The Ninth Vibration, et. al.
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L. Adams Beck >> The Ninth Vibration, et. al.
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(Ashes - ashes! May Maheshwara have mercy upon her rebirths!)
Throughout India had run the fame of this beauty. In the bazaar
of Kashmir they told of it. It was recorded in the palaces of
Travancore, and all the lands that lay between; and in an evil
hour - may the Gods curse the mother that bore him! - it reached
the ears of Allah-u- Din, the Moslem dog, a very great fighting
man who sat in Middle India, looting and spoiling.
(Ahi! for the beauty that is as a burning flame!)
In the gardens beneath the windows of the Queen, the peacocks,
those maharajas of the birds, were spreading the bronze and
emerald of their tails. The sun shone on them as on heaps of
jewels, so that they dazzled the eyes. They stood about the feet
of the ancient Brahmin sage, he who had tutored the Queen in her
childhood and given her wisdom as the crest-jeweled of her
loveliness. He, the Twice-born sat under the shade of a neem
tree, hearing the gurgle of the sacred waters from the Cow's
Mouth, where the great tank shone under the custard-apple boughs;
and, at peace with all the world, he read in the Scripture which
affirms the transience of all things drifting across the thought
of the Supreme like clouds upon the surface of the Ocean.
(Ahi! that loveliness is also illusion!)
Her women placed about the Queen - that Lotus of Women - a robe
of silk of which none could say that it was green or blue, the
noble colours so mingled into each other under the latticed gold
work of Kashi. They set the jewels on her head, and wide thin
rings of gold heavy with great pearls in her ears. Upon the swell
of her bosom they clasped the necklace of table emeralds, large,
deep, and full of green lights, which is the token of the Chitor
queens. Upon her slender ankles they placed the chooris of pure
soft gold, set also with grass-green emeralds, and the delicate
souls of her feet they reddened with lac. Nor were her arms
forgotten, but loaded with bangles so free from alloy that they
could be bent between the hands of a child. Then with fine paste
they painted the Symbol between her dark brows, and, rising, she
shone divine as a nymph of heaven who should cause the righteous
to stumble in his austerities and arrest even the glances of
Gods.
(Ahi! that the Transient should be so fair!)
II
Now it was the hour that the Rana should visit her; for since the
coming of the Lotus Lady, be had forgotten his other women, and
in her was all his heart. He came from the Hall of Audience where
petitions were heard, and justice done to rich and poor; and as
he came, the Queen, hearing his step on the stone, dismissed her
women, and smiling to know her loveliness, bowed before him, even
as the Goddess Uma bows before Him who is her other half.
Now he was a tall man, with the falcon look of the Hill Rajputs,
and moustaches that curled up to his eyes, lion-waisted and lean
in the flanks like Arjoon himself, a very ruler of men; and as he
came, his hand was on the hilt of the sword that showed beneath
his gold coat of khincob. On the high cushions he sat, and the
Rani a step beneath him; and she said, raising her lotus eyes:-
"Speak, Aryaputra, (son of a noble father)-what hath befallen?"
And he, looking upon her beauty with fear, replied,-
"It is thy beauty, 0 wife, that brings disaster."
"And how is this?" she asked very earnestly.
For a moment he paused, regarding her as might a stranger, as one
who considers a beauty in which he hath no part; and, drawn by
this strangeness, she rose and knelt beside him, pillowing her
head upon his heart.
"Say on," she said in her voice of music.
He unfurled a scroll that he had crushed in his strong right
hand, and read aloud:-
"`Thus says Allah-u-Din, Shadow of God, Wonder of the Age,
Viceregent of Kings. We have heard that in the Treasury of Chitor
is a jewel, the like of which is not in the Four Seas - the work
of the hand of the Only God, to whom be praise! This jewel is thy
Queen, the Lady Padmini. Now, since the sons of the Prophet are
righteous, I desire but to look upon this jewel, and ascribing
glory to the Creator, to depart in peace. Granted requests are
the bonds of friendship; therefore lay the head of acquiescence
in the dust of opportunity and name an auspicious day.'"
He crushed it again and flung it furiously from him on the
marble.
"The insult is deadly. The soor! son of a debased mother! Well he
knows that to the meanest Rajput his women are sacred, and how
much more the daughters and wives of the Kings! The jackals feast
on the tongue that speaks this shame! But it is a threat, Beloved
- a threat! Give me thy counsel that never failed me yet."
For the Rajputs take counsel with their women who are wise.
They were silent, each weighing the force of resistance that
could be made; and this the Rani knew even as he.
"It cannot be," she said; "the very ashes of the dead would
shudder to hear. Shall the Queens of India be made the sport of
the barbarians?"
Her husband looked upon her fair face. She could feel his heart
labor beneath her ear.
"True, wife; but the barbarians are strong. Our men are tigers,
each one, but the red dogs of the Dekkan can pull down the tiger,
for they are many, and he alone."
Then that great Lady, accepting his words, and conscious of the
danger, murmured this, clinging to her husband:-
"There was a Princess of our line whose beauty made all other
women seem as waning moons in the sun's splendour. And many great
Kings sought her, and there was contention and war. And, she,
fearing that the Rajputs would be crushed to powder between the
warring Kings, sent unto each this message: `Come on such and
such a day, and thou shalt see my face and hear my choice.' And
they, coming, rejoiced exceedingly, thinking each one that he was
the Chosen. So they came into the great Hall, and there was a
table, and somewhat upon it covered with a gold cloth; and an old
veiled woman lifted the gold, and the head of the Princess lay
there with the lashes like night upon her cheek, and between her
lips was a little scroll, saying this: `I have chosen my Lover
and my Lord, and he is mightiest, for he is Death.' - So the
Kings went silently away. And there was Peace."
The music of her voice ceased, and the Rana clasped her closer.
"This I cannot do. Better die together. Let us take counsel with
the ancient Brahman, thy guru [teacher], for he is very wise."
She clapped her hands, and the maidens returned, and, bowing,
brought the venerable Prabhu Narayan into the Presence, and again
those roses retired.
Respectful salutation was then offered by the King and the Queen
to that saint, hoary with wisdom - he who had seen her grow into
the loveliness of the sea-born Shri, yet had never seen that
loveliness; for he had never raised his eyes above the chooris
about her ankles. To him the King related his anxieties; and he
sat rapt in musing, and the two waited in dutiful silence until
long minutes had fallen away; and at the last he lifted his head,
weighted with wisdom, and spoke.
"0 King, Descendant of Rama! this outrage cannot be. Yet, knowing
the strength and desire of this obscene one and the weakness of
our power, it is plain that only with cunning can cunning be met.
Hear, therefore, the history of the Fox and the Drum.
"A certain Fox searched for food in the jungle, and so doing
beheld a tree on which hung a drum; and when the boughs knocked
upon the parchment, it sounded aloud. Considering, he believed
that so round a form and so great a voice must portend much good
feeding. Neglecting on this account a fowl that fed near by, he
ascended to the drum. The drum being rent was but air and
parchment, and meanwhile the fowl fled away. And from the eye of
folly he shed the tear of disappointment, having bartered the
substance for the shadow. So must we act with this budmash
[scoundrel]. First, receiving his oath that he will depart
without violence, hid him hither to a great feast, and say that
he shall behold the face of the Queen in a mirror. Provide that
some fair woman of the city show her face, and then let him
depart in peace, showing him friendship. He shall not know he
hath not seen the beauty he would befoul."
After consultation, no better way could be found; but the heart
of the great Lady was heavy with foreboding.
(A hi! that Beauty should wander a pilgrim in the ways of
sorrow!)
To Allah-u-Din therefore did the King dispatch this letter by
swift riders on mares of Mewar.
After salutations - "Now whereas thou hast said thou wouldest
look upon the beauty of the Treasure of Chitor, know it is not
the custom of the Rajputs that any eye should light upon their
treasure. Yet assuredly, when requests arise between friends,
there cannot fail to follow distress of mind and division of soul
if these are ungranted. So, under promises that follow, I bid
thee to a feast at my poor house of Chitor, and thou shalt see
that beauty reflected in a mirror, and so seeing, depart in peace
from the house of a friend."
This being writ by the Twice-Born, the Brahman, did the Rana sign
with bitter rage in his heart. And the days passed.
III
On a certain day found fortunate by the astrologers - a day of
early winter, when the dawns were pure gold and the nights
radiant with a cool moon - did a mighty troop of Moslems set
their camp on the plain of Chitor. It was as if a city had
blossomed in an hour. Those who looked from the walls muttered
prayers to the Lord of the Trident; for these men seemed like the
swarms of the locust - people, warriors all, fierce fighting-men.
And in the ways of Chitor, and up the steep and winding causeway
from the plains, were warriors also, the chosen of the Rajputs,
thick as blades of corn hedging the path.
(Ahi! that the blossom of beauty should have swords for thorns!)
Then, leaving his camp, attended by many Chiefs, - may the
mothers and sires that begot them be accursed! - came
Allah-u-Din, riding toward the Lower Gate, and so upward along
the causeway, between the two rows of men who neither looked nor
spoke, standing like the carvings of war in the Caves of Ajunta.
And the moon was rising through the sunset as he came beneath the
last and seventh gate. Through the towers and palaces he rode
with his following, but no woman, veiled or unveiled, - no, not
even an outcast of the city, - was there to see him come; only
the men, armed and silent. So he turned to Munim Khan that rode
at his bridle, saying,-
"Let not the eye of watchfulness close this night on the pillow
of forgetfulness!"
And thus he entered the palace.
Very great was the feast in Chitor, and the wines that those
accursed should not drink (since the Outcast whom they call their
Prophet forbade them) ran like water, and at the right hand of
Allah-u-Din was set the great crystal Cup inlaid with gold by a
craft that is now perished; and he filled and refilled it - may
his own Prophet curse the swine!
But because the sons of Kings eat not with the outcasts, the Rana
entered after, clothed in chain armor of blue steel, and having
greeted him, bid him to the sight of that Treasure. And
Allah-u-Din, his eyes swimming with wine, and yet not drunken,
followed, and the two went alone.
Purdahs [curtains] of great splendour were hung in the great Hall
that is called the Raja's Hall, exceeding rich with gold, and in
front of the opening was a kneeling-cushion, and an a gold stool
before it a polished mirror.
(Ahi! for gold and beauty, the scourges of the world!)
And the Rana was pale to the lips.
Now as the Princes stood by the purdah, a veiled woman, shrouded
in white so that no shape could he seen in her, came forth from
within, and kneeling upon the cushion, she unveiled her face
bending until the mirror, like a pool of water, held it, and that
only. And the King motioned his guest to look, and he looked over
her veiled shoulder and saw. Very great was the bowed beauty that
the mirror held, but Allah-u-Din turned to the Rana.
"By the Bread and the Salt, by the Guest-Right, by the Honour of
thy House, I ask - is this the Treasure of Chitor?"
And since the Sun-Descended cannot lie, no, not though they
perish, the Rana answered, flushing darkly, - "This is not the
Treasure. Wilt thou spare?"
But he would not, and the woman slipped like a shadow behind the
purdah and no word said.
Then was heard the tinkling of chooris, and the little noise fell
upon the silence like a fear, and, parting the curtains, came a
woman veiled like the other. She did not kneel, but took the
mirror in her hand, and Allah-u-Din drew up behind her back. From
her face she raised the veil of gold Dakka webs, and gazed into
the mirror, holding it high, and that Accursed stumbled back,
blinded with beauty, saying this only,- "I have seen the Treasure
of Chitor."
So the purdah fell about her.
The next day, after the Imaum of the Accursed had called them to
prayer, they departed, and Allah-u-Din, paying thanks to the Rana
for honours given and taken, and swearing friendship, besought
him to ride to his camp, to see the marvels of gold and steel
armor brought down from the passes, swearing also safe-conduct.
And because the Rajputs trust the word even of a foe, he went.
(A hi! that honour should strike hands with traitors!)
IV
The hours went by, heavy-footed like mourners. Padmini the Rani
knelt by the window in her tower that overlooks the plains.
Motionless she knelt there, as the Goddess Uma lost in her
penances, and she saw her Lord ride forth, and the sparkle of
steel where the sun shone on them, and the Standard of the Cold
Disk on its black ground. So the camp of the Moslem swallowed
them up, and they returned no more. Still she knelt and none
dared speak with her; and as the first shade of evening fell
across the hills of Rajasthan, she saw a horseman spurting over
the flat; and he rode like the wind, and, seeing, she implored
the Gods.
Then entered the Twice-Born, that saint of clear eyes, and he
bore a scroll; and she rose and seated herself, and he stood by
her, as her ladies cowered like frightened doves before the woe
in his face as he read.
"To the Rose of Beauty, The Pearl among Women, the Chosen of the
Palace. Who, having seen thy loveliness, can look on another?
Who, having tasted the wine of the Houris, but thirsts forever?
Behold, I have thy King as hostage. Come thou and deliver him. I
have sworn that he shall return in thy place."
And from a smaller scroll, the Brahman read this:-
"I am fallen in the snare. Act thou as becomes a Rajputni."
Then that Daughter of the Sun lifted her head, for the thronging
of armed feet was heard in the Council Hall below. From the floor
she caught her veil and veiled herself in haste, and the Brahman
with bowed head followed, while her women mourned aloud. And,
descending, between the folds of the purdah she appeared white
and veiled, and the Brahman beside her, and the eyes of all the
Princes were lowered to her shrouded feet, while the voice they
had not heard fell silvery upon the air, and the echoes of the
high roof repeated it.
"Chief of the Rajputs, what is your counsel?" And he of Marwar
stepped forward, and not rais- ing his eyes above her feet,
answered,-
"Queen, what is thine?"
For the Rajputs have ever heard the voice of their women.
And she said,-
"I counsel that I die and my head be sent to him, that my blood
may quench his desire."
And each talked eagerly with the other, but amid the tumult the
Twice-Born said,-
"This is not good talk. In his rage he will slay the King. By my
yoga, I have seen it. Seek another way."
So they sought, but could determine nothing, and they feared to
ride against the dog, for he held the life of the King; and the
tumult was great, but all were for the King's safety.
Then once more she spoke.
"Seeing it is determined that the King's life is more than my
honour, I go this night. In your hand I leave my little son, the
Prince Ajeysi. Prepare my litters, seven hundred of the best, for
all my women go with me. Depart now, for I have a thought from
the Gods."
Then, returning to her bower, she spoke this letter to the saint,
and he wrote it, and it was sent to the camp.
After salutations - "Wisdom and strength have attained their end.
Have ready for release the Rana of Chitor, for this night I come
with my ladies, the prize of the conqueror."
When the sun sank, a great procession with torches descended the
steep way of Chitor - seven hundred litters, and in the first was
borne the Queen, and all her women followed.
All the streets were thronged with women, weeping and beating
their breasts. Very greatly they wept, and no men were seen, for
their livers were black within them for shame as the Treasure of
Chitor departed, nor would they look upon the sight. And across
the plains went that procession; as if the stars had fallen upon
the earth, so glittered the sorrowful lights of the Queen.
But in the camp was great rejoicing, for the Barbarians knew that
many fair women attended on her.
Now, before the entrance to the camp they had made a great
shamiana [tent] ready, hung with shawls of Kashmir and the
plunder of Delhi; and there was set a silk divan for the Rani,
and beside it stood the Loser and the Gainer, Allah-u-Din and the
King, awaiting the Treasure.
Veiled she entered, stepping proudly, and taking no heed of the
Moslem, she stood before her husband, and even through the veil
he could feel the eyes he knew.
And that Accursed spoke, laughing.
"I have won-I have won, 0 King! Bid farewell to the Chosen of the
Palace - the Beloved of the Viceregent of Kings!"
Then she spoke softly, delicately, in her own tongue, that the
outcast should not guess the matter of her speech.
"Stand by me. Stir not. And when I raise my arm, cry the cry of
the Rajputs. NOW!"
And she flung her arm above her head, and instantly, like a lion
roaring, he shouted, drawing his sword, and from every litter
sprang an armed man, glittering in steel, and the bearers, humble
of mien, were Rajput knights, every one.
And Allah-u-Din thrust at the breast of the Queen; but around
them surged the war, and she was hedged with swords like a rose
in the thickets.
Very full of wine, dull with feasting and lust and surprised, the
Moslems fled across the plains, streaming in a broken rabble,
cursing and shouting like low-caste women; and the Rajputs,
wiping their swords, returned from the pursuit and laughed upon
each other.
But what shall be said of the joy of the King and of her who had
imagined this thing, in- structed of the Goddess who is the other
half of her Lord?
So the procession returned, singing, to Chitor with those Two in
the midst; but among the dogs that fled was Allah-u-Din, his face
blackened with shame and wrath, the curses choking in his foul
throat.
(Aid! that the evil still walk the ways of the world!)
V
So the time went by and the beauty of the Queen grew, and her
King could see none but hers. Like the moon she obscured the
stars, and every day he remembered her wisdom, her valour, and
his soul did homage at her feet, and there was great content in
Chitor.
It chanced one day that the Queen, looking from her high window
that like an eagle's nest overhung the precipice, saw, on the
plain beneath, a train of men, walking like ants, and each
carried a basket on his back, and behind them was a cloud of dust
like a great army. Already the city was astir because of this
thing, and the rumours came thick and the spies were sent out.
In the dark they returned, and the Rana entered the bower of
Padmini, his eyes burning like coal with hate and wrath, and he
flung his arm round his wife like a shield.
"He is returned, and in power. Counsel me again, 0 wife, for
great is thy wisdom!"
But she answered only this,-
"Fight, for this time it is to the death."
Then each day she watched bow the baskets of earth, emptied upon
the plain at first, made nothing, an ant heap whereat fools might
laugh. But each day as the trains of men came, spilling their
baskets, the great earthworks grew and their height mounted. Day
after day the Rajputs rode forth and slew; and as they slew it
seemed that all the teeming millions of the earth came forth to
take the places of the slain. And the Rajputs fell also, and
under the pennons the thundering forces returned daily, thinned
of their best.
(A hi! that Evil rules the world as God!)
And still the earth grew up to the heights, and the protection of
the hills was slowly withdrawn from Chitor, for on the heights
they made they set their engines of war.
Then in a red dawn that great saint Narayan came to the Queen,
where she watched by her window, and spoke.
"0 great lady, I have dreamed a fearful dream. Nay, rather have I
seen a vision."
With her face set like a sword, the Queen said,-
"Say on."
"In a light red like blood, I waked, and beside me stood the
Mother, - Durga, - awful to see, with a girdle of heads about her
middle; and the drops fell thick and slow from That which she
held in her hand, and in the other was her sickle of Doom. Nor
did she speak, but my soul heard her words."
"Narrate them."
"She commanded: `Say this to the Rana: "In Chitor is My altar; in
Chitor is thy throne. If thou wouldest save either, send forth
twelve crowned Kings of Chitor to die.'"
As he said this, the Rana, fore-spent with fighting, entered and
heard the Divine word.
Now there were twelve princes of the Rajput blood, and the
youngest was the son of Padmini. What choice had these most
miserable but to appease the dreadful anger of the Goddess? So on
each fourth day a King of Chitor was crowned, and for three days
sat upon the throne, and on the fourth day, set in the front,
went forth and died fighting. So perished eleven Kings of Chitor,
and now there was left but the little Ajeysi, the son of the
Queen.
And that day was a great Council called.
Few were there. On the plains many lay dead; holding the gates
many watched; but the blood was red in their hearts and flowed
like Indus in the melting of the snows. And to them spoke the
Rana, his hand clenched on his sword, and the other laid on the
small dark head of the Prince Ajeysi, who stood between his
knees. And as he spoke his voice gathered strength till it rang
through the hall like the voice of Indra when he thunders in the
heavens.
"Men of the Rajputs, this child shall not die. Are we become
jackals that we fall upon the weak and tear them? When have we
put our women and children in the forefront of the war? I - I
only am King of Chitor. Narayan shall save this child for the
time that will surely come. And for us - what shall we do? I die
for Chitor!"
And like the hollow waves of a great sea they answered him,-
"We will die for Chitor."
There was silence and Marwar spoke.
"The women?"
"Do they not know the duty of a Rajputni?" said the King. "My
household has demanded that the caves be prepared."
And the men clashed stew joy with their swords, and the council
dispersed.
Then that very great saint, the Twice-Born, put off the sacred
thread that is the very soul of the Brahman. In his turban he
wound it secretly, and he stained his noble Aryan body until it
resembled the Pariahs, foul for the pure to see, loathsome for
the pure to touch, and he put on him the rags of the lowest of
the earth, and taking the Prince, he removed from the body of the
child every trace of royal and Rajput birth, and he appeared like
a child of the Bhils - the vile forest wanderers that shame not
to defile their lips with carrion. And in this guise they stood
before the Queen; and when she looked on the saint, the tears
fell from her eyes like rain, not for grief for her son, nor for
death, but that for their sake the pure should be made impure and
the glory of the Brahman-hood be defiled. And she fell at the old
man's feet and laid her head on the ground before him.
"Rise, daughter!" he said, "and take comfort! Are not the eyes of
the Gods clear that they should distinguish? - and this day we
stand before the God of Gods. Have not the Great Ones said, `That
which causes life causes also decay and death'? Therefore we who
go and you who stay are alike a part of the Divine. Embrace now
your child and bless him, for we depart. And it is on account of
the sacrifice of the Twelve that he is saved alive."
So, controlling her tears, she rose, and clasping the child to
her bosom, she bade him be of good cheer since he went with the
Gods. And that great saint took his hand from hers, and for the
first time in the life of the Queen he raised his aged eyes to
her face, and she gazed at him; but what she read, even the
ascetic Visravas, who saw all by the power of his yoga, could not
tell, for it was beyond speech. Very certainly the peace
thereafter possessed her.
So those two went out by the secret ways of the rocks, and
wandering far, were saved by the favour of Durga.
VI
And the nights went by and the days, and the time came that no
longer could they hold Chitor, and all hope was dead.
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