16

The evening breeze had scattered leaves of various tints to make the ground a brocade as rich and delicate as the brocades along the galleries. The dancers were young boys from the best families, prettily dressed in coronets and the usual gray-blues and roses, with crimsons and lavenders showing at their sleeves. They danced very briefly and withdrew under the autumn trees, and the guests regretted the approach of sunset. The formal concert, brief and unassuming, was followed by impromptu music in the halls above, instruments having been brought from the palace collection. As it grew livelier a koto was brought for each of the emperors and a third for Genji. The Suzaku emperor was delighted to hear “the Uda monk” * again after so many years and be assured that its tone was as fine as ever.

“This aged peasant has known many autumn showers

And not before seen finer autumn colors.”

This suggestion that the day was uniquely glorious must not, thought the emperor, go unchallenged:

“Think you these the usual autumn colors?

Our garden brocade imitates an earlier one.”

He was handsomer as the years went by, and he and Genji might have been mistaken for twins. And here was Yu~giri beside them—one stopped in amazement upon seeing the same face yet a third time. Perhaps it was one's imagination that Yu~giri had not quite the emperor's nobility of feature. His was in any event the finer glow of youth.

He was unsurpassed on the flute. Among the courtiers who serenaded the emperors from below the stairs Ko~bai had the finest voice. It was cause for general rejoicing that the two houses should be so close.

{New Herbs}