So saying he took the wreath of wistaria from his own head and laid it on Genji’s, quoting the poem: ‘My wreath shall be thine.’ Genji laughingly accepted it and replied: ‘Watch by the flowers of Spring till the last petal be unfolded; then will be time enough to talk of whirlpools and despair.’ So saying he caught hold of his brother and held him fast in his seat, promising that if he would but stay, he should to-day witness a performance far more entertaining than what had gone before.
It so happened that this day marked the opening of the Empress Akikonomu’s Spring Devotions. Most of the visitors not wishing to miss the ceremonies connected with this occasion, asked leave to stay on, and retiring to the guest-rooms, changed into their morning clothes. A few who had urgent business at home reluctantly withdrew from the palace; but on returning later they found that they had missed nothing, for it was close upon noon before the actual ceremony began. The visitors reached the Empress’s apartments in a long procession, headed by Genji himself. The whole Court was there, and though the magnificence of the occasion was partly due to Akikonomu’s own position, it was in large measure a tribute to Genji’s influence and popularity. At Murasaki’s request an offering of flowers was to be made to the presiding Buddha. They were brought by eight little boys disguised some as birds, some as butterflies. The birds carried cherry-blossom in silver bowls; the butterflies, mountain-kerria in golden bowls. They were in reality quite ordinary flowers such as you might find in any country place; but in this setting they seemed to acquire an unearthly glint and splendour. The boys arrived by water, having embarked at the landing-stage in front of Murasaki’s rooms. As they landed at the Autumn domain a sudden gust of wind caught the cherry-blossom in the silver bowls and some of it scattered along
