long as it did. He hated nothing so fiercely now that he was in middle age, as any long mention of the handsome god.'1

Having vainly endeavoured to stop by angry mutterings the course of the Baital's eloquence, he stepped out so vigorously and so rudely shook that inveterate talker, that the latter once or twice nearly bit off the tip of his tongue. Then the Vampire became silent, and Vikram relapsed into a walk which allowed the tale to be resumed.

Jayashri immediately conceived a strong dislike for her husband, and simultaneously a fierce affection for a reprobate who before had been indifferent to her. The more lovingly Shridati behaved to her, the more vexed and annoyed she was. When her friends spoke to her, she turned up her nose, raising her eyebrows (in token of displeasure), and remained silent. When her husband spoke words of affection to her, she found them disagreeable, and turning away her face, reclined on the bed. Then he brought dresses and ornaments of various kinds and presented them to her, saying, 'Wear these.' Then she would become more angry, knit her brows, turn her face away, and in an audible whisper call him 'fool.' All day she stayed out of the house saying to her companions, Sisters, my youth is passing away, and I have not, up to the present time, tasted any of this world's pleasures.' Then she would ascend to the balcony, peep through the lattice, and seeing the reprobate going along she would say to her friend, 'Bring that person to me.' All night she tossed and turned from side to side, reflecting in her heart, I am puzzled in my mind what I shall say, and whither I shall go. I have forgotten sleep, hunger, and thirst;

Kama Deva.

neither heat nor cold is refreshing to me.'

At last, unable any longer to support the separation from her reprobate, whom she adored, she resolved to fly with her paramour. On one occasion, when she thought that her husband was fast asleep, she rose up quietly, and leaving him, made her way fearlessly in the dark night to her lover's abode. A thief, who saw her on the way, thought to himself, 'Where can this woman, clothed in jewels, be going alone at midnight ?' And thus he followed her unseen, and watched her.

When Jayashri reached the intended place she went into the house, and found her lover lying at the door. He was dead, having been stabbed by a footpad; but she, thinking that he had, according to custom, drunk intoxicating hemp, sat upon the floor, and raising his head, placed it tenderly in her lap. Then, burning with the fire of separation from him, she began to kiss his cheeks, and to fondle and caress him with the utmost freedom and affection.

By chance a Pisach (evil spirit) was seated in a large fig tree2 opposite the house, and it occurred to him, when beholding this scene, that he might amuse himself in a characteristic way. He therefore hopped down from his branch, vivified the body, and began to return the woman's caresses. But as Jayashri bent down to kiss his lips, he caught the end of her nose in his teeth, and bit it clean off. He then issued from the corpse, and returned to the branch where he had been sitting.

Jayashri was in despair. She did not, however, lose her presence of mind, but sat down and proceeded to take thought; and when she had matured her plan she arose,

dyed with blood, and walked straight home to her husband's house. On entering his room she clapped her hand to her nose, and began to gnash her teeth, and shriek so violently, that all the members of the family were alarmed. The neighbours also collected in numbers at the door, and, as it was bolted inside, they broke it open and rushed in, carrying lights. There they There they saw the wife sitting upon the ground with her face mutilated, and the husband standing over her, apparently trying to appease

her.

'O ignorant, criminal, shameless, pitiless wretch!' cried the people, especially the women; why hast thou cut off her nose, she not having offended in any way ??

Poor Shridati, seeing at once the trick which had been played upon him, thought to himself: 'One should put no confidence in a changeful mind, a black serpent, or an armed enemy; and one should dread a woman's doings. What cannot a poet describe? What is there that a saint (jogi, a religious beggar) does not know? What

nonsense will not a drunken man talk? What limit is there to a woman's guile? True it is that the gods know nothing of the defects of a horse, of the thundering of clouds, of a woman's deeds, or of a man's future fortunes. How then can we know?" He could do nothing but weep, and swear by the herb basil, by his cattle, by his grain, by a piece of gold, and by all that is holy, that he had not committed the crime.

In the meanwhile, the old merchant, Jayashri's father, ran off, and laid a complaint before the kotwal (magistrate), and the footmen of the police office were immediately sent to apprehend the husband, and to carry him bound before the judge. The latter, after due ex

amination, laid the affair before the king. An example happening to be necessary at the time, the king resolved to punish the offence with severity, and he summoned the husband and wife to the court.

When the merchant's daughter was asked to give an account of what had happened, she pointed out the state of her nose, and said, 'Maharaj ! why inquire of me concerning what is so manifest?' The king then turned to the husband, and bade him state his defence. He said, 'I know nothing of it,' and in the face of the strongest evidence he persisted in denying his guilt.

Thereupon the king, who had vainly threatened to cut off Shridati's right hand, infuriated by his refusing to confess and to beg for mercy, exclaimed, 'How must I punish such a wretch as thou art?' The unfortunate man answered, 'Whatever your majesty may consider just, that be pleased to do.' Thereupon the king cried, 'Away with him, and impale him;' and the people, hearing the command, prepared to obey it.

Before Shridati had left the court, the footpad, who had been looking on, and who saw that an innocent man was about to be unjustly punished, raised a cry for justice, and, pushing through the crowd, resolved to make himself heard. He thus addressed the throne: Great king, the cherishing of the good, and the punishment of the bad, is the invariable duty of kings.' The ruler having caused him to approach, asked him who he was, and he replied boldly, Maharaj! I am a thief, and this man is innocent, and his blood is about to be shed unjustly. Your majesty has not done what is right in this affair.' Thereupon the king charged him to tell the truth according to his religion; and the thief related ex

1868] plicitly the whole circumstances, omitting, of course, the murder. 'Go ye,' said the king to his mesand look in the mouth sengers, of the woman's lover who has fallen dead. If the nose be there found then has this thief-witness told the truth, and the husband is a guiltless man.'

The nose was presently produced in court, and Shridati escaped the stake. The king caused the wicked Jayashri's face to be smeared with oily soot, and her head and eyebrows to be shaved; thus blackened and disfigured, she was mounted upon a little rugged-limbed ass and was led around the market and the streets, after which she was banished The husfor ever from the city. band and the thief were then dismissed with betel and other gifts, together with much sage advice, which neither of them wanted.

6

My king,' resumed the misogyne

66

own ears.

715

Then keep your thoughts to yourself,' replied the raja, nettled at his son daring to say a word in You always favour of the sex. take the part of wickedness and depravity—'

1

'Permit me, your majesty,' interrupted the Baital, 'to conclude my tale.'

When Madan-manjari, the jay, and Churaman, the parrot, had given these illustrations of their belief, they began to wrangle, and words ran high. The former insisted that females are the salt of the earth, speaking, I presume, figuratively. The latter went so far as to assert that the opposite sex have no souls, and that their brains are in a rudimental and inchoate state of development. Thereupon he was tartly taken to task by his master's bride, the beautiful Chandravati, who told him that those only have a bad opinion of women who have associated with none but the vicious and the low, and that he should be ashamed to abuse feminine parrots, because his mother had been one.

This was truly logical.

On the other hand the jay was sternly reproved for her mutinous and treasonable assertions by the husband of her mistress, Raja Ram, who, although still a bridegroom, had not forgotten the gallant rule of his syntax

feminine; The masculine is more worthy than the

till Madan-manjari burst into tears and declared that her life was not worth having. And Raja Ram

looked at her as if he could have wrung her neck.

In short, Raja Vikram, all the four lost their tempers, and with them what little wits they had. Two of them were but birds, and the others seem not to have been much better, being young, ignorant, inexperienced, and lately married. How then could they decide so difficult a question as that of the relative wickedness and villany of men and women? Had your majesty been there, the knot of uncertainty would soon have been undone by the trenchant edge of your wit and wisdom, your knowledge and experience. You have of course long since made up your mind upon the subject?

Dharma Dhwaj would have prevented his father's reply. But the youth had been twice reprehended in the course of this tale, and he thought it wisest to let things take their own way.

'Women,' quoth the raja, oracularly, are worse than we are; a man, however depraved he may be, ever retains some notion of right and wrong, but a woman does not. She has no such regard whatever.'

The beautiful Bangalah Rani for instance?' said the Baital, with a demonic sneer.

At the mention of a word, the uttering of which was punishable

by extirpation of the tongue, Raja Vikram's brain whirled with rage. He staggered in the violence of his passion, and putting forth both hands to break his fall, he dropped the bundle from his back. Then the Baital, disentangling himself and laughing lustily, ran off towards the tree as fast as his thin brown legs could carry him. But his activity availed him little.

The king puffing with fury followed him at the top of his speed, and caught him by his tail before he reached the siras-tree, hurled him backwards with force, put foot upon his chest, and after shaking out the cloth rolled him up in it with extreme violence, bumped his back half a dozen times against the stony ground, and finally with a jerk threw him on his shoulder, as he had done before.

The young prince, afraid to accompany his father whilst he was pursuing the fiend, followed slowly in the rear, and did not join him for some minutes.

But when matters were in their normal state, the Vampire, who had endured with exemplary patience the penalty of his impudence, began in honeyed accents,

'Listen, O warrior king, whilst thy servant recounts unto thee another true tale.'

YDNEY returned into Germany in the summer of 1574, having continued about a year in Italy; but though he yielded to Languet's advice in giving up his intention of proceeding to Rome, he more than once reproached his friend for having made him forego a gratification which he so greatly desired. But Languet had advised him wisely. At his age, and with his ingenuousness and nobleness of mind, he would have been in no little danger from the practised sophistry of the Romish logicians; and if he had not been circumvented by their arts, he might have been made the victim of their intolerance. Even the mere circumstance of having exposed himself to the seduction of that wily court would have injured him at home, where an uneasiness was already expressed because he had lived at Venice in what was thought a dangerous familiarity with persons of the papal religion. Walsingham intimated this to Languet in a letter which arrived immediately after Sydney, having passed the winter with his excellent friend at Vienna, had set out on his return to England. Languet replied to this in a manner which was intended not only to relieve Sydney's immediate friends from any such fear, but which might make Walsingham do away the suspicion in others. But he reminded Sydney that it behoved men who, like himself, were placed in a conspicuous rank of life, not only to keep themselves blameless, but as far as possible unsuspected also; wherefore he advised him to seek the company of Protestant clergy on his way, who were learned and wise men, and to attend their preaching both at Heidelberg (where he had provided him with

an introduction to Ursinus) and at Strasburg, and on his way through France. He recommended him to cultivate the friendship of Walsingham, and by all means to preserve Cecil's good will; one easy and likely means was by being fond of his children, or at least appearing to be so; but he must remember that the astute and experienced old man would easily detect simulation in the young. This is the only reprehensible passage in Languet's letters.

Sydney returned to his own country by way of Frankfort and Antwerp. His connections, aided by his personal accomplishments, soon made him so distinguished a person at Elizabeth's court, 'that it seemed (says Fuller) maimed without his company, he being a complete master of matter and language.' The queen even called him 'her Philip,' as if in proud or playful reference to her sister's royal husband.

There was an intention soon after his return of bringing about a marriage between him and Penelope, daughter of Walter Devereux, Earl of Essex. Between the two fathers there were some causes of disagreement, as were likely to arise by reason of the ill-will with which Essex and Leicester regarded each other; but both were honourable and upright men, and Edward Waterhouse, who had been employed by both, and appears to have been a person of great worth, brought them to a better understanding. With him the proposal for a connection which would have united their interests probably originated; and it was so well entertained, that Essex called Philip his son. But at this time Essex died; and some demurrer more than the