A Mine of Faults

II

But in the meanwhile, Chand went through the trees, towards the arbour. And he said to himself: Is it a snare? Or can King Mitra be intending to break his own safe-conduct? But in any case, I cannot exhibit any fear, or even suspicion. For what this old man says, is plausible, and may, possibly, be, after all, the truth: and then, I should be utterly ashamed.

And then he came to the arbour, and saw, in the wall towards him, a door. And as he looked carefully about, he saw, that the arbour stood exactly on the edge of the cliff, having only three walls, and being absolutely without a wall on the side that ran along the cliff, looking down into the gorge. And he paused, before he entered, saying to himself: Ha! From this arbour, as it seems, it would not be difficult even to fall, without intending it. And now, a man might also very easily be thrown from it, down into that dizzy gulf below. And therefore, it becomes me to be very wary, and on my guard.

And then, he went up, and entered, cautiously, the door. And no sooner had he set his foot upon the marble floor within, than he started, and stood still, saying to himself: Ha! there is a woman in the arbour. And now, I see, that it is exactly as I thought, a snare, though not of the kind that I anticipated. And as my ministers said, this Yogeshwara has led me straight into a trap, with a woman for a bait. For as he looked, he saw, at the far end of the arbour, what seemed to be a woman, kneeling on the floor, with her back towards him, and bending over a great basket that resembled an enormous yellow gourd, filled with flowers to the brim. And the whole floor was strewn all over with flowers of every kind and colour, lying everywhere in heaps.

And at the very moment that his foot on entering touched the floor, as if roused by the sound of its tread, she turned her head as she kneeled, and looked round, and saw him. And instantly she sprang like a flash of lightning to her feet, with a shrill cry. And she bounded like a deer to the precipice, and stood, facing him, balanced on its extreme verge, with both hands full of flowers, and both eyes opened wide, like circles, filled to the very brim with blue dismay, and her two brows lifted to her hair with utter amazement, and terror as it were written on every line of her body, that quivered all over as if on the very eve of another bound. And she looked exactly like a wild mountain antelope, suddenly taken by surprise, cut off from its retreat, and just in the very act of escaping its pursuer, by leaping straight into the gulf below, and taking, as it were, one last look of terrified despair at the cause of its destruction, just before she disappeared.

So as she stood, absolutely still, like a virgin incarnation of outraged seclusion, the King's suspicions vanished, at the very sight of her, and his heart reproached him for her coming death. And he said to himself: I was wrong: for it is beyond all doubt that I have frightened her, almost to the point of self-destruction: as what are women, after all, but cowards to the core? And if I stay another moment, it seems certain that she will fall, even if she does not leap in terror, into that awful gulf, on whose very verge it makes me dizzy even to see her standing, how, I cannot think. Therefore I will go away at once, without delay. And as he so determined, he cast upon her a single glance of contempt mingled with disdain, just before turning to go away.

And in that brief moment of hesitation, he gave the God of Love his opportunity, and was lost beyond recall. For as he looked carelessly towards her, all at once, all his contempt and disdain suddenly disappeared, giving place to curiosity, that gradually changed into amazement, and then wonder, so that instead of turning, he stood himself absolutely still, as if to imitate her, lost in his own eyes, and resembling a picture painted on a wall. And all at once, a doubt suddenly rose into his heart, so that he said to himself silently: Is it a woman after all? For as he gazed at her, her figure stood out, sharp and clear, against the background of the sky, and the empty space all round her and below her, so that she seemed to hang in air, poised somehow on the border of her garments that concealed her feet on the very edge of that dizzy steep. And she was clothed in one long soft robe of dark red silk, out of whose mass her two bare slender arms that held in their clenched hands her flowers stood like incomparable curves of alabaster, round, and miraculously still, and edged as it were with delicate distinctness as if by a sudden stroke of the Creator's chisel against the void behind them. And all about the graceful upper portion of her body and her head was clinging, like a cloud that had crept up to embrace her out of the misty sea below and settled affectionately in soft and loving folds about her, a veil, that was woven as it seemed out of golden films of the gauze of the setting sun, fastened to her head by what seemed to be an inverted silver moon, and through it he could just discern against the slender slope of her shoulder the swelling outline of her shy right breast, shrinking beneath it as if in utter shame at the outrageous immodesty of its sister on the left, which owing to her attitude was thrown out defiantly towards him, as if to invite his admiration, and saying to him: Find fault with my pure and perfect maiden circle if you can.

And then, that very thing happened, which had been predicted by the God of Love. For all at once, the tall twin semicircles of her curving inky brow, on which astonishment sat motionless, as if unwilling to go away, struck him also with extreme surprise, so that like a mirror of herself he gazed at it, with his own brow raised in imitation unaware, saying to himself: Why, it exactly resembles a bent bow, drawn to the very breaking point, as if to discharge a shaft. And at that very moment, her blue eyes struck him to the heart. For there suddenly began to pour into his soul, from underneath that strange intoxicating bow, a flood of deep blue, and he utterly forgot, as he looked straight into it, what he was about, or where he was.

And at that exact moment, the Agitator of the Soul,[26 - Manmatha: the God of Love, the Churner of the Soul.] who, unseen himself, was watching him intently, poised in the abyss, a little way from the arbour's edge, became himself violently agitated. And he murmured softly, clasping his two hands together, with entreaty and emotion: O Wayu,[27 - The God of the Wind.] help me now, by some trick of thy art. For yonder my victim stands, balanced, exactly like herself, on the very brink of the precipice of passion, and a single touch will plunge him, headlong, into its boiling whirl.

And the Wind heard his prayer, and came suddenly to his assistance. For all at once, there leaped up out of that valley of mist a gust, that caught the garments of that slender beauty standing still upon its edge, and tossed them into folds that fluttered round her lovely limbs, betraying all their undulating lines and hills and hollows, making her round breasts rounder, and adding curve to her curving hips, tearing away the curtain from her beauty, and carving as it were her statue out of the soft substance of her clinging red silk robe. And it lifted, just a very little, that provoking curtain's lower edge, and showed him, for only a single instant, her two tiny feet, with their ankles, standing timidly together, and then dropped it again, as if ashamed. And Kámadewa murmured in delight: Well done, O admirable Wayu; again, once more. And once again the Wind obeyed him. For it caught up, suddenly, a wisp of cloud, floating past as if on purpose to oblige the God of Love, and tore it and sent it, driving and curling, a little way above her pretty head, between her and the sun. And the shadows of that broken cloud suddenly ran over her, and showed her for an instant to the King, now bathed in the kisses of the young sun's colour, now darkened, as if by jealousy, by the shadows of the cloud, that envied as it were the kisses of the sun.

And all at once, as the King gazed at her like one in a trance, she spoke. And she said, in a low voice, that trembled as if at its own sound: Sir, this arbour is mine, and sacred, and forbidden to all but me alone. And doubtless, thou hast intruded by accident, rather than design.

And Chand looked at her as she spoke, like a man stunned by a blow: all unaware that she, and the Wind, and Love, and Spring were all in conspiracy against him. And he hardly understood the meaning of her words. But he said to himself, as he looked at her in confusion: Was there ever before heard in the world a sound like that low delicious frightened voice?

And for a single instant, he looked straight into her eyes. And he wavered, and hesitated, knowing neither what to say, nor what to do. And all at once, he bowed to her, and turned round, and went away without a word, the way he came.

And seeing him go, Yogeshwara in his ambush bit his lip with annoyance. And he said to himself: Why, what on earth is she about? For she has actually driven him away, almost before he had arrived.

But the son of Brahma[28 - i. e., Love.] looked after him, as he went, with exultation, and a mocking smile. And he said: Excellent Wayu, thy delicious touches have finished him. And now, my business is done, and I need stay no longer. Let him go, if he will: he will soon be back, of his own accord. Now, there is nothing in the three worlds strong enough to keep him away.

And the Daughter of the Mountain said softly to her lord: See, how Kandarpa[29 - i. e., Love.] is always just the same, merciless, and jeering at his unhappy victims, and adding insult to his injury, and fearing no retaliation, secure of impunity. For well he knows, that his body cannot again be reduced to ashes, seeing that men and women have only two eyes each.[30 - i. e., they all lack Maheshwara's third eye, which consumed Love's body with a fiery glance, when the audacious little deity dared to inspire the Great God himself with passion for Párwatí as she stood before him.]

III

But in the meanwhile, no sooner had the King turned his back upon the terrace with its arbour, than all at once, his feet stopped, as it were, of their own accord, as if in their unwillingness to go away, they had suddenly become rooted in the ground. And so he remained standing, with his eyes fixed upon the ground before him, and a soul, out of which everything had utterly disappeared, except the picture of what he had left behind him, standing on the edge of the cliff. And he had totally forgotten Yogeshwara, and the King's Guru, and everything else, so intense was his preoccupation and his endeavour to reconstruct that picture in his mind. And as he stood striving to recall it, all unawares he smiled, so great was his pleasure in its recollection.[31 - The English reader should bear in mind, that, in Sanskrit, recollection and love are often, as here, denoted by the same word.] And he murmured to himself: Strange! that I cannot, I know not why, recollect anything about her, with exact accuracy, except those delicious, and, somehow or other, bewildering, and as it were, provoking brows of hers, with their two surprising arches. For I had no time to examine the rest of her attentively; and moreover, the blue colour of her eyes, in which I seemed to flounder, confused my soul, and stood before it like a mist, in which I could see absolutely nothing else. And yet, if I recollect correctly, the double curve of her brow was as it were repeated, in her lips, which resembled a miniature reproduction of her brow, only red instead of black, and in her soft round bosom, and even all about her, so that she seemed to be a thing composed entirely of twin curves, beginning from her brow.

And so as he stood, all at once there arose in his soul an intense desire to look at her again, mixed with extreme regret, and sorrow, for his own abrupt departure. And he was enraged with himself, feeling like one that had missed an opportunity that could never again recur, and he stood with a soul sick with longing to return, and disinclination to go away, mixed with shame at the thought of returning. And he muttered to himself: Alas! where was the necessity of going away with such extraordinary precipitation? Why did I not wait a little while? Surely I was a fool. And what is to be done now? And I wonder what she is doing. Who knows, whether she is still there, having perhaps gone away herself, somehow or other, as soon as I had gone?

So as he stood, in perplexity, debating with himself, all at once, his face lit up, as it were, with a smile of satisfaction. And he exclaimed in delight: Ha! I have suddenly discovered a pretext, under cover of which I can return, and thus create another opportunity of seeing her, if only she is still there.

And instantly he turned round, and went back towards the arbour as it were with joyous step, and a soul in exultation at the anticipation of seeing her again, mixed with intense anxiety, lest, when he entered, the arbour should be empty, and she have gone away.

IV

And when he entered the arbour once more, and saw her again, this time, at the very sight of her, his heart trembled with delight, saying to itself, as if with relief: Ah! she is still there. And she was standing almost exactly in the attitude in which she stood before, save only, that she was not quite so close to the brink of the abyss. But she made a step towards it, as he entered, turning, and taking, as it were, her stand beside it, as much as to say: Here is my friend, and my defender, and my refuge. And all the surprise had vanished from her face: and instead of it, the eyes, with which she looked at him in doubt, were full of dark suspicion and distrust, mixed with apprehension. And they watched him, with close attention, as if she expected that, like a panther, he might make a sudden spring upon her, before she could escape. And she seemed to say to him, with silent alarm and indignation: What! has he actually returned? Ha! it is as I feared. And now, my only refuge lies at the very bottom of the gorge.

And then, as if afraid lest she should put her threat into execution, out of terror, before he could prevent her, the King said hastily: O mountain maiden, do not be afraid, to see me return: for I have done so, only because I was ashamed, first, for having broken in upon thy privacy, and then again, still more, for having left thee so abruptly, without explaining or excusing my intrusion. And if I am guilty, I am not without excuse: nor myself the one to blame: since I was brought here by the minister, Yogeshwara, who told me to expect in this arbour the arrival of the Guru of the King. And being an utter stranger, I know not, if I go away alone, whither to turn my steps. But in any case, I do adjure thee, to dismiss thy apprehension: since thou hast absolutely no occasion at all for alarm.

And while he spoke, she stood, listening, with suspicion, to his apology: and when he finished, all at once, she turned upon him like a fury, and exclaimed, stamping her little foot upon the ground: And how dared Yogeshwara bring thee to my arbour? Did I not refuse, when he begged me to lend it him, and yet, has he had the audacity to borrow it, against my will? and use it, as an inn, for passing strangers? And as the King stood, aghast, amazed at the sudden storm of indignation that fell upon him, like a traveller overtaken by a thundercloud, yet all the while wondering at the beauty of the lightning threatening to strike him, all at once, recollection suddenly brought into his mind, what Yogeshwara had said to him, just before he went away. And he murmured to himself: Apparently the owner of this arbour, notwithstanding Yogeshwara's diligence, is before me after all, and certainly this arbour is, as it seems, the very last place to which I should have come. And as he thought, all at once she said to him, with irritation: And who then art thou, whom he has placed here, as if on purpose to disturb me, and terrify me and annoy me?

And as the King looked at her, he said to himself: Now I shall pay for Yogeshwara's impertinence. And I feel like a culprit before her, and yet, somehow or other, her anger is delightful, like that of a child whose toy is broken, about to fly into a passion with anyone it sees. And he said: O maiden, be not angry with the innocent. For I am only Chand the son of Chand, arrived here this very morning on a visit of importance to thy King.

And as he spoke, she started with surprise: and then all at once, as he watched her, all her anger suddenly disappeared. And a smile, like that of one who recollects, crept over her face: and she dropped all her flowers upon the floor, and began to clap her hands. And she exclaimed: Ha! now I remember, and who else could it be? And I wonder that I did not think of it before: since they say, King Chand is a giant, and thy size is, as it were, thy guarantee, and the proof of thy words. And now, then, I will solve thy problem, in the matter of this arbour, by instantly going away myself, and leaving it to thee: to await by thyself the arrival of the Guru: for as to Yogeshwara, he shall learn another time, the danger of employing my arbour as an inn.

And instantly, she drew her veil around her face,[32 - Nothing in India is so delightful as the grace with which the women, even the oldest and the ugliest, handle that part of their garment that serves them for a veil. It is an everlasting beauty to see them, as they walk along the street, quietly drawing it around them: a thing lost among us altogether, like its motive.] and came very quickly towards him, to pass by him, and escape by the door. But Chand put out his hand, as though to stop her, exclaiming: O daughter of King Mitra, for I cannot doubt that thou art she, I should be altogether inexcusable, if I came here only to deprive thee, and as it were, expel thee from thy arbour by my coming. See now, I will myself depart the very moment that the Guru arrives: and in the meantime, wilt thou not dismiss thy alarm and indignation, and suffer me to remain with thee, till he appears?

And as he spoke, Yogeshwara in his ambush exclaimed in delight: Ha! I did her wrong, and she is very clever. For now she has brought him to the point of begging for permission to remain, never dreaming, that that is exactly what she wishes him to do herself. And I thought that she had driven him away: but she, like a skilful angler, knew, that the hook was already in the jaws of her royal fish.

V

So as the King spoke, with imploring eyes, and entreaty in his voice, she turned suddenly towards him, and began as it were to examine him, with curiosity and amazement. And after a while she said, as if with incredulity: Have my own ears turned traitors, and is it now, that they are playing me false, or was it then, when, as I thought, I heard thee name thyself King Chand the son of Chand? And Chand said: Nay, but I am actually he. And she laughed scornfully, and exclaimed: Art thou absolutely sure, that thou hast not mistaken thy identity? Can it be, that thou art really Chand? For I have heard, that of all companions in the world, women are those from whom he most desires to escape.

And she looked at him awhile, with eyes, of which he could not tell, whether that which filled their blue was disbelief or derision or amusement; and all at once, she turned away, and went back to her basket, and began once more to busy herself about its flowers, kneeling down beside it. And after a while, she turned her head towards him, and said, shooting at him a glance out of the very corner of her eye: King Chand has my permission, if he chooses, to remain, till the Guru arrives: and in the meanwhile, I crave his permission to return to my work among my flowers, in which his uninvited entrance interrupted me: since such a thing as I am is not fit for such a hero as is he: nor can it be supposed that conversation such as mine could possibly amuse him. And yet, would the King deign to be advised by such a thing as me, he would go instantly away, without losing any time: for there is danger in remaining.

And Chand said: Where, and of what nature is the danger? And as he spoke, she turned round, and bent her great blue eyes upon him, with her two lips closed, as though determined not to smile, almost into a ball, so that they exactly resembled a ripe bimba fruit. And she seemed as it were to say to him: Dost thou not recognise, who is the danger? And after a while, she turned away, saying: The danger is, that King Chand may utterly wreck his reputation for misogyny, by betraying an inclination for the society of women. For I think that his friends in the plains would be very much astonished; if they knew that he had actually gone so far as to return of his own accord to an arbour, out of which the unsuspected and abominable presence of one of that insignificant and useless sex had originally driven him.

And then she sat in silence, stealing at him every now and then glances from eyes he could not see, that resembled soft flashes of lightning in the form of blue and silent laughter, from under the long lashes which as he watched her he could see standing out from her round soft cheek like the roof of a house. And though she never laughed, he knew that she was laughing at him, by that very cheek, from which he could not take his eyes, resembling as it did a very incarnation of round, soft, delicious, unpunishable impertinence, that attracted him with so irresistible a longing for its owner that he could hardly breathe. And yet he was filled with shame, and confusion, and rage against himself, and also against her; and all the while he felt, that his anger against her was as it were impotent and helpless, for his soul began as it were to turn traitor to him, going over in spite of himself to her side. And so he stood, gazing at her in wrath that was mixed with a smile of delight, utterly unable either to say or to do anything at all. And he strove to be offended with her, in vain, in spite of the shame and exasperation that she was pouring into his heart. And so as he stood, like a picture of wounded pride and helpless irresolution, all at once, she looked round, and as it were caught him unawares, standing at her mercy, abashed and ashamed, the very target of her mocking eyes. And utterly unable to endure it any longer, he suddenly turned and ran out of the arbour, as if he were escaping from a foe.

VI

And then, strange! hardly had he gone a few steps from the terrace, when again his feet stopped, as if utterly refusing to carry him away. And he stood, burning with shame, and anger, and yet unable to move. And he thought no longer, as at first, of her beauty, but simply of herself: and he was absolutely miserable, feeling that somehow or other she had mastered him; and his soul was filled to the very brim with nothing but her, and as it were kept on repeating obstinately, she, she, she, as if her personality had filled it to the exclusion of his own. Alas! by reason of his youth and inexperience he was all unaware, that the poison of Love was in his heart, and beginning to work. And she danced as it were before his eyes, and whirled all round him, and sat in his soul, and seized upon it and its faculties and senses, and it was as though the world had vanished, leaving in its place nothing but a void, composed of a blue that was the very substance of herself. And so he stood, still, like one torn by strong chains in opposite directions, determined to go away, and yet never moving, and ashamed to go back, and yet drawn by an irresistible spell, that whispered as it were in his ear: Return: return. And so he stood a long while, as utterly unconscious of everything around him, as if he had become a tree, fanned by the wind.

And at last, he turned, and went back, very slowly, with sad and heavy feet, that moved, as if they were carrying a guilty criminal to his own execution. And when he reached the arbour door, again he stopped, and stood irresolutely near it, looking out over the valley, like one paralysed by his own indecision. And then at length, unable to endure the separation from her any longer, he said to himself with a sigh: Now everything is quiet: and doubtless, she has utterly forgotten all about me, thinking me gone, not again to return. And now no doubt she will be working with her flowers, just as she was at first, and with her back towards me. Therefore, if I stoop down, very carefully, making no noise, I shall be able to watch her, unobserved. And he stooped, stealthily, and peeped round the edge of the door.

And lo! when he looked, she also was standing, stooping, almost exactly like himself, on the other side, close to the door, and leaning forward eagerly, with a great bunch of flowers in one hand, and the other stretched, like a creeper, bowing in the wind of excitement, a little way before her, watching, as if with eager desire, to see him return. And when, all at once, their eyes met, she stood a little while looking at him exactly like a child in the extremity of delight. And all at once, she began to laugh, with low, long, joyous and unrestrainable laughter, that went on and on, sounding in his ears like the murmur of a waterfall, and seeming as though it would never stop. And the King, reduced as he was to the very lowest depth of utter shame, and blushing, till the very hair seemed to stand up upon his head, found as it were a refuge in his very desperation. And he said to himself: I care not, for now I am at the very bottom of the abyss of shame: and let her laugh, if she will, at me, or anything in the three worlds: so only that I listen to her, and am here, to look at her again.

And at last, she said, with her laughter still hanging as it were in the music of her voice: O King Chand, if thou art really he, come in, since as it appears, thou absolutely must, for I have a question to put to thee. And the King entered, like a culprit, and stood looking at her like one ready to submit to any punishment she chose. And she came towards him and stood, with her two little bare feet exactly together, side by side, and her two hands clasped behind her back, and her head thrown right back upon her shoulders to look up at him, so that her two small breasts jutted out like round bosses on the edge of the delicious terrace of her throat. And she said: Maháráj, wilt thou, to whom all women are equally contemptible, only tell me, for I am curious to know, why thou art so utterly unable to go away from this arbour of mine? Is it these flowers that attract thee? For here there is absolutely nothing other than these flowers, and myself.

And as she spoke, her small mouth, that resembled the incarnate fragrance and colour of a flower, with its two intoxicating lips parted in the curl of a smile, just over the leaf-like point of her small soft chin, bewildered him so, that he could hardly listen to the meaning of her words. And he stammered, and hesitated, and said: I came, because I had nowhere else to go. Then she said: And why, then, didst thou go away at all? And suddenly he said: I went, in order to escape, alas! from thee. And she said, shaking her head slowly from side to side: Nay, not from me, but it may be, from thyself. Art thou sure that it is not thy own self, from which thou art vainly endeavouring to escape? Dost thou know thyself so well, as to be certain what it is, that thou art shunning or desiring? Stand, now, there a little while, and examine for thyself thy condition, while I finish my work.

VII

And as she spoke, once more she went back to her flowers. And she dragged her great basket, with difficulty, to the very edge of the cliff, and knelt, sitting on her own feet, beside it. And taking out its flowers, one by one, she began rapidly and skilfully to weave them in a garland, crooning to herself all the while a kind of song, in a voice so low as to be all but inaudible. And she paid absolutely no attention to the King at all, wholly absorbed as it seemed in her work, and ignoring his presence altogether. And every now and then, she took a flower, and held it up before her, speaking as it were to it, before she wove it in among its fellows; and now and then she looked, with attention, at a flower, and as if condemning it, threw it away into the valley. So she continued, weaving, and muttering as it were a spell. And all the while she swayed to and fro, a very little, as if keeping time to her own unintelligible song.

And so as she sat and wove, the King stood watching her, leaning against the door-post, with his arms folded, absolutely still. And he resembled a rock, against which the sea of her beauty came beating, wave after wave, as if to shake it from its base. And his soul went travelling, by the means of his eye, slowly and carefully about her, like a painter. And like a bee, it hovered about the flower of her moving lips, and flew circling all about the slowly moving curve of her bosom, and wandered in and out about her slender waist, lost, as she sat kneeling, in the folds of her heavy limbs, and then rose and repeated its journey, ending where it first began, and going round and round her, as if unable to go away. And as he gazed, he became as it were himself a sea, and began as it were to surge in agitation, under the soft mysterious attraction of that moonlike mass of grace and symmetry and curve and colour, floating as it seemed before him in the air, on the edge of that cliff. And all the while, there was silence in the arbour, broken only by the low sound of the singing of the King's daughter. And in that silence, the humming of the bees outside came, every now and then, drifting in upon the breeze, that carried also the scent of the blossoms of the trees, and floated about the King, charming at once by a double spell, like billows of the essence of intoxication rolling in on his already intoxicated soul. And he heard the wind below in the valley sweep sighing among its trees, and now and then, the note of the wild pigeon calling to his wife. So he stood, wrapped in a dream, lifted as it were on that cloud-loved terrace above the world, and bathing in the nectar-poison of the nervous apprehension of pure passion that was absolutely lost, in the ecstasy of self-annihilation, in its object, the maiden form before him, singing and swaying as she wove.

And then, at last, she finished her work, and stopped. And she stood up, and took the garland she had made, and laid it carefully aside, in a corner. And then she turned towards him, and pointed with her finger to the marble seat that ran like a long bench all along the arbour wall. And the King instantly went and took his seat, as if obeying her commands, upon it, while she returned and remained, half sitting, half kneeling, beside her basket with fragments of flowers all around her, and her two hands joined together on her lap.

VIII

And at that moment, there came a great eagle, that passed in the air close beside them, and flew away over the valley. And seeing him, she said: O King Chand, would thy friends below believe him, were he to fly down and tell them, he had seen thee sitting on a mountain cliff, conversing with a woman! Then said Chand with a sigh: Art thou indeed a woman, and not rather some mountain witch that has destroyed me by a spell? For it is but a moment since first I entered this enchanted arbour, and already I am changed, into something other than I was: and short as it has been, yet that moment has contained within it as it were the power of years of alteration. Then she said: If this arbour of mine has wrought a change in thee, to thy dissatisfaction, surely the fault was all thy own, for coming in, and thrusting thyself upon me, as it were, not once alone, but many times, not by my invitation, but of thy own accord. Blame, therefore, thyself alone, if thou hast suffered, by reason of thy intrusion, a change for the worse. And the King said hastily: I said not that the change was for the worse, but only, that I had undergone a change. Then she said: But if, then, thy change is for the better, of what art thou complaining? Surely thou art in that case a gainer, by me and by my arbour. And he said: Nay, neither did I say that the change was for the better. And she laughed, and exclaimed: What! canst thou not even tell, whether this extraordinary change that has befallen thee is good or bad? Dost thou, then, not even know, which to prefer, thy former condition, or thy present? And he said: No. Then she said: Of what nature, then, is this inexplicable change, that leaves thee neither better, nor worse, nor even yet the same, but something indeterminate, of which thou canst give no account at all? And the King remained silent, with his eyes fixed upon her face.

So then, after a while, she said softly: Come now, shall I come to thy assistance, and like a physician, probe for thee thy soul, and show thee, what thou canst not unriddle for thyself? Art thou not angry with thyself, and only for this reason, that thou art beginning to doubt, whether, after all, a woman is exactly only what thou hast hitherto determined to consider her? Say, is it not so? And thy confidence in thyself wavers, and thy soul is endeavouring to make, if possible, someone else, rather than thyself, culpable for the wound given to thy vanity? And the King exclaimed, as if stung by her words: Did I not say, thou wert a witch? Then she said: What need is here of any witchcraft? Art thou not, by thine own avowal, Chand, and who is there that has not heard alike of Chand's delight in war, and his antipathy to my sex? And she paused a moment, and she said: Come now; since fortune and thy own insistence have cast thee for a moment in my way, and this Guru seems long in making his appearance, shall I in the interval do battle against thee, for myself and for my sisters? Thou art fond of battles: art thou ready to try thy fortune in this field?

And the King said in confusion: Nay, for the combatants in this case are unevenly equipped.

Then she laughed ironically, and exclaimed: What! Chand! and afraid of a combat with a woman! Shall I compare thee, then, to a general who has long ago taken up a position of which he boasts loudly as impregnable, yet dare not expose it to the test? And all at once she leaned towards him, and said, with a smile, in a tone of irresistible sweetness: Come, bring thy charges against me, one by one, and I will do what I can, in my weakness,[33 - There is a play on the word, which means also a woman.] to refuse and repel them.

And as she spoke, Yogeshwara said to himself, within his ambush: Ha! now, let us see what he will say. And well did he object, that the combat was uneven, and its result, a foregone conclusion. For this crafty little daughter of a King knows just as well as he does, that she is herself the formidable argument, against which he has not only no weapons of attack, but absolutely no defence at all. And even before the battle has begun, she has annihilated all his force beforehand, by that bewildering glance from those blue irrefutable eyes, which stealing into his heart, have bribed and corrupted it, making it her own ally, and a traitor to himself.