Thank God I am a man,Not a philosopher!’
Thank God I am a man,Not a philosopher!’
Thank God I am a man,
Not a philosopher!’
‘The kind messages she sent me! The pleasant surprise she has prepared for me!’ repeated the minister’s son in a hard, dry tone. ‘My lord will be pleased to tell me how she heard of my name?’
‘I was sitting one night,’ replied the prince, ‘in anxious thought about you, when at that moment the princess coming in and seeing my condition, asked, “Why are you thus sad? Explain the cause to me.” I then gave her an account of your cleverness, and when she had heard it she gave me permission to go and see you, and sent these sweetmeats for you: eat them and I shall be pleased.’
‘Great king!’ rejoined the young statesman, ‘one,thing vouchsafe to hear from me. You have not done well in that you have told my name. You should never let a woman think that your left hand knows the secret which she confided to your right, much less that you have shared it to a third person. Secondly, you did evil in allowing her to see the affection with which you honour your unworthy servant—a woman ever hates her lover’s or husband’s friend.’
‘What could I do?’ rejoined the young Raja, in a querulous tone of voice. ‘When I love a woman I like to tell her everything—to have no secrets from her—to consider her another self——’
‘Which habit,’ interrupted the pradhan’s son, ‘you will lose when you are a little older, when you recognise the fact that love is nothing but a bout, a game of skill between two individuals of opposite sexes: the one seeking to gain as much, and the other striving to lose as little, as possible; and that the sharper of the twain thus met on the chess-board must, in the long run, win. And reticence is but a habit. Practise it for a year, and you will find it harder to betray than to conceal your thoughts. It hath its joys also. Is there no pleasure, think you, when suppressing an outbreak of tender but fatal confidence, in saying to yourself, “O, if she only knew this?” “O, if she did but suspect that?” Returning, however, to the sugar-plums, my life to a pariah’s that they are poisoned!’
ExpandHaving said this, he threw one of the sweetmeats to the dog.
ExpandHaving said this, he threw one of the sweetmeats to the dog.
‘Impossible!’ exclaimed the prince, horror-struck at the thought; ‘what you say, surely no one ever could do. If a mortal fears not his fellow-mortal, at least he dreads the Deity.’
‘I never yet knew,’ rejoined the other, ‘what a woman in love does fear. However, prince, the trial is easy. Come here, Muti!’ cried he to the old woman’s dog, ‘and off with thee to that three-headed kinsman of thine, that attends upon his amiable-looking master.’[67]
Having said this, he threw one of the sweetmeats to the dog; the animal ate it, and presently writhing and falling down, died.
‘The wretch! O the wretch!’ cried Vajramukut, transported with wonder and anger. ‘And I loved her! But now it is all over, I dare not associate with such a calamity!’
‘What has happened, my lord, has happened!’ quoth the minister’s son calmly. ‘I was prepared for something of this kind from so talented a princess. None commit such mistakes, such blunders, such follies as your clever women; they cannot even turn out a crime decently executed. O give me dulness with one idea, one aim, one desire. O thrice blest dulness that combines with happiness, power.’
This time Vajramukut did not defend talent.
‘And your slave did his best to warn you againstperfidy. But now my heart is at rest. I have tried her strength. She has attempted and failed; the defeat will prevent her attempting again—just yet. But let me ask you to put to yourself one question. Can you be happy without her?’
‘Brother!’ replied the prince, after a pause, ‘I cannot;’ and he blushed as he made the avowal.
‘Well,’ replied the other, ‘better confess than conceal that fact; we must now meet her on the battlefield, and beat her at her own weapons—cunning. I do not willingly begin treachery with women, because, in the first place, I don’t like it; and secondly, I know that they will certainly commence practising it upon me, after which I hold myself justified in deceiving them. And probably this will be a good wife; remember that she intended to poison me, not you. During the last month my fear has been lest my prince had run into the tiger’s brake. Tell me, my lord, when does the princess expect you to return to her?’
‘She bade me,’ said the young Raja, ‘not return till my mind was quite at ease upon the subject of my talented friend.’
‘This means that she expects you back to-morrow night, as you cannot enter the palace before. And now I will retire to my cot, as it is there that I am wont to ponder over my plans. Before dawn my thought shall mature one which must place the beautiful Padmavati in your power.’
‘A word before parting,’ exclaimed the prince: ‘you know my father has already chosen a spouse for me; what will he say if I bring home a second?’
‘In my humble opinion,’ said the minister’s son, rising to retire, ‘woman is a monogamous, man a polygamous creature, a fact scarcely established in physiological theory, but very observable in everyday practice. For what said the poet?—
Divorce, friend! Re-wed thee! The spring draweth near,[68]And a wife’s but an almanac—good for the year.
Divorce, friend! Re-wed thee! The spring draweth near,[68]And a wife’s but an almanac—good for the year.
Divorce, friend! Re-wed thee! The spring draweth near,[68]
And a wife’s but an almanac—good for the year.
If your royal father say anything to you, refer him to what he himself does.’
Reassured by these words, Vajramukut bade his friend a cordial good-night and sought his cot, where he slept soundly, despite the emotions of the last few hours. The next day passed somewhat slowly. In the evening, when accompanying his master to the palace, the minister’s son gave him the following directions.
‘Our object, dear my lord, is how to obtain possession of the princess. Take, then, this trident, and hide it carefully, when you see her show the greatest love and affection. Conceal what has happened, and when she, wondering at your calmness, asks about me, tell her that last night I was weary and out of health, that illness prevented my eating her sweetmeats, but that I shall eat them for supper to-night.When she goes to sleep, then, taking off her jewels and striking her left leg with the trident, instantly come away to me. But should she lie awake, rub upon your thumb a little of this—do not fear, it is only a powder of grubs fed on verdigris—and apply it to her nostrils. It would make an elephant senseless, so be careful how you approach it to your own face.’
Vajramukut embraced his friend, and passed safely through the palace gate. He found Padmavati awaiting him; she fell upon his bosom and looked into his eyes, and deceived herself, as clever women will do. Overpowered by her joy and satisfaction, she now felt certain that her lover was hers eternally, and that her treachery had not been discovered; so the beautiful princess fell into a deep sleep.
Then Vajramukut lost no time in doing as the minister’s son had advised, and slipped out of the room, carrying off Padmavati’s jewels and ornaments. His counsellor having inspected them, took up a sack and made signs to his master to follow him. Leaving the horses and baggage at the nurse’s house, they walked to a burning-place outside the city. The minister’s son there buried his dress, together with that of the prince, and drew from the sack the costume of a religious ascetic: he assumed this himself, and gave to his companion that of a disciple. Then quoth the guru (spiritual preceptor) to his chela (pupil), ‘Go, youth, to the bazaar, and sell thesejewels, remembering to let half the jewellers in the place see the things, and if any one lay hold of thee, bring him to me.’
Upon which, as day had dawned, Vajramukut carried the princess’s ornaments to the market, and entering the nearest goldsmith’s shop, offered to sell them, and asked what they were worth. As your majesty well knows, gardeners, tailors, and goldsmiths are proverbially dishonest, and this man was no exception to the rule. He looked at the pupil’s face and wondered, because he had brought articles whose value he did not appear to know. A thought struck him that he might make a bargain which would fill his coffers, so he offered about a thousandth part of the price. This the pupil rejected, because he wished the affair to go further. Then the goldsmith, seeing him about to depart, sprang up and stood in the doorway, threatening to call the officers of justice if the young man refused to give up the valuables which he said had lately been stolen from his shop. As the pupil only laughed at this, the goldsmith thought seriously of executing his threat, hesitating only because he knew that the officers of justice would gain more than he could by that proceeding. As he was still in doubt a shadow darkened his shop, and in entered the chief jeweller of the city. The moment the ornaments were shown to him he recognised them, and said, ‘These jewels belong to Raja Dantawat’s daughter; I know them well, as I set them only a few monthsago!’ Then he turned to the disciple, who still held the valuables in his hand, and cried, ‘Tell me truly whence you received them.’
While they were thus talking, a crowd of ten or twenty persons had collected, and at length the report reached the superintendent of the archers. He sent a soldier to bring before him the pupil, the goldsmith, and the chief jeweller, together with the ornaments. And when all were in the hall of justice, he looked at the jewels and said to the young man, ‘Tell me truly, whence have you obtained these?’
‘My spiritual preceptor,’ said Vajramukut, pretending great fear, ‘who is now worshipping in the cemetery outside the town, gave me these white stones, with an order to sell them. How know I whence he obtained them? Dismiss me, my lord, for I am an innocent man.’
‘Let the ascetic be sent for,’ commanded the kotwal.[69]Then, having taken both of them, along with the jewels, into the presence of King Dantawat, he related the whole circumstances.
‘Master!’ said the king on hearing the statement, ‘whence have you obtained these jewels?’
The spiritual preceptor, before deigning an answer, pulled from under his arm the hide of a black antelope, which he spread out and smoothed deliberately before using it as an asan.[70]He then began to fingera rosary of beads each as large as an egg, and after spending nearly an hour in mutterings and in rollings of the head, he looked fixedly at the Raja, and replied:
‘By Shiva! great king, they are mine own! On the fourteenth of the dark half of the moon at night, I had gone into a place where dead bodies are burned, for the purpose of accomplishing a witch’s incantation. After long and toilsome labour she appeared, but her demeanour was so unruly that I was forced to chastise her. I struck her with this, my trident, on the left leg, if memory serves me. As she continued to be refractory, in order to punish her I took off all her jewels and clothes, and told her to go where she pleased. Even this had little effect upon her—never have I looked upon so perverse a witch. In this way the jewels came into my possession.’
Raja Dantawat was stunned by these words. He begged the ascetic not to leave the palace for a while, and forthwith walked into the private apartments of the women. Happening first to meet the queen dowager, he said to her, ‘Go, without losing a minute, O my mother, and look at Padmavati’s left leg, and see if there is a mark or not, and what sort of a mark!’ Presently she returned, and coming to the king said, ‘Son, I find thy daughter lying upon her bed, and complaining that she has met with an accident; and, indeed, Padmavati must be in great pain. I found that some sharp instrument withthree points had wounded her. The girl says that a nail hurt her, but I never yet heard of a nail making three holes. However, we must all hasten, or there will be erysipelas, tumefaction, gangrene, mortification, amputation, and perhaps death in the house,’ concluded the old queen, hurrying away in the pleasing anticipation of these ghastly consequences.
For a moment King Dantawat’s heart was ready to break. But he was accustomed to master his feelings; he speedily applied the reins of reflection to the wild steed of passion. He thought to himself, ‘the affairs of one’s household, the intentions of one’s heart, and whatever one’s losses may be, should not be disclosed to any one. Since Padmavati is a witch, she is no longer my daughter. I will verily go forth and consult the spiritual preceptor.’
With these words the king went outside, where the guru was still sitting upon his black hide, making marks with his trident on the floor. Having requested that the pupil might be sent away, and having cleared the room, he said to the jogi, ‘O holy man! what punishment for the heinous crime of witchcraft is awarded to a woman in the Dharma-Shastra?’[71]
‘Great king!’ replied the devotee, ‘in the Dharma-Shastra it is thus written: “If a Brahman, a cow, a woman, a child, or any other person whatsoever, who may be dependent on us, should be guilty of a perfidious act, their punishment is that they be banished the country.” However much they may deserve death, we must not spill their blood, as Lakshmi[72]flies in horror from the deed.’
Hearing these words the Raja dismissed the guru with many thanks and large presents. He waited till nightfall and then ordered a band of trusty men to seize Padmavati without alarming the household, and to carry her into a distant jungle full of fiends, tigers, and bears, and there to abandon her.
Mounting their horses, followed the party.
Mounting their horses, followed the party.
In the meantime, the ascetic and his pupil, hurrying to the cemetery, resumed their proper dresses; they then went to the old nurse’s house, rewarded her hospitality till she wept bitterly, girt on theirweapons, and mounting their horses, followed the party which issued from the gate of King Dantawat’s palace. And it may easily be believed that they found little difficulty in persuading the poor girl to exchange her chance in the wild jungle for the prospect of becoming Vajramukut’s wife—lawfully wedded—at Benares. She did not even ask if she was to have a rival in the house,—a question which women, you know, never neglect to put under usual circumstances. After some days the two pilgrims of one love arrived at the house of their fathers, and to all, both great and small, excess in joy came.
‘Now, Raja Vikram!’ said the Baital, ‘you have not spoken much; doubtless you are engrossed by the interest of a story wherein a man beats a woman at her own weapon—deceit. But I warn you that you will assuredly fall into Narak (the infernal regions) if you do not make up your mind upon and explain this matter. Who was the most to blame amongst these four? the lover,[73]the lover’s friend, the girl, or the father?’
‘For my part I think Padmavati was the worst,shebeing at the bottom of all their troubles,’ cried Dharma Dhwaj. The king said something about young people and the two senses of seeing and hearing, but his son’s sentiment was so sympathetic that he at once pardoned the interruption. At length, determined to do justice despite himself, Vikram said, ‘Raja Dantawat is the person most at fault.’
‘In what way was he at fault?’ asked the Baital curiously.
King Vikram gave him this reply: ‘The Prince Vajramukut being tempted of the love-god was insane, and therefore not responsible for his actions. The minister’s son performed his master’s business obediently, without considering causes or asking questions—a very excellent quality in a dependant who is merely required to do as he is bid. With respect to the young woman, I have only to say that she was a young woman, and thereby of necessity a possible murderess. But the Raja, a prince, a man of a certain age and experience, a father of eight! He ought never to have been deceived by so shallow a trick, nor should he, without reflection, have banished his daughter from the country.’
‘Gramercy to you!’ cried the Vampire, bursting into a discordant shout of laughter, ‘I now return to my tree. By my tail! I never yet heard a Raja so readily condemn a Raja.’
With these words he slipped out of the cloth, leaving it to hang empty over the great king’s shoulder.
Vikram stood for a moment, fixed to the spot with blank dismay. Presently, recovering himself, heretraced his steps, followed by his son, ascended the siras-tree, tore down the Baital, packed him up as before, and again set out upon his way.
Soon afterwards a voice sounded behind the warrior king’s back, and began to tell another true story.