The Fugitive Part 12

Father, it may be that I have disgraced the rites of your house, but my honour is unsullied; I loved him to whom I bore a son. I remember the night when I received two secret messages, one from you, one from my mother; yours said: "I send you the knife; kill him!" My mother's: "I send you the poison; end your life!" Had unholy force dishonoured me, your double bidding had been obeyed. But my body was yielded only after love had given _me_--love all the greater, all the purer, in that it overcame the hereditary recoil of our blood from the Mussulman.

_Enter_ RAMA, AMA'S _mother_

AMA

Mother mine, I had not hoped to see you again. Let me take dust from your feet.

RAMA

Touch me not with impure hands!

AMA

I am as pure as yourself.

RAMA

To whom have you surrendered your honour?

AMA

To my husband.

RAMA

Husband? A Mussulman the husband of a Brahmin woman?

AMA

I do not merit contempt: I am proud to say I never despised my husband though a Mussulman. If Paradise will reward your devotion to your husband, then the same Paradise waits for your daughter, who has been as true a wife.

RAMA

Are you indeed a true wife?

AMA

Yes.

RAMA

Do you know how to die without flinching?

AMA

I do.

RAMA

Then let the funeral fire be lighted for you! See, there lies the body of your husband.

AMA

Jivaji?

RAMA

Yes, Jivaji. He was your husband by plighted troth. The baffled fire of the nuptial G.o.d has raged into the hungry fire of death, and the interrupted wedding shall be completed now.

VINAYAKA

Do not listen, my child. Go back to your son, to your own nest darkened with sorrow. My duty has been performed to its extreme cruel end, and nothing now remains for you to do.--Wife, your grief is fruitless. Were the branch dead which was violently snapped from our tree, I should give it to the fire. But it has sent living roots into a new soil and is bearing flowers and fruits. Allow her, without regret, to obey the laws of those among whom she has loved. Come, wife, it is time we cut all worldly ties and spent our remainder lives in the seclusion of some peaceful pilgrim shrine.

RAMA

I am ready: but first must tread into dust every sprout of sin and shame that has sprung from the soil of our life. A daughter's infamy stains her mother's honour. That black shame shall feed glowing fire to-night, and raise a true wife's memorial over the ashes of my daughter.

AMA

Mother, if by force you unite me in death with one who was not my husband, then will you bring a curse upon yourself for desecrating the shrine of the Eternal Lord of Death.

RAMA

Soldiers, light the fire; surround the woman!

AMA

Father!