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. Discommoded 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 I. 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 acceptable.
“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 moment 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 Sanjō. 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 Chūnagon 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 gentleman.
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 Sanjō, 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
