The contrast between Murasaki, Genji’s private treasure, and the Third Princess, his public prize, shows the folly of vain ambition. However, when the narrative returns to Murasaki after a gap of several years (“Wakana Two”), it begins by affirming that all is well.
[The Third Princess] had never surpassed [Murasaki], despite the widespread esteem that she enjoyed. The months and years only brought those two more perfectly together, until nothing whatever seemed to come between them.
However, the old tension remains, despite lasting affection on both sides. The narrator immediately raises a grave issue.
“I would now much rather give up my present commonplace existence and devote myself instead to quiet practice,” [Murasaki] quite seriously said to Genji again and again. “At my age I feel I have learned all I wish to know of life. Please give me leave to do so.”
“You are too cruel,” he would reply. “I could not consider it! That is exactly what I myself long to do, and if I am still here, it is only because I cannot bear to imagine how you would feel once I had left you behind, and what your life would be then. Once I have taken that step, you may do as you please.” He would not have it.[97]
The religious life has attracted Genji ever since his youth, at least from a safe distance, but by now Asagao and Oborozukiyo have both done what Murasaki wishes to do, and the reader has already heard him fret that he is falling ignominiously behind. Nonetheless, when Murasaki opens the door for him to do what he claims to have long wanted to do, he accuses her of cruelty, and he will do so again whenever she broaches the subject. He clings to this world far more stubbornly than he would have even himself believe.
The matter continues to weigh on Murasaki’s mind, and evidence of Genji’s continuing favor does little after all to calm her fears for the future.
Seeing her own prestige rise in time so high above that of all others at Rokujō, [Murasaki] continually reflected that although the personal favor she enjoyed was equal to anyone’s, age by and by would dull her in his esectionand that she preferred to leave the world on her own before that should happen; but she found it impossible to say so clearly, for she feared that he might condemn her for being too forward.[98]
He has chided her before, and the topic is no doubt an especially sore one for him now, not only because of his complex feelings about leaving the world himself, or about allowing Murasaki to do so, but because by this time the Third Princess has been promoted still higher in rank. People had already been whispering that he did not honor her enough, and this promotion has placed him under a still heavier obligation to put her visibly above Murasaki. Despite his struggle to resist while seeming to comply, he has had to make a show of spending more time with the Third Princess; and Murasaki, who knows that he cannot countenance her desire to become a nun, must sense also that tension over the Third Princess may sharpen his reaction to any expression of her desire to do so. Meanwhile, Genji begins to divide his nights equally between the two. “[Murasaki] accepted and understood this, but it confirmed her fears, although she never allowed them to show.”[99]
Soon Genji must begin teaching the Third Princess the kin, to please her father, and the “women’s concert” (onnagaku) follows. The lady from Akashi, her daughter (the heir apparent’s consort), Murasaki, and the Third Princess perform at Rokujō for Genji and Yūgiri, his guest. The Third Princess does well, thanks to Genji’s patient instruction, but Murasaki plays the wagon more beautifully than Genji ever imagined, since he has never even heard her before on this instrument.
The next morning Genji begins the day with a tactless remark.
“It is remarkable how well Her Highness does at the kin, isn’t it!” Genji observed. “How did it strike you?”
“I wondered about her when I first heard her play a little, over there, but she has become very good now. How could she fail to, when you have been giving all your time to her lessons?”[100]
Murasaki is hurt that he hardly taught her music at all. He explains that he had to teach the Third Princess because Suzaku and the emperor both expected it of him, and he goes on to assure Murasaki that her own performance, and the degree to which it impressed Yūgiri, made him extremely proud. This is poor consolation. After all, Akashi (Murasaki’s old rival), too, played superbly, and Murasaki knows as well as Genji that in her case as in others mastery of music has nothing to do with a lady’s real weight in the world.