one knew from whose hand they had come?)
The imperial secretariat had provided tiered stands on which were ar-
ranged musical instruments and other treasures attesting to Yu~giri's new
eminence. Darkness was falling as forty guardsmen lined up forty royal
horses for review. The dances, "Myriad Years" and "Our Gracious Mon-
arch," were brief but by no means casual, for they did honor to the
chancellor as royal emissary. Prince Hotaru took up his favored lute, and
his mastery of the instrument was as always impressive. Genji chose a
seven-stringed Chinese koto and the chancellor a Japanese koto. Genji had
not heard his friend play in a very long time, and thought that he had
improved. He kept back few of his own secret skills on the Chinese koto.
There was talk of old times. They had been boyhood friends and there
were new ties between them, and the cordiality could scarcely have been
greater. The wine cups went the rounds time after time, the impromptu
concert was an unmixed delight, and pleasant intoxication brought happy
tears which no one tried very hard to hold back.
Genji gave To~ no Chu~jo~ a fine Japanese koto, a Korean flute that was
among his particular favorites, and a sandalwood book chest filled with
Japanese and Chinese manuscripts. They were taken out to To~ no Chu~jo~'s
carriage as he prepared to leave. There was a Korean dance by officials of
the Right Stables to signify grateful acceptance of the horses. Yu~giri had
gifts for the guardsmen. Once again Genji had asked that unnecessary
display be avoided, but of course the emperor, the crown prince, the
Suzaku emperor, and the empress were all very close to his house, and the
splendor of the arrangements seemed in the end to have taken little ac-
count of his wishes.
He had only one son, but such a son, an excellent young man whom
everyone admired, that he had little right to feel deprived. He thought
again of the bitterness between the two mothers, Akikonomu's and Yu~-
giri's, and the fierceness of their rivalry. Fate had unexpected ways of
working itself out.
This time the lady of the orange blossoms chose the festive robes and
the like, entrusting many of the details to Kumoinokari. She had always
felt somehow left out of family gatherings, and she had been a little
frightened at the prospect of receiving such an array of grandees. Here they
were and here she was, and it was all because of Yu~giri.
The New Year came and the crown princess's time drew near. There
were continuous prayers at Nijo~ and services were commissioned at nu-
merous shrines and temples. Remembering Aoi's last days, Genji was in
terror. He had of course wanted Murasaki to have children, but at the same
time he had been happy that she was spared the danger. The crown
princess was very young and very delicate, a worry to everyone. She fell
ill in the Second Month. The soothsayers ordered an immediate change of
air. Not wanting to send her a great distance away, Genji moved her to the
Akashi lady's northwest quarter. It had two large wings and several galler-
<P 570>
ies along which altars were put up. Prayers and incantations echoed sol-
emnly through the quarter as famous and successful liturgists set about
their work. The Akashi lady was perhaps the most apprehensive of all, for
her whole past and future seemed to be coming up for judgment.
The birth of a great-grandchild was for the old Akashi nun a dream
breaking in upon the slumbers of old age. She came immediately to the
crown princess's side and refused to leave. The princess had of course
known the company of her mother over the years, but the Akashi lady had
had little to say of the past. And here was this old woman, obviously very
happy, talking on and on in a tearful, quavering voice. At first the girl
gazed at her in distaste and surprise, but then she remembered hints from
her mother that there was such a person at Rokujo~. Tears streaming from
her eyes, the old nun told of Genji's stay on the Akashi coast and of the
crown princess's birth.
"We were at wits' end when he left us and came back to the city. That
