And the elephant said: Pippala, when I heard her, I came within a
little of falling from the wall, struck by the shock of pity and
amazement at her words. And I exclaimed: Blind, O thou beautiful and
unfortunate! But thou art surely jesting. What! can such eyes as
thine, more lovely than the pool in which the lotuses delight, O, which
put to shame the very heaven at midnight with its stars, be really
blind? And she said, quietly: Yet is it as I say. And I struck my
hands together, and groaned aloud, almost weeping, for remorse and
despair. And I exclaimed: Out, out on the Creator, who could be guilty
of so criminal a blunder as to make such eyes as thine, and yet forget
to give them sight, which he has been so careful to remember in the
case of every common eye! Then she said gently: Nay, utter no blame of
the Creator. Blame rather me myself, since doubtless this my blindness
is a punishment deserved, for sins committed by myself, in some
forgotten former birth, and the fruit of a tree I and no other planted.
Or rather, blame not anything at all, since thy business is neither
with my eyes, nor me, at all, but rather with thy necklace. Come, as I
said, and take it quickly, and begone.
And I looked at her for a moment in agitation, and I said, with
emphasis: Take thou the necklace; it is no longer mine, having fallen
at the feet of its proper owner: and wise was the bird that stole it
from me, to lay it where it is. This only I regret that alas! thou
canst not see it, for it is worthy of beauty such as thine. And she
smiled, looking at me, as it were, with those eyes that did not falter,
and she said: Stranger, what have I to do with thee or with thy
necklace? Come, now, cease talking nonsense on the wall, to one that
must not listen; but take thy necklace and begone.
O pippala, I know not if I tell thee what befel, so as to make thee
comprehend. But know, that in that moment since I came upon the wall,
I was changed. For her voice completed what her eyes began, and her
smile took my heart and set it shaking like a leaf with an ecstasy of
rapture and anxiety, causing me to tremble with so violent an agitation
that I could hardly keep my place upon the wall. And I knew that I was
looking at a woman of a kind that I had never seen before, and I tossed
away my past in the twinkling of an eye. And I said to myself,
quivering with the extremity of delight and the fever of determination:
Ha! then as it seems, destiny waited till this moment, to show me
perfection in the form of the woman of my dreams. And what! O thou
matchless, intoxicating beauty, now that I have found thee, dost thou
bid me go away, and leave thee as soon as found? Nay, nay; not for the
three great worlds with all that they contain, will I consent ever to
part from thee again. And now, thou shalt be my wife and queen,
whether thou wilt or no.
And at that moment, I think that the very god of Love himself put a
thought into my heart. And I looked at her with fierce affection, as
she stood waiting quietly below, and said softly to myself: I will
stay, O peremptory beauty, in despite of thee, and all the powers of
earth and heaven combined. And I said to her aloud: Since then I must,
and thou permittest, I will descend, and take it, and begone. And I
leaped from the wall towards her, awkward by express design, intending
to feign injury to myself, and with so good a will, that as it
happened, I actually did the very thing I meant to feign. And fell
heavily, bruising my foot upon the ground beside her, so that she drew
back in alarm. And I uttered a moan that was anything but feigned.
And immediately she said, with commiseration in her voice: Alas! now I
fear my impotence has been a cause of injury to thyself. Art thou
hurt? And I said: Nay, it is nothing. Let me rest for but a moment,
and so I will depart. And she hesitated, and said with indecision:
This is a misfortune and a difficulty. For I know thee not, being
utterly in the dark about thee; and I dare not stay beside thee, not
knowing who thou art. And yet, if thy voice is any indication of thy
quality, I think I need not fear thee. And I said hastily: Fear
absolutely nothing; and I will tell thee my family and name, in
exchange for thy own. And easy is it to perceive that thou art no
common person's wife. Then she said: I am called Watsatarí, and my
husband is the minister of the king, of whom doubtless thou hast
heard,[10] since everybody knows him, not only in this city, but
elsewhere.
And once again I started and exclaimed: What! the wife of Trishodadhi?
Then she said: I see, thou knowest. And I said again: What! can it be?
Trishodadhi? And as I spoke, I looked at her in absolute dismay. And
I murmured to myself: Alas! alas! Had she only been the wife of any
other husband in the three wide worlds, only not of him.
And Trishodadhi, as he listened, exclaimed within himself: Ah! yes,
indeed; thou art right. Had it only been any other husband than
myself, indeed it had been well. And oblivious of his muttering, he
listened in agitation to the tale.