CHAPTER I.

May that triumphant Lord protect us, who as he stands in mysterious meditation, bathed in twilight, motionless, and ashy pale, with the crystal moon in his yellow hair, appears to the host of worshippers on his left, a woman, and to those on his right, a man.

There lived of old, on the edge of the desert, a raja of the race of the sun. And like that sun reflected at midday in the glassy depths of the Manasa lake, he had an image of himself in the form of a son, who exactly resembled him in every particular, except age. And he gave him the name of Aja, for he said: He is not another, but my very self that has conquered death, and passed without birth straight over into another body. Moreover, he will resemble his ancestor, and the god after whom I have called him Aja. So as this son grew up, his father’s delight in him grew greater also. For he was tall as a shala tree, and very strong, and yet like another God of Love: for his face was more beautiful than the face of any woman, with large eyes like lapis-lazuli, and lips like laughter incarnate: so that his father, as often as he looked at him, said to himself: Surely the Creator has made a mistake, and mixed up his male and female ingredients, and made him half and half. For if only he had had a twin sister, it would have been difficult to tell with certainty, which was which.

And then, when Aja was eighteen, his father died. And immediately, his relations conspired against him, led by his maternal uncle. And they laid a plot, and seized him at night, and bound him when he was asleep: for they dared not attack him when he was awake, for fear of his courage and his prodigious strength. And they deliberated over him, as he lay bound, what they should do with him: and some of them were for putting him to death, then and there. But the prime minister, who was in the plot, persuaded them to let him live: saying to himself: In this way I shall make for myself a loophole of escape, in case he should ever regain his throne.

Then in the early morning, his uncle and his other relations took him away, and laid him bound on a swift camel. And mounting others, they hurried him away into the desert, going at full speed for hours, till they reached its very heart. And there they set him down. And they placed beside him a little water in a small skin, and a little bag of corn. And his uncle said: Now, O nephew, we will leave thee, alone with thy shadow and thy life in the sand. And if thou canst save thyself, by going away to the western quarter, lo! it is open before thee. But beware of attempting to return home, towards the rising sun. For I will set guards to watch thy coming, and I will not spare thee a second time.p> And then, he set his left arm free, and laid beside him a little knife. And they mounted their camels, and taking his, they flew away from him over the sand, like the shadow of a cloud driven by the western wind.

So when they were gone, Aja took the knife, and cut his bonds. And he stood up, and watched them going, till they became specks on the edge of the desert, and vanished out of his sight.

CHAPTER II.

Then he looked round to the eight quarters of the world, and he looked up into the sky. And he said to himself: There is my ancestor, alone above, and I am alone, below. And he put his two hands to his breast, and flung them out into the air. And he exclaimed: Bho! ye guardians of the world, ye are my witnesses. Thus do I fling away the past, and now the whole wide world is mine, and ye are my protectors. And I have escaped death by a miracle, and the craft of that old villain of a prime minister, whom I will one day punish as he deserves. And now it is as though I knew, for the very first time in all my life, what it was to be alive. Ha! I live and breathe, and there before me is food and water. And now we will see, which is the stronger: Death in the form of this lonely desert, or the life that laughs at his menace as it dances in my veins. And little I care for the loss of my kingdom, now that my father is dead and gone. I throw it away like a blade of grass, and so far from lamenting, I feel rather as if I had been born again. Ha! it is good to be alive, even in this waste of sand. And he shouted aloud, and called out to the sun above him: Come, old Grandfather, thou and I will travel together across the sand. And yet, no. Thou art too rapid and too fierce to be a safe companion, even for one of thy own race. So thou shalt go before me, as is due to thee, and I will follow after.

And then, he lay down on the sand, covering his head with his upper garment, and slept and waited all day long, till the sun was going down. And then he rose, and eat and drank a very little, and taking with him his skin and corn, he walked on after the sun, which sank to his rest in the western mountain. But Aja followed him all night long, with the moon for his only companion. And as he went, he saw the bones of men and camels, lying along the sand, and grinning at him as it were with white and silent laughter, as though to say: Anticipate thy fate: for but a little further on, and thou shalt be what we are now. But he went on with nimble feet, like one that hurries through the den of a sleeping hungry lion, till the sun rose at last behind him. And then again he lay down, and rested all day long, and started again at night. And so he proceeded for many days, till all his water and corn was gone. And as he threw away the skin, he set his teeth, and said: No matter. I will reach the end of this hideous sand, which like the dress of Draupadi, seems to roll itself out as I go across it, though I should have to go walking on long after I am dead.

And night after night he went on, growing every night a little weaker. And then at last there came a night when as he toiled along with heavy steps that flagged as it were with loaded feet, faint with hunger and burning thirst, he said to himself: I am nearly spent, and now the end is coming near, either of the sand, or me. And then the sun rose behind him, and he looked up, and lo! it was reflected from the wall of a city before him, which resembled another sun of hope rising in the west to cheer him. And he rubbed his eyes, and looked again, saying to himself: Is it a delusion of the desert, to mock me as I perish, or is it really a true city? And he said again: Ha! it is a real city. And his ebbing strength came back to him with a flood of joy. And he stooped, and took up a little sand, and turned, and threw it back, exclaiming: Out upon thee, abode of death! Now, then, I have beaten thee, and thy victim will after all escape. And he hurried on towards the city, half afraid to take his eyes away from it for a single instant, lest it should disappear.

So as he drew near it, he saw a crowd upon its wall. And when he was distant from it but a little way, suddenly its great gate’s mouth was thrown open, and a stream of people shot from it like a long tongue, and rapidly came towards him, so that he said to himself: Ha! then, as it seems, I am expected by the citizens of this delightful city, who are as eager to come to me as I am to get to them. And they came closer, clamouring and buzzing as it were like bees; and he looked and lo! they were all women, and there was not a man among them all. And as he wondered, they ran up, and reached him, and threw themselves upon him like a wave of the sea, laughing and crying, and drowning him in their embraces: and they took him as it were captive, and swept him away towards the city, all talking at once, and deafening him with their joyful exclamations, paying not the least attention to anything that he tried to say. And Aja let himself go, carried away by all those women like a leaf in a rushing stream. And he said to himself, in astonishment: What is this great wonder? For all these women fight for me, as if they had never seen a man in their lives before. Where then can the men be, to whom they must belong? Or can it be, that I have come to a city composed of women without a man? Have I escaped the desert, only to be drowned in a sea of women? For what is the use of a single man, in an ocean of the other sex? Or are they dragging me away to offer me up to the Mother, having sacrificed all their own husbands already? Or have I really died in the desert, and is all this only a dream of the other world? Can these be the heavenly Apsarases, come in a body to fetch me away, as if I had fallen in battle? Surely they are, for some of them are sufficiently beautiful even for Indra’s hall. And anyhow, it is better to be torn to pieces by beautiful women, even if there are far too many, than to die in the desert, all alone.

So as they bore him along, chattering on like jays and cranes, he said again to the women next him: Fair ones, who are you, and where are you taking me, and why in the world are you so greatly delighted to see me? And then at last, they replied: O handsome stranger, ask nothing: very soon thou shalt know all, for we are carrying thee away to our King. And Aja said to himself: Ha! So, then, there is a King. These women have, after all, a King. Truly, I am fain to see him, this singular King of a female city. And weak as he was, he began to laugh, as they all were laughing: and so they all surged on like a very sea of laughter, through the gates of the city, and along the streets within, till they came at last to the King’s palace. And all the way, Aja looked, and there was not to be seen so much as the shadow of a man in all the streets, which overflowed with women like the channel of a river in the rainy season.

Then the guards of the palace doors, who were also women, took him, and led him in; and all the women who had brought him crowded in behind. And they mounted stairs, and after a while, they entered at last a great hall, whose pillars of alabaster were reflected in its dark green crystal floor, giving it the semblance of a silent pool in which a multitude of colossal swans had buried their necks beneath the water. And there Aja found himself in the presence of the King.

And instantly, all the women screamed together: Victory to thee, Maharaja! for here have we brought thee another husband for thy lovely daughter. And Aja started. And he said to himself: Another husband! How many husbands, then, has this strange King’s daughter got already? Has she an insatiable thirst for husbands, whose number I am brought to swell? So as he stood reflecting, the King leaped from his throne, and came towards him. And as Aja looked at him, he was seized with amazement greater than before. For the King resembled a very incarnation of the essence of grief, yet such, that it was difficult to behold him without laughter, as if the Creator had made him to exhibit skill in combining the two. For his long thin hair was pure white, as if with sorrow, and his eyes were red, as if with weeping, and great hollow ruts were furrowed in his sunk and withered cheeks, as if the tears had worn themselves channels in which to run. And though he was tall, he was bent and old, as if bowed down by a load of care. And he tried, as if in vain, to smile, as he said in a mournful voice that quavered and cracked: O man, whoever thou art, long have I waited for thee, and glad indeed I am to see thee, and inclined to dance like a peacock at the sight of a rainy cloud.

And as he gazed upon the King, Aja was seized with sudden laughter that would not be controlled: saying within himself: Much in common they have between them, a dancing happy peacock, and this doleful specimen of a weeping King! And he laughed, till tears ran down his cheeks also, as if in imitation of those of the King. And when at last he could speak, he said: O King, forgive me. For I am very weak, and have come within a little of dying in the desert. And I laughed from sheer exhaustion, and for joy to see in thy person as it were the warrant of my escape from death. Give me food, and above all, water, if thou wouldst not have me die at thy feet. And afterwards, show me, if thou wilt, thy daughter, to whom, as it seems, I am to be married, whether I will or no. And the King said: O thou model of the Creator’s cunning in the making of man, thy hilarity is excused. Food thou shalt have, and water, and everything else thou canst require, and that immediately. But as for my daughter, there she is before thee. And she could teach dancing even to Tumburu himself.

CHAPTER III.

And then, as the laughter surged again in Aja’s soul, saying within himself: Out on this pitiable old scarecrow of a King, whose only thought is dancing! the King turned, and stood aside. And Aja looked, and instantly, the laughter died out of his heart, which ceased as it were to beat. And he murmured to himself: Ha! this is the most wonderful thing of all. King and women and desert and all vanished out of his mind, as if the sentiment that suddenly seized it filled it so completely as to leave room for nothing else. And he stood still gazing, feeling as though he were spinning round, though he was standing still as death. For there before him stood this enigmatical King’s daughter. And like her father, she also seemed an incarnation of the soul of grief, not as in his case ignominious, and an object of derision, but rather resembling a heavenly drug, compounded of the camphor of the cold and midnight moon, that had put on a fragrant form of feminine and fairy beauty to drive the world to sheer distraction, half with love and half with woe. For like the silvery vision of the newborn streak of that Lord of Herbs, she was slender and pale and wan, formed as it seemed of some new strange essence of pure clear ice and new dropt snow, and she loomed on the soul of Aja out of the blackness of his trance like a large white drooping lily, just seen in the gloom of an inky night. And her hair and brow were the colour of a thunder-cloud in the month of Chaitra, and like that cloud, the heavy sorrow hung in her great dark mournful eyes, drenching him as it were with a shower of dusky dreamy dewy beauty, and drawing him down bewitched and lost like the victim of a haunted pool into the snaky eddy of their silent unfathomable recess. And yet her deep red lips trembled, as it were on the very border of a smile, as if they were hinting against their will of a mine of laughter and subtle snares that they were not allowed to use. And she had risen up to come and meet him, yet was hanging back as if reluctant, and so she stood, all reflected in the polished floor, with her head thrown back to look at him, for she was very small, like one on the very point of imploring help, yet shrinking, as if too proud to ask it from a stranger, balanced as it were between reliance on her own pure and pleading beauty and doubtfulness of its reception. So she halted irresolute, with glorious throat that was hovering still over the swell of her lifted breasts, poised as it were on the very verge of tumultuous oscillation, like that of Rati, preparing with timidity to cast herself at the feet of the three-eyed God, to beg back the body of her burned-up husband in a passion of love-lorn tears.

And Aja stood before her, like the sea when the digit of the moon rises suddenly over its waves, stirred with a tumult of strange emotions, and yet lit by a heavenly ray, a mass of agitated darkness mixed with dancing, trembling light; all unaware that he was himself to the King’s daughter exactly what she was to him, a weapon of bewilderment in the hands of the cunning god of the flowery bow, who shot him suddenly at her, like an arrow of intoxication, and pierced her through the very middle of the soft lotus of her heart.

So they two stood awhile in silence. And all at once, Aja spoke, not knowing that he spoke aloud. And he said, very slowly: How many husbands, then, have already had this lustrous beauty, who looks for all as pure and pale and undefiled as a new young delicate jasmine bud? And instantly, as if roused from sleep by his reproach, he saw the colour leap up into her cheek, and spread like dawn flushing over her burning throat and brow. And she drew a sudden breath, and her bosom heaved abruptly as if with a sob of shame. And at that moment, the voice of the King her father broke harshly into Aja’s dream, saying: Alas! alas! Never a husband has had her yet, though she is now long past sixteen, and could even teach Tumburu dancing.

And then, as if the King’s words had suddenly lifted a weight from his soul, Aja burst into a shout of laughter. And he tottered, as if to fall. And he caught at the old King’s arm, and gripped it so that he almost screamed, exclaiming amid his laughter: Ha! King, I am also the son of a King: and now I will be thy son-in law. And she shall have a husband at last, and teach him, if she pleases, dances, that even Tumburu does not know. And with that, he fell into such a paroxysm of laughter, that weak as he was, he could not stand, but fell: and his laughter turned to sobbing. Then the King’s daughter turned to her father, with an angry flush on her brow. And she said, with strong emotion: O father, wilt thou delay for ever to send for food and water? Dost thou not see that this King’s son, great and powerful though he be, is weak, and it may be, perishing, before thy face, of hunger and thirst, having escaped by a miracle out of the desert to die by thy neglect.

And she clapped her hands, stamping her foot in indignation. Then the women ran, and took up Aja, and carried him away. And they bathed him, and tended him, and fed him till he was recovered: and after a while, they brought him back, into the presence of the King.

CHAPTER IV.

So he came once more into that hall, looking like another man. And he seemed in the eyes of the King like the rising sun of his daughter’s marriage, but in those of his daughter like the very God of Love, newly risen from his own ashes. And he said joyously: O King, now I am again myself: and my reason and my strength have both again returned to me. And if in their absence, I behaved strangely and without good manners, it behoves thee to lay the blame rather on the desert of sand, that surrounds thy city, than on myself. For I was like one delirious, and half distracted, by wonder and other feelings coming to the aid of hunger and thirst. Then he told the King his name and family, and all his story, looking all the while at the King’s daughter, as she did all the while at him, with glances that resembled sighs. But as he watched her, Aja said to himself in wonder: What has happened to her, since I saw her first, and what is the matter with her, now? For her quiet grief has abandoned her, and she looks like one in a burning fever; and two red spots, like suns, burn and blaze upon her cheeks, and her great eyes shine and glow, as if there was a fire within her soul. So when he had finished his own tale, he said: Now, then, O King, I have told thee all that I have to tell. And now it is thy turn to speak. Explain to me all this wonder; for I seem to move in a maze of extraordinary events. Why are there, in thy city, no men, but only women? And what is the cause of thy grief? And, greatest wonder of all, how comes it that thou hast found a difficulty in finding a husband for this thy daughter? For, as for myself, know, that, make any terms thou wilt, I am ready to marry her, blindfold, on any conditions whatever: nay, would she only be my wife, I should consider the fruit of my birth attained.

And then, to his amazement, that strange old King began to weep once more. And tears flowed down his cheeks like rain, as he said: Alas! alas! O son-in-law that would be, so fine a man art thou, that I am distressed indeed to see thee, and to hear thee so eagerly proposing to take my daughter for thy wife. For all that have preceded thee, and they were many hundreds, have said the very same: and yet all without exception have come to a miserable end: and there she is, unmarried still. And yet this is no fault of hers, unless indeed it be a fault to be beautiful beyond compare. Nor has her maiden purity been sullied in the least degree by ever a suitor of them all. But all this has come about by reason of a fault of mine, itself, beyond a doubt, the bitter fruit of the tree of crimes committed in a former birth. For know, that long ago, when I was young, I conquered the entire earth, and brought it all, from sea to sea, under the shadow of one umbrella. So when I was reposing, after my exertions, one day there came to see me Narada and another rishi. And Narada entered first. And when he complimented me, as the chosen husband of the earth, I said to myself: Now, I must make him some suitable return. And accordingly, I presented him with the whole earth. Then he replied: O King, what is the use of the earth to me? And he gave it back to me, with his blessing, saying: Obtain an incomparably beautiful offspring! and so he went away. And then the other great rishi entered, and congratulated me also. And I presented him also with the entire earth. Then that rishi looked at me with eyes that were red with anger. And he said slowly: What! Is my merit utterly despised? Dost thou presume to offer me only the leavings of another? Thou shalt indeed obtain offspring, but only of the female sex. And beautiful it shall be indeed: but little shall that beauty profit either thyself or her. So having uttered his curse, he laughed, and instantly went away, refusing to be propitiated or to throw any light upon the future. And thereafter in due time there was born to me, not the nectar of a son, but this lump of grief in the form of a daughter. And as if her sex were not enough, her almost inconceivable beauty and accomplishments have only added to my calamity: nay, they are the very root of it, and the essence of its sting. For all has come to pass, exactly as that testy old rishi said. For though she is, as thou seest, beautiful as the moon, and like it, full of arts, and above all, a dancer that would turn even Tumburu green with envy, all this nectar has become poison by the curse of that old ascetic, and the very perfection of her beauty has become the means of undoing us both. For about two years ago, as we were walking together at midnight, on the terrace of the palace, that forms the edge of the city wall, enjoying the cold camphor of the moon after the heat of a burning day, suddenly, out of the desert, we heard as it were the rush of wings. And as we stood and listened, there arose in the air a sound of voices, like those of a man and woman in vehement dispute. But though we could distinguish the tones, we could not understand the meaning, for the language was unknown to us. And then, after a while, those two invisible air-goers appeared all at once before our eyes, seated on the battlements, in the form of a pair of vultures. And immediately, the male vulture spoke with a human voice, saying: O King, give me now this daughter of thine to wife. And instantly I answered rashly: Never will I bestow my daughter on a bird of ill-omen such as thou art. Thereupon that evil-minded suitor laughed like a hyaena: and instantly my daughter fell into a swoon. And as she lay in the moonlight, she looked so indescribably and unutterably beautiful, that even that loathsome bird was moved. And he said to his companion: Daughter, I was right, and thou wert wrong. Look, and see, and allow, that she is far more beautiful than even thou art. Thereupon that gridhri laughed also, and she said: Time shall show. Listen, King. This is Kirttisena, a nephew of Wasuki, King of the Snakes, and I am his only daughter. For this form of vulture was assumed by us, only to converse with thee. Now he maintained thy daughter to be more beautiful than I am. Thereupon I vowed vengeance. But I agreed to leave her unmolested, if thou didst give her to him for a wife. So to preserve her from my vengeance, he asked her of thee in marriage. Now, then, since thou hast rejected his suit, despising him hastily for his outward form, and since my own beauty has been slighted by his comparison, ye two shall be punished, she for her beauty, and thou for thy insolence, and through the means of that very beauty, on account of which my father and I have become contemptible. See, O thou who despisest a suitor, whether thou canst easily procure another. This shall be the condition of thy daughter’s marriage. Whatever suitor shall lay claim to her, thou shalt send up to this terrace alone at flight. And if he claims, and does not come, we will swallow thy city whole, houses and all. Then those two vultures disappeared. And not long afterwards, hearing that my daughter was to be given in marriage, suitors arrived like swarms of bees from every quarter of the world, attracted by her fame. For she is called Yashowati, because the fame of her fills the world. Then all those suitors followed one another, like the days of the year in which they went, up upon the terrace of the city wall: and like those days, not one of them all has ever returned, but they have vanished utterly, none knows how, or where. And when all the distant suitors were exhausted, and all the neighbouring kings, then, in my ardent desire to get her married, no matter how, to no matter whom, I offered her to the men of my own city, showing her to them from the palace windows. And every man that saw her ran to win her; and one by one, the men of the city followed after her former suitors, till they grew few in the city. Thereupon the women banded together, and took their husbands and their sons and everything in the shape of a man, and hid them: and now as thou seest, there is not a man to be seen or found, in the whole city. But every stranger that comes to the city, they catch, and bring him straight to me, as they have done in thy case also. And the mere sight of my daughter always makes him not only willing, but, as thou art, even eager, to marry her at any cost. And yet they have all utterly vanished, like stones, dropped, one after another, into a well without a floor. And there is my daughter, maiden and unmarried still. And I can see my ancestors, wringing their hands for grief: knowing well, that as soon as I myself am dead, it is all over with their race. For who will offer them water, since the fatal beauty of my only daughter has set a term to my ancient line?

So as Aja stood, lost in wonder at the old King’s story, his daughter suddenly rose to her feet with a shrill cry. And she exclaimed: O son of a King, fly quickly! Hence! away! back with thee even into the desert, and leave me and my father and this miserable city to our inevitable fate. And she sank down in a swoon, and would have fallen to the ground, but that Aja sprang quickly forward and caught her as she fell.

So as he stood, holding her in his arms, and wishing that her swoon might last for ever, so only that he held her, for she stole away his senses with the seduction of her fragrance and proximity, her father exclaimed, in dismay: Ha! this is something new, and a thing that has never occurred before. And what can be the matter now? O son of a King! she must have fallen in love with thee, as well indeed she might, for thy beauty and thy youth. And doubtless it has grieved her soul, to think of thy approaching end. But alas! alas! this is worse than all. For now, if thou fallest a victim, as cannot fail to be the case, like all thy predecessors, she will herself not survive thee: and then, indeed, there is an end of all. For as long as she was left to be married, there was still a shadow of hope behind.

And he began to ramble about, wringing his hands for grief. But Aja said to himself, with joy: Ha! this was all I wanted, if only it be true. And he said to the King: O King, it will be time enough to afflict thyself for her death or for mine, when we have actually died. But count me, in the meantime, as thy son-in-law: and be under no anxiety as to the fate of thy ancestors. For I will guarantee their good condition: and this very night, I will rid thee of the evil demon that molests her. And to-morrow, I will take this hand, and lead her round the fire.

And he took her hand, as she lay in his arms, and touched it with his lips.

CHAPTER V.

And instantly, as though his kiss had been to her like sandal and like palm-leaf fans, she came back to herself. And when she saw who held her, she started up, and stood, blushing the colour of her own lips, with eyes cast upon the ground. And the King said: O daughter, what is this? Does it become a high caste maiden outwardly to exhibit her inward feelings, and abandon the straight line of virgin modesty by behaviour that betrays her heart?

And then, Yashowati sighed deeply. And she looked for a while in silence, first at her father, and then at Aja: and all at once, she stood erect, like one seized by sudden resolution, and she clapped her hands together, and exclaimed, in a voice that shook and quivered with emotion: Ha! who can hide a forest fire by covering it over with a little straw, or what does maiden conduct matter, in the ruin of the three worlds! Aye! the fire of grief consumed me, to see this noble son of a king, and to think that he escaped the desert only to meet his death from me. Now has my punishment come upon me in the form of this tall and splendid youth. For I grieved for the fate of my former suitors, and yet I saw them for all that go, one by one, to their useless doom, and still myself remained alive. Long ago, beyond a doubt, I ought myself to have left the body, and perished of my own accord, rather than consent to live, the cause of death to so many others: and by putting myself to death, I should have cut in two the fatal chain of their succession, and saved their lives by the substitute of my own. And now, instead, I have been as it were their murderess, and a death to them all in female form. And now the Deity has avenged them, by sending to me at last the God of Love in human shape, whose death will be a grief to me a hundred fold more awful than any death I could have died. And I myself shall not survive him. Then why waste time in chiding one who has but one more day to live? For as soon as night arrives, he must go like the rest to meet his doom: and certain it is, that I shall not live to see the sun rise again without him.

And as she spoke, they gazed at her, astonished. For she seemed like one that has burst the bonds of all restraint, and thrown all consideration to the eight quarters of the world. But as soon as she stopped, the old King uttered a doleful cry. And he exclaimed: Yashowati, O daughter, what words are these? Is it any fault of thine that thou art beautiful? And wilt thou talk of abandoning the body? Then what will become of the family, of which thou art the only hope? But Aja laughed: and he said: O lovely lady, waste not thy grief on such a thing as I am: and O father-in-law, cease from bewailing calamities that are only the shadows of thy own fears cast upon the dark curtain of the future. For many are they that are doomed to die, yet never perish after all. And I have not escaped the sand, to perish lightly in any other way. Be assured that the lamp of thy race is burning still with a steady flame, not to be extinguished by a little puff of wind. To-morrow we will laugh together over these idle apprehensions, which the rising sun will dissipate together with the mists of night.

But Yashowati turned, and looked at him with steady eyes. And she said: My husband, for such indeed thou art, the first that I have ever chosen, and the last that shall ever claim my hand: dost thou think that I would have so far forgotten the reserve that is becoming to a maiden of my caste, as to offer myself like an abhisarika, but that I know, as thou canst not know it, the absolute and utterly inevitable certainty of thy doom, and that this is the very last day we shall spend together, though it is also the very first? And Aja looked at her with affection: and he laughed again. And he said: Sweet wife, since thou art so very certain, then as it must be, let it be. What care I for to-morrow, if I am with thee all to-day? Know, that but an hour ago, when first I saw thee, I would have given my life, doubly dear as it was by reason of its recent escape from death, to win from thee a little love, even a very little. But as it is, a single day is life enough, provided it is spent with thee, even though I were really destined never to see another.

And she looked at him with wistful eyes; and after a while, she said: Thou art brave, and as I would have had thee. And thou dost not believe me: and it may be, it is better so. And then she turned to the King, and said: O father, go away now: and leave me alone with my husband. And be not afraid, either for thy honour or my own, for there shall be as it were a sword between us. But I wish to have him all to myself, until the end. And when the time has come, let the gong be sounded, and I will send him out to thee, and thou canst show him the way to death. And thereupon the old King went away as she desired, moaning and muttering, and wringing his hands with grief.

So when he was gone, those two lovers sat together all day long, gazing at each other like the sunflower and the sun. And he utterly forgot the morrow, but it never left her mind, even for a single instant. And she made him relate to her his whole life from the very beginning, drinking in his words, and hanging on his lips, and watching him keenly, with eyes that never left his face, holding all the while his hand, with the grasp of one who knows that her husband must be led to execution in the evening. And she said to herself, at every moment: Still he is here: still he is here. And when the sun set, she sent for food and delicacies and wine, and fed him like a child with her own hand, tasting herself nothing. And she surfeited him with the honey of her sweetness and the syrup of her kisses and the nectar of the young new moon of beauty bathed in the sun of love, the redder because of its approaching set. And all at once, she started to her feet, in the very middle of a caress. And she stood, listening. And Aja listened also: and he heard in the silence the sound of a gong.

So as he watched her, she turned paler and ever paler, like the east at the break of dawn. And she put her two hands together, and pressed them tight against her heart, and then against her brow. And all at once, she came quickly to him, and said in a low voice: It is time. And she took his head in her hands, and kissed him, with lips that were cold as ice, and yet hot as fire, first on the eyes, and then on the mouth, and last of all upon the brow. And then she took his hand, and held it for a little while, with a clutch that almost hurt him, gazing at him with thirsty eyes. And suddenly, she threw away his hand, and pushed him away roughly, saying: Go. But Aja caught her in his arms, and kissed her yet again, as it were against her will. And he said: O fearful heart, be not afraid. Very soon, I will return. And he went away quickly, but at the door he turned, and saw her standing still, watching him with dry bright eyes, and lips that were shut tight. And at that very moment, the old King took him by the arm, and said: Come now, and I will show thee the way by which all thy predecessors went before thee.

Then Aja said: O King, I am unarmed. Give me a weapon to carry with me. So the King took him into the armoury, and he chose for himself a sword almost as long as he was tall. But he threw away the scabbard, saying: This would only be in the way: and now, I am prepared. And then the King led him away, and up a winding stair.

And when they were at the top, he stopped. And he said: O son-in-law that might have been, now fare thee well. And even I feel it harder to part with thee than with any of thy predecessors. Thou wouldst have made an altogether appropriate husband for my daughter, and O! that thou couldst have seen her dance, before thus disappearing: but now it is too late, for I doubt whether Tumburu himself could make her dance to-night, so troubled did she seem to be at bidding thee good bye. Go out, now, through yonder door: and thou wilt be more fortunate than all the others, if thou canst manage to return through it.

Then he went back into the palace. But Aja passed through the door, and found himself on the city wall.