"Ay! why not, love? Surely they cannot live happy in what the world calls single blessedness," replied the young king. As bridegrooms sometimes are for a short time, he was very warm upon the subject of matrimony.

Thereupon, without consulting the parties chiefly concerned in their scheme, the master and mistress, after being comfortably settled at the end of their journey, caused a large cage to be brought, and put into it both their favourites.

Upon which Churaman the parrot leaned his head on one side and directed a peculiar look at the jay. But Madan-manjari raised her beak high in the air, puffed through it once or twice, and turned away her face in extreme disdain.

"Perhaps," quoth the parrot, at length breaking silence, "you will tell me that you have no desire to be married?"

"Probably," replied the jay.

"And why?" asked the male bird.

"Because I don't choose," replied the female.

"Truly a feminine form of resolution this," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the parrot. "I will borrow my master's words and call it a woman's reason, that is to say, no reason at all. Have you any objection to be more explicit?"

"None whatever," retorted the jay, provoked by the rude innuendo into telling more plainly than politely exactly what she thought; "none whatever, sir parrot. You he-things are all of you sinful, treacherous, deceitful, selfish, devoid of conscience, and accustomed to sacrifice us, the weaker s.e.x, to your smallest desire or convenience."

"Of a truth, fair lady," quoth the young Raja Ram to his bride, "this pet of thine is sufficiently impudent."

"Let her words be as wind in thine ear, master," interrupted the parrot.

"And pray, Mistress Jay, what are you she-things but treacherous, false, ignorant, and avaricious beings, whose only wish in this world is to prevent life being as pleasant as it might be?"

"Verily, my love," said the beautiful Chandravati to her bridegroom, "this thy bird has a habit of expressing his opinions in a very free and easy way."

"I can prove what I a.s.sert," whispered the jay in the ear of the princess.

"We can confound their feminine minds by an anecdote," whispered the parrot in the ear of the prince.

Briefly, King Vikram, it was settled between the twain that each should establish the truth of what it had advanced by an ill.u.s.tration in the form of a story.

Chandravati claimed, and soon obtained, precedence for the jay. Then the wonderful bird, Madan-manjari, began to speak as follows:--

I have often told thee, O queen, that before coming to thy feet, my mistress was Ratnawati, the daughter of a rich trader, the dearest, the sweetest, the----

Here the jay burst into tears, and the mistress was sympathetically affected. Presently the speaker resumed----

However, I antic.i.p.ate. In the city of Ilapur there was a wealthy merchant, who was without offspring; on this account he was continually fasting and going on pilgrimage, and when at home he was ever engaged in reading the Puranas and in giving alms to the Brahmans.

At length, by favour of the Deity, a son was born to this merchant, who celebrated his birth with great pomp and rejoicing, and gave large gifts to Brahmans and to bards, and distributed largely to the hungry, the thirsty, and the poor. When the boy was five years old he had him taught to read, and when older he was sent to a guru, who had formerly himself been a student, and who was celebrated as teacher and lecturer.

In the course of time the merchant's son grew up. Praise be to Brahma!

what a wonderful youth it was, with a face like a monkey's, legs like a stork's, and a back like a camel's. You know the old proverb:--

Expect thirty-two villanies from the limping, and eighty from the one-eyed man, But when the hunchback comes, say "Lord defend us!"

Instead of going to study, he went to gamble with other ne'er-do-weels, to whom he talked loosely, and whom he taught to be bad-hearted as himself. He made love to every woman, and despite his ugliness, he was not unsuccessful. For they are equally fortunate who are very handsome or very ugly, in so far as they are both remarkable and remarked. But the latter bear away the palm. Beautiful men begin well with women, who do all they can to attract them, love them as the apples of their eyes, discover them to be fools, hold them to be their equals, deceive them, and speedily despise them. It is otherwise with the ugly man, who, in consequence of his homeliness, must work his wits and take pains with himself, and become as pleasing as he is capable of being, till women forget his ape's face, bird's legs, and bunchy back.

The hunchback, moreover, became a Tantri, so as to complete his villanies. He was duly initiated by an apostate Brahman, made a declaration that he renounced all the ceremonies of his old religion, and was delivered from their yoke, and proceeded to perform in token of joy an abominable rite. In company with eight men and eight women-a Brahman female, a dancing girl, a weaver's daughter, a woman of ill fame, a washerwoman, a barber's wife, a milkmaid, and the daughter of a land-owner--choosing the darkest time of night and the most secret part of the house, he drank with them, was sprinkled and anointed, and went through many ign.o.ble ceremonies, such as sitting nude upon a dead body.

The teacher informed him that he was not to indulge shame, or aversion to anything, nor to prefer one thing to another, nor to regard caste, ceremonial cleanness or uncleanness, but freely to enjoy all the pleasures of sense-that is, of course, wine and us, since we are the representatives of the wife of Cupid, and wine prevents the senses from going astray. And whereas holy men, holding that the subjugation or annihilation of the pa.s.sions is essential to final beat.i.tude, accomplish this object by bodily austerities, and by avoiding temptation, he proceeded to blunt the edge of the pa.s.sions with excessive indulgence.

And he jeered at the pious, reminding them that their ascetics are safe only in forests, and while keeping a perpetual fast; but that he could subdue his pa.s.sions in the very presence of what they most desired.

Presently this excellent youth's father died, leaving him immense wealth. He blunted his pa.s.sions so piously and so vigorously, that in very few years his fortune was dissipated. Then he turned towards his neighbour's goods and prospered for a time, till being discovered robbing, he narrowly escaped the stake. At length he exclaimed, "Let the G.o.ds perish! the rascals send me nothing but ill luck!" and so saying he arose and fled from his own country.

Chance led that villain hunchback to the city of Chandrapur, where, hearing the name of my master Hemgupt, he recollected that one of his father's wealthiest correspondents was so called. Thereupon, with his usual audacity, he presented himself at the house, walked in, and although he was clothed in tatters, introduced himself, told his father's name and circ.u.mstances, and wept bitterly.

The good man was much astonished, and not less grieved, to see the son of his old friend in such woful plight. He rose up, however, embraced the youth, and asked the reason of his coming.

"I freighted a vessel," said the false hunchback, "for the purpose of trading to a certain land. Having gone there, I disposed of my merchandise, and, taking another cargo, I was on my voyage home.

Suddenly a great storm arose, and the vessel was wrecked, and I escaped on a plank, and after a time arrived here. But I am ashamed, since I have lost all my wealth, and I cannot show my face in this plight in my own city. My excellent father would have consoled me with his pity. But now that I have carried him and my mother to Ganges,[75] every one will turn against me; they will rejoice in my misfortunes, they will accuse me of folly and recklessness--alas! alas! I am truly miserable."

My dear master was deceived by the cunning of the wretch. He offered him hospitality, which was readily enough accepted, and he entertained him for some time as a guest. Then, having reason to be satisfied with his conduct, Hemgupt admitted him to his secrets, and finally made him a partner in his business. Briefly, the villain played his cards so well, that at last the merchant said to himself:

"I have had for years an anxiety and a calamity in my house. My neighbours whisper things to my disadvantage, and those who are bolder speak out with astonishment amongst themselves, saying, 'At seven or eight, people marry their daughters, and this indeed is the appointment of the law: that period is long since gone; she is now thirteen or fourteen years old, and she is very tall and l.u.s.ty, resembling a married woman of thirty. How can her father eat his rice with comfort and sleep with satisfaction, whilst such a disreputable thing exists in his house? At present he is exposed to shame, and his deceased friends are suffering through his retaining a girl from marriage beyond the period which nature has prescribed.' And now, while I am sitting quietly at home, the Bhagwan (Deity) removes all my uneasiness: by his favour such an opportunity occurs. It is not right to delay. It is best that I shall give my daughter in marriage to him. Whatever can be done to-day is best; who knows what may happen to-morrow?"

Thus thinking, the old man went to his wife and said to her, "Birth, marriage, and death are all under the direction of the G.o.ds; can anyone say when they will be ours? We want for our daughter a young man who is of good birth, rich and handsome, clever and honourable. But we do not find him. If the bridegroom be faulty, thou sayest, all will go wrong.

I cannot put a string round the neck of our daughter and throw her into the ditch. If, however, thou think well of the merchant's son, now my partner, we will celebrate Ratnawati's marriage with him."

The wife, who had been won over by the hunchback's hypocrisy, was also pleased, and replied, "My lord! when the Deity so plainly indicates his wish, we should do it; since, though we have sat quietly at home, the desire of our hearts is accomplished. It is best that no delay be made: and, having quickly summoned the family priest, and having fixed upon a propitious planetary conjunction, that the marriage be celebrated."

Then they called their daughter--ah, me! what a beautiful being she was, and worthy the love of a Gandharva (demiG.o.d). Her long hair, purple with the light of youth, was glossy as the bramra's[76] wing; her brow was pure and clear as the agate; the ocean-coral looked pale beside her lips, and her teeth were as two chaplets of pearls. Everything in her was formed to be loved. Who could look into her eyes without wishing to do it again? Who could hear her voice without hoping that such music would sound once more? And she was good as she was fair. Her father adored her; her mother, though a middle-aged woman, was not envious or jealous of her; her relatives doted on her, and her friends could find no fault with her. I should never end were I to tell her precious qualities. Alas, alas! my poor Ratnawati!

So saying, the jay wept abundant tears; then she resumed:

When her parents informed my mistress of their resolution, she replied, "Sadhu-it is well!" She was not like most young women, who hate nothing so much as a man whom their seniors order them to love. She bowed her head and promised obedience, although, as she afterwards told her mother, she could hardly look at her intended, on account of his prodigious ugliness. But presently the hunchback's wit surmounted her disgust. She was grateful to him for his attention to her father and mother; she esteemed him for his moral and religious conduct; she pitied him for his misfortunes, and she finished with forgetting his face, legs, and back in her admiration of what she supposed to be his mind.

She had vowed before marriage faithfully to perform all the duties of a wife, however distasteful to her they might be; but after the nuptials, which were not long deferred, she was not surprised to find that she loved her husband. Not only did she omit to think of his features and figure; I verily believe that she loved him the more for his repulsiveness. Ugly, very ugly men prevail over women for two reasons.

Firstly, we begin with repugnance, which in the course of nature turns to affection; and we all like the most that which, when unaccustomed to it, we most disliked. Hence the poet says, with as much truth as is in the male:

Never despair, O man! when woman's spite Detests thy name and sickens at thy sight: Sometime her heart shall learn to love thee more For the wild hatred which it felt before, &c.

Secondly, the very ugly man appears, deceitfully enough, to think little of his appearance, and he will give himself the trouble to pursue a heart because he knows that the heart will not follow after him.

Moreover, we women (said the jay) are by nature pitiful, and this our enemies term a "strange perversity." A widow is generally disconsolate if she loses a little, wizen-faced, shrunken shanked, ugly, spiteful, distempered thing that scolded her and quarrelled with her, and beat her and made her hours bitter; whereas she will follow her husband to Ganges with exemplary fort.i.tude if he was brave, handsome, generous----

"Either hold your tongue or go on with your story," cried the warrior king, in whose mind these remarks awakened disagreeable family reflections.

"Hi! hi! hi!" laughed the demon; "I will obey your majesty, and make Madan-manjari, the misanthropical jay, proceed."

Yes, she loved the hunchback; and how wonderful is our love! quoth the jay. A light from heaven which rains happiness on this dull, dark earth!

A spell falling upon the spirit, which reminds us of a higher existence!

A memory of bliss! A present delight! An earnest of future felicity!

It makes hideousness beautiful and stupidity clever, old age young and wickedness good, moroseness amiable, and low-mindedness magnanimous, perversity pretty and vulgarity piquant. Truly it is sovereign alchemy and excellent flux for blending contradictions is our love, exclaimed the jay.

And so saying, she cast a triumphant look at the parrot, who only remarked that he could have desired a little more originality in her remarks.

For some months (resumed Madan-manjari), the bride and the bridegroom lived happily together in Hemgupt's house. But it is said:

Never yet did the tiger become a lamb;