Part 3 (1/2)

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 in my 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 compa.s.sion, 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 pa.s.sionately 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 pa.s.sion, 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 Chaturika in the morning, just to tell me what I know already. For I shall be dying of impatience, 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 Chaturika 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.

XII

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 Tarawali, bathed in the nectar of reminiscence and antic.i.p.ation, 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 queen like 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 s.e.x, 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 amus.e.m.e.nt, 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 b.o.o.by of a husband, and, as it were, also out of grat.i.tude 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 Haridasa,[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! Haridasa, 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: Haridasa, 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 Haridasa began to laugh. And he looked at me shrewdly, 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 wors.h.i.+p, let him be as ugly as you please, or even for that very reason: and yet, let a man be a very Kamadewa, woman after woman will pa.s.s 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 an old song: Nectar when she turns towards thee: poison when she turns away.

And Haridasa 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 s.e.x, 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 a man, 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 p.r.i.c.ked up my ears. And I said, with feigned indifference: Who is Narasinha?

And Haridasa spat upon the ground. And he said: One, whom thou art lucky not to know: and yet, his name is _apropos_. 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.

XIII

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 Tarawali 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 Haridasa, and utterly obliterating everything he said. And I said to myself in ecstasy: Sunset will be here, very soon.