“That you will reward with your love his vicegerent here, whose ministration he has approved, and to whom he has imparted superhuman power, as the reward of a life of faithful homage. I will bear you to a retreat where no sorrow shall visit you, and where every moment of your life shall be gilded with a blessing.”
“Mocker!—this is no time for delusion: bear me to the pyre, and you shall see how a Hindoo widow can die.”
“But why would you court death, when happiness is within your grasp!”
“Because death with a beloved husband were a blessed boon compared with life with an aged and sensual Brahmin. Priest, I despise thee:—lead me to the pyre.”
The Brahmin was silent. He folded his arms, and fixed upon her a look of deep and implacable malice.
“I fear thee not,” she cried, rising; “conduct me to my doom; the gods will applaud what their priest may scorn; but I reverence the one and despise the other.” She beckoned to her women, who approached, and declared to them that she was ready to ascend the pyre, upon which her husband’s body had been already some time laid. The ministering priest did not utter a word, and made ready to commence the initiatory ceremonies.
FOOTNOTES:
[5] The Ganges.
[6] The Greek Charon and this Hindoo toll-taker would appear to be identical; but the Greeks have been indebted to Hindoo superstition for many other notions, the parallels of which are too strong to be mistaken.
[7] See Sonnerat, vol. ii., on Hindoo funerals.