And when I came back to myself, I opened my eyes, and saw her, standing close beside me, bending over towards me, and watching me with eyes that were full of an expression that was half anxiety and half compassion. And as I rose to my feet, in confusion, she said quietly: Nay, it would be better for thee to sit still, for a little while, until thou art recovered. Art thou ill, or what is the matter with thee? And I looked at her, making as it were sure of her being really there, and I said withemotion: Nay, on the contrary, I am very well indeed, now that I find thee still here, as I never hoped to see thee. For I was terribly afraid, lest I should lose thee as I did before. And the shock was like a blow, for I have waited so long, to see thee again. And she looked at me with astonishment, and she said: Before? Again? What dost thou mean? When have we ever met before? And I said: In a dream. And it may be, even earlier, in some former birth. I cannot tell. But instantly, I knew thee again, and my heart stopped, unable to endure the unutterable joy, and the choking pain, and the suddenness of the surprise: for it came upon me like a thunderbolt, without warning. And as I said, I was white with terror, lest thou shouldst have taken advantage of my swoon, to disappear, as thou didst before. For if I had not seen thee, when I woke up, I should have died.
And she looked at me for a while, with curiosity, and as if meditating over what I said. And then she sighed. And she said in a low voice, as if speaking to herself: This is my fault. Alas! I foresaw that there would be danger in thy coming. And I exclaimed: Danger! Be under no concern. Thou hast nothing at all to fear from me, or indeed from anything whatever, as long as I am near thee. Then she said: Nay, but thou dost not understand. It is not for myself that I was afraid, but for thee. And as I looked at her, as if to ask her what she meant, she said again: It is I who am the danger. For I know by experience that I always act on thy sex like a spell: only in thy case, the spell was very strong:so strong, as almost to destroy thee. And yet, it is not my fault, after all. Blame me not, but rather blame the Creator who made me as I am. And I exclaimed: Blame him! nay, rather worship and adore him, for the wonder of his work: as thou art very certainly his masterpiece. What! wouldst thou have me blame him, for producing a thing that I could worship, instead of himself? And she shook her head slowly as I spoke, and she said: Thou seest: it is exactly as I said. I am a poison to thee. And I looked at her, trembling with sheer ecstasy to look at her and listen to her: and suddenly I burst out laughing, with my eyes full of tears. And I said: Poison! Thou! Ah! let me only drink such poison to its dregs! I ask for nothing more. And she said: Come! let us sit on the step, and thou wilt recover. And when we were seated, she said, after a while: Forget me, if thou canst, for a moment, and listen, and I will tell thee of the difficulty which led me to summon thee to my assistance.
And then she began to speak to me of the musical intervals, while I sat gazing at her, drunk with admiration, and growing hot and cold by turns, never so much as hearing a single word she said, but listening only to the unutterable sweetness of the voice that spoke, that sounded in my ears like the noise of a waterfall coming from a distance to the ear of one that lies dying of thirst. And all at once, I broke in abruptly, without any reference whatever to her words: and I said: O Táráwalí, they named thee well who chose thy name:for thou art indeed like the star on thy brow. And when I think how nearly I never came to thee at all, I shudder for sheer terror, to think I all but missed my opportunity, and lost thee for ever. And I owe thee an apology, for a crime, done to thy divinity in ignorance. Aye! Chaturiká was right, when she told me I was worthy of death, for confounding thee with her.
And she said, with a sigh: Thou art not listening to what I say. And then she smiled, with a little smile that shook my heart for delight, and she said: Aye! Chaturiká told me of thy error. But trust her not, when she speaks of me, for she is a flatterer. And yet, thy crime was venial, and one easily forgiven: for she is very pretty, as I am not. But we are wandering from the point, and wasting time, and talking nonsense. Forget us both, and listen with attention, and I will begin all over again. And I swept away her beginning with a wave of my hand, and I exclaimed: It is useless, for I can listen at present to absolutely nothing. There is no room in my soul for anything but thee. Speak to me of thyself, and I will listen never moving for the remainder of my life. And once again she sighed, lifting her hands, and letting them fall again, as if in despair. And she said gently: If thou absolutely wilt not attend, where was the use of thy coming at all? And I said: If thou wilt only send for me every day, at sunset, for a year, it may be that I shall at last be able to forget thee sufficiently, for a very little while, to attend to something else.
And suddenly she laughed, with laughter that exactly resembled the laughter of a child, and she said: Thou art very crafty indeed, but thy cunning plan would take a long time, with but little result. And even then, I am not sure I could rely on thy forgetting. And I exclaimed, with emphasis: Thou art absolutely right, for the moment of oblivion would never come at all. But O thou miracle of a queen, tell me at least one thing about thyself. And she said: What? And I said: How can the King thy husband be so utterly bereft of his reason as to let any other man see his star? Or is he, in very truth, actually blind? For I could understand it, if he really cannot see.
And she looked at me with surprise: and she said slowly: Dost thou actually not know, what everybody knows? And I said: I know nothing that everybody knows, being as I am a stranger. But this I know, very well, that if thou wertmypearl, I would take very good care to hide thee. For even an honest man might well turn robber, tempted by the sight of such an ocean pearl. And she said, very quietly: It needs no thief to steal the pearl, if indeed it be a pearl, which its owner cast away long ago as a thing of no value, for anyone to pick up as he passes by.
And I stared at her in stupefaction, and I struck my hands together and exclaimed: Art thou mad, or am I dreaming? And she said gently: It is true. And anybody but a stranger like thyself would have known it, without needing to be told. And she dropped her eyes,and sat for a while, fingering the string of her lute, as if on purpose to make herself into a picture for my intoxicated gaze: and suddenly she said: Why should I make a secret of a thing that another will tell thee, if I do not, adding to the truth slanders that are false? It is better for thee, and for me, to learn from my own mouth what it is impossible to hide. There is a relation of the King, whose name is Narasinha. And one day he saw me by accident, on the roof of the palace, and instantly he lost his reason, as all the men who see me always do. And not long after, the King was set upon by numbers in a battle, and within a very little of being slain; and Narasinha saved his life, very nearly losing his own. And the King said, when all was over: Now, then, O Narasinha, ask me for anything I have, no matter what: it is thine. And Narasinha saw his opportunity. And he shut his eyes, like one that leaps from a precipice to life or death. And he said: Give me thy Queen, Táráwalí: or else, slay me, here and now, with this very sword that saved thy life. And then, to his amazement, as he stood with his head bowed, expecting death, the King burst out laughing. And he said: Is that all? Aha! Narasinha, we were both frightened, thou and I: thou, of asking, and I, of what thou mightest ask. Didst thou not think, I should slay thee, for thinking of her even in a dream? But my life were worth little, if I haggled with its saviour over its price. And Táráwalí is thine, to do with as thou wilt. For I have only one life, whereas queens can be found in all directions, andI can very easily replace her, whenever I choose. Only she must not leave the palace, for after all, she is my Queen, and so she must remain, for everyone but me and thee. And so he gave me clean away to Narasinha, in secret, but it is a secret that everybody knows, and tells in secret to everybody else. And I have gained by the exchange. For Narasinha risked his life, twice, to win me, and the King would never have risked so much as his little finger to save the life of a hundred queens, and gave me away, like a straw, for the mere asking, not even stopping to consider, that in the straw he gave away his own honour lay hidden, which he gave away with me. And I could have forgiven him for giving me away, but who could forgive the King who valued his own honour less than his own life? And to the King I was never more than a necessary ornament, a thing like a sceptre and a throne, and a mere piece of royal furniture: whereas I am more than the life of Narasinha, and the apple of his eye.
And as she spoke, I listened, not believing my own ears, and saying to myself: Is it all real, or can it be that I am only dreaming after all? And which is the greater wonder, this miserable King, who, leaving honour out of the account, is so utterly besotted as to give away a thing like her to the first man who asks for her, or Táráwalí herself, telling the whole story of her owndepreciation with such contemptuous and yet delicious candour to such a one as me? Aye! well indeed she might despise a husband so unutterably despicable; and yet his oblivion of his own honour is easier by far to understand than his blindness to the value of the thing he gave away. And would she tell me anything at all, unless she had come to the conclusion that I was worthy of her confidence? And who knows? For why should she consent to be given like a horse to Narasinha? Why might she not prefer to give herself, and choose for herself the man who was to be her owner? And what if I could persuade her to let me be the man? And at the very thought, my head began to swim in the delirium of hope and almost unimaginable anticipation. And I said: Dear Táráwalí, is it the fault of the ocean gem, if its boorish owner flings it away, taking it for a bit of common glass, and ignoring its inestimable worth? There are other and better judges, who would give their very lives, only to be allowed to pick it up.
And she looked at me with a smile, and she leaned towards me, and she said, with gentle mischief in her eyes: Shall I tell thee thy very thoughts, and it may be, tumble down for thee the unsubstantial castles thou art even already building in the air? Thou art marvelling at the King, for giving me so carelessly away: and thou art wondering, why I am telling thee about it: and last of all, it may be, thou art counting on my independence. Is it not so? And I hung my head in silence, ashamed at being so accurately detected by the subtle penetrationof this extraordinary Queen. And presently she said, as if to console me for my confusion, with unutterable sweetness in her voice: Come, do not allow delusive imagination to run away with thee, but curb him, and rein him up, and stop him, and be wise. For I belong, body and soul, to Narasinha. And yet, for all that, I am my own mistress, and act exactly as I choose. And I see anyone I please, and at my own time, and go, like a wild elephant, wherever inclination leads me. And music is my passion, and I heard of thee, and sent for thee, and now that I have seen thee, I like thee. And now, shall we be friends?
And as she ended, she put out towards me both her hands, leaning towards me, and looking at me with a smile, and eyes full of an invitation so irresistibly caressing that it swept away my self-control, consuming it like a blade of grass in a forest fire. And I started to my feet, and instantly she rose herself. And I seized her right hand in my own, with a grip that made it an unwilling prisoner beyond all hope of escape. And I exclaimed with agitation: Friends! only friends! Alas! O Táráwalí, hast thou given thyself, body and soul, so absolutely to Narasinha, as not to have left even the very smallest atom over, for me, now that I have discovered thee at last? O I have dreamed of thee, and thy sweetness, and thy eyes, so long, so long.
And as I gazed at her, forgetting everything in the world, but my incontrollable thirst for herself, she sighed, and she said with compassion: Poor boy! I did ill, tosummon thee at all. Thou art only drinking poison, and yet I know not any antidote, save only to bid thee go away.
And I stood, bereft of my senses, and without knowing what I did, pulling her by the hand, that lay reluctantly in mine, endeavouring to free itself in vain. And half resisting, half consenting, against her own will, to be pulled, she came slowly towards me, leaning back, and looking at me with eyes that seemed to implore me to release her, and yet, unable to be harsh, no matter what I did. And at last, she reached me, and she closed her eyes, as I kissed her, with a shudder of delight that was almost terror, on the lips. And then instantly I let her go, and stood aghast at what I had done. And I stammered: Forgive! for I did not know what I was doing.
And she shook her head, and said very gently: Nay, it is I myself who am to blame: since I might have known that this would be the inevitable end. But now, good-bye! for thou hast been here already far too long. And then, she hesitated for an instant, looking at me as if with pity; and she said with a smile: Thou must absolutely go, and yet my heart is sorry for thee, for I understand, what going means, to thee. Come, if thou wilt, I will allow thee, to bid me good-bye.
And as she held out her arms, looking at me with a smile, my reason fled. And I caught her anyhow, with one arm round her waist, and the other round her neck, turning round unawares, so that suddenly I found herlying in my arms, gazing up into my eyes, with lips that trembled as they smiled. And I drew a deep sigh, and then I kissed her in a frenzy with a kiss that seemed as if it would never end.
And then, I almost threw her from me, with a cry. And I turned and fled away, without looking back, and found, I know not how, the door, and knocked, and it was opened; and I got, somehow or other, into the street. And I went home like one walking in a dream, with feet that found their way of their own accord.
And I threw myself on my bed, and lay, all night long, asleep or awake, I know not which, but gazing with eyes that as it were shone into the dark, and a heart burning with the fire of joy, and a soul lost in the ecstasy of recollection, saying to myself without ceasing: I have found her, I have found her: and the reality is sweeter far even than the dream. And morning arrived, as it seemed, even before night had begun, for time was lost altogether in the abyss of reminiscence. And I rose up, and stood still, with my eyes fixed upon the ground, going over every detail, and striving to recall every atom of the meeting of the day before. And I said to myself: Ha! and fool that I was, I very nearly missed her, by refusing to go at all. And unless that lucky elephant had chanced to come along, I was absolutely lost. And yet, how could I possibly have guessed that Táráwalíwould turn out to be the lady of my dream? O joy, that she caught me just before I went away! O the star in her hair, and the sound of her voice, and O the unendurable torture of being absent for an instant from the possibility of the nectar of her kiss!
And then, all at once, I started, for a thought ran of its own accord like a dagger straight into my heart. And I exclaimed: Alas! I had forgotten. How in the world am I ever to see her again? And she said: Good-bye! Can it be that she intended I was never to return? Alas! beyond a doubt, good-bye was good-bye, and for all her extraordinary kindness, she was offended by my overweening presumption, and sent me away, and will not send for me again. Aye! all is over: for like Durgá,[24]she is absolutely inaccessible, unless she chooses to reveal herself to her miserable devotee of her own accord. Aye indeed! my arrogance has ruined me in her estimation, and I cannot even hope ever to see her any more. Fool that I was, and mad, to run away like a deer, never so much as dreaming of providing for my return! Now indeed, I have dropped myself into a well without a rope, and she is as utterly beyond my reach, as if indeed she were a star.
And my knees shook, and I sank down, with my head buried in my hands, ready to cry, for sheer anguish, at the thought of my inability to get at her, and the horroron purpose to keep me in suspense, and torture my impatience. And then at last, she said: Sunset! What! didst thou fear I was going to say Farewell?
And as she laughed again, I caught her by the hand, in exultation, and her laughter suddenly changed into a shriek. And she said, with more laughter: Nay, thou hast come within a little of breaking my hand in pieces, gripping it like one that catches at a twig, to save himself from drowning. What! wouldst thou requite a benefit, by injuring thy benefactor? Or hast thou again mistaken one hand for another? And again she began to laugh, looking at me slily, with her provoking pretty eyes: and she said: No matter, I forgive thee, for as I said, I understand. But O Shatrunjaya the lute-player, what is it that has made thee change thy mind, since yesterday? Or am I to go back and tell the Queen, once more, that her music-master will not come?
And she turned, laughing still, to go away. But I sprang forward, and caught her in my arms again, and said: Nay, dear Chaturiká, do not go. Stay just a little longer, for art thou not her shadow?
And yet once more she began to laugh, pushing me away, as she exclaimed: It is utterly impossible, O Shatrunjaya, for I have many things to do, and very little time. And I am not sure that I care to be embraced, merely because I am the shadow of another. Thou must contrive how thou canst, without me, to restrain thy insatiable appetite of embracing other people, till sunset. Patience! thou hast not long to wait.
And she went out and shut the door, and suddenly, just as it was closing, she opened it again, and put in her head. And she said: Shall I tell her of thy anxiety to embrace me, or leave it to thee? Dear Chaturiká! Ah! ah! Nectar when she turns towards thee: poison when she turns away!
And then she shut the door and disappeared.
And as the door shut behind her, she left the whole room filled to the very brim with the red glow of triumphant love's emotion, and the atmosphere of the ecstasy of happiness; and the laughter, of which she seemed to be the incarnation, hung, so to say, in every corner of the room. And my heart sang and my blood bubbled with the wave of the ocean of anticipation that surged and swelled within me, so that I was utterly unable to sit still, for sheer joy; and my soul began as it were to dance in such excitement, that I could hardly refrain from shouting, resembling one intoxicated by the abruptness of a sudden change from certain death to the very apex of life's sweetness. And I said to myself: Sunset! So, then, beyond a doubt, she has either forgiven me, or is willing to forgive. And who knows? For if she has forgiven once, she may forgive again: when again, it may be, she will allow me to say good-bye. And at the thought, my heart began to burn with dull fire, hurting me so that I could hardly breathe: and yetstrange! the pain was divided only by a hair from a sweetness so intense that I laughed aloud, without knowing why, like one hovering on the very verge of being mad. And so I remained, drowned in the ocean of the torture and the nectar of love-longing, every now and then waking as from a day-dream to wonder at the sun, who seemed to dawdle on his way, as if on purpose to separate my soul from my body with impatience. But at last, after all, day began slowly to come to an end, and I set out for the palace, with feet that could hardly be restrained from running as fast as they could go.
And at the gate the very samepratiháríwas waiting, and she led me away, exactly as before, to the door, and opened it, and I went in. And I stood, listening to its sound as it shut behind me, hardly able to believe that it was not a dream, as I found myself once more in the garden that contained the Queen. And I stopped for a while, for my heart was beating so furiously that I was afraid it would break. And I said to myself, with a sigh of ineffable relief: Ah! now, then, I am actually here, once more. And O now, very soon, comes the agonising rapture of seeing her again. And I wonder where she is, and how I shall find her to-night. And now I must begin to hunt for a very sweet quarry. And suddenly I started almost running, paying absolutely no attention to the trees at all, with eyes that were blind for everything in the world, except one.
And then, all at once, I stopped short: for I looked and saw her, a little way off, under a greatnyagrodhatree, sittingcrossways in a low swing[25]that hung down from a long bough, holding one of its ropes in her left hand that was stretched as high as it could go, and leaning back against the other with her head cushioned in her bent right arm. And she had her left foot tucked beneath her, so that her left knee stood up in the swing, while her right leg was stretched out below, so that its foot just reached the ground, to allow her to swing very gently, whenever her toes touched the earth. And the lovely line of her great right hip seemed to cry for admiration, running down in a single unbroken curve from her waist into the ground, balanced as it were above by the slender beauty of her left arm rising from the mound of her left breast. And the rising moon which she was watching touched her with a faint lustre, lighting up like a lamp the great gem in her hair, and making the champak blossom that floated in the hollow of her bosom's wave glimmer like the foam on a midnight sea. And after a while, I began to steal towards her on tiptoe, fearing to disturb her, lest the lovely picture should be spoiled, yet yearning to be with her with the whole strength of my soul. But all at once, she heard me coming, and looked round and saw me. And instantly she left her swing, and came towards me, walking quickly with undulating steps, as upright as a pillar of her own tree. And I stood still, to watch her coming, and adore it, and delay it, but shereached me in a moment, and she stopped, and said with a smile: I am very glad to see thee. I sent thee, by the mouth of Chaturiká, a time, and yet I hardly dared to hope for thy coming: since doubtless thou hast a better use for thy hours than to waste them upon me.
And I stared at her, in utter stupefaction: and then, all at once I began to laugh. And I exclaimed: Waste! I do not understand. What dost thou mean? Or what was thy object in bidding me to come to thee at sunset? Surely not merely to talk to me of music? And she looked at me gently, with surprise. And she said: Of course. What other object could I have? And I looked at her in silence, saying to myself: Can it really be possible that she means exactly what she says, and that this was the only significance of the word she sent to me? And suddenly I leaned towards her, with hunger in my eyes. And I said: Then indeed, I was mistaken. It was not so, that I interpreted thy summons. Alas! O Táráwalí, the only music that I came for was the music of thy incomparable voice, and I thought it was thy own deliberate intention to send for me simply that I might listen to it again, as I gazed on its owner with adoration.
And she looked at me reproachfully, and she said: Again! Alas! I imagined that thou wouldst ere now have recovered from thy shock of yesterday, and be able now to help me; and yet, here is thy delusion returning, as it seems, even worse than before. See now, forget altogether that I am a woman, and let us talk of music,like two friends. And I laughed in derision, and I exclaimed: Forget that thou art a woman! Ask me rather to forget I am a man. Art thou blind, or hast thou never even looked into a mirror? Dost thou imagine me less than a man, bidding me forget that she is a woman who stands before me, as thou dost, smiling, and bewildering my soul with her maddening loveliness, and the absolute perfection of her body and her soul, showing the hungry man food, and forbidding him to eat, and the thirsty man water, and requiring him to think of it as something it is not? Or art thou all the time only playing, having no heart in thy body, or a stone for a heart? Didst thou summon me only to torture and torment me? Dost thou not know, canst thou not see, the agony of my suffering, standing close enough to seize thee in my arms, and yet kept at a distance, to listen to what I cannot even understand? I tell thee, I am drunk with thy beauty, and mad with intolerable desire for the incomprehensible fascination of thy charm, and dost thou dream of quenching my fire by talking about friends? I want no friendship from thee. I will be more than a friend to thee, or less: aye! I would give all the friendship in the three worlds for a single drop of nectar, mixed of thy body and thy soul.
And as I spoke, she listened, putting up every now and then her hand, as if to stop me: and when I ended, she stood, looking at me in perplexity, as if utterly unable to decide what to do. And at last, I said: Why dost thou say nothing? And she said, simply; I do not knowwhat to say. And I laughed aloud, lost in admiration of the extraordinary simplicity of her incomparable reply. And I exclaimed: O thou wonderful woman, how can I find words to express what I feel for thee? And she said, as if with despair: I counted on thy recovery. And I said: Count not on my recovery, for I never shall recover. And she said, with a smile: Then, as it seems, I shall never have my music lesson. And perhaps it would be better, if it ended here, without ever having begun. And in any case, to-night, thy visit must of necessity be a very short one, since I have other business, unexpectedly arisen, to do. And so, shall we say good-night, without any more delay?
And I said slowly: If I must go, I must: for I will obey thee, order what thou wilt. And yet, wilt thou not allow me at least to bid thee good-bye, as thou didst last night?
And she looked at me, as I leaned towards her, as if with reproach, and she stood for a moment, hesitating, and as it were, balanced in the swing of her own beautiful irresolution. And then, after a while, she sighed, and put out her hand, as if with resignation. And I drew her to me with a clutch, and caught her in my arms, showering on her lips and her eyes and her hair kisses that resembled a rain of fire: while all the time she offered absolutely no resistance, allowing me to do with her exactly as I pleased. And when at last I stopped to breathe, looking at her with eyes dim with emotion, she said, very gently, with a smile, lying just as she was, fettered inmy arms: Hast thou yet bid me good-bye, to thy satisfaction? And I said in a low voice: Nay, not at all. For thou hast not yet kissed me in return, even once. And as if out of compassion, she did as she was told: kissing me gently, over and over again, for I would not let her stop, with kisses that resembled snowflakes that burned as they fell.
And at last, I let her go. And holding her two hands, I gazed at her for a while in adoration, while she looked at me as if patiently waiting to be released, with a little smile. And I said: Now then I will obey thee, and go: for thou hast given me something that will keep me alive. And yet thou art cheating me by sending me away before the time, and thou owest me the rest. Promise me, that thou wilt summon me to-morrow, or I cannot go away, even if I try. For if I go, not knowing when I shall see thee again, I will slay myself on thy palace steps.
And she drew away her hands, very gently, and turned away, and stood looking down upon the ground, reflecting. And I watched her, as I waited, with anxiety: for she seemed to be meditating, not so much of me, as of something unknown to me, that stood in the way of her decision. And then at last, she turned towards me, looking at me, as it seemed, with pity. And she said, almost sadly, and yet with a smile: Poor moth, thou wilt only burn away thy wings. Thou little knowest, what eyes are on thee, or the danger thou art running by overestimating me, and coming here at all. And yet,the mischief has been done, and thou art greatly to be pitied, having fallen under a spell: and thou art suffering from a fever to which nothing can bring any alleviation but myself. And it would be far better to refuse thee, since to grant thy request cannot possibly do thee any good. And yet I cannot find it in my heart to deny thee what thou cravest, since I am myself the involuntary cause of all thy delusion, and can give thee such extraordinary pleasure, with so very little trouble to myself. And so, I will give thee thy desire, and to-morrow's sunset shall be thine.
And I uttered a cry of joy. And utterly unable to control my emotion, I caught her once more in my arms, kissing her passionately with trembling lips. And suddenly I shuddered with delight, for I felt her lips kissing me again. And my senses reeled, and I murmured with emotion: Ah! thou lady of my dream, art thou real, or am I still only dreaming after all? And she stood back, putting me away with her hand, and she said, gently: I am real, but thou seest me through the eyes of thy dream. For what is there, after all, in me, save what thou puttest there thyself, with the aid of thy fancy, and thy passion, and the recollection of thy dream?
And I looked at her in silence for a while, and then I said: Promise me yet one thing more. And she smiled, and said: Thou art insatiable: and yet, what is it? And I said: Send me Chaturiká in the morning, just to tell me what I know already. For I shall be dying ofimpatience, and she is like a foretaste of thyself, and will help to keep me alive.
And she laughed, and she said: Ah! thou art very crafty, for Chaturiká is far prettier than I. But I will send her for all that, to gratify thee to the full. And moreover, I am not jealous. But now, thou must absolutely go: for I must also. And she leaned towards me, with eyes that were full of an unutterable caress: and she said: To-morrow, at sunset, I will be thy dream. Only remember, not to blame me, for anything that may happen when awaking comes.
And I turned and went away, with a heart that trembled in the extremity of joy. And when I had gone a little way, I looked back, and saw her still standing, looking after me, with her two hands clasped behind her head, as motionless as a tree. And after a little while, I looked again, and she was gone.
And when I got home, I threw myself on my bed, and instantly fell fast asleep, for I was worn out by emotion and fatigue: and my slumber resembled the deep peace of my own heart. And a little before the dawn, I woke up, and went out, wandering where my footsteps led me, with a soul lost in meditation on Táráwalí, bathed in the nectar of reminiscence and anticipation, and yet puzzled by a doubt that it could not resolve. And I said to myself as I went along: How in the world can a queenlike her, who laughs all other women to utter scorn, for beauty and understanding and gentleness and sweetness, and some unintelligible magic charm that is somehow spread all over her, and echoes in the tone of her delicious voice that makes every fibre of my heart tremble every time I hear it; how can such a queen as she show such extraordinary favour to such a thing as me? For I could understand it, if it were any other man. For then I should say that beyond all doubt, she actually preferred him to all others in the world, for sheer affection. And yet, as it is, it is quite incomprehensible. For, it might seem, that she must be in love with me herself, returning my affection: and yet it cannot be. For how could such a miracle as she is, the supreme achievement of the Creator, and the concentrated essence of the charm of all her sex, think of such a one as me, even in a dream, as an object of affection? And yet, if not, how is her behaviour to be explained? For I might perhaps believe that she was merely playing with me for her own amusement, were she any other woman than exactly the one she is: but as it is, no one could believe it that had ever seen her for an instant: and she needs no other argument in her defence than every glance at her supplies. And it may be, after all, that she took up with Narasinha merely out of pique, at being so unceremoniously slighted and cast off as a thing of no value by her booby of a husband, and, as it were, also out of gratitude to find herself appreciated at her true value, which she must very well understand notwithstanding all her own beautiful self-depreciation, which is an extra charm enhancing all her other charms: and afterwards, it may be, she has changed her mind, as women do, about Narasinha, without being willing to admit it, even to herself; and come, only the other day, suddenly on me. Aye! beyond a doubt, this would be the true conclusion, and the answer to the riddle, but for one consideration that makes it utterly impossible, that I am only I.
And so as I debated with myself, all at once I heard my own name called aloud in the air. And I looked up, and lo! there was my old friend Haridása,[26]on a camel. And he said: Ha! Shatrunjaya, art thou thyself indeed, or another exactly like thee, or hast thou lost thy senses and thy ears? For here have I been calling to thee, all along the street, without succeeding in waking thee from thy dream, till now. And what can it be, that can so fill thy mind as to stop up all its entrances?
And I exclaimed in delight: Ah! Haridása, thou art come in the very nick of time, the very man, at this moment, that I need most. Get off thy camel, for a while, and come and sit beside me, and find me, if thou canst, an answer to a question that I cannot find myself. And so he did. And as soon as we were seated by the roadside, I said to him: Haridása, listen. Thou knowest me well. Now tell me thy opinion: am I one that a woman might choose out of many for a lover?
And Haridása began to laugh. And he looked at meshrewdly, and he said: Aha! Shatrunjaya the lute-player, so this was thy preoccupation? Art thou one to catch a woman's fancy? O Shatrunjaya, why not? For art thou not a musician, famous in the world, and a man among men, into the bargain? All women love a giant, such as thou art. Any woman of them all might do worse than fall in love with thee. And yet thy very question shows, that in this matter of women, thou art little better than a child, as indeed thou always wert. For even the Deity himself can never tell what man any woman will prefer, or why: as how should he, seeing that she does not even know, herself? And there never yet existed any man whom some woman would not worship, let him be as ugly as you please, or even for that very reason: and yet, let a man be a very Kámadewa, woman after woman will pass him by, without even so much as casting a glance at him out of the very corner of her eye. For a woman's affection depends on her fancy, and that is like the wind, that comes and goes and wavers how and where it will, without a reason that anybody can discover. And it is sheer waste of time to sit and wonder, whether thou art or art not a man that a woman might love. Thou art both, or neither: for the only way to settle thy question is to try. And she will, or she will not, of her own accord. And now, who is she, this beauty who has set thee so knotty a problem to solve?
And I said with indifference: There is no such beauty; for all my perplexity arose from the line of anold song: Nectar when she turns towards thee: poison when she turns away.
And Haridása turned sharp towards me, and looked at me intently for a very long while, saying absolutely nothing. And we sat talking of other things till he rose to go away. And then, at the very moment he was mounting on his camel, he turned, and came back. And he said: Listen! Thou art hiding from me something that maybe I could startle thee by guessing: but no matter. Keep thy secret: but listen to a piece of good advice, which may serve thee at a pinch. If ever thou wouldst have a woman prize thee, never let her see that thou settest any store by her. Treat her as a straw, and she will run after thee as if thou wert a magnet: make thyself her slave, and she will hold thee cheap, and discard thee for another. For women think meanly of their sex, and utterly despise the man who places them above himself: since in her heart every woman longs to be a man, bewailing her misfortune in being born a woman, and praying all her life for one thing only, to be born a man in another birth. And one thing above all she cannot understand, how or why any man should make a fuss about any woman, as all men do: which, just because she is not a man herself, she cannot comprehend. And like jugglers, that are not taken in by their own tricks, women look upon men as mere fools, for being taken in at all. For a woman's charm, to a woman, is not only not a charm at all, but a trick, and a lure, understood, and utterly despised. So now, be aman, and whatever folly thou art meditating, at least beware of being guilty of the very greatest of them all, by doubting of thy own superiority of manhood to the womanhood of any woman, no matter who she be: and earning her contempt, by lying at her feet. And now, farewell! for I have business with Narasinha.
And at the name of Narasinha, I pricked up my ears. And I said, with feigned indifference: Who is Narasinha?
And Haridása spat upon the ground. And he said: One, whom thou art lucky not to know: and yet, his name isapropos. For he is the Queen's lover, and an instance in point: since he leads her by a string, just because he treats her as a trifle, and not, as all her other lovers do, as a gem not to be matched by any other in the sea. And yet he is not, like thee, a man among men, but a man among women. For just as a dancing-girl loves to be treated as a queen, so does a queen love to be treated as a dancing-girl.
And then, all at once, he struck me on the shoulder. And he said, in a low voice: Why didst thou start, when I named Narasinha?
And without waiting for any answer, he got quickly on his camel, and rode away, never looking back.
And I stood, looking after him, with a startled heart, and then I went home slowly, saying to myself: How in the world did he guess my secret, and what did he mean?Was there a warning in his words? And what is all this about the Queen? Did he ever see her in his life? for if he had, he would long ago have discovered that all his rules have exceptions, of which Táráwalí is one: being not only the very gem beyond comparison that he spoke of with contempt, but a woman of women who very certainly never would despise any one at all, least of all the man who thought her exactly what she is, a star, far, far above his own muddy earth: a thing made of some rare celestial matter, differing altogether from anything to be found here below, fetched by the Creator when he meant to make her from some abysmal intermundane mine, where ocean foam and lunar ooze and sandal-wood and camphor lie jumbled up together with the essence of all curves and smiles and whispers and soft kisses and sweet glances and irresolution and long hair. And the image of the Queen rose up before me, laughing as it were in scorn at Haridása, and utterly obliterating everything he said. And I said to myself in ecstasy: Sunset will be here, very soon. And I reached my house, and looked, and lo! there was sitting at the door a Rajpoot, covered with the desert's dust, and holding by the rein a horse that hung its head, trembling still, and white with foam.
And as I came towards him, he stood up, and made obeisance. And he said: Maháráj, thou art come at last, and it was time. And I said: What is the matter? Then he said: Thy mother sent me, and I have ridden night and day. The King thy father is dying, and everymoment he may be dead. And now, if thou carest, either for thy father, or thy mother, or thy throne, there is only one chance for thee, to fly to them as fast as any horse can take thee, without the delay of a single moment. So my message is delivered, and the Maháráj is judge.
And again he made obeisance, and went away on foot, leading his horse behind. And I stood, looking after him in a stupor, like one struck by a bolt from heaven, in the form of his appalling news. And I said to myself: Go I must, or my mother is ousted, and therájlost. And yet if I go, the sun will set in the Queen's garden, and I shall not be there.
And I pushed my door wide open, and went in, and sat down, with my face buried in my hands. And my own words sang in my head, over and over again: Go I must, or therájis lost, and my mother ousted. And the sun will set in the Queen's garden, and I shall not be there.
And I heard a laugh beside me, and I looked up. Lo! there was Chaturiká, standing in the open door! And she looked at me with laughing eyes, and she said: Ha! as it seems, I am just in time to save thy life: for thou art apparently all but dead. And, beyond a doubt, the Queen is a cunning doctor, who understands her patient's case. For she sent me to thee, saying: Go to him, O Chaturiká, since without thee he will die: and help him, how thou canst, to live until the sun has set.
And I stood up, and seized my hair with both myhands. And I groaned aloud, and said: Alas! O Chaturiká, what is a man to do, when two suns set, in opposite directions? And instantly, all the laughter died out of her face. And she looked at me with dark eyes, and she said: Two suns! What dost thou mean? And I told her all, and she listened in silence, till I ended. And then she said, with a sigh of relief: Ah! is that all? And I exclaimed: All? is it not enough for thee? And she said: I was terrified, by thy talking of two suns. For I began to think the Queen had a rival in thy affection. And I laughed, in anger and derision, and I exclaimed: A rival! Thou little fool! I am sorely tempted to beat thee, for daring to think anything of the kind, even in a dream. What! a rival! to Táráwalí! Thou art stark mad. How could she possibly have a rival in the three worlds? But what am I to do? And she said: It is thy choice, not mine. Only when once a sun has set, who can tell, if it will ever rise again? And what am I to say to the Queen?
And as she stood, looking at me, for an answer, there rose into my recollection the image of Táráwalí, leaning towards me in the moonlight, and saying: To-morrow, at sunset, I will be thy dream. And suddenly I exclaimed: Go back to her, O Chaturiká, and tell her that my only sun is the sun that sets in a Queen's garden.
And then, to my astonishment, that singular Chaturiká suddenly threw herself into my arms, and kissed me without waiting to be asked. And seeing me look at her in perplexity, she burst out laughing, and she said withdelight: Ah! ah! So then, after all, there is a difference, as it seems, between Chaturiká and Táráwalí. No doubt some kisses are far sweeter, but the sun must set, ere the lovely digit of the moon rises, and I must do what I can meanwhile, to help thee to keep alive. It was her own order. And moreover she will not be jealous, and will not scold me when I tell her all about it on my return. And I said: Nay, thou saucy little beauty, tell her with all my heart, and add, that her drug was efficacious, since sandal-wood and camphor turn everything that touches them into a little bit of fragrance exactly like their own. And take her hand, and kiss it, and say I send the kiss, like her message, by thy mouth, and here it is.
And I caught her in my arms, and kissed her as she struggled, not willing this time to be kissed at all, exactly on her laughing lips, and then she went away.
And I said to myself in ecstasy, as she disappeared: Out on the very notion of leaving Táráwalí in the lurch, and losing the very essence of the nectar of the lady of my dream, so kind, so clever, and so wonderful as she is! Well did she understand, how the very sight of this audacious littlechetíwould act like a balm on the fever of my longing for herself: carrying about with her, as she does, a reminiscence of the intoxicating fragrance of the great champak flower, whose messenger she is, likea female bee, scattering another's honey as she goes. Aye! Chaturiká is like a letter, smelling of the sandal of the hand that wrote it, far away. And Táráwalí understood it all, and sent her; not being jealous, as Chaturiká says, and indeed, as she said herself, last night. As if a star of heaven could possibly be jealous of a little Ganges pot![27]Aye! little did my mother dream, when she sent to fetch me, what influence she had against her. As if I would purchase any kingdom in the world at the price of sacrificing my sunset with the Queen! And how can I help it, if the King my father chose just this unlucky astrological conjunction, to die? Or what good can be done by haste? For if he is dead already, as is very likely, all is lost, and it is useless to go at all. And if on the contrary, he lives for a little longer, I shall find him still alive, if I start to-morrow. And is it likely he will live or die exactly so, as to make my starting now either necessary or advantageous? And shall I take the risk, and throw away the very fruit of my birth, for nothing at all? And what would Táráwalí think of me, if I left her in the lurch, counting her inestimable favour as a straw? Beyond all doubt, she would wipe me from her memory as a thing beneath even contempt, like a sieve, all holes,into which it is futile to pour anything at all. No, I will keep my sunset, even if I lose my kingdom. And yet, why should I, after all? For to-morrow when I actually start, I will go very fast indeed, preparing everything beforehand, and having my horse waiting for me, so as to lose no time when I leave the Queen, carrying with me as I ride the memory of to-night: whereas if I threw her over, and set off to-night, the thought of what I was leaving behind would be so heavy as utterly to prevent me from going along at all.
And so I mused, waiting all the time with fierce impatience for the sun to sink, till at last day came to an end. And then I rose in delight, exclaiming: At last, at last, separation is over, and now it is time! And I went very quickly to the palace, and found thepratihárí: and she led me away straight to the door, and opened it, and I went in.
And then, once more, I stood still, listening in ecstasy to the door as it shut behind me, and tasting, as it were, for an instant the delicious promise that the dusky garden gave me, standing like a diver on the edge of ocean, just before he plunges in, knowing well that it holds a pearl. And I stretched my arms towards the trees, saying to myself: This is not like the other times, but far, far better: for to-night she will not ask me to give her a music lesson, but she said herself, she would be mydream. And I wonder how she will do it, and what she is going to do. And then I went on through the trees, looking from side to side, with a soul as it were on tiptoe with curiosity and anticipation. And far away through the trees I saw the red rim of the full moon rising in a great hurry as if like myself he was dying with impatience just to see her, and saying as it were: I am the only lamp fit to light her, and I am just coming in another moment, like herself. And I passed by her swing that hung drooping, as it were, sadly from its tree, because she was not there. And little by little, my heart began to crave for the sight of her, growing restless and uneasy, and saying to itself with anxiety: What if something had actually prevented her from coming, and the garden were really as empty as it seems, and she were not here at all. And then at last I reached the terrace by the pool, exactly where I saw her first, and looked round with eager eyes, and she was not there. And then, just as I was on the verge of sinking into the black abyss of disappointment, all at once she came out of the shadow of a clump of great bamboos, in which she had been hiding, as it seemed, just to tease me into the belief she was not there, in order to intensify the unutterable delight of her abrupt appearance. And she stood still, as if to let me look at her, between two bamboo stems, just touching them with the very tips of the fingers of each hand, and saying in her soft sweet voice with a smile: Was I not right in choosing this as the only proper place for thee to meet the lady of thy dream, where we met each other first?
And I stood, confounded and as it were, dazed, by a vision so marvellously lovely that it puzzled me, murmuring to myself: Can this be Táráwalí after all, and what has she done to herself, for she has changed, somehow or other, into the incarnation of some deity exactly like her, and she looks like an image of the wife of Wishnu[28]that has somehow or other come down from its pedestal on a temple wall? For she was clothed in some strange colour that hovered between pallid yellow and deep red, seeming to have been borrowed from the setting sun and the rising moon. And it was all pulled forward, so that it clung somehow or other tight to her rounded limbs, making her whole outline from head to foot look like soft marble in the moonlit dusk, and it was collected in front into one great heavy fold that hung straight down like a red pillar from the very middle of her small waist, ending just above her feet in great gold tassels, that nearly touched the huge anklets of green jade with which her two little bare feet were loaded, as if to help them to stand firm. And a soft broad band of gold ran right round her just below her lovely breast, that lay held in its gold cup like a great double billow made of the creamy lather of the sea, prevented from escaping as it swelled up by the delicious dam formed by the curve ofher shoulders meeting the soft bulge of the upper part of her rounded arms, which came out from each side and seemed as it were to wave gently in the air like creeper sprays, free and unconfined, and not like her feet, chained down, but absolutely bare of any ornament at all. And on her hair was not a star, but a great yellow moonstone, that shone with a dull glimmer like a rival moon of her own, and over her left shoulder a long coil of dark hair came out from behind her head and hung down like a serpent, ending in a soft wisp like a yak's tail that was tied round with yellow silk. And the only thing that she retained of what she was before was the intoxicating charm of the upright poise of her whole figure, which seemed to say to me as I saw it: I am the one thing about her which she cannot possibly hide or alter, let her do what she will.
And she stood quite still, as I gazed at her in ecstasy, lost in the wonder of my own eyes, looking back at me with her head just a little on one side, and her eyebrows just a very little raised, as if with appeal, and great soft sweet caressing smiling eyes. And then, after a while, she said, looking down: See, my feet are prisoners to-night, to do thee honour, as their lord, and they cannot walk fast or far, but it does not matter, as they will not be wanted, for I have a surprise coming for thee, by and by. But as to my arms, I thought it better to leave them without the encumbrance of any ornament at all. And she waved them gently in the air, and a little smile stole over her lips, and she said: It would only havebeen in the way, if the fancy should come upon thee to say good-bye in thy own fashion. And now, it was very difficult for me to know exactly what to do, so as to place the lady of thy dream before thee, since thou hast never told me what she looked like in the dream. And so thou must forgive me, if I have come in anything short of thy expectation, for I have done what I could. Art thou satisfied with her, as she stands? For if not, I must call my soul to the assistance of its body.
And I stood, unable to speak or move, gazing at her almost in a swoon by reason of the excess of my intoxication; and after a while, I drew a very deep sigh. And she came towards me, very slowly, as I stood rooted to the ground; and she put up her arms, and laid one hand on each shoulder, with a touch like the fall of a flake of snow. And she said: I know what is the matter: thou art spellbound by a return of thy original delusion. But it will leave thee, and thy senses will return to thee, once thou hast said good-bye. And then, seized with frenzy, I caught her in my arms, and suddenly she prevented me from kissing her by putting her hand over my mouth. And she said with a smile: Wait! Am I equal to Chaturiká, for as it seems, thou hast been playing me false? And for all answer, I took her hand, and kissed it, and put it round my neck, and then fell to kissing her in madness, continuing for I know not how long, bereft of my senses by the perfume of her hair and the touch of her arms. And then at last, I took her face in my hands. And I said: Awaywith Chaturiká! Thou knowest all, and art only jesting: and my soul quivers in my body at the sound of thy name. And she laughed, as I kissed her very gently on her two eyes, and she said: Perhaps I know: and yet, I will not forgive thee for Chaturiká, but on one condition. And I said: Ask anything thou wilt: it matters not. Then she said: Look at me very carefully, and think ere thou speakest: and tell me, exactly what it is, in me, that chains thee so to me, which Chaturiká and others are without.
And I said: Stand still, and let me look at thee, and think. And I put her away, and stood back, examining her very carefully just as she had wished, walking round and round her, and saying to myself: It is absolutely useless, for I know what to say without any need of looking, and yet I do not know if I can ever bring myself to stop, since she has given me, as if on purpose to delight me, a task more delicious than I ever had to do before. And all the time she stood absolutely still, patiently waiting till I ended, and looking at me every time I came round, with raised eyebrows and a smile. And at last, I could not endure it any longer, and I said: Ah! come back into my arms, which hunger for thee, and I will answer. And instantly, she came and stood, listening attentively, and caressing my ear unawares, as she listened, with her hand. And I said: Thy question is unanswerable, and my examination nothing to the purpose: since where was the use of looking at thy lovely body to find what is only to be found in thy soul,to which thy body owes the essence of even its own intoxication? For thy soul peeps out, from behind it, in the poise of thy head, and the straight erectness of its carriage, and the aroma of the royalty of sex that oozes, as it were, from its every gesture, mixed, in some unintelligible way, with a soft grace that seems to be all its own. But the spell thou art asking me to catch for thee looks from thy eyes, and lurks in thy lips, and murmurs in thy marvellous voice, which was silent all the while I was considering: and it is, some naive and submissive gentleness in the quality of thy soul, which turns all thy other perfections into instruments of delirium, and yet notwithstanding contradicts them all. For any other woman but thyself possessing even one of them would be proud, whereas thou dost not even seem to be aware that there is anything about thee other than the common. And as it seems to me, it is this, which is the core of thy irresistible fascination, giving to all thy particular elements of loveliness a kind of salt, that mixes with their sweetness to drive me mad.
And she looked at me silently with meditative eyes; and after a while she said slowly: I wish I were a man, only for a moment, to judge of myself and thy answer: for in one way thou art right, since I cannot understand why all men seem to lose their reason, as soon as they see me. And I said: There it is again, the very thing I spoke of, in thy words: and it is so simple, and yet so indescribably delicious, that very glad indeed I am that thou art not a man, but a woman, and that it is I thatam the man. And it would be a crime in the Creator to gratify thy wish by making thee a man, who art the very essence of all womanly perfection and attraction. And for satisfaction of thy wish, look at thyself through my eyes, and thy wish is attained, since I am myself the very mirror provided thee by the Creator for that very purpose. And so learn, by my mouth, that thy spell is something in thee that resembles the peace of a forest pool. And even to-night, all the while we have been together, thou hast been, and art, so curiously quiet, like the breast of a swan, bathing in the water of passion and emotion without even getting wet, and like the snow of Kailàs, never melting even in the sun of noon.
And again she looked at me with curiosity: and she sighed, as if to dismiss what she could not comprehend. And she said: See! the moon has climbed high, and is gazing on the lotuses, and I am tired of standing, and the time has come to give thee thy surprise. And she drew me away by the hand along the terrace, and down its marble steps, till we came to a great tree that hung down over the water like an umbrella, leaning from the bank of the pool, so that nothing could be seen through its wall. And she took me and turned me with my face to the water, and she said: Stand here absolutely still, and do not look round, and I will bring thee thy surprise. And then she went quickly into the trees.
And I stood waiting, exactly as I was told, listening to her steps as she went away, and wondering where she was going, and what she was meditating, and what thesurprise was, when it came. And so as I stood, I said to myself: Can I really be awake, or is it all only a long dream? For I seem to have been dreaming ever since I saw her first. And time slipped away, and still I stood, straining my ears for the sound of her steps returning, and dying to look round, but never looking, and haunted by a feeling that was almost terror, saying to myself: Why is she away so long, and what if she never returns at all?
And so as I stood, with my soul in my ears, turned as it were behind me, suddenly there came round the tree upon the water a great boat of the colour of a lotus leaf, turned up at each end like the neck of a swan. And it came straight towards me, and as it reached me, its boatman stood up, looking at me with a smile.
And I started, and all at once I laughed aloud, for amazement and delight: and even so, I hardly knew her to be herself. For she had cast away all her deity, and turned herself into achetí, resembling a fragrant essence of midnight without a moon, clothed with absolute simplicity in soft dead black, with her own dark hair for her only decoration, tied in a knot around her head like a cloud of misty intoxication, and floating about her shoulders in confusion. And she looked at me with questioning eyes that shone bright in the moon's rays, and said naively, with a smile that almost broke my heart in two: Now I am within a little of being equal to Chaturiká? Is the maid a substitute for the queen that has disappeared?
And as I gazed at her in rapture without giving any answer, she said again: See! now we will float for a little while among the moon-lotuses, before we say good-bye. And this is thy surprise. And it is a delight that I keep for myself alone, and very few indeed are privileged to share it: but to-night, I am the lady of thy dream, and I will not do my favours by halves: and so thou shalt be my partner. And this is my swan's nest, and my floating cradle, in which I do my dreaming: for I can dream dreams as well as thou. And now I am going to dream a little, and we will dream together. And come, for the lotuses are waiting for us.
And I got into the boat, and pushed it out upon the water, and she came to me of her own accord, and locked her arms around my neck. And we drifted to and fro, exactly as the boat chose, on the silent black mirror of the pool, never saying a single word, but kissing each other insatiably with lips that were never tired, lost in the bottomless abyss of the ecstasy of mutual union. And all the time she bathed me with the beauty of her eyes, that like the pool, drew the moonlight down into their dark depths, caressing me with soft hands that touched me like the fall of a leaf, and lips that smiled and trembled like the shadows of the lotuses in the still water's swirl. And the moon rose higher and higher, and the night crept unobserved away, for I was utterly unconscious of the passage of any time. And then at last as I lay, worn out and overcome by the excess ofmy own emotion, and lulled by the gentle drifting of the boat, and wrapt in the delirium of oblivion arising from the unimaginable reality of the lady of my dream, unawares I fell asleep.
And when I awoke, lo! the moon was standing on the very edge of the western sky, and dawn was glimmering in the east. And the Queen was gone! And I leaped out of the boat, which was fastened to the bank, and ran up into the garden, which was as dark and as empty of anything living as a tomb. And after looking for her a long time in vain, at last in despair I went away to the door, and knocked, and it was opened; and there stood, not thepratihárí, but Chaturiká. And I said: Chaturiká, what has become of the Queen? And she said, with emphasis: Forget the Queen, and remember thy father: it is time.
And I started, as if she had run a poisoned needle into my ears; for I had utterly forgotten all about him. And no sooner had I got out of the palace than I ran all the way home through the empty streets. And I found my horse waiting, and I sprang on him, just as I was, and I went out of Kamalapura, making for the desert as if I were running a race with the god of death, to determine which of us should reach my father first. And yet as I rode, I was thinking all the time of one thing only, to return, quicker even than I went away,and listening to my heart that sang without ceasing Táráwalí, Táráwalí, as if keeping time to the rattle of the hoofs of the horse. And after a while, I began to say: If I am to return, it will have to be on another horse: for whatever else dies, or does not die, this horse will die, beyond a doubt, either at the end of his race, or it may be, even before.
And it happened as I said. For suddenly the horse fell, to rise no more, while yet there was far to go: leaving me alone in the desert, with the sun right over my head. And I exclaimed: Alas! out upon fate, and out upon my own folly, for now I have killed my horse, that I loved better than my own soul! Alas! my horse was like my good fortune.[29]And if I had only started in the night, he would have had an easy journey, going slower in the cool hours. And I have offered my horse a sacrifice, and it may be, my kingdom also, to my deity Táráwalí. And yet, what does it matter, after all? Is she not worth all the horses, and all the kingdoms in the world? Aye! I would give them all, for another sunset like last night, with the lady of my dream. But what is to be done now? There is absolutely no help for it, and I must finish my journey how I can, going slowly on my own feet.
And as I said, so I did: and so it came about, that faint and tired and overcome, by hunger and thirst and the long journey and the fierceness of the desert sun, Ibegan to reach my own city only as he was going down. And as I slowly drew near it, making all the haste I could, suddenly there fell on my ear a sound, coming to me from the city, that smote it like a blow. And I stopped short, to listen; and all the hair on my body stood erect. And I said slowly to myself: I have lost the race, after all, for they are wailing in the city, and it can be for one thing only, that it is widowed of its King. Aye! I am too late. And I have killed my horse for nothing, since Death has arrived before me, after all, having annihilated my competition, by taking my horse upon the way. And I have reached my journey's end, just in time to hear the wailing, as if Death were jeering at me, saying as it were in irony: They must travel very fast who think to outstrip me.
And I went on to the palace, never stopping at the gate to ask what I already knew. And they ran to warn my mother, and she came out of the women's quarters, and stood looking at me grimly, covered as I was with dust and perspiration, and almost ready to fall down, for sheer fatigue. And then she said: Fool! thou art too late, and thy brother has the throne. And now thou art little better than an outcast, and hast lost thy father, and thy crown, and me.
And I looked at her, and I said: When did the King die? And she said: Sunset.
And I uttered a shout of laughter, and threw my hands into the air, and fell at her feet in a swoon.
And when I had recovered, in a day or two, I came, so to say, to terms with my loss and my condition: saying to myself: After all, my father had to die, whether I came to him in time, or not: and I could not have saved his life, by my coming, no matter when I came. And so, the only thing I lost, by coming late, is myráj. But what do I care for anyráj, which, in comparison with Táráwalí, resembles a mere pinch of dust, thrown into the other scale? Away with the miserableráj! as if another sunset with the Queen would not be cheaply purchased at the price of all the kingdoms in the world! And I passed my days of absence in doing absolutely nothing but thinking of Táráwalí, and waiting, with a soul almost unable to endure, till the moment of return. And I sent a secret messenger to Kamalapura, saying to him: Go to the palace gate, and ask thepratihárífor achetícalled Chaturiká. And when she comes, tell her by word of mouth, so that nobody may hear thee but herself: Greetings to the Queen from Shatrunjaya, who has lost his throne on her account, and does not care. And when the obsequies are over, he will return to Kamalapura, on the night before the moon is full.
And having sent him off, I waited, while the obsequies went slowly on, with a soul that almost parted from its body with impatience for an answer to my message that might help me to keep alive, saying to myself: She cannot send Chaturiká, as she did before, since it is too faroff for anything but a letter or a message, which will have to do instead. But neither a letter nor a message ever came: though in the meanwhile, my messenger returned with empty hands. And I tortured him with questions, but all he had to say was that Chaturiká had listened, and bidden him to go away. And notwithstanding my bitter disappointment, I racked my brain to find excuses for them both, saying: I am a fool. How could I expect any reply, since after all I never put a question, and silence was the only answer to be given: and beyond all doubt, she is waiting till I come? And is it likely that she would trust a message to a man she did not know? She is keeping her answer to be sent in the form of a summons on the eve of the full moon, which was the only answer I was asking for. And yet, in spite of all that I could think of to cool the fever that burned in my heart, I chafed and pined, sick with anxiety and disappointment, and longing in vain for the thing that never came. And I said sadly to myself: Well, only too well, she knew, that the very shadow of a sign of any kind, from her, would have set my heart dancing like a peacock at the first symptom of the coming of the rain. Or can it be, after all, that she really did send an answer, which has somehow or other lost its way? Aye! no doubt, it must be so, for she is kind, and could not bear to think of the misery she knew I must be suffering every moment that I am not by her side.
And so, perforce, I waited, gnawing at my own heart,until at last the funeral ceremonies were over. And instantly, I took leave of my mother, and turned my back on my relations, and set off at a gallop for Kamalapura, with my heart singing for delight, like an arrow from a bow.