And as she spoke, I listened, not believing my own ears, and saying to
myself: Is it all real, or can it be that I am only dreaming after
all? And which is the greater wonder, this miserable King, who,
leaving honour out of the account, is so utterly besotted as to give
away a thing like her to the first man who asks for her, or Táráwalí
herself, telling the whole story of her own depreciation with such
contemptuous and yet delicious candour to such a one as me? Aye! well
indeed she might despise a husband so unutterably despicable; and yet
his oblivion of his own honour is easier by far to understand than his
blindness to the value of the thing he gave away. And would she tell
me anything at all, unless she had come to the conclusion that I was
worthy of her confidence? And who knows? For why should she consent to
be given like a horse to Narasinha? Why might she not prefer to give
herself, and choose for herself the man who was to be her owner? And
what if I could persuade her to let me be the man? And at the very
thought, my head began to swim in the delirium of hope and almost
unimaginable anticipation. And I said: Dear Táráwalí, is it the fault
of the ocean gem, if its boorish owner flings it away, taking it for a
bit of common glass, and ignoring its inestimable worth? There are
other and better judges, who would give their very lives, only to be
allowed to pick it up.
And she looked at me with a smile, and she leaned towards me, and she
said, with gentle mischief in her eyes: Shall I tell thee thy very
thoughts, and it may be, tumble down for thee the unsubstantial
castles thou art even already building in the air? Thou art marvelling
at the King, for giving me so carelessly away: and thou art wondering,
why I am telling thee about it: and last of all, it may be, thou art
counting on my independence. Is it not so? And I hung my head in
silence, ashamed at being so accurately detected by the subtle
penetration of this extraordinary Queen. And presently she said, as
if to console me for my confusion, with unutterable sweetness in her
voice: Come, do not allow delusive imagination to run away with thee,
but curb him, and rein him up, and stop him, and be wise. For I
belong, body and soul, to Narasinha. And yet, for all that, I am my
own mistress, and act exactly as I choose. And I see anyone I please,
and at my own time, and go, like a wild elephant, wherever inclination
leads me. And music is my passion, and I heard of thee, and sent for
thee, and now that I have seen thee, I like thee. And now, shall we be
friends?
And as she ended, she put out towards me both her hands, leaning
towards me, and looking at me with a smile, and eyes full of an
invitation so irresistibly caressing that it swept away my
self-control, consuming it like a blade of grass in a forest fire. And
I started to my feet, and instantly she rose herself. And I seized her
right hand in my own, with a grip that made it an unwilling prisoner
beyond all hope of escape. And I exclaimed with agitation: Friends!
only friends! Alas! O Táráwalí, hast thou given thyself, body and
soul, so absolutely to Narasinha, as not to have left even the very
smallest atom over, for me, now that I have discovered thee at last? O
I have dreamed of thee, and thy sweetness, and thy eyes, so long, so
long.
And as I gazed at her, forgetting everything in the world, but my
incontrollable thirst for herself, she sighed, and she said with
compassion: Poor boy! I did ill, to summon thee at all. Thou art only
drinking poison, and yet I know not any antidote, save only to bid
thee go away.
And I stood, bereft of my senses, and without knowing what I did,
pulling her by the hand, that lay reluctantly in mine, endeavouring to
free itself in vain. And half resisting, half consenting, against her
own will, to be pulled, she came slowly towards me, leaning back, and
looking at me with eyes that seemed to implore me to release her, and
yet, unable to be harsh, no matter what I did. And at last, she
reached me, and she closed her eyes, as I kissed her, with a shudder
of delight that was almost terror, on the lips. And then instantly I
let her go, and stood aghast at what I had done. And I stammered:
Forgive! for I did not know what I was doing.
And she shook her head, and said very gently: Nay, it is I myself who
am to blame: since I might have known that this would be the
inevitable end. But now, good-bye! for thou hast been here already far
too long. And then, she hesitated for an instant, looking at me as if
with pity; and she said with a smile: Thou must absolutely go, and yet
my heart is sorry for thee, for I understand, what going means, to
thee. Come, if thou wilt, I will allow thee, to bid me good-bye.
And as she held out her arms, looking at me with a smile, my reason
fled. And I caught her anyhow, with one arm round her waist, and the
other round her neck, turning round unawares, so that suddenly I found
her lying in my arms, gazing up into my eyes, with lips that trembled
as they smiled. And I drew a deep sigh, and then I kissed her in a
frenzy with a kiss that seemed as if it would never end.
And then, I almost threw her from me, with a cry. And I turned and
fled away, without looking back, and found, I know not how, the door,
and knocked, and it was opened; and I got, somehow or other, into the
street. And I went home like one walking in a dream, with feet that
found their way of their own accord.
X
And I threw myself on my bed, and lay, all night long, asleep or
awake, I know not which, but gazing with eyes that as it were shone
into the dark, and a heart burning with the fire of joy, and a soul
lost in the ecstasy of recollection, saying to myself without ceasing:
I have found her, I have found her: and the reality is sweeter far
even than the dream. And morning arrived, as it seemed, even before
night had begun, for time was lost altogether in the abyss of
reminiscence. And I rose up, and stood still, with my eyes fixed upon
the ground, going over every detail, and striving to recall every atom
of the meeting of the day before. And I said to myself: Ha! and fool
that I was, I very nearly missed her, by refusing to go at all. And
unless that lucky elephant had chanced to come along, I was absolutely
lost. And yet, how could I possibly have guessed that Táráwalí would
turn out to be the lady of my dream? O joy, that she caught me just
before I went away! O the star in her hair, and the sound of her
voice, and O the unendurable torture of being absent for an instant
from the possibility of the nectar of her kiss!
And then, all at once, I started, for a thought ran of its own accord
like a dagger straight into my heart. And I exclaimed: Alas! I had
forgotten. How in the world am I ever to see her again? And she said:
Good-bye! Can it be that she intended I was never to return? Alas!
beyond a doubt, good-bye was good-bye, and for all her extraordinary
kindness, she was offended by my overweening presumption, and sent me
away, and will not send for me again. Aye! all is over: for like
Durgá,[24] she is absolutely inaccessible, unless she chooses to
reveal herself to her miserable devotee of her own accord. Aye indeed!
my arrogance has ruined me in her estimation, and I cannot even hope
ever to see her any more. Fool that I was, and mad, to run away like a
deer, never so much as dreaming of providing for my return! Now
indeed, I have dropped myself into a well without a rope, and she is
as utterly beyond my reach, as if indeed she were a star.
And my knees shook, and I sank down, with my head buried in my hands,
ready to cry, for sheer anguish, at the thought of my inability to get
at her, and the horror on purpose to keep me in suspense, and torture
my impatience. And then at last, she said: Sunset! What! didst thou
fear I was going to say Farewell?
And as she laughed again, I caught her by the hand, in exultation, and
her laughter suddenly changed into a shriek. And she said, with more
laughter: Nay, thou hast come within a little of breaking my hand in
pieces, gripping it like one that catches at a twig, to save himself
from drowning. What! wouldst thou requite a benefit, by injuring thy
benefactor? Or hast thou again mistaken one hand for another? And
again she began to laugh, looking at me slily, with her provoking
pretty eyes: and she said: No matter, I forgive thee, for as I said, I
understand. But O Shatrunjaya the lute-player, what is it that has
made thee change thy mind, since yesterday? Or am I to go back and
tell the Queen, once more, that her music-master will not come?
And she turned, laughing still, to go away. But I sprang forward, and
caught her in my arms again, and said: Nay, dear Chaturiká, do not go.
Stay just a little longer, for art thou not her shadow?
And yet once more she began to laugh, pushing me away, as she
exclaimed: It is utterly impossible, O Shatrunjaya, for I have many
things to do, and very little time. And I am not sure that I care to
be embraced, merely because I am the shadow of another. Thou must
contrive how thou canst, without me, to restrain thy insatiable
appetite of embracing other people, till sunset. Patience! thou hast
not long to wait.
And she went out and shut the door, and suddenly, just as it was
closing, she opened it again, and put in her head. And she said: Shall
I tell her of thy anxiety to embrace me, or leave it to thee? Dear
Chaturiká! Ah! ah! Nectar when she turns towards thee: poison when she
turns away!
And then she shut the door and disappeared.