Note 239 — KĀDAMBARĪ. (continued 2)

‘“‘Then the Queen came to me, and after a long visit, went home; but I observed nothing of what she did, said, or attempted while with me, for my heart was far away. When she went the sun, with his steeds bright as haritāla pigeons, lord of life to the lotuses, and friend of the cakravākas, had sunk to rest, and the face of the West was growing crimson, and the lotus-beds were turning green, and the East was darkening to blue; and the world of mortals was overcome by a blackness like a wave of the ocean of final destruction turbid with the mud of hell. I knew not what to do, and asked Taralikā, “Seest thou not, Taralikā, how confused is my mind? My senses are bewildered with uncertainty, and I am unable myself to see in the least what I should do. (315) Do thou tell me what is right to do, for Kapiñjala is now gone, and he told his tale in thy presence. What if, like a base-born maiden, I cast away shame, relinquish self-control, desert modesty, contemn the reproach of men, transgress good behaviour, trample on conduct, despise noble birth, accept the disgrace of a course blinded by love, and without my father’s leave, or my mother’s approval, I were to go to him myself and offer him my hand? This transgression against my parents would be a great wrong. But if, taking the other alternative, I follow duty, I shall in the first place accept death, and even so I shall break the heart of his reverence Kapiñjala, who loved him first, and who came hither of his own accord. And again, if perchance that man’s death is brought about by my deed in destroying his hopes, then causing the death of an ascetic would be a grave sin.” While I thus considered, the East became gray with the glimmering light of moonrise, like a line of woods in spring with the pollen of flowers. And in the moonlight the eastern quarter showed white as if with the powdered pearls from the frontal bone of the elephant of darkness torn open by the lion-moon, (316) or pale with sandal-dust falling from the breast of the nymphs of the eastern mountain, or light with the rising of sand in an island left by the tide, stirred by the wind on the waves of the ever-moving ocean. Slowly the moonlight glided down, and made bright the face of night, as if it were the flash of her teeth as she softly smiled at the sight of the moon; then evening shone with the moon’s orb, as if it were the circle of Çesha’s hoods breaking through the earth as it rose from hell; after that, night became fair with the moon, the gladdener of the world of mortals, the delight of lovers, now leaving its childhood behind and becoming the ally of Love, with a youthful glow arising within it, the only fitting light for the enjoyment of Love’s pleasures, ambrosial, climbing the sky like youth impersonate. Then I beheld the risen moon as if flushed with the coral of the ocean it had just left, crimsoned with the blood of its deer struck by the paw of the lion of the Eastern Mountain, marked with the lac of Rohiṇī’s239 feet, as she spurned her lord in a love quarrel, (317) and ruddy with his newly-kindled glow. And I, though the fire of Love burnt within me, had my heart darkened; though my body rested on the lap of Taralikā, I was a captive in the hands of Love; though my eyes were fixed on the moon, I was looking on death, and I straightway thought, “There are the honey-month, the Malaya winds, and all other such things brought together, and in the same place to have this evil miscreant moon cannot be endured. My heart cannot bear it. Its rising now is like a shower of coals to one consumed by fever, or a fall of snow to one ill from cold, or the bite of a black snake to one faint with the swelling of poison.” And as I thus thought, a swoon closed my eyes, like the sleep brought by moonlight that withers the lotuses of the day. Soon, however, I regained consciousness by means of the fanning and sandal unguents of the bewildered Taralikā, and I saw her weeping, her face dimmed with ceaseless tears, pressing the point of a moist moonstone to my brow, and seeming possessed by despair impersonate. As I opened my eyes, she fell at my feet, and said, raising hands yet wet with the thick sandal ointment: “Princess, why think of shame or disrespect to parents? Be kind; send me, and I will fetch the beloved of thy heart; (318) rise, or go thither thyself. Henceforth thou canst not bear this Love that is an ocean whose manifold passionate waves240 are swelling at the rise of a strong moon.” To this speech I replied: “Mad girl, what is love to me? The moon it is, even the lord of the night lotuses, who removes all scruples, undermines all search for means of escape, conceals all difficulties, takes away all doubts, contemns all fears, roots out all shame, veils the sinful levity of going myself to my lover, avoids all delay, and has come merely to lead me either to Puṇḍarīka or to death. Rise, therefore; for while I have life I will follow him and honour him who, dear as he is, tortures my heart.” Thus saying, I rose, leaning on her, for my limbs were yet unsteady with the weakness of the swoon caused by Love, and as I rose my right eye throbbed, presaging ill, and in sudden terror I thought: “What new thing is this threatened by Destiny?”