[[5]] Wétála, an uncanny being, generally possessing magic powers, given to occupying empty corpses and devouring human flesh.
[[6]] The lowest caste, whose very proximity was pollution to a Brahman.
[[7]] This is all one word in the original, únádhikákritamkritam, 'what has been done is too little, too much, and not done at all.'
DAY 20.
Then the King said to Rasakósha: My friend, I have been bitten by the beauty of this incomparable woman as by a black cobra, and now the poison works. I have but two more days to live. For certain it is that her answer to your last question will be my sentence of death, and equally certain it is, that she will give that answer; for her intellect is like the edge of a sharp sword, which while it cuts the knot of the problem will at the same moment pierce me to the heart. And the King passed the night in a state of despair, leaving his bed untouched. And when the sun rose, he rose also, and went out alone into the garden and wandered about, dreading the setting of the sun yet longing for reunion with his beloved, till his soul was almost riven in twain with opposite emotions. And he reproached Wináyaka, saying: O thou of the Ruddy Trunk, I have been deceived by thee: and instead of clearing my road to success, thou hast blocked it by an insurmountable obstacle in the form of this lady's piercing acuteness of understanding. And then he said: This is no time for despair. Let me not, like Kritákrita, leave my work half finished, but rather endeavour myself to discover some riddle that she cannot answer. And yet what hope is there that where Rasakósha has failed, I should succeed? For the Princess is not more skilful in answering his questions, than he in composing them, being as it were a very ocean of stories in human form. Or rather, no mortal, but only a god, could pose the ingenuity of this lovely lady. Then he prayed to Saraswatí, saying: O goddess of speech, my only refuge is in thy favour. O befriend me, and either cloud the mind of my beloved with temporary bewilderment, or else reveal to me some puzzle which she will be unable to answer. Truly, my puzzle is worse than hers.
And on the instant, Saraswatí put a thought into his heart. And he sprang up with a shout of joy, exclaiming: Ha! I am favoured. Victory to Saraswatí. The Princess is mine. And he ran quickly to find Rasakósha, whom he discovered buried in profound meditation on a story for the coming evening, and said: My friend, away with meditation. [Greek: Eureka][[1]]! I will myself propose a riddle to the Princess this evening. Then Rasakósha said: O King, I congratulate you. But still, in a matter of such importance, let us risk nothing by presumptuous confidence. So propound your riddle to me first that we may make trial of its difficulty. Then King Súryakánta laughed in delight, and said: Your very doubt shows that it is unanswerable. My own case is the very problem. I will go to the Princess, and ask her what I ought to do. And if she tells me, then I will ask her to-morrow what she tells me to-day: and if she does not tell me, then she is mine according to the terms of the agreement, to-day: and so in either alternative, the bird[[2]] is caged.
Then Rasakósha said with a smile: Victory to your Majesty. Truly wonderful is the power of love: like a stone it at once blunts and sharpens the edge of intellect. For it formerly blinded you to everything in the world, and now it has sharpened your sight so as to discover what has escaped us all this time, though lying as it were on the road before us. But unless I am deceived by the external signs, I predict that the god of love will also blind the Princess; or rather, that she will throw herself gladly into the cage. For none are so easily caught as those who wish to be; and though the Princess has been adamant to my questions, she will be soft as a flower to yours.
Then in his impatience the King could hardly endure the remainder of the day, burning with desire to put his question to the Princess. But at last the sun set. Then Rasakósha said: O King, go you alone to the hall of audience. For my absence will do you more service to-day than my presence did before. There are cases, when a friend shows his friendship rather by his absence than his presence. Apropos, I will tell you a story: Listen. But the King said: My friend, this is no time for stories, even though told by you. And though I will go alone to-night, without you, yet know, that should I achieve success by the favour of Saraswatí and the Lord of obstacles, I shall nevertheless owe it to you rather than myself. For not only have you sustained my life daily, during the hours of separation, but your stories have been as it were a ladder, by which I have ascended step by step to the window of my beloved's chamber. And does not the lowest rung of the ladder contribute equally with the highest to the attainment of the summit of hope? Then Rasakósha laughed, and said: O King, it is well. Now go, and though you have not heard my story, yet I have attained in some measure the end I had in view in proposing it. For you have kept the Princess waiting, and expectation increases desire. Good luck be with you!
Then the King left him and went very quickly by himself to the hall of audience. And his right arm throbbed as he drew near the door, and rejoicing at the omen, he went in. And there he saw Anangarágá, clad in a robe of the hue of indigo[[3]], and a bodice rainbow-hued like the neck of a pigeon, and studded with yellow sunstones, and her crown and other ornaments: but she had left her throne, and come towards the door, and was looking with anxiety for the King. But when she saw him she blushed[[4]], and returned in confusion to her throne. And King Súryakánta went up to her, and fell down before her and took her by the hand, and said: Lady, there was once a King, who became suitor to a Princess, lovely like thyself, on this condition, that if he could ask her a question that she could not answer, she should be his. Now tell me, O thou lovely incarnation of wisdom, what should he ask her?