humble quarter were not likely to recognize you and press or stare, but I am afraid you must have been very much bored waiting in this hugger-mugger back street,” and he conducted Genji into the house. Koremitsu’s brother, the deacon, his brother-in-law Mikawa no Kami and his sister all assembled to greet the Prince, delighted by a visit with which they had not thought he was ever likely to honour them again.
The nun too rose from her couch: “For a long time I had been waiting to give up the world, but one thing held me back: I wanted you to see your old nurse just once again as you used to know her. You never came to see me, and at last I gave up waiting and took my vows. Now, in reward for the penances which my Order enjoins, I have got back a little of my health, and having seen my dear young master again, I can wait with a quiet mind for the Lord Armda’s Light,” and in her weakness she shed a few tears.
“I heard some days ago,” said Genji, “that you were very dangerously ill, and was in great anxiety. It is sad now to find you in this penitential garb. You must live longer yet, and see me rise in the world, that you may be born again high in the ninth sphere of Amida’s Paradise. For they say that those who died with longings unfulfilled are burdened with an evil karma in their life to come.”
People such as old nurses regard even the most blackguardly and ill-favored foster children as prodigies of beauty and virtue. Small wonder then if Genji’s nurse, who had played so great a part in his early life, always regarded her office as immensely honorable and important, and tears of pride came into her eyes while he spoke to her.
The old lady’s children thought it very improper that their mother, having taken holy orders, should show so lively an interest in a human career. Certain that Genji himself would be very much shocked, they exchanged uneasy glances. He was on the contrary deeply touched. “When I was a child,” he said, “those who were dearest to me were early taken away, and although there were many who gave a hand to my upbringing, it was to you only, dear nurse, that I was deeply and tenderly attached. When I grew up I could not any longer be often in your company. I have not even been able
