3

The moon rose, there was wine, the talk was of old times. The mist-enshrouded moon was weirdly beautiful, and the breeze following gently upon the rain brought a soft perfume of plum blossoms. The mixture of scents inside the hall was magical.

It was the eve of the ceremony. The stewards' offices had brought musical instruments for a rehearsal. Guests had gathered in large numbers and flute and koto echoed through all the galleries. Kashiwagi, Ko~bai, and To~ no Chu~jo~'s other sons stopped by with formal greetings. Genji insisted that they join the concert. For Prince Hotaru there was a lute, for Genji a thirteen-stringed koto, for Kashiwagi, who had a quick, lively touch, a Japanese koto. Yu~giri took up a flute, and the high, clear strains, appropriate to the season, could scarcely have been improved upon. Beating time with a fan, Ko~bai was in magnificent voice as he sang “A Branch of Plum.” * Genji and Prince Hotaru joined him at the climax. It was Ko~bai who, still a court page, had sung “Takasago” at the rhyme-guessing contest so many years before.+ Everyone agreed that though informal it was an excellent concert.

Prince Hotaru intoned a poem as wine was brought in:

“The voice of the warbler lays a deeper spell

Over one already enchanted by the blossoms.

“For a thousand years, if they do not fall?” #

Genji replied:

“Honor us by sharing our blossoms this spring

Until you have taken on their hue and fragrance.”

Kashiwagi recited this poem as he poured for Yu~giri:

“Sound your bamboo flute all through the night

And shake the plum branch where the warbler sleeps.”

Yu~giri replied:

“I thought we wished to protect them from the winds,

The blossoms you would have me blow upon madly.

“Most unthinking of you, sir.” There was laughter.

This was Ko~bai's poem:

“Did not the mists intercede to dim the moonlight

The birds on these branches might burst into joyous blossom.”

And indeed music did sound all through the night, and it was dawn when Prince Hotaru made ready to leave. Genji had a set of informal court robes and two sealed jars of perfume taken out to his carriage.

“If she catches a scent of blossoms upon these robes,

My lady will charge me with having misbehaved.”

“How very sad for you,” said Genji, coming out as the carriage was

being readied.

“I should have thought your lady might be pleased

To have you come home all flowers and brocades.

“She can scarcely be witness to such a sight every day.”

The prince could not immediately think of an answer.*

There were modest but tasteful gifts, ladies' robes and the like, for all the other guests.