3

The matriculation ceremonies were held in the east lodge at Nijo~, the east wing of which was fitted out for the occasion. It was a rare event. Courtiers crowded round to see what a matriculation might be like. The professors must have been somewhat astonished.

“You are to treat him exactly as the rules demand,” said Genji. “Make no exceptions.”

The academic assembly was a strange one, solemn of countenance, badly fitted in borrowed clothes, utterly humorless of word and manner, yet given to jostling for place. Some of the younger courtiers were laughing. Fearing that that would be the case, Genji had insisted that the professorial cups be kept full by older and better-controlled men. Even so, To~ no Chu~jo~ and Prince Mimbu* were reprimanded by the learned gentlemen.+

“Most inadequate, these libation pourers. Do they propose to conduct the affairs of the land without the advice of the sages? Most inadequate indeed.”

There came gusts of laughter.

“Silence, if you please. Silence is called for Such improprieties are unheard of. We must ask your withdrawal.”

Everyone thought the professors rather fun. For courtiers who had themselves been to the university the affair was most satisfying. It was very fine indeed that Genji should see fit to give his son a university education. The professors put down merriment with a heavy hand and made unfavorable note of other departures from strict decorum. Yet as the night wore on, the lamps revealed something a little different, a little clownish, perhaps, or forlorn, under the austere professorial masks. It was indeed an unusual assembly.

“I am afraid, sirs, that I am the oaf you should be scolding,” said Genji, withdrawing behind a blind. “I am quite overcome.”

Learning that there had not been places enough for all the scholars, he had a special banquet laid out in the angling pavilion.