Then the King said to Rasakósha: My friend, that merchant was a liar;
for no lips in the world could match the beauty of those of my beloved.
Alas! that the sweetness of her smile should be the means of conveying
such bitterness to my soul, as she answers your questions with unerring
dexterity, and so annihilates my hopes each day. And now but seven
days remain, and the thought of losing her is like poison in the
draught of nectar which I drink daily from her beauty. Even the
portrait is becoming hateful to me, for it mocks me with its scorn, and
assuredly my life will be extinct before the morning. So the King
passed the night in a state of wretchedness, gazing at the portrait.
And when the sun rose, he rose also, and got somehow through the day,
by the help of Rasakósha and the garden. Then when the sun set, they
went again to the hall of audience. And there they saw the Princess,
clad in a copper-coloured robe, and a bodice of burnished silver, and
her crown and other ornaments, sitting on her throne. And her eyes
sparkled when she saw the King, who sank upon a couch, speechless and
fascinated, under the spell of her beauty. Then Rasakósha came forward
and stood before her, and began again:
Lady, once upon a time a young and handsome bee, that had till then
grown up at home and been fed by his parents, set out for the first
time in his life on an expedition to fetch flower-nectar for the
purpose of making honey. And attracted by its fragrance he flew to a
red lotus, growing on a pool in the forest, and was about to drain her
of her sweetness. But the lotus closed her flower, and would not let
him enter, saying: O bee, you come here, after the manner of your
_caste_, insolently pushing into me, and seeking to rob me of my
nectar, expecting to get all for nothing. Learn that you must buy my
nectar of me. Then the bee buzzed and said: What shall I give you for
it? What is there that you can want? Is it not enough for you to blow
and bloom on this pool, scenting the air? Then the lotus said: There
is still something wanting. Out upon you, foolish bee! You, a bee,
not to know what I want! Go away, and find out, and then come back to
me, if you want any of my nectar.
Then the bee buzzed violently in anger, and flew away, to find out what
the lotus wanted. And he saw a beetle busily grubbing in the earth at
the foot of a tree. So he said: O beetle, tell me what the lotus
wants. But the beetle answered: What is a lotus to me? Go elsewhere;
I have no leisure. So the bee flew off and saw a spider, building a
web in a branch. And he asked him. And the spider said: What she
wants is doubtless a fly. But the bee thought: It cannot be a fly.
This spider judges others by himself. And seeing a cloud floating in
the air above him, he flew up and asked it: O cloud, what does the
lotus want? The cloud said: Rain-drops. So the bee flew back and
offered water to the lotus. But she said: I get that from the cloud
and from the pool, not from you. Try again. So he flew away, and saw
a sunbeam playing on a blade of grass, and asked it what the lotus
wanted. The sunbeam said: Warmth. So the bee flew back bringing with
him a fire-fly, and tried to warm the lotus. But she said: I get
warmth from the sun, not from you. Try again. Then the bee flew off
again, and saw an owl blinking in a tree; and he buzzed in his ear and
roused him, and said: O owl, tell me what the lotus wants. The owl
said: Sleep. And the bee flew back, and said to the lotus: I will lull
you to sleep by humming to you, and fanning you with my wings. But the
lotus answered: I get sleep from the night, not from you. Try again.
Then the bee in despair flew away, crying aloud: What in the world can
this niggardly and capricious lotus want of me? And as fate would have
it, his cry was overheard by an old hermit, who lived in the forest,
and knew the language of all beasts and birds. And he called to the
bee, and said: O thou dull-witted bee, this is what the lotus wants:
and he told him Then the bee was delighted, and flew away to the lotus,
and gave her what she wanted And she opened her flower, and he went in
and stole her nectar.
Now tell me, Princess, what did the bee give the lotus? And Rasakósha
ceased. And the Princess blushed[1], and said: He gave her a kiss.
And when she had spoken, she rose up and went out without looking at
the King, and the King's heart went with her. But the King and
Rasakósha returned to their own apartments.
[1] This is not a strict translation. Hindoo ladies, as far as my
experience goes, do not blush: they 'exhibit shame.' But as the
emotion is clearly the same, I have employed the English equivalent.