CHAPTER IV.
So they led Tara forth and placed her in the open palankeen, and, asthey decked her with flowers, and strewed garlands over its canopy, thetemple music struck up a joyous marriage measure. Then, as the bearersmoved gently forward, her father and mother holding the sides of thelitter, the priests arranged themselves on all sides of it, and begananother solemn chant of victory to the goddess.
By this time, news of the event had passed on into the town, and it wasthe hour when all the people were astir. Men and women, collected ingroups, heard strange tales of how the goddess had appeared to Tara andtaken her away to heaven; again, that she had died before the shrine,and they were bringing away her body. The general conviction was, thatshe had died, and many women, collected in knots, were weeping bitterlyand beating their breasts. But as the temple trumpets and conchs blewa sudden and quivering blast, and the glad music was heard with thechant, now rising, now falling, as the procession slowly ascendedthe steps, and traversed the court,--and at last, as it emerged fromthe gateway and entered the broad street which led to the centre ofthe town,--the popular enthusiasm knew no bounds. "Jey Toolja!" "JeyKalee!" "Bome! Bome!" the cries of victory--were taken up from thosewho led the procession, leaping and shouting. Many ran for incense orfor garlands: men and women thronged from street and alley and joinedthe procession as it moved up; others stood upon the terraces of theirhouses and waved garments or handkerchiefs, or hung out cloths from thebalconies and windows. "Jey Toolja!" "Jey Bhowani!" shouted all whocame. Pilgrims from the Ganges, Sunniasis holding aloft their witheredarms; Gosaees with their orange clothes and matted locks, strange,wild, eerie folk,--issued from archways where they had slept, or vaultswhere they had lodged; and still the crowd swelled, and the shouting,and through all, and over all, the solemn chant and the hoarse andshrill quivering notes of the trumpets.
Few knew why this was, but the procession advanced out of the templegate, so it belonged to it; and as the girl passed, seated calmly nowin her litter, flowers were cast on her, incense was burned before her,and fragrant powder thrown over her, with blessings. Her old friends,the flower-sellers, emptied their morning baskets of jessamine overher, and touched her feet reverentially; and the old confectioner, whohad always kept a sweet morsel for his young friend, threw showers ofcomfits upon her litter, and in his excitement generously flung thecontents of his baskets among the crowd.
So they passed on, through the eastern gate, and over the plain whichled to the Pap-nas temple, and the sun was now rising over the distantpurple hills in great glory among gorgeous golden clouds. As the firstbeams fell upon the procession, the priests changed their hymn to thatin adoration of the Sun, from the Vedas, which we adopt from a freetranslation:--
"Risen in majestic blaze, Lo, the Universe's eye, Vast and wondrous host of rays, Shineth brightly in the sky.
* * * * *
"See, he followeth the Dawn, Brilliant in the path above, As a youth by beauty drawn Seeks the maiden of his love.
"Hear us, O ye gods, this day! Hear us graciously, we pray; As the Sun his state begins, Free us from all heinous sins.
"Mitra, Varun, Aditi-- Hear, O hear us graciously! Powers of Ocean, Earth, and Air, Listen, listen, to our prayer."[3]
And the people still shouted the cry of the goddess, or joined in thehymn of the priests, till the small temple was reached.
The ceremonies there were brief and simple. Tara bathed in thesin-cleansing basin, but she would not change her wet garments, stillresisting her mother. Once more were holy texts and incantations saidover her by all the priests collectively; and for the last time theyled her round and round the little shrine and court of the spring,chanting a hymn of praise; her father leading, but submitting to theold priest who has already been mentioned. It was finished, and hernew life began. The excitement which had possessed her and carried heron was already passing away, and giving place to a sick weariness andirrepressible languor, which not only her face but her limbs expressed.
"She will need careful tending for a long time, brother," said theold priest to her father. "Give her a cooling drink of toolsee andtamarinds, sweetened with honey; put her into dry clothes, and let herrest quietly; she may not even speak for many days; for so I have knownit. Let us take her home."
"I am thankful to ye all, friends and brethren," said the Shastree,much affected. "This manifestation hath filled me with many cares, forwe were not votaries of the goddess. Now she hath come into the house,and the service she exacts is rigid, yet we will obey and do her will.If ye will depart and leave us, take my blessing."
"Nay, say not so," cried all who were near. "Let us take her home; andin honour and duty let this rite be finished." So the procession wasagain formed, and in the same order that it had reached the temple,it again returned to the town-gate, and wound through the streets,thronged with curious gazers, to the door of the Shastree's dwelling,where the priest and Brahmuns were dismissed with thanks and those onlyremained who were specially bidden to do so.
Tara's exhaustion had been increasing since the ceremony was concluded;and the wet garments about her, which had not been felt while theexcitement lasted, now struck a chill into her which even dry clothes,cast over her by her mother, did not remove. She could not speak,and could hardly move from the litter as it was set down; and when,supported by her mother and the servants, she reached the innerapartment, she sank helplessly in her mother's arms. But she was nowin gentle, careful hands, and at rest; and though she did not speak asyet, her grateful looks ere long expressed all the consciousness hermother longed to see.
She had ever after only a confused recollection of what had occurred;and even as they came home there was a vacancy in her look which hadseriously alarmed her parents. Her father could remember many suchvotaries, in whom the light of reason had been utterly quenched, andhe trembled for his daughter. We can account for the occurrence byrational causes: a long-continued mental excitement and suppressed carebrought on by the nature of her own belief in, to her, that goddessof dread power, yet of sympathy with human requirements,--and itshysterical effect; but to her father, and more so to her mother, asalso to all the priests of the temple and people of the town, it was amanifestation of the divine interest, and a claiming of the girl forher own peculiar service.
We will not follow the conference between the Shastree and his friends,which related to ceremonies to be performed and sacrifices to beoffered: nothing must be neglected. One of them was the resident agentof the spiritual prince before alluded to, who had only a few daysbefore delivered the friendly warning, now unneeded. "The Mother hathsettled this matter herself, friends," he said, "and no one can resistit; we will write collectively to the 'Swami,' and tell him of it;he, too, will be assured that this divine favour is the result ofVyas Shastree's piety, and his daughter's devotion to religious rites;better this than worldly allurements and ties, sweet as they are."
There was no dissentient voice. Nor in the town, nor among the caste,could any one impugn the act. It had been involuntary and public.Thousands had witnessed it, and they bore testimony of the holy fervourwhich had animated all who accompanied Tara from the temple. All seemedto have caught a portion of the divine manifestation and enthusiasm.
So every one said that the beautiful daughter of Vyas Shastree hadbecome a Moorlee or priestess of the temple, and that the goddessherself had called her from her disgrace of widowhood to the glory ofher own service. Was not this better than worldly ties? Now she wasfree!
Did Tara think so? It was many weeks ere the feverish excitement passedaway, during which the loving eyes glowed with unnatural lustre, and afierce fire seemed to possess her. It was to be expected; and she hadskilful and tender attendance. With perfect rest and quiet, and simpleremedies, it would pass away, they said, and it did so gradually, andTara arose weaker, but calm. By-and-by she would be allowed to make hersacrificial offerings, but not yet; and till then her beloved books,the h
ousehold worship, and occupation, were enough to occupy her.
"Time enough," said the old Pundit, who frequently visited her and hadbecome interested in her, "with a life of service to be done. When youare strong you shall come to us, but not till then."
Was Tara satisfied? If the dread of her shame had been removed, thevoid in her heart had not as yet been filled; but the new life had tobegin, and she would do her best, and so she comforted herself.
Were others satisfied? Yes. As we have said, most who knew her enviedher lot, but some sneered, and already shook their heads.
One man had looked at the distraught girl, as she was placed in thelitter and covered with garlands, who was satisfied, yet not as therest. More beautiful in the unconsciousness of her excitement than hehad ever seen her before,--far more so, to his sight, than she hadever appeared while ordinarily attending the temple worship with hermother, and where he had watched her for months past, Moro Trimmul hadjoined the throng in order to observe her better. Being a Brahmun, hehad closed up to the edge of the litter bare-headed and unnoticed,singing the hymns as one of the attendant priests, and had thus beenable to accompany the procession, gloating upon the girl's lovelinesswith an unholy desire. As the litter was taken up he fell out of theprocession, and, watching it depart, sat down alone on the edge ofthe cliff looking over the plain, and by the side of the small streamwhich, issuing from the Pap-nas temple, fell down the face of the rockin a sheet of foam. A girl's voice aroused him from a reverie which wedare not follow.
"So the Pundit is not dancing back to the town as he came out, beforethe new Moorlee," she said ironically.
"Nor thou either, Gunga. Dost thou not welcome a new priestess?"
"I marvel at it," she continued, with a sneer; "thou wast lookingenough at her. I dance before her? When she dances with us before theMother, then she will be a true Moorlee--not else. Now I hate her; Ishall always hate her."
"Ah! she will never join ye," he returned; "she is of another sort thanthe rest of ye: Gunga, thou art jealous of her beauty, girl."
"By the Holy Mother, she shall not remain so, Moro Trimmul. She--awidow--to think of setting herself above us! That cat-faced girl! Ifshe has chosen to serve the Mother she must obey her rules, and be oneof us. Think ye we will let her come there unless she is?"
The Brahmun shook his head. "I was thinking about her," he said,absently.
The girl sighed. "I thought so," she replied, "and thou wilt love me nomore--no more now. Is it not so? say it, if it is to be so."
"Love thee!" returned the man, bitterly--"yes, as thou canst beloved--by gold. Hark ye, Gunga, make her as thou art; get her into mypower, and I will give thee a waist-belt of gold."
"As heavy as hers?" cried the girl, excitedly.
"Thou shalt weigh the one against the other and thine shalt turn thescale--will that content thee?"
"Wilt thou?--shall it? Swear on my neck and my feet to give this, andI will do thy will. Yes, to humble her pride and her father's--whodrove me from the temple one day, and I have hated him ever since. Ishall hate thee too, afterwards; yet I will do it," cried the girl,excitedly, clapping her hands--"yet I will do it."
"I swear," said the man, touching her neck. "Come and sit here by me."She did so, but neither spoke for some time.
"Thou hast a sister, Moro Pundit, and she is beautiful. She ought tohave been married ere this. A little more time, and can it be done?"she said, breaking the silence.
The Brahmun winced. "She was betrothed once," he said, "but the mandied."
"Perhaps she was married," continued the girl, with a sneer, "and sheis as Tara Bye, or worse. Is it not so?"
"No! by the Holy Mother, no!" cried the Pundit, sharply, and withflashing eyes. "Breathe such a thing and I will have thy life. Bewarewhat thou sayest, even to me! A word more, and I fling thee down theprecipice!"
"O, I fear not for my life," said the girl, carelessly, "the Mothertakes care of that, and I will say nothing, lest I should lose mypretty gold zone. But what of thy sister? The Shastree wants a newwife, we hear; Anunda Bye wants a son to cheer her and him, and whyshould not thy sister be taken there? If I do not err, she can have herchance. She is of a good age--why not? Could she understand what to do?Could she be taught?"
"Ah!" said the Pundit, abstractedly, "I had thought of it too, but itseemed impossible. I do not know him--yes--if----"
"If?--why if? Art thou afraid? The girl is here--let me see her andknow her, and leave the rest to us."
"Gunga," said the Brahmun, after a pause. "If thou canst bring thisabout--if thou canst get me speech of this Shastree----"
"Let me speak to the girl first. 'Radha,' that is her name, is it not?Let me see if she is resolute and as I hear of her. If she be, sheshall have her desire; thou shalt have thine; and I--ah, yes! I willhave more gold. Yes," she cried, clapping her hands again, "more gold!I will have gold anklets, like Tara's. Why should she wear gold ankletsand mine be only silver? Wilt thou give them?--all I can hope, now shehath taken thy love from me----"
"When my sister is Vyas Shastree's wife thou mayst have what thou wilt,Gunga. I swear it to thee on thy neck and feet. Art thou content? Yes,thou shalt see her now. Manage the matter as ye will, women's wits aresharper than mine. Now follow me unobserved," he said, rising.
"Once more, Moro Pundit," continued Gunga, "tell me if the marriage canbe performed now? Is there a fitting conjunction of planets?--within amonth?"
"Yes; till the Now Ratree; after that not for a long time."
"Enough to do, enough to do, in the time," muttered the girl toherself. "Hast thou any women with thee--any relations?"
"Yes, her mother's sister--a widow; no more. Our mother is dead, myfather is dead, and there are only ourselves left of a large family."
"Then the Shastree will like the connection all the better, and--ye arerich, they say. Yes, I will bring the widow and Anunda together."
"We have enough. In that respect I can satisfy the Shastree fully."
"Ah! he will ask no questions. His wife is shrewd and clever, and willguide him," she replied; "but he will be careful about the horoscope ofthy sister, for he is a great astrologer."
"My aunt is wise, as you will find when you know her; and as for therest, Gunga, it is in my hands. I, too, am an astrologer and can castRadha's nativity as I please."
The girl laughed heartily. "Yes, it will answer," she said. "Now goby that path; we must not be seen together. I will come to thee beforenoon; we have no time to lose. Only remember thine oath, Moro Trimmul,and beware how thou triest to evade or deceive me. I would not hurtthee willingly; and for the sake of----. No matter now," she continued,gulping down what was rising in her throat, "no matter now. It isgone--I see no more of it in thine eyes."
"I am in thy hands, Gunga, and may be trusted," he replied; "nay, more,there may be better days for thee yet, girl----"
"No--no more. No more like the old ones," she said, shaking her headmournfully. "Only the gold now--only the gold!"
FOOTNOTE:
[3] "Specimens of Old Indian Poetry, translated from the originalSanskrit." By R. T. H. Griffith, A.M.
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