“May not,” repeated Salim, “or will not? When a request is made to you by me, it seems there should be no question whether you may hear it.”
“Both then,” replied Iravati, firmly, “both may not and will not; may not, because my word and faith bind me to another; and will not and cannot grant your wish because my whole heart and life are given to that other.”
It was fortunate for her that the increasing darkness hid the fierce expression that these frank, imprudent words called forth on the Prince’s face; had she seen it she would have shuddered at the thought of what might befall that other from such a rival.
“Consider well,” said Salim, after a moment’s silence; “think what you recklessly fling from you for the sake of a young man once dear to you, and who for the moment still appears to be so, but who, even should he remain true to you, can never offer what the future ruler of the empire of the Mughals can give. I do not speak of the treasures that should be yours, or of the luxury that would surround you, seated by my side, and ruling over the kingdoms and princes of Hindustan, for I know how little temptation there is in all that for a soul noble and elevated such as yours. Still it is not to be despised. You think you know what riches and luxury are, but what you have hitherto seen is but tinsel in comparison with the splendour of the palaces and gardens of Agra and Delhi. But let that be. Think what a glittering future you throw from you in choosing to become the wife of a simple unknown nobleman, instead of ruling over the deeds of the mightiest monarchs, while all the great and noble bow before you, and the prosperity of millions depends on you. Even as I place my lot in your hands, so I swear from to-day to place also that of my future subjects. Your decisions shall be my laws, for I know well that you will command nothing but what is noble, good and wise, and no one in the whole kingdom oppressed justly or unjustly but will find protection in you.”
Vainly the future ruler awaited an answer. Iravati was silent, but it was a silence that gave no hope of consent. She had turned from him as if to hide her sorrow, and buried her face in her hands. Even this glorious future made no impression on her.
“Iravati,” said Salim, in a deeply moved voice, “do not at once deprive me of the peace with which your appearance filled my whole soul. Through you I had become quite a different man from what I was; do not let me fall back again. Have pity on me, and on the thousands that with you by my side would find a benefactor in me, but without you, in all probability, a tyrant. I am weak, I know, but I would be strong as a hero, if from your words and presence I might draw my strength. Why should it be refused me? It will only cost you one word, and the crown of India lies at your feet; and you have nothing to do but to stretch out your hand and place it on your head. But I see,” he continued, passionately, “that my respect, my admiration, and my love are nothing to you; you despise the prince for a miserable adventurer, to whom you are bound by chains forged without thought; but think well what you do, what you venture, and what fate may await you and him also, if ever the love of one powerful as I is turned to rage and hate. But I am speaking wild and foolish words,” he added sadly, letting his head sink on his breast. “What right have I to your love? However high my station, I am not worthy of you. I am old before my time; that other is young, beautiful, with a heart unspoiled by the world. Why should I then complain? what I am is my own doing, and that of an unhappy fate, which has placed me in a station for which I am unfitted. But ah! how different, how different might all have been, if fate had thrown you in my way earlier! Now it is too late, too late!”
“My Prince,” said Iravati, gently, “you do yourself wrong; you have reason for reproaching but not for despising yourself. And be assured, I do not despise or scorn you, even if I can never be yours; in truth, had I known you earlier, even as you are now, but before another had won my love and faith, I might have returned your affection. You cannot really wish me to break my pledged word; and if I did you would lose the respect for me on which your love is grounded. But even in that case, which now is impossible, your high rank would have been no temptation. The luxury and splendour in which you live could never have been my element; and the great responsibility you were ready to lay on my shoulders, I could never have borne. But why should we lose ourselves in thought of what might have been, but can never be? The unknown powers that rule our fates have willed otherwise, let us submit to their decision, which must be just and wise for you as well as I. And so leave me, my gracious prince and lord, in the lowly state which you found me; go and forget me, now and always; and if you do remember me, let your thoughts be of that moment when nobler and more elevated feelings made themselves master of your soul. As for me, my thoughts will follow you in your future, which will, I hope and trust, be rich in noble deeds, when you succeed to the throne of the great Emperor; and be certain that amongst your numberless subjects none will watch your path in life with deeper interest than she who now implores you to leave her, and to release her from the hard duty of disobedience to your wishes.”
Seeking for an answer both fitting and convincing, stood the despot who perhaps never before in his life had met with contradiction. Silently he stood before the young girl; now about to speak, and then restraining himself, seeking vainly for words to give expression to the conflicting feelings that thronged his brain. At last he approached Iravati, seized her hand and lifted it to his lips, then turned and disappeared in the darkness, without a single word.
The next morning, greatly to Salhana’s alarm, he heard that the Prince had left the Castle of Allahabad accompanied by a single servant, but whither he had gone no one knew.