14

He too was very handsome, and Naishi thought him not at all poor consolation for the loss of Genji. Yet (one finds it hard to condone such greed) Genji was the one she really wanted.

Since To~ no Chu~jo~ was secretive, Genji did not know that he had been replaced. Whenever Naishi caught sight of him she showered him with reproaches. He pitied her in her declining years and would have liked to do something for her, but was not inclined to trouble himself greatly.

One evening in the cool after a shower he was strolling past the Ummeiden Pavilion. Naishi was playing on her lute, most appealingly. She was a unique mistress of the instrument, invited sometimes to join men in concerts before the emperor. Unrequited love gave her playing tonight an especial poignancy.

“Shall I marry the melon farmer?” * she was singing, in very good voice.

Though not happy at the thought of having a melon farmer supplant him, he stopped to listen. Might the song of the maiden of E-chou, long ago, have had the same plaintive appeal?+ Naishi seemed to have fallen into a meditative silence. Humming “The Eastern Cottage,” # he came up to her door. She joined in as he sang: “Open my door and come in.” Few women would have been so bold.

“No one waits in the rain at my eastern cottage.

Wet are the sleeves of the one who waits within.”

It did not seem right, he thought, that he should be the victim of such reproaches. Had she not yet, after all these years, learned patience?

“On closer terms with the eaves of your eastern cottage

I would not be, for someone is there before me.”

He would have preferred to move on, but, remembering his manners, decided to accept her invitation. For a time they exchanged pleasant banter. All very novel, thought Genji.

To~ no Chu~jo~ had long resented Genji's self-righteous way of chiding him for his own adventures. The proper face Genji showed the world seemed to hide rather a lot. To~ no Chu~jo~ had been on the watch for an opportunity to give his friend a little of what he deserved. Now it had come. The sanctimonious one would now be taught a lesson.

It was late, and a chilly wind had come up. Genji had dozed off, it seemed. To~ no Chu~jo~ slipped into the room. Too nervous to have more than dozed off, Genji heard him, but did not suspect who it would be. The superintendent of palace repairs, he guessed, was still visiting her. Not for the world would he have had the old man catch him in the company of the old woman.

“This is a fine thing. I'm going. The spider surely told you to expect him,* and you didn't tell me.”

He hastily gathered his clothes and hid behind a screen. Fighting back laughter, To~ no Chu~jo~ gave the screen an unnecessarily loud thump and folded it back. Naishi had indulged her amorous ways over long years and had had similarly disconcerting experiences often enough before. What did this person have in mind? What did he mean to do to her Genji? She fluttered about seeking to restrain the intruder. Still ignorant of the latter's identity, Genji thought of headlong flight; but then he thought of his own retreating figure, robes in disorder, cap all askew. Silently and wrathfully, To~ no Chu~jo~ was brandishing a long sword.

“Please, sir, please.”

Naishi knelt before him wringing her hands. He could hardly control the urge to laugh. Her youthful smartness had taken a great deal of contriving, but she was after all nearly sixty. She was ridiculous, hopping back and forth between two handsome young men. To~ no Chu~jo~ was playing his role too energetically. Genji guessed who he was. He guessed too that this fury had to do with the fact that he was himself known. It all seemed very stupid and very funny. He gave the arm wielding the sword a stout pinch and To~ no Chu~jo~ finally surrendered to laughter.

“You are insane,” said Genji. “And these jokes of yours are dangerous. Let me have my clothes, if you will.”

But To~ no Chu~jo~ refused to surrender them.

“Well, then, let's be undressed together.” Genji undid his friend's belt and sought to pull off his clothes, and as they disputed the matter Genji burst a seam in an underrobe.

“Your fickle name so wants to be known to the world

That it bursts its way through this warmly disputed garment.

“It is not your wish, I am sure, that all the world should notice.” *

Genji replied: “You taunt me, sir, with being a spectacle When you know full well that your own summer robes are showy.”

Somewhat rumpled, they went off together, the best of friends.