And I reached it, exactly as I said, on the eve of the full moon. And I said to myself, with exultation: Ha! to-morrow night, it will be full, and red, and round, exactly as it was a month ago, and shining as it did before, upon the boat, and Táráwalí, and me. And at the thought, I laughed aloud, for sheer joy, and came to my own door, and went in. And lo! the very first thing that I saw, when I entered, was my lute, lying on the floor with a broken string, and looking at me, as it were, with reproach. For a ray of moonlight fell exactly on it as it lay, as though to say: See! the moonlight falls not alone on happy lovers, but on those that are deserted! And my heart smote me, as I looked at it, and I exclaimed: Alas! my old love, thou art indeed discarded for another; for I have not given thee a single thought, ever since I saw her first. Bitter indeed must be the sorrow of one that is cast, like thyself, aside! And then, I threw myself upon my bed, forgetting instantly my lute and every other thing in the delight of the anticipation of the coming day. And I slept all night, floating as it were on a dark wave of the ocean of sweet expectation, and smiling so to say in my sleep.
And when morning came, I arose, and went to and fro, singing aloud for joy, and saying to myself: Now the moment of reunion approaches, and the miserable fever of separation is nearing its end, for the sun has arisen and is rushing to his home in the western mountain, and his race, and my desolation, will finish exactly together. And now, Chaturiká is on her way, and will soon be here, looking like the dawn of my delight in a delicious feminine form. And she will look at me with her laughing eyes, and murmur, Sunset, exactly as before: and exactly as before, I shall kiss her, and send her back to the Queen. And so I waited eagerly, on the very tiptoe of expectation, with my eyes fixed upon the door. But day slowly travelled on, and yet she never came. And little by little, my delight slowly turned into perplexity, and anxiety, till at last, as hour succeeded hour, each longer than ayuga, my heart began to sink, lower and lower still, and I became actually sick with the agony of my disappointment. For the sun was indeed rushing down into the night, and yet she never came. And time after time, I went to the door, and opened it, and looked out, but no Chaturiká was there, and nothing was to be seen but the people in the street.
And when at last night actually fell, and found me still waiting, I could endure no longer, but I threw myself upon my bed, and lay in a stupor in the dark, abandoning all hope, and on the very verge of crying like a child. And I said to myself: Is she ill, or is she dead, or has she gone away, or what on earth can be the matter? Orcan it be, after all, that my messenger played me false, and never went? For if she really got my message, long ago she would surely have sent Chaturiká to summon me, knowing that it was impossible for me to come of my own accord, and that I should be sitting waiting with my heart on fire for her summons to arrive. And so I lay, tossing all night long sleepless on my bed, and cursing the moon, which poured as if to mock me a silver flood of light upon the floor, seeming to say: Think what a night it must be in the garden! until in an agony of reminiscence and humiliation, I turned my back to it, and lay with my face to the wall. And when at last day returned, I arose and sat, in deep dejection, worn out, and at my wits' very end, never even daring to look towards the door, which remained obstinately shut. And all day long I sat still in a kind of dream, neither eating nor drinking, and hopelessly waiting still. And at last once more the sun went down, after a day that was longer than a year, leaving me lying in the dark.
And I know not how I got through the night, which I shudder even to remember; but when morning came, I was within a very little of being mad. And burning with fever, hot and cold by turns, for sheer impotence I got up and went out, and wandered up and down the streets, till at last for weariness I was obliged to return, though the thought of my deserted house was almost more horrible than death. And all at once, I looked up, and lo! there was Chaturiká herself, coming towards me in the street.
And at the sight of her, my heart leaped into my mouth, for she resembled the very last link that joined me to the Queen, in a feminine form. But at the very moment that I saw her, she saw me also; and she turned away, pretending not to see me, and went round the corner into another street. And instantly, I leaped after her like a deer, and caught her, almost running to escape me. And then, seeing that there was absolutely no help for it, she stopped, and stood looking at me with defiance, like an animal at bay.
And presently I said: Dost thou not know me, that thou runnest so fast to get away? And she said: I never saw thee: I was only in a hurry. And I said: Now, from bad, it is worse; thou art lying. And why, instead of running away, art thou not rather hastening to meet me? Hast thou no message for me from the Queen? And she said: No: none. And I exclaimed: What! none? Did not my message come to thee? And she said, reluctantly: It came. Then I said: Then the Queen must know that I am here. And why has she never sent? And Chaturiká said: Is it for me to give orders to the Queen? How can I know why she does not want thy presence? If she did, she would send. I am not the mistress, but only the maid: is Chaturiká the equal of Táráwalí?
And as she spoke, the tears rose into my eyes, for I remembered the words of Táráwalí, as she stood up inthe boat. And I took her by the hand, and looked into her eyes. And I said slowly: Thou knowest only too well, for if thou art not her equal, thou art at least her familiar. And now, then, cheat me not: since the matter is to me one of life or death. Am I thy enemy, or art thou mine? Was it not only the other day that thou didst kiss me of thy own accord, as I have sat, these last two days, hoping against hope for thee to come and do again? And what have I done, to bring about such change? I liked thee better, far better, laughing: thou wert so joyous, and so pretty, and like the ecstasy in my own heart, in a woman's form. Aye! as I looked at thee, it made my heart echo, to hear thee laugh, since we were both of us devotees of one and the same deity, Táráwalí, thy Queen and mine. And now, something has come about, I know not how, to spoil it all.
And as I spoke, all unconsciously I gripped the hand that I held of hers in mine, and it may be, that my hand whispered to her own what my voice alone strove in vain to say. For as I gazed at her in anguish, with tears in my eyes, strange! all at once I saw her face change, and her lip quiver, and tears stealing, as if against her will, into her eyes too. And she tried to laugh, without succeeding: and all at once, she squeezed my hand that held her own, with force. And she said, in a voice that trembled as it spoke, half laughing and half weeping: Nectar when she turns towards thee: poison when she turns away. And suddenly she snatched her hand away from mine, and turned as if to go.
And I took her by the shoulder as she stood with her face averted, and I said: See, Chaturiká, my life is in thy hands. Come, do me this last favour, and I will never trouble thee any more. Wilt thou go straight to the Queen, and say I met thee in the street, and somehow or other, by hook or crook, contrive, that she shall send for me again, and very soon, for otherwise I cannot live much longer? Wilt thou? Wilt thou? And she hung her head, and said in a voice so low that I could hardly hear it: I will try. And I said: Go then, for I will delay thee no longer. And yet, listen! Come to me often, as thou art passing by, for the very sight of thee is life.
And without speaking, she rolled her head up in her veil, and went away very quickly. And I stood, looking after her as she went: saying to myself: There goes my last hope. And lucky for me it was that I caught her: for without her, I would by this have driven my own sword home into my heart.
And I went home feeling like a man saved from the very mouth of death, saying to myself: Now then, happen what will! for at least I have secured the key of the door leading to Táráwalí, in the form of her maid. And now, it may be, I shall see her very soon. For beyond a doubt, there has been some blunder, or perhaps she was occupied with business of moment, that left herno leisure for affairs like mine. And all my fears may have been in vain. And at least, I can wait with hope, and not as I did before, in horrible despair, cut off from every means of communication. And I sat with a heart almost at peace, prepared to wait till the coming of Chaturiká on the following day. But it turned out contrary to my expectation. For I had been waiting for little more than a single hour, when there came a knock at the door. And when I opened, there stood Chaturiká again. And she said rapidly: The Queen will await thee in the garden to-night at sunset.
And I exclaimed, with a shout of joy: Ha! sunset! It is as I thought. Well I knew there was some mistake, and that she could not fail. And beyond a doubt, she had forgotten the time, remembering only when reminded by thee. Victory to thee, O Chaturiká! for to thee alone I owe the sunset, and now I will give thee for it almost anything thou canst ask. And Chaturiká said: Give me nothing. And she stood in silence, looking at me with strange eyes, in which, as it seemed, pity and curiosity seemed to be mingled with compunction and some element that I could not understand. And suddenly she came to me, and laid her hand upon my arm. And she whispered very quickly, as if she was half afraid of what she said: Do not go. And then, she turned and vanished from the room, as if to escape before I had time to ask for explanation.
And I said to myself, looking after her in wonder: What! do not go? So then, as it seems, there will bedanger. But little does she know me, if she thinks that any danger would keep me from the Queen. And indeed, in the garden there is room for any number of assassins, if Narasinha or anybody else were jealous of my visiting Táráwalí. Danger! And I laughed in derision, that was mixed with intoxication, as if the very notion of danger from a rival added, somehow or other, to the sweetness of anticipation, by stamping me as a claimant to the affection of Táráwalí who was greatly to be feared. And all at once, light broke in, as it were, upon my soul. And I cried out in ecstasy: Danger! Ha! at last, all the mystery is solved. It was danger that prevented my Táráwalí from sending me any message or bidding me to come. And all the while she knew it, and she had to be very careful, fearing for my life. And suddenly, I struck my hands together, and I cried: Ha! what a fool I am! Why, she told me so herself, when I saw her for the second time, and yet I had forgotten it. And all this while, in the peevishness of my own oblivion and presumption, I have been blaming her, expecting things utterly unreasonable, and loading her extraordinary sweetness with miserable suspicions arising from my own imagination, and the blindness of my insatiable passion. Ah! Táráwalí, forgive me if I wronged thee! But I will make it up to thee to-night, and beg for thy divine forgiveness at thy feet. And all this hesitation was all the while only on my account: and yet, brute that I was! I never guessed it, till Chaturiká gave me, as it were, a hint, and put meupon the scent. And what else was her delay but an irrefutable proof of her affection, showing that she chose even to allow herself to be misinterpreted rather than let me run on her account into the danger that she knew.
And instantly, all the clouds of darkness and desolation rolled away in a body from my soul, leaving it bathing in the ruddy glow of sunset, and passion, and emotion, exactly as it was before. And I waited, plunged in the ecstasy of reminiscence and anticipation, till at last the sun began to sink. And then, once more I went, on feet dancing with agitation and delight, to the palace gates, and saw thepratihárístanding waiting as before. And as I entered, never doubting that she had instructions of my coming, she barred the way, saying: What is thy business? And I said: I have come by appointment to see the Queen. Then said thepratihárí: Thou must come another time, for the Queen is not here.
And I stopped short, as if she had suddenly run a dagger into my heart. And I said in a low voice: Not here? It cannot be. Thou art mistaken. And thepratihárísaid: There is no mistake at all. She is gone. And I said: Gone? Where? When? And she said: She went within this hour, to visit her maternal uncle; for want, as I think, of something better to do. And when she will return, I cannot say.
And then, my heart stopped. And I stood for a single instant, erect, and I turned, as if to go away. And all at once, there came from the very middle of myheart, a cry, that tore me as it were to pieces, and I fell in the street like a dead man.
And when I came back to myself, I looked, and saw an old man with a long white beard gazing at me with anxiety, sitting by my bed in which I was lying, having been brought home I know not how as I lay in a swoon. And when he saw me look at him, he began to rub his hands together, with a little laugh. And he said: Ha! then, as it seems, after all, thy soul has returned at last: and it was time. For it had been away so long that I was beginning to doubt whether it had not said good-bye to thy body, for good and all. And now it has come back after all, by the favour of Ganapati, and the help of the Ayurweda, and one of Dhanwantari's[30]most unworthy devotees. And I said slowly: How long have I been dead? Then said that old physician: It is now nearly sunset again, and thou hast lain there without moving ever since they brought thee here from the street, about the time of sunset, yesterday. And now what is it, that has struck thee down, as if by a thunderbolt? For how can the physician cure, unless the patient tells him of his case?
And I closed my eyes for a while, as if to rest: and after a while I said: O father, there is nothing to tell, to one of thy experience and skill: for since childhood, ithappens to me, every now and then, to fall down and lie in a trance: and when once I come back, all is over, and I go on as before, till next time. And now there is nothing to be done, but for me to reward thee for thy care, to which I owe my life. And though it is a thing of little or no worth, I will count it, for thy sake, as if it were a thing of price. And I gave that old man gold, and sent him away delighted, for all I wanted was to be rid of him as quickly as I could, lest I should fall into a fever and begin to rave, and betray my secret against my will.
And then, for many days, I lay, living very slowly, like one in a long dream, drinking water, and eating almost nothing, and going over in my mind every detail of my life since first I saw the Queen. And it seemed to me, as I mused, as if I had died long ago; and everything appeared to me like something that had happened long ago, to some other than myself. And day very slowly followed day, and life came back to me as it were with hesitating steps, as though it knew that it was coming to one that scarcely cared to bid it welcome. And then at last there came a day when I looked about with curiosity to see what might be seen, and lo! there in a corner lay my lute upon the floor.
So, after a while, I said: Lute, canst thou tell me, how it feels to be discarded? And I went and took it up, and strung it, and began to play. And as fate would have it, there came over the strings as I touched them a sadness like my own, that seemed to say: Come, we arefellow-sufferers, and now let us weep together, since there is absolutely nothing else to do. And suddenly, the lute fell from my hands of its own accord, and I fell with it upon the floor. And I wept, as if my very soul was about to abandon my body, for sheer despair. And as I wept, I came slowly back to the self I was before; yet so, that the half of me was left behind, and lost for ever. And I said to myself: I have been robbed by Táráwalí of all that was worth anything in my soul, and it only remains to consider, what is the next thing to be done.
And that very evening, I went out of my house for the first time since I fell down. And avoiding the streets, I wandered along by bypaths, till I reached the river bank. And I hid myself in the bushes, and lay watching the sun go down across the river, and thinking of Táráwalí and her pool, till unawares I went to sleep. And how long I slept I know not, but I woke suddenly in the night, roused by the voices of two that were talking close beside me, not knowing there was anyone by, to overhear. And as I listened carelessly without curiosity, all at once there fell on my ear the name of Narasinha.
And instantly, I crawled, like a panther, little by little, nearer to those two talkers, until I could easily hear everything they said. And one was saying to the other: It will be very easy, and the reward is very large. Then the other said: But why does Narasinha want to have him slain at all? And the first voice answered: What a question! Anyone can see that thou art a stranger tothis city. Dost thou not know that he is the lover of the Queen, aye! and so, that she is more than his life? And yet, for all that, he cannot keep her to himself, since she is not only a Queen, and above all his controlling, but also a lady of many lovers, roaming like a bee, from flower to flower, as she will, and yet leaving each in the lurch almost as soon as it is tasted, being as unsteady as the flame of a lamp in the wind, and as deep and as crooked as a river, amusing herself as if she were a femaletrinamani[31]by watching the irresistible effect of her own attraction on the straws that she finds and throws away, as soon as she has tested them, regardless of what afterwards becomes of them, since they are then absolutely useless, resembling mere husks, whose kernel she has eaten. And if he could bear to do without her, Narasinha would slay her out of jealousy with his own hands: but as it is, he cannot, however much she laughs in his face. And so he repays himself by wreaking his vengeance on her lovers, in lieu of herself: and one by one, they all pay the penalty of their presumption, in having anything to do with her, with their lives: giving him hard work to do, since she finds and casts off a new lover almost every day. And of all, the only one that has escaped is Shatrunjaya, the mad player, who lost his reason altogether when he found himself cast adrift without knowing why: and was accordingly passed over by Narasinha, as not even needing to bekilled, since he was as good as dead already, and beyond the reach of revenge.
And the second voice said: What a fool must this Shatrunjaya have been, to go mad, over such anabhisarikáas this Queen! Then said the first with emphasis: Thou art thyself the fool, speaking at random without ever having seen her: for she is a very Shrí, laughing all the other women to utter scorn; and small wonder that he fell a victim to such a spell, being as he is very young. And moreover, she is the cleverest woman in the three worlds, and easily persuades every lover that she is doing as he wishes to oblige him, and not as is really the case making him a puppet of her own. And not one of them all ever even knows of the existence of any other lover than himself. And Shatrunjaya is all the more to be excused, because she really took a momentary fancy to him, and cloyed him for a day or two with nectar that soon turned poison, as Chaturiká says.
And the second voice said: Who is Chaturiká? And the first replied: She is the niece of my cousin on the mother's side, and she tells me all. And Táráwalí took her for a confidentialchetíon account of her cleverness and beauty: as well she might, since the little jade is very pretty, and clever enough to be prime minister to any king. And between the two of them, who are more than a match for any man that ever lived, Shatrunjaya had no chance at all. Little did he know Táráwalí, thinking to keep her beauty to himself, or confine theocean of her charms to a tank! Poor fool! what a trick they played him! For Chaturiká says, that Táráwalí gave another lover the veryrendezvousshe fixed for him, bidding herpratihárísay she was gone. Well he might go mad, for as I think, any other man might lose his reason, to be kept standing outside the door, while his mistress was kissing another man!
And he laughed out loud, as he ended: but I rose up from the ground, drawing mykattárífrom its sheath. And I leaped out of the bushes suddenly upon those two laughers, who took me for a ghost in the form of the god of death. And I struck at one with the knife, and as luck would have it, I all but severed his head from his body at a single sweep. And I turned upon the other as he stood terror-stricken, staring at me with open mouth, and I said: Thy jest was very good, but mine is better still. I am Shatrunjaya, and not mad after all: but thou shalt not tell my secret to Narasinha; whom I will send after thee in good time. And I struck the knife into his eye, so hard, that I could scarcely pull it out again by putting my foot upon his head.
And I left them lying, and went home quickly, laughing to myself, and saying: Now they are paid beforehand, with their work still to do, in coin very different from that of Narasinha. And his own turn will come, by and by. And I wonder whose life I have saved, for I never caught his name. But no matter: I have learned, what is left for me to do: and it only remains to determine on the way. Alas! Narasinha, thystar is beginning to decline. Thou hast just lost thy assassins, and presently I will deprive thee of Táráwalí, and last, I will rob thee of thy life.
And then, day by day, I rose early in the morning, and ate the breakfast of a bull-elephant, and went out into the streets, hunting, not for a forest beast, but for a human quarry. And I roamed up and down through the city all day long, examining everything I met that had the shape of a woman with the eye of a hunting leopard. And so I continued, day after day, without success. And then at last, on the night of the Dipáwali, when the streets were full of people, suddenly I saw her coming straight towards me. But she never saw me, by reason of the crowd: and the prey is not thinking of the hunter, when the hunter is thinking of the prey. And I hid myself in a doorway, and let her pass by; and I followed her with stealthy steps until at last she turned away into a narrow lane that resembled the jaws of death. And I caught her up with silent tread, and all at once I took her by the wrist as she went, with a grip like an iron band.
And she turned and saw me, and she started, and uttered a faint cry. And instantly I said: Cry out, even once, and I will sever thy head from its body. Make absolutely no noise, and I will do thee absolutely no harm. But come with me, for I need thee for a littlewhile. I have been at pains to find thee, and now I will not let thee go. But unless thou dost exactly as I tell thee, I will treat thee as I did thy accomplice on the river bank, a little while ago. And she turned a little paler as she listened, understanding that I did not speak in jest. And I said: Go on before me, in silence, to my house, for well thou art acquainted with the way. And I will follow, just behind, and if thou makest, as thou goest, so much as a sign, thy head will roll from its shoulders on the instant. And she bowed her head, and went. And when we reached the door, I opened it and we went in. And I shut the door, and there was no other light than the moonlight, which fell in a flood upon the floor. And I said: Sit there in the moonlight, for I have something to say to thee. And she sat upon the floor, watching me with fascination like a bird before a snake.
And I walked to and fro before her, and suddenly I stopped, and I said: Tell me, O Chaturiká, what would the Queen say, if I told her of thy habit of babbling to thy relations of her secrets? And for answer, Chaturiká began to sob, grovelling upon the floor at my feet. And I said: Sit still, thou little fool, and listen: for thou shalt earn my forgiveness by doing as I bid thee: and if not, I will save the Queen trouble by becoming thy executioner myself. To-morrow night, I must see her in the garden as before: and it can only be by thy contrivance. And now, how is it to be done?
And Chaturiká said, weeping: To-morrow night itcannot be, since she has given that evening to another. And moreover, for thee every night is equally impossible, for she will not see thee any more. And how canst thou pass thepratihárí, or enter by the door, without her permission? And now between the Queen and thee, I am in the jaws of death. For thou wilt slay me, if I do not find thee entrance into the garden: and she will, if I do.
And I looked at her with scrutiny and I said: I will help thee out of jeopardy. There must be another entrance to the garden. Is there no other door? And she said unwillingly: There is, but none can enter from without, unless he has the key, which the Queen trusts to no custody but her own.
And I said: Then the way is found, luckily for thee: and thou art saved, since none will ever guess thy part in the arranging for my entry, if as I imagine thou art only sufficiently adroit to procure for me a key without her knowledge. And that I leave to thee, only be careful to bring it in good time, before to-morrow evening. And in the meanwhile, go and tell that other lover that the Queen has changed her mind: and put him off to any other day, it does not matter which, seeing that it will never come at all: since for the future, I am going to be the only lover of the Queen.
And then, Chaturiká looked at me in such amazement that it deprived her for an instant of her terror, and suddenly she began to laugh. And I stooped and lifted her, and whirled her in the air, and stood her breathlesson her feet. And I took her two hands and held them tight, and I said: Dost thou feel what thou art in hands like mine, a feather, and a nothing, and a straw? Now listen and be wise. Stand out of the way, between the Queen and me, for we shall crush thee, and the battle is one that I mean to win. And now I am going to show her something that she never saw before, the strength of a man: for a woman presumes, forgetting altogether that she owes all to the forbearance of one who can sweep her away if he chooses, like a wild elephant snapping a twig. And if anything goes amiss by any treachery of thine, I will break thee in pieces with my bare hands, hide where thou wilt, making it unnecessary even to betray thee to the Queen. And now, what have I ordered thee to do?
And Chaturiká said humbly, quivering like a wild heifer that is suddenly tamed by the sound of a tiger's roar: To put off a lover and bring thee a key.
And I said: Thou hast still forgotten the thing without which both are useless, and that is, to show me the outside of the door to be opened by the key. And that thou shalt do at once. Go out now, and walk without stopping straight to the door: and I will follow in thy steps. And do not look back, until thou art standing just beside it, and then turn for a single instant, and meet my eye without a sign. And then begone where thou wilt until to-morrow.
And I opened the door and let her out, and she went away very quickly, leading me through the city and pastthe palace gates, and a long way round the palace wall, until at last she suddenly came to a dead stop, beside a little door in the wall, that stood exactly opposite a ruined temple of the great god. And there she turned and looked at me, and then continued on her way until she disappeared. And I stood and watched her go, saying to myself: I think she will bring me the key to-morrow, without dreaming of betraying me: for I scared her almost to death, and she is frightened. And I was very sorry for her, and yet it was the only thing to do, for there was no other means of reducing her to absolute submission. And yet she was beautiful to look at, even so, resembling as she did a feminine incarnation of audacity suddenly changed into unconditional obedience by standing between two appalling dangers, and only doubting which was the most to be feared. And very strange is the difference fixed by the Creator between a woman and a man: since the very timidity that makes him utterly contemptible only makes her even more beautifully delicious than she was before.
And next day, I waited all the morning for Chaturiká to come, and noon arrived without her coming. And I said to myself as I sat waiting: She will come by and by, and I cannot expect her very early, for she may have many other things to do as well as mine. And it may be no easy task that I have given her to do. Andnow, what am I to say to Táráwalí, when I come upon her in the garden, and see her, O ecstasy! again? And strange! at the very thought of seeing her again, my heart began to burn, as if turning traitor to my own determination. And I said sadly to myself: Alas! I am afraid, or rather I am sure, that the very sight of her will be like a flood, in which every fragment of my resentment against her for treating me as she has done, and every atom of my resolution, and every recollection of all that I have heard to her discredit, will be swept away like chips and straws. Do what she may, I cannot drive my affection for her out of my heart, which obstinately clings to her image, utterly refusing to be torn away. And notwithstanding all that those two rascals said in her disparagement, my soul laughs them to utter scorn, telling them they lie. And who knows? For who could believe that a body so unutterably lovely could harbour a soul so unutterably base as they said, on evidence such as theirs? Aye! my recollection of her soul is an argument in her favour that nothing that they said can overcome, and I could forgive her absolutely anything, when I think of the gentle sweetness that echoed in her every word, resembling a perfume somehow mixed with her voice. And yet if my resolution wavers, even now, how will it be when she actually stands before me as she will to-night? And yet, how is it possible to absolve her for her inexplicable behaviour to me?
And so as I mused, touching all unconsciously thestrings of my lute which was lying in my hands suddenly a thought came into my mind of its own accord. And I took the lute and unstrung it, and chose from among its strings one, which I rolled like a bangle on my wrist. And I said to the lute aloud: Old love, we will work together: for if indeed she is my enemy, she is thine as well. And if, as those assassins said, she is only a body without a soul, playing on us both merely for her own amusement, then we will give her together a music lesson of a novel kind, and teach her that the deadliest of all poisons is a love that has been betrayed.
And suddenly I heard loud laughter, like an echo to my words. And I looked up, and lo! there was Haridása, standing in the open door. And he said: What is this, O Shatrunjaya? Whom art thou about to poison, or who is going to poison thee? And hast thou solved thy problem, since I saw thee from the camel's back, pondering on thy own beauty? Or hast thou arrived already at the poison in the bottom of love's cup? How is good advice thrown away upon a fool! Did I not warn thee? Wilt thou never understand that the nectar of a woman is like the red of dusk, lasting for but an instant, and like the cream of milk, turning sour if it is kept, and like foam of the sea, which exists only during agitation, melting away into bitterness and ordinary water as soon as it is still? As indeed every woman well knows, without needing to be told, and therefore it is that she is nectar always to a stranger, and insipid, even when she is not very disagreeable, to her friends,losing her fascination, like the thirst of the antelope[32]on Marusthalí, for all that approach her too near: since all her delusion depends upon her distance, and vanishes altogether by proximity. Keep her always at a distance, O Shatrunjaya, if thou art anxious to remain under the spell.
And I said: Haridása, I am only a fool, as thou sayest, but thou art wise. And now, wilt thou serve me at a pinch, by something more than good advice? And he said: By what? Then I said: To-night, I have business that I cannot avoid, and yet I cannot go out, unless I can find one whom I can absolutely trust to remain here till morning in my place, to guard a deposit. And so, wilt thou be my guard? And Haridása said: I cannot refuse, if thy need be extreme. For men to be absolutely trusted are very rare, and I am one. And is thy deposit large? And I laughed, and I said: Nay, on the contrary, it is very small. And it will be here in another moment, for I have been waiting for it all day long. And as I spoke, lo! Chaturiká appeared in the door, as if by a toss of the curtain,[33]And I said to Haridása: Here it is.
And seeing that I was not alone, Chaturiká turned, as if to go away. And I called out to her, saying: Wait but for a single instant, O thou destitute of patience, and give me back my key that I gave thee last night,since I am in sore need of it. And then she came to me in silence and gave me a key. And I said: Hast thou put off the petitioner as I desired, to another day? And she said: Yes. And then I went to the door, and shut it. And I said to Haridása: I have an appointment, with one who may be friend or foe, for I cannot tell. But here is a hostage, that I leave behind me. Keep her for me, and never take thy eyes off her, and give her back to me, safe and sound, on my return. But if the sun rises to-morrow, and I am not here, cut her head off, for she will have led me into a trap, all unaware that she was setting it for herself as well.
And Haridása looked thoughtfully at Chaturiká as she stood aghast, rubbing his chin with his hand. And he said slowly: It would be a great pity, my pretty maiden, if he came late, for thy head looks very well as it is on thy little body, which without it would look as melancholy as a palm broken short off by the wind.[34]And yet, do not weep. For Shatrunjaya is a bad judge of men and women, and I am a very good one. And if, as I think, he is altogether wronging thee by his suspicion, thou hast absolutely nothing to fear from me, and I will be thy father and thy mother till he returns to free thee in the morning. So dry thy tears, and I will return to thee in a moment to make thee laugh.
And he led me away out at the door, and shut it behind him. And he said: Shall I tell thee the name of thy very pretty deposit? Dost thou think I do not know what thou art endeavouring so clumsily to hide? Nectar when she turns towards thee: poison when she turns away?
And as I started, staring at him in stupefaction, he said with a laugh: Ha! thou hast heard it before? Didst thou not betray to me thy secret unawares, repeating it before? What! dost thou not know, it is the Queen's verse, which all the people in the city sing of every man who dooms himself by becoming the Queen's lover? I could have told thee, even without seeing Chaturiká at all, that it was Táráwalí herself who was thy nectar, and is going to be thy poison; and well I understand who is the friend or foe to whom thou art just about to go. It is the Queen.
And he took me by both hands, and looked straight into my eyes. And he said: Fool! and art thou actually hoping still for the nectar that is gone? Thy hope will be in vain. I told thee, without naming her, to hold her very cheap, if ever thou wouldst have her hold thee dear. It was useless to restrain thee, for thou wouldst not have believed me, no matter what I said. There was but a single chance. For the moment that she sees that her fascination works, and that her lover lies gazing without reason or senses at her terrible beauty, she is satisfied, and throws him away: whereas had he only the strength to resist it, she might against her will fallin love with him herself for sheer exasperation at her impotence, in his case alone. But she swept thee clean away like a straw in a flood, and thou art lost. Thou hast been playing unaware with a queen-cobra, that has smitten thy soul with the poisonous fascination of its magnificent hood and its deadly eyes, and bitten thy heart with its venomed fang; and now all remedies are worse than useless, and come too late. I can see death written on thy brow, and almost smell its odour in the air. Beware of Narasinha!
And he went in, and shut the door upon himself and Chaturiká, leaving me alone in the street.
And I stood in the street, staring at the door as it shut behind him, as motionless as a tree. And I murmured to myself: Nectar when she turns towards thee: poison when she turns away! So then, it is the Queen's verse, sung of others and sung of me! And this was the meaning all the time! And this is what Chaturiká was thinking of, every time she said it, laughing at me in her sleeve, as beyond a doubt she has laughed at many another man before! And this is what the people say! And all the time I thought myself exceptional, I was only being made a fool, and one of a large number, and a laughing-stock for the whole city, and branded, as it were, with ridicule and ignominy as a plaything of the Queen, and going about unconsciouslywith her label round my neck: Nectar when she turns towards thee: poison when she turns away!
And suddenly, rage rushed into my heart in such a flood that it felt as if it were about to burst. And from motionless that I was, I began all at once to run in the direction of the palace, as though about to wreak my vengeance on the Queen without waiting for a single instant. And then I stopped abruptly and began to laugh. And I exclaimed: Am I actually going mad, for as yet it is still day, and I cannot even get into the garden till the sun has set. And after thinking for a moment, I went away to the river bank to wait till the sun was down. And there I threw myself down at full length upon the ground, with my chin upon my hands.
And then, strange! as I lay, little by little my heart began to cool, and all its fury ebbed gradually away. For as I thought of Táráwalí, it seemed as it were to say to me: I cannot find room, on second thoughts, for any rage at all, since I belong absolutely to the Queen. And all my rage turned slowly into such unutterable longing that her image seemed to grow dim, seen through the mist of eyes that were suffused with tears, as recollection brought her back to me saying: This is how she looked when she saw thee first, and this again, is how she lay in the swing, and this again, when she stood up before thee, as achetí, in the moonlit boat. And I exclaimed in desperation: Alas! O Táráwalí, must I then condemn thee, whether I will or no? For they all say the same of thee, and as it might seem, it must be true, and yetno matter, for I absolutely cannot either hate thee or believe them, when I think of thee as I saw thee myself. And my heart laughs in scorn at all the efforts of my reason, never wavering for an instant from thy side, like an incorruptible ally, that cannot be induced by any bribe whatever to abandon its allegiance. Aye! would she but open her arms to me again, I should forget everything else in the three worlds, to snatch her in my own. How is it possible to hate her? And beyond all doubt, that rascal I slew hit the mark, when he said that Narasinha cannot quarrel with her, being utterly unable to do without her, disarmed in all his attempts to oppose her by his own conviction that she is absolutely indispensable to his own life. For she may have deserved ten thousand deaths, and yet what does it matter, if for all that she is a thing that once lost or destroyed can never be replaced, as indeed she is, resembling theKaustubha,[35]or the third eye of the Moony-crested god, of which in the three worlds there is only one. And so since he cannot do without her, she is beyond all reach, and invulnerable, doing with impunity exactly what she pleases, caring nothing whether he loves or hates her, and laughing at the very notion of being brought to book, secure in the magic circle of her own irresistible attraction, whose very power of destroying all others is her own protection, like a spell with a double edge, such that, as that rascal said, she cannot refrain from amusing herself by trying its effect on all.
And who could find it in his heart to blame her for delighting in the exercise of her own spell, like a child rejoicing in its toy, aye! even were he himself its victim, as its effect would be the same, no matter what she did, seeing that she must attract whether she will or no? Being what she is, she cannot help it: it is involuntary and beyond her control. And alas! I fell before it without a shadow of resistance, enslaved even before I saw it by her own dream, not even affording her the pleasure of watching her fascination gradually overcoming opposition, and asserting its power, and subduing me to her domination, against my will. And so I became a thing of no value to her at all, since in my case there was nothing to overcome. Ah! had I only been capable of seeming to be one on whom her charm would not work, then indeed, as Haridása says, I might have prevailed: and she might herself have fallen victim to the man who defied her fascination and laughed in her face, out of pique and irritation at her own impotence. And all the more, if what that rascal said have any truth, that she actually took a momentary fancy to me, strange as it seems. But alas! as he said, it is all too late.
And suddenly I started to my feet with a beating heart. And I exclaimed: Too late! But what if it were not too late, after all?
And as I stood, thinking of it, struck into sudden agitation by my own idea, hope glimmered in the darkness of my soul like the first faint streak of rosy dawn at the end of a black night. And the dream of the barepossibility of bringing back Táráwalí with all her old intoxicating sweetness almost took away my breath. And after a while, I said to myself: Yes, indeed, he actually said, that she took a fancy to me, even though it were only for a moment. And how could he have known it, if she had not herself confessed it to Chaturiká, from whom alone he could have heard it, since very certainly he never learned it from Táráwalí herself? Aye! and was not Chaturiká herself far sweeter at the beginning, just as if she knew I was no ordinary lover, but one with a little foothold in the Queen's heart? And if, then, I was ever there, why could I not return? And if her fancy has gone to sleep, could I not awake it? Can it be already so absolutely dead as never to revive, with not a single spark among the ashes to be refanned into a flame? How would it be, could I but manage to persuade her she was utterly mistaken, in supposing that I was only a miserable victim of her spell? How, if I could convince her that I valued all her fascinations at a straw? Would she not at least be tempted to try them all on me again, if only to test them and discover whether I was lying or in very truth proof against all the power of her charm? And if only she did, what then? For once she began, it would all depend on me, whether she ever stopped any more.
And all at once, I uttered a shout of hope and exultation and excitement, suddenly taking fire at the picture painted by my own craving imagination. And I exclaimed: Ha! who knows? And at least, I can try. And evenif I fail, it cannot possibly be worse than it is already, drowned as I am in misery without her: whereas, if I could succeed! Ah! I would barter even emancipation for a single kiss! And O that my courage may not fail, turning coward at the very first sight of her again! For the struggle to appear indifferent, in such an ocean of rapture, will be terrible indeed, since even now, the very thought of it makes me tremble, being enough to make me fall weeping at her feet. And now the sun is setting, and it is time to go: and in a very little while, fate will decide, whether she and I are to die or live. For I cannot live without her, and unless she will allow me to live with her, she shall not live at all, either alone, or with anybody else. For she will kill me, by driving me away, and I will take her with me, if I am to die.
And then I went away with rapid steps, all through the city, till I reached the little ruined temple, that stood exactly opposite the door that Chaturiká had shown me the night before. And I hid myself behind the image of the Moony-crested god, and watching my opportunity that none should see me, all at once I crossed the street and tried the key in the door, almost shaking with anxiety, lest after all she had played me false, by giving me at haphazard some key that would not fit. But O joy! the key turned, and the door opened, and I went through. And very carefully I closed it again, and then,first of all, I hid the key in a hole in the wall, making sure of my return. And then I drew a deep sigh, almost unable to believe myself once more in that garden which held Táráwalí hidden somewhere in its dark recesses. And I said to myself, with emotion: Ah! now, come what may, at least I shall look upon her again, and very soon. And even for that alone, I am ready to die. And it may very well be that death is close at hand. For if Chaturiká is in the pay of Narasinha, as she very well may be, and has betrayed me, I may be walking straight into a trap. For his assassins may be posted in the trees in almost any number. And little should I care to die, so long as they only slew me on my return; but I am terribly afraid of being slain before I see her. For then indeed I should suffer the agony of a double death.
And I went on slowly in the shadow of the trees, guessing my direction, for I was going by a way I did not know, fearing not at all the death that might suddenly spring out upon me, but dreading far more than death the possibility of its anticipating my discovery of the Queen. And little by little, as nothing happened, I forgot my fears, saying to myself: To-morrow I will give Chaturiká anything in the world, and beg her pardon for suspecting her of breaking faith. But in the meantime, I must above all manage to come upon Táráwalí unawares, and escape her observation until I catch sight of her myself: for if she saw me first, she might hide, or even go away altogether, leaving me to look for her invain, and making all assassination superfluous, since if I do not find her I shall simply die of my own accord, long before morning, of disappointment and despair. And so I went on very slowly, making absolutely no noise, like a Shabara stalking a wild elephant in the forest, dying of expectation, and yet not daring to make haste, for fear of losing all: until at last, after a very long time, I came to the terrace by the pool once more. And then I looked, and suddenly I caught sight of her, standing alone, like a pillar, on the very verge of the terrace steps.
And I stopped short in the shadow of a tree, to watch her for a little and master my emotion, holding my breath, and lost, not only in the ecstasy of being close to her again, but in sheer admiration of the wonder that I saw. For she was dressed as it seemed all in silver gauze, looking ashy pale in the moonlight, and she was standing absolutely straight up, with her two hands clasped behind her head, turning half towards me, so that I could just see her dark hair between her two bent arms, lit up not by a star, but a diadem like a young moon, that shone all yellow as if made by a row of topaz suns, so that she looked like a feminine incarnation of the Moony-crested god, smeared with silver sheen instead of ashes. And as she stood still with her two feet close together, gazing at the pool, with her head leaning a little back against the pillow of her hands, alone in the very middle of the terrace on the very edge of its top step, with nothing but the dusk for her background, resembling a great jar, her solitary silent figure,rising from its narrow base into lustrous moonlit curves that ended in the tall bosses of her breast, spread wide by her opened arms, stood out in a vision of exact and perfect balance, so marvellously lovely, that as I gazed at it, remembering how I held it in my arms, unable to contain my agitation, I uttered a deep sigh.
And instantly, she spoiled the picture, by changing her position, and looking straight towards me. And not being able to see me clearly by reason of the deep shadow that obscured me, she came back along the terrace in my direction, walking exactly as she did before, with the same intoxicating straightness of carriage, and the same rapid and undulating step, till I could have laughed aloud for very joy to see her coming to me, like the desire of my own heart incarnate in her round and graceful form. And as she reached me, she said, with exactly the same low and sweet and gentle voice that I was yearning with all my soul to hear again: Thou art late, for I have been waiting for thee a long time.
And suddenly I came as it were to myself, on the very verge of ruining all, by falling at her feet:[36]saying to myself with an effort: Now then, all is lost beyond redemption, unless I play the man. And I came out of the shadow, saying with obeisance: O lovely Queen, that is thy own fault, and not mine.
And she started back, with a faint cry, exclaiming in the extremity of sheer amazement: Shatrunjaya! How in the world hast thou got in here?
And I answered with a smile, though my heart beat like a drum within me: Ah! thou delicious Queen, in this lower world many things come about contrary to expectation, of which this is one. And if thy own surprise is extreme, so is mine: since, as it seems, my coming is not only unexpected, but unwelcome. And yet how short a time it is, since thou didst entertain me with a sweetness so extraordinary, and so spontaneous, and so mutually tasted, that I thought only to give thee pleasure by repeating the experience, and that is why I came. And if thou art sorry to look at me again, I do not share in thy feeling, since all the pains I have taken to arrive are repaid by even a single glance at thyself. For surely even Indra's heaven cannot hold anything so unimaginably lovely as thou art to-night.
And still she stood, gazing at me with strange eyes, and she murmured to herself, half aloud: Shatrunjaya! It cannot be! And I said: Nay, thou very lovely lady, but it can: since here I am, and I am I. And why not? Didst thou think I had forgot, what could not easily be forgotten, how we floated together in thy cradle among the lotuses? Or is it any wonder if I have thought of nothing else, ever since, but how to return? But as to how I came, it is a secret, that I do not choose to tell, since the fancy may take me to come again. And judging by thy excessive condescension when wemet before, I did not think very much to displease thee, if I ventured to substitute myself this evening for another, who cannot even hope to rival me in the only thing that matters, my unutterable adoration of thyself: since of thy favour we are both of us equally unworthy. And yet, if, as it seems, I was utterly mistaken and the substitution is not to thy taste, I can very easily atone for my blunder by going away again at once. Dost thou really imagine me one to force himself upon a lady who wishes him away? O thou very lovely Queen, not at all. For I am just as good a man among men, as thou art a woman among women: and if I am not to thy taste, then, O thou fastidious beauty, neither art thou to mine. For the essence of every lovely woman's charm is her caress, which springs from her affection, and the desire to make herself nectar to her lover, without which salt, even beauty is beautiful in vain. And I care absolutely nothing for a beauty that does not take the trouble to be sweet. And well I know, by experience, how sweet thou canst be, aye! sweeter by far than any honey whatsoever, if it pleases thee to try. So choose for thyself, whether I shall stay, and revel like a great black bee in thy sweetness, as once I did before; or go away. But let me tell thee, pending thy decision, that if thou dost not take thy opportunity when it offers, it will never more return; for as I said, I do not like coming where my coming is met with distaste. But as I think, if thou wilt allow me to advise thee, and help thee to decision, we may as well make the most of one another,now that we are here, otherwise the moonlight will be wasted altogether, since to-night at least, thy other lover will not come. For I have taken care to exclude him, and we shall not be disturbed by any disagreeable interruption. And so, either thou wilt have to do without a lover altogether, or take me, for sheer want of something else. And the first would be a pity, and all the delicious trouble thou hast taken to deck thy beauty for its proper object, the delight of a lover, would be lost. For in thy silver ashes and thy moony tire, thou needest no third eye to destroy thy enemies, since thy divinity is so overpowering that not to employ it as it was designed to be employed would be a crime.
And all the while I spoke, she stood, as curiously still as if she were made of marble, looking at me quietly, with her head thrown just a little back, and her left hand pressed very tight against her breast, and eyes that I could not understand. For they rested on me absolutely without anger, seeming as it were not to see me at all, but filled with some strange perplexity, as if she were hunting for something in her recollection that she could not find. And when I ended, she continued to stand, exactly in the same position, for so long, that I began to wonder what could possibly be passing in her soul. And I said to myself, as I waited in terrible suspense: Now very likely, in another moment, she willsummon her attendants, and have me ejected, as well she might, for my almost inconceivable impertinence, which almost broke my own heart in two, to utter it at all. And if so it seems, even to myself, what must it seem to her? Aye indeed! for every word, I deserve ten thousand deaths, and I could forgive her, no matter what she did. Aye! and if, in a very little while, she does not speak, I shall be throwing myself at her feet and begging to be forgiven, unable any longer to endure.
And then at last, all at once, her tension relaxed, and she sank back suddenly into her old soft sweetness, with a deep sigh. And her eyes seemed, as it were, to come back to me, and find me for the first time, and there stole over her lips a little smile. And as I saw it, my heart almost broke with delight, for I said to myself: She has changed her mind about me; after all, and now my plan is beginning to succeed. Alas! little did I fathom the unfathomable intelligence of that extraordinary Queen! And presently she said, with exactly the same gentleness in her low voice that made my heart tremble exactly as before, every time it spoke: Thou art, beyond all doubt, the very first man in all the world, not only for effrontery and impertinence, but also, for this, that thou hast succeeded in imposing upon me, which no man ever yet did before. For in my simplicity I had thought thee quite another, making in thy solitary instance a mistake, unusual with me, and making me ashamed: since as a rule, men's hearts are no secret for my own, and I read them at a glance.
And she looked at me with a smile, and inscrutable clear eyes, whose expression was a puzzle to my soul. And I said: Then, since thou readest hearts so easily, why couldst thou not read mine also, as it is very plain thou didst not? And she said: Why very plain? And I said: Why didst thou send no answer to my message, and why didst thou summon me at sunset, and yet go away, leaving me nothing but the scorn of thy servants at thy gate?
And she looked at me in blank amazement, and she said: What dost thou mean? I never got any message, and if any summons came to thee, it was not sent by me. For I have not heard anything of thee at all, since I left thee at midnight in my boat.
And as she spoke, there came a mist before my eyes, and all the blood in my body rushed suddenly into my heart, as if to burst it, and then as suddenly left it, so that I almost swooned. And all at once, I exclaimed with a shout: Chaturiká! Ah! then I was deceived! Ah! then it was not thou! Ah! then I was not slighted by thee as a thing to be despised! Ah! then thou art not as they say, one that forgets and throws away her lovers almost as soon as she has seen them first! Ah! had I only known, I never would have stolen unawares into thy privacy to-night! Say, say, that thou art not such a woman as they say!
And again she looked at me, with those strange quiet eyes; and after a while, she said with a sigh: Thou art right. They say, but they do not understand. And yet,what does it matter what they say? Is it my fault, if every man that sees me is seized as it were with madness, and instantly steps over the line that divides friendship from passionate affection, asking me for what I cannot give him, with such eager insistence, that in my own defence I am driven to dismiss him altogether? And she smiled, and she said, with playfulness and wistful eyes: Must I belong to everyone, merely because he claims me as his own, and his property, and give myself to everyone that sees me in a dream?
And I trembled from head to foot, and I said in a voice that shook with entreaty and emotion like a leaf: Ah! then have I thy permission to stay with thee to-night, notwithstanding my overweening presumption in coming of my own accord without an invitation? Ah! I did not know: my heart is breaking: do not send me away!
And as she stood, looking at me with irresolution, I stretched my hands towards her, absolutely senseless, and not knowing what I did. And she hesitated for yet a little while; and then, with a sigh, she put her two hands into my own. And with a shudder of joy, I pulled her to me, and caught her once more in my arms, and began to kiss her, with hot tears that fell upon her face, quivering all over with the extremity of my agitation, and not believing that it was not a dream.
And then, after a long while, I came, somehow or other, to my senses, and became, a little, master of myself. And I looked at her with eyes dim with affection,and I took her two arms, and put them round my neck. And I whispered in her ear: Now give me a kiss for every day that I have not seen thee, since I fell asleep in thy boat. And as if with resignation and compliance and submission to my will, she did exactly as I told her, stopping time after time, but I would not let her stop. And at last, I stopped. And I said: There are more still owing, for thou hast not counted right. But now I will ask thee a question, just to give thee time to breathe.
And as I held her still in my arms, with her own arms round my neck, she said: Ask. Then I said: Didst thou know, when I came to thee last time, that my coming delayed me in a matter of life and death? And she said: Something I knew, from the chatter of Chaturiká. And I said: Didst thou know that my kingdom depended on my going fast? For as it is, I lost it, all by coming late. And she said: It was no business of mine. And I said: What! wouldst thou deprive me of a kingdom, by placing thyself, for a single sunset, in the other scale? And she said: I did not bid thee stay. I had sent to thee already, asking thee to come: and if another summons called thee, after mine, the choice was thine, between them. I told thee only, I awaited thee: and it was true. And I said: What if I had not come? And she said: Then it may be, thou wouldst have kept thy kingdom, and lost thy interviewwith me. That is all. It was not I, who had anything to do either with causing thy dilemma, or determining its conclusion. And I said: Beyond a doubt, the loss of any kingdom would be a trifle in comparison with thy affection: and yet the loss is certain, and the affection doubtful. For I showed thee very plainly which I chose, and my kingdom is gone. I have thrown it clean away for thy sake. And have I its equivalent? Wilt thou make it up to me by giving me thy soul? And she said, gently: It is not mine, to give away, for I belong to Narasinha, body and soul, as I told thee long ago.
And I said: How canst thou say so, when I hold thee in my arms? And she said, quietly: Thou art but a momentary accident, due rather to my yielding myself, against my own will, and of pity for thy unhappy passion, than to any hold that thou hast on my heart. And Narasinha learned of thy former visit to me in this garden, as very soon he will learn of this also, since I tell him every detail of my life, great or small. And he made me promise never to see thee any more. And so I had intended: but thou hast managed to steal in, somehow or other, of thy own accord. It is not by my doing that thou art here now at all.
And I let her go, and stood gazing at her with amazement, that was mixed with bitter disappointment and irritation, and fierce exasperation at this obstacle of Narasinha, who, out of my reach, and hiding behind her as a screen, issued orders that I was to be shut out ofher garden and banished from her presence, whether she would or not. And my heart swelled with resentment and indignation, and I said: O Táráwalí, Narasinha may shut his eyes, or not, as he chooses, but I am very different, and will not take orders as to thee, from him or anybody else. Thou art my mistress and not his. And she shook her head, and she said, very gently: Nay, thou dost not understand. I am not anybody's mistress. I am my own mistress, and do exactly as I please, whether he or any other like it or not. There lives not the man who shall say to me: Here is a line, and over it, thou shalt not step. And whatever I do, I do, of my own free will, not of obedience, but of my own consent. I have given my body and soul away, but my will is mine.
And I said with emphasis: I have bought thee at the price of a kingdom, and become a beggar on thy account, and mine thou art, by right. Dost thou actually tell me, I am to lose my kingdom, and get absolutely nothing in exchange? And she said, always with the same sweet and quiet voice, whose tone never varied, adding by the very charm of its gentle music fire to the exasperating sting that lay in the words it said: I have nothing at all to do with thy kingdom, and if thou hast lost it, I am very sorry: yet blame not me for its loss, but thyself alone, for the choice was thine. And moreover, I am not for sale. I give myself, or part of me, to anyone I choose. It is for dealers and merchants to bargain. I never bargain. I am a Queen. And I said in wrath: Thou shalt give thyself no longer to anyonebut me. Thou hast already cheated me by making me the loser in a bargain where I lose all, gaining nothing in exchange. But I will have either my kingdom or thyself: and if not the kingdom, which is gone, then thee. And she said quietly: Say nothing rash, or harsh, or ill-considered. It is not I that have cheated thee out of thy kingdom: it is no one but thyself.
And I exclaimed: What! didst thou not cheat me by telling me thou didst love me long ago? And she broke in instantly, and said: I said nothing of the kind: it is thy own imagination. I never told thee anything so false as that I loved thee. And I said: Nay, not in words, but in a language deeper far than any words. What woman ever gave a man what thou hast given me, without telling him very plainly, he was the object of her love? And she said quietly: It was but thy own inference, and utterly unwarranted. And I said: Why didst thou then allow me to make love to thee at all? And she said, very gently: I did not ask, nor even wish thee, to make love to me at all. But I was touched by thy emotion, and thy passion, and thy miserable longing, and willing to soothe it, and gratify it, for an instant, letting thee taste that nectar for which thou wert so obviously dying: for I am kind.
And I exclaimed with a shout: Kind! Why, what is thy kindness but the very extremity of unkindness? What! and did all thy caresses mean absolutely nothing? And she said, very gently: They meant exactly what they were, gifts and boons, bestowed of sheer compassion: and if from their receipt, thou hast drawn the conclusion that thy affection was returned, it is not so: it is only thy own unjustified construction, for thou art not, and never can be, anything to me, but the thing that thou wilt not be, a mere friend. And I said: What kind of a woman art thou to betray me with kisses? And she said: I am only what I am: but thou art most unfair to me, and instead of peevishly demanding of me what I cannot give, and growing so unreasonably angry, thou oughtest rather to be very grateful to me, for giving thee anything at all. I told thee almost as soon as I had seen thee, in the very beginning of all, that I belonged, body and soul, to Narasinha: and yet notwithstanding, I took pity on thee, for thy misery, and gave thee, by concession, what I might very easily have refused, humouring thy weakness like that of a child, crying for what he cannot have. But never did I promise thee anything beyond: and I even told thee, if thou canst remember it, that it might injure thee and could not do thee any good. But thou wert blind, and as it were buried in thy dream. Did I not warn thee, and entreat thee beforehand, not to blame me, when the dream was over, and reality returned? And when I had surfeited thy longing, and dismissed thee, I meant it to be the end, for it was all I had to give. In all, it is not I, that have in any way whatever deceived thee: thou hast all along only deceived thyself. And if I have deceived at all, it is myself alone I have deceived, by expecting any gratitude for the boon of my compassion,and the favour that I poured on thee with no miser's band, because I blamed myself for being innocently guilty of becoming the unintentional object of thy passion, and its involuntary cause.