“Indeed, I did see you yesterday and offer you greeting.”
“But did you not have a beard yesterday, and long hair and dust in your hair?”
“You observed well, you saw everything. You saw Siddhartha, the brahmin’s son who left his home to become a samana and spent three years as a samana. Now, though, I have left that path and come to this city, and you were the first to greet me her, even before I had set foot in it. I can say that it is to you that I have come, o Kamala! You are the first woman with whom Siddhartha has spoken without his eyes lowered. I will never again lower my eyes when I meet with a beautiful woman.”
Kamala smiled and played with her fan of peacock feathers. And she asked, “And has Siddhartha come to me just to say this?”
“To say this and to give you my thanks for your beauty. And if it will not displease you, Kamala, I should like to ask you to be my friend and my teacher, for I still know nothing of the arts in which you are so expert.”
At this Kamala laughed out loud.
“This has never happened to me before, my friend, a samana comes to me out of the woods and wants to learn from me! It has never happened to me that a long-haired samana in a ragged loin cloth has come to me! There are many young men who do come to me, some of them are even the sons of brahmins, but they come wearing beautiful clothes and expensive shoes, they have perfumed hair and a purse full of money. That is what the young men look like who come to me, samana.”
Siddhartha said, “I am only beginning to learn from you. But I already learned from you yesterday. I have had my beard nicely removed, I have combed my hair and have oil in it. The things I lack are the things least important, most excellent lady: fine clothes, fine shoes, money in a purse. Do be aware that Siddhartha has undertaken much harder tasks than trifles like that, and has achieved them. Why should I not now achieve the task I undertook yesterday? To be your friend and to learn the pleasures of love from you! You will see what a good student I am, Kamala, I have learned many thing that are harder than what you have to teach me. Do you say, then, that Siddhartha is not good enough for you as he is, with oil in his hair but without clothes, without shoes, without money?”
Kamala laughed out loud and said, “No, worthy young man, he is not good enough! Not yet! He must have clothes, beautiful clothes, shoes must he have, fine shoes, he must have plentiful money in his purse, and he must bring presents for Kamala. Do you understand now, samana from the woods? Do you see?”
“I see it well,” Siddhartha exclaimed. “How could I have failed to see what has just come from a mouth such as this? Your mouth is like a fig freshly broken open, Kamala. My mouth, too, is red and fresh, it will suit your mouth well, you will see. But, beautiful Kamala, are you not at all afraid of this samana from the woods who has come to you to learn the arts of love?”