IV

For long ago, being, as I told thee, a king, named Ruru, I was married

in my youth to a queen. And she was beautiful, with a beauty that

resembled the beauty of a panther, for it was fierce and spotted and

treacherous and crafty, and I was a prey to it, for I was very young,

and I knew not anything of woman but her shell. And I was devoted to

my wife, and trusted her implicitly, and had never suspected her

fidelity even in a dream. And I returned suddenly one evening at

nightfall into my palace, and looked, and lo! she was fondling another

man, a Rajpoot, whom she had brought into the palace through a window

by a ladder, having fallen in love with him as she saw him in the

street.

So when I saw her, I uttered a cry, and stood. But they, seeing me,

separated like a flash of lightning, and fled, he back into the street,

and she to her own apartments. And where he went, or what she did, I

know not. But when the dawn was breaking, I looked, and again I saw

her coming back with stealthy step. And all at once, as she came, she

looked, and saw me standing, exactly where I stood before, never having

moved, all night long. And instantly, she stopped short, and gazed at

me with eyes that were filled with amazement, which changed, as I

watched her, into the extremity of fear. And all at once, I uttered a

terrible cry. And instantly she sank to the ground, bereft of reason.

But I turned, and ran away, and went out into the street.

And I wandered up and down in the darkness that was just becoming

daylight, with a soul on fire, not knowing where I went or what I did;

and I came suddenly upon a miserable wretch in ragged garments, and I

said to him: Change now very quickly thy garments for my own. And he,

looking at me, very rapidly agreed, and we changed, and I gave him all

my jewels, and put on his very loathsome rags; and so he went away.

And I said to myself: Now will I leave my palace and my kingdom, and

become a _sannyási_, turning my back upon the world. And lo! almost as

I spoke, another man suddenly came upon me, a little old man with grey

hair that escaped from his handkerchief,[5] and keen eyes like those of

a weasel. And he said to me: Ha! night-walker, who art thou? And I

laughed, guessing him to be a thief; and I said: Maharáj,[6] I am a

robber, like thyself. Then said that old man: I am the chief of all

the robbers in this city, and I know thee not. And I said: How

shouldst know me, who am but just arrived in the city, having fled here

by reason of trouble in my own? And he said: Wilt thou come and be of

mine? And I said: Aye! with thee or any other rascal. What does it

matter? And I laughed in bitterness, not caring if I died. Then that

little old man came up close, and looked at me narrowly for a while;

and he said: Thou art very young and handsome, and as I think, no thief

at all. And whence comes the trouble of the young but from women? And

I said: O king of robbers, thou art subtle; for I am indeed the victim

of a woman, and my life is at an end.

And then suddenly, that strange old man struck me a blow with his open

hand upon my shoulder, so hard, that it hurt. And he exclaimed: Fool!

art thou actually grieving for the loss of a woman? What! dost thou

not know, that he who loses one, can find without any difficulty a

hundred other women, just as good or better than herself? And as he

spoke, all at once I began to laugh, and as I laughed, I cried. And I

exclaimed: Ha! old thief, I am obliged to thee; and like a good

physician, thou hast cured my malady, with words that are sharper than

a knife. But beware! for if I ever meet thee again, I will have thee

thrown to be trampled by an elephant. And then I turned my back upon

him, and went away, and left him standing, saying to myself as I went:

He is right. And now, then, I will go back into my palace, and make

all the other women in the three worlds pay for the conduct of my wife.

Ha! I should indeed have been a fool, to become a _sannyási_, for such

a thing as her; and this old rascal has raised me as it were from the

dead, and replaced the _danda_[7] in my hand.

And then, O pippala, as I said, so I did. And laying the burden of the

state upon the shoulders of my minister, Trishodadhi, I ran wild among

the women of my kingdom, and I became an object of dread to every one

of my subjects that had either a daughter or a sister or a wife.

And as he listened, Trishodadhi said within himself: Aye! robber of a

king, so it was; and little dost thou dream how close to thee is a

living witness to the truth of thy words. And all forgetful of his

muttering, he listened eagerly for the remainder of the tale.

V

And the elephant said: Pippala, as it happened, I had for my _wita_[8]

a very incarnation of malignity and craft, on whom I laid the duty of

discovering every woman in my kingdom or elsewhere, whose beauty might

make her worthy of my regard. And this _wita_, while bringing to my

notice every day the treasures of others, never told me of his own, but

kept me scrupulously ignorant. But one day there came to me one of his

agents, to whom he had done some injury or other, and he said: O

Maharáj, thy _wita_ is offering thee husks, and keeping back the

kernel; possessing as he does a daughter more beautiful than the moon.

And hearing this, I flew into a rage. And I sent for the _wita_, and

compelled him, under penalty of death, to produce his daughter; and I

took her away from him, disregarding all his prayers. So at last,

finding all his supplications useless, all at once that _wita_ yielded,

and acquiesced in his dishonour, like an elephant tamed. Ha! had I

only known him, I should have put him instantly to death; for he was

but waiting till he saw his opportunity. And the consequence of my

action in this matter of the _wita_ and his daughter lay waiting: till

the time came, when it rose up suddenly like a cobra, and bit me in the

heel.

But in the meantime, careless of the _wita_ and his vengeance, I lived

like a mad bee, intent upon nothing but ruining the lotuses that I

rifled of their honey, remaining beside each, only so long as was

necessary to destroy it, after sipping its sweet. And gradually my

kingdom began to assume the semblance of a garden, in which every tree

was mourning, bewailing the fate of its loveliest blossoms, which lay

on the ground, trampled as it were into the mud. Enough! for why

should I detain thee and delay my own emancipation from this carcase of

an elephant by enumerating details that are not to the point. Know,

that there came a day, when having left as usual the burden of the

kingdom on the shoulders of my minister, I went out into the forest to

hunt. And after a while, growing weary of the chase, I dismissed my

attendants, and came slowly home alone, wandering after them on foot.

And I lingered as I went, listening to the noise of the canes, singing

in the breeze; aye! well do I remember the music that they made, as if

prognosticating by their exquisite melody the sweetness of the meeting

that was just on the very point of crossing my steps, to plunge my

soul, in the twinkling of an eye, as it were into a vat, and change its

dye, turning it first into red, and finally into deep and inalterable

blue.[9]

For as I rambled slowly on, it happened, by destiny's decree, that a

necklace of great pearls, that I always wore around my neck, its clasp

coming open, slipped off, and fell upon the ground. And at that very

moment, a bird of the race of hawks pounced suddenly upon it, and

carried it away, attracted by its glitter, or who knows? For I think

that the very god of Love took, it may be, that form of a bird, to

bring about his end. And I ran after it, as it were awaking from my

musing, with a shout, and the bird, after flying a little way, becoming

frightened, or it may be, by express design, let fall the necklace from

his claws, and flew away. And seeing it fall, I ran towards it, and

all at once, I found my way blocked by a very high wall, on the farther

side of which the necklace fell. And I went up to that wall, and as I

did so, I listened, and heard the noise of steps beyond the wall. And

instantly I called aloud: O thou, whoever thou art, beyond the wall,

know, that the necklace is mine. And hearing no answer, I looked

about, and seeing a tree standing near, I swung myself up, by means of

its branches, upon the wall, and looked over. And when I did so, lo!

there below me in the garden stood a young woman, looking up towards

me; and on the ground was the necklace, lying at her very feet.

And as I looked down at her, O pippala, all at once the necklace, the

very object of my coming, vanished clean out of my mind, obliterated in

an instant, and swept into oblivion by the wonder of her eyes. And yet

it was not merely their beauty that amazed me, pools of lapis lazuli

though they were, to whose brink that bird had brought me, as if to

drown me, dizzy at their very depth. But strange! fixed as they were,

upturned towards me, bent and as it were pointed full upon my own, they

never wavered, and I was puzzled by their gaze. For there was no

curiosity at all in them, nor any trace of timidity or fear, far less

of challenge, or anger, or agitation, or any tumult of emotion, but

rather an ocean, and as it were an atmosphere of silence, and shadowy

peace, and a spirit of unutterable quiet and repose, like that of some

unviolated water, bound by a spell of secrecy and lying hidden in the

middle of a forest, on whose dark film the dead leaves lie, unmoved by

animals that drink, or winds that blow. And so little did I seem to be

the target of those motionless unfathomable eyes, that I would have

turned my head, to discover what thing other than myself it was that

she regarded, but that I could not look away from them at all. And she

stood with her head, a little bent, like one that listens rather than

that looks, and thrown just a very little back upon her shoulders, so

that all unknown to her the round bosses of her wide and glorious bosom

stretched out and up towards me, as if dying to express that curiosity

and agitation which was wanting in her eyes, while her slender figure,

like a stalk, stood still and seemed to sway, as if with anxiety, lest

the weight that it supported should snap it in the middle. And as I

sat gazing, lost in a sea of perplexity and admiration, all at once she

spoke, and said in a low voice that resembled a caress rendered audible

to the ear: Who art thou, if, as I guess, thou hast climbed upon the

wall, and what is thy intention?

And I said, with confusion and surprise: I came upon the wall, O lady

of the lovely eyes, to recover yonder necklace which is lying at thy

feet. Then she said: Dost thou see it lying? And I said: Surely I see

it very plainly, as thou dost also. Then she said: Come down, then,

and take it, and begone. For I cannot do it for thee, seeing that I am

blind.

And Trishodadhi, as he listened, groaned within himself. And he

murmured: Aye! indeed! alas! so she was; and these were her very eyes:

and now well I know that the story of this elephant is true. And all

oblivious of his muttering, he listened to the tale.