UTSUSEMI
Genji was still sleepless. ‘No one has ever disliked me before’ he
whispered to the boy. ‘It is more than I can bear. I am sick of myself
and of the world, and do not want to go on living any more.’ This
sounded so tragic that the boy began to weep. The smallness and
delicacy of his build, even the way in which his hair was cropped,
gave him an astonishing resemblance to his sister, thought Genji, who
found his sympathy very endearing. At times he had half thought of
creeping away from the boy’s side and searching on his own account for
the lady’s hiding-place; but soon abandoned a project which would only
have involved him in the most appalling scandal. So he lay, waiting
for the dawn. At last, while it was still dark, so full of his own
thoughts that he quite forgot to make his usual parting speech to his
young page, he left the house. The boy’s feelings were very much hurt,
and all that day he felt lonely and injured. The lady, when no answer
came from Genji, thought that he had changed his mind, and though she
would have been very angry if he had persisted in his suit, she was
not quite prepared to lose him with so little ado.
But this was a good opportunity once and for all to lock up her heart
against him. She thought that she had done so successfully, but found
to her surprise that he still occupied an uncommonly large share of
her thoughts. Genji, though he felt it would have been much better
to put the whole business out of his head, knew that he had not the
strength of mind to do so and at last, unable to bear his wretchedness
any longer he said to the boy ‘I am feeling very unhappy. I keep on
trying to think of other things, but my thoughts will not obey me. I
can struggle no longer. You must watch for a suitable occasion, and
then contrive some way of bringing me into the presence of your
sister.’ This worried the boy, but he was inwardly flattered at the
confidence which Genji placed in him. And an opportunity soon
presented itself.
Ki no Kami had been called away to the provinces, and there were only
women in the house. One evening when dusk had settled upon the quiet
streets the boy brought a carriage to fetch him. He knew that the lad
would do his best, but not feeling quite safe in the hands of so young
an accomplice, he put on a disguise, and then in his impatience, not
waiting even to see the gates closed behind him, he drove off at top
speed. They entered unobserved at a side-gate, and here he bade Genji
descend. The brother knew that as he was only a boy, the watchman and
gardeners would not pay any particular attention to his movements, and
so he was not at all uneasy. Hiding Genji in the porch of the
double-door of the eastern wing, he purposely banged against the
sliding partition which separated this wing from the main part of the
house, and that the maids might have the impression he did not mind
who heard him enter he called out crossly ‘Why is the door shut on a
hot night like this?’ ‘“My lady of the West”[1] has been here since
this morning, and she is playing _go_ with my other lady.’ Longing to
catch sight of her, even though she were with a companion, Genji stole
from his hiding-place, and crept through a gap in the curtains. The
partition door through which the boy had passed was still open,
and he could see through it, right along the corridor into the room on
the other side. The screen which protected the entrance of this room
was partly folded, and the curtains which usually concealed the divan
had, owing to the great heat, been hooked up out of the way, so that
he had an excellent view.
The lady sitting near the lamp, half-leaning against the middle pillar
must, he supposed, be his beloved. He looked closely at her. She
seemed to be wearing an unlined, dark purple dress, with some kind of
scarf thrown over her shoulders. The poise of her head was graceful,
but her extreme smallness had the effect of making her seem somewhat
insignificant. She seemed to be trying all the while to hide her face
from her companion, and there was something furtive about the
movements of her slender hands, which she seemed never to show for
more than a moment.
Her companion was sitting right opposite him, and he could see her
perfectly. She wore an underdress of thin white stuff, and thrown
carelessly over it a cloak embroidered with red and blue flowers. The
dress was not fastened in front, showing a bare neck and breast,
showing even the little red sash which held up her drawers. She had
indeed an engagingly free and easy air. Her skin was very white and
delicate, she was rather plump, but tall and well built. The poise of
her head and angle of her brow were faultless, the expression of her
mouth and eyes was very pleasing and her appearance altogether most
delightful. Her hair grew very thick, but was cut short so as to hang
on a level with her shoulders. It was very fine and smooth. How
exciting it must be to have such a girl for one’s daughter! Small
wonder if Iyo no Kami was proud of her. If she was a little less
restless, he thought, she would be quite perfect.
The game was nearly over, she was clearing away the unwanted pieces.
She seemed to be very excitable and was making a quite unnecessary
commotion about the business. ‘Wait a little’ said her companion very
quietly, ‘here there is a stalemate. My only move is to counter-attack
over there....’ ‘It is all over’ said the other impatiently ‘I am
beaten, let us count the score;’ and she began counting, ‘ten, twenty,
thirty, forty’ on her fingers. Genji could not help remembering the
old song about the wash-house at Iyo (‘eight tubs to the left, nine
tubs to the right’) and as this lady of Iyo, determined that nothing
should be left unsettled, went on stolidly counting her losses and
gains, he thought her for the moment slightly common. It was strange
to contrast her with Utsusemi,[2] who sat silent, her face
half-covered, so that he could scarcely discern her features. But when
he looked at her fixedly, she, as though uneasy under this gaze of
which she was not actually aware, shifted in her seat, and showed him
her full profile. Her eyelids gave the impression of being a little
swollen, and there was at places a certain lack of delicacy in the
lines of her features, while her good points were not visible. But
when she began to speak, it was as though she were determined to make
amends for the deficiencies of her appearance and show that she had,
if not so much beauty, at any rate more sense than her companion.
The latter was now flaunting her charms with more and more careless
abandonment. Her continual laughter and high spirits were certainly
rather engaging, and she seemed in her way to be a most entertaining
person. He did not imagine that she was very virtuous, but that was
far from being altogether a disadvantage.
It amused him very much to see people behaving quite naturally
together. He had lived in an atmosphere of ceremony and reserve.
This peep at everyday life was a most exciting novelty, and though he
felt slightly uneasy at spying in this deliberate way upon two persons
who had no notion that they were observed, he would gladly have gone
on looking, when suddenly the boy, who had been sitting by his
sister’s side, got up, and Genji slipped back again into his proper
hiding-place. The boy was full of apologies at having left him waiting
for so long: ‘But I am afraid nothing can be done to-day; there is
still a visitor in her room.’ ‘And am I now to go home again? ‘said
Genji; ‘that is really too much to ask.’ ‘No, no, stay here, I will
try what can be done, when the visitor has gone.’ Genji felt quite
sure that the boy would manage to find some way of cajoling his
sister, for he had noticed that though a mere child, he had a way of
quietly observing situations and characters, and making use of his
knowledge.
The game of _go_ must now be over. A rustling of skirts and pattering
of feet showed that the household was not retiring to rest. ‘Where is
the young master?’ Genji heard a servant saying, ‘I am going to fasten
this partition door,’ and there was the sound of bolts being slipped.
‘They have all gone to bed’ said Genji, ‘now is the time to think of a
plan.’ The boy knew that it would be no use arguing with his sister or
trying beforehand in any way to bend her obstinate resolution. The
best thing to be done under the circumstances was to wait till no one
was about, and then lead Genji straight to her. ‘Is Ki no Kami’s
sister still here?’ asked Genji, ‘I should like just to catch a
glimpse of her.’ ‘But that is impossible’ said the boy ‘She is in my
sister’s room.’ ‘Indeed’ said Genji, affecting surprise. For though he
knew very well where she was he did not wish to show that he had
already seen her. Becoming very impatient of all these delays, he
pointed out that it was growing very late, and there was no time to be
lost.
The boy nodded, and tapping on the main door of the women’s quarters,
he entered. Everyone was sound asleep. ‘I am going to sleep in the
ante-room’ the boy said out loud; ‘I shall leave the door open so as
to make a draught;’ and so saying he spread his mattress on the
ground, and for a while pretended to be asleep. Soon however, he got
up and spread a screen as though to protect him from the light, and
under its shadow Genji slipped softly into the room.
Not knowing what was to happen next, and much doubting whether any
good would come of the venture, with great trepidation he followed the
boy to the curtain that screened the main bedroom, and pulling it
aside entered on tip-toe. But even in the drab garments which he had
chosen for his disguise, he seemed to the boy to cut a terribly
conspicuous figure as he passed through the midnight quietness of the
house.
Utsusemi meanwhile had persuaded herself that she was very glad Genji
had forgotten to pay his threatened visit. But she was still haunted
by the memory of their one strange and dreamlike meeting, and was in
no mood for sleep. But near her, as she lay tossing, the lady of the
_go_ party, delighted by her visit and all the opportunities it had
afforded for chattering to her heart’s content, was already asleep.
And as she was young and had no troubles she slept very soundly. The
princely scent which still clung to Genji’s person reached the bed.
Utsusemi raised her head, and fancied that she saw something move
behind a part of the curtain that was only of one thickness. Though it
was very dark she recognized Genji’s figure. Filled with a sudden
terror and utter bewilderment, she sprang from the bed, threw a
fragile gauze mantle over her shoulders, and fled silently from the
room.
A moment later Genji entered. He saw with delight that there was only
one person in the room, and that the bed was arranged for two. He
threw off his cloak, and advanced towards the sleeping figure. She
seemed a more imposing figure than he had expected, but this did not
trouble him. It did indeed seem rather strange that she should be so
sound asleep. Gradually he realized with horror that it was not she at
all. ‘It is no use’ thought Genji ‘saying that I have come to the
wrong room, for I have no business anywhere here. Nor is it worth
while pursuing my real lady, for she would not have vanished like this
if she cared a straw about me.’ What if it were the lady he had seen
by the lamplight? She might not after all prove a bad exchange! But no
sooner had he thought this than he was horrified at his own frivolity.
She opened her eyes. She was naturally somewhat startled, but did not
seem to be at all seriously put out. She was a thoughtless creature in
whose life no very strong emotion had ever played a part. Hers was the
flippancy that goes with inexperience, and even this sudden visitation
did not seem very much to perturb her.
He meant at first to explain that it was not to see her that he had
come. But to do so would have been to give away the secret which
Utsusemi so jealously guarded from the world. There was nothing for
it, but to pretend that his repeated visits to the house, of which the
lady was well aware, had been made in the hope of meeting her! This
was a story which would not have withstood the most cursory
examination; but, outrageous as it was, the girl accepted it without
hesitation.
He did not by any means dislike her, but at that moment all his
thoughts were busy with the lady who had so mysteriously vanished. No
doubt she was congratulating herself in some safe hiding-place upon
the absurd situation in which she had left him. Really, she was the
most obstinate creature in the world! What was the use of running
after her? But all the same she continued to obsess him.
But the girl in front of him was young and gay and charming. They were
soon getting on very well together.
‘Is not this kind of thing much more amusing than what happens with
people whom one knows?’ asked Genji a little later. ‘Do not think
unkindly of me. Our meeting must for the present remain a secret. I am
in a position which does not always allow me to act as I please. Your
people too would no doubt interfere if they should hear of it, which
would be very tiresome. Wait patiently, and do not forget me.’ These
rather tepid injunctions did not strike her as at all unsatisfactory,
and she answered very seriously ‘I am afraid it will not be very easy
for me even to write to you. People would think it very odd.’ ‘Of
course we must not let ordinary people into our secret’ he answered,
‘but there is no reason why this little page should not sometimes
carry a message. Meanwhile not a word to anyone!’ And with that he
left her, taking as he did so Utsusemi’s thin scarf which had slipped
from her shoulders when she fled from the room.
He went to wake his page who was lying not far away. The boy sprang
instantly to his feet, for he was sleeping very lightly, not knowing
when his help might be required. He opened the door as quietly as he
could. ‘Who is that?’ someone called out in great alarm. It was the
voice of an old woman who worked in the house. ‘It is I’ answered the
boy uneasily. ‘What are you walking about here for at this time of
night?’ and scolding as she came, she began to advance towards the
door. ‘Bother her’ thought the boy, but he answered hastily ‘It’s all
right, I am only going outside for a minute;’ but just as Genji passed
through the door, the moon of dawn suddenly emerged in all her
brightness. Seeing a grown man’s figure appear in the doorway ‘Whom
have you got with you?’ the old lady asked, and then answering her own
question ‘Why it is Mimbu! what an outrageous height that girl has
grown to!’ and continuing to imagine that the boy was walking with
Mimbu, a maid-servant whose lankiness was a standing joke in the
house, ‘and you will soon be as big as she is, little Master!’ she
cried, and so saying came out through the door that they had just
passed through. Genji felt very uncomfortable, and making no answer on
the supposed Mimbu’s behalf, he stood in the shadow at the end of the
corridor, hiding himself as best he could. ‘You have been on duty,
haven’t you dear?’ said the old lady as she came towards them. ‘I have
been terribly bad with the colic since yesterday and was lying up, but
they were shorthanded last night, and I had to go and help, though I
did feel very queer all the while.’ And then, without waiting for them
to answer, ‘Oh, my pain, my poor pain’ she muttered ‘I can’t stop here
talking like this’ and she hobbled past them without looking up.
So narrow an escape made Genji wonder more than ever whether the whole
thing was worth while. He drove back to his house, with the boy riding
as his postillion.
Here he told him the story of his evening’s adventure. ‘A pretty mess
you made of it!’ And when he had finished scolding the boy for his
incompetence, he began to rail at the sister’s irritating prudishness.
The poor child felt very unhappy, but could think of nothing to say in
his own or his sister’s defence.
‘I am utterly wretched’ said Genji. ‘It is obvious that she would not
have behaved as she did last night unless she absolutely detested me.
But she might at least have the decency to send civil answers to my
letters. Oh, well, I suppose Iyo no Kami is the better man....’ So he
spoke, thinking that she desired only to be rid of him. Yet when
at last he lay down to rest, he was wearing her scarf hidden under his
dress. He had put the boy by his side, and after giving much vent to
his exasperation, he said at last ‘I am very fond of you, but I am
afraid in future I shall always think of you in connection with this
hateful business, and that will put an end to our friendship.’ He said
it with such conviction that the boy felt quite forlorn.
For a while they rested, but Genji could not sleep, and at dawn he
sent in haste for his ink-stone. He did not write a proper letter, but
scribbled on a piece of folded paper, in the manner of a writing
exercise, a poem in which he compared the scarf which she had dropped
in her flight to the dainty husk which the cicada sheds on some bank
beneath a tree.
The boy picked the paper up, and thrust it into the folds of his dress.
Genji was very much distressed at the thought of what the other lady’s
feelings must be; but after some reflection he decided that it would
be better not to send any message.
The scarf, to which still clung the delicate perfume of its owner, he
wore for long afterwards beneath his dress.
When the boy got home he found his sister waiting for him in very
ill-humour. ‘It was not your doing that I escaped from the odious
quandary in which you landed me! And even so pray what explanation can
I offer to my friend?’ ‘A fine little clown the Prince must think you
now. I hope you are ashamed of yourself.’
Despite the fact that both parties were using him so ill, the boy drew
the rescued verses from out the folds of his dress and handed them to
her. She could not forbear to read them. What of this discarded
mantle? Why should he speak of it? _The coat that the fishers of Iseo
left lying upon the shore ..._[3] those were the words that came into
her mind, but they were not the clue. She was sorely puzzled.
Meanwhile the Lady of the West[4] was feeling very ill at ease. She
was longing to talk about what had happened, but must not do so, and
had to bear the burden of her impatience all alone. The arrival of
Utsusemi’s brother put her into a great state of excitement. No letter
for her? she could not understand it at all, and for the first time a
cloud settled upon her gay confiding heart.
Utsusemi, though she had so fiercely steeled herself against his love,
seeing such tenderness hidden under the words of his message, again
fell to longing that she were free, and though there was no undoing
what was done she found it so hard to go without him that she took up
the folded paper and wrote in the margin a poem in which she said that
her sleeve, so often wet with tears, was like the cicada’s
dew-drenched wing.
[1] Ki no Kami’s sister, referred to later in the story as Nokiba no
Ogi.
[2] This name means ‘cicada ‘and is given to her later in the story in
reference to the scarf which she ‘discarded as a cicada sheds its
husk.’ But at this point it becomes grammatically important that she
should have a name and I therefore anticipate.
[3] Allusion to the old poem, ‘Does he know that since he left me my
eyes are wet as the coat that the fishers ... left lying upon the
shore?’
[4] The visitor.