Bakáwalí replied in wrath: “Why have recourse to such falsehoods? Can any one be married by compulsion? It is sufficient: I have examined your faith and love. May you be happy! I will remain content with my misery, knowing well that in the day of distress none but God is our friend.” With a breaking heart did the prince hear these words. He heaved a deep sigh and wept. Bakáwalí could not endure this; she joined him in tears, and both continued sobbing for some time. At last the prince fell at her feet and she raised and embraced him. “I am not seriously angry with you,” she said; “all that I have spoken was but to try your fidelity. I am happy in your happiness, and am the last person to be indignant with you.” In this way they went on, till the prince explained how he was compelled to marry Chitrawat, and at length succeeded in dispelling all suspicions from her mind.[209] When morning dawned he returned home, and took his place beside his new bride.
Thus night after night the prince passed with Bakáwalí, and the day in conversation with Chitrawat, who was naturally very much out of temper at such conduct. She wondered how it was that her own charms had no effect on the heart of her husband, and ultimately complained to her father of the ungracious manner in which she was treated by the prince. Spies were appointed by the king to watch the nocturnal movements of Táj ul-Mulúk. They discovered him wending his way to the temple of Bakáwalí, where he passed the night, and whence he returned at early dawn. When the king was informed of this, he caused the temple to be demolished and the stones cast into an adjacent stream. On the following night, Táj ul-Mulúk, as usual, went to visit Bakáwalí, and finding no vestige of the temple, he rolled on the ground and exclaimed:
“If I of thee a trace could find, To that spot I’d willing go; But I’m powerless: if the earth Would open wide, I’d sink below!”
At length, overcome by despair, he gave free vent to his tears, and finally returned home. For some days sorrow and hopelessness were his inseparable companions; but when he became convinced that another meeting with Bakáwalí could never take place, and that his grief was of no avail, he turned his attention to the enchanting conversation of Chitrawat, and then it was that the buds of her hopes expanded, touched by the zephyr of his love, and the shell of her desire was made fragrant with the pearls of his affection.