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: Chaturika! 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.

XXVII

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 Chaturika. 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 interview with 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 of her garden and banished from her presence, whether she would or not. And my heart swelled with resentment and indignation, and I said: O Tarawali, 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 anyone but 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.

XXVIII

And I listened, so utterly confounded by the very simplicity of her apology, which overturned all my accusations, and put me in the wrong, that I stood in silence, unable to find anything to say. And in my stupefaction, I began to laugh. And I said: Ha! Nectar when she turns towards thee: poison when she turns away! Hast thou never heard the Queen's verse? And she said: What! wilt thou actually lay on me the burden of refuting the silly slander of a rhyme, circulated by little rascals merely for want of something else to say? Can I help what they say, or shall I even stoop to listen when they say it, who will say anything of queens, without shame for the envious venom of their own base insignificance, knowing all the time absolutely nothing, but making mere noise, like frogs all croaking together in a marsh? Or if I must absolutely answer, in spite of my disdain, how can I prevent any lover, such as thyself, from persuading himself of what he wishes to believe? For all of them resemble thee, behaving like unreasonable bulls, the very moment that they see me, and pestering me like flies, to my torment, and yet would blame me for driving them away. And every one of them, exactly like thee, imagines me his own, for no reason that I am ever able to discover, although I tell them all, exactly as I told thee, that I belong to Narasinha.

And I said in wrath: I will slice off the head of Narasinha, by and by, as I have done already for some of his tools. And I will not be the plaything of a moment, to be cast aside the next. I have lost a kingdom for thy sake, and will have thee to repay me, whether thou wilt or no. And she said with a smile: Thou art angry, and talking nonsense in thy anger, as angry men will. Dost thou not see that thou art bereft of thy senses? For, kingdom or no kingdom, how canst thou be so silly as to propose to force me, willy nilly, to love thee when I do not love? If I loved thee, I should say so, and all force would be superfluous: if not, it would be not only useless, but injurious to thy own cause, seeing that the more thou forcest, the less wilt thou obtain: nay, whereas now thou art indifferent, thou wilt bring it about that I shall hate thee in the end, as I am beginning to do a very little even now. And then it will be worse for thee in every way. For thou dost not seem ever to remember that I am, after all, not only a woman, but a queen.

And I looked at her as she spoke, saying to myself: She is wrong, for nobody looking at her ever could forget it, even for a moment, just because, like the grace of a lily, it is forgotten by herself, and she would still be a queen, even if she were not a queen at all. And she looks at me, notwithstanding the biting reproof in her words, with exactly the same intoxicating and caressing sweetness, as if I were still a dear friend with whom she were unwilling to quarrel. And I gazed at her, yearning towards her with every fibre of my soul, and yet exasperated almost beyond endurance at the thought that she was keeping me like a stranger at a distance from her heart, in order to preserve it for another. And after a while, I said slowly: If thy affection is not to be given to me, it shall never be given to anybody else. And she said, as if with curiosity: Thou art surely mad. For how canst thou prevent any other from following thy own example, and doing just what thou hast done thyself, losing thy reason at the sight of me, as all men always do? Dost thou not see that my power to excite affection is far greater than thine to prevent it? And I said: It would be very very easy for me to prevent all others from ever loving thee again.

And she looked at me with eyes, in whose unruffled calm there was not even the faintest shadow of any fear. And she said quietly: I understand thee very well, and yet for all that I tell thee thou art raving, and thou art, without knowing it, very like the very man thou hatest most, Narasinha. For often he has said to me the very same thing that thou art saying now: and yet, though according to thee, the thing is very easy, he finds it so difficult as to be utterly impossible. For he cannot endure to do without me, even in a dream, and cannot therefore bring himself to slay me, as he is constantly threatening to do, knowing very well that he might rather slay himself, since once I am gone, he will never find another me, to put in my place. And this is true, even though I cannot understand it: just as I cannot understand what it is that makes me indispensable to thee or to anybody else. For I know it only by its effect. And so I am my own protection, against all his threats, or thine. And if I had thought otherwise, what could have been easier, since thou talkest of easy things, than to have summoned my attendants and bade them put thee out, when it may be, thy life would have paid for thy marvellous impertinence, in intruding unbidden, as perhaps it still may, without any instigation of my own at all? Thou dost not seem to understand that all this while thy own life is in far greater danger than mine; since thou hast done a thing that will not be forgiven thee by others, though I myself have not only forgiven thee, but well understanding the fiery goad that drove thee into my presence, have treated thee, for yet once more, with kindness and condescension far beyond any deserts of thine. And for all return, thou art threatening even to slay me. But I am destitute of fear.

And she stood before me in the moonlight, that turned her as it clung to all her limbs into a thing beautiful beyond all earthly dreams, absolutely fearless, and with a dignity whose royalty was not only that of a queen, but of loveliness laughing to scorn all possible comparison, seeming to say without the need of any words: Art thou brave enough, and fool enough, to lay rude hands on such a thing as I am, or even if thy folly were equal to thy courage, canst thou find it in thy heart to think of violence offered to it, by thyself or any other, even in a dream? And my heart burned, for sheer adoration, and yet strange! it began to sink at the very same time, as I gazed at her, looking at me quietly in return. For there was something absolutely unanswerable, not only in herself, but in everything she said, and yet her very simplicity that overwhelmed me with its soft irrefutable sweetness increased the torture of my hopeless admiration every time she spoke. And suddenly I struck my hands together in despair. And I exclaimed: Ah! thou marvel of a woman and a queen, I am conquered by thee, and I am on the very verge of falling at thy feet in a passion of tears, craving thy forgiveness as a criminal, so bewildering is the double spell of thy beauty and thy intelligence, and the candour of thy strange soul, which drives me mad with its inexplicable charm. But what does it matter to me, hate me or love me, if I am never to see thee any more? Aye! Narasinha may not find it in him to slay thee for thy wayward and beautiful independence, but then he can see thee every day, exactly as he chooses: whereas I, once I go away this night, am outcast: for well I understand that thou or he will see to it that I never come again. Dost thou imagine I can bear it? And again I struck my hands together with a cry. And I exclaimed: Curse on my birth, and the crimes of the births that went before it, that I was not born Narasinha! for he has cut me from my happiness, and stolen from me the very fruit of being born at all!

And in my frenzy, I seized her in my arms once more, desperately clutching, as it were, at the bliss escaping from my reach in her form. And I said to her, as I held her tight: Tell me, had Narasinha never lived, could I have been to thee what he is now? And she extricated herself, very gently, from my arms, and stood back, looking at me with meditative eyes; and after a while, she said doubtfully, yet with a little smile on her lips: Perhaps. But I am not sure. Thou art a little over-bearing. And yet I like thee, somehow, but I love thee not at all. And yet again, it may be, that had I met thee sooner, I might have looked at thee with other eyes. And I bear thee no malice, if indeed thou art a criminal, for any of thy crimes, since I was their occasion. But what after all is the use of supposition as to what might be were Narasinha away, since as it is, he is here, an obstacle in the way, not to be surmounted by any means whatever? And so, thy case is hopeless. And I tried to make thee understand, in vain: since thou wilt not take denial or listen to any reason. And I went to such a length, out of kindness, as to give thee one single evening, packed as full as it could hold with all the sweetness I could think of, giving myself up, so to say, to the insatiable thirst of thy arms, and thy craving desire to be caressed and kissed by only me, and embodying thy dream, and turning myself into an instrument of that nectar of feminine intoxication for which thou wert ready to die, and putting myself without reserve absolutely at thy disposal, only to find my kindness miserably requited by ingratitude and undeserved reproaches, and even menaces and threats. And as I said, to-night, when by underhand contrivance thou didst force thyself upon me, I never punished thee at all, as many another queen might do, but took pity on thy desolation and forgave and overlooked all thy insolence, without being in the very least deceived by thy fustian beginning, which I easily discerned to be a ruse, to enable thee perhaps to steal back into my favour, all founded on a misinterpretation of the woman that I am. For had I really been what people say, and what, listening to them, thou didst imagine me, thy foolish plan might perhaps have been successful, but I am very different indeed. And yet, even so, thy part was played so poorly, that it failed almost as soon as it began, since it needed but a touch of my finger to make thee drop thy mask, and reveal thyself to be, what all the time I knew thee, a lover in the depths of despair. For love is very hard to hide, and thou couldst scarcely hope to deceive even those who are very easy to deceive, as I am not. And as I watched thy clumsy effort, sitting as it did so ill on one so simple and direct as thou art, I could not prevent my compassion from mixing with a very little laughter, remembering the ass in the Panchatantra, who clothed him in a lion's skin, forgetting that his ears betrayed him, to say nothing of his voice. And now for the second time I have given thee something that I would have refused thee altogether, had caresses of compassion been any argument of love. But understand well, that there will be no third opportunity: for this is thy farewell. Go as thou hast come, for I will not attempt to penetrate thy secret, nor have thy footsteps dogged.

XXIX

And as I listened, I knew that all was over, and that her words were my doom: for I understood that she was stronger far than I, and in a position absolutely impregnable by any efforts I might make. And I stood gazing at her silently with a tumult in my soul that could find no utterance in words. And I said at last, in a very low voice: Is thy decision irrevocable, and am I really never to see thee any more? And she said: Even this time is more than I had allowed thee, and I am afraid for thee. Aye! I fear that thy life is the forfeit thou wilt pay. Yet blame not me for anything that may occur. For Narasinha would have slain thee already, as he is furiously jealous of anything that comes near me in the form of a man, had I not myself expressly interfered in thy behalf, making him swear to overlook thy former trespass on a ground that he considers as his own. But he will not listen to me now. And to-morrow, as soon as he discovers what has taken place to-night, for I cannot hide it, he will take measures to prevent thy ever coming back, very likely such as thou thyself hinted at, of me, a little while ago. Thou art looking at me now for the very last time; and remember, I told thee myself, I will take no blame, if thy temerity turns out to have cost thee dear. Farewell, and if thou canst, forget me, and go away to a great distance, without the loss of a single moment. For in a very little while, thou mayst find, there will not even be the chance, and it will be too late.

And instead of going, I stood, rooted to the spot like a tree, gazing at her thirstily, in a stupor of despair, and saying to myself: What! can it really be possible that I am actually looking at her now, as she says, for the very last time in my life, doomed to go here, or there, in the world, without ever seeing her again, knowing all the while that she is, still, somewhere to be seen, and actually being seen, only not by me? Out upon such horror, for it would be less, even if she were dead! And she, so kind, so gentle, how in the world can she stand there, bidding me with a wave of her hand, in that low sweet voice of hers, to go away to a great distance, to save my life, knowing well, for she is very clever, that she is taking it away, by banishing me for ever? And am I just to be thrown away at the bidding of Narasinha?

And at the thought, all at once I began to laugh with sheer rage. And I said to myself: What! must I turn my back on heaven, and go meekly down to hell, at the order of Narasinha? Would she banish me at all, but for Narasinha? Who in the world is Narasinha? Is Narasinha my master? Is he even her master, for as it seems, she is rather his? Are these his orders, or her own? Ha! now, I wonder. What if after all this Narasinha were only a man of straw, doing exactly as he is told, and acting as her agent and her instrument, for the sake of what she gives him? Is it likely, after all, that he orders, and she obeys? And am I being fooled, and handed over by herself to banishment, or even death, behind the screen of Narasinha?

And I looked at her as she stood, patiently waiting for me to go, with a soul torn to pieces by rage, and suspicion, and love-longing, and flat refusal to go away. And suddenly there came into my recollection Haridasa, saying as he stood outside the door: Nectar when she turns towards thee: poison when she turns away. And I said to myself: So now, she turns away. And can she possibly not know, what becomes of all her lovers?

And I went up to her, all at once, and took her by her two hands, and looked straight into her eyes. And I said: Tarawali, thou choosest thy servants well. I know the use of Chaturika. And now dimly I begin to see the use of Narasinha. Does he never tell thee where he throws the bodies of thy old lovers, when thou hast finished with their souls?

And then, strange! her eyes wavered, as if unable to meet my own. And like a flash of lightning, I understood. And I exclaimed: Ha! have I found at last the question that thou canst not answer, and laid my finger on the flaw in thy consummate skill? So then, this was all but a comedy that thou wert playing, to shift the blame from thy own shoulders and turn me over to extinction at the hands of Narasinha? Ah! thou art thy own mistress, and not one to obey. But ah! thou lovely lady that hast no pity for thy poisoned lovers, it is not the lover this time that shall die. And thou shalt meet thy master for the first time in thy life.

And I looked at her for a single instant in a frenzy of fierce hatred that suddenly blazed up from the ashes of my dead devotion, lying scorned and cheated and betrayed by the idol it adored. And I seized her in the grip of death, and tore from my arm the lute-string that was wound about my wrist. And I said: Dear, I never gave thee thy music-lesson: but now I will give thee a very long one on a single string. And in an instant, I twisted it about her neck, and drew it tight, holding her still as she struggled, in an ecstasy of giant strength. And so I stood, trembling all over, for a very long time. And at last, I felt that she lay in my arms like a dead weight, hanging as it were against her will in the terrible embrace of a lover that loved with hatred instead of love.

And I laid her down very gently, turning carefully away, that I might not see her face. And I went away very quickly, and all at once, as I went, I fell down and began to sob, as if my heart would break. And at last, after a long while, I got up, and stood, thinking, and looking back under the trees. And I crept back on tiptoe, and looked and saw her at a distance, lying in the moonlight, very still, like the tomb of my own heart. And then I turned sharp round, and went away for good and all, without a soul. And I said to myself in agony: Now I have made the whole world empty with my own hand, and it was myself that I have killed, as well as her. And now I will go after her as soon as I possibly can. But there is one thing still to do, before I go, for I have to give another lesson to Narasinha. Only this time I will not use a lute-string, but crush out his soul with my bare hands.

* * * * *

Ha! Narasinha, I have told thee, and thou knowest all. And now thou hast only to count the hours that are left to thee, for I am coming very soon.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 6: Pronounce in three syllables Shut-roon-jye: it means, one who triumphs over his foes. So again, in three syllables, Narasing: which means, man-lion, alluding to one of Wishnu's incarnations. (Europeans do not adequately realise that the short final a, in Sanskrit, is always mute. They pronounce e.g. Rama, Krishna, as if the last letter were long. They are monosyllables.)]

[Footnote 7: "The menace prevented the deed," observes Gibbon, of a would-be assassin of Commodus. That was also the error of the Germans, in 1914.]

[Footnote 8: A heavenly musician.]

[Footnote 9: Dharma does not mean religion in our sense of the word. It means, for every man, that set of obligations laid on him by his caste or status: thus everybody's dharma is different.]

[Footnote 10: A crown prince. Palace intrigues were common in the old Hindoo courts. Each wife thought of nothing but providing the heir to the throne, if not by fair means, then by foul.]

[Footnote 11: Krishna, the lute-player, and flute-player, par excellence. He resembles Odin in this particular.]

[Footnote 12: i.e. the city of lotuses. The final a is mute.]

[Footnote 13: i.e. a line of stars; a constellation; a star intensified.]

[Footnote 14: That is to say, abandoned, dissolute: independence being, in old Hindoo ears, a synonym for every possible species of depravity.]

[Footnote 15: There is here an untranslatable play on manasa and manasi-ja = a feminine god of love.]

[Footnote 16: There is no vulgarity in this idea: it is a poetical degree in the scale of passion. An abhisarika is a lady so mastered by her love that she cannot wait for her lover, but goes to him of her own accord. There are all sorts of conditions laid down to regulate her going: she must not go in broad daylight, but in a thunderstorm, or dusk.]

[Footnote 17: Lawanya means loveliness as well as salt.]

[Footnote 18: The exact equivalent, and indeed the only possible translation of kupandita.]

[Footnote 19: This is due to the peculiar dress of Hindoo women, all in one piece, and put on so that the edge that runs around the feet afterwards runs up diagonally and winds around the whole figure. No national costume was ever better calculated to set off the sinuosities and soft grace of a woman's figure to advantage than the marvellous simplicity of the sari which is nothing more than a very long strip of almost anything you please.]

[Footnote 20: i.e. the clever one: a name, like Nipunika, employed in Hindoo plays to denote the qualities of a grisette: Suzanne.]

[Footnote 21: Anuraktamritam bala wirakta wisham ewa sa.]

[Footnote 22: A female door-keeper. This appears to have been customary in old times. Runjeet Singh had a body-guard of women, dressed like boys.]

[Footnote 23: The roots of these great figs "grow down" (hence their name) from the branches, often coalescing with the trunks into the most extraordinary shapes: it needs no imagination to see Dryads under the bark: they are visible to the naked eye. The huge leaves and great white blossom of the shala make it one of the most beautiful of earthly trees: as the champak is one of the most weird, like a great candlestick of innumerable branches whose pale flower-cups grow out of the end of its clumsy fingers without leaves.]

[Footnote 24: Durga, the inaccessible one, is one of Parwati's innumerable names. It has reference to a mountain steep, with accessory meanings, moral and theological.]

[Footnote 25: There are constant references in Hindoo poetry to swinging, which is a national pastime in India, with a special festival in its honour.]

[Footnote 26: Pronounce as a trisyllable: Haridas.]

[Footnote 27: The Indian women used to send little earthenware dishes, with a lighted wick in their oil, floating down the Ganges, to symbolise their children's lives. Perhaps they do it still: but all these beautiful old superstitious practices are dying away, in the light of "representative institutions." New lamps for old ones!]

[Footnote 28: That is Shri, the Hindoo Aphrodite. Only those who have studied Hindoo goddesses on the old temple walls, where they stand with everlasting marble smiles in long silent rows, buried in the jungles that encircle their deserted fanes, will enter into the atmosphere of this strange description.]

[Footnote 29: Daiwatam hi hayottamah, says Somadewa: a good horse is a divine thing.]

[Footnote 30: The Hindoo AEsculapius. Ayurweda, the science of medicine.]

[Footnote 31: A gem that attracts straws, presumably amber. It is always employed by Hindoo poets as an equivalent of our magnet.]

[Footnote 32: i.e. the mirage.]

[Footnote 33: That is, as if she were a character in a play, coming at her cue. The phrase is common in the Hindoo plays.]

[Footnote 34: This is due to the coal-black stem, which gives to a palm tree shorn of its head the look of a tumble-down smoke-grimed chimney. Unshorn, leaning to the wind, it is the most graceful thing in the world, especially seen against the setting sun.]

[Footnote 35: The great jewel on Wishnu's breast.]

[Footnote 36: Literally, with a sashtanganamaskara: i.e. with an obeisance made by falling prostrate with the eight corners of the body, a form of profound reverence made as to a divinity.]



III

A Story without an End

And then, Maheshwara tossed the last leaf into the air. And as it floated away down the stream, he said to the goddess, as she listened with attention: And yet he never came, as I told thee at the beginning. For Narasinha was beforehand with him, after all.

And the Daughter of the Snow sat silent, looking away down the river after the floating leaf, until it was lost to sight. And then she said slowly: Why didst thou say in the beginning that Tarawali was the most extraordinary of all women, past, present, or to come? For I was deceived by thy encomium, expecting a woman altogether different from her, who was only but a specimen of her sex.

And the Moony-crested god burst into loud laughter. And he exclaimed: Speak low, O Snowy One: for if thy mortal sisters overheard thee betraying their secrets and their cause, they would be very angry, and perhaps begin to curse thee as a traitor, instead of offering thee worship, as they all do now. What! dost thou actually deem her to be but a type of all the rest? Surely, thou must have been asleep all the time that I was reading, after all: since thou hast either misunderstood her altogether, or it may be, wilt not do her justice, out of jealousy: since no woman in the three worlds can ever be trusted to judge another fairly, treating her always as a criminal and a rival, and falling on her tooth and nail, especially if, like Tarawali, she sets custom at defiance, going by an independent standard of her own. But now, let me help thee to see how utterly mistaken is thy estimate of a character so rare as hardly to be matched in the whole of space and time for her cleverness and her candour and her tranquillity of soul, leaving her beauty out of the account, as that one element in her common to a very host of others. For the Creator was not such a bungler as to confine all feminine beauty to a single instance, but scattered it universally, since almost every woman in the world, no matter what her face be like, shares in the wonderful fascination exerted over men by the shape essential to her sex, which is far the most important thing of all, being general instead of special, as every woman seen dimly in the dark, or at a distance, or with her face hidden by a veil, will prove, being then above all most attractive when her face cannot be seen at all: as the story that I told thee of the ugly lady, not long ago, shows, if thou hast not forgotten it.[37] Whereas the thing special to Tarawali was her incomparable soul, in which were mingled elements hardly ever to be found combined, gentleness and strength, and simplicity almost naive, with subtlety beyond all comparison, and pride that never took offence, and superlative beauty with humility, and submissiveness with extreme independence of spirit, and kindness without weakness, and feminine sweetness of disposition with the intellectual vigour of a man, and his courage, and his candour, all of which combined with her extraordinary bodily beauty to make her a paragon of intoxication utterly irresistible to every male[38] she came across, like a very Prakriti in a woman's form.

And Parwati said: How canst thou lavish such praise on a woman so deservedly slain by her infuriated lover, when he suddenly awoke to the discovery of the real nature behind the mask?

And the great god laughed again, and he looked at her shrewdly and he said: Aha! Snowy One, said I not that thou wert asleep as I read? I shall have to repeat to thee the story all over again another time. Dost thou actually not see that all she said, from beginning to end, was absolutely true? For Shatrunjaya told the whole story very well, as he understood it; but he did not understand completely, and made a terrible error in the most important point of all, being led astray by what he had heard, and easily taken in. For blinded by his rage against his rival Narasinha, he came suddenly to the wrong conclusion, and slew her by mistake, never so much as giving her time for any explanation. For her eyes never wavered, as he thought, for guilt, but for quite another reason. And Narasinha really was, exactly as she said, her tyrant, nor had she anything to do with his assassination of her lovers, which he committed all on his own account, out of jealousy, paying no attention at all to her intercession. But in her gentleness, she shrank from the very idea of any violence, and this was the true cause of the wavering of her eyes, foreseeing as she did another attempt on Shatrunjaya, which she could not avert. And my heart was grieved at her death at the hands of a lover whose life she had saved, and would have saved again if she could. For she was worth far more than he.

And the Daughter of the Snow said: But what was she doing with such a multitude of lovers at all?

And Maheshwara said: Thou art like Shatrunjaya himself, biased against her by the insinuations of Haridasa, and the discreditable behaviour of that little liar Chaturika, who betrayed her as well as others, and by the idle talk of the people, which she rightly compared herself to the croaking of so many frogs. For low people always put the very worst interpretation upon the actions of kings, and especially of queens, of whom all the time they know less than nothing, exactly as she said. And Shatrunjaya's opinion of her wavered, in spite of all his worship, being coloured by the scandal that he heard, so that he saw her through its mist, as strangers always do. And if she had too many lovers, it was all the fault of the Creator, who endowed her with such fascination, combined with the kindness of her heart: since she blamed herself for their misery, and could not bear to send them away without making them as it were some reparation for her crime of being beautiful beyond all resistance. And this was her only fault.

Then said the Mountain-born, with emphasis: I hate her: for a woman should confine herself to one.

And Maheshwara said, looking at her with affection: Ah! Snowy One, thou art right, and thou art wrong. For not every woman is a counterpart of thee. And moreover, to be rigidly inaccessible[39] is terribly hard, when a woman is as she was, a very incarnation of bewildering intoxication, and kind into the bargain. For then she resembles a fortress, besieged night and day and mined everlastingly by innumerable hosts absolutely determined to get in; and sleepless indeed must be the garrison that guards it; and often it yields of sheer weariness and fatigue, unable any longer to endure the strain. And Tarawali was absolutely right when she said that her lovers drove her, against her inclination, into the reputation of a lady of many lovers, since they were all so infatuated by the very sight of her that they never let her alone. For love that really finds its object will face ten thousand deaths to reach it, and is very hard to repel. And it laughs in utter scorn at arguments, and bribes, and barriers, and dangers, and refusals, bent with a burning heart upon one thing only, to reach its goal, dead or alive, no matter which. And when a woman is an incarnation of that object, she moves the whole world with her little finger, and is fatal, and raised into a category above all ordinary rules. And Tarawali was moreover in a peculiar position, for her husband had thrown her away of his own accord, so that she actually belonged to nobody but herself, and injured herself alone, if she could not always help yielding when a lover pushed her terribly hard, by touching her heart like Shatrunjaya in the matter of his dream. And very few indeed are the women who would not have done the same, for he was a great musician, and a man among men, and very young. And very rare indeed is the woman who is qualified to censure her. For most women keep their wheel upon the track, either because nobody ever tries to make them leave it, or simply for fear, either of being punished, or of other women's tongues. And not one in a crore could have resisted half the pressure that Tarawali had to bear, for the very greatest of a winning woman's charms is exactly the one which she possessed in supreme perfection, her soft and delicious willingness to oblige and please, and place all the sweetness of her personality at the absolute disposal of her lover, as Shatrunjaya understood at the very first sight of her: a thing so utterly irresistible, that when it is combined, as it was in her, with intelligence masculine in its quality, its owner sweeps away every man's reason like a chip in a flood. And there was a special reason for Tarawali's intelligence.

And the goddess said: What was the reason? And the Moony-crested god said: It was the necessary consequence of the actions of a former birth. For in the birth before, she was a man, doomed by gati[40] to become a woman in the next, by reason of a sin. And she said again: What sin? Then said Maheshwara: Ask me another time, O thou cajoler: for it is a long story, and now I have no more leisure: since I must go and bestow the favour of my presence on a ceremony performed by a pious devotee who has built me a new temple at Waranasi. And canst thou guess who it is?

And the Daughter of the Snow said: How in the world can I guess his name, of whom I never heard before?

And the Moony-crested god said: It is not a he, but a she: being no other than Tarawali herself, in yet another birth. And she is still only a woman, for she has not yet succeeded in raising herself by merit into the condition of a man. And it may be long before she succeeds. For it is easy to sink, but it is hard for any creature to rise into a status of being superior to its own, and the women who emerge into manhood are very rare. For the goodness that is synonymous with real existence[41] is only to be found in those who have behind them the accumulated effort and desert of ages, standing on a peak loftier by far than any of thy father's snowy summits, which cannot be attained in any single birth by no matter what exertions or austerities. But when once any being has attained it, emancipation dawns, touching it into colour more beautiful by far than any tints the rising sun has ever thrown on newly fallen mountain snow.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 37: A very beautiful story in the MS., which has not yet seen the light. The opinion of the deity is corroborated by that very clever woman, Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, who says in one of her letters from Constantinople that if women went without clothes, the face would hardly count at all. Nearly all of them would gain immensely by wearing a permanent veil, but the pretty ones would never consent to it.]

[Footnote 38: Purusha is the philosophical term for the Primordial Male, of which Prakriti is the female antithesis. The god is combining Goethe and Swinburne: the "eternal feminine" and the "holy spirit of man."]

[Footnote 39: See note ante, p. 47.]

[Footnote 40: A very short word for a very long process, and untranslatable by any English equivalent. It means the whole system of the laws of metempsychosis, running in a long chain forward into the future, and back into the past.]

[Footnote 41: That is, sat or sattwa = goodness, or true being.]

THE END