Page:Karl Gjellerup - The Pilgrim Kamanita - 1911.djvu/222

 incomprehensible melting away, this ghostlike loss of action, was a disappointment which I could not bear. The unusual strain to which my whole nature had been subjected found vent in a stream of abuse hurled in Angulimala's face. I called him a dishonourable villain, a faithless, empty braggart, a dastard, and much more—the worst names I could think of—for I hoped that, when irritated in this way, the man, notorious throughout India for his violent temper, would, with one blow of his iron fist, stretch me lifeless on the ground.

But when I stopped, more because breath failed me than words, Angulimala answered with a quiet that put me to shame—

"All this and more also have I deserved from thee, and I do not believe that thou wouldst have been able with it so to irritate even the old Angulimala that he would have killed thee—for to accomplish this, is, as I well perceive, thy intention. But even if another had now said this and worse, I would not only have borne it quietly but would indeed have been grateful to him for giving me the opportunity of undergoing a salutary test. Has not the Master himself taught me: 'Like to the Earth, shalt thou exercise evenness of temper. Even as one casts upon the earth that which is clean and that which is unclean, and the earth is neither horrified thereat nor resists—so also shalt thou, like to the earth, exercise evenness of temper.' For thou dost speak, Vasitthi, not with the robber, but with the disciple, Angulimala."

"What kind of disciple? What Master?" I asked, with contemptuous impatience, although the strange speech of this incomprehensible man did not fail to exercise a peculiar, almost a fascinating, effect upon me.

"He whom they call the Perfect One, the Discerner of