Vikram and the Vampire
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 landowner – 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 ignoble 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 passions is essential to final beatitude, accomplish this object by bodily austerities, and by avoiding temptation, he proceeded to blunt the edge of the passions 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 passions in the very presence of what they most desired.
Presently this excellent youth’s father died, leaving him immense wealth. He blunted his passions 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 gods 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 circumstances, 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 lusty, 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 should 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 gods; 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 (demigod). Her long hair, purple with the light of youth, was glossy as the bramra’s76 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 spiteDetests thy name and sickens at thy sight:Sometimes her heart shall learn to love thee moreFor 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 fortitude 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;and the hunchback felt that the edge of his passions again wanted blunting. He reflected, ‘Wisdom is exemption from attachment, and affection for children, wife, and home.’ Then he thus addressed my poor young mistress:
‘I have been now in thy country some years, and I have heard no tidings of my own family, hence my mind is sad. I have told thee everything about myself; thou must now ask thy mother leave for me to go to my own city, and, if thou wishest, thou mayest go with me.’
Ratnawati lost no time in saying to her mother, ‘My husband wishes to visit his own country; will you so arrange that he may not be pained about this matter?’
The mother went to her husband, and said, ‘Your son-in-law desires leave to go to his own country.’
Hemgupt replied, ‘Very well; we will grant him leave. One has no power over another man’s son. We will do what he wishes.’
The parents then called their daughter, and asked her to tell them her real desire – whether she would go to her father-in-law’s house, or would remain in her mother’s home. She was abashed at this question, and could not answer; but she went back to her husband, and said, ‘As my father and mother have declared that you should do as you like, do not leave me behind.’
Presently the merchant summoned his son-in-law, and having bestowed great wealth upon him, allowed him to depart. He also bade his daughter farewell, after giving her a palanquin and a female slave. And the parents took leave of them with wailing and bitter tears; their hearts were like to break. And so was mine.
For some days the hunchback travelled quietly along with his wife, in deep thought. He could not take her to his city, where she would find out his evil life, and the fraud which he had passed upon her father. Besides which, although he wanted her money, he by no means wanted her company for life. After turning on many projects in his evil-begotten mind, he hit upon the following:
He dismissed the palanquin-bearers when halting at a little shed in the thick jungle through which they were travelling, and said to his wife, ‘This is a place of danger; give me thy jewels, and I will hide them in my waist-shawl. When thou reachest the city thou canst wear them again.’ She then gave up to him all her ornaments, which were of great value. Thereupon he inveigled the slave girl into the depths of the forest, where he murdered her, and left her body to be devoured by wild beasts. Lastly, returning to my poor mistress, he induced her to leave the hut with him, and pushed her by force into a dry well, after which exploit he set out alone with his ill-gotten wealth, walking towards his own city.
In the meantime, a wayfaring man, who was passing through that jungle, hearing the sound of weeping, stood still, and began to say to himself, ‘How came to my ears the voice of a mortal’s grief in this wild wood?’ He then followed the direction of the noise, which led him to a pit, and peeping over the side, he saw a woman crying at the bottom. The traveller at once loosened his girdle cloth, knotted it to his turban, and letting down the line pulled out the poor bride. He asked her who she was, and how she came to fall into that well. She replied, ‘I am the daughter of Hemgupt, the wealthiest merchant in the city of Chandrapur; and I was journeying with my husband to his own country, when robbers set upon us and surrounded us. They slew my slave girl, they threw me into a well, and having bound my husband they took him away, together with my jewels. I have no tidings of him, nor he of me.’ And so saying, she burst into tears and lamentations.
The wayfaring man believed her tale, and conducted her to her home, where she gave the same account of the accident which had befallen her, ending with, ‘Beyond this, I know not if they have killed my husband, or have let him go.’ The father thus soothed her grief: ‘Daughter! have no anxiety; thy husband is alive, and by the will of the Deity he will come to thee in a few days. Thieves take men’s money, not their lives.’ Then the parents presented her with ornaments more precious than those which she had lost; and summoning their relations and friends, they comforted her to the best of their power. And so did I.
The wicked hunchback had, meanwhile, returned to his own city, where he was excellently well received, because he brought much wealth with him. His old associates flocked around him rejoicing; and he fell into the same courses which had beggared him before. Gambling and debauchery soon blunted his passions, and emptied his purse. Again his boon companions, finding him without a broken cowrie, drove him from their doors; he stole, and was flogged for theft; and lastly, half famished, he fled the city. Then he said to himself, ‘I must go to my father-in-law, and make the excuse that a grandson has been born to him, and that I have come to offer him congratulations on the event.’
Imagine, however, his fears and astonishment when, as he entered the house, his wife stood before him. At first he thought it was a ghost, and turned to run away, but she went out to him and said, ‘Husband, be not troubled! I have told my father that thieves came upon us, and killed the slave girl and robbed me and threw me into a well, and bound thee and carried thee off. Tell the same story, and put away all anxious feelings. Come up and change thy tattered garments – alas! some misfortune hath befallen thee. But console thyself; all is now well, since thou art returned to me, and fear not, for the house is thine, and I am thy slave.’
The wretch, with all his hardness of heart, could scarcely refrain from tears. He followed his wife to her room, where she washed his feet, caused him to bathe, dressed him in new clothes, and placed food before him. When her parents returned, she presented him to their embrace, saying in a glad way, ‘Rejoice with me, O my father and mother! the robbers have at length allowed him to come back to us.’ Of course the parents were deceived; they are mostly a purblind race; and Hemgupt, showing great favour to his worthless son-in-law, exclaimed, ‘Remain with us, my son, and be happy!’
For two or three months the hunchback lived quietly with his wife, treating her kindly and even affectionately. But this did not last long. He made acquaintance with a band of thieves, and arranged his plans with them.
After a time, his wife one night came to sleep by his side, having put on all her jewels. At midnight, when he saw that she was fast asleep, he struck her with a knife so that she died. Then he admitted his accomplices, who savagely murdered Hemgupt and his wife; and with their assistance he carried off any valuable article upon which he could lay his hands. The ferocious wretch! As he passed my cage he looked at it, and thought whether he had time to wring my neck. The barking of a dog saved my life; but my mistress, my poor Ratnawati – ah, me! ah, me! —
‘Queen,’ said the jay, in deepest grief, ‘all this have I seen with mine own eyes, and have heard with mine own ears. It affected me in early life, and gave me a dislike for the society of the other sex. With due respect to you, I have resolved to remain an old maid. Let your majesty reflect, what crime had my poor mistress committed? A male is of the same disposition as a highway robber; and she who forms friendship with such a one, cradles upon her bosom a black and venomous snake.’
‘Sir Parrot,’ said the jay, turning to her wooer, ‘I have spoken. I have nothing more to say but that you he-things are all a treacherous, selfish, wicked race, created for the express purpose of working our worldly woe, and – ’
‘When a female, O my king, asserts that she has nothing more to say, but,’ broke in Churaman, the parrot, with a loud dogmatical voice, ‘I know that what she has said merely whets her tongue for what she is about to say. This person has surely spoken long enough and drearily enough.’
‘Tell me then, O parrot,’ said the king, ‘what faults there may be in the other sex.’
‘I will relate,’ quoth Churaman, ‘an occurrence which in my early youth determined me to live and to die an old bachelor.’
When quite a young bird, and before my schooling began, I was caught in the land of Malaya, and was sold to a very rich merchant called Sagardati, a widower with one daughter, the lady Jayashri. As her father spent all his days and half his nights in his counting-house, conning his ledgers and scolding his writers, that young woman had more liberty than is generally allowed to those of her age, and a mighty bad use she made of it.
O king! men commit two capital mistakes in rearing the ‘domestic calamity,’ and these are over-vigilance and under-vigilance. Some parents never lose sight of their daughters, suspect them of all evil intentions, and are silly enough to show their suspicions, which is an incentive to evil doing. For the weak-minded things do naturally say, ‘I will be wicked at once. What do I now but suffer all the pains and penalties of badness, without enjoying its pleasures?’ And so they are guilty of many evil actions; for, however vigilant fathers and mothers may be, the daughter can always blind their eyes.
On the other hand, many parents take no trouble whatever with their charges: they allow them to sit in idleness, the origin of badness; they permit them to communicate with the wicked, and they give them liberty which breeds opportunity. Thus they also, falling into the snares of the unrighteous, who are ever a more painstaking race than the righteous, are guilty of many evil actions.
What, then, must wise parents do? The wise will study the characters of their children, and modify their treatment accordingly. If a daughter be naturally good, she will be treated with a prudent confidence. If she be vicious, an apparent trust will be reposed in her; but her father and mother will secretly ever be upon their guard. The one-idea’d —
‘All this parrot-prate, I suppose, is only intended to vex me,’ cried the warrior king, who always considered himself, and very naturally, a person of such consequence as ever to be uppermost in the thoughts and minds of others. ‘If thou must tell a tale, then tell one, Vampire! or else be silent, as I am sick to the death of thy psychics.’
‘It is well, O warrior king,’ resumed the Baital. After that Churaman the parrot had given the young Raja Ram a golden mine full of good advice about the management of daughters, he proceeded to describe Jayashri.
She was tall, stout, and well made, of lymphatic temperament, and yet strong passions. Her fine large eyes had heavy and rather full eyelids, which are to be avoided. Her hands were symmetrical without being small, and the palms were ever warm and damp. Though her lips were good, her mouth was somewhat underhung; and her voice was so deep, that at times it sounded like that of a man. Her hair was smooth as the kokila’s plume, and her complexion was that of the young jasmine; and these were the points at which most persons looked. Altogether, she was neither handsome nor ugly, which is an excellent thing in woman. Sita the goddess77 was lovely to excess; therefore she was carried away by a demon. Raja Bali was exceedingly generous, and he emptied his treasury. In this way, exaggeration, even of good, is exceedingly bad.
Yet must I confess, continued the parrot, that, as a rule, the beautiful woman is more virtuous than the ugly. The former is often tempted, but her vanity and conceit enable her to resist, by the self-promise that she shall be tempted again and again. On the other hand, the ugly woman must tempt instead of being tempted, and she must yield, because her vanity and conceit are gratified by yielding, not by resisting.
‘Ho, there!’ broke in the jay, contemptuously. ‘What woman cannot win the hearts of the silly things called men? Is it not said that a pig-faced female who dwells in Landanpur has a lover?’
I was about to remark, my king! said the parrot, somewhat nettled, if the aged virgin had not interrupted me, that as ugly women are more vicious than handsome women, so they are more successful. ‘We love the pretty, we adore the plain,’ is a true saying amongst the worldly wise. And why do we adore the plain? Because they seem to think less of themselves than of us – a vital condition of adoration.
Jayashri made some conquests by the portion of good looks which she possessed, more by her impudence, and most by her father’s reputation for riches. She was truly shameless, and never allowed herself less than half a dozen admirers at the time. Her chief amusement was to appoint interviews with them successively, at intervals so short that she was obliged to hurry away one in order to make room for another. And when a lover happened to be jealous, or ventured in any way to criticise her arrangements, she replied at once by showing him the door. Answer unanswerable!
When Jayashri had reached the ripe age of thirteen, the son of a merchant, who was her father’s gossip and neighbour, returned home after a long sojourn in far lands, whither he had travelled in the search of wealth. The poor wretch, whose name, by the bye, was Shridat (Gift of Fortune), had loved her in her childhood; and he came back, as men are apt to do after absence from familiar scenes, painfully full of affection for house and home and all belonging to it. From his cross stingy old uncle to the snarling superannuated beast of a watchdog, he viewed all with eyes of love and melting heart. He could not see that his idol was greatly changed, and nowise for the better; that her nose was broader and more club-like, her eyelids fatter and thicker, her under lip more prominent, her voice harsher, and her manner coarser. He did not notice that she was an adept in judging of men’s dress, and that she looked with admiration upon all swordsmen, especially upon those who fought on horses and elephants. The charm of memory, the curious faculty of making past time present, caused all he viewed to be enchanting to him.