Read it through once

For Lady Akikonomu he had done all and more than all that he led her to expect, and she had already become a prominent figure at Court. During the autumn, having been granted leave of absence from the Palace, she came to stay for a while at the Nijō-in. She was given the Main Hall, and found everything decked with the gayest colours in honour of her arrival. She assumed in the household the place of a favourite elder daughter, and it was entirely in this spirit that Genji entertained and amused her. One day when the autumn rain was falling steadily and the dripping flowers in the garden seemed to be washed to one dull tinge of grey, memories of long forgotten things came crowding one after another to Genji’s mind, and with eyes full of tears he betook himself to Lady Akikonomu’s rooms. Not a touch of colour relieved the dark of his mourner’s dress, and on pretext of doing penance for the sins of the nation during the recent disorders he carried a rosary under his cloak; yet he contrived to wear even this dour, penitential garb with perfect elegance and grace, and it was with a fine sweep of the cloak that he now entered the curtained alcove where she sat. He came straight to her side and, with only a thin latticed screen between them, began to address her without waiting to be announced: ‘What an unfortunate year this is! It is too bad that we should get weather like this just when everything in the garden is at its best. Look at the flowers. Are not you sorry for them? They came when it was their turn, and this is the way they are welcomed.’ He leant upon the pillar of her seat, the evening light falling upon him as he turned towards her. They had many memories in common; did she still recall, he asked, that terrible morning when he came to visit her mother at the Palace-in-the-fields? ‘Too much my thoughts frequent those vanished days,’ she quoted,[35] and her eyes filled with tears. Already he was thinking her handsome and interesting, when for some reason she rose and shifted her position, using her limbs with a subtle grace that made him long to see her show them to better advantage.... But stay! Ought such thoughts to be occurring to him? ‘Years ago,’ he said, ‘at a time when I might have been far more happily employed, I became involved, entirely through my own fault, in a number of attachments, all of the most unfortunate kind, with the result that I never knew an instant’s peace of mind. Among these affairs there were two which were not only, while they lasted, far more distressing than the rest, but also both ended under a dark cloud of uncharitableness and obstinacy. The first was with Lady Rokujō, your mother. The fact that she died still harbouring against me feelings of the intensest bitterness will cast a shadow over my whole life, and my one consolation is that in accordance with her wishes, I have been able to do something towards helping _you_ in the world. But that by any act of mine the flame of her love should thus forever have been stifled will remain the greatest sorrow of my life.’ He had mentioned two affairs; but he decided to leave the other part of his tale untold and continued: ‘During the period when my fortunes were in eclipse I had plenty of time to think over all these things and worked out a new plan which I hoped would make every one satisfied and happy. It was in pursuance of this plan that I induced the Lady from the Village of Falling Flowers to take up residence in the new eastern wing. Her own resources are quite inadequate, and I used to feel very uncomfortable about her; it is a great relief to know that she is getting all she needs. Fortunately she is very easy to deal with, we understand each other perfectly and there is (or at any rate I hope so) complete satisfaction on both sides. Soon after I came back a great deal of my time began to be taken up in looking after the young Emperor and helping him to conduct the business of the State. I am not particularly interested in that sort of thing, but I was glad to be of use. It was only when it came to filling his Household that I found myself confronted with a task that was definitely uncongenial. I wonder whether you realize what very strong impulses of my own I had to overcome before I surrendered you to the Palace? You might at least tell me that you feel for me and are grateful; then I should no longer think that this sacrifice was made quite in vain....’ She was vexed. Why must he needs start talking in that strain? She made no reply. ‘Forgive me,’ he said; ‘I see that I have displeased you ...,’ and he began hastily to talk of other matters: ‘How much I should like to retire to some quiet place,—to know that for the rest of my life on earth I should have no more anxieties or cares and could devote myself for as long as I liked each day to preparation for the life to come. But of course all this would be very dull if one had nothing interesting to look back upon. There are many things to be thought of first. For example, I have young children, whose place in the world is very insecure; it will be a long time before I can establish them satisfactorily. And here you can be of great use to me; for should you—forgive me for speaking of such a thing— one day bring increase to his Majesty’s house, it would be in your power to render considerable services to my children, even though I should chance no longer to be with you.... It was evident that this sort of conversation was far more to her liking. She did not indeed say more than a word or two at a time; but her manner was friendly and encouraging, and they were still immersed in these domestic projects when darkness began to fall. ‘And when all these weighty matters are off my hands,’ said Genji at last, ‘I hope I shall have a little time left for things which I really enjoy—flowers, autumn leaves, the sky, all those day-to-day changes and wonders that a single year bring forth; that is what I looked forward to. Forests of flowering trees in Spring, the open country in Autumn.... Which do you prefer? It is of course useless to argue on such a subject, as has so often been done. It is a question of temperament. Each person is born with “his season” and is bound to prefer it. No one, you may be sure, has ever yet succeeded in convincing any one else on such a subject. In China it has always been the Spring-time with its “broidery of flowers” that has won the highest praise; here however the brooding melancholy of Autumn seems always to have moved our poets more deeply. For my own part I find it impossible to reach a decision; for much as I enjoy the music of birds and the beauty of flowers, I confess I seldom remember at what season I have seen a particular flower, heard this or that bird sing. But in this I am to blame; for even within the narrow compass of my own walls, I might well have learnt what sights and sounds distinguish each season of the year, having as you see not only provided for the springtime by a profusion of flowering trees, but also planted in my garden many varieties of autumn grass and shrub, brought in, root and all, from the countryside. Why, I have even carried hither whole tribes of insects that were wasting their shrill song in the solitude of lanes and fields. All this I did that I might be able to enjoy these things in the company of my friends, among whom you are one. Pray tell me then, to which season do you find that your preference inclines?’ She thought this a very difficult form of conversation; but politeness demanded some sort of reply and she said timidly: ‘But you have just said you can never yourself remember when it was you saw or heard the thing that pleased you most. How can you expect me to have a better memory? However, difficult as it is to decide, I think I agree with the poet[36] who found the dusk of an autumn evening “strangest and loveliest thing of all.” Perhaps I am more easily moved at such moments because, you know, it was at just such a time ...’ Her voice died away, and knowing well indeed what was in her mind Genji answered tenderly with the verse: ‘The world knows it not; but to you, oh Autumn, I confess it: your wind at night-fall stabs deep into my heart.’[37] ‘Sometimes I am near to thinking that I can hold out no longer,’ he added. To such words as these she was by no means bound to reply and even thought it best to pretend that she had not understood. This however had the effect of leading him on to be a little more explicit; and matters would surely have come a good deal further had she not at once shown in the most unmistakable manner her horror at the sentiments which he was beginning to profess. Suddenly he pulled himself up. He had been behaving with a childish lack of restraint. How fortunate that she at least had shown some sense! He felt very much cast down; but neither his sighs nor his languishing airs had any effect upon her. He saw that she was making as though to steal quietly and unobtrusively from the room, and holding her back he said: ‘I see that you are terribly offended; well, I do not deny that you have good cause. I ought not to be so impetuous; I know that it is wrong. But, granted I spoke far too suddenly—it is all over now. Do not, I beg of you, go on being angry with me; for if you are unkind....’[38] And with that he retired to his own quarters. Even the scent of his richly perfumed garments had become unendurable to her; she summoned her maids and bade them open the window and door. ‘Just come over here and smell the cushion that his Highness was sitting on!’ one of them called to another. ‘What an exquisite fragrance! How he contrives to get hold of such scents I simply cannot imagine. “If the willow-tree had but the fragrance of the plum and the petals of the cherry!” So the old poet wished, and surely Prince Genji must be the answer to his prayer, for it seems that in him every perfection is combined.’