President of the Board of War, to present the bowl. He did so, reciting the verse: ‘Speak not of change; unaltered through all ages[1] shall the flute preserve their song, the nightingales that in the spring-time warble on the swaying bough.’ This was said with a glance towards the Emperor, and in loud clear voice, that the compliment might not be missed. Ryōzen was indeed gratified by the graceful allusion, but as he took the bowl he answered modestly: ‘If birds still sing and a few faded blossoms deck the tree, it is but in remembrance of those happier days when Virtue ruled the world.’ This was said with great earnestness and humility. All the above poems were exchanged privately and only overheard by a few privileged persons, and there were others which did not get recorded at all. The pavilion of the musicians was some way off, and Suzaku suggested that those about him should send for their instruments and make a little music of their own. Sochino Miya accordingly played on the lute, Tō no Chūjō on the Japanese zithern, while Suzaku himself played to the Emperor on the thirteen-stringed zithern. The Chinese zithern was as usual played by Genji. It was seldom that so gifted a band of performers chanced to meet in one place, and the concert that followed was of unforgettable beauty. Several of the courtiers present had good voices, and the songs ‘Was ever such a day!’ and the ‘Cherry Man’[2] were now performed. Finally torches were lit all round the edge of the island in the lake, and so the feast at last came to an end. But late as it was, Ryōzen felt that it would be uncivil on his part if he went away without paying his respects to Suzaku’s mother, Lady Kōkiden, who was living in the same house with him. Genji was naturally obliged to
