Page 191 - DENG203_ELECTIVE_ENGLISH_IV

Elective English—IV

Notes Grannie went on: “And the king had a queen.”
That was good to begin with. He had only one!
It is usual for kings in fairy stories to be extravagant in queens. And whenever we hear that there
are two queens our hearts begin to sink. One is sure to be unhappy. But in Grannie’s story that
danger was past. He had only one queen.
We next hear that the king had not got any son. At the age of seven I didn’t think there was any
need to bother if a man had no son. He might only have been in the way.
Nor are we greatly excited when we hear that the king has gone away into the forest to practise
austerities in order to get a son. There was only one thing that would have made me go into the
forest, and that was to get away from my tutor!
But the king left behind with his queen a small girl, who grew up into a beautiful princess.

Twelve years pass away, and the king goes on practising austerities, and never thinks all this
while of his beautiful daughter. The princess has reached the full bloom of her youth. The age of
marriage has passed, but the king does not return. And the queen pines away with grief and
cries: “Is my golden daughter destined to die unmarried? Ah me, what a fate is mine!”
Then the queen sent men to the king to entreat him earnestly to come back for a single night and
take one meal in the palace. And the king consented.
The queen cooked with her own hand, and with the greatest care, sixty-four dishes. She made a
seat for him of sandal-wood and arranged the food in plates of gold and cups of silver. The
princess stood behind with the peacock-tail fan in her hand. The king, after twelve years’ absence,
came into the house, and the princess waved the fan, lighting up all the room with her beauty.
The king looked in his daughter’s face and forgot to take his food.
At last he asked his queen: “Pray, who is this girl whose beauty shines as the gold image of the
goddess? Whose daughter is she?”
The queen beat her forehead and cried: “Ah, how evil is my fate! Do you not know your own
daughter?”
The king was struck with amazement. He said at last: “My tiny daughter has grown to be a
woman.”

“What else?” the queen said with a sigh. “Do you not know that twelve years have passed by?”
“But why did you not give her in marriage?” asked the king.
“You were away,” the queen said. “And how could I find her a suitable husband?”
The king became vehement with excitement. “The first man I see tomorrow,” he said, “when I
come out of the palace shall marry her.”
The princess went on waving her fan of peacock feathers, and the king finished his meal.
The next morning, as the king came out of his palace, he saw the son of a Brahman gathering
sticks in the forest outside the palace gates. His age was about seven or eight.
The King said: “I will marry my daughter to him.”
Who can interfere with a king’s command? At once the boy was called, and the marriage garlands
were exchanged between him and the princess.
At this point I came up close to my wise Grannie and asked her eagerly: “When then?”
In the bottom of my heart there was a devout wish to substitute myself for that fortunate wood-
gatherer of seven years old. The night was resonant with the patter of rain. The earthen lamp by

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