The Tale of Genji . Murasaki Shikibu
was careful and sober. “You take me for one of the young profligates you see around? I must protest. I am very young and know nothing of the estates which concern you so. You have heard of me, surely, and you must know that I do not go in for adventures. I must ask what unhappy entanglement imposes this upon me. You are making a fool of me, and nothing should surprise me, not even the tumultuous emotions that do in fact surprise me.”
But now his very splendor made her resist. He might think her obstinate and insensitive, but her unfriendliness must make him dismiss her from further consideration. Naturally soft and pliant, she was suddenly firm. It was as with the young bamboo: she bent but was not to be broken. She was weeping. He had his hands full but would not for the world have missed the experience.
“Why must you so dislike me?” he asked with a sigh, unable to stop the weeping. “Don’t you know that the unexpected encounters are the ones we were fated for? Really, my dear, you do seem to know altogether too little of the world.”
“If I had met you before I came to this,” she replied, and he had to admit the truth of it, “then I might have consoled myself with the thought — it might have been no more than self-deception, of course — that you would someday come to think fondly of me. But this is hopeless, worse than I can tell you. Well, it has happened. Say no to those who ask if you have seen me.”
One may imagine that he found many kind promises with which to comfort her.
The first cock was crowing and Genji’s men were awake.
“Did you sleep well? I certainly did.”
“Let’s get the carriage ready.”
Some of the women were heard asking whether people who were avoiding taboos were expected to leave again in the middle of the night.
Genji was very unhappy. He feared he could not find an excuse for another meeting. He did not see how he could visit her, and he did not see how they could write. Chūjō came out, also very unhappy. He let the lady go and then took her back again.
“How shall I write to you? Your feelings and my own — they are not shallow, and we may expect deep memories. Has anything ever been so strange?” He was in tears, which made him yet handsomer. The cocks were now crowing insistently. He was feeling somewhat harried as he composed his farewell verse:
“Why must they startle with their dawn alarums
When hours are yet required to thaw the ice?”
The lady was ashamed of herself that she had caught the eye of a man so far above her. His kind words had little effect. She was thinking of her husband, whom for the most part she considered a clown and a dolt. She trembled to think that a dream might have told him of the night’s happenings.
This was the verse with which she replied:
“Day has broken without an end to my tears.
To my cries of sorrow are added the calls of the cocks.”
It was lighter by the moment. He saw her to her door, for the house was coming to life. A barrier had fallen between them. In casual court dress, he leaned for a time against the south railing and looked out at the garden. Shutters were being raised along the west side of the house. Women seemed to be looking out at him, beyond a low screen at the veranda. He no doubt brought shivers of delight. The moon still bright in the dawn sky added to the beauty of the morning. The sky, without heart itself, can at these times be friendly or sad, as the beholder sees it. Genji was in anguish. He knew that there would be no way even to exchange notes. He cast many a glance backward as he left.
At Sanjō once more, he was unable to sleep. If the thought that they would not meet again so pained him, what must it do to the lady? She was no beauty, but she had seemed pretty and cultivated. Of the middling rank, he said to himself. The guards officer who had seen them all knew what he was talking about.
Spending most of his time now at Sanjō, he thought sadly of the unapproachable lady. At last he summoned her stepson, the governor of Kii.
“The boy I saw the other night, your foster uncle. He seemed a promising lad. I think I might have a place for him. I might even introduce him to my father.”
“Your gracious words quite overpower me. Perhaps I should take the matter up with his sister.”
Genji’s heart leaped at the mention of the lady. “Does she have children?”
“No. She and my father have been married for two years now, but I gather that she is not happy. Her father meant to send her to court.”
“How sad for her. Rumor has it that she is a beauty. Might rumor be correct?”
“Mistaken, I fear. But of course stepsons do not see a great deal of stepmothers.”
Several days later he brought the boy to Genji. Examined in detail the boy was not perfect, but he had considerable charm and grace. Genji addressed him in a most friendly manner, which both confused and pleased him. Questioning him about his sister, Genji did not learn a great deal. The answers were ready enough while they were on safe ground, but the boy’s self-possession was a little disconcerting. Genji hinted rather broadly at what had taken place. The boy was startled. He guessed the truth but was not old enough to pursue the matter.
Genji gave him a letter for his sister. Tears came to her eyes. How much had her brother been told? she wondered, spreading the letter to hide her flushed cheeks.
It was very long, and concluded with a poem:
“I yearn to dream again the dream of that night.
The nights go by in lonely wakefulness.
“There are no nights of sleep.”
The hand was splendid, but she could only weep at the yet stranger turn her life had taken.
The next day Genji sent for the boy.
Where was her answer? the boy asked his sister.
“Tell him you found no one to give his letter to.”
“Oh, please.” The boy smiled knowingly. “How can I tell him that? I have learned enough to be sure there is no mistake.”
She was horrified. It was clear that Genji had told everything.
“I don’t know why you must always be so clever. Perhaps it would be better if you didn’t go at all.”
“But he sent for me.” And the boy departed.
The governor of Kii was beginning to take an interest in his pretty young stepmother, and paying insistent court. His attention turned to the brother, who became his frequent companion.
“I waited for you all day yesterday,” said Genji. “Clearly I am not as much on your mind as you are on mine.”
The boy flushed.
“Where is her answer?” And when the boy told him: “A fine messenger. I had hoped for something better.”
There were other letters.
“But didn’t you know?” he said to the boy. “I knew her before that old man she married. She thought me feeble and useless, it seems, and looked for a stouter support. Well, she may spurn me, but you needn’t. You will be my son. The gentleman you are looking to for help won’t be with us long.”
The boy seemed to be thinking what a nuisance his sister’s husband was. Genji was amused.
He treated the boy like a son, making him a constant companion, giving him clothes from his own wardrobe, taking him to court. He continued to write to the lady. She feared that with so inexperienced a messenger the secret might leak out and add suspicions of promiscuity to her other worries. These were very grand messages, but something more in keeping with her station seemed called for. Her answers were stiff and formal when she answered at all. She could not forget his extraordinary good looks and elegance, so dimly seen that night. But she belonged to another, and nothing was to be gained by trying to