Selections from Genji Monogatari | Page 8

of that poem, which had been painted by
Prince Teishi-In, or to talk about the native poems on the same subject,
which had been composed, at the Royal command, by Ise, the poetess,
and by Tsurayuki, the poet. And it was in this way that he was engaged
on this particular evening.
To him the Miôbu now went immediately, and she faithfully reported
to him all that she had seen, and she gave to him also the answer to his
letter. That letter stated that the mother of Kiri-Tsubo felt honored by
his gracious inquiries, and that she was so truly grateful that she
scarcely knew how to express herself. She proceeded to say that his
condescension made her feel at liberty to offer to him the following:--
"Since now no fostering love is found,
And the Hagi tree is dead and sere,
The motherless deer lies on the ground,
Helpless and weak, no shelter near."
The Emperor strove in vain to repress his own emotion; and old
memories, dating from the time when he first saw his favorite, rose up
before him fast and thick. "How precious has been each moment to me,
but yet what a long time has elapsed since then," thought he, and he
said to the Miôbu, "How often have I, too, desired to see the daughter
of the Dainagon in such a position as her father would have desired to
see her. 'Tis in vain to speak of that now!"
A pause, and he continued, "The child, however, may survive, and
fortune may have some boon in store for him; and his grandmother's
prayer should rather be for long life."
The presents were then shown to him. "Ah," thought he, "could they be
the souvenirs sent by the once lost love," as he murmured--
"Oh, could I find some wizard sprite,

To bear my words to her I love,
Beyond the shades of envious night,
To where she dwells in realms above!"
Now the picture of beautiful Yô-ki-hi, however skilful the painter may
have been, is after all only a picture. It lacks life and animation. Her
features may have been worthily compared to the lotus and to the
willow of the Imperial gardens, but the style after all was Chinese, and
to the Emperor his lost love was all in all, nor, in his eyes, was any
other object comparable to her. Who doubts that they, too, had vowed
to unite wings, and intertwine branches! But to what end? The murmur
of winds, the music of insects, now only served to cause him
melancholy.
In the meantime, in the Koki-Den was heard the sound of music. She
who dwelt there, and who had not now for a long time been with the
Emperor, was heedlessly protracting her strains until this late hour of
the evening.
How painfully must these have sounded to the Emperor!
"Moonlight is gone, and darkness reigns
E'en in the realms 'above the clouds,'
Ah! how can light, or tranquil peace,
Shine o'er that lone and lowly home!"
Thus thought the Emperor, and he did not retire until "the lamps were
trimmed to the end!" The sound of the night watch of the right
guard[15] was now heard. It was five o'clock in the morning. So, to
avoid notice, he withdrew to his bedroom, but calm slumber hardly
visited his eyes. This now became a common occurrence.
When he rose in the morning he would reflect on the time gone by
when "they knew not even that the casement was bright." But now, too,

he would neglect "Morning Court." His appetite failed him. The
delicacies of the so-called "great table" had no temptation for him. Men
pitied him much. "There must have been some divine mystery that
predetermined the course of their love," said they, "for in matters in
which she is concerned he is powerless to reason, and wisdom deserts
him. The welfare of the State ceases to interest him." And now people
actually began to quote instances that had occurred in a foreign Court.
Weeks and months had elapsed, and the son of Kiri-Tsubo was again at
the Palace. In the spring of the following year the first Prince was
proclaimed heir-apparent to the throne. Had the Emperor consulted his
private feelings, he would have substituted the younger Prince for the
elder one. But this was not possible, and, especially for this
reason:--There was no influential party to support him, and, moreover,
public opinion would also have been strongly opposed to such a
measure, which, if effected by arbitrary power, would have become a
source of danger. The Emperor, therefore, betrayed no such desire, and
repressed all outward appearance of it. And now the public expressed
its satisfaction at the self-restraint of the Emperor, and the mother of
the first