the ninth vibration-第18节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



When　Kahdra　and　I　pulled　her　across　to　Nour…Mahal's　garden　next　day；　how　could　I　not　believe　it　…　her　face　was　so　full　of　joy　as　she　looked　at　me　for　sympathy？

〃I　don't　think　so　much　beauty　is　crowded　into　any　other　few　miles　in　the　world　…　beauty　of　association；　history；　nature；　everything！〃　she　said　with　shining　eyes。　〃The　lotus　flowers　are　not　out　yet　but　when　they　come　that　is　the　last　touch　of　perfection。　Do　you　remember　Homer　…　'But　whoso　ate　of　the　honey…sweet　fruit　of　the　lotus；　was　neither　willing　to　bring　me　word　again；　nor　to　depart。　Nay；　their　desire　was　to　remain　there　for　ever；　feeding　on　the　lotus　with　the　Lotus　Eaters；　forgetful　of　all　return。'　You　know　the　people　here　eat　the　roots　and　seeds？　I　ate　them　last　year　and　perhaps　that　is　why　I　cannot　stay　away。　But　look　at　Nour…　Mahal's　garden！〃

We　were　pulling　in　among　the　reeds　and　the　huge　carven　leaves　of　the　water　plants；　and　the　snake…headed　buds　lolling　upon　them　with　the　slippery　half…sinister　look　that　water…flowers　have；　as　though　their　cold　secret　life　belonged　to　the　hidden　water　world　and　not　to　ours。　But　now　the　boat　was　touching　the　little　wooden　steps。

O　beautiful　…　most　beautiful　the　green　lawns；　shaded　with　huge　pyramids　of　the　chenar　trees；　the　terraced　gardens　where　the　marble　steps　climbed　from　one　to　the　other；　and　the　mountain　streams　flashed　singing　and　shining　down　the　carved　marble　slopes　that　cunning　hands　had　made　to　delight　the　Empress　of　Beauty；　between　the　wildernesses　of　roses。　Her　pavilion　stands　still　among　the　flowers；　and　the　waters　ripple　through　it　to　join　the　lake　…　and　she　is　…　where？　Even　in　the　glory　of　sunshine　the　passing　of　all　fair　things　was　present　with　me　as　I　saw　the　empty　shell　that　had　held　the　Pearl　of　Empire；　and　her　roses　that　still　bloom；　her　waters　that　still　sing　for　others。

The　spray　of　a　hundred　fountains　was　misty　diamond　dust　in　the　warm　air　laden　with　the　scent　of　myriad　flowers。　Kahdra　followed　us　everywhere；　singing　his　little　tuneless　happy　song。　The　world　brimmed　with　beauty　and　joy。　And　we　were　together。　Words　broke　from　me。

〃Vanna；　let　it　be　for　ever！　Let　us　live　here。　I'll　give　up　all　the　world　for　this　and　you。〃

〃But　you　see；〃　she　said　delicately；　〃it　would　be　'giving　up。'　You　use　the　right　word。　It　is　not　your　life。　It　is　a　lovely　holiday；　no　more。　You　would　weary　of　it。　You　would　want　the　city　life　and　your　own　kind。〃

I　protested　with　all　my　soul。

〃No。　Indeed　I　will　say　frankly　that　it　would　be　lowering　yourself　to　live　a　lotus…eating　life　among　my　people。　It　is　a　life　with　which　you　have　no　tie。　A　Westerner　who　lives　like　that　steps　down；　he　loses　his　birthright　just　as　an　Oriental　does　who　Europeanizes　himself。　He　cannot　live　your　life　nor　you　his。　If　you　had　work　here　it　would　be　different。　No　…　six　or　eight　weeks　more；　then　go　away　and　forget　it。〃

I　turned　from　her。　The　serpent　was　in　Paradise。　When　is　he　absent？

On　one　of　the　terraces　a　man　was　beating　a　tom…tom；　and　veiled　women　listened；　grouped　about　him　in　brilliant　colours。

〃Isn't　that　all　India？〃　she　said；　〃that　dull　reiterated　sound？　It　half　stupefies；　half　maddens。　Once　at　Darjiling　I　saw　the　Lamas'　Devil　Dance　…　the　soul；　a　white…faced　child　with　eyes　unnaturally　enlarged；　fleeing　among　a　rabble　of　devils　…　the　evil　passions。　It　fled　wildly　here　and　there　and　every　way　was　blocked。　The　child　fell　on　its　knees；　screaming　dumbly　…　you　could　see　the　despair　in　the　staring　eyes；　but　all　was　drowned　in　the　thunder　of　Tibetan　drums。　No　mercy　…　no　escape。　Horrible！〃

〃Even　in　Europe　the　drum　is　awful；〃　I　said。　〃Do　you　remember　in　the　French　Revolution　how　they　Drowned　the　victims'　voices　in　a　thunder　roll　of　drums？〃

〃I　shall　always　see　the　face　of　the　child；　hunted　down　to　hell；　falling　on　its　knees；　and　screaming　without　a　sound；　when　I　hear　the　drum。　But　listen　…　a　flute！　Now　if　that　were　the　Flute　of　Krishna　you　would　have　to　follow。　Let　us　come！〃

I　could　hear　nothing　of　it；　but　she　insisted　and　we　followed　the　music；　inaudible　to　me；　up　the　slopes　of　the　garden　that　is　the　foot…hill　of　the　mighty　mountain　of　Mahadeo；　and　still　I　could　hear　nothing。　And　Vanna　told　me　strange　stories　of　the　Apollo　of　India　whom　all　hearts　must　adore；　even　as　the　herd…girls　adored　him　in　his　golden　youth　by　Jumna　river　and　in　the　pastures　of　Brindaban。

Next　day　we　were　climbing　the　hill　to　the　ruins　where　the　evil　magician　brought　the　King's　daughter　nightly　to　his　will；　flying　low　under　a　golden　moon。　Vanna　took　my　arm　and　I　pulled　her　laughing　up　the　steepest　flowery　slopes　until　we　reached　the　height；　and　lo！　the　arched　windows　were　eyeless　and　a　lonely　breeze　blowing　through　the　cloisters；　and　the　beautiful　yellowish　stone　arches　supported　nothing　and　were　but　frames　for　the　blue　of　far　lake　and　mountain　and　the　divine　sky。　We　climbed　the　broken　stairs　where　the　lizards　went　by　like　flashes；　and　had　I　the　tongue　of　men　and　angels　I　could　not　tell　the　wonder　that　lay　before　us；　…　the　whole　wide　valley　of　Kashmir　in　summer　glory；　with　its　scented　breeze　singing；　singing　above　it。

We　sat　on　the　crushed　aromatic　herbs　and　among　the　wild　roses　and　looked　down。

〃To　think；〃　she　said；　〃that　we　might　have　died　and　never　seen　it！〃

There　followed　a　long　silence。　I　thought　she　was　tired；　and　would　not　break　it。　Suddenly　she　spoke　in　a　strange　voice；　low　and　toneless；

〃The　story　of　this　place。　She　was　the　Princess　Padmavati；　and　her　home　was　in　Ayodhya。　When　she　woke　and　found　herself　here　by　the　lake　she　was　so　terrified　that　she　flung　herself　in　and　was　drowned。　They　held　her　back；　but　she　died。〃

〃How　do　you　know？〃

〃Because　a　wandering　monk　came　to　the　abbey　of　Tahkt…i…Bahi　near　Peshawar　and　told　Vasettha　the　Abbot。〃

I　had　nearly　spoilt　all　by　an　exclamation；　but　I　held　myself　back。　I　saw　she　was　dreaming　awake　and　was　unconscious　of　what　she　said。

〃The　Abbot　said；　'Do　not　describe　her。　What　talk　is　this　for　holy　men？　The　young　monks　must　not　hear。　Some　of　them　have　never　seen　a　woman。　Should　a　monk　speak　of　such　toys？'　But　the　wanderer　disobeyed　and　spoke；　and　there　was　a　great　tumult；　and　the　monks　threw　him　out　at　the　command　of　the　young　Abbot；　and　he　wandered　down　to　Peshawar；　and　it　was　he　later　…　the　evil　one！　…　that　brought　his　sister；　Lilavanti　the　Dancer；　to　Peshawar；　and　the　Abbot　fell　into　her　snare。　That　was　his　revenge！〃

Her　face　was　fixed　and　strange；　for　a　moment　her　cheek　looked　hollow；　her　eyes　dim　and　grief…　worn。　What　was　she　seeing？　…　what　remembering？　Was　it　a　story　…　a　memory？　What　was　it？

〃She　was　beautiful？〃　I　prompted。

〃Men　have　said　so；　but　for　it　he　surrendered　the　Peace。　Do　not　speak　of　her　accursed　beauty。〃

Her　voice　died　away　to　a　drowsy　murmur；　her　head　dropped　on　my　shoulder　and　for　the　mere　de…　light　of　contact　I　sat　still　and　scarcely　breathed；　praying　that　she　might　speak　again；　but　the　good　minute　was　gone。　She　drew　one　or　two　deep　breaths；　and　sat　up　with　a　bewildered　look　that　quickly　passed。

〃I　was　quite　sleepy　for　a　minute。　The　climb　was　so　strenuous。　Hark　…　I　hear　the　Flute　of　Krishna　again。〃

And　again　I　could　hear　nothing；　but　she　said　it　was　sounding　from　the　trees　at　the　base　of　the　hill。　Later　when　we　climbed　down　I　found　she　was　right　…　that　a　peasant　lad；　dark　and　amazingly　beautiful　as　these　Kashmiris　often　are；　was　playing　on　the　flute　to　a　girl　at　his　feet　…　looking　up　at　him　with　rapt　eyes。　He　flung　Vanna　a　flower　as　we　passed。　She　caught　it　and　put　it　in　her　bosom。　A　singular　blossom；　three　petals　of　purest　white；　set　against　three　leaves　of　purest　green；　and　lower　down　the　stem　the　three　green　leaves　were　repeated。　It　was　still　in　her　bosom　after　dinner；　and　I　looked　at　it　more　closely。

〃That　is　a　curious　flower；〃　I　said。　〃Three　and　three　and　three。　Nine。　That　makes　the　mystic　number。　I　never　saw　a　purer　white。　What　is　it？〃

〃Of　course　it　is　mystic；〃　she　said　seriously。　〃It　is　the　Ninefold　Flower。　You　saw　who　gave　it？〃

〃That　peasant　lad。〃

She　smiled。

〃You　will　see　more　some　day。　Some　might　not　even　have　seen　that。〃

〃Does　it　grow　here？〃

〃This　is　the　first　I　have　seen。　It　is　said　to　grow　only　where　the　gods　walk。　Do　you　know　that　throughout　all　India　Kashmir　is　said　to　be　holy　ground？　It　was　called　long　ago　the　land　of　the　gods；　and　of　strange；　but　not　evil；　sorceries。　Great　marvels　were　seen　here。〃

I　felt　the　labyrinthine　enchantments　of　that　enchanted　land　were　closing　about　me　…　a　slender　web；　grey；　almost　impalpable；　finer　than　fairy　silk；　was　winding　itself　about　my　feet。　My　eyes　were　opening　to　things　I　had　not　dreamed。　She　saw　my　thought。

〃Yes；　you　could　not　have　seen　even　that　much　of　him　in　Peshawar。　You　did　not　know　then。〃

〃He　was　not　there；〃　I　answered；　falling　half　unconsciously　into　her　tone。

〃He　is　always　there　…　everywhere；　and　when　he　plays；　all　who　hear　must　follow。　He　was　the　Pied　Piper　in　Hamelin；　he　was　Pan　in　Hellas。　You　will　hear　his　wild　fluting　in　many　strange　places　when　you　know　how　to　listen。　When　one　has　seen　him　the　rest　comes　soon。　And　then　you　will　follow。〃

〃Not　away　from　you；　Vanna。〃

〃From　the　marriage　feast；　from　the　Table　of　the　Lord；〃　she　said；　smiling　strangely。　〃The　man　who　wrote　that　spoke　of　another　call；　but　it　is　the　same　…　Krishna　or　Christ。　When　we　hear