opened like a shell.
And he said: See! it has in it a very strange kernel, preserved safe
and sound only because all its adventures added to its case, sheath
after sheath. And all the leaves are still there, a very little
mouldy, and the silk that tied them, and the seal. And the goddess
said: But what is it after all? And Maheshwara said: It is a case of
urgency, that all came to nothing in the end, being a letter that
never even reached its destination, because the sender was in so great
a hurry that he defeated his own object, bidding his messenger go so
fast that in his haste his boat turned over, and he and his message
were eaten on their way by a river beast. For those who go too fast
often go so slow as never to arrive at all, as was the case here. Then
said Uma: He that sent it must have been a fool. And Maheshwara said!
Nay, O Snowy One, not at all: far from it: and yet he became, as many
do, a fool for the occasion, under the influence of passion, which
blinds the eyes, and shuts up the ears, and twists the whole
character awry, so that it acts in a manner contrary to itself, as if
the man had been suddenly changed into another, or his body entered by
a Wetala, in the temporary absence of his soul.

And Parwati said: What was the passion here? And the Moony-crested god
said slowly: It was a threefold cord, and very strong: love, and love
turned by intense disappointment into hatred, and rage against a
rival: each by itself alone enough to turn reason into madness. But
the whole story is told, by its hero himself, in the very letter: and
if thou wilt, I will read it aloud to thee, exactly as he wrote it,
word for word. And the goddess said: Thou knowest all: why not tell it
in thy own way, without the trouble of reading? And Maheshwara said:
Nay, on the contrary, it is far better to let him tell it for himself:
for who knew everything better than he did? And moreover, every story
told by a stranger is imperfect, since he is obliged to fill up the
gaps in his knowledge by imagination or conjecture: whereas, when the
actor in it all is himself the narrator, it is the very truth itself,
unless he expressly desires to conceal it, which is not the case here.
For he was very anxious indeed to tell his enemy everything, on
purpose to offend him: and he only made one mistake, which I will show
thee in due time. So I will read it exactly as it stands, omitting
absolutely nothing. And the Daughter of the Snow said: Read