the ninth vibration-第14章

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！


　soothing　at　the　same　moment。　Her　reward　would　be　some　bit　of　folk…lore；　some　quaintness　of　gratitude　that　I　noted　down　in　the　little　book　I　kept　for　remembrance　…　that　I　do　not　need；　for　every　word　is　in　my　heart。

We　rowed　down　through　the　city　next　day　…　Salama　rowing；　and　little　Kahdra　lazily　paddling　at　the　bow　…　a　wonderful　city；　with　its　narrow　ways　begrimed　with　the　dirt　of　ages；　and　its　balconied　houses　looking　as　if　disease　and　sin　had　soaked　into　them　and　given　them　a　vicious　tottering　beauty；　horrible　and　yet　lovely　too。　We　saw　the　swarming　life　of　the　bazaar；　the　white　turbans　coming　and　going；　diversified　by　the　rose　and　yellow　Hindu　turbans；　and　the　caste…marks；　orange　and　red；　on　the　dark　brows。

I　saw　two　women　…　girls　…　painted　and　tired　like　Jezebel；　looking　out　of　one　window　carved　and　old；　and　the　grey　burnished　doves　flying　about　it。　They　leaned　indolently；　like　all　the　old；　old　wickedness　of　the　East　that　yet　is　ever　young　…　〃Flowers　of　Delight；〃　with　smooth　black　hair　braided　with　gold　and　blossoms；　and　covered　with　pale　rose　veils；　and　gold　embossed　disks　swinging　like　lamps　beside　the　olive　cheeks；　the　great　eyes　artificially　lengthened　and　darkened　with　soorma；　and　the　curves　of　the　full　lips　emphasized　with　vermilion。　They　looked　down　on　us　with　apathy；　a　dull　weariness　that　held　all　the　old　evil　of　the　wicked　humming　city。

It　had　taken　shape　in　those　indolent　bodies　and　heavy　eyes　that　could　flash　into　life　as　a　snake　wakes　into　fierce　darting　energy　when　the　time　comes　to　spring　…　direct　inheritrixes　from　Lilith；　in　the　fittest　setting　in　the　world　…　the　almost　exhausted　vice　of　an　Oriental　city　as　old　as　time。

〃And　look…below　here；〃　said　Vanna；　pointing　to　one　of　the　ghauts　…　long　rugged　steps　running　down　to　the　river。

〃When　I　came　yesterday；　a　great　broken　crowd　was　collected　here；　almost　shouldering　each　other　into　the　water　where　a　boat　lay　rocking。　In　it　lay　the　body　of　a　man　brutally　murdered　for　the　sake　of　a　few　rupees　and　flung　into　the　river。　I　could　see　the　poor　brown　body　stark　in　the　boat　with　a　friend　weeping　beside　it。　On　the　lovely　deodar　bridge　people　leaned　over；　watching　with　a　grim　open…mouthed　curiosity；　and　business　went　on　gaily　where　the　jewelers　make　the　silver　bangles　for　slender　wrists；　and　the　rows　of　silver　chains　that　make　the　necks　like　'the　Tower　of　Damascus　builded　for　an　armory。'　It　was　all　very　wild　and　cruel。　I　went　down　to　them…〃

〃Vanna　…　you　went　down？　Horrible！〃

〃No；　you　see　I　heard　them　say　the　wife　was　almost　a　child　and　needs　help。　So　I　went。　Once　long　ago　at　Peshawar　I　saw　the　same　thing　happen；　and　they　came　and　took　the　child　for　the　service　of　the　gods；　for　she　was　most　lovely；　and　she　clung　to　the　feet　of　a　man　in　terror；　and　the　priest　stabbed　her　to　the　heart。　She　died　in　my　arms。

〃Good　God！〃　I　said；　shuddering；　〃what　a　sight　for　you！　Did　they　never　hang　him？〃

〃He　was　not　punished。　I　told　you　it　was　a　very　long　time　ago。　Her　expression　had　a　brooding　quiet　as　she　looked　down　into　the　running　river；　almost　it　might　be　as　if　she　saw　the　picture　of　that　past　misery　in　the　deep　water。　She　said　no　more。　But　in　her　words　and　the　terrible　crowding　of　its　life；　Srinagar　seemed　to　me　more　of　a　nightmare　than　anything　I　had　seen；　excepting　only　Benares；　for　the　holy　Benares　is　a　memory　of　horror；　with　a　sense　of　blood　hidden　under　its　frantic　crazy　devotion；　and　not　far　hidden　either。

Our　own　green　shade；　when　we　pulled　back　to　it　in　the　evening　cool；　was　a　refuge　of　unspeakable　quiet。　She　read　aloud　to　me　that　evening　by　the　small　light　of　our　lamp　beneath　the　trees；　and；　singularly；　she　read　of　joy。

〃I　have　drunk　of　the　Cup　of　the　Ineffable；　I　have　found　the　key　of　the　Mystery；　Travelling　by　no　track　I　have　come　to　the　Sorrowless　Land；　very　easily　has　the　mercy　of　the　great　Lord　come　upon　me。　Wonderful　is　that　Land　of　rest　to　which　no　merit　can　win。　There　have　I　seen　joy　filled　to　the　brim；　perfection　of　joy。　He　dances　in　rapture　and　waves　of　form　arise　from　His　dance。　He　holds　all　within　his　bliss。〃

〃What　is　that？〃

〃It　is　from　the　songs　of　the　great　Indian　mystic　…　Kabir。　Let　me　read　you　more。　It　is　like　the　singing　of　a　lark；　lost　in　the　infinite　of　light　and　heaven。〃

So　in　the　soft　darkness　I　heard　for　the　first　time　those　immortal　words；　and　hearing；　a　faint　glimmer　of　understanding　broke　upon　me　as　to　the　source　of　the　peace　that　surrounded　her。　I　had　accepted　it　as　an　emanation　of　her　own　heart　when　it　was　the　pulsing　of　the　tide　of　the　Divine。　She　read；　choosing　a　verse　here　and　there；　and　I　listened　with　absorption。

Suppose　I　had　been　wrong　in　believing　that　sorrow　is　the　keynote　of　life；　that　pain　is　the　road　of　ascent；　if　road　there　be；　that　an　implacable　Nature　and　that　only；　presides　over　all　our　pitiful　struggles　and　seekings　and　writes　a　black　〃Finis〃　to　the　holograph　of　our　existence？

What　then？　What　was　she　teaching　me？　Was　she　the　Interpreter　of　a　Beauty　eternal　in　the　heavens；　and　reflected　like　a　broken　prism　in　the　beauty　that　walked　visible　beside　me？　So　I　listened　like　a　child　to　an　unknown　language；　yet　ventured　my　protest。

〃In　India；　in　this　wonderful　country　where　men　have　time　and　will　for　speculation　such　thoughts　may　be　natural。　Can　they　be　found　in　the　West？〃

〃This　is　from　the　West　…　might　not　Kabir　himself　have　said　it？　Certainly　he　would　have　felt　it。　'Happy　is　he　who　seeks　not　to　understand　the　Mystery　of　God；　but　who；　merging　his　spirit　into　Thine；　sings　to　Thy　face；　0　Lord；　like　a　harp；　understanding　how　difficult　it　is　to　know　…　how　easy　to　love　Thee。'　We　debate　and　argue　and　the　Vision　passes　us　by。　We　try　to　prove　it；　and　kill　it　in　the　laboratory　of　our　minds；　when　on　the　altar　of　our　souls　it　will　dwell　for　ever。〃

Silence　…　and　I　pondered。　Finally　she　laid　the　book　aside；　and　repeated　from　memory　and　in　a　tone　of　perfect　music；　〃Kabir　says；　'I　shall　go　to　the　House　of　my　Lord　with　my　Love　at　my　side；　then　shall　I　sound　the　trumpet　of　triumph。'〃

And　when　she　left　me　alone　in　the　moonlight　silence　the　old　doubts　came　back　to　me　…　the　fear　that　I　saw　only　through　her　eyes；　and　began　to　believe　in　joy　only　because　I　loved　her。　I　remember　I　wrote　in　the　little　book　I　kept　for　my　stray　thoughts；　these　words　which　are　not　mine　but　reflect　my　thought　of　her；　〃Thine　is　the　skill　of　the　Fairy　Woman；　and　the　virtue　of　St。　Bride；　and　the　faith　of　Mary　the　Mild；　and　the　gracious　way　of　the　Greek　woman；　and　the　beauty　of　lovely　Emer；　and　the　tenderness　of　heart…sweet　Deirdre；　and　the　courage　of　Maev　the　great　Queen；　and　the　charm　of　Mouth…of…Music。〃

Yes；　all　that　and　more；　but　I　feared　lest　I　should　see　the　heaven　of　joy　through　her　eyes　only　and　find　it　mirage　as　I　had　found　so　much　else。

SECOND　PART　Early　in　the　pure　dawn　the　men　came　and　our　boat　was　towed　up　into　the　Dal　Lake　through　crystal　waterways　and　flowery　banks；　the　men　on　the　path　keeping　step　and　straining　at　the　rope　until　the　bronze　muscles　stood　out　on　their　legs　and　backs；　shouting　strong　rhythmic　phrases　to　mark　the　pull。

〃They　shout　the　Wondrous　Names　of　God　…　as　they　are　called；〃　said　Vanna　when　I　asked。　〃They　always　do　that　for　a　timid　effort。　Bad　shah！　The　Lord；　the　Compassionate；　and　so　on。　I　don't　think　there　is　any　religion　about　it　but　it　is　as　natural　to　them　as　One；　Two；　Three；　to　us。　It　gives　a　tremendous　lift。　Watch　and　see。〃

It　was　part　of　the　delightful　strangeness　that　we　should　move　to　that　strong　music。　We　sat　on　the　upper　deck　and　watched　the　dream　…　like　beauty　drift　slowly　by　until　we　emerged　beneath　a　little　bridge　into　the　fairy　land　of　the　lake　which　the　Mogul　Emperors　loved　so　well　that　they　made　their　noble　pleasance　gardens　on　the　banks；　and　thought　it　little　to　travel　up　yearly　from　far　…　off　Delhi　over　the　snowy　Pir　Panjal　with　their　Queens　and　courts　for　the　perfect　summer　of　Kashmir。

We　moored　by　a　low　bank　under　a　great　wood　of　chenar　trees；　and　saw　the　little　table　in　the　wilderness　set　in　the　greenest　shade　with　our　chairs　beside　it；　and　my　pipe　laid　reverently　upon　it　by　Kahdra。

Across　the　glittering　water　lay　on　one　side　the　Shalimar　Garden　known　to　all　readers　of　〃Lalla　Ruhk〃　…　a　paradise　of　roses；　and　beyond　it　again　the　lovelier　gardens　of　Nour…Mahal；　the　Light　of　the　Palace；　that　imperial　woman　who　ruled　India　under　the　weak　Emperor's　name　…　she　whose　name　he　set　thus　upon　his　coins：

〃By　order　of　King　Jehangir。　Gold　has　a　hundred　splendours　added　to　it　by　receiving　the　name　of　Nour…Jahan　the　Queen。〃

Has　any　woman　ever　had　a　more　royal　homage　than　this　most　royal　lady　…　known　first　as　Mihr…u…　nissa　…　Sun　of　Women；　and　later；　Nour…Mahal；　Light　of　the　Palace；　and　latest；　Nour…Jahan…　Begam；　Queen；　Light　of　the　World？

Here　in　these　gardens　she　had　lived　…　had　seen　the　snow　mountains　change　from　the　silver　of　dawn　to　the　illimitable　rose　of　sunset。　The　life；　the　colour　beat　insistently　upon　my　brain。　They　built　a　world　of　magic　where　every　moment　was　pure　gold。　Surely　…　surely　to　Vanna　it　must　be　the　same。　I　believed　in　my　very　soul　that　she　who　gave　and　shared　such　joy　could　not　be　utterly　apart　from　me？　Could　I　then　feel　certain　that　I　had　gained　any　ground　in　these　days　we　had　been　together？　Could　she　still　define　the　cruel　limits　she　had　laid　down；　or　were　her　eyes　kinder；　her　tones　a　more　broken　music？　I　did　not　know。　Whenever　I　could　hazard　a　guess　the　next　minute　baffled　me。

Just　then；　in　the　sunset；　she　was　sitting　on　deck；　singing　under　her　breath　and　looking　absently　away　to　the　Gardens　across　the　Lake。　I　could　catch　the　words　here　and　there；　and　knew　them。

　　〃Pale　hands　I　loved　beside　the　Shalimar；　　　　Where　are　you　now　…　who　lies　beneath　your　spell？　　　　Whom　do　you　lead　on　Rapture's　roadway　far；　　　　Before　you　agonize　them　in　farewell？〃

〃Don't！〃　I　said　abruptly。　It　stung　me。

〃What？〃　she　asked　in　surprise。　〃That　is　the　song　every　one　remembers　here。　Poor　Laurence　Hope！　How　she　knew　and　loved　this　India！　What　are　you　grumbling　at？〃

Her　smile　stung　me。

〃Never　mind；〃　I　said　morosely。　〃You　don't　understand。　You　never　will。〃

And　yet　I　believed　sometimes　that　she　would　…　that　time　was　on　my　side。

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　beautifu