III

And then at last one day it happened, that Mátali arrived in Indra's

palace, having returned to heaven from a visit to the earth. And as

soon as he entered, he exclaimed: O punisher of Páka,[15] and the rest,

what are you all about? Are you asleep, or have you actually abandoned

all care whether of your own pre-eminence or the established order of

the world? For away below on earth, there is an old Brahman, in a

deserted cemetery in the forest of the Windhya hills, who by his

interminable muttering continued through the centuries has accumulated

so gigantic a heap of merit,[16] that it threatens destruction to the

three worlds. And now, unless something is done very speedily to stop

him, and reduce it, this merit of his, beyond a doubt, will disturb the

equilibrium of the universe, and wreck the established order of the

worlds, and hurl you from your thrones.

And hearing him, Indra said: There is no difficulty in this. I will go

myself, and bribe him to discontinue his proceedings. And he went down

himself accordingly to earth, to examine and investigate that Brahman,

and see what could be done. And after considering him awhile, and

admiring his extraordinary obstinacy, he set to work to tempt him, and

induce him, by offering bribes of various descriptions, to desist. And

he offered him accordingly mountains of gold, and oceans of jewels, and

everlasting youth, and many kinds of magic power, and finally he racked

his brains, to find something or other that would move that obdurate

Trishodadhi, and draw him from his vow. But in vain. For Trishodadhi

paid no more attention to his offers and himself, than the moon does to

the barking of a dog; continuing to mutter, all the time he spoke, just

as if he was not there.

So finding all his efforts vain, after a while, that baffled lover of

Ahalyá[17] returned to heaven. And summoning the gods, he laid the

case before them, and requested their advice. And after deliberation,

they determined to seduce him by sending down a heavenly nymph, saying

to themselves: Did not Menaká, and Tilottamá, and others of their kind,

prove too strong for the asceticism of even mighty sages, so that their

merit melted, like a lump of snow, in the flame of their desire, and

their self-control vanished like stubble in a forest conflagration?

Nay, did not even Brahma assume his name,[18] becoming four-faced, in

order to gratify his intolerable thirst to behold the beauty of

Tilottamá performing a pradakshina around him, though he would not turn

his head? Therefore it is not to be doubted that in this case also,

the irresistible amber of feminine attraction will prove its power, and

draw this grass in the form of a Brahman any way it will, snapping like

thread the resolution which would chain him to his muttering, as soon

as it is seen.

And accordingly they drew up before them in a row the chorus of Indra's

heavenly dancers. And they chose out of them all that Apsaras who

seemed to them the least easily to be resisted, by reason of her

rounded arms and dainty ankles, and sent her down to earth with

suitable instructions, to seduce that Brahman from his muttering as

quickly as she could. But she, to her amazement, found on her arrival,

that, do what she might, she could not even so much as succeed in

inducing him to look at her sideways even for a moment. So, after a

while, she left him, and flew back to heaven in a pet. And they sent

instead of her another, who presently returned, having found herself as

ineffectual as the first. And they tried again, and sent, one after

another, the whole of Indra's chorus, pelting as it were that

stony-hearted old ascetic with a very shower of celestial flowers, and

gaining the very opposite of the end at which they aimed. For inasmuch

as he never ceased muttering even for a moment, all their efforts to

corrupt him and reduce his stock of merit only added to its heap,

making its mountainous proportions more formidable than before.

And finally Indra exclaimed in despair: We are conquered by this

_awatár_ of obstinacy in the form of an ascetic, on whose rock the

waves of this very sea of beauty beat in vain. And now there is no

refuge for us but in the sole of the foot of the Burner[19] of the

Bodiless God. For he alone is stronger than Love, whose power seems to

fail us in this pinch, rendered nugatory by the intractable composition

of this exasperating mutterer. And if even he can devise no remedy for

this disease, it is incurable; and then will this incorruptible old

devotee have us all at his mercy,[20] and bring heaven to its knees,

and turn, if he pleases, the three worlds upside down.

And then, led by Indra, they came altogether in a body to me; and

placing the difficulty before me, they waited with anxiety to hear what

I should say. And I looked there and then into the future, and saw in

its dark mirror, like a picture, the ruin of that old ambitious

Brahman, and the means by which it was destined to be accomplished.

And after a while, I said slowly: All diseases are not able to be

remedied by the same medicine, and notwithstanding the omnipotence of

feminine attraction, this is a case wherein heavenly nymphs are

impotent, and utterly without avail. For all these heavenly nymphs do

nothing but dance and sing and attitudinise and ogle, imagining that as

in the case of Menaká Tilottamá, Rambhá, and the rest, they have only

to show themselves to gain at once their end, trusting only to the body

and its beauty, and very shallow coquetry and artifices to sharpen the

edge of its effect, such as wind that stirs their clothing, or water

that causes it to cling to the outline of their limbs and reveal, as if

by accident, the thing that it pretends and is intended to conceal, and

other such devices. But this Trishodadhi is a fish that, as I

perceive, will not easily be caught by the bait of mere meretricious

beauty, and in his case, the hook must be hidden in a lure of quite

another kind. But there is a Daitya, named Aparapaksha,[21] living at

the very bottom of the sea, who has a hundred daughters. And were

beauty the necessary weapon in this instance, any one of them would

serve the turn, since all of them have bodies formed as it were of

ocean-foam, with lips of coral, and eyes like pools, and hair longer

than themselves, and voices like the echo of the waves; and only lately

I heard them singing all together as I passed, on an island shore, and

was myself all but bewitched, so that unawares I paused, hanging in the

air to listen, waylaid as it were by the magic and the spell of that

melancholy sound, forgetting my journey for the sake of their refrain.

But now, since something more is necessary, you must abandon all the

others, and betake you to the youngest of them all, who is rightly

named Kalánidhi, though she is the ugliest and cleverest woman in the

three worlds, for she is a very ocean of craft and trickery and

guile,[22] and very knavish in disposition, as full of deception and

caprice as the element in which she lives. And if you can get her to

assist you, I do not doubt you will succeed. And perhaps, if you tell

her that this is a matter in which all the heavenly nymphs have failed,

she will help you out of spite; for she is very jealous of them all,

and this is a glorious opportunity for her to show herself able to

accomplish a thing which has baffled the ingenuity and beauty of

everybody else. But certainly, if she either cannot or will not

overcome this obstacle, I think that even the elephant-headed Lord of

Obstacles himself would fail. For though beauty is a power stronger

than any other, it may nevertheless sometimes be successfully resisted.

But feminine ingenuity is a far more formidable antagonist, which no

man has ever yet successfully encountered since the beginning of the

world, since it is half protected by his own innumerable scruples in

its favour, being utterly destitute of any sort of scruple of its own.

And so, should Kalánidhi assist you, and fail after all, there is

nothing to be done: and under the weight of this Brahman's mountain of

accumulated merit, you must sink to the very bottom of the ocean of

defeat, like an earth bereft of the tortoise to save it on its back.

The Ashes of a God · 第 17 / 38 题