Genji's attendants now arrived from the capital, and congratulated him on the improvement in his health. A messenger was despatched from the Imperial Palace for the same purpose. The priest now collected wild and rare fruits, not to be met with in the distant town, and, with all respect, presented them to Genji, saying: "The term of my vow has not yet expired; and I am, therefore, sorry to say that I am unable to descend the mountain with you on your departure." He then offered to him the parting cup of _sake_. "This mountain, with its waters, fill me with admiration," said Genji, "and I regret that the anxiety of my father the Emperor obliges me to quit the charming scene; but before the season is past, I will revisit it: and-- The city's folk from me shall hear How mountain cherries blossom fair, And ere the Spring has passed away, I'll bid them view the prospect gay." To this the priest replied-- "Your noble presence seems to me Like the rare flowers of Udon tree,[62] Nor does the mountain cherry white, Attract my gaze while you're in sight." Genji smiled slightly, and said: "That is a very great compliment; but the Udon tree does not blossom so easily." The hermit also raised the cup to his lips, and said:-- "Opening my lonely hermit's door, Enclosed around by mountain pine, A blossom never seen before My eyes behold that seems divine." And he presented to him his _toko_ (a small ecclesiastical wand). On seeing this, the priest also made him the following presents:--A rosary of Kongoji (a kind of precious stone), which the sage Prince Shotok obtained from Corea, enclosed in the original case in which it had been sent from that country; some medicine of rare virtue in a small emerald jar; and several other objects, with a spray of Wistaria, and a branch of cherry blossoms. Genji, too, on the other hand, made presents, which he had ordered from the capital, to the hermit and his disciples who had taken part in the religious ceremonies, and also to the poor mountaineers. He also sent the following to the nun, by the priest's page:-- "In yester-eve's uncertain light, A flower I saw so young and bright, But like a morning mist. Now pain Impels me yet to see again." A reply from the nun was speedily brought to him, which ran thus:-- "You say you feel, perhaps 'tis true, A pang to leave these mountain bowers, For sweet the blossoms, sweet the view, To strangers' eyes of mountain flowers." While this was being presented to him in his carriage, a few more people came, as if accidentally, to wait upon him on his journey. Among them was To-no-Chiujio, and his brother Ben, who said: "We are always pleased to follow you; it was unkind of you to leave us behind."