An Essence Of The Dusk, 5th Edition by F. W. Bain
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F. W. Bain >> An Essence Of The Dusk, 5th Edition
And she held out towards him, in the lotus of her hand, a tiny flower,
in colour like an atom of the concentrated essence of the sky. And as
Aja looked at it, there came from it a stream of a sharp and biting
scent, that rushed into his soul, coming laden as it were with
reminiscence and suggestions of the past; so that he said to himself:
Ha! of what does this remind me, and where is it that I smelled its
almost intolerable sweet before? And suddenly, the little hut rushed
into his mind, and he exclaimed: It is the very smell of the creeper on
its roof. And instantly, a feeling of amazement that almost overcame
him, mingled with terror, crept like a shudder over his limbs, and his
hair stood on end. And he looked at Natabhrukuti, who was watching him
intently, and said, hoarsely: Who art thou, thou strange beauty, and
what dost thou want of me? And what is the meaning of these inexplicable
mysteries, before which I feel as if my reason were deserting me, and I
were about to faint again?
VIII.
Then she laughed, and said: Fair boy, I am only that bitter-sweet[18], a
woman: and I want no more than what every woman wants, the man she
loves, and that is thou. Aye! dost thou ask me, who and what I am?
Listen then, and I will tell thee. I am a bee, which not like other
bees, roams roving to flower after flower, but confines itself
exclusively to one. I am a breeze, which not like other breezes blows
fickle and inconstant now hither and now thither, but is fixed and ever
steady, coming straight from Malaya laden with the sandal of affection
to lay it at thy feet. I am only the echo of a voice which is thyself,
the shadow of a substance and the reflection of a sun. I am like the
other half of the god that carries the moon upon his head, the twin, the
duplicate and counterpart of a deity who is thou, I am Rati, rejoicing
to find again the body of her husband, and thou art Love himself
returned to life whom I have found. I am an essence of the ocean, but
unlike it, I hold within my heart not many pearls, but only one, which
is thyself. I am a wick, consuming in thy flame, and like the music of a
lute, I am a thing wholly compounded of melodies and tones, whose mood
and being are dependent on the player, who is thou. Art thou sad? then I
am also: art thou joyous? so am I: my soul is tossed about, and hangs on
thy smiling or thy sighing, as a criminal depends on the sentence of the
judge. And like a crystal, I am colourless[19] without thee, but ready
on the instant to assume every tinge of the colour of thyself. Cast thy
eyes upon me, and thou shalt see as in a glass thy every mood painted
on the surface of my face. Ah! dost thou ask me what I am? Alas! I am a
target for the poisoned arrows which Love shoots at me in the form of
thy beauty greater than his own. And I am like a bare and withered,
leafless and frost-bitten tree, which has suddenly shot up into blossom
at the coming of spring in thy form. But as for thee, why, O why dost
thou regard me that live for only thee as if I were a deadly snake, and
thou a startled deer? In vain, in vain, dost thou endeavour to repel me,
for I will not be repelled. I will melt thy cold ice in thy despite, by
the fire of my affection, and drown thee in its flood, and sweep thee
away from the rocks of thy resistance till thou art lost for ever in its
dark and pearly depths.
[18] _Wishamritam_: lit. poison-nectar.
[19] Also means _without affection_.
And as Aja stood, listening in confusion to her words, which poured from
her like a torrent, suddenly she clapped her hands, and exclaimed, as he
started again at her vehemence: Ha! shall I tell thee, thou wilful and
reluctant boy, of what thou dost remind me, standing as it were aghast,
and obstinately set against me, mute, and yet asking what I am? Know,
that long ago there was a King, who had for wives a thousand queens. And
it happened that one day, he went with his wives to ramble in the heart
of a forest. So after sporting for a while, he grew tired, in the heat
of the day, and lay down and fell asleep. Then all his queens stole away
and left him lying, and went roaming up and down, very strange creatures
in that wild rough wood, looking like living flowers of every hue and
kind, that had somehow or other got free from their roots, a body of
deer-eyed decoys let loose by Love the Hunter, to lure into his toils
every man that should behold them. So as they rambled here and there,
they came suddenly on an old ascetic. And he was standing still, half
buried in the hills of ants, themselves covered over by his long white
hair, immersed in meditation. Then all those fair women went up and
stood around him in a cluster of beautiful curiosity, wondering at the
sight of him, and asking each other in amazement, what in the world he
could possibly be. So as they crowded round him, that old ascetic
emerged from his trance, and as thou art doing, stood silent and aghast,
thinking, as perhaps thou dost thyself, that Indra must have sent him
all the nymphs of heaven in a body, to lure him from the path of
liberation. For, O, thou beautiful suspicious youth, what is there so
terrible about me, as to cause thee to shrink from my approach? Know,
that many would be glad to be wooed as was that old ascetic, and as thou
art now.
IX.
And then, Aja strove to awake as it were from a dream. And he shook
himself, as if to shake it off, and he said to himself: I feel that I am
falling as it were a victim to the spell of this passionate and subtle
beauty; and now, unless I stiffen and steel myself against her, I shall
undoubtedly be bewitched and beguiled beyond the possibility of escape.
And he summoned his resolution, and said, with a semblance of composure:
Fair one, thou dost thyself no injustice in comparing thyself alone to a
thousand queens: for thou art a very incarnation of all the bewildering
fascination of thy sex. And yet, potent as they are, thy charms are
wasted, and resemble blunted arrows when directed against me. For as I
have already told thee, I am pledged to another, and proof against thy
spell, as doubtless was thy old ascetic against that bevy of straying
queens.
And then Natabhrukuti smiled, and she shook at him her finger, as she
answered: Rash boy, beware: Be not too sure of the adamantine quality of
thy resistance, nor even of thy wisdom in resisting me at all. And
beware of provoking the indignation of slighted Love, who may make of
thee a signal example of his vengeance. Take care, lest annoyed with thy
obstinacy in rejecting what he offers thee for nothing, he should
deprive thee even of that other beauty on whose account alone it is that
I am held by thee so cheap. Poor youth! but that my lips are tied, I
could enlighten thee. Art thou, who art so ready lightly to disdain me,
art thou, I say, so sure, so very sure, that thou art thyself the only
lover of this much married beauty, whom thou sawest, as thou sayest, for
the very first time in thy life to-day? Art thou so sure, so very sure,
that she is not deceiving thee, and that thou art not merely the last of
the many lovers whom she toys with for a moment, and then carelessly
casts away? Art thou so very certain that thou hast never had a
predecessor? And Aja started, in spite of himself. For the word recalled
to him the manner of the old King. And Natabhrukuti saw it. And she
looked at him as it were with compassion, and said: Alas! unhappy boy:
thou seest that in thy youth and inexperience such an idea had not
occurred to thee. Little art thou qualified to cope with a woman's
guile.
Then said Aja fiercely, in wrath both with himself and her: It is false,
and she is true. But Natabhrukuti answered very gently: Be not angry,
for I do not question that she loves thee. I do not even doubt it: for
if she did not, she would be a fool. But listen, and learn, what thou
dost not seem to know, that Love is a Master Knave; aye! by far the
greatest master of deceit in the three great worlds. And woman is his
aptest pupil, and every woman living, were she even as simple as
thyself, becomes, as soon as she falls under the influence of Love, a
very incarnation of policy and craft and wiles. I tell thee, foolish
boy, that she that loves in earnest, were she good as gold, pure as
snow, and flawless as a diamond, would plunge, to gain her object, to
the very lowest bottom of the ocean of deceit. And what is her object
but the esteem of her lover? Dost thou think, she would balance for an
instant, between her lover, and the ruin of the world? between his good
opinion, and a lie? Dost thou think, she would forfeit thy esteem, when
to deceive thee would preserve it? I tell thee, in such a dilemma, she
would lie, till the very sun at noon hid his face out of shame.
Know[20], that long ago there lived at Waranasi[21] an independent
lady, of beauty so extraordinary, that swarms of lovers use to buzz
continually about her like great black bees about the mango blossom in
the spring. But independent though she was, she was so fastidious, that
none of her innumerable lovers ever touched her heart even for a moment.
And hence she lived like a lamp at midnight surrounded by the corpses of
her victims, who fluttered about her lustre and perished in its flame.
And then at last, one day it came about that a tall young Rajpoot almost
as beautiful as thou art arrived at Waranasi. And Kashayini[22] (for
that was her name) saw him from a window as he came into the city; and
instantly like an empty pitcher suddenly plunged into the Ganges, she
was filled to the very brim by the inrush of Love's sacred nectar. And
she said to herself: The very first thing that he will hear of in the
city is myself. And like everybody else, he will come immediately to see
me: and that very moment, I shall abandon the body out of shame. For
though my beauty might attract him, yet he will be convinced that many
lovers have preceded him, and therefore, at the bottom of his heart he
will despise me. And this would be worse than any death. And yet without
him, my birth will have been in vain. Therefore, I must devise some
expedient. So after a while, she went out in disguise, and bought for a
large sum of money the body of a woman of her own age and size who had
died that very day. And bringing that body home secretly at night, she
dressed it in her own clothes, and burned it till its identity was
obliterated. And then she set fire to her house, and left it by a back
door, and went away, abandoning all her wealth but the jewels that she
wore, for the sake of her picture in the air[23]. And at that very
moment, the Rajpoot came along, led by some of the townspeople to visit
her, as it were set on fire by the very description of her beauty. And
he looked and saw the flames bursting from her house, as though lit by
himself. And they found the half burned body in the ashes, and
immediately all the lovers of Kashayini followed her through the fire of
grief to the other world. But the Rajpoot managed, in spite of
disappointment, to remain alive. And she, in the meantime, having given
everyone the slip, found a false ascetic, and bribed him with jewels,
giving him instructions without letting him know who she was. So that
ascetic went and struck up acquaintance with the Rajpoot, pretending to
be a discoverer of treasure[24]. And he performed incantations, and
after awhile he said to him: Go quickly to Ujjayini; and dig in the
north-east corner of the burning ground outside the city on the very
last day of the dark half of the month of Magha, and thou shalt find a
treasure. Take it, for what is the use of treasure to such a one as me?
Thereupon the Rajpoot, having nothing else to do, went. And Kashayini,
having first made sure that the bait had taken, went herself and got
there before him. So when that Rajpoot arrived, he dug exactly as he was
told, and found absolutely nothing. And cursing his destiny, he went out
of the burning ground in the early morning: and as he went along,
suddenly he saw Kashayini, who was waiting for him, sitting weeping by
the wayside, under a great _ashwattha_ tree: beautifully dressed,
blazing with jewels, and adorned with saffron and antimony, betel,
indigo, and spangles, flowers, minium, and henna, bangles on ancle and
comb in her hair. And she said to that Rajpoot, who was as utterly
astounded by the sight of her as if she had been water in the desert: O
son of a king, succour one who is utterly without resource. And when he
asked her, what was the matter, she said: I was the only wife of a very
rich merchant, and as we travelled from the South, suddenly we were set
upon by a band of Thags. And after killing every one but me[25], they
all went to sleep, thinking me secure; but in the middle of the night, I
went a little way, and hid myself in a hollow tree. And in the morning,
those villains, after hunting for me in vain, all went away, fearing a
pursuit, and I came out of the tree trembling, and reached this road,
and now I am alone in the world. Then said the Rajpoot to himself: Ha!
so, after all, I have found my treasure, and that excellent ascetic was
a true prophet. And he said: O lady, I am of good family. And now, if
thou wilt have me for a husband, I will supply the loss of thy merchant,
and all the rest of thy relations. And she feigned reluctance: but after
a while, she dried her tears, and consented. But that Rajpoot almost
went out of his mind, so great was his delight. And one day he told her
of Waranasi, and the burning of Kashayini. And she looked at him with
laughing eyes, and said: O my husband, I will make up to thee for the
loss of Kashayini: for I am just as beautiful as she.
[20] In all Oriental stories, statements are proved not by
Aristotelian syllogism, but by "instances:" and we are
reminded of the opinion of the artful Retz, that "_one
never persuades anybody, but anybody can insinuate
anything._"
[21] Benares. The lady in question was one of those Hindoo
Aspasias of whom many similar stories are told.
[22] Which we might translate Aromatic: it includes the
ideas of _red colour_ and _pungent perfume_.
[23] Or, as we say, castle in the air.
[24] A regular trade in medieval India.
[25] Everything in this story is exactly in harmony with
the manners of medieval India. The Thags often preserved a
woman for her beauty, when they murdered every one else.
X.
And as Natabhrukuti ended, she leaned forward, and gazed at Aja with
soft seductive eyes, till he blushed, and wavered before her like the
flame of a candle in a wind. For her beauty bewildered him, and her
cunning story planted, as if against his will, a seed of suspicion in
his mind. And in spite of himself, he said to himself: What if it were
as she says, and my wife, like another Kashayini, were concealing from
me something that she shrank from avowing, lest I should think the worse
of her. And he turned pale at the thought, that any other lover should,
even a very little, have occupied her heart before him. And he stood
silent, and confused, striving to expel from his mind the doubt that
Natabhrukuti had raised in it, saying to himself: Can I really be only
the last of many lovers? And all the while, Natabhrukuti watched him,
devouring him as it were with her eyes. And at last, she said again:
Sweet boy, thou art too young and too honest to cope with women, who
were framed by the Creator to deceive. But Aja said angrily: Thou art
thyself a woman, seeking at this very moment to deceive me: and as for
thy age, it is less than my own. And she said: Nay, nay: I am older, for
I am wiser than thyself. For when I see my husband, I remember him, but
me thou hast utterly forgotten, thy true and only wife. Ah! foolish one,
thou hast forgotten. And thou resemblest one, who casts away a costly
jewel, for the sake of a bit of glass, shining only in the sunlight of
thy ignorance, and trodden by the foot of every passing stranger. What!
can I do nothing to rouse thy recollection? Look at me well! look hard,
and it may be, something of me will touch as it were a chord in thy
soul.
And she came up close to him, so that the warmth and fragrance of her
beauty enveloped him like an atmosphere of intoxication. And she joined
her hands, looking up into his face, as it were compelling his reluctant
admiration by her humble submission to his will. And she said: Hast
thou, hast thou indeed forgotten all? And as he gazed at her, two huge
drops of crystal welled into her eyes, and hung poised before they fell
on the net of her long dark lashes. And she said: Thou sayest, I am
seeking to deceive thee. I love thee, and where is the deception? Is it
not rather thou that art the deceiver in this matter? Is it any fault
of mine if another has stepped in to defraud me of thyself? Or am I to
be blamed, if thy beauty still beguiles me as it did long ago? And yet,
dost thou accuse me as if I were a criminal? O blue black bee, what is
this behaviour, that thou seekest as it were to pick a quarrel with the
poor red lotus who loves thee but too well? And she smiled through her
tears, and exclaimed: Ah I but in spite of thee, I will adore thee,
whether thou wilt or no. Ha! and I will compel thee to remember, and
force my way through every barrier and obstacle till I reach the
recollection[26] in the bottom of thy heart. O canst thou not remember
the days of long ago, when my now despised beauty was a joy to thee, and
my hair a very net to snare thy willing soul, and my eyes were more to
thee than any diamonds, and these two arms were thy prison and thy
chain, and this agitated bosom was thy pillow on which I lulled thee to
slumber with the music of this very voice. Hast thou really forgotten
the nectar of my kiss? hast thou actually forgotten thy own insatiable
thirst? Ah! but if thou hast forgotten, I have not; and the innumerable
multitudes of thy too delicious kisses come back to me, singing in my
memory, and whispering in my soul like the lisping of the sea. Hark!
Dost thou not hear them also, those voices of a former birth?
[26] The reader should remember that in Sanskrit, _love_
and _recollection_ are the same word.
XI.
And as Aja gazed at her, stunned and almost overcome by the pathos of
her irresistible appeal, and as it were swept from his feet by the surge
of her passion, suddenly she seized his left hand with her right, and
stood, grasping it as if convulsively, with the other hand raised, and
bending her head as if to listen. And he listened, and lo! there sounded
in his ears a murmur resembling that of the sea, mixed with faint
strains of music, and echoes of indistinguishable singing voices coming
as it were from the ends of the earth. And a shudder ran through him, as
she turned, and looked at him as if in ecstasy, with eyes that saw
nothing, murmuring in an eager voice that chanted and charmed his ear
like the rushing of a stream: Dost thou hear the voices, calling thee
over to the other shore? For the sea is the sea of separation, and the
other shore is our former birth. Far away over the setting sun hides
the red land[27] of our old sweet love. And I can take thee back to it,
out of this dim and dingy wood. Only I can carry thee back to the land
beyond the sunset hill, where love is lying dead. Over the sea where
monsters lurk, and great pearls grow in sunless deeps, I can carry thee
back again to the land of long ago. Never a ship with a silken sail
could rock thee over across the waves so well as I will waft thee there
on the swell of this soft breast. Never a breeze from the sandal hill
could ferry thee over a silent sea so gently as will I, by breathing
into thy raptured ear tales of thy old forgotten past with fond and
fragrant lips. What! art thou still oblivious of that old delicious
birth? Dost thou never behold in dreams the paradise of our little hut,
and slake again thy raging thirst in a long forbidden kiss? Does she
never come back to thee, the Brahmani girl with a face like mine, with
lips that laughed and eyes that shone, and a mango flower in her hair?
Say, dost thou never dream of her? And she shook his arm with frenzy,
and exclaimed: Ha! wake from thy magic sleep, and tear away the curtain
that hides me from thy blinded soul. I will, I will awake thee. I will
not be forgotten. And all at once, she burst into a passion of tears.
And she reeled, as though about to fall, and tottered, and threw
herself, sobbing hard, against his breast.
[27] The Sanskrit _dwipa_ has exactly the same connotation
as our islands of the Blest, and like them it is placed in
the setting sun.
And while she spoke, Aja stood, like one pushed to the very edge of a
precipice, pale as death, and breathing hard, spellbound. And then at
last, when she threw herself upon his breast, again a shudder ran
through all his limbs. And as if her touch had shattered to pieces the
last fragment of his resolution, he caught her around the waist with the
one arm that was free. And with tears in his own eyes, he stammered, as
if in the extremity of desperation, hardly knowing what he said: Alas! I
have been harsh to thee. O lovely browed beauty, cease to weep. Why, O
why, did I not meet thee sooner by only a single day?
XII.
And at that very moment, he heard behind him a deep sigh. And as he
turned, wood, poppies, and all vanished from before his eyes. Once more
he stood on the city wall; and there before him was the King's
daughter. And she was standing in the doorway, through which he had come
upon the wall, leaning against the open door, and paler than Love's own
ashes, while her great dark eyes were frozen as it were to ice, and yet
lit up by the triple fire of sorrow and reproach and fierce disdain. And
she looked like the daughter of Janaka, when forsaken by the lord of the
race of Raghu, and like the heavenly Urwashi, when abandoned by
Pururawas, a very spirit of despair carved by the Creator into a stony
female form, to break the heart of the three worlds. And as if the very
sight of her had broken the spell that held him, reason and recollection
suddenly returned to Aja, as it were at a single bound. And he woke, as
if from a magic sleep, and on the instant, a sword ran as it were
straight into his heart. And with a cry, he flung away his sobbing
burden like a blade of grass, not caring where it fell: and ran towards
the King's daughter. But she, when she saw him coming, shrieked, and
started, and exclaimed: Away! Touch me not, save with the point of thy
sharp true sword, to pierce me through the body as thy perfidy has my
soul.
Then Aja tossed away his sword, with a shudder, over the edge of the
wall. And he seized himself by the head with both hands, with a groan
like the roar of a wounded lion. And he exclaimed: Ha! Better now it had
been indeed, had I never emerged from the waste of sand. And he turned
fiercely upon Natabhrukuti, saying: This is thy doing, thou vile
enchantress: and now I am indeed awake.
But even as he spoke, the words died away upon his lips; and he stood
still, like a picture on a wall, for wonder at what he saw before him.
For Natabhrukuti was standing still, exactly where he left her, bolt
upright, like a spear fixed in the earth. And her beauty was greater
than ever, and yet such, that as he saw it, his heart stopped in his
breast. For every vestige of the nectar of her love-emotion had left
her, and in its place, the poison of immortal hate shone in her cold and
evil eyes, which were fastened, as if with a mixture of pain and
pleasure, with a glittering and fiendish stare, upon the King's
daughter. And as he watched them, cold ran in Aja's veins. For her eyes
shook, and changed colour, and a horrible smile played on her blue and
twitching lips. And she looked thin, for her two arms hung down tight
against her sides, and her fingers opened and shut, slowly, as if of
their own accord.
And after a while, she spoke. And she turned to Aja, and said, in a
voice that resembled a hiss: Fool! thou wouldst not take the blue flower
I offered thee, though its fragrance could not have been matched by
anything in the three worlds. Now, then, I will take another way. So as
he watched her, she was gone: and he saw before him nothing but the
empty city wall.
And as he looked again, not crediting the testimony of his own eyes, he
heard a sharp cry from the King's daughter. And he turned, and saw
Yashowati sinking to the ground. And at that very moment Natabhrukuti
stood again before him. And she looked at him with strange eyes, and
said slowly: Go now, and enjoy thy wife. But I must give thee just one
kiss, before I go.
And as Aja looked into her eyes, suddenly, like a flash of lightning, he
understood. And he struck his hand upon his brow, exclaiming: Ha! Now,
now, I understand, too late. Thou art that very she, that was jealous of
the King's daughter's beauty, and ruined her out of spite. And I have
been befooled by thee, and failed to stand the test. And he ground his
teeth with rage, that swept through him like a storm. And he said to
himself: Alas! I threw away my sword. No matter. Now, then, as she said
herself, I will take another way.