XII
And when I got home, I threw myself on my bed, and instantly fell fast asleep, for I was worn out by emotion and fatigue: and my slumber resembled the deep peace of my own heart. And a little before the dawn, I woke up, and went out, wandering where my footsteps led me, with a soul lost in meditation on Táráwalí, bathed in the nectar of reminiscence and anticipation, and yet puzzled by a doubt that it could not resolve. And I said to myself as I went along: How in the world can a queen like her, who laughs all other women to utter scorn, for beauty and understanding and gentleness and sweetness, and some unintelligible magic charm that is somehow spread all over her, and echoes in the tone of her delicious voice that makes every fibre of my heart tremble every time I hear it; how can such a queen as she show such extraordinary favour to such a thing as me? For I could understand it, if it were any other man. For then I should say that beyond all doubt, she actually preferred him to all others in the world, for sheer affection. And yet, as it is, it is quite incomprehensible. For, it might seem, that she must be in love with me herself, returning my affection: and yet it cannot be. For how could such a miracle as she is, the supreme achievement of the Creator, and the concentrated essence of the charm of all her sex, think of such a one as me, even in a dream, as an object of affection? And yet, if not, how is her behaviour to be explained? For I might perhaps believe that she was merely playing with me for her own amusement, were she any other woman than exactly the one she is: but as it is, no one could believe it that had ever seen her for an instant: and she needs no other argument in her defence than every glance at her supplies. And it may be, after all, that she took up with Narasinha merely out of pique, at being so unceremoniously slighted and cast off as a thing of no value by her booby of a husband, and, as it were, also out of gratitude to find herself appreciated at her true value, which she must very well understand notwithstanding all her own beautiful self-depreciation, which is an extra charm enhancing all her other charms: and afterwards, it may be, she has changed her mind, as women do, about Narasinha, without being willing to admit it, even to herself; and come, only the other day, suddenly on me. Aye! beyond a doubt, this would be the true conclusion, and the answer to the riddle, but for one consideration that makes it utterly impossible, that I am only I.
And so as I debated with myself, all at once I heard my own name called aloud in the air. And I looked up, and lo! there was my old friend Haridása,[26] on a camel. And he said: Ha! Shatrunjaya, art thou thyself indeed, or another exactly like thee, or hast thou lost thy senses and thy ears? For here have I been calling to thee, all along the street, without succeeding in waking thee from thy dream, till now. And what can it be, that can so fill thy mind as to stop up all its entrances?
And I exclaimed in delight: Ah! Haridása, thou art come in the very nick of time, the very man, at this moment, that I need most. Get off thy camel, for a while, and come and sit beside me, and find me, if thou canst, an answer to a question that I cannot find myself. And so he did. And as soon as we were seated by the roadside, I said to him: Haridása, listen. Thou knowest me well. Now tell me thy opinion: am I one that a woman might choose out of many for a lover?
And Haridása began to laugh. And he looked at me shrewdly, and he said: Aha! Shatrunjaya the lute-player, so this was thy preoccupation? Art thou one to catch a woman's fancy? O Shatrunjaya, why not? For art thou not a musician, famous in the world, and a man among men, into the bargain? All women love a giant, such as thou art. Any woman of them all might do worse than fall in love with thee. And yet thy very question shows, that in this matter of women, thou art little better than a child, as indeed thou always wert. For even the Deity himself can never tell what man any woman will prefer, or why: as how should he, seeing that she does not even know, herself? And there never yet existed any man whom some woman would not worship, let him be as ugly as you please, or even for that very reason: and yet, let a man be a very Kámadewa, woman after woman will pass him by, without even so much as casting a glance at him out of the very corner of her eye. For a woman's affection depends on her fancy, and that is like the wind, that comes and goes and wavers how and where it will, without a reason that anybody can discover. And it is sheer waste of time to sit and wonder, whether thou art or art not a man that a woman might love. Thou art both, or neither: for the only way to settle thy question is to try. And she will, or she will not, of her own accord. And now, who is she, this beauty who has set thee so knotty a problem to solve?
And I said with indifference: There is no such beauty; for all my perplexity arose from the line of an old song: Nectar when she turns towards thee: poison when she turns away.
And Haridása turned sharp towards me, and looked at me intently for a very long while, saying absolutely nothing. And we sat talking of other things till he rose to go away. And then, at the very moment he was mounting on his camel, he turned, and came back. And he said: Listen! Thou art hiding from me something that maybe I could startle thee by guessing: but no matter. Keep thy secret: but listen to a piece of good advice, which may serve thee at a pinch. If ever thou wouldst have a woman prize thee, never let her see that thou settest any store by her. Treat her as a straw, and she will run after thee as if thou wert a magnet: make thyself her slave, and she will hold thee cheap, and discard thee for another. For women think meanly of their sex, and utterly despise the man who places them above himself: since in her heart every woman longs to be a man, bewailing her misfortune in being born a woman, and praying all her life for one thing only, to be born a man in another birth. And one thing above all she cannot understand, how or why any man should make a fuss about any woman, as all men do: which, just because she is not a man herself, she cannot comprehend. And like jugglers, that are not taken in by their own tricks, women look upon men as mere fools, for being taken in at all. For a woman's charm, to a woman, is not only not a charm at all, but a trick, and a lure, understood, and utterly despised. So now, be a man, and whatever folly thou art meditating, at least beware of being guilty of the very greatest of them all, by doubting of thy own superiority of manhood to the womanhood of any woman, no matter who she be: and earning her contempt, by lying at her feet. And now, farewell! for I have business with Narasinha.
And at the name of Narasinha, I pricked up my ears. And I said, with feigned indifference: Who is Narasinha?
And Haridása spat upon the ground. And he said: One, whom thou art lucky not to know: and yet, his name is apropos. For he is the Queen's lover, and an instance in point: since he leads her by a string, just because he treats her as a trifle, and not, as all her other lovers do, as a gem not to be matched by any other in the sea. And yet he is not, like thee, a man among men, but a man among women. For just as a dancing-girl loves to be treated as a queen, so does a queen love to be treated as a dancing-girl.
And then, all at once, he struck me on the shoulder. And he said, in a low voice: Why didst thou start, when I named Narasinha?
And without waiting for any answer, he got quickly on his camel, and rode away, never looking back.