And when he came to himself, he was back again among the poppies in the
_tamála_ wood. And he was lying on the ground, with Natabhrúkutí bending
over him, holding him by the hand, with anxiety in her eyes. And
instantly he started up, and seizing his sword, stood gazing at her with
stupefaction. And he said to himself: Am I dead or dreaming? And what
does it all mean? Is it a delusion of the Creator, or a mirage and a
madness of the desert, out of which I have never yet escaped at all?
Aye! beyond a doubt, I am wandering still in the waste of sand, raving
mad, and dying; and haunted by phantoms that are the premonitors of
approaching death.
So as he stood, balanced in the swing of perplexity, and doubting his
own reason, Natabhrúkutí looked at him fixedly, with concern and
affection and curiosity in her eyes. And she said: Surely thou art ill.
And why then dost thou shrink from me, as though I were a thing of
terror: I, who ask for nothing but to tend thee all my life? For it was
but now, as we spoke together in this wood, I looked up and saw thee
suddenly close thy eyes. And as I watched thee, wondering to see thee
sleeping as it were erect, there burst from thy lips a fearful cry, and
I had but time to catch thee falling, and let thee sink upon the ground.
And I brought thee to thyself, by fanning thee, as well as I might, with
this great leaf.
And she held it up before him, while he continued to gaze at her in
silence. And as he did not speak, she looked at him curiously, and
muttered under her breath, as though speaking to herself, and not
intending him to hear: Can he have suddenly recollected his former
birth, and is this the reason why he is staring at me, as if wishing to
compare me with a picture in his head? And as he still kept silence,
presently she said aloud: Dear, thou art sick: and much in need of
medicines, such as I alone can give thee. Why wilt thou not confide in
me? For I am a cunning leech, and know the virtue of every herb and
every vegetable drug better than Dhanwantari[16] himself. And I have
made myself mistress of every species of the art of healing, and in
particular, I have fed myself on perfumes, and on the essences of
flowers, and all the scented odours of aromatic shrubs, till I have
myself become as it were a very attar, incarnate in a woman's form. Dost
thou doubt it, and think me to be boasting? then try me, and I will
prove to thee my power by experiment, in any way thou wilt I will soothe
and shampoo[17] thee with a hand softer than a snowflake's fall and
cooler than the icy moon: or, if thou wilt, I will croon to thee old
airs, and put thee to sleep like a tired child, resting thy head on this
bosom which once was thy delight, with melodies that shall speak to thee
of drowzy bees and moaning winds: or I will steal thy waking senses from
thee and lure them into slumber as it were against thy will by snaring
them with fragrances more luscious than that _párijáta_ blossom, which
Wishnu once trailed through the intoxicated world, to drive it into
madness at the moment, and leave it filled with inconsolable regret when
it was gone. See, take this, and smell it, and thou wilt be better even
now.
[16] The physician of the gods, the Hindoo Aesculapius.
[17] The _Samwáhanam_ is one of those old Hindoo medical
resources which we have only recently been wise enough to
copy.
And she held out towards him, in the lotus of her hand, a tiny flower,
in colour like an atom of the concentrated essence of the sky. And as
Aja looked at it, there came from it a stream of a sharp and biting
scent, that rushed into his soul, coming laden as it were with
reminiscence and suggestions of the past; so that he said to himself:
Ha! of what does this remind me, and where is it that I smelled its
almost intolerable sweet before? And suddenly, the little hut rushed
into his mind, and he exclaimed: It is the very smell of the creeper on
its roof. And instantly, a feeling of amazement that almost overcame
him, mingled with terror, crept like a shudder over his limbs, and his
hair stood on end. And he looked at Natabhrúkutí, who was watching him
intently, and said, hoarsely: Who art thou, thou strange beauty, and
what dost thou want of me? And what is the meaning of these inexplicable
mysteries, before which I feel as if my reason were deserting me, and I
were about to faint again?