{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_11499/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_11499","id":"gutenberg_11499","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11499","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Novels","Fantasy fiction"],"text":"AN ESSENCE OF THE DUSK\n\n\n\n    _Love turns venom, now I see,\n    Flouted Beauties vipers be._\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT\n\nBY\n\nF.W. BAIN\n\n\nDEDICATED TO THE OTHER SEX.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nMore generally known, perhaps, than any other Hindoo legend, is the\nstory of the demon, R\u00c1HU, who brings about ECLIPSES, by devouring the\nSun and Moon. For when the gods had upchurned the nectar, the delectable\nButter of the Brine, R\u00e1hu's mouth watered at the very sight of it: and\n\"in the guise of a god\" he mingled unperceived among them, to partake.\nBut the Sun and Moon, the watchful Eyes of Night and Day, detected him,\nand told Wishnu, who cast at him his discus, and cut his body from his\nhead: but not until the nectar was on the way down his throat. Hence,\nthough the body died, the head became immortal: and ever since, a thing\nunique, \"no body and all head,\" a byword among philosophers, he takes\nrevenge on Sun and Moon, the great Taletellers, by \"gripping\" them in\nhis horrid jaws, and holding on, till he is tired, or can be persuaded\nto let go. Hence, in some parts of India, the doleful shout of the\ncountry people at eclipses: _Chor do! chor do[1]!_ and hence, also, the\nprimary and surface meaning of our title: _A Digit of the Moon in the\nDemon's grip_: in plain English, _an eclipse of the moon_. And yet,\nlegend though it be, there is something in the old mythological way of\nputting the case, which describes the situation in eclipses, far better\nthan our arid scientific prose. I shall not easily forget, how, as we\nslid like ghosts at midnight, through the middle of the desert, along\nthe Suez Canal[2], I watched the ghastly pallor of the wan unhappy moon,\nas the horrible shadow crept slowly over her face, stealing away her\nbeauty, and turning the lone and level sands that stretched away below\nto a weird and ashy blue, as though covering the earth with a sepulchral\nsympathetic pall. For we caught the \"griesly terror,\" R\u00e1hu, at his\nhorrid work, towards the end of May, four years ago.\n\n   [1] _Let go! let go!_\n\n   [2] Though nothing can be less romantic than a canal,\n   gliding through that of Suez is a strange experience at\n   night. Your great ship seems to move, swift and noiseless,\n   through the very sand: and if only you could get there\n   without knowing where you were, you would think that you\n   were dreaming.\n\nBut our title has yet another meaning underneath the first, for _Ahi_,\nthe name employed for R\u00e1hu (like all other figures in Indian mythology,\nhe is known by many names), also means a _snake_. _Beauty persecuted by\na snake_ is the subject of the story. That story will presently explain\nitself: but the relation between _R\u00e1hu_, or eclipses, and a snake is so\ncuriously illustrated by a little insignificant occurrence that happened\nto myself, that the reader will doubtless forgive me for making him\nacquainted with it.\n\nBeing at Delhi, not many years ago, I seized the opportunity to visit\nthe Kutub Min\u00e1r. There was famine in the land. At every station I had\npassed upon the way were piled the hides of bullocks, and from the train\nyou might see their skeletons lying, each one bleaching where it died\nfor want of fodder, scattered here and there on the brown and burning\nearth; for even every river bed was waterless, and not a single blade of\ngreen could you descry, for many hundred miles. And hence it came about,\nthat as I gazed upon the two emaciated hacks that were to pull me from\nthe station, a dozen miles out, and as many more back, I could bring\nmyself to sit behind them only by the thought that thereby I should save\nthem from a load far greater than my own, that would have been their\nfate on my refusal. Therefore we started, and did ultimately arrive, in\nthe very blaze of noon.\n\nThe Kutub Min\u00e1r is a needle of red stone, that rises from a plain as\nflat as paper to a height of two hundred and fifty feet; and you might\ncompare it, as you catch, approaching, glimpses of it at a distance, to\na colossal chimney, a Pharos, or an Efreet of the Jinn. The last would\nbe the best. For nothing on the surface of the earth can parallel the\nscene of desolation which unrols itself below, if you climb its 380\nsteps and look out from the dizzy verge: a thing that will test both the\nmuscle of your knees and the steadiness of your nerves. Round you is\nempty space: look down, the pillar bends and totters, and you seem to\nrock in air; you shudder, you are falling; and away, away below, far as\nthe eye can carry, you see the dusty plain, studded with a thousand\ntombs and relics of forgotten kings. There is the grim old fortress of\nthe Toghlaks: there is the singular observatory of the r\u00e1j\u00e1 astronomer,\nJaya Singh: and there the tomb, Humaioon's tomb, before which Hodson,\nHodson the brave, Hodson the slandered, Hodson the unforgotten, sat, for\ntwo long hours, still, as if man and horse were carved in stone, with\nthe hostile crowd that loathed and feared him tossing and seething and\nsurging round him, waiting for the last Mogul to come out and be led\naway. The air is thick, and sparkles with blinding dust and glare, and\nthe wind whistles in your ears. Over the bones of dynasties, the hot\nwind wails and sobs and moans. Aye! if a man seeks for melancholy, I\nwill tell him where to find it--at the top of the old Kutub Min\u00e1r.\n\nAnd then, that happened which I had foreseen. We had not gone a mile\nupon our homeward way, when one of the horses fell. Therefore,\ndisregarding the asseverations of my rascally Jehu that the remaining\nanimal was fully equal to the task alone, I descended, and proceeded on\nfoot. But a ten mile walk on the Delhi plain in the hottest part of the\nday is not a thing to be recommended. After plodding on for about two\nhours, I was, like Langland, \"wery forwandred,\" and went me to rest, not\nalas! by a burnside, but in the shadow of one of the innumerable little\ntombs that stand along the dusty road. There I lay down and fell asleep.\n\nNothing induces slumber like exertion under an Indian sun. When I\nawoke, that sun was setting. A little way before me, the yellow walls of\nDelhi were bathed in a ruddy glow; the minarets of the Great Mosque\nstood out sharp against the clear unspotted amber sky. And as I watched\nthem, I suddenly became aware that I was myself observed with interest\nby a dusky individual, who was squatted just in front of me, and who\nrose, salaaming, when he saw that I was awake. It appeared that I had,\nso to say, fallen into a \"nest of vipers;\" that I had unwittingly\ninvaded the premises of a snake dealer, who, no doubt for solid reasons,\nhad made my friendly tomb the temporary repository of his\nstock-in-trade.\n\nThe Indian snake charmer, _g\u00e1ruda, hawadiga_[3], or whatever else they\ncall him, is as a rule but a poor impostor. He goes about with one\nfangless cobra, one rock snake, and one miserable mongoose, strangling\nat the end of a string. My dweller in tombs was richer than all his\ntribe in his snakes, and in his eyes. I have never seen anybody else\nwith real cat's eyes: eyes with exactly that greenish yellow luminous\nglare which you see when you look at a cat in the dark. They gleamed and\nrolled in the evening sun, over a row of shining teeth, as their owner\nsquatted down before me, liberating one after another from little bags\nand baskets an amazing multitude of snakes, which he fetched in batches\nfrom the interior of the tomb, till the very ground seemed alive with\nthem[4]. Some of them he handled only with the greatest respect, and by\nmeans of an iron prong. Outside the Zoo (where they lose in effect) I\nnever saw so many together before: and it is only when you see a number\nof these reptiles together that you realise what a strange uncanny\nbeing, after all, is a snake: and as you watch him, lying, as it were,\nin wait, beautiful exceedingly, but with a beauty that inspires you with\na shudder, his eyes full of cruelty and original sin, and his tongue of\nculumny and malice, you begin to understand his influence in all\nreligions. I was wholly absorbed in their snaky evolutions, and buried\nin mythological reminiscences, when my _g\u00e1ruda_ roused me suddenly, by\nsaying: _Huzoor_, look!\n\n   [3] _H\u00e1wa_, in Canarese, is the name of R\u00e1hu.\n\n   [4] I did not count them, but there were several dozen,\n   nearly all different. I have reason to believe that this\n   man must have been one of the disciples of a former very\n   celebrated snake charmer, who was known all over India.\n\nHe leaned over, and administered with his bare hand a vicious dig to a\nmagnificent hamadryad, that lay coiled upon itself in its open basket.\nThe creature instantly sat up, with a surge of splendid passion,\nhissing, bowing, and expanding angrily its great tawny hood. The\n_g\u00e1ruda_ put his _p\u00fangi_ to his lips, and blew for a while upon it a low\nand wheezy drone,--the invariable prelude to a little _jadoo_, or black\nart,--which the beautiful animal appeared to appreciate: and then,\npointing with the end of his pipe to the \"spectacles\" on its hood, he\nsaid, with that silky, insinuating smile which is characteristic of the\nscamp: _Huzoor, dekho, namas karta_[5]:--\n\n    _N\u00e1gki phani, ch\u00e1nd ka d\u00fakh\n    Uski badi, \u00e1p ka s\u00fakh_[6].\n\n   [5] _See, he makes obeisance._\n\n   [6] Which we may roughly render: _Hood of snake brings joy\n   and rue, this to moon and that to you._ In all Oriental\n   saws, jingle counts for much.\n\nI did not understand his lunar allusion, but, judging that his rhyming\ngibberish, like that of the rascally priests in Apuleius, was a\ncarefully prepared oracle of general application, kept in stock for the\ncozening of such prey as myself, I repeated to him my favourite Hindu\nproverb[7], and gave him, in exchange for his benevolent cheque on the\nfuture, a more commonplace article of present value, which led to our\nparting on the most amicable terms. But I did him injustice, perhaps.\nLong afterwards, having occasion to consult an astronomical chart, with\nreference to this very story, all at once I started, and in an instant,\nthe golden evening, the walls of Delhi, and my friend of the many snakes\nand sinister eyes, suddenly rose up again into my mind. For there,\nstaring at me out of the chart, was the mark on the cobra's head. It is\nthe sign still used in modern astronomy for \"the head and tail of the\ndragon,\" the nodes indicating the point of occultation, the symbol of\neclipse.\n\n   [7] \"_Tulsi, in this world hobnob with everybody: for you\n   never know in what guise the deity may present himself._\"\n   In the original it is a rhyming stanza.\n\nWhat then induced or inspired the _g\u00e1ruda_ to connect me with the moon?\nWas it really black art, divination, or was it only a coincidence?\nReason recommends the latter alternative: and yet, the contrary\npersuasion is not without its charm. Who knows? It may be, that the soul\ngrows to its atmosphere as well as the body, and living in a land where\ndreams are realities, and all things are credible, and history is only a\nfairy tale: the land of the moon and the lotus and the snake, old gods\nand old ruins, former births, second sight, and idealism: it falls back,\nunconsciously mesmerised, under the spell of forgotten creeds.\n\n\nPOONA,\n\n_April, 1906._\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\nI. A HAUNTED BEAUTY\n\nII. A TOTAL ECLIPSE\n\nIII. A FATAL KISS\n\n\n\n\nA Haunted Beauty.\n\n\n\nI.\n\n   _May that triumphant Lord protect us, who as he stands in\n   mysterious meditation, bathed in twilight, motionless, and\n   ashy pale[1], with the crystal moon in his yellow hair,\n   appears to the host of worshippers on his left, a woman,\n   and to those on his right, a man._\n\n   [1] Being actually smeared with ashes. The god is of course\n   Shiwa, and the allusion is to his _Ardhan\u00e1ri_, or half\n   male, half female form.\n\n\nThere lived of old, on the edge of the desert, a r\u00e1j\u00e1 of the race of the\nsun. And like that sun reflected at midday in the glassy depths of the\nM\u00e1nasa lake, he had an image of himself in the form of a son[2], who\nexactly resembled him in every particular, except age. And he gave him\nthe name of Aja, for he said: He is not another, but my very self that\nhas conquered death, and passed without birth straight over into another\nbody. Moreover, he will resemble his ancestor, and the god after whom I\nhave called him Aja[3]. So as this son grew up, his father's delight in\nhim grew greater also. For he was tall as a _sh\u00e1la_ tree, and very\nstrong, and yet like another God of Love: for his face was more\nbeautiful than the face of any woman, with large eyes like lapis-lazuli,\nand lips like laughter incarnate: so that his father, as often as he\nlooked at him, said to himself: Surely the Creator has made a mistake,\nand mixed up his male and female ingredients, and made him half and\nhalf. For if only he had had a twin sister, it would have been difficult\nto tell with certainty, which was which.\n\n   [2] This punning assonance is precisely in the vein of the\n   original.\n\n   [3] This name (pronounce Aj- to rhyme with _trudge_)\n   meaning both _unborn_ and _a goat_, is a name of the sun\n   (who was a goat in Assyria), the soul, Brahma, Wishnu,\n   Shiwa, the God of Love, and others. It was also the name of\n   Rama's grandfather.\n\nAnd then, when Aja was eighteen, his father died. And immediately, his\nrelations conspired against him, led by his maternal uncle. And they\nlaid a plot, and seized him at night, and bound him when he was asleep:\nfor they dared not attack him when he was awake, for fear of his courage\nand his prodigious strength. And they deliberated over him, as he lay\nbound, what they should do with him: and some of them were for putting\nhim to death, then and there. But the prime minister, who was in the\nplot, persuaded them to let him live: saying to himself: In this way I\nshall make for myself a loophole of escape, in case he should ever\nregain his throne.\n\nThen in the early morning, his uncle and his other relations took him\naway, and laid him bound on a swift camel. And mounting others, they\nhurried him away into the desert, going at full speed for hours, till\nthey reached its very heart. And there they set him down. And they\nplaced beside him a little water in a small skin, and a little bag of\ncorn. And his uncle said: Now, O nephew, we will leave thee, alone with\nthy shadow and thy life in the sand. And if thou canst save thyself, by\ngoing away to the western quarter, lo! it is open before thee. But\nbeware of attempting to return home, towards the rising sun. For I will\nset guards to watch thy coming, and I will not spare thee a second time.\n\nAnd then, he set his left arm free, and laid beside him a little knife.\nAnd they mounted their camels, and taking his, they flew away from him\nover the sand, like the shadow of a cloud driven by the western wind.\n\nSo when they were gone, Aja took the knife, and cut his bonds. And he\nstood up, and watched them going, till they became specks on the edge\nof the desert, and vanished out of his sight.\n\n\n\nII.\n\n\nThen he looked round to the eight quarters of the world, and he looked\nup into the sky. And he said to himself: There is my ancestor, alone\nabove, and I am alone, below. And he put his two hands to his breast,\nand flung them out into the air. And he exclaimed: Bho! ye guardians of\nthe world[4], ye are my witnesses. Thus do I fling away the past, and\nnow the whole wide world is mine, and ye are my protectors. And I have\nescaped death by a miracle, and the craft of that old villain of a prime\nminister, whom I will one day punish as he deserves. And now it is as\nthough I knew, for the very first time in all my life, what it was to be\nalive. Ha! I live and breathe, and there before me is food and water.\nAnd now we will see, which is the stronger: Death in the form of this\nlonely desert, or the life that laughs at his menace as it dances in my\nveins. And little I care for the loss of my kingdom, now that my father\nis dead and gone. I throw it away like a blade of grass, and so far from\nlamenting, I feel rather as if I had been born again. Ha! it is good to\nbe alive, even in this waste of sand. And he shouted aloud, and called\nout to the sun above him: Come, old Grandfather, thou and I will travel\ntogether across the sand. And yet, no. Thou art too rapid and too fierce\nto be a safe companion, even for one of thy own race. So thou shalt go\nbefore me, as is due to thee, and I will follow after.\n\n   [4] The _Lokap\u00e1las_, or regents of the world, often thus\n   appealed to, are eight: Kubera, Isha, Indra, Agni, Yama,\n   Niruti, Waruna, and Wayu: and they ride on a horse, a bull,\n   an elephant, a ram, a buffalo, a man, a \"crocodile,\" and a\n   stag.\n\nAnd then, he lay down on the sand, covering his head with his upper\ngarment, and slept and waited all day long, till the sun was going down.\nAnd then he rose, and eat and drank a very little, and taking with him\nhis skin and corn, he walked on after the sun, which sank to his rest in\nthe western mountain. But Aja followed him all night long, with the moon\nfor his only companion. And as he went, he saw the bones of men and\ncamels, lying along the sand, and grinning at him as it were with white\nand silent laughter, as though to say: Anticipate thy fate: for but a\nlittle further on, and thou shalt be what we are now. But he went on\nwith nimble feet, like one that hurries through the den of a sleeping\nhungry lion, till the sun rose at last behind him. And then again he lay\ndown, and rested all day long, and started again at night. And so he\nproceeded for many days, till all his water and corn was gone. And as he\nthrew away the skin, he set his teeth, and said: No matter. I will reach\nthe end of this hideous sand, which like the dress of Draupadi[5], seems\nto roll itself out as I go across it, though I should have to go walking\non long after I am dead.\n\n   [5] When she was lost in the gambling match, and Duhsh\u00e1sana\n   tried to strip her, still as he pulled off one dress,\n   another appeared below it, refusing to leave her naked.\n\nAnd night after night he went on, growing every night a little weaker.\nAnd then at last there came a night when as he toiled along with heavy\nsteps that flagged as it were with loaded feet, faint with hunger and\nburning thirst, he said to himself: I am nearly spent, and now the end\nis coming near, either of the sand, or me. And then the sun rose behind\nhim, and he looked up, and lo! it was reflected from the wall of a city\nbefore him, which resembled another sun of hope rising in the west to\ncheer him. And he rubbed his eyes, and looked again, saying to himself:\nIs it a delusion of the desert, to mock me as I perish, or is it really\na true city? And he said again: Ha! it is a real city. And his ebbing\nstrength came back to him with a flood of joy. And he stooped, and took\nup a little sand, and turned, and threw it back, exclaiming: Out upon\nthee, abode of death![6] Now, then, I have beaten thee, and thy victim\nwill after all escape. And he hurried on towards the city, half afraid\nto take his eyes away from it for a single instant, lest it should\ndisappear.\n\n   [6] Still the name of Marwar.\n\nSo as he drew near it, he saw a crowd upon its wall. And when he was\ndistant from it but a little way, suddenly its great gate's mouth was\nthrown open, and a stream of people shot from it like a long tongue, and\nrapidly came towards him, so that he said to himself: Ha! then, as it\nseems, I am expected by the citizens of this delightful city, who are as\neager to come to me as I am to get to them. And they came closer,\nclamouring and buzzing as it were like bees; and he looked and lo! they\nwere all women, and there was not a man among them all. And as he\nwondered, they ran up, and reached him, and threw themselves upon him\nlike a wave of the sea, laughing and crying, and drowning him in their\nembraces: and they took him as it were captive, and swept him away\ntowards the city, all talking at once, and deafening him with their\njoyful exclamations, paying not the least attention to anything that he\ntried to say. And Aja let himself go, carried away by all those women\nlike a leaf in a rushing stream. And he said to himself, in\nastonishment: What is this great wonder? For all these women fight for\nme, as if they had never seen a man in their lives before. Where then\ncan the men be, to whom they must belong? Or can it be, that I have come\nto a city composed of women without a man? Have I escaped the desert,\nonly to be drowned in a sea of women? For what is the use of a single\nman, in an ocean of the other sex? Or are they dragging me away to offer\nme up to the Mother[7], having sacrificed all their own husbands\nalready? Or have I really died in the desert, and is all this only a\ndream of the other world? Can these be the heavenly Apsarases, come in a\nbody to fetch me away, as if I had fallen in battle? Surely they are,\nfor some of them are sufficiently beautiful even for Indra's hall. And\nanyhow, it is better to be torn to pieces by beautiful women, even if\nthere are far too many, than to die in the desert, all alone.\n\n   [7] Durg\u00e1 or P\u00e1rwat\u00ed.\n\nSo as they bore him along, chattering on like jays and cranes, he said\nagain to the women next him: Fair ones, who are you, and where are you\ntaking me, and why in the world are you so greatly delighted to see me?\nAnd then at last, they replied: O handsome stranger, ask nothing: very\nsoon thou shalt know all, for we are carrying thee away to our King. And\nAja said to himself: Ha! So, then, there is a King. These women have,\nafter all, a King. Truly, I am fain to see him, this singular King of a\nfemale city. And weak as he was, he began to laugh, as they all were\nlaughing: and so they all surged on like a very sea of laughter, through\nthe gates of the city, and along the streets within, till they came at\nlast to the King's palace. And all the way, Aja looked, and there was\nnot to be seen so much as the shadow of a man in all the streets, which\noverflowed with women like the channel of a river in the rainy season.\n\nThen the guards of the palace doors, who were also women, took him, and\nled him in; and all the women who had brought him crowded in behind.\nAnd they mounted stairs, and after a while, they entered at last a great\nhall, whose pillars of alabaster were reflected in its dark green\ncrystal floor, giving it the semblance of a silent pool in which a\nmultitude of colossal swans had buried their necks beneath the water.\nAnd there Aja found himself in the presence of the King.\n\nAnd instantly, all the women screamed together: Victory to thee,\nMahar\u00e1j\u00e1! for here have we brought thee another husband for thy lovely\ndaughter. And Aja started. And he said to himself: Another husband! How\nmany husbands, then, has this strange King's daughter got already? Has\nshe an insatiable thirst for husbands, whose number I am brought to\nswell? So as he stood reflecting, the King leaped from his throne, and\ncame towards him. And as Aja looked at him, he was seized with amazement\ngreater than before. For the King resembled a very incarnation of the\nessence of grief, yet such, that it was difficult to behold him without\nlaughter, as if the Creator had made him to exhibit skill in combining\nthe two. For his long thin hair was pure white, as if with sorrow, and\nhis eyes were red, as if with weeping, and great hollow ruts were\nfurrowed in his sunk and withered cheeks, as if the tears had worn\nthemselves channels in which to run. And though he was tall, he was\nbent and old, as if bowed down by a load of care. And he tried, as if in\nvain, to smile, as he said in a mournful voice that quavered and\ncracked: O man, whoever thou art, long have I waited for thee, and glad\nindeed I am to see thee, and inclined to dance like a peacock at the\nsight of a rainy cloud.\n\nAnd as he gazed upon the King, Aja was seized with sudden laughter that\nwould not be controlled: saying within himself: Much in common they have\nbetween them, a dancing happy peacock, and this doleful specimen of a\nweeping King! And he laughed, till tears ran down his cheeks also, as if\nin imitation of those of the King. And when at last he could speak, he\nsaid: O King, forgive me. For I am very weak, and have come within a\nlittle of dying in the desert. And I laughed from sheer exhaustion, and\nfor joy to see in thy person as it were the warrant of my escape from\ndeath. Give me food, and above all, water, if thou wouldst not have me\ndie at thy feet. And afterwards, show me, if thou wilt, thy daughter, to\nwhom, as it seems, I am to be married, whether I will or no. And the\nKing said: O thou model of the Creator's cunning in the making of man,\nthy hilarity is excused. Food thou shalt have, and water, and\neverything else thou canst require, and that immediately. But as for my\ndaughter, there she is before thee. And she could teach dancing even to\nTumburu himself[8].\n\n   [8] A Ghandarwa, or heavenly musician, and the dancing\n   master of the Apsarases. [Pronounce tum- to rhyme with\n   _room_, rather short.]\n\n\n\nIII.\n\n\nAnd then, as the laughter surged again in Aja's soul, saying within\nhimself: Out on this pitiable old scarecrow of a King, whose only\nthought is dancing! the King turned, and stood aside. And Aja looked,\nand instantly, the laughter died out of his heart, which ceased as it\nwere to beat. And he murmured to himself: Ha! this is the most wonderful\nthing of all. King and women and desert and all vanished out of his\nmind, as if the sentiment that suddenly seized it filled it so\ncompletely as to leave room for nothing else. And he stood still gazing,\nfeeling as though he were spinning round, though he was standing still\nas death. For there before him stood this enigmatical King's daughter.\nAnd like her father, she also seemed an incarnation of the soul of\ngrief, not as in his case ignominious, and an object of derision, but\nrather resembling a heavenly drug, compounded of the camphor of the cold\nand midnight moon, that had put on a fragrant form of feminine and fairy\nbeauty to drive the world to sheer distraction, half with love and half\nwith woe. For like the silvery vision of the newborn streak of that Lord\nof Herbs, she was slender and pale and wan, formed as it seemed of some\nnew strange essence of pure clear ice and new dropt snow, and she loomed\non the soul of Aja out of the blackness of his trance like a large white\ndrooping lily, just seen in the gloom of an inky night. And her hair and\nbrow were the colour of a thunder-cloud in the month of Chaitra[9], and\nlike that cloud, the heavy sorrow hung in her great dark mournful eyes,\ndrenching him as it were with a shower of dusky dreamy dewy beauty, and\ndrawing him down bewitched and lost like the victim of a haunted pool\ninto the snaky eddy of their silent unfathomable recess. And yet her\ndeep red lips trembled, as it were on the very border of a smile, as if\nthey were hinting against their will of a mine of laughter and subtle\nsnares that they were not allowed to use. And she had risen up to come\nand meet him, yet was hanging back as if reluctant, and so she stood,\nall reflected in the polished floor, with her head thrown back to look\nat him, for she was very small, like one on the very point of imploring\nhelp, yet shrinking, as if too proud to ask it from a stranger, balanced\nas it were between reliance on her own pure and pleading beauty and\ndoubtfulness of its reception. So she halted irresolute, with glorious\nthroat that was hovering still over the swell of her lifted breasts,\npoised as it were on the very verge of tumultuous oscillation, like that\nof Rati, preparing with timidity to cast herself at the feet of the\nthree-eyed God, to beg back the body of her burned-up husband in a\npassion of love-lorn tears.\n\n   [9] April.\n\nAnd Aja stood before her, like the sea when the digit of the moon rises\nsuddenly over its waves, stirred with a tumult of strange emotions, and\nyet lit by a heavenly ray, a mass of agitated darkness mixed with\ndancing, trembling light; all unaware that he was himself to the King's\ndaughter exactly what she was to him, a weapon of bewilderment in the\nhands of the cunning god of the flowery bow, who shot him suddenly at\nher, like an arrow of intoxication, and pierced her through the very\nmiddle of the soft lotus of her heart.\n\nSo they two stood awhile in silence. And all at once, Aja spoke, not\nknowing that he spoke aloud. And he said, very slowly: How many\nhusbands, then, have already had this lustrous beauty, who looks for all\nas pure and pale and undefiled as a new young delicate jasmine bud? And\ninstantly, as if roused from sleep by his reproach, he saw the colour\nleap up into her cheek, and spread like dawn flushing over her burning\nthroat and brow. And she drew a sudden breath, and her bosom heaved\nabruptly as if with a sob of shame. And at that moment, the voice of the\nKing her father broke harshly into Aja's dream, saying: Alas! alas!\nNever a husband has had her yet, though she is now long past sixteen,\nand could even teach Tumburu dancing.\n\nAnd then, as if the King's words had suddenly lifted a weight from his\nsoul, Aja burst into a shout of laughter. And he tottered, as if to\nfall. And he caught at the old King's arm, and gripped it so that he\nalmost screamed, exclaiming amid his laughter: Ha! King, I am also the\nson of a King: and now I will be thy son-in law. And she shall have a\nhusband at last, and teach him, if she pleases, dances, that even\nTumburu does not know. And with that, he fell into such a paroxysm of\nlaughter, that weak as he was, he could not stand, but fell: and his\nlaughter turned to sobbing. Then the King's daughter turned to her\nfather, with an angry flush on her brow. And she said, with strong\nemotion: O father, wilt thou delay for ever to send for food and water?\nDost thou not see that this King's son, great and powerful though he be,\nis weak, and it may be, perishing, before thy face, of hunger and\nthirst, having escaped by a miracle out of the desert to die by thy\nneglect.\n\nAnd she clapped her hands, stamping her foot in indignation. Then the\nwomen ran, and took up Aja, and carried him away. And they bathed him,\nand tended him, and fed him till he was recovered: and after a while,\nthey brought him back, into the presence of the King.\n\n\n\nIV.\n\n\nSo he came once more into that hall, looking like another man. And he\nseemed in the eyes of the King like the rising sun of his daughter's\nmarriage, but in those of his daughter like the very God of Love, newly\nrisen from his own ashes. And he said joyously: O King, now I am again\nmyself: and my reason and my strength have both again returned to me.\nAnd if in their absence, I behaved strangely and without good manners,\nit behoves thee to lay the blame rather on the desert of sand, that\nsurrounds thy city, than on myself. For I was like one delirious, and\nhalf distracted, by wonder and other feelings coming to the aid of\nhunger and thirst. Then he told the King his name and family, and all\nhis story, looking all the while at the King's daughter, as she did all\nthe while at him, with glances that resembled sighs. But as he watched\nher, Aja said to himself in wonder: What has happened to her, since I\nsaw her first, and what is the matter with her, now? For her quiet grief\nhas abandoned her, and she looks like one in a burning fever; and two\nred spots, like suns, burn and blaze upon her cheeks, and her great eyes\nshine and glow, as if there was a fire within her soul. So when he had\nfinished his own tale, he said: Now, then, O King, I have told thee all\nthat I have to tell. And now it is thy turn to speak. Explain to me all\nthis wonder; for I seem to move in a maze of extraordinary events. Why\nare there, in thy city, no men, but only women? And what is the cause of\nthy grief? And, greatest wonder of all, how comes it that thou hast\nfound a difficulty in finding a husband for this thy daughter? For, as\nfor myself, know, that, make any terms thou wilt, I am ready to marry\nher, blindfold, on any conditions whatever: nay, would she only be my\nwife, I should consider the fruit of my birth attained.\n\nAnd then, to his amazement, that strange old King began to weep once\nmore. And tears flowed down his cheeks like rain, as he said: Alas!\nalas! O son-in-law that would be, so fine a man art thou, that I am\ndistressed indeed to see thee, and to hear thee so eagerly proposing to\ntake my daughter for thy wife. For all that have preceded thee, and they\nwere many hundreds, have said the very same: and yet all without\nexception have come to a miserable end: and there she is, unmarried\nstill[10]. And yet this is no fault of hers, unless indeed it be a fault\nto be beautiful beyond compare. Nor has her maiden purity been sullied\nin the least degree by ever a suitor of them all. But all this has come\nabout by reason of a fault of mine, itself, beyond a doubt, the bitter\nfruit of the tree of crimes committed in a former birth. For know, that\nlong ago, when I was young, I conquered the entire earth, and brought it\nall, from sea to sea, under the shadow of one umbrella. So when I was\nreposing, after my exertions, one day there came to see me N\u00e1rada and\nanother _rishi_. And N\u00e1rada entered first. And when he complimented me,\nas the chosen husband of the earth, I said to myself: Now, I must make\nhim some suitable return. And accordingly, I presented him with the\nwhole earth. Then he replied: O King, what is the use of the earth to\nme? And he gave it back to me, with his blessing, saying: Obtain an\nincomparably beautiful offspring[11]! and so he went away. And then the\nother great _rishi_ entered, and congratulated me also. And I presented\nhim also with the entire earth. Then that _rishi_ looked at me with eyes\nthat were red with anger. And he said slowly: What! Is my merit utterly\ndespised? Dost thou presume to offer me only the leavings of another?\nThou shalt indeed obtain offspring, but only of the female sex. And\nbeautiful it shall be indeed: but little shall that beauty profit\neither thyself or her. So having uttered his curse[12], he laughed, and\ninstantly went away, refusing to be propitiated or to throw any light\nupon the future. And thereafter in due time there was born to me, not\nthe nectar of a son, but this lump of grief in the form of a daughter.\nAnd as if her sex were not enough[13], her almost inconceivable beauty\nand accomplishments have only added to my calamity: nay, they are the\nvery root of it, and the essence of its sting. For all has come to pass,\nexactly as that testy old _rishi_ said. For though she is, as thou\nseest, beautiful as the moon, and like it, full of arts[14], and above\nall, a dancer that would turn even Tumburu green with envy, all this\nnectar has become poison by the curse of that old ascetic, and the very\nperfection of her beauty has become the means of undoing us both. For\nabout two years ago, as we were walking together at midnight, on the\nterrace of the palace, that forms the edge of the city wall, enjoying\nthe cold camphor of the moon after the heat of a burning day, suddenly,\nout of the desert, we heard as it were the rush of wings. And as we\nstood and listened, there arose in the air a sound of voices, like those\nof a man and woman in vehement dispute. But though we could distinguish\nthe tones, we could not understand the meaning, for the language was\nunknown to us. And then, after a while, those two invisible air-goers\nappeared all at once before our eyes, seated on the battlements, in the\nform of a pair of vultures[15]. And immediately, the male vulture spoke\nwith a human voice, saying: O King, give me now this daughter of thine\nto wife. And instantly I answered rashly: Never will I bestow my\ndaughter on a bird of ill-omen such as thou art. Thereupon that\nevil-minded suitor laughed like a hyaena: and instantly my daughter fell\ninto a swoon. And as she lay in the moonlight, she looked so\nindescribably and unutterably beautiful, that even that loathsome bird\nwas moved. And he said to his companion: Daughter, I was right, and\nthou wert wrong. Look, and see, and allow, that she is far more\nbeautiful than even thou art. Thereupon that _gridhri_[16] laughed also,\nand she said: Time shall show. Listen, King. This is K\u00edrttisena, a\nnephew of W\u00e1suki, King of the Snakes, and I am his only daughter. For\nthis form of vulture was assumed by us, only to converse with thee. Now\nhe maintained thy daughter to be more beautiful than I am. Thereupon I\nvowed vengeance. But I agreed to leave her unmolested, if thou didst\ngive her to him for a wife. So to preserve her from my vengeance, he\nasked her of thee in marriage. Now, then, since thou hast rejected his\nsuit, despising him hastily for his outward form, and since my own\nbeauty has been slighted by his comparison, ye two shall be punished,\nshe for her beauty, and thou for thy insolence, and through the means of\nthat very beauty, on account of which my father and I have become\ncontemptible. See, O thou who despisest a suitor, whether thou canst\neasily procure another. This shall be the condition of thy daughter's\nmarriage. Whatever suitor shall lay claim to her, thou shalt send up to\nthis terrace alone at flight. And if he claims, and does not come, we\nwill swallow thy city whole, houses and all. Then those two vultures\ndisappeared. And not long afterwards, hearing that my daughter was to be\ngiven in marriage, suitors arrived like swarms of bees from every\nquarter of the world, attracted by her fame. For she is called\nYashowat\u00ed, because the fame of her fills the world. Then all those\nsuitors followed one another, like the days of the year in which they\nwent, up upon the terrace of the city wall: and like those days, not one\nof them all has ever returned, but they have vanished utterly, none\nknows how, or where. And when all the distant suitors were exhausted,\nand all the neighbouring kings, then, in my ardent desire to get her\nmarried, no matter how, to no matter whom, I offered her to the men of\nmy own city, showing her to them from the palace windows. And every man\nthat saw her ran to win her; and one by one, the men of the city\nfollowed after her former suitors, till they grew few in the city.\nThereupon the women banded together, and took their husbands and their\nsons and everything in the shape of a man, and hid them: and now as thou\nseest, there is not a man to be seen or found, in the whole city. But\nevery stranger that comes to the city, they catch, and bring him\nstraight to me, as they have done in thy case also. And the mere sight\nof my daughter always makes him not only willing, but, as thou art, even\neager, to marry her at any cost. And yet they have all utterly vanished,\nlike stones, dropped, one after another, into a well without a floor.\nAnd there is my daughter, maiden and unmarried still. And I can see my\nancestors, wringing their hands for grief: knowing well, that as soon as\nI myself am dead, it is all over with their race. For who will offer\nthem water, since the fatal beauty of my only daughter has set a term to\nmy ancient line?\n\n   [10] It may not be superfluous to remind the English\n   reader, that, according to Hindoo ideas, there is no\n   disgrace like that of possessing an unmarried daughter.\n   Hence the practice, among the Rajpoots and adjacent\n   peoples, of destroying the female infants, to avoid it.\n\n   [11] Intending, of course, a son. Unfortunately he employed\n   a word of indeterminate gender: hence the lamentable\n   _denouement_. For in ancient India, as in ancient Rome, the\n   _spoken word_, the letter, determined everything.\n\n   [12] Nothing in Hindoo mythology is more absurd than the\n   implacable fury of the most holy men for the most trifling\n   slights, unless it be the accuracy with which their most\n   dreadful imprecations are literally fulfilled. This was, I\n   believe, characteristic also of the saints of Erin.\n\n   [13] An English lady having called, not long ago, at the\n   house of a Hindoo lady, to enquire how she was, after an\n   interesting event, and _what was the result_, received for\n   answer: Alas, _memsahib, nothing at all_: a girl. Had she\n   been a partisan of \"woman's rights,\" she would probably\n   never have recovered from the shock.\n\n   [14] A play on words, not transferable to English.\n\n   [15] It is a very bad omen, in India, for a vulture to\n   settle on a house.\n\n   [16] A female vulture. I retain the original word, because\n   it seems to be peculiarly expressive of the thing.\n\nSo as Aja stood, lost in wonder at the old King's story, his daughter\nsuddenly rose to her feet with a shrill cry. And she exclaimed: O son of\na King, fly quickly! Hence! away! back with thee even into the desert,\nand leave me and my father and this miserable city to our inevitable\nfate. And she sank down in a swoon, and would have fallen to the ground,\nbut that Aja sprang quickly forward and caught her as she fell.\n\nSo as he stood, holding her in his arms, and wishing that her swoon\nmight last for ever, so only that he held her, for she stole away his\nsenses with the seduction of her fragrance and proximity, her father\nexclaimed, in dismay: Ha! this is something new, and a thing that has\nnever occurred before. And what can be the matter now? O son of a King!\nshe must have fallen in love with thee, as well indeed she might, for\nthy beauty and thy youth. And doubtless it has grieved her soul, to\nthink of thy approaching end. But alas! alas! this is worse than all.\nFor now, if thou fallest a victim, as cannot fail to be the case, like\nall thy predecessors, she will herself not survive thee: and then,\nindeed, there is an end of all. For as long as she was left to be\nmarried, there was still a shadow of hope behind.\n\nAnd he began to ramble about, wringing his hands for grief. But Aja said\nto himself, with joy: Ha! this was all I wanted, if only it be true. And\nhe said to the King: O King, it will be time enough to afflict thyself\nfor her death or for mine, when we have actually died. But count me, in\nthe meantime, as thy son-in-law: and be under no anxiety as to the fate\nof thy ancestors. For I will guarantee their good condition: and this\nvery night, I will rid thee of the evil demon that molests her. And\nto-morrow, I will take this hand, and lead her round the fire[17].\n\n   [17] That is, marry her.\n\nAnd he took her hand, as she lay in his arms, and touched it with his\nlips.\n\n\n\nV.\n\n\nAnd instantly, as though his kiss had been to her like sandal and like\npalm-leaf fans, she came back to herself. And when she saw who held her,\nshe started up, and stood, blushing the colour of her own lips, with\neyes cast upon the ground. And the King said: O daughter, what is this?\nDoes it become a high caste maiden outwardly to exhibit her inward\nfeelings, and abandon the straight line of virgin modesty by behaviour\nthat betrays her heart?\n\nAnd then, Yashowat\u00ed sighed deeply. And she looked for a while in\nsilence, first at her father, and then at Aja: and all at once, she\nstood erect, like one seized by sudden resolution, and she clapped her\nhands together, and exclaimed, in a voice that shook and quivered with\nemotion: Ha! who can hide a forest fire by covering it over with a\nlittle straw, or what does maiden conduct matter, in the ruin of the\nthree worlds! Aye! the fire of grief consumed me, to see this noble son\nof a king, and to think that he escaped the desert only to meet his\ndeath from me. Now has my punishment come upon me in the form of this\ntall and splendid youth. For I grieved for the fate of my former\nsuitors, and yet I saw them for all that go, one by one, to their\nuseless doom, and still myself remained alive. Long ago, beyond a doubt,\nI ought myself to have left the body, and perished of my own accord,\nrather than consent to live, the cause of death to so many others: and\nby putting myself to death, I should have cut in two the fatal chain of\ntheir succession, and saved their lives by the substitute of my own. And\nnow, instead, I have been as it were their murderess, and a death to\nthem all in female form. And now the Deity has avenged them, by sending\nto me at last the God of Love in human shape, whose death will be a\ngrief to me a hundred fold more awful than any death I could have died.\nAnd I myself shall not survive him. Then why waste time in chiding one\nwho has but one more day to live? For as soon as night arrives, he must\ngo like the rest to meet his doom: and certain it is, that I shall not\nlive to see the sun rise again without him.\n\nAnd as she spoke, they gazed at her, astonished. For she seemed like one\nthat has burst the bonds of all restraint, and thrown all consideration\nto the eight quarters of the world. But as soon as she stopped, the old\nKing uttered a doleful cry. And he exclaimed: Yashowat\u00ed, O daughter,\nwhat words are these? Is it any fault of thine that thou art beautiful?\nAnd wilt thou talk of abandoning the body? Then what will become of the\nfamily, of which thou art the only hope? But Aja laughed: and he said: O\nlovely lady, waste not thy grief on such a thing as I am: and O\nfather-in-law, cease from bewailing calamities that are only the shadows\nof thy own fears cast upon the dark curtain of the future. For many are\nthey that are doomed to die, yet never perish after all. And I have not\nescaped the sand, to perish lightly in any other way. Be assured that\nthe lamp of thy race is burning still with a steady flame, not to be\nextinguished by a little puff of wind. To-morrow we will laugh together\nover these idle apprehensions, which the rising sun will dissipate\ntogether with the mists of night.\n\nBut Yashowat\u00ed turned, and looked at him with steady eyes. And she said:\nMy husband, for such indeed thou art, the first that I have ever\nchosen[18], and the last that shall ever claim my hand: dost thou think\nthat I would have so far forgotten the reserve that is becoming to a\nmaiden of my caste, as to offer myself like an _abhis\u00e1rik\u00e1_, but that I\nknow, as thou canst not know it, the absolute and utterly inevitable\ncertainty of thy doom, and that this is the very last day we shall spend\ntogether, though it is also the very first? And Aja looked at her with\naffection: and he laughed again. And he said: Sweet wife, since thou art\nso very certain, then as it must be, let it be. What care I for\nto-morrow, if I am with thee all to-day? Know, that but an hour ago,\nwhen first I saw thee, I would have given my life, doubly dear as it was\nby reason of its recent escape from death, to win from thee a little\nlove, even a very little. But as it is, a single day is life enough,\nprovided it is spent with thee, even though I were really destined never\nto see another.\n\n   [18] This was the privilege of kings' daughters.\n\nAnd she looked at him with wistful eyes; and after a while, she said:\nThou art brave, and as I would have had thee. And thou dost not believe\nme: and it may be, it is better so. And then she turned to the King, and\nsaid: O father, go away now: and leave me alone with my husband. And be\nnot afraid, either for thy honour or my own, for there shall be as it\nwere a sword between us. But I wish to have him all to myself, until the\nend. And when the time has come, let the gong be sounded, and I will\nsend him out to thee, and thou canst show him the way to death. And\nthereupon the old King went away as she desired, moaning and muttering,\nand wringing his hands with grief.\n\nSo when he was gone, those two lovers sat together all day long, gazing\nat each other like the sunflower and the sun. And he utterly forgot the\nmorrow, but it never left her mind, even for a single instant. And she\nmade him relate to her his whole life from the very beginning, drinking\nin his words, and hanging on his lips, and watching him keenly, with\neyes that never left his face, holding all the while his hand, with the\ngrasp of one who knows that her husband must be led to execution in the\nevening. And she said to herself, at every moment: Still he is here:\nstill he is here. And when the sun set, she sent for food and delicacies\nand wine, and fed him like a child with her own hand, tasting herself\nnothing. And she surfeited him with the honey of her sweetness and the\nsyrup of her kisses and the nectar of the young new moon of beauty\nbathed in the sun of love, the redder[19] because of its approaching\nset. And all at once, she started to her feet, in the very middle of a\ncaress. And she stood, listening. And Aja listened also: and he heard in\nthe silence the sound of a gong.\n\n   [19] A play on words: meaning also _more affectionate_.\n\nSo as he watched her, she turned paler and ever paler, like the east at\nthe break of dawn. And she put her two hands together, and pressed them\ntight against her heart, and then against her brow. And all at once, she\ncame quickly to him, and said in a low voice: It is time. And she took\nhis head in her hands, and kissed him, with lips that were cold as ice,\nand yet hot as fire, first on the eyes, and then on the mouth, and last\nof all upon the brow. And then she took his hand, and held it for a\nlittle while, with a clutch that almost hurt him, gazing at him with\nthirsty eyes. And suddenly, she threw away his hand, and pushed him away\nroughly, saying: Go. But Aja caught her in his arms, and kissed her yet\nagain, as it were against her will. And he said: O fearful heart, be not\nafraid. Very soon, I will return. And he went away quickly, but at the\ndoor he turned, and saw her standing still, watching him with dry bright\neyes, and lips that were shut tight. And at that very moment, the old\nKing took him by the arm, and said: Come now, and I will show thee the\nway by which all thy predecessors went before thee.\n\nThen Aja said: O King, I am unarmed. Give me a weapon to carry with me.\nSo the King took him into the armoury, and he chose for himself a sword\nalmost as long as he was tall. But he threw away the scabbard, saying:\nThis would only be in the way: and now, I am prepared. And then the King\nled him away, and up a winding stair.\n\nAnd when they were at the top, he stopped. And he said: O son-in-law\nthat might have been, now fare thee well. And even I feel it harder to\npart with thee than with any of thy predecessors. Thou wouldst have made\nan altogether appropriate husband for my daughter, and O! that thou\ncouldst have seen her dance, before thus disappearing: but now it is too\nlate, for I doubt whether Tumburu himself could make her dance to-night,\nso troubled did she seem to be at bidding thee good bye. Go out, now,\nthrough yonder door: and thou wilt be more fortunate than all the\nothers, if thou canst manage to return through it.\n\nThen he went back into the palace. But Aja passed through the door, and\nfound himself on the city wall.\n\n\n\n\nA Total Eclipse.\n\n\n    _Then kith and kin and home forget, and all,\n      To sail beyond the setting-sun, with me,\n    Where dead love's dreamy recollections call\n                             Across the sea._\n\n\n\nI.\n\n\nAnd he stood on the edge of the city wall, with his naked sword in his\nhand. And he looked on this side and on that, and saw the turrets of the\ncity jutting out along the wall, like the huge black heads of elephants\nof war advancing in a line. And behind him lay the city, covered over\nwith a pall of black that was edged and touched with silver points and\nfringes; and before him the desert stretched away, smeared as it were\nwith ashes, under the light of the moon. And brave as he was, his heart\nbeat, just a very little, in expectation of what was coming. And he said\nto himself: My father-in-law's dismissal was not very reassuring. But\nwhere then is the danger, and from what quarter is it coming, and what\nform will it take? For here is nothing whatever to fight with, except\nthe shadows cast by the moon. Or is this all merely a trick of the King\nto test me, before which all my predecessors have ignominiously failed?\nYet no. For were it so, my wife would indeed be an actress[1] capable of\nreducing Tumburu to the state of ashes.\n\n   [1] An actress and a dancer are in Sanskrit denoted by the\n   same word.\n\nSo as he stood, waiting, and smiling at his own thoughts, it happened\nthat that daughter of K\u00edrttisena, whose jealousy of the King's daughter\nhad caused all the trouble in the King's city, came according to her\ncustom flying towards the city wall. For every night she came to see\nwhether there was a new suitor. And whenever she discovered one, she had\nrecourse to a R\u00e1kshasa that was bound to her by obligations, who came as\nsoon as thought of, and swallowed that unhappy suitor whole[2]. And now\nfor some time, no new suitor had appeared. So as she came flying in the\nlikeness of a bat, she looked towards the city wall, expecting to find\nit empty. And she saw, instead, Aja, standing, leaning on his sword, and\nsmiling, on the very edge of the wall. And at the very first glance at\nhim, she was struck with stupor, and she fell that very moment so\nviolently in love with him[3] that she could hardly flap her wings, by\nreason of the fierce agitation of her heart. So she alighted on the\nwall, a little distance off, and remained watching him, hardly able to\nbreathe for emotion, in her own form[4], but surrounding herself with a\nveil of invisibility to escape his observation. And after a while, she\ndrew a long breath, and murmured to herself: Ha! this is a suitor\nindeed, very different from all the others; and rather than a mere\nmortal man, he resembles the son of Dewak\u00ed[5], with R\u00e1dh\u00e1 caressing him\nin the form of the moonlight that seems to cling affectionately to his\nglorious limbs. Ha! he looks like the tutelary deity of the city come to\ndefy me, bringing the god of love to his aid in the form of his own\nmarvellous and incomparable beauty. Aye! and I feel that I am defeated\nalready, before the battle has so much as begun. And then, all at once,\na spasm of rage shot through her heart, and she turned pale. And she\nexclaimed: Ah! but I am anticipated by this accursed King's daughter,\nwho will rob me of him, nay, has already done it, by her undeniable\nhateful beauty, and her priority of claim, Alas! alas! O why did I not\nsee him first, before her abominable loveliness had made an impression\non his heart? For he is very young, and it must be, open to the spell of\nbeauty, and artless, and sincere. Ha! And suddenly, she started up, as\nif an idea had rushed into her mind. And she stood for a moment,\nthinking. And then she exclaimed, with a gesture of resolution: Yes, I\nalso am beautiful. Now, then, I will efface her image from his heart,\nand replace it by my own. Now I will assault him, by all the power of my\ncharms[6], and we will see whether he will be proof against the glamour\nof a beauty such as mine, multiplied and magnified by magic sorcery and\nfierce determination. Aye! I will move heaven and earth to steal his\nheart from the King's daughter, and turn P\u00e1t\u00e1la[7] upside down, to make\nhim mine instead of hers. But if I fail? And again she turned deadly\npale. And after a while, a bitter smile curled over her lips. And she\nsaid: If, if I fail; no, but I will not fail. But if I fail, then, I\nwill take another way.\n\n   [2] This method of disposing of objectionable suitors is\n   unfortunately not available in Europe. A great swallowing\n   capacity is a feature of the species R\u00e1kshasa. The \"coming\n   as soon as thought of\" (_dhy\u00e1t\u00e1gata_) is the Indian\n   equivalent of \"rubbing the lamp\" in the Arabian Nights.\n\n   [3] _Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?_ Every\n   Oriental would side with Shakspeare in this matter: love,\n   in the East, is not love, unless it comes like a flash of\n   lightning.\n\n   [4] This might be either that of a woman or a snake, for\n   the N\u00e1gas, to whom she belonged, waver between the two. The\n   N\u00e1ga, it may be well to remind the reader, is a being\n   possessed of magic powers, especially that of _glamour_ or\n   _blearing the eye_, which appealed so powerfully to Spenser\n   and Sir Walter Scott.\n\n   [5] Krishna, whose colour, it is to be noted, is blue.\n\n   [6] In every sense of the word: _mohaj\u00e1lam\u00e1y\u00e1_ is stronger\n   than any English equivalent.\n\n   [7] The Underworld, the home of the snakes.\n\n\n\nII.\n\n\nSo as Aja stood upon the wall, looking out over the desert, suddenly all\nvanished from before his eyes. And he saw before him no city, and no\ndesert. But he found himself in a dusky wood, thick with tall\n_tam\u00e1la_[8] trees, and lit by a light that was neither that of the sun\nnor that of the moon. And all around him huge red poppies waved gently\nwithout a wind, mixed with great moon-lotuses, whose perfume went and\ncame by turns as it hung on the heavy air. And under the shadow of the\nblack leaved trees large bats flew here and there with slow and\nnoiseless flap, and on the branches monstrous owls with topaz eyes like\nwheels of flame sat motionless, as if to watch. And a dead silence like\nthat of space whence all three worlds have been removed left Aja nothing\nelse to hear but the beat of his own heart. And the hair rose up upon\nhis head with sheer amazement. And he said to himself: Ha! what new\nwonder is this, and what has become of the city wall? And where in the\nworld have I got to now, and how? Now let me be very wary, for the\ndanger is evidently coming near.\n\n   [8] A tree with very black bark and white blossoms, dear to\n   exotic poets, such as e.g. Jayadewa.\n\nAnd as he stood, grasping his sword, prepared, and looking quickly right\nand left, suddenly he saw a thing which rivetted his gaze to it, as if\nwith an iron nail.\n\nA little way off, among the poppies, was standing up like a lonely\ncolumn all that was left of one of the walls of a ruined temple, whose\nfallen pillars were lying scattered all around it, half concealed by\ncreeping leaves. And as he gazed intently at this upright fragment of a\nfallen wall, he saw upon it the image of a sculptured woman, which stood\nout so distinctly that he could not take his eyes from it. And after a\nwhile, he said to himself: Surely that can be no stone statue, but a\nreal woman of flesh and blood, actually leaning, who knows why, against\nthat bit of a broken wall. And he looked and looked, and after a while,\nfilled with irresistible curiosity, he went nearer, but very slowly, and\nas it were on his guard, to see.\n\nSo as he gazed, wonder and admiration gradually crept into his soul, and\nstole his recollection unaware. And he became wholly intent on the stone\nimage, and forgetful of his situation. And he ceased to wonder at\nfinding himself in the wood, so great was his new wonder at the beauty\nof the woman on the wall. And he said to himself: Surely he was a master\nartist, whoever he was, that made this woman out of stone, if stone\nindeed she be. For even now, near as I am, I can hardly believe she is\nmade of stone.\n\nAnd the more he looked, the more he marvelled. For she seemed in his\neyes like a frozen mass of lunar camphor, moulded into a female form,\nstanding cold and pure and still, alone by herself in that strange half\nlight, that hovered as it were irresolute between the natures of night\nand day. And she stood with her right hand on her hip, which jutted out\nto receive it like the curve of a breaking wave: and her bare right\nbreast stood out and shone like a great moonlit sea pearl, while the\nother was hiding behind the curling fold of the pale green garment that\nran around her, embracing her with clinging clasp like a winding wisp of\nemerald foam fondly wrapping the yielding waist of Wishnu's sea-born\nwife. And she was very tall, and shaped like Shr\u00ec, and she stood with\nher head a little bent, and her sightless eyes fixed as it were on empty\nspace, just as though she were listening for some expected sound. And\nas he continued to gaze at her, a wonder that was almost horror crept\ninto his mind. For her face was not like that of an image, but rather\nresembled a mask, or the face of a very beautiful woman, that very\nmoment dead. For the colour seemed as it were to have only just faded\nfrom her cheek, and the blood seemed only just before to have left her\npallid lips, and the sight was as it were hanging yet in her great long\nopen eyes, that were fixed on the distant sky. And he stood, gazing, as\nif the very sight of her had made of him another image like herself.\n\nAnd then, at last, he stepped forward. And he put out his left hand, and\ntouched her with his forefinger on the shoulder that was bare.\n\nAnd instantly, as if his touch had filled her with a flood of life, a\nshiver ran like quicksilver over her stony limbs. And as he started\nback, to watch, the colour came back into her face, and red blood rushed\ninto her lips, and deep blue suddenly filled her eyes. And the tresses\nof hair around her head turned all of a sudden a glossy black, that\nshone with a blue-green lustre, as if reflecting the grassy sheen of her\nwinding robe. And her bosom lifted slowly, and fell again with a deep\nsigh. And all at once, she abruptly altered her position, and her eyes\nfell straight on Aja, standing just before her. And she lifted up,\nfirst one eyebrow, and then the other, till they formed a perfect bow,\nfor they joined each other in the middle. And she uttered a faint cry,\nas if in joy, exclaiming: Ha! can it be, and is it thou? Or am I\ndreaming still?\n\n\n\nIII.\n\n\nAnd Aja stood, staring at her with stony gaze, like a mirror of her own\nsurprise. And he said to himself: Surely it is not she, but I myself,\nthat am the dreamer. For here since the sun rose last, I have escaped\nthe desert, and found this city without a man, and acquired a bride of\npeerless beauty: and now here is another, rising as it were from the\ndead, and seeming to expect me. And he continued standing silent, gazing\nat her, sword in hand. And after a while, she said: What! is my form,\nthen, so frightful as to rob thee of thy tongue? Or art thou going to\nuse that sword against me? Speak: but in the meanwhile, let me see,\nwhether I have lost the use of my limbs, as thou hast that of thy\ntongue, after so long a sleep. And she leaped from her little pedestal,\nand moved a little way here and there, waving her beautiful arms about:\nand after a while, she came back, and sat down just before him, on one\nof the fallen pillars that were lying about the ground. And all the\nwhile Aja watched her, as if fascinated by a serpent, saying within\nhimself: She moves like nothing I ever saw, save a panther or a gliding\nsnake[9]. And then, all at once, she again put up one eyebrow, and said\nto him with a smile: Must I, then, actually tell thee, that I am\nNatabhr\u00fakut\u00ed[10]? Then Aja said: O lady, it is obvious. For thy bent\nbrow would plant arrows even in the heart of the Great Ascetic. And she\nsaid again: O husband, is this thy welcome, after so long a separation?\n\n   [9] It is a wonderful thing to see a cobra move. Nothing\n   can describe it.\n\n   [10] That is, _the Beauty of the arched eyebrows_.\n   (Pronounce _Nat_- to rhyme with _but_.)\n\nAnd Aja bounded, as if bitten by a snake. And he exclaimed: Thy husband!\nWhat! Am I then thy husband also? Does thy whole sex want to get me for\na husband? But O thou beauty of bending brows, how can he be thy\nhusband, that never saw thee in his life before? And only this morning,\nI was still wifeless, and a day has not elapsed, since I became\nanother's husband. And he stopped short, again confounded at the effect\nof his own words. For hardly had they passed his lips, when Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed\nstarted up, swelling with rage and convulsed with fury, with eyes that\nblazed like fiery stars. And she exclaimed: Never! never! Never shall\nshe possess thee, nor any other than I myself. And then, like a flash of\nlightning, her rage vanished as quickly as it came. And she looked at\nhim with imploring eyes, and said: Slay me now, with thy long bright\nsword, and send me back to that nonentity out of which thou hast just\nrecalled me: but speak not of another woman in front of me. Alas! and am\nI all forgotten? And tears rolled from her great blue eyes, and fell\nlike suppliants at her feet.\n\nAnd Aja put up his left hand, and tugged at his hair in the extremity of\nhis amazement. And he said: O thou strange offended lady, I am utterly\nbewildered, and resemble one that has lost his way at midnight in a\nwood. And thy anger and thy grief are alike altogether incomprehensible.\nHow can I possibly have forgotten one, whom as I just now told thee, I\nnever saw in my life before? Then she said: Nay, not in this life, but\nthe last. For I was the wife of thy former birth.\n\nThen Aja laughed, and he said: O beauty, who remembers his former\nbirth? For like every other man, and like my ancestor the sun, I have\nrisen up into light out of the sea of dark oblivion, into which I must\nsink again at last. And then she looked at him with a deep sigh. And she\nsaid: Alas! This is a punishment indeed, and worse by far than all the\nrest, if after having endured so long the state of a stone upon a wall,\nI am again become a woman, only to find myself repudiated and all\nforgotten, by him, on whose account I suffered all. Listen, then, and I\nwill tell thee the story of thy former birth. It may be, that, in the\nhearing, some scattered reminiscences will be as it were awakened, to\nstir again in the dark lethargy of thy sleeping soul.\n\n\n\nIV.\n\n\nAnd then she began to speak. And as she spoke, she leaned forward, as\nshe sat upon the fallen pillar, and fastened her great eager eyes like\nmagnets on his own. And as Aja watched them, they played as it were upon\nhis heart. For their colour wavered and changed and faltered, shifting\never from hue to hue, turning golden and ruddy amber, and emerald-green\nand lotus-blue; and over her eyes her arching brows lifted and fell and\nplayed and flickered, fixing his troubled soul like nails, and\nrivetting his attention, till her singing voice sounded in his head like\na distant tune crooned in the ear of a sleepy man. And she waved slowly\nher long round arms, all the while she spoke. And she said: Far away,\nover the sea, lies thy own forgotten land, and presently I will tell\nthee, and even show thee, where it is. And there it was, in our former\nbirth, that thou and I were boy and girl. But thou wert the son of a\nmighty King, and I was only a Br\u00e1hmani, a poor man's daughter, and my\nfather was an old ascetic, far below thee in everything else, but caste.\nAnd I lived alone with my old father, in the very heart of a great\nforest, in a little hut of bark, over which the _m\u00e1lat\u00ed_ creeper grew so\nthick, that nothing was visible of that little hut, except its door. And\nthen one day I was seen by thee, standing still in that very door, with\nmy pitcher on my head: as thou wert passing through the wood to hunt\nupon thy horse. And that moment was like a sponge, that blotted from the\nmind of each everything but the other's image. And I made of thee my\ndeity, and forgot everything in the three great worlds, for thee alone.\nAnd thou, that day, didst clean forget thy hunting: or rather, the God\nof Love showed thee game of another kind[11], and from pursuing thou\ndidst fall to wooing a quarry that wished for nothing so much as to be\nthy prey. And we married each other that very day, which ah! thou hast\nall forgotten. What! dost thou not remember how I used to meet thee\nevery day in the little hut, when my father was away in the wood engaged\nin meditation? What! hast thou really all forgotten how it was thy\nsupreme delight to bring me garments and costly jewels, which I put on\nfor thy amusement, thy forest-queen of the little hut? Has thy memory\ncast away every vestige of reminiscence of thy old sweet love in the\nlittle hut? So then it happened that on a day we were together, blind\nand drunk with each other's presence, shut within the little hut like a\npair of bees in a nectared lotus. And I was standing like an idol,\ndressed like the queen of a _chakrawarti_[12], loaded with gold on\nwrists and feet, with great pearls wound about my neck; and thou wert\ncontemplating me, thy creature[13], with intoxication, and hard indeed\nit was to tell, which of us two was the idol, and which was the\ndevotee. And as we woke up from a kiss that lasted like infinity, lo! my\nfather stood before us. And he said slowly: Abandoned daughter, that\nhast forgot thy duty in thy passion for this King's son, become what\nthou hast represented, an idol[14] of stone on the wall of a ruined\ntemple far away: and thou, her guilty lover, fall again into another\nbirth, and be separated from thy guilty love. Then being besought by us,\nto fix some period to the curse, he said again: When ye two shall meet\nagain, and thy husband in his curiosity shall touch thee with his\nfinger, she shall regain her woman's state, and be as she was before.\nAnd now all this has come about, exactly as he said. And I have found\nthee once again, only to find alas! alas! that thou hast left thy heart\nbehind thee in that old delicious birth.\n\n   [11] In Sanskrit, hunting and wooing can be mixed up\n   together by plays on words.\n\n   [12] An emperor. Hindoo idols are dressed and undressed,\n   like dolls, by their officiating priests.\n\n   [13] She means, he was her Creator.\n\n   [14] The Hindoos have no word, because they have not the\n   idea, of an _idol_. They call it a _god_ or an _image_. Our\n   word _idol_ implies the antagonism to paganism involved in\n   Christianity, and no two books are more alike than S.\n   Augustine's _City of God_ and Ward's _Hindoo Mythology_.\n\n\n\nV.\n\n\nSo as he listened, Aja's soul was filled as it were with a mingled\nessence of wonder and irresolution and sheeny beauty and singing sound.\nFor the tone of her voice was like a lute, and before his eyes hovered a\npicture of waving arms and witching curves, out of which her dreamy\neyes, from which he could not take his own, seemed as it were to speak\nto him of love reproachful and old regret. And all at once, with a\nviolent effort, he roused himself as if from sleep with open eyes. And\nhe shifted his sword to the other hand, and passed his right across his\nbrow. And he said, in some confusion: O thou strange and sweet-tongued\nwoman, certain this much is, that I am filled by thee with emotion that\nI do not understand. And yet I know not what to think, or even say. For\neven apart from the promptings of a former birth, thy beauty and thy\nhaunting voice, which I seem as it were to have heard before, are quite\nsufficient to rouse emotion even in a stone, much more in a man of flesh\nand blood.\n\nThen she shook her head sadly, looking at him with glistening eyes; and\nshe said, with a smile of ineffable sweetness: Ah! this is as I thought,\nand the instinct of thy former birth is clouded over and effaced, by\nthy meeting with this other woman in the morning of this very day. Alas!\nhow small, how very small, the interval of space and time that divides\nthe paradise of joy from the dungeon of despair! For had this our\nreunion been sooner by only a single day, I should have caught thy heart\nbefore it had been occupied by this all too fortunate other woman, who\nnow holds it like a fortress, garrisoned by a prior claim. But what is\nthis priority of claim? Can she, who by thy own confession has known\nthee only a single day, dare to dispute priority with the darling of thy\nformer birth[15]? Wilt thou break thy faith with me, to keep thy faith\nwith her? Aye! and wilt thou, after all, gain so much by the exchange?\nIs she beautiful, then, this other woman? But I am beautiful, too? And\nshe stood up, and looked at Aja with her head thrown back and proud\neyes, as though to challenge his condemnation of her own consummate\nbeauty. And she said again: Is she, then, this other beauty, either\nmore faithful or more beautiful than I am? Speak, and tell me if thou\ncanst, in what I am inferior, or why I am to be despised, in comparison\nwith her.\n\n   [15] Though, in Europe, this insidious appeal might lack\n   force, it is otherwise in India: whose millions doubt their\n   former birth no more than they doubt their own existence.\n   It is not long since a woman in Cutch burned herself with\n   her own dead son, because, she averred, he had been her\n   husband in her former birth.\n\nAnd Aja looked at her again, and felt abashed, and half ashamed, he knew\nnot why. And he murmured to himself: She does not lie: for beautiful she\nis indeed, and need not fear comparison with any woman in the world. And\nit may be, she is partly right, and if I had met her yesterday, before\nmy heart was full, she would have had little difficulty in entering in\nand capturing it, almost without resistance. And he stood looking at her\nsilently, uncertain what to say or do, and half inclined to pity her,\nand half afraid of her and of himself, admiring her against his will,\nand as it were confessing by his very silence the power of her appeal.\nFor notwithstanding the preoccupation of his heart, his youth and his\nsex became as it were allies with her against his resolution, compelling\nhim to acknowledge the supremacy of the cunning god, and the spell of\nfeminine attraction incarnate in her form.\n\nAnd she stood there before him, for a little, with beauty as it were\nheightened by resentful reproach of the slighting of itself, and the\ndisregard of its tried affection. And then all at once she sank down\nupon the ground, as if she were tired, and remained sitting among the\npoppies, with her chin resting on her left knee, which she embraced with\nher arms, watching him, and as it were, waiting with humility and\npatience for a decision in her case. And every now and then, she closed\nher eyes, and opened them again, as if to make sure that he was there.\n\nAnd Aja looked round in the silence, at the poppies and the lotuses, and\nthe great owls that seemed to watch him, and back again at her. And his\nhead began to whirl, and he muttered to himself: Is this a dream, and\nwhat does it all mean? And is she returning to the condition of an\nimage, disgusted by my coldness and disdain? And what is to be done? And\nhe looked at her face, deprived, by the closing of their lids, of the\nmoon of her eyes, and resting like a mask upon its chin. And he said\nwithin himself: Her eyebrows move, as if they were alive. And he felt as\nit were unable to look away from them: and at last, annoyed with\nhimself, he closed his eyes also as though to escape their persecution.\n\n\n\nVI.\n\n\nAnd then, he said to himself: This is cowardice, and after all, no\nrefuge; for I seem to see her still, through the shutters of my lids.\nAnd he opened his eyes once more. And instantly, he leaped from the\nground like a wounded stag, with a cry. For the wood, with all its\nlotuses and poppies, was gone. And in its place, he saw before him a\nforest with its great green trees all lit by the shining of the sun. And\njust in front of him there stood a little hut, buried in the blossom of\nthe _m\u00e1lat\u00ed_ creeper. And in its doorway was standing a young Brahman\nwoman, with a pitcher on her head. And she beckoned to him with a smile,\nand he looked, and lo! it was Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed. Then moved as if against his\nwill, on feet that carried him towards her as it were of their own\naccord, he approached her. And as he drew nearer, there came from that\ncreeper a wave of perfume, resembling that of jasmine, but sweeter, and\nso pungent that it entered like fire into his soul. And then she lifted\nthe pitcher from her head, and set it down upon the ground, and caught\nhim by the hand, and drew him within the hut. And there she cast herself\ninto his arms, whispering in his ear, very low, so as to caress it as\nshe spoke with her lips: My father is away, and now we are alone, and\nthe day is all before us. Come now, what shall I do for thy delight?\nAnd she ran and shut the door; and then, taking from a chest rich\nclothes and splendid jewels, she began to put them on, saying as she did\nso: See! am I becoming more fit to be thy queen? And he watched her,\nstupefied, like one in a dream, and all the while she bathed him with\nintoxicating side glances shot like arrows from the bow of her arching\nbrows. And at last, she came slowly towards him, walking on tiptoe, and\nattitudinising, placing herself exactly in the posture in which he had\nseen her first among the poppies on the wall, with one hand on her hip.\nAnd she said, lifting her brow, with a smile that stole his reason: Now,\nthen, the idol is ready for the devotee. And at that moment the door\nopened, and an old Brahman entered through it. And he said slowly:\nAbandoned daughter, that hast forgot thy duty in thy passion for this\nKing's son, become what thou hast represented, an idol of stone on the\nwall of a ruined temple far away; and thou her guilty lover, fall into\nanother birth, and be separated from thy guilty love.\n\nAnd then, Aja heard no more. The world whirled around him; the blackness\nof night closed over his soul; he uttered a terrible cry, and fell to\nthe ground in a swoon.\n\n\n\nVII.\n\n\nAnd when he came to himself, he was back again among the poppies in the\n_tam\u00e1la_ wood. And he was lying on the ground, with Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed bending\nover him, holding him by the hand, with anxiety in her eyes. And\ninstantly he started up, and seizing his sword, stood gazing at her with\nstupefaction. And he said to himself: Am I dead or dreaming? And what\ndoes it all mean? Is it a delusion of the Creator, or a mirage and a\nmadness of the desert, out of which I have never yet escaped at all?\nAye! beyond a doubt, I am wandering still in the waste of sand, raving\nmad, and dying; and haunted by phantoms that are the premonitors of\napproaching death.\n\nSo as he stood, balanced in the swing of perplexity, and doubting his\nown reason, Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed looked at him fixedly, with concern and\naffection and curiosity in her eyes. And she said: Surely thou art ill.\nAnd why then dost thou shrink from me, as though I were a thing of\nterror: I, who ask for nothing but to tend thee all my life? For it was\nbut now, as we spoke together in this wood, I looked up and saw thee\nsuddenly close thy eyes. And as I watched thee, wondering to see thee\nsleeping as it were erect, there burst from thy lips a fearful cry, and\nI had but time to catch thee falling, and let thee sink upon the ground.\nAnd I brought thee to thyself, by fanning thee, as well as I might, with\nthis great leaf.\n\nAnd she held it up before him, while he continued to gaze at her in\nsilence. And as he did not speak, she looked at him curiously, and\nmuttered under her breath, as though speaking to herself, and not\nintending him to hear: Can he have suddenly recollected his former\nbirth, and is this the reason why he is staring at me, as if wishing to\ncompare me with a picture in his head? And as he still kept silence,\npresently she said aloud: Dear, thou art sick: and much in need of\nmedicines, such as I alone can give thee. Why wilt thou not confide in\nme? For I am a cunning leech, and know the virtue of every herb and\nevery vegetable drug better than Dhanwantari[16] himself. And I have\nmade myself mistress of every species of the art of healing, and in\nparticular, I have fed myself on perfumes, and on the essences of\nflowers, and all the scented odours of aromatic shrubs, till I have\nmyself become as it were a very attar, incarnate in a woman's form. Dost\nthou doubt it, and think me to be boasting? then try me, and I will\nprove to thee my power by experiment, in any way thou wilt I will soothe\nand shampoo[17] thee with a hand softer than a snowflake's fall and\ncooler than the icy moon: or, if thou wilt, I will croon to thee old\nairs, and put thee to sleep like a tired child, resting thy head on this\nbosom which once was thy delight, with melodies that shall speak to thee\nof drowzy bees and moaning winds: or I will steal thy waking senses from\nthee and lure them into slumber as it were against thy will by snaring\nthem with fragrances more luscious than that _p\u00e1rij\u00e1ta_ blossom, which\nWishnu once trailed through the intoxicated world, to drive it into\nmadness at the moment, and leave it filled with inconsolable regret when\nit was gone. See, take this, and smell it, and thou wilt be better even\nnow.\n\n   [16] The physician of the gods, the Hindoo Aesculapius.\n\n   [17] The _Samw\u00e1hanam_ is one of those old Hindoo medical\n   resources which we have only recently been wise enough to\n   copy.\n\nAnd she held out towards him, in the lotus of her hand, a tiny flower,\nin colour like an atom of the concentrated essence of the sky. And as\nAja looked at it, there came from it a stream of a sharp and biting\nscent, that rushed into his soul, coming laden as it were with\nreminiscence and suggestions of the past; so that he said to himself:\nHa! of what does this remind me, and where is it that I smelled its\nalmost intolerable sweet before? And suddenly, the little hut rushed\ninto his mind, and he exclaimed: It is the very smell of the creeper on\nits roof. And instantly, a feeling of amazement that almost overcame\nhim, mingled with terror, crept like a shudder over his limbs, and his\nhair stood on end. And he looked at Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed, who was watching him\nintently, and said, hoarsely: Who art thou, thou strange beauty, and\nwhat dost thou want of me? And what is the meaning of these inexplicable\nmysteries, before which I feel as if my reason were deserting me, and I\nwere about to faint again?\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\n\nThen she laughed, and said: Fair boy, I am only that bitter-sweet[18], a\nwoman: and I want no more than what every woman wants, the man she\nloves, and that is thou. Aye! dost thou ask me, who and what I am?\nListen then, and I will tell thee. I am a bee, which not like other\nbees, roams roving to flower after flower, but confines itself\nexclusively to one. I am a breeze, which not like other breezes blows\nfickle and inconstant now hither and now thither, but is fixed and ever\nsteady, coming straight from Malaya laden with the sandal of affection\nto lay it at thy feet. I am only the echo of a voice which is thyself,\nthe shadow of a substance and the reflection of a sun. I am like the\nother half of the god that carries the moon upon his head, the twin, the\nduplicate and counterpart of a deity who is thou, I am Rati, rejoicing\nto find again the body of her husband, and thou art Love himself\nreturned to life whom I have found. I am an essence of the ocean, but\nunlike it, I hold within my heart not many pearls, but only one, which\nis thyself. I am a wick, consuming in thy flame, and like the music of a\nlute, I am a thing wholly compounded of melodies and tones, whose mood\nand being are dependent on the player, who is thou. Art thou sad? then I\nam also: art thou joyous? so am I: my soul is tossed about, and hangs on\nthy smiling or thy sighing, as a criminal depends on the sentence of the\njudge. And like a crystal, I am colourless[19] without thee, but ready\non the instant to assume every tinge of the colour of thyself. Cast thy\neyes upon me, and thou shalt see as in a glass thy every mood painted\non the surface of my face. Ah! dost thou ask me what I am? Alas! I am a\ntarget for the poisoned arrows which Love shoots at me in the form of\nthy beauty greater than his own. And I am like a bare and withered,\nleafless and frost-bitten tree, which has suddenly shot up into blossom\nat the coming of spring in thy form. But as for thee, why, O why dost\nthou regard me that live for only thee as if I were a deadly snake, and\nthou a startled deer? In vain, in vain, dost thou endeavour to repel me,\nfor I will not be repelled. I will melt thy cold ice in thy despite, by\nthe fire of my affection, and drown thee in its flood, and sweep thee\naway from the rocks of thy resistance till thou art lost for ever in its\ndark and pearly depths.\n\n   [18] _Wish\u00e1mritam_: lit. poison-nectar.\n\n   [19] Also means _without affection_.\n\nAnd as Aja stood, listening in confusion to her words, which poured from\nher like a torrent, suddenly she clapped her hands, and exclaimed, as he\nstarted again at her vehemence: Ha! shall I tell thee, thou wilful and\nreluctant boy, of what thou dost remind me, standing as it were aghast,\nand obstinately set against me, mute, and yet asking what I am? Know,\nthat long ago there was a King, who had for wives a thousand queens. And\nit happened that one day, he went with his wives to ramble in the heart\nof a forest. So after sporting for a while, he grew tired, in the heat\nof the day, and lay down and fell asleep. Then all his queens stole away\nand left him lying, and went roaming up and down, very strange creatures\nin that wild rough wood, looking like living flowers of every hue and\nkind, that had somehow or other got free from their roots, a body of\ndeer-eyed decoys let loose by Love the Hunter, to lure into his toils\nevery man that should behold them. So as they rambled here and there,\nthey came suddenly on an old ascetic. And he was standing still, half\nburied in the hills of ants, themselves covered over by his long white\nhair, immersed in meditation. Then all those fair women went up and\nstood around him in a cluster of beautiful curiosity, wondering at the\nsight of him, and asking each other in amazement, what in the world he\ncould possibly be. So as they crowded round him, that old ascetic\nemerged from his trance, and as thou art doing, stood silent and aghast,\nthinking, as perhaps thou dost thyself, that Indra must have sent him\nall the nymphs of heaven in a body, to lure him from the path of\nliberation. For, O, thou beautiful suspicious youth, what is there so\nterrible about me, as to cause thee to shrink from my approach? Know,\nthat many would be glad to be wooed as was that old ascetic, and as thou\nart now.\n\n\n\nIX.\n\n\nAnd then, Aja strove to awake as it were from a dream. And he shook\nhimself, as if to shake it off, and he said to himself: I feel that I am\nfalling as it were a victim to the spell of this passionate and subtle\nbeauty; and now, unless I stiffen and steel myself against her, I shall\nundoubtedly be bewitched and beguiled beyond the possibility of escape.\nAnd he summoned his resolution, and said, with a semblance of composure:\nFair one, thou dost thyself no injustice in comparing thyself alone to a\nthousand queens: for thou art a very incarnation of all the bewildering\nfascination of thy sex. And yet, potent as they are, thy charms are\nwasted, and resemble blunted arrows when directed against me. For as I\nhave already told thee, I am pledged to another, and proof against thy\nspell, as doubtless was thy old ascetic against that bevy of straying\nqueens.\n\nAnd then Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed smiled, and she shook at him her finger, as she\nanswered: Rash boy, beware: Be not too sure of the adamantine quality of\nthy resistance, nor even of thy wisdom in resisting me at all. And\nbeware of provoking the indignation of slighted Love, who may make of\nthee a signal example of his vengeance. Take care, lest annoyed with thy\nobstinacy in rejecting what he offers thee for nothing, he should\ndeprive thee even of that other beauty on whose account alone it is that\nI am held by thee so cheap. Poor youth! but that my lips are tied, I\ncould enlighten thee. Art thou, who art so ready lightly to disdain me,\nart thou, I say, so sure, so very sure, that thou art thyself the only\nlover of this much married beauty, whom thou sawest, as thou sayest, for\nthe very first time in thy life to-day? Art thou so sure, so very sure,\nthat she is not deceiving thee, and that thou art not merely the last of\nthe many lovers whom she toys with for a moment, and then carelessly\ncasts away? Art thou so very certain that thou hast never had a\npredecessor? And Aja started, in spite of himself. For the word recalled\nto him the manner of the old King. And Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed saw it. And she\nlooked at him as it were with compassion, and said: Alas! unhappy boy:\nthou seest that in thy youth and inexperience such an idea had not\noccurred to thee. Little art thou qualified to cope with a woman's\nguile.\n\nThen said Aja fiercely, in wrath both with himself and her: It is false,\nand she is true. But Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed answered very gently: Be not angry,\nfor I do not question that she loves thee. I do not even doubt it: for\nif she did not, she would be a fool. But listen, and learn, what thou\ndost not seem to know, that Love is a Master Knave; aye! by far the\ngreatest master of deceit in the three great worlds. And woman is his\naptest pupil, and every woman living, were she even as simple as\nthyself, becomes, as soon as she falls under the influence of Love, a\nvery incarnation of policy and craft and wiles. I tell thee, foolish\nboy, that she that loves in earnest, were she good as gold, pure as\nsnow, and flawless as a diamond, would plunge, to gain her object, to\nthe very lowest bottom of the ocean of deceit. And what is her object\nbut the esteem of her lover? Dost thou think, she would balance for an\ninstant, between her lover, and the ruin of the world? between his good\nopinion, and a lie? Dost thou think, she would forfeit thy esteem, when\nto deceive thee would preserve it? I tell thee, in such a dilemma, she\nwould lie, till the very sun at noon hid his face out of shame.\nKnow[20], that long ago there lived at W\u00e1r\u00e1nas\u00ed[21] an independent\nlady, of beauty so extraordinary, that swarms of lovers use to buzz\ncontinually about her like great black bees about the mango blossom in\nthe spring. But independent though she was, she was so fastidious, that\nnone of her innumerable lovers ever touched her heart even for a moment.\nAnd hence she lived like a lamp at midnight surrounded by the corpses of\nher victims, who fluttered about her lustre and perished in its flame.\nAnd then at last, one day it came about that a tall young Rajpoot almost\nas beautiful as thou art arrived at W\u00e1r\u00e1nas\u00ed. And Kash\u00e1yin\u00ed[22] (for\nthat was her name) saw him from a window as he came into the city; and\ninstantly like an empty pitcher suddenly plunged into the Ganges, she\nwas filled to the very brim by the inrush of Love's sacred nectar. And\nshe said to herself: The very first thing that he will hear of in the\ncity is myself. And like everybody else, he will come immediately to see\nme: and that very moment, I shall abandon the body out of shame. For\nthough my beauty might attract him, yet he will be convinced that many\nlovers have preceded him, and therefore, at the bottom of his heart he\nwill despise me. And this would be worse than any death. And yet without\nhim, my birth will have been in vain. Therefore, I must devise some\nexpedient. So after a while, she went out in disguise, and bought for a\nlarge sum of money the body of a woman of her own age and size who had\ndied that very day. And bringing that body home secretly at night, she\ndressed it in her own clothes, and burned it till its identity was\nobliterated. And then she set fire to her house, and left it by a back\ndoor, and went away, abandoning all her wealth but the jewels that she\nwore, for the sake of her picture in the air[23]. And at that very\nmoment, the Rajpoot came along, led by some of the townspeople to visit\nher, as it were set on fire by the very description of her beauty. And\nhe looked and saw the flames bursting from her house, as though lit by\nhimself. And they found the half burned body in the ashes, and\nimmediately all the lovers of Kash\u00e1yin\u00ed followed her through the fire of\ngrief to the other world. But the Rajpoot managed, in spite of\ndisappointment, to remain alive. And she, in the meantime, having given\neveryone the slip, found a false ascetic, and bribed him with jewels,\ngiving him instructions without letting him know who she was. So that\nascetic went and struck up acquaintance with the Rajpoot, pretending to\nbe a discoverer of treasure[24]. And he performed incantations, and\nafter awhile he said to him: Go quickly to Ujjayini; and dig in the\nnorth-east corner of the burning ground outside the city on the very\nlast day of the dark half of the month of Magha, and thou shalt find a\ntreasure. Take it, for what is the use of treasure to such a one as me?\nThereupon the Rajpoot, having nothing else to do, went. And Kash\u00e1yin\u00ed,\nhaving first made sure that the bait had taken, went herself and got\nthere before him. So when that Rajpoot arrived, he dug exactly as he was\ntold, and found absolutely nothing. And cursing his destiny, he went out\nof the burning ground in the early morning: and as he went along,\nsuddenly he saw Kash\u00e1yin\u00ed, who was waiting for him, sitting weeping by\nthe wayside, under a great _ashwattha_ tree: beautifully dressed,\nblazing with jewels, and adorned with saffron and antimony, betel,\nindigo, and spangles, flowers, minium, and henna, bangles on ancle and\ncomb in her hair. And she said to that Rajpoot, who was as utterly\nastounded by the sight of her as if she had been water in the desert: O\nson of a king, succour one who is utterly without resource. And when he\nasked her, what was the matter, she said: I was the only wife of a very\nrich merchant, and as we travelled from the South, suddenly we were set\nupon by a band of Thags. And after killing every one but me[25], they\nall went to sleep, thinking me secure; but in the middle of the night, I\nwent a little way, and hid myself in a hollow tree. And in the morning,\nthose villains, after hunting for me in vain, all went away, fearing a\npursuit, and I came out of the tree trembling, and reached this road,\nand now I am alone in the world. Then said the Rajpoot to himself: Ha!\nso, after all, I have found my treasure, and that excellent ascetic was\na true prophet. And he said: O lady, I am of good family. And now, if\nthou wilt have me for a husband, I will supply the loss of thy merchant,\nand all the rest of thy relations. And she feigned reluctance: but after\na while, she dried her tears, and consented. But that Rajpoot almost\nwent out of his mind, so great was his delight. And one day he told her\nof W\u00e1r\u00e1nas\u00ed, and the burning of Kash\u00e1yin\u00ed. And she looked at him with\nlaughing eyes, and said: O my husband, I will make up to thee for the\nloss of Kash\u00e1yin\u00ed: for I am just as beautiful as she.\n\n   [20] In all Oriental stories, statements are proved not by\n   Aristotelian syllogism, but by \"instances:\" and we are\n   reminded of the opinion of the artful Retz, that \"_one\n   never persuades anybody, but anybody can insinuate\n   anything._\"\n\n   [21] Ben\u00e1res. The lady in question was one of those Hindoo\n   Aspasias of whom many similar stories are told.\n\n   [22] Which we might translate Aromatic: it includes the\n   ideas of _red colour_ and _pungent perfume_.\n\n   [23] Or, as we say, castle in the air.\n\n   [24] A regular trade in medieval India.\n\n   [25] Everything in this story is exactly in harmony with\n   the manners of medieval India. The Thags often preserved a\n   woman for her beauty, when they murdered every one else.\n\n\n\nX.\n\n\nAnd as Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed ended, she leaned forward, and gazed at Aja with\nsoft seductive eyes, till he blushed, and wavered before her like the\nflame of a candle in a wind. For her beauty bewildered him, and her\ncunning story planted, as if against his will, a seed of suspicion in\nhis mind. And in spite of himself, he said to himself: What if it were\nas she says, and my wife, like another Kash\u00e1yin\u00ed, were concealing from\nme something that she shrank from avowing, lest I should think the worse\nof her. And he turned pale at the thought, that any other lover should,\neven a very little, have occupied her heart before him. And he stood\nsilent, and confused, striving to expel from his mind the doubt that\nNatabhr\u00fakut\u00ed had raised in it, saying to himself: Can I really be only\nthe last of many lovers? And all the while, Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed watched him,\ndevouring him as it were with her eyes. And at last, she said again:\nSweet boy, thou art too young and too honest to cope with women, who\nwere framed by the Creator to deceive. But Aja said angrily: Thou art\nthyself a woman, seeking at this very moment to deceive me: and as for\nthy age, it is less than my own. And she said: Nay, nay: I am older, for\nI am wiser than thyself. For when I see my husband, I remember him, but\nme thou hast utterly forgotten, thy true and only wife. Ah! foolish one,\nthou hast forgotten. And thou resemblest one, who casts away a costly\njewel, for the sake of a bit of glass, shining only in the sunlight of\nthy ignorance, and trodden by the foot of every passing stranger. What!\ncan I do nothing to rouse thy recollection? Look at me well! look hard,\nand it may be, something of me will touch as it were a chord in thy\nsoul.\n\nAnd she came up close to him, so that the warmth and fragrance of her\nbeauty enveloped him like an atmosphere of intoxication. And she joined\nher hands, looking up into his face, as it were compelling his reluctant\nadmiration by her humble submission to his will. And she said: Hast\nthou, hast thou indeed forgotten all? And as he gazed at her, two huge\ndrops of crystal welled into her eyes, and hung poised before they fell\non the net of her long dark lashes. And she said: Thou sayest, I am\nseeking to deceive thee. I love thee, and where is the deception? Is it\nnot rather thou that art the deceiver in this matter? Is it any fault\nof mine if another has stepped in to defraud me of thyself? Or am I to\nbe blamed, if thy beauty still beguiles me as it did long ago? And yet,\ndost thou accuse me as if I were a criminal? O blue black bee, what is\nthis behaviour, that thou seekest as it were to pick a quarrel with the\npoor red lotus who loves thee but too well? And she smiled through her\ntears, and exclaimed: Ah I but in spite of thee, I will adore thee,\nwhether thou wilt or no. Ha! and I will compel thee to remember, and\nforce my way through every barrier and obstacle till I reach the\nrecollection[26] in the bottom of thy heart. O canst thou not remember\nthe days of long ago, when my now despis\u00e8d beauty was a joy to thee, and\nmy hair a very net to snare thy willing soul, and my eyes were more to\nthee than any diamonds, and these two arms were thy prison and thy\nchain, and this agitated bosom was thy pillow on which I lulled thee to\nslumber with the music of this very voice. Hast thou really forgotten\nthe nectar of my kiss? hast thou actually forgotten thy own insatiable\nthirst? Ah! but if thou hast forgotten, I have not; and the innumerable\nmultitudes of thy too delicious kisses come back to me, singing in my\nmemory, and whispering in my soul like the lisping of the sea. Hark!\nDost thou not hear them also, those voices of a former birth?\n\n   [26] The reader should remember that in Sanskrit, _love_\n   and _recollection_ are the same word.\n\n\n\nXI.\n\n\nAnd as Aja gazed at her, stunned and almost overcome by the pathos of\nher irresistible appeal, and as it were swept from his feet by the surge\nof her passion, suddenly she seized his left hand with her right, and\nstood, grasping it as if convulsively, with the other hand raised, and\nbending her head as if to listen. And he listened, and lo! there sounded\nin his ears a murmur resembling that of the sea, mixed with faint\nstrains of music, and echoes of indistinguishable singing voices coming\nas it were from the ends of the earth. And a shudder ran through him, as\nshe turned, and looked at him as if in ecstasy, with eyes that saw\nnothing, murmuring in an eager voice that chanted and charmed his ear\nlike the rushing of a stream: Dost thou hear the voices, calling thee\nover to the other shore? For the sea is the sea of separation, and the\nother shore is our former birth. Far away over the setting sun hides\nthe red land[27] of our old sweet love. And I can take thee back to it,\nout of this dim and dingy wood. Only I can carry thee back to the land\nbeyond the sunset hill, where love is lying dead. Over the sea where\nmonsters lurk, and great pearls grow in sunless deeps, I can carry thee\nback again to the land of long ago. Never a ship with a silken sail\ncould rock thee over across the waves so well as I will waft thee there\non the swell of this soft breast. Never a breeze from the sandal hill\ncould ferry thee over a silent sea so gently as will I, by breathing\ninto thy raptured ear tales of thy old forgotten past with fond and\nfragrant lips. What! art thou still oblivious of that old delicious\nbirth? Dost thou never behold in dreams the paradise of our little hut,\nand slake again thy raging thirst in a long forbidden kiss? Does she\nnever come back to thee, the Br\u00e1hmani girl with a face like mine, with\nlips that laughed and eyes that shone, and a mango flower in her hair?\nSay, dost thou never dream of her? And she shook his arm with frenzy,\nand exclaimed: Ha! wake from thy magic sleep, and tear away the curtain\nthat hides me from thy blinded soul. I will, I will awake thee. I will\nnot be forgotten. And all at once, she burst into a passion of tears.\nAnd she reeled, as though about to fall, and tottered, and threw\nherself, sobbing hard, against his breast.\n\n   [27] The Sanskrit _dw\u00edpa_ has exactly the same connotation\n   as our islands of the Blest, and like them it is placed in\n   the setting sun.\n\nAnd while she spoke, Aja stood, like one pushed to the very edge of a\nprecipice, pale as death, and breathing hard, spellbound. And then at\nlast, when she threw herself upon his breast, again a shudder ran\nthrough all his limbs. And as if her touch had shattered to pieces the\nlast fragment of his resolution, he caught her around the waist with the\none arm that was free. And with tears in his own eyes, he stammered, as\nif in the extremity of desperation, hardly knowing what he said: Alas! I\nhave been harsh to thee. O lovely browed beauty, cease to weep. Why, O\nwhy, did I not meet thee sooner by only a single day?\n\n\n\nXII.\n\n\nAnd at that very moment, he heard behind him a deep sigh. And as he\nturned, wood, poppies, and all vanished from before his eyes. Once more\nhe stood on the city wall; and there before him was the King's\ndaughter. And she was standing in the doorway, through which he had come\nupon the wall, leaning against the open door, and paler than Love's own\nashes, while her great dark eyes were frozen as it were to ice, and yet\nlit up by the triple fire of sorrow and reproach and fierce disdain. And\nshe looked like the daughter of Janaka, when forsaken by the lord of the\nrace of Raghu, and like the heavenly Urwashi, when abandoned by\nPururawas, a very spirit of despair carved by the Creator into a stony\nfemale form, to break the heart of the three worlds. And as if the very\nsight of her had broken the spell that held him, reason and recollection\nsuddenly returned to Aja, as it were at a single bound. And he woke, as\nif from a magic sleep, and on the instant, a sword ran as it were\nstraight into his heart. And with a cry, he flung away his sobbing\nburden like a blade of grass, not caring where it fell: and ran towards\nthe King's daughter. But she, when she saw him coming, shrieked, and\nstarted, and exclaimed: Away! Touch me not, save with the point of thy\nsharp true sword, to pierce me through the body as thy perfidy has my\nsoul.\n\nThen Aja tossed away his sword, with a shudder, over the edge of the\nwall. And he seized himself by the head with both hands, with a groan\nlike the roar of a wounded lion. And he exclaimed: Ha! Better now it had\nbeen indeed, had I never emerged from the waste of sand. And he turned\nfiercely upon Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed, saying: This is thy doing, thou vile\nenchantress: and now I am indeed awake.\n\nBut even as he spoke, the words died away upon his lips; and he stood\nstill, like a picture on a wall, for wonder at what he saw before him.\nFor Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed was standing still, exactly where he left her, bolt\nupright, like a spear fixed in the earth. And her beauty was greater\nthan ever, and yet such, that as he saw it, his heart stopped in his\nbreast. For every vestige of the nectar of her love-emotion had left\nher, and in its place, the poison of immortal hate shone in her cold and\nevil eyes, which were fastened, as if with a mixture of pain and\npleasure, with a glittering and fiendish stare, upon the King's\ndaughter. And as he watched them, cold ran in Aja's veins. For her eyes\nshook, and changed colour, and a horrible smile played on her blue and\ntwitching lips. And she looked thin, for her two arms hung down tight\nagainst her sides, and her fingers opened and shut, slowly, as if of\ntheir own accord.\n\nAnd after a while, she spoke. And she turned to Aja, and said, in a\nvoice that resembled a hiss: Fool! thou wouldst not take the blue flower\nI offered thee, though its fragrance could not have been matched by\nanything in the three worlds. Now, then, I will take another way. So as\nhe watched her, she was gone: and he saw before him nothing but the\nempty city wall.\n\nAnd as he looked again, not crediting the testimony of his own eyes, he\nheard a sharp cry from the King's daughter. And he turned, and saw\nYashowat\u00ed sinking to the ground. And at that very moment Natabhr\u00fakut\u00ed\nstood again before him. And she looked at him with strange eyes, and\nsaid slowly: Go now, and enjoy thy wife. But I must give thee just one\nkiss, before I go.\n\nAnd as Aja looked into her eyes, suddenly, like a flash of lightning, he\nunderstood. And he struck his hand upon his brow, exclaiming: Ha! Now,\nnow, I understand, too late. Thou art that very she, that was jealous of\nthe King's daughter's beauty, and ruined her out of spite. And I have\nbeen befooled by thee, and failed to stand the test. And he ground his\nteeth with rage, that swept through him like a storm. And he said to\nhimself: Alas! I threw away my sword. No matter. Now, then, as she said\nherself, I will take another way.\n\nAnd he looked at her, as she stood waiting. And he held out his arms,\nsaying: Come, then. And as she put her face close to his own, he caught\nher by her slender throat, with both hands, in a grip like that of\ndeath.\n\nAnd then lo! she was gone again. But in her place, he held in his grasp\na huge yellow snake, which struck him, as he clutched it hard, once and\ntwice, upon the lips.\n\n\n\n\nA Fatal Kiss.\n\n\nAnd then, little by little, the night gradually came to an end. And the\nsun rose up, out of his home in the eastern mountain, and began rapidly\nto climb into the sky.\n\nAnd all at once, there arose a great hubbub, and an outcry in the King's\npalace. And the women ran hither and thither, wailing and screaming and\ncrying out: Haha! haha! the daughter of the King is gone. And they\nhunted in all directions, but could not find her anywhere: and they went\nand told the King. But he, when he heard it, came running just as he was\nin his night clothes, and hurried about with all the women, looking into\nevery corner, and finding nothing. So after turning the palace upside\ndown, he stopped short. And he said: What if she should have followed\nher lover up on to the city wall, and shared his fate! For beyond a\ndoubt, like all his predecessors, he has vanished never to return.\n\nThen they all went up the winding stair, the King going first. And he\nstepped out on to the wall. And instantly, with a piercing cry, he fell\nto the ground in a mortal swoon.\n\nThen terror seized on all those women, and they stood exactly where they\nwere, looking at each other with pale faces, not daring to advance. But\nat last, after a long while, supporting each the other, they pushed\nforward and looked out. And they saw the King's body, lying on that of\nhis daughter; and a little further off, Aja, lying upon his face.\n\nThen they went out, and took up those three bodies, and carried them in,\nand examined them. And after a while, they said: Doubtless the heart of\nthe old King broke, when he saw his daughter lying dead. But as for the\nother two, one snake has evidently bitten both. And yet, this is a\nwonderful thing. For she has been bitten on the foot, but her lover upon\nthe lips. What then? Was he trying to kiss the snake, that it should\nbite him upon the lips? For how could even the biggest snake reach up so\nhigh, as this great Rajpoot's mouth?","title":"An Essence of the Dusk, 5th Edition","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":20331}