by F. W. Bain
II
A GLAMOUR OF NOON
I
So she stood, a long while, gazing in the direction of his departure,touched by his emotion into an emotion, that was more than halfcompassion, of her own, and sorry, yet fearing above all things to seehim return. And then at last, as if satisfied that he was actually gone,she turned away. And she murmured to herself: Alas! poor Babhru, hadstthou but known how near thy fear came to the very truth, I doubt whetherI could ever have got thee to go away at all. And even as it is, it is awonder that he has not actually discovered what his jealousy promptedhim to guess: and all the while I trembled, feeling a very culprit, soaccurately did he probe my soul, and see into my heart. And wonderfulexceedingly is the sagacity of love, that discerns, from the veryfaintest indications, what would escape all other eyes! And yet, forall his acuteness, how little did he dream, that I knew, by experience,what love is, better, far better, than himself. He knew that I deceivedhim, but did not know, how far. And after all, what shadow of a righthas he, to claim my affection for himself? But now he has had his turn,and all that I could give him: and now, then, it is my turn, and it istime, and it is noon.
And then, all at once, Babhru, and everything concerning him, vanishedclean out of her mind. And strange! she changed, as if by magic, in aninstant, into another woman. For as she stood, unconsciously she smiled,and the smile ran, as it were, over her whole body with a sudden wave ofdelicious agitation, and from a woman that she was, lording it, as ifwith a sense of superiority, she turned into a child, trembling all overwith the excitement of anticipation. And she looked very carefully allround her, as if to make sure of being unobserved; and all at once, sheran very quickly away into the wood, turning her back on Babhru, downthe hill towards the sand. And coming at length to a little clump oftrees, she stopped abruptly, and clapped her hands. And at that veryinstant, as if he had been waiting for the signal, Atirupa issued fromthe trees. And Aranyani ran towards him, breathless, half with running,and half with the agitation of the joy of reunion, and threw herselfinto his arms, with a cry.
And then, for a while, that pair of lovers did nothing but kiss eachother all over, with kisses that followed one another like raindrops ina storm. And after a while, he said: Dear Aranyani, thou art very late,and like the little rogue thou art, hast kept me waiting, as I think, onpurpose, to make thy value greater, and increase my thirst, till I hadalmost determined, in despair, to go away. And Aranyani said, playfully:What! couldst thou not wait for me a little while, and am I not worthwaiting for, at all? And he kissed her very carefully on both eyes, andhe said: Indeed thou art. Then she said softly: And dost thou thenimagine that delay is any easier to me than to thyself? Know, that I haddifficulty, in coming even when I did. For I had first to get rid ofsomeone else, in order to come at all. And Atirupa said: Thy old lover,of whom thou hast told me? Then she said: Thou sayest well, my oldlover, who loves me, as I think, far better than thou dost, and almostas much as I love thee. But alas! for him, since I love him not again;and well will it be, for me, if in thy case also, love is not wholly onone side. Say, dost thou love me, even half as much as I love thee? AndAtirupa said, with a smile: Nay, if I must believe thee, it isimpossible.
And she gazed at him with insatiable eyes, and she said with a sigh:Yes, it is impossible. And yet, strange! it is not yet a week, since Icame upon thee in the wood for the very first time, thinking, as I sawthee, that the very god of love had, somehow or other, dropped out ofheaven, and wandering about on earth, had lost his way in our wood, onlyfor my destruction; to consume me, like lightning irresistible, only bya look: and turn me suddenly from free into a slave, the property ofanother, who is master of her body and her soul. And yet, only this verymorning did I learn, how nearly I had lost thee: since thy servant thatsaw me in the wood, and was the cause of thy coming, came within an aceof perishing himself, before he ever got away to tell. And Atirupa said:How? And Aranyani told him. And then she said: And now I fear for theealso: for should Babhru chance to see thee, his reason will desert him.And I tremble to think of thy encounter, with such a giant as is he. Andyet I know not what to do. For he will surely come across thee, sooneror later, as indeed it is marvellous that he has not done already:since thou comest daily to me in the wood.
And Atirupa laughed, and he said: Fear nothing, O thou with the eyes ofa gazelle: for it may be he himself, that would suffer most by ourmeeting. Then said Aranyani: It is exactly this I fear. For I would nothave thee harm him, even though my fear is all for thee. And Atirupasaid: There is a very easy way to solve this difficulty, and deprivethee of all cause of fear, which has not yet occurred to thee. AndAranyani said: What is that? And Atirupa said: It is only in this woodthat we could ever meet each other. But what if thou shouldst come awaywith me, O thou delicious little slave, leaving the wood behind thee, toa place he cannot reach?
II
And then, Aranyani started, and looked at him with eyes that were filledwith timidity and dismay, as if she hardly understood. And after awhile, she said: What! come away with thee! it is impossible. And shegazed at him in terror, while Atirupa looked at her steadily, withcaressing impenetrable eyes. And he murmured to himself: Now, then, Ihave startled my beautiful and timid fawn, but the seed is for all thatsown in her beating heart. And now, then, we shall see, whether I canget her, by persuasion and caresses and cajolery, to come away of herown accord; or whether, as I do not wish, I shall have to carry her offby force. For she will be far sweeter if she yields herself, even thoughreluctant, than if I have to make her come away, whether she will or no.And presently he said gently: Dear Aranyani, dost thou imagine thateither I can live without thee, or remain for ever in thy wood? For evenas it is, I have been living in the wood, on thy account, for many days,at a distance from my capital, neglecting all my state affairs; and longago my ministers must have wondered, what can have become of me. So oftwo things, one is absolutely necessary: and either thou must come away,or we must part.
And Aranyani looked at him steadily, turning very pale. And she murmuredin bewilderment: Part! Thou and I! And Atirupa said: Dear, thou seest,the very notion makes thee pale. Then what will it be to part, inreality? Couldst thou endure to live without me? Or can I live for everin the wood? Then what remains but this alone, to leave the woodthyself, and come with me, since there is absolutely no other way?
And Aranyani drew herself away, out of his arms; and she stood, lookingdown upon the ground, silent, and very pale: while Atirupa watched her,standing still, with eyes that never left her for an instant. And aftera while, he said again: Dear Aranyani, couldst thou actually think, itcould continue thus for ever, or that I could remain for ever, as I amdoing now, camping in the wood, and coming every day to see thee?
And Aranyani sighed, and she said very slowly, still looking at theground: I know not, for I have thought of absolutely nothing, since Isaw thee, but thyself; and that was enough for me, and more; since mysoul was so full that it had room for nothing else. And all the past hadvanished, and the future did not matter, swallowed up in the presentwhich was ecstasy, and intoxication, and thou. How could I think ofanything at all? And now thou hast suddenly awaked me from a dream,which in my folly I had imagined would never have an end, but last forever. And lo! it is gone, and all is over, and finished, almost beforeit has begun.
And Atirupa said in a whisper: Say rather, O Aranyani, that the dream isonly just beginning.
And she answered angrily: Dost thou think it then so easy for a flowerto consent to be torn up by the roots, and carried from its home nomatter where? For like a flower I am rooted in this wood, where I havelived and grown since the beginning, with my father and the trees, andthe creepers, and the deer. And now thou hast placed thyself, with asudden flash of lightning, in opposition to it all; and thou wouldstmake me choose, threatening to go away and leave me, unless I sacrificeit all, to go into the darkness, I know not where, with thee. Dost thouthink the choice is easy which will utterly destroy me, whichever way itfalls? Thou
art the cause of all, and resemblest a knife, that bids meto consent and rejoice, while it cuts my heart in two, possessingabsolutely no heart whatever of its own.
And Atirupa said gently: Alas! Aranyani, thou art utterly unjust, andthis was my very fear, that when I offered thee to choose between thewood, which is thy past, and myself, who am thy future, I should seem tothee utterly of no account, and light in the balance, weighed againstwhat I asked thee to resign. I say, thou blamest me unjustly, when I amabsolutely blameless, unless indeed it be a fault, to love thee, forwhich not I, but thyself, or rather the Creator is to blame, for makingthee exactly what thou art. Who can blame the butter for melting in theflame, or make it a crime in the ocean, for rising in tumult andagitation at the sight of the tender digit of the moon? Is it my fault,if I must go away, since after all my kingdom is in need of me, and evenas it is, I have remained here too long, and all on thy account? Andwhat can I do but ask thee to come with me, since unless we are to part,there is absolutely nothing else to do? And does not every maiden do thesame? Did not Shakuntala abandon her home and her relations in theforest, to follow King Dushmanta? And did not even the Daughter of theSnow abandon, not only her father, but even her own body, for the sakeof the Moony-crested god? And art thou fearful, O thou intoxicatingchild, to go into the dark? But what will darkness matter? nay, will notthe dark itself become nectar, provided I am there? Or rather, will notthe darkness be still darker, and gloomier, and blacker, if I go awayand leave thee by thyself?
III
And Aranyani stood for a moment, when he ended; and then all at once shesank down upon the ground, and hid her face in her two hands, and beganto sob. And after a while she said in agitation: What hast thou done tome? For till I saw thee, I was happy; and now I am torn by thee utterlyin two. For I cannot bear to part either with thee, or with my fatherand my home. And now I could wish never to have seen thee, and well hadit been, if thy servant never had set eyes on me, to tell thee, andbring thee to the wood. Why hast thou come hither to destroy me? For allhas come about exactly as Babhru said and feared, when he foretold thatthy coming would be my utter ruin.
And Atirupa listened, and he murmured to himself: She has fallen intothe snare, by avowing her vacillation, and allowing herself to debate,instead of repudiating my proposal: and now it will be my own fault, ifI cannot turn the scale in my own favour, by playing on her agitatedheart. And he said coldly: Ha! then, as I thought, it is Babhru whocauses all the trouble; and he it is, whom thou art so unwilling toresign.
And instantly Aranyani started up, and exclaimed with vehemence andindignation: What! dost thou taunt me, dost thou actually dare to tauntme, with Babhru, whom I have sacrificed without a thought to thee? Alas!poor Babhru. Little does he resemble thee, for so far from taking meaway, he would live at my bidding even in a desert, and give up ahundred kingdoms, if he had them, for my sake. And Atirupa said: Then beit as thou wilt, for I will not be his rival. Go with him to thydesert, and I will go to mine.
And he turned, as if to go away in anger. But as he went, Aranyanisprang towards him with a shriek. And she seized him by the arm, andshook it passionately, exclaiming: Away with Babhru! O forgive me, for Iam mad, and I know not what I say or do. What is Babhru in comparisonwith thee? Only be not angry, and do not go, do not leave me, for thygoing is my death. And she clutched him, and caught him by the neck, anddrawing his face violently down to her, she began to kiss him withoutceasing, mingling the rain of her kisses with the shower of her tears.And after a while, she drew back, and holding his neck very tightly withher left arm, she gazed intently at his face, as if in meditation,drawing her finger slowly all around it, and over each eyebrow, andround and round his mouth, over and over again. And then all at once shethrew her right arm also round his neck, and hid her face upon hisbreast, exclaiming, while her own breast beat like a wave upon hisheart: Either thou never shouldst have come, or shouldst never go away.
And Atirupa stood quietly, supporting her in his arms, and allowing herto do with him exactly as she pleased. And finally, he stroked her hairgently with his hand, and murmured to himself: Now very soon, I think,she will consent, as it were without consenting, to come away, after alittle coaxing. And he said aloud: Dear Aranyani, it is not I that amtearing thee in two, as thou sayest: but it is rather thou thyself thatart pulling thy soul to pieces, utterly without a cause. Truly wonderfulis love, that fills his victims with fears that are absurd, and makesthem see before them dangers that do not exist at all!
And all at once Aranyani raised her head, and began to laugh, looking athim strangely, and saying to herself: These were my very words toBabhru, only an hour ago. And Atirupa said: Now, then, thou artlaughing, equally without a cause: but why? And she said: It is nothing.Then he said: Is it thy reason returning to thee that makes thee laughinstead of weep? For why should it so frighten and disturb thee, tothink of leaving all behind for me? Dost thou think I cannot give theecompensation, ten thousand times over, for all thou lettest go? Then ofwhat art thou afraid?
And Aranyani raised her head, and looked fixedly straight into his eyes,and yet strange! seeing nothing, for her soul was absent, thinking notof him at all, but of Babhru. And she said within herself: Can it be,that what Babhru is to me, that I am to another, and that of every pairof lovers, one only loves? And what then will be my fate, if I followhim in spite of all, only to discover, that just as I left Babhru in thelurch, so I myself shall be abandoned, it may be, for some other woman'ssake? And at the thought, she shuddered, and grew cold all over, andturned suddenly paler than a waning moon.
IV
And Atirupa saw it, and was puzzled, understanding nothing of what waspassing in her soul. And he drew her, half-resisting, once more towardshim, and began again to caress her hair, saying as he did so, veryslowly: Aranyani, thou art in very truth, for thy timidity and thy eyes,own sister to the deer: and yet, somehow, I would not have it otherwise,for thy timidity is not less beautiful than those great eyes which itfills with apprehension and distrust: and wert thou brave, thy soft bodywould not quiver, to fill me with emotion, nor should I now be tasting,as I kiss thee, the salt beauty of those pearls, thy tears. Stand still,then, a little while, O pretty little coward, and if thou wilt, trembleyet a little in my arms, and grow calm, and let me reassure thee: forthou takest fright at the noise of every rustling leaf, not stopping toconsider, whether there be really anything to injure thee or no. And nowlet me ask thee: I have told thee who I am, and shown thee many thingseven of thyself, that were unknown to thee: for so far from beingstrangers, we are actually kin. And why then shouldst thou fear to comeaway? for to whom shouldst thou come, if not to thy own kindred? Andyet, that is the very reason why I cannot ask thy father for thee. Fordost thou think, should I go to him, and ask him, he would bestow theeon me, or let thee go away? Say, would he consent? And Aranyani said, ina low voice: If, as thou hast told me, thou really art the son of Jaya,then rather would he see me lying dead at his feet. And Atirupa said:Thou seest. Yet why should thou and I be enemies, because our parentswere? And what then, O Aranyani, of the other? Would thy Babhru let theego? And she said: Nay, rather would he slay thee, or himself, or it maybe even me. Then said Atirupa: O foolish one, canst thou then not bringthyself to comprehend, that since I must absolutely go, and none willlet thee go, either thou must come away with me, or stay here bythyself? And yet, when I show thee the necessity, thou art ready toconsume me like a straw in the flame of thy reproaches. What then?Wouldst thou have me go away secretly, saying nothing? And wouldst thounot then exclaim against me as a traitor, never seeing me return? Anddost thou think it easy for me to go away, leaving thee behind? I tellthee, I cannot go away without thee, and yet I cannot stay. Then onlytell me, what to do. Say, little cousin, why wilt thou fear to come awaywith me? I marvel rather that thou dost not fear to stay. What wilt thoudo alone, when I am gone? Will thy father console thee for my absence,thy father who leaves thee all alone? or will Babhru make up to thee forthy sending me away? I tell thee, they w
ill both become so hateful inthy sight, that thou wilt run away of thy own accord, merely to escapefrom them, no matter where. And then thou wilt bitterly regret thyscruples, all too late, having lost the opportunity that never willreturn; for if I go without thee, I shall never come again. But my imagewill haunt thee, and follow thee about like a shadow, to darken all thylife, and instead of a rapture ever present, I shall be to thee a memoryof bitterness, and everlasting self-reproach, and vain remorse. And thouwilt grow gradually older, alone, being in thy own eyes a thingintolerable, as having cast away a priceless gem, deliciouscompanionship, friendship and affection, that Fortune herself fishedthee from the deep, only to see her present thrown, with ingratitude,by thee, away. And in thy loneliness thou wilt seek in vain to flee evenfrom thyself, and it may be, judging thy life utterly unendurable, thouwilt seek refuge from its horror in a death of thy own contriving,having missed the very fruit of thy birth, and ending like a blunder ofthe Creator, and a thing that had better not have been.
V
And as he spoke, he felt Aranyani on his breast, sobbing till she shookhim, as if to say, Cease, for thou art driving a knife into my heart.And yet he went on slowly, as if his very object were to stab her to thequick. And then, all at once he changed. And he whispered in her ear:Dear cousin, why dost thou so obstinately destroy thyself and me? What!dost thou make believe to love me, calling thyself slave, and yet refuseto follow me wherever I may go? Or dost thou think that thou artdreaming, mistaking a shadow for reality, expecting suddenly to wake,and find nothing in thy arms, and thy vision of happiness a phantom,vanishing like the picture in the desert, leaving nothing but the sand?Thou resemblest a very foolish little deer, that for idle fear offalling victim to delusion, should absolutely refuse to drink, even at apool. O deer, what can ever convince thee of the reality of water, ifthou wilt not believe, even when thou art actually standing, as atpresent, knee-deep in the lake? Must the very future become present,before thou wilt trust thyself to credit what it holds? But thou askestimpossibility, and like every other maiden, thou canst not experiencethe future till it comes. Hast thou, then, no faith in me at all? Out,out, upon the love that cannot trust! O Aranyani, surely thy love isvery small, and a mere imitation and counterfeit of love: for as a rule,true love is tested by its power of putting faith in what it loves. See,then, thou unbeliever, I will try to bring the future before thy veryeyes, and as I did before, when I told of the life that lay before theeby thyself, so now will I paint for thee another picture, to show theean image of that life that thou wilt forfeit, by sending me away alone.
And he paused for a moment, as if reflecting on his coming words. But hemurmured to himself: I feel that she is hesitating, and trembling in thebalance; resembling a fruit that fears to fall, yet knows that its verynature dooms it to be eaten, and is half inclined on that account todrop of its own accord. And now, with a little shaking, she will dropinto my hand: since like a very woman, she cannot say either yes or no,wishing to be forced along the path which all the while she longs, yetis terribly afraid, to tread. And now then will I bait the hook withflattery, and we shall see whether this golden fish will not swallow itas greedily as all her silver sisters, resembling as they do delicateand fragile foolish ware that sells itself in a market created by itsown vanity, where false coin passes easily without detection, and iseven more potent and valuable than true. And yet in her case, flatteryis very easy, for the grossest is only the simple truth.
And presently he said, in a very low voice: Aranyani, tell me: am Ibeautiful? And she said, after a while, with her face hidden in hisbreast: Why ask me to repeat what I have told thee in every way athousand times already? Then he said: And does it not occur to thee,that thou givest me what I give thee? And so we are a pair, for if mybeauty is an idol to thee, what else is thine to me? But thou, allignorant of thy own extraordinary charm, art incredulous, notunderstanding that I also am a devotee to the spell of thy dreamy eyes,and the aromatic fragrance of thy hair, and the clinging prison of thysoft round arms, and the taste of thy delicious lips, whose kisses cool,like snowflakes, by their leaf-like half involuntary fall, the burningcaused by the touch of thy trembling breast, when it beats on my heartlike the surge of the sea. And should we separate, that were made forone another like Maheshwara and the Daughter of the Snow? Nay, we willrather grow together, thou, like the creeper, clinging ever to me, justas thou art doing now, indistinguishable from the tree which is myself.And thou shrinkest from the darkness, but I will be thy darkness and thynight, O thou slender digit of the moon. What wouldst thou do withoutthy night, O moon? Or didst thou say, thyself, thou wert a flower? Well,thou shalt be my blue lotus, and I will be thy pool: looking into which,thou shalt see thy own reflection, and rejoice. Or, if thou wilt, I willplay the river, and thou shalt be the silver swan that floats upon itsbreast. What! wilt thou take from the river all its beauty, by refusingto float upon the water that only longs to be adorned by so beautiful aburden? Or better still, thou shalt be my mango blossom, and I, thy madblack bee, living only to plunder my shy sweet blossom of itsintoxicating wine; aye, without thee, I should indeed resemble a goldencup, without the wine that gives it all its use and worth. Thou art thesalt, of me the ocean, and the pearl within my shell: and with thee, Ishall be a very Wishnu, with thee, for my Fortune and my Shri. And likea word, I should be utterly meaningless without thee, who art my meaningand my soul. And wouldst thou separate, and sever me from thee? Nay,nay, O cousin, we will live together, not like accidental waifs thathaply meet to part again upon the waves of time, but rather like twohappy children playing King and Queen, drifting in a golden boat alongthe crystal stream of life, never so much as touching on a shoal, butgliding on, sometimes plying silver oars, and sometimes spreading apurple sail to catch the sandal-scented breeze that blows from Malayaloaded with the lazy odour of the South, letting all the hours slip pastus unperceived, till we float away together into the open sea of Death.
VI
And as he murmured, holding Aranyani in arms that added emphasis by theaffection of their pressure to the persuasion of his voice, all at onceshe tore herself away from him abruptly, and went and stood, at a littledistance, by herself, silent, and looking out upon the sand. And Atirupastood still, watching her with curious, half passionate, halfmeditative eyes. And he said within himself: She is standing on the veryedge of the precipice, into which she is just about to fall, irresolute,and dizzy, and distracted by an arbitration which she dares not settleeither way, not so much out of desire to go, or stay, but rather becauseshe is equally unable and unwilling, either to stay, or go: and in theagony of her beautiful perplexity, she is craving to be delivered fromthe choice, by having the matter settled for her: and now, the weighteven of a hair would turn the scale. And he drew near slowly, and said,after a while: Hast thou forgotten, O cousin, that there will be nofarewell to say to thy surroundings, though thou shouldst leave themnow? For there is absolutely nothing to prevent thee from returning tovisit them, as often as thou wilt. But still she answered nothing,remaining with her back turned towards him, exactly as before.
And once again he said: Aranyani, dost thou hear me? I do not ask theeto say goodbye for ever to the wood.
And he waited for a while, and at last, as she never either moved orspoke, he said again: Since, then, thou art absolutely determined, andthy mind is made up to let me go away alone: it is well. So, now, thereis nothing left, but for me to go. And I must absolutely depart,whether I will or no. For my kingdom requires me, and my retinue iswaiting at the bottom of the hill, to bring me over the sand. Andsometimes in the wood thou wilt remember me, and it may be, offer waterto the ghost of our dead happiness, and the love that might have been,for in this wood I cannot live, and if thou wilt not come away, it isuseless to return. So bid me but farewell, and I will go, and thou shaltnever see me more.
And then she turned. And she put out her hand towards him, as if withentreaty, and made a single step, and all at once she swayed, and wouldhave fallen, but that he caug
ht her in his arms. And she said, in avoice so low as scarcely to be heard: Take me, if thou must, andquickly, for in another moment, I think that my heart will break in two.
And then, she sank down, bereft of her reason, and lay in his arms in aswoon.
And Atirupa stood for a moment, looking down upon her, as he held her inhis arms. And he said to himself, as if half in irresolution: So, then,it is over, and I have conquered, and she has yielded, and is mine. Andyet, somehow or other, I feel, in this instance, a touch of somethingthat resembles pity, and there is as it were a sting, resembling that ofa bee, mixed with my honey, which I never felt before. For after all,she is my own relation. And what will she do, when she finds out hermistake? And yet, after all, the mischief is done, and now it is toolate. For as it seems, she will break her heart, in a little while,whether she goes away with me, or not.
And then, he lifted her in his arms, and went away quickly through thetrees, down the hill.