lated: ‘These proceedings cannot continue,’ they said, ‘unless absolute silence is preserved. Interruptions are in the highest degree irregular, and if they occur again we shall be obliged to leave our seats.’ Several more testy speeches followed, and the audience was vastly entertained; for those who had never witnessed such performances before were naturally carried away by so diverting a novelty; while the few who were familiar with the proceedings had now the satisfaction of smiling indulgently at the crude amazement of their companions. It was long indeed since Learning had received so signal a mark of encouragement, and for the first time its partisans felt themselves to be people of real weight and consequence. Not a single word might any one in the audience so much as whisper to his neighbour without calling down upon himself an angry expostulation, and excited cries of ‘disgraceful behaviour!’ were provoked by the mildest signs of restlessness in the crowd. For some time the ceremony had been proceeding in darkness, and now when the torches were suddenly lit, revealing those aged faces contorted with censoriousness and self-importance, Genji could not help thinking of the Sarugaku[1] mountebanks with their burlesque postures and grimaces. ‘Truly,’ he thought, looking at the professors, ‘truly in more ways than one an extraordinary and unaccountable profession!’ ‘I think it is rather fun,’ he said, ‘to see every one being kept in order by these crabbed old people,’ and hid himself well behind his curtains-of-state, lest his comments too should be heard and rebuked.
Not nearly enough accommodation had been provided, and many of the young students from the college had been turned away for lack of room. Hearing this, Genji sent after them with apologies and had them brought back to the Summer House where they were entertained with food
- ↑ See my Nō Plays, p. 15 seq.
