the end of the story, cried out that for their part they found her a most interesting woman. Shikibu protested that he did not wish to go on with the story, but at last after much coaxing, pulling a comical wry face he continued: ‘I had not seen her for a long time. When at last some accident took me to the house, she did not receive me with her usual informality but spoke to me from behind a tiresome screen. Ha, Ha, thought I foolishly, she is sulking; now is the time to have a scene and break with her. I might have known that she was not so little of a philosopher as to sulk about trifles; she prided herself on knowing the ways of the world and my inconstancy did not in the least disturb her.
‘She told me (speaking without the slightest tremor) that having had a bad cold for some weeks she had taken a strong garlic-cordial, which had made her breath smell rather unpleasant and that for this reason she could not come very close to me. But if I had any matter of special importance to discuss with her she was quite prepared to give me her attention. All this she had expressed with solemn literary perfection. I could think of no suitable reply, and with an “at your service” I rose to go. Then, feeling that the interview had not been quite a success, she added, raising her voice “Please come again when my breath has lost its smell.” I could not pretend I had not heard. I had however no intention of prolonging my visit, particularly as the odour was now becoming definitely unpleasant, and looking cross I recited the acrostic “On this night marked by the strange behaviour of the spider, how foolish to bid me come back to-morrow”[1] and calling
- ↑ There is a reference to an old poem which says: ‘I know that to-night my lover will come to me. The spider’s antics prove it clearly.’ Omens were drawn from the behaviour of spiders. There is also a pun on hiru ‘day’ and hiru ‘garlic,’ so that an ordinary person would require a few moments’ reflection before understanding the poem.
