affairs made it all the less probable that Genji would in the near future reveal her identity to Tō no Chūjō.
As there was no moon that night, the great lamp was presently brought in. ‘It is now just comfortably warm,’ said Genji, ‘and the only thing we need is a little more light.’ He sent for a servant and said to him: ‘One tray of bamboo flares! In here, please.’ When they were brought he noticed a very beautiful native zithern and drawing it towards him struck a few chords. It was tuned to the difficult ritsu mode, but with remarkable accuracy. It seemed indeed to be an exceptionally fine instrument, and when he had played on it for a little while he said to her: ‘I have all these months been doing you the injustice of supposing that you were not interested in these things. What I like is to play such an instrument as yours on a cool autumn evening, when the moon is up, sitting quite close to the window. One then plays in concert with the cicadas, purposely using their chirruping as part of the accompaniment. The result is a kind of music which is intimate, but at the same time thoroughly modern. There is, of course, a go-as-you-please, informal quality about the Japanese zithern which makes it unsuitable for use on ceremonial occasions. But when one remembers that almost all our native airs and measures originated on this instrument, one cannot help regarding it with respect. There are stray references which show that its history stretches back into the dimmest past; but to hear people talk nowadays one would think it had been specially invented for the benefit of young ladies, in whom an acquaintance with foreign arts and usages is considered unbecoming. Above all, do make a practice of playing it in concert with other instruments whenever you get the chance. This will immensely improve your command over it. For though the Japanese zithern is a far less compli-
