So he came once more into that hall, looking like another man. And he
seemed in the eyes of the King like the rising sun of his daughter's
marriage, but in those of his daughter like the very God of Love, newly
risen from his own ashes. And he said joyously: O King, now I am again
myself: and my reason and my strength have both again returned to me.
And if in their absence, I behaved strangely and without good manners,
it behoves thee to lay the blame rather on the desert of sand, that
surrounds thy city, than on myself. For I was like one delirious, and
half distracted, by wonder and other feelings coming to the aid of
hunger and thirst. Then he told the King his name and family, and all
his story, looking all the while at the King's daughter, as she did all
the while at him, with glances that resembled sighs. But as he watched
her, Aja said to himself in wonder: What has happened to her, since I
saw her first, and what is the matter with her, now? For her quiet grief
has abandoned her, and she looks like one in a burning fever; and two
red spots, like suns, burn and blaze upon her cheeks, and her great eyes
shine and glow, as if there was a fire within her soul. So when he had
finished his own tale, he said: Now, then, O King, I have told thee all
that I have to tell. And now it is thy turn to speak. Explain to me all
this wonder; for I seem to move in a maze of extraordinary events. Why
are there, in thy city, no men, but only women? And what is the cause of
thy grief? And, greatest wonder of all, how comes it that thou hast
found a difficulty in finding a husband for this thy daughter? For, as
for myself, know, that, make any terms thou wilt, I am ready to marry
her, blindfold, on any conditions whatever: nay, would she only be my
wife, I should consider the fruit of my birth attained.
And then, to his amazement, that strange old King began to weep once
more. And tears flowed down his cheeks like rain, as he said: Alas!
alas! O son-in-law that would be, so fine a man art thou, that I am
distressed indeed to see thee, and to hear thee so eagerly proposing to
take my daughter for thy wife. For all that have preceded thee, and they
were many hundreds, have said the very same: and yet all without
exception have come to a miserable end: and there she is, unmarried
still[10]. And yet this is no fault of hers, unless indeed it be a fault
to be beautiful beyond compare. Nor has her maiden purity been sullied
in the least degree by ever a suitor of them all. But all this has come
about by reason of a fault of mine, itself, beyond a doubt, the bitter
fruit of the tree of crimes committed in a former birth. For know, that
long ago, when I was young, I conquered the entire earth, and brought it
all, from sea to sea, under the shadow of one umbrella. So when I was
reposing, after my exertions, one day there came to see me Nárada and
another _rishi_. And Nárada entered first. And when he complimented me,
as the chosen husband of the earth, I said to myself: Now, I must make
him some suitable return. And accordingly, I presented him with the
whole earth. Then he replied: O King, what is the use of the earth to
me? And he gave it back to me, with his blessing, saying: Obtain an
incomparably beautiful offspring[11]! and so he went away. And then the
other great _rishi_ entered, and congratulated me also. And I presented
him also with the entire earth. Then that _rishi_ looked at me with eyes
that were red with anger. And he said slowly: What! Is my merit utterly
despised? Dost thou presume to offer me only the leavings of another?
Thou shalt indeed obtain offspring, but only of the female sex. And
beautiful it shall be indeed: but little shall that beauty profit
either thyself or her. So having uttered his curse[12], he laughed, and
instantly went away, refusing to be propitiated or to throw any light
upon the future. And thereafter in due time there was born to me, not
the nectar of a son, but this lump of grief in the form of a daughter.
And as if her sex were not enough[13], her almost inconceivable beauty
and accomplishments have only added to my calamity: nay, they are the
very root of it, and the essence of its sting. For all has come to pass,
exactly as that testy old _rishi_ said. For though she is, as thou
seest, beautiful as the moon, and like it, full of arts[14], and above
all, a dancer that would turn even Tumburu green with envy, all this
nectar has become poison by the curse of that old ascetic, and the very
perfection of her beauty has become the means of undoing us both. For
about two years ago, as we were walking together at midnight, on the
terrace of the palace, that forms the edge of the city wall, enjoying
the cold camphor of the moon after the heat of a burning day, suddenly,
out of the desert, we heard as it were the rush of wings. And as we
stood and listened, there arose in the air a sound of voices, like those
of a man and woman in vehement dispute. But though we could distinguish
the tones, we could not understand the meaning, for the language was
unknown to us. And then, after a while, those two invisible air-goers
appeared all at once before our eyes, seated on the battlements, in the
form of a pair of vultures[15]. And immediately, the male vulture spoke
with a human voice, saying: O King, give me now this daughter of thine
to wife. And instantly I answered rashly: Never will I bestow my
daughter on a bird of ill-omen such as thou art. Thereupon that
evil-minded suitor laughed like a hyaena: and instantly my daughter fell
into a swoon. And as she lay in the moonlight, she looked so
indescribably and unutterably beautiful, that even that loathsome bird
was moved. And he said to his companion: Daughter, I was right, and
thou wert wrong. Look, and see, and allow, that she is far more
beautiful than even thou art. Thereupon that _gridhri_[16] laughed also,
and she said: Time shall show. Listen, King. This is Kírttisena, a
nephew of Wásuki, King of the Snakes, and I am his only daughter. For
this form of vulture was assumed by us, only to converse with thee. Now
he maintained thy daughter to be more beautiful than I am. Thereupon I
vowed vengeance. But I agreed to leave her unmolested, if thou didst
give her to him for a wife. So to preserve her from my vengeance, he
asked her of thee in marriage. Now, then, since thou hast rejected his
suit, despising him hastily for his outward form, and since my own
beauty has been slighted by his comparison, ye two shall be punished,
she for her beauty, and thou for thy insolence, and through the means of
that very beauty, on account of which my father and I have become
contemptible. See, O thou who despisest a suitor, whether thou canst
easily procure another. This shall be the condition of thy daughter's
marriage. Whatever suitor shall lay claim to her, thou shalt send up to
this terrace alone at flight. And if he claims, and does not come, we
will swallow thy city whole, houses and all. Then those two vultures
disappeared. And not long afterwards, hearing that my daughter was to be
given in marriage, suitors arrived like swarms of bees from every
quarter of the world, attracted by her fame. For she is called
Yashowatí, because the fame of her fills the world. Then all those
suitors followed one another, like the days of the year in which they
went, up upon the terrace of the city wall: and like those days, not one
of them all has ever returned, but they have vanished utterly, none
knows how, or where. And when all the distant suitors were exhausted,
and all the neighbouring kings, then, in my ardent desire to get her
married, no matter how, to no matter whom, I offered her to the men of
my own city, showing her to them from the palace windows. And every man
that saw her ran to win her; and one by one, the men of the city
followed after her former suitors, till they grew few in the city.
Thereupon the women banded together, and took their husbands and their
sons and everything in the shape of a man, and hid them: and now as thou
seest, there is not a man to be seen or found, in the whole city. But
every stranger that comes to the city, they catch, and bring him
straight to me, as they have done in thy case also. And the mere sight
of my daughter always makes him not only willing, but, as thou art, even
eager, to marry her at any cost. And yet they have all utterly vanished,
like stones, dropped, one after another, into a well without a floor.
And there is my daughter, maiden and unmarried still. And I can see my
ancestors, wringing their hands for grief: knowing well, that as soon as
I myself am dead, it is all over with their race. For who will offer
them water, since the fatal beauty of my only daughter has set a term to
my ancient line?
[10] It may not be superfluous to remind the English
reader, that, according to Hindoo ideas, there is no
disgrace like that of possessing an unmarried daughter.
Hence the practice, among the Rajpoots and adjacent
peoples, of destroying the female infants, to avoid it.
[11] Intending, of course, a son. Unfortunately he employed
a word of indeterminate gender: hence the lamentable
_denouement_. For in ancient India, as in ancient Rome, the
_spoken word_, the letter, determined everything.
[12] Nothing in Hindoo mythology is more absurd than the
implacable fury of the most holy men for the most trifling
slights, unless it be the accuracy with which their most
dreadful imprecations are literally fulfilled. This was, I
believe, characteristic also of the saints of Erin.
[13] An English lady having called, not long ago, at the
house of a Hindoo lady, to enquire how she was, after an
interesting event, and _what was the result_, received for
answer: Alas, _memsahib, nothing at all_: a girl. Had she
been a partisan of "woman's rights," she would probably
never have recovered from the shock.
[14] A play on words, not transferable to English.
[15] It is a very bad omen, in India, for a vulture to
settle on a house.
[16] A female vulture. I retain the original word, because
it seems to be peculiarly expressive of the thing.
So as Aja stood, lost in wonder at the old King's story, his daughter
suddenly rose to her feet with a shrill cry. And she exclaimed: O son of
a King, fly quickly! Hence! away! back with thee even into the desert,
and leave me and my father and this miserable city to our inevitable
fate. And she sank down in a swoon, and would have fallen to the ground,
but that Aja sprang quickly forward and caught her as she fell.
So as he stood, holding her in his arms, and wishing that her swoon
might last for ever, so only that he held her, for she stole away his
senses with the seduction of her fragrance and proximity, her father
exclaimed, in dismay: Ha! this is something new, and a thing that has
never occurred before. And what can be the matter now? O son of a King!
she must have fallen in love with thee, as well indeed she might, for
thy beauty and thy youth. And doubtless it has grieved her soul, to
think of thy approaching end. But alas! alas! this is worse than all.
For now, if thou fallest a victim, as cannot fail to be the case, like
all thy predecessors, she will herself not survive thee: and then,
indeed, there is an end of all. For as long as she was left to be
married, there was still a shadow of hope behind.
And he began to ramble about, wringing his hands for grief. But Aja said
to himself, with joy: Ha! this was all I wanted, if only it be true. And
he said to the King: O King, it will be time enough to afflict thyself
for her death or for mine, when we have actually died. But count me, in
the meantime, as thy son-in-law: and be under no anxiety as to the fate
of thy ancestors. For I will guarantee their good condition: and this
very night, I will rid thee of the evil demon that molests her. And
to-morrow, I will take this hand, and lead her round the fire[17].
[17] That is, marry her.
And he took her hand, as she lay in his arms, and touched it with his
lips.