The Substance of a Dream

by F. W. Bain

And I said to myself, looking after her in wonder: What! do not go? So then, as it seems, there will be danger. But little does she know me, if she thinks that any danger would keep me from the Queen. And indeed, in the garden there is room for any number of assassins, if Narasinha or anybody else were jealous of my visiting Táráwalí. Danger! And I laughed in derision, that was mixed with intoxication, as if the very notion of danger from a rival added, somehow or other, to the sweetness of anticipation, by stamping me as a claimant to the affection of Táráwalí who was greatly to be feared. And all at once, light broke in, as it were, upon my soul. And I cried out in ecstasy: Danger! Ha! at last, all the mystery is solved. It was danger that prevented my Táráwalí from sending me any message or bidding me to come. And all the while she knew it, and she had to be very careful, fearing for my life. And suddenly, I struck my hands together, and I cried: Ha! what a fool I am! Why, she told me so herself, when I saw her for the second time, and yet I had forgotten it. And all this while, in the peevishness of my own oblivion and presumption, I have been blaming her, expecting things utterly unreasonable, and loading her extraordinary sweetness with miserable suspicions arising from my own imagination, and the blindness of my insatiable passion. Ah! Táráwalí, forgive me if I wronged thee! But I will make it up to thee to-night, and beg for thy divine forgiveness at thy feet. And all this hesitation was all the while only on my account: and yet, brute that I was! I never guessed it, till Chaturiká gave me, as it were, a hint, and put me upon the scent. And what else was her delay but an irrefutable proof of her affection, showing that she chose even to allow herself to be misinterpreted rather than let me run on her account into the danger that she knew.

And instantly, all the clouds of darkness and desolation rolled away in a body from my soul, leaving it bathing in the ruddy glow of sunset, and passion, and emotion, exactly as it was before. And I waited, plunged in the ecstasy of reminiscence and anticipation, till at last the sun began to sink. And then, once more I went, on feet dancing with agitation and delight, to the palace gates, and saw the pratihárí standing waiting as before. And as I entered, never doubting that she had instructions of my coming, she barred the way, saying: What is thy business? And I said: I have come by appointment to see the Queen. Then said the pratihárí: Thou must come another time, for the Queen is not here.

And I stopped short, as if she had suddenly run a dagger into my heart. And I said in a low voice: Not here? It cannot be. Thou art mistaken. And the pratihárí said: There is no mistake at all. She is gone. And I said: Gone? Where? When? And she said: She went within this hour, to visit her maternal uncle; for want, as I think, of something better to do. And when she will return, I cannot say.

And then, my heart stopped. And I stood for a single instant, erect, and I turned, as if to go away. And all at once, there came from the very middle of my heart, a cry, that tore me as it were to pieces, and I fell in the street like a dead man.

XXI

And when I came back to myself, I looked, and saw an old man with a long white beard gazing at me with anxiety, sitting by my bed in which I was lying, having been brought home I know not how as I lay in a swoon. And when he saw me look at him, he began to rub his hands together, with a little laugh. And he said: Ha! then, as it seems, after all, thy soul has returned at last: and it was time. For it had been away so long that I was beginning to doubt whether it had not said good-bye to thy body, for good and all. And now it has come back after all, by the favour of Ganapati, and the help of the Ayurweda, and one of Dhanwantari's[30] most unworthy devotees. And I said slowly: How long have I been dead? Then said that old physician: It is now nearly sunset again, and thou hast lain there without moving ever since they brought thee here from the street, about the time of sunset, yesterday. And now what is it, that has struck thee down, as if by a thunderbolt? For how can the physician cure, unless the patient tells him of his case?

And I closed my eyes for a while, as if to rest: and after a while I said: O father, there is nothing to tell, to one of thy experience and skill: for since childhood, it happens to me, every now and then, to fall down and lie in a trance: and when once I come back, all is over, and I go on as before, till next time. And now there is nothing to be done, but for me to reward thee for thy care, to which I owe my life. And though it is a thing of little or no worth, I will count it, for thy sake, as if it were a thing of price. And I gave that old man gold, and sent him away delighted, for all I wanted was to be rid of him as quickly as I could, lest I should fall into a fever and begin to rave, and betray my secret against my will.

And then, for many days, I lay, living very slowly, like one in a long dream, drinking water, and eating almost nothing, and going over in my mind every detail of my life since first I saw the Queen. And it seemed to me, as I mused, as if I had died long ago; and everything appeared to me like something that had happened long ago, to some other than myself. And day very slowly followed day, and life came back to me as it were with hesitating steps, as though it knew that it was coming to one that scarcely cared to bid it welcome. And then at last there came a day when I looked about with curiosity to see what might be seen, and lo! there in a corner lay my lute upon the floor.

So, after a while, I said: Lute, canst thou tell me, how it feels to be discarded? And I went and took it up, and strung it, and began to play. And as fate would have it, there came over the strings as I touched them a sadness like my own, that seemed to say: Come, we are fellow-sufferers, and now let us weep together, since there is absolutely nothing else to do. And suddenly, the lute fell from my hands of its own accord, and I fell with it upon the floor. And I wept, as if my very soul was about to abandon my body, for sheer despair. And as I wept, I came slowly back to the self I was before; yet so, that the half of me was left behind, and lost for ever. And I said to myself: I have been robbed by Táráwalí of all that was worth anything in my soul, and it only remains to consider, what is the next thing to be done.

And that very evening, I went out of my house for the first time since I fell down. And avoiding the streets, I wandered along by bypaths, till I reached the river bank. And I hid myself in the bushes, and lay watching the sun go down across the river, and thinking of Táráwalí and her pool, till unawares I went to sleep. And how long I slept I know not, but I woke suddenly in the night, roused by the voices of two that were talking close beside me, not knowing there was anyone by, to overhear. And as I listened carelessly without curiosity, all at once there fell on my ear the name of Narasinha.