Front matter (continued 2)

X

And the King's voice trembled a little, as he spoke: and when he ended, she remained silent a little while, while the colour came and went upon her cheek. And at last, she laughed a little laugh, and she looked, not at him, but away into the valley, as she said: Nay, but this is a thing altogether incredible and strange. For King Chand, instead of attacking women, has suddenly become, on the contrary, their partisan. And yet I think, that his partisanship is greatly to be distrusted, even more than his old uncompromising enmity. For just as formerly he utterly despised and denounced all women without exception, never having had anything to do with even one: so now he suddenly becomes their champion, on the evidence of only a single instance, seen only for a single instant. And so his new opinions seem even more suspicious, and will probably be still more rapidly evanescent, than his old.

And Chand said hastily: I swear to thee, that my mind is made up on this matter for ever, never again to waver, even for an instant. Thou art——But she interrupted him, holding up at him her forefinger, with a smile. And she exclaimed: O King, is it good policy, in matters of war, for a warrior to stake his life on so momentary a glimpse of his enemy? Stay, was that a footstep that I heard? And she listened for a moment, bending round in an attitude that almost broke the King's heart as he watched her, exclaiming within himself: O that the King's Guru were only at the bottom of the sea!

And hearing absolutely nothing, but the sighing of the wind, after a while, she turned once more towards the King, and she said, playfully: Must I, then, remind thee, that all this while, thou art merely an Intruder, present only by my sufferance and condescension, and that though it has come about, I know not how, that thou art actually sitting here talking to me, in an arbour where no other has ever come but me, yet, that should the Intruder become forgetful of his true position, he will be immediately expelled?

And hearing her speak, Yogeshwara in his ambush exclaimed within himself: Ha! wonderful beyond imagination is the craft of women, and above all, of the one before me! For now, so far is he from dreaming that he was brought here expressly for her purpose, that she has convinced him that he is an interloper, indebted to her grace, and she has even filled him with the nectar of unutterable delight, by allowing him to suppose that she permits him to remain!

XI

But in the meanwhile, the King exclaimed piteously: O daughter of King Mitra, well indeed I know, that I am only an intruder: out upon me, if I was tempted to forget it, even for a moment! And yet I was not without excuse, for how could I remember anything whatever, with a mind bewildered by the colour of thy great eyes? But now, I will swear to keep myself within any bound or limit that thou choosest to impose, so only that thou dost not bid me go away. For then I could not answer for myself, and sorely indeed should I be tempted to disobey thee, though I long for nothing so much, as to obey any orders whatever, so only that they are thine.

And she said: On these terms, I will allow thee to remain: though, should I perceive any symptom of disobedience, I shall immediately go away myself: as in any case, I must do, as soon as the Guru has arrived.

And the King said, carelessly: There is no longer need for any Guru, for I have altogether changed my mind, on the matter which he was commissioned to discuss.

And then, she laughed joyfully, and exclaimed: Aha! O King, much I fear, that thou, who but an hour ago, wast ready to bring charges of lightness and frivolity against every member of my sex, art thyself more changeful and inconstant than any woman of us all. For here art thou, changing thy mind once more, no longer about women and their crimes, but even about matters of state-policy, and all in but a moment. Art thou not ashamed of thyself, and in presence of a woman? And the King said: O thou beautiful and tormenting being, I am not in the least ashamed: for it is all thy fault, and thy doing, and thou art the cause of all. And now I wish from the very bottom of my heart, that thou wert thyself the Guru. For I wish to transact no business of any kind, except with thee: and moreover, the concern is far less, in this matter, with the Guru than with thee.

And she thought for a moment, and she said: And what if I were actually the Guru? What then? Come, what can be so easy as to gratify thy wish? Shall we, like children, make believe? Suppose me, if thou canst, to be the Guru, and tell me, what is thy business of State.

And she changed, all at once, her position, and sat, as though upon the carpet of a Durbar, cross-legged, assuming an air of dignity, with mock solemnity, as if preparing to listen with profound attention to what he was about to say. And as he watched her, the heart of Yogeshwara in his ambush almost burst within him, and he exclaimed within himself: Ha! Surely I am a baby, in matters of diplomacy, compared with this extraordinary woman! For she has reached, at a single bound, the very object of her meeting, and has actually presented herself to him, in her true capacity, spreading open, as it were, the very truth naked before his eyes, without his so much as suspecting anything at all!

XII

But in the meanwhile, the King gazed at her, intoxicated with admiration and delight. And he murmured to himself: Where has the woman gone, of whom, at first, I think, I was actually afraid? For now she has turned, so to speak, into a child, playing at a game. And all at once, he began to tremble. For like a flash of lightning, the dark ocean of love-rapture in which he was plunged suddenly became illuminated with a ray of sunlight in the form of hope, so that he said to himself: Am I mistaken, or is she a little kinder than she was? And all at once, a thought came into his heart. And he leaned towards her, and said: Dear little Guru, thou art new to state-affairs, of which the first axiom is this, that the discussion of matters of importance demands above all things absolute secrecy, and freedom from interruption. Is there no attendant of thine somewhere within call, whom we might summon, and bid him tell the true Guru, that he is not required, until our deliberation is concluded?

And hearing him speak, the King's daughter broke into a peal of laughter. And suddenly abandoning all her dignity, she began to clap her hands in delight, looking at him joyously, as if she were really nothing but a child. And she exclaimed: Ah! thou art crafty, and cunning indeed. Ah! that would indeed be a stroke of policy, to oust the true Guru in favour of the sham. But, O King Chand, I fear that it cannot be. Thou must resign thyself to making the best of the time still at thy disposal, afforded thee by his delay. Therefore lay thy matter very quickly before me, for due consideration.

And the King said: O most reverend Guru, I came here to deliberate on certain preliminary difficulties, in the matter of thy father's submission to myself. For he is, of all the kings, the only one that has not yet submitted. Then she said: But what if he should refuse? Then said Chand: He will not refuse, for if he did, I should compel him, by force. And he will never bring the matter to that test, for well he knows, that my strength is a hundred times greater than his own. Aye! had he dreamed of resistance, I should have been delighted: and we should long ago have swept him away, as an angry river does a blade of straw.

And she looked furtively at him as he spoke, saying to herself: Now he is himself, no longer like a bashful lover, but resembling that great copper-coloured eagle that recently swept by us as it searched for prey. And as he thinks of a battle, he has for the moment forgotten all about me, proud, and confident of his own strength. And then, as the King looked at her, she placed her finger on the very point of her chin, and said: O King, this is a matter requiring for its settlement age, and experience, and policy of the very deepest kind. And therefore the King my master entrusted it to me, as being, in all his dominions, the oldest and most crafty of his advisers.

And she looked at the King with a smile, while Yogeshwara in his ambush laughed to himself for joy: saying to himself: She is utterly deceiving him, by telling him the very truth. But the King said: O wrinkled, grey-haired Guru, sure I am, that the King thy master could not possibly have entrusted the matter to a more irresistible negotiator than thyself, whose years are a guarantee for thy incomparable dexterity. Then she said, looking at him with large eyes full of grave reproof: Such compliments are, we know, the indispensable preliminary in all negotiations, meaning, as their employers know well, absolutely nothing at all. And the King said: Dear Guru, thou art altogether mistaken. For I do not speak by proxy, but am my own ambassador, and therefore empower myself to say exactly what I mean, as in this instance. Then she said: Let us pass over all preliminaries, and come to the business in hand. Can we not offer inducements to the enemy, whom we are not strong enough to meet in the field, to come to terms? And the King said eagerly: Aye! that you can. For often, on the very eve of battle, timely alliances and bribes have warded off disaster; and for this very purpose it was, that, as I think, kings' daughters were invented by the Creator. For many times, the gift of a daughter has turned an enemy into a friend. Then she said: Ah! but in this case, such an expedient is altogether futile, and out of the question. For King Chand is known to be an enemy of women, and kings' daughters are, after all, only women, and therefore less than nothing, and of no value in his eyes. And the King said hastily: Sweet Guru, thy spies have misinformed thee, and led thee astray. For I can positively assure thee that circumstances of very recent occurrence have so altered the complexion of King Chand's opinions, that the offer of a daughter by King Mitra would certainly render all submission entirely superfluous. Go back and tell thy master, that King Chand would infinitely prefer his daughter to his submission, or anything whatever in the world.

And she looked at him, gravely shaking at him her pretty head, and she said, with indecision in her voice: O Intruder, remember! and beware! It is time now, to bring this game to a conclusion. For what is it, after all, but child's-play? And it is even more than time for the true Guru to appear. And the King exclaimed: Nay, dearest Guru, not so. For I swear to thee, that though the game might be a game, my terms are no jest. And she said: Then, as Guru, I reply: Who shall convince King Mitra, and still more, his daughter, that King Chand has changed his mind? For in love, as in war, promises may be deception, and oaths but a snare.

XIII

And then, as Chand suddenly rose to his feet, and stood up, she also started up, exclaiming: O King, stand still now, for a little while, and listen to me. And as she stood, with each hand firmly clenched beside her, and her head thrown back upon her shoulders, she resembled a picture of determination. And she turned just a little paler, and her eyes grew just a little darker, as she fixed her glance upon the King. And Yogeshwara, as he watched her from his ambush, said with anxiety to himself: What in the world is she going to do now? For she has completely gained her end, and brought the negotiation to a successful issue; and now all she has to do is, to break off the interview and go away: and everything will settle of its own accord for our advantage. Can it be, that having hitherto played her part with the most consummate skill, she is just about to spoil all by some false step, or, that as her sex gave her victory, so now it is going to tempt her into losing all gained, by some unhappy blunder, springing from feminine caprice? Or does she, for all her cleverness, not yet understand, that the essence of all wisdom lies in knowing where to stop?

So then, as Chand watched her, also with anxiety, all unaware of what was passing in her mind, she said: O King Chand, it may very well be, that should you make your proposal to the King my father, he will accept it, to secure his own advantage. For many times a daughter has been sacrificed, to save a State; tossed like a ball backwards and forwards from hand to hand, and like a bag of money, changing owners in the market, with no voice in the matter of its own. But now there is another person to be considered. For since the beginning, it has been the privilege of all kings' daughters to choose their husbands for themselves.[13] And though my father may be willing, and even all too willing, to close with your offer, and hand me over like a cow to the best bidder, perhaps I may not be equally pleased with the bargain myself. And what guarantee canst thou give me, that I shall not be a loser in the matter, and a victim, and a dupe?

And as she spoke, she fixed her eyes sternly on the King, as though to search him, with penetrating interrogation in their glance. And the King said sorrowfully: Alas! dear Guru, what can I say to thee to convince thee of my sincerity? And she said, with energy: Nay, in this matter, I am no Guru, but like thee, my own ambassador. And what hast thou to say, then, for thyself? Thou art a known enemy of women. And hast thou, then, any ground for thy dislike? Hast thou bought thy bad wisdom in the market of experience, and drawn thy bad opinion of my sex from association with evil specimens of womankind? And as she spoke, she shot at him a glance that resembled a flash of dark lightning in the form of suspicion, and entered his soul like a sword. And the King said earnestly: May I never see thee again, if I have any such experience at all: for I do assure thee, that I have hardly ever seen, much less spoken to, any woman but thyself.

And as he stood, with his hand stretched towards her, and timidity mixed with entreaty in his eyes, she plunged into them her own, as if endeavouring to read to the very bottom of his heart. And all at once, she sighed a little sigh, as if with unutterable relief. And she sank back, changing suddenly all over as it were from the hardest stone into a substance softer than the foam of the sea. And her clenched hands relaxed, opening like flowers, and the cloud vanished from her face, and there came into her eyes a smile that ran as it were like sunshine over her whole body. And she exclaimed: Why, then, thou art altogether fraudulent. And pray, by what authority didst thou dare to assume, like a severe judge, the right of condemning all women in the lump, never having had anything to do with them? And the King said: I learned my lesson from my father, and with him was my whole life passed, in camps, and battlefields, and the chase of wild beasts. Then she said: Thou hast indeed something in thee of the wild animals amongst which thou hast lived, and art in sore need of training in gentler arts. And could I but consider thee a true diamond, I have half a mind to be thy polisher, myself.

And she looked at the King with eyes, in which the sweetness was within a very little of affection. And instantly, fire leaped from the King's heart, and ran like a flame all through him. And he exclaimed: Ah! with thee for my teacher, I would very quickly learn anything whatever. Then she said: Go back, O Intruder, to thy seat: for it is not good for the pupil to be in too great a proximity to his Guru:[14] and I will give thee thy first lesson.

And as the King returned joyously to his seat, she took her flower basket, and turning it over, emptied all its remaining flowers upon the floor. And choosing one from among them, she placed the basket, upside down, a little way from the King, and seated herself upon it, with the flower in her hand. And she said: Now the judge is on the seat of judgment, to try thee. And yonder is my garland, and now it is to be determined, whether thou art worthy to have it placed about thy neck,[15] or not.

And Yogeshwara in his ambush said softly to himself: Now she is playing with him, after the manner of her sex. And who knows, whether it has not come about, that the biter has been bit, and the snarer taken in the snare, and she has partly fallen in love with him herself: as well she might. For love is dangerous, and double-edged, and catching, like a fever, and it will be long before she sees another, better fitted than this young lion's cub, to touch her heart. And she looks at him now, not as she did before, but as if she were beginning to wish to coax him, and to tease him, and to play the tyrant over him, as much as he wishes it himself. For the longing that stretches, as it were, imploring hands towards her, out of his intoxicated eyes, resembles a whirlpool, out of which she may not find it easy, and perhaps does not even desire, to escape.

XIV

So she sat awhile, looking at him with mischief in her laughing eyes, at which he gazed with senses that began to leave him out of joy. And all at once, she held up before him the lily in her hand. And she said: Dost thou recognise this flower? And the King looked at it carefully, bending forward half to see it, half in order to get closer to the hand that held it up. And he said: No: it is a flower of a kind very singular indeed, and of strange beauty, that I have never seen before. Then she said: It is my flower, chosen by me, and preferred to all the others, to be mine, and like myself, a native of the hills. And if ever, in any former birth, I was myself a flower, beyond a doubt, I was this: for as I see it, when I wander in the forest, I am drawn as it were towards it, whether I will or no, and it speaks to me, in its language, of a long forgotten state when we were one. And now, canst thou employ it in battle as a sword? And yet, for all that, is it good for nothing? Then he said: O Guru, I see thy meaning and thy malice. It would indeed be a folly and a sin, to employ the sweet flower as a sword. And were it mine, I would place it in a shrine, and worship it as it deserves, since it exactly resembles the hood of the snake that overshadows Maheshwara, save only that it is white.[16] And now, since it is thy flower, it shall also be mine. Then she said: But as yet it is not thine. And whether I give it thee, or not, depends on my decision in thy case. And I incline to think, not. For it is but an hour, since thou wert ready to condemn all flowers whatever as things of naught, only because the poor flowers were not swords. And the King said: Dear Guru, be not hasty and unjust. Could he be blamed for not appreciating flowers that had never seen one in his life? Then she said: And what, then, had he seen one, and only one? Much I fear, lest, once having experienced the sweetness of one flower, he might be tempted to run riot among them all.

And the King said, with emphasis: Guru, thy fear is vain, and void of substance, and like my own antipathy before.

And she stooped, and picked up at random another flower from the floor. And she said: See! is not this one just as beautiful and tempting as the first? But the King put up his hands before his eyes, exclaiming: I will not even look at it at all. Then she said, softly: Who will believe the bee, that swore a deadly feud against all flowers, now swearing to confine himself to one? Are not all bees naturally rovers, and hard to satiate, such is their appetite for variety? And he said: I know nothing of the bees, but this I know, that for myself, I want no flower but one. Then she said: And for how long? And he said: For a yuga. And she exclaimed: What! only a single yuga?[17] And he said: A kalpa. And she said: Thy desire for the flower has then, after all, a limit, if a long one? And the King said: Multiply yuga by yuga, and kalpa by kalpa, it is the same.

And she said: And what, during all these yugas and kalpas, wouldst thou be doing with thy flower? And he said: Nay, I will show thee, then, when it is mine. Of what use are the words of one unworthy of belief?

And she waited for a while, with a hesitation compounded half of indecision, half of the wish to keep him in suspense. And then all at once she laughed, and blushed, and threw the flower towards him, saying: Come, I will try thee, for a single yuga. And if, at its end, my flower is still with thee, who knows what I may give thee in the next?

XV

And then, as the King seized the flower with avidity, and put it to his lips, looking at her with longing eyes, she looked back at him for a single instant with the shadow of a smile trembling on the very corner of her lips: and then all at once, it vanished, and she dropped her eyes, and just a very little colour came into her cheek. And so, for a while, they remained silent; she with her eyes fixed upon the ground, and he with his own fastened upon her face. And there was dead silence in that arbour, just as if nobody was there. Only the humming of the bees seemed as it were to murmur to them, like the echo of their own thoughts, which neither dared to speak. And the wind sighed in the valley, and died away, leaving behind it a silence greater than before, in which they heard nothing but the beating of their own hearts.

And all at once, she rose abruptly from her basket, as if half-frightened at the very silence, and moved away, a little way, towards the edge of the abyss. And at that moment, the King suddenly struck his hand upon his knee. And he exclaimed, Ha! so vehemently, that she started, and turned and stood, looking at him, in alarm. And she said, in a voice that faltered with timidity: What is the matter? And the King exclaimed: Alas! dearest Guru, I have frightened thee. And yet I think, that I shall frighten thee again, as often as I can, so much does thy fear become thee. Then she said: But what caused thee to exclaim? And he said: I have made a discovery. Then she said, with a smile: And what hast thou discovered? And the King said: Alas! now all thy beautiful timidity has flown away. And with reason: for thou hast little indeed to fear, so long as I am near thee. Aye! woe to whatever threatens thee, while I am by thy side! But as to my discovery, it is, that thou art an impostor and a cheat.

And she looked at him, fixedly, turning just a little paler: and she said: I do not understand. Then he said: Here all this while, I have been before thee like a culprit, rated by thee for my opinion of thy sex: and reduced to utter shame before thee, falsely representing thyself to be a woman. And as I looked at thee, all at once, like a sudden flash of lightning, the truth appeared: and now I know thee to be a rogue, and a cheat, and not a woman after all. And now I am redeemed, in my own eyes, and feel no longer any shame at being drawn against my will to one who has absolutely no claim to be classed among the sex.

And she laughed, as if with relief; and she said: What, then, am I, if not a woman? And the King said: How can I tell? But doubtless thou art some mountain incarnation of loveliness and fascination, distinct and altogether different from the race of men and women, and peculiar to thyself. And now I have a great mind to punish thee for thy villainy, in falsely playing the woman for my confusion.

And she laughed again, softly, and said: What wilt thou do to me, to punish me, for I am at thy mercy? And the King said: Thou speakest truly: for see! I could crush thee to pieces with this hand, or throw thee from the cliff. And yet, that were indeed a sin, and I should resemble one placing his heel upon a flower. Nay, but I will presently go to thy father, and bid him cast thee into prison, for luring to destruction strangers that come by invitation to his capital, against his own safe-conduct. And now I am sorely tempted to look upon thee as a Yakshi, or a Rákshasi, devouring human bodies, and doubtless, Yogeshwara is thy agent, who draws travellers to thy den, and I myself thy victim, only the last of many, whose bones it may be lie scattered at the foot of yonder cliff. And Yogeshwara said, within his ambush: Now, without knowing it, he is getting very dangerously close to the truth, and his words, undesignedly, will touch her to the quick.

XVI

And she was silent for a while, and then she said with a sigh: What! am I then to thee but a Rákshasi, and only an impostor? And the King said: Dear Guru, every Rákshasi can assume at will a form of more than mortal beauty, and this very beauty of thine makes thee suspicious in my eyes, for nothing like it was ever seen. And yet I would rather be devoured by thee than die in any other way, or fall, as is probable, in battle.

And she looked at him a moment, and then she said: Thou art very young, and as I think, hardly older than myself: and hast thou, then, been present in many battles? And he said: In some. Then she said: How is it, then, that thou art still alive? And the King laughed, and said: Dearest little Guru, there would be no battles, if in every battle all were killed. And she said: But thy own father was killed in battle, and one day, it may be thy case also. And Chand said: Who knows? For some fall, on their very first field: and others spend their whole lives on battle-fields, and Death flies from them continually, as if he was afraid of them himself. Or, it may be, he chooses whom he pleases. Then she said: And art thou, then, not afraid, lest he should choose thee?

And Chand looked at her, for a while, in silence. And all at once he said: Who can escape what is written on his forehead? And if a brave man fall in battle, what harm? For he must die somehow, and in that case, at any rate, the Apsaras appointed for him waits, to carry off his soul. But I have found my Apsaras, while I am alive. Ha! and now that I bethink me, surely that is what thou art. Aye! doubtless I am dead, having died somehow or other, unawares, and thou art the very Apsaras that has come to fetch away my soul. And who knows but that this arbour of thine is a very bit of heaven, lifted as it is above the lower world, among the clouds?

And all at once, she exclaimed, with emphasis: Never shall the Apsarases take thee. Thou shalt never fight on any battle-field again. And then again, she stopped short, while the colour rushed over her face like dawn. And instantly, the King started to his feet, exclaiming with rapture: Ah! Guru of my heart! What! would my death displease thee? And she said, with confusion: Nay, I did but fear for thy life, on some future day. But look! where my flower lies, that I gave thee, to treasure for a yuga. Already dost thou neglect it? For in his emotion, the King had thrown it to the ground. And she said again: See! in the confusion caused by matters of more moment, how the poor flower falls neglected to the ground!

XVII

And the King picked the flower up, and laid it carefully upon the seat. And he said: Lie thou there, my flower, securely: I will see to it, that thou dost never fall to the ground again. And then, he turned to the King's daughter, and made a step towards her, with such determination, that she drew back in alarm. And she faltered, half in play and half in fear: Beware! O Intruder: thou art transgressing the conditions. But the King swept away her expostulation with a wave of his hand. And he exclaimed: Nay, I care not any longer whether I am here by right or wrong: it is enough that I am here, and thou art there. And well didst thou ask me, whether I feared to fall in battle like my father. For never hitherto had I fear of any kind, but at thy very question, I suddenly understood that I was changed. Did I not say, thou wert a witch, transforming me into another man by spells? For now I know I am a coward, and afraid to die, since should I die, I should never see thee any more. And all at once he stooped, till his left hand rested on her basket, to look up into her face, which was turned towards the ground. And he said with a voice that shook with emotion: Dear Guru, come, wilt thou not choose me, and throw round my neck the garland of thy choice? And I will be thy slave, and do everything according to thy bidding, and abandon, if thou wilt, my battles and my kingdom and my life, and every other thing, counting the world as grass, only to sit beside thee and listen to thy voice, and watch thee, and thy eyes and thy hands and thy hair and whatever else is thine and part of thee. Aye! and what does it matter, if formerly I thought lightly of thy sex? I was but a fool, that did not know, and now I will make up to thee for all, and serve thee, and follow thee about, and obey thee like a dog. Aye! I have cast my whole life into the fire, and thrown it behind me like a dream, out of which I have awoken, as thou hast waked me, with a start: for now I see that it was horrible, and black, and cold and vain and worthless; for what is any life in which thou art not but a death, and worse than any death, to have seen thee, and to be without thee, even for an hour. Aye! now I know, though then I knew it not, that the very first moment I set eyes on thee, I ceased to be myself, for it is thou that art myself, and my soul, and without thee I am nothing but a corpse. Only tell me what there is of me which thou dost not like, and I will change it, if only thou wilt help me: for thou art powerful to change. For I am very rude, and need teaching, and thou shalt teach me anything thou wilt. And if there is anything thou longest for, I will search the world to bring it to thy feet, and fetch for thee no matter what from the very bottom of the sea. Only let me serve thee, no matter how: see, I am very strong, and if thou wilt, will carry thee about; and O, that only someone would attack thee, that I might show thee by experience that I could fight for thee like never another in the world! Aye! death itself would be delicious, were it only given as a ransom for thy life.

XVIII

So as he spoke, she listened, standing as if rooted to the ground, with a bosom that rose and fell in agitation, and eyes that did not dare to leave the floor. And when he ended, all at once, she looked up. And she cast a single glance, rapid as a flash of lightning, at his face, that resembled the face of one that begged for mercy, for his eyes were full of tears; and then once more she bounded like a deer towards the cliff, and stood again upon its very verge, with her back towards him, looking out over the gorge. And all at once she stooped, and covered her face with her hands. And so she stood awhile; and at last, she took her hands from her face, and turned round.

And she looked at the King, with hard eyes, and a face paler than the ashes on the body of a Pashupata ascetic. And she said, very low, and very clear, and very slowly: O King Chand, the Guru has arrived.

And instantly, the King turned like lightning to the door. And seeing nothing, he listened, and he said: Here there is nobody. Then she looked at him strangely, and said again: There is no Guru. I am myself the Guru. And as he continued to gaze at her, in perplexity, not understanding, she continued: O King Chand, thy original opinions about women were, after all, the truth. For a woman is after all, nothing, but a mass of deception, and a traitor, and now I have betrayed thee, and led thee straight into a trap.

And as the King still remained gazing silently at her in amazement, she said yet again: Thou hast all along imagined, that I was here by a chance, and our meeting was unpremeditated, and accidental: and yet it is not so. For I came here by express design and policy, to catch thee: and Yogeshwara led thee to my arbour by my advice and prearrangement, hoping to hook thee, and snare thee, by means of me, the bait and the decoy, in the meshes of his policy, making thee his instrument by means of me. And now, thou hast learned a lesson, and verified thy faith by experience, and thy dislike of women is, as thou seest, altogether solid, and founded on the truth.

And as she ended, the King stood staring at her, in a stupor, and like one whose senses have been annihilated by an overwhelming blow. And he saw before him not the woman that she was immediately before, but another altogether different. For her face resembled a very beautiful and stony mask, ice-cold, suddenly put on, as it were to hide the soul concealed below.

So as he stood, recollection suddenly came back into his heart. And he said to himself: Thus, then, the very thing predicted by my ministers, has actually occurred. And like a silly fowl, I have actually rushed into the trap, so skilfully prepared by Yogeshwara to catch me, with open eyes, forewarned.

And at the thought of Yogeshwara, all at once, pride, and utter shame, and rage rushed as it were all together into his soul, and the blood left his heart, and surged up into his brow, and lifted the very hair upon his head. And suddenly, he bowed before the King's daughter, standing absolutely still before him, like a picture painted on a wall. And he said slowly: King Mitra is very fortunate in possessing such a minister, and such a daughter; and I did very wrong, in remaining even for a single instant, in an arbour to which I never should have come.

And then, he turned, and left the arbour. And she stood, absolutely still, watching him go.

XIX

So as he went away, the soul of Yogeshwara, in his ambush, almost leaped from his body, so extreme was his rage, and disgust, and disappointment, to see him go. And he exclaimed within himself: Ha! what! am I awake, or only dreaming? What! after lifting the matter to the very topmost pinnacle of success, has she actually dashed it, with a single stroke, to the very bottom, making everything worse by far than it was at the beginning? Is she mad, or what in the world can be the matter with her? Ha! now she has very effectually ruined herself, and her father, and me, and the kingdom, and all. Could she not hold her woman's tongue, and keep the secret? Ha! now indeed, all is lost. For now like a mad elephant he will be back upon us, in a very little while, to wreak his rage upon us all, and tear up the kingdom and the tree of my policy, by its very roots. Fool that I was, to stake all upon the discretion of a girl!

And all at once, he stopped short, struck with the thunderbolt of astonishment at the behaviour of the King's daughter. For when the King was gone, she stood awhile, looking at the door, by which he had disappeared, motionless as a tree, and turning paler and ever paler, till her face resembled the marble floor on which she stood. And suddenly she turned round. And as fate would have it, at that moment, her eyes fell on the seat, where he sat, and on the flower, that lay there, exactly as he placed it, when he lifted it with such affection from the floor. And she looked at it, for a single instant, and all at once, she flung herself upon her knees, with her face buried in her two arms, that rested on her basket, and she began to sob, as if, her heart being broken, she was about to break herself in pieces also.

And as he watched her, tears of compassion for her and her condition arose, as if against his will, in Yogeshwara's soul: for he had a daughter of his own. And he gazed at her distracted, and seizing his right ear with his hand, he began to pull it, utterly confounded and perplexed as to what was to be done. And he said within himself: Surely some assistance should be rendered to this unhappy maiden, no matter what blame she has incurred by her incomprehensible and utterly disastrous behaviour. For she seems about to abandon the body, in grief about something or other, as great as I have ever witnessed in my life. And yet if I go to her assistance, it will come out that I was a party to their interview, and that will never do. And yet I cannot stay here and watch her, as it were, dying before my eyes, in the very agony of grief.

XX

And then, once again he stopped short, and so great was his amazement that he came within a very little of betraying himself by a loud exclamation. For as he looked, lo! the King appeared again, standing in the door, having returned unheard with silent steps. And as he stood, he looked towards the King's daughter, all unaware of his return. And when he saw that she was sobbing, like a very incarnation of despair, all at once his face was lit up as it were by the ecstasy of joy. And he went noiselessly, on tiptoe, towards her, and when he reached her, he stood for a moment looking down at her, with compassion that was mingled with unutterable affection. And then, he stooped down, and touched her on the shoulder, very gently, with his hand.

And at his touch, she started to her feet, and stood, with downcast eyes, from which great tears rolled, chasing one another, along her cheeks, and a bosom that heaved like the ocean after a storm. And the colour came and went upon her face, like the shadows of the clouds driven furiously over the hillsides by a strong wind.

And the King leaned towards her, and said softly: See, it is fated, that I cannot leave thy arbour, however often I may try. And now, thou art mistaken. For it was my old opinions of women that are wrong, and my new ones that are right. And now, dear Guru, wilt thou choose me for thy husband, or not?

And as he stretched his hands towards her, she glanced at him, and all at once, she lost control over herself, and abandoned, as it were, the dominion of her soul to him. And she fell into his arms, and remained, sobbing on his breast, and quivering with emotion, and joy, and shame, while the whole world swam in mist before the eyes of the King, trembling like a leaf in the whirlwind of passion roused by her agitation and her surrender and her touch. And after a while, he said: Listen, for I wish to ask thee a question, and tell thee why it was that I returned. For it was not only thy beauty that drew me back again, though that alone would have made it utterly impossible for me to go away: notwithstanding Yogeshwara, whom, at the thought of his deception, I was ready to strangle with my own hands. But all at once, as I went, I stopped. And I said: Ha! why did she betray herself, and tell me, when she had completely gained her object, what without her, I myself should never have discovered? Could it be, because her heart smote her, to receive the husband of her choice?

And then, with a cry, she gripped him by the arm. And she sobbed aloud as she exclaimed: Ah! thou hast guessed it, thou hast guessed. Ah! till I knew thee, to deceive thee seemed to be a little thing. And fool! I laid a snare for thee, never dreaming of danger to myself, nor thinking that I should be the first myself to fall into the snare, laid for me by the Deity in thy dear form. And as I looked at thee, and listened to thee pleading, all ignorant of my deception, all at once I became a thing of horror to myself, and saw myself a traitor, to thee. Ah! no, not to thee. Ah! to thee, to thee, ah! to thee I could not lie.

XXI

So those two lovers stood together in that arbour on the edge of the hill, not knowing where they were, and all ignorant of time. And the King's daughter sobbed, until she laughed, and laughed until she sobbed, till at length the King took her in his arms, and seating himself in his old seat, set her on his lap, and held her like a child, rocking her to and fro, and wishing that her agitation might never have an end, so only that he might continue rocking her for ever on his knee.

And at last, becoming once more mistress of herself, she said to him in a whisper: Thou didst well to return, without losing any time. For hadst thou remained absent but a very little longer, I would have thrown myself to the bottom of the cliff, and then they would have found there not, as thou saidst, thy bones, but mine. But as it is, I am alive, to be already a burden to thee, and as yet, the yuga has only just begun. And he said: O burden, I am not in any hurry to set thee down. And I will carry my flower, thou shalt find, to the yuga's very furthest end.

And as he spoke, she turned in his arms, and looked towards the flower, and she said, very low: When, after thy departure, suddenly I saw the flower that I gave thee lying, left by thee, despised, alone, there came into my heart such an agony, that death itself would have been relief. And the King said, with emotion: I will build for it a shrine of gold: but as for thee, thy shrine is in my heart. But now, O Guru of my heart, there is still something to be done: for thou hast not yet placed thy garland on my neck.

And instantly she jumped up and brought it. And she said: With my own hands, I wove it for thee, and the charm that I sang to it, unknown to thee, for thee, has produced its result. And as the King stood before her, she reached up, with a smile, on tiptoe, and put the garland round his neck, together with the other garland of the creeper of her arms. And the King drew her, with his own arms, towards him, and their souls met upon their lips, and lost in each other, became inextricably united, in the paradise-oblivion of a kiss without an end.

*****

And old Yogeshwara, in his ambush, said softly to himself, with tears in his eyes: Now it is time for me to go, for now I am superfluous; and this is the end, and the battle is won. And she was right, and I was wrong; and she alone knew her way to the only true and perfect end, without which all was incomplete; and I am nothing but an old fool. And in my folly I actually ventured to chide her, and reprove her, not perceiving that it was not she, but I, who was to blame, coming within a very little of utterly destroying all, by my presumptuous and impertinent interference, unable to appreciate her incomparable skill, and conceitedly deeming myself a better judge as to how this matter ought to be conducted to a successful termination, than herself: as if a woman and the Deity of Love did not know how to manage their own business better than all the grey-haired dotards in the three great worlds!

A Cordial Understanding

And the very next morning, King Mitra's capital went as it were wild with joy, with smiles in the form of red banners hung from every housetop, and laughter in the form of drums beaten in every street, and shouts of victory in every mouth: since all had heard that King Chand was going to marry the King's daughter, and so would the hereditary enemy become a friend.[1] And the marriage was celebrated with all its rites, with speed that did not however keep pace with King Chand's impatience, who almost lost his reason on account of the delay of the astrologers in fixing the auspicious day. And as soon as he had led his bride with trembling hand around the fire, he took her away to his own home.

And as he went away, Yogeshwara said to him, at the city gate: O King Chand, dost thou bear a grudge against the old minister that lured thee into a snare? And Chand laughed, and said: O Yogeshwara, I wish I had a minister like thee. And as to the grudge, I owe thee what I am anxious to repay. Come to my capital below, when thou hast leisure, and ask me for anything whatever of most value to thee in the three worlds, and it is thine. And Yogeshwara said instantly: I choose thy bride. And Chand laughed again, and said: It is well chosen: and now I see, that thy reputation for wisdom is well deserved. Nevertheless, thou wilt have to choose again, for thou hast asked for the only thing I will not give.

So then, as they went away, Yogeshwara said softly to himself: Now, were I only a young man, my fortune would be made. But as it is, I am old, and my work is done: and I have attained the fruit of my birth. And see! how the Deity, in this case, as frequently before, has brought about things contrary to all expectation, and such as no man could have believed even to be possible, by the very simplest means. For King Chand and his son have done nothing all their lives, but subdue the regions of the earth: whereas King Mitra has done absolutely nothing, except marry a wife and beget a daughter. And yet, aided by my policy, this daughter has, like a wishing-tree, dropped all Chand's gains into our lap, and so far from losing anything, we have gained all. So much more powerful has proved this slender digit of the moon than all the fury of the sun. And now, then, I will put off the burden of the State, and spend the days that still remain to me in accumulating merit, by penance and austerities.

And he handed over everything to his son, and becoming a pilgrim, went to Wáránasi. And there he took up his station on the margin of the holy stream, and sat there, motionless and speechless, till he died. And they made a pyre and burned him on the Ghat: and his soul entered another body, while the ashes of the old one floated down the river, and were lost at last in the waters of the sea.

And then, Maheshwara stopped.

And after a while, the Daughter of the Mountain said softly: O Moony-Crested, thy story, after all, proves absolutely nothing. For beyond a doubt, Chand would have loved his beautiful and crafty mountain-bride every whit as much, had she never committed any fault at all.

Then said the God: O Daughter of the Snow, thou art altogether mistaken. For the fact that he had, as it were, to forgive her for a fault, in the very crisis and ecstasy of his passion, increased it not merely a hundred, but a thousand-fold, and enriched it with a sweetness which otherwise it could never have possessed. And so it is in every other case: for therein lies the flattery of sex.[2] And each sex loves the other better, if it love at all, for having something to forgive. For nothing augments affection so much as the forgiveness of its object. And the tests of love are only two, the power of recollection, and the capacity to forgive. For false love forgets at once, and cannot forgive at all. But love that is really love forgives for ever, and never forgets.

Then said the mountain goddess: But in what, then, lies the superiority of sex to sex, and man to woman? And why is not he a mine of faults, as well as she?

And as she spoke, she was conscious of a change: and all at once she looked, and found that she was lying, not on the Great God's breast, but on the green side of a hill. And instantly she exclaimed, in a pet: Now he has cheated me again, suddenly substituting this green hill for his own body, and going somewhere else, leaving me in the lurch, without an answer to my doubt. And now I shall have to wait, until he chooses to return. And doubtless he thinks, that after a little while, I shall have utterly forgotten all about it; but on the contrary, I will very carefully remember to make him answer, and I will take my hair down, and keep it so, until he does. And in the meantime, I will go, and listen to my own praises; and show myself, it may be, for a moment, in return for them, to my worshippers in the Windhya hills.

THE END

********

A Selection from the Catalogue of

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

Complete Catalogues sent on application

Books by F. W. Bain

Translated from Original Manuscripts

A Digit of the Moon

And Other Love Stories from the Hindu

Crown 8vo. Illustrated. Net, $1.30

A Draught of the Blue

together with

An Essence of the Dusk

Crown 8vo. Illustrated. Net, $1.50

An Incarnation of the Snow

Crown 8vo, Illustrated. Net, $1.25

A Mine of Faults

Crown 8vo. Illustrated. Net, $1.25

The Ashes of a God

"Mr. Bain's stories are full of wistfulness and beauty. There is a tenderness, a richness of color, a warmth of passion, and an elemental understanding of men and women.... They seem to me to place Mr. Bain on an eminence isolated and unique.... No words that I can write can fittingly express the fascination of these books."—Mr. E. V. Lucas in the London Bookman.

"Charming love stories that will be absolutely novel to most readers. They are delicate, vivid, and told in beautiful English. They show Hindu life and thought in the true light, a thing worth doing in view of the mushy mysticisms and theosophical gibbering that have obscured it in this country."—N. Y. Sun.

*****

A Fascinating Romance

GREAT POSSESSIONS

By MRS. WILFRID WARD

Mrs. Ward's latest book is the romance of a mysterious bequest. Sir David Bright, a distinguished soldier and prominent figure in London society, has died leaving the bulk of his immense fortune not to his wife, but to an unknown woman living in Florence. Starting with this somewhat melodramatic situation, the author has told a fascinating story of London life marked by pictures of the great world, a presentation at court, and all the lesser observances of fashionable society, with moving and sympathetic character studies, and throughout a strong and striking plot. The Great Possessions might be called the English House of Mirth.

Crown 8vo. Fixed price, $1.35 net

*****

"A Remarkable Book"

SAN CELESTINO

BY JOHN AYSCOUGH

Author of "MAROTZ," "DROMINA," etc.

In form, it is almost exactly like a novel with frequent conversations, and going, in minor matters at least, far beyond the record of history. The narrative opens with Petruccio as a child in the home of his parents, who belong to the minor nobility of the Abruzzi. It follows his career at Salerno, where he attended the University as a lonely figure making few friends. Afterwards he became a hermit and the story tells how disciples gathered round him, beginning with two worldly young men who had known him at Salerno. The Order of the Celestines thus founded grew in numbers and importance through fifty quiet years, when the call to the Papacy came. From this point, Mr. Ayscough's chronicle moves swiftly and dramatically—the poor simple old man dragged weeping from his hermit's cave and borne to the triumph from which he shrank in horror,—the miserable weeks in Rome, touching examples of his simplicity and guilelessness. Then the peace which came with the renunciation, and his last days passed quite happily as a captive in a prison cell.

Crown 8vo. $1.50

*****

"Bound to be one of the most popular novels of the year"

THE WIVING OF LANCE CLEAVERAGE

BY ALICE MACGOWAN

Author of "JUDITH OF THE CUMBERLANDS," "RETURN," "LAST WORD," ETC.

By its stirring dramatic appeal, its varied interest, its skilful artistry, Miss MacGowan's new Tennessee mountain story marks a long step in advance of her earlier novels. It is an interesting company that is brought together in this book—notably the proud high-spirited mountain beauty who is the heroine, and the bold and fiery young hero, who will surely stand high in the good graces of readers of the tale—and a company of distinct types drawn with a graphic and spirited hand, a company moved by strong passions—love, and hate too, green jealousy and black revenge.

With Illustrations in Color by ROBERT EDWARDS

Fixed price, $1.35 net

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS NEW YORK LONDON

*****

By F. W. BAIN

Translated from the Original Manuscripts

A Digit of the Moon And Other Love Stories from the Hindu

A Draught of the Blue together with An Essence of the Dusk

An Incarnation of the Snow A Mine of Faults The Ashes of a God