The Substance of a Dream

by F. W. Bain

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.

XIII

And I stood, looking after him, with a startled heart, and then I went home slowly, saying to myself: How in the world did he guess my secret, and what did he mean? Was there a warning in his words? And what is all this about the Queen? Did he ever see her in his life? for if he had, he would long ago have discovered that all his rules have exceptions, of which Táráwalí is one: being not only the very gem beyond comparison that he spoke of with contempt, but a woman of women who very certainly never would despise any one at all, least of all the man who thought her exactly what she is, a star, far, far above his own muddy earth: a thing made of some rare celestial matter, differing altogether from anything to be found here below, fetched by the Creator when he meant to make her from some abysmal intermundane mine, where ocean foam and lunar ooze and sandal-wood and camphor lie jumbled up together with the essence of all curves and smiles and whispers and soft kisses and sweet glances and irresolution and long hair. And the image of the Queen rose up before me, laughing as it were in scorn at Haridása, and utterly obliterating everything he said. And I said to myself in ecstasy: Sunset will be here, very soon. And I reached my house, and looked, and lo! there was sitting at the door a Rajpoot, covered with the desert's dust, and holding by the rein a horse that hung its head, trembling still, and white with foam.

And as I came towards him, he stood up, and made obeisance. And he said: Maháráj, thou art come at last, and it was time. And I said: What is the matter? Then he said: Thy mother sent me, and I have ridden night and day. The King thy father is dying, and every moment he may be dead. And now, if thou carest, either for thy father, or thy mother, or thy throne, there is only one chance for thee, to fly to them as fast as any horse can take thee, without the delay of a single moment. So my message is delivered, and the Maháráj is judge.