Part 10
The Queen said: "If you are going to send at all, send something clever, here are many fans for it." But some ladies replied: "That will attract too much attention. It is too unusual. If you send this publicly you will not succeed in puzzling her; perhaps we would better send it anonymously." Therefore a lady who was an entire stranger to her was chosen. She went, and, speaking loudly, said: "Here is a letter from Lady Chunagon. It is sent by her Queen to Lady Sakyō." I thought it would be awkward if the messenger were caught by them, but she ran away as soon as she had put down the things. She reported that she heard some one saying, "Whence do you come?" There is no doubt she really thought it a gift from our Queen.
Days passed without any interesting events. After that evening of dancing the Court became absolutely dull. The preparatory music on the eve of the Omi ceremony[83] was very fine. The young courtiers were still filled with thoughts of the dancers. After the Queen's return to the palace, the little sons of another wife of the Prime Minister were permitted to come in to play with the ladies-in-waiting. They came to us without end, which was a great bother. I did not show myself to them, taking advantage of my advanced age. They were not thinking of the dancers, but were playing by the side of Ladies Yasurahi and Kohyoé, joking and chattering like little birds.
At the occasional festival of the Kamo shrine the Vice-Lieutenant-General [first son of the Prime Minister] was made the King's substitute. It was a day of fasting also, so the Lord Prime Minister had passed the night at the palace. The nobles and dancers passed the night of the festival in making a great noise with much merriment in the corridors. Next morning an attendant of the Chamberlain brought something to an attendant of the Lord Prime Minister. It was the box-cover of the previous night.[84] There was in it a silver case for romances, besides a mirror, a comb of aloe wood, and a silver kogai. The comb seemed to be given to adorn the hair of the messenger at the festival. Something was written on the box-cover in reed style in raised characters. It was the answer to the poem of the lycopodium. Two characters were omitted and it was difficult to read. She seemed to have misunderstood. The Chamberlain thought it really was a gift to her from our Queen, so the return was made thus openly. It was but a foolish joke and I felt sorry for her.
The Prime Minister's wife came to court to see the festival. His son, adorning his head with artificial wisteria, appeared quite a man, noble and dignified. The Lady Kura [his nurse], not taking any notice of the dancers, wept for joy watching her young lord. As it was still the day of fasting, they came back from the shrine at two in the morning, and the sacred dance was performed listlessly, as the important persons were absent. Kanetoki [a dancer] who had been very handsome last year, was much fallen off. Though a stranger to him I felt regret, being reminded of the fleeting life of us all.
[Here an interval occurs.]
On the twentieth of the Finishing month I went again to Court. It was the anniversary of the day on which I had first come. I remembered my former career as a wanderer on dream paths, and I loathed myself for having become so familiar with court life. The night was far advanced and as the Queen was fasting, we did not present ourselves before her. I felt lonely and was lying down. The maids-of-honour around me said: "The hours here are very different from those at home. There all would be sleeping by this time, but here our dreams are broken by the sound of shoes along the corridor." Hearing them girlishly talking I murmured to myself:
_My life and the year are closing together._ _At the sound of the wind dreary is my heart._
On that moon-hidden night [last night of the year] the driving off of evil spirits was soon finished. We dyed our teeth [black], and after finishing decorating our faces we sat at ease. Ben-no-Naishi came, and after talking she went to sleep. The Queen's seamstress sat in the doorway watching the maid Ateki sewing. Just then we heard an unusual noise from the direction of Her Majesty's apartment. I tried to wake up Ben-no-Naishi, but she was heavy with sleep. Some one was heard crying wildly. I was frightened and could not think what to do. Was it a fire? But no, it was not that. I pushed the seamstress forward, saying, "Go there! over there! Oh, dear!!" Then, "Her Majesty is in her own room, we must by all means get to her!" I shook Ben-no-Naishi roughly to awaken her and we three ran trembling--flying rather than walking. We saw two naked persons. They were Lady Yugei and Lady Kohyobé. It seemed that they had been robbed of their clothes, and I felt more distressed than before. The kitchen servants had all gone out; even the Queen's guards had retired after devil-driving. We clapped our hands, but no one came. Some went to call the women attendants, while I, forgetting my shyness, said, "Call Hyobu-no-Jo, the secretary." He was sought for, but had left the palace. I felt irritated indeed, but at last an assistant to the Master of Ceremonies came who poured oil into several lamps. We found many who had fainted. At the news a messenger arrived from the King, but we were too frightened to receive him properly. He took out dresses from the royal wardrobe to give them. The new dresses for New Year's Day were not stolen, so these ladies took their misfortune lightly--but unforgettably dreadful is a nude form. I can never call it laughable. It was too dreadful to speak of, but we could not help talking.
The New Year's Day [1008] was inauspicious. The rice-cake [mochi] [85] ceremony was deferred. However, on the third day, the August Crown Prince went up to the King and the rice-cake festival was given for him. His attendant was Lady Dainagon. The dress of the ladies on the first day was karaginu of purple and old rose colour, red kimono and shaded train; on the second day, red and purple brocade, deep violet glossy silk, green karaginu, train dyed by rubbing flowers. On the third day we wore white and rose-coloured brocaded garments, trimmed with many folds. The karaginu was of dull red and old rose brocade. When we wear deep violet-coloured shining silk the inner robe is of crimson; when we wear crimson outside the inner dress is usually of deep violet. The pale and deep colour of spring leaf buds, dull red, golden yellow, and light and dark crimsons--dresses of these ordinary colours were worn trimmed with six folds in very beautiful combinations.[86]
Lady Saisho held the August Prince's honourable sword. The Lord Prime Minister took the August Prince in his arms and they presented themselves before the King. Lady Saisho's dress was a garment trimmed with three and five folds, and figured of the same colour trimmed with seven folds. The uchigi was adorned with a pattern of oak-leaves beautifully embroidered. She wore a karaginu and train trimmed with three folds. Her unlined inner kimono was woven in a pattern. Her costume was in the Chinese style. Her hair was ornamented more elaborately than usual. Her style of dress and manner showed great knowledge of the world. She is rather tall and has a well-rounded figure. Her face is very small and exquisitely tinted.
[The following eleven paragraphs are portraits of prominent ladies of the court.]
LADY DAINAGON is very small and refined, white, beautiful, and round, though in demeanour very lofty. Her hair is three inches longer than her height. She uses exquisitely carved hairpins. Her face is lovely, her manners delicate and charming.
LADY SENJI is also a little person, and haughty. Her hair is fine and glossy and one foot longer than the ordinary. She puts us to shame, her carriage is so noble. When she walks before us we feel so much in the shade that we are uncomfortable. Her mind and speech make us feel that a really noble person ought to be like her.
--If I go on describing ladies' manners I shall be called an old gossip, so I must refrain from talking about those around me. I will be silent about the questionable and imperfect.
LADY KOSHOSHO, all noble and charming. She is like a weeping-willow tree at budding-time. Her style is very elegant and we all envy her her manners. She is so shy and retiring that she seems to hide her heart even from herself. She is of childlike purity even to a painful degree--should there be a low-minded person who would treat her ill or slander her, her spirit would be overwhelmed and she would die. Such delicacy and helplessness make us anxious about her.
LADY MIYA-NO-NAISHI, also a beauty of good height. Her appearance as she sits is very dignified. She is fashionable. Although no single feature is especially beautiful she has altogether an air of youth and beauty. Her face is [literal translation] high in the middle and she excels others in the fairness of her skin. Her hair-ornaments, her forehead, oh, beautiful! produce an effect of refinement and elegance. She is very frank and unaffected in manner, and never the least bit awkward about anything. She is naturalness itself. Her character may be an example for us. She never tries consciously to attract, and she has no vanity.
LADY SHIKIBU is her younger sister. She is too plump, and her complexion is a fragrant white. She has a bright small face and beautiful hair, although it is not long. She presents herself before the Queen with false hair. Her plump appearance, oh, smile-giving! Her eyes and forehead are lovely indeed; her smile is full of sweetness.
Among the younger ladies I think KODAYU and GENSHIKIBU are beautiful. The former is a little person quite modern in type. Her pretty hair is abundant at the roots, but gets too thin at the end, which is one foot longer than she is. Her face is full of wit. People will think her very pretty, and indeed there is no feature one would wish to improve. The latter is tall and rather superior. Her features are fine; she is smile-giving and lovable. She is very refined and seems to be a favourite daughter of some person of dignity.
LADY KOHYOÉ-NO-JO is also refined. These ladies cannot be looked down upon by court nobles. With every one some fault is to be found, but only those who are ever mindful to conceal it _even when alone,_ can completely succeed.
LADY ATTENDANT MYAKI is a very pretty person. Her hair is scarcely longer than her uchigi, the ends are beautifully cut. Her face was agreeable also when I last saw it.
There is also LADY GOSETCHI-NO-BEN.[87] She is the adopted daughter of Middle Adviser Hei. Her face is like a picture. She has a broad forehead and eyelids drooping at the corners. Her features are not remarkable at any point, but her complexion is white, her hands and arms are pretty. When I saw her in the spring for the first time her hair, which was profusely abundant, was one foot longer than herself, but it suddenly became thinner at the ends, and now it is only a little longer than she is.
A LADY KOMA had very long hair, an agreeable lady in those days; now she has become like the bridge of a lute which has been immovably fastened with glue. She has gone home.
So much for their appearance and now for their dispositions. Here few can be selected, though each has some good points and few are entirely bad. It is very difficult to possess such qualities as prudence, wit, charm, right-mindedness, all at once. As to many ladies, the question is whether they excel most in charms of mind or person. It is hard to decide! Wicked, indeed, to write so much of others!
There is LADY CHUJO who waits upon the Princess dedicated to the service of the Kamo shrine. I had heard of her and secretly managed to see her letters addressed to other persons. They were very beautifully written but with such an exalted opinion of herself; in the whole world she is the person of profoundest knowledge! None to compare with her, it seems she is thinking. On reading them my heart beat faster, I was furiously indignant for every one here [the ladies of her own Queen's Court], although it maybe it is wrong to feel so. "Be it in composition or poetry who can judge save our Princess-Abbess, who will have bright futures but the ladies attending our Princess?"!! It may be reasonable, yet I have never seen, compared to ours, any good poems by the lady attendants of that Princess-Abbess. They seem to be living an idle poetic life, but if they were to compete with us, it is not necessarily certain they would be superior, though no one knows them well. On a beautiful moonlight night or morning, at the time of flowers or of cuckoo, courtiers might visit their residence. Other-worldly and sacred it is, and made to the taste of their Princess. There they remain undisturbed, admiring her. On the other hand, with us many things occur. The Queen has to go up to His Majesty's apartment, the Lord Prime Minister comes, and we have to keep watch at night. But there is nothing of all this in that world all their own where they may indulge in elegance and avoid blunders. If I could live there like an old piece of buried wood thrown in among them, I might succeed in freeing myself from the reproach of shallowness--would that I might indulge in elegance there, relaxing myself! Forward young ladies there can devote themselves to dress, making themselves inferior to none and pleasing to courtiers. On the other hand, in our Queen's Court we rather neglect to adorn ourselves, for our Queen has no rivals now. Moreover, she thinks unfavourably of frivolous women, so those who wish to serve her and remain in favour keep from association with men. Of course everywhere there are light-hearted, unashamed, thoughtless women, and men who visit our court to find them say we are awkward and unversed in social usage. Our ladies of the higher ranks are, indeed, much too reserved and haughty; it is not in this way that they can bring honour to our Queen. It is painful to see them. The attendants of the Princess-Abbess seem to have been alluding to these ladies, but both defects and merits are found in every one, so we may not be inferior to them after all. Even our young ladies nowadays have heard of self-respect. It would be embarrassing if they were too frivolous, but one would not wish them to be heartless either.
Our Queen of perfect mind, enviably lovely, is reserved and never obtrusive, for she believes that few who are forward can avoid blunders. In fact, imperfect wit is worse than reserve. Our Queen when she was very young was much annoyed to hear persons of shallow culture saying vulgar, narrow things with conceit, so she favoured ladies who made no mistakes, and childlike persons pleased her very well. This is why our ladies have become so retiring. As Her Majesty grows older, she begins to see the world as it is, the bad and good qualities of the human heart. Reserve or boldness--she knows neither is good. The court nobles rather look down on us--"Nothing interesting here!" they seem to say. The Queen knows this, but she knows we cannot please everybody. If we stumble, hideous things may happen. Yet we must not be faint-hearted and bashful either, so Her Majesty says, but our old habits are not so easily shaken off, and all the young nobles of the present day are, on their side, only indulgent pleasure-seekers.
The ladies around the Abbess, who indulge in æsthetic pursuits, gazing at the moon and admiring flowers, may talk only of these things to the nobles, boastfully and intentionally, and the nobles might say that it is difficult to find ladies with whom they can chatter light-heartedly morning or evening, or discuss interesting topics occasionally; although, as I haven't heard them say it, I don't know really what they think. In general conversation it is awkward to say profound things. It is far better to speak with simplicity, and the nobles seem to think so. The difficulty is to understand the occasion and adapt one's self to it.
When the First Official of Her Majesty comes to report to her, the delicate, shy ladies-in-waiting cannot meet him on common ground, or converse fluently, not because they are deficient in words or thoughts, but because of their extreme timidity. They fear their faults may be noticed so they cannot decide what to say. Others [Abbess ladies] may not be so. Even women of high birth must follow the general custom when they become ladies-in-waiting at the Court, but many behave as if they were still daughters at home.
The Great Adviser[88] is displeased to be received by ladies of low rank, so when he comes to the Queen's court to make some report and suitable ladies to receive him are not available, he goes away without seeing Her Majesty. Other court nobles, who often come to make reports, have each a favourite lady, and when that one is away they are displeased, and go away saying to other people, that the Queen's ladies are quite unsatisfactory. There may be some reason in it, yet it is quite unreasonable for the Abbess's ladies to say that we are unworthy to be seen or heard. It is easy to criticize, and difficult to realize our own ideals. These ladies, however, do not know that, and being full of conceit, they treat others with disdain, thus revealing their own limitations. Oh, how I wanted to show the letters to the Queen, but they had been stolen by the lady who secretly showed them to me, and they were soon taken back. I coveted those letters!
LADY IZUMI SHIKIBU[89] corresponds charmingly, but her behaviour is improper indeed. She writes with grace and ease and with a flashing wit. There is fragrance even in her smallest words. Her poems are attractive, but they are only improvisations which drop from her mouth spontaneously. Every one of them has some interesting point, and she is acquainted with ancient literature also, but she is not like a true artist who is filled with the genuine spirit of poetry. Yet I think even she cannot presume to pass judgment on the poems of others.
The wife of the Governor of Tamba Province is called by the Queen and Prime Minister MASA HIRA EMON.[90] Though she is not of noble birth, her poems are very satisfying. She does not compose and scatter them about on every occasion, but so far as we know them, even her miscellaneous poems shame us. Those who compose poems whose loins are all but broken, yet who are infinitely self-exalted and vain, deserve our contempt and pity.
LADY SEISHONAGON.[91] A very proud person. She values herself highly, and scatters her Chinese writings all about. Yet should we study her closely, we should find that she is still imperfect. She tries to be exceptional, but naturally persons of that sort give offence. She is piling up trouble for her future. One who is too richly gifted, who indulges too much in emotion, even when she ought to be reserved, and cannot turn aside from anything she is interested in, in spite of herself will lose self-control. How can such a vain and reckless person end her days happily!
[Here there is a sudden change from the Court to her own home.]
Having no excellence within myself, I have passed my days without making any special impression on any one. Especially the fact that I have no man who will look out for my future makes me comfortless. I do not wish to bury myself in dreariness. Is it because of my worldly mind that I feel lonely? On moonlight nights in autumn, when I am hopelessly sad, I often go out on the balcony and gaze dreamily at the moon. It makes me think of days gone by. People say that it is dangerous to look at the moon[92] in solitude, but something impels me, and sitting a little withdrawn I muse there. In the wind-cooled evening I play on the koto,[93] though others may not care to hear it. I fear that my playing betrays the sorrow which becomes more intense, and I become disgusted with myself--so foolish and miserable am I.
My room is ugly, blackened by smoke. I play on a thirteen or six-stringed koto, but I neglect to take away the bridges even in rainy weather, and I lean it up against the wall between the cabinet and the door jamb. On either side of the koto stands a lute [Japanese biwa]. A pair of big bookcases have in them all the books they can hold. In one of them are placed old poems and romances. They are the homes of worms which come frightening us when we turn the pages, so none ever wish to read them. [Perhaps her own writings, she speaks so slightingly of them.] As to the other cabinet, since the person[94] who placed his own books [there] no hand has touched it. When I am bored to death I take out one or two of them; then my maids gather around me and say: "Your life will not be favoured with old age if you do such a thing! Why do you read Chinese? Formerly even the reading of sutras was not encouraged for women." They rebuke me in the [shade i.e. behind my back]. I have heard of it and have wished to say, "It is far from certain that he who does no forbidden thing enjoys a long life," but it would be a lack of reserve to say it [to the maids]. Our deeds vary with our age and deeds vary with the individual. Some are proud [to read books], others look over old cast-away writings because they are bored with having nothing to do. It would not be becoming for such a one to chatter away about religious thoughts, noisily shaking a rosary. I feel this, and before my women keep myself from doing what otherwise I could do easily. But after all, when I was among the ladies of the Court I did not say what I wanted to say either, for it is useless to talk with those who do not understand one and troublesome to talk with those who criticize from a feeling of superiority. Especially one-sided persons are troublesome. Few are accomplished in many arts and most cling narrowly to their own opinion.
Pretty and coy, shrinking from sight, unsociable, proud, fond of romance, vain and poetic, looking down upon others with a jealous eye--such is the opinion of those who do not know me, but after seeing me they say, "You are wonderfully gentle to meet with; I cannot identify you with that imagined one."