Chapter 12Scene 6

Outside Bappa’s cot. Comol Cumary alone.

COMOL Have I too dangerously ventured my all Daring a blast so rude? The Scythian roar Appals no more the forest, nor the warcry Of Ichalgurh climbs mightily the hills; The outlaws’ fierce triumphant shout is stilled Of their young war-god’s name. Who has won? who fallen?

Enter Bappa.

COMOL (coming eagerly to him) How went the fight? You’re safe! And Ichalgurh?

BAPPA Give me your hands; I’ll tell you.

COMOL

I see your head’s Not in the basket.

He takes her hands and draws her towards him.

Cateran, I forbade you To touch me till the seventh day.

BAPPA

I touch What is my own. To bid or to forbid Is mine upon this hillside where I’m sovereign. Sit down by me.

COMOL

I will not be commanded.

She sits down at his feet.

BAPPA Oh, you are right, love. At my feet’s more fitting Who am your master and monarch. Come, no rising. Stay there, where I can watch your antelope eyes Look up at me bright with all love’s own sunshine.

COMOL Oh, you provoke me. You’ve not met the Chouhan, Or you’ld have been much chastened.

BAPPA

I have met him.

COMOL Great Ichalgurh?

BAPPA

We soon o’ercame the Scythians. Your lover, Comol, the great Toraman, Was borne, a mass of terror-stricken flesh, By faithful fugitives headlong down the hillside.

COMOL You need not triumph. These were only Scythians. But what of Ichalgurh?

BAPPA

We fought. I conquered.

COMOL Thou? thou? It is impossible.

BAPPA

But done.

COMOL Why, you’re a boy, a child! O my bright lion, You are a splendid and a royal beast, But very youthful. This was the maned monarch Whose roar shook all the forest when he leaped Upon his opposite. Then the great tusker Went down beneath his huge and tawny front As if it were an antelope. Him you’ve conquered?

BAPPA He fell and yielded.

COMOL

You have learned romance From the wild hill-tops and the stars at night And take your visions for the fact.

BAPPA

Arch-infidel! Ask Sungram.

COMOL

Then I understand. You won As in your duel with me, quite unfairly. You used your sleight of hand?

BAPPA

Perhaps, my princess, His foot slipped and he fell; ’twas my good fortune, Not I that conquered him.

COMOL

Indeed it was Your high resistless fortune. O my king, My hero, thou hast o’erborne great Ichalgurh; Then who can stand against thee? Thou shalt conquer More than my heart.

(Bappa takes her into his arms)

What dost thou, Bheel? Forbear! I did but jest.

BAPPA

Do you recall your letter, Comol? I have outdone the Chouhan, girl.

COMOL Bheel, I wrote nothing, nothing.

BAPPA

I’ll keep you now For my sweet slavegirl, princess? You will not Deny me?

COMOL

’Twas not my hand. Your Coomood forged it. I’ll not admit it.

BAPPA

Rebel against your heart! You’re trapped in your own springe. My antelope!

(kisses her) I’ve brought you to my lair; shall I not prey on you? Kiss me.

COMOL

I will not.

(kisses him)

O not now! O give me The memory of this May to keep with me Till death and afterwards, a dream of greenness With visions of the white and vermeil spring, A prelude set to winds and waterfalls Among the mountains of immortal Dongurh Far from the earth, in a delightful freedom Treading the hill-tops, all the joy of life In front of me to dream of its perfection, Bappa.

BAPPA When you entreat, who shall refuse you, O lips of honey?

COMOL

Till the seventh morning, Bappa.

BAPPA Only till then.

COMOL

That is a promise.

(escaping from him) Which, having won, I do deny, unsay, Wholly recant and absolutely abjure Whatever flattery I have said or done To win it. You are still my Bheel and brigand, My lawless cateran; I great Edur’s princess. I love you! Do not dream of it. Six days! By then my father’ll smoke you from your lair, And take me from your dreadful claws, my lion, An antelope undevoured.

BAPPA

Have you yet thought Of the dire punishments you’ll taste for this, Deceiver?

COMOL

Not till the seventh morning, lion.

Exit.

BAPPA Till then, my antelope, range my hills and make them An Eden for me with thy wondrous beauty Moving in grace and freedom of the winds, Sweetness of the green woodlands; for of these Thou seemst a part and they thy natural country.

Exit.