The Tale of Genji: (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition) (Junichiro Breakdown of Genji)

by Murasaki Shikibu

  His Highness derived particular pleasure from the very dismay her unsuspecting innocence aroused in her, and, needless to say, he liked her still better with a somewhat greater measure of womanly sweetness. Distressed then to the point of pain that those endless mountain trails should put her almost beyond his reach, he assured her with deep feeling that she would always command his devotion, but she made nothing of any of it, whether for good or ill. A girl, however carefully sheltered, is likely to feel only moderate shyness or fear if she has been among more or less normally peopled surroundings and has had parents and brothers from whom to learn what men are like; but although the younger Princess had never been forbidden the company of others, she had always lived far off among the hills, and habitual isolation and reserve had made this new, unsought presence in her life very daunting indeed. She knew that she could only be an impossible rustic in every way, and her courage failed her at every attempt to pronounce the most trivial answer. Nevertheless, she was the one whose manner suggested the livelier intelligence and wit.

  “On the third night people have rice cakes,” the women reminded Her Highness, upon whom it then dawned that these would have to be made for the occasion. She hardly knew what orders to give while the work went on before her, and the way she blushed with embarrassment at being seen grandly directing things was utterly charming. Being the elder gave her the greater dignity and poise, but she really was very fond of her sister, and very kind.

  A letter came from the Counselor: “I would have come yesterday evening, were it not for chagrin that my devotion should have gone unrewarded. I know that I might make myself useful tonight, but that ignominious guard duty has left me feeling unwell, and in the end I have not been able to make up my mind to it.” Written with punctilious formality on Michinokuni paper, it arrived thoughtfully accompanied by cloth for the occasion, still unsewn, in many-colored rolls packed in several chests that he had sent to Ben and marked “For the Women.” It was all simply what had been available at Her Cloistered Highness's, and he seemed not to have managed to collect a great deal, for hidden underneath there were damasks and plain silk, while on top, apparently for the sisters, lay two very beautiful sets of robes. On a sleeve of one of the shifts she found, trite though it was,

  “Nightclothes you may need: no indeed, I cannot say we ever shared them,

  but I might ask you to wear at least this reproach from me.”

  To her this intensified the shame of both, whose mystery was now gone, and she struggled for words to answer him; meanwhile, one of the messengers ran off and disappeared. She detained a miserable servant to give him her reply:

  “At heart you and I may well be so much at one that nothing parts us,

  yet I would not wear from you any hint that we are joined.”

  It was a very ordinary effort, what with her agitation and the thoughts that troubled her so, but he who received it at last was pleased to be touched that she had expressed her feelings plainly.

  His Highness had gone to the palace, and that night he privately despaired at seeing no chance to get away. “There you are, still single,” Her Majesty admonished him, disliking that he lived so often at home, “and I gather that everyone is talking about what a gallant you are. One simply cannot approve. You would do well not to insist on acting just as you please. His Majesty is concerned about you as well.” Shattered, His Highness withdrew to his palace apartment, where he wrote and sent off a letter.

  He was still sunk in gloom when the Counselor arrived, and he received him with greater pleasure than usual; for, he thought, here at least is an ally. “What am I to do?” he lamented. “It seems to be getting dark, and I am at my wits' end.”

  The Counselor decided to probe his feelings. “It has been days since you were last at the palace,” he said, “and I expect that Her Majesty will be even more upset with you if you fail to stay and run off again. I was in the gentlewomen's sitting room, and I heard what she said. Secretly, I paled to imagine that troublesome service I did you earning me Their Majesties' undeserved censure.”

  “I would much rather not hear what she has to say on the subject!” His Highness replied. “Someone has been spreading rumors, I suppose. What have I done to deserve this sort of reproach? I tell you, I could do without being a man who has to mind his manners this way!” He really did seem to hate it.

  The Counselor pitied him. “You seem to be in trouble either way. For tonight, then, let me take the blame and risk my own good name. What about riding over the Kohata hills?44 I expect that will start more talk,45 but never mind.”

  It was quite dark by now, and His Highness could think of nothing else to do. He set out on horseback. “Unfortunately, I cannot accompany you,” the Counselor informed him, “but I shall do what I can for you here.” He was therefore the one who stayed on in attendance at the palace.

  He went to wait upon the Empress. “I heard His Highness go out,” she said. “He is completely impossible! What will people think? It is so awkward for me when His Majesty hears about this sort of thing, because he scolds me for not being strict enough with him.”

  Despite all her grown-up children, the quality of her presence suggested ever more delightful youth. Her Highness the First Princess must be very like her, he reflected, longing sometime at least to hear her voice this close. This sort of ease between people is what starts a gallant thinking forbidden thoughts, I suppose—when she is so near and familiar and yet inaccessible. Could any heart in all the world be as peculiar as mine? Still, once anyone has touched it, I am hers forever. Every one of the gentlewomen in Her Majesty's service had something in looks or wit to commend her, and some among their handsome company were very striking indeed, but he had resolved that none should disturb him, and he behaved perfectly correctly with them all. Certain of them purposely tempted him. Her Majesty set a tone of such calm and dignity that they were serene on the surface, but people are all different, and some still betrayed romantic leanings. Now pleased, now moved, he took it all as evidence of the world's fleeting ways.

  At Uji the night was growing late, and despite the Counselor's solemn assurances His Highness had still not arrived. Instead there was a letter from him. I knew it! Her Highness thought, and she was nursing her bitter hurt when he came after all, near midnight, as though racing the wild wind, the very picture of sweetly perfumed grace. How could she not think well of him? Surely even the bride understood that the time had come to yield a little. She looked quite lovely, and it seemed to him that, so perfectly dressed, she was truly without equal. That she should please even his eye, when he knew so many great ladies, and that in looks as in all other aspects of her person she should charm him so much more in intimacy—this brought broad, unabashed smiles to the rustic old women's faces. “What a shame it would have been to see so ravishing a young lady go to someone of no interest at all! He is perfect for her!” they all exclaimed to each other, meanwhile clucking with disapproval over their elder mistress's strange obstinacy.

  Her Highness looked them over without indulgence, old and faded as they were, in all the bright colors they had prepared and now wore so gracelessly. My own best years will soon be behind me, she reflected. In the mirror I see myself wasting away. It must never occur to these old women that they are unsightly. Their hair is thinning at the back, but that is nothing to them they dress up their front locks instead and put on a lot of bright makeup. I am not that bad yet, but perhaps I am only imagining that my eyes and nose will still do. These anxious thoughts ran through her mind while she lay looking out into the garden. The idea that she might be with anyone so dauntingly magnificent left her more and more aghast. Why, she said to herself, in a year or two I will have deteriorated even further! Look how little there is left of me! She held up a pitifully thin, weak hand and pondered again the sorrows of life.

  His Highness reflected on how difficult it had been to get away and realized with a sharp pang that coming here would never be easy; and he told his Princess what He
r Majesty had said. “Sometimes I will want to come and still not be able to,” he said, “but you must not worry. I would not have come all the way here tonight if I had the slightest thought of neglecting you. I threw caution to the winds because I was so worried that you might be upset and doubt my feeling for you. I shall not always be able to go about like this, though. I must make proper arrangements to bring you somewhere closer.” But despite these earnest assurances, his prediction that he would have to stay away sometimes led her to assume that what she had heard about him was true, and her plight filled her with sadness.

  When the sky began to lighten, he opened the double doors and invited her to come and look out with him. Banks of mist lent a particular poignancy to the scene, and his passionate heart responded with wonder and delight to this unusual dwelling, whence one looked out as always over white waves from the wake of dim passing boats piled high with brushwood. By the brightness spreading from the rim of the mountains, he saw now how truly lovely she was. She might have been the

  The Uji Bridge

  most treasured Princess in the land, although, being naturally partial, he did not doubt that his own sister was very attractive, too; and the longing to contemplate her beauty more at his ease was almost more than he could bear. He had a full view of the ancient Uji Bridge, with the river roaring by forbiddingly, and the clearing mist revealed more and more of the wild banks. How can you have lived so long in such a place? he murmured with tears in his eyes, and she felt thoroughly ashamed.

  All grace and elegance, he promised her his heart not just for this life but for all their lives to come, and despite the abruptness of what had happened, she found that she actually preferred him to the dauntingly serious Counselor whom she knew so much better. That gentleman had remained extraordinarily composed, his affections being engaged elsewhere, and this had made him rather awkward company; whereas after imagining His Highness with far greater awe, so much so that she shrank from answering a single line from him, she now found herself expecting to miss him if he was gone too long, and she could not help condemning her own inconstancy.

  His Highness's men were clearing their throats loudly to rouse him, and he was extremely anxious to return to the City before he should be caught out in full daylight. Again and again he reassured her about the nights he would have to spend far from her, much against his will.

  “The span will not fail, noble Maiden of the Bridge, that brings me to you,

  though tears many a long night moisten your lonely sleeves,”46

  he said, returning to linger with her when he found that he could not yet leave.

  “Must I wait and wait, always trusting your promise that the span will last,

  while an Uji River Bridge of distances divides us?”47

  She said no more, but the sorrow in her manner affected him unbearably.

  She watched him recede into the light of dawn, a figure to impress any young woman's heart, and the perfume that still lingered with her called forth many a secret stirring—yes, now she knew exactly what was what! The dawn was light enough to reveal things clearly, and the gentlewomen peeped out at him, too. “The Counselor is very kind,” they said, “but there is also something so unapproachable about him. Perhaps it is just knowing that His Highness is a step above him, but he really does have something quite special.”

  All the way there he kept remembering her sweetly sorrowing air, until his longing to go back risked compromising his dignity; but he was returning in secret so as not to start talk, and if he did that, he could not escape notice. He wrote to her at least daily. It seemed to Her Highness that he really was in earnest, yet day after day went by while he never came, and she who had decided not to court any such misery now pitied her sister still more than she did herself, though she feigned equanimity lest her sister lapse further into melancholy. Meanwhile she strengthened her resolve never, never to add this to the sum of her own griefs.

  The Counselor well knew how they must long for His Highness to come, and he felt his own fault in the matter keenly. While urging His Highness to action, he constantly sought to read his feelings from his face. He seemed so thoroughly dejected that the Counselor felt satisfied at least of his good intentions.

  It was the tenth of the ninth month, and the dreariness of moor and mountain came easily to mind. At dusk one day, with cold rain threatening and the sky all heavy, menacing cloud, His Highness fell prey to growing despair, for in the end he could not make up his mind what to do.48 Then the Counselor arrived, divining His Highness's mood. “‘What must it be like for them at Furu, in that mountain village’?”49 he said to rouse him. Very pleased, His Highness invited him to come, too, and as before they set out in a single carriage.

  The farther they went, the more easily they imagined what melancholy must prevail where they were going. They talked of nothing else all the way there. Damp from the cold rain that fell through the twilight gloom, they diffused into the dreary late-fall landscape as they passed an inexpressibly alluring fragrance that must have troubled many a mountain rustic's heart.

  All the women's whisperings of the past days were gone, and, wreathed in smiles, they prepared a room to welcome the Prince. They had got in touch with a few daughters, nieces, and so on, who had drifted off to respectable places in the City and had brought them back; and these foolish creatures, long contemptuous of the household, now marveled at so astonishing a caller. His arrival pleased Her Highness, but that other, trying presence with him troubled and constrained her, although she recognized when she compared them the rare depth and patience that made the Counselor so wholly unlike the Prince.

  His Highness was admitted and entertained with all the hospitality that the place afforded, while his companion, comfortably treated more as one of the household, raged nonetheless at having been relegated to a distant room suitable for a guest.50 Her Highness was sensitive after all to his displeasure, and she spoke to him through the sliding panel. “It is no joke,”51 he complained bitterly. “Is this the best you mean to do?” She understood and sympathized, but her sister's plight greatly depressed her, and she could only conclude that her new state was a very sad one. No, she told herself, I will not give in to his wishes! The man whose heart promises happiness will, I am sure, all too soon seem cruel enough. I shall not let such differences come between him and me, until each thinks less well of the other. He inquired about how His Highness was behaving, and she gave him such hints as to allow him to guess the truth. He explained with regret how much His Highness really did care, and how he himself constantly had his eye on him.

  After conversing more warmly than usual, she concluded, “Let us talk again once these new worries have passed and I am more at peace.” She was neither unpleasant nor distant, but the panel was securely shut. Very well, he decided, she would be horrified if I were to break it down, and besides, she must have something in mind—I cannot imagine her lightly giving herself to anyone else. His patience therefore won out in the end over his agitation.

  “It is just that I feel so uncomfortable,” he insisted. “With something between us like this I simply cannot say all I long to say. Do let me speak to you as I did once!”

  “My looks distress me more than they used to, and I would not wish you to find me unsightly. Why? I wonder.” He thought he heard a little laugh, which he found extremely appealing.

  “What will become of me once I allow you to give me hope?” he asked, amid many sighs. Dawn came for them, as always, as it comes for mountain pheasants.

  “I envy the Counselor apparently feeling so at home, as though he were lord and master here,” His Highness remarked, never imagining that his friend might still be spending his nights alone. The younger Princess was shocked.

  He had taken rather a risk to come, and he was extremely sorry and disappointed to have to go back so soon. The sisters, who did not understand this, wondered again in dismay what they had to look forward to and whether the younger one faced only mockery. Hers was indeed a
sad and distressing plight. There was nowhere at all in the City where she might move and remain undiscovered. As to Rokujō itself, His Excellency of the Right occupied one quarter of it, and he was so eager to give His Highness his Sixth Daughter—a prospect His Highness himself did not relish—that he would undoubtedly take a dim view of her. He made a practice of denouncing His Highness mercilessly as a profligate and voiced such complaints even to Their Majesties, and His Highness therefore had every reason to be cautious about bringing forward someone otherwise completely unknown. A common affair would actually have been easier to manage, since she could have become one of his gentlewomen. However, that was not the way he thought of her, for when the new reign came and things then went as Their Majesties hoped, he meant to raise her above all others;52 but alas, for the present, he could do nothing at all, despite the honor in which he held her.

  Curtains of a curtained bed

  The Counselor meant to receive the elder Princess with all due ceremony at Sanjō, once the work on the place was done. How true it is that many things are easier for a commoner! He felt very sorry for His Highness, who despite his unhappy passion could only steal off to Uji in secret, to the great distress of both. An unfortunate flurry of reproaches might ensue, he reflected, if word of His Highness's clandestine visits were to reach Her Majesty's ears, but that would do her no harm, and it really is too bad that, as it is, His Highness cannot even spend the whole night with her! How I should like to do something that really makes a difference for her! In that spirit he did not try very hard to conceal the truth.