KING.
Yes, I can.
SUDARSHANA.
What do you see?
KING.
I see that the darkness of the infinite heavens, whirled into life and being by the power of my love, has drawn the light of a myriad stars into itself, and incarnated itself in a form of flesh and blood. And in that form, what acons of thought and striving, untold yearnings of limitless skies, the countless gifts of unnumbered seasons!
SUDARSHANA.
Am I so wonderful, so beautiful? When I hear you speak so, my heart swells with gladness and pride. But how can I believe the wonderful things you tell me? I cannot find them in myself!
KING.
Your own mirror will not reflect them—it lessens you, limits you, makes you look small and insignificant. But could you see yourself mirrored in my own mind, how grand would you appear! In my own heart you are no longer the daily individual which you think you are—you are verily my second self.
SUDARSHANA.
Oh, do show me for an instant how to see with your eyes! Is there nothing at all like darkness to you? I am afraid when I think of this. This darkness which is to me real and strong as death—is this simply nothing to you? Then how can there be any union at all between us, in a place like this? No, no-it is impossible: there is a barrier betwixt us two: not here, no, not in this place. I want to find you and see you where I see trees and animals, birds and stones and the earth
KING.
Very well, you can try to find me—but none will point me out to you. You will have to recognise me, if you can, yourself. And even if anybody professes to show me to you, how can you be sure he is speaking the truth?
SUDARSHANA.
I shall know you; I shall recognise you. I shall find you out among a million men. I cannot be mistaken.
KING.
Very well, then, to-night, during the festival of the full moon of the spring, you will try to find me out from the high turret of my palace—search for me with your own eyes amongst the crowd of people.
SUDARSHANA.
Wilt thou be there among them?