Envious of the repute of this outcast, the priests leagued themselves with a harlot to disgrace him. Kabir came to the market to sell cloths from his loom; when the woman grasped his hand, blaming him for being faithless, and followed him to his house, saying she would not be forsaken, Kabir said to himself, "God answers prayers in his own way." Soon the woman felt a shiver of fear and fell on her knees and cried, "Save me from my sin!" To which he said, "Open your life to God's light!" Kabir worked at his loom and sang, and his songs washed the stains from that woman's heart, and by way of return found a home in her sweet voice. One day the King, in a fit of caprice, sent a message to Kabir to come and sing before him. The weaver shook his head: but the messenger dared not leave his door till his master's errand was fulfilled. The King and his courtiers started at the sight of Kabir when he entered the hall. For he was not alone, the woman followed him. Some smiled, some frowned, and the King's face darkened at the beggar's pride and shamelessness. Kabir came back to his house disgraced, the woman fell at his feet crying, "Why accept such dishonour for my sake, master? Suffer me to go back to my infamy!" Kabir said, "I dare not turn my God away when he comes branded with insult." 25 SOMAKA AND RITVIK SOMAKA AND RITVIK _The shade of_ KING SOMAKA, _faring to Heaven in a chariot, passes other shades by the roadside, among them that of_ RITVIK, _his former high-priest_. A VOICE Where would you go, King? SOMAKA Whose voice is that? This turbid air is like suffocation to the eyes; I cannot see. THE VOICE Come down, King! Come down from that chariot bound for Heaven. SOMAKA Who are you? THE VOICE I am Ritvik, who in my earthly life was your preceptor and the chief priest of your house. SOMAKA Master, all the tears of the world seem to have become vapour to create this realm of vagueness. What make you here? SHADES This hell lies hard by the road to Heaven, whence lights glimmer dimly, only to prove unapproachable. Day and night we listen to the heavenly chariot rumbling by with travellers for that region of bliss; it drives sleep from our eyes and forces them to watch in fruitless jealousy. Far below us earth's old forests rustle and her seas chant the primal hymn of creation: they sound like the wail of a memory that wanders void space in vain. RITVIK Come down, King! SHADES Stop a few moments among us. The earth's tears still cling about you, like dew on freshly culled flowers. You have brought with you the mingled odours of meadow and forest; reminiscence of children, women, and comrades; something too of the ineffable music of the seasons. SOMAKA Master, why are you doomed to live in this muffled stagnant world? RITVIK I offered up your son in the sacrificial fire: _that_ sin has lodged my soul in this obscurity. SHADES