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

by Murasaki Shikibu

  Since his love longed to take the tonsure, he cut a token lock of her hair to give her the strength to observe the Five Precepts, and he allowed her to receive them.102 The officiating priest enlarged so nobly on the merit of abstaining from these things that Genji, seated closer to her than was really becoming, wiped the tears from his eyes again and again, and they both called with all their heart upon the Buddha. In this way he demonstrated how little even the wisest in this world can remain composed when overwhelmed by sorrow. Through days and nights of anguish he thought only of how to save her and keep her from leaving him, his face acquiring as he did so something of the gaunt look of the obsessed.

  She never felt quite herself during the fifth month, when the skies are so seldom clear, but she was a little better than before; even so, though, she was constantly unwell. Genji had a complete copy of the Lotus Sutra made and dedicated for the spirit each day, to expunge its sin, and he daily commissioned other holy works as well. He arranged a perpetual reading of the scriptures at her pillow, too, though only by priests with inspiring voices. Having once appeared, the spirit declared its complaint again from time to time, but it never left her. With the onset of warmer weather her breathing became irregular, and to his unspeakable anxiety she became even weaker. Even in her semiconscious condition she observed the state he was in with pity. For herself the thought of dying called forth no regrets, but it would be too selfish of her to make him look on her lifeless body when he was plainly in such distress already, and she therefore summoned the courage to sip medicinal infusions; and perhaps that is why by the sixth month she could sometimes even lift her head. He watched her with wonder, but he still felt a great dread, and he never once called at Rokujō.

  Immediately after suffering that most painful intrusion, Her Highness changed and began to feel unwell. Her condition gave no cause for alarm, but the next month she started refusing all food, and she looked very pale and ill. The culprit would come to her as though in a dream, whenever he was mastered by an excess of desire, but she found his visits infinitely repellent. She lived in terror of His Grace, and this young man was very far from being His Grace's equal, either in his person or in the weight of his rank. No doubt he was thoroughly stylish and elegant, and to any ordinary eyes clearly superior to the common run of men, but she had been accustomed ever since she was a girl to a gentleman quite unlike any other, and his presence only offended her. It was unhappy karma indeed that she should now continually feel ill. Her nurses noted her condition and whispered bitter complaints that His Grace came to see her so seldom.

  The news that she was indisposed brought Genji to her. His love, whom the heat troubled, had had her hair washed and was feeling somewhat refreshed. It was slow to dry, since she lay with it spread out all around her, but not a strand was tangled or out of place, and it had a beautifully supple richness; meanwhile, despite her pallor, her skin was so exquisitely white as to seem almost transparent, and she made an utterly enchanting sight. She still looked as frail as a cicada shell. It had been a long time since she last lived in the house, and the place needed work and felt quite cramped. She looked out with new pleasure on the stream and garden, which had been carefully redone now that lately her mind was clear again, and she found herself surprised to be still alive.

  The beautifully cool-looking lake was covered with flowering lotuses, and dewdrops shone like jewels on the deep green leaves. “Look at that!” Genji said. “They look nice and cool anyway!” She sat up and followed his gaze, which was a wonder so rare that he went on with tears in his eyes, “It is almost a dream to see you like this! You know, I often felt as though I, too, would soon be gone.”

  She responded with equal feeling,

  “Will I last as long as those swiftly vanished drops? The time I have still

  can hardly outlast the life dew has on a lotus leaf.”

  He replied,

  “Let us promise, then, that not in this life alone but beyond it, too,

  we both shall still share as one the lotus leaves' pearls of dew.”103

  His next destination was a place where he did not wish to go, but His Majesty and His Cloistered Eminence would both learn of his doings, and it had been several days since he heard that Her Highness was unwell, so he went after all. His distress over the lady before him meant that he had hardly seen her, and he knew that he could not remain absent even during this break in the clouds.

  Her Highness, tormented by conscience, was ashamed to appear in his presence. She answered nothing he said, which he took with a pang of sympathy for a hidden reproach over how long it had been, and he strove to lighten her mood. He also summoned a senior gentlewoman to inquire after her health. “My lady is in a delicate condition, my lord,” the woman replied and went on to describe the symptoms.

  “Strange! How extraordinary, after all this time!” He said no more, but he reflected silently that this had not happened with the others he had known so much longer, and he found the news all but impossible to believe. For that reason he therefore said nothing about it to Her Highness and only considered tenderly how sweet she looked when unwell.

  It had taken him so long to make up his mind to come that he did not go straight back again but instead stayed for two or three days, which he spent constantly worrying and writing letters. “What a lot he has to say!” remarked those who did not know of their mistress's slip. “This does not bode well!” The one who felt truly alarmed was Kojijū.

  The news of Genji's presence there provoked the gentleman in question to an insolent misapprehension, and he sent Her Highness a long letter full of strong expressions of feeling. Kojijū secretly showed it to her when Genji was off for a moment in the east wing and no one else was about.

  “I wish you would not show me these horrid things!” Her Highness lay down. “They only make me feel worse.”

  “Do read it, though, my lady! The beginning here makes one feel so sorry for him!” Kojijū had just spread out the letter when she heard Genji coming back and got a fright; she drew up the standing curtain and fled. In he came, to Her Highness's consternation, and since she could not hide the letter properly, she slipped it under her cushion.

  He took leave of her in preparation for returning that night to Nijō. “Here at Rokujō you do not seem really to be very ill,” he said, “whereas at Nijō I felt when I left her that she was extremely weak, and I am very anxious about her. Do not for a moment believe the unpleasant things people may tell you. You will soon have reason to think better of me.” She usually prattled merrily to him, but this time she was thoroughly gloomy and would not meet his eyes properly, which he took for mere pique. He lay down in her day sitting room and chatted with her until the sun finally set.

  He had dropped off to sleep for a moment when a cicada broke into loud song and woke him up. “Very well, then,” he said, putting his cloak back on, “I might as well be on my way before the path becomes too shadowy.”104

  “It says, ‘Await the moon,’ though, doesn't it?” she replied in a youthful tone that was really quite nice. I suppose she means, “I shall have you that much longer,” he thought guiltily while preparing to leave.

  “You whose ears ring, too, with the cicadas' shrilling, will you leave me now

  as though to say, ‘Soak your sleeves in the cruel evening dew'?”

  Her words conveyed the naive quality of her feelings so sweetly that he sat down again and heaved a frustrated sigh.

  “How, then, may it sound in that village over there, where another waits?

  Alas, the cicada's song brings torment on either hand!”

  he answered, now irresolute. It was too painful to be that cruel to her, and he decided to stay. Still, he remained anxious and abstracted, and he took no more than fruit and so on before going to bed.

  He arose early, meaning to set off while the morning was still cool. “I dropped that fan I had yesterday,” he said. “This one does not give as nice a breeze.” He put it down and looked around the room
where he had taken that nap the day before. There, protruding from beneath Her Highness's slightly disturbed cushion, was the end of a rolled-up letter on thin, light green paper. Thinking no harm, he slipped it out and had a look. The hand was a man's. The paper had a delicious fragrance, and the letter seemed to have been prepared with great care. He noticed that there were two sheets, both completely covered with writing. Yes, he saw, the writing was his, there was no doubt about it. The woman who put up the mirror for him assumed that the letter was his own and thought nothing of it, but Kojijū felt her heart pound thunderously when she saw him and recognized the color of the letter that had come the day before. No! she cried to herself without looking at Genji, who was eating his breakfast. No, no, it cannot be! This is a catastrophe! But is it possible? She must have hidden it! Meanwhile Her Highness innocently slept on. What a baby she is, Genji thought, to leave something like that lying about where someone might find it! His respect for her sank. I was right after all. I always worried that she seemed to have no sense.

  Kojijū went to Her Highness once he was gone and the women had drifted away a little. “My lady, what did you do with that letter yesterday? This morning His Grace was looking at one almost the same color.”

  Her Highness wept and wept from the shock. Kojijū commiserated with her, but she also could not help thinking how hopeless she was. “Where did you put it, my lady? People were coming, and I had rather a bad conscience, so I withdrew because I did not want it to look as though we were up to something. His Grace came in a little after that. I was sure that you must have hidden it.”

  “Why, no. He came in while I was reading it. I could not put it away that fast, so I slipped it under where I was sitting. Then I forgot all about it.”

  Kojijū was speechless. She went to her mistress and looked around her, but of course it was not there. Then she gave her a piece of her mind. “Oh, my lady, how awful! The gentleman was absolutely terrified, and he dreaded the very idea that His Grace might ever hear of it! It is all so recent, and look what has already happened! You allowed him to see you, in that childish way you have, and far from forgetting it, he has pursued me ever since with his complaints; but did I ever imagine it would come to this? This means disaster for you both!” She must have spoken this way because Her Highness was so young and meek. Her Highness just went on crying and never answered a word.

  She now looked distinctly ill and refused to eat. “To think that he has abandoned her, when she is so unwell, to tend someone else who is all better by now!” the women complained.

  The letter still puzzled Genji, and he read it over and over again where no one could see him. He even wondered whether it had been written by a gentlewoman of hers whose hand resembled the Counselor's, but its language was too accomplished for that. No, it could only be his. His account of how he had at last satisfied his long-cherished desire, and of his sufferings thereafter, was beautiful and moving, but was it really necessary for him to spell it all out that way? What a letter for such a man to write! he said to himself. Even years ago, when I myself might easily have written with this degree of passion, I knew perfectly well that a letter could go astray, and I was brief and indirect. That degree of caution is not easy. Genji found it impossible to have much respect for him.

  What am I to do with her now, though? This is why she is in this delicate condition of hers! Ah, what a disaster! Shall I to go on with her as before, now that I have seen the awful truth with my own eyes? He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt but found that he could not. It is bad enough when a woman one never much liked, a passing amusement, turns out to be involved with somebody else, and one then loses interest in her; but in this case, to think of the insolence of the man! In early times as well there were those who might violate an Emperor's wife, but that was different. No wonder liaisons like that may occur, when there are so many people in palace service waiting on the Sovereign. What with one thing and another it must happen quite often. Even a Consort or an Intimate may err for this reason or that. They are not all as serious as they might be, and strange things happen, but as long as no obvious lapse comes to light the man can carry on as before, and it may be ages before anyone finds out. I honor her above anyone else and sacrifice my personal feelings to treat her with the highest respect, and she just sets me aside? Why, I have never heard of such a thing! He snapped his fingers in anger.

  When a woman wearies of giving her service meekly and all too respectably, even to the Emperor himself, she may yield after all to urgent pleas, love where she is loved, respond when she feels she must, and so embark on an affair that might well be as culpable as this one, but at least it would make some sense! Look at who I am! I cannot imagine how she could share her affections with a man like that! He realized bitterly that despite his fury he could not afford to show it, and he thought of his father, His Late Eminence. Did he really know all the time and just pretend not to? That, yes, that was a fearful and a heinous crime! Reflection on his own example suggested that he was in no position to criticize someone else lost in the mountains of love.105

  Despite his pretense that all was well, he was obviously upset. His love, who took it that he had come to her despairing that she was gone, assumed that this time he could not help feeling sorry for Her Highness instead. “I am quite well now,” she said, “but I am sure that Her Highness is not, and I wish you had not come back so soon.”

  “You are right. Her condition is somewhat unusual, but it is hard to say just what the matter is, so I felt that I need not really worry. There have been several messengers from His Majesty. I gather another letter came from him today. His Eminence has been imploring him to do all he can for her, and that is probably why he is so concerned. I am afraid the slightest neglect on my part could earn me the disapproval of both.” He sighed.

  “The idea that she herself may be angry with you bothers me more than anything His Majesty may feel. It might never occur to her on her own, but there are certainly people who put the worst light on things to her, and I do not like that at all.”

  “Ah, yes, you have no relatives to hound me—you mean quite enough to me already—but look how deeply you understand things! You even consider how her women may feel, while all I do is fear to displease our exalted Sovereign. How shallow can one be?” He smiled and turned their conversation elsewhere. “I will go when you can go with me,” he said on the subject of returning to Her Highness. “Let us just make ourselves comfortable here.”

  “I should like to be quiet here a little longer. Go on ahead, and I shall follow once she feels better about you.” Days went by while they continued their debate.

  In the past Her Highness had resented it when Genji stayed away for days on end, but this time she knew that the fault was partly her own, and she recoiled from the thought of how His Eminence would feel if he were to learn the truth.

  The gentleman in question kept up a stream of impassioned messages until Kojijū, at her wits' end, explained what had happened. He was aghast. When can it have been? I always assumed that a thing like this might get out in time, which is humiliating enough—I feel the eye of Heaven upon me. But that His Grace should have seen such damning proof! Shame, dread, remorse—morning or evening there was no relief then from the heat, but he felt frozen, and his thoughts were beyond words. All these years His Grace has been calling me to him on every occasion, serious or merry, and I have always gone. How good and kind he has been to single me out that way for such unusual attention! How can I ever look him in the eye again, when he now abhors me for my heinous misdeed? It will look strange, though, if I simply vanish and never go there anymore, and just imagine the conclusions he himself may draw! Sick with anguish, he gave up going to court. There would be no formal punishment for what he had done, but it seemed to him that his life was ruined, for which he hated himself, since he had always known this might happen. It is not as though she has any dignity or depth, after all! What business did she have letting herself be seen that way in the
first place, past that blind? He could tell that the Commander had thought her careless. No doubt he wanted to dwell on the worst things about her so as to put her out of his mind. It may look very nice for her to be so excessively mild and ladylike, but she knows nothing of life, and she never gives a thought to keeping an eye on her women, which just invites disaster, not only for herself, poor thing, but for other people as well. He could not rid himself of his tender sympathy for her.

  Her Highness's suffering was sweetly touching, and although Genji was fed up, he still felt tenderly enough to go and see her. What he found whenever he did so caused him sharp pangs of pity, and he commissioned all sorts of prayers on her behalf. He did not change in his overt treatment of her—in fact, he redoubled his attentions and his marks of respect—but this was only to keep up appearances, because in private he remained excruciatingly aloof. His conflicting feelings meant anguish for her as well. He never even told her what he had read, which left her as crushed as a little girl. I suppose that is just what she is like, he told himself. It is all very well for her to be ladylike, but she is too agonizingly slow to be trusted. Yes, the world is a perilous place. Our Consort is so meek and mild that she would probably be confused, too, if anyone were that desperate to have her. Men look down on women for being pliant and moody, and I suppose that is why they lose control of themselves when they suddenly take an outrageous fancy to one. The Minister of the Right's wife106 grew up wandering dim and distant regions without any real support at all, but she is quick and intelligent. I was a father to her for the most part, but there were also times when I had quite different thoughts, and she still managed to pretend not to notice and to let it pass. When His Excellency prevailed on an unthinking gentlewoman to help him make his way in to her, she made sure everyone understood clearly that she had had nothing to do with it, that what was happening had full authorization, and that for her own part she was completely blameless. Looking back on it now, I can appreciate how very shrewd she was. It was their destiny to be together, and never mind how it began, as long as it lasts; but people would think a little less well of her if they retained the impression that she had willingly acquiesced. She really did it very, very well.