The Tale of Genji

  He placed a short curtain standing nearby between them and the altar and for a time lay down beside her. The strong fragrance of incense and the highly distinctive scent of star anise troubled him, for the Buddha meant far more to him than to most people. Especially now when she is still in mourning, he thought, struggling to regain his composure, any thoughtless concession to my impatience would be an offense against what I aspired to first; surely when her mourning is over she will soften toward me at least a little. An autumn night stirs many feelings, even somewhere less lonely, and no wonder that here gales on the peaks and crickets crying in the hedge spoke to them only of desolation. Her occasional responses to his talk of the fleeting world left an admirable impression. The women, so difficult to waken before, gathered that it was done now, and they all withdrew. She recalled what His Highness her father had said, and reflected how true it is that the longer one lives, the more unforeseen trials one must bear. In her despair she felt as though her tears would flow to join the noise of the brawling river.12

  Daybreak came at last. The Counselor's men arose and cleared their throats to rouse him, and the neighing of the horses reminded him pleasantly of what he had heard of nights spent on the road. He opened the panel toward the light of dawn, and they looked out together at the poignant sky. She, too, slipped forward slightly, while, little by little, light caught the dewdrops on the ferns fringing the shallow eaves. Their figures side by side lent each other a sweet grace. “How I should love just to be with you always like this, enjoying with one heart the moon or the blossoms and sharing observations on this passing world.”

  He spoke so kindly that by and by she forgot her fear. “If only I could talk to you not all exposed like this, but with something between us, I am sure that at heart nothing would part us,” she replied.

  The light grew, and they heard a rush of wings nearby as flocks of birds took to the air. A distant bell rang to mark the last of the night and the new morning. “Go now,” she said, desperately ashamed. “You must not stay.”

  “I cannot make my way straight home through the morning dew as though something really happened. What would people think?13 Please grant me the latitude you would if it had, and do the same hereafter as well, even if we are not to each other what the world assumes. Be sure that I will do nothing to offend you. Ah, you are cruel not to pity me for all the intensity of my devotion!” He made not the slightest move to leave.

  “Very well,” she said, foreseeing disaster, “it shall be as you wish hereafter, but this morning please do as I say!” She was desperate.

  “It is too hard! I know nothing of partings at dawn, and I am quite certain that I shall lose my way!” He sighed again and again.

  Somewhere a cock crowed faintly, and his thoughts went to the City.

  “Ah, the break of day, when many cockcrow voices gather into dawn

  all a mountain village's throng of wandering sorrows!”

  She replied,

  “I believed this place, far away among these hills, had no cocks to crow,

  and yet life with all its grief has found me out even here.”

  After accompanying her to the sliding panel,14 he left by the way he had entered the evening before and lay down, but he could not sleep. Still longing for her presence, he realized that he could not possibly have taken the matter so calmly all these months if he had felt this way about her. The prospect of returning to the City seemed very bleak.

  The elder Princess did not go straight to lie down because she worried about what her people might be thinking. What misery it is to get through life with no one to lean on, she reflected, and what unfortunate surprises life may easily bring, when some will go on and on plying me with unsound advice! I cannot really object to this gentleman's looks or manner, and my father himself suggested often enough that if he were so inclined… But no, for myself I will continue as I am. It is my far prettier and far more deserving sister whom I would gladly see live as others do. Once I have done that for her, I shall look after her with all my heart. But who, then, will look out for me? If this gentleman were anyone ordinary, I might well after all these years feel like accepting him, but he is so overwhelming, so daunting in his glory, that he only makes me hopelessly shy. No, I will live out my life just like this. Sleepless and often in tears, she awaited day, feeling so unwell after what she had been through that she went into the inner room to lie beside her sister.

  The younger Princess had been lying there wondering what the women could be whispering about, and she was glad that her sister had come, but when she drew the covers over her, she felt enveloped by his penetrating fragrance and remembered what trouble it had given the watchman. Well, then, it must be true. Feeling very sorry, she said nothing and pretended to be asleep.

  Their visitor called out the old woman Ben, talked to her intently, and, before he left, gave her a thoroughly proper note15 for her mistress, who reflected, Even after I took his “trefoil knots” so lightly, my sister must assume that I have ended up with him, whatever “mere arm's length” I may have meant to keep between him and me. She was deeply ashamed and spent the day quite indisposed, claiming to be ill.

  “It16 will be soon, my lady!” a gentlewoman reminded her. “There is no one else to look after all the little things that need doing, and your indisposition comes at a very bad time!”

  The younger Princess finished wrapping the packets.17 “I have no idea how to do the gift knots,” she insisted; and so in the sheltering darkness her sister got up, and they did the tying together. A letter came from the Counselor, but in her reply she spoke only of how unwell she had been all day. “What a thing to do!” the women whispered. “She is such a little girl!”

  Their time of mourning ended, and when changing out of their old robes they reflected how swiftly the months and days had passed, even though they had never actually thought to survive him at all. They had made a pathetic sight, prostrate with despair over their unexpected and tragic misfortune. After going about for so long in darkest gray, they looked quite lovely now in a far lighter shade, and the younger, who was indeed in full flower, surpassed her sister in winsome grace. The elder all but forgot her sorrows as she watched the women wash and comb her sister's hair, for she was such a pleasure that it was a delight to imagine her looking every bit as well to him. There was now no one else she could have look after her, and she therefore did so herself with all a mother's tenderness.

  Combing a lady's hair

  The Counselor, too eager to await the ninth month when she would no longer wear the mourning he had felt obliged to respect, now came again.18 “I should like to talk to you as I did before,” he reminded her, but she declined to receive him on the pretext that, unfortunately, she did not feel herself.

  “You are extraordinarily harsh!” he protested in an answering note. “What can your women be thinking?”

  “I am too overcome to speak to you—it has been too upsetting to face changing out of mourning,” she replied. Outraged, he called the same woman as always and poured out his complaint.

  The gentlewomen, who looked to him alone for relief from dire misery, felt that it would be wonderful if he were to have his desire and their mistress were then to move somewhere far more respectable; and they had all agreed simply to let him in. The elder Princess knew little enough of this but noted her peril nonetheless, for, she reflected, He does seem to make rather a lot of that old woman, and she might cause trouble if she were to fall in with him. When something happens in an old tale, there, too, it is not the lady who starts it. No, one must always beware of what people may be up to.

  As long as he is so angry with me, I must put my sister forward, she continued. He may be disappointed, but I cannot imagine him treating her lightly once he has made her his, and besides, the slightest acquaintance with her will please him very well. Who, though, would just accept the idea straight off, if I were to mention it? Not he, surely—that is not what he had in mind, he would say, and in any case he would
refrain for fear of being thought fickle.

  She felt that it would be wrong of her to breathe no word of her plan to her sister, for whom her own experience encouraged sympathy, and accordingly she told her all. “Our father said we must never take it into our heads to act lightly or provoke laughter, even if that were to mean remaining alone like this all our lives, and considering how sinfully we kept him tied to the world while he lived, and troubled his pious devotions, I am resolved to honor his every word, which is why I myself hardly feel lonely at all. These women, though, seem to resent this strange obstinacy on my part, and that places me in a painful position. And yes, as far as that goes, the prospect of having you living on and on this way strikes me with every passing month and day as a sadder and greater shame. I long to give you, at least, a life such as others lead and so to assure myself, as I am, some comfort and dignity.”

  What could she be thinking? her sister wondered indignantly. “Do you suppose he meant just one of us to spend the rest of her life this way? Hopeless as I am, I am sure that I worried him far more than you! What comfort could I be to you unless I were here with you day and night?” She really was quite angry, and the elder, who could only agree, thought her very sweet.

  “But to all of them I am impossibly obstinate—it makes me so upset!” She said no more.

  The sun began to go down, but still their visitor did not leave. Her Highness was at her wits' end. Ben came with a message from him and went on at some length about how rightly he was annoyed. She just sighed in answer and wondered what on earth to do. If only we still had just one of them,19 she thought, there would at least be someone able to look after all this for me, and since the vagaries of destiny make it so difficult ever to please oneself,20 failure then would look decent enough and provoke no smiles. They are all growing old, every one, and each thinks herself wise. They carry on as they please about what would be right for me, but am I to believe them? No, they do not deserve it, and they have only one thing in mind! The way the women all kept at her, as though they would drag her off by main force, annoyed her extremely, and she remained completely unmoved. On this topic her sister, with whom she discussed everything in perfect accord, was somewhat more naive even than she, so much so that she hardly understood the issue at all. What a hopeless situation this is! the elder cried to herself, resolutely turning away from them.

  “Will you not change into other colors, my lady?” they kept insisting, each apparently intent on the same thing, and in dismay she realized that there was indeed nothing here to stand in a man's way. The house was so small that it offered no hope; there was nowhere for a yamanashi blossom to hide.21

  The visitor himself made no distinct approach to any of them, having decided long ago to remain as perfectly discreet as though this bond had never had any marked beginning. “I shall be patient in exactly this way for as long as it takes her to give me her consent”: that was the resolve of which he spoke. That old woman of his talked it over with the others, all of them whispering openly together, but they were foolish and, at their age, stubborn, and that is probably why Her Highness remained in so sad a plight.

  Being at a loss, she talked to Ben when Ben approached her. “I remember how His Highness used to speak of this gentleman's rare devotion,” she said, “and by now I rely on him in all things. Indeed, I am more casual with him than it is proper for me to be. Yet his temperament betrays something else as well, something I had not thought to find, and he seems to be angry with me, which I find quite disturbing. If it were sensible for me, as I am, to wish to live in the world as others do, I would have no reason to refuse him. However, I gave up that sort of idea long ago, and all this is very painful. What I do regret is that my sister and the beauty of her youth should go to waste. For her needs, yes, a house like this one here is far too constricting, and if he really aspires to honor His Highness's wishes, I would have him accept her as myself. I feel as though I should then be with both, and our two hearts, hers and mine, would be one in her. Please let him know that, and put it as persuasively as you can.” Despite her shyness she said very well what she wanted to say, and Ben was deeply moved.

  “My lady, I had already gathered that much from you, and I have explained the matter to him perfectly clearly, but he says that he cannot possibly shift his affections that way, and that since His Highness of War is more and more seriously displeased with him, he means to be of all the assistance he can in that direction as well. That would be excellent for you both, my lady. Your mother and father could not arrange two more advantageous alliances, even if they were both alive and intent on doing their best for you. If I may say so, I wonder sadly what is to become of you when I consider the perilous circumstances of your present life, and although I cannot vouch for these gentlemen's feelings in the future, I do think that they represent a wonderful stroke of good fortune for you both. I quite understand that you should not wish to disobey His Highness's last words, but surely he meant only to leave you a warning, lest no party worthy of you appear and you be tempted to consider one insufficiently distinguished. He said often enough that should this gentleman be so inclined, he would very gladly see you that well settled. High or low, someone who loses those who uphold her best interests may easily find herself caught in circumstances to which she should never have assented, and that, I believe, is what often happens. It is all too common, and no one will blame her for it. In this case, though, my lady, when a gentleman whose standing so honors you that he might have been born for just that purpose assures you of deep and rare devotion, very well, you may insist on fending him off to carry through your own pious resolve, but will you then subsist on nothing but clouds and mist?”22

  Her Highness, who found this lengthy speech repellent and offensive, lay facedown on the floor. At the sight her younger sister felt extremely sorry for her. They went to bed together as usual. The elder was worried and anxious about what to do next, but the house offered no nook or cranny where she could hide. She therefore simply drew a nice soft robe over her sister and lay down a little distance from her, since it was still quite warm.

  Ben told their visitor what Her Highness had said. Why, he wondered, did she so reject the world and its ways? Perhaps she had learned from her saintly father that all things pass. She seemed to him at heart more than ever like himself, and he felt no aversion or any wish to make himself out to be wiser than she. “I see,” he said. “At present she will not consider receiving me, not even with something between us. Tonight, then, you must find me a way to steal in to where she is sleeping.” Ben had the others go off to bed early and arranged things with those who knew.

  The evening was hardly over before a roaring wind set in, rattling the flimsy shutters and, he realized, providing a perfect opportunity to slip in unheard. Ben softly led him in. It bothered her that the sisters were sleeping together, but they always did that, and she could not very well have asked them just this once to sleep apart; in any case, she assumed that he would manage well enough to recognize the one he had in mind. Her Highness, however, was still awake. On detecting a sudden sound she silently rose and slipped off quickly to hide. What are they up to? Her heart went out in anguish to her still peacefully sleeping sister. How I wish we could both hide together! But she could not go back. Shaking, she watched a gentleman in a gown23 enter by the lamp's dim glow, as though the room were his own, and lift the cloth of the standing curtain. With sharp pity she wondered, What can she be feeling? Meanwhile she sat cramped between the screen that stood there and the shabby wall. It so hurt to imagine her sister's utter repugnance, when the mere prospect was apparently hateful to her. And all this, she kept thinking, is our misfortune for having been left alone in the world without any real protector! She seemed to see her father before her, just as he had been that evening when he set off up the mountain, and she longed for him desperately.

  That single figure set the Counselor's heart beating with pleasure, for he thought that she must be expecting him; but no, he saw
all too soon that it was not she. This one seemed a little prettier, a little more sweetly appealing. Her horror and dismay told him plainly enough that she really did not know what he was doing there, and he felt very sorry for her, although at the same time the cruelty of her sister, who must at present be hidden somewhere, genuinely infuriated him. He did not like the thought of this one either belonging to anyone else, but he bitterly rued being so thwarted in what he truly desired, and he had no wish to seem capricious in her eyes. Very well, he assured himself, I shall let this pass, and if destiny then really will have it that this one is to be mine, why should she, just for that, have to go to somebody else? On this resolve he spent the night, as before, in sweet and amusing conversation.

  The old women, who thought it was done, asked each other, “Where can our younger mistress possibly be? It is very strange!”

  “She must be somewhere!”

  “Quite apart from all this, you know, the very sight of him is enough to smooth your wrinkles away, and I can't imagine why Her Highness should want nothing to do with anyone so wonderfully handsome and kind!”

  “I suppose that terrifying god they talk about must have possessed her,”24 ventured a gap-toothed old woman with an evil tongue.

  “Oh, no, you'll bring bad luck! What could have got into her head? She just grew up a long way from anyone else, that's all—she doesn't know what to do with herself because she has no one to advise her properly on something like this. She'll like him well enough once they're actually together.”

  “Well, I wish she'd give him his way,” said a last sleepy voice, “and be what we hope she'll be!” Distressing snores came from here and there.

  This was no autumn night for “the one you spend it with” to shorten,25 but he felt even so that dawn came all too soon, and it occurred quite naturally to him that he was very sorry to leave her, for both were equally lovely. “Love me, too!” he said. “Please do not pattern yourself on someone else, who is very cruel!” He promised that they would meet once more. Despite himself he felt as though it had been strangely like a dream, but he was reassuring himself when he left to lie down, as he had done before, that another time he would try again with the one who spurned him.