XIV
And I said to myself in ecstasy, as she disappeared: Out on the very notion of leaving Táráwalí in the lurch, and losing the very essence of the nectar of the lady of my dream, so kind, so clever, and so wonderful as she is! Well did she understand, how the very sight of this audacious little chetí would act like a balm on the fever of my longing for herself: carrying about with her, as she does, a reminiscence of the intoxicating fragrance of the great champak flower, whose messenger she is, like a female bee, scattering another's honey as she goes. Aye! Chaturiká is like a letter, smelling of the sandal of the hand that wrote it, far away. And Táráwalí understood it all, and sent her; not being jealous, as Chaturiká says, and indeed, as she said herself, last night. As if a star of heaven could possibly be jealous of a little Ganges pot![27] Aye! little did my mother dream, when she sent to fetch me, what influence she had against her. As if I would purchase any kingdom in the world at the price of sacrificing my sunset with the Queen! And how can I help it, if the King my father chose just this unlucky astrological conjunction, to die? Or what good can be done by haste? For if he is dead already, as is very likely, all is lost, and it is useless to go at all. And if on the contrary, he lives for a little longer, I shall find him still alive, if I start to-morrow. And is it likely he will live or die exactly so, as to make my starting now either necessary or advantageous? And shall I take the risk, and throw away the very fruit of my birth, for nothing at all? And what would Táráwalí think of me, if I left her in the lurch, counting her inestimable favour as a straw? Beyond all doubt, she would wipe me from her memory as a thing beneath even contempt, like a sieve, all holes, into which it is futile to pour anything at all. No, I will keep my sunset, even if I lose my kingdom. And yet, why should I, after all? For to-morrow when I actually start, I will go very fast indeed, preparing everything beforehand, and having my horse waiting for me, so as to lose no time when I leave the Queen, carrying with me as I ride the memory of to-night: whereas if I threw her over, and set off to-night, the thought of what I was leaving behind would be so heavy as utterly to prevent me from going along at all.
And so I mused, waiting all the time with fierce impatience for the sun to sink, till at last day came to an end. And then I rose in delight, exclaiming: At last, at last, separation is over, and now it is time! And I went very quickly to the palace, and found the pratihárí: and she led me away straight to the door, and opened it, and I went in.