Part 30 (1/2)

”Sandip Babu,” I said, ”I wonder how you can go on making these endless speeches, without a stop. Do you get them up by heart, beforehand?”

Sandip's face flushed instantly.

”I have heard,” I continued, ”that our professional reciters keep a book full of all kinds of ready-made discourses, which can be fitted into any subject. Have you also a book?”

Sandip ground out his reply through his teeth. ”G.o.d has given you women a plentiful supply of coquetry to start with, and on the top of that you have the milliner and the jeweller to help you; but do not think we men are so helpless ...”

”You had better go back and look up your book, Sandip Babu. You are getting your words all wrong. That's just the trouble with trying to repeat things by rote.”

”You!” shouted Sandip, losing all control over himself. ”You to insult me thus! What is there left of you that I do not know to the very bottom? What ...” He became speechless.

Sandip, the wielder of magic spells, is reduced to utter powerlessness, whenever his spell refuses to work. From a king he fell to the level of a boor. Oh, the joy of witnessing his weakness! The harsher he became in his rudeness, the more did this joy well up within me. His snaky coils, with which he used to snare me, are exhausted--I am free. I am saved, saved. Be rude to me, insult me, for that shows you in your truth; but spare me your songs of praise, which were false.

My husband came in at this juncture. Sandip had not the elasticity to recover himself in a moment, as he used to do before. My husband looked at him for a while in surprise. Had this happened some days ago I should have felt ashamed. But today I was pleased--whatever my husband might think. I wanted to have it out to the finish with my weakening adversary.

Finding us both silent and constrained, my husband hesitated a little, and then took a chair. ”Sandip,” he said, ”I have been looking for you, and was told you were here.”

”I am here,” said Sandip with some emphasis. ”Queen Bee sent for me early this morning. And I, the humble worker of the hive, left all else to attend her summons.”

”I am going to Calcutta tomorrow. You will come with me.

”And why, pray? Do you take me for one of your retinue?”

”Oh, very well, take it that you are going to Calcutta, and that I am your follower.”

”I have no business there.”

”All the more reason for going. You have too much business here.”

”I don't propose to stir.”

”Then I propose to s.h.i.+ft you.”

”Forcibly?”

”Forcibly.”

”Very well, then, I will make a move. But the world is not divided between Calcutta and your estates. There are other places on the map.”

”From the way you have been going on, one would hardly have thought that there was any other place in the world except my estates.”

Sandip stood up. ”It does happen at times,” he said, ”that a man's whole world is reduced to a single spot. I have realized my universe in this sitting-room of yours, that is why I have been a fixture here.”

Then he turned to me. ”None but you, Queen Bee,” he said, ”will understand my words--perhaps not even you. I salute you. With wors.h.i.+p in my heart I leave you. My watchword has changed since you have come across my vision. It is no longer __Bande Mataram__ (Hail Mother), but Hail Beloved, Hail Enchantress.

The mother protects, the mistress leads to destruction--but sweet is that destruction. You have made the anklet sounds of the dance of death tinkle in my heart. You have changed for me, your devotee, the picture I had of this Bengal of ours--'the soft breeze-cooled land of pure water and sweet fruit.' [27] You have no pity, my beloved. You have come to me with your poison cup and I shall drain it, either to die in agony or live triumphing over death.

”Yes,” he continued. ”The mother's day is past. O love, my love, you have made as naught for me the truth and right and heaven itself. All duties have become as shadows: all rules and restraints have snapped their bonds. O love, my love, I could set fire to all the world outside this land on which you have set your dainty feet, and dance in mad revel over the ashes ...

These are mild men. These are good men. They would do good to all--as if this all were a reality! No, no! There is no reality in the world save this one real love of mine. I do you reverence. My devotion to you has made me cruel; my wors.h.i.+p of you has lighted the raging flame of destruction within me. I am not righteous. I have no beliefs, I only believe in her whom, above all else in the world, I have been able to realize.”