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10
THE INDIAN ANTIQUARY.
[JUNE, 1921
with my girl friends. Tell me, why are you sleeping so soundly? Have evil days befallen you that you run the risk of being flogged? Has sleep not come to you all night long that you sleep so sound a slumber? Or have you heedlessly slept on my bed thinking there was no master thereof forsooth?"
And Hir cried aloud in her wrath to her maidservants to belabour him with cudgels. The queen in her wrath was furious to behold.
CHAPTER 5.
(The meeting of Ranjha and Hir.)
And Rânjha opened his eyes and beheld Hîr and said:" Be gentle with me, Sweetheart."
And Hir's heart melted within her even as the snows of Kashmir melt under the tyrannous sun of June.
Ranjha had his flute under his arm and earrings were in his ears. His beauty was as the beauty of the full moon. Their four eyes met and clashed in the battlefield of Love. The heart of Hir swelled with happiness even as a loaf swells with leaven. She sat in his lap as lovingly as arrows nestle in the embrace of the quiver. They conversed happily one with the other. Love triumphant rode on the field of victory. The soul of Hir was sore perplexed within her. She abandoned the pride of her beauty and became submissive unto Rânjha.
"It is well," quoth she," that I did not beat you or say anything that was unbecoming." (Poet Wâris, none can withstand when eyes fight with eyes in the tourney of Love.) Ranjha replied: "This world is a dream. Even you, proud Lady, will have to die. You should not be unkind to strangers or treat poor men with haughtiness. Take back your couch and quilt and I will depart hence and be no more seen."
And Hir made reply:-"This couch, Hîr and everything of mine is yours. Surely I did not reproach you. I clasp my hands in front of you. I swear I never lifted a finger against my Lord. I have been wandering masterless amongst my friends, and now God has sent me Rânjha to be my Master."
And Ranjha replied:-" Oh beauteous Lady! be brought to submission without incantations. me, but you walk disdainfully.""
Hir replied:-"I am your slave. Tell me, Friend! Whence have you come? Has some proud woman driven you from your home? Whither and why are you wandering? What is your name? Of what caste are you? Who is the wedded wife you have left behind, for whom you are sorrowing? Your eyes are as soft as the eyes of a deer. Flowers drop from your mouth as you speak. I am even as your slave. Tell me friend, would it please you to graze my father's buffaloes? The herd belongs to my father, but you will be my servant. Does that plan suit my Lord's fancy? When you drink of my father's grey buffaloes' milk you will forget all your sad songs."
Ranjha replied:-"Girl, I am Rânjha and a Jât by caste. I come from Takht Hazara. I am favourite son fo Chaudhri Mauju. On his death evild ays befell me. My brothers by cunning stole the best fields. My portion was stones and bushes, and no rain fell thereon. My brothers burnt me with their taunts until I became like to roasted meat. If your loveliness so please I will graze the herd under the shadow of your eyes, and do whatsoever your heart wishes. But how shall be able to meet you? Let usdevise some plan lest you go away with your girl friends, desert me and kill me in my helplessness."
Lovers, faqirs and black cobras cannot The wine of your beauty has intoxicated
