Note 258 — KĀDAMBARĪ. (continued 2)

(349) ‘“When she had finished her prayers, Mahāçvetā asked Taralikā, ‘Didst thou see my dear Kādambarī well? and will she do as I said?’ ‘Princess,’ said Taralikā, in a very sweet voice, with head respectfully inclined, ‘I saw Princess Kādambarī well in all respects, and told her all thine advice; and what was her reply, when with a continuous stream of thick tears she had heard it, that her lute-player Keyūraka, whom she has sent, shall tell thee;’ and as she ceased Keyūraka said, ‘Princess Mahāçvetā, my lady Kādambarī, with a close embrace, sends this message, “Is this, that Taralikā has been sent to tell me, said to please my parents or to test my feelings, or to subtly reproach me for my crime in dwelling at home; or is it a desire to break our friendship, or a device to desert one who loves her, or is it simply anger? Thou knowest that my heart overflows with a love that was inborn in me. How wert thou not ashamed to send so cruel a message? Thou, erst so soft of speech, from whom hast thou learnt to speak unkindness and utter reproach? Who in his senses would, even if happy, make up his mind to undertake even a slight matter that would end in pain? how much less one like me, whose heart is struck down by deep grief? For in a heart worn by a friend’s sorrow, what hope is there of joy, what contentment, what pleasures or what mirth? (350) How should I fulfil the desire of Love, poisonous, pitiless, unkind, who has brought my dear friend to so sad a plight? Even the hen cakravāka, when the lotus-beds are widowed by the sun’s setting, renounces from the friendship that arises from dwelling among them, the joys of union with her lord; how much more, then, should women! While my friend dwells day and night sorrowing for the loss of her lord and avoiding the sight of mankind, how could anyone else enter my heart; and while my friend in her sorrow tortures herself with penances and suffers great pain, how could I think so lightly of that as to seek my own happiness and accept a husband, or how could any happiness befall me? For from love of thee I have in this matter accepted disgrace by embracing an independent life contrary to the wont of maidens. I have despised noble breeding, transgressed my parent’s commands, set at nought the gossip of mankind, thrown away modesty, a woman’s inborn grace; how, tell me, should such a one go back? Therefore I salute thee, I bow before thee, I embrace thy feet; be gracious to me. As thou hast gone hence into the forest, taking my life with thee, make not this request in thy mind, even in a dream.”’ (351) Thus having said, he became silent, and Mahāçvetā thought long, and then dismissed Keyūraka, saying, ‘Do thou depart; I will go to her and do what is fitting.’ On his departure she said to Candrāpīḍa, ‘Prince, Hemakūṭa is pleasant and the royal city of Citraratha marvellous; the Kinnara country is curious, the Gandharva world beautiful, and Kādambarī is noble and generous of heart. If thou deemest not the journey too tedious, if no serious business is hindered, if thy mind is curious to behold rare sights, if thou art encouraged by my words, if the sight of wonders gives thee joy, if thou wilt deign to grant my request, if thou thinkest me worthy of not being denied, if any friendship has grown up between us, or if I am deserving of thy favour, then thou canst not disdain to fulfil this prayer. Thou canst go hence with me, and see not only Hemakūṭa, that treasure of beauty, but my second self, Kādambarī; and having removed this foolish freak of hers, thou canst rest for one day, and return hither the next morn. For by the sight of thy kindness so freely258 given, my grief has become bearable, since I have told thee my story, breathed out as it was from a heart long overwhelmed with the darkness of grief. (352) For the presence of the good gives joy even to those who are sad at heart, and a virtue springs from such as thou art that wholly tends to make others happy.’