altogether so villainously that he was able to follow Genji without being recognized upon the road. Seeing him enter so unexpected a place, Chūjō was trying to imagine what business his friend could possibly have in such a quarter when the music began and he secreted himself with a vague idea of waylaying Genji when he came out. But the prince, not knowing who the stranger was and frightened of being recognized, stole on tip-toe into the shadow. Chūjō suddenly accosted him: ‘Though you shook me off so uncivilly, I thought it my duty to keep an eye on you’ he said, and recited the poem: ‘Though together we left the great Palace hill, your setting-place you would not show me, Moon of the sixteenth night!’ Thus he remonstrated; and Genji, though at first he had been somewhat put out by finding that he was not alone, when he recognized Tō no Chūjō could not help being rather amused. ‘This is indeed an unexpected attention on your part’ he said, and expressed his slight annoyance in the answering verse: ‘Though wheresoever it shines men marvel at its light, who has before thought fit to follow the full moon to the hill whereon it sets?’
‘It is most unsafe for you to go about like this,’ said Chūjō. ‘I really mean it. You ought always to have a bodyguard; then you are all right whatever happens. I wish you would always let me come with you. I am afraid that these clandestine expeditions may one day get you into trouble,’ and he solemnly repeated the warning. What chiefly worried Genji was the thought that this might not be the first occasion upon which Chūjō had followed him; but if it had been his habit to do so it was certainly very tactful of him never to have questioned Genji about Yūgao’s child.[1]
Though each of them had an appointment elsewhere, they
- ↑ Chūjō’s child by Yūgao.
