A Syrup of the Bees

by F. W. Bain

So as she spoke, Arunodaya looked towards her, and presently he said aloud: See, Gangádhara, how yonder snowy sea-bird has come to me as it were for refuge, tired beyond a doubt by some long journey across the sea! Let us not go too near it, lest out of fright it may take to flight, before its wings are rested. And he sat down a little way off, on the very edge of the terrace, keeping his eye on Makarandiká, who laughed at his words in her sleeve, saying softly to herself: There is no fear, O handsome stranger, that I shall fly away, since thy arrival, so far from scaring me away, has nailed me to the spot. And the prime minister said meanwhile: Maháráj, here I am, according to thy appointment, to discuss thy marriage with thee, where nobody can overhear. And know, that since thou art absolutely bent on marrying no other than the wife of thy former birth, I do not despair of finding her, if she is able to be found. But who can find anything, unless he knows what it is like? For if not, he will not know that he has found it, when it lies before his eyes. So tell me, to begin with, what this wife of thine resembles; and then I will set to work and find her, without the loss of any time.

Then Arunodaya said slowly: O Gangádhara, how can I tell thee what I do not know myself? And Gangádhara said, in wonder: Maháráj, it cannot be. How will thou recognise her, not knowing what she looks like? And Arunodaya said again: I shall know her in an instant, the moment I set eyes on her. For at the very sight of her, love, that depends on the forgotten associations of a previous existence, will suddenly shoot up in the darkness of my heart, like flame. For this is the only proof, and no other is required. And yet, there is something else, to give me as it were a clue. For though, strive as I may, I cannot even guess what she was like, yet my memory, as it seems, is not absolutely blank. For I remember, that she was the daughter of a pandit, and maybe herself a pandit; and I seem to listen in a dream, whenever I think about her, to the noise of innumerable pandits, all shouting at the same time some name that I can never catch, mingling with the roar of the waves of the sea.

And when he ended, Gangádhara stared at him, in utter stupefaction, saying within himself: Beyond a doubt, this King is mad. And presently he said aloud: O King Arunodaya, who ever heard of a woman, suited for a king's wife, who had anything to do with pandits? What is there in common between pandits and the wives of kings? Certainly, thou art doomed to live and die unmarried: for a beauty who is a pandit is not to be found in the three worlds.

VIII

Then said Arunodaya: Gangádhara, who knows? But be that as it may, this is absolutely certain, that I will not marry any woman who was not the wife of my former birth. And so, if thou canst find her, well. And if not, then thy prophecy will be true, for I shall live and die without a wife.

And Gangádhara went away again, more at a loss than he was before. And when he reached his home, all at once he began to laugh, as if his reason had left him. And he said to himself: Ha ha! Out on this unhappy King, who hears the noise of pandits in the roaring of the sea! Why, even Maheshwara himself could not find a shout of laughter, to match the absurdity of this extraordinary jest. And he went on laughing all day long, till his family grew frightened and summoned the physicians, saying: He is possessed.

And meanwhile Makarandiká remained upon the terrace, watching Arunodaya, as if fascinated by a snake. And as she listened to their conversation, her heart beat with such exultation that it shook her like wind. And she said to herself: Surely I am favoured by the deity. Well was it for me, that I scorned to choose a husband from among those miserable Widyádhara kings: for had I done so, I should have missed the very fruit of my birth. And now, by the favour of Ganapati, I have come here in the very nick of time: and I know all. And no other than myself shall be his wife. And indeed, beyond a doubt I was the very wife he looks for, since everything corresponds, and exactly as he said; love has suddenly burst out flaming in my heart, at the very first sight of him, suddenly recollecting its old forgotten state. But whether I was his wife or not, in any other birth, I will very certainly become his wife in this. And all the symptoms conspire in my favour.

For not only is my right eye throbbing, but I actually stumbled in ignorance on his very name, before I ever heard it. And now, I will, as Gangádhara said, set to work immediately without losing any time: for I know, as they do not, exactly what his wife is like. And now, everything will turn out well, so long as he never discovers in his life that I overheard him, on this terrace, before he ever saw me. And that cannot be, for he never can learn it from anyone but me.

So as she spoke, Arunodaya suddenly recollected the coming of the bird, and looked round, and rejoiced, to find that it was still there. And he said aloud, as if expressly to chime in with her thoughts: Ha! so, then, thou art not gone, as I feared. O sea-bird, from what far-off land art thou arrived? For none of the birds that haunt my palace resemble thee in the least degree. Art thou also looking for thy mate, as I am? Or hast thou lost thy way, blown by the winds over the home of monsters and of gems?

And instantly the bird replied: O King Arunodaya, not so: for I am looking neither for a mate nor a way: but have come here expressly, sent by the god, to tell thee how to find thy own mate, and thy own way.