Page:Anthology of Japanese Literature.pdf/135

Rh feeling no horror or fear at all he took her hand and said, “Speak to me once again; tell me why for so short a while you came to me and filled my heart with gladness, and then so soon forsook me, who loved you so well?” and he wept long and bitterly by her side.

The priests did not know who he was, but they were touched by his evident misery and themselves shed tears. He asked Ukon to come back with him, but she answered: “I have served this lady since she was a little child and never once for so much as an hour have I left her. How can I suddenly part from one who was so dear to me and serve in another’s house? And I must now go and tell her people what has become of her; for (such is the manner of her death) if I do not speak soon, there will be an outcry that it was I who was to blame, and that would be a terrible thing for me. Sir,” and she burst into tears, wailing, “I will he with her upon the pyre; my smoke shall mingle with hers!”

“Poor soul,” said Genji, “I do not wonder at your despair. But this is the way of the world. Late or soon we must all go where she has gone. Take comfort and trust in me.” So he sought to console her, but in a moment he added: “Those, I know, are but hollow words. I too care no longer for life and would gladly follow her.” So he spoke, giving her in the end but little comfort.

“The night is far spent,” said Koremitsu; “we must now be on our way.” And so with many backward looks and a heart full to bursting he left the house. A heavy dew had fallen and the mist was so thick that it was hard to see the road. On the way it occurred to him that she was still wearing his scarlet cloak, which he had lent her when they lay down together on the last evening. How closely their lives had been entwined!

Noting that he sat very unsteadily in his saddle, Koremitsu walked beside him and gave him a hand. But when they came to a dike, he lost hold and his master fell to the ground. Here he lay in great pain and bewilderment. “I shall not live to finish the journey,” he said; “I have not strength to go so far.” Koremitsu too was sorely troubled, for he felt that despite all Genji’s insistence, he ought never to have allowed him, fever-stricken as he was, to embark upon this disastrous journey. In great agitation he plunged his hands in the river and