And once again, Babhru uttered a groan, and he exclaimed: Aranyání, thy words are torture, and nothing whatever but the echo of my own fears. But this much I will tell thee, on my own part: that the King who shall come to carry thee away will do well to beware. For if I know it, and find him in the wood, he will never leave it, either with thee or without. And he looked away, with ferocity in his eyes and in his teeth, not perceiving that Aranyání turned paler as he spoke. And presently she said, in a low voice: Surely this love must be an evil thing, if these are its results. And now for the very first time, I see, that thou art well named, O Bruin, and in very truth, a bear. What! wouldst thou actually slay the poor King's son who had never done thee any harm, simply for seeking me? And Babhru said sternly: What harm could he do me greater than robbing me of thee? But let him only come, and see!
And Aranyání said slowly: O thou rude, and fierce, and love-bewildered Babhru, dost thou not know, that only he is virtuous, who is so far from revenging an injury that he returns it, on the contrary, by a benefit, as Bhrigu did: whose story would be a lesson to thee, of which thou standest in sore need. And Babhru said: I care not a straw, either for Bhrigu or anybody else: and if, in this matter, he could be of any other opinion than my own, I tell thee beforehand, that thy Bhrigu is a fool.
And Aranyání laid her hand upon his arm, and said very gently: On the contrary, he was a sage: sit still, and listen, while I tell thee all about him. Long ago there arose among the sages a dispute, as to which was the greatest of the gods. And some said, the Grandfather, and others, the Moony-crested, and others, the husband of Shrí.[33] And finding that they could not agree, for all their disputing, they came to the conclusion, to settle the matter by experiment. And they chose from among them Bhrigu, and sent him away, to put the gods to the test. So Bhrigu went accordingly, and after a while, he fell in with Brahma. And drawing near that four-faced god, he neither saluted him, nor performed a pradakshina,[34] but went up without ceremony and accosted him, with rude familiarity. Thereupon Brahma, in great wrath at his insolence, and on the very point of cursing that deliberately ill-mannered sage, was nevertheless appeased by him, by means of excuses and apologies. And so, leaving him appeased, Bhrigu proceeded further on, and coming to Kailás, enquired for Maheshwara. But the Moony-crested god, informed of his arrival, sent him out a message, bidding him go away again, and saying: I have no leisure, since I am at this very moment busy playing with my other half, the Daughter of the Snow. And going away accordingly, Bhrigu came upon the Lord Wishnu, lying fast asleep. And instantly he awoke him, by giving him a kick upon the breast, so hard, that he injured his own foot. Then that husband of Shrí, rising up politely, said to him with concern and compassion in his voice: O Bhrigu, surely thou hast hurt thy own foot: for the kick was very severe. And as a rule, a blow hurts the giver more than the receiver. And sitting down beside him, that compassionate deity took the foot upon his lap, and began very gently to shampoo it, continuing till all the pain was gone. Then said Bhrigu: What god is greater than this god? For who but a god, and the very highest, would requite an unprovoked assault by tenderness, and pity, and oblivion of his own wrong? Surely this is the badge of Deity in its very essence, that, like sky-crystal, is pure, and absolutely transparent, and utterly without a flaw[35]?
IV
And Babhru listened in silence, and when she ended, he said slowly: Aranyání, dost thou then imagine, that the deity, so tolerant of injury to himself, would have been equally long-suffering and indifferent, had Bhrigu or any other, fool or sage, attempted to rob him of Shrí, and deprive him of his wife?
And Aranyání laughed and said: But I am not thy wife, O Babhru, yet. Thou art anticipating. And Babhru said: Alas! no. But at least, if thou art not yet my wife, thou art not any other man's: nor, if I can prevent it, shalt ever be. And she said: Babhru, thou art utterly intolerable, and a tyrant: and at this rate, I shall without a doubt die unmarried, if all the sons of Kings who may come to seek me in the wood are to be slain by thee. And much I fear, that the wood will come to rival even Kurukshetra,[36] with all its heroes lying dead in heaps, except thyself.
And Babhru said without a smile: Aranyání, thou art laughing at a thing which, for all that, is very solemn, and very simple: for very sure it is, that whoever would deprive me of thyself must either slay me first, or die himself. And she said: Poor Bruin, this alone is very sure, that love must be a very demon, since he has filled thee with such a raging thirst for the slaughter of the sons of Kings. But come now, I will tell thee a better way: and that is, to kill me: for so wilt thou effectually circumvent and cheat all these love-sick and imaginary Kings, at a single blow: if, as it seems, I am to be a cause of strife and bloodshed, as long as I am alive.
And he looked at her fixedly, and said: Jest not with my devotion, for it may be, thou art nearer the truth than thou imaginest. Will any King whatever love thee half as well as I do? Yet thou wilt not love me, and as I think, it is because I am not on the level of thy thoughts, and not a King.[37] Then she laughed, and exclaimed: Alas! poor Bruin, thou art mad: for all these Kings are only dreams, yet art thou as savage as if they were actually before thee in a row. And he said: Aye! only dreams: and yet the dreams are earnest, and are thine. Kings are the very matter of thy dreams. Is not this the subject of thy reveries as thou gazest at the sand? Ha! am I right? Dost thou never long for some King's son to come and fill thy life with joy, and deliver thee from the monotony of this wood, and thy father, and myself? Am I not below thee, in thy estimation? Then for what canst thou long, but for thy peer?
And he looked keenly at Aranyání, and as her eyes met his, she wavered, a very little, and looked away, and said: Alas! poor Babhru, thy love is jealousy, which makes thee so sharp-sighted, that thou seest things that are not there. So trouble not thy foolish head about anything so slight and insignificant as the subject of my dreams, otherwise thou wilt place thyself on the level of the zanies of Chincholi. And he said: Thou speakest the very truth: I am the very type of a fool, striving to reach what is above him and beyond his reach, even when he stands on tiptoe: and that is, the level of thy thoughts. And Aranyání said: See now, I said well, thou art the very fellow of the sages of Chincholi: a city, into which on a day there came a certain sanctimonious ascetic, called Pinga, from the colour of his hair. And arriving at the square before the palace of the King, he sat down in its middle, and spreading out his left hand open before him, he looked intently at its palm. And so he continued, wrapt in the contemplation of his hand, paying absolutely no regard to anything around him, till night. And this he did every day, all day long, till at length he became the very target of the curiosity of the people of the town, who crowded round him in a throng, disputing as to the meaning of his singular behaviour, and all maintaining opposite opinions. And one said: This ascetic is undoubtedly pondering on the Panchatantra.[38] And another: Beyond a doubt, the holy man is meditating on Death. And yet another: Is not this an ascetic? And of what should he meditate but the five fires? But a pundit passing by, said: His meditation can be of nothing but the syllogism and its members. Thereupon another said: Is it not the left hand?[39] Then his thoughts are of the Shakti. And a wag among them said: Aye! For of what do all these holy men perpetually think, but of the five arrows of the God of Love? And a Brahman said: Thou art altogether out in thy conjecture, for he meditates on nothing but the sheaths of the soul. And a Gáwali shouted: The sage is considering devoutly the parts of the cow. For what is holier than a cow? And there arose such an uproar in the city that the citizens all came to blows, dividing into factions, around him, while all the time he sat peacefully just as if nobody was there, gazing at his hand. And finally the King sent officers to say to him: Depart quickly from the city, for thy presence is a cause of sedition. Thereupon Pinga said: Interrupt my meditation, and I will curse the city, so as to deprive it of both sun and rain. So fearing his curse, the King had recourse to diplomacy. And he sent his purohita at night, who secretly induced that obstinate ascetic to go away, of his own accord, by giving him a lakh. And as he slowly went out of the city, his chela said to him aside: Master, what was the subject of thy meditation: for I am curious to know? Then that crafty ascetic suddenly laughed like a hyæna. And he said: I meditated about absolutely nothing but my own hand. And now, this is a lesson to thee. For such is the nature of fools, who comprehend least of all what is absolutely simple, and see last of all what is lying before their nose. And whoever knows this possesses treasure inexhaustible, and is master of the world.