He could not face the idea of going straight back to the Great Hall. It was the day of the Kamo festival and going to his own palace he ordered Koremitsu to get his coach ready. ‘Look at her!’ he cried smiling fondly at Murasaki when she appeared in all her finery surrounded by the little children whom he had given her for playmates, ‘She must needs bring her dames to wait upon her!’ and stroking her lovely hair which to-day Shoōnagon had dressed with more than usual care. ‘It is getting rather long’ he said; ‘to-day would not be a bad[1] time to have it cut’ and sending for his astrologer he bade him consult his books. ‘The maids-of-honour first!’ he cried, nodding at the pretty troupe of babes, and their dainty tresses were trimmed so as to hang neatly over their diapered holiday gowns. ‘I am going to cut yours myself’ he said to Murasaki. ‘What a lot of it there is! I wonder how much longer it would have grown.’ Really it was quite hard work. ‘People with very long hair ought to wear it cut rather short over the temples’ he said at last; ‘but I have not the heart to crop you any closer’ and he laid the knife down. Shōdnagon’s gratification knew no bounds when she heard him reciting the prayer with which the ceremony of hair-cutting should conclude. There is a sea-weed called miru which is used in the dressing of ladies’ hair and playing upon this word (which also means ‘to see’) he recited a poem in which he said that the miru-weed which had been used in the washing of her hair was a token that he would forever fondly watch it grow. She answered that like the sea-tides which visit the miru in its cleft he came but went away, and often her tresses unwatched by him would like the hidden sea-weed grow. This she wrote very prettily on a slip of paper and though the verse had no merit in it but the charm of a childish mind it gave him great delight.
- ↑ I.e. astrologically.
