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diff --git a/24869-8.txt b/24869-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..40ad4b8 --- /dev/null +++ b/24869-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,67962 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ramayana + + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no +restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under +the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or +online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license + + + +Title: The Ramayana + + + +Release Date: March 18, 2008 [Ebook #24869] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO 8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RAMAYANA*** + + + + + + *The RÁMÁYAN of VÁLMÍKI* + + *Translated into English Verse* + + *by* + + Ralph T. H. Griffith, M.A. + + Principal of the Benares College + + London: Trübner & Co. + + Benares: E. J. Lazarus and Co. + + 1870-1874 + + + + + +CONTENTS + + +Invocation. +Book I. + Canto I. Nárad. + Canto II. Brahmá's Visit + Canto III. The Argument. + Canto IV. The Rhapsodists. + Canto V. Ayodhyá. + Canto VI. The King. + Canto VII. The Ministers. + Canto VIII. Sumantra's Speech. + Canto IX. Rishyasring. + Canto X. Rishyasring Invited. + Canto XI. The Sacrifice Decreed. + Canto XII. The Sacrifice Begun. + Canto XIII. The Sacrifice Finished. + Canto XIV. Rávan Doomed. + Canto XV. The Nectar. + Canto XVI. The Vánars. + Canto XVII. Rishyasring's Return. + Canto XVIII. Rishyasring's Departure. + Canto XIX. The Birth Of The Princes. + Canto XX. Visvámitra's Visit. + Canto XXI. Visvámitra's Speech. + Canto XXII. Dasaratha's Speech. + Canto XXIII. Vasishtha's Speech. + Canto XXIV. The Spells. + Canto XXV. The Hermitage Of Love. + Canto XXVI. The Forest Of Tádaká. + Canto XXVII. The Birth Of Tádaká. + Canto XXVIII. The Death Of Tádaká. + Canto XXIX. The Celestial Arms. + Canto XXX. The Mysterious Powers. + Canto XXXI. The Perfect Hermitage. + Canto XXXII. Visvámitra's Sacrifice. + Canto XXXIII. The Sone. + Canto XXXIV. Brahmadatta. + Canto XXXV. Visvámitra's Lineage. + Canto XXXVI. The Birth Of Gangá. + Canto XXXIX. The Sons Of Sagar. + Canto XL. The Cleaving Of The Earth. + Canto XLI. Kapil. + Canto XLII. Sagar's Sacrifice. + Canto XLIII. Bhagírath. + Canto XLIV. The Descent Of Gangá. + Canto XLV. The Quest Of The Amrit. + Canto XLVI. Diti's Hope. + Canto XLVII. Sumati. + Canto XLVIII. Indra And Ahalyá + Canto XLIX. Ahalyá Freed. + Canto L. Janak. + Canto LI. Visvámitra. + Canto LII. Vasishtha's Feast. + Canto LIII. Visvámitra's Request. + Canto LIV. The Battle. + Canto LV. The Hermitage Burnt. + Canto LVI. Visvámitra's Vow. + Canto LVII. Trisanku. + Canto LVIII. Trisanku Cursed. + Canto LIX. The Sons Of Vasishtha. + Canto LX. Trisanku's Ascension. + Canto LXI. Sunahsepha. + Canto LXII. Ambarísha's Sacrifice. + Canto LXIII. Menaká. + Canto LXIV. Rambhá. + Canto LXV. Visvámitra's Triumph + Canto LXVI. Janak's Speech. + Canto LXVII. The Breaking Of The Bow. + Canto LXVIII. The Envoys' Speech. + Canto LXIX. Dasaratha's Visit. + Canto LXX. The Maidens Sought. + Canto LXXI. Janak's Pedigree. + Canto LXXII. The Gift Of Kine. + Canto LXXIII. The Nuptials. + Canto LXXIV. Ráma With The Axe. + Canto LXXV. The Parle. + Canto LXXVI. Debarred From Heaven. + Canto LXXVII. Bharat's Departure. +BOOK II. + Canto I. The Heir Apparent. + Canto II. The People's Speech. + Canto III. Dasaratha's Precepts. + Canto IV. Ráma Summoned. + Canto V. Ráma's Fast. + Canto VI. The City Decorated. + Canto VII. Manthará's Lament. + Canto VIII. Manthará's Speech. + Canto IX. The Plot. + Canto X. Dasaratha's Speech. + Canto XI. The Queen's Demand. + Canto XII. Dasaratha's Lament. + Canto XIII. Dasaratha's Distress. + Canto XIV. Ráma Summoned. + Canto XV. The Preparations. + Canto XVI. Ráma Summoned. + Canto XVII. Ráma's Approach. + Canto XVIII. The Sentence. + Canto XIX. Ráma's Promise. + Canto XX. Kausalyá's Lament. + Canto XXI. Kausalyá Calmed. + Canto XXII. Lakshman Calmed. + Canto XXIII. Lakshman's Anger. + Canto XXIV. Kausalyá Calmed. + Canto XXV. Kausalyá's Blessing. + Canto XXVI. Alone With Sítá. + Canto XXVII. Sítá's Speech. + Canto XXVIII. The Dangers Of The Wood. + Canto XXIX. Sítá's Appeal. + Canto XXX. The Triumph Of Love. + Canto XXXI. Lakshman's Prayer. + Canto XXXII. The Gift Of The Treasures. + Canto XXXIII. The People's Lament. + Canto XXXIV. Ráma In The Palace. + Canto XXXV. Kaikeyí Reproached. + Canto XXXVI. Siddhárth's Speech. + Canto XXXVII. The Coats Of Bark. + Canto XXXVIII. Care For Kausalyá + Canto XXXIX. Counsel To Sítá. + Canto XL. Ráma's Departure. + Canto XLI. The Citizens' Lament. + Canto XLII. Dasaratha's Lament. + Canto XLIII. Kausalyá's Lament. + Canto XLIV. Sumitrá's Speech. + Canto XLV. The Tamasá. + Canto XLVI. The Halt. + Canto XLVII. The Citizens' Return. + Canto XLVIII. The Women's Lament. + Canto XLIX. The Crossing Of The Rivers. + Canto L. The Halt Under The Ingudí. + Canto LI. Lakshman's Lament. + Canto LII. The Crossing Of Gangá. + Canto LIII. Ráma's Lament. + Canto LIV. Bharadvája's Hermitage. + Canto LV. The Passage Of Yamuná. + Canto LVI. Chitrakúta + Canto LVII. Sumantra's Return. + Canto LVIII. Ráma's Message. + Canto LIX. Dasaratha's Lament. + Canto LX. Kausalyá Consoled. + Canto LXI. Kausalyá's Lament. + Canto LXII. Dasaratha Consoled. + Canto LXIII. The Hermit's Son. + Canto LXIV. Dasaratha's Death. + Canto LXV. The Women's Lament. + Canto LXVI. The Embalming. + Canto LXVII. The Praise Of Kings. + Canto LXVIII. The Envoys. + Canto LXIX. Bharat's Dream. + Canto LXX. Bharat's Departure. + Canto LXXI. Bharat's Return. + Canto LXXII. Bharat's Inquiry. + Canto LXXIII. Kaikeyí Reproached. + Canto LXXIV. Bharat's Lament. + Canto LXXV. The Abjuration. + Canto LXXVI. The Funeral. + Canto LXXVII. The Gathering Of The Ashes. + Canto LXXVIII. Manthará Punished. + Canto LXXIX. Bharat's Commands. + Canto LXXX. The Way Prepared. + Canto LXXXI. The Assembly. + Canto LXXXII. The Departure. + Canto LXXXIII. The Journey Begun. + Canto LXXXIV. Guha's Anger. + Canto LXXXV. Guha And Bharat. + Canto LXXXVI. Guha's Speech. + Canto LXXXVII. Guha's Story. + Canto LXXXVIII. The Ingudí Tree. + Canto LXXXIX. The Passage Of Gangá. + Canto XC. The Hermitage. + Canto XCI. Bharadvája's Feast. + Canto XCII. Bharat's Farewell. + Canto XCIII. Chitrakúta In Sight. + Canto XCIV. Chitrakúta. + Canto XCV. Mandákiní. + Canto XCVI. The Magic Shaft. + Canto XCVII. Lakshman's Anger. + Canto XCVIII. Lakshman Calmed. + Canto XCIX. Bharat's Approach. + Canto C. The Meeting. + Canto CI. Bharata Questioned. + Canto CII. Bharat's Tidings. + Canto CIII. The Funeral Libation. + Canto CIV. The Meeting With The Queens. + Canto CV. Ráma's Speech. + Canto CVI. Bharat's Speech. + Canto CVII. Ráma's Speech. + Canto CVIII. Jáváli's Speech. + Canto CIX. The Praises Of Truth. + Canto CX. The Sons Of Ikshváku. + Canto CXI. Counsel To Bharat. + Canto CXII. The Sandals. + Canto CXIII. Bharat's Return. + Canto CXIV. Bharat's Departure. + Canto CXV. Nandigrám. + Canto CXVI. The Hermit's Speech. + Canto CXVII. Anasúyá. + Canto CXVIII. Anasúyá's Gifts. + Canto CXIX. The Forest. +BOOK III. + Canto I. The Hermitage. + Canto II. Virádha. + Canto III. Virádha Attacked. + Canto IV. Virádha's Death. + Canto V. Sarabhanga. + Canto VI. Ráma's Promise. + Canto VII. Sutíkshna. + Canto VIII. The Hermitage. + Canto IX. Sítá's Speech. + Canto X. Ráma's Reply. + Canto XI. Agastya. + Canto XII. The Heavenly Bow. + Canto XIII. Agastya's Counsel. + Canto XIV. Jatáyus. + Canto XV. Panchavatí. + Canto XVI. Winter. + Canto XVII. Súrpanakhá. + Canto XVIII. The Mutilation. + Canto XIX. The Rousing Of Khara. + Canto XX. The Giants' Death. + Canto XXI. The Rousing Of Khara. + Canto XXII. Khara's Wrath. + Canto XXIII. The Omens. + Canto XXIV. The Host In Sight. + Canto XXV. The Battle. + Canto XXVI. Dúshan's Death. + Canto XXVII. The Death Of Trisirás. + Canto XXVIII. Khara Dismounted. + Canto XXIX. Khara's Defeat. + Canto XXX. Khara's Death. + Canto XXXI. Rávan. + Canto XXXII. Rávan Roused. + Canto XXXIII. Súrpanakhá's Speech. + Canto XXXIV. Súrpanakhá's Speech. + Canto XXXV. Rávan's Journey. + Canto XXXVI. Rávan's Speech. + Canto XXXVII. Márícha's Speech. + Canto XXXVIII. Márícha's Speech. + Canto XXXIX. Márícha's Speech. + Canto XL. Rávan's Speech. + Canto XLI. Márícha's Reply. + Canto XLII. Márícha Transformed. + Canto XLIII. The Wondrous Deer. + Canto XLIV. Márícha's Death. + Canto XLV. Lakshman's Departure. + Canto XLVI. The Guest. + Canto XLVII. Rávan's Wooing. + Canto XLVIII. Rávan's Speech. + Canto XLIX. The Rape Of Sítá. + Canto L. Jatáyus. + Canto LI. The Combat. + Canto LII. Rávan's Flight. + Canto LIII. Sítá's Threats. + Canto LIV. Lanká. + Canto LV. Sítá In Prison. + Canto LVI. Sítá's Disdain. + Canto LVII. Sítá Comforted. + Canto LVIII. The Brothers' Meeting. + Canto LIX. Ráma's Return. + Canto LX. Lakshman Reproved. + Canto LXI. Ráma's Lament. + Canto LXII. Ráma's Lament. + Canto LXIII. Ráma's Lament. + Canto LXIV. Ráma's Lament. + Canto LXV. Ráma's Wrath. + Canto LXVI. Lakshman's Speech. + Canto LXVII. Ráma Appeased. + Canto LXVIII. Jatáyus. + Canto LXIX. The Death Of Jatáyus. + Canto LXX. Kabandha. + Canto LXXI. Kabandha's Speech. + Canto LXXII. Kabandha's Tale. + Canto LXXIII. Kabandha's Counsel. + Canto LXXIV. Kabandha's Death. + Canto LXXV. Savarí. + Canto LXXVI. Pampá. +BOOK IV. + Canto I. Ráma's Lament. + Canto II. Sugríva's Alarm. + Canto III. Hanumán's Speech. + Canto IV. Lakshman's Reply. + Canto V. The League. + Canto VI. The Tokens. + Canto VII. Ráma Consoled. + Canto VIII. Ráma's Promise. + Canto IX. Sugríva's Story. + Canto X. Sugríva's Story. + Canto XI. Dundubhi. + Canto XII. The Palm Trees. + Canto XIII. The Return To Kishkindhá. + Canto XIV. The Challenge. + Canto XV. Tárá. + Canto XVI. The Fall Of Báli. + Canto XVII. Báli's Speech. + Canto XVIII. Ráma's Reply. + Canto XIX. Tárá's Grief. + Canto XX. Tárá's Lament. + Canto XXI. Hanumán's Speech. + Canto XXII. Báli Dead. + Canto XXIII. Tárá's Lament. + Canto XXIV. Sugríva's Lament. + Canto XXV. Ráma's Speech. + Canto XXVI. The Coronation. + Canto XXVII. Ráma On The Hill. + Canto XXVIII. The Rains. + Canto XXIX. Hanumán's Counsel. + Canto XXX. Ráma's Lament. + Canto XXXI. The Envoy. + Canto XXXII. Hanumán's Counsel. + Canto XXXIII. Lakshman's Entry. + Canto XXXIV. Lakshman's Speech. + Canto XXXV. Tárá's Speech. + Canto XXXVI. Sugríva's Speech. + Canto XXXVII. The Gathering. + Canto XXXVIII. Sugríva's Departure. + Canto XXXIX. The Vánar Host. + Canto XL. The Army Of The East. + Canto XLI. The Army Of The South. + Canto XLII. The Army Of The West. + Canto XLIII. The Army Of The North. + Canto XLIV. The Ring. + Canto XLV. The Departure. + Canto XLVI. Sugríva's Tale. + Canto XLVII. The Return. + Canto XLVIII. The Asur's Death. + Canto XLIX. Angad's Speech. + Canto L. The Enchanted Cave. + Canto LI. Svayamprabhá. + Canto LII. The Exit. + Canto LIII. Angad's Counsel. + Canto LIV. Hanumán's Speech. + Canto LV. Angad's Reply. + Canto LVI. Sampáti. + Canto LVII. Angad's Speech. + Canto LVIII. Tidings Of Sítá. + Canto LIX. Sampáti's Story. + Canto LX. Sampáti's Story. + Canto LXI. Sampáti's Story. + Canto LXII. Sampáti's Story. + Canto LXIII. Sampáti's Story. + Canto LXIV. The Sea. + Canto LXV. The Council. + Canto LXVI. Hanumán. + Canto LXVII. Hanumán's Speech. +BOOK V. + Canto I. Hanumán's Leap. + Canto II. Lanká. + Canto III. The Guardian Goddess. + Canto IV. Within The City. + Canto VI. The Court. + Canto VII. Rávan's Palace. + Canto VIII. The Enchanted Car. + Canto IX. The Ladies' Bower. + Canto X. Rávan Asleep. + Canto XI. The Banquet Hall. + Canto XII. The Search Renewed. + Canto XIII. Despair And Hope. + Canto XIV. The Asoka Grove. + Canto XV. Sítá. + Canto XVI. Hanumán's Lament. + Canto XVII. Sítá's Guard. + Canto XVIII. Rávan. + Canto XIX. Sítá's Fear. + Canto XX. Rávan's Wooing. + Canto XXI. Sítá's Scorn. + Canto XXII. Rávan's Threat. + Canto XXIII. The Demons' Threats. + Canto XXIV. Sítá's Reply. + Canto XXV. Sítá's Lament. + Canto XXVI. Sítá's Lament. + Canto XXVII. Trijatá's Dream. + Canto XXX. Hanumán's Deliberation. + Canto XXXI. Hanumán's Speech. + Canto XXXII. Sítá's Doubt. + Canto XXXIII. The Colloquy. + Canto XXXIV. Hanumán's Speech. + Canto XXXV. Hanumán's Speech. + Canto XXXVI. Ráma's Ring. + Canto XXXVII. Sítá's Speech. + Canto XXXVIII. Sítá's Gem. + Canto XLI. The Ruin Of The Grove. + Canto XLII. The Giants Roused. + Canto XLIII. The Ruin Of The Temple. + Canto XLIV. Jambumáli's Death. + Canto XLV. The Seven Defeated. + Canto XLVI. The Captains. + Canto XLVII. The Death Of Aksha. + Canto XLVIII. Hanumán Captured. + Canto XLIX. Rávan. + Canto L. Prahasta's Questions. + Canto LI. Hanumán's Reply. + Canto LII. Vibhishan's Speech. + Canto LIII. The Punishment. + Canto LIV. The Burning Of Lanká. + Canto LV. Fear For Sítá. + Canto LVI. Mount Arishta. + Canto LVII. Hanumán's Return. + Canto LVIII. The Feast Of Honey. + Canto LXV. The Tidings. + Canto LXVI. Ráma's Speech. +BOOK VI. + Canto I. Ráma's Speech. + Canto II. Sugríva's Speech. + Canto III. Lanká. + Canto IV. The March. + Canto V. Ráma's Lament. + Canto VI. Rávan's Speech. + Canto VII. Rávan Encouraged. + Canto VIII. Prahasta's Speech. + Canto IX. Vibhishan's Counsel. + Canto X. Vibhishan's Counsel. + Canto XI. The Summons. + Canto XII. Rávan's Speech. + Canto XIII. Rávan's Speech. + Canto XIV. Vibhishan's Speech. + Canto XV. Indrajít's Speech. + Canto XVI. Rávan's Speech. + Canto XVII. Vibhishan's Flight. + Canto XVIII. Ráma's Speech. + Canto XIX. Vibhishan's Counsel. + Canto XX. The Spies. + Canto XXI. Ocean Threatened. + Canto XXII. Ocean Threatened. + Canto XXIII. The Omens. + Canto XXIV. The Spy's Return. + Canto XXV. Rávan's Spies. + Canto XXVI. The Vánar Chiefs. + Canto XXVII. The Vánar Chiefs. + Canto XXVIII. The Chieftains. + Canto XXIX. Sárdúla Captured. + Canto XXX. Sárdúla's Speech. + Canto XXXI. The Magic Head. + Canto XXXII. Sítá's Lament. + Canto XXXIII. Saramá. + Canto XXXIV. Saramá's Tidings. + Canto XXXV. Malyaván's Speech. + Canto XXXVI. Rávan's Reply. + Canto XXXVII. Preparations. + Canto XXXVIII. The Ascent Of Suvela. + Canto XXXIX. Lanká. + Canto XL. Rávan Attacked. + Canto XLI. Ráma's Envoy. + Canto XLII. The Sally. + Canto XLIII. The Single Combats. + Canto XLIV. The Night. + Canto XLV. Indrajít's Victory. + Canto XLVI. Indrajít's Triumph. + Canto XLVII. Sítá. + Canto XLVIII. Sítá's Lament. + Canto XLIX. Ráma's Lament. + Canto L. The Broken Spell. + Canto LI. Dhúmráksha's Sally. + Canto LII. Dhúmráksha's Death. + Canto LIII. Vajradanshtra's Sally. + Canto LIV. Vajradanshtra's Death. + Canto LIX. Rávan's Sally. + Canto LX. Kumbhakarna Roused. + Canto LXI. The Vánars' Alarm. + Canto LXII. Rávan's Request. + Canto LXIII. Kumbhakarna's Boast. + Canto LXIV. Mahodar's Speech. + Canto LXV. Kumbhakarna's Speech. + Canto LXVI. Kumbhakarna's Sally. + Canto LXVII. Kumbhakarna's Death. + Canto LXVIII. Rávan's Lament. + Canto LXIX. Narántak's Death. + Canto LXX. The Death Of Trisirás. + Canto LXXI. Atikáya's Death. + Canto LXXII. Rávan's Speech. + Canto LXXIII. Indrajít's Victory. + Canto LXXIV. The Medicinal Herbs. + Canto LXXV. The Night Attack. + Canto XCIII. Rávan's Lament. + Canto XCVI. Rávan's Sally. + Canto C. Rávan In The Field. + Canto CI. Lakshman's Fall. + Canto CII. Lakshman Healed. + Canto CIII. Indra's Car. + Canto CVI. Glory To The Sun. + Canto CVIII. The Battle. + Canto CIX. The Battle. + Canto CX. Rávan's Death. + Canto CXI. Vibhishan's Lament. + Canto CXII. The Rákshas Dames. + Canto CXIII. Mandodarí's Lament. + Canto CXIV. Vibhishan Consecrated. + Canto CXV. Sítá's Joy. + Canto CXVI. The Meeting. + Canto CXVII. Sítá's Disgrace. + Canto CXVIII. Sítá's Reply. + Canto CXIX. Glory To Vishnu. + Canto CXX. Sítá Restored. + Canto CXXI. Dasaratha. + Canto CXXII. Indra's Boon. + Canto CXXIII. The Magic Car. + Canto CXXIV. The Departure. + Canto CXXV. The Return. + Canto CXXVI. Bharat Consoled. + Canto CXXVII. Ráma's Message. + Canto CXXVIII. Hanumán's Story. + Canto CXXIX. The Meeting With Bharat. + Canto CXXX. The Consecration. +APPENDIX. + Section XIII. Rávan Doomed. + Caput XIV. RATIO NECANDI RAVANAE EXCOGITATA. + Caput XIV. IL MEZZO STABILITO PER UCCIDERE RÁVANO. + XIV. + Uttarakánda. +ADDITIONAL NOTES. + Queen Fortune. + Indra. + Vishnu. + Siva. + Apsarases. + Vishnu's Incarnation As Ráma. + Kusa and Lava. + Parasuráma, Page 87. + Yáma, Page 68. + Fate, Page 68. + Visvámitra, Page 76. + Household Gods, Page 102. + Page 107. + Page 108. + Page 109. + Page 110. + Page 120. + Page 125. + Page 125. + Page 136. + Page 152. + Page 157. + Page 161. + Page 169. + Page 174. The Praise Of Kings + Page 176. Sálmalí. + Page 178. Bharat's Return. + Page 183. + Page 203. + Page 219. + Page 249. + Page 250. + Page 257. + Page 286. Urvasí. + Page 324. + Page 326. + Page 329. Ráma's Alliance With Sugríva. + Page 342. The Fall Of Báli. + Page 370. The Vánar Host. + Page 372. + Page 374. + Page 378. Northern Kurus. + Page 428. + Page 431. + Page 434. + Page 436. + Page 452. + Page 462. + Page 466. + Page 470. + Page 497. + Page 489. + Page 489. + Page 492. Rávan's Funeral. + Page 496. + Page 503. The Meeting. + Final Notes. +INDEX OF PRINCIPAL NAMES +Footnotes + + + + + + +INVOCATION.(1) + + +Praise to Válmíki,(2)bird of charming song,(3) + Who mounts on Poesy's sublimest spray, +And sweetly sings with accent clear and strong + Ráma, aye Ráma, in his deathless lay. + +Where breathes the man can listen to the strain + That flows in music from Válmíki's tongue, +Nor feel his feet the path of bliss attain + When Ráma's glory by the saint is sung! + +The stream Rámáyan leaves its sacred fount + The whole wide world from sin and stain to free.(4) +The Prince of Hermits is the parent mount, + The lordly Ráma is the darling sea. + +Glory to him whose fame is ever bright! + Glory to him, Prachetas'(5)holy son! +Whose pure lips quaff with ever new delight + The nectar-sea of deeds by Ráma done. + +Hail, arch-ascetic, pious, good, and kind! + Hail, Saint Válmíki, lord of every lore! +Hail, holy Hermit, calm and pure of mind! + Hail, First of Bards, Válmíki, hail once more! + + + + + +BOOK I.(6) + + + + +Canto I. Nárad.(7) + + +OM.(8) + + To sainted Nárad, prince of those +Whose lore in words of wisdom flows. +Whose constant care and chief delight +Were Scripture and ascetic rite, +The good Válmíki, first and best +Of hermit saints, these words addressed:(9) +"In all this world, I pray thee, who +Is virtuous, heroic, true? +Firm in his vows, of grateful mind, +To every creature good and kind? +Bounteous, and holy, just, and wise, +Alone most fair to all men's eyes? +Devoid of envy, firm, and sage, +Whose tranquil soul ne'er yields to rage? +Whom, when his warrior wrath is high, +Do Gods embattled fear and fly? +Whose noble might and gentle skill +The triple world can guard from ill? +Who is the best of princes, he +Who loves his people's good to see? +The store of bliss, the living mine +Where brightest joys and virtues shine? +Queen Fortune's(10) best and dearest friend, +Whose steps her choicest gifts attend? +Who may with Sun and Moon compare, +With Indra,(11) Vishnu,(12) Fire, and Air? +Grant, Saint divine,(13) the boon I ask, +For thee, I ween, an easy task, +To whom the power is given to know +If such a man breathe here below." +Then Nárad, clear before whose eye +The present, past, and future lie,(14) +Made ready answer: "Hermit, where +Are graces found so high and rare? +Yet listen, and my tongue shall tell +In whom alone these virtues dwell. +From old Ikshváku's(15) line he came, +Known to the world by Ráma's name: +With soul subdued, a chief of might, +In Scripture versed, in glory bright, +His steps in virtue's paths are bent, +Obedient, pure, and eloquent. +In each emprise he wins success, +And dying foes his power confess. +Tall and broad-shouldered, strong of limb, +Fortune has set her mark on him. +Graced with a conch-shell's triple line, +His throat displays the auspicious sign.(16) +High destiny is clear impressed +On massive jaw and ample chest, +His mighty shafts he truly aims, +And foemen in the battle tames. +Deep in the muscle, scarcely shown, +Embedded lies his collar-bone. +His lordly steps are firm and free, +His strong arms reach below his knee;(17) +All fairest graces join to deck +His head, his brow, his stately neck, +And limbs in fair proportion set: +The manliest form e'er fashioned yet. +Graced with each high imperial mark, +His skin is soft and lustrous dark. +Large are his eyes that sweetly shine +With majesty almost divine. +His plighted word he ne'er forgets; +On erring sense a watch he sets. +By nature wise, his teacher's skill +Has trained him to subdue his will. +Good, resolute and pure, and strong, +He guards mankind from scathe and wrong, +And lends his aid, and ne'er in vain, +The cause of justice to maintain. +Well has he studied o'er and o'er +The Vedas(18)and their kindred lore. +Well skilled is he the bow to draw,(19) +Well trained in arts and versed in law; +High-souled and meet for happy fate, +Most tender and compassionate; +The noblest of all lordly givers, +Whom good men follow, as the rivers +Follow the King of Floods, the sea: +So liberal, so just is he. +The joy of Queen Kausalyá's(20)heart, +In every virtue he has part: +Firm as Himálaya's(21) snowy steep, +Unfathomed like the mighty deep: +The peer of Vishnu's power and might, +And lovely as the Lord of Night;(22) +Patient as Earth, but, roused to ire, +Fierce as the world-destroying fire; +In bounty like the Lord of Gold,(23) +And Justice self in human mould. + + With him, his best and eldest son, +By all his princely virtues won +King Dasaratha(24) willed to share +His kingdom as the Regent Heir. +But when Kaikeyí, youngest queen, +With eyes of envious hate had seen +The solemn pomp and regal state +Prepared the prince to consecrate, +She bade the hapless king bestow +Two gifts he promised long ago, +That Ráma to the woods should flee, +And that her child the heir should be. + + By chains of duty firmly tied, +The wretched king perforce complied. +Ráma, to please Kaikeyí went +Obedient forth to banishment. +Then Lakshman's truth was nobly shown, +Then were his love and courage known, +When for his brother's sake he dared +All perils, and his exile shared. +And Sítá, Ráma's darling wife, +Loved even as he loved his life, +Whom happy marks combined to bless, +A miracle of loveliness, +Of Janak's royal lineage sprung, +Most excellent of women, clung +To her dear lord, like Rohiní +Rejoicing with the Moon to be.(25) +The King and people, sad of mood, +The hero's car awhile pursued. +But when Prince Ráma lighted down +At Sringavera's pleasant town, +Where Gangá's holy waters flow, +He bade his driver turn and go. +Guha, Nishádas' king, he met, +And on the farther bank was set. +Then on from wood to wood they strayed, +O'er many a stream, through constant shade, +As Bharadvája bade them, till +They came to Chitrakúta's hill. +And Ráma there, with Lakshman's aid, +A pleasant little cottage made, +And spent his days with Sítá, dressed +In coat of bark and deerskin vest.(26) +And Chitrakúta grew to be +As bright with those illustrious three +As Meru's(27) sacred peaks that shine +With glory, when the Gods recline +Beneath them: Siva's(28) self between +The Lord of Gold and Beauty's Queen. + + The aged king for Ráma pined, +And for the skies the earth resigned. +Bharat, his son, refused to reign, +Though urged by all the twice-born(29) train. +Forth to the woods he fared to meet +His brother, fell before his feet, +And cried, "Thy claim all men allow: +O come, our lord and king be thou." +But Ráma nobly chose to be +Observant of his sire's decree. +He placed his sandals(30) in his hand +A pledge that he would rule the land: +And bade his brother turn again. +Then Bharat, finding prayer was vain, +The sandals took and went away; +Nor in Ayodhyá would he stay. +But turned to Nandigráma, where +He ruled the realm with watchful care, +Still longing eagerly to learn +Tidings of Ráma's safe return. + + Then lest the people should repeat +Their visit to his calm retreat, +Away from Chitrakúta's hill +Fared Ráma ever onward till +Beneath the shady trees he stood +Of Dandaká's primeval wood, +Virádha, giant fiend, he slew, +And then Agastya's friendship knew. +Counselled by him he gained the sword +And bow of Indra, heavenly lord: +A pair of quivers too, that bore +Of arrows an exhaustless store. +While there he dwelt in greenwood shade +The trembling hermits sought his aid, +And bade him with his sword and bow +Destroy the fiends who worked them woe: +To come like Indra strong and brave, +A guardian God to help and save. +And Ráma's falchion left its trace +Deep cut on Súrpanakhá's face: +A hideous giantess who came +Burning for him with lawless flame. +Their sister's cries the giants heard. +And vengeance in each bosom stirred: +The monster of the triple head. +And Dúshan to the contest sped. +But they and myriad fiends beside +Beneath the might of Ráma died. + + When Rávan, dreaded warrior, knew +The slaughter of his giant crew: +Rávan, the king, whose name of fear +Earth, hell, and heaven all shook to hear: +He bade the fiend Márícha aid +The vengeful plot his fury laid. +In vain the wise Márícha tried +To turn him from his course aside: +Not Rávan's self, he said, might hope +With Ráma and his strength to cope. +Impelled by fate and blind with rage +He came to Ráma's hermitage. +There, by Márícha's magic art, +He wiled the princely youths apart, +The vulture(31) slew, and bore away +The wife of Ráma as his prey. +The son of Raghu(32) came and found +Jatáyu slain upon the ground. +He rushed within his leafy cot; +He sought his wife, but found her not. +Then, then the hero's senses failed; +In mad despair he wept and wailed. +Upon the pile that bird he laid, +And still in quest of Sítá strayed. +A hideous giant then he saw, +Kabandha named, a shape of awe. +The monstrous fiend he smote and slew, +And in the flame the body threw; +When straight from out the funeral flame +In lovely form Kabandha came, +And bade him seek in his distress +A wise and holy hermitess. +By counsel of this saintly dame +To Pampá's pleasant flood he came, +And there the steadfast friendship won +Of Hanumán the Wind-God's son. +Counselled by him he told his grief +To great Sugríva, Vánar chief, +Who, knowing all the tale, before +The sacred flame alliance swore. +Sugríva to his new-found friend +Told his own story to the end: +His hate of Báli for the wrong +And insult he had borne so long. +And Ráma lent a willing ear +And promised to allay his fear. +Sugríva warned him of the might +Of Báli, matchless in the fight, +And, credence for his tale to gain, +Showed the huge fiend(33) by Báli slain. +The prostrate corse of mountain size +Seemed nothing in the hero's eyes; +He lightly kicked it, as it lay, +And cast it twenty leagues(34) away. +To prove his might his arrows through +Seven palms in line, uninjured, flew. +He cleft a mighty hill apart, +And down to hell he hurled his dart. +Then high Sugríva's spirit rose, +Assured of conquest o'er his foes. +With his new champion by his side +To vast Kishkindhá's cave he hied. +Then, summoned by his awful shout, +King Báli came in fury out, +First comforted his trembling wife, +Then sought Sugríva in the strife. +One shaft from Ráma's deadly bow +The monarch in the dust laid low. +Then Ráma bade Sugríva reign +In place of royal Báli slain. +Then speedy envoys hurried forth +Eastward and westward, south and north, +Commanded by the grateful king +Tidings of Ráma's spouse to bring. + + Then by Sampáti's counsel led, +Brave Hanumán, who mocked at dread, +Sprang at one wild tremendous leap +Two hundred leagues across the deep. +To Lanká's(35) town he urged his way, +Where Rávan held his royal sway. +There pensive 'neath Asoka(36) boughs +He found poor Sítá, Ráma's spouse. +He gave the hapless girl a ring, +A token from her lord and king. +A pledge from her fair hand he bore; +Then battered down the garden door. +Five captains of the host he slew, +Seven sons of councillors o'erthrew; +Crushed youthful Aksha on the field, +Then to his captors chose to yield. +Soon from their bonds his limbs were free, +But honouring the high decree +Which Brahmá(37) had pronounced of yore, +He calmly all their insults bore. +The town he burnt with hostile flame, +And spoke again with Ráma's dame, +Then swiftly back to Ráma flew +With tidings of the interview. + + Then with Sugríva for his guide, +Came Ráma to the ocean side. +He smote the sea with shafts as bright +As sunbeams in their summer height, +And quick appeared the Rivers' King(38) +Obedient to the summoning. +A bridge was thrown by Nala o'er +The narrow sea from shore to shore.(39) +They crossed to Lanká's golden town, +Where Ráma's hand smote Rávan down. +Vibhishan there was left to reign +Over his brother's wide domain. +To meet her husband Sítá came; +But Ráma, stung with ire and shame, +With bitter words his wife addressed +Before the crowd that round her pressed. +But Sítá, touched with noble ire, +Gave her fair body to the fire. +Then straight the God of Wind appeared, +And words from heaven her honour cleared. +And Ráma clasped his wife again, +Uninjured, pure from spot and stain, +Obedient to the Lord of Fire +And the high mandate of his sire. +Led by the Lord who rules the sky, +The Gods and heavenly saints drew nigh, +And honoured him with worthy meed, +Rejoicing in each glorious deed. +His task achieved, his foe removed, +He triumphed, by the Gods approved. +By grace of Heaven he raised to life +The chieftains slain in mortal strife; +Then in the magic chariot through +The clouds to Nandigráma flew. +Met by his faithful brothers there, +He loosed his votive coil of hair: +Thence fair Ayodhyá's town he gained, +And o'er his father's kingdom reigned. +Disease or famine ne'er oppressed +His happy people, richly blest +With all the joys of ample wealth, +Of sweet content and perfect health. +No widow mourned her well-loved mate, +No sire his son's untimely fate. +They feared not storm or robber's hand; +No fire or flood laid waste the land: +The Golden Age(40) had come again +To bless the days of Ráma's reign. + + From him, the great and glorious king, +Shall many a princely scion spring. +And he shall rule, beloved by men, +Ten thousand years and hundreds ten,(41) +And when his life on earth is past +To Brahmá's world shall go at last." + + Whoe'er this noble poem reads +That tells the tale of Ráma's deeds, +Good as the Scriptures, he shall be +From every sin and blemish free. +Whoever reads the saving strain, +With all his kin the heavens shall gain. +Bráhmans who read shall gather hence +The highest praise for eloquence. +The warrior, o'er the land shall reign, +The merchant, luck in trade obtain; +And Súdras listening(42) ne'er shall fail +To reap advantage from the tale.(43) + + + + +Canto II. Brahmá's Visit + + +Válmíki, graceful speaker, heard, +To highest admiration stirred. +To him whose fame the tale rehearsed +He paid his mental worship first; +Then with his pupil humbly bent +Before the saint most eloquent. +Thus honoured and dismissed the seer +Departed to his heavenly sphere. +Then from his cot Válmíki hied +To Tamasá's(44) sequestered side, +Not far remote from Gangá's tide. +He stood and saw the ripples roll +Pellucid o'er a pebbly shoal. +To Bharadvája(45) by his side +He turned in ecstasy, and cried: +"See, pupil dear, this lovely sight, +The smooth-floored shallow, pure and bright, +With not a speck or shade to mar, +And clear as good men's bosoms are. +Here on the brink thy pitcher lay, +And bring my zone of bark, I pray. +Here will I bathe: the rill has not, +To lave the limbs, a fairer spot. +Do quickly as I bid, nor waste +The precious time; away, and haste." + + Obedient to his master's hest +Quick from the cot he brought the vest; +The hermit took it from his hand, +And tightened round his waist the band; +Then duly dipped and bathed him there, +And muttered low his secret prayer. +To spirits and to Gods he made +Libation of the stream, and strayed +Viewing the forest deep and wide +That spread its shade on every side. +Close by the bank he saw a pair +Of curlews sporting fearless there. +But suddenly with evil mind +An outcast fowler stole behind, +And, with an aim too sure and true, +The male bird near the hermit slew. +The wretched hen in wild despair +With fluttering pinions beat the air, +And shrieked a long and bitter cry +When low on earth she saw him lie, +Her loved companion, quivering, dead, +His dear wings with his lifeblood red; +And for her golden crested mate +She mourned, and was disconsolate. + + The hermit saw the slaughtered bird, +And all his heart with ruth was stirred. +The fowler's impious deed distressed +His gentle sympathetic breast, +And while the curlew's sad cries rang +Within his ears, the hermit sang: +"No fame be thine for endless time, +Because, base outcast, of thy crime, +Whose cruel hand was fain to slay +One of this gentle pair at play!" +E'en as he spoke his bosom wrought +And laboured with the wondering thought +What was the speech his ready tongue +Had uttered when his heart was wrung. +He pondered long upon the speech, +Recalled the words and measured each, +And thus exclaimed the saintly guide +To Bharadvája by his side: +"With equal lines of even feet, +With rhythm and time and tone complete, +The measured form of words I spoke +In shock of grief be termed a sloke."(46) +And Bharadvája, nothing slow +His faithful love and zeal to show, +Answered those words of wisdom, "Be +The name, my lord, as pleases thee." + + As rules prescribe the hermit took +Some lustral water from the brook. +But still on this his constant thought +Kept brooding, as his home he sought; +While Bharadvája paced behind, +A pupil sage of lowly mind, +And in his hand a pitcher bore +With pure fresh water brimming o'er. +Soon as they reached their calm retreat +The holy hermit took his seat; +His mind from worldly cares recalled, +And mused in deepest thought enthralled. + + Then glorious Brahmá,(47) Lord Most High, +Creator of the earth and sky, +The four-faced God, to meet the sage +Came to Válmíki's hermitage. +Soon as the mighty God he saw, +Up sprang the saint in wondering awe. +Mute, with clasped hands, his head he bent, +And stood before him reverent. +His honoured guest he greeted well, +Who bade him of his welfare tell; +Gave water for his blessed feet, +Brought offerings,(48) and prepared a seat. +In honoured place the God Most High +Sate down, and bade the saint sit nigh. +There sate before Válmíki's eyes +The Father of the earth and skies; +But still the hermit's thoughts were bent +On one thing only, all intent +On that poor curlew's mournful fate +Lamenting for her slaughtered mate; +And still his lips, in absent mood, +The verse that told his grief, renewed: +"Woe to the fowler's impious hand +That did the deed that folly planned; +That could to needless death devote +The curlew of the tuneful throat!" + + The heavenly Father smiled in glee, +And said, "O best of hermits, see, +A verse, unconscious, thou hast made; +No longer be the task delayed. +Seek not to trace, with labour vain, +The unpremeditated strain. +The tuneful lines thy lips rehearsed +Spontaneous from thy bosom burst. +Then come, O best of seers, relate +The life of Ráma good and great, +The tale that saintly Nárad told, +In all its glorious length unfold. +Of all the deeds his arm has done +Upon this earth, omit not one, +And thus the noble life record +Of that wise, brave, and virtuous lord. +His every act to day displayed, +His secret life to none betrayed: +How Lakshman, how the giants fought; +With high emprise and hidden thought: +And all that Janak's child(49) befell +Where all could see, where none could tell. +The whole of this shall truly be +Made known, O best of saints, to thee. +In all thy poem, through my grace, +No word of falsehood shall have place. +Begin the story, and rehearse +The tale divine in charming verse. +As long as in this firm-set land +The streams shall flow, the mountains stand, +So long throughout the world, be sure, +The great Rámáyan shall endure.(50) +While the Rámáyan's ancient strain +Shall glorious in the earth remain, +To higher spheres shalt thou arise +And dwell with me above the skies." + + He spoke, and vanished into air, +And left Válmíki wondering there. +The pupils of the holy man, +Moved by their love of him, began +To chant that verse, and ever more +They marvelled as they sang it o'er: +"Behold, the four-lined balanced rime, +Repeated over many a time, +In words that from the hermit broke +In shock of grief, becomes a sloke." +This measure now Válmíki chose +Wherein his story to compose. +In hundreds of such verses, sweet +With equal lines and even feet, +The saintly poet, lofty-souled, +The glorious deeds of Ráma told. + + + + +Canto III. The Argument. + + +The hermit thus with watchful heed +Received the poem's pregnant seed, +And looked with eager thought around +If fuller knowledge might be found. +His lips with water first bedewed,(51) +He sate, in reverent attitude +On holy grass,(52) the points all bent +Together toward the orient;(53) +And thus in meditation he +Entered the path of poesy. +Then clearly, through his virtue's might, +All lay discovered to his sight, +Whate'er befell, through all their life, +Ráma, his brother, and his wife: +And Dasaratha and each queen +At every time, in every scene: +His people too, of every sort; +The nobles of his princely court: +Whate'er was said, whate'er decreed, +Each time they sate each plan and deed: +For holy thought and fervent rite +Had so refined his keener sight +That by his sanctity his view +The present, past, and future knew, +And he with mental eye could grasp, +Like fruit within his fingers clasp, +The life of Ráma, great and good, +Roaming with Sítá in the wood. +He told, with secret-piercing eyes, +The tale of Ráma's high emprise, +Each listening ear that shall entice, +A sea of pearls of highest price. +Thus good Válmíki, sage divine, +Rehearsed the tale of Raghu's line, +As Nárad, heavenly saint, before +Had traced the story's outline o'er. +He sang of Ráma's princely birth, +His kindness and heroic worth; +His love for all, his patient youth, +His gentleness and constant truth, +And many a tale and legend old +By holy Visvámitra told. +How Janak's child he wooed and won, +And broke the bow that bent to none. +How he with every virtue fraught +His namesake Ráma(54) met and fought. +The choice of Ráma for the throne; +The malice by Kaikeyí shown, +Whose evil counsel marred the plan +And drove him forth a banisht man. +How the king grieved and groaned, and cried, +And swooned away and pining died. +The subjects' woe when thus bereft; +And how the following crowds he left: +With Guha talked, and firmly stern +Ordered his driver to return. +How Gangá's farther shore he gained; +By Bharadvája entertained, +By whose advice he journeyed still +And came to Chitrakúta's hill. +How there he dwelt and built a cot; +How Bharat journeyed to the spot; +His earnest supplication made; +Drink-offerings to their father paid; +The sandals given by Ráma's hand, +As emblems of his right, to stand: +How from his presence Bharat went +And years in Nandigráma spent. +How Ráma entered Dandak wood +And in Sutíkhna's presence stood. +The favour Anasúyá showed, +The wondrous balsam she bestowed. +How Sarabhanga's dwelling-place +They sought; saw Indra face to face; +The meeting with Agastya gained; +The heavenly bow from him obtained. +How Ráma with Virádha met; +Their home in Panchavata set. +How Súrpanakhá underwent +The mockery and disfigurement. +Of Trisirá's and Khara's fall, +Of Rávan roused at vengeance call, +Márícha doomed, without escape; +The fair Videhan(55) lady's rape. +How Ráma wept and raved in vain, +And how the Vulture-king was slain. +How Ráma fierce Kabandha slew; +Then to the side of Pampá drew, +Met Hanumán, and her whose vows +Were kept beneath the greenwood boughs. +How Raghu's son, the lofty-souled, +On Pampá's bank wept uncontrolled, +Then journeyed, Rishyamúk to reach, +And of Sugríva then had speech. +The friendship made, which both had sought: +How Báli and Sugríva fought. +How Báli in the strife was slain, +And how Sugríva came to reign. +The treaty, Tára's wild lament; +The rainy nights in watching spent. +The wrath of Raghu's lion son; +The gathering of the hosts in one. +The sending of the spies about, +And all the regions pointed out. +The ring by Ráma's hand bestowed; +The cave wherein the bear abode. +The fast proposed, their lives to end; +Sampati gained to be their friend. +The scaling of the hill, the leap +Of Hanumán across the deep. +Ocean's command that bade them seek +Maináka of the lofty peak. +The death of Sinhiká, the sight +Of Lanká with her palace bright +How Hanumán stole in at eve; +His plan the giants to deceive. +How through the square he made his way +To chambers where the women lay, +Within the Asoka garden came +And there found Ráma's captive dame. +His colloquy with her he sought, +And giving of the ring he brought. +How Sítá gave a gem o'erjoyed; +How Hanumán the grove destroyed. +How giantesses trembling fled, +And servant fiends were smitten dead. +How Hanumán was seized; their ire +When Lanká blazed with hostile fire. +His leap across the sea once more; +The eating of the honey store. +How Ráma he consoled, and how +He showed the gem from Sítá's brow. +With Ocean, Ráma's interview; +The bridge that Nala o'er it threw. +The crossing, and the sitting down +At night round Lanká's royal town. +The treaty with Vibhíshan made: +The plan for Rávan's slaughter laid. +How Kumbhakarna in his pride +And Meghanáda fought and died. +How Rávan in the fight was slain, +And captive Sítá brought again. +Vibhíshan set upon the throne; +The flying chariot Pushpak shown. +How Brahmá and the Gods appeared, +And Sítá's doubted honour cleared. +How in the flying car they rode +To Bharadvája's cabin abode. +The Wind-God's son sent on afar; +How Bharat met the flying car. +How Ráma then was king ordained; +The legions their discharge obtained. +How Ráma cast his queen away; +How grew the people's love each day. +Thus did the saint Válmíki tell +Whate'er in Ráma's life befell, +And in the closing verses all +That yet to come will once befall. + + + + +Canto IV. The Rhapsodists. + + +When to the end the tale was brought, +Rose in the sage's mind the thought; +"Now who throughout this earth will go, +And tell it forth that all may know?" +As thus he mused with anxious breast, +Behold, in hermit's raiment dressed, +Kusá and Lava(56) came to greet +Their master and embrace his feet. +The twins he saw, that princely pair +Sweet-voiced, who dwelt beside him there +None for the task could be more fit, +For skilled were they in Holy Writ; +And so the great Rámáyan, fraught +With lore divine, to these he taught: +The lay whose verses sweet and clear +Take with delight the listening ear, +That tell of Sítá's noble life +And Rávan's fall in battle strife. +Great joy to all who hear they bring, +Sweet to recite and sweet to sing. +For music's sevenfold notes are there, +And triple measure,(57) wrought with care +With melody and tone and time, +And flavours(58) that enhance the rime; +Heroic might has ample place, +And loathing of the false and base, +With anger, mirth, and terror, blent +With tenderness, surprise, content. +When, half the hermit's grace to gain, +And half because they loved the strain, +The youth within their hearts had stored +The poem that his lips outpoured, +Válmíki kissed them on the head, +As at his feet they bowed, and said; +"Recite ye this heroic song +In tranquil shades where sages throng: +Recite it where the good resort, +In lowly home and royal court." + + The hermit ceased. The tuneful pair, +Like heavenly minstrels sweet and fair, +In music's art divinely skilled, +Their saintly master's word fulfilled. +Like Ráma's self, from whom they came, +They showed their sire in face and frame, +As though from some fair sculptured stone +Two selfsame images had grown. +Sometimes the pair rose up to sing, +Surrounded by a holy ring, +Where seated on the grass had met +Full many a musing anchoret. +Then tears bedimmed those gentle eyes, +As transport took them and surprise, +And as they listened every one +Cried in delight, Well done! Well done! +Those sages versed in holy lore +Praised the sweet minstrels more and more: +And wondered at the singers' skill, +And the bard's verses sweeter still, +Which laid so clear before the eye +The glorious deeds of days gone by. +Thus by the virtuous hermits praised, +Inspirited their voice they raised. +Pleased with the song this holy man +Would give the youths a water-can; +One gave a fair ascetic dress, +Or sweet fruit from the wilderness. +One saint a black-deer's hide would bring, +And one a sacrificial string: +One, a clay pitcher from his hoard, +And one, a twisted munja cord.(59) +One in his joy an axe would find, +One braid, their plaited locks to bind. +One gave a sacrificial cup, +One rope to tie their fagots up; +While fuel at their feet was laid, +Or hermit's stool of fig-tree made. +All gave, or if they gave not, none +Forgot at least a benison. +Some saints, delighted with their lays, +Would promise health and length of days; +Others with surest words would add +Some boon to make their spirit glad. +In such degree of honour then +That song was held by holy men: +That living song which life can give, +By which shall many a minstrel live. +In seat of kings, in crowded hall, +They sang the poem, praised of all. +And Ráma chanced to hear their lay, +While he the votive steed(60) would slay, +And sent fit messengers to bring +The minstrel pair before the king. +They came, and found the monarch high +Enthroned in gold, his brothers nigh; +While many a minister below, +And noble, sate in lengthened row. +The youthful pair awhile he viewed +Graceful in modest attitude, +And then in words like these addressed +His brother Lakshman and the rest: +"Come, listen to the wondrous strain +Recited by these godlike twain, +Sweet singers of a story fraught +With melody and lofty thought." + + The pair, with voices sweet and strong, +Rolled the full tide of noble song, +With tone and accent deftly blent +To suit the changing argument. +Mid that assembly loud and clear +Rang forth that lay so sweet to hear, +That universal rapture stole +Through each man's frame and heart and soul. +"These minstrels, blest with every sign +That marks a high and princely line, + In holy shades who dwell, +Enshrined in Saint Válmíki's lay, +A monument to live for aye, + My deeds in song shall tell." +Thus Ráma spoke: their breasts were fired, +And the great tale, as if inspired, + The youths began to sing, +While every heart with transport swelled, +And mute and rapt attention held + The concourse and the king. + + + + +Canto V. Ayodhyá. + + + "Ikshváku's sons from days of old +Were ever brave and mighty-souled. +The land their arms had made their own +Was bounded by the sea alone. +Their holy works have won them praise, +Through countless years, from Manu's days. +Their ancient sire was Sagar, he +Whose high command dug out the sea:(61) +With sixty thousand sons to throng +Around him as he marched along. +From them this glorious tale proceeds: +The great Rámáyan tells their deeds. +This noble song whose lines contain +Lessons of duty, love, and gain, +We two will now at length recite, +While good men listen with delight. + + On Sarjú's(62) bank, of ample size, +The happy realm of Kosal lies, +With fertile length of fair champaign +And flocks and herds and wealth of grain. +There, famous in her old renown, +Ayodhyá(63) stands, the royal town, +In bygone ages built and planned +By sainted Manu's(64) princely hand. +Imperial seat! her walls extend +Twelve measured leagues from end to end, +And three in width from side to side, +With square and palace beautified. +Her gates at even distance stand; +Her ample roads are wisely planned. +Right glorious is her royal street +Where streams allay the dust and heat. +On level ground in even row +Her houses rise in goodly show: +Terrace and palace, arch and gate +The queenly city decorate. +High are her ramparts, strong and vast, +By ways at even distance passed, +With circling moat, both deep and wide, +And store of weapons fortified. + + King Dasaratha, lofty-souled, +That city guarded and controlled, +With towering Sál trees belted round,(65) +And many a grove and pleasure ground, +As royal Indra, throned on high, +Rules his fair city in the sky.(66) +She seems a painted city, fair +With chess-board line and even square.(67) +And cool boughs shade the lovely lake +Where weary men their thirst may slake. +There gilded chariots gleam and shine, +And stately piles the Gods enshrine. +There gay sleek people ever throng +To festival and dance and song. +A mine is she of gems and sheen, +The darling home of Fortune's Queen. +With noblest sort of drink and meat, +The fairest rice and golden wheat, +And fragrant with the chaplet's scent +With holy oil and incense blent. +With many an elephant and steed, +And wains for draught and cars for speed. +With envoys sent by distant kings, +And merchants with their precious things +With banners o'er her roofs that play, +And weapons that a hundred slay;(68) +All warlike engines framed by man, +And every class of artisan. +A city rich beyond compare +With bards and minstrels gathered there, +And men and damsels who entrance +The soul with play and song and dance. +In every street is heard the lute, +The drum, the tabret, and the flute, +The Veda chanted soft and low, +The ringing of the archer's bow; +With bands of godlike heroes skilled +In every warlike weapon, filled, +And kept by warriors from the foe, +As Nágas guard their home below.(69) +There wisest Bráhmans evermore + The flame of worship feed, +And versed in all the Vedas' lore, + Their lives of virtue lead. +Truthful and pure, they freely give; + They keep each sense controlled, +And in their holy fervour live + Like the great saints of old. + + + + +Canto VI. The King. + + +There reigned a king of name revered, +To country and to town endeared, +Great Dasaratha, good and sage, +Well read in Scripture's holy page: +Upon his kingdom's weal intent, +Mighty and brave and provident; +The pride of old Ikshváku's seed +For lofty thought and righteous deed. +Peer of the saints, for virtues famed, +For foes subdued and passions tamed: +A rival in his wealth untold +Of Indra and the Lord of Gold. +Like Manu first of kings, he reigned, +And worthily his state maintained. +For firm and just and ever true +Love, duty, gain he kept in view, +And ruled his city rich and free, +Like Indra's Amarávatí. +And worthy of so fair a place +There dwelt a just and happy race + With troops of children blest. +Each man contented sought no more, +Nor longed with envy for the store + By richer friends possessed. +For poverty was there unknown, +And each man counted as his own + Kine, steeds, and gold, and grain. +All dressed in raiment bright and clean, +And every townsman might be seen + With earrings, wreath, or chain. +None deigned to feed on broken fare, +And none was false or stingy there. +A piece of gold, the smallest pay, +Was earned by labour for a day. +On every arm were bracelets worn, +And none was faithless or forsworn, + A braggart or unkind. +None lived upon another's wealth, +None pined with dread or broken health, + Or dark disease of mind. +High-souled were all. The slanderous word, +The boastful lie, were never heard. +Each man was constant to his vows, +And lived devoted to his spouse. +No other love his fancy knew, +And she was tender, kind, and true. +Her dames were fair of form and face, +With charm of wit and gentle grace, +With modest raiment simply neat, +And winning manners soft and sweet. +The twice-born sages, whose delight +Was Scripture's page and holy rite, +Their calm and settled course pursued, +Nor sought the menial multitude. +In many a Scripture each was versed, +And each the flame of worship nursed, + And gave with lavish hand. +Each paid to Heaven the offerings due, +And none was godless or untrue + In all that holy band. +To Bráhmans, as the laws ordain, +The Warrior caste were ever fain + The reverence due to pay; +And these the Vaisyas' peaceful crowd, +Who trade and toil for gain, were proud + To honour and obey; +And all were by the Súdras(70) served, +Who never from their duty swerved, +Their proper worship all addressed +To Bráhman, spirits, God, and guest. +Pure and unmixt their rites remained, +Their race's honour ne'er was stained.(71) +Cheered by his grandsons, sons, and wife, +Each passed a long and happy life. +Thus was that famous city held +By one who all his race excelled, + Blest in his gentle reign, +As the whole land aforetime swayed +By Manu, prince of men, obeyed + Her king from main to main. +And heroes kept her, strong and brave, +As lions guard their mountain cave: +Fierce as devouring flame they burned, +And fought till death, but never turned. +Horses had she of noblest breed, +Like Indra's for their form and speed, +From Váhlí's(72) hills and Sindhu's(73) sand, +Vanáyu(74) and Kámboja's land.(75) +Her noble elephants had strayed +Through Vindhyan and Himálayan shade, +Gigantic in their bulk and height, +Yet gentle in their matchless might. +They rivalled well the world-spread fame +Of the great stock from which they came, + Of Váman, vast of size, +Of Mahápadma's glorious line, +Thine, Anjan, and, Airávat, thine.(76) + Upholders of the skies. +With those, enrolled in fourfold class, +Who all their mighty kin surpass, + Whom men Matangas name, +And Mrigas spotted black and white, +And Bhadras of unwearied might, +And Mandras hard to tame.(77) +Thus, worthy of the name she bore,(78) +Ayodhyá for a league or more + Cast a bright glory round, +Where Dasaratha wise and great +Governed his fair ancestral state, + With every virtue crowned. +Like Indra in the skies he reigned +In that good town whose wall contained + High domes and turrets proud, +With gates and arcs of triumph decked, +And sturdy barriers to protect + Her gay and countless crowd. + + + + +Canto VII. The Ministers. + + +Two sages, holy saints, had he, +His ministers and priests to be: +Vasishtha, faithful to advise, +And Vámadeva, Scripture-wise. +Eight other lords around him stood, +All skilled to counsel, wise and good: +Jayanta, Vijay, Dhrishti bold +In fight, affairs of war controlled: +Siddhárth and Arthasádhak true +Watched o'er expense and revenue, +And Dharmapál and wise Asok +Of right and law and justice spoke. +With these the sage Sumantra, skilled +To urge the car, high station filled. + All these in knowledge duly trained +Each passion and each sense restrained: +With modest manners, nobly bred +Each plan and nod and look they read, +Upon their neighbours' good intent, +Most active and benevolent: +As sit the Vasus(79) round their king, +They sate around him counselling. +They ne'er in virtue's loftier pride +Another's lowly gifts decried. +In fair and seemly garb arrayed, +No weak uncertain plans they made. +Well skilled in business, fair and just, +They gained the people's love and trust, +And thus without oppression stored +The swelling treasury of their lord. +Bound in sweet friendship each to each, +They spoke kind thoughts in gentle speech. +They looked alike with equal eye +On every caste, on low and high. +Devoted to their king, they sought, +Ere his tongue spoke, to learn his thought, +And knew, as each occasion rose, +To hide their counsel or disclose. +In foreign lands or in their own +Whatever passed, to them was known. +By secret spies they timely knew +What men were doing or would do. +Skilled in the grounds of war and peace +They saw the monarch's state increase, +Watching his weal with conquering eye +That never let occasion by, +While nature lent her aid to bless +Their labours with unbought success. +Never for anger, lust, or gain, +Would they their lips with falsehood stain. +Inclined to mercy they could scan +The weakness and the strength of man. +They fairly judged both high and low, +And ne'er would wrong a guiltless foe; +Yet if a fault were proved, each one +Would punish e'en his own dear son. +But there and in the kingdom's bound +No thief or man impure was found: +None of loose life or evil fame, +No tempter of another's dame. +Contented with their lot each caste +Calm days in blissful quiet passed; +And, all in fitting tasks employed, +Country and town deep rest enjoyed, +With these wise lords around his throne + The monarch justly reigned, +And making every heart his own + The love of all men gained. +With trusty agents, as beseems, + Each distant realm he scanned, +As the sun visits with his beams + Each corner of the land. +Ne'er would he on a mightier foe + With hostile troops advance, +Nor at an equal strike a blow + In war's delusive chance. +These lords in council bore their part +With ready brain and faithful heart, +With skill and knowledge, sense and tact, +Good to advise and bold to act. +And high and endless fame he won + With these to guide his schemes, +As, risen in his might, the sun + Wins glory with his beams. + + + + +Canto VIII. Sumantra's Speech. + + +But splendid, just, and great of mind, +The childless king for offspring pined. +No son had he his name to grace, +Transmitter of his royal race. +Long had his anxious bosom wrought, +And as he pondered rose the thought: +"A votive steed 'twere good to slay, +So might a son the gift repay." +Before his lords his plan he laid, +And bade them with their wisdom aid: +Then with these words Sumantra, best +Of royal counsellors, addressed: +"Hither, Vasishtha at their head, +Let all my priestly guides be led." + To him Sumantra made reply: +"Hear, Sire, a tale of days gone by. +To many a sage in time of old, +Sanatkumár, the saint, foretold +How from thine ancient line, O King, +A son, when years came round, should spring. +"Here dwells," 'twas thus the seer began, +"Of Kasyap's(80) race, a holy man, +Vibhándak named: to him shall spring +A son, the famous Rishyasring. +Bred with the deer that round him roam, +The wood shall be that hermit's home. +To him no mortal shall be known +Except his holy sire alone. +Still by those laws shall he abide +Which lives of youthful Bráhmans guide, +Obedient to the strictest rule +That forms the young ascetic's school: +And all the wondering world shall hear +Of his stern life and penance drear; +His care to nurse the holy fire +And do the bidding of his sire. +Then, seated on the Angas'(81) throne, +Shall Lomapád to fame be known. +But folly wrought by that great king +A plague upon the land shall bring; +No rain for many a year shall fall +And grievous drought shall ruin all. +The troubled king with many a prayer +Shall bid the priests some cure declare: +"The lore of Heaven 'tis yours to know, +Nor are ye blind to things below: +Declare, O holy men, the way +This plague to expiate and stay." +Those best of Bráhmans shall reply: +"By every art, O Monarch, try +Hither to bring Vibhándak's child, +Persuaded, captured, or beguiled. +And when the boy is hither led +To him thy daughter duly wed." + + But how to bring that wondrous boy +His troubled thoughts will long employ, +And hopeless to achieve the task +He counsel of his lords will ask, +And bid his priests and servants bring +With honour saintly Rishyasring. +But when they hear the monarch's speech, +All these their master will beseech, +With trembling hearts and looks of woe, +To spare them, for they fear to go. +And many a plan will they declare + And crafty plots will frame, +And promise fair to show him there, + Unforced, with none to blame. +On every word his lords shall say, + The king will meditate, +And on the third returning day + Recall them to debate. +Then this shall be the plan agreed, + That damsels shall be sent +Attired in holy hermits' weed, + And skilled in blandishment, +That they the hermit may beguile +With every art and amorous wile +Whose use they know so well, +And by their witcheries seduce +The unsuspecting young recluse + To leave his father's cell. +Then when the boy with willing feet +Shall wander from his calm retreat + And in that city stand, +The troubles of the king shall end, +And streams of blessed rain descend + Upon the thirsty land. +Thus shall the holy Rishyasring +To Lomapád, the mighty king, + By wedlock be allied; +For Sántá, fairest of the fair, +In mind and grace beyond compare, + Shall be his royal bride. +He, at the Offering of the Steed, +The flames with holy oil shall feed, +And for King Dasaratha gain +Sons whom his prayers have begged in vain." +"I have repeated, Sire, thus far, +The words of old Sanatkumár, +In order as he spoke them then +Amid the crowd of holy men." + Then Dasaratha cried with joy, +"Say how they brought the hermit boy." + + + + +Canto IX. Rishyasring. + + +The wise Sumantra, thus addressed, +Unfolded at the king's behest +The plan the lords in council laid +To draw the hermit from the shade: +"The priest, amid the lordly crowd, +To Lomapád thus spoke aloud: +"Hear, King, the plot our thoughts have framed, +A harmless trick by all unblamed. +Far from the world that hermit's child +Lives lonely in the distant wild: +A stranger to the joys of sense, +His bliss is pain and abstinence; +And all unknown are women yet +To him, a holy anchoret. +The gentle passions we will wake +That with resistless influence shake + The hearts of men; and he +Drawn by enchantment strong and sweet +Shall follow from his lone retreat, + And come and visit thee. +Let ships be formed with utmost care +That artificial trees may bear, + And sweet fruit deftly made; +Let goodly raiment, rich and rare, +And flowers, and many a bird be there + Beneath the leafy shade. +Upon the ships thus decked a band +Of young and lovely girls shall stand, +Rich in each charm that wakes desire, +And eyes that burn with amorous fire; +Well skilled to sing, and play, and dance +And ply their trade with smile and glance +Let these, attired in hermits' dress, +Betake them to the wilderness, +And bring the boy of life austere +A voluntary captive here." + He ended; and the king agreed, + By the priest's counsel won. +And all the ministers took heed + To see his bidding done. +In ships with wondrous art prepared +Away the lovely women fared, +And soon beneath the shade they stood +Of the wild, lonely, dreary wood. +And there the leafy cot they found + Where dwelt the devotee, +And looked with eager eyes around + The hermit's son to see. +Still, of Vibhándak sore afraid, +They hid behind the creepers' shade. +But when by careful watch they knew +The elder saint was far from view, +With bolder steps they ventured nigh +To catch the youthful hermit's eye. +Then all the damsels, blithe and gay, +At various games began to play. +They tossed the flying ball about +With dance and song and merry shout, +And moved, their scented tresses bound +With wreaths, in mazy motion round. +Some girls as if by love possessed, +Sank to the earth in feigned unrest, +Up starting quickly to pursue +Their intermitted game anew. +It was a lovely sight to see + Those fair ones, as they played, +While fragrant robes were floating free, +And bracelets clashing in their glee + A pleasant tinkling made. +The anklet's chime, the Koïl's(82) cry + With music filled the place +As 'twere some city in the sky +Which heavenly minstrels grace. +With each voluptuous art they strove +To win the tenant of the grove, +And with their graceful forms inspire +His modest soul with soft desire. +With arch of brow, with beck and smile, +With every passion-waking wile +Of glance and lotus hand, +With all enticements that excite +The longing for unknown delight + Which boys in vain withstand. +Forth came the hermit's son to view +The wondrous sight to him so new, + And gazed in rapt surprise, +For from his natal hour till then +On woman or the sons of men + He ne'er had cast his eyes. +He saw them with their waists so slim, +With fairest shape and faultless limb, +In variegated robes arrayed, +And sweetly singing as they played. +Near and more near the hermit drew, + And watched them at their game, +And stronger still the impulse grew + To question whence they came. +They marked the young ascetic gaze +With curious eye and wild amaze, +And sweet the long-eyed damsels sang, +And shrill their merry laughter rang. +Then came they nearer to his side, +And languishing with passion cried: +"Whose son, O youth, and who art thou, +Come suddenly to join us now? +And why dost thou all lonely dwell +In the wild wood? We pray thee, tell, +We wish to know thee, gentle youth; +Come, tell us, if thou wilt, the truth." + He gazed upon that sight he ne'er +Had seen before, of girls so fair, +And out of love a longing rose +His sire and lineage to disclose: +"My father," thus he made reply, +"Is Kasyap's son, a saint most high, +Vibhándak styled; from him I came, +And Rishyasring he calls my name. +Our hermit cot is near this place: +Come thither, O ye fair of face; +There be it mine, with honour due, +Ye gentle youths, to welcome you." + They heard his speech, and gave consent, +And gladly to his cottage went. +Vibhándak's son received them well +Beneath the shelter of his cell +With guest-gift, water for their feet, +And woodland fruit and roots to eat, +They smiled, and spoke sweet words like these, +Delighted with his courtesies: +"We too have goodly fruit in store, +Grown on the trees that shade our door; +Come, if thou wilt, kind Hermit, haste +The produce of our grove to taste; +And let, O good Ascetic, first +This holy water quench thy thirst." +They spoke, and gave him comfits sweet +Prepared ripe fruits to counterfeit; +And many a dainty cate beside +And luscious mead their stores supplied. +The seeming fruits, in taste and look, +The unsuspecting hermit took, +For, strange to him, their form beguiled +The dweller in the lonely wild. +Then round his neck fair arms were flung, +And there the laughing damsels clung, +And pressing nearer and more near +With sweet lips whispered at his ear; +While rounded limb and swelling breast +The youthful hermit softly pressed. +The pleasing charm of that strange bowl, + The touch of a tender limb, +Over his yielding spirit stole + And sweetly vanquished him. +But vows, they said, must now be paid; + They bade the boy farewell, +And, of the aged saint afraid, + Prepared to leave the dell. +With ready guile they told him where + Their hermit dwelling lay: +Then, lest the sire should find them there, + Sped by wild paths away. +They fled and left him there alone + By longing love possessed; +And with a heart no more his own + He roamed about distressed. +The aged saint came home, to find + The hermit boy distraught, +Revolving in his troubled mind + One solitary thought. +"Why dost thou not, my son," he cried, + "Thy due obeisance pay? +Why do I see thee in the tide + Of whelming thought to-day? +A devotee should never wear + A mien so sad and strange. +Come, quickly, dearest child, declare + The reason of the change." +And Rishyasring, when questioned thus, + Made answer in this wise: +"O sire, there came to visit us + Some men with lovely eyes. +About my neck soft arms they wound + And kept me tightly held +To tender breasts so soft and round, + That strangely heaved and swelled. +They sing more sweetly as they dance + Than e'er I heard till now, +And play with many a sidelong glance + And arching of the brow." +"My son," said he, "thus giants roam + Where holy hermits are, +And wander round their peaceful home + Their rites austere to mar. +I charge thee, thou must never lay + Thy trust in them, dear boy: +They seek thee only to betray, + And woo but to destroy." +Thus having warned him of his foes + That night at home he spent. +And when the morrow's sun arose +Forth to the forest went. + But Rishyasring with eager pace +Sped forth and hurried to the place +Where he those visitants had seen +Of daintly waist and charming mien. +When from afar they saw the son +Of Saint Vibhándak toward them run, +To meet the hermit boy they hied, +And hailed him with a smile, and cried: +"O come, we pray, dear lord, behold +Our lovely home of which we told +Due honour there to thee we'll pay, +And speed thee on thy homeward way." +Pleased with the gracious words they said +He followed where the damsels led. +As with his guides his steps he bent, + That Bráhman high of worth, +A flood of rain from heaven was sent + That gladdened all the earth. + + Vibhándak took his homeward road, +And wearied by the heavy load +Of roots and woodland fruit he bore +Entered at last his cottage door. +Fain for his son he looked around, +But desolate the cell he found. +He stayed not then to bathe his feet, +Though fainting with the toil and heat, +But hurried forth and roamed about +Calling the boy with cry and shout, +He searched the wood, but all in vain; +Nor tidings of his son could gain. + + One day beyond the forest's bound +The wandering saint a village found, +And asked the swains and neatherds there +Who owned the land so rich and fair, +With all the hamlets of the plain, +And herds of kine and fields of grain. +They listened to the hermit's words, +And all the guardians of the herds, +With suppliant hands together pressed, +This answer to the saint addressed: +"The Angas' lord who bears the name +Of Lomapád, renowned by fame, +Bestowed these hamlets with their kine +And all their riches, as a sign +Of grace, on Rishyasring: and he +Vibhándak's son is said to be." +The hermit with exulting breast +The mighty will of fate confessed, +By meditation's eye discerned; +And cheerful to his home returned. + + A stately ship, at early morn, +The hermit's son away had borne. +Loud roared the clouds, as on he sped, +The sky grew blacker overhead; +Till, as he reached the royal town, +A mighty flood of rain came down. +By the great rain the monarch's mind +The coming of his guest divined. +To meet the honoured youth he went, +And low to earth his head he bent. +With his own priest to lead the train, +He gave the gift high guests obtain. +And sought, with all who dwelt within +The city walls, his grace to win. +He fed him with the daintiest fare, +He served him with unceasing care, +And ministered with anxious eyes +Lest anger in his breast should rise; +And gave to be the Bráhman's bride +His own fair daughter, lotus-eyed. + + Thus loved and honoured by the king, +The glorious Bráhman Rishyasring +Passed in that royal town his life +With Sántá his beloved wife." + + + + +Canto X. Rishyasring Invited. + + +"Again, O best of kings, give ear: +My saving words attentive hear, +And listen to the tale of old +By that illustrious Bráhman told. +"Of famed Ikshváku's line shall spring +('Twas thus he spoke) a pious king, +Named Dasaratha, good and great, +True to his word and fortunate. +He with the Angas' mighty lord +Shall ever live in sweet accord, +And his a daughter fair shall be, +Sántá of happy destiny. +But Lomapád, the Angas' chief, +Still pining in his childless grief, +To Dasaratha thus shall say: +"Give me thy daughter, friend, I pray, +Thy Sántá of the tranquil mind, +The noblest one of womankind." + + The father, swift to feel for woe, +Shall on his friend his child bestow; +And he shall take her and depart +To his own town with joyous heart. +The maiden home in triumph led, +To Rishyasring the king shall wed. +And he with loving joy and pride +Shall take her for his honoured bride. +And Dasaratha to a rite +That best of Bráhmans shall invite + With supplicating prayer, +To celebrate the sacrifice +To win him sons and Paradise,(83) +That he will fain prepare. +From him the lord of men at length + The boon he seeks shall gain, +And see four sons of boundless strength + His royal line maintain." +"Thus did the godlike saint of old + The will of fate declare, +And all that should befall unfold + Amid the sages there. +O Prince supreme of men, go thou, + Consult thy holy guide, +And win, to aid thee in thy vow, + This Bráhman to thy side." +Sumantra's counsel, wise and good, + King Dasaratha heard, +Then by Vasishtha's side he stood +And thus with him conferred: +"Sumantra counsels thus: do thou +My priestly guide, the plan allow." + Vasishtha gave his glad consent, +And forth the happy monarch went +With lords and servants on the road +That led to Rishyasring's abode. +Forests and rivers duly past, +He reached the distant town at last +Of Lomapád the Angas' king, +And entered it with welcoming. +On through the crowded streets he came, +And, radiant as the kindled flame, +He saw within the monarch's house +The hermit's son most glorious. +There Lomapád, with joyful breast, + To him all honour paid, +For friendship for his royal guest + His faithful bosom swayed. +Thus entertained with utmost care +Seven days, or eight, he tarried there, +And then that best of men thus broke +His purpose to the king, and spoke: +"O King of men, mine ancient friend, + (Thus Dasaratha prayed) +Thy Sántá with her husband send + My sacrifice to aid." +Said he who ruled the Angas, Yea, + And his consent was won: +And then at once he turned away + To warn the hermit's son. +He told him of their ties beyond +Their old affection's faithful bond: +"This king," he said, "from days of old +A well beloved friend I hold. +To me this pearl of dames he gave +From childless woe mine age to save, +The daughter whom he loved so much, +Moved by compassion's gentle touch. +In him thy Sántás father see: +As I am even so is he. +For sons the childless monarch yearns: +To thee alone for help he turns. +Go thou, the sacred rite ordain +To win the sons he prays to gain: +Go, with thy wife thy succour lend, +And give his vows a blissful end." + The hermit's son with quick accord +Obeyed the Angas' mighty lord, +And with fair Sántá at his side +To Dasaratha's city hied. +Each king, with suppliant hands upheld, + Gazed on the other's face: +And then by mutual love impelled + Met in a close embrace. +Then Dasaratha's thoughtful care, + Before he parted thence, +Bade trusty servants homeward bear + The glad intelligence: +"Let all the town be bright and gay + With burning incense sweet; +Let banners wave, and water lay + The dust in every street." +Glad were the citizens to learn +The tidings of their lord's return, +And through the city every man +Obediently his task began. +And fair and bright Ayodhyá showed, +As following his guest he rode +Through the full streets where shell and drum +Proclaimed aloud the king was come. +And all the people with delight + Kept gazing on their king, +Attended by that youth so bright, + The glorious Rishyasring. +When to his home the king had brought + The hermit's saintly son, +He deemed that all his task was wrought, + And all he prayed for won. +And lords who saw that stranger dame + So beautiful to view, +Rejoiced within their hearts, and came + And paid her honour too. +There Rishyasring passed blissful days, +Graced like the king with love and praise +And shone in glorious light with her, +Sweet Sántá, for his minister, +As Brahmá's son Vasishtha, he +Who wedded Saint Arundhatí.(84) + + + + +Canto XI. The Sacrifice Decreed. + + +The Dewy Season(85) came and went; + The spring returned again: +Then would the king, with mind intent, + His sacrifice ordain. +He came to Rishyasring, and bowed + To him of look divine, +And bade him aid his offering vowed + For heirs, to save his line. +Nor would the youth his aid deny: + He spake the monarch fair, +And prayed him for that rite so high + All requisites prepare. +The king to wise Sumantra cried + Who stood aye ready near; +"Go summon quick each holy guide, + To counsel and to hear." +Obedient to his lord's behest + Away Sumantra sped, +And brought Vasishtha and the rest, + In Scripture deeply read. +Suyajna, Vámadeva came, + Jávali, Kasyap's son, +And old Vasishtha, dear to fame, + Obedient every one. +King Dasaratha met them there + And duly honoured each, +And spoke in pleasant words his fair + And salutary speech: +"In childless longing doomed to pine, +No happiness, O lords, is mine. +So have I for this cause decreed +To slay the sacrificial steed. +Fain would I pay that offering high +Wherein the horse is doomed to die, +With Rishyasring his aid to lend, +And with your glory to befriend." + With loud applause each holy man +Received his speech, approved the plan, +And, by the wise Vasishtha led, +Gave praises to the king, and said: +"The sons thou cravest shalt thou see, +Of fairest glory, born to thee, +Whose holy feelings bid thee take +This righteous course for offspring's sake." +Cheered by the ready praise of those +Whose aid he sought, his spirits rose, +And thus the king his speech renewed +With looks of joy and gratitude: +"Let what the coming rites require +Be ready as the priests desire, +And let the horse, ordained to bleed, +With fitting guard and priest, be freed,(86) +Yonder on Sarjú's northern side +The sacrificial ground provide; +And let the saving rites, that naught +Ill-omened may occur, be wrought. +The offering I announce to-day +Each lord of earth may claim to pay, +Provided that his care can guard +The holy rite by flaws unmarred. +For wandering fiends, whose watchful spite +Waits eagerly to spoil each rite, +Hunting with keenest eye detect +The slightest slip, the least neglect; +And when the sacred work is crossed +The workman is that moment lost. +Let preparation due be made: + Your powers the charge can meet: +That so the noble rite be paid + In every point complete." +And all the Bráhmans answered, Yea, + His mandate honouring, +And gladly promised to obey + The order of the king. +They cried with voices raised aloud: + "Success attend thine aim!" +Then bade farewell, and lowly bowed, + And hastened whence they came. +King Dasaratha went within, + His well loved wives to see: +And said: "Your lustral rites begin, + For these shall prosper me. +A glorious offering I prepare +That precious fruit of sons may bear." +Their lily faces brightened fast + Those pleasant words to hear, +As lilies, when the winter's past, +In lovelier hues appear. + + + + +Canto XII. The Sacrifice Begun. + + +Again the spring with genial heat +Returning made the year complete. +To win him sons, without delay +His vow the king resolved to pay: +And to Vasishtha, saintly man, +In modest words this speech began: +"Prepare the rite with all things fit +As is ordained in Holy Writ, +And keep with utmost care afar +Whate'er its sacred forms might mar. +Thou art, my lord, my trustiest guide, +Kind-hearted, and my friend beside; +So is it meet thou undertake +This heavy task for duty's sake." + Then he, of twice-born men the best, +His glad assent at once expressed: +"Fain will I do whate'er may be +Desired, O honoured King, by thee." +To ancient priests he spoke, who, trained +In holy rites, deep skill had gained: +"Here guards be stationed, good and sage +Religious men of trusted age. +And various workmen send and call, +Who frame the door and build the wall: +With men of every art and trade, +Who read the stars and ply the spade, +And mimes and minstrels hither bring, +And damsels trained to dance and sing." + Then to the learned men he said, +In many a page of Scripture read: +"Be yours each rite performed to see +According to the king's decree. +And stranger Bráhmans quickly call +To this great rite that welcomes all. +Pavilions for the princes, decked +With art and ornament, erect, +And handsome booths by thousands made +The Bráhman visitors to shade, +Arranged in order side by side, +With meat and drink and all supplied. +And ample stables we shall need +For many an elephant and steed: +And chambers where the men may lie, +And vast apartments, broad and high, +Fit to receive the countless bands +Of warriors come from distant lands. +For our own people too provide +Sufficient tents, extended wide, +And stores of meat and drink prepare, +And all that can be needed there. +And food in plenty must be found +For guests from all the country round. +Of various viands presents make, +For honour, not for pity's sake, +That fit regard and worship be +Paid to each caste in due degree. +And let not wish or wrath excite +Your hearts the meanest guest to slight; +But still observe with special grace +Those who obtain the foremost place, +Whether for happier skill in art +Or bearing in the rite their part. +Do you, I pray, with friendly mind +Perform the task to you assigned, +And work the rite, as bids the law, +Without omission, slip, or flaw" + They answered: "As thou seest fit +So will we do and naught omit." +The sage Vasistha then addressed +Sumantra called at his behest: +"The princes of the earth invite, +And famous lords who guard the rite, +Priest, Warrior, Merchant, lowly thrall, +In countless thousands summon all. +Where'er their home be, far or near, +Gather the good with honour here, +And Janak, whose imperial sway +The men of Míthilá(87) obey. +The firm of vow, the dread of foes, +Who all the lore of Scripture knows, +Invite him here with honour high, +King Dasaratha's old ally. +And Kási's(88) lord of gentle speech, +Who finds a pleasant word for each, +In length of days our monarch's peer, +Illustrious king, invite him here. +The father of our ruler's bride, +Known for his virtues far and wide, +The king whom Kekaya's(89) realms obey, +Him with his son invite, I pray. +And Lomapád the Angas' king, +True to his vows and godlike, bring. +For be thine invitations sent +To west and south and orient. +Call those who rule Suráshtra's(90) land, +Suvíra's(91) realm and Sindhu's strand, +And all the kings of earth beside +In friendship's bonds with us allied: +Invite them all to hasten in +With retinue and kith and kin." + Vasishtha's speech without delay +Sumantra bent him to obey. +And sent his trusty envoys forth +Eastward and westward, south and north. +Obedient to the saint's request +Himself he hurried forth, and pressed +Each nobler chief and lord and king +To hasten to the gathering. +Before the saint Vasishtha stood +All those who wrought with stone and wood, +And showed the work which every one +In furtherance of the rite had done, +Rejoiced their ready zeal to see, +Thus to the craftsmen all said he: +"I charge ye, masters, see to this, +That there be nothing done amiss, +And this, I pray, in mind be borne, +That not one gift ye give in scorn: +Whenever scorn a gift attends +Great sin is his who thus offends." + And now some days and nights had past, +And kings began to gather fast, +And precious gems in liberal store +As gifts to Dasaratha bore. +Then joy thrilled through Vasishtha's breast +As thus the monarch he addressed: +"Obedient to thy high decree +The kings, my lord, are come to thee. +And it has been my care to greet +And honour all with reverence meet. +Thy servants' task is ended quite, +And all is ready for the rite. +Come forth then to the sacred ground +Where all in order will be found." +Then Rishyasring confirmed the tale: +Nor did their words to move him fail. +The stars propitious influence lent +When forth the world's great ruler went. + Then by the sage Vasishtha led + The priest begun to speed + Those glorious rites wherein is shed + The lifeblood of the steed. + + + + +Canto XIII. The Sacrifice Finished. + + +The circling year had filled its course, +And back was brought the wandering horse: +Then upon Sarjú's northern strand +Began the rite the king had planned. +With Rishyasring the forms to guide, +The Bráhmans to their task applied, +At that great offering of the steed +Their lofty-minded king decreed. +The priests, who all the Scripture knew, +Performed their part in order due, +And circled round in solemn train +As precepts of the law ordain. +Pravargya rites(92) were duly sped: +For Upasads(93) the flames were fed. +Then from the plant(94) the juice was squeezed, +And those high saints with minds well pleased +Performed the mystic rites begun +With bathing ere the rise of sun +They gave the portion Indra's claim, +And hymned the King whom none can blame. +The mid-day bathing followed next, +Observed as bids the holy text. +Then the good priests with utmost care, +In form that Scripture's rules declare, +For the third time pure water shed +On high souled Dasaratha's head. +Then Rishyasring and all the rest +To Indra and the Gods addressed +Their sweet-toned hymn of praise and prayer, +And called them in the rite to share. +With sweetest song and hymn entoned +They gave the Gods in heaven enthroned, +As duty bids, the gifts they claim, +The holy oil that feeds the flame. +And many an offering there was paid, +And not one slip in all was made. +For with most careful heed they saw +That all was done by Veda law. +None, all those days, was seen oppressed +By hunger or by toil distressed. +Why speak of human kind? No beast +Was there that lacked an ample feast. +For there was store for all who came, +For orphan child and lonely dame; +The old and young were well supplied, +The poor and hungry satisfied. +Throughout the day ascetics fed, +And those who roam to beg their bread: +While all around the cry was still, +"Give forth, give forth," and "Eat your fill." +"Give forth with liberal hand the meal, +And various robes in largess deal." +Urged by these cries on every side +Unweariedly their task they plied: +And heaps of food like hills in size +In boundless plenty met the eyes: +And lakes of sauce, each day renewed, +Refreshed the weary multitude. +And strangers there from distant lands, +And women folk in crowded bands +The best of food and drink obtained +At the great rite the king ordained. +Apart from all, the Bráhmans there, +Thousands on thousands, took their share +Of various dainties sweet to taste, +On plates of gold and silver placed, +All ready set, as, when they willed, +The twice-born men their places filled. +And servants in fair garments dressed +Waited upon each Bráhman guest. +Of cheerful mind and mien were they, +With gold and jewelled earrings gay. +The best of Bráhmans praised the fare +Of countless sorts, of flavour rare: +And thus to Raghu's son they cried: +"We bless thee, and are satisfied." +Between the rites some Bráhmans spent +The time in learned argument, +With ready flow of speech, sedate, +And keen to vanquish in debate.(95) + There day by day the holy train +Performed all rites as rules ordain. +No priest in all that host was found +But kept the vows that held him bound: +None, but the holy Vedas knew, +And all their six-fold science(96) too. +No Bráhman there was found unfit +To speak with eloquence and wit. + And now the appointed time came near +The sacrificial posts to rear. +They brought them, and prepared to fix +Of Bel(97) and Khádir(98) six and six; +Six, made of the Palása(99) tree, +Of Fig-wood one, apart to be: +Of Sleshmát(100) and of Devadár(101) +One column each, the mightiest far: +So thick the two, the arms of man +Their ample girth would fail to span. +All these with utmost care were wrought +By hand of priests in Scripture taught, +And all with gold were gilded bright +To add new splendour to the rite: +Twenty-and-one those stakes in all, +Each one-and-twenty cubits tall: +And one-and-twenty ribbons there +Hung on the pillars, bright and fair. +Firm in the earth they stood at last, +Where cunning craftsmen fixed them fast; +And there unshaken each remained, +Octagonal and smoothly planed. +Then ribbons over all were hung, +And flowers and scent around them flung. +Thus decked they cast a glory forth +Like the great saints who star the north.(102) +The sacrificial altar then +Was raised by skilful twice-born men, +In shape and figure to behold +An eagle with his wings of gold, +With twice nine pits and formed three-fold +Each for some special God, beside +The pillars were the victims tied; +The birds that roam the wood, the air, +The water, and the land were there, +And snakes and things of reptile birth, +And healing herbs that spring from earth: +As texts prescribe, in Scripture found, +Three hundred victims there were bound. +The steed devoted to the host +Of Gods, the gem they honour most, +Was duly sprinkled. Then the Queen +Kausalyá, with delighted mien, +With reverent steps around him paced, +And with sweet wreaths the victim graced; +Then with three swords in order due +She smote the steed with joy, and slew. +That night the queen, a son to gain, +With calm and steady heart was fain +By the dead charger's side to stay +From evening till the break of day. +Then came three priests, their care to lead +The other queens to touch the steed, +Upon Kausalyá to attend, +Their company and aid to lend. +As by the horse she still reclined, +With happy mien and cheerful mind, +With Rishyasring the twice-born came +And praised and blessed the royal dame. +The priest who well his duty knew, +And every sense could well subdue, +From out the bony chambers freed +And boiled the marrow of the steed. +Above the steam the monarch bent, +And, as he smelt the fragrant scent, +In time and order drove afar +All error that his hopes could mar. +Then sixteen priests together came +And cast into the sacred flame +The severed members of the horse, +Made ready all in ordered course. +On piles of holy Fig-tree raised +The meaner victims' bodies blazed: +The steed, of all the creatures slain, +Alone required a pile of cane. +Three days, as is by law decreed, +Lasted that Offering of the Steed. +The Chatushtom began the rite, +And when the sun renewed his light, +The Ukthya followed: after came +The Atirátra's holy flame. +These were the rites, and many more +Arranged by light of holy lore, +The Aptoryám of mighty power, +And, each performed in proper hour, +The Abhijit and Visvajit +With every form and service fit; +And with the sacrifice at night +The Jyotishtom and Áyus rite.(103) + The task was done, as laws prescribe: +The monarch, glory of his tribe, +Bestowed the land in liberal grants +Upon the sacred ministrants. +He gave the region of the east, +His conquest, to the Hotri priest. +The west, the celebrant obtained: +The south, the priest presiding gained: +The northern region was the share +Of him who chanted forth the prayer,(104) +Thus did each priest obtain his meed +At the great Slaughter of the Steed, +Ordained, the best of all to be, +By self-existent deity. +Ikshváku's son with joyful mind +This noble fee to each assigned, +But all the priests with one accord +Addressed that unpolluted lord: +"Tis thine alone to keep the whole +Of this broad earth in firm control. +No gift of lands from thee we seek: +To guard these realms our hands were weak. +On sacred lore our days are spent: +Let other gifts our wants content." + + The chief of old Ikshváku's line +Gave them ten hundred thousand kine, +A hundred millions of fine gold, +The same in silver four times told. +But every priest in presence there +With one accord resigned his share. +To Saint Vasishtha, high of soul, +And Rishyasring they gave the whole. +That largess pleased those Bráhmans well, +Who bade the prince his wishes tell. +Then Dasaratha, mighty king, +Made answer thus to Rishyasring: +"O holy Hermit, of thy grace, +Vouchsafe the increase of my race." +He spoke; nor was his prayer denied: +The best of Bráhmans thus replied: +"Four sons, O Monarch, shall be thine, +Upholders of thy royal line." + + + + +Canto XIV. Rávan Doomed. + + + The saint, well read in holy lore, +Pondered awhile his answer o'er, +And thus again addressed the king, +His wandering thoughts regathering: +"Another rite will I begin +Which shall the sons thou cravest win, +Where all things shall be duly sped +And first Atharva texts be read." + + Then by Vibhándak's gentle son +Was that high sacrifice begun, +The king's advantage seeking still +And zealous to perform his will. +Now all the Gods had gathered there, +Each one for his allotted share: +Brahmá, the ruler of the sky, +Sthánu, Náráyan, Lord most high, +And holy Indra men might view +With Maruts(105) for his retinue; +The heavenly chorister, and saint, +And spirit pure from earthly taint, +With one accord had sought the place +The high-souled monarch's rite to grace. +Then to the Gods who came to take +Their proper share the hermit spake: +"For you has Dasaratha slain +The votive steed, a son to gain; +Stern penance-rites the king has tried, +And in firm faith on you relied, +And now with undiminished care +A second rite would fain prepare. +But, O ye Gods, consent to grant +The longing of your supplicant. +For him beseeching hands I lift, +And pray you all to grant the gift, +That four fair sons of high renown +The offerings of the king may crown." +They to the hermit's son replied: +"His longing shall be gratified. +For, Bráhman, in most high degree +We love the king and honour thee." + + These words the Gods in answer said, +And vanished thence by Indra led. +Thus to the Lord, the worlds who made, +The Immortals all assembled prayed: +"O Brahmá, mighty by thy grace, +Rávan, who rules the giant race, +Torments us in his senseless pride, +And penance-loving saints beside. +For thou well pleased in days of old +Gavest the boon that makes him bold, +That God nor demon e'er should kill +His charmed life, for so thy will. +We, honouring that high behest, +Bear all his rage though sore distressed. +That lord of giants fierce and fell +Scourges the earth and heaven and hell. +Mad with thy boon, his impious rage +Smites saint and bard and God and sage. +The sun himself withholds his glow, +The wind in fear forbears to blow; +The fire restrains his wonted heat +Where stand the dreaded Rávan's feet, +And, necklaced with the wandering wave, +The sea before him fears to rave. +Kuvera's self in sad defeat +Is driven from his blissful seat. +We see, we feel the giant's might, +And woe comes o'er us and affright. +To thee, O Lord, thy suppliants pray +To find some cure this plague to stay." + + Thus by the gathered Gods addressed +He pondered in his secret breast, +And said: "One only way I find +To slay this fiend of evil mind. +He prayed me once his life to guard +From demon, God, and heavenly bard, +And spirits of the earth and air, +And I consenting heard his prayer. +But the proud giant in his scorn +Recked not of man of woman born. +None else may take his life away, +But only man the fiend may slay." +The Gods, with Indra at their head, +Rejoiced to hear the words he said. +Then crowned with glory like a flame, +Lord Vishnu to the council came; +His hands shell, mace, and discus bore, +And saffron were the robes he wore. +Riding his eagle through the crowd, +As the sun rides upon a cloud, +With bracelets of fine gold, he came +Loud welcomed by the Gods' acclaim. +His praise they sang with one consent, +And cried, in lowly reverence bent: +"O Lord whose hand fierce Madhu(106) slew, +Be thou our refuge, firm and true; +Friend of the suffering worlds art thou, +We pray thee help thy suppliants now." +Then Vishnu spake: "Ye Gods, declare, +What may I do to grant your prayer?" + + "King Dasaratha," thus cried they, +"Fervent in penance many a day, +The sacrificial steed has slain, +Longing for sons, but all in vain. +Now, at the cry of us forlorn, +Incarnate as his seed be born. +Three queens has he: each lovely dame +Like Beauty, Modesty, or Fame. +Divide thyself in four, and be +His offspring by these noble three. +Man's nature take, and slay in fight +Rávan who laughs at heavenly might: +This common scourge, this rankling thorn +Whom the three worlds too long have borne +For Rávan in the senseless pride +Of might unequalled has defied +The host of heaven, and plagues with woe +Angel and bard and saint below, +Crushing each spirit and each maid +Who plays in Nandan's(107) heavenly shade. +O conquering Lord, to thee we bow; +Our surest hope and trust art thou. +Regard the world of men below, +And slay the Gods' tremendous foe." + + When thus the suppliant Gods had prayed, +His wise reply Náráyan(108) made: +"What task demands my presence there, +And whence this dread, ye Gods declare." + + The Gods replied: "We fear, O Lord, +Fierce Rávan, ravener abhorred. +Be thine the glorious task, we pray, +In human form this fiend to slay. +By thee of all the Blest alone +This sinner may be overthrown. +He gained by penance long and dire +The favour of the mighty Sire. +Then He who every gift bestows +Guarded the fiend from heavenly foes, +And gave a pledge his life that kept +From all things living, man except. +On him thus armed no other foe +Than man may deal the deadly blow. +Assume, O King, a mortal birth, +And strike the demon to the earth." + + Then Vishnu, God of Gods, the Lord +Supreme by all the worlds adored, +To Brahmá and the suppliants spake: +"Dismiss your fear: for your dear sake +In battle will I smite him dead, +The cruel fiend, the Immortal's dread. +And lords and ministers and all +His kith and kin with him shall fall. +Then, in the world of mortal men, +Ten thousand years and hundreds ten +I as a human king will reign, +And guard the earth as my domain." + + God, saint, and nymph, and minstrel throng +With heavenly voices raised their song +In hymns of triumph to the God +Whose conquering feet on Madhu trod: + "Champion of Gods, as man appear, + This cruel Rávan slay, + The thorn that saints and hermits fear, + The plague that none can stay. + In savage fury uncontrolled + His pride for ever grows: + He dares the Lord of Gods to hold + Among his deadly foes." + + + + +Canto XV. The Nectar. + + +When wisest Vishnu thus had given +His promise to the Gods of heaven, +He pondered in his secret mind +A suited place of birth to find, +Then he decreed, the lotus-eyed, +In four his being to divide, +And Dasaratha, gracious king, +He chose as sire from whom to spring. +That childless prince of high renown, +Who smote in war his foemen down, +At that same time with utmost care +Prepared the rite that wins an heir.(109) +Then Vishnu, fain on earth to dwell, +Bade the Almighty Sire farewell, +And vanished while a reverent crowd +Of Gods and saints in worship bowed. + + The monarch watched the sacred rite, +When a vast form of awful might, +Of matchless splendour, strength, and size +Was manifest before his eyes. +From forth the sacrificial flame, +Dark, robed in red, the being came. +His voice was drumlike, loud and low, +His face suffused with rosy glow. +Like a huge lion's mane appeared +The long locks of his hair and beard. +He shone with many a lucky sign, +And many an ornament divine; +A towering mountain in his height, +A tiger in his gait and might. +No precious mine more rich could be, +No burning flame more bright than he. +His arms embraced in loving hold, +Like a dear wife, a vase of gold +Whose silver lining held a draught +Of nectar as in heaven is quaffed: +A vase so vast, so bright to view, +They scarce could count the vision true. +Upon the king his eyes he bent, +And said: "The Lord of life has sent +His servant down, O Prince, to be +A messenger from heaven to thee." +The king with all his nobles by +Raised reverent hands and made reply: +"Welcome, O glorious being! Say +How can my care thy grace repay." +Envoy of Him whom all adore +Thus to the king he spake once more: +"The Gods accept thy worship: they +Give thee the blessed fruit to-day. +Approach and take, O glorious King, +This heavenly nectar which I bring, +For it shall give thee sons and wealth, +And bless thee with a store of health. +Give it to those fair queens of thine, +And bid them quaff the drink divine: +And they the princely sons shall bear +Long sought by sacrifice and prayer." + + "Yea, O my lord," the monarch said, +And took the vase upon his head, +The gift of Gods, of fine gold wrought, +With store of heavenly liquor fraught. +He honoured, filled with transport new, +That wondrous being, fair to view, +As round the envoy of the God +With reverential steps he trod.(110) +His errand done, that form of light +Arose and vanished from the sight. +High rapture filled the monarch's soul, +Possessed of that celestial bowl, +As when a man by want distressed +With unexpected wealth is blest. +And rays of transport seemed to fall +Illuminating bower and hall, +As when the autumn moon rides high, +And floods with lovely light the sky. +Quick to the ladies' bower he sped, +And thus to Queen Kausalyá said: +"This genial nectar take and quaff," +He spoke, and gave the lady half. +Part of the nectar that remained +Sumitrá from his hand obtained. +He gave, to make her fruitful too, +Kaikeyí half the residue. +A portion yet remaining there, + He paused awhile to think. +Then gave Sumitrá, with her share. + The remnant of the drink. +Thus on each queen of those fair three + A part the king bestowed, +And with sweet hope a child to see + Their yearning bosoms glowed. +The heavenly bowl the king supplied + Their longing souls relieved, +And soon, with rapture and with pride, + Each royal dame conceived. +He gazed upon each lady's face, + And triumphed as he gazed, +As Indra in his royal place + By Gods and spirits praised. + + + + +Canto XVI. The Vánars. + + +When Vishnu thus had gone on earth, +From the great king to take his birth, +The self-existent Lord of all +Addressed the Gods who heard his call: +"For Vishnu's sake, the strong and true, +Who seeks the good of all of you, +Make helps, in war to lend him aid, +In forms that change at will, arrayed, +Of wizard skill and hero might, +Outstrippers of the wind in flight, +Skilled in the arts of counsel, wise, +And Vishnu's peers in bold emprise; +With heavenly arts and prudence fraught, +By no devices to be caught; +Skilled in all weapon's lore and use +As they who drink the immortal juice.(111) +And let the nymphs supreme in grace, +And maidens of the minstrel race, +Monkeys and snakes, and those who rove +Free spirits of the hill and grove, +And wandering Daughters of the Air, +In monkey form brave children bear. +So erst the lord of bears I shaped, +Born from my mouth as wide I gaped." + + Thus by the mighty Sire addressed +They all obeyed his high behest, +And thus begot in countless swarms +Brave sons disguised in sylvan forms. +Each God, each sage became a sire, +Each minstrel of the heavenly quire,(112) +Each faun,(113) of children strong and good +Whose feet should roam the hill and wood. +Snakes, bards,(114) and spirits,(115) serpents bold +Had sons too numerous to be told. +Báli, the woodland hosts who led, +High as Mahendra's(116) lofty head, +Was Indra's child. That noblest fire, +The Sun, was great Sugríva's sire, +Tára, the mighty monkey, he +Was offspring of Vrihaspati:(117) +Tára the matchless chieftain, boast +For wisdom of the Vánar host. +Of Gandhamádan brave and bold +The father was the Lord of Gold. +Nala the mighty, dear to fame, +Of skilful Visvakarmá(118) came. +From Agni,(119) Nila bright as flame, +Who in his splendour, might, and worth, +Surpassed the sire who gave him birth. +The heavenly Asvins,(120) swift and fair, +Were fathers of a noble pair, +Who, Dwivida and Mainda named, +For beauty like their sires were famed, +Varun(121) was father of Sushen, +Of Sarabh, he who sends the rain,(122) +Hanúmán, best of monkey kind, +Was son of him who breathes the wind: +Like thunderbolt in frame was he, +And swift as Garud's(123) self could flee. +These thousands did the Gods create +Endowed with might that none could mate, +In monkey forms that changed at will; +So strong their wish the fiend to kill. +In mountain size, like lions thewed, +Up sprang the wondrous multitude, +Auxiliar hosts in every shape, +Monkey and bear and highland ape. +In each the strength, the might, the mien +Of his own parent God were seen. +Some chiefs of Vánar mothers came, +Some of she-bear and minstrel dame, +Skilled in all arms in battle's shock; +The brandished tree, the loosened rock; +And prompt, should other weapons fail, +To fight and slay with tooth and nail. +Their strength could shake the hills amain, +And rend the rooted trees in twain, +Disturb with their impetuous sweep +The Rivers' Lord, the Ocean deep, +Rend with their feet the seated ground, +And pass wide floods with airy bound, +Or forcing through the sky their way +The very clouds by force could stay. +Mad elephants that wander through +The forest wilds, could they subdue, +And with their furious shout could scare +Dead upon earth the birds of air. +So were the sylvan chieftains formed; +Thousands on thousands still they swarmed. +These were the leaders honoured most, +The captains of the Vánar host, +And to each lord and chief and guide +Was monkey offspring born beside. +Then by the bears' great monarch stood +The other roamers of the wood, +And turned, their pathless homes to seek, +To forest and to mountain peak. +The leaders of the monkey band +By the two brothers took their stand, +Sugríva, offspring of the Sun +And Báli, Indra's mighty one. +They both endowed with Garud's might, +And skilled in all the arts of fight, +Wandered in arms the forest through, +And lions, snakes, and tigers, slew. +But every monkey, ape, and bear +Ever was Báli's special care; +With his vast strength and mighty arm +He kept them from all scathe and harm. +And so the earth with hill, wood, seas, +Was filled with mighty ones like these, +Of various shape and race and kind, +With proper homes to each assigned, +With Ráma's champions fierce and strong + The earth was overspread, +High as the hills and clouds, a throng + With bodies vast and dread.(124) + + + + +Canto XVII. Rishyasring's Return. + + +Now when the high-souled monarch's rite, +The Asvamedh, was finished quite, +Their sacrificial dues obtained, +The Gods their heavenly homes regained. +The lofty-minded saints withdrew, +Each to his place, with honour due, +And kings and chieftains, one and all, +Who came to grace the festival. +And Dasaratha, ere they went, +Addressed them thus benevolent: +"Now may you, each with joyful heart, +To your own realms, O Kings, depart. +Peace and good luck attend you there, +And blessing, is my friendly prayer; +Let cares of state each mind engage +To guard his royal heritage. +A monarch from his throne expelled +No better than the dead is held. +So he who cares for power and might +Must guard his realm and royal right. +Such care a meed in heaven will bring +Better than rites and offering. +Such care a king his country owes +As man upon himself bestows, +When for his body he provides +Raiment and every need besides. +For future days should kings foresee, +And keep the present error-free." + + Thus did the king the kings exhort: +They heard, and turned them from the court +And, each to each in friendship bound, +Went forth to all the realms around. +The rites were o'er, the guests were sped: +The train the best of Bráhmans led, +In which the king with joyful soul, +With his dear wives, and with the whole +Of his imperial host and train +Of cars and servants turned again, +And, as a monarch dear to fame, +Within his royal city came. + + Next, Rishyasring, well-honoured sage, +And Sántá, sought their hermitage. +The king himself, of prudent mind, +Attended him, with troops behind. +And all her men the town outpoured +With Saint Vasishtha and their lord. +High mounted on a car of state, +O'er canopied fair Sántá sate. +Drawn by white oxen, while a band +Of servants marched on either hand. +Great gifts of countless price she bore, +With sheep and goats and gems in store. +Like Beauty's self the lady shone +With all the jewels she had on, +As, happy in her sweet content, +Peerless amid the fair she went. +Not Queen Paulomí's(125) self could be +More loving to her lord than she. +She who had lived in happy ease, +Honoured with all her heart could please, +While dames and kinsfolk ever vied +To see her wishes gratified, +Soon as she knew her husband's will +Again to seek the forest, still +Was ready for the hermit's cot, +Nor murmured at her altered lot. +The king attended to the wild +That hermit and his own dear child, +And in the centre of a throng +Of noble courtiers rode along. +The sage's son had let prepare +A lodge within the wood, and there +While they lingered blithe and gay. +Then, duly honoured, went their way. +The glorious hermit Rishyasring +Drew near and thus besought the king: + + "Return, my honoured lord, I pray, +Return, upon thy homeward way." +The monarch, with the waiting crowd, +Lifted his voice and wept aloud, +And with eyes dripping still to each +Of his good queens he spake this speech: + + "Kausalyá and Sumitrá dear, +And thou, my sweet Kaikeyí, hear. +All upon Sántá feast your gaze, +The last time for a length of days." +To Sántá's arms the ladies leapt, +And hung about her neck and wept, +And cried, "O, happy be the life +Of this great Bráhman and his wife. +The Wind, the Fire, the Moon on high, +The Earth, the Streams, the circling Sky, +Preserve thee in the wood, true spouse, +Devoted to thy husband's vows. +And O dear Sántá, ne'er neglect +To pay the dues of meek respect +To the great saint, thy husband's sire, +With all observance and with fire. +And, sweet one, pure of spot and blame, +Forget not thou thy husband's claim; +In every change, in good and ill, +Let thy sweet words delight him still, +And let thy worship constant be: +Her lord is woman's deity. +To learn thy welfare, dearest friend, +The king will many a Bráhman send. +Let happy thoughts thy spirit cheer, +And be not troubled, daughter dear." + + These soothing words the ladies said. +And pressed their lips upon her head. +Each gave with sighs her last adieu, +Then at the king's command withdrew. +The king around the hermit went +With circling footsteps reverent, +And placed at Rishyasring's command +Some soldiers of his royal band. +The Bráhman bowed in turn and cried, +"May fortune never leave thy side. +O mighty King, with justice reign, +And still thy people's love retain." +He spoke, and turned away his face, + And, as the hermit went, +The monarch, rooted to the place, + Pursued with eyes intent. +But when the sage had past from view +King Dasaratha turned him too, +Still fixing on his friend each thought. +With such deep love his breast was fraught. +Amid his people's loud acclaim +Home to his royal seat he came, + And lived delighted there, +Expecting when each queenly dame, +Upholder of his ancient fame, + Her promised son should bear. +The glorious sage his way pursued +Till close before his eyes he viewed +Sweet Champá, Lomapád's fair town, +Wreathed with her Champacs'(126) leafy crown. +Soon as the saint's approach he knew, +The king, to yield him honour due, +Went forth to meet him with a band +Of priests and nobles of the land: +"Hail, Sage," he cried, "O joy to me! +What bliss it is, my lord, to see +Thee with thy wife and all thy train +Returning to my town again. +Thy father, honoured Sage, is well, +Who hither from his woodland cell +Has sent full many a messenger +For tidings both of thee and her." +Then joyfully, for due respect, +The monarch bade the town be decked. +The king and Rishyasring elate +Entered the royal city's gate: + In front the chaplain rode. +Then, loved and honoured with all care +By monarch and by courtier, there + The glorious saint abode. + + + + +Canto XVIII. Rishyasring's Departure. + + +The monarch called a Bráhman near + And said, "Now speed away +To Kasyap's son,(127) the mighty seer, + And with all reverence say +The holy child he holds so dear, +The hermit of the noble mind, +Whose equal it were hard to find, + Returned, is dwelling here. +Go, and instead of me do thou +Before that best of hermits bow, +That still he may, for his dear son, +Show me the favour I have won." +Soon as the king these words had said, +To Kasyap's son the Bráhman sped. +Before the hermit low he bent +And did obeisance, reverent; +Then with meek words his grace to crave +The message of his lord he gave: +"The high-souled father of his bride +Had called thy son his rites to guide: +Those rites are o'er, the steed is slain; +Thy noble child is come again." + + Soon as the saint that speech had heard +His spirit with desire was stirred +To seek the city of the king +And to his cot his son to bring. +With young disciples at his side +Forth on his way the hermit hied, +While peasants from their hamlets ran +To reverence the holy man. +Each with his little gift of food, +Forth came the village multitude, +And, as they humbly bowed the head, +"What may we do for thee?" they said. +Then he, of Bráhmans first and best, +The gathered people thus addressed: +"Now tell me for I fain would know, +Why is it I am honoured so?" +They to the high-souled saint replied: +"Our ruler is with thee allied. +Our master's order we fulfil; +O Bráhman, let thy mind be still." + + With joy the saintly hermit heard +Each pleasant and delightful word, +And poured a benediction down +On king and ministers and town. +Glad at the words of that high saint +Some servants hastened to acquaint +Their king, rejoicing to impart +The tidings that would cheer his heart. +Soon as the joyful tale he knew +To meet the saint the monarch flew, +The guest-gift in his hand he brought, +And bowed before him and besought: +"This day by seeing thee I gain +Not to have lived my life in vain, +Now be not wroth with me, I pray, +"Because I wiled thy son away.(128) + + The best of Bráhmans answer made: +"Be not, great lord of kings, afraid. +Thy virtues have not failed to win +My favour, O thou pure of sin." +Then in the front the saint was placed, +The king came next in joyous haste, +And with him entered his abode, +Mid glad acclaim as on they rode. +To greet the sage the reverent crowd +Raised suppliant hands and humbly bowed. +Then from the palace many a dame +Following well-dressed Sántá came, +Stood by the mighty saint and cried: +"See, honour's source, thy son's dear bride." +The saint, who every virtue knew, +His arms around his daughter threw, +And with a father's rapture pressed +The lady to his wondering breast. +Arising from the saint's embrace +She bowed her low before his face, +And then, with palm to palm applied, +Stood by her hermit father's side. +He for his son, as laws ordain, +Performed the rite that frees from stain,(129) +And, honoured by the wise and good, +With him departed to the wood. + + + + +Canto XIX. The Birth Of The Princes. + + +The seasons six in rapid flight +Had circled since that glorious rite. +Eleven months had passed away; +'Twas Chaitra's ninth returning day.(130) +The moon within that mansion shone +Which Aditi looks kindly on. +Raised to their apex in the sky +Five brilliant planets beamed on high. +Shone with the moon, in Cancer's sign, +Vrihaspati(131) with light divine. +Kausalyá bore an infant blest +With heavenly marks of grace impressed; +Ráma, the universe's lord, +A prince by all the worlds adored. +New glory Queen Kausalyá won +Reflected from her splendid son. +So Aditi shone more and more, +The Mother of the Gods, when she +The King of the Immortals(132) bore, +The thunder-wielding deity. +The lotus-eyed, the beauteous boy, +He came fierce Rávan to destroy; +From half of Vishnu's vigour born, +He came to help the worlds forlorn. +And Queen Kaikeyí bore a child +Of truest valour, Bharat styled, +With every princely virtue blest, +One fourth of Vishnu manifest. +Sumitrá too a noble pair, +Called Lakshman and Satrughna, bare, +Of high emprise, devoted, true, +Sharers in Vishnu's essence too. +'Neath Pushya's(133) mansion, Mina's(134) sign, +Was Bharat born, of soul benign. +The sun had reached the Crab at morn +When Queen Sumitrá's babes were born, +What time the moon had gone to make +His nightly dwelling with the Snake. +The high-souled monarch's consorts bore +At different times those glorious four, +Like to himself and virtuous, bright +As Proshthapadá's(135) four-fold light. +Then danced the nymphs' celestial throng, + The minstrels raised their strain; +The drums of heaven pealed loud and long, + And flowers came down in rain. +Within Ayodhyá, blithe and gay, +All kept the joyous holiday. +The spacious square, the ample road +With mimes and dancers overflowed, +And with the voice of music rang +Where minstrels played and singers sang, +And shone, a wonder to behold, +With dazzling show of gems and gold. +Nor did the king his largess spare, +For minstrel, driver, bard, to share; +Much wealth the Bráhmans bore away, +And many thousand dine that day. + + Soon as each babe was twelve days old +'Twas time the naming rite to hold. +When Saint Vasishtha, rapt with joy, +Assigned a name to every boy. +Ráma, to him the high-souled heir, +Bharat, to him Kaikeyí bare: +Of Queen Sumitrá one fair son +Was Lakshman, and Satrughna(136) one +Ráma, his sire's supreme delight, +Like some proud banner cheered his sight, +And to all creatures seemed to be +The self-existent deity. +All heroes, versed in holy lore, +To all mankind great love they bore. +Fair stores of wisdom all possessed, +With princely graces all were blest. +But mid those youths of high descent, +With lordly light preëminent. +Like the full moon unclouded, shone +Ráma, the world's dear paragon. +He best the elephant could guide.(137) +Urge the fleet car, the charger ride: +A master he of bowman's skill, +Joying to do his father's will. +The world's delight and darling, he +Loved Lakshman best from infancy +And Lakshman, lord of lofty fate, +Upon his elder joyed to wait, +Striving his second self to please +With friendship's sweet observances. +His limbs the hero ne'er would rest +Unless the couch his brother pressed; +Except beloved Ráma shared +He could not taste the meal prepared. +When Ráma, pride of Reghu's race, +Sprang on his steed to urge the chase, +Behind him Lakshman loved to go +And guard him with his trusty bow. +As Ráma was to Lakshman dear +More than his life and ever near, +So fond Satrughna prized above +His very life his Bharat's love. +Illustrious heroes, nobly kind +In mutual love they all combined, +And gave their royal sire delight +With modest grace and warrior might: +Supported by the glorious four +Shone Dasaratha more and more, + As though, with every guardian God + Who keeps the land and skies, + The Father of all creatures trod + The earth before men's eyes. + + + + +Canto XX. Visvámitra's Visit. + + +Now Dasaratha's pious mind +Meet wedlock for his sons designed; +With priests and friends the king began +To counsel and prepare his plan. +Such thoughts engaged his bosom, when, +To see Ayodhyá's lord of men, +A mighty saint of glorious fame, +The hermit Visvámitra(138) came. +For evil fiends that roam by night +Disturbed him in each holy rite, +And in their strength and frantic rage +Assailed with witcheries the sage. +He came to seek the monarch's aid +To guard the rites the demons stayed, +Unable to a close to bring +One unpolluted offering. +Seeking the king in this dire strait +He said to those who kept the gate: +"Haste, warders, to your master run, +And say that here stands Gádhi's son." + + Soon as they heard the holy man, +To the king's chamber swift they ran +With minds disordered all, and spurred +To wildest zeal by what they heard. +On to the royal hall they sped, +There stood and lowly bowed the head, +And made the lord of men aware +That the great saint was waiting there. + The king with priest and peer arose +And ran the sage to meet, + As Indra from his palace goes +Lord Brahmá's self to greet. +When glowing with celestial light +The pious hermit was in sight, +The king, whose mien his transport showed, +The honoured gift for guests bestowed. +Nor did the saint that gift despise, +Offered as holy texts advise; +He kindly asked the earth's great king +How all with him was prospering. +The son of Kusik(139) bade him tell +If all in town and field were well, +All well with friends, and kith and kin, +And royal treasure stored within: + "Do all thy neighbours own thy sway? + Thy foes confess thee yet? + Dost thou continue still to pay + To Gods and men each debt?" +Then he, of hermits first and best, +Vasishtha with a smile(140) addressed, +And asked him of his welfare too, +Showing him honour as was due. +Then with the sainted hermit all +Went joyous to the monarch's hall, +And sate them down by due degree, +Each one, of rank and dignity. +Joy filled the noble prince's breast +Who thus bespoke the honoured guest: +"As amrit(141) by a mortal found, +As rain upon the thirsty ground, +As to an heirless man a son +Born to him of his precious one, +As gain of what we sorely miss, +As sudden dawn of mighty bliss, +So is thy coming here to me: +All welcome, mighty Saint, to thee. +What wish within thy heart hast thou? +If I can please thee, tell me how. +Hail, Saint, from whom all honours flow, +Worthy of all I can bestow. +Blest is my birth with fruit to-day, +Nor has my life been thrown away. +I see the best of Bráhman race +And night to glorious morn gives place. +Thou, holy Sage, in days of old +Among the royal saints enrolled, +Didst, penance-glorified, within +The Bráhman caste high station win. +'Tis meet and right in many a way +That I to thee should honour pay. +This seems a marvel to mine eyes: +All sin thy visit purifies; +And I by seeing thee, O Sage, +Have reaped the fruit of pilgrimage. +Then say what thou wouldst have me do, +That thou hast sought this interview. +Favoured by thee, my wish is still, +O Hermit, to perform thy will. +Nor needest thou at length explain +The object that thy heart would gain. +Without reserve I grant it now: +My deity, O Lord, art thou." + + The glorious hermit, far renowned, +With highest fame and virtue crowned, +Rejoiced these modest words to hear +Delightful to the mind and ear. + + + + +Canto XXI. Visvámitra's Speech. + + +The hermit heard with high content +That speech so wondrous eloquent, +And while each hair with joy arose,(142) +He thus made answer at the close: +"Good is thy speech O noble King, +And like thyself in everything. +So should their lips be wisdom-fraught +Whom kings begot, Vasishtha taught. +The favour which I came to seek +Thou grantest ere my tongue can speak. +But let my tale attention claim, +And hear the need for which I came. +O King, as Scripture texts allow, +A holy rite employs me now. +Two fiends who change their forms at will +Impede that rite with cursed skill.(143) +Oft when the task is nigh complete, +These worst of fiends my toil defeat, +Throw bits of bleeding flesh, and o'er +The altar shed a stream of gore. +When thus the rite is mocked and stayed, +And all my pious hopes delayed, +Cast down in heart the spot I leave, +And spent with fruitless labour grieve. +Nor can I, checked by prudence, dare +Let loose my fury on them there: +The muttered curse, the threatening word, +In such a rite must ne'er be heard. +Thy grace the rite from check can free. +And yield the fruit I long to see. +Thy duty bids thee, King, defend +The suffering guest, the suppliant friend. +Give me thy son, thine eldest born, +Whom locks like raven's wings adorn. +That hero youth, the truly brave, +Of thee, O glorious King, I crave. +For he can lay those demons low +Who mar my rites and work me woe: +My power shall shield the youth from harm, +And heavenly might shall nerve his arm. +And on my champion will I shower +Unnumbered gifts of varied power, +Such gifts as shall ensure his fame +And spread through all the worlds his name. +Be sure those fiends can never stand +Before the might of Ráma's hand, +And mid the best and bravest none +Can slay that pair but Raghu's son. +Entangled in the toils of Fate +Those sinners, proud and obstinate, +Are, in their fury overbold, +No match for Ráma mighty-souled. +Nor let a father's breast give way +Too far to fond affection's sway. +Count thou the fiends already slain: +My word is pledged, nor pledged in vain. +I know the hero Ráma well +In whom high thoughts and valour dwell; +So does Vasishtha, so do these +Engaged in long austerities. +If thou would do the righteous deed, +And win high fame, thy virtue's meed, +Fame that on earth shall last and live, +To me, great King, thy Ráma give. +If to the words that I have said, +With Saint Vasishtha at their head +Thy holy men, O King, agree, +Then let thy Ráma go with me. +Ten nights my sacrifice will last, +And ere the stated time be past +Those wicked fiends, those impious twain, +Must fall by wondrous Ráma slain. +Let not the hours, I warn thee, fly, +Fixt for the rite, unheeded by; +Good luck have thou, O royal Chief, +Nor give thy heart to needless grief." + + Thus in fair words with virtue fraught +The pious glorious saint besought. +But the good speech with poignant sting +Pierced ear and bosom of the king, +Who, stabbed with pangs too sharp to bear, +Fell prostrate and lay fainting there. + + + + +Canto XXII. Dasaratha's Speech. + + +His tortured senses all astray, +While the hapless monarch lay, +Then slowly gathering thought and strength +To Visvámitra spoke at length: +"My son is but a child, I ween; +This year he will be just sixteen. +How is he fit for such emprise, +My darling with the lotus eyes? +A mighty army will I bring +That calls me master, lord, and king, +And with its countless squadrons fight +Against these rovers of the night. +My faithful heroes skilled to wield +The arms of war will take the field; +Their skill the demons' might may break: +Ráma, my child, thou must not take. +I, even I, my bow in hand, +Will in the van of battle stand, +And, while my soul is left alive, +With the night-roaming demons strive. +Thy guarded sacrifice shall be +Completed, from all hindrance free. +Thither will I my journey make: +Ráma, my child, thou must not take. +A boy unskilled, he knows not yet +The bounds to strength and weakness set. +No match is he for demon foes +Who magic arts to arms oppose. +O chief of saints, I have no power, +Of Ráma reft, to live one hour: +Mine aged heart at once would break: +Ráma, my child, thou must not take. +Nine thousand circling years have fled +With all their seasons o'er my head, +And as a hard-won boon, O sage, +These sons have come to cheer mine age. +My dearest love amid the four +Is he whom first his mother bore, +Still dearer for his virtues' sake: +Ráma, my child, thou must not take. +But if, unmoved by all I say, +Thou needs must bear my son away, +Let me lead with him, I entreat, +A four-fold army(144) all complete. +What is the demons' might, O Sage? +Who are they? What their parentage? +What is their size? What beings lend +Their power to guard them and befriend? +How can my son their arts withstand? +Or I or all my armed band? +Tell me the whole that I may know +To meet in war each evil foe +Whom conscious might inspires with pride." + + And Visvámitra thus replied: +"Sprung from Pulastya's race there came +A giant known by Rávan's name. +Once favoured by the Eternal Sire +He plagues the worlds in ceaseless ire, +For peerless power and might renowned, +By giant bands encompassed round. +Visravas for his sire they hold, +His brother is the Lord of Gold. +King of the giant hosts is he, +And worst of all in cruelty. +This Rávan's dread commands impel +Two demons who in might excel, +Márícha and Suváhu hight, +To trouble and impede the rite." + + Then thus the king addressed the sage: +"No power have I, my lord, to wage +War with this evil-minded foe; +Now pity on my darling show, +And upon me of hapless fate, +For thee as God I venerate. +Gods, spirits, bards of heavenly birth,(145) +The birds of air, the snakes of earth +Before the might of Rávan quail, +Much less can mortal man avail. +He draws, I hear, from out the breast +The valour of the mightiest. +No, ne'er can I with him contend, +Or with the forces he may send. +How can I then my darling lend, +Godlike, unskilled in battle? No, +I will not let my young child go. +Foes of thy rite, those mighty ones, +Sunda and Upasunda's sons, +Are fierce as Fate to overthrow: +I will not let my young child go. +Márícha and Suváhu fell +Are valiant and instructed well. +One of the twain I might attack. +With all my friends their lord to back." + + + + +Canto XXIII. Vasishtha's Speech. + + +While thus the hapless monarch spoke, +Paternal love his utterance broke. +Then words like these the saint returned, +And fury in his bosom burned: +"Didst thou, O King, a promise make, +And wishest now thy word to break? +A son of Raghu's line should scorn +To fail in faith, a man forsworn. +But if thy soul can bear the shame +I will return e'en as I came. +Live with thy sons, and joy be thine, +False scion of Kakutstha's line." + + As Visvámitra, mighty sage, +Was moved with this tempestuous rage, +Earth rocked and reeled throughout her frame, +And fear upon the Immortals came. +But Saint Vasishtha, wisest seer, +Observant of his vows austere, +Saw the whole world convulsed with dread, +And thus unto the monarch said: +"Thou, born of old Ikshváku's seed, +Art Justice' self in mortal weed. +Constant and pious, blest by fate, +The right thou must not violate. +Thou, Raghu's son, so famous through +The triple world as just and true, +Perform thy bounden duty still, +Nor stain thy race by deed of ill. +If thou have sworn and now refuse +Thou must thy store of merit lose. +Then, Monarch, let thy Ráma go, +Nor fear for him the demon foe. +The fiends shall have no power to hurt +Him trained to war or inexpert, +Nor vanquish him in battle field, +For Kusik's son the youth will shield. +He is incarnate Justice, he +The best of men for bravery. +Embodied love of penance drear, +Among the wise without a peer. +Full well he knows, great Kusik's son, +The arms celestial, every one, +Arms from the Gods themselves concealed, +Far less to other men revealed. +These arms to him, when earth he swayed, +Mighty Krisásva, pleased, conveyed. +Krisásva's sons they are indeed, +Brought forth by Daksha's lovely seed,(146) +Heralds of conquest, strong and bold, +Brilliant, of semblance manifold. +Jayá and Vijayá, most fair, +And hundred splendid weapons bare. +Of Jayá, glorious as the morn, +First fifty noble sons were born, +Boundless in size yet viewless too, +They came the demons to subdue. +And fifty children also came +Of Vijayá the beauteous dame, +Sanháras named, of mighty force, +Hard to assail or check in course. +Of these the hermit knows the use, +And weapons new can he produce. +All these the mighty saint will yield +To Ráma's hand, to own and wield; +And armed with these, beyond a doubt +Shall Ráma put those fiends to rout. +For Ráma and the people's sake, +For thine own good my counsel take, +Nor seek, O King, with fond delay, +The parting of thy son to stay." + + + + +Canto XXIV. The Spells. + + + Vasishtha thus was speaking still: +The monarch, of his own free will, +Bade with quick zeal and joyful cheer +Ráma and Lakshman hasten near. +Mother and sire in loving care +Sped their dear son with rite and prayer: +Vasishtha blessed him ere he went; +O'er his loved head the father bent, +And then to Kusik's son resigned +Ráma with Lakshman close behind. +Standing by Visvámitra's side, +The youthful hero, lotus-eyed, +The Wind-God saw, and sent a breeze +Whose sweet pure touch just waved the trees. +There fell from heaven a flowery rain, +And with the song and dance the strain +Of shell and tambour sweetly blent +As forth the son of Raghu went. +The hermit led: behind him came +The bow-armed Ráma, dear to fame, +Whose locks were like the raven's wing:(147) +Then Lakshman, closely following. +The Gods and Indra, filled with joy, +Looked down upon the royal boy, +And much they longed the death to see +Of their ten-headed enemy.(148) +Ráma and Lakshman paced behind +That hermit of the lofty mind, +As the young Asvins,(149) heavenly pair, +Follow Lord Indra through the air. +On arm and hand the guard they wore, +Quiver and bow and sword they bore; +Two fire-born Gods of War seemed they.(150) +He, Siva's self who led the way. + + Upon fair Sarjú's southern shore +They now had walked a league and more, +When thus the sage in accents mild +To Ráma said: "Beloved child, +This lustral water duly touch: +My counsel will avail thee much. +Forget not all the words I say, +Nor let the occasion slip away. +Lo, with two spells I thee invest, +The mighty and the mightiest. +O'er thee fatigue shall ne'er prevail, +Nor age or change thy limbs assail. +Thee powers of darkness ne'er shall smite +In tranquil sleep or wild delight. +No one is there in all the land +Thine equal for the vigorous hand. +Thou, when thy lips pronounce the spell, +Shalt have no peer in heaven or hell. +None in the world with thee shall vie, +O sinless one, in apt reply, +In fortune, knowledge, wit, and tact, +Wisdom to plan and skill to act. +This double science take, and gain +Glory that shall for aye remain. +Wisdom and judgment spring from each +Of these fair spells whose use I teach. +Hunger and thirst unknown to thee, +High in the worlds thy rank shall be. +For these two spells with might endued, +Are the Great Father's heavenly brood, +And thee, O Chief, may fitly grace, +Thou glory of Kakutstha's race. +Virtues which none can match are thine, +Lord, from thy birth, of gifts divine, +And now these spells of might shall cast +Fresh radiance o'er the gifts thou hast." +Then Ráma duly touched the wave, + Raised suppliant hands, bowed low his head, +And took the spells the hermit gave, + Whose soul on contemplation fed. +From him whose might these gifts enhanced, +A brighter beam of glory glanced: +So shines in all his autumn blaze +The Day-God of the thousand rays. +The hermit's wants those youths supplied, +As pupils use to holy guide. +And then the night in sweet content +On Sarjú's pleasant bank they spent. + + + + +Canto XXV. The Hermitage Of Love. + + +Soon as appeared the morning light +Up rose the mighty anchorite, +And thus to youthful Ráma said, +Who lay upon his leafy bed: +"High fate is hers who calls thee son: + Arise, 'tis break of day; +Rise, Chief, and let those rites be done + Due at the morning's ray."(151) +At that great sage's high behest + Up sprang the princely pair, +To bathing rites themselves addressed, + And breathed the holiest prayer. +Their morning task completed, they + To Visvámitra came +That store of holy works, to pay + The worship saints may claim. +Then to the hallowed spot they went + Along fair Sarjú's side +Where mix her waters confluent + With three-pathed Gangá's tide.(152) +There was a sacred hermitage + Where saints devout of mind +Their lives through many a lengthened age + To penance had resigned. +That pure abode the princes eyed + With unrestrained delight, +And thus unto the saint they cried, + Rejoicing at the sight: +"Whose is that hermitage we see? + Who makes his dwelling there? +Full of desire to hear are we: + O Saint, the truth declare." +The hermit smiling made reply + To the two boys' request: +"Hear, Ráma, who in days gone by + This calm retreat possessed. +Kandarpa in apparent form, + Called Káma(153) by the wise, +Dared Umá's(154) new-wed lord to storm + And make the God his prize. +'Gainst Sthánu's(155) self, on rites austere + And vows intent,(156) they say, +His bold rash hand he dared to rear, + Though Sthánu cried, Away! +But the God's eye with scornful glare + Fell terrible on him. +Dissolved the shape that was so fair + And burnt up every limb. +Since the great God's terrific rage + Destroyed his form and frame, +Káma in each succeeding age + Has borne Ananga's(157) name. +So, where his lovely form decayed, + This land is Anga styled: +Sacred to him of old this shade, + And hermits undefiled. +Here Scripture-talking elders sway + Each sense with firm control, +And penance-rites have washed away + All sin from every soul. +One night, fair boy, we here will spend, + A pure stream on each hand, +And with to-morrow's light will bend + Our steps to yonder strand. +Here let us bathe, and free from stain + To that pure grove repair, +Sacred to Káma, and remain + One night in comfort there." +With penance' far-discerning eye + The saintly men beheld +Their coming, and with transport high + Each holy bosom swelled. +To Kusik's son the gift they gave + That honoured guest should greet, +Water they brought his feet to lave, + And showed him honor meet. +Ráma and Lakshman next obtained + In due degree their share. +Then with sweet talk the guests remained, + And charmed each listener there. +The evening prayers were duly said + With voices calm and low: +Then on the ground each laid his head + And slept till morning's glow. + + + + +Canto XXVI. The Forest Of Tádaká. + + +When the fair light of morning rose +The princely tamers of their foes +Followed, his morning worship o'er, +The hermit to the river's shore. +The high-souled men with thoughtful care +A pretty barge had stationed there. +All cried, "O lord, this barge ascend, +And with thy princely followers bend +To yonder side thy prosperous way +With naught to check thee or delay." + + Nor did the saint their rede reject: +He bade farewell with due respect, +And crossed, attended by the twain, +That river rushing to the main. +When now the bark was half way o'er, +Ráma and Lakshman heard the roar, +That louder grew and louder yet, +Of waves by dashing waters met. +Then Ráma asked the mighty seer: +"What is the tumult that I hear +Of waters cleft in mid career?" +Soon as the speech of Ráma, stirred +By deep desire to know, he heard, +The pious saint began to tell +What paused the waters' roar and swell: +"On high Kailása's distant hill + There lies a noble lake +Whose waters, born from Brahmá's will, + The name of Mánas(158) take. +Thence, hallowing where'er they flow, + The streams of Sarjú fall, +And wandering through the plains below + Embrace Ayodhyá's wall. +Still, still preserved in Sarjú's name + Sarovar's(159) fame we trace. +The flood of Brahma whence she came + To run her holy race. +To meet great Gangá here she hies + With tributary wave: +Hence the loud roar ye hear arise, + Of floods that swell and rave. +Here, pride of Raghu's line, do thou +In humble adoration bow." + + He spoke. The princes both obeyed, +And reverence to each river paid.(160) +They reached the southern shore at last, +And gaily on their journey passed. +A little space beyond there stood +A gloomy awe-inspiring wood. +The monarch's noble son began +To question thus the holy man: +"Whose gloomy forest meets mine eye +Like some vast cloud that fills the sky? +Pathless and dark it seems to be, +Where birds in thousands wander free; +Where shrill cicadas' cries resound, +And fowl of dismal note abound. +Lion, rhinoceros, and bear, +Boar, tiger, elephant, are there, + There shrubs and thorns run wild: +Dháo, Sál, Bignonia, Bel,(161) are found, +And every tree that grows on ground. + How is the forest styled?" +The glorious saint this answer made: +"Dear child of Raghu, hear +Who dwells within the horrid shade + That looks so dark and drear. +Where now is wood, long ere this day + Two broad and fertile lands, +Malaja and Karúsha lay, + Adorned by heavenly hands. +Here, mourning friendship's broken ties, +Lord Indra of the thousand eyes +Hungered and sorrowed many a day, +His brightness soiled with mud and clay, +When in a storm of passion he +Had slain his dear friend Namuchi. +Then came the Gods and saints who bore +Their golden pitchers brimming o'er +With holy streams that banish stain, +And bathed Lord Indra pure again. +When in this land the God was freed +From spot and stain of impious deed +For that his own dear friend he slew, +High transport thrilled his bosom through. +Then in his joy the lands he blessed, +And gave a boon they long possessed: +"Because these fertile lands retain +The washings of the blot and stain," + 'Twas thus Lord Indra sware, +"Malaja and Karúsha's name +Shall celebrate with deathless fame + My malady and care."(162) +"So be it," all the Immortals cried, + When Indra's speech they heard, +And with acclaim they ratified + The names his lips conferred. +Long time, O victor of thy foes, +These happy lands had sweet repose, +And higher still in fortune rose. +At length a spirit, loving ill, +Tádaká, wearing shapes at will, +Whose mighty strength, exceeding vast, +A thousand elephants, surpassed, +Was to fierce Sunda, lord and head +Of all the demon armies, wed. +From her, Lord Indra's peer in might +Giant Márícha sprang to light: +And she, a constant plague and pest, +These two fair realms has long distressed. +Now dwelling in her dark abode +A league away she bars the road: +And we, O Ráma, hence must go +Where lies the forest of the foe. +Now on thine own right arm rely, + And my command obey: +Smite the foul monster that she die, + And take the plague away. +To reach this country none may dare + Fallen from its old estate, +Which she, whose fury naught can bear, + Has left so desolate. +And now my truthful tale is told + How with accursed sway +The spirit plagued this wood of old, + And ceases not to-day." + + + + +Canto XXVII. The Birth Of Tádaká. + + +When thus the sage without a peer +Had closed that story strange to hear, +Ráma again the saint addressed +To set one lingering doubt at rest: +"O holy man, 'tis said by all +That spirits' strength is weak and small: +How can she match, of power so slight, +A thousand elephants in might?" +And Visvámitra thus replied +To Raghu's son the glorified: +"Listen, and I will tell thee how +She gained the strength that arms her now. +A mighty spirit lived of yore; +Suketu was the name he bore. +Childless was he, and free from crime +In rites austere he passed his time. +The mighty Sire was pleased to show +His favour, and a child bestow. +Tádaká named, most fair to see, +A pearl among the maids was she, +And matched, for such was Brahmá's dower, +A thousand elephants in power. +Nor would the Eternal Sire, although +The spirit longed, a son bestow +That maid in beauty's youthful pride +Was given to Sunda for a bride. +Her son, Márícha was his name, +A giant, through a curse, became. +She, widowed, dared with him molest +Agastya,(163) of all saints the best. +Inflamed with hunger's wildest rage, +Roaring she rushed upon the sage. +When the great hermit saw her near, +On speeding in her fierce career, +He thus pronounced Márícha's doom: +"A giant's form and shape assume." +And then, by mighty anger swayed, +On Tádaká this curse he laid: +"Thy present form and semblance quit, +And wear a shape thy mood to fit; +Changed form and feature by my ban, +A fearful thing that feeds on man." + + She, by his awful curse possessed, +And mad with rage that fills her breast, +Has on this land her fury dealt +Where once the saint Agastya dwelt. +Go, Ráma, smite this monster dead, +The wicked plague, of power so dread, +And further by this deed of thine +The good of Bráhmans and of kine. +Thy hand alone can overthrow, +In all the worlds, this impious foe. +Nor let compassion lead thy mind +To shrink from blood of womankind; +A monarch's son must ever count +The people's welfare paramount, +And whether pain or joy he deal +Dare all things for his subjects' weal; +Yea, if the deed bring praise or guilt, +If life be saved or blood be spilt: +Such, through all time, should be the care +Of those a kingdom's weight who bear. +Slay, Ráma, slay this impious fiend, +For by no law her life is screened. +So Manthará, as bards have told, +Virochan's child, was slain of old +By Indra, when in furious hate +She longed the earth to devastate. +So Kávya's mother, Bhrigu's wife, +Who loved her husband as her life, +When Indra's throne she sought to gain, +By Vishnu's hand of yore was slain. +By these and high-souled kings beside, +Struck down, have lawless women died." + + + + +Canto XXVIII. The Death Of Tádaká. + + +Thus spoke the saint. Each vigorous word +The noble monarch's offspring heard, +And, reverent hands together laid, +His answer to the hermit made: +"My sire and mother bade me aye +Thy word, O mighty Saint, obey +So will I, O most glorious, kill +This Tádaká who joys in ill, +For such my sire's, and such thy will. +To aid with mine avenging hand +The Bráhmans, kine, and all the land, +Obedient, heart and soul, I stand." + + Thus spoke the tamer of the foe, +And by the middle grasped his bow. +Strongly he drew the sounding string +That made the distant welkin ring. +Scared by the mighty clang the deer +That roamed the forest shook with fear, +And Tádaká the echo heard, +And rose in haste from slumber stirred. +In wild amaze, her soul aflame +With fury toward the spot she came. +When that foul shape of evil mien +And stature vast as e'er was seen +The wrathful son of Raghu eyed, +He thus unto his brother cried: +"Her dreadful shape, O Lakshman, see, +A form to shudder at and flee. +The hideous monster's very view +Would cleave a timid heart in two. +Behold the demon hard to smite, +Defended by her magic might. +My hand shall stay her course to-day, +And shear her nose and ears away. +No heart have I her life to take: +I spare it for her sex's sake. +My will is but, with minished force, +To check her in her evil course." +While thus he spoke, by rage impelled + Roaring as she came nigh, +The fiend her course at Ráma held + With huge arms tossed on high. +Her, rushing on, the seer assailed + With a loud cry of hate; +And thus the sons of Raghu hailed: + "Fight, and be fortunate." +Then from the earth a horrid cloud + Of dust the demon raised, +And for awhile in darkling shroud + Wrapt Raghu's sons amazed. +Then calling on her magic power + The fearful fight to wage, +She smote him with a stony shower, + Till Ráma burned with rage. +Then pouring forth his arrowy rain + That stony flood to stay, +With winged darts, as she charged amain, + He shore her hands away. +As Tádaká still thundered near + Thus maimed by Ráma's blows, +Lakshman in fury severed sheer + The monster's ears and nose. +Assuming by her magic skill + A fresh and fresh disguise, +She tried a thousand shapes at will, + Then vanished from their eyes. +When Gádhi's son of high renown +Still saw the stony rain pour down +Upon each princely warrior's head, +With words of wisdom thus he said: +"Enough of mercy, Ráma, lest +This sinful evil-working pest, +Disturber of each holy rite, +Repair by magic arts her might. +Without delay the fiend should die, +For, see, the twilight hour is nigh. +And at the joints of night and day +Such giant foes are hard to slay." +Then Ráma, skilful to direct + His arrow to the sound, +With shafts the mighty demon checked + Who rained her stones around. +She sore impeded and beset +By Ráma and his arrowy net, +Though skilled in guile and magic lore, +Rushed on the brothers with a roar. +Deformed, terrific, murderous, dread, +Swift as the levin on she sped, +Like cloudy pile in autumn's sky, +Lifting her two vast arms on high, +When Ráma smote her with a dart, +Shaped like a crescent, to the heart. +Sore wounded by the shaft that came +With lightning speed and surest aim, +Blood spouting from her mouth and side, +She fell upon the earth and died. +Soon as the Lord who rules the sky +Saw the dread monster lifeless lie, +He called aloud, Well done! well done! +And the Gods honoured Raghu's son. +Standing in heaven the Thousand-eyed, +With all the Immortals, joying cried: +"Lift up thine eyes, O Saint, and see +The Gods and Indra nigh to thee. +This deed of Ráma's boundless might +Has filled our bosoms with delight, +Now, for our will would have it so, +To Raghu's son some favour show. +Invest him with the power which naught +But penance gains and holy thought, +Those heavenly arms on him bestow +To thee entrusted long ago +By great Krisásva best of kings, +Son of the Lord of living things. +More fit recipient none can be +Than he who joys it following thee; +And for our sakes the monarch's seed +Has yet to do a mighty deed." + + He spoke; and all the heavenly train +Rejoicing sought their homes again, +While honour to the saint they paid. +Then came the evening's twilight shade, +The best of hermits overjoyed +To know the monstrous fiend destroyed, +His lips on Ráma's forehead pressed, +And thus the conquering chief addressed: +"O Ráma gracious to the sight. +Here will we pass the present night, +And with the morrow's earliest ray +Bend to my hermitage our way." +The son of Dasaratha heard, +Delighted, Visvámitra's word, +And as he bade, that night he spent +In Tádaká's wild wood, content. +And the grove shone that happy day, +Freed from the curse that on it lay, +Like Chaitraratha(164) fair and gay. + + + + +Canto XXIX. The Celestial Arms. + + +That night they slept and took their rest; +And then the mighty saint addressed, +With pleasant smile and accents mild +These words to Raghu's princely child: +"Well pleased am I. High fate be thine, +Thou scion of a royal line. +Now will I, for I love thee so, +All heavenly arms on thee bestow. +Victor with these, whoe'er oppose, +Thy hand shall conquer all thy foes, +Though Gods and spirits of the air, +Serpents and fiends, the conflict dare. +I'll give thee as a pledge of love +The mystic arms they use above, +For worthy thou to have revealed +The weapons I have learnt to wield.(165) +First, son of Raghu, shall be thine +The arm of Vengeance, strong, divine: +The arm of Fate, the arm of Right, +And Vishnu's arm of awful might: +That, before which no foe can stand, +The thunderbolt of Indra's hand; +And Siva's trident, sharp and dread, +And that dire weapon Brahmá's Head. +And two fair clubs, O royal child, +One Charmer and one Pointed styled +With flame of lambent fire aglow, +On thee, O Chieftain, I bestow. +And Fate's dread net and Justice' noose +That none may conquer, for thy use: +And the great cord, renowned of old, +Which Varun ever loves to hold. +Take these two thunderbolts, which I +Have got for thee, the Moist and Dry. +Here Siva's dart to thee I yield, +And that which Vishnu wont to wield. +I give to thee the arm of Fire, +Desired by all and named the Spire. +To thee I grant the Wind-God's dart, +Named Crusher, O thou pure of heart, +This arm, the Horse's Head, accept, +And this, the Curlew's Bill yclept, +And these two spears, the best e'er flew, +Named the Invincible and True. +And arms of fiends I make thine own, +Skull-wreath and mace that smashes bone. +And Joyous, which the spirits bear, +Great weapon of the sons of air. +Brave offspring of the best of lords, +I give thee now the Gem of swords, +And offer next, thine hand to arm, +The heavenly bards' beloved charm. +Now with two arms I thee invest +Of never-ending Sleep and Rest, +With weapons of the Sun and Rain, +And those that dry and burn amain; +And strong Desire with conquering touch, +The dart that Káma prizes much. +I give the arm of shadowy powers +That bleeding flesh of men devours. +I give the arms the God of Gold +And giant fiends exult to hold. +This smites the foe in battle-strife, +And takes his fortune, strength, and life. +I give the arms called False and True, +And great Illusion give I too; +The hero's arm called Strong and Bright +That spoils the foeman's strength in fight. +I give thee as a priceless boon +The Dew, the weapon of the Moon, +And add the weapon, deftly planned, +That strengthens Visvakarmá's hand. +The Mortal dart whose point is chill, +And Slaughter, ever sure to kill; +All these and other arms, for thou +Art very dear, I give thee now. +Receive these weapons from my hand, +Son of the noblest in the land." + + Facing the east, the glorious saint +Pure from all spot of earthly taint, +To Ráma, with delighted mind, +That noble host of spells consigned. +He taught the arms, whose lore is won +Hardly by Gods, to Raghu's son. +He muttered low the spell whose call +Summons those arms and rules them all +And, each in visible form and frame, +Before the monarch's son they came. +They stood and spoke in reverent guise +To Ráma with exulting cries: +"O noblest child of Raghu, see, +Thy ministers and thralls are we." + With joyful heart and eager hand +Ráma received the wondrous band, +And thus with words of welcome cried: +"Aye present to my will abide." +Then hasted to the saint to pay +Due reverence, and pursued his way. + + + + +Canto XXX. The Mysterious Powers.(166) + + +Pure, with glad cheer and joyful breast, +Of those mysterious arms possessed, +Ráma, now passing on his way, +Thus to the saint began to say: +"Lord of these mighty weapons, I +Can scarce be harmed by Gods on high; +Now, best of saints, I long to gain +The powers that can these arms restrain." +Thus spoke the prince. The sage austere, +True to his vows, from evil clear, +Called forth the names of those great charms +Whose powers restrain the deadly arms. +"Receive thou True and Truly famed, +And Bold and Fleet: the weapons named +Warder and Progress, swift of pace, +Averted-head and Drooping-face; +The Seen, and that which Secret flies; +The weapon of the thousand eyes; +Ten-headed, and the Hundred-faced, +Star-gazer and the Layer-waste: +The Omen-bird, the Pure-from-spot, +The pair that wake and slumber not: +The Fiendish, that which shakes amain, +The Strong-of-Hand, the Rich-in-Gain: +The Guardian, and the Close-allied, +The Gaper, Love, and Golden-side: +O Raghu's son receive all these, +Bright ones that wear what forms they please; +Krisásva's mystic sons are they, +And worthy thou their might to sway." +With joy the pride of Raghu's race +Received the hermit's proffered grace, +Mysterious arms, to check and stay, +Or smite the foeman in the fray. +Then, all with heavenly forms endued, +Nigh came the wondrous multitude. +Celestial in their bright attire +Some shone like coals of burning fire; +Some were like clouds of dusky smoke; +And suppliant thus they sweetly spoke: +"Thy thralls, O Ráma, here we stand: +Command, we pray, thy faithful band" +"Depart," he cried, "where each may list, +But when I call you to assist, +Be present to my mind with speed, +And aid me in the hour of need." + + To Ráma then they lowly bent, +And round him in due reverence went, +To his command, they answered, Yea, +And as they came so went away. +When thus the arms had homeward flown, +With pleasant words and modest tone, +E'en as he walked, the prince began +To question thus the holy man: +"What cloudlike wood is that which near +The mountain's side I see appear? +O tell me, for I long to know; +Its pleasant aspect charms me so. +Its glades are full of deer at play, +And sweet birds sing on every spray, +Past is the hideous wild; I feel +So sweet a tremor o'er me steal, +And hail with transport fresh and new +A land that is so fair to view. +Then tell me all, thou holy Sage, +And whose this pleasant hermitage +In which those wicked ones delight +To mar and kill each holy rite. +And with foul heart and evil deed +Thy sacrifice, great Saint, impede. +To whom, O Sage, belongs this land +In which thine altars ready stand! +'Tis mine to guard them, and to slay +The giants who the rites would stay. +All this, O best of saints, I burn +From thine own lips, my lord, to learn." + + + + +Canto XXXI. The Perfect Hermitage. + + +Thus spoke the prince of boundless might, +And thus replied the anchorite: +"Chief of the mighty arm, of yore +Lord Vishnu whom the Gods adore, +For holy thought and rites austere +Of penance made his dwelling here. +This ancient wood was called of old +Grove of the Dwarf, the mighty-souled, +And when perfection he attained +The grove the name of Perfect gained. +Bali of yore, Virochan's son, +Dominion over Indra won, +And when with power his proud heart swelled, +O'er the three worlds his empire held. +When Bali then began a rite, +The Gods and Indra in affright +Sought Vishnu in this place of rest, +And thus with prayers the God addressed: +"Bali. Virochan's mighty son, +His sacrifice has now begun: +Of boundless wealth, that demon king +Is bounteous to each living thing. +Though suppliants flock from every side +The suit of none is e'er denied. +Whate'er, where'er howe'er the call, +He hears the suit and gives to all. +Now with thine own illusive art +Perform, O Lord, the helper's part: +Assume a dwarfish form, and thus +From fear and danger rescue us."(167) + + Thus in their dread the Immortals sued: +The God a dwarflike shape indued:(168) +Before Virochan's son he came, +Three steps of land his only claim. +The boon obtained, in wondrous wise +Lord Vishnu's form increased in size; +Through all the worlds, tremendous, vast, +God of the Triple Step, he passed.(169) +The whole broad earth from side to side +He measured with one mighty stride, +Spanned with the next the firmament, +And with the third through heaven he went. +Thus was the king of demons hurled +By Vishnu to the nether world, +And thus the universe restored +To Indra's rule, its ancient lord. +And now because the immortal God +This spot in dwarflike semblance trod, +The grove has aye been loved by me +For reverence of the devotee. +But demons haunt it, prompt to stay +Each holy offering I would pay. +Be thine, O lion-lord, to kill +These giants that delight in ill. +This day, beloved child, our feet +Shall rest within the calm retreat: +And know, thou chief of Raghu's line, +My hermitage is also thine." + + He spoke; and soon the anchorite, +With joyous looks that beamed delight, +With Ráma and his brother stood +Within the consecrated wood. +Soon as they saw the holy man, +With one accord together ran +The dwellers in the sacred shade, +And to the saint their reverence paid, +And offered water for his feet, +The gift of honour and a seat; +And next with hospitable care +They entertained the princely pair. +The royal tamers of their foes +Rested awhile in sweet repose: +Then to the chief of hermits sued +Standing in suppliant attitude: +"Begin, O best of saints, we pray, +Initiatory rites to-day. +This Perfect Grove shall be anew +Made perfect, and thy words be true." + + Then, thus addressed, the holy man, +The very glorious sage, began +The high preliminary rite. +Restraining sense and appetite. +Calmly the youths that night reposed, +And rose when morn her light disclosed, +Their morning worship paid, and took +Of lustral water from the brook. +Thus purified they breathed the prayer, +Then greeted Visvámitra where +As celebrant he sate beside +The flame with sacred oil supplied. + + + + +Canto XXXII. Visvámitra's Sacrifice. + + +That conquering pair, of royal race, +Skilled to observe due time and place, +To Kusik's hermit son addressed, +In timely words, their meet request: +"When must we, lord, we pray thee tell, +Those Rovers of the Night repel? +Speak, lest we let the moment fly, +And pass the due occasion by." +Thus longing for the strife, they prayed, +And thus the hermits answer made: +"Till the fifth day be come and past, +O Raghu's sons, your watch must last. +The saint his Dikshá(170) has begun, +And all that time will speak to none." +Soon as the steadfast devotees +Had made reply in words like these, +The youths began, disdaining sleep, +Six days and nights their watch to keep. +The warrior pair who tamed the foe, +Unrivalled benders of the bow, +Kept watch and ward unwearied still +To guard the saint from scathe and ill. +'Twas now the sixth returning day, +The hour foretold had past away. +Then Ráma cried: "O Lakshman, now +Firm, watchful, resolute be thou. +The fiends as yet have kept afar +From the pure grove in which we are: +Yet waits us, ere the day shall close, +Dire battle with the demon foes." + + While thus spoke Ráma borne away +By longing for the deadly fray, +See! bursting from the altar came +The sudden glory of the flame. +Round priest and deacon, and upon +Grass, ladles, flowers, the splendour shone, + And the high rite, in order due, +With sacred texts began anew. +But then a loud and fearful roar + Re-echoed through the sky; +And like vast clouds that shadow o'er + The heavens in dark July, +Involved in gloom of magic might + Two fiends rushed on amain, +Márícha, Rover of the Night, + Suváhu, and their train. +As on they came in wild career + Thick blood in rain they shed; +And Ráma saw those things of fear + Impending overhead. +Then soon as those accursed two + Who showered down blood be spied, +Thus to his brother brave and true + Spoke Ráma lotus-eyed: +"Now, Lakshman, thou these fiends shalt see, + Man-eaters, foul of mind, +Before my mortal weapon flee + Like clouds before the wind." +He spoke. An arrow, swift as thought, + Upon his bow he pressed, +And smote, to utmost fury wrought, + Márícha on the breast. +Deep in his flesh the weapon lay + Winged by the mystic spell, +And, hurled a hundred leagues away, + In ocean's flood he fell. +Then Ráma, when he saw the foe + Convulsed and mad with pain +Neath the chill-pointed weapon's blow, + To Lakshman spoke again: +"See, Lakshman, see! this mortal dart + That strikes a numbing chill, +Hath struck him senseless with the smart, + But left him breathing still. +But these who love the evil way, + And drink the blood they spill, +Rejoicing holy rites to stay, + Fierce plagues, my hand shall kill." +He seized another shaft, the best, + Aglow with living flame; +It struck Suváhu on the chest, + And dead to earth he came. +Again a dart, the Wind-God's own, + Upon his string he laid, +And all the demons were o'erthrown, + The saints no more afraid. +When thus the fiends were slain in fight, +Disturbers of each holy rite, +Due honour by the saints was paid +To Ráma for his wondrous aid: +So Indra is adored when he +Has won some glorious victory. +Success at last the rite had crowned, +And Visvámitra gazed around, +And seeing every side at rest, +The son of Raghu thus addressed: +"My joy, O Prince, is now complete: + Thou hast obeyed my will: +Perfect before, this calm retreat + Is now more perfect still." + + + + +Canto XXXIII. The Sone. + + +Their task achieved, the princes spent +That night with joy and full content. +Ere yet the dawn was well displayed +Their morning rites they duly paid, +And sought, while yet the light was faint, +The hermits and the mighty saint. +They greeted first that holy sire +Resplendent like the burning fire, +And then with noble words began +Their sweet speech to the sainted man: +"Here stand, O Lord, thy servants true: +Command what thou wouldst have us do." + + The saints, by Visvámitra led, +To Ráma thus in answer said: +"Janak the king who rules the land +Of fertile Míthilá has planned +A noble sacrifice, and we +Will thither go the rite to see. +Thou, Prince of men, with us shalt go, +And there behold the wondrous bow, +Terrific, vast, of matchless might, +Which, splendid at the famous rite, +The Gods assembled gave the king. +No giant, fiend, or God can string +That gem of bows, no heavenly bard: +Then, sure, for man the task were hard. +When lords of earth have longed to know +The virtue of that wondrous bow, +The strongest sons of kings in vain +Have tried the mighty cord to strain. +This famous bow thou there shalt view, +And wondrous rites shalt witness too. +The high-souled king who lords it o'er +The realm of Míthilá of yore +Gained from the Gods this bow, the price +Of his imperial sacrifice. +Won by the rite the glorious prize +Still in the royal palace lies, +Laid up in oil of precious scent +With aloe-wood and incense blent." + + Then Ráma answering, Be it so, +Made ready with the rest to go. +The saint himself was now prepared, +But ere beyond the grove he fared, +He turned him and in words like these +Addressed the sylvan deities: +"Farewell! each holy rite complete, +I leave the hermits' perfect seat: +To Gangá's northern shore I go +Beneath Himálaya's peaks of snow." +With reverent steps he paced around +The limits of the holy ground, +And then the mighty saint set forth +And took his journey to the north. +His pupils, deep in Scripture's page, +Followed behind the holy sage, +And servants from the sacred grove +A hundred wains for convoy drove. +The very birds that winged that air, +The very deer that harboured there, +Forsook the glade and leafy brake +And followed for the hermit's sake. +They travelled far, till in the west +The sun was speeding to his rest, +And made, their portioned journey o'er, +Their halt on Sona's(171) distant shore. +The hermits bathed when sank the sun, +And every rite was duly done, +Oblations paid to Fire, and then +Sate round their chief the holy men. +Ráma and Lakshman lowly bowed +In reverence to the hermit crowd, +And Ráma, having sate him down +Before the saint of pure renown, +With humble palms together laid +His eager supplication made: +"What country, O my lord, is this, +Fair-smiling in her wealth and bliss? +Deign fully, O thou mighty Seer, +To tell me, for I long to hear." +Moved by the prayer of Ráma, he +Told forth the country's history. + + + + +Canto XXXIV. Brahmadatta. + + +"A king of Brahmá's seed who bore +The name of Kusa reigned of yore. +Just, faithful to his vows, and true, +He held the good in honour due. +His bride, a queen of noble name, +Of old Vidarbha's(172) monarchs came. +Like their own father, children four, +All valiant boys, the lady bore. +In glorious deeds each nerve they strained, +And well their Warrior part sustained. +To them most just, and true, and brave, +Their father thus his counsel gave: +"Beloved children, ne'er forget +Protection is a prince's debt: +The noble work at once begin, +High virtue and her fruits to win." +The youths, to all the people dear, +Received his speech with willing ear; +And each went forth his several way, +Foundations of a town to lay. +Kusámba, prince of high renown, +Was builder of Kausámbí's town, +And Kusanábha, just and wise, +Bade high Mahodaya's towers arise. +Amúrtarajas chose to dwell +In Dharmáranya's citadel, +And Vasu bade his city fair +The name of Girivraja bear.(173) +This fertile spot whereon we stand +Was once the high-souled Vasu's land. +Behold! as round we turn our eyes, +Five lofty mountain peaks arise. +See! bursting from her parent hill, +Sumágadhí, a lovely rill, +Bright gleaming as she flows between +The mountains, like a wreath is seen, +And then through Magadh's plains and groves +With many a fair mæander roves. +And this was Vasu's old domain, +The fertile Magadh's broad champaign, +Which smiling fields of tilth adorn +And diadem with golden corn. + + The queen Ghritáchí, nymph most fair, +Married to Kusanábha, bare +A hundred daughters, lovely-faced, +With every charm and beauty graced. +It chanced the maidens, bright and gay +As lightning-flashes on a day +Of rain time, to the garden went +With song and play and merriment, +And there in gay attire they strayed, +And danced, and laughed, and sang, and played. +The God of Wind who roves at will +All places, as he lists, to fill, +Saw the young maidens dancing there, +Of faultless shape and mien most fair. +"I love you all, sweet girls," he cried, +"And each shall be my darling bride. +Forsake, forsake your mortal lot, +And gain a life that withers not. +A fickle thing is youth's brief span, +And more than all in mortal man. +Receive unending youth, and be +Immortal, O my loves, with me." + + The hundred girls, to wonder stirred, +The wooing of the Wind-God heard, +Laughed, as a jest, his suit aside, +And with one voice they thus replied: +"O mighty Wind, free spirit who +All life pervadest, through and through, +Thy wondrous power we maidens know; +Then wherefore wilt thou mock us so? +Our sire is Kusanábha, King; +And we, forsooth, have charms to bring +A God to woo us from the skies; +But honour first we maidens prize. +Far may the hour, we pray, be hence, +When we, O thou of little sense, +Our truthful father's choice refuse, +And for ourselves our husbands choose. +Our honoured sire our lord we deem, +He is to us a God supreme, +And they to whom his high decree +May give us shall our husbands be." + + He heard the answer they returned, +And mighty rage within him burned. +On each fair maid a blast he sent: +Each stately form he bowed and bent. +Bent double by the Wind-God's ire +They sought the palace of their sire, +There fell upon the ground with sighs, +While tears and shame were in their eyes. +The king himself, with troubled brow, +Saw his dear girls so fair but now, +A mournful sight all bent and bowed, +And grieving thus he cried aloud: +"What fate is this, and what the cause? +What wretch has scorned all heavenly laws? +Who thus your forms could curve and break? +You struggle, but no answer make." + + They heard the speech of that wise king +Of their misfortune questioning. +Again the hundred maidens sighed, +Touched with their heads his feet, and cried: +"The God of Wind, pervading space, +Would bring on us a foul disgrace, +And choosing folly's evil way +From virtue's path in scorn would stray. +But we in words like these reproved +The God of Wind whom passion moved: +"Farewell, O Lord! A sire have we, +No women uncontrolled and free. +Go, and our sire's consent obtain +If thou our maiden hands wouldst gain. +No self-dependent life we live: +If we offend, our fault forgive." +But led by folly as a slave, +He would not hear the rede we gave, +And even as we gently spoke +We felt the Wind-God's crushing stroke." + + The pious king, with grief distressed, +The noble hundred thus addressed: +"With patience, daughters, bear your fate, +Yours was a deed supremely great +When with one mind you kept from shame +The honour of your father's name. +Patience, when men their anger vent, +Is woman's praise and ornament; +Yet when the Gods inflict the blow +Hard is it to support the woe. +Patience, my girls, exceeds all price: +'Tis alms, and truth, and sacrifice. +Patience is virtue, patience fame: +Patience upholds this earthly frame. +And now, I think, is come the time +To wed you in your maiden prime. +Now, daughters, go where'er you will: +Thoughts for your good my mind shall fill." + + The maidens went, consoled, away: +The best of kings, that very day, +Summoned his ministers of state +About their marriage to debate. +Since then, because the Wind-God bent +The damsels' forms for punishment, +That royal town is known to fame +By Kanyákubja's(174) borrowed name. + + There lived a sage called Chúli then, +Devoutest of the sons of men; +His days in penance rites he spent, +A glorious saint, most continent. +To him absorbed in tasks austere +The child of Urmilá drew near, +Sweet Somadá, the heavenly maid +And lent the saint her pious aid. +Long time near him the maiden spent, +And served him meek and reverent, +Till the great hermit, pleased with her, +Thus spoke unto his minister: +"Grateful am I for all thy care: +Blest maiden, speak, thy wish declare." +The sweet-voiced nymph rejoiced to see +The favour of the devotee, +And to that eloquent old man, +Most eloquent she thus began: +"Thou hast, by heavenly grace sustained, +Close union with the Godhead gained. +I long, O Saint, to see a son +By force of holy penance won. +Unwed, a maiden life I live: +A son to me, thy suppliant, give." +The saint with favour heard her prayer, +And gave a son exceeding fair. +Him, Chúli's spiritual child, +His mother Brahmadatta(175) styled. +King Brahmadatta, rich and great, +In Kámpilí maintained his state, +Ruling, like Indra in his bliss, +His fortunate metropolis. +King Kusanábha planned that he +His hundred daughters' lord should be. +To him, obedient to his call, +The happy monarch gave them all. +Like Indra then he took the hand +Of every maiden of the band. +Soon as the hand of each young maid +In Brahmadatta's palm was laid, +Deformity and cares away, +She shone in beauty bright and gay. +Their freedom from the Wind-God's might +Saw Kusanábha with delight. +Each glance that on their forms he threw +Filled him with raptures ever new. +Then when the rites were all complete, +With highest marks of honour meet +The bridegroom with his brides he sent +To his great seat of government. + + The nymph received with pleasant speech +Her daughters; and, embracing each, +Upon their forms she fondly gazed, +And royal Kusanábha praised. + + + + +Canto XXXV. Visvámitra's Lineage. + + +"The rites were o'er, the maids were wed, +The bridegroom to his home was sped. +The sonless monarch bade prepare +A sacrifice to gain an heir. +Then Kusa, Brahmá's son, appeared, +And thus King Kusanábha cheered: +"Thou shalt, my child, obtain a son +Like thine own self, O holy one. +Through him for ever, Gádhi named, +Shalt thou in all the worlds be famed." +He spoke, and vanished from the sight +To Brahmá's world of endless light. +Time fled, and, as the saint foretold, +Gádhi was born, the holy-souled. +My sire was he; through him I trace +My line from royal Kusa's race. +My sister--elder-born was she-- +The pure and good Satyavatí,(176) +Was to the great Richíka wed. +Still faithful to her husband dead, +She followed him, most noble dame, +And, raised to heaven in human frame, +A pure celestial stream became. +Down from Himálaya's snowy height, +In floods for ever fair and bright, +My sister's holy waves are hurled +To purify and glad the world. +Now on Himálaya's side I dwell +Because I love my sister well. +She, for her faith and truth renowned, +Most loving to her husband found, +High-fated, firm in each pure vow, +Is queen of all the rivers now. +Bound by a vow I left her side +And to the Perfect convent hied. +There, by the aid 'twas thine to lend, +Made perfect, all my labours end. +Thus, mighty Prince, I now have told +My race and lineage, high and old, +And local tales of long ago +Which thou, O Ráma, fain wouldst know. +As I have sate rehearsing thus +The midnight hour is come on us. +Now, Ráma, sleep, that nothing may +Our journey of to-morrow stay. +No leaf on any tree is stirred: +Hushed in repose are beast and bird: +Where'er you turn, on every side, +Dense shades of night the landscape hide, +The light of eve is fled: the skies, +Thick-studded with their host of eyes, +Seem a star-forest overhead, +Where signs and constellations spread. +Now rises, with his pure cold ray, +The moon that drives the shades away, +And with his gentle influence brings +Joy to the hearts of living things. +Now, stealing from their lairs, appear +The beasts to whom the night is dear. +Now spirits walk, and every power +That revels in the midnight hour." + + The mighty hermit's tale was o'er, +He closed his lips and spoke no more. +The holy men on every side, +"Well done! well done," with reverence cried; +"The mighty men of Kusa's seed +Were ever famed for righteous deed. +Like Brahmá's self in glory shine +The high-souled lords of Kusa's line, +And thy great name is sounded most, +O Saint, amid the noble host. +And thy dear sister--fairest she +Of streams, the high-born Kausikí-- +Diffusing virtue where she flows, +New splendour on thy lineage throws." +Thus by the chief of saints addressed +The son of Gádhi turned to rest; +So, when his daily course is done, +Sinks to his rest the beaming sun. +Ráma with Lakshman, somewhat stirred +To marvel by the tales they heard, +Turned also to his couch, to close +His eyelids in desired repose. + + + + +Canto XXXVI. The Birth Of Gangá. + + +The hours of night now waning fast +On Sona's pleasant shore they passed. +Then, when the dawn began to break, +To Ráma thus the hermit spake: +"The light of dawn is breaking clear, +The hour of morning rites is near. +Rise, Ráma, rise, dear son, I pray, +And make thee ready for the way." + + Then Ráma rose, and finished all +His duties at the hermit's call, +Prepared with joy the road to take, +And thus again in question spake: +"Here fair and deep the Sona flows, +And many an isle its bosom shows: +What way, O Saint, will lead us o'er +And land us on the farther shore?" +The saint replied: "The way I choose +Is that which pious hermits use." +For many a league they journeyed on +Till, when the sun of mid-day shone, +The hermit-haunted flood was seen +Of Jáhnaví,(177) the Rivers' Queen. +Soon as the holy stream they viewed, +Thronged with a white-winged multitude +Of sárases(178) and swans,(179) delight +Possessed them at the lovely sight; +And then prepared the hermit band +To halt upon that holy strand. +They bathed as Scripture bids, and paid +Oblations due to God and shade. +To Fire they burnt the offerings meet, +And sipped the oil, like Amrit sweet. +Then pure and pleased they sate around +Saint Visvámitra on the ground. +The holy men of lesser note, +In due degree, sate more remote, +While Raghu's sons took nearer place +By virtue of their rank and race. +Then Ráma said: "O Saint, I yearn +The three-pathed Gangá's tale to learn." + + Thus urged, the sage recounted both +The birth of Gangá and her growth: +"The mighty hill with metals stored, +Himálaya, is the mountains' lord, +The father of a lovely pair +Of daughters fairest of the fair: +Their mother, offspring of the will +Of Meru, everlasting hill, +Mená, Himálaya's darling, graced +With beauty of her dainty waist. +Gangá was elder-born: then came +The fair one known by Umá's name. +Then all the Gods of heaven, in need +Of Gangá's help their vows to speed, +To great Himálaya came and prayed +The mountain King to yield the maid. +He, not regardless of the weal +Of the three worlds, with holy zeal +His daughter to the Immortals gave, +Gangá whose waters cleanse and save, +Who roams at pleasure, fair and free, +Purging all sinners, to the sea. +The three-pathed Gangá thus obtained, +The Gods their heavenly homes regained. +Long time the sister Umá passed +In vows austere and rigid fast, +And the king gave the devotee +Immortal Rudra's(180) bride to be, +Matching with that unequalled Lord +His Umá through the worlds adored. +So now a glorious station fills +Each daughter of the King of Hills: +One honoured as the noblest stream, +One mid the Goddesses supreme. +Thus Gangá, King Himálaya's child, +The heavenly river, undefiled, +Rose bearing with her to the sky +Her waves that bless and purify." + +[I am compelled to omit Cantos XXXVII and XXXVIII, THE GLORY OF UMÁ, and +THE BIRTH OF KÁRTIKEYA, as both in subject and language offensive to +modern taste. They will be found in Schlegel's Latin translation.] + + + + +Canto XXXIX. The Sons Of Sagar. + + +The saint in accents sweet and clear +Thus told his tale for Ráma's ear, +And thus anew the holy man +A legend to the prince began: +"There reigned a pious monarch o'er +Ayodhyá in the days of yore: +Sagar his name: no child had he, +And children much he longed to see. +His honoured consort, fair of face, +Sprang from Vidarbha's royal race, +Kesini, famed from early youth +For piety and love of truth. +Aríshtanemi's daughter fair, +With whom no maiden might compare +In beauty, though the earth is wide, +Sumati, was his second bride. +With his two queens afar he went, +And weary days in penance spent, +Fervent, upon Himálaya's hill +Where springs the stream called Bhrigu' rill. +Nor did he fail that saint to please +With his devout austerities. +And, when a hundred years had fled, +Thus the most truthful Bhrigu said: +"From thee, O Sagar, blameless King, +A mighty host of sons shall spring, +And thou shalt win a glorious name +Which none, O Chief, but thou shall claim. +One of thy queens a son shall bear, +Maintainer of thy race and heir; +And of the other there shall be +Sons sixty thousand born to thee." + + Thus as he spake, with one accord, +To win the grace of that high lord, +The queens, with palms together laid, +In humble supplication prayed: +"Which queen, O Bráhman, of the pair, +The many, or the one shall bear? +Most eager, Lord, are we to know, +And as thou sayest be it so." +With his sweet speech the saint replied: +"Yourselves, O Queens, the choice decide. +Your own discretion freely use +Which shall the one or many choose: +One shall the race and name uphold, +The host be famous, strong, and bold. +Which will have which?" Then Kesini +The mother of one heir would be. +Sumati, sister of the king(181) +Of all the birds that ply the wing, +To that illustrious Bráhman sued +That she might bear the multitude +Whose fame throughout the world should sound +For mighty enterprise renowned. +Around the saint the monarch went, +Bowing his head, most reverent. +Then with his wives, with willing feet, +Resought his own imperial seat. +Time passed. The elder consort bare +A son called Asamanj, the heir. +Then Sumati, the younger, gave +Birth to a gourd,(182) O hero brave, +Whose rind, when burst and cleft in two, +Gave sixty thousand babes to view. +All these with care the nurses laid +In jars of oil; and there they stayed, +Till, youthful age and strength complete, +Forth speeding from each dark retreat, +All peers in valour, years, and might, +The sixty thousand came to light. +Prince Asamanj, brought up with care, +Scourge of his foes, was made the heir. +But liegemen's boys he used to cast +To Sarjú's waves that hurried past, +Laughing the while in cruel glee +Their dying agonies to see. +This wicked prince who aye withstood +The counsel of the wise and good, +Who plagued the people in his hate, +His father banished from the state. +His son, kind-spoken, brave, and tall, +Was Ansumán, beloved of all. + + Long years flew by. The king decreed +To slay a sacrificial steed. +Consulting with his priestly band +He vowed the rite his soul had planned, +And, Veda skilled, by their advice +Made ready for the sacrifice. + + + + +Canto XL. The Cleaving Of The Earth. + + +The hermit ceased: the tale was done: +Then in a transport Raghu's son +Again addressed the ancient sire +Resplendent as a burning fire: +"O holy man, I fain would hear +The tale repeated full and clear +How he from whom my sires descend +Brought the great rite to happy end." +The hermit answered with a smile: +"Then listen, son of Raghu, while +My legendary tale proceeds +To tell of high-souled Sagar's deeds. +Within the spacious plain that lies +From where Himálaya's heights arise +To where proud Vindhya's rival chain +Looks down upon the subject plain-- +A land the best for rites declared(183)-- +His sacrifice the king prepared. +And Ansumán the prince--for so +Sagar advised--with ready bow +Was borne upon a mighty car +To watch the steed who roamed afar. +But Indra, monarch of the skies, +Veiling his form in demon guise, +Came down upon the appointed day +And drove the victim horse away. +Reft of the steed the priests, distressed, +The master of the rite addressed: +"Upon the sacred day by force +A robber takes the victim horse. +Haste, King! now let the thief be slain; +Bring thou the charger back again: +The sacred rite prevented thus +Brings scathe and woe to all of us. +Rise, monarch, and provide with speed +That naught its happy course impede." + + King Sagar in his crowded court +Gave ear unto the priests' report. +He summoned straightway to his side +His sixty thousand sons, and cried: +"Brave sons of mine, I knew not how +These demons are so mighty now: +The priests began the rite so well +All sanctified with prayer and spell. +If in the depths of earth he hide, +Or lurk beneath the ocean's tide, +Pursue, dear sons, the robber's track; +Slay him and bring the charger back. +The whole of this broad earth explore, +Sea-garlanded, from shore to shore: +Yea, dig her up with might and main +Until you see the horse again. +Deep let your searching labour reach, +A league in depth dug out by each. +The robber of our horse pursue, +And please your sire who orders you. +My grandson, I, this priestly train, +Till the steed comes, will here remain." + + Their eager hearts with transport burned +As to their task the heroes turned. +Obedient to their father, they +Through earth's recesses forced their way. +With iron arms' unflinching toil +Each dug a league beneath the soil. +Earth, cleft asunder, groaned in pain, +As emulous they plied amain +Sharp-pointed coulter, pick, and bar, +Hard as the bolts of Indra are. +Then loud the horrid clamour rose +Of monsters dying neath their blows, +Giant and demon, fiend and snake, +That in earth's core their dwelling make. +They dug, in ire that naught could stay, +Through sixty thousand leagues their way, +Cleaving the earth with matchless strength +Till hell itself they reached at length. +Thus digging searched they Jambudvip(184) +With all its hills and mountains steep. +Then a great fear began to shake +The heart of God, bard, fiend, and snake, +And all distressed in spirit went +Before the Sire Omnipotent. +With signs of woe in every face +They sought the mighty Father's grace, +And trembling still and ill at ease +Addressed their Lord in words like these: +"The sons of Sagar, Sire benign, +Pierce the whole earth with mine on mine, +And as their ruthless work they ply +Innumerable creatures die. +"This is the thief," the princes say, +"Who stole our victim steed away. +This marred the rite, and caused us ill, +And so their guiltless blood they spill." + + + + +Canto XLI. Kapil. + + +The father lent a gracious ear +And listened to their tale of fear, +And kindly to the Gods replied +Whom woe and death had terrified: +"The wisest Vásudeva,(185) who +The Immortals' foe, fierce Madhu, slew, +Regards broad Earth with love and pride +And guards, in Kapil's form, his bride.(186) +His kindled wrath will quickly fall +On the king's sons and burn them all. +This cleaving of the earth his eye +Foresaw in ages long gone by: +He knew with prescient soul the fate +That Sagar's children should await." + + The Three-and-thirty,(187) freed from fear, +Sought their bright homes with hopeful cheer. +Still rose the great tempestuous sound +As Sagar's children pierced the ground. +When thus the whole broad earth was cleft, +And not a spot unsearched was left, +Back to their home the princes sped, +And thus unto their father said: +"We searched the earth from side to side, +While countless hosts of creatures died. +Our conquering feet in triumph trod +On snake and demon, fiend and God; +But yet we failed, with all our toil, +To find the robber and the spoil. +What can we more? If more we can, +Devise, O King, and tell thy plan." + + His children's speech King Sagar heard, +And answered thus, to anger stirred: +"Dig on, and ne'er your labour stay +Till through earth's depths you force your way. +Then smite the robber dead, and bring +The charger back with triumphing." +The sixty thousand chiefs obeyed: +Deep through the earth their way they made. +Deep as they dug and deeper yet +The immortal elephant they met, +Famed Vírúpáksha(188) vast of size, +Upon whose head the broad earth lies: +The mighty beast who earth sustains +With shaggy hills and wooded plains. +When, with the changing moon, distressed, +And longing for a moment's rest, +His mighty head the monster shakes, +Earth to the bottom reels and quakes. +Around that warder strong and vast +With reverential steps they passed. +Nor, when the honour due was paid, +Their downward search through earth delayed. +But turning from the east aside +Southward again their task they plied. +There Mahápadma held his place, +The best of all his mighty race, +Like some huge hill, of monstrous girth, +Upholding on his head the earth. +When the vast beast the princes saw, +They marvelled and were filled with awe. +The sons of high-souled Sagar round +That elephant in reverence wound. +Then in the western region they +With might unwearied cleft their way. +There saw they with astonisht eyes +Saumanas, beast of mountain size. +Round him with circling steps they went +With greetings kind and reverent. + + On, on--no thought of rest or stay-- +They reached the seat of Soma's sway. +There saw they Bhadra, white as snow, +With lucky marks that fortune show, +Bearing the earth upon his head. +Round him they paced with solemn tread, +And honoured him with greetings kind, +Then downward yet their way they mined. +They gained the tract 'twixt east and north +Whose fame is ever blazoned forth,(189) +And by a storm of rage impelled, +Digging through earth their course they held. + + Then all the princes, lofty-souled, +Of wondrous vigour, strong and bold, +Saw Vásudeva(190) standing there +In Kapil's form he loved to wear, +And near the everlasting God +The victim charger cropped the sod. +They saw with joy and eager eyes +The fancied robber and the prize, +And on him rushed the furious band +Crying aloud, Stand, villain! stand! +"Avaunt! avaunt!" great Kapil cried, +His bosom flusht with passion's tide; +Then by his might that proud array +All scorcht to heaps of ashes lay.(191) + + + + +Canto XLII. Sagar's Sacrifice. + + +Then to the prince his grandson, bright +With his own fame's unborrowed light, +King Sagar thus began to say, +Marvelling at his sons' delay: +"Thou art a warrior skilled and bold, +Match for the mighty men of old. +Now follow on thine uncles' course +And track the robber of the horse. +To guard thee take thy sword and bow, +for huge and strong are beasts below. +There to the reverend reverence pay, +And kill the foes who check thy way; +Then turn successful home and see +My sacrifice complete through thee." + + Obedient to the high-souled lord +Grasped Ansumán his bow and sword, +And hurried forth the way to trace +With youth and valour's eager pace. +On sped he by the path he found +Dug by his uncles underground. +The warder elephant he saw +Whose size and strength pass Nature's law, +Who bears the world's tremendous weight, +Whom God, fiend, giant venerate, +Bird, serpent, and each flitting shade, +To him the honour meet he paid +With circling steps and greeting due, +And further prayed him, if he knew, +To tell him of his uncles' weal, +And who had dared the horse to steal. +To him in war and council tried +The warder elephant replied: +"Thou, son of Asamanj, shalt lead +In triumph back the rescued steed." + + As to each warder beast he came +And questioned all, his words the same, +The honoured youth with gentle speech +Drew eloquent reply from each, +That fortune should his steps attend, +And with the horse he home should wend. +Cheered with the grateful answer, he +Passed on with step more light and free, +And reached with careless heart the place +Where lay in ashes Sagar's race. +Then sank the spirit of the chief +Beneath that shock of sudden grief, +And with a bitter cry of woe +He mourned his kinsmen fallen so. +He saw, weighed down by woe and care, +The victim charger roaming there. +Yet would the pious chieftain fain +Oblations offer to the slain: +But, needing water for the rite, +He looked and there was none in sight +His quick eye searching all around +The uncle of his kinsmen found, +King Garud, best beyond compare +Of birds who wing the fields of air. +Then thus unto the weeping man +The son of Vinatá(192) began: +"Grieve not, O hero, for their fall +Who died a death approved of all. +Of mighty strength, they met their fate +By Kapil's hand whom none can mate. +Pour forth for them no earthly wave, +A holier flood their spirits crave. +If, daughter of the Lord of Snow, +Gangá would turn her stream below, +Her waves that cleanse all mortal stain +Would wash their ashes pure again. +Yea, when her flood whom all revere +Rolls o'er the dust that moulders here, +The sixty thousand, freed from sin, +A home in Indra's heaven shall win. +Go, and with ceaseless labour try +To draw the Goddess from the sky. +Return, and with thee take the steed; +So shall thy grandsire's rite succeed." + + Prince Ansumán the strong and brave +Followed the rede Suparna(193) gave. +The glorious hero took the horse, +And homeward quickly bent his course. +Straight to the anxious king he hied, +Whom lustral rites had purified, +The mournful story to unfold +And all the king of birds had told. +The tale of woe the monarch heard, +Nor longer was the rite deferred: +With care and just observance he +Accomplished all, as texts decree. +The rites performed, with brighter fame, +Mighty in counsel, home he came. +He longed to bring the river down, +But found no plan his wish to crown. +He pondered long with anxious thought +But saw no way to what he sought. +Thus thirty thousand years he spent, +And then to heaven the monarch went. + + + + +Canto XLIII. Bhagírath. + + +When Sagar thus had bowed to fate, +The lords and commons of the state +Approved with ready heart and will +Prince Ansumán his throne to fill. +He ruled, a mighty king, unblamed, +Sire of Dilípa justly famed. +To him, his child and worthy heir, +The king resigned his kingdom's care, +And on Himálaya's pleasant side +His task austere of penance plied. +Bright as a God in clear renown +He planned to bring pure Gangá down. +There on his fruitless hope intent +Twice sixteen thousand years he spent, +And in the grove of hermits stayed +Till bliss in heaven his rites repaid. +Dilípa then, the good and great, +Soon as he learnt his kinsmen's fate, +Bowed down by woe, with troubled mind, +Pondering long no cure could find. +"How can I bring," the mourner sighed, +"To cleanse their dust, the heavenly tide? +How can I give them rest, and save +Their spirits with the offered wave?" +Long with this thought his bosom skilled +In holy discipline was filled. +A son was born, Bhagírath named, +Above all men for virtue famed. +Dilípa many a rite ordained, +And thirty thousand seasons reigned. +But when no hope the king could see +His kinsmen from their woe to free, +The lord of men, by sickness tried, +Obeyed the law of fate, and died; +He left the kingdom to his son, +And gained the heaven his deeds had won. +The good Bhagírath, royal sage, +Had no fair son to cheer his age. +He, great in glory, pure in will, +Longing for sons was childless still. +Then on one wish, one thought intent, +Planning the heavenly stream's descent, +Leaving his ministers the care +And burden of his state to bear, +Dwelling in far Gokarna(194) he +Engaged in long austerity. +With senses checked, with arms upraised, +Five fires(195) around and o'er him blazed. +Each weary month the hermit passed +Breaking but once his awful fast. +In winter's chill the brook his bed, +In rain, the clouds to screen his head. +Thousands of years he thus endured +Till Brahmá's favour was assured, +And the high Lord of living things +Looked kindly on his sufferings. +With trooping Gods the Sire came near +The king who plied his task austere: +"Blest Monarch, of a glorious race, +Thy fervent rites have won my grace. +Well hast thou wrought thine awful task: +Some boon in turn, O Hermit, ask." + + Bhagírath, rich in glory's light, +The hero with the arm of might, +Thus to the Lord of earth and sky +Raised suppliant hands and made reply: +"If the great God his favour deigns, +And my long toil its fruit obtains, +Let Sagar's sons receive from me +Libations that they long to see. +Let Gangá with her holy wave +The ashes of the heroes lave, +That so my kinsmen may ascend +To heavenly bliss that ne'er shall end. +And give, I pray, O God, a son, +Nor let my house be all undone. +Sire of the worlds! be this the grace +Bestowed upon Ikshváku's race." + + The Sire, when thus the king had prayed, +In sweet kind words his answer made. +"High, high thy thought and wishes are, +Bhagírath of the mighty car! +Ikshváku's line is blest in thee, +And as thou prayest it shall be. +Gangá, whose waves in Swarga(196) flow, +Is daughter of the Lord of Snow. +Win Siva that his aid be lent +To hold her in her mid descent, +For earth alone will never bear +Those torrents hurled from upper air; +And none may hold her weight but He, +The Trident wielding deity." +Thus having said, the Lord supreme +Addressed him to the heavenly stream; +And then with Gods and Maruts(197) went +To heaven above the firmament. + + + + +Canto XLIV. The Descent Of Gangá. + + +The Lord of life the skies regained: +The fervent king a year remained +With arms upraised, refusing rest +While with one toe the earth he pressed, +Still as a post, with sleepless eye, +The air his food, his roof the sky. +The year had past. Then Umá's lord,(198) +King of creation, world adored, +Thus spoke to great Bhagírath: "I, +Well pleased thy wish will gratify, +And on my head her waves shall fling +The daughter of the Mountains' King!" + +He stood upon the lofty crest + That crowns the Lord of Snow, +And bade the river of the Blest + Descend on earth below. +Himálaya's child, adored of all, + The haughty mandate heard, +And her proud bosom, at the call, + With furious wrath was stirred. +Down from her channel in the skies + With awful might she sped +With a giant's rush, in a giant's size, + On Siva's holy head. +"He calls me," in her wrath she cried, + "And all my flood shall sweep +And whirl him in its whelming tide + To hell's profoundest deep." +He held the river on his head, + And kept her wandering, where, +Dense as Himálaya's woods, were spread + The tangles of his hair. +No way to earth she found, ashamed, + Though long and sore she strove, +Condemned, until her pride were tamed, + Amid his locks to rove. +There, many lengthening seasons through, + The wildered river ran: +Bhagírath saw it, and anew + His penance dire began. +Then Siva, for the hermit's sake, + Bade her long wanderings end, +And sinking into Vindu's lake + Her weary waves descend. +From Gangá, by the God set free, + Seven noble rivers came; +Hládiní, Pávaní, and she + Called Naliní by name: +These rolled their lucid waves along + And sought the eastern side. +Suchakshu, Sítá fair and strong, + And Sindhu's mighty tide--(199) +These to the region of the west + With joyful waters sped: +The seventh, the brightest and the best, + Flowed where Bhagírath led. +On Siva's head descending first + A rest the torrents found: +Then down in all their might they burst + And roared along the ground. +On countless glittering scales the beam + Of rosy morning flashed, +Where fish and dolphins through the stream + Fallen and falling dashed. +Then bards who chant celestial lays + And nymphs of heavenly birth +Flocked round upon that flood to gaze + That streamed from sky to earth. +The Gods themselves from every sphere, + Incomparably bright, +Borne in their golden cars drew near + To see the wondrous sight. +The cloudless sky was all aflame + With the light of a hundred suns +Where'er the shining chariots came + That bore those holy ones. +So flashed the air with crested snakes + And fish of every hue +As when the lightning's glory breaks + Through fields of summer blue. +And white foam-clouds and silver spray + Were wildly tossed on high, +Like swans that urge their homeward way + Across the autumn sky. +Now ran the river calm and clear + With current strong and deep: +Now slowly broadened to a mere, + Or scarcely seemed to creep. +Now o'er a length of sandy plain + Her tranquil course she held; +Now rose her waves and sank again, + By refluent waves repelled. +So falling first on Siva's head, +Thence rushing to their earthly bed, +In ceaseless fall the waters streamed, +And pure with holy lustre gleamed. +Then every spirit, sage, and bard, +Condemned to earth by sentence hard, +Pressed eagerly around the tide +That Siva's touch had sanctified. +Then they whom heavenly doom had hurled, +Accursed, to this lower world, +Touched the pure wave, and freed from sin +Resought the skies and entered in. +And all the world was glad, whereon +The glorious water flowed and shone, +For sin and stain were banished thence +By the sweet river's influence. +First, in a car of heavenly frame, +The royal saint of deathless name, +Bhagírath, very glorious rode, +And after him fair Gangá flowed. +God, sage, and bard, the chief in place +Of spirits and the Nága race, +Nymph, giant, fiend, in long array +Sped where Bhagírath led the way; +And all the hosts the flood that swim +Followed the stream that followed him. +Where'er the great Bhagírath led, +There ever glorious Gangá fled, +The best of floods, the rivers' queen, +Whose waters wash the wicked clean. + + It chanced that Jahnu, great and good, +Engaged with holy offerings stood; +The river spread her waves around +Flooding his sacrificial ground. +The saint in anger marked her pride, +And at one draught her stream he dried. +Then God, and sage, and bard, afraid, +To noble high-souled Jahnu prayed, +And begged that he would kindly deem +His own dear child that holy stream. +Moved by their suit, he soothed their fears +And loosed her waters from his ears. +Hence Gangá through the world is styled +Both Jáhnavi and Jahnu's child. +Then onward still she followed fast, +And reached the great sea bank at last. +Thence deep below her way she made +To end those rites so long delayed. +The monarch reached the Ocean's side, +And still behind him Gangá hied. +He sought the depths which open lay +Where Sagar's sons had dug their way. +So leading through earth's nether caves +The river's purifying waves, +Over his kinsmen's dust the lord +His funeral libation poured. +Soon as the flood their dust bedewed, +Their spirits gained beatitude, +And all in heavenly bodies dressed +Rose to the skies' eternal rest. + + Then thus to King Bhagírath said +Brahmá, when, coming at the head +Of all his bright celestial train, +He saw those spirits freed from stain: +"Well done! great Prince of men, well done! +Thy kinsmen bliss and heaven have won. +The sons of Sagar mighty-souled, +Are with the Blest, as Gods, enrolled, +Long as the Ocean's flood shall stand +Upon the border of the land, +So long shall Sagar's sons remain, +And, godlike, rank in heaven retain. +Gangá thine eldest child shall be, +Called from thy name Bhágirathí; +Named also--for her waters fell +From heaven and flow through earth and hell-- +Tripathagá, stream of the skies, +Because three paths she glorifies. +And, mighty King, 'tis given thee now +To free thee and perform thy vow. +No longer, happy Prince, delay +Drink-offerings to thy kin to pay. +For this the holiest Sagar sighed, +But mourned the boon he sought denied. +Then Ansumán, dear Prince! although +No brighter name the world could show, +Strove long the heavenly flood to gain +To visit earth, but strove in vain. +Nor was she by the sages' peer, +Blest with all virtues, most austere, +Thy sire Dilípa, hither brought, +Though with fierce prayers the boon he sought. +But thou, O King, earned success, +And won high fame which God will bless. +Through thee, O victor of thy foes, +On earth this heavenly Gangá flows, +And thou hast gained the meed divine +That waits on virtue such as thine. +Now in her ever holy wave +Thyself, O best of heroes, lave: +So shalt thou, pure from every sin, +The blessed fruit of merit win. +Now for thy kin who died of yore +The meet libations duly pour. +Above the heavens I now ascend: +Depart, and bliss thy steps attend." + + Thus to the mighty king who broke +His foemens' might, Lord Brahmá spoke, +And with his Gods around him rose +To his own heaven of blest repose. +The royal sage no more delayed, +But, the libation duly paid, +Home to his regal city hied +With water cleansed and purified. +There ruled he his ancestral state, +Best of all men, most fortunate. +And all the people joyed again +In good Bhagírath's gentle reign. +Rich, prosperous, and blest were they, +And grief and sickness fled away. +Thus, Ráma, I at length have told +How Gangá came from heaven of old. +Now, for the evening passes swift, +I wish thee each auspicious gift. +This story of the flood's descent +Will give--for 'tis most excellent-- +Wealth, purity, fame, length of days, +And to the skies its hearers raise" + + + + +Canto XLV. The Quest Of The Amrit. + + +High and more high their wonder rose +As the strange story reached its close, +And thus, with Lakshman, Ráma, best +Of Raghu's sons, the saint addressed: +"Most wondrous is the tale which thou +Hast told of heavenly Gangá, how +From realms above descending she +Flowed through the land and filled the sea. +In thinking o'er what thou hast said +The night has like a moment fled, +Whose hours in musing have been spent +Upon thy words most excellent: +So much, O holy Sage, thy lore +Has charmed us with this tale of yore." + + Day dawned. The morning rites were done +And the victorious Raghu's son +Addressed the sage in words like these, +Rich in his long austerities: +"The night is past: the morn is clear; +Told is the tale so good to hear: +Now o'er that river let us go, +Three-pathed, the best of all that flow. +This boat stands ready on the shore +To bear the holy hermits o'er, +Who of thy coming warned, in haste, +The barge upon the bank have placed." + + And Kusik's son approved his speech, +And moving to the sandy beach, +Placed in the boat the hermit band, +And reached the river's further strand. +On the north bank their feet they set, +And greeted all the saints they met. +On Gangá's shore they lighted down, +And saw Visálá's lovely town. +Thither, the princes by his side, +The best of holy hermits hied. +It was a town exceeding fair +That might with heaven itself compare. +Then, suppliant palm to palm applied, +Famed Ráma asked his holy guide: +"O best of hermits, say what race +Of monarchs rules this lovely place. +Dear master, let my prayer prevail, +For much I long to hear the tale." +Moved by his words, the saintly man +Visálá's ancient tale began: +"List, Ráma, list, with closest heed +The tale of Indra's wondrous deed, +And mark me as I truly tell +What here in ancient days befell. +Ere Krita's famous Age(200) had fled, +Strong were the sons of Diti(201) bred; +And Aditi's brave children too +Were very mighty, good, and true. +The rival brothers fierce and bold +Were sons of Kasyap lofty-souled. +Of sister mothers born, they vied, +Brood against brood, in jealous pride. +Once, as they say, band met with band, +And, joined in awful council, planned +To live, unharmed by age and time, +Immortal in their youthful prime. +Then this was, after due debate, +The counsel of the wise and great, +To churn with might the milky sea(202) +The life-bestowing drink to free. +This planned, they seized the Serpent King, +Vásuki, for their churning-string, +And Mandar's mountain for their pole, +And churned with all their heart and soul. +As thus, a thousand seasons through, +This way and that the snake they drew, +Biting the rocks, each tortured head, +A very deadly venom shed. +Thence, bursting like a mighty flame, +A pestilential poison came, +Consuming, as it onward ran, +The home of God, and fiend, and man. +Then all the suppliant Gods in fear +To Sankar,(203) mighty lord, drew near. +To Rudra, King of Herds, dismayed, +"Save us, O save us, Lord!" they prayed. +Then Vishnu, bearing shell, and mace, +And discus, showed his radiant face, +And thus addressed in smiling glee +The Trident wielding deity: +"What treasure first the Gods upturn +From troubled Ocean, as they churn, +Should--for thou art the eldest--be +Conferred, O best of Gods, on thee. +Then come, and for thy birthright's sake, +This venom as thy first fruits take." +He spoke, and vanished from their sight, +When Siva saw their wild affright, +And heard his speech by whom is borne +The mighty bow of bending horn,(204) +The poisoned flood at once he quaffed +As 'twere the Amrit's heavenly draught. +Then from the Gods departing went +Siva, the Lord pre-eminent. +The host of Gods and Asurs still +Kept churning with one heart and will. +But Mandar's mountain, whirling round, +Pierced to the depths below the ground. +Then Gods and bards in terror flew +To him who mighty Madhu slew. +"Help of all beings! more than all, +The Gods on thee for aid may call. +Ward off, O mighty-armed! our fate, +And bear up Mandar's threatening weight." +Then Vishnu, as their need was sore, +The semblance of a tortoise wore, +And in the bed of Ocean lay +The mountain on his back to stay. +Then he, the soul pervading all, +Whose locks in radiant tresses fall, +One mighty arm extended still, +And grasped the summit of the hill. +So ranged among the Immortals, he +Joined in the churning of the sea. + + A thousand years had reached their close, +When calmly from the ocean rose +The gentle sage(205) with staff and can, +Lord of the art of healing man. +Then as the waters foamed and boiled, +As churning still the Immortals toiled, +Of winning face and lovely frame, +Forth sixty million fair ones came. +Born of the foam and water, these +Were aptly named Apsarases.(206) +Each had her maids. The tongue would fail-- +So vast the throng--to count the tale. +But when no God or Titan wooed +A wife from all that multitude, +Refused by all, they gave their love +In common to the Gods above. +Then from the sea still vext and wild +Rose Surá,(207) Varun's maiden child. +A fitting match she sought to find: +But Diti's sons her love declined, +Their kinsmen of the rival brood +To the pure maid in honour sued. +Hence those who loved that nymph so fair +The hallowed name of Suras bear. +And Asurs are the Titan crowd +Her gentle claims who disallowed. +Then from the foamy sea was freed +Uchchaihsravas,(208) the generous steed, +And Kaustubha, of gems the gem,(209) +And Soma, Moon God, after them. + + At length when many a year had fled, +Up floated, on her lotus bed, +A maiden fair and tender-eyed, +In the young flush of beauty's pride. +She shone with pearl and golden sheen, +And seals of glory stamped her queen, +On each round arm glowed many a gem, +On her smooth brows, a diadem. +Rolling in waves beneath her crown +The glory of her hair flowed down, +Pearls on her neck of price untold, +The lady shone like burnisht gold. +Queen of the Gods, she leapt to land, +A lotus in her perfect hand, +And fondly, of the lotus-sprung, +To lotus-bearing Vishnu clung. +Her Gods above and men below +As Beauty's Queen and Fortune know.(210) +Gods, Titans, and the minstrel train +Still churned and wrought the troubled main. +At length the prize so madly sought, +The Amrit, to their sight was brought. +For the rich spoil, 'twixt these and those +A fratricidal war arose, +And, host 'gainst host in battle, set, +Aditi's sons and Diti's met. +United, with the giants' aid, +Their fierce attack the Titans made, +And wildly raged for many a day +That universe-astounding fray. +When wearied arms were faint to strike, +And ruin threatened all alike, +Vishnu, with art's illusive aid, +The Amrit from their sight conveyed. +That Best of Beings smote his foes +Who dared his deathless arm oppose: +Yea, Vishnu, all-pervading God, +Beneath his feet the Titans trod +Aditi's race, the sons of light, +slew Diti's brood in cruel fight. +Then town-destroying(211) Indra gained +His empire, and in glory reigned +O'er the three worlds with bard and sage +Rejoicing in his heritage. + + + + +Canto XLVI. Diti's Hope. + + +But Diti, when her sons were slain, +Wild with a childless mother's pain, +To Kasyap spake, Marícha's son, +Her husband: "O thou glorious one! +Dead are the children, mine no more, +The mighty sons to thee I bore. +Long fervour's meed, I crave a boy +Whose arm may Indra's life destroy. +The toil and pain my care shall be: +To bless my hope depends on thee. +Give me a mighty son to slay +Fierce Indra, gracious lord! I pray." + + Then glorious Kasyap thus replied +To Diti, as she wept and sighed: +"Thy prayer is heard, dear saint! Remain +Pure from all spot, and thou shalt gain +A son whose arm shall take the life +Of Indra in the battle strife. +For full a thousand years endure +Free from all stain, supremely pure; +Then shall thy son and mine appear, +Whom the three worlds shall serve with fear." +These words the glorious Kasyap said, +Then gently stroked his consort's head, +Blessed her, and bade a kind adieu, +And turned him to his rites anew. +Soon as her lord had left her side, +Her bosom swelled with joy and pride. +She sought the shade of holy boughs, +And there began her awful vows. +While yet she wrought her rites austere, +Indra, unbidden, hastened near, +With sweet observance tending her, +A reverential minister. +Wood, water, fire, and grass he brought, +Sweet roots and woodland fruit he sought, +And all her wants, the Thousand-eyed, +With never-failing care, supplied, +With tender love and soft caress +Removing pain and weariness. + + When, of the thousand years ordained, +Ten only unfulfilled remained, +Thus to her son, the Thousand-eyed, +The Goddess in her triumph cried: +"Best of the mighty! there remain +But ten short years of toil and pain; +These years of penance soon will flee, +And a new brother thou shalt see. +Him for thy sake I'll nobly breed, +And lust of war his soul shall feed; +Then free from care and sorrow thou +Shalt see the worlds before him bow."(212) + + + + +Canto XLVII. Sumati. + + +Thus to Lord Indra, Thousand-eyed, +Softly beseeching Diti sighed. +When but a blighted bud was left, +Which Indra's hand in seven had cleft:(213) +"No fault, O Lord of Gods, is thine; +The blame herein is only mine. +But for one grace I fain would pray, +As thou hast reft this hope away. +This bud, O Indra, which a blight +Has withered ere it saw the light-- +From this may seven fair spirits rise +To rule the regions of the skies. +Be theirs through heaven's unbounded space +On shoulders of the winds to race, +My children, drest in heavenly forms, +Far-famed as Maruts, Gods of storms. +One God to Brahmá's sphere assign, +Let one, O Indra, watch o'er thine; +And ranging through the lower air, +The third the name of Váyu(214) bear. +Gods let the four remaining be, +And roam through space, obeying thee." + + The Town-destroyer, Thousand-eyed, +Who smote fierce Bali till he died, +Joined suppliant hands, and thus replied: +"Thy children heavenly forms shall wear; +The names devised by thee shall bear, +And, Maruts called by my decree, +Shall Amrit drink and wait on me. +From fear and age and sickness freed, +Through the three worlds their wings shall speed." + + Thus in the hermits' holy shade +Mother and son their compact made, +And then, as fame relates, content, +Home to the happy skies they went. +This is the spot--so men have told-- +Where Lord Mahendra(215) dwelt of old, +This is the blessed region where +His votaress mother claimed his care. +Here gentle Alambúshá bare +To old Ikshváku, king and sage, +Visála, glory of his age, +By whom, a monarch void of guilt, +Was this fair town Visálá built. +His son was Hemachandra, still +Renowned for might and warlike skill. +From him the great Suchandra came; +His son, Dhúmrásva, dear to fame. +Next followed royal Srinjay; then +Famed Sahadeva, lord of men. +Next came Kusásva, good and mild, +Whose son was Somadatta styled, +And Sumati, his heir, the peer +Of Gods above, now governs here. +And ever through Ikshváku's grace, +Visálá's kings, his noble race, +Are lofty-souled, and blest with length +Of days, with virtue, and with strength. +This night, O prince, we here will sleep; +And when the day begins to peep, +Our onward way will take with thee, +The king of Míthilá to see." + + Then Sumati, the king, aware +Of Visvámitra's advent there, +Came quickly forth with honour meet +The lofty-minded sage to greet. +Girt with his priest and lords the king +Did low obeisance, worshipping, +With suppliant hands, with head inclined, +Thus spoke he after question kind; +"Since thou hast deigned to bless my sight, + And grace awhile thy servant's seat, +High fate is mine, great Anchorite, + And none may with my bliss compete." + + + + +Canto XLVIII. Indra And Ahalyá + + +When mutual courtesies had past, +Visálá's ruler spoke at last: +"These princely youths, O Sage, who vie +In might with children of the sky, +Heroic, born for happy fate, +With elephants' or lions' gait, +Bold as the tiger or the bull, +With lotus eyes so large and full, +Armed with the quiver, sword, and bow, +Whose figures like the Asvins(216) show, +Like children of the deathless Powers, +Come freely to these shades of ours,(217)-- +How have they reached on foot this place? +What do they seek, and what their race? +As sun and moon adorn the sky, +This spot the heroes glorify. +Alike in stature, port, and mien, +The same fair form in each is seen," + + He spoke; and at the monarch's call +The best of hermits told him all, +How in the grove with him they dwelt, +And slaughter to the demons dealt. +Then wonder filled the monarch's breast, +Who tended well each royal guest. +Thus entertained, the princely pair +Remained that night and rested there, +And with the morn's returning ray +To Mithilá pursued their way. + + When Janak's lovely city first +Upon their sight, yet distant, burst, +The hermits all with joyful cries +Hailed the fair town that met their eyes. +Then Ráma saw a holy wood, +Close, in the city's neighbourhood, +O'ergrown, deserted, marked by age, +And thus addressed the mighty sage: +"O reverend lord. I long to know +What hermit dwelt here long ago." +Then to the prince his holy guide, +Most eloquent of men, replied: +"O Ráma, listen while I tell +Whose was this grove, and what befell +When in the fury of his rage +The high saint cursed the hermitage. +This was the grove--most lovely then-- +Of Gautam, O thou best of men, +Like heaven itself, most honoured by +The Gods who dwell above the sky. +Here with Ahalyá at his side +His fervid task the ascetic plied. +Years fled in thousands. On a day +It chanced the saint had gone away, +When Town-destroying Indra came, +And saw the beauty of the dame. +The sage's form the God endued, +And thus the fair Ahalyá wooed: +"Love, sweet! should brook no dull delay +But snatch the moments when he may." +She knew him in the saint's disguise, +Lord Indra of the Thousand Eyes, +But touched by love's unholy fire, +She yielded to the God's desire. + + "Now, Lord of Gods!" she whispered, "flee, +From Gautam save thyself and me." +Trembling with doubt and wild with dread +Lord Indra from the cottage fled; +But fleeing in the grove he met +The home-returning anchoret, +Whose wrath the Gods and fiends would shun, +Such power his fervent rites had won. +Fresh from the lustral flood he came, +In splendour like the burning flame, +With fuel for his sacred rites, +And grass, the best of eremites. +The Lord of Gods was sad of cheer +To see the mighty saint so near, +And when the holy hermit spied +In hermit's garb the Thousand-eyed, +He knew the whole, his fury broke +Forth on the sinner as he spoke: + "Because my form thou hast assumed, +And wrought this folly, thou art doomed, +For this my curse to thee shall cling, +Henceforth a sad and sexless thing." + + No empty threat that sentence came, +It chilled his soul and marred his frame, +His might and godlike vigour fled, +And every nerve was cold and dead. + + Then on his wife his fury burst, +And thus the guilty dame he cursed: +"For countless years, disloyal spouse, +Devoted to severest vows, +Thy bed the ashes, air thy food, +Here shalt thou live in solitude. +This lonely grove thy home shall be, +And not an eye thy form shall see. +When Ráma, Dasaratha's child, +Shall seek these shades then drear and wild, +His coming shall remove thy stain, +And make the sinner pure again. +Due honour paid to him, thy guest, +Shall cleanse thy fond and erring breast, +Thee to my side in bliss restore, +And give thy proper shape once more."(218) + + Thus to his guilty wife he said, +Then far the holy Gautam fled, +And on Himálaya's lovely heights +Spent the long years in sternest rites." + + + + +Canto XLIX. Ahalyá Freed. + + +Then Ráma, following still his guide, +Within the grove, with Lakshman, hied, +Her vows a wondrous light had lent +To that illustrious penitent. +He saw the glorious lady, screened +From eye of man, and God, and fiend, +Like some bright portent which the care +Of Brahmá launches through the air, +Designed by his illusive art +To flash a moment and depart: +Or like the flame that leaps on high +To sink involved in smoke and die: +Or like the full moon shining through +The wintry mist, then lost to view: +Or like the sun's reflection, cast +Upon the flood, too bright to last: +So was the glorious dame till then +Removed from Gods' and mortals' ken, +Till--such was Gautam's high decree-- +Prince Ráma came to set her free. + + Then, with great joy that dame to meet, +The sons of Raghu clapped her feet; +And she, remembering Gautam's oath, +With gentle grace received them both; +Then water for their feet she gave, +Guest-gift, and all that strangers crave. + + The prince, of courteous rule aware, +Received, as meet, the lady's care. +Then flowers came down in copious rain, +And moving to the heavenly strain +Of music in the skies that rang, +The nymphs and minstrels danced and sang: +And all the Gods with one glad voice +Praised the great dame, and cried, "Rejoice! +Through fervid rites no more defiled, +But with thy husband reconciled." +Gautam, the holy hermit knew-- +For naught escaped his godlike view-- +That Ráma lodged beneath that shade, +And hasting there his homage paid. +He took Ahalyá to his side, +From sin and folly purified, +And let his new-found consort bear +In his austerities a share. + + Then Ráma, pride of Raghu's race, +Welcomed by Gautam, face to face, +Who every highest honour showed, +To Mithilá pursued his road. + + + + +Canto L. Janak. + + +The sons of Raghu journeyed forth, +Bending their steps 'twixt east and north. +Soon, guided by the sage, they found, +Enclosed, a sacrificial ground. +Then to the best of saints, his guide, +In admiration Ráma cried: + + "The high-souled king no toil has spared, +But nobly for his rite prepared, +How many thousand Bráhmans here, +From every region, far and near, +Well read in holy lore, appear! +How many tents, that sages screen, +With wains in hundreds, here are seen! +Great Bráhman, let us find a place +Where we may stay and rest a space." +The hermit did as Ráma prayed, +And in a spot his lodging made, +Far from the crowd, sequestered, clear, +With copious water flowing near. + + Then Janak, best of kings, aware +Of Visvámitra lodging there, +With Satánanda for his guide-- +The priest on whom he most relied, +His chaplain void of guile and stain-- +And others of his priestly train, +Bearing the gift that greets the guest, +To meet him with all honour pressed. +The saint received with gladsome mind +Each honour and observance kind: +Then of his health he asked the king, +And how his rites were prospering, +Janak, with chaplain and with priest, +Addressed the hermits, chief and least, +Accosting all, in due degree, +With proper words of courtesy. +Then, with his palms together laid, +The king his supplication made: +"Deign, reverend lord, to sit thee down +With these good saints of high renown." +Then sate the chief of hermits there, +Obedient to the monarch's prayer. +Chaplain and priest, and king and peer, +Sate in their order, far or near. +Then thus the king began to say: +"The Gods have blest my rite to-day, +And with the sight of thee repaid +The preparations I have made. +Grateful am I, so highly blest, +That thou, of saints the holiest, +Hast come, O Bráhman, here with all +These hermits to the festival. +Twelve days, O Bráhman Sage, remain-- +For so the learned priests ordain-- +And then, O heir of Kusik's name, +The Gods will come their dues to claim." + + With looks that testified delight +Thus spake he to the anchorite, +Then with his suppliant hands upraised, +He asked, as earnestly he gazed: +"These princely youths, O Sage, who vie +In might with children of the sky, +Heroic, born for happy fate, +With elephants' or lions' gait, +Bold as the tiger and the bull, +With lotus eyes so large and full, +Armed with the quiver, sword and bow, +Whose figures like the Asvins show, +Like children of the heavenly Powers, +Come freely to these shades of ours,-- +How have they reached on foot this place? +What do they seek, and what their race? +As sun and moon adorn the sky, +This spot the heroes glorify: +Alike in stature, port, and mien, +The same fair form in each is seen."(219) + + Thus spoke the monarch, lofty-souled, +The saint, of heart unfathomed, told +How, sons of Dasaratha, they +Accompanied his homeward way, +How in the hermitage they dwelt, +And slaughter to the demons dealt: +Their journey till the spot they neared +Whence fair Visálá's towers appeared: +Ahalyá seen and freed from taint; +Their meeting with her lord the saint; +And how they thither came, to know +The virtue of the famous bow. + + Thus Visvámitra spoke the whole +To royal Janak, great of soul, +And when this wondrous tale was o'er, +The glorious hermit said no more. + + + + +Canto LI. Visvámitra. + + +Wise Visvámitra's tale was done: +Then sainted Gautam's eldest son, +Great Satánanda, far-renowned, +Whom long austerities had crowned +With glory--as the news he heard +The down upon his body stirred,-- +Filled full of wonder at the sight +Of Ráma, felt supreme delight. +When Satánanda saw the pair +Of youthful princes seated there, +He turned him to the holy man +Who sate at ease, and thus began: +"And didst thou, mighty Sage, in truth +Show clearly to this royal youth +My mother, glorious far and wide, +Whom penance-rites have sanctified? +And did my glorious mother--she, +Heiress of noble destiny-- +Serve her great guest with woodland store, +Whom all should honour evermore? +Didst thou the tale to Ráma tell +Of what in ancient days befell, +The sin, the misery, and the shame +Of guilty God and faithless dame? +And, O thou best of hermits, say, +Did Ráma's healing presence stay +Her trial? was the wife restored +Again to him, my sire and lord? +Say, Hermit, did that sire of mine +Receive her with a soul benign, +When long austerities in time +Had cleansed her from the taint of crime? +And, son of Kusik, let me know, +Did my great-minded father show +Honour to Ráma, and regard, +Before he journeyed hitherward?" +The hermit with attentive ear +Marked all the questions of the seer: +To him for eloquence far-famed, +His eloquent reply he framed: +"Yea, 'twas my care no task to shun, +And all I had to do was done; +As Renuká and Bhrigu's child, +The saint and dame were reconciled." + + When the great sage had thus replied, +To Ráma Satánanda cried: +"A welcome visit, Prince, is thine, +Thou scion of King Raghu's line. +With him to guide thy way aright, +This sage invincible in might, +This Bráhman sage, most glorious-bright, +By long austerities has wrought +A wondrous deed, exceeding thought: +Thou knowest well, O strong of arm, +This sure defence from scathe and harm. +None, Ráma, none is living now +In all the earth more blest than thou, +That thou hast won a saint so tried +In fervid rites thy life to guide. +Now listen, Prince, while I relate +His lofty deeds and wondrous fate. +He was a monarch pious-souled. +His foemen in the dust he rolled; +Most learned, prompt at duty's claim, +His people's good his joy and aim. + + Of old the Lord of Life gave birth +To mighty Kusa, king of earth. +His son was Kusanábha, strong, +Friend of the right, the foe of wrong. +Gádhi, whose fame no time shall dim, +Heir of his throne was born to him, +And Visvámitra, Gádhi's heir, +Governed the land with kingly care. +While years unnumbered rolled away +The monarch reigned with equal sway. +At length, assembling many a band, +He led his warriors round the land-- +Complete in tale, a mighty force, +Cars, elephants, and foot, and horse. +Through cities, groves, and floods he passed, +O'er lofty hills, through regions vast. +He reached Vasishtha's pure abode, +Where trees, and flowers, and creepers glowed, +Where troops of sylvan creatures fed; +Which saints and angels visited. +Gods, fauns, and bards of heavenly race, +And spirits, glorified the place; +The deer their timid ways forgot, +And holy Bráhmans thronged the spot. +Bright in their souls, like fire, were these, +Made pure by long austerities, +Bound by the rule of vows severe, +And each in glory Brahmá's peer. +Some fed on water, some on air, +Some on the leaves that withered there. +Roots and wild fruit were others' food; +All rage was checked, each sense subdued, +There Bálakhilyas(220) went and came, +Now breathed the prayer, now fed the flame: +These, and ascetic bands beside, +The sweet retirement beautified. +Such was Vasishtha's blest retreat, +Like Brahmá's own celestial seat, +Which gladdened Visvámitra's eyes, +Peerless for warlike enterprise. + + + + +Canto LII. Vasishtha's Feast. + + +Right glad was Visvámitra when +He saw the prince of saintly men. +Low at his feet the hero bent, +And did obeisance, reverent. + + The king was welcomed in, and shown +A seat beside the hermit's own, +Who offered him, when resting there, +Fruit in due course, and woodland fare. +And Visvámitra, noblest king, +Received Vasishtha's welcoming, +Turned to his host, and prayed him tell +That he and all with him were well. +Vasishtha to the king replied +That all was well on every side, +That fire, and vows, and pupils throve, +And all the trees within the grove. +And then the son of Brahmá, best +Of all who pray with voice suppressed, +Questioned with pleasant words like these +The mighty king who sate at ease: +"And is it well with thee? I pray; +And dost thou win by virtuous sway +Thy people's love, discharging all +The duties on a king that fall? +Are all thy servants fostered well? +Do all obey, and none rebel? +Hast thou, destroyer of the foe, +No enemies to overthrow? +Does fortune, conqueror! still attend +Thy treasure, host, and every friend? +Is it all well? Does happy fate +On sons and children's children wait?" + + He spoke. The modest king replied +That all was prosperous far and wide. + +Thus for awhile the two conversed, +As each to each his tale rehearsed, +And as the happy moments flew, +Their joy and friendship stronger grew. +When such discourse had reached an end, +Thus spoke the saint most reverend +To royal Visvámitra, while +His features brightened with a smile: +"O mighty lord of men. I fain +Would banquet thee and all thy train +In mode that suits thy station high: +And do not thou my prayer deny. +Let my good lord with favour take +The offering that I fain would make, +And let me honour, ere we part, +My royal guest with loving heart." + + Him Visvámitra thus addressed: +"Why make, O Saint, this new request? +Thy welcome and each gracious word +Sufficient honour have conferred. +Thou gavest roots and fruit to eat, +The treasures of this pure retreat, +And water for my mouth and feet; +And--boon I prize above the rest-- +Thy presence has mine eyesight blest. +Honoured by thee in every way, +To whom all honour all should pay, +I now will go. My lord, Good-bye! +Regard me with a friendly eye." + + Him speaking thus Vasishtha stayed, +And still to share his banquet prayed. +The will of Gádhi's son he bent, +And won the monarch to consent, +Who spoke in answer. "Let it be, +Great Hermit, as it pleases thee." +When, best of those who breathe the prayer, +He heard the king his will declare, +He called the cow of spotted skin, +All spot without, all pure within. +"Come, Dapple-skin," he cried, "with speed; +Hear thou my words and help at need. +My heart is set to entertain +This monarch and his mighty train +With sumptuous meal and worthy fare; +Be thine the banquet to prepare. +Each dainty cate, each goodly dish, +Of six-fold taste(221) as each may wish-- +All these, O cow of heavenly power, +Rain down for me in copious shower: +Viands and drink for tooth and lip, +To eat, to suck, to quaff, to sip-- +Of these sufficient, and to spare, +O plenty-giving cow, prepare." + + + + +Canto LIII. Visvámitra's Request. + + +Thus charged, O slayer of thy foes, +The cow from whom all plenty flows, +Obedient to her saintly lord, +Viands to suit each taste, outpoured. +Honey she gave, and roasted grain, +Mead sweet with flowers, and sugar-cane. +Each beverage of flavour rare, +An food of every sort, were there: +Hills of hot rice, and sweetened cakes, +And curdled milk and soup in lakes. +Vast beakers foaming to the brim +With sugared drink prepared for him, +And dainty sweetmeats, deftly made, +Before the hermit's guests were laid. +So well regaled, so nobly fed, +The mighty army banqueted, +And all the train, from chief to least, +Delighted in Vasishtha's feast. +Then Visvámitra, royal sage, +Surrounded by his vassalage, +Prince, peer, and counsellor, and all +From highest lord to lowest thrall, +Thus feasted, to Vasishtha cried +With joy, supremely gratified: +"Rich honour I, thus entertained, +Most honourable lord, have gained: +Now hear, before I journey hence, +My words, O skilled in eloquence. +Bought for a hundred thousand kine, +Let Dapple-skin, O Saint, be mine. +A wondrous jewel is thy cow, +And gems are for the monarch's brow.(222) +To me her rightful lord resign +This Dapple-skin thou callest thine." + + The great Vasishtha, thus addressed, +Arch-hermit of the holy breast, +To Visvámitra answer made, +The king whom all the land obeyed: +"Not for a hundred thousand,--nay, +Not if ten million thou wouldst pay, +With silver heaps the price to swell,-- +Will I my cow, O Monarch, sell. +Unmeet for her is such a fate. +That I my friend should alienate. +As glory with the virtuous, she +For ever makes her home with me. +On her mine offerings which ascend +To Gods and spirits all depend: +My very life is due to her, +My guardian, friend, and minister. +The feeding of the sacred flame,(223) +The dole which living creatures claim.(224) +The mighty sacrifice by fire, +Each formula the rites require,(225) +And various saving lore beside, +Are by her aid, in sooth, supplied. +The banquet which thy host has shared, +Believe it, was by her prepared, +In her mine only treasures lie, +She cheers mine heart and charms mine eye. +And reasons more could I assign +Why Dapple-skin can ne'er be thine." + + The royal sage, his suit denied, +With eloquence more earnest cried: +"Tusked elephants, a goodly train, +Each with a golden girth and chain, +Whose goads with gold well fashioned shine-- +Of these be twice seven thousand thine. +And four-horse cars with gold made bright, +With steeds most beautifully white, +Whose bells make music as they go, +Eight hundred, Saint, will I bestow. +Eleven thousand mettled steeds +From famous lands, of noble breeds-- +These will I gladly give, O thou +Devoted to each holy vow. +Ten million heifers, fair to view, +Whose sides are marked with every hue-- +These in exchange will I assign; +But let thy Dapple-skin be mine. +Ask what thou wilt, and piles untold +Of priceless gems and gleaming gold, +O best of Bráhmans, shall be thine; +But let thy Dapple-skin be mine." + + The great Vasishtha, thus addressed, +Made answer to the king's request: +"Ne'er will I give my cow away, +My gem, my wealth, my life and stay. +My worship at the moon's first show, +And at the full, to her I owe; +And sacrifices small and great, +Which largess due and gifts await. +From her alone, their root, O King, +My rites and holy service spring. +What boots it further words to say? +I will not give my cow away +Who yields me what I ask each day." + + + + +Canto LIV. The Battle. + + +As Saint Vasishtha answered so, +Nor let the cow of plenty go, +The monarch, as a last resource, +Began to drag her off by force. +While the king's servants tore away +Their moaning, miserable prey, +Sad, sick at heart, and sore distressed, +She pondered thus within her breast: +"Why am I thus forsaken? why +Betrayed by him of soul most high. +Vasishtha, ravished by the hands +Of soldiers of the monarch's bands? +Ah me! what evil have I done +Against the lofty-minded one, +That he, so pious, can expose +The innocent whose love he knows?" +In her sad breast as thus she thought, +And heaved deep sighs with anguish fraught, +With wondrous speed away she fled, +And back to Saint Vasishtha sped. +She hurled by hundreds to the ground +The menial crew that hemmed her round, +And flying swifter than the blast +Before the saint herself she cast. +There Dapple-skin before the saint +Stood moaning forth her sad complaint, +And wept and lowed: such tones as come +From wandering cloud or distant drum. +"O son of Brahmá," thus cried she, +"Why hast thou thus forsaken me, +That the king's men, before thy face, +Bear off thy servant from her place?" + + Then thus the Bráhman saint replied +To her whose heart with woe was tried, +And grieving for his favourite's sake, +As to a suffering sister spake: +"I leave thee not: dismiss the thought; +Nor, duteous, hast thou failed in aught. +This king, o'erweening in the pride +Of power, has reft thee from my side. +Little, I ween, my strength could do +'Gainst him, a mighty warrior too. +Strong, as a soldier born and bred,-- +Great, as a king whom regions dread. +See! what a host the conqueror leads, +With elephants, and cars, and steeds. +O'er countless bands his pennons fly; +So is he mightier far than I." +He spoke. Then she, in lowly mood, +To that high saint her speech renewed: +"So judge not they who wisest are: +The Bráhman's might is mightier far. +For Bráhmans strength from Heaven derive, +And warriors bow when Bráhmans strive. +A boundless power 'tis thine to wield: +To such a king thou shouldst not yield, +Who, very mighty though he be,-- +So fierce thy strength,--must bow to thee. +Command me, Saint. Thy power divine +Has brought me here and made me thine; +And I, howe'er the tyrant boast, +Will tame his pride and slay his host." +Then cried the glorious sage: "Create +A mighty force the foe to mate." + + She lowed, and quickened into life, +Pahlavas,(226) burning for the strife, +King Visvámitra's army slew +Before the very leader's view. +The monarch in excessive ire, +His eyes with fury darting fire, +Rained every missile on the foe +Till all the Pahlavas were low. +She, seeing all her champions slain, +Lying by thousands on the plain. +Created, by her mere desire, +Yavans and Sakas, fierce and dire. +And all the ground was overspread +With Yavans and with Sakas dread: +A host of warriors bright and strong, +And numberless in closest throng: +The threads within the lotus stem, +So densely packed, might equal them. +In gold-hued mail 'against war's attacks, +Each bore a sword and battle-axe, +The royal host, where'er these came, +Fell as if burnt with ravening flame. + + The monarch, famous through the world +Again his fearful weapons hurled, +That made Kámbojas,(227) Barbars,(228) all, +With Yavans, troubled, flee and fall. + + + + +Canto LV. The Hermitage Burnt. + + +So o'er the field that host lay strown, +By Visvámitra's darts o'erthrown. +Then thus Vasishtha charged the cow: +"Create with all thy vigour now." + + Forth sprang Kámbojas, as she lowed; +Bright as the sun their faces glowed, +Forth from her udder Barbars poured,-- +Soldiers who brandished spear and sword,-- +And Yavans with their shafts and darts, +And Sakas from her hinder parts. +And every pore upon her fell, +And every hair-producing cell, +With Mlechchhas(229) and Kirátas(230) teemed, +And forth with them Hárítas streamed. +And Visvámitra's mighty force, +Car, elephant, and foot, and horse, +Fell in a moment's time, subdued +By that tremendous multitude. +The monarch's hundred sons, whose eyes +Beheld the rout in wild surprise, +Armed with all weapons, mad with rage, +Rushed fiercely on the holy sage. +One cry he raised, one glance he shot, +And all fell scorched upon the spot: +Burnt by the sage to ashes, they +With horse, and foot, and chariot, lay. +The monarch mourned, with shame and pain, +His army lost, his children slain, +Like Ocean when his roar is hushed, +Or some great snake whose fangs are crushed: +Or as in swift eclipse the Sun +Dark with the doom he cannot shun: +Or a poor bird with mangled wing-- +So, reft of sons and host, the king +No longer, by ambition fired, +The pride of war his breast inspired. +He gave his empire to his son-- +Of all he had, the only one: +And bade him rule as kings are taught +Then straight a hermit-grove he sought. +Far to Himálaya's side he fled, +Which bards and Nágas visited, +And, Mahádeva's(231) grace to earn, +He gave his life to penance stern. +A lengthened season thus passed by, +When Siva's self, the Lord most High, +Whose banner shows the pictured bull,(232) +Appeared, the God most bountiful: + + "Why fervent thus in toil and pain? +What brings thee here? what boon to gain? +Thy heart's desire, O Monarch, speak: +I grant the boons which mortals seek." +The king, his adoration paid, +To Mahádeva answer made: +"If thou hast deemed me fit to win +Thy favour, O thou void of sin, +On me, O mighty God, bestow +The wondrous science of the bow, +All mine, complete in every part, +With secret spell and mystic art. +To me be all the arms revealed +That Gods, and saints, and Titans wield, +And every dart that arms the hands +Of spirits, fiends and minstrel bands, +Be mine, O Lord supreme in place, +This token of thy boundless grace." + + The Lord of Gods then gave consent, +And to his heavenly mansion went. +Triumphant in the arms he held, +The monarch's breast with glory swelled. +So swells the ocean, when upon +His breast the full moon's beams have shone. +Already in his mind he viewed +Vasishtha at his feet subdued. +He sought that hermit's grove, and there +Launched his dire weapons through the air, +Till scorched by might that none could stay +The hermitage in ashes lay. +Where'er the inmates saw, aghast, +The dart that Visvámitra cast, +To every side they turned and fled +In hundreds forth disquieted. +Vasishtha's pupils caught the fear, +And every bird and every deer, +And fled in wild confusion forth +Eastward and westward, south and north, +And so Vasishtha's holy shade +A solitary wild was made, +Silent awhile, for not a sound +Disturbed the hush that was around. + + Vasishtha then, with eager cry, +Called, "Fear not, friends, nor seek to fly. +This son of Gádhi dies to-day, +Like hoar-frost in the morning's ray." +Thus having said, the glorious sage +Spoke to the king in words of rage: +"Because thou hast destroyed this grove +Which long in holy quiet throve, +By folly urged to senseless crime, +Now shalt thou die before thy time." + + + + +Canto LVI. Visvámitra's Vow. + + +But Visvámitra, at the threat +Of that illustrious anchoret, +Cried, as he launched with ready hand +A fiery weapon, "Stand, O Stand!" +Vasishtha, wild with rage and hate, +Raising, as 'twere the Rod of Fate, +His mighty Bráhman wand on high, +To Visvámitra made reply: +"Nay, stand, O Warrior thou, and show +What soldier can, 'gainst Bráhman foe. +O Gádhi's son, thy days are told; +Thy pride is tamed, thy dart is cold. +How shall a warrior's puissance dare +With Bráhman's awful strength compare? +To-day, base Warrior, shall thou feel +That God-sent might is more than steel." +He raised his Bráhman staff, nor missed +The fiery dart that near him hissed: +And quenched the fearful weapon fell, +As flame beneath the billow's swell. + + Then Gádhi's son in fury threw +Lord Varun's arm and Rudra's too: +Indra's fierce bolt that all destroys; +That which the Lord of Herds employs: +The Human, that which minstrels keep, +The deadly Lure, the endless Sleep: +The Yawner, and the dart which charms; +Lament and Torture, fearful arms: +The Terrible, the dart which dries, +The Thunderbolt which quenchless flies, +And Fate's dread net, and Brahmá's noose, +And that which waits for Varun's use: +The dart he loves who wields the bow +Pináka, and twin bolts that glow +With fury as they flash and fly, +The quenchless Liquid and the Dry: +The dart of Vengeance, swift to kill: +The Goblins' dart, the Curlew's Bill: +The discus both of Fate and Right, +And Vishnu's, of unerring flight: +The Wind-God's dart, the Troubler dread, +The weapon named the Horse's Head. +From his fierce hand two spears were thrown, +And the great mace that smashes bone; +The dart of spirits of the air, +And that which Fate exults to bear: +The Trident dart which slaughters foes, +And that which hanging skulls compose:(233) +These fearful darts in fiery rain +He hurled upon the saint amain, +An awful miracle to view. +But as the ceaseless tempest flew, +The sage with wand of God-sent power +Still swallowed up that fiery shower. + + Then Gádhi's son, when these had failed, +With Brahmá's dart his foe assailed. +The Gods, with Indra at their head, +And Nágas, quailed disquieted, +And saints and minstrels, when they saw +The king that awful weapon draw; +And the three worlds were filled with dread, +And trembled as the missile sped. + + The saint, with Bráhman wand, empowered +By lore divine that dart devoured. +Nor could the triple world withdraw +Rapt gazes from that sight of awe; +For as he swallowed down the dart +Of Brahmá, sparks from every part, +From finest pore and hair-cell, broke +Enveloped in a veil of smoke. +The staff he waved was all aglow +Like Yáma's sceptre, King below, +Or like the lurid fire of Fate +Whose rage the worlds will desolate. + + The hermits, whom that sight had awed, +Extolled the saint, with hymn and laud: +"Thy power, O Sage, is ne'er in vain: +Now with thy might thy might restrain. +Be gracious, Master, and allow +The worlds to rest from trouble now; +For Visvámitra, strong and dread, +By thee has been discomfited." + + Then, thus addressed, the saint, well pleased, +The fury of his wrath appeased. +The king, o'erpowered and ashamed, +With many a deep-drawn sigh exclaimed: +"Ah! Warriors' strength is poor and slight; +A Bráhman's power is truly might. +This Bráhman staff the hermit held +The fury of my darts has quelled. +This truth within my heart impressed, +With senses ruled and tranquil breast +My task austere will I begin, +And Bráhmanhood will strive to win." + + + + +Canto LVII. Trisanku. + + +Then with his heart consumed with woe, +Still brooding on his overthrow +By the great saint he had defied, +At every breath the monarch sighed. +Forth from his home his queen he led, +And to a land far southward fled. +There, fruit and roots his only food, +He practised penance, sense-subdued, +And in that solitary spot +Four virtuous sons the king begot: +Havishyand, from the offering named, +And Madhushyand, for sweetness famed, +Mahárath, chariot-borne in fight, +And Dridhanetra strong of sight. + + A thousand years had passed away, +When Brahmá, Sire whom all obey, +Addressed in pleasant words like these +Him rich in long austerities: +"Thou by the penance, Kusik's son, +A place 'mid royal saints hast won. +Pleased with thy constant penance, we +This lofty rank assign to thee." + + Thus spoke the glorious Lord most High +Father of earth and air and sky, +And with the Gods around him spread +Home to his changeless sphere he sped. +But Visvámitra scorned the grace, +And bent in shame his angry face. +Burning with rage, o'erwhelmed with grief, +Thus in his heart exclaimed the chief: +"No fruit, I ween, have I secured +By strictest penance long endured, +If Gods and all the saints decree +To make but royal saint of me." +Thus pondering, he with sense subdued, +With sternest zeal his vows renewed. +Then reigned a monarch, true of soul, +Who kept each sense in firm control; +Of old Ikshváku's line he came, +That glories in Trisanku's(234) name. +Within his breast, O Raghu's child, +Arose a longing, strong and wild, +Great offerings to the Gods to pay, +And win, alive, to heaven his way. +His priest Vasishtha's aid he sought, +And told him of his secret thought. +But wise Vasishtha showed the hope +Was far beyond the monarch's scope. +Trisanku then, his suit denied, +Far to the southern region hied, +To beg Vasishtha's sons to aid +The mighty plan his soul had made. +There King Trisanku, far renowned, +Vasishtha's hundred children found, +Each on his fervent vows intent, +For mind and fame preëminent. +To these the famous king applied, +Wise children of his holy guide. +Saluting each in order due. +His eyes, for shame, he downward threw, +And reverent hands together pressed, +The glorious company addressed: +"I as a humble suppliant seek +Succour of you who aid the weak. +A mighty offering I would pay, +But sage Vasishtha answered, Nay. +Be yours permission to accord, +And to my rites your help afford. +Sons of my guide, to each of you +With lowly reverence here I sue; +To each, intent on penance-vow, +O Bráhmans, low my head I bow, +And pray you each with ready heart +In my great rite to bear a part, +That in the body I may rise +And dwell with Gods within the skies. +Sons of my guide, none else I see +Can give what he refuses me. +Ikshváku's children still depend +Upon their guide most reverend; +And you, as nearest in degree +To him, my deities shall be!" + + + + +Canto LVIII. Trisanku Cursed. + + +Trisanku's speech the hundred heard, +And thus replied, to anger stirred: +"Why foolish King, by him denied, +Whose truthful lips have never lied, +Dost thou transgress his prudent rule, +And seek, for aid, another school?(235) +Ikshváku's sons have aye relied +Most surely on their holy guide: +Then how dost thou, fond Monarch, dare +Transgress the rule his lips declare? +"Thy wish is vain," the saint replied, +And bade thee cast the plan aside. +Then how can we, his sons, pretend +In such a rite our aid to lend? +O Monarch, of the childish heart, +Home to thy royal town depart. +That mighty saint, thy priest and guide, +At noblest rites may well preside: +The worlds for sacrifice combined +A worthier priest could never find." + + Such speech of theirs the monarch heard, +Though rage distorted every word, +And to the hermits made reply: +"You, like your sire, my suit deny. +For other aid I turn from you: +So, rich in penance, Saints, adieu!" + + Vasishtha's children heard, and guessed +His evil purpose scarce expressed, +And cried, while rage their bosoms burned, +"Be to a vile Chandála(236) turned!" +This said, with lofty thoughts inspired, +Each to his own retreat retired. + + That night Trisanku underwent +Sad change in shape and lineament. +Next morn, an outcast swart of hue, +His dusky cloth he round him drew. +His hair had fallen from his head, +And roughness o'er his skin was spread. +Such wreaths adorned him as are found +To flourish on the funeral ground. +Each armlet was an iron ring: +Such was the figure of the king, +That every counsellor and peer, +And following townsman, fled in fear. + + Alone, unyielding to dismay, +Though burnt by anguish night and day, +Great Visvámitra's side he sought, +Whose treasures were by penance bought. + + The hermit with his tender eyes +Looked on Trisanku's altered guise, +And grieving at his ruined state +Addressed him thus, compassionate: +"Great King," the pious hermit said, +"What cause thy steps has hither led, +Ayodhyá's mighty Sovereign, whom +A curse has plagued with outcast's doom?" +In vile Chandála(237) shape, the king +Heard Visvámitra's questioning, +And, suppliant palm to palm applied, +With answering eloquence he cried: +"My priest and all his sons refused +To aid the plan on which I mused. +Failing to win the boon I sought, +To this condition I was brought. +I, in the body, Saint, would fain +A mansion in the skies obtain. +I planned a hundred rites for this, +But still was doomed the fruit to miss. +Pure are my lips from falsehood's stain, +And pure they ever shall remain,-- +Yea, by a Warrior's faith I swear,-- +Though I be tried with grief and care. +Unnumbered rites to Heaven I paid, +With righteous care the sceptre swayed; +And holy priest and high-souled guide +My modest conduct gratified. +But, O thou best of hermits, they +Oppose my wish these rites to pay; +They one and all refuse consent, +Nor aid me in my high intent. +Fate is, I ween, the power supreme, +Man's effort but an idle dream, +Fate whirls our plans, our all away; +Fate is our only hope and stay; +Now deign, O blessed Saint, to aid +Me, even me by Fate betrayed, +Who come, a suppliant, sore distressed, +One grace, O Hermit, to request. +No other hope or way I see: +No other refuge waits for me. +Oh, aid me in my fallen state, +And human will shall conquer Fate." + + + + +Canto LIX. The Sons Of Vasishtha. + + +Then Kusik's son, by pity warmed, +Spoke sweetly to the king transformed: +"Hail! glory of Ikshváku's line: +I know how bright thy virtues shine. +Dismiss thy fear, O noblest Chief, +For I myself will bring relief. +The holiest saints will I invite +To celebrate thy purposed rite: +So shall thy vow, O King, succeed, +And from thy cares shalt thou be freed. +Thou in the form which now thou hast, +Transfigured by the curse they cast,-- +Yea, in the body, King, shalt flee, +Transported, where thou fain wouldst be. +O Lord of men, I ween that thou +Hast heaven within thy hand e'en now, +For very wisely hast thou done, +And refuge sought with Kusik's son." + + Thus having said, the sage addressed +His sons, of men the holiest, +And bade the prudent saints whate'er +Was needed for the rite prepare. +The pupils he was wont to teach +He summoned next, and spoke this speech: +"Go bid Vasishtha'a sons appear, +And all the saints be gathered here. +And what they one and all reply +When summoned by this mandate high, +To me with faithful care report, +Omit no word and none distort." + + The pupils heard, and prompt obeyed, +To every side their way they made. +Then swift from every quarter sped +The sages in the Vedas read. +Back to that saint the envoys came, +Whose glory shone like burning flame, +And told him in their faithful speech +The answer that they bore from each: +"Submissive to thy word, O Seer, +The holy men are gathering here. +By all was meet obedience shown: +Mahodaya(238) refused alone. +And now, O Chief of hermits, hear +What answer, chilling us with fear, +Vasishtha's hundred sons returned, +Thick-speaking as with rage they burned: +"How will the Gods and saints partake +The offerings that the prince would make, +And he a vile and outcast thing, +His ministrant one born a king? +Can we, great Bráhmans, eat his food, +And think to win beatitude, +By Visvámitra purified?" +Thus sire and sons in scorn replied, +And as these bitter words they said, +Wild fury made their eyeballs red. + + Their answer when the arch-hermit heard, +His tranquil eyes with rage were blurred; +Great fury in his bosom woke, +And thus unto the youths he spoke: +"Me, blameless me they dare to blame, +And disallow the righteous claim +My fierce austerities have earned: +To ashes be the sinners turned. +Caught in the noose of Fate shall they +To Yáma's kingdom sink to-day. +Seven hundred times shall they be born +To wear the clothes the dead have worn. +Dregs of the dregs, too vile to hate, +The flesh of dogs their maws shall sate. +In hideous form, in loathsome weed, +A sad existence each shall lead. +Mahodaya too, the fool who fain +My stainless life would try to stain, +Stained in the world with long disgrace +Shall sink into a fowler's place. +Rejoicing guiltless blood to spill, +No pity through his breast shall thrill. +Cursed by my wrath for many a day, +His wretched life for sin shall pay." + + Thus, girt with hermit, saint, and priest, +Great Visvámitra spoke--and ceased. + + + + +Canto LX. Trisanku's Ascension. + + +So with ascetic might, in ire, +He smote the children and the sire. +Then Visvámitra, far-renowned, +Addressed the saints who gathered round: +"See by my side Trisanku stand, +Ikshváku's son, of liberal hand. +Most virtuous and gentle, he +Seeks refuge in his woe with me. +Now, holy men, with me unite, +And order so his purposed rite +That in the body he may rise +And win a mansion in the skies." + + They heard his speech with ready ear +And, every bosom filled with fear +Of Visvámitra, wise and great, +Spoke each to each in brief debate: +"The breast of Kusik's son, we know, +With furious wrath is quick to glow. +Whate'er the words he wills to say, +We must, be very sure, obey. +Fierce is our lord as fire, and straight +May curse us all infuriate. +So let us in these rites engage, +As ordered by the holy sage. +And with our best endeavour strive +That King Ikshváku's son, alive, +In body to the skies may go +By his great might who wills it so." + + Then was the rite begun with care: +All requisites and means were there: +And glorious Visvámitra lent +His willing aid as president. +And all the sacred rites were done +By rule and use, omitting none. +By chaplain-priest, the hymns who knew, +In decent form and order due. +Some time in sacrifice had past, +And Visvámitra made, at last, +The solemn offering with the prayer +That all the Gods might come and share. +But the Immortals, one and all, +Refused to hear the hermit's call. + + Then red with rage his eyeballs blazed: +The sacred ladle high he raised, +And cried to King Ikshváku's son: +"Behold my power, by penance won: +Now by the might my merits lend, +Ikshváku's child, to heaven ascend. +In living frame the skies attain, +Which mortals thus can scarcely gain. +My vows austere, so long endured, +Have, as I ween, some fruit assured. +Upon its virtue, King, rely, +And in thy body reach the sky." + + His speech had scarcely reached its close, +When, as he stood, the sovereign rose, +And mounted swiftly to the skies +Before the wondering hermits' eyes. + + But Indra, when he saw the king +His blissful regions entering, +With all the army of the Blest +Thus cried unto the unbidden guest: +"With thy best speed, Trisanku, flee: +Here is no home prepared for thee. +By thy great master's curse brought low, +Go, falling headlong, earthward go." + + Thus by the Lord of Gods addressed, +Trisanku fell from fancied rest, +And screaming in his swift descent, +"O, save me, Hermit!" down he went. +And Visvámitra heard his cry, +And marked him falling from the sky, +And giving all his passion sway, +Cried out in fury, "Stay, O stay!" +By penance-power and holy lore, +Like Him who framed the worlds of yore, +Seven other saints he fixed on high +To star with light the southern sky. +Girt with his sages forth he went, +And southward in the firmament +New wreathed stars prepared to set +In many a sparkling coronet. +He threatened, blind with rage and hate, +Another Indra to create, +Or, from his throne the ruler hurled, +All Indraless to leave the world. +Yea, borne away by passion's storm, +The sage began new Gods to form. +But then each Titan, God, and saint, +Confused with terror, sick and faint, +To high souled Visvámitra hied, +And with soft words to soothe him tried: +"Lord of high destiny, this king, +To whom his master's curses cling, +No heavenly home deserves to gain, +Unpurified from curse and stain." + + The son of Kusik, undeterred, +The pleading of the Immortals heard, +And thus in haughty words expressed +The changeless purpose of his breast: +"Content ye, Gods: I soothly sware +Trisanku to the skies to bear +Clothed in his body, nor can I +My promise cancel or deny. +Embodied let the king ascend +To life in heaven that ne'er shall end. +And let these new-made stars of mine +Firm and secure for ever shine. +Let these, my work, remain secure +Long as the earth and heaven endure. +This, all ye Gods, I crave: do you +Allow the boon for which I sue." +Then all the Gods their answer made: +"So be it, Saint, as thou hast prayed. +Beyond the sun's diurnal way +Thy countless stars in heaven shall stay: +And 'mid them hung, as one divine, +Head downward shall Trisanku shine; +And all thy stars shall ever fling +Their rays attendant on the king."(239) + + The mighty saint, with glory crowned, +With all the sages compassed round, +Praised by the Gods, gave full assent, +And Gods and sages homeward went. + + + + +Canto LXI. Sunahsepha. + + +Then Visvámitra, when the Blest +Had sought their homes of heavenly rest, +Thus, mighty Prince, his counsel laid +Before the dwellers of the shade: +"The southern land where now we are +Offers this check our rites to bar:(240) +To other regions let us speed, +And ply our tasks from trouble freed. +Now turn we to the distant west. +To Pushkar's(241) wood where hermits rest, +And there to rites austere apply, +For not a grove with that can vie." + + The saint, in glory's light arrayed, +In Pushkar's wood his dwelling made, +And living there on roots and fruit +Did penance stern and resolute. + + The king who filled Ayodhyá's throne, +By Ambarísha's name far known, +At that same time, it chanced, began +A sacrificial rite to plan. +But Indra took by force away +The charger that the king would slay. +The victim lost, the Bráhman sped +To Ambarísha's side, and said: +"Gone is the steed, O King, and this +Is due to thee, in care remiss. +Such heedless faults will kings destroy +Who fail to guard what they enjoy. +The flaw is desperate: we need +The charger, or a man to bleed. +Quick! bring a man if not the horse, +That so the rite may have its course." + + The glory of Ikshváku's line +Made offer of a thousand kine, +And sought to buy at lordly price +A victim for the sacrifice. +To many a distant land he drove, +To many a people, town, and grove, +And holy shades where hermits rest, +Pursuing still his eager quest. +At length on Bhrigu's sacred height +The saint Richíka met his sight +Sitting beneath the holy boughs. +His children near him, and his spouse. + + The mighty lord drew near, assayed +To win his grace, and reverence paid; +And then the sainted king addressed +The Bráhman saint with this request: +"Bought with a hundred thousand kine, +Give me, O Sage, a son of thine +To be a victim in the rite, +And thanks the favour shall requite. +For I have roamed all countries round, +Nor sacrificial victim found. +Then, gentle Hermit, deign to spare +One child amid the number there." + + Then to the monarch's speech replied +The hermit, penance-glorified: +"For countless kine, for hills of gold, +Mine eldest son shall ne'er be sold." +But, when she heard the saint's reply, +The children's mother, standing nigh, +Words such as these in answer said +To Ambarísha, monarch dread: +"My lord, the saint, has spoken well: +His eldest child he will not sell. +And know, great Monarch, that above +The rest my youngest born I love. +'Tis ever thus: the father's joy +Is centred in his eldest boy. +The mother loves her darling best +Whom last she rocked upon her breast: +My youngest I will ne'er forsake." + + As thus the sire and mother spake, +Young Sunahsepha, of the three +The midmost, cried unurged and free: +"My sire withholds his eldest son, +My mother keeps her youngest one: +Then take me with thee, King: I ween +The son is sold who comes between." +The king with joy his home resought, +And took the prize his kine had bought. +He bade the youth his car ascend, +And hastened back the rites to end.(242) + + + + +Canto LXII. Ambarísha's Sacrifice. + + +As thus the king that youth conveyed, +His weary steeds at length he stayed +At height of noon their rest to take +Upon the bank of Pushkar's lake. +There while the king enjoyed repose +The captive Sunahsepha rose, +And hasting to the water's side +His uncle Visvámitra spied, +With many a hermit 'neath the trees +Engaged in stern austerities. + + Distracted with the toil and thirst, +With woeful mien, away he burst, +Swift to the hermit's breast he flew, +And weeping thus began to sue: +"No sire have I, no mother dear, +No kith or kin my heart to cheer: +As justice bids, O Hermit, deign +To save me from the threatened pain. +O thou to whom the wretched flee, +And find a saviour, Saint, in thee, +Now let the king obtain his will, +And me my length of days fulfil, +That rites austere I too may share, +May rise to heaven and rest me there. +With tender soul and gentle brow +Be guardian of the orphan thou, +And as a father pities, so +Preserve me from my fear and woe." + + When Visvámitra, glorious saint, +Had heard the boy's heart-rending plaint. +He soothed his grief, his tears he dried, +Then called his sons to him, and cried: +"The time is come for you to show +The duty and the aid bestow +For which, regarding future life, +A man gives children to his wife. +This hermit's son, whom here you see +A suppliant, refuge seeks with me. +O sons, the friendless youth befriend, +And, pleasing me, his life defend. +For holy works you all have wrought, +True to the virtuous life I taught. +Go, and as victims doomed to bleed, +Die, and Lord Agni's hunger feed. +So shall the rite completed end, +This orphan gain a saving friend, +Due offerings to the Gods be paid, +And your own father's voice obeyed." + + Then Madhushyand and all the rest +Answered their sire with scorn and jest: +"What! aid to others' sons afford, +And leave thine own to die, my lord! +To us it seems a horrid deed, +As 'twere on one's own flesh to feed." + + The hermit heard his sons' reply, +And burning rage inflamed his eye. +Then forth his words of fury burst: +"Audacious speech, by virtue cursed! +It lifts on end each shuddering hair-- +My charge to scorn! my wrath to dare! +You, like Vasishtha's evil brood, +Shall make the flesh of dogs your food +A thousand years in many a birth, +And punished thus shall dwell on earth." + + Thus on his sons his curse he laid. +Then calmed again that youth dismayed, +And blessed him with his saving aid: +"When in the sacred fetters bound, +And with a purple garland crowned, +At Vishnu's post thou standest tied, +With lauds be Agni glorified. +And these two hymns of holy praise +Forget not, Hermit's son, to raise +In the king's rite, and thou shalt be +Lord of thy wish, preserved, and free." + + He learnt the hymns with mind intent, +And from the hermit's presence went. +To Ambarísha thus he spake: +"Let us our onward journey take. +Haste to thy home, O King, nor stay +The lustral rites with slow delay." + + The boy's address the monarch cheered, +And soon the sacred ground he neared. +The convocation's high decree +Declared the youth from blemish free; +Clothed in red raiment he was tied +A victim at the pillar's side. +There bound, the Fire-God's hymn he raised, +And Indra and Upendra praised. +Thousand-eyed Vishnu, pleased to hear +The mystic laud, inclined his ear, +And won by worship, swift to save, +Long life to Sunahsepha gave. +The king in bounteous measure gained +The fruit of sacrifice ordained, +By grace of Him who rules the skies, +Lord Indra of the thousand eyes. + + And Visvámitra evermore. +Pursued his task on Pushkar's shore +Until a thousand years had past +In fierce austerity and fast. + + + + +Canto LXIII. Menaká. + + +A thousand years had thus flown by +When all the Gods within the sky, +Eager that he the fruit might gain +Of fervent rite and holy pain, +Approached the great ascetic, now +Bathed after toil and ended vow. +Then Brahmá speaking for the rest +With sweetest words the sage addressed: +"Hail, Saint! This high and holy name +Thy rites have won, thy merits claim." + + Thus spoke the Lord whom Gods revere, +And sought again his heavenly sphere. +But Visvámitra, more intent, +His mind to sterner penance bent. + So many a season rolled away, +When Menaká, fair nymph, one day +Came down from Paradise to lave +Her perfect limbs in Pushkar's wave, +The glorious son of Kusik saw +That peerless shape without a flaw +Flash through the flood's translucent shroud +Like lightning gleaming through a cloud. +He saw her in that lone retreat, +Most beautiful from head to feet, +And by Kandarpa's(243) might subdued +He thus addressed her as he viewed: +"Welcome, sweet nymph! O deign, I pray, +In these calm shades awhile to stay. +To me some gracious favour show, +For love has set my breast aglow." + + He spoke. The fairest of the fair +Made for awhile her dwelling there, +While day by day the wild delight +Stayed vow austere and fervent rite +There as the winsome charmer wove +Her spells around him in the grove, +And bound him in a golden chain, +Five sweet years fled, and five again. +Then Visvámitra woke to shame, +And, fraught with anguish, memory came +For quick he knew, with anger fired, +That all the Immortals had conspired +To lap his careless soul in ease, +And mar his long austerities. +"Ten years have past, each day and night +Unheeded in delusive flight. +So long my fervent rites were stayed, +While thus I lay by love betrayed." +As thus long sighs the hermit heaved, +And, touched with deep repentance, grieved, +He saw the fair one standing nigh +With suppliant hands and trembling eye. +With gentle words he bade her go, +Then sought the northern hills of snow. +With firm resolve he vowed to beat +The might of love beneath his feet. +Still northward to the distant side +Of Kausikí(244), the hermit hide, +And gave his life to penance there +With rites austere most hard to bear. +A thousand years went by, and still +He laboured on the northern hill +With pains so terrible and drear +That all the Gods were chilled with fear, +And Gods and saints, for swift advice, +Met in the halls of Paradise. +"Let Kusik's son," they counselled, "be +A Mighty saint by just decree." +His ear to hear their counsel lent +The Sire of worlds, omnipotent. +To him enriched by rites severe +He spoke in accents sweet to hear: +"Hail, Mighty Saint! dear son, all hail! +Thy fervour wins, thy toils prevail. +Won by thy vows and zeal intense +I give this high preëminence." +He to the General Sire replied, +Not sad, nor wholly satisfied: +"When thou, O Brahmá, shalt declare +The title, great beyond compare, +Of Bráhman saint my worthy meed, +Hard earned by many a holy deed, +Then may I deem in sooth I hold +Each sense of body well controlled." +Then Brahmá cried, "Not yet, not yet: +Toil on awhile O Anchoret!" + + Thus having said to heaven he went, +The saint, upon his task intent, +Began his labours to renew, +Which sterner yet and fiercer grew. +His arms upraised, without a rest, +With but one foot the earth he pressed; +The air his food, the hermit stood +Still as a pillar hewn from wood. +Around him in the summer days +Five mighty fires combined to blaze. +In floods of rain no veil was spread +Save clouds, to canopy his head. +In the dank dews both night and day +Couched in the stream the hermit lay. +Thus, till a thousand years had fled, +He plied his task of penance dread. +Then Vishnu and the Gods with awe +The labours of the hermit saw, +And Sakra, in his troubled breast, +Lord of the skies, his fear confessed. +And brooded on a plan to spoil +The merits of the hermit's toil. +Encompassed by his Gods of Storm +He summoned Rambhá, fair of form, +And spoke a speech for woe and weal, +The saint to mar, the God to heal. + + + + +Canto LXIV. Rambhá. + + +"A great emprise, O lovely maid, +To save the Gods, awaits thine aid: +To bind the son of Kusik sure, +And take his soul with love's sweet lure." +Thus order'd by the Thousand-eyed +The suppliant nymph in fear replied: +"O Lord of Gods, this mighty sage +Is very fierce and swift to rage. +I doubt not, he so dread and stern +On me his scorching wrath will turn. +Of this, my lord, am I afraid: +Have mercy on a timid maid." +Her suppliant hands began to shake, +When thus again Lord Indra spake: +"O Rambhá, drive thy fears away, +And as I bid do thou obey. +In Koïl's form, who takes the heart +When trees in spring to blossom start, +I, with Kandarpa for my friend, +Close to thy side mine aid will lend. +Do thou thy beauteous splendour arm +With every grace and winsome charm, +And from his awful rites seduce +This Kusik's son, the stern recluse." + + Lord Indra ceased. The nymph obeyed: +In all her loveliest charms arrayed, +With winning ways and witching smile +She sought the hermit to beguile. +The sweet note of that tuneful bird +The saint with ravished bosom heard, +And on his heart a rapture passed +As on the nymph a look he cast. +But when he heard the bird prolong +His sweet incomparable song, +And saw the nymph with winning smile, +The hermit's heart perceived the wile. +And straight he knew the Thousand-eyed +A plot against his peace had tried. +Then Kusik's son indignant laid +His curse upon the heavenly maid: +"Because thou wouldst my soul engage +Who fight to conquer love and rage, +Stand, till ten thousand years have flown, +Ill-fated maid, transformed to stone. +A Bráhman then, in glory strong, +Mighty through penance stern and long, +Shall free thee from thine altered shape; +Thou from my curse shalt then escape." +But when the saint had cursed her so, +His breast was burnt with fires of woe, +Grieved that long effort to restrain +His mighty wrath was all in vain. +Cursed by the angry sage's power, +She stood in stone that selfsame hour. +Kandarpa heard the words he said, +And quickly from his presence fled. +His fall beneath his passion's sway +Had reft the hermit's meed away. +Unconquered yet his secret foes, +The humbled saint refused repose: +"No more shall rage my bosom till, +Sealed be my lips, my tongue be still. +My very breath henceforth I hold +Until a thousand years are told: +Victorious o'er each erring sense, +I'll dry my frame with abstinence, +Until by penance duly done +A Bráhman's rank be bought and won. +For countless years, as still as death, +I taste no food, I draw no breath, +And as I toil my frame shall stand +Unharmed by time's destroying hand." + + + + +Canto LXV. Visvámitra's Triumph + + +Then from Himálaya's heights of snow, +The glorious saint prepared to go, +And dwelling in the distant east +His penance and his toil increased. +A thousand years his lips he held +Closed by a vow unparalleled, +And other marvels passing thought, +Unrivalled in the world, he wrought. +In all the thousand years his frame +Dry as a log of wood became. +By many a cross and check beset, +Rage had not stormed his bosom yet. +With iron will that naught could bend +He plied his labour till the end. +So when the weary years were o'er, +Freed from his vow so stern and sore, +The hermit, all his penance sped, +Sate down to eat his meal of bread. +Then Indra, clad in Bráhman guise, +Asked him for food with hungry eyes. +The mighty saint, with steadfast soul, +To the false Bráhman gave the whole, +And when no scrap for him remained, +Fasting and faint, from speech refrained. +His silent vow he would not break: +No breath he heaved, no word he spake, +Then as he checked his breath, behold! +Around his brow thick smoke-clouds rolled +And the three worlds, as if o'erspread +With ravening flames, were filled with dread. +Then God and saint and bard, convened, +And Nága lord, and snake, and fiend, +Thus to the General Father cried, +Distracted, sad, and terrified: +"Against the hermit, sore assailed, +Lure, scathe, and scorn have naught availed, +Proof against rage and treacherous art +He keeps his vow with constant heart. +Now if his toils assist him naught +To gain the boon his soul has sought, +He through the worlds will ruin send +That fixt and moving things shall end, +The regions now are dark with doom, +No friendly ray relieves the gloom. +Each ocean foams with maddened tide, +The shrinking hills in fear subside. +Trembles the earth with feverous throe +The wind in fitful tempest blows. +No cure we see with troubled eyes: +And atheist brood on earth may rise. +The triple world is wild with care, +Or spiritless in dull despair. +Before that saint the sun is dim, +His blessed light eclipsed by him. +Now ere the saint resolve to bring +Destruction on each living thing, +Let us appease, while yet we may, +Him bright as fire, like fire to slay. +Yea, as the fiery flood of Fate +Lays all creation desolate, +He o'er the conquered Gods may reign: +O, grant him what he longs to gain." + +Then all the Blest, by Brahmá led, +Approached the saint and sweetly said: +"Hail, Bráhman Saint! for such thy place: +Thy vows austere have won our grace. +A Bráhman's rank thy penance stern +And ceaseless labour richly earn. +I with the Gods of Storm decree +Long life, O Bráhman Saint, to thee. +May peace and joy thy soul possess: +Go where thou wilt in happiness." + + Thus by the General Sire addressed, +Joy and high triumph filled his breast. +His head in adoration bowed, +Thus spoke he to the Immortal crowd: +"If I, ye Gods, have gained at last +Both length of days and Bráhman caste, +Grant that the high mysterious name, +And holy Vedas, own my claim, +And that the formula to bless +The sacrifice, its lord confess. +And let Vasishtha, who excels +In Warriors' art and mystic spells, +In love of God without a peer, +Confirm the boon you promise here." + + With Brahmá's son Vasishtha, best +Of those who pray with voice repressed, +The Gods by earnest prayer prevailed, +And thus his new-made friend he hailed: +"Thy title now is sure and good +To rights of saintly Bráhmanhood." +Thus spake the sage. The Gods, content, +Back to their heavenly mansions went. +And Visvámitra, pious-souled, +Among the Bráhman saints enrolled, +On reverend Vasishtha pressed +The honours due to holy guest. +Successful in his high pursuit, +The sage, in penance resolute, +Walked in his pilgrim wanderings o'er +The whole broad land from shore to shore. +'Twas thus the saint, O Raghu's son, +His rank among the Bráhmans won. +Best of all hermits, Prince, is he; +In him incarnate Penance see. +Friend of the right, who shrinks from ill, +Heroic powers attend him still." + + The Bráhman, versed in ancient lore, +Thus closed his tale, and said no more, +To Satánanda Kusik's son +Cried in delight, Well done! well done! +Then Janak, at the tale amazed, +Spoke thus with suppliant hands upraised: +"High fate is mine, O Sage, I deem, +And thanks I owe for bliss supreme, +That thou and Raghu's children too +Have come my sacrifice to view. +To look on thee with blessed eyes +Exalts my soul and purifies. +Yea, thus to see thee face to face +Enriches me with store of grace. +Thy holy labours wrought of old, +And mighty penance, fully told, +Ráma and I with great delight +Have heard, O glorious Anchorite. +Unrivalled thine ascetic deeds: +Thy might, O Saint, all might exceeds. +No thought may scan, no limit bound +The virtues that in thee are found. +The story of thy wondrous fate +My thirsty ears can never sate. +The hour of evening rites is near: +The sun declines in swift career. +At early dawn, O Hermit, deign +To let me see thy face again. +Best of ascetics, part in bliss: +Do thou thy servant now dismiss." + + The saint approved, and glad and kind +Dismissed the king with joyful mind +Around the sage King Janak went +With priests and kinsmen reverent. +Then Visvámitra, honoured so, +By those high-minded, rose to go, +And with the princes took his way +To seek the lodging where they lay. + + + + +Canto LXVI. Janak's Speech. + + +With cloudless lustre rose the sun; +The king, his morning worship done, +Ordered his heralds to invite +The princes and the anchorite. +With honour, as the laws decree, +The monarch entertained the three. +Then to the youths and saintly man +Videha's lord this speech began: +"O blameless Saint, most welcome thou! +If I may please thee tell me how. +Speak, mighty lord, whom all revere, +'Tis thine to order, mine to hear." + + Thus he on mighty thoughts intent; +Then thus the sage most eloquent: +"King Dasaratha's sons, this pair +Of warriors famous everywhere, +Are come that best of bows to see +That lies a treasure stored by thee. +This, mighty Janak, deign to show, +That they may look upon the bow, +And then, contented, homeward go." +Then royal Janak spoke in turn: +"O best of Saints, the story learn +Why this famed bow, a noble prize, +A treasure in my palace lies. +A monarch, Devarát by name, +Who sixth from ancient Nimi came, +Held it as ruler of the land, +A pledge in his successive hand. +This bow the mighty Rudra bore +At Daksha's(245) sacrifice of yore, +When carnage of the Immortals stained +The rite that Daksha had ordained. +Then as the Gods sore wounded fled, +Victorious Rudra, mocking, said: +"Because, O Gods, ye gave me naught +When I my rightful portion sought, +Your dearest parts I will not spare, +But with my bow your frames will tear." + + The Sons of Heaven, in wild alarm, +Soft flatteries tried his rage to charm. +Then Bhava, Lord whom Gods adore, +Grew kind and friendly as before, +And every torn and mangled limb +Was safe and sound restored by him. +Thenceforth this bow, the gem of bows, +That freed the God of Gods from foes, +Stored by our great forefathers lay +A treasure and a pride for aye. +Once, as it chanced, I ploughed the ground, +When sudden, 'neath the share was found +An infant springing from the earth, +Named Sítá from her secret birth.(246) +In strength and grace the maiden grew, +My cherished daughter, fair to view. +I vowed her, of no mortal birth, +Meet prize for noblest hero's worth. +In strength and grace the maiden grew, +And many a monarch came to woo. +To all the princely suitors I +Gave, mighty Saint, the same reply: +"I give not thus my daughter, she +Prize of heroic worth shall be.(247) +To Míthilá the suitors pressed +Their power and might to manifest. +To all who came with hearts aglow +I offered Siva's wondrous bow. +Not one of all the royal band +Could raise or take the bow in hand. +The suitors' puny might I spurned, +And back the feeble princes turned. +Enraged thereat, the warriors met, +With force combined my town beset. +Stung to the heart with scorn and shame, +With war and threats they madly came, +Besieged my peaceful walls, and long +To Míthilá did grievous wrong. +There, wasting all, a year they lay, +And brought my treasures to decay, +Filling my soul, O Hermit chief, +With bitter woe and hopeless grief. +At last by long-wrought penance I +Won favour with the Gods on high, +Who with my labours well content +A four-fold host to aid me sent. +Then swift the baffled heroes fled +To all the winds discomfited-- +Wrong-doers, with their lords and host, +And all their valour's idle boast. +This heavenly bow, exceeding bright, +These youths shall see, O Anchorite. +Then if young Ráma's hand can string +The bow that baffled lord and king, +To him I give, as I have sworn, +My Sítá, not of woman born." + + + + +Canto LXVII. The Breaking Of The Bow. + + +Then spoke again the great recluse: +"This mighty bow, O King, produce." +King Janak, at the saint's request, +This order to his train addressed: +"Let the great bow be hither borne, +Which flowery wreaths and scents adorn." +Soon as the monarch's words were said, +His servants to the city sped, +Five thousand youths in number, all +Of manly strength and stature tall, +The ponderous eight-wheeled chest that held +The heavenly bow, with toil propelled. +At length they brought that iron chest, +And thus the godlike king addressed: +"This best of bows, O lord, we bring, +Respected by each chief and king, +And place it for these youths to see, +If, Sovereign, such thy pleasure be." + + With suppliant palm to palm applied +King Janak to the strangers cried: +"This gem of bows, O Bráhman Sage, +Our race has prized from age to age, +Too strong for those who yet have reigned, +Though great in might each nerve they strained. +Titan and fiend its strength defies, +God, spirit, minstrel of the skies. +And bard above and snake below +Are baffled by this glorious bow. +Then how may human prowess hope +With such a bow as this to cope? +What man with valour's choicest gift +This bow can draw, or string, or lift? +Yet let the princes, holy Seer, +Behold it: it is present here." + + Then spoke the hermit pious-souled: +"Ráma, dear son, the bow behold." +Then Ráma at his word unclosed +The chest wherein its might reposed, +Thus crying, as he viewed it: "Lo! +I lay mine hand upon the bow: +May happy luck my hope attend +Its heavenly strength to lift or bend." +"Good luck be thine," the hermit cried: +"Assay the task!" the king replied. +Then Raghu's son, as if in sport, +Before the thousands of the court, +The weapon by the middle raised +That all the crowd in wonder gazed. +With steady arm the string he drew +Till burst the mighty bow in two. +As snapped the bow, an awful clang, +Loud as the shriek of tempests, rang. +The earth, affrighted, shook amain +As when a hill is rent in twain. +Then, senseless at the fearful sound, +The people fell upon the ground: +None save the king, the princely pair, +And the great saint, the shock could bear. + + When woke to sense the stricken train, +And Janak's soul was calm again, +With suppliant hands and reverent head, +These words, most eloquent, he said: +"O Saint, Prince Ráma stands alone: +His peerless might he well has shown. +A marvel has the hero wrought +Beyond belief, surpassing thought. +My child, to royal Ráma wed, +New glory on our line will shed: +And true my promise will remain +That hero's worth the bride should gain. +Dearer to me than light and life, +My Sítá shall be Ráma's wife. +If thou, O Bráhman, leave concede, +My counsellors, with eager speed, +Borne in their flying cars, to fair +Ayodhyá's town the news shall bear, +With courteous message to entreat +The king to grace my royal seat. +This to the monarch shall they tell, +The bride is his who won her well: +And his two sons are resting here +Protected by the holy seer. +So, at his pleasure, let them lead +The sovereign to my town with speed." + + The hermit to his prayer inclined +And Janak, lord of virtuous mind, +With charges, to Ayodhyá sent +His ministers: and forth they went. + + + + +Canto LXVIII. The Envoys' Speech. + + +Three nights upon the road they passed +To rest the steeds that bore them fast, +And reached Ayodhyá's town at last. +Then straight at Dasaratha's call +They stood within the royal hall, +Where, like a God, inspiring awe, +The venerable king they saw. +With suppliant palm to palm applied, +And all their terror laid aside, +They spoke to him upon the throne +With modest words, in gentle tone: +"Janak, Videha's king, O Sire, +Has sent us hither to inquire +The health of thee his friend most dear, +Of all thy priests and every peer. +Next Kusik's son consenting, thus +King Janak speaks, dread liege, by us: +"I made a promise and decree +That valour's prize my child should be. +Kings, worthless found in worth's assay, +With mien dejected turned away. +Thy sons, by Visvámitra led, +Unurged, my city visited, +And peerless in their might have gained +My daughter, as my vow ordained. +Full in a vast assembly's view +Thy hero Ráma broke in two +The gem of bows, of monstrous size, +That came a treasure from the skies. +Ordained the prize of hero's might, +Sítá my child is his by right. +Fain would I keep my promise made, +If thou, O King, approve and aid. +Come to my town thy son to see: +Bring holy guide and priest with thee. +O lord of kings, my suit allow, +And let me keep my promised vow. +So joying for thy children's sake +Their triumph too shalt thou partake, +With Visvámitra's high consent." +Such words with friendship eloquent +Spoke Janak, fair Videha's king, +By Satánanda's counselling." + + The envoys thus the king addressed, +And mighty joy his heart possessed. +To Vámadeva quick he cried, +Vasishtha, and his lords beside: +"Lakshman, and he, my princely boy +Who fills Kausalyá's soul with joy, +By Visvámitra guarded well +Among the good Videhans dwell. +Their ruler Janak, prompt to own +The peerless might my child has shown, +To him would knit in holy ties +His daughter, valour's lovely prize. +If Janak's plan seem good to you, +Come, speed we to his city too, +Nor let occasion idly by." + + He ceased. There came a glad reply +From priest and mighty saint and all +The councillors who thronged the hall. +Then cried the king with joyous heart: +"To-morrow let us all depart." + + That night the envoys entertained +With honour and all care remained. + + + + +Canto LXIX. Dasaratha's Visit. + + +Soon as the shades of night had fled, +Thus to the wise Sumantra said +The happy king, while priest and peer, +Each in his place, were standing near: +"Let all my treasurers to-day, +Set foremost in the long array, +With gold and precious gems supplied +In bounteous store, together ride. +And send you out a mighty force, +Foot, chariot, elephant, and horse. +Besides, let many a car of state, +And noblest steeds, my will await. +Vasishtha, Vámadeva sage, +And Márkandeya's reverend age, +Jáváli, Kasyap's godlike seed, +And wise Kátyáyana, shall lead. +Thy care, Sumantra, let it be +To yoke a chariot now for me, +That so we part without delay: +These envoys hasten me away." + + So fared he forth. That host, with speed, +Quadruple, as the king decreed, +With priests to head the bright array, +Followed the monarch on his way. +Four days they travelled on the road, +And eve Videha's kingdom showed. +Janak had left his royal seat +The venerable king to greet, +And, noblest, with these words addressed +That noblest lord, his happy guest: +"Hail, best of kings: a blessed fate +Has led thee, Monarch, to my state. +Thy sons, supreme in high emprise, +Will gladden now their father's eyes. +And high my fate, that hither leads +Vasishtha, bright with holy deeds, +Girt with these sages far-renowned, +Like Indra with the Gods around. +Joy! joy! for vanquished are my foes: +Joy! for my house in glory grows, +With Raghu's noblest sons allied, +Supreme in strength and valour's pride. +To-morrow with its early light +Will shine on my completed rite. +Then, sanctioned by the saints and thee, +The marriage of thy Ráma see." + + Then Dasaratha, best of those +Whose speech in graceful order flows, +With gathered saints on every side, +Thus to the lord of earth replied: +"A truth is this I long have known, +A favour is the giver's own. +What thou shalt bid, O good and true, +We, as our power permits, will do." + + That answer of the truthful lord, +With virtuous worth and honour stored, +Janak, Videha's noble king, +Heard gladly, greatly marvelling. +With bosoms filled with pleasure met +Long-parted saint and anchoret, +And linked in friendship's tie they spent +The peaceful night in great content. + + Ráma and Lakshman thither sped, +By sainted Visvámitra led, +And bent in filial love to greet +Their father, and embraced his feet. +The aged king, rejoiced to hear +And see again his children dear, +Honoured by Janak's thoughtful care, +With great enjoyment rested there. +King Janak, with attentive heed, +Consulted first his daughters' need, +And ordered all to speed the rite; +Then rested also for the night. + + + + +Canto LXX. The Maidens Sought. + + +Then with the morn's returning sun. +King Janak, when his rites were done, +Skilled all the charms of speech to know, +Spoke to wise Satánanda so: +"My brother, lord of glorious fame, +My younger, Kusadhwaj by name, +Whose virtuous life has won renown, +Has settled in a lovely town, +Sánkásyá, decked with grace divine, +Whose glories bright as Pushpak's shine, +While Ikshumatí rolls her wave +Her lofty rampart's foot to lave. +Him, holy priest, I long to see: +The guardian of my rite is he: +That my dear brother may not miss +A share of mine expected bliss." + + Thus in the presence of the priest +The royal Janak spoke, and ceased. +Then came his henchmen, prompt and brave, +To whom his charge the monarch gave. +Soon as they heard his will, in haste +With fleetest steeds away they raced, +To lead with them that lord of kings, +As Indra's call Lord Vishnu brings. +Sánkásyá's walls they duly gained, +And audience of the king obtained. +To him they told the news they brought +Of marvels past and Janak's thought. +Soon as the king the story knew +From those good envoys swift and true, +To Janak's wish he gave assent, +And swift to Míthilá he went. +He paid to Janak reverence due, +And holy Satánanda too, +Then sate him on a glorious seat +For kings or Gods celestial meet. +Soon as the brothers, noble pair +Peerless in might, were seated there, +They gave the wise Sudáman, best +Of councillors, their high behest: +"Go, noble councillor," they cried, +"And hither to our presence guide +Ikshváku's son, Ayodhyá's lord, +Invincible by foeman's sword, +With both his sons, each holy seer, +And every minister and peer." +Sudáman to the palace flew, +And saw the mighty king who threw +Splendour on Raghu's splendid race, +Then bowed his head with seemly grace: +"O King, whose hand Ayodhyá sways, +My lord, whom Míthilá obeys, +Yearns with desire, if thou agree, +Thee with thy guide and priest to see." +Soon as the councillor had ceased, +The king, with saint and peer and priest, +Sought, speeding through the palace gate, +The hall where Janak held his state. +There, with his nobles round him spread, +Thus to Videha's lord be said: +"Thou knowest, King, whose aid divine +Protects Ikshváku's royal line. +In every need, whate'er befall, +The saint Vasishtha speaks for all. +If Visvámitra so allow, +And all the saints around me now, +The sage will speak, at my desire, +As order and the truth require." + + Soon as the king his lips had stilled, +Up rose Vasishtha, speaker skilled. +And to Videha's lord began +In flowing words that holy man: +"From viewless Nature Brahmá rose, +No change, no end, no waste he knows. +A son had he Maríchi styled, +And Kasyap was Maríchi's child. +From him Vivasvat sprang: from him +Manu whose fame shall ne'er be dim. +Manu, who life to mortals gave, +Begot Ikshváku good and brave. +First of Ayodhyá's kings was he, +Pride of her famous dynasty. +From him the glorious Kukshi sprang, +Whose fame through all the regions rang. +Rival of Kukshi's ancient fame, +His heir, the great Vikukshi, came, +His son was Vána, lord of might; +His Anaranya, strong to fight. +His son was Prithu, glorious name; +From him the good Trisanku came. +He left a son renowned afar, +Known by the name of Dhundhumár. +His son, who drove the mighty car, +Was Yuvanásva, feared in war. +He passed away. Him followed then +His son Mándhátá, king of men. +His son was blest in high emprise, +Susandhi, fortunate and wise. +Two noble sons had he, to wit +Dhruvasandhi and Prasenajit. +Bharat was Dhruvasandhi's son, +And glorious fame that monarch won. +The warrior Asit he begot. +Asit had warfare, fierce and hot, +With rival kings in many a spot, +Haihayas, Tálajanghas styled, +And Sasivindus, strong and wild. +Long time he strove, but forced to yield +Fled from his kingdom and the field. +With his two wives away he fled +Where high Himálaya lifts his head, +And, all his wealth and glory past, +He paid the dues of Fate at last. +The wives he left had both conceived-- +So is the ancient tale believed-- +One, of her rival's hopes afraid +Fell poison in her viands laid. +It chanced that Chyavan, Bhrigu's child, +Had wandered to that pathless wild, +And there Himálaya's lovely height +Detained him with a strange delight. +There came the other widowed queen, +With lotus eyes and beauteous mien, +Longing a noble son to bear, +And wooed the saint with earnest prayer. +When thus Kálindi,(248) fairest dame, +With reverent supplication came, +To her the holy sage replied: +"Born with the poison from thy side, +O happy Queen, shall spring ere long +An infant fortunate and strong. +Then weep no more, and check thy sighs, +Sweet lady of the lotus eyes." +The queen, who loved her perished lord, +For meet reply, the saint adored, +And, of her husband long bereaved, +She bore a son by him conceived. +Because her rival mixed the bane +To render her conception vain, +And fruit unripened to destroy, +Sagar(249) she called her darling boy. +To Sagar Asamanj was heir: +Bright Ansumán his consort bare. +Ansumán's son, Dilípa famed, +Begot a son Bhagírath named. +From him the great Kakutstha rose: +From him came Raghu, feared by foes, +Of him sprang Purushádak bold, +Fierce hero of gigantic mould: +Kalmáshapáda's name he bore, +Because his feet were spotted o'er.(250) +From him came Sankan, and from him +Sudarsan, fair in face and limb. +From beautiful Sudarsan came +Prince Agnivarna, bright as flame. +His son was Síghraga, for speed +Unmatched; and Maru was his seed. +Prasusruka was Maru's child; +His son was Ambarísha styled. +Nahush was Ambarísha's heir, +The mighty lord of regions fair: +Nahush begot Yayáti: he, +Nábhág of happy destiny. +Son of Nábhág was Aja: his, +The glorious Dasaratha is, +Whose noble children boast to be +Ráma and Lakshman, whom we see. +Thus do those kings of purest race +Their lineage from Ikshváku trace: +Their hero lives the right maintained, +Their lips with falsehood ne'er were stained. +In Ráma's and in Lakshman's name +Thy daughters as their wives I claim, +So shall in equal bands be tied +Each peerless youth with peerless bride." + + + + +Canto LXXI. Janak's Pedigree. + + +Then to the saint supremely wise +King Janak spoke in suppliant guise: +"Deign, Hermit, with attentive ear, +Mv race's origin to hear. +When kings a daughter's hand bestow, +'Tis right their line and fame to show. +There was a king whose deeds and worth +Spread wide his name through heaven and earth, +Nimi, most virtuous e'en from youth, +The best of all who love the truth. +His son and heir was Mithi, and +His Janak, first who ruled this land. +He left a son Udávasu, +Blest with all virtues, good and true. +His son was Nandivardhan, dear +For pious heart and worth sincere. +His son Suketu, hero brave, +To Devarát, existence gave. +King Devarát, a royal sage, +For virtue, glory of the age, +Begot Vrihadratha; and he +Begot, his worthy heir to be, +The splendid hero Mahábír +Who long in glory governed here. +His son was Sudhriti, a youth +Firm in his purpose, brave in sooth, +His son was Dhristaketu, blest +With pious will and holy breast. +The fame of royal saint he won: +Haryasva was his princely son. +Haryasva's son was Maru, who +Begot Pratíndhak, wise and true. +Next Kírtiratha held the throne, +His son, for gentle virtues known. +Then followed Devamidha, then +Vibudh, Mahándhrak, kings of men. +Mahándhrak's son, of boundless might, +Was Kírtirát, who loved the right. +He passed away, a sainted king, +And Maháromá following +To Swarnaromá left the state. +Then Hrasvaromá, good and great, +Succeeded, and to him a pair +Of sons his royal consort bare, +Elder of these I boast to be: +Brave Kusadhwaj is next to me.(251) +Me then, the elder of the twain, +My sire anointed here to reign. +He bade me tend my brother well, +Then to the forest went to dwell. +He sought the heavens, and I sustained +The burden as by law ordained, +And noble Kusadhwaj, the peer +Of Gods, I ever held most dear. +Then came Sánkásyá's mighty lord, +Sudhanvá, threatening siege and sword, +And bade me swift on him bestow +Siva's incomparable bow, +And Sítá of the lotus eyes: +But I refused each peerless prize. +Then, host to host, we met the foes, +And fierce the din of battle rose, +Sudhanvá, foremost of his band, +Fell smitten by my single hand. +When thus Sánkásyá's lord was slain, +I sanctified, as laws ordain, +My brother in his stead to reign, +Thus are we brothers, Saint most high +The younger he, the elder I. +Now, mighty Sage, my spirit joys +To give these maidens to the boys. +Let Sítá be to Ráma tied. +And Urmilá be Lakshman's bride. +First give, O King, the gift of cows, +As dowry of each royal spouse, +Due offerings to the spirits pay, +And solemnize the wedding-day. +The moon tonight, O royal Sage, +In Maghá's(252) House takes harbourage; +On the third night his rays benign +In second Phálguni(253) will shine: +Be that the day, with prosperous fate, +The nuptial rites to celebrate." + + + + +Canto LXXII. The Gift Of Kine. + + +When royal Janak's words were done, +Joined with Vasishtha Kusik's son, +The mighty sage began his speech: +"No mind may soar, no thought can reach +The glories of Ikshváku's line, +Or, great Videha's King, of thine: +None in the whole wide world may vie +With them in fame and honours high. +Well matched, I ween, in holy bands, +These peerless pairs will join their hands. +But hear me as I speak once more; +Thy brother, skilled in duty's lore, +Has at his home a royal pair +Of daughters most divinely fair. +I for the hands of these sweet two +For Bharat and Satrughna sue, +Both princes of heroic mould, +Wise, fair of form, and lofty-souled. +All Dasaratha's sons, I ween, +Own each young grace of form and mien: +Brave as the Gods are they, nor yield +To the great Lords the worlds who shield. +By these, good Prince of merits high, +Ikshváku's house with thine ally." + + The suit the holy sage preferred, +With willing ear the monarch heard: +Vasishtha's lips the counsel praised: +Then spake the king with hands upraised: +"Now blest indeed my race I deem, +Which your high will, O Saints supreme, +With Dasaratha's house unites +In bonds of love and marriage rites. +So be it done. My nieces twain +Let Bharat and Satrughna gain, +And the four youths the selfsame day +Four maiden hands in theirs shall lay. +No day so lucky may compare, +For marriage--so the wise declare-- +With the last day of Phálguni +Ruled by the genial deity." +Then with raised hands in reverence due +To those arch-saints he spoke anew: +"I am your pupil, ever true: +To me high favour have ye shown; +Come, sit ye on my royal throne, +For Dasaratha rules these towers +E'en as Ayodhyá now is ours. +Do with your own whate'er ye choose: +Your lordship here will none refuse." + + He spoke, and to Videha's king +Thus Dasaratha, answering: +"Boundless your virtues, lords, whose sway +The realms of Mithilá obey. +With honouring care you entertain. +Both holy sage and royal train. +Now to my house my steps I bend-- +May blessings still on you at end-- +Due offerings to the shades to pay." +Thus spoke the king, and turned away: +To Janak first he bade adieu, +Then followed fast those holy two. +The monarch reached his palace where +The rites were paid with solemn care. +When the next sun began to shine +He rose and made his gift of kine. +A hundred thousand cows prepared +For each young prince the Bráhmans shared. +Each had her horns adorned with gold; +And duly was the number told, +Four hundred thousand perfect tale: +Each brought a calf, each filled a pail. +And when that glorious task was o'er, +The monarch with his children four, +Showed like the Lord of Life divine +When the worlds' guardians round him shine. + + + + +Canto LXXIII. The Nuptials. + + +On that same day that saw the king +His gift of kine distributing, +The lord of Kekaya's son, by name +Yudhájit, Bharat's uncle, came, +Asked of the monarch's health, and then +Addressed the reverend king of men: +"The lord of Kekaya's realm by me +Sends greeting, noble King, to thee: +Asks if the friends thy prayers would bless +Uninterrupted health possess. +Right anxious, mighty King, is he +My sister's princely boy to see. +For this I sought Ayodhyá fair +The message of my sire to bear. +There learning, O my liege, that thou +With sons and noble kinsmen now +Wast resting here, I sought the place +Longing to see my nephew's face." +The king with kind observance cheered +His friend by tender ties endeared, +And every choicest honour pressed +Upon his honourable guest. + + That night with all his children spent, +At morn King Dasaratha went, +Behind Vasishtha and the rest, +To the fair ground for rites addressed. +Then when the lucky hour was nigh +Called Victory, of omen high, +Came Ráma, after vow and prayer +For nuptial bliss and fortune fair, +With the three youths in bright attire, +And stood beside his royal sire. +To Janak then Vasishtha sped, +And to Videha's monarch said: +"O King, Ayodhyá's ruler now +Has breathed the prayer and vowed the vow, +And with his sons expecting stands +The giver of the maidens' hands. +The giver and the taker both +Must ratify a mutual oath. +Perform the part for which we wait, +And rites of marriage celebrate." + + Skilled in the laws which Scriptures teach, +He answered thus Vasishtha's speech: +"O Saint, what warder bars the gate? +Whose bidding can the king await? +In one's own house what doubt is shown? +This kingdom, Sage, is all thine own. +E'en now the maidens may be found +Within the sacrificial ground: +Each vow is vowed and prayed each prayer, +And they, like fire, are shining there. +Here by the shrine my place I took +Expecting thee with eager look, +No bar the nuptial rites should stay: +What cause have we for more delay?" +When Janak's speech the monarch heard, +To sons and saints he gave the word, +And set them in the holy ring, +Then to Vasishtha spoke the king +Of Mithilá: "O mighty Sage, +Now let this task thy care engage, +And lend thine aid and counsel wise +The nuptial rites to solemnize." + + The saint Vasishtha gave assent, +And quickly to the task he went, +With Visvámitra, nothing loth, +And Satánanda aiding both. +Then, as the rules prescribe, they made +An altar in the midst, and laid +Fresh wreaths of fragrant flowers thereon. +The golden ladles round it shone; +And many a vase, which branches hid +Fixed in the perforated lid, +And sprays, and cups, and censers there +Stood filled with incense rich and rare; +Shell-bowls, and spoons, and salvers dressed +With gifts that greet the honoured guest; +Piles of parched rice some dishes bore, +Others with corn prepared ran o'er; +And holy grass was duly spread +In equal lengths, while prayers were said. +Next chief of saints, Vasishtha came +And laid the offering in the flame. +Then by the hand King Janak drew +His Sítá, beautiful to view, +And placed her, bright in rich attire, +Ráma to face, before the fire, +Thus speaking to the royal boy +Who filled Kausalyá's heart with joy: +"Here Sítá stands, my daughter fair, +The duties of thy life to share. +Take from her father, take thy bride; +Join hand to hand, and bliss betide! +A faithful wife, most blest is she, +And as thy shade will follow thee." + + Thus as he spoke the monarch threw +O'er her young limbs the holy dew, +While Gods and saints were heard to swell +The joyous cry, 'Tis well! 'Tis well! +His daughter Sítá thus bestowed, +O'er whom the sacred drops had flowed. +King Janak's heart with rapture glowed. +Then to Prince Lakshman thus he cried: +"Take Urmilá thine offered bride, +And clasp her hand within thine own +Ere yet the lucky hour be flown." +Then to Prince Bharat thus cried he; +"Come, take the hand of Mándavi." +Then to Satrughna: "In thy grasp +The hand of Srutakírti clasp. +Now, Raghu's sons, may all of you +Be gentle to your wives and true; +Keep well the vows you make to-day, +Nor let occasion slip away." + + King Janak's word the youths obeyed; +The maidens' hands in theirs they laid. +Then with their brides the princes went +With ordered steps and reverent +Round both the fire and Janak, round +The sages and the sacred ground. + + A flowery flood of lucid dyes +In rain descended from the skies, +While with celestial voices blent +Sweet strains from many an instrument, +And the nymphs danced in joyous throng +Responsive to the minstrel's song. +Such signs of exultation they +Saw on the princes' wedding day. +Still rang the heavenly music's sound +When Raghu's sons thrice circled round +The fire, each one with reverent head, +And homeward then their brides they led. +They to the sumptuous palace hied +That Janak's care had seen supplied. +The monarch girt with saint and peer +Still fondly gazing followed near. + + + + +Canto LXXIV. Ráma With The Axe.(254) + + +Soon as the night had reached its close +The hermit Visvámitra rose; +To both the kings he bade adieu +And to the northern hill withdrew. +Ayodhyá's lord of high renown +Received farewell, and sought his town. +Then as each daughter left her bower +King Janak gave a splendid dower, +Rugs, precious silks, a warrior force, +Cars, elephants, and foot, and horse, +Divine to see and well arrayed; +And many a skilful tiring-maid, +And many a young and trusty slave +The father of the ladies gave. +Silver and coral, gold and pearls +He gave to his beloved girls. +These precious gifts the king bestowed +And sped his guest upon his road. +The lord of Mithilá's sweet town +Rode to his court and lighted down. +Ayodhyá's monarch, glad and gay, +Led by the seers pursued his way +With his dear sons of lofty mind: +The royal army marched behind. +As on he fared the voice he heard +Around of many a dismal bird, +And every beast in wild affright +Began to hurry to the right. +The monarch to Vasishtha cried: +"What strange misfortune will betide? +Why do the beasts in terror fly, +And birds of evil omen cry? +What is it shakes my heart with dread? +Why is my soul disquieted?" + + Soon as he heard, the mighty saint +Thus answered Dasaratha's plaint +In sweetest tone: "Now, Monarch, mark, +And learn from me the meaning dark. +The voices of the birds of air +Great peril to the host declare: +The moving beasts the dread allay, +So drive thy whelming fear away," + + As he and Dasaratha spoke +A tempest from the welkin broke, +That shook the spacious earth amain +And hurled high trees upon the plain. +The sun grew dark with murky cloud, +And o'er the skies was cast a shroud, +While o'er the army, faint with dread, +A veil of dust and ashes spread. +King, princes, saints their sense retained, +Fear-stupefied the rest remained. +At length, their wits returning, all +Beneath the gloom and ashy pall +Saw Jamadagni's son with dread, +His long hair twisted round his head, +Who, sprung from Bhrigu, loved to beat +The proudest kings beneath his feet. +Firm as Kailása's hill he showed, +Fierce as the fire of doom he glowed. +His axe upon his shoulder lay, +His bow was ready for the fray, +With thirsty arrows wont to fly +Like Lightnings from the angry sky. +A long keen arrow forth he drew, +Invincible like those which flew +From Siva's ever-conquering bow +And Tripura in death laid low. + + When his wild form, that struck with awe, +Fearful as ravening flame, they saw, +Vasishtha and the saints whose care +Was sacrifice and muttered prayer, +Drew close together, each to each, +And questioned thus with bated speech: +"Indignant at his father's fate +Will he on warriors vent his hate, +The slayers of his father slay, +And sweep the loathed race away? +But when of old his fury raged +Seas of their blood his wrath assuaged: +So doubtless now he has not planned +To slay all warriors in the land." + + Then with a gift the saints drew near +To Bhrigu's son whose look was fear, +And Ráma! Ráma! soft they cried. +The gift he took, no word replied. +Then Bhrigu's son his silence broke +And thus to Ráma Ráma spoke: + + + + +Canto LXXV. The Parle. + + +"Heroic Ráma, men proclaim +The marvels of thy matchless fame, +And I from loud-voiced rumour know +The exploit of the broken bow, +Yea, bent and broken, mighty Chief, +A feat most wondrous, past belief. +Stirred by thy fame thy face I sought: +A peerless bow I too have brought. +This mighty weapon, strong and dire, +Great Jamadagni owned, my sire. +Draw with its shaft my father's bow, +And thus thy might, O Ráma, show. +This proof of prowess let me see-- +The weapon bent and drawn by thee; +Then single fight our strength shall try, +And this shall raise thy glory high." + + King Dasaratha heard with dread +The boastful speech, and thus he said; +Raising his hands in suppliant guise, +With pallid cheek and timid eyes: +"Forgetful of the bloody feud +Ascetic toils hast thou pursued; +Then, Bráhman, let thy children be +Untroubled and from danger free. +Sprung of the race of Bhrigu, who +Read holy lore, to vows most true, +Thou swarest to the Thousand-eyed +And thy fierce axe was cast aside. +Thou turnedst to thy rites away +Leaving the earth to Kasyap's sway, +And wentest far a grove to seek +Beneath Mahendra's(255) mountain peak. +Now, mighty Hermit, art thou here +To slay us all with doom severe? +For if alone my Ráma fall, +We share his fate and perish all." + + As thus the aged sire complained +The mighty chief no answer deigned. +To Ráma only thus he cried: +"Two bows, the Heavenly Artist's pride, +Celestial, peerless, vast, and strong, +By all the worlds were honoured long. +One to the Three-eyed God(256) was given, +By glory to the conflict driven, +Thus armed fierce Tripura he slew: +And then by thee 'twas burst in two. +The second bow, which few may brave, +The highest Gods to Vishnu gave. +This bow I hold; before it fall +The foeman's fenced tower and wall. +Then prayed the Gods the Sire Most High +By some unerring proof to try +Were praise for might Lord Vishnu's due, +Or his whose Neck is stained with Blue.(257) +The mighty Sire their wishes knew, +And he whose lips are ever true +Caused the two Gods to meet as foes. +Then fierce the rage of battle rose: +Bristled in dread each starting hair +As Siva strove with Vishnu there. +But Vishnu raised his voice amain. +And Siva's bowstring twanged in vain; +Its master of the Three bright Eyes +Stood fixt in fury and surprise. +Then all the dwellers in the sky, +Minstrel, and saint, and God drew nigh, +And prayed them that the strife might cease, +And the great rivals met in peace. +'Twas seen how Siva's bow has failed +Unnerved, when Vishnu's might assailed, +And Gods and heavenly sages thence +To Vishnu gave preëminence. +Then glorious Siva in his rage +Gave it to Devarát the sage +Who ruled Videha's fertile land, +To pass it down from hand to hand. +But this my bow, whose shafts smite down +The foeman's fenced tower and town, +To great Richíka Vishnu lent +To be a pledge and ornament, +Then Jamadagni, Bráhman dread, +My sire, the bow inherited. +But Arjun stooped to treachery vile +And slew my noble sire by guile, +Whose penance awful strength had gained, +Whose hand the God-given bow retained. +I heard indignant how he fell +By mournful fate, too sad to tell. +My vengeful fury since that time +Scourges all Warriors for the crime. +As generations spring to life +I war them down in endless strife. +All earth I brought beneath my sway, +And gave it for his meed and pay +To holy Kasyap, when of yore +The rites performed by him were o'er. +Then to Mahendra's hill I turned +Strong in the strength that penance earned, +And toiled upon his lofty head +By Gods immortal visited. +The breaking of the bow I knew +From startled Gods conversing, through +The airy regions, of thy deed, +And hither came with swiftest speed. +Now, for thy Warrior's honour sake, +This best of bows, O Ráma, take: +This, owned by Vishnu's self of old, +My sire and grandsire loved to hold. +Drawn to its head upon the string, +One town-destroying arrow bring; +If this thou can, O hero, I +In single fight thy strength will try." + + + + +Canto LXXVI. Debarred From Heaven. + + +The haughty challenge, undeterred +The son of Dasaratha heard, +And cried, while reverence for his sire +Checked the full torrent of his ire: +"Before this day have I been told +The deed that stained thy hands of old. +But pity bids my soul forget: +Thy father, murdered, claimed the debt. +My strength, O Chief, thou deemest slight, +Too feeble for a Warrior's might. +Now will I show thy wondering eyes +The prowess which they dare despise." + + He hastened then with graceful ease +That mighty bow and shaft to seize. +His hand the weapon strung and swayed: +The arrow on the string was laid. +Then Jamadagni's son he eyed, +And thus in words of fury cried: +"Thou art a Bráhman, still to be +Most highly honoured, Chief, by me. +For Visvámitra's sake beside +Shall reverence due be ne'er denied. +Though mine the power, I would not send +A dart at thee thy life to end. +But thy great power to wander free, +Which penance-rites have won for thee, +Or glorious worlds from thee to wrest, +Is the firm purpose of my breast, +And Vishnu's dart which now I strain +Can ne'er be shot to fall in vain: +It strikes the mighty, and it stuns +The madness of the haughty ones." + + Then Gods, and saints and heavenly choir +Preceded by the General Sire, +Met in the air and gazed below +On Ráma with that wondrous bow. +Nymph, minstrel, angel, all were there, +Snake-God, and spirit of the air, +Giant, and bard, and gryphon, met, +Their eyes upon the marvel set. +In senseless hush the world was chained +While Ráma's hand the bow retained, +And Jamadagni's son amazed +And powerless on the hero gazed. +Then when his swelling heart had shrunk, +And his proud strength in torpor sunk, +Scarce his voice ventured, low and weak, +To Ráma lotus-eyed, to speak: +"When long ago I gave away +The whole broad land to Kasyap's sway +He charged me never to remain +Within the limits of his reign. +Obedient to my guide's behest +On earth by night I never rest. +My choice is made, I will not dim +Mine honour and be false to him. +So, son of Raghu, leave me still +The power to wander where I will, +And swifter than the thought my flight +Shall place me on Mahendra's height. +My mansions of eternal joy, +By penance won, thou mayst destroy, +My path to these thy shaft may stay. +Now to the work! No more delay! +I know thee Lord of Gods; I know +Thy changeless might laid Madhu low. +All other hands would surely fail +To bend this bow. All hail! all hail! +See! all the Gods have left the skies +To bend on thee their eager eyes, +With whose achievements none compete, +Whose arm in war no God can meet. +No shame is mine, I ween, for thou, +Lord of the Worlds, hast dimmed my brow. +Now, pious Ráma, 'tis thy part +To shoot afar that glorious dart: +I, when the fatal shaft is shot, +Will seek that hill and tarry not." + + He ceased. The wondrous arrow flew, +And Jamadagni's offspring knew +Those glorious worlds to him were barred, +Once gained by penance long and hard. +Then straight the airy quarters cleared, +And the mid regions bright appeared, +While Gods and saints unnumbered praised +Ráma, the mighty bow who raised. +And Jamadagni's son, o'erawed. +Extolled his name with highest laud, +With reverent steps around him strode, +Then hastened on his airy road. +Far from the sight of all he fled, +And rested on Mahendra's head. + + + + +Canto LXXVII. Bharat's Departure. + + +Then Ráma with a cheerful mind +The bow to Varun's hand resigned. +Due reverence to the saints he paid, +And thus addressed his sire dismayed: +"As Bhrigu's son is far from view, +Now let the host its march pursue, +And to Ayodhyá's town proceed +In four-fold bands, with thee to lead." + + King Dasaratha thus addressed +His lips to Ráma's forehead pressed, +And held him to his aged breast. +Rejoiced in sooth was he to know +That Bhrigu's son had parted so, +And hailed a second life begun +For him and his victorious son. +He urged the host to speed renewed, +And soon Ayodhyá's gates he viewed. +High o'er the roofs gay pennons played; +Tabour and drum loud music made; +Fresh water cooled the royal road, +And flowers in bright profusion glowed. +Glad crowds with garlands thronged the ways +Rejoicing on their king to gaze +And all the town was bright and gay +Exalting in the festive day. +People and Bráhmans flocked to meet +Their monarch ere he gained the street. +The glorious king amid the throng +Rode with his glorious sons along, +And passed within his dear abode +That like Himálaya's mountain showed. +And there Kausalyá, noble queen, +Sumitrá with her lovely mien, +Kaikeyí of the dainty waist, +And other dames his bowers who graced, +Stood in the palace side by side +And welcomed home each youthful bride: +Fair Sítá, lofty-fated dame, +Urmilá of the glorious fame, +And Kusadhwaj's children fair, +With joyous greeting and with prayer, +As all in linen robes arrayed +With offerings at the altars prayed. +Due reverence paid to God above, +Each princess gave her soul to love, +And hidden in her inmost bower +Passed with her lord each blissful hour. +The royal youths, of spirit high, +With whom in valor none could vie, +Lived each within his palace bounds +Bright as Kuvera's pleasure-grounds, +With riches, troops of faithful friends, +And bliss that wedded life attends: +Brave princes trained in warlike skill, +And duteous to their father's will. +At length the monarch called one morn +Prince Bharat, of Kaikeyí born, +And cried: "My son, within our gates +Lord Yudhájit thine uncle waits. +The son of Kekaya's king is he, +And came, my child, to summon thee." + + Then Bharat for the road prepared, +And with Satrughna forth he fared. +First to his sire he bade adieu, +Brave Ráma, and his mothers too. +Lord Yudhájit with joyful pride +Went forth, the brothers by his side, +And reached the city where he dwelt: +And mighty joy his father felt. + + Ráma and Lakshman honoured still +Their godlike sire with duteous will. +Two constant guides for Ráma stood, +His father's wish, the people's good. +Attentive to the general weal +He thought and wrought to please and heal. +His mothers too he strove to please +With love and sonly courtesies. +At every time, in every spot, +His holy guides he ne'er forgot. +So for his virtues kind and true +Dearer and dearer Ráma grew +To Dasaratha, Bráhmans, all +In town and country, great and small. +And Ráma by his darling's side +Saw many a blissful season glide, +Lodged in her soul, each thought on her, +Lover, and friend, and worshipper. +He loved her for his father's voice +Had given her and approved the choice: +He loved her for each charm she wore +And her sweet virtues more and more. +So he her lord and second life +Dwelt in the bosom of his wife, +In double form, that, e'en apart, +Each heart could commune free with heart. + + Still grew that child of Janak's race, +More goddess-fair in form and face, +The loveliest wife that e'er was seen, +In mortal mould sweet Beauty's Queen. +Then shone the son Kausalyá bore, + With this bright dame allied, +Like Vishnu whom the Gods adore, + With Lakshmi by his side. + + + + + +BOOK II. + + + + +Canto I. The Heir Apparent. + + +So Bharat to his grandsire went +Obedient to the message sent, +And for his fond companion chose +Satrughna slayer of his foes.(258) +There Bharat for a time remained +With love and honour entertained, +King Asvapati's constant care, +Beloved as a son and heir. +Yet ever, as they lived at ease, +While all around combined to please, +The aged sire they left behind +Was present to each hero's mind. +Nor could the king's fond memory stray +From his brave children far away, +Dear Bharat and Satrughna dear, +Each Varun's match or Indra's peer. + + To all the princes, young and brave, +His soul with fond affection clave; +Around his loving heart they clung +Like arms from his own body sprung.(259) +But best and noblest of the four, +Good as the God whom all adore, +Lord of all virtues, undefiled, +His darling was his eldest child. +For he was beautiful and strong, +From envy free, the foe of wrong, +With all his father's virtues blest, +And peerless in the world confessed. +With placid soul he softly spoke: +No harsh reply could taunts provoke. +He ever loved the good and sage +Revered for virtue and for age, +And when his martial tasks were o'er +Sate listening to their peaceful lore. +Wise, modest, pure, he honoured eld, +His lips from lying tales withheld; +Due reverence to the Bráhmans gave, +And ruled each passion like a slave. +Most tender, prompt at duty's call, +Loved by all men he loved them all. +Proud of the duties of his race, +With spirit meet for Warrior's place. +He strove to win by glorious deed, +Throned with the Gods, a priceless meed. +With him in speech and quick reply +Vrihaspati might hardly vie, +But never would his accents flow +For evil or for empty show. +In art and science duly trained, +His student vow he well maintained; +He learnt the lore for princes fit, +The Vedas and their Holy Writ, +And with his well-drawn bow at last +His mighty father's fame surpassed. +Of birth exalted, truthful, just, +With vigorous hand, with noble trust, +Well taught by aged twice-born men +Who gain and right could clearly ken, +Full well the claims and bounds he knew +Of duty, gain, and pleasure too: +Of memory keen, of ready tact, +In civil business prompt to act. +Reserved, his features ne'er disclosed +What counsel in his heart reposed. +All idle rage and mirth controlled, +He knew the times to give and hold, +Firm in his faith, of steadfast will, +He sought no wrong, he spoke no ill: +Not rashly swift, not idly slow, +His faults and others' keen to know. +Each merit, by his subtle sense; +He matched with proper recompense. +He knew the means that wealth provide, +And with keen eye expense could guide. +Wild elephants could he reclaim, +And mettled steeds could mount and tame. +No arm like his the bow could wield, +Or drive the chariot to the field. +Skilled to attack, to deal the blow, +Or lead a host against the foe: +Yea, e'en infuriate Gods would fear +To meet his arm in full career. +As the great sun in noontide blaze +Is glorious with his world of rays, +So Ráma with these virtues shone +Which all men loved to gaze upon. + + The aged monarch fain would rest, +And said within his weary breast, +"Oh that I might, while living yet, +My Ráma o'er the kingdom set. +And see, before my course be run, +The hallowed drops anoint my son; +See all this spacious land obey, +From side to side, my first-born's sway, +And then, my life and joy complete, +Obtain in heaven a blissful seat!" +In him the monarch saw combined +The fairest form, the noblest mind, +And counselled how his son might share, +The throne with him as Regent Heir. +For fearful signs in earth and sky, +And weakness warned him death was nigh: +But Ráma to the world endeared +By every grace his bosom cheered, +The moon of every eye, whose ray +Drove all his grief and fear away. +So duty urged that hour to seize, +Himself, his realm, to bless and please. + + From town and country, far and near, +He summoned people, prince, and peer. +To each he gave a meet abode, +And honoured all and gifts bestowed. +Then, splendid in his king's attire, +He viewed them, as the general Sire, +In glory of a God arrayed, +Looks on the creatures he has made. +But Kekaya's king he called not then +For haste, nor Janak, lord of men; +For after to each royal friend +The joyful tidings he would send. +Mid crowds from distant countries met +The king upon his throne was set; +Then honoured by the people, all +The rulers thronged into the hall. +On thrones assigned, each king in place +Looked silent on the monarch's face. + Then girt by lords of high renown + And throngs from hamlet and from town + He showed in regal pride, +As, honoured by the radiant band +Of blessed Gods that round him stand, +Lord Indra, Thousand-eyed. + + + + +Canto II. The People's Speech. + + +Then to the full assembly bowed +The monarch, and addressed the crowd +With gracious speech, in accents loud +As heavenly drum or thunder-cloud: + + "Needs not to you who know declare +How ever with paternal care +My fathers of Ikshváku's line +Have ruled the realm which now is mine. +I too have taught my feet to tread +The pathway of the mighty dead, +And with fond care that never slept +Have, as I could, my people kept. +So toiling still, and ne'er remiss +For all my people's weal and bliss, +Beneath the white umbrella's(260) shade. +Old age is come and strength decayed. +Thousands of years have o'er me flown, +And generations round me grown +And passed away. I crave at length +Repose and ease for broken strength. +Feeble and worn I scarce can bear +The ruler's toil, the judge's care, +With royal dignity, a weight +That tries the young and temperate. +I long to rest, my labour done, +And in my place to set my son, +If to the twice-born gathered here +My counsel wise and good appear. +For greater gifts than mine adorn +Ráma my son, my eldest-born. +Like Indra brave, before him fall +The foeman's cities, tower and wall. +Him prince of men for power and might, +The best maintainer of the right, +Fair as the moon when nothing bars +His glory close to Pushya's stars, +Him with to-morrow's light I fain +Would throne the consort of my reign. +A worthy lord for you, I ween, +Marked as her own by Fortune's Queen. +The triple world itself would be +Well ruled by such a king as he. +To such high bliss and happy fate +Will I the country dedicate, +And my sad heart will cease to grieve +If he the precious charge receive. +Thus is my careful plan matured, +Thus for myself is rest secured; +Lieges, approve the words I say, +Or point ye out some wiser way. +Devise your prudent plan. My mind +Is fondly to this thought inclined, +But men by keen debating move +Some middle course which all approve." + + The monarch ceased. In answer came +The joyous princes' glad acclaim. +So peacocks in the rain rejoice +And hail the cloud with lifted voice. +Murmurs of joy from thousands round +Shook the high palace with the sound. +Then when the gathered throng had learned +His will who right and gain discerned, +Peasant and townsman, priest and chief, +All met in consultation brief, +And soon agreed with one accord +Gave answer to their sovereign lord: +"King of the land, we know thee old: +Thousands of years have o'er thee rolled, +Ráma thy son, we pray, anoint, +And at thy side his place appoint +Our gallant prince, so brave and strong, +Riding in royal state along, +Our eyes with joyful pride will see +Screened by the shade that shelters thee." +Then spake the king again, as though +Their hearts' true wish he sought to know: +"These prayers for Ráma's rule suggest +One question to my doubting breast. +This thing, I pray, with truth explain: +Why would ye, while I justly reign, +That he, mine eldest son, should bear +His part with me as ruling heir?" +Then all the people made reply, +Peasant and townsman, low and high: +"Each noblest gift of form and mind, +O Monarch, in thy son we find. +Do thou the godlike virtues hear +Which Ráma to our hearts endear. +So richly blest with graces, none +In all the earth excels thy son: +Nay, who to match with him may claim +In truth, in justice, and in fame? +True to his promise, gentle, kind, +Unenvious, of grateful mind, +Versed in the law and firm of soul, +He keeps each sense with strict control. +With duteous care he loves to sit +By Bráhmans skilled in Holy Writ. +Hence brightest glory, ne'er to end, +And matchless fame his youth attend. +Skilled in the use of spear and shield, +And arms which heavenly warriors wield, +Supreme in war, unconquered yet +By man, fiend, God in battle met, +Whene'er in pomp of war he goes +'Gainst town or city of the foes, +He ever comes with Lakshman back +Victorious from the fierce attack. +Returning homeward from afar +Borne on his elephant or car, +He ever to the townsmen bends +And greets them as beloved friends, +Asks how each son, each servant thrives, +How fare our pupils, offerings, wives; +And like a father bids us tell, +Each for himself, that all is well. +If pain or grief the city tries +His heart is swift to sympathize. +When festive scenes our thoughts employ +He like a father shares the joy. +High is the fate, O King, that gave +Thy Ráma born to bless and save, +With filial virtues fair and mild +Like Kasyap old Maríchi's child. +Hence to the kingdom's distant ends +One general prayer for him ascends. +Each man in town and country prays +For Ráma's strength, health, length of days. +With hearts sincere, their wish the same, +The tender girl, the aged dame, +Subject and stranger, peasant, hind, +One thought impressed on every mind, +At evening and at dawning day +To all the Gods for Ráma pray. +Do thou, O King, of grace comply, +And hear the people's longing cry, +And let us on the throne by thee +The lotus-tinted Ráma see. + O thou who givest boons, attend; + A gracious ear, O Monarch, lend + And for our weal install, +Consenting to our earnest prayer, +Thy godlike Ráma Regent Heir, + Who seeks the good of all." + + + + +Canto III. Dasaratha's Precepts. + + +The monarch with the prayer complied +Of suppliant hands, on every side +Uplifted like a lotus-bed: +And then these gracious words he said: +"Great joy and mighty fame are mine +Because your loving hearts incline, +In full assembly clearly shown +To place my Ráma on the throne." +Then to Vasishtha, standing near, +And Vámadeva loud and clear +The monarch spoke that all might hear: +"'Tis pure and lovely Chaitra now +When flowers are sweet on every bough; +All needful things with haste prepare +That Ráma be appointed heir." + + Then burst the people's rapture out +In loud acclaim and joyful shout; +And when the tumult slowly ceased +The king addressed the holy priest: +"Give order, Saint, with watchful heed +For what the coming rite will need. +This day let all things ready wait +Mine eldest son to consecrate." +Best of all men of second birth +Vasishtha heard the lord of earth, +And gave commandment to the bands +Of servitors with lifted hands +Who waited on their master's eye: +"Now by to-morrow's dawn supply +Rich gold and herbs and gems of price +And offerings for the sacrifice, +Wreaths of white flowers and roasted rice, +And oil and honey, separate; +New garments and a car of state, +An elephant with lucky signs, +A fourfold host in ordered lines, +The white umbrella, and a pair +Of chowries,(261) and a banner fair; +A hundred vases, row on row, +To shine like fire in splendid glow, +A tiger's mighty skin, a bull +With gilded horns most beautiful. +All these, at dawn of coming day, +Around the royal shrine array, +Where burns the fire's undying ray. +Each palace door, each city gate +With wreaths of sandal decorate. +And with the garlands' fragrant scent +Let clouds of incense-smoke be blent. +Let food of noble kind and taste +Be for a hundred thousand placed; +Fresh curds with streams of milk bedewed +To feed the Bráhman multitude. +With care be all their wants supplied. +And mid the twice-born chiefs divide +Rich largess, with the early morn, +And oil and curds and roasted corn. +Soon as the sun has shown his light +Pronounce the prayer to bless the rite, +And then be all the Bráhmans called +And in their ordered seats installed. +Let all musicians skilled to play, +And dancing-girls in bright array +Stand ready in the second ring +Within the palace of the king. +Each honoured tree, each holy shrine +With leaves and flowery wreaths entwine, +And here and there beneath the shade +Be food prepared and presents laid. +Then brightly clad, in warlike guise, +With long swords girt upon their thighs, +Let soldiers of the nobler sort +March to the monarch's splendid court." + + Thus gave command the twice-born pair +To active servants stationed there. +Then hastened to the king and said +That all their task was duly sped, +The king to wise Sumantra spake: +"Now quick, my lord, thy chariot take, +And hither with thy swiftest speed +My son, my noble Ráma lead." + + Sumantra, ere the word was given, +His chariot from the court had driven, +And Ráma, best of all who ride +In cars, came sitting by his side. +The lords of men had hastened forth +From east and west and south and north, +Áryan and stranger, those who dwell +In the wild wood and on the fell, +And as the Gods to Indra, they +Showed honour to the king that day. + + Like Vásav, when his glorious form +Is circled by the Gods of storm, +Girt in his hall by kings he saw +His car-borne Ráma near him draw, +Like him who rules the minstrel band +Of heaven;(262) whose valour filled the land, +Of mighty arm and stately pride +Like a wild elephant in stride, +As fair in face as that fair stone +Dear to the moon, of moonbeams grown,(263) +With noble gifts and grace that took +The hearts of all, and chained each look, +World-cheering as the Lord of Rain +When floods relieve the parching plain. +The father, as the son came nigh, +Gazed with an ever-thirstier eye. +Sumantra helped the prince alight +From the good chariot passing bright, +And as to meet his sire he went +Followed behind him reverent. +Then Ráma clomb, the king to seek +That terrace like Kailása's peak, +And reached the presence of the king, +Sumantra closely following. +Before his father's face he came, +Raised suppliant hands and named his name,(264) +And bowing lowly as is meet +Paid reverence to the monarch's feet. +But soon as Dasaratha viewed +The prince in humble attitude, +He raised him by the hand in haste +And his beloved son embraced, +Then signed him to a glorious throne, +Gem-decked and golden, near his own. +Then Ráma, best of Raghu's line, +Made the fair seat with lustre shine +As when the orient sun upsprings +And his pure beam on Meru flings. +The glory flashed on roof and wall, +And with strange sheen suffused the hall, +As when the moon's pure rays are sent +Through autumn's star-lit firmament. +Then swelled his breast with joy and pride +As his dear son the father eyed, +E'en as himself more fair arrayed +In some clear mirror's face displayed. +The aged monarch gazed awhile, +Then thus addressed him with a smile, +As Kasyap, whom the worlds revere, +Speaks for the Lord of Gods to hear: +"O thou of all my sons most dear, +In virtue best, thy father's peer, +Child of my consort first in place, +Mine equal in her pride of race, +Because the people's hearts are bound +To thee by graces in thee found, +Be thou in Pushya's favouring hour +Made partner of my royal power. +I know that thou by nature's bent +Both modest art and excellent, +But though thy gifts no counsel need +My love suggests the friendly rede. +Mine own dear son, be modest still, +And rule each sense with earnest will. +Keep thou the evils far away +That spring from love and anger's sway. +Thy noble course alike pursue +In secret as in open view, +And every nerve, the love to gain +Of ministers and subjects, strain. +The happy prince who sees with pride +His thriving people satisfied; +Whose arsenals with arms are stored, +And treasury with golden hoard,-- +His friends rejoice as joyed the Blest +When Amrit crowned their eager quest. +So well, my child, thy course maintain, +And from all ill thy soul refrain." + + The friends of Ráma, gathered nigh, +Longing their lord to gratify, +Ran to Kausalyá's bower to tell +The tidings that would please her well. +She, host of dames, with many a gem, +And gold, and kine rewarded them. + + Then Ráma paid the reverence due, +Mounted the chariot, and withdrew, +And to his splendid dwelling drove +While crowds to show him honour strove. + The people, when the monarch's speech + Their willing ears had heard, + Were wild with joy as though on each + Great gifts had been conferred. + With meek and low salute each man + Turned to his home away, + And there with happy heart began + To all the Gods to pray. + + + + +Canto IV. Ráma Summoned. + + +The crowd dismissed, to high debate +The monarch called his peers of state, +And, counsel from their lips obtained, +Firm in his will his will explained: +"To-morrow with auspicious ray +The moon in Pushya's sign will stay; +Be that the time with happy fate +Mine eldest son to consecrate, +And let my Ráma, lotus-eyed, +As Regent o'er the state preside." + + He sought, within, his charioteer, +And cried "Again bring Ráma here." +To Ráma's home Sumantra hied +Again to be the prince's guide. +His coming, told to Ráma's ear, +Suggested anxious doubt and fear. +He bade the messenger be led +That instant in, and thus he said: +"Tell me the cause, omitting naught, +Why thou again my house hast sought." + + The envoy answered: "Prince, thy sire +Has sent thy presence to require. +My sender known, 'tis thine to say +If thou wilt go or answer nay." +Then Ráma, when he heard his speech, +Made haste the royal court to reach. +Soon as the monarch was aware +His dearest son was waiting there, +Eager the parley to begin +He bade them lead the prince within, +Soon as he passed the chamber door +The hero bent him to the floor, +And at a distance from his seat +Raised his joined hands his sire to greet. +The monarch raised him from the ground, +And loving arms about him wound, +Then pointed to a seat that shone +With gold for him to rest upon. +"Aged am I," he said, "and worn; +In life's best joys my share have borne; +Rites to the Gods, in hundreds, paid, +With gifts of corn and largess made. +I yearned for sons: my life is blest +With them and thee of sons the best. +No debt to saints or Bráhmans, no, +Nor spirits, Gods, or self I owe. +One duty now remains alone, +To set thee on thy father's throne. +Now therefore, Ráma, hear my rede, +And mark my words with duteous heed: +This day the peoples' general voice, +Elects thee king of love and choice, +And I, consenting to the prayer, +Will make thee, darling, Regent Heir. +Dread visions, each returning night, +With evil omens scare my sight. +Red meteors with a fearful sound +Shoot wildly downward to the ground, +While tempests lash the troubled air; +And they who read the stars declare +That, leagued against my natal sign, +Ráhu,(265) the Sun,(266) and Mars combine. +When portents dire as these appear, +A monarch's death or woe is near. +Then while my senses yet are spared, +And thought and will are unimpaired, +Be thou, my son, anointed king: +Men's fancy is a fickle thing. +To-day the moon, in order due, +Entered the sign Punarvasu,(267) +To-morrow, as the wise foretell, +In Pushya's favouring stars will dwell: +Then on the throne shalt thou be placed. +My soul, prophetic, counsels haste: +Thee, O my son, to-morrow I +As Regent Heir will sanctify. +So till the coming night be passed +Do thou and Sítá strictly fast: +From worldly thoughts thy soul refrain, +And couched on holy grass remain. +And let thy trusted lords attend +In careful watch upon their friend, +For, unexpected, check and bar +Our weightiest counsels often mar. +While Bharat too is far away +Making with royal kin his stay, +I deem the fittest time of all +Thee, chosen Regent, to install. +It may be Bharat still has stood +True to the counsels of the good, +Faithful to thee with tender trust, +With governed senses, pure and just. +But human minds, too well I know, +Will sudden changes undergo, +And by their constant deeds alone +The virtue of the good is shown. +Now, Ráma, go. My son, good night! +Fixt is to-morrow for the rite." + + Then Ráma paid the reverence due, +And quickly to his home withdrew. +He passed within, nor lingered there, +But sought his mother's mansion, where +The dame in linen robes arrayed +Devoutly in the chapel prayed +To Fortune's Queen, with utterance checked, +That she her Ráma would protect. +There was Sumitrá too, and there +Was Lakshman led by loving care: +And when the royal choice they knew +Sítá in haste was summoned too. +Absorbed, with half-shut eyes, the queen +Attended by the three was seen. +She knew that Pushya's lucky hour +Would raise her son to royal power, +So fixed with bated breath each thought +On God supreme, by all men sought. +To her, as thus she knelt and prayed, +Ráma drew near, due reverence paid, +And then to swell his mother's joy, +Thus spoke her own beloved boy; +"O mother dear, my sire's decree +Entrusts the people's weal to me. +To-morrow I, for so his will, +Anointed king, the throne shall fill. +The few last hours till night shall end +Sítá with me must fasting spend, +For so my father has decreed, +And holy priests with him agreed. +What vows soever thou mayst deem +My consecration's eve beseem, +Do thou, sweet mother, for my sake +And for beloved Sítá's make." + + When the glad news Kausalyá heard, +So long desired, so long deferred, +While tears of joy her utterance broke, +In answer to her son she spoke: +"Long be thy life, my darling: now +Thy prostrate foes before thee bow. +Live long and with thy bright success +My friends and dear Sumitrá's bless. +Surely the stars were wondrous fair +When thee, sweet son, thy mother bare, +That thy good gifts such love inspire +And win the favour of thy sire. +With thee I travailed not in vain; +Those lotus eyes reward my pain, +And all the glory of the line +Of old Ikshváku will be thine." + + He smiled, and on his brother gazed +Who sate with reverent hands upraised, +And said: "My brother, thou must be +Joint-ruler of this land with me. +My second self thou, Lakshman, art, +And in my fortune bearest part. +Be thine, Sumitrá's son, to know +The joys from regal power that flow. +My life itself, the monarch's seat, +For thy dear sake to me are sweet." + + Thus Ráma to his brother said, +To both his mothers(268) bowed his head, +And then with Sítá by his side +To his own house the hero hied. + + + + +Canto V. Ráma's Fast. + + +Then Saint Vasishtha to the king +Came ready at his summoning. +"Now go," exclaimed the monarch, "thou +Enriched by fervent rite and vow, +For Ráma and his wife ordain +The fast, that joy may bless his reign." + + The best of those who Scripture know +Said to the king, "My lord, I go." +To Ráma's house Vasishtha hied, +The hero's fast by rule to guide, +And skilled in sacred texts to tell +Each step to him instructed well. +Straight to Prince Ráma's high abode, +That like a cloud pale-tinted showed, +Borne in his priestly car he rode. +Two courts he passed, and in the third +He stayed his car. Then Ráma heard +The holy sage was come, and flew +To honour him with honour due. +He hastened to the car and lent +His hand to aid the priest's descent. +Then spoke Vasishtha words like these, +Pleased with his reverent courtesies, +With pleasant things his heart to cheer +Who best deserved glad news to hear: +"Prince, thou hast won thy father's grace, +And thine will be the Regent's place: +Now with thy Sítá, as is right, +In strictest fasting spend the night, +For when the morrow's dawn is fair +The king will consecrate his heir: +So Nahush,(269) as the wise relate, +Yayáti joyed to consecrate." + + Thus having said, Vasishtha next +Ordained the fast by rule and text, +For Ráma faithful to his vows +And the Videhan dame his spouse. +Then from the prince's house he hied +With courteous honours gratified. +Round Ráma gathered every friend +In pleasant talk a while to spend. +He bade good night to all at last, +And to his inner chamber passed. +Then Ráma's house shone bright and gay +With men and maids in glad array, +As in the morning some fair lake +When all her lotuses awake, +And every bird that loves the flood +Flits joyous round each opening bud. + + Forth from the house Vasishtha drove, +That with the king's in splendour strove, +And all the royal street he viewed +Filled with a mighty multitude +The eager concourse blocked each square, +Each road and lane and thoroughfare, +And joyous shouts on every side +Rose like the roar of Ocean's tide, +As streams of men together came +With loud huzza and glad acclaim. +The ways were watered, swept and clean, +And decked with flowers and garlands green +And all Ayodhyá shone arrayed +With banners on the roofs that played. +Men, women, boys with eager eyes, +Expecting when the sun should rise, +Stood longing for the herald ray +Of Ráma's consecration day, +To see, a source of joy to all, +The people-honoured festival. + + The priest advancing slowly through +The mighty crowd he cleft in two, +Near to the monarch's palace drew. +He sought the terrace, by the stair, +Like a white cloud-peak high in air, +The reverend king of men to meet +Who sate upon his splendid seat: +Thus will Vrihaspati arise +To meet the monarch of the skies. +But when the king his coming knew, +He left his throne and near him drew +Questioned by him Vasishtha said +That all his task was duly sped. +Then all who sate there, honouring +Vasishtha, rose as rose the king. +Vasishtha bade his lord adieu, +And all the peers, dismissed, withdrew. +Then as a royal lion seeks +His cave beneath the rocky peaks, +So to the chambers where abode +His consorts Dasaratha strode. + Full-thronged were those delightful bowers + With women richly dressed, + And splendid as the radiant towers + Where Indra loves to rest. + Then brighter flashed a thousand eyes + With the light his presence lent, + As, when the moon begins to rise + The star thronged firmament. + + + + +Canto VI. The City Decorated. + + +Then Ráma bathed in order due, +His mind from worldly thoughts withdrew, +And with his large-eyed wife besought +Náráyan, as a votary ought. +Upon his head the brimming cup +Of holy oil he lifted up, +Then placed within the kindled fire +The offering to that heavenly Sire, +And as he sipped the remnant prayed +To Him for blessing and for aid. +Then with still lips and tranquil mind +With his Videhan he reclined, +In Vishnu's chapel, on a bed +Where holy grass was duly spread, +While still the prince's every thought +The God supreme, Náráyan, sought. +One watch remained the night to close +When Ráma from his couch arose, +And bade the men and maids adorn +His palace for the solemn morn. +He heard the bards and heralds raise +Auspicious strains of joy and praise; +And breathed devout, with voice restrained, +The hymn for morning rites ordained; +Then, with his head in reverence bowed, +Praised Madhu's conquering foe aloud, +And, in pure linen robes arrayed, +The priests to raise their voices prayed. +Obedient to the summons they +Proclaimed to all the festal day. +The Bráhmans' voices, deep and sweet, +Resounded through the crowded street, +And echoed through Ayodhyá went +By many a loud-toned instrument. +Then all the people joyed to hear +That Ráma with his consort dear +Had fasted till the morning light +In preparation for the rite. +Swiftly the joyful tidings through +Ayodhyá's crowded city flew, +And soon as dawn appeared, each man +To decorate the town began. +In all the temples bright and fair +As white clouds towering in the air, +In streets, and where the cross-ways met, +Where holy fig-trees had been set, +In open square, in sacred shade, +Where merchants' shops their wealth displayed, +On all the mansions of the great, +And householders of wealth and state, +Where'er the people loved to meet, +Where'er a tree adorned the street, +Gay banners floated to the wind, +And ribands round the staves were twined. +Then clear the singers' voices rang, +As, charming mind and ear, they sang. +Here players shone in bright attire, +There dancing women swelled the quire. +Each with his friend had much to say +Of Ráma's consecration-day: +Yea, even children, as they played +At cottage doors beneath the shade. +The royal street with flowers was strown +Which loving hands in heaps had thrown, +And here and there rich incense lent +Its fragrance to the garland's scent; +And all was fresh and fair and bright +In honour of the coming rite. +With careful foresight to illume +With borrowed blaze the midnight gloom, +The crowds erected here and there +Trees in each street gay lamps to bear. +The city thus from side to side +In festal guise was beautified. +The people of the town who longed +To view the rite together thronged, +And filling every court and square +Praised the good king in converse there: +"Our high-souled king! He throws a grace +On old Ikshváku's royal race. +He feels his years' increasing weight, +And makes his son associate. +Great joy to us the choice will bring +Of Ráma for our lord and king. +The good and bad to him are known, +And long will he protect his own. +No pride his prudent breast may swell, +Most just, he loves his brothers well, +And to us all that love extends, +Cherished as brothers and as friends. +Long may our lord in life remain, +Good Dasaratha, free from stain, +By whose most gracious favour we +Ráma anointed king shall see." + + Such were the words the townsmen spoke +Heard by the gathering countryfolk, +Who from the south, north, east, and west, +Stirred by the joyful tidings, pressed. +For by their eager longing led +To Ráma's consecration sped +The villagers from every side, +And filled Ayodhyá's city wide. +This way and that way strayed the crowd, +While rose a murmur long and loud, +As when the full moon floods the skies +And Ocean's waves with thunder rise. + That town, like Indra's city fair, + While peasants thronged her ways, + Tumultuous roared like Ocean, where + Each flood-born monster plays. + + + + +Canto VII. Manthará's Lament. + + +It chanced a slave-born handmaid, bred +With Queen Kaikeyí, fancy-led, +Mounted the stair and stood upon +The terrace like the moon that shone. +Thence Manthará at ease surveyed +Ayodhyá to her eyes displayed, +Where water cooled the royal street, +Where heaps of flowers were fresh and sweet, +And costly flags and pennons hung +On roof and tower their shadow flung; +With covered ways prepared in haste, +And many an awning newly placed; +With sandal-scented streams bedewed, +Thronged by a new bathed multitude: +Whose streets were full of Bráhman bands +With wreaths and sweetmeats in their hands. +Loud instruments their music raised, +And through the town, where'er she gazed, +The doors of temples glittered white, +And the maid marvelled at the sight. + + Of Ráma's nurse who, standing by, +Gazed with a joy-expanded eye, +In robes of purest white attired, +The wondering damsel thus inquired: + + "Does Ráma's mother give away +Rich largess to the crowds to-day, +On some dear object fondly bent, +Or blest with measureless content? +What mean these signs of rare delight +On every side that meet my sight? +Say, will the king with joy elate +Some happy triumph celebrate?" + + The nurse, with transport uncontrolled, +Her glad tale to the hump-back told: +"Our lord the king to-morrow morn +Will consecrate his eldest-born, +And raise, in Pushya's favouring hour, +Prince Ráma to the royal power." +As thus the nurse her tidings spoke, +Rage in the hump-back's breast awoke. +Down from the terrace, like the head +Of high Kailása's hill, she sped. +Sin in her thoughts, her soul aflame, +Where Queen Kaikeyí slept, she came: +"Why sleepest thou?" she cried, "arise, +Peril is near, unclose thine eyes. +Ah, heedless Queen, too blind to know +What floods of sin above thee flow! +Thy boasts of love and grace are o'er: +Thine is the show and nothing more. +His favour is an empty cheat, +A torrent dried by summer's heat." + + Thus by the artful maid addressed +In cruel words from raging breast, +The queen, sore troubled, spoke in turn; +"What evil news have I to learn? +That mournful eye, that altered cheek +Of sudden woe or danger speak." + + Such were the words Kaikeyí said: +Then Manthará, her eyeballs red +With fury, skilled with treacherous art +To grieve yet more her lady's heart, +From Ráma, in her wicked hate, +Kaikeyí's love to alienate, +Upon her evil purpose bent +Began again most eloquent: +"Peril awaits thee swift and sure, +And utter woe defying cure; +King Dasaratha will create +Prince Ráma Heir Associate. +Plunged in the depths of wild despair, +My soul a prey to pain and care, +As though the flames consumed me, zeal +Has brought me for my lady's weal, +Thy grief, my Queen, is grief to me: +Thy gain my greatest gain would be. +Proud daughter of a princely line, +The rights of consort queen are thine. +How art thou, born of royal race, +Blind to the crimes that kings debase? +Thy lord is gracious, to deceive, +And flatters, but thy soul to grieve, +While thy pure heart that thinks no sin +Knows not the snares that hem thee in. +Thy husband's lips on thee bestow +Soft soothing word, an empty show: +The wealth, the substance, and the power +This day will be Kausalyá's dower. +With crafty soul thy child he sends +To dwell among thy distant friends, +And, every rival far from sight, +To Ráma gives the power and might. +Ah me! for thou, unhappy dame, +Deluded by a husband's name, +With more than mother's love hast pressed +A serpent to thy heedless breast, +And cherished him who works thee woe, +No husband but a deadly foe. +For like a snake, unconscious Queen, +Or enemy who stabs unseen, +King Dasaratha all untrue +Has dealt with thee and Bharat too. +Ah, simple lady, long beguiled +By his soft words who falsely smiled! +Poor victim of the guileless breast, +A happier fate thou meritest. +For thee and thine destruction waits +When he Prince Ráma consecrates. +Up, lady, while there yet is time; +Preserve thyself, prevent the crime. +Up, from thy careless ease, and free +Thyself, O Queen, thy son, and me!" + + Delighted at the words she said, +Kaikeyí lifted from the bed, +Like autumn's moon, her radiant head, +And joyous at the tidings gave +A jewel to the hump-back slave; +And as she gave the precious toy +She cried in her exceeding joy: +"Take this, dear maiden, for thy news +Most grateful to mine ear, and choose +What grace beside most fitly may +The welcome messenger repay. +I joy that Ráma gains the throne: +Kausalyá's son is as mine own." + + + + +Canto VIII. Manthará's Speech. + + +The damsel's breast with fury burned: +She answered, as the gift she spurned: +"What time, O simple Queen, is this +For idle dreams of fancied bliss? +Hast thou not sense thy state to know, +Engulfed in seas of whelming woe; +Sick as I am with grief and pain +My lips can scarce a laugh restrain +To see thee hail with ill-timed joy +A peril mighty to destroy. +I mourn for one so fondly blind: +What woman of a prudent mind +Would welcome, e'en as thou hast done, +The lordship of a rival's son, +Rejoiced to find her secret foe +Empowered, like death, to launch the blow; +I see that Ráma still must fear +Thy Bharat, to his throne too near. +Hence is my heart disquieted, +For those who fear are those we dread. +Lakshman, the mighty bow who draws, +With all his soul serves Ráma's cause; +And chains as strong to Bharat bind +Satrughna, with his heart and mind, +Now next to Ráma, lady fair, +Thy Bharat is the lawful heir: +And far remote, I ween, the chance +That might the younger two advance. +Yes, Queen, 'tis Ráma that I dread, +Wise, prompt, in warlike science bred; +And oh, I tremble when I think +Of thy dear child on ruin's brink. +Blest with a lofty fate is she, +Kausalyá; for her son will be +Placed, when the moon and Pushya meet, +By Bráhmans on the royal seat, +Thou as a slave in suppliant guise +Must wait upon Kausalyá's eyes, +With all her wealth and bliss secured +And glorious from her foes assured. +Her slave with us who serve thee, thou +Wilt see thy son to Ráma bow, +And Sítá's friends exult o'er all, +While Bharat's wife shares Bharat's fall." + + As thus the maid in wrath complained, +Kaikeyí saw her heart was pained, +And answered eager in defence +Of Ráma's worth and excellence: +"Nay, Ráma, born the monarch's heir, +By holy fathers trained with care, +Virtuous, grateful, pure, and true, +Claims royal sway as rightly due. +He, like a sire, will long defend +Each brother, minister, and friend. +Then why, O hump-back, art thou pained +To hear that he the throne has gained? +Be sure when Ráma's empire ends, +The kingdom to my son descends, +Who, when a hundred years are flown, +Shall sit upon his fathers' throne. +Why is thine heart thus sad to see +The joy that is and long shall be, +This fortune by possession sure +And hopes which we may count secure? +Dear as the darling son I bore +Is Ráma, yea, or even more. +Most duteous to Kausalyá, he +Is yet more dutiful to me. +What though he rule, we need not fear: +His brethren to his soul are dear. +And if the throne Prince Ráma fill +Bharat will share the empire still." + + She ceased. The troubled damsel sighed +Sighs long and hot, and thus replied: +"What madness has possessed thy mind, +To warnings deaf, to dangers blind? +Canst thou not see the floods of woe +That threaten o'er thine head to flow: +First Ráma will the throne acquire, +Then Ráma's son succeed his sire, +While Bharat will neglected pine +Excluded from the royal line. +Not all his sons, O lady fair, +The kingdom of a monarch share: +All ruling when a sovereign dies +Wild tumult in the state would rise. +The eldest, be he good or ill, +Is ruler by the father's will. +Know, tender mother, that thy son +Without a friend and all undone, +Far from the joyous ease of home +An alien from his race will roam. +I sped to thee for whom I feel, +But thy fond heart mistakes my zeal, +Thy hand a present would bestow +Because thy rival triumphs so. +When Ráma once begins his sway +Without a foe his will to stay, +Thy darling Bharat he will drive +To distant lands if left alive. +By thee the child was sent away +Beneath his grandsire's roof to stay. +Even in stocks and stones perforce +Will friendship spring from intercourse. +The young Satrughna too would go +With Bharat, for he loved him so. +As Lakshman still to Ráma cleaves, +He his dear Bharat never leaves. +There is an ancient tale they tell: +A tree the foresters would fell +Was saved by reeds that round it stood, +For love that sprang of neighbourhood. +So Lakshman Ráma will defend, +And each on each for aid depend. +Such fame on earth their friendship wins +As that which binds the Heavenly Twins. +And Ráma ne'er will purpose wrong +To Lakshman, for their love is strong. +But Bharat, Oh, of this be sure, +Must evil at his hands endure. +Come, Ráma from his home expel +An exile in the woods to dwell. +The plan, O Queen, which I advise +Secures thy weal if thou be wise. +So we and all thy kith and kin +Advantage from thy gain shall win. +Shall Bharat, meet for happier fate, +Born to endure his rival's hate, +With all his fortune ruined cower +And dread his brother's mightier power! +Up, Queen, to save thy son, arise; +Prostrate at Ráma's feet he lies. +So the proud elephant who leads +His trooping consorts through the reeds +Falls in the forest shade beneath +The lion's spring and murderous teeth. +Scorned by thee in thy bliss and pride +Kausalyá was of old defied, +And will she now forbear to show +The vengeful rancour of a foe? + O Queen, thy darling is undone + When Ráma's hand has once begun + Ayodhyá's realm to sway, + Come, win the kingdom for thy child + And drive the alien to the wild + In banishment to-day." + + + + +Canto IX. The Plot. + + +As fury lit Kaikeyí's eyes +She spoke with long and burning sighs: +"This day my son enthroned shall see, +And Ráma to the woods shall flee. +But tell me, damsel, if thou can, +A certain way, a skilful plan +That Bharat may the empire gain, +And Ráma's hopes be nursed in vain." + + The lady ceased. The wicked maid +The mandate of her queen obeyed, +And darkly plotting Ráma's fall +Responded to Kaikeyí's call. + + "I will declare, do thou attend, +How Bharat may his throne ascend. +Dost thou forget what things befell? +Or dost thou feign, remembering well? +Or wouldst thou hear my tongue repeat +A story for thy need so meet? +Gay lady, if thy will be so, +Now hear the tale of long ago, +And when my tongue has done its part +Ponder the story in thine heart. +When Gods and demons fought of old, +Thy lord, with royal saints enrolled, +Sped to the war with thee to bring +His might to aid the Immortals' King. +Far to the southern land he sped +Where Dandak's mighty wilds are spread, +To Vaijayanta's city swayed +By Sambara, whose flag displayd +The hugest monster of the sea. +Lord of a hundred wiles was be; +With might which Gods could never blame +Against the King of Heaven he came. +Then raged the battle wild and dread, +And mortal warriors fought and bled; +The fiends by night with strength renewed +Charged, slew the sleeping multitude. +Thy lord, King Dasaratha, long +Stood fighting with the demon throng, +But long of arm, unmatched in strength, +Fell wounded by their darts at length. +Thy husband, senseless, by thine aid +Was from the battle field conveyed, +And wounded nigh to death thy lord +Was by thy care to health restored. +Well pleased the grateful monarch sware +To grant thy first and second prayer. +Thou for no favour then wouldst sue, +The gifts reserved for season due; +And he, thy high-souled lord, agreed +To give the boons when thou shouldst need. +Myself I knew not what befell, +But oft the tale have heard thee tell, +And close to thee in friendship knit +Deep in my heart have treasured it. +Remind thy husband of his oath, +Recall the boons and claim them both, +That Bharat on the throne be placed +With rites of consecration graced, +And Ráma to the woods be sent +For twice seven years of banishment. +Go, Queen, the mourner's chamber(270) seek, +With angry eye and burning cheek; +And with disordered robes and hair +On the cold earth lie prostrate there. +When the king comes still mournful lie, +Speak not a word nor meet his eye, +But let thy tears in torrent flow, +And lie enamoured of thy woe. +Well do I know thou long hast been, +And ever art, his darling queen. +For thy dear sake, O well-loved dame, +The mighty king would brave the flame, +But ne'er would anger thee, or brook +To meet his favourite's wrathful look. +Thy loving lord would even die +Thy fancy, Queen, to gratify, +And never could he arm his breast +To answer nay to thy request. +Listen and learn, O dull of sense, +Thine all-resistless influence. +Gems he will offer, pearls and gold: +Refuse his gifts, be stern and cold. +Those proffered boons at length recall, +And claim them till he grants thee all. +And O my lady, high in bliss, +With heedful thought forget not this. +When from the ground his queen he lifts +And grants again the promised gifts, +Bind him with oaths he cannot break +And thy demands unflnching, make. +That Ráma travel to the wild +Five years and nine from home exiled, +And Bharat, best of all who reign, +The empire of the land obtain. +For when this term of years has fled +Over the banished Ráma's head, +Thy royal son to vigour grown +And rooted firm will stand alone. +The king, I know, is well inclined, +And this the hour to move his mind. +Be bold: the threatened rite prevent, +And force the king from his intent." + + She ceased. So counselled to her bane +Disguised beneath a show of gain, +Kaikeyí in her joy and pride +To Manthará again replied: +"Thy sense I envy, prudent maid; +With sagest lore thy lids persuade. +No hump-back maid in all the earth, +For wise resolve, can match thy worth. +Thou art alone with constant zeal +Devoted to thy lady's weal. +Dear girl, without thy faithful aid +I had not marked the plot he laid. +Full of all guile and sin and spite +Misshapen hump-backs shock the sight: +But thou art fair and formed to please, +Bent like a lily by the breeze. +I look thee o'er with watchful eye, +And in thy frame no fault can spy; +The chest so deep, the waist so trim, +So round the lines of breast and limb.(271) +Thy cheeks with moonlike beauty shine, +And the warm wealth of youth is thine. +Thy legs, my girl, are long and neat, +And somewhat long thy dainty feet, +While stepping out before my face +Thou seemest like a crane to pace. +The thousand wiles are in thy breast +Which Sambara the fiend possessed, +And countless others all thine own, +O damsel sage, to thee are known. +Thy very hump becomes thee too, +O thou whose face is fair to view, +For there reside in endless store +Plots, wizard wiles, and warrior lore. +A golden chain I'll round it fling +When Ráma's flight makes Bharat king: +Yea, polished links of finest gold, +When once the wished for prize I hold +With naught to fear and none to hate, +Thy hump, dear maid, shall decorate. +A golden frontlet wrought with care, +And precious jewels shalt thou wear: +Two lovely robes around thee fold, +And walk a Goddess to behold, +Bidding the moon himself compare +His beauty with a face so fair. +With scent of precious sandal sweet +Down to the nails upon thy feet, +First of the household thou shalt go +And pay with scorn each battled foe." + + Kaikeyí's praise the damsel heard, +And thus again her lady stirred, +Who lay upon her beauteous bed +Like fire upon the altar fed: +"Dear Queen, they build the bridge in vain +When swollen streams are dry again. +Arise, thy glorious task complete, +And draw the king to thy retreat." + + The large-eyed lady left her bower +Exulting in her pride of power, +And with the hump-back sought the gloom +And silence of the mourner's room. +The string of priceless pearls that hung +Around her neck to earth she flung, +With all the wealth and lustre lent +By precious gem and ornament. +Then, listening to her slave's advice, +Lay, like a nymph from Paradise. +As on the ground her limbs she laid +Once more she cried unto the maid: +"Soon must thou to the monarch say +Kaikeyí's soul has past away, +Or, Ráma banished as we planned, +My son made king shall rule the land. +No more for gold and gems I care, +For brave attire or dainty fare. +If Ráma should the throne ascend, +That very hour my life will end." + + The royal lady wounded through +The bosom with the darts that flew + Launched from the hump-back's tongue +Pressed both her hands upon her side, +And o'er and o'er again she cried + With wildering fury stung: +"Yes, it shall be thy task to tell +That I have hurried hence to dwell + In Yáma's realms of woe, +Or happy Bharat shall be king, +And doomed to years of wandering + Kausalyá's son shall go. +I heed not dainty viands now +Fair wreaths of flowers to twine my brow, + Soft balm or precious scent: +My very life I count as naught, +Nothing on earth can claim my thought + But Ráma's banishment." + She spoke these words of cruel ire; +Then stripping off her gay attire, + The cold bare floor she pressed. +So, falling from her home on high, +Some lovely daughter of the sky + Upon the ground might rest. +With darkened brow and furious mien, +Stripped of her gems and wreath, the queen + In spotless beauty lay, +Like heaven obscured with gathering cloud, +When shades of midnight darkness shroud + Each star's expiring ray. + + + + +Canto X. Dasaratha's Speech. + + +As Queen Kaikeyí thus obeyed +The sinful counsel of her maid +She sank upon the chamber floor, +As sinks in anguish, wounded sore, +An elephant beneath the smart +Of the wild hunter's venomed dart. +The lovely lady in her mind +Revolved the plot her maid designed, +And prompt the gain and risk to scan +She step by step approved the plan. +Misguided by the hump-back's guile +She pondered her resolve awhile, +As the fair path that bliss secured +The miserable lady lured, +Devoted to her queen, and swayed +By hopes of gain and bliss, the maid +Rejoiced, her lady's purpose known, +And deemed the prize she sought her own. +Then bent upon her purpose dire, +Kaikeyí with her soul on fire, +Upon the floor lay, languid, down, +Her brows contracted in a frown. +The bright-hued wreath that bound her hair, +Chains, necklets, jewels rich and rare, +Stripped off by her own fingers lay +Spread on the ground in disarray, +And to the floor a lustre lent +As stars light up the firmament. +Thus prostrate in the mourner's cell, +In garb of woe the lady fell, +Her long hair in a single braid, +Like some fair nymph of heaven dismayed.(272) + + The monarch, Ráma to install, +With thoughtful care had ordered all, +And now within his home withdrew, +Dismissing first his retinue. +Now all the town has heard, thought he, +What joyful rite the morn will see. +So turned he to her bower to cheer +With the glad news his darling's ear. +Majestic, as the Lord of Night, +When threatened by the Dragon's might, +Bursts radiant on the evening sky +Pale with the clouds that wander by, +So Dasaratha, great in fame, +To Queen Kaikeyí's palace came. +There parrots flew from tree to tree, +And gorgeous peacocks wandered free, +While ever and anon was heard +The note of some glad water-bird. +Here loitered dwarf and hump-backed maid, +There lute and lyre sweet music played. +Here, rich in blossom, creepers twined +O'er grots with wondrous art designed, +There Champac and Asoka flowers +Hung glorious o'er the summer bowers, +And mid the waving verdure rose +Gold, silver, ivory porticoes. +Through all the months in ceaseless store +The trees both fruit and blossom bore. +With many a lake the grounds were graced; +Seats gold and silver, here were placed; +Here every viand wooed the taste, +It was a garden meet to vie +E'en with the home of Gods on high. +Within the mansion rich and vast +The mighty Dasaratha passed: +Not there was his beloved queen +On her fair couch reclining seen. +With love his eager pulses beat +For the dear wife he came to meet, +And in his blissful hopes deceived, +He sought his absent love and grieved. +For never had she missed the hour +Of meeting in her sumptuous bower, +And never had the king of men +Entered the empty room till then. +Still urged by love and anxious thought +News of his favourite queen he sought, +For never had his loving eyes +Found her or selfish or unwise. +Then spoke at length the warder maid, +With hands upraised and sore afraid: +"My Lord and King, the queen has sought +The mourner's cell with rage distraught." + + The words the warder maiden said +He heard with soul disquieted, +And thus as fiercer grief assailed, +His troubled senses wellnigh failed. +Consumed by torturing fires of grief +The king, the world's imperial chief, +His lady lying on the ground +In most unqueenly posture, found. +The aged king, all pure within, +Saw the young queen resolved on sin, +Low on the ground, his own sweet wife, +To him far dearer than his life, +Like some fair creeping plant uptorn, +Or like a maid of heaven forlorn, +A nymph of air or Goddess sent +From Swarga down in banishment. + + As some wild elephant who tries +To soothe his consort as she lies +Struck by the hunter's venomed dart, +So the great king disturbed in heart, +Strove with soft hand and fond caress +To soothe his darling queen's distress, +And in his love addressed with sighs +The lady of the lotus eyes: +"I know not, Queen, why thou shouldst be +Thus angered to the heart with me. +Say, who has slighted thee, or whence +Has come the cause of such offence +That in the dust thou liest low, +And rendest my fond heart with woe, +As if some goblin of the night +Had struck thee with a deadly blight, +And cast foul influence on her +Whose spells my loving bosom stir? +I have Physicians famed for skill, +Each trained to cure some special ill: +My sweetest lady, tell thy pain, +And they shall make thee well again. +Whom, darling, wouldst thou punished see? +Or whom enriched with lordly fee? +Weep not, my lovely Queen, and stay +This grief that wears thy frame away; +Speak, and the guilty shall be freed. +The guiltless be condemned to bleed, +The poor enriched, the rich abased, +The low set high, the proud disgraced. +My lords and I thy will obey, +All slaves who own thy sovereign sway; +And I can ne'er my heart incline +To check in aught one wish of thine. +Now by my life I pray thee tell +The thoughts that in thy bosom dwell. +The power and might thou knowest well, +Should from thy breast all doubt expel. +I swear by all my merit won, +Speak, and thy pleasure shall be done. +Far as the world's wide bounds extend +My glorious empire knows no end. +Mine are the tribes in eastern lands, +And those who dwell on Sindhu's sands: +Mine is Suráshtra, far away, +Suvíra's realm admits my sway. +My best the southern nations fear, +The Angas and the Vangas hear. +And as lord paramount I reign +O'er Magadh and the Matsyas' plain, +Kosal, and Kási's wide domain:(273) +All rich in treasures of the mine, +In golden corn, sheep, goats, and kine. +Choose what thou wilt. Kaikeyí, thence: +But tell me, O my darling, whence +Arose thy grief, and it shall fly +Like hoar-frost when the sun is high." + + She, by his loving words consoled, +Longed her dire purpose to unfold, +And sought with sharper pangs to wring +The bosom of her lord the king. + + + + +Canto XI. The Queen's Demand. + + +To him enthralled by love, and blind, +Pierced by his darts who shakes the mind,(274) +Kaikeyí with remorseless breast +Her grand purpose thus expressed: +"O King, no insult or neglect +Have I endured, or disrespect. +One wish I have, and faith would see +That longing granted, lord, by thee. +Now pledge thy word if thou incline +To listen to this prayer of mine, +Then I with confidence will speak, +And thou shalt hear the boon I seek." + + Ere she had ceased, the monarch fell, +A victim to the lady's spell, +And to the deadly snare she set +Sprang, like a roebuck to the net. +Her lover raised her drooping head, +Smiled, playing with her hair, and said: +"Hast thou not learnt, wild dame, till now +That there is none so dear as thou +To me thy loving husband, save +My Ráma bravest of the brave? +By him my race's high-souled heir, +By him whom none can match, I swear, +Now speak the wish that on thee weighs: +By him whose right is length of days, +Whom if my fond paternal eye +Saw not one hour I needs must die,-- +I swear by Ráma my dear son, +Speak, and thy bidding shall be done. +Speak, darling; if thou choose, request +To have the heart from out my breast; +Regard my words, sweet love, and name +The wish thy mind thinks fit to frame. +Nor let thy soul give way to doubt: +My power should drive suspicion out. +Yea, by my merits won I swear, +Speak, darling, I will grant thy prayer." + + The queen, ambitious, overjoyed +To see him by her plot decoyed, +More eager still her aims to reach, +Spoke her abominable speech: +"A boon thou grantest, nothing loth, +And swearest with repeated oath. +Now let the thirty Gods and three +My witnesses, with Indra, be. +Let sun and moon and planets hear, +Heaven, quarters, day and night, give ear. +The mighty world, the earth outspread, +With bards of heaven and demons dread; +The ghosts that walk in midnight shade, +And household Gods, our present aid, +A every being great and small +To hear and mark the oath I call." + + When thus the archer king was bound, +With treacherous arts and oaths enwound, +She to her bounteous lord subdued +By blinding love, her speech renewed: +"Remember, King, that long-past day +Of Gods' and demons' battle fray. +And how thy foe in doubtful strife +Had nigh bereft thee of thy life. +Remember, it was only I +Preserved thee when about to die, +And thou for watchful love and care +Wouldst grant my first and second prayer. +Those offered boons, pledged with thee then, +I now demand, O King of men, +Of thee, O Monarch, good and just, +Whose righteous soul observes each trust. +If thou refuse thy promise sworn, +I die, despised, before the morn. +These rites in Ráma's name begun-- +Transfer them, and enthrone my son. +The time is come to claim at last +The double boon of days long-past, +When Gods and demons met in fight, +And thou wouldst fain my care requite. +Now forth to Dandak's forest drive +Thy Ráma for nine years and five, +And let him dwell a hermit there +With deerskin coat and matted hair. +Without a rival let my boy +The empire of the land enjoy, +And let mine eyes ere morning see +Thy Ráma to the forest flee." + + + + +Canto XII. Dasaratha's Lament. + + +The monarch, as Kaikeyí pressed +With cruel words her dire request, +Stood for a time absorbed in thought +While anguish in his bosom wrought. +"Does some wild dream my heart assail? +Or do my troubled senses fail? +Does some dire portent scare my view? +Or frenzy's stroke my soul subdue?" +Thus as he thought, his troubled mind +In doubt and dread no rest could find, +Distressed and trembling like a deer +Who sees the dreaded tigress near. +On the bare ground his limbs he threw, +And many a long deep sigh he drew, +Like a wild snake, with fury blind, +By charms within a ring confined. +Once as the monarch's fury woke, +"Shame on thee!" from his bosom broke, +And then in sense-bewildering pain +He fainted on the ground again. +At length, when slowly strength returned, +He answered as his eyeballs burned +With the wild fury of his ire +Consuming her, as 'twere, with fire: +"Fell traitress, thou whose thoughts design +The utter ruin of my line, +What wrong have I or Ráma done? +Speak murderess, speak thou wicked one, +Seeks he not evermore to please +Thee with all sonlike courtesies? +By what persuasion art thou led +To bring this ruin on his head? +Ah me, that fondly unaware +I brought thee home my life to share, +Called daughter of a king, in truth +A serpent with a venomed tooth! +What fault can I pretend to find +In Ráma praised by all mankind, +That I my darling should forsake? +No, take my life, my glory take: +Let either queen be from me torn, +But not my well-loved eldest-born. +Him but to see is highest bliss, +And death itself his face to miss. +The world may sunless stand, the grain +May thrive without the genial rain, +But if my Ráma be not nigh +My spirit from its frame will fly. +Enough, thine impious plan forgo, +O thou who plottest sin and woe. +My head before thy feet, I kneel, +And pray thee some compassion feel. +O wicked dame, what can have led +Thy heart to dare a plot so dread? +Perchance thy purpose is to sound +The grace thy son with me has found; +Perchance the words that, all these days, +Thou still hast said in Ráma's praise, +Were only feigned, designed to cheer +With flatteries a father's ear. +Soon as thy grief, my Queen, I knew, +My bosom felt the anguish too. +In empty halls art thou possessed, +And subject to anothers' hest? +Now on Ikshváku's ancient race +Falls foul disorder and disgrace, +If thou, O Queen, whose heart so long +Has loved the good should choose the wrong. +Not once, O large-eyed dame, hast thou +Been guilty of offence till now, +Nor said a word to make me grieve, +Now will I now thy sin believe. +With thee my Ráma used to hold +Like place with Bharat lofty-souled. +As thou so often, when the pair +Were children yet, wouldst fain declare. +And can thy righteous soul endure +That Ráma glorious, pious, pure, +Should to the distant wilds be sent +For fourteen years of banishment? +Yea, Ráma Bharat's self exceeds +In love to thee and sonlike deeds, +And, for deserving love of thee, +As Bharat, even so is he. +Who better than that chieftain may +Obedience, love, and honour pay, +Thy dignity with care protect, +Thy slightest word and wish respect? +Of all his countless followers none +Can breathe a word against my son; +Of many thousands not a dame +Can hint reproach or whisper blame. +All creatures feel the sweet control +Of Ráma's pure and gentle soul. +The pride of Manu's race he binds +To him the people's grateful minds. +He wins the subjects with his truth, +The poor with gifts and gentle ruth, +His teachers with his docile will, +The foemen with his archer skill. +Truth, purity, religious zeal, +The hand to give, the heart to feel, +The love that ne'er betrays a friend, +The rectitude that naught can bend, +Knowledge, and meek obedience grace +My Ráma pride of Raghu's race. +Canst thou thine impious plot design +'Gainst him in whom these virtues shine, +Whose glory with the sages vies, +Peer of the Gods who rule the skies! +From him no harsh or bitter word +To pain one creature have I heard, +And how can I my son address, +For thee, with words of bitterness? +Have mercy, Queen: some pity show +To see my tears of anguish flow, +And listen to my mournful cry, +A poor old man who soon must die. +Whate'er this sea-girt land can boast +Of rich and rare from coast to coast, +To thee, my Queen, I give it all: +But O, thy deadly words recall: +O see, my suppliant hands entreat, +Again my lips are on thy feet: +Save Ráma, save my darling child, +Nor kill me with this sin defiled." +He grovelled on the ground, and lay +To burning grief a senseless prey, +And ever and anon, assailed +By floods of woe he wept and wailed, +Striving with eager speed to gain +The margent of his sea of pain. + + With fiercer words she fiercer yet +The hapless father's pleading met: +"O Monarch, if thy soul repent +The promise and thy free consent, +How wilt thou in the world maintain +Thy fame for truth unsmirched with stain? +When gathered kings with thee converse, +And bid thee all the tale rehearse, +What wilt thou say, O truthful King, +In answer to their questioning? +"She to whose love my life I owe, +Who saved me smitten by the foe, +Kaikeyí, for her tender care, +Was cheated of the oath I sware." +Thus wilt thou answer, and forsworn +Wilt draw on thee the princes' scorn. +Learn from that tale, the Hawk and Dove,(275) +How strong for truth was Saivya's love. +Pledged by his word the monarch gave +His flesh the suppliant bird to save. +So King Alarka gave his eyes, +And gained a mansion in the skies. +The Sea himself his promise keeps, +And ne'er beyond his limit sweeps. +My deeds of old again recall, +Nor let thy bond dishonoured fall. +The rights of truth thou wouldst forget, +Thy Ráma on the throne to set, +And let thy days in pleasure glide, +Fond King, Kausalyá by thy side. +Now call it by what name thou wilt, +Justice, injustice, virtue, guilt, +Thy word and oath remain the same, +And thou must yield what thus I claim. +If Ráma be anointed, I +This very day will surely die, +Before thy face will poison drink, +And lifeless at thy feet will sink. +Yea, better far to die than stay +Alive to see one single day +The crowds before Kausalyá stand +And hail her queen with reverent hand. +Now by my son, myself, I swear, +No gift, no promise whatsoe'er +My steadfast soul shall now content, +But only Ráma's banishment." + + So far she spake by rage impelled, +And then the queen deep silence held. +He heard her speech full fraught with ill, +But spoke no word bewildered still, +Gazed on his love once held so dear +Who spoke unlovely rede to hear; +Then as he slowly pondered o'er +The queen's resolve and oath she swore. +Once sighing forth, Ah Ráma! he +Fell prone as falls a smitten tree. +His senses lost like one insane, +Faint as a sick man weak with pain, +Or like a wounded snake dismayed, +So lay the king whom earth obeyed. +Long burning sighs he slowly heaved, +As, conquered by his woe, he grieved, +And thus with tears and sobs between +His sad faint words addressed the queen: + + "By whom, Kaikeyí, wast thou taught +This flattering hope with ruin fraught? +Have goblins seized thy soul, O dame, +Who thus canst speak and feel no shame? +Thy mind with sin is sicklied o'er, +From thy first youth ne'er seen before. +A good and loving wife wast thou, +But all, alas! is altered now. +What terror can have seized thy breast +To make thee frame this dire request, +That Bharat o'er the land may reign, +And Ráma in the woods remain? +Turn from thine evil ways, O turn, +And thy perfidious counsel spurn, +If thou would fain a favour do +To people, lord, and Bharat too. +O wicked traitress, fierce and vile, +Who lovest deeds of sin and guile, +What crime or grievance dost thou see, +What fault in Ráma or in me? +Thy son will ne'er the throne accept +If Ráma from his rights be kept, +For Bharat's heart more firmly yet +Than Ráma's is on justice set. +How shall I say, Go forth, and brook +Upon my Ráma's face to look, +See his pale cheek and ashy lips +Dimmed like the moon in sad eclipse? +How see the plan so well prepared +When prudent friends my counsels shared, +All ruined, like a host laid low +Beneath some foeman's murderous blow. +What will these gathered princes say, +From regions near and far away? +"O'erlong endures the monarch's reign, +or now he is a child again." +When many a good and holy sage +In Scripture versed, revered for age, +Shall ask for Ráma, what shall I +Unhappy, what shall I reply? +"By Queen Kaikeyí long distressed +I drove him forth and dispossessed." +Although herein the truth I speak, +They all will hold me false and weak. +What will Kausalyá say when she +Demands her son exiled by me? +Alas! what answer shall I frame, +Or how console the injured dame? +She like a slave on me attends, +And with a sister's care she blends +A mother's love, a wife's, a friend's. +In spite of all her tender care, +Her noble son, her face most fair, +Another queen I could prefer +And for thy sake neglected her, +But now, O Queen, my heart is grieved +For love and care by thee received, +E'en as the sickening wretch repents +His dainty meal and condiments. +And how will Queen Sumitrá trust +The husband whom she finds unjust, +Seeing my Ráma driven hence +Dishonoured, and for no offence? +Ah! the Videhan bride will hear +A double woe, a double fear, +Two whelming sorrows at one breath, +Her lord's disgrace, his father's death. +Mine aged bosom she will wring +And kill me with her sorrowing, +Sad as a fair nymph left to weep +Deserted on Himálaya's steep. +For short will be my days, I ween, +When I with mournful eyes have seen +My Ráma wandering forth alone +And heard dear Sítá sob and moan. +Ah me! my fond belief I rue. +Vile traitress, loved as good and true, +As one who in his thirst has quaffed, +Deceived by looks, a deadly draught. +Ah! thou hast slain me, murderess, while +Soothing my soul with words of guile, +As the wild hunter kills the deer +Lured from the brake his song to hear. +Soon every honest tongue will fling +Reproach on the dishonest king; +The people's scorn in every street +The seller of his child will meet, +And such dishonour will be mine +As whelms a Bráhman drunk with wine. +Ah me, for my unhappy fate, +Compelled thy words to tolerate! +Such woe is sent to scourge a crime +Committed in some distant time. +For many a day with sinful care +I cherished thee, thou sin and snare, +Kept thee, unwitting, like a cord +Destined to bind its hapless lord. +Mine hours of ease I spent with thee, +Nor deemed my love my death would be, +While like a heedless child I played, +On a black snake my hand I laid. +A cry from every mouth will burst +And all the world will hold me curst, +Because I saw my high-souled son +Unkinged, unfathered, and undone; +"The king by power of love beguiled +Is weaker than a foolish child, +His own beloved son to make +An exile for a woman's sake. +By chaste and holy vows restrained, +By reverend teachers duly trained. +When he his virtue's fruit should taste +He falls by sin and woe disgraced." +Two words will all his answer be +When I pronounce the stern decree, +"Hence, Ráma, to the woods away," +All he will say is, I obey. +O, if he would my will withstand +When banished from his home and land, +This were a comfort in my woe; +But he will ne'er do this, I know. +My Ráma to the forest fled, +And curses thick upon my head, +Grim Death will bear me hence away, +His world-abominated prey. +When I am gone and Ráma too. +How wilt thou those I love pursue? +What vengeful sin will be designed +Against the queens I leave behind? +When thou hast slain her son and me +Kausalyá soon will follow: she +Will sink beneath her sorrows' weight, +And die like me disconsolate. +Exist, Kaikeyí, in thy pride, +And let thy heart be gratified, +When thou my queens and me hast hurled, +And children, to the under world. +Soon wilt thou rule as empress o'er +My noble house unvext before. +But then to wild confusion left, +Of Ráma and of me bereft. +If Bharat to thy plan consent +And long for Ráma's banishment, +Ne'er let his hands presume to pay +The funeral honours to my clay. +Vile foe, thou cause of all mine ill, +Obtain at last thy cursed will. +A widow soon shalt thou enjoy +The sweets of empire with thy boy. +O Princess, sure some evil fate +First brought thee here to devastate, +In whom the night of ruin lies +Veiled in a consort's fair disguise. +The scorn of all and deepest shame +Will long pursue my hated name, +And dire disgrace on me will press, +Misled by thee to wickedness. +How shall my Ráma, whom, before, +His elephant or chariot bore, +Now with his feet, a wanderer, tread +The forest wilds around him spread? +How shall my son, to please whose taste, +The deftest cooks, with earrings graced, +With rivalry and jealous care +The dainty meal and cates prepare-- +How shall he now his life sustain +With acid fruit and woodland grain? +He spends his time unvext by cares, +And robes of precious texture wears: +How shall he, with one garment round +His limbs recline upon the ground? +Whose was this plan, this cruel thought +Unheard till now, with ruin fraught, +To make thy son Ayodhyá's king, +And send my Ráma wandering? +Shame, shame on women! Vile, untrue, +Their selfish ends they still pursue. +Not all of womankind I mean. +But more than all this wicked queen. + O worthless, cruel, selfish dame, + I brought thee home, my plague and woe. + What fault in me hast thou to blame, + Or in my son who loves thee so? + Fond wives may from their husbands flee, + And fathers may their sons desert, + But all the world would rave to see + My Ráma touched with deadly hurt. + I joy his very step to hear, + As though his godlike form I viewed; + And when I see my Ráma near + I feel my youth again renewed. + There might be life without the sun, + Yea, e'en if Indra sent no rain, + But, were my Ráma banished, none + Would, so I think, alive remain. + A foe that longs my life to take, + I brought thee here my death to be, + Caressed thee long, a venomed snake, + And through my folly die. Ah me! + Ráma and me and Lakshman slay, + And then with Bharat rule the state; + So bring the kingdom to decay, + And fawn on those thy lord who hate, + Plotter of woe, for evil bred, + For such a speech why do not all + Thy teeth from out thy wicked head + Split in a thousand pieces fall? + My Ráma's words are ever kind, + He knows not how to speak in ire: + Then how canst thou presume to find + A fault in him whom all admire? + Yield to despair, go mad, or die, + Or sink within the rifted earth; + Thy fell request will I deny, + Thou shamer of thy royal birth. + Thy longer life I scarce can bear, + Thou ruin of my home and race, + Who wouldst my heart and heartstrings tear, + Keen as a razor, false and base. + My life is gone, why speak of joy? + For what, without my son, were sweet? + Spare, lady, him thou canst destroy; + I pray thee as I touch thy feet." + He fell and wept with wild complaint, + Heart-struck by her presumptuous speech, + But could not touch, so weak and faint, + The cruel feet he strove to reach. + + + + +Canto XIII. Dasaratha's Distress. + + +Unworthy of his mournful fate, +The mighty king, unfortunate, +Lay prostrate in unseemly guise, +As, banished from the blissful skies, +Yayáti, in his evil day. +His merit all exhausted, lay.(276) +The queen, triumphant in the power +Won by her beauty's fatal dower, +Still terrible and unsubdued, +Her dire demand again renewed: +"Great Monarch, 'twas thy boast till now +To love the truth and keep the vow; +Then wherefore would thy lips refuse +The promised boon 'tis mine to choose?" + + King Dasaratha, thus addressed, +With anger raging in his breast, +Sank for a while beneath the pain, +Then to Kaikeyí spoke again: +"Childless so long, at length I won, +With mighty toil, from Heaven a son, +Ráma, the mighty-armed; and how +Shall I desert my darling now? +A scholar wise, a hero bold, +Of patient mood, with wrath controlled, +How can I bid my Ráma fly, +My darling of the lotus eye? +In heaven itself I scarce could bear, +When asking of my Ráma there, +To hear the Gods his griefs declare, +And O, that death would take me hence +Before I wrong his innocence!" + + As thus the monarch wept and wailed, +And maddening grief his heart assailed, +The sun had sought his resting-place, +And night was closing round apace. +But yet the moon-crowned night could bring +No comfort to the wretched king. +As still he mourned with burning sighs +And fixed his gaze upon the skies: +"O Night whom starry fires adorn, +I long not for the coming morn. +Be kind and show some mercy: see, +My suppliant hands are raised to thee. +Nay, rather fly with swifter pace; +No longer would I see the face +Of Queen Kaikeyí, cruel, dread, +Who brings this woe upon mine head." +Again with suppliant hands he tried +To move the queen, and wept and sighed: +"To me, unhappy me, inclined +To good, sweet dame, thou shouldst be kind; +Whose life is well-nigh fled, who cling +To thee for succour, me thy king. +This, only this, is all my claim: +Have mercy, O my lovely dame. +None else have I to take my part, +Have mercy: thou art good at heart. +Hear, lady of the soft black eye, +And win a name that ne'er shall die: +Let Ráma rule this glorious land, +The gift of thine imperial hand. +O lady of the dainty waist, +With eyes and lips of beauty graced, +Please Ráma, me, each saintly priest, +Bharat, and all from chief to least." + She heard his wild and mournful cry, + She saw the tears his speech that broke, +Saw her good husband's reddened eye, + But, cruel still, no word she spoke. +His eyes upon her face he bent, + And sought for mercy, but in vain: +She claimed his darling's banishment, + He swooned upon the ground again. + + + + +Canto XIV. Ráma Summoned. + + +The wicked queen her speech renewed, +When rolling on the earth she viewed +Ikshváku's son, Ayodhyá's king, +For his dear Ráma sorrowing: +"Why, by a simple promise bound, +Liest thou prostrate on the ground, +As though a grievous sin dismayed +Thy spirit! Why so sore afraid? +Keep still thy word. The righteous deem +That truth, mid duties, is supreme: +And now in truth and honour's name +I bid thee own the binding claim. +Saivya, a king whom earth obeyed, +Once to a hawk a promise made, +Gave to the bird his flesh and bone, +And by his truth made heaven his own.(277) +Alarka, when a Bráhman famed +For Scripture lore his promise claimed, +Tore from his head his bleeding eyes +And unreluctant gave the prize. +His narrow bounds prescribed restrain +The Rivers' Lord, the mighty main, +Who, though his waters boil and rave, +Keeps faithful to the word he gave. +Truth all religion comprehends, +Through all the world its might extends: +In truth alone is justice placed, +On truth the words of God are based: +A life in truth unchanging past +Will bring the highest bliss at last. +If thou the right would still pursue, +Be constant to thy word and true: +Let me thy promise fruitful see, +For boons, O King, proceed from thee. +Now to preserve thy righteous fame, +And yielding to my earnest claim-- +Thrice I repeat it--send thy child, +Thy Ráma, to the forest wild. +But if the boon thou still deny, +Before thy face, forlorn, I die." + + Thus was the helpless monarch stung +By Queen Kaikeyí's fearless tongue, +As Bali strove in vain to loose +His limbs from Indra's fatal noose. +Dismayed in soul and pale with fear, +The monarch, like a trembling steer +Between the chariot's wheel and yoke, +Again to Queen Kaikeyí spoke, +With sad eyes fixt in vacant stare, +Gathering courage from despair: +"That hand I took, thou sinful dame, +With texts, before the sacred flame, +Thee and thy son, I scorn and hate, +And all at once repudiate. +The night is fled: the dawn is near: +Soon will the holy priests be here +To bid me for the rite prepare +That with my son the throne will share, +The preparation made to grace +My Ráma in his royal place-- +With this, e'en this, my darling for +My death the funeral flood shall pour. +Thou and thy son at least forbear +In offerings to my shade to share, +For by the plot thy guile has laid +His consecration will be stayed. +This very day how shall I brook +To meet each subject's altered look? +To mark each gloomy joyless brow +That was so bright and glad but now?" + + While thus the high-souled monarch spoke +To the stern queen, the Morning broke, +And holy night had slowly fled, +With moon and stars engarlanded. +Yet once again the cruel queen +Spoke words in answer fierce and keen, +Still on her evil purpose bent, +Wild with her rage and eloquent: +"What speech is this? Such words as these +Seem sprung from poison-sown disease. +Quick to thy noble Ráma send +And bid him on his sire attend. +When to my son the rule is given; +When Ráma to the woods is driven; +When not a rival copes with me, +From chains of duty thou art free." + + Thus goaded, like a generous steed +Urged by sharp spurs to double speed, +"My senses are astray," he cried, +"And duty's bonds my hands have tied. +I long to see mine eldest son, +My virtuous, my beloved one." + + And now the night had past away; +Out shone the Maker of the Day, +Bringing the planetary hour +And moment of auspicious power. +Vasishtha, virtuous, far renowned, +Whose young disciples girt him round, +With sacred things without delay +Through the fair city took his way. +He traversed, where the people thronged, +And all for Ráma's coming longed, +The town as fair in festive show +As his who lays proud cities low.(278) +He reached the palace where he heard +The mingled notes of many a bird, +Where crowded thick high-honoured bands +Of guards with truncheons in their hands. +Begirt by many a sage, elate, +Vasishtha reached the royal gate, +And standing by the door he found +Sumantra, for his form renowned, +The king's illustrious charioteer +And noble counsellor and peer. +To him well skilled in every part +Of his hereditary art +Vasishtha said: "O charioteer, +Inform the king that I am here, +Here ready by my side behold +These sacred vessels made of gold, +Which water for the rite contain +From Gangá and each distant main. +Here for installing I have brought +The seat prescribed of fig-wood wrought, +All kinds of seed and precious scent +And many a gem and ornament; +Grain, sacred grass, the garden's spoil, +Honey and curds and milk and oil; +Eight radiant maids, the best of all +War elephants that feed in stall; +A four-horse car, a bow and sword. +A litter, men to bear their lord; +A white umbrella bright and fair +That with the moon may well compare; +Two chouries of the whitest hair; +A golden beaker rich and rare; +A bull high-humped and fair to view, +Girt with gold bands and white of hue; +A four-toothed steed with flowing mane, +A throne which lions carved sustain; +A tiger's skin, the sacred fire, +Fresh kindled, which the rites require; +The best musicians skilled to play, +And dancing-girls in raiment gay; +Kine, Bráhmans, teachers fill the court, +And bird and beast of purest sort. +From town and village, far and near, +The noblest men are gathered here; +Here merchants with their followers crowd, +And men in joyful converse loud, +And kings from many a distant land +To view the consecration stand. +The dawn is come, the lucky day; +Go bid the monarch haste away, +That now Prince Ráma may obtain +The empire, and begin his reign." + + Soon as he heard the high behest +The driver of the chariot pressed +Within the chambers of the king, +His lord with praises honouring. +And none of all the warders checked +His entrance for their great respect +Of him well known, in place so high, +Still fain their king to gratify. +He stood beside the royal chief, +Unwitting of his deadly grief, +And with sweet words began to sing +The praises of his lord and king: +"As, when the sun begins to rise, +The sparkling sea delights our eyes, +Wake, calm with gentle soul, and thus +Give rapture, mighty King, to us. +As Mátali(279) this selfsame hour +Sang lauds of old to Indra's power, +When he the Titan hosts o'erthrew, +So hymn I thee with praises due. +The Vedas, with their kindred lore, +Brahmá their soul-born Lord adore, +With all the doctrines of the wise, +And bid him, as I bid thee, rise. +As, with the moon, the Lord of Day +Wakes with the splendour of his ray +Prolific Earth, who neath him lies, +So, mighty King, I bid thee rise. +With blissful words, O Lord of men, +Rise, radiant in thy form, as when +The sun ascending darts his light +From Meru's everlasting height. +May Siva, Agni, Sun, and Moon +Bestow on thee each choicest boon, +Kuvera, Varuna, Indra bless +Kakutstha's son with all success. +Awake, the holy night is fled, +The happy light abroad is spread; +Awake, O best of kings, and share +The glorious task that claims thy care. +The holy sage Vasishtha waits, +With all his Bráhmans, at the gate. +Give thy decree, without delay, +To consecrate thy son today. +As armies, by no captain led, +As flocks that feed unshepherded, +Such is the fortune of a state +Without a king and desolate." + + Such were the words the bard addressed, +With weight of sage advice impressed; +And, as he heard, the hapless king +Felt deeper yet his sorrow's sting. +At length, all joy and comfort fled, +He raised his eyes with weeping red, +And, mournful for his Ráma's sake, +The good and glorious monarch spake: +"Why seek with idle praise to greet +The wretch for whom no praise is meet? +Thy words mine aching bosom tear, +And plunge me deeper in despair." + + Sumantra heard the sad reply, +And saw his master's tearful eye. +With reverent palm to palm applied +He drew a little space aside. +Then, as the king, with misery weak, +With vain endeavour strove to speak, +Kaikeyí, skilled in plot and plan, +To sage Sumantra thus began: +"The king, absorbed in joyful thought +For his dear son, no rest has sought: +Sleepless to him the night has past, +And now o'erwatched he sinks at last. +Then go, Sumantra, and with speed +The glorious Ráma hither lead: +Go, as I pray, nor longer wait; +No time is this to hesitate." + "How can I go, O Lady fair, +Unless my lord his will declare?" + "Fain would I see him," cried the king, +"Quick, quick, my beauteous Ráma bring." + Then rose the happy thought to cheer +The bosom of the charioteer, +"The king, I ween, of pious mind, +The consecration has designed." +Sumantra for his wisdom famed, +Delighted with the thought he framed, +From the calm chamber, like a bay +Of crowded ocean, took his way. + He turned his face to neither side, + But forth he hurried straight; +Only a little while he eyed +The guards who kept the gate. +He saw in front a gathered crowd + Of men of every class, +Who, parting as he came, allowed + The charioteer to pass. + + + + +Canto XV. The Preparations. + + + There slept the Bráhmans, deeply read +In Scripture, till the night had fled; +Then, with the royal chaplains, they +Took each his place in long array. +There gathered fast the chiefs of trade, +Nor peer nor captain long delayed, +Assembling all in order due +The consecrating rite to view. + + The morning dawned with cloudless ray +On Pushya's high auspicious day, +And Cancer with benignant power +Looked down on Ráma's natal hour. +The twice-born chiefs, with zealous heed, +Made ready what the rite would need. +The well-wrought throne of holy wood +And golden urns in order stood. +There was the royal car whereon +A tiger's skin resplendent shone; +There water, brought for sprinkling thence +Where, in their sacred confluence, +Blend Jumná's waves with Gangá's tide, +From many a holy flood beside, +From brook and fountain far and near, +From pool and river, sea and mere. +And there were honey, curd, and oil, +Parched rice and grass, the garden's spoil, +Fresh milk, eight girls in bright attire, +An elephant with eyes of fire; +And urns of gold and silver made, +With milky branches overlaid, +All brimming from each sacred flood, +And decked with many a lotus bud. +And dancing-women fair and free, +Gay with their gems, were there to see, +Who stood in bright apparel by +With lovely brow and witching eye. +White flashed the jewelled chouri there, +And shone like moonbeams through the air; +The white umbrella overhead +A pale and moonlike lustre shed, +Wont in pure splendour to precede, +And in such rites the pomp to lead. +There stood the charger by the side +Of the great bull of snow-white hide; +There was all music soft and loud, +And bards and minstrels swelled the crowd. +For now the monarch bade combine +Each custom of his ancient line +With every rite Ayodhyá's state +Observed, her kings to consecrate. + + Then, summoned by the king's behest, +The multitudes together pressed, +And, missing still the royal sire, +Began, impatient, to inquire: +"Who to our lord will tidings bear +That all his people throng the square? +Where is the king? the sun is bright, +And all is ready for the rite." + + As thus they spoke, Sumantra, tried +In counsel, to the chiefs replied, +Gathered from lands on every side: +"To Ráma's house I swiftly drave, +For so the king his mandate gave. +Our aged lord and Ráma too +In honour high hold all of you: +I in your words (be long your days!) +Will ask him why he thus delays." + + Thus spoke the peer in Scripture read, +And to the ladies' bower he sped. +Quick through the gates Sumantra hied, +Which access ne'er to him denied. +Behind the curtained screen he drew, +Which veiled the chamber from the view. +In benediction loud he raised +His voice, and thus the monarch praised: +"Sun, Moon, Kuvera, Siva bless +Kakutstha's son with high success! +The Lords of air, flood, fire decree +The victory, my King, to thee! +The holy night has past away, +Auspicious shines the morning's ray. +Rise, Lord of men, thy part to take +In the great rite. Awake! awake! +Bráhmans and captains, chiefs of trade, +All wait in festive garb arrayed; +For thee they look with eager eyes: +O Raghu's son, awake! arise." + + To him in holy Scripture read, +Who hailed him thus, the monarch said, +Upraising from his sleep his head: +"Go, Ráma, hither lead as thou +Wast ordered by the queen but now. +Come, tell me why my mandate laid +Upon thee thus is disobeyed. +Away! and Ráma hither bring; +I sleep not: make no tarrying." + + Thus gave the king command anew: +Sumantra from his lord withdrew; +With head in lowly reverence bent, +And filled with thoughts of joy, he went. +The royal street he traversed, where +Waved flag and pennon to the air, +And, as with joy the car he drove, +He let his eyes delighted rove. +On every side, where'er he came, +He heard glad words, their theme the same, +As in their joy the gathered folk +Of Ráma and the throning spoke. +Then saw he Ráma's palace bright +And vast as Mount Kailása's height, +That glorious in its beauty showed +As Indra's own supreme abode: +With folding doors both high and wide; +With hundred porches beautified: +Where golden statues towering rose +O'er gemmed and coralled porticoes. +Bright like a cave in Meru's side, +Or clouds through Autumn's sky that ride: +Festooned with length of bloomy twine, +Flashing with pearls and jewels' shine, +While sandal-wood and aloe lent +The mingled riches of their scent; +With all the odorous sweets that fill +The breezy heights of Dardar's hill. +There by the gate the Sáras screamed, +And shrill-toned peacocks' plumage gleamed. +Its floors with deftest art inlaid, +Its sculptured wolves in gold arrayed, +With its bright sheen the palace took +The mind of man and chained the look, +For like the sun and moon it glowed, +And mocked Kuvera's loved abode. +Circling the walls a crowd he viewed +Who stood in reverent attitude, +With throngs of countrymen who sought +Acceptance of the gifts they brought. +The elephant was stationed there, +Appointed Ráma's self to bear; +Adorned with pearls, his brow and cheek +Were sandal-dyed in many a streak, +While he, in stature, bulk, and pride, +With Indra's own Airávat(280) vied. +Sumantra, borne by coursers fleet, +Flashing a radiance o'er the street, + To Ráma's palace flew, +And all who lined the royal road, +Or thronged the prince's rich abode, + Rejoiced as near he drew. +And with delight his bosom swelled +As onward still his course he held +Through many a sumptuous court +Like Indra's palace nobly made, +Where peacocks revelled in the shade, + And beasts of silvan sort. +Through many a hall and chamber wide, +That with Kailása's splendour vied. + Or mansions of the Blest, +While Ráma's friends, beloved and tried, +Before his coming stepped aside, + Still on Sumantra pressed. +He reached the chamber door, where stood +Around his followers young and good, +Bard, minstrel, charioteer, +Well skilled the tuneful chords to sweep, +With soothing strain to lull to sleep, + Or laud their master dear. +Then, like a dolphin darting through +Unfathomed depths of ocean's blue + With store of jewels decked, +Through crowded halls that rock-like rose, +Or as proud hills where clouds repose, + Sumantra sped unchecked-- +Halls like the glittering domes on high +Reared for the dwellers of the sky + By heavenly architect. + + + + +Canto XVI. Ráma Summoned. + + +So through the crowded inner door +Sumantra, skilled in ancient lore, +On to the private chambers pressed +Which stood apart from all the rest. +There youthful warriors, true and bold, +Whose ears were ringed with polished gold, +All armed with trusty bows and darts, +Watched with devoted eyes and hearts. +And hoary men, a faithful train, +Whose aged hands held staves of cane, +The ladies' guard, apparelled fair +In red attire, were stationed there. +Soon as they saw Sumantra nigh, +Each longed his lord to gratify, +And from his seat beside the door +Up sprang each ancient servitor. +Then to the warders quickly cried +The skilled Sumantra, void of pride: +"Tell Ráma that the charioteer +Sumantra waits for audience here." +The ancient men with one accord +Seeking the pleasure of their lord, +Passing with speed the chamber door +To Ráma's ear the message bore. +Forthwith the prince with duteous heed +Called in the messenger with speed, +For 'twas his sire's command, he knew, +That sent him for the interview. +Like Lord Kuvera, well arrayed, + He pressed a couch of gold, +Wherefrom a covering of brocade + Hung down in many a fold. +Oil and the sandal's fragrant dust + Had tinged his body o'er +Dark as the stream the spearman's thrust + Drains from the wounded boar. +Him Sítá watched with tender care, + A chouri in her hand, +As Chitrá,(281) ever fond in fair, + Beside the Moon will stand. +Him glorious with unborrowed light, +A liberal lord, of sunlike might, +Sumantra hailed in words like these, +Well skilled in gentle courtesies, +As, with joined hands in reverence raised, +Upon the beauteous prince he gazed: +"Happy Kausalyá! Blest is she, +The Mother of a son like thee. +Now rise, O Ráma, speed away. +Go to thy sire without delay: +For he and Queen Kaikeyí seek +An interview with thee to speak." + + The lion-lord of men, the best +Of splendid heroes, thus addressed, +To Sítá spake with joyful cheer: +"The king and queen, my lady dear, +Touching the throning, for my sake +Some salutary counsel take. +The lady of the full black eye +Would fain her husband gratify, +And, all his purpose understood, +Counsels the monarch to my good. +A happy fate is mine, I ween, +When he, consulting with his queen, +Sumantra on this charge, intent +Upon my gain and good, has sent. +An envoy of so noble sort +Well suits the splendour of the court. +The consecration rite this day +Will join me in imperial sway. +To meet the lord of earth, for so +His order bids me, I will go. +Thou, lady, here in comfort stay, +And with thy maidens rest or play." + + Thus Ráma spake. For meet reply +The lady of the large black eye +Attended to the door her lord, +And blessings on his head implored: +"The majesty and royal state +Which holy Bráhmans venerate, +The consecration and the rite +Which sanctifies the ruler's might, +And all imperial powers should be +Thine by thy father's high decree, +As He, the worlds who formed and planned, +The kingship gave to Indra's hand. +Then shall mine eyes my king adore +When lustral rites and fast are o'er, +And black deer's skin and roebuck's horn +Thy lordly limbs and hand adorn. +May He whose hands the thunder wield +Be in the east thy guard and shield; +May Yáma's care the south befriend, +And Varun's arm the west defend; +And let Kuvera, Lord of Gold, +The north with firm protection hold." + + Then Ráma spoke a kind farewell, +And hailed the blessings as they fell +From Sítá's gentle lips; and then, +As a young lion from his den +Descends the mountain's stony side, +So from the hall the hero hied. +First Lakshman at the door he viewed +Who stood in reverent attitude, +Then to the central court he pressed +Where watched the friends who loved him best. +To all his dear companions there +He gave kind looks and greeting fair. +On to the lofty car that glowed +Like fire the royal tiger strode. +Bright as himself its silver shone: +A tiger's skin was laid thereon. +With cloudlike thunder, as it rolled, +It flashed with gems and burnished gold, +And, like the sun's meridian blaze, +Blinded the eye that none could gaze. +Like youthful elephants, tall and strong, +Fleet coursers whirled the car along: +In such a car the Thousand-eyed +Borne by swift horses loves to ride. +So like Parjanya,(282) when he flies +Thundering through the autumn skies, +The hero from the palace sped, +As leaves the moon some cloud o'erhead. +Still close to Ráma Lakshman kept, +Behind him to the car he leapt, +And, watching with fraternal care, +Waved the long chouri's silver hair, +As from the palace gate he came +Up rose the tumult of acclaim. +While loud huzza and jubilant shout +Pealed from the gathered myriads out. +Then elephants, like mountains vast, +And steeds who all their kind surpassed, +Followed their lord by hundreds, nay +By thousands, led in long array. +First marched a band of warriors trained, +With sandal dust and aloe stained; +Well armed was each with sword and bow, +And every breast with hope aglow, +And ever, as they onward went, + Shouts from the warrior train, +And every sweet-toned instrument + Prolonged the minstrel strain. +On passed the tamer of his foes, +While well clad dames, in crowded rows, +Each chamber lattice thronged to view, +And chaplets on the hero threw. +Then all, of peerless face and limb, +Sang Ráma's praise for love of him, +And blent their voices, soft and sweet, +From palace high and crowded street: +"Now, sure, Kausalyá's heart must swell +To see the son she loves so well, +Thee Ráma, thee, her joy and pride, +Triumphant o'er the realm preside." +Then--for they knew his bride most fair +Of all who part the soft dark hair, +His love, his life, possessed the whole +Of her young hero's heart and soul:-- +"Be sure the lady's fate repays +Some mighty vow of ancient days,(283) +For blest with Ráma's love is she +As, with the Moon's, sweet Rohiní."(284) + + Such were the witching words that came +From lips of many a peerless dame +Crowding the palace roofs to greet +The hero as he gained the street. + + + + +Canto XVII. Ráma's Approach. + + +As Ráma, rendering blithe and gay +His loving friends, pursued his way, +He saw on either hand a press +Of mingled people numberless. +The royal street he traversed, where +Incense of aloe filled the air, +Where rose high palaces, that vied +With paly clouds, on either side; +With flowers of myriad colours graced. +And food for every varied taste, +Bright as the glowing path o'erhead +Which feet of Gods celestial tread, +Loud benedictions, sweet to hear, +From countless voices soothed his ear. +While he to each gave due salute +His place and dignity to suit: +"Be thou," the joyful people cried, +"Be thou our guardian, lord and guide. +Throned and anointed king to-day, +Thy feet set forth upon the way +Wherein, each honoured as a God, +Thy fathers and forefathers trod. +Thy sire and his have graced the throne, +And loving care to us have shown: +Thus blest shall we and ours remain, +Yea still more blest in Ráma's reign. +No more of dainty fare we need, +And but one cherished object heed, +That we may see our prince today +Invested with imperial sway." + + Such were the words and pleasant speech +That Ráma heard, unmoved, from each +Of the dear friends around him spread, +As onward through the street he sped, +For none could turn his eye or thought +From the dear form his glances sought, +With fruitless ardour forward cast +Even when Raghu's son had past. +And he who saw not Ráma nigh, +Nor caught a look from Ráma's eye, +A mark for scorn and general blame, +Reproached himself in bitter shame. +For to each class his equal mind +With sympathy and love inclined +Most fully of the princely four, +So greatest love to him they bore. + + His circling course the hero bent +Round shrine and altar, reverent, +Round homes of Gods, where cross-roads met, +Where many a sacred tree was set. +Near to his father's house he drew +Like Indra's beautiful to view, +And with the light his glory gave +Within the royal palace drave. +Through three broad courts, where bowmen kept +Their watch and ward, his coursers swept, +Then through the two remaining went +On foot the prince preëminent. +Through all the courts the hero passed, +And gained the ladies' bower at last; +Then through the door alone withdrew, +And left without his retinue. +When thus the monarch's noble boy + Had gone his sire to meet, +The multitude, elate with joy, + Stood watching in the street, +And his return with eager eyes + Expected at the gates, +As for his darling moon to rise + The King of Rivers(285) waits. + + + + +Canto XVIII. The Sentence. + + +With hopeless eye and pallid mien +There sat the monarch with the queen. +His father's feet with reverence due +He clasped, and touched Kaikeyí's too. +The king, with eyes still brimming o'er, +Cried Ráma! and could do no more. +His voice was choked, his eye was dim, +He could not speak or look on him. +Then sudden fear made Ráma shake +As though his foot had roused a snake, +Soon as his eyes had seen the change +So mournful, terrible, and strange. +For there his reason well-nigh fled, +Sighing, with soul disquieted, + To torturing pangs a prey, +Dismayed, despairing, and distraught, +In a fierce whirl of wildering thought + The hapless monarch lay, +Like Ocean wave-engarlanded +Storm-driven from his tranquil bed, + The Sun-God in eclipse, +Or like a holy seer, heart-stirred +With anguish, when a lying word + Has passed his heedless lips. +The sight of his dear father, pained +With woe and misery unexplained + Filled Ráma with unrest, +As Ocean's pulses rise and swell +When the great moon he loves so well + Shines full upon his breast. +So grieving for his father's sake, +To his own heart the hero spake: +"Why will the king my sire to-day +No kindly word of greeting say? +At other times, though wroth he be, +His eyes grow calm that look on me. +Then why does anguish wring his brow +To see his well-beloved now?" +Sick and perplexed, distraught with woe, +To Queen Kaikeyí bowing low, +While pallor o'er his bright cheek spread, +With humble reverence he said: +"What have I done, unknown, amiss +To make my father wroth like this? +Declare it, O dear Queen, and win +His pardon for my heedless sin. +Why is the sire I ever find +Filled with all love to-day unkind? +With eyes cast down and pallid cheek +This day alone he will not speak. +Or lies he prostrate neath the blow +Of fierce disease or sudden woe? +For all our bliss is dashed with pain, +And joy unmixt is hard to gain. +Does stroke of evil fortune smite +Dear Bharat, charming to the sight, +Or on the brave Satrughna fall, +Or consorts, for he loves them all? +Against his words when I rebel, +Or fail to please the monarch well, +When deeds of mine his soul offend, +That hour I pray my life may end. +How should a man to him who gave +His being and his life behave? +The sire to whom he owes his birth +Should be his deity on earth. +Hast thou, by pride and folly moved, +With bitter taunt the king reproved? +Has scorn of thine or cruel jest +To passion stirred his gentle breast? +Speak truly, Queen, that I may know +What cause has changed the monarch so." + + Thus by the high-souled prince addressed, +Of Raghu's sons the chief and best, +She cast all ruth and shame aside, +And bold with greedy words replied: +"Not wrath, O Ráma, stirs the king, +Nor misery stabs with sudden sting; +One thought that fills his soul has he, +But dares not speak for fear of thee. +Thou art so dear, his lips refrain +From words that might his darling pain. +But thou, as duty bids, must still +The promise of thy sire fulfil. +He who to me in days gone by +Vouchsafed a boon with honours high, +Dares now, a king, his word regret, +And caitiff-like disowns the debt. +The lord of men his promise gave +To grant the boon that I might crave, +And now a bridge would idly throw +When the dried stream has ceased to flow. +His faith the monarch must not break +In wrath, or e'en for thy dear sake. +From faith, as well the righteous know, +Our virtue and our merits flow. +Now, be they good or be they ill, +Do thou thy father's words fulfil: +Swear that his promise shall not fail, +And I will tell thee all the tale. +Yes, Ráma, when I hear that thou +Hast bound thee by thy father's vow, +Then, not till then, my lips shall speak, +Nor will he tell what boon I seek." + + He heard, and with a troubled breast +This answer to the queen addressed: +"Ah me, dear lady, canst thou deem +That words like these thy lips beseem? +I, at the bidding of my sire, +Would cast my body to the fire, +A deadly draught of poison drink, +Or in the waves of ocean sink: +If he command, it shall be done,-- +My father and my king in one. +Then speak and let me know the thing +So longed for by my lord the king. +It shall be done: let this suffice; +Ráma ne'er makes a promise twice." + + He ended. To the princely youth +Who loved the right and spoke the truth, +Cruel, abominable came +The answer of the ruthless dame: +"When Gods and Titans fought of yore, +Transfixed with darts and bathed in gore +Two boons to me thy father gave +For the dear life 'twas mine to save. +Of him I claim the ancient debt, +That Bharat on the throne be set, +And thou, O Ráma, go this day +To Dandak forest far away. +Now, Ráma, if thou wilt maintain +Thy father's faith without a stain, +And thine own truth and honour clear, +Then, best of men, my bidding hear. +Do thou thy father's word obey, +Nor from the pledge he gave me stray. +Thy life in Dandak forest spend +Till nine long years and five shall end. +Upon my Bharat's princely head +Let consecrating drops be shed, +With all the royal pomp for thee +Made ready by the king's decree. +Seek Dandak forest and resign +Rites that would make the empire thine, +For twice seven years of exile wear +The coat of bark and matted hair. +Then in thy stead let Bharat reign +Lord of his royal sire's domain, +Rich in the fairest gems that shine, +Cars, elephants, and steeds, and kine. +The monarch mourns thy altered fate +And vails his brow compassionate: +Bowed down by bitter grief he lies +And dares not lift to thine his eyes. +Obey his word: be firm and brave, +And with great truth the monarch save." + While thus with cruel words she spoke, + No grief the noble youth betrayed; +But forth the father's anguish broke, + At his dear Ráma's lot dismayed. + + + + +Canto XIX. Ráma's Promise. + + +Calm and unmoved by threatened woe +The noble conqueror of the foe +Answered the cruel words she spoke, +Nor quailed beneath the murderous stroke: + + "Yea, for my father's promise sake +I to the wood my way will take, +And dwell a lonely exile there +In hermit dress with matted hair. +One thing alone I fain would learn, +Why is the king this day so stern? +Why is the scourge of foes so cold, +Nor gives me greeting as of old? +Now let not anger flush thy cheek: +Before thy face the truth I speak, +In hermit's coat with matted hair +To the wild wood will I repair. +How can I fail his will to do, +Friend, master, grateful sovereign too? +One only pang consumes my breast: +That his own lips have not expressed +His will, nor made his longing known +That Bharat should ascend the throne. +To Bharat I would yield my wife, +My realm and wealth, mine own dear life, +Unasked I fain would yield them all: +More gladly at my father's call, +More gladly when the gift may free +His honour and bring joy to thee. +Thus, lady, his sad heart release +From the sore shame, and give him peace. +But tell me, O, I pray thee, why +The lord of men, with downcast eye, +Lies prostrate thus, and one by one +Down his pale cheek the tear-drops run. +Let couriers to thy father speed +On horses of the swiftest breed, +And, by the mandate of the king, +Thy Bharat to his presence bring. +My father's words I will not stay +To question, but this very day +To Dandak's pathless wild will fare, +For twice seven years an exile there." + + When Ráma thus had made reply +Kaikeyí's heart with joy beat high. +She, trusting to the pledge she held, +The youth's departure thus impelled: +"'Tis well. Be messengers despatched +On coursers ne'er for fleetness matched, +To seek my father's home and lead +My Bharat back with all their speed. +And, Ráma, as I ween that thou +Wilt scarce endure to linger now, +So surely it were wise and good +This hour to journey to the wood. +And if, with shame cast down and weak, +No word to thee the king can speak, +Forgive, and from thy mind dismiss +A trifle in an hour like this. +But till thy feet in rapid haste +Have left the city for the waste, +And to the distant forest fled, +He will not bathe nor call for bread." + + "Woe! woe!" from the sad monarch burst, +In surging floods of grief immersed; +Then swooning, with his wits astray, +Upon the gold-wrought couch he lay, +And Ráma raised the aged king: +But the stern queen, unpitying, +Checked not her needless words, nor spared +The hero for all speed prepared, +But urged him with her bitter tongue, +Like a good horse with lashes stung, +She spoke her shameful speech. Serene +He heard the fury of the queen, +And to her words so vile and dread +Gently, unmoved in mind, he said: +"I would not in this world remain +A grovelling thrall to paltry gain, +But duty's path would fain pursue, +True as the saints themselves are true. +From death itself I would not fly +My father's wish to gratify, +What deed soe'er his loving son +May do to please him, think it done. +Amid all duties, Queen, I count +This duty first and paramount, +That sons, obedient, aye fulfil +Their honoured fathers' word and will. +Without his word, if thou decree, +Forth to the forest will I flee, +And there shall fourteen years be spent +Mid lonely wilds in banishment. +Methinks thou couldst not hope to find +One spark of virtue in my mind, +If thou, whose wish is still my lord, +Hast for this grace the king implored. +This day I go, but, ere we part, +Must cheer my Sítá's tender heart, +To my dear mother bid farewell; +Then to the woods, a while to dwell. +With thee, O Queen, the care must rest +That Bharat hear his sire's behest, +And guard the land with righteous sway, +For such the law that lives for aye." + + In speechless woe the father heard, +Wept with loud cries, but spoke no word. +Then Ráma touched his senseless feet, +And hers, for honour most unmeet; +Round both his circling steps he bent, +Then from the bower the hero went. +Soon as he reached the gate he found +His dear companions gathered round. +Behind him came Sumitrá's child +With weeping eyes so sad and wild. +Then saw he all that rich array +Of vases for the glorious day. +Round them with reverent stops he paced, +Nor vailed his eye, nor moved in haste. +The loss of empire could not dim +The glory that encompassed him. +So will the Lord of Cooling Rays(286) +On whom the world delights to gaze, +Through the great love of all retain +Sweet splendour in the time of wane. +Now to the exile's lot resigned +He left the rule of earth behind: +As though all worldly cares he spurned +No trouble was in him discerned. +The chouries that for kings are used, +And white umbrella, he refused, +Dismissed his chariot and his men, +And every friend and citizen. +He ruled his senses, nor betrayed +The grief that on his bosom weighed, +And thus his mother's mansion sought +To tell the mournful news he brought. +Nor could the gay-clad people there +Who flocked round Ráma true and fair, +One sign of altered fortune trace +Upon the splendid hero's face. +Nor had the chieftain, mighty-armed, +Lost the bright look all hearts that charmed, +As e'en from autumn moons is thrown +A splendour which is all their own. +With his sweet voice the hero spoke +Saluting all the gathered folk, +Then righteous-souled and great in fame +Close to his mother's house he came. +Lakshman the brave, his brother's peer +In princely virtues, followed near, +Sore troubled, but resolved to show +No token of his secret woe. +Thus to the palace Ráma went + Where all were gay with hope and joy; +But well he knew the dire event + That hope would mar, that bliss destroy. +So to his grief he would not yield + Lest the sad change their hearts might rend, +And, the dread tiding unrevealed, + Spared from the blow each faithful friend. + + + + +Canto XX. Kausalyá's Lament. + + +But in the monarch's palace, when +Sped from the bower that lord of men, +Up from the weeping women went +A mighty wail and wild lament: +"Ah, he who ever freely did +His duty ere his sire could bid, +Our refuge and our sure defence, +This day will go an exile hence, +He on Kausalyá loves to wait +Most tender and affectionate, +And as he treats his mother, thus +From childhood has he treated us. +On themes that sting he will not speak, +And when reviled is calm and meek. +He soothes the angry, heals offence: +He goes to-day an exile hence. +Our lord the king is most unwise, +And looks on life with doting eyes, +Who in his folly casts away +The world's protection, hope, and stay." + + Thus in their woe, like kine bereaved +Of their young calves,(287) the ladies grieved, +And ever as they wept and wailed +With keen reproach the king assailed. +Their lamentation, mixed with tears, +Smote with new grief the monarch's ears, +Who, burnt with woe too great to bear, +Fell on his couch and fainted there. + + Then Ráma, smitten with the pain +His heaving heart could scarce restrain, +Groaned like an elephant and strode +With Lakshman to the queen's abode. +A warder there, whose hoary eld +In honour high by all was held, +Guarding the mansion, sat before +The portal, girt with many more. +Swift to their feet the warders sprang, +And loud the acclamation rang, +Hail, Ráma! as to him they bent, +Of victor chiefs preëminent. +One court he passed, and in the next +Saw, masters of each Veda text, +A crowd of Bráhmans, good and sage, +Dear to the king for lore and age. +To these he bowed his reverent head, +Thence to the court beyond he sped. +Old dames and tender girls, their care +To keep the doors, were stationed there. +And all, when Ráma came in view, +Delighted to the chamber flew, +To bear to Queen Kausalyá's ear +The tidings that she loved to hear. +The queen, on rites and prayer intent, +In careful watch the night had spent, +And at the dawn, her son to aid, +To Vishnu holy offerings made. +Firm in her vows, serenely glad, +In robes of spotless linen clad, +As texts prescribe, with grace implored, +Her offerings in the fire she poured. +Within her splendid bower he came, +And saw her feed the sacred flame. +There oil, and grain, and vases stood, +With wreaths, and curds, and cates, and wood, +And milk, and sesamum, and rice, +The elements of sacrifice. +She, worn and pale with many a fast +And midnight hours in vigil past, +In robes of purest white arrayed, +To Lakshmí Queen drink-offerings paid. +So long away, she flew to meet + The darling of her soul: +So runs a mare with eager feet + To welcome back her foal. +He with his firm support upheld + The queen, as near she drew, +And, by maternal love impelled, + Her arms around him threw. +Her hero son, her matchless boy + She kissed upon the head: +She blessed him in her pride and joy + With tender words, and said: +"Be like thy royal sires of old, +The nobly good, the lofty-souled! +Their lengthened days and fame be thine, +And virtue, as beseems thy line! +The pious king, thy father, see +True to his promise made to thee: +That truth thy sire this day will show, +And regent's power on thee bestow." + + She spoke. He took the proffered seat, +And as she pressed her son to eat, +Raised reverent bands, and, touched with shame, +Made answer to the royal dame: +"Dear lady, thou hast yet to know +That danger threats, and heavy woe: +A grief that will with sore distress +On Sítá, thee, and Lakshman press. +What need of seats have such as I? +This day to Dandak wood I fly. +The hour is come, a time, unmeet +For silken couch and gilded seat. +I must to lonely wilds repair, +Abstain from flesh, and living there +On roots, fruit, honey, hermit's food, +Pass twice seven years in solitude. +To Bharat's hand the king will yield +The regent power I thought to wield, +And me, a hermit, will he send +My days in Dandak wood to spend." + + As when the woodman's axe has lopped +A Sal branch in the grove, she dropped: +So from the skies a Goddess falls +Ejected from her radiant halls. + + When Ráma saw her lying low, +Prostrate by too severe a blow, +Around her form his arms he wound +And raised her fainting from the ground. +His hand upheld her like a mare +Who feels her load too sore to bear, +And sinks upon the way o'ertoiled, +And all her limbs with dust are soiled. +He soothed her in her wild distress +With loving touch and soft caress. +She, meet for highest fortune, eyed +The hero watching by her side, +And thus, while Lakshman bent to hear, +Addressed her son with many a tear! +"If, Ráma, thou had ne'er been born +My child to make thy mother mourn, +Though reft of joy, a childless queen, +Such woe as this I ne'er had seen. +Though to the childless wife there clings +One sorrow armed with keenest stings, +"No child have I: no child have I," +No second misery prompts the sigh. +When long I sought, alas, in vain, +My husband's love and bliss to gain, +In Ráma all my hopes I set +And dreamed I might be happy yet. +I, of the consorts first and best, +Must bear my rivals' taunt and jest, +And brook, though better far than they, +The soul distressing words they say. +What woman can be doomed to pine +In misery more sore than mine, +Whose hopeless days must still be spent +In grief that ends not and lament? +They scorned me when my son was nigh; +When he is banished I must die. +Me, whom my husband never prized, +Kaikeyí's retinue despised +With boundless insolence, though she +Tops not in rank nor equals me. +And they who do me service yet, +Nor old allegiance quite forget, +Whene'er they see Kaikeyí's son, +With silent lips my glances shun. +How, O my darling, shall I brook +Each menace of Kaikeyí's look, +And listen, in my low estate, +To taunts of one so passionate? +For seventeen years since thou wast born +I sat and watched, ah me, forlorn! +Hoping some blessed day to see +Deliverance from my woes by thee. +Now comes this endless grief and wrong, +So dire I cannot bear it long, +Sinking, with age and sorrow worn, +Beneath my rivals' taunts and scorn. +How shall I pass in dark distress +My long lone days of wretchedness +Without my Ráma's face, as bright +As the full moon to cheer my sight? +Alas, my cares thy steps to train, +And fasts, and vows, and prayers are vain. +Hard, hard, I ween, must be this heart +To hear this blow nor burst apart, +As some great river bank, when first +The floods of Rain-time on it burst. +No, Fate that speeds not will not slay, + Nor Yama's halls vouchsafe me room, + Or, like a lion's weeping prey, + Death now had borne me to my doom. + Hard is my heart and wrought of steel + That breaks not with the crushing blow, + Or in the pangs this day I feel + My lifeless frame had sunk below. + Death waits his hour, nor takes me now: + But this sad thought augments my pain, + That prayer and largess, fast and vow, + And Heavenward service are in vain. + Ah me, ah me! with fruitless toil + Of rites austere a child I sought: + Thus seed cast forth on barren soil + Still lifeless lies and comes to naught. + If ever wretch by anguish grieved + Before his hour to death had fled, + I mourning, like a cow bereaved, + Had been this day among the dead." + + + + +Canto XXI. Kausalyá Calmed. + + +While thus Kausalyá wept and sighed, +With timely words sad Lakshman cried: +"O honoured Queen I like it ill +That, subject to a woman's will, +Ráma his royal state should quit +And to an exile's doom submit. +The aged king, fond, changed, and weak, +Will as the queen compels him speak. +But why should Ráma thus be sent +To the wild woods in banishment? +No least offence I find in him, +I see no fault his fame to dim. +Not one in all the world I know, +Not outcast wretch, not secret foe, +Whose whispering lips would dare assail +His spotless life with slanderous tale. +Godlike and bounteous, just, sincere, +E'en to his very foemen dear: +Who would without a cause neglect +The right, and such a son reject? +And if a king such order gave, +In second childhood, passion's slave, +What son within his heart would lay +The senseless order, and obey? +Come, Ráma, ere this plot be known +Stand by me and secure the throne. +Stand like the King who rules below, +Stand aided by thy brother's bow: +How can the might of meaner men +Resist thy royal purpose then? +My shafts, if rebels court their fate, +Shall lay Ayodhyá desolate. +Then shall her streets with blood be dyed +Of those who stand on Bharat's side: +None shall my slaughtering hand exempt, +For gentle patience earns contempt. +If, by Kaikeyí's counsel changed, +Our father's heart be thus estranged, +No mercy must our arm restrain, +But let the foe be slain, be slain. +For should the guide, respected long, +No more discerning right and wrong, +Turn in forbidden paths to stray, +'Tis meet that force his steps should stay. +What power sufficient can he see, +What motive for the wish has he, +That to Kaikeyí would resign +The empire which is justly thine? +Can he, O conqueror of thy foes, +Thy strength and mine in war oppose? +Can he entrust, in our despite, +To Bharat's hand thy royal right? +I love this brother with the whole +Affection of my faithful soul. +Yea Queen, by bow and truth I swear, +By sacrifice, and gift, and prayer, +If Ráma to the forest goes, +Or where the burning furnace glows, +First shall my feet the forest tread, +The flames shall first surround my head. +My might shall chase thy grief and tears, +As darkness flies when morn appears. +Do thou, dear Queen, and Ráma too +Behold what power like mine can do. +My aged father I will kill, +The vassal of Kaikeyí's will, +Old, yet a child, the woman's thrall, +Infirm, and base, the scorn of all." + + Thus Lakshman cried, the mighty-souled: +Down her sad cheeks the torrents rolled, +As to her son Kausalyá spake: + + "Now thou hast heard thy brother, take +His counsel if thou hold it wise, +And do the thing his words advise, +Do not, my son, with tears I pray, +My rival's wicked word obey, +Leave me not here consumed with woe, +Nor to the wood, an exile, go. +If thou, to virtue ever true, +Thy duty's path would still pursue, +The highest duty bids thee stay +And thus thy mother's voice obey. +Thus Kasyap's great ascetic son +A seat among the Immortals won: +In his own home, subdued, he stayed, +And honour to his mother paid. +If reverence to thy sire be due, +Thy mother claims like honour too, +And thus I charge thee, O my child, +Thou must not seek the forest wild. +Ah, what to me were life and bliss, +Condemned my darling son to miss? +But with my Ráma near, to eat +The very grass itself were sweet. +But if thou still wilt go and leave +Thy hapless mother here to grieve, +I from that hour will food abjure, +Nor life without my son endure. +Then it will be thy fate to dwell +In depth of world-detested hell. +As Ocean in the olden time +Was guilty of an impious crime +That marked the lord of each fair flood +As one who spills a Bráhman's blood."(288) + + Thus spake the queen, and wept, and sighed: +Then righteous Ráma thus replied: +"I have no power to slight or break +Commandments which my father spake. +I bend my head, dear lady, low, +Forgive me, for I needs must go. +Once Kandu, mighty saint, who made +His dwelling in the forest shade, +A cow--and duty's claims he knew-- +Obedient to his father, slew. +And in the line from which we spring, +When ordered by their sire the king, +Through earth the sons of Sagar cleft, +And countless things of life bereft.(289) +So Jamadagní's son(290) obeyed +His sire, when in the wood he laid +His hand upon his axe, and smote +Through Renuká his mother's throat. +The deeds of these and more beside. +Peers of the Gods, my steps shall guide, +And resolute will I fulfil +My father's word, my father's will. +Nor I, O Queen, unsanctioned tread +This righteous path, by duty led: +The road my footsteps journey o'er +Was traversed by the great of yore. +This high command which all accept +Shall faithfully by me be kept, +For duty ne'er will him forsake +Who fears his sire's command to break." + + Thus to his mother wild with grief: +Then thus to Lakshman spake the chief +Of those by whom the bow is bent, +Mid all who speak, most eloquent: +"I know what love for me thou hast, +What firm devotion unsurpassed: +Thy valour and thy worth I know, +And glory that appals the foe. +Blest youth, my mother's woe is great, +It bends her 'neath its matchless weight: +No claims will she, with blinded eyes, +Of truth and patience recognize. +For duty is supreme in place, +And truth is duty's noblest base. +Obedient to my sire's behest +I serve the cause of duty best. +For man should truly do whate'er +To mother, Bráhman, sire, he sware: +He must in duty's path remain, +Nor let his word be pledged in vain. +And, O my brother, how can I +Obedience to this charge deny? +Kaikeyí's tongue my purpose spurred, +But 'twas my sire who gave the word. +Cast these unholy thoughts aside +Which smack of war and Warriors' pride; +To duty's call, not wrath attend, +And tread the path which I commend." + + Ráma by fond affection moved +His brother Lakshman thus reproved; +Then with joined hands and reverent head +Again to Queen Kausalyá said: + + "I needs must go--do thou consent-- +To the wild wood in banishment. +O give me, by my life I pray, +Thy blessing ere I go away. +I, when the promised years are o'er, +Shall see Ayodhyá's town once more. +Then, mother dear, thy tears restrain, +Nor let thy heart be wrung by pain: +In time, my father's will obeyed, +Shall I return from greenwood shade. +My dear Videhan, thou, and I, +Lakshman, Sumitrá, feel this tie, +And must my father's word obey, +As duty bids that rules for aye. +Thy preparations now forgo, +And lock within thy breast thy woe, +Nor be my pious wish withstood +To go an exile to the wood." + +Calm and unmoved the prince explained + His duty's claim and purpose high, +The mother life and sense regained, + Looked on her son and made reply: +"If reverence be thy father's due, + The same by right and love is mine: +Go not, my charge I thus renew, + Nor leave me here in woe to pine, +What were such lonely life to me, + Rites to the shades, or deathless lot? +More dear, my son, one hour with thee + Than all the world where thou art not." +As bursts to view, when brands blaze high, + Some elephant concealed by night, +So, when he heard his mother's cry, + Burnt Ráma's grief with fiercer might. +Thus to the queen, half senseless still, + And Lakshman, burnt with heart-felt pain, +True to the right, with steadfast will, + His duteous speech he spoke again: +"Brother, I know thy loving mind, + Thy valour and thy truth I know, +But now to claims of duty blind + Thou and my mother swell my woe. +The fruits of deeds in human life + Make love, gain, duty, manifest, +Dear when they meet as some fond wife + With her sweet babes upon her breast. +But man to duty first should turn + Whene'er the three are not combined: +For those who heed but gain we spurn, + And those to pleasure all resigned. +Shall then the virtuous disobey + Hosts of an aged king and sire, +Though feverous joy that father sway, + Or senseless love or causeless ire? +I have no power, commanded thus, + To slight his promise and decree: +The honoured sire of both of us, + My mother's lord and life is he. +Shall she, while yet the holy king + Is living, on the right intent,-- +Shall she, like some poor widowed thing, + Go forth with me to banishment? +Now, mother, speed thy parting son, + And let thy blessing soothe my pain, +That I may turn, mine exile done, + Like King Yayáti, home again. +Fair glory and the fruit she gives, + For lust of sway I ne'er will slight: +What, for the span a mortal lives. + Were rule of faith without the right?" +He soothed her thus, firm to the last + His counsel to his brother told: +Then round the queen in reverence passed, + And held her in his loving hold. + + + + +Canto XXII. Lakshman Calmed. + + +So Ráma kept unshaken still +His noble heart with iron will. +To his dear brother next he turned, +Whose glaring eyes with fury burned, +Indignant, panting like a snake, +And thus again his counsel spake: +"Thine anger and thy grief restrain, +And firm in duty's path remain. +Dear brother, lay thy scorn aside, +And be the right thy joy and pride. +Thy ready zeal and thoughtful care +To aid what rites should grace the heir,-- +These 'tis another's now to ask; +Come, gird thee for thy noble task, +That Bharat's throning rites may he +Graced with the things prepared for me. +And with thy gentle care provide +That her fond heart, now sorely tried +With fear and longing for my sake, +With doubt and dread may never ache. +To know that thoughts of coming ill +One hour that tender bosom fill +With agony and dark despair +Is grief too great for me to bear. +I cannot, brother, call to mind +One wilful fault or undesigned, +When I have pained in anything +My mothers or my sire the king. +The right my father keeps in view, +In promise, word, and action true; +Let him then all his fear dismiss, +Nor dread the loss of future bliss. +He fears his truth herein will fail: +Hence bitter thoughts his heart assail. +He trembles lest the rites proceed, +And at his pangs my heart should bleed. +So now this earnest wish is mine, +The consecration to resign, +And from this city turn away +To the wild wood with no delay. +My banishment to-day will free +Kaikeyí from her cares, that she, +At last contented and elate, +May Bharat's throning celebrate. +Then will the lady's trouble cease, +Then will her heart have joy and peace, +When wandering in the wood I wear +Deerskin, and bark, and matted hair. +Nor shall by me his heart be grieved +Whose choice approved, whose mind conceived +This counsel which I follow. No, +Forth to the forest will I go. +'Tis Fate, Sumitrás son, confess, +That sends me to the wilderness. +'Tis Fate alone that gives away +To other hands the royal sway. +How could Kaikeyí's purpose bring +On me this pain and suffering, +Were not her change of heart decreed +By Fate whose will commands the deed? +I know my filial love has been +The same throughout for every queen, +And with the same affection she +Has treated both her son and me. +Her shameful words of cruel spite +To stay the consecrating rite, +And drive me banished from the throne,-- +These I ascribe to Fate alone, +How could she, born of royal race, +Whom nature decks with fairest grace, +Speak like a dame of low degree +Before the king to torture me? +But Fate, which none may comprehend, +To which all life must bow and bend, +In her and me its power has shown, +And all my hopes are overthrown. +What man, Sumitrá's darling, may +Contend with Fate's resistless sway, +Whose all-commanding power we find +Our former deeds alone can bind? +Our life and death, our joy and pain, +Anger and fear, and loss and gain, +Each thing that is, in every state, +All is the work of none but Fate. +E'en saints, inspired with rigid zeal, +When once the stroke of Fate they feel, +In sternest vows no more engage, +And fall enslaved by love and rage. +So now the sudden stroke whose weight +Descends unlooked for, comes of Fate, +And with unpitying might destroys +The promise of commencing joys. +Weigh this true counsel in thy soul: +With thy firm heart thy heart control; +Then, brother, thou wilt cease to grieve +For hindered rites which now I leave. +So cast thy needless grief away, +And strictly my commands obey. +Those preparations check with speed, +Nor let my throning rites proceed. +Those urns that stand prepared to shed +King-making drops upon my head, +Shall, with their pure lustrations now +Inaugurate my hermit's vow. +Yet what have I to do with things +That touch the state and pomp of kings? +These hands of mine shall water take +To sanctify the vow I make. +Now Lakshman, let thy heart no more +My fortune changed and lost deplore. +A forest life more joys may bring +Than those that wait upon a king, +Now though her arts successful mar + My consecrating rite, + Let not the youngest queen too far + Thy jealous fear excite. + Nor let one thought suggesting ill + Upon our father fall, + But let thy heart remember still + That Fate is lord of all." + + + + +Canto XXIII. Lakshman's Anger. + + +Thus Ráma to his brother said; +And Lakshman bent his drooping head. +In turns by grief and pride impelled, +A middle course of thought he held, +Then in a frown of anger, bent +His brows that chief most excellent, +And like a serpent in his hole, +Breathed fierce and fast in wrath of soul. +His threatening brows so darkly frowned, +His eyes so fiercely glanced around, +They made his glare, which none might brook, +Like some infuriate lion's look. +Like some wild elephant, full oft +He raised and shook his hand(291) aloft. +Now turned his neck to left and right +Now bent, now raised its stately height. +Now in his rage that sword he felt +Which mangling wounds to foemen dealt, +With sidelong glance his brother eyed, +And thus in burning words replied: +"Thy rash resolve, thy eager haste, +Thy mighty fear, are all misplaced: +No room is here for duty's claim, +No cause to dread the people's blame. +Can one as brave as thou consent +To use a coward's argument? +The glory of the Warrior race +With craven speech his lips debase? +Can one like thee so falsely speak, +Exalting Fate, confessed so weak? +Canst thou, undoubting still restrain? +Suspicions of those sinful twain? +Canst thou, most duteous, fail to know +Their hearts are set on duty's show? +They with deceit have set their trains, +And now the fruit rewards their pains. +Had they not long ago agreed, +O Ráma, on this treacherous deed, +That promised boon, so long retained, +He erst had given and she had gained. +I cannot, O my brother, bear +To see another throned as heir +With rites which all our people hate: +Then, O, this passion tolerate. +This vaunted duty which can guide +Thy steps from wisdom's path aside, +And change the counsel of thy breast, +O lofty-hearted, I detest. +Wilt thou, when power and might are thine, +Submit to this abhorred design? +Thy father's impious hest fulfil, +That vassal of Kaikeyí's will? +But if thou still wilt shut thine eyes, +Nor see the guile herein that lies, +My soul is sad, I deeply mourn, +And duty seems a thing to scorn. +Canst thou one moment think to please +This pair who live for love and ease, +And 'gainst thy peace, as foes, allied, +With tenderest names their hatred hide? +Now if thy judgment still refers +To Fate this plot of his and hers, +My mind herein can ne'er agree: +And O, in this be ruled by me. +Weak, void of manly pride are they +Who bend to Fate's imputed sway: +The choicest souls, the nobly great +Disdain to bow their heads to Fate. +And he who dares his Fate control +With vigorous act and manly soul, +Though threatening Fate his hopes assail, +Unmoved through all need never quail. +This day mankind shall learn aright +The power of Fate and human might, +So shall the gulf that lies between +A man and Fate be clearly seen. +The might of Fate subdued by me +This hour the citizens shall see, +Who saw its intervention stay +Thy consecrating rites to-day. +My power shall turn this Fate aside, +That threatens, as, with furious stride, +An elephant who scorns to feel, +In rage unchecked, the driver's steel. +Not the great Lords whose sleepless might +Protects the worlds, shall stay the rite +Though earth, hell, heaven combine their powers: +And shall we fear this sire of ours? +Then if their minds are idly bent +To doom thee, King, to banishment, +Through twice seven years of exile they +Shall in the lonely forest stay. +I will consume the hopes that fire +The queen Kaikeyí and our sire, +That to her son this check will bring +Advantage, making Bharat king. +The power of Fate will ne'er withstand +The might that arms my vigorous hand; +If danger and distress assail, +My fearless strength will still prevail. +A thousand circling years shall flee: +The forest then thy home shall be, +And thy good sons, succeeding, hold +The empire which their sire controlled. +The royal saints, of old who reigned, +For aged kings this rest ordained: +These to their sons their realm commit +That they, like sires, may cherish it. +O pious soul, if thou decline +The empire which is justly thine, +Lest, while the king distracted lies, +Disorder in the state should rise, +I,--or no mansion may I find +In worlds to hero souls assigned,-- +The guardian of thy realm will be, +As the sea-bank protects the sea. +Then cast thine idle fears aside: +With prosperous rites be sanctified. +The lords of earth may strive in vain: +My power shall all their force restrain. +My pair of arms, my warrior's bow +Are not for pride or empty show: +For no support these shafts were made; +And binding up ill suits my blade: +To pierce the foe with deadly breach-- +This is the work of all and each. +But small, methinks the love I show +For him I count my mortal foe. +Soon as my trenchant steel is bare, +Flashing its lightning through the air, +I heed no foe, nor stand aghast +Though Indra's self the levin cast. +Then shall the ways be hard to pass, +Where chariots lie in ruinous mass; +When elephant and man and steed +Crushed in the murderous onslaught bleed, +And legs and heads fall, heap on heap, +Beneath my sword's tremendous sweep. +Struck by my keen brand's trenchant blade, +Thine enemies shall fall dismayed, +Like towering mountains rent in twain, +Or lightning clouds that burst in rain. +When armed with brace and glove I stand, +And take my trusty bow in hand, +Who then shall vaunt his might? who dare +Count him a man to meet me there? +Then will I loose my shafts, and strike +Man, elephant, and steed alike: +At one shall many an arrow fly, +And many a foe with one shall die. +This day the world my power shall see, +That none in arms can rival me: +My strength the monarch shall abase, +And set thee, lord, in lordliest place. +These arms which breathe the sandal's scent, +Which golden bracelets ornament, +These hands which precious gifts bestow, +Which guard the friend and smite the foe, +A nobler service shall assay, +And fight in Ráma's cause to-day, +The robbers of thy rights to stay. + Speak, brother, tell thy foeman's name + Whom I, in conquering strife, + May strip of followers and fame, + Of fortune, or of life. + Say, how may all this sea-girt land + Be brought to own thy sway: + Thy faithful servant here I stand + To listen and obey." + Then strove the bride of Raghu's race + Sad Lakshman's heart to cheer, + While slowly down the hero's face, + Unchecked, there rolled a tear. + "The orders of my sire," he cried, + "My will shall ne'er oppose: + I follow still, whate'er betide, + The path which duty shows." + + + + +Canto XXIV. Kausalyá Calmed. + + +But when Kausalyásaw that he +Resolved to keep his sire's decree, +While tears and sobs her utterance broke, +Her very righteous speech she spoke: +"Can he, a stranger yet to pain, +Whose pleasant words all hearts enchain, +Son of the king and me the queen, +Live on the grain his hands may glean; +Can he, whose slaves and menials eat +The finest cakes of sifted wheat-- +Can Ráma in the forest live +On roots and fruit which woodlands give; +Who will believe, who will not fear +When the sad story smites his ear, +That one so dear, so noble held, +Is by the king his sire expelled? +Now surely none may Fate resist, +Which orders all as it may list, +If, Ráma, in thy strength and grace, +The woods become thy dwelling-place. +A childless mother long I grieved, +And many a sigh for offspring heaved, +With wistful longing weak and worn +Till thou at last, my son, wast born. +Fanned by the storm of that desire +Deep in my soul I felt the fire, +Whose offerings flowed from weeping eyes, +With fuel fed of groans and sighs, +While round the flame the smoke grew hot +Of tears because thou camest not. +Now reft of thee, too fiery fierce +The flame of woe my heart will pierce, +As, when the days of spring return, +The sun's hot beams the forest burn. +The mother cow still follows near +The wanderings of her youngling dear. +So close to thine my feet shall be, +Where'er thou goest following thee." + + Ráma, the noblest lord of men, +Heard his fond mother's speech, and then +In soothing words like these replied +To the sad queen who wept and sighed: +"Nay, by Kaikeyí's art beguiled, +When I am banished to the wild, +If thou, my mother, also fly, +The aged king will surely die. +When wedded dames their lords forsake, +Long for the crime their souls shall ache. +Thou must not e'en in thought within +Thy bosom frame so dire a sin. +Long as Kakutstha's son, who reigns +Lord of the earth, in life remains, +Thou must with love his will obey: +This duty claims, supreme for aye. +Yes, mother, thou and I must be +Submissive to my sire's decree, +King, husband, sire is he confessed, +The lord of all, the worthiest. +I in the wilds my days will spend +Till twice seven years have reached an end, +Then with great joy will come again, +And faithful to thy hests remain." + + Kausalyá by her son addressed, +With love and passion sore distressed, +Afflicted, with her eyes bedewed, +To Ráma thus her speech renewed: + "Nay, Ráma, but my heart will break +If with these queens my home I make. +Lead me too with thee; let me go +And wander like a woodland roe." + Then, while no tear the hero shed, +Thus to the weeping queen he said: +"Mother, while lives the husband, he +Is woman's lord and deity. +O dearest lady, thou and I +Our lord and king must ne'er deny; +The lord of earth himself have we +Our guardian wise and friend to be. +And Bharat, true to duty's call, +Whose sweet words take the hearts of all, +Will serve thee well, and ne'er forget +The virtuous path before him set. +Be this, I pray, thine earnest care, +That the old king my father ne'er, +When I have parted hence, may know, +Grieved for his son, a pang of woe. +Let not this grief his soul distress, +To kill him with the bitterness. +With duteous care, in every thing, +Love, comfort, cheer the aged king. +Though, best of womankind, a spouse +Keeps firmly all her fasts and vows, +Nor yet her husband's will obeys, +She treads in sin's forbidden ways. +She to her husband's will who bends, +Goes to high bliss that never ends, +Yea, though the Gods have found in her +No reverential worshipper. +Bent on his weal, a woman still +Must seek to do her husband's will: +For Scripture, custom, law uphold +This duty Heaven revealed of old. +Honour true Bráhmans for my sake, +And constant offerings duly make, +With fire-oblations and with flowers, +To all the host of heavenly powers. +Look to the coming time, and yearn +For the glad hour of my return. +And still thy duteous course pursue, +Abstemious, humble, kind, and true. +The highest bliss shalt thou obtain +When I from exile come again, +If, best of those who keep the right, +The king my sire still see the light." + + The queen, by Ráma thus addressed, +Still with a mother's grief oppressed, +While her long eyes with tears were dim, +Began once more and answered him: +"Not by my pleading may be stayed +The firm resolve thy soul has made. +My hero, thou wilt go; and none +The stern commands of Fate may shun. +Go forth, dear child whom naught can bend, +And may all bliss thy steps attend. +Thou wilt return, and that dear day +Will chase mine every grief away. +Thou wilt return, thy duty done, +Thy vows discharged, high glory won; +From filial debt wilt thou be free, +And sweetest joy will come on me. +My son, the will of mighty Fate +At every time must dominate, +If now it drives thee hence to stray +Heedless of me who bid thee stay. +Go, strong of arm, go forth, my boy, +Go forth, again to come with joy, +And thine expectant mother cheer +With those sweet tones she loves to hear. +O that the blessed hour were nigh +When thou shalt glad this anxious eye, +With matted hair and hermit dress +returning from the wilderness." + Kausalyá's conscious soul approved, + As her proud glance she bent + On Ráma constant and unmoved, + Resolved on banishment. + Such words, with happy omens fraught + To her dear son she said, + Invoking with each eager thought + A blessing on his head. + + + + +Canto XXV. Kausalyá's Blessing. + + +Her grief and woe she cast aside, +Her lips with water purified, +And thus her benison began +That mother of the noblest man: +"If thou wilt hear no words of mine, +Go forth, thou pride of Raghu's line. +Go, darling, and return with speed, +Walking where noble spirits lead. +May virtue on thy steps attend, +And be her faithful lover's friend. +May Those to whom thy vows are paid +In temple and in holy shade, +With all the mighty saints combine +To keep that precious life of thine. +The arms wise Visvámitra(292) gave +Thy virtuous soul from danger save. +Long be thy life: thy sure defence +Shall be thy truthful innocence, +And that obedience, naught can tire, +To me thy mother and thy sire. +May fanes where holy fires are fed, +Altars with grass and fuel spread, +Each sacrificial ground, each tree, +Rock, lake, and mountain, prosper thee. +Let old Viráj,(293) and Him who made +The universe, combine to aid; +Let Indra and each guardian Lord +Who keeps the worlds, their help afford, +And be thy constant friend the Sun, +Lord Púshá, Bhaga, Aryuman.(294) +Fortnights and seasons, nights and days, +Years, months, and hours, protect thy ways, +Vrihaspati shall still be nigh, +The War-God, and the Moon on high, +And Nárad(295) and the sainted seven(296) +Shall watch thee from their starry heaven. +The mountains, and the seas which ring +The world, and Varuna the King, +Sky, ether, and the wind, whate'er +Moves not or moves, for thee shall care. +Each lunar mansion be benign, +With happier light the planets shine; +All gods, each light in heaven that glows, +Protect my child where'er he goes. +The twilight hours, the day and night, +Keep in the wood thy steps aright. +Watch, minute, instant, as they flee, +Shall all bring happiness to thee. +Celestials and the Titan brood +Protect thee in thy solitude, +And haunt the mighty wood to bless +The wanderer in his hermit dress. +Fear not, by mightier guardians screened, +The giant or night-roving fiend; +Nor let the cruel race who tear +Man's flesh for food thy bosom scare. +Far be the ape, the scorpion's sting, +Fly, gnat, and worm, and creeping thing. +Thee shall the hungry lion spare, +The tiger, elephant, and bear: +Safe, from their furious might repose, +Safe from the horned buffaloes. +Each savage thing the forests breed, +That love on human flesh to feed, +Shall for my child its rage abate, +When thus its wrath I deprecate. +Blest be thy ways: may sweet success +The valour of my darling bless. +To all that Fortune can bestow, +Go forth, my child, my Ráma, go. +Go forth, O happy in the love +Of all the Gods below, above; +And in those guardian powers confide +Thy paths who keep, thy steps who guide. +May Sukra,(297) Yáma, Sun, and Moon, +And He who gives each golden boon,(298) +Won by mine earnest prayers, be good +To thee, my son, in Dandak wood. +Fire, wind, and smoke, each text and spell +From mouths of holy seers that fell, +Guard Ráma when his limbs he dips, +Or with the stream makes pure his lips! +May the great saints and He, the Lord +Who made the worlds, by worlds adored, +And every God in heaven beside +My banished Ráma keep and guide." + + Thus with due praise the long-eyed dame, +Ennobled by her spotless fame, +With wreaths of flowers and precious scent +Worshipped the Gods, most reverent. +A high-souled Bráhman lit the fire, +And offered, at the queen's desire, +The holy oil ordained to burn +For Ráma's weal and safe return. +Kausalyá best of dames, with care +Set oil, wreaths, fuel, mustard, there. +Then when the rites of fire had ceased, +For Ráma's bliss and health, the priest, +Standing without gave what remained +In general offering,(299) as ordained. +Dealing among the twice-horn train +Honey, and curds, and oil, and grain, +He bade each heart and voice unite +To bless the youthful anchorite. +Then Ráma's mother, glorious dame +Bestowed, to meet the Bráhman's claim, +A lordly fee for duty done: +And thus again addressed her son: + + "Such blessings as the Gods o'erjoyed +Poured forth, when Vritra(300) was destroyed, +On Indra of the thousand eyes, +Attend, my child, thine enterprise! +Yea, such as Vinatá once gave +To King Suparna(301) swift and brave, +Who sought the drink that cheers the skies, +Attend, my child, thine enterprise! +Yea, such as, when the Amrit rose,(302) +And Indra slew his Daitya foes, +The royal Aditi bestowed +On Him whose hand with slaughter glowed +Of that dire brood of monstrous size, +Attend, my child, thine enterprise! +E'en such as peerless Vishnu graced, +When with his triple step he paced, +Outbursting from the dwarf's disguise,(303) +Attend, my child, thine enterprise! +Floods, isles, and seasons as they fly, +Worlds, Vedas, quarters of the sky, +Combine, O mighty-armed, to bless +Thee destined heir of happiness!" + + The long-eyed lady ceased: she shed +Pure scent and grain upon his head. +And that prized herb whose sovereign power +Preserves from dark misfortune's hour, +Upon the hero's arm she set, +To be his faithful amulet. +While holy texts she murmured low, +And spoke glad words though crushed by woe, +Concealing with obedient tongue +The pangs with which her heart was wrung. +She bent, she kissed his brow, she pressed +Her darling to her troubled breast: +"Firm in thy purpose, go," she cried, +"Go Ráma, and may bliss betide. +Attain returning safe and well, +Triumphant in Ayodhyá, dwell. +Then shall my happy eyes behold +The empire by thy will controlled. +Then grief and care shall leave no trace, +Joy shall light up thy mother's face, +And I shall see my darling reign, +In moonlike glory come again. +These eyes shall fondly gaze on thee +So faithful to thy sire's decree, +When thou the forest wild shalt quit +On thine ancestral throne to sit. +Yea, thou shalt turn from exile back, +Nor choicest blessings ever lack, +Then fill with rapture ever new +My bosom and thy consort's too. + To Siva and the heavenly host + My worship has been paid, + To mighty saint, to godlike ghost, + To every wandering shade. + Forth to the forest thou wilt hie, + Therein to dwell so long: + Let all the quarters of the sky + Protect my child from wrong." + Her blessings thus the queen bestowed; + Then round him fondly paced, + And often, while her eyes o'erflowed, + Her dearest son embraced. + Kausalyá's honoured feet he pressed, + As round her steps she bent, + And radiant with her prayers that blessed, + To Sítá's home he went. + + + + +Canto XXVI. Alone With Sítá. + + +So Ráma, to his purpose true, +To Queen Kausalyá bade adieu, +Received the benison she gave, +And to the path of duty clave. +As through the crowded street he passed, +A radiance on the way he cast, +And each fair grace, by all approved, +The bosoms of the people moved. + + Now of the woeful change no word +The fair Videhan bride had heard; +The thought of that imperial rite +Still filled her bosom with delight. +With grateful heart and joyful thought +The Gods in worship she had sought, +And, well in royal duties learned, +Sat longing till her lord returned, +Not all unmarked by grief and shame +Within his sumptuous home he came, +And hurried through the happy crowd +With eye dejected, gloomy-browed. +Up Sítá sprang, and every limb +Trembled with fear at sight of him. +She marked that cheek where anguish fed, +Those senses care-disquieted. +For, when he looked on her, no more +Could his heart hide the load it bore, +Nor could the pious chief control +The paleness o'er his cheek that stole. +His altered cheer, his brow bedewed +With clammy drops, his grief she viewed, +And cried, consumed with fires of woe, +"What, O my lord, has changed thee so? +Vrihaspati looks down benign, +And the moon rests in Pushya's sign, +As Bráhmans sage this day declare: +Then whence, my lord, this grief and care? +Why does no canopy, like foam +For its white beauty, shade thee home, +Its hundred ribs spread wide to throw +Splendour on thy fair head below? +Where are the royal fans, to grace +The lotus beauty of thy face, +Fair as the moon or wild-swan's wing, +And waving round the new-made king? +Why do no sweet-toned bards rejoice +To hail thee with triumphant voice? +No tuneful heralds love to raise +Loud music in their monarch's praise? +Why do no Bráhmans, Scripture-read, +Pour curds and honey on thy head, +Anointed, as the laws ordain, +With holy rites, supreme to reign? +Where are the chiefs of every guild? +Where are the myriads should have filled +The streets, and followed home their king +With merry noise and triumphing? +Why does no gold-wrought chariot lead +With four brave horses, best for speed? +No elephant precede the crowd +Like a huge hill or thunder cloud, +Marked from his birth for happy fate, +Whom signs auspicious decorate? +Why does no henchman, young and fair, +Precede thee, and delight to bear +Entrusted to his reverent hold +The burthen of thy throne of gold? +Why, if the consecrating rite +Be ready, why this mournful plight? +Why do I see this sudden change, +This altered mien so sad and strange?" + + To her, as thus she weeping cried, +Raghu's illustrious son replied: + "Sítá, my honoured sire's decree +Commands me to the woods to flee. +O high-born lady, nobly bred +In the good paths thy footsteps tread, +Hear, Janak's daughter, while I tell +The story as it all befell. +Of old my father true and brave +Two boons to Queen Kaikeyí gave. +Through these the preparations made +For me to-day by her are stayed, +For he is bound to disallow +This promise by that earlier vow. +In Dandak forest wild and vast +Must fourteen years by me be passed. +My father's will makes Bharat heir, +The kingdom and the throne to share. +Now, ere the lonely wild I seek, +I come once more with thee to speak. +In Bharat's presence, O my dame, +Ne'er speak with pride of Ráma's name: +Another's eulogy to hear +Is hateful to a monarch's ear. +Thou must with love his rule obey +To whom my father yields the sway. +With love and sweet observance learn +His grace, and more the king's, to earn. +Now, that my father may not break +The words of promise that he spake, +To the drear wood my steps are bent: +Be firm, good Sítá, and content. +Through all that time, my blameless spouse, +Keep well thy fasts and holy vows. +Rise from thy bed at break of day, +And to the Gods due worship pay. +With meek and lowly love revere +The lord of men, my father dear, +And reverence to Kausalyá show, +My mother, worn with eld and woe: +By duty's law, O best of dames, +High worship from thy love she claims, +Nor to the other queens refuse +Observance, rendering each her dues: +By love and fond attention shown +They are my mothers like mine own. +Let Bharat and Satrughna bear +In thy sweet love a special share: +Dear as my life, O let them be +Like brother and like son to thee. +In every word and deed refrain +From aught that Bharat's soul may pain: +He is Ayodhyá's king and mine, +The head and lord of all our line. +For those who serve and love them much +With weariless endeavour, touch +And win the gracious hearts of kings. +While wrath from disobedience springs. +Great monarchs from their presence send +Their lawful sons who still offend, +And welcome to the vacant place +Good children of an alien race. +Then, best of women, rest thou here, +And Bharat's will with love revere. +Obedient to thy king remain, +And still thy vows of truth maintain. + To the wide wood my steps I bend: + Make thou thy dwelling here; + See that thy conduct ne'er offend, + And keep my words, my dear." + + + + +Canto XXVII. Sítá's Speech. + + +His sweetly-speaking bride, who best +Deserved her lord, he thus addressed. +Then tender love bade passion wake, +And thus the fair Videhan spake: +"What words are these that thou hast said? +Contempt of me the thought has bred. +O best of heroes, I dismiss +With bitter scorn a speech like this: +Unworthy of a warrior's fame +It taints a monarch's son with shame, +Ne'er to be heard from those who know +The science of the sword and bow. +My lord, the mother, sire, and son +Receive their lots by merit won; +The brother and the daughter find +The portions to their deeds assigned. +The wife alone, whate'er await, +Must share on earth her husband's fate. +So now the king's command which sends +Thee to the wild, to me extends. +The wife can find no refuge, none, +In father, mother, self, or son: +Both here, and when they vanish hence, +Her husband is her sole defence. +If, Raghu's son, thy steps are led +Where Dandak's pathless wilds are spread, +My foot before thine own shall pass +Through tangled thorn and matted grass. +Dismiss thine anger and thy doubt: +Like refuse water cast them out, +And lead me, O my hero, hence-- +I know not sin--with confidence. +Whate'er his lot, 'tis far more sweet +To follow still a husband's feet +Than in rich palaces to lie, +Or roam at pleasure through the sky. +My mother and my sire have taught +What duty bids, and trained each thought, +Nor have I now mine ear to turn +The duties of a wife to learn. +I'll seek with thee the woodland dell +And pathless wild where no men dwell, +Where tribes of silvan creatures roam, +And many a tiger makes his home. +My life shall pass as pleasant there +As in my father's palace fair. +The worlds shall wake no care in me; +My only care be truth to thee. +There while thy wish I still obey, +True to my vows with thee I'll stray, +And there shall blissful hours be spent +In woods with honey redolent. +In forest shades thy mighty arm +Would keep a stranger's life from harm, +And how shall Sítá think of fear +When thou, O glorious lord, art near? +Heir of high bliss, my choice is made, +Nor can I from my will be stayed. +Doubt not; the earth will yield me roots, +These will I eat, and woodland fruits; +And as with thee I wander there +I will not bring thee grief or care. +I long, when thou, wise lord, art nigh, +All fearless, with delighted eye +To gaze upon the rocky hill, +The lake, the fountain, and the rill; +To sport with thee, my limbs to cool, +In some pure lily-covered pool, +While the white swan's and mallard's wings +Are plashing in the water-springs. +So would a thousand seasons flee +Like one sweet day, if spent with thee. +Without my lord I would not prize +A home with Gods above the skies: +Without my lord, my life to bless, +Where could be heaven or happiness? + Forbid me not: with thee I go + The tangled wood to tread. + There will I live with thee, as though + This roof were o'er my head. + My will for thine shall be resigned; + Thy feet my steps shall guide. + Thou, only thou, art in my mind: + I heed not all beside. + Thy heart shall ne'er by me be grieved; + Do not my prayer deny: + Take me, dear lord; of thee bereaved + Thy Sítá swears to die." + These words the duteous lady spake, + Nor would he yet consent + His faithful wife with him to take + To share his banishment. + He soothed her with his gentle speech; + To change her will he strove; + And much he said the woes to teach + Of those in wilds who rove. + + + + +Canto XXVIII. The Dangers Of The Wood. + + +Thus Sítá spake, and he who knew +His duty, to its orders true, +Was still reluctant as the woes +Of forest life before him rose. +He sought to soothe her grief, to dry +The torrent from each brimming eye, +And then, her firm resolve to shake, +These words the pious hero spake: + + "O daughter of a noble line, +Whose steps from virtue ne'er decline, +Remain, thy duties here pursue, +As my fond heart would have thee do. +Now hear me, Sítá, fair and weak, +And do the words that I shall speak. +Attend and hear while I explain +Each danger in the wood, each pain. +Thy lips have spoken: I condemn +The foolish words that fell from them. +This senseless plan, this wish of thine +To live a forest life, resign. +The names of trouble and distress +Suit well the tangled wilderness. +In the wild wood no joy I know, +A forest life is nought but woe. +The lion in his mountain cave +Answers the torrents as they rave, +And forth his voice of terror throws: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +There mighty monsters fearless play, +And in their maddened onset slay +The hapless wretch who near them goes: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +'Tis hard to ford each treacherous flood, +So thick with crocodiles and mud, +Where the wild elephants repose: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +Or far from streams the wanderer strays +Through thorns and creeper-tangled ways, +While round him many a wild-cock crows: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +On the cold ground upon a heap +Of gathered leaves condemned to sleep, +Toil-wearied, will his eyelids close: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +Long days and nights must he content +His soul with scanty aliment, +What fruit the wind from branches blows: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +O Sítá, while his strength may last, +The ascetic in the wood must fast, +Coil on his head his matted hair, +And bark must be his only wear. +To Gods and spirits day by day +The ordered worship he must pay, +And honour with respectful care +Each wandering guest who meets him there. +The bathing rites he ne'er must shun +At dawn, at noon, at set of sun, +Obedient to the law he knows: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +To grace the altar must be brought +The gift of flowers his hands have sought-- +The debt each pious hermit owes: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +The devotee must be content +To live, severely abstinent, +On what the chance of fortune shows: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +Hunger afflicts him evermore: +The nights are black, the wild winds roar; +And there are dangers worse than those: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +There creeping things in every form +Infest the earth, the serpents swarm, +And each proud eye with fury glows: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +The snakes that by the rives hide +In sinuous course like rivers glide, +And line the path with deadly foes: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +Scorpions, and grasshoppers, and flies +Disturb the wanderer as he lies, +And wake him from his troubled doze: +The wood, my love, is full of woes. +Trees, thorny bushes, intertwined, +Their branched ends together bind, +And dense with grass the thicket grows: +The wood, my dear, is full of woes, +With many ills the flesh is tried, +When these and countless fears beside +Vex those who in the wood remain: +The wilds are naught but grief and pain. +Hope, anger must be cast aside, +To penance every thought applied: +No fear must be of things to fear: +Hence is the wood for ever drear. +Enough, my love: thy purpose quit: +For forest life thou art not fit. +As thus I think on all, I see +The wild wood is no place for thee." + + + + +Canto XXIX. Sítá's Appeal. + + +Thus Ráma spake. Her lord's address +The lady heard with deep distress, +And, as the tear bedimmed her eye, +In soft low accents made reply: +"The perils of the wood, and all +The woes thou countest to appal, +Led by my love I deem not pain; +Each woe a charm, each loss a gain. +Tiger, and elephant, and deer, +Bull, lion, buffalo, in fear, +Soon as thy matchless form they see, +With every silvan beast will flee. +With thee, O Ráma, I must go: +My sire's command ordains it so. +Bereft of thee, my lonely heart +Must break, and life and I must part. +While thou, O mighty lord, art nigh, +Not even He who rules the sky, +Though He is strongest of the strong, +With all his might can do me wrong. +Nor can a lonely woman left +By her dear husband live bereft. +In my great love, my lord, I ween, +The truth of this thou mayst have seen. +In my sire's palace long ago +I heard the chief of those who know, +The truth-declaring Bráhmans, tell +My fortune, in the wood to dwell. +I heard their promise who divine +The future by each mark and sign, +And from that hour have longed to lead +The forest life their lips decreed. +Now, mighty Ráma, I must share +Thy father's doom which sends thee there; +In this I will not be denied, +But follow, love, where thou shalt guide. +O husband, I will go with thee, +Obedient to that high decree. +Now let the Bráhmans' words be true, +For this the time they had in view. +I know full well the wood has woes; +But they disturb the lives of those +Who in the forest dwell, nor hold +Their rebel senses well controlled. +In my sire's halls, ere I was wed, +I heard a dame who begged her bread +Before my mother's face relate +What griefs a forest life await. +And many a time in sport I prayed +To seek with thee the greenwood shade, +For O, my heart on this is set, +To follow thee, dear anchoret. +May blessings on thy life attend: +I long with thee my steps to bend, +For with such hero as thou art +This pilgrimage enchants my heart. +Still close, my lord, to thy dear side +My spirit will be purified: +Love from all sin my soul will free: +My husband is a God to me. +So, love, with thee shall I have bliss +And share the life that follows this. +I heard a Bráhman, dear to fame, +This ancient Scripture text proclaim: +"The woman whom on earth below +Her parents on a man bestow, +And lawfully their hands unite +With water and each holy rite, +She in this world shall be his wife, +His also in the after life." +Then tell me, O beloved, why +Thou wilt this earnest prayer deny, +Nor take me with thee to the wood, +Thine own dear wife so true and good. +But if thou wilt not take me there +Thus grieving in my wild despair, +To fire or water I will fly, +Or to the poisoned draught, and die." + + So thus to share his exile, she +Besought him with each earnest plea, +Nor could she yet her lord persuade +To take her to the lonely shade. +The answer of the strong-armed chief +Smote the Videhan's soul with grief, +And from her eyes the torrents came +bathing the bosom of the dame. + + + + +Canto XXX. The Triumph Of Love. + + +The daughter of Videha's king, +While Ráma strove to soothe the sting +Of her deep anguish, thus began +Once more in furtherance of her plan: +And with her spirit sorely tried +By fear and anger, love and pride, +With keenly taunting words addressed +Her hero of the stately breast: +"Why did the king my sire, who reigns +O'er fair Videha's wide domains, +Hail Ráma son with joy unwise, +A woman in a man's disguise? +Now falsely would the people say, +By idle fancies led astray, +That Ráma's own are power and might, +As glorious as the Lord of Light. +Why sinkest thou in such dismay? +What fears upon thy spirit weigh, +That thou, O Ráma, fain wouldst flee +From her who thinks of naught but thee? +To thy dear will am I resigned +In heart and body, soul and mind, +As Sávitrí gave all to one, +Satyaván, Dyumatsena's son.(304) +Not e'en in fancy can I brook +To any guard save thee to look: +Let meaner wives their houses shame, +To go with thee is all my claim. +Like some low actor, deemst thou fit +Thy wife to others to commit-- +Thine own, espoused in maiden youth, +Thy wife so long, unblamed for truth? +Do thou, my lord, his will obey +For whom thou losest royal sway, +To whom thou wouldst thy wife confide-- +Not me, but thee, his wish may guide. +Thou must not here thy wife forsake, +And to the wood thy journey make, +Whether stern penance, grief, and care, +Or rule or heaven await thee there. +Nor shall fatigue my limbs distress +When wandering in the wilderness: +Each path which near to thee I tread +Shall seem a soft luxurious bed. +The reeds, the bushes where I pass, +The thorny trees, the tangled grass +Shall feel, if only thou be near, +Soft to my touch as skins of deer. +When the rude wind in fury blows, +And scattered dust upon me throws, +That dust, beloved lord, to me +Shall as the precious sandal be. +And what shall be more blest than I, +When gazing on the wood I lie +In some green glade upon a bed +With sacred grass beneath us spread? +The root, the leaf, the fruit which thou +Shalt give me from the earth or bough, +Scanty or plentiful, to eat, +Shall taste to me as Amrit sweet. +As there I live on flowers and roots +And every season's kindly fruits, +I will not for my mother grieve, +My sire, my home, or all I leave. +My presence, love, shall never add +One pain to make the heart more sad; +I will not cause thee grief or care, +Nor be a burden hard to bear. +With thee is heaven, where'er the spot; +Each place is hell where thou art not. +Then go with me, O Ráma; this +Is all my hope and all my bliss. +If thou wilt leave thy wife who still +Entreats thee with undaunted will, +This very day shall poison close +The life that spurns the rule of foes. +How, after, can my soul sustain +The bitter life of endless pain, +When thy dear face, my lord, I miss? +No, death is better far than this. +Not for an hour could I endure +The deadly grief that knows not cure, +Far less a woe I could not shun +For ten long years, and three, and one." + + While fires of woe consumed her, such +Her sad appeal, lamenting much; +Then with a wild cry, anguish-wrung, +About her husband's neck she clung. +Like some she-elephant who bleeds +Struck by the hunter's venomed reeds, +So in her quivering heart she felt +The many wounds his speeches dealt. +Then, as the spark from wood is gained,(305) +Down rolled the tear so long restrained: +The crystal moisture, sprung from woe, +From her sweet eyes began to flow, +As runs the water from a pair +Of lotuses divinely fair. +And Sítá's face with long dark eyes, +Pure as the moon of autumn skies, +Faded with weeping, as the buds +Of lotuses when sink the floods. +Around his wife his arms he strained, +Who senseless from her woe remained, +And with sweet words, that bade her wake +To life again, the hero spake: +"I would not with thy woe, my Queen, +Buy heaven and all its blissful sheen. +Void of all fear am I as He, +The self-existent God, can be. +I knew not all thy heart till now, +Dear lady of the lovely brow, +So wished not thee in woods to dwell; +Yet there mine arm can guard thee well. +Now surely thou, dear love, wast made +To dwell with me in green wood shade. +And, as a high saint's tender mind +Clings to its love for all mankind, +So I to thee will ever cling, +Sweet daughter of Videha's king. +The good, of old, O soft of frame, +Honoured this duty's sovereign claim, +And I its guidance will not shun, +True as light's Queen is to the Sun. +I cannot, pride of Janak's line, +This journey to the wood decline: +My sire's behest, the oath he sware, +The claims of truth, all lead me there. +One duty, dear the same for aye, +Is sire and mother to obey: +Should I their orders once transgress +My very life were weariness. +If glad obedience be denied +To father, mother, holy guide, +What rites, what service can be done +That stern Fate's favour may be won? +These three the triple world comprise, +O darling of the lovely eyes. +Earth has no holy thing like these +Whom with all love men seek to please. +Not truth, or gift, or bended knee, +Not honour, worship, lordly fee, +Storms heaven and wins a blessing thence +Like sonly love and reverence. +Heaven, riches, grain, and varied lore, +With sons and many a blessing more, +All these are made their own with ease +By those their elders' souls who please. +The mighty-souled, who ne'er forget, +Devoted sons, their filial debt, +Win worlds where Gods and minstrels are, +And Brahmá's sphere more glorious far. +Now as the orders of my sire, +Who keeps the way of truth, require, +So will I do, for such the way +Of duty that endures for aye: +To take thee, love, to Dandak's wild +My heart at length is reconciled, +For thee such earnest thoughts impel +To follow, and with me to dwell. +O faultless form from feet to brows, +Come with me, as my will allows, +And duty there with me pursue, +Trembler, whose bright eyes thrill me through. +In all thy days, come good come ill, +Preserve unchanged such noble will, +And thou, dear love, wilt ever be +The glory of thy house and me. +Now, beauteous-armed, begin the tasks +The woodland life of hermits asks. +For me the joys of heaven above +Have charms no more without thee, love. +And now, dear Sítá, be not slow: +Food on good mendicants bestow, +And for the holy Bráhmans bring +Thy treasures and each precious thing. +Thy best attire and gems collect, +The jewels which thy beauty decked, +And every ornament and toy +Prepared for hours of sport and joy: +The beds, the cars wherein I ride, +Among our followers, next, divide." + + She conscious that her lord approved +Her going, with great rapture moved, +Hastened within, without delay, +Prepared to give their wealth away. + + + + +Canto XXXI. Lakshman's Prayer. + + +When Lakshman, who had joined them there, +Had heard the converse of the pair, +His mien was changed, his eyes o'erflowed, +His breast no more could bear its load. +The son of Raghu, sore distressed, +His brother's feet with fervour pressed, +While thus to Sítá he complained, +And him by lofty vows enchained: +"If thou wilt make the woods thy home, +Where elephant and roebuck roam, +I too this day will take my bow +And in the path before thee go. +Our way will lie through forest ground +Where countless birds and beasts are found, +I heed not homes of Gods on high, +I heed not life that cannot die, +Nor would I wish, with thee away, +O'er the three worlds to stretch my sway." + + Thus Lakshman spake, with earnest prayer +His brother's woodland life to share. +As Ráma still his prayer denied +With soothing words, again he cried: +"When leave at first thou didst accord, +Why dost thou stay me now, my lord? +Thou art my refuge: O, be kind, +Leave me not, dear my lord, behind. +Thou canst not, brother, if thou choose +That I still live, my wish refuse." + + The glorious chief his speech renewed +To faithful Lakshman as he sued, +And on the eyes of Ráma gazed +Longing to lead, with hands upraised: +"Thou art a hero just and dear, +Whose steps to virtue's path adhere, +Loved as my life till life shall end, +My faithful brother and my friend. +If to the woods thou take thy way +With Sítá and with me to-day, +Who for Kausalyá will provide, +And guard the good Sumitrá's side? +The lord of earth, of mighty power, +Who sends good things in plenteous shower, +As Indra pours the grateful rain, +A captive lies in passion's chain. +The power imperial for her son +Has Asvapati's daughter(306) won, +And she, proud queen, will little heed +Her miserable rivals' need. +So Bharat, ruler of the land, +By Queen Kaikeyí's side will stand, +Nor of those two will ever think, +While grieving in despair they sink. +Now, Lakshman, as thy love decrees, +Or else the monarch's heart to please, +Follow this counsel and protect +My honoured mother from neglect. +So thou, while not to me alone +Thy great affection will be shown, +To highest duty wilt adhere +By serving those thou shouldst revere. +Now, son of Raghu, for my sake +Obey this one request I make, +Or, of her darling son bereft, +Kausalyá has no comfort left." + + The faithful Lakshman, thus addressed +In gentle words which love expressed, +To him in lore of language learned, +His answer, eloquent, returned: + + "Nay, through thy might each queen will share +Attentive Bharat's love and care, +Should Bharat, raised as king to sway +This noblest realm, his trust betray, +Nor for their safety well provide, +Seduced by ill-suggesting pride, +Doubt not my vengeful hand shall kill +The cruel wretch who counsels ill-- +Kill him and all who lend him aid, +And the three worlds in league arrayed. +And good Kausalyá well can fee +A thousand champions like to me. +A thousand hamlets rich in grain +The station of that queen maintain. +She may, and my dear mother too, +Live on the ample revenue. +Then let me follow thee: herein: +Is naught that may resemble sin. +So shall I in my wish succeed, +And aid, perhaps, my brother's need. +My bow and quiver well supplied +With arrows hanging at my side, +My hands shall spade and basket bear, +And for thy feet the way prepare. +I'll bring thee roots and berries sweet. +And woodland fare which hermits eat. +Thou shall with thy Videhan spouse +Recline upon the mountain's brows; +Be mine the toil, be mine to keep +Watch o'er thee waking or asleep." + + Filled by his speech with joy and pride, +Ráma to Lakshman thus replied: +"Go then, my brother, bid adieu +To all thy friends and retinue. +And those two bows of fearful might, +Celestial, which, at that famed rite, +Lord Varun gave to Janak, king +Of fair Vedeha with thee bring, +With heavenly coats of sword-proof mail, +Quivers, whose arrows never fail, +And golden-hilted swords so keen, +The rivals of the sun in sheen. +Tended with care these arms are all +Preserved in my preceptor's hall. +With speed, O Lakshman, go, produce, +And bring them hither for our use." +So on a woodland life intent, +To see his faithful friends he went, +And brought the heavenly arms which lay +By Ráma's teacher stored away. +And Raghu's son to Ráma showed +Those wondrous arms which gleamed and glowed, +Well kept, adorned with many a wreath +Of flowers on case, and hilt, and sheath. +The prudent Ráma at the sight +Addressed his brother with delight: +"Well art thou come, my brother dear, +For much I longed to see thee here. +For with thine aid, before I go, +I would my gold and wealth bestow +Upon the Bráhmans sage, who school +Their lives by stern devotion's rule. +And for all those who ever dwell +Within my house and serve me well, +Devoted servants, true and good, +Will I provide a livelihood. + Quick, go and summon to this place + The good Vasishtha's son, + Suyajna, of the Bráhman race + The first and holiest one. + To all the Bráhmans wise and good + Will I due reverence pay, + Then to the solitary wood + With thee will take my way." + + + + +Canto XXXII. The Gift Of The Treasures. + + +That speech so noble which conveyed +His friendly wish, the chief obeyed, +With steps made swift by anxious thought +The wise Suyajna's home he sought. +Him in the hall of Fire(307) he found, +And bent before him to the ground: +"O friend, to Ráma's house return, +Who now performs a task most stern." +He, when his noonday rites were done, +Went forth with fair Sumitrá's son, +And came to Ráma's bright abode +Rich in the love which Lakshmí showed. +The son of Raghu, with his dame, +With joined hands met him as he came, +Showing to him who Scripture knew +The worship that is Agni's due. +With armlets, bracelets, collars, rings, +With costly pearls on golden strings, +With many a gem for neck and limb +The son of Raghu honoured him. +Then Ráma, at his wife's request, +The wise Suyajna thus addressed: +"Accept a necklace too to deck +With golden strings thy spouse's neck. +And Sítá here, my friend, were glad +A girdle to her gift to add. +And many a bracelet wrought with care, +And many an armlet rich and rare, +My wife to thine is fain to give, +Departing in the wood to live. +A bed by skilful workmen made, +With gold and various gems inlaid-- +This too, before she goes, would she +Present, O saintly friend, to thee. +Thine be my elephant, so famed, +My uncle's present, Victor named; +And let a thousand coins of gold, +Great Bráhman, with the gift be told." +Thus Ráma spoke: nor he declined +The noble gifts for him designed. +On Ráma, Lakshman, Sítá he +Invoked all high felicity. + + In pleasant words then Ráma gave +His best to Lakshman prompt and brave, +As Brahmá speaks for Him to hear +Who rules the Gods' celestial sphere: +"To the two best of Bráhmans run; +Agastya bring, and Kusik's son, +And precious gifts upon them rain, +Like fostering floods upon the grain. +O long-armed Prince of Raghu's line, +Delight them with a thousand kine, +And many a fair and costly gem, +With gold and silver, give to them. +To him, so deep in Scripture, who, +To Queen Kausalyá, ever true, +Serves her with blessing and respect, +Chief of the Taittiríya sect(308)-- +To him, with women-slaves, present +A chariot rich with ornament, +And costly robes of silk beside, +Until the sage be satisfied. +On Chitraratha, true and dear, +My tuneful bard and charioteer, +Gems, robes, and plenteous wealth confer-- +Mine ancient friend and minister. +And these who go with staff in hand, +Grammarians trained, a numerous band, +Who their deep study only prize, +Nor think of other exercise, +Who toil not, loving dainty fare, +Whose praises e'en the good declare-- +On these be eighty cars bestowed, +And each with precious treasures load. +A thousand bulls for them suffice, +Two hundred elephants of price, +And let a thousand kine beside +The dainties of each meal provide. +The throng who sacred girdles wear, +And on Kausalyá wait with care-- +A thousand golden coins shall please, +Son of Sumitrá, each of these. +Let all, dear Lakshman of the train +These special gifts of honour gain: +My mother will rejoice to know +Her Bráhmans have been cherished so." + + Then Raghu's son addressed the crowd +Who round him stood and wept aloud, +When he to all who thronged the court +Had dealt his wealth for their support: +"In Lakshman's house and mine remain, +And guard them till I come again." +To all his people sad with grief, +In loving words thus spoke their chief, +Then bade his treasure-keeper bring +Gold, silver, and each precious thing. +Then straight the servants went and bore +Back to their chief the wealth in store. +Before the people's eyes it shone, +A glorious pile to look upon. +The prince of men with Lakshman's aid +Parted the treasures there displayed, +Gave to the poor, the young, the old, +And twice-born men, the gems and gold. + + A Bráhman, long in evil case, +Named Trijat, born of Garga's race, +Earned ever toiling in a wood +With spade and plough his livelihood. +The youthful wife, his babes who bore, +Their indigence felt more and more. +Thus to the aged man she spake: +"Hear this my word: my counsel take. +Come, throw thy spade and plough away; +To virtuous Ráma go to-day, +And somewhat of his kindness pray." + + He heard the words she spoke: around +His limbs his ragged cloth he wound, +And took his journey by the road +That led to Ráma's fair abode. +To the fifth court he made his way; +Nor met the Bráhman check or stay. +Brighu, Angiras(309) could not be +Brighter with saintly light than he. +To Ráma's presence on he pressed, +And thus the noble chief addressed: +"O Ráma, poor and weak am I, +And many children round me cry. +Scant living in the woods I earn: +On me thine eye of pity turn." +And Ráma, bent on sport and jest, +The suppliant Bráhman thus addressed: +"O aged man, one thousand kine, +Yet undistributed, are mine. +The cows on thee will I bestow +As far as thou thy staff canst throw." + + The Bráhman heard. In eager haste +He bound his cloth around his waist. +Then round his head his staff he whirled, +And forth with mightiest effort hurled. +Cast from his hand it flew, and sank +To earth on Sarjú's farther bank, +Where herds of kine in thousands fed +Near to the well-stocked bullock shed. +And all the cows that wandered o'er +The meadow, far as Sarjú's shore, +At Ráma's word the herdsmen drove +To Trijat's cottage in the grove. +He drew the Bráhman to his breast, +And thus with calming words addressed: +"Now be not angry, Sire. I pray: +This jest of mine was meant in play. +These thousand kine, but not alone. +Their herdsmen too, are all thine own. +And wealth beside I give thee: speak, +Thine shall be all thy heart can seek." + + Thus Ráma spake. And Trijat prayed +For means his sacrifice to aid. +And Ráma gave much wealth, required +To speed his offering as desired. + + + + +Canto XXXIII. The People's Lament. + + +Thus Sítá and the princes brave +Much wealth to all the Bráhmans gave. +Then to the monarch's house the three +Went forth the aged king to see. +The princes from two servants took +Those heavenly arms of glorious look, +Adorned with garland and with band +By Sítá's beautifying hand. +On each high house a mournful throng +Had gathered ere they passed along, +Who gazed in pure unselfish woe +From turret, roof, and portico. +So dense the crowd that blocked the ways, +The rest, unable there to gaze, +Were fain each terrace to ascend, +And thence their eyes on Ráma bend. +Then as the gathered multitude +On foot their well-loved Ráma viewed, +No royal shade to screen his head, +Such words, disturbed in grief, they said: +"O look, our hero, wont to ride +Leading a host in perfect pride-- +Now Lakshman, sole of all his friends, +With Sítá on his steps attends. +Though he has known the sweets of power, +And poured his gifts in liberal shower, +From duty's path he will not swerve, +But, still his father's truth preserve. +And she whose form so soft and fair +Was veiled from spirits of the air, +Now walks unsheltered from the day, +Seen by the crowds who throng the way. +Ah, for that gently-nurtured form! +How will it fade with sun and storm! +How will the rain, the cold, the heat +Mar fragrant breast and tinted feet! +Surely some demon has possessed +His sire, and speaks within his breast, +Or how could one that is a king +Thus send his dear son wandering? +It were a deed unkindly done +To banish e'en a worthless son: +But what, when his pure life has gained +The hearts of all, by love enchained? +Six sovereign virtues join to grace +Ráma the foremost of his race: +Tender and kind and pure is he, +Docile, religious, passion-free. +Hence misery strikes not him alone: +In bitterest grief the people moan, +Like creatures of the stream, when dry +In the great heat the channels lie. +The world is mournful with the grief +That falls on its beloved chief, +As, when the root is hewn away, +Tree, fruit, and flower, and bud decay. +The soul of duty, bright to see, +He is the root of you and me; +And all of us, who share his grief, +His branches, blossom, fruit, and leaf. +Now like the faithful Lakshman, we +Will follow and be true as he; +Our wives and kinsmen call with speed, +And hasten where our lord shall lead. +Yes, we will leave each well-loved spot, +The field, the garden, and the cot, +And, sharers of his weal and woe, +Behind the pious Ráma go. +Our houses, empty of their stores, +With ruined courts and broken doors, +With all their treasures borne away. +And gear that made them bright and gay: +O'errun by rats, with dust o'erspread, +Shrines, whence the deities have fled, +Where not a hand the water pours, +Or sweeps the long-neglected floors, +No incense loads the evening air, +No Bráhmans chant the text and prayer, +No fire of sacrifice is bright, +No gift is known, no sacred rite; +With floors which broken vessels strew, +As if our woes had crushed them too-- +Of these be stern Kaikeyí queen, +And rule o'er homes where we have been. +The wood where Ráma's feet may roam +Shall be our city and our home, +And this fair city we forsake, +Our flight a wilderness shall make. +Each serpent from his hole shall hie, +The birds and beasts from mountain fly, +Lions and elephants in fear +Shall quit the woods when we come near, +Yield the broad wilds for us to range, +And take our city in exchange. +With Ráma will we hence, content +If, where he is, our days be spent." + + Such were the varied words the crowd +Of all conditions spoke aloud. +And Ráma heard their speeches, yet +Changed not his purpose firmly set. +His father's palace soon he neared, +That like Kailása's hill appeared. +Like a wild elephant he strode +Right onward to the bright abode. +Within the palace court he stepped, +Where ordered bands their station kept, +And saw Sumantra standing near +With down-cast eye and gloomy cheer. + + + + +Canto XXXIV. Ráma In The Palace. + + +The dark incomparable chief +Whose eye was like a lotus leaf, +Cried to the mournful charioteer, +"Go tell my sire that I am here." + + Sumantra, sad and all dismayed, +The chieftain's order swift obeyed. +Within the palace doors he hied +And saw the king, who wept and sighed. +Like the great sun when wrapped in shade +Like fire by ashes overlaid, +Or like a pool with waters dried, +So lay the world's great lord and pride, +A while the wise Sumantra gazed +On him whose senses woe has dazed, +Grieving for Ráma. Near he drew +With hands upraised in reverence due. +With blessing first his king he hailed; +Then with a voice that well-nigh failed, +In trembling accents soft and low +Addressed the monarch in his woe: +"The prince of men, thy Ráma, waits +Before thee at the palace gates. +His wealth to Bráhmans he has dealt, +And all who in his home have dwelt. +Admit thy son. His friends have heard +His kind farewell and parting word, +He longs to see thee first, and then +Will seek the wilds, O King of men. +He, with each princely virtue's blaze, +Shines as the sun engirt by rays." + + The truthful King who loved to keep +The law profound as Ocean's deep, +And stainless as the dark blue sky, +Thus to Sumantra made reply: +"Go then, Sumantra, go and call +My wives and ladies one and all. +Drawn round me shall they fill the place +When I behold my Ráma's face." + + Quick to the inner rooms he sped, +And thus to all the women said, +"Come, at the summons of the king: +Come all, and make no tarrying." + + Their husband's word, by him conveyed, +Soon as they heard, the dames obeyed, +And following his guidance all +Came thronging to the regal hall. +In number half seven hundred, they, +All lovely dames, in long array, +With their bright eyes for weeping red, +To stand round Queen Kausalyá, sped. +They gathered, and the monarch viewed +One moment all the multitude, +Then to Sumantra spoke and said: +"Now let my son be hither led." + + Sumantra went. Then Ráma came, +And Lakshman, and the Maithil dame, +And, as he led them on, their guide +Straight to the monarch's presence hied. +When yet far off the father saw +His son with raised palms toward him draw, +Girt by his ladies, sick with woes, +Swift from his royal seat he rose. +With all his strength the aged man +To meet his darling Ráma ran, +But trembling, wild with dark despair, +Fell on the ground and fainted there. +And Lakshman, wont in cars to ride, +And Ráma, threw them by the side +Of the poor miserable king, +Half lifeless with his sorrow's sting. +Throughout the spacious hall up went +A thousand women's wild lament: +"Ah Ráma!" thus they wailed and wept, +And anklets tinkled as they stepped +Around his body, weeping, threw +Their loving arms the brothers two, +And then, with Sítá's gentle aid, +The king upon a couch was laid. +At length to earth's imperial lord, +When life and knowledge were restored, +Though seas of woe went o'er his head, +With suppliant hand, thus Ráma said: +"Lord of us all, great King, thou art: +Bid me farewell before we part, +To Dandak wood this day I go: +One blessing and one look bestow. +Let Lakshman my companion be, +And Sítá also follow me. +With truthful pleas I sought to bend +Their purpose; but no ear they lend. +Now cast this sorrow from thy heart, +And let us all, great King, depart. +As Brahmá sends his children, so +Let Lakshman, me, and Sítá go." + + He stood unmoved, and watched intent +Until the king should grant consent. +Upon his son his eyes he cast, +And thus the monarch spake at last: +"O Ráma, by her arts enslaved, +I gave the boons Kaikeyí craved, +Unfit to reign, by her misled: +Be ruler in thy father's stead." + + Thus by the lord of men addressed, +Ráma, of virtue's friends the best, +In lore of language duly learned, +His answer, reverent, thus returned: +"A thousand years, O King, remain +O'er this our city still to reign. +I in the woods my life will lead: +The lust of rule no more I heed. +Nine years and five I there will spend, +And when the portioned days shall end, +Will come, my vows and exile o'er, +And clasp thy feet, my King, once more." + + A captive in the snare of truth, +Weeping, distressed with woe and ruth, +Thus spake the monarch, while the queen +Kaikeyí urged him on unseen: +"Go then, O Ráma, and begin +Thy course unvext by fear and sin: +Go, my beloved son, and earn +Success, and joy, and safe return. +So fast the bonds of duty bind. +O Raghu's son, thy truthful mind, +That naught can turn thee back, or guide +Thy will so strongly fortified. +But O, a little longer stay, +Nor turn thy steps this night away, +That I one little day---alas! +One only---with my son may pass. +Me and thy mother do not slight, +But stay, my son, with me to-night; +With every dainty please thy taste, +And seek to-morrow morn the waste. +Hard is thy task, O Raghu's son, +Dire is the toil thou wilt not shun, +Far to the lonely wood to flee, +And leave thy friends for love of me. +I swear it by my truth, believe, +For thee, my son, I deeply grieve, +Misguided by the traitress dame +With hidden guile like smouldering flame. +Now, by her wicked counsel stirred, +Thou fain wouldst keep my plighted word. +No marvel that my eldest born +Would hold me true when I have sworn." + + Then Ráma having calmly heard +His wretched father speak each word, +With Lakshman standing by his side +Thus, humbly, to the King replied: +"If dainties now my taste regale, +To-morrow must those dainties fail. +This day departure I prefer +To all that wealth can minister. +O'er this fair land, no longer mine, +Which I, with all her realms, resign, +Her multitudes of men, her grain, +Her stores of wealth, let Bharat reign. +And let the promised boon which thou +Wast pleased to grant the queen ere now, +Be hers in full. Be true, O King, +Kind giver of each precious thing. +Thy spoken word I still will heed, +Obeying all thy lips decreed: +And fourteen years in woods will dwell +With those who live in glade and dell. +No hopes of power my heart can touch, +No selfish joys attract so much +As son of Raghu, to fulfil +With heart and soul my father's will. +Dismiss, dismiss thy needless woe, +Nor let those drowning torrents flow: +The Lord of Rivers in his pride +Keeps to the banks that bar his tide. +Here in thy presence I declare; +By thy good deeds, thy truth, I swear; +Nor lordship, joy, nor lands I prize; +Life, heaven, all blessings I despise. +I wish to see thee still remain +Most true, O King, and free from stain. +It must not, Sire, it must not be: +I cannot rest one hour with thee. +Then bring this sorrow to an end, +For naught my settled will can bend. +I gave a pledge that binds me too, +And to that pledge I still am true. +Kaikeyí bade me speed away: +She prayed me, and I answered yea. +Pine not for me, and weep no more; +The wood for us has joy in store, +Filled with the wild deer's peaceful herds +And voices of a thousand birds. +A father is the God of each, +Yea, e'en of Gods, so Scriptures teach: +And I will keep my sire's decree, +For as a God I honour thee. +O best of men, the time is nigh, +The fourteen years will soon pass by +And to thine eyes thy son restore: +Be comforted, and weep no more. +Thou with thy firmness shouldst support +These weeping crowds who throng the court; +Then why, O chief of high renown, +So troubled, and thy soul cast down?" + + + + +Canto XXXV. Kaikeyí Reproached. + + +Wild with the rage he could not calm, +Sumantra, grinding palm on palm, +His head in quick impatience shook, +And sighed with woe he could not brook. +He gnashed his teeth, his eyes were red, +From his changed face the colour fled. +In rage and grief that knew no law, +The temper of the king he saw. +With his word-arrows swift and keen +He shook the bosom of the queen. +With scorn, as though its lightning stroke +Would blast her body, thus he spoke: +"Thou, who, of no dread sin afraid, +Hast Dasaratha's self betrayed, +Lord of the world, whose might sustains +Each thing that moves or fixed remains, +What direr crime is left thee now? +Death to thy lord and house art thou, +Whose cruel deeds the king distress, +Mahendra's peer in mightiness, +Firm as the mountain's rooted steep, +Enduring as the Ocean's deep. +Despise not Dasaratha, he +Is a kind lord and friend to thee. +A loving wife in worth outruns +The mother of ten million sons. +Kings, when their sires have passed away, +Succeed by birthright to the sway. +Ikshváku's son still rules the state, +Yet thou this rule wouldst violate. +Yea, let thy son, Kaikeyí, reign, +Let Bharat rule his sire's domain. +Thy will, O Queen, shall none oppose: +We all will go where Ráma goes. +No Bráhman, scorning thee, will rest +Within the realm thou governest, +But all will fly indignant hence: +So great thy trespass and offence. +I marvel, when thy crime I see, +Earth yawns not quick to swallow thee; +And that the Bráhman saints prepare +No burning scourge thy soul to scare, +With cries of shame to smite thee, bent +Upon our Ráma's banishment. +The Mango tree with axes fell, +And tend instead the Neem tree well, +Still watered with all care the tree +Will never sweet and pleasant be. +Thy mother's faults to thee descend, +And with thy borrowed nature blend. +True is the ancient saw: the Neem +Can ne'er distil a honeyed stream. +Taught by the tale of long ago +Thy mother's hateful sin we know. +A bounteous saint, as all have heard, +A boon upon thy sire conferred, +And all the eloquence revealed +That fills the wood, the flood, the field. +No creature walked, or swam, or flew, +But he its varied language knew. +One morn upon his couch he heard +The chattering of a gorgeous bird. +And as he marked its close intent +He laughed aloud in merriment. +Thy mother furious with her lord, +And fain to perish by the cord, +Said to her husband: "I would know, +O Monarch, why thou laughest so." +The king in answer spake again: +"If I this laughter should explain, +This very hour would be my last, +For death, be sure would follow fast." +Again thy mother, flushed with ire, +To Kekaya spake, thy royal sire: +"Tell me the cause; then live or die: +I will not brook thy laugh, not I." +Thus by his darling wife addressed, +The king whose might all earth confessed, +To that kind saint his story told +Who gave the wondrous gift of old. +He listened to the king's complaint, +And thus in answer spoke the saint: +"King, let her quit thy home or die, +But never with her prayer comply." +The saint's reply his trouble stilled, +And all his heart with pleasure filled. +Thy mother from his home he sent, +And days like Lord Kuvera's spent. +So thou wouldst force the king, misled +By thee, in evil paths to tread, +And bent on evil wouldst begin, +Through folly, this career of sin. +Most true, methinks, in thee is shown +The ancient saw so widely known: +The sons their fathers' worth declare +And girls their mothers' nature share. +So be not thou. For pity's sake +Accept the word the monarch spake. +Thy husband's will, O Queen, obey, +And be the people's hope and stay, +O, do not, urged by folly, draw +The king to tread on duty's law. +The lord who all the world sustains, +Bright as the God o'er Gods who reigns. +Our glorious king, by sin unstained, +Will never grant what fraud obtained; +No shade of fault in him is seen: +Let Ráma be anointed, Queen. +Remember, Queen, undying shame +Will through the world pursue thy name, +If Ráma leave the king his sire, +And, banished, to the wood retire. +Come, from thy breast this fever fling: +Of his own realm be Ráma king. +None in this city e'er can dwell +To tend and love thee half so well. +When Ráma sits in royal place, +True to the custom of his race +Our monarch of the mighty bow +A hermit to the woods will go."(310) + + Sumantra thus, palm joined to palm, +Poured forth his words of bane and balm, +With keen reproach, with pleading kind, +Striving to move Kaikeyí's mind. +In vain he prayed, in vain reproved, +She heard unsoftened and unmoved. +Nor could the eyes that watched her view +One yielding look, one change of hue. + + + + +Canto XXXVI. Siddhárth's Speech. + + +Ikshváku's son with anguish torn +For the great oath his lips had sworn, +With tears and sighs of sharpest pain +Thus to Sumantra spake again: +"Prepare thou quick a perfect force, +Cars, elephants, and foot, and horse, +To follow Raghu's scion hence +Equipped with all magnificence. +Let traders with the wealth they sell, +And those who charming stories tell, +And dancing-women fair of face, +The prince's ample chariots grace. +On all the train who throng his courts, +And those who share his manly sports, +Great gifts of precious wealth bestow, +And bid them with their master go. +Let noble arms, and many a wain, +And townsmen swell the prince's train; +And hunters best for woodland skill +Their places in the concourse fill. +While elephants and deer he slays, +Drinking wood honey as he strays, +And looks on streams each fairer yet, +His kingdom he may chance forget. +Let all my gold and wealth of corn +With Ráma to the wilds be borne; +For it will soothe the exile's lot +To sacrifice in each pure spot, +Deal ample largess forth, and meet +Each hermit in his calm retreat. +The wealth shall Ráma with him bear, +Ayodhyá shall be Bharat's share." + + As thus Kakutstha's offspring spoke, +Fear in Kaikeyí's breast awoke. +The freshness of her face was dried, +Her trembling tongue was terror-tied. +Alarmed and sad, with bloodless cheek, +She turned to him and scarce could speak: +"Nay, Sire, but Bharat shall not gain +An empty realm where none remain. +My Bharat shall not rule a waste +Reft of all sweets to charm the taste-- +The wine-cup's dregs, all dull and dead, +Whence the light foam and life are fled." + + Thus in her rage the long-eyed dame +Spoke her dire speech untouched by shame. +Then, answering, Dasaratha spoke: +"Why, having bowed me to the yoke, +Dost thou, must cruel, spur and goad +Me who am struggling with the load? +Why didst thou not oppose at first +This hope, vile Queen, so fondly nursed?" + + Scarce could the monarch's angry speech +The ears of the fair lady reach, +When thus, with double wrath inflamed, +Kaikeyí to the king exclaimed: + + "Sagar, from whom thy line is traced, +Drove forth his eldest son disgraced, +Called Asamanj, whose fate we know: +Thus should thy son to exile go." + + "Fie on thee, dame!" the monarch said; +Each of her people bent his head, +And stood in shame and sorrow mute: +She marked not, bold and resolute. +Then great Siddhárth, inflamed with rage, +The good old councillor and sage +On whose wise rede the king relied, +To Queen Kaikeyí thus replied: +"But Asamanj the cruel laid +His hands on infants as they played, +Cast them to Sarjú's flood, and smiled +For pleasure when he drowned a child."(311) +The people saw, and, furious, sped +Straight the the king his sire and said: +"Choose us, O glory of the throne, +Choose us, or Asamanj alone." +"Whence comes this dread?" the monarch cried; +And all the people thus replied: +"In folly, King, he loves to lay +Fierce hands upon our babes at play, +Casts them to Sarjú's flood and joys +To murder our bewildered boys." +With heedful ear the king of men +Heard each complaining citizen. +To please their troubled minds he strove, +And from the state his son he drove. +With wife and gear upon a car +He placed him quick, and sent him far. +And thus he gave commandment, "He +Shall all his days an exile be." +With basket and with plough he strayed +O'er mountain heights, through pathless shade, +Roaming all lands a weary time, +An outcast wretch defiled with crime. +Sagar, the righteous path who held, +His wicked offspring thus expelled. +But what has Ráma done to blame? +Why should his sentence be the same? +No sin his stainless name can dim; +We see no fault at all in him. +Pure as the moon, no darkening blot +On his sweet life has left a spot. +If thou canst see one fault, e'en one, +To dim the fame of Raghu's son, +That fault this hour, O lady, show, +And Ráma to the wood shall go. +To drive the guiltless to the wild, +Truth's constant lover, undefiled, +Would, by defiance of the right, +The glory e'en of Indra blight. +Then cease, O lady, and dismiss +Thy hope to ruin Ráma's bliss, +Or all thy gain, O fair of face, +Will be men's hatred, and disgrace." + + + + +Canto XXXVII. The Coats Of Bark. + + +Thus spake the virtuous sage: and then +Ráma addressed the king of men. +In laws of meek behaviour bred, +Thus to his sire he meekly said: + + "King, I renounce all earthly care, +And live in woods on woodland fare. +What, dead to joys, have I to do +With lordly train and retinue! +Who gives his elephant and yet +Upon the girths his heart will set? +How can a cord attract his eyes +Who gives away the nobler prize? +Best of the good, with me be led +No host, my King with banners spread. +All wealth, all lordship I resign: +The hermit's dress alone be mine. +Before I go, have here conveyed +A little basket and a spade. +With these alone I go, content, +For fourteen years of banishment." + + With her own hands Kaikeyí took +The hermit coats of bark, and, "Look," +She cried with bold unblushing brow +Before the concourse, "Dress thee now." +That lion leader of the brave +Took from her hand the dress she gave, +Cast his fine raiment on the ground, +And round his waist the vesture bound. +Then quick the hero Lakshman too +His garment from his shoulders threw, +And, in the presence of his sire, +Indued the ascetic's rough attire. +But Sítá, in her silks arrayed, +Threw glances, trembling and afraid, +On the bark coat she had to wear, +Like a shy doe that eyes the snare. +Ashamed and weeping for distress +From the queen's hand she took the dress. +The fair one, by her husband's side +Who matched heaven's minstrel monarch,(312) cried: +"How bind they on their woodland dress, +Those hermits of the wilderness?" + + There stood the pride of Janak's race +Perplexed, with sad appealing face. +One coat the lady's fingers grasped, +One round her neck she feebly clasped, +But failed again, again, confused +By the wild garb she ne'er had used. +Then quickly hastening Ráma, pride +Of all who cherish virtue, tied +The rough bark mantle on her, o'er +The silken raiment that she wore. + + Then the sad women when they saw +Ráma the choice bark round her draw, +Rained water from each tender eye, +And cried aloud with bitter cry: +"O, not on her, beloved, not +On Sítá falls thy mournful lot. +If, faithful to thy father's will, +Thou must go forth, leave Sítá still. +Let Sítá still remaining here +Our hearts with her loved presence cheer. +With Lakshman by thy side to aid +Seek thou, dear son, the lonely shade. +Unmeet, one good and fair as she +Should dwell in woods a devotee. +Let not our prayers be prayed in vain: +Let beauteous Sítá yet remain; +For by thy love of duty tied +Thou wilt not here thyself abide." + + Then the king's venerable guide +Vasishtha, when he saw each coat +Enclose the lady's waist and throat, +Her zeal with gentle words repressed, +And Queen Kaikeyí thus addressed: +"O evil-hearted sinner, shame +Of royal Kekaya's race and name; +Who matchless in thy sin couldst cheat +Thy lord the king with vile deceit; +Lost to all sense of duty, know +Sítá to exile shall not go. +Sítá shall guard, as 'twere her own, +The precious trust of Ráma's throne. +Those joined by wedlock's sweet control +Have but one self and common soul. +Thus Sítá shall our empress be, +For Ráma's self and soul is she. +Or if she still to Ráma cleave +And for the woods the kingdom leave: +If naught her loving heart deter, +We and this town will follow her. +The warders of the queen shall take +Their wives and go for Ráma's sake, +The nation with its stores of grain, +The city's wealth shall swell his train. +Bharat, Satrughna both will wear +Bark mantles, and his lodging share, +Still with their elder brother dwell +In the wild wood, and serve him well. +Rest here alone, and rule thy state +Unpeopled, barren, desolate; +Be empress of the land and trees, +Thou sinner whom our sorrows please. +The land which Ráma reigns not o'er +Shall bear the kingdom's name no more: +The woods which Ráma wanders through +Shall be our home and kingdom too. +Bharat, be sure, will never deign +O'er realms his father yields, to reign. +Nay, if the king's true son he be, +He will not, sonlike, dwell with thee. +Nay, shouldst thou from the earth arise, +And send thy message from the skies, +To his forefathers' custom true +No erring course would he pursue. +So hast thou, by thy grievous fault, +Offended him thou wouldst exalt. +In all the world none draws his breath +Who loves not Ráma, true to death. +This day, O Queen, shalt thou behold +Birds, deer, and beasts from lea and fold +Turn to the woods in Ráma's train. +And naught save longing trees remain." + + + + +Canto XXXVIII. Care For Kausalyá + + +Then when the people wroth and sad +Saw Sítá in bark vesture clad, +Though wedded, like some widowed thing, +They cried out, "Shame upon thee, King!" +Grieved by their cry and angry look +The lord of earth at once forsook +All hope in life that still remained, +In duty, self, and fame unstained. +Ikshváku's son with burning sighs +On Queen Kaikeyí bent his eyes, +And said: "But Sítá must not flee +In garments of a devotee. +My holy guide has spoken truth: +Unfit is she in tender youth, +So gently nurtured, soft and fair, +The hardships of the wood to share. +How has she sinned, devout and true, + The noblest monarch's child, + That she should garb of bark indue + And journey to the wild? + That she should spend her youthful days + Amid a hermit band, + Like some poor mendicant who strays + Sore troubled, through the land? + Ah, let the child of Janak throw + Her dress of bark aside, + And let the royal lady go + With royal wealth supplied. + Not such the pledge I gave before, + Unfit to linger here: + The oath, which I the sinner swore + Is kept, and leaves her clear. + Won from her childlike love this too + My instant death would be, + As blossoms on the old bamboo + Destroy the parent tree.(313) +If aught amiss by Ráma done +Offend thee, O thou wicked one, +What least transgression canst thou find +In her, thou worst of womankind? +What shade of fault in her appears, +Whose full soft eye is like the deer's? +What canst thou blame in Janak's child, +So gentle, modest, true, and mild? +Is not one crime complete, that sent +My Ráma forth to banishment? +And wilt thou other sins commit, +Thou wicked one, to double it? +This is the pledge and oath I swore, +What thou besoughtest, and no more, +Of Ráma--for I heard thee, dame-- +When he for consecration came. +Now with this limit not content, +In hell should be thy punishment, +Who fain the Maithil bride wouldst press +To clothe her limbs with hermit dress." + + Thus spake the father in his woe; +And Ráma, still prepared to go, +To him who sat with drooping head +Spake in return these words and said: + + "Just King, here stands my mother dear, +Kausalyá, one whom all revere. +Submissive, gentle, old is she, +And keeps her lips from blame of thee, +For her, kind lord, of me bereft +A sea of whelming woe is left. +O, show her in her new distress +Still fonder love and tenderness. +Well honoured by thine honoured hand +Her grief for me let her withstand, +Who wrapt in constant thought of me +In me would live a devotee. +Peer of Mahendra, O, to her be kind, +And treat I pray, my gentle mother so, +That, when I dwell afar, her life resigned, +She may not pass to Yáma's realm for woe." + + + + +Canto XXXIX. Counsel To Sítá. + + +Scarce had the sire, with each dear queen, +Heard Ráma's pleading voice, and seen +His darling in his hermit dress +Ere failed his senses for distress. +Convulsed with woe, his soul that shook, +On Raghu's son he could not look; +Or if he looked with failing eye +He could not to the chief reply. +By pangs of bitter grief assailed, +The long-armed monarch wept and wailed, +Half dead a while and sore distraught, +While Ráma filled his every thought. +"This hand of mine in days ere now +Has reft her young from many a cow, +Or living things has idly slain: +Hence comes, I ween, this hour of pain. +Not till the hour is come to die +Can from its shell the spirit fly. +Death comes not, and Kaikeyí still +Torments the wretch she cannot kill, +Who sees his son before him quit +The fine soft robes his rank that fit, +And, glorious as the burning fire, +In hermit garb his limbs attire. +Now all the people grieve and groan +Through Queen Kaikeyí's deed alone, +Who, having dared this deed of sin, +Strives for herself the gain to win." + + He spoke. With tears his eyes grew dim, +His senses all deserted him. +He cried, O Ráma, once, then weak +And fainting could no further speak. +Unconscious there he lay: at length +Regathering his sense and strength, +While his full eyes their torrents shed, +To wise Sumantra thus he said: +"Yoke the light car, and hither lead +Fleet coursers of the noblest breed, +And drive this heir of lofty fate +Beyond the limit of the state. +This seems the fruit that virtues bear, +The meed of worth which texts declare-- +The sending of the brave and good +By sire and mother to the wood.'" + + He heard the monarch, and obeyed, +With ready feet that ne'er delayed, +And brought before the palace gate +The horses and the car of state. +Then to the monarch's son he sped, +And raising hands of reverence said +That the light car which gold made fair, +With best of steeds, was standing there. +King Dasaratha called in haste +The lord o'er all his treasures placed. +And spoke, well skilled in place and time, +His will to him devoid of crime: +"Count all the years she has to live +Afar in forest wilds, and give +To Sítá robes and gems of price +As for the time may well suffice." +Quick to the treasure-room he went, +Charged by that king most excellent, +Brought the rich stores, and gave them all +To Sítá in the monarch's hall. +The Maithil dame of high descent +Received each robe and ornament, +And tricked those limbs, whose lines foretold +High destiny, with gems and gold. +So well adorned, so fair to view, +A glory through the hall she threw: +So, when the Lord of Light upsprings, +His radiance o'er the sky he flings. +Then Queen Kausalyá spake at last, +With loving arms about her cast, +Pressed lingering kisses on her head, +And to the high-souled lady said: +"Ah, in this faithless world below +When dark misfortune comes and woe, +Wives, loved and cherished every day, +Neglect their lords and disobey. +Yes, woman's nature still is this:-- +After long days of calm and bliss +When some light grief her spirit tries, +She changes all her love, or flies. +Young wives are thankless, false in soul, +With roving hearts that spurn control. +Brooding on sin and quickly changed, +In one short hour their love estranged. +Not glorious deed or lineage fair, +Not knowledge, gift, or tender care +In chains of lasting love can bind +A woman's light inconstant mind. +But those good dames who still maintain +What right, truth, Scripture, rule ordain-- +No holy thing in their pure eyes +With one beloved husband vies. +Nor let thy lord my son, condemned +To exile, be by thee contemned, +For be he poor or wealthy, he +Is as a God, dear child, to thee." + + When Sítá heard Kausalyá's speech +Her duty and her gain to teach, +She joined her palms with reverent grace +And gave her answer face to face: +"All will I do, forgetting naught, +Which thou, O honoured Queen, hast taught. +I know, have heard, and deep have stored +The rules of duty to my lord. +Not me, good Queen, shouldst thou include +Among the faithless multitude. +Its own sweet light the moon shall leave +Ere I to duty cease to cleave. +The stringless lute gives forth no strain, +The wheelless car is urged in vain; +No joy a lordless dame, although +Blest with a hundred sons, can know. +From father, brother, and from son +A measured share of joy is won: +Who would not honour, love, and bless +Her lord, whose gifts are measureless? +Thus trained to think, I hold in awe +Scripture's command and duty's law. +Him can I hold in slight esteem? +Her lord is woman's God, I deem." +Kausalyá heard the lady's speech, +Nor failed those words her heart to reach. +Then, pure in mind, she gave to flow +The tear that sprang of joy and woe. +Then duteous Ráma forward came +And stood before the honoured dame, +And joining reverent hands addressed +The queen in rank above the rest: +"O mother, from these tears refrain; +Look on my sire and still thy pain. +To thee my days afar shall fly +As if sweet slumber closed thine eye, +And fourteen years of exile seem +To thee, dear mother, like a dream. +On me returning safe and well, +Girt by my friends, thine eyes shall dwell." + + Thus for their deep affection's sake +The hero to his mother spake, +Then to the half seven hundred too, +Wives of his sire, paid reverence due. +Thus Dasaratha's son addressed +That crowd of matrons sore distressed: +"If from these lips, while here I dwelt, +One heedless taunt you e'er have felt, +Forgive me, pray. And now adieu, +I bid good-bye to all of you." +Then straight, like curlews' cries, upwent +The voices of their wild lament, +While, as he bade farewell, the crowd +Of royal women wept aloud, +And through the ample hall's extent. +Where erst the sound of tabour, blent +With drum and shrill-toned instrument, + In joyous concert rose, +Now rang the sound of wailing high, +The lamentation and the cry, +The shriek, the choking sob, the sigh + That told the ladies' woes. + + + + +Canto XL. Ráma's Departure. + + +Then Ráma, Sítá, Lakshman bent +At the king's feet, and sadly went +Round him with slow steps reverent. +When Ráma of the duteous heart +Had gained his sire's consent to part, +With Sítá by his side he paid +Due reverence to the queen dismayed. +And Lakshman, with affection meet, +Bowed down and clasped his mother's feet. +Sumitrá viewed him as he pressed +Her feet, and thus her son addressed: +"Neglect not Ráma wandering there, +But tend him with thy faithful care. +In hours of wealth, in time of woe, +Him, sinless son, thy refuge know. +From this good law the just ne'er swerve, +That younger sons the eldest serve, +And to this righteous rule incline +All children of thine ancient line-- +Freely to give, reward each rite, +Nor spare their bodies in the fight. +Let Ráma Dasaratha be, +Look upon Sítá as on me, +And let the cot wherein you dwell +Be thine Ayodhyá. Fare thee well." +Her blessing thus Sumitrá gave +To him whose soul to Ráma clave, +Exclaiming, when her speech was done, +"Go forth, O Lakshman, go, my son. +Go forth, my son to win success, +High victory and happiness. +Go forth thy foemen to destroy, +And turn again at last with joy." + + As Mátali his charioteer +Speaks for the Lord of Gods to hear, +Sumantra, palm to palm applied, +In reverence trained, to Ráma cried: +"O famous Prince, my car ascend,-- +May blessings on thy course attend,-- +And swiftly shall my horses flee +And place thee where thou biddest me. +The fourteen years thou hast to stay +Far in the wilds, begin to-day; +For Oueen Kaikeyí cries, Away." + + Then Sítá, best of womankind, +Ascended, with a tranquil mind, +Soon as her toilet task was done, +That chariot brilliant as the sun. +Ráma and Lakshman true and bold +Sprang on the car adorned with gold. +The king those years had counted o'er, +And given Sítá robes and store +Of precious ornaments to wear +When following her husband there. +The brothers in the car found place +For nets and weapons of the chase, +There warlike arms and mail they laid, +A leathern basket and a spade. +Soon as Sumantra saw the three +Were seated in the chariot, he +Urged on each horse of noble breed, +Who matched the rushing wind in speed. +As thus the son of Raghu went +Forth for his dreary banishment, +Chill numbing grief the town assailed, +All strength grew weak, all spirit failed, +Ayodhyá through her wide extent +Was filled with tumult and lament: +Steeds neighed and shook the bells they bore, +Each elephant returned a roar. +Then all the city, young and old, +Wild with their sorrow uncontrolled, +Rushed to the car, as, from the sun +The panting herds to water run. +Before the car, behind, they clung, +And there as eagerly they hung, +With torrents streaming from their eyes, +Called loudly with repeated cries: +"Listen, Sumantra: draw thy rein; +Drive gently, and thy steeds restrain. +Once more on Ráma will we gaze, +Now to be lost for many days. +The queen his mother has, be sure, +A heart of iron, to endure +To see her godlike Ráma go, +Nor feel it shattered by the blow. +Sítá, well done! Videha's pride, +Still like his shadow by his side; +Rejoicing in thy duty still +As sunlight cleaves to Meru's hill. +Thou, Lakshman, too, hast well deserved, +Who from thy duty hast not swerved, +Tending the peer of Gods above, +Whose lips speak naught but words of love. +Thy firm resolve is nobly great, +And high success on thee shall wait. +Yea, thou shalt win a priceless meed-- +Thy path with him to heaven shall lead." +As thus they spake, they could not hold +The tears that down their faces rolled, +While still they followed for a space +Their darling of Ikshváku's race. + + There stood surrounded by a ring +Of mournful wives the mournful king; +For, "I will see once more," he cried, +"Mine own dear son," and forth he hied. +As he came near, there rose the sound +Of weeping, as the dames stood round. +So the she-elephants complain +When their great lord and guide is slain. +Kakutstha's son, the king of men, +The glorious sire, looked troubled then, +As the full moon is when dismayed +By dark eclipse's threatening shade. +Then Dasaratha's son, designed +For highest fate of lofty mind, +Urged to more speed the charioteer, +"Away, away! why linger here? +Urge on thy horses," Rama cried, +And "Stay, O stay," the people sighed. +Sumantra, urged to speed away, +The townsmen's call must disobey, +Forth as the long-armed hero went, +The dust his chariot wheels up sent +Was laid by streams that ever flowed +From their sad eyes who filled the road. +Then, sprung of woe, from eyes of all +The women drops began to fall, +As from each lotus on the lake +The darting fish the water shake. +When he, the king of high renown, +Saw that one thought held all the town, +Like some tall tree he fell and lay, +Whose root the axe has hewn away. +Then straight a mighty cry from those +Who followed Ráma's car arose, +Who saw their monarch fainting there +Beneath that grief too great to bear. +Then "Ráma, Ráma!" with the cry +Of "Ah, his mother!" sounded high, +As all the people wept aloud +Around the ladies' sorrowing crowd. +When Ráma backward turned his eye, +And saw the king his father lie +With troubled sense and failing limb, +And the sad queen, who followed him, +Like some young creature in the net, +That will not, in its misery, let +Its wild eyes on its mother rest, +So, by the bonds of duty pressed, +His mother's look he could not meet. +He saw them with their weary feet, +Who, used to bliss, in cars should ride, +Who ne'er by sorrow should be tried, +And, as one mournful look he cast, +"Drive on," he cried, "Sumantra, fast." +As when the driver's torturing hook +Goads on an elephant, the look +Of sire and mother in despair +Was more than Ráma's heart could bear. +As mother kine to stalls return +Which hold the calves for whom they yearn, +So to the car she tried to run +As a cow seeks her little one. +Once and again the hero's eyes +Looked on his mother, as with cries +Of woe she called and gestures wild, +"O Sítá, Lakshman, O my child!" +"Stay," cried the king, "thy chariot stay:" +"On, on," cried Ráma, "speed away." +As one between two hosts, inclined +To neither was Sumantra's mind. +But Ráma spake these words again: +"A lengthened woe is bitterest pain. +On, on; and if his wrath grow hot, +Thine answer be, 'I heard thee not.' " +Sumantra, at the chief's behest, +Dismissed the crowd that toward him pressed, +And, as he bade, to swiftest speed +Urged on his way each willing steed. +The king's attendants parted thence, +And paid him heart-felt reverence: +In mind, and with the tears he wept, +Each still his place near Ráma kept. +As swift away the horses sped, +His lords to Dasaratha said: +"To follow him whom thou again +Wouldst see returning home is vain." + With failing limb and drooping mien + He heard their counsel wise: + Still on their son the king and queen + Kept fast their lingering eyes.(314) + + + + +Canto XLI. The Citizens' Lament. + + +The lion chief with hands upraised +Was born from eyes that fondly gazed. +But then the ladies' bower was rent +With cries of weeping and lament: +"Where goes he now, our lord, the sure +Protector of the friendless poor, +In whom the wretched and the weak +Defence and aid were wont to seek? +All words of wrath he turned aside, +And ne'er, when cursed, in ire replied. +He shared his people's woe, and stilled +The troubled breast which rage had filled. +Our chief, on lofty thoughts intent, +In glorious fame preëminent: +As on his own dear mother, thus +He ever looked on each of us. +Where goes he now? His sire's behest, +By Queen Kaikeyí's guile distressed, +Has banished to the forest hence +Him who was all the world's defence. +Ah, senseless King, to drive away +The hope of men, their guard and stay, +To banish to the distant wood +Ráma the duteous, true, and good!" +The royal dames, like cows bereaved +Of their young calves, thus sadly grieved. +The monarch heard them as they wailed, +And by the fire of grief assailed +For his dear son, he bowed his head, +And all his sense and memory fled. + + Then were no fires of worship fed, +Thick darkness o'er the sun was spread. +The cows their thirsty calves denied, +And elephants flung their food aside. +Trisanku,(315) Jupiter looked dread, +And Mercury and Mars the red, +In direful opposition met, +The glory of the moon beset. +The lunar stars withheld their light, +The planets were no longer bright, +But meteors with their horrid glare, +And dire Visákhás(316) lit the air. +As troubled Ocean heaves and raves +When Doom's wild tempest sweeps the waves, +Thus all Ayodhyá reeled and bent +When Ráma to the forest went. +And chilling grief and dark despair +Fell suddenly on all men there. +Their wonted pastime all forgot, +Nor thought of food, or touched it not. +Crowds in the royal street were seen +With weeping eye and troubled mien: +No more a people gay and glad, +Each head and heart was sick and sad. +No more the cool wind softly blew, +The moon no more was fair to view, +No more the sun with genial glow +Cherished the world now plunged in woe. +Sons, brothers, husbands, wedded wives +Forgot the ties that joined their lives; +No thought for kith and kin was spared, +But all for only Ráma cared. +And Ráma's friends who loved him best, +Their minds disordered and distressed. +By the great burthen of their woes +Turned not to slumber or repose. +Like Earth with all her hills bereft + Of Indra's guiding care. + Ayodhyá in her sorrow left + By him, the high souled heir, + Was bowed by fear and sorrow's force, + And shook with many a throe, + While warrior, elephant, and horse + Sent up the cry of woe. + + + + +Canto XLII. Dasaratha's Lament. + + +While yet the dust was seen afar +That marked the course of Ráma's car, +The glory of Ikshváku's race +Turned not away his eager face. +While yet his duteous son he saw +He could not once his gaze withdraw, +But rooted to the spot remained +With eyes that after Ráma strained. +But when that dust no more he viewed, +Fainting he fell by grief subdued. +To his right hand Kausalyá went, +And ready aid the lady lent, +While Bharat's loving mother tried +To raise him on the other side. +The king, within whose ordered soul +Justice and virtue held control, +To Queen Kaikeyí turned and said, +With every sense disquieted: +"Touch me not, thou whose soul can plot +All sin. Kaikeyí, touch me not. +No loving wife, no friend to me, +I ne'er again would look on thee; +Ne'er from this day have aught to do +With thee and all thy retinue; +Thee whom no virtuous thoughts restrain, +Whose selfish heart seeks only gain. +The hand I laid in mine, O dame, +The steps we took around the flame,(317) +And all that links thy life to mine +Here and hereafter I resign. +If Bharat too, thy darling son, +Joy in the rule thy art has won, +Ne'er may the funeral offerings paid +By his false hand approach my shade." + + Then while the dust upon him hung, +The monarch to Kausalyá clung, +And she with mournful steps and slow +Turned to the palace, worn with woe. +As one whose hand has touched the fire, +Or slain a Bráhman in his ire, +He felt his heart with sorrow torn +Still thinking of his son forlorn. +Each step was torture, as the road +The traces of the chariot showed, +And as the shadowed sun grows dim +So care and anguish darkened him. +He raised a cry, by woe distraught, +As of his son again he thought. +And judging that the car had sped +Beyond the city, thus he said: +"I still behold the foot-prints made +By the good horses that conveyed +My son afar: these marks I see, +But high-souled Ráma, where is he? +Ah me, my son! my first and best, +On pleasant couches wont to rest, +With limbs perfumed with sandal, fanned +By many a beauty's tender hand: +Where will he lie with log or stone +Beneath him for a pillow thrown, +To leave at morn his earthy bed, +Neglected, and with dust o'erspread, +As from the flood with sigh and pant +Comes forth the husband elephant? +The men who make the woods their home +Shall see the long-armed hero roam +Roused from his bed, though lord of all, +In semblance of a friendless thrall. +Janak's dear child who ne'er has met +With aught save joy and comfort yet, +Will reach to-day the forest, worn +And wearied with the brakes of thorn. +Ah, gentle girl, of woods unskilled, +How will her heart with dread be filled +At the wild beasts' deep roaring there, +Whose voices lift the shuddering hair! +Kaikeyí, glory in thy gain, +And, widow queen, begin to reign: +No will, no power to live have I +When my brave son no more is nigh." + + Thus pouring forth laments, the king +Girt by the people's crowded ring, +Entered the noble bower like one +New-bathed when funeral rites are done. +Where'er he looked naught met his gaze +But empty houses, courts, and ways. +Closed were the temples: countless feet +No longer trod the royal street, +And thinking of his son he viewed +Men weak and worn and woe-subdued. +As sinks the sun into a cloud, +So passed he on, and wept aloud, +Within that house no more to be +The dwelling of the banished three, +Brave Ráma, his Vedehan bride, +And Lakshman by his brother's side: +Like broad still waters, when the king +Of all the birds that ply the wing +Has swooped from heaven and borne away +The glittering snakes that made them gay. +With choking sobs and voice half spent +The king renewed his sad lament: +With broken utterance faint and low +Scarce could he speak these words of woe: +"My steps to Ráma's mother guide, +And place me by Kausalyá's side: +There, only there my heart may know +Some little respite from my woe." + + The warders of the palace led +The monarch, when his words were said, +To Queen Kausalyá's bower, and there +Laid him with reverential care. +But while he rested on the bed +Still was his soul disquieted. +In grief he tossed his arms on high +Lamenting with a piteous cry: +"O Ráma, Ráma," thus said he, +"My son, thou hast forsaken me. +High bliss awaits those favoured men +Left living in Ayodhyá then, +Whose eyes shall see my son once more +Returning when the time is o'er." +Then came the night, whose hated gloom +Fell on him like the night of doom. +At midnight Dasaratha cried +To Queen Kausalyá by his side: +"I see thee not, Kausalyá; lay +Thy gentle hand in mine, I pray. +When Ráma left his home my sight +Went with him, nor returns to-night." + + + + +Canto XLIII. Kausalyá's Lament. + + +Kausalyá saw the monarch lie +With drooping frame and failing eye, +And for her banished son distressed +With these sad words her lord addressed: +"Kaikeyí, cruel, false, and vile +Has cast the venom of her guile +On Ráma lord of men, and she +Will ravage like a snake set free; +And more and more my soul alarm, +Like a dire serpent bent on harm, +For triumph crowns each dark intent, +And Ráma to the wild is sent. +Ah, were he doomed but here to stray +Begging his food from day to day, +Or do, enslaved, Kaikeyí's will, +This were a boon, a comfort still. +But she, as chose her cruel hate, +Has hurled him from his high estate, +As Bráhmans when the moon is new +Cast to the ground the demons' due.(318) +The long-armed hero, like the lord +Of Nágas, with his bow and sword +Begins, I ween, his forest life +With Lakshman and his faithful wife. +Ah, how will fare the exiles now, +Whom, moved by Queen Kaikeyí, thou +Hast sent in forests to abide, +Bred in delights, by woe untried? +Far banished when their lives are young, +With the fair fruit before them hung, +Deprived of all their rank that suits, +How will they live on grain and roots? +O, that my years of woe were passed, +And the glad hour were come at last +When I shall see my children dear, +Ráma, his wife, and Lakshman here! +When shall Ayodhyá, wild with glee, +Again those mighty heroes see, +And decked with wreaths her banners wave +To welcome home the true and brave? +When will the beautiful city view +With happy eyes the lordly two +Returning, joyful as the main +When the dear moon is full again? +When, like some mighty bull who leads +The cow exulting through the meads, +Will Ráma through the city ride, +Strong-armed, with Sítá at his side? +When will ten thousand thousand meet +And crowd Ayodhyá's royal street, +And grain in joyous welcome throw +Upon my sons who tame the foe? +When with delight shall youthful bands +Of Bráhman maidens in their hands +Bear fruit and flowers in goodly show, +And circling round Ayodhyá go? +With ripened judgment of a sage, +And godlike in his blooming age, +When shall my virtuous son appear, +Like kindly rain, our hearts to cheer? +Ah, in a former life, I ween, +This hand of mine, most base and mean, +Has dried the udders of the kine +And left the thirsty calves to pine. +Hence, as the lion robs the cow, +Kaikeyí makes me childless now, +Exulting from her feebler foe +To rend the son she cherished so. +I had but him, in Scripture skilled, +With every grace his soul was filled. +Now not a joy has life to give, +And robbed of him I would not live: +Yea, all my days are dark and drear +If he, my darling, be not near, +And Lakshman brave, my heart to cheer. +As for my son I mourn and yearn, +The quenchless flames of anguish burn + And kill me with the pain, +As in the summer's noontide blaze +The glorious Day-God with his rays + Consumes the parching plain." + + + + +Canto XLIV. Sumitrá's Speech. + + +Kausalyá ceased her sad lament, +Of beauteous dames most excellent. +Sumitrá who to duty clave, +In righteous words this answer gave: +"Dear Queen, all noble virtues grace +Thy son, of men the first in place. +Why dost thou shed these tears of woe +With bitter grief lamenting so? +If Ráma, leaving royal sway +Has hastened to the woods away, +'Tis for his high-souled father's sake +That he his premise may not break. +He to the path of duty clings +Which lordly fruit hereafter brings-- +The path to which the righteous cleave-- +For him, dear Queen, thou shouldst not grieve. +And Lakshman too, the blameless-souled, +The same high course with him will hold, +And mighty bliss on him shall wait, +So tenderly compassionate. +And Sítá, bred with tender care, +Well knows what toils await her there, +But in her love she will not part +From Ráma of the virtuous heart. +Now has thy son through all the world +The banner of his fame unfurled; +True, modest, careful of his vow, +What has he left to aim at now? +The sun will mark his mighty soul, +His wisdom, sweetness, self-control, +Will spare from pain his face and limb, +And with soft radiance shine for him. +For him through forest glades shall spring +A soft auspicious breeze, and bring +Its tempered heat and cold to play +Around him ever night and day. +The pure cold moonbeams shall delight +The hero as he sleeps at night, +And soothe him with the soft caress +Of a fond parent's tenderness. +To him, the bravest of the brave, +His heavenly arms the Bráhman gave, +When fierce Suváhu dyed the plain +With his life-blood by Ráma slain. +Still trusting to his own right arm +Thy hero son will fear no harm: +As in his father's palace, he +In the wild woods will dauntless be. +Whene'er he lets his arrows fly +His stricken foemen fall and die: +And is that prince of peerless worth +Too weak to keep and sway the earth? +His sweet pure soul, his beauty's charm, +His hero heart, his warlike arm, +Will soon redeem his rightful reign +When from the woods he comes again. +The Bráhmans on the prince's head +King-making drops shall quickly shed, +And Sítá, Earth, and Fortune share +The glories which await the heir. +For him, when forth his chariot swept, +The crowd that thronged Ayodhyá wept, +With agonizing woe distressed. +With him in hermít's mantle dressed +In guise of Sítá Lakshmí went, +And none his glory may prevent. +Yea, naught to him is high or hard, +Before whose steps, to be his guard, +Lakshman, the best who draws the bow, +With spear, shaft, sword rejoiced to go. +His wanderings in the forest o'er, +Thine eyes shall see thy son once more, +Quit thy faint heart, thy grief dispel, +For this, O Queen, is truth I tell. +Thy son returning, moonlike, thence, +Shall at thy feet do reverence, +And, blest and blameless lady, thou +Shalt see his head to touch them bow, +Yea, thou shalt see thy son made king +When he returns with triumphing, +And how thy happy eyes will brim +With tears of joy to look on him! +Thou, blameless lady, shouldst the whole +Of the sad people here console: +Why in thy tender heart allow +This bitter grief to harbour now? +As the long banks of cloud distil +Their water when they see the hill, +So shall the drops of rapture run +From thy glad eyes to see thy son +Returning, as he lowly bends +To greet thee, girt by all his friends." + + Thus soothing, kindly eloquent, +With every hopeful argument +Kausalyá's heart by sorrow rent, + Fair Queen Sumitrá ceased. +Kausalyá heard each pleasant plea, +And grief began to leave her free, +As the light clouds of autumn flee, + Their watery stores decreased. + + + + +Canto XLV. The Tamasá. + + +Their tender love the people drew +To follow Ráma brave and true, +The high-souled hero, as he went +Forth from his home to banishment. +The king himself his friends obeyed, +And turned him homeward as they prayed. +But yet the people turned not back, +Still close on Ráma's chariot track. +For they who in Ayodhyá dwelt +For him such fond affection felt, +Decked with all grace and glories high, +The dear full moon of every eye. +Though much his people prayed and wept, +Kakutstha's son his purpose kept, +And still his journey would pursue +To keep the king his father true. +Deep in the hero's bosom sank +Their love, whose signs his glad eye drank. +He spoke to cheer them, as his own +Dear children, in a loving tone: +"If ye would grant my fond desire, +Give Bharat now that love entire +And reverence shown to me by all +Who dwell within Ayodhyá's wall. +For he, Kaikeyí's darling son, +His virtuous career will run, +And ever bound by duty's chain +Consult your weal and bliss and gain. +In judgment old, in years a child, +With hero virtues meek and mild, +A fitting lord is he to cheer +His people and remove their fear. +In him all kingly gifts abound, +More noble than in me are found: +Imperial prince, well proved and tried-- +Obey him as your lord and guide. +And grant, I pray, the boon I ask: +To please the king be still your task, +That his fond heart, while I remain +Far in the wood, may feel no pain." + + The more he showed his will to tread +The path where filial duty led, +The more the people, round him thronged, +For their dear Ráma's empire longed. +Still more attached his followers grew, +As Ráma, with his brother, drew +The people with his virtues' ties, +Lamenting all with tear-dimmed eyes. +The saintly twice-born, triply old +In glory, knowledge, seasons told, +With hoary heads that shook and bowed, +Their voices raised and spake aloud: +"O steeds, who best and noblest are, +Who whirl so swiftly Ráma's car, +Go not, return: we call on you: +Be to your master kind and true. +For speechless things are swift to hear, +And naught can match a horse's ear, +O generous steeds, return, when thus +You hear the cry of all of us. +Each vow he keeps most firm and sure, +And duty makes his spirit pure. +Back with our chief! not wood-ward hence; +Back to his royal residence!" + + Soon as he saw the aged band. +Exclaiming in their misery, stand, +And their sad cries around him rang, +Swift from his chariot Ráma sprang. +Then, still upon his journey bent, +With Sítá and with Lakshman went +The hero by the old men's side +Suiting to theirs his shortened stride. +He could not pass the twice-born throng +As weariedly they walked along: +With pitying heart, with tender eye, +He could not in his chariot fly. +When the steps of Ráma viewed +That still his onward course pursued, +Woe shook the troubled heart of each, +And burnt with grief they spoke this speech-- + + "With thee, O Ráma, to the wood +All Bráhmans go and Bráhmanhood: +Borne on our aged shoulders, see, +Our fires of worship go with thee. +Bright canopies that lend their shade +In Vájapeya(319) rites displayed, +In plenteous store are borne behind +Like cloudlets in the autumn wind. +No shelter from the sun hast thou, +And, lest his fury burn thy brow, +These sacrificial shades we bear +Shall aid thee in the noontide glare. +Our hearts, who ever loved to pore +On sacred text and Vedic lore, +Now all to thee, beloved, turn, +And for a life in forests yearn. +Deep in our aged bosoms lies +The Vedas' lore, the wealth we prize, +There still, like wives at home, shall dwell, +Whose love and truth protect them well. +To follow thee our hearts are bent; +We need not plan or argument. +All else in duty's law we slight, +For following thee is following right. +O noble Prince, retrace thy way: +O, hear us, Ráma, as we lay, +With many tears and many prayers, +Our aged heads and swan-white hairs +Low in the dust before thy feet; +O, hear us, Ráma, we entreat. +Full many of these who with thee run, +Their sacred rites had just begun. +Unfinished yet those rites remain; +But finished if thou turn again. +All rooted life and things that move +To thee their deep affection prove. +To them, when warmed by love, they glow +And sue to thee, some favour show, +Each lowly bush, each towering tree +Would follow too for love of thee. +Bound by its root it must remain; +But--all it can--its boughs complain, +As when the wild wind rushes by +It tells its woe in groan and sigh. +No more through air the gay birds flit, +But, foodless, melancholy sit +Together on the branch and call +To thee whose kind heart feels for all." + + As wailed the aged Bráhmans, bent +To turn him back, with wild lament, +Seemed Tamasá herself to aid, +Checking his progress, as they prayed. +Sumantra from the chariot freed +With ready hand each weary steed; +He groomed them with the utmost heed, + + Their limbs he bathed and dried, +Then led them forth to drink and feed +At pleasure in the grassy mead +That fringed the river side. + + + + +Canto XLVI. The Halt. + + +When Ráma, chief of Raghu's race, +Arrived at that delightful place, +He looked on Sítá first, and then +To Lakshman spake the lord of men: +"Now first the shades of night descend +Since to the wilds our steps we bend. +Joy to thee, brother! do not grieve +For our dear home and all we leave. +The woods unpeopled seem to weep +Around us, as their tenants creep +Or fly to lair and den and nest, +Both bird and beast, to seek their rest. +Methinks Ayodhyá's royal town +Where dwells my sire of high renown, +With all her men and dames to-night +Will mourn us vanished from their sight. +For, by his virtues won, they cling +In fond affection to their king, +And thee and me, O brave and true, +And Bharat and Satrughna too. +I for my sire and mother feel +Deep sorrow o'er my bosom steal, +Lest mourning us, oppressed with fears, +They blind their eyes with endless tears. +Yet Bharat's duteous love will show +Sweet comfort in their hours of woe, +And with kind words their hearts sustain, +Suggesting duty, bliss, and gain. +I mourn my parents now no more: +I count dear Bharat's virtues o'er, +And his kind love and care dispel +The doubts I had, and all is well. +And thou thy duty wouldst not shun, +And, following me, hast nobly done; +Else, bravest, I should need a band +Around my wife as guard to stand. +On this first night, my thirst to slake, +Some water only will I take: +Thus, brother, thus my will decides, +Though varied store the wood provides." + + Thus having said to Lakshman, he +Addressed in turn Sumantra: "Be +Most diligent to-night, my friend, +And with due care thy horses tend." +The sun had set: Sumantra tied +His noble horses side by side, +Gave store of grass with liberal hand, +And rested near them on the strand. +Each paid the holy evening rite, +And when around them fell the night, +The charioteer, with Lakshman's aid, +A lowly bed for Ráma laid. +To Lakshman Ráma bade adieu, +And then by Sítá's side he threw +His limbs upon the leafy bed +Their care upon the bank had spread. +When Lakshman saw the couple slept, +Still on the strand his watch he kept, +Still with Sumantra there conversed, +And Ráma's varied gifts rehearsed. +All night he watched, nor sought repose, +Till on the earth the sun arose: +With him Sumantra stayed awake, +And still of Ráma's virtues spake. +Thus, near the river's grassy shore +Which herds unnumbered wandered o'er, +Repose, untroubled, Ráma found, +And all the people lay around. +The glorious hero left his bed, +Looked on the sleeping crowd, and said +To Lakshman, whom each lucky line +Marked out for bliss with surest sign: + + "O brother Lakshman, look on these +Reclining at the roots of trees; +All care of house and home resigned, +Caring for us with heart and mind, +These people of the city yearn +To see us to our home return: +To quit their lives will they consent, +But never leave their firm intent. +Come, while they all unconscious sleep, +Let us upon the chariot leap, +And swiftly on our journey speed +Where naught our progress may impede, +That these fond citizens who roam +Far from Ikshváku's ancient home, +No more may sleep 'neath bush and tree, +Following still for love of me. +A prince with tender care should heal +The self-brought woes his people feel, +And never let his subjects share +The burthen he is forced to bear." + + Then Lakshman to the chief replied, +Who stood like Justice by his side: +"Thy rede, O sage, I well commend: +Without delay the car ascend." +Then Ráma to Sumantra spoke: +"Thy rapid steeds, I pray thee, yoke. +Hence to the forest will I go: +Away, my lord, and be not slow." + + Sumantra, urged to utmost speed, +Yoked to the car each generous steed, +And then, with hand to hand applied, +He came before the chief and cried: +"Hail, Prince, whom mighty arms adorn, +Hail, bravest of the chariot-borne! +With Sítá and thy brother thou +Mayst mount: the car is ready now." + + The hero clomb the car with haste: +His bow and gear within were placed, +And quick the eddying flood he passed +Of Tamasá whose waves run fast. +Soon as he touched the farther side, +That strong-armed hero, glorified, +He found a road both wide and clear, +Where e'en the timid naught could fear. +Then, that the crowd might be misled, +Thus Ráma to Sumantra said: +"Speed north a while, then hasten back, +Returning in thy former track, +That so the people may not learn +The course I follow: drive and turn." + + Sumantra, at the chief's behest, +Quick to the task himself addressed; +Then near to Ráma came, and showed +The chariot ready for the road. +With Sítá, then, the princely two, +Who o'er the line of Raghu threw +A glory ever bright and new, + Upon the chariot stood. +Sumantra fast and faster drove +His horses, who in fleetness strove +Still onward to the distant grove, + The hermit-haunted wood. + + + + +Canto XLVII. The Citizens' Return. + + +The people, when the morn shone fair, +Arose to find no Ráma there. +Then fear and numbing grief subdued +The senses of the multitude. +The woe-born tears were running fast +As all around their eyes they cast, +And sadly looked, but found no trace +Of Ráma, searching every place. +Bereft of Ráma good and wise, +With drooping cheer and weeping eyes, +Each woe-distracted sage gave vent +To sorrow in his wild lament: +"Woe worth the sleep that stole our sense +With its beguiling influence, +That now we look in vain for him +Of the broad chest and stalwart limb! +How could the strong-armed hero, thus +Deceiving all, abandon us? +His people so devoted see, +Yet to the woods, a hermit, flee? +How can he, wont our hearts to cheer, +As a fond sire his children dear,-- +How can the pride of Raghu's race +Fly from us to some desert place! +Here let us all for death prepare, +Or on the last great journey fare;(320) +Of Ráma our dear lord bereft, +What profit in our lives is left? +Huge trunks of trees around us lie, +With roots and branches sere and dry, +Come let us set these logs on fire +And throw our bodies on the pyre. +What shall we speak? How can we say +We followed Ráma on his way, +The mighty chief whose arm is strong, +Who sweetly speaks, who thinks no wrong? +Ayodhyá's town with sorrow dumb, +Without our lord will see us come, +And hopeless misery will strike +Elder, and child, and dame alike. +Forth with that peerless chief we came, +Whose mighty heart is aye the same: +How, reft of him we love, shall we +Returning dare that town to see?" + + Complaining thus with varied cry +They tossed their aged arms on high, +And their sad hearts with grief were wrung, +Like cows who sorrow for their young. +A while they followed on the road +Which traces of his chariot showed, +But when at length those traces failed, +A deep despair their hearts assailed. +The chariot marks no more discerned, +The hopeless sages backward turned: +"Ah, what is this? What can we more? +Fate stops the way, and all is o'er." +With wearied hearts, in grief and shame +They took the road by which they came, +And reached Ayodhyá's city, where +From side to side was naught but care. +With troubled spirits quite cast down +They looked upon the royal town, +And from their eyes, oppressed with woe, +Their tears again began to flow. +Of Ráma reft, the city wore +No look of beauty as before, +Like a dull river or a lake +By Garud robbed of every snake. +Dark, dismal as the moonless sky, +Or as a sea whose bed is dry, +So sad, to every pleasure dead, +They saw the town, disquieted. +On to their houses, high and vast, +Where stores of precious wealth were massed, +The melancholy Bráhmans passed, + Their hearts with anguish cleft: +Aloof from all, they came not near +To stranger or to kinsman dear, +Showing in faces blank and drear + That not one joy was left. + + + + +Canto XLVIII. The Women's Lament. + + +When those who forth with Ráma went +Back to the town their steps had bent, +It seemed that death had touched and chilled +Those hearts which piercing sorrow filled. +Each to his several mansion came, +And girt by children and his dame, +From his sad eyes the water shed +That o'er his cheek in torrents spread. +All joy was fled: oppressed with cares +No bustling trader showed his wares. +Each shop had lost its brilliant look, +Each householder forbore to cook. +No hand with joy its earnings told, +None cared to win a wealth of gold, +And scarce the youthful mother smiled +To see her first, her new-born child. +In every house a woman wailed, +And her returning lord assailed +With keen taunt piercing like the steel +That bids the tusked monster kneel: +"What now to them is wedded dame, +What house and home and dearest aim, +Or son, or bliss, or gathered store, +Whose eyes on Ráma look no more! +There is but one in all the earth, +One man alone of real worth, +Lakshman, who follows, true and good, +Ráma, with Sítá, through the wood. +Made holy for all time we deem +Each pool and fountain, lake and stream, +If great Kakutstha's son shall choose +Their water for his bath to use. +Each forest, dark with lovely trees, +Shall yearn Kakutstha's son to please; +Each mountain peak and woody hill, +Each mighty flood and mazy rill, +Each rocky height, each shady grove +Where the blest feet of Ráma rove, +Shall gladly welcome with the best +Of all they have their honoured guest. +The trees that clustering blossoms bear, +And bright-hued buds to gem their hair, +The heart of Ráma shall delight, +And cheer him on the breezy height. +For him the upland slopes will show +The fairest roots and fruit that grow, +And all their wealth before him fling +Ere the due hour of ripening. +For him each earth-upholding hill +Its crystal water shall distil, +And all its floods shall be displayed +In many a thousand-hued cascade. +Where Ráma stands is naught to fear, +No danger comes if he be near; +For all who live on him depend, +The world's support, and lord, and friend. +Ere in too distant wilds he stray, +Let us to Ráma speed away, +For rich reward on those will wait +Who serve a prince of soul so great. +We will attend on Sítá there; +Be Raghu's son your special care." + +The city dames, with grief distressed, +Thus once again their lords addressed: +"Ráma shall be your guard and guide, +And Sítá will for us provide. +For who would care to linger here, +Where all is sad and dark and drear? +Who, mid the mourners, hope for bliss +In a poor soulless town like this? +If Queen Kaikeyí's treacherous sin, +Our lord expelled, the kingdom win, +We heed not sons or golden store, +Our life itself we prize no more. +If she, seduced by lust of sway, +Her lord and son could cast away, +Whom would she leave unharmed, the base +Defiler of her royal race? +We swear it by our children dear, +We will not dwell as servants here; +If Queen Kaikeyí live to reign, +We will not in her realm remain. +Bowed down by her oppressive hand, +The helpless, lordless, godless land, +Cursed for Kaikeyí's guilt will fall, +And swift destruction seize it all. +For, Ráma forced from home to fly, +The king his sire will surely die, +And when the king has breathed his last +Ruin will doubtless follow fast. +Sad, robbed of merits, drug the cup +And drink the poisoned mixture up, +Or share the exiled Ráma's lot, +Or seek some land that knows her not. +No reason, but a false pretence +Drove Ráma, Sítá, Lakshman hence, +And we to Bharat have been given +Like cattle to the shambles driven." + + While in each house the women, pained +At loss of Ráma, still complained, +Sank to his rest the Lord of Day, +And night through all the sky held sway. +The fires of worship all were cold, +No text was hummed, no tale was told, +And shades of midnight gloom came down +Enveloping the mournful town. +Still, sick at heart, the women shed, +As for a son or husband fled, +For Ráma tears, disquieted: + No child was loved as he. +And all Ayodhyá, where the feast, +Music, and song, and dance had ceased, + And merriment and glee, +Where every merchant's store was closed +That erst its glittering wares exposed, + Was like a dried up sea. + + + + +Canto XLIX. The Crossing Of The Rivers. + + +Now Ráma, ere the night was fled, +O'er many a league of road had sped, +Till, as his course he onward held, +The morn the shades of night dispelled. +The rites of holy dawn he paid, +And all the country round surveyed. +He saw, as still he hurried through +With steeds which swift as arrows flew, +Hamlets and groves with blossoms fair, +And fields which showed the tillers' care, +While from the clustered dwellings near +The words of peasants reached his ear: +"Fie on our lord the king, whose soul +Is yielded up to love's control! +Fie on the vile Kaikeyí! Shame +On that malicious sinful dame, +Who, keenly bent on cruel deeds, +No bounds of right and virtue heeds, +But with her wicked art has sent +So good a prince to banishment, +Wise, tender-hearted, ruling well +His senses, in the woods to dwell. +Ah cruel king! his heart of steel +For his own son no love could feel, +Who with the sinless Ráma parts, +The darling of the people's hearts." + + These words he heard the peasants say, +Who dwelt in hamlets by the way, +And, lord of all the realm by right, +Through Kosala pursued his flight. +Through the auspicious flood, at last, +Of Vedasrutí's stream he passed, +And onward to the place he sped +By Saint Agastya tenanted. +Still on for many an hour he hied, +And crossed the stream whose cooling tide +Rolls onward till she meets the sea, +The herd-frequented Gomatí.(321) +Borne by his rapid horses o'er, +He reached that river's further shore. +And Syandiká's, whose swan-loved stream +Resounded with the peacock's scream. +Then as he journeyed on his road +To his Videhan bride he showed +The populous land which Manu old +To King Ikshváku gave to hold. +The glorious prince, the lord of men +Looked on the charioteer, and then +Voiced like a wild swan, loud and clear, +He spake these words and bade him hear: +"When shall I, with returning feet +My father and my mother meet? +When shall I lead the hunt once more +In bloomy woods on Sarjú's shore? +Most eagerly I long to ride +Urging the chase on Sarjú's side. +For royal saints have seen no blame +In this, the monarch's matchless game." + + Thus speeding on,--no rest or stay,-- +Ikshváku's son pursued his way. +Oft his sweet voice the silence broke, +And thus on varied themes he spoke. + + + + +Canto L. The Halt Under The Ingudí.(322) + + +So through the wide and fair extent +Of Kosala the hero went. +Then toward Ayodhyá back he gazed, +And cried, with suppliant hands upraised: +"Farewell, dear city, first in place, +Protected by Kakutstha's race! +And Gods, who in thy temples dwell, +And keep thine ancient citadel! +I from his debt my sire will free, +Thy well-loved towers again will see, +And, coming from my wild retreat, +My mother and my father meet." + +Then burning grief inflamed his eye, +As his right arm he raised on high, +And, while hot tears his cheek bedewed, +Addressed the mournful multitude: +"By love and tender pity moved, +Your love for me you well have proved; +Now turn again with joy, and win +Success in all your hands begin." + + Before the high souled chief they bent, +With circling steps around him went, +And then with bitter wailing, they +Departed each his several way. +Like the great sun engulfed by night, +The hero sped beyond their sight, +While still the people mourned his fate +And wept aloud disconsolate. +The car-borne chieftain passed the bound +Of Kosala's delightful ground, +Where grain and riches bless the land, +And people give with liberal hand: +A lovely realm unvexed by fear, +Where countless shrines and stakes(323) appear: +Where mango-groves and gardens grow, +And streams of pleasant water flow: +Where dwells content a well-fed race, +And countless kine the meadows grace: +Filled with the voice of praise and prayer: +Each hamlet worth a monarch's care. +Before him three-pathed Gangá rolled +Her heavenly waters bright and cold; +O'er her pure breast no weeds were spread, +Her banks were hermit-visited. +The car-borne hero saw the tide +That ran with eddies multiplied, +And thus the charioteer addressed: +"Here on the bank to-day we rest. +Not distant from the river, see! +There grows a lofty Ingudí +With blossoms thick on every spray: +There rest we, charioteer, to-day. +I on the queen of floods will gaze, +Whose holy stream has highest praise, +Where deer, and bird, and glittering snake, +God, Daitya, bard their pastime take." + + Sumantra, Lakshman gave assent, +And with the steeds they thither went. +When Ráma reached the lovely tree, +With Sítá and with Lakshman, he +Alighted from the car: with speed +Sumantra loosed each weary steed. +And, hand to hand in reverence laid, +Stood near to Ráma in the shade. +Ráma's dear friend, renowned by fame, +Who of Nisháda lineage came, +Guha, the mighty chief, adored +Through all the land as sovereign lord, +Soon as he heard that prince renowned +Was resting on Nisháda ground, +Begirt by counsellor and peer +And many an honoured friend drew near. +Soon as the monarch came in view, +Ráma and Lakshman toward him flew. +Then Guha, at the sight distressed, +His arms around the hero pressed, +Laid both his hands upon his head +Bowed to those lotus feet, and said: +"O Ráma, make thy wishes known, +And be this kingdom as thine own. +Who, mighty-armed, will ever see +A guest so dear as thou to me?" + + He placed before him dainty fare +Of every flavour, rich and rare, +Brought forth the gift for honoured guest, +And thus again the chief addressed: +"Welcome, dear Prince, whose arms are strong; +These lands and all to thee belong. +Thy servants we, our lord art thou; +Begin, good king, thine empire now. +See, various food before thee placed, +And cups to drink and sweets to taste +For thee soft beds are hither borne, +And for thy horses grass and corn." + + To Guha as he pressed and prayed, +Thus Raghu's son his answer made: +"'Twas aye thy care my heart to please +With honour, love, and courtesies, +And friendship brings thee now to greet +Thy guest thus humbly on thy feet." + + Again the hero spake, as round +The king his shapely arms he wound: +"Guha, I see that all is well +With thee and those who with thee dwell; +That health and bliss and wealth attend +Thy realm, thyself, and every friend. +But all these friendly gifts of thine, +Bound to refuse, I must decline. +Grass, bark, and hide my only wear, +And woodland roots and fruit my fare, +On duty all my heart is set; +I seek the woods, an anchoret. +A little grass and corn to feed +The horses--this is all I need. +So by this favour, King, alone +Shall honour due to me be shown. +For these good steeds who brought me here +Are to my sire supremely dear; +And kind attention paid to these +Will honour me and highly please." + + Then Guha quickly bade his train +Give water to the steeds, and grain. +And Ráma, ere the night grew dark, +Paid evening rites in dress of bark, +And tasted water, on the strand, +Drawn from the stream by Lakshman's hand. +And Lakshman with observance meet +Bathed his beloved brother's feet, +Who rested with his Maithil spouse: +Then sat him down 'neath distant boughs. +And Guha with his bow sat near +To Lakshman and the charioteer, +And with the prince conversing kept +His faithful watch while Ráma slept. +As Dasaratha's glorious heir, +Of lofty soul and wisdom rare, +Reclining with his Sítá there + Beside the river lay-- +He who no troubles e'er had seen, +Whose life a life of bliss had been-- +That night beneath the branches green + Passed pleasantly away. + + + + +Canto LI. Lakshman's Lament. + + +As Lakshman still his vigil held +By unaffected love impelled, +Guha, whose heart the sight distressed, +With words like these the prince addressed: +"Beloved youth, this pleasant bed +Was brought for thee, for thee is spread; +On this, my Prince, thine eyelids close, +And heal fatigue with sweet repose. +My men are all to labour trained, +But hardship thou hast ne'er sustained. +All we this night our watch will keep +And guard Kakutstha's son asleep. +In all the world there breathes not one +More dear to me than Raghu's son. +The words I speak, heroic youth, +Are true: I swear it by my truth. +Through his dear grace supreme renown +Will, so I trust, my wishes crown. +So shall my life rich store obtain +Of merit, blest with joy and gain. +While Raghu's son and Sítá lie +Entranced in happy slumber, I +Will, with my trusty bow in hand, +Guard my dear friend with all my band. +To me, who oft these forests range, +Is naught therein or new or strange. +We could with equal might oppose +A four-fold army led by foes." + + Then royal Lakshman made reply: +"With thee to stand as guardian nigh, +Whose faithful soul regards the right, +Fearless we well might rest to-night. +But how, when Ráma lays his head +With Sítá on his lowly bed,-- +How can I sleep? how can I care +For life, or aught that's bright and fair? +Behold the conquering chief, whose might +Is match for Gods and fiends in fight; +With Sítá now he rests his head +Asleep on grass beneath him spread. +Won by devotion, text, and prayer, +And many a rite performed with care, +Chief of our father's sons he shines +Well marked, like him, with favouring signs. +Brief, brief the monarch's life will be +Now his dear son is forced to flee; +And quickly will the widowed state +Mourn for her lord disconsolate. +Each mourner there has wept her fill; +The cries of anguish now are still: +In the king's hall each dame, o'ercome +With weariness of woe is dumb. +This first sad night of grief, I ween, +Will do to death each sorrowing queen: +Scarce is Kausalyá left alive; +My mother, too, can scarce survive. +If when her heart is fain to break, +She lingers for Satrughna's sake, +Kausalyá, mother of the chief, +Must sink beneath the chilling grief. +That town which countless thousands fill, +Whose hearts with love of Ráma thrill,-- +The world's delight, so rich and fair,-- +Grieved for the king, his death will share. +The hopes he fondly cherished, crossed +Ayodhyá's throne to Ráma lost,-- +With mournful cries, Too late, too late! +The king my sire will meet his fate. +And when my sire has passed away, +Most happy in their lot are they, +Allowed, with every pious care, +Part in his funeral rites to bear. +And O, may we with joy at last,-- +These years of forest exile past,-- +Turn to Ayodhyá's town to dwell +With him who keeps his promise well!" + + While thus the hero mighty-souled, +In wild lament his sorrow told, +Faint with the load that on him lay, +The hours of darkness passed away. +As thus the prince, impelled by zeal +For his loved brother, prompt to feel +Strong yearnings for the people's weal, + His words of truth outspake, +King Guha grieved to see his woe, +Heart-stricken, gave his tears to flow, +Tormented by the common blow, + Sad, as a wounded snake. + + + + +Canto LII. The Crossing Of Gangá. + + +Soon as the shades of night had fled, +Uprising from his lowly bed, +Ráma the famous, broad of chest, +His brother Lakshman thus addressed: +"Now swift upsprings the Lord of Light, +And fled is venerable night. +That dark-winged bird the Koïl now +Is calling from the topmost bough, +And sounding from the thicket nigh +Is heard the peacock's early cry. +Come, cross the flood that seeks the sea, +The swiftly flowing Jáhnaví."(324) + + King Guha heard his speech, agreed, +And called his minister with speed: +"A boat," he cried, "swift, strong, and fair, +With rudder, oars, and men, prepare, +And place it ready by the shore +To bear the pilgrims quickly o'er." +Thus Guha spake: his followers all +Bestirred them at their master's call; +Then told the king that ready manned +A gay boat waited near the strand. +Then Guha, hand to hand applied, +With reverence thus to Ráma cried: +"The boat is ready by the shore: +How, tell me, can I aid thee more? +O lord of men, it waits for thee +To cross the flood that seeks the sea. +O godlike keeper of thy vow, +Embark: the boat is ready now." + + Then Ráma, lord of glory high, +Thus to King Guha made reply: +"Thanks for thy gracious care, my lord: +Now let the gear be placed on board." +Each bow-armed chief, in mail encased, +Bound sword and quiver to his waist, +And then with Sítá near them hied +Down the broad river's shelving side. +Then with raised palms the charioteer, +In lowly reverence drawing near, +Cried thus to Ráma good and true: +"Now what remains for me to do?" + With his right hand, while answering + The hero touched his friend: + "Go back," he said, "and on the king + With watchful care attend. +Thus far, Sumantra, thou wast guide; +Now to Ayodhyá turn," he cried: +"Hence seek we leaving steeds and car, +On foot the wood that stretches far." + + Sumantra, when, with grieving heart, +He heard the hero bid him part, +Thus to the bravest of the brave, +Ikshváku's son, his answer gave: +"In all the world men tell of naught, +To match thy deed, by heroes wrought-- +Thus with thy brother and thy wife +Thrall-like to lead a forest life. +No meet reward of fruit repays +Thy holy lore, thy saintlike days, +Thy tender soul, thy love of truth, +If woe like this afflicts thy youth. +Thou, roaming under forest boughs +With thy dear brother and thy spouse +Shalt richer meed of glory gain +Than if three worlds confessed thy reign. +Sad is our fate, O Ráma: we, +Abandoned and repelled by thee, +Must serve as thralls Kaikeyí's will, +Imperious, wicked, born to ill." + + Thus cried the faithful charioteer, +As Raghu's son, in rede his peer, +Was fast departing on his road,-- +And long his tears of anguish flowed. +But Ráma, when those tears were dried +His lips with water purified, +And in soft accents, sweet and clear, +Again addressed the charioteer: +"I find no heart, my friend, like thine, +So faithful to Ikshváku's line. +Still first in view this object keep, +That ne'er for me my sire may weep. +For he, the world's far-ruling king, +Is old, and wild with sorrow's sting; +With love's great burthen worn and weak: +Deem this the cause that thus I speak +Whate'er the high-souled king decrees +His loved Kaikeyí's heart to please, +Yea, be his order what it may, +Without demur thou must obey, +For this alone great monarchs reign, +That ne'er a wish be formed in vain. +Then, O Sumantra, well provide +That by no check the king be tried: +Nor let his heart in sorrow pine: +This care, my faithful friend, be thine. +The honoured king my father greet, +And thus for me my words repeat +To him whose senses are controlled, +Untired till now by grief, and old; +"I, Sítá, Lakshman sorrow not, +O Monarch, for our altered lot: +The same to us, if here we roam, +Or if Ayodhyá be our home, +The fourteen years will quickly fly, +The happy hour will soon be nigh +When thou, my lord, again shalt see +Lakshman, the Maithil dame, and me." +Thus having soothed, O charioteer, +My father and my mother dear, +Let all the queens my message learn, +But to Kaikeyí chiefly turn. +With loving blessings from the three, +From Lakshman, Sítá, and from me, +My mother, Queen Kausalyá, greet +With reverence to her sacred feet. +And add this prayer of mine: "O King; +Send quickly forth and Bharat bring, +And set him on the royal throne +Which thy decree has made his own. +When he upon the throne is placed, +When thy fond arms are round him laced, +Thine aged heart will cease to ache +With bitter pangs for Ráma's sake." +And say to Bharat: "See thou treat +The queens with all observance meet: +What care the king receives, the same +Show thou alike to every dame. +Obedience to thy father's will +Who chooses thee the throne to fill, +Will earn for thee a store of bliss +Both in the world to come and this.' " + + Thus Ráma bade Sumantra go +With thoughtful care instructed so. +Sumantra all his message heard, +And spake again, by passion stirred: +"O, should deep feeling mar in aught +The speech by fond devotion taught, +Forgive whate'er I wildly speak: +My love is strong, my tongue is weak. +How shall I, if deprived of thee, +Return that mournful town to see: +Where sick at heart the people are +Because their Ráma roams afar. +Woe will be theirs too deep to brook +When on the empty car they look, +As when from hosts, whose chiefs are slain, +One charioteer comes home again. +This very day, I ween, is food +Forsworn by all the multitude, +Thinking that thou, with hosts to aid, +Art dwelling in the wild wood's shade. +The great despair, the shriek of woe +They uttered when they saw thee go, +Will, when I come with none beside, +A hundred-fold be multiplied. +How to Kausalyá can I say: +"O Queen, I took thy son away, +And with thy brother left him well: +Weep not for him; thy woe dispel?" +So false a tale I cannot frame, +Yet how speak truth and grieve the dame? +How shall these horses, fleet and bold, +Whom not a hand but mine can hold, +Bear others, wont to whirl the car +Wherein Ikshváku's children are! +Without thee, Prince, I cannot, no, +I cannot to Ayodhyá go. +Then deign, O Ráma, to relent, +And let me share thy banishment. +But if no prayers can move thy heart, +If thou wilt quit me and depart, +The flames shall end my car and me, +Deserted thus and reft of thee. +In the wild wood when foes are near, +When dangers check thy vows austere, +Borne in my car will I attend, +All danger and all care to end. +For thy dear sake I love the skill +That guides the steed and curbs his will: +And soon a forest life will be +As pleasant, for my love of thee. +And if these horses near thee dwell, +And serve thee in the forest well, +They, for their service, will not miss +The due reward of highest bliss. +Thine orders, as with thee I stray, +Will I with heart and head obey, +Prepared, for thee, without a sigh, +To lose Ayodhyá or the sky. +As one defiled with hideous sin, +I never more can pass within +Ayodhyá, city of our king, +Unless beside me thee I bring. +One wish is mine, I ask no more, +That, when thy banishment is o'er +I in my car may bear my lord, +Triumphant, to his home restored. +The fourteen years, if spent with thee, +Will swift as light-winged moments flee; +But the same years, without thee told, +Were magnified a hundred-fold. +Do not, kind lord, thy servant leave, +Who to his master's son would cleave, +And the same path with him pursue, +Devoted, tender, just and true." + + Again, again Sumantra made +His varied plaint, and wept and prayed. +Him Raghu's son, whose tender breast +Felt for his servants, thus addressed: +"O faithful servant, well my heart +Knows how attached and true thou art. +Hear thou the words I speak, and know +Why to the town I bid thee go. +Soon as Kaikeyí, youngest queen, +Thy coming to the town has seen, +No doubt will then her mind oppress +That Ráma roams the wilderness. +And so the dame, her heart content +With proof of Ráma's banishment, +Will doubt the virtuous king no more +As faithless to the oath he swore. +Chief of my cares is this, that she, +Youngest amid the queens, may see +Bharat her son securely reign +O'er rich Ayodhyá's wide domain. +For mine and for the monarch's sake +Do thou thy journey homeward take, +And, as I bade, repeat each word +That from my lips thou here hast heard." + + Thus spake the prince, and strove to cheer +The sad heart of the charioteer, +And then to royal Guha said +These words most wise and spirited: +"Guha, dear friend, it is not meet +That people throng my calm retreat: +For I must live a strict recluse, +And mould my life by hermits' use. +I now the ancient rule accept +By good ascetics gladly kept. +I go: bring fig-tree juice that I +In matted coils my hair may tie." + + Quick Guha hastened to produce, +For the king's son, that sacred juice. +Then Ráma of his long locks made, +And Lakshman's too, the hermit braid. +And the two royal brothers there +With coats of bark and matted hair, +Transformed in lovely likeness stood +To hermit saints who love the wood. +So Ráma, with his brother bold, +A pious anchorite enrolled, +Obeyed the vow which hermits take, +And to his friend, King Guha, spake: +"May people, treasure, army share, +And fenced forts, thy constant care: +Attend to all: supremely hard +The sovereign's task, to watch and guard." + + Ikshváku's son, the good and brave, +This last farewell to Guha gave, +And then, with Lakshman and his bride, +Determined, on his way he hied. +Soon as he viewed, upon the shore, +The bark prepared to waft them o'er +Impetuous Gangá's rolling tide, +To Lakshman thus the chieftain cried: +"Brother, embark; thy hand extend, +Thy gentle aid to Sítá lend: +With care her trembling footsteps guide, +And place the lady by thy side." +When Lakshman heard, prepared to aid, +His brother's words he swift obeyed. +Within the bark he placed the dame, +Then to her side the hero came. +Next Lakshman's elder brother, lord +Of brightest glory, when on board, +Breathing a prayer for blessings, meet +For priest or warrior to repeat, +Then he and car-borne Lakshman bent, +Well-pleased, their heads, most reverent, +Their hands, with Sítá, having dipped, +As Scripture bids, and water sipped, +Farewell to wise Sumantra said, +And Guha, with the train he led. +So Ráma took, on board, his stand, +And urged the vessel from the land. +Then swift by vigorous arms impelled +Her onward course the vessel held, +And guided by the helmsman through +The dashing waves of Gangá flew. +Half way across the flood they came, +When Sítá, free from spot and blame, +Her reverent hands together pressed, +The Goddess of the stream addressed: +"May the great chieftain here who springs +From Dasaratha, best of kings, +Protected by thy care, fulfil +His prudent father's royal will. +When in the forest he has spent +His fourteen years of banishment, +With his dear brother and with me +His home again my lord shall see. +Returning on that blissful day, +I will to thee mine offerings pay, +Dear Queen, whose waters gently flow, +Who canst all blessed gifts bestow. +For, three-pathed Queen, though wandering here, +Thy waves descend from Brahmá's sphere, +Spouse of the God o'er floods supreme, +Though rolling here thy glorious stream. +To thee, fair Queen, my head shall bend, +To thee shall hymns of praise ascend, +When my brave lord shall turn again, +And, joyful, o'er his kingdom reign. +To win thy grace, O Queen divine, +A hundred thousand fairest kine, +And precious robes and finest meal +Among the Bráhmans will I deal. +A hundred jars of wine shall flow, +When to my home, O Queen, I go; +With these, and flesh, and corn, and rice, +Will I, delighted, sacrifice. +Each hallowed spot, each holy shrine +That stands on these fair shores of thine, +Each fane and altar on thy banks +Shall share my offerings and thanks. +With me and Lakshman, free from harm, +May he the blameless, strong of arm, +Reseek Ayodhyá from the wild, +O blameless Lady undefiled!" + + As, praying for her husband's sake, +The faultless dame to Gangá spake, +To the right bank the vessel flew +With her whose heart was right and true. +Soon as the bark had crossed the wave, +The lion leader of the brave, +Leaving the vessel on the strand, +With wife and brother leapt to land. +Then Ráma thus the prince addressed +Who filled with joy Sumitrá's breast: +"Be thine alike to guard and aid +In peopled spot, in lonely shade. +Do thou, Sumitrá's son, precede: +Let Sítá walk where thou shalt lead. +Behind you both my place shall be, +To guard the Maithil dame and thee. +For she, to woe a stranger yet, +No toil or grief till now has met; +The fair Videhan will assay +The pains of forest life to-day. +To-day her tender feet must tread +Rough rocky wilds around her spread: +No tilth is there, no gardens grow, +No crowding people come and go." + + The hero ceased: and Lakshman led +Obedient to the words he said: +And Sítá followed him, and then +Came Raghu's pride, the lord of men. +With Sítá walking o'er the sand +They sought the forest, bow in hand, +But still their lingering glances threw +Where yet Sumantra stood in view. +Sumantra, when his watchful eye +The royal youths no more could spy, +Turned from the spot whereon he stood +Homeward with Guha from the wood. +Still on the brothers forced their way +Where sweet birds sang on every spray, +Though scarce the eye a path could find +Mid flowering trees where creepers twined. +Far on the princely brothers pressed, +And stayed their feet at length to rest +Beneath a fig tree's mighty shade +With countless pendent shoots displayed. +Reclining there a while at ease, +They saw, not far, beneath fair trees +A lake with many a lotus bright +That bore the name of Lovely Sight. +Ráma his wife's attention drew, +And Lakshman's, to the charming view: +"Look, brother, look how fair the flood +Glows with the lotus, flower and bud!" + + They drank the water fresh and clear, +And with their shafts they slew a deer. +A fire of boughs they made in haste, +And in the flame the meat they placed. +So Raghu's sons with Sítá shared +The hunter's meal their hands prepared, +Then counselled that the spreading tree +Their shelter and their home should be. + + + + +Canto LIII. Ráma's Lament. + + +When evening rites were duly paid, +Reclined beneath the leafy shade, +To Lakshman thus spake Ráma, best +Of those who glad a people's breast: +"Now the first night has closed the day +That saw us from our country stray, +And parted from the charioteer; +Yet grieve not thou, my brother dear. +Henceforth by night, when others sleep, +Must we our careful vigil keep, +Watching for Sítá's welfare thus, +For her dear life depends on us. +Bring me the leaves that lie around, +And spread them here upon the ground, +That we on lowly beds may lie, +And let in talk the night go by." + + So on the ground with leaves o'erspread, +He who should press a royal bed, +Ráma with Lakshman thus conversed, +And many a pleasant tale rehearsed: +"This night the king," he cried, "alas! +In broken sleep will sadly pass. +Kaikeyí now content should be, +For mistress of her wish is she. +So fiercely she for empire yearns, +That when her Bharat home returns, +She in her greed, may even bring +Destruction on our lord the king. +What can he do, in feeble eld, +Reft of all aid and me expelled, +His soul enslaved by love, a thrall +Obedient to Kaikeyí's call? +As thus I muse upon his woe +And all his wisdoms overthrow, +Love is, methinks, of greater might +To stir the heart than gain and right. +For who, in wisdom's lore untaught, +Could by a beauty's prayer be bought +To quit his own obedient son, +Who loves him, as my sire has done! +Bharat, Kaikeyí's child, alone +Will, with his wife, enjoy the throne, +And blissfully his rule maintain +O'er happy Kosala's domain. +To Bharat's single lot will fall +The kingdom and the power and all, +When fails the king from length of days, +And Ráma in the forest strays. +Whoe'er, neglecting right and gain, +Lets conquering love his soul enchain, +To him, like Dasaratha's lot, +Comes woe with feet that tarry not. +Methinks at last the royal dame, +Dear Lakshman, has secured her aim, +To see at once her husband dead, +Her son enthroned, and Ráma fled. +Ah me! I fear, lest borne away +By frenzy of success, she slay +Kausalyá, through her wicked hate +Of me, bereft, disconsolate; +Or her who aye for me has striven +Sumitrá, to devotion given. +Hence, Lakshman, to Ayodhyá speed, +Returning in the hour of need. +With Sítá I my steps will bend +Where Dandak's mighty woods extend. +No guardian has Kausalyá now: +O, be her friend and guardian thou. +Strong hate may vile Kaikeyí lead +To many a base unrighteous deed, +Treading my mother 'neath her feet +When Bharat holds the royal seat. +Sure in some antenatal time +Were children, by Kausalyá's crime, +Torn from their mothers' arms away, +And hence she mourns this evil day. +She for her child no toil would spare +Tending me long with pain and care; +Now in the hour of fruitage she +Has lost that son, ah, woe is me. +O Lakshman, may no matron e'er +A son so doomed to sorrow bear +As I, my mother's heart who rend +With anguish that can never end. +The Sáriká,(325) methinks, possessed +More love than glows in Ráma's breast. +Who, as the tale is told to us, +Addressed the stricken parrot thus: +"Parrot, the capturer's talons tear, +While yet alone thou flutterest there, +Before his mouth has closed on me:" +So cried the bird, herself to free. +Reft of her son, in childless woe, +My mother's tears for ever flow: +Ill-fated, doomed with grief to strive, +What aid can she from me derive? +Pressed down by care, she cannot rise +From sorrow's flood wherein she lies. +In righteous wrath my single arm +Could, with my bow, protect from harm +Ayodhyá's town and all the earth: +But what is hero prowess worth? +Lest breaking duty's law I sin, +And lose the heaven I strive to win, +The forest life today I choose, +And kingly state and power refuse." + + Thus mourning in that lonely spot +The troubled chief bewailed his lot, +And filled with tears, his eyes ran o'er; +Then silent sat, and spake no more. +To him, when ceased his loud lament, +Like fire whose brilliant might is spent, +Or the great sea when sleeps the wave, +Thus Lakshman consolation gave: +"Chief of the brave who bear the bow, +E'en now Ayodhyá, sunk in woe, +By thy departure reft of light +Is gloomy as the moonless night. +Unfit it seems that thou, O chief, +Shouldst so afflict thy soul with grief, +So with thou Sítá's heart consign +To deep despair as well as mine. +Not I, O Raghu's son, nor she +Could live one hour deprived of thee: +We were, without thine arm to save, +Like fish deserted by the wave. +Although my mother dear to meet, +Satrughna, and the king, were sweet, +On them, or heaven, to feed mine eye +Were nothing, if thou wert not by." + + Sitting at ease, their glances fell +Upon the beds, constructed well, +And there the sons of virtue laid +Their limbs beneath the fig tree's shade. + + + + +Canto LIV. Bharadvája's Hermitage. + + +So there that night the heroes spent +Under the boughs that o'er them bent, +And when the sun his glory spread, +Upstarting, from the place they sped. +On to that spot they made their way, +Through the dense wood that round them lay, +Where Yamuná's(326) swift waters glide +To blend with Gangá's holy tide. +Charmed with the prospect ever new +The glorious heroes wandered through +Full many a spot of pleasant ground, +Rejoicing as they gazed around, +With eager eye and heart at ease, +On countless sorts of flowery trees. +And now the day was half-way sped +When thus to Lakshman Ráma said: +"There, there, dear brother, turn thine eyes; +See near Prayág(327) that smoke arise: +The banner of our Lord of Flames +The dwelling of some saint proclaims. +Near to the place our steps we bend +Where Yamuná and Gangá blend. +I hear and mark the deafening roar +When chafing floods together pour. +See, near us on the ground are left +Dry logs, by labouring woodmen cleft, +And the tall trees, that blossom near +Saint Bharadvája's home, appear." + + The bow-armed princes onward passed, +And as the sun was sinking fast +They reached the hermit's dwelling, set +Near where the rushing waters met. +The presence of the warrior scared +The deer and birds as on he fared, +And struck them with unwonted awe: +Then Bharadvája's cot they saw. +The high-souled hermit soon they found +Girt by his dear disciples round: +Calm saint, whose vows had well been wrought, +Whose fervent rites keen sight had bought. +Duly had flames of worship blazed +When Ráma on the hermit gazed: +His suppliant hands the hero raised, +Drew nearer to the holy man +With his companions, and began, +Declaring both his name and race +And why they sought that distant place: +"Saint, Dasaratha's children we, +Ráma and Lakshman, come to thee. +This my good wife from Janak springs, +The best of fair Videha's kings; +Through lonely wilds, a faultless dame, +To this pure grove with me she came. +My younger brother follows still +Me banished by my father's will: +Sumitrá's son, bound by a vow,-- +He roams the wood beside me now. +Sent by my father forth to rove, +We seek, O Saint, some holy grove, +Where lives of hermits we may lead, +And upon fruits and berries feed." + + When Bharadvája, prudent-souled, +Had heard the prince his tale unfold, +Water he bade them bring, a bull, +And honour-gifts in dishes full, +And drink and food of varied taste, +Berries and roots, before him placed, +And then the great ascetic showed +A cottage for the guests' abode. +The saint these honours gladly paid +To Ráma who had thither strayed, +Then compassed sat by birds and deer +And many a hermit resting near. +The prince received the service kind, +And sat him down rejoiced in mind. +Then Bharadvája silence broke, +And thus the words of duty spoke: +"Kakutstha's royal son, that thou +Hadst sought this grove I knew ere now. +Mine ears have heard thy story, sent +Without a sin to banishment. +Behold, O Prince, this ample space +Near where the mingling floods embrace, +Holy, and beautiful, and clear: +Dwell with us, and be happy here." + + By Bharadvája thus addressed, +Ráma whose kind and tender breast +All living things would bless and save, +In gracious words his answer gave: + + "My honoured lord, this tranquil spot, +Fair home of hermits, suits me not: +For all the neighbouring people here +Will seek us when they know me near: +With eager wish to look on me, +And the Videhan dame to see, +A crowd of rustics will intrude +Upon the holy solitude. +Provide, O gracious lord, I pray, +Some quiet home that lies away, +Where my Videhan spouse may dwell +Tasting the bliss deserved so well." + + The hermit heard the prayer he made: +A while in earnest thought he stayed, +And then in words like these expressed +His answer to the chief's request: +"Ten leagues away there stands a hill +Where thou mayst live, if such thy will: +A holy mount, exceeding fair; +Great saints have made their dwelling there: +There great Langúrs(328) in thousands play, +And bears amid the thickets stray; +Wide-known by Chitrakúta's name, +It rivals Gandhamádan's(329) fame. +Long as the man that hill who seeks +Gazes upon its sacred peaks, +To holy things his soul he gives +And pure from thought of evil lives. +There, while a hundred autumns fled, +Has many a saint with hoary head +Spent his pure life, and won the prize, +By deep devotion, in the skies: +Best home, I ween, if such retreat, +Far from the ways of men, be sweet: +Or let thy years of exile flee +Here in this hermitage with me." + + Thus Bharadvája spake, and trained +In lore of duty, entertained +The princes and the dame, and pressed +His friendly gifts on every guest. + + Thus to Prayág the hero went, +Thus saw the saint preëminent, +And varied speeches heard and said: +Then holy night o'er heaven was spread. +And Ráma took, by toil oppressed, +With Sítá and his brother, rest; +And so the night, with sweet content, +In Bharadvája's grove was spent. +But when the dawn dispelled the night, +Ráma approached the anchorite, +And thus addressed the holy sire +Whose glory shone like kindled fire: +"Well have we spent, O truthful Sage, +The night within thy hermitage: +Now let my lord his guests permit +For their new home his grove to quit." + + Then, as he saw the morning break, +In answer Bharadvája spake: +"Go forth to Chitrakúta's hill, +Where berries grow, and sweets distil: +Full well, I deem, that home will suit +Thee, Ráma, strong and resolute. +Go forth, and Chitrakúta seek, +Famed mountain of the Varied Peak. +In the wild woods that gird him round +All creatures of the chase are found: +Thou in the glades shalt see appear +Vast herds of elephants and deer. +With Sítá there shalt thou delight +To gaze upon the woody height; +There with expanding heart to look +On river, table-land, and brook, +And see the foaming torrent rave +Impetuous from the mountain cave. +Auspicious hill! where all day long +The lapwing's cry, the Koïl's song + Make all who listen gay: +Where all is fresh and fair to see, +Where elephants and deer roam free, + There, as a hermit, stay." + + + + +Canto LV. The Passage Of Yamuná. + + +The princely tamers of their foes +Thus passed the night in calm repose, +Then to the hermit having bent +With reverence, on their way they went. +High favour Bharadvája showed, +And blessed them ready for the road. +With such fond looks as fathers throw +On their own sons, before they go. +Then spake the saint with glory bright +To Ráma peerless in his might: +"First, lords of men, direct your feet +Where Yamuná and Gangá meet; +Then to the swift Kálindí(330) go, +Whose westward waves to Gangá flow. +When thou shalt see her lovely shore +Worn by their feet who hasten o'er, +Then, Raghu's son, a raft prepare, +And cross the Sun born river there. +Upon her farther bank a tree, +Near to the landing wilt thou see. +The blessed source of varied gifts, +There her green boughs that Fig-tree lifts: +A tree where countless birds abide, +By Syáma's name known far and wide. +Sítá, revere that holy shade: +There be thy prayers for blessing prayed. +Thence for a league your way pursue, +And a dark wood shall meet your view, +Where tall bamboos their foliage show, +The Gum-tree and the Jujube grow. +To Chitrakúta have I oft +Trodden that path so smooth and soft, +Where burning woods no traveller scare, +But all is pleasant, green, and fair." + + When thus the guests their road had learned, +Back to his cot the hermit turned, +And Ráma, Lakshman, Sítá paid +Their reverent thanks for courteous aid. +Thus Ráma spake to Lakshman, when +The saint had left the lords of men: +"Great store of bliss in sooth is ours +On whom his love the hermit showers." +As each to other wisely talked, +The lion lords together walked +On to Kálindí's woody shore; +And gentle Sítá went before. +They reached that flood, whose waters flee +With rapid current to the sea; +Their minds a while to thought they gave +And counselled how to cross the wave. +At length, with logs together laid, +A mighty raft the brothers made. +Then dry bamboos across were tied, +And grass was spread from side to side. +And the great hero Lakshman brought +Cane and Rose-Apple boughs and wrought, +Trimming the branches smooth and neat, +For Sítá's use a pleasant seat. +And Ráma placed thereon his dame +Touched with a momentary shame, +Resembling in her glorious mien +All-thought-surpassing Fortune's Queen. +Then Ráma hastened to dispose, +Each in its place, the skins and bows, +And by the fair Videhan laid +The coats, the ornaments, and spade. +When Sítá thus was set on board, +And all their gear was duly stored, +The heroes each with vigorous hand, +Pushed off the raft and left the land. +When half its way the raft had made, +Thus Sítá to Kálindí prayed: +"Goddess, whose flood I traverse now, +Grant that my lord may keep his vow. +For thee shall bleed a thousand kine, +A hundred jars shall pour their wine, +When Ráma sees that town again +Where old Ikshváku's children reign." + + Thus to Kálindí's stream she sued +And prayed in suppliant attitude. +Then to the river's bank the dame, +Fervent in supplication, came. +They left the raft that brought them o'er, +And the thick wood that clothed the shore, +And to the Fig-tree Syáma made +Their way, so cool with verdant shade. +Then Sítá viewed that best of trees, +And reverent spake in words like these: +"Hail, hail, O mighty tree! Allow +My husband to complete his vow; +Let us returning, I entreat, +Kausalyá and Sumitrá meet." +Then with her hands together placed +Around the tree she duly paced. +When Ráma saw his blameless spouse +A suppliant under holy boughs, +The gentle darling of his heart, +He thus to Lakshman spake apart: +"Brother, by thee our way be led; +Let Sítá close behind thee tread: +I, best of men, will grasp my bow, +And hindmost of the three will go. +What fruits soe'er her fancy take, +Or flowers half hidden in the brake, +For Janak's child forget not thou +To gather from the brake or bough." + + Thus on they fared. The tender dame +Asked Ráma, as they walked, the name +Of every shrub that blossoms bore, +Creeper, and tree unseen before: +And Lakshman fetched, at Sítá's prayer, +Boughs of each tree with clusters fair. +Then Janak's daughter joyed to see +The sand-discoloured river flee, +Where the glad cry of many a bird, +The sáras and the swan, was heard. +A league the brothers travelled through +The forest noble game they slew: +Beneath the trees their meal they dressed +And sat them down to eat and rest. +A while in that delightful shade +Where elephants unnumbered strayed, +Where peacocks screamed and monkeys played, +They wandered with delight. +Then by the river's side they found +A pleasant spot of level ground, +Where all was smooth and fair around, + Their lodging for the night. + + + + +Canto LVI. Chitrakúta + + +Then Ráma, when the morning rose, +Called Lakshman gently from repose: +"Awake, the pleasant voices hear +Of forest birds that warble near. +Scourge of thy foes, no longer stay; +The hour is come to speed away." + + The slumbering prince unclosed his eyes +When thus his brother bade him rise, +Compelling, at the timely cry, +Fatigue, and sleep, and rest to fly. +The brothers rose and Sítá too; +Pure water from the stream they drew, +Paid morning rites, then followed still +The road to Chitrakúta's hill. +Then Ráma as he took the road +With Lakshman, while the morning, glowed, +To the Videhan lady cried, +Sítá the fair, the lotus-eyed: +"Look round thee, dear; each flowery tree +Touched with the fire of morning see: +The Kinsuk, now the Frosts are fled,-- +How glorious with his wreaths of red! +The Bel-trees see, so loved of men, +Hanging their boughs in every glen. +O'erburthened with their fruit and flowers: +A plenteous store of food is ours. + See, Lakshman, in the leafy trees, + Where'er they make their home. + Down hangs, the work of labouring bees + The ponderous honeycomb. + In the fair wood before us spread + The startled wild-cock cries: + Hark, where the flowers are soft to tread, + The peacock's voice replies. + Where elephants are roaming free, + And sweet birds' songs are loud, + The glorious Chitrakúta see: + His peaks are in the cloud. + On fair smooth ground he stands displayed, + Begirt by many a tree: + O brother, in that holy shade + How happy shall we be!"(331) +Then Ráma, Lakshman, Sítá, each +Spoke raising suppliant hands this speech +To him, in woodland dwelling met, +Válmíki, ancient anchoret: +"O Saint, this mountain takes the mind, +With creepers, trees of every kind, +With fruit and roots abounding thus, +A pleasant life it offers us: +Here for a while we fain would stay, +And pass a season blithe and gay." + + Then the great saint, in duty trained, +With honour gladly entertained: +He gave his guests a welcome fair, +And bade them sit and rest them there, +Ráma of mighty arm and chest +His faithful Lakshman then addressed: +"Brother, bring hither from the wood +Selected timber strong and good, +And build therewith a little cot; +My heart rejoices in the spot +That lies beneath the mountain's side, +Remote, with water well supplied." + + Sumitrá's son his words obeyed, +Brought many a tree, and deftly made, +With branches in the forest cut, +As Ráma bade, a leafy hut. +Then Ráma, when the cottage stood +Fair, firmly built, and walled with wood, +To Lakshman spake, whose eager mind +To do his brother's will inclined: +"Now, Lakshman as our cot is made, +Must sacrifice be duly paid +By us, for lengthened life who hope, +With venison of the antelope. +Away, O bright-eyed Lakshman, speed: +Struck by thy bow a deer must bleed: +As Scripture bids, we must not slight +The duty that commands the rite." + + Lakshman, the chief whose arrows laid +His foemen low, his word obeyed; +And Ráma thus again addressed +The swift performer of his hest: +"Prepare the venison thou hast shot, +To sacrifice for this our cot. +Haste, brother dear, for this the hour, +And this the day of certain power." +Then glorious Lakshman took the buck +His arrow in the wood had struck; +Bearing his mighty load he came, +And laid it in the kindled flame. +Soon as he saw the meat was done, +And that the juices ceased to run +From the broiled carcass, Lakshman then +Spoke thus to Ráma best of men: +"The carcass of the buck, entire, +Is ready dressed upon the fire. +Now be the sacred rites begun +To please the God, thou godlike one." + + Ráma the good, in ritual trained, +Pure from the bath, with thoughts restrained, +Hasted those verses to repeat +Which make the sacrifice complete. +The hosts celestial came in view, +And Ráma to the cot withdrew, +While a sweet sense of rapture stole +Through the unequalled hero's soul. +He paid the Visvedevas(332) due. +And Rudra's right, and Vishnu's too, +Nor wonted blessings, to protect +Their new-built home, did he neglect. +With voice repressed he breathed the prayer, +Bathed duly in the river fair, +And gave good offerings that remove +The stain of sin, as texts approve. +And many an altar there he made, +And shrines, to suit the holy shade, +All decked with woodland chaplets sweet, +And fruit and roots and roasted meat, +With muttered prayer, as texts require, +Water, and grass and wood and fire. +So Ráma, Lakshman, Sítá paid +Their offerings to each God and shade, +And entered then their pleasant cot +That bore fair signs of happy lot. +They entered, the illustrious three, +The well-set cottage, fair to see, +Roofed with the leaves of many a tree, + And fenced from wind and rain: +So, at their Father Brahmá's call, +The Gods of heaven, assembling all, +To their own glorious council hall + Advance in shining train. +So, resting on that lovely hill, +Near the fair lily-covered rill, + The happy prince forgot, +Surrounded by the birds and deer, +The woe, the longing, and the fear + That gloom the exile's lot. + + + + +Canto LVII. Sumantra's Return. + + +When Ráma reached the southern bank, +King Guha's heart with sorrow sank: +He with Sumantra talked, and spent +With his deep sorrow, homeward went. +Sumantra, as the king decreed, +Yoked to the car each noble steed, +And to Ayodhyá's city sped +With his sad heart disquieted. +On lake and brook and scented grove +His glances fell, as on he drove: +City and village came in view +As o'er the road his coursers flew. +On the third day the charioteer, +When now the hour of night was near, +Came to Ayodhyá's gate, and found +The city all in sorrow drowned. +To him, in spirit quite cast down, +Forsaken seemed the silent town, +And by the rush of grief oppressed +He pondered in his mournful breast: +"Is all Ayodhyá burnt with grief, +Steed, elephant, and man, and chief? +Does her loved Ráma's exile so +Afflict her with the fires of woe?" +Thus as he mused, his steeds flew fast, +And swiftly through the gate he passed. +On drove the charioteer, and then +In hundreds, yea in thousands, men +Ran to the car from every side, +And, "Ráma, where is Ráma?" cried. +Sumantra said: "My chariot bore +The duteous prince to Gangá's shore; +I left him there at his behest, +And homeward to Ayodhyá pressed." +Soon as the anxious people knew +That he was o'er the flood they drew +Deep sighs, and crying, Ráma! all +Wailed, and big tears began to fall. +He heard the mournful words prolonged, +As here and there the people thronged: +"Woe, woe for us, forlorn, undone, +No more to look on Raghu's son! +His like again we ne'er shall see, +Of heart so true, of hand so free, +In gifts, in gatherings for debate, +When marriage pomps we celebrate, +What should we do? What earthly thing +Can rest, or hope, or pleasure bring?" + + Thus the sad town, which Ráma kept +As a kind father, wailed and wept. +Each mansion, as the car went by, +Sent forth a loud and bitter cry, +As to the window every dame, +Mourning for banished Ráma, came. +As his sad eyes with tears o'erflowed, +He sped along the royal road +To Dasaratha's high abode. +There leaping down his car he stayed; +Within the gates his way he made; +Through seven broad courts he onward hied +Where people thronged on every side. +From each high terrace, wild with woe, +The royal ladies flocked below: +He heard them talk in gentle tone, +As each for Ráma made her moan: +"What will the charioteer reply +To Queen Kausalyá's eager cry? +With Ráma from the gates he went; +Homeward alone, his steps are bent. +Hard is a life with woe distressed, +But difficult to win is rest, +If, when her son is banished, still +She lives beneath her load of ill." + + Such was the speech Sumantra heard +From them whom grief unfeigned had stirred. +As fires of anguish burnt him through, +Swift to the monarch's hall he drew, +Past the eighth court; there met his sight, +The sovereign in his palace bright, +Still weeping for his son, forlorn, +Pale, faint, and all with sorrow worn. +As there he sat, Sumantra bent +And did obeisance reverent, +And to the king repeated o'er +The message he from Ráma bore. +The monarch heard, and well-nigh brake +His heart, but yet no word he spake: +Fainting to earth he fell, and dumb, +By grief for Ráma overcome. +Rang through the hall a startling cry, +And women's arms were tossed on high, +When, with his senses all astray, +Upon the ground the monarch lay. +Kausalyá, with Sumitrá's aid, +Raised from the ground her lord dismayed: +"Sire, of high fate," she cried, "O, why +Dost thou no single word reply +To Ráma's messenger who brings +News of his painful wanderings? +The great injustice done, art thou +Shame-stricken for thy conduct now? +Rise up, and do thy part: bestow +Comfort and help in this our woe. +Speak freely, King; dismiss thy fear, +For Queen Kaikeyí stands not near, +Afraid of whom thou wouldst not seek +Tidings of Ráma: freely speak." + + When the sad queen had ended so, +She sank, insatiate in her woe, +And prostrate lay upon the ground, +While her faint voice by sobs was drowned. +When all the ladies in despair +Saw Queen Kausalyá wailing there, +And the poor king oppressed with pain, +They flocked around and wept again. + + + + +Canto LVIII. Ráma's Message. + + +The king a while had senseless lain, +When care brought memory back again. +Then straight he called, the news to hear +Of Ráma, for the charioteer, +With reverent hand to hand applied +He waited by the old man's side, +Whose mind with anguish was distraught +Like a great elephant newly caught. +The king with bitter pain distressed +The faithful charioteer addressed, +Who, sad of mien, with flooded eye, +And dust upon his limbs, stood by: +"Where will be Ráma's dwelling now +At some tree's foot, beneath the bough; +Ah, what will be the exile's food, +Bred up with kind solicitude? +Can he, long lapped in pleasant rest, +Unmeet for pain, by pain oppressed, +Son of earth's king, his sad night spend +Earth-couched, as one that has no friend? +Behind him, when abroad he sped, +Cars, elephant, and foot were led: +Then how shall Ráma dwell afar +In the wild woods where no men are? +How, tell me, did the princes there, +With Sítá good and soft and fair, +Alighting from the chariot, tread +The forest wilds around them spread? +A happy lot is thine, I ween, +Whose eyes my two dear sons have seen +Seeking on foot the forest shade, +Like the bright Twins to view displayed, +The heavenly Asvins, when they seek +The woods that hang 'neath Mandar's peak. +What words, Sumantra, quickly tell, +From Ráma, Lakshman, Sítá fell? +How in the wood did Ráma eat? +What was his bed, and what his seat? +Full answer to my questions give, +For I on thy replies shall live, +As with the saints Yayáti held +Sweet converse, from the skies expelled." + + Urged by the lord of men to speak, +Whose sobbing voice came faint and weak, +Thus he, while tears his utterance broke, +In answer to the monarch spoke: +"Hear then the words that Ráma said, +Resolved in duty's path to tread. +Joining his hands, his head he bent, +And gave this message, reverent: +"Sumantra, to my father go, +Whose lofty mind all people know: +Bow down before him, as is meet, +And in my stead salute his feet. +Then to the queen my mother bend, +And give the greeting that I send: +Ne'er may her steps from duty err, +And may it still be well with her. +And add this word: "O Queen, pursue +Thy vows with faithful heart and true; +And ever at due season turn +Where holy fires of worship burn. +And, lady, on our lord bestow +Such honour as to Gods we owe. +Be kind to every queen: let pride +And thought of self be cast aside. +In the king's fond opinion raise +Kaikeyí, by respect and praise. +Let the young Bharat ever be +Loved, honoured as the king by thee: +Thy king-ward duty ne'er forget: +High over all are monarchs set." + + And Bharat, too, for me address: +Pray that all health his life may bless. +Let every royal lady share, +As justice bids, his love and care. +Say to the strong-armed chief who brings +Joy to Iksváku's line of kings: +"As ruling prince thy care be shown +Of him, our sire, who holds the throne. +Stricken in years he feels their weight; +But leave him in his royal state. +As regent heir content thee still, +Submissive to thy father's will.' " +Ráma again his charge renewed, +As the hot flood his cheek bedewed: +"Hold as thine own my mother dear +Who drops for me the longing tear." +Then Lakshman, with his soul on fire, +Spake breathing fast these words of ire: +"Say, for what sin, for what offence +Was royal Ráma banished thence? +He is the cause, the king: poor slave +To the light charge Kaikeyí gave. +Let right or wrong the motive be, +The author of our woe is he. +Whether the exile were decreed +Through foolish faith or guilty greed, +For promises or empire, still +The king has wrought a grievous ill. +Grant that the Lord of all saw fit +To prompt the deed and sanction it, +In Ráma's life no cause I see +For which the king should bid him flee. +His blinded eyes refused to scan +The guilt and folly of the plan, +And from the weakness of the king +Here and hereafter woe shall spring. +No more my sire: the ties that used +To bind me to the king are loosed. +My brother Ráma, Raghu's son, +To me is lord, friend, sire in one. +The love of men how can he win, +Deserting, by the cruel sin, +Their joy, whose heart is swift to feel +A pleasure in the people's weal? +Shall he whose mandate could expel +The virtuous Ráma, loved so well, +To whom his subjects' fond hearts cling-- +Shall he in spite of them be king?" + + But Janak's child, my lord, stood by, +And oft the votaress heaved a sigh. +She seemed with dull and wandering sense, +Beneath a spirit's influence. +The noble princess, pained with woe +Which till that hour she ne'er could know, +Tears in her heavy trouble shed, +But not a word to me she said. +She raised her face which grief had dried +And tenderly her husband eyed, +Gazed on him as he turned to go +While tear chased tear in rapid flow." + + + + +Canto LIX. Dasaratha's Lament. + + +As thus Sumantra, best of peers, +Told his sad tale with many tears, +The monarch cried, "I pray thee, tell +At length again what there befell." +Sumantra, at the king's behest, +Striving with sobs he scarce repressed, +His trembling voice at last controlled, +And thus his further tidings told: +"Their locks in votive coils they wound, +Their coats of bark upon them bound, +To Gangá's farther shore they went, +Thence to Prayág their steps were bent. +I saw that Lakshman walked ahead +To guard the path the two should tread. +So far I saw, no more could learn, +Forced by the hero to return. +Retracing slow my homeward course, +Scarce could I move each stubborn horse: +Shedding hot tears of grief he stood +When Ráma turned him to the wood.(333) +As the two princes parted thence +I raised my hands in reverence, +Mounted my ready car, and bore +The grief that stung me to the core. +With Guha all that day I stayed, +Still by the earnest hope delayed +That Ráma, ere the time should end, +Some message from the wood might send. +Thy realms, great Monarch, mourn the blow, +And sympathize with Ráma's woe. +Each withering tree hangs low his head, +And shoot, and bud, and flower are dead. +Dried are the floods that wont to fill +The lake, the river, and the rill. +Drear is each grove and garden now, +Dry every blossom on the bough. +Each beast is still, no serpents crawl: +A lethargy of woe on all. +The very wood is silent: crushed +With grief for Ráma, all is hushed. +Fair blossoms from the water born, +Gay garlands that the earth adorn, +And every fruit that gleams like gold, +Have lost the scent that charmed of old. +Empty is every grove I see, +Or birds sit pensive on the tree. +Where'er I look, its beauty o'er, +The pleasance charms not as before. +I drove through fair Ayodhyá's street: +None flew with joy the car to meet. +They saw that Ráma was not there, +And turned them sighing in despair. +The people in the royal way +Wept tears of bitter grief, when they +Beheld me coming, from afar, +No Ráma with me in the car. +From palace roof and turret high +Each woman bent her eager eye; +She looked for Ráma, but in vain; +Gazed on the car and shrieked for pain. +Their long clear eyes with sorrow drowned +They, when this common grief was found, +Looked each on other, friend and foe, +In sympathy of levelling woe: +No shade of difference between +Foe, friend, or neutral, there was seen. +Without a joy, her bosom rent +With grief for Ráma's banishment, +Ayodhyá like the queen appears +Who mourns her son with many tears." + + He ended: and the king, distressed. +With sobbing voice that lord addressed: +"Ah me, by false Kaikeyí led, +Of evil race, to evil bred, +I took no counsel of the sage, +Nor sought advice from skill and age, +I asked no lord his aid to lend, +I called no citizen or friend. +Rash was my deed, bereft of sense +Slave to a woman's influence. +Surely, my lord, a woe so great +Falls on us by the will of Fate; +It lays the house of Raghu low, +For Destiny will have it so. +I pray thee, if I e'er have done +An act to please thee, yea, but one, +Fly, fly, and Ráma homeward lead: +My life, departing, counsels speed. +Fly, ere the power to bid I lack, +Fly to the wood: bring Ráma back. +I cannot live for even one +Short hour bereaved of my son. +But ah, the prince, whose arms are strong, +Has journeyed far: the way is long: +Me, me upon the chariot place, +And let me look on Ráma's face. +Ah me, my son, mine eldest-born, +Where roams he in the wood forlorn, +The wielder of the mighty bow, +Whose shoulders like the lion's show? +O, ere the light of life be dim, +Take me to Sítá and to him. +O Ráma, Lakshman, and O thou +Dear Sítá, constant to thy vow, +Beloved ones, you cannot know +That I am dying of my woe." + + The king to bitter grief a prey, +That drove each wandering sense away, +Sunk in affliction's sea, too wide +To traverse, in his anguish cried: +"Hard, hard to pass, my Queen, this sea +Of sorrow raging over me: +No Ráma near to soothe mine eye, +Plunged in its lowest deeps I lie. +Sorrow for Ráma swells the tide, +And Sítá's absence makes it wide: +My tears its foamy flood distain, +Made billowy by my sighs of pain: +My cries its roar, the arms I throw +About me are the fish below, +Kaikeyí is the fire that feeds +Beneath: my hair the tangled weeds: +Its source the tears for Ráma shed: +The hump-back's words its monsters dread: +The boon I gave the wretch its shore, +Till Ráma's banishment be o'er.(334) + Ah me, that I should long to set + My eager eyes to-day + On Raghu's son, and he be yet + With Lakshman far away!" + Thus he of lofty glory wailed, + And sank upon the bed. + Beneath the woe his spirit failed, + And all his senses fled. + + + + +Canto LX. Kausalyá Consoled. + + +As Queen Kausalyá, trembling much, +As blighted by a goblin's touch, +Still lying prostrate, half awoke +To consciousness, 'twas thus she spoke: +"Bear me away, Sumantra, far, +Where Ráma, Sítá, Lakshman are. +Bereft of them I have no power +To linger on a single hour. +Again, I pray, thy steps retrace, +And me in Dandak forest place, +For after them I needs must go, +Or sink to Yama's realms below." + + His utterance choked by tears that rolled +Down from their fountains uncontrolled, +With suppliant hands the charioteer +Thus spake, the lady's heart to cheer: +"Dismiss thy grief, despair, and dread +That fills thy soul, of sorrow bred, +For pain and anguish thrown aside, +Will Ráma in the wood abide. +And Lakshman, with unfailing care +Will guard the feet of Ráma there, +Earning, with governed sense, the prize +That waits on duty in the skies. +And Sítá in the wild as well +As in her own dear home will dwell; +To Ráma all her heart she gives, +And free from doubt and terror lives. +No faintest sign of care or woe +The features of the lady show: +Methinks Videha's pride was made +For exile in the forest shade. +E'en as of old she used to rove +Delighted in the city's grove, +Thus, even thus she joys to tread +The woodlands uninhabited. +Like a young child, her face as fair +As the young moon, she wanders there. +What though in lonely woods she stray +Still Ráma is her joy and stay: +All his the heart no sorrow bends, +Her very life on him depends. +For, if her lord she might not see, +Ayodhyá like the wood would be. +She bids him, as she roams, declare +The names of towns and hamlets there, +Marks various trees that meet her eye, +And many a brook that hurries by, +And Janak's daughter seems to roam +One little league away from home +When Ráma or his brother speaks +And gives the answer that she seeks. +This, Lady, I remember well, +Nor angry words have I to tell: +Reproaches at Kaikeyí shot, +Such, Queen, my mind remembers not." +The speech when Sítá's wrath was high, +Sumantra passed in silence by, +That so his pleasant words might cheer +With sweet report Kausalyá's ear. +"Her moonlike beauty suffers not +Though winds be rude and suns be hot: +The way, the danger, and the toil +Her gentle lustre may not soil. +Like the red lily's leafy crown +Or as the fair full moon looks down, +So the Videhan lady's face +Still shines with undiminished grace. +What if the borrowed colours throw +O'er her fine feet no rosy glow, +Still with their natural tints they spread +A lotus glory where they tread. +In sportive grace she walks the ground +And sweet her chiming anklets sound. +No jewels clasp the faultless limb: +She leaves them all for love of him. +If in the woods her gentle eye +A lion sees, or tiger nigh, +Or elephant, she fears no ill +For Ráma's arm supports her still. +No longer be their fate deplored, +Nor thine, nor that of Kosal's lord, +For conduct such as theirs shall buy +Wide glory that can never die. +For casting grief and care away, +Delighting in the forest, they +With joyful spirits, blithe and gay, +Set forward on the ancient way + Where mighty saints have led: +Their highest aim, their dearest care +To keep their father's honour fair, +Observing still the oath he sware, + They roam, on wild fruit fed." +Thus with persuasive art he tried +To turn her from her grief aside, + By soothing fancies won. +But still she gave her sorrow vent: +"Ah Ráma," was her shrill lament, + "My love, my son, my son!" + + + + +Canto LXI. Kausalyá's Lament. + + +When, best of all who give delight, +Her Ráma wandered far from sight, +Kausalyá weeping, sore distressed, +The king her husband thus addressed: +"Thy name, O Monarch, far and wide +Through the three worlds is glorified: +Yet Ráma's is the pitying mind, +His speed is true, his heart is kind. +How will thy sons, good lord, sustain +With Sítá, all their care and pain? +How in the wild endure distress, +Nursed in the lap of tenderness? +How will the dear Videhan bear +The heat and cold when wandering there +Bred in the bliss of princely state, +So young and fair and delicate? +The large-eyed lady, wont to eat +The best of finely seasoned meat-- +How will she now her life sustain +With woodland fare of self-sown grain? +Will she, with joys encompassed long, +Who loved the music and the song, +In the wild wood endure to hear +The ravening lion's voice of fear? +Where sleeps my strong-armed hero, where, +Like Lord Mahendra's standard, fair? +Where is, by Lakshman's side, his bed, +His club-like arm beneath his head? +When shall I see his flower-like eyes, +And face that with the lotus vies, +Feel his sweet lily breath, and view +His glorious hair and lotus hue? +The heart within my breast, I feel, +Is adamant or hardest steel, +Or, in a thousand fragments split, +The loss of him had shattered it, +When those I love, who should be blest, +Are wandering in the wood distressed, +Condemned their wretched lives to lead +In exile, by thy ruthless deed. +If, when the fourteen years are past, +Ráma reseeks his home at last, +I think not Bharat will consent +To yield the wealth and government. +At funeral feasts some mourners deal +To kith and kin the solemn meal, +And having duly fed them all +Some Bráhmans to the banquet call. +The best of Bráhmans, good and wise, +The tardy summoning despise, +And, equal to the Gods, disdain +Cups, e'en of Amrit, thus to drain. +Nay e'en when Bráhmans first have fed, +They loathe the meal for others spread, +And from the leavings turn with scorn, +As bulls avoid a fractured horn. +So Ráma, sovereign lord of men, +Will spurn the sullied kingship then: +He born the eldest and the best, +His younger's leavings will detest, +Turning from tasted food away, +As tigers scorn another's prey. +The sacred post is used not twice, +Nor elements, in sacrifice. +But once the sacred grass is spread, +But once with oil the flame is fed: +So Ráma's pride will ne'er receive +The royal power which others leave, +Like wine when tasteless dregs are left, +Or rites of Soma juice bereft. +Be sure the pride of Raghu's race +Will never stoop to such disgrace: +The lordly lion will not bear +That man should beard him in his lair. +Were all the worlds against him ranged +His dauntless soul were still unchanged: +He, dutiful, in duty strong, +Would purge the impious world from wrong. +Could not the hero, brave and bold, +The archer, with his shafts of gold, +Burn up the very seas, as doom +Will in the end all life consume? +Of lion's might, eyed like a bull, +A prince so brave and beautiful, +Thou hast with wicked hate pursued, +Like sea-born tribes who eat their brood. +If thou, O Monarch, hadst but known +The duty all the Twice-born own, +If the good laws had touched thy mind, +Which sages in the Scriptures find, +Thou ne'er hadst driven forth to pine +This brave, this duteous son of thine. +First on her lord the wife depends, +Next on her son and last on friends: +These three supports in life has she, +And not a fourth for her may be. +Thy heart, O King, I have not won; +In wild woods roams my banished son; +Far are my friends: ah, hapless me, +Quite ruined and destroyed by thee." + + + + +Canto LXII. Dasaratha Consoled. + + +The queen's stern speech the monarch heard, +As rage and grief her bosom stirred, +And by his anguish sore oppressed +Reflected in his secret breast. +Fainting and sad, with woe distraught, +He wandered in a maze of thought; +At length the queller of the foe +Grew conscious, rallying from his woe. +When consciousness returned anew +Long burning sighs the monarch drew, +Again immersed in thought he eyed +Kausalyá standing by his side. +Back to his pondering soul was brought +The direful deed his hand had wrought, +When, guiltless of the wrong intent, +His arrow at a sound was sent. +Distracted by his memory's sting, +And mourning for his son, the king +To two consuming griefs a prey, +A miserable victim lay. +The double woe devoured him fast, +As on the ground his eyes he cast, +Joined suppliant hands, her heart to touch, +And spake in the answer, trembling much: +"Kausalyá, for thy grace I sue, +Joining these hands as suppliants do. +Thou e'en to foes hast ever been +A gentle, good, and loving queen. +Her lord, with noble virtues graced, +Her lord, by lack of all debased, +Is still a God in woman's eyes, +If duty's law she hold and prize. +Thou, who the right hast aye pursued, +Life's changes and its chances viewed, +Shouldst never launch, though sorrow-stirred, +At me distressed, one bitter word." + + She listened, as with sorrow faint +He murmured forth his sad complaint: +Her brimming eyes with tears ran o'er, +As spouts the new fallen water pour; +His suppliant hands, with fear dismayed +She gently clasped in hers, and laid, +Like a fair lotus, on her head, +And faltering in her trouble said: +"Forgive me; at thy feet I lie, +With low bent head to thee I cry. +By thee besought, thy guilty dame +Pardon from thee can scarcely claim. +She merits not the name of wife +Who cherishes perpetual strife +With her own husband good and wise, +Her lord both here and in the skies. +I know the claims of duty well, +I know thy lips the truth must tell. +All the wild words I rashly spoke, +Forth from my heart, through anguish, broke; +For sorrow bends the stoutest soul, +And cancels Scripture's high control. +Yea, sorrow's might all else o'erthrows +The strongest and the worst of foes. +'Tis thus with all: we keenly feel, +Yet bear the blows our foemen deal, +But when a slender woe assails +The manliest spirit bends and quails. +The fifth long night has now begun +Since the wild woods have lodged my son: +To me whose joy is drowned in tears, +Each day a dreary year appears. +While all my thoughts on him are set +Grief at my heart swells wilder yet: +With doubled might thus Ocean raves +When rushing floods increase his waves." + + As from Kausalyá reasoning well +The gentle words of wisdom fell, +The sun went down with dying flame, +And darkness o'er the landscape came. +His lady's soothing words in part +Relieved the monarch's aching heart, +Who, wearied out by all his woes, +Yielded to sleep and took repose. + + + + +Canto LXIII. The Hermit's Son. + + +But soon by rankling grief oppressed +The king awoke from troubled rest, +And his sad heart was tried again +With anxious thought where all was pain. +Ráma and Lakshman's mournful fate +On Dasaratha, good and great +As Indra, pressed with crushing weight, +As when the demon's might assails +The Sun-God, and his glory pales. +Ere yet the sixth long night was spent, +Since Ráma to the woods was sent, +The king at midnight sadly thought +Of the old crime his hand had wrought, +And thus to Queen Kausalyá cried +Who still for Ráma moaned and sighed: +"If thou art waking, give, I pray, +Attention to the words I say. +Whate'er the conduct men pursue, +Be good or ill the acts they do, +Be sure, dear Queen, they find the meed +Of wicked or of virtuous deed. +A heedless child we call the man +Whose feeble judgment fails to scan +The weight of what his hands may do, +Its lightness, fault, and merit too. +One lays the Mango garden low, +And bids the gay Palásas grow: +Longing for fruit their bloom he sees, +But grieves when fruit should bend the trees. +Cut by my hand, my fruit-trees fell, +Palása trees I watered well. +My hopes this foolish heart deceive, +And for my banished son I grieve. +Kausalyá, in my youthful prime +Armed with my bow I wrought the crime, +Proud of my skill, my name renowned, +An archer prince who shoots by sound. +The deed this hand unwitting wrought +This misery on my soul has brought, +As children seize the deadly cup +And blindly drink the poison up. +As the unreasoning man may be +Charmed with the gay Palása tree, +I unaware have reaped the fruit +Of joying at a sound to shoot. +As regent prince I shared the throne, +Thou wast a maid to me unknown, +The early Rain-time duly came, +And strengthened love's delicious flame. +The sun had drained the earth that lay +All glowing 'neath the summer day, +And to the gloomy clime had fled +Where dwell the spirits of the dead.(335) +The fervent heat that moment ceased, +The darkening clouds each hour increased +And frogs and deer and peacocks all +Rejoiced to see the torrents fall. +Their bright wings heavy from the shower, +The birds, new-bathed, had scarce the power +To reach the branches of the trees +Whose high tops swayed beneath the breeze. +The fallen rain, and falling still, +Hung like a sheet on every hill, +Till, with glad deer, each flooded steep +Showed glorious as the mighty deep. +The torrents down its wooded side +Poured, some unstained, while others dyed +Gold, ashy, silver, ochre, bore +The tints of every mountain ore. +In that sweet time, when all are pleased, +My arrows and my bow I seized; +Keen for the chase, in field or grove, +Down Sarjú's bank my car I drove. +I longed with all my lawless will +Some elephant by night to kill, +Some buffalo that came to drink, +Or tiger, at the river's brink. +When all around was dark and still, +I heard a pitcher slowly fill, +And thought, obscured in deepest shade, +An elephant the sound had made. +I drew a shaft that glittered bright, +Fell as a serpent's venomed bite; +I longed to lay the monster dead, +And to the mark my arrow sped. +Then in the calm of morning, clear +A hermit's wailing smote my ear: +"Ah me, ah me," he cried, and sank, +Pierced by my arrow, on the bank. +E'en as the weapon smote his side, +I heard a human voice that cried: +"Why lights this shaft on one like me, +A poor and harmless devotee? +I came by night to fill my jar +From this lone stream where no men are. +Ah, who this deadly shaft has shot? +Whom have I wronged, and knew it not? +Why should a boy so harmless feel +The vengeance of the winged steel? +Or who should slay the guiltless son +Of hermit sire who injures none, +Who dwells retired in woods, and there +Supports his life on woodland fare? +Ah me, ah me, why am I slain, +What booty will the murderer gain? +In hermit coils I bind my hair, +Coats made of skin and bark I wear. +Ah, who the cruel deed can praise +Whose idle toil no fruit repays, +As impious as the wretch's crime +Who dares his master's bed to climb? +Nor does my parting spirit grieve +But for the life which thus I leave: +Alas, my mother and my sire,-- +I mourn for them when I expire. +Ah me, that aged, helpless pair, +Long cherished by my watchful care, +How will it be with them this day +When to the Five(336) I pass away? +Pierced by the self-same dart we die, +Mine aged mother, sire, and I. +Whose mighty hand, whose lawless mind +Has all the three to death consigned?" + + When I, by love of duty stirred, +That touching lamentation heard, +Pierced to the heart by sudden woe, +I threw to earth my shafts and bow. +My heart was full of grief and dread +As swiftly to the place I sped, +Where, by my arrow wounded sore, +A hermit lay on Sarjú's shore. +His matted hair was all unbound, +His pitcher empty on the ground, +And by the fatal arrow pained, +He lay with dust and gore distained. +I stood confounded and amazed: +His dying eyes to mine he raised, +And spoke this speech in accents stern, +As though his light my soul would burn: +"How have I wronged thee, King, that I +Struck by thy mortal arrow die? +The wood my home, this jar I brought, +And water for my parents sought. +This one keen shaft that strikes me through +Slays sire and aged mother too. +Feeble and blind, in helpless pain, +They wait for me and thirst in vain. +They with parched lips their pangs must bear, +And hope will end in blank despair. +Ah me, there seems no fruit in store +For holy zeal or Scripture lore, +Or else ere now my sire would know +That his dear son is lying low. +Yet, if my mournful fate he knew, +What could his arm so feeble do? +The tree, firm-rooted, ne'er may be +The guardian of a stricken tree. +Haste to my father, and relate +While time allows, my sudden fate, +Lest he consume thee as the fire +Burns up the forest, in his ire. +This little path, O King, pursue: +My father's cot thou soon wilt view. +There sue for pardon to the sage, +Lest he should curse thee in his rage. +First from the wound extract the dart +That kills me with its deadly smart, +E'en as the flushed impetuous tide +Eats through the river's yielding side." + + I feared to draw the arrow out, +And pondered thus in painful doubt: +"Now tortured by the shaft he lies, +But if I draw it forth he dies." +Helpless I stood, faint, sorely grieved: +The hermit's son my thought perceived; +As one o'ercome by direst pain +He scarce had strength to speak again. +With writhing limb and struggling breath, +Nearer and ever nearer death +"My senses undisturbed remain, +And fortitude has conquered pain: +Now from one tear thy soul be freed. +Thy hand has made a Bráhman bleed. +Let not this pang thy bosom wring: +No twice-born youth am I, O King, +For of a Vaisya sire I came, +Who wedded with a Súdra dame." + + These words the boy could scarcely say, +As tortured by the shaft he lay, +Twisting his helpless body round, +Then trembling senseless on the ground. +Then from his bleeding side I drew +The rankling shaft that pierced him through. +With death's last fear my face he eyed, +And, rich in store of penance, died." + + + + +Canto LXIV. Dasaratha's Death. + + +The son of Raghu to his queen +Thus far described the unequalled scene, +And, as the hermit's death he rued, +The mournful story thus renewed: +"The deed my heedless hand had wrought +Perplexed me with remorseful thought, +And all alone I pondered still +How kindly deed might salve the ill. +The pitcher from the ground I took, +And filled it from that fairest brook, +Then, by the path the hermit showed, +I reached his sainted sire's abode. +I came, I saw: the aged pair, +Feeble and blind, were sitting there, +Like birds with clipped wings, side by side, +With none their helpless steps to guide. +Their idle hours the twain beguiled +With talk of their returning child, +And still the cheering hope enjoyed, +The hope, alas, by me destroyed. +Then spoke the sage, as drawing near +The sound of footsteps reached his ear: +"Dear son, the water quickly bring; +Why hast thou made this tarrying? +Thy mother thirsts, and thou hast played, +And bathing in the brook delayed. +She weeps because thou camest not; +Haste, O my son, within the cot. +If she or I have ever done +A thing to pain thee, dearest son, +Dismiss the memory from thy mind: +A hermit thou, be good and kind. +On thee our lives, our all, depend: +Thou art thy friendless parents' friend. +The eyeless couple's eye art thou: +Then why so cold and silent now?" + + With sobbing voice and bosom wrung +I scarce could move my faltering tongue, +And with my spirit filled with dread +I looked upon the sage, and said, +While mind, and sense, and nerve I strung +To fortify my trembling tongue, +And let the aged hermit know +His son's sad fate, my fear and woe: +"High-minded Saint, not I thy child, +A warrior, Dasaratha styled. +I bear a grievous sorrow's weight +Born of a deed which good men hate. +My lord, I came to Sarjú's shore, +And in my hand my bow I bore +For elephant or beast of chase +That seeks by night his drinking place. +There from the stream a sound I heard +As if a jar the water stirred. +An elephant, I thought, was nigh: +I aimed, and let an arrow fly. +Swift to the place I made my way, +And there a wounded hermit lay +Gasping for breath: the deadly dart +Stood quivering in his youthful heart. +I hastened near with pain oppressed; +He faltered out his last behest. +And quickly, as he bade me do, +From his pierced side the shaft I drew. +I drew the arrow from the rent, +And up to heaven the hermit went, +Lamenting, as from earth he passed, +His aged parents to the last. +Thus, unaware, the deed was done: +My hand, unwitting, killed thy son. +For what remains, O, let me win +Thy pardon for my heedless sin." + + As the sad tale of sin I told +The hermit's grief was uncontrolled. +With flooded eyes, and sorrow-faint, +Thus spake the venerable saint: +I stood with hand to hand applied, +And listened as he spoke and sighed: +"If thou, O King, hadst left unsaid +By thine own tongue this tale of dread, +Thy head for hideous guilt accursed +Had in a thousand pieces burst. +A hermit's blood by warrior spilt, +In such a case, with purposed guilt, +Down from his high estate would bring +Even the thunder's mighty King. +And he a dart who conscious sends +Against the devotee who spends +His pure life by the law of Heaven-- +That sinner's head will split in seven. +Thou livest, for thy heedless hand +Has wrought a deed thou hast not planned, +Else thou and all of Raghu's line +Had perished by this act of thine. +Now guide us," thus the hermit said, +"Forth to the spot where he lies dead. +Guide us, this day, O Monarch, we +For the last time our son would see: +The hermit dress of skin he wore +Rent from his limbs distained with gore; +His senseless body lying slain, +His soul in Yama's dark domain." + + Alone the mourning pair I led, +Their souls with woe disquieted, +And let the dame and hermit lay +Their hands upon the breathless clay. +The father touched his son, and pressed +The body to his aged breast; +Then falling by the dead boy's side, +He lifted up his voice, and cried: + + "Hast thou no word, my child, to say? +No greeting for thy sire to-day? +Why art thou angry, darling? why +Wilt thou upon the cold earth lie? +If thou, my son, art wroth with me, +Here, duteous child, thy mother see. +What! no embrace for me, my son? +No word of tender love--not one? +Whose gentle voice, so soft and clear, +Soothing my spirit, shall I hear +When evening comes, with accents sweet +Scripture or ancient lore repeat? +Who, having fed the sacred fire, +And duly bathed, as texts require, +Will cheer, when evening rites are done, +The father mourning for his son? +Who will the daily meal provide +For the poor wretch who lacks a guide, +Feeding the helpless with the best +Berries and roots, like some dear guest? +How can these hands subsistence find +For thy poor mother, old and blind? +The wretched votaress how sustain, +Who mourns her child in ceaseless pain? +Stay yet a while, my darling, stay, +Nor fly to Yama's realm to-day. +To-morrow I thy sire and she +Who bare thee, child, will go with, thee.(337) +Then when I look on Yama, I +To great Vivasvat's son will cry: +"Hear, King of justice, and restore +Our child to feed us, I implore. +Lord of the world, of mighty fame, +Faithful and just, admit my claim, +And grant this single boon to free +My soul from fear, to one like me." +Because, my son, untouched by stain, +By sinful hands thou fallest slain, +Win, through thy truth, the sphere where those +Who die by hostile darts repose. +Seek the blest home prepared for all +The valiant who in battle fall, +Who face the foe and scorn to yield, +In glory dying on the field. +Rise to the heaven where Dhundhumár +And Nahush, mighty heroes, are, +Where Janamejay and the blest +Dilípa, Sagar, Saivya, rest: +Home of all virtuous spirits, earned +By fervent rites and Scripture learned: +By those whose sacred fires have glowed, +Whose liberal hands have fields bestowed: +By givers of a thousand cows, +By lovers of one faithful spouse: +By those who serve their masters well, +And cast away this earthly shell. +None of my race can ever know +The bitter pain of lasting woe. +But doomed to that dire fate is he +Whose guilty hand has slaughtered thee." + + Thus with wild tears the aged saint +Made many a time his piteous plaint, +Then with his wife began to shed +The funeral water for the dead. +But in a shape celestial clad, +Won by the merits of the lad, +The spirit from the body brake +And to the mourning parents spake: +"A glorious home in realms above +Rewards my care and filial love. +You, honoured parents, soon shall be +Partakers of that home with me." + + He spake, and swiftly mounting high, +With Indra near him, to the sky +On a bright car, with flame that glowed, +Sublime the duteous hermit rode. + + The father, with his consort's aid, +The funeral rites with water paid, +And thus his speech to me renewed +Who stood in suppliant attitude: +"Slay me this day, O, slay me, King, +For death no longer has a sting. +Childless am I: thy dart has done +To death my dear, my only son. +Because the boy I loved so well +Slain by thy heedless arrow fell, +My curse upon thy soul shall press +With bitter woe and heaviness. +I mourn a slaughtered child, and thou +Shalt feel the pangs that kill me now. +Bereft and suffering e'en as I, +So shalt thou mourn thy son, and die. +Thy hand unwitting dealt the blow +That laid a holy hermit low, +And distant, therefore, is the time +When thou shalt suffer for the crime. +The hour shall come when, crushed by woes +Like these I feel, thy life shall close: +A debt to pay in after days +Like his the priestly fee who pays." + + This curse on me the hermit laid, +Nor yet his tears and groans were stayed. +Then on the pyre their bodies cast +The pair; and straight to heaven they passed. +As in sad thought I pondered long +Back to my memory came the wrong +Done in wild youth, O lady dear, +When 'twas my boast to shoot by ear. +The deed has borne the fruit, which now +Hangs ripe upon the bending bough: +Thus dainty meats the palate please, +And lure the weak to swift disease. +Now on my soul return with dread +The words that noble hermit said, +That I for a dear son should grieve, +And of the woe my life should leave." + + Thus spake the king with many a tear; +Then to his wife he cried in fear: +"I cannot see thee, love; but lay +Thy gentle hand in mine, I pray. +Ah me, if Ráma touched me thus, +If once, returning home to us, +He bade me wealth and lordship give, +Then, so I think, my soul would live. +Unlike myself, unjust and mean +Have been my ways with him, my Queen, +But like himself is all that he, +My noble son, has done to me. +His son, though far from right he stray, +What prudent sire would cast away? +What banished son would check his ire, +Nor speak reproaches of his sire? +I see thee not: these eyes grow blind, +And memory quits my troubled mind. +Angels of Death are round me: they +Summon my soul with speed away. +What woe more grievous can there be, +That, when from light and life I flee, +I may not, ere I part, behold +My virtuous Ráma, true and bold? +Grief for my son, the brave and true, +Whose joy it was my will to do, +Dries up my breath, as summer dries +The last drop in the pool that lies. +Not men, but blessed Gods, are they +Whose eyes shall see his face that day; +See him, when fourteen years are past, +With earrings decked return at last. +My fainting mind forgets to think: +Low and more low my spirits sink. +Each from its seat, my senses steal: +I cannot hear, or taste, or feel. +This lethargy of soul o'ercomes +Each organ, and its function numbs: +So when the oil begins to fail, +The torch's rays grow faint and pale. +This flood of woe caused by this hand +Destroys me helpless and unmanned, +Resistless as the floods that bore +A passage through the river shore. +Ah Raghu's son, ah mighty-armed, +By whom my cares were soothed and charmed, +My son in whom I took delight, +Now vanished from thy father's sight! +Kausalyá, ah, I cannot see; +Sumitrá, gentle devotee! +Alas, Kaikeyí, cruel dame, +My bitter foe, thy father's shame!" + + Kausalyá and Sumitrá kept +Their watch beside him as he wept. +And Dasaratha moaned and sighed, +And grieving for his darling died. + + + + +Canto LXV. The Women's Lament. + + +And now the night had past away, +And brightly dawned another day; +The minstrels, trained to play and sing, +Flocked to the chamber of the king: +Bards, who their gayest raiment wore, +And heralds famed for ancient lore: +And singers, with their songs of praise, +Made music in their several ways. +There as they poured their blessings choice +And hailed their king with hand and voice, +Their praises with a swelling roar +Echoed through court and corridor. +Then as the bards his glory sang, +From beaten palms loud answer rang, +As glad applauders clapped their hands, +And told his deeds in distant lands. +The swelling concert woke a throng +Of sleeping birds to life and song: +Some in the branches of the trees, +Some caged in halls and galleries. +Nor was the soft string music mute; +The gentle whisper of the lute, +And blessings sung by singers skilled +The palace of the monarch filled. +Eunuchs and dames of life unstained, +Each in the arts of waiting trained, +Drew near attentive as before, +And crowded to the chamber door: +These skilful when and how to shed +The lustral stream o'er limb and head, +Others with golden ewers stood +Of water stained with sandal wood. +And many a maid, pure, young, and fair, +Her load of early offerings bare, +Cups of the flood which all revere, +And sacred things, and toilet gear. +Each several thing was duly brought +As rule of old observance taught, +And lucky signs on each impressed +Stamped it the fairest and the best. +There anxious, in their long array, +All waited till the shine of day: +But when the king nor rose nor spoke, +Doubt and alarm within them woke. +Forthwith the dames, by duty led, +Attendants on the monarch's bed, +Within the royal chamber pressed +To wake their master from his rest. +Skilled in the lore of dreaming, they +First touched the bed on which he lay. +But none replied; no sound was heard, +Nor hand, nor head, nor body stirred. +They trembled, and their dread increased, +Fearing his breath of life had ceased, +And bending low their heads, they shook +Like the tall reeds that fringe the brook. +In doubt and terror down they knelt, +Looked on his face, his cold hand felt, +And then the gloomy truth appeared +Of all their hearts had darkly feared. +Kausalyá and Sumitrá, worn +With weeping for their sons, forlorn, +Woke not, but lay in slumber deep +And still as death's unending sleep. +Bowed down by grief, her colour fled, +Her wonted lustre dull and dead, +Kausalyá shone not, like a star +Obscured behind a cloudy bar. +Beside the king's her couch was spread, +And next was Queen Sumitrá's bed, +Who shone no more with beauty's glow, +Her face bedewed with tears of woe. +There lapped in sleep each wearied queen, +There as in sleep, the king was seen; +And swift the troubling thought came o'er +Their spirits that he breathed no more. +At once with wailing loud and high +The matrons shrieked a bitter cry, +As widowed elephants bewail +Their dead lord in the woody vale. +At the loud shriek that round them rang, +Kausalyá and Sumitrá sprang +Awakened from their beds, with eyes +Wide open in their first surprise. +Quick to the monarch's side they came, +And saw and touched his lifeless frame; +One cry, O husband! forth they sent, +And prostrate to the ground they went. +The king of Kosal's daughter(338) there +Writhed, with the dust on limb and hair +Lustreless, as a star might lie +Hurled downward from the glorious sky. +When the king's voice in death was stilled, +The women who the chamber filled +Saw, like a widow elephant slain, +Kausalyá prostrate in her pain. +Then all the monarch's ladies led +By Queen Kaikeyí at their head, +Poured forth their tears, and weeping so, +Sank on the ground, consumed by woe. +The cry of grief so long and loud +Went up from all the royal crowd, +That, doubled by the matron train, +It made the palace ring again. +Filled with dark fear and eager eyes, +Anxiety and wild surmise; +Echoing with the cries of grief +Of sorrowing friends who mourned their chief, +Dejected, pale with deep distress, +Hurled from their height of happiness: +Such was the look the palace wore +Where lay the king who breathed no more. + + + + +Canto LXVI. The Embalming. + + +Kausalyá's eyes with tears o'erflowed, +Weighed down by varied sorrows' load; +On her dead lord her gaze she bent, +Who lay like fire whose might is spent, +Like the great deep with waters dry, +Or like the clouded sun on high. +Then on her lap she laid his head. +And on Kaikeyí looked and said: +"Triumphant now enjoy thy reign +Without a thorn thy side to pain. +Thou hast pursued thy single aim, +And killed the king, O wicked dame. +Far from my sight my Ráma flies, +My perished lord has sought the skies. +No friend, no hope my life to cheer, +I cannot tread the dark path here. +Who would forsake her husband, who +That God to whom her love is due, +And wish to live one hour, but she +Whose heart no duty owns, like thee? +The ravenous sees no fault: his greed +Will e'en on poison blindly feed. +Kaikeyí, through a hump-back maid, +This royal house in death has laid. +King Janak, with his queen, will hear +Heart rent like me the tidings drear +Of Ráma banished by the king, +Urged by her impious counselling. +No son has he, his age is great, +And sinking with the double weight, +He for his darling child will pine, +And pierced with woe his life resign. +Sprung from Videha's monarch, she +A sad and lovely devotee, +Roaming the wood, unmeet for woe, +Will toil and trouble undergo. +She in the gloomy night with fear +The cries of beast and bird will hear, +And trembling in her wild alarm +Will cling to Ráma's sheltering arm. +Ah, little knows my duteous son +That I am widowed and undone-- +My Ráma of the lotus eye, +Gone hence, gone hence, alas, to die. +Now, as a living wife and true, +I, e'en this day, will perish too: +Around his form these arms will throw +And to the fire with him will go." + + Clasping her husband's lifeless clay +A while the weeping votaress lay, +Till chamberlains removed her thence +O'ercome by sorrow's violence. +Then in a cask of oil they laid +Him who in life the world had swayed, +And finished, as the lords desired, +All rites for parted souls required. +The lords, all-wise, refused to burn +The monarch ere his son's return; +So for a while the corpse they set +Embalmed in oil, and waited yet. +The women heard: no doubt remained, +And wildly for the king they plained. +With gushing tears that drowned each eye +Wildly they waved their arms on high, +And each her mangling nails impressed +Deep in her head and knee and breast: +"Of Ráma reft,--who ever spake +The sweetest words the heart to take, +Who firmly to the truth would cling,-- +Why dost thou leave us, mighty King? +How can the consorts thou hast left +Widowed, of Raghu's son bereft, +Live with our foe Kaikeyí near, +The wicked queen we hate and fear? +She threw away the king, her spite +Drove Ráma forth and Lakshman's might, +And gentle Sítá: how will she +Spare any, whosoe'er it be?" + + Oppressed with sorrow, tear-distained, +The royal women thus complained. +Like night when not a star appears, +Like a sad widow drowned in tears, +Ayodhyá's city, dark and dim, +Reft of her lord was sad for him. +When thus for woe the king to heaven had fled, + And still on earth his lovely wives remained. +With dying light the sun to rest had sped, + And night triumphant o'er the landscape reigned. + + + + +Canto LXVII. The Praise Of Kings. + + +That night of sorrow passed away, +And rose again the God of Day. +Then all the twice-born peers of state +Together met for high debate. +Jáválí, lord of mighty fame. +And Gautam, and Kátyáyan came, +And Márkandeya's reverend age, +And Vámadeva, glorious sage: +Sprung from Mudgalya's seed the one, +The other ancient Kasyap's son. +With lesser lords these Bráhmans each +Spoke in his turn his several speech, +And turning to Vasishtha, best +Of household priests him thus addressed: +"The night of bitter woe has past, +Which seemed a hundred years to last, +Our king, in sorrow for his son, +Reunion with the Five has won. +His soul is where the blessed are, +While Ráma roams in woods afar, +And Lakshman, bright in glorious deeds, +Goes where his well-loved brother leads. +And Bharat and Satrughna, they +Who smite their foes in battle fray, +Far in the realm of Kekaya stay, +Where their maternal grandsire's care +Keeps Rájagriha's city fair. +Let one of old Ikshváku's race +Obtain this day the sovereign's place, +Or havoc and destruction straight +Our kingless land will devastate. +In kingless lands no thunder's voice, +No lightning wreaths the heart rejoice, +Nor does Parjanya's heavenly rain +Descend upon the burning plain. +Where none is king, the sower's hand +Casts not the seed upon the land; +The son against the father strives. +And husbands fail to rule their wives. +In kingless realms no princes call +Their friends to meet in crowded hall; +No joyful citizens resort +To garden trim or sacred court. +In kingless realms no Twice-born care +To sacrifice with text and prayer, +Nor Bráhmans, who their vows maintain, +The great solemnities ordain. +The joys of happier days have ceased: +No gathering, festival, or feast +Together calls the merry throng +Delighted with the play and song. +In kingless lands it ne'er is well +With sons of trade who buy and sell: +No men who pleasant tales repeat +Delight the crowd with stories sweet. +In kingless realms we ne'er behold +Young maidens decked with gems and gold, +Flock to the gardens blithe and gay +To spend their evening hours in play. +No lover in the flying car +Rides with his love to woods afar. +In kingless lands no wealthy swain +Who keeps the herd and reaps the grain, +Lies sleeping, blest with ample store, +Securely near his open door. +Upon the royal roads we see +No tusked elephant roaming free, +Of three-score years, whose head and neck +Sweet tinkling bells of silver deck. +We hear no more the glad applause +When his strong bow each rival draws, +No clap of hands, no eager cries +That cheer each martial exercise. +In kingless realms no merchant bands +Who travel forth to distant lands, +With precious wares their wagons load, +And fear no danger on the road. +No sage secure in self-control, +Brooding on God with mind and soul, +In lonely wanderings finds his home +Where'er at eve his feet may roam. +In kingless realms no man is sure +He holds his life and wealth secure. +In kingless lands no warriors smite +The foeman's host in glorious fight. +In kingless lands the wise no more, +Well trained in Scripture's holy lore, +In shady groves and gardens meet +To argue in their calm retreat. +No longer, in religious fear, +Do they who pious vows revere, +Bring dainty cates and wreaths of flowers +As offerings to the heavenly powers. +No longer, bright as trees in spring, +Shine forth the children of the king +Resplendent in the people's eyes +With aloe wood and sandal dyes. +A brook where water once has been, +A grove where grass no more is green, +Kine with no herdsman's guiding hand-- +So wretched is a kingless land. +The car its waving banner rears, +Banner of fire the smoke appears: +Our king, the banner of our pride, +A God with Gods is glorified. +In kingless lands no law is known, +And none may call his wealth his own, +Each preys on each from hour to hour, +As fish the weaker fish devour. +Then fearless, atheists overleap +The bounds of right the godly keep, +And when no royal powers restrain, +Preëminence and lordship gain. +As in the frame of man the eye +Keeps watch and ward, a careful spy, +The monarch in his wide domains +Protects the truth, the right maintains. +He is the right, the truth is he, +Their hopes in him the well-born see. +On him his people's lives depend, +Mother is he, and sire, and friend. +The world were veiled in blinding night, +And none could see or know aright, +Ruled there no king in any state +The good and ill to separate. +We will obey thy word and will +As if our king were living still: +As keeps his bounds the faithful sea, +So we observe thy high decree. +O best of Bráhmans, first in place, + Our kingless land lies desolate: +Some scion of Ikshváku's race + Do thou as monarch consecrate." + + + + +Canto LXVIII. The Envoys. + + +Vasishtha heard their speech and prayer, +And thus addressed the concourse there, +Friends, Bráhmans, counsellors, and all +Assembled in the palace hall: +"Ye know that Bharat, free from care, +Still lives in Rájagriha(339) where +The father of his mother reigns: +Satrughna by his side remains. +Let active envoys, good at need, +Thither on fleetest horses speed, +To bring the hero youths away: +Why waste the time in dull delay?" + + Quick came from all the glad reply: +"Vasishtha, let the envoys fly!" +He heard their speech, and thus renewed +His charge before the multitude: +"Nandan, Asok, Siddhárth, attend, +Your ears, Jayanta, Vijay, lend: +Be yours, what need requires, to do: +I speak these words to all of you. +With coursers of the fleetest breed +To Rájagriha's city speed. +Then rid your bosoms of distress, +And Bharat thus from me address: +"The household priest and peers by us +Send health to thee and greet thee thus: +Come to thy father's home with haste: +Thine absent time no longer waste." +But speak no word of Ráma fled, +Tell not the prince his sire is dead, +Nor to the royal youth the fate +That ruins Raghu's race relate. +Go quickly hence, and with you bear +Fine silken vestures rich and rare, +And gems and many a precious thing +As gifts to Bharat and the king." + + With ample stores of food supplied, +Each to his home the envoys hied, +Prepared, with steeds of swiftest race, +To Kekaya's land(340) their way to trace. +They made all due provision there, +And every need arranged with care, +Then ordered by Vasishtha, they +Went forth with speed upon their way. +Then northward of Pralamba, west +Of Apartála, on they pressed, +Crossing the Máliní that flowed +With gentle stream athwart the road. +They traversed Gangá's holy waves +Where she Hástinapura(341) laves, +Thence to Panchála(342) westward fast +Through Kurujángal's land(343) they passed. +On, on their course the envoys held +By urgency of task impelled. +Quick glancing at each lucid flood +And sweet lake gay with flower and bud. +Beyond, they passed unwearied o'er, +Where glad birds fill the flood and shore +Of Saradandá racing fleet +With heavenly water clear and sweet, +Thereby a tree celestial grows +Which every boon on prayer bestows: +To its blest shade they humbly bent, +Then to Kulingá's town they went. +Then, having passed the Warrior's Wood, +In Abhikála next they stood, +O'er sacred Ikshumatí(344) came, +Their ancient kings' ancestral claim. +They saw the learned Bráhmans stand, +Each drinking from his hollowed hand, +And through Báhíka(345) journeying still +They reached at length Sudáman's hill: +There Vishnu's footstep turned to see, +Vipásá(346) viewed, and Sálmalí, +And many a lake and river met, +Tank, pool, and pond, and rivulet. +And lions saw, and tigers near, +And elephants and herds of deer, +And still, by prompt obedience led, +Along the ample road they sped. +Then when their course so swift and long, +Had worn their steeds though fleet and strong, +To Girivraja's splendid town +They came by night, and lighted down. +To please their master, and to guard + The royal race, the lineal right, + The envoys, spent with riding hard, + To that fair city came by night.(347) + + + + +Canto LXIX. Bharat's Dream. + + +The night those messengers of state +Had past within the city's gate, +In dreams the slumbering Bharat saw +A sight that chilled his soul with awe. +The dream that dire events foretold +Left Bharat's heart with horror cold, +And with consuming woes distraught, +Upon his aged sire he thought. +His dear companions, swift to trace +The signs of anguish on his face, +Drew near, his sorrow to expel, +And pleasant tales began to tell. +Some woke sweet music's cheering sound, +And others danced in lively round. +With joke and jest they strove to raise +His spirits, quoting ancient plays; +But Bharat still, the lofty-souled, +Deaf to sweet tales his fellows told, +Unmoved by music, dance, and jest, +Sat silent, by his woe oppressed. +To him, begirt by comrades near, +Thus spoke the friend he held most dear: +"Why ringed around by friends, art thou +So silent and so mournful now?" +"Hear thou," thus Bharat made reply, +"What chills my heart and dims mine eye. +I dreamt I saw the king my sire +Sink headlong in a lake of mire +Down from a mountain high in air, +His body soiled, and loose his hair. +Upon the miry lake he seemed +To lie and welter, as I dreamed; +With hollowed hands full many a draught +Of oil he took, and loudly laughed. +With head cast down I saw him make +A meal on sesamum and cake; +The oil from every member dripped, +And in its clammy flood he dipped. +The ocean's bed was bare and dry, +The moon had fallen from the sky, +And all the world lay still and dead, +With whelming darkness overspread. +The earth was rent and opened wide, +The leafy trees were scorched, and died; +I saw the seated mountains split, +And wreaths of rising smoke emit. +The stately beast the monarch rode +His long tusks rent and splintered showed; +And flames that quenched and cold had lain +Blazed forth with kindled light again. +I looked, and many a handsome dame, +Arrayed in brown and sable came +And bore about the monarch, dressed, +On iron stool, in sable vest. +And then the king, of virtuous mind, +A blood-red wreath around him twined, +Forth on an ass-drawn chariot sped, +As southward still he bent his head. +Then, crimson-clad, a dame appeared +Who at the monarch laughed and jeered; +And a she-monster, dire to view, +Her hand upon his body threw. +Such is the dream I dreamt by night, +Which chills me yet with wild affright: +Either the king or Ráma, I +Or Lakshman now must surely die. +For when an ass-drawn chariot seems +To bear away a man in dreams, +Be sure above his funeral pyre +The smoke soon rears its cloudy spire. +This makes my spirit low and weak, +My tongue is slow and loth to speak: +My lips and throat are dry for dread, +And all my soul disquieted. +My lips, relaxed, can hardly speak, +And chilling dread has changed my cheek +I blame myself in aimless fears, +And still no cause of blame appears. +I dwell upon this dream of ill + Whose changing scenes I viewed, + And on the startling horror still + My troubled thoughts will brood. + Still to my soul these terrors cling, + Reluctant to depart, + And the strange vision of the king + Still weighs upon my heart." + + + + +Canto LXX. Bharat's Departure. + + +While thus he spoke, the envoys borne +On horses faint and travel-worn +Had gained the city fenced around +With a deep moat's protecting bound. +An audience of the king they gained, +And honours from the prince obtained; +The monarch's feet they humbly pressed, +To Bharat next these words addressed: +"The household priest and peers by us +Send health to thee and greet thee thus: +"Come to thy father's house with haste: +Thine absent time no longer waste." +Receive these vestures rich and rare, +These costly gems and jewels fair, +And to thy uncle here present +Each precious robe and ornament. +These for the king and him suffice-- +Two hundred millions is their price-- +These, worth a hundred millions, be +Reserved, O large-eyed Prince, for thee." + + Loving his friends with heart and soul, +The joyful prince received the whole, +Due honour to the envoys paid, +And thus in turn his answer made: +"Of Dasaratha tidings tell: +Is the old king my father well? +Is Ráma, and is Lakshman, he +Of the high-soul, from sickness free? +And she who walks where duty leads, +Kausalyá, known for gracious deeds, +Mother of Ráma, loving spouse, +Bound to her lord by well kept vows? +And Lakshman's mother too, the dame +Sumitrá skilled in duty's claim, +Who brave Satrughna also bare, +Second in age,--her health declare. +And she, in self-conceit most sage, +With selfish heart most prone to rage, +My mother, fares she well? has she +Sent message or command to me?" + + Thus Bharat spake, the mighty-souled, +And they in brief their tidings told: +"All they of whom thou askest dwell, +O lion lord, secure and well: +Thine all the smiles of fortune are: +Make ready; let them yoke the car." + + Thus by the royal envoys pressed, +Bharat again the band addressed: +"I go with you: no long delay, +A single hour I bid you stay." +Thus Bharat, son of him who swayed +Ayodhyás realm, his answer made, +And then bespoke, his heart to please, +His mother's sire in words like these: +"I go to see my father, King, +Urged by the envoys' summoning; +And when thy soul desires to see +Thy grandson, will return to thee." + + The king his grandsire kissed his head, +And in reply to Bharat said: +"Go forth, dear child: how blest is she, +The mother of a son like thee! +Greet well thy sire, thy mother greet, +O thou whose arms the foe defeat; +The household priest, and all the rest +Amid the Twice-born chief and best; +And Ráma and brave Lakshman, who +Shoot the long shaft with aim so true." + + To him the king high honour showed, +And store of wealth and gifts bestowed, +The choicest elephants to ride, +And skins and blankets deftly dyed, +A thousand strings of golden beads, +And sixteen hundred mettled steeds: +And boundless wealth before him piled +Gave Kekaya to Kaikeyí's child. +And men of counsel, good and tried, +On whose firm truth he aye relied, +King Asvapati gave with speed +Prince Bharat on his way to lead. +And noble elephants, strong and young, +From sires of Indrasira sprung, +And others tall and fair to view +Of great Airávat's lineage true: +And well yoked asses fleet of limb +The prince his uncle gave to him. +And dogs within the palace bred, +Of body vast and massive head, +With mighty fangs for battle, brave, +The tiger's match in strength, he gave. +Yet Bharat's bosom hardly glowed +To see the wealth the king bestowed; +For he would speed that hour away, +Such care upon his bosom lay: +Those eager envoys urged him thence, +And that sad vision's influence. +He left his court-yard, crowded then +With elephants and steeds and men, +And, peerless in immortal fame, +To the great royal street he came. +He saw, as farther still he went, +The inner rooms most excellent, +And passed the doors, to him unclosed, +Where check nor bar his way oppossd. +There Bharat stayed to bid adieu +To grandsire and to uncle too, +Then, with Satrughna by his side, +Mounting his car, away he hied. +The strong-wheeled cars were yoked, and they +More than a hundred, rolled away: +Servants, with horses, asses, kine, +Followed their lord in endless line. +So, guarded by his own right hand, + Forth high-souled Bharat hied, +Surrounded by a lordly band + On whom the king relied. +Beside him sat Satrughna dear, + The scourge of trembling foes: +Thus from the light of Indra's sphere + A saint made perfect goes. + + + + +Canto LXXI. Bharat's Return. + + +Then Bharat's face was eastward bent +As from the royal town he went. +He reached Sudámá's farther side, +And glorious, gazed upon the tide; +Passed Hládiní, and saw her toss +Her westering billows hard to cross. +Then old Ikshváku's famous son +O'er Satadrú(348) his passage won, +Near Ailadhána on the strand, +And came to Aparparyat's land. +O'er Silá's flood he hurried fast, +Akurvatí's fair stream he passed, +Crossed o'er Ágneya's rapid rill, +And Salyakartan onward still. +Silávahá's swift stream he eyed, +True to his vows and purified, +Then crossed the lofty hills, and stood +In Chaitraratha's mighty wood. +He reached the confluence where meet +Sarasvatí(349) and Gangá fleet, +And through Bhárunda forest, spread +Northward of Viramatsya, sped. +He sought Kálinda's child, who fills +The soul with joy, begirt by hills, +Reached Yamuná, and passing o'er, +Rested his army on the shore: +He gave his horses food and rest, +Bathed reeking limb and drooping crest. +They drank their fill and bathed them there, +And water for their journey bare. +Thence through a mighty wood he sped +All wild and uninhabited, +As in fair chariot through the skies, +Most fair in shape a Storm-God flies. +At Ansudhána Gangá, hard +To cross, his onward journey barred, +So turning quickly thence he came +To Prágvat's city dear to fame. +There having gained the farther side +To Kutikoshtiká he hied: +The stream he crossed, and onward then +To Dharmavardhan brought his men. +Thence, leaving Toran on the north, +To Jambuprastha journeyed forth. +Then onward to a pleasant grove +By fair Varútha's town he drove, +And when a while he there had stayed, +Went eastward from the friendly shade. +Eastward of Ujjiháná where +The Priyak trees are tall and fair, +He passed, and rested there each steed +Exhausted with the journey's speed. +There orders to his men addressed, +With quickened pace he onward pressed, +A while at Sarvatírtha spent, +Then o'er Uttániká he went. +O'er many a stream beside he sped +With coursers on the mountains bred, +And passing Hastiprishthak, took +The road o'er Kutiká's fair brook. +Then, at Lohitya's village, he +Crossed o'er the swift Kapívatí, +Then passed, where Ekasála stands, +The Sthánumatí's flood and sands, +And Gomatí of fair renown +By Vinata's delightful town. +When to Kalinga near he drew, +A wood of Sal trees charmed the view; +That passed, the sun began to rise, +And Bharat saw with happy eyes, +Ayodhyá's city, built and planned +By ancient Manu's royal hand. +Seven nights upon the road had passed, +And when he saw the town at last +Before him in her beauty spread, +Thus Bharat to the driver said: +"This glorious city from afar, +Wherein pure groves and gardens are, +Seems to my eager eyes to-day +A lifeless pile of yellow clay. +Through all her streets where erst a throng +Of men and women streamed along, +Uprose the multitudinous roar: +To-day I hear that sound no more. +No longer do mine eyes behold +The leading people, as of old, +On elephants, cars, horses, go +Abroad and homeward, to and fro. +The brilliant gardens, where we heard +The wild note of each rapturous bird, +Where men and women loved to meet, +In pleasant shades, for pastime sweet,-- +These to my eyes this day appear +Joyless, and desolate, and drear: +Each tree that graced the garden grieves, +And every path is spread with leaves. +The merry cry of bird and beast, +That spake aloud their joy, has ceased: +Still is the long melodious note +That charmed us from each warbling throat. +Why blows the blessed air no more, +The incense-breathing air that bore +Its sweet incomparable scent +Of sandal and of aloe blent? +Why are the drum and tabour mute? +Why is the music of the lute +That woke responsive to the quill, +Loved by the happy, hushed and still? +My boding spirit gathers hence +Dire sins of awful consequence, +And omens, crowding on my sight, +Weigh down my soul with wild affright. +Scarce shall I find my friends who dwell +Here in Ayodhyá safe and well: +For surely not without a cause +This crushing dread my soul o'erawes." + + Heart sick, dejected, every sense +Confused by terror's influence, +On to the town he quickly swept +Which King Ikshváku's children kept. +He passed through Vaijayanta's gate, +With weary steeds, disconsolate, +And all who near their station held, +His escort, crying Victory, swelled, +With heart distracted still he bowed +Farewell to all the following crowd, +Turned to the driver and began +To question thus the weary man: +"Why was I brought, O free from blame, +So fast, unknown for what I came? +Yet fear of ill my heart appals, +And all my wonted courage falls. +For I have heard in days gone by +The changes seen when monarchs die; +And all those signs, O charioteer, +I see to-day surround me here: +Each kinsman's house looks dark and grim, +No hand delights to keep it trim: +The beauty vanished, and the pride, +The doors, unkept, stand open wide. +No morning rites are offered there, +No grateful incense loads the air, +And all therein, with brows o'ercast, +Sit joyless on the ground and fast. +Their lovely chaplets dry and dead, +Their courts unswept, with dust o'erspread, +The temples of the Gods to-day +No more look beautiful and gay. +Neglected stands each holy shrine, +Each image of a Lord divine. +No shop where flowery wreaths are sold +Is bright and busy as of old. +The women and the men I mark +Absorbed in fancies dull and dark, +Their gloomy eyes with tears bedewed, +A poor afflicted multitude." + + His mind oppressed with woe and dread, +Thus Bharat to his driver said, +Viewed the dire signs Ayodhyá showed, +And onward to the palace rode. + + + + +Canto LXXII. Bharat's Inquiry. + + +He entered in, he looked around, +Nor in the house his father found; +Then to his mother's dwelling, bent +To see her face, he quickly went. +She saw her son, so long away, +Returning after many a day, +And from her golden seat in joy +Sprung forward to her darling boy. +Within the bower, no longer bright, +Came Bharat lover of the right, +And bending with observance sweet +Clasped his dear mother's lovely feet. +Long kisses on his brow she pressed, +And held her hero to her breast, +Then fondly drew him to her knees, +And questioned him in words like these: +"How many nights have fled, since thou +Leftest thy grandsire's home, till now? +By flying steeds so swiftly borne, +Art thou not weak and travel-worn? +How fares the king my father, tell: +Is Yudhájit thine uncle well? +And now, my son, at length declare +The pleasure of the visit there." + + Thus to the offspring of the king +She spake with tender questioning, +And to his mother made reply +Young Bharat of the lotus eye: +"The seventh night has come and fled +Since from my grandsire's home I sped: +My mother's sire is well, and he, +Yudhájit, from all trouble free. +The gold and every precious thing +Presented by the conqueror king, +The slower guards behind convey: +I left them weary on the way. +Urged by the men my father sent, +My hasty course I hither bent: +Now, I implore, an answer deign, +And all I wish to know, explain. +Unoccupied I now behold +This couch of thine adorned with gold, +And each of King Ikshváku's race +Appears with dark and gloomy face. +The king is aye, my mother dear, +Most constant in his visits here. +To meet my sire I sought this spot: +How is it that I find him not? +I long to clasp my father's feet: +Say where he lingers, I entreat. +Perchance the monarch may be seen +Where dwells Kausalyá, eldest queen." + + His father's fate, from him concealed, +Kaikeyí to her son revealed: +Told as glad news the story sad, +For lust of sway had made her mad: +"Thy father, O my darling, know, +Has gone the way all life must go: +Devout and famed, of lofty thought, +In whom the good their refuge sought." + + When Bharat pious, pure, and true, +Heard the sad words which pierced him through, +Grieved for the sire he loved so well +Prostrate upon the ground he fell: +Down fell the strong-armed hero, high +Tossing his arms, and a sad cry, +"Ah, woe is me, unhappy, slain!" +Burst from his lips again, again, +Afflicted for his father's fate +By grief's intolerable weight, +With every sense amazed and cowed +The splendid hero wailed aloud: +"Ah me, my royal father's bed +Of old a gentle radiance shed, +Like the pure sky when clouds are past, +And the moon's light is o'er it cast: +Ah, of its wisest lord bereft, +It shows to-day faint radiance left, +As when the moon has left the sky. +Or mighty Ocean's depths are dry." + + With choking sobs, with many a tear, +Pierced to the heart with grief sincere, +The best of conquerors poured his sighs, +And with his robe veiled face and eyes. +Kaikeyí saw him fallen there, +Godlike, afflicted, in despair, +Used every art to move him thence, +And tried him thus with eloquence: +"Arise, arise, my dearest; why +Wilt thou, famed Prince, so lowly lie? +Not by such grief as this are moved +Good men like thee, by all approved. +The earth thy father nobly swayed, +And rites to Heaven he duly paid. +At length his race of life was run: +Thou shouldst not mourn for him, my son." + + Long on the ground he wept, and rolled +From side to side, still unconsoled, +And then, with bitter grief oppressed, +His mother with these words addressed: +"This joyful hope my bosom fed +When from my grandsire's halls I sped-- +"The king will throne his eldest son, +And sacrifice, as should be done." +But all is changed, my hope was vain, +And this sad heart is rent in twain, +For my dear father's face I miss, +Who ever sought his loved ones' bliss. +But in my absence, mother, say, +What sickness took my sire away? +Ah, happy Ráma, happy they +Allowed his funeral rites to pay! +The glorious monarch has not learned +That I his darling have returned, +Or quickly had he hither sped, +And pressed his kisses on my head. +Where is that hand whose gentle touch, +Most soft and kind I loved so much, +The hand that loved to brush away +The dust that on his darling lay? +Quick, bear the news to Ráma's ear; +Tell the great chief that I am here: +Brother, and sire, and friend, and all +Is he, and I his trusty thrall. +For noble hearts, to virtue true, +Their sires in elder brothers view. +To clasp his feet I fain would bow: +He is my hope and refuge now. +What said my glorious sire, who knew +Virtue and vice, so brave and true? +Firm in his vows, dear lady, say, +What said he ere he passed away? +What was his rede to me? I crave +To hear the last advice he gave." + + Thus closely questioned by the youth, +Kaikeyí spoke the mournful truth: +"The high-souled monarch wept and sighed, +For Ráma, Sítá, Lakshman, cried, +Then, best of all who go to bliss, +Passed to the world which follows this. +"Ah, blessed are the people who +Shall Ráma and his Sítá view, +And Lakshman of the mighty arm, +Returning free from scathe and harm." +Such were the words, the last of all, +Thy father, ere he died, let fall, +By Fate and Death's dread coils enwound, +As some great elephant is bound." + + He heard, yet deeper in despair, +Her lips this double woe declare, +And with sad brow that showed his pain +Questioned his mother thus again: +"But where is he, of virtue tried, +Who fills Kausalyá's heart with pride, +Where is the noble Ráma? where +Is Lakshman brave, and Sítá fair?" + + Thus pressed, the queen began to tell +The story as each thing befell, +And gave her son in words like these, +The mournful news she meant to please: +"The prince is gone in hermit dress +To Dandak's mighty wilderness, +And Lakshman brave and Sítá share +The wanderings of the exile there." + + Then Bharat's soul with fear was stirred +Lest Ráma from the right had erred, +And jealous for ancestral fame, +He put this question to the dame: +"Has Ráma grasped with lawless hold +A Bráhman's house, or land, or gold? +Has Ráma harmed with ill intent +Some poor or wealthy innocent? +Was Ráma, faithless to his vows, +Enamoured of anothers spouse? +Why was he sent to Dandak's wild, +Like one who kills an unborn child?" + + He questioned thus: and she began +To tell her deeds and crafty plan. +Deceitful-hearted, fond, and blind +As is the way of womankind: +"No Bráhman's wealth has Ráma seized, +No dame his wandering fancy pleased; +His very eyes he ne'er allows +To gaze upon a neighbour's spouse. +But when I heard the monarch planned +To give the realm to Ráma's hand, +I prayed that Ráma hence might flee, +And claimed the throne, my son, for thee. +The king maintained the name he bare, +And did according to my prayer, +And Ráma, with his brother, sent, +And Sítá, forth to banishment. +When his dear son was seen no more, +The lord of earth was troubled sore: +Too feeble with his grief to strive, +He joined the elemental Five. +Up then, most dutiful! maintain +The royal state, arise, and reign. +For thee, my darling son, for thee +All this was planned and wrought by me. +Come, cast thy grief and pain aside, +With manly courage fortified. +This town and realm are all thine own, +And fear and grief are here unknown. +Come, with Vasishtha's guiding aid, + And priests in ritual skilled +Let the king's funeral dues be paid, + And every claim fulfilled. +Perform his obsequies with all + That suits his rank and worth, +Then give the mandate to install + Thyself as lord of earth." + + + + +Canto LXXIII. Kaikeyí Reproached. + + +But when he heard the queen relate +His brothers' doom, his father's fate, +Thus Bharat to his mother said +With burning grief disquieted: +"Alas, what boots it now to reign, +Struck down by grief and well-nigh slain? +Ah, both are gone, my sire, and he +Who was a second sire to me. +Grief upon grief thy hand has made, +And salt upon gashes laid: +For my dear sire has died through thee, +And Ráma roams a devotee. +Thou camest like the night of Fate +This royal house to devastate. +Unwitting ill, my hapless sire +Placed in his bosom coals of fire, +And through thy crimes his death he met, +O thou whose heart on sin is set. +Shame of thy house! thy senseless deed +Has reft all joy from Raghu's seed. +The truthful monarch, dear to fame, +Received thee as his wedded dame, +And by thy act to misery doomed +Has died by flames of grief consumed. +Kausalyá and Sumitrá too +The coming of my mother rue, +And if they live oppressed by woe, +For their dear sons their sad tears flow. +Was he not ever good and kind,-- +That hero of the duteous mind? +Skilled in all filial duties, he +As a dear mother treated thee. +Kausalyá too, the eldest queen, +Who far foresees with insight keen, +Did she not ever show thee all +A sister's love at duty's call? +And hast thou from the kingdom chased +Her son, with bark around his waist, +To the wild wood, to dwell therein, +And dost not sorrow for thy sin? +The love I bare to Raghu's son +Thou knewest not, ambitious one, +If thou hast wrought this impious deed +For royal sway, in lawless greed. +With him and Lakshman far away, +What power have I the realm to sway? +What hope will fire my bosom when +I see no more these lords of men? +The holy king, who loved the right +Relied on Ráma's power and might, +His guardian and his glory, so +Joys Meru in his woods below. +How can I bear, a steer untrained, +The load his mightier strength sustained? +What power have I to brook alone +This weight on feeble shoulders thrown? +But if the needful power were bought +By strength of mind and brooding thought, +No triumph shall attend the dame +Who dooms her son to lasting shame. +Now should no doubt that son prevent +From quitting thee on evil bent. +But Ráma's love o'erpowers my will, +Who holds thee as his mother still. +Whence did the thought, O thou whose eyes +Are turned to sinful deeds, arise-- +A plan our ancient sires would hate, +O fallen from thy virtuous state? +For in the line from which we spring +The eldest is anointed king: +No monarchs from the rule decline, +And, least of all, Ikshváku's line. +Our holy sires, to virtue true, +Upon our race a lustre threw, +But with subversive frenzy thou +Hast marred our lineal honour now, +Of lofty birth, a noble line +Of previous kings is also thine: +Then whence this hated folly? whence +This sudden change that steals thy sense? +Thou shalt not gain thine impious will, +O thou whose thoughts are bent on ill, +Thou from whose guilty hand descend +These sinful blows my life to end. +Now to the forest will I go, +Thy cherished plans to overthrow, +And bring my brother, free from stain, +His people's darling, home again. +And Ráma, when again he turns, +Whose glory like a beacon burns, +In me a faithful slave shall find +To serve him with contented mind." + + + + +Canto LXXIV. Bharat's Lament. + + +When Bharat's anger-sharpened tongue +Reproaches on the queen had flung, +Again, with mighty rage possessed, +The guilty dame he thus addressed: +"Flee, cruel, wicked sinner, flee, +Let not this kingdom harbour thee. +Thou who hast thrown all right aside, +Weep thou for me when I have died. +Canst thou one charge against the king, +Or the most duteous Ráma bring? +The one thy sin to death has sent, +The other chased to banishment. +Our line's destroyer, sin defiled +Like one who kills an unborn child, +Ne'er with thy lord in heaven to dwell, +Thy portion shall be down in hell +Because thy hand, that stayed for naught, +This awful wickedness has wrought, +And ruined him whom all held dear, +My bosom too is stirred with fear. +My father by thy sin is dead, +And Ráma to the wood is fled; +And of thy deed I bear the stain, +And fameless in the world remain. +Ambitious, evil-souled, in show +My mother, yet my direst foe. +My throning ne'er thine eyes shall bless, +Thy husband's wicked murderess. +Thou art not Asvapati's child, +That righteous king most sage and mild, +But thou wast born a fiend, a foe +My father's house to overthrow. +Thou who hast made Kausalyá, pure, +Gentle, affectionate, endure +The loss of him who was her bliss,-- +What worlds await thee, Queen, for this? +Was it not patent to thy sense +That Ráma was his friends' defence, +Kausalyá's own true child most dear, +The eldest and his father's peer? +Men in the son not only trace +The father's figure, form, and face, +But in his heart they also find +The offspring of the father's mind; +And hence, though dear their kinsmen are, +To mothers sons are dearer far. +There goes an ancient legend how +Good Surabhí, the God-loved cow, +Saw two of her dear children strain, +Drawing a plough and faint with pain. +She saw them on the earth outworn, +Toiling till noon from early morn, +And as she viewed her children's woe, +A flood of tears began to flow. +As through the air beneath her swept +The Lord of Gods, the drops she wept, +Fine, laden with delicious smell, +Upon his heavenly body fell. +And Indra lifted up his eyes +And saw her standing in the skies, +Afflicted with her sorrow's weight, +Sad, weeping, all disconsolate. +The Lord of Gods in anxious mood +Thus spoke in suppliant attitude: +"No fear disturbs our rest, and how +Come this great dread upon thee now? +Whence can this woe upon thee fall, +Say, gentle one who lovest all?" + + Thus spake the God who rules the skies, +Indra, the Lord supremely wise; +And gentle Surabhí, well learned +In eloquence, this speech returned: +"Not thine the fault, great God, not thine +And guiltless are the Lords divine: +I mourn two children faint with toil, +Labouring hard in stubborn soil. +Wasted and sad I see them now, +While the sun beats on neck and brow, +Still goaded by the cruel hind,-- +No pity in his savage mind. +O Indra, from this body sprang +These children, worn with many a pang. +For this sad sight I mourn, for none +Is to the mother like her son." + + He saw her weep whose offspring feed +In thousands over hill and mead, +And knew that in a mother's eye +Naught with a son, for love, can vie. +He deemed her, when the tears that came +From her sad eyes bedewed his frame, +Laden with their celestial scent, +Of living things most excellent. +If she these tears of sorrow shed +Who many a thousand children bred, +Think what a life of woe is left +Kausalyá, of her Ráma reft. +An only son was hers and she +Is rendered childless now by thee. +Here and hereafter, for thy crime, +Woe is thy lot through endless time. +And now, O Queen, without delay, +With all due honour will I pay +Both to my brother and my sire +The rites their several fates require. +Back to Ayodhyá will I bring +The long-armed chief, her lord and king, +And to the wood myself betake +Where hermit saints their dwelling make. +For, sinner both in deed and thought! +This hideous crime which thou hast wrought +I cannot bear, or live to see +The people's sad eyes bent on me. +Begone, to Dandak wood retire, +Or cast thy body to the fire, +Or bind around thy neck the rope: +No other refuge mayst thou hope. +When Ráma, lord of valour true, +Has gained the earth, his right and due, +Then, free from duty's binding debt, +My vanished sin shall I forget." + + Thus like an elephant forced to brook +The goading of the driver's hook, +Quick panting like a serpent maimed, +He fell to earth with rage inflamed. + + + + +Canto LXXV. The Abjuration. + + +A while he lay: he rose at length, +And slowly gathering sense and strength, +With angry eyes which tears bedewed, +The miserable queen he viewed, +And spake with keen reproach to her +Before each lord and minister: +"No lust have I for kingly sway, +My mother I no more obey: +Naught of this consecration knew +Which Dasaratha kept in view. +I with Satrughna all the time +Was dwelling in a distant clime: +I knew of Ráma's exile naught, +That hero of the noble thought: +I knew not how fair Sítá went, +And Lakshman, forth to banishment." + + Thus high-souled Bharat, mid the crowd, +Lifted his voice and cried aloud. +Kausalyá heard, she raised her head, +And quickly to Sumitrá said: +"Bharat, Kaikeyí's son is here,-- +Hers whose fell deeds I loathe and fear: +That youth of foresight keen I fain +Would meet and see his face again." +Thus to Sumitrá spake the dame, +And straight to Bharat's presence came +With altered mien, neglected dress, +Trembling and faint with sore distress. +Bharat, Satrughna by his side, +To meet her, toward her palace hied. +And when the royal dame they viewed +Distressed with dire solicitude, +Sad, fallen senseless on the ground, +About her neck their arms they wound. +The noble matron prostrate there, +Embraced, with tears, the weeping pair, +And with her load of grief oppressed, +To Bharat then these words addressed: +"Now all is thine, without a foe, +This realm for which thou longest so. +Ah, soon Kaikeyí's ruthless hand +Has won the empire of the land, +And made my guiltless Ráma flee +Dressed like some lonely devotee. +Herein what profit has the queen, +Whose eye delights in havoc, seen? +Me also, me 'twere surely good +To banish to the distant wood, +To dwell amid the shades that hold +My famous son with limbs like gold. +Nay, with the sacred fire to guide, +Will I, Sumitrá by my side, +Myself to the drear wood repair +And seek the son of Raghu there. +This land which rice and golden corn +And wealth of every kind adorn, +Car, elephant, and steed, and gem,-- +She makes thee lord of it and them." + + With taunts like these her bitter tongue +The heart of blameless Bharat wrung +And direr pangs his bosom tore +Than when the lancet probes a sore. +With troubled senses all astray +Prone at her feet he fell and lay. +With loud lament a while he plained, +And slowly strength and sense regained. +With suppliant hand to hand applied +He turned to her who wept and sighed, +And thus bespake the queen, whose breast +With sundry woes was sore distressed: +"Why these reproaches, noble dame? +I, knowing naught, am free from blame. +Thou knowest well what love was mine +For Ráma, chief of Raghu's line. +O, never be his darkened mind +To Scripture's guiding lore inclined, +By whose consent the prince who led +The good, the truthful hero, fled. +May he obey the vilest lord, +Offend the sun with act abhorred,(350) +And strike a sleeping cow, who lent +His voice to Ráma's banishment. +May the good king who all befriends, +And, like his sons, the people tends, +Be wronged by him who gave consent +To noble Ráma's banishment. +On him that king's injustice fall, +Who takes, as lord, a sixth of all, +Nor guards, neglectful of his trust, +His people, as a ruler must. +The crime of those who swear to fee, +At holy rites, some devotee, +And then the promised gift deny, +Be his who willed the prince should fly. +When weapons clash and heroes bleed, +With elephant and harnessed steed, +Ne'er, like the good, be his to fight +Whose heart allowed the prince's flight. +Though taught with care by one expert +May he the Veda's text pervert, +With impious mind on evil bent, +Whose voice approved the banishment. +May he with traitor lips reveal +Whate'er he promised to conceal, +And bruit abroad his friend's offence, +Betrayed by generous confidence. +No wife of equal lineage born +The wretch's joyless home adorn: +Ne'er may he do one virtuous deed, +And dying see no child succeed. +When in the battle's awful day +Fierce warriors stand in dread array, +Let the base coward turn and fly, +And smitten by the foeman, die. +Long may he wander, rags his wear, +Doomed in his hand a skull to bear, +And like an idiot beg his bread, +Who gave consent when Ráma fled. +His sin who holy rites forgets, +Asleep when shows the sun and sets, +A load upon his soul shall lie +Whose will allowed the prince to fly. +His sin who loves his Master's dame, +His, kindler of destructive flame, +His who betrays his trusting friend +Shall, mingled all, on him descend. +By him no reverence due be paid +To blessed God or parted shade: +May sire and mother's sacred name +In vain from him obedience claim. +Ne'er may he go where dwell the good, +Nor win their fame and neighbourhood, +But lose all hopes of bliss to-day, +Who willed the prince should flee away. +May he deceive the poor and weak +Who look to him and comfort seek, +Betray the suppliants who complain, +And make the hopeful hope in vain. +Long may his wife his kiss expect, +And pine away in cold neglect. +May he his lawful love despise, +And turn on other dames his eyes, +Fool, on forbidden joys intent, +Whose will allowed the banishment. +His sin who deadly poison throws +To spoil the water as it flows, +Lay on the wretch its burden dread +Who gave consent when Ráma fled."(351) + + Thus with his words he undeceived +Kausalyá's troubled heart, who grieved +For son and husband reft away; +Then prostrate on the ground he lay. +Him as he lay half-senseless there, +Freed by the mighty oaths he sware, +Kausalyá, by her woe distressed, +With melancholy words addressed: +"Anew, my son, this sorrow springs +To rend my heart with keener stings: +These awful oaths which thou hast sworn +My breast with double grief have torn. +Thy soul, and faithful Lakshman's too, +Are still, thank Heaven! to virtue true. +True to thy promise, thou shalt gain +The mansions which the good obtain." + + Then to her breast that youth she drew, +Whose sweet fraternal love she knew, +And there in strict embraces held +The hero, as her tears outwelled. +And Bharat's heart grew sick and faint +With grief and oft-renewed complaint, +And all his senses were distraught +By the great woe that in him wrought. +Thus he lay and still bewailed + With sighs and loud lament +Till all his strength and reason failed, + The hours of night were spent. + + + + +Canto LXXVI. The Funeral. + + +The saint Vasishtha, best of all +Whose words with moving wisdom fall, +Bharat, Kaikeyí's son, addressed, +Whom burning fires of grief distressed: +"O Prince, whose fame is widely spread, +Enough of grief: be comforted. +The time is come: arise, and lay +Upon the pyre the monarch's clay." + + He heard the words Vasishtha spoke, +And slumbering resolution woke. +Then skilled in all the laws declare, +He bade his friends the rites prepare. +They raised the body from the oil, +And placed it, dripping, on the soil; +Then laid it on a bed, whereon +Wrought gold and precious jewels shone. +There, pallor o'er his features spread, +The monarch, as in sleep, lay dead. +Then Bharat sought his father's side, +And lifted up his voice and cried: +"O King, and has thy heart designed +To part and leave thy son behind? +Make Ráma flee, who loves the right, +And Lakshman of the arm of might? +Whither, great Monarch, wilt thou go +And leave this people in their woe, +Mourning their hero, wild with grief, +Of Ráma reft, their lion chief? +Ah, who will guard the people well +Who in Ayodhyá's city dwell, +When thou, my sire, hast sought the sky, +And Ráma has been forced to fly? +In widowed woe, bereft of thee, +The land no more is fair to see: +The city, to my aching sight, +Is gloomy as a moonless night." + + Thus, with o'erwhelming sorrow pained, +Sad Bharat by the bed complained: +And thus Vasishtha, holy sage, +Spoke his deep anguish to assuage: +"O Lord of men, no longer stay; +The last remaining duties pay: +Haste, mighty-armed, as I advise, +The funeral rites to solemnize." + + And Bharat heard Vasishtha's rede +With due attention and agreed. +He summoned straight from every side +Chaplain, and priest, and holy guide. +The sacred fires he bade them bring +Forth from the chapel of the king, +Wherein the priests in order due, +And ministers, the offerings threw. +Distraught in mind, with sob and tear, +They laid the body on a bier, +And servants, while their eyes brimmed o'er +The monarch from the palace bore. +Another band of mourners led +The long procession of the dead: +Rich garments in the way they cast, +And gold and silver, as they passed. +Then other hands the corse bedewed +With fragrant juices that exude +From sandal, cedar, aloe, pine, +And every perfume rare and fine. +Then priestly hands the mighty dead +Upon the pyre deposited. +The sacred fires they tended next, +And muttered low each funeral text; +And priestly singers who rehearse +The Saman(352) sang their holy verse. +Forth from the town in litters came, +Or chariots, many a royal dame, +And honoured so the funeral ground, +With aged followers ringed around. +With steps in inverse order bent,(353) +The priests in sad procession went +Around the monarch's burning pyre +Who well had nursed each sacred fire: +With Queen Kausalyá and the rest, +Their tender hearts with woe distressed. +The voice of women, shrill and clear +As screaming curlews, smote the ear, +As from a thousand voices rose +The shriek that tells of woman's woes. +Then weeping, faint, with loud lament, +Down Sarjú's shelving bank they went. + There standing on the river side + With Bharat, priest, and peer, + Their lips the women purified + With water fresh and clear. + Returning to the royal town, + Their eyes with tear-drops filled, + Ten days on earth they laid them down, + And wept till grief was stilled. + + + + +Canto LXXVII. The Gathering Of The Ashes. + + +The tenth day passed: the prince again +Was free from every legal stain. +He bade them on the twelfth the great +Remaining honour celebrate. +Much gold he gave, and gems, and food, +To all the Bráhman multitude, +And goats whose hair was white and fine, +And many a thousand head of kine: +Slaves, men and damsels, he bestowed, +And many a car and fair abode: +Such gifts he gave the Bráhman race +His father's obsequies to grace. +Then when the morning's earliest ray +Appeared upon the thirteenth day, +Again the hero wept and sighed +Distraught and sorrow-stupefied; +Drew, sobbing in his anguish, near, +The last remaining debt to clear, +And at the bottom of the pyre, +He thus bespake his royal sire: +"O father, hast thou left me so, +Deserted in my friendless woe, +When he to whom the charge was given +To keep me, to the wood is driven? +Her only son is forced away +Who was his helpless mother's stay: +Ah, whither, father, art thou fled; +Leaving the queen uncomforted?" + + He looked upon the pile where lay +The bones half-burnt and ashes grey, +And uttering a piteous moan, +Gave way, by anguish overthrown. +Then as his tears began to well, +Prostrate to earth the hero fell; +So from its seat the staff they drag, +And cast to earth some glorious flag. +The ministers approached again +The prince whom rites had freed from stain; +So when Yayáti fell, each seer, +In pity for his fate, drew near. +Satrughna saw him lying low +O'erwhelmed beneath the crush of woe, +And as upon the king he thought, +He fell upon the earth distraught. +When to his loving memory came +Those noble gifts, that kingly frame, +He sorrowed, by his woe distressed, +As one by frenzied rage possessed: +"Ah me, this surging sea of woe +Has drowned us with its overflow: +The source is Manthará, dire and dark, +Kaikeyí is the ravening shark: +And the great boons the monarch gave +Lend conquering might to every wave. +Ah, whither wilt thou go, and leave +Thy Bharat in his woe to grieve, +Whom ever 'twas thy greatest joy +To fondle as a tender boy? +Didst thou not give with thoughtful care +Our food, our drink, our robes to wear? +Whose love will now for us provide, +When thou, our king and sire, hast died? +At such a time bereft, forlorn, +Why is not earth in sunder torn, +Missing her monarch's firm control, +His love of right, his lofty soul? +Ah me, for Ráma roams afar, +My sire is where the Blessed are; +How can I live deserted? I +Will pass into the fire and die. +Abandoned thus, I will not brook +Upon Ayodhyá's town to look, +Once guarded by Ikshváku's race: +The wood shall be my dwelling place." + + Then when the princes' mournful train +Heard the sad brothers thus complain, +And saw their misery, at the view +Their grief burst wilder out anew. +Faint with lamenting, sad and worn, +Each like a bull with broken horn, +The brothers in their wild despair +Lay rolling, mad with misery, there. +Then old Vasishtha good and true, +Their father's priest, all lore who knew, +Raised weeping Bharat on his feet, +And thus bespake with counsel meet: +"Twelve days, my lord, have past away +Since flames consumed thy father's clay: +Delay no more: as rules ordain, +Gather what bones may yet remain. +Three constant pairs are ever found +To hem all mortal creatures round:(354) +Then mourn not thus, O Prince, for none +Their close companionship may shun." + + Sumantra bade Satrughna rise, +And soothed his soul with counsel wise, +And skilled in truth, his hearer taught +How all things are and come to naught. +When rose each hero from the ground, +A lion lord of men, renowned, +He showed like Indra's flag,(355) whereon +Fierce rains have dashed and suns have shone. +They wiped their red and weeping eyes, +And gently made their sad replies: +Then, urged to haste, the royal pair +Performed the rites that claimed their care. + + + + +Canto LXXVIII. Manthará Punished. + + +Satrughna thus to Bharat spake +Who longed the forest road to take: +"He who in woe was wont to give +Strength to himself and all that live-- +Dear Ráma, true and pure in heart, +Is banished by a woman's art. +Yet here was Lakshman, brave and strong, +Could not his might prevent the wrong? +Could not his arm the king restrain, +Or make the banished free again? +One loving right and fearing crime +Had checked the monarch's sin in time, +When, vassal of a woman's will, +His feet approached the path of ill." + + While Lakshman's younger brother, dread +Satrughna, thus to Bharat said, +Came to the fronting door, arrayed +In glittering robes, the hump-back maid. +There she, with sandal-oil besmeared, +In garments meet for queens appeared: +And lustre to her form was lent +By many a gem and ornament. +She girdled with her broidered zone, +And many a chain about her thrown, +Showed like a female monkey round +Whose body many a string is bound. +When on that cause of evil fell +The quick eye of the sentinel, +He grasped her in his ruthless hold, +And hastening in, Satrughna told: +"Here is the wicked pest," he cried, +"Through whom the king thy father died, +And Ráma wanders in the wood: +Do with her as thou deemest good." +The warder spoke: and every word +Satrughna's breast to fury stirred: +He called the servants, all and each. +And spake in wrath his hasty speech: +"This is the wretch my sire who slew, +And misery on my brothers drew: +Let her this day obtain the meed, +Vile sinner, of her cruel deed." +He spake; and moved by fury laid +His mighty hand upon the maid, +Who as her fellows ringed her round, +Made with her cries the hall resound. +Soon as the gathered women viewed +Satrughna in his angry mood, +Their hearts disturbed by sudden dread, +They turned and from his presence fled. +"His rage," they cried, "on us will fall, +And ruthless, he will slay us all. +Come, to Kausalyá let us flee: +Our hope, our sure defence is she, +Approved by all, of virtuous mind, +Compassionate, and good, and kind." + + His eyes with burning wrath aglow, +Satrughna, shatterer of the foe, +Dragged on the ground the hump-back maid +Who shrieked aloud and screamed for aid. +This way and that with no remorse +He dragged her with resistless force, +And chains and glittering trinkets burst +Lay here and there with gems dispersed, +Till like the sky of Autumn shone +The palace floor they sparkled on. +The lord of men, supremely strong, +Haled in his rage the wretch along: +Where Queen Kaikeyí dwelt he came, +And sternly then addressed the dame. +Deep in her heart Kaikeyí felt +The stabs his keen reproaches dealt, +And of Satrughna's ire afraid, +To Bharat flew and cried for aid. +He looked and saw the prince inflamed +With burning rage, and thus exclaimed: +"Forgive! thine angry arm restrain: +A woman never may be slain. +My hand Kaikeyí's blood would spill, +The sinner ever bent on ill, +But Ráma, long in duty tried, +Would hate the impious matricide: +And if he knew thy vengeful blade +Had slaughtered e'en this hump-back maid, +Never again, be sure, would he +Speak friendly word to thee or me." + + When Bharat's speech Satrughna heard +He calmed the rage his breast that stirred, +Releasing from her dire constraint +The trembling wretch with terror faint. +Then to Kaikeyí's feet she crept, +And prostrate in her misery wept. +Kaikeyí on the hump-back gazed, + And saw her weep and gasp. +Still quivering, with her senses dazed, + From fierce Satrughna's grasp. +With gentle words of pity she + Assuaged her wild despair, +E'en as a tender hand might free + A curlew from the snare. + + + + +Canto LXXIX. Bharat's Commands. + + +Now when the sun's returning ray +Had ushered in the fourteenth day, +The gathered peers of state addressed +To Bharat's ear their new request: +"Our lord to heaven has parted hence, +Long served with deepest reverence; +Ráma, the eldest, far from home, +And Lakshman, in the forest roam. +O Prince, of mighty fame, be thou +Our guardian and our monarch now, +Lest secret plot or foeman's hate +Assail our unprotected state. +With longing eyes, O Lord of men, +To thee look friend and citizen, +And ready is each sacred thing +To consecrate our chosen king. +Come, Bharat, and accept thine own +Ancient hereditary throne. +Thee let the priests this day install +As monarch to preserve us all." + + Around the sacred gear he bent +His circling footsteps reverent, +And, firm to vows he would not break, +Thus to the gathered people spake: +"The eldest son is ever king: +So rules the house from which we spring: +Nor should ye, Lords, like men unwise, +With words like these to wrong advise. +Ráma is eldest born, and he +The ruler of the land shall be. +Now to the woods will I repair, +Five years and nine to lodge me there. +Assemble straight a mighty force, +Cars, elephants, and foot and horse, +For I will follow on his track +And bring my eldest brother back. +Whate'er the rites of throning need +Placed on a car the way shall lead: +The sacred vessels I will take +To the wild wood for Ráma's sake. +I o'er the lion prince's head +The sanctifying balm will shed, +And bring him, as the fire they bring +Forth from the shrine, with triumphing. +Nor will I let my mother's greed +In this her cherished aim succeed: +In pathless wilds will I remain, +And Ráma here as king shall reign. +To make the rough ways smooth and clear +Send workman out and pioneer: +Let skilful men attend beside +Our way through pathless spots to guide." +As thus the royal Bharat spake, +Ordaining all for Ráma's sake, +The audience gave with one accord +Auspicious answer to their lord: +"Be royal Fortune aye benign +To thee for this good speech of thine, +Who wishest still thine elder's hand +To rule with kingly sway the land." + Their glorious speech, their favouring cries + Made his proud bosom swell: + And from the prince's noble eyes + The tears of rapture fell.(356) + + + + +Canto LXXX. The Way Prepared. + + +All they who knew the joiner's art, +Or distant ground in every part; +Each busied in his several trade, +To work machines or ply the spade; +Deft workmen skilled to frame the wheel, +Or with the ponderous engine deal; +Guides of the way, and craftsmen skilled, +To sink the well, make bricks, and build; +And those whose hands the tree could hew, +And work with slips of cut bamboo, +Went forward, and to guide them, they +Whose eyes before had seen the way. +Then onward in triumphant mood +Went all the mighty multitude. +Like the great sea whose waves leap high +When the full moon is in the sky. +Then, in his proper duty skilled, +Each joined him to his several guild, +And onward in advance they went +With every tool and implement. +Where bush and tangled creeper lay +With trenchant steel they made the way; +They felled each stump, removed each stone, +And many a tree was overthrown. +In other spots, on desert lands, +Tall trees were reared by busy hands. +Where'er the line of road they took, +They plied the hatchet, axe, and hook. +Others, with all their strength applied, +Cast vigorous plants and shrubs aside, +In shelving valleys rooted deep, +And levelled every dale and steep. +Each pit and hole that stopped the way +They filled with stones, and mud, and clay, +And all the ground that rose and fell +With busy care was levelled well. +They bridged ravines with ceaseless toil, +And pounded fine the flinty soil. +Now here, now there, to right and left, +A passage through the ground they cleft, +And soon the rushing flood was led +Abundant through the new-cut bed, +Which by the running stream supplied +With ocean's boundless waters vied. +In dry and thirsty spots they sank +Full many a well and ample tank, +And altars round about them placed +To deck the station in the waste. +With well-wrought plaster smoothly spread, +With bloomy trees that rose o'erhead, +With banners waving in the air, +And wild birds singing here and there, +With fragrant sandal-water wet, +With many a flower beside it set, +Like the Gods' heavenly pathway showed +That mighty host's imperial road. +Deft workmen, chosen for their skill +To do the high-souled Bharat's will, +In every pleasant spot where grew +Trees of sweet fruit and fair to view, +As he commanded, toiled to grace +With all delights his camping-place. +And they who read the stars, and well +Each lucky sign and hour could tell, +Raised carefully the tented shade +Wherein high-minded Bharat stayed. +With ample space of level ground, +With broad deep moat encompassed round; +Like Mandar in his towering pride, +With streets that ran from side to side; +Enwreathed with many a palace tall +Surrounded by its noble wall; +With roads by skilful workmen made, +Where many a glorious banner played; +With stately mansions, where the dove +Sat nestling in her cote above. +Rising aloft supremely fair +Like heavenly cars that float in air, +Each camp in beauty and in bliss +Matched Indra's own metropolis. + As shines the heaven on some fair night, + With moon and constellations filled, + The prince's royal road was bright, + Adorned by art of workmen skilled. + + + + +Canto LXXXI. The Assembly. + + +Ere yet the dawn had ushered in +The day should see the march begin, +Herald and bard who rightly knew +Each nice degree of honour due, +Their loud auspicious voices raised, +And royal Bharat blessed and praised. +With sticks of gold the drum they smote, +Which thundered out its deafening note, +Blew loud the sounding shell, and blent +Each high and low-toned instrument. +The mingled sound of drum and horn +Through all the air was quickly borne, +And as in Bharat's ear it rang, +Gave the sad prince another pang. + + Then Bharat, starting from repose, +Stilled the glad sounds that round him rose, +"I am not king; no more mistake:" +Then to Satrughna thus he spake: +"O see what general wrongs succeed +Sprung from Kaikeyí's evil deed! +The king my sire has died and thrown +Fresh miseries on me alone. +The royal bliss, on duty based, +Which our just high-souled father graced, +Wanders in doubt and sore distress +Like a tossed vessel rudderless. +And he who was our lordly stay +Roams in the forest far away, +Expelled by this my mother, who +To duty's law is most untrue." + + As royal Bharat thus gave vent +To bitter grief in wild lament, +Gazing upon his face the crowd +Of pitying women wept aloud. +His lamentation scarce was o'er, +When Saint Vasishtha, skilled in lore +Of royal duty, dear to fame, +To join the great assembly came. +Girt by disciples ever true +Still nearer to that hall he drew, +Resplendent, heavenly to behold, +Adorned with wealth of gems and gold: +E'en so a man in duty tried +Draws near to meet his virtuous bride. +He reached his golden seat o'erlaid +With coverlet of rich brocade, +There sat, in all the Vedas read, +And called the messengers, and said: +"Go forth, let Bráhman, Warrior, peer, +And every captain gather here: +Let all attentive hither throng: +Go, hasten: we delay too long. +Satrughna, glorious Bharat bring, +The noble children of the king,(357) +Yudhájit(358) and Sumantra, all +The truthful and the virtuous call." + + He ended: soon a mighty sound +Of thickening tumult rose around, +As to the hall they bent their course +With car, and elephant, and horse, +The people all with glad acclaim +Welcomed Prince Bharat as he came: +E'en as they loved their king to greet, +Or as the Gods Lord Indra(359) meet. + The vast assembly shone as fair + With Bharat's kingly face + As Dasaratha's self were there + To glorify the place. + It gleamed like some unruffled lake + Where monsters huge of mould + With many a snake their pastime take + O'er shells, sand, gems, and gold. + + + + +Canto LXXXII. The Departure. + + +The prudent prince the assembly viewed +Thronged with its noble multitude, +Resplendent as a cloudless night +When the full moon is in his height; +While robes of every varied hue +A glory o'er the synod threw. +The priest in lore of duty skilled +Looked on the crowd the hall that filled, +And then in accents soft and grave +To Bharat thus his counsel gave: +"The king, dear son, so good and wise, +Has gone from earth and gained the skies, +Leaving to thee, her rightful lord, +This rich wide land with foison stored. +And still has faithful Ráma stood +Firm to the duty of the good, +And kept his father's hest aright, +As the moon keeps its own dear light. +Thus sire and brother yield to thee +This realm from all annoyance free: +Rejoice thy lords: enjoy thine own: +Anointed king, ascend the throne. +Let vassal Princes hasten forth +From distant lands, west, south, and north, +From Kerala,(360) from every sea, +And bring ten million gems to thee." +As thus the sage Vasishtha spoke, +A storm of grief o'er Bharat broke. +And longing to be just and true, +His thoughts to duteous Ráma flew. +With sobs and sighs and broken tones, +E'en as a wounded mallard moans, +He mourned with deepest sorrow moved, +And thus the holy priest reproved: +"O, how can such as Bharat dare +The power and sway from him to tear, +Wise, and devout, and true, and chaste, +With Scripture lore and virtue graced? +Can one of Dasaratha's seed +Be guilty of so vile a deed? +The realm and I are Ráma's: thou, +Shouldst speak the words of justice now. +For he, to claims of virtue true, +Is eldest born and noblest too: +Nahush, Dilípa could not be +More famous in their lives than he. +As Dasaratha ruled of right, +So Ráma's is the power and right. +If I should do this sinful deed +And forfeit hope of heavenly meed, +My guilty act would dim the shine +Of old Ikshváku's glorious line. +Nay, as the sin my mother wrought +Is grievous to my inmost thought, +I here, my hands together laid, +Will greet him in the pathless shade. +To Ráma shall my steps be bent, +My King, of men most excellent, +Raghu's illustrious son, whose sway +Might hell, and earth, and heaven obey." + + That righteous speech, whose every word +Bore virtue's stamp, the audience heard; +On Ráma every thought was set, +And with glad tears each eye was wet. +"Then, if the power I still should lack +To bring my noble brother back, +I in the wood will dwell, and share +His banishment with Lakshman there. +By every art persuasive I +To bring him from the wood will try, +And show him to your loving eyes, +O Bráhmans noble, good, and wise. +E'en now, the road to make and clear, +Each labourer pressed, and pioneer +Have I sent forward to precede +The army I resolve to lead." + + Thus, by fraternal love possessed, +His firm resolve the prince expressed, +Then to Sumantra, deeply read +In holy texts, he turned and said: +"Sumantra, rise without delay, +And as I bid my words obey. +Give orders for the march with speed, +And all the army hither lead." + + The wise Sumantra, thus addressed, +Obeyed the high-souled chief's behest. +He hurried forth with joy inspired +And gave the orders he desired. +Delight each soldier's bosom filled, +And through each chief and captain thrilled, +To hear that march proclaimed, to bring +Dear Ráma back from wandering. +From house to house the tidings flew: +Each soldier's wife the order knew, +And as she listened blithe and gay +Her husband urged to speed away. +Captain and soldier soon declared +The host equipped and all prepared +With chariots matching thought for speed, +And wagons drawn by ox and steed. +When Bharat by Vasishtha's side, +His ready host of warriors eyed, +Thus in Sumantra's ear he spoke: +"My car and horses quickly yoke." +Sumantra hastened to fulfil +With ready joy his master's will, +And quickly with the chariot sped +Drawn by fleet horses nobly bred. +Then glorious Bharat, true, devout, +Whose genuine valour none could doubt, +Gave in fit words his order out; +For he would seek the shade +Of the great distant wood, and there +Win his dear brother with his prayer: +"Sumantra, haste! my will declare + The host be all arrayed. +I to the wood my way will take, + To Ráma supplication make, +And for the world's advantage sake, + Will lead him home again." +Then, ordered thus, the charioteer +Who listened with delighted ear, +Went forth and gave his orders clear + To captains of the train. +He gave the popular chiefs the word, +And with the news his friends he stirred, +And not a single man deferred + Preparing for the road. +Then Bráhman, Warrior, Merchant, thrall, +Obedient to Sumantra's call, +Each in his house arose, and all +Yoked elephant or camel tall, +Or ass or noble steed in stall, + And full appointed showed. + + + + +Canto LXXXIII. The Journey Begun. + + +Then Bharat rose at early morn, +And in his noble chariot borne +Drove forward at a rapid pace +Eager to look on Ráma's face. +The priests and lords, a fair array, +In sun-bright chariots led the way. +Behind, a well appointed throng, +Nine thousand elephants streamed along. +Then sixty thousand cars, and then, +With various arms, came fighting men. +A hundred thousand archers showed +In lengthened line the steeds they rode-- +A mighty host, the march to grace +Of Bharat, pride of Raghu's race. +Kaikeyí and Sumitrá came, +And good Kausalyá, dear to fame: +By hopes of Ráma's coming cheered +They in a radiant car appeared. +On fared the noble host to see +Ráma and Lakshman, wild with glee, +And still each other's ear to please, +Of Ráma spoke in words like these: +"When shall our happy eyes behold +Our hero true, and pure, and bold, +So lustrous dark, so strong of arm, +Who keeps the world from woe and harm? +The tears that now our eyeballs dim +Will vanish at the sight of him, +As the whole world's black shadows fly +When the bright sun ascends the sky." + + Conversing thus their way pursued +The city's joyous multitude, +And each in mutual rapture pressed +A friend or neighbour to his breast. +Thus every man of high renown, +And every merchant of the town, +And leading subjects, joyous went +Toward Ráma in his banishment. +And those who worked the potter's wheel, +And artists skilled in gems to deal; +And masters of the weaver's art, +And those who shaped the sword and dart; +And they who golden trinkets made, +And those who plied the fuller's trade; +And servants trained the bath to heat, +And they who dealt in incense sweet; +Physicians in their business skilled, +And those who wine and mead distilled; +And workmen deft in glass who wrought, +And those whose snares the peacock caught; +With them who bored the ear for rings, +Or sawed, or fashioned ivory things; +And those who knew to mix cement, +Or lived by sale of precious scent; +And men who washed, and men who sewed, +And thralls who mid the herds abode; +And fishers of the flood, and they +Who played and sang, and women gay; +And virtuous Bráhmans, Scripture-wise, +Of life approved in all men's eyes; +These swelled the prince's lengthened train, +Borne each in car or bullock wain. +Fair were the robes they wore upon +Their limbs where red-hued unguents shone. +These all in various modes conveyed +Their journey after Bharat made; +The soldiers' hearts with rapture glowed, +Following Bharat on his road, +Their chief whose tender love would fain +Bring his dear brother home again. +With elephant, and horse, and car, +The vast procession travelled far, +And came where Gangá's waves below +The town of Sringavera(361) flow. +There, with his friends and kinsmen nigh, +Dwelt Guha, Ráma's dear ally, +Heroic guardian of the land +With dauntless heart and ready hand. +There for a while the mighty force +That followed Bharat stayed its course, +Gazing on Gangá's bosom stirred +By many a graceful water-bird. +When Bharat viewed his followers there, +And Gangá's water, blest and fair, +The prince, who lore of words possessed, +His councillors and lords addressed: +"The captains of the army call: +Proclaim this day a halt for all, +That so to-morrow, rested, we +May cross this flood that seeks the sea. +Meanwhile, descending to the shore, +The funeral stream I fain would pour +From Gangá's fair auspicious tide +To him, my father glorified." + + Thus Bharat spoke: each peer and lord +Approved his words with one accord, +And bade the weary troops repose +In separate spots where'er they chose. +There by the mighty stream that day, +Most glorious in its vast array +The prince's wearied army lay + In various groups reclined. +There Bharat's hours of night were spent, +While every eager thought he bent +On bringing home from banishment + His brother, great of mind. + + + + +Canto LXXXIV. Guha's Anger. + + +King Guha saw the host spread o'er +The wide expanse of Gangá's shore, +With waving flag and pennon graced, +And to his followers spoke in haste: +"A mighty army meets my eyes, +That rivals Ocean's self in size: +Where'er I look my very mind +No limit to the host can find. +Sure Bharat with some evil thought +His army to our land has brought. +See, huge of form, his flag he rears, +That like an Ebony-tree appears. +He comes with bonds to take and chain, +Or triumph o'er our people slain: +And after, Ráma will he slay,-- +Him whom his father drove away: +The power complete he longs to gain, +And--task too hard--usurp the reign. +So Bharat comes with wicked will +His brother Ráma's blood to spill. +But Ráma's slave and friend am I; +He is my lord and dear ally. +Keep here your watch in arms arrayed +Near Gangá's flood to lend him aid, +And let my gathered servants stand +And line with troops the river strand. +Here let the river keepers meet, +Who flesh and roots and berries eat; +A hundred fishers man each boat +Of the five hundred here afloat, +And let the youthful and the strong +Assemble in defensive throng. +But yet, if, free from guilty thought +'Gainst Ráma, he this land have sought, +The prince's happy host to-day +Across the flood shall make its way." + + He spoke: then bearing in a dish +A gift of honey, meat, and fish, +The king of the Nishádas drew +Toward Bharat for an interview. +When Bharat's noble charioteer +Observed the monarch hastening near, +He duly, skilled in courteous lore, +The tidings to his master bore: +"This aged prince who hither bends +His footsteps with a thousand friends, +Knows, firm ally of Ráma, all +That may in Dandak wood befall: +Therefore, Kakutstha's son, admit +The monarch, as is right and fit: +For doubtless he can clearly tell +Where Ráma now and Lakshman dwell." + + When Bharat heard Sumantra's rede, +To his fair words the prince agreed: +"Go quickly forth," he cried, "and bring +Before my face the aged king." +King Guha, with his kinsmen near, +Rejoiced the summoning to hear: +He nearer drew, bowed low his head, +And thus to royal Bharat said: +"No mansions can our country boast, +And unexpected comes thy host: +But what we have I give thee all: +Rest in the lodging of thy thrall. +See, the Nishádas here have brought +The fruit and roots their hands have sought: +And we have woodland fare beside, +And store of meat both fresh and dried. +To rest their weary limbs, I pray +This night at least thy host may stay: +Then cheered with all we can bestow +To-morrow thou with it mayst go." + + + + +Canto LXXXV. Guha And Bharat. + + +Thus the Nishádas' king besought: +The prince with spirit wisdom-fraught +Replied in seemly words that blent +Deep matter with the argument: +"Thou, friend of him whom I revere, +With honours high hast met me here, +For thou alone wouldst entertain +And feed to-day so vast a train." +In such fair words the prince replied, +Then, pointing to the path he cried: +"Which way aright will lead my feet +To Bharadvája's calm retreat; +For all this land near Gangá's streams +Pathless and hard to traverse seems?" + + Thus spoke the prince: King Guha heard +Delighted every prudent word, +And gazing on that forest wide, +Raised suppliant hands, and thus replied: +"My servants, all the ground who know, +O glorious Prince, with thee shall go +With constant care thy way to guide, +And I will journey by thy side. +But this thy host so wide dispread +Wakes in my heart one doubt and dread, +Lest, threatening Ráma good and great, +Ill thoughts thy journey stimulate." + + But when King Guha, ill at ease, +Declared his fear in words like these, +As pure as is the cloudless sky +With soft voice Bharat made reply: +"Suspect me not: ne'er come the time +For me to plot so foul a crime! +He is my eldest brother, he +Is like a father dear to me. +I go to lead my brother thence +Who makes the wood his residence. +No thought but this thy heart should frame: +This simple truth my lips proclaim." + + Then with glad cheer King Guha cried, +With Bharat's answer gratified: +"Blessed art thou: on earth I see +None who may vie, O Prince, with thee, +Who canst of thy free will resign +The kingdom which unsought is thine. +For this, a name that ne'er shall die, +Thy glory through the worlds shall fly, +Who fain wouldst balm thy brother's pain +And lead the exile home again." + + As Guha thus, and Bharat, each +To other spoke in friendly speech, +The Day-God sank with glory dead, +And night o'er all the sky was spread. +Soon as King Guha's thoughtful care +Had quartered all the army there, +Well honoured, Bharat laid his head +Beside Satrughna on a bed. +But grief for Ráma yet oppressed +High-minded Bharat's faithful breast-- +Such torment little was deserved +By him who ne'er from duty swerved. +The fever raged through every vein +And burnt him with its inward pain: +So when in woods the flames leap free +The fire within consumes the tree. +From heat of burning anguish sprung +The sweat upon his body hung, +As when the sun with fervid glow +On high Himálaya melts the snow. +As, banished from the herd, a bull +Wanders alone and sorrowful. + Thus sighing and distressed, +In misery and bitter grief, +With fevered heart that mocked relief, +Distracted in his mind, the chief + Still mourned and found no rest. + + + + +Canto LXXXVI. Guha's Speech. + + +Guha the king, acquainted well +With all that in the wood befell, +To Bharat the unequalled told +The tale of Lakshman mighty-souled: +"With many an earnest word I spake +To Lakshman as he stayed awake, +And with his bow and shaft in hand +To guard his brother kept his stand: +"Now sleep a little, Lakshman, see +This pleasant bed is strewn for thee: +Hereon thy weary body lay, +And strengthen thee with rest, I pray, +Inured to toil are men like these, +But thou hast aye been nursed in ease. +Rest, duteous-minded! I will keep +My watch while Ráma lies asleep: +For in the whole wide world is none +Dearer to me than Raghu's son. +Harbour no doubt or jealous fear: +I speak the truth with heart sincere: +For from the grace which he has shown +Will glory on my name be thrown: +Great store of merit shall I gain, +And duteous, form no wish in vain. +Let me enforced by many a row +Of followers, armed with shaft and bow +For well-loved Ráma's weal provide +Who lies asleep by Sítá's side. +For through this wood I often go, +And all its shades conceal I know: +And we with conquering arms can meet +A four-fold host arrayed complete." +"With words like these I spoke, designed +To move the high-souled Bharat's mind, +But he upon his duty bent, +Plied his persuasive argument: +"O, how can slumber close mine eyes +When lowly couched with Sítá lies +The royal Ráma? can I give +My heart to joy, or even live? +He whom no mighty demon, no, +Nor heavenly God can overthrow, +See, Guha, how he lies, alas, +With Sítá couched on gathered grass. +By varied labours, long, severe, +By many a prayer and rite austere, +He, Dasaratha's cherished son, +By Fortune stamped, from Heaven was won. +Now as his son is forced to fly, +The king ere long will surely die: +Reft of his guardian hand, forlorn +In widowed grief this land will mourn. +E'en now perhaps, with toil o'erspent, +The women cease their loud lament, +And cries of woe no longer ring +Throughout the palace of the king. +But ah for sad Kausalyá! how +Fare she and mine own mother now? +How fares the king? this night, I think, +Some of the three in death will sink. +With hopes upon Satrughna set +My mother may survive as yet, +But the sad queen will die who bore +The hero, for her grief is sore. +His cherished wish that would have made +Dear Ráma king, so long delayed, +"Too late! too late!" the king will cry, +And conquered by his misery die. +When Fate has brought the mournful day +Which sees my father pass away, +How happy in their lives are they +Allowed his funeral rites to pay. +Our exile o'er, with him who ne'er +Turns from the oath his lips may swear, +May we returning safe and well +gain in fair Ayodhyá dwell." +Thus Bharat stood with many a sigh +Lamenting, and the night went by. +Soon as the morning light shone fair +In votive coils both bound their hair. +And then I sent them safely o'er +And left them on the farther shore. +With Sítá then they onward passed, +Their coats of bark about them cast, + Their locks like hermits' bound, +The mighty tamers of the foe, +Each with his arrows and his bow, + Went over the rugged ground, +Proud in their strength and undeterred +Like elephants that lead the herd, + And gazing oft around." + + + + +Canto LXXXVII. Guha's Story. + + +That speech of Guha Bharat heard +With grief and tender pity stirred, +And as his ears the story drank, +Deep in his thoughtful heart it sank. +His large full eyes in anguish rolled, +His trembling limbs grew stiff and cold; +Then fell he, like a tree uptorn, +In woe too grievous to be borne. +When Guha saw the long-armed chief +Whose eye was like a lotus leaf, +With lion shoulders strong and fair, +High-mettled, prostrate in despair,-- +Pale, bitterly afflicted, he +Reeled as in earthquake reels a tree. +But when Satrughna standing nigh +Saw his dear brother helpless lie, +Distraught with woe his head he bowed, +Embraced him oft and wept aloud. +Then Bharat's mothers came, forlorn +Of their dear king, with fasting worn, +And stood with weeping eyes around +The hero prostrate on the ground. +Kausalyá, by her woe oppressed, +The senseless Bharat's limbs caressed, +As a fond cow in love and fear +Caresses oft her youngling dear: +Then yielding to her woe she said, +Weeping and sore disquieted: +"What torments, O my son, are these +Of sudden pain or swift disease? +The lives of us and all the line +Depend, dear child, on only thine. +Ráma and Lakshman forced to flee, +I live by naught but seeing thee: +For as the king has past away +Thou art my only help to-day. +Hast thou, perchance, heard evil news +Of Lakshman, which thy soul subdues, +Or Ráma dwelling with his spouse-- +My all is he--neath forest boughs?" + + Then slowly gathering sense and strength +The weeping hero rose at length, +And words like these to Guha spake, +That bade Kausalyá comfort take: +"Where lodged the prince that night? and where +Lakshman the brave, and Sítá fair? +Show me the couch whereon he lay, +Tell me the food he ate, I pray." + + Then Guha the Nishádas' king +Replied to Bharat's questioning: +"Of all I had I brought the best +To serve my good and honoured guest +Food of each varied kind I chose, +And every fairest fruit that grows. +Ráma the hero truly brave +Declined the gift I humbly gave: +His Warrior part he ne'er forgot, +And what I brought accepted not: +"No gifts, my friend, may we accept: +Our law is, Give, and must be kept." +The high-souled chief, O Monarch, thus +With gracious words persuaded us. +Then calm and still, absorbed in thought, +He drank the water Lakshman brought, +And then, obedient to his vows, +He fasted with his gentle spouse. +So Lakshman too from food abstained, +And sipped the water that remained: +Then with ruled lips, devoutly staid, +The three(362) their evening worship paid. +Then Lakshman with unwearied care +Brought heaps of sacred grass, and there +With his own hands he quickly spread, +For Ráma's rest, a pleasant bed, +And faithful Sítá's too, where they +Reclining each by other lay. +Then Lakshman bathed their feet, and drew +A little distance from the two. +Here stands the tree which lent them shade, +Here is the grass beneath it laid, +Where Ráma and his consort spent +The night together ere they went. +Lakshman, whose arms the foeman quell, +Watched all the night as sentinel, + And kept his great bow strung: +His hand was gloved, his arm was braced, +Two well-filled quivers at his waist, + With deadly arrows, hung. +I took my shafts and trusty bow, +And with that tamer of the foe + Stood ever wakeful near, +And with my followers, bow in hand, +Behind me ranged, a ready band, + Kept watch o'er Indra's peer." + + + + +Canto LXXXVIII. The Ingudí Tree. + + +When Bharat with each friend and peer +Had heard that tale so full and clear, +They went together to the tree +The bed which Ráma pressed to see. +Then Bharat to his mothers said: +"Behold the high-souled hero's bed: +These tumbled heaps of grass betray +Where he that night with Sítá lay: +Unmeet, the heir of fortune high +Thus on the cold bare earth should lie, +The monarch's son, in counsel sage, +Of old imperial lineage. +That lion-lord whose noble bed +With finest skins of deer was spread,-- +How can he now endure to press +The bare earth, cold and comfortless! +This sudden fall from bliss to grief +Appears untrue, beyond belief: +My senses are distraught: I seem +To view the fancies of a dream. +There is no deity so great, +No power in heaven can master Fate, +If Ráma, Dasaratha's heir, +Lay on the ground and slumbered there; +And lovely Sítá, she who springs +From fair Videha's ancient kings, +Ráma's dear wife, by all adored, +Lay on the earth beside her lord. +Here was his couch, upon this heap +He tossed and turned in restless sleep: +On the hard soil each manly limb +Has stamped the grass with signs of him. +That night, it seems, fair Sítá spent +Arrayed in every ornament, +For here and there my eyes behold +Small particles of glistering gold. +She laid her outer garment here, +For still some silken threads appear, +How dear in her devoted eyes +Must be the bed where Ráma lies, +Where she so tender could repose +And by his side forget her woes. +Alas, unhappy, guilty me! +For whom the prince was forced to flee, +And chief of Raghu's sons and best, +A bed like this with Sítá pressed. +Son of a royal sire whose hand +Ruled paramount o'er every land, +Could he who every joy bestows, +Whose body like the lotus shows, +The friend of all, who charms the sight, +Whose flashing eyes are darkly bright, +Leave the dear kingdom, his by right, +Unmeet for woe, the heir of bliss, +And lie upon a bed like this? +Great joy and happy fate are thine, +O Lakshman, marked with each fair sign, +Whose faithful footsteps follow still +Thy brother in his hour of ill. +And blest is Sítá, nobly good, +Who dwells with Ráma in the wood. +Ours is, alas, a doubtful fate +Of Ráma reft and desolate. +My royal sire has gained the skies, +In woods the high-souled hero lies; +The state is wrecked and tempest-tossed, +A vessel with her rudder lost. +Yet none in secret thought has planned +With hostile might to seize the land: +Though forced in distant wilds to dwell, +The hero's arm protects it well. +Unguarded, with deserted wall, +No elephant or steed in stall, +My father's royal city shows +Her portals open to her foes, +Of bold protectors reft and bare, +Defenceless in her dark despair: +But still her foes the wish restrain, +As men from poisoned cates refrain. +I from this hour my nights will pass +Couched on the earth or gathered grass, +Eat only fruit and roots, and wear +A coat of bark, and matted hair. +I in the woods will pass, content, +For him the term of banishment; +So shall I still unbroken save +The promise which the hero gave. +While I remain for Ráma there, +Satrughna will my exile share, +And Ráma in his home again, +With Lakshman, o'er Ayodhyá reign, +for him, to rule and guard the state, +The twice-born men shall consecrate. +O, may the Gods I serve incline +To grant this earnest wish of mine! +If when I bow before his feet +And with all moving arts entreat, + He still deny my prayer, +Then with my brother will I live: +He must, he must permission give, + Roaming in forests there." + + + + +Canto LXXXIX. The Passage Of Gangá. + + +That night the son of Raghu lay +On Gangá's bank till break of day: +Then with the earliest light he woke +And thus to brave Satrughna spoke. +"Rise up, Satrughna, from thy bed: +Why sleepest thou the night is fled. +See how the sun who chases night +Wakes every lotus with his light. +Arise, arise, and first of all +The lord of Sringavera call, +For he his friendly aid will lend +Our army o'er the flood to send." + + Thus urged, Satrughna answered: "I, +Remembering Ráma, sleepless lie." +As thus the brothers, each to each, +The lion-mettled, ended speech, +Came Guha, the Nishádas' king, +And spoke with kindly questioning: +"Hast thou in comfort passed," he cried, +"The night upon the river side? +With thee how fares it? and are these, +Thy soldiers, healthy and at ease?" +Thus the Nishádas' lord inquired +In gentle words which love inspired, +And Bharat, Ráma's faithful slave, +Thus to the king his answer gave: +"The night has sweetly passed, and we +Are highly honoured, King, by thee. +Now let thy servants boats prepare, +Our army o'er the stream to bear." + + The speech of Bharat Guha heard, +And swift to do his bidding stirred. +Within the town the monarch sped +And to his ready kinsmen said: +"Awake, each kinsman, rise, each friend! +May every joy your lives attend. +Gather each boat upon the shore +And ferry all the army o'er." +Thus Guha spoke: nor they delayed, +But, rising quick, their lord obeyed, +And soon, from every side secured, +Five hundred boats were ready moored. +Some reared aloft the mystic sign,(363) +And mighty bells were hung in line: +Of firmest build, gay flags they bore, +And sailors for the helm and oar. +One such King Guha chose, whereon, +Of fair white cloth, an awning shone, +And sweet musicians charmed the ear,-- +And bade his servants urge it near. +Then Bharat swiftly sprang on board, +And then Satrughna, famous lord, +To whom, with many a royal dame, +Kausalyá and Sumitrá came. +The household priest went first in place, +The elders, and the Bráhman race, +And after them the monarch's train +Of women borne in many a wain. +Then high to heaven the shouts of those +Who fired the army's huts,(364) arose, +With theirs who bathed along the shore, +Or to the boats the baggage bore. +Full freighted with that mighty force +The boats sped swiftly on their course, +By royal Guha's servants manned, +And gentle gales the banners fanned. +Some boats a crowd of dames conveyed, +In others noble coursers neighed; +Some chariots and their cattle bore, +Some precious wealth and golden store. +Across the stream each boat was rowed, +There duly disembarked its load, +And then returning on its way, +Sped here and there in merry play. +Then swimming elephants appeared +With flying pennons high upreared. +And as the drivers urged them o'er, +The look of winged mountains wore. +Some men in barges reached the strand, +Others on rafts came safe to land: +Some buoyed with pitchers crossed the tide, +And others on their arms relied. +Thus with the help the monarch gave +The army crossed pure Gangá's wave: +Then in auspicious hour it stood +Within Prayága's famous wood. +The prince with cheering words addressed +His weary men, and bade them rest + Where'er they chose and he, +With priest and deacon by his side, +To Bharadvája's dwelling hied + That best of saints to see. + + + + +Canto XC. The Hermitage. + + +The prince of men a league away +Saw where the hermit's dwelling lay, +Then with his lords his path pursued, +And left his warrior multitude. +On foot, as duty taught his mind, +He left his warlike gear behind; +Two robes of linen cloth he wore, +And bade Vasishtha walk before. +Then Bharat from his lords withdrew +When Bharadvája came in view, +And toward the holy hermit went +Behind Vasishtha, reverent. +When Bharadvája, saint austere, +Saw good Vasishtha drawing near, +He cried, upspringing from his seat, +"The grace-gift bring, my friend to greet." +When Saint Vasishtha near him drew, +And Bharat paid the reverence due, +The glorious hermit was aware +That Dasaratha's son was there. +The grace-gift, water for their feet +He gave, and offered fruit to eat; +Then, duty-skilled, with friendly speech +In seemly order questioned each: +"How fares it in Ayodhyá now +With treasury and army? how +With kith and kin and friends most dear, +With councillor, and prince, and peer?" +But, for he knew the king was dead, +Of Dasaratha naught he said. +Vasishtha and the prince in turn +Would of the hermit's welfare learn: +Of holy fires they fain would hear, +Of pupils, trees, and birds, and deer. +The glorious saint his answer made +That all was well in holy shade: +Then love of Ráma moved his breast, +And thus he questioned of his guest: +"Why art thou here, O Prince, whose band +With kingly sway protects the land? +Declare the cause, explain the whole, +For yet some doubt disturbs my soul. +He whom Kausalyá bare, whose might +The foemen slays, his line's delight, +He who with wife and brother sent +Afar now roam in banishment, +Famed prince, to whom his father spake +This order for a woman's sake: +"Away! and in the forest spend +Thy life till fourteen years shall end"-- +Has thou the wish to harm him, bent +On sin against the innocent? +Wouldst thou thine elder's realm enjoy +Without a thorn that can annoy?" + + With sobbing voice and tearful eye +Thus Bharat sadly made reply: +"Ah lost am I, if thou, O Saint, +Canst thus in thought my heart attaint: +No warning charge from thee I need; +Ne'er could such crime from me proceed. +The words my guilty mother spake +When fondly jealous for my sake-- +Think not that I, to triumph moved, +Those words approve or e'er approved. +O Hermit, I have sought this place +To win the lordly hero's grace, +To throw me at my brother's feet +And lead him to his royal seat. +To this, my journey's aim and end, +Thou shouldst, O Saint, thy favour lend: +Where is the lord of earth? do thou, +Most holy, say, where roams he now?" + + Then, by the saint Vasishtha pressed, + And all the gathered priests beside, + To Bharat's dutiful request + The hermit graciously replied: +"Worthy of thee, O Prince, this deed, +True son of Raghu's ancient seed. +I know thee reverent, well-controlled, +The glory of the good of old. +I grant thy prayer: in this pursuit +I know thy heart is resolute. +'Tis for thy sake those words I said +That wider still thy fame may spread. +I know where Ráma, duty-tried, +His brother, and his wife abide. +Where Chitrakúta's heights arise +Thy brother Ráma's dwelling lies. +Go thither with the morning's light, +And stay with all thy lords tonight: +For I would show thee honour high, +And do not thou my wish deny." + + + + +Canto XCI. Bharadvája's Feast. + + +Soon as he saw the prince's mind +To rest that day was well inclined, +He sought Kaikeyí's son to please +With hospitable courtesies. +Then Bharat to the saint replied: +"Our wants are more than satisfied. +The gifts which honoured strangers greet, +And water for our weary feet +Hast thou bestowed with friendly care, +And every choice of woodland fare." + + Then Bharadvája spoke, a smile +Playing upon his lips the while: +"I know, dear Prince, thy friendly mind +Will any fare sufficient find, +But gladly would I entertain +And banquet all thine armed train: +Such is my earnest wish: do thou +This longing of my heart allow, +Why hast thou hither bent thy way, +And made thy troops behind thee stay? +Why unattended? couldst thou not +With friends and army seek this spot?" + + Bharat, with reverent hands raised high, +To that great hermit made reply: +"My troops, for awe of thee, O Sage, +I brought not to thy hermitage: +Troops of a king or monarch's son +A hermit's home should ever shun. +Behind me comes a mighty train +Wide spreading o'er the ample plain, +Where every chief and captain leads +Men, elephants, and mettled steeds. +I feared, O reverend Sage, lest these +Might harm the holy ground and trees, +Springs might be marred and cots o'erthrown, +So with the priests I came alone." + + "Bring all thy host," the hermit cried, +And Bharat, to his joy, complied. +Then to the chapel went the sire, +Where ever burnt the sacred fire, +And first, in order due, with sips +Of water purified his lips: +To Visvakarmá, then he prayed, +His hospitable feast to aid: +"Let Visvakarmá hear my call, +The God who forms and fashions all: +A mighty banquet I provide, +Be all my wants this day supplied. +Lord Indra at their head, the three(365) +Who guard the worlds I call to me: +A mighty host this day I feed, +Be now supplied my every need. +Let all the streams that eastward go, +And those whose waters westering flow, +Both on the earth and in the sky, +Flow hither and my wants supply. +Be some with ardent liquor filled, +And some with wine from flowers distilled, +While some their fresh cool streams retain +Sweet as the juice of sugar-cane. +I call the Gods, I call the band +Of minstrels that around them stand: +I call the Háhá and Huhú, +I call the sweet Visvávasu, +I call the heavenly wives of these +With all the bright Apsarases, +Alambúshá of beauty rare, +The charmer of the tangled hair, +Ghritáchí and Visváchi fair, +Hemá and Bhímá sweet to view, +And lovely Nágadantá too, +And all the sweetest nymphs who stand +By Indra or by Brahmá's hand-- +I summon these with all their train +And Tumburu to lead the strain. +Here let Kuvera's garden rise +Which far in Northern Kuru(366) lies: +For leaves let cloth and gems entwine, +And let its fruit be nymphs divine. +Let Soma(367) give the noblest food +To feed the mighty multitude, +Of every kind, for tooth and lip, +To chew, to lick, to suck, and sip. +Let wreaths, where fairest flowers abound, +Spring from the trees that bloom around. +Each sort of wine to woo the taste, +And meats of every kind be placed." + + Thus spake the hermit self-restrained, +With proper tone by rules ordained, +On deepest meditation bent, +In holy might preëminent. +Then as with hands in reverence raised +Absorbed in thought he eastward gazed, +The deities he thus addressed +Came each in semblance manifest. +Delicious gales that cooled the frame +From Malaya and Dardar came, +That kissed those scented hills and threw +Auspicious fragrance where they blew. +Then falling fast in sweetest showers +Came from the sky immortal flowers, +And all the airy region round +With heavenly drums was made to sound. +Then breathed a soft celestial breeze, +Then danced the bright Apsarases, +The minstrels and the Gods advanced, +And warbling lutes the soul entranced. +The earth and sky that music filled, +And through each ear it softly thrilled, +As from the heavenly quills it fell +With time and tune attempered well. +Soon as the minstrels ceased to play +And airs celestial died away, +The troops of Bharat saw amazed +What Visvakarmá's art had raised. +On every side, five leagues around, +All smooth and level lay the ground, +With fresh green grass that charmed the sight +Like sapphires blent with lazulite. +There the Wood-apple hung its load, +The Mango and the Citron glowed, +The Bel and scented Jak were there, +And Apelá with fruitage fair. +There, brought from Northern Kuru, stood +Rich in delights, the glorious wood, +And many a stream was seen to glide +With flowering trees along its side. +There mansions rose with four wide halls, +And elephants and chargers' stalls, +And many a house of royal state, +Triumphal arc and bannered gate. +With noble doorways, sought the sky, +Like a pale cloud, a palace high, +Which far and wide rare fragrance shed, +With wreaths of white engarlanded. +Square was its shape, its halls were wide, +With many a seat and couch supplied, +Drink of all kinds, and every meat +Such as celestial Gods might eat. +Then at the bidding of the seer +Kaikeyí's strong-armed son drew near, +And passed within that fair abode +Which with the noblest jewels glowed. +Then, as Vasishtha led the way, +The councillors, in due array, +Followed delighted and amazed +And on the glorious structure gazed. +Then Bharat, Raghu's son, drew near +The kingly throne, with prince and peer, +Whereby the chouri in the shade +Of the white canopy was laid. +Before the throne he humbly bent +And honoured Ráma, reverent, +Then in his hand the chouri bore, +And sat where sits a councillor. +His ministers and household priest +Sat by degrees from chief to least, +Then sat the captain of the host +And all the men he honoured most. +Then when the saint his order gave, +Each river with enchanted wave +Rolled milk and curds divinely sweet +Before the princely Bharat's feet; +And dwellings fair on either side, +With gay white plaster beautified, +Their heavenly roofs were seen to lift, +The Bráhman Bharadvája's gift. +Then straight by Lord Kuvera sent, +Gay with celestial ornament +Of bright attire and jewels' shine, +Came twenty thousand nymphs divine: +The man on whom those beauties glanced +That moment felt his soul entranced. +With them from Nandan's blissful shades +Came twenty thousand heavenly maids. +Tumburu, Nárad, Gopa came, +And Sutanu, like radiant flame, +The kings of the Gandharva throng, +And ravished Bharat with their song. +Then spoke the saint, and swift obeyed +Alambúshá, the fairest maid, +And Misrakesí bright to view, +Ramaná, Pundríká too, +And danced to him with graceful ease +The dances of Apsarases. +All chaplets that by Gods are worn, +Or Chaitraratha's graves adorn, +Bloomed by the saint's command arrayed +On branches in Prayága's shade. +When at the saint's command the breeze +Made music with the Vilva trees, +To wave in rhythmic beat began +The boughs of each Myrobolan, +And holy fig-trees wore the look +Of dancers, as their leaflets shook. +The fair Tamála, palm, and pine, +With trees that tower and plants that twine, +The sweetly varying forms displayed +Of stately dame or bending maid. +Here men the foaming winecup quaffed, +Here drank of milk full many a draught, +And tasted meats of every kind, +Well dressed, whatever pleased their mind. +Then beauteous women, seven or eight, +Stood ready by each man to wait: +Beside the stream his limbs they stripped +And in the cooling water dipped. +And then the fair ones, sparkling eyed, +With soft hands rubbed his limbs and dried, +And sitting on the lovely bank +Held up the winecup as he drank. +Nor did the grooms forget to feed +Camel and mule and ox and steed, +For there were stores of roasted grain, +Of honey and of sugar-cane. +So fast the wild excitement spread +Among the warriors Bharat led, +That all the mighty army through +The groom no more his charger knew, +And he who drove might seek in vain +To tell his elephant again. +With every joy and rapture fired, +Entranced with all the heart desired, +The myriads of the host that night +Revelled delirious with delight. +Urged by the damsels at their side +In wild delight the warriors cried: +"Ne'er will we seek Ayodhyá, no, +Nor yet to Dandak forest go: +Here will we stay: may happy fate +On Bharat and on Ráma wait." +Thus cried the army gay and free +Exulting in their lawless glee, +Both infantry and those who rode +On elephants, or steeds bestrode, +Ten thousand voices shouting, "This +Is heaven indeed for perfect bliss." +With garlands decked they idly strayed, +And danced and laughed and sang and played. +At length as every soldier eyed, +With food like Amrit satisfied, +Each dainty cate and tempting meat, +No longer had he care to eat. +Thus soldier, servant, dame, and slave +Received whate'er the wish might crave. +As each in new-wrought clothes arrayed +Enjoyed the feast before him laid. +Each man was seen in white attire +Unstained by spot or speck of mire: +None was athirst or hungry there, +And none had dust upon his hair. +On every side in woody dells +Was milky food in bubbling wells, +And there were all-supplying cows +And honey dropping from the boughs. +Nor wanted lakes of flower-made drink +With piles of meat upon the brink, +Boiled, stewed, and roasted, varied cheer, +Peachick and jungle-fowl and deer, +There was the flesh of kid and boar, +And dainty sauce in endless store, +With juice of flowers concocted well, +And soup that charmed the taste and smell, +And pounded fruits of bitter taste, +And many a bath was ready placed +Down by each river's shelving side +There stood great basins well supplied, +And laid therein, of dazzling sheen, +White brushes for the teeth were seen, +And many a covered box wherein +Was sandal powdered for the skin. +And mirrors bright with constant care, +And piles of new attire were there, +And store of sandals and of shoes, +Thousands of pairs, for all to choose: +Eye-unguents, combs for hair and beard, +Umbrellas fair and bows appeared. +Lakes gleamed, that lent digestive aid,(368) +And some for pleasant bathing made, +With waters fair, and smooth incline +For camels, horses, mules, and kine. +There saw they barley heaped on high +The countless cattle to supply: +The golden grain shone fair and bright +As sapphires or the lazulite. +To all the gathered host it seemed +As if that magic scene they dreamed, +And wonder, as they gazed, increased +At Bharadvája's glorious feast. + + Thus in the hermit's grove they spent +That night in joy and merriment, +Blest as the Gods who take their ease +Under the shade of Nandan's trees. +Each minstrel bade the saint adieu, +And to his blissful mansion flew, +And every stream and heavenly dame +Returned as swiftly as she came. + + + + +Canto XCII. Bharat's Farewell. + + +So Bharat with his army spent +The watches of the night content, +And gladly, with the morning's light +Drew near his host the anchorite. +When Bharadvája saw him stand +With hand in reverence joined to hand, +When fires of worship had been fed, +He looked upon the prince and said: +"O blameless son, I pray thee tell, +Did the past night content thee well? +Say if the feast my care supplied +Thy host of followers gratified." + + His hands he joined, his head he bent +And spoke in answer reverent +To the most high and radiant sage +Who issued from his hermitage: +"Well have I passed the night: thy feast +Gave joy to every man and beast; +And I, great lord, and every peer +Were satisfied with sumptuous cheer, +Thy banquet has delighted all +From highest chief to meanest thrall, +And rich attire and drink and meat +Banished the thought of toil and heat. +And now, O Hermit good and great, +A boon of thee I supplicate. +To Ráma's side my steps I bend: +Do thou with friendly eye commend. +O tell me how to guide my feet +To virtuous Ráma's lone retreat: +Great Hermit, I entreat thee, say +How far from here and which the way." + + Thus by fraternal love inspired +The chieftain of the saint inquired: +Then thus replied the glorious seer +Of matchless might, of vows austere: +"Ere the fourth league from here be passed, +Amid a forest wild and vast, +Stands Chitrakúta's mountain tall, +Lovely with wood and waterfall. +North of the mountain thou wilt see +The beauteous stream Mandákiní, +Where swarm the waterfowl below, +And gay trees on the margin grow. +Then will a leafy cot between +The river and the hill be seen: +'Tis Ráma's, and the princely pair +Of brothers live for certain there. +Hence to the south thine army lead, +And then more southward still proceed, +So shalt thou find his lone retreat, +And there the son of Raghu meet." + + Soon as the ordered march they knew, +The widows of the monarch flew, +Leaving their cars, most meet to ride, +And flocked to Bharadvája's side. +There with the good Sumitrá Queen +Kausalyá, sad and worn, was seen, +Caressing, still with sorrow faint, +The feet of that illustrious saint, +Kaikeyí too, her longings crossed, +Reproached of all, her object lost, +Before the famous hermit came, +And clasped his feet, o'erwhelmed with shame. +With circling steps she humbly went +Around the saint preëminent, +And stood not far from Bharat's side +With heart oppressed, and heavy-eyed. +Then the great seer, who never broke +One holy vow, to Bharat spoke: +"Speak, Raghu's son: I fain would learn +The story of each queen in turn." + + Obedient to the high request +By Bharadvája thus addressed, +His reverent hands together laid, +He, skilled in speech, his answer made: +"She whom, O Saint, thou seest here +A Goddess in her form appear, +Was the chief consort of the king, +Now worn with fast and sorrowing. +As Aditi in days of yore +The all-preserving Vishnu bore, +Kausalyá bore with happy fate +Lord Ráma of the lion's gait. +She who, transfixed with torturing pangs, +On her left arm so fondly hangs, +As when her withering leaves decay +Droops by the wood the Cassia spray, +Sumitrá, pained with woe, is she, +The consort second of the three: +Two princely sons the lady bare, +Fair as the Gods in heaven are fair. +And she, the wicked dame through whom +My brothers' lives are wrapped in gloom, +And mourning for his offspring dear, +The king has sought his heavenly sphere,-- +Proud, foolish-hearted, swift to ire, +Self-fancied darling of my sire, +Kaikeyí, most ambitious queen, +Unlovely with her lovely mien, +My mother she, whose impious will +Is ever bent on deeds of ill, +In whom the root and spring I see +Of all this woe which crushes me." + + Quick breathing like a furious snake, +With tears and sobs the hero spake, +With reddened eyes aglow with rage. +And Bharadvája, mighty sage, +Supreme in wisdom, calm and grave, +In words like these good counsel gave: +"O Bharat, hear the words I say; +On her the fault thou must not lay: +For many a blessing yet will spring +From banished Ráma's wandering." +And Bharat, with that promise cheered, +Went circling round that saint revered, +He humbly bade farewell, and then +Gave orders to collect his men. +Prompt at the summons thousands flew +To cars which noble coursers drew, +Bright-gleaming, glorious to behold, +Adorned with wealth of burnished gold. +Then female elephants and male, +Gold-girthed, with flags that wooed the gale, +Marched with their bright bells' tinkling chime +Like clouds when ends the summer time: +Some cars were huge and some were light, +For heavy draught or rapid flight, +Of costly price, of every kind, +With clouds of infantry behind. +The dames, Kausalyá at their head, +Were in the noblest chariots led, +And every gentle bosom beat +With hope the banished prince to meet. +The royal Bharat, glory-crowned, +With all his retinue around, +Borne in a beauteous litter rode, +Like the young moon and sun that glowed. +The army as it streamed along, +Cars, elephants, in endless throng, +Showed, marching on its southward way, +Like autumn clouds in long array. + + + + +Canto XCIII. Chitrakúta In Sight. + + +As through the woods its way pursued +That mighty bannered multitude, +Wild elephants in terror fled +With all the startled herds they led, +And bears and deer were seen on hill, +In forest glade, by every rill. +Wide as the sea from coast to coast, +The high-souled Bharat's mighty host +Covered the earth as cloudy trains +Obscure the sky when fall the rains. +The stately elephants he led, +And countless steeds the land o'erspread, +So closely crowded that between +Their serried ranks no ground was seen. +Then when the host had travelled far, +And steeds were worn who drew the car, +The glorious Bharat thus addressed +Vasishtha, of his lords the best: +"The spot, methinks, we now behold +Of which the holy hermit told, +For, as his words described, I trace +Each several feature of the place: +Before us Chitrakúta shows, +Mandákiní beside us flows: +Afar umbrageous woods arise +Like darksome clouds that veil the skies. +Now tread these mountain-beasts of mine +On Chitrakúta's fair incline. +The trees their rain of blossoms shed +On table-lands beneath them spread, +As from black clouds the floods descend +When the hot days of summer end. +Satrughna, look, the mountain see +Where heavenly minstrels wander free, +And horses browse beneath the steep, +Countless as monsters in the deep. +Scared by my host the mountain deer +Starting with tempest speed appear +Like the long lines of cloud that fly +In autumn through the windy sky. +See, every warrior shows his head +With fragrant blooms engarlanded; +All look like southern soldiers who +Lift up their shields of azure hue. +This lonely wood beneath the hill, +That was so dark and drear and still, +Covered with men in endless streams +Now like Ayodhyá's city seems. +The dust which countless hoofs excite +Obscures the sky and veils the light; +But see, swift winds those clouds dispel +As if they strove to please me well. +See, guided in their swift career +By many a skilful charioteer, +Those cars by fleetest coursers drawn +Race onward over glade and lawn. +Look, startled as the host comes near +The lovely peacocks fly in fear, +Gorgeous as if the fairest blooms +Of earth had glorified their plumes. +Look where the sheltering covert shows +The trooping deer, both bucks and does, +That occupy in countless herds +This mountain populous with birds. +Most lovely to my mind appears +This place which every charm endears: +Fair as the road where tread the Blest; +Here holy hermits take their rest. +Then let the army onward press +And duly search each green recess +For the two lion-lords, till we +Ráma once more and Lakshman see." + + Thus Bharat spoke: and hero bands +Of men with weapons in their hands +Entered the tangled forest: then +A spire of smoke appeared in ken. +Soon as they saw the rising smoke +To Bharat they returned and spoke: +"No fire where men are not: 'tis clear +That Raghu's sons are dwelling here. +Or if not here those heroes dwell +Whose mighty arms their foeman quell, +Still other hermits here must be +Like Ráma, true and good as he." + + His ears attentive Bharat lent +To their resistless argument, +Then to his troops the chief who broke +His foe's embattled armies spoke: +"Here let the troops in silence stay; +One step beyond they must not stray. +Come Dhrishti and Sumantra, you +With me alone the path pursue." +Their leader's speech the warriors heard, +And from his place no soldier stirred, +And Bharat bent his eager eyes +Where curling smoke was seen to rise. + + The host his order well obeyed, +And halting there in silence stayed +Watching where from the thicket's shade + They saw the smoke appear. +And joy through all the army ran, +"Soon shall we meet," thought every man, + "The prince we hold so dear." + + + + +Canto XCIV. Chitrakúta. + + +There long the son of Raghu dwelt +And love for hill and wood he felt. +Then his Videhan spouse to please +And his own heart of woe to ease, +Like some Immortal--Indra so +Might Swarga's charms to Sachí show-- +Drew her sweet eyes to each delight +Of Chitrakúta's lovely height: +"Though reft of power and kingly sway, +Though friends and home are far away, +I cannot mourn my altered lot, +Enamoured of this charming spot. +Look, darling, on this noble hill +Which sweet birds with their music fill, +Bright with a thousand metal dyes +His lofty summits cleave the skies. +See, there a silvery sheen is spread, +And there like blood the rocks are red. +There shows a streak of emerald green, +And pink and yellow glow between. +There where the higher peaks ascend, +Crystal and flowers and topaz blend, +And others flash their light afar +Like mercury or some fair star: +With such a store of metals dyed +The king of hills is glorified. +There through the wild birds' populous home +The harmless bear and tiger roam: +Hyænas range the woody slopes +With herds of deer and antelopes. +See, love, the trees that clothe his side +All lovely in their summer pride, +In richest wealth of leaves arrayed, +With flower and fruit and light and shade, +Look where the young Rose-apple glows; +What loaded boughs the Mango shows; +See, waving in the western wind +The light leaves of the Tamarind, +And mark that giant Peepul through +The feathery clump of tall bamboo.(369) +Look, on the level lands above, +Delighting in successful love +In sweet enjoyment many a pair +Of heavenly minstrels revels there, +While overhanging boughs support +Their swords and mantles as they sport: +Then see that pleasant shelter where +Play the bright Daughters of the Air.(370) +The mountain seems with bright cascade +And sweet rill bursting from the shade, +Like some majestic elephant o'er +Whose burning head the torrents pour. +Where breathes the man who would not feel +Delicious languor o'er him steal, +As the young morning breeze that springs +From the cool cave with balmy wings, +Breathes round him laden with the scent +Of bud and blossom dew-besprent? +If many autumns here I spent +With thee, my darling innocent, +And Lakshman, I should never know +The torture of the fires of woe, +This varied scene so charms my sight, +This mount so fills me with delight, +Where flowers in wild profusion spring, +And ripe fruits glow and sweet birds sing. +My beauteous one, a double good +Springs from my dwelling in the wood: +Loosed is the bond my sire that tied, +And Bharat too is gratified. +My darling, dost thou feel with me +Delight from every charm we see, +Of which the mind and every sense +Feel the enchanting influence? +My fathers who have passed away, +The royal saints, were wont to say, +That life in woodland shades like this +Secures a king immortal bliss. +See, round the hill at random thrown, +Huge masses lie of rugged stone +Of every shape and many a hue, +Yellow and white and red and blue. +But all is fairer still by night: +Each rock reflects a softer light, +When the whole mount from foot to crest +In robes of lambent flame is dressed; +When from a million herbs a blaze +Of their own luminous glory plays, +And clothed in fire each deep ravine, +Each pinnacle and crag is seen. +Some parts the look of mansions wear, +And others are as gardens fair, +While others seem a massive block +Of solid undivided rock. +Behold those pleasant beds o'erlaid +With lotus leaves, for lovers made, +Where mountain birch and costus throw +Cool shadows on the pair below. +See where the lovers in their play +Have cast their flowery wreaths away, +And fruit and lotus buds that crowned +Their brows lie trodden on the ground. +North Kuru's realm is fair to see, +Vasvaukasárá,(371) Naliní,(372) +But rich in fruit and blossom still +More fair is Chitrakúta's hill. +Here shall the years appointed glide +With thee, my beauty, by my side, + And Lakshman ever near; +Here shall I live in all delight, +Make my ancestral fame more bright, +Tread in their path who walk aright, + And to my oath adhere." + + + + +Canto XCV. Mandákiní. + + +Then Ráma, like the lotus eyed, +Descended from the mountain side, +And to the Maithil lady showed +The lovely stream that softly flowed. +And thus Ayodhyá's lord addressed +His bride, of dames the loveliest, +Child of Videha's king, her face +Bright with the fair moon's tender grace: +"How sweetly glides, O darling, look, +Mandákiní's delightful brook, +Adorned with islets, blossoms gay, +And sárases and swans at play! +The trees with which her banks are lined +Show flowers and fruit of every kind: +The match in radiant sheen is she +Of King Kuvera's Naliní.(373) +My heart exults with pleasure new +The shelving band and ford to view, +Where gathering herds of thirsty deer +Disturb the wave that ran so clear. +Now look, those holy hermits mark +In skins of deer and coats of bark; +With twisted coils of matted hair, +The reverend men are bathing there, +And as they lift their arms on high +The Lord of Day they glorify: +These best of saints, my large-eyed spouse, +Are constant to their sacred vows. +The mountain dances while the trees +Bend their proud summits to the breeze, +And scatter many a flower and bud +From branches that o'erhang the flood. +There flows the stream like lucid pearl, +Round islets here the currents whirl, +And perfect saints from middle air +Are flocking to the waters there. +See, there lie flowers in many a heap +From boughs the whistling breezes sweep, +And others wafted by the gale +Down the swift current dance and sail. +Now see that pair of wild-fowl rise, +Exulting with their joyful cries: +Hark, darling, wafted from afar +How soft their pleasant voices are. +To gaze on Chitrakúta's hill, +To look upon this lovely rill, +To bend mine eyes on thee, dear wife, +Is sweeter than my city life. +Come, bathe we in the pleasant rill +Whose dancing waves are never still, +Stirred by those beings pure from sin, +The sanctities who bathe therein: +Come, dearest, to the stream descend, +Approach her as a darling friend, +And dip thee in the silver flood +Which lotuses and lilies stud. +Let this fair hill Ayodhyá seem, +Its silvan things her people deem, +And let these waters as they flow +Our own beloved Sarjú show. +How blest, mine own dear love, am I; +Thou, fond and true, art ever nigh, +And duteous, faithful Lakshman stays +Beside me, and my word obeys. +Here every day I bathe me thrice, +Fruit, honey, roots for food suffice, +And ne'er my thoughts with longing stray +To distant home or royal sway. +For who this charming brook can see +Where herds of roedeer wander free, +And on the flowery-wooded brink +Apes, elephants, and lions drink, + Nor feel all sorrow fly?" +Thus eloquently spoke the pride +Of Raghu's children to his bride, +And wandered happy by her side +Where Chitrakúta azure-dyed + Uprears his peaks on high. + + + + +Canto XCVI. The Magic Shaft.(374) + + +Thus Ráma showed to Janak's child +The varied beauties of the wild, +The hill, the brook and each fair spot, +Then turned to seek their leafy cot. +North of the mountain Ráma found +A cavern in the sloping ground, +Charming to view, its floor was strown +With many a mass of ore and stone, +In secret shadow far retired +Where gay birds sang with joy inspired, +And trees their graceful branches swayed +With loads of blossom downward weighed. +Soon as he saw the cave which took +Each living heart and chained the look, +Thus Ráma spoke to Sítá who +Gazed wondering on the silvan view: +"Does this fair cave beneath the height, +Videhan lady, charm thy sight? +Then let us resting here a while +The languor of the way beguile. +That block of stone so smooth and square +Was set for thee to rest on there, +And like a thriving Kesar tree +This flowery shrub o'ershadows thee." +Thus Ráma spoke, and Janak's child, +By nature ever soft and mild, +In tender words which love betrayed +Her answer to the hero made: +"O pride of Raghu's children, still +My pleasure is to do thy will. +Enough for me thy wish to know: +Far hast thou wandered to and fro." + + Thus Sítá spake in gentle tone, +And went obedient to the stone, +Of perfect face and faultless limb +Prepared to rest a while with him. +And Ráma, as she thus replied, +Turned to his spouse again and cried: +"Thou seest, love, this flowery shade +For silvan creatures' pleasure made, +How the gum streams from trees and plants +Torn by the tusks of elephants! +Through all the forest clear and high +Resounds the shrill cicala's cry. +Hark how the kite above us moans, +And calls her young in piteous tones; +So may my hapless mother be +Still mourning in her home for me. +There mounted on that lofty Sál +The loud Bhringráj(375) repeats his call: +How sweetly now he tunes his throat +Responsive to the Koïl's note. +Or else the bird that now has sung +May be himself the Koïl's young, +Linked with such winning sweetness are +The notes he pours irregular. +See, round the blooming Mango clings +That creeper with her tender rings, +So in thy love, when none is near, +Thine arms are thrown round me, my dear." + + Thus in his joy he cried; and she, +Sweet speaker, on her lover's knee, +Of faultless limb and perfect face, +Grew closer to her lord's embrace. +Reclining in her husband's arms, +A goddess in her wealth of charms, +She filled his loving breast anew +With mighty joy that thrilled him through. +His finger on the rock he laid, +Which veins of sanguine ore displayed, +And painted o'er his darling's eyes +The holy sign in mineral dyes. +Bright on her brow the metal lay +Like the young sun's first gleaming ray, +And showed her in her beauty fair +As the soft light of morning's air. +Then from the Kesar's laden tree +He picked fair blossoms in his glee, +And as he decked each lovely tress, +His heart o'erflowed with happiness. +So resting on that rocky seat +A while they spent in pastime sweet, +Then onward neath the shady boughs +Went Ráma with his Maithil spouse. +She roaming in the forest shade +Where every kind of creature strayed +Observed a monkey wandering near, +And clung to Ráma's arm in fear. +The hero Ráma fondly laced +His mighty arms around her waist, +Consoled his beauty in her dread, +And scared the Monkey till he fled. +That holy mark of sanguine ore +That gleamed on Sítá's brow before, +Shone by that close embrace impressed +Upon the hero's ample chest. +Then Sítá, when the beast who led +The monkey troop, afar had fled, +Laughed loudly in light-hearted glee +That mark on Ráma's chest to see. +A clump of bright Asokas fired +The forest in their bloom attired: +The restless blossoms as they gleamed +A host of threatening monkeys seemed. +Then Sítá thus to Ráma cried, +As longingly the flowers she eyed: +"Pride of thy race, now let us go +Where those Asoka blossoms grow." +He on his darling's pleasure bent +With his fair goddess thither went +And roamed delighted through the wood +Where blossoming Asokas stood, +As Siva with Queen Umá roves +Through Himaván's majestic groves. +Bright with purpureal glow the pair +Of happy lovers sported there, +And each upon the other set +A flower-inwoven coronet. +There many a crown and chain they wove +Of blooms from that Asoka grove, +And in their graceful sport the two +Fresh beauty o'er the mountain threw. +The lover let his love survey +Each pleasant spot that round them lay, +Then turned they to their green retreat +Where all was garnished, gay, and neat. +By brotherly affection led, +Sumitrá's son to meet them sped, +And showed the labours of the day +Done while his brother was away. +There lay ten black-deer duly slain +With arrows pure of poison stain, +Piled in a mighty heap to dry, +With many another carcass nigh. +And Lakshman's brother saw, o'erjoyed, +The work that had his hands employed, +Then to his consort thus he cried: +"Now be the general gifts supplied." +Then Sítá, fairest beauty, placed +The food for living things to taste, +And set before the brothers meat +And honey that the pair might eat. +They ate the meal her hands supplied, +Their lips with water purified: +Then Janak's daughter sat at last +And duly made her own repast. +The other venison, to be dried, +Piled up in heaps was set aside, +And Ráma told his wife to stay +And drive the flocking crows away. +Her husband saw her much distressed +By one more bold than all the rest, +Whose wings where'er he chose could fly, +Now pierce the earth, now roam the sky. +Then Ráma laughed to see her stirred +To anger by the plaguing bird: +Proud of his love the beauteous dame +With burning rage was all aflame. +Now here, now there, again, again +She chased the crow, but all in vain, +Enraging her, so quick to strike +With beak and wing and claw alike: +Then how the proud lip quivered, how +The dark frown marked her angry brow! +When Ráma saw her cheek aglow +With passion, he rebuked the crow. +But bold in impudence the bird, +With no respect for Ráma's word, +Fearless again at Sítá flew: +Then Ráma's wrath to fury grew. +The hero of the mighty arm +Spoke o'er a shaft the mystic charm, +Laid the dire weapon on his bow +And launched it at the shameless crow. +The bird, empowered by Gods to spring +Through earth itself on rapid wing, +Through the three worlds in terror fled +Still followed by that arrow dread. +Where'er he flew, now here now there, +A cloud of weapons filled the air. +Back to the high-souled prince he fled +And bent at Ráma's feet his head, +And then, as Sítá looked, began +His speech in accents of a man: +"O pardon, and for pity's sake +Spare, Ráma, spare my life to take! +Where'er I turn, where'er I flee, +No shelter from this shaft I see." + + The chieftain heard the crow entreat +Helpless and prostrate at his feet, +And while soft pity moved his breast, +With wisest speech the bird addressed: +"I took the troubled Sítá's part, +And furious anger filled my heart. +Then on the string my arrow lay +Charmed with a spell thy life to slay. +Thou seekest now my feet, to crave +Forgiveness and thy life to save. +So shall thy prayer have due respect: +The suppliant I must still protect. +But ne'er in vain this dart may flee; +Yield for thy life a part of thee, +What portion of thy body, say, +Shall this mine arrow rend away? +Thus far, O bird, thus far alone +On thee my pity may be shown. +Forfeit a part thy life to buy: +'Tis better so to live than die." +Thus Ráma spoke: the bird of air +Pondered his speech with anxious care, +And wisely deemed it good to give +One of his eyes that he might live. +To Raghu's son he made reply: +"O Ráma, I will yield an eye. +So let me in thy grace confide +And live hereafter single-eyed." +Then Ráma charged the shaft, and lo, +Full in the eye it smote the crow. +And the Videhan lady gazed +Upon the ruined eye amazed. +The crow to Ráma humbly bent, +Then where his fancy led he went. +Ráma with Lakshman by his side +With needful work was occupied. + + + + +Canto XCVII. Lakshman's Anger. + + +Thus Ráma showed his love the rill +Whose waters ran beneath the hill, +Then resting on his mountain seat +Refreshed her with the choicest meat. +So there reposed the happy two: +Then Bharat's army nearer drew: +Rose to the skies a dusty cloud, +The sound of trampling feet was loud. +The swelling roar of marching men +Drove the roused tiger from his den, +And scared amain the serpent race +Flying to hole and hiding-place. +The herds of deer in terror fled, +The air was filled with birds o'erhead, +The bear began to leave his tree, +The monkey to the cave to flee. +Wild elephants were all amazed +As though the wood around them blazed. +The lion oped his ponderous jaw, +The buffalo looked round in awe. +The prince, who heard the deafening sound, +And saw the silvan creatures round +Fly wildly startled from their rest, +The glorious Lakshman thus addressed: +"Sumitrá's noble son most dear, +Hark, Lakshman, what a roar I hear, +The tumult of a coming crowd, +Appalling, deafening, deep, and loud! +The din that yet more fearful grows +Scares elephants and buffaloes, +Or frightened by the lions, deer +Are flying through the wood in fear. +I fain would know who seeks this place +Comes prince or monarch for the chase? +Or does some mighty beast of prey +Frighten the silvan herds away? +'Tis hard to reach this mountain height, +Yea, e'en for birds in airy flight. +Then fain, O Lakshman, would I know +What cause disturbs the forest so." + + Lakshman in haste, the wood to view, +Climbed a high Sál that near him grew, +The forest all around he eyed, +First gazing on the eastern side. +Then northward when his eyes he bent +He saw a mighty armament +Of elephants, and cars, and horse, +And men on foot, a mingled force, +And banners waving in the breeze, +And spoke to Ráma words like these: +"Quick, quick, my lord, put out the fire, +Let Sítá to the cave retire. +Thy coat of mail around thee throw, +Prepare thine arrows and thy bow." + + In eager haste thus Lakshman cried, +And Ráma, lion lord, replied: +"Still closer be the army scanned, +And say who leads the warlike band." +Lakshman his answer thus returned, +As furious rage within him burned, +Exciting him like kindled fire +To scorch the army in his ire: +"'Tis Bharat: he has made the throne +By consecrating rites his own: +To gain the whole dominion thus +He comes in arms to slaughter us. +I mark tree-high upon his car +His flagstaff of the Kovidár,(376) +I see his glittering banner glance, +I see his chivalry advance: +I see his eager warriors shine +On elephants in lengthened line. +Now grasp we each the shafts and bow, +And higher up the mountain go. +Or in this place, O hero, stand +With weapons in each ready hand. +Perhaps beneath our might may fall +This leader of the standard tall, +And Bharat I this day may see +Who brought this mighty woe on thee, +Sítá, and me, who drove away +My brother from the royal sway. +Bharat our foe at length is nigh, +And by this hand shall surely die: +Brother, I see no sin at all +If Bharat by my weapon fall. +No fault is his who slays the foe +Whose hand was first to strike the blow: +With Bharat now the crime begins +Who against thee and duty sins. +The queen athirst for royal sway +Will see her darling son to-day +Fall by this hand, like some fair tree +Struck by an elephant, slain by me. +Kaikeyí's self shall perish too +With kith and kin and retinue, +And earth by my avenging deed +Shall from this mass of sin be freed. +This day my wrath, too long restrained, +Shall fall upon the foe, unchained, +Mad as the kindled flame that speeds +Destroying through the grass and reeds. +This day mine arrows keen and fierce +The bodies of the foe shall pierce: +The woods on Chitrakúta's side +Shall run with torrents crimson-dyed. +The wandering beasts of prey shall feed +On heart-cleft elephant and steed, +And drag to mountain caves away +The bodies that my arrows slay. +Doubt not that Bharat and his train +Shall in this mighty wood be slain: +So shall I pay the debt my bow +And these my deadly arrows owe." + + + + +Canto XCVIII. Lakshman Calmed. + + +Then Ráma nobly calm allayed +The wrath that Lakshman's bosom swayed: +"What need have we the sword to wield, +To bend the bow or lift the shield, +If Bharat brave, and wise, and good, +Himself has sought this sheltering wood? +I sware my father's will to do, +And if I now my brother slew +What gain in kingship should I find, +Despised and scorned by all mankind? +Believe me, e'en as I would shrink +From poisoned meat or deadly drink, +No power or treasure would I win +By fall of friend or kith or kin. +Brother, believe the words I speak: +For your dear sakes alone I seek +Duty and pleasure, wealth and gain: +A holy life, a happy reign. +If royal sway my heart desires, +My brothers' weal the wish inspires: +Their bliss and safety is my care, +By this uplifted bow I swear. +'Twere not so hard for me to gain +This broad land girdled by the main, +But even Indra's royal might +Should ne'er be mine in duty's spite. +If any bliss my soul can see +Deprived of dear Satrughna, thee, +And Bharat, may the flame destroy +With ashy gloom the selfish joy. +Far dearer than this life of mine, +Knowing the custom of our line, +His heart with fond affection fraught, +Bharat Ayodhyá's town resought +And hearing when he came that I, +With thee and Sítá, forced to fly +With matted hair and hermit dress +Am wandering in the wilderness. +While grief his troubled senses storms, +And tender love his bosom warms, +From every thought of evil clear, +Is come to meet his brother here. +Some grievous words perchance he spoke +Kaikeyí's anger to provoke, +Then won the king, and comes to lay +Before my feet the royal sway. +Hither, methinks, in season due +Comes Bharat for an interview, +Nor in his secret heart has he +One evil thought 'gainst thee or me. +What has he done ere now, reflect! +How failed in love or due respect +To make thee doubt his faith and lay +This evil to his charge to-day? +Thou shouldst not join with Bharat's name +So harsh a speech and idle blame. +The blows thy tongue at Bharat deals, +My sympathizing bosom feels. +How, urged by stress of any ill, +Should sons their father's life-blood spill, +Or brother slay in impious strife +A brother dearer than his life? +If thou these cruel words hast said +By strong desire of empire led, +My brother Bharat will I pray +To give to thee the kingly sway. +"Give him the realm," my speech shall be, +And Bharat will, methinks, agree." + + Thus spoke the prince whose chief delight +Was duty, and to aid the right: +And Lakshman keenly felt the blame, +And shrank within himself for shame: +And then his answer thus returned, +With downcast eye and cheek that burned: +"Brother, I ween, to see thy face +Our sire himself has sought this place." +Thus Lakshman spoke and stood ashamed, +And Ráma saw and thus exclaimed: +"It is the strong-armed monarch: he +Is come, methinks, his sons to see, +To bid us both the forest quit +For joys for which he deems us fit: +He thinks on all our care and pain, +And now would lead us home again. +My glorious father hence will bear +Sítá who claims all tender care. +I see two coursers fleet as storms, +Of noble breed and lovely forms. +I see the beast of mountain size +Who bears the king our father wise, +The aged Victor, march this way +In front of all the armed array. +But doubt and fear within me rise, +For when I look with eager eyes +I see no white umbrella spread, +World-famous, o'er the royal head. +Now, Lakshman, from the tree descend, +And to my words attention lend." + + Thus spoke the pious prince: and he +Descended from the lofty tree, +And reverent hand to hand applied, +Stood humbly by his brother's side. + + The host, compelled by Bharat's care, +The wood from trampling feet to spare, +Dense crowding half a league each way +Encamped around the mountain lay. +Below the tall hill's shelving side +Gleamed the bright army far and wide + Spread o'er the ample space, +By Bharat led who firmly true +In duty from his bosom threw +All pride, and near his brother drew + To win the hero's grace. + + + + +Canto XCIX. Bharat's Approach. + + +Soon as the warriors took their rest +Obeying Bharat's high behest, +Thus Bharat to Satrughna spake: +"A band of soldiers with thee take, +And with these hunters o'er and o'er +The thickets of the wood explore. +With bow, sword, arrows in their hands +Let Guha with his kindred bands +Within this grove remaining trace +The children of Kakutstha's race. +And I meanwhile on foot will through +This neighbouring wood my way pursue, +With elders and the twice-born men, +And every lord and citizen. +There is, I feel, no rest for me +Till Ráma's face again I see, +Lakshman, in arms and glory great, +And Sítá born to happy fate: +No rest, until his cheek as bright +As the fair moon rejoice my sight, +No rest until I see the eye +With which the lotus petals vie; +Till on my head those dear feet rest +With signs of royal rank impressed; +None, till my kingly brother gain +His old hereditary reign, +Till o'er his limbs and noble head +The consecrating drops be shed. +How blest is Janak's daughter, true +To every wifely duty, who +Cleaves faithful to her husband's side +Whose realm is girt by Ocean's tide! +This mountain too above the rest +E'en as the King of Hills is blest,-- +Whose shades Kakutstha's scion hold +As Nandan charms the Lord of Gold. +Yea, happy is this tangled grove +Where savage beasts unnumbered rove, +Where, glory of the Warrior race, +King Ráma finds a dwelling-place." + + Thus Bharat, strong-armed hero spake, +And walked within the pathless brake. +O'er plains where gay trees bloomed he went, +Through boughs in tangled net-work bent, +And then from Ráma's cot appeared +The banner which the flame upreared. +And Bharat joyed with every friend +To mark those smoky wreaths ascend: +"Here Ráma dwells," he thought; "at last +The ocean of our toil is passed." + Then sure that Ráma's hermit cot + Was on the mountain's side + He stayed his army on the spot, + And on with Guha hied. + + + + +Canto C. The Meeting. + + +Then Bharat to Satrughna showed +The spot, and eager onward strode, +First bidding Saint Vasishtha bring +The widowed consorts of the king. +As by fraternal love impelled +His onward course the hero held, +Sumantra followed close behind +Satrughna with an anxious mind: +Not Bharat's self more fain could be +To look on Ráma's face than he. +As, speeding on, the spot he neared, +Amid the hermits' homes appeared +His brother's cot with leaves o'erspread, +And by its side a lowly shed. +Before the shed great heaps were left +Of gathered flowers and billets cleft, +And on the trees hung grass and bark +Ráma and Lakshman's path to mark: +And heaps of fuel to provide +Against the cold stood ready dried. +The long-armed chief, as on he went +In glory's light preëminent, +With joyous words like these addressed +The brave Satrughna and the rest: +"This is the place, I little doubt, +Which Bharadvája pointed out, +Not far from where we stand must be +The woodland stream, Mandákiní. +Here on the mountain's woody side +Roam elephants in tusked pride, +And ever with a roar and cry +Each other, as they meet, defy. +And see those smoke-wreaths thick and dark: +The presence of the flame they mark, +Which hermits in the forest strive +By every art to keep alive. +O happy me! my task is done, +And I shall look on Raghu's son, +Like some great saint, who loves to treat +His elders with all reverence meet." + + Thus Bharat reached that forest rill, +Thus roamed on Chitrakúta's hill; +Then pity in his breast awoke, +And to his friends the hero spoke: +"Woe, woe upon my life and birth! +The prince of men, the lord of earth +Has sought the lonely wood to dwell +Sequestered in a hermit's cell. +Through me, through me these sorrows fall +On him the splendid lord of all: +Through me resigning earthly bliss +He hides him in a home like this. +Now will I, by the world abhorred, +Fall at the dear feet of my lord, +And at fair Sítá's too, to win +His pardon for my heinous sin." + + As thus he sadly mourned and sighed, +The son of Dasaratha spied +A bower of leafy branches made, +Sacred and lovely in the shade, +Of fair proportions large and tall, +Well roofed with boughs of palm, and Sál, +Arranged in order due o'erhead +Like grass upon an altar spread. +Two glorious bows were gleaming there, +Like Indra's(377) in the rainy air, +Terror of foemen, backed with gold, +Meet for the mightiest hand to hold: +And quivered arrows cast a blaze +Bright gleaming like the Day-God's rays: +Thus serpents with their eyes aglow +Adorn their capital below.(378) +Great swords adorned the cottage, laid +Each in a case of gold brocade; +There hung the trusty shields, whereon +With purest gold the bosses shone. +The brace to bind the bowman's arm, +The glove to shield his hand from harm, +A lustre to the cottage lent +From many a golden ornament: +Safe was the cot from fear of men +As from wild beasts the lion's den. +The fire upon the altar burned, +That to the north and east was turned. +Bharat his eager glances bent +And gazed within the cot intent; +In deerskin dress, with matted hair, +Ráma his chief was sitting there: +With lion-shoulders broad and strong, +With lotus eyes, arms thick and long. +The righteous sovereign, who should be +Lord paramount from sea to sea, +High-minded, born to lofty fate, +Like Brahmá's self supremely great; +With Lakshman by his side, and her, +Fair Sítá, for his minister. +And Bharat gazing, overcome +By sorrow for a while was dumb, +Then, yielding to his woe, he ran +To Ráma and with sobs began: +"He who a royal seat should fill +With subjects round to do his will, +My elder brother,--see him here, +With silvan creatures waiting near. +The high-souled hero, wont to wear +The costliest robes exceeding fair, +Now banished, in a deerskin dress, +Here keeps the path of righteousness. +How brooks the son of Raghu now +The matted locks which load his brow, +Around whose princely head were twined +Sweet blossoms of the rarest kind? +The prince whose merits grew, acquired +By rites performed as he desired, +Would now a store of merit gain +Bought by his body's toil and pain. +Those limbs to which pure sandal lent +The freshness of its fragrant scent, +Exposed to sun, and dust, and rain, +Are now defiled with many a stain. +And I the wretched cause why this +Falls on the prince whose right is bliss! +Ah me, that ever I was born +To be the people's hate and scorn!" + + Thus Bharat cried: of anguish sprung, +Great drops upon his forehead hung. +He fell o'erpowered--his grief was such-- +Ere he his brother's feet could touch. +As on the glorious prince he gazed +In vain his broken voice he raised: +"Dear lord"--through tears and sobbing came, +The only words his lips could frame. +And brave Satrughna wept aloud, +As low at Ráma's feet he bowed. +Then Ráma, while his tears ran fast, +His arms around his brothers cast. +Guha, Sumantra came to meet +The princes in their wild retreat. + Vrihaspati and Sukra bright + Their greeting thus rejoice to pay + To the dear Lord who brings the night, + And the great God who rules the day. + Then wept the dwellers of the shade, + Whose eyes the princes, meet to ride + On mighty elephants, surveyed; + And cast all thought of joy aside. + + + + +Canto CI. Bharata Questioned. + + +Then Ráma gazed, and scarcely knew +Bharat so worn and changed in hue. +He raised him, kissed him on the head, +Embraced him, and thus kindly said: +"Where was thy father, brother dear, +That thou art come to seek me here? +Unmeet, if he be living yet, +Thy feet within the wood to set. +I pray thee now the cause declare +Why thou hast left the kingdom there, +With matted locks and deerskin dress +To roam the distant wilderness." + + Thus questioned by the prince, at length +Kaikeyí's son regained his strength, +And hand to hand in reverence laid, +To Ráma thus his answer made: +"The great-armed monarch, O my lord, +Has dared to do a thing abhorred, +Left us, and grieving for his son, +A home among the Gods has won. +My mother Queen Kaikeyí gave +The order to the king her slave, +And at the bidding of the dame +He wrought the sin which mars his fame. +Athirst for sway, her hopes are crossed, +She mourns her son, her husband lost, +And through her impious crime will go +For punishment to hell below. +Now O my lord, forgive me all; +Be gracious to thy lowly thrall: +Anointed king, accept to-day +Like Indra's self, the royal sway. +Be gracious, Prince, to lord and peer, +And widowed queens who seek thee here +Accept the kingdom thine by right, +And so thy faithful friends delight. +Let the broad land no longer be +All widowed and forlorn of thee: +Let the full moon of autumn reign +Triumphant o'er the night again. +These lords and I before thee bend: +O Ráma, to our prayer attend. +O do not thou this grace deny: +Thy brother, pupil, slave am I. +Look on this venerable ring, +Advisers of our sire the king, +From age to age so honoured: thou +Shouldst grant their supplication now." + + As weeping thus the hero prayed, +His head at Ráma's feet he laid. +Like a mad elephant he sighed: +And Ráma gazed and thus replied: +"How, brother, can a man of worth, +True to his vows, of noble birth-- +A man like me, commit a sin +The lordship of the land to win? +No slightest shade of fault I see, +O tamer of thy foes, in thee. +But ne'er shouldst thou in childish thought +The queen thy mother blame in aught. +O brother wise and sinless, know +The sacred laws would have it so, +That from good wife and son require +Obedience to their lord and sire. +And we are all the king's, for thus +The virtuous ever reckon us: +Yea brother, be it known to thee, +His wives, and sons, and pupils we. +His is the right, if he deem fit, +To bid me, throned as monarch, sit, +Or in a coat of bark expel, +And deerskin, in the wood to dwell. +And O remember, best of all +Who act as claims of duty call, +As to a virtuous sire is due, +Such honour claims a mother too. +So they whose lives have ever been +By duty led, the king and queen, +Said, "Ráma, seek the forest shade:" +And I (what could I else?) obeyed. +Thou must the royal power retain, +And o'er the famed Ayodhyá reign: +I dressed in bark my days will spend +Where Dandak's forest wilds extend. +So Dasaratha spoke, our king, +His share to each apportioning +Before his honoured servants' eyes: +Then, heir of bliss, he sought the skies. +The righteous monarch's honoured will, +Whom all revered, must guide thee still, +And thou must still enjoy the share +Assigned thee by our father's care. +So I till twice seven years are spent +Will roam this wood in banishment, +Contented with the lot which he, +My high-souled sire, has given me. +The charge the monarch gave, endeared +To all mankind, by all revered, + Peer of the Lord Supreme, +Far better, richer far in gain +Of every blessing than to reign + O'er all the worlds I deem." + + + + +Canto CII. Bharat's Tidings. + + +He spoke: and Bharat thus replied: +"If, false to every claim beside, +I ne'er in kingly duties fail, +What will my royal life avail? +Still should the custom be observed, +From which our line has never swerved, +Which to the younger son ne'er gives +The kingdom while the elder lives. +Now to Ayodhyá rich and fair +With me, O Raghu's son, repair, +And to protect and gladden all +Our house, thyself as king install. +A king the world's opinion deems +A man: to me a God he seems, +Whose life in virtuous thoughts and deeds +The lives of other men exceeds. +When I in distant Kekaya stayed, +And thou hadst sought the forest shade, +Our father died, the saints' delight, +So constant in each holy rite. +Scarce with thy wife and Lakshman thou +Hadst journeyed forth to keep the vow, +When mourning for his son, forspent, +To heavenly rest the monarch went. +Then up, O lord of men, away! +His funeral rites of water pay: +I and Satrughna, ere we came, +Neglected not the sacred claim. +But in the spirit-world, they say, +That gift alone is fresh for aye +Which best beloved hands have poured; +And thou his dearest art, my lord. +For thee he longed, for thee he grieved, + His every thought on thee was bent, +And crushed by woe, of thee bereaved, + He thought of thee as hence he went." + + + + +Canto CIII. The Funeral Libation. + + +When Ráma heard from Bharat each +Dark sorrow of his mournful speech, +And tidings of his father dead, +His spirits fell, his senses fled. +For the sad words his brother spoke +Struck on him like a thunder stroke, +Fierce as the bolt which Indra throws, +The victor of his Daitya foes. +Raising his arms in anguish, he, +As when the woodman hews a tree +With its fair flowery branches crowned, +Fainted and fell upon the ground. +Lord of the earth to earth he sank, +Helpless, as when a towering bank +With sudden ruin buries deep +An elephant who lay asleep. +Then swift his wife and brothers flew, +And water, weeping, o'er him threw. +As slowly sense and strength he gained, +Fast from his eyes the tears he rained, +And then in accents sad and weak +Kakutstha's son began to speak, +And mourning for the monarch dead, +With righteous words to Bharat said: +"What calls me home, when he, alas, +Has gone the way which all must pass? +Of him, the best of kings bereft +What guardian has Ayodhyá left? +How may I please his spirit? how +Delight the high-souled monarch now, +Who wept for me and went above +By me ungraced with mourning love? +Ah, happy brothers! you have paid +Due offerings to his parting shade. +E'en when my banishment is o'er, +Back to my home I go no more, +To look upon the widowed state +Reft of her king, disconsolate. +E'en then, O tamer of the foe, +If to Ayodhyá's town I go, +Who will direct me as of old, +Now other worlds our father hold? +From whom, my brother, shall I hear +Those words which ever charmed mine ear +And filled my bosom with delight +Whene'er he saw me act aright?" + + Thus Ráma spoke: then nearer came +And looking on his moonbright dame, +"Sítá, the king is gone," he said: +"And Lakshman, know thy sire is dead, +And with the Gods on high enrolled: +This mournful news has Bharat told." +He spoke: the noble youths with sighs +Rained down the torrents from their eyes. +And then the brothers of the chief +With words of comfort soothed his grief: +"Now to the king our sire who swayed +The earth be due libations paid." +Soon as the monarch's fate she knew, +Sharp pangs of grief smote Sítá through: +Nor could she look upon her lord +With eyes from which the torrents poured. +And Ráma strove with tender care +To soothe the weeping dame's despair, +And then, with piercing woe distressed, +The mournful Lakshman thus addressed: +"Brother, I pray thee bring for me +The pressed fruit of the Ingudí, +And a bark mantle fresh and new, +That I may pay this offering due. +First of the three shall Sítá go, +Next thou, and I the last: for so +Moves the funereal pomp of woe."(379) + + Sumantra of the noble mind, +Gentle and modest, meek and kind, +Who, follower of each princely youth, +To Ráma clung with constant truth, +Now with the royal brothers' aid +The grief of Ráma soothed and stayed, +And lent his arm his lord to guide +Down to the river's holy side. +That lovely stream the heroes found, +With woods that ever blossomed crowned, +And there in bitter sorrow bent +Their footsteps down the fair descent. +Then where the stream that swiftly flowed +A pure pellucid shallow showed, +The funeral drops they duly shed, +And "Father, this be thine," they said. +But he, the lord who ruled the land, +Filled from the stream his hollowed hand, +And turning to the southern side +Stretched out his arm and weeping cried: +"This sacred water clear and pure, +An offering which shall aye endure +To thee, O lord of kings, I give: +Accept it where the spirits live!" + + Then, when the solemn rite was o'er, +Came Ráma to the river shore, +And offered, with his brothers' aid, +Fresh tribute to his father's shade. +With jujube fruit he mixed the seed +Of Ingudís from moisture freed, +And placed it on a spot o'erspread +With sacred grass, and weeping said: +"Enjoy, great King, the cake which we +Thy children eat and offer thee! +For ne'er do blessed Gods refuse +To share the food which mortals use." + + Then Ráma turned him to retrace +The path that brought him to the place, +And up the mountain's pleasant side +Where lovely lawns lay fair, he hied. +Soon as his cottage door he gained +His brothers to his breast he strained. +From them and Sítá in their woes +So loud the cry of weeping rose, +That like the roar of lions round +The mountain rolled the echoing sound. +And Bharat's army shook with fear +The weeping of the chiefs to hear. +"Bharat," the soldiers cried, "'tis plain, +His brother Ráma meets again, +And with these cries that round us ring +They sorrow for their sire the king." +Then leaving car and wain behind, +One eager thought in every mind, +Swift toward the weeping, every man, +As each could find a passage, ran. +Some thither bent their eager course +With car, and elephant, and horse, +And youthful captains on their feet +With longing sped their lord to meet, +As though the new-come prince had been +An exile for long years unseen. +Earth beaten in their frantic zeal +By clattering hoof and rumbling wheel, +Sent forth a deafening noise as loud +As heaven when black with many a cloud. +Then, with their consorts gathered near, +Wild elephants in sudden fear +Rushed to a distant wood, and shed +An odour round them as they fled. +And every silvan thing that dwelt +Within those shades the terror felt, +Deer, lion, tiger, boar and roe, +Bison, wild-cow, and buffalo. +And when the tumult wild they heard, +With trembling pinions flew each bird, +From tree, from thicket, and from lake, +Swan, koïl, curlew, crane, and drake. +With men the ground was overspread, +With startled birds the sky o'erhead. +Then on his sacrificial ground +The sinless, glorious chief was found. +Loading with curses deep and loud +The hump-back and the queen, the crowd +Whose cheeks were wet, whose eyes were dim, +In fond affection ran to him. +While the big tears their eyes bedewed, +He looked upon the multitude, +And then as sire and mother do, +His arms about his loved ones threw. + Some to his feet with reverence pressed, + Some in his arms he strained: + Each friend, with kindly words addressed, + Due share of honour gained. + Then, by their mighty woe o'ercome, + The weeping heroes' cry + Filled, like the roar of many a drum, + Hill, cavern, earth, and sky. + + + + +Canto CIV. The Meeting With The Queens. + + +Vasishtha with his soul athirst +To look again on Ráma, first +In line the royal widows placed, +And then the way behind them traced. +The ladies moving, faint and slow, +Saw the fair stream before them flow, +And by the bank their steps were led +Which the two brothers visited. +Kausalyá with her faded cheek +And weeping eyes began to speak, +And thus in mournful tones addressed +The queen Sumitrá and the rest: +"See in the wood the bank's descent, +Which the two orphan youths frequent, +Whose noble spirits never fall, +Though woes surround them, reft of all. +Thy son with love that never tires +Draws water hence which mine requires. +This day, for lowly toil unfit, +His pious task thy son should quit." + + As on the long-eyed lady strayed, +On holy grass, whose points were laid +Directed to the southern sky, +The funeral offering met her eye. +When Ráma's humble gift she spied +Thus to the queens Kausalyá cried: +"The gift of Ráma's hand behold, +His tribute to the king high-souled, +Offered to him, as texts require, +Lord of Ikshváku's line, his sire! +Not such I deem the funeral food +Of kings with godlike might endued. +Can he who knew all pleasures, he +Who ruled the earth from sea to sea, +The mighty lord of monarchs, feed +On Ingudí's extracted seed? +In all the world there cannot be +A woe, I ween, more sad to see, +Than that my glorious son should make +His funeral gift of such a cake. +The ancient text I oft have heard +This day is true in every word: +"Ne'er do the blessed Gods refuse +To eat the food their children use.' " + + The ladies soothed the weeping dame: +To Ráma's hermitage they came, +And there the hero met their eyes +Like a God fallen from the skies. +Him joyless, reft of all, they viewed, +And tears their mournful eyes bedewed. +The truthful hero left his seat, +And clasped the ladies' lotus feet, +And they with soft hands brushed away +The dust that on his shoulders lay. +Then Lakshman, when he saw each queen +With weeping eyes and troubled mien, +Near to the royal ladies drew +And paid them gentle reverence too. +He, Dasaratha's offspring, signed +The heir of bliss by Fortune kind, +Received from every dame no less +Each mark of love and tenderness. +And Sítá came and bent before +The widows, while her eyes ran o'er, +And pressed their feet with many a tear. +They when they saw the lady dear +Pale, worn with dwelling in the wild, +Embraced her as a darling child: +"Daughter of royal Janak, bride +Of Dasaratha's son," they cried, +"How couldst thou, offspring of a king, +Endure this woe and suffering +In the wild forest? When I trace +Each sign of trouble on thy face-- +That lotus which the sun has dried, +That lily by the tempest tried, +That gold whereon the dust is spread, +That moon whence all the light is fled-- +Sorrow assails my heart, alas! +As fire consumes the wood and grass." + + Then Ráma, as she spoke distressed, +The feet of Saint Vasishtha pressed, + Touched them with reverential love, + Then near him took his seat: + Thus Indra clasps in realms above + The Heavenly Teacher's(380) feet. + Then with each counsellor and peer, + Bharat of duteous mind, + With citizens and captains near, + Sat humbly down behind. + When with his hands to him upraised, + In devotee's attire, + Bharat upon his brother gazed + Whose glory shone like fire, + As when the pure Mahendra bends + To the great Lord of Life, + Among his noble crowd of friends + This anxious thought was rife: + "What words to Raghu's son to-day + Will royal Bharat speak, + Whose heart has been so prompt to pay + Obeisance fond and meek?" + Then steadfast Ráma, Lakshman wise, + Bharat for truth renowned, +Shone like three fires that heavenward rise + With holy priests around. + + + + +Canto CV. Ráma's Speech. + + +A while they sat, each lip compressed, +Then Bharat thus his chief addressed: +"My mother here was made content; +To me was given the government. +This now, my lord, I yield to thee: +Enjoy it, from all trouble free. +Like a great bridge the floods have rent, +Impetuous in their wild descent, +All other hands but thine in vain +Would strive the burthen to maintain. +In vain the ass with steeds would vie, +With Tárkshya,(381) birds that wing the sky; +So, lord of men, my power is slight +To rival thine imperial might. +Great joys his happy days attend +On whom the hopes of men depend, +But wretched is the life he leads +Who still the aid of others needs. +And if the seed a man has sown, +With care and kindly nurture grown, +Rear its huge trunk and spring in time +Too bulky for a dwarf to climb, +Yet, with perpetual blossom gay, +No fruit upon its boughs display, +Ne'er can that tree, thus nursed in vain, +Approval of the virtuous gain. +The simile is meant to be +Applied, O mighty-armed, to thee, +Because, our lord and leader, thou +Protectest not thy people now. +O, be the longing wish fulfilled +Of every chief of house and guild, +To see again their sun-bright lord +Victorious to his realm restored! +As thou returnest through the crowd +Let roars of elephants be loud. +And each fair woman lift her voice +And in her new-found king rejoice." + + The people all with longing moved, +The words that Bharat spoke approved, +And crowding near to Ráma pressed +The hero with the same request. +The steadfast Ráma, when he viewed +His glorious brother's mournful mood, +With each ambitious thought controlled, +Thus the lamenting prince consoled: +"I cannot do the things I will, +For Ráma is but mortal still. +Fate with supreme, resistless law +This way and that its slave will draw, +All gathered heaps must waste away, +All lofty lore and powers decay. +Death is the end of life, and all, +Now firmly joined, apart must fall. +One fear the ripened fruit must know, +To fall upon the earth below; +So every man who draws his breath +Must fear inevitable death. +The pillared mansion, high, compact, +Must fall by Time's strong hand attacked; +So mortal men, the gradual prey +Of old and ruthless death, decay. +The night that flies no more returns: +Yamuná for the Ocean yearns: +Swift her impetuous waters flee, +But roll not backward from the sea. +The days and nights pass swiftly by +And steal our moments as they fly, +E'en as the sun's unpitying rays +Drink up the floods in summer blaze. +Then for thyself lament and leave +For death of other men to grieve, +For if thou go or if thou stay, +Thy life is shorter day by day. +Death travels with us; death attends +Our steps until our journey ends, +Death, when the traveller wins the goal, +Returns with the returning soul. +The flowing hair grows white and thin, +And wrinkles mark the altered skin. +The ills of age man's strength assail: +Ah, what can mortal power avail? +Men joy to see the sun arise, +They watch him set with joyful eyes: +But ne'er reflect, too blind to see, +How fast their own brief moments flee. +With lovely change for ever new +The seasons' sweet return they view, +Nor think with heedless hearts the while +That lives decay as seasons smile. +As haply on the boundless main +Meet drifting logs and part again, +So wives and children, friends and gold, +Ours for a little time we hold: +Soon by resistless laws of fate +To meet no more we separate. +In all this changing world not one +The common lot of all can shun: +Then why with useless tears deplore +The dead whom tears can bring no more? +As one might stand upon the way +And to a troop of travellers say: +"If ye allow it, sirs, I too +Will travel on the road with you:" +So why should mortal man lament +When on that path his feet are bent +Which all men living needs must tread, +Where sire and ancestors have led? +Life flies as torrents downward fall +Speeding away without recall, +So virtue should our thoughts engage, +For bliss(382) is mortals' heritage. +By ceaseless care and earnest zeal +For servants and for people's weal, +By gifts, by duty nobly done, +Our glorious sire the skies has won. +Our lord the king, o'er earth who reigned, +A blissful home in heaven has gained +By wealth in ample largess spent, +And many a rite magnificent: +With constant joy from first to last +A long and noble life he passed, +Praised by the good, no tears should dim +Our eyes, O brother dear, for him. +His human body, worn and tried +By length of days, he cast aside, +And gained the godlike bliss to stray +In Brahmá's heavenly home for aye. +For such the wise as we are, deep +In Veda lore, should never weep. +Those who are firm and ever wise +Spurn vain lament and idle sighs. +Be self-possessed: thy grief restrain: +Go, in that city dwell again. +Return, O best of men, and be +Obedient to our sire's decree, +While I with every care fulfil +Our holy father's righteous will, +Observing in the lonely wood +His charge approved by all the good." + Thus Ráma of the lofty mind + To Bharat spoke his righteous speech, + By every argument designed + Obedience to his sire to teach. + + + + +Canto CVI. Bharat's Speech. + + +Good Bharat, by the river side, +To virtuous Ráma's speech replied, +And thus with varied lore addressed +The prince, while nobles round him pressed: +"In all this world whom e'er can we +Find equal, scourge of foes, to thee? +No ill upon thy bosom weighs, +No thoughts of joy thy spirit raise. +Approved art thou of sages old, +To whom thy doubts are ever told. +Alike in death and life, to thee +The same to be and not to be. +The man who such a soul can gain +Can ne'er be crushed by woe or pain. +Pure as the Gods, high-minded, wise, +Concealed from thee no secret lies. +Such glorious gifts are all thine own, +And birth and death to thee are known, +That ill can ne'er thy soul depress +With all-subduing bitterness. +O let my prayer, dear brother, win +Thy pardon for my mother's sin. +Wrought for my sake who willed it not +When absent in a distant spot. +Duty alone with binding chains +The vengeance due to crime restrains, +Or on the sinner I should lift +My hand in retribution swift. +Can I who know the right, and spring +From Dasaratha, purest king-- +Can I commit a heinous crime, +Abhorred by all through endless time? +The aged king I dare not blame, +Who died so rich in holy fame, +My honoured sire, my parted lord, +E'en as a present God adored. +Yet who in lore of duty skilled +So foul a crime has ever willed, +And dared defy both gain and right +To gratify a woman's spite? +When death draws near, so people say, +The sense of creatures dies away; +And he has proved the ancient saw +By acting thus in spite of law. +But O my honoured lord, be kind, +Dismiss the trespass from thy mind, +The sin the king committed, led +By haste, his consort's wrath, and dread. +For he who veils his sire's offence +With tender care and reverence-- +His sons approved by all shall live: +Not so their fate who ne'er forgive. +Be thou, my lord, the noble son, +And the vile deed my sire has done, +Abhorred by all the virtuous, ne'er +Resent, lest thou the guilt too share. +Preserve us, for on thee we call, +Our sire, Kaikeyí, me and all +Thy citizens, thy kith and kin; +Preserve us and reverse the sin. +To live in woods a devotee +Can scarce with royal tasks agree, +Nor can the hermit's matted hair +Suit fitly with a ruler's care. +Do not, my brother, do not still +Pursue this life that suits thee ill. +Mid duties of a king we count +His consecration paramount, +That he with ready heart and hand +May keep his people and his land. +What Warrior born to royal sway +From certain good would turn away, +A doubtful duty to pursue, +That mocks him with the distant view? +Thou wouldst to duty cleave, and gain +The meed that follows toil and pain. +In thy great task no labour spare: +Rule the four castes with justest care. +Mid all the four, the wise prefer +The order of the householder:(383) +Canst thou, whose thoughts to duty cleave, +The best of all the orders leave? +My better thou in lore divine, +My birth, my sense must yield to thine: +While thou, my lord, art here to reign, +How shall my hands the rule maintain? +O faithful lover of the right, +Take with thy friends the royal might, +Let thy sires' realm, from trouble free, +Obey her rightful king in thee. +Here let the priests and lords of state +Our monarch duly consecrate, +With prayer and holy verses blessed +By saint Vasishtha and the rest. +Anointed king by us, again +Seek fair Ayodhyá, there to reign, +And like imperial Indra girt +By Gods of Storm, thy might assert. +From the three debts(384) acquittance earn, +And with thy wrath the wicked burn, +O'er all of us thy rule extend, +And cheer with boons each faithful friend. +Let thine enthronement, lord, this day +Make all thy lovers glad and gay, +And let all those who hate thee flee +To the ten winds for fear of thee. +Dear lord, my mother's words of hate +With thy sweet virtues expiate, +And from the stain of folly clear +The father whom we both revere. +Brother, to me compassion show, +I pray thee with my head bent low, +And to these friends who on thee call,-- +As the Great Father pities all. +But if my tears and prayers be vain, +And thou in woods wilt still remain, +I will with thee my path pursue +And make my home in forests too." + + Thus Bharat strove to bend his will + With suppliant head, but he, +Earth's lord, inexorable still + Would keep his sire's decree. +The firmness of the noble chief + The wondering people moved, +And rapture mingling with their grief, + All wept and all approved. +"How firm his steadfast will," they cried, + "Who Keeps his promise thus! +Ah, to Ayodhyá's town," they sighed, + "He comes not back with us." +The holy priest, the swains who tilled + The earth, the sons of trade, +And e'en the mournful queens were filled + With joy as Bharat prayed, +And bent their heads, then weeping stilled + A while, his prayer to aid. + + + + +Canto CVII. Ráma's Speech. + + +Thus, by his friends encompassed round, +He spoke, and Ráma, far renowned, +To his dear brother thus replied, +Whom holy rites had purified: +"O thou whom Queen Kaikeyí bare +The best of kings, thy words are fair, +Our royal father, when of yore +He wed her, to her father swore +The best of kingdoms to confer, +A noble dowry meet for her; +Then, grateful, on the deadly day +Of heavenly Gods' and demons' fray, +A future boon on her bestowed +To whose sweet care his life he owed. +She to his mind that promise brought, +And then the best of kings besought +To bid me to the forest flee, +And give the rule, O Prince, to thee. +Thus bound by oath, the king our lord +Gave her those boons of free accord, +And bade me, O thou chief of men, +Live in the woods four years and ten. +I to this lonely wood have hied +With faithful Lakshman by my side, +And Sítá by no tears deterred, +Resolved to keep my father's word. +And thou, my noble brother, too +Shouldst keep our father's promise true: +Anointed ruler of the state +Maintain his word inviolate. +From his great debt, dear brother, free +Our lord the king for love of me, +Thy mother's breast with joy inspire, +And from all woe preserve thy sire. +'Tis said, near Gayá's holy town(385) +Gayá, great saint of high renown, +This text recited when he paid +Due rites to each ancestral shade: + "A son is born his sire to free + From Put's infernal pains: + Hence, saviour of his father, he + The name of Puttra gains."(386) +Thus numerous sons are sought by prayer, +In Scripture trained with graces fair, +That of the number one some day +May funeral rites at Gayá pay. +The mighty saints who lived of old +This holy doctrine ever hold. +Then, best of men, our sire release +From pains of hell, and give him peace. +Now Bharat, to Ayodhyá speed, +The brave Satrughna with thee lead, +Take with thee all the twice-born men, +And please each lord and citizen. +I now, O King, without delay +To Dandak wood will bend my way, +And Lakshman and the Maithil dame +Will follow still, our path the same. + Now, Bharat, lord of men be thou, + And o'er Ayodhyá reign: + The silvan world to me shall bow, + King of the wild domain. + Yea, let thy joyful steps be bent + To that fair town to-day, + And I as happy and content, + To Dandak wood will stray. + The white umbrella o'er thy brow + Its cooling shade shall throw: + I to the shadow of the bough + And leafy trees will go. + Satrughna, for wise plans renowned, + Shall still on thee attend; + And Lakshman, ever faithful found, + Be my familiar friend. + Let us his sons, O brother dear, + The path of right pursue, + And keep the king we all revere + Still to his promise true." + + + + +Canto CVIII. Jáváli's Speech. + + +Thus Ráma soothed his brother's grief: +Then virtuous Jáváli, chief +Of twice-born sages, thus replied +In words that virtue's law defied: +"Hail, Raghu's princely son, dismiss +A thought so weak and vain as this. +Canst thou, with lofty heart endowed, +Think with the dull ignoble crowd? +For what are ties of kindred? can +One profit by a brother man? +Alone the babe first opes his eyes, +And all alone at last he dies. +The man, I ween, has little sense +Who looks with foolish reverence +On father's or on mother's name: +In others, none a right may claim. +E'en as a man may leave his home +And to a distant village roam, +Then from his lodging turn away +And journey on the following day, +Such brief possession mortals hold +In sire and mother, house and gold, +And never will the good and wise +The brief uncertain lodging prize. +Nor, best of men, shouldst thou disown +Thy sire's hereditary throne, +And tread the rough and stony ground +Where hardship, danger, woes abound. +Come, let Ayodhyá rich and bright +See thee enthroned with every rite: +Her tresses bound in single braid(387) +She waits thy coming long delayed. +O come, thou royal Prince, and share +The kingly joys that wait thee there, +And live in bliss transcending price +As Indra lives in Paradise. +The parted king is naught to thee, +Nor right in living man has he: +The king is one, thou, Prince of men, +Another art: be counselled then. +Thy royal sire, O chief, has sped +On the long path we all must tread. +The common lot of all is this, +And thou in vain art robbed of bliss. +For those--and only those--I weep +Who to the path of duty keep; +For here they suffer ceaseless woe, +And dying to destruction go. +With pious care, each solemn day, +Will men their funeral offerings pay: +See, how the useful food they waste: +He who is dead no more can taste. +If one is fed, his strength renewed +Whene'er his brother takes his food, +Then offerings to the parted pay: +Scarce will they serve him on his way. +By crafty knaves these rules were framed, +And to enforce men's gifts proclaimed: +"Give, worship, lead a life austere, +Keep lustral rites, quit pleasures here." +There is no future life: be wise, +And do, O Prince, as I advise. +Enjoy, my lord, the present bliss, +And things unseen from thought dismiss. +Let this advice thy bosom move, +The counsel sage which all approve; +To Bharat's earnest prayer incline, +And take the rule so justly thine." + + + + +Canto CIX. The Praises Of Truth. + + +By sage Jáváli thus addressed, +Ráma of truthful hearts the best, +With perfect skill and wisdom high +Thus to his speech made fit reply: +"Thy words that tempt to bliss are fair, +But virtue's garb they falsely wear. +For he from duty's path who strays +To wander in forbidden ways, +Allured by doctrine false and vain, +Praise from the good can never gain. +Their lives the true and boaster show, +Pure and impure, and high and low, +Else were no mark to judge between +Stainless and stained and high and mean; +They to whose lot fair signs may fall +Were but as they who lack them all, +And those to virtuous thoughts inclined +Were but as men of evil mind. +If in the sacred name of right +I do this wrong in duty's spite; +The path of virtue meanly quit, +And this polluting sin commit, +What man who marks the bounds between +Virtue and vice with insight keen, +Would rank me high in after time +Stained with this soul destroying crime? +Whither could I, the sinner, turn, +How hope a seat in heaven to earn, +If I my plighted promise break, +And thus the righteous path forsake? +This world of ours is ever led +To walk the ways which others tread, +And as their princes they behold, +The subjects too their lives will mould. +That truth and mercy still must be +Beloved of kings, is Heaven's decree. +Upheld by truth the monarch reigns, +And truth the very world sustains. +Truth evermore has been the love +Of holy saints and Gods above, +And he whose lips are truthful here +Wins after death the highest sphere. +As from a serpent's deadly tooth, +We shrink from him who scorns the truth. +For holy truth is root and spring +Of justice and each holy thing, +A might that every power transcends, +Linked to high bliss that never ends. +Truth is all virtue's surest base, +Supreme in worth and first in place. +Oblations, gifts men offer here, +Vows, sacrifice, and rites austere, +And Holy Writ, on truth depend: +So men must still that truth defend. +Truth, only truth protects the land, +By truth unharmed our houses stand; +Neglect of truth makes men distressed, +And truth in highest heaven is blessed. +Then how can I, rebellious, break +Commandments which my father spake-- +I ever true and faithful found, +And by my word of honour bound? +My father's bridge of truth shall stand +Unharmed by my destructive hand: +Not folly, ignorance, or greed +My darkened soul shall thus mislead. +Have we not heard that God and shade +Turn from the hated offerings paid +By him whose false and fickle mind +No pledge can hold, no promise bind? +Truth is all duty: as the soul, +It quickens and supports the whole. +The good respect this duty: hence +Its sacred claims I reverence. +The Warrior's duty I despise +That seeks the wrong in virtue's guise: +Those claims I shrink from, which the base, +Cruel, and covetous embrace. +The heart conceives the guilty thought, +Then by the hand the sin is wrought, +And with the pair is leagued a third, +The tongue that speaks the lying word. +Fortune and land and name and fame +To man's best care have right and claim; +The good will aye to truth adhere, +And its high laws must men revere. +Base were the deed thy lips would teach, +Approved as best by subtle speech. +Shall I my plighted promise break, +That I these woods my home would make? +Shall I, as Bharat's words advise, +My father's solemn charge despise? +Firm stands the oath which then before +My father's face I soothly swore, +Which Queen Kaikeyí's anxious ear +Rejoiced with highest joy to hear. +Still in the wood will I remain, +With food prescribed my life sustain, +And please with fruit and roots and flowers +Ancestral shades and heavenly powers. +Here every sense contented, still +Heeding the bounds of good and ill, +My settled course will I pursue, +Firm in my faith and ever true. +Here in this wild and far retreat +Will I my noble task complete; +And Fire and Wind and Moon shall be +Partakers of its fruit with me. +A hundred offerings duly wrought +His rank o'er Gods for Indra bought, +And mighty saints their heaven secured +By torturing years on earth endured." +That scoffing plea the hero spurned, + And thus he spake once more, +Chiding, the while his bosom burned, + Jáváli's impious lore: +"Justice, and courage ne'er dismayed, + Pity for all distressed, +Truth, loving honour duly paid + To Bráhman, God, and guest-- +In these, the true and virtuous say, + Should lives of men be passed: +They form the right and happy way + That leads to heaven at last. +My father's thoughtless act I chide + That gave thee honoured place, +Whose soul, from virtue turned aside, + Is faithless, dark, and base. +We rank the Buddhist with the thief,(388) + And all the impious crew +Who share his sinful disbelief, + And hate the right and true. +Hence never should wise kings who seek + To rule their people well, +Admit, before their face to speak, + The cursed infidel. +But twice-born men in days gone by, + Of other sort than thou, +Have wrought good deeds, whose glories high + Are fresh among us now: +This world they conquered, nor in vain + They strove to win the skies: +The twice-born hence pure lives maintain, + And fires of worship rise. +Those who in virtue's path delight, + And with the virtuous live,-- +Whose flames of holy zeal are bright, + Whose hands are swift to give, +Who injure none, and good and mild + In every grace excel, +Whose lives by sin are undefiled, + We love and honour well." +Thus Ráma spoke in righteous rage + Jáváli's speech to chide, +When thus again the virtuous sage + In truthful words replied: +"The atheist's lore I use no more, + Not mine his impious creed: +His words and doctrine I abhor, + Assumed at time of need. +E'en as I rose to speak with thee, + The fit occasion came +That bade me use the atheist's plea + To turn thee from thine aim. +The atheist creed I disavow, + Unsay the words of sin, +And use the faithful's language now + Thy favour, Prince, to win." + + + + +Canto CX. The Sons Of Ikshváku.(389) + + +Then spake Vasishtha who perceived +That Ráma's soul was wroth and grieved: +"Well knows the sage Jáváli all +The changes that the world befall; +And but to lead thee to revoke +Thy purpose were the words he spoke. +Lord of the world, now hear from me +How first this world began to be. +First water was, and naught beside; +There earth was formed that stretches wide. +Then with the Gods from out the same +The Self-existent Brahmá came. +Then Brahmá(390) in a boar's disguise +Bade from the deep this earth arise; +Then, with his sons of tranquil soul, +He made the world and framed the whole. +From subtlest ether Brahmá rose: +No end, no loss, no change he knows. +A son had he, Maríchi styled, +And Kasyap was Maríchi's child. +From him Vivasvat sprang: from him +Manu, whose fame shall ne'er be dim. +Manu, who life to mortals gave, +Begot Ikshváku good and brave: +First of Ayodhyá's kings was he, +Pride of her famous dynasty. +From him the glorious Kukshi sprang, +Whose fame through all the regions rang. +Rival of Kukshi's ancient fame, +His heir the great Vikukshi came. +His son was Vána, lord of might, +His Anaranya, strong in fight. +No famine marred his blissful reign, +No drought destroyed the kindly grain; +Amid the sons of virtue chief, +His happy realm ne'er held a thief, +His son was Prithu, glorious name, +From him the wise Trisanku came: +Embodied to the skies he went +For love of truth preëminent. +He left a son renowned afar, +Known by the name of Dhundhumár. +His son succeeding bore the name +Of Yuvanásva dear to fame. +He passed away. Him followed then +His son Mándhátá, king of men. +His son was blest in high emprise, +Susandhi, fortunate and wise. +Two noble sons had he, to wit +Dhruvasandhi and Prasenajit. +Bharat was Dhruvasandhi's son: +His glorious arm the conquest won, +Against his son King Asit, rose +In fierce array his royal foes, +Haihayas, Tálajanghas styled, +And Sasivindhus fierce and wild. +Long time he strove, but forced to yield +Fled from his kingdom and the field. +The wives he left had both conceived-- +So is the ancient tale believed:-- +One, of her rival's hopes afraid, +Fell poison in the viands laid. +It chanced that Chyavan, Bhrigu's child, +Had wandered to the pathless wild +Where proud Himálaya's lovely height +Detained him with a strange delight. +Then came the other widowed queen +With lotus eyes and beauteous mien, +Longing a noble son to bear, +And wooed the saint with earnest prayer. +When thus Kálindí, fairest dame +With reverent supplication came, +To her the holy sage replied: +"O royal lady, from thy side +A glorious son shall spring ere long, +Righteous and true and brave and strong; +He, scourge of foes and lofty-souled, +His ancient race shall still uphold." + + Then round the sage the lady went, +And bade farewell, most reverent. +Back to her home she turned once more, +And there her promised son she bore. +Because her rival mixed the bane +To render her conception vain, +And her unripened fruit destroy, +Sagar she called her rescued boy.(391) +He, when he paid that solemn rite,(392) +Filled living creatures with affright: +Obedient to his high decree +His countless sons dug out the sea. +Prince Asamanj was Sagar's child: +But him with cruel sin defiled +And loaded with the people's hate +His father banished from the state. +To Asamanj his consort bare +Bright Ansumán his valiant heir. +Ansumán's son, Dilípa famed, +Begot a son Bhagírath named. +From him renowned Kakutstha came: +Thou bearest still the lineal name. +Kakutstha's son was Raghu: thou +Art styled the son of Raghu now. +From him came Purushádak bold, +Fierce hero of gigantic mould: +Kalmáshapáda's name he bore, +Because his feet were spotted o'er. +Sankhan his son, to manhood grown, +Died sadly with his host o'erthrown, +But ere he perished sprang from him +Sudarsan fair in face and limb. +From beautiful Sudarsan came +Prince Agnivarna, bright as flame. +His son was Síghraga, for speed +Unmatched; and Maru was his seed. +Prasusruka was Maru's child: +His son was Ambarísha styled. +Nahush was Ambarísha's heir +With hand to strike and heart to dare. +His son was good Nábhág, from youth +Renowned for piety and truth. +From great Nábhág sprang children two +Aja and Suvrat pure and true. +From Aja Dasaratha came, +Whose virtuous life was free from blame. +His eldest son art thou: his throne, +O famous Ráma, is thine own. +Accept the sway so justly thine, +And view the world with eyes benign. +For ever in Ikshváku's race +The eldest takes his father's place, +And while he lives no son beside +As lord and king is sanctified. + The rule by Raghu's children kept + Thou must not spurn to-day. + This realm of peerless wealth accept, + And like thy father sway." + + + + +Canto CXI. Counsel To Bharat. + + +Thus said Vasishtha, and again +To Ráma spake in duteous strain: +"All men the light of life who see +With high respect should look on three: +High honour ne'er must be denied +To father, mother, holy guide. +First to their sires their birth they owe, +Nursed with maternal love they grow: +Their holy guides fair knowledge teach: +So men should love and honour each. +Thy sire and thou have learned of me, +The sacred guide of him and thee, +And if my word thou wilt obey +Thou still wilt keep the virtuous way. +See, with the chiefs of every guild +And all thy friends, this place is filled: +All these, as duty bids, protect; +So still the righteous path respect. +O, for thine aged mother feel, +Nor spurn the virtuous dame's appeal: +Obey, O Prince, thy mother dear, +And still to virtue's path adhere. +Yield thou to Bharat's fond request, +With earnest supplication pressed, +So wilt thou to thyself be true, +And faith and duty still pursue." + + Thus by his saintly guide addressed +With pleas in sweetest tones expressed, +The lord of men in turn replied +To wise Vasishtha by his side: +"The fondest son's observance ne'er +Repays the sire and mother's care: +The constant love that food provides, +And dress, and every need besides: +Their pleasant words still soft and mild, +Their nurture of the helpless child: +The words which Dasaratha spake, +My king and sire, I ne'er will break." + + Then Bharat of the ample chest +The wise Sumantra thus addressed; +"Bring sacred grass, O charioteer, +And strew it on the level here. +For I will sit and watch his face +Until I win my brother's grace. +Like a robbed Bráhman will I lie,(393) +Nor taste of food nor turn my eye, +In front of Ráma's leafy cot, +And till he yield will leave him not." + + When Bharat saw Sumantra's eye +Looked up to Ráma for reply, +The Prince himself in eager haste +The sacred grass in order placed. +Him great and mighty Ráma, best +Of royal saints, in turn addressed: +"What, Bharat, have I done, that thou +Besiegest me,(394) a suppliant now? +Thus streched, to force redress for wrongs +To men of Bráhman birth belongs, +Not those upon whose kingly head +The consecrating drops are shed. +Up, lord of men! arise, and quit +This fearful vow for thee unfit. +Go, brother, seek Ayodhyá's town, +Fair city of supreme renown." + + But Bharat, as his seat he took, +Cast all around an eager look: +"O people, join your prayers with mine, +And so his stubborn heart incline." + + And all the people answered thus: +"Full well is Ráma known to us. +Right is the word he speaks and he +Is faithful to his sire's decree: +Nor can we rashly venture now +To turn him from his purposed vow." + + Then Ráma spoke: "O Bharat, heed +Thy virtuous friends, and mark their rede. +Mark well what I and these advise, +And duty view with clearer eyes. +Thy hand on mine, O hero, place, +Touch water, and thy sin efface." + + Then Bharat rose: his hand he dipped, +And purifying water sipped: +"Each citizen," he cried, "give ear, +Attend, each counsellor and peer. +My mother planned, by me untaught, +To win the sway I never sought: +Ne'er Raghu's son could I despise, +In duty's lore supremely wise. +Now if obedience to our sire +This dwelling in the woods require, +I, till the destined years be spent, +Will dwell alone in banishment." + + The virtuous Ráma, wonder-stirred, +The faithful speech of Bharat heard, +And thus the hero's feelings found +Due utterance, as he gazed around: + + "Still to my father's word I hold, +Whate'er he bought, or pledged, or sold: +Ne'er shall his living promise be +Annulled by Bharat or by me. +Not thus my task will I evade, +My exile on another laid: +Most wise was Queen Kaikeyí's rede, +And just and good my father's deed. +Dear Bharat's patient soul I know, +How reverence due he loves to show; +In him, high-souled and faithful found, +Must each auspicious grace abound. +When from the woods I turn again +I with his aid shall nobly reign, +With one so good, of peerless worth, +A glorious lord of happy earth. +Her boon Kaikeyí sought and won. +I, as my father swore, have done: +And O, do thou, my brother dear, +The monarch's name from falsehood clear. + + + + +Canto CXII. The Sandals. + + +High wonder mingled with delight +Took the great sages at the sight, +Thrilling their breasts who came to view +The meeting of the peerless two. +The saints and sages' holy train +Departed to their home again. +And high each holy voice was raised, +And thus the glorious brothers praised. + + "High fate is his, the sire of two +Most virtuous souls, so brave and true: +With wonder and with joy intense +Our ears have heard their conference." +Then the great sages, longing all +To see the ten-necked tyrant(395) fall, +To Bharat, bravest of the brave, +Their salutary counsel gave: + + "O thou of lofty lineage born, +Whom wisdom, conduct, fame adorn, +Thou for thy honoured father's sake +Shouldst Ráma's righteous counsel take. +All debts to Queen Kaikeyí paid, +Thy sire his home in heaven has made, +So virtuous Ráma we would see +From filial obligation free." +Thus gave each royal sage advice, +High saint, and bard of Paradise; +Then quickly vanishing from view +Each to his proper home withdrew. +Then Ráma's face his rapture showed, +And his full heart with joy o'erflowed, +While, as the sages parted thence, +He paid his humble reverence. + + Then Bharat shook in every limb +As suppliant thus he spake to him: +"The duty of a king respect, +Held by our race in high respect: +And O, thy gracious ear incline +To heed my mother's prayer and mine. +The mighty realm to rule and guard +For me alone is task too hard. +No power have I the love to gain +Of noble, citizen, and swain. +All those who know thee, warrior, friend, +On thee their eager glances bend, +As labouring hinds who till the plain +Look fondly for the Lord of Rain. +O wisest Prince, thy realm secure, +And make its firm foundations sure. +Kakutstha's son, thy mighty arm +Can keep the nation free from harm." +He spoke, and fell in sorrow drowned +At Ráma's feet upon the ground, +And there the hero sued and sighed, +And "Hear me, Raghu's son," he cried. + + Then Ráma raised him up, and pressed +His brother to his loving breast, +And sweetly as a wild swan cried +To Bharat dark and lotus-eyed: +"So just and true thy generous soul, +Thy hand may well this earth control: +But many a sage his aid will lend, +With counsellor, and peer, and friend: +With these advise: their counsel ask, +And so perform thy arduous task. +The moon his beauty may forgo, +The cold forsake the Hills of Snow, +And Ocean o'er his banks may sweep, +But I my father's word will keep. +Now whether love of thee or greed +Thy mother led to plan the deed, +Forth from thy breast the memory throw, +And filial love and reverence show." + + Thus spake Kausalyá's son: again +Bharat replied in humble strain +To him who matched the sun in might +And lovely as the young moon's light: +"Put, noble brother, I entreat, +These sandals on thy blessed feet: +These, lord of men, with gold bedecked, +The realm and people will protect." + + Then Ráma, as his brother prayed +Beneath his feet the sandals laid, +And these with fond affection gave +To Bharat's hand, the good and brave. +Then Bharat bowed his reverent head +And thus again to Ráma said: +"Through fourteen seasons will I wear +The hermit's dress and matted hair: +With fruit and roots my life sustain, +And still beyond the realm remain, +Longing for thee to come again. +The rule and all affairs of state +I to these shoes will delegate. +And if, O tamer of thy foes, +When fourteen years have reached their close, +I see thee not that day return, +The kindled fire my frame shall burn." + + Then Ráma to his bosom drew +Dear Bharat and Satrughna too: +"Be never wroth," he cried, "with her, +Kaikeyí's guardian minister: +This, glory of Ikshváku's line, +Is Sítá's earnest prayer and mine." +He spoke, and as the big tears fell, +To his dear brother bade farewell. + Round Ráma, Bharat strong and bold + In humble reverence paced, + When the bright sandals wrought with gold + Above his brows were placed. + The royal elephant who led + The glorious pomp he found, + And on the monster's mighty head + Those sandals duly bound. + Then noble Ráma, born to swell + The glories of his race, + To all in order bade farewell + With love and tender grace-- + To brothers, counsellers, and peers,-- + Still firm, in duty proved, + Firm, as the Lord of Snow uprears + His mountains unremoved. + No queen, for choking sobs and sighs, + Could say her last adieu: + Then Ráma bowed, with flooded eyes, + And to his cot withdrew. + + + + +Canto CXIII. Bharat's Return. + + +Bearing the sandals on his head +Away triumphant Bharat sped, +And clomb, Satrughna by his side, +The car wherein he wont to ride. +Before the mighty army went +The lords for counsel eminent, +Vasishtha, Vámadeva next, +Jáváli, pure with prayer and text. +Then from that lovely river they +Turned eastward on their homeward way: +With reverent steps from left to right +They circled Chitrakúta's height, +And viewed his peaks on every side +With stains of thousand metals dyed. +Then Bharat saw, not far away, +Where Bharadvája's dwelling lay, +And when the chieftain bold and sage +Had reached that holy hermitage, +Down from the car he sprang to greet +The saint, and bowed before his feet. +High rapture filled the hermit's breast, +Who thus the royal prince addressed: +"Say, Bharat, is thy duty done? +Hast thou with Ráma met, my son?" + + The chief whose soul to virtue clave +This answer to the hermit gave: +"I prayed him with our holy guide: +But Raghu's son our prayer denied, +And long besought by both of us +He answered Saint Vasishtha thus: +"True to my vow, I still will be +Observant of my sire's decree: +Till fourteen years complete their course +That promise shall remain in force." +The saint in highest wisdom taught, +These solemn words with wisdom fraught, +To him in lore of language learned +Most eloquent himself returned: +"Obey my rede: let Bharat hold +This pair of sandals decked with gold: +They in Ayodhyá shall ensure +Our welfare, and our bliss secure." +When Ráma heard the royal priest +He rose, and looking to the east +Consigned the sandals to my hand +That they for him might guard the land. +Then from the high-souled chief's abode +I turned upon my homeward road, +Dismissed by him, and now this pair +Of sandals to Ayodhyá bear." + + To him the hermit thus replied, +By Bharat's tidings gratified: +"No marvel thoughts so just and true, +Thou best of all who right pursue, +Should dwell in thee, O Prince of men, +As waters gather in the glen. +He is not dead, we mourn in vain: +Thy blessed father lives again, +Whose noble son we thus behold +Like Virtue's self in human mould." + + He ceased: before him Bharat fell +To clasp his feet, and said farewell: +His reverent steps around him bent, +And onward to Ayodhyá went. +His host of followers stretching far +With many an elephant and car, +Waggon and steed, and mighty train, +Traversed their homeward way again. +O'er holy Yamuná they sped, +Fair stream, with waves engarlanded, +And then once more the rivers' queen, +The blessed Gangá's self was seen. +Then making o'er that flood his way, +Where crocodiles and monsters lay, +The king to Sringavera drew +His host and royal retinue. +His onward way he thence pursued, +And soon renowned Ayodhyá viewed. +Then burnt by woe and sad of cheer +Bharat addressed the charioteer: +"Ah, see, Ayodhyá dark and sad, +Her glory gone, once bright and glad: +Of joy and beauty reft, forlorn, +In silent grief she seems to mourn." + + + + +Canto CXIV. Bharat's Departure. + + +Deep, pleasant was the chariot's sound +As royal Bharat, far renowned, +Whirled by his mettled coursers fast +Within Ayodhyá's city passed. +There dark and drear was every home +Where cats and owls had space to roam, +As when the shades of midnight fall +With blackest gloom, and cover all: +As Rohiní, dear spouse of him +Whom Ráhu hates,(396) grows faint and dim, +When, as she shines on high alone +The demon's shade is o'er her thrown: +As burnt by summer's heat a rill +Scarce trickling from her parent hill, +With dying fish in pools half dried, +And fainting birds upon her side: +As sacrificial flames arise +When holy oil their food supplies, +But when no more the fire is fed +Sink lustreless and cold and dead: +Like some brave host that filled the plain, +With harness rent and captains slain, +When warrior, elephant, and steed +Mingled in wild confusion bleed: +As when, all spent her store of worth, +Rocks from her base the loosened earth: +Like a sad fallen star no more +Wearing the lovely light it wore: +So mournful in her lost estate +Was that sad town disconsolate. +Then car-borne Bharat, good and brave, +Thus spake to him the steeds who drave: +"Why are Ayodhyá's streets so mute? +Where is the voice of lyre and lute? +Why sounds not, as of old, to-day +The music of the minstrel's lay? +Where are the wreaths they used to twine? +Where are the blossoms and the wine? +Where is the cool refreshing scent +Of sandal dust with aloe blent? +The elephant's impatient roar, +The din of cars, I hear no more: +No more the horse's pleasant neigh +Rings out to meet me on my way. +Ayodhyá's youths, since Ráma's flight, +Have lost their relish for delight: +Her men roam forth no more, nor care +Bright garlands round their necks to wear. +All grieve for banished Ráma: feast, +And revelry and song have ceased: +Like a black night when floods pour down, +So dark and gloomy is the town. +When will he come to make them gay +Like some auspicious holiday? +When will my brother, like a cloud +At summer's close, make glad the crowd?" + + Then through the streets the hero rode, +And passed within his sire's abode, +Like some deserted lion's den, +Forsaken by the lord of men. +Then to the inner bowers he came, +Once happy home of many a dame, + Now gloomy, sad, and drear, +Dark as of old that sunless day +When wept the Gods in wild dismay;(397) + There poured he many a tear. + + + + +Canto CXV. Nandigrám.(398) + + +Then when the pious chief had seen +Lodged in her home each widowed queen, +Still with his burning grief oppressed +His holy guides he thus addressed: +"I go to Nandigrám: adieu, +This day, my lords to all of you: +I go, my load of grief to bear, +Reft of the son of Raghu, there. +The king my sire, alas, is dead, +And Ráma to the forest fled; +There will I wait till he, restored, +Shall rule the realm, its rightful lord." + + They heard the high-souled prince's speech, +And thus with ready answer each +Of those great lords their chief addressed, +With saint Vasishtha and the rest: +"Good are the words which thou hast said, +By brotherly affection led, +Like thine own self, a faithful friend, +True to thy brother to the end: +A heart like thine must all approve, +Which naught from virtue's path can move." + + Soon as the words he loved to hear +Fell upon Bharat's joyful ear, +Thus to the charioteer he spoke: +"My car with speed, Sumantra, yoke." +Then Bharat with delighted mien +Obeisance paid to every queen, +And with Satrughna by his side +Mounting the car away he hied. +With lords, and priests in long array +The brothers hastened on their way. +And the great pomp the Bráhmans led +With Saint Vasishtha at their head. +Then every face was eastward bent +As on to Nandigrám they went. +Behind the army followed, all +Unsummoned by their leader's call, +And steeds and elephants and men +Streamed forth with every citizen. +As Bharat in his chariot rode +His heart with love fraternal glowed, +And with the sandals on his head +To Nandigrám he quickly sped. +Within the town he swiftly pressed, +Alighted, and his guides addressed: +"To me in trust my brother's hand +Consigned the lordship of the land, +When he these gold-wrought sandals gave +As emblems to protect and save." +Then Bharat bowed, and from his head +The sacred pledge deposited, +And thus to all the people cried +Who ringed him round on every side: +"Haste, for these sandals quickly bring +The canopy that shades the king. +Pay ye to them all reverence meet +As to my elder brother's feet, +For they will right and law maintain +Until King Ráma come again. +My brother with a loving mind +These sandals to my charge consigned: +I till he come will guard with care +The sacred trust for Raghu's heir. +My watchful task will soon be done, +The pledge restored to Raghu's son; +Then shall I see, his wanderings o'er, +These sandals on his feet once more. +My brother I shall meet at last, +The burthen from my shoulders cast, +To Ráma's hand the realm restore +And serve my elder as before. +When Ráma takes again this pair +Of sandals kept with pious care, +And here his glorious reign begins, +I shall be cleansed from all my sins, +When the glad people's voices ring +With welcome to the new-made king, +Joy will be mine four-fold as great +As if supreme I ruled the state." + + Thus humbly spoke in sad lament +The chief in fame preëminent: +Thus, by his reverent lords obeyed, +At Nandigrám the kingdom swayed. +With hermit's dress and matted hair +He dwelt with all his army there. +The sandals of his brother's feet +Installed upon the royal seat, +He, all his powers to them referred, +Affairs of state administered. + In every care, in every task, + When golden store was brought, + He first, as though their rede to ask, + Those royal sandals sought. + + + + +Canto CXVI. The Hermit's Speech. + + +When Bharat took his homeward road +Still Ráma in the wood abode: +But soon he marked the fear and care +That darkened all the hermits there. +For all who dwelt before the hill +Were sad with dread of coming ill: +Each holy brow was lined by thought, +And Ráma's side they often sought. +With gathering frowns the prince they eyed, +And then withdrew and talked aside. + + Then Raghu's son with anxious breast +The leader of the saints addressed: +"Can aught that I have done displease, +O reverend Sage, the devotees? +Why are their loving looks, O say, +Thus sadly changed or turned away? +Has Lakshman through his want of heed +Offended with unseemly deed? +Or is the gentle Sítá, she +Who loved to honour you and me-- +Is she the cause of this offence, +Failing in lowly reverence?" + + One sage, o'er whom, exceeding old, +Had many a year of penance rolled, +Trembling in every aged limb +Thus for the rest replied to him: +"How could we, O beloved, blame +Thy lofty-souled Videhan dame, +Who in the good of all delights, +And more than all of anchorites? +But yet through thee a numbing dread +Of fiends among our band has spread; +Obstructed by the demons' art +The trembling hermits talk apart. +For Rávan's brother, overbold, +Named Khara, of gigantic mould, +Vexes with fury fierce and fell +All those in Janasthán(399) who dwell. +Resistless in his cruel deeds, +On flesh of men the monster feeds: +Sinful and arrogant is he, +And looks with special hate on thee. +Since thou, beloved son, hast made +Thy home within this holy shade, +The fiends have vexed with wilder rage +The dwellers of the hermitage. +In many a wild and dreadful form +Around the trembling saints they swarm, +With hideous shape and foul disguise +They terrify our holy eyes. +They make our loathing souls endure +Insult and scorn and sights impure, +And flocking round the altars stay +The holy rites we love to pay. +In every spot throughout the grove +With evil thoughts the monsters rove, +Assailing with their secret might +Each unsuspecting anchorite. +Ladle and dish away they fling, +Our fires with floods extinguishing, +And when the sacred flame should burn +They trample on each water-urn. +Now when they see their sacred wood +Plagued by this impious brotherhood, +The troubled saints away would roam +And seek in other shades a home: +Hence will we fly, O Ráma, ere +The cruel fiends our bodies tear. +Not far away a forest lies +Rich in the roots and fruit we prize, +To this will I and all repair +And join the holy hermits there; +Be wise, and with us thither flee +Before this Khara injure thee. +Mighty art thou, O Ráma, yet +Each day with peril is beset. +If with thy consort by thy side +Thou in this wood wilt still abide." + + He ceased: the words the hero spake +The hermit's purpose failed to break: +To Raghu's son farewell he said, +And blessed the chief and comforted; +Then with the rest the holy sage +Departed from the hermitage. + + So from the wood the saints withdrew, +And Ráma bidding all adieu + In lowly reverence bent: +Instructed by their friendly speech, +Blest with the gracious love of each, + To his pure home he went. +Nor would the son of Raghu stray +A moment from that grove away + From which the saints had fled. +And many a hermit thither came +Attracted by his saintly fame + And the pure life he led. + + + + +Canto CXVII. Anasúyá. + + +But dwelling in that lonely spot +Left by the hermits pleased him not. +"I met the faithful Bharat here, +The townsmen, and my mother dear: +The painful memory lingers yet, +And stings me with a vain regret. +And here the host of Bharat camped, +And many a courser here has stamped, +And elephants with ponderous feet +Have trampled through the calm retreat." +So forth to seek a home he hied, +His spouse and Lakshman by his side. +He came to Atri's pure retreat, +Paid reverence to his holy feet, +And from the saint such welcome won +As a fond father gives his son. +The noble prince with joy unfeigned +As a dear guest he entertained, +And cheered the glorious Lakshman too +And Sítá with observance due. +Then Anasúyá at the call +Of him who sought the good of all, +His blameless venerable spouse, +Delighting in her holy vows, +Came from her chamber to his side: +To her the virtuous hermit cried: +"Receive, I pray, with friendly grace +This dame of Maithil monarchs' race:" +To Ráma next made known his wife, +The devotee of saintliest life: +"Ten thousand years this votaress bent +On sternest rites of penance spent; +She when the clouds withheld their rain, +And drought ten years consumed the plain, +Caused grateful roots and fruit to grow +And ordered Gangá here to flow: +So from their cares the saints she freed, +Nor let these checks their rites impede, +She wrought in Heaven's behalf, and made +Ten nights of one, the Gods to aid:(400) +Let holy Anasúyá be +An honoured mother, Prince, to thee. +Let thy Videhan spouse draw near +To her whom all that live revere, +Stricken in years, whose loving mind +Is slow to wrath and ever kind." + + He ceased: and Ráma gave assent, +And said, with eyes on Sítá bent: +"O Princess, thou hast heard with me +This counsel of the devotee: +Now that her touch thy soul may bless, +Approach the saintly votaress: +Come to the venerable dame, +Far known by Anasúyá's name: +The mighty things that she has done +High glory in the world have won." + + Thus spoke the son of Raghu: she +Approached the saintly devotee, +Who with her white locks, old and frail, +Shook like a plantain in the gale. +To that true spouse she bowed her head, +And "Lady, I am Sítá," said: +Raised suppliant hands and prayed her tell +That all was prosperous and well. + + The aged matron, when she saw +Fair Sítá true to duty's law, +Addressed her thus: "High fate is thine +Whose thoughts to virtue still incline. +Thou, lady of the noble mind, +Hast kin and state and wealth resigned +To follow Ráma forced to tread +Where solitary woods are spread. +Those women gain high spheres above +Who still unchanged their husbands love, +Whether they dwell in town or wood, +Whether their hearts be ill or good. +Though wicked, poor, or led away +In love's forbidden paths to stray, +The noble matron still will deem +Her lord a deity supreme. +Regarding kin and friendship, I +Can see no better, holier tie, +And every penance-rite is dim +Beside the joy of serving him. +But dark is this to her whose mind +Promptings of idle fancy blind, +Who led by evil thoughts away +Makes him who should command obey. +Such women, O dear Maithil dame, +Their virtue lose and honest fame, +Enslaved by sin and folly, led +In these unholy paths to tread. +But they who good and true like thee +The present and the future see, +Like men by holy deeds will rise +To mansions in the blissful skies. + So keep thee pure from taint of sin, + Still to thy lord be true, + And fame and merit shalt thou win, + To thy devotion due." + + + + +Canto CXVIII. Anasúyá's Gifts. + + +Thus by the holy dame addressed +Who banished envy from her breast, +Her lowly reverence Sítá paid, +And softly thus her answer made: +"No marvel, best of dames, thy speech +The duties of a wife should teach; +Yet I, O lady, also know +Due reverence to my lord to show. +Were he the meanest of the base, +Unhonoured with a single grace, +My husband still I ne'er would leave, +But firm through all to him would cleave: +Still rather to a lord like mine +Whose virtues high-exalted shine, +Compassionate, of lofty soul, +With every sense in due control, +True in his love, of righteous mind, +Like a dear sire and mother kind. +E'en as he ever loves to treat +Kausalyá with observance meet, +Has his behaviour ever been +To every other honoured queen. +Nay, more, a sonlike reverence shows +The noble Ráma e'en to those +On whom the king his father set +His eyes one moment, to forget. +Deep in my heart the words are stored, +Said by the mother of my lord, +When from my home I turned away +In the lone fearful woods to stray. +The counsel of my mother deep +Impressed upon my soul I keep, +When by the fire I took my stand, +And Ráma clasped in his my hand. +And in my bosom cherished yet, +My friends' advice I ne'er forget: +Woman her holiest offering pays +When she her husband's will obeys. +Good Sávitrí her lord obeyed, +And a high saint in heaven was made, +And for the self-same virtue thou +Hast heaven in thy possession now. +And she with whom no dame could vie, +Now a bright Goddess in the sky, +Sweet Rohiní the Moon's dear Queen, +Without her lord is never seen: +And many a faithful wife beside +For her pure love is glorified." + + Thus Sítá spake: soft rapture stole +Through Anasúyá's saintly soul: +Kisses on Sítá's head she pressed, +And thus the Maithil dame addressed: +"I by long rites and toils endured +Rich store of merit have secured: +From this my wealth will I bestow +A blessing ere I let thee go. +So right and wise and true each word +That from thy lips mine ears have heard, +I love thee: be my pleasing task +To grant the boon that thou shalt ask." + + Then Sítá marvelled much, and while +Played o'er her lips a gentle smile, +"All has been done, O Saint," she cried, +"And naught remains to wish beside." + + She spake; the lady's meek reply +Swelled Anasúyá's rapture high. +"Sítá," she said, "my gift to-day +Thy sweet contentment shall repay. +Accept this precious robe to wear, +Of heavenly fabric, rich and rare, +These gems thy limbs to ornament, +This precious balsam sweet of scent. +O Maithil dame, this gift of mine +Shall make thy limbs with beauty shine, +And breathing o'er thy frame dispense +Its pure and lasting influence. +This balsam on thy fair limbs spread +New radiance on thy lord shall shed, +As Lakshmí's beauty lends a grace +To Vishnu's own celestial face." + + Then Sítá took the gift the dame +Bestowed on her in friendship's name, +The balsam, gems, and robe divine, +And garlands wreathed of bloomy twine; +Then sat her down, with reverence meet, +At saintly Anasúyá's feet. +The matron rich in rites and vows +Turned her to Ráma's Maithil spouse, +And questioned thus in turn to hear +A pleasant tale to charm her ear: +"Sítá, 'tis said that Raghu's son +Thy hand, mid gathered suitors, won. +I fain would hear thee, lady, tell +The story as it all befell: +Do thou repeat each thing that passed, +Reviewing all from first to last." + + Thus spake the dame to Sítá: she +Replying to the devotee, +"Then, lady, thy attention lend," +Rehearsed the story to the end: + + "King Janak, just and brave and strong, +Who loves the right and hates the wrong, +Well skilled in what the law ordains +For Warriors, o'er Videha reigns. +Guiding one morn the plough, his hand +Marked out, for rites the sacred land, +When, as the ploughshare cleft the earth, +Child of the king I leapt to birth. +Then as the ground he smoothed and cleared, +He saw me all with dust besmeared, +And on the new-found babe, amazed +The ruler of Videha gazed. +In childless love the monarch pressed +The welcome infant to his breast: +"My daughter," thus he cried, "is she:" +And as his child he cared for me. +Forth from the sky was heard o'erhead +As 'twere a human voice that said: +"Yea, even so: great King, this child +Henceforth thine own be justly styled." +Videha's monarch, virtuous souled, +Rejoiced o'er me with joy untold, +Delighting in his new-won prize, +The darling of his heart and eyes. +To his chief queen of saintly mind +The precious treasure he consigned, +And by her side she saw me grow, +Nursed with the love which mothers know. +Then as he saw the seasons fly, +And knew my marriage-time was nigh, +My sire was vexed with care, as sad +As one who mourns the wealth he had: +"Scorn on the maiden's sire must wait +From men of high and low estate: +The virgin's father all despise, +Though Indra's peer, who rules the skies." +More near he saw, and still more near, +The scorn that filled his soul with fear, +On trouble's billowy ocean tossed, +Like one whose shattered bark is lost. +My father knowing how I came, +No daughter of a mortal dame, +In all the regions failed to see +A bridegroom meet to match with me. +Each way with anxious thought he scanned, +And thus at length the monarch planned: +"The Bride's Election will I hold, +With every rite prescribed of old." +It pleased King Varun to bestow +Quiver and shafts and heavenly bow +Upon my father's sire who reigned, +When Daksha his great rite ordained. +Where was the man might bend or lift +With utmost toil that wondrous gift? +Not e'en in dreams could mortal king +Strain the great bow or draw the string. +Of this tremendous bow possessed, +My truthful father thus addressed +The lords of many a region, all +Assembled at the monarch's call: +"Whoe'er this bow can manage, he +The husband of my child shall be." +The suitors viewed with hopeless eyes +That wondrous bow of mountain size, +Then to my sire they bade adieu, +And all with humbled hearts withdrew. +At length with Visvámitra came +This son of Raghu, dear to fame, +The royal sacrifice to view. +Near to my father's home he drew, +His brother Lakshman by his side, +Ráma, in deeds heroic tried. +My sire with honour entertained +The saint in lore of duty trained, +Who thus in turn addressed the king: +"Ráma and Lakshman here who spring +From royal Dasaratha, long +To see thy bow so passing strong." + + Before the prince's eyes was laid +That marvel, as the Bráhman prayed. +One moment on the bow he gazed, +Quick to the notch the string he raised, +Then, in the wandering people's view, +The cord with mighty force he drew. +Then with an awful crash as loud +As thunderbolts that cleave the cloud, +The bow beneath the matchless strain +Of arms heroic snapped in twain. +Thus, giving purest water, he, +My sire, to Ráma offered me. +The prince the offered gift declined +Till he should learn his father's mind; +So horsemen swift Ayodhyá sought +And back her aged monarch brought. +Me then my sire to Ráma gave, +Self-ruled, the bravest of the brave. +And Urmilá, the next to me, +Graced with all gifts, most fair to see, +My sire with Raghu's house allied, +And gave her to be Lakshman's bride. +Thus from the princes of the land +Lord Ráma won my maiden hand, +And him exalted high above +Heroic chiefs I truly love." + + + + +Canto CXIX. The Forest. + + +When Anasúyá, virtuous-souled, +Had heard the tale by Sítá told, +She kissed the lady's brow and laced +Her loving arms around her waist. +"With sweet-toned words distinct and clear +Thy pleasant tale has charmed mine ear, +How the great king thy father held +That Maiden's Choice unparalleled. +But now the sun has sunk from sight, +And left the world to holy Night. +Hark! how the leafy thickets sound +With gathering birds that twitter round: +They sought their food by day, and all +Flock homeward when the shadows fall. +See, hither comes the hermit band, +Each with his pitcher in his hand: +Fresh from the bath, their locks are wet, +Their coats of bark are dripping yet. +Here saints their fires of worship tend, +And curling wreaths of smoke ascend: +Borne on the flames they mount above, +Dark as the brown wings of the dove. +The distant trees, though well-nigh bare, +Gloom thickened by the evening air, +And in the faint uncertain light +Shut the horizon from our sight. +The beasts that prowl in darkness rove +On every side about the grove, +And the tame deer, at ease reclined +Their shelter near the altars find. +The night o'er all the sky is spread, +With lunar stars engarlanded, +And risen in his robes of light +The moon is beautifully bright. +Now to thy lord I bid thee go: +Thy pleasant tale has charmed me so: +One thing alone I needs must pray, +Before me first thyself array: +Here in thy heavenly raiment shine, +And glad, dear love, these eyes of mine." +Then like a heavenly Goddess shone +Fair Sítá with that raiment on. +She bowed her to the matron's feet, +Then turned away her lord to meet. +The hero prince with joy surveyed +His Sítá in her robes arrayed, +As glorious to his arms she came +With love-gifts of the saintly dame. +She told him how the saint to show +Her fond affection would bestow +That garland of celestial twine, +Those ornaments and robes divine. +Then Ráma's heart, nor Lakshman's less, +Was filled with pride and happiness, +For honours high had Sítá gained, +Which mortal dames have scarce obtained. +There honoured by each pious sage +Who dwelt within the hermitage, +Beside his darling well content +That sacred night the hero spent. + + The princes, when the night had fled, +Farewell to all the hermits said, +Who gazed upon the distant shade, +Their lustral rites and offerings paid. +The saints who made their dwelling there +In words like these addressed the pair: +"O Princes, monsters fierce and fell +Around that distant forest dwell: +On blood from human veins they feed, +And various forms assume at need, +With savage beasts of fearful power +That human flesh and blood devour. +Our holy saints they rend and tear +When met alone or unaware, +And eat them in their cruel joy: +These chase, O Ráma, or destroy. +By this one path our hermits go +To fetch the fruits that yonder grow: +By this, O Prince, thy feet should stray +Through pathless forests far away." + + Thus by the reverent saints addressed, +And by their prayers auspicious blessed, + He left the holy crowd: +His wife and brother by his side, +Within the mighty wood he hied. +So sinks the Day-God in his pride + Beneath a bank of cloud. + + + + + +BOOK III. + + + + +Canto I. The Hermitage. + + +When Ráma, valiant hero, stood +In the vast shade of Dandak wood, +His eyes on every side he bent +And saw a hermit settlement, +Where coats of bark were hung around, +And holy grass bestrewed the ground. +Bright with Bráhmanic lustre glowed +That circle where the saints abode: +Like the hot sun in heaven it shone, +Too dazzling to be looked upon. +Wild creatures found a refuge where +The court, well-swept, was bright and fair, +And countless birds and roedeer made +Their dwelling in the friendly shade. +Beneath the boughs of well-loved trees +Oft danced the gay Apsarases.(401) +Around was many an ample shed +Wherein the holy fire was fed; +With sacred grass and skins of deer, +Ladles and sacrificial gear, +And roots and fruit, and wood to burn, +And many a brimming water-urn. +Tall trees their hallowed branches spread, +Laden with pleasant fruit, o'erhead; +And gifts which holy laws require,(402) +And solemn offerings burnt with fire,(403) +And Veda chants on every side +That home of hermits sanctified. +There many a flower its odour shed, +And lotus blooms the lake o'erspred. +There, clad in coats of bark and hide,-- +Their food by roots and fruit supplied,-- +Dwelt many an old and reverend sire +Bright as the sun or Lord of Fire, +All with each worldly sense subdued, +A pure and saintly multitude. +The Veda chants, the saints who trod +The sacred ground and mused on God, +Made that delightful grove appear +Like Brahmá's own most glorious sphere. +As Raghu's splendid son surveyed +That hermit home and tranquil shade, +He loosed his mighty bow-string, then +Drew nearer to the holy men. +With keen celestial sight endued +Those mighty saints the chieftain viewed, +With joy to meet the prince they came, +And gentle Sítá dear to fame. +They looked on virtuous Ráma, fair +As Soma(404) in the evening air, +And Lakshman by his brother's side, +And Sítá long in duty tried, +And with glad blessings every sage +Received them in the hermitage. +Then Ráma's form and stature tall +Entranced the wondering eyes of all,-- +His youthful grace, his strength of limb, +And garb that nobly sat on him. +To Lakshman too their looks they raised, +And upon Sítá's beauty gazed +With eyes that closed not lest their sight +Should miss the vision of delight. +Then the pure hermits of the wood, +Rejoicing in all creatures' good, +Their guest, the glorious Ráma, led +Within a cot with leaves o'erhead. +With highest honour all the best +Of radiant saints received their guest, +With kind observance, as is meet, +And gave him water for his feet. +To highest pitch of rapture wrought +Their stores of roots and fruit they brought. +They poured their blessings on his head, +And "All we have is thine," they said. +Then, reverent hand to hand applied,(405) +Each duty-loving hermit cried: +"The king is our protector, bright +In fame, maintainer of the right. +He bears the awful sword, and hence +Deserves an elder's reverence. +One fourth of Indra's essence, he +Preserves his realm from danger free, +Hence honoured by the world of right +The king enjoys each choice delight. +Thou shouldst to us protection give, +For in thy realm, dear lord, we live: +Whether in town or wood thou be, +Thou art our king, thy people we. +Our wordly aims are laid aside, +Our hearts are tamed and purified. +To thee our guardian, we who earn +Our only wealth by penance turn." + + Then the pure dwellers in the shade +To Raghu's son due honour paid, +And Lakshman, bringing store of roots, +And many a flower, and woodland fruits. +And others strove the prince to please +With all attentive courtesies. + + + + +Canto II. Virádha. + + +Thus entertained he passed the night, +Then, with the morning's early light, +To all the hermits bade adieu +And sought his onward way anew. +He pierced the mighty forest where +Roamed many a deer and pard and bear: +Its ruined pools he scarce could see. +For creeper rent and prostrate tree, +Where shrill cicada's cries were heard, +And plaintive notes of many a bird. +Deep in the thickets of the wood +With Lakshman and his spouse he stood, +There in the horrid shade he saw +A giant passing nature's law: +Vast as some mountain-peak in size, +With mighty voice and sunken eyes, +Huge, hideous, tall, with monstrous face, +Most ghastly of his giant race. +A tiger's hide the Rákshas wore +Still reeking with the fat and gore: +Huge-faced, like Him who rules the dead, +All living things he struck with dread. +Three lions, tigers four, ten deer +He carried on his iron spear, +Two wolves, an elephant's head beside +With mighty tusks which blood-drops dyed. +When on the three his fierce eye fell, +He charged them with a roar and yell +As furious as the grisly King +When stricken worlds are perishing. +Then with a mighty roar that shook +The earth beneath their feet, he took +The trembling Sítá to his side. +Withdrew a little space, and cried: +"Ha, short lived wretches, ye who dare, +In hermit dress with matted hair, +Armed each with arrows, sword, and bow, +Through Dandak's pathless wood to go: +How with one dame, I bid you tell, +Can you among ascetics dwell? +Who are ye, sinners, who despise +The right, in holy men's disguise? +The great Virádha, day by day +Through this deep-tangled wood I stray, +And ever, armed with trusty steel, +I seize a saint to make my meal. +This woman young and fair of frame +Shall be the conquering giant's dame: +Your blood, ye things of evil life, +My lips shall quaff in battle strife." + + He spoke: and Janak's hapless child, +Scared by his speech so fierce and wild, +Trembled for terror, as a frail +Young plantain shivers in the gale. +When Ráma saw Virádha clasp +Fair Sítá in his mighty grasp, +Thus with pale lips that terror dried +The hero to his brother cried: +"O see Virádha's arm enfold +My darling in its cursed hold,-- +The child of Janak best of kings, +My spouse whose soul to virtue clings, +Sweet princess, with pure glory bright, +Nursed in the lap of soft delight. +Now falls the blow Kaikeyí meant, +Successful in her dark intent: +This day her cruel soul will be +Triumphant over thee and me. +Though Bharat on the throne is set, +Her greedy eyes look farther yet: +Me from my home she dared expel, +Me whom all creatures loved so well. +This fatal day at length, I ween, +Brings triumph to the younger queen. +I see with bitterest grief and shame +Another touch the Maithil dame. +Not loss of sire and royal power +So grieves me as this mournful hour." + + Thus in his anguish cried the chief: +Then drowned in tears, o'erwhelmed by grief, +Thus Lakshman in his anger spake, +Quick panting like a spell-bound snake: + + "Canst thou, my brother, Indra's peer, +When I thy minister am near, +Thus grieve like some forsaken thing, +Thou, every creature's lord and king? +My vengeful shaft the fiend shall slay, +And earth shall drink his blood to-day. +The fury which my soul at first +Upon usurping Bharat nursed, +On this Virádha will I wreak +As Indra splits the mountain peak. +Winged by this arm's impetuous might + My shaft with deadly force +The monster in the chest shall smite, + And fell his shattered corse." + + + + +Canto III. Virádha Attacked. + + +Virádha with a fearful shout +That echoed through the wood, cried out: + + "What men are ye, I bid you say, +And whither would ye bend your way?" + + To him whose mouth shot fiery flame +The hero told his race and name: +"Two Warriors, nobly bred, are we, +And through this wood we wander free. +But who art thou, how born and styled, +Who roamest here in Dandak's wild?" + + To Ráma, bravest of the brave, +His answer thus Virádha gave: +"Hear, Raghu's son, and mark me well, +And I my name and race will tell. +Of Satahradá born, I spring +From Java as my sire, O King: +Me, of this lofty lineage, all +Giants on earth Virádha call. +The rites austere I long maintained +From Brahmá's grace the boon have gained +To bear a charmed frame which ne'er +Weapon or shaft may pierce or tear. +Go as ye came, untouched by fear, +And leave with me this woman here: +Go, swiftly from my presence fly, +Or by this hand ye both shall die." + + Then Ráma with his fierce eyes red +With fury to the giant said: +"Woe to thee, sinner, fond and weak, +Who madly thus thy death wilt seek! +Stand, for it waits thee in the fray: +With life thou ne'er shalt flee away." + + He spoke, and raised the cord whereon +A pointed arrow flashed and shone, +Then, wild with anger, from his bow, +He launched the weapon on the foe. +Seven times the fatal cord he drew, +And forth seven rapid arrows flew, +Shafts winged with gold that left the wind +And e'en Suparna's(406) self behind. +Full on the giant's breast they smote, +And purpled like the peacock's throat, +Passed through his mighty bulk and came +To earth again like flakes of flame. +The fiend the Maithil dame unclasped; +In his fierce hand his spear he grasped, +And wild with rage, pierced through and through, +At Ráma and his brother flew. +So loud the roar which chilled with fear, +So massy was the monster's spear, +He seemed, like Indra's flagstaff, dread +As the dark God who rules the dead. +On huge Virádha fierce as He(407) +Who smites, and worlds have ceased to be, +The princely brothers poured amain +Their fiery flood of arrowy rain. +Unmoved he stood, and opening wide +His dire mouth laughed unterrified, +And ever as the monster gaped +Those arrows from his jaws escaped. +Preserving still his life unharmed, +By Brahmá's saving promise charmed, +His mighty spear aloft in air +He raised, and rushed upon the pair. +From Ráma's bow two arrows flew +And cleft that massive spear in two, +Dire as the flaming levin sent +From out the cloudy firmament. +Cut by the shafts he guided well +To earth the giant's weapon fell: +As when from Meru's summit, riven +By fiery bolts, a rock is driven. +Then swift his sword each warrior drew, +Like a dread serpent black of hue, +And gathering fury for the blow +Rushed fiercely on the giant foe. +Around each prince an arm he cast, +And held the dauntless heroes fast: +Then, though his gashes gaped and bled, +Bearing the twain he turned and fled. + + Then Ráma saw the giant's plan, +And to his brother thus began: +"O Lakshman, let Virádha still +Hurry us onward as he will, +For look, Sumitrá's son, he goes +Along the path we freely chose." + + He spoke: the rover of the night +Upraised them with terrific might, +Till, to his lofty shoulders swung, +Like children to his neck they clung. +Then sending far his fearful roar, +The princes through the wood he bore,-- +A wood like some vast cloud to view, +Where birds of every plumage flew, +And mighty trees o'erarching threw + Dark shadows on the ground; +Where snakes and silvan creatures made +Their dwelling, and the jackal strayed + Through tangled brakes around. + + + + +Canto IV. Virádha's Death. + + +But Sítá viewed with wild affright +The heroes hurried from her sight. +She tossed her shapely arms on high, +And shrieked aloud her bitter cry: +"Ah, the dread giant bears away +The princely Ráma as his prey, +Truthful and pure, and good and great, +And Lakshman shares his brother's fate. +The brindled tiger and the bear +My mangled limbs for food will tear. +Take me, O best of giants, me, +And leave the sons of Raghu free." + + Then, by avenging fury spurred, +Her mournful cry the heroes heard, +And hastened, for the lady's sake, +The wicked monster's life to take. +Then Lakshman with resistless stroke +The foe's left arm that held him broke, +And Ráma too, as swift to smite, +Smashed with his heavy hand the right. +With broken arms and tortured frame +To earth the fainting giant came, +Like a huge cloud, or mighty rock +Rent, sundered by the levin's shock. +Then rushed they on, and crushed and beat +Their foe with arms and fists and feet, +And nerved each mighty limb to pound +And bray him on the level ground. +Keen arrows and each biting blade +Wide rents in breast and side had made; +But crushed and torn and mangled, still +The monster lived they could not kill. +When Ráma saw no arms might slay +The fiend who like a mountain lay, +The glorious hero, swift to save +In danger, thus his counsel gave: +"O Prince of men, his charmed life +No arms may take in battle strife: +Now dig we in this grove a pit +His elephantine bulk to fit, +And let the hollowed earth enfold +The monster of gigantic mould." + + This said, the son of Raghu pressed +His foot upon the giant's breast. +With joy the prostrate monster heard +Victorious Ráma's welcome word, +And straight Kakutstha's son, the best +Of men, in words like these addressed: +"I yield, O chieftain, overthrown +By might that vies with Indra's own. +Till now my folly-blinded eyes +Thee, hero, failed to recognize. +Happy Kausalyá! blest to be +The mother of a son like thee! +I know thee well, O chieftain, now: +Ráma, the prince of men, art thou. +There stands the high-born Maithil dame, +There Lakshman, lord of mighty fame. +My name was Tumburu,(408) for song +Renowned among the minstrel throng: +Cursed by Kuvera's stern decree +I wear the hideous shape you see. +But when I sued, his grace to crave, +The glorious God this answer gave: +"When Ráma, Dasaratha's son, +Destroys thee and the fight is won, +Thy proper shape once more assume, +And heaven again shall give thee room." +When thus the angry God replied, +No prayers could turn his wrath aside, +And thus on me his fury fell +For loving Rambhá's(409) charms too well. +Now through thy favour am I freed +From the stern fate the God decreed, +And saved, O tamer of the foe, +By thee, to heaven again shall go. +A league, O Prince, beyond this spot +Stands holy Sarabhanga's cot: +The very sun is not more bright +Than that most glorious anchorite: +To him, O Ráma, quickly turn, +And blessings from the hermit earn. +First under earth my body throw, +Then on thy way rejoicing go. +Such is the law ordained of old +For giants when their days are told: +Their bodies laid in earth, they rise +To homes eternal in the skies." + + Thus, by the rankling dart oppressed, +Kakutstha's offspring he addressed: +In earth his mighty body lay, +His spirit fled to heaven away. + + Thus spake Virádha ere he died; +And Ráma to his brother cried: +"Now dig we in this grove a pit +His elephantine bulk to fit. +And let the hollowed earth enfold +This mighty giant fierce and bold." + + This said, the valiant hero put +Upon the giant's neck his foot. +His spade obedient Lakshman plied, +And dug a pit both deep and wide +By lofty souled Virádha's side. +Then Raghu's son his foot withdrew, +And down the mighty form they threw; +One awful shout of joy he gave +And sank into the open grave. +The heroes, to their purpose true, +In fight the cruel demon slew, + And radiant with delight +Deep in the hollowed earth they cast +The monster roaring to the last, + In their resistless might. +Thus when they saw the warrior's steel +No life-destroying blow might deal, + The pair, for lore renowned, +Deep in the pit their hands had made +The unresisting giant laid, + And killed him neath the ground. +Upon himself the monster brought +From Ráma's hand the death he sought + With strong desire to gain: +And thus the rover of the night +Told Ráma, as they strove in fight, +That swords might rend and arrows smite + Upon his breast in vain. +Thus Ráma, when his speech he heard, +The giant's mighty form interred, + Which mortal arms defied. +With thundering crash the giant fell, +And rock and cave and forest dell + With echoing roar replied. +The princes, when their task was done +And freedom from the peril won, + Rejoiced to see him die. +Then in the boundless wood they strayed, +Like the great sun and moon displayed + Triumphant in the sky.(410) + + + + +Canto V. Sarabhanga. + + +Then Ráma, having slain in fight +Virádha of terrific might, +With gentle words his spouse consoled, +And clasped her in his loving hold. +Then to his brother nobly brave +The valiant prince his counsel gave: +"Wild are these woods around us spread; +And hard and rough the ground to tread: +We, O my brother, ne'er have viewed +So dark and drear a solitude: +To Sarabhanga let us haste, +Whom wealth of holy works has graced." + + Thus Ráma spoke, and took the road +To Sarabhanga's pure abode. +But near that saint whose lustre vied +With Gods, by penance purified, +With startled eyes the prince beheld +A wondrous sight unparalleled. +In splendour like the fire and sun +He saw a great and glorious one. +Upon a noble car he rode, +And many a God behind him glowed: +And earth beneath his feet unpressed(411) +The monarch of the skies confessed. +Ablaze with gems, no dust might dim +The bright attire that covered him. +Arrayed like him, on every side +High saints their master glorified. +Near, borne in air, appeared in view +His car which tawny coursers drew, +Like silver cloud, the moon, or sun +Ere yet the day is well begun. +Wreathed with gay garlands, o'er his head +A pure white canopy was spread, +And lovely nymphs stood nigh to hold +Fair chouris with their sticks of gold, +Which, waving in each gentle hand, +The forehead of their monarch fanned. +God, saint, and bard, a radiant ring, +Sang glory to their heavenly King: +Forth into joyful lauds they burst +As Indra with the sage conversed. +Then Ráma, when his wondering eyes +Beheld the monarch of the skies, +To Lakshman quickly called, and showed +The car wherein Lord Indra rode: +"See, brother, see that air-borne car, +Whose wondrous glory shines afar: +Wherefrom so bright a lustre streams +That like a falling sun it seems: +These are the steeds whose fame we know, +Of heavenly race through heaven they go: +These are the steeds who bear the yoke +Of Sakra,(412) Him whom all invoke. +Behold these youths, a glorious band, +Toward every wind a hundred stand: +A sword in each right hand is borne, +And rings of gold their arms adorn. +What might in every broad deep chest +And club-like arm is manifest! +Clothed in attire of crimson hue +They show like tigers fierce to view. +Great chains of gold each warder deck, +Gleaming like fire beneath his neck. +The age of each fair youth appears +Some score and five of human years: +The ever-blooming prime which they +Who live in heaven retain for aye: +Such mien these lordly beings wear, +Heroic youths, most bright and fair. +Now, brother, in this spot, I pray, +With the Videhan lady stay, +Till I have certain knowledge who +This being is, so bright to view." + + He spoke, and turning from the spot +Sought Sarabhanga's hermit cot. +But when the lord of Sachí(413) saw +The son of Raghu near him draw, +He hastened of the sage to take +His leave, and to his followers spake: + + "See, Ráma bends his steps this way, +But ere he yet a word can say, +Come, fly to our celestial sphere; +It is not meet he see me here. +Soon victor and triumphant he +In fitter time shall look on me. +Before him still a great emprise, +A task too hard for others, lies." + + Then with all marks of honour high +The Thunderer bade the saint good-bye, +And in his car which coursers drew +Away to heaven the conqueror flew. +Then Ráma, Lakshman, and the dame, +To Sarabhanga nearer came, +Who sat beside the holy flame. +Before the ancient sage they bent, +And clasped his feet most reverent; +Then at his invitation found +A seat beside him on the ground. +Then Ráma prayed the sage would deign +Lord Indra's visit to explain; +And thus at length the holy man +In answer to his prayer began: + + "This Lord of boons has sought me here +To waft me hence to Brahmá's sphere, +Won by my penance long and stern,-- +A home the lawless ne'er can earn. +But when I knew that thou wast nigh, +To Brahmá's world I could not fly +Until these longing eyes were blest +With seeing thee, mine honoured guest. +Since thou, O Prince, hast cheered my sight, +Great-hearted lover of the right, +To heavenly spheres will I repair +And bliss supreme that waits me there. +For I have won, dear Prince, my way +To those fair worlds which ne'er decay, +Celestial seat of Brahmá's reign: +Be thine, with me, those worlds to gain." + + Then master of all sacred lore, +Spake Ráma to the saint once more: + + "I, even I, illustrious sage, +Will make those worlds mine heritage: +But now, I pray, some home assign +Within this holy grove of thine." + + Thus Ráma, Indra's peer in might, +Addressed the aged anchorite: +And he, with wisdom well endued, +To Raghu's son his speech renewed: + + "Sutíkshna's woodland home is near, +A glorious saint of life austere, +True to the path of duty; he +With highest bliss will prosper thee. +Against the stream thy course must be +Of this fair brook Mandákiní, +Whereon light rafts like blossoms glide; +Then to his cottage turn aside. +There lies thy path: but ere thou go, +Look on me, dear one, till I throw +Aside this mould that girds me in, +As casts the snake his withered skin." + + He spoke, the fire in order laid +With holy oil due offerings made, +And Sarabhanga, glorious sire, +Laid down his body in the fire. +Then rose the flame above his head, +On skin, blood, flesh, and bones it fed, +Till forth, transformed, with radiant hue +Of tender youth, he rose anew, +Far-shining in his bright attire +Came Sarabhanga from the pyre: +Above the home of saints, and those +Who feed the quenchless flame,(414) he rose: +Beyond the seat of Gods he passed, +And Brahmá's sphere was gained at last. +The noblest of the twice-born race, +For holy works supreme in place, +The Mighty Father there beheld +Girt round by hosts unparalleled; +And Brahmá joying at the sight +Welcomed the glorious anchorite. + + + + +Canto VI. Ráma's Promise. + + +When he his heavenly home had found, +The holy men who dwelt around +To Ráma flocked, whose martial fame +Shone glorious as the kindled flame: +Vaikhánasas(415) who love the wild, +Pure hermits Bálakhilyas(416) styled, +Good Samprakshálas,(417) saints who live +On rays which moon and daystar give: +Those who with leaves their lives sustain +And those who pound with stones their grain: +And they who lie in pools, and those +Whose corn, save teeth, no winnow knows: +Those who for beds the cold earth use, +And those who every couch refuse: +And those condemned to ceaseless pains, +Whose single foot their weight sustains: +And those who sleep neath open skies, +Whose food the wave or air supplies, +And hermits pure who spend their nights +On ground prepared for sacred rites; +Those who on hills their vigil hold, +Or dripping clothes around them fold: +The devotees who live for prayer, +Or the five fires(418) unflinching bear. +On contemplation all intent, +With light that heavenly knowledge lent, +They came to Ráma, saint and sage, +In Sarabhanga's hermitage. +The hermit crowd around him pressed, +And thus the virtuous chief addressed: +"The lordship of the earth is thine, +O Prince of old Ikshváku's line. +Lord of the Gods is Indra, so +Thou art our lord and guide below. +Thy name, the glory of thy might, +Throughout the triple world are bright: +Thy filial love so nobly shown, +Thy truth and virtue well are known. +To thee, O lord, for help we fly, +And on thy love of right rely: +With kindly patience hear us speak, +And grant the boon we humbly seek. +That lord of earth were most unjust, +Foul traitor to his solemn trust, +Who should a sixth of all(419) require, +Nor guard his people like a sire. +But he who ever watchful strives +To guard his subjects' wealth and lives, +Dear as himself or, dearer still, +His sons, with earnest heart and will,-- +That king, O Raghu's son, secures +High fame that endless years endures, +And he to Brahmá's world shall rise, +Made glorious in the eternal skies. +Whate'er, by duty won, the meed +Of saints whom roots and berries feed, +One fourth thereof, for tender care +Of subjects, is the monarch's share. +These, mostly of the Bráhman race, +Who make the wood their dwelling-place, +Although a friend in thee they view, +Fall friendless neath the giant crew. +Come, Ráma, come, and see hard by +The holy hermits' corpses lie, +Where many a tangled pathway shows +The murderous work of cruel foes. +These wicked fiends the hermits kill-- +Who live on Chitrakúta's hill, +And blood of slaughtered saints has dyed +Mandákiní and Pampá's side. +No longer can we bear to see +The death of saint and devotee +Whom through the forest day by day +These Rákshasas unpitying slay. +To thee, O Prince, we flee, and crave +Thy guardian help our lives to save. +From these fierce rovers of the night +Defend each stricken anchorite. +Throughout the world 'twere vain to seek +An arm like thine to aid the weak. +O Prince, we pray thee hear our call, +And from these fiends preserve us all." + + The son of Raghu heard the plaint +Of penance-loving sage and saint, +And the good prince his speech renewed +To all the hermit multitude: + + "To me, O saints, ye need not sue: +I wait the hests of all of you. +I by mine own occasion led +This mighty forest needs must tread, +And while I keep my sire's decree +Your lives from threatening foes will free. +I hither came of free accord +To lend the aid by you implored, +And richest meed my toil shall pay, +While here in forest shades I stay. +I long in battle strife to close. +And slay these fiends, the hermits' foes, +That saint and sage may learn aright +My prowess and my brother's might." + + Thus to the saints his promise gave +That prince who still to virtue clave + With never-wandering thought: +And then with Lakshman by his side, +With penance-wealthy men to guide, + Sutíkshna's home he sought. + + + + +Canto VII. Sutíkshna. + + +So Raghu's son, his foemen's dread, +With Sítá and his brother sped, +Girt round by many a twice-born sage, +To good Sutíkshna's hermitage.(420) +Through woods for many a league he passed, +O'er rushing rivers full and fast, +Until a mountain fair and bright +As lofty Meru rose in sight. +Within its belt of varied wood +Ikshváku's sons and Sítá stood, +Where trees of every foliage bore +Blossom and fruit in endless store. +There coats of bark, like garlands strung, +Before a lonely cottage hung, +And there a hermit, dust-besmeared, +A lotus on his breast, appeared. +Then Ráma with obeisance due +Addressed the sage, as near he drew: +"My name is Ráma, lord; I seek +Thy presence, saint, with thee to speak. +O sage, whose merits ne'er decay, +Some word unto thy servant say." + + The sage his eyes on Ráma bent, +Of virtue's friends preëminent; +Then words like these he spoke, and pressed +The son of Raghu to his breast: +"Welcome to thee, illustrious youth, +Best champion of the rights of truth! +By thine approach this holy ground +A worthy lord this day has found. +I could not quit this mortal frame +Till thou shouldst come, O dear to fame: +To heavenly spheres I would not rise, +Expecting thee with eager eyes. +I knew that thou, unkinged, hadst made +Thy home in Chitrakúta's shade. +E'en now, O Ráma, Indra, lord +Supreme by all the Gods adored, +King of the Hundred Offerings,(421) said, +When he my dwelling visited, +That the good works that I have done +My choice of all the worlds have won. +Accept this meed of holy vows, +And with thy brother and thy spouse, +Roam, through my favour, in the sky +Which saints celestial glorify." + + To that bright sage, of penance stern, +The high-souled Ráma spake in turn, +As Vásava(422) who rules the skies +To Brahmá's gracious speech replies: +"I of myself those worlds will win, +O mighty hermit pure from sin: +But now, O saint, I pray thee tell +Where I within this wood may dwell: +For I by Sarabhanga old, +The son of Gautama, was told +That thou in every lore art wise, +And seest all with loving eyes." + + Thus to the saint, whose glories high +Filled all the world, he made reply: +And thus again the holy man +His pleasant speech with joy began: +"This calm retreat, O Prince, is blest +With many a charm: here take thy rest. +Here roots and kindly fruits abound, +And hermits love the holy ground. +Fair silvan beasts and gentle deer +In herds unnumbered wander here: +And as they roam, secure from harm, +Our eyes with grace and beauty charm: +Except the beasts in thickets bred, +This grove of ours has naught to dread." + + The hermit's speech when Ráma heard,-- +The hero ne'er by terror stirred,-- +On his great bow his hand he laid, +And thus in turn his answer made: +"O saint, my darts of keenest steel, +Armed with their murderous barbs, would deal +Destruction mid the silvan race +That flocks around thy dwelling-place. +Most wretched then my fate would be +For such dishonour shown to thee: +And only for the briefest stay +Would I within this grove delay." + + He spoke and ceased. With pious care +He turned him to his evening prayer, +Performed each customary rite, +And sought his lodging for the night, +With Sítá and his brother laid +Beneath the grove's delightful shade, +First good Sutíkshna, as elsewhere, when he saw +The shades of night around them draw, + With hospitable care +The princely chieftains entertained +With store of choicest food ordained + For holy hermit's fare. + + + + +Canto VIII. The Hermitage. + + +So Ráma and Sumitrá's son, +When every honour due was done, +Slept through the night. When morning broke, +The heroes from their rest awoke. +Betimes the son of Raghu rose, +With gentle Sítá, from repose, +And sipped the cool delicious wave +Sweet with the scent the lotus gave, +Then to the Gods and sacred flame +The heroes and the lady came, +And bent their heads in honour meet +Within the hermit's pure retreat. +When every stain was purged away, +They saw the rising Lord of Day: +Then to Sutíkshna's side they went, +And softly spoke, most reverent: + + "Well have we slept, O holy lord, +Honoured of thee by all adored: +Now leave to journey forth we pray: +These hermits urge us on our way. +We haste to visit, wandering by, +The ascetics' homes that round you lie, +And roaming Dandak's mighty wood +To view each saintly brotherhood, +For thy permission now we sue, +With these high saints to duty true, +By penance taught each sense to tame,-- +In lustre like the smokeless flame. +Ere on our brows the sun can beat +With fierce intolerable heat. +Like some unworthy lord who wins +His power by tyranny and sins, +O saint, we fain would part." The three +Bent humbly to the devotee. +He raised the princes as they pressed +His feet, and strained them to his breast; +And then the chief of devotees +Bespake them both in words like these: +"Go with thy brother, Ráma, go, +Pursue thy path untouched by woe: +Go with thy faithful Sítá, she +Still like a shadow follows thee. +Roam Dandak wood observing well +The pleasant homes where hermits dwell,-- +Pure saints whose ordered souls adhere +To penance rites and vows austere. +There plenteous roots and berries grow, +And noble trees their blossoms show, +And gentle deer and birds of air +In peaceful troops are gathered there. +There see the full-blown lotus stud +The bosom of the lucid flood, +And watch the joyous mallard shake +The reeds that fringe the pool and lake. +See with delighted eye the rill +Leap sparkling from her parent hill, +And hear the woods that round thee lie +Reëcho to the peacock's cry. +And as I bid thy brother, so, +Sumitrá's child, I bid thee go. +Go forth, these varied beauties see, +And then once more return to me." + + Thus spake the sage Sutíkshna: both +The chiefs assented, nothing loth, +Round him with circling steps they paced, +Then for the road prepared with haste. +There Sítá stood, the dame long-eyed, +Fair quivers round their waists she tied, +And gave each prince his trusty bow, +And sword which ne'er a spot might know. +Each took his quiver from her hand. +And clanging bow and gleaming brand: +Then from the hermits' home the two +Went forth each woodland scene to view. +Each beauteous in the bloom of age, +Dismissed by that illustrious sage, +With bow and sword accoutred, hied +Away, and Sítá by their side. + + + + +Canto IX. Sítá's Speech. + + +Blest by the sage, when Raghu's son +His onward journey had begun, +Thus in her soft tone Sítá, meek +With modest fear, began to speak: +"One little slip the great may lead +To shame that follows lawless deed: +Such shame, my lord, as still must cling +To faults from low desire that spring. +Three several sins defile the soul, +Born of desire that spurns control: +First, utterance of a lying word, +Then, viler both, the next, and third: +The lawless love of other's wife, +The thirst of blood uncaused by strife. +The first, O Raghu's son, in thee +None yet has found, none e'er shall see. +Love of another's dame destroys +All merit, lost for guilty joys: +Ráma, such crime in thee, I ween, +Has ne'er been found, shall ne'er be seen: +The very thought, my princely lord, +Is in thy secret soul abhorred. +For thou hast ever been the same +Fond lover of thine own dear dame, +Content with faithful heart to do +Thy father's will, most just and true: +Justice, and faith, and many a grace +In thee have found a resting-place. +Such virtues, Prince, the good may gain +Who empire o'er each sense retain; +And well canst thou, with loving view +Regarding all, each sense subdue. +But for the third, the lust that strives, +Insatiate still, for others' lives,-- +Fond thirst of blood where hate is none,-- +This, O my lord, thou wilt not shun. +Thou hast but now a promise made, +The saints of Dandak wood to aid: +And to protect their lives from ill +The giants' blood in tight wilt spill: +And from thy promise lasting fame +Will glorify the forest's name. +Armed with thy bow and arrows thou +Forth with thy brother journeyest now, +While as I think how true thou art +Fears for thy bliss assail my heart, +And all my spirit at the sight +Is troubled with a strange affright. +I like it not--it seems not good-- +Thy going thus to Dandak wood: +And I, if thou wilt mark me well, +The reason of my fear will tell. +Thou with thy brother, bow in hand, +Beneath those ancient trees wilt stand, +And thy keen arrows will not spare +Wood-rovers who will meet thee there. +For as the fuel food supplies +That bids the dormant flame arise, +Thus when the warrior grasps his bow +He feels his breast with ardour glow. +Deep in a holy grove, of yore, +Where bird and beast from strife forbore, +Suchi beneath the sheltering boughs, +A truthful hermit kept his vows. +Then Indra, Sachí's heavenly lord, +Armed like a warrior with a sword, +Came to his tranquil home to spoil +The hermit of his holy toil, +And left the glorious weapon there +Entrusted to the hermit's care, +A pledge for him to keep, whose mind +To fervent zeal was all resigned. +He took the brand: with utmost heed +He kept it for the warrior's need: +To keep his trust he fondly strove +When roaming in the neighbouring grove: +Whene'er for roots and fruit he strayed +Still by his side he bore the blade: +Still on his sacred charge intent, +He took his treasure when he went. +As day by day that brand he wore, +The hermit, rich in merit's store +From penance rites each thought withdrew, +And fierce and wild his spirit grew. +With heedless soul he spurned the right, +And found in cruel deeds delight. +So, living with the sword, he fell, +A ruined hermit, down to hell. +This tale applies to those who deal +Too closely with the warrior's steel: +The steel to warriors is the same +As fuel to the smouldering flame. +Sincere affection prompts my speech: +I honour where I fain would teach. +Mayst thou, thus armed with shaft and bow, +So dire a longing never know +As, when no hatred prompts the fray, +These giants of the wood to slay: +For he who kills without offence +Shall win but little glory thence. +The bow the warrior joys to bend +Is lent him for a nobler end, +That he may save and succour those +Who watch in woods when pressed by foes. +What, matched with woods, is bow or steel? +What, warrior's arm with hermit's zeal? +We with such might have naught to do: +The forest rule should guide us too. +But when Ayodhyá hails thee lord, +Be then thy warrior life restored: +So shall thy sire(423) and mother joy +In bliss that naught may e'er destroy. +And if, resigning empire, thou +Submit thee to the hermit's vow, +The noblest gain from virtue springs, +And virtue joy unending brings. +All earthly blessings virtue sends: +On virtue all the world depends. +Those who with vow and fasting tame +To due restraint the mind and frame, +Win by their labour, nobly wise, +The highest virtue for their prize. +Pure in the hermit's grove remain, +True to thy duty, free from stain. +But the three worlds are open thrown +To thee, by whom all things are known. +Who gave me power that I should dare +His duty to my lord declare? +'Tis woman's fancy, light as air, + That moves my foolish breast. +Now with thy brother counsel take, +Reflect, thy choice with judgment make, + And do what seems the best." + + + + +Canto X. Ráma's Reply. + + +The words that Sítá uttered, spurred +By truest love, the hero heard: +Then he who ne'er from virtue strayed +To Janak's child his answer made: +"In thy wise speech, sweet love, I find +True impress of thy gentle mind, +Well skilled the warrior's path to trace, +Thou pride of Janak's ancient race. +What fitting answer shall I frame +To thy good words, my honoured dame? +Thou sayst the warrior bears the bow +That misery's tears may cease to flow; +And those pure saints who love the shade +Of Dandak wood are sore dismayed. +They sought me of their own accord, +With suppliant prayers my aid implored: +They, fed on roots and fruit, who spend +Their lives where bosky wilds extend, +My timid love, enjoy no rest +By these malignant fiends distressed. +These make the flesh of man their meat: +The helpless saints they kill and eat. +The hermits sought my side, the chief +Of Bráhman race declared their grief. +I heard, and from my lips there fell +The words which thou rememberest well: +I listened as the hermits cried, +And to their prayers I thus replied: + + "Your favour, gracious lords, I claim, +O'erwhelmed with this enormous shame +That Bráhmans, great and pure as you, +Who should be sought, to me should sue." +And then before the saintly crowd, +"What can I do?" I cried aloud. +Then from the trembling hermits broke +One long sad cry, and thus they spoke: +"Fiends of the wood, who wear at will +Each varied shape, afflict us still. +To thee in our distress we fly: +O help us, Ráma, or we die. +When sacred rites of fire are due, +When changing moons are full or new, +These fiends who bleeding flesh devour +Assail us with resistless power. +They with their cruel might torment +The hermits on their vows intent: +We look around for help and see +Our surest refuge, Prince, in thee. +We, armed with powers of penance, might +Destroy the rovers of the night: +But loth were we to bring to naught +The merit years of toil have bought. +Our penance rites are grown too hard, +By many a check and trouble barred, +But though our saints for food are slain +The withering curse we yet restrain. +Thus many a weary day distressed +By giants who this wood infest, +We see at length deliverance, thou +With Lakshman art our guardian now." + + As thus the troubled hermits prayed, +I promised, dame, my ready aid, +And now--for truth I hold most dear-- +Still to my word must I adhere. +My love, I might endure to be +Deprived of Lakshman, life, and thee, +But ne'er deny my promise, ne'er +To Bráhmans break the oath I sware. +I must, enforced by high constraint, +Protect them all. Each suffering saint +In me, unasked, his help had found; +Still more in one by promise bound. +I know thy words, mine own dear dame, +From thy sweet heart's affection came: +I thank thee for thy gentle speech, +For those we love are those we teach. +'Tis like thyself, O fair of face, +'Tis worthy of thy noble race: +Dearer than life, thy feet are set +In righteous paths they ne'er forget." + + Thus to the Maithil monarch's child, +His own dear wife, in accents mild + The high-souled hero said: +Then to the holy groves which lay +Beyond them fair to see, their way + The bow-armed chieftain led. + + + + +Canto XI. Agastya. + + +Ráma went foremost of the three, +Next Sítá, followed, fair to see, +And Lakshman with his bow in hand +Walked hindmost of the little band. +As onward through the wood they went, +With great delight their eyes were bent +On rocky heights beside the way +And lofty trees with blossoms gay; +And streamlets running fair and fast +The royal youths with Sítá passed. +They watched the sáras and the drake +On islets of the stream and lake, +And gazed delighted on the floods +Bright with gay birds and lotus buds. +They saw in startled herds the roes, +The passion-frenzied buffaloes, +Wild elephants who fiercely tore +The tender trees, and many a boar. +A length of woodland way they passed, +And when the sun was low at last +A lovely stream-fed lake they spied, +Two leagues across from side to side. +Tall elephants fresh beauty gave +To grassy bank and lilied wave, +By many a swan and sáras stirred, +Mallard, and gay-winged water-bird. +From those sweet waters, loud and long, +Though none was seen to wake the song, +Swelled high the singer's music blent +With each melodious instrument. +Ráma and car-borne Lakshman heard +The charming strain, with wonder stirred, +Turned on the margent of the lake +To Dharmabhrit(424) the sage, and spake: + + "Our longing souls, O hermit, burn +This music of the lake to learn: +We pray thee, noblest sage, explain +The cause of the mysterious strain." +He, as the son of Raghu prayed, +With swift accord his answer made, +And thus the hermit, virtuous-souled, +The story of the fair lake told: + + "Through every age 'tis known to fame, +Panchápsaras(425) its glorious name, +By holy Mándakarni wrought +With power his rites austere had bought. +For he, great votarist, intent +On strictest rule his stern life spent. +Ten thousand years the stream his bed, +Ten thousand years on air he fed. +Then on the blessed Gods who dwell +In heavenly homes great terror fell: +They gathered all, by Agni led, +And counselled thus disquieted: +"The hermit by ascetic pain +The seat of one of us would gain." +Thus with their hearts by fear oppressed +In full assembly spoke the Blest, +And bade five loveliest nymphs, as fair +As lightning in the evening air, +Armed with their winning wiles, seduce +From his stern vows the great recluse. +Though lore of earth and heaven he knew, +The hermit from his task they drew, +And made the great ascetic slave +To conquering love, the Gods to save. +Each of the heavenly five became, +Bound to the sage, his wedded dame; +And he, for his beloved's sake, +Formed a fair palace neath the lake. +Under the flood the ladies live, +To joy and ease their days they give, +And lap in bliss the hermit wooed +From penance rites to youth renewed. +So when the sportive nymphs within +Those secret bowers their play begin, +You hear the singers' dulcet tones +Blend sweetly with their tinkling zones." + + "How wondrous are these words of thine!" +Cried the famed chiefs of Raghu's line, +As thus they heard the sage unfold +The marvels of the tale he told. + + As Ráma spake, his eyes were bent +Upon a hermit settlement +With light of heavenly lore endued, +With sacred grass and vesture strewed. +His wife and brother by his side, +Within the holy bounds he hied, +And there, with honour entertained +By all the saints, a while remained. +In time, by due succession led, +Each votary's cot he visited, +And then the lord of martial lore, +Returned where he had lodged before. +Here for the months, content, he stayed, +There for a year his visit paid: +Here for four months his home would fix, +There, as it chanced, for five or six. +Here for eight months and there for three +The son of Raghu's stay would be: +Here weeks, there fortnights, more or less, +He spent in tranquil happiness. +As there the hero dwelt at ease +Among those holy devotees, +In days untroubled o'er his head +Ten circling years of pleasure fled. +So Raghu's son in duty trained +A while in every cot remained, +Then with his dame retraced the road +To good Sutíkshna's calm abode. +Hailed by the saints with honours due +Near to the hermit's home he drew, +And there the tamer of his foes +Dwelt for a time in sweet repose. +One day within that holy wood +By saint Sutíkshna Ráma stood, +And thus the prince with reverence meek +To that high sage began to speak: + + "In the wide woodlands that extend +Around us, lord most reverend, +As frequent voice of rumour tells, +Agastya, saintliest hermit, dwells. +So vast the wood, I cannot trace +The path to reach his dwelling place, +Nor, searching unassisted, find +That hermit of the thoughtful mind. +I with my wife and brother fain +Would go, his favour to obtain, +Would seek him in his lone retreat +And the great saint with reverence greet. +This one desire, O Master, long +Cherished within my heart, is strong, +That I may pay of free accord +My duty to that hermit lord." + + As thus the prince whose heart was bent +On virtue told his firm intent, +The good Sutíkshna's joy rose high, +And thus in turn he made reply: +"The very thing, O Prince, which thou +Hast sought, I wished to urge but now, +Bid thee with wife and brother see +Agastya, glorious devotee. +I count this thing an omen fair +That thou shouldst thus thy wish declare, +And I, my Prince, will gladly teach +The way Agastya's home to reach. +Southward, dear son, direct thy feet +Eight leagues beyond this still retreat: +Agastya's hermit brother there +Dwells in a home most bright and fair. +'Tis on a knoll of woody ground, +With many a branching Pippal(426) crowned: +There sweet birds' voices ne'er are mute, +And trees are gay with flower and fruit. +There many a lake gleams bright and cool, +And lilies deck each pleasant pool, +While swan, and crane, and mallard's wings +Are lovely in the water-springs. +There for one night, O Ráma, stay, +And with the dawn pursue thy way. +Still farther, bending southward, by +The thicket's edge the course must lie, +And thou wilt see, two leagues from thence +Agastya's lovely residence, +Set in the woodland's fairest spot, +All varied foliage decks the cot: +There Sítá, Lakshman thou, at ease +May spend sweet hours neath shady trees, +For all of noblest growth are found +Luxuriant on that bosky ground. +If it be still thy firm intent +To see that saint preëminent, +O mighty counsellor, this day +Depart upon thine onward way." + + The hermit spake, and Ráma bent +His head, with Lakshman, reverent, +And then with him and Janak's child +Set out to trace the forest wild. +He saw dark woods that fringed the road, +And distant hills like clouds that showed, +And, as the way he followed, met +With many a lake and rivulet. +So passing on with ease where led +The path Sutíkshna bade him tread, +The hero with exulting breast +His brother in these words addressed: + + "Here, surely, is the home, in sight, +Of that illustrious anchorite: +Here great Agastya's brother leads +A life intent on holy deeds. +Warned of each guiding mark and sign, +I see them all herein combine: +I see the branches bending low +Beneath the flowers and fruit they show. +A soft air from the forest springs, +Fresh from the odorous grass, and brings +A spicy fragrance as it flees +O'er the ripe fruit of Pippal trees. +See, here and there around us high +Piled up in heaps cleft billets lie, +And holy grass is gathered, bright +As strips of shining lazulite. +Full in the centre of the shade +The hermits' holy fire is laid: +I see its smoke the pure heaven streak +Dense as a big cloud's dusky peak. +The twice-born men their steps retrace +From each sequestered bathing-place, +And each his sacred gift has brought +Of blossoms which his hands have sought. +Of all these signs, dear brother, each +Agrees with good Sutíkshna's speech, +And doubtless in this holy bound +Agastya's brother will be found. +Agastya once, the worlds who viewed +With love, a Deathlike fiend subdued, +And armed with mighty power, obtained +By holy works, this grove ordained +To be a refuge and defence +From all oppressors' violence. +In days of yore within this place +Two brothers fierce of demon race, +Vátápi dire and Ilval, dwelt, +And slaughter mid the Bráhmans dealt. +A Bráhman's form, the fiend to cloak, +Fierce Ilval wore, and Sanskrit spoke, +And twice-born sages would invite +To solemnize some funeral rite. +His brother's flesh, concealed within +A ram's false shape and borrowed skin,-- +As men are wont at funeral feasts,-- +He dressed and fed those gathered priests. +The holy men, unweeting ill, +Took of the food and ate their fill. +Then Ilval with a mighty shout +Exclaimed "Vátápi, issue out." +Soon as his brother's voice he heard, +The fiend with ram-like bleating stirred: +Rending in pieces every frame, +Forth from the dying priests he came. +So they who changed their forms at will +Thousands of Bráhmans dared to kill,-- +Fierce fiends who loved each cruel deed, +And joyed on bleeding flesh to feed. +Agastya, mighty hermit, pressed +To funeral banquet like the rest, +Obedient to the Gods' appeal +Ate up the monster at a meal. +"'Tis done, 'tis done," fierce Ilval cried, +And water for his hands supplied: +Then lifting up his voice he spake: +"Forth, brother, from thy prison break." +Then him who called the fiend, who long +Had wrought the suffering Bráhmans wrong, +Thus thoughtful-souled Agastya, best +Of hermits, with a smile addressed: +"How, Rákshas, is the fiend empowered +To issue forth whom I devoured? +Thy brother in a ram's disguise +Is gone where Yáma's kingdom lies." +When from the words Agastya said +He knew his brother fiend was dead, +His soul on fire with vengeful rage, +Rushed the night-rover at the sage. +One lightning glance of fury, hot +As fire, the glorious hermit shot, +As the fiend neared him in his stride, +And straight, consumed to dust, he died. +In pity for the Bráhmans' plight +Agastya wrought this deed of might: +This grove which lakes and fair trees grace +In his great brother's dwelling place." + + As Ráma thus the tale rehearsed, +And with Sumitrá's son conversed, +The setting sun his last rays shed, +And evening o'er the land was spread. +A while the princely brothers stayed +And even rites in order paid, +Then to the holy grove they drew +And hailed the saint with honour due. +With courtesy was Ráma met +By that illustrious anchoret, +And for one night he rested there +Regaled with fruit and hermit fare. +But when the night had reached its close, +And the sun's glorious circle rose, +The son of Raghu left his bed +And to the hermit's brother said: +"Well rested in thy hermit cell, +I stand, O saint, to bid farewell; +For with thy leave I journey hence +Thy brother saint to reverence." +"Go, Ráma go," the sage replied: +Then from the cot the chieftain hied. +And while the pleasant grove he viewed, +The path the hermit showed, pursued. +Of every leaf, of changing hue. +Plants, trees by hundreds round him grew, +With joyous eyes he looked on all, +Then Jak,(427) the wild rice, and Sál;(428) +He saw the red Hibiscus glow, +He saw the flower-tipped creeper throw +The glory of her clusters o'er +Tall trees that loads of blossom bore. +Some, elephants had prostrate laid, +In some the monkeys leapt and played, +And through the whole wide forest rang +The charm of gay birds as they sang. +Then Ráma of the lotus eye +To Lakshman turned who followed nigh, +And thus the hero youth impressed +With Fortune's favouring signs, addressed: + + "How soft the leaves of every tree, +How tame each bird and beast we see! +Soon the fair home shall we behold +Of that great hermit tranquil-souled. +The deed the good Agastya wrought +High fame throughout the world has bought: +I see, I see his calm retreat +That balms the pain of weary feet. +Where white clouds rise from flames beneath, +Where bark-coats lie with many a wreath, +Where silvan things, made gentle, throng, +And every bird is loud in song. +With ruth for suffering creatures filled, +A deathlike fiend with might he killed, +And gave this southern realm to be +A refuge, from oppression free. +There stands his home, whose dreaded might +Has put the giant crew to flight, +Who view with envious eyes afar +The peaceful shades they cannot mar. +Since that most holy saint has made +His dwelling in this lovely shade, +Checked by his might the giant brood +Have dwelt in peace with souls subdued. +And all this southern realm, within +Whose bounds no fiend may entrance win, +Now bears a name which naught may dim, +Made glorious through the worlds by him. +When Vindhya, best of hills, would stay +The journey of the Lord of Day, +Obedient to the saint's behest +He bowed for aye his humbled crest. +That hoary hermit, world-renowned +For holy deeds, within this ground +Has set his pure and blessed home, +Where gentle silvan creatures roam. +Agastya, whom the worlds revere, +Pure saint to whom the good are dear, +To us his guests all grace will show, +Enriched with blessings ere we go. +I to this aim each thought will turn, +The favour of the saint to earn, +That here in comfort may be spent +The last years of our banishment. +Here sanctities and high saints stand, +Gods, minstrels of the heavenly band; +Upon Agastya's will they wait, +And serve him, pure and temperate. +The liar's tongue, the tyrant's mind +Within these bounds no home may find: +No cheat, no sinner here can be: +So holy and so good is he. +Here birds and lords of serpent race, +Spirits and Gods who haunt the place, +Content with scanty fare remain, +As merit's meed they strive to gain. +Made perfect here, the saints supreme, +On cars that mock the Day-God's gleam,-- +Their mortal bodies cast aside,-- +Sought heaven transformed and glorified, +Here Gods to living things, who win +Their favour, pure from cruel sin, +Give royal rule and many a good, +Immortal life and spirithood. +Now, Lakshman, we are near the place: +Do thou precede a little space, +And tell the mighty saint that I +With Sítá at my side am nigh." + + + + +Canto XII. The Heavenly Bow. + + +He spoke: the younger prince obeyed: +Within the bounds his way he made, +And thus addressed, whom first he met, +A pupil of the anchoret: + + "Brave Ráma, eldest born, who springs, +From Dasaratha, hither brings +His wife the lady Sítá: he +Would fain the holy hermit see. +Lakshman am I--if happy fame +E'er to thine ears has brought the name-- +His younger brother, prompt to do +His will, devoted, fond, and true. +We, through our royal sire's decree, +To the dread woods were forced to flee. +Tell the great Master, I entreat, +Our earnest wish our lord to greet." + + He spoke: the hermit rich in store +Of fervid zeal and sacred lore, +Sought the pure shrine which held the fire, +To bear his message to the sire. +Soon as he reached the saint most bright +In sanctity's surpassing might, +He cried, uplifting reverent hands: +"Lord Ráma near thy cottage stands." +Then spoke Agastya's pupil dear +The message for his lord to hear: +"Ráma and Lakshman, chiefs who spring +From Dasaratha, glorious king, +Thy hermitage e'en now have sought, +And lady Sítá with them brought. +The tamers of the foe are here +To see thee, Master, and revere. +'Tis thine thy further will to say: +Deign to command, and we obey." + + When from his pupil's lips he knew +The presence of the princely two, +And Sítá born to fortune high. +The glorious hermit made reply: +"Great joy at last is mine this day +That Ráma hither finds his way, +For long my soul has yearned to see +The prince who comes to visit me. +Go forth, go forth, and hither bring +The royal three with welcoming: +Lead Ráma in and place him near: +Why stands he not already here?" + + Thus ordered by the hermit, who, +Lord of his thought, all duty knew, +His reverent hands together laid, +The pupil answered and obeyed. +Forth from the place with speed he ran, +To Lakshman came and thus began: +"Where is he? let not Ráma wait, +But speed, the sage to venerate." + + Then with the pupil Lakshman went +Across the hermit settlement, +And showed him Ráma where he stood +With Janak's daughter in the wood. +The pupil then his message spake +Which the kind hermit bade him take; +Then led the honoured Ráma thence +And brought him in with reverence. +As nigh the royal Ráma came +With Lakshman and the Maithil dame, +He viewed the herds of gentle deer +Roaming the garden free from fear. +As through the sacred grove he trod +He viewed the seat of many a God, +Brahmá and Agni,(429) Sun and Moon, +And His who sends each golden boon;(430) +Here Vishnu's stood, there Bhaga's(431) shrine, +And there Mahendra's, Lord divine; +Here His who formed this earthly frame,(432) +His there from whom all beings came.(433) +Váyu's,(434) and His who loves to hold +The great noose, Varun(435) mighty-souled: +Here was the Vasus'(436) shrine to see, +Here that of sacred Gáyatrí,(437) +The king of serpents(438) here had place, +And he who rules the feathered race.(439) +Here Kártikeya,(440) warrior lord, +And there was Justice King adored. +Then with disciples girt about +The mighty saint himself came out: +Through fierce devotion bright as flame +Before the rest the Master came: +And then to Lakshman, fortune blest, +Ráma these hasty words addressed: +"Behold, Agastya's self draws near, +The mighty saint, whom all revere: +With spirit raised I meet my lord +With richest wealth of penance stored." + + The strong-armed hero spake, and ran +Forward to meet the sunbright man. +Before him, as he came, he bent +And clasped his feet most reverent, +Then rearing up his stately height +Stood suppliant by the anchorite, +While Lakshman's strength and Sítá's grace +Stood by the pride of Raghu's race. +The sage his arms round Ráma threw +And welcomed him with honours due, +Asked, was all well, with question sweet, +And bade the hero to a seat. +With holy oil he fed the flame, +He brought the gifts which strangers claim, +And kindly waiting on the three +With honours due to high degree, +He gave with hospitable care +A simple hermit's woodland fare. +Then sat the reverend father, first +Of hermits, deep in duty versed. +And thus to suppliant Ráma, bred +In all the lore of virtue, said: +"Did the false hermit, Prince, neglect +To hail his guest with due respect, +He must,--the doom the perjured meet,-- +His proper flesh hereafter eat. +A car-borne king, a lord who sways +The earth, and virtue's law obeys, +Worthy of highest honour, thou +Hast sought, dear guest, my cottage now." +He spoke: with fruit and hermit fare, +With every bloom the branches bare, +Agastya graced his honoured guest, +And thus with gentle words addressed: +"Accept this mighty bow, divine, +Whereon red gold and diamonds shine; +'Twas by the Heavenly Artist planned +For Vishnu's own almighty hand; +This God-sent shaft of sunbright hue, +Whose deadly flight is ever true, +By Lord Mahendra given of yore: +This quiver with its endless store. +Keen arrows hurtling to their aim +Like kindled fires that flash and flame: +Accept, in golden sheath encased, +This sword with hilt of rich gold graced. +Armed with this best of bows +Lord Vishnu slew his demon foes, +And mid the dwellers in the skies +Won brilliant glory for his prize. +The bow, the quivers, shaft, and sword +Received from me, O glorious lord: +These conquest to thine arm shall bring, +As thunder to the thunder's King." + + The splendid hermit bade him take +The noble weapons as he spake, +And as the prince accepted each +In words like these renewed his speech: + + + + +Canto XIII. Agastya's Counsel. + + +"O Ráma, great delight I feel, +Pleased, Lakshman, with thy faithful zeal, +That you within these shades I see +With Sítá come to honour me. +But wandering through the rough rude wild +Has wearied Janak's gentle child: +With labours of the way oppressed +The Maithil lady longs for rest. +Young, delicate, and soft, and fair, +Such toils as these untrained to bear, +Her wifely love the dame has led +The forest's troubled ways to tread. +Here, Ráma, see that naught annoy +Her easy hours of tranquil joy: +A glorious task has she assayed, +To follow thee through woodland shade. +Since first from Nature's hand she came, +A woman's mood is still the same, +When Fortune smiles, her love to show, +And leave her lord in want and woe. +No pity then her heart can feel, +She arms her soul with warrior's steel, +Swift as the storm or Feathered King, +Uncertain as the lightning's wing. +Not so thy spouse: her purer mind +Shrinks from the faults of womankind; +Like chaste Arundhatí(441) above, +A paragon of faithful love. +Let these blest shades, dear Ráma, be +A home for Lakshman, her, and thee." + + With raised hands reverently meek +He heard the holy hermit speak, +And humbly thus addressed the sire +Whose glory shone like kindled fire: + + "How blest am I, what thanks I owe +That our great Master deigns to show +His favour, that his heart can be +Content with Lakshman, Sítá, me. +Show me, I pray, some spot of ground +Where thick trees wave and springs abound, +That I may raise my hermit cell +And there in tranquil pleasure dwell." + + Then thus replied Agastya, best +Of hermits, to the chief's request: +When for a little he had bent +His thoughts, upon that prayer intent: + + "Beloved son, four leagues away +Is Panchavatí bright and gay: +Thronged with its deer, most fair it looks +With berries, fruit, and water-brooks. +There build thee with thy brother's aid +A cottage in the quiet shade, +And faithful to thy sire's behest, +Obedient to the sentence, rest. +For well, O sinless chieftain, well +I know thy tale, how all befell: +Stern penance and the love I bore +Thy royal sire supply the lore. +To me long rites and fervid zeal +The wish that stirs thy heart reveal, +And hence my guest I bade thee be, +That this pure grove might shelter thee. +So now, thereafter, thus I speak: +The shades of Panchavatí seek; +That tranquil spot is bright and fair, +And Sítá will be happy there. +Not far remote from here it lies, +A grove to charm thy loving eyes, +Godávarí's pure stream is nigh: +There Sítá's days will sweetly fly. +Pure, lovely, rich in many a charm, +O hero of the mighty arm, +'Tis gay with every plant and fruit, +And throngs of gay buds never mute. +Thou, true to virtue's path, hast might +To screen each trusting anchorite, +And wilt from thy new home defend +The hermits who on thee depend. +Now yonder, Prince, direct thine eyes +Where dense Madhúka(442) woods arise: +Pierce their dark shade, and issuing forth +Turn to a fig-tree on the north: +Then onward up a sloping mead +Flanked by a hill the way will lead: +There Panchavatí, ever gay +With ceaseless bloom, thy steps will stay." + + The hermit ceased: the princely two +With seemly honours bade adieu: +With reverential awe each youth +Bowed to the saint whose word was truth, +And then, dismissed with Sítá, they +To Panchavatí took their way. +Thus when each royal prince had grasped +His warrior's mighty bow, and clasped + His quiver to his side, +With watchful eyes along the road +The glorious saint Agastya showed, +Dauntless in fight the brothers strode, + And Sítá with them hied. + + + + +Canto XIV. Jatáyus. + + +Then as the son of Raghu made +His way to Panchavatí's shade, +A mighty vulture he beheld +Of size and strength unparalleled. +The princes, when the bird they saw, +Approached with reverence and awe, +And as his giant form they eyed, +"Tell who thou art," in wonder cried. +The bird, as though their hearts to gain, +Addressed them thus in gentlest strain; +"In me, dear sons, the friend behold +Your royal father loved of old." + + He spoke: nor long did Ráma wait +His sire's dear friend to venerate: +He bade the bird declare his name +And the high race of which he came. +When Raghu's son had spoken, he +Declared his name and pedigree, +His words prolonging to disclose +How all the things that be arose: + + "List while I tell, O Raghu's son, +The first-born Fathers, one by one, +Great Lords of Life, whence all in earth +And all in heaven derive their birth. +First Kardam heads the glorious race +Where Vikrit holds the second place, +With Sesha, Sansray next in line, +And Bahuputra's might divine. +Then Sthánu and Maríchi came, +Atri, and Kratu's forceful frame. +Pulastya followed, next to him +Angiras' name shall ne'er be dim. +Prachetas, Pulah next, and then +Daksha, Vivasvat praised of men: +Aríshtanemi next, and last +Kasyap in glory unsurpassed. +From Daksha,--fame the tale has told--: +Three-score bright daughters sprang of old. +Of these fair-waisted nymphs the great +Lord Kasyap sought and wedded eight, +Aditi, Diti, Kálaká, +Támrá, Danú, and Analá, +And Krodhavasá swift to ire, +And Manu(443) glorious as her sire. +Then when the mighty Kasyap cried +Delighted to each tender bride: +"Sons shalt thou bear, to rule the three +Great worlds, in might resembling me." +Aditi, Diti, and Danú +Obeyed his will as consorts true, +And Kálaká; but all the rest +Refused to hear their lord's behest. +First Aditi conceived, and she, +Mother of thirty Gods and three, +The Vasus and Ádityas bare, +Rudras, and Asvins, heavenly pair. +Of Diti sprang the Daityas: fame +Delights to laud their ancient name. +In days of yore their empire dread +O'er earth and woods and ocean spread. +Danú was mother of a child, +O hero, Asvagríva styled, +And Narak next and Kálak came +Of Kálaká, celestial dame. +Of Támrá, too, five daughters bright +In deathless glory sprang to light. +Ennobling fame still keeps alive +The titles of the lovely five: +Immortal honour still she claims +For Kraunchí, Bhasí, Syení's names. +And wills not that the world forget +Sukí or Dhritaráshtrí yet. +Then Kraunchí bare the crane and owl, +And Bhásí tribes of water fowl: +Vultures and hawks that race through air +With storm-fleet pinions Syení bare. +All swans and geese on mere and brook +Their birth from Dhritaráshtrí took, +And all the river-haunting brood +Of ducks, a countless multitude. +From Sukí Nalá sprang, who bare +Dame Vinatá surpassing fair. +From fiery Krodhavasá, ten +Bright daughters sprang, O King of men: +Mrigí and Mrigamandá named, +Hari and Bhadramadá famed, +Sárdúlí, Svetá fair to see, +Mátangí bright, and Surabhí, +Surasá marked with each fair sign, +And Kadrumá, all maids divine. +Mrigí, O Prince without a peer, +Was mother of the herds of deer, +The bear, the yak, the mountain roe +Their birth to Mrigamandá owe; +And Bhadramadá joyed to be +Mother of fair Irávatí, +Who bare Airávat,(444) huge of mould, +Mid warders of the earth enrolled, +From Harí lordly lions trace, +With monkeys of the wild, their race. +From the great dame Sárdúlí styled +Sprung pards, Lángúrs,(445) and tigers wild. +Mátangí, Prince, gave birth to all +Mátangas, elephants strong and tall, +And Svetá bore the beasts who stand +One at each wind, earth's warder band.(446) +Next Surabhí the Goddess bore +Two heavenly maids, O Prince, of yore, +Gandharví--dear to fame is she-- +And her sweet sister Rohiní. +With kine this daughter filled each mead, +And bright Gandharví bore the steed.(447) +Surasá bore the serpents:(448) all +The snakes Kadrú their mother call. +Then Manu, high-souled Kasyap's(449) wife, +To all the race of men gave life, +The Bráhmans first, the Kshatriya caste, +Then Vaisyas, and the Súdras last. +Sprang from her mouth the Bráhman race; +Her chest the Kshatriyas' natal place: +The Vaisyas from her thighs, 'tis said, +The Súdras from her feet were bred. +From Analá all trees that hang +Their fair fruit-laden branches sprang. +The child of beauteous Sukí bore +Vinatá, as I taught before: +And Surasá and Kadrú were +Born of one dame, a noble pair. +Kadrú gave birth to countless snakes +That roam the earth in woods and brakes. +Arun and Garud swift of flight +By Vinatá were given to light, +And sons of Arun red as morn +Sampati first, then I was born, +Me then, O tamer of the foe, +Jatáyus, son of Syení, know. +Thy ready helper will I be, +And guard thy house, if thou agree: +When thou and Lakshman urge the chase +By Sítá's side shall be my place." +With courteous thanks for promised aid, + The prince, to rapture stirred, +Bent low, and due obeisance paid, + Embraced the royal bird. +He often in the days gone by + Had heard his father tell +How, linked with him in friendship's tie, + He loved Jatáyus well. +He hastened to his trusted friend + His darling to confide, +And through the wood his steps to bend + By strong Jatáyus' side. +On to the grove, with Lakshman near, + The prince his way pursued +To free those pleasant shades from fear + And slay the giant brood. + + + + +Canto XV. Panchavatí. + + +Arrived at Panchavatí's shade +Where silvan life and serpents strayed, +Ráma in words like these addressed +Lakshman of vigour unrepressed: + + "Brother, our home is here: behold +The grove of which the hermit told: +The bowers of Panchavatí see +Made fair by every blooming tree. +Now, brother, bend thine eyes around; +With skilful glance survey the ground: +Here be some spot selected, best +Approved for gentle hermits' rest, +Where thou, the Maithil dame, and I +May dwell while seasons sweetly fly. +Some pleasant spot be chosen where +Pure waters gleam and trees are fair, +Some nook where flowers and wood are found +And sacred grass and springs abound." + + Then Lakshman, Sítá standing by, +Raised reverent hands, and made reply: + + "A hundred years shall flee, and still +Will I obey my brother's will: +Select thyself a pleasant spot; +Be mine the care to rear the cot." +The glorious chieftain, pleased to hear +That loving speech that soothed his ear, +Selected with observant care +A spot with every charm most fair. +He stood within that calm retreat, +A shade for hermits' home most meet, +And thus Sumitrá's son addressed, +While his dear hand in his he pressed: + + "See, see this smooth and lovely glade +Which flowery trees encircling shade: +Do thou, beloved Lakshman rear +A pleasant cot to lodge us here. +I see beyond that feathery brake +The gleaming of a lilied lake, +Where flowers in sunlike glory throw +Fresh odours from the wave below. +Agastya's words now find we true, +He told the charms which here we view: +Here are the trees that blossom o'er +Godávarí's most lovely shore. +Whose pleasant flood from side to side +With swans and geese is beautified, +And fair banks crowded with the deer +That steal from every covert near. +The peacock's cry is loud and shrill +From many a tall and lovely hill, +Green-belted by the trees that wave +Full blossoms o'er the rock and cave. +Like elephants whose huge fronts glow +With painted streaks, the mountains show +Long lines of gold and silver sheen +With copper's darker hues between. +With every tree each hill is graced, +Where creepers blossom interlaced. +Look where the Sál's long branches sway, +And palms their fanlike leaves display; +The date-tree and the Jak are near, +And their long stems Tamálas rear. +See the tall Mango lift his head, +Asokas all their glory spread, +The Ketak her sweet buds unfold, +And Champacs hang their cups of gold.(450) +The spot is pure and pleasant: here +Are multitudes of birds and deer. +O Lakshman, with our father's friend +What happy hours we here shall spend!" + + He spoke: the conquering Lakshman heard, +Obedient to his brother's word. +Raised by his toil a cottage stood +To shelter Ráma in the wood, +Of ample size, with leaves o'erlaid, +Of hardened earth the walls were made. +The strong bamboos his hands had felled +For pillars fair the roof upheld, +And rafter, beam, and lath supplied +Well interwrought from side to side. +Then Samí(451) boughs he deftly spread +Enlaced with knotted cord o'erhead, +Well thatched above from ridge to eaves +With holy grass, and reed, and leaves. +The mighty chief with careful toil +Had cleared the ground and smoothed the soil +Where now, his loving labour done, +Rose a fair home for Raghu's son. +Then when his work was duly wrought, +Godávarís sweet stream he sought, +Bathed, plucked the lilies, and a store +Of fruit and berries homeward bore. +Then sacrifice he duly paid, +And wooed the Gods their hopes to aid, +And then to Ráma proudly showed +The cot prepared for his abode. +Then Raghu's son with Sítá gazed +Upon the home his hands had raised, +And transport thrilled his bosom through +His leafy hermitage to view. +The glorious son of Raghu round +His brother's neck his arms enwound, +And thus began his sweet address +Of deep-felt joy and gentleness: +"Well pleased am I, dear lord, to see +This noble work performed by thee. +For this,--sole grace I can bestow,-- +About thy neck mine arms I throw. +So wise art thou, thy breast is filled +With grateful thoughts, in duty skilled, +Our mighty father, free from stain, +In thee, his offspring, lives again." + + Thus spoke the prince, who lent a grace +To fortune, pride of Raghu's race; +Then in that spot whose pleasant shade +Gave store of fruit, content he stayed. +With Lakshman and his Maithil spouse +He spent his day's neath sheltering boughs, +As happy as a God on high +Lives in his mansion in the sky. + + + + +Canto XVI. Winter. + + +While there the high-souled hero spent +His tranquil hours in sweet content, +The glowing autumn passed, and then +Came winter so beloved of men. + + One morn, to bathe, at break of day +To the fair stream he took his way. +Behind him, with the Maithil dame +Bearing a pitcher Lakshman came, +And as he went the mighty man +Thus to his brother chief began: + + "The time is come, to thee more dear +Than all the months that mark the year: +The gracious seasons' joy and pride, +By which the rest are glorified. +A robe of hoary rime is spread +O'er earth, with corn engarlanded. +The streams we loved no longer please, +But near the fire we take our ease. +Now pious men to God and shade +Offer young corn's fresh sprouted blade, +And purge away their sins with rice +Bestowed in humble sacrifice. +Rich stores of milk delight the swain, +And hearts are cheered that longed for gain, +Proud kings whose breasts for conquests glow +Lead bannered troops to smite the foe. +Dark is the north: the Lord of Day +To Yáma's south(452) has turned away: +And she--sad widow--shines no more, +Reft of the bridal mark(453) she wore. +Himálaya's hill, ordained of old +The treasure-house of frost and cold, +Scarce conscious of the feebler glow, +Is truly now the Lord of Snow. +Warmed by the noontide's genial rays +Delightful are the glorious days: +But how we shudder at the chill +Of evening shadows and the rill! +How weak the sun, how cold the breeze! +How white the rime on grass and trees! +The leaves are sere, the woods have lost +Their blossoms killed by nipping frost. +Neath open skies we sleep no more: +December's nights with rime are hoar: +Their triple watch(454) in length extends +With hours the shortened daylight lends. +No more the moon's sun-borrowed rays +Are bright, involved in misty haze, +As when upon the mirror's sheen +The breath's obscuring cloud is seen. +E'en at the full the faint beams fail +To struggle through the darksome veil: +Changed like her hue, they want the grace +That parts not yet from Sítá's face. +Cold is the western wind, but how +Its piercing chill is heightened now, +Blowing at early morning twice +As furious with its breath of ice! +See how the dewy tears they weep +The barley, wheat, and woodland steep, +Where, as the sun goes up the sky, +The curlew and the sáras cry. +See where the rice plants scarce uphold +Their full ears tinged with paly gold, +Bending their ripe heads slowly down +Fair as the date tree's flowery crown. +Though now the sun has mounted high +Seeking the forehead of the sky, +Such mist obscures his struggling beams, +No bigger than the moon he seems. +Though weak at first, his rays at length +Grow pleasant in their noonday strength, +And where a while they chance to fall +Fling a faint splendour over all. +See, o'er the woods where grass is wet +With hoary drops that cling there yet, +With soft light clothing earth and bough +There steals a tender glory now. +Yon elephant who longs to drink, +Still standing on the river's brink, +Plucks back his trunk in shivering haste +From the cold wave he fain would taste. +The very fowl that haunt the mere +Stand doubtful on the bank, and fear +To dip them in the wintry wave +As cowards dread to meet the brave. +The frost of night, the rime of dawn +Bind flowerless trees and glades of lawn: +Benumbed in apathetic chill +Of icy chains they slumber still. +You hear the hidden sáras cry +From floods that wrapped in vapour lie, +And frosty-shining sands reveal +Where the unnoticed rivers steal. +The hoary rime of dewy night, +And suns that glow with tempered light +Lend fresh cool flavours to the rill +That sparkles from the topmost hill. +The cold has killed the lily's pride: +Leaf, filament, and flower have died: +With chilling breath rude winds have blown, +The withered stalk is left alone. +At this gay time, O noblest chief, +The faithful Bharat, worn by grief, +Lives in the royal town where he +Spends weary hours for love of thee. +From titles, honour, kingly sway, +From every joy he turns away: +Couched on cold earth, his days are passed +With scanty fare and hermit's fast. +This moment from his humble bed +He lifts, perhaps, his weary head, +And girt by many a follower goes +To bathe where silver Sarjú flows. +How, when the frosty morn is dim, +Shall Sarjú be a bath for him +Nursed with all love and tender care, +So delicate and young and fair. +How bright his hue! his brilliant eye +With the broad lotus leaf may vie. +By fortune stamped for happy fate, +His graceful form is tall and straight. +In duty skilled, his words are truth: +He proudly rules each lust of youth. +Though his strong arm smites down the foe, +In gentle speech his accents flow. +Yet every joy has he resigned +And cleaves to thee with heart and mind. +Thus by the deeds that he has done +A name in heaven has Bharat won, +For in his life he follows yet +Thy steps, O banished anchoret. +Thus faithful Bharat, nobly wise, +The proverb of the world belies: +"No men, by mothers' guidance led, +The footsteps of their fathers tread." +How could Kaikeyí, blest to be +Spouse of the king our sire, and see +A son like virtuous Bharat, blot +Her glory with so foul a plot!" + + Thus in fraternal love he spoke, +And from his lips reproaches broke: +But Ráma grieved to hear him chide +The absent mother, and replied: + + "Cease, O beloved, cease to blame +Our royal father's second dame. +Still speak of Bharat first in place +Of old Ikshváku's princely race. +My heart, so firmly bent but now +To dwell in woods and keep my vow, +Half melting as I hear thee speak +Of Bharat's love, grows soft and weak, +With tender joy I bring to mind +His speeches ever sweet and kind. +That dear as Amrit took the sense +With most enchanting influence. +Ah, when shall I, no more to part, +Meet Bharat of the mighty heart? +When, O my brother, when shall we +The good and brave Satrughna see?" +Thus as he poured his fond lament +The son of Raghu onward went: +They reached the river, and the three +Bathed them in fair Godávarí. +Libations of the stream they paid +To every deity and shade, +With hymns of praise, the Sun on high +And sinless Gods to glorify. +Fresh from the purifying tide + Resplendent Ráma came, +With Lakshman ever by his side, + And the sweet Maithil dame. +So Rudra shines by worlds adored, + In glory undefiled, +When Nandi(455) stands beside his lord, + And King Himálaya's child.(456) + + + + +Canto XVII. Súrpanakhá. + + +The bathing and the prayer were o'er; +He turned him from the grassy shore, +And with his brother and his spouse +Sought his fair home beneath the boughs. +Sítá and Lakshman by his side, +On to his cot the hero hied, +And after rites at morning due +Within the leafy shade withdrew. +Then, honoured by the devotees, +As royal Ráma sat at ease, +With Sítá near him, o'er his head +A canopy of green boughs spread, +He shone as shines the Lord of Night +By Chitrá's(457) side, his dear delight. +With Lakshman there he sat and told +Sweet stories of the days of old, +And as the pleasant time he spent +With heart upon each tale intent, +A giantess, by fancy led, +Came wandering to his leafy shed. +Fierce Súrpanakhá,--her of yore +The Ten-necked tyrant's mother bore,-- +Saw Ráma with his noble mien +Bright as the Gods in heaven are seen; +Him from whose brow a glory gleamed, +Like lotus leaves his full eyes beamed: +Long-armed, of elephantine gait, +With hair close coiled in hermit plait: +In youthful vigour, nobly framed, +By glorious marks a king proclaimed: +Like some bright lotus lustrous-hued, +With young Kandarpa's(458) grace endued: +As there like Indra's self he shone, +She loved the youth she gazed upon. +She grim of eye and foul of face +Loved his sweet glance and forehead's grace: +She of unlovely figure, him +Of stately form and shapely limb: +She whose dim locks disordered hung, +Him whose bright hair on high brows clung: +She whose fierce accents counselled fear, +Him whose soft tones were sweet to hear: +She whose dire form with age was dried, +Him radiant in his youthful pride: +She whose false lips maintained the wrong, +Him in the words of virtue strong: +She cruel-hearted, stained with sin, +Him just in deed and pure within. +She, hideous fiend, a thing to hate, +Him formed each eye to captivate: +Fierce passion in her bosom woke, +And thus to Raghu's son she spoke: + + "With matted hair above thy brows, +With bow and shaft and this thy spouse, +How hast thou sought in hermit dress +The giant-haunted wilderness? +What dost thou here? The cause explain: +Why art thou come, and what to gain?" +As Súrpanakhá questioned so, +Ráma, the terror of the foe, +In answer to the monster's call, +With fearless candour told her all. +"King Dasaratha reigned of old, +Like Gods celestial brave and bold. +I am his eldest son and heir, +And Ráma is the name I bear. +This brother, Lakshman, younger born, +Most faithful love to me has sworn. +My wife, this princess, dear to fame, +Is Sitá the Videhan dame. +Obedient to my sire's behest +And by the queen my mother pressed, +To keep the law and merit win, +I sought this wood to harbour in. +But speak, for I of thee in turn +Thy name, and race, and sire would learn. +Thou art of giant race, I ween. +Changing at will thy form and mien. +Speak truly, and the cause declare +That bids thee to these shades repair." + + Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard, +And thus replied by passion spurred: +"Of giant race, what form soe'er +My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear. +Named Súrpanakhá here I stray, +And where I walk spread wild dismay. +King Rávan is my brother: fame +Has taught perchance his dreaded name, +Strong Kumbhakarna slumbering deep +In chains of never-ending sleep: +Vibhíshan of the duteous mind, +In needs unlike his giant kind: +Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold +Whose fame by every tongue is told: +Their might by mine is far surpassed; +But when, O best of men, I cast +These fond eyes on thy form, I see +My chosen love and lord in thee. +Endowed with wondrous might am I: +Where'er my fancy leads I fly. +The poor misshapen Sítá leave, +And me, thy worthier bride receive. +Look on my beauty, and prefer +A spouse more meet than one like her: +I'll eat that ill-formed woman there: +Thy brother too her fate shall share. +But come, beloved, thou shalt roam +With me through all our woodland home; +Each varied grove with me shalt seek, +And gaze upon each mountain peak." + + As thus she spoke, the monster gazed +With sparkling eyes where passion blazed: +Then he, in lore of language learned, +This answer eloquent returned: + + + + +Canto XVIII. The Mutilation. + + +On her ensnared in Káma's net +His eyes the royal Ráma set, +And thus, her passion to beguile, +Addressed her with a gentle smile: + + "I have a wife: behold her here, +My Sítá ever true and dear: +And one like thee will never brook +Upon a rival spouse to look. +But there my brother Lakshman stands: +Unchained is he by nuptial bands: +A youth heroic, loved of all, +Gracious and gallant, fair and tall. +With winning looks, most nobly bred, +Unmatched till now, he longs to wed. +Meet to enjoy thy youthful charms, +O take him to thy loving arms. +Enamoured on his bosom lie, +Fair damsel of the radiant eye, +As the warm sunlight loves to rest +Upon her darling Meru's breast." + + The hero spoke, the monster heard, +While passion still her bosom stirred. +Away from Ráma's side she broke, +And thus in turn to Lakshman spoke: +"Come, for thy bride take me who shine +In fairest grace that suits with thine. +Thou by my side from grove to grove +Of Dandak's wild in bliss shalt rove." + + Then Lakshman, skilled in soft address, +Wooed by the amorous giantess, +With art to turn her love aside, +To Súrpanakhá thus replied: + + "And can so high a dame agree +The slave-wife of a slave to be? +I, lotus-hued! in good and ill +Am bondsman to my brother's will. +Be thou, fair creature radiant-eyed, +My honoured brother's younger bride: +With faultless tint and dainty limb, +A happy wife, bring joy to him. +He from his spouse grown old and grey, +Deformed, untrue, will turn away, +Her withered charms will gladly leave, +And to his fair young darling cleave. +For who could be so fond and blind, +O loveliest of all female kind, +To love another dame and slight +Thy beauties rich in all delight?" + + Thus Lakshman praised in scornful jest +The long-toothed fiend with loathly breast, +Who fondly heard his speech, nor knew +His mocking words were aught but true. +Again inflamed with love she fled +To Ráma, in his leafy shed +Where Sítá rested by his side, +And to the mighty victor cried: + + "What, Ráma, canst thou blindly cling +To this old false misshapen thing? +Wilt thou refuse the charms of youth +For withered breast and grinning tooth! +Canst thou this wretched creature prize +And look on me with scornful eyes? +This aged crone this very hour +Before thy face will I devour: +Then joyous, from all rivals free. +Through Dandak will I stray with thee." + + She spoke, and with a glance of flame +Rushed on the fawn-eyed Maithil dame: +So would a horrid meteor mar +Fair Rohiní's soft beaming star. +But as the furious fiend drew near, +Like Death's dire noose which chills with fear, +The mighty chief her purpose stayed, +And spoke, his brother to upbraid: +"Ne'er should we jest with creatures rude, +Of savage race and wrathful mood. +Think, Lakshman, think how nearly slain +My dear Videhan breathes again. +Let not the hideous wretch escape +Without a mark to mar her shape. +Strike, lord of men, the monstrous fiend, +Deformed, and foul, and evil-miened." + + He spoke: then Lakshman's wrath rose high, +And there before his brother's eye, +He drew that sword which none could stay, +And cleft her nose and ears away. +Noseless and earless, torn and maimed, +With fearful shrieks the fiend exclaimed, +And frantic in her wild distress +Resought the distant wilderness. +Deformed, terrific, huge, and dread, +As on she moved, her gashes bled, +And groan succeeded groan as loud +As roars, ere rain, the thunder cloud. +Still on the fearful monster passed, +While streams of blood kept falling fast, +And with a roar, and arms outspread +Within the boundless wood she fled. +To Janasthán the monster flew; + Fierce Khara there she found, +With chieftains of the giant crew + In thousands ranged around. +Before his awful feet she bent + And fell with piercing cries, +As when a bolt in swift descent + Comes flashing from the skies. +There for a while with senses dazed + Silent she lay and scared: +At length her drooping head she raised, + And all the tale declared, +How Ráma, Lakshman, and the dame + Had reached that lonely place: +Then told her injuries and shame, + And showed her bleeding face. + + + + +Canto XIX. The Rousing Of Khara. + + +When Khara saw his sister lie +With blood-stained limbs and troubled eye, +Wild fury in his bosom woke, +And thus the monstrous giant spoke; + + "Arise, my sister; cast away +This numbing terror and dismay, +And straight the impious hand declare +That marred those features once so fair. +For who his finger tip will lay +On the black snake in childish play, +And unattacked, with idle stroke +His poison-laden fang provoke? +Ill-fated fool, he little knows +Death's noose around his neck he throws, +Who rashly met thee, and a draught +Of life-destroying poison quaffed. +Strong, fierce as death, 'twas thine to choose +Thy way at will, each shape to use; +In power and might like one of us: +What hand has maimed and marred thee thus? +What God or fiend this deed has wrought, +What bard or sage of lofty thought +Was armed with power supremely great +Thy form to mar and mutilate? +In all the worlds not one I see +Would dare a deed to anger me: +Not Indra's self, the Thousand-eyed, +Beneath whose hand fierce Páka(459) died. +My life-destroying darts this day +His guilty breath shall rend away, +E'en as the thirsty wild swan drains +Each milk-drop that the wave retains. +Whose blood in foaming streams shall burst +O'er the dry ground which lies athirst, +When by my shafts transfixed and slain +He falls upon the battle plain? +From whose dead corpse shall birds of air +The mangled flesh and sinews tear, +And in their gory feast delight, +When I have slain him in the fight? +Not God or bard or wandering ghost, +No giant of our mighty host +Shall step between us, or avail +To save the wretch when I assail. +Collect each scattered sense, recall +Thy troubled thoughts, and tell me all. +What wretch attacked thee in the way, +And quelled thee in victorious fray?" + + His breast with burning fury fired, +Thus Khara of the fiend inquired: +And then with many a tear and sigh +Thus Súrpanakhá made reply: +"'Tis Dasaratha's sons, a pair +Strong, resolute, and young, and fair: +In coats of dark and blackdeer's hide, +And like the radiant lotus eyed: +On berries roots and fruit they feed, +And lives of saintly virtue lead: +With ordered senses undefiled, +Ráma and Lakshman are they styled. +Fair as the Minstrels' King(460) are they, +And stamped with signs of regal sway. +I know not if the heroes trace +Their line from Gods or Dánav(461) race. +There by these wondering eyes between +The noble youths a dame was seen, +Fair, blooming, young, with dainty waist, +And all her bright apparel graced. +For her with ready heart and mind +The royal pair their strength combined, +And brought me to this last distress, +Like some lost woman, comfortless. +Perfidious wretch! my soul is fain +Her foaming blood and theirs to drain. +O let me head the vengeful fight, +And with this hand my murderers smite. +Come, brother, hasten to fulfil +This longing of my eager will. +On to the battle! Let me drink +Their lifeblood as to earth they sink." + + Then Khara, by his sister pressed, +Inflamed with fury, gave his hest +To twice seven giants of his crew, +Fierce as the God of death to view: + + 'Two men equipped with arms, who wear +Deerskin and bark and matted hair, +Leading a beauteous dame, have strayed +To the wild gloom of Dandak's shade. +These men, this cursed woman slay, +And hasten back without delay, +That this my sister's lips may be +Red with the lifeblood of the three. +Giants, my wounded sister longs +To take this vengeance for her wrongs. +With speed her dearest wish fulfil, +And with your might these creatures kill. +Soon as your matchless strength shall lay +These brothers dead in battle fray, +She in triumphant joy will laugh, +And their hearts' blood delighted quaff." + + The giants heard the words he said, +And forth with Súrpanakhá sped, +As mighty clouds in autumn fly +Urged by the wind along the sky. + + + + +Canto XX. The Giants' Death. + + +Fierce Súrpanakhá with her train +To Ráma's dwelling came again, +And to the eager giants showed +Where Sítá and the youths abode. +Within the leafy cot they spied +The hero by his consort's side, +And faithful Lakshman ready still +To wait upon his brother's will. +Then noble Ráma raised his eye +And saw the giants standing nigh, +And then, as nearer still they pressed. +His glorious brother thus addressed, +"Be thine a while, my brother dear, +To watch o'er Sítá's safety here, +And I will slay these creatures who +The footsteps of my spouse pursue." + + He spoke, and reverent Lakshman heard +Submissive to his brother's word. +The son of Raghu, virtuous-souled, +Strung his great bow adorned with gold, +And, with the weapon in his hand, +Addressed him to the giant band: +"Ráma and Lakshman we, who spring +From Dasaratha, mighty king; +We dwell a while with Sítá here +In Dandak forest wild and drear. +On woodland roots and fruit we feed, +And lives of strictest rule we lead. +Say why would ye our lives oppress +Who sojourn in the wilderness. +Sent hither by the hermits' prayer +With bow and darts unused to spare, +For vengeance am I come to slay +Your sinful band in battle fray. +Rest as ye are: remain content, +Nor try the battle's dire event. +Unless your offered lives ye spurn, +O rovers of the night, return." + + They listened while the hero spoke, +And fury in each breast awoke. +The Bráhman-slayers raised on high +Their mighty spears and made reply: +They spoke with eyes aglow with ire, +While Ráma's burnt with vengeful tire, +And answered thus, in fury wild, +That peerless chief whose tones were mild: + + "Nay thou hast angered, overbold, +Khara our lord, the mighty-souled, +And for thy sin, in battle strife +Shalt yield to us thy forfeit life. +No power hast thou alone to stand +Against the numbers of our band. +'Twere vain to match thy single might +Against us in the front of fight. +When we equipped for fight advance +With brandished pike and mace and lance, +Thou, vanquished in the desperate field, +Thy bow, thy strength, thy life shalt yield." + + With bitter words and threatening mien +Thus furious spoke the fierce fourteen, +And raising scimitar and spear +On Ráma rushed in wild career. +Their levelled spears the giant crew +Against the matchless hero threw. +His bow the son of Raghu bent, +And twice seven shafts to meet them sent, +And every javelin sundered fell +By the bright darts he aimed so well. + + The hero saw: his anger grew +To fury: from his side he drew +Fresh sunbright arrows pointed keen, +In number, like his foes, fourteen. +His bow he grasped, the string he drew, +And gazing on the giant crew, +As Indra casts the levin, so +Shot forth his arrows at the foe. +The hurtling arrows, stained with gore, +Through the fiends' breasts a passage tore, +And in the earth lay buried deep +As serpents through an ant-hill creep +Like trees uptorn by stormy blast +The shattered fiends to earth were cast, +And there with mangled bodies they, +Bathed in their blood and breathless, lay. + + With fainting heart and furious eye +The demon saw her champions die. +With drying wounds that scarcely bled +Back to her brother's home she fled. +Oppressed with pain, with loud lament +At Khara's feet the monster bent. +There like a plant whence slowly come +The trickling drops of oozy gum, +With her grim features pale with pain +She poured her tears in ceaseless rain, +There routed Súrpanakhá lay, + And told her brother all, +The issue of the bloody fray, + Her giant champions' fall. + + + + +Canto XXI. The Rousing Of Khara. + + +Low in the dust he saw her lie, +And Khara's wrath grew fierce and high. +Aloud he cried to her who came +Disgracefully with baffled aim: +"I sent with thee at thy request +The bravest of my giants, best +Of all who feed upon the slain: +Why art thou weeping here again? +Still to their master's interest true, +My faithful, noble, loyal crew, +Though slaughtered in the bloody fray, +Would yet their monarch's word obey. +Now I, my sister, fain would know +The cause of this thy fear and woe, +Why like a snake thou writhest there, +Calling for aid in wild despair. +Nay, lie not thus in lowly guise: +Cast off thy weakness and arise!" + + With soothing words the giant chief +Assuaged the fury of her grief. +Her weeping eyes she slowly dried +And to her brother thus replied: +"I sought thee in my shame and fear +With severed nose and mangled ear: +My gashes like a river bled, +I sought thee and was comforted. +Those twice seven giants, brave and strong, +Thou sentest to avenge the wrong, +To lay the savage Ráma low, +And Lakshman who misused me so. +But ah, the shafts of Ráma through +The bodies of my champions flew: +Though madly fierce their spears they plied, +Beneath his conquering might they died. +I saw them, famed for strength and speed, +I saw my heroes fall and bleed: +Great trembling seized my every limb +At the great deed achieved by him. +In trouble, horror, doubt, and dread, +Again to thee for help I fled. +While terror haunts my troubled sight, +I seek thee, rover of the night. +And canst thou not thy sister free +From this wide waste of troublous sea +Whose sharks are doubt and terror, where +Each wreathing wave is dark despair? +Low lie on earth thy giant train +By ruthless Ráma's arrows slain, +And all the mighty demons, fed +On blood, who followed me are dead. +Now if within thy breast may be +Pity for them and love for me, +If thou, O rover of the night, +Have valour and with him can fight, +Subdue the giants' cruel foe +Who dwells where Dandak's thickets grow. +But if thine arm in vain assay +This queller of his foes to slay, +Now surely here before thine eyes, +Wronged and ashamed thy sister dies. +Too well, alas, too well I see +That, strong in war as thou mayst be, +Thou canst not in the battle stand +When Ráma meets thee hand to hand. +Go forth, thou hero but in name, +Assuming might thou canst not claim; +Call friend and kin, no longer stay: +Away from Janasthán, away! +Shame of thy race! the weak alone +Beneath thine arm may sink o'erthrown: +Fly Ráma and his brother: they +Are men too strong for thee to slay. +How canst thou hope, O weak and base, +To make this grove thy dwelling-place? +With Ráma's might unmeet to vie, +O'ermastered thou wilt quickly die. +A hero strong in valorous deed +Is Ráma, Dasaratha's seed: +And scarce of weaker might than he +His brother chief who mangled me." + + Thus wept and wailed in deep distress +The grim misshapen giantess: +Before her brother's feet she lay +O'erwhelmed with grief, and swooned away. + + + + +Canto XXII. Khara's Wrath. + + +Roused by the taunting words she spoke, +The mighty Khara's wrath awoke, +And there, while giants girt him round, +In these fierce words an utterance found: + + "I cannot, peerless one, contain +Mine anger at this high disdain, +Galling as salt when sprinkled o'er +The rawness of a bleeding sore. +Ráma in little count I hold, +Weak man whose days are quickly told. +The caitiff with his life to-day +For all his evil deeds shall pay. +Dry, sister, dry each needless tear, +Stint thy lament and banish fear, +For Ráma and his brother go +This day to Yáma's realm below. +My warrior's axe shall stretch him slain, +Ere set of sun, upon the plain, +Then shall thy sated lips be red +With his warm blood in torrents shed." + + As Khara's speech the demon heard, +With sudden joy her heart was stirred: +She fondly praised him as the boast +And glory of the giant host. +First moved to ire by taunts and stings, +Now soothed by gentle flatterings, +To Dúshan, who his armies led, +The demon Khara spoke, and said: + + "Friend, from the host of giants call +Full fourteen thousand, best of all, +Slaves of my will, of fearful might, +Who never turn their backs in fight: +Fiends who rejoice to slay and mar, +Dark as the clouds of autumn are: +Make ready quickly, O my friend, +My chariot and the bows I bend. +My swords, my shafts of brilliant sheen, +My divers lances long and keen. +On to the battle will I lead +These heroes of Pulastya's seed, +And thus, O famed for warlike skill, +Ráma my wicked foeman kill." + + He spoke, and ere his speech was done, +His chariot glittering like the sun, +Yoked and announced, by Dúshan's care, +With dappled steeds was ready there. +High as a peak from Meru rent +It burned with golden ornament: +The pole of lazulite, of gold +Were the bright wheels whereon it rolled. +With gold and moonstone blazoned o'er, +Fish, flowers, trees, rocks, the panels bore; +Auspicious birds embossed thereon, +And stars in costly emblem shone. +O'er flashing swords his banner hung, +And sweet bells, ever tinkling, swung. +That mighty host with sword and shield +And oar was ready for the field: +And Khara saw, and Dúshan cried, +"Forth to the fight, ye giants, ride." +Then banners waved, and shield and sword +Flashed as the host obeyed its lord. +From Janasthán they sallied out +With eager speed, and din, and shout, +Armed with the mace for close attacks, +The bill, the spear, the battle-axe, +Steel quoit and club that flashed afar, +Huge bow and sword and scimitar, +The dart to pierce, the bolt to strike, +The murderous bludgeon, lance, and pike. +So forth from Janasthán, intent +On Khara's will, the monsters went. +He saw their awful march: not far +Behind the host he drove his car. +Ware of his master's will, to speed +The driver urged each gold-decked steed. +Then forth the warrior's coursers sprang, +And with tumultuous murmur rang +Each distant quarter of the sky +And realms that intermediate lie. +High and more high within his breast + His pride triumphant rose, +While terrible as Death he pressed + Onward to slay his foes, +"More swiftly yet," as on they fled, + He cried in thundering tones +Loud as a cloud that overhead + Hails down a flood of stones. + + + + +Canto XXIII. The Omens. + + +As forth upon its errand went +That huge ferocious armament, +An awful cloud, in dust and gloom, +With threatening thunders from its womb +Poured in sad augury a flood +Of rushing water mixt with blood. +The monarch's steeds, though strong and fleet, +Stumbled and fell: and yet their feet +Passed o'er the bed of flowers that lay +Fresh gathered on the royal way. +No gleam of sunlight struggled through +The sombre pall of midnight hue, +Edged with a line of bloody red, +Like whirling torches overhead. +A vulture, fierce, of mighty size. +Terrific with his cruel eyes, +Perched on the staff enriched with gold, +Whence hung the flag in many a fold. +Each ravening bird, each beast of prey +Where Janasthán's wild thickets lay, +Rose with a long discordant cry +And gathered as the host went by. +And from the south long, wild, and shrill, +Came spirit voices boding ill. +Like elephants in frantic mood, +Vast clouds terrific, sable-hued, +Hid all the sky where'er they bore +Their load of water mixt with gore. +Above, below, around were spread +Thick shades of darkness strange and dread, +Nor could the wildered glance descry +A point or quarter of the sky. +Then came o'er heaven a sanguine hue, +Though evening's flush not yet was due, +While each ill-omened bird that flies +Assailed the king with harshest cries. +There screamed the vulture and the crane, +And the loud jackal shrieked again. +Each hideous thing that bodes aright +Disaster in the coming fight, +With gaping mouth that hissed and flamed, +The ruin of the host proclaimed. +Eclipse untimely reft away +The brightness of the Lord of Day, +And near his side was seen to glow +A mace-like comet boding woe. +Then while the sun was lost to view +A mighty wind arose and blew, +And stars like fireflies shed their light, +Nor waited for the distant night. +The lilies drooped, the brooks were dried, +The fish and birds that swam them died, +And every tree that was so fair +With flower and fruit was stripped and bare. +The wild wind ceased, yet, raised on high, +Dark clouds of dust involved the sky. +In doleful twitter long sustained +The restless Sárikás(462) complained, +And from the heavens with flash and flame +Terrific meteors roaring came. +Earth to her deep foundation shook +With rock and tree and plain and brook, +As Khara with triumphant shout, +Borne in his chariot, sallied out. +His left arm throbbed: he knew full well +That omen, and his visage fell. +Each awful sign the giant viewed, +And sudden tears his eye bedewed. +Care on his brow sat chill and black, +Yet mad with wrath he turned not back. +Upon each fearful sight that raised +The shuddering hair the chieftain gazed, +And laughing in his senseless pride +Thus to his giant legions cried: +"By sense of mightiest strength upborne, +These feeble signs I laugh to scorn. +I could bring down the stars that shine +In heaven with these keen shafts of mine. +Impelled by warlike fury I +Could cause e'en Death himself to die. +I will not seek my home again +Until my pointed shafts have slain +This Raghu's son so fierce in pride, +And Lakshman by his brother's side. +And she, my sister, she for whom +These sons of Raghu meet their doom, +She with delighted lips shall drain +The lifeblood of her foemen slain. +Fear not for me: I ne'er have known +Defeat, in battle overthrown. +Fear not for me, O giants; true +Are the proud words I speak to you. +The king of Gods who rules on high, +If wild Airávat bore him nigh, +Should fall before me bolt in hand: +And shall these two my wrath withstand!" + + He ended and the giant host +Who heard their chief's triumphant boast, +Rejoiced with equal pride elate, +Entangled in the noose of Fate. + + Then met on high in bright array, +With eyes that longed to see the fray, +God and Gandharva, sage and saint, +With beings pure from earthly taint. +Blest for good works aforetime wrought, +Thus each to other spake his thought: +"Now joy to Bráhmans, joy to kine, +And all whom world count half divine! +May Raghu's offspring slay in fight +Pulastya's sons who roam by night!" +In words like these and more, the best +Of high-souled saints their hopes expressed, +Bending their eager eyes from where +Car-borne with Gods they rode in air. +Beneath them stretching far, they viewed +The giants' death-doomed multitude. +They saw where, urged with fury, far +Before the host rolled Khara's car, +And close beside their leader came +Twelve giant peers of might and fame. +Four other chiefs(463) before the rest +Behind their leader Dúshan pressed. + Impetuous, cruel, dark, and dread, + All thirsting for the fray, + The hosts of giant warriors sped + Onward upon their way. + With eager speed they reached the spot + Where dwelt the princely two,-- + Like planets in a league to blot + The sun and moon from view. + + + + +Canto XXIV. The Host In Sight. + + +While Khara, urged by valiant rage, +Drew near that little hermitage, +Those wondrous signs in earth and sky +Smote on each prince's watchful eye. +When Ráma saw those signs of woe +Fraught with destruction to the foe, +With bold impatience scarce repressed +His brother chief he thus addressed: + + "These fearful signs, my brother bold, +Which threaten all our foes, behold: +All laden, as they strike the view, +With ruin to the fiendish crew. +The angry clouds are gathering fast, +Their skirts with dusty gloom o'ercast, +And harsh with loud-voiced thunder, rain +Thick drops of blood upon the plain. +See, burning for the coming fight, +My shafts with wreaths of smoke are white, +And my great bow embossed with gold +Throbs eager for the master's hold. +Each bird that through the forest flies +Sends out its melancholy cries. +All signs foretell the dangerous strife, +The jeopardy of limb and life. +Each sight, each sound gives warning clear +That foemen meet and death is near. +But courage, valiant brother! well +The throbbings of mine arm foretell +That ruin waits the hostile powers, +And triumph in the fight is ours. +I hail the welcome omen: thou +Art bright of face and clear of brow. +For Lakshman, when the eye can trace +A cloud upon the warrior's face +Stealing the cheerful light away, +His life is doomed in battle fray. +List, brother, to that awful cry: +With shout and roar the fiends draw nigh. +With thundering beat of many a drum +The savage-hearted giants come. +The wise who value safety know +To meet, prepared, the coming blow: +In paths of prudence trained aright +They watch the stroke before it smite. +Take thou thine arrows and thy bow, +And with the Maithil lady go +For shelter to the mountain cave +Where thickest trees their branches wave. +I will not have thee, Lakshman, say +One word in answer, but obey. +By all thy honour for these feet +Of mine, dear brother, I entreat. +Thy warlike arm, I know could, smite +To death these rovers of the night; +But I this day would fight alone +Till all the fiends be overthrown." +He spake: and Lakshman answered naught: +His arrows and his bow he brought, +And then with Sítá following hied +For shelter to the mountain side. +As Lakshman and the lady through +The forest to the cave withdrew, +"'Tis well," cried Ráma. Then he braced +His coat of mail around his waist. +When, bright as blazing fire, upon +His mighty limbs that armour shone, +The hero stood like some great light +Uprising in the dark of night. +His dreadful shafts were by his side; +His trusty bow he bent and plied, +Prepared he stood: the bowstring rang, +Filling the welkin with the clang. + + The high-souled Gods together drew +The wonder of the fight to view, +The saints made free from spot and stain, +And bright Gandharvas' heavenly train. +Each glorious sage the assembly sought, +Each saint divine of loftiest thought, +And filled with zeal for Ráma's sake. +Thus they whose deeds were holy spake: + + "Now be it well with Bráhmans, now +Well with the worlds and every cow! +Let Ráma in the deadly fray +The fiends who walk in darkness slay, +As He who bears the discus(464) slew +The chieftains of the Asur crew." + + Then each with anxious glances viewed +His fellow and his speech renewed: +"There twice seven thousand giants stand +With impious heart and cruel hand: +Here Ráma stands, by virtue known: +How can the hero fight alone?" + + Thus royal sage and Bráhman saint, +Spirit, and Virtue free from taint, +And all the Gods of heaven who rode +On golden cars, their longing showed. +Their hearts with doubt and terror rent, +They saw the giants' armament, +And Ráma clothed in warrior might, +Forth standing in the front of fight. +Lord of the arm no toil might tire, +He stood majestic in his ire, +Matchless in form as Rudra(465) when +His wrath is fierce on Gods or men. + + While Gods and saints in close array +Held converse of the coming fray, +The army of the fiends drew near +With sight and sound that counselled fear. +Long, loud and deep their war-cry pealed, +As on they rushed with flag and shield, +Each, of his proper valour proud, +Urging to fight the demon crowd. +His ponderous bow each warrior tried, +And swelled his bulk with martial pride. +'Mid shout and roar and trampling feet, +And thunder of the drums they beat, +Loud and more loud the tumult went +Throughout the forest's vast extent, +And all the life that moved within +The woodland trembled at the din. +In eager haste all fled to find +Some tranquil spot, nor looked behind. + + With every arm of war supplied, +On-rushing wildly like the tide +Of some deep sea, the giant host +Approached where Ráma kept his post. +Then he, in battle skilled and tried, +Bent his keen eye on every side, +And viewed the host of Khara face +To face before his dwelling-place. +He drew his arrows forth, and reared +And strained that bow which foemen feared, +And yielded to the vengeful sway +Of fierce desire that host to slay. +Terrific as the ruinous fire +That ends the worlds, he glowed in ire, +And his tremendous form dismayed +The Gods who roam the forest shade. +For in the furious wrath that glowed +Within his soul the hero showed +Like Siva when his angry might +Stayed Daksha's sacrificial rite.(466) +Like some great cloud at dawn of day + When first the sun upsprings, +And o'er the gloomy mass each ray + A golden radiance flings: +Thus showed the children of the night, + Whose mail and chariots threw, +With gleam of bows and armlets bright, + Flashes of flamy hue. + + + + +Canto XXV. The Battle. + + +When Khara with the hosts he led +Drew near to Ráma's leafy shed, +He saw that queller of the foe +Stand ready with his ordered bow. +He saw, and burning at the view +His clanging bow he raised and drew, +And bade his driver urge apace +His car to meet him face to face. +Obedient to his master's hest +His eager steeds the driver pressed +On to the spot where, none to aid, +The strong-armed chief his weapon swayed. +Soon as the children of the night +Saw Khara rushing to the fight, +His lords with loud unearthly cry +Followed their chief and gathered nigh. +As in his car the leader rode +With all his lords around, he showed +Like the red planet fiery Mars +Surrounded by the lesser stars. +Then with a horrid yell that rent +The air, the giant chieftain sent +A thousand darts in rapid shower +On Ráma matchless in his power. +The rovers of the night, impelled +By fiery rage which naught withheld, +Upon the unconquered prince, who strained +His fearful bow, their arrows rained. +With sword and club, with mace and pike, +With spear and axe to pierce and strike, +Those furious fiends on every side +The unconquerable hero plied. +The giant legions huge and strong, +Like clouds the tempest drives along, +Rushed upon Ráma with the speed +Of whirling car, and mounted steed, +And hill-like elephant, to slay +The matchless prince in battle fray. +Then upon Ráma thick and fast +The rain of mortal steel they cast, +As labouring clouds their torrents shed +Upon the mountain-monarch's(467) head. +As near and nearer round him drew +The warriors of the giant crew, +He showed like Siva girt by all +His spirits when night's shadows fall. +As the great deep receives each rill +And river rushing from the hill, +He bore that flood of darts, and broke +With well-aimed shaft each murderous stroke. +By stress of arrowy storm assailed, +And wounded sore, he never failed, +Like some high mountain which defies +The red bolts flashing from the skies. +With ruddy streams each limb was dyed +From gaping wounds in breast and side, +Showing the hero like the sun +'Mid crimson clouds ere day is done. +Then, at that sight of terror, faint +Grew God, Gandharva, sage, and saint, +Trembling to see the prince oppose +His single might to myriad foes. +But waxing wroth, with force unspent, +He strained his bow to utmost bent, +And forth his arrows keen and true +In hundreds, yea in thousands flew,-- +Shafts none could ward, and none endure: +Death's fatal noose was scarce so sure. +As 'twere in playful ease he shot +His gilded shafts, and rested not. +With swiftest flight and truest aim +Upon the giant hosts they came. +Each smote, each stayed a foeman's breath +As fatal as the coil of Death. +Each arrow through a giant tore +A passage, and besmeared with gore, +Pursued its onward way and through +The air with flamy brilliance flew. +Unnumbered were the arrows sent +From the great bow which Ráma bent, +And every shaft with iron head +The lifeblood of a giant shed. +Their pennoned bows were cleft, nor mail +Nor shield of hide could aught avail. +For Ráma's myriad arrows tore +Through arms, and bracelets which they wore, +And severed mighty warriors' thighs +Like trunks of elephants in size, +And cut resistless passage sheer +Through gold-decked horse and charioteer, +Slew elephant and rider, slew +The horseman and the charger too, +And infantry unnumbered sent +To dwell 'neath Yáma's government. +Then rose on high a fearful yell +Of rovers of the night, who fell +Beneath that iron torrent, sore +Wounded by shafts that rent and tore. +So mangled by the ceaseless storm +Of shafts of every kind and form, +Such joy they found, as forests feel +When scorched by flame, from Ráma's steel. +The mightiest still the fight maintained, +And furious upon Ráma rained +Dart, arrow, spear, with wild attacks +Of mace, and club, and battle-axe. +But the great chief, unconquered yet, +Their weapons with his arrows met, +Which severed many a giant's head, +And all the plain with corpses spread. +With sundered bow and shattered shield +Headless they sank upon the field, +As the tall trees, that felt the blast +Of Garud's wing, to earth were cast. +The giants left unslaughtered there +Where filled with terror and despair, +And to their leader Khara fled +Faint, wounded, and discomfited. +These fiery Dúshan strove to cheer, +And poised his bow to calm their fear; +Then fierce as He who rules the dead, +When wroth, on angered Ráma sped. +By Dúshan cheered, the demons cast +Their dread aside and rallied fast +With Sáls, rocks, palm-trees in their hands +With nooses, maces, pikes, and brands, +Again upon the godlike man +The mighty fiends infuriate ran, +These casting rocks like hail, and these +A whelming shower of leafy trees. +Wild, wondrous fight, the eye to scare, +And raise on end each shuddering hair, +As with the fiends who loved to rove +By night heroic Ráma strove! +The giants in their fury plied +Ráma with darts on every side. +Then, by the gathering demons pressed +From north and south and east and west, +By showers of deadly darts assailed +From every quarter fiercely hailed, +Girt by the foes who swarmed around, +He raised a mighty shout whose sound +Struck terror. On the giant crew +His great Gandharva(468) arrow flew. +A thousand mortal shafts were rained +From the orbed bow the hero strained, +Till east and west and south and north +Were filled with arrows volleyed forth. +They heard the fearful shout: they saw +His mighty hand the bowstring draw, +Yet could no wounded giant's eye +See the swift storm of arrows fly. +Still firm the warrior stood and cast +His deadly missiles thick and fast. +Dark grew the air with arrowy hail +Which hid the sun as with a veil. +Fiends wounded, falling, fallen, slain, +All in a moment, spread the plain, +And thousands scarce alive were left +Mangled, and gashed, and torn, and cleft. +Dire was the sight, the plain o'erspread +With trophies of the mangled dead. +There lay, by Ráma's missiles rent, +Full many a priceless ornament, +With severed limb and broken gem, +Hauberk and helm and diadem. +There lay the shattered car, the steed, +The elephant of noblest breed, +The splintered spear, the shivered mace, +Chouris and screens to shade the face. +The giants saw with bitterest pain +Their warriors weltering on the plain, +Nor dared again his might oppose +Who scourged the cities of his foes. + + + + +Canto XXVI. Dúshan's Death. + + +When Dúshan saw his giant band +Slaughtered by Ráma's conquering hand, +He called five thousand fiends, and gave +His orders. Bravest of the brave, +Invincible, of furious might, +Ne'er had they turned their backs in flight. +They, as their leader bade them seize +Spears, swords, and clubs, and rocks, and trees, +Poured on the dauntless prince again +A ceaseless shower of deadly rain. +The virtuous Ráma, undismayed, +Their missiles with his arrows stayed, +And weakened, ere it fell, the shock +Of that dire hail of tree and rock, +And like a bull with eyelids closed, +The pelting of the storm opposed. + + Then blazed his ire: he longed to smite +To earth the rovers of the night. +The wrath that o'er his spirit came +Clothed him with splendour as of flame, +While showers of mortal darts he poured +Fierce on the giants and their lord. +Dúshan, the foeman's dusky dread, +By frenzied rage inspirited, +On Raghu's son his missiles cast +Like Indra's bolts which rend and blast. +But Ráma with a trenchant dart +Cleft Dúshan's ponderous bow apart. +And then the gold-decked steeds who drew +The chariot, with four shafts he slew. +One crescent dart he aimed which shred +Clean from his neck the driver's head; +Three more with deadly skill addressed +Stood quivering in the giant's breast. +Hurled from his car, steeds, driver slain, +The bow he trusted cleft in twain, +He seized his mace, strong, heavy, dread, +High as a mountain's towering head. +With plates of gold adorned and bound, +Embattled Gods it crushed and ground. +Its iron spikes yet bore the stains +Of mangled foemen's blood and brains. +Its heavy mass of jagged steel +Was like a thunderbolt to feel. +It shattered, as on foes it fell, +The city where the senses dwell.(469) +Fierce Dúshan seized that ponderous mace +Like monstrous form of serpent race, +And all his savage soul aglow +With fury, rushed upon the foe. +But Raghu's son took steady aim, +And as the rushing giant came, +Shore with two shafts the arms whereon +The demon's glittering bracelets shone. +His arm at each huge shoulder lopped, +The mighty body reeled and dropped, +And the great mace to earth was thrown +Like Indra's staff when storms have blown. +As some vast elephant who lies +Shorn of his tusks, and bleeding dies, +So, when his arms were rent away, +Low on the ground the giant lay. +The spirits saw the monster die, +And loudly rang their joyful cry, +"Honour to Ráma! nobly done! +Well hast thou fought, Kakutstha's son!" +But the great three, the host who led, +Enraged to see their chieftain dead, +As though Death's toils were round them cast, +Rushed upon Ráma fierce and fast, +Mahákapála seized, to strike +His foeman down, a ponderous pike: +Sthúláksha charged with spear to fling, +Pramáthi with his axe to swing. +When Ráma saw, with keen darts he +Received the onset of the three, +As calm as though he hailed a guest +In each, who came for shade and rest. +Mahákapála's monstrous head +Fell with the trenchant dart he sped. +His good right hand in battle skilled +Sthúláksha's eyes with arrows filled, +And trusting still his ready bow +He laid the fierce Pramáthi low, +Who sank as some tall tree falls down +With bough and branch and leafy crown. +Then with five thousand shafts he slew +The rest of Dúshan's giant crew: +Five thousand demons, torn and rent, +To Yáma's gloomy realm he sent. + + When Khara knew the fate of all +The giant band and Dúshan's fall, +He called the mighty chiefs who led +His army, and in fury said: + + "Now Dúshan and his armèd train +Lie prostrate on the battle plain. +Lead forth an army mightier still, +Ráma this wretched man, to kill. +Fight ye with darts of every shape, +Nor let him from your wrath escape." + + Thus spoke the fiend, by rage impelled, +And straight his course toward Ráma held. +With Syenagámí and the rest +Of his twelve chiefs he onward pressed, +And every giant as he went +A storm of well-wrought arrows sent. +Then with his pointed shafts that came +With gold and diamond bright as flame, +Dead to the earth the hero threw +The remnant of the demon crew. +Those shafts with feathers bright as gold, +Like flames which wreaths of smoke enfold, +Smote down the fiends like tall trees rent +By red bolts from the firmament. +A hundred shafts he pointed well: +By their keen barbs a hundred fell: +A thousand,--and a thousand more +In battle's front lay drenched in gore. +Of all defence and guard bereft, +With sundered bows and harness cleft. +Their bodies red with bloody stain +Fell the night-rovers on the plain, +Which, covered with the loosened hair +Of bleeding giants prostrate there, +Like some great altar showed, arrayed +For holy rites with grass o'erlaid. +The darksome wood, each glade and dell +Where the wild demons fought and fell +Was like an awful hell whose floor +Is thick with mire and flesh and gore. + + Thus twice seven thousand fiends, a band +With impious heart and bloody hand, +By Raghu's son were overthrown, +A man, on foot, and all alone. +Of all who met on that fierce day, +Khara, great chief, survived the fray, +The monster of the triple head,(470) +And Raghu's son, the foeman's dread. +The other demon warriors, all +Skilful and brave and strong and tall, +In front of battle, side by side, +Struck down by Lakshman's brother died. + When Khara saw the host he led + Triumphant forth to fight + Stretched on the earth, all smitten dead, + By Ráma's nobler might, + Upon his foe he fiercely glared, + And drove against him fast, + Like Indra when his arm is bared + His thundering bolt to cast. + + + + +Canto XXVII. The Death Of Trisirás. + + +But Trisirás,(471) a chieftain dread, +Marked Khara as he onward sped. +And met his car and cried, to stay +The giant from the purposed fray: +"Mine be the charge: let me attack, +And turn thee from the contest back. +Let me go forth, and thou shalt see +The strong-armed Ráma slain by me. +True are the words I speak, my lord: +I swear it as I touch my sword: +That I this Ráma's blood will spill, +Whom every giant's hand should kill. +This Ráma will I slay, or he +In battle fray shall conquer me. +Restrain thy spirit: check thy car, +And view the combat from afar. +Thou, joying o'er the prostrate foe, +To Janasthán again shalt go, +Or, if I fall in battle's chance, +Against my conqueror advance." + + Thus Trisirás for death who yearned: +And Khara from the conflict turned, +"Go forth to battle," Khara cried; +And toward his foe the giant hied. +Borne on a car of glittering hue +Which harnessed coursers fleetly drew, +Like some huge hill with triple peak +He onward rushed the prince to seek. +Still, like a big cloud, sending out +His arrowy rain with many a shout +Like the deep sullen roars that come +Discordant from a moistened drum. +But Raghu's son, whose watchful eye +Beheld the demon rushing nigh, +From the great bow he raised and bent +A shower of shafts to meet him sent. +Wild grew the fight and wilder yet +As fiend and man in combat met, +As when in some dark wood's retreat +An elephant and a lion meet. + + The giant bent his bow, and true +To Ráma's brow three arrows flew. +Then, raging as he felt the stroke, +These words in anger Ráma spoke: +"Heroic chief! is such the power +Of fiends who rove at midnight hour? +Soft as the touch of flowers I feel +The gentle blows thine arrows deal. +Receive in turn my shafts, and know +What arrows fly from Ráma's bow." +Thus as he spoke his wrath grew hot, +And twice seven deadly shafts he shot, +Which, dire as serpent's deadly fang, +Straight to the giant's bosom sprang. +Four arrows more,--each shaped to deal +A mortal wound with barbèd steel,-- +The glorious hero shot, and slew +The four good steeds the car that drew. +Eight other shafts flew straight and fleet, +And hurled the driver from his seat, +And in the dust the banner laid +That proudly o'er the chariot played. +Then as the fiend prepared to bound +Forth from his useless car to ground, +The hero smote him to the heart, +And numbed his arm with deadly smart. +Again the chieftain, peerless-souled, +Sent forth three rapid darts, and rolled +With each keen arrow, deftly sped, +Low in the dust a monstrous head. +Then yielding to each deadly stroke, +Forth spouting streams of blood and smoke, +The headless trunk bedrenched with gore +Fell to the ground and moved no more. +The fiends who yet were left with life, +Routed and crushed in battle strife, +To Khara's side, like trembling deer +Scared by the hunter, fled in fear. +King Khara saw with furious eye +His scattered giants turn and fly; +Then rallying his broken train +At Raghu's son he drove amain, +Like Ráhu(472) when his deadly might +Comes rushing on the Lord of Night. + + + + +Canto XXVIII. Khara Dismounted. + + +But when he turned his eye where bled +Both Trisirás and Dúshan dead, +Fear o'er the giant's spirit came +Of Ráma's might which naught could tame. +He saw his savage legions, those +Whose force no creature dared oppose,-- +He saw the leader of his train +By Ráma's single prowess slain. +With burning grief he marked the few +Still left him of his giant crew. +As Namuchi(473) on Indra, so +Rushed the dread demon on his foe. +His mighty bow the monster strained, +And angrily on Ráma rained +His mortal arrows in a flood, +Like serpent fangs athirst for blood. +Skilled in the bowman's warlike art, +He plied the string and poised the dart. +Here, on his car, and there, he rode, +And passages of battle showed, +While all the skyey regions grew +Dark with his arrows as they flew. +Then Ráma seized his ponderous bow, +And straight the heaven was all aglow +With shafts whose stroke no life might bear +That filled with flash and flame the air, +Thick as the blinding torrents sent +Down from Parjanya's(474) firmament. +In space itself no space remained, +But all was filled with arrows rained +Incessantly from each great bow +Wielded by Ráma and his foe. +As thus in furious combat, wrought +To mortal hate, the warriors fought, +The sun himself grew faint and pale, +Obscured behind that arrowy veil. + + As when beneath the driver's steel +An elephant is forced to kneel, +So from the hard and pointed head +Of many an arrow Ráma bled. +High on his car the giant rose +Prepared in deadly strife to close, +And all the spirits saw him stand +Like Yáma with his noose in hand. +For Khara deemed in senseless pride +That he, beneath whose hand had died +The giant legions, failed at length +Slow sinking with exhausted strength. +But Ráma, like a lion, when +A trembling deer comes nigh his den, +Feared not the demon mad with hate,-- +Of lion might and lion gait. +Then in his lofty car that glowed +With sunlike brilliance Khara rode +At Ráma: madly on he came +Like a poor moth that seeks the flame. +His archer skill the fiend displayed, +And at the place where Ráma laid +His hand, an arrow cleft in two +The mighty bow the hero drew. +Seven arrows by the giant sent, +Bright as the bolts of Indra, rent +Their way through mail and harness joints, +And pierced him with their iron points. +On Ráma, hero unsurpassed, +A thousand shafts smote thick and fast, +While as each missile struck, rang out +The giant's awful battle-shout. +His knotted arrows pierced and tore +The sunbright mail the hero wore, +Till, band and buckle rent away, +Glittering on the ground it lay. +Then pierced in shoulder, breast, and side, +Till every limb with blood was dyed, +The chieftain in majestic ire +Shone glorious as the smokeless fire. +Then loud and long the war-cry rose +Of Ráma, terror of his foes, +As, on the giant's death intent, +A ponderous bow he strung and bent,-- +Lord Vishnu's own, of wondrous size,-- +Agastya gave the heavenly prize. +Then rushing on the demon foe, +He raised on high that mighty bow, +And with his well-wrought shafts, whereon +Bright gold between the feathers shone, +He struck the pennon fluttering o'er +The chariot, and it waved no more. +That glorious flag whose every fold +Was rich with blazonry and gold, +Fell as the sun himself by all +The Gods' decree might earthward fall. +From wrathful Khara's hand, whose art +Well knew each vulnerable part, +Four keenly-piercing arrows flew, +And blood in Ráma's bosom drew, +With every limb distained with gore +From deadly shafts which rent and tore, +From Khara's clanging bowstring shots, +The prince's wrath waxed wondrous hot. +His hand upon his bow that best +Of mighty archers firmly pressed, +And from the well-drawn bowstring, true +Each to its mark, six arrows flew. +One quivered in the giant's head, +With two his brawny shoulders bled; +Three, with the crescent heads they bore, +Deep in his breast a passage tore. +Thirteen, to which the stone had lent +The keenest point, were swiftly sent +On the fierce giant, every one +Destructive, gleaming like the sun. +With four the dappled steeds he slew; +One cleft the chariot yoke in two, +One, in the heat of battle sped, +Smote from the neck the driver's head. +The poles were rent apart by three; +Two broke the splintered axle-tree. +Then from the hand of Ráma, while +Across his lips there came a smile, +The twelfth, like thunderbolt impelled, +Cut the great hand and bow it held. +Then, scarce by Indra's self surpassed, +He pierced the giant with the last. +The bow he trusted cleft in twain, +His driver and his horses slain, +Down sprang the giant, mace in hand, +On foot against the foe to stand. + The Gods and saints in bright array + Close gathered in the skies, + The prince's might in battle-fray + Beheld with joyful eyes. + Uprising from their golden seats, + Their hands in honour raised, + They looked on Ráma's noble feats, + And blessed him as they praised. + + + + +Canto XXIX. Khara's Defeat. + + +When Ráma saw the giant nigh, +On foot, alone, with mace reared high, +In mild reproof at first he spoke, +Then forth his threatening anger broke: +"Thou with the host 'twas thine to lead, +With elephant and car and steed, +Hast wrought an act of sin and shame, +An act which all who live must blame. +Know that the wretch whose evil mind +Joys in the grief of human kind, +Though the three worlds confess him lord, +Must perish dreaded and abhorred. +Night-rover, when a villain's deeds +Distress the world he little heeds, +Each hand is armed his life to take, +And crush him like a deadly snake. +The end is near when men begin +Through greed or lust a life of sin, +E'en as a Bráhman's dame, unwise, +Eats of the fallen hail(475) and dies. +Thy hand has slain the pure and good, +The hermit saints of Dandak wood, +Of holy life, the heirs of bliss; +And thou shalt reap the fruit of this. +Not long shall they whose cruel breasts +Joy in the sin the world detests +Retain their guilty power and pride, +But fade like trees whose roots are dried. +Yes, as the seasons come and go, +Each tree its kindly fruit must show, +And sinners reap in fitting time +The harvest of each earlier crime. +As those must surely die who eat +Unwittingly of poisoned meat, +They too whose lives in sin are spent +Receive ere long the punishment. +And know, thou rover of the night, +That I, a king, am sent to smite +The wicked down, who court the hate +Of men whose laws they violate. +This day my vengeful hand shall send +Shafts bright with gold to tear and rend, +And pass with fury through thy breast +As serpents pierce an emmet's nest. +Thou with thy host this day shalt be +Among the dead below, and see +The saints beneath thy hand who bled, +Whose flesh thy cruel maw has fed. +They, glorious on their seats of gold, +Their slayer shall in hell behold. +Fight with all strength thou callest thine, +Mean scion of ignoble line, +Still, like the palm-tree's fruit, this day +My shafts thy head in dust shall lay." + + Such were the words that Ráma said: +Then Khara's eyes with wrath glowed red, +Who, maddened by the rage that burned +Within him, with a smile returned: + + "Thou Dasaratha's son, hast slain +The meaner giants of my train: +And canst thou idly vaunt thy might +And claim the praise not thine by right? +Not thus in self-laudation rave +The truly great, the nobly brave: +No empty boasts like thine disgrace +The foremost of the human race. +The mean of soul, unknown to fame, +Who taint their warrior race with shame, +Thus speak in senseless pride as thou, +O Raghu's son, hast boasted now. +What hero, when the war-cry rings, +Vaunts the high race from which he springs, +Or seeks, when warriors meet and die, +His own descent to glorify? +Weakness and folly show confessed +In every vaunt thou utterest, +As when the flames fed high with grass +Detect the simulating brass. +Dost thou not see me standing here +Armed with the mighty mace I rear, +Firm as an earth upholding hill +Whose summit veins of metal fill? +Lo, here I stand before thy face +To slay thee with my murderous mace, +As Death, the universal lord, +Stands threatening with his fatal cord. +Enough of this. Much more remains +That should be said: but time constrains. +Ere to his rest the sun descend, +And shades of night the combat end, +The twice seven thousand of my band +Who fell beneath thy bloody hand +Shall have their tears all wiped away +And triumph in thy fall to-day." + + He spoke, and loosing from his hold +His mighty mace ringed round with gold, +Like some red bolt alive with fire +Hurled it at Ráma, mad with ire. +The ponderous mace which Khara threw +Sent fiery flashes as it flew. +Trees, shrubs were scorched beneath the blast, +As onward to its aim it passed. +But Ráma, watching as it sped +Dire as His noose who rules the dead, +Cleft it with arrows as it came +On rushing with a hiss and flame. +Its fury spent and burnt away, +Harmless upon the ground it lay +Like a great snake in furious mood +By herbs of numbing power subdued. + + + + +Canto XXX. Khara's Death. + + + When Ráma, pride of Raghu's race, +Virtue's dear son, had cleft the mace, +Thus with superior smile the best +Of chiefs the furious fiend addressed: + + "Thou, worst of giant blood, at length +Hast shown the utmost of thy strength, +And forced by greater might to bow, +Thy vaunting threats are idle now. +My shafts have cut thy club in twain: +Useless it lies upon the plain, +And all thy pride and haughty trust +Lie with it levelled in the dust. +The words that thou hast said to-day, +That thou wouldst wipe the tears away +Of all the giants I have slain, +My deeds shall render void and vain. +Thou meanest of the giants' breed, +Evil in thought and word and deed, +My hand shall take that life of thine +As Garud(476) seized the juice divine. +Thou, rent by shafts, this day shalt die: +Low on the ground thy corse shall lie, +And bubbles from the cloven neck +With froth and blood thy skin shall deck. +With dust and mire all rudely dyed, +Thy torn arms lying by thy side, +While streams of blood each limb shall steep, +Thou on earth's breast shalt take thy sleep +Like a fond lover when he strains +The beauty whom at length he gains. +Now when thy heavy eyelids close +For ever in thy deep repose, +Again shall Dandak forest be +Safe refuge for the devotee. +Thou slain, and all thy race who held +The realm of Janasthán expelled, +Again shall happy hermits rove, +Fearing no danger, through the grove. +Within those bounds, their brethren slain, +No giant shall this day remain, +But all shall fly with many a tear +And fearing, rid the saints of fear. +This bitter day shall misery bring +On all the race that calls thee king. +Fierce as their lord, thy dames shall know, +Bereft of joys, the taste of woe. +Base, cruel wretch, of evil mind, +Plaguer of Bráhmans and mankind, +With trembling hands each devotee +Feeds holy fires in dread of thee." + + Thus with wild fury unrepressed +Raghu's brave son the fiend addressed; +And Khara, as his wrath grew high, +Thus thundered forth his fierce reply: + + "By senseless pride to madness wrought, +By danger girt thou fearest naught, +Nor heedest, numbered with the dead, +What thou shouldst say and leave unsaid. +When Fate's tremendous coils enfold +The captive in resistless hold, +He knows not right from wrong, each sense +Numbed by that deadly influence." + + He spoke, and when his speech was done +Bent his fierce brows on Raghu's son. +With eager eyes he looked around +If lethal arms might yet be found. +Not far away and full in view +A Sál-tree towering upward grew. +His lips in mighty strain compressed, +He tore it up with root and crest, +With huge arms waved it o'er his head +And hurled it shouting, Thou art dead. +But Ráma, unsurpassed in might, +Stayed with his shafts its onward flight, +And furious longing seized his soul +The giant in the dust to roll. +Great drops of sweat each limb bedewed, +His red eyes showed his wrathful mood. +A thousand arrows, swiftly sent, +The giant's bosom tore and rent. +From every gash his body showed +The blood in foamy torrents flowed, +As springing from their caverns leap +Swift rivers down the mountain steep. +When Khara felt each deadened power +Yielding beneath that murderous shower, +He charged, infuriate with the scent +Of blood, in dire bewilderment. +But Ráma watched, with ready bow, +The onset of his bleeding foe, +And ere the monster reached him, drew +Backward in haste a yard or two. +Then from his side a shaft he took +Whose mortal stroke no life might brook: +Of peerless might, it bore the name +Of Brahmá's staff, and glowed with flame: +Lord Indra, ruler of the skies, +Himself had given the glorious prize. +His bow the virtuous hero drew, +And at the fiend the arrow flew. +Hissing and roaring like the blast +Of tempest through the air it passed, +And fixed, by Ráma's vigour sped, +In the foe's breast its pointed head. +Then fell the fiend: the quenchless flame +Burnt furious in his wounded frame. +So burnt by Rudra Andhak(477) fell +In Svetáranya's silvery dell: +So Namuchi and Vritra(478) died +By steaming bolts that tamed their pride: +So Bala(479) fell by lightning sent +By Him who rules the firmament. + + Then all the Gods in close array +With the bright hosts who sing and play, +Filled full of rapture and amaze, +Sang hymns of joy in Ráma's praise, +Beat their celestial drums and shed +Rain of sweet flowers upon his head. +For three short hours had scarcely flown, +And by his pointed shafts o'erthrown +The twice seven thousand fiends, whose will +Could change their shapes, in death were still, +With Trisirás and Dúshan slain, +And Khara, leader of the train. +"O wondrous deed," the bards began, +"The noblest deed of virtuous man! +Heroic strength that stood alone, +And firmness e'en as Vishnu's own!" + + Thus having sung, the shining train +Turned to their heavenly homes again. +Then the high saints of royal race +And loftiest station sought the place, +And by the great Agastya led, +With reverence to Ráma said: + + "For this, Lord Indra, glorious sire, +Majestic as the burning fire, +Who crushes cities in his rage, +Sought Sarabhanga's hermitage. +Thou wast, this great design to aid, +Led by the saints to seek this shade, +And with thy mighty arm to kill +The giants who delight in ill. +Thou Dasaratha's noble son, +The battle for our sake hast won, +And saints in Dandak's wild who live +Their days to holy tasks can give." + + Forth from the mountain cavern came +The hero Lakshman with the dame. +And rapture beaming from his face, +Resought the hermit dwelling-place. +Then when the mighty saints had paid +Due honour for the victor's aid, +The glorious Ráma honoured too +By Lakshman to his cot withdrew. +When Sítá looked upon her lord, +His foemen slain, the saints restored, +In pride and rapture uncontrolled +She clasped him in her loving hold. +On the dead fiends her glances fell: +She saw her lord alive and well, +Victorious after toil and pain, +And Janak's child was blest again. +Once more, once more with new delight + Her tender arms she threw +Round Ráma whose victorious might + Had crushed the demon crew. +Then as his grateful reverence paid + Each saint of lofty soul, +O'er her sweet face, all fears allayed, + The flush of transport stole. + + + + +Canto XXXI. Rávan. + + +But of the host of giants one, +Akampan, from the field had run +And sped to Lanká(480) to relate +In Rávan's ear the demons' fate: + + "King, many a giant from the shade +Of Janasthán in death is laid: +Khara the chief is slain, and I +Could scarcely from the battle fly." + + Fierce anger, as the monarch heard, +Inflamed his look, his bosom stirred, +And while with scorching glance he eyed +The messenger, he thus replied: + + "What fool has dared, already dead, +Strike Janasthán, the general dread? +Who is the wretch shall vainly try +In earth, heaven, hell, from me to fly? +Vaisravan,(481) Indra, Vishnu, He +Who rules the dead, must reverence me; +For not the mightiest lord of these +Can brave my will and live at ease. +Fate finds in me a mightier fate +To burn the fires that devastate. +With unresisted influence I +Can force e'en Death himself to die, +With all-surpassing might restrain +The fury of the hurricane, +And burn in my tremendous ire +The glory of the sun and fire." + + As thus the fiend's hot fury blazed, +His trembling hands Akampan raised, +And with a voice which fear made weak, +Permission craved his tale to speak. +King Rávan gave the leave he sought, +And bade him tell the news he brought. +His courage rose, his voice grew bold, +And thus his mournful tale he told: + + "A prince with mighty shoulders, sprung +From Dasaratha, brave and young, +With arms well moulded, bears the name +Of Ráma with a lion's frame. +Renowned, successful, dark of limb, +Earth has no warrior equals him. +He fought in Janasthán and slew +Dúshan the fierce and Khara too." + + Rávan the giants' royal chief. +Received Akampan's tale of grief. +Then, panting like an angry snake, +These words in turn the monarch spake: + + "Say quick, did Ráma seek the shade +Of Janasthán with Indra's aid, +And all the dwellers in the skies +To back his hardy enterprise?" + + Akampan heard, and straight obeyed +His master, and his answer made. +Then thus the power and might he told +Of Raghu's son the lofty-souled: + + "Best is that chief of all who know +With deftest art to draw the bow. +His are strange arms of heavenly might, +And none can match him in the fight. +His brother Lakshman brave as he, +Fair as the rounded moon to see, +With eyes like night and voice that comes +Deep as the roll of beaten drums, +By Ráma's side stands ever near, +Like wind that aids the flame's career. +That glorious chief, that prince of kings, +On Janasthán this ruin brings. +No Gods were there,--dismiss the thought +No heavenly legions came and fought. +His swift-winged arrows Ráma sent, +Each bright with gold and ornament. +To serpents many-faced they turned: +The giant hosts they ate and burned. +Where'er these fled in wild dismay +Ráma was there to strike and slay. +By him O King of high estate, +Is Janasthán left desolate." + + Akampan ceased: in angry pride +The giant monarch thus replied: +"To Janasthán myself will go +And lay these daring brothers low." + + Thus spoke the king in furious mood: +Akampan then his speech renewed: +"O listen while I tell at length +The terror of the hero's strength. +No power can check, no might can tame +Ráma, a chief of noblest fame. +He with resistless shafts can stay +The torrent foaming on its way. +Sky, stars, and constellations, all +To his fierce might would yield and fall. +His power could earth itself uphold +Down sinking as it sank of old.(482) +Or all its plains and cities drown, +Breaking the wild sea's barrier down; +Crush the great deep's impetuous will, +Or bid the furious wind be still. +He glorious in his high estate +The triple world could devastate, +And there, supreme of men, could place +His creatures of a new-born race. +Never can mighty Ráma be +O'ercome in fight, my King, by thee. +Thy giant host the day might win +From him, if heaven were gained by sin. +If Gods were joined with demons, they +Could ne'er, I ween, that hero slay, +But guile may kill the wondrous man; +Attend while I disclose the plan. +His wife, above all women graced, +Is Sítá of the dainty waist, +With limbs to fair proportion true, +And a soft skin of lustrous hue, +Round neck and arm rich gems are twined: +She is the gem of womankind. +With her no bright Gandharví vies, +No nymph or Goddess in the skies; +And none to rival her would dare +'Mid dames who part the long black hair. +That hero in the wood beguile, +And steal his lovely spouse the while. +Reft of his darling wife, be sure, +Brief days the mourner will endure." + + With flattering hope of triumph moved +The giant king that plan approved, +Pondered the counsel in his breast, +And then Akampan thus addressed: +"Forth in my car I go at morn, +None but the driver with me borne, +And this fair Sítá will I bring +Back to my city triumphing." + + Forth in his car by asses drawn +The giant monarch sped at dawn, +Bright as the sun, the chariot cast +Light through the sky as on it passed. +Then high in air that best of cars +Traversed the path of lunar stars, +Sending a fitful radiance pale +As moonbeams shot through cloudy veil. +Far on his airy way he flew: +Near Tádakeya's(483) grove he drew. +Márícha welcomed him, and placed +Before him food which giants taste, +With honour led him to a seat, +And brought him water for his feet; +And then with timely words addressed +Such question to his royal guest: + + "Speak, is it well with thee whose sway +The giant multitudes obey? +I know not all, and ask in fear +The cause, O King, why thou art here." + + Ráva, the giants' mighty king, +Heard wise Márícha's questioning, +And told with ready answer, taught +In eloquence, the cause he sought: +"My guards, the bravest of my band, +Are slain by Ráma's vigorous hand, +And Janasthán, that feared no hate +Of foes, is rendered desolate. +Come, aid me in the plan I lay +To steal the conqueror's wife away." + + Márícha heard the king's request, +And thus the giant chief addressed: + + "What foe in friendly guise is he +Who spoke of Sítá's name to thee? +Who is the wretch whose thought would bring +Destruction on the giants' king? +Whose is the evil counsel, say, +That bids thee bear his wife away, +And careless of thy life provoke +Earth's loftiest with threatening stroke? +A foe is he who dared suggest +This hopeless folly to thy breast, +Whose ill advice would bid thee draw +The venomed fang from serpent's jaw. +By whose unwise suggestion led +Wilt thou the path of ruin tread? +Whence falls the blow that would destroy +Thy gentle sleep of ease and joy? + Like some wild elephant is he + That rears his trunk on high, + Lord of an ancient pedigree, + Huge tusks, and furious eye. + Rávan, no rover of the night + With bravest heart can brook, + Met in the front of deadly fight, + On Raghu's son to look. + The giant hosts were brave and strong, + Good at the bow and spear: + But Ráma slew the routed throng, + A lion 'mid the deer. + No lion's tooth can match his sword, + Or arrows fiercely shot: + He sleeps, he sleeps--the lion lord; + Be wise and rouse him not. + O Monarch of the giants, well + Upon my counsel think, + Lest thou for ever in the hell + Of Ráma's vengeance sink: + A hell, where deadly shafts are sent + From his tremendous-bow, + While his great arms all flight prevent, + Like deepest mire below: + Where the wild floods of battle rave + Above the foeman's head, + And each with many a feathery wave + Of shafts is garlanded. + O, quench the flames that in thy breast + With raging fury burn; + And pacified and self-possessed + To Lanká's town return. + Rest thou in her imperial bowers + With thine own wives content, + And in the wood let Ráma's hours + With Sítá still be spent." + + The lord of Lanká's isle obeyed +The counsel, and his purpose stayed. +Borne on his car he parted thence +And gained his royal residence. + + + + +Canto XXXII. Rávan Roused. + + +But Súrpanakhá saw the plain +Spread with the fourteen thousand slain, +Doers of cruel deeds o'erthrown +By Ráma's mighty arm alone, +Add Trisirás and Dúshan dead, +And Khara, with the hosts they led. +Their death she saw, and mad with pain, +Roared like a cloud that brings the rain, +And fled in anger and dismay +To Lanká, seat of Rávan's sway. +There on a throne of royal state +Exalted sat the potentate, +Begirt with counsellor and peer, +Like Indra with the Storm Gods near. +Bright as the sun's full splendour shone +The glorious throne he sat upon, +As when the blazing fire is red +Upon a golden altar fed. +Wide gaped his mouth at every breath, +Tremendous as the jaws of Death. +With him high saints of lofty thought, +Gandharvas, Gods, had vainly fought. +The wounds were on his body yet +From wars where Gods and demons met. +And scars still marked his ample chest +By fierce Airávat's(484) tusk impressed. +A score of arms, ten necks, had he, +His royal gear was brave to see. +His massive form displayed each sign +That marks the heir of kingly line. +In stature like a mountain height, +His arms were strong, his teeth were white, +And all his frame of massive mould +Seemed lazulite adorned with gold. +A hundred seams impressed each limp +Where Vishnu's arm had wounded him, +And chest and shoulder bore the print +Of sword and spear and arrow dint, +Where every God had struck a blow +In battle with the giant foe. +His might to wildest rage could wake +The sea whose faith naught else can shake, +Hurl towering mountains to the earth, +And crush e'en foes of heavenly birth. +The bonds of law and right he spurned: +To others' wives his fancy turned. +Celestial arms he used in fight, +And loved to mar each holy rite. +He went to Bhogavatí's town,(485) +Where Vásuki was beaten down, +And stole, victorious in the strife, +Lord Takshaka's beloved wife. +Kailása's lofty crest he sought, +And when in vain Kuvera fought, +Stole Pushpak thence, the car that through +The air, as willed the master, flew. +Impelled by furious anger, he +Spoiled Nandan's(486) shade and Naliní, +And Chaitraratha's heavenly grove, +The haunts where Gods delight to rove. +Tall as a hill that cleaves the sky, +He raised his mighty arms on high +To check the blessed moon, and stay +The rising of the Lord of Day. +Ten thousand years the giant spent +On dire austerities intent, +And of his heads an offering, laid +Before the Self-existent, made. +No God or fiend his life could take, +Gandharva, goblin, bird, or snake: +Safe from all fears of death, except +From human arm, that life was kept. +Oft when the priests began to raise +Their consecrating hymns of praise, +He spoiled the Soma's sacred juice +Poured forth by them in solemn use. +The sacrifice his hands o'erthrew, +And cruelly the Bráhmans slew. +His was a heart that naught could melt, +Joying in woes which others felt. + + She saw the ruthless monster there, +Dread of the worlds, unused to spare. +In robes of heavenly texture dressed, +Celestial wreaths adorned his breast. +He sat a shape of terror, like +Destruction ere the worlds it strike. +She saw him in his pride of place, +The joy of old Pulastya's(487) race, +Begirt by counsellor and peer, +Rávan, the foeman's mortal fear, +And terror in her features shown, +The giantess approached the throne. + Then Súrpanakhá bearing yet + Each deeply printed trace + Where the great-hearted chief had set + A mark upon her face, + Impelled by terror and desire, + Still fierce, no longer bold, + To Rávan of the eyes of fire + Her tale, infuriate, told. + + + + +Canto XXXIII. Súrpanakhá's Speech. + + +Burning with anger, in the ring +Of counsellors who girt their king, +To Rávan, ravener of man, +With bitter words she thus began: + + "Wilt thou absorbed in pleasure, still +Pursue unchecked thy selfish will: +Nor turn thy heedless eyes to see +The coming fate which threatens thee? +The king who days and hours employs +In base pursuit of vulgar joys +Must in his people's sight be vile +As fire that smokes on funeral pile. +He who when duty calls him spares +No time for thought of royal cares, +Must with his realm and people all +Involved in fatal ruin fall. +As elephants in terror shrink +From the false river's miry brink, +Thus subjects from a monarch flee +Whose face their eyes may seldom see, +Who spends the hours for toil ordained +In evil courses unrestrained. +He who neglects to guard and hold +His kingdom by himself controlled, +Sinks nameless like a hill whose head +Is buried in the ocean's bed. +Thy foes are calm and strong and wise, +Fiends, Gods, and warriors of the skies,-- +How, heedless, wicked, weak, and vain, +Wilt thou thy kingly state maintain? +Thou, lord of giants, void of sense, +Slave of each changing influence, +Heedless of all that makes a king, +Destruction on thy head wilt bring. +O conquering chief, the prince, who boasts, +Of treasury and rule and hosts, +By others led, though lord of all, +Is meaner than the lowest thrall. +For this are monarchs said to be +Long-sighted, having power to see +Things far away by faithful eyes +Of messengers and loyal spies. +But aid from such thou wilt not seek: +Thy counsellors are blind and weak, +Or thou from these hadst surely known +Thy legions and thy realm o'erthrown. +Know, twice seven thousand, fierce in might, +Are slain by Ráma in the fight, +And they, the giant host who led, +Khara and Dúshan, both are dead. +Know, Ráma with his conquering arm +Has freed the saints from dread of harm, +Has smitten Janasthán and made +Asylum safe in Dandak's shade. +Enslaved and dull, of blinded sight, +Intoxicate with vain delight, +Thou closest still thy heedless eyes +To dangers in thy realm that rise. +A king besotted, mean, unkind, +Of niggard hand and slavish mind. +Will find no faithful followers heed +Their master in his hour of need. +The friend on whom he most relies, +In danger, from a monarch flies, +Imperious in his high estate, +Conceited, proud, and passionate; +Who ne'er to state affairs attends +With wholesome fear when woe impends +Most weak and worthless as the grass, +Soon from his sway the realm will pass. +For rotting wood a use is found, +For clods and dust that strew the ground, +But when a king has lost his sway, +Useless he falls, and sinks for aye. +As raiment by another worn, +As faded garland crushed and torn, +So is, unthroned, the proudest king, +Though mighty once, a useless thing. +But he who every sense subdues +And each event observant views, +Rewards the good and keeps from wrong, +Shall reign secure and flourish long. +Though lulled in sleep his senses lie +He watches with a ruler's eye, +Untouched by favour, ire, and hate, +And him the people celebrate. +O weak of mind, without a trace +Of virtues that a king should grace, +Who hast not learnt from watchful spy +That low in death the giants lie. +Scorner of others, but enchained + By every base desire, + By thee each duty is disdained + Which time and place require. + Soon wilt thou, if thou canst not learn, + Ere yet it be too late, + The good from evil to discern, + Fall from thy high estate." + As thus she ceased not to upbraid + The king with cutting speech, + And every fault to view displayed, + Naming and marking each, + The monarch of the sons of night, + Of wealth and power possessed, + And proud of his imperial might, + Long pondered in his breast. + + + + +Canto XXXIV. Súrpanakhá's Speech. + + +Then forth the giant's fury broke +As Súrpanakhá harshly spoke. +Girt by his lords the demon king +Looked on her, fiercely questioning: + + "Who is this Ráma, whence, and where? +His form, his might, his deeds declare. +His wandering steps what purpose led +To Dandak forest, hard to tread? +What arms are his that he could smite +In fray the rovers of the night, +And Trisirás and Dúshan lay +Low on the earth, and Khara slay? +Tell all, my sister, and declare +Who maimed thee thus, of form most fair." + + Thus by the giant king addressed, +While burnt her fury unrepressed, +The giantess declared at length +The hero's form and deeds and strength: + + "Long are his arms and large his eyes: +A black deer's skin his dress supplies. +King Dasaratha's son is he, +Fair as Kandarpa's self to see. +Adorned with many a golden band, +A bow, like Indra's, arms his hand, +And shoots a flood of arrows fierce +As venomed snakes to burn and pierce. +I looked, I looked, but never saw +His mighty hand the bowstring draw +That sent the deadly arrows out, +While rang through air his battle-shout. +I looked, I looked, and saw too well +How with that hail the giants fell, +As falls to earth the golden grain, +Struck by the blows of Indra's rain. +He fought, and twice seven thousand, all +Terrific giants, strong and tall, +Fell by the pointed shafts o'erthrown +Which Ráma shot on foot, alone. +Three little hours had scarcely fled,-- +Khara and Dúshan both were dead, +And he had freed the saints and made +Asylum sure in Dandak's shade. +Me of his grace the victor spared, +Or I the giants' fate had shared. +The high-souled Ráma would not deign +His hand with woman's blood to stain. +The glorious Lakshman, justly dear, +In gifts and warrior might his peer, +Serves his great brother with the whole +Devotion of his faithful soul: +Impetuous victor, bold and wise, +First in each hardy enterprise, +Still ready by his side to stand, +A second self or better hand. +And Ráma has a large-eyed spouse, +Pure as the moon her cheek and brows, +Dearer than life in Ráma's sight, +Whose happiness is her delight. +With beauteous hair and nose the dame +From head to foot has naught to blame. +She shines the wood's bright Goddess, Queen +Of beauty with her noble mien. +First in the ranks of women placed +Is Sítá of the dainty waist. +In all the earth mine eyes have ne'er +Seen female form so sweetly fair. +Goddess nor nymph can vie with her, +Nor bride of heavenly chorister. +He who might call this dame his own, +Her eager arms about him thrown, +Would live more blest in Sítá's love +Than Indra in the world above. +She, peerless in her form and face +And rich in every gentle grace, +Is worthy bride, O King, for thee, +As thou art meet her lord to be. +I even I, will bring the bride +In triumph to her lover's side-- +This beauty fairer than the rest, +With rounded limb and heaving breast. +Each wound upon my face I owe +To cruel Lakshman's savage blow. +But thou, O brother, shalt survey +Her moonlike loveliness to-day, +And Káma's piercing shafts shall smite +Thine amorous bosom at the sight. +If in thy breast the longing rise +To make thine own the beauteous prize, +Up, let thy better foot begin +The journey and the treasure win. +If, giant Lord, thy favouring eyes +Regard the plan which I advise, +Up, cast all fear and doubt away +And execute the words I say +Come, giant King, this treasure seek, +For thou art strong and they are weak. +Let Sítá of the faultless frame +Be borne away and be thy dame. +Thy host in Janasthán who dwelt + Forth to the battle hied. +And by the shafts which Ráma dealt + They perished in their pride. +Dúshan and Khara breathe no more, + Laid low upon the plain. +Arise, and ere the day be o'er + Take vengeance for the slain." + + + + +Canto XXXV. Rávan's Journey. + + +When Rávan, by her fury spurred, +That terrible advice had heard, +He bade his nobles quit his side, +And to the work his thought applied. +He turned his anxious mind to scan +On every side the hardy plan: +The gain against the risk he laid, +Each hope and fear with care surveyed, +And in his heart at length decreed +To try performance of the deed. +Then steady in his dire intent +The giant to the courtyard went. +There to his charioteer he cried, +"Bring forth the car whereon I ride." +Aye ready at his master's word +The charioteer the order heard, +And yoked with active zeal the best +Of chariots at his lord's behest. +Asses with heads of goblins drew +That wondrous car where'er it flew. +Obedient to the will it rolled +Adorned with gems and glistering gold. +Then mounting, with a roar as loud +As thunder from a labouring cloud, +The mighty monarch to the tide +Of Ocean, lord of rivers, hied. +White was the shade above him spread, +White chouris waved around his head, +And he with gold and jewels bright +Shone like the glossy lazulite. +Ten necks and twenty arms had he: +His royal gear was good to see. +The heavenly Gods' insatiate foe, +Who made the blood of hermits flow, +He like the Lord of Hills appeared +With ten huge heads to heaven upreared. +In the great car whereon he rode, +Like some dark cloud the giant showed, +When round it in their close array +The cranes 'mid wreaths of lightning play. +He looked, and saw, from realms of air, +The rocky shore of ocean, where +Unnumbered trees delightful grew +With flower and fruit of every hue. +He looked on many a lilied pool +With silvery waters fresh and cool, +And shores like spacious altars meet +For holy hermits' lone retreat. +The graceful palm adorned the scene, +The plantain waved her glossy green. +There grew the sál and betel, there +On bending boughs the flowers were fair. +There hermits dwelt who tamed each sense +By strictest rule of abstinence: +Gandharvas, Kinnars,(488) thronged the place, +Nágas and birds of heavenly race. +Bright minstrels of the ethereal quire, +And saints exempt from low desire, +With Ájas, sons of Brahmá's line, +Maríchipas of seed divine, +Vaikhánasas and Máshas strayed, +And Bálakhilyas(489) in the shade. +The lovely nymphs of heaven were there, +Celestial wreaths confined their hair, +And to each form new grace was lent +By wealth of heavenly ornament. +Well skilled was each in play and dance +And gentle arts of dalliance. +The glorious wife of many a God +Those beautiful recesses trod, +There Gods and Dánavs, all who eat +The food of heaven, rejoiced to meet. +The swan and Sáras thronged each bay +With curlews, ducks, and divers gay, +Where the sea spray rose soft and white +O'er rocks of glossy lazulite. +As his swift way the fiend pursued +Pale chariots of the Gods he viewed, +Bearing each lord whose rites austere +Had raised him to the heavenly sphere. +Thereon celestial garlands hung, +There music played and songs were sung. +Then bright Gandharvas met his view, +And heavenly nymphs, as on he flew. +He saw the sandal woods below, +And precious trees of odorous flow, +That to the air around them lent +Their riches of delightful scent; +Nor failed his roving eye to mark +Tall aloe trees in grove and park. +He looked on wood with cassias filled, +And plants which balmy sweets distilled, +Where her fair flowers the betel showed +And the bright pods of pepper glowed. +The pearls in many a silvery heap +Lay on the margin of the deep. +And grey rocks rose amid the red +Of coral washed from ocean's bed. +High soared the mountain peaks that bore +Treasures of gold and silver ore, +And leaping down the rocky walls +Came wild and glorious waterfalls. +Fair towns which grain and treasure held, +And dames who every gem excelled, +He saw outspread beneath him far, +With steed, and elephant, and car. +That ocean shore he viewed that showed +Fair as the blessed Gods' abode +Where cool delightful breezes played +O'er levels in the freshest shade. +He saw a fig-tree like a cloud +With mighty branches earthward bowed. +It stretched a hundred leagues and made +For hermit bands a welcome shade. +Thither the feathered king of yore +An elephant and tortoise bore, +And lighted on a bough to eat +The captives of his taloned feet. +The bough unable to sustain +The crushing weight and sudden strain, +Loaded with sprays and leaves of spring +Gave way beneath the feathered king. +Under the shadow of the tree +Dwelt many a saint and devotee, +Ájas, the sons of Brahmá's line, +Máshas, Maríchipas divine. +Vaikhánasas, and all the race +Of Bálakhilyas, loved the place. +But pitying their sad estate +The feathered monarch raised the weight +Of the huge bough, and bore away +The loosened load and captured prey. +A hundred leagues away he sped, +Then on his monstrous booty fed, +And with the bough he smote the lands +Where dwell the wild Nisháda bands. +High joy was his because his deed +From jeopardy the hermits freed. +That pride for great deliverance wrought +A double share of valour brought. +His soul conceived the high emprise +To snatch the Amrit from the skies. +He rent the nets of iron first, +Then through the jewel chamber burst, +And bore the drink of heaven away +That watched in Indra's palace lay. + + Such was the hermit-sheltering tree +Which Rávan turned his eye to see. +Still marked where Garud sought to rest, +The fig-tree bore the name of Blest. + + When Rávan stayed his chariot o'er +The ocean's heart-enchanting shore, +He saw a hermitage that stood +Sequestered in the holy wood. +He saw the fiend Márícha there +With deerskin garb, and matted hair +Coiled up in hermit guise, who spent +His days by rule most abstinent. +As guest and host are wont to meet, +They met within that lone retreat. +Before the king Márícha placed +Food never known to human taste. +He entertained his guest with meat +And gave him water for his feet, +And then addressed the giant king +With timely words of questioning: + + "Lord, is it well with thee, and well +With those in Lanká's town who dwell? +What sudden thought, what urgent need +Has brought thee with impetuous speed?" + + The fiend Márícha thus addressed +Rávan the king, his mighty guest, +And he, well skilled in arts that guide +The eloquent, in turn replied: + + + + +Canto XXXVI. Rávan's Speech. + + +"Hear me, Márícha, while I speak, +And tell thee why thy home I seek. +Sick and distressed am I, and see +My surest hope and help in thee. +Of Janasthán I need not tell, +Where Súrpanakhá, Khara, dwell, +And Dúshan with the arm of might, +And Trisirás, the fierce in fight, +Who feeds on human flesh and gore, +And many noble giants more, +Who roam in dark of midnight through +The forest, brave and strong and true. +By my command they live at ease +And slaughter saints and devotees. +Those twice seven thousand giants, all +Obedient to their captain's call, +Joying in war and ruthless deeds +Follow where mighty Khara leads. +Those fearless warrior bands who roam +Through Janasthán their forest home, +In all their terrible array +Met Ráma in the battle fray. +Girt with all weapons forth they sped +With Khara at the army's head. +The front of battle Ráma held: +With furious wrath his bosom swelled. +Without a word his hate to show +He launched the arrows from his bow. +On the fierce hosts the missiles came, +Each burning with destructive flame, +The twice seven thousand fell o'erthrown +By him, a man, on foot, alone. +Khara the army's chief and pride, +And Dúshan, fearless warrior, died, +And Trisirás the fierce was slain, +And Dandak wood was free again. + + He, banished by his angry sire, +Roams with his wife in mean attire. +This wretch, his Warrior tribe's disgrace +Has slain the best of giant race. +Harsh, wicked, fierce and greedy-souled, +A fool, with senses uncontrolled, +No thought of duty stirs his breast: +He joys to see the world distressed. +He sought the wood with fair pretence +Of truthful life and innocence, +But his false hand my sister left +Mangled, of nose and ears bereft. +This Ráma's wife who bears the name +Of Sítá, in her face and frame +Fair as a daughter of the skies,-- +Her will I seize and bring the prize +Triumphant from the forest shade: +For this I seek thy willing aid. +If thou, O mighty one, wilt lend +Thy help and stand beside thy friend, +I with my brothers may defy +All Gods embattled in the sky. +Come, aid me now, for thine the power +To succour in the doubtful hour. +Thou art in war and time of fear, +For heart and hand, without a peer. +For thou art skilled in art and wile, +A warrior brave and trained in guile. +With this one hope, this only aim, +O Rover of the Night, I came. +Now let me tell what aid I ask +To back me in my purposed task. +In semblance of a golden deer +Adorned with silver spots appear. +Go, seek his dwelling: in the way +Of Ráma and his consort stray. +Doubt not the lady, when she sees +The wondrous deer amid the trees, +Will bid her lord and Lakshman take +The creature for its beauty's sake. +Then when the chiefs have parted thence, +And left her lone, without defence, +As Ráhu storms the moonlight, I +Will seize the lovely dame and fly. +Her lord will waste away and weep +For her his valour could not keep. +Then boldly will I strike the blow +And wreak my vengeance on the foe." + + When wise Márícha heard the tale +His heart grew faint, his cheek was pale, +He stared with open orbs, and tried +To moisten lips which terror dried, +And grief, like death, his bosom rent +As on the king his look he bent. + The monarch's will he strove to stay, + Distracted with alarm, + For well he knew the might that lay + In Ráma's matchless arm. + With suppliant hands Márícha stood + And thus began to tell + His counsel for the tyrant's good, + And for his own as well: + + + + +Canto XXXVII. Márícha's Speech. + + +Márícha gave attentive ear +The ruler of the fiends to hear: +Then, trained in all the rules that teach +The eloquent, began his speech: +"'Tis easy task, O King, to find +Smooth speakers who delight the mind. +But they who urge and they who do +Distasteful things and wise, are few. +Thou hast not learnt, by proof untaught, +And borne away by eager thought, +That Ráma, formed for high emprise, +With Varun or with Indra vies. +Still let thy people live in peace, +Nor let their name and lineage cease, +For Ráma with his vengeful hand +Can sweep the giants from the land. +O, let not Janak's daughter bring +Destruction on the giant king. +Let not the lady Sítá wake +A tempest, on thy head to break. +Still let the dame, by care untried, +Be happy by her husband's side, +Lest swift avenging ruin fall +On glorious Lanká, thee, and all. +Men such as thou with wills unchained, +Advised by sin and unrestrained, +Destroy themselves, the king, the state, +And leave the people desolate. +Ráma, in bonds of duty held, +Was never by his sire expelled. +He is no wretch of greedy mind, +Dishonour of his Warrior kind. +Free from all touch of rancorous spite, +All creatures' good is his delight. +He saw his sire of truthful heart +Deceived by Queen Kaikeyí's art, +And said, a true and duteous son, +"What thou hast promised shall be done." +To gratify the lady's will, +His father's promise to fulfil, +He left his realm and all delight +For Dandak wood, an anchorite. +No cruel wretch, no senseless fool +Is Ráma, unrestrained by rule. +This groundless charge has ne'er been heard, +Nor shouldst thou speak the slanderous word. +Ráma in truth and goodness bold +Is Virtue's self in human mould, +The sovereign of the world confessed +As Indra rules among the Blest. +And dost thou plot from him to rend +The darling whom his arms defend? +Less vain the hope to steal away +The glory of the Lord of Day. +O Rávan, guard thee from the fire +Of vengeful Ráma's kindled ire,-- +Each spark a shaft with deadly aim, +While bow and falchion feed the flame. +Cast not away in hopeless strife +Thy realm, thy bliss, thine own dear life. +O Rávan of his might beware, +A God of Death who will not spare. +That bow he knows so well to draw +Is the destroyer's flaming jaw, +And with his shafts which flash and glow +He slays the armies of the foe. +Thou ne'er canst win--the thought forego-- +From the safe guard of shaft and bow +King Janak's child, the dear delight +Of Ráma unapproached in might. +The spouse of Raghu's son, confessed +Lion of men with lion chest,-- +Dearer than life, through good and ill +Devoted to her husband's will, +The slender-waisted, still must be +From thy polluting touches free. +Far better grasp with venturous hand +The flame to wildest fury fanned. +What, King of giants, canst thou gain +From this attempt so wild and vain? +If in the fight his eye he bend +Upon thee, Lord, thy days must end, +So life and bliss and royal sway, +Lost beyond hope, will pass away. +Summon each lord of high estate, +And chief, Vibhishan(490) to debate. +With peers in lore of counsel tried +Consider, reason, and decide +Scan strength and weakness, count the cost, +What may be gained and what be lost. +Examine and compare aright +Thy proper power and Ráma's might, +Then if thy weal be still thy care, +Thou wilt be prudent and forbear. +O giant King, the contest shun, + Thy force is all too weak +The lord of Kosál's mighty son + In deadly fray to seek. +King of the hosts that rove at night, + O hear what I advise: +My prudent counsel do not slight; + Be patient and be wise." + + + + +Canto XXXVIII. Márícha's Speech. + + +"Once in my strength and vigour's pride +I roamed this earth from side to side, +And towering like a mountain's crest, +A thousand Nágas'(491) might possessed. +Like some vast sable cloud I showed: +My golden armlets flashed and glowed. +A crown I wore, an axe I swayed, +And all I met were sore afraid. +I roved where Dandak wood is spread; +On flesh of slaughtered saints I fed. +Then Visvámitra, sage revered, +Holy of heart, my fury feared. +To Dasaratha's court he sped +And went before the king and said:(492) + + "With me, my lord, thy Ráma send +On holy days his aid to lend. +Márícha fills my soul with dread +And keeps me sore disquieted." + + The monarch heard the saint's request +And thus the glorious sage addressed: + + "My boy as yet in arms untrained +The age of twelve has scarce attained. +But I myself a host will lead +To guard thee in the hour of need. +My host with fourfold troops complete, +The rover of the night shall meet, +And I, O best of saints, will kill +Thy foeman and thy prayer fulfil." +The king vouchsafed his willing aid: +The saint again this answer made: + + "By Ráma's might, and his alone, +Can this great fiend be overthrown. +I know in days of yore the Blest +Thy saving help in fight confessed. +Still of thy famous deeds they tell +In heaven above, in earth, and hell, +A mighty host obeys thy hest: +Here let it still, I pray thee, rest. +Thy glorious son, though yet a boy, +Will in the fight that fiend destroy. +Ráma alone with me shall go: +Be happy, victor of the foe." + + He spoke: the monarch gave assent, +And Ráma to the hermit lent. +So to his woodland home in joy +Went Visvámitra with the boy. +With ready bow the champion stood +To guard the rites in Dandak wood. +With glorious eyes, most bright to view, +Beardless as yet and dark of hue; +A single robe his only wear, +His temples veiled with waving hair, +Around his neck a chain of gold, +He grasped the bow he loved to hold; +And the young hero's presence made +A glory in the forest shade. +Thus Ráma with his beauteous mien, +Like the young rising moon was seen, +I, like a cloud which tempest brings, +My arms adorned with golden rings, +Proud of the boon which lent me might, +Approached where dwelt the anchorite. +But Ráma saw me venturing nigh, +Raising my murderous axe on high; +He saw, and fearless of the foe, +Strung with calm hand his trusty bow. +By pride of conscious strength beguiled, +I scorned him as a feeble child, +And rushed with an impetuous bound +On Visvámitra's holy ground. +A keen swift shaft he pointed well, +The foeman's rage to check and quell, +And hurled a hundred leagues away +Deep in the ocean waves I lay. +He would not kill, but, nobly brave, +My forfeit life he chose to save. +So there I lay with wandering sense +Dazed by that arrow's violence. +Long in the sea I lay: at length +Slowly returned my sense and strength, +And rising from my watery bed +To Lanká's town again I sped. +Thus was I spared, but all my band +Fell slain by Ráma's conquering hand,-- +A boy, untrained in warrior's skill, +Of iron arm and dauntless will. +If thou with Ráma still, in spite +Of warning and of prayer, wilt fight, +I see terrific woes impend, +And dire defeat thy days will end. +Thy giants all will feel the blow +And share the fatal overthrow, +Who love the taste of joy and play, +The banquet and the festal day. +Thine eyes will see destruction take +Thy Lanká, lost for Sítá's sake, +And stately pile and palace fall +With terrace, dome, and jewelled wall. +The good will die: the crime of kings +Destruction on the people brings: +The sinless die, as in the lake +The fish must perish with the snake. +The prostrate giants thou wilt see +Slain for this folly wrought by thee, +Their bodies bright with precious scent +And sheen of heavenly ornament; +Or see the remnant of thy train +Seek refuge far, when help is vain +And with their wives, or widowed, fly +To every quarter of the sky; +Thy mournful eyes, where'er they turn, +Will see thy stately city burn, +When royal homes with fire are red, +And arrowy nets around are spread. +A sin that tops all sins in shame +Is outrage to another's dame, +A thousand wives thy palace fill, +And countless beauties wait thy will. +O rest contented with thine own, +Nor let thy race be overthrown. +If thou, O King, hast still delight +In rank and wealth and power and might, +In noble wives, in troops of friends, +In all that royal state attends, +I warn thee, cast not all away, +Nor challenge Ráma to the fray. +If deaf to every friendly prayer, + Thou still wilt seek the strife, +And from the side of Ráma tear + His lovely Maithil wife, +Soon will thy life and empire end + Destroyed by Ráma's bow, +And thou, with kith and kin and friend, + To Yáma's realm must go." + + + + +Canto XXXIX. Márícha's Speech. + + +"I told thee of that dreadful day +When Ráma smote and spared to slay. +Now hear me, Rávan, while I tell +What in the after time befell. +At length, restored to strength and pride, +I and two mighty fiends beside +Assumed the forms of deer and strayed +Through Dandak wood in lawn and glade, +I reared terrific horns: beneath +Were flaming tongue and pointed teeth. +I roamed where'er my fancy led, +And on the flesh of hermits fed, +In sacred haunt, by hallowed tree, +Where'er the ritual fires might be. +A fearful shape, I wandered through +The wood, and many a hermit slew. +With ruthless rage the saints I killed +Who in the grove their tasks fulfilled. +When smitten to the earth they sank, +Their flesh I ate, their blood I drank, +And with my cruel deeds dismayed +All dwellers in the forest shade, +Spoiling their rites in bitter hate, +With human blood inebriate. +Once in the wood I chanced to see +Ráma again, a devotee, +A hermit, fed on scanty fare, +Who made the good of all his care. +His noble wife was by his side, +And Lakshman in the battle tried. +In senseless pride I scorned the might +Of that illustrious anchorite, +And heedless of a hermit foe, +Recalled my earlier overthrow. +I charged him in my rage and scorn +To slay him with my pointed horn, +In heedless haste, to fury wrought +As on my former wounds I thought. +Then from the mighty bow he drew +Three foe-destroying arrows flew, +Keen-pointed, leaping from the string, +Swift as the wind or feathered king. +Dire shafts, on flesh of foemen fed, +Like rushing thunderbolts they sped, +With knots well smoothed and barbs well bent, +Shot e'en as one, the arrows went. +But I who Ráma's might had felt, +And knew the blows the hero dealt, +Escaped by rapid flight. The two +Who lingered on the spot, he slew. +I fled from mortal danger, freed +From the dire shaft by timely speed. +Now to deep thought my days I give, +And as a humble hermit live. +In every shrub, in every tree +I view that noblest devotee. +In every knotted trunk I mark +His deerskin and his coat of bark, +And see the bow-armed Ráma stand +Like Yáma with his noose in hand. +I tell thee Rávan, in my fright +A thousand Rámas mock my sight, +This wood with every bush and bough +Seems all one fearful Ráma now. +Throughout the grove there is no spot +So lonely where I see him not. +He haunts me in my dreams by night, +And wakes me with the wild affright. +The letter that begins his name +Sends terror through my startled frame. +The rapid cars whereon we ride, +The rich rare jewels, once my pride, +Have names(493) that strike upon mine ear +With hated sound that counsels fear. +His mighty strength too well I know, +Nor art thou match for such a foe. +Too strong were Raghus's son in fight +For Namuchi or Bali's might. +Then Ráma to the battle dare, +Or else be patient and forbear; +But, wouldst thou see me live in peace, +Let mention of the hero cease. +The good whose holy lives were spent +In deepest thought, most innocent, +With all their people many a time +Have perished through another's crime. +So in the common ruin, I +Must for another's folly die, +Do all thy strength and courage can, +But ne'er will I approve the plan. +For he, in might supremely great, +The giant world could extirpate, +Since, when impetuous Khara sought +The grove of Janasthán and fought +For Súrpanakhá's sake, he died +By Ráma's hand in battle tried. +How has he wronged thee? Soothly swear, +And Ráma's fault and sin declare. + I warn thee, and my words are wise, + I seek thy people's weal: + But if this rede thou wilt despise, + Nor hear my last appeal, + Thou with thy kin and all thy friends + In fight this day wilt die, + When his great bow the hero bends, + And shafts unerring fly." + + + + +Canto XL. Rávan's Speech. + + +But Rávan scorned the rede he gave +In timely words to warn and save, +E'en as the wretch who hates to live +Rejects the herb the leeches give. +By fate to sin and ruin spurred, +That sage advice the giant heard, +Then in reproaches hard and stern +Thus to Márícha spoke in turn: + + "Is this thy counsel, weak and base, +Unworthy of thy giant race? +Thy speech is fruitless, vain, thy toil +Like casting seed on barren soil. +No words of thine shall drive me back +From Ráma and the swift attack. +A fool is he, inured to sin, +And more, of human origin. +The craven, at a woman's call +To leave his sire, his mother, all +The friends he loved, the power and sway, +And hasten to the woods away! +But now his anger will I rouse, +Stealing away his darling spouse. +I in thy sight will ravish her +From Khara's cruel murderer. +Upon this plan my soul is bent, +And naught shall move my firm intent, +Not if the way through demons led +And Gods with Indra at their head. +'Tis thine, when questioned, to explain +The hope and fear, the loss and gain, +And, when thy king thy thoughts would know, +The triumph or the danger show. +A prudent counsellor should wait, +And speak when ordered in debate, +With hands uplifted, calm and meek, +If honour and reward he seek. +Or, when some prudent course he sees +Which, spoken, may his king displease +He should by hints of dexterous art +His counsel to his lord impart. +But prudent words are said in vain +When the blunt speech brings grief and pain. +A high-souled king will scarcely thank +The man who shames his royal rank. +Five are the shapes that kings assume, +Of majesty, of grace, and gloom: +Like Indra now, or Agni, now +Like the dear Moon, with placid brow: +Like mighty Varun now they show, +Now fierce as He who rules below. +O giant, monarchs lofty-souled +Are kind and gentle, stern and bold, +With gracious love their gifts dispense +And swiftly punish each offence. +Thus subjects should their rulers view +With all respect and honour due. +But folly leads thy heart to slight +Thy monarch and neglect his right. +Thou hast in lawless pride addressed +With bitter words thy royal guest. +I asked thee not my strength to scan, +Or loss and profit in the plan. +I only spoke to tell the deed +O mighty one, by me decreed, +And bid thee in the peril lend +Thy succour to support thy friend. +Hear me again, and I will tell +How thou canst aid my venture well. +In semblance of a golden deer +Adorned with silver drops, appear: +And near the cottage in the way +Of Ráma and his consort stray. +Draw nigh, and wandering through the brake +With thy strange form her fancy take. +The Maithil dame with wondering eyes +Will took upon thy fair disguise, +And quickly bid her husband go +And bring the deer that charms her so, +When Raghu's son has left the place, +Still pressing onward in the chase, +Cry out, "O Lakshman! Ah, mine own!" +With voice resembling Ráma's tone. +When Lakshman hears his brother's cry, +Impelled by Sítá he will fly, +Restless with eager love, to aid +The hunter in the distant shade. +When both her guards have left her side, +Even as Indra, thousand-eyed, +Clasps Sachí, will I bear away +The Maithil dame an easy prey. +When thou, my friend, this aid hast lent, +Go where thou wilt and live content. +True servant, faithful to thy vow, +With half my realm I thee endow. +Go forth, may luck thy way attend +That leads thee to the happy end. +I in my car will quickly be +In Dandak wood, and follow thee. +So will I cheat this Ráma's eyes +And win without a blow the prize; +And safe return to Lanká's town +With thee, my friend, this day shall crown. +But if thou wilt not aid my will, +My hand this day thy blood shall spill. +Yea, thou must share the destined task, +For force will take the help I ask. +No bliss that rebel's life attends +Whose stubborn will his lord offends. + Thy life, if thou the task assay, + In jeopardy may stand; + Oppose me, and this very day + Thou diest by this hand. + Now ponder all that thou hast heard + Within thy prudent breast: + Reflect with care on every word, + And do what seems the best." + + + + +Canto XLI. Márícha's Reply. + + +Against his judgment sorely pressed +By his imperious lord's behest, +Márícha threats of death defied +And thus with bitter words replied: +"Ah, who, my King, with sinful thought +This wild and wicked counsel taught, +By which destruction soon will fall +On thee, thy sons, thy realm and all? +Who is the guilty wretch who sees +With envious eye thy blissful ease, +And by this plan, so falsely shown, +Death's gate for thee has open thrown? +With souls impelled by mean desire +Thy foes against thy life conspire. +They urge thee to destruction's brink, +And gladly would they see thee sink. +Who with base thought to work thee woe +This fatal road has dared to show, +And, triumph in his wicked eye, +Would see thee enter in and die? +To all thy counsellors, untrue, +The punishment of death is due, +Who see thee tempt the dangerous way, +Nor strain each nerve thy foot to stay. +Wise lords, whose king, by passion led, +The path of sin begins to tread, +Restrain him while there yet is time: +But thine,--they see nor heed the crime. +These by their master's will obtain +Merit and fame and joy and gain. +'Tis only by their master's grace +That servants hold their lofty place. +But when the monarch stoops to sin +They lose each joy they strive to win, +And all the people people high and low +Fall in the common overthrow. +Merit and fame and honour spring, +Best of the mighty, from the king. +So all should strive with heart and will +To keep the king from every ill. +Pride, violence, and sullen hate +Will ne'er maintain a monarch's state, +And those who cruel deeds advise +Must perish when their master dies, +Like drivers with their cars o'erthrown +In places rough with root and stone. +The good whose holy lives were spent +On duty's highest laws intent, +With wives and children many a time +Have perished for another's crime. +Hapless are they whose sovereign lord, +Opposed to all, by all abhorred, +Is cruel-hearted, harsh, severe: +Thus might a jackal tend the deer. +Now all the giant race await, +Destroyed by thee, a speedy fate, +Ruled by a king so cruel-souled, +Foolish in heart and uncontrolled. +Think not I fear the sudden blow +That threatens now to lay me low: +I mourn the ruin that I see +Impending o'er thy host and thee. +Me first perchance will Ráma kill, +But soon his hand thy blood will spill. +I die, and if by Ráma slain +And not by thee, I count it gain. +Soon as the hero's face I see +His angry eyes will murder me, +And if on her thy hands thou lay +Thy friends and thou are dead this day. +If with my help thou still must dare +The lady from her lord to tear, +Farewell to all our days are o'er, +Lanká and giants are no more. + In vain, in vain, an earnest friend, + I warn thee, King, and pray. + Thou wilt not to my prayers attend, + Or heed the words I say + So men, when life is fleeting fast + And death's sad hour is nigh, + Heedless and blinded to the last + Reject advice and die." + + + + +Canto XLII. Márícha Transformed. + + +Márícha thus in wild unrest +With bitter words the king addressed. +Then to his giant lord in dread, +"Arise, and let us go," he said. +"Ah, I have met that mighty lord +Armed with his shafts and bow and sword, +And if again that bow he bend +Our lives that very hour will end. +For none that warrior can provoke +And think to fly his deadly stroke. +Like Yáma with his staff is he, +And his dread hand will slaughter thee. +What can I more? My words can find +No passage to thy stubborn mind. +I go, great King, thy task to share, +And may success attend thee there." + + With that reply and bold consent +The giant king was well content. +He strained Márícha to his breast +And thus with joyful words addressed: +"There spoke a hero dauntless still, +Obedient to his master's will, +Márícha's proper self once more: +Some other took thy shape before. +Come, mount my jewelled car that flies. +Will-governed, through the yielding skies. +These asses, goblin-faced, shall bear +Us quickly through the fields of air. +Attract the lady with thy shape, +Then through the wood, at will, escape. +And I, when she has no defence, +Will seize the dame and bear her thence." + + Again Márícha made reply, +Consent and will to signify. +With rapid speed the giants two +From the calm hermit dwelling flew, +Borne in that wondrous chariot, meet +For some great God's celestial seat. +They from their airy path looked down +On many a wood and many a town, +On lake and river, brook and rill, +City and realm and towering hill. +Soon he whom giant hosts obeyed, +Márícha by his side, surveyed +The dark expanse of Dandak wood +Where Ráma's hermit cottage stood. +They left the flying car, whereon +The wealth of gold and jewels shone, +And thus the giant king addressed +Márícha as his hand he pressed: + + "Márícha, look! before our eyes +Round Ráma's home the plantains rise. +His hermitage is now in view: +Quick to the work we came to do!" + + Thus Rávan spoke, Márícha heard +Obedient to his master's word, +Threw off his giant shape and near +The cottage strayed a beauteous deer. +With magic power, by rapid change, +His borrowed form was fair and strange. +A sapphire tipped each horn with light; +His face was black relieved with white. +The turkis and the ruby shed +A glory from his ears and head. +His arching neck was proudly raised, +And lazulites beneath it blazed. +With roseate bloom his flanks were dyed, +And lotus tints adorned his hide. +His shape was fair, compact, and slight; +His hoofs were carven lazulite. +His tail with every changing glow +Displayed the hues of Indra's bow. +With glossy skin so strangely flecked, +With tints of every gem bedecked. +A light o'er Ráma's home he sent, +And through the wood, where'er he went. +The giant clad in that strange dress +That took the soul with loveliness, +To charm the fair Videhan's eyes +With mingled wealth of mineral dyes, +Moved onward, cropping in his way, +The grass and grain and tender spray. +His coat with drops of silver bright, +A form to gaze on with delight, +He raised his fair neck as he went +To browse on bud and filament. +Now in the Cassia grove he strayed, +Now by the cot in plantains' shade. +Slowly and slowly on he came +To catch the glances of the dame, +And the tall deer of splendid hue +Shone full at length in Sítá's view. +He roamed where'er his fancy chose +Where Ráma's leafy cottage rose. +Now near, now far, in careless ease, +He came and went among the trees. +Now with light feet he turned to fly, +Now, reassured, again drew nigh: +Now gambolled close with leap and bound, +Now lay upon the grassy ground: +Now sought the door, devoid of fear, +And mingled with the troop of deer; +Led them a little way, and thence +Again returned with confidence. +Now flying far, now turning back +Emboldened on his former track, +Seeking to win the lady's glance +He wandered through the green expanse. +Then thronging round, the woodland deer +Gazed on his form with wondering fear; +A while they followed where he led, +Then snuffed the tainted gale and fled. +The giant, though he longed to slay +The startled quarry, spared the prey, +And mindful of the shape he wore +To veil his nature, still forbore. +Then Sítá of the glorious eye, +Returning from her task drew nigh; +For she had sought the wood to bring +Each loveliest flower of early spring. +Now would the bright-eyed lady choose +Some gorgeous bud with blending hues, +Now plucked the mango's spray, and now +The bloom from an Asoka bough. +She with her beauteous form, unmeet +For woodland life and lone retreat, +That wondrous dappled deer beheld +Gemmed with rich pearls, unparalleled, +His silver hair the lady saw, +His radiant teeth and lips and jaw, +And gazed with rapture as her eyes +Expanded in their glad surprise. +And when the false deer's glances fell +On her whom Ráma loved so well, +He wandered here and there, and cast +A luminous beauty as he passed; +And Janak's child with strange delight +Kept gazing on the unwonted sight. + + + + +Canto XLIII. The Wondrous Deer. + + +She stooped, her hands with flowers to fill, +But gazed upon the marvel still: +Gazed on its back and sparkling side +Where silver hues with golden vied. +Joyous was she of faultless mould, +With glossy skin like polished gold. +And loudly to her husband cried +And bow-armed Lakshman by his side: +Again, again she called in glee: +"O come this glorious creature see; +Quick, quick, my lord, this deer to view. +And bring thy brother Lakshman too." +As through the wood her clear tones rang, +Swift to her side the brothers sprang. +With eager eyes the grove they scanned, +And saw the deer before them stand. +But doubt was strong in Lakshman's breast, +Who thus his thought and fear expressed: + + "Stay, for the wondrous deer we see +The fiend Márícha's self may be. +Ere now have kings who sought this place +To take their pastime in the chase, +Met from his wicked art defeat, +And fallen slain by like deceit. +He wears, well trained in magic guile, +The figure of a deer a while, +Bright as the very sun, or place +Where dwell the gay Gandharva race. +No deer, O Ráma, e'er was seen +Thus decked with gold and jewels' sheen. +'Tis magic, for the world has ne'er, +Lord of the world, shown aught so fair." + + But Sítá of the lovely smile, +A captive to the giant's wile, +Turned Lakshman's prudent speech aside +And thus with eager words replied: +"My honoured lord, this deer I see +With beauty rare enraptures me. +Go, chief of mighty arm, and bring +For my delight this precious thing. +Fair creatures of the woodland roam +Untroubled near our hermit home. +The forest cow and stag are there, +The fawn, the monkey, and the bear, +Where spotted deer delight to play, +And strong and beauteous Kinnars(494) stray. +But never, as they wandered by, +Has such a beauty charmed mine eye +As this with limbs so fair and slight, +So gentle, beautiful and bright. +O see, how fair it is to view +With jewels of each varied hue: +Bright as the rising moon it glows, +Lighting the wood where'er it goes. +Ah me, what form and grace are there! +Its limbs how fine, its hues how fair! +Transcending all that words express, +It takes my soul with loveliness. +O, if thou would, to please me, strive +To take the beauteous thing alive, +How thou wouldst gaze with wondering eyes +Delighted on the lovely prize! +And when our woodland life is o'er, +And we enjoy our realm once more, +The wondrous animal will grace +The chambers of my dwelling-place, +And a dear treasure will it be +To Bharat and the queens and me, +And all with rapture and amaze +Upon its heavenly form will gaze. +But if the beauteous deer, pursued, +Thine arts to take it still elude, +Strike it, O chieftain, and the skin +Will be a treasure, laid within. +O, how I long my time to pass +Sitting upon the tender grass, +With that soft fell beneath me spread +Bright with its hair of golden thread! +This strong desire, this eager will, +Befits a gentle lady ill: +But when I first beheld, its look +My breast with fascination took. +See, golden hair its flank adorns, +And sapphires tip its branching horns. +Resplendent as the lunar way, +Or the first blush of opening day, +With graceful form and radiant hue +It charmed thy heart, O chieftain, too." + + He heard her speech with willing ear, +He looked again upon the deer. +Its lovely shape his breast beguiled +Moved by the prayer of Janak's child, +And yielding for her pleasure's sake, +To Lakshman Ráma turned and spake: + + "Mark, Lakshman, mark how Sítá's breast +With eager longing is possessed. +To-day this deer of wondrous breed +Must for his passing beauty bleed, +Brighter than e'er in Nandan strayed, +Or Chaitraratha's heavenly shade. +How should the groves of earth possess +Such all-surpassing loveliness! +The hair lies smooth and bright and fine, +Or waves upon each curving line, +And drops of living gold bedeck +The beauty of his side and neck. +O look, his crimson tongue between +His teeth like flaming fire is seen, +Flashing, whene'er his lips he parts, +As from a cloud the lightning darts. +O see his sunlike forehead shine +With emerald tints and almandine, +While pearly light and roseate glow +Of shells adorn his neck below. +No eye on such a deer can rest +But soft enchantment takes the breast: +No man so fair a thing behold +Ablaze with light of radiant gold, +Celestial, bright with jewels' sheen, +Nor marvel when his eyes have seen. +A king equipped with bow and shaft +Delights in gentle forest craft, +And as in boundless woods he strays +The quarry for the venison slays. +There as he wanders with his train +A store of wealth he oft may gain. +He claims by right the precious ore, +He claims the jewels' sparkling store. +Such gains are dearer in his eyes +Than wealth that in his chamber lies, +The dearest things his spirit knows, +Dear as the bliss which Sukra chose. +But oft the rich expected gain +Which heedless men pursue in vain, +The sage, who prudent counsels know, +Explain and in a moment show. +This best of deer, this gem of all, +To yield his precious spoils must fall, +And tender Sítá by my side +Shall sit upon the golden hide. +Ne'er could I find so rich a coat +On spotted deer or sheep or goat. +No buck or antelope has such, +So bright to view, so soft to touch. +This radiant deer and one on high +That moves in glory through the sky, +Alike in heavenly beauty are, +One on the earth and one a star. +But, brother, if thy fears be true, +And this bright creature that we view +Be fierce Márícha in disguise, +Then by this hand he surely dies. +For that dire fiend who spurns control +With bloody hand and cruel soul, +Has roamed this forest and dismayed +The holiest saints who haunt the shade. +Great archers, sprung of royal race, +Pursuing in the wood the chase, +Have fallen by his wicked art, +And now my shaft shall strike his heart. +Vatápi, by his magic power +Made heedless saints his flesh devour, +Then, from within their frames he rent +Forth bursting from imprisonment. +But once his art in senseless pride +Upon the mightiest saint he tried, +Agastya's self, and caused him taste +The baited meal before him placed. +Vátápi, when the rite was o'er, +Would take the giant form he wore, +But Saint Agastya knew his wile +And checked the giant with smile. +"Vátápi, thou with cruel spite +Hast conquered many an anchorite +The noblest of the Bráhman caste,-- +And now thy ruin comes at last." +Now if my power he thus defies, +This giant, like Vátápi dies, +Daring to scorn a man like me, +A self subduing devotee. +Yea, as Agastya slew the foe, +My hand shall lay Márícha low +Clad in thine arms thy bow in hand, +To guard the Maithil lady stand, +With watchful eye and thoughtful breast +Keeping each word of my behest +I go, and hunting through the brake +This wondrous deer will bring or take. +Yea surely I will bring the spoil +Returning from my hunter's toil +See, Lakshman how my consort's eyes +Are longing for the lovely prize. +This day it falls, that I may win +The treasure of so fair a skin. +Do thou and Sítá watch with care +Lest danger seize you unaware. +Swift from my bow one shaft will fly; +The stricken deer will fall and die +Then quickly will I strip the game +And bring the trophy to my dame. + Jatáyus, guardian good and wise, + Our old and faithful friend, + The best and strongest bird that flies, + His willing aid will lend + The Maithil lady well protect, + For every chance provide, + And in thy tender care suspect + A foe on every side." + + + + +Canto XLIV. Márícha's Death. + + +Thus having warned his brother bold +He grasped his sword with haft of gold, +And bow with triple flexure bent, +His own delight and ornament; +Then bound two quivers to his side, +And hurried forth with eager stride. +Soon as the antlered monarch saw +The lord of monarchs near him draw, +A while with trembling heart he fled, +Then turned and showed his stately head. +With sword and bow the chief pursued +Where'er the fleeing deer he viewed +Sending from dell and lone recess +The splendour of his loveliness. +Now full in view the creature stood +Now vanished in the depth of wood; +Now running with a languid flight, +Now like a meteor lost to sight. +With trembling limbs away he sped; +Then like the moon with clouds o'erspread +Gleamed for a moment bright between +The trees, and was again unseen. +Thus in the magic deer's disguise +Márícha lured him to the prize, +And seen a while, then lost to view, +Far from his cot the hero drew. +Still by the flying game deceived +The hunter's heart was wroth and grieved, +And wearied with the fruitless chase +He stayed him in a shady place. +Again the rover of the night +Enraged the chieftain, full in sight, +Slow moving in the coppice near, +Surrounded by the woodland deer. +Again the hunter sought the game +That seemed a while to court his aim: +But seized again with sudden dread, +Beyond his sight the creature fled. +Again the hero left the shade, +Again the deer before him strayed. +With surer hope and stronger will +The hunter longed his prey to kill. +Then as his soul impatient grew, +An arrow from his side he drew, +Resplendent at the sunbeam's glow, +The crusher of the smitten foe. +With skillful heed the mighty lord +Fixed well shaft and strained the cord. +Upon the deer his eyes he bent, +And like a fiery serpent went +The arrow Brahma's self had framed, +Alive with sparks that hissed and flamed, +Like Indra's flashing levin, true +To the false deer the missile flew +Cleaving his flesh that wonderous dart +Stood quivering in Márícha's heart. +Scarce from the ground one foot he sprang, +Then stricken fell with deadly pang. +Half lifeless, as he pressed the ground, +He gave a roar of awful sound +And ere the wounded giant died +He threw his borrowed form aside +Remembering still his lord's behest +He pondered in his heart how best +Sítá might send her guard away, +And Rávan seize the helpless prey. +The monster knew the time was nigh, +And called aloud with eager cry, +"Ho, Sítá, Lakshman" and the tone +He borrowed was like Ráma's own. + + So by that matchless arrow cleft, +The deer's bright form Márícha left, +Resumed his giant shape and size +And closed in death his languid eyes. +When Ráma saw his awful foe +Gasp, smeared with blood, in deadly throe, +His anxious thoughts to Sítá sped, +And the wise words that Lakshman said, +That this was false Márícha's art, +Returned again upon his heart. +He knew the foe he triumphed o'er +The name of great Márícha bore. +"The fiend," he pondered, 'ere he died, +"Ho, Lakshman! ho, my Sítá!" cried +Ah, if that cry has reached her ear, +How dire must be my darling's fear! +And Lakshman of the mighty arm, +What thinks he in his wild alarm? +As thus he thought in sad surmise, +Each startled hair began to rise, +And when he saw the giant slain +And thought upon that cry again, +His spirit sank and terror pressed +Full sorely on the hero's breast. +Another deer he chased and struck, +He bore away the the fallen buck, +To Janasthán then turned his face +And hastened to his dwelling place. + + + + +Canto XLV. Lakshman's Departure. + + +But Sítá hearing as she thought, +Her husband's cry with anguish fraught, +Called to her guardian, "Lakshman, run +And in the wood seek Raghu's son. +Scarce can my heart retain its throne, +Scarce can my life be called mine own, +As all my powers and senses fail +At that long, loud and bitter wail. +Haste to the wood with all thy speed +And save thy brother in his need. +Go, save him in the distant glade +Where loud he calls, for timely aid. +He falls beneath some giant foe-- +A bull whom lions overthrow." + + Deaf to her prayer, no step he stirred +Obedient to his mother's word, +Then Janak's child, with ire inflamed, +In words of bitter scorn exclaimed exclaimed + + "Sumitrá's son, a friend in show, +Thou art in truth thy brother's foe, +Who canst at such any hour deny +Thy succour and neglect his cry. +Yes, Lakshman, smit with love of me +Thy brother's death thou fain wouldst see. +This guilty love thy heart has swayed +And makes thy feet so loth to aid. +Thou hast no love for Ráma, no: +Thy joy is vice, thy thoughts are low +Hence thus unmoved thou yet canst stay +While my dear lord is far away. +If aught of ill my lord betide +Who led thee here, thy chief and guide, +Ah, what will be my hapless fate +Left in the wild wood desolate!" + + Thus spoke the lady sad with fear, +With many a sigh and many a tear, +Still trembling like a captured doe: +And Lakshman spoke to calm her woe: + + "Videhan Queen, be sure of this,-- +And at the thought thy fear dismiss,-- +Thy husband's mightier power defies +All Gods and angels of the skies, +Gandharvas, and the sons of light, +Serpents, and rovers of the night. +I tell thee, of the sons of earth, +Of Gods who boast celestial birth, +Of beasts and birds and giant hosts, +Of demigods, Gandharvas, ghosts, +Of awful fiends, O thou most fair, +There lives not one whose heart would dare +To meet thy Ráma in the fight, +Like Indra's self unmatched in might. +Such idle words thou must not say +Thy Ráma lives whom none may slay. +I will not, cannot leave thee here +In the wild wood till he be near. +The mightiest strength can ne'er withstand +His eager force, his vigorous hand. +No, not the triple world allied +With all the immortal Gods beside. +Dismiss thy fear, again take heart, +Let all thy doubt and woe depart. +Thy lord, be sure, will soon be here +And bring thee back that best of deer. +Not his, not his that mournful cry, +Nor haply came it from the sky. +Some giant's art was busy there +And framed a castle based on air. +A precious pledge art thou, consigned +To me by him of noblest mind, +Nor can I fairest dame, forsake +The pledge which Ráma bade me take. +Upon our heads, O Queen, we drew +The giants' hate when Ráma slew +Their chieftain Khara, and the shade +Of Janasthán in ruin laid. +Through all this mighty wood they rove +With varied cries from grove to grove +On rapine bent they wander here: +But O, dismiss thy causeless fear." + + Bright flashed her eye as Lakshman spoke +And forth her words of fury broke +Upon her truthful guardian, flung +With bitter taunts that pierced and stung: +"Shame on such false compassion, base +Defiler of thy glorious race! +'Twere joyous sight I ween to thee +My lord in direst strait to see. +Thou knowest Ráma sore bested, +Or word like this thou ne'er hadst said. +No marvel if we find such sin +In rivals false to kith and kin. +Wretches like thee of evil kind, +Concealing crime with crafty mind. +Thou, wretch, thine aid wilt still deny, +And leave my lord alone to die. +Has love of me unnerved thy hand, +Or Bharat's art this ruin planned? +But be the treachery his or thine, +In vain, in vain the base design. +For how shall I, the chosen bride +Of dark-hued Ráma, lotus-eyed, +The queen who once called Ráma mine, +To love of other men decline? +Believe me, Lakshman, Ráma's wife +Before thine eyes will quit this life, +And not a moment will she stay +If her dear lord have passed away." + + The lady's bitter speech, that stirred +Each hair upon his frame, he heard. +With lifted hands together laid, +His calm reply he gently made: + + "No words have I to answer now: +My deity, O Queen, art thou. +But 'tis no marvel, dame, to find +Such lack of sense in womankind. +Throughout this world, O Maithil dame, +Weak women's hearts are still the same. +Inconstant, urged by envious spite, +They sever friends and hate the right. +I cannot brook, Videhan Queen, +Thy words intolerably keen. +Mine ears thy fierce reproaches pain +As boiling water seethes the brain. +And now to bear me witness all +The dwellers in the wood I call, +That, when with words of truth I plead, +This harsh reply is all my meed. +Ah, woe is thee! Ah, grief, that still +Eager to do my brother's will, +Mourning thy woman's nature, I +Must see thee doubt my truth and die. +I fly to Ráma's side, and Oh, +May bliss attend thee while I go! +May all attendant wood-gods screen +Thy head from harm, O large-eyed Queen! +And though dire omens meet my sight +And fill my soul with wild affright, +May I return in peace and see +The son of Raghu safe with thee!" + + The child of Janak heard him speak, +And the hot tear-drops down her cheek, +Increasing to a torrent, ran, +As thus once more the dame began: +"O Lakshman, if I widowed be +Godávarí's flood shall cover me, +Or I will die by cord, or leap, +Life weary, from yon rocky steep; +Or deadly poison will I drink, +Or 'neath the kindled flames will sink, +But never, reft of Ráma, can +Consent to touch a meaner man." + + The Maithil dame with many sighs, +And torrents pouring from her eyes, +The faithful Lakshman thus addressed, +And smote her hands upon her breast. + >Sumitrá's son, o'erwhelmed by fears, + Looked on the large-eyed queen: + He saw that flood of burning tears, + He saw that piteous mien. + He yearned sweet comfort to afford, + He strove to soothe her pain; + But to the brother of her lord + She spoke no word again. + His reverent hands once more he raised, + His head he slightly bent, + Upon her face he sadly gazed, + And then toward Ráma went. + + + + +Canto XLVI. The Guest. + + +The angry Lakshman scarce could brook +Her bitter words, her furious look. +With dark forebodings in his breast +To Ráma's side he quickly pressed. + + Then ten necked Rávan saw the time +Propitious for his purposed crime. +A mendicant in guise he came +And stood before the Maithil dame. +His garb was red, with tufted hair +And sandalled feet a shade he bare, +And from the fiend's left shoulder slung +A staff and water-vessel hung. +Near to the lovely dame he drew, +While both the chiefs were far from view, +As darkness takes the evening air +When neither sun nor moon is there. +He bent his eye upon the dame, +A princess fair, of spotless fame: +So might some baleful planet be +Near Moon-forsaken Rohiní.(495) +As the fierce tyrant nearer drew, +The trees in Janasthán that grew +Waved not a leaf for fear and woe, +And the hushed wind forbore to blow. +Godávarí's waters as they fled, +Saw his fierce eye-balls flashing red, +And from each swiftly-gliding wave +A melancholy murmur gave. +Then Rávan, when his eager eye +Beheld the longed-for moment nigh, +In mendicant's apparel dressed +Near to the Maithil lady pressed. +In holy guise, a fiend abhorred, +He found her mourning for her lord. +Thus threatening draws Sanischar(496) nigh +To Chitrá(497) in the evening sky; +Thus the deep well by grass concealed +Yawns treacherous in the verdant field. +He stood and looked upon the dame +Of Ráma, queen of spotless fame +With her bright teeth and each fair limb +Like the full moon she seemed to him, +Sitting within her leafy cot, +Weeping for woe that left her not. +Thus, while with joy his pulses beat, +He saw her in her lone retreat, +Eyed like the lotus, fair to view +In silken robes of amber hue. +Pierced to the core by Káma's dart +He murmured texts with lying art, +And questioned with a soft address +The lady in her loneliness. +The fiend essayed with gentle speech +The heart of that fair dame to reach, +Pride of the worlds, like Beauty's Queen +Without her darling lotus seen: + + "O thou whose silken robes enfold +A form more fair than finest gold, +With lotus garland on thy head, +Like a sweet spring with bloom o'erspread, +Who art thou, fair one, what thy name, +Beauty, or Honour, Fortune, Fame, +Spirit, or nymph, or Queen of love +Descended from thy home above? +Bright as the dazzling jasmine shine +Thy small square teeth in level line. +Like two black stars aglow with light +Thine eyes are large and pure and bright. +Thy charms of smile and teeth and hair +And winning eyes, O thou most fair, +Steal all my spirit, as the flow +Of rivers mines the bank below. +How bright, how fine each flowing tress! +How firm those orbs beneath thy dress! +That dainty waist with ease were spanned, +Sweet lady, by a lover's hand. +Mine eyes, O beauty, ne'er have seen +Goddess or nymph so fair of mien, +Or bright Gandharva's heavenly dame, +Or woman of so perfect frame. +In youth's soft prime thy years are few, +And earth has naught so fair to view. +I marvel one like thee in face +Should make the woods her dwelling-place. +Leave, lady, leave this lone retreat +In forest wilds for thee unmeet, +Where giants fierce and strong assume +All shapes and wander in the gloom. +These dainty feet were formed to tread +Some palace floor with carpets spread, +Or wander in trim gardens where +Each opening bud perfumes the air. +The richest robe thy form should deck, +The rarest gems adorn thy neck, +The sweetest wreath should bind thy hair, +The noblest lord thy bed should share. +Art thou akin, O fair of form, +To Rudras,(498) or the Gods of storm,(499) +Or to the glorious Vasus(500)? How +Can less than these be bright as thou? +But never nymph or heavenly maid +Or Goddess haunts this gloomy shade. +Here giants roam, a savage race; +What led thee to so dire a place? +Here monkeys leap from tree to tree, +And bears and tigers wander free; +Here ravening lions prowl, and fell +Hyenas in the thickets yell, +And elephants infuriate roam, +Mighty and fierce, their woodland home. +Dost thou not dread, so soft and fair, +Tiger and lion, wolf and bear? +Hast thou, O beauteous dame, no fear +In the wild wood so lone and drear? +Whose and who art thou? whence and why +Sweet lady, with no guardian nigh, +Dost thou this awful forest tread +By giant bands inhabited?" + + The praise the high-souled Rávan spoke +No doubt within her bosom woke. +His saintly look and Bráhman guise +Deceived the lady's trusting eyes. +With due attention on the guest +Her hospitable rites she pressed. +She bade the stranger to a seat, +And gave him water for his feet. +The bowl and water-pot he bare, +And garb which wandering Bráhmans wear + Forbade a doubt to rise. +Won by his holy look she deemed +The stranger even as he seemed + To her deluded eyes. +Intent on hospitable care, +She brought her best of woodland fare, + And showed her guest a seat. +She bade the saintly stranger lave +His feet in water which she gave, + And sit and rest and eat. +He kept his eager glances bent +On her so kindly eloquent, +Wife of the noblest king; +And longed in heart to steal her thence, +Preparing by the dire offence, +Death on his head to bring. +The lady watched with anxious face +For Ráma coming from the chase + With Lakshman by his side: +But nothing met her wandering glance +Save the wild forest's green expanse + Extending far and wide. + + + + +Canto XLVII. Rávan's Wooing. + + +As, clad in mendicant's disguise, +He questioned thus his destined prize, +She to the seeming saintly man +The story of her life began. +"My guest is he," she thought, "and I, +To 'scape his curse, must needs reply:" +"Child of a noble sire I spring +From Janak, fair Videha's king. +May every good be thine! my name +Is Sítá, Ráma's cherished dame. +Twelve winters with my lord I spent +Most happily with sweet content +In the rich home of Raghu's line, +And every earthly joy was mine. +Twelve pleasant years flew by, and then +His peers advised the king of men, +Ráma, my lord, to consecrate +Joint ruler of his ancient state. +But when the rites were scarce begun, +To consecrate Ikshváku's son, +The queen Kaikeyí, honoured dame, +Sought of her lord an ancient claim. +Her plea of former service pressed, +And made him grant her new request, +To banish Ráma to the wild +And consecrate instead her child. +This double prayer on him, the best +And truest king, she strongly pressed: +"Mine eyes in sleep I will not close, +Nor eat, nor drink, nor take repose. +This very day my death shall bring +If Ráma be anointed king." +As thus she spake in envious ire, +The aged king, my husband's sire, +Besought with fitting words; but she +Was cold and deaf to every plea. +As yet my days are few; eighteen +The years of life that I have seen; +And Ráma, best of all alive, +Has passed of years a score and five-- +Ráma the great and gentle, through +All region famed as pure and true, +Large-eyed and mighty-armed and tall, +With tender heart that cares for all. +But Dasaratha, led astray +By woman's wile and passion's sway, +By his strong love of her impelled, +The consecrating rites withheld. +When, hopeful of the promised grace, +My Ráma sought his father's face, +The queen Kaikeyí, ill at ease, +Spoke to my lord brief words like these: +"Hear, son of Raghu, hear from me +The words thy father says to thee: +"I yield this day to Bharat's hand, +Free from all foes, this ancient land. +Fly from this home no longer thine, +And dwell in woods five years and nine. +Live in the forest and maintain +Mine honour pure from falsehood's stain.' " +Then Ráma spoke, untouched by dread: +"Yea, it shall be as thou hast said." +And answered, faithful to his vows, +Obeying Dasaratha's spouse: +"The offered realm I would not take, +But still keep true the words he spake." +Thus, gentle Bráhman, Ráma still +Clung to his vow with firmest will. +And valiant Lakshman, dear to fame, +His brother by a younger dame, +Bold victor in the deadly fray, +Would follow Ráma on his way. +On sternest vows his heart was set, +And he, a youthful anchoret, +Bound up in twisted coil his hair +And took the garb which hermits wear; +Then with his bow to guard us, he +Went forth with Ráma and with me. +By Queen Kaikeyí's art bereft +The kingdom and our home we left, +And bound by stern religious vows +We sought this shade of forest boughs. +Now, best of Bráhmans, here we tread +These pathless regions dark and dread. +But come, refresh thy soul, and rest +Here for a while an honoured guest, +For he, my lord, will soon be here +With fresh supply of woodland cheer, +Large store of venison of the buck, +Or some great boar his hand has struck. +Meanwhile, O stranger, grant my prayer: +Thy name, thy race, thy birth declare, +And why with no companion thou +Roamest in Dandak forest now." + + Thus questioned Sítá, Ráma's dame. +Then fierce the stranger's answer came: +"Lord of the giant legions, he +From whom celestial armies flee,-- +The dread of hell and earth and sky, +Rávan the Rákshas king am I. +Now when thy gold-like form I view +Arrayed in silks of amber hue, +My love, O thou of perfect mould, +For all my dames is dead and cold. +A thousand fairest women, torn +From many a land my home adorn. +But come, loveliest lady, be +The queen of every dame and me. +My city Lanká, glorious town, +Looks from a mountain's forehead down +Where ocean with his flash and foam +Beats madly on mine island home. +With me, O Sítá, shalt thou rove +Delighted through each shady grove, +Nor shall thy happy breast retain +Fond memory of this life of pain. +In gay attire, a glittering band, +Five thousand maids shall round thee stand, +And serve thee at thy beck and sign, +If thou, fair Sítá, wilt be mine." + + Then forth her noble passion broke +As thus in turn the lady spoke: +"Me, me the wife of Ráma, him +The lion lord with lion's limb, +Strong as the sea, firm as the rock, +Like Indra in the battle shock. +The lord of each auspicious sign, +The glory of his princely line, +Like some fair Bodh tree strong and tall, +The noblest and the best of all, +Ráma, the heir of happy fate +Who keeps his word inviolate, +Lord of the lion gait, possessed +Of mighty arm and ample chest, +Ráma the lion-warrior, him +Whose moon bright face no fear can dim, +Ráma, his bridled passions' lord, +The darling whom his sire adored,-- +Me, me the true and loving dame +Of Ráma, prince of deathless fame-- +Me wouldst thou vainly woo and press? +A jackal woo a lioness! +Steal from the sun his glory! such +Thy hope Lord Ráma's wife to touch. +Ha! Thou hast seen the trees of gold, +The sign which dying eyes behold, +Thus seeking, weary of thy life, +To win the love of Ráma's wife. +Fool! wilt thou dare to rend away +The famished lion's bleeding prey, +Or from the threatening jaws to take +The fang of some envenomed snake? +What, wouldst thou shake with puny hand +Mount Mandar,(501) towering o'er the land, +Put poison to thy lips and think +The deadly cup a harmless drink? +With pointed needle touch thine eye, +A razor to thy tongue apply, +Who wouldst pollute with impious touch +The wife whom Ráma loves so much? +Be round thy neck a millstone tied, +And swim the sea from side to side; +Or raising both thy hands on high +Pluck sun and moon from yonder sky; +Or let the kindled flame be pressed, +Wrapt in thy garment, to thy breast; +More wild the thought that seeks to win +Ráma's dear wife who knows not sin. +The fool who thinks with idle aim +To gain the love of Ráma's dame, +With dark and desperate footing makes +His way o'er points of iron stakes. +As Ocean to a bubbling spring, +The lion to a fox, the king +Of all the birds that ply the wing + To an ignoble crow +As gold to lead of little price, +As to the drainings of the rice +The drink they quaff in Paradise, + The Amrit's heavenly flow, +As sandal dust with perfume sweet +Is to the mire that soils our feet, + A tiger to a cat, +As the white swan is to the owl, +The peacock to the waterfowl, + An eagle to a bat, +Such is my lord compared with thee; +And when with bow and arrows he, +Mighty as Indra's self shall see + His foeman, armed to slay, +Thou, death-doomed like the fly that sips +The oil that on the altar drips, +Shalt cast the morsel from thy lips + And lose thy half-won prey." +Thus in high scorn the lady flung +The biting arrows of her tongue +In bitter words that pierced and stung + The rover of the night. +She ceased. Her gentle cheek grew pale, +Her loosened limbs began to fail, +And like a plantain in the gale + She trembled with affright. +He terrible as Death stood nigh, +And watched with fierce exulting eye + The fear that shook her frame. +To terrify the lady more, +He counted all his triumphs o'er, +Proclaimed the titles that he bore, + His pedigree and name. + + + + +Canto XLVIII. Rávan's Speech. + + +With knitted brow and furious eye +The stranger made his fierce reply: +"In me O fairest dame, behold +The brother of the King of Gold. +The Lord of Ten Necks my title, named +Rávan, for might and valour famed. +Gods and Gandharva hosts I scare; +Snakes, spirits, birds that roam the air +Fly from my coming, wild with fear, +Trembling like men when Death is near. +Vaisravan once, my brother, wrought +To ire, encountered me and fought, +But yielding to superior might +Fled from his home in sore affright. +Lord of the man-drawn chariot, still +He dwells on famed Kailása's hill. +I made the vanquished king resign +The glorious car which now is mine,-- +Pushpak, the far-renowned, that flies +Will-guided through the buxom skies. +Celestial hosts by Indra led +Flee from my face disquieted, +And where my dreaded feet appear +The wind is hushed or breathless is fear. +Where'er I stand, where'er I go +The troubled waters cease to flow, +Each spell-bound wave is mute and still +And the fierce sun himself is chill. +Beyond the sea my Lanká stands +Filled with fierce forms and giant bands, +A glorious city fair to see +As Indra's Amarávatí. +A towering height of solid wall, +Flashing afar, surrounds it all, +Its golden courts enchant the sight, +And gates aglow with lazulite. +Steeds, elephants, and cars are there, +And drums' loud music fills the air, +Fair trees in lovely gardens grow +Whose boughs with varied fruitage glow. +Thou, beauteous Queen, with me shalt dwell +In halls that suit a princess well, +Thy former fellows shall forget +Nor think of women with regret, +No earthly joy thy soul shall miss, +And take its fill of heavenly bliss. +Of mortal Ráma think no more, +Whose terms of days will soon be o'er. +King Dasaratha looked in scorn +On Ráma though the eldest born, +Sent to the woods the weakling fool, +And set his darling son to rule. +What, O thou large-eyed dame, hast thou +To do with fallen Ráma now, +From home and kingdom forced to fly, +A wretched hermit soon to die? +Accept thy lover, nor refuse +The giant king who fondly woos. +O listen, nor reject in scorn +A heart by Káma's arrows torn. +If thou refuse to hear my prayer, +Of grief and coming woe beware; +For the sad fate will fall on thee +Which came on hapless Urvasí, +When with her foot she chanced to touch +Purúravas, and sorrowed much.(502) +My little finger raised in fight +Were more than match for Ráma's might. +O fairest, blithe and happy be +With him whom fortune sends to thee." + + Such were the words the giant said, +And Sítá's angry eyes were red. +She answered in that lonely place +The monarch of the giant race: + + "Art thou the brother of the Lord +Of Gold by all the world adored, +And sprung of that illustrious seed +Wouldst now attempt this evil deed? +I tell thee, impious Monarch, all +The giants by thy sin will fall, +Whose reckless lord and king thou art, +With foolish mind and lawless heart. +Yea, one may hope to steal the wife +Of Indra and escape with life. +But he who Ráma's dame would tear +From his loved side must needs despair. +Yea, one may steal fair Sachí, dame +Of Him who shoots the thunder flame, +May live successful in his aim + And length of day may see; +But hope, O giant King, in vain, +Though cups of Amrit thou may drain, +To shun the penalty and pain + Of wronging one like me." + + + + +Canto XLIX. The Rape Of Sítá. + + +The Rákshas monarch, thus addressed, +His hands a while together pressed, +And straight before her startled eyes +Stood monstrous in his giant size. +Then to the lady, with the lore +Of eloquence, he spoke once more: +"Thou scarce," he cried, "hast heard aright +The glories of my power and might. +I borne sublime in air can stand +And with these arms upheave the land, +Drink the deep flood of Ocean dry +And Death with conquering force defy, +Pierce the great sun with furious dart +And to her depths cleave earth apart. +See, thou whom love and beauty blind, +I wear each form as wills my mind." + + As thus he spake in burning ire +His glowing eyes were red with fire. +His gentle garb aside was thrown +And all his native shape was shown. +Terrific, monstrous, wild, and dread +As the dark God who rules the dead, +His fiery eyes in fury rolled, +His limbs were decked with glittering gold. +Like some dark cloud the monster showed, +And his fierce breast with fury glowed. +The ten-faced rover of the night, +With twenty arms exposed to sight, +His saintly guise aside had laid +And all his giant height displayed. +Attired in robes of crimson dye +He stood and watched with angry eye +The lady in her bright array +Resplendent as the dawn of day +When from the east the sunbeams break, +And to the dark-haired lady spake: +"If thou would call that lord thine own +Whose fame in every world is known, +Look kindly on my love, and be +Bride of a consort meet for thee. +With me let blissful years be spent, +For ne'er thy choice shalt thou repent. +No deed of mine shall e'er displease +My darling as she lives at ease. +Thy love for mortal man resign, +And to a worthier lord incline. +Ah foolish lady, seeming wise +In thine own weak and partial eyes, +By what fair graces art thou held +To Ráma from his realm expelled? +Misfortunes all his life attend, +And his brief days are near their end. +Unworthy prince, infirm of mind! +A woman spoke and he resigned +His home and kingdom and withdrew +From troops of friends and retinue. +And sought this forest dark and dread +By savage beasts inhabited." + + Thus Rávan urged the lady meet +For love, whose words were soft and sweet. +Near and more near the giant pressed +As love's hot fire inflamed his breast. +The leader of the giant crew +His arm around the lady threw: +Thus Budha(503) with ill-omened might +Steals Rohiní's delicious light. +One hand her glorious tresses grasped, +One with its ruthless pressure clasped +The body of his lovely prize, +The Maithil dame with lotus eyes. +The silvan Gods in wild alarm +Marked his huge teeth and ponderous arm, +And from that Death-like presence fled, +Of mountain size and towering head. +Then seen was Rávan's magic car +Aglow with gold which blazed afar,-- +The mighty car which asses drew +Thundering as it onward flew. +He spared not harsh rebuke to chide +The lady as she moaned and cried, +Then with his arm about her waist +His captive in the car he placed. +In vain he threatened: long and shrill +Rang out her lamentation still, +O Ráma! which no fear could stay: +But her dear lord was far away. +Then rose the fiend, and toward the skies +Bore his poor helpless struggling prize: +Hurrying through the air above +The dame who loathed his proffered love. +So might a soaring eagle bear +A serpent's consort through the air. +As on he bore her through the sky +She shrieked aloud her bitter cry. +As when some wretch's lips complain +In agony of maddening pain; +"O Lakshman, thou whose joy is still +To do thine elder brother's will, +This fiend, who all disguises wears, +From Ráma's side his darling tears. +Thou who couldst leave bliss, fortune, all, +Yea life itself at duty's call, +Dost thou not see this outrage done +To hapless me, O Raghu's son? +'Tis thine, O victor of the foe, +To bring the haughtiest spirit low, +How canst thou such an outrage see +And let the guilty fiend go free? +Ah, seldom in a moment's time +Comes bitter fruit of sin and crime, +But in the day of harvest pain +Comes like the ripening of the grain. +So thou whom fate and folly lead +To ruin for this guilty deed, +Shalt die by Ráma's arm ere long +A dreadful death for hideous wrong. +Ah, too successful in their ends +Are Queen Kaikeyí and her friends, +When virtuous Ráma, dear to fame, +Is mourning for his ravished dame. +Ah me, ah me! a long farewell +To lawn and glade and forest dell +In Janasthán's wild region, where +The Cassia trees are bright and fair +With all your tongues to Ráma say +That Rávan bears his wife away. +Farewell, a long farewell to thee, +O pleasant stream Godávarí, +Whose rippling waves are ever stirred +By many a glad wild water-bird! +All ye to Ráma's ear relate +The giant's deed and Sítá's fate. +O all ye Gods who love this ground +Where trees of every leaf abound, +Tell Ráma I am stolen hence, +I pray you all with reverence. +On all the living things beside +That these dark boughs and coverts hide, +Ye flocks of birds, ye troops of deer, +I call on you my prayer to hear. +All ye to Ráma's ear proclaim +That Rávan tears away his dame +With forceful arms,--his darling wife, +Dearer to Ráma than his life. +O, if he knew I dwelt in hell, +My mighty lord, I know full well, +Would bring me, conqueror, back to-day, +Though Yáma's self reclaimed his prey." + + Thus from the air the lady sent +With piteous voice her last lament, +And as she wept she chanced to see +The vulture on a lofty tree. +As Rávan bore her swiftly by, +On the dear bird she bent her eye, +And with a voice which woe made faint +Renewed to him her wild complaint: + + "O see, the king who rules the race +Of giants, cruel, fierce and base, +Rávan the spoiler bears me hence +The helpless prey of violence. +This fiend who roves in midnight shade +By thee, dear bird, can ne'er be stayed, +For he is armed and fierce and strong +Triumphant in the power to wrong. +For thee remains one only task, +To do, kind friend, the thing I ask. +To Ráma's ear by thee be borne +How Sítá from her home is torn, +And to the valiant Lakshman tell +The giant's deed and what befell." + + + + +Canto L. Jatáyus. + + +The vulture from his slumber woke +And heard the words which Sítá spoke +He raised his eye and looked on her, +Looked on her giant ravisher. +That noblest bird with pointed beak, +Majestic as a mountain peak, +High on the tree addressed the king +Of giants, wisely counselling: +"O Ten-necked lord, I firmly hold +To faith and laws ordained of old, +And thou, my brother, shouldst refrain +From guilty deeds that shame and stain. +The vulture king supreme in air, +Jatáyus is the name I bear. +Thy captive, known by Sítá's name, +Is the dear consort and the dame +Of Ráma, Dasaratha's heir +Who makes the good of all his care. +Lord of the world in might he vies +With the great Gods of seas and skies. +The law he boasts to keep allows +No king to touch another's spouse, +And, more than all, a prince's dame +High honour and respect may claim. +Back to the earth thy way incline, +Nor think of one who is not thine. +Heroic souls should hold it shame +To stoop to deeds which others blame, +And all respect by them is shown +To dames of others as their own. +Not every case of bliss and gain +The Scripture's holy texts explain, +And subjects, when that light is dim, +Look to their prince and follow him. +The king is bliss and profit, he +Is store of treasures fair to see, +And all the people's fortunes spring, +Their joy and misery, from the king. +If, lord of giant race, thy mind +Be fickle, false, to sin inclined, +How wilt thou kingly place retain? +High thrones in heaven no sinners gain. +The soul which gentle passions sway +Ne'er throws its nobler part away, +Nor will the mansion of the base +Long be the good man's dwelling-place. +Prince Ráma, chief of high renown, +Has wronged thee not in field or town. +Ne'er has he sinned against thee: how +Canst thou resolve to harm him now? +If moved by Súrpanakhá's prayer +The giant Khara sought him there, +And fighting fell with baffled aim, +His and not Ráma's is the blame. +Say, mighty lord of giants, say +What fault on Ráma canst thou lay? +What has the world's great master done +That thou should steal his precious one? +Quick, quick the Maithil dame release; +Let Ráma's consort go in peace, +Lest scorched by his terrific eye +Beneath his wrath thou fall and die +Like Vritra when Lord Indra threw +The lightning flame that smote and slew. +Ah fool, with blinded eyes to take +Home to thy heart a venomed snake! +Ah foolish eyes, too blind to see +That Death's dire coils entangle thee! +The prudent man his strength will spare, +Nor lift a load too great to bear. +Content is he with wholesome food +Which gives him life and strength renewed, +But who would dare the guilty deed +That brings no fame or glorious meed, +Where merit there is none to win +And vengeance soon o'ertakes the sin? +My course of life, Pulastya's son, +For sixty thousand years has run. +Lord of my kind I still maintain +Mine old hereditary reign. +I, worn by years, am older far +Than thou, young lord of bow and car, +In coat of glittering mail encased +And armed with arrows at thy waist, +But not unchallenged shalt thou go, +Or steal the dame without a blow. +Thou canst not, King, before mine eyes +Bear off unchecked thy lovely prize, +Safe as the truth of Scripture bent +By no close logic's argument. +Stay if thy courage let thee, stay +And meet me in the battle fray, +And thou shalt stain the earth with gore +Falling as Khara fell before. +Soon Ráma, clothed in bark, shall smite +Thee, his proud foe, in deadly fight,-- +Ráma, from whom have oft times fled +The Daitya hosts discomfited. +No power have I to kill or slay: +The princely youths are far away, +But soon shalt thou with fearful eye +Struck down beneath their arrows lie. +But while I yet have life and sense, +Thou shalt not, tyrant, carry hence +Fair Sítá, Ramá's honoured queen, +With lotus eyes and lovely mien. +Whate'er the pain, whate'er the cost, +Though in the struggle life be lost, +The will of Raghu's noblest son +And Dasaratha must be done. +Stay for a while, O Rávan, stay, +One hour thy flying car delay, +And from that glorious chariot thou +Shalt fall like fruit from shaken bough, +For I to thee, while yet I live, +The welcome of a foe will give." + + + + +Canto LI. The Combat. + + +Rávan's red eyes in fury rolled: +Bright with his armlets' flashing gold, +In high disdain, by passion stirred +He rushed against the sovereign bird. +With clash and din and furious blows +Of murderous battle met the foes: +Thus urged by winds two clouds on high +Meet warring in the stormy sky. +Then fierce the dreadful combat raged +As fiend and bird in war engaged, +As if two winged mountains sped +To dire encounter overhead. +Keen pointed arrows thick and fast, +In never ceasing fury cast, +Rained hurtling on the vulture king +And smote him on the breast and wing. +But still that noblest bird sustained +The cloud of shafts which Rávan rained, +And with strong beak and talons bent +The body of his foeman rent. +Then wild with rage the ten-necked king +Laid ten swift arrows on his string,-- +Dread as the staff of Death were they, +So terrible and keen to slay. +Straight to his ear the string he drew, +Straight to the mark the arrows flew, +And pierced by every iron head +The vulture's mangled body bled. +One glance upon the car he bent +Where Sítá wept with shrill lament, +Then heedless of his wounds and pain +Rushed at the giant king again. +Then the brave vulture with the stroke +Of his resistless talons broke +The giant's shafts and bow whereon +The fairest pearls and jewels shone. +The monster paused, by rage unmanned: +A second bow soon armed his hand, +Whence pointed arrows swift and true +In hundreds, yea in thousands, flew. +The monarch of the vultures, plied +With ceaseless darts on every side, +Showed like a bird that turns to rest +Close covered by the branch-built nest. +He shook his pinions to repel +The storm of arrows as it fell; +Then with his talons snapped in two +The mighty bow which Rávan drew. +Next with terrific wing he smote +So fiercely on the giant's coat, +The harness, glittering with the glow +Of fire, gave way beneath the blow. +With storm of murderous strokes he beat +The harnessed asses strong and fleet,-- +Each with a goblin's monstrous face +And plates of gold his neck to grace. +Then on the car he turned his ire,-- +The will-moved car that shone like fire, +And broke the glorious chariot, broke +The golden steps and pole and yoke. +The chouris and the silken shade +Like the full moon to view displayed, +Together with the guards who held +Those emblems, to the ground he felled. +The royal vulture hovered o'er +The driver's head, and pierced and tore +With his strong beak and dreaded claws +His mangled brow and cheek and jaws. +With broken car and sundered bow, +His charioteer and team laid low, +One arm about the lady wound, +Sprang the fierce giant to the ground. +Spectators of the combat, all +The spirits viewed the monster's fall: +Lauding the vulture every one +Cried with glad voice, Well done! well done! +But weak with length of days, at last +The vulture's strength was failing fast. +The fiend again assayed to bear +The lady through the fields of air. +But when the vulture saw him rise +Triumphant with his trembling prize, +Bearing the sword that still was left +When other arms were lost or cleft, +Once more, impatient of repose, +Swift from the earth her champion rose, +Hung in the way the fiend would take, +And thus addressing Rávan spake: +"Thou, King of giants, rash and blind, +Wilt be the ruin of thy kind, +Stealing the wife of Ráma, him +With lightning scars on chest and limb. +A mighty host obeys his will +And troops of slaves his palace fill; +His lords of state are wise and true, +Kinsmen has he and retinue. +As thirsty travellers drain the cup, +Thou drinkest deadly poison up. +The rash and careless fool who heeds +No coming fruit of guilty deeds, +A few short years of life shall see, +And perish doomed to death like thee. +Say whither wilt thou fly to loose +Thy neck from Death's entangling noose, +Caught like the fish that finds too late +The hook beneath the treacherous bait? +Never, O King--of this be sure-- +Will Raghu's fiery sons endure, +Terrific in their vengeful rage, +This insult to their hermitage. +Thy guilty hands this day have done +A deed which all reprove and shun, +Unworthly of a noble chief, +The pillage loved by coward thief. +Stay, if thy heart allow thee, stay +And meet me in the deadly fray. +Soon shall thou stain the earth with gore, +And fall as Khara fell before. +The fruits of former deeds o'erpower +The sinner in his dying hour: +And such a fate on thee, O King, +Thy tyranny and madness bring. +Not e'en the Self-existent Lord, +Who reigns by all the worlds adored, +Would dare attempt a guilty deed +Which the dire fruits of crime succeed." + + Thus brave Jatáyus, best of birds, +Addressed the fiend with moving words, +Then ready for the swift attack +Swooped down upon the giant's back. +Down to the bone the talons went; +With many a wound the flesh was rent: +Such blows infuriate drivers deal +Their elephants with pointed steel. +Fixed in his back the strong beak lay, +The talons stripped the flesh away. +He fought with claws and beak and wing, +And tore the long hair of the king. +Still as the royal vulture beat +The giant with his wings and feet, +Swelled the fiend's lips, his body shook +With furious rage too great to brook. +About the Maithil dame he cast +One huge left arm and held her fast. +In furious rage to frenzy fanned +He struck the vulture with his hand. +Jatáyus mocked the vain assay, +And rent his ten left arms away. +Down dropped the severed limbs: anew +Ten others from his body grew: +Thus bright with pearly radiance glide +Dread serpents from the hillock side, +Again in wrath the giant pressed +The lady closer to his breast, +And foot and fist sent blow on blow +In ceaseless fury at the foe. +So fierce and dire the battle, waged +Between those mighty champions, raged: +Here was the lord of giants, there +The noblest of the birds of air. +Thus, as his love of Ráma taught, +The faithful vulture strove and fought. +But Rávan seized his sword and smote +His wings and side and feet and throat. +At mangled side and wing he bled; +He fell, and life was almost fled. +The lady saw her champion lie, +His plumes distained with gory dye, +And hastened to the vulture's side +Grieving as though a kinsman died. + The lord of Lanká's island viewed + The vulture as he lay: + Whose back like some dark cloud was hued, + His breast a paly grey, + Like ashes, when by none renewed, + The flame has died away. + The lady saw with mournful eye, + Her champion press the plain,-- + The royal bird, her true ally + Whom Rávan's might had slain. + Her soft arms locked in strict embrace + Around his neck she kept, + And lovely with her moon-bright face + Bent o'er her friend and wept. + + + + +Canto LII. Rávan's Flight. + + +Fair as the lord of silvery rays +Whom every star in heaven obeys, +The Maithil dame her plaint renewed +O'er him by Rávan's might subdued: +"Dreams, omens, auguries foreshow +Our coming lot of weal and woe: +But thou, my Ráma, couldst not see +The grievous blow which falls on thee. +The birds and deer desert the brakes +And show the path my captor takes, +And thus e'en now this royal bird +Flew to mine aid by pity stirred. +Slain for my sake in death he lies, +The broad-winged rover of the skies. +O Ráma, haste, thine aid I crave: +O Lakshman, why delay to save? +Brave sons of old Ikshváku, hear +And rescue in this hour of fear." + + Her flowery wreath was torn and rent, +Crushed was each sparkling ornament. +She with weak arms and trembling knees +Clung like a creeper to the trees, +And like some poor deserted thing +With wild shrieks made the forest ring. +But swift the giant reached her side, +As loud on Ráma's name she cried. +Fierce as grim Death one hand he laid +Upon her tresses' lovely braid. +"That touch, thou impious King, shall be +The ruin of thy race and thee." +The universal world in awe +That outrage on the lady saw, +All nature shook convulsed with dread, +And darkness o'er the land was spread. +The Lord of Day grew dark and chill, +And every breath of air was still. +The Eternal Father of the sky +Beheld the crime with heavenly eye, +And spake with solemn voice, "The deed, +The deed is done, of old decreed." +Sad were the saints within the grove, +But triumph with their sorrow strove. +They wept to see the Maithil dame +Endure the outrage, scorn, and shame: +They joyed because his life should pay +The penalty incurred that day. +Then Rávan raised her up, and bare +His captive through the fields of air, +Calling with accents loud and shrill +On Ráma and on Lakshman still. +With sparkling gems on arm and breast, +In silk of paly amber dressed, +High in the air the Maithil dame +Gleamed like the lightning's flashing flame. +The giant, as the breezes blew +Upon her robes of amber hue, +And round him twined that gay attire, +Showed like a mountain girt with fire. +The lady, fairest of the fair, +Had wreathed a garland round her hair; +Its lotus petals bright and sweet +Rained down about the giant's feet. +Her vesture, bright as burning gold, +Gave to the wind each glittering fold, +Fair as a gilded cloud that gleams +Touched by the Day-God's tempered beams. +Yet struggling in the fiend's embrace, +The lady with her sweet pure face, +Far from her lord, no longer wore +The light of joy that shone before. +Like some sad lily by the side +Of waters which the sun has dried; +Like the pale moon uprising through +An autumn cloud of darkest hue, +So was her perfect face between +The arms of giant Rávan seen: +Fair with the charm of braided tress +And forehead's finished loveliness; +Fair with the ivory teeth that shed +White lustre through the lips' fine red, +Fair as the lotus when the bud +Is rising from the parent flood. +With faultless lip and nose and eye, +Dear as the moon that floods the sky +With gentle light, of perfect mould, +She seemed a thing of burnished gold, +Though on her cheek the traces lay +Of tears her hand had brushed away. +But as the moon-beams swiftly fade +Ere the great Day-God shines displayed, +So in that form of perfect grace +Still trembling in the fiend's embrace, +From her beloved Ráma reft, +No light of pride or joy was left. +The lady with her golden hue +O'er the swart fiend a lustre threw, +As when embroidered girths enfold +An elephant with gleams of gold. +Fair as the lily's bending stem,-- +Her arms adorned with many a gem, +A lustre to the fiend she lent +Gleaming from every ornament, +As when the cloud-shot flashes light +The shadows of a mountain height. +Whene'er the breezes earthward bore +The tinkling of the zone she wore, +He seemed a cloud of darkness hue +Sending forth murmurs as it flew. +As on her way the dame was sped +From her sweet neck fair flowers were shed, +The swift wind caught the flowery rain +And poured it o'er the fiend again. +The wind-stirred blossoms, sweet to smell, +On the dark brows of Rávan fell, +Like lunar constellations set +On Meru for a coronet. +From her small foot an anklet fair +With jewels slipped, and through the air, +Like a bright circlet of the flame +Of thunder, to the valley came. +The Maithil lady, fair to see +As the young leaflet of a tree +Clad in the tender hues of spring, +Flashed glory on the giant king, +As when a gold-embroidered zone +Around an elephant is thrown. +While, bearing far the lady, through +The realms of sky the giant flew, +She like a gleaming meteor cast +A glory round her as she passed. +Then from each limb in swift descent +Dropped many a sparkling ornament: +On earth they rested dim and pale +Like fallen stars when virtues fail.(504) +Around her neck a garland lay +Bright as the Star-God's silvery ray: +It fell and flashed like Gangá sent +From heaven above the firmament.(505) +The birds of every wing had flocked +To stately trees by breezes rocked: +These bowed their wind-swept heads and said: +"My lady sweet, be comforted." +With faded blooms each brook within +Whose waters moved no gleamy fin, +Stole sadly through the forest dell +Mourning the dame it loved so well. +From every woodland region near +Came lions, tigers, birds, and deer, +And followed, each with furious look, +The way her flying shadow took. +For Sítá's loss each lofty hill +Whose tears were waterfall, and rill, +Lifting on high each arm-like steep, +Seemed in the general woe to weep. +When the great sun, the lord of day, +Saw Rávan tear the dame away, +His glorious light began to fail +And all his disk grew cold and pale. +"If Rávan from the forest flies +With Ráma's Sítá as his prize, +Justice and truth have vanished hence, +Honour and right and innocence." +Thus rose the cry of wild despair +From spirits as they gathered there. +In trembling troops in open lawns +Wept, wild with woe, the startled fawns, +And a strange terror changed the eyes +They lifted to the distant skies. +On silvan Gods who love the dell +A sudden fear and trembling fell, +As in the deepest woe they viewed +The lady by the fiend subdued. +Still in loud shrieks was heard afar +That voice whose sweetness naught could mar, +While eager looks of fear and woe +She bent upon the earth below. +The lady of each winning wile +With pearly teeth and lovely smile, +Seized by the lord of Lanká's isle, + Looked down for friends in vain. +She saw no friend to aid her, none, +Not Ráma nor the younger son +Of Dasaratha, and undone + She swooned with fear and pain. + + + + +Canto LIII. Sítá's Threats. + + +Soon as the Maithil lady knew +That high through air the giant flew, +Distressed with grief and sore afraid +Her troubled spirit sank dismayed. +Then, as anew the waters welled +From those red eyes which sorrow swelled, +Forth in keen words her passion broke, +And to the fierce-eyed fiend she spoke: +"Canst thou attempt a deed so base, +Untroubled by the deep disgrace,-- +To steal me from my home and fly, +When friend or guardian none was nigh? +Thy craven soul that longed to steal, +Fearing the blows that warriors deal, +Upon a magic deer relied +To lure my husband from my side, +Friend of his sire, the vulture king +Lies low on earth with mangled wing, +Who gave his aged life for me +And died for her he sought to free. +Ah, glorious strength indeed is thine, +Thou meanest of thy giant line, +Whose courage dared to tell thy name +And conquer in the fight a dame. +Does the vile deed that thou hast done +Cause thee no shame, thou wicked one-- +A woman from her home to rend +When none was near his aid to lend? +Through all the worlds, O giant King, +The tidings of this deed will ring, +This deed in law and honour's spite +By one who claims a hero's might. +Shame on thy boasted valour, shame! +Thy prowess is an empty name. +Shame, giant, on this cursed deed +For which thy race is doomed to bleed! +Thou fliest swifter than the gale, +For what can strength like thine avail? +Stay for one hour, O Rávan, stay; +Thou shalt not flee with life away. +Soon as the royal chieftains' sight +Falls on the thief who roams by night, +Thou wilt not, tyrant, live one hour +Though backed by all thy legions' power. +Ne'er can thy puny strength sustain +The tempest of their arrowy rain: +Have e'er the trembling birds withstood +The wild flames raging in the wood? +Hear me, O Rávan, let me go, +And save thy soul from coming woe. +Or if thou wilt not set me free, +Wroth for this insult done to me. +With his brave brother's aid my lord +Against thy life will raise his sword. +A guilty hope inflames thy breast +His wife from Ráma's home to wrest. +Ah fool, the hope thou hast is vain; +Thy dreams of bliss shall end in pain. +If torn from all I love by thee +My godlike lord no more I see, +Soon will I die and end my woes, +Nor live the captive of my foes. +Ah fool, with blinded eyes to choose +The evil and the good refuse! +So the sick wretch with stubborn will +Turns fondly to the cates that kill, +And madly draws his lips away +From medicine that would check decay. +About thy neck securely wound +The deadly coil of Fate is bound, +And thou, O Rávan, dost not fear +Although the hour of death is near. +With death-doomed sight thine eyes behold +The gleaming of the trees of gold,-- +See dread Vaitarani, the flood +That rolls a stream of foamy blood,-- +See the dark wood by all abhorred-- +Its every leaf a threatening sword. +The tangled thickets thou shall tread +Where thorns with iron points are spread. +For never can thy days be long, +Base plotter of this shame and wrong +To Ráma of the lofty soul: +He dies who drinks the poisoned bowl. +The coils of death around thee lie: +They hold thee and thou canst not fly. +Ah whither, tyrant, wouldst thou run +The vengeance of my lord to shun? +By his unaided arm alone +Were twice seven thousand fiends o'erthrown: +Yes, in the twinkling of an eye +He forced thy mightiest fiends to die. +And shall that lord of lion heart, +Skilled in the bow and spear and dart, +Spare thee, O fiend, in battle strife, +The robber of his darling wife?" + + These were her words, and more beside, +By wrath and bitter hate supplied. +Then by her woe and fear o'erthrown +She wept again and made her moan. +As long she wept in grief and dread, +Scarce conscious of the words she said, +The wicked giant onward fled + And bore her through the air. +As firm he held the Maithil dame, +Still wildly struggling, o'er her frame +With grief and bitter misery came + The trembling of despair. + + + + +Canto LIV. Lanká. + + +He bore her on in rapid flight, +And not a friend appeared in sight. +But on a hill that o'er the wood +Raised its high top five monkeys stood. +From her fair neck her scarf she drew, +And down the glittering vesture flew. +With earring, necklet, chain, and gem, +Descending in the midst of them: +"For these," she thought, "my path may show, +And tell my lord the way I go." +Nor did the fiend, in wild alarm, +Mark when she drew from neck and arm +And foot the gems and gold, and sent +To earth each gleaming ornament. +The monkeys raised their tawny eyes +That closed not in their first surprise, +And saw the dark-eyed lady, where +She shrieked above them in the air. +High o'er their heads the giant passed +Holding the weeping lady fast. +O'er Pampa's flashing flood he sped +And on to Lanká's city fled. +He bore away in senseless joy +The prize that should his life destroy, +Like the rash fool who hugs beneath +His robe a snake with venomed teeth. +Swift as an arrow from a bow, +Speeding o'er lands that lay below, +Sublime in air his course he took +O'er wood and rock and lake and brook. +He passed at length the sounding sea +Where monstrous creatures wander free,-- +Seat of Lord Varun's ancient reign, +Controller of the eternal main. +The angry waves were raised and tossed +As Rávan with the lady crossed, +And fish and snake in wild unrest +Showed flashing fin and gleaming crest. +Then from the blessed troops who dwell +In air celestial voices fell: +"O ten-necked King," they cried, "attend: +This guilty deed will bring thine end." + + Then Rávan speeding like the storm, +Bearing his death in human form, +The struggling Sítá, lighted down +In royal Lanká's glorious town; +A city bright and rich, that showed +Well-ordered street and noble road; +Arranged with just division, fair +With multitudes in court and square. +Thus, all his journey done, he passed +Within his royal home at last. +There in a queenly bower he placed +The black-eyed dame with dainty waist: +Thus in her chamber Máyá laid +The lovely Máyá, demon maid. +Then Rávan gave command to all +The dread she-fiends who filled the hall: +"This captive lady watch and guard +From sight of man and woman barred. +But all the fair one asks beside +Be with unsparing hand supplied: +As though 'twere I that asked, withhold +No pearls or dress or gems or gold. +And she among you that shall dare +Of purpose or through want of care +One word to vex her soul to say, +Throws her unvalued life away." + + Thus spake the monarch of their race +To those she-fiends who thronged the place, +And pondering on the course to take +Went from the chamber as he spake. +He saw eight giants, strong and dread, +On flesh of bleeding victims fed, +Proud in the boon which Brahmá gave, +And trusting in its power to save. +He thus the mighty chiefs addressed +Of glorious power and strength possessed: +"Arm, warriors, with the spear and bow; +With all your speed from Lanká go, +For Janasthán, our own no more, +Is now defiled with giants' gore; +The seat of Khara's royal state +Is left unto us desolate. +In your brave hearts and might confide, +And cast ignoble fear aside. +Go, in that desert region dwell +Where the fierce giants fought and fell. +A glorious host that region held, +For power and might unparalleled, +By Dúshan and brave Khara led,-- +All, slain by Ráma's arrows, bled. +Hence boundless wrath that spurns control +Reigns paramount within my soul, +And naught but Ráma's death can sate +The fury of my vengeful hate. +I will not close my slumbering eyes +Till by this hand my foeman dies. +And when mine arm has slain the foe +Who laid those giant princes low, +Long will I triumph in the deed, +Like one enriched in utmost need. +Now go; that I this end may gain, +In Janasthán, O chiefs, remain. +Watch Ráma there with keenest eye, +And all his deeds and movements spy. +Go forth, no helping art neglect, +Be brave and prompt and circumspect, +And be your one endeavour still +To aid mine arm this foe to kill. +Oft have I seen your warrior might +Proved in the forehead of the fight, +And sure of strength I know so well +Send you in Janasthán to dwell." + The giants heard with prompt assent + The pleasant words he said, + And each before his master bent + For meet salute, his head. + Then as he bade, without delay, + From Lanká's gate they passed, + And hurried forward on their way + Invisible and fast. + + + + +Canto LV. Sítá In Prison. + + +Thus Rávan his commandment gave +To those eight giants strong and brave, +So thinking in his foolish pride +Against all dangers to provide. +Then with his wounded heart aflame +With love he thought upon the dame, +And took with hasty steps the way +To the fair chamber where she lay. +He saw the gentle lady there +Weighed down by woe too great to bear, +Amid the throng of fiends who kept +Their watch around her as she wept: +A pinnace sinking neath the wave +When mighty winds around her rave: +A lonely herd-forsaken deer, +When hungry dogs are pressing near. +Within the bower the giant passed: +Her mournful looks were downward cast. +As there she lay with streaming eyes +The giant bade the lady rise, +And to the shrinking captive showed +The glories of his rich abode, +Where thousand women spent their days +In palaces with gold ablaze; +Where wandered birds of every sort, +And jewels flashed in hall and court. +Where noble pillars charmed the sight +With diamond and lazulite, +And others glorious to behold +With ivory, crystal, silver, gold. +There swelled on high the tambour's sound, +And burnished ore was bright around +He led the mournful lady where +Resplendent gold adorned the stair, +And showed each lattice fair to see +With silver work and ivory: +Showed his bright chambers, line on line, +Adorned with nets of golden twine. +Beyond he showed the Maithil dame +His gardens bright as lightning's flame, +And many a pool and lake he showed +Where blooms of gayest colour glowed. +Through all his home from view to view +The lady sunk in grief he drew. +Then trusting in her heart to wake +Desire of all she saw, he spake: +"Three hundred million giants, all +Obedient to their master's call, +Not counting young and weak and old, +Serve me with spirits fierce and bold. +A thousand culled from all of these +Wait on the lord they long to please. +This glorious power, this pomp and sway, +Dear lady, at thy feet I lay: +Yea, with my life I give the whole, +O dearer than my life and soul. +A thousand beauties fill my hall: +Be thou my wife and rule them all. +O hear my supplication! why +This reasonable prayer deny? +Some pity to thy suitor show, +For love's hot flames within me glow. +This isle a hundred leagues in length, +Encompassed by the ocean's strength, +Would all the Gods and fiends defy +Though led by Him who rules the sky. +No God in heaven, no sage on earth, +No minstrel of celestial birth, +No spirit in the worlds I see +A match in power and might for me. +What wilt thou do with Ráma, him +Whose days are short, whose light is dim, +Expelled from home and royal sway, +Who treads on foot his weary way? +Leave the poor mortal to his fate, +And wed thee with a worthier mate. +My timid love, enjoy with me +The prime of youth before it flee. +Do not one hour the hope retain +To look on Ráma's face again. +For whom would wildest thought beguile +To seek thee in the giants' isle? +Say who is he has power to bind +In toils of net the rushing wind. +Whose is the mighty hand will tame +And hold the glory of the flame? +In all the worlds above, below, +Not one, O fair of form, I know +Who from this isle in fight could rend +The lady whom these arms defend. +Fair Queen, o'er Lanká's island reign, +Sole mistress of the wide domain. +Gods, rovers of the night like me, +And all the world thy slaves will be. +O'er thy fair brows and queenly head +Let consecrating balm be shed, +And sorrow banished from thy breast, +Enjoy my love and take thy rest. +Here never more thy soul shall know +The memory of thy former woe, +And here shall thou enjoy the meed +Deserved by every virtuous deed. +Here garlands glow of flowery twine, +With gorgeous hues and scent divine. +Take gold and gems and rich attire: +Enjoy with me thy heart's desire. +There stand, of chariots far the best, +The car my brother once possessed. +Which, victor in the stricken field, +I forced the Lord of Gold to yield. +'Tis wide and high and nobly wrought, +Bright as the sun and swift as thought. +Therein O Sítá, shalt thou ride +Delighted by thy lover's side. +But sorrow mars with lingering trace +The splendour of thy lotus face. +A cloud of woe is o'er it spread, +And all the light of joy is fled." + + The lady, by her woe distressed, +One corner of her raiment pressed +To her sad cheek like moonlight clear, +And wiped away a falling tear. +The rover of the night renewed +His eager pleading as he viewed +The lady stand like one distraught, +Striving to fix her wandering thought: + + "Think not, sweet lady, of the shame +Of broken vows, nor fear the blame. +The saints approve with favouring eyes +This union knit with marriage ties. +O beauty, at thy radiant feet +I lay my heads, and thus entreat. +One word of grace, one look I crave: +Have pity on thy prostrate slave. +These idle words I speak are vain, +Wrung forth by love's consuming pain, +And ne'er of Rávan be it said +He wooed a dame with prostrate head." +Thus to the Maithil lady sued +The monarch of the giant brood, +And "She is now mine own," he thought, +In Death's dire coils already caught. + + + + +Canto LVI. Sítá's Disdain. + + +His words the Maithil lady heard +Oppressed by woe but undeterred. +Fear of the fiend she cast aside, +And thus in noble scorn replied: +"His word of honour never stained +King Dasaratha nobly reigned, +The bridge of right, the friend of truth. +His eldest son, a noble youth, +Is Ráma, virtue's faithful friend, +Whose glories through the worlds extend. +Long arms and large full eyes has he, +My husband, yea a God to me. +With shoulders like the forest king's, +From old Ikshváku's line he springs. +He with his brother Lakshman's aid +Will smite thee with the vengeful blade. +Hadst thou but dared before his eyes +To lay thine hand upon the prize, +Thou stretched before his feet hadst lain +In Janasthán like Khara slain. +Thy boasted rovers of the night +With hideous shapes and giant might,-- +Like serpents when the feathered king +Swoops down with his tremendous wing,-- +Will find their useless venom fail +When Ráma's mighty arms assail. +The rapid arrows bright with gold, +Shot from the bow he loves to hold, +Will rend thy frame from flank to flank +As Gangá's waves erode the bank. +Though neither God nor fiend have power +To slay thee in the battle hour, +Yet from his hand shall come thy fate, +Struck down before his vengeful hate. +That mighty lord will strike and end +The days of life thou hast to spend. +Thy days are doomed, thy life is sped +Like victims to the pillar led. +Yea, if the glance of Ráma bright +With fury on thy form should light, +Thou scorched this day wouldst fall and die +Like Káma slain by Rudra's eye.(506) +He who from heaven the moon could throw, +Or bid its bright rays cease to glow,-- +He who could drain the mighty sea +Will set his darling Sítá free. +Fled is thy life, thy glory, fled +Thy strength and power: each sense is dead. +Soon Lanká widowed by thy guilt +Will see the blood of giants spilt. +This wicked deed, O cruel King, +No triumph, no delight will bring. +Thou with outrageous might and scorn +A woman from her lord hast torn. +My glorious husband far away, +Making heroic strength his stay, +Dwells with his brother, void of fear, +In Dandak forest lone and drear. +No more in force of arms confide: +That haughty strength, that power and pride +My hero with his arrowy rain +From all thy bleeding limbs will drain. +When urged by fate's dire mandate, nigh +Comes the fixt hour for men to die. +Caught in Death's toils their eyes are blind, +And folly takes each wandering mind. +So for the outrage thou hast done +The fate is near thou canst not shun,-- +The fate that on thyself and all +Thy giants and thy town shall fall. +I spurn thee: can the altar dight +With vessels for the sacred rite, +O'er which the priest his prayer has said, +Be sullied by an outcaste's tread? +So me, the consort dear and true +Of him who clings to virtue too, +Thy hated touch shall ne'er defile, +Base tyrant lord of Lanká's isle. +Can the white swan who floats in pride +Through lilies by her consort's side, +Look for one moment, as they pass, +On the poor diver in the grass? +This senseless body waits thy will, +To torture, chain, to wound or kill. +I will not, King of giants, strive +To keep this fleeting soul alive +But never shall they join the name +Of Sítá with reproach and shame." + + Thus as her breast with fury burned +Her bitter speech the dame returned. +Such words of rage and scorn, the last +She uttered, at the fiend she cast. +Her taunting speech the giant heard, +And every hair with anger stirred. +Then thus with fury in his eye +He made in threats his fierce reply: +"Hear Maithil lady, hear my speech: +List to my words and ponder each. +If o'er thy head twelve months shall fly +And thou thy love wilt still deny, +My cooks shall mince thy flesh with steel +And serve it for my morning meal." + + Thus with terrific threats to her +Spake Rávan, cruel ravener. +Mad with the rage her answer woke +He called the fiendish train and spoke: +"Take her, ye Rákshas dames, who fright +With hideous form and mien the sight, +Who make the flesh of men your food,-- +And let her pride be soon subdued." +He spoke, and at his word the band +Of fiendish monsters raised each hand +In reverence to the giant king, +And pressed round Sítá in a ring. +Rávan once more with stern behest +To those she-fiends his speech addressed: +Shaking the earth beneath his tread, +He stamped his furious foot and said: +"To the Asoka garden bear +The dame, and guard her safely there +Until her stubborn pride be bent +By mingled threat and blandishment. +See that ye watch her well, and tame, +Like some she-elephant, the dame." + + They led her to that garden where +The sweetest flowers perfumed the air, +Where bright trees bore each rarest fruit, +And birds, enamoured, ne'er were mute. +Bowed down with terror and distress, +Watched by each cruel giantess,-- +Like a poor solitary deer +When ravening tigresses are near,-- +The hapless lady lay distraught +Like some wild thing but newly caught, +And found no solace, no relief +From agonizing fear and grief; +Not for one moment could forget +Each terrifying word and threat, +Or the fierce eyes upon her set + By those who watched around. +She thought of Ráma far away, +She mourned for Lakshman as she lay +In grief and terror and dismay + Half fainting on the ground. + + + + +Canto LVII. Sítá Comforted. + + +Soon as the fiend had set her down +Within his home in Lanká's town +Triumph and joy filled Indra's breast, +Whom thus the Eternal Sire addressed: + + "This deed will free the worlds from woe +And cause the giants' overthrow. +The fiend has borne to Lanká's isle +The lady of the lovely smile, +True consort born to happy fate +With features fair and delicate. +She looks and longs for Ráma's face, +But sees a crowd of demon race, +And guarded by the giant's train +Pines for her lord and weeps in vain. +But Lanká founded on a steep +Is girdled by the mighty deep, +And how will Ráma know his fair +And blameless wife is prisoned there? +She on her woe will sadly brood +And pine away in solitude, +And heedless of herself, will cease +To live, despairing of release. +Yes, pondering on her fate, I see +Her gentle life in jeopardy. +Go, Indra, swiftly seek the place, +And look upon her lovely face. +Within the city make thy way: +Let heavenly food her spirit stay." + + Thus Brahma spake: and He who slew +The cruel demon Páka, flew +Where Lanká's royal city lay, +And Sleep went with him on his way. +"Sleep," cried the heavenly Monarch, "close +Each giant's eye in deep repose." + + Thus Indra spoke, and Sleep fulfilled +With joy his mandate, as he willed, +To aid the plan the Gods proposed, +The demons' eyes in sleep she closed. +Then Sachí's lord, the Thousand-eyed, +To the Asoka garden hied. +He came and stood where Sítá lay, +And gently thus began to say: +"Lord of the Gods who hold the sky, +Dame of the lovely smile, am I. +Weep no more, lady, weep no more; +Thy days of woe will soon be o'er. +I come, O Janak's child, to be +The helper of thy lord and thee. +He through my grace, with hosts to aid, +This sea-girt land will soon invade. +'Tis by my art that slumbers close +The eyelids of thy giant foes. +Now I, with Sleep, this place have sought, +Videhan lady, and have brought +A gift of heaven's ambrosial food +To stay thee in thy solitude. +Receive it from my hand, and taste, +O lady of the dainty waist: +For countless ages thou shall be +From pangs of thirst and hunger free." + + But doubt within her bosom woke +As to the Lord of Gods she spoke: +"How may I know for truth that thou +Whose form I see before me now +Art verily the King adored +By heavenly Gods, and Sachí's lord? +With Raghu's sons I learnt to know +The certain signs which Godhead show. +These marks before mine eyes display +If o'er the Gods thou bear the sway." + + The heavenly lord of Sachí heard, +And did according to her word. +Above the ground his feet were raised; +With eyelids motionless he gazed. +No dust upon his raiment lay, +And his bright wreath was fresh and gay. +Nor was the lady's glad heart slow +The Monarch of the Gods to know, +And while the tears unceasing ran +From her sweet eyes she thus began: +"My lord has gained a friend in thee, +And I this day thy presence see +Shown clearly to mine eyes, as when +Ráma and Lakshman, lords of men, +Beheld it, and their sire the king, +And Janak too from whom I spring. +Now I, O Monarch of the Blest, +Will eat this food at thy behest, +Which thou hast brought me, of thy grace, +To aid and strengthen Raghu's race." + + She spoke, and by his words relieved, +The food from Indra's hand received, +Yet ere she ate the balm he brought, +On Lakshman and her lord she thought. +"If my brave lord be still alive, +If valiant Lakshman yet survive, +May this my taste of heavenly food +Bring health to them and bliss renewed!" + She ate, and that celestial food + Stayed hunger, thirst, and lassitude, + And all her strength restored. + Great joy her hopeful spirit stirred + At the glad tidings newly heard + Of Lakshman and her lord. + And Indra's heart was joyful too: + He bade the Maithil dame adieu, + His saving errand done. + With Sleep beside him parting thence + He sought his heavenly residence + To prosper Raghu's son. + + + + +Canto LVIII. The Brothers' Meeting. + + +When Ráma's deadly shaft had struck +The giant in the seeming buck, +The chieftain turned him from the place +His homeward way again to trace. +Then as he hastened onward, fain +To look upon his spouse again, +Behind him from a thicket nigh +Rang out a jackal's piercing cry. +Alarmed he heard the startling shriek +That raised his hair and dimmed his cheek, +And all his heart was filled with doubt +As the shrill jackal's cry rang out: +"Alas, some dire disaster seems +Portended by the jackal's screams. +O may the Maithil dame be screened +From outrage of each hungry fiend! +Alas, if Lakshman chanced to hear +That bitter cry of woe and fear +What time Márícha, as he died, +With voice that mocked my accents cried, +Swift to my side the prince would flee +And quit the dame to succour me. +Too well I see the demon band +The slaughter of my love have planned. +Me far from home and Sítá's view +The seeming deer Márícha drew. +He led me far through brake and dell +Till wounded by my shaft he fell, +And as he sank rang out his cry, +"O save me, Lakshman, or I die." +May it be well with both who stayed +In the great wood with none to aid, +For every fiend is now my foe +For Janasthán's great overthrow, +And many an omen seen to-day +Has filled my heart with sore dismay." + + Such were the thoughts and sad surmise +Of Ráma at the jackal's cries, +And all his heart within him burned +As to his cot his steps he turned. +He pondered on the deer that led +His feet to follow where it fled, +And sad with many a bitter thought +His home in Janasthán he sought. +His soul was dark with woe and fear +When flocks of birds and troops of deer +Move round him from the left, and raised +Discordant voices as they gazed. +The omens which the chieftain viewed +The terror of his soul renewed, +When lo, to meet him Lakshman sped +With brows whence all the light had fled. +Near and more near the princes came, +Each brother's heart and look the same; +Alike on each sad visage lay +The signs of misery and dismay, +Then Ráma by his terror moved +His brother for his fault reproved +In leaving Sítá far from aid +In the wild wood where giants strayed. +Lakshman's left hand he took, and then +In gentle tones the prince of men, +Though sharp and fierce their tenour ran, +Thus to his brother chief began: + + "O Lakshman, thou art much to blame +Leaving alone the Maithil dame, +And flying hither to my side: +O, may no ill my spouse betide! +But ah, I know my wife is dead, +And giants on her limbs have fed, +So strange, so terrible are all +The omens which my heart appal. +O Lakshman, may we yet return +The safety of my love to learn. +To find the child of Janak still +Alive and free from scathe and ill! +Each bird with notes of warning screams, +Though the hot sun still darts his beams. +The moan of deer, the jackal's yell +Of some o'erwhelming misery tell. +O mighty brother, still may she, +My princess, live from danger free! + That semblance of a golden deer + Allured me far away, + I followed nearer and more near, + And longed to take the prey. + I followed where the quarry fled: + My deadly arrow flew, + And as the dying creature bled, + The giant met my view. + Great fear and pain oppress my heart + That dreads the coming blow, + And through my left eye keenly dart + The throbs that herald woe. + Ah Lakshman, all these signs dismay, + My soul that sinks with dread, + I know my love is torn away, + Or, haply, she is dead." + + + + +Canto LIX. Ráma's Return. + + +When Ráma saw his brother stand +With none beside him, all unmanned, +Eager he questioned why he came +So far without the Maithil dame: +"Where is my wife, my darling, she +Who to the wild wood followed me? +Where hast thou left my lady, where +The dame who chose my lot to share? +Where is my love who balms my woe +As through the forest wilds I go, +Unkinged and banished and disgraced,-- +My darling of the dainty waist? +She nerves my spirit for the strife, +She, only she gives zest to life, +Dear as my breath is she who vies +In charms with daughters of the skies. +If Janak's child be mine no more, +In splendour fair as virgin ore, +The lordship of the skies and earth +To me were prize of little worth. +Ah, lives she yet, the Maithil dame, +Dear as the soul within this frame? +O, let not all my toil be vain, +The banishment, the woe and pain! +O, let not dark Kaikeyí win +The guerdon of her treacherous sin, +If, Sítá lost, my days I end, +And thou without me homeward wend! +O, let not good Kausalyá shed +Her bitter tears to mourn me dead, +Nor her proud rival's hest obey, +Strong in her son and queenly sway! +Back to my cot will I repair +If Sítá live to greet me there, +But if my wife have perished, I +Reft of my love will surely die. +O Lakshman, if I seek my cot, +Look for my love and find her not +Sweet welcome with her smile to give, +I tell thee, I will cease to live. +O answer,--let thy words be plain,-- +Lives Sítá yet, or is she slain? +Didst thou thy sacred trust betray +Till ravening giants seized the prey? +Ah me, so young, so soft and fair, +Lapped in all bliss, untried by care, +Rent from her own dear husband, how +Will she support her misery now? +That voice, O Lakshman smote thine ear, +And filled, I ween, thy heart with fear, +When on thy name for succour cried +The treacherous giant ere he died. +That voice too like mine own, I ween, +Was heard by the Videhan queen. +She bade thee seek my side to aid, +And quickly was the hest obeyed, +But ah, thy fault I needs must blame, +To leave alone the helpless dame, +And let the cruel giants sate +The fury of their murderous hate. +Those blood-devouring demons all +Grieve in their souls for Khara's fall, +And Sítá, none to guard her side, +Torn by their cruel hands has died. +I sink, O tamer of thy foes, +Deep in the sea of whelming woes. +What can I now? I must endure +The mighty grief that mocks at cure." + + Thus, all his thoughts on Sítá bent, +To Janasthán the chieftain went, +Hastening on with eager stride, +And Lakshman hurried by his side. +With toil and thirst and hunger worn, +His breast with doubt and anguish torn, + He sought the well-known spot. +Again, again he turned to chide +With quivering lips which terror dried: + He looked, and found her not. +Within his leafy home he sped, +Each pleasant spot he visited + Where oft his darling strayed. +"'Tis as I feared," he cried, and there, +Yielding to pangs too great to bear, + He sank by grief dismayed. + + + + +Canto LX. Lakshman Reproved. + + +But Ráma ceased not to upbraid, +His brother for untimely aid, +And thus, while anguish wrung his breast, +The chief with eager question pressed: +"Why, Lakshman, didst thou hurry hence +And leave my wife without defence? +I left her in the wood with thee, +And deemed her safe from jeopardy. +When first thy form appeared in view, +I marked that Sítá came not too. +With woe my troubled soul was rent, +Prophetic of the dire event. +Thy coming steps afar I spied, +I saw no Sítá by thy side, +And felt a sudden throbbing dart +Through my left eye, and arm, and heart." + + Lakshman, with Fortune's marks impressed, +His brother mournfully addressed: +"Not by my heart's free impulse led, +Leaving thy wife to thee I sped; +But by her keen reproaches sent, +O Ráma, to thine aid I went. +She heard afar a mournful cry, +"O save me, Lakshman, or I die." +The voice that spoke in moving tone +Smote on her ear and seemed thine own. +Soon as those accents reached her ear +She yielded to her woe and fear, +She wept o'ercome by grief, and cried, +"Fly, Lakshman, fly to Ráma's side." +Though many a time she bade me speed, +Her urgent prayer I would not heed. +I bade her in thy strength confide, +And thus with tender words replied: +"No giant roams the forest shade +From whom thy lord need shrink dismayed. +No human voice, believe me, spoke +Those words thy causeless fear that woke. +Can he whose might can save in woe +The heavenly Gods e'er stoop so low, +And with those piteous accents call +For succour like a caitiff thrall? +And why should wandering giants choose +The accents of thy lord to use, +In alien tones my help to crave, +And cry aloud, O Lakshman, save? +Now let my words thy spirit cheer, +Compose thy thoughts and banish fear. +In hell, in earth, or in the skies +There is not, and there cannot rise +A champion whose strong arm can slay +Thy Ráma in the battle fray. +To heavenly hosts he ne'er would yield +Though Indra led them to the field." +To soothe her thus I vainly sought: +Her heart with woe was still distraught. +While from her eyes the waters ran +Her bitter speech she thus began: +"Too well I see thy dark intent: +Thy lawless thoughts on me are bent. +Thou hopest, but thy hope is vain, +To win my love, thy brother slain. +Not love, but Bharat's dark decree +To share his exile counselled thee, +Or hearing now his bitter cry +Thou surely to his aid wouldst fly. +For love of me, a stealthy foe +Thou choosest by his side to go, +And now thou longest that my lord +Should die, and wilt no help afford." + + Such were the words the lady said: +With angry fire my eyes were red. +With pale lips quivering in my rage +I hastened from the hermitage." +He ceased; and frenzied by his pain +The son of Raghu spoke again: +"O brother, for thy fault I grieve, +The Maithil dame alone to leave. +Thou knowest that my arm is strong +To save me from the giant throng, +And yet couldst leave the cottage, spurred +To folly by her angry word. +For this thy deed I praise thee not,-- +To leave her helpless in the cot, +And thus thy sacred charge forsake +For the wild words a woman spake. +Yea thou art all to blame herein, +And very grievous is thy sin. +That anger swayed thy faithless breast +And made thee false to my behest. +An arrow speeding from my bow +Has laid the treacherous giant low, +Who lured me eager for the chase +Far from my hermit dwelling-place. +The string with easy hand I drew, +The arrow as in pastime flew, + The wounded quarry bled. +The borrowed form was cast away, +Before mine eye a giant lay + With bright gold braceleted. +My arrow smote him in the chest: +The giant by the pain distressed + Raised his loud voice on high. +Far rang the mournful sound: mine own, +It seemed, were accent, voice, and tone, +They made thee leave my spouse alone + And to my rescue fly." + + + + +Canto LXI. Ráma's Lament. + + +As Ráma sought his leafy cot +Through his left eye keen throbbings shot, +His wonted strength his frame forsook, +And all his body reeled and shook. +Still on those dreadful signs he thought,-- +Sad omens with disaster fraught, +And from his troubled heart he cried, +"O, may no ill my spouse betide!" +Longing to gaze on Sítá's face +He hastened to his dwelling-place, +Then sinking neath his misery's weight, +He looked and found it desolate. +Tossing his mighty arms on high +He sought her with an eager cry, +From spot to spot he wildly ran +Each corner of his home to scan. +He looked, but Sítá was not there; +His cot was disolate and bare, +Like streamlet in the winter frost, +The glory of her lilies lost. +With leafy tears the sad trees wept +As a wild wind their branches swept. +Mourned bird and deer, and every flower +Drooped fainting round the lonely bower. +The silvan deities had fled +The spot where all the light was dead, +Where hermit coats of skin displayed, +And piles of sacred grass were laid. +He saw, and maddened by his pain +Cried in lament again, again: +"Where is she, dead or torn away, +Lost, or some hungry giant's prey? +Or did my darling chance to rove +For fruit and blossoms though the grove? +Or has she sought the pool or rill, +Her pitcher from the wave to fill?" +His eager eyes on fire with pain +He roamed about with maddened brain. +Each grove and glade he searched with care, +He sought, but found no Sítá there. +He wildly rushed from hill to hill; +From tree to tree, from rill to rill, +As bitter woe his bosom rent +Still Ráma roamed with fond lament: +"O sweet Kadamba say has she +Who loved thy bloom been seen by thee? +If thou have seen her face most fair, +Say, gentle tree, I pray thee, where. +O Bel tree with thy golden fruit +Round as her breast, no more be mute, +Where is my radiant darling, gay +In silk that mocks thy glossy spray? +O Arjun, say, where is she now +Who loved to touch thy scented bough? +Do not thy graceful friend forget, +But tell me, is she living yet? +Speak, Basil, thou must surely know, +For like her limbs thy branches show,-- +Most lovely in thy fair array +Of twining plant and tender spray. +Sweet Tila, fairest of the trees, +Melodious with the hum of bees, +Where is my darling Sítá, tell,-- +The dame who loved thy flowers so well? +Asoka, act thy gentle part,-- +Named Heartsease,(507) give me what thou art, +To these sad eyes my darling show +And free me from this load of woe. +O Palm, in rich ripe fruitage dressed +Round as the beauties of her breast, +If thou have heart to know and feel, +My peerless consort's fate reveal. +Hast thou, Rose-apple, chanced to view +My darling bright with golden hue? +If thou have seen her quickly speak, +Where is the dame I wildly seek? +O glorious Cassia, thou art gay +With all thy loveliest bloom to-day, +Where is my dear who loved to hold +In her full lap thy flowery gold?" +To many a tree and plant beside, +To Jasmin, Mango, Sál, he cried. +"Say, hast thou seen, O gentle deer, +The fawn-eyed Sítá wandering here? +It may be that my love has strayed +To sport with fawns beneath the shade, +If thou, great elephant, have seen +My darling of the lovely mien, +Whose rounded limbs are soft and fine +As is that lissome trunk of thine, +O noblest of wild creatures, show +Where is the dame thou needs must know. +O tiger, hast thou chanced to see +My darling? very fair is she, +Cast all thy fear away, declare, +Where is my moon-faced darling, where? +There, darling of the lotus eye, +I see thee, and 'tis vain to fly, +Wilt thou not speak, dear love? I see +Thy form half hidden by the tree. +Stay if thou love me, Sítá, stay +In pity cease thy heartless play. +Why mock me now? thy gentle breast +Was never prone to cruel jest. +'Tis vain behind yon bush to steal: +Thy shimmering silks thy path reveal. +Fly not, mine eyes pursue thy way; +For pity's sake, dear Sítá, stay. +Ah me, ah me, my words are vain; +My gentle love is lost or slain. +How could her tender bosom spurn +Her husband on his home-return? +Ah no, my love is surely dead, +Fierce giants on her flesh have fed, +Rending the soft limbs of their prey +When I her lord was far away. +That moon-bright face, that polished brow, +Red lips, bright teeth--what are they now? +Alas, my darling's shapely neck +She loved with chains of gold to deck,-- +That neck that mocked the sandal scent, +The ruthless fiends have grasped and rent. +Alas, 'twas vain those arms to raise +Soft as the young tree's tender sprays. +Ah, dainty meal for giants' lips +Were arms and quivering finger tips. +Ah, she who counted many a friend +Was left for fiends to seize and rend, +Was left by me without defence +From ravening giants' violence. +O Lakshman of the arm of might, +Say, is my darling love in sight? +O dearest Sítá. where art thou? +Where is my darling consort now?" + + Thus as he cried in wild lament +From grove to grove the mourner went, +Here for a moment sank to rest, +Then started up and onward pressed. +Thus roaming on like one distraught +Still for his vanished love he sought, +He searched in wood and hill and glade, +By rock and brook and wild cascade. +Through groves with restless step he sped +And left no spot unvisited. +Through lawns and woods of vast extent +Still searching for his love he went + With eager steps and fast. +For many a weary hour he toiled, +Still in his fond endeavour foiled, + Yet hoping to the last. + + + + +Canto LXII. Ráma's Lament. + + +When all the toil and search was vain +He sought his leafy home again. +'Twas empty still: all scattered lay +The seats of grass in disarray. +He raised his shapely arms on high +And spoke aloud with bitter cry: +"Where is the Maithil dame?" he said, +"O, whither has my darling fled? +Who can have borne away my dame, +Or feasted on her tender frame? +If, Sítá hidden by some tree, +Thou joyest still to mock at me, +Cease, cease thy cruel sport, and take +Compassion, or my heart will break. +Bethink thee, love, the gentle fawns +With whom thou playest on the lawns, +Impatient for thy coming wait +With streaming eyes disconsolate. +Reft of my love, I needs must go +Hence to the shades weighed down by woe. +The king our sire will see me there, +And cry, "O perjured Ráma, where, +Where is thy faith, that thou canst speed +From exile ere the time decreed?" + + Ah Sítá, whither hast thou fled +And left me here disquieted, +A hapless mourner, reft of hope, +Too feeble with my woe to cope? +E'en thus indignant Glory flies +The wretch who stains his soul with lies. +If thou, my love, art lost to view, +I in my woe must perish too." + + Thus Ráma by his grief distraught +Wept for the wife he vainly sought, +And Lakshman whose fraternal breast +Longed for his weal, the chief addressed +Whose soul gave way beneath the pain +When all his eager search was vain, +Like some great elephant who stands +Sinking upon the treacherous sands: +"Not yet, O wisest chief, despair; +Renew thy toil with utmost care. +This noble hill where trees are green +Has many a cave and dark ravine. +The Maithil lady day by day +Delighted in the woods to stray, +Deep in the grove she wanders still, +Or walks by blossom-covered rill, +Or fish-loved river stealing through +Tall clusters of the dark bamboo. +Or else the dame with arch design +To prove thy mood, O Prince, and mine, +Far in some sheltering thicket lies +To frighten ere she meet our eyes. +Then come, renew thy labour, trace +The lady to her lurking-place, +And search the wood from side to side +To know where Sítá loves to bide. +Collect thy thoughts, O royal chief, +Nor yield to unavailing grief." + + Thus Lakshman, by attention stirred, +To fresh attempts his brother spurred, +And Ráma, as he ceased, began +With Lakshman's aid each spot to scan. +In eager search their way they took +Through wood, o'er hill, by pool and brook, +They roamed each mount, nor spared to seek +On ridge and crag and towering peak. +They sought the dame in every spot; +But all in vain; they found her not. +Above, below, on every side +They ranged the hill, and Ráma cried, +"O Lakshman, O my brother still +No trace of Sítá on the hill!" +Then Lakshman as he roamed the wood +Beside his glorious brother stood, +And while fierce grief his bosom burned +This answer to the chief returned: +"Thou, Ráma, after toil and pain +Wilt meet the Maithil dame again, +As Vishnu, Bali's might subdued, +His empire of the earth renewed."(508) + + Then Ráma cried in mournful tone, +His spirit by his woe o'erthrown; +"The wood is searched from side to side, +No distant spot remains untried, +No lilied pool, no streamlet where +The lotus buds are fresh and fair. +Our eyes have searched the hill with all +His caves and every waterfall,-- +But ah, not yet I find my wife, +More precious than the breath of life." + + As thus he mourned his vanished dame +A mighty trembling seized his frame, +And by o'erpowering grief assailed, +His troubled senses reeled and failed. +Too great to bear his misery grew, +And many a long hot sigh he drew, +Then as he wept and sobbed and sighed, +"O Sítá, O my love!" he cried. +Then Lakshman, joining palm to palm, +Tried every art his woe to calm. +But Ráma in his anguish heard +Or heeded not one soothing word, +Still for his spouse he mourned, and shrill +Rang out his lamentation still. + + + + +Canto LXIII. Ráma's Lament. + + +Thus for his wife in vain he sought: +Then, his sad soul with pain distraught, +The hero of the lotus eyes +Filled all the air with frantic cries. +O'erpowered by love's strong influence, he +His absent wife still seemed to see, +And thus with accents weak and faint +Renewed with tears his wild complaint: + + "Thou, fairer than their bloom, my spouse, +Art hidden by Asoka boughs. +Those blooms have power to banish care, +But now they drive me to despair. +Thine arms are like the plantain's stem: +Why let the plantain cover them? +Thou art not hidden, love; thy feet +Betray thee in thy dark retreat. +Thou runnest in thy girlish sport +To flowery trees, thy dear resort. +But cease, O cease, my love, I pray, +To vex me with thy cruel play. +Such mockery in a holy spot +Where hermits dwell beseems thee not. +Ah, now I see thy fickle mind +To scornful mood too much inclined, +Come, large-eyed beauty, I implore; +Lone is the cot so dear before. + + No, she is slain by giants; they +Have stolen or devoured their prey, +Or surely at my mournful cry +My darling to her lord would fly. +O Lakshman, see those troops of deer: +In each sad eye there gleams a tear. +Those looks of woe too clearly say +My consort is the giants' prey. +O noblest, fairest of the fair, +Where art thou, best of women, where? +This day will dark Kaikeyí find +Fresh triumph for her evil mind, +When I, who with my Sítá came +Return alone, without my dame. +But ne'er can I return to see +Those chambers where my queen should be +And hear the scornful people speak +Of Ráma as a coward weak. +For mine will be the coward's shame +Who let the foeman steal his dame. +How can I seek my home, or brook +Upon Videha's king to look? +How listen, when he bids me tell, +My wanderings o'er, that all is well? +He, when I meet his eager view, +Will mark that Sítá comes not too, +And when he hears the mournful tale +His wildered sense will reel and fail. +"O Dasaratha" will he cry, +"Blest in thy mansion in the sky!" +Ne'er to that town my steps shall bend, +That town which Bharat's arms defend, +For e'en the blessed homes above +Would seem a waste without my love. +Leave me, my brother, here, I pray; +To fair Ayodhyá bend thy way. +Without my love I cannot bear +To live one hour in blank despair. +Round Bharat's neck thy fond arms twine, +And greet him with these words of mine: +"Dear brother, still the power retain, +And o'er the land as monarch reign." +With salutation next incline +Before thy mother, his, and mine. +Still, brother, to my words attend, +And with all care each dame befriend. +To my dear mother's ear relate +My mournful tale and Sítá's fate." + + Thus Ráma gave his sorrow vent, +And from a heart which anguish rent, +Mourned for his wife in loud lament,-- + Her of the glorious hair, +From Lakshman's cheek the colour fled, +And o'er his heart came sudden dread, +Sick, faint, and sore disquieted + By woe too great to bear. + + + + +Canto LXIV. Ráma's Lament. + + +Reft of his love, the royal chief, +Weighed down beneath his whelming grief, +Desponding made his brother share +His grievous burden of despair. +Over his sinking bosom rolled +The flood of sorrow uncontrolled. + + And as he wept and sighed, +In mournful accents faint and slow +With words congenial to his woe, + + To Lakshman thus he cried: +"Brother, I ween, beneath the sun, +Of all mankind there lives not one +So full of sin, whose hand has done + Such cursed deeds as mine. +For my sad heart with misery bleeds, +As, guerdon of those evil deeds, +Still greater woe to woe succeeds + In never-ending line. +A life of sin I freely chose, +And from my past transgression flows +A ceaseless flood of bitter woes + My folly to repay. +The fruit of sin has ripened fast, +Through many a sorrow have I passed, +And now the crowning grief at last + Falls on my head to-day. +From all my faithful friends I fled, +My sire is numbered with the dead, +My royal rank is forfeited, + My mother far away. +These woes on which I sadly think +Fill, till it raves above the brink, +The stream of grief in which I sink,-- + The flood which naught can stay. +Ne'er, brother, ne'er have I complained; +Though long by toil and trouble pained, +Without a murmur I sustained + The woes of woodland life. +But fiercer than the flames that rise +When crackling wood the food supplies,-- +Flashing a glow through evening skies,-- + This sorrow for my wife. +Some cruel fiend has seized the prey +And torn my trembling love away, +While, as he bore her through the skies, +She shrieked aloud with frantic cries, +In tones of fear which, wild and shrill, +Retained their native sweetness still. +Ah me, that breast so soft and sweet, +For sandal's precious perfume meet, +Now all detained with dust and gore, +Shall meet my fond caress no more. +That face, whose lips with tones so clear +Made pleasant music, sweet to hear,-- +With soft locks plaited o'er the brow,-- +Some giant's hand is on it now. +It smiles not, as the dear light fails +When Ráhu's jaw the moon assails. +Ah, my true love! that shapely neck +She loved with fairest chains to deck, +The cruel demons rend, and drain +The lifeblood from each mangled vein. +Ah, when the savage monsters came +And dragged away the helpless dame, +The lady of the long soft eye +Called like a lamb with piteous cry. +Beneath this rock, O Lakshman, see, +My peerless consort sat with me, +And gently talked to thee the while, +Her sweet lips opening with a smile. +Here is that fairest stream which she +Loved ever, bright Godávarí. +Ne'er can the dame have passed this way: +So far alone she would not stray, +Nor has my darling, lotus-eyed, +Sought lilies by the river's side, +For without me she ne'er would go +To streamlets where the wild flowers grow, +Tell me not, brother, she has strayed +To the dark forest's distant shade +Where blooming boughs are gay and sweet, +And bright birds love the cool retreat. +Alone my love would never dare,-- +My timid love,--to wander there. + + O Lord of Day whose eye sees all +We act and plan, on thee I call: +For naught is hidden from thy sight,-- +Great witness thou of wrong and right. +Where is she, lost or torn away? +Dispel my torturing doubt and say. +And O thou Wind who blowest free, +The worlds have naught concealed from thee. +List to my prayer, reveal one trace +Of her, the glory of her race. +Say, is she stolen hence, or dead, +Or do her feet the forest tread?" + + Thus with disordered senses, faint +With woe he poured his sad complaint, +And then, a better way to teach, +Wise Lakshman spoke in seemly speech: +"Up, brother dear, thy grief subdue, +With heart and soul thy search renew. +When woes oppress and dangers threat +Brave effort ne'er was fruitless yet." + + He spoke, but Ráma gave no heed +To valiant Lakshman's prudent rede. +With double force the flood of pain +Rushed o'er his yielding soul again. + + + + +Canto LXV. Ráma's Wrath. + + +With piteous voice, by woe subdued, +Thus Raghu's son his speech renewed: + + "Thy steps, my brother, quickly turn +To bright Godávarí and learn +If Sítá to the stream have hied +To cull the lilies on its side." + + Obedient to the words he said, +His brother to the river sped. +The shelving banks he searched in vain, +And then to Ráma turned again. + + "I searched, but found her not," he cried; +"I called aloud, but none replied. +Where can the Maithil lady stray, +Whose sight would chase our cares away? +I know not where, her steps untraced, +Roams Sítá of the dainty waist." + + When Ráma heard the words he spoke +Again he sank beneath the stroke, +And with a bosom anguish-fraught +Himself the lovely river sought. +There standing on the shelving side, +"O Sítá, where art thou?" he cried. +No spirit voice an answer gave, +No murmur from the trembling wave +Of sweet Godávarí declared +The outrage which the fiend had dared. +"O speak!" the pitying spirits cried, +But yet the stream their prayer denied, +Nor dared she, coldly mute, relate +To the sad chief his darling's fate +Of Rávan's awful form she thought, +And the dire deed his arm had wrought, +And still withheld by fear dismayed, +The tale for which the mourner prayed. +When hope was none, his heart to cheer, +That the bright stream his cry would hear +While sorrow for his darling tore +His longing soul he spake once more: +"Though I have sought with tears and sighs +Godárvarí no word replies, +O say, what answer can I frame +To Janak, father of my dame? +Or how before her mother stand +Leading no Sítá by the hand? +Where is my loyal love who went +Forth with her lord to banishment? +Her faith to me she nobly held +Though from my realm and home expelled,-- +A hermit, nursed on woodland fare,-- +She followed still and soothed my care. +Of all my friends am I bereft, +Nor is my faithful consort left. +How slowly will the long nights creep +While comfortless I wake and weep! +O, if my wife may yet be found, +With humble love I'll wander round +This Janasthán, Prasravan's hill, +Mandákiní's delightful rill. +See how the deer with gentle eyes +Look on my face and sympathize. +I mark their soft expression: each +Would soothe me, if it could, with speech." + + A while the anxious throng he eyed. +And "Where is Sítá, where?" he cried. +Thus while hot tears his utterance broke +The mourning son of Raghu spoke. +The deer in pity for his woes +Obeyed the summons and arose. +Upon his right thy stood, and raised +Their sad eyes up to heaven and gazed +Each to that quarter bent her look +Which Rávan with his captive took. +Then Raghu's son again they viewed, +And toward that point their way pursued. +Then Lakshman watched their looks intent +As moaning on their way they went, +And marked each sign which struck his sense +With mute expressive influence, +Then as again his sorrow woke +Thus to his brother chief he spoke: +"Those deer thy eager question heard +And rose at once by pity stirred: +See, in thy search their aid they lend, +See, to the south their looks they bend. +Arise, dear brother, let us go +The way their eager glances show, +If haply sign or trace descried +Our footsteps in the search may guide." + + The son of Raghu gave assent, +And quickly to the south they went; +With eager eyes the earth he scanned, +And Lakshman followed close at hand. +As each to other spake his thought, +And round with anxious glances sought, +Scattered before them in the way, +Blooms of a fallen garland lay. +When Ráma saw that flowery rain +He spoke once more with bitterest pain: +"O Lakshman every flower that lies +Here on the ground I recognize. +I culled them in the grove, and there +My darling twined them in her hair. +The sun, the earth, the genial breeze +Have spared these flowers my soul to please." + + Then to that woody hill he prayed, +Whence flashed afar each wild cascade: +"O best of mountains, hast thou seen +A dame of perfect form and mien +In some sweet spot with trees o'ergrown,-- +My darling whom I left alone?" +Then as a lion threats a deer +He thundered with a voice of fear: +"Reveal her, mountain, to my view +With golden limbs and golden hue. +Where is my darling Sítá? speak +Before I rend thee peak from peak." + + The mountain seemed her track to show, +But told not all he sought to know. +Then Dasaratha's son renewed +His summons as the mount he viewed: +"Soon as my flaming arrows fly, +Consumed to ashes shall thou lie +Without a herb or bud or tree, +And birds no more shall dwell in thee. +And if this stream my prayer deny, +My wrath this day her flood shall dry, +Because she lends no aid to trace +My darling of the lotus face." + + Thus Ráma spake as though his ire +Would scorch them with his glance of fire; +Then searching farther on the ground +The footprint of a fiend he found, +And small light traces here and there, +Where Sítá in her great despair, +Shrieking for Ráma's help, had fled +Before the giant's mighty tread. +His careful eye each trace surveyed +Which Sítá and the fiend had made,-- +The quivers and the broken bow +And ruined chariot of the foe,-- +And told, distraught by fear and grief, +His tidings to his brother chief: +"O Lakshman, here," he cried "behold +My Sítá's earrings dropped with gold. +Here lie her garlands torn and rent, +Here lies each glittering ornament. +O look, the ground on every side +With blood-like drops of gold is dyed. +The fiends who wear each strange disguise +Have seized, I ween, the helpless prize. +My lady, by their hands o'erpowered, +Is slaughtered, mangled, and devoured. +Methinks two fearful giants came +And waged fierce battle for the dame. +Whose, Lakshman, was this mighty bow +With pearls and gems in glittering row? +Cast to the ground the fragments lie, +And still their glory charms the eye. +A bow so mighty sure was planned +For heavenly God or giant's hand. +Whose was this coat of golden mail +Which, though its lustre now is pale, +Shone like the sun of morning, bright +With studs of glittering lazulite? +Whose, Lakshman, was this bloom-wreathed shade +With all its hundred ribs displayed? +This screen, most meet for royal brow, +With broken staff lies useless now. +And these tall asses, goblin-faced, +With plates of golden harness graced, +Whose hideous forms are stained with gore +Who is the lord whose yoke they bore? +Whose was this pierced and broken car +That shoots a flame-like blaze afar? +Whose these spent shafts at random spread, +Each fearful with its iron head,-- +With golden mountings fair to see, +Long as a chariot's axle-tree? +These quivers see, which, rent in twain, +Their sheaves of arrows still contain. +Whose was this driver? Dead and cold, +His hands the whip and reins still hold. +See, Lakshman, here the foot I trace +Of man, nay, one of giant race. +The hatred that I nursed of old +Grows mightier now a hundred fold +Against these giants, fierce of heart, +Who change their forms by magic art. +Slain, eaten by the giant press, +Or stolen is the votaress, +Nor could her virtue bring defence +To Sítá seized and hurried hence. +O, if my love be slain or lost +All hope of bliss for me is crossed. +The power of all the worlds were vain +To bring one joy to soothe my pain. +The spirits with their blinded eyes +Would look in wonder, and despise +The Lord who made the worlds, the great +Creator when compassionate. +And so, I ween, the Immortals turn +Cold eyes upon me now, and spurn +The weakling prompt at pity's call, +Devoted to the good of all. +But from this day behold me changed, +From every gentle grace estranged. +Now be it mine all life to slay, +And sweep these cursed fiends away. +As the great sun leaps up the sky, +And the cold moonbeams fade and die, +So vengeance rises in my breast, +One passion conquering all the rest. +Gandharvas in their radiant place, +The Yakshas, and the giant race, +Kinnars and men shall look in vain +For joy they ne'er shall see again. +The anguish of my great despair, +O Lakshman, fills the heaven and air; +And I in wrath all life will slay +Within the triple world to-day. +Unless the Gods in heaven who dwell +Restore my Sítá safe and well, +I armed with all the fires of Fate, +The triple world will devastate. +The troubled stars from heaven shall fall, +The moon be wrapped in gloomy pall, +The fire be quenched, the wind be stilled, +The radiant sun grow dark and chilled; +Crushed every mountain's towering pride, +And every lake and river dried, +Dead every creeper, plant, and tree, +And lost for aye the mighty sea. +Thou shalt the world this day behold +In wild disorder uncontrolled, +With dying life which naught defends +From the fierce storm my bowstring sends. +My shafts this day, for Sítá's sake, +The life of every fiend shall take. +The Gods this day shall see the force +That wings my arrows on their course, +And mark how far that course is held, +By my unsparing wrath impelled. +No God, not one of Daitya strain, +Goblin or Rákshas shall remain. +My wrath shall end the worlds, and all +Demons and Gods therewith shall fall. +Each world which Gods, the Dánav race, +And giants make their dwelling place, +Shall fall beneath my arrows sent +In fury when my bow is bent. +The arrows loosened from my string +Confusion on the worlds shall bring. +For she is lost or breathes no more, +Nor will the Gods my love restore. +Hence all on earth with life and breath +This day I dedicate to death. +All, till my darling they reveal, +The fury of my shafts shall feel." + + Thus as he spake by rage impelled, +Red grew his eyes, his fierce lips swelled. +His bark coat round his form he drew +And coiled his hermit braids anew, +Like Rudra when he yearned to slay +The demon Tripur(509) in the fray. +So looked the hero brave and wise, +The fury flashing from his eyes. +Then Ráma, conqueror of the foe, +From Lakshman's hand received his bow, +Strained the great string, and laid thereon +A deadly dart that flashed and shone, +And spake these words as fierce in ire +As He who ends the worlds with fire: + + "As age and time and death and fate +All life with checkless power await, +So Lakshman in my wrath to-day +My vengeful might shall brook no stay, +Unless this day I see my dame +In whose sweet form is naught to blame,-- +Yea, as before, my love behold +Fair with bright teeth and perfect mould, +This world shall feel a deadly blow +Destroyed with ruthless overthrow, +And serpent lords and Gods of air, +Gandharvas, men, the doom shall share." + + + + +Canto LXVI. Lakshman's Speech. + + +He stood incensed with eyes of flame, +Still mourning for his ravished dame, +Determined, like the fire of Fate, +To leave the wide world desolate. +His ready bow the hero eyed, +And as again, again he sighed, +The triple world would fain consume +Like Hara(510) in the day of doom. +Then Lakshman moved with sorrow viewed +His brother in unwonted mood, +And reverent palm to palm applied, +Thus spoke with lips which terror dried +"Thy heart was ever soft and kind, +To every creature's good inclined. +Cast not thy tender mood away, +Nor yield to anger's mastering sway. +The moon for gentle grace is known, +The sun has splendour all his own, +The restless wind is free and fast, +And earth in patience unsurpassed. +So glory with her noble fruit +Is thine eternal attribute. +O, let not, for the sin of one, +The triple world be all undone. +I know not whose this car that lies +In fragments here before our eyes, +Nor who the chiefs who met and fought, +Nor what the prize the foemen sought; +Who marked the ground with hoof and wheel, +Or whose the hand that plied the steel +Which left this spot, the battle o'er, +Thus sadly dyed with drops of gore. +Searching with utmost care I view +The signs of one and not of two. +Where'er I turn mine eyes I trace +No mighty host about the place. +Then mete not out for one offence +This all-involving recompense. +For kings should use the sword they bear, +But mild in time should learn to spare, +Thou, ever moved by misery's call, +Wast the great hope and stay of all. +Throughout this world who would not blame +This outrage on thy ravished dame? +Gandharvas, Dánavs, Gods, the trees, +The rocks, the rivers, and the seas, +Can ne'er in aught thy soul offend, +As one whom holiest rites befriend. +But him who dared to steal the dame +Pursue, O King, with ceaseless aim, +With me, the hermits' holy band, +And thy great bow to arm thy hand +By every mighty flood we'll seek, +Each wood, each hill from base to peak. +To the fair homes of Gods we'll fly, +And bright Gandharvas in the sky, +Until we reach, where'er he be, +The wretch who stole thy spouse from thee. +Then if the Gods will not restore +Thy Sítá when the search is o'er, +Then, royal lord of Kosal's land, +No longer hold thy vengeful hand. +If meekness, prayer, and right be weak +To bring thee back the dame we seek, +Up, brother, with a deadly shower +Of gold-bright shafts thy foes o'erpower, +Fierce as the flashing levin sent +From King Mahendra's firmament. + + + + +Canto LXVII. Ráma Appeased. + + +As Ráma, pierced by sorrow's sting, +Lamented like a helpless thing, +And by his mighty woe distraught +Was lost in maze of troubled thought, +Sumitrá's son with loving care +Consoled him in his wild despair, +And while his feet he gently pressed +With words like these the chief addressed: +"For sternest vow and noblest deed +Was Dasaratha blessed with seed. +Thee for his son the king obtained, +Like Amrit by the Gods regained. +Thy gentle graces won his heart, +And all too weak to live apart +The monarch died, as Bharat told, +And lives on high mid Gods enrolled. +If thou, O Ráma, wilt not bear +This grief which fills thee with despair, +How shall a weaker man e'er hope, +Infirm and mean, with woe to cope? +Take heart, I pray thee, noblest chief: +What man who breathes is free from grief? +Misfortunes come and burn like flame, +Then fly as quickly as they came. +Yayáti son of Nahush reigned +With Indra on the throne he gained. +But falling for a light offence +He mourned a while the consequence. +Vasishtha, reverend saint and sage, +Priest of our sire from youth to age, +Begot a hundred sons, but they +Were smitten in a single day.(511) +And she, the queen whom all revere, +The mother whom we hold so dear, +The earth herself not seldom feels +Fierce fever when she shakes and reels. +And those twin lights, the world's great eyes, +On which the universe relies,-- +Does not eclipse at times assail +Their brilliance till their fires grow pale? +The mighty Powers, the Immortal Blest +Bend to a law which none contest. +No God, no bodied life is free +From conquering Fate's supreme decree. +E'en Sakra's self must reap the meed +Of virtue and of sinful deed. +And O great lord of men, wilt thou +Helpless beneath thy misery bow? +No, if thy dame be lost or dead, +O hero, still be comforted, +Nor yield for ever to thy woe +O'ermastered like the mean and low. +Thy peers, with keen far-reaching eyes, +Spend not their hours in ceaseless sighs; +In dire distress, in whelming ill +Their manly looks are hopeful still. +To this, great chief, thy reason bend, +And earnestly the truth perpend. +By reason's aid the wisest learn +The good and evil to discern. +With sin and goodness scarcely known +Faint light by chequered lives is shown; +Without some clear undoubted deed +We mark not how the fruits succeed. +In time of old, O thou most brave, +To me thy lips such counsel gave. +Vrihaspati(512) can scarcely find +New wisdom to instruct thy mind. +For thine is wit and genius high +Meet for the children of the sky. +I rouse that heart benumbed by pain +And call to vigorous life again. +Be manly godlike vigour shown; +Put forth that noblest strength, thine own. +Strive, best of old Ikshváku's strain, +Strive till the conquered foe be slain. +Where is the profit or the joy +If thy fierce rage the worlds destroy? +Search till thou find the guilty foe, +Then let thy hand no mercy show." + + + + +Canto LXVIII. Jatáyus. + + +Thus faithful Lakshman strove to cheer +The prince with counsel wise and clear. +Who, prompt to seize the pith of all, +Let not that wisdom idly fall. +With vigorous effort he restrained +The passion in his breast that reigned, +And leaning on his bow for rest +His brother Lakshman thus addressed: +"How shall we labour now, reflect; +Whither again our search direct? +Brother, what plan canst thou devise +To bring her to these longing eyes?" + + To him by toil and sorrow tried +The prudent Lakshman thus replied: +"Come, though our labour yet be vain, +And search through Janasthán again,-- +A realm where giant foes abound, +And trees and creepers hide the ground. +For there are caverns deep and dread, +By deer and wild birds tenanted, +And hills with many a dark abyss, +Grotto and rock and precipice. +There bright Gandharvas love to dwell, +And Kinnars in each bosky dell. +With me thy eager search to aid +Be every hill and cave surveyed. +Great chiefs like thee, the best of men, +Endowed with sense and piercing ken, +Though tried by trouble never fail, +Like rooted hills that mock the gale." + + Then Ráma, pierced by anger's sting, +Laid a keen arrow on his string, +And by the faithful Lakshman's side +Roamed through the forest far and wide. +Jatáyus there with blood-drops dyed, +Lying upon the ground he spied, +Huge as a mountain's shattered crest, +Mid all the birds of air the best. +In wrath the mighty bird he eyed, +And thus the chief to Lakshman cried: + + "Ah me, these signs the truth betray; +My darling was the vulture's prey. +Some demon in the bird's disguise +Roams through the wood that round us lies. +On large-eyed Sítá he has fed, +And rests him now with wings outspread. +But my keen shafts whose flight is true, +Shall pierce the ravenous monster through." + + An arrow on the string he laid, +And rushing near the bird surveyed, +While earth to ocean's distant side +Trembled beneath his furious stride. +With blood and froth on neck and beak +The dying bird essayed to speak, +And with a piteous voice, distressed, +Thus Dasaratha's son addressed: + + "She whom like some sweet herb of grace +Thou seekest in this lonely place, +Fair lady, is fierce Rávan's prey, +Who took, beside, my life away. +Lakshman and thou had parted hence +And left the dame without defence. +I saw her swiftly borne away +By Rávan's might which none could stay. +I hurried to the lady's aid, +I crushed his car and royal shade, +And putting forth my warlike might +Hurled Rávan to the earth in fight. +Here, Ráma, lies his broken bow, +Here lie the arrows of the foe. +There on the ground before thee are +The fragments of his battle car. +There bleeds the driver whom my wings +Beat down with ceaseless buffetings. +When toil my aged strength subdued, +His sword my weary pinions hewed. +Then lifting up the dame he bare +His captive through the fields of air. +Thy vengeful blows from me restrain, +Already by the giant slain." + + When Ráma heard the vulture tell +The tale that proved his love so well, +His bow upon the ground he placed, +And tenderly the bird embraced: +Then to the earth he fell o'erpowered, +And burning tears both brothers showered, +For double pain and anguish pressed +Upon the patient hero's breast. +The solitary bird he eyed +Who in the lone wood gasped and sighed, +And as again his anguish woke +Thus Ráma to his brother spoke: + + "Expelled from power the woods I tread, +My spouse is lost, the bird is dead. +A fate so sad, I ween, would tame +The vigour of the glorious flame. +If I to cool my fever tried +To cross the deep from side to side, +The sea,--so hard my fate,--would dry +His waters as my feet came nigh. +In all this world there lives not one +So cursed as I beneath the sun; +So strong a net of misery cast +Around me holds the captive fast, +Best of all birds that play the wing, +Loved, honoured by our sire the king, +The vulture, in my fate enwound, +Lies bleeding, dying on the ground." + + Then Ráma and his brother stirred +By pity mourned the royal bird, +And, as their hands his limbs caressed, +Affection for a sire expressed. +And Ráma to his bosom strained +The bird with mangled wings distained, + With crimson blood-drops dyed. +He fell, and shedding many a tear, +"Where is my spouse than life more dear? + Where is my love?" he cried. + + + + +Canto LXIX. The Death Of Jatáyus. + + +As Ráma viewed with heart-felt pain +The vulture whom the fiend had slain, +In words with tender love impressed +His brother chief he thus addressed: + + "This royal bird with faithful thought +For my advantage strove and fought. +Slain by the fiend in mortal strife +For me he yields his noble life. +See, Lakshman, how his wounds have bled; +His struggling breath will soon have fled. +Faint is his voice, and near to die, +He scarce can lift his trembling eye. +Jatáyus, if thou still can speak, +Give, give the answer that I seek. +The fate of ravished Sítá tell, +And how thy mournful chance befell. +Say why the giant stole my dame: +What have I done that he could blame? +What fault in me has Rávan seen +That he should rob me of my queen? +How looked the lady's moon-bright cheek? +What were the words she found to speak? +His strength, his might, his deeds declare: +And tell the form he loves to wear. +To all my questions make reply: +Where does the giant's dwelling lie?" + + The noble bird his glances bent +On Ráma as he made lament, +And in low accents faint and weak +With anguish thus began to speak: +"Fierce Rávan, king of giant race, +Stole Sítá from thy dwelling-place. +He calls his magic art to aid +With wind and cloud and gloomy shade. +When in the fight my power was spent +My wearied wings he cleft and rent. +Then round the dame his arms he threw, +And to the southern region flew. +O Raghu's son, I gasp for breath, +My swimming sight is dim in death. +E'en now before my vision pass +Bright trees of gold with hair of grass, +The hour the impious robber chose +Brings on the thief a flood of woes. +The giant in his haste forgot +'Twas Vinda's hour,(513) or heeded not. +Those robbed at such a time obtain +Their plundered store and wealth again. +He, like a fish that takes the bait, +In briefest time shall meet his fate. +Now be thy troubled heart controlled +And for thy lady's loss consoled, +For thou wilt slay the fiend in fight +And with thy dame have new delight." + + With senses clear, though sorely tried, +The royal vulture thus replied, +While as he sank beneath his pain +Forth rushed the tide of blood again. +"Him,(514) brother of the Lord of Gold, +Visravas' self begot of old." +Thus spoke the bird, and stained with gore +Resigned the breath that came no more. + + "Speak, speak again!" thus Ráma cried, +With reverent palm to palm applied, +But from the frame the spirit fled +And to the skiey regions sped. +The breath of life had passed away. +Stretched on the ground the body lay. + + When Ráma saw the vulture lie, +Huge as a hill, with darksome eye, +With many a poignant woe distressed +His brother chief he thus addressed: +"Amid these haunted shades content +Full many a year this bird has spent. +His life in home of giants passed, +In Dandak wood he dies at last. +The years in lengthened course have fled +Untroubled o'er the vulture's head, +And now he lies in death, for none +The stern decrees of Fate may shun. +See, Lakshman, how the vulture fell +While for my sake he battled well. +And strove to free with onset bold +My Sítá from the giant's hold. +Supreme amid the vulture kind +His ancient rule the bird resigned, +And conquered in the fruitless strife +Gave for my sake his noble life. +O Lakshman, many a time we see +Great souls who keep the law's decree, +With whom the weak sure refuge find, +In creatures of inferior kind. +The loss of her, my darling queen, +Strikes with a pang less fiercely keen +Than now this slaughtered bird to see +Who nobly fought and died for me. +As Dasaratha, good and great, +Was glorious in his high estate, +Honoured by all, to all endeared, +So was this royal bird revered. +Bring fuel for the funeral rite: +These hands the solemn fire shall light +And on the burning pyre shall lay +The bird who died for me to-day. +Now on the gathered wood shall lie +The lord of all the birds that fly, +And I will burn with honours due +My champion whom the giant slew. +O royal bird of noblest heart, +Graced with all funeral rites depart +To bright celestial seats above, +Rewarded for thy faithful love. +Dwell in thy happy home with those +Whose constant fires of worship rose. +Live blest amid the unyielding brave, +And those who land in largess gave." + + Sore grief upon his bosom weighed +As on the pyre the bird he laid, +And bade the kindled flame ascend +To burn the body of his friend. +Then with his brother by his side +The hero to the forest hied. +There many a stately deer he slew, +The flesh around the bird to strew. +The venison into balls he made, +And on fair grass before him laid. +Then that the parted soul might rise +And find free passage to the skies, +Each solemn word and text he said +Which Bráhmans utter o'er the dead. +Then hastening went the princely pair +To bright Godávarí, and there +Libations of the stream they poured +In honour of the vulture lord, +With solemn ritual to the slain, +As scripture's holy texts ordain. +Thus offerings to the bird they gave +And bathed their bodies in the wave. + +The vulture monarch having wrought + A hard and glorious feat, +Honoured by Ráma sage in thought, + Soared to his blissful seat. +The brothers, when each rite was paid + To him of birds supreme, +Their hearts with new-found comfort stayed, + And turned them from the stream. +Like sovereigns of celestial race + Within the wood they came, +Each pondering the means to trace, + The captor of the dame. + + + + +Canto LXX. Kabandha. + + +When every rite was duly paid +The princely brothers onward strayed, +And eager in the lady's quest +They turned their footsteps to the west. +Through lonely woods that round them lay +Ikshváku's children made their way, +And armed with bow and shaft and brand +Pressed onward to the southern land. +Thick trees and shrubs and creepers grew +In the wild grove they hurried through. +'Twas dark and drear and hard to pass +For tangled thorns and matted grass. +Still onward with a southern course +They made their way with vigorous force, +And passing through the mazes stood +Beyond that vast and fearful wood. +With toil and hardship yet unspent +Three leagues from Janasthán they went, +And speeding on their way at last +Within the wood of Krauncha(515) passed: +A fearful forest wild and black +As some huge pile of cloudy rack, +Filled with all birds and beasts, where grew +Bright blooms of every varied hue. +On Sítá bending every thought +Through all the mighty wood they sought, +And at the lady's loss dismayed +Here for a while and there they stayed. +Then turning farther eastward they +Pursued three leagues their weary way, +Passed Krauncha's wood and reached the grove +Where elephants rejoiced to rove. +The chiefs that awful wood surveyed +Where deer and wild birds filled each glade, +Where scarce a step the foot could take +For tangled shrub and tree and brake. +There in a mountain's woody side +A cave the royal brothers spied, +With dread abysses deep as hell, +Where darkness never ceased to dwell. +When, pressing on, the lords of men +Stood near the entrance of the den, +They saw within the dark recess +A huge misshapen giantess; +A thing the timid heart that shook +With fearful shape and savage look. +Terrific fiend, her voice was fierce, +Long were her teeth to rend and pierce. +The monster gorged her horrid feast +Of flesh of many a savage beast, +While her long locks, at random flung, +Dishevelled o'er her shoulders hung. +Their eyes the royal brothers raised, +And on the fearful monster gazed. +Forth from her den she came and glanced +At Lakshman as he first advanced, +Her eager arms to hold him spread, +And "Come and be my love" she said, +Then as she held him to her breast, +The prince in words like these addressed: +"Behold thy treasure fond and fair: +Ayomukhi(516) the name I bear. +In thickets of each lofty hill, +On islets of each brook and rill, +With me delighted shalt thou play, +And live for many a lengthened day." + + Enraged he heard the monster woo; +His ready sword he swiftly drew, +And the sharp steel that quelled his foes +Cut through her breast and ear and nose. +Thus mangled by his vengeful sword +In rage and pain the demon roared, +And hideous with her awful face +Sped to her secret dwelling place. +Soon as the fiend had fled from sight, +The brothers, dauntless in their might, +Reached a wild forest dark and dread +Whose tangled ways were hard to tread. +Then bravest Lakshman, virtuous youth, +The friend of purity and truth, +With reverent palm to palm applied +Thus to his glorious brother cried: + + "My arm presaging throbs amain, +My troubled heart is sick with pain, +And cheerless omens ill portend +Where'er my anxious eyes I bend. +Dear brother, hear my words: advance +Resolved and armed for every chance, +For every sign I mark to-day +Foretells a peril in the way. +This bird of most ill-omened note, +Loud screaming with discordant throat, +Announces with a warning cry +That strife and victory are nigh." + + Then as the chiefs their search pursued +Throughout the dreary solitude, +They heard amazed a mighty sound +That broke the very trees around, +As though a furious tempest passed +Crushing the wood beneath its blast. +Then Ráma raised his trusty sword, +And both the hidden cause explored. +There stood before their wondering eyes +A fiend broad-chested, huge of size. +A vast misshapen trunk they saw +In height surpassing nature's law. +It stood before them dire and dread +Without a neck, without a head. +Tall as some hill aloft in air, +Its limbs were clothed with bristling hair, +And deep below the monster's waist +His vast misshapen mouth was placed. +His form was huge, his voice was loud +As some dark-tinted thunder cloud. +Forth from his ample chest there came +A brilliance as of gushing flame. +Beneath long lashes, dark and keen +The monster's single eye was seen. +Deep in his chest, long, fiercely bright, +It glittered with terrific light. +He swallowed down his savage fare +Of lion, bird, and slaughtered bear, +And with huge teeth exposed to view +O'er his great lips his tongue he drew. +His arms unshapely, vast and dread, +A league in length, he raised and spread. +He seized with monstrous hands a herd +Of deer and many a bear and bird. +Among them all he picked and chose, +Drew forward these, rejected those. +Before the princely pair he stood +Barring their passage through the wood. +A league of shade the chiefs had passed +When on the fiend their eyes they cast. +A monstrous shape without a head +With mighty arms before him spread, +They saw that hideous trunk appear +That struck the trembling eye with fear. +Then, stretching to their full extent +His awful arms with fingers bent, +Round Raghu's princely sons he cast +Each grasping limb and held them fast. +Though strong of arm and fierce in fight, +Each armed with bow and sword to smite, +The royal brothers, brave and bold, +Were helpless in the giant's hold. +Then Raghu's son, heroic still, +Felt not a pang his bosom thrill; +But young, with no protection near, +His brother's heart was sad with fear, +And thus with trembling tongue he said +To Ráma, sore disquieted: + + "Ah me, ah me, my days are told: +O see me in the giant's hold. +Fly, son of Raghu, swiftly flee, +And thy dear self from danger free. +Me to the fiend an offering give; +Fly at thine ease thyself and live. +Thou, great Kakutstha's son, I ween, +Wilt find ere long thy Maithil queen, +And when thou holdest, throned again, +Thine old hereditary reign, +With servants prompt to do thy will, +O think upon thy brother still." +As thus the trembling Lakshman cried, +The dauntless Ráma thus replied: +"Brother, from causeless dread forbear. +A chief like thee should scorn despair." +He spoke to soothe his wild alarm: +Then fierce Kabandha(517) long of arm, +Among the Dánavs(518) first and best, +The sons of Raghu thus addressed: +"What men are you, whose shoulders show +Broad as a bull's, with sword and bow, +Who roam this dark and horrid place, +Brought by your fate before my face? +Declare by what occasion led +These solitary wilds you tread, +With swords and bows and shafts to pierce, +Like bulls whose horns are strong and fierce. +Why have you sought this forest land +Where wild with hunger's pangs I stand? +Now as your steps my path have crossed +Esteem your lives already lost." + + The royal brothers heard with dread +The words which fierce Kabandha said. +And Ráma to his brother cried, +Whose cheek by blanching fear was dried: + + "Alas, we fall, O valiant chief, +From sorrow into direr grief, +Still mourning her I hold so dear +We see our own destruction near. +Mark, brother, mark what power has time +O'er all that live, in every clime. +Now, lord of men, thyself and me +Involved in fatal danger see. +'Tis not, be sure, the might of Fate +That crushes all with deadly weight. +Ne'er can the brave and strong, who know +The use of spear and sword and bow, +The force of conquering time withstand, +But fall like barriers built of sand." + +Thus in calm strength which naught could shake +The son of Dasaratha spake, + With glory yet unstained +Upon Sumitrá's son he bent +His eyes, and firm in his intent + His dauntless heart maintained. + + + + +Canto LXXI. Kabandha's Speech. + + +Kabandha saw each chieftain stand +Imprisoned by his mighty hand, +Which like a snare around him pressed +And thus the royal pair addressed: +"Why, warriors, are your glances bent +On me whom hungry pangs torment? +Why stand with wildered senses? Fate +Has brought you now my maw to sate." + + When Lakshman heard, a while appalled, +His ancient courage he recalled, +And to his brother by his side +With seasonable counsel cried: + + "This vilest of the giant race +Will draw us to his side apace. +Come, rouse thee; let the vengeful sword +Smite off his arms, my honoured lord. +This awful giant, vast of size, +On his huge strength of arm relies, +And o'er the world victorious, thus +With mighty force would slaughter us. +But in cold blood to slay, O King, +Discredit on the brave would bring, +As when some victim in the rite +Shuns not the hand upraised to smite." + + The monstrous fiend, to anger stirred, +The converse of the brothers heard. +His horrid mouth he opened wide +And drew the princes to his side. +They, skilled due time and place to note +Unsheathed their glittering swords and smote, +Till from the giant's shoulders they +Had hewn the mighty arms away. +His trenchant falchion Ráma plied +And smote him on the better side, +While valiant Lakshman on the left +The arm that held him prisoned cleft. +Then to the earth dismembered fell +The monster with a hideous yell, +And like a cloud's his deep roar went +Through earth and air and firmament. +Then as the giant's blood flowed fast, +On his cleft limbs his eye he cast, +And called upon the princely pair +Their names and lineage to declare. +Him then the noble Lakshman, blest +With fortune's favouring marks, addressed, +And told the fiend his brother's name +And the high blood of which he came: +"Ikshváku's heir here Ráma stands, +Illustrious through a hundred lands. +I, younger brother of the heir, +O fiend, the name of Lakshman bear. +His mother stole his realm away +And drove him forth in woods to stray. +Thus through the mighty forest he +Roamed with his royal wife and me. +While glorious as a God he made +His dwelling in the greenwood shade, +Some giant stole away his dame, +And seeking her we hither came. +But tell me who thou art, and why +With headless trunk that towered so high, +With flaming face beneath thy chest, +Thou liest crushed in wild unrest." + + He heard the words that Lakshman spoke, +And memory in his breast awoke, +Recalling Indra's words to mind +He spoke in gentle tones and kind: +"O welcome best of men, are ye +Whom, blest by fate, this day I see. +A blessing on each trenchant blade +That low on earth these arms has laid! +Thou, lord of men, incline thine ear +The story of my woe to hear, +While I the rebel pride declare +Which doomed me to the form I wear." + + + + +Canto LXXII. Kabandha's Tale. + + +"Lord of the mighty arm, of yore +A shape transcending thought I wore, +And through the triple world's extent +My fame for might and valour went. +Scarce might the sun and moon on high, +Scarce Sakra, with my beauty vie. +Then for a time this form I took, +And the great world with trembling shook. +The saints in forest shades who dwelt +The terror of my presence felt. +But once I stirred to furious rage +Great Sthúlasiras, glorious sage. +Culling in woods his hermit food +My hideous shape with fear he viewed. +Then forth his words of anger burst +That bade me live a thing accursed: +"Thou, whose delight is others' pain, +This grisly form shalt still retain." + + Then when I prayed him to relent +And fix some term of punishment,-- +Prayed that the curse at length might cease, +He bade me thus expect release: +"Let Ráma cleave thine arms away +And on the pyre thy body lay, +And then shalt thou, set free from doom, +Thine own fair shape once more assume." +O Lakshman, hear my words: in me +The world-illustrious Danu see. +By Indra's curse, subdued in fight, +I wear this form which scares the sight. +By sternest penance long maintained +The mighty Father's grace I gained. +When length of days the God bestowed, +With foolish pride my bosom glowed. +My life, of lengthened years assured, +I deemed from Sakra's might secured. +Let by my senseless pride astray +I challenged Indra to the fray. +A flaming bolt with many a knot +With his terrific arm he shot, +And straight my head and thighs compressed +Were buried in my bulky chest. +Deaf to each prayer and piteous call +He sent me not to Yáma's hall. +"Thy prayers and cries," he said "are vain: +The Father's word must true remain." +"But how may lengthened life be spent +By one the bolt has torn and rent? +How can I live," I cried, "unfed, +With shattered face and thighs and head?" +As thus I spoke his grace to crave, +Arms each a league in length he gave, +And opened in my chest beneath +This mouth supplied with fearful teeth. +So my huge arms I used to cast +Round woodland creatures as they passed, +And fed within the forest here +On lion, tiger, pard, and deer. +Then Indra spake to soothe my grief: +"When Ráma and his brother chief +From thy huge bulk those arms shall cleave, +Then shall the skies thy soul receive." +Disguised in this terrific shape +I let no woodland thing escape, +And still my longing soul was pleased +Whene'er my arms a victim seized, +For in these arms I fondly thought +Would Ráma's self at last be caught. +Thus hoping, toiling many a day +I yearned to cast my life away, +And here, my lord, thou standest now: +Blessings be thine! for none but thou +Could cleave my arms with trenchant stroke: +True are the words the hermit spoke. +Now let me, best of warriors, lend +My counsel, and thy plans befriend, +And aid thee with advice in turn +If thou with fire my corse wilt burn." + + As thus the mighty Danu prayed +With offer of his friendly aid, +While Lakshman gazed with anxious eye, +The virtuous Ráma made reply: +"Lakshman and I through forest shade +From Janasthán a while had strayed. +When none was near her, Rávan came +And bore away my glorious dame, +The giant's form and size unknown, +I learn as yet his name alone. +Not yet the power and might we know +Or dwelling of the monstrous foe. +With none our helpless feet to guide +We wander here by sorrow tried. +Let pity move thee to requite +Our service in the funeral rite. +Our hands shall bring the boughs that, dry +Where elephants have rent them, lie, +Then dig a pit, and light the fire +To burn thee as the laws require. +Do thou as meed of this declare +Who stole my spouse, his dwelling where. +O, if thou can, I pray thee say, +And let this grace our deeds repay." + + Danu had lent attentive ear +The words which Ráma spoke to hear, +And thus, a speaker skilled and tried, +To that great orator replied: +"No heavenly lore my soul endows, +Naught know I of thy Maithil spouse. +Yet will I, when my shape I wear, +Him who will tell thee all declare. +Then, Ráma, will my lips disclose +His name who well that giant knows. +But till the flames my corse devour +This hidden knowledge mocks my power. +For through that curse's withering taint +My knowledge now is small and faint. +Unknown the giant's very name +Who bore away the Maithil dame. +Cursed for my evil deeds I wore +A shape which all the worlds abhor. +Now ere with wearied steeds the sun +Through western skies his course have run, +Deep in a pit my body lay +And burn it in the wonted way. +When in the grave my corse is placed, +With fire and funeral honours graced, +Then I, great chief, his name will tell +Who knows the giant robber well. +With him, who guides his life aright, +In league of trusting love unite, +And he, O valiant prince, will be +A faithful friend and aid to thee. +For, Ráma, to his searching eyes +The triple world uncovered lies. +For some dark cause of old, I ween, +Through all the spheres his ways have been." + + + + +Canto LXXIII. Kabandha's Counsel. + + +The monster ceased: the princely pair +Heard great Kabandha's eager prayer. +Within a mountain cave they sped, +Where kindled fire with care they fed. +Then Lakshman in his mighty hands +Brought ample store of lighted brands, +And to a pile of logs applied +The flame that ran from side to side. +The spreading glow with gentle force +Consumed Kabandha's mighty corse, +Till the unresting flames had drunk +The marrow of the monstrous trunk, +As balls of butter melt away +Amid the fires that o'er them play. +Then from the pyre, like flame that glows +Undimmed by cloudy smoke, he rose, +In garments pure of spot or speck, +A heavenly wreath about his neck. +Resplendent in his bright attire +He sprang exultant from the pyre. +While from neck, arm, and foot was sent +The flash of gold and ornament. +High on a chariot, bright of hue, +Which swans of fairest pinion drew, +He filled each region of the air +With splendid glow reflected there. +Then in the sky he stayed his car +And called to Ráma from afar: +"Hear, chieftain, while my lips explain +The means to win thy spouse again. +Six plans, O prince, the wise pursue +To reach the aims we hold in view.(519) +When evils ripening sorely press +They load the wretch with new distress, +So thou and Lakshman, tried by woe, +Have felt at last a fiercer blow, +And plunged in bitterest grief to-day +Lament thy consort torn away. +There is no course but this: attend; +Make, best of friends, that chief thy friend. +Unless his prospering help thou gain +Thy plans and hopes must all be vain. +O Ráma, hear my words, and seek, +Sugríva, for of him I speak. +His brother Báli, Indra's son, +Expelled him when the fight was won. +With four great chieftains, faithful still, +He dwells on Rishyamúka's hill.-- +Fair mountain, lovely with the flow +Of Pampá's waves that glide below,-- +Lord of the Vánars(520) just and true, +Strong, very glorious, bright to view, +Unmatched in counsel, firm and meek, +Bound by each word his lips may speak, +Good, splendid, mighty, bold and brave, +Wise in each plan to guide and save. +His brother, fired by lust of sway, +Drove forth the prince in woods to stray. +In all thy search for Sítá he +Thy ready friend and help will be. +With him to aid thee in thy quest +Dismiss all sorrow from thy breast. +Time is a mighty power, and none +His fixed decree can change or shun. +So rich reward thy toil shall bless, +And naught can stay thy sure success. +Speed hence, O chief, without delay, +To strong Sugríva take thy way. +This hour thy footsteps onward bend, +And make that mighty prince thy friend. +With him before the attesting flame +In solemn truth alliance frame. +Nor wilt thou, if thy heart be wise, +Sugríva, Vánar king, despise. +Of boundless strength, all shapes he wears, +He hearkens to a suppliant's prayers, +And, grateful for each kindly deed, +Will help and save in hour of need. +And you, I ween, the power possess +To aid his hopes and give redress. +He, let his cause succeed or fail, +Will help you, and you must prevail. +A banished prince, in fear and woe +He roams where Pampá's waters flow, +True offspring of the Lord of Light +Expelled by Báli's conquering might. +Go, Raghu's son, that chieftain seek +Who dwells on Rishyamúka's peak. +Before the flame thy weapons cast +And bind the bonds of friendship fast. +For, prince of all the Vánar race, +He in his wisdom knows each place +Where dwell the fierce gigantic brood +Who make the flesh of man their food. +To him, O Raghu's son, to him +Naught in the world is dark or dim, +Where'er the mighty Day-God gleams +Resplendent with a thousand beams. +He over rocky height and hill, +Through gloomy cave, by lake and rill, +Will with his Vánars seek the prize, +And tell thee where thy lady lies. +And he will send great chieftains forth +To east and west and south and north, +To seek the distant spot where she +All desolate laments for thee. +He even in Rávan's halls would find +Thy Sítá, gem of womankind. + Yea, if the blameless lady lay + On Meru's loftiest steep, + Or, far removed from light of day, + Where hell is dark and deep, + That chief of all the Vánar race + His way would still explore, + Meet the cowed giants face to face + And thy dear spouse restore." + + + + +Canto LXXIV. Kabandha's Death. + + +When wise Kabandha thus had taught +The means to find the dame they sought, +And urged them onward in the quest, +He thus again the prince addressed: + + "This path, O Raghu's son, pursue +Where those fair trees which charm the view, +Extending westward far away, +The glory of their bloom display, +Where their bright leaves Rose-apples show, +And the tall Jak and Mango grow. +Whene'er you will, those trees ascend, +Or the long branches shake and bend, +Their savoury fruit like Amrit eat, +Then onward speed with willing feet. +Beyond this shady forest, decked +With flowering trees, your course direct. +Another grove you then will find +With every joy to take the mind, +Like Nandan with its charms displayed, +Or Northern Kuru's blissful shade; +Where trees distil their balmy juice, +And fruit through all the year produce; +Where shades with seasons ever fair +With Chaitraratha may compare: +Where trees whose sprays with fruit are bowed +Rise like a mountain or a cloud. +There, when you list, from time to time, +The loaded trees may Lakshman climb, +Or from the shaken boughs supply +Sweet fruit that may with Amrit vie. +The onward path pursuing still +From wood to wood, from hill to hill, +Your happy eyes at length will rest +On Pampá's lotus-covered breast. +Her banks with gentle slope descend, +Nor stones nor weed the eyes offend, +And o'er smooth beds of silver sand +Lotus and lily blooms expand. +There swans and ducks and curlews play, +And keen-eyed ospreys watch their prey, +And from the limpid waves are heard +Glad notes of many a water-bird. +Untaught a deadly foe to fear +They fly not when a man is near, +And fat as balls of butter they +Will, when you list, your hunger stay. +Then Lakshman with his shafts will take +The fish that swim the brook and lake, +Remove each bone and scale and fin, +Or strip away the speckled skin, +And then on iron skewers broil +For thy repast the savoury spoil. +Thou on a heap of flowers shalt rest +And eat the meal his hands have dressed, +There shalt thou lie on Pampá's brink, +And Lakshman's hand shall give thee drink, +Filling a lotus leaf with cool +Pure water from the crystal pool, +To which the opening blooms have lent +The riches of divinest scent. +Beside thee at the close of day +Will Lakshman through the woodland stray, +And show thee where the monkeys sleep +In caves beneath the mountain steep. +Loud-voiced as bulls they forth will burst +And seek the flood, oppressed by thirst; +Then rest a while, their wants supplied, +Their well-fed bands on Pampá's side. +Thou roving there at eve shalt see +Rich clusters hang on shrub and tree, +And Pampá flushed with roseate glow, +And at the view forget thy woe. +There shalt thou mark with strange delight +Each loveliest flower that blooms by night, +While lily buds that shrink from day +Their tender loveliness display. +In that far wild no hand but thine +Those peerless flowers in wreaths shall twine: +Immortal in their changeless pride, +Ne'er fade those blooms and ne'er are dried. +There erst on holy thoughts intent +Their days Matanga's pupils spent. +Once for their master food they sought, +And store of fruit and berries brought. +Then as they laboured through the dell +From limb and brow the heat-drops fell: +Thence sprang and bloomed those wondrous trees: +Such holy power have devotees. +Thus, from the hermits' heat-drops sprung, +Their growth is ever fresh and young. +There Savarí is dwelling yet, +Who served each vanished anchoret. +Beneath the shade of holy boughs +That ancient votaress keeps her vows. +Her happy eyes on thee will fall, +O godlike prince, adored by all, +And she, whose life is pure from sin, +A blissful seat in heaven will win. +But cross, O son of Raghu, o'er, +And stand on Pampá's western shore. +A tranquil hermitage that lies +Deep in the woods will meet thine eyes. +No wandering elephants invade +The stillness of that holy shade, +But checked by saint Matanga's power +They spare each consecrated bower. +Through many an age those trees have stood +World-famous as Matanga's wood +Still, Raghu's son, pursue thy way: +Through shades where birds are vocal stray, +Fair as the blessed wood where rove +Immortal Gods, or Nandan's grove. +Near Pampá eastward, full in sight, +Stands Rishyamúka's wood-crowned height. +'Tis hard to climb that towering steep +Where serpents unmolested sleep. +The free and bounteous, formed of old +By Brahmá of superior mould, +Who sink when day is done to rest +Reclining on that mountain crest,-- +What wealth or joy in dreams they view, +Awaking find the vision true. +But if a villain stained with crime +That holy hill presume to climb, +The giants in their fury sweep +From the hill top the wretch asleep. +There loud and long is heard the roar +Of elephants on Pampá's shore, +Who near Matanga's dwelling stray +And in those waters bathe and play. +A while they revel by the flood, +Their temples stained with streams like blood, +Then wander far away dispersed, +Dark as huge clouds before they burst. +But ere they part they drink their fill +Of bright pure water from the rill, +Delightful to the touch, where meet +Scents of all flowers divinely sweet, +Then speeding from the river side +Deep in the sheltering thicket hide. +Then bears and tigers shalt thou view +Whose soft skins show the sapphire's hue, +And silvan deer that wander nigh +Shall harmless from thy presence fly. +High in that mountain's wooded side +Is a fair cavern deep and wide, +Yet hard to enter: piles of rock +The portals of the cavern block.(521) +Fast by the eastern door a pool +Gleams with broad waters fresh and cool, +Where stores of roots and fruit abound, +And thick trees shade the grassy ground. +This mountain cave the virtuous-souled +Sugríva, and his Vánars hold, +And oft the mighty chieftain seeks +The summits of those towering peaks." + + Thus spake Kabandha high in air +His counsel to the royal pair. +Still on his neck that wreath he bore, +And radiance like the sun's he wore. +Their eyes the princely brothers raised +And on that blissful being gazed: +"Behold, we go: no more delay; +Begin," they cried, "thy heavenward way." +"Depart," Kabandha's voice replied, +"Pursue your search, and bliss betide." + + Thus to the happy chiefs he said, +Then on his heavenward journey sped. +Thus once again Kabandha won +A shape that glittered like the sun + Without a spot or stain. +Thus bade he Ráma from the air +To great Sugríva's side repair + His friendly love to gain. + + + + +Canto LXXV. Savarí. + + +Thus counselled by their friendly guide +On through the wood the princes hied, +Pursuing still the eastern road +To Pampá which Kabandha showed, +Where trees that on the mountains grew +With fruit like honey charmed the view. +They rested weary for the night +Upon a mountain's wooded height, +Then onward with the dawn they hied +And stood on Pampá's western side, +Where Savarí's fair home they viewed +Deep in that shady solitude. +The princes reached the holy ground +Where noble trees stood thick around, +And joying in the lovely view +Near to the aged votaress drew. +To meet the sons of Raghu came, +With hands upraised, the pious dame, +And bending low with reverence meet +Welcomed them both and pressed their feet. +Then water, as beseems, she gave, +Their lips to cool, their feet to lave. +To that pure saint who never broke +One law of duty Ráma spoke: + + "I trust no cares invade thy peace, +While holy works and zeal increase; +That thou content with scanty food +All touch of ire hast long subdued; +That all thy vows are well maintained +While peace of mind is surely gained, +That reverence of the saints who taught +Thy faithful heart due fruit has brought." + + The aged votaress pure of taint, +Revered by every perfect saint, +Rose to her feet by Ráma's side +And thus in gentle tones replied: +"My penance meed this day I see +Complete, my lord, in meeting thee. +This day the fruit of birth I gain, +Nor have I served the saints in vain. +I reap rich fruits of toil and vow, +And heaven itself awaits me now, +When I, O chief of men, have done +Honour to thee the godlike one. +I feel, great lord, thy gentle eye +My earthly spirit purify, +And I, brave tamer of thy foes, +Shall through thy grace in bliss repose. +Thy feet by Chitrakúta strayed +When those great saints whom I obeyed, +In dazzling chariots bright of hue, +Hence to their heavenly mansions flew. +As the high saints were borne away +I heard their holy voices say: +"In this pure grove, O devotee, +Prince Ráma soon will visit thee. +When he and Lakshman seek this shade, +Be to thy guests all honour paid. +Him shalt thou see, and pass away +To those blest worlds which ne'er decay." +To me, O mighty chief, the best +Of lofty saints these words addressed. +Laid up within my dwelling lie +Fruits of each sort which woods supply,-- +Food culled for thee in endless store +From every tree on Pampá's shore." + + Thus to her virtuous guest she sued +And he, with heavenly lore endued, +Words such as these in turn addressed +To her with equal knowledge blest: +"Danu himself the power has told +Of thy great masters lofty-souled. +Now if thou will, mine eyes would fain +Assurance of their glories gain." + + She heard the prince his wish declare: +Then rose she, and the royal pair +Of brothers through the wood she led +That round her holy dwelling spread. +"Behold Matanga's wood" she cried, +"A grove made famous far and wide. +Dark as thick clouds and filled with herds +Of wandering deer, and joyous birds. +In this pure spot each reverend sire +With offerings fed the holy fire. +See here the western altar stands +Where daily with their trembling hands +The aged saints, so long obeyed +By me, their gifts of blossoms laid. +The holy power, O Raghu's son, +By their ascetic virtue won, +Still keeps their well-loved altar bright, +Filling the air with beams of light. +And those seven neighbouring lakes behold +Which, when the saints infirm and old, +Worn out by fasts, no longer sought, +Moved hither drawn by power of thought. +Look, Ráma, where the devotees +Hung their bark mantles on the trees, +Fresh from the bath: those garments wet +Through many a day are dripping yet. +See, through those aged hermits' power +The tender spray, this bright-hued flower +With which the saints their worship paid, +Fresh to this hour nor change nor fade. +Here thou hast seen each lawn and dell, +And heard the tale I had to tell: +Permit thy servant, lord, I pray, +To cast this mortal shell away, +For I would dwell, this life resigned, +With those great saints of lofty mind, +Whom I within this holy shade +With reverential care obeyed." + + When Ráma and his brother heard +The pious prayer the dame preferred, +Filled full of transport and amazed +They marvelled as her words they praised. +Then Ráma to the votaress said +Whose holy vows were perfected: +"Go, lady, where thou fain wouldst be, +O thou who well hast honoured me." + + Her locks in hermit fashion tied, +Clad in bark coat and black deer-hide, +When Ráma gave consent, the dame +Resigned her body to the flame. +Then like the fire that burns and glows, +To heaven the sainted lady rose, +In all her heavenly garments dressed, +Immortal wreaths on neck and breast, +Bright with celestial gems she shone +Most beautiful to look upon, +And like the flame of lightning sent +A glory through the firmament. +That holy sphere the dame attained, +By depth of contemplation gained, +Where roam high saints with spirits pure +In bliss that shall for aye endure. + + + + +Canto LXXVI. Pampá. + + +When Savarí had sought the skies +And gained her splendid virtue's prize, +Ráma with Lakshman stayed to brood +O'er the strange scenes their eyes had viewed. +His mind upon those saints was bent, +For power and might preëminent +And he to musing Lakshman spoke +The thoughts that in his bosom woke: +"Mine eyes this wondrous home have viewed +Of those great saints with souls subdued, +Where peaceful tigers dwell and birds, +And deer abound in heedless herds. +Our feet upon the banks have stood +Of those seven lakes within the wood, +Where we have duly dipped, and paid +Libations to each royal shade. +Forgotten now are thoughts of ill +And joyful hopes my bosom fill. +Again my heart is light and gay +And grief and care have passed away. +Come, brother, let us hasten where +Bright Pampá's flood is fresh and fair, +And towering in their beauty near +Mount Rishyamúka's heights appear, +Which, offspring of the Lord of Light, +Still fearing Báli's conquering might, +With four brave chiefs of Vánar race +Sugríva makes his dwelling-place. +I long with eager heart to find +That leader of the Vánar kind, +For on that chief my hopes depend +That this our quest have prosperous end." + + Thus Ráma spoke, in battle tried, +And thus Sumitrá's son replied: +"Come, brother, come, and speed away: +My spirit brooks no more delay." +Thus spake Sumitrá's son, and then +Forth from the grove the king of men +With his dear brother by his side +To Pampá's lucid waters hied. +He gazed upon the woods where grew +Trees rich in flowers of every hue. +From brake and dell on every side +The curlew and the peacock cried, +And flocks of screaming parrots made +Shrill music in the bloomy shade. +His eager eyes, as on he went, +On many a pool and tree were bent. +Inflamed with love he journeyed on +Till a fair flood before him shone. +He stood upon the water's side +Which streams from distant hills supplied: +Matanga's name that water bore: +There bathed he from the shelving shore. +Then, each on earnest thoughts intent, +Still farther on their way they went. +But Ráma's heart once more gave way +Beneath his grief and wild dismay. +Before him lay the noble flood +Adorned with many a lotus bud. +On its fair banks Asoka glowed, +And all bright trees their blossoms showed. +Green banks that silver waves confined +With lovely groves were fringed and lined. +The crystal waters in their flow +Showed level sands that gleamed below. +There glittering fish and tortoise played, +And bending trees gave pleasant shade. +There creepers on the branches hung +With lover-like embraces clung. +There gay Gandharvas loved to meet, +And Kinnars sought the calm retreat. +There wandering Yakshas found delight, +Snake-gods and rovers of the night. +Cool were the pleasant waters, gay +Each tree with creeper, flower, and spray. +There flushed the lotus darkly red, +Here their white glory lilies spread, +Here sweet buds showed their tints of blue: +So carpets gleam with many a hue. +A grove of Mangoes blossomed nigh, +Echoing with the peacock's cry. +When Ráma by his brother's side +The lovely flood of Pampá eyed, +Decked like a beauty, fair to see +With every charm of flower and tree, +His mighty heart with woe was rent +And thus he spoke in wild lament + + "Here, Lakshman, on this beauteous shore, +Stands, dyed with tints of many an ore, +The mountain Rishyamúka bright +With flowery trees that crown each height. +Sprung from the chief who, famed of yore, +The name of Riksharajas bore, +Sugríva, chieftain strong and dread, +Dwells on that mountain's towering head. +Go to him, best of men, and seek +That prince of Vánars on the peak, +I cannot longer brook my pain, +Or, Sítá lost, my life retain." + Thus by the pangs of love distressed, + His thoughts on Sítá bent, + His faithful brother he addressed, + And cried in wild lament. + He reached the lovely ground that lay + On Pampá's wooded side, + And told in anguish and dismay, + The grief he could not hide. + With listless footsteps faint and slow + His way the chief pursued, + Till Pampá with her glorious show + Of flowering woods he viewed. + Through shades where every bird was found + The prince with Lakshman passed, + And Pampá with her groves around + Burst on his eyes at last. + + + + + +BOOK IV. + + + + +Canto I. Ráma's Lament. + + +The princes stood by Pampá's side(522) +Which blooming lilies glorified. +With troubled heart and sense o'erthrown +There Ráma made his piteous moan. +As the fair flood before him lay +The reason of the chief gave way; +And tender thoughts within him woke, +As to Sumitrá's son he spoke: + + "How lovely Pampá's waters show, +Where streams of lucid crystal flow! +What glorious trees o'erhang the flood +Which blooms of opening lotus stud! +Look on the banks of Pampá where +Thick groves extend divinely fair; +And piles of trees, like hills in size, +Lift their proud summits to the skies. +But thought of Bharat's(523) pain and toil, +And my dear spouse the giant's spoil, +Afflict my tortured heart and press +My spirit down with heaviness. +Still fair to me though sunk in woe +Bright Pampá and her forest show. +Where cool fresh waters charm the sight, +And flowers of every hue are bright. +The lotuses in close array +Their passing loveliness display, +And pard and tiger, deer and snake +Haunt every glade and dell and brake. +Those grassy spots display the hue +Of topazes and sapphires' blue, +And, gay with flowers of every dye, +With richly broidered housings vie. +What loads of bloom the high trees crown, +Or weigh the bending branches down! +And creepers tipped with bud and flower +Each spray and loaded limb o'erpower. +Now cool delicious breezes blow, +And kindle love's voluptuous glow, +When balmy sweetness fills the air, +And fruit and flowers and trees are fair. +Those waving woods, that shine with bloom, +Each varied tint in turn assume. +Like labouring clouds they pour their showers +In rain or ever-changing flowers. +Behold, those forest trees, that stand +High upon rock and table-land, +As the cool gales their branches bend, +Their floating blossoms downward send. +See, Lakshman, how the breezes play +With every floweret on the spray. +And sport in merry guise with all +The fallen blooms and those that fall. +See, brother, where the merry breeze +Shakes the gay boughs of flowery trees, +Disturbed amid their toil a throng +Of bees pursue him, loud in song. +The Koïls,(524) mad with sweet delight, +The bending trees to dance invite; +And in its joy the wild wind sings +As from the mountain cave he springs. +On speed the gales in rapid course, +And bend the woods beneath their force, +Till every branch and spray they bind +In many a tangled knot entwined. +What balmy sweets those gales dispense +With cool and sacred influence! +Fatigue and trouble vanish: such +The magic of their gentle touch. +Hark, when the gale the boughs has bent +In woods of honey redolent, +Through all their quivering sprays the trees +Are vocal with the murmuring bees. +The hills with towering summits rise, +And with their beauty charm the eyes, +Gay with the giant trees which bright +With blossom spring from every height: +And as the soft wind gently sways +The clustering blooms that load the sprays, +The very trees break forth and sing +With startled wild bees' murmuring. +Thine eyes to yonder Cassias(525) turn +Whose glorious clusters glow and burn. +Those trees in yellow robes behold, +Like giants decked with burnished gold. +Ah me, Sumitrá's son, the spring +Dear to sweet birds who love and sing, +Wakes in my lonely breast the flame +Of sorrow as I mourn my dame. +Love strikes me through with darts of fire, +And wakes in vain the sweet desire. +Hark, the loud Koïl swells his throat, +And mocks me with his joyful note. +I hear the happy wild-cock call +Beside the shady waterfall. +His cry of joy afflicts my breast +By love's absorbing might possessed. +My darling from our cottage heard +One morn in spring this shrill-toned bird, +And called me in her joy to hear +The happy cry that charmed her ear. +See, birds of every varied voice +Around us in the woods rejoice, +On creeper, shrub, and plant alight, +Or wing from tree to tree their flight. +Each bird his kindly mate has found, +And loud their notes of triumph sound, +Blending in sweetest music like +The distant warblings of the shrike. +See how the river banks are lined +With birds of every hue and kind. +Here in his joy the Koïl sings, +There the glad wild-cock flaps his wings. +The blooms of bright Asokas(526) where +The song of wild bees fills the air, +And the soft whisper of the boughs +Increase my longing for my spouse. +The vernal flush of flower and spray +Will burn my very soul away. +What use, what care have I for life +If I no more may see my wife +Soft speaker with the glorious hair, +And eyes with silken lashes fair? +Now is the time when all day long +The Koïls fill the woods with song. +And gardens bloom at spring's sweet touch +Which my beloved loved so much. +Ah me, Sumitrá's son, the fire +Of sorrow, sprung from soft desire, +Fanned by the charms the spring time shows, +Will burn my heart and end my woes, +Whose sad eyes look on each fair tree, +But my sweet love no more may see. +Ah me, Ah me, from hour to hour +Love in my soul will wax in power, +And spring, upon whose charms I gaze, +Whose breath the heat of toil allays, +With thoughts of her for whom I strain +My hopeless eyes, increase my pain. +As fire in summer rages through +The forests thick with dry bamboo, +So will my fawn eyed love consume +My soul o'erwhelmed with thoughts of gloom. +Behold, beneath each spreading tree +The peacocks dance(527) in frantic glee, +And, stirred by all the gales that blow, +Their tails with jewelled windows glow, +Each bird, in happy love elate, +Rejoices with his darling mate. +But sights like these of joy and peace +My pangs of hopeless love increase. +See on the mountain slope above +The peahen languishing with love. +Behold her now in amorous dance +Close to her consort's side advance. +He with a laugh of joy and pride +Displays his glittering pinions wide; +And follows through the tangled dell +The partner whom he loves so well. +Ah happy bird! no giant's hate +Has robbed him of his tender mate; +And still beside his loved one he +Dances beneath the shade in glee. +Ah, in this month when flowers are fair +My widowed woe is hard to bear. +See, gentle love a home may find +In creatures of inferior kind. +See how the peahen turns to meet +Her consort now with love-drawn feet. +So, Lakshman, if my large-eyed dear, +The child of Janak still were here, +She, by love's thrilling influence led, +Upon my breast would lay her head. +These blooms I gathered from the bough +Without my love are useless now. +A thousand blossoms fair to see +With passing glory clothe each tree +That hangs its cluster-burthened head +Now that the dewy months(528) are fled, +But, followed by the bees that ply +Their fragrant task, they fall and die. +A thousand birds in wild delight +Their rapture-breathing notes unite; +Bird calls to bird in joyous strain, +And turns my love to frenzied pain. +O, if beneath those alien skies, +There be a spring where Sítá lies, +I know my prisoned love must be +Touched with like grief, and mourn with me. +But ah, methinks that dreary clime +Knows not the touch of spring's sweet time. +How could my black eyed love sustain, +Without her lord, so dire a pain? +Or if the sweet spring come to her +In distant lands a prisoner, +How may his advent and her met +On every side with taunt and threat? +Ah, if the springtide's languor came +With soft enchantment o'er my dame, +My darling of the lotus eye, +My gently speaking love, would die; +For well my spirit knows that she +Can never live bereft of me +With love that never wavered yet +My Sítá's heart, on me is set, +Who, with a soul that ne'er can stray, +With equal love her love repay. +In vain, in vain the soft wind brings +Sweet blossoms on his balmy wings; +Delicious from his native snow, +To me like fire he seems to glow. +O, how I loved a breeze like this +When darling Sítá shared the bliss! +But now in vain for me it blows +To fan the fury of my woes. +That dark-winged bird that sought the skies +Foretelling grief with warning cries, +Sits on the tree where buds are gay, +And pours glad music from the spray. +That rover of the fields of air +Will aid my love with friendly care, +And me with gracious pity guide +To my large-eyed Videhan's side.(529) +Hark, Lakshman, how the woods around +With love-inspiring chants resound, +Where birds in every bloom-crowned tree +Pour forth their amorous minstrelsy. +As though an eager gallant wooed +A gentle maid by love subdued, +Enamoured of her flowers the bee +Darts at the wind-rocked Tila tree.(530) +Asoka, brightest tree that grows, +That lends a pang to lovers' woes, +Hangs out his gorgeous bloom in scorn +And mocks me as I weep forlorn. +O Lakshman, turn thine eye and see +Each blossom-laden Mango tree, +Like a young lover gaily dressed +Whom fond desire forbids to rest. +Look, son of Queen Sumitrá through +The forest glades of varied hue, +Where blooms are bright and grass is green +The Kinnars(531) with their loves are seen. +See, brother, see where sweet and bright +Those crimson lilies charm the sight, +And o'er the flood a radiance throw +Fair as the morning's roseate glow. +See, Pampá, most divinely sweet, +The swan's and mallard's loved retreat, +Shows her glad waters bright and clear, +Where lotuses their heads uprear +From the pure wave, and charm the view +With mingled tints of red and blue. +Each like the morning's early beams +Reflected in the crystal gleams; +And bees on their sweet toil intent +Weigh down each tender filament. +There with gay lawns the wood recedes; +There wildfowl sport amid the reeds, +There roedeer stand upon the brink, +And elephants descend to drink. +The rippling waves which winds make fleet +Against the bending lilies beat, +And opening bud and flower and stem +Gleam with the drops that hang on them. +Life has no pleasure left for me +While my dear queen I may not see, +Who loved so well those blooms that vie +With the full splendour of her eye. +O tyrant Love, who will not let +My bosom for one hour forget +The lost one whom I yearn to meet, +Whose words were ever kind and sweet. +Ah, haply might my heart endure +This hopeless love that knows not cure, +If spring with all his trees in flower +Assailed me not with ruthless power. +Each lovely scene, each sound and sight +Wherein, with her, I found delight, +Has lost the charm so sweet of yore, +And glads my widowed heart no more. +On lotus buds I seem to gaze, +Or blooms that deck Palása(532) sprays;(533) + +But to my tortured memory rise +The glories of my darling's eyes. +Cool breezes through the forest stray +Gathering odours on their way, +Enriched with all the rifled scent +Of lotus flower and filament. +Their touch upon my temples falls +And Sítá's fragrant breath recalls. +Now look, dear brother, on the right +Of Pampá towers a mountain height +Where fairest Cassia trees unfold +The treasures of their burnished gold. +Proud mountain king! his woody side +With myriad ores is decked and dyed, +And as the wind-swept blossoms fall +Their fragrant dust is stained with all. +To yon high lands thy glances turn: +With pendent fire they flash and burn, +Where in their vernal glory blaze +Palása flowers on leafless sprays. +O Lakshman, look! on Pampá's side +What fair trees rise in blooming pride! +What climbing plants above them show +Or hang their flowery garlands low! +See how the amorous creeper rings +The wind-rocked trees to which she clings, +As though a dame by love impelled +With clasping arms her lover held. +Drunk with the varied scents that fill +The balmy air, from hill to hill, +From grove to grove, from tree to tree, +The joyous wind is wandering free. +These gay trees wave their branches bent +By blooms, of honey redolent. +There, slowly opening to the day, +Buds with dark lustre deck the spray. +The wild bee rests a moment where +Each tempting flower is sweet and fair, +Then, coloured by the pollen dyes, +Deep in some odorous blossom lies. +Soon from his couch away he springs: +To other trees his course he wings, +And tastes the honeyed blooms that grow +Where Pampá's lucid waters flow. +See, Lakshman, see, how thickly spread +With blossoms from the trees o'erhead, +That grass the weary traveller woos +With couches of a thousand hues, +And beds on every height arrayed +With red and yellow tints are laid, +No longer winter chills the earth: +A thousand flowerets spring to birth, +And trees in rivalry assume +Their vernal garb of bud and bloom. +How fair they look, how bright and gay +With tasselled flowers on every spray! +While each to each proud challenge flings +Borne in the song the wild bee sings. +That mallard by the river edge +Has bathed amid the reeds and sedge: +Now with his mate he fondly plays +And fires my bosom as I gaze. + + Mandákiní(534) is far renowned: +No lovelier flood on earth is found; +But all her fairest charms combined +In this sweet stream enchant the mind. +O, if my love were here to look +With me upon this lovely brook, +Never for Ayodhyá would I pine, +Or wish that Indra's lot were mine. +If by my darling's side I strayed +O'er the soft turf which decks the glade, +Each craving thought were sweetly stilled, +Each longing of my soul fulfilled. +But, now my love is far away, +Those trees which make the woods so gay, +In all their varied beauty dressed, +Wake thoughts of anguish in my breast. + + That lotus-covered stream behold +Whose waters run so fresh and cold, +Sweet rill, the wildfowl's loved resort, +Where curlew, swan, and diver sport; +Where with his consort plays the drake, +And tall deer love their thirst to slake, +While from each woody bank is heard +The wild note of each happy bird. +The music of that joyous quire +Fills all my soul with soft desire; +And, as I hear, my sad thoughts fly +To Sítá of the lotus eye, +Whom, lovely with her moonbright cheek, +In vain mine eager glances seek. +Now turn, those chequered lawns survey +Where hart and hind together stray. +Ah, as they wander at their will +My troubled breast with grief they fill, +While torn by hopeless love I sigh +For Sítá of the fawn-like eye. +If in those glades where, touched by spring, +Gay birds their amorous ditties sing, +Mine own beloved I might see, +Then, brother, it were well with me: +If by my side she wandered still, +And this cool breeze that stirs the rill +Touched with its gentle breath the brows +Of mine own dear Videhan spouse. +For, Lakshman, O how blest are those +On whom the breath of Pampá blows, +Dispelling all their care and gloom +With sweets from where the lilies bloom! +How can my gentle love remain +Alive amid the woe and pain, +Where prisoned far away she lies,-- +My darling of the lotus eyes? +How shall I dare her sire to greet +Whose lips have never known deceit? +How stand before the childless king +And meet his eager questioning? +When banished by my sire's decree, +In low estate, she followed me. +So pure, so true to every vow, +Where is my gentle darling now? +How can I bear my widowed lot, +And linger on where she is not, +Who followed when from home I fled +Distracted, disinherited? +My spirit sinks in hopeless pain +When my fond glances yearn in vain +For that dear face with whose bright eye +The worshipped lotus scarce can vie. +Ah when, my brother, shall I hear +That voice that rang so soft and clear, +When, sweetly smiling as she spoke, +From her dear lips gay laughter broke? +When worn with toil and love I strayed +With Sítá through the forest shade, +No trace of grief was seen in her, +My kind and thoughtful comforter. +How shall my faltering tongue relate +To Queen Kausalyá Sítá's fate? +How answer when in wild despair +She questions, Where is Sítá, where? +Haste, brother, haste: to Bharat hie, +On whose fond love I still rely. +My life can be no longer borne, +Since Sítá from my side is torn." + + Thus like a helpless mourner, bent +By sorrow, Ráma made lament; +And with wise counsel Lakshman tried +To soothe his care, and thus replied: +"O best of men, thy grief oppose, +Nor sink beneath thy weight of woes. +Not thus despond the great and pure +And brave like thee, but still endure. +Reflect what anguish wrings the heart +When loving souls are forced to part; +And, mindful of the coming pain, +Thy love within thy breast restrain. +For earth, though cooled by wandering streams, +Lies scorched beneath the midday beams. +Rávan his steps to hell may bend, +Or lower yet in flight descend; +But be thou sure, O Raghu's son, +Avenging death he shall not shun. +Rise, Ráma, rise: the search begin, +And track the giant foul with sin. +Then shall the fiend, though far he fly, +Resign his prey or surely die. +Yea, though the trembling monster hide +With Sítá close to Diti's(535) side, +E'en there, unless he yield the prize, +Slain by this wrathful hand he dies. +Thy heart with strength and courage stay, +And cast this weakling mood away. +Our fainting hopes in vain revive +Unless with firm resolve we strive. +The zeal that fires the toiler's breast +Mid earthly powers is first and best. +Zeal every check and bar defies, +And wins at length the loftiest prize, +In woe and danger, toil and care, +Zeal never yields to weak despair. +With zealous heart thy task begin, +And thou once more thy spouse shalt win. +Cast fruitless sorrow from thy soul, +Nor let this love thy heart control. +Forget not all thy sacred lore, +But be thy noble self once more." + + He heard, his bosom rent by grief, +The counsel of his brother chief; +Crushed in his heart the maddening pain, +And rose resolved and strong again. +Then forth upon his journey went +The hero on his task intent, +Nor thought of Pampá's lovely brook, +Or trees which murmuring breezes shook, +Though on dark woods his glances fell, +On waterfall and cave and dell; +And still by many a care distressed +The son of Raghu onward pressed. +As some wild elephant elate + Moves through the woods in pride, +So Lakshman with majestic gait + Strode by his brother's side. +He, for his lofty spirit famed, + Admonished and consoled; +Showed Raghu's son what duty claimed, + And bade his heart be bold. +Then as the brothers strode apace + To Rishyamúka's height, +The sovereign of the Vánar race(536) + Was troubled at the sight. +As on the lofty hill he strayed + He saw the chiefs draw near: +A while their glorious forms surveyed, + And mused in restless fear. +His slow majestic step he stayed + And gazed upon the pair. +And all his spirit sank dismayed + By fear too great to bear. +When in their glorious might the best + Of royal chiefs came nigh, +The Vánars in their wild unrest + Prepared to turn and fly. +They sought the hermit's sacred home(537) + For peace and bliss ordained, +And there, where Vánars loved to roam, + A sure asylum gained. + + + + +Canto II. Sugríva's Alarm. + + + Sugríva moved by wondering awe +The high-souled sons of Raghu saw, +In all their glorious arms arrayed; +And grief upon his spirit weighed. +To every quarter of the sky +He turned in fear his anxious eye, +And roving still from spot to spot +With troubled steps he rested not. +He durst not, as he viewed the pair, +Resolve to stand and meet them there; +And drooping cheer and quailing breast +The terror of the chief confessed. +While the great fear his bosom shook, +Brief counsel with his lords he took; +Each gain and danger closely scanned, +What hope in flight, what power to stand, +While doubt and fear his bosom rent, +On Raghu's sons his eyes he bent, +And with a spirit ill at ease +Addressed his lords in words like these: + + "Those chiefs with wandering steps invade +The shelter of our pathless shade, +And hither come in fair disguise +Of hermit garb as Báli's spies." + + Each lord beheld with troubled heart +Those masters of the bowman's art, +And left the mountain side to seek +Sure refuge on a loftier peak. +The Vánar chief in rapid flight +Found shelter on a towering height, +And all the band with one accord +Were closely gathered round their lord. +Their course the same, with desperate leap +Each made his way from steep to steep, +And speeding on in wild career +Filled every height with sudden fear. +Each heart was struck with mortal dread, +As on their course the Vánars sped, +While trees that crowned the steep were bent +And crushed beneath them as they went. +As in their eager flight they pressed +For safety to each mountain crest, +The wild confusion struck with fear +Tiger and cat and wandering deer. +The lords who watched Sugríva's will +Were gathered on the royal hill, +And all with reverent hands upraised +Upon their king and leader gazed. +Sugríva feared some evil planned, +Some train prepared by Báli's hand. +But, skilled in words that charm and teach, +Thus Hanumán(538) began his speech: + + "Dismiss, dismiss thine idle fear, +Nor dread the power of Báli here. +For this is Malaya's glorious hill(539) +Where Báli's might can work no ill. +I look around but nowhere see +The hated foe who made thee flee, +Fell Báli, fierce in form and face: +Then fear not, lord of Vánar race. +Alas, in thee I clearly find +The weakness of the Vánar kind, +That loves from thought to thought to range, +Fix no belief and welcome change. +Mark well each hint and sign and scan, +Discreet and wise, thine every plan. +How may a king, with sense denied, +The subjects of his sceptre guide?" + + Hanúmán,(540) wise in hour of need, +Urged on the chief his prudent rede. +His listening ear Sugríva bent, +And spake in words more excellent: + + "Where is the dauntless heart that free +From terror's chilling touch can see +Two stranger warriors, strong as those, +Equipped with swords and shafts and bows, +With mighty arms and large full eyes, +Like glorious children of the skies? +Báli my foe, I ween, has sent +These chiefs to aid his dark intent. +Hence doubt and fear disturb me still, +For thousands serve a monarch's will, +In borrowed garb they come, and those +Who walk disguised are counted foes. +With secret thoughts they watch their time, +And wound fond hearts that fear no crime. +My foe in state affairs is wise, +And prudent kings have searching eyes. +By other hands they strike the foe: +By meaner tools the truth they know. +Now to those stranger warriors turn, +And, less than king, their purpose learn. +Mark well the trick and look of each; +Observe his form and note his speech. +With care their mood and temper sound, +And, if their minds be friendly found, +With courteous looks and words begin +Their confidence and love to win. +Then as my friend and envoy speak, +And question what the strangers seek. +Ask why equipped with shaft and bow +Through this wild maze of wood they go. +If they, O chief, at first appear +Pure of all guile, in heart sincere, +Detect in speech and look the sin +And treachery that lurk within." + + He spoke: the Wind-God's son obeyed. +With ready zeal he sought the shade, +And reached with hasty steps the wood +Where Raghu's son and Lakshman stood.(541) + + + + +Canto III. Hanumán's Speech. + + +The envoy in his faithful breast +Pondered Sugríva's high behest. +From Rishyamúka's peak he hied +And placed him by the princes' side. +The Wind-God's son with cautious art +Had laid his Vánar form apart, +And wore, to cheat the strangers eyes, +A wandering mendicant's disguise.(542) +Before the heroes' feet he bent +And did obeisance reverent, +And spoke, the glorious pair to praise, +His words of truth in courteous phrase, +High honour duly paid, the best +Of all the Vánar kind addressed, +With free accord and gentle grace, +Those glories of their warrior race: + + "O hermits, blest in vows, who shine +Like royal saints or Gods divine, +O best of young ascetics, say +How to this spot you found your way, +Scaring the troops of wandering deer +And silvan things that harbour here +Searching amid the trees that grow +Where Pampá's gentle waters flow. +And lending from your brows a gleam +Of glory to the lovely stream. +Who are you, say, so brave and fair, +Clad in the bark which hermits wear? +I see you heave the frequent sigh, +I see the deer before you fly. +While you, for strength and valour dread, +The earth, like lordly lions, tread, +Each bearing in his hand a bow, +Like Indra's own, to slay the foe. +With the grand paces of a bull, +So bright and young and beautiful. +The mighty arms you raise appear +Like trunks which elephants uprear, +And as you move this mountain-king(543) +Is glorious with the light you bring. +How have you reached, like Gods in face, +Best lords of earth, this lonely place, +With tresses coiled in hermit guise,(544) +And splendours of those lotus eyes? +As Gods who leave their heavenly sphere, +Alike your beauteous forms appear. +The Lords of Day and Night(545) might thus +Stray from the skies to visit us. +Heroic youth, so broad of chest, +Fair with the beauty of the Blest, +With lion shoulders, tall and strong, +Like bulls who lead the lowing throng, +Your arms, unmatched for grace and length, +With massive clubs may vie in strength. +Why do no gauds those limbs adorn +Where priceless gems were meetly worn? +Each noble youth is fit, I deem, +To guard this earth, as lord supreme, +With all her woods and seas, to reign +From Meru's peak to Vindhya's chain. +Your smooth bows decked with dyes and gold +Are glorious in their masters' hold, +And with the arms of Indra(546) vie +Which diamond splendours beautify. +Your quivers glow with golden sheen, +Well stored with arrows fleet and keen, +Each gleaming like a fiery snake +That joys the foeman's life to take. +As serpents cast their sloughs away +And all their new born sheen display, +So flash your mighty swords inlaid +With burning gold on hilt and blade. +Why are you silent, heroes? Why +My questions hear nor deign reply? +Sugríva, lord of virtuous mind, +The foremost of the Vánar kind, +An exile from his royal state, +Roams through the land disconsolate. +I, Hanumán, of Vánar race, +Sent by the king have sought this place, +For he, the pious, just, and true, +In friendly league would join with you. +Know, godlike youths, that I am one +Of his chief lords, the Wind-God's son. +With course unchecked I roam at will, +And now from Rishyamúka's hill, +To please his heart, his hope to speed, +I came disguised in beggar's weed." + + Thus Hanúmán, well trained in lore +Of language, spoke, and said no more. +The son of Raghu joyed to hear +The envoy's speech, and bright of cheer +He turned to Lakshman by his side, +And thus in words of transport cried: + + "The counselor we now behold +Of King Sugríva righteous-souled. +His face I long have yearned to see, +And now his envoy comes to me +With sweetest words in courteous phrase +Answer this mighty lord who slays +His foemen, by Sugríva sent, +This Vánar chief most eloquent. +For one whose words so sweetly flow +The whole Rig-veda(547) needs must know, +And in his well-trained memory store +The Yajush and the Sáman's lore. +He must have bent his faithful ear +All grammar's varied rules to hear. +For his long speech how well he spoke! +In all its length no rule he broke. +In eye, on brow, in all his face +The keenest look no guile could trace. +No change of hue, no pose of limb +Gave sign that aught was false in him. +Concise, unfaltering, sweet and clear, +Without a word to pain the ear. +From chest to throat, nor high nor low, +His accents came in measured flow. +How well he spoke with perfect art +That wondrous speech that charmed the heart, +With finest skill and order graced +In words that knew nor pause nor haste! +That speech, with consonants that spring +From the three seats of uttering,(548) +Would charm the spirit of a foe +Whose sword is raised for mortal blow. +How may a ruler's plan succeed +Who lacks such envoy good at need? +How fail, if one whose mind is stored +With gifts so rare assist his lord? +What plans can fail, with wisest speech +Of envoy's lips to further each?" + + Thus Ráma spoke; and Lakshman taught +In all the art that utters thought, +To King Sugríva's learned spy +Thus made his eloquent reply: +"Full well we know the gifts that grace +Sugríva, lord of Vánar race, +And hither turn our wandering feet +That we that high-souled king may meet. +So now our pleasant task shall be +To do the words he speaks by thee." + + His prudent speech the Vánar heard, +And all his heart with joy was stirred. +And hope that league with them would bring +Redress and triumph to his king. + + + + +Canto IV. Lakshman's Reply. + + +Cheered by the words that Ráma spoke, +Joy in the Vánar's breast awoke, +And, as his friendly mood he knew, +His thoughts to King Sugríva flew: +"Again," he mused, "my high-souled lord +Shall rule, to kingly state restored; +Since one so mighty comes to save, +And freely gives the help we crave." + + Then joyous Hanumán, the best +Of all the Vánar kind, addressed +These words to Ráma, trained of yore +In all the arts of speakers' lore:(549) +"Why do your feet this forest tread +By silvan life inhabited, +This awful maze of tree and thorn +Which Pampá's flowering groves adorn?" + + He spoke: obedient to the eye +Of Ráma, Lakshman made reply, +The name and fortune to unfold +Of Raghu's son the lofty-souled: +"True to the law, of fame unstained, +The glorious Dasaratha reigned, +And, steadfast in his duty, long +Kept the four castes(550) from scathe and wrong. +Through his wide realm his will was done, +And, loved by all, he hated none. +Just to each creature great and small, +Like the Good Sire he cared for all. +The Ágnishtom,(551) as priests advised, +And various rites he solemnized, +Where ample largess ever paid +The Bráhmans for their holy aid. +Here Ráma stands, his heir by birth, +Whose name is glorious in the earth: +Sure refuge he of all oppressed, +Most faithful to his sire's behest. +He, Dasaratha's eldest born +Whom gifts above the rest adorn, +Lord of each high imperial sign,(552) +The glory of his kingly line, +Reft of his right, expelled from home, +Came forth with me the woods to roam. +And Sítá too, his faithful dame, +Forth with her virtuous husband came, +Like the sweet light when day is done +Still cleaving to her lord the sun. +And me his sweet perfections drew +To follow as his servant true. +Named Lakshman, brother of my lord +Of grateful heart with knowledge stored +Most meet is he all bliss to share, +Who makes the good of all his care. +While, power and lordship cast away, +In the wild wood he chose to stay, +A giant came,--his name unknown,-- +And stole the princess left alone. +Then Diti's son(553) who, cursed of yore, +The semblance of a Rákshas wore, +To King Sugríva bade us turn +The robber's name and home to learn. +For he, the Vánar chief, would know +The dwelling of our secret foe. +Such words of hope spake Diti's son, +And sought the heaven his deeds had won. +Thou hast my tale. From first to last +Thine ears have heard whate'er has past. +Ráma the mighty lord and I +For refuge to Sugríva fly. +The prince whose arm bright glory gained, +O'er the whole earth as monarch reigned, +And richest gifts to others gave, +Is come Sugríva's help to crave; +Son of a king the surest friend +Of virtue, him who loved to lend +His succour to the suffering weak, +Is come Sugríva's aid to seek. +Yes, Raghu's son whose matchless hand +Protected all this sea-girt land, +The virtuous prince, my holy guide, +For refuge seeks Sugríva's side. +His favour sent on great and small +Should ever save and prosper all. +He now to win Sugríva's grace +Has sought his woodland dwelling-place. +Son of a king of glorious fame;-- +Who knows not Dasaratha's name?-- +From whom all princes of the earth +Received each honour due to worth;-- +Heir of that best of earthly kings, +Ráma the prince whose glory rings +Through realms below and earth and skies, +For refuge to Sugríva flies. +Nor should the Vánar king refuse +The boon for which the suppliant sues, +But with his forest legions speed +To save him in his utmost need." + + Sumitrá's son, his eyes bedewed +With piteous tears, thus sighed and sued. +Then, trained in all the arts that guide +The speaker, Hanumán replied: + + "Yea, lords like you of wisest thought, +Whom happy fate has hither brought, +Who vanquish ire and rule each sense, +Must of our lord have audience. +Reft of his kingdom, sad, forlorn, +Once Báli's hate now Báli's scorn, +Defeated, severed from his spouse, +Wandering under forest boughs, +Child of the Sun, our lord and king +Sugríva will his succours bring, +And all our Vánar hosts combined +Will trace the dame you long to find." + + With gentle tone and winning grace +Thus spake the chief of Vánar race, +And then to Raghu's son he cried: +"Come, haste we to Sugríva's side." + + He spoke, and for his words so sweet +Good Lakshman paid all honour meet; +Then turned and cried to Raghu's son: +"Now deem thy task already done, +Because this chief of Vánar kind, +Son of the God who rules the wind, +Declares Sugríva's self would be +Assisted in his need by thee. +Bright gleams of joy his cheek o'erspread +As each glad word of hope he said; +And ne'er will one so valiant deign +To cheer our hearts with hope in vain." + + He spoke, and Hanumán the wise +Cast off his mendicant disguise, +And took again his Vánar form, +Son of the God of wind and storm. +High on his ample back in haste +Raghu's heroic sons he placed, +And turned with rapid steps to find +The sovereign of the Vánar kind. + + + + +Canto V. The League. + + +From Rishyamúka's rugged side +To Malaya's hill the Vánar hied, +And to his royal chieftain there +Announced the coming of the pair: +"See, here with Lakshman Ráma stands +Illustrious in a hundred lands. +Whose valiant heart will never quail +Although a thousand foes assail; +King Dasaratha's son, the grace +And glory of Ikshváku's race. +Obedient to his father's will +He cleaves to sacred duty still. +With rites of royal pomp and pride +His sire the Fire-God gratified; +Ten hundred thousand kine he freed, +And priests enriched with ample meed; +And the broad land protected, famed +For truthful lips and passions tamed. +Through woman's guile his son has made +His dwelling in the forest shade, +Where, as he lived with every sense +Subdued in hermit abstinence, +Fierce Rávan stole his wife, and he +Is come a suppliant, lord, to thee. +Now let all honour due be paid +To these great chiefs who seek thine aid." + + Thus spake the Vánar prince, and, stirred +With friendly thoughts, Sugríva heard. +The light of joy his face o'erspread, +And thus to Raghu's son he said: +"O Prince, in rules of duty trained, +Caring for all with love unfeigned, +Hanúmán's tongue has truly shown +The virtues that are thine alone. +My chiefest glory, gain, and bliss, +O stranger Prince, I reckon this, +That Raghu's son will condescend +To seek the Vánar for his friend. +If thou my true ally wouldst be +Accept the pledge I offer thee, +This hand in sign of friendship take, +And bind the bond we ne'er will break." + + He spoke, and joy thrilled Ráma's breast; +Sugríva's hand he seized and pressed +And, transport beaming from his eye, +Held to his heart his new ally. +In wanderer's weed disguised no more, +His proper form Hanúmán wore. +Then, wood with wood engendering,(554) came +Neath his deft hands the kindled flame. +Between the chiefs that fire he placed +With wreaths of flowers and worship graced. +And round its blazing glory went +The friends with slow steps reverent. + + Thus each to other pledged and bound +In solemn league new transport found, +And bent upon his dear ally +The gaze he ne'er could satisfy. +"Friend of my soul art thou: we share +Each other's joy, each other's care;" +Thus in the bliss that thrilled his breast +Sugríva Raghu's son addressed. +From a high Sál a branch he tore +Which many a leaf and blossom bore, +And the fine twigs beneath them laid +A seat for him and Ráma made. +Then Hanumán with joyous mind, +Son of the God who rules the wind, +To Lakshman gave, his seat to be, +The gay branch of a Sandal tree. +Then King Sugríva with his eyes +Still trembling with the sweet surprise +Of the great joy he could not hide, +To Raghu's noblest scion cried: +"O Ráma, racked with woe and fear, +Spurned by my foes, I wander here. +Reft of my spouse, forlorn I dwell +Here in my forest citadel. +Or wild with terror and distress +Roam through the distant wilderness. +Vext by my brother Báli long +My soul has borne the scathe and wrong. +Do thou, whose virtues all revere, +Release me from my woe and fear. +From dire distress thy friend to free +Is a high task and worthy thee." + + He spoke, and Raghu's son who knew +All sacred duties men should do. +The friend of justice, void of guile, +Thus answered with a gentle smile: +"Great Vánar, friends who seek my aid +Still find their trust with fruit repaid. +Báli, thy foe, who stole away +Thy wife this vengeful hand shall slay. +These shafts which sunlike flash and burn, +Winged with the feathers of the hern, +Each swift of flight and sure and dread, +With even knot and pointed head, +Fierce as the crashing fire-bolt sent +By him who rules the firmament,(555) +Shall reach thy wicked foe and like +Infuriate serpents hiss and strike. +Thou, Vánar King, this day shalt see +The foe who long has injured thee +Lie, like a shattered mountain, low, +Slain by the tempest of my bow." + + Thus Ráma spake: Sugríva heard, +And mighty joy his bosom stirred: +As thus his champion he addressed: +"Now by thy favour, first and best +Of heroes, shall thy friend obtain +His realm and darling wife again + Recovered from the foe. +Check thou mine elder brother's might; +That ne'er again his deadly spite +May rob me of mine ancient right, + Or vex my soul with woe." +The league was struck, a league to bring +To Sítá fiends, and Vánar king(556) + Apportioned bliss and bale. +Through her left eye quick throbbings shot,(557) +Glad signs the lady doubted not, + That told their hopeful tale. +The bright left eye of Báli felt +An inauspicious throb that dealt + A deadly blow that day. +The fiery left eyes of the crew +Of demons felt the throb, and knew + The herald of dismay. + + + + +Canto VI. The Tokens. + + +With joy that sprang from hope restored +To Ráma spake the Vánar lord: +"I know, by wise Hanúmán taught, +Why thou the lonely wood hast sought. +Where with thy brother Lakshman thou +Hast sojourned, bound by hermit vow; +Have heard how Sítá, Janak's child, +Was stolen in the pathless wild, +How by a roving Rákshas she +Weeping was reft from him and thee; +How, bent on death, the giant slew +The vulture king, her guardian true, +And gave thy widowed breast to know +A solitary mourner's woe. +But soon, dear Prince, thy heart shall be +From every trace of sorrow free; +For I thy darling will restore, +Lost like the prize of holy lore.(558) +Yea, though in heaven the lady dwell, +Or prisoned in the depths of hell, +My friendly care her way shall track +And bring thy ransomed darling back. +Let this my promise soothe thy care, +Nor doubt the words I truly swear. +Saints, fiends, and dwellers of the skies +Shall find thy wife a bitter prize, +Like the rash child who rues too late +The treacherous lure of poisoned cate. +No longer, Prince, thy loss deplore: +Thy darling wife will I restore. +'Twas she I saw: my heart infers +That shrinking form was doubtless hers, +Which gaint Rávan, fierce and dread, +Bore swiftly through the clouds o'erhead +Still writhing in his strict embrace +Like helpless queen of serpent race,(559) +And from her lips that sad voice came +Shrieking thine own and Lakshman's name. +High on a hill she saw me stand +With comrades twain on either hand. +Her outer robe to earth she threw, +And with it sent her anklets too. +We saw the glittering tokens fall, +We found them there and kept them all. +These will I bring: perchance thine eyes +The treasured spoils will recognize." + + He ceased: then Raghu's son replied +To the glad tale, and eager cried: +"Bring them with all thy speed: delay +No more, dear friend, but haste away." + + Thus Ráma spoke. Sugríva hied +Within the mountain's caverned side, +Impelled by love that stirred each thought +The precious tokens quickly brought, +And said to Raghu's son: Behold +This garment and these rings of gold. +In Ráma's hand with friendly haste +The jewels and the robe he placed. +Then, like the moon by mist assailed, +The tear-dimmed eyes of Ráma failed; +That burst of woe unmanned his frame, +Woe sprung from passion for his dame, +And with his manly strength o'erthrown, +He fell and cried, Ah me! mine own! +Again, again close to his breast +The ornaments and robe he pressed, +While the quick pants that shook his frame +As from a furious serpent came. +On his dear brother standing nigh +He turned at length his piteous eye; +And, while his tears increasing ran, +In bitter wail he thus began: +"Look, brother, and behold once more +The ornaments and robe she wore, +Dropped while the giant bore away +In cruel arras his struggling prey, +Dropped in some quiet spot, I ween, +Where the young grass was soft and green; +For still untouched by spot or stain +Their former beauty all retain." + + He spoke with many a tear and sigh, +And thus his brother made reply: +"The bracelets thou hast fondly shown, +And earrings, are to me unknown, +But by long service taught I greet +The anklets of her honoured feet."(560) + + Then to Sugríva Ráma, best +Of Raghu's sons, these words addressed: + + "Say to what quarter of the sky +The cruel fiend was seen to fly, +Bearing afar my captured wife, +My darling dearer than my life. +Speak, Vánar King, that I may know +Where dwells the cause of all my woe; +The fiend for whose transgression all +The giants by this hand shall fall. +He who the Maithil lady stole +And kindled fury in my soul, +Has sought his fate in senseless pride +And opened Death's dark portal wide. +Then tell me, Vánar lord, I pray, + The dwelling of my foe, +And he, beneath this hand, to-day + To Yáma's halls shall go." + + + + +Canto VII. Ráma Consoled. + + +With longing love and woe oppressed +The Vánar chief he thus addressed: +And he, while sobs his utterance broke, +Raised up his reverent hands and spoke: + + "O Raghu's son, I cannot tell +Where now that cruel fiend may dwell, +Declare his power and might, or trace +The author of his cursed race. +Still trust the promise that I make +And let thy breast no longer ache. +So will I toil, nor toil in vain, +That thou thy consort mayst regain. +So will I work with might and skill +That joy anew thy heart shall fill: +The valour of my soul display, +And Rávan and his legions slay. +Awake, awake! unmanned no more +Recall the strength was thine of yore. +Beseems not men like thee to wear +A weak heart yielding to despair. +Like troubles, too, mine eyes have seen, +Lamenting for a long-lost queen; +But, by despair unconquered yet, +My strength of mind I ne'er forget. +Far more shouldst thou of lofty soul +Thy passion and thy tears control, +When I, of Vánar's humbler strain, +Weep not for her in ceaseless pain. +Be firm, be patient, nor forget +The bounds the brave of heart have set +In loss, in woe, in strife, in fear, +When the dark hour of death is near. +Up! with thine own brave heart advise: +Not thus despond the firm and wise. +But he who gives his childish heart +To choose the coward's weakling part, +Sinks, like a foundered vessel, deep +In waves of woe that o'er him sweep. +See, suppliant hand to hand I lay, +And, moved by faithful love, I pray. +Give way no more to grief and gloom, +But all thy native strength resume. +No joy on earth, I ween, have they +Who yield their souls to sorrow's sway. +Their glory fades in slow decline: +'Tis not for thee to grieve and pine. +I do but hint with friendly speech +The wiser part I dare not teach. +This better path, dear friend, pursue, +And let not grief thy soul subdue." + + Sugríva thus with gentle art +And sweet words soothed the mourner's heart, +Who brushed off with his mantle's hem +Tears from the eyes bedewed with them. +Sugríva's words were not in vain, +And Ráma was himself again, +Around the king his arms he threw +And thus began his speech anew: + + "Whate'er a friend most wise and true, +Who counsels for the best, should do, +Whate'er his gentle part should be, +Has been performed, dear friend, by thee. +Taught by thy counsel, O my lord, +I feel my native strength restored. +A friend like thee is hard to gain, +Most rare in time of grief and pain. +Now strain thine utmost power to trace +The Maithil lady's dwelling place, +And aid me in my search to find +Fierce Rávan of the impious mind. +Trust thou, in turn, thy loyal friend, +And say what aid this arm can lend +To speed thy hopes, as fostering rain +Quickens in earth the scattered grain. +Deem not those words, that seemed to spring +From pride, are false, O Vánar King. +None from these lips has ever heard, +None e'er shall hear, one lying word. +Again I promise and declare, +Yea, by my truth, dear friend, I swear." + + Then glad was King Sugríva's breast, +And all his lords their joy confessed, +Stirred by sure hope of Ráma's aid, +And promise which the prince had made. + + + + +Canto VIII. Ráma's Promise. + + +Doubt from Sugríva's heart had fled, +And thus to Raghu's son he said: +"No bliss the Gods of heaven deny. +Each views me with a favouring eye, +When thou, whom all good gifts attend, +Hast sought me and become my friend. +Leagued, friend, with thee in bold emprise +My arm might win the conquered skies; +And shall our banded strength be weak +To gain the realm which now I seek? +A happy fate was mine above +My kith and kin and all I love, +When, near the witness fire, I won +Thy friendship, Raghu's glorious son. +Thou too in ripening time shall see +Thy friend not all unworthy thee. +What gifts I have shall thus be shown: +Not mine the tongue to make them known. +Strong is the changeless bond that binds +The friendly faith of noble minds, +In woe, in danger, firm and sure +Their constancy and love endure. +Gold, silver, jewels rich and rare +They count as wealth for friends to share. +Yea, be they rich or poor and low, +Blest with all joys or sunk in woe, +Stained with each fault or pure of blame, +Their friends the nearest place may claim; +For whom they leave, at friendship's call, +Their gold, their bliss, their homes and all." + + He spoke by generous impulse moved, +And Raghu's son his speech approved +Glancing at Lakshman by his side, +Like Indra in his beauty's pride. +The Vánar monarch saw the pair +Of mighty brothers standing there, +And turned his rapid eye to view +The forest trees that near him grew. +He saw, not far from where he stood, +A Sál tree towering o'er the wood. +Amid the thick leaves many a bee +Graced the scant blossoms of the tree, +From whose dark shade a bough, that bore +A load of leafy twigs, he tore, +Which on the grassy ground he laid +And seats for him and Ráma made. +Hanúmán saw them sit, he sought +A Sál tree's leafy bough and brought +The burthen, and with meek request +Entreated Lakshman, too, to rest. +There on the noble mountain's brow, +Strewn with the young leaves of the bough, +Sat Raghu's son in placid ease +Calm as the sea when sleeps the breeze. +Sugríva's heart with rapture swelled, +And thus, by eager love impelled, +He spoke in gracious tone, that, oft +Checked by his joy, was low and soft: +"I, by my brother's might oppressed, +By ceaseless woe and fear distressed, +Mourning my consort far away, +On Rishyamúka's mountain stray. +Expelled by Báli's cruel hate +I wander here disconsolate. +Do thou to whom all sufferers flee, +From his dread hand deliver me." + + He spoke, and Ráma, just and brave, +Whose pious soul to virtue clave, +Smiled as in conscious might he eyed +The king of Vánars, and replied: +"Best fruit of friendship is the deed +That helps the friend in hour of need; +And this mine arm in death shall lay +Thy robber ere the close of day. +For see, these feathered darts of mine +Whose points so fiercely flash and shine, +And shafts with golden emblem, came +From dark woods known by Skanda's name,(561) +Winged from the pinion of the hern +Like Indra's bolts they strike and burn. +With even knots and piercing head +Each like a furious snake is sped; +With these, to-day, before thine eye +Shall, like a shattered mountain, lie +Báli, thy dread and wicked foe, +O'erwhelmed in hideous overthrow." + + He spoke: Sugríva's bosom swelled +With hope and joy unparalleled. +Then his glad voice the Vánar raised, +And thus the son of Raghu praised: +"Long have I pined in depth of grief; +Thou art the hope of all, O chief. +Now, Raghu's son, I hail thee friend, +And bid thee to my woes attend; +For, by my truth I swear it, now +Not life itself is dear as thou, +Since by the witness fire we met +And friendly hand in hand was set. +Friend communes now with friend, and hence +I tell with surest confidence, +How woes that on my spirit weigh +Consume me through the night and day." + + For sobs and sighs he scarce could speak, +And his sad voice came low and weak, +As, while his eyes with tears o'erflowed, +The burden of his soul he showed. +Then by strong effort, bravely made, +The torrent of his tears he stayed, +Wiped his bright eyes, his grief subdued, +And thus, more calm, his speech renewed: + + "By Báli's conquering might oppressed, +Of power and kingship dispossessed, +Loaded with taunts of scorn and hate +I left my realm and royal state. +He tore away my consort: she +Was dearer than my life to me, +And many a friend to me and mine +In hopeless chains was doomed to pine. +With wicked thoughts, unsated still, +Me whom he wrongs he yearns to kill; +And spies of Vánar race, who tried +To slay me, by this hand have died. +Moved by this constant doubt and fear +I saw thee, Prince, and came not near. +When woe and peril gather round +A foe in every form is found. +Save Hanumán, O Raghu's son, +And these, no friend is left me, none. +Through their kind aid, a faithful band +Who guard their lord from hostile hand, +Rest when their chieftain rests and bend +Their steps where'er he lists to wend,-- +Through them alone, in toil and pain, +My wretched life I still sustain. +Enough, for thou hast heard in brief +The story of my pain and grief. +His mighty strength all regions know, +My brother, but my deadly foe. +Ah, if the proud oppressor fell, +His death would all my woe dispel. +Yea, on my cruel conqueror's fall +My joy depends, my life, my all. +This were the end and sure relief, +O Ráma, of my tale of grief. +Fair be his lot or dark with woe, +No comfort like a friend I know." + + Then Ráma spoke: "O friend, relate +Whence sprang fraternal strife and hate, +That duly taught by thee, I may +Each foeman's strength and weakness weigh: +And skilled in every chance restore +The blissful state thou hadst before. +For, when I think of all the scorn +And bitter woe thou long hast borne, +My soul indignant swells with pain +Like waters flushed with furious rain. +Then, ere I string this bended bow, +Tell me the tale I long to know, +Ere from the cord my arrow fly, +And low in death thy foeman lie." + + He spoke: Sugríva joyed to hear, +Nor less his lords were glad of cheer: +And thus to Ráma mighty-souled +The cause that moved their strife he told: + + + + +Canto IX. Sugríva's Story.(562) + + +"My brother, known by Báli's name, +Had won by might a conqueror's fame. +My father's eldest-born was he, +Well honoured by his sire and me. +My father died, and each sage lord +Named Báli king with one accord; +And he, by right of birth ordained, +The sovereign of the Vánars reigned. +He in his royal place controlled +The kingdom of our sires of old, +And I all faithful service lent +To aid my brother's government. +The fiend Máyáví,--him of yore +To Dundubhi(563) his mother bore,-- +For woman's love in strife engaged, +A deadly war with Báli waged. +When sleep had chained each weary frame +To vast Kishkindhá(564) gates he came, +And, shouting through the shades of night, +Challenged his foeman to the fight. +My brother heard the furious shout, +And wild with rage rushed madly out, +Though fain would I and each sad wife +Detain him from the deadly strife. +He burned his demon foe to slay, +And rushed impetuous to the fray. +His weeping wives he thrust aside, +And forth, impelled by fury, hied; +While, by my love and duty led, +I followed where my brother sped. +Máyáví looked, and at the sight +Fled from his foes in wild affright. +The flying fiend we quickly viewed, +And with swift feet his steps pursued. +Then rose the moon, whose friendly ray +Cast light upon our headlong way. +By the soft beams was dimly shown +A mighty cave with grass o'ergrown. +Within its depths he sprang, and we +The demon's form no more might see. +My brother's breast was all aglow +With fury when he missed the foe, +And, turning, thus to me he said +With senses all disquieted: +"Here by the cavern's mouth remain; +Keep ear and eye upon the strain, +While I the dark recess explore +And dip my brand in foeman's gore." +I heard his angry speech, and tried +To turn him from his plan aside. +He made me swear by both his feet, +And sped within the dark retreat. +While in the cave he stayed, and I +Watched at the mouth, a year went by. +For his return I looked in vain, +And, moved by love, believed him slain. +I mourned, by doubt and fear distressed, +And greater horror seized my breast +When from the cavern rolled a flood, +A carnage stream of froth and blood; +And from the depths a sound of fear, +The roar of demons, smote mine ear; +But never rang my brother's shout +Triumphant in the battle rout. +I closed the cavern with a block, +Huge as a hill, of shattered rock. +Gave offerings due to Báli's shade, +And sought Kishkindhá, sore dismayed. +Long time with anxious care I tried +From Báli's lords his fate to hide, +But they, when once the tale was known, +Placed me as king on Báli's throne. +There for a while I justly reigned +And all with equal care ordained, +When joyous from the demon slain +My brother Báli came again. +He found me ruling in his stead, +And, fired with rage, his eyes grew red. +He slew the lords who made me king, +And spoke keen words to taunt and sting. +The kingly rank and power I held +My brother's rage with ease had quelled, +But still, restrained by old respect +For claims of birth, the thought I checked. +Thus having struck the demon down +Came Báli to his royal town. +With meek respect, with humble speech, +His haughty heart I strove to reach. +But all my arts were tried in vain, +No gentle word his lips would deign, +Though to the ground I bent and set +His feet upon my coronet: +Still Báli in his rage and pride +All signs of grace and love denied." + + + + +Canto X. Sugríva's Story. + + +"I strove to soothe and lull to rest +The fury of his troubled breast: +"Well art thou come, dear lord," I cried. +"By whose strong arm thy foe has died. +Forlorn I languished here, but now +My saviour and defence art thou. +Once more receive this regal shade(565) +Like the full moon in heaven displayed; +And let the chouries,(566) thus restored, +Wave glorious o'er the rightful lord. +I kept my watch, thy word obeyed, +And by the cave a year I stayed. +But when I saw that stream of blood +Rush from the cavern in a flood, +My sad heart broken with dismay, +And every wandering sense astray, +I barred the entrance with a stone,-- +A crag from some high mountain thrown-- +Turned from the spot I watched in vain, +And to Kishkindhá came again. +My deep distress and downcast mien +By citizen and lord were seen. +They made me king against my will: +Forgive me if the deed was ill. +True as I ever was I see +My honoured king once more in thee; +I only ruled a while the state +When thou hadst left us desolate. +This town with people, lords, and lands, +Lay as a trust in guardian hands: +And now, my gracious lord, accept +The kingdom which thy servant kept. +Forgive me, victor of the foe, +Nor let thy wrath against me glow. +See joining suppliant hands I pray, +And at thy feet my head I lay. +Believe my words: against my will +The royal seat they made me fill. +Unkinged they saw the city, hence +They made me lord for her defence." + + But Báli, though I humbly sued, +Reviled me in his furious mood: +"Out on thee, wretch!" in wrath he cried +With many a bitter taunt beside. +He summoned every lord, and all +His subjects gathered at his call. +Then forth his burning anger broke, +And thus amid his friends he spoke: +"I need not tell, for well ye know, +How fierce Máyáví, fiend and foe, +Came to Kishkindhá's gate by night, +And dared me in his wrath to fight. +I heard each word the demon said: +Forth from my royal hall I sped; +And, foe in brother's guise concealed, +Sugríva followed to the field. +The mighty demon through the shade +Beheld me come with one to aid: +Then shrinking from unequal fight, +He turned his back in swiftest flight. +From vengeful foes his life to save +He sought the refuge of a cave. +Then when I saw the fiend had fled +Within that cavern dark and dread, +Thus to my brother cruel-eyed, +Impatient in my wrath, I cried: +"I seek no more my royal town +Till I have struck the demon down. +Here by the cavern's mouth remain +Until my hand the foe have slain." +Upon his faith my heart relied, +And swift within the depths I hied. +A year went by: in every spot +I sought the fiend, but found him not. +At length my foe I saw and slew, +Whom long I feared when lost to view; +And all his kinsmen by his side +Beneath my vengeful fury died. +The monster, as he reeled and fell, +Poured forth his blood with roar and yell; +And, filling all the cavern, dyed +The portal with the crimson tide. +Upon my foeman slain at last +One look, one pitying look, I cast. +I sought again the light of day: +The cave was closed and left no way. +To the barred mouth I sadly came, +And called aloud Sugríva's name. +But all was still: no voice replied, +And hope within my bosom died. +With furious efforts, vain at first, +Through bars of rock my way I burst. +Then, free once more, the path that brought +My feet in safety home I sought. +'Twas thus Sugríva dared despise +The claim of brothers' friendly ties. +With crags of rock he barred me in, +And for himself the realm would win." + + Thus Báli spoke in words severe; +And then, unmoved by ruth or fear, +Left me a single robe and sent +His brother forth in banishment. +He cast me out with scathe and scorn, +And from my side my wife was torn. +Now in great fear and ill at ease +I roam this land with woods and seas, +Or dwell on Rishyamúka's hill, +And sorrow for my consort still. +Thou hast the tale how first arose +This bitter hate of brother foes. +Such are the griefs neath which I pine, +And all without a fault of mine. +O swift to save in hour of fear, +My prayer who dread this Báli, hear +With gracious love assistance deign, +And mine oppressor's arm restrain." + + Then Raghu's son, the good and brave, +With a gay laugh his answer gave: +"These shafts of mine which ne'er can fail, +Before whose sheen the sun grows pale, +Winged by my fury, fleet and fierce, +The wicked Báli's heart shall pierce. +Yea, mark the words I speak, so long +Shall live that wretch who joys in wrong, +Until these angered eyes have seen +The robber of thy darling queen. +I, taught by equal suffering, know +What waves of grief above thee flow. +This hand thy captive wife shall free, +And give thy kingdom back to thee." + + Sugríva joyed as Ráma spoke, +And valour in his breast awoke. +His eye grew bright, his heart grew bold, +And thus his wondrous tale he told: + + + + +Canto XI. Dundubhi. + + +"I doubt not, Prince, thy peerless might, +Armed with these shafts so keen and bright, +Like all-destroying fires of fate, +The worlds could burn and devastate. +But lend thou first thy mind and ear +Of Báli's power and might to hear. +How bold, how firm, in battle tried, +Is Báli's heart; and then decide. +From east to west, from south to north +On restless errand hurrying forth, +From farthest sea to sea he flies +Before the sun has lit the skies. +A mountain top he oft will seek, +Tear from its root a towering peak, +Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball, +And catch it ere to earth it fall. +And many a tree that long has stood +In health and vigour in the wood, +His single arm to earth will throw, +The marvels of his might to show. +Shaped like a bull, a monster bore +The name of Dundubhi of yore: +He matched in size a mountain height, +A thousand elephants in might. +By pride of wondrous gifts impelled, +And strength he deemed unparalleled, +To Ocean, lord of stream and brook, +Athirst for war, his way he took. +He reached the king of rolling waves +Whose gems are piled in sunless caves, +And threw his challenge to the sea; +"Come forth, O King, and fight with me." +He spoke, and from his ocean bed +The righteous(567) monarch heaved his head, +And gave, sedate, his calm reply +To him whom fate impelled to die: +"Not mine, not mine the power," he cried, +"To cope with thee in battle tried; +But listen to my voice, and seek +The worthier foe of whom I speak. +The Lord of Hills, where hermits live +And love the home his forests give, +Whose child is Sankar's darling queen,(568) +The King of Snows is he I mean. +Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade +The torrent and the wild cascade. +From him expect the fierce delight +Which heroes feel in equal fight." + + He deemed that fear checked ocean's king, +And, like an arrow from the string, +To the wild woods that clothe the side +Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied. +Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar, +Huge fragments from the summit tore +Vast as Airávat,(569) white with snow, +And hurled them to the plains below. +Then like a white cloud soft, serene, +The Lord of Mountains' form was seen. +It sat upon a lofty crest, +And thus the furious fiend addressed: +"Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend, +My mountain tops to rive and rend; +For I, the hermit's calm retreat, +For deeds of war am all unmeet." + + The demon's eye with rage grew red, +And thus in furious tone he said: +"If thou from fear or sloth decline +To match thy strength in war with mine, +Where shall I find a champion, say, +To meet me burning for the fray?" +He spoke: Himálaya, skilled in lore +Of eloquence, replied once more, +And, angered in his righteous mind, +Addressed the chief of demon kind: +"The Vánar Báli, brave and wise, +Son of the God who rules the skies,(570) +Sways, glorious in his high renown, +Kishkindhá his imperial town. +Well may that valiant lord who knows +Each art of war his might oppose +To thine, in equal battle set, +As Namuehi(571) and Indra met. +Go, if thy soul desire the fray; +To Báli's city speed away, +And that unconquered hero meet +Whose fame is high for warlike feat." +He listened to the Lord of Snow, +And, his proud heart with rage aglow, +Sped swift away and lighted down +By vast Kishkindhá, Báli's town. +With pointed horns to strike and gore +The semblance of a bull he bore, +Huge as a cloud that downward bends +Ere the full flood of rain descends. +Impelled by pride and rage and hate, +He thundered at Kishkindhá's gate; +And with his bellowing, like the sound +Of pealing drums, he shook the ground, +He rent the earth and prostrate threw +The trees that near the portal grew. +King Báli from the bowers within +Indignant heard the roar and din. +Then, moonlike mid the stars, with all +His dames he hurried to the wall; +And to the fiend this speech, expressed +In clear and measured words, addressed: +"Know me for monarch. Báli styled, +Of Vánar tribes that roam the wild. +Say why dost thou this gate molest, +And bellowing thus disturb our rest? +I know thee, mighty fiend: beware +And guard thy life with wiser care." +He spoke: and thus the fiend returned, +While red with rage his eyeballs burned: +"What! speak when all thy dames are nigh +And hero-like thy foe defy? +Come, meet me in the fight this day, +And learn my strength by bold assay. +Or shall I spare thee, and relent +Until the coming night be spent? +Take then the respite of a night +And yield thee to each soft delight. +Then, monarch of the Vánar race +With loving arms thy friends embrace. +Gifts on thy faithful lords bestow, +Bid each and all farewell, and go. +Show in the streets once more thy face, +Install thy son to fill thy place. +Dally a while with each dear dame; +And then my strength thy pride shall tame +For, should I smite thee drunk with wine +Enamoured of those dames of thine, +Beneath diseases bowed and bent, +Or weak, unarmed, or negligent, +My deed would merit hate and scorn +As his who slays the child unborn." +Then Báli's soul with rage was fired, +Queen Tára and the dames retired; +And slowly, with a laugh of pride, +The king of Vánars thus replied: +"Me, fiend, thou deemest drunk with wine: +Unless thy fear the fight decline, +Come, meet me in the fray, and test +The spirit of my valiant breast." +He spoke in wrath and high disdain; +And, laying down his golden chain, +Gift of his sire Mahendra, dared +The demon, for the fray prepared; +Seized by the horns the monster, vast +As a huge hill, and held him fast, +Then fiercely dragged him round and round, +And, shouting, hurled him to the ground. +Blood streaming from his ears, he rose, +And wild with fury strove the foes. +Then Báli, match for Indra's might, +With every arm renewed the fight. +He fought with fists, and feet, and knees, +With fragments of the rock, and trees. +At last the monster's strength, assailed +By Sakra's(572) conquering offspring, failed. +Him Báli raised with mighty strain +And dashed upon the ground again; +Where, bruised and shattered, in a tide +Of rushing blood, the demon died. +King Báli saw the lifeless corse, +And bending, with tremendous force +Raised the huge bulk from where it lay, +And hurled it full a league away. +As through the air the body flew, +Some blood-drops, caught by gales that blew, +Welled from his shattered jaw and fell +By Saint Matanga's hermit cell: +Matanga saw, illustrious sage, +Those drops defile his hermitage, +And, as he marvelled whence they came, +Fierce anger filled his soul with flame: +"Who is the villain, evil-souled, +With childish thoughts unwise and bold, +Who is the impious wretch," he cried, +"By whom my grove with blood is dyed?" + + Thus spoke Matanga in his rage, +And hastened from the hermitage, +When lo, before his wondering eyes +Lay the dead bull of mountain size. +His hermit soul was nothing slow +The doer of the deed to know, +And thus the Vánar in a burst +Of wild tempestuous wrath he cursed: +"Ne'er let that Vánar wander here, +For, if he come, his death is near, +Whose impious hand with blood has dyed +The holy place where I abide, +Who threw this demon corse and made +A ruin of the pleasant shade. +If e'er he plant his wicked feet +Within one league of my retreat; +Yea, if the villain come so nigh +That very hour he needs must die. +And let the Vánar lords who dwell +In the dark woods that skirt my cell +Obey my words, and speeding hence +Find them some meeter residence. +Here if they dare to stay, on all +The terrors of my curse shall fall. +They spoil the tender saplings, dear +As children which I cherish here, +Mar root and branch and leaf and spray, +And steal the ripening fruit away. +One day I grant, no further hour, +To-morrow shall my curse have power, +And then each Vánar I may see +A stone through countless years shall be." +The Vánars heard the curse and hied +From sheltering wood and mountain side. +King Báli marked their haste and dread, +And to the flying leaders said: +"Speak, Vánar chiefs, and tell me why +From Saint Matanga's grove ye fly +To gather round me: is it well +With all who in those woodlands dwell?" +He spoke: the Vánar leaders told +King Báli with his chain of gold +What curse the saint had on them laid, +Which drove them from their ancient shade. +Then royal Báli sought the sage, +With reverent hands to soothe his rage. +The holy man his suppliant spurned, +And to his cell in anger turned. +That curse on Báli sorely pressed, +And long his conscious soul distressed. +Him still the curse and terror keep +Afar from Rishyamúka's steep. +He dares not to the grove draw nigh, +Nay scarce will hither turn his eye. +We know what terrors warm him hence, +And roam these woods in confidence. +Look, Prince, before thee white and dry +The demon's bones uncovered lie, +Who, like a hill in bulk and length, +Fell ruind for his pride of strength. +See those high Sál trees seven in row +That droop their mighty branches low, +These at one grasp would Báli seize, +And leafless shake the trembling trees. +These tales I tell, O Prince, to show +The matchless power that arms the foe. +How canst thou hope to slay him? how +Meet Báli in the battle now?" + + Sugríva spoke and sadly sighed: +And Lakshman with a laugh replied: +"What show of power, what proof and test +May still the doubts that fill thy breast?" + + He spoke. Sugríva thus replied: +"See yonder Sál trees side by side. +King Báli here would take his stand +Grasping his bow with vigorous hand, +And every arrow, keen and true, +Would strike its tree and pierce it through. +If Ráma now his bow will bend, +And through one trunk an arrow send; +Or if his arm can raise and throw +Two hundred measures of his bow, +Grasped by a foot and hurled through air, +The demon bull that moulders there, +My heart will own his might and fain +Believe my foe already slain." + + Sugríva spoke inflamed with ire, +Scanned Ráma with a glance of fire, +Pondered a while in silent mood. +And thus again his speech renewed: +"All lands with Báli's glories ring, +A valiant, strong, and mighty king; +In conscious power unused to yield, +A hero first in every field. +His wondrous deeds his might declare, +Deeds Gods might scarcely do or dare; +And on this power reflecting still +I roam on Rishyamúka's hill. +Awed by my brother's might I rove, +In doubt and fear, from grove to grove, +While Hanumán, my chosen friend, +And faithful lords my steps attend; +And now, O true to friendship's tie, +I hail in thee my best ally. +My surest refuge from my foes, +And steadfast as the Lord of Snows. +Still, when I muse how strong and bold +Is cruel Báli, evil-souled, +But ne'er, O chief of Raghu's line, +Have seen what strength in war is thine, +Though in my heart I may not dare +Doubt thy great might, despise, compare, +Thoughts of his fearful deeds will rise +And fill my soul with sad surmise. +Speech, form, and trust which naught may move +Thy secret strength and glory prove, +As smouldering ashes dimly show +The dormant fires that live below." + + He ceased: and Ráma answered, while +Played o'er his lips a gracious smile: +"Not yet convinced? This clear assay +Shall drive each lingering doubt away." +Thus Ráma spoke his heart to cheer, +To Dundubhi's vast frame drew near: +He touched it with his foot in play +And sent it twenty leagues away. +Sugríva marked what easy force +Hurled through the air that demon's corse +Whose mighty bones were white and dried, +And to the son of Raghu cried: +"My brother Báli, when his might +Was drunk and weary from the fight, +Hurled forth the monster body, fresh +With skin and sinews, blood and flesh. +Now flesh and blood are dried away, +The crumbling bones are light as hay, +Which thou, O Raghu's son, hast sent +Flying through air in merriment. +This test alone is weak to show +If thou be stronger or the foe. +By thee a heap of mouldering bone, +By him the recent corse was thrown. +Thy strength, O Prince, is yet untried: +Come, pierce one tree: let this decide. +Prepare thy ponderous bow and bring +Close to thine ear the straining string. +On yonder Sál tree fix thine eye, +And let the mighty arrow fly, +I doubt not, chief, that I shall see +Thy pointed shaft transfix the tree. +Then come, assay the easy task, +And do for love the thing I ask. + Best of all lights, the Day-God fills + With glory earth and sky: + Himálaya is the lord of hills + That heave their heads on high. + The royal lion is the best + Of beasts that tread the earth; + And thou, O hero, art confessed + First in heroic worth." + + + + +Canto XII. The Palm Trees. + + +Then Ráma, that his friend might know +His strength unrivalled, grasped his bow, +That mighty bow the foe's dismay,-- +And on the string an arrow lay. +Next on the tree his eye he bent, +And forth the hurtling weapon went. +Loosed from the matchless hero's hold, +That arrow, decked with burning gold, +Cleft the seven palms in line, and through +The hill that rose behind them flew: +Six subterranean realms it passed, +And reached the lowest depth at last, +Whence speeding back through earth and air +It sought the quiver, and rested there.(573) +Upon the cloven trees amazed, +The sovereign of the Vánars gazed. +With all his chains and gold outspread +Prostrate on earth he laid his head. +Then, rising, palm to palm he laid +In reverent act, obeisance made, +And joyously to Ráma, best +Of war-trained chiefs, these words addressed: + + "What champion, Raghu's son, may hope +With thee in deadly fight to cope, +Whose arrow, leaping from the bow, +Cleaves tree and hill and earth below? +Scarce might the Gods, arrayed for strife +By Indra's self, escape, with life +Assailed by thy victorious hand: +And how may Báli hope to stand? +All grief and care are past away, +And joyous thoughts my bosom sway, +Who have in thee a friend, renowned, +As Varun(574) or as Indra, found. +Then on! subdue,--'tis friendship's claim,-- +My foe who bears a brother's name. +Strike Báli down beneath thy feet: +With suppliant hands I thus entreat." +Sugríva ceased, and Ráma pressed +The grateful Vánar to his breast; +And thoughts of kindred feeling woke +In Lakshman's bosom, as he spoke: +"On to Kishkindhá, on with speed! +Thou, Vánar King, our way shalt lead, +Then challenge Báli forth to fight. +Thy foe who scorns a brother's right." + + They sought Kishkindhá's gate and stood +Concealed by trees in densest wood, +Sugríva, to the fight addressed, +More closely drew his cinctured vest, +And raised a wild sky-piercing shout +To call the foeman Báli out. + + Forth came impetuous Báli, stirred +To fury by the shout he heard. +So the great sun, ere night has ceased, +Springs up impatient to the east. +Then fierce and wild the conflict raged +As hand to hand the foes engaged, +As though in battle mid the stars +Fought Mercury and fiery Mars.(575) +To highest pitch of frenzy wrought +With fists like thunderbolts they fought, +While near them Ráma took his stand, +And viewed the battle, bow in hand. +Alike they stood in form and might, +Like heavenly Asvins(576) paired in fight, +Nor might the son of Raghu know +Where fought the friend and where the foe; +So, while his bow was ready bent, +No life-destroying shaft he sent. +Crushed down by Báli's mightier stroke +Sugríva's force now sank and broke, +Who, hoping naught from Ráma's aid, +To Rishyamúka fled dismayed, +Weary, and faint, and wounded sore, +His body bruised and dyed with gore, +From Báli's blows, in rage and dread, +Afar to sheltering woods he fled. + + Nor Báli farther dared pursue, +The curbing curse too well he knew. +"Fled from thy death!" the victor cried, +And home the mighty warrior hied. +Hanúmán, Lakshman, Raghu's son +Beheld the conquered Vánar run, +And followed to the sheltering shade +Where yet Sugríva stood dismayed. +Near and more near the chieftains came, +Then, for intolerable shame, +Not daring yet to lift his eyes, +Sugríva spoke with burning sighs: +"Thy matchless strength I first beheld, +And dared my foe, by thee impelled. +Why hast thou tried me with deceit +And urged me to a sure defeat? +Thou shouldst have said, "I will not slay +Thy foeman in the coming fray." +For had I then thy purpose known +I had not waged the fight alone." + + The Vánar sovereign, lofty-souled, +In plaintive voice his sorrows told. +Then Ráma spake: "Sugríva, list, +All anger from thy heart dismissed, +And I will tell the cause that stayed +Mine arrow, and withheld the aid. +In dress, adornment, port, and height, +In splendour, battle-shout, and might, +No shade of difference could I see +Between thy foe, O King, and thee. +So like was each, I stood at gaze, +My senses lost in wildering maze, +Nor loosened from my straining bow +A deadly arrow at the foe, +Lest in my doubt the shaft should send +To sudden death our surest friend. +O, if this hand in heedless guilt +And rash resolve thy blood had spilt, +Through every land, O Vánar King, +My wild and foolish act would ring. +Sore weight of sin on him must lie +By whom a friend is made to die; +And Lakshman, I, and Sítá, best +Of dames, on thy protection rest. +On, warrior! for the fight prepare; +Nor fear again thy foe to dare. +Within one hour thine eye shall view +My arrow strike thy foeman through; +Shall see the stricken Báli lie +Low on the earth, and gasp and die. +But come, a badge about thee bind, +O monarch of the Vánar kind, +That in the battle shock mine eyes +The friend and foe may recognize. +Come, Lakshman, let that creeper deck +With brightest bloom Sugríva's neck, +And be a happy token, twined +Around the chief of lofty mind." + + Upon the mountain slope there grew +A threading creeper fair to view, +And Lakshman plucked the bloom and round +Sugríva's neck a garland wound. +Graced with the flowery wreath he wore, +The Vánar chief the semblance bore +Of a dark cloud at close of day +Engarlanded with cranes at play, +In glorious light the Vánar glowed +As by his comrade's side he strode, +And, still on Ráma's word intent, +His steps to great Kishkindhá bent. + + + + +Canto XIII. The Return To Kishkindhá. + + +Thus with Sugríva, from the side +Of Rishyamúka, Ráma hied, +And stood before Kishkindhá's gate +Where Báli kept his regal state. +The hero in his warrior hold +Raised his great bow adorned with gold, +And drew his pointed arrow bright +As sunbeams, finisher of fight. +Strong-necked Sugríva led the way +With Lakshman mighty in the fray. +Nala and Níla came behind +With Hanumán of lofty mind, +And valiant Tára, last in place, +A leader of the Vánar race. +They gazed on many a tree that showed +The glory of its pendent load, +And brook and limpid rill that made +Sweet murmurs as they seaward strayed. +They looked on caverns dark and deep, +On bower and glen and mountain steep, +And saw the opening lotus stud +With roseate cup the crystal flood, +While crane and swan and coot and drake +Made pleasant music on the lake, +And from the reedy bank was heard +The note of many a happy bird. +In open lawns, in tangled ways, +They saw the tall deer stand at gaze, +Or marked them free and fearless roam, +Fed with sweet grass, their woodland home. +At times two flashing tusks between +The wavings of the wood were seen, +And some mad elephant, alone, +Like a huge moving hill, was shown. +And scarcely less in size appeared +Great monkeys all with dust besmeared. +And various birds that roam the skies, +And silvan creatures, met their eyes, +As through the wood the chieftains sped, +And followed where Sugríva led. + + Then Ráma, as their way they made, +Saw near at hand a lovely shade, +And, as he gazed upon the trees, +Spake to Sugríva words like these; +"Those stately trees in beauty rise, +Fair as a cloud in autumn skies. +I fain, my friend, would learn from thee +What pleasant grove is that I see." + + Thus Ráma spake, the mighty souled; +And thus his tale Sugríva told: + + "That, Ráma, is a wide retreat +That brings repose to weary feet. +Bright streams and fruit and roots are there, +And shady gardens passing fair. +There, neath the roof of hanging boughs, +The sacred Seven maintained their vows. +Their heads in dust were lowly laid, +In streams their nightly beds were made. +Each seventh night they broke their fast, +But air was still their sole repast, +And when seven hundred years were spent +To homes in heaven the hermits went. +Their glory keeps the garden yet, +With walls of stately trees beset. +Scarce would the Gods and demons dare, +By Indra led, to enter there. +No beast that roams the wood is found, +No bird of air, within the bound; +Or, thither if they idly stray, +They find no more their homeward way. +You hear at times mid dulcet tones +The chime of anklets, rings, and zones. +You hear the song and music sound, +And heavenly fragrance breathes around, +There duly burn the triple fires(577) +Where mounts the smoke in curling spires, +And, in a dun wreath, hangs above +The tall trees, like a brooding dove. +Round branch and crest the vapours close +Till every tree enveloped shows +A hill of lazulite when clouds +Hang round it with their misty shrouds. +With Lakshman, lord of Raghu's line, +In reverent guise thine head incline, +And with fixt heart and suppliant hand +Give honour to the sainted band. +They who with faithful hearts revere +The holy Seven who harboured here, +Shall never, son of Raghu, know +In all their lives an hour of woe." + + Then Ráma and his brother bent, +And did obeisance reverent +With suppliant hand and lowly head, +Then with Sugríva onward sped. +Beyond the sainted Seven's abode +Far on their way the chieftains strode, +And great Kishkindhá's portal gained, +The royal town where Báli reigned. +Then by the gate they took their stand +All ready armed a noble band, + And burning every one +To slay in battle, hand to hand, + Their foeman, Indra's son. + + + + +Canto XIV. The Challenge. + + +They stood where trees of densest green +Wove round their forms a veiling screen. +O'er all the garden's pleasant shade +The eyes of King Sugríva strayed, +And, as on grass and tree he gazed, +The fires of wrath within him blazed. +Then like a mighty cloud on high, +When roars the tempest through the sky, +Girt by his friends he thundered out +His dread sky-rending battle-shout +Like some proud lion in his gait, +Or as the sun begins his state, +Sugríva let his quick glance rest +On Ráma whom he thus addressed: +"There is the seat of Báli's sway, +Where flags on wall and turret play, +Which mighty bands of Vánars hold, +Rich in all arms and store of gold. +Thy promise to thy mind recall +That Báli by thy hand shall fall. +As kindly fruits adorn the bough. +So give my hopes their harvest now." + + In suppliant tone the Vánar prayed, +And Raghu's son his answer made: +"By Lakshman's hand this flowery twine +Was wound about thee for a sign. +The wreath of giant creeper throws +About thy form its brillant glows, +As though about the sun were set +The bright stars for a coronet. +One shaft of mine this day, dear friend, +Thy sorrow and thy fear shall end. +And, from the bowstring freed, shall be +Giver of freedom, King, to thee. +Then come, Sugríva, quickly show, +Where'er he lie, thy bitter foe; +And let my glance the wretch descry +Whose deeds, a brother's name belie. +Yea, soon in dust and blood o'erthrown +Shall Báli fall and gasp and groan. +Once let this eye the foeman see, +Then, if he live to turn and flee, +Despise my puny strength, and shame +With foul opprobrium Ráma's name. +Hast thou not seen his hand, O King, +Through seven tall trees one arrow wing? +Still in that strength securely trust, +And deem thy foeman in the dust. +In all my days, though surely tried +By grief and woe, I ne'er have lied; +And still by duty's law restrained +Will ne'er with falsehood's charge be stained. +Cast doubt away: the oath I sware +Its kindly fruit shall quickly bear, +As smiles the land with golden grain +By mercy of the Lord of rain. +Oh, warrior to the gate I defy +Thy foe with shout and battle-cry, +Till Báli with his chain of gold +Come speeding from his royal hold. +Proud hearts, with warlike fire aglow, +Brook not the challenge of a foe: +Each on his power and might relies, +And most before his ladies eyes. +King Báli loves the fray too well +To linger in his citadel, +And, when he hears thy battle-shout, +All wild for war will hasten out." + + He spoke. Sugríva raised a cry +That shook and rent the echoing sky, +A shout so fierce and loud and dread +That stately bulls in terror fled, +Like dames who fly from threatened stain +In some ignoble monarch's reign. +The deer in wild confusion ran +Like horses turned in battle's van. +Down fell the birds, like Gods who fall +When merits fail,(578) at that dread call. +So fiercely, boldened for the fray, +The offspring of the Lord of Day +Sent forth his furious shout as loud +As thunder from a labouring cloud, +Or, where the gale blows fresh and free, +The roaring of the troubled sea. + + + + +Canto XV. Tárá. + + +That shout, which shook the land with fear, +In thunder smote on Báli's ear, +Where in the chamber barred and closed +The sovereign with his dame reposed. +Each amorous thought was rudely stilled, +And pride and rage his bosom filled. +His angry eyes flashed darkly red, +And all his native brightness fled, +As when, by swift eclipse assailed, +The glory of the sun has failed. +While in his fury uncontrolled +He ground his teeth, his eyeballs rolled, +He seemed a lake wherein no gem +Of blossom decks the lotus stem. +He heard, and with indignant pride +Forth from the bower the Vánar hied. +And the earth trembled at the beat +And fury of his hastening feet. +But Tárá to her consort flew, +Her loving arms around him threw, +And trembling and bewildered, gave +Wise counsel that might heal and save: +"O dear my lord, this rage control +That like a torrent floods thy soul, +And cast these idle thoughts away +Like faded wreath of yesterday, +O tarry till the morning light, +Then, if thou wilt, go forth and fight. +Think not I doubt thy valour, no; +Or deem thee weaker than thy foe, +Yet for a while would have thee stay +Nor see thee tempt the fight to-day. +Now list, my loving lord, and learn +The reason why I bid thee turn. +Thy foeman came in wrath and pride, +And thee to deadly fight defied. +Thou wentest out: he fought, and fled +Sore wounded and discomfited. +But yet, untaught by late defeat, +He comes his conquering foe to meet, +And calls thee forth with cry and shout: +Hence spring, my lord, this fear and doubt. +A heart so bold that will not yield, +But yearns to tempt the desperate field, +Such loud defiance, fiercely pressed, +On no uncertain hope can rest. +So lately by thine arm o'erthrown, +He comes not back, I ween, alone. +Some mightier comrade guards his side, +And spurs him to this burst of pride. +For nature made the Vánar wise: +On arms of might his hope relies; +And never will Sugríva seek +A friend whose power to save is weak. +Now listen while my lips unfold +The wondrous tale my Angad told. +Our child the distant forest sought, +And, learnt from spies, the tidings brought. +Two sons of Dasaratha, sprung +From old Ikshváku, brave and young, +Renowned in arms, in war untamed-- +Ráma and Lakshman are they named-- +Have with thy foe Sugríva made +A league of love and friendly aid. +Now Ráma, famed for exploit high, +Is bound thy brother's firm ally, +Like fires of doom(579) that ruin all +He makes each foe before him fall. +He is the suppliant's sure defence, +The tree that shelters innocence. +The poor and wretched seek his feet: +In him the noblest glories meet. +With skill and knowledge vast and deep +His sire's commands he loved to keep; +With princely gifts and graces stored +As metals deck the Mountains' Lord.(580) +Thou canst not, O my hero, stand +Before the might of Ráma's hand; +For none may match his powers or dare +With him in deeds of war compare. +Hear, I entreat, the words I say, +Nor lightly turn my rede away. +O let fraternal discord cease, +And link you in the bonds of peace. +Let consecrating rites ordain +Sugríva partner of thy reign. +Let war and thoughts of conflict end, +And be thou his and Ráma's friend, +Each soft approach of love begin, +And to thy soul thy brother win; +For whether here or there he be, +Thy brother still, dear lord, is he. +Though far and wide these eyes I strain +A friend like him I seek in vain. +Let gentle words his heart incline, +And gifts and honours make him thine, +Till, foes no more, in love allied, +You stand as brothers side by side. +Thou in high rank wast wont to hold +Sugríva, formed in massive mould; +Then come, thy brother's love regain, +For other aids are weak and vain. +If thou would please my soul, and still +Preserve me from all fear and ill, +I pray thee by thy love be wise +And do the thing which I advise. +Assuage thy fruitless wrath, and shun +The mightier arms of Raghu's son; +For Indra's peer in might is he, +A foe too strong, my lord, for thee." + + + + +Canto XVI. The Fall Of Báli. + + +Thus Tárá with the starry eyes(581) +Her counsel gave with burning sighs. +But Báli, by her prayers unmoved, +Spurned her advice, and thus reproved: +"How may this insult, scathe, and scorn +By me, dear love, be tamely born? +My brother, yea my foe, comes nigh +And dares me forth with shout and cry. +Learn, trembler! that the valiant, they +Who yield no step in battle fray, +Will die a thousand deaths but ne'er +An unavenged dishonour bear. +Nor, O my love, be thou dismayed +Though Ráma lend Sugríva aid, +For one so pure and duteous, one +Who loves the right, all sin will shun, +Release me from thy soft embrace, +And with thy dames thy steps retrace: +Enough already, O mine own, +Of love and sweet devotion shown. +Drive all thy fear and doubt away; +I seek Sugríva in the fray +His boisterous rage and pride to still, +And tame the foe I would not kill. +My fury, armed with brandished trees, +Shall strike Sugríva to his knees: +Nor shall the humbled foe withstand +The blows of my avenging hand, +When, nerved by rage and pride, I beat +The traitor down beneath my feet. +Thou, love, hast lent thine own sweet aid, +And all thy tender care displayed; +Now by my life, by these who yearn +To serve thee well, I pray thee turn. +But for a while, dear dame, I go +To come triumphant o'er the foe." + + Thus Báli spake in gentlest tone: +Soft arms about his neck were thrown; +Then round her lord the lady went +With sad steps slow and reverent. +She stood in solemn guise to bless +With prayers for safety and success, +Then with her train her chamber sought +By grief and racking fear distraught. + + With serpent's pantings fierce and fast +King Báli from the city passed. +His glance, as each quick breath he drew, +Around to find the foe he threw, +And saw where fierce Sugríva showed +His form with golden hues that glowed, +And, as a fire resplendent, stayed +To meet his foe in arms arrayed. +When Báli, long-armed chieftain, found +Sugríva stationed on the ground, +Impelled by warlike rage he braced +His warrior garb about his waist, +And with his mighty arm raised high +Rushed at Sugríva with a cry. +But when Sugríva, fierce and bold, +Saw Báli with his chain of gold, +His arm he heaved, his hand he closed, +And face to face his foe opposed. +To him whose eyes with fury shone, +In charge impetuous rushing on, +Skilled in each warlike art and plan, +Báli with hasty words began: +"My ponderous hand, to fight addressed +With fingers clenched and arm compressed +Shall on thy death doomed brow descend +And, crashing down, thy life shall end." +He spoke; and wild with rage and pride, +The fierce Sugríva thus replied: +"Thus let my arm begin the strife +And from thy body crush the life." + + Then Báli, wounded and enraged, +With furious blows the battle waged. +Sugríva seemed, with blood-streams dyed, +A hill with fountains in his side. +But with his native force unspent +A Sál tree from the earth he rent, +And like the bolt of Indra smote +On Báli's head and chest and throat. +Bruised by the blows he could not shield, +Half vanquished Báli sank and reeled, +As sinks a vessel with her freight +Borne down by overwhelming weight. +Swift as Suparna's(582) swiftest flight +In awful strength they rushed to fight: +So might the sun and moon on high +Encountering battle in the sky. +Fierce and more fierce, as fought the foes, +The furious rage of combat rose. +They warred with feet and arms and knees, +With nails and stones and boughs and trees, +And blows descending fast as rain +Dyed each dark form with crimson stain, +While like two thunder-clouds they met +With battle-cry and shout and threat. +Then Ráma saw Sugríva quail, +Marked his worn strength grow weak and fail. +Saw how he turned his wistful eye +To every quarter of the sky. +His friend's defeat he could not brook, +Bent on his shaft an eager look, +Then burned to slay the conquering foe, +And laid his arrow on the bow. +As to an orb the bow he drew +Forth from the string the arrow flew +Like Fate's tremendous discus hurled +By Yáma(583) forth to end the world. +So loud the din that every bird +The bow-string's clans with terror heard, +And wildly fled the affrighted deer +As though the day of doom were near. +So, deadly as the serpent's fang, +Forth from the string the arrow sprang. +Like the red lightning's flash and flame +It flew unerring to its aim, +And, hissing murder through the air, +Pierced Báli's breast, and quivered there. +Struck by the shaft that flew so well +The mighty Vánar reeled and fell, +As earthward Indra's flag they pull +When Asvíní's fair moon is full.(584) + + + + +Canto XVII. Báli's Speech. + + +Like some proud tree before the blast +Brave Báli to the ground was cast, +Where prostrate in the dust he rolled +Clad in the sheen of glistening gold, +As when uptorn the standard lies +Of the great God who rules the skies. +When low upon the earth was laid +The lord whom Vánar tribes obeyed, +Dark as a moonless sky no more +His land her joyous aspect wore. +Though low in dust and mire was rolled +The form of Báli lofty-souled, +Still life and valour, might and grace +Clung to their well-loved dwelling-place. +That golden chain with rich gems set, +The choicest gift of Sákra,(585) yet +Preserved his life nor let decay +Steal strength and beauty's light away. +Still from that chain divinely wrought +His dusky form a glory caught, +As a dark cloud, when day is done, +Made splendid by the dying sun. +As fell the hero, crushed in fight, +There beamed afar a triple light +From limbs, from chain, from shaft that drank +His life-blood as the warrior sank. +The never-failing shaft, impelled +By the great bow which Ráma held, +Brought bliss supreme, and lit the way +To Brahmá's worlds which ne'er decay.(586) + + Ráma and Lakshman nearer drew +The mighty fallen foe to view, +Mahendra's son, the brave and bold, +The monarch with his chain of gold, +With lustrous face and tawny eyes, +Broad chest, and arms of wondrous size, +Like Lord Mahendra fierce in fight, +Or Vishnu's never-conquered might, +Now fallen like Yayáti(587) sent +From heaven, his store of merit spent, +Like the bright flame that pales and dies, +Like the great sun who fires the skies, +Doomed in the general doom to fall +When time shall end and ruin all. + + The wounded Báli, when he saw +Ráma and Lakshman nearer draw, +Keen words to Raghu's son, impressed +With justice' holy stamp, addressed: + + "What fame, from one thou hast not slain +In front of battle, canst thou gain, +Whose secret hand has laid me low +When madly fighting with my foe? +From every tongue thy glory rings, +A scion of a line of kings, +True to thy vows, of noblest race, +With every gentle gift and grace: +Whose tender heart for woe can feel, +And joy in every creature's weal: +Whose breast with high ambition swells, +Knows duty's claim and ne'er rebels. +They praise thy valour, patience, ruth, +Thy firmness, self-restraint, and truth: +Thy hand prepared for sin's control, +All virtues of a princely soul. +I thought of all these gifts of thine, +And glories of an ancient line, +I set my Tárá's tears at naught, +I met Sugríva and we fought. +O Ráma, till this fatal morn +I held that thou wouldst surely scorn +To strike me as I fought my foe +And thought not of a stranger's blow, +But now thine evil heart is shown, +A yawning well with grass o'ergrown. +Thou wearest virtue's badge,(588) but guile +And meanest sin thy soul defile. +I took thee not for treacherous fire, +A sinner clad in saint's attire; +Nor deemed thou idly wouldst profess +The show and garb of righteousness. +In fenced town, in open land, +Ne'er hast thou suffered at this hand, +Nor canst of proud contempt complain: +Then wherefore is the guiltless slain? +My harmless life in woods I lead, +On forest fruits and roots I feed. +My foeman in the field I sought, +And ne'er with thee, O Ráma, fought. +Upon thy limbs, O King, I see +The raiment of a devotee; +And how can one like thee, who springs +From a proud line of ancient kings, +Beneath fair virtue's mask, disgrace +His lineage by a deed so base? +From Raghu is thy long descent, +For duteous deeds prëeminent: +Why, sinner clad in saintly dress, +Roamest thou through the wilderness? +Truth, valour, justice free from spot, +The hand that gives and grudges not, +The might that strikes the sinner down, +These bring a prince his best renown. +Here in the woods, O King, we live +On roots and fruit which branches give.(589) +Thus nature framed our harmless race: +Thou art a man supreme in place. +Silver and gold and land provoke +The fierce attack, the robber's stroke, +Canst thou desire this wild retreat, +The berries and the fruit we eat? +'Tis not for mighty kings to tread +The flowery path, by pleasure led. +Theirs be the arm that crushes sin, +Theirs the soft grace to woo and win: +The steadfast will that guides the state, +Wise favour to the good and great; +And for all time are kings renowned +Who blend these arts and ne'er confound. +But thou art weak and swift to ire, +Unstable, slave of each desire. +Thou tramplest duty in the dust, +And in thy bow is all thy trust. +Thou carest naught for noble gain, +And treatest virtue with disdain, +While every sense its captive draws +To follow pleasure's changing laws. +I wronged thee not in word or deed, +But by thy deadly dart I bleed. +What wilt thou, mid the virtuous, say +To purge thy lasting stain away? +All these, O King, must sink to hell, +The regicide, the infidel, +He who in blood and slaughter joys, +A Bráhman or a cow destroys, +Untimely weds in law's despite +Scorning an elder brother's right,(590) +Who dares his Teacher's bed ascend, +The miser, spy, and treacherous friend. +These impious wretches, one and all, +Must to the hell of sinners fall. +My skin the holy may not wear, +Useless to thee my bones and hair; +Nor may my slaughtered body be +The food of devotees like thee. +These five-toed things a man may slay +And feed upon the fallen prey; +The mailed rhinoceros may die, +And, with the hare his food supply. +Iguanas he may kill and eat, +With porcupine and tortoise meat.(591) +But all the wise account it sin +To touch my bones and hair and skin. +My flesh they may not eat; and I +A useless prey, O Ráma, die. +In vain my Tárá reasoned well, +On dull deaf ears her counsel fell. +I scorned her words though sooth and sweet, +And hither rushed my fate to meet. +Ah for the land thou rulest! she +Finds no protection, lord, from thee, +Neglected like some noble dame +By a vile husband dead to shame. +Mean-hearted coward, false and vile, +Whose cruel soul delights in guile, +Could Dasaratha, noblest king, +Beget so mean and base a thing? +Alas! an elephant, in form +Of Ráma, in a maddening storm +Of passion casting to the ground +The girth of law(592) that clipped him round, +Too wildly passionate to feel +The prick of duty's guiding steel,(593) +Has charged me unawares, and dead +I fall beneath his murderous tread. +How, stained with this my base defeat, +How wilt thou dare, where good men meet, +To speak, when every tongue will blame +With keen reproach this deed of shame? +Such hero strength and valour, shown +Upon the innocent alone, +Thou hast not proved in manly strife +On him who robbed thee of thy wife. +Hadst thou but fought in open field +And met me boldly unconcealed, +This day had been thy fate to fall, +Slain by this hand, to Yáma's hall. +In vain I strove, and struck by thee +Fell by a hand I could not see. +Thus bites a snake, for sins of yore, +A sleeping man who wakes no more. +Sugríva's foeman thou hast killed, +And thus his heart's desire fulfilled; +But, Ráma, hadst thou sought me first, +And told the hope thy soul has nursed, +That very day had I restored +The Maithil lady to her lord; +And, binding Rávan with a chain, +Had laid him at thy feet unslain. +Yea, were she sunk in deepest hell, +Or whelmed beneath the ocean's swell, +I would have followed on her track +And brought the rescued lady back, +As Hayagríva(594) once set free +From hell the white Asvatarí.(595) +That when my spirit wings its flight +Sugríva reign, is just and right. +But most unjust, O King, that I, +Slain by thy treacherous hand, should lie. +Be still, my heart: this earthly state +Is darkly ruled by sovereign Fate. +The realm is lost and won: defy +Thy questioners with apt reply."(596) + + + + +Canto XVIII. Ráma's Reply. + + +He ceased: and Ráma's heart was stirred +At every keen reproach he heard. +There Báli lay, a dim dark sun, +His course of light and glory run: +Or like the bed of Ocean dried +Of his broad floods from side to side, +Or helpless, as the dying fire, +Hushed his last words of righteous ire. +Then Ráma, with his spirit moved, +The Vánar king in turn reproved: +"Why dost thou, Báli, thus revile, +And castest not a glance the while +On claims of duty, love, and gain, +And customs o'er the world that reign? +Why dost thou blame me, rash and blind, +Fickle as all thy Vánar kind, +Slighting each rule of ancient days +Which all the good and prudent praise? +This land, each hill and woody chase, +Belongs to old Ikshváku's race: +With bird and beast and man, the whole +Is ours to cherish and control. +Now Bharat, prompt at duty's call, +Wise, just, and true, is lord of all. +Each claim of law, love, gain he knows, +And wrath and favour duly shows. +A king from truth who never bends, +And grace with vigour wisely blends; +With valour worthy of his race, +He knows the claims of time and place. +Now we and other kings of might, +By his ensample taught aright, +The lands of every region tread +That justice may increase and spread. +While royal Bharat, wise and just, +Rules the broad earth, his glorious trust, +Who shall attempt, while he is lord, +A deed by Justice held abhorred? +We now, as Bharat has decreed, +Let justice guide our every deed, +And toil each sinner to repress +Who scorns the way of righteousness. +Thou from that path hast turned aside, +And virtue's holy law defied, +Left the fair path which kings should tread, +And followed pleasure's voice instead. +The man who cleaves to duty's law +Regards these three with filial awe-- +The sire, the elder brother, third +Him from whose lips his lore he heard. +Thus too, for duty's sake, the wise +Regard with fond paternal eyes +The well-loved younger brother, one +Their lore has ripened, and a son. +Fine are the laws which guide the good, +Abstruse, and hardly understood; +Only the soul, enthroned within +The breast of each, knows right from sin. +But thou art wild and weak of soul, +And spurnest, like thy race, control; +The true and right thou canst not find, +The blind consulting with the blind. +Incline thine ear and I will teach +The cause that prompts my present speech. +This tempest of thy soul assuage, +Nor blame me in thine idle rage. +On this great sin thy thoughts bestow, +The sin for which I lay thee low. +Thou, Báli, in thy brother's life +Hast robbed him of his wedded wife, +And keepest, scorning ancient right, +His Rumá for thine own delight. +Thy son's own wife should scarcely be +More sacred in thine eyes than she. +All duty thou hast scorned, and hence +Comes punishment for dire offence. +For those who blindly do amiss +There is, I ween, no way but this: +To check the rash who dare to stray +From customs which the good obey, +I may not, sprung of Kshatriya line, +Forgive this heinous sin of thine: +The laws for those who sin like thee +The penalty of death decree. +Now Bharat rules with sovereign sway, +And we his royal word obey. +There was no hope of pardon, none, +For the vile deed that thou hast done, +That wisest monarch dooms to die +The wretch whose crimes the law defy; +And we, chastising those who err, +His righteous doom administer. +My soul accounts Sugríva dear +E'en as my brother Lakshman here. +He brings me blessing, and I swore +His wife and kingdom to restore: +A bond in solemn honour bound +When Vánar chieftains stood around. +And can a king like me forsake +His friend, and plighted promise break? +Reflect, O Vánar, on the cause, +The sanction of eternal laws, +And, justly smitten down, confess +Thou diest for thy wickedness. +By honour was I bound to lend +Assistance to a faithful friend; +And thou hast met a righteous fate +Thy former sins to expiate. +And thus wilt thou some merit win +And make atonement for thy sin. +For hear me, Vánar King, rehearse +What Manu(597) spake in ancient verse,-- +This holy law, which all accept +Who honour duty, have I kept: +"Pure grow the sinners kings chastise, +And, like the virtuous, gain the skies; +By pain or full atonement freed, +They reap the fruit of righteous deed, +While kings who punish not incur +The penalties of those who err." +Mándhátá(598) once, a noble king, +Light of the line from which I spring, +Punished with death a devotee +When he had stooped to sin like thee; +And many a king in ancient time +Has punished frantic sinners' crime, +And, when their impious blood was spilt, +Has washed away the stain of guilt. +Cease, Báli, cease: no more complain: +Reproaches and laments are vain, +For thou art justly punished: we +Obey our king and are not free. +Once more, O Báli, lend thine ear +Another weightiest plea to hear. +For this, when heard and pondered well, +Will all complaint and rage dispel. +My soul will ne'er this deed repent, +Nor was my shaft in anger sent. +We take the silvan tribes beset +With snare and trap and gin and net, +And many a heedless deer we smite +From thickest shade, concealed from sight. +Wild for the slaughter of the game, +At stately stags our shafts we aim. +We strike them bounding scared away, +We strike them as they stand at bay, +When careless in the shade they lie, +Or scan the plain with watchful eye. +They turn away their heads; we aim, +And none the eager hunter blame. +Each royal saint, well trained in law +Of duty, loves his bow to draw +And strike the quarry, e'en as thou +Hast fallen by mine arrow now, +Fighting with him or unaware,-- +A Vánar thou.--I little care.(599) +But yet, O best of Vánars, know +That kings who rule the earth bestow +Fruit of pure life and virtuous deed, +And lofty duty's hard-won meed. +Harm not thy lord the king: abstain +From act and word that cause him pain; +For kings are children of the skies +Who walk this earth in men's disguise. +But thou, in duty's claims untaught, +Thy breast with blinding passion fraught, +Assailest me who still have clung +To duty, with thy bitter tongue." + + He ceased: and Báli sore distressed +The sovereign claims of law confessed, +And freed, o'erwhelmed with woe and shame, +The lord of Raghu's race from blame. +Then, reverent palm to palm applied, +To Ráma thus the Vánar cried: +"True, best of men, is every word +That from thy lips these ears have heard, +It ill beseems a wretch like me +To bandy empty words with thee. +Forgive the angry taunts that broke +From my wild bosom as I spoke. +And lay not to my charge, O King, +My mad reproaches' idle sting. +Thou, in the truth by trial trained, +Best knowledge of the right hast gained: +And layest, just and pure within, +The meetest penalty on sin. +Through every bond of law I burst, +The boldest sinner and the worst. +O let thy right-instructing speech +Console my heart and wisely teach." + + Like some sad elephant who stands +Fast sinking in the treacherous sands, +Thus Báli raised despairing eyes; +Then spake again with sobs and sighs: + + "Not for myself, O King, I grieve, +For Tárá or the friends I leave, +As for sweet Angad, my dear son, +My noble, only little one. +For, nursed in luxury and bliss, +His father he will mourn and miss, +And like a stream whose fount is dry +Will waste away and sink and die,-- +My own dear child, my only boy, +His mother Tárá's hope and joy. +Spare him, O son of Raghu, spare +The child entrusted to thy care. +My Angad and Sugríva treat +E'en as thy heart considers meet, +For thou, O chief of men, art strong +To guard the right and punish wrong. +O, if thou wilt thine ear incline +To hear these dying words of mine, +He and Sugríva will to thee +As Bharat and as Lakshman be. +Let not my Tárá, left forlorn, +Weep for Sugríva's wrathful scorn; +Nor let him, for her lord's offence, +Condemn her faithful innocence. +And well and wisely may he reign +If thy dear grace his power sustain: +If, following thee his friend and guide, +He turn not from thy hest aside: +Thus may he reign with glory, nay +Thus to the skies will win his way. +Though stayed by Tárá's fond recall, +By thy dear hand I longed to fall. +Against my brother rushed and fought, +And gained the death I long have sought." + + Then Ráma thus the prince consoled +From whose clear eyes the mists were rolled: +"Grieve not for those thou leavest thus, +Nor tremble for thyself or us, +For we will deal with thine and thee +As duty and the laws decree. +He who exacts and he who pays, +Is justly slain or justly slays, +Shall in the life to come have bliss; +For each has done his task in this. +Thou, wandering from the right, art made +Pure by the forfeit thou hast paid. +Thy weight of sins is cast aside, +And duty's claim is satisfied. +Then grieve no more, O Prince, but clear +Thy bosom from all doubt and fear, +For fate, inexorably stern, +Thou hast no power to move or turn. +Thy princely Angad still will share +My tender love, Sugríva's care; +And to thy offspring shall be shown +Affection that shall match thine own." + + + + +Canto XIX. Tárá's Grief. + + +No answer gave the Vánar king +To Ráma's prudent counselling. +Battered and bruised by tree and stone, +By Ráma's arrow overthrown, +Fainting upon the ground he lay, +Gasping his troubled life away. + + But Tárá in the Vánar's hall +Heard tidings of her husband's fall; +Heard that a shaft from Ráma's bow +Had laid the royal Báli low. +Her darling Angad by her side, +Distracted from her home she hied. +Then nigh the place of battle drew +The Vánars, Angad's retinue. +They saw the bow-armed Ráma: dread +Fell on them, and they turned and fled. +Like helpless deer, their leaders slain, +So wildly fled the startled train. +But Tárá saw, and nearer pressed, +And thus the flying band addressed: +"O Vánars, ye who ever stand +About our king, a trusty band, +Where is the lion master? why +Forsake ye thus your lord and fly? +Say, lies he dead upon the plain, +A brother by a brother slain, +Or pierced by shafts from Ráma's bow +That rain from far upon the foe?" + + Thus Tárá questioned, and was still: +Then, wearers of each shape at will, +The Vánars thus with one accord +Answered the Lady of their lord: +"Turn, Tárá turn, and half undone +Save Angad thy beloved son. +There Ráma stands in death's disguise, +And conquered Báli faints and dies. +He by whose strong arm, thick and fast, +Uprooted trees and rocks were cast, +Lies smitten by a shaft that came +Resistless as the lightning flame. +When he, whose splendour once could vie +With Indra's, regent of the sky, +Fell by that deadly arrow, all +The Vánars fled who marked his fall. +Let all our chiefs their succours bring, +And Angad be anointed king; +For all who come of Vánar race +Will serve him set in Báli's place. +Or else our conquering foes to-day +Within our wall will force their way, +Polluting with their hostile feet +The chambers of thy loved retreat. +Great fear is on us, all and one. +Those who have wives and who have none, +They lust for power, are fierce and bold, +Or hate us for the strife of old." + + She heard their speech as, sore afraid, +Arrested in their flight, they stayed, +And gave her answer as became +The spirit of so true a dame: +"Nay, what have I to do with pelf, +With son, with kingdom, or with self, +When he, my noble lord, who leads +The Vánars like a lion, bleeds? +His high-souled victor will I meet, +And throw me prostrate at his feet." + + She hastened forth, her bosom rent +With anguish, weeping as she went, +And striking, mastered by her woes, +Her head and breast with frantic blows. +She hurried to the field and found +Her husband prostrate on the ground, +Who quelled the hostile Vánars' might, +Whose bank was never turned in flight: +Whose arm a massy rock could throw +As Indra hurls his bolts below: +Fierce as the rushing tempest, loud +As thunder from a labouring cloud: +Whene'er he roared his voice of fear +Struck terror on the boldest ear: +Now slain, as, hungry for the prey, +A tiger might a lion slay: +Or when, his serpent foe to seek, +Suparna(600) with his furious beak +Tears up a sacred hillock, long +The reverence of a village throng, +Its altar with their offerings spread, +And the gay flag that waved o'erhead. +She looked and saw the victor stand +Resting upon his bow his hand: +And fierce Sugríva she descried, +And Lakshman by his brother's side. +She passed them by, nor stayed to view, +Swift to her husband's side she flew; +Then as she looked, her strength gave way, +And in the dust she fell and lay. +Then, as if startled ere the close +Of slumber, from the earth she rose. +Upon her dying husband, round +Whose soul the coils of Death were wound, +Her eyes in agony she bent +And called him with a shrill lament. +Sugríva, when he heard her cries, +And saw the queen with weeping eyes, +And youthful Angad standing there, +His load of grief could hardly bear. + + + + +Canto XX. Tárá's Lament. + + +Again she bent her to the ground, +Her arms about her husband wound. +Sobbed on his breast, and sick and faint +With anguish poured her wild complaint: +"Brave in the charge of battle, boast +And glory of the Vánar host, +Why on the cold earth wilt thou lie +And give no answer when I cry? +Up, warrior, from thy lowly bed! +A meeter couch for thee is spread. +It ill beseems a glorious king +On the bare ground his limbs to fling. +Ah, surely must thy love be strong +For her whom thou hast governed long, +If thou, my hero, canst recline +On her cold breast forsaking mine. +Or, famed for justice through the land, +Thou on the road to heaven hast planned +Some city fairer far than this +To be thy new metropolis. +Are all our pleasures ended now, +With those delicious hours which thou +And I, dear lord, together spent +In woods that breathed the honey's scent? +Whelmed in my sorrow's boundless sea, +There is no joy, no hope, for me, +When my beloved lord, who led +The Vánars to the fight, is dead, +My widowed heart is stern and cold. +Or, at the sight mine eyes behold, +O'ermastered would it end this ache +And in a thousand fragments break. +Ah noble Vánar, doomed to pay +The penalty of all today-- +Sugríva from his home expelled, +And Rumá(601) from his arms withheld. +Our Vánar race and thee to save, +Wise counsel for thy weal I gave; +But thou, by wildest folly stirred, +Wouldst give no credence to my word, +And now wilt woo the nymphs above, +And shake their souls with pangs of love. +Ah, never could it be that thou +Beneath Sugríva's power shouldst bow, +Thy conqueror is none but Fate +Whose mandates all who breathe await. +And does no thrill of anguish run +Through the stern breast of Raghu's son, +Whose base hand dealt a coward's blow, +And smote thee fighting with thy foe? +Reft of my lord my days, alas! +In bitter bitter woe will pass: +And I, long blest with every good, +Must bear my dreary widowhood. +And when his uncle's brow is stern, +When his fierce eyes with fury burn, +Ah, what will be my Angad's fate, +So fair and young and delicate? +Come, darling, for the last sad sight, +Of thy dear sire who loved the right; +For soon thine eyes will long in vain +A look at that loved face to gain. +And, hero, as thy child draws near, +With tender words his spirit cheer; +Thy dying wishes gently speak, +And kiss him on the brows and cheek. +High fame, I ween, has Ráma won +By this great deed his hand has done, +His debt to brave Sugríva paid +And kept the promise that he made. +Be happy, King Sugríva, lord +Of Ramá to thine arms restored: +Enjoy uninterrupted reign, +For he, thy foe, at length is slain. +Dost thou not hear me speak, and why +Hast thou no word of soft reply? +Will thou not lift thine eyes and see +These dames who look to none but thee?" + + From their sad eyes, as Tárá spoke, +The floods of bitter sorrow broke: +Then, pressing close to Angad's side, +Each lifted up her voice and cried: + + "How couldst thou leave thine Angad thus, +And go, for ever go, from us-- +Thy child so dear in brave attire, +Graced with the virtues of his sire? +If e'er in want of thought, O chief, +One deed of mine have caused thee grief, +Forgive my folly, I entreat, +And with my head I touch thy feet." + + Again the hapless Tárá wept +As to her husband's side she crept, +And wild with sorrow and dismay +Sat on the ground where Báli lay. + + + + +Canto XXI. Hanumán's Speech. + + +There, like a fallen star, the dame +Fell by her lord's half lifeless frame; +And Hanumán drew softly near, +And strove her grieving heart to cheer: + +"By changeless law our bliss and woe +From ancient worth and folly flow. +What fruits soe'er we cull, the seeds +Were scattered by our former deeds.(602) +Why mourn another's mournful fate, +And weep, thyself unfortunate? +Be calm, O thou whose heart is wise, +For none deserves another's sighs. +Look up, with idle sorrow strive: +Thy child, his heir, is yet alive. +Let needful rites be duly done, +Nor in thy woe forget thy son. +Regard the law which all obey: +They spring to life, they pass away. +Begin the task that bids thee rise, +And stay these tears, for thou art wise. +Our lord the king is doomed to die, +On whom ten million hearts rely. +Kind, liberal, patient, true, and just +Was he in whom they place their trust, +And now he seeks the land of those +Who for the right subdue their foes. +Each Vánar lord with all his train, +Each ranger of this wild domain, +And Angad here, thy darling, see +A governor and friend in thee. +These twain(603) whose hearts with sorrow ache +The funeral rites shall undertake, +And Angad by his mother's care +Be king, his father's rightful heir. +Now let him pay, as laws require, +His sacred duty to his sire, +Nor one solemnity omit +Of all that mighty kings befit. +And when thy fond eye sees thine own +Dear Angad on his father's throne, +Then, lightened of its load of pain, +Thy spirit will have rest again." + + She heard his speech, she heaved her head, +Looked upon Hanumán and said: + + "Sweeter my slain lord's limbs to touch, +Than Angad or a hundred such. +No rule or right, a widowed dame, +O'er Angad or the realm I claim. +Sugríva is the uncle, he +In every act supreme must be. +I pray thee, chief, this plan resign, +Nor claim from me what ne'er is mine. +The father with his tender care +Guards the dear child the mother bare, +Where'er I be, no sweeter task, +No happier joy I hope or ask +Than thus to sit with loving eyes +And watch the bed where Báli lies. + + + + +Canto XXII. Báli Dead. + + +There breathing still with slow faint sighs +Lay Báli on the ground: his eyes, +Damp with the tears of death, he raised, +On conquering Sugríva gazed, +And then in clearest speech expressed +The tender feelings of his breast: +"Not to my charge, Sugríva, lay +Thine injuries avenged to-day; +But rather blame resistless Fate +That urged me on infuriate. +Fate ne'er agreed our lives to bless +With simultaneous happiness: +To dwell like brothers side by side +In tender love was still denied. +The Vánars' realm is thine to-day: +Begin, O King, thy rightful sway;(604) +For I must go at Yáma's call +To sojourn in his gloomy hall; +Must part and leave this very hour +My life, my realm, my kingly power, +And go instead of these to gain +Bright glory free from spot and stain. +Now at thy hands one boon I seek +With the last words my lips shall speak, +And, though it be no easy thing, +Perform the task I give thee, King. +This son of mine, no foolish boy, +Worthy of bliss and nursed in joy,-- +See, prostrate on the ground he lies, +The hot tears welling from his eyes-- +The child I love so well, more sweet +Than life itself, for woe unmeet,-- +To him be kindly favour shown: +O guard and keep him as thine own. +Retain him ever by thy side, +His father, helper, friend, and guide. +From fear and woe his young life save, +And give him all his father gave. +Then Tárá's son in time shall be +Brave, resolute, and famed like thee, +And march before thee to the fight +Where stricken fiends shall own his might. +While yet a tender stripling, fame +Shall bruit abroad his warrior name, +And brightly shall his glory shine +For exploits worthy of his line. +Child of Sushen,(605) my Tárá well +Obscurest lore can read and tell; +And, trained in wondrous art, divines +Each mystery of boding signs. +Her solemn warning ne'er despise, +Do boldly what her lips advise; +For things to come her eye can see, +And with her words events agree. +And for the son of Raghu's sake +The toil and danger undertake: +For breach of faith were grievous wrong, +Nor wouldst thou be unpunished long. +Now, brother, take this chain of gold, +Gift of celestial hands of old, +Or when I die its charm will flee, +And all its might be lost with me." + + The loving speech Sugríva heard, +And all his heart with woe was stirred. +Remorse and gentle pity stole +Each thought of triumph from his soul: +Thus fades the light when Ráhu(606) mars +The glory of the Lord of Stars.(607) +All angry thoughts were stayed and stilled +And kindly love his bosom filled. +His brother's word the chief obeyed +And took the chain as Báli prayed. +On little Angad standing nigh +The dying hero fixed his eye, +And, ready from this world to part, +Spoke the fond utterance of his heart: + + "Let time and place thy thoughts employ: +In woe be strong, be meek in joy. +Accept both pain and pleasure, still +Obedient to Sugríva's will. +Thou hast, my darling, from the first +With tender care been softly nursed; +But harder days, if thou wouldst win +Sugríva's love, must now begin. +To those who hate him ne'er incline, +Nor count his foe a friend of thine. +In all thy thoughts his welfare seek, +Obedient, lowly, faithful, meek. +Let no rash suit his bosom pain, +Nor yet from due requests abstain.(608) +Each is a grievous fault, between +The two is found the happy mean." + + Then Báli ceased: his eyeballs rolled +In stress of anguish uncontrolled +His massive teeth were bared to view, +And from the frame the spirit flew. +Their lord and leader dead, the crowd +Of noblest Vánars shrieked aloud: +"Since thou, O King, hast sought the skies +All desolate Kishkindhá lies. +Her woods, where Vánars loved to rove, +Are empty now, and hill and grove. +From every eye the light is fled, +Since thou, our mighty lord, art dead. +Thine was the unwearied arm that bore +The brunt of deadly fight of yore +With Golabh the Gandharva, when, +Lasting through five long years and ten, +The dreadful conflict knew no stay +In gloom of night, in glare of day; +And when the fifteenth year had past +Thy dire opponent fell at last. +If such a foeman fell beneath +Our hero's arm and awful teeth +Who freed us from our terror, how +Is conquering Báli fallen now?" + + Then when they saw their leader slain +Great anguish seized the Vánar train, +Weeping their mighty chief, as when +In pastures near a lion's den +The cows by sudden fear are stirred, +Slain the bold bull who led the herd. +And hapless Tárá sank below +The whelming waters of her woe, +Looked upon Báli's face and fell +Beside him whom she loved go well, +Like a young creeper clinging round +A tall tree prostrate on the ground. + + + + +Canto XXIII. Tárá's Lament. + + +She kissed her lifeless husband's face, +She clasped him in a close embrace, +Laid her soft lips upon his head; +Then words like these the mourner said: + + "No words of mine wouldst thou regard, +And now thy bed is cold and hard. +Upon the rude rough ground o'erthrown, +Beneath thee naught but sand and stone. +To thee the earth is dearer far +Than I and my caresses are, +If thou upon her breast wilt lie, +And to my words make no reply. +Ah my beloved, good and brave, +Bold to attack and strong to save, +Fate is Sugríva's thrall, and we +In him our lord and master see. +Lo, by thy bed, a mournful band, +Thy Vánar chiefs lamenting stand. +O hear thy nobles' groans and cries, +O mark thy Angad's weeping eyes, +O list to my entreaties, break +The chains of slumber and awake. +Ah me, my lord, this lowly bed +Where rest thy limbs and fallen head, +Is the cold couch where smitten lay +Thy foemen in the bloody fray. +O noble heart from blemish free, +Lover of war, beloved by me. +Why hast thou fled away and left +Thy Tárá of all hope bereft? +Unwise the father who allows +His child to be a warrior's spouse, +For, hero, see thy consort's fate, +A widow now most desolate, +For ever broken is my pride, +My hope of lasting bliss has died, +And sinking in the lowest deep +Of sorrow's sea I pine and weep. +Ah, surely not of earthly mould, +This stony heart is stern and cold, +Or, in a hundred pieces rent, +It had not lingered to lament. +Dead, dead! my husband, friend, and lord +In whom my loving hopes were stored, +First in the field, his foemen's dread, +My own victorious Báli, dead! +A woman when her lord has died, +Though children flourish by her side, +Though stores of gold her coffers fill, +Is called a lonely widow still. +Alas, thy bleeding gashes make +Around thy limbs a purple lake: +Thus slumbering was thy wont to lie +On cushions bright with crimson dye. +Dark streams of welling blood besmear +Thy limbs where dust and mire adhere, +Nor have I strength, weighed down by woe, +Mine arms about thy form to throw. +The issue of this day has brought +Sugríva all his wishes sought, +For Ráma shot one shaft and he +Is freed from fear and jeopardy. +Alas, alas, I may not rest +My head upon thy wounded breast, +Obstructed by the massive dart +Deep buried in thy bleeding heart." + + Then Níla from his bosom drew +The fatal shaft that pierced him through, +Like some tremendous serpent deep +In caverns of a hill asleep. +As from the hero's wound it came, +Shot from the shaft a gleam of flame, +Like the last flashes of the sun +Descending when his course is run. +From the wide rent in crimson flood +Rushed the full stream of Báli's blood, +Like torrents down a mountain's side +With golden ore and copper dyed. +Then Tárá brushed with tender care +The dust of battle from his hair, +While her sad eyes poured down their rain +Upon her lord untimely slain. +Once more she looked upon the dead; +Then to her bright-eyed child she said: +"Turn hither, turn thy weeping eyes +Where low in death thy father lies. +By sinful deed and bitter hate +Our lord has met his mournful fate. +Bright as the sun at early morn +To Yáma's halls is Báli borne. +Then go, my child, salute the king, +From whom our bliss and honour spring." + + Obedient to his mother's hest +His father's feet he gently pressed +With twining arms and lingering hands: +"Father," he cried, "here Angad stands." + + Then Tárá: "Art thou stern and mute, +Regardless of thy child's salute? +Hast thou no blessing for thy son, +No word for little Angad, none? +O, hero, at thy lifeless feet +Here with my boy I take my seat, +As some sad mother of the herd, +By the fierce lion undeterred, +Lies moaning by the grassy dell +Wherein her lord and leader fell. +How, having wrought that awful rite, +The sacrifice of deadly fight, +Wherein the shaft by Ráma sped +Supplied the place of water shed, +How hast thou bathed thee at the end +Without thy wife her aid to lend?(609) +Why do mine eyes no more behold +Thy bright beloved chain of gold, +Which, pleased with thee, the Immortals' King +About thy neck vouchsafed to fling? +Still lingering on thy lifeless face +I see the pride of royal race: +Thus when the sun has set, his glow +Still rests upon the Lord of Snow. +Alas my hero! undeterred +Thou wouldst not listen to my word. +With tears and prayers I sued in vain: +Thou wouldst not listen, and art slain. +Gone is my bliss, my glory: I +And Angad now with thee will die." + + + + +Canto XXIV. Sugríva's Lament. + + +But when Sugríva saw her weep +O'erwhelmed in sorrow's rushing deep, +Swift through his bosom pierced the sting +Of anguish for the fallen king. +At the sad sight his eyes beheld +A flood of bitter tears outwelled, +And, with his bosom racked and rent, +To Ráma with his train he went. +He came with faltering steps and slow +Where Ráma held his mighty bow +And arrow like a venomed snake, +And to the son of Raghu spake: +"Well hast thou kept, O King, thy vow: +The promised fruit is gathered now. +But life is marred, my soul to-day +Turns sickening from all joy away. +For, while this queen laments and sighs +Amid a mourning people's cries, +And Angad weeps his father slain, +How can my heart delight to reign? +For outrage, fury, senseless pride, +My brother, doomed of yore, has died. +Yet, Raghu's son, in bitter woe +I mourn his fated overthrow. +Ah, better far in pain and ill +To dwell on Rishyamúka still +Than gain the heaven of Gods and all +Its pleasures by my brother's fall. +Did not he cry,--great-hearted foe,-- +"Go, for I will not slay thee, Go"? +With his brave soul those words agree: +My speech, my deeds, are worthy me. +How can a brother counterweigh +His grievous loss with joys of sway, +And see with dull unpitying eye +So brave and good a brother die? +His lofty soul was nobly blind: +My death alas, he ne'er designed; +But I, urged blindly on by hate, +Sought with his life my rage to sate. +He smote me with a splintered tree: +I groaned aloud and turned to flee, +From stern reproaches he forbore, +And gently bade me sin no more. +Serene and dutiful and good +He kept the laws of brotherhood: +I, fierce and greedy, vengeful, base, +Showed all the vices of our race. +Ah me, dear friend, my brother's fate +Lays on my soul a crushing weight: +A sin no heart should e'er conceive, +But at the thought each soul should grieve: +Sin such as Indra's when his blow +Laid heavenly Visvarúpa(610) low. +Yet earth, the waters of the seas, +The race of women and the trees +Were fain upon themselves to take +The weight of sin for Indra's sake. +But who a Vánar's soul will free, +Or ease the load that crushes me? +Wretch that I am, I may not claim +The reverence due to royal name. +How shall I reign supreme, or dare +Affect the power I should not share? +Ah me, I sorrow for my sin, +The ruin of my race and kin, +Polluted by a hideous crime +World-hated till the end of time. +Alas, the floods of sorrow roll +With whelming force upon my soul: +So gathers the descending rain +In the deep hollow of the plain." + + + + +Canto XXV. Ráma's Speech. + + +Then Raghu's son, whose feeling breast +Shared the great woe that moved the rest, +Strove with wise charm their grief to ease +And gently spoke in words like these: + + "You ne'er can raise the dead to bliss +By agony of grief like this. +Cease your lament, nor leave undone +The funeral task you may not shun. +As nature orders o'er the dead. +Your tributary tears are shed, +But Fate, directing each event, +Is still the lord preëminent. +Yes, all obey the changeless laws +Of Fate the universal cause. +By Fate, the lives of all proceed, +That governs every word and deed, +None acts, none sees his hest obeyed, +But each and all by Fate are swayed. +The world its ordered course maintains, +And o'er that course Fate ever reigns. +Fate ne'er exceeds the rule of Fate: +Is ne'er too swift, is ne'er too late, +And making nature its ally +Forgets no life, nor passes by. +No kith and kin, no power and force +Can check or stay its settled course, +No friend or client, grace or charm, +That victor of the world disarm. +So all who see with prudent eyes +The hand of Fate must recognize, +For virtue rules, or love, or gain, +As Fate's unchanged decrees ordain. +Báli has died and won the meed +That waits in heaven on noble deed, +Throned in the seats the brave may reach +By liberal hand and gentle speech, +True to a warrior's duty, bold +In fight, the hero lofty-souled +Deigned not to guard his life: he died, +And now in heaven is glorified. +Then cease these tears and wild despair: +Turn to the task that claims your care, +For Báli's is the glorious fate +Which warriors count most fortunate." + + When Ráma's speech had found a close, +Brave Lakshman, terror of his foes, +With wise and soothing words addressed +Sugríva still with woe oppressed: +"Arise Sugríva," thus he said, +"Perform the service of the dead. +Prepare with Tárá and her son +That Báli's rites be duly done. +A store of funeral wood provide +Which wind and sun and time have dried +And richest sandal fit to grace +The pyre of one of royal race. +With words of comfort soft and kind +Console poor Angad's troubled mind, +Nor let thy heart be thus cast down, +For thine is now the Vánars' town. +Let Angad's care a wreath supply, +And raiment rich with varied dye, +And oil and perfumes for the fire, +And all the solemn rites require. +Go, hasten to the town, O King, +And Tárá's little quickly bring. +A virtue is despatch: and speed +Is best of all in hour of need. +Go, let a chosen band prepare +The litter of the dead to bear. +For stout and tall and strong of limb +Must be the chiefs who carry him." + + He spoke,--his friends' delight and pride,-- +Then stood again by Ráma's side. +When Tára(611) heard the words he said +Within the town he quickly sped, +And brought, on stalwart shoulders laid, +The litter for the rites arrayed, +Framed like a car for Gods, complete +With painted sides and royal seat, +With latticed windows deftly made, +And golden birds and trees inlaid: +Well joined and wrought in every part, +A marvel of ingenious art. +Where pleasure mounds in carven wood +And many a graven figure stood. +The best of jewels o'er it hung, +And wreaths of flowers around it clung, +And over all was raised on high +A canopy of saffron dye, +While like the sun of morning shone +The brilliant blooms that lay thereon. +That glorious litter Ráma eyed. +And spake to Lakshman by his side: +"Let Báli on the bier be placed +And with all funeral service graced." +Sugríva then with many a tear +Drew Báli's body to the bier +Whereon, with weeping Angad's aid, +The relics of the chief were laid +Neath many a vesture's varied fold, +And wreaths and ornaments and gold. +Then King Sugríva bade them speed +The obsequies by law decreed: +"Let Vánars lead the way and throw +Rich gems around them as they go, +And be the chosen bearers near +Behind them laden with the bier. +No costly rite may you deny, +Used when the proudest monarchs die: +As for a king of widest sway. +Perform his obsequies to-day." +Sugríva gave his high behest; +Then Princely Tára and the rest, +With little Angad weeping, led +The long procession of the dead. +Behind the funeral litter came, +With Tárá first, each widowed dame, +In tears and shrieks her loss deplored, +Add cried aloud, My lord! My lord! +While wood and hill and valley sent +In echoes back the shrill lament. +Then on a low and sandy isle +Was reared the hero's funeral pile +By crowds of toiling Vánars, where +The mountain stream ran fresh and fair, +The Vánar chiefs, a noble band, +Had laid the litter on the sand, +And stood a little space apart, +Each mourning in his inmost heart. +But Tárá, when her weeping eye +Saw Báli, on the litter lie, +Laid his dear head upon her lap, +And wailed aloud her dire mishap; +"O mighty Vánar, lord and king, +To whose fond breast I loved to cling, +Of goodly arms, wise, brave, and bold, +Rise, look upon me as of old. +Rise up, my sovereign, dost thou see +A crowd of subjects weep for thee? +Still o'er thy face, though breath has fled, +The joyous light of life is spread: +Thus around the sun, although he set, +A crimson glory lingers yet. +Death clad in Ráma's form to-day +Hast dragged thee from the world away. +One shaft from his tremendous bow +Dooms us to widowhood and woe. +Hast thou, O Vánar King, no eyes +Thy weeping wives to recognize, +Who for the length of way unmeet +Have followed thee with weary feet? +Yet every moon-faced beauty here +By thee, O King was counted dear. +Lord of the Vánar race, hast thou +No eyes to see Sugríva now? +About thee stands in mournful mood +A sore-afflicted multitude, +And Tára and thy lords of state +Around their monarch weep and wait. +Arise my lord, with gentle speech, +As was thy wont, dismissing each, +Then in the forest will we play +And love shall make our spirits gay." + + The Vánar dames raised Tárá, drowned +In floods of sorrow, from the ground; +And Angad with Sugríva's aid, +O'erwhelmed with anguish and dismayed, +Weeping for his departed sire, +Placed Báli's body on the pyre: +Then lit the flame, and round the dead +Passed slowly with a mourner's tread. +Thus with full rites the funeral train +Performed the service for the slain, +Then sought the flowing stream and made +Libations to the parted shade. +There, setting Angad first in place, +The chieftains of the Vánar race, +With Tárá and Sugríva, shed +The water that delights the dead. + + + + +Canto XXVI. The Coronation. + + +Each Vánar councillor and peer +In crowded numbers gathered near +Sugríva, mournful king, while yet +His vesture from the wave was wet, +Before the chief of Raghu's seed +Unwearied in each arduous deed, +They stood and raised the reverent hand +As saints before Lord Brahmá stand. +Then Hanumán of massive mould, +Like some tall hill of glistering gold, +Son of the God whose wild blasts shake +The forest, thus to Ráma spake: +"By thy kind favour, O my lord, +Sugríva, to his home restored +Triumphant, has regained to-day +His rank and power and royal sway. +He now will call each faithful friend, +Enter the city, and attend +With sage advice and prudent care +To every task that waits him there. +Then balm and unguent shall anoint +Our monarch, as the laws appoint, +And gems and precious wreaths shall be +His grateful offering, King, to thee. +Do thou, O Ráma, with thy friend +Thy steps within the city bend; +Our ruler on his throne install, +And with thy presence cheer us all." + + Then, skilled in lore and arts that guide +The speaker, Raghu's son replied: +"For fourteen years I might not break +The mandate that my father spake; +Nor can I, till that time be fled, +The street of town or village tread. +Let King Sugríva seek the town +Most worthy of her high renown, +There let him be without delay +Anointed, and begin his sway." + + This answered, to Sugríva then +Thus spake anew the king of men: +"Do thou who knowest right ordain +Prince Angad consort of thy reign; +For he is noble, true, and bold, +And trained a righteous course to hold +Gifts like his sire's that youth adorn +Born eldest to the eldest born. +This is the month of Srávan,(612) first +Of those that see the rain-clouds burst. +Four months, thou knowest well, extends +The season when the rain descends. +No time for deeds of war is this: +Seek thou thy fair metropolis, +And I with Lakshman, O my friend, +The time upon this hill will spend. +An ample cavern opens there +Made lovely by the mountain air, +And lotuses and lilies fill +The pleasant lake and murmuring rill. +When Kártik's(613) month shall clear the skies, +Then tempt the mighty enterprise. +Now, chieftain to thy home repair, +And be anointed sovereign there." + + Sugríva heard: he bowed his head: +Within the lovely town he sped +Which Báli's royal will had swayed, +Where thousand Vánar chiefs arrayed +Gathered in order round their king, +And led him on with welcoming. +Low on the earth the lesser crowd +Fell in prostration as they bowed. +Sugríva looked with grateful eyes, +Spake to them all and bade them rise. +Then through the royal bowers he strode +Wherein the monarch's wives abode. +Soon from the inner chambers came +The Vánar of exalted fame; +And joyful friends drew near and shed +King-making balm upon his head, +Like Gods anointing in the skies +Their sovereign of the thousand eyes.(614) +Then brought they, o'er their king to hold +The white umbrella decked with gold, +And chouries with their waving hair +In golden handles wondrous fair; +And fragrant herbs and seed and spice, +And sparkling gems exceeding price, +And every bloom from woods and leas, +And gum distilled from milky trees; +And precious ointment white as milk, +And spotless robes of cloth and silk, +Wreaths of sweet flowers whose glories gleam +In grassy grove, on lake or stream. +And fragrant sandal and each scent +That makes the soft breeze redolent; +Grain, honey, odorous seed, and store +Of oil and curd and golden ore; +A noble tiger's skin, a pair +Of sandals wrought with costliest care, +Eight pairs of damsels drawing nigh +Brought unguents stained with varied dye. +Then gems and cates and robes displayed +Before the twice-born priests were laid, +That they would deign in order due +To consecrate the king anew. +The sacred grass was duly spread +And sacrificial flame was fed, +Which Scripture-learned priests supplied +With oil which texts had sanctified. +Then, with all rites ordained of old, +High on the terrace bright with gold, +Whereon a glorious carpet lay, +And fresh-culled garlands sweet and gay, +Placed on his throne, Sugríva bent +His looks toward the Orient. +In horns from forehead of the bull, +In pitchers bright and beautiful, +In urns of gold the Vánara took +Pure water brought from stream and brook, +From every consecrated strand +And every sea that beats the land. +Then, as prescribed by sacred lore +And many a mighty sage of yore,(615) +The leaders of the Vánars poured +The sacred water on their lord.(616) +From every Vánar at the close +Of that imperial rite arose +Shouts of glad triumph, loud and long +Repeated by the high-souled throng. +Sugríva, when the rite was done, +Obeyed the hest of Raghu's son, +Prince Angad to his breast he strained, +And partner of his sway ordained. +Once more from all the host rang out +The loud huzza and jovful shout. +"Well done! well done!" each Vánar cried, +And good Sugríva glorified. +Then with glad voices loudly raised +Were Ráma and his brother praised; +And bright Kishkindhá shone that day +With happy throngs and banners gay. + + + + +Canto XXVII. Ráma On The Hill. + + +But when the solemn rite was o'er, +And bold Sugríva reigned once more, +The sons of Raghu sought the hill, +Prasravan of the rushing rill, +Where roamed the tiger and the deer, +And lions raised their voice of fear; +Thick set with trees of every kind, +With trailing shrubs and plants entwined; +Home of the ape and monkey, lair +Of mountain cat and pard and bear. +In cloudy gloom against the sky +The sanctifying hills rose high. +Pierced in their crest, a spacious cave +To Raghu's sons a shelter gave. +Then Ráma, pure from every crime, +In words well suited to the time +To Lakshman spake, whose faithful zeal +Watched humbly for his brother's weal: +"I love this spacious cavern where +There breathes a fresh and pleasant air. +Brave brother, let us here remain +Throughout the season of the rain. +For in mine eyes this mountain crest +Is above all, the loveliest. +Where copper-hued and black and white +Show the huge blocks that face the height; +Where gleams the shine of varied ore, +Where dark clouds hang and torrents roar; +Where waving woods are fair to see, +And creepers climb from tree to tree; +Where the gay peacock's voice is shrill, +And sweet birds carol on the hill; +Where odorous breath is wafted far +From Jessamine and Sinduvár;(617) +And opening flowers of every hue +Give wondrous beauty to the view. +See, too, this pleasant water near +Our cavern home is fresh and clear; +And lilies gay with flower and bud +Are glorious on the lovely flood. +This cave that fares north and east +Will shelter us till rain has ceased; +And towering hills that rise behind +Will screen us from the furious wind. +Close by the cavern's portal lies +And level stone of ample size +And sable hue, a mighty block +Long severed from the parent rock. +Now let thine eye bent northward rest +A while upon that mountain crest, +High as a cloud that brings the rain, +And dark as iron rent in twain. +Look southward, brother, now and view +A cloudy pile of paler hue +Like Mount Kailása's topmost height +Where ores of every tint are bright. +See, Lakshman, see before our cave +That clear brook eastward roll its wave +As though 'twere Gangá's infant rill +Down streaming from the three-peaked hill. +See, by the water's gentle flow +Asoka, sál, and sandal grow. +And every lovely tree most fair +With leaf and bud and flower is there. +See there, beneath the bending trees +That fringe her bank, the river flees, +Clothed with their beauty like a maid +In all her robes and gems arrayed, +While from the sedgy banks are heard +The soft notes of each amorous bird. +O see what lovely islets stud +Like gems the bosom of the flood, +And sárases and wild swans crowd +About her till she laughs aloud. +See, lotus blooms the brook o'erspread, +Some tender blue, some dazzling red, +And opening lilies white as snow +Their buds in rich profusion show. +There rings the joyous peacock's scream, +There stands the curlew by the stream, +And holy hermits love to throng +Where the sweet waters speed along. +Ranged on the grassy margin shine +Gay sandal trees in glittering line, +And all the wondrous verdure seems +The offspring of creative dreams. +O conquering Prince, there cannot be +A lovelier place than this we see. +Here sheltered on the beauteous height +Our days will pass in calm delight. +Nor is Kishkindhá's city, gay +With grove and garden, far away. +Thence will the breeze of evening bring +Sweet music as the minstrels sing; +And, when the Vánars dance, will come +The sound of tabour and of drum. +Again to spouse and realm restored, +Girt by his friends, the Vánar lord +Great glory has acquired; and how +Can he be less than happy now?" + + This said, the son of Raghu made +His dwelling in that pleasant shade +Upon the mountain's shelving side +That sweetly all his wants supplied. +But still the hero's troubled mind +No comfort in his woe could find, +Yet mourning for his stolen wife +Dearer to Ráma than his life, +Chief when he saw the Lord of Night +Rise slowly o'er the eastern height, +He tossed upon his leafy bed +With eyes by sleep unvisited. +Outwelled the tears in ceaseless flow, +And every sense was numbed by woe. +Each pang that pierced the mourner through +Smote Lakshman's faithful bosom too, +Who, troubled for his brother's sake, +With wisest words the prince bespake: +"Arise, my brother, and be strong: +Thy hero heart has mourned too long. +Thou knowest well that tears and sighs +Will mar the mightiest enterprise. +Thine was the soul that loved to dare: +To serve the Gods was still thy care; +And ne'er may sorrow's sting subdue +A heart so resolute and true. +How canst thou hope to slay in fight +The giant cruel in his might? +Unwearied must the champion be +Who strives with such a foe as he. +Tear out this sorrow by the root; +Again be bold and resolute. +Arise, my brother, and subdue +The demon and his wicked crew. +Thou canst destroy the earth, her seas, +Her rooted hills and giant trees +Unseated by thy furious hand: +And shall one fiend thy power withstand? +Wait through this season of the rain +Till suns of autumn dry the plain, +Then shall thy giant foe, and all +His host and realm, before thee fall. +I wake thy valour that has slept +Amid the tears thine eyes have wept; +As drops of oil in worship raise +The dormant flame to sudden blaze." + + The son of Raghu heard: he knew +His brother's rede was wise and true; +And, honouring his friendly guide, +In gentle words he thus replied: +"Whate'er a hero firm and bold, +Devoted, true, and lofty-souled +Should speak by deep affection led, +Such are the words which thou hast said. +I cast away each pensive thought +That brings the noblest plans to naught, +And each uninjured power will strain +Until the purposed end we gain. +Thy prudent words will I obey, +And till the close of rain-time stay, +When King Sugríva will invite +To action, and the streams be bright. +The hero saved in hour of need +Repays the debt with friendly deed: +But hated by the good are they +Who take the boon and ne'er repay." + + + + +Canto XXVIII. The Rains. + + +"See, brother, see" thus Ráma cried +On Mályavat's(618) dark-wooded side, +"A chain of clouds, like lofty hills, +The sky with gathering shadow fills. +Nine months those clouds have borne the load +Conceived from sunbeams as they glowed, +And, having drunk the seas, give birth, +And drop their offspring on the earth. +Easy it seems at such a time +That flight of cloudy stairs to climb, +And, from their summit, safely won, +Hang flowery wreaths about the sun. +See how the flash of evening's red +Fringes the fleecy clouds o'erhead +Till all the sky is streaked and lined +With bleeding wounds incarnadined, +Or the wide firmament above +Shows like a lover sick with love +And, pale with cloudlets, heaves a sigh +In the soft breeze that wanders by. +See, by the fervent heat embrowned, +How drenched with recent showers, the ground +Pours out in floods her gushing tears, +Like Sítá wild with torturing fears. +So softly blows this cloud-born breeze +Cool through the boughs of camphor trees +That one might hold it in the cup +Of hollowed hands and drink it up. +See, brother, where that rocky steep, +Where odorous shrubs in rain-drops weep, +Shows like Sugríva when they shed +Tne royal balm upon his head. +Like students at their task appear +These hills whose misty peaks are near: +Black deerskin(619) garments wrought of cloud +Their forms with fitting mantles shroud, +Each torrent from the summit poured +Supplies the place of sacred cord.(620) +And winds that in their caverns moan +Sound like the voice's undertone.(621) +From east to west red lightnings flash, +And, quivering neath the golden lash, +The great sky like a generous steed +Groans inly at each call to speed. +Yon lightning, as it flashes through +The giant cloud of sable hue, +Recalls my votaress Sítá pressed +Mid struggles to the demon's breast. +See, on those mountain ridges stand +Sweet shrubs that bud and bloom expand. +The soft rain ends their pangs of grief, +And drops its pearls on flower and leaf. +But all their raptures stab me through +And wake my pining love anew.(622) +Now through the air no wild bird flies, +Each lily shuts her weary eyes; +And blooms of opening jasmin show +The parting sun has ceased to glow. +No captain now for conquest burns, +But homeward with his host returns; +For roads and kings' ambitious dreams +Have vanished neath descending streams. +This is the watery month(623) wherein +The Sámar's(624) sacred chants begin. +Áshádha(625) past, now Kosal's lord(626) +The harvest of the spring has stored,(627) +And dwells within his palace freed +From every care of pressing need. +Full is the moon, and fierce and strong +Impetuous Sarjú(628) roars along +As though Ayodhyá's crowds ran out +To greet their king with echoing shout. +In this sweet time of ease and rest +No care disturbs Sugríva's breast, +The foe that marred his peace o'erthrown, +And queen and realm once more his own. +Alas, a harder fate is mine, +Reft both of realm and queen to pine, +And, like the bank which floods erode, +I sink beneath my sorrow's load. +Sore on my soul my miseries weigh, +And these long rains our action stay, +While Rávan seems a mightier foe +Than I dare hope to overthrow. +I saw the roads were barred by rain, +I knew the hopes of war were vain; +Nor could I bid Sugríva rise, +Though prompt to aid my enterprise. +E'en now I scarce can urge my friend +On whom his house and realm depend, +Who, after toil and peril past, +Is happy with his queen at last. +Sugríva after rest will know +The hour is come to strike the blow, +Nor will his grateful soul forget +My succour, or deny the debt +I know his generous heart, and hence +Await the time with confidence +When he his friendly zeal will show, +And brooks again untroubled flow."(629) + + + + +Canto XXIX. Hanumán's Counsel. + + +No flash of lightning lit the sky, +No cloudlet marred the blue on high. +The Saras(630) missed the welcome rain, +The moon's full beams were bright again. +Sugríva, lapped in bliss, forgot +The claims of faith, or heeded not; +And by alluring joys misled +The path of falsehood learned to tread. +In careless ease he passed each hour, +And dallied in his lady's bower. +Each longing of his heart was stilled, +And every lofty hope fulfilled. +With royal Rumá by his side, +Or Tárá yet a dearer bride, +He spent each joyous day and night +In revelry and wild delight, +Like Indra whom the nymphs entice +To taste the joys of Paradise. +The power to courtiers' hands resigned, +To all their acts his eyes were blind. +All doubt, all fear he cast aside +And lived with pleasure for his guide. +But sage Hanúmán, firm and true, +Whose heart the lore of Scripture knew, +Well trained to meet occasion, trained +In all by duty's law ordained, +Strove with his prudent speech to find +Soft access to the monarch's mind. +He, skilled in every gentle art +Of eloquence that wins the heart, +Sugríva from his trance to wake, +His salutary counsel spake: + + "The realm is won, thy name advanced, +The glory of thy house enhanced, +And now thy foremost care should be +To aid the friends who succoured thee. +He who is firm and faithful found +To friendly ties in honour bound, +Will see his name and fame increase +And his blest kingdom thrive in peace. +Wide sway is his who truly boasts +That friends and treasure, self and hosts, +All blent in one harmonious whole, +Are subject to his firm control. +Do thou, whose footsteps never stray +From the clear bounds of duty's way, +Assist, as honour bids thee, now +Thy friends, observant of thy vow. +For if all cares we lay not by, +And to our friend's assistance fly, +We, after, toil in idle haste, +And all the late endeavour waste. +Up! nor the promised help delay +Until the hour have slipped away. +Up! and with Raghu's son renew +The search for Sítá lost to view. +The hour is come: he hears the call, +But not on thee reproaches fall +From him who labours to repress +His eager spirit's restlessness. +Long joined to thee in friendly ties +He made thy fame and fortune rise, +In gentle gifts by none excelled. +In splendid might unparalleled. +Up, to his succour, King! repay +The favour of that prosperous day, +And to thy bravest captains send +Prompt mandates to assist thy friend. +The cry for help thou wilt not spurn +Although no grace demands return: +And wilt thou not thine aid afford +To him who realm and life restored? +Exert thy power, and thou hast won +The love of Dasaratha's son: +And wilt thou for his summons wait, +And, till he call thee, hesitate? +Think not the hero needs thy power +To save him in the desperate hour: +He with his arrows could subdue +The Gods and all the demon crew, +And only waits that he may see +Redeemed the promise made by thee. +For thee he risked his life and fought, +For thee that great deliverance wrought. +Then let us trace through earth and skies +His lady wheresoe'er she lies. +Through realms above, beneath, we flee, +And plant our footsteps on the sea. +Then why, O Lord of Vánars, still +Delay us waiting for thy will? +Give thy commands, O King, and say +What task has each and where the way. +Before thee myriad Vánars stand +To sweep through heaven, o'er seas and land." + + Sugríva heard the timely rede +That roused him in the day of need, +And thus to Níla prompt and brave +His hest the imperial Vánar gave: +"Go, Níla, to the distant hosts +That keep in arms their several posts, +And all the armies that protect +The quarters,(631) with their chiefs, collect. +To all the luminaries placed +In intermediate regions haste, +And bid each captain rise and lead +His squadrons to their king with speed. +Do thou meanwhile with strictest care +All that the time requires prepare. +The loitering Vánar who delays +To gather here ere thrice five days, +Shall surely die for his offence, +Condemned for sinful negligence." + + + + +Canto XXX. Ráma's Lament. + + +But Ráma in the autumn night +Stood musing on the mountain height, +While grief and love that scorned control +Shook with wild storms the hero's soul. +Clear was the sky, without a cloud +The glory of the moon to shroud. +And bright with purest silver shone +Each hill the soft beams looked upon. +He knew Sugríva's heart was bent +On pleasure, gay and negligent. +He thought on Janak's child forlorn +From his fond arms for ever torn. +He mourned occasion slipping by, +And faint with anguish heaved each sigh. +He sat where many a varied streak +Of rich ore marked the mountain peak. +He raised his eyes the sky to view, +And to his love his sad thoughts flew. +He heard the Sáras cry, and faint +With sorrow poured his love-born plaint: +"She, she who mocked the softest tone +Of wild birds' voices with her own,-- +Where strays she now, my love who played +So happy in our hermit shade? +How can my absent love behold +The bright trees with their flowers of gold, +And all their gleaming glory see +With eyes that vainly look for me? +How is it with my darling when +From the deep tangles of the glen +Float carols of each bird elate +With rapture singing to his mate? +In vain my weary glances rove +From lake to hill, from stream to grove: +I find no rapture in the scene, +And languish for my fawn-eyed queen. +Ah, does strong love with wild unrest, +Born of the autumn, stir her breast? +And does the gentle lady pine +Till her bright eyes shall look in mine?" + + Thus Raghu's son in piteous tone, +O'erwhelmed with sorrow, made his moan. +E'en as the bird that drinks the rains(632) +To Indra thousand-eyed complains. +Then Lakshman who had wandered through +The copses where the berries grew, +Returning to the cavern found +His brother chief in sorrow drowned, +And pitying the woes that broke +The spirit of the hero spoke: + + "Why cast thy strength of soul away, +And weakly yield to passion's sway? +Arise, my brother, do and dare +Ere action perish in despair. +Recall the firmness of thy heart, +And nerve thee for a hero's part. +Whose is the hand unscathed to sieze +The red flame quickened by the breeze? +Where is the foe will dare to wrong +Or keep the Maithil lady long?" +Then with pale lips that sorrow dried +The son of Raghu thus replied: +"Lord Indra thousand-eyed, has sent +The sweet rain from the firmament, +Sees the rich promise of the grain, +And turns him to his rest again. +The clouds with voices loud and deep, +Veiling each tree upon the steep, +Up on the thirsty earth have shed +Their precious burden and are fled. +Now in kings' hearts ambition glows: +They rush to battle with their foes;(633) +But in Sugríva's sloth I see +No care for deeds of chivalry. +See, Lakshman, on each breezy height +A thousand autumn blooms are bright. +See how the wings of wild swans gleam +On every islet of the stream. +Four months of flood and rain are past: +A hundred years they seemed to last +To me whom toil and trouble tried, +My Sítá severed from my side. +She, gentlest woman, weak and young, +Still to her lord unwearied clung. +Still by the exile's side she stood +In the wild ways of Dandak wood, +Like a fond bird disconsolate +If parted from her darling mate. +Sugríva, lapped in soft repose, +Untouched by pity for my woes, +Scorns the poor exile, dispossessed, +By Rávan's mightier arm oppressed, +The wretch who comes to sue and pray +From his lost kingdom far away. +Hence falls on me the Vánar's scorn, +A suitor friendless and forlorn. +The time is come: with heedless eye +He sees the hour of action fly,-- +Unmindful, now his hopes succeed, +Of promise made in stress of need. +Go seek him sunk in bliss and sloth, +Forgetful of his royal oath, +And as mine envoy thus upbraid +The monarch for his help delayed: +"Vile is the wretch who will not pay +The favour of an earlier day, +Hope in the supplicant's breast awakes, +And then his plighted promise breaks. +Noblest, mid all of women born, +Who keeps the words his lips have sworn, +Yea, if those words be good or ill, +Maintains his faith unbroken still. +The thankless who forget to aid +The friend who helped them when they prayed, +Dishonoured in their death shall lie, +And dogs shall pass their corpses by. +Sure thou wouldst see my strained arm hold +My bow of battle backed with gold, +Wouldst gaze upon its awful form +Like lightning flashing through the storm, +And hear the clanging bowstring loud +As thunder from a labouring cloud." + + His valour and his strength I know: +But pleasure's sway now sinks them low, +With thee, my brother, for ally +That strength and valour I defy. +He promised, when the rains should end, +The succour of his arm to lend. +Those months are past: he dares forget, +And, lapped in pleasure, slumbers yet. +No thought disturbs his careless breast +For us impatient and distressed, +And, while we sadly wait and pine, +Girt by his lords he quaffs the wine. +Go, brother, go, his palace seek, +And boldly to Sugríva speak, +Thus give the listless king to know +What waits him if my anger glow: +Still open, to the gloomy God, +Lies the sad path that Báli trod. +"Still to thy plighted word be true, +Lest thou, O King, that path pursue. +I launched the shaft I pointed well. +And Báli, only Báli, fell. +But, if from truth thou dare to stray, +Both thee and thine this hand shall slay." +Thus be the Vánar king addressed, +Then add thyself what seems the best." + + + + +Canto XXXI. The Envoy. + + +Thus Ráma spoke, and Lakshman then +Made answer to the prince of men: +"Yea, if the Vánar, undeterred +By fear of vengeance, break his word, +Loss of his royal power ere long +Shall pay the traitor for the wrong. +Nor deem I him so void of sense +To brave the bitter consequence. +But if enslaved to joy he lie, +And scorn thy grace with blinded eye, +Then let him join his brother slain: +Unmeet were such a wretch to reign. +Quick rises, kindling in my breast, +The wrath that will not be repressed, +And bids me in my fury slay +The breaker of his faith to-day. +Let Báli's son thy consort trace +With bravest chiefs of Vánar race." + + Thus spoke the hero, and aglow +With rage of battle seized his bow. +But Ráma thus in gentler mood +With fitting words his speech renewed: +"No hero with a soul like thine +To paths of sin will e'er incline, +He who his angry heart can tame +Is worthiest of a hero's name. +Not thine, my brother, be the part +So alien from the tender heart, +Nor let thy feet by wrath misled +Forsake the path they loved to tread. +From harsh and angry words abstain: +With gentle speech a hearing gain, +And tax Sugríva with the crime +Of failing faith and wasted time." + + Then Lakshman, bravest of the brave, +Obeyed the hest that Ráma gave, +To whom devoting every thought +The Vánar's royal town he sought. +As Mandar's mountain heaves on high +His curved peak soaring to the sky, +So Lakshman showed, his dread bow bent +Like Indra's(634) in the firmament. +His brother's wrath, his brother's woe +Inflamed his soul to fiercest glow. +The tallest trees to earth were cast +As furious on his way he passed, +And where he stepped, so fiercely fleet, +The stones were shivered by his feet. +He reached Kishkindhá's city deep +Embosomed where the hills were steep, +Where street and open square were lined +With legions of the Vánar kind. +Then, as his lips with fury swelled, +The lord of Raghu's line beheld +A stream of Vánar chiefs outpoured +To do obeisance to their lord. +But when the mighty prince in view +Of the thick coming Vánars drew, +They turned them in amaze to seize +Crags of the rock and giant trees. +He saw, and fiercer waxed his ire, +As oil lends fury to the fire. +Scarce had the Vánar chieftains seen +That wrathful eye, that troubled mien +Fierce as the God's who rules the dead, +When, turned in wild affright, they fled. +Speeding in breathless terror all +Sought King Sugríva's council hall, +And there made known their tale of fear, +That Lakshman wild with rage, was near. +The king, untroubled by alarms, +Held Tárá in his amorous arms, +And in the distant bower with her +Heard not each clamorous messenger. +Then, summoned at the lords' behest +Forth from the city portals pressed, +Each like some elephant or cloud, +The Vánars in a trembling crowd: +Fierce warriors all with massive jaws +And terrors of their tiger claws, +Some matched ten elephants, and some +A hundred's strength could overcome. +Some chieftains, mightier than the rest, +Ten times a hundred's force possessed. +With eyes of fury Lakshman viewed +The Vánars' tree-armed multitude. +Thus garrisoned from side to side +The city walls assault defied. +Beyond the moat that girt the wall +Advanced the Vánar chiefs; and all +Upon the plain in firm brigade, +Impetuous warriors, stood arrayed. +Red at the sight flashed Lakshman's eyes, +His bosom heaved tumultuous sighs, +And forth the fire of fury broke +Like flame that flashes through the smoke. +Like some fierce snake the hero stood: +His bow recalled the expanded hood, +And in his shaft-head bright and keen +The flickering of its tongue was seen: +And in his own all-conquering might +The venom of its deadly bite. +Prince Angad marked his angry look, +And every hope his heart forsook. +Then, his large eyes with fury red, +To Angad Lakshman turned and said: + + "Go tell the king that Lakshman waits +For audience at the city gates, +Whose heart, O tamer of thy foes, +Is heavy with his brother's woes. +Bid him to Ráma's word attend, +And ask if he will aid his friend. +Go, let the king my message learn: +Then hither with all speed return." + + Prince Angad heard and wild with grief +Cried as he looked upon the chief: +"'Tis Lakshman's self: impelled by ire +He seeks the city of my sire." +At the fierce words and furious look +Of Raghu's son he quailed and shook. +Back through the city gates he sped, +And, laden with the tale of dread, +Sought King Sugríva, filled his ears +And Rumá's with his doubts and fears. +To Rumá and the king he bent, +And clasped their feet most reverent, +Clasped the dear feet of Tárá, too, +And told the startling tale anew. + + But King Sugríva's ear was dulled, +By love and wine and languor lulled, +Nor did the words that Angad spake +The slumberer from his trance awake. +But soon as Raghu's son came nigh +The startled Vánars raised a cry, +And strove to win his grace, while dread +Each anxious heart disquieted. +They saw, and, as they gathered round, +Rose from the mighty throng a sound +Like torrents when they downward dash, +Or thunder with the lightning's flash. +The shouting of the Vánars broke +Sugríva's slumber, and he woke: +Still with the wine his eyes were red, +His neck with flowers was garlanded. +Roused at the voice of Angad came +Two Vánar lords of rank and fame; +One Yaksha, one Prabháva hight,-- +Wise counsellors of gain and right. +They came and raised their voices high, +And told that Raghu's son was nigh: +"Two brothers steadfast in their truth, +Each glorious in the bloom of youth, +Worthy of rule, have left the skies, +And clothed their forms in men's disguise. +One at thy gates, in warlike hands +Holding his mighty weapon, stands. +His message is the charioteer +That brings the eager envoy near, +Urged onward by his bold intent, +And by the hest of Ráma sent." +The gathered Vánars saw and fled, +And raised aloud their cry of dread. +Son of Queen Tárá, Angad ran +To parley with the godlike man. +Still fiery-eyed with rage and hate +Stands Lakshman at the city gate, +And trembling Vánars scarce can fly +Scathed by the lightning of his eye. +"Go with thy son, thy kith and kin, +The favour of the prince to win, +And bow thy reverent head that so +His fiery wrath may cease to glow. +What righteous Ráma bids thee, do, +And to thy plighted word be true." + + + + +Canto XXXII. Hanumán's Counsel. + + +Sugríva heard, and, trained and tried +In counsel, to his lords replied: +"No deed of mine, no hasty word +The anger of the prince has stirred. +But haply some who hate me still +And watch their time to work me ill, +Have slandered me to Raghu's son, +Accused of deeds I ne'er have done. +Now, O my lords--for you are wise-- +Speak truly what your hearts advise, +And, pondering each event, inquire +The reason of the prince's ire. +No fear have I of Lakshman: none: +No dread of Raghu's mightier son. +But wrath, that fires a friendly breast +Without due cause, disturbs my rest. +With labour light is friendship gained, +But with severest toil maintained. +And doubt is strong, and faith is weak, +And friendship dies when traitors speak. +Hence is my troubled bosom cold +With fear of Ráma lofty-souled; +For heavy on my spirit weigh +His favours I can ne'er repay." + + He ceased: and Hanumán of all +The Vánars in the council hall +In wisdom first, and rank, expressed +The thoughts that filled his prudent breast: +"No marvel thou rememberest yet +The service thou shouldst ne'er forget, +How the brave prince of Raghu's seed +Thy days from fear and peril freed; +And Báli for thy sake o'erthrew, +Whom Indra's self might scarce subdue. +I doubt not Ráma's anger burns +For the scant love thy heart returns. +For this he sends his brother, him +Whose glory never waxes dim. +Sunk in repose thy careless eye +Marks not the seasons as they fly, +Nor sees that autumn has begun +With dark blooms opening to the sun. +Clear is the sky: no cloudlet mars +The splendour of the shining stars. +The balmy air is soft and still, +And clear and bright are lake and rill. +Thou heedest not with blinded eyes +The hour for warlike enterprise. +Hence Lakshman hither comes to break +Thy slothful trance and bid thee wake. +Then, Monarch, with a patient ear +The high-souled Ráma's message hear, +Which, reft of wife and realm and friends, +Thus by another's mouth he sends. +Thou, Vánar King, hast done amiss: +And now I see no way but this: +Before his envoy humbly stand +And sue for peace with suppliant hand. +High duty bids a courtier seek +His master's weal, and freely speak. +So by no thought of fear controlled +My speech, O King, is free and bold, +For Ráma, if his anger glow, +Can, with the terrors of his bow +This earth with all the Gods subdue, +Gandharvas,(635) and the demon crew. +Unwise to stir his wrathful mood +Whose favour must again be wooed. +And, most of all, unwise for one +Grateful like thee for service done. +Go with thy son and kinsmen: bend +Thy humble head and greet thy friend. +And, like a fond obedient spouse, +Be faithful to thy plighted vows." + + + + +Canto XXXIII. Lakshman's Entry. + + +Through the fair city Lakshman came, +Invited in Sugríva's name. +Within the gates the guardian bands, +Of Vánars raised their suppliant hands, +And in their ordered ranks, amazed, +Upon the princely hero gazed, +They marked each burning breath he drew, +The fury of his soul they knew. +Their hearts were chilled with sudden fear: +They gazed, but dared not venture near, +Before his eyes the city, gay +With gems and flowery gardens, lay, +Where fane and palace rose on high, +And things of beauty charmed the eye. +Where trees of every blossom grew +Yielding their fruit in season due +To Vánars of celestial seed +Who wore each varied form at need, +Fair-faced and glorious with the shine +Of heavenly robes and wreaths divine. +There sandal, aloe, lotus bloomed, +And there delicious breath perfumed +The city's broad street, redolent +Of sugary mead(636) and honey scent. +There many a lofty palace rose +Like Vindhya or the Lord of Snows, +And with sweet murmur sparkling rills +Leapt lightly down the sheltering hills. +On many a glorious palace, raised +For prince and noble,(637) Lakshman gazed: +Like clouds of paly hue they shone +With fragrant wreaths that hung thereon: +There wealth of jewels was enshrined, +And fairer gems of womankind. +There gleamed, of noble height and size, +Like Indra's mansion in the skies, +Protected by a crystal fence +Of rock, the royal residence, +With roof and turret high and bright +Like Mount Kailása's loftiest height. +There blooming trees, Mahendra's gift, +High o'er the walls were seen to lift +Their golden fruited boughs, that made +With leaf and flower delicious shade. +He saw a band of Vánars wait, +Wielding their weapons, at the gate +Where golden portals flashed between +Celestial garlands red and green. +Within Sugríva's fair abode +Unchecked the mighty hero strode, +As when the sun of autumn shrouds +His glory in a pile of clouds. +Through seven wide courts he quickly passed, +And reached the royal tower at last, +Where seats were set with couch and bed +Of gold and silver richly spread. +While the young chieftain's feet drew near +The sound of music reached his ear, +As the soft breathings of the flute +Came blending with the voice and lute. +Then beauty showed her youth and grace +And varied charm of form and face: +Soft bright-eyed creatures, fair and young,-- +Gay garlands round their necks were hung, +And greater charms to each were lent +By richest dress and ornament. +He saw the calm attendants wait +About their lord in careless state, +Heard women's girdles chime in sweet +Accordance with their tinkling feet. +He heard the anklet's silvery sound, +He saw the calm that reigned around, +And o'er him, as he listened, came +A rush of rage, a flood of shame. +He drew his bowstring: with the clang +From ease to west the welkin rang: +Then in his modest mood withdrew +A little from the ladies' view. +And sternly silent stood apart, +While wrath for Ráma filled his heart. +Sugríva knew the sounding string, +And at the call the Vánar king +Sprang swiftly from his golden seat, +And feared the coming prince to meet. +Then with cold lips that terror dried +To beauteous Tárá thus he cried: +"What cause of anger, O my spouse +Fair with the charm of lovely brows, +Sets Lakshman's gentle breast on fire, +And brings him in unwonted ire? +Say, canst thou see, O faultless dame, +A cause to fill his soul with flame? +For there must be a reason when +Such fury stirs the king of men. +Reveal the sin, if sin of mine +Anger the lord of Raghu's line. +Or go thyself, his rage subdue, +And with soft words his favour woo. +Soon as on thee his eyes are set +His heart this anger will forget, +For men like him of lofty mind +Are never stern with womankind. +First let thy gentle speech disarm +His fury, and his spirit charm, +And I, from fear of peril free, +The conqueror of his foes will see." + + She heard: with faltering steps and slow, +With eyes that shone with trembling glow, +With gold-girt body gently bent +To meet the stranger prince she went. +When Lakshman saw the Vánar queen +With tranquil eyes and modest mien, +Before the dame he bent his head, +And anger, at her presence, fled. +Made bold by draughts of wine, and cheered +By Lakshman's look no more she feared, +And in the trust his favour lent +She thus addressed him eloquent: +"Whence springs thy burning fury? say: +Who dares thy will to disobey? +Who checks the maddened flames that seize +On forests full of withered trees?" + + Then Lakshman spoke, her mind to ease, +His kind reply in words like these: + + "Thy lord his days in pleasure spends, +Heedless of duty and of friends, +Nor dost thou mark, though fondly true, +The evil path his steps pursue. +He cares not for affairs of state, +Nor us forlorn and desolate, +But sits a mere spectator still, +A sensual slave to pleasure's will. +Four months were fixed, the time agreed +When he should help us in our need: +But, bound in toils of pleasure fast, +He sees not that the months are past. +Where beats the heart which draughts of wine +To virtue or to gain incline? +Hast thou not heard those draughts destroy +Virtue and gain and love and joy? +For those who, helped at need, refuse +Their aid in turn, their virtue lose: +And they who scorn a friend disdain +A treasure naught may buy again. +Thy lord has cast his friend away, +Nor feared from virtue's path to stray, +If this be true, declare, O dame +Who knowest duty's every claim, +What further work remains for us +Deceived and disappointed thus." + + She listened, for his words were kind, +Where virtue showed with gain combined, +And thus in turn the prince addressed, +As hope was rising in his breast: +"No time, no cause of wrath I see +With those who live and honour thee: +And thou shouldst bear without offence +Thy servant's fitful negligence. +I know the seasons glide away, +While Ráma maddens at delay +I know what deed our thanks has earned, +I know that grace should be returned. +But still I know, whate'er befall, +That conquering love is lord of all; +Know where Sugríva's thoughts, possessed +By one absorbing passion, rest. +But he whom sensual joys debase +Heeds not the claim of time and place, +And sees not with his blinded sight +His duty or his gain aright. +O pardon him who loves me! spare +The Vánar caught in pleasure's snare, +And once again let Ráma grace +With favour him who rules our race. +E'en royal saints, whose chief delight +Was penance and austerest rite, +At love's commandment have unbent, +Beguiled by sweetest blandishment. +And know, Sugríva, roused at last, +The order to his lords has passed, +And, long by love and bliss delayed, +Wakes all on fire your hopes to aid. +A countless host his city fills, +New-gathered from a thousand hills: +Impetuous chiefs, who wear at need +Each varied form, his legions lead. +Come then, O hero, kept aloof +By modest awe, nor fear reproof: +A faithful friend untouched by blame +May look upon another's dame." + + He passed within, by Tárá pressed, +And by his own impatient breast, +Refulgent there in sunlike sheen +Sugríva on his throne was seen. +Gay garlands round his neck were twined, +And Rumá by her lord recline. + + + + +Canto XXXIV. Lakshman's Speech. + + +Sugríva started from his rest +With doubt and terror in his breast. +He heard the prince's furious tread +He saw his eyes glow fiercely red. +Swift sprang the monarch to his feet +Upstarting from his golden seat. +Rose Rumá and her fellows, too, +And closely round Sugríva drew, +As round the moon's full glory stand +Attendant stars in glittering band. +Sugríva glanced with reddened eyes, +Raised his joined hands in suppliant guise +Flew to the door, and rooted there +Stood like the tree that grants each prayer.(638) +And Lakshman saw, and, fiercely moved, +With angry speech the king reproved: + + "Famed is the prince who loves the truth, +Whose soul is touched with tender ruth, +Who, liberal, keeps each sense subdued, +And pays the debt of gratitude. +But all unmeet a king to be, +The meanest of the mean is he +Who basely breaks the promise made +To trusting friends who lent him aid. +He sins who for a steed has lied, +As if a hundred steeds had died: +Or if he lie, a cow to win, +Tenfold as heavy is the sin. +But if the lie a man betray, +Both he and his shall all decay.(639) +O Vánar King, the thankless man +Is worthy of the general ban, +Who takes assistance of his friends, +And in his turn no service lends. +This verse of old by Brahmá sung +Is echoed now by every tongue. +Hear what He cried in angry mood +Bewailing man's ingratitude: +"For draughts of wine, for slaughtered cows, +For treacherous theft, for broken vows +A pardon is ordained: but none +For thankless scorn of service done." +Ungrateful, Vánar King, art thou, +And faithless to thy plighted vow. +For Ráma brought thee help, and yet +Thou shunnest to repay the debt: +Or, grateful, thou hadst surely pressed +To aid the hero in his quest. +Thou art, in vulgar pleasures drowned, +False to thy bond in honour bound. +Nor yet has Ráma's guileless heart +Discerned thee for the thing thou art-- +A snake who holds the frogs that cries +And lures fresh victims as it dies. +Brave Ráma, born for glorious fate, +Has set thee in thy high estate, +And to the Vánars' throne restored, +Great-souled himself, their mean-souled lord. +Now if thy pride disown what he, +High thoughted prince, has done for thee, +Struck by his arrows shalt thou fall, +And Báli meet in Yáma's hall. +Still open, to the gloomy God, +Lies the sad path thy brother trod. +Then to thy plighted word be true, +Nor let thy steps that path pursue. +Methinks the shafts of Ráma, shot +Like thunderbolts, thou heedest not, +Who canst, absorbed in sensual bliss, +Thy promise from thy mind dismiss." + + + + +Canto XXXV. Tárá's Speech. + + +He ceased: and Tárá starry-eyed +Thus to the angry prince replied: +"Not to my lord shouldst thou address +A speech so fraught with bitterness: +Not thus reproached my lord should be, +And least of all, O Prince, by thee. +He is no thankless coward--no-- +With spirit dead to valour's glow. +From paths of truth he never strays, +Nor wanders in forbidden ways. +Ne'er will Sugríva's heart forget, +By Ráma saved, the lasting debt. +Still in his grateful breast will live +The succour none but he could give. +Restored to fame by Ráma's grace, +To empire o'er the Vánar race, +From ceaseless dread and toil set free, +Restored to Rumá and to me: +By grief and care and exile tried, +New to the bliss so long denied, +Like Visvámitra once, alas, +He marks not how the seasons pass. +That saint ten thousand years remained, +By sweet Ghritáchí's(640) love enchained, +And deemed those years, that flew away +So lightly, but a single day. +O, if those years unheeded flew +By him who times and seasons knew, +Unequalled for his lofty mind, +What marvel meaner eyes are blind? +Then be not angry, Raghu's son, +And let thy brother feel for one +Who many a weary year has spent +Stranger to love and blandishment. +Let not this wrath thy soul inflame, +Like some mean wretch unknown to fame: +For high and noble hearts like thine +Love mercy and to ruth incline, +Calm and deliberate, and slow +With anger's raging fire to glow. +At length, O righteous prince, relent, +Nor let my words in vain be spent, +This sudden blaze of fury slake, +I pray thee for Sugríva's sake. +He would renounce at Ráma's call +Rumá and Angad, me and all +Who call him lord: his gold and grain, +The favour of his friend to gain. +His arm shall slay the fiend more base +In soul than all his impious race, +And happy Ráma reunite +To Sítá, rival in delight +Of the triumphant Moon when he +Rejoins his darling Rohiní.(641) +Ten million million demons guard +The gates of Lanká firmly barred. +All hope until that host be slain, +To smite the robber king is vain. +Nor with Sugríva's aid alone +May king and host be overthrown. +Thus ere he died--for well he knew-- +Spake Báli, and his words are true. +I know not what his proofs might be, +But speak the words he spake to me. +Hence far and wide our lords are sent +To raise the mightiest armament, +For their return Sugríva waits +Ere he can sally from his gates. +Still is the oath Sugríva swore +Kept firmly even as before: +And the great host this day will be +Assembled by the king's decree, +Ten thousand thousand troops, who wear +The form of monkey and of bear, +Prepared for thee the war to wage: +Then let thy wrath no longer rage. +The matrons of the Vánar race +See marks of fury in thy face; +They see thine eyes like blood are red, +And will not yet be comforted." + + + + +Canto XXXVI. Sugríva's Speech. + + +She ceased: and Lakshman gave assent, +Won by her gentle argument. +So Tárá's pleading, just and mild, +His softening heart had reconciled. +His altered mood Sugríva saw, +And cast aside the fear and awe +Like raiment heavy with the rain +Which on his troubled soul had lain. +Then quickly to the ground he threw +His flowery garland, bright of hue, +Which round his royal neck he wore, +And, sobered, was himself once more. +Then turning to the princely man +In soothing words the king began: +"My glory, wealth, and royal sway +To other hands had passed away: +But Ráma to my rescue came, +And gave me back my power and fame. +O Lakshman, say, whose grateful heart +Could nurse the hope to pay in part, +By service of a life, the deed +Of Ráma sprung of heavenly seed? +His foeman Rávan shall be slain, +And Sítá shall be his again. +The hero's side I will not leave, +But he the conquest shall achieve. +What need of help has he who drew +His bow, and one great arrow flew +Through seven tall trees, a mountain rent, +And cleft the earth with force unspent? +What aid needs he who shook his bow, +And at the sound the earth below +With hill and wood and rooted rock +Quaked feverous with the thunder shock? +Yet all my legions will I bring, +And follow close the warrior king +Marching on his impetuous way +Fierce Rávan and his hosts to slay. +If I be guilty of offence, +Careless through love or negligence, +Let him his loyal slave forgive; +For error cleaves to all who live." + + Thus king Sugríva, good and brave, +In humble words his answer gave, +Softened was Lakshman's angry mood +Who thus his friendly speech renewed: +"My brother, Vánar King, will see +A champion and a friend in thee. +So strong art thou, so brave and bold, +So pure in thought, so humble-souled, +That thou deservest well to reign +And all a monarch's bliss to gain. +Lend thou my brother aid, and all +His foes beneath his arm will fall. +Full well the words thou speakest suit +A chieftain wise and resolute. +With grateful heart that loves the right, +And foot that never yields in fight. +O come, and my sad brother cheer +Who mourns the wife he holds so dear. +O pardon, friend, my harsh address, +And Ráma's frantic bitterness." + + + + +Canto XXXVII. The Gathering. + + +He ceased: and King Sugríva cried +To sage Hanúmán(642) by his side: +"Summon the Vánar legions, those +Who dwell about the Lord of Snows: +Those who in Vindhyan groves delight, +Kailása's, or Mahendra's height, +Dwell on the Five bright Peaks, or where +Mandar's white summit cleaves the air: +Wherever they are wandring free +In highlands by the western sea, +On that east hill whence springs the sun, +Or where he sinks when day is done. +Call the great chiefs whose legions fill +The forests of the Lotus Hill,(643) +Where every one in strength and size +With the stupendous Anjan(644) vies. +Call those, with tints of burnished gold +Whom Mahásaila's caverns hold: +Those who on Dhúmra roam, or hide +In the wild woods on Meru's side. +Call those who, brilliant as the sun, +On high Mahárun leap and run, +Quaffing sweet juices that distil +From odorous trees upon the hill, +Call those whom tranquil haunts delight, +Where dwell the sage and anchorite +In groves that through their wide extent +Exhale a thousand blossoms' scent. +Send out, send out: from coast to coast +Assemble all the Vánar host: +With force, with words, with gifts of price +Compel, admonish and entice. +Already envoys have been sent +To warn them of their lord's intent. +Let others urged by thee repeat +My mandate that their steps be fleet. +Those lords who yielding to the sway +Of love's delight would fain delay, +Urge hither with the utmost speed, +Or with thee to my presence lead: +And those who linger to the last +Until ten days be come and passed, +And dare their sovereign to defy, +For their offence shall surely die. +Thousands, yea millions, shall there be, +Obedient to their king's decree, +The lions of the Vánar race, +Assembled from each distant place, +Forth shall they haste like hills in size, +Or mighty clouds that veil the skies, +And swiftly speeding on their way +Bring all our legions in array." +He ceased: the son of Váyu(645) heard, +Submissive to his sovereign's word; +And sent his rapid envoys forth +To east and west and south and north. +They bent their airy course afar +Along the paths of bird and star, +And sped through ether farther yet +Where Vishnu's splendid sphere is set.(646) +By sea, on hill, by wood and lake +They called to arms for Ráma's sake, +As each with terror in his breast +Obeyed his awful king's behest. +Three million Vánars, fierce and strong +As Anjan's self, a wondrous throng +Sped from the spot where Ráma still +Gazed restless from the woody hill. +Ten million others, brave and bold, +With coats that shone like burning gold, +Came flying from the mountain crest +Where sinks the weary sun to rest. +Impetuous from the northern skies, +Where Mount Kailása's summits rise, +Ten hundred millions hasted, hued +Like manes of lions, ne'er subdued: +The dwellers on Himálaya's side, +Whose food his roots and fruit supplied, +With rangers of the Vindhyan chain +And neighbours of the Milky Main.(647) +Some from the palm groves where they fed, +Some from the woods of betel sped: +In countless numbers, fierce and brave, +They came from mountain, lake, and cave. + + As on their way the Vánars went +To rouse each distant armament, +They chanced that wondrous tree to view +That on Himálaya's summit grew. +Of old upon that sacred height +Was wrought Mahesvar's(648) glorious rite, +Which every God in heaven beheld, +And his glad heart with triumph swelled. +There from pure seed at random sown +Bright plants with luscious fruit had grown, +And, sweet as Amrit to the taste, +The summit of the mountain graced. +Who once should eat the virtuous fruit +That sprang from so divine a root, +One whole revolving moon should be +From every pang of hunger free. +The Vánars culled the fruit they found +Ripe on the sacrificial ground +With rare celestial odours sweet, +To lay them at Sugríva's feet. +Those noble envoys scoured the land +To summon every Vánar band +Then swiftly homeward at the head +Of countless armaments they sped. +They gathered by Kishkindhá's wall. +They thronged Sugríva's palace hall, +And, richly laden, bare within +That fruit of heavenly origin. +Their gifts before their king they spread, +And thus in tones of triumph said: + + "Through every land our way we took +To visit hill and wood and brook, +And all thy hosts from east to west +Flock hither at their lord's behest." +Sugríva with delighted look +The present of his envoys took, +Then bade them go, with gracious speech +Rewarding and dismissing each. + + + + +Canto XXXVIII. Sugríva's Departure. + + +Thus all the princely Vánars, true +To their appointed tasks, withdrew. +Sugríva deemed already done +The work he planned for Raghu's son. +Then Lakshman gently spoke and cheered +Sugríva for his valour feared: +"Now, chieftain, if thy will be so, +Forth from Kishkindhá let us go." +Sugríva's heart swelled high with pride +As to the prince he thus replied: +"Come, speed we forth without delay: +'Tis mine thy mandate to obey." +Sugríva bade the dames adieu, +And Tárá and the rest withdrew. +Then at their chieftain's summons came +The Vánars first in rank and fame, +A trusty brave and reverent band, +Meet e'en before a queen to stand. +They at his call made haste to bring +The litter of the glorious king. +"Mount, O my friend." Sugríva cried, +And straight Sumitrá's son complied. +Then took by Lakshman's side his place +The sovereign of the woodland race, +Upraised by Vánars, fleet and strong, +Who bore the glittering load along. +On high above his royal head +A paly canopy was spread, +And chouries white in many a hand +The forehead of the monarch fanned, +And shell and drum and song and shout +Pealed round him as the king passed out. +About the monarch went a throng +Of Vánar warriors brave and strong, +As onward to the mountain shade +Where Ráma dwelt his way he made. +Soon as the lovely spot he viewed +Where Ráma lived in solitude, +The Vánar monarch, far-renowed, +With Lakshman, lightly stepped to ground, +And to the son of Raghu went +Joining his raised hands reverent. +As their great leader raised his hands, +So suppliant stood the Vánar bands. +Well pleased the son of Raghu saw +Those legions, hushed in reverent awe, +Stand silent like the tranquil floods +That raise their hands of lotus buds. +But Ráma, when the king, to greet +His friend, had bowed him at his feet, +Raised him who ruled the Vánar race, +And held him in a close embrace: +Then, when his arms he had unknit, +Besought him by his side to sit, +And thus with gentle words the best +Of men the Vánar king addressed: + + "The prince who well his days divides, +And knows aright the times and tides +To follow duty, joy, or gain, +He, only he, deserves to reign. +But he who wealth and virtue leaves, +And every hour to pleasure cleaves, +Falls from his bliss like him who wakes +From slumber on a branch that breaks. +True king is he who smites his foes, +And favour to his servants shows, +And of that fruit makes timely use +Which virtue, wealth, and joy produce. +The hour is come that bids thee rise +To aid me in my enterprise. +Then call thy nobles to debate, +And with their help deliberate." + + "Lost was my power," the king replied, +"All strength had fled, all hope had died. +The Vánars owned another lord, +But by thy grace was all restored. +All this, O conqueror of the foe, +To thee and Lakshman's aid I owe. +And his should be the villain's shame +Who durst deny the sacred claim. +These Vánar chiefs of noblest birth +Have at my bidding roamed the earth, +And brought from distant regions all +Our legions at their monarch's call: +Fierce bears with monkey troops combined, +And apes of every varied kind, +Terrific in their forms, who dwell +In grove and wood and bosky dell: +The bright Gandharvas' brood, the seed +Of Gods,(649) they change their shapes at need. +Each with his legions in array, +Hither, O Prince, they make their way. +They come: and tens of millions swell +To numbers that no tongue may tell.(650) +For thee their armies will unite +With chiefs, Mahendra's peers in might. +From Meru and from Vindhya's chain +They come like clouds that bring the rain. +These round thee to the war will go, +To smite to earth thy demon foe; +Will slay the Rákshas and restore +Thy consort when the fight is o'er." + + + + +Canto XXXIX. The Vánar Host. + + +Then Ráma, best of all who guide +Their steps by duty, thus replied: +"What marvel if Lord Indra send +The kindly rain, O faithful friend? +If, thousand-rayed, the God of Day +Drive every darksome cloud away? +Or, rising high, the Lord of Night +Flood the broad heaven with silver light? +What marvel, King, that one like thee +The glory of his friends should be? +No marvel, O my lord, that thou +Hast shown thy noble nature now. +Thy heart, Sugríva, well I know: +Naught from thy lips but truth may flow, +With thee for friend and champion all +My foes beneath my arm will fall. +The Rákshas, when my queen he stole, +Brought sure destruction on his soul, +Like Anuhláda(651) who beguiled +Queen Sachí called Puloma's child. +Yes, near, Sugríva, is the day +When I my demon foe shall slay, +As conquering Indra in his ire +Slew Queen Paulomí's haughty sire."(652) +He ceased: thick clouds of dust rose high +To every quarter of the sky: +The very sun grew faint and pale +Behind the darkly-gathering veil. +The mighty clouds that hung o'erhead +From east to west thick darkness spread, +And earth to her foundations shook +With hill and forest, lake and brook. +Then hidden was the ground beneath +Fierce warriors armed with fearful teeth, +Hosts numberless, each lord in size +A match for him who rules the skies: +From many a sea and distant hill, +From rock and river, lake and rill. +Some like the morning sun were bright, +Some, like the moon, were silver white: +These green as lotus fibres, those +White-coated from their native snows.(653) +Then Satabali came in view +Girt by a countless retinue. +Like some gold mountain high in air +Tárá's illustrious sire(654) was there. +There Rumá's father,(655) far-renowned, +With tens of thousands ranged around. +There, tinted like the tender green +Of lotus filaments, was seen, +Compassed by countless legions, one +Whose face was as the morning sun, +Hanúmán's father good and great, +Kesarí,(656) wisest in debate. +There the proud king Gaváksha, feared +For his strong warrior arm, appeared. +There Dhúmra, mighty lord, the dread +Of foes, his ursine legions led. +There Panas, first for warlike fame, +With twenty million warriors came. +There glorious Níla, dark of hue, +Arrayed his countless troops in view. +There moved lord Gavaya brave and bold, +Resplendent like a hill of gold, +And near him Darímukha stood +With millions from the hill and wood +And Dwivid famed for strength and speed, +And Mamda, both of Asvin seed. +There Gaja, strong and glorious, led +The countless troops around him spread, +And Jámbaván(657) the king whose sway +The bears delighted to obey, +With swarming myriads onward pressed +True to his lord Sugríva's hest; +And princely Ruman, dear to fame, +Led millions whom no hosts could tame, +All these and many a chief beside(658) +Came onward fierce in warlike pride. +They covered all the plain, and still +Pressed forward over wood and hill. +In rows for many a league around +They rested on the grassy ground; +Or to Sugríva made their way, +Like clouds about the Lord of Day, +And to the king their proud heads bent +In power and might preeminent. +Sugríva then to Ráma sped, +And raised his reverent hands, and said +That every chief from coast to coast +Was present with his warrior host. + + + + +Canto XL. The Army Of The East. + + +With practised eye the king reviewed +The Vánars' countless multitude, +And, joying that his hest was done, +Thus spake to Raghu's mighty son: +"See, all the Vánar hosts who fear +My sovereign might are gathered here. +Chiefs strong as Indra's self, who speed +Wher'er they list, these armies lead. +Fierce and terrific to the view +As Daityas or the Dánav(659) crew, +Famed in all lands for souls afire +With lofty thoughts, they never tire, +O'er hill and vale they wander free, +And islets of the distant sea. +And these gathered myriads, all +Will serve thee, Ráma, at thy call. +Whate'er thy heart advises, say: +Thy mandates will the host obey." + + Then answered Ráma, as he pressed +The Vánar monarch to his breast: +"O search for my lost Sítá, strive +To find her if she still survive: +And in thy wondrous wisdom trace +Fierce Rávan to his dwelling-place. +And when by toil and search we know +Where Sítá lies and where the foe, +With thee, dear friend, will I devise +Fit means to end the enterprise. +Not mine, not Lakshman's is the power +To guide us in the doubtful hour. +Thou, sovereign of the Vánars, thou +Must be our hope and leader now." + + He ceased: at King Sugríva's call +Near came a Vánar strong and tall. +Huge as a towering mountain, loud +As some tremendous thunder cloud, +A prince who warlike legions led: +To him his sovereign turned and said: +"Go, take ten thousand(660) of our race +Well trained in lore of time and place, +And search the eastern region; through +Groves, woods, and hills thy way pursue. +There seek for Sítá, trace the spot +Where Rávan hides, and weary not. +Search for the captive in the caves +Of mountains, and by woods and waves. +To Sarjú,(661) Kausikí,(662) repair, +Bhagírath's daughter(663) fresh and fair. +Search mighty Yamun's(664) peak, explore +Swift Yamuná's(665) delightful shore, +Sarasvati(666) and Sindhu's(667) tide, +And rapid Sona's(668) pebbly side. +Then roam afar by Mahí's(669) bed +Where Kálamahí's groves are spread. +Go where the silken tissue shines, +Go to the land of silver mines.(670) +Visit each isle and mountain steep +And city circled by the deep, +And distant villages that high +About the peaks of Mandar lie. +Speed over Yavadwipa's land,(671) +And see Mount Sisir(672) proudly stand +Uplifting to the skies his head +By Gods and Dánavs visited. +Search each ravine and mountain pass, +Each tangled thicket deep in grass. +Search every cave with utmost care +If haply Ráma's queen be there. +Then pass beyond the sounding sea +Where heavenly beings wander free, +And Sona's(673) waters swift and strong +With ruddy billows foam along. +Search where his shelving banks descend, +Search where the hanging woods extend. +Try if the pathless thickets screen +The robber and the captive queen. +Search where the torrent floods that rend +The mountain to the plains descend: +Search dark abysses where they rave, +Search mountain slope and wood and cave +Then on with rapid feet and gain +The inlands of the fearful main +Where, tortured by the tempest's lash, +Against rude rocks the billows dash: +An ocean like a sable cloud, +Whose margent monstrous serpents crowd: +An ocean rising with a roar +To beat upon an iron shore. +On, onward still! your feet shall tread +Shores of the sea whose waves are red, +Where spreading wide your eyes shall see +The guilt-tormenting cotton tree(674) +And the wild spot where Garud(675) dwells +Which gems adorn and ocean shells, +High as Kailása, nobly decked, +Wrought by the heavenly architect.(676) +Huge giants named Mandehas(677) there +In each foul shape they love to wear, +Numbing the soul with terror's chill, +Hang from the summit of the hill. +When darts the sun his earliest beam +They plunge them in the ocean stream, +New vigour from his rays obtain, +And hang upon the rocks again. +Speed onward still: your steps shall be +At length beside the Milky Sea +Whose every ripple as it curls +Gleams glorious with its wealth of pearls. +Amid that sea like pale clouds spread +The white Mount Rishabh(678) rears his head. +About the mountain's glorious waist +Woods redolent of bloom are braced. +A lake where lotuses unfold +Their silver buds with threads of gold, +Sudarsan ever bright and fair +Where white swans sport, lies gleaming there, +The wandering Kinnar's(679) dear resort, +Where heavenly nymphs and Yakshas(680) sport. +On! leave the Milky Sea behind: +Another flood your search shall find, +A waste of waters, wild and drear, +That chills each living heart with fear. +There see the horse's awful head, +Wrath-born, that flames in Ocean's bed.(681) +There rises up a fearful cry +From the sea things that move thereby, +When, helpless, powerless for flight, +They gaze upon the horrid sight. +Past to the northern shore, and then +Beyond the flood three leagues and ten +Your wondering glances will behold +Mount Játarúpa(682) bright with gold. +There like the young moon pale of hue +The monstrous serpent(683) will ye view, +The earth's supporter, whose bright eyes +Resemble lotus leaves in size. +He rests upon the mountain's brow, +And all the Gods before him bow. +Ananta with a thousand heads +His length in robes of azure spreads. +A triple-headed palm of gold-- +Meet standard for the lofty-souled-- +Springs towering from the mountain's crest +Beneath whose shade he loves to rest, +So that in eastern realms each God +May use it as a measuring-rod. +Beyond, with burning gold aglow, +The eastern steep his peaks will show, +Which in unrivalled glory rise +A hundred leagues to pierce the skies, +And all the neighbouring air is bright +With golden trees that clothe the height. +A lofty peak uprises there +Ten leagues in height and one league square +Saumanas, wrought of glistering gold, +Ne'er to be loosened from its hold. +There his first step Lord Vishnu placed +When through the universe he paced, +And with his second lightly pressed +The loftiest peak of Meru's crest. +When north of Jambudwíp(684) the sun +A portion of his course has run, +And hangs above this mountain height, +Then creatures see the genial light. +Vaikhánases,(685) saints far renowned, +And Bálakhilyas(686) love the ground +Where in their glory half divine, +Touched by the morning glow, they shine +The light that flashes from that steep +Illumines all Sudarsandwíp,(687) +And on each creature, as it glows, +The sight and strength of life bestows. +Search well that mountain's woody side +If Rávan there his captive hide. +The rising sun, the golden hill +The air with growing splendours fill, +Till flashes from the east the red +Of morning with the light they shed. +This, where the sun begins his state, +Is earth and heaven's most eastern gate. +Through all the mountain forest seek +By waterfall and cave and peak. +Search every nook and bosky dell, +If Rávan there with Sítá dwell. +There, Vánars, there your steps must stay: +No farther eastward can ye stray. +Beyond no sun, no moon gives light, +But all is sunk in endless night. +Thus far, O Vánar lords, may you +O'er sea and land your search pursue. +But wild and dark and known to none +Is the drear space beyond the sun. +That mountain whence the sun ascends +Your long and weary journey ends.(688) +Now go, and in a month return, +And let success my praises earn. +He who beyond tho month shall stay +Will with his life the forfeit pay." + + + + +Canto XLI. The Army Of The South. + + +He gathered next a chosen band +For service in the southern land. +He summoned Níla son of Fire, +And, offspring of the eternal Sire, +Jámbaván bold and strong and tall, +And Hanumán, the best of all, +And many a valiant lord beside,(689) +With Angad for their chief and guide. +"Go forth," he cried, "with all this host +Exploring to the southern coast: +The thousand peaks that Vindhya shows +Where every tree and creeper grows: +Where Narmadá's(690) sweet waters run, +And serpents bask them in the sun: +Where Krishnavení's(691) currents flee, +And sparkles fair Godávarí.(692) +Through Mekhal(693) pass and Utkal's(694) land: +Go where Dasárna's(695) cities stand. +Avantí(696) seek, of high renown, +And Abravanti's(697) glorious town. +Search every hill and brook and cave +Where Dandak's woods their branches wave +Ayomukh's(698) woody hill explore +Whose sides are bright with richest ore, +Lifting his glorious head on high +From bloomy groves that round him lie. +Search well his forests where the breeze +Blows fragrant from the sandal trees. +Then will you see Káverí's(699) stream +Whose pleasant waters glance and gleam, +And to the lovely banks entice +The sportive maids of Paradise. +High on the top of Malaya's(700) hill, +In holy musing, calm and still, +Sits, radiant as the Lord of Light, +Agastya,(701) noblest anchorite. +Soon as that lofty-thoughted lord +His high permission shall accord, +Pass Támraparní's(702) flood whose isles +Are loved by basking crocodiles. +The sandal woods that fringe her side +Those islets and her waters hide; +While, like an amorous matron, she +Speeds to her own dear lord the sea. +Thence hasting on your way behold +The Pándyas'(703) gates of pearl and gold. +Then, with your task maturely planned, +On ocean's shore your feet will stand. +Where, by Agastya's high decree, +Mahendra,(704) planted in the sea, +With tinted peaks against the tide +Rises in solitary pride, +And glorious in his golden glow +Spurns back the waves that beat below. +Fair mountain, bright with creepers' bloom +And every tint that trees assume, +Where Yaksha, God, and heavenly maid +Meet wandering in the lovely shade, +At changing moon and solemn tide +By Indra's presence glorified. +One hundred leagues in fair extent +An island(705) fronts the continent: +No man may tread its glittering shore, +With utmost heed that isle explore, +For the fair country owns the sway +Of Rávan whom we burn to slay. +A mighty monster stands to keep +The passage of the southern deep. +Lifting her awful arms on high +She grasps e'en shadows as they fly. +Speed through that isle, and onward still +Where in mid sea the Flowery Hill(706) +Raises on high his bloomy head +By saints and angels visited. +There, with a hundred gleaming peaks +Bright as the sun, the sky he seeks, +One glorious peak the Lord of Day +Gilds ever with his loving ray; +Thereon ne'er yet the glances fell +Of thankless wretch or infidel. +Bow to that hill in reverence due, +And then once more your search pursue. +Beyond that glorious mountain hie, +And Súryaván,(707) proud hill is nigh. +Your rapid course yet farther bend +Where Vaidyut's(708) airy peaks ascend. +There trees of noblest sort, profuse +Of wealth, their kindly gifts produce. +Their precious fruits, O Vánars, taste, +The honey sip, and onward haste. +Next will ye see Mount Kunjar rise, +Who cheers with beauty hearts and eyes. +There is Agastya's(709) mansion, decked +By heaven's all moulding architect. +Near Bhogavatí(710) stands, the place +Where dwell the hosts of serpent race: +A broad-wayed city, walled and barred, +Which watchful legions keep and guard, +The fiercest of the serpent youth, +Each awful for his venomed tooth: +And throned in his imperial hall +Is Vásuki(711) who rules them all. +Explore the serpent city well, +Search town and tower and citadel, +And scan each field and wood that lies +Around it, with your watchful eyes. +Beyond that spot your way pursue: +A noble mountain shall ye view, +Named Rishabh, like a mighty bull, +With gems made bright and beautiful. +All trees of sandal flourish there +Of heavenly fragrance, rich and rare. +But, though they tempt your longing eyes, +Avoid to touch them, and be wise. +For Rohitas, a guardian band +Of fierce Gandharvas, round them stand, +Who five bright sovereign lords(712) obey, +In glory like the God of Day. +Here by good deeds a home is won +With shapes like fire, the moon, the sun. +Here they who merit heaven by worth +Dwell on the confines of the earth. +There stay: beyond it, dark and drear, +Lies the departed spirits' sphere, +And, girt with darkness, far from bliss, +Is Yáma's sad metropolis.(713) +So far, my lords, o'er land and sea +Your destined course is plain and free. +Beyond your steps you may not set, +Where living thing ne'er journeyed yet. +With utmost care these realms survey, +And all you meet upon the way. +And, when the lady's course is traced, +Back to your king, O Vánars, haste. +And he who tells me he has seen. +After long search, the Maithil queen, +Shall gain a noble guerdon: he +In power and bliss shall equal me. +Dear as my very life, above +His fellows in his master's love; +I call him, yea though stained with crime. +My kinsman from that happy time." + + + + +Canto XLII. The Army Of The West. + + +Then to Sushen Sugríva bent, +And thus addressed him reverent: +"Two hundred thousand of our best +With thee, my lord, shall seek the west. +Explore Suráshtra's(714)] distant plain, +Explore Váhlíka's(715) wild domain, +And all the pleasant brooks that flee +Through mountains to the western sea. +Search clustering groves on mountain heights, +And woods the home of anchorites. +Search where the breezy hills are high, +Search where the desert regions lie. +Search all the western land beset +With woody mountains like a net. +The country's farthest limit reach, +And stand upon the ocean beach. +There wander through the groves of palm +Where the soft air is full of balm. +Through grassy dell and dark ravine +Seek Rávan and the Maithil queen. +Go visit Somagiri's(716) steep +Where Sindhu(717) mingles with the deep. +There lions, borne on swift wings, roam +The levels of their mountain home, +And elephants and monsters bear, +Caught from the ocean, to their lair. +You Vánars, changing forms at will, +With rapid search must scour the hill, +And his sky-kissing peak of gold +Where loveliest trees their blooms unfold. +There golden-peaked, ablaze with light, +Uprises Páriyátra's(718) height +Where wild Gandharvas, fierce and fell, +In bands of countless myriads dwell. +Pluck ye no fruit within the wood; +Beware the impious neighbourhood, +Where, very mighty, strong, and hard +To overcome, the fruit they guard. +Yet search for Janak's daughter still, +For Vánars there need fear no ill. +Near, bright as turkis, Vajra(719) named, +There stands a hill of diamond framed. +Soaring a hundred leagues in pride, +With trees and creepers glorified. +Search there each cave and dark abyss +By waterfall and precipice. +Far in that sea the wild waves beat +On Chakraván's(720) firm-rooted feet. +Where the great discus,(721) thousand rayed, +By Vísvakarmá's(722) art was made. +When Panchajan(723) the fiend was slain. +And Hayagríva,(724) fierce in vain, +Thence taking shell and discus went +Lord Vishnu, God preëminent. +On! sixty thousand hills of gold +With wondering eyes shall ye behold, +Where in his glory every one +Is brilliant as the morning sun. +Full in the midst King Meru,(725) best +Of mountains, lifts his lofty crest, +On whom of yore, as all have heard, +The sun well-pleased this boon conferred: +"On thee, O King, on thee and thine +Light, day and night, shall ever shine. +Gandharvas, Gods who love thee well +And on thy sacred summits dwell, +Undimmed in lustre, bright and fair, +The golden sheen shall ever share." +The Visvas,(726) Vasus,(727) they who ride +The tempest,(728) every God beside, +Draw nigh to Meru's lofty crest +When evening darkens in the west, +And to the parting Lord of Day +The homage of their worship pay, +Ere yet a while, unseen of all, +Behind Mount Asta's(729) peaks he fall. +Wrought by the heavenly artist's care +A glorious palace glitters there, +And round about it sweet birds sing +Where the gay trees are blossoming: +The home of Varun(730) high-souled lord, +Wrist-girded with his deadly cord.(731) +With ten tall stems, a palm between +Meru and Asta's hill is seen: +Pure silver from the base it springs, +And far and wide its lustre flings. +Seek Rávan and the dame by brook, +In pathless glen, in leafy nook +On Meru's crest a hermit lives +Bright with the light that penance gives: +Sávarni(732) is he named, renowned +As Brahmá's peer, with glory crowned. +There bowing down in reverence speak +And ask him of the dame you seek. +Thus far the splendid Lord of Day +Pursues through heaven his ceaseless way, +Shedding on every spot his light; +Then sinks behind Mount Asta's height, +Thus far advance: the sunless sea +Beyond is all unknown to me. +Sushen of mighty arm, long tried +In peril, shall your legions guide. +Receive his words with high respect, +And ne'er his lightest wish neglect. +He is my consort's sire, and hence +Deserves the utmost reverence." + + + + +Canto XLIII. The Army Of The North. + + +Forth went the legions of the west: +And wise Sugríva addressed +Satabal, summoned from the crowd. +To whom the sovereign cried aloud: +"Go forth, O Vánar chief, go forth, +Explore the regions of the north. +Thy host a hundred thousand be, +And Yáma's sons(733) attend on thee. +With dauntless courage, strength, and skill +Search every river, wood, and hill. +Through every land in order go +Right onward to the Hills of Snow. +Search mid the peaks that shine afar, +In woods of Lodh and Deodár.(734) +Search if with Janak's daughter, screened +By sheltering rocks, there lie the fiend. +The holy grounds of Soma tread +By Gods and minstrels visited. +Reach Kála's mount, and flats that lie +Among the peaks that tower on high. +Then leave that hill that gleams with ore, +And fair Sudarsan's heights explore. +Then on to Devasakhá(735) hie, +Loved by the children of the sky. +A dreary land you then will see +Without a hill or brook or tree, +A hundred leagues, bare, wild, and dread +In lifeless desolation, spread. +Pursue your onward way, and haste +Through the dire horrors of the waste +Until triumphant with delight +You reach Kailása's glittering height. +There stands a palace decked with gold, +For King Kuvera(736) wrought of old, +A home the heavenly artist planned +And fashioned with his cunning hand. +There lotuses adorn the flood +With full-blown flower and opening bud +Where swans and mallards float, and gay +Apsarases(737) come down to play. +There King Vaisravan's(738) self, the lord +By all the universe adored, +Who golden gifts to mortals sends, +Lives with the Guhyakas(739) his friends. +Search every cavern in the steep, +And green glens where the moonbeams sleep, +If haply in that distant ground +The robber and the dame be found. +Then on to Krauncha's hill,(740) and through +His fearful pass your way pursue: +Though dark and terrible the vale +Your wonted courage must not fail. +There through abyss and cavern seek, +On lofty ridge, and mountain peak, +On, on! pursue your journey still +By valley, lake, and towering hill. +Reach the North Kurus' land, where rest +The holy spirits of the blest: +Where golden buds of lilies gleam +Resplendent on the silver stream, +And leaves of azure turkis throw +Soft splendour on the waves below. +Bright as the sun at early morn +Fair pools that happy clime adorn, +Where shine the loveliest flowers on stems +Of crystal and all valued gems. +Blue lotuses through all the land +The glories of their blooms expand, +And the resplendent earth is strown +With peerless pearl and precious stone. +There stately trees can scarce uphold +The burthen of their fruits of gold, +And ever flaunt their gay attire +Of flower and leaf like flames of fire. +All there sweet lives untroubled spend +In bliss and joy that know not end, +While pearl-decked maidens laugh, or sing +To music of the silvery string.(741) +Still on your forward journey keep, +And rest you by the northern deep, +Where springing from the billows high +Mount Somagiri(742) seeks the sky, +And lightens with perpetual glow +The sunless realm that lies below. +There, present through all life's extent, +Dwells Brahmá Lord preëminent, +And round the great God, manifest +In Rudra(743) forms high sages rest. +Then turn, O Vánars: search no more, +Nor tempt the sunless, boundless shore." + + + + +Canto XLIV. The Ring. + + +But special counselling he gave +To Hanumán the wise and brave: +To him on whom his soul relied, +With friendly words the monarch cried: +"O best of Vánars, naught can stay +By land or sea thy rapid way, +Who through the air thy flight canst bend, +And to the Immortals' home ascend. +All realms, I ween, are known to thee +With every mountain, lake, and sea. +In strength and speed which naught can tire +Thou, worthy rival of thy sire +The mighty monarch of the wind, +Where'er thou wilt a way canst find. +Exert thy power, O swift and strong, +Bring back the lady lost so long, +For time and place, O thou most wise, +Lie open to thy searching eyes." + + When Ráma heard that special hest +To Hanumán above the rest, +He from the monarch's favour drew +Hope of success and trust anew +That he on whom his lord relied, +In toil and peril trained and tried, +Would to a happy issue bring +The task commanded by the king. +He gave the ring that bore his name, +A token for the captive dame, +That the sad lady in her woe +The missive of her lord might know. +"This ring," he said, "my wife will see, +Nor fear an envoy sent by me. +Thy valour and thy skill combined, +Thy resolute and vigorous mind, +And King Sugríva's high behest, +With joyful hopes inspire my breast." + + + + +Canto XLV. The Departure. + + +Away, away the Vánars sped +Like locusts o'er the land outspread. +To northern realms where rising high +The King of Mountains cleaves the sky, +Fierce Satabal with vast array +Of Vánar warriors led the way. +Far southward, as his lord decreed, +Wise Hanumán, the Wind-God's seed, +With Angad his swift way pursued, +And Tára's warlike multitude, +Strong Vinata with all his band +Betook him to the eastern land, +And brave Sushen in eager quest +Sped swiftly to the gloomy west. +Each Vánar chieftain sought with speed +The quarter by his king decreed, +While from his legions rose on high +The shout and boast and battle cry: +"We will restore the dame and beat +The robber down beneath our feet. +My arm alone shall win the day +From Rávan met in single fray, +Shall rob the robber of his life, +And rescue Ráma's captive wife +All trembling in her fear and woe. +Here, comrades, rest: no farther go: +For I will vanquish hell, and she +Shall by this arm again be free. +The rooted mountains will I rend, +The mightiest trees will break and bend, +Earth to her deep foundations cleave, +And make the calm sea throb and heave. +A hundred leagues from steep to steep +In desperate bound my feet shall leap. +My steps shall tread unchecked and free, +Through woods, o'er land and hill and sea, +Range as they list from flood to fell, +And wander through the depths of hell." + + + + +Canto XLVI. Sugríva's Tale. + + +"How, King," cried Ráma, "didst thou gain +Thy lore of sea and hill and plain?" +"I told thee how," Sugríva said, +"From Báli's arm Máyáví fled(744) +To Malaya's hill, and strove to save +His life by hiding in the cave. +I told how Báli sought, to kill +His foe, the hollow of the hill; +Nor need I, King, again unfold +The wondrous tale already told. +Then, wandering forth, my way I took +By many a town and wood and brook. +I roamed the earth from place to place, +Till, like a mirror's polished face, +The whole broad disk, that lies between +Its farthest bounds, mine eyes had seen. +I wandered first to eastern skies +Where fairest trees rejoiced mine eyes, +And many a cave and wooded hill +Where lilies robed the lake and rill. +There metal dyes that hill(745) adorn +Whence springs the sun to light the morn. +There, too, I viewed the Milky sea, +Where nymphs of heaven delight to be. +Then to the south I made my way +From regions of the rising day, +And roamed o'er Vindhya, where the breeze +Is odorous of sandal trees. +Still in my fear I found no rest: +I sought the regions of the west, +And gazed on Asta,(746) where the sun +Sinks when his daily course is run. +Then from that noblest hill I fled +And to the northern country sped, +Saw Himaván,(747) and Meru's steep, +And stood beside the northern deep. +But when, by Báli's might oppressed, +E'en in those wilds I could not rest, +Came Hanumán the wise and brave, +And thus his prudent counsel gave: +"'I told thee how Matanga(748) cursed +Thy tyrant, that his head should burst +In pieces, should he dare invade +The precincts of that tranquil shade. +There may we dwell in peace and be +From thy oppressor's malice free." +We went to Rishyamúka's hill, +And spent our days secure from ill +Where, with that curse upon his head, +The cruel Báli durst not tread." + + + + +Canto XLVII. The Return. + + +Thus forth in quest of Sítá went +The legions King Sugríva sent. +To many a distant town they hied +By many a lake and river's side. +As their great sovereign's order taught, +Through valleys, plains, and groves they sought. +They toiled unresting through the day: +At night upon the ground they lay +Where the tall trees, whose branches swayed +Beneath their fruit, gave pleasant shade. +Then, when a weary month was spent, +Back to Prasravan's hill they went, +And stood with faces of despair +Before their king Sugríva there. +Thus, having wandered through the east, +Great Vinata his labours ceased, +And weary of the fruitless pain +Returned to meet the king again, +Brave Satabali to the north +Had led his Vánar legions forth. +Now to Sugríva he sped +With all his host dispirited. +Sushen the western realms had sought, +And homeward now his legions brought. +All to Sugríva came, where still +He sat with Ráma on the hill. +Before their sovereign humbly bent +And thus addressed him reverent: +"On every hill our steps have been, +By wood and cave and deep ravine; +And all the wandering brooks we know +Throughout the land that seaward flow, +Our feet by thy command have traced +The tangled thicket and the waste, +And dens and dingles hard to pass +for creeping plants and matted grass. +Well have we searched with toil and pain, +And monstrous creatures have we slain +But Hanumán of noblest mind +The Maithil lady yet will find; +For to his quarter of the sky(749) +The robber fiend was seen to fly." + + + + +Canto XLVIII. The Asur's Death. + + +But Hanumán still onward pressed +With Tára, Angad, and the rest, +Through Vindhya's pathless glens he sped +And left no spot unvisited. +He gazed from every mountain height, +He sought each cavern dark as night, +And wandered through the bloomy shade +By pool and river and cascade, +But, though they sought in every place, +Of Sítá yet they found no trace. +On fruit and woodland berries fed +Through many a lonely wild they sped, +And reached at last, untouched by fear, +A desert terrible and drear: +A fruitless waste, a land of gloom +Where trees were bare of leaf and bloom, +Where every scanty stream was dried, +And niggard earth her roots denied. +No elephants through all the ground, +No buffaloes or deer are found. +There roams no tiger, pard, or bear, +No creature of the wood is there. +No bird displays his glittering wings, +No tree, no shrub, no creeper springs. +There rise no lilies from the flood, +Resplendent with their flower and bud, +Where the delighted bees may throng +About the fragrance with their song. +There lived a hermit Kandu named, +For truth and wealth of penance famed. +Whom fervent zeal and holy rite +Had dowered with all-surpassing might. +His little son, a ten year child-- +So chanced it--perished in the wild. +His death with fury stirred the sage, +Who cursed the forest in his rage, +Doomed from that hour to shelter none, +A waste for bird and beast to shun. +They searched by every forest edge, +They searched each cave and mountain ledge, +And thickets whence the water fell +Wandering through the tangled dell. +Striving to do Sugríva's will +They roamed along each leafy rill. +But vain were all endeavours, vain +The careful search, the toil and pain. +Through one dark grove they scarce could wind, +So thick were creepers intertwined. +There as they struggled through the wood +Before their eyes an Asur(750) stood. +High as a towering hill, his pride +The very Gods in heaven defied. +When on the fiend their glances fell +Each braced him for the combat well. +The demon raised his arm on high, +And rushed upon them with a cry. +Him Angad smote,--for, sure, he thought +This was the fiend they long had sought. +From his huge mouth by Angad felled, +The blood in rushing torrents welled, +As, like a mountain from his base +Uptorn, he dropped upon his face. +Thus fell the mighty fiend: and they +Through the thick wood pursued their way; +Then, weary with the toil, reclined +Where leafy boughs to shade them twined. + + + + +Canto XLIX. Angad's Speech. + + +Then Angad spake: "We Vánars well +Have searched each valley, cave, and dell, +And hill, and brook, and dark recess, +And tangled wood, and wilderness. +But all in vain: no eye has seen +The robber or the Maithil queen. +A dreary time has passed away, +And stern is he we all obey. +Come, cast your grief and sloth aside: +Again be every effort tried; +So haply may our toil attain +The sweet success that follows pain. +Laborious effort, toil, and skill, +The firm resolve, the constant will +Secure at last the ends we seek: +Hence, O my friends, I boldly speak. +Once more then, noble hearts, once more +Let us to-day this wood explore, +And, languor and despair subdued, +Purchase success with toil renewed. +Sugríva is a king austere, +And Ráma's wrath we needs must fear. +Come, Vánars, ye think it wise, +And do the thing that I advise." + + Then Gandhamádan thus replied +With lips that toil and thirst had dried; +"Obey his words, for wise and true +Is all that he has counselled you. +Come, let your hosts their toil renew +And search each grove and desert through, +Each towering hill and forest glade. +By lake and brook and white cascade, +Till every spot, as our great lord +Commanded, be again explored." + + Uprose the Vánars one and all, +Obedient to the chieftain's call, +And over the southern region sped +Where Vindhya's tangled forests spread. +They clomb that hill that towers on high +Like a huge cloud in autumn's sky, +Where many a cavern yawns, and streaks +Of radiant silver deck the peaks. +In eager search they wandered through +The forests where the Lodh trees grew, +Where the dark leaves were thick and green, +But found not Ráma's darling queen. +Then faint with toil, their hearts depressed, +Descending from the mountain's crest, +Their weary limbs a while to ease +They lay beneath the spreading trees. + + + + +Canto L. The Enchanted Cave. + + +Angad and Tára by his side, +Again rose Hanumán and tried +Each mountain cavern, dark and deep, +And stony pass and wooded steep, +The lion's and the tiger's home, +By rushing torrents white with foam. +Then with new ardour, south and west, +O'er Vindhya's height the search they pressed. +The day prescribed was near and they +Still wandered on their weary way. +They reached the southern land beset +With woody mountains like a net. +At length a mighty cave they spied +That opened in a mountain's side. +Where many a verdant creeper grew +And o'er the mouth its tendrils threw. +Thence issued crane, and swan, and drake, +And trooping birds that love the lake. +The Vánars rushed within to cool +Their fevered lips in spring or pool. +Vast was the cavern dark and dread, +Where not a ray of light was shed; +Yet not the more their eyesight failed, +Their courage sank or valour quailed. +On through the gloom the Vánars pressed +With hunger, thirst, and toil distressed, +Poor helpless wanderers, sad, forlorn, +With wasted faces wan and worn. +At length, when life seemed lost for aye, +They saw a splendour as of day, +A wondrous forest, fair and bright, +Where golden trees shot flamy light. +And lotus-covered pools were there +With pleasant waters fresh and fair, +And streams their rippling currents rolled +By seats of silver and of gold. +Fair houses reared their stately height +Of burnished gold and lazulite, +And glorious was the lustre thrown +Through lattices of precious stone. +And there were flowers and fruit on stems +Of coral decked with rarest gems, +And emerald leaves on silver trees, +And honeycomb and golden bees. +Then as the Vánars nearer drew, +A holy woman met their view, +Around her form was duly tied +A garment of the blackdeer's hide.(751) +Pure votaress she shone with light +Of fervent zeal and holy rite. +Then Hanumán before the rest +With reverent words the dame addressed: +"Who art thou? say: and who is lord +Of this vast cave with treasures stored?" + + + + +Canto LI. Svayamprabhá. + + +"Assailed by thirst and hunger, dame, +Within a gloomy vault we came. +We saw the cavern opening wide, +And straight within its depths we hied. +But utterly amazed are we +At all the marvels that we see. +Whose are the golden trees that gleam +With splendour like the morning's beam? +These cates of noblest sort? these roots? +This wondrous store of rarest fruits? +Whose are these calm and cool retreats, +These silver homes and golden seats, +And lattices of precious stones? +Who is the happy lord that owns +The golden trees, of rarest scent, +Neath loads of fruit and blossom bent? +Who, strong in holy zeal, had power +To deck the streams with richest dower, +And bade the lilies bright with gold +The glory of their blooms unfold, +Where fish in living gold below +The sheen of changing colours show? +Thine is the holy power, I ween, +That beautified the wondrous scene; +But if another's, lady, deign +To tell us, and the whole explain." + + To him the lady of the cave +In words like these her answer gave: +"Skilled Maya framed in days of old +This magic wood of growing gold. +The chief artificer in place +Was he of all the Dánav race. +He, for his wise enchantments famed, +This glorious dwelling planned and framed +He for a thousand years endured +The sternest penance, and secured +From Brahmá of all boons the best, +The knowledge Usanas(752) possessed. +Lord, by that boon, of all his will, +He fashioned all with perfect skill; +And, with his blissful state content, +In this vast grove a season spent. +By Indra's jealous bolt he fell +For loving Hemá's(753) charms too well. +And Brahmá on that nymph bestowed +The treasures of this fair abode, +Wherein her tranquil days to spend +In happiness that ne'er may end. +Sprung of a lineage old and high, +Merusávarni's(754) daughter, I +Guard ever for that heavenly dame +This home, Svayamprabhá(755) my name,-- +For I have loved the lady long, +So skilled in arts of dance and song. +But say what cause your steps has led +The mazes of this grove to tread. +How, strangers did ye chance to spy +The wood concealed from wanderer's eye? +Tell clearly why ye come: but first +Eat of this fruit and quench your thirst." + + + + +Canto LII. The Exit. + + +"Ráma," he cried, "a prince whose sway +All peoples of the earth obey, +To Dandak's tangled forest came +With his brave brother and his dame. +From that dark shade of forest boughs +The giant Rávan stole his spouse. +Our king Sugríva's orders send +These Vánars forth to aid his friend, +That so the lady be restored +Uninjured to her sorrowing lord. +With Angad and the rest, this band +Has wandered through the southern land, +With careful search in every place +The lady and the fiend to trace. +We roamed the southern region o'er, +And stood upon the ocean's shore. +By hunger pressed our strength gave way; +Beneath the spreading trees we lay, +And cried, worn out with toil and woe, +"No farther, comrades, can we go." +Then as our sad eyes looked around +We spied an opening in the ground, +Where all was gloomy dark behind +The creeping plants that o'er it twined. +Forth trooping from the dark-recess +Came swans and mallards numberless, +With drops upon their shining wings +As newly bathed where water springs. +"On, comrades, to the cave," I cried +And all within the portal hied. +Each clasping fast another's hand +Far onward pressed the Vánar band; +And still, as thirst and hunger drove, +We traced the mazes of the grove. +Here thou with hospitable care +Hast fed us with the noblest fare, +Preserving us, about to die, +With this thy plentiful supply. +But how, O pious lady, say, +May we thy gracious boon repay?" + + He ceased: the ascetic dame replied: +"Well, Vánars, am I satisfied. +A life of holy works I lead, +And from your hands no service need." +Then spake again the Vánar chief: +"We came to thee and found relief. +Now listen to a new distress, +And aid us, holy votaress. +Our wanderings in this vasty cave +Exhaust the time Sugríva gave. +Once more then, lady, grant release, +And let thy suppliants go in peace +Again upon their errand sped, +For King Sugríva's ire we dread. +And the great task our sovereign set, +Alas, is unaccomplished yet." + + Thus Hanumán their leader prayed, +And thus the dame her answer made: +"Scarce may the living find their way +Returning hence to light of day; +But I will free you through the might +Of penance, fast, and holy rite. +Close for a while your eyes, or ne'er +May you return to upper air." +She ceased: the Vánars all obeyed; +Their fingers on their eyes they laid, +And, ere a moment's time had fled, +Were through the mazy cavern led. +Again the gracious lady spoke, +And joy in every bosom woke: +"Lo, here again is Vindhya's hill, +Whose valleys trees and creepers fill; +And, by the margin of the sea, +Prasravan where you fain would be." +With blessings then she bade adieu, +And swift within the cave withdrew. + + + + +Canto LIII. Angad's Counsel. + + +They looked upon the boundless main +The awful seat of Varun's reign. +And heard his waters roar and rave +Terrific with each crested wave. +Then, in the depths of sorrow drowned, +They sat upon the bosky ground, +And sadly, as they pondered, grieved +For days gone by and naught achieved. +Pain pierced them through with sharper sting +When, gazing on the trees of spring, +They saw each waving bough that showed +The treasures of its glorious load, +And helpless, fainting with the weight +Of woe they sank disconsolate. +Then, lion-shouldered, stout and strong, +The noblest of the Vánar throng, +Angad the prince imperial rose, +And, deeply stricken by the woes +That his impetuous spirit broke, +Thus gently to the chieftains spoke: +"Mark ye not, Vánars, that the day +Our monarch fixed has passed away? +The month is lost in toil and pain, +And now, my friends, what hopes remain? +On you, in lore of counsel tried, +Our king Sugríva most relied. +Your hearts, with strong affection fraught, +His weal in every labour sought, +And the true valour of your band +Was blazoned wide in every land. +Forth on the toilsome search you sped, +By me--for so he willed it--led, +To us, of every hope bereft, +Death is the only refuge left. +For none a happy life may see +Who fails to do our king's decree. +Come, let us all from food abstain, +And perish thus, since hope is vain. +Stern is our king and swift to ire, +Imperious, proud, and fierce like fire, +And ne'er will pardon us the crime +Of fruitless search and wasted time. +Far better thus to end our lives, +And leave our wealth, our homes and wives, +Leave our dear little ones and all, +Than by his vengeful hand to fall. +Think not Sugríva's wrath will spare +Me Báli's son, imperial heir: +For Raghu's royal son, not he, +To this high place anointed me. +Sugríva, long my bitter foe, +With eager hand will strike the blow, +And, mindful of the old offence, +Will slay me now for negligence, +Nor will my pitying friends have power +To save me in the deadly hour. +No--here, O chieftains, will I lie +By ocean's marge, and fast and die." + + They heard the royal prince declare +The purpose of his fixt despair; +And all, by common terror moved, +His speech in these sad words approved: +"Sugríva's heart is hard and stern, +And Ráma's thoughts for Sítá yearn. +Our forfeit lives will surely pay +For idle search and long delay, +And our fierce king will bid us die +The favour of his friend to buy." + + Then Tára softly spake to cheer +The Vánars' hearts oppressed by fear: +"Despair no more, your doubts dispel: +Come in this ample cavern dwell. +There may we live in blissful ease +Mid springs and fruit and bloomy trees, +Secure from every foe's assault, +For magic framed the wondrous vault. +Protected there we need not fear +Though Ráma and our king come near; +Nor dread e'en him who batters down +The portals of the foeman's town."(756) + + + + +Canto LIV. Hanumán's Speech. + + +But Hanumán, while Tára, best +Of splendid chiefs his thought expressed, +Perceived that Báli's princely son +A kingdom for himself had won.(757) +His keen eye marked in him combined +The warrior's arm, the ruler's mind, +And every noble gift should grace +The happy sovereign of his race: +Marked how he grew with ripening age +More glorious and bold and sage,-- +Like the young moon that night by night +Shines on with ever waxing light,-- +Brave as his royal father, wise +As he who counsels in the skies:(758) +Marked how, forwearied with the quest, +He heeded not his liege's hest, +But Tára's every word obeyed +Like Indra still by Sukra(759) swayed. +Then with his prudent speech he tried +To better thoughts the prince to guide, +And by division's skilful art +The Vánars and the youth to part: +"Illustrious Angad, thou in fight +Hast far surpassed thy father's might, +Most worthy, like thy sire of old, +The empire of our race to hold. +The Vánars' fickle people range +From wish to wish and welcome change. +Their wives and babes they will not leave +And to their new-made sovereign cleave. +No art, no gifts will draw away +The Vánars from Sugríva's sway, +Through hope of wealth, through fear of pain +Still faithful will they all remain. +Thou fondly hopest in this cave +The vengeance of the foe to brave. +But Lakshman's arm a shower will send +Of deadly shafts those walls to rend. +Like Indra's bolts his shafts have power +To cleave the mountain like a flower. +O Angad, mark my counsel well: +If in this cave thou choose to dwell, +These Vánar hosts with one accord +Will quit thee for their lawful lord, +And turn again with thirsty eyes +To wife and babe and all they prize. +Thou in the lonely cavern left +Of followers and friends bereft, +Wilt be in all thy woe, alas, +Weak as a blade of trembling grass: +And Lakshman's arrows, keen and fierce +From his strong bow, thy heart will pierce. +But if in lowly reverence meek +Sugríva's court with us thou seek, +He, as thy birth demands, will share +The kingdom with the royal heir. +Thy loving kinsman, true and wise, +Looks on thee still with favouring eyes. +Firm in his promise, pure is he, +And ne'er will vex or injure thee. +He loves thy mother, lives for her +A faithful friend and worshipper. +That mother's love thou mayst not spurn: +Her only child, return, return." + + + + +Canto LV. Angad's Reply. + + +"What truth or justice canst thou find," +Cried Angad, "in Sugríva's mind? +Where is his high and generous soul, +His purity and self-control? +How is he worthy of our trust, +Righteous, and true, and wise, and just, +Who, shrinking not from sin and shame, +Durst take his living brother's dame? +Who, when, in stress of mortal strife +His noble brother fought for life, +Against the valiant warrior barred +The portal which he stood to guard? +Can he be grateful--he who took +The hand of Ráma, and forsook +That friend who saved him in his woes, +To whom his life and fame he owes? +Ah no! his heart is cold and mean, +What bids him search for Ráma's queen? +Not honour's law, not friendship's debt, +But angry Lakshman's timely threat. +No prudent heart will ever place +Its trust in one so false and base, +Who heeds not friendship, kith or kin, +Who scorns the law and cleaves to sin. +But true or false, whate'er he be, +One consequence I clearly see; +Me, in my youth anointed heir +Against his wish, he will not spare, +But strike with eager hand the blow +That rids him of a household foe. +Shall I of power and friends despoiled, +In all my purpose crossed and foiled,-- +Shall I Kishkindhá seek, and wait, +Like some poor helpless thing, my fate? +The cruel wretch through lust of sway +Will seize upon his hapless prey, +And to a prison's secret gloom +The remnant of my years will doom. +'Tis better far to fast and die +Than hopeless bound in chains to lie, +Your steps, O Vánars, homeward bend +And leave me here my life to end. +Better to die of hunger here +Than meet at home the fate I fear. +Go, bow you at Sugríva's feet, +And in my name the monarch greet. +Before the sons of Raghu bend, +And give the greeting that I send. +Greet kindly Rumá too, for she +A son's affection claims from me, +And gently calm with friendly care +My mother Tárá's wild despair; +Or when she hears her darling's fate +The queen will die disconsolate." + + Thus Angad bade the chiefs adieu: +Then on the ground his limbs he threw +Where sacred Darbha(760) grass was spread, +And wept as every hope had fled. +The moving words of Angad drew +Down aged cheeks the piteous dew. +And, as the chieftains' eyes grew dim, +They swore to stay and die with him. +On holy grass whose every blade +Was duly, pointing southward, laid, +The Vánars sat them down and bent +Their faces to the orient, +While "Here, O comrades, let us die +With Angad," was the general cry. + + + + +Canto LVI. Sampáti. + + +Then came the vultures' mighty king +Where sat the Vánars sorrowing,-- +Sampáti,(761) best of birds that fly +On sounding pinions through the sky, +Jatáyus' brother, famed of old, +Most glorious and strong and bold. +Upon the slope of Vindhya's hill +He saw the Vánars calm and still. +These words he uttered while the sight +Filled his fierce spirit with delight: +"Behold how Fate with changeless laws +Within his toils the sinner draws, +And brings me, after long delay, +A rich and noble feast to-day, +These Vánars who are doomed to die +My hungry maw to satisfy." + + He spoke no more: and Angad heard +The menace of the mighty bird; +And thus, while anguish filled his breast, +The noble Hanumán addressed: +"Vivasvat's(762) son has sought this place +For vengeance on the Vánar race. +See, Yáma, wroth for Sítá's sake, +Is come our guilty lives to take. +Our king's decree is left undone, +And naught achieved for Raghu's son. +In duty have we failed, and hence +Comes punishment for dire offence. +Have we not heard the marvels wrought +By King Jatáyus,(763) how he fought +With Rávan's might, and, nobly brave, +Perished, the Maithil queen to save? +There is no living creature, none, +But loves to die for Raghu's son, +And in long toils and dangers we +Have placed our lives in jeopardy. +Blest is Jatáyus, he who gave +His life the Maithil queen to save, +And proved his love for Ráma well +When by the giant's hand he fell. +Now raised to bliss and high renown +He fears not fierce Sugríva's frown. +Alas, alas! what miseries spring +From that rash promise of the king!(764) +His own sad death, and Ráma sent +With Lakshman forth to banishment: +The Maithil lady borne away: +Jatáyus slain in mortal fray: +The fall of Báli when the dart +Of Ráma quivered in his heart: +And, after toil and pain and care, +Our misery and deep despair." + + He ceased: the feathered monarch heard, +His heart with ruth and wonder stirred: +"Whose is that voice," the vulture cried, +"That tells me how Jatáyus died, +And shakes my inmost soul with woe +For a loved brother's overthrow? +After long days at length I hear +The glorious name of one so dear. +Once more, O Vánar chieftains, tell +How King Jatáyus fought and fell. +But first your aid, I pray you, lend, +And from this peak will I descend. +The sun has burnt my wings, and I +No longer have the power to fly." + + + + +Canto LVII. Angad's Speech. + + +Though grief and woe his utterance broke +They trusted not the words he spoke; +But, looking still for secret guile, +Reflected in their hearts a while: +"If on our mangled limbs he feed, +We gain the death ourselves decreed." + + Then rose the Vánar chiefs, and lent +Their arms to aid the bird's descent; +And Angad spake: "There lived of yore +A noble Vánar king who bore +The name of Riksharajas, great +And brave and strong and fortunate. +His sons were like their father: fame +Knows Báli and Sugríva's name. +Praised in all lands, a glorious king +Was Báli, and from him I spring. +Brave Ráma, Dasaratha's heir, +A glorious prince beyond compare, +His sire and duty's law obeyed, +And sought the depths of Dandak' shade +Sítá his well-beloved dame, +And Lakshman, with the wanderer came. +A giant watched his hour, and stole +The sweet delight of Ráma's soul. +Jatáyus, Dasaratha's friend, +Swift succour to the dame would lend. +Fierce Rávan from his car he felled, +And for a time the prize withheld. +But bleeding, weak with years, and tired, +Beneath the demon's blows expired, +Due rites at Ráma's hands obtained, +And bliss that ne'er shall minish, gained. +Then Ráma with Sugríva made +A covenant for mutual aid, +And Báli, to the field defied, +By conquering Ráma's arrow died. +Sugríva then, by Ráma's grace, +Was monarch of the Vánar race. +By his command a mighty host +Seeks Ráma's queen from coast to coast. +Sent forth by him, in every spot +We looked for her, but find her not. +Vain is the toil, as though by night +We sought to find the Day-God's light. +In lands unknown at length we found +A spacious cavern under ground, +Whose vaults that stretch beneath the hill +Were formed by Maya's magic skill. +Through the dark maze our steps were bent, +And wandering there a month we spent, +And lost, in fruitless error, thus +The days our king allotted us. +Thus we though faithful have transgressed, +And failed to keep our lord's behest. +No chance of safety can we see, +No lingering hope of life have we. +Sugríva's wrath and Ráma's hate +Press on our souls with grievous weight: +And we, because 'tis vain to fly, +Resolve at length to fast and die." + + + + +Canto LVIII. Tidings Of Sítá. + + +The piteous tears his eye bedewed +As thus his speech the bird renewed; +"Alas my brother, slain in fight +By Rávan's unresisted might! +I, old and wingless, weak and worn, +O'er his sad fate can only mourn. +Fled is my youth: in life's decline +My former strength no more is mine. +Once on the day when Vritra(765) died, +We brothers, in ambitious pride, +Sought, mounting with adventurous flight, +The Day-God garlanded with light. +On, ever on we urged our way +Where fields of ether round us lay, +Till, by the fervent heat assailed, +My brother's pinions flagged and failed. +I marked his sinking strength, and spread +My stronger wings to screen his head, +Till, all my feathers burnt away, +On Vindhya's hill I fell and lay. +There in my lone and helpless state +I heard not of my brother's fate." + + Thus King Sampáti spoke and sighed: +And royal Angad thus replied: +"If, brother of Jatáyus, thou +Hast heard the tale I told but now, +Obedient to mine earnest prayer +The dwelling of that fiend declare. +O, say where cursed Rávan dwells, +Whom folly to his death impels." + + He ceased. Again Sampáti spoke, +And hope in every breast awoke: +"Though lost my wings, and strength decayed, +Yet shall my words lend Ráma aid. +I know the worlds where Vishnu trod,(766) +I know the realm of Ocean's God; +How Asurs fought with heavenly foes, +And Amrit from the churning rose.(767) +A mighty task before me lies, +To prosper Ráma's enterprise, +A task too hard for one whom length +Of days has rifled of his strength. +I saw the cruel Rávan bear +A gentle lady through the air. +Bright was her form, and fresh and young, +And sparkling gems about her hung. +"O Ráma, Ráma!" cried the dame, +And shrieked in terror Lakshman's name, +As, struggling in the giant's hold, +She dropped her gauds of gems and gold. +Like sun-light on a mountain shone +The silken garments she had on, +And glistened o'er his swarthy form +As lightning flashes through the storm. +That giant Rávan, famed of old, +Is brother of the Lord of Gold.(768) +The southern ocean roars and swells +Round Lanká, where the robber dwells +In his fair city nobly planned +And built by Visvakarmá's(769) hand. +Within his bower securely barred, +With monsters round her for a guard, +Still in her silken vesture clad +Lies Sítá, and her heart is sad. +A hundred leagues your course must be +Beyond this margin of the sea. +Still to the south your way pursue, +And there the giant Rávan view. +Then up, O Vánars, and away! +For by my heavenly lore I say, +There will you see the lady's face, +And hither soon your steps retrace. +In the first field of air are borne +The doves and birds that feed on corn. +The second field supports the crows +And birds whose food on branches grows. +Along the third in balanced flight +Sail the keen osprey and the kite. +Swift through the fourth the falcon springs +The fifth the slower vulture wings. +Up to the sixth the gay swans rise, +Where royal Vainateya(770) flies. +We too, O chiefs, of vulture race, +Our line from Vinatá may trace, +Condemned, because we wrought a deed +Of shame, on flesh and blood to feed. +But all Suparna's(771) wondrous powers +And length of keenest sight are ours, +That we a hundred leagues away +Through fields of air descry our prey. +Now from this spot my gazing eye +Can Rávan and the dame descry. +Devise some plan to overleap +This barrier of the briny deep. +Find the Videhan lady there, +And joyous to your home repair. +Me too, O Vánars, to the side +Of Varun's(772) home the ocean, guide, +Where due libations shall be paid +To my great-hearted brother's shade." + + + + +Canto LIX. Sampáti's Story. + + +They heard his counsel to the close, +Then swiftly to their feet they rose; +And Jámbaván with joyous breast +The vulture king again addressed: + + "Where, where is Sítá? who has seen, +Who borne away the Maithil queen? +Who would the lightning flight withstand +by Lakshman's hand?" + + Again Sampáti spoke to cheer +The Vánars as they bent to hear: +"Now listen, and my words shall show +What of the Maithil dame I know, +And in what distant prison lies +The lady of the long dark eyes. +Scorched by the fiery God of Day, +High on this mighty hill I lay. +A long and weary time had passed, +And strength and life were failing fast. +Yet, ere the breath had left my frame, +My son, my dear Supársva, came. +Each morn and eve he brought me food, +And filial care my life renewed. +But serpents still are swift to ire, +Gandharvas slaves to soft desire, +And we, imperial vultures, need +A full supply our maws to feed. +Once he turned at close of day, +Stood by my side, but brought no prey. +He looked upon my ravenous eye, +Heard my complaint and made reply: +"Borne on swift wings ere day was light +I stood upon Mahendra's(773) height, +And, far below, the sea I viewed +And birds in countless multitude. +Before mine eyes a giant flew +Whose monstrous form was dark of hue +And struggling in his grasp was borne +A lady radiant as the morn. +Swift to the south his course he bent, +And cleft the yielding element. +The holy spirits of the air +Came round me as I marvelled there, +And cried as their bright legions met: +"O say, is Sítá living yet?" +Thus cried the saints and told the name +Of him who held the struggling dame. +Then while mine eye with eager look +Pursued the path the robber took, +I marked the lady's streaming hair, +And heard her cry of wild despair. +I saw her silken vesture rent +And stripped of every ornament, +Thus, O my father, fled the time: +Forgive, I pray, the heedless crime." +In vain the mournful tale I heard +My pitying heart to fury stirred, +What could a helpless bird of air, +Reft of his boasted pinions, dare? +Yet can I aid with all that will +And words can do, and friendly skill." + + + + +Canto LX. Sampáti's Story. + + +Then from the flood Sampáti paid +Due offerings to his brother's shade. +He bathed him when the rites were done, +And spake again to Báli's son: +"Now listen, Prince, while I relate +How first I learned the lady's fate. +Burnt by the sun's resistless might +I fell and lay on Vindhya's height. +Seven nights in deadly swoon I passed, +But struggling life returned at last. +Around I bent my wondering view, +But every spot was strange and new. +I scanned the sea with eager ken, +And rock and brook and lake and glen, +I saw gay trees their branches wave, +And creepers mantling o'er the cave. +I heard the wild birds' joyous song, +And waters as they foamed along, +And knew the lovely hill must be +Mount Vindhya by the southern sea. +Revered by heavenly beings, stood +Near where I lay, a sacred wood, +Where great Nisakar dwelt of yore +And pains of awful penance bore. +Eight thousand seasons winged their flight +Over the toiling anchorite-- +Upon that hill my days were spent,-- +And then to heaven the hermit went. +At last, with long and hard assay, +Down from that height I made my way, +And wandered through the mountain pass +Rough with the spikes of Darbha grass. +I with my misery worn, and faint +Was eager to behold the saint: +For often with Jatáyus I +Had sought his home in days gone by. +As nearer to the grove I drew +The breeze with cooling fragrance blew, +And not a tree that was not fair, +With richest flower and fruit was there. +With anxious heart a while I stayed +Beneath the trees' delightful shade, +And soon the holy hermit, bright +With fervent penance, came in sight. +Behind him bears and lions, tame +As those who know their feeder, came, +And tigers, deer, and snakes pursued +His steps, a wondrous multitude, +And turned obeisant when the sage +Had reached his shady hermitage. +Then came Nisakar to my side +And looked with wondering eyes, and cried: +"I knew thee not, so dire a change +Has made thy form and feature strange. +Where are thy glossy feathers? where +The rapid wings that cleft the air? +Two vulture brothers once I knew: +Each form at will could they endue. +They of the vulture race were kings, +And flew with Mátarisva's(774) wings. +In human shape they loved to greet +Their hermit friend, and clasp his feet. +The younger was Jatáyus, thou +The elder whom I gaze on now. +Say, has disease or foeman's hate +Reduced thee from thy high estate?" + + + + +Canto LXI. Sampáti's Story. + + +"Ah me! o'erwhelmed with shame and weak +With wounds," I cried, "I scarce can speak. +My hapless brother once and I +Our strength of flight resolved to try. +And by our foolish pride impelled +Our way through realms of ether held. +We vowed before the saints who tread +The wilds about Kailása's head, +That we with following wings would chase +The swift sun to his resting place. +Up on our soaring pinions through +The fields of cloudless air we flew. +Beneath us far, and far away, +Like chariot wheels bright cities lay, +Whence in wild snatches rose the song +Of women mid the gay-clad throng, +With sounds of sweetest music blent +And many a tinkling ornament. +Then as our rapid wings we strained +The pathway of the sun we gained. +Beneath us all the earth was seen +Clad in her garb of tender green, +And every river in her bed +Meandered like a silver thread. +We looked on Meru far below +And Vindhya and the Lord of Snow, +Like elephants that bend to cool +Their fever in a lilied pool. +But fervent heat and toil o'ercame +The vigour of each yielding frame, +Our weary hearts began to quail, +And wildered sense to reel and fail. +We knew not, fainting and distressed, +The north or south or east or west. +With a great strain mine eyes I turned +Where the fierce sun before me burned, +And seemed to my astonished eyes +The equal of the earth in size.(775) +At length, o'erpowered, Jatáyus fell +Without a word to say farewell, +And when to earth I saw him hie +I followed headlong from the sky.(776) +With sheltering wings I intervened +And from the sun his body screened, +But lost, for heedless folly doomed, +My pinions which the heat consumed. +In Janasthán, I hear them say, +My hapless brother fell and lay. +I, pinionless and faint and weak, +Dropped upon Vindhya's woody peak. +Now with my swift wings burnt away, +Reft of my brother and my sway, +From this tall mountain's summit I +Will cast me headlong down and die." + + + + +Canto LXII. Sampáti's Story. + + +"As to the saint I thus complained +My bitter tears fell unrestrained. +He pondered for a while, then broke +The silence, and thus calmly spoke: +"Forth from thy sides again shall spring, +O royal bird, each withered wing, +And all thine ancient power and might +Return to thee with strength of sight. +A noble deed has been foretold +In prophecy pronounced of old: +Nor dark to me are future things, +Seen by the light which penance brings. +A glorious king shall rise and reign, +The pride of old Ikshváku's strain. +A good and valiant prince, his heir, +Shall the dear name of Ráma bear. +With his brave brother Lakshman he +An exile in the woods shall be, +Where Rávan, whom no God may slay,(777) +Shall steal his darling wife away. +In vain the captive will be wooed +With proffered love and dainty food, +She will not hear, she will not taste: +But, lest her beauty wane and waste, +Lord Indra's self will come to her +With heavenly food, and minister. +Then envoys of the Vánar race +By Ráma sent will seek this place. +To them, O roamer of the air, +The lady's fate shalt thou declare. +Thou must not move--so maimed thou art +Thou canst not from this spot depart. +Await the day and moment due, +And thy burnt wings will sprout anew. +I might this day the boon bestow +And bid again thy pinions grow, +But wait until thy saving deed +The nations from their fear have freed. +Then for this glorious aid of thine +The princes of Ikshváku's line, +And Gods above and saints below +Eternal gratitude shall owe. +Fain would mine aged eyes behold +That pair of whom my lips have told, +Yet wearied here I must not stay, +But leave my frame and pass away." + + + + +Canto LXIII. Sampáti's Story. + + +"With this and many a speech beside +My failing heart he fortified, +With glorious hope my breast inspired, +And to his holy home retired. +I scaled the mountain height, to view +The region round, and looked for you. +In ceaseless watchings night and day +A hundred seasons passed away, +And by the sage's words consoled +I wait the hour and chance foretold. +But since Nisakar sought the skies. +And cast away all earthly ties, +Full many a care and doubt has pressed +With grievous weight upon my breast. +But for the saint who turned aside +My purpose I had surely died. +Those hopeful words the hermit spake, +That bid me live for Ráma's sake, +Dispel my anguish as the light +Of lamp and torch disperse the night." + + He ceased: and in the Vánars' view +Forth from his side young pinions grew, +And boundless rapture filled his breast +As thus the chieftains he addressed: +"Joy, joy! the pinions, which the Lord +Of Day consumed, are now restored +Through the dear grace & boundless might +Of that illustrious anchorite. +The fire of youth within me burns, +And all my wonted strength returns. +Onward, ye Vánars, toil strive, +And you shall find the dame alive. +Look on these new-found wings, and hence +Be strong in surest confidence." + + Swift from the crag he sprang to try +His pinions in his native sky. +His words the chieftains' doubts had stilled, +And every heart with courage filled.(778) + + + + +Canto LXIV. The Sea. + + +Shouts of triumphant joy outrang +As to their feet the Vánars sprang: +And, on the mighty task intent, +Swift to the sea their steps they bent. +They stood and gazed upon the deep, +Whose billows with a roar and leap +On the sea banks ware wildly hurled,-- +The mirror of the mighty world. +There on the strand the Vánars stayed +And with sad eyes the deep surveyed, +Here, as in play, his billows rose, +And there he slumbered in repose. +Here leapt the boisterous waters, high +As mountains, menacing the sky, +And wild infernal forms between +The ridges of the waves were seen. +They saw the billows rave and swell, +And their sad spirits sank and fell; +For ocean in their deep despair +Seemed boundless as the fields of air. +Then noble Angad spake to cheer +The Vánars and dispel their fear: +"Faint not: despair should never find +Admittance to a noble mind. +Despair, a serpent's mortal bite, +Benumbs the hero's power and might." + + Then passed the weary night, and all +Assembled at their prince's call, +And every lord of high estate +Was gathered round him for debate. +Bright was the chieftains' glorious band +Round Angad on the ocean strand, +As when the mighty Storm-Gods meet +Round Indra on his golden seat. +Then princely Angad looked on each, +And thus began his prudent speech: +"What chief of all our host will leap +A hundred leagues across the deep? +Who, O illustrious Vánars, who +Will make Sugríva's promise true, +And from our weight of fear set free +The leaders of our band and me? +To whom, O warriors, shall we owe +A sweet release from pain and woe, +And proud success, and happy lives +With our dear children and our wives, +Again permitted by his grace +To look with joy on Ráma's face, +And noble Lakshman, and our lord +The king, to our sweet homes restored?" + + Thus to the gathered lords he spoke; +But no reply the silence broke. +Then with a sterner voice he cried: +"O chiefs, the nation's boast and pride, +Whom valour strength and power adorn, +Of most illustrious lineage born, +Where'er you will you force a way, +And none your rapid course can stay. +Now come, your several powers declare. +And who this desperate leap will dare?" + + + + +Canto LXV. The Council. + + +But none of all the host was found +To clear the sea with desperate bound, +Though each, as Angad bade, declared +His proper power and what he dared.(779) +Then spake good Jámbaván the sage, +Chief of them all for reverend age; +"I, Vánar chieftains, long ago +Limbs light to leap could likewise show, +But now on frame and spirit weighs +The burthen of my length of days. +Still task like this I may not slight, +When Ráma and our king unite. +So listen while I tell, O friends, +What lingering strength mine age attends. +If my poor leap may aught avail, +Of ninety leagues, I will not fail. +Far other strength in youth's fresh prime +I boasted, in the olden time, +When, at Prahláda's(780) solemn rite, +I circled in my rapid flight +Lord Vishnu, everlasting God, +When through the universe he trod. +But now my limbs are weak and old, +My youth is fled, its fire is cold, +And these exhausted nerves to strain +In such a task were idle pain." + + Then Angad due obeisance paid, +And to the chief his answer made: +"Then I, ye noble Vánars, I +Myself the mighty leap will try: +Although perchance the power I lack +To leap from Lanká's island back." + + Thus the impetuous chieftain cried, +And Jámbaván the sage replied: +"Whate'er thy power and might may be, +This task, O Prince, is not for thee. +Kings go not forth themselves, but send +The servants who their best attend. +Thou art the darling and the boast, +The honoured lord of all the host. +In thee the root, O Angad, lies +Of our appointed enterprise; +And thee, on whom our hopes depend, +Our care must cherish and defend." + + Then Báli's noble son replied: +"Needs must I go, whate'er betide, +For, if no chief this exploit dare, +What waits us all save blank despair,-- +Upon the ground again to lie +In hopeless misery, fast, and die? +For not a hope of life I see +If we neglect our king's decree." +Then spoke the aged chief again: +"Nay our attempt shall not be vain, +For to the task will I incite +A chieftain of sufficient might." + + + + +Canto LXVI. Hanumán. + + +The chieftain turned his glances where +The legions sat in mute despair; +And then to Hanumán, the best +Of Vánar lords, these words addressed: +"Why still, and silent, and apart, +O hero of the dauntless heart? +Thou keepest treasured in thy mind +The laws that rule the Vánar kind, +Strong as our king Sugríva, brave +As Ráma's self to slay or save. +Through every land thy praise is heard, +Famous as that illustrious bird, +Aríshtanemi's son,(781) the king +Of every fowl that plies the wing. +Oft have I seen the monarch sweep +With sounding pinions o'er the deep, +And in his mighty talons bear +Huge serpents struggling through the air. +Thy arms, O hero, match in might +The ample wings he spreads for flight; +And thou with him mayest well compare +In power to do, in heart to dare. +Why, rich in wisdom, power, and skill, +O hero, art thou lingering still? +An Apsaras(782) the fairest found +Of nymphs for heavenly charms renowned, +Sweet Punjikasthalá, became +A noble Vánar's wedded dame. +Her heavenly title heard no more, +Anjaná was the name she bore, +When, cursed by Gods, from heaven she fell +In Vánar form on earth to dwell, +New-born in mortal shape the child +Of Kunjar monarch of the wild. +In youthful beauty wondrous fair, +A crown of flowers about her hair, +In silken robes of richest dye +She roamed the hills that kiss the sky. +Once in her tinted garments dressed +She stood upon the mountain crest, +The God of Wind beside her came, +And breathed upon the lovely dame. +And as he fanned her robe aside +The wondrous beauty that he eyed +In rounded lines of breast and limb +And neck and shoulder ravished him; +And captured by her peerless charms +He strained her in his amorous arms. +Then to the eager God she cried +In trembling accents, terrified: +"Whose impious love has wronged a spouse +So constant in her nuptial vows?" +He heard, and thus his answer made: +"O, be not troubled, nor afraid, +But trust, and thou shalt know ere long +My love has done thee, sweet, no wrong, +So strong and brave and wise shall be +The glorious child I give to thee. +Might shall be his that naught can tire, +And limbs to spring as springs his sire." +Thus spoke the God; the conquered dame +Rejoiced in heart nor feared the shame. +Down in a cave beneath the earth +The happy mother gave thee birth. +Once o'er the summit of the wood +Before thine eyes the new sun stood. +Thou sprangest up in haste to seize +What seemed the fruitage of the trees. +Up leapt the child, a wondrous bound, +Three hundred leagues above the ground, +And, though the angered Day-God shot +His fierce beams on him, feared him not. +Then from the hand of Indra came +A red bolt winged with wrath and flame. +The child fell smitten on a rock, +His cheek was shattered by the shock, +Named Hanumán(783) thenceforth by all +In memory of the fearful fall. +The wandering Wind-God saw thee lie +With bleeding cheek and drooping eye, +And stirred to anger by thy woe +Forbade each scented breeze to blow. +The breath of all the worlds was stilled, +And the sad Gods with terror filled +Prayed to the Wind, to calm the ire +And soothe the sorrow of the sire. +His fiery wrath no longer glowed, +And Brahmá's self the boon bestowed +That in the brunt of battle none +Should slay with steel the Wind-God's son. +Lord Indra, sovereign of the skies, +Bent on thee all his thousand eyes, +And swore that ne'er the bolt which he +Hurls from the heaven should injure thee. +'Tis thine, O mighty chief, to share +The Wind-God's power, his son and heir. +Sprung from that glorious father thou, +And thou alone, canst aid us now. +This earth of yore, through all her climes, +I circled one-and-twenty times, +And gathered, as the Gods decreed, +Great store of herbs from hill and mead, +Which, scattered o'er the troubled wave, +The Amrit to the toilers gave. +But now my days are wellnigh told, +My strength is gone, my limbs are old, +And thou, the bravest and the best, +Art the sure hope of all the rest. +Now, mighty chief, the task assay: +Thy matchless power and strength display. +Rise up, O prince, our second king, +And o'er the flood of ocean spring. +So shall the glorious exploit vie +With his who stepped through earth and sky."(784) + + He spoke: the younger chieftain heard, +His soul to vigorous effort stirred, +And stood before their joyous eyes +Dilated in gigantic size. + + + + +Canto LXVII. Hanumán's Speech. + + +Soon as his stature they beheld, +Their fear and sorrow were dispelled; +And joyous praises loud and long +Rang out from all the Vánar throng. +On the great chief their eyes they bent +In rapture and astonishment, +As, when his conquering foot he raised, +The Gods upon Náráyan(785) gazed. +He stood amid the joyous crowd, +Bent to the chiefs, and cried aloud: +"The Wind-God, Fire's eternal friend, +Whose blasts the mountain summits rend, +With boundless force that none may stay, +Takes where he lists his viewless way. +Sprung from that glorious father, I +In power and speed with him may vie, +A thousand times with airy leap +Can circle loftiest Meru's steep: +With my fierce arms can stir the sea +Till from their bed the waters flee +And rush at my command to drown +This land with grove and tower and town. +I through the fields of air can spring +Far swifter than the feathered King, +And leap before him as he flies, +On sounding pinions through the skies. +I can pursue the Lord of Light +Uprising from the eastern height, +And reach him ere his course be sped +With burning beams engarlanded. +I will dry up the mighty main, +Shatter the rocks and rend the plain. +O'er earth and ocean will I bound, +And every flower that grows on ground, +And bloom of climbing plants shall show +Strewn on the ground, the way I go, +Bright as the lustrous path that lies +Athwart the region of the skies.(786) +The Maithil lady will I find,-- +Thus speaks mine own prophetic mind,-- +And cast in hideous ruin down +The shattered walls of Lanká's town." + + Still on the chief in rapt surprise +The Vánar legions bent their eyes, +And thus again sage Jámbaván +Addressed the glorious Hanumán: +"Son of the Wind, thy promise cheers +The Vánars' hearts, and calms their fears, +Who, rescued from their dire distress, +With prospering vows thy way will bless. +The holy saints their favour lend, +And all our chiefs the deed commend +Urging thee forward on thy way: +Arise then, and the task assay. +Thou art our only refuge; we, +Our lives and all, depend on thee." + + Then sprang the Wind-God's son the best +Of Vánars, on Mahendra's crest, +And the great mountain rocked and swayed +By that unusual weight dismayed, +As reels an elephant beneath +The lion's spring and rending teeth. +The shady wood that crowned him shook, +The trembling birds the boughs forsook, +And ape and pard and lion fled +From brake and lair disquieted. + + + + + +BOOK V.(787) + + + + +Canto I. Hanumán's Leap. + + +Thus Rávan's foe resolved to trace +The captive to her hiding-place +Through airy pathways overhead +Which heavenly minstrels visited. +With straining nerve and eager brows, +Like some strong husband of the cows, +In ready might he stood prepared +For the bold task his soul has dared. +O'er gem-like grass that flashed and glowed +The Vánar like a lion strode. +Roused by the thunder of his tread, +The beasts to shady coverts fled. +Tall trees he crushed or hurled aside, +And every bird was terrified. +Around him loveliest lilies grew, +Pale pink, and red, and white, and blue, +And tints of many a metal lent +The light of varied ornament. +Gandharvas, changing forms at will, +And Yakshas roamed the lovely hill, +And countless Serpent-Gods were seen +Where flowers and grass were fresh and green. +As some resplendent serpent takes +His pastime in the best of lakes, +So on the mountain's woody height +The Vánar wandered with delight. +Then, standing on the flowery sod, +He paid his vows to saint and God. +Svayambhu(788) and the Sun he prayed, +And the swift Wind to lend him aid, +And Indra, sovereign of the skies, +To bless his hardy enterprise. +Then once again the chief addressed +The Vánars from the mountain crest: +"Swift as a shaft from Ráma's bow +To Rávan's city will I go, +And if she be not there will fly +And seek the lady in the sky; +Or, if in heaven she be not found, +Will hither bring the giant bound." + + He ceased; and mustering his might +Sprang downward from the mountain height, +While, shattered by each mighty limb, +The trees unrooted followed him. +The shadow on the ocean cast +By his vast form, as on he passed, +Flew like a ship before the gale +When the strong breeze has filled the sail, +And where his course the Vánar held +The sea beneath him raged and swelled. +Then Gods and all the heavenly train +Poured flowerets down in gentle rain; +Their voices glad Gandharvas raised, +And saints in heaven the Vánar praised. +Fain would the Sea his succour lend +And Raghu's noble son befriend. +He, moved by zeal for Ráma's sake, +The hill Maináka(789) thus bespake: +"O strong Maináka, heaven's decree +In days of old appointed thee +To be the Asurs bar, and keep +The rebels in the lowest deep. +Thou guardest those whom heaven has cursed +Lest from their prison-house they burst, +And standest by the gates of hell +Their limitary sentinel. +To thee is given the power to spread +Or spring above thy watery bed. +Now, best of noble mountains, rise +And do the thing that I advise. +E'en now above thy buried crest +Flies mighty Hanumán, the best +Of Vánars, moved for Ráma's sake +A wonderous deed to undertake. +Lift up thy head that he may stay +And rest him on his weary way." + + He heard, and from his watery shroud, +As bursts the sun from autumn cloud, +Rose swifty, crowned with plant and tree, +And stood above the foamy sea.(790) +There with his lofty peaks upraised +Bright as a hundred suns he blazed, +And crest and crag of burnished gold +Flashed on the flood that round him rolled. +The Vánar thought the mountain rose +A hostile bar to interpose, +And, like a wind-swept cloud, o'erthrew +The glittering mountain as he flew. +Then from the falling hill rang out +A warning voice and joyful shout. +Again he raised him high in air +To meet the flying Vánar there, +And standing on his topmost peak +In human form began to speak:(791) +"Best of the Vánars' noblest line, +A mighty task, O chief, is thine. +Here for a while, I pray thee, light +And rest upon the breezy height. +A prince of Raghu's line was he +Who gave his glory to the Sea,(792) +Who now to Ráma's envoy shows +High honour for the debt he owes. +He bade me lift my buried head +Uprising from my watery bed, +And woo the Vánar chief to rest +A moment on my glittering crest. +Refresh thy weary limbs, and eat +My mountain fruits for they are sweet. +I too, O chieftain, know thee well; +Three worlds thy famous virtues tell; +And none, I ween, with thee may vie +Who spring impetuous through the sky. +To every guest, though mean and low. +The wise respect and honour show; +And how shall I neglect thee, how +Slight the great guest so near me now? +Son of the Wind, 'tis thine to share +The might of him who shakes the air; +And,--for he loves his offspring,--he +Is honoured when I honour thee. +Of yore, when Krita's age(793) was new, +The little hills and mountains flew +Where'er they listed, borne on wings +More rapid than the feathered king's.(794) +But mighty terror came on all +The Gods and saints who feared their fall. +And Indra in his anger rent +Their pinions with the bolts he sent. +When in his ruthless fury he +Levelled his flashing bolt at me, +The great-souled Wind inclined to save, +And laid me neath the ocean's wave. +Thus by the favour of the sire +I kept my cherished wings entire; +And for this deed of kindness done +I honour thee his noble son. +O come, thy weary limbs relieve, +And honour due from me receive." +"I may not rest," the Vánar cried; +"I must not stay or turn aside. +Yet pleased am I, thou noblest hill, +And as the deed accept thy will." + + Thus as he spoke he lightly pressed +With his broad hand the mountain's crest, +Then bounded upward to the height +Of heaven, rejoicing in his might, +And through the fields of boundless blue, +The pathway of his father, flew. +Gods, saints, and heavenly bards beheld +That flight that none had paralleled, +Then to the Nágas' mother(795) came +And thus addressed the sun-bright dame: +"See, Hanumán with venturous leap +Would spring across the mighty deep,-- +A Vánar prince, the Wind-God's seed: +Come, Surasá, his course impede. +In Rákshas form thy shape disguise, +Terrific, like a hill in size: +Let thy red eyes with fury glow, +And high as heaven thy body grow. +With fearful tusks the chief defy, +That we his power and strength may try. +He will with guile thy hold elude, +Or own thy might, by thee subdued." + + Pleased with the grateful honours paid, +The godlike dame their words obeyed, +Clad in a shape of terror she +Sprang from the middle of the sea, +And, with fierce accents that appalled +All creatures, to the Vánar called: +"Come, prince of Vánars, doomed to be +My food this day by heaven's decree. +Such boon from ages long ago +To Brahmá's favouring will I owe." + + She ceased, and Hanumán replied, +By shape and threat unterrified: +"Brave Ráma with his Maithil spouse +Lodged in the shade of Dandak's boughs, +Thence Rávan king of giants stole +Sítá the joy of Ráma's soul. +By Ráma's high behest to her +I go a willing messenger; +And never shouldst them hinder one +Who toils for Dasaratha's son. +First captive Sítá will I see, +And him who sent and waits for me, +Then come and to thy will submit, +Yea, by my truth I promise it." +"Nay, hope not thus thy life to save; +Not such the boon that Brahmá gave. +Enter my mouth," was her reply, +"Then forward on thy journey hie!"(796) + + "Stretch, wider stretch thy jaws," exclaimed +The Vánar chief, to ire inflamed; +And, as the Rákshas near him drew, +Ten leagues in height his stature grew. +Then straight, her threatening jaws between, +A gulf of twenty leagues was seen. +To fifty leagues he waxed, and still +Her mouth grew wider at her will. +Then smaller than a thumb became, +Shrunk by his power, the Vánar's frame.(797) +He leaped within, and turning round +Sprang through the portal at a bound. +Then hung in air a moment, while +He thus addressed her with a smile: +"O Daksha's child,(798) farewell at last! +For I within thy mouth have passed. +Thou hast the gift of Brahmá's grace: +I go, the Maithil queen to trace." +Then, to her former shape restored, +She thus addressed the Vánar lord: +"Then forward to the task, and may +Success and joy attend thy way! +Go, and the rescued lady bring +In triumph to her lord and king." + + Then hosts of spirits as they gazed +The daring of the Vánar praised. +Through the broad fields of ether, fast +Garud's royal self, he passed, +The region of the cloud and rain, +Loved by the gay Gandharva train, +Where mid the birds that came and went +Shone Indra's glorious bow unbent, +And like a host of wandering stars +Flashed the high Gods' celestial cars. +Fierce Sinhiká(799) who joyed in ill +And changed her form to work her will, +Descried him on his airy way +And marked the Vánar for her prey. +"This day at length," the demon cried, +"My hunger shall be satisfied," +And at his passing shadow caught +Delighted with the cheering thought. +The Vánar felt the power that stayed +And held him as she grasped his shade, +Like some tall ship upon the main +That struggles with the wind in vain. +Below, above, his eye he bent +And scanned the sea and firmament. +High from the briny deep upreared +The monster's hideous form appeared, +"Sugríva's tale," he cried, "is true: +This is the demon dire to view +Of whom the Vánar monarch told, +Whose grasp a passing shade can hold." +Then, as a cloud in rain-time grows +His form, dilating, swelled and rose. +Wide as the space from heaven to hell +Her jaws she opened with a yell, +And rushed upon her fancied prey +With cloud-like roar to seize and slay. +The Vánar swift as thought compressed +His borrowed bulk of limb and chest, +And stood with one quick bound inside +The monstrous mouth she opened wide. +Hid like the moon when Ráhu draws +The orb within his ravening jaws. +Within that ample cavern pent +The demon's form he tore and rent, +And, from the mangled carcass freed, +Came forth again with thought-like speed.(800) +Thus with his skill the fiend he slew, +Then to his wonted stature grew. +The spirits saw the demon die +And hailed the Vánar from the sky: +"Well hast thou fought a wondrous fight +Nor spared the fiend's terrific might, +On, on! perform the blameless deed, +And in thine every wish succeed. +Ne'er can they fail in whom combine +Such valour, thought, and skill as thine." + + Pleased with their praises as they sang, +Again through fields of air he sprang, +And now, his travail wellnigh done, +The distant shore was almost won. +Before him on the margent stood +In long dark line a waving wood, +And the fair island, bright and green +With flowers and trees, was clearly seen, +And every babbling brook that gave +Her lord the sea a tribute wave. +He lighted down on Lamba's peak +Which tinted metals stain and streak, +And looked where Lanká's splendid town +Shone on the mountain like a crown. + + + + +Canto II. Lanká. + + +The glorious sight a while he viewed, +Then to the town his way pursued. +Around the Vánar as he went +Breathed from the wood delicious scent, +And the soft grass beneath his feet +With gem-like flowers was bright and sweet. +Still as the Vánar nearer drew +More clearly rose the town to view. +The palm her fan-like leaves displayed, +Priyálas(801) lent their pleasant shade, +And mid the lower greenery far +Conspicuous rose the Kovidár.(802) +A thousand trees mid flowers that glowed +Hung down their fruit's delicious load,(803) +And in their crests that rocked and swayed +Sweet birds delightful music made. +And there were pleasant pools whereon +The glories of the lotus shone; +And gleams of sparkling fountains, stirred +By many a joyous water-bird. +Around, in lovely gardens grew +Blooms sweet of scent and bright of hue, +And Lanká, seat of Rávan's sway, +Before the wondering Vánar lay: +With stately domes and turrets tall, +Encircled by a golden wall, +And moats whose waters were aglow +With lily blossoms bright below: +For Sítá's sake defended well +With bolt and bar and sentinel, +And Rákshases who roamed in bands +With ready bows in eager hands. +He saw the stately mansions rise +Like pale-hued clouds in autumn skies; +Where noble streets were broad and bright, +And banners waved on every height. +Her gates were glorious to behold +Rich with the shine of burnished gold: +A lovely city planned and decked +By heaven's creative architect,(804) +Fairest of earthly cities meet +To be the Gods' celestial seat. +The Vánar by the northern gate +Thus in his heart began debate +"Our mightiest host would strive in vain +To take this city on the main: +A city that may well defy +The chosen warriors of the sky; +A city never to be won +E'en by the arm of Raghu's son. +Here is no hope by guile to win +The hostile hearts of those within. +'Twere vain to war, or bribe, or sow +Dissension mid the Vánar foe. +But now my search must I pursue +Until the Maithil queen I view: +And, when I find the captive dame, +Make victory mine only aim. +But, if I wear my present shape, +How shall I enter and escape +The Rákshas troops, their guards and spies, +And sleepless watch of cruel eyes? +The fiends of giant race who hold +This mighty town are strong and bold; +And I must labour to elude +The fiercely watchful multitude. +I in a shape to mock their sight +Must steal within the town by night, +Blind with my art the demons' eyes, +And thus achieve my enterprise. +How may I see, myself unseen +Of the fierce king, the captive queen, +And meet her in some lonely place, +With none beside her, face to face?" + + When the bright sun had left the skies +The Vánar dwarfed his mighty size, +And, in the straitest bounds restrained, +The bigness of a cat retained.(805) +Then, when the moon's soft light was spread, +Within the city's walls he sped. + + + + +Canto III. The Guardian Goddess. + + +There from the circling rampart's height +He gazed upon the wondrous sight; +Broad gates with burnished gold displayed, +And courts with turkises inlaid; +With gleaming silver, gems, and rows +Of crystal stairs and porticoes. +In semblance of a Rákshas dame +The city's guardian Goddess came,-- +For she with glances sure and keen +The entrance of a foe had seen,-- +And thus with fury in her eye +Addressed him with an angry cry: +"Who art thou? what has led thee, say, +Within these walls to find thy way? +Thou mayst not enter here in spite +Of Rávan and his warriors' might." +"And who art thou?" the Vánar cried, +By form and frown unterrified, +"Why hast thou met me by the gate, +And chid me thus infuriate?" + + He ceased: and Lanká made reply: +"The guardian of the town am I, +Who watch for ever to fulfil +My lord the Rákshas monarch's will. +But thou shalt fall this hour, and deep +Shall be thy never-ending sleep." + + Again he spake: "In spite of thee +This golden city will I see. +Her gates and towers, and all the pride +Of street and square from side to side, +And freely wander where I please +Amid her groves of flowering trees; +On all her beauties sate mine eye. +Then, as I came, will homeward hie." + + Swift with an angry roar she smote +With her huge hand the Vánar's throat. +The smitten Vánar, rage-impelled, +With fist upraised the monster felled: +But quick repented, stirred with shame +And pity for a vanquished dame, +When with her senses troubled, weak +With terror, thus she strove to speak: +"O spare me thou whose arm is strong: +O spare me, and forgive the wrong. +The brave that law will ne'er transgress +That spares a woman's helplessness. +Hear, best of Vánars, brave and bold, +What Brahmá's self of yore foretold; +"Beware," he said, "the fatal hour +When thou shalt own a Vánar's power. +Then is the giants' day of fear, +For terror and defeat are near." +Now, Vánar chief, o'ercome by thee, +I own the truth of heaven's decree. +For Sítá's sake will ruin fall +On Rávan, and his town, and all." + + + + +Canto IV. Within The City. + + +The guardian goddess thus subdued, +The Vánar chief his way pursued, +And reached the broad imperial street +Where fresh-blown flowers were bright and sweet. +The city seemed a fairer sky +Where cloud-like houses rose on high, +Whence the soft sound of tabors came +Through many a latticed window frame, +And ever and anon rang out +The merry laugh and joyous shout. +From house to house the Vánar went +And marked each varied ornament, +Where leaves and blossoms deftly strung +About the crystal columns hung. +Then soft and full and sweet and clear +The song of women charmed his ear, +And, blending with their dulcet tones, +Their anklets' chime and tinkling zones. +He heard the Rákshas minstrel sing +The praises of their matchless king; +And softly through the evening air +Came murmurings of text and prayer. +Here moved a priest with tonsured head, +And there an eager envoy sped, +Mid crowds with hair in matted twine +Clothed in the skins of deer and kine,-- +Whose only arms, which none might blame, +Were blades of grass and holy flame(806) +There savage warriors roamed in bands +With clubs and maces in their hands, +Some dwarfish forms, some huge of size, +With single ears and single eyes. +Some shone in glittering mail arrayed +With bow and mace and flashing blade; +Fiends of all shapes and every hue, +Some fierce and foul, some fair to view. +He saw the grisly legions wait +In strictest watch at Rávan's gate, +Whose palace on the mountain crest +Rose proudly towering o'er the rest, +Fenced with high ramparts from the foe, +And lotus-covered moats below. +But Hanumán, unhindered, found +Quick passage through the guarded bound, +Mid elephants of noblest breed, +And gilded car and neighing steed. + +[I omit Canto V. which corresponds to chapter XI. in Gorresio's edition. +That scholar justly observes: "The eleventh chapter, Description of +Evening, is certainly the work of the Rhapsodists and an interpolation of +later date. The chapter might be omitted without any injury to the action +of the poem, and besides the metre, style, conceits and images differ from +the general tenour of the poem; and that continual repetition of the same +sounds at the end of each hemistich which is not exactly rime, but +assonance, reveals the artificial labour of a more recent age." The +following sample will probably be enough. + +Fair shone the moon, as if to lend +His cheering light to guide a friend, +And, circled by the starry host, +Looked down upon the wild sea-coast. +The Vánar cheiftain raised his eyes, +And saw him sailing through the skies +Like a bright swan who joys to take +His pastime on a silver lake; +Fair moon that calms the mourner's pain. +Heaves up the waters of the main, +And o'er the life beneath him throws +A tender light of soft repose, +The charm that clings to Mandar's hill, +Gleams in the sea when winds are still, +And decks the lilly's opening flower, +Showed in that moon her sweetest power. + +I am unable to show the difference of style in a translation.] + + + + +Canto VI. The Court. + + +The palace gates were guarded well +By many a Rákshas sentinel, +And far within, concealed from view, +Were dames and female retinue +For charm of form and face renowned; +Whose tinkling armlets made a sound, +Clashed by the wearers in their glee, +Like music of a distant sea. +The hall beyond the palace gate, +Rich with each badge of royal state, +Where lines of noble courtiers stood, +Showed like a lion-guarded wood. +There the wild music rose and fell +Of drum and tabor and of shell, +Through chambers at each holy tide +By solemn worship sanctified. +Through grove and garden, undismayed, +From house to house the Vánar strayed, +And still his wondering glances bent +On terrace, dome, and battlement: +Then with a light and rapid tread +Prahasta's(807) home he visited, +And Kumbhakarna's(808) courtyard where +A cloudy pile rose high in air; +And, wandering o'er the hill, explored +The garden of each Rákshas lord. +Each court and grove he wandered through, +Then nigh to Rávan's palace drew. +She-demons watched it foul of face, +Each armed with sword and spear and mace, +And warrior fiends of every hue, +A strange and fearful retinue. +There elephants in many a row, +The terror of the stricken foe. +Huge Airávat,(809) deftly trained +In battle-fields, stood ready chained. +Fair litters on the ground were set +Adorned with gems and golden net. +Gay bloomy creepers clothed the walls; +Green bowers were there and picture halls, +And chambers made for soft delight. +Broad banners waved on every height. +And from the roof like Mandar's hill +The peacock's cry came loud and shrill.(810) + + + + +Canto VII. Rávan's Palace. + + +He passed within the walls and gazed +On gems and gold that round him blazed, +And many a latticed window bright +With turkis and with lazulite. +Through porch and ante-rooms he passed +Each richer, fairer than the last; +And spacious halls where lances lay, +And bows and shells, in fair array: +A glorious house that matched in show +All Paradise displayed below. +Upon the polished floor were spread +Fresh buds and blossoms white and red, +And women shone, a lovely crowd, +As lightning flashes through a cloud: +A palace splendid as the sky +Which moon and planets glorify: +Like earth whose towering hills unfold +Their zones and streaks of glittering gold; +Where waving on the mountain brows +The tall trees bend their laden boughs, +And every bough and tender spray +With a bright load of bloom is gay, +And every flower the breeze has bent +Fills all the region with its scent. +Near the tall palace pale of hue +Shone lovely lakes where lilies blew, +And lotuses with flower and bud +Gleamed on the bosom of the flood. +There shone with gems that flashed afar +The marvel of the Flower-named(811) car, +Mid wondrous dwellings still confessed +Supreme and nobler than the rest. +Thereon with wondrous art designed +Were turkis birds of varied kind. +And many a sculptured serpent rolled +His twisted coil in burnished gold. +And steeds were there of noblest form +With flying feet as fleet as storm: +And elephants with deftest skill +Stood sculptured by a silver rill, +Each bearing on his trunk a wreath +Of lilies from the flood beneath. +There Lakshmí,(812) beauty's heavenly queen, +Wrought by the artist's skill, was seen +Beside a flower-clad pool to stand +Holding a lotus in her hand. + + + + +Canto VIII. The Enchanted Car. + + +There gleamed the car with wealth untold +Of precious gems and burnished gold; +Nor could the Wind-God's son withdraw +His rapt gaze from the sight he saw, +By Visvakarmá's(813) self proclaimed +The noblest work his hand had framed. +Uplifted in the air it glowed +Bright as the sun's diurnal road. +The eye might scan the wondrous frame +And vainly seek one spot to blame, +So fine was every part and fair +With gems inlaid with lavish care. +No precious stones so rich adorn +The cars wherein the Gods are borne, +Prize of the all-resistless might +That sprang from pain and penance rite,(814) +Obedient to the master's will +It moved o'er wood and towering hill, +A glorious marvel well designed +By Visvakarmá's artist mind, +Adorned with every fair device +That decks the cars of Paradise. +Swift moving as the master chose +It flew through air or sank or rose,(815) +And in its fleetness left behind +The fury of the rushing wind: +Meet mansion for the good and great, +The holy, wise, and fortunate. +Throughout the chariot's vast extent +Were chambers wide and excellent, +All pure and lovely to the eyes +As moonlight shed from cloudless skies. +Fierce goblins, rovers of the night +Who cleft the clouds with swiftest flight +In countless hosts that chariot drew, +With earrings clashing as they flew. + + + + +Canto IX. The Ladies' Bower. + + +Where stately mansions rose around, +A palace fairer still he found, +Whose royal height and splendour showed +Where Rávan's self, the king, abode. +A chosen band with bow and sword +Guarded the palace of their lord, +Where Ráksha's dames of noble race +And many a princess fair of face +Whom Rávan's arm had torn away +From vanquished kings in slumber lay. +There jewelled arches high o'erhead +An ever-changing lustre shed +From ruby, pearl, and every gem +On golden pillars under them. +Delicious came the tempered air +That breathed a heavenly summer there, +Stealing through bloomy trees that bore +Each pleasant fruit in endless store. +No check was there from jealous guard, +No door was fast, no portal barred; +Only a sweet air breathed to meet +The stranger, as a host should greet +A wanderer of his kith and kin +And woo his weary steps within. +He stood within a spacious hall +With fretted roof and painted wall, +The giant Rávan's boast and pride, +Loved even as a lovely bride. +'Twere long to tell each marvel there, +The crystal floor, the jewelled stair, +The gold, the silver, and the shine +Of chrysolite and almandine. +There breathed the fairest blooms of spring; +There flashed the proud swan's silver wing, +The splendour of whose feathers broke +Through fragrant wreaths of aloe smoke. +"'Tis Indra's heaven," the Vánar cried, +Gazing in joy from side to side; +"The home of all the Gods is this, +The mansion of eternal bliss." +There were the softest carpets spread, +Delightful to the sight and tread, +Where many a lovely woman lay +O'ercome by sleep, fatigued with play. +The wine no longer cheered the feast, +The sound of revelry had ceased. +The tinkling feet no longer stirred, +No chiming of a zone was heard. +So when each bird has sought her nest, +And swans are mute and wild bees rest, +Sleep the fair lilies on the lake +Till the sun's kiss shall bid them wake. +Like the calm field of winter's sky +Which stars unnumbered glorify, +So shone and glowed the sumptuous room +With living stars that chased the gloom. +"These are the stars," the chieftain cried, +"In autumn nights that earth-ward glide, +In brighter forms to reappear +And shine in matchless lustre here." +With wondering eyes a while he viewed +Each graceful form and attitude. +One lady's head was backward thrown, +Bare was her arm and loose her zone. +The garland that her brow had graced +Hung closely round another's waist. +Here gleamed two little feet all bare +Of anklets that had sparkled there, +Here lay a queenly dame at rest +In all her glorious garments dressed. +There slept another whose small hand +Had loosened every tie and band, +In careless grace another lay +With gems and jewels cast away, +Like a young creeper when the tread +Of the wild elephant has spread +Confusion and destruction round, +And cast it flowerless to the ground. +Here lay a slumberer still as death, +Save only that her balmy breath +Raised ever and anon the lace +That floated o'er her sleeping face. +There, sunk in sleep, an amorous maid +Her sweet head on a mirror laid, +Like a fair lily bending till +Her petals rest upon the rill. +Another black-eyed damsel pressed +Her lute upon her heaving breast, +As though her loving arms were twined +Round him for whom her bosom pined. +Another pretty sleeper round +A silver vase her arms had wound, +That seemed, so fresh and fair and young +A wreath of flowers that o'er it hung. +In sweet disorder lay a throng +Weary of dance and play and song, +Where heedless girls had sunk to rest +One pillowed on another's breast, +Her tender cheek half seen beneath +Bed roses of the falling wreath, +The while her long soft hair concealed +The beauties that her friend revealed. +With limbs at random interlaced +Round arm and leg and throat and waist, +That wreath of women lay asleep +Like blossoms in a careless heap. + + + + +Canto X. Rávan Asleep. + + +Apart a dais of crystal rose +With couches spread for soft repose, +Adorned with gold and gems of price +Meet for the halls of Paradise. +A canopy was o'er them spread +Pale as the light the moon beams shed, +And female figures,(816) deftly planned, +The faces of the sleepers fanned, +There on a splendid couch, asleep +On softest skins of deer and sheep. +Dark as a cloud that dims the day +The monarch of the giants lay, +Perfumed with sandal's precious scent +And gay with golden ornament. +His fiery eyes in slumber closed, +In glittering robes the king reposed +Like Mandar's mighty hill asleep +With flowery trees that clothe his steep. +Near and more near the Vánar +The monarch of the fiends to view, +And saw the giant stretched supine +Fatigued with play and drunk with wine. +While, shaking all the monstrous frame, +His breath like hissing serpents' came. +With gold and glittering bracelets gay +His mighty arms extended lay +Huge as the towering shafts that bear +The flag of Indra high in air. +Scars by Airávat's tusk impressed +Showed red upon his shaggy breast. +And on his shoulders were displayed +The dints the thunder-bolt had made.(817) +The spouses of the giant king +Around their lord were slumbering, +And, gay with sparkling earrings, shone +Fair as the moon to look upon. +There by her husband's side was seen +Mandodarí the favourite queen, +The beauty of whose youthful face +Beamed a soft glory through the place. +The Vánar marked the dame more fair +Than all the royal ladies there, +And thought, "These rarest beauties speak +The matchless dame I come to seek. +Peerless in grace and splendour, she +The Maithil queen must surely be." + + + + +Canto XI. The Banquet Hall. + + +But soon the baseless thought was spurned +And longing hope again returned: +"No: Ráma's wife is none of these, +No careless dame that lives at ease. +Her widowed heart has ceased to care +For dress and sleep and dainty fare. +She near a lover ne'er would lie +Though Indra wooed her from the sky. +Her own, her only lord, whom none +Can match in heaven, is Raghu's son." + + Then to the banquet hall intent +On strictest search his steps he bent. +He passed within the door, and found +Fair women sleeping on the ground, +Where wearied with the song, perchance, +The merry game, the wanton dance, +Each girl with wine and sleep oppressed +Had sunk her drooping head to rest. +That spacious hall from side to side +With noblest fare was well supplied, +There quarters of the boar, and here +Roast of the buffalo and deer, +There on gold plate, untouched as yet +The peacock and the hen were set. +There deftly mixed with salt and curd +Was meat of many a beast and bird, +Of kid and porcupine and hare, +And dainties of the sea and air. +There wrought of gold, ablaze with shine +Of precious stones, were cups of wine. +Through court and bower and banquet hall +The Vánar passed and viewed them all; +From end to end, in every spot, +For Sítá searched, but found her not. + + + + +Canto XII. The Search Renewed. + + +Again the Vánar chief began +Each chamber, bower, and hall to scan. +In vain: he found not her he sought, +And pondered thus in bitter thought: +"Ah me the Maithil queen is slain: +She, ever true and free from stain, +The fiend's entreaty has denied, +And by his cruel hand has died. +Or has she sunk, by terror killed, +When first she saw the palace filled +With female monsters evil miened +Who wait upon the robber fiend? +No battle fought, no might displayed, +In vain this anxious search is made; +Nor shall my steps, made slow by shame, +Because I failed to find the dame, +Back to our lord the king be bent, +For he is swift to punishment. +In every bower my feet have been, +The dames of Rávan have I seen; +But Ráma's spouse I seek in vain, +And all my toil is fruitless pain. +How shall I meet the Vánar band +I left upon the ocean strand? +How, when they bid me speak, proclaim +These tidings of defeat and shame? +How shall I look on Angad's eye? +What words will Jámbaván reply? +Yet dauntless hearts will never fail +To win success though foes assail, +And I this sorrow will subdue +And search the palace through and through, +Exploring with my cautious tread +Each spot as yet unvisited." + + Again he turned him to explore +Each chamber, hall, and corridor, +And arbour bright with scented bloom, +And lodge and cell and picture-room. +With eager eye and noiseless feet +He passed through many a cool retreat +Where women lay in slumber drowned; +But Sítá still was nowhere found. + + + + +Canto XIII. Despair And Hope. + + +Then rapid as the lightning's flame +From Rávan's halls the Vánar came. +Each lingering hope was cold and dead, +And thus within his heart he said: +"Alas, my fruitless search is done: +Long have I toiled for Raghu's son; +And yet with all my care have seen +No traces of the ravished queen. +It may be, while the giant through +The lone air with his captive flew, +The Maithil lady, tender-souled, +Slipped struggling from the robber's hold, +And the wild sea is rolling now +O'er Sítá of the beauteous brow. +Or did she perish of alarm +When circled by the monster's arm? +Or crushed, unable to withstand +The pressure of that monstrous hand? +Or when she spurned his suit with scorn, +Her tender limbs were rent and torn. +And she, her virtue unsubdued, +Was slaughtered for the giant's food. +Shall I to Raghu's son relate +His well-beloved consort's fate, +My crime the same if I reveal +The mournful story or conceal? +If with no happier tale to tell +I seek our mountain citadel, +How shall I face our lord the king, +And meet his angry questioning? +How shall I greet my friends, and brook +The muttered taunt, the scornful look? +How to the son of Raghu go +And kill him with my tale of woe? +For sure the mournful tale I bear +Will strike him dead with wild despair. +And Lakshman ever fond and true, +Will, undivided, perish too. +Bharat will learn his brother's fate, +And die of grief disconsolate, +And sad Satrughna with a cry +Of anguish on his corpse will die. +Our king Sugríva, ever found +True to each bond in honour bound, +Will mourn the pledge he vainly gave, +And die with him he could not save. +Then Rumá his devoted wife +For her dead lord will leave her life, +And Tárá, widowed and forlorn, +Will die in anguish, sorrow-worn. +On Angad too the blow will fall +Killing the hope and joy of all. +The ruin of their prince and king +The Vánars' souls with woe will wring. +And each, overwhelmed with dark despair, +Will beat his head and rend his hair. +Each, graced and honoured long, will miss +His careless life of easy bliss, +In happy troops will play no more +On breezy rock and shady shore, +But with his darling wife and child +Will seek the mountain top, and wild +With hopeless desolation, throw +Himself, his wife, and babe, below. +Ah no: unless the dame I find +I ne'er will meet my Vánar kind. +Here rather in some distant dell +A lonely hermit will I dwell, +Where roots and berries will supply +My humble wants until I die; +Or on the shore will raise a pyre +And perish in the kindled fire. +Or I will strictly fast until +With slow decay my life I kill, +And ravening dogs and birds of air +The limbs of Hanumán shall tear. +Here will I die, but never bring +Destruction on my race and king. +But still unsearched one grove I see +With many a bright Asoka tree. +There will I enter in, and through +The tangled shade my search renew. +Be glory to the host on high, +The Sun and Moon who light the sky, +The Vasus(818) and the Maruts'(819) train, +Ádityas(820) and the Asvins(821) twain. +So may I win success, and bring +The lady back with triumphing." + + + + +Canto XIV. The Asoka Grove. + + +He cleared the barrier at a bound; +He stood within the pleasant ground, +And with delighted eyes surveyed +The climbing plants and varied shade, +He saw unnumbered trees unfold +The treasures of their pendent gold, +As, searching for the Maithil queen, +He strayed through alleys soft and green; +And when a spray he bent or broke +Some little bird that slept awoke. +Whene'er the breeze of morning blew, +Where'er a startled peacock flew, +The gaily coloured branches shed +Their flowery rain upon his head +That clung around the Vánar till +He seemed a blossom-covered hill,(822) +The earth, on whose fair bosom lay +The flowers that fell from every spray, +Was glorious as a lovely maid +In all her brightest robes arrayed, +He saw the breath of morning shake +The lilies on the rippling lake +Whose waves a pleasant lapping made +On crystal steps with gems inlaid. +Then roaming through the enchanted ground, +A pleasant hill the Vánar found, +And grottoes in the living stone +With grass and flowery trees o'ergrown. +Through rocks and boughs a brawling rill +Leapt from the bosom of the hill, +Like a proud beauty when she flies +From her love's arms with angry eyes. + + He clomb a tree that near him grew +And leafy shade around him threw. +"Hence," thought the Vánar, "shall I see +The Maithil dame, if here she be, +These lovely trees, this cool retreat +Will surely tempt her wandering feet. +Here the sad queen will roam apart. +And dream of Ráma in her heart." + + + + +Canto XV. Sítá. + + +Fair as Kailása white with snow +He saw a palace flash and glow, +A crystal pavement gem-inlaid, +And coral steps and colonnade, +And glittering towers that kissed the skies, +Whose dazzling splendour charmed his eyes. +There pallid, with neglected dress, +Watched close by fiend and giantess, +Her sweet face thin with constant flow +Of tears, with fasting and with woe; +Pale as the young moon's crescent when +The first faint light returns to men: +Dim as the flame when clouds of smoke +The latent glory hide and choke; +Like Rohiní the queen of stars +Oppressed by the red planet Mars; +From her dear friends and husband torn, +Amid the cruel fiends, forlorn, +Who fierce-eyed watch around her kept, +A tender woman sat and wept. +Her sobs, her sighs, her mournful mien, +Her glorious eyes, proclaimed the queen. +"This, this is she," the Vánar cried, +"Fair as the moon and lotus-eyed, +I saw the giant Rávan bear +A captive through the fields of air. +Such was the beauty of the dame; +Her form, her lips, her eyes the same. +This peerless queen whom I behold +Is Ráma's wife with limbs of gold. +Best of the sons of men is he, +And worthy of her lord is she." + + + + +Canto XVI. Hanumán's Lament. + + +Then, all his thoughts on Sítá bent, +The Vánar chieftain made lament: +"The queen to Ráma's soul endeared, +By Lakshman's pious heart revered, +Lies here,--for none may strive with Fate, +A captive, sad and desolate. +The brothers' might full well she knows, +And bravely bears the storm of woes, +As swelling Gangá in the rains +The rush of every flood sustains. +Her lord, for her, fierce Báli slew, +Virádha's monstrous might o'erthrew, +For her the fourteen thousand slain +In Janasthán bedewed the plain. +And if for her Ikshváku's son +Destroyed the world 'twere nobly done. +This, this is she, so far renowned, +Who sprang from out the furrowed ground,(823) +Child of the high-souled king whose sway +The men of Míthilá obey: +The glorious lady wooed and won +By Dasaratha's noblest son; +And now these sad eyes look on her +Mid hostile fiends a prisoner. +From home and every bliss she fled +By wifely love and duty led, +And heedless of a wanderer's woes, +A life in lonely forests chose. +This, this is she so fair of mould. +Whose limbs are bright as burnished gold. +Whose voice was ever soft and mild, +Who sweetly spoke and sweetly smiled. +O, what is Ráma's misery! how +He longs to see his darling now! +Pining for one of her fond looks +As one athirst for water brooks. +Absorbed in woe the lady sees +No Rákshas guard, no blooming trees. +Her eyes are with her thoughts, and they +Are fixed on Ráma far away." + + + + +Canto XVII. Sítá's Guard. + + +His pitying eyes with tears bedewed, +The weeping queen again he viewed, +And saw around the prisoner stand +Her demon guard, a fearful band. +Some earless, some with ears that hung +Low as their feet and loosely swung: +Some fierce with single ears and eyes, +Some dwarfish, some of monstrous size: +Some with their dark necks long and thin +With hair upon the knotty skin: +Some with wild locks, some bald and bare, +Some covered o'er with bristly hair: +Some tall and straight, some bowed and bent +With every foul disfigurement: +All black and fierce with eyes of fire, +Ruthless and stern and swift to ire: +Some with the jackal's jaw and nose, +Some faced like boars and buffaloes: +Some with the heads of goats and kine, +Of elephants, and dogs, and swine: +With lions' lips and horses' brows, +They walked with feet of mules and cows: +Swords, maces, clubs, and spears they bore +In hideous hands that reeked with gore, +And, never sated, turned afresh +To bowls of wine and piles of flesh. +Such were the awful guards who stood +Round Sítá in that lovely wood, +While in her lonely sorrow she +Wept sadly neath a spreading tree. +He watched the spouse of Ráma there +Regardless of her tangled hair, +Her jewels stripped from neck and limb, +Decked only with her love of him. + + + + +Canto XVIII. Rávan. + + +While from his shelter in the boughs +The Vánar looked on Ráma's spouse +He heard the gathered giants raise +The solemn hymn of prayer and praise.-- +Priests skilled in rite and ritual, who +The Vedas and their branches(824) knew. +Then, as loud strains of music broke +His sleep, the giant monarch woke. +Swift to his heart the thought returned +Of the fair queen for whom he burned; +Nor could the amorous fiend control +The passion that absorbed his soul. +In all his brightest garb arrayed +He hastened to that lovely shade, +Where glowed each choicest flower and fruit, +And the sweet birds were never mute, +And tall deer bent their heads to drink +On the fair streamlet's grassy brink. +Near that Asoka grove he drew,-- +A hundred dames his retinue. +Like Indra with the thousand eyes +Girt with the beauties of the skies. +Some walked beside their lord to hold +The chouries, fans, and lamps of gold. +And others purest water bore +In golden urns, and paced before. +Some carried, piled on golden plates, +Delicious food of dainty cates; +Some wine in massive bowls whereon +The fairest gems resplendent shone. +Some by the monarch's side displayed, +Wrought like a swan, a silken shade: +Another beauty walked behind, +The sceptre to her care assigned. +Around the monarch gleamed the crowd +As lightnings flash about a cloud, +And each made music as she went +With zone and tinkling ornament. +Attended thus in royal state +The monarch reached the garden gate, +While gold and silver torches, fed +With scented oil a soft light shed.(825) +He, while the flame of fierce desire +Burnt in his eyes like kindled fire, +Seemed Love incarnate in his pride, +His bow and arrows laid aside.(826) +His robe, from spot and blemish free +Like Amrit foamy from the sea,(827) +Hung down in many a loosened fold +Inwrought with flowers and bright with gold. +The Vánar from his station viewed, +Amazed, the wondrous multitude, +Where, in the centre of that ring +Of noblest women, stood the king, +As stands the full moon fair to view, +Girt by his starry retinue. + + + + +Canto XIX. Sítá's Fear. + + +Then o'er the lady's soul and frame +A sudden fear and trembling came, +When, glowing in his youthful pride, +She saw the monarch by her side. +Silent she sat, her eyes depressed, +Her soft arms folded o'er her breast, +And,--all she could,--her beauties screened +From the bold gazes of the fiend. +There where the wild she-demons kept +Their watch around, she sighed and wept. +Then, like a severed bough, she lay +Prone on the bare earth in dismay. +The while her thoughts on love's fleet wings +Flew to her lord the best of kings. +She fell upon the ground, and there +Lay struggling with her wild despair, +Sad as a lady born again +To misery and woe and pain, +Now doomed to grief and low estate, +Once noble fair and delicate: +Like faded light of holy lore, +Like Hope when all her dreams are o'er; +Like ruined power and rank debased, +Like majesty of kings disgraced: +Like worship foiled by erring slips, +The moon that labours in eclipse; +A pool with all her lilies dead, +An army when its king has fled: +So sad and helpless wan and worn, +She lay among the fiends forlorn. + + + + +Canto XX. Rávan's Wooing. + + +With amorous look and soft address +The fiend began his suit to press: +"Why wouldst thou, lady lotus-eyed, +From my fond glance those beauties hide? +Mine eager suit no more repel: +But love me, for I love thee well. +Dismiss, sweet dame, dismiss thy fear; +No giant and no man is near. +Ours is the right by force to seize +What dames soe'er our fancy please.(828) +But I with rude hands will not touch +A lady whom I love so much. +Fear not, dear queen: no fear is nigh: +Come, on thy lover's love rely, +Some little sign of favor show, +Nor lie enamoured of thy woe. +Those limbs upon that cold earth laid, +Those tresses twined in single braid,(829) +The fast and woe that wear thy frame, +Beseem not thee, O beauteous dame. +For thee the fairest wreaths were meant, +The sandal and the aloe's scent, +Rich ornaments and pearls of price, +And vesture meet for Paradise. +With dainty cates shouldst thou be fed, +And rest upon a sumptuous bed. +And festive joys to thee belong, +The music, and the dance and song. +Rise, pearl of women, rise and deck +With gems and chains thine arms and neck. +Shall not the dame I love be seen +In vesture worthy of a queen? +Methinks when thy sweet form was made +His hand the wise Creator stayed; +For never more did he design +A beauty meet to rival thine. +Come, let us love while yet we may, +For youth will fly and charms decay, +Come cast thy grief and fear aside, +And be my love, my chosen bride. +The gems and jewels that my hand +Has reft from every plundered land,-- +To thee I give them all this day, +And at thy feet my kingdom lay. +The broad rich earth will I o'errun, +And leave no town unconquered, none; +Then of the whole an offering make +To Janak,(830) dear, for thy sweet sake. +In all the world no power I see +Of God or man can strive with me. +Of old the Gods and Asurs set +In terrible array I met: +Their scattered hosts to earth I beat, +And trod their flags beneath my feet. +Come, taste of bliss and drink thy fill, +And rule the slave who serves thy will. +Think not of wretched Ráma: he +Is less than nothing now to thee. +Stript of his glory, poor, dethroned, +A wanderer by his friends disowned, +On the cold earth he lays his head, +Or is with toil and misery dead. +And if perchance he lingers yet, +His eyes on thee shall ne'er be set. +Could he, that mighty monarch, who +Was named Hiranyakasipu, +Could he who wore the garb of gold +Win Glory back from Indra's hold?(831) +O lady of the lovely smile, +Whose eyes the sternest heart beguile, +In all thy radiant beauty dressed +My heart and soul thou ravishest. +What though thy robe is soiled and worn, +And no bright gems thy limbs adorn, +Thou unadorned art dearer far +Than all my loveliest consorts are. +My royal home is bright and fair; +A thousand beauties meet me there, +But come, my glorious love, and be +The queen of all those dames and me." + + + + +Canto XXI. Sítá's Scorn. + + +She thought upon her lord and sighed, +And thus in gentle tones replied: +"Beseems thee not, O King, to woo +A matron, to her husband true. +Thus vainly one might hope by sin +And evil deeds success to win. +Shall I, so highly born, disgrace +My husband's house, my royal race? +Shall I, a true and loyal dame, +Defile my soul with deed of shame?" + + Then on the king her back she turned, +And answered thus the prayer she spurned: +"Turn, Rávan, turn thee from thy sin; +Seek virtue's paths and walk therein. +To others dames be honour shown; +Protect them as thou wouldst thine own. +Taught by thyself, from wrong abstain +Which, wrought on thee, thy heart would pain.(832) +Beware: this lawless love of thine +Will ruin thee and all thy line; +And for thy sin, thy sin alone, +Will Lanká perish overthrown. +Dream not that wealth and power can sway +My heart from duty's path to stray. +Linked like the Day-God and his shine, +I am my lord's and he is mine. +Repent thee of thine impious deed; +To Ráma's side his consort lead. +Be wise; the hero's friendship gain, +Nor perish in his fury slain. +Go, ask the God of Death to spare, +Or red bolt flashing through the air, +But look in vain for spell or charm +To stay my Ráma's vengeful arm. +Thou, when the hero bends his bow, +Shalt hear the clang that heralds woe, +Loud as the clash when clouds are rent +And Indra's bolt to earth is sent. +Then shall his furious shafts be sped, +Each like a snake with fiery head, +And in their flight shall hiss and flame +Marked with the mighty archer's name.(833) +Then in the fiery deluge all +Thy giants round their king shall fall." + + + + +Canto XXII. Rávan's Threat. + + +Then anger swelled in Rávan's breast, +Who fiercely thus the dame addressed: +"'Tis ever thus: in vain we sue +To woman, and her favour woo. +A lover's humble words impel +Her wayward spirit to rebel. +The love of thee that fills my soul +Still keeps my anger in control, +As charioteers with bit and rein +The swerving of the steed restrain. +The love that rules me bids me spare +Thy forfeit life, O thou most fair. +For this, O Sítá, have I borne +The keen reproach, the bitter scorn, +And the fond love thou boastest yet +For that poor wandering anchoret; +Else had the words which thou hast said +Brought death upon thy guilty head. +Two months, fair dame, I grant thee still +To bend thee to thy lover's will. +If when that respite time is fled +Thou still refuse to share my bed, +My cooks shall mince thy limbs with steel +And serve thee for my morning meal."(834) + + The minstrel daughters of the skies +Looked on her woe with pitying eyes, +And sun-bright children of the Gods(835) +Consoled the queen with smiles and nods. +She saw, and with her heart at ease, +Addressed the fiend in words like these; +"Hast thou no friend to love thee, none +In all this isle to bid thee shun +The ruin which thy crime will bring +On thee and thine, O impious King? +Who in all worlds save thee could woo +Me, Ráma's consort pure and true, +As though he tempted with his love +Queen Sachí(836) on her throne above? +How canst thou hope, vile wretch, to fly +The vengeance that e'en now is nigh, +When thou hast dared, untouched by shame, +To press thy suit on Ráma's dame? +Where woods are thick and grass is high +A lion and a hare may lie; +My Ráma is the lion, thou +Art the poor hare beneath the bough. +Thou railest at the lord of men, +But wilt not stand within his ken. +What! is that eye unstricken yet +Whose impious glance on me was set? +Still moves that tongue that would not spare +The wife of Dasaratha's heir?" + + Then, hissing like a furious snake, +The fiend again to Sítá spake: +"Deaf to all prayers and threats art thou, +Devoted to thy senseless vow. +No longer respite will I give, +And thou this day shalt cease to live; +For I, as sunlight kills the morn, +Will slay thee for thy scathe and scorn." + + The Rákshas guard was summoned: all +The monstrous crew obeyed the call, +And hastened to the king to take +The orders which he fiercely spake: +"See that ye guard her well, and tame, +Like some wild thing, the stubborn dame, +Until her haughty soul be bent +By mingled threat and blandishment."(837) + + The monsters heard: away he strode, +And passed within his queens' abode. + + + + +Canto XXIII. The Demons' Threats. + + +Then round the helpless Sítá drew +With fiery eyes the hideous crew, +And thus assailed her, all and each, +With insult, taunt, and threatening speech: +"What! can it be thou prizest not +This happy chance, this glorious lot, +To be the chosen wife of one +So strong and great, Pulastya's son? +Pulastya--thus have sages told-- +Is mid the Lords of Life(838) enrolled. +Lord Brahmá's mind-born son was he, +Fourth of that glorious company. +Visravas from Pulastya sprang,-- +Through all the worlds his glory rang. +And of Visravas, large-eyed dame! +Our king the mighty Rávan came. +His happy consort thou mayst be: +Scorn not the words we say to thee." + + One awful demon, fiery-eyed, +Stood by the Maithil queen and cried: +'Come and be his, if thou art wise, +Who smote the sovereign of the skies, +And made the thirty Gods and three,(839) +O'ercome in furious battle, flee. +Thy lover turns away with scorn +From wives whom grace and youth adorn. +Thou art his chosen consort, thou +Shall be his pride and darling now." + + Another, Vikatá by name, +In words like these addressed the dame: +"The king whose blows, in fury dealt, +The Nágas(840) and Gandharvas(841) felt, +In battle's fiercest brunt subdued, +Has stood by thee and humbly wooed. +And wilt thou in thy folly miss +The glory of a love like this? +Scared by his eye the sun grows chill, +The wanderer wind is hushed and still. +The rains at his command descend, +And trees with new-blown blossoms bend. +His word the hosts of demons fear, +And wilt thou, dame, refuse to hear? +Be counselled; with his will comply, +Or, lady, thou shalt surely die." + + + + +Canto XXIV. Sítá's Reply. + + +Still with reproaches rough and rude +Those fiends the gentle queen pursued: +"What! can so fair a life displease, +To dwell with him in joyous ease? +Dwell in his bowers a happy queen +In silk and gold and jewels' sheen? +Still must thy woman fancy cling +To Ráma and reject our king? +Die in thy folly, or forget +That wretched wandering anchoret. +Come, Sítá, in luxurious bowers +Spend with our lord thy happy hours; +The mighty lord who makes his own +The treasures of the worlds o'erthrown." + + Then, as a tear bedewed her eye, +The hapless lady made reply: +"I loathe, with heart and soul detest +The shameful life your words suggest. +Eat, if you will, this mortal frame: +My soul rejects the sin and shame. +A homeless wanderer though he be, +In him my lord, my life I see, +And, till my earthly days be done, +Will cling to great Ikshváku's son." + + Then with fierce eyes on Sítá set +They cried again with taunt and threat: +Each licking with her fiery tongue +The lip that to her bosom hung, +And menacing the lady's life +With axe, or spear or murderous knife: +"Hear, Sítá, and our words obey, +Or perish by our hands to-day. +Thy love for Raghu's son forsake, +And Rávan for thy husband take, +Or we will rend thy limbs apart +And banquet on thy quivering heart. +Now from her body strike the head, +And tell the king the dame is dead. +Then by our lord's commandment she +A banquet for our band shall be. +Come, let the wine be quickly brought +That frees each heart from saddening thought. +Then to the western gate repair, +And we will dance and revel there." + + + + +Canto XXV. Sítá's Lament. + + +On the bare earth the lady sank, +And trembling from their presence shrank +Like a strayed fawn, when night is dark, +And hungry wolves around her bark. +Then to a shady tree she crept, +And thought upon her lord and wept. +By fear and bitter woe oppressed +She bathed the beauties of her breast +With her hot tears' incessant flow, +And found no respite from her woe. +As shakes a plantain in the breeze +She shook, and fell on trembling knees; +While at each demon's furious look +Her cheek its native hue forsook. +She lay and wept and made her moan +In sorrow's saddest undertone, +And, wild with grief, with fear appalled, +On Ráma and his brother called: +"O dear Kausalyá,(842) hear me cry! +Sweet Queen Sumitrá,(843) list my sigh! +True is the saw the wise declare: +Death comes not to relieve despair. +'Tis vain for dame or man to pray; +Death will not hear before his day; +Since I, from Ráma's sight debarred, +And tortured by my cruel guard, +Still live in hopeless woe to grieve +And loathe the life I may not leave, +Here, like a poor deserted thing, +My limbs upon the ground I fling, +And, like a bark beneath the blast, +Shall sink oppressed with woes at last. +Ah, blest are they, supremely blest, +Whose eyes upon my lord may rest; +Who mark his lion port, and hear +His gentle speech that charms the ear. +Alas, what antenatal crime, +What trespass of forgotten time +Weighs on my soul, and bids me bow +Beneath this load of misery now?" + + + + +Canto XXVI. Sítá's Lament. + + +"I Ráma's wife, on that sad day, +By Rávan's arm was borne away, +Seized, while I sat and feared no ill, +By him who wears each form at will. +A helpless captive, left forlorn +To demons' threats and taunts and scorn, +Here for my lord I weep and sigh, +And worn with woe would gladly die. +For what is life to me afar +From Ráma of the mighty car? +The robber in his fruitless sin +Would hope his captive's love to win. +My meaner foot shall never touch +The demon whom I loathe so much. +The senseless fool! he knows me not, +Nor the proud soul his love would blot. +Yea, limb from limb will I be rent, +But never to his prayer consent; +Be burnt and perish in the fire, +But never meet his base desire. +My lord was grateful, true and wise, +And looked on woe with pitying eyes; +But now, recoiling from the strife +He pities not his captive wife. +Alone in Janasthán he slew +The thousands of the Rákshas crew. +His arm was strong, his heart was brave, +Why comes he not to free and save? +Why blame my lord in vain surmise? +He knows not where his lady lies. +O, if he knew, o'er land and sea +His feet were swift to set me free; +This Lanká, girdled by the deep, +Would fall consumed, a shapeless heap, +And from each ruined home would rise +A Rákshas widow's groans and cries." + + + + +Canto XXVII. Trijatá's Dream. + + +Their threats unfeared, their counsel spurned, +The demons' breasts with fury burned. +Some sought the giant king to bear +The tale of Sítá's fixt despair. +With threats and taunts renewed the rest +Around the weeping lady pressed. +But Trijatá, of softer mould, +A Rákshas matron wise and old, +With pity for the captive moved, +In words like these the fiends reproved: +"Me, me," she cried, "eat me, but spare +The spouse of Dasaratha's heir. +Last night I dreamt a dream; and still +The fear and awe my bosom chill; +For in that dream I saw foreshown +Our race by Ráma's hand o'erthrown. +I saw a chariot high in air, +Of ivory exceeding fair. +A hundred steeds that chariot drew +As swiftly through the clouds it flew, +And, clothed in white, with wreaths that shone, +The sons of Raghu rode thereon. +I looked and saw this lady here, +Clad in the purest white, appear +High on the snow white hill whose feet +The angry waves of ocean beat. +And she and Ráma met at last +Like light and sun when night is past. +Again I saw them side by side. +On Rávan's car they seemed to ride, +And with the princely Lakshman flee +To northern realms beyond the sea. +Then Rávan, shaved and shorn, besmeared +With oil from head to foot, appeared. +He quaffed, he raved: his robes were red: +Fierce was his eye, and bare his head. +I saw him from his chariot thrust; +I saw him rolling in the dust. +A woman came and dragged away +The stricken giant where he lay, +And on a car which asses drew +The monarch of our race she threw. +He rose erect, he danced and laughed, +With thirsty lips the oil he quaffed, +Then with wild eyes and streaming mouth +Sped on the chariot to the south.(844) +Then, dropping oil from every limb, +His sons the princes followed him, +And Kumbhakarna,(845) shaved and shorn, +Was southward on a camel borne. +Then royal Lanká reeled and fell +With gate and tower and citadel. +This ancient city, far-renowned: +All life within her walls was drowned; +And the wild waves of ocean rolled +O'er Lanká and her streets of gold. +Warned by these signs I bid you fly; +Or by the hand of Ráma die, +Whose vengeance will not spare the life +Of one who vexed his faithful wife. +Your bitter taunts and threats forgo: +Comfort the lady in her woe, +And humbly pray her to forgive; +For so you may be spared and live." + +[I omit the 28th and 29th Cantos as an unmistakeable interpolation. +Instead of advancing the story it goes back to Canto XVII, containing a +lamentation of Sítá after Rávan has left her, and describes the the +auspicious signs sent to cheer her, the throbbing of her left eye, arm, +and side. The Canto is found in the Bengal recension. Gorresio translates +it. and observes: "I think that Chapter XXVIII.--The Auspicious Signs--is an +addition, a later interpolation by the Rhapsodists. It has no bond of +connexion either with what precedes or follows it, and may be struck out +not only without injury to, but positively to the advantage of the poem. +The metre in which this chapter is written differs from that which is +generally adopted in the course of the poem."] + + + + +Canto XXX. Hanumán's Deliberation. + + +The Vánar watched concealed: each word +Of Sítá and the fiends he heard, +And in a maze of anxious thought +His quick-conceiving bosom wrought. +"At length my watchful eyes have seen, +Pursued so long, the Maithil queen, +Sought by our Vánar hosts in vain +From east to west, from main to main. +A cautious spy have I explored +The palace of the Rákhshas lord, +And thoroughly learned, concealed from sight, +The giant monarch's power and might. +And now my task must be to cheer +The royal dame who sorrows here. +For if I go, and soothe her not, +A captive in this distant spot, +She, when she finds no comfort nigh, +Will sink beneath her woes and die. +How shall my tale, if unconsoled +I leave her, be to Ráma told? +How shall I answer Raghu's son, +"No message from my darling, none?" +The husband's wrath, to fury fanned, +Will scorch me lifeless where I stand, +Or if I urge my lord the king +To Lanká's isle his hosts to bring, +In vain will be his zeal, in vain +The toil, the danger, and the pain. +Yea, this occasion must I seize +That from her guard the lady frees,(846) +To win her ear with soft address +And whisper hope in dire distress. +Shall I, a puny Vánar, choose +The Sanskrit men delight to use? +If, as a man of Bráhman kind, +I speak the tongue by rules refined, +The lady, yielding to her fears, +Will think 'tis Rávan's voice she hears. +I must assume my only plan-- +The language of a common(847) man. +Yet, if the lady sees me nigh, +In terror she will start and cry; +And all the demon band, alarmed, +Will come with various weapons armed, +With their wild shouts the grove will fill, +And strive to take me, or to kill. +And, at my death or capture, dies +The hope of Ráma's enterprise. +For none can leap, save only me, +A hundred leagues across the sea. +It is a sin in me, I own, +To talk with Janak's child alone. +Yet greater is the sin if I +Be silent, and the lady die. +First I will utter Ráma's name, +And laud the hero's gifts and fame. +Perchance the name she holds so dear +Will soothe the faithful lady's fear." + + + + +Canto XXXI. Hanumán's Speech. + + +Then in sweet accents low and mild +The Vánar spoke to Janak's child: +"A noble king, by sin unstained, +The mighty Dasaratha reigned. +Lord of the warrior's car and steed, +The pride of old Ikshváku's seed. +A faithful friend, a blameless king, +Protector of each living thing. +A glorious monarch, strong to save, +Blest with the bliss he freely gave. +His son, the best of all who know +The science of the bended bow, +Was moon-bright Ráma, brave and strong, +Who loved the right and loathed the wrong, +Who ne'er from kingly duty swerved, +Loved by the lands his might preserved. +His feet the path of law pursued; +His arm rebellious foes subdued. +His sire's command the prince obeyed +And, banished, sought the forest shade, +Where with his wife and brother he +Wandered a saintly devotee. +There as he roamed the wilds he slew +The bravest of the Rákshas crew. +The giant king the prince beguiled, +And stole his consort, Janak's child. +Then Ráma roamed the country round, +And a firm friend, Sugríva, found, +Lord of the Vánar race, expelled +From his own realm which Báli held, +He conquered Báli and restored +The kingdom to the rightful lord. +Then by Sugríva's high decree +The Vánar legions searched for thee, +Sampáti's counsel bade me leap +A hundred leagues across the deep. +And now my happy eyes have seen +At last the long-sought Maithil queen. +Such was the form, the eye, the grace +Of her whom Ráma bade me trace." + + He ceased: her flowing locks she drew +To shield her from a stranger's view; +Then, trembling in her wild surprise, +Raised to the tree her anxious eyes. + + + + +Canto XXXII. Sítá's Doubt. + + +Her eyes the Maithil lady raised +And on the monkey speaker gazed. +She looked, and trembling at the sight +Wept bitter tears in wild affright. +She shrank a while with fear distraught, +Then, nerved again, the lady thought: +"Is this a dream mine eyes have seen, +This creature, by our laws unclean? +O, may the Gods keep Ráma, still, +And Lakshman, and my sire, from ill! +It is no dream: I have not slept, +But, trouble-worn, have watched and wept +Afar from that dear lord of mine +For whom in ceaseless woe I pine, +No art may soothe my wild distress +Or lull me to forgetfulness. +I see but him: my lips can frame +No syllable but Ráma's name. +Each sight I see, each sound I hear, +Brings Ráma to mine eye or ear, +The wish was in my heart, and hence +The sweet illusion mocked my sense. +'Twas but a phantom of the mind, +And yet the voice was soft and kind. +Be glory to the Eternal Sire,(848) +Be glory to the Lord of Fire, +The mighty Teacher in the skies,(849) +And Indra with his thousand eyes, +And may they grant the truth to be +E'en as the words that startled me." + + + + +Canto XXXIII. The Colloquy. + + +Down from the tree Hanumán came +And humbly stood before the dame. +Then joining reverent palm to palm +Addressed her thus with words of balm: +"Why should the tears of sorrow rise, +Sweet lady, to those lovely eyes, +As when the wind-swept river floods +Two half expanded lotus buds? +Who art thou, O most fair of face? +Of Asur,(850) or celestial race? +Did Nága mother give thee birth? +For sure thou art no child of earth. +Do Rudras(851) claim that heavenly form? +Or the swift Gods(852) who ride the storm? +Or art thou Rohiní(853) the blest, +That star more lovely than the rest,-- +Reft from the Moon thou lovest well +And doomed a while on earth to dwell? +Or canst thou, fairest wonder, be +The starry queen Arundhatí,(854) +Fled in thy wrath or jealous pride +From her dear lord Vasishtha's side? +Who is the husband, father, son +Or brother, O thou loveliest one, +Gone from this world in heaven to dwell, +For whom those eyes with weeping swell? +Yet, by the tears those sweet eyes shed, +Yet, by the earth that bears thy tread,(855) +By calling on a monarch's name, +No Goddess but a royal dame. +Art thou the queen, fair lady, say, +Whom Rávan stole and bore away? +Yea, by that agony of woe, +That form unrivalled here below, +That votive garb, thou art, I ween, +King Janak's child and Ráma's queen." + + Hope at the name of Ráma woke, +And thus the gentle lady spoke: +"I am that Sítá wooed and won +By Dasaratha's royal son, +The noblest of Ikshváku's line; +And every earthly joy was mine. +But Ráma left his royal home +In Dandak's tangled wilds to roam. +Where with Sumitrá's son and me, +He lived a saintly devotee. +The giant Rávan came with guile +And bore me thence to Lanká's isle. +Some respite yet the fiend allows, +Two months of life, to Ráma's spouse. +Two moons of hopeless woe remain, +And then the captive will be slain." + + + + +Canto XXXIV. Hanumán's Speech. + + +Thus spoke the dame in mournful mood, +And Hanumán his speech renewed: +"O lady, by thy lord's decree +I come a messenger to thee. +Thy lord is safe with steadfast friends, +And greeting to his queen he sends, +And Lakshman, ever faithful bows +His reverent head to Ráma's spouse." + + Through all her frame the rapture ran, +As thus again the dame began: +"Now verily the truth I know +Of the wise saw of long ago: +"Once only in a hundred years +True joy to living man appears." + + He marked her rapture-beaming hue, +And nearer to the lady drew, +But at each onward step he took +Suspicious fear her spirit shook. +"Alas, Alas," she cried in fear. +"False is the tale I joyed to hear. +'Tis Rávan, 'tis the fiend, who tries +To mock me with a new disguise. +If thou, to wring my woman's heart, +Hast changed thy shape by magic art, +And wouldst a helpless dame beguile, +The wicked deed is doubly vile. +But no: that fiend thou canst not be: +Such joy I had from seeing thee. +But if my fancy does not err, +And thou art Ráma's messenger, +The glories of my lord repeat: +For to these ears such words are sweet." + + The Vánar knew the lady's thought,(856) +And gave the answer fondly sought: +"Bright as the sun that lights the sky +Dear as the Moon to every eye. +He scatters blessings o'er the land +Like bounties from Vaisravan's(857) hand. +Like Vishnu strong and unsubdued, +Unmatched in might and fortitude. +Wise, truthful as the Lord of Speech, +With gentle words he welcomes each. +Of noblest mould and form is he, +Like love's incarnate deity. +He quells the fury of the foe, +And strikes when justice prompts the blow. +Safe in the shadow of his arm +The world is kept from scathe and harm. +Now soon shall Rávan rue his theft, +And fall, of realm and life bereft. +For Ráma's wrathful hand shall wing +His shafts against the giant king. +The day, O Maithil Queen, is near +When he and Lakshman will be here, +And by their side Sugríva lead +His countless hosts of Vánar breed. +Sugríva's servant, I, by name +Hanumán, by his order came. +With desperate leap I crossed the sea +To Lanká's isle in search of thee, +No traitor, gentle dame, am I: +Upon my word and faith rely." + + + + +Canto XXXV. Hanumán's Speech. + + +With joyous heart she heard him tell +Of the great lord she loved so well, +And in sweet accents, soft and low, +Spoke, half forgetful of her woe: +"How didst thou stand by Ráma's side? +How came my lord and thou allied? +How met the people of the wood +With men on terms of brotherhood? +Declare each grace and regal sign +That decks the lords of Raghu's line. +Each circumstance and look relate: +Tell Ráma's form and speech, and gait." + + "Thy fear and doubt," he cried, "dispelled, +Hear, lady, what mine eyes beheld. +Hear the imperial signs that grace +The glory of Ikshváku's race. +With moon-bright face and lotus eyes, +Most beautiful and good and wise, +With sun-like glory round his head, +Long-suffering as the earth we tread, +He from all foes his realm defends. +Yea, o'er the world his care extends. +He follows right in all his ways, +And ne'er from royal duty strays. +He knows the lore that strengthens kings; +His heart to truth and honour clings. +Each grace and gift of form and mind +Adorns that prince of human kind; +And virtues like his own endue +His brother ever firm and true. +O'er all the land they roamed distraught, +And thee with vain endeavour sought, +Until at length their wandering feet +Trod wearily our wild retreat. +Our banished king Sugríva spied +The princes from the mountain side. +By his command I sought the pair +And led them to our monarch there. +Thus Ráma and Sugríva met, +And joined the bonds that knit them yet, +When each besought the other's aid, +And friendship and alliance made. +An arrow launched from Ráma's bow +Laid Báli dead, Sugríva's foe. +Then by commandment of our lord +The Vánar hosts each land explored. +We reached the coast: I crossed the sea +And found my way at length to thee."(858) + + + + +Canto XXXVI. Ráma's Ring. + + +"Receive," he cried, "this precious ring,(859) +Sure token from thy lord the king: +The golden ring he wont to wear: +See, Ráma's name engraven there." +Then, as she took the ring he showed, +The tears that spring of rapture flowed. +She seemed to touch the hand that sent +The dearly valued ornament, +And with her heart again at ease, +Replied in gentle words like these: +"O thou, whose soul no fears deter, +Wise, brave, and faithful messenger! +And hast thou dared, o'er wave and foam, +To seek me in the giants' home? +In thee, true messenger, I find +The noblest of thy woodland kind. +Who couldst, unmoved by terror, brook +On Rávan, king of fiends, to look. +Now may we commune here as friends, +For he whom royal Ráma sends +Must needs be one in danger tried, +A valiant, wise, and faithful guide. +Say, is it well with Ráma still? +Lives Lakshman yet untouched by ill? +Then why should Ráma's hand be slow +To free his consort from her woe? +Why spare to burn, in search of me, +The land encircled by the sea? +Can Bharat send no army out +With banners, cars and battle shout? +Cannot thy king Sugríva lend +His legions to assist his friend?" + + His hands upon his head he laid +And thus again his answer made: +"Not yet has Ráma learnt where lies +His lady of the lotus eyes, +Or he like Indra from the sky +To Sachí's(860) aid, to thee would fly. +Soon will he hear the tale, and then, +Roused to revenge, the lord of men +Will to the giants' island lead +Fierce myriads of the woodland breed, +Bridging his conquering way, and make +The town a ruin for thy sake. +Believe my words, sweet dame; I swear +By roots and fruit, my woodland fare, +By Meru's peak and Vindhva's chain, +And Mandar of the Milky Main, +Soon shalt thou see thy lord, though now +He waits upon Prasravan's(861) brow, +Come glorious as the breaking morn, +Like Indra on Airávat(862) borne. +For thee he looks with longing eyes; +The wood his scanty food supplies. +For thee his brow is pale and worn, +For thee are meat and wine forsworn. +Thine image in his heart he keeps, +For thee by night he wakes and weeps. +Or if perchance his eyes he close +And win brief respite from his woes, +E'en then the name of Sítá slips +In anguish from his murmuring lips. +If lovely flowers or fruit he sees, +Which women love, upon the trees, +To thee, to thee his fancy flies. +And 'Sítá! O my love!' he cries." + + + + +Canto XXXVII. Sítá's Speech. + + +"Thou bringest me," she cried again, +"A mingled draught of bliss and pain: +Bliss, that he wears me in his heart, +Pain, that he wakes and weeps apart, +O, see how Fate is king of all, +Now lifts us high, now bids us fall, +And leads a captive bound with cord +The meanest slave, the proudest lord, +Thus even now Fate's stern decree +Has struck with grief my lord and me. +Say, how shall Ráma reach the shore +Of sorrow's waves that rise and roar, +A shipwrecked sailor, well nigh drowned +In the wild sea that foams around? +When will he smite the demon down, +Lay low in dust the giants' town, +And, glorious from his foes' defeat, +His wife, his long-lost Sítá, meet? +Go, bid him speed to smite his foes +Before the year shall reach its close. +Ten months are fled but two remain, +Then Rávan's captive must be slain. +Oft has Vibhishan,(863) just and wise, +Besought him to restore his prize. +But deaf is Rávan's senseless ear: +His brother's rede he will not hear. +Vibhishan's daughter(864) loves me well: +From her I learnt the tale I tell. +Avindhva(865) prudent, just, and old, +The giant's fall has oft foretold; +But Fate impels him to despise +His word on whom he most relies. +In Ráma's love I rest secure, +For my fond heart is true and pure, +And him, my noblest lord, I deem +In valour, power, and might supreme." + + As from her eyes the waters ran, +The Vánar chief again began: +"Yea, Ráma, when he hears my tale, +Will with our hosts these walls assail. +Or I myself, O Queen, this day +Will bear thee from the fiend away, +Will lift thee up, and take thee hence +To him thy refuge and defence; +Will take thee in my arms, and flee +To Ráma far beyond the sea; +Will place thee on Prasravan hill +Where Raghu's son is waiting still." +"How canst thou bear me hence?" she cried, +"The way is long, the sea is wide. +To bear my very weight would be +A task too hard for one like thee."(866) + + Swift rose before her startled eyes +The Vánar in his native size, +Like Mandar's hill or Meru's height, +Encircled with a blaze of light. +"O come," he cried, "thy fears dispel, +Nor doubt that I will bear thee well. +Come, in my strength and care confide, +And sit in joy by Ráma's side." + + Again she spake: "I know thee now, +Brave, resolute, and strong art thou; +In glory like the Lord of Fire +With storm-swift feet which naught may tire +But yet with thee I may not fly: +For, borne so swiftly through the sky, +Mine eyes would soon grow faint and dim, +My dizzy brain would reel and swim, +My yielding arms relax their hold, +And I in terror uncontrolled +Should fall into the raging sea +Where hungry sharks would feed on me. +Nor can I touch, of free accord, +The limbs of any save my lord. +If, by the giant forced away, +In his enfolding arms I lay, +Not mine, O Vánar, was the blame; +What could I do, a helpless dame? +Go, to my lord my message bear, +And bid him end my long despair." + + + + +Canto XXXVIII. Sítá's Gem. + + +Again the Vánar chief replied, +With her wise answer satisfied: +"Well hast thou said: thou canst not brave +The rushing wind, the roaring wave. +Thy woman's heart would sink with fear +Before the ocean shore were near. +And for thy dread lest limb of thine +Should for a while be touched by mine, +The modest fear is worthy one +Whose cherished lord is Raghu's son. +Yet when I sought to bear thee hence +I spoke the words of innocence, +Impelled to set the captive free +By friendship for thy lord and thee. +But if with me thou wilt not try +The passage of the windy sky, +Give me a gem that I may show, +Some token which thy lord may know." + + Again the Maithil lady spoke, +While tears and sobs her utterance broke: +"The surest of all signs is this, +To tell the tale of vanished bliss. +Thus in my name to Ráma speak: +"Remember Chitrakúta's peak +And the green margin of the rill(867) +That flows beside that pleasant hill, +Where thou and I together strayed +Delighting in the tangled shade. +There on the grass I sat with thee +And laid my head upon thy knee. +There came a greedy crow and pecked +The meat I waited to protect +And, heedless of the clods I threw, +About my head in circles flew, +Until by darling hunger pressed +He boldly pecked me on the breast. +I ran to thee in rage and grief +And prayed for vengeance on the thief. +Then Ráma(868) from his slumber rose +And smiled with pity at my woes. +Upon my bleeding breast he saw +The scratches made by beak and claw. +He laid an arrow on his bow, +And launched it at the shameless crow. +That shaft, with magic power endued, +The bird, where'er he flew, pursued, +Till back to Raghu's son he fled +And bent at Ráma's feet his head.(869) +Couldst thou for me with anger stirred +Launch that dire shaft upon a bird, +And yet canst pardon him who stole +The darling of thy heart and soul? +Rise up, O bravest of the brave, +And come in all thy might to save. +Come with the thunders of thy bow, +And smite to earth the Rákshas foe." + + She ceased; and from her glorious hair +She took a gem that sparkled there +A token which her husband's eyes +With eager love would recognize. +His head the Vánar envoy bent +In low obeisance reverent. +And on his finger bound the gem +She loosened from her diadem. + +[I omit two Cantos of dialogue. Sítá tells Hanumán again to convey her +message to Ráma and bid him hasten to rescue her. Hanumán replies as +before that there is no one on earth equal to Ráma, who will soon come and +destroy Rávan. There is not a new idea in the two Cantos: all is +reiteration.] + + + + +Canto XLI. The Ruin Of The Grove. + + +Dismissed with every honour due +The Vánar from the spot withdrew. +Then joyous thought the Wind-God's son: +"The mighty task is wellnigh done. +The three expedients I must leave; +The fourth alone can I achieve.(870) +These dwellers in the giants' isle +No arts of mine can reconcile. +I cannot bribe: I cannot sow +Dissension mid the Rákshas foe. +Arts, gifts, address, these fiends despise; +But force shall yet their king chastise. +Perchance he may relent when all +The bravest of his chieftains fall. +This lovely grove will I destroy, +The cruel Rávan's pride and joy. +The garden where he takes his ease +Mid climbing plants and flowery trees +That lift their proud tops to the skies, +Dear to the tyrant as his eyes. +Then will he rouse in wrath, and lead +His legions with the car and steed +And elephants in long array, +And seek me thirsty for the fray. +The Rákshas legions will I meet, +And all his bravest host defeat; +Then, glorious from the bloody plain, +Turn to my lord the king again." + + Then every lovely tree that bore +Fair blossoms, from the soil he tore, +Till each green bough that lent its shade +To singing birds on earth was laid. +The wilderness he left a waste, +The fountains shattered and defaced: +O'erthrew and levelled with the ground +Each shady seat and pleasure-mound. +Each arbour clad with climbing bloom, +Each grotto, cell, and picture room, +Each lawn by beast and bird enjoyed, +Each walk and terrace was destroyed. +And all the place that was so fair +Was left a ruin wild and bare, +As if the fury of the blast +Or raging fire had o'er it passed. + + + + +Canto XLII. The Giants Roused. + + +The cries of startled birds, the sound +Of tall trees crashing to the ground, +Struck with amaze each giant's ear, +And filled the isle with sudden fear. +Then, wakened by the crash and cries, +The fierce shefiends unclosed their eyes, +And saw the Vánar where he stood +Amid the devastated wood. +The more to scare them with the view +To size immense the Vánar grew; +And straight the Rákshas warders cried +Janak's daughter terrified +"Whose envoy, whence, and who is he, +Why has he come to talk with thee? +Speak, lady of the lovely eyes, +And let not fear thy joy disguise." + + Then thus replied the Maithil dame +Of noble soul and perfect frame. +"Can I discern, with scanty skill, +These fiends who change their forms at will? +'Tis yours to say: your kin you meet; +A serpent knows a serpent's feet. + + I weet not who he is: the sight +Has filled my spirit with affright." +Some pressed round Sítá in a ring; +Some bore the story to their king: +"A mighty creature of our race, +In monkey form, has reached the place. +He came within the grove," they cried, +"He stood and talked by Sítá's side, +He comes from Indra's court to her, +Or is Kuvera's messenger; +Or Ráma sent the spy to seek +His consort, and her wrongs to wreak. +His crushing arm, his trampling feet +Have marred and spoiled that dear retreat, +And all the pleasant place which thou +So lovest is a ruin now. +The tree where Sítá sat alone +Is spared where all are overthrown. +Perchance he saved the dame from harm: +Perchance the toil had numbed his arm." + + Then flashed the giant's eye with fire +Like that which lights the funeral pyre. +He bade his bravest Kinkars(871) speed +And to his feet the spoiler lead. +Forth from the palace, at his hest, +Twice forty thousand warriors pressed. +Burning for battle, strong and fierce, +With clubs to crush and swords to pierce, +They saw Hanúmán near a porch, +And, thick as moths around a torch, +Rushed on the foe with wild attacks +Of mace and club and battle-axe. +As round him pressed the Rákshas crowd, +The wondrous monkey roared aloud, +That birds fell headlong from the sky: +Then spake he with a mighty cry: +"Long life to Dasaratha's heir, +And Lakshman, ever-glorious pair! +Long life to him who rules our race, +Preserved by noblest Ráma's grace! +I am the slave of Kosal's king,(872) +Whose wondrous deeds the minstrels sing. +Hanúmán I, the Wind-God's seed: +Beneath this arm the foemen bleed. +I fear not, unapproached in might, +A thousand Rávan's ranged for fight, +Although in furious hands they rear +The hill and tree for sword and spear, +I will, before the giants' eyes, +Their city and their king chastise; +And, having communed with the dame, +Depart in triumph as I came." + + At that terrific roar and yell +The heart of every giant fell. +But still their king's command they feared +And pressed around with arms upreared. +Beside the porch a club was laid: +The Vánar caught it up, and swayed +The weapon round his head, and slew +The foremost of the Rákshas crew. +Thus Indra vanquished, thousand-eyed, +The Daityas who the Gods defied. +Then on the porch Hanúmán sprang, +And loud his shout of triumph rang. +The giants looked upon the dead, +And turning to their monarch fled. +And Rávan with his spirit wrought +To frenzy by the tale they brought, +Urged to the fight Prahasta's son, +Of all his chiefs the mightiest one. + + + + +Canto XLIII. The Ruin Of The Temple. + + +The Wind-God's son a temple(873) scaled +Which, by his fury unassailed, +High as the hill of Meru, stood +Amid the ruins of the wood; +And in his fury thundered out +Again his haughty battle-shout: +"I am the slave of Kosal's King +Whose wondrous deeds the minstrels sing." +Forth hurried, by that shout alarmed, +The warders of the temple armed +With every weapon haste supplied, +And closed him in on every side, +With bands that strove to pierce and strike +With shaft and axe and club and pike. +Then from its base the Vánar tore +A pillar with the weight it bore. +Against the wall the mass he dashed, +And forth the flames in answer flashed, +That wildly ran o'er roofs and wall +In hungry rage consuming all. +He whirled the pillar round his head +And struck a hundred giants dead. +Then high upheld on air he rose +And called in thunder to his foes: +"A thousand Vánar chiefs like me +Roam at their will o'er land and sea, +Terrific might we all possess: +Our stormy speed is limitless. +And all, unconquered in the fray, +Our king Sugríva's word obey. +Backed by his bravest myriads, he +Our warrior lord will cross the sea. +Then Lanká's lofty towers, and all +Your hosts and Rávan's self shall fall. +None shall be left unslaughtered; none +Who braves the wrath of Raghu's son." + + + + +Canto XLIV. Jambumáli's Death. + + +Then Jambumáli, pride and boast +For valour of the Rákshas host, +Prahasta's son supremely brave, +Obeyed the hest that Rávan gave: +Fierce warrior with terrific teeth, +With saguine robes and brilliant wreath. +A bow like Indra's own(874), and store +Of glittering shafts the chieftain bore. +And ever as the string he tried +The weapon with a roar replied, +Loud as the crashing thunder sent +By him who rules the firmament. +Soon as the foeman came in view +Borne on a car which asses drew, +The Vánar chieftain mighty-voiced +Shouted in triumph and rejoiced. +Prahasta's son his bow-string drew, +And swift the winged arrows flew, +One in the face the Vánar smote, +Another quivered in his throat. +Ten from the deadly weapon sent +His brawny arms and shoulders rent. +Then as he felt each galling shot +The Vánar's rage waxed fiercely hot. +He looked, and saw a mass of stone +That lay before his feet o'erthrown. +The mighty block he raised and threw, +And crashing through the air it flew. +But Jambumáli shunned the blow, +And rained fresh arrows from his bow. +The Vánar's limbs were red with gore: +A Sál tree from the earth he tore, +And, ere he hurled it undismayed, +Above his head the missile swayed. +But shafts from Jambumáli's bow +Cut through it ere his hand could throw. +And thigh and arm and chest and side +With streams of rushing blood were dyed. +Still unsubdued though wounded oft +The shattered trunk he raised aloft, +And down with well-directed aim +On Jambumáli's chest it came. +There crushed upon the trampled grass +He lay an undistinguished mass, +The foeman's eye no more could see +His head or chest or arm or knee. +And bow and car and steeds(875) and store +Of glittering shafts were seen no more. + + When Jambumáli's death he heard, +King Rávan's heart with rage was stirred +And forth his general's sons he sent, +For power and might preeminent. + + + + +Canto XLV. The Seven Defeated. + + +Forth went the seven in brave attire, +In glory brilliant as the fire, +Impetuous chiefs with massive bows, +The quellers of a host of foes: +Trained from their youth in martial lore, +And masters of the arms they bore: +Each emulous and fiercely bold, +And banners wrought with glittering gold +Waved o'er their chariots, drawn at speed +By coursers of the noblest breed. +On through the ruins of the grove +At Hanumán they fiercely drove, +And from the ponderous bows they strained +A shower of deadly arrows rained. +Then scarce was seen the Vánar's form +Enveloped in the arrowy storm. +So stands half veiled the Mountains' King +When rainy clouds about him cling. +By nimble turn, by rapid bound +He shunned the shafts that rained around, +Eluding, as in air he rose, +The rushing chariots of his foes. +The mighty Vánar undismayed +Amid his archer foemen played, +As plays the frolic wind on high +Mid bow-armed(876) clouds that fill the sky. +He raised a mighty roar and yell +That fear on all the army fell, +And then, his warrior soul aglow +With fury, rushed upon the foe, +Some with his open hand he beat +To death and trampled with his feet; +Some with fierce nails he rent and slew, +And others with his fists o'erthrew; +Some with his legs, as on he rushed, +Some with his bulky chest he crushed; +While some struck senseless by his roar +Dropped on the ground and breathed no more, +The remnant, seized with sudden dread, +Turned from the grove and wildly fled. +The trampled earth was thickly strown +With steed and car and flag o'erthrown, +And the red blood in rivers flowed +From slaughtered fiends o'er path and road. + + + + +Canto XLVI. The Captains. + + +Mad with the rage of injured pride +King Rávan summoned to his side +The valiant five who led his host, +Supreme in war and honoured most. +"Go forth," he cried, "with car and steed, +And to my feet this monkey lead, +But watch each chance of time and place +To seize this thing of silvan race. +For from his wondrous exploits he +No monkey of the woods can be, +But some new kind of creature meant +To work us woe, by Indra sent. +Gandharvas, Nágas, and the best +Of Yakshas have our might confessed. +Have we not challenged and subdued +The whole celestial multitude? +Yet will you not, if you are wise, +A chief of monkey race despise. +For I myself have Báli known, +And King Sugríva's power I own. +But none of all their woodland throng +Was half so terrible and strong." + + Obedient to the words he spake +They hastened forth the foe to take. +Swift were the cars whereon they rode, +And bright their weapons flashed and glowed. +They saw: they charged in wild career +With sword and mace and axe and spear. +From Durdhar's bow five arrows sped +And quivered in the Vánar's head. +He rose and roared: the fearful sound +Made all the region echo round. +Then from above his weight he threw +On Durdhar's car that near him drew. +The weight that came with lightning speed +Crushed pole and axle, car and steed. +It shattered Durdhar's head and neck, +And left him lifeless mid the wreck. +Yúpáksha saw the warrior die, +And Virúpáksha heard his cry, +And, mad for vengeance for the slain, +They charged their Vánar foe again. +He rose in air: they onward pressed +And fiercely smote him on the breast. +In vain they struck his iron frame: +With eagle swoop to earth he came, +Tore from the ground a tree that grew +Beside him, and the demons slew. +Then Bhásakama raised his spear, +And Praghas with a laugh drew near, +And, maddened at the sight, the two +Against the undaunted Vánar flew. +As from his wounds the torrents flowed, +Like a red sun the Vánar showed. +He turned, a mountain peak to seize +With all its beasts and snakes and trees. +He hurled it on the pair: and they +Crushed, overwhelmed, beneath it lay. + + + + +Canto XLVII. The Death Of Aksha. + + +But Rávan, as his fury burned, +His eyes on youthful Aksha(877) turned, +Who rose impetuous at his glance +And shouted for his bow and lance. +He rode upon a glorious car +That shot the light of gems afar. +His pennon waved mid glittering gold +And bright the wheels with jewels rolled, +By long and fierce devotion won +That car was splendid as the sun. +With rows of various weapons stored; +And thought-swift horses whirled their lord +Racing along the earth, or rose +High through the clouds whene'er he chose. +Then fierce and fearful war between +The Vánar and the fiend was seen. +The Gods and Asurs stood amazed, +And on the wondrous combat gazed. +A cry from earth rose long and shrill, +The wind was hushed, the sun grew chill. +The thunder bellowed from the sky, +And troubled ocean roared reply. +Thrice Aksha strained his dreadful bow, +Thrice smote his arrow on the foe, +And with full streams of crimson bled +Three gashes in the Vánar's head. +Then rose Hanúmán in the air +To shun the shafts no life could bear. +But Aksha in his car pursued, +And from on high the fight renewed +With storm of arrows, thick as hail +When angry clouds some hill assail. +Impatient of that arrowy shower +The Vánar chief put forth his power, +Again above his chariot rose +And smote him with repeated blows. +Terrific came each deadly stroke: +Breast neck and arm and back he broke; +And Aksha fell to earth, and lay +With all his life-blood drained away. + + + + +Canto XLVIII. Hanumán Captured. + + +To Indrajít(878) the bold and brave +The giant king his mandate gave: +"O trained in warlike science, best +In arms of all our mightiest, +Whose valour in the conflict shown +To Asurs and to Gods is known, +The Kinkars whom I sent are slain, +And Jambumálí and his train; +The lords who led our giant bands +Have fallen by the monkey's hands; +With shattered cars the ground is spread, +And Aksha lies amid the dead. +Thou art my best and bravest: go, +Unmatched in power, and slay the foe." +He heard the hest: he bent his head; +Athirst for battle forth he sped. +Four tigers fierce, of tawny hue, +With fearful teeth, his chariot drew. + + Hanúmán heard his strong bow clang, +And swiftly from the earth he sprang, +While weak and ineffective fell +The archer's shafts though pointed well. +The Rákshas saw that naught might kill +The wondrous foe who mocked his skill, +And launched a magic shaft to throw +A binding spell about his foe. +Forth flew the shaft: the mystic charm +Stayed his swift feet and numbed his arm, +Through all his frame he felt the spell, +And motionless to earth he fell. +Nor would the reverent Vánar loose +The bonds that bound him as a noose. +He knew that Brahmá's self had charmed +The weapon that his might disarmed. + + They saw him helpless on the ground, +And all the giants pressed around, +And bonds of hemp and bark were cast +About his limbs to hold him fast. +They drew the ropes round feet and wrists; +They beat him with their hands and fists, +And dragged him as they strained the cord +With shouts of triumph to their lord.(879) + + + + +Canto XLIX. Rávan. + + +On the fierce king Hanúmán turned +His angry eyes that glowed and burned. +He saw him decked with wealth untold +Of diamond and pearl and gold, +And priceless was each wondrous gem +That sparkled in his diadem. +About his neck rich chains were twined, +The best that fancy e'er designed, +And a fair robe with pearls bestrung +Down from his mighty shoulders hung. +Ten heads he reared,(880) as Mandar's hill +Lifts woody peaks which tigers fill, +Bright were his eyes, and bright, beneath, +The flashes of his awful teeth. +His brawny arms of wondrous size +Were decked with rings and scented dyes. +His hands like snakes with five long heads +Descending from their mountain beds. +He sat upon a crystal throne +Inlaid with wealth of precious stone, +Whereon, of noblest work, was set +A gold-embroidered coverlet. +Behind the monarch stood the best +Of beauteous women gaily dressed, +And each her giant master fanned, +Or waved a chourie in her hand. +Four noble courtiers(881) wise and good +In counsel, near the monarch stood, +As the four oceans ever stand +About the sea-encompassed land. +Still, though his heart with rage was fired, +The Vánar marvelled and admired: +"O what a rare and wondrous sight! +What beauty, majesty, and might! +All regal pomp combines to grace +This ruler of the Rákshas race. +He, if he scorned not right and law, +Might guide the world with tempered awe: +Yea, Indra and the Gods on high +Might on his saving power rely." + + + + +Canto L. Prahasta's Questions. + + +Then fierce the giant's fury blazed +As on Hanúmán's form he gazed, +And shaken by each wild surmise +He spake aloud with flashing eyes: +"Can this be Nandi(882) standing here, +The mighty one whom all revere? +Who once on high Kailása's hill +Pronounced the curse that haunts me still? +Or is the woodland creature one +Of Asur race, or Bali's(883) son? +The wretch with searching question try: +Learn who he is, and whence; and why +He marred the glory of the grove, +And with my captains fiercely strove." +Prahasta heard his lord's behest, +And thus the Vánar chief addressed: +"O monkey stranger be consoled: +Fear not, and let thy heart be bold. +If thou by Indra's mandate sent +Thy steps to Lanká's isle hast bent, +With fearless words the cause explain, +And freedom thou shalt soon regain. +Or if thou comest as a spy +Despatched by Vishnu in the sky, +Or sent by Yáma, or the Lord +Of Riches, hast our town explored; +Proved by the prowess thou hast shown +No monkey save in form alone; +Speak boldly all the truth, and be +Released from bonds, unharmed and free. +But falsehood spoken to our king +Swift punishment of death will bring." + + He ceased: the Vánar made reply; +"Not Indra's messenger am I, +Nor came I hither to fulfil +Kuvera's hest or Vishnu's will. +I stand before the giants here +A Vánar e'en as I appear. +I longed to see the king: 'twas hard +To win my way through gate and guard. +And so to gain my wish I laid +In ruin that delightful shade. +No fiend, no God of heavenly kind +With bond or chain these limbs may bind. +The Eternal Sire himself of old +Vouchsafed the boon that makes me bold, +From Brahmá's magic shaft released(884) +I knew the captor's power had ceased, +The fancied bonds I freely brooked, +And thus upon the king have looked. +My way to Lanká have I won, +A messenger from Raghu's son." + + + + +Canto LI. Hanumán's Reply. + + +"My king Sugríva greets thee fair, +And bids me thus his rede declare. +Son of the God of Wind, by name +Hanumán, to this isle I came. +To set the Maithil lady free +I crossed the barrier of the sea. +I roamed in search of her and found +Her weeping in that lovely ground. +Thou in the lore of duty trained, +Who hast by stern devotion gained +This wondrous wealth and power and fame +Shouldst fear to wrong another's dame. +Hear thou my counsel, and be wise: +No fiend, no dweller in the skies +Can bear the shafts by Lakshman shot, +Or Ráma when his wrath is hot. +O Giant King, repent the crime +And soothe him while there yet is time. +Now be the Maithil queen restored +Uninjured to her sorrowing lord. +Soon wilt thou rue thy dire mistake: +She is no woman but a snake, +Whose very deadly bite will be +The ruin of thy house and thee. +Thy pride has led thy thoughts astray, +That fancy not a hand may slay +The monarch of the giants, screened +From mortal blow of God and fiend. +Sugríva still thy death may be: +No Yaksha, fiend, or God is he, +And Ráma from a woman springs, +The mortal seed of mortal kings. +O think how Báli fell subdued; +Think on thy slaughtered multitude. +Respect those brave and strong allies; +Consult thy safety, and be wise. +I, even I, no helper need +To overthrow, with car and steed, +Thy city Lanká half divine: +The power but not the will is mine. +For Raghu's son, before his friend +The Vánar monarch, swore to end +With his own conquering arm the life +Of him who stole his darling wife. +Turn, and be wise, O Rávan turn; +Or thou wilt see thy Lanká burn, +And with thy wives, friends, kith and kin +Be ruined for thy senseless sin." + + + + +Canto LII. Vibhishan's Speech. + + +Then Rávan spake with flashing eye: +"Hence with the Vánar: let him die." +Vibhishan heard the stern behest, +And pondered in his troubled breast; +Then, trained in arts that soothe and please +Addressed the king in words like these: + + "Revoke, my lord, thy fierce decree, +And hear the words I speak to thee. +Kings wise and noble ne'er condemn +To death the envoys sent to them. +Such deed the world's contempt would draw +On him who breaks the ancient law.(885) +Observe the mean where justice lies, +And spare his life but still chastise." +Then forth the tyrant's fury broke, +And thus in angry words he spoke: +"O hero, when the wicked bleed +No sin or shame attends the deed. +The Vánar's blood must needs be spilt, +The penalty of heinous guilt." + + Again Vibhishan made reply: +"Nay, hear me, for he must not die. +Hear the great law the wise declare: +"Thy foeman's envoy thou shalt spare." +'Tis true he comes an open foe: +'Tis true his hands have wrought us woe, +But law allows thee, if thou wilt, +A punishment to suit the guilt. +The mark of shame, the scourge, the brand, +The shaven head, the wounded hand. +Yea, were the Vánar envoy slain, +Where, King of giants, were the gain? +On them alone, on them who sent +The message, be the punishment. +For spake he well or spake he ill, +He spake obedient to their will, +And, if he perish, who can bear +Thy challenge to the royal pair? +Who, cross the ocean and incite +Thy death-doomed enemies to fight?" + + + + +Canto LIII. The Punishment. + + +King Rávan, by his pleading moved, +The counsel of the chief approved: +"Thy words are wise and true: to kill +An envoy would beseem us ill. +Yet must we for his crime invent +Some fitting mode of punishment. +The tail, I fancy, is the part +Most cherished by a monkey's heart. +Make ready: set his tail aflame, +And let him leave us as he came, +And thus disfigured and disgraced +Back to his king and people haste." + + The giants heard their monarch's speech; +And, filled with burning fury, each +Brought strips of cotton cloth, and round +The monkey's tail the bandage wound. +As round his tail the bands they drew +His mighty form dilating grew +Vast as the flame that bursts on high +Where trees are old and grass is dry. +Each band and strip they soaked in oil, +And set on fire the twisted coil. +Delighted as they viewed the blaze, +The cruel demons stood at gaze: +And mid loud drums and shells rang out +The triumph of their joyful shout. +They pressed about him thick and fast +As through the crowded streets he passed, +Observing with attentive care +Each rich and wondrous structure there, +Still heedless of the eager cry +That rent the air, The spy! the spy! + + Some to the captive lady ran, +And thus in joyous words began: +"That copper-visaged monkey, he +Who in the garden talked with thee, +Through Lanká's town is led a show, +And round his tail the red flames glow." +The mournful news the lady heard +That with fresh grief her bosom stirred. +Swift to the kindled fire she went +And prayed before it reverent: +"If I my husband have obeyed, +And kept the ascetic vows I made, +Free, ever free, from stain and blot, +O spare the Vánar; harm him not." + + Then leapt on high the flickering flame +And shone in answer to the dame. +The pitying fire its rage forbore: +The Vánar felt the heat no more. +Then, to minutest size reduced, +The bonds that bound his limbs he loosed, +And, freed from every band and chain, +Rose to his native size again. +He seized a club of ponderous weight +That lay before him by the gate, +Rushed at the fiends that hemmed him round, +And laid them lifeless on the ground. +Through Lanká's town again he strode, +And viewed each street and square and road,-- +Still wreathed about with harmless blaze, +A sun engarlanded with rays. + + + + +Canto LIV. The Burning Of Lanká. + + +"What further deed remains to do +To vex the Rákshas king anew? +The beauty of his grove is marred, +Killed are the bravest of his guard. +The captains of his host are slain; +But forts and palaces remain, +Swift is the work and light the toil +Each fortress of the foe to spoil." + + Reflecting thus, his tail ablaze +As through the cloud red lightning plays, +He scaled the palaces and spread +The conflagration where he sped. +From house to house he hurried on, +And the wild flames behind him shone. +Each mansion of the foe he scaled, +And furious fire its roof assailed +Till all the common ruin shared: +Vibhishan's house alone was spared. +From blazing pile to pile he sprang, +And loud his shout of triumph rang, +As roars the doomsday cloud when all +The worlds in dissolution fall. +The friendly wind conspired to fan +The hungry flames that leapt and ran, +And spreading in their fury caught +The gilded walls with pearls inwrought, +Till each proud palace reeled and fell +As falls a heavenly citadel. + + Loud was the roar the demons raised +Mid walls that split and beams that blazed, +As each with vain endeavour strove +To stay the flames in house or grove. +The women, with dishevelled hair, +Flocked to the roofs in wild despair, +Shrieked out for succour, wept aloud, +And fell, like lightning from a cloud. +He saw the flames ascend and curl +Round turkis, diamond, and pearl, +While silver floods and molten gold +From ruined wall and latice rolled. +As fire grows fiercer as he feeds +On wood and grass and crackling reeds, +So Hanúmán the ruin eyed +With fury still unsatisfied. + + + + +Canto LV. Fear For Sítá. + + +But other thoughts resumed their sway +When Lanká's town in ruin lay; +And, as his bosom felt their weight +He stood a while to meditate. +"What have I done?", he thought with shame, +"Destroyed the town with hostile flame. +O happy they whose firm control +Checks the wild passion of the soul; +Who on the fires of anger throw +The cooling drops that check their glow. +But woe is me, whom wrath could lead +To do this senseless shameless deed. +The town to fire and death I gave, +Nor thought of her I came to save,-- +Doomed by my own rash folly, doomed +To perish in the flames consumed. +If I, when anger drove me wild, +Have caused the death of Janak's child, +The kindled flame shall end my woe, +Or the deep fires that burn below,(886) +Or my forsaken corse shall be +Food for the monsters of the sea. +How can I meet Sugríva? how +Before the royal brothers bow,-- +I whose rash deed has madly foiled, +The noble work in which we toiled? +Or has her own bright virtue shed +Its guardian influence round her head? +She lives untouched,--the peerless dame; +Flame has no fury for the flame.(887) +The very fire would ne'er consent +To harm a queen so excellent,-- +The high-souled Ráma's faithful wife, +Protected by her holy life. +She lives, she lives. Why should I fear +For one whom Raghu's sons hold dear? +Has not the pitying fire that spared +The Vánar for the lady cared?" + + Such were his thoughts: he pondered long, +And fear grew faint and hope grew strong. +Then round him heavenly voices rang, +And, sweetly tuned, his praises sang: +"O glorious is the exploit done +By Hanumán the Wind-God's son. +The flames o'er Lanká's city rise: +The giants' home in ruin lies. +O'er roof and wall the fires have spread, +Nor harmed a hair of Sítá's head." + + + + +Canto LVI. Mount Arishta. + + +He looked upon the burning waste, +Then sought the queen in joyous haste, +With words of hope consoled her heart, +And made him ready to depart. +He scaled Arishta's glorious steep +Whose summits beetled o'er the deep. +The woods in varied beauty dressed +Hung like a garland round his crest, +And clouds of ever changing hue +A robe about his shoulders threw. +On him the rays of morning fell +To wake the hill they loved so well, +And bid unclose those splendid eyes +That glittered in his mineral dyes. +He woke to hear the music made +By thunders of the white cascade, +While every laughing rill that sprang +From crag to crag its carol sang. +For arms, he lifted to the stars +His towering stems of Deodárs, +And morning heard his pealing call +In tumbling brook and waterfall. +He trembled when his woods were pale +And bowed beneath the autumn gale, +And when his vocal reeds were stirred +His melancholy moan was heard. + + Far down against the mountain's feet +The Vánar heard the wild waves beat; +Then turned his glances to the north. +Sprang from the peak and bounded forth, +The mountain felt the fearful shock +And trembled through his mass of rock. +The tallest trees were crushed and rent +And headlong to the valley sent, +And as the rocking shook each cave +Loud was the roar the lions gave. +Forth from the shaken cavern came +Fierce serpents with their tongues aflame; +And every Yaksha, wild with dread, +And Kinnar and Gandharva, fled. + + + + +Canto LVII. Hanumán's Return. + + +Still, like a winged mountain, he +Sprang forward through the airy sea,(888) +And rushing through the ether drew +The clouds to follow as he flew, +Through the great host around him spread, +Grey, golden, dark, and white, and red. +Now in a sable cloud immersed, +Now from its gloomy pall he burst, +Like the bright Lord of Stars concealed +A moment, and again revealed. +Sunábha(889) passed, he neared the coast +Where waited still the Vánar host. +They heard a rushing in the skies, +And lifted up their wondering eyes. +His wild triumphant shout they knew +That louder still and louder grew, +And Jámbaván with eager voice +Called on the Vánars to rejoice: +"Look he returns, the Wind-God's son, +And full success his toils have won; +Triumphant is the shout that comes +Like music of a thousand drums." + + Up sprang the Vánars from the ground +And listened to the wondrous sound +Of hurtling arm and thigh as through +The region of the air he flew, +Loud as the wind, when tempests rave, +Roars in the prison of the cave. +From crag to crag, from height to height; +They bounded in their mad delight, +And when he touched the mountain's crest, +With reverent welcome round him pressed. +They brought him of their woodland fruits, +They brought him of the choicest roots, +And laughed and shouted in their glee +The noblest of their chiefs to see. +Nor Hanumán delayed to greet +Sage Jámbaván with reverence meet; +To Angad and the chiefs he bent +For age and rank preëminent, +And briefly spoke: "These eyes have seen, +These lips addressed, the Maithil queen." +They sat beneath the waving trees, +And Angad spoke in words like these: +"O noblest of the Vánar kind +For valour power and might combined, +To thee triumphant o'er the foe +Our hopes, our lives and all we owe. +O faithful heart in perils tried, +Which toil nor fear could turn aside, +Thy deed the lady will restore, +And Ráma's heart will ache no more."(890) + + + + +Canto LVIII. The Feast Of Honey. + + +They rose in air: the region grew +Dark with their shadow as they flew. +Swift to a lovely grove(891) they came +That rivalled heavenly Nandan's(892) fame; +Where countless bees their honey stored,-- +The pleasance of the Vánars' lord, +To every creature fenced and barred, +Which Dadhimukh was set to guard, +A noble Vánar, brave and bold, +Sugríva's uncle lofty-souled. +To Angad came with one accord +The Vánars, and besought their lord +That they those honeyed stores might eat +That made the grove so passing sweet. + + He gave consent: they sought the trees +Thronged with innumerable bees. +They rifled all the treasured store, +And ate the fruit the branches bore, +And still as they prolonged the feast +Their merriment and joy increased. +Drunk with the sweets, they danced and bowed, +They wildly sang, they laughed aloud, +Some climbed and sprang from tree to tree, +Some sat and chattered in their glee. +Some scaled the trees which creepers crowned, +And rained the branches to the ground. +There with loud laugh a Vánar sprang +Close to his friend who madly sang, +In doleful mood another crept +To mix his tears with one who wept. + + Then Dadhimukh with fury viewed +The intoxicated multitude. +He looked upon the rifled shade, +And all the ruin they had made; +Then called with angry voice, and strove +To save the remnant of the grove. +But warning cries and words were spurned, +And angry taunt and threat returned. +Then fierce and wild contention rose: +With furious words he mingled blows. +They by no shame or fear withheld, +By drunken mood and ire impelled, +Used claws, and teeth, and hands, and beat +The keeper under trampling feet. + +[Three Cantos consisting of little but repetitions are omitted. Dadhimukh +escapes from the infuriated monkeys and hastens to Sugríva to report their +misconduct. Sugríva infers that Hanumán and his band have been successful +in their search, and that the exuberance of spirits and the mischief +complained of, are but the natural expression of their joy. Dadhimukh +obtains little sympathy from Sugríva, and is told to return and send the +monkeys on with all possible speed.] + + + + +Canto LXV. The Tidings. + + +On to Prasravan's hill they sped +Where blooming trees their branches spread. +To Raghu's sons their heads they bent +And did obeisance reverent. +Then to their king, by Angad led, +Each Vánar chieftain bowed his head; +And Hanumán the brave and bold +His tidings to the monarch told; +But first in Ráma's hand he placed +The gem that Sítá's brow had graced: +"I crossed the sea: I searched a while +For Sítá in the giants' isle. +I found her vext with taunt and threat +By demon guards about her set. +Her tresses twined in single braid, +On the bare earth her limbs were laid. +Sad were her eyes: her cheeks were pale +As shuddering flowers in winter's gale. +I stood beside the weeping dame, +And gently whispered Ráma's name: +With cheering words her grief consoled, +And then the whole adventure told. +She weeps afar beyond the sea, +And her true heart is still with thee. +She gave a sign that thou wouldst know, +She bids thee think upon the crow, +And bright mark pressed upon her brow +When none was nigh but she and thou. +She bids thee take this precious stone, +The sea-born gem thou long hast known. +"And I," she said, "will dull the sting +Of woe by gazing on the ring. +One little month shall I sustain +This life oppressed with woe and pain: +And when the month is ended, I +The giants' prey must surely die.' " + + + + +Canto LXVI. Ráma's Speech. + + +There ceased the Vánar: Ráma pressed +The treasured jewel to his breast, +And from his eyes the waters broke +As to the Vánar king he spoke: +"As o'er her babe the mother weeps, +This flood of tears the jewel steeps. +This gem that shone on Sítá's head +Was Janak's gift when we were wed, +And the pure brow that wore it lent +New splendour to the ornament. +This gem, bright offspring of the wave, +The King of Heaven to Janak gave, +Whose noble sacrificial rite +Had filled the God with new delight. +Now, as I gaze upon the prize, +Methinks I see my father's eyes. +Methinks I see before me stand +The ruler of Videha's land.(893) +Methinks mine arms are folded now +Round her who wore it on her brow. +Speak, Hanumán, O say, dear friend, +What message did my darling send? +O speak, and let thy words impart +Their gentle dew to cool my heart. +Ah, 'tis the crown of woe to see +This gem and ask "Where, where is she?" +If for one month her heart be strong, +Her days of life will yet be long. +But I, with naught to lend relief, +This very day must die of grief. +Come, Hanumán, and quickly guide +The mourner to his darling's side. +O lead me--thou hast learnt the way-- +I cannot and I will not stay. +How can my gentle love endure, +So timid, delicate, and pure, +The dreadful demons fierce and vile +Who watch her in the guarded isle? +No more the light of beauty shines +From Sítá as she weeps and pines. +But pain and sorrow, cloud on cloud +Her moonlight glory dim and shroud. +O speak, dear Hanumán, and tell +Each word that from her sweet lips fell, +Her words, her words alone can give +The healing balm to make me live."(894) + + + + + +BOOK VI.(895) + + + + +Canto I. Ráma's Speech. + + +The son of Raghu heard, consoled, +The wondrous tale Hanumán told; +And, as his joyous hope grew high, +In friendly words he made reply: + + "Behold a mighty task achieved, +Which never heart but his conceived. +Who else across the sea can spring, +Save Váyu(896) and the Feathered King?(897) +Who, pass the portals strong and high +Which Nágas,(898) Gods, and fiends defy, +Where Rávan's hosts their station keep,-- +And come uninjured o'er the deep? +By such a deed the Wind-God's son +Good service to the king has done, +And saved from ruin and disgrace +Lakshman and me and Raghu's race. +Well has he planned and bravely fought, +And with due care my lady sought. +But of the sea I sadly think, +And the sweet hopes that cheered me sink. +How can we cross the leagues of foam +That keep us from the giant's home? +What can the Vánar legions more +Than muster on the ocean shore?" + + + + +Canto II. Sugríva's Speech. + + +He ceased: and King Sugríva tried +To calm his grief, and thus replied: +"'Be to thy nobler nature true, +Nor let despair thy soul subdue. +This cloud of causeless woe dispel, +For all as yet has prospered well, +And we have traced thy queen, and know +The dwelling of our Rákshas foe. +Arise, consult: thy task must be +To cast a bridge athwart the sea, +The city of our foe to reach +That crowns the mountain by the beach; +And when our feet that isle shall tread, +Rejoice and deem thy foeman dead. +The sea unbridged, his walls defy +Both fiends and children of the sky, +Though at the fierce battalions' head +Lord Indra's self the onset led. +Yea, victory is thine before +The long bridge touch the farther shore, +So fleet and fierce and strong are these +Who limb them as their fancies please. +Away with grief and sad surmise +That mar the noblest enterprise, +And with their weak suspicion blight +The sage's plan, the hero's might. +Come, this degenerate weakness spurn, +And bid thy dauntless heart return, +For each fair hope by grief is crossed +When those we love are dead or lost. +Arise, O best of those who know, +Arm for the giant's overthrow. +None in the triple world I see +Who in the fight may equal thee; +None who before thy face may stand +And brave the bow that arms thy hand, +Trust to these mighty Vánars: they +With full success thy trust will pay, +When thou shalt reach the robber's hold, +And loving arms round Sítá fold." + + + + +Canto III. Lanká. + + +He ceased: and Raghu's son gave heed, +Attentive to his prudent rede: +Then turned again, with hope inspired, +To Hanumán, and thus inquired: + + "Light were the task for thee, I ween, +To bridge the sea that gleams between +The mainland and the island shore. +Or dry the deep and guide as o'er. +Fain would I learn from thee whose feet +Have trod the stones of every street, +Of fenced Lanká's towers and forts, +And walls and moats and guarded ports, +And castles where the giants dwell, +And battlemented citadel. +O Váyu's son, describe it all, +With palace, fort, and gate, and wall." + + He ceased: and, skilled in arts that guide +The eloquent, the chief replied: + + "Vast is the city, gay and strong, +Where elephants unnumbered throng, +And countless hosts of Rákshas breed +Stand ready by the car and steed. +Four massive gates, securely barred, +All entrance to the city guard, +With murderous engines fixt to throw +Bolt, arrow, rock to check the foe, +And many a mace with iron head +That strikes at once a hundred dead. +Her golden ramparts wide and high +With massy strength the foe defy, +Where inner walls their rich inlay +Of coral, turkis, pearl display. +Her circling moats are broad and deep, +Where ravening monsters dart and leap. +By four great piers each moat is spanned +Where lines of deadly engines stand. +In sleepless watch at every gate +Unnumbered hosts of giants wait, +And, masters of each weapon, rear +The threatening pike and sword and spear. +My fury hurled those ramparts down, +Filled up the moats that gird the town, +The piers and portals overturned, +And stately Lanká spoiled and burned. +Howe'er we Vánars force our way +O'er the wide seat of Varun's(899) sway, +Be sure that city of the foe +Is doomed to sudden overthrow, +Nay, why so vast an army lead? +Brave Angad, Dwivid good at need, +Fierce Mainda, Panas famed in fight, +And Níla's skill and Nala's might, +And Jámbaván the strong and wise, +Will dare the easy enterprise. +Assailed by these shall Lanká fall +With gate and rampart, tower and wall. +Command the gathering, chief: and they +In happy hour will haste away." + + + + +Canto IV. The March. + + +He ceased; and spurred by warlike pride +The impetuous son of Raghu cried: +"Soon shall mine arm with wrathful joy +That city of the foe destroy. +Now, chieftain, now collect the host, +And onward to the southern coast! +The sun in his meridian tower +Gives glory to the Vánar power. +The demon lord who stole my queen +By timely flight his life may screen. +She, when she knows her lord is near, +Will cling to hope and banish fear, +Saved like a dying wretch who sips +The drink of Gods with fevered lips. +Arise, thy troops to battle lead: +All happy omens counsel speed. +The Lord of Stars in favouring skies +Bodes glory to our enterprise. +This arm shall slay the fiend; and she, +My consort, shall again be free. +Mine upward-throbbing eye foreshows +The longed-for triumph o'er my foes. +Far in the van be Níla's post, +To scan the pathway for the host, +And let thy bravest and thy best, +A hundred thousand, wait his hest. +Go forth, O warrior Níla, lead +The legions on through wood and mead +Where pleasant waters cool the ground, +And honey, flowers, and fruit abound. +Go, and with timely care prevent +The Rákshas foeman's dark intent. +With watchful troops each valley guard +Ere brooks and fruits and roots be marred +And search each glen and leafy shade +For hostile troops in ambuscade. +But let the weaklings stay behind: +For heroes is our task designed. +Let thousands of the Vánar breed +The vanguard of the armies lead: +Fierce and terrific must it be +As billows of the stormy sea. +There be the hill-huge Gaja's place, +And Gavaya's, strongest of his race, +And, like the bull that leads the herd, +Gaváksha's, by no fears deterred +Let Rishabh, matchless in the might +Of warlike arms, protect our right, +And Gandhamádan next in rank +Defend and guide the other flank. +I, like the God who rules the sky +Borne on Airávat(900) mounted high +On stout Hanúmán's back will ride, +The central host to cheer and guide. +Fierce as the God who rules below, +On Angad's back let Lakshman show +Like him who wealth to mortals shares,(901) +The lord whom Sárvabhauma(902) bears. +The bold Sushen's impetuous might, +And Vegadarsí's piercing sight, +And Jámbaván whom bears revere, +Illustrious three, shall guard the rear." + + He ceased, the royal Vánar heard, +And swift, obedient to his word, +Sprang forth in numbers none might tell +From mountain, cave, and bosky dell, +From rocky ledge and breezy height, +Fierce Vánars burning for the fight. +And Ráma's course was southward bent +Amid the mighty armament. +On, joyous, pressed in close array +The hosts who owned Sugríva's sway, +With nimble feet, with rapid bound +Exploring, ere they passed, the ground, +While from ten myriad throats rang out +The challenge and the battle shout. +On roots and honeycomb they fed, +And clusters from the boughs o'erhead, +Or from the ground the tall trees tore +Rich with the flowery load they bore. +Some carried comrades, wild with mirth, +Then cast their riders to the earth, +Who swiftly to their feet arose +And overthrew their laughing foes. +While still rang out the general cry, +"King Rávan and his fiends shall die," +Still on, exulting in the pride +Of conscious strength, the Vánars hied, +And gazed where noble Sahya, best +Of mountains, raised each towering crest. +They looked on lake and streamlet, where +The lotus bloom was bright and fair, +Nor marched--for Ráma's hest they feared +Where town or haunt of men appeared. +Still onward, fearful as the waves +Of Ocean when he roars and raves, +Led by their eager chieftains, went +The Vánars' countless armament. +Each captain, like a noble steed +Urged by the lash to double speed. +Pressed onward, filled with zeal and pride, +By Ráma's and his brother's side, +Who high above the Vánar throng +On mighty backs were borne along, +Like the great Lords of Day and Night +Seized by eclipsing planets might. +Then Lakshman radiant as the morn, +On Angad's shoulders high upborne. +With sweet consoling words that woke +New ardour, to his brother spoke: +"Soon shalt thou turn, thy queen regained +And impious Rávan's life-blood drained, +In happiness and high renown +To dear Ayodhyá's happy town. +I see around exceeding fair +All omens of the earth and air. +Auspicious breezes sweet and low +To greet the Vánar army blow, +And softly to my listening ear +Come the glad cries of bird and deer. +Bright is the sky around us, bright +Without a cloud the Lord of Light, +And Sukra(903) with propitious love +Looks on thee from his throne above. +The pole-star and the Sainted Seven(904) +Shine brightly in the northern heaven, +And great Trisanku,(905) glorious king, +Ikshváku's son from whom we spring, +Beams in unclouded glory near +His holy priest(906) whom all revere. +Undimmed the two Visákhás(907) shine, +The strength and glory of our line, +And Nairrit's(908) influence that aids +Our Rákshas foemen faints and fades. +The running brooks are fresh and fair, +The boughs their ripening clusters bear, +And scented breezes gently sway +The leaflet of the tender spray. +See, with a glory half divine +The Vánars' ordered legions shine, +Bright as the Gods' exultant train +Who saw the demon Tárak slain. +O let thine eyes these signs behold, +And bid thy heart be glad and bold." + + The Vánar squadrons densely spread +O'er all the country onward sped, +While rising from the rapid beat +Of bears' and monkeys' hastening feet. +Dust hid the earth with thickest veil, +And made the struggling sunbeams pale. +Now where Mahendra's peaks arise +Came Ráma of the lotus eyes +And the long arm's resistless might, +And clomb the mountain's wood-crowned height. +Thence Dasaratha's son beheld +Where billowy Ocean rose and swelled, +Past Malaya's peaks and Sahya's chain +The Vánar legions reached the main, +And stood in many a marshalled band +On loud-resounding Ocean's strand. +To the fair wood that fringed the tide +Came Dasaratha's son, and cried: +"At length, my lord Sugríva, we +Have reached King Varun's realm the sea, +And one great thought, still-vexing, how +To cross the flood, awaits us now. +The broad deep ocean, that denies +A passage, stretched before us lies. +Then let us halt and plan the while +How best to storm the giant's isle." + + He ceased: Sugríva on the coast +By trees o'ershadowed stayed the host, +That seemed in glittering lines to be +The bright waves of a second sea. +Then from the shore the captains gazed +On billows which the breezes raised +To fury, as they dashed in foam +O'er Varun's realm, the Asurs' home:(909) +The sea that laughed with foam, and danced +With waves whereon the sunbeams glanced: +Where, when the light began to fade, +Huge crocodiles and monsters played; +And, when the moon went up the sky, +The troubled billows rose on high +From the wild watery world whereon +A thousand moons reflected shone: +Where awful serpents swam and showed +Their fiery crests which flashed and glowed, +Illumining the depths of hell, +The prison where the demons dwell. +The eye, bewildered, sought in vain +The bounding line of sky and main: +Alike in shade, alike in glow +Were sky above and sea below. +There wave-like clouds by clouds were chased, +Here cloud-like billows roared and raced: +Then shone the stars, and many a gem +That lit the waters answered them. +They saw the great-souled Ocean stirred +To frenzy by the winds, and heard, +Loud as ten thousand drums, the roar +Of wild waves dashing on the shore. +They saw him mounting to defy +With deafening voice the troubled sky. +And the deep bed beneath him swell +In fury as the billows fell. + + + + +Canto V. Ráma's Lament. + + +There on the coast in long array +The Vánars' marshalled legions lay, +Where Níla's care had ordered well +The watch of guard and sentinel, +And Mainda moved from post to post +With Dwivid to protect the host. + + Then Ráma stood by Lakshman's side, +And mastered by his sorrow cried: +"My brother dear, the heart's distress, +As days wear on, grows less and less. +But my deep-seated grief, alas, +Grows fiercer as the seasons pass. +Though for my queen my spirit longs, +And broods indignant o'er my wrongs, +Still wilder is my grief to know +That her young life is passed in woe. +Breathe, gentle gale, O breathe where she +Lies prisoned, and then breathe on me, +And, though my love I may not meet, +Thy kiss shall be divinely sweet. +Ah, by the giant's shape appalled, +On her dear lord for help she called, +Still in mine ears the sad cry rings +And tears my heart with poison stings. +Through the long daylight and the gloom +Of night wild thoughts of her consume +My spirit, and my love supplies +The torturing flame which never dies. +Leave me, my brother; I will sleep +Couched on the bosom of the deep, +For the cold wave may bring me peace +And bid the fire of passion cease. +One only thought my stay must be, +That earth, one earth, holds her and me, +To hear, to know my darling lives +Some life-supporting comfort gives, +As streams from distant fountains run +O'er meadows parching in the sun. +Ah when, my foeman at my feet, +Shall I my queen, my glory, meet, +The blossom of her dear face raise +And on her eyes enraptured gaze, +Press her soft lips to mine again, +And drink a balm to banish pain! +Alas, alas! where lies she now, +My darling of the lovely brow? +On the cold earth, no help at hand, +Forlorn amid the Rákshas band, +King Janak's child still calls on me, +Her lord and love, to set her free. +But soon in glory will she rise +A crescent moon in autumn skies, +And those dark rovers of the night, +Like scattered clouds shall turn in flight." + + + + +Canto VI. Rávan's Speech. + + +But when the giant king surveyed +His glorious town in ruin laid, +And each dire sign of victory won +By Hanumán the Wind-God's son, +He vailed his angry eyes oppressed +By shame, and thus his lords addressed: +"The Vánar spy has passed the gate +Of Lanká long inviolate, +Eluded watch and ward, and seen +With his bold eyes the captive queen. +My royal roof with flames is red, +The bravest of my lords are dead, +And the fierce Vánar in his hate +Has left our city desolate. +Now ponder well the work that lies +Before us, ponder and advise. +With deep-observing judgment scan +The peril, and mature a plan. +From counsel, sages say, the root, +Springs victory, most glorious fruit. +First ranks the king, when woe impends +Who seeks the counsel of his friends, +Of kinsmen ever faithful found, +Or those whose hopes with his are bound, +Then with their aid his strength applies, +And triumphs in his enterprise. +Next ranks the prince who plans alone, +No counsel seeks to aid his own, +Weighs loss and gain and wrong and right, +And seeks success with earnest might. +Unwisest he who spurns delays, +Who counts no cost, no peril weighs, +Speeds to his aim, defying fate, +And risks his all, precipitate. +Thus too in counsel sages find +A best, a worst, a middle kind. +When gathered counsellors explore +The way by light of holy lore, +And all from first to last agree, +Is the best counsel of the three. +Next, if debate first waxes high, +And each his chosen plan would try +Till all agree at last, we deem +This counsel second in esteem. +Worst of the three is this, when each +Assails with taunt his fellow's speech; +When all debate, and no consent +Concludes the angry argument. +Consult then, lords; my task shall be +To crown with act your wise decree. +With thousands of his wild allies +The vengeful Ráma hither hies; +With unresisted might and speed +Across the flood his troops will lead, +Or for the Vánar host will drain +The channels of the conquered main." + + + + +Canto VII. Rávan Encouraged. + + +He ceased: they scorned, with blinded eyes, +The foeman and his bold allies, +Raised reverent hands with one accord, +And thus made answer to their lord: +"Why yield thee, King, to causeless fear? +A mighty host with sword and spear +And mace and axe and pike and lance +Waits but thy signal to advance. +Art thou not he who slew of old +The Serpent-Gods, and stormed their hold; +Scaled Mount Kailása and o'erthrew +Kuvera(910) and his Yaksha crew, +Compelling Siva's haughty friend +Beneath a mightier arm to bend? +Didst thou not bring from realms afar +The marvel of the magic car, +When they who served Kuvera fell +Crushed in their mountain citadel? +Attracted by thy matchless fame +To thee, a suppliant, Maya came, +The lord of every Dánav band, +And won thee with his daughter's hand. +Thy arm in hell itself was felt, +Where Vásuki(911) and Sankha dwelt, +And they and Takshak, overthrown, +Were forced thy conquering might to own. +The Gods in vain their blessing gave +To heroes bravest of the brave, +Who strove a year and, sorely pressed, +Their victor's peerless might confessed. +In vain their magic arts they tried, +In vain thy matchless arm defied +King Varun's sons with fourfold force, +Cars, elephants, and foot, and horse, +But for a while thy power withstood, +And, conquered, mourned their hardihood. +Thou hast encountered, face to face, +King Yáma(912) with his murdering mace. +Fierce as the wild tempestuous sea, +What terror had his wrath for thee, +Though death in every threatening form, +And woe and torment, urged the storm? +Thine arm a glorious victory won +O'er the dread king who pities none; +And the three worlds, from terror freed, +In joyful wonder praised thy deed. +The tribe of Warriors, strong and dread +As Indra's self, o'er earth had spread; +As giant trees that towering stand +In mountain glens, they filled the land. +Can Raghu's son encounter foes +Fierce, numerous, and strong as those? +Yet, trained in war and practised well, +O'ermatched by thee, they fought and fell, +Stay in thy royal home, nor care +The battle and the toil to share; +But let the easy fight be won +By Indrajít(913) thy matchless son. +All, all shall die, if thou permit, +Slain by the hand of Indrajít." + + + + +Canto VIII. Prahasta's Speech. + + +Dark as a cloud of autumn, dread +Prahasta joined his palms and said: + + "Gandharvas, Gods, the hosts who dwell +In heaven, in air, in earth, in hell, +Have yielded to thy might, and how +Shall two weak men oppose thee now? +Hanúmán came, a foe disguised, +And mocked us heedless and surprised, +Or never had he lived to flee +And boast that he has fought with me. +Command, O King, and this right hand +Shall sweep the Vánars from the land, +And hill and dale, to Ocean's shore, +Shall know the death-doomed race no more. +But let my care the means devise +To guard thy city from surprise." + + Then Durmukh cried, of Rákshas race: +"Too long we brook the dire disgrace. +He gave our city to the flames, +He trod the chambers of thy dames. +Ne'er shall so weak and vile a thing +Unpunished brave the giants' king. +Now shall this single arm attack +And drive the daring Vánars back, +Till to the winds of heaven they flee, +Or seek the depths of earth and sea." + + Then, brandishing the mace he bore, +Whose horrid spikes were stained with gore, +While fury made his eyeballs red, +Impetuous Vajradanshtra said: + + "Why waste a thought on one so vile +As Hanúmán the Vánar, while +Sugríva, Lakshman, yet remain, +And Ráma mightier still, unslain? +This mace to-day shall crush the three, +And all the host will turn and flee. +Listen, and I will speak: incline, +O King, to hear these words of mine, +For the deep plan that I propose +Will swiftly rid thee of thy foes. +Let thousands of thy host assume +The forms of men in youthful bloom, +In war's magnificent array +Draw near to Raghu's son, and say: +"Thy younger brother Bharat sends +This army, and thy cause befriends." +Then let our legions hasten near +With bow and mace and sword and spear, +And on the Vánar army rain +Our steel and stone till all be slain. +If Raghu's sons will fain believe, +Entangled in the net we weave, +The penalty they both must pay, +And lose their forfeit lives to-day." +Then with his warrior soul on fire, +Nikumbha spoke in burning ire: + + "I, only I, will take the field, +And Raghu's son his life shall yield. +Within these walls, O Chiefs, abide, +Nor part ye from our monarch's side." + + + + +Canto IX. Vibhishan's Counsel. + + +A score of warriors(914) forward sprang, +And loud the clashing iron rang +Of mace and axe and spear and sword, +As thus they spake unto their lord: +"Their king Sugríva will we slay, +And Raghu's sons, ere close of day, +And strike the wretch Hanúmán down, +The spoiler of our golden town." + + But sage Vibhishan strove to calm +The chieftains' fury; palm to palm +He joined in lowly reverence, pressed(915) +Before them, and the throng addressed: + + "Dismiss the hope of conquering one +So stern and strong as Raghu's son. +In due control each sense he keeps +With constant care that never sleeps. +Whose daring heart has e'er conceived +The exploit Hanumán achieved, +Across the fearful sea to spring, +The tributary rivers' king? +O Rákshas lords, in time be wise, +Nor Ráma's matchless power despise. +And say, what evil had the son +Of Raghu to our monarch done, +Who stole the dame he loved so well +And keeps her in his citadel; +If Khara in his foolish pride +Encountered Ráma, fought, and died, +May not the meanest love his life +And guard it in the deadly strife? +The Maithil dame, O Rákshas King, +Sore peril to thy realm will bring. +Restore her while there yet is time, +Nor let us perish for thy crime. +O, let the Maithil lady go +Ere the avenger bend his bow +To ruin with his arrowy showers +Our Lanká with her gates and towers. +Let Janak's child again be free +Ere the wild Vánars cross the sea, +In their resistless might assail +Our city and her ramparts scale. +Ah, I conjure thee by the ties +Of brotherhood, be just and wise. +In all my thoughts thy good I seek, +And thus my prudent counsel speak. +Let captive Sítá be restored +Ere, fierce as autumn's sun, her lord +Send his keen arrows from the string +To drink the life-blood of our king. +This fury from thy soul dismiss, +The bane of duty, peace, and bliss. +Seek duty's path and walk therein, +And joy and endless glory win. +Restore the captive, ere we feel +The piercing point of Ráma's steel. +O spare thy city, spare the lives +Of us, our friends, our sons and wives." + + Thus spake Vibhishan wise and brave: +The Rákshas king no answer gave, +But bade his lords the council close, +And sought his chamber for repose. + + + + +Canto X. Vibhishan's Counsel. + + +Soon as the light of morning broke, +Vibhishan from his slumber woke, +And, duty guiding every thought, +The palace of his brother sought. +Vast as a towering hill that shows +His peaks afar, that palace rose. +Here stood within the monarch's gate +Sage nobles skilful in debate. +There strayed in glittering raiment through +The courts his royal retinue, +Where in wild measure rose and fell +The music of the drum and shell, +And talk grew loud, and many a dame +Of fairest feature went and came +Through doors a marvel to behold, +With pearl inlaid on burning gold: +Therein Gandharvas or the fleet +Lords of the storm might joy to meet. +He passed within the wondrous pile, +Chief glory of the giants' isle: +Thus, ere his fiery course be done, +An autumn cloud admits the sun. +He heard auspicious voices raise +With loud accord the note of praise, +And sages, deep in Scripture, sing +Each glorious triumph of the king. +He saw the priests in order stand, +Curd, oil, in every sacred hand; +And by them flowers were laid and grain, +Due offerings to the holy train. +Vibhishan to the monarch bowed, +Raised on a throne above the crowd: +Then, skilled in arts of soft address, +He raised his voice the king to bless, +And sate him on a seat where he +Full in his brother's sight should be. +The chieftain there, while none could hear, +Spoke his true speech for Rávan's ear, +And to his words of wisdom lent +The force of weightiest argument: + + "O brother, hear! since Ráma's queen +A captive in thy house has been, +Disastrous omens day by day +Have struck our souls with wild dismay. +No longer still and strong and clear +The flames of sacrifice appear, +But, restless with the frequent spark, +Neath clouds of smoke grow faint and dark. +Our ministering priests turn pale +To see their wonted offerings fail, +And ants and serpents creep and crawl +Within the consecrated hall.(916) +Dried are the udders of our cows, +Our elephants have juiceless brows,(917) +Nor can the sweetest pasture stay +The charger's long unquiet neigh. +Big tears from mules and camels flow +Whose staring coats their trouble show, +Nor can the leech's art restore +Their health and vigour as before. +Rapacious birds are fierce and bold: +Not single hunters as of old, +In banded troops they chase the prey, +Or gathering on our temples stay. +Through twilight hours with shriek and howl +Around the city jackals prowl, +And wolves and foul hyænas wait +Athirst for blood at every gate. +One sole atonement still may cure +These evils, and our weal assure. +Restore the Maithil dame, and win +An easy pardon for thy sin." + + The Rákshas monarch heard, and moved +To sudden wrath his speech reproved: + + "No danger, brother, can I see: +The Maithil dame I will not free. +Though all the Gods for Ráma fight, +He yields to my superior might." +Thus the tremendous king who broke +The ranks of heavenly warriors spoke, +And, sternly purposed to resist, +His brother from the hall dismissed. + + + + +Canto XI. The Summons. + + +Still Rávan's haughty heart rebelled, +The counsel of the wise repelled, +And, as his breast with passion burned, +His thoughts again to Sítá turned. +Thus, to each sign of danger blind, +To love and war he still inclined. +Then mounted he his car that glowed +With gems and golden net, and rode +Where, gathered at the monarch's call, +The nobles filled the council hall. +A host of warriors bright and gay +With coloured robes and rich array, +With shield and mace and spear and sword, +Followed the chariot of their lord. +Mid the loud voice of shells and beat +Of drums he raced along the street, +And, ere he came, was heard afar +The rolling thunder of his car. +He reached the doors: the nobles bent +Their heads before him reverent: +And, welcomed with their loud acclaim, +Within the glorious hall he came. +He sat upon a royal seat +With golden steps beneath his feet, +And bade the heralds summon all +His captains to the council hall. +The heralds heard the words he spake, +And sped from house to house to wake +The giants where they slept or spent +The careless hours in merriment. +These heard the summons and obeyed: +From chamber, grove, and colonnade, +On elephants or cars they rode, +Or through the streets impatient strode. +As birds on rustling pinions fly +Through regions of the darkened sky, +Thus cars and mettled coursers through +The crowded streets of Lanká flew. +The council hall was reached, and then, +As lions seek their mountain den, +Through massy doors that opened wide, +With martial stalk the captains hied. +Welcomed with honour as was meet +They stooped to press their monarch's feet, +And each a place in order found +On stool, on cushion, or the ground. +Nor did the sage Vibhishan long +Delay to join the noble throng. +High on a car that shone like flame +With gold and flashing gems he came, +Drew near and spoke his name aloud, +And reverent to his brother bowed. + + + + +Canto XII. Rávan's Speech. + + +The king in counsel unsurpassed +His eye around the synod cast, +And fierce Prahasta, first and best +Of all his captains, thus addressed: + + "Brave master of each warlike art, +Arouse thee and perform thy part. +Array thy fourfold forces(918) well +To guard our isle and citadel." + + The captain of the hosts obeyed, +The troops with prudent skill arrayed; +Then to the hall again he hied, +And stood before the king and cried: +"Each inlet to the town is closed +Without, within, are troops disposed. +With fearless heart thine aim pursue +And do the deed thou hast in view." + + Thus spoke Prahasta in the zeal +That moved him for the kingdom's weal. +And thus the monarch, who pursued +His own delight, his speech renewed: +"In ease and bliss, in toil and pain, +In doubts of duty, pleasure, gain, +Your proper path I need not tell, +For of yourselves ye know it well. +The Storm-Gods, Moon, and planets bring +New glory to their heavenly king,(919) +And, ranged about your monarch, ye +Give joy and endless fame to me. +My secret counsel have I kept, +While senseless Kumbhakarna slept. +Six months the warrior's slumbers last +And bind his torpid senses fast; +But now his deep repose he breaks, +The best of all our champions wakes. +I captured, Ráma's heart to wring, +This daughter of Videha's king. +And brought her from that distant land(920) +Where wandered many a Rákshas band. +Disdainful still my love she spurns, +Still from each prayer and offering turns, +Yet in all lands beneath the sun +No dame may rival Sítá, none, +Her dainty waist is round and slight, +Her cheek like autumn's moon is bright, +And she like fruit in graven gold +Mocks her(921) whom Maya framed of old. +Faultless in form, how firmly tread +Her feet whose soles are rosy red! +Ah, as I gaze her beauty takes +My spirit, and my passion wakes. +Looking for Ráma far away +She sought with tears a year's delay +Nor gazing on her love-lit eye +Could I that earnest prayer deny. +But baffled hopes and vain desire +At length my patient spirit tire. +How shall the sons of Raghu sweep +To vengeance o'er the pathless deep? +How shall they lead the Vánar train +Across the monster-teeming main? +One Vánar yet could find a way +To Lanká's town, and burn and slay. +Take counsel then, remembering still +That we from men need fear no ill; +And give your sentence in debate, +For matchless is the power of fate. +Assailed by you the Gods who dwell +In heaven beneath our fury fell. +And shall we fear these creatures bred +In forests, by Sugríva led? +E'en now on ocean's farther strand, +The sons of Dasaratha stand, +And follow, burning to attack +Their giant foes, on Sítá's track. +Consult then, lords for ye are wise: +A seasonable plan devise. +The captive lady to retain, +And triumph when the foes are slain. +No power can bring across the foam +Those Vánars to our island home; +Or if they madly will defy +Our conquering might, they needs must die." + + Then Kumbhakarna's anger woke, +And wroth at Rávan's words he spoke: +"O Monarch, when thy ravished eyes +First looked upon thy lovely prize, +Then was the time to bid us scan +Each peril and mature a plan. +Blest is the king who acts with heed, +And ne'er repents one hasty deed; +And hapless he whose troubled soul +Mourns over days beyond control. +Thou hast, in beauty's toils ensnared, +A desperate deed of boldness dared; +By fortune saved ere Ráma's steel +One wound, thy mortal bane, could deal. +But, Rávan, as the deed is done, +The toil of war I will not shun. +This arm, O rover of the night, +Thy foemen to the earth shall smite, +Though Indra with the Lord of Flame, +The Sun and Storms, against me came. +E'en Indra, monarch of the skies, +Would dread my club and mountain size, +Shrink from these teeth and quake to hear +The thunders of my voice of fear. +No second dart shall Ráma cast: +The first he aims shall be the last. +He falls, and these dry lips shall drain +The blood of him my hand has slain; +And Sítá, when her champion dies, +Shall be thine undisputed prize." + + + + +Canto XIII. Rávan's Speech. + + +But Mahápársva saw the sting +Of keen reproach had galled the king; +And humbly, eager to appease +His anger, spoke in words like these: + + "And breathes there one so cold and weak +The forest and the gloom to seek +Where savage beasts abound, and spare +To taste the luscious honey there? +Art thou not lord? and who is he +Shall venture to give laws to thee? +Love thy Videhan still, and tread +Upon thy prostrate foeman's head. +O'er Sítá's will let thine prevail, +And strength achieve if flattery fail. +What though the lady yet be coy +And turn her from the proffered joy? +Soon shall her conquered heart relent +And yield to love and blandishment. +With us let Kumbhakarna fight, +And Indrajít of matchless might: +We need not other champions, they +Shall lead us forth to rout and slay. +Not ours to bribe or soothe or part +The foeman's force with gentle art, +Doomed, conquered by our might, to feel +The vengeance of the warrior's steel." + + The Rákshas monarch heard, and moved +By flattering hopes the speech approved: + + "Hear me," he cried, "great chieftain, tell +What in the olden time befell,-- +A secret tale which, long suppressed, +Lies prisoned only in my breast. +One day--a day I never forget-- +Fair Punjikasthalá(922) I met, +When, radiant as a flame of fire, +She sought the palace of the Sire. +In passion's eager grasp I tore +From her sweet limbs the robes she wore, +And heedless of her prayers and cries +Strained to my breast the vanquised prize. +Like Naliní(923) with soil distained, +The mansion of the Sire she gained, +And weeping made the outrage known +To Brahmá on his heavenly throne. +He in his wrath pronounced a curse,-- +That lord who made the universe: +"If, Rávan, thou a second time +Be guilty of so foul a crime, +Thy head in shivers shall be rent: +Be warned, and dread the punishment." +Awed by the threat of vengeance still +I force not Sítá's stubborn will. +Terrific as the sea in might: +My steps are like the Storm-Gods' flight; +But Ráma knows not this, or he +Had never sought to war with me. +Where is the man would idly brave +The lion in his mountain cave, +And wake him when with slumbering eyes +Grim, terrible as Death, he lies? +No, blinded Ráma knows me not: +Ne'er has he seen mine arrows shot; +Ne'er marked them speeding to their aim +Like snakes with cloven tongues of flame. +On him those arrows will I turn, +Whose fiery points shall rend and burn. +Quenched by my power when I assail +The glory of his might shall fail, +As stars before the sun grow dim +And yield their feeble light to him." + + + + +Canto XIV. Vibhishan's Speech. + + + He ceased: Vibhishan ill at ease +Addressed the king in words like these: + + "O Rávan, O my lord, beware +Of Sítá dangerous as fair, +Nor on thy heedless bosom hang +This serpent with a deadly fang. +O King, the Maithil dame restore +To Raghu's matchless son before +Those warriors of the woodlands, vast +As mountain peaks, approaching fast, +Armed with fierce teeth and claws, enclose +Thy city with unsparing foes. +O, be the Maithil dame restored +Ere loosened from the clanging cord +The vengeful shafts of Ráma fly, +And low in death thy princes lie. +In all thy legions hast thou one +A match in war for Raghu's son? +Can Kumbhakarna's self withstand, +Or Indrajít, that mighty hand? +In vain with Ráma wilt thou strive: +Thou wilt not save thy soul alive +Though guarded by the Lord of Day +And Storm-Gods' terrible array, +In vain to Indra wilt thou fly, +Or seek protection in the sky, +In Yáma's gloomy mansion dwell, +Or hide thee in the depths of hell." + + He ceased; and when his lips were closed +Prahasta thus his rede opposed: + + "O timid heart, to counsel thus! +What terrors have the Gods for us? +Can snake, Gandharva, fiend appal +The giants' sons who scorn them all? +And shall we now our birth disgrace, +And dread a king of human race?" +Thus fierce Prahasta counselled ill: +But sage Vibhishan's constant will +The safety of the realm ensued; +Who thus in turn his speech renewed: + + "Yes, when a soul defiled with sin +Shall mount to heaven and enter in, +Then, chieftain, will experience teach +The truth of thy disdainful speech. +Can I, or thou, or these or all +Our bravest compass Ráma's fall, +The chief in whom all virtues shine, +The pride of old Ikshváku'a line, +With whom the Gods may scarce compare +In skill to act, in heart to dare? +Yea, idly mayst thou vaunt thee, till +Sharp arrows winged with matchless skill +From Ráma's bowstring, fleet and fierce +As lightning's flame, thy body pierce. +Nikumbha shall not save thee then, +Nor Rávan, from the lord of men. +O Monarch, hear my last appeal, +My counsel for thy kingdom's weal. +This sentence I again declare: +O giant King, beware, beware! +Save from the ruin that impends +Thy town, thy people, and thy friends; +O hear the warning urged once more: +To Raghu's son the dame restore." + + + + +Canto XV. Indrajít's Speech. + + +He ceased: and Indrajít the pride +Of Rákshas warriors thus replied: + + "Is this a speech our king should hear, +This counsel of ignoble fear? +A scion of our glorious race +Should ne'er conceive a thought so base, +But one mid all our kin we find, +Vibhishan, whose degenerate mind +No spark of gallant pride retains, +Whose coward soul his lineage stains. +Against one giant what can two +Unhappy sons of Raghu do? +Away with idle fears, away! +Matched with our meanest, what are they? +Beneath my conquering prowess fell +The Lord of earth and heaven and hell.(924) +Through every startled region dread +Of my resistless fury spread; +And Gods in each remotest sphere +Confessed the universal fear. +Rending the air with roar and groan, +Airávat(925) to the earth was thrown. +From his huge head the tusks I drew, +And smote the Gods with fear anew. +Shall I who tame celestials' pride, +By whom the fiends are terrified, +Now prove a weakling little worth, +And fail to slay those sons of earth?" + + He ceased: Vibhishan trained and tried +In war and counsel thus replied + + "Thy speech is marked with scorn of truth, +With rashness and the pride of youth. +Yea, to thy ruin like a child +Thou pratest, and thy words are wild. +Most dear, O Indrajít, to thee +Should Rávan's weal and safety be, +For thou art called his son, but thou +Art proved his direst foeman now, +When warned by me thou hast not tried +To turn the coming woe aside. +Both thee and him 'twere meet to slay, +Who brought thee to this hall to-day, +And dared so rash a youth admit +To council where the wisest sit. +Presumptuous, wild, devoid of sense, +Filled full of pride and insolence, +Thy reckless tongue thou wilt not rule +That speaks the counsel of a fool. +Who in the fight may brook or shun +The arrows shot by Raghu's son +With flame and fiery vengeance sped, +Dire as his staff who rules the dead? +O Rávan, let thy people live, +And to the son of Raghu give +Fair robes and gems and precious ore, +And Sítá to his arms restore." + + + + +Canto XVI. Rávan's Speech. + + +Then, while his breast with fury swelled, +Thus Rávan spoke, as fate impelled: + + "Better with foes thy dwelling make, +Or house thee with the venomed snake, +Than live with false familiar friends +Who further still thy foeman's ends. +I know their treacherous mood, I know +Their secret triumph at thy woe. +They in their inward hearts despise +The brave, the noble, and the wise, +Grieve at their bliss with rancorous hate, +And for their sorrows watch and wait: +Scan every fault with curious eye, +And each slight error magnify. +Ask elephants who roam the wild +How were their captive friends beguiled. +"For fire," they cry, "we little care, +For javelin and shaft and snare: +Our foes are traitors, taught to bind +The trusting creatures of their kind." +Still, still, shall blessings flow from cows,(926) +And Bráhmans love their rigorous vows; +Still woman change her restless will, +And friends perfidious work us ill. +What though with conquering feet I tread +On every prostrate foeman's head; +What though the worlds in abject fear +Their mighty lord in me revere? +This thought my peace of mind destroys +And robs me of expected joys. +The lotus of the lake receives +The glittering rain that gems its leaves, +But each bright drop remains apart: +So is it still with heart and heart. +Deceitful as an autumn cloud +Which, though its thunderous voice be loud, +On the dry earth no torrent sends, +Such is the race of faithless friends. +No riches of the bloomy spray +Will tempt the wandering bee to stay +That loves from flower to flower to range; +And friends like thee are swift to change. +Thou blot upon thy glorious line, +If any giant's tongue but thine +Had dared to give this base advice, +He should not live to shame me twice." + + Then just Vibhishan in the heat +Of anger started from his seat, +And with four captains of the band +Sprang forward with his mace in hand; +Then, fury flashing from his eye, +Looked on the king and made reply: + + "Thy rights, O Rávan, I allow: +My brother and mine elder thou. +Such, though from duty's path they stray, +We love like fathers and obey, +But still too bitter to be borne +Is thy harsh speech of cruel scorn. +The rash like thee, who spurn control, +Nor check one longing of the soul, +Urged by malignant fate repel +The faithful friend who counsels well. +A thousand courtiers wilt thou meet, +With flattering lips of smooth deceit: +But rare are they whose tongue or ear +Will speak the bitter truth, or hear. +Unclose thy blinded eyes and see +That snares of death encompass thee. +I dread, my brother, to behold +The shafts of Ráma, bright with gold, +Flash fury through the air, and red +With fires of vengeance strike thee dead. +Lord, brother, King, again reflect, +Nor this mine earnest prayer reject, +O, save thyself, thy royal town, +Thy people and thine old renown." + + + + +Canto XVII. Vibhishan's Flight. + + +Soon as his bitter words were said, +To Raghu's sons Vibhishan fled.(927) +Their eyes the Vánar leaders raised +And on the air-borne Rákhshas gazed, +Bright as a thunderbolt, in size +Like Meru's peak that cleaves the skies. +In gorgeous panoply arrayed +Like Indra's self he stood displayed, +And four attendants brave and bold +Shone by their chief in mail and gold. +Sugríva then with dark surmise +Bent on their forms his wondering eyes, +And thus in hasty words confessed +The anxious doubt that moved his breast: + + "Look, look ye Vánars, and beware: +That giant chief sublime in air +With other four in bright array +Comes armed to conquer and to slay." +Soon as his warning speech they heard, +The Vánar chieftains undeterred +Seized fragments of the rock and trees, +And made reply in words like these: +"We wait thy word: the order give, +And these thy foes shall cease to live. +Command us, mighty King, and all +Lifeless upon the earth shall fall." + + Meanwhile Vibhishan with the four +Stood high above the ocean shore. +Sugríva and the chiefs he spied, +And raised his mighty voice and cried: +"From Rávan, lord of giants, I +His brother, named Vibhishan, fly. +From Janasthán he stole the child +Of Janak by his art beguiled, +And in his palace locked and barred +Surrounds her with a Rákshas guard. +I bade him, plied with varied lore, +His hapless prisoner restore. +But he, by Fate to ruin sent, +No credence to my counsel lent, +Mad as the fevered wretch who sees +And scorns the balm to bring him ease. +He scorned the sage advice I gave, +He spurned me like a base-born slave. +I left my children and my wife, +And fly to Raghu's son for life. +I pray thee, Vánar chieftain, speed +To him who saves in hour of need, +And tell him famed in distant lands +That suppliant here Vibhishan stands." + + The Rákshas ceased: Sugríva hied +To Raghu's noble son and cried: + + "A stranger from the giant host, +Borne o'er the sea, has reached the coast; +A secret foe, he comes to slay, +As owls attack their heedless prey. +'Tis thine, O King, in time of need +To watch, to counsel, and to lead, +Our Vánar legions to dispose, +And guard us from our crafty foes. +Vibhishan from the giants' isle, +King Rávan's brother, comes with guile +And, feigning from his king to flee, +Seeks refuge, Raghu's son, with thee. +Arise, O Ráma, and prevent +By bold attack his dark intent. +Who comes in friendly guise prepared +To slay thee by his arts ensnared." + + Thus urged Sugríva famed for lore +Of moving words, and spoke no more. +Then Ráma thus in turn addressed +The bold Hanúmán and the rest: +"Chiefs of the Vánar legions each +Of you heard Sugríva's speech. +What think ye now in time of fear, +When peril and distress are near, +In every doubt the wise depend +For counsel on a faithful friend." + + They heard his gracious words, and then +Spake reverent to the lord of men: +"O Raghu's son, thou knowest well +All things of heaven and earth and hell. +'Tis but thy friendship bids us speak +The counsel Ráma need not seek. +So duteous, brave, and true art thou, +Heroic, faithful to thy vow. +Deep in the scriptures, trained and tried, +Still in thy friends wilt thou confide. +Let each of us in turn impart +The secret counsel of his heart, +And strive to win his chief's assent, +By force of wisest argument." + + They ceased and Angad thus began: +"With jealous eye the stranger scan: +Not yet with trusting heart receive +Vibhishan, nor his tale believe. +These giants wandering far and wide +Their evil nature falsely hide, +And watching with malignant skill +Assail us when we fear no ill. +Well ponder every hope and fear +Until thy doubtful course be clear; +Then own his merit or detect +His guile, and welcome or reject." + + Then Sarabha the bold and brave +In turn his prudent sentence gave: +"Yea, Ráma, send a skilful spy +With keenest tact to test and try. +Then let the stranger, as is just, +Obtain or be refused thy trust." + + Then he whose heart was rich in store +Of scripture's life-directing lore, +King Jámbaván, stood forth and cried: +"Suspect, suspect a foe allied +With Rávan lord of Lanká's isle, +And Rákshas sin and Rákshas guile." + + Then Mainda, wisest chief, who knew +The wrong, the right, the false, the true, +Pondered a while, then silence broke, +And thus his sober counsel spoke: + + "Let one with gracious speech draw near +And gently charm Vibhishan's ear, +Till he the soothing witchery feel +And all his secret heart reveal. +So thou his aims and hopes shalt know, +And hail the friend or shun the foe." + + "Not he," Hanúmán cried, "not he +Who taught the Gods(928) may rival thee, +Supreme in power of quickest sense, +First in the art of eloquence. +But hear me soothly speak, O King, +And learn the hope to which I cling. +Vibhishan comes no crafty spy: +Urged by his brother's fault to fly. +With righteous soul that loathes the sin, +He fled from Lanká and his kin. +If strangers question, doubt will rise +And chill the heart of one so wise. +Marred by distrust the parle will end, +And thou wilt lose a faithful friend. +Nor let it seem so light a thing +To sound a stranger's heart, O King. +And he, I ween, whate'er he say, +Will ne'er an evil thought betray. +He comes a friend in happy time, +Loathing his brother for his crime. +His ear has heard thine old renown, +The might that struck King Báli down, +And set Sugríva on the throne. +And looking now to thee alone +He comes thy matchless aid to win +And punish Rávan for his sin. +Thus have I tried thy heart to move, +And thus Vibhishan's truth to prove. +Still in his friendship I confide; +But ponder, wisest, and decide." + + + + +Canto XVIII. Ráma's Speech. + + +Then Ráma's rising doubt was stilled, +And friendly thoughts his bosom filled. +Thus, deep in Scripture's lore, he spake: +"The suppliant will I ne'er forsake, +Nor my protecting aid refuse +When one in name of friendship sues. +Though faults and folly blot his fame, +Pity and help he still may claim." + + He ceased: Sugríva bowed his head +And pondered for a while, and said: + + "Past number be his faults or few, +What think ye of the Rákshas who, +When threatening clouds of danger rise, +Deserts his brother's side and flies? +Say, Vánars, who may hope to find +True friendship in his faithless kind?" + + The son of Raghu heard his speech: +He cast a hasty look on each +Of those brave Vánar chiefs, and while +Upon his lips there played a smile, +To Lakshman turned and thus expressed +The thoughts that moved his gallant breast: +"Well versed in Scripture's lore, and sage +And duly reverent to age, +Is he, with long experience stored, +Who counsels like this Vánar lord. +Yet here, methinks, for searching eyes +Some deeper, subtler matter lies. +To you and all the world are known +The perils of a monarch's throne, +While foe and stranger, kith and kin +By his misfortune trust to win. +By hope of such advantage led, +Vibhishan o'er the sea has fled. +He in his brother's stead would reign, +And our alliance seeks to gain; +And we his offer may embrace, +A stranger and of alien race. +But if he comes a spy and foe, +What power has he to strike a blow +In furtherance of his close design? +What is his strength compared with mine? +And can I, Vánar King, forget +The great, the universal debt, +Ever to aid and welcome those +Who pray for shelter, friends or foes? +Hast thou not heard the deathless praise +Won by the dove in olden days, +Who conquering his fear and hate +Welcomed the slayer of his mate, +And gave a banquet, to refresh +The weary fowler, of his flesh? +Now hear me, Vánar King, rehearse +What Kandu(929) spoke in ancient verse, +Saint Kanva's son who loved the truth +And clave to virtue from his youth: +"Strike not the suppliant when he stands +And asks thee with beseeching hands +For shelter: strike him not although +He were thy father's mortal foe. +No, yield him, be he proud or meek, +The shelter which he comes to seek, +And save thy foeman, if the deed +Should cost thy life, in desperate need." +And shall I hear the wretched cry, +And my protecting aid deny? +Shall I a suppliant's prayer refuse, +And heaven and glory basely lose? +No, I will do for honour sake +E'en as the holy Kandu spake, +Preserve a hero's name from stain, +And bliss in heaven and glory gain. +Bound by a solemn vow I sware +That all my saving help should share +Who sought me in distress and cried, +"Thou art my hope, and none beside." +Then go, I pray thee, Vánar King, +Vibhishan to my presence bring, +Yea, were he Rávan's self, my vow +Forbids me to reject him now." + + He ceased: the Vánar king approved; +And Ráma toward Vibhishan moved. +So moves, a brother God to greet, +Lord Indra from his heavenly seat. + + + + +Canto XIX. Vibhishan's Counsel. + + +When Raghu's son had owned his claim +Down from the air Vibhishan came, +And with his four attendants bent +At Ráma's feet most reverent. + + "O Ráma," thus he cried, "in me +Vibhishan, Rávan's brother see. +By him disgraced thine aid I seek, +Sure refuge of the poor and weak. +From Lanká, friends, and wealth I fly, +And reft of all on thee rely. +On thee, the wretch's firmest friend, +My kingdom, joys, and life depend." + + With glance of favour Ráma eyed +The Rákshas chief and thus replied: + + "First from thy lips I fain would hear +Each brighter hope, each darker fear. +Speak, stranger, that I well may know +The strength and weakness of the foe." + + He ceased: the Rákshas chief obeyed, +And thus in turn his answer made: + + "O Prince, the Self-existent gave +This boon to Rávan; he may brave +All foes in fight; no fiend or snake, +Gandharva, God, his life may take. +His brother Kumbhakarna vies +In might with him who rules the skies. +The captain of his armies--fame +Perhaps has taught the warrior's name-- +Is terrible Prahasta, who +King Manibhadra's(930) self o'erthrew. +Where is the warrior found to face +Young Indrajít, when armed with brace +And guard(931) and bow he stands in mail +And laughs at spear and arrowy hail? +Within his city Lanká dwell +Ten million giants fierce and fell, +Who wear each varied shape at will +And eat the flesh of those they kill. +These hosts against the Gods he led, +And heavenly might discomfited." + + Then Ráma cried: "I little heed +Gigantic strength or doughty deed. +In spite of all their might has done +The king, the captain, and the son +Shall fall beneath my fury dead, +And thou shalt reign in Rávan's stead. +He, though in depths of earth he dwell, +Or seek protection down in hell, +Or kneel before the Sire supreme, +His forfeit life shall ne'er redeem. +Yea, by my brothers' lives I swear, +I will not to my home repair +Till Rávan and his kith and kin +Have paid in death the price of sin." + + Vibhishan bowed his head and cried: +"Thy conquering army will I guide +To storm the city of the foe, +And aid the tyrant's overthrow." +Thus spake Vibhishan: Ráma pressed +The Rákshas chieftain to his breast, +And cried to Lakshman: "Haste and bring +Sea-water for the new-made king." +He spoke, and o'er Vibhishan's head +The consecrating drops were shed +Mid shouts that hailed with one accord +The giants' king and Lanká's lord. + + "Is there no way," Hanúmán cried, +"No passage o'er the boisterous tide? +How may we lead the Vánar host +In triumph to the farther coast?" +"Thus," said Vibhishan, "I advise: +Let Raghu's son in suppliant guise +Entreat the mighty Sea to lend +His succour and this cause befriend. +His channels, as the wise have told, +By Sagar's sons were dug of old,(932) +Nor will high-thoughted Ocean scorn +A prince of Sagar's lineage born." + + He ceased; the prudent counsel won +The glad assent of Raghu's son. +Then on the ocean shore a bed +Of tender sacred grass was spread, +Where Ráma at the close of day +Like fire upon an altar lay. + + + + +Canto XX. The Spies. + + +Sárdúla, Rávan's spy, surveyed +The legions on the strand arrayed. +And bore, his bosom racked with fear, +These tidings to the monarch's ear: + + "They come, they come. A rushing tide, +Ten leagues they spread from side to side, +And on to storm thy city press, +Fierce rovers of the wilderness. +Rich in each princely power and grace, +The pride of Dasaratha's race, +Ráma and Lakshman lead their bands, +And halt them on the ocean sands. +O Monarch, rise, this peril meet; +Risk not the danger of defeat. +First let each wiser art be tried; +Bribe them, or win them, or divide." +Such was the counsel of the spy: +And Rávan called to Suka: "Fly, +Sugríva lord of Vánars seek, +And thus my kingly message speak: +"Great power and might and fame are thine, +Brave scion of a royal line, +King Riksharajas' son, in thee +A brother and a friend I see. +How wronged by me canst thou complain? +What profit here pretend to gain? +If from the wood the wife I stole +Of Ráma of the prudent soul, +What cause hast thou to mourn the theft? +Thou art not injured or bereft. +Return, O King, thy steps retrace +And seek thy mountain dwelling-place. +No, never may thy hosts within +My Lanká's walls a footing win. +A mighty town whose strength defies +The gathered armies of the skies." + + He ceased: obedient Suka heard; +With wings and plumage of a bird +He rose in eager speed and through +The air upon his errand flew. +Borne o'er the sea with rapid wing +He stood above the Vánar king, +And spoke aloud, sublime in air, +The message he was charged to bear. +The Vánar heard the words he spoke, +And quick redoubling stroke on stroke +On head and pinions hemmed him round +And bore him struggling to the ground. +The Rákshas wounded and distressed +These words to Raghu's son addressed: + + "Quick, quick! This Vánar host restrain, +For heralds never must be slain. +To him alone, a wretch untrue, +The punishment of death is due +Who leaves his master's speech unsaid +And speaks another in its stead." +Moved by the suppliant speech and prayer +Up sprang the prince and cried, forbear. +Saved from his wild assailant's blows +Again the Rákshas herald rose +And borne on light wings to the sky +Addressed Sugríva from on high: +"O Vánar Monarch, chief endued +With power and wonderous fortitude, +What answer is my king, the fear +And scourge of weeping worlds, to hear?" +"Go tell thy lord," Sugríva cried, +"Thou, Ráma's foe, art thus defied. +His arm the guilty Báli slew; +Thus, tyrant, shalt thou perish too. +Thy sons, thy friends, proud King, and all +Thy kith and kin with thee shall fall; +And, emptied of the giant's brood, +Burnt Lanká be a solitude. +Fly to the Sun-God's pathway, go +And hide thee deep in hell below: +In vain from Ráma shalt thou flee +Though heavenly warriors fight for thee. +Thine arm subdued, securely bold, +The Vulture-king infirm and old: +But will thy puny strength avail +When Raghu's wrathful sons assail? +A captive in thy palace lies +The lady of the lotus eyes: +Thou knowest not how fierce and strong +Is he whom thou hast dared to wrong. +The best of Raghu's lineage, he +Whose conquering hand shall punish thee." + + He ceased: and Angad raised a cry; +"This is no herald but a spy. +Above thee from his airy post +His rapid eye surveyed our host, +Where with advantage he might scan +Our gathered strength from rear to van. +Bind him, Vánars, bind the spy, +Nor let him back to Lanká fly." + + They hurled the Rákshas to the ground, +They grasped his neck, his pinions bound, +And firmly held him while in vain +His voice was lifted to complain. +But Ráma's heart inclined to spare, +He listened to his plaint and prayer, +And cried aloud: "O Vánars, cease; +The captive from his bonds release." + + + + +Canto XXI. Ocean Threatened. + + +His hands in reverence Ráma raised +And southward o'er the ocean gazed; +Then on the sacred grass that made +His lowly couch his limbs he laid. +His head on that strong arm reclined +Which Sítá, best of womankind, +Had loved in happier days to hold +With soft arms decked with pearls and gold. +Then rising from his bed of grass, +"This day," he cried, "the host shall pass +Triumphant to the southern shore, +Or Ocean's self shall be no more." +Thus vowing in his constant breast +Again he turned him to his rest, +And there, his eyes in slumber closed, +Silent beside the sea reposed. +Thrice rose the Day-God thrice he set, +The lord of Ocean came not yet, +Thrice came the night, but Raghu's son +No answer by his service won. +To Lakshman thus the hero cried, +His eyes aflame with wrath and pride: + + "In vain the softer gifts that grace +The good are offered to the base. +Long-suffering, patience, gentle speech +Their thankless hearts can never reach. +The world to him its honour pays +Whose ready tongue himself can praise, +Who scorns the true, and hates the right, +Whose hand is ever raised to smite. +Each milder art is tried in vain: +It wins no glory, but disdain. +And victory owns no softer charm +Than might which nerves a warrior's arm. +My humble suit is still denied +By Ocean's overweening pride. +This day the monsters of the deep +In throes of death shall wildly leap. +My shafts shall rend the serpents curled +In caverns of the watery world, +Disclose each sunless depth and bare +The tangled pearl and coral there. +Away with mercy! at a time +Like this compassion is a crime. +Welcome, the battle and the foe! +My bow! my arrows and my bow! +This day the Vánars' feet shall tread +The conquered Sea's exhausted bed, +And he who never feared before +Shall tremble to his farthest shore." + + Red flashed his eyes with angry glow: +He stood and grasped his mighty bow, +Terrific as the fire of doom +Whose quenchless flames the world consume. +His clanging cord the archer drew, +And swift the fiery arrows flew +Fierce as the flashing levin sent +By him who rules the firmament. +Down through the startled waters sped +Each missile with its flaming head. +The foamy billows rose and sank, +And dashed upon the trembling bank. +Sea monsters of tremendous form +With crash and roar of thunder storm. +Still the wild waters rose and fell +Crowned with white foam and pearl and shell. +Each serpent, startled from his rest, +Raised his fierce eyes and glowing crest. +And prisoned Dánavs(933) where they dwelt +In depths below the terror felt. +Again upon his string he laid +A flaming shaft, but Lakshman stayed +His arm, with gentle reasoning tried +To soothe his angry mood, and cried: +"Brother, reflect: the wise control +The rising passions of the soul. +Let Ocean grant, without thy threat, +The boon on which thy heart is set. +That gracious lord will ne'er refuse +When Ráma son of Raghu sues." +He ceased: and voices from the air +Fell clear and loud, Spare, Ráma, spare. + + + + +Canto XXII. Ocean Threatened. + + +With angry menace Ráma, best +Of Raghu's sons, the Sea addressed: +"With fiery flood of arrowy rain +Thy channels will I dry and drain. +And I and all the Vánar host +Will reach on foot the farther coast. +Thou shalt not from destruction save +The creatures of the teeming wave, +And lapse of time shall ne'er efface +The memory of the dire disgrace." + + Thus spoke the warrior, and prepared +The mortal shaft which never spared, +Known mystic weapon, by the name +Of Brahmá, red with quenchless flame. +Great terror, as he strained the bow, +Struck heaven above and earth below. +Through echoing skies the thunder pealed, +And startled mountains rocked and reeled, +The earth was black with sudden night +And heaven was blotted from the sight. +Then ever and anon the glare +Of meteors shot through murky air, +And with a wild terrific sound +Red lightnings struck the trembling ground. +In furious gusts the fierce wind blew: +Tall trees it shattered and o'erthrew, +And, smiting with a giant's stroke, +Huge masses from the mountain broke. +A cry of terror long and shrill +Came from each valley, plain, and hill. +Each ruined dale, each riven peak +Re-echoed with a wail or shriek. + + While Raghu's son undaunted gazed, +The waters of the deep were raised, +And, still uplifted more and more, +Leapt in wild flood upon the shore. +Still Ráma looked upon the tide +And kept his post unterrified. +Then from the seething flood upreared +Majestic Ocean's form appeared, +As rising from his eastern height +Springs through the sky the Lord of Light. +Attendant on their monarch came +Sea serpents with their eyes aflame. +Like lazulite mid burning gold +His form was wondrous to behold. +Bright with each fairest precious stone +A chain about his neck was thrown. +Calm shone his lotus eyes beneath +The blossoms of his heavenly wreath, +And many a pearl and sea-born gem +Flashed in the monarch's diadem. +There Gangá, tributary queen, +And Sindhu(934) by his lord, were seen, +And every stream and brook renowned +In ancient story girt him round. +Then, as the waters rose and swelled, +The king with suppliant hands upheld, +His glorious head to Ráma bent +And thus addressed him reverent: +"Air, ether, fire, earth, water, true +To nature's will, their course pursue; +And I, as ancient laws ordain, +Unfordable must still remain. +Yet, Raghu's son, my counsel hear: +I ne'er for love or hope or fear +Will pile my waters in a heap +And leave a pathway through the deep. +Still shall my care for thee provide +An easy passage o'er the tide, +And like a city's paven street +Shall be the road beneath thy feet." +He ceased: and Ráma spoke again: +"This spell is ne'er invoked in vain. +Where shall the magic shaft, to spend +The fury of its might, descend?" +"Shoot," Ocean cried, "thine arrow forth +With all its fury to the north, +Where sacred Drumakulya lies, +Whose glory with thy glory vies. +There dwells a wild Abhíra(935) race, +As vile in act as foul of face, +Fierce Dasyus(936) who delight in ill, +And drink my tributary rill. +My soul no longer may endure +Their neighbourhood and touch impure. +At these, O son of Raghu, aim +Thine arrow with the quenchless flame." + + Swift from the bow, as Ráma drew +His cord, the fiery arrow flew. +Earth groaned to feel the wound, and sent +A rush of water through the rent; +And famed for ever is the well +Of Vrana(937) where the arrow fell. +Then every brook and lake beside +Throughout the region Ráma dried. +But yet he gave a boon to bless +And fertilize the wilderness: +No fell disease should taint the air, +And sheep and kine should prosper there: +Earth should produce each pleasant root, +The stately trees should bend with fruit; +Oil, milk, and honey should abound, +And fragrant herbs should clothe the ground. +Then spake the king of brooks and seas +To Raghu's son in words like these: +"Now let a wondrous task be done +By Nala, Visvakarmá's son, +Who, born of one of Vánar race, +Inherits by his father's grace +A share of his celestial art. +Call Nala to perform his part, +And he, divinely taught and skilled, +A bridge athwart the sea shall build." + + He spoke and vanished. Nala, best +Of Vánar chiefs, the king addressed: +"O'er the deep sea where monsters play +A bridge, O Ráma, will I lay; +For, sharer of my father's skill, +Mine is the power and mine the will. +'Tis vain to try each gentler art +To bribe and soothe the thankless heart; +In vain on such is mercy spent; +It yields to naught but punishment. +Through fear alone will Ocean now +A passage o'er his waves allow. +My mother, ere she bore her son, +This boon from Visvakarmá won: +"O Mandarí, thy child shall be +In skill and glory next to me." +But why unbidden should I fill +Thine ear with praises of my skill? +Command the Vánar hosts to lay +Foundations for the bridge to-day." + + He spoke: and swift at Ráma's hest +Up sprang the Vánars from their rest, +The mandate of the king obeyed +And sought the forest's mighty shade. +Unrooted trees to earth they threw, +And to the sea the timber drew. +The stately palm was bowed and bent, +Asokas from the ground were rent, +And towering Sáls and light bamboos, +And trees with flowers of varied hues, +With loveliest creepers wreathed and crowned, +Shook, reeled, and fell upon the ground. +With mighty engines piles of stone +And seated hills were overthrown: +Unprisoned waters sprang on high, +In rain descending from the sky: +And ocean with a roar and swell +Heaved wildly when the mountains fell. +Then the great bridge of wondrous strength +Was built, a hundred leagues in length. +Rocks huge as autumn clouds bound fast +With cordage from the shore were cast, +And fragments of each riven hill, +And trees whose flowers adorned them still. +Wild was the tumult, loud the din +As ponderous rocks went thundering in. +Ere set of sun, so toiled each crew, +Ten leagues and four the structure grew; +The labours of the second day +Gave twenty more of ready way, +And on the fifth, when sank the sun, +The whole stupendous work was done. +O'er the broad way the Vánars sped, +Nor swayed it with their countless tread. +Exultant on the ocean strand +Vibhishan stood, and, mace in hand, +Longed eager for the onward way, +And chafed impatient at delay. +Then thus to Ráma trained and tried +In battle King Sugríva cried: +"Come, Hanumán's broad back ascend; +Let Angad help to Lakshman lend. +These high above the sea shall bear +Their burthen through the ways of air." + + So, with Sugríva, borne o'erhead +Ikshváku's sons the legions led. +Behind, the Vánar hosts pursued +Their march in endless multitude. +Some skimmed the surface of the wave, +To some the air a passage gave. +Amid their ceaseless roar the sound +Of Ocean's fearful voice was drowned, +As o'er the bridge by Nala planned +They hastened on to Lanká's strand, +Where, by the pleasant brooks, mid trees +Loaded with fruit, they took their ease. + + + + +Canto XXIII. The Omens. + + +Then Ráma, peerless in the skill +That marks each sign of good and ill, +Strained his dear brother to his breast, +And thus with prudent words addressed: +"Now, Lakshman, by the water's side +In fruitful groves the host divide, +That warriors of each woodland race +May keep their own appointed place. +Dire is the danger: loss of friends, +Of Vánars and of bears, impends. +Distained with dust the breezes blow, +And earth is shaken from below. +The tall hills rock from foot to crown, +And stately trees come toppling down. +In threatening shape, with voice of fear, +The clouds like cannibals appear, +And rain in fitful torrents, red +With sanguinary drops, is shed. +Long streaks of lurid light invest +The evening skies from east to west. +And from the sun at times a ball +Of angry fire is seen to fall. +From every glen and brake is heard +The boding voice of beast and bird: +From den and lair night-prowlers run +And shriek against the falling sun. +Up springs the moon, but hot and red +Kills the sad night with woe and dread; +No gentle lustre, but the gloom +That heralds universal doom. +A cloud of dust and vapour mars +The beauty of the evening stars, +And wild and fearful is the sky +As though the wreck of worlds were nigh. +Around our heads in boding flight +Wheel hawk and vulture, crow and kite; +And every bird of happy note +Shrieks terror from his altered throat. +Sword, spear and shaft shall strew the plain +Dyed red with torrents of the slain. +To-day the Vánar troops shall close +Around the city of our foes." + + + + +Canto XXIV. The Spy's Return. + + +As shine the heavens with autumn's moon +Refulgent in the height of noon, +So shone with light which Ráma gave +That army of the bold and brave, +As from the sea it marched away +In war's magnificent array, +And earth was shaken by the beat +And trampling of unnumbered feet. +Then to the giants' ears were borne, +The mingled notes of drum and horn, +And clash of tambours smote the sky, +And shouting and the battle cry. +The sound of martial strains inspired +Each chieftain, and his bosom fired: +While giants from their walls replied, +And answering shouts the foe defied, +Then Ráma looked on Lanká where +Bright banners floated in the air, +And, pierced with anguish at the view, +His loving thoughts to Sítá flew. +"There, prisoned by the giant, lies +My lady of the tender eyes, +Like Rohiní the queen of stars +O'erpowered by the fiery Mars." +Then turned he to his brother chief +And cried in agony of grief: +"See on the hill, divinely planned +And built by Visvakarmá's hand, +The towers and domes of Lanká rise +In peerless beauty to the skies. +Bright from afar the city shines +With gleam of palaces and shrines, +Like pale clouds through the region spread +By Vishnu's self inhabited. +Fair gardens grow, and woods between +The stately domes are fresh and green, +Where trees their bloom and fruit display, +And sweet birds sing on every spray. +Each bird is mad with joy, and bees +Sing labouring in the bloomy trees +On branches by the breezes bowed, +Where the gay Koïl's voice is loud." + + This said, he ranged with warlike art +Each body of the host apart. +"There in the centre," Ráma cried, +"Be Angad's place by Níla's side. +Let Rishabh of impetuous might +Be lord and leader on the right, +And Gandhamádan, next in rank, +Be captain of the farther flank. +Lakshman and I the hosts will lead, +And Jámbaván of ursine breed, +With bold Sushen unused to fear, +And Vegadarsí, guide the rear." + + Thus Ráma spoke: the chiefs obeyed; +And all the Vánar hosts arrayed +Showed awful as the autumn sky +When clouds embattled form on high. +Their arms were mighty trees o'erthrown, +And massy blocks of mountain stone. +One hope in every warlike breast, +One firm resolve, they onward pressed, +To die in fight or batter down +The walls and towers of Lanká's town. + + Those marshalled legions Ráma eyed, +And thus to King Sugríva cried: +"Now, Monarch, ere the hosts proceed, +Let Suka, Rávan's spy, be freed." +He spoke: the Vánar gave consent +And loosed him from imprisonment: +And Suka, trembling and afraid, +His homeward way to Rávan made. +Loud laughed the lord of Lanká's isle: +"Where hast thou stayed this weary while? +Why is thy plumage marred, and why +Do twisted cords thy pinions tie? +Say, comest thou in evil plight +The victim of the Vánars' spite?" + + He ceased: the spy his fear controlled, +And to the king his story told: +"I reached the ocean's distant shore, +Thy message to the king I bore. +In sudden wrath the Vánars rose, +They struck me down with furious blows; +They seized me helpless on the ground, +My plumage rent, my pinions bound. +They would not, headlong in their ire, +Consider, listen, or inquire; +So fickle, wrathful, rough and rude +Is the wild forest multitude. +There, marshalling the Vánar bands, +King Ráma with Sugríva stands, +Ráma the matchless warrior, who +Virádha and Kabandha slew, +Khara, and countless giants more, +And tracks his queen to Lanká's shore. +A bridge athwart the sea was cast, +And o'er it have his legions passed. +Hark! heralded by horns and drums +The terrible avenger comes. +E'en now the giants' isle he fills +With warriors huge as clouds and hills, +And burning with vindictive hate +Will thunder soon at Lanká's gate. +Yield or oppose him: choose between +Thy safety and the Maithil queen." + + He ceased: the tyrant's eyeballs blazed +With fury as his voice he raised: +"No, if the dwellers of the sky, +Gandharvas, fiends assail me, I +Will keep the Maithil lady still, +Nor yield her back for fear of ill. +When shall my shafts with iron hail +My foeman, Raghu's son, assail, +Thick as the bees with eager wing +Beat on the flowery trees of spring? +O, let me meet my foe at length, +And strip him of his vaunted strength, +Fierce as the sun who shines afar +Stealing the light of every star. +Strong as the sea's impetuous might +My ways are like the tempest's flight; +But Ráma knows not this, or he +In terror from my face would flee." + + + + +Canto XXV. Rávan's Spies.(938) + + +When Ráma and the host he led +Across the sea had safely sped, +Thus Rávan, moved by wrath and pride, +To Suka and to Sáran cried: +"O counsellors, the Vánar host +Has passed the sea from coast to coast, +And Dasaratha's son has wrought +A wondrous deed surpassing thought. +And now in truth I needs must know +The strength and number of the foe. +Go ye, to Ráma's host repair +And count me all the legions there. +Learn well what power each captain leads +His name and fame for warlike deeds. +Learn by what artist's wondrous aid +That bridge athwart the sea was made; +Learn how the Vánar host came o'er +And halted on the island shore. +Mark Ráma son of Raghu well; +His valour, strength, and weapons tell. +Watch his advisers one by one, +And Lakshman, Raghu's younger son. +Learn with observant eyes, and bring +"Unerring tidings to your king. + + He ceased: then swift in Vánar guise +Forth on their errand sped the spies. +They reached the Vánars, and, dismayed, +Their never-ending lines surveyd: +Nor would they try, in mere despair, +To count the countless legions there, +That crowded valley, plain and hill, +That pressed about each cave and rill. +Though sea-like o'er the land were spread +The endless hosts which Ráma led, +The bridge by thousands yet was lined, +And eager myriads pressed behind. +But sage Vibhishan's watchful eyes +Had marked the giants in disguise. +He gave command the pair to seize, +And told the tale in words like these: + + "O Ráma these, well known erewhile, +Are giant sons of Lanká's isle, +Two counsellors of Rávan sent +To watch the invading armament." + + Vibhishan ceased: at Ráma's look +The Rákshas envoys quailed and shook; +Then suppliant hand to hand they pressed +And thus Ikshváku's son addressed: +"O Ráma, bear the truth we speak: +Our monarch Rávan bade us seek +The Vánar legions and survey +Their numbers, strength, and vast array." + + Then Ráma, friend and hope and guide +Of suffering creatures, thus replied: + + "Now giants, if your eyes have scanned +Our armies, numbering every band, +Marked lord and chief, and gazed their fill, +Return to Rávan when ye will. +If aught remain, if aught anew +Ye fain would scan with closer view, +Vibhishan, ready at your call, +Will lead you forth and show you all. +Think not of bonds and capture; fear +No loss of life, no peril here: +For, captive, helpless and unarmed, +An envoy never should be harmed. +Again to Lanká's town repair, +Speed to the giant monarch there, +And be these words to Rávan told, +Fierce brother of the Lord of Gold: +"Now, tyrant, tremble for thy sin: +Call up thy friends, thy kith and kin, +And let the power and might be seen +Which made thee bold to steal my queen. +To-morrow shall thy mournful eye +Behold thy bravest warriors die, +And Lanká's city, tower and wall, +Struck by my fiery shafts, will fall. +Then shall my vengeful blow descend +Its rage on thee and thine to spend, +Fierce as the fiery bolt that flew +From heaven against the Dánav crew, +Mid those rebellious demons sent +By him who rules the firmament." + + Thus spake Ikshváku's son, and ceased: +The giants from their bonds released +Lauded the King with glad accord, +And hasted homeward to their lord. +Before the tyrant side by side +Suka and Sáran stood and cried: +"Vibhishan seized us, King, and fain +His helpless captives would have slain. +But glorious Ráma saw us; he, +Great-hearted hero, made us free. +There in one spot our eyes beheld +Four chiefs on earth unparalleled, +Who with the guardian Gods may vie +Who rule the regions of the sky. +There Ráma stood, the boast and pride +Of Raghu's race, by Lakshman's side. +There stood the sage Vibhishan, there +Sugríva strong beyond compare. +These four alone can batter down +Gate, rampart, wall, and Lanká's town. +Nay, Ráma matchless in his form, +A single foe, thy town would storm: +So wondrous are his weapons, he +Needs not the succour of the three. +Why speak we of the countless train +That fills the valley, hill and plain, +The millions of the Vánar breed +Whom Ráma and Sugríva lead? +O King, be wise, contend no more, +And Sítá to her lord restore." + + + + +Canto XXVI. The Vánar Chiefs. + + +"Not if the Gods in heaven who dwell, +Gandharvas, and the fiends of hell +In banded opposition rise +Against me, will I yield my prize. +Still trembling from the ungentle touch +Of Vánar hands ye fear too much, +And bid me, heedless of the shame, +Give to her lord the Maithil dame." + + Thus spoke the king in stern reproof; +Then mounted to his palace roof +Aloft o'er many a story raised, +And on the lands beneath him gazed. +There by his faithful spies he stood +And looked on sea and hill and wood. +There stretched before him far away +The Vánars' numberless array: +Scarce could the meadows' tender green +Beneath their trampling feet be seen. +He looked a while with furious eye, +Then questioned thus the nearer spy: +"Bend, Sáran, bend thy gaze, and show +The leaders of the Vánar foe. +Tell me their heroes' names, and teach +The valour, power and might of each." + + Obedient Sáran eyed the van, +The leaders marked, and thus began: +"That chief conspicuous at the head +Of warriors in the forest bred, +Who hither bends his ruthless eye +And shouts his fearful battle cry: +Whose voice with pealing thunder shakes +All Lanká, with the groves and lakes +And hills that tremble at the sound, +Is Níla, for his might renowned: +First of the Vánar lords controlled +By King Sugríva lofty-souled. +He who his mighty arm extends, +And his fierce eye on Lanká bends, +In stature like a stately tower, +In colour like a lotus flower, +Who with his wild earth-shaking cries +Thee, Rávan, to the field defies, +Is Angad, by Sugríva's care +Anointed his imperial heir: +In wondrous strength, in martial fire +Peer of King Báli's self, his sire; +For Ráma's sake in arms arrayed +Like Varun called to Sakra's aid. +Behind him, girt by warlike bands, +Nala the mighty Vánar stands, +The son of Visvakarmá, he +Who built the bridge athwart the sea. +Look farther yet, O King, and mark +That chieftain clothed in Sandal bark. +'Tis Sweta, famed among his peers, +A sage whom all his race reveres. +See, in Sugríva's ear he speaks, +Then, hasting back, his post reseeks, +And turns his practised eye to view +The squadrons he has formed anew. +Next Kumud stands who roamed of yore +On Gomatí's(939) delightful shore, +Feared where the waving woods invest +His seat on Mount Sanrochan's crest. +Next him a chieftain strong and dread, +Comes Chanda at his legions' head; +Exulting in his warrior might +He hastens, burning for the fight, +And boasts that his unaided powers +Shall cast to earth thy walls and towers. +Mark, mark that chief of lion gait, +Who views thee with a glance of hate +As though his very eyes would burn +The city walls to which they turn: +'Tis Rambha, Vánar king; he dwells +In Krishnagiri's tangled dells, +Where Vindhya's pleasant slopes are spread +And fair Sudarsan lifts his head. +There, listening with erected ears, +Sarabha, mighty chief, appears. +His soul is burning for the strife, +Nor dreads the jeopardy of life. +He trembles as he moves, for ire, +And bends around his glance of fire. +Next, like a cloud that veils the skies, +A chieftain of terrific size, +Conspicuous mid the Vánars, comes +With battle shout like rolling drums, +'Tis Panas, trained in war and tried, +Who dwells on Páriyátra's side. +He, far away, the chief who throws +A glory o'er the marshalled rows +That ranged behind their captain stand +Exulting on the ocean strand, +Is Vinata the fierce in fight, +Preëminent like Dardur's height. +That chieftain bending down to drink +On lovely Vená's verdant brink, +Is Krathan; now he lifts his eyes +And thee to mortal fray defies. +Next Gavaya comes, whose haughty mind +Scorns all the warriors of his kind. +He comes to trample--such his boast-- +On Lanká with his single host." + + + + +Canto XXVII. The Vánar Chiefs. + + +"Yet more remain, brave chiefs who stake +Their noble lives for Ráma's sake. +See, glorious, golden-coated, one +Who glisters like the morning sun, +Whom thousands of his race surround, +'Tis Hara for his strength renowned. +Next comes a mighty chieftain, he +Whose legions, armed with rock and tree, +Press on, in numbers passing tale, +The ramparts of our town to scale. +O Rávan, see the king advance +Terrific with his fiery glance, +Girt by the bravest of his train, +Majestic as the God of Rain, +Parjanya, when his host of clouds +About the king, embattled, crowds: +On Rikshaván's high mountain nursed, +In Narmadá(940) he slakes his thirst, +Dhúmra, proud ursine chief, who leads +Wild warriors whom the forest breeds. +His brother, next in strength and age, +In Jámbaván the famous sage. +Of yore his might and skill he lent +To him who rules the firmament, +And Indra's liberal boons repaid +The chieftain for the timely aid. +There like a gloomy cloud that flies +Borne by the tempest through the skies, +Pramáthí stands: he roamed of yore +The forest wilds on Gangá's shore, +Where elephants were struck with dread +And trembling at his coming fled. +There on his foes he loved to sate +The old hereditary hate.(941) +Look, Gaja and Gaváksha show +Their lust of battle with the foe. +See Nala burning for the fray, +And Níla chafing at delay. +Behind the eager captains press +Wild hosts in numbers numberless, +And each for Ráma's sake would fall +Or force his way through Lanká's wall." + + + + +Canto XXVIII. The Chieftains. + + +There Sáran ceased: then Suka broke +The silence and to Rávan spoke: +"O Monarch, yonder chiefs survey: +Like elephants in size are they, +And tower like stately trees that grow +Where Gangá's nursing waters flow; +Yea, tall as mountain pines that fling +Long shadows o'er the snow-crowned king. +They all in wild Kishkindhá dwell +And serve their lord Sugríva well. +The Gods' and bright Gandharvas' seed, +They take each form that suits their need. +Now farther look, O Monarch, where +Those chieftains stand, a glorious pair, +Conspicuous for their godlike frames; +Dwivid and Mainda are their names. +Their lips the drink of heaven have known, +And Brahmá claims them for his own. +That chieftain whom thine eyes behold +Refulgent like a hill of gold, +Before whose wrathful might the sea +Roused from his rest would turn and flee, +The peerless Vánar, he who came +To Lanká for the Maithil dame, +The Wind-God's son Hanumán; thou +Hast seen him once, behold him now. +Still nearer let thy glance be bent, +And mark that prince preëminent +Mid chieftains for his strength and size +And splendour of his lotus eyes. +Far through the worlds his virtues shine, +The glory of Ikshváku's line. +The path of truth he never leaves, +And still through all to duty cleaves. +Deep in the Vedas, skilled to wield +The mystic shafts to him revealed: +Whose flaming darts to heaven ascend, +And through the earth a passage rend: +In might like him who rules the sky; +Like Yáma, when his wrath grows high: +Whose queen, the darling of his soul, +Thy magic art deceived and stole: +There royal Ráma stands and longs +For battle to avenge his wrongs. +Near on his right a prince, in hue +Like pure gold freshly burnished, view: +Broad is his chest, his eye is red, +His black hair curls about his head: +'Tis Lakshman, faithful friend, who shares +His brother's joys, his brother's cares. +By Ráma's side he loves to stand +And serve him as his better hand, +For whose dear sake without a sigh +The warrior youth would gladly die. +On Ráma's left Vibhishan view, +With giants for his retinue: +King-making drops have dewed his head, +Appointed monarch in thy stead. +Behold that chieftain sternly still, +High towering like a rooted hill, +Supreme in power and pride of place, +The monarch of the Vánar race. +Raised high above his woodland kind, +In might and glory, frame and mind, +His head above his host he shows +Conspicuous as the Lord of Snows. +His home is far from hostile eyes +Where deep in woods Kishkindhá lies. +A glistering chain which flowers bedeck +With burnished gold adorns his neck. +Queen Fortune, loved by Gods and kings, +To him her chosen favourite clings. +That chain he owes to Ráma's grace, +And Tárá and his kingly place. +In him the great Sugríva know, +Whom Ráma rescued from his foe."(942) + + + + +Canto XXIX. Sárdúla Captured. + + +The giant viewed with earnest ken +The Vánars and the lords of men; +Then thus, with grief and anger moved, +In bitter tone the spies reproved: +"Can faithful servants hope to please +Their master with such fates as these? +Or hope ye with wild words to wring +The bosom of your lord and king? +Such words were better said by those +Who come arrayed our mortal foes. +In vain your ears have heard the sage, +And listened to the lore of age, +Untaught, though lectured many a day, +The first great lesson, to obey, +'Tis marvel Rávan reigns and rules +Whose counsellors are blind and fools. +Has death no terrors that ye dare +To tempt your monarch to despair, +From whose imperial mandate flow +Disgrace and honour, weal and woe? +Yea, forest trees, when flames are fanned +About their scorching trunks, may stand; +But naught can set the sinner free +When kings the punishment decree. +I would not in mine anger spare +The traitorous foe-praising pair, +But years of faithful service plead +For pardon, and they shall not bleed. +Henceforth to me be dead: depart, +Far from my presence and my heart." + + Thus spoke the angry king: the two +Cried, Long live Rávan, and withdrew, +The giant monarch turned and cried +To strong Mahodar at his side: +"Go thou, and spies more faithful bring. +More duteous to their lord the king." + + Swift at his word Mahodar shed, +And came returning at the head +Of long tried messengers, who bent +Before their monarch reverent. +"Go quickly hence," said Rávan "scan +With keenest eyes the foeman's plan. +Learn who, as nearest friends, advise +And mould each secret enterprise. +Learn when he wakes and goes to rest, +Sound every purpose of his breast. +Learn what the prince intends to-day: +Watch keenly all, and come away." + + With joy they heard the words he said: +Then with Sárdúla at their head +About the giant king they went +With circling paces reverent. +By fair Suvela's grassy side +The chiefs of Raghu's race they spied, +Where, shaded by the waving wood, +Vibhishan and Sugríva stood. +A while they rested there and viewed +The Vánars' countless multitude. +Vibhishan with observant eyes +Knew at a glance the giant spies, +And bade the warriors of his train +Bind the rash foes with cord and chain: +"Sárdúla's is the sin," he cried. +He neath the Vánars' hands had died, +But Ráma from their fury freed +The captive in his utmost need, +And, merciful at sight of woe, +Loosed all the spies and bade them go. +Then home to Lanká's monarch fled +The giant chiefs discomfited. + + + + +Canto XXX. Sárdúla's Speech. + + +They told their lord that Ráma still +Lay waiting by Suvela's hill. +The tyrant, flushed with angry glow, +Heard of the coming of the foe, +And thus with close inquiry pressed +Sárdúla spokesman for the rest: +"Why art thou sad, night-rover? speak: +Has grief or terror changed thy cheek? +Have the wild Vánars' hostile bands +Assailed thee with their mighty hands?" + + Sárdúla heard, but scarce might speak; +His trembling tones were faint and weak: +"O Giant King, in vain we try +The purpose of the foe to spy. +Their strength and number none may tell, +And Ráma guards his legions well. +He leaves no hope to prying eyes, +And parley with the chiefs denies: +Each road and path a Vánar guard, +Of mountain size, has closed and barred. +Soon as my feet an entrance found +By giants was I seized and bound, +And wounded sore I fell beneath +Their fists and knees and hands and teeth. +Then trembling, bleeding, wellnigh dead +To Ráma's presence was I led. +He in his mercy stooped to save, +And freedom to the captive gave. +With rocks and shattered mountains he +Has bridged his way athwart the sea, +And he and all his legions wait +Embattled close to Lanká's gate. +Soon will the host thy wall assail, +And, swarming on, the rampart scale. +Now, O my King, his consort yield, +Or arm thee with the sword and shield. +This choice is left thee: choose between +Thy safety and the Maithil queen."(943) + + + + +Canto XXXI. The Magic Head. + + +The tyrant's troubled eye confessed +The secret fear that filled his breast. +With dread of coming woe dismayed +He called his counsellors to aid; +Then sternly silent, deep in thought, +His chamber in the palace sought. +Then, as the surest hope of all, +The monarch bade his servants call +Vidyujjihva, whom magic skill +Made master of the means of ill. +Then spake the lord of Lanká's isle: +"Come, Sítá with thine arts beguile. +With magic skill and deftest care +A head like Ráma's own prepare. +This head, long shafts and mighty bow, +To Janak's daughter will we show." + + He ceased: Vidyujjihva obeyed, +And wondrous magic skill displayed; +And Rávan for the art he showed +An ornament of price bestowed. +Then to the grove where Sítá lay +The lord of Lanká took his way. +Pale, wasted, weeping, on the ground +The melancholy queen he found, +Whose thoughts in utmost stress of ill +Were fixed upon her husband still. +The giant king approached the dame, +Declared in tones of joy his name; +Then heeding naught her wild distress +Bespake her, stern and pitiless: +"The prince to whom thy fancies cling +Though loved and wooed by Lanká's king, +Who slew the noble Khara,--he +Is slain by warriors sent by me. +Thy living root is hewn away, +Thy scornful pride is tamed to-day. +Thy lord in battle's front has died, +And Sítá shall be Rávan's bride. +Hence, idle thoughts: thy hope is fled; +What wilt thou, Sítá, with the dead? +Rise, child of Janak, rise and be +The queen of all my queens and me. +Incline thine ear, and I will tell, +Dear lady, how thy husband fell. +He bridged his way across the sea +With countless troops to fight with me. +The setting sun had flushed the west +When on the shore they took their rest. +Weary with toil no watch they kept, +Securely on the sands they slept. +Prahasta's troops assailed our foes, +And smote them in their deep repose. +Scarce could their bravest prove their might: +They perished in the dark of night. +Axe, spear, and sword, directed well, +Upon the sleeping myriads fell. +First in the fight Prahasta's sword +Reft of his head thy slumbering lord. +Roused at the din Vibhishan rose, +The captive of surrounding foes, +And Lakshman through the woods that spread +Around him with his Vánars fled. +Hanúmán fell: one deadly stroke +The neck of King Sugríva broke, +And Mainda sank, and Dwivid lay +Gasping in blood his life away. +The Vánars died, or fled dispersed +Like cloudlets when the storm has burst. +Some rose aloft in air, and more +Ran to the sea and filled the shore. +On shore, in woods, on hill and plain +Our conquering giants left the slain. +Thus my victorious host o'erthrew +The Vánars, and thy husband slew: +See, rudely stained with dust, and red +With dropping blood, the severed head." + + Then, turning to a Rákshas slave, +The ruthless king his mandate gave, +And straight Vidyujjihva who bore +The head still wet with dripping gore, +The arrows and the mighty bow, +Bent down before his master low. +"Vidyujjihva," cried Rávan, "place +The head before the lady's face, +And let her see with weeping eyes +That low in death her husband lies." + + Before the queen the giant laid +The beauteous head his art had made. +And Rávan cried: "Thine eyes will know +These arrows and the mighty bow. +With fame of this by Ráma strung +The earth and heaven and hell have rung. +Prahasta brought it hither when +His hand had slain thy prince of men. +Now, widowed Queen, thy hopes resign: +Forget thy husband and be mine." + + + + +Canto XXXII. Sítá's Lament. + + +Again her eyes with tears o'erflowed: +She gazed upon the head he showed, +Gazed on the bow so famed of yore, +The glorious bow which Ráma bore. +She gazed upon his cheek and brows, +The eyes of her beloved spouse; +His lips, the lustre of his hair, +The priceless gem that glittered there. +The features of her lord she knew, +And, pierced with anguish at the view, +She lifted up her voice and cried: +"Kaikeyí, art thou satisfied? +Now all thy longings are fulfilled; +The joy of Raghu's race is killed, +And ruined is the ancient line, +Destroyer, by that fraud of thine. +Ah, what offence, O cruel dame, +What fault in Ráma couldst thou blame, +To drive him clad in hermit dress +With Sítá to the wilderness?" + + Great trembling seized her frame, and she +Fell like a stricken plantain tree. +As lie the dead she lay; at length +Slowly regaining sense and strength, +On the dear head she fixed her eye +And cried with very bitter cry: +"Ah, when thy cold dead cheek I view, +My hero, I am murdered too. +Then first a faithful woman's eyes +See sorrow, when her husband dies. +When thou, my lord, wast nigh to save, +Some stealthy hand thy death wound gave. +Thou art not dead: rise, hero, rise; +Long life was thine, as spake the wise +Whose words, I ween, are ever true, +For faith lies open to their view. +Ah lord, and shall thy head recline +On earth's cold breast, forsaking mine, +Counting her chill lap dearer far +Than I and my caresses are? +Ah, is it thus these eyes behold +Thy famous bow adorned with gold, +Whereon of yore I loved to bind +Sweet garlands that my hands had twined? +And hast thou sought in heaven a place +Amid the founders of thy race, +Where in the home deserved so well +Thy sires and Dasaratha dwell? +Or dost thou shine a brighter star +In skies where blest immortals are, +Forsaking in thy lofty scorn +The race wherein thy sires were born? +Turn to my gaze, O turn thine eye: +Why are thy cold lips silent, why? +When first we met as youth and maid, +When in thy hand my hand was laid, +Thy promise was thy steps should be +Through life in duty's path with me. +Remember, faithful still, thy vow, +And take me with thee even now. +Is that broad bosom where I hung, +That neck to which I fondly clung, +Where flowery garlands breathed their scent +By hungry dogs and vultures rent? +Shall no funereal honours grace +The parted lord of Raghu's race, +Whose bounty liberal fees bestowed, +For whom the fires of worship glowed? +Kausalyá wild with grief will see +One sole survivor of the three +Who in their hermit garments went +To the dark woods in banishment. +Then at her cry shall Lakshman tell +How, slain by night, the Vánars fell; +How to thy side the giants crept, +And slew the hero as he slept. +Thy fate and mine the queen will know, +And broken-hearted die of woe. +For my unworthy sake, for mine, +Ráma, the glory of his line, +Who bridged his way across the main, +Is basely in a puddle slain; +And I, the graceless wife he wed, +Have brought this ruin on his head. +Me, too, on him, O Rávan, slay: +The wife beside her husband lay. +By his dear body let me rest, +Cheek close to cheek and breast to breast, +My happy eyes I then will close, +And follow whither Ráma goes." + + Thus cried the miserable dame; +When to the king a warder came, +Before the giant monarch bowed +And said that, followed by a crowd +Of counsellors and lords of state, +Prahasta stood before the gate, +And, sent by some engrossing care, +Craved audience of his master there. +The anxious tyrant left his seat +And hastened forth the chief to meet: +Then summoning his nobles all, +Took counsel in his regal hall. + + When Lanká's lord had left the queen, +The head and bow no more were seen. +The giant king his nobles eyed, +And, terrible as Yáma, cried: +"O faithful lords, the time is come: +Gather our hosts with beat of drum. +Nigh to the town our foeman draws: +Be prudent, nor reveal the cause." + + The nobles listened and obeyed: +Swift were the gathered troops arrayed, +And countless rovers of the night +Stood burning for the hour of fight. + + + + +Canto XXXIII. Saramá. + + +But Saramá, of gentler mood, +With pitying eyes the mourner viewed, +Stole to her side and softly told +Glad tidings that her heart consoled, +Revealing with sweet voice and smile +The secret of the giant's guile. +She, one of those who night and day +Watching in turns by Sítá lay, +Though Rákshas born felt pity's touch, +And loved the hapless lady much. + + "I heard," she said, "thy bitter cry, +Heard Rávan's speech and thy reply, +For, hiding in the thicket near, +No word or tone escaped mine ear. +When Rávan hastened forth I bent +My steps to follow as he went, +And learnt the secret cause that drove +The monarch from the Asoka grove. +Believe me, Queen, thou needst not weep +For Ráma slaughtered in his sleep. +Thy lion lord of men defies +By day attack, by night surprise. +Can even giants slay with ease +Vast hosts who fight with brandished trees, +For whom, with eye that never sleeps, +His constant watch thy Ráma keeps? +Lord of the mighty arm and chest, +Of earthly warriors first and best, +Whose fame through all the regions rings, +Proud scion of a hundred kings; +Who guards his life and loves to lend +His saving succour to a friend: +Whose bow no hand but his can strain,-- +Thy lord, thy Ráma is not slain. +Obedient to his master's will, +A great magician, trained in ill, +With deftest art surpassing thought +That marvellous illusion wrought. +Let rising hope thy grief dispel: +Look up and smile, for all is well, +And gentle Lakshmí, Fortune's Queen, +Regards thee with a favouring mien. +Thy Ráma with his Vánar train +Has thrown a bridge athwart the main, +Has led his countless legions o'er, +And ranged them on this southern shore. +These eyes have seen the hero stand +Girt by his hosts on Lanká's strand, +And breathless spies each moment bring +Fresh tidings to the giant king; +And every peer and lord of state +Is called to counsel and debate." + + She ceased: the sound, long loud and clear, +Of gathering armies smote her ear, +Where call of drum and shell rang out, +The tambour and the battle shout; +And, while the din the echoes woke, +Again to Janak's child she spoke: +"Hear, lady, hear the loud alarms +That call the Rákshas troops to arms, +From stable and from stall they lead +The elephant and neighing steed, +Brace harness on with deftest care, +And chariots for the fight prepare. +Swift o'er the trembling ground career +Mailed horsemen armed with axe and spear, +And here and there in road and street +The terrible battalions meet. +I hear the gathering near and far, +The snorting steed, the rattling car. +Bold chieftains, leaders of the brave, +Press densely on, like wave on wave, +And bright the evening sunbeams glance +On helm and shield, on sword and lance. +Hark, lady, to the ringing steel, +Hark to the rolling chariot wheel: +Hark to the mettled courser's neigh +And drums' loud thunder far away. +The Queen of Fortune holds thee dear, +For Lanká's troops are struck with fear, +And Ráma with the lotus eyes, +Like Indra monarch of the skies, +With conquering arm will slay his foe +And free his lady from her woe. +Soon will his breast support thy head, +And tears of joy thine eyes will shed. +Soon by his mighty arm embraced +The long-lost rapture wilt thou taste, +And Ráma, meet for highest bliss, +Will gain his guerdon in thy kiss." + + + + +Canto XXXIV. Saramá's Tidings. + + +Thus Saramá her story told: +And Sítá's spirit was consoled, +As when the first fresh rain is shed +The parching earth is comforted. +Then, filled with zeal for Sítá's sake, +Again in gentle tones she spake, +And, skilled in arts that soothe and please, +Addressed the queen in words like these: +"Thy husband, lady, will I seek, +Say the fond words thy lips would speak, +And then, unseen of any eye, +Back to thy side will swiftly fly. +My airy flights are speedier far +Than Garuda's and the tempest are." + + Then Sítá spake: her former woe +Still left her accents faint and low: +"I know thy steps, which naught can stay, +Can urge through heaven and hell their way. +Then if thy love and changeless will +Would serve the helpless captive still, +Go forth and learn each plot and guile +Planned by the lord of Lanká's isle. +With magic art like maddening wine +He cheats these weeping eyes of mine, +Torments me with his suit, nor spares +Reproof or flattery, threats or prayers. +These guards surround me night and day; +My heart is sad, my senses stray; +And helpless in my woe I fear +The tyrant Rávan even here." + + Then Saramá replied: "I go +To learn the purpose of thy foe, +Soon by thy side again to stand +And tell thee what the king has planned." +She sped, she heard with eager ears +The tyrant speak his hopes and fears, +Where, gathered at their master's call, +The nobles filled the council hall; +Then swiftly, to her promise true, +Back to the Asoka grove she flew. +The lady on the grassy ground, +Longing for her return, she found; +Who with a gentle smile, to greet +The envoy, led her to a seat. +Through her worn frame a shiver ran +As Saramá her tale began: +"There stood the royal mother: she +Besought her son to set thee free, +And to her counsel, tears and prayers, +The elder nobles added theirs: +"O be the Maithil queen restored +With honour to her angry lord, +Let Janasthán's unhappy fight +Be witness of the hero's might. +Hanúmán o'er the waters came +And looked upon the guarded dame. +Let Lanká's chiefs who fought and fell +The prowess of the leader tell." +In vain they sued, in vain she wept, +His purpose still unchanged he kept, +As clings the miser to his gold, +He would not loose thee from his hold. +No, never till in death he lies, +Will Lanká's lord release his prize. +Soon slain by Ráma's arrows all +The giants with their king will fall, +And Ráma to his home will lead +His black-eyed queen from bondage freed." + + An awful sound that moment rose +From Lanká's fast-approaching foes, +Where drum and shell in mingled peal +Made earth in terror rock and reel. +The hosts within the walls arrayed +Stood trembling, in their hearts dismayed; +Thought of the tempest soon to burst, +And Lanká's lord, their ruin, cursed. + + + + +Canto XXXV. Malyaván's Speech. + + +The fearful notes of drum and shell +Upon the ear of Rávan fell. +One moment quailed his haughty look, +One moment in his fear he shook, +But soon recalling wonted pride, +His counsellors he sternly eyed, +And with a voice that thundered through +The council hall began anew: +"Lords, I have heard--your tongues have told-- +How Raghu's son is fierce and bold. +To Lanká's shore has bridged his way +And hither leads his wild array. +I know your might, in battle tried, +Fighting and conquering by my side. +Why now, when such a foe is near, +Looks eye to eye in silent fear?" + + He ceased, his mother's sire well known +For wisdom in the council shown, +Malyaván, sage and faithful guide. +Thus to the monarch's speech replied: +"Long reigns the king in safe repose, +Unmoved by fear of vanquished foes, +Whose feet by saving knowledge led +In justice path delight to tread: +Who knows to sheath the sword or wield, +To order peace, to strike or yield: +Prefers, when foes are stronger, peace, +And bids a doubtful conflict cease. +Now, King, the choice before thee lies, +Make peace with Ráma, and be wise. +This day the captive queen restore +Who brings the foe to Lanká's shore. +The Sire by whom the worlds are swayed +Of yore the Gods and demons made. +With these Injustice sided; those +Fair Justice for her champions chose. +Still Justice dwells with Gods above; +Injustice, fiends and giants love. +Thou, through the worlds that fear thee, long +Hast scorned the right and loved the wrong, +And Justice, with thy foes allied, +Gives might resistless to their side. +Thou, guided by thy wicked will, +Hast found delight in deeds of ill, +And sages in their holy rest +Have trembled, by thy power oppressed. +But they, who check each vain desire, +Are clothed with might which burns like fire. +In them the power and glory live +Which zeal and saintly fervour give. +Their constant task, their sole delight +Is worship and each holy rite, +To chant aloud the Veda hymn, +Nor let the sacred fires grow dim. +Now through the air like thunder ring +The echoes of the chants they sing. +The vapours of their incense rise +And veil with cloudy pall the skies, +And Rákshas might grows weak and faint +Killed by the power of sage and saint. +By Brahmá's boon thy life was screened +From God, Gandharva, Yaksha, fiend; +But Vánars, men, and bears, arrayed +Against thee now, thy shores invade. +Red meteors, heralds of despair +Flash frequent through the lurid air, +Foretelling to my troubled mind +The ruin of the Rákshas kind. +With awful thundering overhead +Clouds black as night are densely spread, +And oozing from the gloomy pall +Great drops of blood on Lanká fall. +Dogs roam through house and shrine to steal +The sacred oil and curd and meal, +Cats pair with tigers, hounds with swine, +And asses' foals are born of kine. +In these and countless signs I trace +The ruin of the giant race. +'Tis Vishnu's self who comes to storm +Thy city, clothed in Ráma's form; +For, well I ween, no mortal hand +The ocean with a bridge has spanned. +O giant King, the dame release, +And sue to Raghu's son for peace" + + + + +Canto XXXVI. Rávan's Reply. + + +But Rávan's breast with fury swelled, +And thus he spake by Death impelled, +While, under brows in anger bent, +Fierce glances from his eyes were sent: +"The bitter words which thou, misled +By friendly thought, hast fondly said, +Which praise the foe and counsel fear, +Unheeded fall upon mine ear. +How canst thou deem a mighty foe +This Ráma who, in stress of woe, +Seeks, banished as his sire decreed, +Assistance from the Vánar breed? +Am I so feeble in thine eyes, +Though feared by dwellers of the skies,-- +Whose might in many a battle shown +The glorious race of giants own? +Shall I for fear of him restore +The lady whom I hither bore, +Exceeding fair like Beauty's Queen(944) +Without her well-loved lotus seen? +Around the chief let Lakshman stand, +Sugríva, and each Vánar band, +Soon, Malyaván, thine eyes will see +This boasted Ráma slain by me. +I in the brunt of war defy +The mightiest warriors of the sky; +And if I stoop to combat men, +Shall I be weak and tremble then? +This mangled trunk the foe may rend, +But Rávan ne'er can yield or bend, +And be it vice or virtue, I +This nature never will belie. +What marvel if he bridged the sea? +Why should this deed disquiet thee? +This, only this, I surely know, +Back with his life he shall not go." + + Thus in loud tones the king exclaimed, +And mute stood Malyaván ashamed, +His reverend head he humbly bent, +And slowly to his mansion went. +But Rávan stayed, and deep in care +Held counsel with his nobles there, +All entrance to secure and close, +And guard the city from their foes. +He bade the chief Prahasta wait, +Commander at the eastern gate, +To fierce Mahodar, strong and brave, +To keep the southern gate, he gave, +Where Mahápársva's might should aid +The chieftain with his hosts arrayed. +To guard the west--no chief more fit-- +He placed the warrior Indrajít, +His son, the giant's joy and boast, +Surrounded by a Rákshas host: +And mighty Sáran hastened forth +With Suka to protect the north.(945) +"I will myself," the monarch cried, +"Be present on the northern side." +These orders for the walls' defence +The tyrant gave, then parted thence, +And, by the hope of victory fired, +To chambers far within, retired. + + + + +Canto XXXVII. Preparations. + + +Lords of the legions of the wood, +The chieftains with Vibhishan stood, +And, strangers in the foeman's land, +Their hopes and fears in council scanned: + + "See, see where Lanká's towers ascend, +Which Rávan's power and might defend, +Which Gods, Gandharvas, fiends would fail +To conquer, if they durst assail. +How shall our legions pass within, +The city of the foe to win, +With massive walls and portals barred +Which Rávan keeps with surest guard?" +With anxious looks the walls they eyed: +And sage Vibhishan thus replied: +"These lords of mine(946) can answer: they +Within the walls have found their way, +The foeman's plan and order learned, +And hither to my side returned. +Now, Ráma, let my tongue declare +How Rávan's hosts are stationed there. +Prahasta heads, in warlike state, +His legions at the eastern gate. +To guard the southern portal stands +Mahodar, girt by Rákshas bands, +Where mighty Mahápársva, sent +By Rávan's hest, his aid has lent. +Guard of the gate that fronts the west +Is valiant Indrajít, the best +Of warriors, Rávan's joy and pride; +And by the youthful chieftain's side +Are giants, armed for fierce attacks +With sword and mace and battle-axe. +North, where approach is dreaded most, +The king, encompassed with a host +Of giants trained in war, whose hands +Wield maces, swords and lances, stands. +All these are chiefs whom Rávan chose +As mightiest to resist his foes; +And each a countless army(947) leads +With elephants and cars and steeds." + + Then Ráma, while his spirit burned +For battle, words like these returned: +"The eastern gate be Níla's care, +Opponent of Prahasta there. +The southern gate, with troops arrayed +Let Angad, Báli's son, invade. +The gate that fronts the falling sun +Shall be by brave Hanúmán won; +Soon through its portals shall he lead +His myriads of Vánar breed. +The gate that fronts the north shall be +Assailed by Lakshman and by me, +For I myself have sworn to kill +The tyrant who delights in ill. +Armed with the boon which Brahmá gave, +The Gods of heaven he loves to brave, +And through the trembling worlds he flies, +Oppressor of the just and wise. +Thou, Jámbaván, and thou, O King +Of Vánars, all your bravest bring, +And with your hosts in dense array +Straight to the centre force your way. +But let no Vánar in the storm +Disguise him in a human form, +Ye chiefs who change your shapes at will, +Retain your Vánar semblance still. +Thus, when we battle with the foe, +Both men and Vánars will ye know, +In human form will seven appear; +Myself, my brother Lakshman here; +Vibhishan, and the four he led +From Lanká's city when he fled." + + Thus Raghu's son the chiefs addressed: +Then, gazing on Suvela's crest, +Transported by the lovely sight, +He longed to climb the mountain height. + + + + +Canto XXXVIII. The Ascent Of Suvela. + + +"Come let us scale," the hero cried, +"This hill with various metals dyed. +This night upon the breezy crest +Sugríva, Lakshman, I, will rest, +With sage Vibhishan, faithful friend, +His counsel and his lore to lend. +From those tall peaks each eager eye +The foeman's city shall espy, +Who from the wood my darling stole +And brought long anguish on my soul." + + Thus spake the lord of men, and bent +His footsteps to the steep ascent, +And Lakshman, true in weal and woe, +Next followed with his shafts and bow. +Vibhishan followed, next in place, +The sovereign of the Vánar race, +And hundreds of the forest kind +Thronged with impetuous feet, behind. +The chiefs in woods and mountains bred +Fast followed to Suvela's head, +And gazed on Lanká bright and fair +As some gay city in the air. +On glittering gates, on ramparts raised +By giant hands, the chieftains gazed. +They saw the mighty hosts that, skilled +In arts of war, the city filled, +And ramparts with new ramparts lined, +The swarthy hosts that stood behind. +With spirits burning for the fight +They saw the giants from the height, +And from a hundred throats rang out +Defiance and the battle shout. +Then sank the sun with dying flame, +And soft the shades of twilight came, +And the full moon's delicious light +Was shed upon the tranquil night. + + + + +Canto XXXIX. Lanká. + + +They slept secure: the sun arose +And called the chieftains from repose. +Before the wondering Vánars, gay +With grove and garden, Lanká lay, +Where golden buds the Champak showed, +And bright with bloom Asoka glowed, +And palm and Sál and many a tree +With leaf and flower were fair to see. +They looked on wood and lawn and glade, +On emerald grass and dusky shade, +Where creepers filled the air with scent, +And luscious fruit the branches bent, +Where bees inebriate loved to throng, +And each sweet bird was loud in song. +The wondering Vánars passed the bound +That circled that enchanting ground, +And as they came a sweet breeze through +The odorous alleys softly blew. +Some Vánars, at their king's behest, +Onward to bannered Lanká pressed, +While, startled by the strangers' tread, +The birds and deer before them fled. +Earth trembled at each step they took, +And Lanká at their shouting shook. +Bright rose before their wondering eyes +Trikúta's peak that kissed the skies, +And, clothed with flowers of every hue, +Afar its golden radiance threw. +Most fair to see the mountain's head +A hundred leagues in length was spread. +There Rávan's town, securely placed, +The summit of Trikúta graced. +O'er leagues of land she stretched in pride, +A hundred long and twenty wide. +They saw a lofty wall enfold +The city, built of blocks of gold, +They saw the beams of morning fall +On dome and fane within the wall, +Bright with the shine that mansion gives +Where Vishnu in his glory lives. +White-crested like the Lord of Snows +Before them Rávan's palace rose. +High on a thousand pillars raised +With gold and precious stone it blazed, +Guarded by giant warders, crown +And ornament of Lanká's town. + + + + +Canto XL. Rávan Attacked. + + +Still stood the son of Raghu where +Suvela's peak rose high in air, +And with Sugríva turned his eye +To scan each quarter of the sky. +There on Trikúta, nobly planned +And built by Visvakarmá's hand, +He saw the lovely Lanká, dressed +In all her varied beauty, rest. +High on a tower above the gate +The tyrant stood in kingly state. +The royal canopy displayed +Above him lent its grateful shade, +And servants, from the giant band, +His cheek with jewelled chowries fanned. +Red sandal o'er his breast was spread, +His ornaments and robe were red: +Thus shows a cloud of darksome hue +With golden sunbeams flashing through. +While Ráma and the chiefs intent +Upon the king their glances bent, +Up sprang Sugríva from the ground +And reached the turret at a bound. +Unterrified the Vánar stood, +And wroth, with wondrous hardihood, +The king in bitter words addressed, +And thus his scorn and hate expressed: + + "King of the giant race, in me +The friend and slave of Ráma see. +Lord of the world, he gives me power +To smite thee in thy fenced tower." +While through the air his challenge rang, +At Rávan's face the Vánar sprang. +Snatched from his head the kingly crown +And dashed it in his fury down. +Straight at his foe the giant flew, +His mighty arms about him threw. +With strength resistless swung him round +And dashed him panting to the ground. +Unharmed amid the storm of blows +Swift to his feet Sugríva rose. +Again in furious fight they met: +With streams of blood their limbs were wet, +Each grasping his opponent's waist. +Thus with their branches interlaced, +Which, crimson with the flowers of spring, +From side to side the breezes swing, +In furious wrestle you may see +The Kinsuk and the Seemal tree.(948) +They fought with fists and hands, alike +Prepared to parry and to strike. +Long time the doubtful combat, waged +With matchless strength and fury, raged. +Each fiercely struck, each guarded well, +Till, closing, from the tower they fell, +And, grasping each the other's throat, +Lay for an instant in the moat. +They rose, and each in fiercer mood +The sanguinary strife renewed. +Well matched in size and strength and skill +They fought the dubious battle still. +While sweat and blood their limbs bedewed +They met, retreated, and pursued: +Each stratagem and art they tried, +Stood front to front and swerved aside. +His hand a while the giant stayed +And called his magic to his aid. +But brave Sugríva, swift to know +The guileful purpose of the foe, +Gained with light leap the upper air, +And breath and strength and spirit there; +Then, joyous as for victory won, +Returned to Raghu's royal son. + + + + +Canto XLI. Ráma's Envoy. + + +When Ráma saw each bloody trace +On King Sugríva's limbs and face, +He cried, while, sorrowing at the view, +His arms about his friend he threw: +"Too venturous chieftain, kings like us +Bring not their lives in peril thus; +Nor, save when counsel shows the need, +Attempt so bold, so rash a deed. +Remember, I, Vibhishan all +Have sorrowed fearing for thy fall. +O do not--for us all I speak-- +These desperate adventures seek." +"I could not," cried Sugríva, "brook +Upon the giant king to look, +Nor challenge to the deadly strife +The fiend who robbed thee of thy wife." +"Now Lakshman, marshal," Ráma cried, +"Our legions where the woods are wide, +And stand we ready to oppose +The fury of our giant foes. +This day our armies shall ascend +The walls which Rávan's powers defend, +And floods of Rákshas blood shall stain +The streets encumbered with the slain." +Down from the peak he came, and viewed +The Vánars' ordered multitude. +Each captain there for battle burned, +Each fiery eye to Lanká turned. +On, where the royal brothers led +To Lanká's walls the legions sped. +The northern gate, where giant foes +Swarmed round their monarch, Ráma chose +Where he in person might direct +The battle, and his troops protect. +What arm but his the post might keep +Where, strong as he who sways the deep,(949) +Mid thousands armed with bow and mace, +Stood Rávan mightiest of his race? +The eastern gate was Níla's post, +Where marshalled stood his Vánar host, +And Mainda with his troops arrayed, +And Dwivid stood to lend him aid. +The southern gate was Angad's care, +Who ranged his bold battalions there. +Hanúmán by the port that faced +The setting sun his legions placed, +And King Sugríva held the wood +East of the gate where Rávan stood. +On every side the myriads met, +And Lanká's walls of close beset +That scarce the roving gale could win +A passage to the hosts within. +Loud as the angry ocean's roar +When wild waves lash the rocky shore, +Ten thousand thousand throats upsent +A shout that tore the firmament, +And Lanká with each grove and brook +And tower and wall and rampart shook. +The giants heard, and were appalled: +Then Raghu's son to Angad called, +And, led by kingly duty,(950) gave +This order merciful as brave: +"Go, Angad, Rávan's presence seek, +And thus my words of warning speak: +"How art thou changed and fallen now, +O Monarch of the giants, thou +Whose impious fury would not spare +Saint, nymph, or spirit of the air; +Whose foot in haughty triumph trod +On Yaksha, king, and Serpent God: +How art thou fallen from thy pride +Which Brahmá's favour fortified! +With myriads at thy Lanká's gate +I stand my righteous ire to sate, +And punish thee with sword and flame, +The tyrant fiend who stole my dame. +Now show the might, employ the guile, +O Monarch of the giants' isle, +Which stole a helpless dame away: +Call up thy power and strength to-day. +Once more I warn thee, Rákshas King, +This hour the Maithil lady bring, +And, yielding while there yet is time, +Seek, suppliant, pardon for the crime, +Or I will leave beneath the sun +No living Rákshas, no, not one. +In vain from battle wilt thou fly, +Or borne on pinions seek the sky; +The hand of Ráma shall not spare; +His fiery shaft shall smite thee there.' " + + He ceased: and Angad bowed his head; +Thence like embodied flame he sped, +And lighted from his airy road +Within the Rákshas king's abode. +There sate, the centre of a ring +Of counsellors, the giant king. +Swift through the circle Angad pressed, +And spoke with fury in his breast: +"Sent by the lord of Kosal's land, +His envoy here, O King, I stand, +Angad the son of Báli: fame +Has haply taught thine ears my name. +Thus in the words of Ráma I +Am come to warn thee or defy: +Come forth, and fighting in the van +Display the spirit of a man. +This arm shall slay thee, tyrant: all +Thy nobles, kith and kin shall fall: +And earth and heaven, from terror freed, +Shall joy to see the oppressor bleed. +Vibhishan, when his foe is slain, +Anointed king in peace shall reign. +Once more I counsel thee: repent, +Avoid the mortal punishment, +With honour due the dame restore, +And pardon for thy sin implore." + + Loud rose the king's infuriate cry: +"Seize, seize the Vánar, let him die." +Four of his band their lord obeyed, +And eager hands on Angad laid. +He purposing his strength to show +Gave no resistance to the foe, +But swiftly round his captors cast +His mighty arms and held them fast. +Fierce shout and cry around him rang: +Light to the palace roof he sprang, +There his detaining arms unwound, +And hurled the giants to the ground. +Then, smiting with a fearful stroke, +A turret from the roof he broke,-- +As when the fiery levin sent +By Indra from the clouds has rent +The proud peak of the Lord of Snow,-- +And flung the stony mass below. +Again with loud terrific cry +He sprang exulting to the sky, +And, joyous for his errand done, +Stood by the side of Raghu's son. + + + + +Canto XLII. The Sally. + + +Still was the cry, "The Vánar foes +Around the leaguered city close." +King Rávan from the terrace gazed +And saw, with eyes where fury blazed, +The Vánar host in serried ranks +Press to the moat and line the banks, +And, first in splendour and in place, +The lion lord of Raghu's race. +And Ráma looked on Lanká where +Gay flags were streaming to the air, +And, while keen sorrow pierced him through, +His loving thoughts to Sítá flew: +"There, there in deep affliction lies +My darling with the fawn-like eyes. +There on the cold bare ground she keeps +Sad vigil and for Ráma weeps." +Mad with the thought, "Charge, charge," he cried. +"Let earth with Rákshas blood be dyed." + + Responsive to his call rang out +A loud, a universal shout, +As myriads filled the moat with stone, +Trees, rocks, and mountains overthrown, +And charging at their leader's call +Pressed forward furious to the wall. +Some in their headlong ardour scaled +The rampart's height, the guard assailed, +And many a ponderous fragment rent +From portal, tower, and battlement. +Huge gates adorned with burnished gold +Were loosed and lifted from their hold; +And post and pillar, with a sound +Like thunder, fell upon the ground. +At every portal, east and west +And north and south, the chieftains pressed +Each in his post appointed led +His myriads in the forest bred. + + "Charge, let the gates be opened wide: +Charge, charge, my giants," Rávan cried. +They heard his voice, and loud and long +Rang the wild clamour of the throng, +And shell and drum their notes upsent, +And every martial instrument. +Forth, at the bidding of their lord +From every gate the giants poured, +As, when the waters rise and swell, +Huge waves preceding waves impel. +Again from every Vánar throat +A scream of fierce defiance smote +The welkin: earth and sea and sky +Reëchoed with the awful cry. +The roar of elephants, the neigh +Of horses eager for the fray. +The frequent clash of warriors' steel, +The rattling of the chariot wheel. +Fierce was the deadly fight: opposed +In terrible array they closed, +As when the Gods of heaven enraged +With rebel fiends wild battle waged. +Axe, spear, and mace were wielded well: +At every blow a Vánar fell. +But shivered rock and brandished tree +Brought many a giant on his knee, +To perish in his turn beneath +The deadly wounds of nails and teeth. + + + + +Canto XLIII. The Single Combats. + + +Brave chiefs of each opposing side +Their strength in single combat tried. +Fierce Indrajít the fight began +With Angad in the battle's van. +Sampáti, strongest of his race, +Stood with Prajangha face to face. +Hanúmán, Jambumáli met +In mortal opposition set. +Vibhishan, brother of the lord +Of Lanká, raised his threatening sword +And singled out, with eyes aglow +With wrath, Satrughna for his foe. +The mighty Gaja Tapan sought, +And Níla with Nikumbha fought. +Sugríva, Vánar king, defied +Fierce Praghas long in battle tried, +And Lakshman fearless in the fight +Encountered Vírúpáksha's might. +To meet the royal Ráma came +Wild Agniketu fierce as flame; +Mitraghana, he who loved to strike +His foeman and his friend alike: +With Rasmiketu, known and feared +Where'er his ponderous flag was reared; +And Yajnakopa whose delight +Was ruin of the sacred rite. +These met and fought, with thousands more, +And trampled earth was red with gore. +Swift as the bolt which Indra sends +When fire from heaven the mountain rends +Smote Indrajít with furious blows +On Angad queller of his foes. +But Angad from his foeman tore +The murderous mace the warrior bore, +And low in dust his coursers rolled, +His driver, and his car of gold. +Struck by the shafts Prajangha sped, +The Vánar chief Sampáti bled, +But, heedless of his gashes he +Crushed down the giant with a tree. +Then car-borne Jambumáli smote +Hanumán on the chest and throat; +But at the car the Vánar rushed, +And chariot, steeds, and rider crushed. +Sugríva whirled a huge tree round, +And struck fierce Praghas to the ground. +One arrow shot from Lakshman's bow +Laid mighty Vírúpáksha low. +His giant foes round Ráma pressed +And shot their shafts at head and breast; +But, when the iron shower was spent, +Four arrows from his bow he sent, +And every missile, deftly sped; +Cleft from the trunk a giant head.(951) + + + + +Canto XLIV. The Night. + + +The lord of Light had sunk and set: +Night came; the foeman struggled yet; +And fiercer for the gloom of night +Grew the wild fury of the fight. +Scarce could each warrior's eager eye +The foeman from the friend descry. +"Rákshas or Vánar? say;" cried each, +And foe knew foeman by his speech. +"Why wilt thou fly? O warrior, stay: +Turn on the foe, and rend and slay:" +Such were the cries, such words of fear +Smote through the gloom each listening ear. +Each swarthy rover of the night +Whose golden armour flashed with light, +Showed like a towering hill embraced +By burning woods about his waist. +The giants at the Vánars flew, +And ravening ate the foes they slew: +With mortal bite like serpent's fang, +The Vánars at the giants sprang, +And car and steeds and they who bore +The pennons fell bedewed with gore. +No serried band, no firm array +The fury of their charge could stay. +Down went the horse and rider, down +Went giant lords of high renown. +Though midnight's shade was dense and dark, +With skill that swerved not from the mark +Their bows the sons of Raghu drew, +And each keen shaft a chieftain slew. +Uprose the blinding dust from meads +Ploughed by the cars and trampling steeds, +And where the warriors fell the flood +Was dark and terrible with blood. +Six giants(952) singled Ráma out, +And charged him with a furious shout +Loud as the roaring of the sea +When every wind is raging free. +Six times he shot: six heads were cleft; +Six giants dead on earth were left. +Nor ceased he yet: his bow he strained, +And from the sounding weapon rained +A storm of shafts whose fiery glare +Filled all the region of the air; +And chieftains dropped before his aim +Like moths that perish in the flame. +Earth glistened where the arrows fell, +As shines in autumn nights a dell +Which fireflies, flashing through the gloom, +With momentary light illume. + + But Indrajít, when Báli's son(953) +The victory o'er the foe had won, +Saw with a fury-kindled eye +His mangled steeds and driver die; +Then, lost in air, he fled the fight, +And vanished from the victor's sight. +The Gods and saints glad voices raised, +And Angad for his virtue praised; +And Raghu's sons bestowed the meed +Of honour due to valorous deed. + + Compelled his shattered car to quit, +Rage filled the soul of Indrajít, +Who brooked not, strong by Brahmá's grace +Defeat from one of Vánar race. +In magic mist concealed from view +His bow the treacherous warrior drew, +And Raghu's sons were first to feel +The tempest of his winged steel. +Then when his arrows failed to kill +The princes who defied him still, +He bound them with the serpent noose,(954) +The magic bond which none might loose. + + + + +Canto XLV. Indrajít's Victory. + + +Brave Ráma, burning still to know +The station of his artful foe, +Gave to ten chieftains, mid the best +Of all the host, his high behest. +Swift rose in air the Vánar band: +Each region of the sky they scanned: +But Rávan's son by magic skill +Checked them with arrows swifter still, +When streams of blood from chest and side +The dauntless Vánars' limbs had dyed, +The giant in his misty shroud +Showed like the sun obscured by cloud. +Like serpents hissing through the air, +His arrows smote the princely pair; +And from their limbs at every rent +A stream of rushing blood was sent. +Like Kinsuk trees they stood, that show +In spring their blossoms' crimson glow. +Then Indrajít with fury eyed +Ikshváku's royal sons, and cried: + + "Not mighty Indra can assail +Or see me when I choose to veil +My form in battle: and can ye, +Children of earth, contend with me? +The arrowy noose this hand has shot +Has bound you with a hopeless knot; +And, slaughtered by my shafts and bow, +To Yáma's hall this hour ye go." + + He spoke, and shouted. Then anew +The arrows from his bowstring flew, +And pierced, well aimed with perfect art, +Each limb and joint and vital part. +Transfixed with shafts in every limb, +Their strength relaxed, their eyes grew dim. +As two tall standards side by side, +With each sustaining rope untied, +Fall levelled by the howling blast, +So earth's majestic lords at last +Beneath the arrowy tempest reeled, +And prostrate pressed the battle field. + + + + +Canto XLVI. Indrajít's Triumph. + + +The Vánar chiefs whose piercing eyes +Scanned eagerly the earth and skies, +Saw the brave brothers wounded sore +Transfixed with darts and stained with gore. +The monarch of the Vánar race, +With wise Vibhishan, reached the place; +Angad and Níla came behind, +And others of the forest kind, +And standing with Hanúmán there +Lamented for the fallen pair. +Their melancholy eyes they raised; +In fruitless search a while they gazed. +But magic arts Vibhishan knew; +Not hidden from his keener view, +Though veiled by magic from the rest, +The son of Rávan stood confessed. +Fierce Indrajít with savage pride +The fallen sons of Raghu eyed, +And every giant heart was proud +As thus the warrior cried aloud: + + "Slain by mine arrows Ráma lies, +And closed in death are Lakshman's eyes. +Dead are the mighty princes who +Dúshan and Khara smote and slew. +The Gods and fiends may toil in vain +To free them from the binding chain. +The haughty chief, my father's dread, +Who drove him sleepless from his bed, +While Lanká, troubled like a brook +In rain time, heard his name and shook: +He whose fierce hate our lives pursued +Lies helpless by my shafts subdued. +Now fruitless is each wondrous deed +Wrought by the race the forests breed, +And fruitless every toil at last +Like cloudlets when the rains are past." +Then rose the shout of giants loud +As thunder from a bursting cloud, +When, deeming Ráma, dead, they raised +Their voices and the conqueror praised. + + Still motionless, as lie the slain, +The brothers pressed the bloody plain, +No sigh they drew, no breath they heaved, +And lay as though of life bereaved. +Proud of the deed his art had done, +To Lanká's town went Rávan's son, +Where, as he passed, all fear was stilled, +And every heart with triumph filled. +Sugríva trembled as he viewed +Each fallen prince with blood bedewed, +And in his eyes which overflowed +With tears the flame of anger glowed. +"Calm," cried Vibhishan, "calm thy fears, +And stay the torrent of thy tears. +Still must the chance of battle change, +And victory still delight to range. +Our cause again will she befriend +And bring us triumph in the end. +This is not death: each prince will break +The spell that holds him, and awake; +Nor long shall numbing magic bind +The mighty arm, the lofty mind." + + He ceased: his finger bathed in dew +Across Sugríva's eyes he drew; +From dulling mist his vision freed, +And spoke these words to suit the need: +"No time is this for fear: away +With fainting heart and weak delay. +Now, e'en the tear which sorrow wrings +From loving eyes destruction brings. +Up, on to battle at the head +Of those brave troops which Ráma led. +Or guardian by his side remain +Till sense and strength the prince regain. +Soon shall the trance-bound pair revive, +And from our hearts all sorrow drive. +Though prostrate on the earth he lie, +Deem not that Ráma's death is nigh; +Deem not that Lakshmí will forget +Or leave her darling champion yet. +Rest here and be thy heart consoled; +Ponder my words, be firm and bold. +I, foremost in the battlefield, +Will rally all who faint or yield. +Their staring eyes betray their fear; +They whisper each in other's ear. +They, when they hear my cheering cry +And see the friend of Ráma nigh, +Will cast their gloom and fears away +Like faded wreaths of yesterday." + + Thus calmed he King Sugríva's dread; +Then gave new heart to those who fled. +Fierce Indrajít, his soul on fire +With pride of conquest, sought his sire, +Raised reverent hands, and told him all, +The battle and the princes' fall. +Rejoicing at his foes' defeat +Upsprang the monarch from his seat, +Girt by his giant courtiers: round +His warrior son his arms he wound, +Close kisses on his head applied, +And heard again how Ráma died. + + + + +Canto XLVII. Sítá. + + +Still on the ground where Ráma slept +Their faithful watch the Vánars kept. +There Angad stood o'erwhelmed with grief +And many a lord and warrior chief; +And, ranged in densest mass around, +Their tree-armed legions held the ground. +Far ranged each Vánar's eager eye, +Now swept the land, now sought the sky, +All fearing, if a leaf was stirred, +A Rákshas in the sound they heard. +The lord of Lanká in his hall, +Rejoicing at his foeman's fall, +Commanded and the warders came +Who ever watched the Maithil dame. +"Go," cried the Rákshas king, "relate +To Janak's child her husband's fate. +Low on the earth her Ráma lies, +And dark in death are Lakshman's eyes. +Bring forth my car and let her ride +To view the chieftains side by side. +The lord to whom her fancy turned +For whose dear sake my love she spurned, +Lies smitten, as he fiercely led +The battle, with his brother dead. +Lead forth the royal lady: go +Her husband's lifeless body show. +Then from all doubt and terror free +Her softening heart will turn to me." + + They heard his speech: the car was brought; +That shady grove the warders sought +Where, mourning Ráma night and day, +The melancholy lady lay. +They placed her in the car and through +The yielding air they swiftly flew. +The lady looked upon the plain, +Looked on the heaps of Vánar slain, +Saw where, triumphant in the fight, +Thronged the fierce rovers of the night, +And Vánar chieftains, mournful-eyed, +Watched by the fallen brothers' side. +There stretched upon his gory bed +Each brother lay as lie the dead, +With shattered mail and splintered bow +Pierced by the arrows of the foe. +When on the pair her eyes she bent, +Burst from her lips a wild lament +Her eyes o'erflowed, she groaned and sighed +And thus in trembling accents cried: + + + + +Canto XLVIII. Sítá's Lament. + + +"False are they all, proved false to-day, +The prophets of my fortune, they +Who in the tranquil time of old +A blessed life for me foretold, +Predicting I should never know +A childless dame's, a widow's woe, +False are they all, their words are vain, +For thou, my lord and life, art slain. +False was the priest and vain his lore +Who blessed me in those days of yore +By Ráma's side in bliss to reign: +For thou, my lord and life, art slain. +They hailed me happy from my birth, +Proud empress of the lord of earth. +They blessed me--but the thought is pain-- +For thou, my lord and life, art slain. +Ah, fruitless hope! each glorious sign +That stamps the future queen is mine, +With no ill-omened mark to show +A widow's crushing hour of woe. +They say my hair is black and fine, +They praise my brows' continuous line; +My even teeth divided well, +My bosom for its graceful swell. +They praise my feet and fingers oft; +They say my skin is smooth and soft, +And call me happy to possess +The twelve fair marks that bring success.(955) +But ah, what profit shall I gain? +Thou, O my lord and life, art slain. +The flattering seer in former days +My gentle girlish smile would praise, +And swear that holy water shed +By Bráhman hands upon my head +Should make me queen, a monarch's bride: +How is the promise verified? +Matchless in might the brothers slew +In Janasthán the giant crew. +And forced the indomitable sea +To let them pass to rescue me. +Theirs was the fiery weapon hurled +By him who rules the watery world;(956) +Theirs the dire shaft by Indra sped; +Theirs was the mystic Brahmá's Head.(957) +In vain they fought, the bold and brave: +A coward's hand their death-wounds gave. +By secret shafts and magic spell +The brothers, peers of Indra, fell. +That foe, if seen by Ráma's eye +One moment, had not lived to fly. +Though swift as thought, his utmost speed +Had failed him in the hour of need. +No might, no tear, no prayer may stay +Fate's dark inevitable day. +Nor could their matchless valour shield +These heroes on the battle field. +I sorrow for the noble dead, +I mourn my hopes for ever fled; +But chief my weeping eyes o'erflow +For Queen Kausalyá's hopeless woe. +The widowed queen is counting now +Each hour prescribed by Ráma's vow, +And lives because she longs to see +Once more her princely sons and me." + + Then Trijatá,(958) of gentler mould +Though Rákshas born, her grief consoled: +"Dear Queen, thy causeless woe dispel: +Thy husband lives, and all is well. +Look round: in every Vánar face +The light of joyful hope I trace. +Not thus, believe me, shine the eyes +Of warriors when their leader dies. +An Army, when the chief is dead, +Flies from the field dispirited. +Here, undisturbed in firm array, +The Vánars by the brothers stay. +Love prompts my speech; no longer grieve; +Ponder my counsel, and believe. +These lips of mine from earliest youth +Have spoken, and shall speak, the truth. +Deep in my heart thy gentle grace +And patient virtues hold their place. +Turn, lady, turn once more thine eye: +Though pierced with shafts the heroes lie, +On brows and cheeks with blood-drops wet +The light of beauty lingers yet. +Such beauty ne'er is found in death, +But vanishes with parting breath. +O, trust the hope these tokens give: +The heroes are not dead, but live." + + Then Sítá joined her hands, and sighed, +"O, may thy words be verified!" +The car was turned, which fleet as thought +The mourning queen to Lanká brought. +They led her to the garden, where +Again she yielded to despair, +Lamenting for the chiefs who bled +On earth's cold bosom with the dead. + + + + +Canto XLIX. Ráma's Lament. + + +Ranged round the spot where Ráma fell +Each Vánar chief stood sentinel. +At length the mighty hero broke +The trance that held him, and awoke. +He saw his senseless brother, dyed +With blood from head to foot, and cried: +"What have I now to do with life +Or rescue of my prisoned wife, +When thus before my weeping eyes, +Slain in the fight, my brother lies? +A queen like Sítá I may find +Among the best of womankind, +But never such a brother, tried +In war, my guardian, friend, and guide. +If he be dead, the brave and true, +I will not live but perish too. +How, reft of Lakshman, shall I meet +My mother, and Kaikeyí greet? +My brother's eager question brook, +And fond Sumitrá's longing look? +What shall I say, o'erwhelmed with shame +To cheer the miserable dame? +How, when she hears her son is dead, +Will her sad heart be comforted? +Ah me, for longer life unfit +This mortal body will I quit; +For Lakshman slaughtered for my sake, +From sleep of death will never wake. +Ah when I sank oppressed with care, +Thy gentle voice could soothe despair. +And art thou, O my brother, killed? +Is that dear voice for ever stilled? +Cold are those lips, my brother, whence +Came never word to breed offence? +Ah stretched upon the gory plain +My brother lies untimely slain: +Numbed is the mighty arm that slew +The leaders of the giant crew. +Transfixed with shafts, with blood-streams red, +Thou liest on thy lowly bed: +So sinks to rest, his journey done, +Mid arrowy rays the crimson sun. +Thou, when from home and sire I fled, +The wood's wild ways with me wouldst tread: +Now close to thine my steps shall be, +For I in death will follow thee. +Vibhishan now will curse my name, +And Ráma as a braggart blame, +Who promised--but his word is vain-- +That he in Lanká's isle should reign. +Return, Sugríva: reft of me +Lead back thy Vánars o'er the sea, +Nor hope to battle face to face +With him who rules the giant race. +Well have ye done and nobly fought, +And death in desperate combat sought. +All that heroic might can do, +Brave Vánars, has been done by you. +My faithful friends I now dismiss: +Return: my last farewell is this." + + Bedewed with tears was every cheek +As thus the Vánars heard him speak. +Vibhishan on the field had stayed +The Vánar hosts who fled dismayed. +Now lifting up his mace on high +With martial step the chief drew nigh. +The hosts who watched by Ráma's side +Beheld his shape and giant stride. +'Tis he, 'tis Rávan's son, they thought: +And all in flight their safety sought. + + + + +Canto L. The Broken Spell. + + +Sugríva viewed the flying crowd, +And thus to Angad cried aloud: +"Why run the trembling hosts, as flee +Storm-scattered barks across the sea?" +"Dost thou not mark," the chief replied, +"Transfixed with shafts, with bloodstreams dyed, +With arrowy toils about them wound, +The sons of Raghu on the ground?" + + That moment brought Vibhishan near. +Sugríva knew the cause of fear, +And ordered Jámbaván, who led +The bears, to check the hosts that fled. +The king of bears his hest obeyed: +The Vánars' headlong flight was stayed. +A little while Vibhishan eyed +The brothers fallen side by side. +His giant fingers wet with dew +Across the heroes' eyes he drew, +Still on the pair his sad look bent, +And spoke these word in wild lament: +"Ah for the mighty chiefs brought low +By coward hand and stealthy blow! +Brave pair who loved the open fight, +Slain by that rover of the night. +Dishonest is the victory won +By Indrajít my brother's son. +I on their might for aid relied, +And in my cause they fought and died. +Lost is the hope that soothed each pain: +I live, but live no more to reign, +While Lanká's lord, untouched by ill, +Exults in safe defiance still." + + "Not thus," Sugríva said, "repine, +For Lanká's isle shall still be thine. +Nor let the tyrant and his son +Exult before the fight be done. +These royal chiefs, though now dismayed, +Freed from the spell by Garud's aid, +Triumphant yet the foe shall meet +And lay the robber at their feet." + + His hope the Vánar monarch told, +And thus Vibhishan's grief consoled. +Then to Sushen who at his side +Expectant stood, Sugríva cried: +"When these regain their strength and sense, +Fly, bear them to Kishkindhá hence. +Here with my legions will I stay, +The tyrant and his kinsmen slay, +And, rescued from the giant king, +The Maithil lady will I bring, +Like Glory lost of old, restored +By Sakra, heaven's almighty lord." + + Sushen made answer: "Hear me yet: +When Gods and fiends in battle met, +So fiercely fought the demon crew, +So wild a storm of arrows flew, +That heavenly warriors faint with pain, +Sank smitten by the ceaseless rain. +Vrihaspati,(959) with herb and spell, +Cured the sore wounds of those who fell. +And, skilled in arts that heal and save, +New life and sense and vigour gave. +Far, on the Milky Ocean's shore, +Still grow those herbs in boundless store; +Let swiftest Vánars thither speed +And bring them for our utmost need. +Those herbs that on the mountain spring +Let Panas and Sampáti bring, +For well the wondrous leaves they know, +That heal each wound and life bestow. +Beside that sea which, churned of yore, +The amrit on its surface bore, +Where the white billows lash the land, +Chandra's fair height and Drona stand. +Planted by Gods each glittering steep +Looks down upon the milky deep. +Let fleet Hanúmán bring us thence +Those herbs of wondrous influence." + + Meanwhile the rushing wind grew loud, +Red lightnings flashed from banks of cloud. +The mountains shook, the wild waves rose, +And smitten with resistless blows +Unrooted fell each stately tree +That fringed the margin of the sea. +All life within the waters feared +Then, as the Vánars gazed, appeared +King Garud's self, a wondrous sight, +Disclosed in flames of fiery light. +From his fierce eye in sudden dread +All serpents in a moment fled. +And those transformed to shaft that bound +The princes vanished in the ground. +On Raghu's sons his eyes he bent, +And hailed the lords armipotent. +Then o'er them stooped the feathered king, +And touched their faces with his wing. +His healing touch their pangs allayed, +And closed each rent the shafts had made. +Again their eyes were bright and bold, +Again the smooth skin shone like gold. +Again within their shell enshrined +Came memory and each power of mind: +And, from those numbing bonds released, +Their spirit, zeal, and strength increased. +Firm on their feet they stood, and then +Thus Ráma spake, the lord of men: + + "By thy dear grace in sorest need +From deadly bonds we both are freed. +To these glad eyes as welcome now +As Aja(960) or my sire art thou. +Who art thou, mighty being? say, +Thus glorious in thy bright array." +He ceased: the king of birds replied, +While flashed his eye with joy and pride: +"In me, O Raghu's son, behold +One who has loved thee from of old: +Garud, the lord of all that fly, +Thy guardian and thy friend am I. +Not all the Gods in heaven could loose +These numbing bonds, this serpent noose, +Wherewith fierce Rávan's son, renowned +For magic arts, your limbs had bound. +Those arrows fixed in every limb +Were mighty snakes, transformed by him. +Blood thirsty race, they live beneath +The earth, and slay with venomed teeth. +On, smite the lord of Lanká's isle, +But guard you from the giants' guile +Who each dishonest art employ +And by deceit brave foes destroy. +So shall the tyrant Rávan bleed, +And Sítá from his power be freed." +Thus Garud spake: then, swift as thought, +The region of the sky he sought, +Where in the distance like a blaze +Of fire he vanished from the gaze. + + Then the glad Vánars' joy rang out +In many a wild tumultuous shout, +And the loud roar of drum and shell +Startled each distant sentinel. + + + + +Canto LI. Dhúmráksha's Sally. + + +King Rávan, where he sat within, +Heard from his hall the deafening din, +And with a spirit ill at ease +Addressed his lords in words like these: + + "That warlike shout, those joyous cries, +Loud as the thunder of the skies, +Upsent from every Vánar throat, +Some new-born confidence denote. +Hark, how the sea and trembling shore +Re-echo with the Vánars' roar. +Though arrowy chains, securely twined +Both Ráma and his brother bind, +Still must the fierce triumphant shout +Disturb my soul with rising doubt. +Swift envoys to the army send, +And learn what change these cries portend." + + Obedient, at their master's call, +Fleet giants clomb the circling wall. +They saw the Vánars formed and led: +They saw Sugríva at their head, +The brothers from their bonds released: +And hope grew faint and fear increased. +Their faces pale with doubt and dread, +Back to the giant king they sped, +And to his startled ear revealed +The tidings of the battle field. + + The flush of rage a while gave place +To chilling fear that changed his face: + + "What?" cried the tyrant, "are my foes +Freed from the binding snakes that close +With venomed clasp round head and limb, +Bright as the sun and fierce like him: +The spell a God bestowed of yore, +The spell that never failed before? +If arts like these be useless, how +Shall giant strength avail us now? +Go forth, Dhúmráksha, good at need, +The bravest of my warriors lead: +Force through the foe thy conquering way, +And Ráma and the Vánars slay." + + Before his king with reverence due +Dhúmráksha bowed him, and withdrew. +Around him at his summons came +Fierce legions led by chiefs of fame. +Well armed with sword and spear and mace, +They hurried to the gathering place, +And rushed to battle, borne at speed +By elephant and car and steed. + + + + +Canto LII. Dhúmráksha's Death. + + +The Vánars saw the giant foe +Pour from the gate in gallant show, +Rejoiced with warriors' fierce delight +And shouted, longing for the fight. +Near came the hosts and nearer yet: +Dire was the tumult as they met, +As, serried line to line opposed, +The Vánars and the giants closed. +Fierce on the foe the Vánars rushed, +And, wielding trees, the foremost crushed; +But, feathered from the heron's wing, +With eager flight from sounding string, +Against them shot with surest aim +A ceaseless storm of arrows came: +And, pierced in head and chest and side, +Full many a Vánar fell and died. +They perished slain in fierce attacks +With sword and pike and battle-axe; +But myriads following undismayed +Their valour in the fight displayed. +Unnumbered Vánars rent and torn +With shaft and spear to earth were borne. +But crushed by branchy trees and blocks +Of jagged stone and shivered rocks +Which the wild Vánars wielded well +The bravest of the giants fell. +Their trampled banners strewed the fields, +And broken swords and spears and shields; +And, crushed by blows which none might stay, +Cars, elephants, and riders lay. +Dhúmráksha turned his furious eye +And saw his routed legions fly. +Still dauntless, with terrific blows, +He struck and slew his foremost foes. +At every blow, at every thrust, +He laid a Vánar in the dust. +So fell they neath the sword and lance +In battle's wild Gandharva(961) dance, +Where clang of bow and clash of sword +Did duty for the silvery chord, +And hoofs that rang and steeds that neighed +Loud concert for the dancers made. +So fiercely from Dhúmráksha's bow +His arrows rained in ceaseless flow, +The Vánar legions turned and fled +To all the winds discomfited. +Hanúmán saw the Vánars fly; +He heaved a mighty rock on high. +His keen eyes flashed with wrathful fire, +And, rapid as the Wind his sire, +Strong as the rushing tempests are, +He hurled it at the advancing car. +Swift through the air the missile sang: +The giant from the chariot sprang, +Ere crushed by that terrific blow +Lay pole and wheel and flag and bow. +Hanúmán's eyes with fury blazed: +A mountain's rocky peak he raised, +Poised it on high in act to throw, +And rushed upon his giant foe. +Dhúmráksha saw: he raised his mace +And smote Hanúmán on the face, +Who maddened by the wound's keen pang +Again upon his foeman sprang; +And on the giant's head the rock +Descended with resistless shock. +Crushed was each limb: a shapeless mass +He lay upon the blood-stained grass. + + + + +Canto LIII. Vajradanshtra's Sally. + + +When Rávan in his palace heard +The mournful news, his wrath was stirred; +And, gasping like a furious snake, +To Vajradanshtra thus he spake: + + "Go forth, my fiercest captain, lead +The bravest of the giants' breed. +Go forth, the sons of Raghu slay +And by their side Sugríva lay." + + He ceased: the chieftain bowed his head +And forth with gathered troops he sped. +Cars, camels, steeds were well arrayed, +And coloured banners o'er them played. +Rings decked his arms: about his waist +The life-protecting mail was braced, +And on the chieftain's forehead set +Glittered his cap and coronet. +Borne on a bannered car that glowed +With golden sheen the warrior rode, +And footmen marched with spear and sword +And bow and mace behind their lord. +In pomp and pride of warlike state +They sallied from the southern gate, +But saw, as on their way they sped, +Dread signs around and overhead. +For there were meteors falling fast, +Though not a cloud its shadow cast; +And each ill-omened bird and beast, +Forboding death, the fear increased, +While many a giant slipped and reeled, +Falling before he reached the field. +They met in mortal strife engaged, +And long and fierce the battle raged. +Spears, swords uplifted, gleamed and flashed, +And many a chief to earth was dashed. +A ceaseless storm of arrows rained, +And limbs were pierced and blood-distained. +Terrific was the sound that filled +The air, and every heart was chilled, +As hurtling o'er the giants flew +The rocks and trees which Vánars threw. +Fierce as a hungry lion when +Unwary deer approach his den, +Angad, his eyes with fury red, +Waving a tree above his head, +Rushed with wild charge which none could stay +Where stood the giants' dense array. +Like tall trees levelled by the blast +Before him fell the giants fast, +And earth that streamed with blood was strown +With warriors, steeds, and cars o'erthrown. + + + + +Canto LIV. Vajradanshtra's Death. + + +The giant leader fiercely rained +His arrows and the fight maintained. +Each time the clanging cord he drew +His certain shaft a Vánar slew. +Then, as the creatures he has made +Fly to the Lord of Life for aid, +To Angad for protection fled +The Vánar hosts dispirited. +Then raged the battle fiercer yet +When Angad and the giant met. +A hundred thousand arrows, hot +With flames of fire, the giant shot; +And every shaft he deftly sent +His foeman's body pierced and rent. +From Angad's limbs ran floods of gore: +A stately tree from earth he tore, +Which, maddened as his gashes bled, +He hurled at his opponent's head. +His bow the dauntless giant drew; +To meet the tree swift arrows flew, +Checked the huge missile's onward way, +And harmless on the earth it lay. +A while the Vánar chieftain gazed, +Then from the earth a rock he raised +Rent from a thunder-splitten height, +And cast it with resistless might. +The giant marked, and, mace in hand, +Leapt from his chariot to the sand, +Ere the rough mass descending broke +The seat, the wheel, the pole and yoke. + + Then Angad seized a shattered hill, +Whereon the trees were flowering still, +And with full force the jagged peak +Fell crashing on the giant's cheek. +He staggered, reeled, and fell: the blood +Gushed from the giant in a flood. +Reft of his might, each sense astray, +A while upon the sand he lay. +But strength and wandering sense returned +Again his eyes with fury burned, +And with his mace upraised on high +He wounded Angad on the thigh. +Then from his hand his mace he threw, +And closer to his foeman drew. +Then with their fists they fought, and smote +On brow and cheek and chest and throat. +Worn out with toil, their limbs bedewed, +With blood, the strife they still renewed, +Like Mercury and fiery Mars +Met in fierce battle mid the stars. + + A while the deadly fight was stayed: +Each armed him with his trusty blade +Whose sheath with tinkling bells supplied, +And golden net, adorned his side; +And grasped his ponderous leather shield +To fight till one should fall or yield. +Unnumbered wounds they gave and took: +Their wearied bodies reeled and shook. +At length upon the sand that drank +Streams of their blood the warriors sank, +But as a serpent rears his head +Sore wounded by a peasant's tread, +So Angad, fallen on his knees, +Yet gathered strength his sword to seize; +And, severed by the glittering blade, +The giant's head on earth was laid. + +[I omit Cantos LV, LVI, LVII, and LVIII, which relate how Akampan and +Prahasta sally out and fall. There is little novelty of incident in these +Cantos and the results are exactly the same as before. In Canto LV, +Akampan, at the command of Rávan, leads forth his troops. Evil omens are +seen and heard. The enemies meet, and many fall on each side, the Vánars +transfixed with arrows, the Rákshases crushed with rocks and trees. + +In Canto LVI Akampan sees that the Rákshases are worsted, and fights with +redoubled rage and vigour. The Vánars fall fast under his "nets of +arrows." Hanumán comes to the rescue. He throws mountain peaks at the +giant which are dexterously stopped with flights of arrows; and at last +beats him down and kills him with a tree. + +In Canto LVII, Rávan is seriously alarmed. He declares that he himself, +Kumbhakarna or Prahasta, must go forth. Prahasta sallies out vaunting that +the fowls of the air shall eat their fill of Vánar flesh. + +In Canto LVIII, the two armies meet. Dire is the conflict; ceaseless is +the rain of stones and arrows. At last Níla meets Prahasta and breaks his +bow. Prahasta leaps from his car, and the giant and the Vánar fight on +foot. Níla with a huge tree crushes his opponent who falls like a tree +when its roots are cut.] + + + + +Canto LIX. Rávan's Sally. + + +They told him that the chief was killed, +And Rávan's breast with rage was filled. +Then, fiercely moved by wrath and pride, +Thus to his lords the tyrant cried: + + "No longer, nobles, may we show +This lofty scorn for such a foe +By whom our bravest, with his train +Of steeds and elephants, is slain. +Myself this day will take the field, +And Raghu's sons their lives shall yield." + + High on the royal car, that glowed +With glory from his face, he rode; +And tambour shell and drum pealed out, +And joyful was each giant's shout. +A mighty host, with eyeballs red +Like flames of kindled fire, he led. +He passed the city gate, and viewed, +Arrayed, the Vánar multitude, +Those wielding massy rocks, and these +Armed with the stems of uptorn trees, +And Ráma with his eyes aglow +With warlike ardour viewed the foe, +And thus the brave Vibhishan, best +Of weapon-wielding chiefs, addressed: +"What captain leads this bright array +Where lances gleam and banners play, +And thousands armed with spear and sword +Await the bidding of their lord?" + + "Seest, thou," Vibhishan answered, "one +Whose face is as the morning sun, +Preëminent for hugest frame? +Akampan(962) is the giant's name. +Behold that chieftain, chariot-borne, +Whom Brahmá's chosen gifts adorn. +He wields a bow like Indra's own; +A lion on his flag is shown, +His eyes with baleful fire are lit: +'Tis Rávan's son, 'tis Indrajít. +There, brandishing in mighty hands +His huge bow, Atikáya stands. +And that proud warrior o'er whose head +A moon-bright canopy is spread: +Whose might, in many a battle tried, +Has tamed imperial Indra's pride; +Who wears a crown of burnished gold, +Is Lanká's lord the lofty-souled." + + He ceased: and Ráma knew his foe, +And laid an arrow on his bow: +"Woe to the wretch," he cried, "whom fate +Abandons to my deadly hate." +He spoke, and, firm by Lakshman's side, +The giant to the fray defied. +The lord of Lanká bade his train +Of warriors by the gates remain, +To guard the city from surprise +By Ráma's forest born allies. +Then as some monster of the sea +Cleaves swift-advancing billows, he +Charged with impetuous onset through +The foe, and cleft the host in two. +Sugríva ran, the king to meet: +A hill uprooted from its seat +He hurled, with trees that graced the height +Against the rover of the night: +But cleft with shafts that checked its way +Harmless upon the earth it lay. +Then fiercer Rávan's fury grew, +An arrow from his side he drew, +Swift as a thunderbolt, aglow +With fire, and launched it at the foe. +Through flesh and bone a way it found, +And stretched Sugríva on the ground. +Sushen and Nala saw him fall, +Gaváksha, Gavaya heard their call, +And, poising hills, in act to fling +They charged amain the giant king. +They charged, they hurled the hills in vain, +He checked them with his arrowy rain, +And every brave assailant felt +The piercing wounds his missiles dealt, +Then smitten by the shafts that came +Keen, fleet, and thick, with certain aim, +They fled to Ráma, sure defence +Against the oppressor's violence, +Then, reverent palm to palm applied, +Thus Lakshman to his brother cried: +"To me, my lord, the task entrust +To lay this giant in the dust." +"Go, then," said Ráma, "bravely fight; +Beat down this rover of the night. +But he, unmatched in bold emprise, +Fears not the Lord of earth and skies, +Keep on thy guard: with keenest eye +Thy moments of attack espy. +Let hand and eye in due accord +Protect thee with the bow and sword." + + Then Lakshman round his brother threw +His mighty arms in honour due, +Bent lowly down his reverent head, +And onward to the battle sped. +Hanúmán from afar beheld +How Rávan's shafts the Vánars quelled: +To meet the giant's car he ran, +Raised his right arm and thus began: +"If Brahmá's boon thy life has screened +From Yaksha, God, Gandharva, fiend, +With these contending fear no ill, +But tremble at a Vánar still." +With fury flashing from his eye +The lord of Lanká made reply: +"Strike, Vánar, strike: the fray begin, +And hope eternal fame to win. +This arm shall prove thee in the strife +And end thy glory and thy life." +"Remember," cried the Wind-God's son, +"Remember all that I have done, +My prowess, King, thou knowest well, +Shown in the fight when Aksha(963) fell." + + With heavy hand the giant smote +Hanúmán on the chest and throat, +Who reeled and staggered to and fro, +Stunned for a moment by the blow. +Till, mustering strength, his hand he reared +And struck the foe whom Indra feared. +His huge limbs bent beneath the shock, +As mountains, in an earthquake, rock, +And from the Gods and sages pealed +Shouts of loud triumph as he reeled. +But strength returning nerved his frame: +His eyeballs flashed with fiercer flame. +No living creature might resist +That blow of his tremendous fist +Which fell upon Hanúmán's flank: +And to the ground the Vánar sank, +No sign of life his body showed: +And Rávan in his chariot rode +At Níla; and his arrowy rain +Fell on the captain and his train. +Fierce Níla stayed his Vánar band, +And, heaving with his single hand +A mountain peak, with vigorous swing +Hurled the huge missile at the king. + + Hanúmán life and strength regained, +Burned for the fight and thus complained: +"Why, coward giant, didst thou flee +And leave the doubtful fight with me?" +Seven mighty arrows keen and fleet +The giant launched, the hill to meet; +And, all its force and fury stayed, +The harmless mass on earth was laid. +Enraged the Vánar chief beheld +The mountain peak by force repelled, +And rained upon the foe a shower +Of trees uptorn with branch and flower. +Still his keen shafts which pierced and rent +Each flying tree the giant sent: +Still was the Vánar doomed to feel +The tempest of the winged steel. +Then, smarting from that arrowy storm, +The Vánar chief condensed his form,(964) +And lightly leaping from the ground +On Rávan's standard footing found; +Then springing unimpeded down +Stood on his bow and golden crown. +The Vánar's nimble leaps amazed +Ikshváku's son who stood and gazed. +The giant, raging in his heart, +Laid on his bow a fiery dart; +The Vánar on his flagstaff eyed, +And thus in tones of fury cried: +"Well skilled in magic lore art thou: +But will thine art avail thee now? +See if thy magic will defend +Thy life against the dart I send." + + Thus Rávan spake, the giant king, +And loosed the arrow from the string. +It pierced, with direst fury sped, +The Vánar with its flaming head. +His father's might, his power innate +Preserved him from the threatened fate. +Upon his knees he fell, distained +With streams of blood, but life remained. + + Still Rávan for the battle burned: +At Lakshman next his car he turned, +And charged amain with furious show, +Straining in mighty hands his bow. +"Come," Lakshman cried, "assay the fight: +Leave foes unworthy of thy might." +Thus Lakshman spoke: and Lanká's lord +Heard the dread thunder of the cord. +And mad with burning rage and pride +In hasty words like these replied: +"Joy, joy is mine, O Raghu's son: +Thy fate to-day thou canst not shun. +Slain by mine arrows thou shalt tread +The gloomy pathway of the dead." + + Thus as he spoke his bow he drew, +And seven keen shafts at Lakshman flew, +But Raghu's son with surest aim +Cleft every arrow as it came. +Thus with fleet shafts each warrior shot +Against his foe, and rested not. +Then one choice weapon from his store, +By Brahmá's self bestowed of yore, +Fierce as the flames that end the world, +The giant king at Lakshman hurled. +The hero fell, and racked with pain, +Scarce could his hand his bow retain. +But sense and strength resumed their seat +And, lightly springing to his feet, +He struck with one tremendous stroke +And Rávan's bow in splinters broke. +From Lakshman's cord three arrows flew +And pierced the giant monarch through. +Sore wounded Rávan closed, and round +Ikshváku's son his strong arms wound. +With strength unrivalled, Brahmá's gift, +He strove from earth his foe to lift. +"Shall I," he cried, "who overthrow +Mount Meru and the Lord of Snow, +And heaven and all who dwell therein, +Be foiled by one of Ráma's kin?" +But though he heaved, and toiled, and strained, +Unmoved Ikshváku's son remained. +His frame by those huge arms compressed +The giant's God-given force confessed, +But conscious that himself was part +Of Vishnu, he was firm in heart. + + The Wind-God's son the fight beheld, +And rushed at Rávan, rage-impelled. +Down crashed his mighty hand; the foe +Full in the chest received the blow. +His eyes grew dim, his knees gave way, +And senseless on the earth he lay. + + The Wind-God's son to Ráma bore +Deep-wounded Lakshman stained with gore. +He whom no foe might lift or bend +Was light as air to such a friend. +The dart that Lakshman's side had cleft, +Untouched, the hero's body left, +And flashing through the air afar +Resumed its place in Rávan's car; +And, waxing well though wounded sore, +He felt the deadly pain no more. +And Rávan, though with deep wounds pained, +Slowly his sense and strength regained, +And furious still and undismayed +On bow and shaft his hand he laid. + + Then Hanumán to Ráma cried: +"Ascend my back, great chief, and ride +Like Vishnu borne on Garud's wing, +To battle with the giant king." +So, burning for the dire attack, +Rode Ráma on the Vánar's back, +And with fierce accents loud and slow +Thus gave defiance to the foe, +While his strained bowstring made a sound +Like thunder when it shakes the ground: +"Stay, Monarch of the giants, stay, +The penalty of sin to pay. +Stay! whither wilt thou fly, and how +Escape the death that waits thee now?" + + No word the giant king returned: +His eyes with flames of fury burned. +His arm was stretched, his bow was bent, +And swift his fiery shafts were sent. +Red torrents from the Vánar flowed: +Then Ráma near to Rávan strode, +And with keen darts that never failed, +The chariot of the king assailed. +With surest aim his arrows flew: +The driver and the steeds he slew. +And shattered with the pointed steel +Car, flag, and pole and yoke and wheel. +As Indra hurls his bolt to smite +Mount Meru's heaven-ascending height, +So Ráma with a flaming dart +Struck Lanká's monarch near the heart, +Who reeled and fell beneath the blow +And from loose fingers dropped his bow. +Bright as the sun, with crescent head, +From Ráma's bow an arrow sped, +And from his forehead, proud no more, +Cleft the bright coronet he wore. +Then Ráma stood by Rávan's side +And to the conquered giant cried: +"Well hast thou fought: thine arm has slain +Strong heroes of the Vánar train. +I will not strike or slay thee now, +For weary, faint with fight art thou. +To Lanká's town thy footsteps bend, +And there the night securely spend. +To-morrow come with car and bow, +And then my prowess shalt thou know." + + He ceased: the king in humbled pride +Rose from the earth and naught replied. +With wounded limbs and shattered crown +He sought again his royal town. + + + + +Canto LX. Kumbhakarna Roused. + + +With humbled heart and broken pride +Through Lanká's gate the giant hied, +Crushed, like an elephant beneath +A lion's spring and murderous teeth, +Or like a serpent 'neath the wing +And talons of the Feathered King. +Such was the giant's wild alarm +At arrows shot by Ráma's arm; +Shafts with red lightning round them curled, +Like Brahmá's bolts that end the world. + + Supported on his golden throne, +With failing eye and humbled tone, +"Giants," he cried, "the toil is vain, +Fruitless the penance and the pain, +If I whom Indra owned his peer, +Secure from Gods, a mortal fear. +My soul remembers, now too late, +Lord Brahmá's words who spoke my fate: +"Tremble, proud Giant," thus they ran, +"And dread thy death from slighted man. +Secure from Gods and demons live, +And serpents, by the boon I give. +Against their power thy life is charmed, +But against man is still unarmed." +This Ráma is the man foretold +By Anaranya's(965) lips of old: + + "Fear, Rávan, basest of the base: +For of mine own imperial race +A prince in after time shall spring +And thee and thine to ruin bring. +And Vedavatí,(966) ere she died +Slain by my ruthless insult, cried: +"A scion of my royal line +Shall slay, vile wretch, both thee and thine." +She in a later birth became +King Janak's child, now Ráma's dame. +Nandísvara(967) foretold this fate, +And Umá(968) when I moved her hate, +And Rambhá,(969) and the lovely child +Of Varun(970) by my touch defiled. +I know the fated hour is nigh: +Hence, captains, to your stations fly. +Let warders on the rampart stand: +Place at each gate a watchful band; +And, terror of immortal eyes, +Let mightiest Kumbhakarna rise. +He, slumbering, free from care and pain, +By Brahmá's curse, for months has lain. +But when Prahasta's death he hears, +Mine own defeat and doubts and fears, +The chief will rise to smite the foe +And his unrivalled valour show. +Then Raghu's royal sons and all +The Vánars neath his might will fall." + + The giant lords his hest obeyed, +They left him, trembling and afraid, +And from the royal palace strode +To Kumbhakarna's vast abode. +They carried garlands sweet and fresh, +And reeking loads of blood and flesh. +They reached the dwelling where he lay, +A cave that reached a league each way, +Sweet with fair blooms of lovely scent +And bright with golden ornament. +His breathings came so fierce and fast, +Scarce could the giants brook the blast. +They found him on a golden bed +With his huge limbs at length outspread. +They piled their heaps of venison near, +Fat buffaloes and boars and deer. +With wreaths of flowers they fanned his face, +And incense sweetened all the place. +Each raised his mighty voice as loud +As thunders of an angry cloud, +And conchs their stirring summons gave +That echoed through the giant's cave. +Then on his breast they rained their blows, +And high the wild commotion rose +When cymbal vied with drum and horn. +And war cries on the gale upborne. +Through all the air loud discord spread, +And, struck with fear, the birds fell dead. +But still he slept and took his rest. +Then dashed they on his shaggy chest +Clubs, maces, fragments of the rock: +He moved not once, nor felt the shock. +The giants made one effort more +With shell and drum and shout and roar. +Club, mallet, mace, in fury plied, +Rained blows upon his breast and side. +And elephants were urged to aid, +And camels groaned and horses neighed. +They drenched him with a hundred pails, +They tore his ears with teeth and nails. +They bound together many a mace +And beat him on the head and face; +And elephants with ponderous tread +Stamped on his limbs and chest and head. +The unusual weight his slumber broke: +He started, shook his sides, and woke; +And, heedless of the wounds and blows, +Yawning with thirst and hunger rose, +His jaws like hell gaped fierce and wide, +Dire as the flame neath ocean's tide. +Red as the sun on Meru's crest +The giant's face his wrath expressed, +And every burning breath he drew +Was like the blast that rushes through +The mountain cedars. Up he raised +His awful head with eyes that blazed +Like comets, dire as Death in form +Who threats the worlds with fire and storm. +The giants pointed to their stores +Of buffaloes and deer and boars, +And straight he gorged him with a flood +Of wine, with marrow, flesh, and blood. +He ceased: the giants ventured near +And bent their lowly heads in fear. +Then Kumbhakar[n.]a glared with eyes +Still heavy in their first surprise, +Still drowsy from his troubled rest, +And thus the giant band addressed. +"How have ye dared my sleep to break? +No trifling cause should bid me wake. +Say, is all well? or tell the need +That drives you with unruly speed +To wake me. Mark the words I say, +The king shall tremble in dismay, +The fire be quenched and Indra slain +Ere ye shall break my rest in vain." + + Yúpáksha answered: "Chieftain, hear; +No God or fiend excites our fear. +But men in arms our walls assail: +We tremble lest their might prevail. +For vengeful Ráma vows to slay +The foe who stole his queen away, +And, matchless for his warlike deeds, +A host of mighty Vánars leads. +Ere now a monstrous Vánar came, +Laid Lanká waste with ruthless flame, +And Aksha, Rávan's offspring, slew +With all his warrior retinue. +Our king who never trembled yet +For heavenly hosts in battle met, +At length the general dread has shared, +O'erthrown by Ráma's arm and spared." + + He ceased: and Kumbhakarna spake: +"I will go forth and vengeance take; +Will tread their hosts beneath my feet, +Then triumph-flushed our king will meet. +Our giant bands shall eat their fill +Of Vánars whom this arm shall kill. +The princes' blood shall be my draught, +The chieftains' shall by you be quaffed." +He spake, and, with an eager stride +That shook the earth, to Rávan hied. + + + + +Canto LXI. The Vánars' Alarm. + + +The son of Raghu near the wall +Saw, proudly towering over all, +The mighty giant stride along +Attended by the warrior throng; +Heard Kumbhakarna's heavy feet +Awake the echoes of the street; +And, with the lust of battle fired, +Turned to Vibhishan and inquired: +"Vibhishan, tell that chieftain's name +Who rears so high his mountain frame; +With glittering helm and lion eyes, +Preëminent in might and size +Above the rest of giant birth, +He towers the standard of the earth; +And all the Vánars when they see +The mighty warrior turn and flee." + + "In him," Vibhishan answered, "know +Visravas' son, the Immortals' foe, +Fierce Kumbhakarna, mightier far +Than Gods and fiends and giants are. +He conquered Yáma in the fight, +And Indra trembling owned his might. +His arm the Gods and fiends subdued, +Gandharvas and the serpent brood. +The rest of his gigantic race +Are wondrous strong by God-giving grace; +But nature at his birth to him +Gave matchless power and strength of limb. +Scarce was he born, fierce monster, when +He killed and ate a thousand men. +The trembling race of men, appalled, +On Indra for protection called; +And he, to save the suffering world, +His bolt at Kumbhakarna hurled. +So awful was the monster's yell +That fear on all the nations fell, +He, rushing on with furious roar, +A tusk from huge Airávat tore, +And dealt the God so dire a blow +That Indra reeling left his foe, +And with the Gods and mortals fled +To Brahmá's throne dispirited. +"O Brahmá," thus the suppliants cried, +"Some refuge for this woe provide. +If thus his maw the giant sate +Soon will the world be desolate." +The Self-existent calmed their woe, +And spake in anger to their foe: +"As thou wast born, Pulastya's son, +That worlds might weep by thee undone, +Thou like the dead henceforth shalt be: +Such is the curse I lay on thee." +Senseless he lay, nor spoke nor stirred; +Such was the power of Brahmá's word. +But Rávan, troubled for his sake, +Thus to the Self-existent spake: +"Who lops the tree his care has reared +When golden fruit has first appeared? +Not thus, O Brahmá, deal with one +Descended from thine own dear son.(971) +Still thou, O Lord, thy word must keep, +He may not die, but let him sleep. +Yet fix a time for him to break +The chains of slumber and awake." +He ceased: and Brahmá made reply; +"Six months in slumber shall he lie +And then arising for a day +Shall cast the numbing bonds away." +Now Rávan in his doubt and dread +Has roused the monster from his bed, +Who comes in this the hour of need +On slaughtered Vánars flesh to feed. +Each Vánar, when his awe-struck eyes +Behold the monstrous chieftain, flies. +With hopeful words their minds deceive, +And let our trembling hosts believe +They see no giant, but, displayed, +A lifeless engine deftly made." + + Then Ráma called to Níla: "Haste, +Let troops near every gate be placed, +And, armed with fragments of the rock +And trees, each lane and alley block." +Thus Ráma spoke: the chief obeyed, +And swift the Vánars stood arrayed, +As when the black clouds their battle form, +The summit of a hill to storm. + + + + +Canto LXII. Rávan's Request. + + +Along bright Lanká's royal road +The giant, roused from slumber, strode, +While from the houses on his head +A rain of fragrant flowers was shed. +He reached the monarch's gate whereon +Rich gems and golden fretwork shone. +Through court and corridor that shook +Beneath his tread his way he took, +And stood within the chamber where +His brother sat in dark despair. +But sudden, at the grateful sight +The monarch's eye again grew bright. +He started up, forgot his fear, +And drew his giant brother near. +The younger pressed the elder's feet +And paid the King observance meet, +Then cried: "O Monarch, speak thy will, +And let my care thy word fulfil. +What sudden terror and dismay +Have burst the bonds in which I lay?" + + Fierce flashed the flame from Rávan's eye, +As thus in wrath he made reply: +"Fair time, I ween, for sleep is this, +To lull thy soul in tranquil bliss, +Unheeding, in oblivion drowned, +The dangers that our lives surround. +Brave Ráma, Dasaratha's son, +A passage o'er the sea has won, +And, with the Vánar monarch's aid, +Round Lanká's walls his hosts arrayed. +Though never in the deadly field +My Rákshas troops were known to yield, +The bravest of the giant train +Have fallen by the Vánars slain. +Hence comes my fear. O fierce and brave, +Go forth, our threatened Lanká save. +Go forth, a dreadful vengeance take: +For this, O chief, I bade thee wake. +The Gods and trembling fiends have felt +The furious blows thine arm has dealt. +Earth has no warrior, heaven has none +To match thy might, Paulastya's son." + + + + +Canto LXIII. Kumbhakarna's Boast. + + +Then Kumbhakarna laughed aloud +And cried; "O Monarch, once so proud, +We warned thee, but thou wouldst not hear; +And now the fruits of sin appear. +We warned thee, I, thy nobles, all +Who loved thee, in thy council hall. +Those sovereigns who with blinded eyes +Neglect the foe their hearts despise, +Soon, falling from their high estate +Bring on themselves the stroke of fate. +Accept at length, thy life to save, +The counsel sage Vibhishan gave, +The prudent counsel spurned before, +And Sítá to her lord restore."(972) + + The monarch frowned, by passion moved +And thus in angry words reproved: +"Wilt thou thine elder brother school, +Forgetful of the ancient rule +That bids thee treat him as the sage +Who guides thee with the lore of age? +Think on the dangers of the day, +Nor idly throw thy words away: +If, led astray, by passion stirred, +I in the pride of power have erred; +If deeds of old were done amiss, +No time for vain reproach is this. +Up, brother; let thy loving care +The errors of thy king repair." + + To calm his wrath, his soul to ease, +The younger spake in words like these: +"Yea, from our bosoms let us cast +All idle sorrow for the past. +Let grief and anger be repressed: +Again be firm and self-possessed. +This day, O Monarch, shalt thou see +The Vánar legions turn and flee, +And Ráma and his brother slain +With their hearts' blood shall dye the plain. +Yea, if the God who rules the dead, +And Varun their battalions led; +If Indra with the Storm-Gods came +Against me, and the Lord of Flame, +Still would I fight with all and slay +Thy banded foes, my King, to-day. +If Raghu's son this day withstand +The blow of mine uplifted hand, +Deep in his breast my darts shall sink, +And torrents of his life-blood drink. +O fear not, in my promise trust: +This arm shall lay him in the dust, +Shall leave the fierce Sugríva dyed +With gore, and Lakshman by his side, +And strike the great Hanúmán down, +The spoiler of our glorious town."(973) + + + + +Canto LXIV. Mahodar's Speech. + + +He ceased: and when his lips were closed +Mahodar thus his rede opposed: +"Why wilt thou shame thy noble birth +And speak like one of little worth? +Why boast thee thus in youthful pride +Rejecting wisdom for thy guide? +How will thy single arm oppose +The victor of a thousand foes, +Who proved in Janasthán his might +And slew the rovers of the night? +The remnant of those legions, they +Who saw his power that fatal day, +Now in this leaguered city dread +The mighty chief from whom they fled. +And wouldst thou meet the lord of men, +Beard the great lion in his den, +And, when thine eyes are open, break +The slumber of a deadly snake? +Who may an equal battle wage +With him, so awful in his rage, +Fierce as the God of Death whom none +May vanquish, Dasaratha's son? +But, Rávan, shall the lady still +Refuse compliance with thy will? +No, listen, King, to this design +Which soon shall make the captive thine. +This day through Lanká's streets proclaim +That four of us(974) of highest fame +With Kumbhakarna at our head +Will strike the son of Raghu dead. +Forth to the battle will we go +And prove our prowess on the foe. +Then, if our bold attempt succeed, +No further plans thy hopes will need. +But if in vain our warriors strive, +And Raghu's son be left alive, +We will return, and, wounded sore, +Our armour stained with gouts of gore, +Will show the shafts that rent each frame, +Keen arrows marked with Ráma's name, +And say we giants have devoured +The princes whom our might o'erpowered. +Then let the joyful tidings spread +That Raghu's royal sons are dead. +To all around thy pleasure show, +Gold, pearls, and precious robes, bestow. +Gay garlands round the portals twine, +Enjoy the banquet and the wine. +Then go, the scornful lady seek, +And woo her when her heart is weak. +Rich robes and gold and gems display, +And gently wile her grief away. +Then will she feel her hopeless state, +Widowed, forlorn, and desolate; +Know that on thee her bliss depends, +Far from her country and her friends; +Then, her proud spirit overthrown, +The lady will be all thine own." + + + + +Canto LXV. Kumbhakarna's Speech. + + +But haughty Kumbhakarna spurned +His counsel, and to Rávan turned: +"Thy life from peril will I free +And slay the foe who threatens thee. +A hero never vaunts in vain, +Like bellowing clouds devoid of rain, +Nor, Monarch, be thine ear inclined +To counsellors of slavish kind, +Who with mean arts their king mislead +And mar each gallant plan and deed. +O, let not words like his beguile +The glorious king of Lanká's isle." + + Thus scornful Kumbhakarna cried, +And Rávan with a laugh replied: +"Mahodar fears and fain would shun +The battle with Ikshváku's son. +Of all my giant warriors, who +Is strong as thou, and brave and true? +Ride, conqueror, to the battle ride, +And tame the foeman's senseless pride. +Go forth like Yáma to the field, +And let thine arm thy trident wield. +Scared by the lightning of thine eye +The Vánar hosts will turn and fly; +And Ráma, when he sees thee near, +With trembling heart will own his fear." + + The champion heard, and, well content, +Forth from the hall his footsteps bent. +He grasped his spear, the foeman's dread, +Black iron all, both shaft and head, +Which, dyed in many a battle, bore +Great spots of slaughtered victims' gore. +The king upon his neck had thrown +The jewelled chain which graced his own. +And garlands of delicious scent +About his limbs for ornament. +Around his arms gay bracelets clung, +And pendants in his ears were hung. +Adorned with gold, about his waist +His coat of mail was firmly braced, +And like Náráyan(975) or the God +Who rules the sky he proudly trod. +Behind him went a mighty throng +Of giant warriors tall and strong, +On elephants of noblest breeds. +With cars, with camels, and with steeds: +And, armed with spear and axe and sword +Were fain to battle for their lord.(976) + + + + +Canto LXVI. Kumbhakarna's Sally. + + +In pomp and pride of warlike state +The giant passed the city gate. +He raised his voice: the hills, the shore +Of Lanká's sea returned the roar. +The Vánars saw the chief draw nigh +Whom not the ruler of the sky, +Nor Yáma, monarch of the dead, +Might vanquish, and affrighted fled. +When royal Angad, Báli's son, +Saw the scared Vánars turn and run, +Undaunted still he kept his ground, +And shouted as he gazed around: +"O Nala, Níla, stay nor let +Your souls your generous worth forget, +O Kumud and Gaváksha, why +Like base-born Vánars will ye fly? +Turn, turn, nor shame your order thus: +This giant is no match for us" + + They heard his voice: the flight was stayed; +Again for war they stood arrayed, +And hurled upon the foe a shower +Of mountain peaks and trees in flower. +Still on his limbs their missiles rained: +Unmoved, their blows he still sustained, +And seemed unconscious of the stroke +When rocks against his body broke. +Fierce as the flame when woods are dry +He charged with fury in his eye. +Like trees consumed with fervent heat +They fell beneath the giant's feet. +Some o'er the ground, dyed red with gore, +Fled wild with terror to the shore, +And, deeming that all hope was lost, +Ran to the bridge they erst had crossed. +Some clomb the trees their lives to save, +Some sought the mountain and the cave; +Some hid them in the bosky dell, +And there in deathlike slumber fell. + + When Angad saw the chieftains fly +He called them with a mighty cry: +"Once more, O Vánars, charge once more, +On to the battle as before. +In all her compass earth has not, +To hide you safe, one secret spot. +What! leave your arms? each nobler dame +Will scorn her consort for the shame. +This blot upon your names efface, +And keep your valour from disgrace. +Stay, chieftains; wherefore will ye run, +A band of warriors scared by one?" + + Scarce would they hear: they would not stay, +And basely spoke in wild dismay: +"Have we not fought, and fought in vain +Have we not seen our mightiest slain? +The giant's matchless force we fear, +And fly because our lives are dear." +But Báli's son with gentle art +Dispelled their dread and cheered each heart. +They turned and formed and waited still +Obedient to the prince's will. + + + + +Canto LXVII. Kumbhakarna's Death. + + +Thus from their flight the Vánars turned, +And every heart for battle burned, +Determined on the spot to die +Or gain a warrior's meed on high. +Again the Vánars stooped to seize +Their weapons, rocks and fallen trees; +Again the deadly fight began, +And fiercely at the giant ran. +Unmoved the monster kept his place: +He raised on high his awful mace, +Whirled the huge weapon round his head +And laid the foremost Vánars dead. +Eight thousand fell bedewed with gore, +Then sank and died seven hundred more. +Then thirty, twenty, ten, or eight +At each fierce onset met their fate, +And fast the fallen were devoured +Like snakes by Garud's beak o'erpowered. +Then Dwivid from the Vánar van, +Armed with an uptorn mountain, ran, +Like a huge cloud when fierce winds blow, +And charged amain the mountain foe. +With wondrous force the hill he threw: +O'er Kumbhakarna's head it flew, +And falling on his host afar +Crushed many a giant, steed, and car. +Rocks, trees, by fierce Hanúmán sped, +Rained fast on Kumbhakarna's head. +Whose spear each deadlier missile stopped, +And harmless on the plain it dropped. +Then with his furious eyes aglow +The giant rushed upon the foe, +Where, with a woody hill upheaved, +Hanúmán's might his charge received. +Through his vast frame the giant felt +The angry blow Hanúmán dealt. +He reeled a moment, sore distressed, +Then smote the Vánar on the breast, +As when the War-God's furious stroke +Through Krauncha's hill a passage broke.(977) +Fierce was the blow, and deep and wide +The rent: with crimson torrents dyed, +Hanúmán, maddened by the pain, +Roared like a cloud that brings the rain, +And from each Rákshas throat rang out +Loud clamour and exultant shout. +Then Níla hurled with mustered might +The fragment of a mountain height; +Nor would the rock the foe have missed, +But Kumbhakarna raised his fist +And smote so fiercely that the mass +Fell crushed to powder on the grass. +Five chieftains of the Vánar race(978) +Charged Kumbhakarna face to face, +And his huge frame they wildly beat +With rocks and trees and hands and feet. +Round Rishabh first the giant wound +His arms and hurled him to the ground, +Where speechless, senseless, wounded sore, +He lay his face besmeared with gore. +Then Níla with his fist he slew, +And Sarabh with his knee o'erthrew, +Nor could Gaváksha's strength withstand +The force of his terrific hand. +At Gandhamádan's eager call +Rushed thousands to avenge their fall, +Nor ceased those Vánars to assail +With knee and fist and tooth and nail. +Around his foes the giant threw +His mighty arms, and nearer drew +The captives subject to his will: +Then snatched them up and ate his fill. +There was no respite then, no pause: +Fast gaped and closed his hell-like jaws: +Yet, prisoned in that gloomy cave, +Some Vánars still their lives could save: +Some through his nostrils found a way, +Some through his ears resought the day. +Like Indra with his thunder, like +The God of Death in act to strike, +The giant seized his ponderous spear, +And charged the foe in swift career. +Before his might the Vánars fell, +Nor could their hosts his charge repel. +Then trembling, nor ashamed to run, +They turned and fled to Raghu's son. + + When Báli's warrior son(979) beheld +Their flight, his heart with fury swelled. +He rushed, with his terrific shout, +To meet the foe and stay the rout. +He came, he hurled a mountain peak, +And smote the giant on the cheek. +His ponderous spear the giant threw: +Fierce was the cast, the aim was true; +But Angad, trained in war and tried, +Saw ere it came, and leapt aside. +Then with his open hand he smote +The giant on the chest and throat. +That blow the giant scarce sustained; +But sense and strength were soon regained. +With force which nothing might resist +He caught the Vánar by the wrist, +Whirled him, as if in pastime, round, +And dashed him senseless on the ground. +There low on earth his foe lay crushed: +At King Sugríva next he rushed, +Who, waiting for the charge, stood still, +And heaved on high a shattered hill, +He looked on Kumbhakarna dyed +With streams of blood, and fiercely cried: +"Great glory has thine arm achieved, +And thousands of their lives bereaved. +Now leave a while thy meaner foes, +And brook the hill Sugríva throws." + + He spoke, and hurled the mass he held: +The giant's chest the stroke repelled, +Then on the Vánars fell despair, +And Rákshas clamour filled the air. +The giant raised his arm, and fast +Came the tremendous(980) spear he cast. +Hanúmán caught it as it flew, +And knapped it on his knee in two. +The giant saw the broken spear: +His clouded eye confessed his fear; +Yet at Sugríva's head he sent +A peak from Lanká's mountain rent. +The rushing mass no might could stay: +Sugríva fell and senseless lay. +The giant stooped his foe to seize, +And bore him thence, as bears the breeze +A cloud in autumn through the sky. +He heard the sad Immortals sigh, +And shouts of triumph long and loud +Went up from all the Rákshas crowd. +Through Lanká's gate the giant passed +Holding his struggling captive fast, +While from each terrace, house, and tower +Fell on his haughty head a shower +Of fragrant scent and flowery rain, +Blossoms and leaves and scattered grain.(981) + + By slow degrees the Vánars' lord +Felt life and sense and strength restored. +He heard the giants' joyful boast: +He thought upon his Vánar host. +His teeth and feet he fiercely plied, +And bit and rent the giant's side, +Who, mad with pain and smeared with gore, +Hurled to the ground the load he bore. +Regardless of a storm of blows +Swift to the sky the Vánar rose, +Then lightly like a flying ball +High overleapt the city wall, +And joyous for deliverance won +Regained the side of Raghu's son. +And Kumbhakarna, mad with hate +And fury, sallied from the gate, +The carnage of the foe renewed +And filled his maw with gory food. +Slaying, with headlong frenzy blind, +Both Vánar foes and giant kind. + + Nor would Sumitrá's valiant son(982) +The might of Kumbhakarna shun, +Who through his harness felt the sting +Of keen shafts loosened from the string. +His heart confessed the warrior's power, +And, bleeding from the ceaseless shower +That smote him on the chest and side, +With words like these the giant cried: +"Well fought, well fought, Sumitrá's son; +Eternal glory hast thou won, +For thou in desperate fight hast met +The victor never conquered yet, +Whom, borne on huge Airávat's back, +E'en Indra trembles to attack. +Go, son of Queen Sumitrá, go: +Thy valour and thy strength I know. +Now all my hope and earnest will +Is Ráma in the fight to kill. +Let him beneath my weapons fall, +And I will meet and conquer all." + + The chieftain, of Sumitrá born, +Made answer as he laughed in scorn: +"Yea, thou hast won a victor's fame +From trembling Gods and Indra's shame. +There waits thee now a mightier foe +Whose prowess thou hast yet to know. +There, famous in a hundred lands, +Ráma the son of Raghu stands." + + Straight at the king the giant sped, +And earth was shaken at his tread. +His bow the hero grasped and strained, +And deadly shafts in torrents rained. +As Kumbhakarna felt each stroke +From his huge mouth burst fire and smoke; +His hands were loosed in mortal pain +And dropped his weapons on the plain. +Though reft of spear and sword and mace +No terror changed his haughty face. +With heavy hands he rained his blows +And smote to death a thousand foes. +Where'er the furious monster strode +While down his limbs the red blood flowed +Like torrents down a mountain's side, +Vánars and bears and giants died. +High o'er his head a rock he swung, +And the huge mass at Ráma flung. +But Ráma's arrows bright as flame +Shattered the mountain as it came. +Then Raghu's son, his eyes aglow +With burning anger, charged the foe, +And as his bow he strained and tried +With fearful clang the cord replied. +Wroth at the bowstring's threatening clang +To meet his foe the giant sprang. +High towering with enormous frame +Huge as a wood-crowned hill he came. +But Ráma firm and self-possessed +In words like these the foe addressed: +"Draw near, O Rákshas lord, draw near, +Nor turn thee from the fight in fear. +Thou meetest Ráma face to face, +Destroyer of the giant race. +Come, fight, and thou shalt feel this hour, +Laid low in death, thy conqueror's power." + + He ceased: and mad with wrath and pride +The giant champion thus replied: +"Come thou to me and thou shalt find +A foeman of a different kind. +No Khara, no Virádha,--thou +Hast met a mightier warrior now. +The strength of Kumbhakarna fear, +And dread the iron mace I rear +This mace in days of yore subdued +The Gods and Dánav multitude. +Prove, lion of Ikshváku's line, +Thy power upon these limbs of mine. +Then, after trial, shalt thou bleed, +And with thy flesh my hunger feed." + + He ceased: and Ráma, undismayed, +Upon his cord those arrows laid +Which pierced the stately Sál trees through, +And Báli king of Vánars slew. +They flew, they smote, but smote in vain +Those mighty limbs that felt no pain. +Then Ráma sent with surest aim +The dart that bore the Wind-God's name. +The missile from the giant tore +His huge arm and the mace it bore, +Which crushed the Vánars where it fell: +And dire was Kumbhakarna's yell. +The giant seized a tree, and then +Rushed madly at the lord of men. +Another dart, Lord Indra's own, +To meet his furious onset thrown, +His left arm from the shoulder lopped, +And like a mountain peak it dropped. +Then from the bow of Ráma sped +Two arrows, each with crescent head; +And, winged with might which naught could stay, +They cut the giant's legs away. +They fell, and awful was the sound +As those vast columns shook the ground; +And sky and sea and hill and cave +In echoing roars their answer gave. +Then from his side the hero drew +A dart that like the tempest flew-- +No deadlier shaft has ever flown +Than that which Indra called his own-- +Nor could the giant's mail-armed neck +The fury of the missile check. +Through skin and flesh and bone it smote +And rent asunder head and throat. +Down with the sound of thunder rolled +The head adorned with rings of gold, +And crushed to pieces in its fall +A gate, a tower, a massive wall. +Hurled to the sea the body fell: +Terrific was the ocean's swell, +Nor could swift fin and nimble leap +Save the crushed creatures of the deep. + + Thus he who plagued in impious pride +The Gods and Bráhmans fought and died. +Glad were the hosts of heaven, and long +The air re-echoed with their song.(983) + + + + +Canto LXVIII. Rávan's Lament. + + +They ran to Rávan in his hall +And told him of his brother's fall: +"Fierce as the God who rules the dead, +Upon the routed foe he fed; +And, victor for a while, at length +Fell slain by Ráma's matchless strength. +Now like a mighty hill in size +His mangled trunk extended lies, +And where he fell, a bleeding mass, +Blocks Lanká's gate that none may pass." +The monarch heard: his strength gave way; +And fainting on the ground he lay. +Grieved at the giants' mournful tale, +Long, shrill was Atikáya's wail; +And Trisirás in sorrow bowed +His triple head, and wept aloud. +Mahodar, Mahápársva shed +Hot tears and mourned their brother dead. +At length, his wandering sense restored, +In loud lament cried Lanká's lord: +"Ah chief, for might and valour famed, +Whose arm the haughty foeman tamed, +Forsaking me, thy friends and all, +Why hast thou fled to Yáma's hall? +Why hast thou fled to taste no more +The slaughtered foeman's flesh and gore? +Ah me, my life is done to-day: +My better arm is lopped away. +Whereon in danger I relied, +And, fearless, Gods and fiends defied. +How could a shaft from Ráma's bow +The matchless giant overthrow, +Whose iron frame so strong of yore +The crushing bolt of Indra bore? +This day the Gods and sages meet +And triumph at their foe's defeat. +This day the Vánar chiefs will boast +And, with new ardour fired, their host +In fiercer onset will assail +Our city, and the ramparts scale. +What care I for a monarch's name, +For empire, or the Maithil dame? +What joy can power and riches give, +Or life that I should care to live, +Unless this arm in mortal fray +The slayer of my brother slay? +For me, of Kumbhakarna reft, +Death is the only solace left; +And I will seek, o'erwhelmed with woes, +The realm to which my brother goes. +Ah me ill-minded, not to take +His counsel when Vibhishan spake +When he this evil day foretold +My foolish heart was overbold: +I drove my sage adviser hence, +And reap the fruits of mine offence." + + + + +Canto LXIX. Narántak's Death. + + +Pierced to the soul by sorrow's sting +Thus wailed the evil-hearted king. +Then Trisirás stood forth and cried: +"Yea, father, he has fought and died, +Our bravest: and the loss is sore: +But rouse thee, and lament no more. +Hast thou not still thy coat of mail, +Thy bow and shafts which never fail? +A thousand asses draw thy car +Which roars like thunder heard afar. +Thy valour and thy warrior skill, +Thy God-given strength, are left thee still. +Unarmed, thy matchless might subdued +The Gods and Dánav multitude. +Armed with thy glorious weapons, how +Shall Raghu's son oppose thee now? +Or, sire, within thy palace stay; +And I myself will sweep away +Thy foes, like Garud when he makes +A banquet of the writhing snakes. +Soon Raghu's son shall press the plain, +As Narak(984) fell by Vishnu slain, +Or Sambar(985) in rebellious pride +Who met the King of Gods(986) and died." + + The monarch heard: his courage grew, +And life and spirit came anew. +Devántak and Narántak heard, +And their fierce souls with joy were stirred; +And Atikáya(987) burned to fight, +And heard the summons with delight; +While from the rest loud rang the cry, +"I too will fight," "and I," "and I." + + The joyous king his sons embraced, +With gold and chains and jewels graced, +And sent them forth with stirring speech +Of benison and praise to each. +Forth from the gate the princes sped +And ranged for war the troops they led. +The Vánar legions charged anew, +And trees and rocks for missiles flew. +They saw Narántak's mighty form +Borne on a steed that mocked the storm. +To check his charge in vain they strove: +Straight through their host his way he clove, +As springs a dolphin through the tide: +And countless Vánars fell and died, +And mangled limbs and corpses lay +To mark the chief's ensanguined way, +Sugríva saw them fall or fly +When fierce Narántak's steed was nigh, +And marked the giant where he sped +O'er heaps of dying or of dead. +He bade the royal Angad face +That bravest chief of giant race. +As springs the sun from clouds dispersed, +So Angad from the Vánars burst. +No weapon for the fight he bore +Save nails and teeth, and sought no more. +"Leave, giant chieftain," thus he spoke, +"Leave foes unworthy of thy stroke, +And bend against a nobler heart +The terrors of thy deadly dart." + + Narántak heard the words he spake: +Fast breathing, like an angry snake, +With bloody teeth his lips he pressed +And hurled his dart at Angad's breast. +True was the aim and fierce the stroke, +Yet on his breast the missile broke. +Then Angad at the giant flew, +And with a blow his courser slew: +The fierce hand crushed through flesh and bone, +And steed and rider fell o'erthrown. +Narántak's eyes with fury blazed: +His heavy hand on high he raised +And struck in savage wrath the head +Of Báli's son, who reeled and bled, +Fainted a moment and no more: +Then stronger, fiercer than before +Smote with that fist which naught could stay, +And crushed to death the giant lay. + + + + +Canto LXX. The Death Of Trisirás. + + +Then raged the Rákshas chiefs, and all +Burned to avenge Narántak's fall. +Devántak raised his club on high +And rushed at Angad with a cry. +Behind came Trisirás, and near +Mahodar charged with levelled spear. +There Angad stood to fight with three: +High o'er his head he waved a tree, +And at Devántak, swift and true +As Indra's flaming bolt, it flew. +But, cut by giant shafts in twain, +With minished force it flew in vain. +A shower of trees and blocks of stone +From Angad's hand was fiercely thrown; +But well his club Devántak plied +And turned each rock and tree aside. +Nor yet, by three such foes assailed, +The heart of Angad sank or quailed. +He slew the mighty beast that bore +Mahodar: from his head he tore +A bleeding tusk, and blow on blow +Fell fiercely on his Rákshas foe. +The giant reeled, but strength regained, +And furious strokes on Angad rained, +Who, wounded by the storm of blows, +Sank on his knees, but swiftly rose. +Then Trisirás, as up he sprang, +Drew his great bow with awful clang, +And fixed three arrows from his sheaf +Full in the forehead of the chief. +Hanúmán saw, nor long delayed +To speed with Níla to his aid, +Who at the three-faced giant sent +A peak from Lanká's mountain rent. +But Trisirás with certain aim +Shot rapid arrows as it came: +And shivered by their force it broke +And fell to earth with flash and smoke. +Then as the Wind-God's son came nigh, +Devántak reared his mace on high. +Hanúmán smote him on the head +And stretched the monstrous giant dead. +Fierce Trisirás with fury strained +His bow, and showers of arrows rained +That smote on Níla's side and chest: +He sank a moment, sore distressed; +But quickly gathered strength to seize +A mountain with its crown of trees. +Crushed by the hill, distained with gore, +Mahodar fell to rise no more. + + Then Trisirás raised high his spear +Which chilled the trembling foe with fear +And, like a flashing meteor through +The air at Hanúmán it flew. +The Vánar shunned the threatened stroke, +And with strong hands the weapon broke. +The giant drew his glittering blade: +Dire was the wound the weapon made +Deep in the Vánar's ample chest, +Who, for a moment sore oppressed, +Raised his broad hand, regaining might, +And struck the rover of the night. +Fierce was the blow: with one wild yell +Low on the earth the monster fell. +Hanúmán seized his fallen sword +Which served no more its senseless lord, +And from the monster triple-necked +Smote his huge heads with crowns bedecked. +Then Mahápársva burned with ire; +Fierce flashed his eyes with vengeful fire. +A moment on the dead he gazed, +Then his black mace aloft was raised, +And down the mass of iron came +That struck and shook the Vánar's frame. +Hanúmán's chest was wellnigh crushed, +And from his mouth red torrents gushed: +Yet served one instant to restore +His spirit: from the foe he tore +His awful mace, and smote, and laid +The giant in the dust dismayed. +Crushed were his jaws and teeth and eyes: +Breathless and still he lay as lies +A summit from a mountain rent +By him who rules the firmament. + + + + +Canto LXXI. Atikáya's Death. + + +But Atikáya's wrath grew high +To see his noblest kinsmen die. +He, fiercest of the giant race, +Presuming still on Brahmá's grace; +Proud tamer of the Immortals' pride, +Whose power and might with Indra's vied, +For blood and vengeful carnage burned, +And on the foe his fury turned. +High on a car that flashed and glowed +Bright as a thousand suns he rode. +Around his princely brows was set +A rich bejewelled coronet. +Gold pendants in his ears he wore; +He strained and tried the bow he bore, +And ever, as a shaft he aimed, +His name and royal race proclaimed. +Scarce might the Vánars brook to hear +His clanging bow and voice of fear: +To Raghu's elder son they fled, +Their sure defence in woe and dread. +Then Ráma bent his eyes afar +And saw the giant in his car +Fast following the flying crowd +And roaring like a rainy cloud. +He, with the lust of battle fired, +Turned to Vibhishan and inquired: +"Say, who is this, of mountain size, +This archer with the lion eyes? +His car, which strikes our host with awe, +A thousand eager coursers draw. +Surrounded by the flashing spears +Which line his car, the chief appears +Like some huge cloud when lightnings play +About it on a stormy day; +And the great bow he joys to hold +Whose bended back is bright with gold, +As Indra's bow makes glad the skies, +That best of chariots glorifies. +O see the sunlike splendour flung +From the great flag above him hung, +Where, blazoned with refulgent lines, +Ráhu(988) the dreadful Dragon shines. +Full thirty quivers near his side, +His car with shafts is well supplied: +And flashing like the light of stars +Gleam his two mighty scimitars. +Say, best of giants, who is he +Before whose face the Vánars flee?" + + Thus Ráma spake. Vibhishan eyed +The giants' chief, and thus replied: +"This Ráma, this is Rávan's son: +High fame his youthful might has won. +He, best of warriors, bows his ear +The wisdom of the wise to hear. +Supreme is he mid those who know +The mastery of sword and bow. +Unrivalled in the bold attack +On elephant's or courser's back, +He knows, beside, each subtler art, +To win the foe, to bribe, or part. +On him the giant hosts rely, +And fear no ill when he is nigh. +This peerless chieftain bears the name +Of Atikáya huge of frame, +Whom Dhanyamáliní of yore +To Rávan lord of Lanká bore." + + Roused by his bow-string's awful clang, +To meet their foes the Vánars sprang. +Armed with tall trees from Lanká's wood, +And rocks and mountain peaks, they stood. +The giant's arrows, gold-bedecked, +The storm of hurtling missiles checked; +And ever on his foemen poured +Fierce tempest from his clanging cord; +Nor could the Vánar chiefs sustain +His shafts' intolerable rain. +They fled: the victor gained the place +Where stood the lord of Raghu's race, +And cried with voice of thunder: "Lo, +Borne on my car, with shaft and bow, +I, champion of the giants, scorn +To fight with weaklings humbly born. +Come forth your bravest, if he dare, +And fight with one who will not spare." + + Forth sprang Sumitrá's noble child,(989) +And strained his ready bow, and smiled; +And giants trembled as the clang +Through heaven and earth reëchoing rang. +The giant to his string applied +A pointed shaft, and proudly cried; +"Turn, turn, Sumitrá's son and fly, +For terrible as Death am I. +Fly, nor that youthful form oppose, +Untrained in war, to warriors' blows. +What! wilt thou waste thy childish breath +And wake the dormant fire of death? +Cast down, rash boy, that useless bow: +Preserve thy life, uninjured go." + + He ceased: and stirred by wrath & pride +Sumitrá's noble son replied: +"By warlike deed, not words alone, +The valour of the brave is shown. +Cease with vain boasts my scorn to move, +And with thine arm thy prowess prove. +Borne on thy car, with sword and bow, +With all thine arms, thy valour show. +Fight, and my deadly shafts this day +Low in the dust thy head shall lay, +And, rushing fast in ceaseless flood, +Shall rend thy flesh and drink thy blood." + + His giant foe no answer made, +But on his string an arrow laid. +He raised his arm, the cord he drew, +At Lakshman's breast the arrow flew. +Sumitrá's son, his foemen's dread, +Shot a fleet shaft with crescent head, +Which cleft that arrow pointed well, +And harmless to the earth it fell. +A shower of shafts from Lakshman's bow +Fell fast and furious on the foe +Who quailed not as the missiles smote +With idle force his iron coat. +Then came the friendly Wind-God near, +And whispered thus in Lakshman's ear: +"Such shafts as these in vain assail +Thy foe's impenetrable mail. +A more tremendous missile try, +Or never may the giant die. +Employ the mighty spell, and aim +The weapon known by Brahmá's name." +He ceased; Sumitrá's son obeyed: +On his great bow the shaft was laid, +And with a roar like thunder, true +As Indra's flashing bolt, it flew. +The giant poured his shafts like rain +To check its course, but all in vain. +With spear and mace and sword he tried +To turn the fiery dart aside. +Winged with a force which naught could check, +It smote the monster in the neck, +And, sundered from his shoulders, rolled +To earth his head and helm of gold. + + + + +Canto LXXII. Rávan's Speech. + + +The giants bent, in rage and grief, +Their eyes upon the fallen chief: +Then flying wild with fear and pale +To Rávan bore the mournful tale. +He heard how Atikáya died, +Then turned him to his lords, and cried: +"Where are they now--my bravest--where, +Wise to consult and prompt to dare? +Where is Dhúmráksha, skilled to wield +All weapons in the battle field? +Akampan, and Prahasta's might, +And Kumbhakarna bold in fight? +These, these and many a Rákshas more, +Each master of the arms he bore, +Who every foe in fight o'erthrew, +The victors none could e'er subdue, +Have perished by the might of one, +The vengeful arm of Raghu's son. +In vain I cast mine eyes around, +No match for Ráma here is found, +No chief to stand before that bow +Whose deadly shafts have caused our woe. +Now, warriors, to your stations hence; +Provide ye for the wall's defence, +And be the Asoka garden, where +The lady lies, your special care. +Be every lane and passage barred, +Set at each gate a chosen guard. +And with your troops, where danger calls, +Be ready to defend the walls. +Each movement of the Vánars mark; +Observe them when the skies grow dark; +Be ready in the dead of night, +And ere the morning bring the light. +Taught by our loss we may not scorn +These legions of the forest-born." + + He ceased: the Rákshas lords obeyed; +Each at his post his troops arrayed: +And, torn with pangs that pierced him through +The monarch from the hall withdrew. + + + + +Canto LXXIII. Indrajít's Victory. + + +But Indrajít the fierce and bold +With words like these his sire consoled: +"Dismiss, O King, thy grief and dread, +And be not thus disquieted. +Against this numbing sorrow strive, +For Indrajít is yet alive; +And none in battle may withstand +The fury of his strong right hand. +This day, O sire, thine eyes shall see +The sons of Raghu slain by me." + + He ceased: he bade the king farewell: +Clear, mid the roar of drum and shell, +The clash of sword and harness rang +As to his car the warrior sprang. +Close followed by his Rákshas train +Through Lanká's gate he reached the plain. +Then down he leapt, and bade a band +Of giants by the chariot stand: +Then with due rites, as rules require, +Did worship to the Lord of Fire. +The sacred oil, as texts ordain, +With wreaths of scented flowers and grain, +Within the flame in order due, +That mightiest of the giants threw. +There on the ground were spear and blade, +And arrowy leaves and fuel laid; +An iron ladle deep and wide, +And robes with sanguine colours dyed. +Beside him stood a sable goat: +The giant seized it by the throat, +And straight from the consuming flame +Auspicious signs of victory came. +For swiftly, curling to the right, +The fire leapt up with willing light +Undimmed by smoky cloud, and, red +Like gold, upon the offering fed. +They brought him, while the flame yet glowed, +The dart by Brahmá's grace bestowed, +And all the arms he wielded well +Were charmed with text and holy spell. + + Then fiercer for the fight he burned, +And at the foe his chariot turned, +While all his followers lifting high +Their maces charged with furious cry. +Dire, yet more dire the battle grew, +As rocks and trees and arrows flew. +The giant shot his shafts like rain, +And Vánars fell in myriads slain, +Sugríva, Angad, Níla felt +The wounds his hurtling arrows dealt. +His shafts the blood of Gaya drank; +Hanúmán reeled and Mainda sank. +Bright as the glances of the sun +Came the swift darts they could not shun. +Caught in the arrowy nets he wove, +In vain the sons of Raghu strove; +And Ráma, by the darts oppressed, +His brother chieftain thus addressed: +"See, first this giant warrior sends +Destruction, mid our Vánar friends, +And now his arrows thick and fast +Their binding net around us cast. +To Brahmá's grace the chieftain owes +The matchless power and might he shows; +And mortal strength in vain contends +With him whom Brahmá's self befriends. +Then let us still with dauntless hearts +Endure this storm of pelting darts. +Soon must we sink bereaved of sense; +And then the victor, hurrying hence, +Will seek his father in his hall +And tell him of his foemen's fall." +He ceased: o'erpowered by shaft and spell +The sons of Raghu reeled and fell. +The Rákshas on their bodies gazed; +And, mid the shouts his followers raised, +Sped back to Lanká to relate +In Rávan's hall the princes' fate. + + + + +Canto LXXIV. The Medicinal Herbs. + + +The shades of falling night concealed +The carnage of the battle field, +Which, bearing each a blazing brand, +Hanúmán and Vibhishan scanned, +Moving with slow and anxious tread +Among the dying and the dead. +Sad was the scene of slaughter shown +Where'er the torches' light was thrown. +Here mountain forms of Vánars lay +Whose heads and limbs were lopped away, +Arms, legs and fingers strewed the ground, +And severed heads lay thick around. +The earth was moist with sanguine streams, +And sighs were heard and groans and screams. +There lay Sugríva still and cold, +There Angad, once so brave and bold. +There Jámbaván his might reposed, +There Vegadarsí's eyes were closed; +There in the dust was Nala's pride, +And Dwivid lay by Mainda's side. +Where'er they looked the ensanguined plain +Was strewn with myriads of the slain;(990) +They sought with keenly searching eyes +King Jámbaván supremely wise. +His strength had failed by slow decay, +And pierced with countless shafts he lay. +They saw, and hastened to his side, +And thus the sage Vibhishan cried: +"Thee, monarch of the bears, we seek: +Speak if thou yet art living, speak." + + Slow came the aged chief's reply; +Scarce could he say with many a sigh: +"Torn with keen shafts which pierce each limb, +My strength is gone, my sight is dim; +Yet though I scarce can raise mine eyes, +Thy voice, O chief, I recognize. +O, while these ears can hear thee, say, +Has Hanúmán survived this day?" + + "Why ask," Vibhishan cried, "for one +Of lower rank, the Wind-God's son? +Hast thou forgotten, first in place, +The princely chief of Raghu's race? +Can King Sugríva claim no care, +And Angad, his imperial heir?" + + "Yea, dearer than my noblest friends +Is he on whom our hope depends. +For if the Wind-God's son survive, +All we though dead are yet alive. +But if his precious life be fled +Though living still we are but dead: +He is our hope and sure relief." +Thus slowly spoke the aged chief: +Then to his side Hanúmán came, +And with low reverence named his name. +Cheered by the face he longed to view +The wounded chieftain lived anew. +"Go forth," he cried, "O strong and brave, +And in their woe the Vánars save. +No might but thine, supremely great, +May help us in our lost estate. +The trembling bears and Vánars cheer, +Calm their sad hearts, dispel their fear. +Save Raghu's noble sons, and heal +The deep wounds of the winged steel. +High o'er the waters of the sea +To far Himálaya's summits flee. +Kailása there wilt thou behold, +And Rishabh, with his peaks of gold. +Between them see a mountain rise +Whose splendour will enchant thine eyes; +His sides are clothed above, below, +With all the rarest herbs that grow. +Upon that mountain's lofty crest +Four plants, of sovereign powers possessed, +Spring from the soil, and flashing there +Shed radiance through the neighbouring air. +One draws the shaft: one brings again +The breath of life to warm the slain; +One heals each wound; one gives anew +To faded cheeks their wonted hue. +Fly, chieftain, to that mountain's brow +And bring those herbs to save us now." + + Hanúmán heard, and springing through +The air like Vishnu's discus(991) flew. +The sea was passed: beneath him, gay +With bright-winged birds, the mountains lay, +And brook and lake and lonely glen, +And fertile lands with toiling men. +On, on he sped: before him rose +The mansion of perennial snows. +There soared the glorious peaks as fair +As white clouds in the summer air. +Here, bursting from the leafy shade, +In thunder leapt the wild cascade. +He looked on many a pure retreat +Dear to the Gods' and sages' feet: +The spot where Brahmá dwells apart, +The place whence Rudra launched his dart;(992) +Vishnu's high seat and Indra's home, +And slopes where Yáma's servants roam. +There was Kuvera's bright abode; +There Brahmá's mystic weapon glowed. +There was the noble hill whereon +Those herbs with wondrous lustre shone, +And, ravished by the glorious sight, +Hanúmán rested on the height. +He, moving down the glittering peak, +The healing herbs began to seek: +But, when he thought to seize the prize, +They hid them from his eager eyes. +Then to the hill in wrath he spake: +"Mine arm this day shall vengeance take, +If thou wilt feel no pity, none, +In this great need of Raghu's son." +He ceased: his mighty arms he bent +And from the trembling mountain rent +His huge head with the life it bore, +Snakes, elephants, and golden ore. +O'er hill and plain and watery waste +His rapid way again he traced. +And mid the wondering Vánars laid +His burthen through the air conveyed, +The wondrous herbs' delightful scent +To all the host new vigour lent. +Free from all darts and wounds and pain +The sons of Raghu lived again, +And dead and dying Vánars healed +Rose vigorous from the battle field. + + + + +Canto LXXV. The Night Attack. + + +Sugríva spake in words like these: +"Now, Vánar lords, the occasion seize. +For now, of sons and brothers reft, +To Rávan little hope is left: +And if our host his gates assail +His weak defence will surely fail." + + At dead of night the Vánar bands +Rushed on with torches in their hands. +Scared by the coming of the host +Each giant warder left his post. +Where'er the Vánar legions came +Their way was marked with hostile flame +That spread in fury to devour +Palace and temple, gate and tower. +Down came the walls and porches, down +Came stately piles that graced the town. +In many a house the fire was red, +On sandal wood and aloe fed. +And scorching flames in billows rolled +O'er diamonds and pearls and gold. +On cloth of wool, on silk brocade, +On linen robes their fury preyed. +Wheels, poles and yokes were burned, and all +The coursers' harness in the stall; +And elephants' and chariots' gear, +The sword, the buckler, and the spear. +Scared by the crash of falling beams, +Mid lamentations, groans and screams, +Forth rushed the giants through the flames +And with them dragged bewildered dames, +Each, with o'erwhelming terror wild, +Still clasping to her breast a child. +The swift fire from a cloud of smoke +Through many a gilded lattice broke, +And, melting pearl and coral, rose +O'er balconies and porticoes. +The startled crane and peacock screamed +As with strange light the courtyard gleamed, +And fierce unusual glare was thrown +On shrinking wood and heated stone. +From burning stall and stable freed +Rushed frantic elephant and steed, +And goaded by the driving blaze +Fled wildly through the crowded ways. +As earth with fervent heat will glow +When comes her final overthrow; +From gate to gate, from court to spire +Proud Lanká was one blaze of fire, +And every headland, rock and bay +Shone bright a hundred leagues away. +Forth, blinded by the heat and flame +Ran countless giants huge of frame; +And, mustering for fierce attack, +The Vánars charged to drive them back, +While shout and scream and roar and cry +Reëchoed through the earth and sky. +There Ráma stood with strength renewed, +And ever, as the foe he viewed, +Shaking the distant regions rang +His mighty bow's tremendous clang. +Then through the gates Nikumbha hied, +And Kumbha by his brother's side, +Sent forth--the bravest and the best-- +To battle by the king's behest. +There fought the chiefs in open field, +And Angad fell and Dwivid reeled. +Sugríva saw: by rage impelled +He crushed the bow which Kumbha held. +About his foe Sugríva wound +His arms, and, heaving from the ground +The giant hurled him o'er the bank; +And deep beneath the sea he sank. +Like mandar hill with furious swell +Up leapt the waters where he fell. +Again he rose: he sprang to land +And raised on high his threatening hand: +Full on Sugríva's chest it came +And shook the Vánar's massy frame, +But on the wounded bone he broke +His wrist--so furious was the stroke. +With force that naught could stay or check, +Sugríva smote him neath the neck. +The fierce blow crashed through flesh and bone +And Kumbha lay in death o'erthrown. +Nikumbha saw his brother die, +And red with fury flashed his eye. +He dashed with mighty sway and swing +His axe against the Vánar king; +But shattered on that living rock +It split in fragments at the shock. +Sugríva, rising to the blow, +Raised his huge hand and smote his foe. +And in the dust the giant lay +Gasping in blood his soul away. + +[I have briefly despatched Kumbha and Nikumbha, each of whom has in the +text a long Canto to himself. When they fall Rávan sends forth Makaráksha +or Crocodile-Eye, the son of Khara who was slain by Ráma in the forest +before the abduction of Sítá. The account of his sallying forth, of his +battle with Ráma and of his death by the fiery dart of that hero occupies +two Cantos which I entirely pass over. Indrajít again comes forth and, +rendered invisible by his magic art slays countless Vánars with his +unerring arrows. He retires to the city and returns bearing in his chariot +an effigy of Sítá, the work of magic, weeping and wailing by his side. He +grasps the lovely image by the hair and cuts it down with his scimitar in +the sight of the enraged Hanúmán and all the Vánar host. At last after +much fighting of the usual kind Indrajít's chariot is broken in pieces, +his charioteer is slain, and he himself falls by Lakshman's hand, to the +inexpressible delight of the high-souled saints, the nymphs of heaven and +other celestial beings.] + + + + +Canto XCIII. Rávan's Lament. + + +They sought the king, a mournful train, +And cried, "My lord, thy son is slain. +By Lakshman's hand, before these eyes, +The warrior fell no more to rise. +No time is this for vain regret: +Thy hero son a hero met; +And he whose might in battle pressed +Lord Indra and the Gods confessed, +Whose power was stranger to defeat, +Has gained in heaven a blissful seat." + + The monarch heard the mournful tale: +His heart was faint, his cheek was pale; +His fleeting sense at length regained, +In trembling tones he thus complained: +"Ah me, my son, my pride: the boast +And glory of the giant host. +Could Lakshman's puny might defeat +The foe whom Indra feared to meet? +Could not thy deadly arrows split +Proud Mandar's peaks, O Indrajít, +And the Destroyer's self destroy? +And wast thou conquered by a boy? +I will not weep: thy noble deed +Has blessed thee with immortal meed +Gained by each hero in the skies +Who fighting for his sovereign dies. +Now, fearless of all meaner foes, +The guardian Gods(993) will taste repose: +But earth to me, with hill and plain, +Is desolate, for thou art slain. +Ah, whither hast thou fled, and left +Thy mother, Lanká, me bereft; +Left pride and state and wives behind, +And lordship over all thy kind? +I fondly hoped thy hand should pay +Due honours on my dying day: +And couldst thou, O beloved, flee +And leave thy funeral rites to me? +Life has no comfort left me, none, +O Indrajít my son, my son." + + Thus wailed he broken by his woes: +But swift the thought of vengeance rose. +In awful wrath his teeth he gnashed, +And from his eyes red lightning flashed. +Hot from his mouth came fire and smoke, +As thus the king in fury spoke: + + "Through many a thousand years of yore +The penance and the pain I bore, +And by fierce torment well sustained +The highest grace of Brahmá gained, +His plighted word my life assured, +From Gods of heaven and fiends secured. +He armed my limbs with burnished mail +Whose lustre turns the sunbeams pale, +In battle proof gainst heavenly bands +With thunder in their threatening hands. +Armed in this mail myself will go +With Brahmá's gift my deadly bow, +And, cleaving through the foes my way, +The slayers of my son will slay." + + Then, by his grief to frenzy wrought, +The captive in the grove he sought. +Swift through the shady path he sped: +Earth trembled at his furious tread. +Fierce were his eyes: his monstrous hand +Held drawn for death his glittering brand. +There weeping stood the Maithil dame: +She shuddered as the giant came. +Near drew the rover of the night +And raised his sword in act to smite; +But, by his nobler heart impelled, +One Rákshas lord his arm withheld: +"Wilt thou, great Monarch," thus he cried, +"Wilt thou, to heavenly Gods allied, +Blot for all time thy glorious fame, +The slayer of a gentle dame? +What! shall a woman's blood be spilt +To stain thee with eternal guilt, +Thee deep in all the Veda's lore? +Far be the thought for evermore. +Ah look, and let her lovely face +This fury from thy bosom chase." + + He ceased: the prudent counsel pleased +The monarch, and his wrath appeased; +Then to his council hall in haste +The giant lord his steps retraced. + +[I omit two Cantos in the first of which Ráma with an enchanted Gandharva +weapon deals destruction among the Rákshases sent out by Rávan, and in the +second the Rákshas dames lament the slain and mourn over the madness of +Rávan.] + + + + +Canto XCVI. Rávan's Sally. + + +The groans and cries of dames who wailed +The ears of Lanká's lord assailed, +For from each house and home was sent +The voice of weeping and lament. +In troubled thought his head he bowed, +Then fiercely loosing on the crowd +Of nobles near his throne he broke +The silence, and in fury spoke: +"This day my deadly shafts shall fly, +And Raghu's sons shall surely die. +This day shall countless Vánars bleed +And dogs and kites and vultures feed. +Go, bid them swift my car prepare, +Bring the great bow I long to bear: +And let my host with sword and shield +And spear be ready for the field." + + From street to street the captains passed +And Rákshas warriors gathered fast. +With spear and sword to pierce and strike, +And axe and club and mace and pike. + +[I omit several weapons for which I cannot find distinctive names, and +among them the _Sataghní_ or _Centicide_, supposed by some to be a kind of +fire-arms or rocket, but described by a commentator on the Mahábhárata as +a stone or cylindrical piece of wood studded with iron spikes.] + +Then Rávan's warrior chariot(994) wrought +With gold and rich inlay was brought. +Mid tinkling bells and weapons' clang +The monarch on the chariot sprang, +Which, decked with gems of every hue, +Eight steeds of noble lineage drew. +Mid roars of drum and shell rang out +From countless throats a joyful shout. +As, girt with hosts in warlike pride, +Through Lanká's streets the tyrant hied. +Still, louder than the roar of drums, +Went up the cry "He comes, he comes, +Our ever conquering lord who trod +Beneath his feet both fiend and God." +On to the gate the warriors swept +Where Raghu's sons their station kept. +When Rávan's car the portal passed +The sun in heaven was overcast. +Earth rocked and reeled from side to side +And birds with boding voices cried. +Against the standard of the king +A vulture flapped his horrid wing. +Big gouts of blood before him dropped, +His trembling steeds in terror stopped. +The hue of death was on his cheek, +And scarce his flattering tongue could speak, +When, terrible with flash and flame, +Through murky air a meteor came. +Still by the hand of Death impelled +His onward way the giant held. +The Vánars in the field afar +Heard the loud thunder of his car. +And turned with warriors' fierce delight +To meet the giant in the fight. +He came: his clanging bow he drew +And myriads of the Vánars slew. +Some through the side and heart he cleft, +Some headless on the plain were left. +Some struggling groaned with mangled thighs, +Or broken arms or blinded eyes. + +[I omit Cantos XCVII, XCVIII, and XCIX, which describe in the usual way +three single combats between Sugríva and Angad on the Vánar side and +Virúpáksha, Mahodar, and Mahápársva on the side of the giants. The weapons +of the Vánars are trees and rocks; the giants fight with swords, axes, and +bows and arrows. The details are generally the same as those of preceding +duels. The giants fall, one in each Canto.] + + + + +Canto C. Rávan In The Field. + + +The plain with bleeding limbs was spread, +And heaps of dying and of dead. +His mighty bow still Ráma strained, +And shafts upon the giants rained. +Still Angad and Sugríva, wrought +To fury, for the Vánars fought. +Crushed with huge rocks through chest and side +Mahodar, Mahápársva died, +And Virúpáksha stained with gore +Dropped on the plain to rise no more. +When Rávan saw the three o'erthrown +He cried aloud in furious tone: +"Urge, urge the car, my charioteer, +The haughty Vánars' death is near. +This very day shall end our griefs +For leaguered town and slaughtered chiefs. +Ráma the tree whose lovely fruit +Is Sítá, shall this arm uproot,-- +Whose branches with protecting shade +Are Vánar lords who lend him aid." + + Thus cried the king: the welkin rang +As forth the eager coursers sprang, +And earth beneath the chariot shook +With flowery grove and hill and brook. +Fast rained his shafts: where'er he sped +The conquered Vánars fell or fled, +On rolled the car in swift career +Till Raghu's noble sons were near. +Then Ráma looked upon the foe +And strained and tried his sounding bow, +Till earth and all the region rang +Re-echoing to the awful clang. +His bow the younger chieftain bent, +And shaft on shaft at Rávan sent. +He shot: but Rávan little recked; +Each arrow with his own he checked, +And headless, baffled of its aim, +To earth the harmless missile came; +And Lakshman stayed his arm o'erpowered +By the thick darts the giant showered. +Fierce waxed the fight and fiercer yet, +For Rávan now and Ráma met, +And each on other poured amain +The tempest of his arrowy rain. +While all the sky above was dark +With missiles speeding to their mark +Like clouds, with flashing lightning twined +About them, hurried by the wind. +Not fiercer was the wondrous fight +When Vritra fell by Indra's might. +All arts of war each foeman knew, +And trained alike, his bowstring drew. +Red-eyed with fury Lanká's king +Pressed his huge fingers on the string, +And fixed in Ráma's brows a flight +Of arrows winged with matchless flight. +Still Raghu's son endured, and bore +That crown of shafts though wounded sore. +O'er a dire dart a spell he spoke +With mystic power to aid the stroke. +In vain upon the foe it smote +Rebounding from the steelproof coat. +The giant armed his bow anew, +And wondrous weapons hissed and flew, +Terrific, deadly, swift of flight, +Beaked like the vulture and the kite, +Or bearing heads of fearful make, +Of lion, tiger, wolf and snake.(995) +Then Ráma, troubled by the storm +Of flying darts in every form +Shot by an arm that naught could tire, +Launched at the foe his dart of fire, +Which, sacred to the Lord of Flame, +Burnt and consumed where'er it came. +And many a blazing shaft beside +The hero to his string applied. +With fiery course of dazzling hue +Swift to the mark each missile flew, +Some flashing like a shooting star, +Some as the tongues of lightning are; +One like a brilliant plant, one +In splendour like the morning sun. +Where'er the shafts of Ráma burned +The giant's darts were foiled and turned. +Far into space his weapons fled, +But as they flew struck thousands dead. + + + + +Canto CI. Lakshman's Fall. + + +When Rávan saw his darts repelled, +With double rage his bosom swelled. +He summoned, wroth but undismayed, +A mightier charm to lend its aid. +And, fierce as fire before the blast, +A storm of missiles thick and fast, +Spear, pike and javelin, mace and brand, +Came hurtling from the giant's hand. +But, mightier still, the arms employed +By Raghu's son their force destroyed, +And every dart fell dulled and spent +By powers the bards of heaven had lent. +With his huge mace Vibhishan slew +The steeds that Rávan's chariot drew. +Then Rávan hurled in deadly ire +A ponderous spear that flashed like fire: +But Ráma's arrows checked its way, +And harmless on the earth it lay, +The giant seized a mightier spear, +Which Death himself would shun with fear. +Vibhishan with the stroke had died, +But Lakshman's hand his bowstring plied, +And flying arrows thick as hail +Smote fiercely on the giant's mail. +Then Rávan turned his aim aside, +On Lakshman looked and fiercely cried: +"Thou, thou again my wrath hast braved, +And from his death Vibhishan saved. +Now in his stead this spear receive +Whose deadly point thy heart shall cleave." + + He ceased: he hurled the mortal dart +By Maya forged with magic art. +The spear, with all his fury flung, +Swift, flickering like a serpent's tongue, +Adorned with many a tinkling bell, +Smote Lakshman, and the hero fell. +When Ráma saw, he heaved a sigh, +A tear one moment dimmed his eye. +But tender grief was soon repressed +And thoughts of vengeance filled his breast. +The air around him flashed and gleamed +As from his bow the arrows streamed; +And Lanká's lord, the foeman's dread, +O'erwhelmed with terror turned and fled. + + + + +Canto CII. Lakshman Healed. + + +But Ráma, pride of Raghu's race, +Gazed tenderly on Lakshman's face, +And, as the sight his spirit broke, +Turned to Sushen and sadly spoke: +"Where is my power and valour? how +Shall I have heart for battle now, +When dead before my weeping eyes +My brother, noblest Lakshman, lies? +My tears in blinding torrents flow, +My hand unnerved has dropped my bow. +The pangs of woe have blanched my cheek, +My heart is sick, my strength is weak. +Ah me, my brother! Ah, that I +By Lakshman's side might sink and die: +Life, war and conquest, all are vain +If Lakshman lies in battle slain. +Why will those eyes my glances shun? +Hast thou no word of answer, none? +Ah, is thy noble spirit flown +And gone to other worlds alone? +Couldst thou not let thy brother seek +Those worlds with thee? O speak, O speak! +Rise up once more, my brother, rise, +Look on me with thy loving eyes. +Were not thy steps beside me still +In gloomy wood, on breezy hill? +Did not thy gentle care assuage +Thy brother's grief and fitful rage? +Didst thou not all his troubles share, +His guide and comfort in despair?" + + As Ráma, vanquished, wept and sighed +The Vánar chieftain thus replied: +"Great Prince, unmanly thoughts dismiss, +Nor yield thy soul to grief like this. +In vain those burning tears are shed: +Our glory Lakshman is not dead. +Death on his brow no mark has set, +Where beauty's lustre lingers yet. +Clear is the skin, and tender hues +Of lotus flowers his palms suffuse. +O Ráma, cheer thy trembling heart; +Not thus do life and body part. +Now, Hanumán, to thee I speak: +Hie hence to tall Mahodaya's(996) peak +Where herbs of sovereign virtue grow +Which life and health and strength bestow +Bring thou the leaves to balm his pain, +And Lakshman shall be well again." + + He ceased: the Wind-God's son obeyed +Swift through the clouds his way he made. +He reached the hill, nor stayed to find +The wondrous herbs of healing kind, +From its broad base the mount he tore +With all the shrubs and trees it bore, +Sped through the clouds again and showed +To wise Sushen his woody load.(997) +Sushen in wonder viewed the hill, +And culled the sovereign salve of ill. +Soon as the healing herb he found, +The fragrant leaves he crushed and ground. +Then over Lakshman's face he bent, +Who, healed and strengthened by the scent +Of that blest herb divinely sweet, +Rose fresh and lusty on his feet. + + + + +Canto CIII. Indra's Car. + + +Then Raghu's son forgot his woe: +Again he grasped his fallen bow +And hurled at Lanká's lord amain +The tempest of his arrowy rain. +Drawn by the steeds his lords had brought, +Again the giant turned and fought. +And drove his glittering chariot nigh +As springs the Day-God through the sky. +Then, as his sounding bow he bent, +Like thunderbolts his shafts were sent, +As when dark clouds in rain time shed +Fierce torrents on a mountain's head. +High on his car the giant rode, +On foot the son of Raghu strode. +The Gods from their celestial height +Indignant saw the unequal fight. +Then he whom heavenly hosts revere, +Lord Indra, called his charioteer: + + "Haste, Mátali," he cried, "descend; +To Raghu's son my chariot lend. +With cheering words the chief address; +And all the Gods thy deed will bless." + + He bowed; he brought the glorious car +Whose tinkling bells were heard afar; +Fair as the sun of morning, bright +With gold and pearl and lazulite. +He yoked the steeds of tawny hue +That swifter than the tempest flew. +Then down the slope of heaven he hied +And stayed the car by Ráma's side. +"Ascend, O Chief," he humbly cried, +"The chariot which the Gods provide. +The mighty bow of Indra see, +Sent by the Gods who favour thee; +Behold this coat of glittering mail, +And spear and shafts which never fail." + + Cheered by the grace the Immortals showed +The chieftain on the chariot rode. +Then as the car-borne warriors met +The awful fight raged fiercer yet. +Each shaft that Rávan shot became +A serpent red with kindled flame, +And round the limbs of Ráma hung +With fiery jaws and quivering tongue. +But every serpent fled dismayed +When Raghu's valiant son displayed +The weapon of the Feathered King,(998) +And loosed his arrows from the string. +But Rávan armed his bow anew, +And showers of shafts at Ráma flew, +While the fierce king in swift career +Smote with a dart the charioteer. +An arrow shot by Rávan's hand +Laid the proud banner on the sand, +And Indra's steeds of heavenly strain +Fell by the iron tempest slain. +On Gods and spirits of the air +Fell terror, trembling, and despair. +The sea's white billows mounted high +With froth and foam to drench the sky. +The sun by lurid clouds was veiled, +The friendly lights of heaven were paled; +And, fiercely gleaming, fiery Mars +Opposed the beams of gentler stars. + + Then Ráma's eyes with fury blazed +As Indra's heavenly spear he raised. +Loud rang the bells: the glistering head +Bright flashes through the region shed. +Down came the spear in swift descent: +The giant's lance was crushed and bent. +Then Rávan's horses brave and fleet +Fell dead beneath his arrowy sleet. +Fierce on his foeman Ráma pressed, +And gored with shafts his mighty breast. +And spouting streams of crimson dyed +The weary giant's limbs and side. + +[I omit Cantos CIV and CV in which the fight is renewed and Rávan severely +reprimands his charioteer for timidity and want of confidence in his +master's prowess, and orders him to charge straight at Ráma on the next +occasion.] + + + + +Canto CVI. Glory To The Sun. + + +There faint and bleeding fast, apart +Stood Rávan raging in his heart. +Then, moved with ruth for Ráma's sake, +Agastya(999) came and gently spake: +"Bend, Ráma, bend thy heart and ear +The everlasting truth to hear +Which all thy hopes through life will bless +And crown thine arms with full success. +The rising sun with golden rays, +Light of the worlds, adore and praise: +The universal king, the lord +By hosts of heaven and fiends adored. +He tempers all with soft control, +He is the Gods' diviner soul; +And Gods above and fiends below +And men to him their safety owe. +He Brahmá, Vishnu, Siva, he +Each person of the glorious Three, +Is every God whose praise we tell, +The King of Heaven,(1000) the Lord of Hell:(1001) +Each God revered from times of old, +The Lord of War,(1002) the King of Gold:(1003) +Mahendra, Time and Death is he, +The Moon, the Ruler of the Sea.(1004) +He hears our praise in every form,-- +The manes,(1005) Gods who ride the storm,(1006) +The Asvins,(1007) Manu,(1008) they who stand +Round Indra,(1009) and the Sádhyas'(1010) band +He is the air, and life and fire, +The universal source and sire: +He brings the seasons at his call, +Creator, light, and nurse of all. +His heavenly course he joys to run, +Maker of Day, the golden sun. +The steeds that whirl his car are seven,(1011) +The flaming steeds that flash through heaven. +Lord of the sky, the conqueror parts +The clouds of night with glistering darts. +He, master of the Vedas' lore, +Commands the clouds' collected store: +He is the rivers' surest friend; +He bids the rains, and they descend. +Stars, planets, constellations own +Their monarch of the golden throne. +Lord of twelve forms,(1012) to thee I bow, +Most glorious King of heaven art thou. +O Ráma, he who pays aright +Due worship to the Lord of Light +Shall never fall oppressed by ill, +But find a stay and comfort still. +Adore with all thy heart and mind +This God of Gods, to him resigned; +And thou his saving power shalt know +Victorious o'er thy giant foe." + +[This Canto does not appear in the Bengal recension. It comes in awkwardly +and may I think be considered as an interpolation, but I paraphrase a +portion of it as a relief after so much fighting and carnage, and as an +interesting glimpse of the monotheistic ideas which underlie the Hindu +religion. The hymn does not readily lend itself to metrical translation, +and I have not attempted here to give a faithful rendering of the whole. A +literal version of the text and the commentary given in the Calcutta +edition will be found in the Additional Notes. + +A canto is here omitted. It contains fighting of the ordinary kind between +Ráma and Rávan, and a description of sights and sounds of evil omen +foreboding the destruction of the giant.] + + + + +Canto CVIII. The Battle. + + +He spoke, and vanished: Ráma raised +His eyes with reverence meet, and praised +The glorious Day-God full in view: +Then armed him for the fight anew. +Urged onward by his charioteer +The giant's foaming steeds came near, +And furious was the battle's din +Where each resolved to die or win. +The Rákshas host and Vánar bands +Stood with their weapons in their hands, +And watched in terror and dismay +The fortune of the awful fray. +The giant chief with rage inflamed +His darts at Ráma's pennon aimed; +But when they touched the chariot made +By heavenly hands their force was stayed. +Then Ráma's breast with fury swelled; +He strained the mighty bow he held, +And straight at Rávan's banner flew +An arrow as the string he drew-- +A deadly arrow swift of flight, +Like some huge snake ablaze with light, +Whose fury none might e'er repel,-- +And, split in twain, the standard fell. +At Ráma's steeds sharp arrows, hot +With flames of fire, the giant shot. +Unmoved the heavenly steeds sustained +The furious shower the warrior rained, +As though soft lotus tendrils smote +Each haughty crest and glossy coat. +Then volleyed swift by magic art, +Tree, mountain peak and spear and dart, +Trident and pike and club and mace +Flew hurtling straight at Ráma's face. +But Ráma with his steeds and car +Escaped the storm which fell afar +Where the strange missiles, as they rushed +To earth, a thousand Vánars crushed. + + + + +Canto CIX. The Battle. + + +With wondrous power and might and skill +The giant fought with Ráma still. +Each at his foe his chariot drove, +And still for death or victory strove. +The warriors' steeds together dashed, +And pole with pole reëchoing clashed. +Then Ráma launching dart on dart +Made Rávan's coursers swerve and start. +Nor was the lord of Lanká slow +To rain his arrows on the foe, +Who showed, by fiery points assailed, +No trace of pain, nor shook nor quailed. +Dense clouds of arrows Ráma shot +With that strong arm which rested not, +And spear and mace and club and brand +Fell in dire rain from Rávan's hand. +The storm of missiles fiercely cast +Stirred up the oceans with its blast, +And Serpent-Gods and fiends who dwell +Below were troubled by the swell. +The earth with hill and plain and brook +And grove and garden reeled and shook: +The very sun grew cold and pale, +And horror stilled the rising gale. +God and Gandharva, sage and saint +Cried out, with grief and terror faint: +"O may the prince of Raghu's line +Give peace to Bráhmans and to kine, +And, rescuing the worlds, o'erthrow +The giant king our awful foe." + + Then to his deadly string the pride +Of Raghu's race a shaft applied. +Sharp as a serpent's venomed fang +Straight to its mark the arrow sprang, +And from the giant's body shred +With trenchant steel the monstrous head. +There might the triple world behold +That severed head adorned with gold. +But when all eyes were bent to view, +Swift in its stead another grew. +Again the shaft was pointed well: +Again the head divided fell; +But still as each to earth was cast +Another head succeeded fast. +A hundred, bright with fiery flame, +Fell low before the victor's aim, +Yet Rávan by no sign betrayed +That death was near or strength decayed. +The doubtful fight he still maintained, +And on the foe his missiles rained. +In air, on earth, on plain, on hill, +With awful might he battled still; +And through the hours of night and day +The conflict knew no pause or stay. + + + + +Canto CX. Rávan's Death. + + +Then Mátali to Ráma cried: +"Let other arms the day decide. +Why wilt thou strive with useless toil +And see his might thy efforts foil? +Launch at the foe thy dart whose fire +Was kindled by the Almighty Sire." +He ceased: and Raghu's son obeyed: +Upon his string the hero laid +An arrow, like a snake that hissed. +Whose fiery flight had never missed: +The arrow Saint Agastya gave +And blessed the chieftain's life to save +That dart the Eternal Father made +The Monarch of the Gods to aid; +By Brahmá's self on him bestowed +When forth to fight Lord Indra rode. +'Twas feathered with the rushing wind; +The glowing sun and fire combined +To the keen point their splendour lent; +The shaft, ethereal element, +By Meru's hill and Mandar, pride +Of mountains, had its weight supplied. +He laid it on the twisted cord, +He turned the point at Lanká's lord, +And swift the limb-dividing dart +Pierced the huge chest and cleft the heart, +And dead he fell upon the plain +Like Vritra by the Thunderer slain. +The Rákahas host when Rávan fell +Sent forth a wild terrific yell, +Then turned and fled, all hope resigned, +Through Lanká's gates, nor looked behind. +His voice each joyous Vánar raised, +And Ráma, conquering Ráma, praised. +Soft from celestial minstrels came +The sound of music and acclaim. +Soft, fresh, and cool, a rising breeze +Brought odours from the heavenly trees, +And ravishing the sight and smell +A wondrous rain of blossoms fell: +And voices breathed round Raghu's son: +"Champion of Gods, well done, well done." + + + + +Canto CXI. Vibhishan's Lament. + + +Vibhishan saw his brother slain, +Nor could his heart its woe contain. +O'er the dead king he sadly bent +And mourned him with a loud lament: +"O hero, bold and brave," he cried, +"Skilled in all arms, in battle tried. +Spoiled of thy crown, with limbs outspread, +Why wilt thou press thy gory bed? +Why slumber on the earth's cold breast, +When sumptuous couches woo to rest? +Ah me, my brother over bold, +Thine is the fate my heart foretold: +But love and pride forbade to hear +The friend who blamed thy wild career. +Fallen is the sun who gave us light, +Our lordly moon is veiled in night. +Our beacon fire is dead and cold +A hundred waves have o'er it rolled. +What could his light and fire avail +Against Lord Ráma's arrowy hail? +Woe for the giants' royal tree, +Whose stately height was fair to see. +His buds were deeds of kingly grace, +His bloom the sons who decked his race. +With rifled bloom and mangled bough +The royal tree lies prostrate now." +"Nay, idly mourn not," Ráma cried, +"The warrior king has nobly died, +Intrepid hero, firm through all, +So fell he as the brave should fall; +And ill beseems it chiefs like us +To weep for those who perish thus. +Be firm: thy causeless grief restrain, +And pay the dues that yet remain." + + Again Vibhishan sadly spoke: +"His was the hero arm that broke +Embattled Gods' and Indra's might, +Unconquered ere to-day in fight. +He rushed against thee, fought and fell, +As Ocean, when his waters swell, +Hurling his might against a rock, +Falls spent and shattered by the shock. +Woe for our king's untimely end, +The generous lord the trusty friend: +Our sure defence when fear arose, +A dreaded scourge to stubborn foes. +O, let the king thy hand has slain +The honours of the dead obtain." + + Then Ráma answered. "Hatred dies +When low in dust the foeman lies. +Now triumph bids the conflict cease, +And knits us in the bonds of peace. +Let funeral rites be duly paid. +And be it mine thy toil to aid." + + + + +Canto CXII. The Rákshas Dames. + + +High rose the universal wail +That mourned the monarch's death, and, pale +With crushing woe, her hair unbound, +Her eyes in floods of sorrow drowned, +Forth from the inner chambers came +With trembling feet each royal dame, +Heedless of those who bade them stay +They reached the field where Rávan lay; +There falling by their husband's side, +"Ah, King! ah dearest lord!" they cried. +Like creepers shattered by the storm +They threw them on his mangled form. +One to his bleeding bosom crept +And lifted up her voice and wept. +About his feet one mourner clung, +Around his neck another hung, +One on the giant's severed head, +Her pearly tears in torrents shed +Fast as the drops the summer shower +Pours down upon the lotus flower. +"Ah, he whose arm in anger reared +The King of Gods and Yáma feared, +While panic struck their heavenly train, +Lies prostrate in the battle slain. +Thy haughty heart thou wouldst not bend, +Nor listen to each wiser friend. +Ah, had the dame, as they implored, +Been yielded to her injured lord, +We had not mourned this day thy fall, +And happy had it been for all. +Then Ráma and thy friends content +In blissful peace their days had spent. +Thine injured brother had not fled, +Nor giant chiefs and Vánars bled. +Yet for these woes we will not blame. +Thy fancy for the Maithil dame, +Fate, ruthless Fate, whom none may bend +Has urged thee to thy hapless end." + + + + +Canto CXIII. Mandodarí's Lament. + + +While thus they wept, supreme in place, +The loveliest for form and face, +Mandodarí drew near alone, +Looked on her lord and made her moan: +"Ah Monarch, Indra feared to stand +In fight before thy conquering hand. +From thy dread spear the Immortals ran; +And art thou murdered by a man? +Ah, 'twas no child of earth, I know, +That smote thee with that mortal blow. +'Twas Death himself in Ráma's shape, +That slew thee: Death whom none escape. +Or was it he who rules the skies +Who met thee, clothed in man's disguise? +Ah no, my lord, not Indra: he +In battle ne'er could look on thee. +One only God thy match I deem: +'Twas Vishnu's self, the Lord Supreme, +Whose days through ceaseless time extend +And ne'er began and ne'er shall end: +He with the discus, shell, and mace, +Brought ruin on the giant race. +Girt by the Gods of heaven arrayed +Like Vánar hosts his strength to aid, +He Ráma's shape and arms assumed +And slew the king whom Fate had doomed. +In Janasthán when Khara died +With giant legions by his side, +No mortal was the unconquered foe +In Ráma's form who struck the blow. +When Hanumán the Vanár came +And burnt thy town with hostile flame, +I counselled peace in anxious fear: +I counselled, but thou wouldst not hear. +Thy fancy for the foreign dame +Has brought thee death and endless shame. +Why should thy foolish fancy roam? +Hadst thou not wives as fair at home? +In beauty, form and grace could she, +Dear lord, surpass or rival me? +Now will the days of Sítá glide +In tranquil joy by Ráma's side: +And I--ah me, around me raves +A sea of woe with whelming waves. +With thee in days of old I trod +Each spot beloved by nymph and God; +I stood with thee in proud delight +On Mandar's side and Meru's height; +With thee, my lord, enchanted strayed +In Chaitraratha's(1013) lovely shade, +And viewed each fairest scene afar +Transported in thy radiant car. +But source of every joy wast thou, +And all my bliss is ended now." + + Then Ráma to Vibhishan cried: +"Whate'er the ritual bids, provide. +Obsequial honours duly pay, +And these sad mourners' grief allay." +Vibhishan answered, wise and true, +For duty's changeless law he knew: +"Nay one who scorned all sacred vows +And dared to touch another's spouse, +Fell tyrant of the human race, +With funeral rites I may not grace." + + Him Raghu's royal son, the best +Of those who love the law, addressed: +"False was the rover of the night, +He loved the wrong and scorned the right. +Yet for the fallen warrior plead +The dauntless heart, the valorous deed. +Let him who ne'er had brooked defeat, +The chief whom Indra feared to meet, +The ever-conquering lord, obtain +The honours that should grace the slain." +Vibhishan bade his friends prepare +The funeral rites with thoughtful care. +Himself the royal palace sought +Whence sacred fire was quickly brought, +With sandal wood and precious scents +And pearl and coral ornaments. +Wise Bráhmans, while the tears that flowed +Down their wan cheeks their sorrow sowed, +Upon a golden litter laid +The corpse in finest ropes arrayed. +Thereon were flowers and pennons hung, +And loud the monarch's praise was sung. +Then was the golden litter raised, +While holy fire in order blazed. +And first in place Vibhishan led +The slow procession of the dead, +Behind, their cheeks with tears bedewed, +Came sad the widowed multitude. +Where, raised as Bráhmans ordered, stood +Piled sandal logs, and scented wood, +The body of the king was set +High on a deerskin coverlet. +Then duly to the monarch's shade +The offerings for the dead they paid, +And southward on the eastern side +An altar formed and fire supplied. +Then on the shoulder of the dead +The oil and clotted milk were shed. +All rites were done as rules ordain: +The sacrificial goat was slain. +Next on the corpse were perfumes thrown +And many a flowery wreath was strown; +And with Vibhishan's ready aid +Rich vesture o'er the king was laid. +Then while the tears their cheeks bedewed +Parched grain upon the dead they strewed; +Last, to the wood, as rules require, +Vibhishan set the kindling fire. + + Then having bathed, as texts ordain, +To Lanká went the mourning train. +Vibhishan, when his task was done, +Stood by the side of Raghu's son. +And Ráma, freed from every foe, +Unstrung at last his deadly bow, +And laid the glittering shafts aside, +And mail by Indra's love supplied. + + + + +Canto CXIV. Vibhishan Consecrated. + + +Joy reigned in heaven where every eye +Had seen the Lord of Lanká die. +In cars whose sheen surpassed the sun's +Triumphant rode the radiant ones: +And Rávan's death, by every tongue, +And Ráma's glorious deeds were sung. +They praised the Vánars true and brave, +The counsel wise Sugríva gave. +The deeds of Hanúmán they told, +The valiant chief supremely bold, +The strong ally, the faithful friend, +And Sítá's truth which naught could bend. + + To Mátali, whom Indra sent, +His head the son of Raghu bent: +And he with fiery steeds who clove +The clouds again to Swarga drove. +Round King Sugríva brave and true +His arms in rapture Ráma threw, +Looked on the host with joy and pride, +And thus to noble Lakshman cried: + + "Now let king-making drops be shed, +Dear brother, on Vibhishan's head +For truth and friendship nobly shown, +And make him lord of Rávan's throne." +This longing of his heart he told: +And Lakshman took an urn of gold +And bade the wind-fleet Vánars bring +Sea water for the giants' king. +The brimming urn was swiftly brought: +Then on a throne superbly wrought +Vibhishan sat, the giants' lord, +And o'er his brows the drops were poured. +As Raghu's son the rite beheld +His loving heart with rapture swelled: +But tenderer thoughts within him woke, +And thus to Hanúmán he spoke: + + "Go to my queen: this message give: +Say Lakshman and Sugríva live. +The death of Lanká's monarch tell, +And bid her joy, for all is well." + + + + +Canto CXV. Sítá's Joy. + + +The Vánar chieftain bowed his head, +Within the walls of Lanká sped, +Leave from the new-made king obtained, +And Sítá's lovely garden gained. +Beneath a tree the queen he found, +Where Rákshas warders watched around. +Her pallid cheek, her tangled hair, +Her raiment showed her deep despair, +Near and more near the envoy came +And gently hailed the weeping dame. +She started up in sweet surprise, +And sudden joy illumed her eyes. +For well the Vánar's voice she knew, +And hope reviving sprang and grew. + + "Fair Queen," he said, "our task is done: +The foe is slain and Lanká won. +Triumphant mid triumphant friends +Kind words of greeting Ráma sends. +"Blest for thy sake, O spouse most true, +My deadly foe I met and slew. +Mine eyes are strangers yet to sleep: +I built a bridge athwart the deep +And crossed the sea to Lanká's shore +To keep the mighty oath I swore. +Now, gentle love, thy cares dispel, +And weep no more, for all is well. +Fear not in Rávan's house to stay +For good Vibhishan now bears sway, +For constant truth and friendship known +Regard his palace as thine own." +He greets thee thus thy heart to cheer, +And urged by love will soon be here." + + Then flushed with joy the lady's cheek. +Her eyes o'erflowed, her voice was weak; +But struggling with her sobs she broke +Her silence thus, and faintly spoke: +"So fast the flood of rapture came, +My trembling tongue no words could frame. +Ne'er have I heard in days of bliss +A tale that gave such joy as this. +More precious far than gems and gold +The message which thy lips have told." + + His reverent hands the Vánar raised +And thus the lady's answer praised: +"Sweet are the words, O Queen, which thou +True to thy lord, hast spoken now, +Better than gems and pearls of price, +Yea, or the throne of Paradise. +But, lady, ere I leave this place, +Grant me, I pray, a single grace. +Permit me, and this vengeful hand +Shall slay thy guards, this Rákshas band, +Whose cruel insult threat and scorn +Thy gentle soul too long has borne." + + Thus, stern of mood, Hanúmán cried: +The Maithil lady thus replied: +"Nay, be not wroth with servants: they, +When monarchs bid must needs obey. +And, vassals of their lords, fulfil +Each fancy of their sovereign will. +To mine own sins the blame impute, +For as we sow we reap the fruit. +The tyrant's will these dames obeyed +When their fierce threats my soul dismayed." + + She ceased: with admiration moved +The Vánar chief her words approved: +"Thy speech," he cried, "is worthy one +Whom love has linked to Raghu's son. +Now speak, O Queen, that I may know +Thy pleasure, for to him I go." +The Vánar ceased: then Janak's child +Made answer as she sweetly smiled: +"'My first, my only wish can be, +O chief, my loving lord to see." +Again the Vánar envoy spoke, +And with his words new rapture woke: +"Queen, ere this sun shall cease to shine +Thy Ráma's eyes shall look in thine. +Again the lord of Raghu's race +Shall turn to thee his moon-bright face. +His faithful brother shall thou see +And every friend who fought for thee, +And greet once more thy king restored +Like Sachí(1014) to her heavenly lord." +To Raghu's son his steps he bent +And told the message that she sent. + + + + +Canto CXVI. The Meeting. + + +He looked upon that archer chief +Whose full eye mocked the lotus leaf, +And thus the noble Vánar spake: +"Now meet the queen for whose dear sake +Thy mighty task was first begun, +And now the glorious fruit is won. +O'erwhelmed with woe thy lady lies, +The hot tears streaming from her eyes. +And still the queen must long and pine +Until those eyes be turned to thine." + + But Ráma stood in pensive mood, +And gathering tears his eyes bedewed. +His sad looks sought the ground: he sighed +And thus to King Vibhishan cried: +"Let Sítá bathe and tire her head +And hither to my sight be led +In raiment sweet with precious scent, +And gay with golden ornament." + + The Rákshas king his palace sought, +And Sítá from her bower was brought. +Then Rákshas bearers tall and strong, +Selected from the menial throng, +Through Lanká's gate the queen, arrayed +In glorious robes and gems, conveyed. +Concealed behind the silken screen, +Swift to the plain they bore the queen, +While Vánars, close on every side, +With eager looks the litter eyed. +The warders at Vibhishan's hest +The onward rushing throng repressed, +While like the roar of ocean loud +Rose the wild murmur of the crowd. +The son of Raghu saw and moved +With anger thus the king reproved: +"Why vex with hasty blow and threat +The Vánars, and my rights forget? +Repress this zeal, untimely shown: +I count this people as mine own. +A woman's guard is not her bower, +The lofty wall, the fenced tower: +Her conduct is her best defence, +And not a king's magnificence. +At holy rites, in war and woe, +Her face unveiled a dame may show; +When at the Maiden's Choice(1015) they meet, +When marriage troops parade the street. +And she, my queen, who long has lain +In prison racked with care and pain, +May cease a while her face to hide, +For is not Ráma by her side? +Lay down the litter: on her feet +Let Sítá come her lord to meet. +And let the hosts of woodland race +Look near upon the lady's face." + + Then Lakshman and each Vánar chief +Who heard his words were filled with grief. +The lady's gentle spirit sank, +And from each eye in fear she shrank, +As, her sweet eyelids veiled for shame, +Slowly before her lord she came. +While rapture battled with surprise +She raised to his her wistful eyes. +Then with her doubt and fear she strove, +And from her breast all sorrow drove. +Regardless of the gathering crowd, +Bright as the moon without a cloud, +She bent her eyes, no longer dim, +In joy and trusting love on him. + + + + +Canto CXVII. Sítá's Disgrace. + + +He saw her trembling by his side, +And looked upon her face and cried: +"Lady, at length my task is done, +And thou, the prize of war, art won, +This arm my glory has retrieved, +And all that man might do achieved; +The insulting foe in battle slain +And cleared mine honour from its stain. +This day has made my name renowned +And with success my labour crowned. +Lord of myself, the oath I swore +Is binding on my soul no more. +If from my home my queen was reft, +This arm has well avenged the theft, +And in the field has wiped away +The blot that on mine honour lay. +The bridge that spans the foaming flood, +The city red with giants' blood; +The hosts by King Sugríva led +Who wisely counselled, fought and bled; +Vibhishan's love, our guide and stay-- +All these are crowned with fruit to-day. +But, lady, 'twas not love for thee +That led mine army o'er the sea. +'Twas not for thee our blood was shed, +Or Lanká filled with giant dead. +No fond affection for my wife +Inspired me in the hour of strife. +I battled to avenge the cause +Of honour and insulted laws. +My love is fled, for on thy fame +Lies the dark blot of sin and shame; +And thou art hateful as the light +That flashes on the injured sight. +The world is all before thee: flee: +Go where thou wilt, but not with me. +How should my home receive again +A mistress soiled with deathless stain? +How should I brook the foul disgrace, +Scorned by my friends and all my race? +For Rávan bore thee through the sky, +And fixed on thine his evil eye. +About thy waist his arms he threw, +Close to his breast his captive drew, +And kept thee, vassal of his power, +An inmate of his ladies' bower." + + + + +Canto CXVIII. Sítá's Reply. + + +Struck down with overwhelming shame +She shrank within her trembling frame. +Each word of Ráma's like a dart +Had pierced the lady to the heart; +And from her sweet eyes unrestrained +The torrent of her sorrows, rained. +Her weeping eyes at length she dried, +And thus mid choking sobs replied: +"Canst thou, a high-born prince, dismiss +A high-born dame with speech like this? +Such words befit the meanest hind, +Not princely birth and generous mind, +By all my virtuous life I swear +I am not what thy words declare. +If some are faithless, wilt thou find +No love and truth in womankind? +Doubt others if thou wilt, but own +The truth which all my life has shown. +If, when the giant seized his prey, +Within his hated arms I lay, +And felt the grasp I dreaded, blame +Fate and the robber, not thy dame. +What could a helpless woman do? +My heart was mine and still was true, +Why when Hanúmán sent by thee +Sought Lanká's town across the sea, +Couldst thou not give, O lord of men, +Thy sentence of rejection then? +Then in the presence of the chief +Death, ready death, had brought relief, +Nor had I nursed in woe and pain +This lingering life, alas in vain. +Then hadst thou shunned the fruitless strife +Nor jeopardied thy noble life, +But spared thy friends and bold allies +Their vain and weary enterprise. +Is all forgotten, all? my birth, +Named Janak's child, from fostering earth? +That day of triumph when a maid +My trembling hand in thine I laid? +My meek obedience to thy will, +My faithful love through joy and ill, +That never failed at duty's call-- +O King, is all forgotten, all?" + + To Lakshman then she turned and spoke +While sobs and sighs her utterance broke: +"Sumitrá's son, a pile prepare, +My refuge in my dark despair. +I will not live to bear this weight +Of shame, forlorn and desolate. +The kindled fire my woes shall end +And be my best and surest friend." + + His mournful eyes the hero raised +And wistfully on Ráma gazed, +In whose stern look no ruth was seen, +No mercy for the weeping queen. +No chieftain dared to meet those eyes, +To pray, to question or advise. + + The word was passed, the wood was piled +And fain to die stood Janak's child. +She slowly paced around her lord, +The Gods with reverent act adored, +Then raising suppliant hands the dame +Prayed humbly to the Lord of Flame: +"As this fond heart by virtue swayed +From Raghu's son has never strayed, +So, universal witness, Fire +Protect my body on the pyre, +As Raghu's son has idly laid +This charge on Sítá, hear and aid." + + She ceased: and fearless to the last +Within the flame's wild fury passed. +Then rose a piercing cry from all +Dames, children, men, who saw her fall +Adorned with gems and gay attire +Beneath the fury of the fire. + + + + +Canto CXIX. Glory To Vishnu. + + +The shrill cry pierced through Ráma's ears +And his sad eyes o'erflowed with tears, +When lo, transported through the sky +A glorious band of Gods was nigh. +Ancestral shades,(1016) by men revered, +In venerable state appeared, +And he from whom all riches flow,(1017) +And Yáma Lord who reigns below: +King Indra, thousand-eyed, and he +Who wields the sceptre of the sea.(1018) +The God who shows the blazoned bull,(1019) +And Brahmá Lord most bountiful +By whose command the worlds were made +All these on radiant cars conveyed, +Brighter than sun-beams, sought the place +Where stood the prince of Raghu's race, +And from their glittering seats the best +Of blessed Gods the chief addressed: + + "Couldst thou, the Lord of all, couldst thou, +Creator of the worlds, allow +Thy queen, thy spouse to brave the fire +And give her body to the pyre? +Dost thou not yet, supremely wise, +Thy heavenly nature recognize?" +They ceased: and Ráma thus began: +"I deem myself a mortal man. +Of old Ikshváku's line, I spring +From Dasaratha Kosal's king." +He ceased: and Brahmá's self replied: +"O cast the idle thought aside. +Thou art the Lord Náráyan, thou +The God to whom all creatures bow. +Thou art the saviour God who wore +Of old the semblance of a boar; +Thou he whose discus overthrows +All present, past and future foes; +Thou Brahmá, That whose days extend +Without beginning, growth or end; +The God, who, bears the bow of horn, +Whom four majestic arms adorn; +Thou art the God who rules the sense +And sways with gentle influence; +Thou all-pervading Vishnu Lord +Who wears the ever-conquering sword; +Thou art the Guide who leads aright, +Thou Krishna of unequalled might. +Thy hand, O Lord, the hills and plains, +And earth with all her life sustains; +Thou wilt appear in serpent form +When sinks the earth in fire and storm. +Queen Sítá of the lovely brows +Is Lakshmí thy celestial spouse. +To free the worlds from Rávan thou +Wouldst take the form thou wearest now. +Rejoice: the mighty task is done: +Rejoice, thou great and glorious one. +The tyrant, slain, thy labours end: +Triumphant now to heaven ascend. +High bliss awaits the devotee +Who clings in loving faith to thee, +Who celebrates with solemn praise +The Lord of ne'er beginning days. +On earth below, in heaven above +Great joy shall crown his faith and love. +And he who loves the tale divine +Which tells each glorious deed of thine +Through life's fair course shall never know +The fierce assault of pain and woe."(1020) + + + + +Canto CXX. Sítá Restored. + + +Thus spoke the Self-existent Sire: +Then swiftly from the blazing pyre +The circling flames were backward rolled, +And, raising in his gentle hold +Alive unharmed the Maithil dame, +The Lord of Fire embodied came. +Fair as the morning was her sheen, +And gold and gems adorned the queen. +Her form in crimson robes arrayed, +Her hair was bound in glossy braid. +Her wreath was fresh and sweet of scent, +Undimmed was every ornament. +Then, standing close to Ráma'a side, +The universal witness cried: +"From every blot and blemish free +Thy faithful queen returns to thee. +In word or deed, in look or mind +Her heart from thee has ne'er declined. +By force the giant bore away +From thy lone cot his helpless prey; +And in his bowers securely kept +She still has longed for thee and wept. +With soft temptation, bribe and threat, +He bade the dame her love forget: +But, nobly faithful to her lord, +Her soul the giant's suit abhorred. +Receive, O King, thy queen again, +Pure, ever pure from spot and stain." + + Still stood the king in thoughtful mood +And tears of joy his eyes bedewed. +Then to the best of Gods the best +Of warrior chiefs his mind expressed: + + "'Twas meet that mid the thousands here +The searching fire my queen should clear; +For long within the giant's bower +She dwelt the vassal of his power. +For else had many a slanderous tongue +Reproaches on mine honour flung, +And scorned the king who, love-impelled, +His consort from the proof withheld. +No doubt had I, but surely knew +That Janak's child was pure and true, +That, come what might, in good and ill +Her faithful heart was with me still. +I knew that Rávan could not wrong +My queen whom virtue made so strong. +I knew his heart would sink and fail, +Nor dare her honour to assail, +As Ocean, when he raves and roars, +Fears to o'erleap his bounding shores. +Now to the worlds her truth is shown, +And Sítá is again mine own. +Thus proved before unnumbered eyes, +On her pure fame no shadow lies. +As heroes to their glory cleave, +Mine own dear spouse I ne'er will leave." +He ceased: and clasped in fond embrace +On his dear breast she hid her face. + + + + +Canto CXXI. Dasaratha. + + +To him Mahesvar thus replied: +"O strong-armed hero, lotus-eyed, +Thou, best of those who love the right, +Hast nobly fought the wondrous fight. +Dispelled by thee the doom that spread +Through trembling earth and heaven is fled. +The worlds exult in light and bliss, +And praise thy name, O chief, for this. +Now peace to Bharat's heart restore, +And bid Kausalyá weep no more. +Thy face let Queen Kaikeyí see, +Let fond Sumitrá gaze on thee. +The longing of thy friends relieve, +The kingdom of thy sires receive. +Let sons of gentle Sítá born +Ikshváku's ancient line adorn. +Then from all care and foemen freed +Perform the offering of the steed. +In pious gifts thy wealth expend, +Then to the home of Gods ascend, +Thy sire, this glorious king, behold, +Among the blest in heaven enrolled. +He comes from where the Immortals dwell: +Salute him, for he loves thee well." + + His mandate Raghu's sons obeyed, +And to their sire obeisance made, +Where high he stood above the car +In wondrous light that shone afar, +His limbs in radiant garments dressed +Whereon no spot of dust might rest. +When on the son he loved so well +The eyes of Dasaratha fell, +He strained the hero to his breast +And thus with gentle words addressed: +"No joy to me is heavenly bliss, +For there these eyes my Ráma miss. +Enrolled on high with saint and sage, +Thy woes, dear son, my thoughts engage. +Kaikeyí's guile I ne'er forget: +Her cruel words will haunt me yet, +Which sent thee forth, my son, to roam +The forest far from me and home. +Now when I look on each dear face, +And hold you both in fond embrace, +My heart is full of joy to see +The sons I love from danger free. +Now know I what the Gods designed, +And how in Ráma's form enshrined +The might of Purushottam lay, +The tyrant of the worlds to slay. +Ah, how Kausalyá will rejoice +To hear again her darling's voice, +And, all thy weary wanderings o'er, +To gaze upon thy face once more. +Ah blest, for ever blest are they +Whose eyes shall see the glorious day +Of thy return in joy at last, +Thy term of toil and exile past. +Ayodhyá's lord, begin thy reign, +And day by day new glory gain." + + He ceased: and Ráma thus replied: +"Be not this grace, O sire, denied. +Those hasty words, that curse revoke +Which from thy lips in anger broke: +"Kaikeyí, be no longer mine: +I cast thee off, both thee and thine." +O father, let no sorrow fall +On her or hers: thy curse recall." +"Yea, she shall live, if so thou wilt," +The sire replied, "absolved from guilt." +Round Lakshman then his arms he threw, +And moved by love began anew: +"Great store of merit shall be thine, +And brightly shall thy glory shine; +Secure on earth thy brother's grace. +And high in heaven shall be thy place. +Thy glorious king obey and fear: +To him the triple world is dear. +God, saint, and sage, by Indra led, +To Ráma bow the reverent head, +Nor from the Lord, the lofty-souled, +Their worship or their praise withhold. +Heart of the Gods, supreme is he, +The One who ne'er shall cease to be." + + On Sítá then he looked and smiled; +"List to my words" he said, "dear child, +Let not thy gentle breast retain +One lingering trace of wrath or pain. +When by the fire thy truth be proved, +By love for thee his will was moved. +The furious flame thy faith confessed +Which shrank not from the awful test: +And thou, in every heart enshrined, +Shalt live the best of womankind." + + He ceased: he bade the three adieu, +And home to heaven exulting flew. + + + + +Canto CXXII. Indra's Boon. + + +Then Indra, he whose fiery stroke +Slew furious Páka, turned and spoke: +"A glorious day, O chief, is this, +Rich with the fruit of lasting bliss. +Well pleased are we: we love thee well +Now speak, thy secret wishes tell." + + Thus spake the sovereign of the sky, +And this was Ráma's glad reply: +"If I have won your grace, incline +To grant this one request of mine. +Restore, O King: the Vánar dead +Whose blood for me was nobly shed. +To life and strength my friends recall, +And bring them back from Yáma's hall. +When, fresh in might the warriors rise, +Prepare a feast to glad their eyes. +Let fruits of every season glow, +And streams of purest water flow." + + Thus Raghu's son, great-hearted, prayed, +And Indra thus his answer made: +"High is the boon thou seekest: none +Should win this grace but Raghu's son. +Yet, faithful to the word I spake, +I grant the prayer for thy dear sake. +The Vánars whom the giants slew +Their life and vigour shall renew. +Their strength repaired, their gashes healed +Whose torrents dyed the battle field, +The warrior hosts from death shall rise +Like sleepers when their slumber flies." + + Restored from Yáma's dark domain +The Vánar legions filled the plain, +And, round the royal chief arrayed, +With wondering hearts obeisance paid. +Each God the son of Raghu praised, +And cried as loud his voice he raised: +"Turn, King, to fair Ayodhyá speed, +And leave thy friends of Vánar breed. +Thy true devoted consort cheer +After long days of woe and fear. +Bharat, thy loyal brother, see, +A hermit now for love of thee. +The tears of Queen Kausalyá dry, +And light with joy each stepdame's eye; +Then consecrated king of men +Make glad each faithful citizen." + + They ceased: and borne on radiant cars +Sought their bright home amid the stars. + + + + +Canto CXXIII. The Magic Car. + + +Then slept the tamer of his foes +And spent the night in calm repose. +Vibhishan came when morning broke, +And hailed the royal chief, and spoke: +"Here wait thee precious oil and scents, +And rich attire and ornaments. +The brimming urns are newly filled, +And women in their duty skilled, +With lotus-eyes, thy call attend, +Assistance at thy bath to lend." +"Let others," Ráma cried, "desire +These precious scents, this rich attire, +I heed not such delights as these, +For faithful Bharat, ill at ease, +Watching for me is keeping now +Far far away his rigorous vow. +By Bharat's side I long to stand, +I long to see my fatherland. +Far is Ayodhyá: long, alas, +The dreary road and hard to pass." + + "One day," Vibhishan cried, "one day +Shall bear thee o'er that length of way. +Is not the wondrous chariot mine, +Named Pushpak, wrought by hands divine. +The prize which Rávan seized of old +Victorious o'er the God of Gold? +This chariot, kept with utmost care, +Will waft thee through the fields of air, +And thou shalt light unwearied down +In fair Ayodhyá's royal town. +But yet if aught that I have done +Has pleased thee well, O Raghu's son; +If still thou carest for thy friend, +Some little time in Lanká spend; +There after toil of battle rest +Within my halls an honoured guest." +Again the son of Raghu spake: +"Thy life was perilled for my sake. +Thy counsel gave me priceless aid: +All honours have been richly paid. +Scarce can my love refuse, O best +Of giant kind, thy last request. +But still I yearn once more to see +My home and all most dear to me; +Nor can I brook one hour's delay: +Forgive me, speed me on my way." + + He ceased: the magic car was brought. +Of yore by Visvakarmá wrought. +In sunlike sheen it flashed and blazed; +And Raghu's sons in wonder gazed. + + + + +Canto CXXIV. The Departure. + + +The giant lord the chariot viewed, +And humbly thus his speech renewed: +"Behold, O King, the car prepared: +Now be thy further will declared." +He ceased: and Ráma spake once more: +"These hosts who thronged to Lanká's shore +Their faith and might have nobly shown, +And set thee on the giants' throne. +Let pearls and gems and gold repay +The feats of many a desperate day, +That all may go triumphant hence +Proud of their noble recompense." +Vibhishan, ready at his call, +With gold and gems enriched them all. +Then Ráma clomb the glorious car +That shone like day's resplendent star. +There in his lap he held his dame +Vailing her eyes in modest shame. +Beside him Lakshman took his stand, +Whose mighty bow still armed his hand, +"O King Vibhishan," Ráma cried, +"O Vánar chiefs, so long allied, +My comrades till the foemen fell, +List, for I speak a long farewell. +The task, in doubt and fear begun, +With your good aid is nobly done. +Leave Lanká's shore, your steps retrace, +Brave warriors of the Vánar race. +Thou, King Sugríva, true, through all, +To friendship's bond and duty's call, +Seek far Kishkindhá with thy train +And o'er thy realm in glory reign. +Farewell, Vibhishan, Lanká's throne +Won by our arms is now thine own, +Thou, mighty lord, hast nought to dread +From heavenly Gods by Indra led. +My last farewell, 0 King, receive, +For Lanká's isle this hour I leave." + + Loud rose their cry in answer: "We, +O Raghu's son, would go with thee. +With thee delighted would we stray +Where sweet Ayodhyá's groves are gay, +Then in the joyous synod view +King-making balm thy brows bedew; +Our homage to Kausalyá pay, +And hasten on our homeward way." + + Their prayer the son of Raghu heard, +And spoke, his heart with rapture stirred: +"Sugríva, O my faithful friend, +Vibhishan and ye chiefs, ascend. +A joy beyond all joys the best +Will fill my overflowing breast, +If girt by you, O noble band, +I seek again my native land." +With Vánar lords in danger tried +Sugríva sprang to Ráma's side, +And girt by chiefs of giant kind +Vibhíshan's step was close behind. +Swift through the air, as Ráma chose, +The wondrous car from earth arose. +And decked with swans and silver wings +Bore through the clouds its freight of kings. + + + + +Canto CXXV. The Return. + + +Then Ráma, speeding through the skies, +Bent on the earth his eager eyes: +"Look, Sítá, see, divinely planned +And built by Visvakarmá's hand, +Lanká the lovely city rest +Enthroned on Mount Trikúta's crest +Behold those fields, ensanguined yet, +Where Vánar hosts and giants met. +There, vainly screened by charm and spell, +The robber Rávan fought and fell. +There knelt Mandodarí(1021) and shed +Her tears in floods for Rávan dead. +And every dame who loved him sent +From her sad heart her wild lament. +There gleams the margin of the deep, +Where, worn with toil, we sank to sleep. +Look, love, the unconquered sea behold, +King Varun's home ordained of old, +Whose boundless waters roar and swell +Rich with their store of pearl and shell. +O see, the morning sun is bright +On fair Hiranyanábha's(1022) height, +Who rose from Ocean's sheltering breast +That Hanumán might stay and rest. +There stretches, famed for evermore, +The wondrous bridge from shore to shore. +The worlds, to life's remotest day, +Due reverence to the work shall pay, +Which holier for the lapse of time +Shall give release from sin and crime. +Now thither bend, dear love, thine eyes +Where green with groves Kishkindhá lies, +The seat of King Sugríva's reign, +Where Báli by this hand was slain.(1023) +There Ríshyamúka's hill behold +Bright gleaming with embedded gold. +There too my wandering foot I set, +There King Sugríva first I met. +And, where yon trees their branches wave, +My promise of assistance gave. +There, flushed with lilies, Pampá shines +With banks which greenest foliage lines, +Where melancholy steps I bent +And mourned thee with a mad lament. +There fierce Kabandha, spreading wide +His giant arms, in battle died. +Turn, Sítá, turn thine eyes and see +In Janasthán that glorious tree: +There Rávan, lord of giants slew +Our friend Jatáyus brave and true, +Thy champion in the hopeless strife, +Who gave for thee his noble life. +Now mark that glade amid the trees +Where once we lived as devotees. +See, see our leafy cot between +Those waving boughs of densest green, +Where Rávan seized his prize and stole +My love the darling of my soul. +O, look again: beneath thee gleams +Godávarí the best of streams, +Whose lucid waters sweetly glide +By lilies that adorn her side. +There dwelt Agastya, holy sage, +In plantain-sheltered hermitage. +See Sarabhanga's humble shed +Which sovereign Indra visited. +See where the gentle hermits dwell +Neath Atri's rule who loved us well; +Where once thine eyes were blest to see +His sainted dame who talked with thee. +Now rest thine eyes with new delight +On Chitrakúta's woody height, +See Jumna flashing in the sun +Through groves of brilliant foliage run. +Screened by the shade of spreading boughs. +There Bharadvája keeps his vows, +There Gangá, river of the skies, +Rolls the sweet wave that purifies, +There Sringavera's towers ascend +Where Guha reigns, mine ancient friend. +I see, I see thy glittering spires, +Ayodhyá, city of my sires. +Bow down, bow down thy head, my sweet, +Our home, our long-lost home to greet." + + + + +Canto CXXVI. Bharat Consoled. + + +But Ráma bade the chariot stay, +And halting in his airy way, +In Bharadvája's holy shade +His homage to the hermit paid. +"O saint," he cried, "I yearn to know +My dear Ayodhyá's weal and woe. +O tell me that the people thrive, +And that the queens are yet alive." + + Joy gleamed in Bhardvája's eye, +Who gently smiled and made reply: +"Thy brother, studious of thy will, +Is faithful and obedient still. +In tangled twine he coils his hair: +Thy safe return is all his care. +Before thy shoes he humbly bends, +And to thy house and realm attends. +When first these dreary years began, +When first I saw the banished man, +With Sítá, in his hermit coat, +At this sad heart compassion smote. +My breast with tender pity swelled: +I saw thee from thy home expelled, +Reft of all princely state, forlorn, +A hapless wanderer travel-worn, +Firm in thy purpose to fulfil +Thy duty and thy father's will. +But boundless is my rapture now: +Triumphant, girt with friends, art thou. +Where'er thy wandering steps have been, +Thy joy and woe mine eyes have seen. +Thy glorious deeds to me art known, +The Bráhmans saved, the foes o'erthrown. +Such power have countless seasons spent +In penance and devotion lent. +Thy virtues, best of chiefs, I know, +And now a boon would fain bestow. +This hospitable gift(1024) receive: +Then with the dawn my dwelling leave." +The bended head of Ráma showed +His reverence for the grace bestowed; +Then for each brave companion's sake +He sought a further boon and spake: + + "O let that mighty power of thine +The road to fair Ayodhyá line +With trees where fruit of every hue +The Vánars' eye and taste may woo, +And flowers of every season, sweet +With stores of honeyed juice, may meet." +The hero ceased: the hermit bent +His reverend head in glad assent; +And swift, as Bharadvája willed, +The prayer of Ráma was fulfilled. +For many a league the lengthening road +Trees thick with fruit and blossom showed +With luscious beauty to entice +The taste like trees of Paradise. +The Vánars passed beneath the shade +Of that delightful colonnade, +Still tasting with unbounded glee +The treasures of each wondrous tree. + + + + +Canto CXXVII. Ráma's Message. + + +But Ráma, when he first looked down +And saw afar Ayodhyá's town, +Had called Hanumán to his side, +The chief on whom his heart relied, +And said: "Brave Vánar, good at need, +Haste onward, to Ayodhyá speed, +And learn, I pray, if all be well +With those who in the palace dwell. +But as thou speedest on thy way +Awhile at Sringavera stay. +Tell Guha the Nishádas' lord, +That victor, with my queen restored, +In health and strength with many a friend +Homeward again my steps I bend. +Thence by the road that he will show +On to Ayodhyá swiftly go. +There with my love my brother greet, +And all our wondrous tale repeat. +Say that victorious in the strife +I come with Lakshman and my wife, +Then mark with keenest eye each trace +Of joy or grief on Bharat's face. +Be all his gestures closely viewed, +Each change of look and attitude. +Where breathes the man who will not cling +To all that glorifies a king? +Where beats the heart that can resign +An ancient kingdom, nor repine +To lose a land renowned for breeds +Of elephants and warrior steeds? +If, won by custom day by day, +My brother Bharat thirsts for sway, +Still let him rule the nations, still +The throne of old Ikshváku fill. +Go, mark him well: his feelings learn, +And, ere we yet be near return." + + He ceased: and, garbed in human form, +Forth sped Hanúmán swift as storm. +Sublime in air he rose, and through +The region of his father flew. +He saw far far beneath his feet +Where Gangá's flood and Jumna meet. +Descending from the upper air +He entered Sringavera, where +King Guha's heart was well content +To hear the message Ráma sent. +Then, with his mighty strength renewed, +The Vánar chief his way pursued, +Válúkiní was far behind, +And Gomatí with forests lined, +And golden fields and pastures gay +With flocks and herds beneath him lay. +Then Nandigráma charmed his eye +Where flowers were bright with every dye, +And trees of lovely foliage made +With meeting boughs delightful shade, +Where women watched in trim array +Their little sons' and grandsons' play. +His eager eye on Bharat fell +Who sat before his lonely cell. +In hermit weed, with tangled hair, +Pale, weak, and worn with ceaseless care. +His royal pomp and state resigned +For Ráma still he watched and pined, +Still to his dreary vows adhered, +And royal Ráma's shoes revered. +Yet still the terror of his arm +Preserved the land from fear and harm. + + The Wind-God's son, in form a man, +Raised reverent hands and thus began: +"Fond greeting, Prince, I bring to thee, +And Ráma's self has sent it: he +For whom thy spirit sorrows yet +As for a hapless anchoret +In Dandak wood, in dire distress, +With matted hair and hermit dress. +This sorrow from thy bosom fling, +And hear the tale of joy I bring. +This day thy brother shalt thou meet +Exulting in his foe's defeat, +Freed from his toil and lengthened vow, +The light of victory on his brow, +With Sítá, Lakshman and his friends +Homeward at last his steps he bends." + + Then joy, too mighty for control, +Rushed in full flood o'er Bharat's soul; +His reeling sense and strength gave way, +And fainting on the earth he lay, +At length upspringing from the ground, +His arms about Hanúmán wound, +With tender tears of rapture sprung, +He dewed the neck to which he clung: +"Art thou a God or man," he cried, +"Whom love and pity hither guide? +For this a hundred thousand kine, +A hundred villages be thine. +A score of maids of spotless lives +To thee I give to be thy wives, +Of golden hue and bright of face, +Each lovely for her tender grace." + + He ceased a while by joy subdued, +And then his eager speech renewed. + + + + +Canto CXXVIII. Hanumán's Story. + + +"In doubt and fear long years have passed +And glorious tidings come at last. +True, true is now the ancient verse +Which men in time of bliss rehearse: +"Once only in a hundred years +Great joy to mortal men appears." +But now his woes and triumph tell, +And loss and gain as each befell." +He ceased: Hanúmán mighty-souled +The tale of Ráma's wanderings told +From that first day on which he stood +In the drear shade of Dandak wood. +He told how fierce Virádha fell; +He told of Sarabhanga's cell +Where Ráma saw with wondering eyes +Indra descended from the skies. +He told how Súrpanakhí came, +Her soul aglow with amorous flame, +And fled repulsed, with rage and tears, +Reft of her nose and severed ears. +He told how Ráma's might subdued +The giants' furious multitude; +How Khara with the troops he led +And Trisirás and Dúshan bled: +How Ráma, tempted from his cot, +The golden deer pursued and shot, +And Rávan came and stole away +The Maithil queen his hapless prey, +When, as he fought, the dame to save, +His noble life Jatáyus gave: +How Ráma still the the search renewed, +The robber to his hold pursued, +Bridging the sea from shore to shore, +And found his queen to part no more.(1025) + + + + +Canto CXXIX. The Meeting With Bharat. + + +O'erwhelmed with rapture Bharat heard +The tale that all his being stirred, +And, heralding the glad event, +This order to Satrughna sent: +"Let every shrine with flowers be gay +Let incense burn and music play. +Go forth, go forth to meet your king, +Let tabours sound and minstrels sing, +Let bards swell high the note of praise +Skilled in the lore of ancient days, +Call forth the royal matrons: call +Each noble from the council hall. +Send all we love and honour most, +Send Bráhmans and the warrior host, +A glorious company to bring +In triumph home our lord the king." + + Great rapture filled Satrughna's breast, +Obedient to his brother's hest. +"Send forth ten thousand men" he cried, +"Let brawny arms be stoutly plied, +And, smoothing all with skilful care, +The road for Kosal's king prepare. +Then o'er the earth let thousands throw +Fresh showers of water cool as snow, +And others strew with garlands gay +With loveliest blooms our monarch's way. +On tower and temple porch and gate +Let banners wave in royal state, +And be each roof and terrace lined +With blossoms loose and chaplets twined." + + The nobles hasting forth fulfilled +His order as Satrughna willed. +Sublime on elephants they rode +Whose gilded girths with jewels glowed. +Attended close by thousands more +Gay with the gear and flags they bore. +A thousand chiefs their steeds bestrode, +Their glittering cars a thousand showed. +And countless hosts in rich array +Pursued on foot their eager way. +Veiled from the air with silken screens +In litters rode the widowed queens. +Kausalyá first, acknowledged head +And sovereign of the household, led: +Sumitrá next, and after, dames +Of lower rank and humbler names. +Then compassed by a white-robed throng +Of Bráhmans, heralded with song, +With shouts of joy from countless throats, +And shells' and tambours' mingled notes, +And drums resounding long and loud, +Exulting Bharat joined the crowd. +Still on his head, well-trained in lore +Of duty, Ráma's shoes he bore. +The moon-white canopy was spread +With flowery twine engarlanded, +And jewelled cheuries, meet to hold +O'er Ráma's brow, shone bright with gold, +Though Nandigráma's town they neared, +Of Ráma yet no sign appeared. +Then Bharat called the Vánar chief +And questioned thus in doubt and grief: +"Hast thou uncertain, like thy kind, +A sweet delusive guile designed? +Where, where is royal Ráma? show +The hero, victor of the foe. +I gaze, but see no Vánars still +Who wear each varied shape at will." + + In eager love thus Bharat cried, +And thus the Wind-God's son replied: +"Look, Bharat, on those laden trees +That murmur with the song of bees; +For Ráma's sake the saint has made +Untimely fruits, unwonted shade. +Such power in ages long ago +Could Indra's gracious boon bestow. +O, hear the Vánars' voices, hear +The shouting which proclaims them near. +E'en now about to cross they seem +Sweet Gomatí's delightful stream. +I see, I see the car designed +By Brahmá's own creative mind, +The car which, radiant as the moon, +Moves at the will by Brahmá's boon; +The car which once was Rávan's pride, +The victor's spoil when Rávan died. +Look, there are Raghu's sons: between +The brothers stands the rescued queen. +There is Vibhishan full in view, +Sugríva and his retinue." + + He ceased: then rapture loosed each tongue: +From men and dames, from old and young, +One long, one universal cry, +'Tis he, 'tis Ráma, smote the sky. +All lighted down with eager speed +From elephant and car and steed, +And every joyful eye intent +On Ráma's moonbright face was bent. +Entranced a moment Bharat gazed: +Then reverential hands he raised, +And on his brother humbly pressed +The honours due to welcome guest. +Then Bharat clomb the car to greet +His king and bowed him at his feet, +Till Ráma raised him face to face +And held him in a close embrace. +Then Lakshman and the Maithil dame +He greeted as he spoke his name(1026) +He greeted next, supreme in place, +The sovereign of the Vánar race, +And Jámbaván and Báli's son, +And lords and chiefs, omitting none.(1027) +Sugríva to his heart he pressed +And thus with grateful words addressed: +"Four brothers, Vánar king, were we, +And now we boast a fifth in thee. +By kindly acts a friend we know: +Offence and wrong proclaim the foe." +To King Vibhishan then he spake: +"Well hast thou fought for Ráma's sake." +Nor was the brave Satrughna slow +His reverential love to show +To both his brothers, as was meet, +And venerate the lady's feet. +Then Ráma to his mother came, +Saw her pale cheek and wasted frame, +With gentle words her heart consoled, +And clasped her feet with loving hold. +Then at Sumitrá's feet he bent, +And fair Kaikeyí's, reverent, +Greeted each dame from chief to least, +And bowed him to the household priest. +Up rose a shout from all the throng: +"O welcome, Ráma, mourned so long. +Welcome, Kausalyá's joy and pride," +Ten hundred thousand voices cried. +Then Bharat placed, in duty taught, +On Ráma's feet the shoes he brought: +"My King," he cried, "receive again +The pledge preserved through years of pain, +The rule and lordship of the land +Entrusted to my weaker hand. +No more I sigh o'er sorrows past, +My birth and life are blest at last +In the glad sight this day has shown, +When Ráma comes to rule his own." + + He ceased: the faithful love that moved +The prince's soul each heart approved; +Nor could the Vánar chiefs refrain +From tender tears that fell like rain. +Then Ráma, stirred with joy anew, +His arms about his brother threw, +And to the grove his course he bent +Where Bharat's hermit days were spent. +Alighting in that pure retreat +He pressed the earth with eager feet. +Then, at his hest, the car rose high +And sailing through the northern sky +Sped homeward to the Lord of Gold +Who owned the wondrous prize of old.(1028) + + + + +Canto CXXX. The Consecration. + + +Then, reverent hand to hand applied, +Thus Bharat to his brother cried: +"Thy realm, O King, is now restored, +Uninjured to the rightful lord. +This feeble arm with toil and pain, +The weighty charge could scarce sustain. +And the great burthen wellnigh broke +The neck untrained to bear the yoke. +The royal swan outspeeds the crow: +The steed is swift, the mule is slow, +Nor can my feeble feet be led +O'er the rough ways where thine should tread. +Now grant what all thy subjects ask: +Begin, O King, thy royal task. +Now let our longing eyes behold +The glorious rite ordained of old, +And on the new-found monarch's head +Let consecrating drops be shed." + + He ceased; victorious Ráma bent +His head in token of assent. +He sat, and tonsors trimmed with care +His tangles of neglected hair +Then, duly bathed, the hero shone +With all his splendid raiment on. +And Sítá with the matrons' aid +Her limbs in shining robes arrayed, +Sumantra then, the charioteer, +Drew, ordered by Satrughna near, +And stayed within the hermit grove +The chariot and the steeds he drove. +Therein Sugríva's consorts, graced +With gems, and Ráma's queen were placed, +All fain Ayodhyá to behold: +And swift away the chariot rolled. +Like Indra Lord of Thousand Eyes, +Drawn by fleet lions through the skies. +Thus radiant in his glory showed +King Ráma as he homeward rode, +In power and might unparalleled. +The reins the hand of Bharat held. +Above the peerless victor's head +The snow-white shade Satrughna spread, +And Lakshman's ever-ready hand +His forehead with a chourie fanned. +Vibhishan close to Lakshman's side +Sharing his task a chourie plied. +Sugríva on Satrunjay came, +An elephant of hugest frame: +Nine thousand others bore, behind, +The chieftains of the Vánar kind +All gay, in forms of human mould, +With rich attire and gems and gold. +Thus borne along in royal state +King Ráma reached Ayodbyá's gate +With merry noise of shells and drums +And joyful shouts, He comes, he comes, +A Bráhman host with solemn tread, +And kine the long procession led, +And happy maids in ordered bands +Threw grain and gold with liberal hands. +Neath gorgeous flags that waved in rows +On towers and roofs and porticoes. +Mid merry crowds who sang and cheered +The palace of the king they neared. +Then Raghu's son to Bharat, best +Of duty's slaves, these words addressed: +"Pass onward to the monarch's hall. +The high-souled Vánars with thee call, +And let the chieftains, as is meet, +The widows of our father greet. +And to the Vánar king assign +Those chambers, best of all, which shine +With lazulite and pearl inlaid, +And pleasant grounds with flowers and shade." + + He ceased: and Bharat bent his head; +Sugríva by the hand he led +And passed within the palace where +Stood couches which Satrughna's care, +With robes and hangings richly dyed, +And burning lamps, had seen supplied. +Then Bharat spake: "I pray thee, friend, +Thy speedy messengers to send, +Each sacred requisite to bring +That we may consecrate our king." +Sugríva raised four urns of gold, +The water for the rite to hold, +And bade four swiftest Vánars flee +And fill them from each distant sea. +Then east and west and south and north +The Vánar envoys hastened forth. +Each in swift flight an ocean sought +And back through air his treasure brought, +And full five hundred floods beside +Pure water for the king supplied. +Then girt by many a Bráhman sage, +Vasishtha, chief for reverend age, +High on a throne with jewels graced +King Ráma and his Sítá placed. +There by Jábáli, far revered, +Vijay and Kasyap's son appeared; +By Gautam's side Kátváyan stood, +And Vámadeva wise and good, +Whose holy hands in order shed +The pure sweet drops on Ráma's head. +Then priests and maids and warriors, all +Approaching at Vasishtha's call, +With sacred drops bedewed their king, +The centre of a joyous ring, +The guardians of the worlds, on high, +And all the children of the sky +From herbs wherewith their hands were filled +Rare juices on his brow distilled. +His brows were bound with glistering gold +Which Manu's self had worn of old, +Bright with the flash of many a gem +His sire's ancestral diadem. +Satrughna lent his willing aid +And o'er him held the regal shade: +The monarchs whom his arm had saved +The chouries round his forehead waved. +A golden chain, that flashed and glowed +With gems the God of Wind bestowed: +Mahendra gave a glorious string +Of fairest pearls to deck the king, +The skies with acclamation rang, +The gay nymphs danced, the minstrels sang. +On that blest day the joyful plain +Was clothed anew with golden grain. +The trees the witching influence knew, +And bent with fruits of loveliest hue, +And Ráma's consecration lent +New sweetness to each flowret's scent. +The monarch, joy of Raghu's line, +Gave largess to the Bráhmans, kine +And steeds unnumbered, wealth untold +Of robes and pearls and gems and gold. +A jewelled chain, whose lustre passed +The glory of the sun, he cast +About his friend Sugríva's neck; +And, Angad Báli's son to deck, +He gave a pair of armlets bright +With diamond and lazulite. +A string of pearls of matchless hue +Which gleams like tender moonlight threw +Adorned with gems of brightest sheen, +He gave to grace his darling queen. +The offering from his hand received +A moment on her bosom heaved; +Then from her neck the chain she drew, +A glance on all the Vánars threw, +And wistful eyes on Ráma bent +As still she held the ornament. +Her wish he knew, and made reply +To that mute question of her eye: +"Yea, love; the chain on him bestow +Whose wisdom truth and might we know, +The firm ally, the faithful friend +Through toil and peril to the end." + + Then on Hanúmán's bosom hung +The chain which Sítá's hand had flung: +So may a cloud, when winds are still +With moon-lit silver gird a hill. + + To every Vánar Ráma gave +Rich treasures from the mine and wave. +And with their honours well content +Homeward their steps the chieftains bent. +Ten thousand years Ayodhyá, blest +With Ráma's rule, had peace and rest, +No widow mourned her murdered mate, +No house was ever desolate. +The happy land no murrain knew, +The flocks and herds increased and grew. +The earth her kindly fruits supplied, +No harvest failed, no children died. +Unknown were want, disease, and crime: +So calm, so happy was the time.(1029) + + + + + +APPENDIX. + + + + +Section XIII. Rávan Doomed. + + +Afterwards Rishyasring said again to the King "I will perform another +sacrificial act to secure thee a son." Then the son of Vibhándak, of +subdued passions, seeking the happiness of the king, proceeded to perform +the sacrifice for the accomplishment of his wishes. Hither were previously +collected the gods, with the Gandharvas, the Siddhas and the sages, for +the sake of receiving their respective shares, Brahmá too, the sovereign +of the gods, with Sthánu, and Náráyana, chief of beings and the four +supporters of the universe, and the divine mothers of all the celestials, +met together there. To the Asvamedha, the great sacrifice of the +magnanimous monarch, came also Indra the glorious one, surrounded by the +Maruts. Rishyasring then supplicated the gods assembled for their share of +the sacrifice (saying), "This devout king Dasaratha, who, through the +desire of offspring, confiding in you, has performed sacred austerities, +and who has offered to you the sacrifice called Asvamedha, is about to +perform another sacrifice for the sake of obtaining sons: To him thus +desirous of offspring be pleased to grant the blessing: I supplicate you +all with joined hands. May he have four sons, renowned through the +universe." The gods replied to the sage's son supplicating with joined +hands, "Be it so: thou, O Bráhman, art ever to be regarded by us, as the +king is in a peculiar manner. The lord of men by this sacrifice shall +obtain the great object of his desires." Having thus said, the gods +preceded by Indra, disappeared. + +They all then having seen that (sacrifice) performed by the great sage +according to the ordinance went to Prajápati the lord of mankind, and with +joined hands addressed Brahmá the giver of blessings, "O Brahmá, the +Ráksha Rávana by name, to whom a blessing was awarded by thee, through +pride troubleth all of us the gods, and even the great sages, who +perpetually practise sacred austerities. We, O glorious one, regarding the +promise formerly granted by thy kindness that he should be invulnerable to +the gods, the Dánavas and the Yakshas have born (_sic_) all, (his +oppression); this lord of Rákshas therefore distresses the universe; and, +inflated by this promise unjustly vexes the divine sages, the Yakshas, and +Gandharvas, the Asuras, and men: where Rávana remains there the sun loses +his force, the winds through fear of him do not blow; the fire ceases to +burn; the rolling ocean, seeing him, ceases to move its waves. Visravas, +distressed by his power, has abandoned Lanká and fled. O divine one save +us from Rávana, who fills the world with noise and tumult. O giver of +desired things, be pleased to contrive a way for his destruction." + +Brahmá thus informed by the devas, reflecting, replied, "Oh! I have +devised the method for slaying this outrageous tyrant. Upon his +requesting, 'May I be invulnerable to the divine sages, the Gaundharvas, +the Yakshas, the Rákshasas and the serpents,' I replied 'Be it so.' This +Ráksha, through contempt, said nothing respecting man; therefore this +wicked one shall be destroyed by man." The gods, preceded by Sakra, +hearing these words spoken by Brahmá, were filled with joy. + +At this time Vishnu the glorious, the lord of the world, arrayed in +yellow, with hand ornaments of glowing gold, riding on Vinateya, as the +sun on a cloud, arrived with his conch, his discus, and his club in his +hand. Being adored by the excellent celestials, and welcomed by Brahmá, he +drew near and stood before him. All the gods then addressed Vishnu, "O +Madhusudana, thou art able to abolish the distress of the distressed. We +intreat thee, be our sanctuary, O Vishnu." Vishnu replied, "Say, what +shall I do?" The celestials hearing these his words added further. "The +virtuous, the encourager of excellence, eminent for truth, the firm +observer of his vows, being childless, is performing an Asvamedha for the +purpose of obtaining offspring. For the sake of the good of the universe, +we intreat thee, O Vishnu, to become his son. Dividing thyself into four +parts, in the wombs of his three consorts equal to Hari, Srí, and Kirti, +assume the sonship of king Dasaratha, the lord of Ayodhyá, eminent in the +knowledge of duty, generous and illustrious, as the great sages. Thus +becoming man, O Vishnu, conquer in battle Rávana, the terror of the +universe, who is invulnerable to the gods. This ignorant Rákshasa Rávana, +by the exertion of his power, afflicts the gods, the Gandharvaa, the +Siddhas, and the most excellent sages; these sages, the Gandharvas, and +the Apsaras, sporting in the forest Nandana have been destroyed by that +furious one. We, with the sages, are come to thee seeking his destruction. +The Siddhas, the Gandharvas, and the Yakshas betake themselves to thee, +thou art our only refuge; O Deva, afflicter of enemies, regard the world +of men, and destroy the enemy of the gods." + +Vishnu, the sovereign of the gods, the chief of the celestials, adored by +all beings, being thus supplicated, replied to all the assembled gods +(standing) before Brahmá, "Abandon fear; peace be with you; for your +benefit having killed Rávana the cruel, destructively active, the cause of +fear to the divine sages, together with all his posterity, his courtiers +and counsellors, and his relations, and friends, protecting the earth, I +will remain incarnate among men for the space of eleven thousand years." + +Having given this promise to the gods, the divine Vishnu, ardent in the +work, sought a birth-place among men. Dividing himself into four parts, he +whose eyes resemble the lotus and the pulasa, the lotus petal-eyed, chose +for his father Dasaratha the sovereign of men. The divine sages then with +the Gandharvas, the Rudras, and the (different sorts of) Apsaras, in the +most excellent strains, praised the destroyer of Madhu, (saying) "Root up +Rávana, of fervid energy, the devastator, the enemy of Indra swollen with +pride. Destroy him, who causes universal lamentation, the annoyer of the +holy ascetics, terrible, the terror of the devout Tapaswis. Having +destroyed Rávana, tremendously powerful, who causes universal weeping, +together with his army and friends, dismissing all sorrow, return to +heaven, the place free from stain and sin, and protected by the sovereign +of the celestial powers." + +Thus far the Section, containing the plan for the death of Rávan. + +CAREY AND MARSHMAN. + + + + +Caput XIV. RATIO NECANDI RAVANAE EXCOGITATA. + + +Prudens ille, voluminum sacrorum gnarus, responsum quod dederat aliquamdiu +meditatus, mente ad se revocata regem deuno est effatus: Parabo tibi aliud +sacrum, genitale, prolis masculae adipiscendae gratia, cum carminibus in +ATHARVANIS exordio expressis rite peragendum. Tum coepit modestus +Vibhândaci filius, regis commodis intentus, parare sacrum, quo eius +desiderium expleret. Iam'antea eo convenerant, ut suam quisque portionem +acciperent, Dî cum fidicinum coelestium choris, Beatique cum Sapientibus; +Brachman Superûm regnator, Sthânus nec non augustus Nârâyanus, Indrasque +almus, coram visendus Ventorum cohorte circumdatus, in magno isto +sacrificio equino regis magnanimi. Ibidem vates ille deos, qui portiones +suas accipiendi gratia advenerant, apprecatus, En inquit, hicce ex +Dasarathus filiorum desiderio castimoniis adstrictus, fidei plenus, +vestrum numen adoravit sacrificio equino. Nunc iterum accingit se ad aliud +sacrum peragendum: quamobrem aequum est, ut filios cupienti vos faveatis. +Ille ego, qui manus supplices tendo, vos universos pro eo apprecor: +nascantur ei filii quatuor, faina per triplicem mundum clari. Divi +supplicem vatis filium invicem affari: Fiat quod petis! Tu nobis, +virsancte, imprimis es venerandus, nee minus rex ille; compos fiet voti +sui egregii hominum princeps. Ita locuti Dî Indra duce, ex oculis +evanuerunt. + +Superi vero, legitime in concilio congregati. BRACHMANEM mundi creatorem +his verbis compellarunt: Tuo munere auctus, O Brachman! gigas nomine +Râvanas, prae superbia nos omnes vexat, pariterque Sapientes castimoniis +gaudentes. A te propitio olim ex voto ei hoc munus concessum fuit, ut ne a +diis, Danuidis, Geniisve necari posset. Nos, oraculum tuum reveriti, +facinora eius qualiacunque toleramus. At ille gigantum tyrannus ternos +mundos gravibus iniuriis vexat Deos, Sapientes, Genios, Fidicines +coelestes, Titanes, mortales denique, exsuperat ille aegre cohibendus, +tuoque munere demens. Non ibi calet sol, neque Ventus prae timore spirat, +nee flagrat ignis, ubi Râvanas versatur. Ipse oceanus, vagis fluctibus +redimitus, isto viso stat immotus; eiectus fuit e sede sua Cuvêrus, huius +robore vexatus. Ergo ingens nobis periculum imminet ab hoc gigante visu +horribili; tuum est, alme Parens! auxilium parare, quo hic deleatur. Ita +admonitus ille a diis universis, paulisper meditatus, Ehem! inquit, hancce +inveni rationem nefarium istum necandi. Petierat is a me, ut a Gandharvis, +a Geniis, a Divis, Danuibus Gigantibusque necari non posset et me annuente +voto suo potitus est. Prae contemptu vero monstrum illud homines non +commemoravit: ideo ab homine est necandus: nullum aliud exstat leti genus, +quod ei sit fatale. Postquam audiverant gratum hunc sermonem BRACHMANIS +ore prolatum, Dî cum duce suo Indra summopere gaudio erecti sunt. Eodem +temporis momento Vishnus, istuc accessit, splendore insignis, concham, +discum et clavum manibus gestans, croceo vestitu, mundi dominus, vulturis +Vinateii dorso, sicuti sol nimbo, vectus, armillas ex auro candente +gerens, salutatus a Superûm primoribus. Quem laudibus celebratum +reverenter Dî universi compellarunt. Tu animantium afflictorum es vindex, +Madhûs interfector! quamobrem nos afflicti te apprecamur. Sis praesidio +nobis numine tuo inconcusso. Dicite, inquit Vishnus, quid pro vobis facere +me oporteat. Audito eius sermone, Dî hunc in modum respondent: Rex quidam, +nomine Dasarathus, austeris castimoniis sese castigavit, litavit +sacrificio equino, prolis cupidus et prole carens. Nostro hortatu tu, +Vishnus, conditionem natorum eius subeas: ex tribus eius uxoribus, +Pudicitiae, Venustatis et Famae similibus, nasci, velis, temetipsum +quadrifariam dividens. Ibi tu in humanam naturam conversus Râvanam, +gravissimam mundi pestem, diis insuperabilem, O Vishnus! proelio caede. +Gigas ille vecors Râvanas Deos cum Fidicinum choris, Beatos et Sapientes +praestantissimos vexat, audacia superbiens. Etenim ab hoc furioso +Sapientes Fidicines et nymphae, ludentes in Nandano viridario, sunt +proculcati. Tu es nostrum omnium summa salus, divine bellator! Ut deoram +hostes extinguas, ad sortem humanam animum converte. Augustus ille +Nârâyanus, diis hunc in modum coram hortantibus, eosdem apto hoc sermone +compellavit: Quare, quaeso, hac in re negotium vestrum a me potissimum, +corporea specie palam facto, est peragendum aut unde tantus vobis terror +fuit iniectus? His verbis a Vishnû interrogati Dî talia proferre: Terror +nobis instat, O Vishnus! a Râvana mundi direptore; a quo nos vindicare, +corpore humano assumpto, tuum est. Nemo alius coelicoiarum praeter te hunc +scelestum enecare potis est. Nimirum ille, O hostium domitor! per +diuturnum tempus sese excruciaverat severissima abstinentia, qua magnus +hicce rerum Parens propitius ipsi redditus est. Itaque almus votorum +sponsor olim ei concessit securitatem ab ommibus animantibus, hominibus +tamen exceptis. Hinc ilium, voti compotem, non aliunde quam ab homine +necis periculum urget: tu ergo, humanitate assumpta eum intertice. Sic +monitus Vishnus, Superûm princeps, quem mundus universus adorat, magnum +Parentem oeterosque deos, in concilio congregatos, recti auctores, +affatur: Mittite timorem; bene bobis eveniat! Vestrae salutis gratia, +postquam praelio necavero Râvanam cum filiis nepotibusque, cum amicis, +ministris, cognatis sociisque, crudelem istum aegre cohibendum, qui +divinis Sapientibus terrorem meutit, per decem millia annorum decies +centenis additis, commorabor in mortalium sedibus, orbem terrarum imperio +regens. Tum divini sapientes et Fidicines conjuncti cum Rudris +nympharumque choris celebravere Madhûs interfectorem hymnis, quales sedem +aetheriam decent. + +"Râvanam ilium insolentem, acri impetu actum, superbia elatum, Superûm +hostem, tumultus cientem, bonorum piorumque pestem, humanitate assumpta +pessamdare tuum est." + +SCHLEGEL. + + + + +Caput XIV. IL MEZZO STABILITO PER UCCIDERE RÁVANO. + + +Ma Riseyasringo soggiunse poscia al re: Tappresterò io un altro rito +santissimo, genitale, onde tu conseguisca la prole che tu bramí. E in quel +punto stesso il saggio figliulo di Vibhândaco, intento alla prosperità del +re, pose mano al sacro rito per condurre ad effetto il suo desiderio. Già +erano prima, per ricevere ciascuno la sua parte, qui convenuti al gran +sacrifizio del re magnanimo l'Asvamedha, i Devi coi Gandharvi, i Siddhi e +i Muni, Brahma Signor dei Sari, Sthânu e l' Augusto Nârâyana, i quattio +custodi dell' universo e le Madri degli Iddu, i Yacsi insieme cogli Dei, e +il sovrano, venerando Indra, visibile, circondato dalla schiera dei +Maruti. Quivi così parlò Riscyasringo agli Dei venuti a partecipare del +sacrifizio: Questo è il re Dasaratha, che per desiderio di progenie già s' +astrinse ad osservanze austeré, e testè pieno di fede ha a voi, O eccelsi, +sacrificato con un Asvamedha. Ora egli, sollecito d' aver figli, si +dispone ad adempiere un nuovo rito; vogliate essere favorevole a lui che +sospira progenie. Io alzo a voi supplici le mani, e voi tutti per lui +imploro: nascano a lui quattro figli degni d'essere celebrati pei tre +mondi. Risposero gli Dei al supplichevole figliuolo del Risci: Sia fatto +ciò che chiedi; a te ed al re parimente si debbe da noi, O Brahmano, sommo +pregio; canseguirà il re per questo sacro rito il suo suppremo desiderio. +Ciò detto disparvero i Numi preceduti da Indra. + +Poichè videro gli Dei compiersi debitamente dal gran Risci l'oblazione, +venuti al cospetto di Brahma facitor del mondo, signor delle creature, +così parlarono reverenti a lui dator di grazie: O Brahma, un Racsaso per +nome Râvano, eui tu fosti largo del tuo favore, è per superbia infesto a +noi tutti e ai grandi Saggi penitenti. Un di, O Nume, augusto, tu propizio +a lui gli accordasti il favore, ch' egli bramava, di non poter essere +ucciso dagli Dei, dai Dânavi nè dai Yacsi: noi venerando i tuoi oracoli, +ogni cosa sopportiamo da costui. Quindi il signor dei Racsasi infesta con +perpetue offese i tre mondi, i Devi, i Risci, i Yacsi ed i Gandharvi, gli +Asuri e gli uomini: tutti egli opprime indegnamente inorgoglito pel tuo +dono. Colà dove si trova Râvano, più non isfavilla per timore il sole, più +non spira il vento, più non fiammeggia il fuoco: l' oceano stesso cui fan +corona i vasti flutti, veggendo costui, tutto si turba e si commuove. +Stretto dalla forza di costui e ridotto allo stremo dovette Vaisravano +abbandonare Lancâ. Da questo Râvano, terror del mondo, tu ne proteggi, O +almo Nume: degna, O dator d'ogni bene, trovar modo ad estirpar costui. +Fatto di queste cose conscio dai Devi, stette alquanto meditando, poi +rispose Brahma: Orsù! è stabilito il modo onde distruggere questo iniquo. +Egli a me chiese, ed io gliel concessi, di non poter essere ucciso dai +Devi, dai Risci, dai Gandharvi, dai Yacsi, dai Racsasi nè dai Serpenti; ma +per disprezzo non fece menzione degli uomini quel Racso: or bene, sarà +quell' empio ucciso da un uomo. Udite le fauste parole profferte da +Brahma, furono per ogni parte liete gli Iddii col loro duce Indra. In +questo mezzo quì sopravvenne raggiante d'immensa luce il venerando Visnu, +pensato da Brahma nell' immortal sua mente, siccome atto ad estirpar +colui; Allora Brahma colla schiera de' Celesti così parlò a Visnu: Tu sei +il conforto delle gente oppresse, O distruttor di Madhu: noi quindi a te +supplichiamo afflitti: sia tu nostro sostegno, O Aciuto. Dite, loro +rispose Visnu, quale cosa io debba far per voi; e gli Dei, udite queste +parole, cosi soggiunsero: Un re per nome Dasaratha, giusto, virtuoso, +veridico e pio, non ha progenie e la desidera: ei già s' impose durissime +penitenze, ed ora ha sacrificato con un Asvamedha: tu, per nostro +consiglio, O Visnu, consenti a divenir suo figlio: fatte di te quattro +parti, ti manifesta, O invocato dalle genti, nel seno delle quattro sue +consorti, simili alla venusta Dea. Così esortato dagli Dei quivi presenti, +l'augusto Nârâyana loro rispose queste opportune parole: Quale opra s'ha +da me, fatto visible nel mondo, a compiere per voi, O Devi? e d'onde in +voi cotal terrore? Intese le parole di Visnu, così risposero gli Dei: Il +nostro terrore. O Visnu, nasce da un Racsaso per nome Râvano, spavento +dell' universo. Vestendo umano corpo, tu debbi esterminar costui. Nessuno +fra i Celesti, fuorchè tu solo, è valevole ad uccidere quell' iniquo. +Egli, O domator de' tuoi nemici, sostenne per lungo tempo acerbissime +macerazioni: per esse fu di lui contento l'augusto sommo Genitore: e un di +gli accordò propizio la sicurezza da tutti gli esseri, eccettutine gli +uomini. Per questo favore a lui concesso nou ha egli a temere offesa da +alcuna parte, fuorchè dall' uomo, perciò, assumendo la natura umana, +costui tu uccidi. Egli, il peggior di tutti i Racsasi, insano per la forza +che gli infonde il dono avuto, da travaglio ai Devi ed ai Gaudharvi, ai +Risci, ai Muni ed ai mortali. Egli, sicuro da morte pel favore ottenuto, è +turbatore dei sacrifizj, nemico ed uccisor dei Brahmi, divoratore degli +uomini, peste del mondo. Da lui furono assaliti re coi loro carri ed +elefanti; altri percessi e fugati si dispersero per ogni dove. Da lui +furono divorati Risci ed Apsarase: egli insomma oltracotato continuamente +e quasi per ischerzo tutti travaglia i sette mondi. Perciò, O terribile ai +nemici è stabilita la morte di costui per opra d'un uomo; poich' un di per +superbia del dono tutti sprezzò gli uomini. Tu, O supremo fra i Numi, dei, +umanandoti, estirpare questo tremendo, superbo Ràvano, oltracotato, a noi +nemico, terrore e flagello dei penitenti. + +GORRESIO. + + + + +XIV. + + +De nouveau Rishyaçringa tint ce langage au Monarque: "Je vais célébrer un +autre sacrifice, afin que le ciel accorde à tes voeux les enfants que tu +souhaites." Cela dit, cherchant le bonheur du roi et pour +l'accomplissement de son désir, le fils puissant de Vibhándaka se mit à +célébrer ce nouveau sacrifice. + +Là auparavant, étaient venus déjà recevoir une part de l' offrande les +Dieux, accompagnés des Gaudharvas, et les Siddhas avec les Mounis divins, +Brahma, le monarque des Souras, l' immuable Siva, et l' auguste Náráyana, +et les quatre gardiens vigilants du monde, et les mères des Immortels, et +tous les Dieux, escortés des Yakshas, et le maître éminent du ciel, Indra, +qui se manifestait aux yeux, environné par l' essaim des Maroutes. Alors +ce jeune anachorète avait supplié tous les Dieux, que le désir d'une part +dans l' offrande avait conduits á l' açwamédha, cette grande cérémonie de +ce roi magnanime; _et, dans ce moment, l' époux de Sántá les conjurait +ainsi pour la seconde fois_: "Cet homme _en prières_, c'est le roi +Daçaratha, qui est privé de fils. Il est rempli d' une foi vive; il s'est +infligé de pénibles austérités; il vous a déjà servi, divinités augustes, +le sacrifice d'un açwa-médha, et maintenant il s'étudie encore à vous +plaire avec ce nouveau sacrifice dans l'espérance que vous lui donnerez +les fils, où tendent ses désirs. Versez donc sur lui votre bienveillance +et daignez sourire à son voeu pour des fils. C'est pour lui que moi ici, +les mains jointes, je vous adresse à tous mes supplications: envoyez-lui +quatre fils, qui soient vantés dans les trois mondes!" + +"Ouí! répondirent les Dieux au fils suppliant du rishi; tu mérites que +nous t'écoutions avec faveur, toi, brahme saint, et même, en premier lieu, +ce roi. Comme récompense de ces différents sacrifices, le monarque +obtendra cet objet le plus cher de ses désirs." + +Ayant aussi parlé et vu que le grand saint avait mis fin suivant les rites +à son _pieux_ sacrifice, les Dieux, Indra à leur tête, s'évanouissent dans +le vide des airs et se rendent vers l' architecte des mondes, le souverain +des créatures, le donateur des biens, vers Brahma enfin, auquel tous, les +mains jointes, ils adressent les paroles suivantes: "O Brahma, un +rakshasa, nommé Râvana, tourne su mal les grâces, qu'il a reçues de toi. +Dans son orgueil, il nous opprime tous; il opprime avec nous les grands +anchorètes, qui se font un bonheur des macérations: car jadis, ayant su te +plaire, O Bhagavat, il a reçu de toi ce don incomparable. 'Oui, as-tu dit, +exauçant le voeu du mauvais Génie; Dieu. Yaksha ou Démon ne pourra jamais +causer ta mort!' Et nous, par qui ta parole est respectée, nous avons tout +supporté de ce roi des rakshasas, qui écrase de sa tyrannie les trois +mondes, ou il promène l' injure impunément. Enorgueilli de ce don +victorieux, il opprime indignement les Dieux, les rishis, les Yakshas, les +Gandharvas, les Asouras et les enfants de Manou. Là ou se tient Râvana, la +peur empêche le soleil d'échauffer, le vent craint de souffler, et le feu +n'ose flamboyer. A son aspect, la guirlande même des grands flots tremble +au sein de la mer. Accablé par sa vigueur indomptable, Kouvéra défait lui +a cédé Lanká. Suave-nous donc, ô toi, qui reposes daus le bonheur absolu; +sauve-nous de Râvana, le fléau des mondes. Daigne, ô toi, qui souris aux +voeux du suppliant, daigne imaginer un expedient pour ôter la vie à ce +cruel Démon." Les Dieux ayant ainsi dénoncé leurs maux à Brahma, il +réfléchit un instant et leur tint ce langage: "Bien, voici que j'ai +découvert un moyen pour tuer ce Génie scélérat. Que ni les Dieux, a-t-il +dit, ni les rishis, ni les Gandharvas ni les Yakshas, ni les rakshasas, ni +les Nágas même ne puissent me donner la mort! Soit lui ai-je répondu. +Mais, par dédain pour la force humaine, les hommes n'ont pas été compris +daus sa demande. C'est donc par la main d' un homme, qu'il faut immoler ce +méchant." Ainsi tombée de la bouche du créateur, cette parole salutaire +satisfit pleinement le roi des habitants du ciel et tous les Dieux avec +lui. Lá, dans ce même instant, survint le fortuné Visnou, revêtu d' une +splendeur infinie; car c'était a lui, que Brahma avait pensé dans son âme +pour la mort du tyran. Celui-ci donc avec l'essaim des Immortels adresse à +Vishnou ces paroles: "Meurtrier de Madhou, comme tu aimes á tirer de +l'affliction les êtres malheureux, nous te supplions, nous qui sommes +plongés dans la tristesse, Divinité auguste, sois notre asyle!" "Dites! +reprit Vishnou; que dois-je faire?" "Ayant oui les paroles de l'ineffable, +tous les Dieux repondirent: Il est un roi nommé Daçaratha; il a embrassé +une très-duré pénitence; il a célébré même le sacrifice d'un açwa-medha, +parce qu'il n'a point de fils et qu'il veut en obtenir du ciel. Il est +inébranlable dans sa piété, il est vanté pour ses vertus; la justice est +son caractère, la verite est sa parole. Acquiesce donc à notre demande, ô +toi, Vishnou, et consens à naître comme son fils. Divisé en quatre +portions de toi-même, daigne, ô toi, qui foules aux pieds tes ennemis, +daigne t' incarner dans le sein de ses trois épouses, belles comme la +déesse de la beauté." Náráyana, le maître, _non perceptible aux sens, mais +qui alors s' était rendu_ visible, Náráyana répondit cette parole +salutaire aux Dieux, qui i invitaient à cet _heroique avatára_. Quelle +chose, une fois revêtu de cette incarnation, faudra-t-il encore que je +fasse pour vous, et de quelle part vient la terreur, qui vous trouble +ainsi? A ces mots du grand Vishnou: "C'est le démon Rávana, reprirent les +Dieux; c'est lui, Vishnou, cette désolation des mondes, qui nous inspire +un tel effroi. Enveloppe-toi d'un corps, humain, et qu'il te plaise +arrâcher du monde cette blessante epine; car nul autre que toi parmi les +habitants du ciel n'est capable d'immoler ce pécheur. _Sache que_ +longtemps il s'est imposé la plus austére pénitence, et _que_ par elle il +s'est rendu agreable au suprême ayeul de toutes les créatures. Aussi le +distributeur ineffable des gràces lui a-t-il accordé ce don insigne d'être +invulnérable à tous les êtres, l' homme seul excepté. Puisque, doué ainsi +de cette faveur, la mort terrible et sûre ne peut venir à lui de nulle +autre part que de l'homme, va, dompteur _puissant_ de tes ennemis, va dans +la condition humaine, et tue-le. Car ce don, auquel on ne peut résister, +élevant au plus haut point l'ivresse de sa force, le vil rakshasa +tourmente les Dieux, les rishis, les Gandharvas, les hommes sanctifiés par +la pénitence; et, quoique, destructeur des sacrifices, lacérateur des +Saintes Ecritures, ennemi des brahmes, dévorateur des hommes, cette faveur +incomparable sauve de la mort Rávana le triste fléau des mondes. Il ose +attaquer les rois, que défendant les chars de guerre, que remparent les +élephants: d'autres blessés et mis en fuite, sont dissipés ça et là devant +lui. Il a dévoré des saints, il a dévoré même une foule d'apsaras. Sans +cesse, dans son délire, il s'amuse à tourmenter les sept mondes. Comme _on +vient de nous apprendre qu'_ il n'a point daigné parler d'eux ce jour, que +lui fut donnée cette faveur, _dont il abuse_, entre dans un corps humain, +ô toi, qui peux briser tes ennemis, et jette sans vie à tes pieds, roi +puissant des treize Dieux, ce Rávana superbe, d'une force épouvantable, +d'un orgueil immense, l'ennemi de tous les ascètes, ce ver, _qui les +ronge_, cette cause de leurs gémissements." + +_Ici, dans le premier tome du saint Râmâyana_, Finit le quatorzième +chapitre, nommé: UN EXPÉDIENT POUR TUER RÁVANA. + +HIPPOLYTE FAUCHE. + + + + +Uttarakánda. + + +The Rámáyan ends, epically complete, with the triumphant return of Ráma +and his rescued queen to Ayodhyá and his consecration and coronation in +the capital of his forefathers. Even if the story were not complete, the +conclusion of the last Canto of the sixth Book, evidently the work of a +later hand than Válmíki's, which speaks of Ráma's glorious and happy reign +and promises blessings to those who read and hear the Rámáyan, would be +sufficient to show that, when these verses were added, the poem was +considered to be finished. The Uttarakánda or Last Book is merely an +appendix or a supplement and relates only events antecedent and subsequent +to those described in the original poem. Indian scholars however, led by +reverential love of tradition, unanimously ascribe this Last Book to +Válmíki, and regard it as part of the Rámáyan. + +Signor Gorresio has published an excellent translation of the Uttarakánda, +in Italian prose, from the recension current in Bengal;(1030) and Mr. Muir +has epitomized a portion of the book in the Appendix to the Fourth Part of +his Sanskrit Texts (1862). From these scholars I borrow freely in the +following pages, and give them my hearty thanks for saving me much +wearisome labour. + +"After Ráma had returned to Ayodhyá and taken possession of the throne, +the rishis [saints] assembled to greet him, and Agastya, in answer to his +questions recounted many particulars regarding his old enemies. In the +Krita Yuga (or Golden Age) the austere and pious Brahman rishi Pulastya, a +son of Brahmá, being teased with the visits of different damsels, +proclaimed that any one of them whom he again saw near his hermitage +should become pregnant. This had not been heard by the daughter of the +royal rishi Trinavindu, who one day came into Pulastya's neighbourhood, +and her pregnancy was the result (Sect. 2, vv. 14 ff.). After her return +home, her father, seeing her condition, took her to Pulastya, who accepted +her as his wife, and she bore a son who received the name of Visravas. +This son was, like his father, an austere and religious sage. He married +the daughter of the muni Bharadvája, who bore him a son to whom Brahmá +gave the name of Vaisravan-Kuvera (Sect. 3, vv. 1 ff.). He performed +austerities for thousands of years, when he obtained from Brahmá as a boon +that he should be one of the guardians of the world (along with Indra, +Varuna, and Yáma) and the god of riches. He afterwards consulted his +father Visravas about an abode, and at his suggestion took possession of +the city of Lanká, which had formerly been built by Visvakarmán for the +Rákshasas, but had been abandoned by them through fear of Vishnu, and was +at that time unoccupied. Ráma then (Sect. 4) says he is surprised to hear +that Lanká had formerly belonged to the Rákshasas, as he had always +understood that they were the descendants of Pulastya, and now he learns +that they had also another origin. He therefore asks who was their +ancestor, and what fault they had committed that they were chased away by +Vishnu. Agastya replies that when Brahmá created the waters, he formed +certain beings,--some of whom received the name of Rákshasas,--to guard +them. The first Rákshasas kings were Heti and Praheti. Heti married a +sister of Kála (Time). She bore him a son Vidyutkesa, who in his turn took +for his wife Lankatanka[t.]á, the daughter of Sandhyá (V. 21). She bore +him a son Sukesa, whom she abandoned, but he was seen by Siva as he was +passing by with his wife Párvatí, who made the child as old as his mother, +and immortal, and gave him a celestial city. Sukesa married a Gandharví +called Devavatí who bore three sons, Mályavat, Sumáli and Máli. These sons +practised intense austerities, when Brahmá appeared and conferred on them +invincibility and long life. They then harassed the gods. Visvakarmá gave +them a city, Lanká, on the mountain Trikúta, on the shore of the southern +ocean, which he had built at the command of Indra.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} The three Rákshasa, +Mályavat and his two brothers, then began to oppress the gods, rishis, +etc.; who (Sect. 6, v. 1 ff.) in consequence resort for aid to Mahádeva, +who having regard to his protégé Sukesa the father of Mályavat, says that +he cannot kill the Rákshasas, but advises the suppliants to go to Vishnu, +which they do, and receive from him a promise that he will destroy their +enemies. The three Rákshasa kings, hearing of this, consult together, and +proceed to heaven to attack the gods. Vishnu prepares to meet them. The +battle is described in the seventh section. The Rákshasas are defeated by +Vishnu with great slaughter, and driven back to Lanká, one of their +leaders, Máli, being slain. Mályavat remonstrates with Vishnu, who was +assaulting the rear of the fugitives, for his unwarrior-like conduct, and +wishes to renew the combat (Sect. 8, v. 3 ff.). Vishnu replies that he +must fulfil his promise to the gods by slaying the Rákshasas, and that he +would destroy them even if they fled to Pátála. These Rákshasas, Agastya +says, were more powerful than Rávana, and, could only be destroyed by +Náráyana, _i.e._ by Ráma himself, the eternal, indestructible god. Sumáli +with his family lived for along time in Pátála, while Kuvera dwelt in +Lanká. In section 9 it is related that Sumáli once happened to visit the +earth, when he observed Kuvera going in his chariot to see his father +Visravas. This leads him to consider how he might restore his own +fortunes. He consequently desires his daughter Kaikasí to go and woo +Visravas, who receives her graciously. She becomes the mother of the +dreadful Rávana, of the huge Kumbhakarna, of Súrpanakhá, and of the +righteous Vibhishana, who was the last son. These children grow up in the +forest. Kumbhakarna goes about eating rishis. Kuvera comes to visit his +father, when Kaikasí takes occasion to urge her son Rávana to strive to +become like his brother (Kuvera) in splendour. This Rávana promises to do. +He then goes to the hermitage of Gokarna with his brothers to perform +austerity. In section 10 their austere observances are described: after a +thousand years' penance Rávana throws his head into the fire. He repeats +this oblation nine times after equal intervals, and is about to do it the +tenth time, when Brahmá appears, and offers a boon. Rávana asks +immortality, but is refused. He then asks that he may be indestructible by +all creatures more powerful than men; which boon is accorded by Brahmá +together with the recovery of all the heads he had sacrificed and the +power of assuming any shape he pleased. Vibhishana asks as his boon that +even amid the greatest calamities he may think only of righteousness, and +that the weapon of Brahmá may appear to him unlearnt, etc. The god grants +his request, and adds the gift of immortality. When Brahmá is about to +offer a boon to Kumbhakarna, the gods interpose, as, they say, he had +eaten seven Apsarases and ten followers of Indra, besides rishis and men; +and beg that under the guise of a boon stupefaction may be inflicted on +him. Brahmá thinks on Sarasvatí, who arrives and, by Brahmá's command, +enters into Kumbhakarna's mouth that she may speak for him. Under this +influence he asks that he may receive the boon of sleeping for many years, +which is granted. When however Sarasvatí has left him, and he recovers his +own consciousness, he perceives that he has been deluded. Kuvera by his +father's advice, gives up the city of Lanká to Rávan."(1031) Rávana +marries (Sect. 12) Mandodarí the beautiful daughter of the Asur Maya whose +name has several times occurred in the Rámáyan as that of an artist of +wonderful skill. She bears a son Meghanáda or the Roaring Cloud who was +afterwards named Indrajít from his victory over the sovereign of the +skies. The conquest of Kuvera, and the acquisition of the magic +self-moving chariot which has done much service in the Rámáyan, form the +subject of sections XIII., XIV. and XV. "The rather pretty story of +Vedavatí is related in the seventeenth section, as follows: Rávana in the +course of his progress through the world, comes to the forest on the +Himálaya, where he sees a damsel of brilliant beauty, but in ascetic garb, +of whom he straightway becomes enamoured. He tells her that such an +austere life is unsuited to her youth and attractions, and asks who she is +and why she is leading an ascetic existence. She answers that she is +called Vedavatí, and is the vocal daughter of Vrihaspati's son, the rishi +Kusadhwaja, sprung from him during his constant study of the Veda. The +gods, gandharvas, etc., she says, wished that she should choose a husband, +but her father would give her to no one else than to Vishnu, the lord of +the world, whom he desired for his son-in-law. Vedavatí then proceeds: 'In +order that I may fulfil this desire of my father in respect of Náráyana, I +wed him with my heart. Having entered into this engagement I practise +great austerity. Náráyana and no other than he, Purushottama, is my +husband. From the desire of obtaining him, I resort to this severe +observance.' Rávana's passion is not in the least diminished by this +explanation and he urges that it is the old alone who should seek to +become distinguished by accumulating merit through austerity, prays that +she who is so young and beautiful shall become his bride; and boasts that +he is superior to Vishnu. She rejoins that no one but he would thus +contemn that deity. On receiving this reply he touches the hair of her +head with the tip of his finger. She is greatly incensed, and forthwith +cuts off her hair and tells him that as he has so insulted her, she cannot +continue to live, but will enter into the fire before his eyes. She goes +on 'Since I have been insulted in the forest by thee who art +wicked-hearted, I shall be born again for thy destruction. For a man of +evil desire cannot be slain by a woman; and the merit of my austerity +would be lost if I were to launch a curse against thee. But if I have +performed or bestowed or sacrificed aught may I be born the virtuous +daughter, not produced from the womb, of a righteous man.' Having thus +spoken she entered the blazing fire. Then a shower of celestial flowers +fell (from every part of the sky). It is she, lord, who, having been +Vedavatí in the Krita age, has been born (in the Treta age) as the +daughter of the king of the Janakas, and (has become) thy [Ráma's] bride; +for thou art the eternal Vishnu. The mountain-like enemy who was +[virtually] destroyed before by her wrath, has now been slain by her +having recourse to thy superhuman energy." On this the commentator +remarks: "By this it is signified that Sítá was the principal cause of +Rávana's death; but the function of destroying him is ascribed to Ráma." +On the words, "thou art Vishnu," in the preceding verse the same +commentator remarks: "By this it is clearly affirmed that Sítá was +Lakshmí." This is what Parásara says: "In the god's life as Ráma, she +became Sítá, and in his birth as Krishna [she became] Rukminí."(1032) + +In the following section (XVIII.) "Rávana is described as violently +interrupting a sacrifice which is being performed by king Marutta, and the +assembled gods in terror assume different shapes to escape; Indra becomes +a peacock, Yáma a crow, Kuvera a lizard, and Varuna a swan; and each deity +bestows a boon on the animal he had chosen. The peacock's tail recalls +Indra's thousand eyes; the swan's colour becomes white, like the foam of +the ocean (Varuna being its lord); the lizard obtains a golden colour; and +the crow is never to die except when killed by a violent death, and the +dead are to enjoy the funeral oblations when they have been devoured by +the crows."(1033) + +Rávan then attacks Arjuna or Kárttavírya the mighty king of Máhishmati on +the banks of the Narmadá, and is defeated, captured and imprisoned by +Arjuna. At the intercession of Pulastya (Sect. XXII.) he is released from +his bonds. He then visits Kishkindhá where he enters into alliance with +Báli the King of the Vánars: "We will have all things in common," says +Rávan, "dames, sons, cities and kingdoms, food, vesture, and all +delights." His next exploit is the invasion of the kingdom of departed +spirits and his terrific battle with the sovereign Yáma. The poet in his +description of these regions with the detested river with waves of blood, +the dire lamentations, the cries for a drop of water, the devouring worm, +all the tortures of the guilty and the somewhat insipid pleasures of the +just, reminds one of the scenes in the under world so vividly described by +Homer, Virgil, and Dante. Yáma is defeated (Sect. XXVI.) by the giant, not +so much by his superior power as because at the request of Brahmá Yáma +refrains from smiting with his deadly weapon the Rákshas enemy to whom +that God had once given the promise that preserved him. In the +twenty-seventh section Rávan goes "under the earth into Pátála the +treasure-house of the waters inhabited by swarms of serpents and Daityas, +and well defended by Varun." He subdues Bhogavatí the city ruled by Vásuki +and reduces the Nágas or serpents to subjection. He penetrates even to the +imperial seat of Varun. The God himself is absent, but his sons come forth +and do battle with the invader. The giant is victorious and departs +triumphant. The twenty-eighth section gives the details of a terrific +battle between Rávan and Mándhátá King of Ayodhyá, a distinguished +ancestor of Ráma. Supernatural weapons are employed on both sides and the +issue of the conflict is long doubtful. But at last Mándhátá prepares to +use the mighty weapon "acquired by severe austerities through the grace +and favour of Rudra." The giant would inevitably have been slain. But two +pre-eminent Munis Pulastya and Gálava beheld the fight through the power +given by contemplation, and with words of exhortation they parted King +Mándhátá and the sovereign of the Rákshases. Rávan at last (Sect. XXXII.) +returns homeward carrying with him in his car Pushpak the virgin daughters +of kings, of Rishis, of Daityas, and Gandharvas whom he has seized upon +his way. The thirty-sixth section describes a battle with Indra, in which +the victorious Meghanáda son of the giant, makes the King of the Gods his +prisoner, binds him with his magic art, and carries him away (Sect. +XXVII.) in triumph to Lanká. Brahmá intercedes (Sect. XXXVIII.) and +Indrajít releases his prisoner on obtaining in return the boon that +sacrifice to the Lord of Fire shall always make him invincible in the +coming battle. In sections XXXIX., XL, "we have a legend related to Ráma +by the sage Agastya to account for the stupendous strength of the monkey +Hanumán, as it had been described in the _Rámáyana_. Rama naturally +wonders (as perhaps many readers of the _Rámáyana_ have done since) why a +monkey of such marvellous power and prowess had not easily overcome Báli +and secured the throne for his friend Sugríva. Agastya replies that +Hanumán was at that time under a curse from a Rishi, and consequently was +not conscious of his own might."(1034) The whole story of the marvellous +Vánar is here given at length, but nothing else of importance is added to +the tale already given in the Rámáyana. The Rishis or saints then (Sect. +XL.) return to their celestial seats, and the Vánars, Rákshases and bears +also (Sect. XLIII.) take their departure. The chariot Pushpak is restored +to its original owner Kuvera, as has already been related in the Rámáyan. + +The story of Ráma and Sítá is then continued, and we meet with matter of +more human interest. The winter is past and the pleasant spring-time is +come, and Ráma and Sítá sit together in the shade of the Asoka trees happy +as Indra and Sachí when they drink in Paradise the nectar of the Gods. +"Tell me, my beloved," says Ráma, "for thou wilt soon be a mother, hast +thou a wish in thy heart for me to gratify?" And Sítá smiles and answers: +"I long, O son of Raghu, to visit the pure and holy hermitages on the +banks of the Ganges and to venerate the feet of the saints who there +perform their rigid austerities and live on roots and berries. This is my +chief desire, to stand within the hermits' grove were it but for a single +day." And Ráma said: "Let not the thought trouble thee: thou shalt go to +the grove of the ascetics." But slanderous tongues have been busy in +Ayodhyá, and Sítá has not been spared. Ráma hears that the people are +lamenting his blind folly in taking back to his bosom the wife who was so +long a captive in the palace of Rávan. Ráma well knows her spotless purity +in thought, word, and deed, and her perfect love of him; but he cannot +endure the mockery and the shame and resolves to abandon his unsuspecting +wife. He orders the sad but still obedient Lakshman to convey her to the +hermitage which she wishes to visit and to leave her there, for he will +see her face again no more. They arrive at the hermitage, and Lakshman +tells her all. She falls fainting on the ground, and when she recovers her +consciousness sheds some natural tears and bewails her cruel and +undeserved lot. But she resolves to live for the sake of Ráma and her +unborn son, and she sends by Lakshman a dignified message to the husband +who has forsaken her: "I grieve not for myself," she says "because I have +been abandoned on account of what the people say, and not for any evil +that I have done. The husband is the God of the wife, the husband is her +lord and guide; and what seems good unto him she should do even at the +cost of her life." + +Sítá is honourably received by the saint Válmíki himself, and the holy +women of the hermitage are charged to entertain and serve her. In this +calm retreat she gives birth to two boys who receive the names of Kusa and +Lava. They are carefully brought up and are taught by Válmíki himself to +recite the Rámáyan. The years pass by: and Ráma at length determines to +celebrate the Asvamedha or Sacrifice of the Steed. Válmíki, with his two +young pupils, attends the ceremony, and the unknown princes recite before +the delighted father the poem which recounts his deeds. Ráma inquires into +their history and recognizes them as his sons. Sítá is invited to return +and solemnly affirm her innocence before the great assembly. + +"But Sítá's heart was too full; this second ordeal was beyond even her +power to submit to, and the poet rose above the ordinary Hindu level of +women when he ventured to paint her conscious purity as rebelling: +'Beholding all the spectators, and clothed in red garments, Sítá clasping +her hands and bending low her face, spoke thus in a voice choked with +tears: "as I, even in mind, have never thought of any other than Ráma, so +may Mádhaví the goddess of Earth, grant me a hiding-place." As Sítá made +this oath, lo! a marvel appeared. Suddenly cleaving the earth, a divine +throne of marvellous beauty rose up, borne by resplendent dragons on their +heads: and seated on it, the goddess of Earth, raising Sítá with her arm, +said to her, "Welcome to thee!" and placed her by her side. And as the +queen, seated on the throne, slowly descended to Hades, a continuous +shower of flowers fell down from heaven on her head.'(1035)" + +"Both the great Hindu epics thus end in disappointment and sorrow. In the +_Mahábhárata_ the five victorious brothers abandon the hardly won throne +to die one by one in a forlorn pilgrimage to the Himálaya; and in the same +way Ráma only regains his wife, after all his toils, to lose her. It is +the same in the later Homeric cycle--the heroes of the _Iliad_ perish by +ill-fated deaths. And even Ulysses, after his return to Ithaca, sets sail +again to Thesprotia, and finally falls by the hand of his own son. But in +India and Greece alike this is an afterthought of a self-conscious time, +which has been subsequently added to cast a gloom on the strong +cheerfulness of the heroic age."(1036) + +"The termination of Ráma's terrestrial career is thus told in Sections 116 +ff. of the Uttarakánda. Time, in the form of an ascetic, comes to his +palace gate, and asks, as the messenger of the great rishi (Brahmá) to see +Ráma. He is admitted and received with honour, but says, when he is asked +what he has to communicate, that his message must be delivered in private, +and that any one who witnesses the interview is to lose his life. Ráma +informs Lakshman of all this, and desires him to stand outside. Time then +tells Ráma that he has been sent by Brahmá, to say that when he (Ráma, +_i.e._ Vishnu) after destroying the worlds was sleeping on the ocean, he +had formed him (Brahmá) from the lotus springing from his navel, and +committed to him the work of creation; that he (Brahmá) had then entreated +Ráma to assume the function of Preserver, and that the latter had in +consequence become Vishnu, being born as the son of Aditi, and had +determined to deliver mankind by destroying Rávana, and to live on earth +ten thousand and ten hundred years; that period, adds Time, was now on the +eve of expiration, and Ráma could either at his pleasure prolong his stay +on earth, or ascend to heaven and rule over the gods. Ráma replies, that +he had been born for the good of the three worlds, and would now return to +the place whence he had come, as it was his function to fulfil the +purposes of the gods. While they are speaking the irritable rishi Durvásas +comes, and insists on seeing Ráma immediately, under a threat, if refused, +of cursing Ráma and all his family." + +Lakshman, preferring to save his kinsman, though knowing that his own +death must be the consequence of interrupting the interview of Ráma with +Time, enters the palace and reports the rishi's message to Ráma. Ráma +comes out, and when Durvásas has got the food he wished, and departed, +Ráma reflects with great distress on the words of Time, which require that +Lakshman should die. Lakshman however exhorts Ráma not to grieve, but to +abandon him and not break his own promise. The counsellors concurring in +this advice, Ráma abandons Lakshman, who goes to the river Sarayú, +suppresses all his senses, and is conveyed bodily by Indra to heaven. The +gods are delighted by the arrival of the fourth part of Vishnu. Ráma then +resolves to install Bharata as his successor and retire to the forest and +follow Lakshman. Bharata however refuses the succession, and determines to +accompany his brother. Ráma's subjects are filled with grief, and say they +also will follow him wherever he goes. Messengers are sent to Satrughna, +the other brother, and he also resolves to accompany Ráma; who at length +sets out in procession from his capital with all the ceremonial +appropriate to the "great departure," silent, indifferent to external +objects, joyless, with Srí on his right, the goddess Earth on his left, +Energy in front, attended by all his weapons in human shapes, by the Vedas +in the forms of Bráhmans, by the Gáyatrí, the Omkára, the Vashatkára, by +rishis, by his women, female slaves, eunuchs, and servants. Bharata with +his family, and Satrughna, follow together with Bráhmans bearing the +sacred fire, and the whole of the people of the country, and even with +animals, etc., etc. Ráma, with all these attendants, comes to the banks of +the Sarayú. Brahmá, with all the gods and innumerable celestial cars, now +appears, and all the sky is refulgent with the divine splendour. Pure and +fragrant breezes blow, a shower of flowers falls. Ráma enters the waters +of the Sarayú; and Brahmá utters a voice from the sky, saying: "Approach, +Vishnu; Rághava, thou hast happily arrived, with thy godlike brothers. +Enter thine own body as Vishnu or the eternal ether. For thou art the +abode of the worlds: no one comprehends thee, the inconceivable and +imperishable, except the large-eyed Máyá thy primeval spouse." Hearing +these words, Ráma enters the glory of Vishnu with his body and his +followers. He then asks Brahmá to find an abode for the people who had +accompanied him from devotion to his person, and Brahmá appoints them a +celestial residence accordingly.(1037) + + + + + +ADDITIONAL NOTES. + + + + +Queen Fortune. + + +"A curious festival is celebrated in honour of this divinity (Lakshmî) on +the fifth lunar day of the light half of the month Mâgha (February), when +she is identified with Saraswatí the consort of Brahmá, and the goddess of +learning. In his treatise on festivals, a great modern authority, +Raghunandana, mentions, on the faith of a work called +_Samvatsara-sandipa_, that Lakshmî is to be worshipped in the forenoon of +that day with flowers, perfumes, rice, and water; that due honour is to be +paid to inkstand and writing-reed, and no writing to be done. Wilson, in +his essay on the _Religious Festivals of the Hindus_ (works, vol. ii, p. +188. ff.) adds that on the morning of the 2nd February, the whole of the +pens and inkstands, and the books, if not too numerous and bulky, are +collected, the pens or reeds cleaned, the inkstands scoured, and the books +wrapped up in new cloth, are arranged upon a platform, or a sheet, and +strewn over with flowers and blades of young barley, and that no flowers +except white are to be offered. After performing the necessary rites, {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} +all the members of the family assemble and make their prostrations; the +books, the pens, and ink having an entire holiday; and should any +emergency require a written communication on the day dedicated to the +divinity of scholarship, it is done with chalk or charcoal upon a black or +white board." + +CHAMBERS'S ENCYCLOPÆDIA. _Lakshmî_. + + + + +Indra. + + +"The Hindu Jove or Jupiter Tonans, chief of the secondary deities. He +presides over swarga or paradise, and is more particularly the god of the +atmosphere and winds. He is also regent of the east quarter of the sky. As +chief of the deities he is called Devapati, Devadeva, Surapati, etc.; as +lord of the atmosphere Divaspati; as lord of the eight Vasus or demigods, +Fire, etc., Vásava; as breaking cities into fragments, Purandara, Puranda; +as lord of a hundred sacrifices (the performance of a hundred Asvamedhas +elevating the sacrificer to the rank of Indra) Satakratu, Satamakha; as +having a thousand eyes, Sahasráksha; as husband of Sachí, Sachípati. His +wife is called Sachí, Indrání, Sakrání, Maghoni, Indrasakti, Pulomajá, and +Paulomí. His son is Jayanta. His pleasure garden or elysium is Nandana; +his city, Amarávatí; his palace, Vaijayanta; his horse, Uchchaihsravas, +his elephant, Airávata; his charioteer, Mátali." + +PROFESSOR M. WILLIAMS'S English-Sanskrit Dictionary. _Indra_. + + + + +Vishnu. + + +"The second person of the Hindu triad, and the most celebrated and popular +of all the Indian deities. He is the personification of the preserving +power, and became incarnate in nine different forms, for the preservation +of mankind in various emergencies. Before the creation of the universe, +and after its temporary annihilation, he is supposed to sleep on the +waters, floating on the serpent Sesha, and is then identified with +Náráyana. Brahmá, the creator, is fabled to spring at that time from a +lotus which grows from his navel, whilst thus asleep.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} His ten avatárs or +incarnations are: + +"1. The Matsya, or fish. In this avatár Vishnu descended in the form of a +fish to save the pious king Satyavrata, who with the seven Rishis and +their wives had taken refuge in the ark to escape the deluge which then +destroyed the earth. 2, The Kúrma, or Tortoise. In this he descended in +the form of a tortoise, for the purpose of restoring to man some of the +comforts lost during the flood. To this end he stationed himself at the +bottom of the ocean, and allowed the point of the great mountain Mandara +to be placed upon his back, which served as a hard axis, whereon the gods +and demons, with the serpent Vásuki twisted round the mountain for a rope, +churned the waters for the recovery of the amrita or nectar, and fourteen +other sacred things. 3. The Varáha, or Boar. In this he descended in the +form of a boar to rescue the earth from the power of a demon called +'golden-eyed,' Hiranyáksha. This demon had seized on the earth and carried +it with him into the depths of the ocean. Vishnu dived into the abyss, and +after a contest of a thousand years slew the monster. 4. The Narasinha, or +Man-lion. In this monstrous shape of a creature half-man, half-lion, +Vishnu delivered the earth from the tyranny of an insolent demon called +Hiranyakasipu. 5. Vámana, or Dwarf. This avatár happened in the second age +of the Hindús or Tretáyug, the four preceding are said to have occurred in +the first or Satyayug; the object of this avatár was to trick Bali out of +the dominion of the three worlds. Assuming the form of a wretched dwarf he +appeared before the king and asked, as a boon, as much land as he could +pace in three steps. This was granted; and Vishnu immediately expanding +himself till he filled the world, deprived Bali at two steps of heaven and +earth, but in consideration of some merit, left Pátála still in his +dominion. 6. Parasuráma. 7. Rámchandra. 8. Krishna, or according to some +Balaráma. 9. Buddha. In this avatár Vishnu descended in the form of a sage +for the purpose of making some reform in the religion of the Brahmins, and +especially to reclaim them from their proneness to animal sacrifice. Many +of the Hindús will not allow this to have been an incarnation of their +favourite god. 10. Kalki, or White Horse. This is yet to come. Vishnu +mounted on a white horse, with a drawn scimitar, blazing like a comet, +will, according to prophecy, end this present age, viz. the fourth or +Kaliyug, by destroying the world, and then renovating creation by an age +of purity." + +WILLIAM'S DICTIONARY. _Vishnu._ + + + + +Siva. + + +"A celebrated Hindú God, the Destroyer of creation, and therefore the most +formidable of the Hindú Triad. He also personifies reproduction, since the +Hindú philosophy excludes the idea of total annihilation without +subsequent regeneration. Hence he is sometimes confounded with Brahmá, the +creator or first person of the Triad. He is the particular God of the +Tántrikas, or followers of the books called Tantras. His worshippers are +termed Saivas, and although not so numerous as the Vaishnavas, exalt their +god to the highest place in the heavens, and combine in him many of the +attributes which properly belong to the other deities. According to them +Siva is Time, Justice, Fire, Water, the Sun, the Destroyer and Creator. As +presiding over generation, his type is the Linga, or Phallus, the origin +probably of the Phallic emblem of Egypt and Greece. As the God of +generation and justice, which latter character he shares with the god +Yama, he is represented riding a white bull. His own colour, as well as +that of the bull, is generally white, referring probably to the unsullied +purity of Justice. His throat is dark-blue; his hair of a light reddish +colour, and thickly matted together, and gathered above his head like the +hair of an ascetic. He is sometimes seen with two hands, sometimes with +four, eight, or ten, and with five faces. He has three eyes, one being in +the centre of his forehead, pointing up and down. These are said to denote +his view of the three divisions of time, past, present, and future. He +holds a trident in his hand to denote, as some say, his relationship to +water, or according to others, to show that the three great attributes of +Creator, Destroyer, and Regenerator are combined in him. His loins are +enveloped in a tiger's skin. In his character of Time, he not only +presides over its extinction, but also its astronomical regulation. A +crescent or half-moon on his forehead indicates the measure of time by the +phases of the moon; a serpent forms one of his necklaces to denote the +measure of time by years, and a second necklace of human skulls marks the +lapse and revolution of ages, and the extinction and succession of the +generations of mankind. He is often represented as entirely covered with +serpents, which are the emblems of immortality. They are bound in his +hair, round his neck, wrists, waist, arms and legs; they serve as rings +for his fingers, and earrings for his ears, and are his constant +companions. Siva has more than a thousand names which are detailed at +length in the sixty-ninth chapter of the Siva Purána."--WILLIAMS'S +DICTIONARY, _Siva_. + + + + +Apsarases. + + +"Originally these deities seem to have been personifications of the +vapours which are attracted by the sun, and form into mist or clouds: +their character may be thus interpreted in the few hymns of the Rigveda +where mention is made of them. At a subsequent period when the Gandharva +of the Rigveda who personifies there especially the Fire of the Sun, +expanded into the Fire of Lightning, the rays of the moon and other +attributes of the elementary life of heaven as well as into pious acts +referring to it, the Apsarasas become divinities which represent phenomena +or objects both of a physical and ethical kind closely associated with +that life; thus in the _Yajurveda_ Sunbeams are called the Apsarasas +associated with the Gandharva who is the Sun; Plants are termed the +Apsarasas connected with the Gandharva Fire: Constellations are the +Apsarasas of the Gandharva Moon: Waters the Apsarasas of the Gandharva +Wind, etc. etc.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} In the last Mythological epoch when the Gandharvas have +saved from their elementary nature merely so much as to be musicians in +the paradise of Indra, the Apsarasas appear among other subordinate +deities which share in the merry life of Indra's heaven, as the wives of +the Gandharvas, but more especially as wives of a licentious sort, and +they are promised therefore, too, as a reward to heroes fallen in battle +when they are received in the paradise of Indra; and while, in the +Rigveda, they assist Soma to pour down his floods, they descend in the +epic literature on earth merely to shake the virtue of penitent Sages and +to deprive them of the power they would otherwise have acquired through +unbroken austerities."--GOLDSTÜCKER'S _Sanskrit Dictionary_. + + + + +Vishnu's Incarnation As Ráma. + + +"Here is described one of the _avatárs_, descents or manifestations of +Vishnu in a visible form. The word _avatár_ signifies literally _descent_. +The _avatár_ which is here spoken of, that in which, according to Indian +traditions, Vishnu descended and appeared upon earth in the corporeal form +of Ráma, the hero of the Rámáyana, is the seventh in the series of Indian +_avatárs_. Much has been said before now of these avatárs, and through +deficient knowledge of the ideas and doctrines of India, they have been +compared to the sublime dogma of the Christian Incarnation. This is one of +the grossest errors that ignorance of the ideas and beliefs of a people +has produced. Between the _avatárs_ of India and the Christian Incarnation +there is such an immensity of difference that it is impossible to find any +reasonable analogy that can approximate them. The idea of the _avatárs_ is +intimately united with that of the Trimúrti; the bond of connection +between these two ideas is an essential notion common to both, the notion +of Vishnu. What is the Trimúrti? I have already said that it is composed +of three Gods, Brahmá (masculine), Vishnu the God of _avatárs_, and Siva. +These three Gods, who when reduced to their primitive and most simple +expression are but three cosmogonical personifications, three powers or +forces of nature, these Gods, I say, are here found, according to Indian +doctrines, entirely external to the true God of India, or Brahma in the +neuter gender. Brahma is alone, unchangeable in the midst of creation: all +emanates from him, he comprehends all, but he remains extraneous to all: +he is Being and the negation of beings. Brahma is never worshipped; the +indeterminate Being is never invoked; he is inaccessible to the prayers as +the actions of man; humanity, as well as nature, is extraneous to him. +External to Brahma rises the Trimúrti, that is to say, Brahmá (masculine) +the power which creates, Vishnu the power which preserves, and Siva the +power which destroys: theogony here commences at the same time with +cosmogony. The three divinities of the Trimúrti govern the phenomena of +the universe and influence all nature. The real God of India is by himself +without power; real efficacious power is attributed only to three +divinities who exist externally to him. Brahmá, Vishnu, and Siva, +possessed of qualities in part contradictory and attributes that are +mutually exclusive, have no other accord or harmony than that which +results from the power of things itself, and which is found external to +their own thoughts. Such is the Indian Trimúrti. What an immense +difference between this Triad and the wonderful Trinity of Christianity! +Here there is only one God, who created all, provides for all, governs +all. He exists in three Persons equal to one another, and intimately +united in one only infinite and eternal substance. The Father represents +the eternal thought and the power which created, the Son infinite love, +the Holy Spirit universal sanctification. This one and triune God +completes by omnipotent power the great work of creation which, when it +has come forth from His hands, proceeds in obedience to the laws which He +has given it, governed with certain order by His infinite providence. + +"The immense difference between the Trimúrti of India and the Christian +Trinity is found again between the _avatárs_ of Vishnu and the Incarnation +of Christ. The _avatár_ was effected altogether externally to the Being +who is in India regarded as the true God. The manifestation of one +essentially cosmogonical divinity wrought for the most part only material +and cosmogonical prodigies. At one time it takes the form of the gigantic +tortoise which sustains Mount Mandar from sinking in the ocean; at another +of the fish which raises the lost Veda from the bottom of the sea, and +saves mankind from the waters. When these _avatárs_ are not cosmogonical +they consist in some protection accorded to men or Gods, a protection +which is neither universal nor permanent. The very manner in which the +_avatár_ is effected corresponds to its material nature, for instance the +mysterious vase and the magic liquor by means of which the _avatár_ here +spoken of takes place. What are the forms which Vishnu takes in his +descents? They are the simple forms of life; he becomes a tortoise, a +boar, a fish, but he is not obliged to take the form of intelligence and +liberty, that is to say, the form of man. In the _avatár_ of Vishnu is +discovered the inpress of pantheistic ideas which have always more or less +prevailed in India. Does the _avatár_ produce a permanent and definitive +result in the world? By no means. It is renewed at every catastrophe +either of nature or man, and its effects are only transitory.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} To sum up +then, the Indian _avatár_ is effected externally to the true God of India, +to Brahma; it has only a cosmogonical or historical mission which is +neither lasting nor decisive; it is accomplished by means of strange +prodigies and magic transformations; it may assume promiscuously all the +forms of life; it may be repeated indefinitely. Now let the whole of this +Indian idea taken from primitive tradition be compared with the +Incarnation of Christ and it will be seen that there is between the two an +irreconcilable difference. According to the doctrines of Christianity the +Everlasting Word, Infinite Love, the Son of God, and equal to Him, assumed +a human body, and being born as a man accomplished by his divine act the +great miracle of the spiritual redemption of man. His coming had for its +sole object to bring erring and lost humanity back to Him; this work being +accomplished, and the divine union of men with God being re-established, +redemption is complete and remains eternal. + +"The superficial study of India produced in the last century many +erroneous ideas, many imaginary and false parallels between Christianity +and the Brahmanical religion. A profounder knowledge of Indian +civilization and religion, and philological studies enlarged and guided by +more certain principles have dissipated one by one all those errors. The +attributes of the Christian God, which by one of those intellectual +errors, which Vico attributes to the vanity of the learned, had been +transferred to Vishnu, have by a better inspired philosophy been reclaimed +for Christianity, and the result of the two religions, one immovable and +powerless, the other diffusing itself with all its inherent force and +energy, has shown further that there is a difference, a real opposition, +between the two principles."--GORRESIO. + + + + +Kusa and Lava. + + +As the story of the banishment of Sítá and the subsequent birth in +Válmíki's hermitage of Kusa and Lava the rhapsodists of the Rámáyan, is +intimately connected with the account in the introductory cantos of +Válmíki's composition of the poem, I shall, I trust, be pardoned for +extracting it from my rough translation of Kálidása's Raghuvansa, parts +only of which have been offered to the public. + +"Then, day by day, the husband's hope grew high, +Gazing with love on Sítá's melting eye: +With anxious care he saw her pallid cheek, +And fondly bade her all her wishes speak. +"Once more I fain would see," the lady cried, +"The sacred groves that rise on Gangá's side, +Where holy grass is ever fresh and green, +And cattle feeding on the rice are seen: +There would I rest awhile, where once I strayed +Linked in sweet friendship to each hermit maid." +And Ráma smiled upon his wife, and sware, +With many a tender oath, to grant her prayer. +It chanced, one evening, from a lofty seat +He viewed Ayodhyá stretched before his feet: +He looked with pride upon the royal road +Lined with gay shops their glittering stores that showed, +He looked on Sarjú's silver waves, that bore +The light barks flying with the sail and oar; +He saw the gardens near the town that lay, +Filled with glad citizens and boys at play. +Then swelled the monarch's bosom with delight, +And his heart triumphed at the happy sight. +He turned to Bhadra, standing by his side,-- +Upon whose secret news the king relied.-- +And bade him say what people said and thought +Of all the exploits that his arm had wrought. +The spy was silent, but, when questioned still, +Thus spake, obedient to his master's will: +"For all thy deeds in peace and battle done +The people praise thee, King, except for one: +This only act of all thy life they blame,-- +Thy welcome home of her, thy ravished dame." +Like iron yielding to the iron's blow, +Sank Ráma, smitten by those words of woe. +His breast, where love and fear for empire vied, +Swayed, like a rapid swing, from side to side. +Shall he this rumour scorn, which blots his life, +Or banish her, his dear and spotless wife? +But rigid Duty left no choice between +His perilled honour and his darling queen. +Called to his side, his brothers wept to trace +The marks of anguish in his altered face. +No longer bright and glorious as of old, +He thus addressed them when the tale was told: +"Alas! my brothers, that my life should blot +The fame of those the Sun himself begot: +As from the labouring cloud the driven rain +Leaves on the mirror's polished face a stain. +E'en as an elephant who loathes the stake +And the strong chain he has no power to break, +I cannot brook this cry on every side, +That spreads like oil upon the moving tide. +I leave the daughter of Videha's King, +And the fair blossom soon from her to spring, +As erst, obedient to my sire's command, +I left the empire of the sea-girt land. +Good is my queen, and spotless; but the blame +Is hard to bear, the mockery and the shame. +Men blame the pure Moon for the darkened ray, +When the black shadow takes the light away. +And, O my brothers, if ye wish to see +Ráma live long from this reproach set free, +Let not your pity labour to control +The firm sad purpose of his changeless soul." + + Thus Ráma spake. The sorrowing brothers heard +His stern resolve, without an answering word; +For none among them dared his voice to raise, +That will to question:--and they could not praise. +"Beloved brother," thus the monarch cried +To his dear Lakshman, whom he called aside.-- +Lakshman, who knew no will save his alone +Whose hero deeds through all the world were known:-- +"My queen has told me that she longs to rove +Beneath the shade of Saint Válmíki's grove: +Now mount thy car, away my lady bear; +Tell all, and leave her in the forest there." + + The car was brought, the gentle lady smiled, +As the glad news her trusting heart beguiled. +She mounted up: Sumantra held the reins; +And forth the coursers bounded o'er the plains. +She saw green fields in all their beauty dressed, +And thanked her husband in her loving breast. +Alas! deluded queen! she little knew +How changed was he whom she believed so true; +How one she worshipped like the Heavenly Tree +Could, in a moment's time, so deadly be. +Her right eye throbbed,--ill-omened sign, to tell +The endless loss of him she loved so well, +And to the lady's saddening heart revealed +The woe that Lakshman, in his love, concealed. +Pale grew the bloom of her sweet face,--as fade +The lotus blossoms,--by that sign dismayed. +"Oh, may this omen,"--was her silent prayer,-- +"No grief to Ráma or his brothers bear!" + + When Lakshman, faithful to his brother, stood +Prepared to leave her in the distant wood, +The holy Gangá, flowing by the way, +Raised all her hands of waves to bid him stay. +At length with sobs and burning tears that rolled +Down his sad face, the king's command he told; +As when a monstrous cloud, in evil hour, +Rains from its labouring womb a stony shower. +She heard, she swooned, she fell upon the earth, +Fell on that bosom whence she sprang to birth. +As, when the tempest in its fury flies, +Low in the dust the prostrate creeper lies, +So, struck with terror sank she on the ground, +And all her gems, like flowers, lay scattered round. +But Earth, her mother, closed her stony breast, +And, filled with doubt, denied her daughter rest. +She would not think the Chief of Raghu's race +Would thus his own dear guiltless wife disgrace. +Stunned and unconscious, long the lady lay, +And felt no grief, her senses all astray. +But gentle Lakshman, with a brother's care, +Brought back her sense, and with her sense, despair. +But not her wrongs, her shame, her grief, could wring +One angry word against her lord the King: +Upon herself alone the blame she laid, +For tears and sighs that would not yet be stayed. +To soothe her anguish Lakshman gently strove; +He showed the path to Saint Válmíki's grove; +And craved her pardon for the share of ill +He wrought, obedient to his brother's will. +"O, long and happy, dearest brother, live! +I have to praise," she cried, "and not forgive: +To do his will should be thy noblest praise; +As Vishnu ever Indra's will obeys. +Return, dear brother: on each royal dame +Bestow a blessing in poor Sítá's name, +And bid them, in their love, kind pity take +Upon her offspring, for the father's sake. +And speak my message in the monarch's ear, +The last last words of mine that he shall hear: +"Say, was it worthy of thy noble race +Thy guiltless queen thus lightly to disgrace? +For idle tales to spurn thy faithful bride, +Whose constant truth the searching fire had tried? +Or may I hope thy soul refused consent, +And but thy voice decreed my banishment? +Hope that no care could turn, no love could stay +The lightning stroke that falls on me to-day? +That sins committed in the life that's fled +Have brought this evil on my guilty head? +Think not I value now my widowed life, +Worthless to her who once was Ráma's wife. +I only live because I hope to see +The dear dear babe that will resemble thee. +And then my task of penance shall be done, +With eyes uplifted to the scorching sun; +So shall the life that is to come restore +Mine own dear husband, to be lost no more." +And Lakshman swore her every word to tell, +Then turned to go, and bade the queen farewell. +Alone with all her woes, her piteous cries +Rose like a butchered lamb's that struggling dies. +The reverend sage who from his dwelling came +For sacred grass and wood to feed the flame, +Heard her loud shrieks that rent the echoing wood, +And, quickly following, by the mourner stood. +Before the sage the lady bent her low, +Dried her poor eyes, and strove to calm her woe. +With blessings on her hopes the blameless man +In silver tones his soothing speech began: +"First of all faithful wives, O Queen, art thou; +And can I fail to mourn thy sorrows now? +Rest in this holy grove, nor harbour fear +Where dwell in safety e'en the timid deer. +Here shall thine offspring safely see the light, +And be partaker of each holy rite. +Here, near the hermits' dwellings, shall thou lave +Thy limbs in Tonse's sin-destroying wave, +And on her isles, by prayer and worship, gain +Sweet peace of mind, and rest from care and pain. +Each hermit maiden with her sweet soft voice, +Shall soothe thy woe, and bid thy heart rejoice: +With fruit and early flowers thy lap shall fill, +And offer grain that springs for us at will. +And here, with labour light, thy task shall be +To water carefully each tender tree, +And learn how sweet a nursing mother's joy +Ere on thy bosom rest thy darling boy.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}" + +That very night the banished Sítá bare +Two royal children, most divinely fair.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} + +The saint Válmíki, with a friend's delight, +Graced Sítá's offspring with each holy rite. +Kusa and Lava--such the names they bore-- +Learnt, e'en in childhood, all the Vedas' lore; +And then the bard, their minstrel souls to train, +Taught them to sing his own immortal strain. +And Ráma's deeds her boys so sweetly sang, +That Sítá's breast forgot her bitterest pang.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} + +Then Sítá's children, by the saint's command, +Sang the Rámáyan, wandering through the land. +How could the glorious poem fail to gain +Each heart, each ear that listened to the strain! +So sweet each minstrel's voice who sang the praise +Of Ráma deathless in Válmíki's lays. +Ráma himself amid the wondering throng +Marked their fair forms, and loved the noble song, +While, still and weeping, round the nobles stood, +As, on a windless morn, a dewy wood. +On the two minstrels all the people gazed, +Praised their fair looks and marvelled as they praised; +For every eye amid the throng could trace +Ráma's own image in each youthful face. +Then spoke the king himself and bade them say +Who was their teacher, whose the wondrous lay. +Soon as Válmíki, mighty saint, he saw, +He bowed his head in reverential awe. +"These are thy children" cried the saint, "recall +Thine own dear Sítá, pure and true through all." +"O holy father," thus the king replied, +"The faithful lady by the fire was tried; +But the foul demon's too successful arts +Raised light suspicions in my people's hearts. +Grant that their breasts may doubt her faith no more, +And thus my Sítá and her sons restore." + +_Raghuvansa Cantos XIV, XV._ + + + + +Parasuráma, Page 87. + + +"He cleared the earth thrice seven times of the Kshatriya caste, and +filled with their blood the five large lakes of Samanta, from which he +offered libations to the race of Bhrigu. Offering a solemn sacrifice to +the King of the Gods Parasuráma presented the earth to the ministering +priests. Having given the earth to Kasyapa, the hero of immeasurable +prowess retired to the Mahendra mountain, where he still resides; and in +this manner was there enmity between him and the race of the Kshatriyas, +and thus was the whole earth conquered by Parasuráma." The destruction of +the Kshatriyas by Parasuráma had been provoked by the cruelty of the +Kshatriyas. _Chips from a German Workshop_, _Vol._ II. p. 334. + +The scene in which he appears is probably interpolated for the sake of +making him declare Ráma to be Vishnu. "Herr von Schlegel has often +remarked to me," says Lassen, "that without injuring the connexion of the +story all the chapters [of the Rámáyan] might be omitted in which Ráma is +regarded as an incarnation of Vishnu. In fact, where the incarnation of +Vishnu as the four sons of Dasaratha is described, the great sacrifice is +already ended, and all the priests remunerated at the termination, when +the new sacrifice begins at which the Gods appear, then withdraw, and then +first propose the incarnation to Vishnu. If it had been an original +circumstance of the story, the Gods would certainly have deliberated on +the matter earlier, and the celebration of the sacrifice would have +continued without interruption." LASSEN, _Indische Alterthumskunde, Vol. +I._ p. 489. + + + + +Yáma, Page 68. + + +Son of Vivasvat=Jima son of Vivanghvat, the Jamshíd of the later Persians. + + + + +Fate, Page 68. + + +"The idea of fate was different in India from that which prevailed in +Greece. In Greece fate was a mysterious, inexorable power which governed +men and human events, and from which it was impossible to escape. In India +Fate was rather an inevitable consequence of actions done in births +antecedent to one's present state of existence, and was therefore +connected with the doctrine of metempsychosis. A misfortune was for the +most part a punishment, an expiation of ancient faults not yet entirely +cancelled." GORRESIO. + + + + +Visvámitra, Page 76. + + +"Though of royal extraction, Visvámitra conquered for himself and his +family the privileges of a Brahman. He became a Brahman, and thus broke +through all the rules of caste. The Brahmans cannot deny the fact, because +it forms one of the principal subjects of their legendary poems. But they +have spared no pains to represent the exertions of Visvámitra, in his +struggle for Brahmanhood, as so superhuman that no one would easily be +tempted to follow his example. No mention is made of these monstrous +penances in the Veda, where the struggle between Visvámitra, the leader of +the Kusikas or Bharatas, and the Brahman Vasishtha, the leader of the +white-robed Tritsus, is represented as the struggle of two rivals for the +place of Purohita or chief priest and minister at the court of King Sudás, +the son of Pijavana." _Chips from a German Workshop_, _Vol. II._ p. 336. + + + + +Household Gods, Page 102. + + +"No house is supposed to be without its tutelary divinity, but the notion +attached to this character is now very far from precise. The deity who is +the object of hereditary and family worship, the _Kuladevatá_, is always +one of the leading personages of the Hindu mythology, as Siva, Vishnu or +Durgá, but the _Grihadevatá_ rarely bears any distinct appellation. In +Bengal, the domestic god is sometimes the _Sálagrám_ stone, sometimes the +_tulasi_ plant, sometimes a basket with a little rice in it, and sometimes +a water-jar--to either of which a brief adoration is daily addressed, most +usually by the females of the family. Occasionally small images of Lakshmi +or Chandi fulfil the office, or should a snake appear, he is venerated as +the guardian of the dwelling. In general, however, in former times, the +household deities were regarded as the unseen spirits of ill, the ghosts +and goblins who hovered about every spot, and claimed some particular +sites as their own. Offerings were made to them in the open air, by +scattering a little rice with a short formula at the close of all +ceremonies to keep them in good humour. + +"The household gods correspond better with the genii locorum than with the +lares or penates of autiquity." + +H. H. WILSON. + + + + +Page 107. + + +_Saivya, a king whom earth obeyed,_ +_Once to a hawk a promise made._ + +The following is a free version of this very ancient story which occurs +more than once in the _Mahábhárat_: + +THE SUPPLIANT DOVE. + +Chased by a hawk there came a dove + With worn and weary wing, +And took her stand upon the hand + Of Kásí's mighty king. +The monarch smoothed her ruffled plumes + And laid her on his breast, +And cried, "No fear shall vex thee here, + Rest, pretty egg-born, rest! +Fair Kásí's realm is rich and wide, + With golden harvests gay, +But all that's mine will I resign + Ere I my guest betray." +But panting for his half won spoil + The hawk was close behind. +And with wild cry and eager eye + Came swooping down the wind: +"This bird," he cried, "my destined prize, + 'Tis not for thee to shield: +'Tis mine by right and toilsome flight + O'er hill and dale and field. +Hunger and thirst oppress me sore, + And I am faint with toil: +Thou shouldst not stay a bird of prey + Who claims his rightful spoil. +They say thou art a glorious king, + And justice is thy care: +Then justly reign in thy domain, + Nor rob the birds of air." +Then cried the king: "A cow or deer + For thee shall straightway bleed, +Or let a ram or tender lamb + Be slain, for thee to feed. +Mine oath forbids me to betray + My little twice-born guest: +See how she clings with trembling wings + To her protector's breast." +"No flesh of lambs," the hawk replied, + "No blood of deer for me; +The falcon loves to feed on doves + And such is Heaven's decree. +But if affection for the dove + Thy pitying heart has stirred, +Let thine own flesh my maw refresh, + Weighed down against the bird." +He carved the flesh from off his side, + And threw it in the scale, +While women's cries smote on the skies + With loud lament and wail. +He hacked the flesh from side and arm, + From chest and back and thigh, +But still above the little dove + The monarch's scale stood high. +He heaped the scale with piles of flesh, + With sinews, blood and skin, +And when alone was left him bone + He threw himself therein. +Then thundered voices through the air; + The sky grew black as night; +And fever took the earth that shook + To see that wondrous sight. +The blessed Gods, from every sphere, + By Indra led, came nigh: +While drum and flute and shell and lute + Made music in the sky. +They rained immortal chaplets down, + Which hands celestial twine, +And softly shed upon his head + Pure Amrit, drink divine. +Then God and Seraph, Bard and Nymph + Their heavenly voices raised, +And a glad throng with dance and song + The glorious monarch praised. +They set him on a golden car + That blazed with many a gem; +Then swiftly through the air they flew, + And bore him home with them. +Thus Kásí's lord, by noble deed, + Won heaven and deathless fame: +And when the weak protection seek + From thee, do thou the same. + +_Scenes from the Rámáyan, &c._ + + + + +Page 108. + + +The ceremonies that attended the consecration of a king (_Abhikshepa lit. +Sprinkling over_) are fully described in Goldstücker's Dictionary, from +which the following extract is made: "The type of the inauguration +ceremony as practised at the Epic period may probably be recognized in the +history of the inauguration of _Ráma_, as told in the _Rámáyana_, and in +that of the inauguration of _Yudhishthira_, as told in the _Mahábháratha_. +Neither ceremony is described in these poems with the full detail which is +given of the vaidik rite in the _Aitareya-Bráhmanam_; but the allusion +that Ráma was inaugurated by _Vasishtha_ and the other Bráhmanas in the +same manner as Indra by the Vasus {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} and the observation which is made in +some passages that a certain rite of the inauguration was performed +'according to the sacred rule' {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} admit of the conclusion that the ceremony +was supposed to have taken place in conformity with the vaidik +injunction.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} As the inauguration of _Ráma_ was intended and the necessary +preparations for it were made when his father Dasaratha was still alive, +but as the ceremony itself, through the intrigues of his step-mother +_Kaikeyí_, did not take place then, but fourteen years later, after the +death of _Dasaratha_, an account of the preparatory ceremonies is given in +the _Ayodhyákánda_ (Book II) as well as in the _Yuddha-Kánda_ (Book VI.) +of the Rámáyana, but an account of the complete ceremony in the latter +book alone. According to the _Ayodhyákánda_, on the day preceding the +intended inauguration _Ráma_ and his wife _Sítá_ held a fast, and in the +night they performed this preliminary rite: _Ráma_ having made his +ablutions, approached the idol of _Náráyana_, took a cup of clarified +butter, as the religious law prescribes, made a libation of it into the +kindled fire, and drank the remainder while wishing what was agreeable to +his heart. Then, with his mind fixed on the divinity he lay, silent and +composed, together with _Sítá_, on a bed of Kusa-grass, which was spread +before the altar of Vishnu, until the last watch of the night, when he +awoke and ordered the palace to be prepared for the solemnity. At +day-break reminded of the time by the voices of the bards, he performed +the usual morning devotion and praised the divinity. In the meantime the +town Ayodhyá had assumed a festive appearance and the inauguration +implements had been arranged {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} golden water-jars, an ornamented +throne-seat, a chariot covered with a splendid tiger-skin, water taken +from the confluence of the Ganges and Jumna, as well as from other sacred +rivers, tanks, wells, lakes, and from all oceans, honey, curd, clarified +butter, fried grain, Kusa-grass, flowers, milk; besides, eight beautiful +damsels, and a splendid furious elephant, golden and silver jars, filled +with water, covered with _Udumbara_ branches and various lotus flowers, +besides a white jewelled _chourie_, a white splendid parasol, a white +bull, a white horse, all manner of musical instruments and bards.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} In the +preceding chapter {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} there are mentioned _two_ white _chouries_ instead of +one, and all kinds of seeds, perfumes and jewels, a scimitar, a bow, a +litter, a golden vase, and a blazing fire, and amongst the living +implements of the pageant, instead of the bards, gaudy courtesans, and +besides the eight damsels, professors of divinity, Bráhmanas, cows and +pure kinds of wild beasts and birds, the chiefs of town and country-people +and the citizens with their train." + + + + +Page 109. + + +_Then with the royal chaplains they_ +_Took each his place in long array._ + +_The twice born chiefs, with zealous heed,_ +_Made ready what the rite would need._ + +"Now about the office of a Purohita (house priest). The gods do not eat +the food offered by a king, who has no house-priest (Purohita). Thence the +king even when (not) intending to bring a sacrifice, should appoint a +Bráhman to the office of house-priest." HAUG'S _Autareya Bráhmanam. Vol. +II. p. 528_. + + + + +Page 110. + + +_There by the gate the Sáras screamed._ + +The Sáras or Indian Crane is a magnificent bird easily domesticated and +speedily constituting himself the watchman of his master's house and +garden. Unfortunately he soon becomes a troublesome and even dangerous +dependent, attacking strangers with his long bill and powerful wings, and +warring especially upon "small infantry" with unrelenting ferocity. + + + + +Page 120. + + +_My mothers or my sire the king._ + +All the wives of the king his father are regarded and spoken of by Ráma as +his mothers. + + + + +Page 125. + + +_Such blessings as the Gods o'erjoyed_ +_Poured forth when Vritra was destroyed._ + +"Mythology regards Vritra as a demon or Asur, the implacable enemy of +Indra, but this is not the primitive idea contained in the name of Vritra. +In the hymns of the Veda Vritra appears to be the thick dark cloud which +Indra the God of the firmament attacks and disperses with his +thunderbolt." GORRESIO. + +"In that class of Rig-veda hymns which there is reason to look upon as the +oldest portion of Vedic poetry, the character of Indra is that of a mighty +ruler of the firmament, and his principal feat is that of conquering the +demon _Vritra_, a symbolical personification of the cloud which obstructs +the clearness of the sky, and withholds the fructifying rain from the +earth. In his battles with Vritra he is therefore described as 'opening +the receptacles of the waters,' as 'cleaving the cloud' with his +'far-whirling thunderbolt,' as 'casting the waters down to earth,' and +'restoring the sun to the sky.' He is in consequence 'the upholder of +heaven, earth, and firmament,' and the god 'who has engendered the sun and +the dawn.' " CHAMBERS'S CYCLOPÆDIA, _Indra_. + +"Throughout these hymns two images stand out before us with overpowering +distinctness. On one side is the bright god of the heaven, as beneficent +as he is irresistible: on the other the demon of night and of darkness, as +false and treachorous as he is malignant.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} The latter (as his name Vritra, +from var, to veil, indicates) is pre-eminently the thief who hides away +the rain-clouds.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} But the myth is yet in too early a state to allow of the +definite designations which are brought before us in the conflicts of Zeus +with Typhôn and his monstrous progeny, of Apollôn with the Pythôn, of +Bellerophôn with Chimaira of Oidipous with the Sphinx, of Hercules with +Cacus, of Sigurd with the dragon Fafnir; and thus not only is Vritra known +by many names, but he is opposed sometimes by Indra, sometimes by Agni the +fire-god, sometimes by Trita, Brihaspati, or other deities; or rather +these are all names of one and the same god." COX'S _Mythology of the +Aryan Nations. Vol. II. p. 326_. + + + + +Page 125. + + +_And that prized herb whose sovereign power_ +_Preserves from dark misfortune's hour._ +"And yet more medicinal is it than that Moly, +That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave; +He called it Hæmony, and gave it me, +And bade me keep it as of sovereign use +'Gainst all enchantment, mildew, blast, or damp, +Or ghastly furies' apparition." _Comus._ + +The _Moly_ of Homer, which Dierbach considers to have been the _Mandrake_, +is probably a corruption of the Sanskrit _Múla_ a root. + + + + +Page 136. + + +_True is the ancient saw: the Neem_ +_Can ne'er distil a honeyed stream._ + +The Neem tree, especially in the Rains, emits a strong unpleasant smell +like that of onions. Its leaves however make an excellent cooling +poultice, and the Extract of Neem is an admirable remedy for cutaneous +disorders. + + + + +Page 152. + + +_Who of Nisháda lineage came._ + +The following account of the origin of the Nishádas is taken from Wilson's +_Vishnu Purána_, Book I. Chap. 15. "Afterwards the Munis beheld a great +dust arise, and they said to the people who were nigh: 'What is this?' And +the people answered and said: 'Now that the kingdom is without a king, the +dishonest men have begun to seize the property of their neighbours. The +great dust that you behold, excellent Munis, is raised by troops of +clustering robbers, hastening to fall upon their prey.' The sages, hearing +this, consulted, and together rubbed the thigh of the king (Vena), who had +left no offspring, to produce a son. From the thigh, thus rubbed, came +forth a being of the complexion of a charred stake, with flattened +features like a negro, and of dwarfish stature. 'What am I to do,' cried +he eagerly to the Munis. 'Sit down (nishída),' said they. And thence his +name was Nisháda. His descendants, the inhabitants of the Vindhyá +mountain, great Muni, are still called Nishádas and are characterized by +the exterior tokens of depravity." Professor Wilson adds, in his note on +the passage: "The Matsya says that there were born outcast or barbarous +races, Mlechchhas, as black as collyrium. The Bhágavata describes an +individual of dwarfish stature, with short arms and legs, of a complexion +as black as a crow, with projecting chin, broad flat nose, red eyes, and +tawny hair, whose descendants were mountaineers and foresters. The Padma +(Bhúmi Khanda) has a similar deccription; adding to the dwarfish stature +and black complexion, a wide mouth, large ears, and a protuberant belly. +It also particularizes his posterity as Nishádas, Kirátas, Bhillas, and +other barbarians and Mlechchhas, living in woods and on mountains. These +passages intend, and do not much exaggerate, the uncouth appearance of the +Gonds, Koles, Bhils, and other uncivilized tribes, scattered along the +forests and mountains of Central India from Behar to Khandesh, and who +are, not improbably, the predecessors of the present occupants of the +cultivated portions of the country. They are always very black, +ill-shapen, and dwarfish, and have countenances of a very African +character." + +Manu gives a different origin of the Nishádas as the offspring of a +Bráhman father and a Súdra mother. See Muir's _Sanskrit Texts_, Vol. I. p. +481. + + + + +Page 157. + + +_Beneath a fig-tree's mighty shade,_ +_With countless pendent shoots displayed._ +"So counselled he, and both together went +Into the thickest wood; there soon they chose +The fig-tree: not that kind for fruit renowned, +But such as at this day, to Indians known, +In Malabar or Deccan spreads her arms +Branching so broad and long, that in the ground +The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow +About the mother tree, a pillared shade +High overarched, and echoing walks between." + +_Paradise Lost_, Book IX. + + + + +Page 161. + + +_Now, Lakshman, as our cot is made,_ +_Must sacrifice be duly paid._ + +The rites performed in India on the completion of a house are represented +in modern Europe by the familiar "house-warming." + + + + +Page 169. + + +_I longed with all my lawless will_ +_Some elephant by night to kill._ + +One of the regal or military caste was forbidden to kill an elephant +except in battle. + +_Thy hand has made no Bráhman bleed._ + +"The punishment which the Code of Manu awards to the slayer of a Brahman +was to be branded in the forehead with the mark of a headless corpse, and +entirely banished from society; this being apparently commutable for a +fine. The poem is therefore in accordance with the Code regarding the +peculiar guilt of killing Brahmans; but in allowing a hermit who was not a +_Divija_ (twice-born) to go to heaven, the poem is far in advance of the +Code. The youth in the poem is allowed to read the Veda, and to accumulate +merit by his own as well as his father's pious acts; whereas the exclusive +Code reserves all such privileges to _Divijas_ invested with the sacred +cord." Mrs. SPEIR'S _Life in Ancient India_, p. 107. + + + + +Page 174. The Praise Of Kings + + +"Compare this magnificent eulogium of kings and kingly government with +what Samuel says of the king and his authority: And Samuel told all the +words of the LORD unto the people that asked of him a king. + +And he said, This will be the manner of the king that shall reign over +you: He will take your sons, and appoint them for himself, for his +chariots, and to be his horsemen: and some shall run before his chariots. + +And he will appoint him captains over thousands, and captains over +fifties, and will set them to work his ground, and to reap his harvest, +and to make his instrument of war, and instruments of his chariots. + +And he will take your daughters to be confectionaries, and to be cooks, +and to be bakers. + +And he will take your fields, and your vineyards and your oliveyards, even +the best of them, and give them to his servants. + +And he will take the tenth of your seed, and of your vineyards, and give +to his officers, and to his servants. + +And he will take your men-servants, and your maid-servants, and your +goodliest young men, and your asses, and put them to his work. + +He will take the tenth of your sheep: and ye shall be his servants. + +And ye shall cry out in that day because of your king which ye shall have +chosen you. I. _Samuel_, VIII. + +In India kingly government was ancient and consecrated by tradition: +whence to change it seemed disorderly and revolutionary: in Judæa +theocracy was ancient and consecrated by tradition, and therefore the +innovation which would substitute a king was represented as full of +dangers." GORRESIO. + + + + +Page 176. Sálmalí. + + +According to the Bengal recension Sálmalí appears to have been another +name of the Vipásá. Sálmalí may be an epithet signifying rich in Bombax +heptaphyllon. The commentator makes another river out of the word. + + + + +Page 178. Bharat's Return. + + +"Two routes from Ayodhyá to Rájagriha or Girivraja are described. That +taken by the envoys appears to have been the shorter one, and we are not +told why Bharat returned by a different road. The capital of the Kekayas +lay to the west of the Vipásá. Between it and the Satadru stretched the +country of the Báhíkas. Upon the remaining portion of the road the two +recensions differ. According to that of Bengal there follow towards the +east the river Indamatí, then the town Ajakála belonging to the Bodhi, +then Bhulingá, then the river Saradandá. According to the other instead of +the first river comes the Ikshumatí {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} instead of the first town Abhikála, +instead of the second Kulingá, then the second river. According to the +direction of the route both the above-mentioned rivers must be tributaries +of the Satadrú.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} The road then crossed the Yamuná (Jumna), led beyond that +river through the country of the Panchálas, and reached the Ganges at +Hástinapura, where the ferry was. Thence it led over the Rámagangá and its +eastern tributaries, then over the Gomati, and then in a southern +direction along the Málini, beyond which it reached Ayodhyá. In Bharat's +journey the following rivers are passed from west to east: _Kutikoshtiká_, +_Uttániká_, _Kutiká_, _Kapívatí_, _Gomatí_ according to Schlegel, and +_Hiranyavatí_, _Uttáriká_, _Kutilá_, _Kapívatí_, _Gomatí_ according to +Gorresio. As these rivers are to be looked for on the east of the Ganges, +the first must be the modern _Koh_, a small affluent of the Rámagangá, +over which the highway cannot have gone as it bends too far to the north. +The Uttániká or Uttáriká must be the Rámagangá, the Kutiká or Kutilá its +eastern tributary, Kosilá, the Kapívatí the next tributary which on the +maps has different names, _Gurra_ or above Kailas, lower down _Bhaigu_. +The Gomatí (Goomtee) retains its old name. The Máliní, mentioned only in +the envoys' journey, must have been the western tributary of the Sarayú +now called Chuká." LASSEN'S _Indische Alterthumskunde_, Vol. II. P. 524. + + + + +Page 183. + + +_What worlds await thee, Queen, for this?_ + +"Indian belief divided the universe into several worlds (_lokáh_). The +three principal worlds were heaven, earth, and hell. But according to +another division there were seven: Bhúrloka or the earth, Bhuvarloka or +the space between the earth and the sun, the seat of the Munis, Siddhas, +&c., Svarloka or the heaven of Indra between the sun and the polar star, +and the seventh Brahmaloka or the world of Brahma. Spirits which reached +the last were exempt from being born again." GORRESIO. + + + + +Page 203. + + +_When from a million herbs a blaze_ +_Of their own luminous glory plays._ + +This mention of lambent flames emitted by herbs at night may be compared +with Lucan's description of a similar phenomenon in the Druidical forest +near Marseilles, (_Pharsalia_, III. 420.). + +_Non ardentis_ fulgere incendia silvae. + +Seneca, speaking of Argolis, (Thyestes, Act IV), says:-- + +Tota solet + +Micare flamma silva, et excelsae trabes +_Ardent sine igni_. + +Thus also the bush at Horeb (Exod. II.) flamed, but was not consumed. + +The Indian explanation of the phenomenon is, that the sun before he sets +deposits his rays for the night with the deciduous plants. See _Journal of +R. As. S. Bengal_, Vol. II. p. 339. + + + + +Page 219. + + +_We rank the Buddhist with the thief._ + +Schlegel says in his Preface: "Lubrico vestigio insistit V. Cl. +_Heerenius, prof. Gottingensis_, in libro suo de commerciis veterum +populorum (OPP. Vol. HIST. XII, pag. 129,) dum putat, ex mentione +sectatorum Buddhae secundo libro Rameidos iniecta de tempore, quo totum +carmen sit conditum, quicquam legitime concludi posse.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Sunt versus +spurii, reiecti a Bengalis in sola commentatorum recensione leguntur. +Buddhas quidem mille fere annis ante Christum natun vixit: sed post multa +demumsecula, odiointernecivo inter Brachmanos et Buddhae sectatores orto, +his denique ex India pulsis, fingi potuit iniquissima criminatio, eos +animi immortalitatem poenasque et praemia in vita futura negare. Praeterea +metrum, quo concinnati sunt hi versus, de quo metro mox disseram, +recentiorem aetatem arguit.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Poenitet me nunc mei consilii, quod non +statim ab initio, {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} eiecerim cuncta disticha diversis a sloco vulgari +metris composita. Metra sunt duo: pariter ambo constant quatuor +hemistichiis inter se aequalibus, alterum undenarum syllabarum, alterum +duodenarum, hunc in modum: + +[-)] [-] [)] [-] | [-] [)] [)] [-] | [)] [-] [-)] +[)] [-] [)] [-] | [-] [)] [)] [-] | [)] [-] [)] [-)] + +Cuius generis versus in primo et secundo Rameidos libro nusquam nisi ad +finem capitum apposita inveniuntur, et huic loco unice sunt accommodata, +quasi peroratio, lyricis numeris assurgens, quo magis canorae cadant +clausulae: sicut musici in concentibus extremis omnium vocum +instrumentorumque ictu fortiore aures percellere amant. Igitur disticha +illa non ante divisionem per capita illatam addi potuerunt: hanc autem +grammaticis deberi argumento est ipse recensionum dissensus, manifesto +inde ortus, quod singuli editores in ea constituenda suo quisque iudicio +usi sunt; praeterquam quod non credibile est, poetam artis suae peritum +narrationem continuam in membra tam minuta dissecuisse. Porro discolor est +dictio: magniloquentia affectatur, sed nimis turgida illa atque effusa, +nec sententiarum pondere satis suffulta. Denique nihil fere novi affertur: +ampli ficantur prius dicta, rarius aliquid ex capite sequente anticipatur. +Si quis appendices hosce legendo transiliat, sentiet slocum ultimum cum +primo capitis proximi apte coagmentatum, nec sine vi quadam inde avulsum. +Eiusmodi versus exhibet utraque recensio, sed modo haec modo illa plures +paucioresve numero, et lectio interdum magnopere variat." + +"The narrative of Ráma's exile in the jungle is one of the most obscure +portions of the Rámáyana, inasmuch as it is difficult to discover any +trace of the original tradition, or any illustration of actual life and +manners, beyond the artificial life of self-mortification and selfdenial +said to have been led by the Brahman sages of olden time. At the same +time, however, the story throws some light upon the significance of the +poem, and upon the character in which the Brahmanical author desired to +represent Ráma; and consequently it deserves more serious consideration +than the nature of the subject-matter would otherwise seem to imply. + +"According to the Rámáyana, the hero Ráma spent more than thirteen years +of his exile in wandering amongst the different Brahmanical settlements, +which appear to have been scattered over the country between the Ganges +and the Godáveri; his wanderings extending from the hill of Chitra-kúta in +Bundelkund, to the modern town of Nasik on the western side of India, near +the source of the Godáveri river, and about seventy-five miles to the +north-west of Bombay. The appearance of these Brahmanical hermitages in +the country far away to the south of the Raj of Kasala, seems to call for +critical inquiry. Each hermitage is said to have belonged to some +particular sage, who is famous in Brahmanical tradition. But whether the +sages named were really contemporaries of Ráma, or whether they could +possibly have flourished at one and the same period, is open to serious +question. It is of course impossible to fix with any degree of certainty +the relative chronology of the several sages, who are said to have been +visited by Ráma; but still it seems tolerably clear that some belonged to +an age far anterior to that in which the Rámáyana was composed, and +probably to an age anterior to that in which Ráma existed as a real and +living personage; whilst, at least, one sage is to be found who could only +have existed in the age during which the Rámáyana was produced in its +present form. The main proofs of these inferences are as follows. An +interval of many centuries seems to have elapsed between the composition +of the Rig-Veda and that of the Rámáyana: a conclusion which has long been +proved by the evidence of language, and is generally accepted by Sanskrit +scholars. But three of the sages, said to have been contemporary with +Ráma, namely, Visvámitra, Atri and Agastya, are frequently mentioned in +the hymns of the Rig-Veda; whilst Válmíki, the sage dwelling at +Chitra-kúta, is said to have been himself the composer of the Rámáyana. +Again, the sage Atri, whom Ráma visited immediately after his departure +from Chitra-kúta, appears in the genealogical list preserved in the Mahá +Bhárata, as the progenitor of the Moon, and consequently as the first +ancestor of the Lunar race: whilst his grandson Buddha [Budha] is said to +have married Ilá, the daughter of Ikhsváku who was himself the remote +ancestor of the Solar race of Ayodhyá, from whom Ráma was removed by many +generations. These conclusions are not perhaps based upon absolute proof, +because they are drawn from untrustworthy authorities; but still the +chronological difficulties have been fully apprehended by the Pundits, and +an attempt has been made to reconcile all contradictions by representing +the sages to have lived thousands of years, and to have often re-appeared +upon earth in different ages widely removed from each other. Modern +science refuses to accept such explanations; and consequently it is +impossible to escape the conclusion that if Válmíki composed the Rámáyana +in the form of Sanskrit in which it has been preserved, he could not have +flourished in the same age as the sages who are named in the Rig-Veda." +WHEELER'S _History of India, Vol._ II, 229. + + + + +Page 249. + + +_And King Himálaya's Child._ + +Umá or Párvatí, was the daughter of Himálaya and Mená. She is the heroine +of Kálidása's _Kumára-Sambhava_ or _Birth of the War-God_. + + + + +Page 250. + + +_Strong Kumbhakarna slumbering deep_ +_In chains of never-ending sleep._ + +"Kumbhakarna, the gigantic brother of the titanic Rávan,--named from the +size of his ears which could contain a _Kumbha_ or large water-jar--had +such an appetite that he used to consume six months' provisions in a +single day. Brahmá, to relieve the alarm of the world, which had begun to +entertain serious apprehensions of being eaten up, decreed that the giant +should sleep six months at a time and wake for only one day during which +he might consume his six months' allowance without trespassing unduly on +the reproductive capabilities of the " _Scenes front the Rámáyan_, p. 153, +2nd Edit. + + + + +Page 257. + + +_Like Siva when his angry might_ +_Stayed Daksha's sacrificial rite._ + +The following spirited version of this old story is from the pen of Mr. W. +Waterfield: + +"This is a favorite subject of Hindú sculpture, especially on the temples +of Shiva, such as the caves of Elephanta and Ellora. It, no doubt, is an +allegory of the contest between the followers of Shiva and the worshippers +of the Elements, who observed the old ritual of the Vedas; in which the +name of Shiva is never mentioned. + +Daksha for devotion + Made a mighty feast: +Milk and curds and butter, + Flesh of bird and beast, +Rice and spice and honey, + Sweetmeats ghí and gur,(1038) +Gifts for all the Bráhmans, + Food for all the poor. +At the gates of Gangá(1039) + Daksha held his feast; +Called the gods unto it, + Greatest as the least. +All the gods were gathered + Round with one accord; +All the gods but Umá, + All but Umá's lord. +Umá sat with Shiva + On Kailása hill: +Round them stood the Rudras + Watching for their will. +Who is this that cometh + Lilting to his lute? +All the birds of heaven + Heard his music, mute. +Round his head a garland + Rich of hue was wreathed: +Every sweetest odour + From its blossoms breathed. +'Tis the Muni Nárad; + 'Mong the gods he fares, +Ever making mischief + By the tales he bears. +"Hail to lovely Umá! + Hail to Umá's lord! +Wherefore are they absent + For her father's board? +Multiplied his merits + Would be truly thrice, +Could he gain your favour + For his sacrifice." +Worth of heart was Umá; + To her lord she spake:-- +"Why dost thou, the mighty, + Of no rite partake? +Straight I speed to Daksha + Such a sight to see: +If he be my father, + He must welcome thee." +Wondrous was in glory + Daksha's holy rite; +Never had creation + Viewed so brave a sight. +Gods, and nymphs, find fathers, + Sages, Bráhmans, sprites,-- +Every diverge creature + Wrought that rite of rites. +Quickly then a quaking + Fell on all from far; +Umá stood among them + On her lion car. +"Greeting, gods and sages, + Greeting, father mine! +Work hath wondrous virtue, + Where such aids combine. +Guest-hall never gathered + Goodlier company: +Seemeth all are welcome. + All the gods but me." +Spake the Muni Daksha, + Stern and cold his tone:-- +"Welcome thou, too, daughter, + Since thou com'st alone. +But thy frenzied husband + Suits another shrine; +He is no partaker + Of this feast of mine. +He who walks in darkness + Loves no deeds of light: +He who herds with demons + Shuns each kindly sprite. +Let him wander naked.-- + Wizard weapons wield,-- +Dance his frantic measure + Round the funeral field. +Art thou yet delighted + With the reeking hide, +Body smeared with ashes. + Skulls in necklace tied? +Thou to love this monster? + Thou to plead his part! +Know the moon and Gangá + Share that faithless heart +Vainly art thou vying + With thy rivals' charms. +Are not coils of serpents + Softer than thine arms?" +Words like these from Daksha + Daksha's daughter heard: +Then a sudden passion + All her bosom stirred. +Eyes with fury flashing. + Speechless in her ire, +Headlong did she hurl her + 'Mid the holy fire. +Then a trembling terror + Overcame each one, +And their minds were troubled + Like a darkened sun; +And a cruel Vision, + Face of lurid flame, +Umá's Wrath incarnate, + From the altar came. +Fiendlike forms by thousands + Started from his side, +'Gainst the sacrificers + All their might they plied: +Till the saints availed not + Strength like theirs to stay, +And the gods distracted + Turned and fled away. +Hushed were hymns and chanting, + Priests were mocked and spurned; +Food defiled and scattered; + Altars overturned.-- +Then, to save the object + Sought at such a price, +Like a deer in semblance + Sped the sacrifice. +Soaring toward the heavens, + Through the sky it fled? +But the Rudras chasing + Smote away its head. +Prostrate on the pavement + Daksha fell dismayed:-- +"Mightiest, thou hast conquered + Thee we ask for aid. +Let not our oblations + All be rendered vain; +Let our toilsome labour + Full fruition gain." +Bright the broken altars + Shone with Shiva's form; +"Be it so!" His blessing + Soothed that frantic storm. +Soon his anger ceases, + Though it soon arise;-- +But the Deer's Head ever + Blazes in the skies." + +_Indian Ballads and other Poems._ + + + + +Page 286. Urvasí. + + +"The personification of Urvasî herself is as thin as that of Eôs or +Selênê. Her name is often found in the Veda as a mere name for the +morning, and in the plural number it is used to denote the dawns which +passing over men bring them to old age and death. Urvasî is the bright +flush of light overspreading the heaven before the sun rises, and is but +another form of the many mythical beings of Greek mythology whose names +take us back to the same idea or the same root. As the dawn in the Vedic +hymns is called Urûkî, the far-going (Têlephassa, Têlephos), so is she +also Uruasî, the wide-existing or wide-spreading; as are Eurôpê, +Euryanassa, Euryphassa, and many more of the sisters of Athênê and +Aphroditê. As such she is the mother of Vasishtha, the bright being, as +Oidipous is the son of Iokastê; and although Vasishtha, like Oidipous, has +become a mortal bard or sage, he is still the son of Mitra and Varuna, of +night and day. Her lover Purûravas is the counterpart of the Hellenic +Polydeukês; but the continuance of her union with him depends on the +condition that she never sees him unclothed. But the Gandharvas, impatient +of her long sojourn among mortal men resolved to bring her back to their +bright home; and Purûravas is thus led unwitingly to disregard her +warning. A ewe with two lambs was tied to her couch, and the Gandharvas +stole one of them; Urvasî said, 'They take away my darling, as if I lived +in a land where there is no hero and no man.' They stole the second, and +she upbraided her husband again. Then Purûravas looked and said, 'How can +that be a land without heroes or men where I am?' And naked he sprang up; +he thought it was too long to put on his dress. Then the Gandharvas sent a +flash of lighting, and Urvasî saw her husband naked as by daylight. Then +she vanished. 'I come back,' she said, and went. 'Then he bewailed his +vanished love in bitter grief.' Her promise to return was fulfilled, but +for a moment only, at the Lotos-lake, and Purûravas in vain beseeches her +to tarry longer. 'What shall I do with thy speech?' is the answer of +Urvasî. 'I am gone like the first of the dawns. Purûravas, go home again. +I am hard to be caught like the winds.' Her lover is in utter despair; but +when he lies down to die, the heart of Urvasî was melted, and she bids him +come to her on the last night of the year. On that night only he might be +with her; but a son should be born to him. On that day he went up to the +golden seats, and there Urvasî told him that the Gandharvas would grant +him one wish, and that he must make his choice. 'Choose thou for me,' he +said: and she answered, 'Say to them, Let me be one of you.' " + +COX'S _Mythology of the Aryan Nations._ Vol. I. p. 397. + + + + +Page 324. + + +_The sovereign of the Vánar race._ + +"Vánar is one of the most frequently occurring names by which the poem +calls the monkeys of Ráma's army. Among the two or three derivations of +which the word Vánar is susceptible, one is that which deduces it from +vana which signifies a wood, and thus Vánar would mean a forester, an +inhabitant of the wood. I have said elsewhere that the monkeys, the +Vánars, whom Ráma led to the conquest of Ceylon were fierce woodland +tribes who occupied the mountainous regions of the south of India, where +their descendants may still be seen. I shall hence forth promiscuously +employ the word _Vánar_ to denote those monkeys, those fierce combatants +of Ráma's army." GORRESIO. + + + + +Page 326. + + +_No change of hue, no pose of limb_ +_Gave sign that aught was false in him._ +_Concise, unfaltering, sweet and clear,_ +_Without a word to pain the ear,_ +_From chest to throat, nor high nor low,_ +_His accents came in measured flow._ + +Somewhat similarly in _The Squire's Tale_: + +"He with a manly voice said his message, +After the form used in his language, +Withouten vice of syllable or of letter. +And for his talë shouldë seem the better +Accordant to his wordës was his chere, +As teacheth art of speech them that it lere." + + + + +Page 329. Ráma's Alliance With Sugríva. + + +"The literal interpretation of this portion of the Rámáyana is indeed +deeply rooted in the mind of the Hindu. He implicitly believes that Ráma +is Vishnu, who became incarnate for the purpose of destroying the demon +Rávana: that he permitted his wife to be captured by Rávana for the sake +of delivering the gods and Bráhmans from the oppressions of the Rákshasa; +and that he ultimately assembled an army of monkeys, who were the progeny +of the gods, and led them against the strong-hold of Rávana at Lanká, and +delivered the world from the tyrant Rákshasa, whilst obtaining ample +revenge for his own personal wrongs. + +One other point seems to demand consideration, namely, the possibility of +such an alliance as that which Ráma is said to have concluded with the +monkeys. This possibility will of course be denied by modern critics, but +still it is interesting to trace out the circumstances which seem to have +led to the acceptance of such a wild belief by the dreamy and marvel +loving Hindi. The south of India swarms with monkeys of curious +intelligence and rare physical powers. Their wonderful instinct for +organization, their attachment to particular localities, their occasional +journeys in large numbers over mountains and across rivers, their +obstinate assertion of supposed rights, and the ridiculous caricature +which they exhibit of all that is animal and emotional in man, would +naturally create a deep impression.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Indeed the habits of monkeys well +deserve to be patiently studied; not as they appear in confinement, when +much that is revolting in their nature is developed, but as they appear +living in freedom amongst the trees of the forest, or in the streets of +crowded cities, or precincts of temples. Such a study would not fail to +awaken strange ideas; and although the European would not be prepared to +regard monkeys as sacred animals he might be led to speculate as to their +origin by the light of data, which are at present unknown to the +naturalist whose observations have been derived from the menagerie alone. + +Whatever, however, may have been the train of ideas which led the Hindú to +regard the monkey as a being half human and half divine, there can be +little doubt that in the Rámáyana the monkeys of southern India have been +confounded with what may be called the aboriginal people of the country. +The origin of this confusion may be easily conjectured. Perchance the +aborigines of the country may have been regarded as a superior kind of +monkeys; and to this day the features of the Marawars, who are supposed to +be the aborigines of the southern part of the Carnatic, are not only +different from those of their neighbours, but are of a character +calculated to confirm the conjecture. Again, it is probable that the army +of aborigines may have been accompanied by outlying bands of monkeys +impelled by that magpie-like curiosity and love of plunder which are the +peculiar characteristics of the monkey race; and this incident may have +given rise to the story that the army was composed of Monkeys." + +WHEELER'S _History of India. Vol. II. pp. 316 ff._ + + + + +Page 342. The Fall Of Báli. + + +"As regards the narrative, it certainly seems to refer to some real event +amongst the aboriginal tribes: namely, the quarrel between an elder and +younger brother for the possession of a Ráj; and the subsequent alliance +of Ráma with the younger brother. It is somewhat remarkable that Ráma +appears to have formed an alliance with the wrong party, for the right of +Báli was evidently superior to that of Sugríva; and it is especially +worthy of note that Ráma compassed the death of Báli by an act contrary to +all the laws of fair fighting. Again, Ráma seems to have tacitly +sanctioned the transfer of Tárá from Báli to Sugríva, which was directly +opposed to modern rule, although in conformity with the rude customs of a +barbarous age; and it is remarkable that to this day the marriage of both +widows and divorced women is practised by the Marawars, or aborigines of +the southern Carnatic, contrary to the deeply-rooted prejudice which +exists against such unions amongst the Hindús at large." + +WHEELER'S _History of India, Vol. II. 324_. + + + + +Page 370. The Vánar Host. + + +"The splendid Marutas form the army of Indras, the red-haired monkeys and +bears that of Râmas; and the mythical and solar nature of the monkeys and +bears of the Râmâyanam manifests itself several times. The king of the +monkeys is a sun-god. The ancient king was named Bâlin, and was the son of +Indras. His younger brother Sugrívas, he who changes his shape at pleasure +(Kâmarúpas), who, helped by Râmas, usurped his throne, is said to be own +child of the sun. Here it is evident that the Vedic antagonism between +Indras and Vishnus is reproduced in a zoological and entirely apish form. +The old Zeus must give way to the new, the moon to the sun, the evening to +the morning sun, the sun of winter to that of spring; the young son +betrays and overthrows the old one.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Râmas, who treacherously kills the +old king of the monkeys, Bâlin, is the equivalent of Vishnus, who hurls +his predecessor Indras from his throne; and Sugrívas, the new king of the +monkeys resembles Indras when he promises to find the ravished Sítá, in +the same way as Vishnus in one of his incarnations finds again the lost +vedás. And there are other indications in the Râmâyanam of opposition +between Indras and the monkeys who assist Râmas. The great monkey +Hanumant, of the reddish colour of gold, has his jaw broken, Indras having +struck him with his thunderbolt and caused him to fall upon a mountain, +because, while yet a child, he threw himself off a mountain into the air +in order to arrest the course of the sun, whose rays had no effect upon +him. (The cloud rises from the mountain and hides the sun, which is unable +of itself to disperse it; the tempest comes, and brings flashes of +lightning and thunder-bolts, which tear the cloud in pieces.) + +The whole legend of the monkey Hanumant represents the sun entering into +the cloud or darkness, and coming out of it. His father is said to be now +the wind, now the elephant of the monkeys (Kapikunjaras), now Kesarin, the +long-haired sun, the sun with a mane, the lion sun (whence his name of +_Kesarinah putrah_). From this point of view, Hanumant would seem to be +the brother of Sugrívas, who is also the offspring of the sun.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} + +All the epic monkeys of the _Râmâyanam_ are described in the twentieth +canto of the first book by expressions which very closely resemble those +applied in the Vedic hymns to the Marutas, as swift as the tempestuous +wind, changing their shape at pleasure, making a noise like clouds, +sounding like thunder, battling, hurling mountain-peaks, shaking great +uprooted trees, stirring up the deep waters, crushing the earth with their +arms, making the clouds fall. Thus Bâlin comes out of the cavern as the +sun out of the cloud.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} + +But the legend of the monkey Hanumant presents another curious resemblance +to that of Samson. Hanumant is bound with cords by Indrajit, son of +Rávanas; he could easily free himself, but does not wish to do so. Rávanas +to put him to shame, orders his tail to be burned, because the tail is the +part most prized by monkeys.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} + +The tail of Hanumant, which sets fire to the city of the monsters, is +probably a personification of the rays of the morning or spring sun, which +sets fire to the eastern heavens, and destroys the abode of the nocturnal +or winter monsters." + +DE GUBERNATIS, _Zoological Mythology_, Vol. II. pp. 100 ff. + +"The Jaitwas of Rajputana, a tribe politically reckoned as Rajputs, +nevertheless trace their descent from the monkey-god Hanuman, and confirm +it by alleging that their princes still bear its evidence in a tail-like +prolongation of the spine; a tradition which has probably a real +ethnological meaning, pointing out the Jaitwas as of non-Aryan +race."(1040) TYLOR'S _Primitive Culture_, Vol. I. p. 341. + + + + +Page 372. + + +The names of peoples occurring in the following _slokas_ are omitted in +the metrical translation: + +"Go to the Brahmamálas,(1041) the Videhas,(1042) the Málavas,(1043) the +Kásikosalas,(1044) the Mágadnas,(1045) the Pundras,(1046) and the +Angas,(1047) and the land of the weavers of silk, and the land of the +mines of silver, and the hills that stretch into the sea, and the towns +and the hamlets that are about the top of Mandar, and the +Karnaprávaranas,(1048) and the Oshthakarnakas,(1049) and the +Ghoralohamukhas,(1050) and the swift Ekapádakas,(1051) and the strong +imperishable Eaters of Men, and the Kirátas(1052) with stiff hair-tufts, +men like gold and fair to look upon: And the Eaters of Raw Fish, and the +Kirátas who dwell in islands, and the fierce Tiger-men(1053) who live amid +the waters." + + + + +Page 374. + + +"Go to the Vidarbhas(1054) and the Rishtikas(1055) and the +Mahishikas,(1056) and the Matsyas(1057) and Kalingas(1058) and the +Kausikas(1059) {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} and the Andhras(1060) and the Pundras(1061) and the +Cholas(1062) and the Pandyas(1063) and the Keralas,(1064) Mlechchhas(1065) +and the Pulindas(1066) and the Súrasenas,(1067) and the Prasthalas and the +Bharatas and Madrakas(1068) and the Kámbojas(1069) and the Yavanas(1070) +and the towns of the Sakas(1071) and the Varadas."(1072) + + + + +Page 378. Northern Kurus. + + +Professor Lassen remarks in the Zeitschrift für die Kunde des +Morgenlandes, ii. 62: "At the furthest accessible extremity of the earth +appears Harivarsha with the northern Kurus. The region of Hari or Vishnu +belongs to the system of mythical geography; but the case is different +with the Uttara Kurus. Here there is a real basis of geographical fact; of +which fable has only taken advantage, without creating it. The Uttara +Kurus were formerly quite independent of the mythical system of _dvípas_, +though they were included in it at an early date." Again the same writer +says at p. 65: "That the conception of the Uttara Kurus is based upon an +actual country and not on mere invention, is proved (1) by the way in +which they are mentioned in the Vedas; (2) by the existence of Uttara Kuru +in historical times as a real country; and (3) by the way in which the +legend makes mention of that region as the home of primitive customs. To +begin with the last point the Mahábhárata speaks as follows of the freer +mode of life which women led in the early world, Book I. verses 4719-22: +'Women were formerly unconfined and roved about at their pleasure, +independent. Though in their youthful innocence they abandoned their +husbands, they were guilty of no offence; for such was the rule in early +times. This ancient custom is even now the law for creatures born as +brutes, which are free from lust and anger. This custom is supported by +authority and is observed by great rishis, and it is _still practiced +among the northern Kurus_.' + +"The idea which is here conveyed is that of the continuance in one part of +the world of that original blessedness which prevailed in the golden age. +To afford a conception of the happy condition of the southern Kurus it is +said in another place (M.-Bh, i. 4346.) 'The southern Kurus vied in +happiness with the northern Kurus and with the divine rishis and bards.' + +Professor Lassen goes on to say: 'Ptolemy (vi. 16.) is also acquainted +with _Uttara Kuru_. He speaks of a mountain, a people, and a city called +_Ottorakorra_. Most of the other ancient authors who elsewhere mention +this name, have it from him. It is a part of the country which he calls +Serica; according to him the city lies twelve degrees west from the +metropolis of Sera, and the mountain extends from thence far to the +eastward. As Ptolemy has misplaced the whole of eastern Asia beyond the +Ganges, the _relative_ position which he assigns will guide us better that +the absolute one, which removes _Ottorakorra_ so far to the east that a +correction is inevitable. According to my opinion the _Ottorakorra_ of +Ptolemy must be sought for to the east of Kashgar.' Lassen also thinks +that Magasthenes had the Uttara Kurus in view when he referred to the +Hyperboreans who were fabled by Indian writers to live a thousand years. +In his Indian antiquities, (Ind. Alterthumskunde, i. 511, 512. and note,) +the same writer concludes that though the passages above cited relative to +the Uttara Kurus indicate a belief in the existence of a really existing +country of that name in the far north, yet that the descriptions there +given are to be taken as pictures of an ideal paradise, and not as founded +on any recollections of the northern origin of the Kurus. It is probable, +he thinks, that some such reminiscences originally existed, and still +survived in the Vedic era, though there is no trace of their existence in +latter times." MUIR'S _Sanskrit Texts_, Vol. II. pp. 336, 337. + + + + +Page 428. + + +_Trust to these mighty Vánars._ + +The corresponding passage in the Bengal recension has "these silvans in +the forms of monkeys, vánaráh kapirupinah." "Here it manifestly appears," +says Gorresio, "that these hosts of combatants whom Ráma led to the +conquest of Lanká (Ceylon) the kingdom and seat of the Hamitic race, and +whom the poem calls monkeys, were in fact as I have elsewhere observed, +inhabitants of the mountainous and southern regions of India, who were +wild-looking and not altogether unlike monkeys. They were perhaps the +remote ancestors of the Malay races." + + + + +Page 431. + + +_"Art thou not he who slew of old_ +_The Serpent-Gods, and stormed their hold."_ + +All these exploits of Rávan are detailed in the _Uttarakánda_, and +epitomized in the Appendix. + + + + +Page 434. + + +_Within the consecrated hall_. + +The Bráhman householder ought to maintain three sacred fires, the +_Gárhapatya_, the _Ahavaniya_ and the _Dakshina_. These three fires were +made use of in many Brahmanical solemnities, for example in funeral rites +when the three fires were arranged in prescribed order. + + + + +Page 436. + + +_Fair Punjikasthalá I met._ + +"I have not noticed in the Úttara Kánda any story about the daughter of +Varuna, but the commentator on the text (VI 60, 11) explains the allusion +to her thus: + +"The daughter of Varuna was Punjikasthalí. On her account, a curse of +Brahmá, involving the penalty of death, [was pronounced] on the rape of +women." MUIR, _Sanskrit Texts_, Part IV. Appendix. + + + + +Page 452. + + +_"__Shall no funereal honours grace_ +_The parted lord of Raghu's race?__"_ + +"Here are indicated those admirable rites and those funeral prayers which +Professor Müller has described in his excellent work, _Die +Todtenbestattung bei den Brahmanen_, Sítá laments that the body of Ráma +will not be honoured with those rites and prayers, nor will the Bráhman +priest while laying the ashes from the pile in the bosom of the earth, +pronounce over them those solemn and magnificent words: 'Go unto the +earth, thy mother, the ample, wide, and blessed earth.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} And do thou, O +Earth, open and receive him as a friend with sweet greeting: enfold him in +thy bosom as a mother wraps her child in her robes.' " GORRESIO. + + + + +Page 462. + + + _Each glorious sign_ +_That stamps the future queen is mine_. + +We read in Josephus that Caesar was so well versed in chiromancy that when +one day a _soi-disant_ son of Herod had audience of him, he at once +detected the impostor because his hand was destitute of all marks of +royalty. + + + + +Page 466. + + +_In battle's wild Gandharva dance_. + +"Here the commentator explains: 'the battle resembled the dance of the +Gandharvas,' in accordance with the notion of the Gandharvas entertained +in his day. They were regarded as celestial musicians enlivening with +their melodies Indra's heaven and the banquets of the Gods. But the +Gandharvas before becoming celestial musicians in popular tradition, were +in the primitive and true signification of the name heroes, spirited and +ardent warriors, followers of Indra, and combined the heroical character +with their atmospherical deity. Under this aspect the dance of the +Gandharvas may be a very different thing from what the commentator means, +and may signify the horrid dance of war." GORRESIO. + +The Homeric expression is similar, "to dance a war-dance before Ares." + + + + +Page 470. + + +_By Anaranya's lips of old._ + +"The story of Anaranya is told in the Uttara Kanda of the Rámáyana.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} +Anaranya a descendant of Ixváku and King of Ayodhyá, when called upon to +fight with Rávana or acknowledge himself conquered, prefers the former +alternative; but his army is overcome, and he himself is thrown from his +chariot. + +When Rávana triumphs over his prostrate foe, the latter says that he has +been vanquished not by him but by fate, and that Rávana is only the +instrument of his overthrow; and he predicts that Rávana shall one day be +slain by his descendant Ráma." _Sanskrit Texts_, IV., Appendix. + + + + +Page 497. + + +"With regard to the magic image of Sítá made by Indrajit, we may observe +that this thoroughly oriental idea is also found in Greece in Homer's +Iliad, where Apollo forms an image of Æneas to save that hero beloved by +the Gods: it occurs too in the Æneid of Virgil where Juno forms a +fictitious Æneas to save Turnus: + + Tum dea nube cava tenuem sine viribus umbram +In faciem Æneæ (visu mirabile monstrum) +Dardaniis ornat telis; clipeumque jubasque +Divini assimulat capitis; dat inania verba; +Dat sine mente sonum, gressusque effingit euntis. + +(_Æneidos_, lib. X.)" GORRESIO. + + + + +Page 489. + + +_"To Raghu's son my chariot lend."_ + +"Analogous to this passage of the Rámáyana, where Indra sends to Ráma his +own chariot, his own charioteer, and his own arms, is the passage in the +Æneid where Venus descending from heaven brings celestial arms to her son +Æneas when he is about to enter the battle: + + At Venus æthereos inter dea candida nimbos +Dona fereus aderat;{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} +{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} +Arma sub adversa posuit radiantia quercum. +Ille, deæ donis et tanto lætus honore, +Expleri nequit, atque oculus per singula volvit, +Miraturque, interque manus et brachia versat +Terribilem cristis galeam flammasque vomentem, +Fatiferumque ensem, loricam ex ære rigentem. + +(_Æneidos_, lib. VIII)" GORRESIO. + + + + +Page 489. + + +_Agastya came and gently spake._ + +"The Muni or saint Agastya, author of several Vedic hymns, was celebrated +in Indo-Sanskrit tradition for having directed the first brahmanical +settlements in the southern regions of India; and the Mahábhárata gives +him the credit of having subjected those countries, expelled the +Rákshases. and given security to the solitary ascetics, who were settled +there. Hence Agastya was regarded in ancient legend as the conqueror and +ruler of the southern country. This tradition refers to the earliest +migrations made by the Sanskrit Indians towards the south of India. To +Agastya are attributed many marvellous mythic deeds which adumbrate and +veil ancient events; some of which are alluded to here and there in the +Rámáyana." GORRESIO. + +The following is the literal translation of the Canto, text and +commentary, from the Calcutta edition: + +Having found Ráma weary with fighting and buried in deep thought, and +Rávan standing before him ready to engage in battle, the holy Agastya, who +had come to see the battle, approached Ráma and spoke to him thus: "O +mighty Ráma, listen to the old mystery by which thou wilt conquer all thy +foes in the battle. Having daily repeated the Ádityahridaya (the delighter +of the mind of the Sun) the holy prayer which destroys all enemies (of him +who repeats it) gives victory, removes all sins, sorrows and distress, +increases life, and which is the blessing of all blessings, worship the +rising and splendid sun who is respected by both the Gods and demons, who +gives light to all bodies and who is the rich lord of all the worlds, (To +the question why this prayer claims so great reverence; the sage answers) +Since yonder(1073) sun is full of glory and all gods reside in him (he +being their material cause) and bestows being and the active principle on +all creatures by his rays; and since he protects all deities, demons and +men with his rays. + +He is Brahmá,(1074) Vishnu,(1075) Siva,(1076) Skanda,(1077) +Prajápati,(1078) Mahendra,(1079) Dhanada,(1080) Kála,(1081) Yáma,(1082) +Soma,(1083) Apàm Pati _i.e._ The lord of waters, Pitris,(1084) +Vasus,(1085) Sádhyas,(1086) Asvins,(1087) Maruts,(1088) Manu,(1089) +Váyu,(1090) Vahni,(1091) Prajá,(1092) Prána,(1093) Ritukartá,(1094) +Prabhákara,(1095) (Thou,(1096) art) Aditya,(1097) Savitá,(1098) +Súrya,(1099) Khaga,(1100) Púshan,(1101) Gabhastimán,(1102) +Suvarnasadrisa,(1103) Bhánu,(1104) Hiranyaretas,(1105) Divákara,(1106) +Haridasva,(1107) Sahasrárchish,(1108) Saptasapti,(1109) Marichimán,(1110) +Timironmathana,(1111) Sambhu,(1112) Twashtá,(1113) Mártanda,(1114) +Ansumán,(1115) Hiranyagarbha,(1116) Sisira,(1117) Tapana,(1118) +Ahaskara,(1119) Ravi,(1120) Agnigarbha,(1121) Aditiputra,(1122) +Sankha,(1123) Sisiranásana,(1124) Vyomanátha,(1125) Tamobhedí,(1126) +Rigyajussámapáraga,(1127) Ghanavríshti,(1128) Apám-Mitra,(1129) +Vindhyavíthíplavangama,(1130) Átapí,(1131) Mandalí,(1132) Mrityu (death), +Pingala,(1133) Sarvatápana,(1134) Kavi,(1135) Visva,(1136) +Mahátejas,(1137) Rakta,(1138) Sarvabhavodbhava.(1139) The Lord of stars, +planets, and other luminous bodies, Visvabhávana,(1140) +Tejasvinám-Tejasvi,(1141) Dwádasátman:(1142) I salute thee. I salute thee +who art the eastern mountain. I salute thee who art the western mountain. +I salute thee who art the Lord of all the luminous bodies. I salute thee +who art the Lord of days. + +I respectfully salute thee who art Jaya,(1143) Jayabhadra,(1144) +Haryasa,(1145) O Thou who hast a thousand rays, I repeatedly salute thee. +I repeatedly and respectfully salute thee who art Áditya, I repeatedly +salute thee who art Ugra,(1146) Víra,(1147) and Sáranga.(1148) I salute +thee who openest the lotuses (or the lotus of the heart). I salute thee +who art furious. I salute thee who art the Lord of Brahmá, Siva and +Vishnu. I salute thee who art the sun, Ádityavarchas,(1149) splendid, +Sarvabhaksha,(1150)and Raudravapush.(1151) + +I salute thee who destroyest darkness, cold and enemies: whose form is +boundless, who art the destroyer of the ungrateful; who art Deva;(1152) +who art the Lord of the luminous bodies, and who appearest like the heated +gold. I salute thee who art Hari,(1153) Visvakarman,(1154) the destroyer +of darkness, and who art splendid and Lokasákshin.(1155) Yonder sun +destroys the whole of the material world and also creates it. Yonder sun +dries (all earthly things), destroys them and causes rain with his rays. +He wakes when our senses are asleep; and resides within all beings. Yonder +sun is Agnihotra(1156) and also the fruit obtained by the performer of +Agnihotra. He is identified with the gods, sacrifices, and the fruit of +the sacrifices. He is the Lord of all the duties known to the world, if +any man, O Rághava, in calamities, miseries, forests and dangers, prays to +yonder sun, he is never overwhelmed by distress. + +Worship, with close attention Him the God of gods and the Lord of the +world; and recite these verses thrice, whereby thou wilt be victorious in +the battle. O brave one, thou wilt kill Rávana this very instant." + +Thereupon Agastya having said this went away as he came. The glorious Ráma +having heard this became free from sorrow. Rághava whose senses were under +control, being pleased, committed the hymn to memory, recited it facing +the sun, and obtained great delight. The brave Ráma having sipped water +thrice and become pure took his bow, and seeing Rávana, was delighted, and +meditated on the sun. + + + + +Page 492. Rávan's Funeral. + + +"In the funeral ceremonies of India the fire was placed on three sides of +the pyre; the _Dakshina_ on the south, the _Gárhapatya_ on the west, and +the _Áhavaníya_ on the east. The funeral rites are not described in detail +here, and it is therefore difficult to elucidate and explain them. The +poem assigns the funeral ceremonies of Aryan Brahmans to the Rákshases, a +race different from them in origin and religion, in the same way as Homer +sometimes introduces into Troy the rites of the Grecian cult." GORRESIO. + +Mr. Muir translates the description of the funeral from the Calcutta +edition, as follows: "They formed, with Vedic rites, a funeral pile of +faggots of sandal-wood, with _padmaka_ wood, _usira_ grass, and sandal, +and covered with a quilt of deer's hair. They then performed an unrivalled +obsequial ceremony for the Ráxasa prince, placing the sacrificial ground +to the S.E. and the fire in the proper situation. They cast the ladle +filled with curds and ghee on the shoulder(1157) of the deceased; he (?) +placed the car on the feet, and the mortar between the thighs. Having +deposited all the wooden vessels, the [upper] and lower fire-wood, and the +other pestle, in their proper places, they departed. The Ráxasas having +then slain a victim to their prince in the manner prescribed in the +Sástras, and enjoined by great rishis, cast [into the fire] the coverlet +of the king saturated with ghee. They then, Vibhíshana included, with +afflicted hearts, adorned Rávana with perfumes and garlands, and with +various vestments, and besprinkled him with fried grain. Vibhíshana having +bathed, and having, with his clothes wet, scattered in proper form _tila_ +seeds mixed with _darbha_ grass, and moistened with water, applied the +fire [to the pile]." + + + + +Page 496. + + +The following is a literal translation of Brahmá's address to Ráma +according to the Calcutta edition, text and commentary: + +"O Ráma, how dost thou, being the creator of all the world, best of all +those who have profound knowledge of the Upanishads and all-powerful as +thou art, suffer Sítá to fall in the fire? How dost thou not know thyself +as the best of the gods? Thou art one of the primeval Vasus,(1158) and +also their lord and creator. Thou art thyself the lord and first creator +of the three worlds. Thou art the eighth (that is Mahádeva) of the +Rudras,(1159) and also the fifth(1160) of the Sádhyas.(1161) (The poet +describes Ráma as made of the following gods) The Asvinikumáras (the twin +divine physicians of the gods) are thy ears; the sun and the moon are thy +eyes; and thou hast been seen in the beginning and at the end of creation. +How dost thou neglect the daughter of Videha (Janaka} like a man whose +actions are directed by the dictates of nature?" Thus addressed by Indra, +Brahmá and the other gods, Ráma the descendant of Raghu, lord of the world +and the best of the virtuous, spoke to the chief of the gods. "As I take +myself to be a man of the name of Ráma and son of Dasaratha, therefore, +sir, please tell me who I am and whence have I come." "O thou whose might +is never failing," said Brahmá to Kákutstha the foremost of those who +thoroughly know Brahmá, "Thou art Náráyana,(1162) almighty, possessed of +fortune, and armed with the discus. Thou art the boar(1163) with one tusk; +the conqueror of thy past and future foes. Thou art Brahmá true and +eternal or undecaying. Thou art Visvaksena,(1164) having four arms; Thou +art Hrishíkesa,(1165) whose bow is made of horn; Thou art Purusha,(1166) +the best of all beings; Thou art one who is never defeated by any body; +Thou art the holder of the sword (named Nandaka). Thou art Vishnu (the +pervader of all); blue in colour: of great might; the commander of armies; +and lord of villages. Thou art truth. Thou art embodied intelligence, +forgiveness, control over the senses, creation, and destruction. Thou art +Upendra(1167) and Madhusúdana.(1168) Thou art the creator of Indra, the +ruler over all the world, Padmanábha,(1169) and destroyer of enemies in +the battle. The divine Rishis call thee shelter of refugees, as well as +the giver of shelter. Thou hast a thousand horns,(1170) a hundred +heads.(1171) Thou art respected of the respected; and the lord and first +creator of the three worlds. Thou art the forefather and shelter of +Siddhas,(1172) and Sádhyas.(1173) Thou art sacrifices; Vashatkára,(1174) +Omkára.(1175) Thou art beyond those who are beyond our senses. There is +none who knows who thou art and who knows thy beginning and end. Thou art +seen in all material objects, in Bráhmans, in cows, and also in all the +quarters, sky and streams. Thou hast a thousand feet, a hundred heads, and +a thousand eyes. Thou hast borne the material objects and the earth with +the mountains; and at the bottom of the ocean thou art seen the great +serpent. O Ráma, Thou hast borne the three worlds, gods, Gandharvas,(1176) +and demons. I am, O Ráma, thy heart; the goddess of learning is thy +tongue; the gods are the hairs of thy body; the closing of thy eyelids is +called the night: and their opening is called the day. The Vedas are thy +Sanskáras.(1177) Nothing can exist without thee. The whole world is thy +body; the surface of the earth is thy stability." + +O Srívatsalakshana, fire is thy anger, and the moon is thy favour. In the +time of thy incarnation named Vámana, thou didst pervade the three worlds +with thy three steps; and Mahendra was made the king of paradise by thee +having confined the fearful Bali.(1178) Sítá (thy wife) is Lakshmí; and +thou art the God Vishnu,(1179) Krishna,(1180) and Prajápati. To kill Rávan +thou hast assumed the form of a man; therefore, O best of the virtuous, +thou hast completed this task imposed by us (gods). O Ráma, Rávana has +been killed by thee: now being joyful (i.e. having for some time reigned +in the kingdom of Ayodhyá,) go to paradise. O glorious Ráma, thy power and +thy valour are never failing. The visit to thee and the prayers made to +thee are never fruitless. Thy devotees will never be unsuccessful. Thy +devotees who obtain thee (thy favour) who art first and best of mankind, +shall obtain their desires in this world as well as in the next. They who +recite this prayer, founded on the Vedas (or first uttered by the sages), +and the old and divine account of (Ráma) shall never suffer defeat." + + + + +Page 503. The Meeting. + + +The _Bharat-Miláp_ or meeting with Bharat, is the closing scene of the +dramatic representation of Ráma's great victory and triumphant return +which takes place annually in October in many of the cities of Northern +India. The Rám-Lalá or Play of Ráma, as the great drama is called, is +performed in the open air and lasts with one day's break through fifteen +successive days. At Benares there are three nearly simultaneous +performances, one provided by H. H. the Maharajah of Benares near his +palace at Ramnaggur, one by H. H. the Maharajah of Vizianagram near the +Missionary settlement at Sigra and at other places in the city, and one by +the leading gentry of the city at Chowká Ghát near the College. The scene +especially on the great day when the brothers meet is most interesting: +the procession of elephants with their gorgeous howdahs of silver and gold +and their magnificently dressed riders with priceless jewels sparkling in +their turbans, the enthusiasm of the thousands of spectators who fill the +streets and squares, the balconies and the housetops, the flowers that are +rained down upon the advancing car, the wild music, the shouting and the +joy, make an impression that is not easily forgotten. + +_Still on his head, well trained in lore_ +_Of duty, Ráma's shoes he bore._ + +Ráma's shoes are here regarded as the emblems of royalty or possession. We +may compare the Hebrew "Over Edom will I cast forth my shoe." A curiously +similar passage occurs in LYSCHANDER'S _Chronicon Greenlandiæ Rhythmicon_: + +"Han sendte til Irland sin skiden skoe, +Og böd den Konge. Som der monne boe, +Han skulde dem hæderlig bære +Pan Juuledag i sin kongelig Pragt, +Og kjende han havde sit Rige og Magt +Af Norges og Quernes Herre." + +He sent to Ireland his dirty shoes, +And commanded the king who lived there +To wear them with honour +On Christmas Day in his royal state, +And to own that he had his kingdom and power +From the Lord of Norway and the Isles. +_Notes & Queries, March 30, 1872._ + + + + +Final Notes. + + +I end these notes with an extract which I translate from Signor Gorresio's +Preface to the tenth volume of his Rámáyan, and I take this opportunity of +again thankfully acknowledging my great obligations to this eminent +Sanskritist from whom I have so frequently borrowed. As Mr. Muir has +observed, the Bengal recension which Signor Gorresio has most ably edited +is throughout an admirable commentary on the genuine Rámáyan of northern +India, and I have made constant reference to the faithful and elegant +translation which accompanies the text for assistance and confirmation in +difficulties: + +"Towards the southern extremity and in the island of Lanká (Ceylon) there +existed undoubtedly a black and ferocious race, averse to the Aryans and +hostile to their mode of worship: their ramifications extended through the +islands of the Archipelago, and some traces of them remain in Java to this +day. + +The Sanskrit-Indians, applying to this race a name expressive of hatred +which occurs in the Vedas as the name of hostile, savage and detested +beings, called it the Rákshas race: it is against these Rákshases that the +expedition of Ráma which the Rámáyan celebrates is directed. The +Sanskrit-Indians certainly altered in their traditions the real character +of this race: they attributed to it physical and moral qualities not found +in human nature; they transformed it into a race of giants; they +represented it as monstrous, hideous, truculent, changing forms at will, +blood-thirsty and ravenous, just as the Semites represented the races that +opposed them as impious, horrible and of monstrous size. But +notwithstanding these mythical exaggerations, which are partly due to the +genius of the Aryans so prone to magnify everything without measure, the +Rámáyan in the course of its epic narration has still preserved and noted +here and there some traits and peculiarities of the race which reveal its +true character. It represents the Rákshases as black of hue, and compares +them with black clouds and masses of black collyrium; it attributes to +them curly woolly hair and thick lips, it depicts them as loaded with +chains, collars and girdles of gold, and the other bright ornaments which +their race has always loved, and in which the kindred races of the Soudan +still delight. It describes them as worshippers of matter and force. They +are hostile to the religion of the Aryans whose rites and sacrifices they +disturb and ruin {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Such is the Rákshas race as represented in the Rámáyan; +and the war of the Aryan Ráma forms the subject of the epic, a subject +certainly real and historical as far as regards its substance, but greatly +exaggerated by the ancient myth. In Sanskrit-Indian tradition are found +traces of another struggle of the Aryans with the Rákshas races, which +preceded the war of Ráma. According to some pauranic legends, Kárttavírya, +a descendant of the royal tribe of the Yádavas, contemporary with +Parasurama and a little anterior to Ráma, attacked Lanká and took Rávan +prisoner. This well shows how ancient and how deeply rooted in the Aryan +race is the thought of this war which the Rámáyan celebrates. + +"But," says an eminent Indianist(1181) whose learning I highly appreciate, +"the Rámáyan is an allegorical epic, and no precise and historical value +can be assigned to it. Sítá signifies the furrow made by the plough, and +under this symbolical aspect has already appeared honoured with worship in +the hymns of the Rig-veda; Ráma is the bearer of the plough (this +assertion is entirely gratuitous); these two allegorical personages +represented agriculture introduced to the southern regions of India by the +race of the Kosalas from whom Ráma was descended; the Rákshases on whom he +makes war are races of demons and giants who have little or nothing human +about them; allegory therefore predominates in the poem, and the exact +reality of an historical event must not be looked for in it." Such is +Professor Weber's opinion. If he means to say that mythical fictions are +mingled with real events, + +Forsan in alcun vero suo arco percuote, + +as Dante says, and I fully concede the point. The interweaving of the myth +with the historical truth belongs to the essence, so to speak, of the +primitive epopeia. If Sítá is born, as the Rámáyan feigns, from the furrow +which King Janak opened when he ploughed the earth, not a whit more real +is the origin of Helen and Æneas as related in Homer and Virgil, and if +the characters in the Rámáyan exceed human nature, and in a greater degree +perhaps than is the case in analogous epics, this springs in part from the +nature of the subject and still more from the symbol-loving genius of the +orient. Still the characters of the Rámáyan, although they exceed more or +less the limits of human nature, act notwithstanding in the course of the +poem, speak, feel, rejoice and grieve according to the natural impulse of +human passions. But if by saying that the Rámáyan is an allegorical epic, +it is meant that its fundamental subject is nothing but allegory, that the +war of the Aryan Ráma against the Rákshas race is an allegory, that the +conquest of the southern region and of the island of Lanká is an allegory, +I do not hesitate to answer that such a presumption cannot be admitted and +that the thing is in my opinion impossible. Father Paolíno da S. +Bartolommeo,(1182) had already, together with other strange opinions of +his own on Indian matters, brought forward a similar idea, that is to say +that the exploit of Ráma which is the subject of the Rámáyan was a symbol +and represented the course of the sun: thus he imagined that Brahmá was +the earth, Vishnu the water, and that his avatárs were the blessings +brought by the fertilizing waters, etc. But such ideas, born at a time +when Indo-sanskrit antiquities were enveloped in darkness, have been +dissipated by the light of new studies. How could an epic so dear in India +to the memory of the people, so deeply rooted for many centuries in the +minds of all, so propagated and diffused through all the dialects and +languages of those regions, which had become the source of many dramas +which are still represented in India, which is itself represented every +year with such magnificence and to such crowds of people in the +neighbourhood of Ayodhyá, a poem welcomed at its very birth with such +favour, as the legend relates, that the recitation of it by the first +wandering Rhapsodists has consecrated and made famous all the places +celebrated by them, and where Ráma made a shorter or longer stay, how, I +ask, could such an epic have been purely allegorical? How, upon a pure +invention, upon a simple allegory, could a poem have been composed of +about fifty thousand verses, relating with such force and power the +events, and giving details with such exactness? On a theme purely +allegorical there may easily be composed a short mythical poem, as for +example a poem on Proserpine or Psyche: but never an epic so full of +traditions and historical memories, so intimately connected with the life +of the people, as the Rámáyan.(1183) Excessive readiness to find allegory +whenever some traces of symbolism occur, where the myth partly veils the +historical reality, may lead and often has led to error. What poetical +work of mythical times could stand this mode of trial? could there not be +made, or rather has there not been made a work altogether allegorical, out +of the Homeric poems? We have all heard of the ingenious idea of the +anonymous writer, who in order to prove how easily we may pass beyond the +truth in our wish to seek and find allegory everywhere, undertook with +keen subtlety to prove that the great personality of Napoleon I. was +altogether allegorical and represented the sun. Napoleon was born in an +island, his course was from west to east, his twelve marshals were the +twelve signs of the zodiac, etc. + +I conclude then, that the fundamental theme of the Rámáyan, that is to say +the war of the Aryan Ráma against the Rákshases, an Hamitic race settled +in the south, ought to be regarded as real and historical as far as +regards its substance, although the mythic element intermingled with the +true sometimes alters its natural and genuine aspect. + +How then did the Indo-Sanskrit epopeia form and complete itself? What +elements did it interweave in its progress? How did it embody, how did it +clothe the naked and simple primitive datum? We must first of all remember +that the Indo-European races possessed the epic genius in the highest +degree, and that they alone in the different regions they occupied +produced epic poetry {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} But other causes and particular influences combined +to nourish and develop the epic germ of the Sanskrit-Indians. Already in +the Rig-veda are found hymns in which the Aryan genius preluded, so to +speak, to the future epopeia, in songs that celebrated the heroic deeds of +Indra, the combats and the victories of the tutelary Gods of the Aryan +races over enemies secret or open, human or superhuman, the exploits and +the memories of ancient heroes. More recently, at certain solemn +occasions, as the very learned A. Weber remarks, at the solemnity, for +example of the Asvamedha or sacrifice of the horse, the praises of the +king who ordained the great rite were sung by bards and minstrels in songs +composed for the purpose, the memories of past times were recalled and +honourable mention was made of the just and pious kings of old. In the +_Bráhmanas_, a sort of prose commentaries annexed to the Vedas, are found +recorded stories and legends which allude to historical events of the past +ages, to ancient memories, and to mythical events. Such popular legends +which the _Bráhmanas_ undoubtedly gathered from tradition admirably suited +the epic tissue with which they were interwoven by successive hands.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Many +and various mythico-historical traditions, suitable for epic development, +were diffused among the Aryan races, those for example which are related +in the four chapters containing the description of the earth, the Descent +of the Ganges, etc. The epic genius however sometimes created beings of +its own and gave body and life to ideal conceptions. Some of the persons +in the Rámáyan must be, in my opinion, either personifications of the +forces of nature like those which are described with such vigour in the +_Sháhnámah_, or if not exactly created, exaggerated beyond human +proportions; others, vedic personages much more ancient than Ráma, were +introduced into the epic and woven into its narrations, to bring together +men who lived in different and distant ages, as has been the case in times +nearer to our own, in the epics, I mean, of the middle ages. + +In the introduction I have discussed the antiquity of the Rámáyan; and by +means of those critical and inductive proofs which are all that an +antiquity without precise historical dates can furnish I have endeavoured +to establish with all the certainty that the subject admitted, that the +original composition of the Rámáyan is to be assigned to about the twelfth +century before the Christian era. Not that I believe that the epic then +sprang to life in the form in which we now possess it; I think, and I have +elsewhere expressed the opinion, that the poem during the course of its +rhapsodical and oral propagation appropriated by way of episodes, +traditions, legends and ancient myths.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} But as far as regards the epic +poem properly so called which celebrates the expedition of Ráma against +the Rákshases I think that I have sufficiently shown that its origin and +first appearance should be placed about the twelfth century B.C.; nor have +I hitherto met with anything to oppose this chronological result, or to +oblige me to rectify or reject it.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} But an eminent philologist already +quoted, deeply versed in these studies, A. Weber, has expressed in some of +his writings a totally different opinion; and the authority of his name, +if not the number and cogency of his arguments, compels me to say +something on the subject. From the fact or rather the assumption that +Megasthenes(1184) who lived some time in India has made no mention either +of the Mahábhárat or the Rámáyan Professor Weber argues that neither of +these poems could have existed at that time; as regards the Rámáyan, the +unity of its composition, the chain that binds together its different +parts, and its allegorical character, show it, says Professor Weber, to be +much more recent than the age to which I have assigned it, near to our own +era, and according to him, later than the Mahábhárat. As for Megasthenes +it should be observed, that he did not write a history of India, much less +a literary history or anything at all resembling one, but a simple +description, in great part physical, of India: whence, from his silence on +literary matters to draw inferences regarding the history of Sanskrit +literature would be the same thing as from the silence of a geologist with +respect to the literature of a country whose valleys, mountains, and +internal structure he is exploring, to conjecture that such and such a +poem or history not mentioned by him did not exist at his time. We have +only to look at the fragments of Megasthenes collected and published by +Schwanbeck to see what was the nature and scope of his _Indica_.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} But only +a few fragments of Megasthenes are extant; and to pretend that they should +be argument and proof enough to judge the antiquity of a poem is to press +the laws of criticism too far. To Professor Weber's argument as to the +more or less recent age of the Rámáyan from the unity of its composition, +I will make one sole reply, which is that if unity of composition were +really a proof of a more recent age, it would be necessary to reduce by a +thousand years at least the age of Homer and bring him down to the age of +Augustus and Virgil; for certainly there is much more unity of +composition, a greater accord and harmony of parts in the Iliad and the +Odyssey than in the Rámáyan. But in the fine arts perfection is no proof +of a recent age: while the experience and the continuous labour of +successive ages are necessary to extend and perfect the physical or +natural sciences, art which is spontaneous in its nature can produce and +has produced in remote times works of such perfection as later ages have +not been able to equal." + + + + + +INDEX OF PRINCIPAL NAMES + + +Abhijit, 24. + +Abhikála, 176. + +Abhíra, 444. + +Abravanti, 374. + +Aditi, 31, 57, 58, 125, 201, 245, 246. + +Ádityas, 246, 403. + +Agastya, 5, 9, 40, 132, 151, 239, 240, 242, 244, 262, 265, 280, 375, 480, +491, 500. + +Ágneya, 178. + +Agni, 28, 74, 109, 132, 240, 243, 276. + +Agnivarna, 82, 220. + +Agniketu, 433 note, 459. + +Ahalyá, 60, 61, 62. + +Ailadhána, 178. + +Air, 2, 28, 203. + +Airávat, 14, 110, 178, 246, 256, 267, 335, 399, 402, 415, 429, 437, 472. + +Aja, 82, 220, 465. + +Ájas, 270, 271. + +Akampan, 265, 266, 468, 481. + +Aksha, 6, 420, 469, 471. + +Akurvati, 178. + +Alaka, 203 note. + +Alambúshá, 59, 198, 199. + +Alarka, 104, 107. + +Amarávatí, 13, 203 note, 286. + +Ambarísha, 72, 73, 74, 82, 220. + +Amúrtarajas, 46. + +Anala, 455 note. + +Analá, 245, 246. + +Ananta, 373. + +Anaranya, 81, 219, 470. + +Anasúyá, 9, 226, 227, 228. + +Andhak, 264. + +Andhras, 549. + +Anga, 38. + +Angad, 342, 348, 350, 352 ff., 363, 364 note, 367, 374, 379 ff, 391, 402, +425 ff., 439, 442, 445, 448, 456, 458, 459, 475, 479 ff, 505. + +Angas, 15, 18, 19, 21, 102. + +Angiras, 133, 245. + +Anjan, 14, 368, 369. + +Anjaná, 392. + +Ansudhána, 179. + +Ansumán, 50, 53, 56, 82, 220. + +Anuhláda, 370. + +Aparparyat, 178. + +Apartála, 175. + +Apsarases, 57, 198, 199, 229, 378. + +Aptoryám, 24. + +Arishta, 424, 425. + +Aríshtanemi, 49, 245, 392. + +Arjun, 86. + +Arjuna, 518. + +Arthasádhak, 14. + +Arun, 246, + +Arundhatí, 19, 244, 413. + +Aryaman, 124. + +Áryan, 92. + +Asamanj, 50, 53, 82, 138, 220. + +Asit, 81, 219. + +Asok, 14, 175. + +Asoka, 6, 10, 101, 205, 278, 296, 297, 300, 318, 321, 357, 403, 444, 452, +456. + +Asta, 377, 379 note. + +Asurs, 57, 58, 380, 381, 387, 394, 407, 413, 420. + +Asvagríva, 246. + +Asvamedh, 29, 236 note. + +Asvapati, 89, 131, 178, 183. + +Asvatarí, 346. + +Asvin, 371. + +Asvíní, 343. + +Asvins, 28, 36, 60, 62, 163, 246, 339, 343, 403, 490. + +Atikáya, 468, 478 ff. + +Atirátra, 24. + +Atri, 245, 561. + +Aurva, 373 note. + +Avantí, 374. + +Avindhya, 415. + +Ayodhyá, 4, 6, 11, 12, 14, 19, 32, 33, 38, 49, 70, 72, 79, 81, 83, 84, 85, +88, 95, 96, _passim_. + +Ayomukh, 374. + +Ayomukhi, 310. + +Báhíka, 176. + +Bahuputra, 245. + +Bala, 264. + +Bálakhilyas, 63, 235, 270, 271, 374. + +Bali, 43, 59, 107, 275, 302, 421. + +Báli, 5, 9, 29, 318, 324, 328, 329, 333 ff., 344, 356 ff., 362, 364, 366, +367, 379, 380, 391, 404, 412, 420, 440, 442, 448, 456, 458, 475, 478, 500, +503, 505. + +Barbars, 66. + +Beauty, 26, 29, 58, 88, 283, 455. + +Bhadamadrá, 246. + +Bhadra, 52. + +Bhaga, 124, 243. + +Bhagírath, 53, 54, 55, 82, 220, 372. + +Bhágírathí, 56. + +Bharadvája, 4, 7, 9, 10, 158, 159, 193, 196, 197, 199, 200, 201, 501. + +Bharat, 4, 9, 10, 32, 81, 83, 84, 88, 89, 94, 97, _passim_. + +Bharatas, 550. + +Bhárunda, 178. + +Bhásí, 246. + +Bhásakarna, 420. + +Bhava, 78. + +Bhímá, 198. + +Bhogavatí, 12 note, 267, 375. + +Bhrigu, 40, 63, 73, 81, 85, 86, 88, 133, 220. + +Brahmá, 6, 7, 10, 19, 25, 26, 33, 38, 39, 42, 46, 48, 54, 56, 59, 61, 63, +65, 67, 68, 74, 75, 77, 81, _passim_. + +Brahmadatta, 46, 47. + +Brahmádikas, 133 note. + +Bhrahmamálas, 548. + +Budha, 287. + +Buddhist, 219. + +Cancer, 109. + +Ceylon, 375 note. + +Chaitra, 91. + +Chaitraratha, 41, 178, 199, 267, 279, 315, 493. + +Chakraván, 376. + +Champá, 30. + +Chanda, 448. + +Chandála, 69, 70. + +Chandra, 464. + +Chatushtom, 24. + +Chitrá, 111, 250, 283. + +Chitrakúta, 4, 9, 160, 161, 197, 200, 201, 202, 209, 235, 236, 317, 416, +501. + +Chitraratha, 132. + +Cholas, 549. + +Chúli, 47. + +Chyavan, 81, 220. + +Dadhimukh, 426. + +Dadhivakra, 364 note. + +Daitya, 125, 152, 211, 246, 289, 306, 371, 418. + +Daksha, 36, 78, 228, 245, 257, 396. + +Dánav, 255, 270, 306, 307, 311, 371, 372, 382, 432, 443, 477. + +Dandak, 9, 99, 103, 117, 124, 126, 130, 166, 181, 199, 211, 238, 271, 374. + +Dandaká, 5. + +Danú, 245, 246, 313. + +Dapple skin, 64, 65. + +Dardar, 110, 198. + +Dardur, 448. + +Darímukha, 371. + +Dasárna, 374. + +Dasáratha, 3, 9, 12, 14, 16, 18 ff., 25, 26, 29, 30, 32, 34, 41, 61, 62, +77, 79, 80 ff., 91, 92, 95, _passim_. + +Dasyus, 444. + +Devamídha, 82. + +Devántak, 479, 480. + +Devarát, 77, 82, 86. + +Devasakhá, 378. + +Devavatí, 515. + +Dhanvantari, 57 note. + +Dhanyamáliní, 481. + +Dharmabhrit, 240. + +Dharmapál, 14. + +Dharmáranya, 46. + +Dharmavardhan, 179. + +Dhritaráshtrí, 246. + +Dhrishtaketu, 82. + +Dhrishti, 14, 202. + +Dhruvasandhi, 81, 219. + +Dhúmra, 371, 448. + +Dhúmráksha, 433 note, 465, 466. + +Dhúmrásva, 60, 481. + +Dhundhumár, 81, 171, 219. + +Dikshá, 44. + +Dilípa, 5 note, 53, 54, 56, 82, 171, 190, 220. + +Diti, 58, 59, 245, 246, 323. + +Dragon, 101. + +Dridhanetra, 68. + +Drishti, 202. + +Drona, 464. + +Drumakulya, 444. + +Dundubhi, 333, 335, 338. + +Durdhar, 420. + +Durdharsha, 433 note. + +Durjaya, 256 note. + +Durmukha, 432, 433 note. + +Durvásas, 521. + +Dúshan, 5, 250, 254, 255, 256, 258, 259, 261, 264, 265, 267-271, 294, 461, +502. + +Dwida, 364 note. + +Dwijihva, 474. + +Dwivid, 371, 428, 430, 449, 451, 475, 483, 484. + +Dwivida, 28. + +Dyumatsena, 129. + +Ekapádakas, 549. + +Ekasála, 179. + +Fame, 26, 283. + +Fate, 42, 68, 70, 71, 81, 119, 122, 123, 130, 181, 182, 195, 256, 293, +296, 309, 343, 349, 351, 354, 386, 404, 415, 439, 492. + +Fire, 2, 30, 45, 49, 218, 374. + +Fortune, 2, 58, 90, 94, 124, 146, 160, 188, 242, 244, 283, 449, 453. + +Fire-god, 74, 124, 328. + +Gádhi, 40, 48, 63, 64, 67, 68. + +Gaja, 364 note, 371, 429, 449, 459. + +Gálava, 518. + +Gandhamádan, 28, 159, 381, 429, 446, 476. + +Gandharva, 199, 256, 258, 259, 278, 285, 351, 396, 425, 437, 441, 454, +466, 468, 491. + +Gandharvas, 267, 270, 281, 283, 306, 307, 308, 318, 364, 370, 375, 377, +388, 394, 409, 420, 432, 449, 455, 472. + +Gandharví, 246, 265. + +Gangá, 7, 9, 37, 38, 45, 48, 49, _passim_. + +Garga, 133. + +Garud, 28, 29, 53, 246, 271, 373, 453, 465, 470, 475. + +Gautam, 60, 61, 62, 505. + +Gautama, 236. + +Gaváksha, 364 note, 429, 449, 468, 475, 476. + +Gavaya, 364 note, 371, 429, 448, 468. + +Gaya, 482. + +Gayá, 216. + +Gáyatrí, 243. + +Ghoralohamukhas, 548. + +Ghritáchí, 46, 198, 367. + +Girivraja, 46, 176. + +Glory, 301. + +Godávarí, 245, 247, 248, 249, 282, 303, 310, 374, 500. + +Gokarna, 54. + +Golabh, 351. + +Gomatí, 151, 179, 448, 502, 503. + +Gopa, 199. + +Guha, 4, 9, 152-156, 162, 192, 193, 194, 208, 501. + +Guhyakas, 378. + +Háhá, 198. + +Haihayas, 81, 219. + +Hanúmán, 5, 9, 10, 28, 324 ff., 328, 332, 337, 340, 350, 355, 359, 360, +363, 364 note, 368, 371, 374, 378 ff., 392 ff., 411 ff., 424 ff., 449, +456. + +Hara, 448. + +Harí, 246. + +Hárítas, 66. + +Haryasva, 82. + +Hástinapura, 176. + +Hastiprishthak, 179. + +Havishyand, 68. + +Hayagriva, 346, 376. + +Hemá, 198, 382. + +Hemachandra, 60. + +Heti, 515. + +Himálaya, 3, 14, 45, 48, 49, 50, 53, 54, 61, 67, 76, 81, 88. + +Himaváu, 380. + +Hiranyakasipu, 391 note, 407. + +Hiranyanábha, 500. + +Hládini, 55, 178. + +Honour, 283. + +Hotri, 24. + +Hrasvaromá, 82. + +Huhú, 198. + +Ikshumatí, 80, 176. + +Ikshváku, 2, 11, 13, 18, 24, 25, 35, 59, 60, 69, 70, 71, 73, 81, 82, 83, +90, 94, 96, 103, 219, 390. + +Ilval, 241. + +Indra, 2, 5, 13, 14, 25, 28, 29, 36, 39, 40, 43 ff., 50, 56, _passim_. + +Indrajánu, 371 note. + +Indrajít, 420, 432, 436, 437, 441, 455, 459 ff., 482, 485. + +Indrasatru, 433 note. + +Indrasira, 178. + +Irávatí, 246. + +Jábáli, 505. + +Jahnu, 55. + +Jáhnaví, 49, 55, 154. + +Jamadagni, 85, 86, 87, 119. + +Jámbaván, 371, 374, 388, 391, 393, 402, 425, 428, 429, 439, 446, 448, 456, +464, 483, 503. + +Jambudvip, 51, 373. + +Jambumálí, 418, 419, 420, 459, 460. + +Jambuprastha, 179. + +Jámbuvatu, 364 note. + +Janak, 4, 8, 9, 21, 45, 60, 61, 62, 77-85, 88, 090, _passim_. + +Janamejaya, 171. + +Janasthán, 225, 251, 254, 255, 264, 265, 271, 281, 282, 294, 295, 298, +308, 404, 439, 454, 463, 474, 493, 500. + +Játarúpa, 373. + +Jatáyu, 5. + +Jatáyus, 245, 247, 280, 288, 290, 308, 385 ff., 500, 502. + +Java, 231. + +Jáváli, 20, 80, 174, 217, 218, 219, 222. + +Jayá, 36. + +Jayanta, 14, 175. + +Jumna, 109, 501, 502. + +Jupiter, 144. + +Justice, 3, 35, 42, 149, 243, 346, 454. + +Jyotishtom, 24. + +Kabandha, 5, 9, 310-316, 446, 500. + +Kadrú, 246. + +Kadrumá, 246. + +Kaikasí, 516. + +Kaikeyí, 3, 4, 9, 27, 32, 88, 96-103, _passim_. + +Kailása, 38, 85, 92, 96, 110, 111, 267, 286, 357, 364, 368, 369, 373, 378, +421, 431. + +Kakustha, 35, 37, 82, 109, 110, 123, 137, 142, 147, 149, 151, 153, 192, +208, 211, 220, 311. + +Kalá, 378. + +Kálak, 246. + +Kálaká, 245, 246. + +Kálakámuka, 256 note. + +Kálamahí, 372. + +Kalinda, 178. + +Kálindí, 81, 160, 220. + +Kalinga, 179. + +Kalingas, 549, + +Kalmáshapáda, 82, 220. + +Káma 37, 38, 42, 283, 286, 296. + +Kámboja, 13, 66. + +Kámbojas, 66. + +Kámpili, 47 + +Kandu, 118, 380, 440. + +Kandarpa, 37, 74, 75, 76, 250, 269. + +Kanva, 440. + +Kanyákubja, 47. + +Kapil, 51, 52, 53. + +Kapivati, 179. + +Kardam, 245. + +Karnaprávaranas, 548. + +Kártikeya, 243. + +Kárttavírya, 518. + +Kási, 21, 102. + +Kásíkosalas, 548. + +Kasyap, 15, 16, 20, 30, 57-59, 80, 81, 86, 87, 91, 92, 118, 219, 215, +passim. + +Kátyáyan, 505. + +Kátyáyana, 80, 174. + +Kausalyá, 3, 23, 27, 30, 31, 79, 84, 88, 93, 94, 97, 98, 100, _passim_. + +Kausámbí, 46. + +Kausikas, 549. + +Kausikí, 48, 372. + +Káverí, 375. + +Kaustubha, 58. + +Kávya, 40. + +Kekaya, 21, 84, 88, 90, 137, 139, 174, 175. + +Kerala, 190. + +Keralas, 549. + +Kesarí, 371. + +Kesini, 49, 50. + +Khara, 9, 225, 250 ff., 281, 288, 290, 294, 295, 433, 446, 451, 461, 477, +493. + +Kinnars, 270, 306, 308, 318, 321, 373, 425. + +Kimpurushas, 28 note. + +Kirátas, 66, 549. + +Kírtirát, 82. + +Kirtirátha, 82. + +Kishkindhá, 5, 333, 334, 336, 338, 339, 351, 357, 362, 369, 385, 449, 464, +500. + +Kosal, 11, 102, 273, 307, 359, 418. + +Kosala, 151, 173. + +Krathan, 448. + +Kratu, 245. + +Krauncha, 310, 378, 476. + +Kraunchi, 246. + +Krisásva, 36, 41, 43. + +Krishna, 497. + +Krishnagiri, 448. + +Krishnveni, 374. + +Krita, 57, 395. + +Krodhavasá, 245, 246. + +Kshatriyas, 246, 346. + +Kukshi, 81, 219. + +Kulingá, 176. + +Kumbha, 484. + +Kumbhakarna, 10, 250, 399, 411, 435 ff., 441, 470 ff. + +Kúmuda, 364 note, 448. + +Kunjar, 375, 392. + +Kuru(s), North, 198, 203, 315. + +Kurujángal, 176. + +Kusa, 10, 46, 48, 63, 526. + +Kusadhwaj, 80, 82, 88. + +Kusámba, 46. + +Kusanábha, 46, 47, 48, 63. + +Kusásva, 60. + +Kusik, 33, 35, 36, 38, 44, 56, 62, 63, 68, 70 ff., 83. + +Kutíká, 179. + +Kutikoshtiká, 179. + +Kuvera, 23, 88, 109, 110, 111, 112, 198, 199, 204, 232, 267, 378, 422, +431, 432, 483. + +Lakshman, 4, 8, 11, 32, 36, 38, 40, 41, 44, 45, 56, 61, 79, 80, 82-84, 88, +91, 94, 97, 98, _passim_. + +Lakshmí, 88, 116, 146, 227, 400, 453, 462, 497. + +Lamba, 397. + +Lanká, 5, 10, 265, 267, 284, 286, 293, 295-297, 367, 387, 397, 411, 423 +ff., 439, 456 ff. + +Lankatankatá, 515. + +Lava, 10, 526. + +Lohitya, 179. + +Lokapálas, 485. + +Lomapád, 15, 16, 18, 19, 21, 30. + +Mádhaví, 520. + +Madhu, 26, 51, 57, 87, 95. + +Madhúka, 245. + +Madhushyand, 68, 74. + +Madrakas, 550. + +Magadh, 46, 102. + +Mágadnas, 548. + +Maghá, 83. + +Mahábír, 82. + +Mahábala, 433 note. + +Mahábhárat, 520, 524, 551, 554. + +Mahádeva, 61, 515. + +Mahákapála, 256 note, 260. + +Mahámáli, 256 note. + +Mahándhrak, 82. + +Mahápadma, 14, 52. + +Mahápárásva, 433, 436, 455, 478, 480, 487. + +Mahárath, 68. + +Maháromá, 82. + +Mahárun, 368. + +Mahásaila, 368. + +Mahendra, 28, 59, 86, 87, 88, 140, 167, 213, 243, 244, 307, 336, 344, 364, +368, 370, 375, 490, 531, 554. + +Maheswar, 369, 498. + +Mahí, 372. + +Máhishmatí, 518. + +Mahishikas, 549. + +Mahodar, 433 note, 450, 455, 474, 478 ff. + +Mahodaya, 46, 70, 71, 488. + +Maináka, 10, 394, 500 note. + +Mainda, 28, 364 note, 371, 428, 430, 439, 449, 451, 458, 482, 483. + +Makaráksha, 485 note. + +Malaja, 39. + +Málavas, 548. + +Malaya, 198, 324, 328, 375, 379, 430. + +Málí, 515, 516. + +Máliní, 175, 539. + +Malyaván, 454, 455. + +Mályavat, 515, 516. + +Mánas, 38. + +Mandakarni, 240. + +Mandákiní, 200, 201, 203, 209, 234, 235, 304, 322, 416 note. + +Mandalí, 556. + +Mandar, 57, 163, 285, 362, 368, 372, 399, 402, 421, 485, 491, 493, 525. + +Mandarí, 444. + +Mándhátá, 81, 219, 347, 518. + +Mándavi, 84. + +Mándavya, 226 note. + +Mandehas, 373. + +Mandodarí, 402, 492, 500, 516. + +Mandra, 14. + +Manibhadra, 441. + +Manthará, 40, 96, 97, 99, 187. + +Manu, 11, 12, 13, 81, 103, 151, 179, 219, 245, 246, 347, 490, 505, 537, +555. + +Marícha, 58. + +Márícha, 5, 9, 35, 39, 40, 44, 266, 271-280, 298. + +Maríchi, 81, 91, 219, 245. + +Maríchipas, 270, 271. + +Márkandeya, 80, 174. + +Mars, 93, 144, 339, 404, 445, 467, 489. + +Maru, 82, 220. + +Maruts, 25, 54, 59, 403, 517, 547, 555. + +Máshas, 270, 271. + +Mátali, 109, 142, 489, 491, 493. + +Matanga, 14, 246, 315, 316, 317, 318, 319, 336, 337, 380. + +Mátangí, 246. + +Mátarisva, 389. + +Matsya, 102, 523, 537, 549. + +Maya, 293, 382, 432, 488. + +Máyá, 293, 521. + +Máyáví, 333, 334, 379. + +Meghamáli, 256 note. + +Meghanáda, 10. + +Mekhal, 374. + +Mená, 49, 394 note. + +Menaká, 74. + +Mercury, 144, 339, 467. + +Meru, 4, 49, 92, 109, 110, 142, 182, 232, 236, 254, 291, 315, 368, 370, +377, 380, 418, 493. + +Merusavarni, 382. + +Mina, 32. + +Misrakesí, 199. + +Mithi, 82. + +Míthilá, 9 note, 21, 45, 60, 61, 78, 81, 83, 84, 85. + +Mitraghna, 459. + +Mlechchhas, 66, 537, 550. + +Modesty, 26. + +Moon, 30, 42, 58, 109 ff., 124, 218, 227, 243, 276, 367, 413, 414, 488. + +Mriga, 14. + +Mrigamandá, 246. + +Mrigí, 246. + +Mudgalya, 174. + +Nábhág, 82, 220. + +Nágadantá, 198. + +Nágas, 12, 55, 66, 68, 145, 270, 273, 395, 409, 413, 420, 427, 518. + +Nahush, 82, 95, 171, 190, 220, 307. + +Nairrit, 430. + +Nala, 10, 340, 364 note, 428, 444, 445, 448, 449, 468, 475, 483. + +Nalá, 246. + +Naliní, 55, 203, 204, 267, 436. + +Namuchi, 39, 261, 264, 275, 336. + +Nandá, 415. + +Nandan, 26, 175, 200, 267, 279, 315, 316, 426. + +Nandi, 249, 421. + +Nandigráma, 4, 6, 9, 224, 502, 503. + +Nandísvara, 471. + +Nandivardhan, 82. + +Nárad, 1, 2, 8, 9, 124, 199, 543. + +Narak, 479. + +Narántak, 479. + +Náráyan, 25, 26, 95, 393, 474, 497, 516, 517, 522, 535, 559. + +Narmadá, 374, 448, 518. + +Nikumbha, 432, 433 note, 437, 459, 484. + +Níla, 28, 340, 352, 360, 364 note, 371, 374, 428, 429, 430, 446, 448, 449, +456, 458, 459, 469, 472, 475, 482. + +Nimi, 77, 82. + +Nisakar, 389, 390. + +Nishádas, 4, 152, 192, 196, 271, 501, 537. + +Ocean, 10, 95, 144, 285, 286, 336, 346, 387. + +Oshthakarnakas, 548. + +Pahlavas, 66. + +Páka, 252, 297, 498. + +Pampá, 5, 9, 235, 293, 314-321, 327. + +Panas, 371, 428, 448, 464. + +Panasa, 455 note. + +Panchajan, 376. + +Panchála, 176, 539. + +Panchápsaras, 240. + +Panchavata, 9. + +Panchavatí, 244, 245, 247. + +Pándyas, 375, 549. + +Parásara, 517. + +Parasuráma, 119 note, 523, 531. + +Paravíráksha, 256 note. + +Páriyátra, 376, 448. + +Parjanya, 112, 174, 261, 448. + +Párvati, 249 note, 515, 542. + +Paulastya, 472. + +Paulomí, 29, 370. + +Pávaní, 55. + +Phálguní, 83. + +Pináka, 67. + +Pitris, 550. + +Prabháva, 363. + +Prachetas, 1, 245. + +Praghas, 420, 459, 460. + +Prágvat, 179. + +Prahasta, 399, 418, 419, 421, 422, 432 ff., 441, 451, 452, 455, 456, 471, +481. + +Praheti, 515. + +Prahláda, 391. + +Prajangha, 459, 460. + +Prajápati, 133 note, 554, 560. + +Pralamba, 175. + +Pramátha, 256 note. + +Pramathí, 260, 448. + +Pramati, 455 note. + +Prasenajit, 81, 219. + +Prasravan, 304, 357, 380, 383, 415, 426. + +Prasthalas, 550. + +Prasussruka, 82, 220. + +Pratindhak, 82. + +Pravargya, 22. + +Prayág, 158, 159, 196. + +Prithu, 81, 219. + +Prithusyáma, 256 note. + +Proshthapadá, 32. + +Pulah, 245. + +Pulastya, 35, 245, 254, 268, 288, 408, 515. + +Pulindas, 550. + +Puloma, 370. + +Punarvasu, 93. + +Pundaríká, 199. + +Pundras, 548, 549. + +Punjikasthalá, 436, 552. + +Puranda, 522. + +Purandara, 384, 522. + +Purúravas, 286, 544, 545. + +Purusha, 256 note, 559. + +Purushádak, 82, 220. + +Purushottam, 498, 517. + +Púshá, 124. + +Pushpak, 10, 80, 286, 499, 519. + +Pushya, 32, 90, 92, 94, 96, 98, 109, 126. + +Rabhasa, 433 note. + +Rághava, 5 note. + +Raghu, 5, 9, 22, 32 ff., 50, 56, 61, _passim_. + +Raghunandana, 522. + +Ráhu, 93, 223, 261, 272, 303, 351, 480. + +Rain, Lord of, 92, 222. + +Rájagriha, 174, 175. + +Ráma, _passim_. + +Rámáyana, 8 note, 10, 11, 541, 542. + +Rambhá, 75, 232, 448. + +Ramaná, 199. + +Rasmiketu, 433 note, 459. + +Rávan, 5, 9, 10, 25, 26, 32, 35, _passim_. + +Renuká, 63, 119. + +Richíka, 48, 73, 86. + +Right, 42, 68. + +Riksharajas, 386, 442. + +Rikshaván, 448. + +Rishabh, 373, 375, 429, 446, 476, 483. + +Rishtikas, 549. + +Rishyamúka, 9, 314, 315, 316, 318 ff., 332, 335, 339, 340, 353, 380, 500. + +Rishyasring, 15-24, 29, 30. + +Rohiní, 4, 112, 223, 227, 246, 251, 282, 287, 367, 404, 413, 445. + +Rohitas, 376, 558. + +Rudhirásana, 256 note. + +Rudra, 49, 57, 67, 77, 78, 162, 249, 257, 264, 283, 296, 378, 413, 483. + +Rudras, 246, 558. + +Rukminí, 517. + +Rumá, 346, 349, 350, 363, 366, 367, 371, 385, 403. + +Ruman, 371. + +Sachí, 29, 202, 234, 238, 276, 286, 297, 370, 408, 415, 494, 519, 522. + +Sádhyas, 490, 555, 558, 559. + +Sagar, 11, 50 ff., 82, 119, 137, 171, 441. + +Sahadeva, 60. + +Sahya, 429, 430. + +Saivya, 104, 107, 171, 533. + +Sakas, 66, 550. + +Sakra, 75, 234, 307, 313, 336, 344, 448, 464. + +Sálmalí, 176, 539. + +Sályakartan, 178. + +Sáman, 186, 326, 359. + +Sambar, 479. + +Sambara, 99, 100. + +Sampáti, 5, 9, 246, 364 note, 385, 387 ff., 412, 455 note, 459, 460, 464. + +Samprakshálas, 235. + +Sanatkumár, 15, 16. + +Sandhyá, 515. + +Sanháras, 36. + +Sanhráda, 474. + +Sanischar, 283. + +Sankan, 82. + +Sankar, 57, 335. + +Sánkásyá, 80, 81, 82, 83. + +Sankha, 555. + +Sankhan, 220, 432. + +Sanrochan, 448. + +Sansray, 245. + +Sántá, 16, 19, 29, 30, 31. + +Sarabh, 364 note, 439, 476. + +Sarabhanga, 9, 233, 234, 235, 236, 265, 502. + +Saradandá, 176, 539. + +Saramá, 452, 453. + +Sáran, 446, 447, 455. + +Sarandib, 375 note. + +Sáranga, 556. + +Sarasvatí, 178, 372, 516, 522. + +Sárdúla, 441, 449, 450. + +Sárdúlí, 246. + +Sarjú, 11, 20, 22, 36, 37, 38, 50, _passim_. + +Sárvabhauma, 429. + +Sarvartírtha, 179. + +Sasivindhus, 81, 219. + +Satabali, 371, 377, 379, 380. + +Satadrú, 178, 539. + +Satahradá, 231. + +Satánanda, 62, 63, 77, 79, 80, 81, 84. + +Satrughna, 32, 83, 84, 88, 89, 97, _passim_. + +Satrunjay, 504. + +Satyaván, 129. + +Satyavatí, 48. + +Sávitrí, 129, 227. + +Savarí, 315, 316, 317. + +Saumanas, 373. + +Sávarní, 377. + +Seven Rishis, 23. + +Sesha, 245. + +Siddhárth, 14, 137, 138, 175. + +Siddhas, 28 note, 540, 559. + +Síghraga, 82, 220. + +Silá, 178. + +Silávahá, 178. + +Sindhu, 13, 21, 55, 102, 372, 376, 443. + +Sinhiká, 10, 396. + +Sisir(a), 372, 555. + +Sítá, 4 ff., 55, 78, 79, 83, 84, 88, 93, _passim_. + +Siva, 4, 36, 42, 54, 55, 57, 67, 78, 82, 85, 86, 109, 110, 205, 523, 524, +543, 554. + +Skanda, 554. + +Soma, 52, 58, 198, 267, 378, 554. + +Somadatta, 60. + +Somadá, 47. + +Somagiri, 376, 378. + +Sona, 45, 48, 372. + +Sringavera, 4, 192, 196, 223, 501, 502. + +Srinjay, 60. + +Srutakírti, 84. + +Sthánu, 25, 37, 245. + +Sthánumatí, 179. + +Sthúláksha, 256 note, 260. + +Sthúlasiras, 313. + +Subáhu, 364 note. + +Suchakshu, 55. + +Suchandra, 60. + +Suchi, 238. + +Sudámá, 178. + +Sudáman, 81, 176. + +Sudarsan, 82, 83, 220, 373, 378, 448. + +Sudarsandwíp, 374. + +Sudhanvá, 82. + +Sudhriti, 82. + +Súdras, 6, 13, 246. + +Sugríva, 5, 6, 9, 28, 29, 314, 316, 318, 324 ff., 337, 339, 344, 346 ff., +371, 375 ff., 412, 414, 422, 424, 430, 439 ff., 446, 450, 519, 545. + +Suka, 442, 446, 447, 455 ff. + +Sukesa, 515, 516. + +Suketu, 39, 82. + +Sukí, 246. + +Sukra, 124, 210, 279, 384, 429. + +Sumáli, 515, 516. + +Sumágadhí, 46. + +Sumantra, 15, 16, 19, 21, 80, 92, _passim_. + +Sumati, 49, 50, 59, 60. + +Sumitrá, 27, 30, 32, 88, 94, _passim_. + +Sun, 93, 109, 110, 124, 243. + +Sunábha, 425. + +Sunahsepha, 72, 73, 74 + +Sunda, 35, 39. + +Sunetra, 364 note. + +Suparna, 53, 125, 231, 343, 349, 388. + +Supársva, 388. + +Supátala, 364 note. + +Suptaghna, 433 note. + +Surá, 58. + +Surabhí, 183, 246. + +Surapati, 522. + +Suras, 58. + +Surasá, 246, 395. + +Suráshtra, 21, 102, 376. + +Súrasenas, 550. + +Súrpanakhá, 5, 9, 249 ff., 267 ff., 288, 502. + +Súrya, 555. + +Súryáksha, 364 note. + +Súryasatru, 433 note. + +Súryaván, 375. + +Susandhi, 81, 219. + +Sushen, 28, 351, 364 note, 376, 379, 380. + +Sutanu, 199. + +Sutíkshna, 9, 234, 236, 237, 240, 241. + +Suváhu, 35, 44, 45, 146. + +Suvarat, 220. + +Suvela, 450, 456, 457. + +Suvíra, 21, 102. + +Suyajna, 20, 132. + +Svayambhu, 394. + +Svayamprabhá, 382. + +Svetáranya, 264. + +Swarga, 54, 101, 202, 493. + +Swarnaromá, 82. + +Sweta, 448. + +Syáma, 160. + +Syandiká, 151. + +Syenagámí, 256 note, 260. + +Syení, 246. + +Tádaká, 38, 39, 40, 41. + +Tádakeya, 266. + +Taittiríya, 132. + +Takshak, 432. + +Takshaka, 267. + +Tálajanghas, 81, 219. + +Tamasá, 7, 147, 148, 149. + +Támrá, 245, 246. + +Támraparní, 375. + +Tapan, 459, 555. + +Tára, 364 note, 379 ff. + +Tárá, 9, 336, 349 ff., 355, 359, 362, 363, 366, 367, 369, 371, 385, 403, +449, 546. + +Tárak, 430. + +Tárkshya, 214. + +Ten-necked, 250. + +Thirty-three Gods, 51. + +Thousand-eyed, 41, 59, 60, 74, 75, 76, 86, 90, 112, 252, 297, 504. + +Three-eyed God, 86. + +Thunderer, 234. + +Titan, 58, 67, 72, 79, 109, 114, 124. + +Toran, 179. + +Town-Destroyer, 59, 60. + +Trident, 68. + +Trident-wielding, 54, 57. + +Trijat, 133. + +Trijatá, 410, 463. + +Trikúta, 456, 457, 500, 515. + +Trinavindu, 515. + +Trípathagá, 56. + +Tripur, 306. + +Tripura, 85, 86. + +Trisanku, 68-72, 81, 144, 219, 429. + +Trisirá, 9. + +Trisirás, 256 note, 260, 261, 264, 267, 271, 478, 479, 480, 502. + +Tumburu, 198, 199, 232. + +Uchchaihsravas, 58, 522. + +Udayagiri, 379 note. + +Udávasu, 82. + +Ujjiháná, 179. + +Ukthya, 24. + +Umá, 49, 54, 205, 249 note, 471, 542, 543. + +Upasad, 22. + +Upasunda, 35. + +Upendra, 74, 559. + +Urmilá, 47, 83, 84, 88, 228. + +Urvasí, 286, 544, 545. + +Usanas, 382. + +Utkal, 374. + +Uttániká, 179, 539. + +Váhli, 13. + +Váhlíka, 376. + +Vahni, 555. + +Vaidyut, 375. + +Vaijayanta, 99, 179, 522. + +Vaikhánasas, 270, 271, 374. + +Vainateya, 388. + +Vaisravan, 265, 285, 378, 414, 515. + +Vaisyas, 246. + +Vaitaraní, 293. + +Vajra, 376. + +Vajradanshtra, 432, 433 note, 466, 467. + +Válmíki, 1, 7-11, 161, 519, 542. + +Vámadeva, 14, 79, 80, 91, 174, 222, 505. + +Vámana, 14, 523. + +Vána, 81, 219. + +Vanáyu, 13. + +Vangas, 102. + +Varadas, 550. + +Varun, 1 note, 28, 42, 67, 88, 109, 124, 228, 243, 272, 293, 338, 377, +383, 448, 471, 518. + +Varásya, 256 note. + +Varútha, 179. + +Vásav, 92. + +Vásava, 236, 522. + +Vasishtha, 14, 15, 19-22, 25, 32, _passim_. + +Vásudeva, 51, 52. + +Vásuki, 57, 267, 375, 432, 518, 522. + +Vasus, 14, 46, 246, 283, 377, 403, 522, 554. + +Vasvaukasárá, 203. + +Vátápi, 241, 280. + +Váyu, 59, 243, 369, 427, 428, 555. + +Vedas, 1 note, 3, 12, 22, 70, 89, 109, 125, 147, 184, 229, 559. + +Vedasrutí, 151. + +Vedavatí, 470, 517. + +Vegadarsí, 429, 446, 483. + +Vená, 448, 537. + +Vibhándak, 15, 16, 17, 18, 25. + +Vibhíshan, 6, 10, 250, 273, 415, 422, 423, 433 ff., 449 ff., 472, 483, 487 +ff., 516. + +Vibudh, 82. + +Vidarbha, 46, 49. + +Vidarbhas, 549. + +Videha, 79 ff., 129, 130, 142, 166, 195, 227. + +Videhan, 9, 79, 95, 104, 119, 125, _passim_. + +Videhas, 548. + +Vidyádharí, 203 note. + +Vidyujjihva, 450. + +Vidyunmáli, 364 note. + +Vidyutkesa, 515. + +Vihangama, 256 note. + +Vijay, 14, 36, 175, 505. + +Vikatá, 409. + +Vikrit, 245. + +Vikukshi, 81, 219. + +Vinata, 179, 379, 380, 388, 448. + +Vinatá, 53, 125, 246. + +Vindhya, 14, 51, 242, 364, 370, 374, 380. + +Vindu, 55. + +Vipásá, 176, 539. + +Vírabáhu, 364 note. + +Virádha, 5, 9, 229, 232, 404, 446, 502. + +Viráj, 124. + +Viramatsya, 178. + +Virochan, 40, 43. + +Virtue, 223, 272. + +Virúpáksha, 52, 420, 433, 459, 460, 487. + +Visákhás, 144, 430. + +Visálá, 56, 57, 59, 60, 62. + +Vishnu, 1 note, 2, 3, 25, 32, 40, _passim_. + +Visravas, 35, 309, 408, 515, 516. + +Visváchi, 198. + +Visvajit, 24. + +Visvakarmá, 28, 42, 198, 376, 387, 444, 445, 448, 499, 500, 515, 556. + +Visvámitra, 9, 32 ff., 39, 41, 44, 45, _passim_. + +Visvarúpa, 353. + +Visvas, 377. + +Visvávasu, 198. + +Visvedevas, 162. + +Vitardan, 474. + +Vivasvat, 81, 171, 219, 245, 386, 532. + +Vrana, 444. + +Vrihadratha, 82. + +Vrihaspati, 28, 31, 95, 124, 210, 307, 464, 517. + +Vritra, 125, 264, 288, 387, 487, 491, 536. + +Vulture-king, 9. + +War-god, 124, 476. + +Wind, 30, 218. + +Wind-god, 10, 36, 42, 68, 325, 326, 379, 392 ff., 417 ff., 449, 470, 478, +481, 488, 502, 503. + +Yavadwípa, 372. + +Yajnakopa, 433 note, 459. + +Yajush, 326. + +Yajnasatru, 256 note. + +Yaksha, 236 note, 306, 318, 363, 375, 394, 420, 422, 425, 431, 454, 458, +468. + +Yáma, 68, 71, 112, 117, 124, 140, 166, 171, 241, 248, 262, 275, 287, 313, +343 ff., 432, 437, 449, 472, 475, 496, 518, 554. + +Yamuná, 158, 159, 160, 178, 214, 223, 372. + +Yámun, 372. + +Yavanas, 66, 550. + +Yayáti, 82, 95, 107, 119, 163, 186, 307, 344. + +Yudhájit, 84, 88, 180, 190. + +Yúpáksha, 420, 472. + +Yuvanásva, 81, 219. + + + + + + +FOOTNOTES + + + 1 The MSS. vary very considerably in these stanzas of invocation: many + lines are generally prefixed in which not only the poet, but those + who play the chief parts in the poem are panegyrized. It is + self-apparent that they are not by the author of the Rámáyan + himself. + + 2 "Válmíki was the son of Varuna, the regent of the waters, one of + whose names is Prachetas. According to the _Adhyátmá Rámáyana_, the + sage, although a Bráhman by birth, associated with foresters and + robbers. Attacking on one occasion the seven Rishis, they + expostulated with him successfully, and taught him the _mantra_ of + Ráma reversed, or _Mará, Mará_, in the inaudible repetition of which + he remained immovable for thousands of years, so that when the sages + returned to the same spot they found him still there, converted into + a _valmík_ or ant-hill, by the nests of the termites, whence his + name of Válmíki." + + WILSON. _Specimens of the Hindu Theatre, Vol. I. p. 313_. + + "Válmíki is said to have lived a solitary life in the woods: he is + called both a _muni_ and a _rishi_. The former word properly + signifies an anchorite or hermit; the latter has reference chiefly + to wisdom. The two words are frequently used promiscuously, and may + both be rendered by the Latin _vates_ in its earliest meaning of + _seer_: Válmíki was both poet and seer, as he is said to have sung + the exploits of Ráma by the aid of divining insight rather than of + knowledge naturally acquired." SCHLEGEL. + + 3 Literally, _Kokila_, the Koïl, or Indian Cuckoo. Schlegel translates + "luscinium." + + 4 Comparison with the Ganges is implied, that river being called the + purifier of the world. + + 5 "This name may have been given to the father of Válmíki + allegorically. If we look at the derivation of the word (_pra_, + before, and _chetas_, mind) it is as if the poet were called the son + of Prometheus, the Forethinker." SCHLEGEL. + + 6 Called in Sanskrit also _Bála-Kánda_, and in Hindí _Bál-Kánd_, + _i.e._ the Book describing Ráma's childhood, _bála_ meaning a boy up + to his sixteenth year. + + 7 A divine saint, son of Brahmá. He is the eloquent messenger of the + Gods, a musician of exquisite skill, and the inventor of the _víná_ + or Indian lute. He bears a strong resemblance to Hermes or Mercury. + + 8 This mystic syllable, said to typify the supreme Deity, the Gods + collectively, the Vedas, the three spheres of the world, the three + holy fires, the three steps of Vishnu etc., prefaces the prayers and + most venerated writings of the Hindus. + + 9 This colloquy is supposed to have taken place about sixteen years + after Ráma's return from his wanderings and occupation of his + ancestral throne. + + 10 Called also Srí and Lakshmí, the consort of Vishnu, the Queen of + Beauty as well as the Dea Fortuna. Her birth "from the full-flushed + wave" is described in Canto XLV of this Book. + + 11 One of the most prominent objects of worship in the Rig-veda, Indra + was superseded in later times by the more popular deities Vishnu and + Siva. He is the God of the firmament, and answers in many respects + to the Jupiter Pluvius of the Romans. See _Additional Notes_. + + 12 The second God of the Trimúrti or Indian Trinity. Derived from the + root _vis_ to penetrate, the meaning of the name appears to be _he + who penetrates or pervades all things_. An embodiment of the + preserving power of nature, he is worshipped as a Saviour who has + nine times been incarnate for the good of the world and will descend + on earth once more. See _Additional Notes_ and Muir's Sanskrit Texts + _passim_. + + 13 In Sanskrit _devarshi_. Rishi is the general appellation of sages, + and another word is frequently prefixed to distinguish the degrees. + A _Brahmarshi_ is a theologian or Bráhmanical sage; a Rájarshi is a + royal sage or sainted king; a _Devarshi_ is a divine or deified sage + or saint. + +_ 14 Trikálajna_. Literally _knower of the three times_. Both Schlegel + and Gorresio quote Homer's. + + {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER OMICRON WITH DASIA AND OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER ETA WITH PSILI AND OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ETA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}' {~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON WITH PSILI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}, {~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH OXIA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}' {~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON WITH PSILI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER MU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}, + {~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH OXIA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}' {~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON WITH PSILI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}. + + "That sacred seer, whose comprehensive view, + The past, the present, and the future knew." + + The Bombay edition reads _trilokajna,_ _who knows the three worlds_ + (earth, air and heaven.) "It is by _tapas_ (austere fervour) that + rishis of subdued souls, subsisting on roots, fruits and air, obtain + a vision of the three worlds with all things moving and stationary." + MANU, XI. 236. + + 15 Son of Manu, the first king of Kosala and founder of the solar + dynasty or family of the Children of the Sun, the God of that + luminary being the father of Manu. + + 16 The Indians paid great attention to the art of physiognomy and + believed that character and fortune could be foretold not from the + face only but from marks upon the neck and hands. Three lines under + the chin like those at the mouth of a conch (_Sankha_) were regarded + as a peculiarly auspicious sign indicating, as did also the mark of + Vishnu's discus on the hand, one born to be a _chakravartin_ or + universal emperor. In the palmistry of Europe the line of fortune, + as well as the line of life, is in the hand. Cardan says that marks + on the nails and teeth also show what is to happen to us: "Sunt + etiam in nobis vestigia quædam futurorum eventuum in unguibus atque + etiam in dentibus." Though the palmy days of Indian chiromancy have + passed away, the art is still to some extent studied and believed + in. + + 17 Long arms were regarded as a sign of heroic strength. + + 18 "Veda means originally knowing or knowledge, and this name is given + by the Bráhmans not to one work, but to the whole body of their most + ancient sacred literature. Veda is the same word which appears in + the Greek {~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}, I know, and in the English wise, wisdom, to wit. The + name of Veda is commonly given to four collections of hymns, which + are respectively known by the names of Rig-veda, Yajur-veda, + Sáma-veda, and Atharva-veda." + + "As the language of the Veda, the Sanskrit, is the most ancient type + of the English of the present day, (Sanskrit and English are but + varieties of one and the same language,) so its thoughts and + feelings contain in reality the first roots and germs of that + intellectual growth which by an unbroken chain connects our own + generation with the ancestors of the Aryan race,--with those very + people who at the rising and setting of the sun listened with + trembling hearts to the songs of the Veda, that told them of bright + powers above, and of a life to come after the sun of their own lives + had set in the clouds of the evening. These men were the true + ancestors of our race, and the Veda is the oldest book we have in + which to study the first beginnings of our language, and of all that + is embodied in language. We are by nature Aryan, Indo-European, not + Semitic: our spiritual kith and kin are to be found in India, + Persia, Greece, Italy, Germany: not in Mesopotamia, Egypt, or + Palestine." + + _Chips from a German Workshop_, Vol. I. pp. 8. 4. + + 19 As with the ancient Persians and Scythians, Indian princes were + carefully instructed in archery which stands for military science in + general, of which, among Hindu heroes, it was the most important + branch. + + 20 Chief of the three queens of Dasaratha and mother of Ráma. + + 21 From _hima_ snow, (Greek {~GREEK SMALL LETTER CHI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER MU~}-{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMEGA WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}, Latin hiems) and _álaya_ abode, + the Mansion of snow. + + 22 The moon (_Soma_, _Indu_, _Chandra_ _etc._) is masculine with the + Indians as with the Germans. + + 23 Kuvera, the Indian Plutus, or God of Wealth. + + 24 The events here briefly mentioned will be related fully in the + course of the poem. The first four cantos are introductory, and are + evidently the work of a later hand than Valmiki's. + + 25 "Chandra, or the Moon, is fabled to have been married to the + twenty-seven daughters of the patriarch Daksha, or Asviní and the + rest, who are in fact personifications of the Lunar Asterisms. His + favourite amongst them was Rohiní to whom he so wholly devoted + himself as to neglect the rest. They complained to their father, and + Daksha repeatedly interposed, till, finding his remonstrances vain, + he denounced a curse upon his son-in-law, in consequence of which he + remained childless and became affected by consumption. The wives of + Chandra having interceded in his behalf with their father, Daksha + modified an imprecation which he could not recall, and pronounced + that the decay should be periodical only, not permanent, and that it + should alternate with periods of recovery. Hence the successive wane + and increase of the Moon. _Padma_, _Purána_, _Swarga-Khanda,_ Sec. + II. _Rohiní_ in Astronomy is the fourth lunar mansion, containing + five stars, the principal of which is Aldebaran." WILSON, _Specimens + of the Hindu Theatre. Vol. I. p._ 234. + + The Bengal recension has a different reading: + + "Shone with her husband like the light + Attendant on the Lord of Night." + + 26 The garb prescribed for ascetics by Manu. + + 27 "Mount Meru, situated like Kailása in the lofty regions to the north + of the Himálayas, is celebrated in the traditions and myths of + India. Meru and Kailása are the two Indian Olympi. Perhaps they were + held in such veneration because the Sanskrit-speaking Indians + remembered the ancient home where they dwelt with the other + primitive peoples of their family before they descended to occupy + the vast plains which extend between the Indus and the Ganges." + GORRESIO. + + 28 The third God of the Indian Triad, the God of destruction and + reproduction. See _Additional Notes_. + + 29 The epithet _dwija_, or _twice-born_, is usually appropriate to + Bráhmans, but is applicable to the three higher castes. Investiture + with the sacred thread and initiation of the neophyte into certain + religious mysteries are regarded as his regeneration or second + birth. + + 30 His shoes to be a memorial of the absent heir and to maintain his + right. Kálidása (Raghuvansa, XII. 17.) says that they were to be + _adhidevate_ or guardian deities of the kingdom. + + 31 Jatáyu, a semi-divine bird, the friend of Ráma, who fought in + defence of Sítá. + + 32 Raghu was one of the most celebrated ancestors of Ráma whose + commonest appellation is, therefore, Rághava or descendant of Raghu. + Kálidása in the _Raghuransa_ makes him the son of Dilípa and + great-grandfather of Ráma. See _Idylls from the Sanskrit_, "Aja" and + "Dilípa." + + 33 Dundhubi. + + 34 Literally _ten yojanas_. The yojana is a measure of uncertain length + variously reckoned as equal to nine miles, five, and a little less. + + 35 Ceylon. + + 36 The Jonesia Asoka is a most beautiful tree bearing a profusion of + red blossoms. + +_ 37 Brahmá_, the Creator, is usually regarded as the first God of the + Indian Trinity, although, as Kálidása says: + + "Of Brahmá, Vishnu, Siva, each may be + First, second, third, amid the blessed Three." + + Brahmá had guaranteed Rávan's life against all enemies except man. + + 38 Ocean personified. + + 39 The rocks lying between Ceylon and the mainland are still called + Ráma's Bridge by the Hindus. + + 40 "The Bráhmans, with a system rather cosmogonical than chronological, + divide the present mundane period into four ages or _yugas_ as they + call them: the Krita, the Tretá, the Dwápara, and the Kali. The + Krita, called also the Deva-yuga or that of the Gods, is the age of + truth, the perfect age, the Tretá is the age of the three sacred + fires, domestic and sacrificial; the Dwápara is the age of doubt; + the Kali, the present age, is the age of evil." GORRESIO. + + 41 The ancient kings of India enjoyed lives of more than patriarchal + length as will appear in the course of the poem. + + 42 Súdras, men of the fourth and lowest pure caste, were not allowed to + read the poem, but might hear it recited. + + 43 The three _slokes_ or distichs which these twelve lines represent + are evidently a still later and very awkward addition to the + introduction. + + 44 There are several rivers in India of this name, now corrupted into + _Tonse_. The river here spoken of is that which falls into the + Ganges a little below Allahabad. + + 45 "In Book II, Canto LIV, we meet with a saint of this name presiding + over a convent of disciples in his hermitage at the confluence of + the Ganges and the Jumna. Thence the later author of these + introductory cantos has borrowed the name and person, inconsistently + indeed, but with the intention of enhancing the dignity of the poet + by ascribing to him so celebrated a disciple." SCHLEGEL. + + 46 The poet plays upon the similarity in sound of the two words: + _soka_, means grief, _sloka_, the heroic measure in which the poem + is composed. It need scarcely be said that the derivation is + fanciful. + + 47 Brahmá, the Creator, is usually regarded as the first person of the + divine triad of India. The four heads with which he is represented + are supposed to have allusion to the four corners of the earth which + he is sometimes considered to personify. As an object of adoration + Brahmá has been entirely superseded by Siva and Vishnu. In the whole + of India there is, I believe, but one temple dedicated to his + worship. In this point the first of the Indian triad curiously + resembles the last of the divine fraternity of Greece, Aïdes the + brother of Zeus and Poseidon. "In all Greece, says Pausanias, there + is no single temple of Aïdes, except at a single spot in Elis." See + Gladstone's Juventus Mundi, p. 253. + + 48 The _argha_ or _arghya_ was a libation or offering to a deity, a + Bráhman, or other venerable personage. According to one authority it + consisted of water, milk, the points of Kúsa-grass, curds, clarified + butter, rice, barley, and white mustard, according to another, of + saffron, bel, unbroken grain, flowers, curds, dúrbá-grass, + kúsa-grass, and sesamum. + + 49 Sítá, daughter of Janak king of Míthilá. + + 50 "I congratulate myself," says Schlegel in the preface to his, alas, + unfinished edition of the Rámáyan, "that, by the favour of the + Supreme Deity, I have been allowed to begin so great a work; I glory + and make my boast that I too after so many ages have helped to + confirm that ancient oracle declared to Válmíki by the Father of + Gods and men: + + Dum stabunt montes, campis dum flumina current, + Usque tuum toto carmen celebrabitur orbe." + + 51 "The sipping of water is a requisite introduction of all rites: + without it, says the Sámha Purána, all acts of religion are vain." + COLEBROOKE. + + 52 The _darhha_ or _kusa_ (Pea cynosuroides), a kind of grass used in + sacrifice by the Hindus as _cerbena_ was by the Romans. + + 53 The direction in which the grass should be placed upon the ground as + a seat for the Gods, on occasion of offerings made to them. + + 54 Parasuráma or Ráma with the Axe. See Canto LXXIV. + + 55 Sítá. Videha was the country of which Míthilá was the capital. + + 56 The twin sons of Ráma and Sítá, born after Ráma had repudiated Sítá, + and brought up in the hermitage of Válmíki. As they were the first + rhapsodists the combined name Kusílava signifies a reciter of poems, + or an improvisatore, even to the present day. + + 57 Perhaps the bass, tenor, and treble, or quick, slow and middle + times. we know but little of the ancient music of the Hindus. + + 58 Eight flavours or sentiments are usually enumerated, love, mirth, + tenderness, anger, heroism, terror, disgust, and surprise; + tranquility or content, or paternal tenderness, is sometimes + considered the ninth. WILSON. See the _Sáhitya Darpana_ or _Mirror + of Composition_ translated by Dr. Ballantyne and Bábú Pramadádása + Mittra in the _Bibliotheca Indica._ + + 59 Saccharum Munja is a plant from whose fibres is twisted the sacred + string which a Bráhman wears over one shoulder after he has been + initiated by a rite which in some respects answers to confirmation. + + 60 A description of an Asvamedha or Horse Sacrifice is given in Canto + XIII. of this Book. + + 61 This exploit is related in Canto XL. + + 62 The Sarjú or Ghaghra, anciently called Sarayú, rises in the + Himalayas, and after flowing through the province of Oudh, falls + into the Ganges. + + 63 The ruins of the ancient capital of Ráma and the Children of the Sun + may still be traced in the present Ajudhyá near Fyzabad. Ajudhyá is + the Jerusalem or Mecca of the Hindus. + + 64 A legislator and saint, the son of Brahmá or a personification of + Brahmá himself, the creator of the world, and progenitor of mankind. + Derived from the root _man_ to think, the word means originally + _man_, the thinker, and is found in this sense in the Rig-veda. + + Manu as a legislator is identified with the Cretan Minos, as + progenitor of mankind with the German Mannus: "Celebrant carminibus + antiquis, quod unum apud illos memoriæ et annalium genus est, + Tuisconem deum terra editum, et filium Mannum, originem gentis + conditoresque." TACITUS, _Germania_, Cap. II. + + 65 The Sál (Shorea Robusta) is a valuable timber tree of considerable + height. + + 66 The city of Indra is called Amarávatí or Home of the Immortals. + + 67 Schlegel thinks that this refers to the marble of different colours + with which the houses were adorned. It seems more natural to + understand it as implying the regularity of the streets and houses. + + 68 The _Sataghní_ _i.e. centicide_, or slayer of a hundred, is + generally supposed to be a sort of fire-arms, or the ancient Indian + rocket; but it is also described as a stone set round with iron + spikes. + + 69 The Nágas (serpents) are demigods with a human face and serpent + body. They inhabit Pátála or the regions under the earth. Bhogavatí + is the name of their capital city. Serpents are still worshipped in + India. See Fergusson's _Tree and Serpent Worship_. + + 70 The fourth and lowest pure caste whose duty was to serve the three + first classes. + + 71 By forbidden marriages between persons of different castes. + + 72 Váhlí or Váhlíka is Bactriana; its name is preserved in the modern + Balkh. + + 73 The Sanskrit word Sindhu is in the singular the name of the river + Indus, in the plural of the people and territories on its banks. The + name appears as _Hidku_ in the cuneiform inscription of Darius' son + of Hystaspes, in which the nations tributary to that king are + enumerated. + + The Hebrew form is _Hodda_ (Esther, I. 1.). In Zend it appears as + _Hendu_ in a somewhat wider sense. With the Persians later the + signification of _Hind_ seems to have co-extended with their + increasing acquaintance with the country. The weak Ionic dialect + omitted the Persian _h_, and we find in Hecatæus and Herodotus {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER IOTA WITH PSILI AND OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~} + and {~GREEK SMALL LETTER ETA WITH DASIA~} {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER IOTA WITH PSILI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER KAPPA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ETA WITH OXIA~}. In this form the Romans received the names and + transmitted them to us. The Arabian geographers in their ignorance + that Hind and Sind are two forms of the same word have made of them + two brothers and traced their decent from Noah. See Lassen's + Indische Alterthumskunde Vol. I. pp. 2, 3. + + 74 The situation of Vanáyu is not exactly determined: it seems to have + lain to the north-west of India. + + 75 Kámboja was probably still further to the north-west. Lassen thinks + that the name is etymologically connected with _Cambyses_ which in + the cuneiform inscription of Behistun is written Ka(m)bujia. + + 76 The elephants of Indra and other deities who preside over the four + points of the compass. + + 77 "There are four kinds of elephants. 1 _Bhaddar_. It is well + proportioned, has an erect head, a broad chest, large ears, a long + tail, and is bold and can bear fatigue. 2 _Mand_. It is black, has + yellow eyes, a uniformly sized body, and is wild and ungovernable. 3 + _Mirg_. It has a whitish skin, with black spots. 4 _Mir_. It has a + small head, and obeys readily. It gets frightened when it thunders." + _Aín-i-Akbarí._. Translated by H. Blochmann, Aín 41, _The Imperial + Elephant Stables_. + + 78 Ayodhyá means _not to be fought against_. + + 79 Attendants of Indra, eight Gods whose names signify fire, light and + its phenomena. + + 80 Kasyap was a grandson of the God Brahmá. He is supposed to have + given his name to Kashmír = Kasyapa-míra, Kasyap's Lake. + + 81 The people of Anga. "Anga is said in the lexicons to be Bengal; but + here certainly another region is intended situated at the confluence + of the Sarjú with the Ganges, and not far distant from Dasaratha's + dominions." GORRESIO. It comprised part of Behar and Bhagulpur. + + 82 The Koïl or _kokila_ (Cuculus Indicus) as the harbinger of spring + and love is a universal favourite with Indian poets. His voice when + first heard in a glorious spring morning is not unpleasant, but + becomes in the hot season intolerably wearisome to European ears. + + 83 "Sons and Paradise are intimately connected in Indian belief. A man + desires above every thing to have a son to perpetuate his race, and + to assist with sacrifices and funeral rites to make him worthy to + obtain a lofty seat in heaven or to preserve that which he has + already obtained." GORRESIO. + + 84 One of the Pleiades and generally regarded as the model of wifely + excellence. + + 85 The Hindu year is divided into six seasons of two months each, + spring, summer, rains, autumn, winter, and dews. + + 86 It was essential that the horse should wander free for a year before + immolation, as a sign that his master's paramount sovereignty was + acknowledged by all neighbouring princes. + + 87 Called also Vidcha, later Tirabhukti, corrupted into the modern + Tirhut, a province bounded on the west and east by the Gaudakí and + Kausikí rivers, on the south by the Ganges, and on the north by the + skirts of the Himálayas. + + 88 The celebrated city of Benares. See Dr. Hall's learned and + exhaustive Monograph in the _Sacred City of the Hindus_, by the Rev. + M. A. Sherring. + + 89 Kekaya is supposed to have been in the Panjáb. The name of the king + was Asvapati (Lord of Horses), father of Dasaratha's wife Kaikeyí. + + 90 Surat. + + 91 Apparently in the west of India not far from the Indus. + + 92 "The Pravargya ceremony lasts for three days, and is always + performed twice a day, in the forenoon and afternoon. It precedes + the animal and Soma sacrifices. For without having undergone it, no + one is allowed to take part in the solemn Soma feast prepared for + the gods." Haug's _Aitareya Bráhmanam_. Vol. II. p. 41. note _q.v._ + +_ 93 Upasads_. "The Gods said, Let us perform the burnt offerings called + Upasads (_i.e._ besieging). For by means of an _Upasad_, _i.e._ + besieging, they conquer a large (fortified) town."--_Ibid._ p. 32. + + 94 The Soma plant, or Asclepias Acida. Its fermented juice was drunk in + sacrifice by the priests and offered to the Gods who enjoyed the + intoxicating draught. + + 95 "Tum in cærimoniarum intervallis Brachmanæ facundi, sollertes, + crebros sermones de rerum causis instituebant, alter alterum + vincendi cupidi. This public disputation in the assembly of Bráhmans + on the nature of things, and the almost fraternal connexion between + theology and philosophy deserves some notice; whereas the priests of + some religions are generally but little inclined to show favour to + philosophers, nay, sometimes persecute them with the most rancorous + hatred, as we are taught both by history and experience.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} This sloka + is found in the MSS. of different recensions of the Rámáyan, and we + have, therefore, the most trustworthy testimony to the antiquity of + philosophy among the Indians." SCHLEGEL. + + 96 The _Angas_ or appendices of the Vedas, pronunciation, prosody, + grammar, ritual, astronomy, and explanation of obscurities. + + 97 In Sanskrit _vilva_, the _Ægle Marmelos_. "He who desires food and + wishes to grow fat, ought to make his Yúpa (sacrificial post) of + Bilva wood." Haug's _Aítareya Bráhmanam. Vol. II._ p. 73. + + 98 The _Mimosa Catechu_. "He who desires heaven ought to make his Yúpa + of Khádira wood."--_Ibid._ + + 99 The _Butea Frondosa_. "He who desires beauty and sacred knowledge + ought to make his Yúpa of Palása wood."--_Ibid._ + + 100 The _Cardia Latifolia_. + + 101 A kind of pine. The word means literally the tree of the Gods. + Compare the Hebrew {~HEBREW LETTER AYIN~}{~HEBREW LETTER TSADI~}{~HEBREW LETTER YOD~} {~HEBREW LETTER YOD~}{~HEBREW LETTER HE~}{~HEBREW LETTER VAV~}{~HEBREW LETTER HE~} "trees of the Lord." + + 102 The Hindus call the constellation of Ursa Major the Seven Rishis or + Saints. + + 103 A minute account of these ancient ceremonies would be out of place + here. "Ágnishtoma is the name of a sacrifice, or rather a series of + offerings to fire for five days. It is the first and principal part + of the Jyotishtoma, one of the great sacrifices in which especially + the juice of the Soma plant is offered for the purpose of obtaining + Swarga or heaven." GOLDSTÜCKER'S DICTIONARY. "The _Ágnishtoma_ is + Agni. It is called so because they (the gods) praised him with this + Stoma. They called it so to hide the proper meaning of the word: for + the gods like to hide the proper meaning of words." + + "On account of four classes of gods having praised Agni with four + Stomas, the whole was called _Chatushtoma_ (containing four + Stomas)." + + "It (the Ágnishtoma) is called _Jyotishtoma_, for they praised Agni + when he had risen up (to the sky) in the shape of a light + (_jyotis_)." + + "This (Ágnishtoma) is a sacrificial performance which has no + beginning and no end." HAUG'S _Aitareya Bráhmanam_. + + The Atirátra, literally _lasting through the night_, is a division + of the service of the Jyotishtoma. + + The Abhijit, _the everywhere victorious_, is the name of a + sub-division of the great sacrifice of the Gavámanaya. + + The Visvajit, or _the all-conquering_, is a similar sub-division. + + Áyus is the name of a service forming a division of the Abhiplava + sacrifice. + + The _Aptoryám_, is the seventh or last part of the Jyotishtoma, for + the performance of which it is not essentially necessary, but a + voluntary sacrifice instituted for the attainment of a specific + desire. The literal meaning of the word would be in conformity with + the _Praudhamanoramá_, "a sacrifice which procures the attainment of + the desired object." GOLDSTÜCKER'S DICTIONARY. + + "The _Ukthya_ is a slight modification of the Ágnishtoma sacrifice. + The noun to be supplied to it is _kratu_. It is a Soma sacrifice + also, and one of the seven Sansthas or component parts of the + Jyotishtoma. Its name indicates its nature. For _Ukthya_ means 'what + refers to the Uktha,' which is an older name for Shástra, _i.e._ + recitation of one of the Hotri priests at the time of the Soma + libations. Thus this sacrifice is only a kind of supplement to the + Ágnishtoma." HAUG. _Ai. B._ + + 104 "Four classes of priests were required in India at the most solemn + sacrifices. 1. The officiating priests, manual labourers, and + acolytes, who had chiefly to prepare the sacrificial ground, to + dress the altar, slay the victims, and pour out the libations. 2. + The choristers, who chant the sacred hymns. 3. The reciters or + readers, who repeat certain hymns. 4. The overseers or bishops, who + watch and superintend the proceedings of the other priests, and + ought to be familiar with all the Vedas. The formulas and verses to + be muttered by the first class are contained in the + Yajur-veda-sanhitá. The hymns to be sung by the second class are in + the Sama-veda-sanhitá. The Atharva-veda is said to be intended for + the Brahman or overseer, who is to watch the proceedings of the + sacrifice, and to remedy any mistake that may occur. The hymns to be + recited by the third class are contained in the Rigveda," _Chips + from a German Workshop._ + + 105 The Maruts are the winds, deified in the religion of the Veda like + other mighty powers and phenomena of nature. + + 106 A Titan or fiend whose destruction has given Vishnu one of his + well-known titles, Mádhava. + + 107 The garden of Indra. + + 108 One of the most ancient and popular of the numerous names of Vishnu. + The word has been derived in several ways, and may mean _he who + moved on the (primordial) waters_, or _he who pervades or influences + men or their thoughts_. + + 109 The Horse-Sacrifice, just described. + + 110 To walk round an object keeping the right side towards it is a mark + of great respect. The Sanskrit word for the observance is + _pradakshiná_, from pra pro, and _daksha_ right, Greek {~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER XI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~}, Latin + dexter, Gaelic deas-il. A similar ceremony is observed by the Gaels. + + "In the meantime she traced around him, with wavering steps, the + propitiation, which some have thought has been derived from the + Druidical mythology. It consists, as is well known, in the person + who makes the _deasil_ walking three times round the person who is + the object of the ceremony, taking care to move according to the + course of the sun." + + SCOTT. _The Two Drovers._ + + 111 The _Amrit_, the nectar of the Indian Gods. + +_ 112 Gandharvas_ (Southey's Glendoveers) are celestial musicians + inhabiting Indra's heaven and forming the orchestra at all the + banquets of the principal deities. + +_ 113 Yakshas_, demigods attendant especially on Kuvera, and employed by + him in the care of his garden and treasures. + +_ 114 Kimpurushas_, demigods attached also to the service of Kuvera, + celestial musicians, represented like centaurs reversed with human + figures and horses' heads. + +_ 115 Siddhas_, demigods or spirits of undefined attributes, occupying + with the _Vidyádharas_ the middle air or region between the earth + and the sun. + + Schlegel translates: "Divi, Sapientes, Fidicines, Præpetes, + illustres Genii, Præconesque procrearunt natos, masculos, + silvicolas; angues porro, Hippocephali Beati, Aligeri, Serpentesque + frequentes alacriter generavere prolem innumerabilem." + + 116 A mountain in the south of India. + + 117 The preceptor of the Gods and regent of the planet Jupiter. + + 118 The celestial architect, the Indian Hephæstus, Mulciber, or Vulcan. + + 119 The God of Fire. + + 120 Twin children of the Sun, the physicians of Swarga or Indra's + heaven. + + 121 The deity of the waters. + + 122 Parjanya, sometimes confounded with Indra. + + 123 The bird and vehicle of Vishnu. He is generally represented as a + being something between a man and a bird and considered as the + sovereign of the feathered race. He may be compared with the Simurgh + of the Persians, the 'Anká of the Arabs, the Griffin of chivalry, + the Phoenix of Egypt, and the bird that sits upon the ash Yggdrasil + of the Edda. + + 124 This Canto will appear ridiculous to the European reader. But it + should be remembered that the monkeys of an Indian forest, the + "bough-deer" as the poets call them, are very different animals from + the "turpissima bestia" that accompanies the itinerant organ-grinder + or grins in the Zoological Gardens of London. Milton has made his + hero, Satan, assume the forms of a cormorant, a toad, and a serpent, + and I cannot see that this creation of semi-divine Vánars, or + monkeys, is more ridiculous or undignified. + + 125 The consort of Indra, called also Sachí and Indrání. + + 126 The _Michelia champaca_. It bears a scented yellow blossom: + + "The maid of India blest again to hold + In her full lap the Champac's leaves of gold." + + _Lallah Rookh._ + + 127 Vibhándak, the father of Rishyasring + + 128 A hemisloka is wanting in Schlegel's text, which he thus fills up in + his Latin translation. + + 129 Rishyasring, a Bráhman, had married Sántá who was of the Kshatriya + or Warrior caste and an expiatory ceremony was necessary on account + of this violation of the law. + + 130 "The poet no doubt intended to indicate the vernal equinox as the + birthday of Ráma. For the month _Chaitra_ is the first of the two + months assigned to the spring; it corresponds with the latter half + of March and the former half of April in our division of the year. + _Aditi_, the mother of the Gods, is lady of the seventh lunar + mansion which is called _Punarvasu_. The five planets and their + positions in the Zodiac are thus enumerated by both commentators: + the Sun in Aries, Mars in Capricorn, Saturn in Libra, Jupiter in + Cancer, Venus in Pisces.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} I leave to astronomers to examine whether + the parts of the description agree with one another, and, if this be + the case, thence to deduce the date. The Indians place the nativity + of Ráma in the confines of the second age (tretá) and the third + (dwápara): but it seems that this should be taken in an allegorical + sense.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} We may consider that the poet had an eye to the time in + which, immediately before his own age, the aspects of the heavenly + bodies were such as he has described." SCHLEGEL. + + 131 The regent of the planet Jupiter. + + 132 Indra = Jupiter Tonans. + + 133 "_Pushya_ is the name of a month; but here it means the eighth + mansion. The ninth is called _Asleshá_, or the snake. It is evident + from this that Bharat, though his birth is mentioned before that of + the twins, was the youngest of the four brothers and Ráma's junior + by eleven months." SCHLEGEL. + + 134 A fish, the Zodiacal sign _Pisces_. + + 135 One of the constellations, containing stars in the wing of Pegasus. + + 136 Ráma means the Delight (of the World); Bharat, the Supporter; + Lakshman, the Auspicious; Satrughna, the Slayer of Foes. + + 137 Schlegel, in the _Indische Bibliothek_, remarks that the proficiency + of the Indians in this art early attracted the attention of + Alexander's successors, and natives of India were so long + exclusively employed in this service that the name Indian was + applied to any elephant-driver, to whatever country he might belong. + + 138 The story of this famous saint is given at sufficient length in + Cantos LI-LV. + + This saint has given his name to the district and city to the east + of Benares. The original name, preserved in a land-grant on copper + now in the Museum of the Benares College, has been Moslemized into + Ghazeepore (the City of the Soldier-martyr). + + 139 The son of Kusik is Visvámitra. + + 140 At the recollection of their former enmity, to be described + hereafter. + + 141 The Indian nectar or drink of the Gods. + + 142 Great joy, according to the Hindu belief, has this effect, not + causing each particular hair to stand on end, but gently raising all + the down upon the body. + + 143 The Rákshasas, giants, or fiends who are represented as disturbing + the sacrifice, signify here, as often elsewhere, merely the savage + tribes which placed themselves in hostile opposition to Bráhmanical + institutions. + + 144 Consisting of horse, foot, chariots, and elephants. + + 145 "The Gandharvas, or heavenly bards, had originally a warlike + character but were afterwards reduced to the office of celestial + musicians cheering the banquets of the Gods. Dr. Kuhn has shown + their identity with the Centaurs in name, origin and attributes." + GORRESIO. + + 146 These mysterious animated weapons are enumerated in Cantos XXIX and + XXX. Daksha was the son of Brahmá and one of the Prajápatis, + Demiurgi, or secondary authors of creation. + + 147 Youths of the Kshatriya class used to leave unshorn the side locks + of their hair. These were called _Káka-paksha_, or raven's wings. + + 148 The Rákshas or giant Rávan, king of Lanká. + + 149 "The meaning of Asvins (from _asva_ a horse, Persian asp, Greek + {~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA WITH DASIA AND OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~}, Latin _equus_, Welsh ech) is Horsemen. They were twin deities + of whom frequent mention is made in the Vedas and the Indian myths. + The Asvins have much in common with the Dioscuri of Greece, and + their mythical genealogy seems to indicate that their origin was + astronomical. They were, perhaps, at first the morning star and + evening star. They are said to be the children of the sun and the + nymph Asviní, who is one of the lunar asterisms personified. In the + popular mythology they are regarded as the physicians of the Gods." + GORRESIO. + + 150 The word Kumára (a young prince, a Childe) is also a proper name of + Skanda or Kártikeya God of War, the son of Siva and Umá. The babe + was matured in the fire. + + 151 "At the rising of the sun as well as at noon certain observances, + invocations, and prayers were prescribed which might under no + circumstances be omitted. One of these observances was the + recitation of the Sávitrí, a Vedic hymn to the Sun of wonderful + beauty." GORRESIO. + +_ 152 Tripathaga_, _Three-path-go,_ flowing in heaven, on earth, and + under the earth. See Canto XLV. + + 153 Tennyson's "Indian Cama," the God of Love, known also by many other + names. + +_ 154 Umá_, or _Parvatí_, was daughter of Himálaya, Monarch of mountains, + and wife of Siva. See Kálidasa's _Kumára Sambhava_, or _Birth of the + War-God_. + +_ 155 Sthánu_. The Unmoving one, a name of Siva. + + 156 "The practice of austerities, voluntary tortures, and mortifications + was anciently universal in India, and was held by the Indians to be + of immense efficacy. Hence they mortified themselves to expiate + sins, to acquire merits, and to obtain superhuman gifts and powers; + the Gods themselves sometimes exercised themselves in such + austerities, either to raise themselves to greater power and + grandeur, or to counteract the austerities of man which threatened + to prevail over them and to deprive them of heaven.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Such + austerities were called in India _tapas_ (burning ardour, fervent + devotion) and he who practised them _tapasvin_." GORRESIO. + +_ 157 The Bodiless one._ + + 158 "A celebrated lake regarded in India as sacred. It lies in the lofty + region between the northern highlands of the Himálayas and mount + Kailása, the region of the sacred lakes. The poem, following the + popular Indian belief, makes the river Sarayú (now Sarjú) flow from + the Mánasa lake; the sources of the river are a little to the south + about a day's journey from the lake. See Lassen, _Indische + Alterthumshunde_, page 34." GORRESIO. _Manas_ means mind; _mánasa_, + mental, mind-born. + +_ 159 Sarovar_ means best of lakes. This is another of the poet's + fanciful etymologies. + + 160 The confluence of two or more rivers is often a venerated and holy + place. The most famous is Prayág or Allahabad, where the Sarasvatí + by an underground course is believed to join the Jumna and the + Ganges. + + 161 The botanical names of the trees mentioned in the text are Grislea + Tormentosa, Shorea Robusta, Echites Antidysenterica, Bignonia + Suaveolens, OEgle Marmelos, and Diospyrus Glutinosa. I have omitted + the _Kutaja_ (Echites) and the _Tinduka_ (Diospyrus). + + 162 Here we meet with a fresh myth to account for the name of these + regions. _Malaja_ is probably a non-Aryan word signifying a hilly + country: taken as a Sanskrit compound it means _sprung from + defilement_. The word _Karúsha_ appears to have a somewhat similar + meaning. + + 163 "This is one of those indefinable mythic personages who are found in + the ancient traditions of many nations, and in whom cosmogonical or + astronomical notions are generally figured. Thus it is related of + Agastya that the Vindhyan mountains prostrated themselves before + him; and yet the same Agastya is believed to be regent of the star + Canopus." GORRESIO. + + He will appear as the friend and helper of Ráma farther on in the + poem. + + 164 The famous pleasure-garden of Kuvera the God of Wealth. + + 165 "The whole of this Canto together with the following one, regards + the belief, formerly prevalent in India, that by virtue of certain + spells, to be learnt and muttered, secret knowledge and superhuman + powers might be acquired. To this the poet has already alluded in + Canto xxiii. These incorporeal weapons are partly represented + according to the fashion of those ascribed to the Gods and the + different orders of demi-gods, partly are the mere creations of + fancy; and it would not be easy to say what idea the poet had of + them in his own mind, or what powers he meant to assign to each." + SCHLEGEL. + + 166 "In Sanskrit _Sankára_, a word which has various significations but + the primary meaning of which is _the act of seizing_. A magical + power seems to be implied of employing the weapons when and where + required. The remarks I have made on the preceding Canto apply with + still greater force to this. The MSS. greatly vary in the + enumeration of these _Sankáras_, and it is not surprising that + copyists have incorrectly written the names which they did not well + understand. The commentators throw no light upon the subject." + SCHLEGEL. I have taken the liberty of omitting four of these which + Schlegel translates "Scleromphalum, Euomphalum, Centiventrem, and + Chrysomphalum." + + 167 I omit, after this line, eight _slokes_ which, as Schlegel allows, + are quite out of place. + + 168 This is the fifth of the _avatárs_, descents or incarnations of + Vishnu. + + 169 This is a solar allegory. Vishnu is the sun, the three steps being + his rising, culmination, and setting. + + 170 Certain ceremonies preliminary to a sacrifice. + + 171 A river which rises in Budelcund and falls into the Ganges near + Patna. It is called also _Hiranyaráhu_, Golden-armed, and + _Hiranyaráha_, Auriferous. + + 172 The modern Berar. + + 173 According to the Bengal recension the first (Kusámba) is called + Kusásva, and his city Kausásví. This name does not occur elsewhere. + The reading of the northern recension is confirmed by Foê Kouê Ki; + p. 385, where the city _Kiaoshangmi_ is mentioned. It lay 500 _lis_ + to the south-west of _Prayága_, on the south bank of the Jumna. + _Mahodaya_ is another name of Kanyakubja: _Dharmáranya_, the wood to + which the God of Justice is said to have fled through fear of Soma + the Moon-God was in Magadh. Girivraja was in the same neighbourhood. + See Lasson's I, A. Vol. I. p. 604. + + 174 That is, the City of the Bent Virgins, the modern Kanauj or Canouge. + + 175 Literally, Given by _Brahma_ or devout contemplation. + + 176 Now called Kosí (Cosy) corrupted from Kausikí, daughter of Kus]a. + + "This is one of those personifications of rivers so frequent in the + Grecian mythology, but in the similar myths is seen the impress of + the genius of each people, austere and profoundly religious in + India, graceful and devoted to the worship of external beauty in + Greece." GORRESIO. + + 177 One of the names of the Ganges considered as the daughter of Jahnu. + See Canto XLIV. + + 178 The Indian Crane. + + 179 Or, rather, geese. + + 180 A name of the God Siva. + + 181 Garuda. + + 182 Ikshváku, the name of a king of Ayodhyá who is regarded as the + founder of the Solar race, means also a _gourd_. Hence, perhaps, the + myth. + + 183 "The region here spoken of is called in the Laws of Manu + _Madhyadesa_ or the middle region. 'The region situated between the + Himálaya and the Vindhya Mountains {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} is called _Madhyadesa_, or the + middle region; the space comprised between these two mountains from + the eastern to the western sea is called by sages Áryávartta, _the + seat of honourable men_.' (MANU, II, 21, 22.) The Sanskrit Indians + called themselves Áryans, which means _honourable_, _noble_, to + distinguish themselves from the surrounding nations of different + origin." GORRESIO. + + 184 Said to be so called from the Jambu, or Rose Apple, abounding in it, + and signifying according to the Puránas the central division of the + world, the known world. + + 185 Here used as a name of Vishnu. + + 186 Kings are called the husbands of their kingdoms or of the earth; + "She and his kingdom were his only brides." _Raghuvansa._ + + "Doubly divorced! Bad men, you violate + A double marriage, 'twixt my crown and me, + And then between me and my married wife." + + King Richard II. Act V. Sc. I. + + 187 The thirty-three Gods are said in the _Aitareya Bráhmana_, Book I. + ch. II. 10. to be the eight Vasus, the eleven Rudras, the twelve + Ádityas, Prajápati, either Brahmá or Daksha, and Vashatkára or + deified oblation. This must have been the actual number at the + beginning of the Vedic religion gradually increased by successive + mythical and religious creations till the Indian Pantheon was + crowded with abstractions of every kind. Through the reverence with + which the words of the Veda were regarded, the immense host of + multiplied divinities, in later times, still bore the name of the + Thirty-three Gods. + + 188 "One of the elephants which, according to an ancient belief popular + in India, supported the earth with their enormous backs; when one of + these elephants shook his wearied head the earth trembled with its + woods and hills. An idea, or rather a mythical fancy, similar to + this, but reduced to proportions less grand, is found in Virgil when + he speaks of Enceladus buried under Ætna:" + + "adi semiustum fulmine corpus + Urgeri mole hac, ingentemque insuper Ætnam + Impositam, ruptis flammam expirare caminis; + Et fessum quoties mutat latus, intre mere omnem + iam, et coelum subtexere fumo." + + Æneid. Lib. III. GORRESIO. + + 189 "The Devas and Asuras (Gods and Titans) fought in the east, the + south, the west, and the north, and the Devas were defeated by the + Asuras in all these directions. They then fought in the + north-eastern direction; there the Devas did not sustain defeat. + This direction is _aparájitá_, _i.e._ unconquerable. Thence one + should do work in this direction, and have it done there; for such a + one (alone) is able to clear off his debts." HAUG'S _Aitareya + Bráhmanam_, Vol. II, p. 33. + + The debts here spoken of are a man's religious obligations to the + Gods, the Pitaras or Manes, and men. + + 190 Vishnu. + + 191 "It appears to me that this mythical story has reference to the + volcanic phenomena of nature. Kapil may very possibly be that hidden + fiery force which suddenly unprisons itself and bursts forth in + volcanic effects. Kapil is, moreover, one of the names of Agni the + God of Fire." GORRESIO. + + 192 Garud was the son of Kasyap and Vinatá. + + 193 Garud. + + 194 A famous and venerated region near the Malabar coast. + + 195 That is four fires and the sun. + + 196 Heaven. + + 197 Wind-Gods. + + 198 Siva. + + 199 The lake Vindu does not exist. Of the seven rivers here mentioned + two only, the Ganges and the Sindhu or Indus, are known to + geographers. Hládiní means the Gladdener, Pávaní the Purifier, + Naliní the Lotus-Clad, and Suchakshu the Fair-eyed. + + 200 The First or Golden Age. + + 201 Diti and Aditi were wives of Kasyap, and mothers respectively of + Titans and Gods. + + 202 One of the seven seas surrounding as many worlds in concentric + rings. + + 203 Sankar and Rudra are names of Siva. + + 204 "Sárngin, literally _carrying a bow of horn_, is a constantly + recurring name of Vishnu. The Indians also, therefore, knew the art + of making bows out of the hons of antelopes or wild goats, which + Homer ascribes to the Trojans of the heroic age." SCHLEGEL. + + 205 Dhanvantari, the physician of the Gods. + + 206 The poet plays upon the word and fancifully derives it from _apsu_, + the locative case plural of _ap_, water, and _rasa_, taste.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} The + word is probably derived from _ap_, water, and _sri_, to go, and + seems to signify _inhabitants of the water_, nymphs of the stream; + or, as Goldstücker thinks (Dict. s.v.) these divinities were + originally personifications of the vapours which are attracted by + the sun and form into mist or clouds. + + 207 "_Surá_, in the feminine comprehends all sorts of intoxicating + liquors, many kinds of which the Indians from the earliest times + distilled and prepared from rice, sugar-cane, the palm tree, and + various flowers and plants. Nothing is considered more disgraceful + among orthodox Hindus than drunkenness, and the use of wine is + forbidden not only to Bráhmans but the two other orders as well.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} So + it clearly appears derogatory to the dignity of the Gods to have + received a nymph so pernicious, who ought rather to have been made + over to the Titans. However the etymological fancy has prevailed. + The word _Sura_, a God, is derived from the indeclinable _Swar_ + heaven." SCHLEGEL. + + 208 Literally, high-eared, the horse of Indra. Compare the production of + the horse from the sea by Neptune. + + 209 "And Kaustubha the best + Of gems that burns with living light + Upon Lord Vishnu's breast." + + _Churning of the Ocean._ + + 210 "That this story of the birth of Lakshmí is of considerable + antiquity is evident from one of her names _Kshírábdhi-tanayá_, + daughter of the Milky Sea, which is found in _Amarasinha_ the most + ancient of Indian lexicographers. The similarity to the Greek myth + of Venus being born from the foam of the sea is remarkable." + + "In this description of Lakshmí one thing only offends me, that she + is said to have four arms. Each of Vishnu's arms, single, as far as + the elbow, there branches into two; but Lakshmí in all the brass + seals that I possess or remember to have seen has two arms only. Nor + does this deformity of redundant limbs suit the pattern of perfect + beauty." SCHLEGEL. I have omitted the offensive epithet. + + 211 Purandhar, a common title of Indra. + + 212 A few verses are here left untranslated on account of the subject + and language being offensive to modern taste. + + 213 "In this myth of Indra destroying the unborn fruit of Diti with his + thunderbolt, from which afterwards came the Maruts or Gods of Wind + and Storm, geological phenomena are, it seems, represented under + mythical images. In the great Mother of the Gods is, perhaps, + figured the dry earth: Indra the God of thunder rends it open, and + there issue from its rent bosom the Maruts or exhalations of the + earth. But such ancient myths are difficult to interpret with + absolute certainty." GORRESIO. + + 214 Wind. + + 215 Indra, with _mahá_, great, prefixed. + + 216 The Heavenly Twins. + + 217 Not banished from heaven as the inferior Gods and demigods sometimes + were. + + 218 Kumárila says: "In the same manner, if it is said that Indra was the + seducer of Ahalyá this does not imply that the God Indra committed + such a crime, but Indra means the sun, and Ahalyá (from ahan and lí) + the night; and as the night is seduced and ruined by the sun of the + morning, therefore is Indra called the paramour of Ahalyá." MAX + MULLER, _History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature, p. 530_. + + 219 "The preceding sixteen lines have occurred before in Canto XLVIII. + This Homeric custom of repeating a passage of several lines is + strange to our poet. This is the only instance I remember. The + repetition of single lines is common enough." SCHLEGEL. + + 220 Divine personages of minute size produced from the hair of Brahmá, + and probably the origin of + + "That small infantry + Warred on by cranes." + + 221 Sweet, salt, pungent, bitter, acid, and astringent. + + 222 "Of old hoards and minerals in the earth, the king is entitled to + half by reason of his general protection, and because he is the lord + paramount of the soil." MANU, Book VIII. 39. + + 223 Ghí or clarified butter, "holy oil," being one of the essentials of + sacrifice. + + 224 "A Bráhman had five principal duties to discharge every day: study + and teaching the Veda, oblations to the manes or spirits of the + departed, sacrifice to the Gods, hospitable offerings to men, and _a + gift of food to all creatures_. The last consisted of rice or other + grain which the Bráhman was to offer every day outside his house in + the open air. MANU, Book III. 70." GORRESIO. + + 225 These were certain sacred words of invocation such a _sváhá_, + _vashat_, etc., pronounced at the time of sacrifice. + + 226 "It is well known that the Persians were called Pahlavas by the + Indians. The _Sakas_ are nomad tribes inhabiting Central Asia, the + Scythes of the Greeks, whom the Persians also, as Herodotus tells + us, called Sakæ just as the Indians did. Lib. VII 64 {~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH DASIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER GAMMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH VARIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~} {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~} + {~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON WITH VARIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~} {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER THETA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~}. {~GREEK SMALL LETTER KAPPA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER LAMDA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~} {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER KAPPA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~}. The name Yavans seems to be used + rather indefinitely for nations situated beyond Persia to the west.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} + After the time of Alexander the Great the Indians as well as the + Persians called the Greeks also Yavans." SCHLEGEL. + + Lassen thinks that the Pahlavas were the same people as the {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER KAPPA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~} + of Herodotus, and that this non-Indian people dwelt on the + north-west confines of India. + + 227 See page 13, note 6. + + 228 Barbarians, non-Sanskrit-speaking tribes. + + 229 A comprehensive term for foreign or outcast races of different faith + and language from the Hindus. + + 230 The Kirátas and Hárítas are savage aborigines of India who occupy + hills and jungles and are altogether different in race and character + from the Hindus. Dr. Muir remarks in his Sanskrit Texts, Vol. I. p. + 488 (second edition) that it does not appear that it is the object + of this legend to represent this miraculous creation as the origin + of these tribes, and that nothing more may have been intended than + that the cow called into existence large armies, of the same stock + with particular tribes previously existing. + + 231 The Great God, Siva. + + 232 Nandi, the snow-white bull, the attendant and favourite vehicle of + Siva. + + 233 "The names of many of these weapons which are mythical and partly + allegorical have occurred in Canto XXIX. The general signification + of the story is clear enough. It is a contest for supremacy between + the regal or military order and Bráhmanical or priestly authority, + like one of those struggles which our own Europe saw in the middle + ages when without employing warlike weapons the priesthood + frequently gained the victory." SCHLEGEL. + + For a full account of the early contests between the Bráhmans and + the Kshattriyas, see Muir's Original Sanskrit Texts (Second edition) + Vol. I. Ch. IV. + + 234 "Trisanku, king of Ayodhyá, was seventh in descent from Ikshváku, + and Dasaratha holds the thirty-fourth place in the same genealogy. + See Canto LXX. We are thrown back, therefore, to very ancient times, + and it occasions some surprise to find Vasishtha and Visvámitra, + actors in these occurences, still alive in Rama's time." + + 235 "It does not appear how Trisanku, in asking the aid of Vasishtha's + sons after applying in vain to their father, could be charged with + resorting to another _sákhá_ (School) in the ordinary sense of that + word; as it is not conceivable that the sons should have been of + another Sákhá from the father, whose cause they espouse with so much + warmth. The commentator in the Bombay edition explains the word + _Sákhantaram_ as Yájanádiná rakshántaram, 'one who by sacrificing + for thee, etc., will be another protector.' Gorresio's Gauda text, + which may often be used as a commentary on the older one, has the + following paraphrase of the words in question, ch. 60, 3. Múlam + utsrijya kasmát tvam sákhásv ichhasi lambitum. 'Why, forsaking the + root, dost thou desire to hang upon the branches?' " MUIR, Sanskrit + Texts, Vol. I., p. 401. + + 236 A Chandála was a man born of the illegal and impure union of a Súdra + with a woman of one of the three higher castes. + + 237 "The Chandála was regarded as the vilest and most abject of the men + sprung from wedlock forbidden by the law (Mánavadharmasástra, Lib. + X. 12.); a kind of social malediction weighed upon his head and + rejected him from human society." GORRESIO. + + 238 This appellation, occuring nowhere else in the poem except as the + name of a city, appears twice in this Canto as a name of Vasishtha. + + 239 "The seven ancient rishis or saints, as has been said before, were + the seven stars of Ursa Major. The seven other new saints which are + here said to have been created by Visvámitra should be seven new + southern stars, a sort of new Ursa. Von Schlegel thinks that this + mythical fiction of new stars created by Visvámitra may signify that + these southern stars, unknown to the Indians as long as they + remained in the neighbourhood of the Ganges, became known to them at + a later date when they colonized the southern regions of India." + GORRESIO. + + 240 "This cannot refer to the events just related: for Visvámitra was + successful in the sacrifice performed for Trisanku. And yet no other + impediment is mentioned. Still his restless mind would not allow him + to remain longer in the same spot. So the character of Visvámitra is + ingeniously and skilfully shadowed forth: as he had been formerly a + most warlike king, loving battle and glory, bold, active, sometimes + unjust, and more frequently magnanimous, such also he always shows + himself in his character of anchorite and ascetic." SCHLEGEL. + + 241 Near the modern city of Ajmere. The place is sacred still, and the + name is preserved in the Hindí. Lassen, however, says that this + Pushkala or Pushkara, called by the Grecian writers {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER KAPPA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER LAMDA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~}, the + earliest place of pilgrimage mentioned by name, is not to be + confounded with the modern Pushkara in Ajmere. + + 242 "Ambarísha is the twenty-ninth in descent from Ikshváku, and is + therefore separated by an immense space of time from Trisanku in + whose story Visvámitra had played so important a part. Yet Richíka, + who is represented as having young sons while Ambarísha was yet + reigning being himself the son of Bhrigu and to be numbered with the + most ancient sages, is said to have married the younger sister of + Visvámitra. But I need not again remark that there is a perpetual + anachronism in Indian mythology." SCHLEGEL.. + + "In the mythical story related in this and the following Canto we + may discover, I think, some indication of the epoch at which the + immolation of lower animals was substituted for human sacrifice.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} So + when Iphigenia was about to be sacrificed at Aulis, one legend tells + us that a hind was substituted for the virgin." GORRESIO. + + So the ram caught in the thicket took the place of Isaac, or, as the + Musalmáns say, of Ishmael. + + 243 The Indian Cupid. + + 244 "The same as she whose praises Visvámitra has already sung in Canto + XXXV, and whom the poet brings yet alive upon the scene in Canto + LXI. Her proper name was _Satyavatí_ (Truthful); the patronymic, + Kausikí was preserved by the river into which she is said to have + been changed, and is still recognized in the corrupted forms Kusa + and Kusí. The river flows from the heights of the Himálaya towards + the Ganges, bounding on the east the country of Videha (Behar). The + name is no doubt half hidden in the _Cosoagus_ of Pliny and the + _Kossounos_ of Arrian. But each author has fallen into the same + error in his enumeration of these rivers (Condochatem, Erannoboam, + Cosoagum, Sonum). The Erannoboas, (Hiranyaváha) and the Sone are not + different streams, but well-known names of the same river. Moreover + the order is disturbed, in which on the right and left they fall + into the Ganges. To be consistent with geography it should be + written: Erannoboam sive Sonum, Condochatem (Gandakí), Cosoagum." + SCHLEGEL. + + 245 "Daksha was one of the ancient Progenitors or Prajápatis created by + Brahmá. The sacrifice which is here spoken of and in which Sankar or + Siva (called also here Rudra and Bhava) smote the Gods because he + had not been invited to share the sacred oblations with them, seems + to refer to the origin of the worship of Siva, to its increase and + to the struggle it maintained with other older forms of worship." + GORRESIO. + + 246 Sítá means a furrow. + + "Great Erectheus swayed, + That owed his nurture to the blue-eyed maid, + But from the teeming furrow took his birth, + The mighty offspring of the foodful earth." + + Iliad, Book II. + + 247 "The whole story of Sítá, as will be seen in the course of the poem + has a great analogy with the ancient myth of Proserpine." GORRESIO. + + 248 A different lady from the Goddess of the Jumna who bears the same + name. + + 249 This is another fanciful derivation, _Sa_--with, and _gara_--poison. + +_ 250 Purushádak_ means a cannibal. First called _Kalmáshapáda_ on + account of his spotted feet he is said to have been turned into a + cannibal for killing the son of Vasishtha. + + 251 "In the setting forth of these royal genealogies the Bengal + recension varies but slightly from the Northern. The first six names + of the genealogy of the Kings of Ayodhyá are partly theogonical and + partly cosmogonical; the other names are no doubt in accordance with + tradition and deserve the same amount of credence as the ancient + traditional genealogies of other nations." GORRESIO. + + 252 The tenth of the lunar asterisms, composed of five stars. + + 253 There are two lunar asterisms of this name, one following the other + immediately, forming the eleventh and twelfth of the lunar mansions. + + 254 This is another Ráma, son of Jamadagni, called Parasuráma, or Ráma + with the axe, from the weapon which he carried. He was while he + lived the terror of the Warrior caste, and his name recalls long and + fierce struggles between the sacerdotal and military order in which + the latter suffered severely at the hands of their implacable enemy. + + 255 "The author of the _Raghuvansa_ places the mountain Mahendra in the + territory of the king of the Kalingans, whose palace commanded a + view of the ocean. It is well known that the country along the coast + to the south of the mouths of the Ganges was the seat of this + people. Hence it may be suspected that this Mahendra is what Pliny + calls 'promontorium Calingon.' The modern name, _Cape Palmyras_, + from the palmyras Borassus flabelliformis, which abound there agrees + remarkably with the description of the poet who speaks of the groves + of these trees. _Raghuvansa_, VI. 51." SCHLEGEL. + + 256 Siva. + + 257 Siva. God of the Azure Neck. + + 258 Satrughna means slayer of foes, and the word is repeated as an + intensive epithet. + + 259 Alluding to the images of Vishnu, which have four arms, the four + princes being portions of the substance of that God. + + 260 Chief of the insignia of imperial dignity. + + 261 Whisks, usually made of the long tails of the Yak. + + 262 Chitraratha, King of the Gandharvas. + + 263 The Chandrakánta or Moonstone, a sort of crystal supposed to be + composed of congealed moonbeams. + + 264 A customary mark of respect to a superior. + + 265 Ráhu, the ascending node, is in mythology a demon with the tail of a + dragon whose head was severed from his body by Vishnu, but being + immortal, the head and tail retained their separate existence and + being transferred to the stellar sphere became the authors of + eclipses; the first especially by endeavouring to swallow the sun + and moon. + + 266 In eclipse. + + 267 The seventh of the lunar asterisms. + + 268 Kausalyá and Sumitrá. + + 269 A king of the Lunar race, and father of Yayáti. + + 270 Literally _the chamber of wrath,_ a "_growlery_," a small, dark, + unfurnished room to which it seems, the wives and ladies of the king + betook themselves when offended and sulky. + + 271 In these four lines I do not translate faithfully, and I do not + venture to follow Kaikeyí farther in her eulogy of the hump-back's + charms. + + 272 These verses are evidently an interpolation. They contain nothing + that has not been already related: the words only are altered. As + the whole poem could not be recited at once, the rhapsodists at the + beginning of a fresh recitation would naturally remind their hearers + of the events immediately preceding. + + 273 The _sloka_ or distich which I have been forced to expand into these + nine lines is evidently spurious, but is found in all the commented + MSS. which Schlegel consulted. + + 274 Manmatha, Mind-disturber, a name of Káma or Love. + + 275 This story is told in the Mahábhárat. A free version of it may be + found in _Scenes from the Rámáyan, etc._ + + 276 Only the highest merit obtains a home in heaven for ever. Minor + degrees of merit procure only leases of heavenly mansions terminable + after periods proportioned to the fund which buys them. King Yayáti + went to heaven and when his term expired was unceremoniously + ejected, and thrown down to earth. + + 277 See _Additional Notes_, THE SUPPLIANT DOVE. + + 278 Indra, called also Purandara, Town-destroyer. + + 279 Indra's charioteer. + + 280 The elephant of Indra. + + 281 A star in the spike of Virgo: hence the name of the mouth Chaitra or + Chait. + + 282 The Rain-God. + + 283 In a former life. + + 284 One of the lunar asterisms, represented as the favourite wife of the + Moon. See p. 4, note. + + 285 The Sea. + + 286 The Moon. + + 287 The comparison may to a European reader seem a homely one. But + Spenser likens an infuriate woman to a cow "That is berobbed of her + youngling dere." Shakspeare also makes King Henry VI compare himself + to the calf's mother that "Runs lowing up and down, Looking the way + her harmless young one went." "Cows," says De Quincey, "are amongst + the gentlest of breathing creatures; none show more passionate + tenderness to their young, when deprived of them, and, in short, I + am not ashamed to profess a deep love for these gentle creatures." + + 288 The commentators say that, in a former creation, Ocean grieved his + mother and suffered in consequence the pains of hell. + + 289 As described in Book I Canto XL. + + 290 Parasúráma. + + 291 The Sanskrit word _hasta_ signifies both _hand_, and the trunk of + "The beast that bears between his eyes a serpent for a head." + + 292 See P. 41. + + 293 The first progeny of Brahmá or Brahmá himself. + + 294 These are three names of the Sun. + + 295 See P. 1. + + 296 The saints who form the constellation of Ursa Major. + + 297 The regent of the planet Venus. + + 298 Kuvera. + +_ 299 Bali_, or the presentation of food to all created beings, is one of + the five great sacraments of the Hindu religion: it consists in + throwing a small parcel of the offering, _Ghee_, or rice, or the + like, into the open air at the back of the house. + + 300 In mythology, a demon slain by Indra. + + 301 Called also Garud, the King of the birds, offspring of Vinatá. See + p. 53. + + 302 See P. 56. + + 303 See P. 43. + + 304 The story of Sávitrí, told in the Mahábhárat, has been admirably + translated by Rückert, and elegantly epitomized by Mrs. Manning in + _India, Ancient and Mediæval_. There is a free rendering of the + story in _Idylls from the Sanskrit_. + + 305 Fire for sacrificial purposes is produced by the attrition of two + pieces of wood. + + 306 Kaikeyí. + + 307 The chapel where the sacred fire used in worship is kept. + + 308 The students and teachers of the Taittiríya portion of the Yajur + Veda. + + 309 Two of the divine personages called _Prajápatis_ and _Brahmádikas_ + who were first created by Brahmá. + + 310 It was the custom of the kings of the solar dynasty to resign in + their extreme old age the kingdom to the heir, and spend the + remainder of their days in holy meditation in the forest: + + "For such through ages in their life's decline + Is the good custom of Ikshváku's line." + + _Raghuransa._ + + 311 See Book I, Canto XXXIX. An Indian prince in more modern times + appears to have diverted himself in a similar way. + + It is still reported in Belgaum that Appay Deasy was wont to amuse + himself "by making several young and beautiful women stand side by + side on a narrow balcony, without a parapet, overhanging the deep + reservoir at the new palace in Nipani. He used then to pass along + the line of trembling creatures, and suddenly thrusting one of them + headlong into the water below, he used to watch her drowning, and + derive pleasure from her dying agonies."--History of the Belgaum + District. By H. J. Stokes, M. S. C. + + 312 Chitraratha, King of the celestial choristers. + + 313 It is said that the bamboo dies after flowering. + + 314 "Thirty centuries have passed since he began this memorable journey. + Every step of it is known and is annually traversed by thousands: + hero worship is not extinct. What can Faith do! How strong are the + ties of religion when entwined with the legends of a country! How + many a cart creeps creaking and weary along the road from Ayodhyá to + Chitrakút. It is this that gives the Rámáyan a strange interest, the + story still lives." _Calcutta Review: Vol. XXIII._ + + 315 See p. 72. + + 316 Four stars of the sixteenth lunar asterism. + + 317 In the marriage service. + + 318 The husks and chaff of the rice offered to the Gods. + + 319 An important sacrifice at which seventeen victims were immolated. + + 320 The great pilgrimage to the Himálayas, in order to die there. + + 321 Known to Europeans as the Goomtee. + + 322 A tree, commonly called _Ingua_. + + 323 Sacrificial posts to which the victims were tied. + + 324 Daughter of Jahnu, a name of the Ganges. See p. 55. + + 325 The _Mainá_ or Gracula religiosa, a favourite cage-bird, easily + taught to talk. + + 326 The Jumna. + + 327 The Hindu name of Allahabad. + + 328 The Langúr is a large monkey. + + 329 A mountain said to lie to the east of Meru. + + 330 Another name of the Jumna, daughter of the Sun. + + 331 "We have often looked on that green hill: it is the holiest spot of + that sect of the Hindu faith who devote themselves to this + incarnation of Vishnu. The whole neighbourhood is Ráma's country. + Every headland has some legend, every cavern is connected with his + name; some of the wild fruits are still called _Sítáphal_, being the + reputed food of the exile. Thousands and thousands annually visit + the spot, and round the hill is a raised foot-path, on which the + devotee, with naked feet, treads full of pious awe." _Calcutta + Review_, Vol. XXIII. + + 332 Deities of a particular class in which five or ten are enumerated. + They are worshipped particularly at the funeral obsequies in honour + of deceased progenitors. + + 333 "So in Homer the horses of Achilles lamented with many bitter tears + the death of Patroclus slain by Hector:" + + "{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER IOTA WITH DASIA AND OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}' {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA WITH PSILI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER KAPPA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}, {~GREEK SMALL LETTER MU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER CHI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ETA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH PSILI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER THETA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON WITH PSILI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~}, + {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER KAPPA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER LAMDA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH PERISPOMENI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}, {~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON WITH PSILI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ETA WITH VARIA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMEGA WITH PERISPOMENI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER THETA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER THETA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ETA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER ETA WITH DASIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER CHI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~} + {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER EPSILON WITH PSILI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER KAPPA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON WITH DASIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER PHI~}' {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER EPSILON WITH DASIA AND OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER KAPPA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH PSILI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER PHI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}" + + ILIAD. XVII. 426. + + "Ancient poesy frequently associated nature with the joys and + sorrows of man." GORRESIO. + + 334 The lines containing this heap of forced metaphors are marked as + spurious by Schlegel. + + 335 The southern region is the abode of Yama the Indian Pluto, and of + departed spirits. + + 336 The five elements of which the body consists, and to which it + returns. + + 337 So dying York cries over the body of Suffolk: + + "Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk! + My soul shall thine keep company to heaven: + Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast." + + _King Henry V, Act IV, 6._ + + 338 Kausalyá, daughter of the king of another Kosal. + + 339 Rájagriha, or Girivraja was the capital of Asvapati, Bharat's + maternal grandfather. + + 340 The Kekayas or Kaikayas in the Punjab appear amongst the chief + nations in the war of the Mahábhárata; their king being a kinsman of + Krishna. + + 341 Hástinapura was the capital of the kingdom of Kuru, near the modern + Delhi. + + 342 The Panchálas occupied the upper part of the Doab. + + 343 "Kurujángala and its inhabitants are frequently mentioned in the + _Mahábhárata_, as in the _Ádi-parv._ 3789, 4337, _et al._" WILSON'S + _Vishnu Purána,_ Vol. II. p. 176. DR. HALL'S Note. + + 344 "The {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER OMICRON WITH DASIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER XI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER MU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~} of Arrian. See _As. Res._ Vol. XV. p. 420, 421, also + _Indische Alterthumskunde_, Vol. I. p. 602, first footnote." + WILSON'S _Vishnu Purána_, Vol. I. p. 421. DR. HALL'S Edition. The + Ikshumatí was a river in Kurukshetra. + + 345 "The Báhíkas are described in the Mahábhárata, Karna Parvan, with + some detail, and comprehend the different nations of the Punjab from + the Sutlej to the Indus." WILSON'S _Vishnu Purána_, Vol. I. p. 167. + + 346 The Beas, Hyphasis, or Bibasis. + + 347 It would be lost labour to attempt to verify all the towns and + streams mentioned in Cantos LXVIII and LXXII. Professor Wilson + observes (_Vishnu Purána_, p. 139. Dr. Hall's Edition) "States, and + tribes, and cities have disappeared, even from recollection; and + some of the natural features of the country, especially the rivers, + have undergone a total alteration.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Notwithstanding these + impediments, however, we should be able to identify at least + mountains and rivers, to a much greater extent than is now + practicable, if our maps were not so miserably defective in their + nomenclature. None of our surveyors or geographers have been + oriental scholars. It may be doubted if any of them have been + conversant with the spoken language of the country. They have, + consequently, put down names at random, according to their own + inaccurate appreciation of sounds carelessly, vulgarly, and + corruptly uttered; and their maps of India are crowded with + appellations which bear no similitude whatever either to past or + present denominations. We need not wonder that we cannot discover + Sanskrit names in English maps, when, in the immediate vicinity of + Calcutta, Barnagore represents Baráhanagar, Dakshineswar is + metamorphosed into Duckinsore, Ulubaría into Willoughbury.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} There is + scarcely a name in our Indian maps that does not afford proof of + extreme indifference to accuracy in nomenclature, and of an + incorrectness in estimating sounds, which is, in some degree, + perhaps, a national defect." + + For further information regarding the road from Ayodhyá to + Rájagriha, see _Additional Notes_. + + 348 "The Satadrú, 'the hundred-channeled'--the Zaradrus of Ptolemy, + Hesydrus of Pliny--is the Sutlej." WILSON'S _Vishnu Purána_, Vol. II. + p. 130. + + 349 The Sarasvatí or Sursooty is a tributary of the Caggar or Guggur in + Sirhind. + +_ 350 Súryamcha pratimehatu_, adversus solem mingat. An offence expressly + forbidden by the Laws of Manu. + + 351 Bharat does not intend these curses for any particular person: he + merely wishes to prove his own innocence by invoking them on his own + head if he had any share in banishing Ráma. + + 352 The Sáma-veda, the hymns of which are chanted aloud. + + 353 Walking from right to left. + + 354 Birth and death, pleasure and pain, loss and gain. + + 355 Erected upon a tree or high staff in honour of Indra. + + 356 I follow in this stanza the Bombay edition in preference to + Schlegel's which gives the tears of joy to the courtiers. + + 357 The commentator says "Satrughna accompanied by the other sons of the + king." + + 358 Not Bharat's uncle, but some councillor. + +_ 359 Satakratu_, Lord of a hundred sacrifices, the performance of a + hundred _Asvamedhas_ or sacrifices of a horse entitling the + sacrificer to this exalted dignity. + + 360 The modern Malabar. + + 361 Now Sungroor, in the Allahabad district. + + 362 Ráma, Lakshman, and Sumantra. + + 363 The _svastika_, a little cross with a transverse line at each + extremity. + + 364 When an army marched it was customary to burn the huts in which it + had spent the night. + + 365 Yáma, Varuna, and Kuvera. + + 366 "A happy land in the remote north where the inhabitants enjoy a + natural pefection attended with complete happiness obtained without + exertion. There is there no vicissitude, nor decrepitude, nor death, + nor fear: no distinction of virtue and vice, none of the + inequalities denoted by the words best, worst, and intermediate, nor + any change resulting from the succession of the four Yugas." See + MUIR'S _Sanskrit Texts_, Vol. I. p. 492. + + 367 The Moon. + + 368 The poet does not tell us what these lakes contained. + + 369 These ten lines are a substitution for, and not a translation of the + text which Carey and Marshman thus render: "This mountain adorned + with mango, jumboo, usuna, lodhra, piala, punusa, dhava, unkotha, + bhuvya, tinisha, vilwa, tindooka, bamboo, kashmaree, urista, uruna, + madhooka, tilaka, vuduree, amluka, nipa, vetra, dhunwuna, veejaka, + and other trees affording flowers, and fruits, and the most + delightful shade, how charming does it appear!" + +_ 370 Vidyadharis_, Spirits of Air, sylphs. + + 371 A lake attached either to Amarávatí the residence of Indra, or Alaká + that of Kuvera. + + 372 The Ganges of heaven. + + 373 Naliní, as here, may be the name of any lake covered with lotuses. + + 374 This canto is allowed, by Indian commentators, to be an + interpolation. It cannot be the work of Válmíki. + + 375 A fine bird with a strong, sweet note, and great imitative powers. + + 376 Bauhinea variegata, a species of ebony. + + 377 The rainbow is called the bow of Indra. + + 378 Bhogavatí, the abode of the Nágas or Serpent race. + + 379 "The order of the procession on these occasions is that the children + precede according to age, then the women and after that the men + according to age, the youngest first and the eldest last: when they + descend into the water this is reversed and resumed when they come + out of it." CAREY AND MARSHMAN. + + 380 Vrihaspati, the preceptor of the Gods. + + 381 Garud, the king of birds. + + 382 To be won by virtue. + + 383 The four religious orders, referable to different times of life are, + that of the student, that of the householder, that of the anchorite, + and that of the mendicant. + + 384 To Gods, men, and Manes. + + 385 Gayá is a very holy city in Behar. Every good Hindu ought once in + his life to make funeral offerings in Gayá in honour of his + ancestors. + +_ 386 Put_ is the name of that region of hell to which men are doomed who + leave no son to perform the funeral rites which are necessary to + assure the happiness of the departed. _Putra_, the common word for a + son is said by the highest authority to be derived from _Put_ and + _tra_ deliverer. + + 387 It was the custom of Indian women when mourning for their absent + husbands to bind their hair in a long single braid. + + Carey and Marshman translate, "the one-tailed city." + + 388 The verses in a different metre with which some cantos end are all + to be regarded with suspicion. Schlegel regrets that he did not + exclude them all from his edition. These lines are manifestly + spurious. See _Additional Notes_. + + 389 This genealogy is a repetition with slight variation of that given + in Book I, Canto LXX. + + 390 In Gorresio's recension identified with Vishnu. See Muir's _Sanskrit + Texts, Vol. IV. pp 29, 30_. + + 391 From _sa_ with, and _gara_ poison. + + 392 See Book I. Canto XL. + + 393 A practice which has frequently been described, under the name of + _dherna_, by European travellers in India. + + 394 Compare Milton's "_beseeching or beseiging_." + + 395 Ten-headed, ten-necked, ten faced, are common epithets of Rávan the + giant king of Lanká. + + 396 The spouse of Rohiní is the Moon: Ráhu is the demon who causes + eclipses. + + 397 "Once," says the Commentator Tírtha, "in the battle between the Gods + and demons the Gods were vanquished, and the sun was overthrown by + Ráhu. At the request of the Gods Atri undertook the management of + the sun for a week." + + 398 Now Nundgaon, in Oudh. + + 399 A part of the great Dandak forest. + + 400 When the saint Mándavya had doomed some saint's wife, who was + Anasúyá's friend, to become a widow on the morrow. + + 401 Heavenly nymphs. + + 402 The _ball_ or present of food to all created beings. + + 403 The clarified butter &c. cast into the sacred fire. + + 404 The Moon-God: "he is," says the commentator, "the special deity of + Bráhmans." + + 405 "Because he was an incarnation of the deity," says the commentator, + "otherwise such honour paid by men of the sacerdotal caste to one of + the military would be improper." + + 406 The king of birds. + +_ 407 Kálántakayamopamam_, resembling Yáma the destroyer. + + 408 Somewhat inconsistently with this part of the story Tumburu is + mentioned in Book II, Canto XII as one of the Gandharvas or heavenly + minstrels summoned to perform at Bharadvája's feast. + + 409 Rambhá appears in Book I Canto LXIV as the temptress of Visvámitra. + + 410 The conclusion of this Canto is all a vain repetition: it is + manifestly spurious and a very feeble imitation of Válmíki's style. + See _Additional Notes_. + + 411 "Even when he had alighted," says the commentator: The feet of Gods + do not touch the ground. + + 412 A name of Indra. + + 413 Sachí is the consort of Indra. + + 414 The spheres or mansions gained by those who have duly performed the + sacrifices required of them. Different situations are assigned to + these spheres, some placing them near the sun, others near the moon. + + 415 Hermits who live upon roots which they dig out of the earth: + literally _diggers_, derived from the prefix _vi_ and _khan_ to dig. + + 416 Generally, divine personages of the height of a man's thumb, + produced from Brahmá's hair: here, according to the commentator + followed by Gorresio, hermits who when they have obtained fresh food + throw away what they had laid up before. + + 417 Sprung from the washings of Vishnuu's feet. + + 418 Four fires burning round them, and the sun above. + + 419 The tax allowed to the king by the Laws of Manu. + + 420 Near the celebrated Rámagiri or Ráma's Hill, now Rám-tek, near + Nagpore--the scene of the Yaksha's exile in the _Messenger Cloud_. + + 421 A hundred _Asvamedhas_ or sacrifices of a horse raise the sacrificer + to the dignity of Indra. + + 422 Indra. + + 423 Gorresio observes that Dasaratha was dead and that Sítá had been + informed of his death. In his translation he substitutes for the + words of the text "thy relations and mine." This is quite + superfluous. Dasaratha though in heaven still took a loving interest + in the fortunes of his son. + + 424 One of the hermits who had followed Ráma. + + 425 The lake of the five nymphs. + + 426 The holy fig-tree. + + 427 The bread-fruit tree, Artocarpus integrifolia. + + 428 A fine timber tree, Shorea robusta. + + 429 The God of fire. + + 430 Kuvera, the God of riches. + + 431 The Sun. + + 432 Brahmá, the creator. + + 433 Siva. + + 434 The Wind-God. + + 435 The God of the sea. + + 436 A class of demi-gods, eight in number. + + 437 The holiest text of the Vedas, deified. + + 438 Vásuki. + + 439 Garud. + + 440 The War-God. + + 441 One of the Pleiades generally regarded as the model of wifely + excellence. + + 442 The Madhúka, or, as it is now called, Mahuwá, is the Bassia + latifolia, a tree from whose blossoms a spirit is extracted. + + 443 "I should have doubted whether Manu could have been the right + reading here, but that it occurs again in verse 29, where it is in + like manner followed in verse 31 by Analá, so that it would + certainly seem that the name Manu is intended to stand for a female, + the daughter of Daksha. The Gauda recension, followed by Signor + Gorresio (III 20, 12), adopts an entirely different reading at the + end of the line, viz. _Balám Atibalám api_, 'Balá and Atibilá,' + instead of Manu and Analá. I see that Professor Roth s.v. adduces + the authority of the Amara Kosha and of the Commentator on Pánini + for stating that the word sometimes means 'the wife of Manu.' In the + following text of the Mahábhárata I. 2553. also, Manu appears to be + the name of a female: '_Anaradyam_, _Manum_, _Vañsám_, _Asurám_, + _Márganapriyám_, _Anúpám_, _Subhagám_, _Bhásím iti_, _Prádhá + vyajayata_. Prádhá (daughter of Daksha) bore Anavadyá, Manu, Vansá, + Márganapriyá, Anúpá, Subhagá. and Bhásí.' " _Muir's Sanskrit Text_, + Vol. I. p. 116. + + 444 The elephant of Indra. + +_ 445 Golángúlas_, described as a kind of monkey, of a black colour, and + having a tail like a cow. + + 446 Eight elephants attached to the four quarters and intermediate + points of the compass, to support and guard the earth. + + 447 Some scholars identify the centaurs with the Gandharvas. + + 448 The hooded serpents, says the commentator Tírtha, were the offspring + of Surasá: all others of Kadrú. + + 449 The text reads Kasyapa, "a descendant of Kasyapa," who according to + Rám. II. l0, 6, ought to be Vivasvat. But as it is stated in the + preceding part of this passage III. 14, 11 f. that Manu was one of + Kasyapa's eight wives, we must here read Kasyap. The Ganda recension + reads (III, 20, 30) _Manur manushyáms cha tatha janayámása Rághana_, + instead of the corresponding line in the Bombay edition. _Muir's + Sanskrit Text, Vol I, p. 117._ + + 450 The original verses merely name the trees. I have been obliged to + amplify slightly and to omit some quas versu dicere non est; _e.g._ + the _tinisa_ (Dalbergia ougeiniensis), _punnága_ (Rottleria + tinctoria), _tilaka_ (not named), _syandana_ (Dalbergia ougeiniensis + again), _vandana_ (unknown), _nípa_ (Nauclea Kadamba), _lakucha_ + (Artoearpus lacucha), _dhava_ (Grislea tomentosa), Asvakarna (another + name for the Sál), _Samí_ (Acacia Suma), _khadira_ (Mimosa catechu), + _kinsuka_ (Butea frondosa), _pátala_ (Bignonia suaveolens). + + 451 Acacia Suma. + + 452 The south is supposed to be the residence of the departed. + + 453 The sun. + + 454 The night is divided into three watches of four hours each. + + 455 The chief chamberlain and attendant of Siva or Rudra. + + 456 Umá or Párvati, the consort of Siva. + + 457 A star, one of the favourites of the Moon. + + 458 The God of love. + + 459 A demon slain by Indra. + + 460 Chitraratha, King of the Gandharvas. + + 461 Titanic. + + 462 The Sáriká is the Maina, a bird like a starling. + + 463 Mahákapála, Sthúláksha, Pramátha, Trisiras. + + 464 Vishnu, who bears a _chakra_ or discus. + + 465 Siva. + + 466 See _Additional Notes_--DAKSHA'S SACRIFICE. + + 467 Himálaya. + + 468 One of the mysterious weapons given to Ráma. + + 469 A periphrasis for the body. + + 470 Trisirás. + + 471 The Three-headed. + + 472 The demon who causes eclipses. + + 473 "This Asura was a friend of Indra, and taking advantage of his + friend's confidence, he drank up Indra's strength along with a + draught of wine and Soma. Indra then told the Asvins and Sarasvatí + that Namuchi had drunk up his strength. The Asvins in consequence + gave Indra a thunderbolt in the form of a foam, with which he smote + off the head of Namuchi." GARRETT'S _Classical Dictionary of India_. + See also Book I. p. 39. + + 474 Indra. + + 475 Popularly supposed to cause death. + + 476 Garud, the King of Birds, carried off the Amrit or drink of Paradise + from Indra's custody. + + 477 A demon, son of Kasyap and Diti, slain by Rudra or Siva when he + attempted to carry off the tree of Paradise. + + 478 Namuchi and Vritra were two demons slain by Indra. Vritra + personifies drought, the enemy of Indra, who imprisons the rain in + the cloud. + + 479 Another demon slain by Indra. + + 480 The capital of the giant king Rávan. + + 481 Kuvera, the God of gold. + + 482 In the great deluge. + + 483 The giant Márícha, son of Tádaká. Tádaká was slain by Ráma. See p. + 39. + + 484 Indra's elephant. + + 485 Bhogavatí, in Pátála in the regions under the earth, is the capital + of the serpent race whose king is Vásuki. + + 486 the grove of Indra. + + 487 Pulastya is considered as the ancestor of the Rakshases or giants, + as he is the father of Visravas, the father of Rávan and his + brethren. + + 488 Beings with the body of a man and the head of a horse. + + 489 Ájas, Maríchipas, Vaikhánasas, Máshas, and Bálakhilyas are classes + of supernatural beings who lead the lives of hermits. + + 490 "The younger brother of the giant Rávan; when he and his brother had + practiced austerities for a long series of years, Brahmá appeared to + offer them boons: Vibhishana asked that he might never meditate any + unrighteousness.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} On the death of Rávan Vibhishana was installed as + Rája of Lanká." GARRETT'S _Classical Dictionary of India_. + + 491 Serpent-gods. + + 492 See p. 33. + + 493 The Sanskrit words for car and jewels begin with _ra_. + + 494 A race of beings of human shape but with the heads of horses, like + centaurs reversed. + + 495 The favourite wife of the Moon. + + 496 The planet Saturn. + + 497 Another favourite of the Moon; one of the lunar mansions. + + 498 The Rudras, agents in creation, are eight in number; they sprang + from the forehead of Brahmá. + + 499 Maruts, the attendants of Indra. + + 500 Radiant demi-gods. + + 501 The mountain which was used by the Gods as a churning stick at the + Churning of the Ocean. + + 502 The story will be found in GARRETT'S _Classical Dictionary_. See + ADDITIONAL NOTES. + + 503 Mercury: to be carefully distinguished from Buddha. + + 504 The spirits of the good dwell in heaven until their store of + accumulated merit is exhausted. Then they redescend to earth in the + form of falling stars. + + 505 See The Descent of Gangá, Book I Canto XLIV. + + 506 See Book I Canto XXV. + +_ 507 Asoka_ is compounded of _a_ not and _soka_ grief. + + 508 See Book I Canto XXXI. + + 509 An Asur or demon, king of Tripura, the modern Tipperah. + + 510 Siva. + + 511 See Book I, Canto LIX. + + 512 The preceptor of the Gods. + + 513 From the root _vid_, to find. + + 514 Rávan. + + 515 Or Curlews' Wood. + + 516 Iron-faced. + + 517 Kabandha means a trunk. + + 518 A class of mythological giants. In the Epic period they were + probably personifications of the aborigines of India. + + 519 Peace, war, marching, halting, sowing dissensions, and seeking + protection. + + 520 See Book I, Canto XVI. + + 521 Or as the commentator Tírtha says, Silápidháná, rock-covered, may be + the name of the cavern. + + 522 Pampá is said by the commentator to be the name both of a lake and a + brook which flows into it. The brook is said to rise in the hill + Rishyamúka. + + 523 Who was acting as Regent for Ráma and leading an ascetic life while + he mourned for his absent brother. + + 524 The Indian Cuckoo. + + 525 The Cassia Fistula or Amaltás is a splendid tree like a giant + laburnum covered with a profusion of chains and tassels of gold. Dr. + Roxburgh well describes it as "uncommonly beautiful when in flower, + few trees surpassing it in the elegance of its numerous long + pendulous racemes of large bright-yellow flowers intermixed with the + young lively green foliage." It is remarkable also for its curious + cylindrical black seed-pods about two feet long, which are called + monkeys' walking-sticks. + + 526 "The Jonesia Asoca is a tree of considerable size, native of + southern India. It blossoms in February and March with large erect + compact clusters of flowers, varying in colour from pale-orange to + scarlet, almost to be mistaken, on a hasty glance, for immense + trusses of bloom of an Ixora. Mr. Fortune considered this tree, when + in full bloom, superior in beauty even to the Amherstia. + + The first time I saw the Asoc in flower was on the hill where the + famous rock-cut temple of Kárlí is situated, and a large concourse + of natives had assembled for the celebration of some Hindoo + festival. Before proceeding to the temple the Mahratta women + gathered from two trees, which were flowering somewhat below, each a + fine truss of blossom, and inserted it in the hair at the back of + her head.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} As they moved about in groups it is impossible to imagine + a more delightful effect than the rich scarlet bunches of flowers + presented on their fine glossy jet-black hair." FIRMINGER, + _Gardening for India_. + + 527 No other word can express the movements of peafowl under the + influence of pleasing excitement, especially when after the long + drought they hear the welcome roar of the thunder and feel that the + rain is near. + + 528 The Dewy Season is one of the six ancient seasons of the Indian + year, lasting from the middle of January to the middle of March. + + 529 Ráma appears to mean that on a former occasion a crow flying high + overhead was an omen that indicated his approaching separation from + Sítá; and that now the same bird's perching on a tree near him may + be regarded as a happy augury that she will soon be restored to her + husband. + + 530 A tree with beautiful and fragrant blossoms. + + 531 A race of semi-divine musicians attached to the service of Kuvera, + represented as centaurs reversed with human figures and horses' + heads. + + 532 Butea Frondosa. A tree that bears a profusion of brilliant red + flowers which appear before the leaves. + + 533 I omit five _slokas_ which contain nothing but a list of trees for + which, with one or two exceptions, there are no equivalent names in + English. The following is Gorresio's translation of the + corresponding passage in the Bengal recension:-- + + "Oh come risplendono in questa stagione di primavera i vitici, le + galedupe, le bassie, le dalbergie, i diospyri {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} le tile, le + michelie, le rottlerie, le pentaptere ed i pterospermi, i bombaci, + le grislee, gli abri, gli amaranti e le dalbergie; i sirii, le + galedupe, le barringtonie ed i palmizi, i xanthocymi, il pepebetel, + le verbosine e le ticaie, le nauclee le erythrine, gli asochi, e le + tapie fanno d'ogni intorno pompa de' lor fiori." + + 534 A sacred stream often mentioned in the course of the poem. See Book + II, Canto XCV. + + 535 A daughter of Daksha who became one of the wives of Kasyapa and + mother of the Daityas. She is termed the general mother of Titans + and malignant beings. See Book I Cantos XLV, XLVI. + + 536 Sugríva, the ex-king of the Vánars, foresters, or monkeys, an exile + from his home, wandering about the mountain Rishyamúka with his four + faithful ex-ministers. + + 537 The hermitage of the Saint Matanga which his curse prevented Báli, + the present king of the Vánars, from entering. The story is told at + length in Canto XI of this Book. + + 538 Hanumán, Sugríva's chief general, was the son of the God of Wind. + See Book I, Canto XVI. + + 539 A range of hills in Malabar; the Western Ghats in the Deccan. + + 540 Válmíki makes the second vowel in this name long or short to suit + the exigencies of the verse. Other Indian poets have followed his + example, and the same licence will be used in this translation. + + 541 I omit a recapitulatory and interpolated verse in a different metre, + which is as follows:--Reverencing with the words, So be it, the + speech of the greatly terrified and unequalled monkey king, the + magnanimous Hanumán then went where (stood) the very mighty Ráma + with Lakshman. + + 542 The semi divine Hanumán possesses, like the Gods and demons, the + power of wearing all shapes at will. He is one of the _Kámarúpís_. + + Like Milton's good and bad angels "as they please + They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size + Assume as likes them best, condense or rare." + + 543 Himálaya is of course _par excellence_ the Monarch of mountains, but + the complimentary title is frequently given to other hills as here + to Malaya. + + 544 Twisted up in a matted coil as was the custom of ascetics. + + 545 The sun and moon. + + 546 The rainbow. + + 547 The Vedas are four in number, the Rich or Rig-veda, the Yajush or + Yajur-veda; the Sáman or Sáma-veda, and the Atharvan or + Atharva-veda. See p. 3. Note. + + 548 The chest, the throat, and the head. + + 549 "In our own metrical romances, or wherever a poem is meant not for + readers but for chanters and oral reciters, these _formulæ_, to meet + the same recurring case, exist by scores. Thus every woman in these + metrical romances who happens to be young, is described as 'so + bright of ble,' or complexion; always a man goes 'the mountenance of + a mile' before he overtakes or is overtaken. And so on through a + vast bead-roll of cases. In the same spirit Homer has his eternal + {~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}'{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}' {~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON WITH DASIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMEGA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}, or {~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}'{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER MU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER BETA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER MU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER PHI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ETA~}, &c. + + To a reader of sensibility, such recurrences wear an air of + child-like simplicity, beautifully recalling the features of Homer's + primitive age. But they would have appeared faults to all + commonplace critics in literary ages." + + DE QUINCEY. _Homer and the Homeridæ_. + + 550 Bráhmans the sacerdotal caste. Kshatriyas the royal and military, + Vaisyas the mercantile, and Súdras the servile. + + 551 A protracted sacrifice extending over several days. See Book I, p. + 24 Note. + + 552 Possessed of all the auspicious personal marks that indicate + capacity of universal sovereignty. See Book I. p. 2, and Note 3. + + 553 Kabandha. See Book III. Canto LXXIII. + + 554 Fire for sacred purposes is produced by the attrition of two pieces + of wood. In marriage and other solemn covenants fire is regarded as + the holy witness in whose presence the agreement is made. Spenser in + a description of a marriage, has borrowed from the Roman rite what + he calls the housling, or "matrimonial rite." + + "His owne two hands the holy knots did knit + That none but death forever can divide. + His owne two hands, for such a turn most fit, + The housling fire did kindle and provide." + + Faery Queen, Book I. XII. 37. + + 555 Indra. + + 556 Báli the king _de facto_. + + 557 With the Indians, as with the ancient Greeks, the throbbing of the + right eye in a man is an auspicious sign, the throbbing of the left + eye is the opposite. In a woman the significations of signs are + reversed. + + 558 The Vedas stolen by the demons Madhu and Kaitabha. + + "The text has [Sanskrit text] which signifies literally 'the lost + vedic tradition.' It seems that allusion is here made to the Vedas + submerged in the depth of the sea, but promptly recovered by Vishnu + in one of his incarnations, as the brahmanic legend relates, with + which the orthodoxy of the Bráhmans intended perhaps to allude to + the prompt restoration and uninterrupted continuity of the ancient + vedic tradition." + + GORRESIO. + + 559 Like the wife of a Nága or Serpent-God carried off by an eagle. The + enmity between the King of birds and the serpent is of very frequent + occurrence. It seems to be a modification of the strife between the + Vedic Indra and the Ahi, the serpent or drought-fiend; between + Apollôn and the Python, Adam and the Serpent. + + 560 He means that he has never ventured to raise his eyes to her arms + and face, though he has ever been her devoted servant. + + 561 The wood in which Skanda or Kártikeva was brought up: + + "The Warrior-God + Whose infant steps amid the thickets strayed + Where the reeds wave over the holy sod." + + See also Book I, Canto XXIX. + + 562 "Sugríva's story paints in vivid colours the manners, customs and + ideas of the wild mountain tribes which inhabited Kishkindhya or the + southern hills of the Deccan, of the people whom the poem calls + monkeys, tribes altogether different in origin and civilization from + the Indo-Sanskrit race." GORRESIO. + + 563 A fiend slain by Báli. + + 564 Báli's mountain city. + + 565 The canopy or royal umbrella, one of the usual Indian regalia. + + 566 Whisks made of the hair of the Yak or Bos grunniers, also regal + insignia. + + 567 Righteous because he never transgresses his bounds, and + + "over his great tides + Fidelity presides." + + 568 Himálaya, the Lord of Snow, is the father of Umá the wife of Siva or + Sankar. + + 569 Indra's celestial elephant. + + 570 Báli was the son of Indra. See p. 28. + + 571 An Asur slain by Indra. See p. 261 Note. He is, like Vritra, a form + of the demon of drought destroyed by the beneficent God of the + firmament. + + 572 Another name of Indra or Mahendra. + + 573 The Bengal recension makes it return in the form of a swan. + + 574 Varuna is one of the oldest of the Vedic Gods, corresponding in name + and partly in character to the {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON WITH PSILI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~} of the Greeks and is often + regarded as the supreme deity. He upholds heaven and earth, + possesses extraordinary power and wisdom, sends his messengers + through both worlds, numbers the very winkings of men's eyes, + punishes transgressors whom he seizes with his deadly noose, and + pardons the sins of those who are penitent. In later mythology he + has become the God of the sea. + + 575 Budha, not to be confounded with the great reformer Buddha, is the + son of Soma or the Moon, and regent of the planet Mercury. Angára is + the regent of Mars who is called the red or the fiery planet. The + encounter between Michael and Satan is similarly said to have been + as if + + "Two planets rushing from aspect malign + Of fiercest opposition in midsky + Should combat, and their jarring spheres compound." + + _Paradise Lost._ Book VI. + + 576 The Asvins or Heavenly Twins, the Dioskuri or Castor and Pollux of + the Hindus, have frequently been mentioned. See p. 36, Note. + + 577 Called respectively Gárhapatya, Áhavaniya, and Dakshina, household, + sacrificial, and southern. + + 578 The store of merit accumulated by a holy or austere life secures + only a temporary seat in the mansion of bliss. When by the lapse of + time this store is exhausted, return to earth is unavoidable. + + 579 The conflagration which destroys the world at the end of a Yuga or + age. + + 580 Himálaya. + + 581 Tárá means "star." The poet plays upon the name by comparing her + beauty to that of the Lord of stars, the Moon. + + 582 Suparna, the Well-winged, is another name of Garuda the King of + Birds. See p. 28, Note. + + 583 The God of Death. + + 584 The flag-staff erected in honour of the God Indra is lowered when + the festival is over. Asvíní in astronomy is the head of Aries or + the first of the twenty-eight lunar mansions or asterisms. + + 585 Indra the father of Báli. + + 586 It is believed that every creature killed by Ráma obtained in + consequence immediate beatitude. + + "And blessed the hand that gave so dear a death." + + 587 "Yayáti was invited to heaven by Indra, and conveyed on the way + thither by Mátali, Indra's charioteer. He afterwards returned to + earth where, by his virtuous administration he rendered all his + subjects exempt from passion and decay." GARRETT'S C. D. OF INDIA. + + 588 The ascetic's dress which he wore during his exile. + + 589 There is much inconsistency in the passages of the poem in which the + Vánars are spoken of, which seems to point to two widely different + legends. The Vánars are generally represented as semi-divine beings + with preternatural powers, living in houses and eating and drinking + like men sometimes as here, as monkeys pure and simple, living is + woods and eating fruit and roots. + + 590 For a younger brother to marry before the elder is a gross violation + of Indian law and duty. The same law applied to daughters with the + Hebrews: "It must not be so done in our country to give the younger + before the first-born." GENESIS xix. 26. + + 591 "The hedgehog and porcupine, the lizard, the rhinoceros, the + tortoise, and the rabbit or hare, wise legislators declare lawful + food among five-toed animals." MANU, v. 18. + + 592 "He can not buckle his distempered cause + Within the belt of rule." + + MACBETH. + + 593 The _Ankus_ or iron hook with which an elephant is driven and + guided. + + 594 Hayagríva, Horse-necked, is a form of Vishnu. + + 595 "Asvatara is the name of a chief of the Nágas or serpents which + inhabit the regions under the earth; it is also the name of a + Gandharva. Asvatarí ought to be the wife of one of the two, but I am + not sure that this conjecture is right. The commentator does not say + who this Asvatarí is, or what tradition or myth is alluded to. + Vimalabodha reads Asvatarí in the nominative case, and explains, + Asvatarí is the sun, and as the sun with his rays brings back the + moon which has been sunk in the ocean and the infernal regions, so + will I bring back Sítá." GORRESIO. + + 596 That is, "Consider what answer you can give to your accusers when + they charge you with injustice in killing me." + + 597 Manu, Book VIII. 318. "But men who have committed offences and have + received from kings the punishment due to them, go pure to heaven + and become as clear as those who have done well." + + 598 Mándhátá was one of the earlier descendants of Ikshváku. His name is + mentioned in Ráma's genealogy, p. 81. + + 599 I cannot understand how Válmíki could put such an excuse as this + into Ráma's mouth. Ráma with all solemn ceremony, has made a league + of alliance with Báli's younger brother whom he regards as a dear + friend and almost as an equal, and now he winds up his reasons for + killing Báli by coolly saying: "Besides you are only a monkey, you + know, after all, and as such I have every right to kill you how, + when, and where I like." + + 600 A name of Garuda the king of birds, the great enemy of the Serpents. + + 601 Sugríva's wife. + + 602 "Our deeds still follow with us from afar. And what we have been + makes us what we are." + + 603 Sugríva and Angad. + + 604 Angad himself, being too young to govern, would be Yuvarája or + heir-apparent. + + 605 Sushena was the son of Varuna the God of the sea. + + 606 A demon with the tail of a dragon, that causes eclipses by + endeavouring to swallow the sun and moon. + + 607 The Lord of Stars is the Moon. + + 608 Or the passage may be interpreted: "Be neither too obsequious or + affectionate, nor wanting in due respect or love." + + 609 Sacrifices and all religious rites begin and end with ablution, and + the wife of the officiating Bráhman takes an important part in the + performance of the holy ceremonies. + + 610 Visvarúpa, a son of Twashtri or Visvakarmá the heavenly architect, + was a three-headed monster slain by Indra. + + 611 The Vánar chief, not to be confounded with Tárá. + + 612 Srávan: July-August. But the rains begin a month earlier, and what + follows must not be taken literally. The text has _púrvo' yam + várshiko másah Srávanah salilágamdh_. The Bengal recension has the + same, and Gorresio translates: "Equesto ilmese Srâvana + (luglio-agosto) primo della stagione piovosa, in cui dilagano le + acque." + + 613 Kártik: October-November. + + 614 "Indras, as the nocturnal sun, hides himself, transformed, in the + starry heavens: the stars are his eyes. The hundred-eyed or + all-seeing (panoptês) Argos placed as a spy over the actions of the + cow beloved by Zeus, in the Hellenic equivalent of this form of + Indras." DE GUBERNATIS, _Zoological Mythology_, Vol. I, p. 418. + + 615 Baudháyana and others. + + 616 Sugríva appears to have been consecrated with all the ceremonies + that attended the _Abhisheka_ or coronation of an Indian prince of + the Aryan race. Compare the preparations made for Ráma's + consecration, Book II, Canto III. Thus Homer frequently introduces + into Troy the rites of Hellenic worship. + + 617 Vitex Negundo. + + 618 Mályavat: "The name of this mountain appears to me to be erroneous, + and I think that instead of Mályavat should be read Malayavat, + Malaya is a group of mountains situated exactly in that southern + part of India where Ráma now was, while Mályavat is placed to the + north east." GORRESIO. + + 619 Mantles of the skin of the black antelope were the prescribed dress + of ascetics and religious students. + + 620 The sacred cord worn as the badge of religious initiation by men of + the three twice-born castes. + + 621 The hum with which students conduct their tasks. + + 622 I omit here a long general description of the rainy season which is + not found in the Bengal recension and appears to have been + interpolated by a far inferior and much later hand than Valmiki's. + It is composed in a metre different from that of the rest of the + Canto, and contains figures of poetical rhetoric and common-places + which are the delight of more recent poets. + + 623 Praushthapada or Bhadra, the modern Bhadon, corresponds to half of + August and half of September. + + 624 The Sáman or Sáma-veda, the third of the four Vedas, is really + merely a reproduction of parts of the Rig-veda, transposed and + scattered about piece-meal, only 78 verses in the whole being, it is + said, untraceable to the present recension of the Rig-veda. + + 625 Áshádha is the month corresponding to parts of June and July. + + 626 Bharat, who was regent during Ráma's absence. + + 627 Or with Gorresio, following the gloss of another commentary: "Has + completed every holy rite and accumulated stores of merit." + + 628 The river on which Ayodhyá was built. + + 629 I omit a _sloka_ or four lines on gratitude and ingratitude repeated + word for word from the last Canto. + + 630 The Indian crane; a magnificent bird easily domesticated. + + 631 The troops who guard the frontiers on the north, south, east and + west. + + 632 The Chátaka, Cuculus, Melanoleucus, is supposed to drink nothing but + the water for the clouds. + + 633 The time for warlike expeditions began when the rains had ceased. + + 634 The rainbow. + + 635 Indra's associates in arms, and musicians of his heaven. + + 636 Maireya, a spirituous liquor from the blossoms of the Lythrum + fruticosum, with sugar, &c. + + 637 Their names are as follows: Angad, Maínda, Dwida, Gavaya, Gaváksha, + Gaja, Sarabha, Vidyunmáli, Sampáti, Súryáksa, Hanumán, Vírabáhu, + Subáhu, Nala, Kúmuda, Sushena, Tára, Jámbuvatu, Dadhivakra, Níla, + Supátala, and Sunetra. + + 638 The Kalpadruma or Wishing-tree is one of the trees of Svarga or + Indra's Paradise: it has the power of granting all desires. + + 639 The meaning is that if a man promises to give a horse and then + breaks his word he commits a sin as great as if he had killed a + hundred horses. + + 640 The story is told in Book I, Canto LXIII, but the charmer there is + called Menaká. + + 641 Rohiní is the name of the ninth Nakshatra or lunar asterism + personified as a daughter of Daksha, and the favourite wife of the + Moon. Aldebaran is the principal star in the constellation. + + 642 Válmíki and succeeding poets make the second vowel in this name long + or short at their pleasure. + + 643 Some of the mountains here mentioned are fabulous and others it is + impossible to identify. Sugríva means to include all the mountains + of India from Kailás the residence of the God Kuvera, regarded as + one of the loftiest peaks of the Himálayas, to Mahendra in the + extreme south, from the mountain in the east where the sun is said + to rise to Astáchal or the western mountain where he sets. The + commentators give little assistance: that Mahásaila, &c. are certain + mountains is about all the information they give. + + 644 One of the celestial elephants of the Gods who protect the four + quarters and intermediate points of the compass. + + 645 Váyu or the Wind was the father of Hanumán. + + 646 The path or station of Vishnu is the space between the seven Rishis + or Ursa Major, and Dhruva or the polar star. + + 647 One of the seven seas which surround the earth in concentric + circles. + + 648 The title of Mahesvar or Mighty Lord is sometimes given to Indra, + but more generally to Siva whom it here denotes. + + 649 See Book I, Canto XVI. + + 650 The numbers are unmanageable in English verse. The poet speaks of + hundreds of _arbudas_; and an _arbuda_ is a hundred millions. + + 651 Anuhláda or Anuhráda is one of the four sons of the mighty + Hiranyakasipu, an Asur or a Daitya son of Kasyapa and Diti and + killed by Vishnu in his incarnation of the Man-Lion _Narasinha_. + According to the Bhágavata Purána the Daitya or Asur Hiranyakasipu + and Hiranyáksha his brother, both killed by Vishnu, were born again + as Rávan and Kumbhakarna his brother. + + 652 Puloma, a demon, was the father-in-law of Indra who destroyed him in + order to avert an imprecation. Paulomí is a patronymic denoting + Sachí the daughter of Puloma. + + 653 "Observe the variety of colours which the poem attributes to all + these inhabitants of the different mountainous regions, some white, + others yellow, &c. Such different colours were perhaps peculiar and + distinctive characteristics of those various races." GORRESSIO. + + 654 Sushen. + + 655 Tára. + + 656 Kesarí was the husband of Hanúmán's mother, and is here called his + father. + + 657 "I here unite under one heading two animals of very diverse nature + and race, but which from some gross resemblances, probably helped by + an equivoque in the language, are closely affiliated in the Hindoo + myth {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} a reddish colour of the skin, want of symmetry and + ungainliness of form, strength in hugging with the fore paws or + arms, the faculty of climbing, shortness of tail(?), sensuality, + capacity of instruction in dancing and in music, are all + characteristics which more or less distinguish and meet in bears as + well as in monkeys. In the _Rámáyanam_, the wise Jámnavant, the + Odysseus of the expedition of Lanká, is called now king of the bears + (rikshaparthivah), now great monkey (_Mahákapih_)." DE GUBERNATIS: + _Zoological Mythology_, Vol. II. p. 97. + + 658 Gandhamádana, Angad, Tára, Indrajánu, Rambha, Durmukha, Hanumán, + Nala, Da mukha, Sarabha, Kumuda, Vahni. + + 659 Daityas and Dánavas are fiends and enemies of the Gods, like the + Titans of Greek mythology. + + 660 I reduce the unwieldy numbers of the original to more modest + figures. + + 661 Sarayú now Sarjú is the river on which Ayodhyá was built. + + 662 Kausikí is a river which flows through Behar, commonly called Kosi. + + 663 Bhagírath's daughter is Gangá or the Ganges. The legend is told at + length in Book I Canto XLIV. _The Descent of Gangá_. + + 664 A mountain not identified. + + 665 The Jumna. The river is personified as the twin sister of Yáma, and + hence regarded as the daughter of the Sun. + + 666 The Sarasvatí (corruptly called Sursooty, is supposed to join the + Ganges and Jumna at Prayág or Allahabad. It rises in the mountains + bounding the north-east part of the province of Delhi, and running + in a south-westerly direction becomes lost in the sands of the great + desert. + + 667 The Sindhu is the Indus, the Sanskrit _s_ becoming _h_ in Persian + and being in this instance dropped by the Greeks. + + 668 The Sone which rises in the district of Nagpore and falls into the + Ganges above Patna. + + 669 Mahí is a river rising in Malwa and falling into the gulf of Cambay + after a westerly course of 280 miles. + + 670 There is nothing to show what parts of the country the poet intended + to denote as silk-producing and silver-producing. + + 671 Yavadwipa means the island of Yava, wherever that may be. + + 672 Sisir is said to be a mountain ridge projecting from the base of + Meru on the south. Wilson's _Vishnu Purána_, ed. Hall, Vol. II. p. + 117. + + 673 This appears to be some mythical stream and not the well-known Sone. + The name means red-coloured. + + 674 A fabulous thorny rod of the cotton tree used for torturing the + wicked in hell. The tree gives its name, Sálmalí, to one of the + seven Dwípas, or great divisions of the known continent: and also to + a hell where the wicked are tormented with the pickles of the tree. + + 675 The king of the feathered creation. + + 676 Visvakarmá, the Mulciber of the Indian heaven. + + 677 "The terrific fiends named Mandehas attempt to devour the sun: for + Brahmá denounced this curse upon them, that without the power to + perish they should die every day (and revive by night) and therefore + a fierce contest occurs (daily) between them and the sun." WILSON'S + Vishnu Purána. Vol. II. p. 250. + + 678 Said in the _Vishnu Purána_ to be a ridge projecting from the base + of Meru to the north. + + 679 Kinnars are centaurs reversed, beings with equine head and human + bodies. + + 680 Yakshas are demi-gods attendant on Kuvera the God of wealth. + + 681 Aurva was one of the descendants of Bhrigu. From his wrath proceeded + a flame that threatened to destroy the world, had not Aurva cast it + into the ocean where it remained concealed, and having the face of a + horse. The legend is told in the _Mahábhárat_. I. 6802. + + 682 The word Játarúpa means gold. + + 683 The celebrated mythological serpent king Sesha, called also Ananta + or the infinite, represented as bearing the earth on one of his + thousand heads. + + 684 Jambudwípa is in the centre of the seven great _dwípas_ or + continents into which the world is divided, and in the centre of + Jambudwípa is the golden mountain Meru 84,000 yojans high, and + crowned by the great city of Brahmá. See WILSON'S _Vishnu Purána_, + Vol. II. p. 110. + + 685 Vaikhánases are a race of hermit saints said to have sprung from the + nails of Prajápati. + + 686 "The wife of Kratu, Samnati, brought forth the sixty thousand + Válakhilyas, pigmy sages, no bigger than a joint of the thumb, + chaste, pious, resplendent as the rays of the Sun." WILSON'S _Vishnu + Purána_. + + 687 The continent in which Sudarsan or Meru stands, _i.e._ Jambudwíp. + + 688 The names of some historical peoples which occur in this Canto and + in the Cantos describing the south and north will be found in the + ADDITIONAL NOTES. They are bare lists, not susceptible of a metrical + version. + + 689 Suhotra, Sarári, Saragulma, Gayá, Gaváksha, Gavaya, Sushena, + Gandhamádana, Ulkámukha, and Ananga. + + 690 The modern Nerbudda. + + 691 Krishnavení is mentioned in the _Vishnu Purána_ as "the deep + Krishnavení" but there appears to be no clue to its identification. + + 692 The modern Godavery. + + 693 The Mekhalas or Mekalas according to the Paránas live in the Vindhya + hills, but here they appear among the peoples of the south. + + 694 Utkal is still the native name of Orissa. + + 695 The land of the people of the "ten forts." Professor Hall in a note + on WILSON'S _Vishnu Purána_, Vol. II. p. 160 says: "The oral + traditions of the vicinity to this day assign the name of Dasárna to + a region lying to the east of the District of Chundeyree." + + 696 Avantí is one of the ancient names of the celebrated Ujjayin or + Oujein in Central India. + + 697 Not identified. + + 698 Ayomukh means iron faced. The mountain is not identified. + + 699 The Káverí or modern Cauvery is well known and has always borne the + same appellation, being the Chaberis of Ptolemy. + + 700 One of the seven principal mountain chains: the southern portion of + the Western Gháts. + + 701 Agastya is the great sage who has already frequently appeared as + Ráma's friend and benefactor. + + 702 Támraparní is a river rising in Malaya. + + 703 The Pándyas are a people of the Deccan. + + 704 Mahendra is the chain of hills that extends from Orissa and the + northern Sircars to Gondwána, part of which near Ganjam is still + called Mahendra Malay or hills of Mahendra. + + 705 Lanká, Sinhaladvípa, Sarandib, or Ceylon. + + 706 The Flowery Hill of course is mythical. + + 707 The whole of the geography south of Lanká is of course mythical. + Súryaván means Sunny. + + 708 Vaidyut means connected with lightning. + + 709 Agastya is here placed far to the south of Lanká. Earlier in this + Canto he was said to dwell on Malaya. + + 710 Bhogavatí has been frequently mentioned: it is the capital of the + serpent Gods or demons, and usually represented as being in the + regions under the earth. + + 711 Vásuki is according to some accounts the king of the Nágas or + serpent Gods. + + 712 Sailúsha, Gramini, Siksha, Suka, Babhru. + + 713 The distant south beyond the confines of the earth is the home of + departed spirits and the city of Yáma the God of Death. + + 714 Suráshtra, the "good country," is the modern Sura + + 715 A country north-west of Afghanistan, Baíkh. + + 716 The Moon-mountain here is mythical. + + 717 Sindhu is the Indus. + + 718 Páriyátra, or as more usually written Páripátra, is the central or + western portion of the Vindhya chain which skirts the province of + Malwa. + + 719 Vajra means both diamond and thunderbolt, the two substances being + supposed to be identical. + + 720 Chakraván means the discus-bearer. + + 721 The discus is the favourite weapon of Vishnu. + + 722 The Indian Hephaistos or Vulcan. + + 723 Panchajan was a demon who lived in the sea in the form of a conch + shell. WILSON'S _Vishnu Purána_, V. 21. + + 724 Hayagríva, Horse-necked, is the name of a Daitya who at the + dissolution of the universe caused by Brahmá's sleep, seized and + carried off the Vedas. Vishnu slew him and recovered the sacred + treasures. + + 725 Meru stands in the centre of Jambudwípa and consequently of the + earth. "The sun travels round the world, keeping Meru always on his + right. To the spectator who fronts him, therefore, as he rises Meru + must be always on the north; and as the sun's rays do not penetrate + beyond the centre of the mountain, the regions beyond, or to the + north of it must be in darkness, whilst those on the south of it + must be in light: north and south being relative, not absolute, + terms, depending on the position of the spectator with regard to the + Sun and Meru." WILSON'S _Vishnu Purána_, Vol. II. p. 243. Note. + + 726 The Visvadevas are a class of deities to whom sacrifices should be + daily offered, as part of the ordinary worship of the householder. + According to the _Váyu Purána_, this is a privilege conferred on + them by Brahmá and the Pitris as a reward for religious austerities + practised by them upon Himálaya. + + 727 The eight Vasus were originally personifications like other Vedic + deities, of natural phenomena, such as Fire, Wind, &c. Their + appellations are variously given by different authorities. + + 728 The Maruts or Storm-Gods, frequently addressed and worshipped as the + attendants and allies of Indra. + + 729 The mountain behind which the sun sets. + + 730 One of the oldest and mightiest of the Vedic deities; in later + mythology regarded as the God of the sea. + + 731 The knotted noose with which he seizes and punishes transgressors. + + 732 Sávarni is a Manu, offspring of the Sun by Chháyá. + + 733 The poet has not said who the sons of Yáma are. + + 734 The Lodhra or Lodh (Symplocos Racemosa) and the Devadáru or Deodar + are well known trees. + + 735 The hills mentioned are not identifiable. Soma means the Moon. Kála, + black; Sudarasan, fair to see; and Devasakhá friend of the Gods. + + 736 The God of Wealth. + + 737 The nymphs of Paradise. + + 738 Kuvera the son of Visravas. + + 739 A class of demigods who, like the Yakshas, are the attendants of + Kuvera, and the guardians of his treasures. + + 740 Situated in the eastern part of the Himálaya chain, on the north of + Assam. The mountain was torn asunder and the pass formed by the + War-God Kártikeya and Parasuráma. + + 741 "The Uttara Kurus, it should be remarked, may have been a real + people, as they are mentioned in the Aitareya Bráhmana, VIII. 14.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} + Wherefore the several nations who dwell in this northern quarter, + beyond the Himavat, the Uttara Kurus and the Uttara Madras are + consecrated to glorious dominion, and people term them the glorious. + In another passage of the same work, however, the Uttara Kurus are + treated as belonging to the domain of mythology." MUIR'S _Sanskrit + Texts_. Vol. I. p. 494. See ADDITIONAL NOTES. + + 742 The Moon-mountain. + + 743 The Rudras are the same as the storm winds, more usually called + Maruts, and are often associated with Indra. In the later mythology + the Rudras are regarded as inferior manifestations of Siva, and most + of their names are also names of Siva. + + 744 Canto IX. + + 745 Udayagiri or the hill from which the sun rises. + + 746 Asta is the mountain behind which the sun sets. + + 747 Himálaya, the Hills of Snow. + + 748 Canto XI. + + 749 Hanumán was the leader of the army of the south which was under the + nominal command of Angad the heir apparent. + + 750 The Bengal recension--Gorresio's edition--calls this Asur or demon the + son of Márícha. + + 751 The skin of the black antelope was the ascetic's proper garb. + + 752 Usanas is the name of a sage mentioned in the Vedas. In the epic + poems he is identified with Sukra, the regent of the planet Venus, + and described as the preceptor of the Asuras or Daityas, and + possessor of vast knowledge. + + 753 Hemá is one of the nymphs of Paradise. + + 754 Merusávarni is a general name for the last four of the fourteen + Manus. + + 755 Svayamprabhá, the "self-luminous," is according to DE GUBERNATIS the + moon: "In the _Svayamprabhá_ too, we meet with the moon as a good + fairy who, from the golden palace which she reserves for her friend + Hemá (the golden one:) is during a month the guide, in the vast + cavern of Hanumant and his companions, who have lost their way in + the search of the dawn Sítá." This is is not quite accurate: Hanumán + and his companions wander for a month in the cavern without a guide, + and then Svayamprabhá leads them out. + + 756 Purandara, the destroyer of cities; the cities being the clouds + which the God of the firmament bursts open with his thunderbolts, to + release the waters imprisoned in these fortresses of the demons of + drought. + + 757 Perceived that Angad had secured, through the love of the Vánars, + the reversion of Sugríva's kingdom; or, as another commentator + explains it, perceived that Angad had obtained a new kingdom in the + enchanted cave which the Vánars, through love of him, would consent + to occupy. + + 758 Vrihaspati, Lord of Speech, the Preceptor of the Gods. + + 759 Sukra is the regent of the planet Venus, and the preceptor of the + Daityas. + + 760 The name of various kinds of grass used at sacrificial ceremonies, + especially, of the Kusa grass, Poa cynosuroides, which was used to + strew the ground in preparing for a sacrifice, the officiating + Brahmans being purified by sitting on it. + + 761 Sampáti is the eldest son of the celebrated Garuda the king of + birds. + + 762 Vivasvat or the Sun is the father of Yáma the God of Death. + + 763 Book III, Canto LI. + + 764 Dasaratha's rash oath and fatal promise to his wife Kaikeyí. + + 765 Vritra, "the coverer, hider, obstructer (of rain)" is the name of + the Vedic personification of an imaginary malignant influence or + demon of darkness and drought supposed to take possession of the + clouds, causing them to obstruct the clearness of the sky and keep + back the waters. Indra is represented as battling with this evil + influence, and the pent-up clouds being practically represented as + mountains or castles are shattered by his thunderbolt and made to + open their receptacles. + + 766 Frequent mention has been made of the three steps of Vishnu + typifying the rising, culmination, and setting of the sun. + + 767 For the _Churning of the Sea_, see Book I, Canto XLV. + + 768 Kuvera, the God of Wealth. + + 769 The architect of the gods. + + 770 Garuda, son of Vinatá, the sovereign of the birds. + + 771 "The well winged one," Garuda. + + 772 The god of the sea. + + 773 Mahendra is chain of mountains generally identified with part of the + Gháts of the Peninsula. + + 774 Mátarisva is identified with Váyu, the wind. + + 775 Of course not equal to the whole earth, says the Commentator, but + equal to Janasthán. + + 776 This appears to be the Indian form of the stories of Phaethon and + Dædalus and Icarus. + + 777 According to the promise, given him by Brahmá. See Book I, Canto + XIV. + + 778 In the Bengal recension the fourth Book ends here, the remaining + Cantos being placed in the fifth. + + 779 Each chief comes forward and says how far he can leap. Gaja says he + can leap ten yojans. Gavaksha can leap twenty. Gavaya thirty, and so + on up to ninety. + + 780 Prahláda, the son of Hiranyakasipu, was a pious Datya remarkable for + his devotion to Vishnu, and was on this account persecuted by his + father. + + 781 The Bengal recension calls him Aríshtanemi's brother. "The + commentator says 'Aríshtanemi is Aruna.' Aruna the charioteer of the + sun is the son of Kasyapa and Vinatá and by consequence brother of + Garuda, called Vainateya from Vinatá, his mother." GORRESSIO. + + 782 A nymph of Paradise. + + 783 Hanu or Hanú means jaw. Hanumán or Hanúmán means properly one with a + large jaw. + + 784 Vishnu, the God of the Three Steps. + + 785 Náráyan, "He who moved upon the waters," is Vishnu. The allusion is + to the famous three steps of that God. + + 786 The Milky Way. + + 787 This Book is called Sundar or the Beatiful. To a European taste it + is the most intolerably tedious of the whole poem, abounding in + repetition, overloaded description, and long and useless speeches + which impede the action of the poem. Manifest interpolations of + whole Cantos also occur. I have omitted none of the action of the + Book, but have occasionally omitted long passages of common-place + description, lamentation, and long stories which have been again and + again repeated. + + 788 Brahmá the Self-Existent. + + 789 Maináka was the son of Himálaya and Mená or Menaká. + + 790 Thus Milton makes the hills of heaven self-moving at command: + + "At his command the uprooted hills retired + Each to his place, they heard his voice and went + Obsequious" + + 791 The spirit of the mountain is separable from the mountain. Himalaya + has also been represented as standing in human form on one of his + own peaks. + + 792 Ságar or the Sea is said to have derived its name from Sagar. The + story is fully told in Book I, Cantos XLII, XLIII, and XLIV. + + 793 Kritu is the first of the four ages of the world, the golden age, + also called Satya. + +_ 794 Parvata_ means a mountain and in the Vedas a cloud. Hence in later + mythology the mountains have taken the place of the clouds as the + objects of the attacks of Indra the Sun-God. The feathered king is + Garuda. + + 795 "The children of Surasá were a thousand mighty many-headed serpents, + traversing the sky." WILSON'S _Vishnu Purána_, Vol. II. p. 73. + + 796 She means, says the Commentator, pursue thy journey if thou can. + + 797 If Milton's spirits are allowed the power of infinite self-extension + and compression the same must be conceded to Válmíki's supernatural + beings. Given the power as in Milton the result in Válmíki is + perfectly consistent. + + 798 "Daksha is the son of Brahmá and one of the Prajápatis or divine + progenitors. He had sixty daughters, twenty-seven of whom married to + Kasyapa produced, according to one of the Indian cosmogonies, all + mundane beings. Does the epithet, Descendant of Daksha, given to + Surasá, mean that she is one of those daughters? I think not. This + epithet is perhaps an appellation common to all created beings as + having sprung from Daksha." GORRESSIO. + + 799 Sinhiká is the mother of Ráhu the dragon's head or ascending node, + the chief agent in eclipses. + + 800 According to De Gubernatis, the author of the very learned, + ingenious, and interesting though too fanciful _Zoological + Mythology_. Hanumán here represents the sun entering into and + escaping from a cloud. The biblical Jonah, according to him, + typifies the same phenomenon. Sá'dí, speaking of sunset, says _Yùnas + andar-i-dihán-imáhi shud_: Jonas was within the fish's mouth. See + ADDITIONAL NOTES. + + 801 The Buchanania Latifolia. + + 802 The Bauhinia Variegata. + + 803 Through the power that Rávan's stern mortifications had won for him + his trees bore flowers and fruit simultaneously. + + 804 Visvakarmá is the architect of the Gods. + + 805 So in Paradise Lost Satan when he has stealthily entered the garden + of Eden assumes the form of a cormorant. + + 806 Priests who fought only with the weapons of religion, the sacred + grass used like the verbena of the Romans at sacred rites and the + consecrated fire to consume the offering of ghee. + + 807 One of the Rákshas lords. + + 808 The brother Rávan. + + 809 Indra's elephant. + + 810 Rávan's palace appears to have occupied the whole extent of ground, + and to have contained within its outer walls the mansions of all the + great Rákshas chiefs. Rávan's own dwelling seems to have been + situated within the enchanted chariot Pushpak: but the description + is involved and confused, and it is difficult to say whether the + chariot was inside the palace or the palace inside the chariot. + + 811 Pushpak from _pushpa_ a flower. The car has been mentioned before in + Rávan's expedition to carry off Sítá, Book III, Canto XXXV. + + 812 Lakshmí is the wife of Vishnu and the Goddess of Beauty and + Felicity. She rose, like Aphrodite, from the foam of the sea. For an + account of her birth and beauty, see Book I, Canto XLV. + + 813 Visvakarmá is the architect of the Gods, the Hephaestos or Mulciber + of the Indian heaven. + + 814 Rávan in the resistless power which his long austerities had endowed + him with, had conquered his brother Kuvera the God of Gold and taken + from him his greatest treasure this enchanted car. + + 815 Like Milton's heavenly car, "Itself instinct with spirit." + + 816 Women, says Válmíki. But the Commentator says that automatic figures + only are meant. Women would have seen Hanumán and given the alarm. + + 817 Rávan had fought against Indra and the Gods, and his body was still + scarred by the wounds inflicted by the tusks of Indra's elephant and + by the fiery bolts of the Thunderer. + + 818 The Vasus are a class of eight deities, originally personifications + of natural phenomena. + + 819 The Maruts are the winds or Storm-Gods. + + 820 The Ádityas originally seven deities of the heavenly sphere of whom + Varuna is the chief. The name Áditya was afterwards given to any + God, specially to Súrya the Sun. + + 821 The Asvins are the Heavenly Twins, the Castor and Pollux of the + Hindus. + + 822 The poet forgets that Hanumán has reduced himself to the size of a + cat. + + 823 Sítá "not of woman born," was found by King Janak as he was turning + up the ground in preparation for a sacrifice. See Book II, Canto + CXVIII. + + 824 The six _Angas_ or subordinate branches of the Vedas are 1. + _Sikshá_, the science of proper articulation and pronunciation: 2. + _Chhandas_, metre: 3. _Vyákarana_, linguistic analysis or grammar: + 4. _Nirukta_, explanation of difficult Vedic words: 5. _Jyotishtom_, + Astronomy, or rather the Vedic Calendar: 6. _Kalpa_, ceremonial. + + 825 There appears to be some confusion of time here. It was already + morning when Hanumán entered the grove, and the torches would be + needless. + + 826 Rávan is one of those beings who can "climb them as they will," and + can of course assume the loveliest form to please human eyes as well + as the terrific shape that suits the king of the Rákshases. + + 827 White and lovely as the Arant or nectar recovered from the depths of + the Milky Sea when churned by the assembled Gods. See Book I, Canto + XLV. + + 828 Rávan in his magic car carrying off the most beautiful women reminds + us of the magician in _Orlando Furioso_, possesor of the flying + horse. + + "Volando talor s'alza ne le stelle, + E poi quasi talor la terra rade; + E ne porta con lui tutte le belle + Donne che trova per quelle contrade." + + 829 Indian women twisted their long hair in a single braid as a sign of + mourning for their absent husbands. + + 830 Janak, king of Míthilá, was Sítá's father. + + 831 Hiranyakasipu was a king of the Daityas celebrated for his + blasphemous impieties. When his pious son Prahlada praised Vishnu + the Daitya tried to kill him, when the God appeared in the + incarnation of the man-lion and tore the tyrant to pieces. + + 832 Do unto others as thou wouldst they should do unto thee, is a + precept frequently occurring in the old Indian poems. This charity + is to embrace not human beings only, but bird and beast as well: "He + prayeth best who loveth best all things both great and small." + + 833 It was the custom of Indian warriors to mark their arrows with their + ciphers or names, and it seems to have been regarded as a point of + honour to give an enemy the satisfaction of knowing who had shot at + him. This passage however contains, if my memory serves me well, the + first mention in the poem of this practice, and as arrows have been + so frequently mentioned and described with almost every conceivable + epithet, its occurrence here seems suspicious. No mention of, or + allusion to writing has hitherto occurred in the poem. + + 834 This threat in the same words occurs in Book III, Canto LVI. + + 835 Rávan carried off and kept in his palace not only earthly princesses + but the daughters of Gods and Gandharvas. + + 836 The wife of Indra. + + 837 These four lines have occurred before. Book III, Canto LVI. + + 838 Prajápatis are the ten lords of created beings first created by + Brahmá; somewhat like the Demiurgi of the Gnostics. + + 839 "This is the number of the Vedic divinities mentioned in the + Rig-veda. In Ashtaka I. Súkta XXXIV, the Rishi Hiranyastúpa invoking + the Asvins says: Á Násatyá tribhirekádasairiha devebniryátam: 'O + Násatyas (Asvins) come hither with the thrice eleven Gods.' And in + Súkta XLV, the Rishi Praskanva addressing his hymn to Agni (ignis, + fire), thus invokes him: 'Lord of the red steeds, propitiated by our + prayers lead hither the thirty-three Gods.' This number must + certainly have been the actual number in the early days of the Vedic + religion: although it appears probable enough that the thirty-three + Vedic divinities could not then be found co-ordinated in so + systematic a way as they were arranged more recently by the authors + of the Upanishads. In the later ages of Bramanism the number went on + increasing without measure by successive mythical and religious + creations which peopled the Indian Olympus with abstract beings of + every kind. But through lasting veneration of the word of the Veda + the custom regained of giving the name of 'the thirty-three Gods' to + the immense phalanx of the multiplied deities." GORRESIO. + + 840 Serpent-Gods who dwell in the regions under the earth. + + 841 In the mythology of the epics the Gandharvas are the heavenly + singers or musicians who form the orchestra at the banquets of the + Gods, and they belong to the heaven of India in whose battles they + share. + + 842 The mother of Ráma. + + 843 The mother of Lakshman. + + 844 In the south is the region of Yáma the God of Death, the place of + departed spirits. + + 845 Kumbhakarna was one of Rávan's brothers. + + 846 The guards are still in the grove, but they are asleep; and Sítá has + crept to a tree at some distance from them. + + 847 "As the reason assigned in these passages for not addressing Sítá in + Sanskrit such as a Bráhman would use is not that she would not + understand it, but that it would alarm her and be unsuitable to the + speaker, we must take them as indicating that Sanskrit, if not + spoken by women of the upper classes at the time when the Rámáyana + was written (whenever that may have been), was at least understood + by them, and was commonly spoken by men of the priestly class, and + other educated persons. By the Sanskrit proper to an [ordinary] man, + alluded to in the second passage, may perhaps be understood not a + language in which words different from Sanskrit were used, but the + employment of formal and elaborate diction." MUIR'S _Sanskrit + Texts_, Part II. p. 166. + + 848 Svayambhu, the Self-existent, Brahmá. + + 849 Vrihaspati or Váchaspati, the Lord of Speech and preceptor of the + Gods. + + 850 The Asurs were the fierce enemies of the Gods. + + 851 The Rudras are manifestations of Siva. + + 852 The Maruts or Storm Gods. + + 853 Rohiní is an asterism personified as the daughter of Daksha and the + favourite wife of the Moon. The chief star in the constellation is + Aldebaran. + + 854 Arundhatí was the wife of the great sage Vasishtha, and regarded as + the pattern of conjugal excellence. She was raised to the heavens as + one of the Pleiades. + + 855 The Gods do not shed tears; nor do they touch the ground when they + walk or stand. Similarly Milton's angels marched above the ground + and "the passive air upbore their nimble tread." Virgil's "vera + incessu patuit dea" may refer to the same belief. + + 856 That a friend of Ráma would praise him as he should be praised, and + that if the stranger were Rávan in disguise he would avoid the + subject. + + 857 Kuvera the God of Gold. + + 858 Sítá of course knows nothing of what has happened to Ráma since the + time when she was carried away by Rávan. The poet therefore thinks + it necessary to repeat the whole story of the meeting between Ráma + and Sugríva, the defeat of Bálí, and subsequent events. I give the + briefest possible outline of the story. + + 859 DE GUBERNATIS thinks that this ring which the Sun Ráma sends to the + Dawn Sítá is a symbol of the sun's disc. + + 860 Sachí is the loved and lovely wife of Indra, and she is taken as the + type of a woman protected by a jealous and all-powerful husband. + + 861 The mountain near Kishkindhá. + + 862 Airávat is the mighty elephant on which Indra delights to ride. + + 863 Vibhishan is the wicked Rávan's good brother. + + 864 Her name is Kalá, or in the Bengal recension Nandá. + + 865 One of Rávan's chief councillors. + + 866 Hanumán when he entered the city had in order to escape observation + condensed himself to the size of a cat. + + 867 The brook Mandákiní, not far from Chitrakúta where Ráma sojourned + for a time. + + 868 The poet here changes from the second person to the third. + + 869 The whole long story is repeated with some slight variations and + additions from Book II, Canto XCVI. I give here only the outline. + + 870 The expedients to vanquish an enemy or to make him come to terms are + said to be four: conciliation, gifts, disunion, and force or + punishment. Hanumán considers it useless to employ the first three + and resolves to punish Rávan by destroying his pleasure-grounds. + + 871 Kinkar means the special servant of a sovereign, who receives his + orders immediately from his master. The Bengal recension gives these + Rákshases an epithet which the Commentator explains "as generated in + the mind of Brahmá." + + 872 Ráma _de jure_ King of Kosal of which Ayodhyá was the capital. + +_ 873 Chaityaprásáda_ is explained by the Commentator as the place where + the Gods of the Rákshases were kept. Gorresio translates it by "un + grande edificio." + + 874 The bow of Indra is the rainbow. + + 875 We were told a few lines before that the chariot of Jambumáli was + drawn by asses. Here horses are spoken of. The Commentator notices + the discrepancy and says that by horses asses are meant. + + 876 Armed with the bow of Indra, the rainbow. + + 877 Rávan's son. + + 878 Conqueror of Indra, another of Rávan's sons. + + 879 The _sloka_ which follows is probably an interpolation, as it is + inconsistent with the questioning in Canto L.: + + He looked on Rávan in his pride, + And boldly to the monarch cried: + "I came an envoy to this place + From him who rules the Vánar race." + + 880 The ten heads of Rávan have provoked much ridicule from European + critics. It should be remembered that Spenser tells us of "two + brethren giants, the one of which had two heads, the other three;" + and Milton speaks of the "four-fold visaged Four," the four Cherubic + shapes each of whom had four faces. + + 881 Durdhar, or as the Bengal recension reads Mahodara, Prahasta, + Mahápársva, and Nikumbha. + + 882 The chief attendant of Siva. + + 883 Bali, not to be confounded with Báli the Vánar, was a celebrated + Daitya or demon who had usurped the empire of the three worlds, and + who was deprived of two thirds of his dominions by Vishnu in the + Dwarf-incarnation. + + 884 When Hanumán was bound with cords, Indrajít released his captive + from the spell laid upon him by the magic weapon. + + 885 "One who murders an ambassador (_rája bhata_) goes to Taptakumbha, + the hell of heated caldrons." WILSON'S _Vishnu Purana_, Vol. II. p. + 217. + + 886 The fire which is supposed to burn beneath the sea. + + 887 Sítá is likened to the fire which is an emblem of purity. + + 888 I omit two stanzas which continue the metaphor of the sea or lake of + air. The moon is its lotus, the sun its wild-duck, the clouds are + its water-weeds, Mars is its shark and so on. Gorresio remarks: + "This comparison of a great lake to the sky and of celestial to + aquatic objects is one of those ideas which the view and qualities + of natural scenery awake in lively fancies. Imagine one of those + grand and splendid lakes of India covered with lotus blossoms, + furrowed by wild-ducks of the most vivid colours, mantled over here + and there with flowers and water weeds &c. and it will be understood + how the fancy of the poet could readily compare to the sky radiant + with celestial azure the blue expanse of the water, to the soft + light of the moon the inner hue of the lotus, to the splendour of + the sun the brilliant colours of the wild-fowl, to the stars the + flowers, to the cloud the weeds that float upon the water &c." + + 889 Sunábha is the mountain that rose from the sea when Hanumán passed + over to Lanká. + + 890 Three Cantos of repetition are omitted. + +_ 891 Madhuvan_ the "honey-wood." + + 892 Indra's pleasure-ground or elysium. + + 893 Janak was king of Videha or Mithilá in Behar. + + 894 The original contains two more Cantos which end the Book. Canto + LXVII begins thus: "Hanumán thus addressed by the great-souled son + of Raghu related to the son of Raghu all that Sítá had said." And + the two Cantos contain nothing but Hanumán's account of his + interview with Sítá, and the report of his own speeches as well as + of hers. + + 895 The Sixth Book is called in Sanskrit _Yuddha-Kánda_ or _The War_, + and _Lanká-Kánda_. It is generally known at the present day by the + latter title. + + 896 Váyu is the God of Wind. + + 897 Garuda the King of Birds. + + 898 Serpent-Gods. + + 899 The God of the sea. + + 900 Indra's elephant. + + 901 Kuvera, God of wealth. + + 902 Kuvera's elephant. + + 903 The planet Venus, or its regent who is regarded as the son of Bhrigu + and preceptor of the Daityas. + + 904 The seven _rishis_ or saints who form the constellation of the Great + Bear. + + 905 Trisanku was raised to the skies to form a constellation in the + southern hemisphere. The story in told in Book I, Canto LX. + + 906 The sage Visvámitra, who performed for Trisanku the great sacrifice + which raised him to the heavens. + + 907 One of the lunar asterisms containing four or originally two stars + under the regency of a dual divinity Indrágni, Indra and Agni. + + 908 The lunar asterism Múla, belonging to the Rákshases. + + 909 The Asurs or demons dwell imprisoned in the depths beneath the sea. + + 910 The God of Riches, brother and enemy of Rávan and first possessor of + Pushpak the flying car. + + 911 King of the Serpents. Sankha and Takshak are two of the eight + Serpent Chiefs. + + 912 The God of Death, the Pluto of the Hindus. + + 913 Literally Indra's conqueror, so called from his victory over that + God. + + 914 Their names are Nikumbha, Rabhasa, Súryasatru, Suptaghna, Yajnakopa, + Mahápársva, Mahodara, Agniketu, Rasmiketu, Durdharsha, Indrasatru, + Prahasta, Virúpáksha, Vajradanshtra, Dhúmráksha, Durmukha, Mahábala. + + 915 Similarly Antenor urges the restoration of Helen: + + "Let Sparta's treasures be this hour restored, + And Argive Helen own her ancient lord. + As this advice ye practise or reject, + So hope success, or dread the dire effect," + + POPE'S _Homer's Iliad_, Book VII. + + 916 The _Agnisálá_ or room where the sacrificial fire was kept. + + 917 The exudation of a fragrant fluid from the male elephant's temples, + especially at certain seasons, is frequently spoken of in Sanskrit + poetry. It is said to deceive and attract the bees, and is regarded + as a sign of health and masculine vigour. + + 918 Consisting of warriors on elephants, warriors in chariots, + charioteers, and infantry. + + 919 Indra, generally represented as surrounded by the Maruts or + Storm-Gods. + + 920 Janasthán, where Ráma lived as an ascetic. + + 921 Máyá, regarded as the paragon of female beauty, was the creation of + Maya the chief artificer of the Daityas or Dánavs. + + 922 One of the Nymphs of Indra's heaven. + + 923 The Lotus River, a branch of the heavenly Gangá. + +_ 924 Trilokanátha_, Lord of the Three Worlds, is a title of Indra. + + 925 The celestial elephant that carries Indra. + + 926 As producers of the _ghi_, clarified butter or sacrificial oil, used + in fire-offerings. + + 927 This desertion to the enemy is somewhat abrupt, and is narrated with + brevity not usual with Válmíki. In the Bengal recension the + preceding speakers and speeches differ considerably from those given + in the text which I follow. Vibhishan is kicked from his seat by + Rávan, and then, after telling his mother what has happened, he + flies to Mount Kailása where he has an interview with Siva, and by + his advice seeks Ráma and the Vánar army. + + 928 Vrihaspati the preceptor of the Gods. + + 929 In Book II, Canto XXI, Kandu is mentioned by Ráma as an example of + filial obedience. At the command of his father he is said to have + killed a cow. + + 930 A King of the Yakshas, or Kuvera himself, the God of Gold. + + 931 The brace protects the left arm from injury from the bow-string, and + the guard protects the fingers of the right hand. + + 932 The story is told in Book I, Cantos XL, XLI, XLII. + + 933 Fiends and enemies of the Gods. + + 934 The Indus. + + 935 Cowherds, sprung from a Bráhman and a woman of the medical tribe, + the modern Ahírs. + + 936 Barbarians or outcasts. + +_ 937 Vrana_ means wound or rent. + + 938 Here in the Bengal recension (Gorresio's edition), begins Book VI. + + 939 The Goomtee. + + 940 The Anglicized Nerbudda. + + 941 According to a Pauranik legend Kesarí Hanumán's putative father had + killed an Asur or demon who appeared in the form of an elephant, and + hence arose the hostility between Vánars and elephants. + + 942 Here follows the enumeration of Sugríva's forces which I do not + attempt to follow. It soon reaches a hundred thousand billions. + + 943 I omit the rest of this canto, which is mere repetition. Rávan gives + in the same words his former answer that the Gods, Gandharvas and + fiends combined shall not force him to give up Sítá. He then orders + Sárdúla to tell him the names of the Vánar chieftains whom he has + seen in Ráma's army. These have already been mentioned by Suka and + Sáran. + + 944 Lakshmí is the Goddess both of beauty and fortune, and is + represented with a lotus in her hand. + + 945 The poet appears to have forgotten that Suka and Sáran were + dismissed with ignominy in Canto XXIX, and have not been reinstated. + + 946 The four who fled with him. Their names are Anala, Panasa, Sampáti, + and Pramati. + + 947 The numbers here are comparatively moderate: ten thousand elephants, + ten thousand chariots, twenty thousand horses and ten million + giants. + + 948 The Kinsuk, also called Palása, is Butea Frondosa, a tree that bears + beautiful red crescent shaped blossoms and is deservedly a favorite + with poets. The Seemal or Sálmalí is the silk cotton tree which also + bears red blossoms. + + 949 Varuna. + + 950 The duty of a king to save the lives of his people and avoid + bloodshed until milder methods have been tried in vain. + + 951 I have omitted several of these single combats, as there is little + variety in the details and each duel results in the victory of the + Vánar or his ally. + + 952 Yajnasatru, Mahápársva, Mahodar, Vajradanshtra, Suka, and Sáran. + + 953 Angad. + + 954 A mysterious weapon consisting of serpents transformed to arrows + which deprived the wounded object of all sense and power of motion. + + 955 On each foot, and at the root of each finger. + + 956 Varun. + + 957 The name of one of the mystical weapons the command over which was + given by Visvámitra to Ráma, as related in Book I. + + 958 One of Sítá's guard, and her comforter on a former occasion also. + + 959 The preceptor of the Gods. + + 960 Ráma's grandfather. + + 961 The Gandharvas are warriors and Minstrels of Indra's heaven. + + 962 "It is to be understood," says the commentator, "that this is not + the Akampan who has already been slain." + + 963 Rávan's son, whom Hanumán killed when he first visited Lanká. + + 964 Níla was the son of Agni the God of Fire, and possessed, like + Milton's demons, the power of dilating and condensing his form at + pleasure. + + 965 An ancient king of Ayodhyá said by some to have been Prithu's + father. + + 966 The daughter of King Kusadhwaja. She became an ascetic, and being + insulted by Rávan in the woods where she was performing penance, + destroyed herself by entering fire, but was born again as Sítá to be + in turn the destruction of him who had insulted her. + + 967 Nandísvara was Siva's chief attendant. Rávan had despised and + laughed at him for appearing in the form of a monkey and the + irritated Nandísvara cursed him and foretold his destruction by + monkeys. + + 968 Rávan once upheaved and shook Mount Kailása the favourite dwelling + place of Siva the consort of Umá, and was cursed in consequence by + the offended Goddess. + + 969 Rambhá, who has several times been mentioned in the course of the + poem, was one of the nymphs of heaven, and had been insulted by + Rávan. + + 970 Punjikasthalá was the daughter of Varun. Rávan himself has mentioned + in this book his insult to her, and the curse pronounced in + consequence by Brahmá. + + 971 Pulastya was the son of Brahmá and father of Visravas or Paulastya + the father of Rávan and Kumbhakarna. + + 972 I omit a tedious sermon on the danger of rashness and the advantages + of prudence, sufficient to irritate a less passionate hearer than + Rávan. + + 973 The Bengal recension assigns a very different speech to Kumbhakarna + and makes him say that Nárad the messenger of the Gods had formerly + told him that Vishnu himself incarnate as Dasaratha's son should + come to destroy Rávan. + + 974 Mahodar, Dwijihva, Sanhráda, and Vitardan. + + 975 A name of Vishnu. + + 976 There is so much commonplace repetition in these Sallies of the + Rákshas chieftains that omissions are frequently necessary. The + usual ill omens attend the sally of Kumbhakarna, and the Canto ends + with a description of the terrified Vánars' flight which is briefly + repeated in different words at the beginning of the next Canto. + + 977 Kártikeya the God of War, and the hero and incarnation Parasuráma + are said to have cut a passage through the mountain Krauncha, a part + of the Himálayan range, in the same way as the immense gorge that + splits the Pyrenees under the towers of Marboré was cloven at one + blow of Roland's sword Durandal. + + 978 Rishabh, Sarabh, Níla, Gaváksha, and Gandhamádan. + + 979 Angad. The text calls him the son of the son of him who holds the + thunderbolt, _i.e._ the grandson of Indra. + + 980 Literally, weighing a thousand _bháras_. The _bhára_ is a weight + equal to 2000 _palas_, the _pala_ is equal to four _karsas_, and the + _karsa_ to 11375 French grammes or about 176 grains troy. The spear + seems very light for a warrior of Kumbhakarna's strength and stature + and the work performed with it. + + 981 The custom of throwing parched or roasted grain, with wreaths and + flowers, on the heads of kings and conquerors when they go forth to + battle and return is frequently mentioned by Indian poets. + + 982 Lakshman. + + 983 I have abridged this long Canto by omitting some vain repetitions, + commonplace epithets and similes and other unimportant matter. There + are many verses in this Canto which European scholars would rigidly + exclude as unmistakeably the work of later rhapsodists. Even the + reverent Commentator whom I follow ventures to remark once or twice: + _Ayam sloka prak shipta iti bahavah_, "This _sloka_ or verse is in + the opinion of many interpolated." + + 984 Narak was a demon, son of Bhúmi or Earth, who haunted the city + Prágjyotisha. + + 985 Sambar was a demon of drought. + + 986 Indra. + + 987 Devántak (Slayer of Gods) Narántak (Slayer of Men) Atikáya (Huge of + Frame) and Trisirás (Three Headed) were all sons of Rávan. + + 988 The demon of eclipse who seizes the Sun and Moon. + + 989 Lakshman. + + 990 In such cases as this I am not careful to reproduce the numbers of + the poet, which in the text which I follow are 670000000; the Bengal + recension being content with thirty million less. + + 991 The discus or quoit, a sharp-edged circular missile is the favourite + weapon of Vishnu. + + 992 To destroy Tripura the triple city in the sky, air and earth, built + by Maya for a celebrated Asur or demon, or as another commentator + explains, to destroy Kandarpa or Love. + + 993 The Lokapálas are sometimes regarded as deities appointed by Brahmá + at the creation of the word to act as guardians of different orders + of beings, but more commonly they are identified with the deities + presiding over the four cardinal and four intermediate points of the + compass, which, according to Manu V. 96, are 1, Indra, guardian of + the East; 2, Agni, of the South-east; 3, Yáma, of the South; 4, + Súrya, of the South-west; 5, Varuna, of the West; 6, Pavana or Váyu, + of the North-west; 7, Kuvera, of the North; 8, Soma or Chandra, of + the North-east. + + 994 The chariots of Rávan's present army are said to have been one + hundred and fifty million in number with three hundred million + elephants, and twelve hundred million horses and asses. The footmen + are merely said to have been "unnumbered." + + 995 It is not very easy to see the advantage of having arrows headed in + the way mentioned. Fanciful names for war-engines and weapons + derived from their resemblance to various animals are not confined + to India. The "War-wolf" was used by Edward I. at the siege of + Brechin, the "Cat-house" and the "Sow" were used by Edward III. at + the siege of Dunbar. + + 996 Apparently a peak of the Himalaya chain. + + 997 This exploit of Hanumán is related with inordinate prolixity in the + Bengal recension (Gortesio's text). Among other adventures he + narrowly escapes being shot by Bharat as he passes over Nandigrama + near Ayodhyá. Hanumán stays Bharat in time, and gives him an account + of what has befallen Ráma and Sítá in the forest and in Lanká. + + 998 As Garud the king of birds is the mortal enemy of serpents the + weapon sacred to him is of course best calculated to destroy the + serpent arrows of Rávan. + + 999 The celebrated saint who has on former occasions assisted Ráma with + his gifts and counsel. + + 1000 Indra. + + 1001 Yáma. + + 1002 Kártikeya. + + 1003 Kubera. + + 1004 Varun. + + 1005 The Pitris, forefathers or spirits of the dead, are of two kinds, + either the spirits of the father, grandfathers and + great-grandfathers of an individual or the progenitors of mankind + generally, to both of whom obsequial worship is paid and oblations + of food are presented. + + 1006 The Maruts or Storm-Gods. + + 1007 The Heavenly Twins, the Castor and Pollux of the Hindus. + + 1008 The Man _par excellence_, the representative man and father of the + human race regarded also as God. + + 1009 The Vasus, a class of deities originally personifications of natural + phenomena. + + 1010 A class of celestial beings who dwell between the earth and the sun. + + 1011 The seven horses are supposed to symbolize the seven days of the + week. + + 1012 One for each month in the year. + + 1013 The garden of Kuvera, the God of Riches. + + 1014 The consort of Indra. + + 1015 The Swayamvara, Self-choice or election of a husband by a princess + or daughter of a Kshatriya at a public assembly of suitors held for + the purpose. For a description of the ceremony see _Nala and + Damayantí_ an episode of the Mahábhárat translated by the late Dean + Milman, and _Idylls from the Sanskrit_. + + 1016 The Pitris or Manes, the spirits of the dead. + + 1017 Kuvera, the God of Wealth. + + 1018 Varun, God of the sea. + + 1019 Mahádeva or Siva whose ensign is a bull. + + 1020 The Address to Ráma, both text and commentary, will be found + literally translated in the Additional Notes. A paraphrase of a + portion is all that I have attempted here. + + 1021 Rávan's queen. + + 1022 Or Maináka. + + 1023 Here, in the North-west recension, Sítá expresses a wish that Tárá + and the wives of the Vánar chiefs should be invited to accompany her + to Ayodhyá. The car decends, and the Vánar matrons are added to the + party. The Bengal recension ignores this palpable interruption. + + 1024 The _arghya_, a respectful offering to Gods and venerable men + consisting of rice, dúivá grass, flowers etc., with water. + + 1025 I have abridged Hanumán's outline of Ráma's adventures, with the + details of which we are already sufficiently acquainted. + + 1026 In these respectful salutations the person who salutes his superior + mentions his own name even when it is well known to the person whom + he salutes. + + 1027 I have omitted the chieftains' names as they could not be introduced + without padding. They are Mainda, Dwivid, Níla, Rishabh, Sushen, + Nala, Gaváksha, Gandhamádan, Sarabh, and Panas. + + 1028 The following addition is found in the Bengal recension: But + Vaisravan (Kuvera) when he beheld his chariot said unto it: "Go, and + carry Ráma, and come unto me when my thought shall call thee, And + the chariot returned unto Ráma;" and he honoured it when he had + heard what had passed. + + 1029 Here follows in the original an enumeration of the chief blessings + which will attend the man or woman who reads or hears read this tale + of Ráma. These blessings are briefly mentioned at the end of the + first Canto of the first book, and it appears unnecessary to repeat + them here in their amplified form. The Bengal recension (Gorresio's + edition) gives them more concisely as follows: "This is the great + first poem blessed and glorious, which gives long life to men and + victory to kings, the poem which Válmíki made. He who listens to + this wondrous tale of Ráma unwearied in action shall be absolved + from all his sins. By listening to the deeds of Ráma he who wishes + for sons shall obtain his heart's desire, and to him who longs for + riches shall riches be given. The virgin who asks for a husband + shall obtain a husband suited to her mind, and shall meet again her + dear kinsfolk who are far away. They who hear this poem which + Válmíki made shall obtain all their desires and all their prayers + shall be fulfilled." + +_ 1030 The Academy_, Vol. III., No 43, contains an able and interesting + notice of this work from the pen of the Professor of Sanskrit in the + University of Cambridge: "The _Uttarakánda_," Mr. Cowell remarks, + "bears the same relation to the _Rámáyana_ as the Cyclic poems to + the _Iliad_. Just as the _Cypria_ of Stasinus, the _Æthiopis_ of + Arctinus, and the little _Iliad_ of Lesches completed the story of + the _Iliad_, and not only added the series of events which preceded + and followed it, but also founded episodes of their own on isolated + allusions in Homer, so the _Uttarakánda_ is intended to complete the + _Rámáyana_, and at the same time to supplement it by intervening + episodes to explain casual allusions or isolated incidents which + occur in it. Thus the early history of the giant Rávana and his + family fills nearly forty Chapters, and we have a full account of + his wars with the gods and his conquest of Lanká, which all happened + long before the action of the poem commences, just as the _Cypria_ + narrated the birth and early history of Helen, and the two + expeditions of the Greeks against Troy; and the latter chapters + continue the history of the hero Ráma after his triumphant return to + his paternal kingdom, and the poem closes with his death and that of + his brothers, and the founding by their descendants of various + kingdoms in different parts of India." + + 1031 MUIR, _Sanskrit Texts,_ Part IV., pp. 414 ff. + + 1032 MUIR, _Sanskrit Texts_, Part IV., 391, 392. + + 1033 See _Academy_, III., 43. + +_ 1034 Academy_, Vol. III., No. 43. + + 1035 E. B. Cowell. _Academy_, No. 43. The story of Sítá's banishment will + be found roughly translated from the _Raghuvansa_, in the Additional + Notes. + + 1036 E. B. Cowell. _Academy_, Vol, III, No. 43. + + 1037 MUIR, _Sanskrit Texts_, Part IV., Appendix. + + 1038 Ghí: clarified butter. Gur: molasses. + + 1039 Haridwar (Anglicè Hurdwar) where the Ganges enters the plain + country. + + 1040 Campbell in "Journ. As. Soc. Bengal," 1866, Part ii. p. 132; Latham, + "Descr. Eth." Vol. ii. p. 456; Tod, "Annals of Rajasthan," Vol. i. + p. 114. + + 1041 Said by the commentator to be an eastern people between the + Himálayan and Vindhyan chains. + + 1042 Videha was a district in the province of Behar, the ancient Mithilá + or the modern Tirhoot. + + 1043 The people of Malwa. + + 1044 "The Kásikosalas are a central nation in the Váyu Purána. The + Rámáyana places them in the east. The combination indicates the + country between Benares and Oude.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Kosala is a name variously + applied. Its earliest and most celebrated application is to the + country on the banks of the Sarayú, the kingdom of Ráma, of which + Ayodhyá was the capital.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} In the Mahábhárata we have one Kosala in + the east and another in the south, besides the Prák-Kosalas and + Uttara Kosalas in the east and north. The Puránas place the Kosalas + amongst the people on the back of Vindhya; and it would appear from + the Váyu that Kusa the son of Ráma transferred his kingdom to a more + central position; he ruled over Kosala at his capital of Kúsasthali + of Kusavatí, built upon the Vindhyan precipices." WILSON'S _Vishnnu + Púrana_, Vol. II. pp. 157, 172. + + 1045 The people of south Behar. + + 1046 The Pundras are said to be the inhabitants of the western provinces + of Bengal. "In the _Aitareyabráhmana_, VII. 18, it is said that the + elder sons of Visvamitra were cursed to become progenitors of most + abject races, such as Andhras, Pundras, Sabaras, Pulindas, and + Mútibas." WILSON'S _Vishnu Purána_ Vol. II. 170. + + 1047 Anga is the country about Bhagulpore, of which Champá was the + capital. + + 1048 A fabulous people, "men who use their ears as a covering." So Sir + John Maundevile says: "And in another Yle ben folk that han gret + Eres and long, that hangen down to here knees," and Pliny, lib. iv. + c. 13: "In quibus nuda alioquin corpora prægrandes ipsorum aures + tota contegunt." Isidore calls them Panotii. + + 1049 "Those whose ears hang down to their lips." + + 1050 "The Iron-faces." + + 1051 "The One-footed." + + "In that Contree," says Sir John Maundevile, "ben folk, that han but + o foot and thei gon so fast that it is marvaylle: and the foot is so + large that it schadeweth alle the Body azen the Sonne, when thei + wole lye and rest hem." So Pliny, Natural History, lib. vii. c. 2: + speaks of "Hominumn gens {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} singulis cruribus, miræ pernicitatis ad + saltum; eosdemque Sciopodas vocari, quod in majori æstu, humi + jacentes resupini, umbrâ se pedum protegant." + + These epithets are, as Professor Wilson remarks, "exaggerations of + national ugliness, or allusions to peculiar customs, which were not + literally intended, although they may have furnished the Mandevilles + of ancient and modern times." + + _Vishnu Purána_, Vol. II. p. 162. + + 1052 The Kirrhadæ of Arrian: a general name for savage tribes living in + woods and mountains. + + 1053 Said by the commentator to be half tigers half men. + + 1054 The kingdom seems to have corresponded with the greater part of + Berar and Khandesh. + + 1055 The Bengal recension has Kishikas, and places them both in the south + and the north. + + 1056 The people of Mysore. + + 1057 "There are two Matsyas, one of which, according to the Yantra + Samráj, is identifiable with Jeypoor. In the Digvijaya of Nakula he + subdues the Matsyas further to the west, or Gujerat." WILSON'S + _Vishnu Purána_, Vol. II. 158. Dr. Hall observes: "In the + _Mahábhárata Sabhá-parwan_, 1105 and 1108, notice is taken of the + king of Matsya and of the Aparamatsyas; and, at 1082, the Matsyas + figure as an eastern people. They are placed among the nations of + the south in the _Rámáyana Kishkindhá-kánda_, XLI., II, while the + Bengal recension, _Kishkindhá-kánda_, XLIV., 12, locates them in the + north." + + 1058 The Kalingas were the people of the upper part of the Coromandel + Coast, well known, in the traditions of the Eastern Archipelago, as + Kling. Ptolemy has a city in that part, called Caliga; and Pliny + Calingæ proximi mari. WILSON'S _Vishnu Purána_, Vol. II. 156, Note. + + 1059 The Kausikas do not appear to be identifiable. + + 1060 The Andhras probably occupied the modern Telingana. + + 1061 The Pundras have already been mentioned in Canto XL. + + 1062 The inhabitants of the lower part of the Coromandel Coast; so + called, after them, Cholamandala. + + 1063 A people in the Deccan. + + 1064 The Keralas were the people of Malabar proper. + + 1065 A generic term for persons speaking any language but Sanskrit and + not conforming to the usual Hindu institutions. + + 1066 "Pulinda is applied to any wild or barbarous tribe. Those here named + are some of the people of the deserts along the Indus; but Pulindas + are met with in many other positions, especially in the mountains + and forests across Central India, the haunts of the Bheels and + Gonds. So Ptolemy places the Pulindas along the banks of the + Narmadá, to the frontiers of Larice, the Látá or Lár of the + Hindus,--Khandesh and part of Gujerat." WILSON'S _Vishnu Purána_, + Vol. II. 159, Note. + + Dr. Hall observes that "in the Bengal recension of the _Rámáyana_ + the Pulindas appear both in the south and in the north. The real + _Rámáyana_ K.-k., XLIII., speaks of the northern Pulindas." + + 1067 The Súrasenas were the inhabitants of Mathurá, the Suraseni of + Arrian. + + 1068 These the Mardi of the Greeks and the two preceding tribes appear to + have dwelt in the north-west of Hindustan. + + 1069 The Kámbojas are said to be the people of Arachosia. They are always + mentioned with the north-western tribes. + + 1070 "The term Yavanas, although, in later times, applied to the + Mohammedans, designated formerly the Greeks.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} The Greeks were known + throughout Western Asia by the term Yavan, or Ion. That the + Macedonian or Bactrian Greeks were most usually intended is not only + probable from their position and relations with India, but from + their being usually named in concurrence with the north-western + tribes, Kámbojas, Daradas, Páradas, Báhlíkas, Sakas &c., in the + Rámáyana. Mahábhárata, Puránas, Manu, and in various poems and + plays." WILSON'S _Vishnu Purána_ Vol. II. p. 181, Note. + + 1071 These people, the Sakai and Sacæ of classical writers, the + Indo-Scythians of Ptolemy, extended, about the commencement of our + era, along the west of India, from the Hindu Kosh to the mouths of + the Indus. + + 1072 The corresponding passage in the Bengal recension has instead of + Varadas Daradas the Dards or inhabitants of the modern Dardistan + along the course of the Indus, above the Himálayas, just before it + descends to India. + + 1073 From the word yonder it would appear that the prayer is to be + repeated at the rising of the Sun. + + 1074 The creator of the world and the first of the Hindu triad. + + 1075 He who pervades all beings; or the second of the Hindu triad who + preserves the world. + + 1076 The bestower of blessings; the third of the Hindu triad and the + destroyer of the world. + + 1077 A name of the War-God; also one who urges the senses to action. + + 1078 The lord of creatures; or the God of sacrifices. + + 1079 A name of the King of Gods; also all-powerful. + + 1080 The giver of wealth. A name of the God of riches. + + 1081 One who directly urges the mental faculties to action. + + 1082 One who moderates the senses, also the God of the regions of the + dead. + + 1083 One who produces nectar (amrita) or one who is always possessed of + light; or one together with Umá (Ardhanárísvara). + + 1084 The names or spirits of departed ancestors. + + 1085 Name of a class of eight Gods, also wealthy. + + 1086 They who are to be served by Yogís; or a class of Gods named + Sádhyas. + + 1087 The two physicians of the Gods: or they who pervade all beings. + + 1088 They who are immortal; or a class of Gods forty-nine in number. + + 1089 Omniscient; or the first king of the world. + + 1090 He that moves; life; or the God of wind. + + 1091 The God of fire. + + 1092 Lord of creatures. + + 1093 One who prolongs our lives. + + 1094 The material cause of knowledge and of the seasons. + + 1095 One who shines. The giver of light. + + 1096 The hymn entitled the Ádityahridaya begins from this verse and the + words, thou art, are understood in the beginning of this verse. + + 1097 One who enjoys all (pleasurable) objects; The son of Aditi, the lord + of the solar disk. + + 1098 One who creates the world, i.e., endows beings with life or soul, + and by his rays causes rain and thereby produces corn. + + 1099 One who urges the world to action or puts the world in motion, who + is omnipresent. + + 1100 One who walks through the sky; or pervades the soul. + + 1101 One who nourishes the world, i.e., is the supporter. + + 1102 One having rays (Gabhasti) or he who is possessed of the + all-pervading goddess Lakshmí. + + 1103 One resembling gold. + + 1104 One who is resplendent or who gives light to other objects. + + 1105 One whose seed (Retas) is gold; or quicksilver, the material cause + of gold. + + 1106 One who is the cause of day. + + 1107 One whose horses are of tawny colour; or one who pervades the whole + space or quarters. + + 1108 One whose knowledge is boundless or who has a thousand rays. + + 1109 One who urges the seven (Pránas) that is the two eyes, the two ears, + the nostrils and the organ of speech, or whose chariot, is drawn by + seven horses. + + 1110 Vide Gabhastimán. + + 1111 One who destroys darkness, or ignorance. + + 1112 One from whom our blessings or the enjoyments of Paradise come. + + 1113 The architect of the gods; or one who lessens the miseries of our + birth and death. + + 1114 One who gives life to the lifeless world. + + 1115 One who pervades the internal and external worlds; or one who is + resplendent. + + 1116 He who is identified with the Hindu triad, i.e. the creator (Brahmá) + the supporter (Vishnu) and the destroyer (Siva). + + 1117 Cold or good natured. He is so called because he allays the three + sorts of pain. + + 1118 One who is the lord of all. + + 1119 Vide Divákara. + + 1120 One who teaches Brahmá and others the Vedas. + + 1121 One from whom Rudra the destroyer or the third of the Hindu triad + springs. + + 1122 One who is knowable through Aditi, i.e., the eternal Brahmavidyá. + + 1123 Great happiness or the sky. + + 1124 The destroyer of cold or stupidity. + + 1125 The Lord of the sky. + + 1126 Vide Timironmathana. + + 1127 One who is known through the Upanishads. + + 1128 He who is the cause of heavy rain. + + 1129 He who is a friend to the good, or who is the cause of water. + + 1130 One who moves in the solar orbit. + + 1131 One who determines the creation of the world; or who is possessed of + heat. + + 1132 One who has a mass of rays; or who has Kaustubha and other precious + stones as his ornaments. + + 1133 He who urges all to action; or who is yellow in colour. + + 1134 One who is the destroyer of all. + + 1135 One who is omniscient; or a poet. + + 1136 One who is identified with the whole world. + + 1137 One who is of huge form. + + 1138 One who pleases all by giving nourishment; or who is red in colour. + + 1139 One who is the cause of the whole world. + + 1140 One who protects the whole world. + + 1141 The most glorious of all that are glorious. + + 1142 One who is identical with the twelve months. + + 1143 One who gives victory over all the worlds to those who are + faithfully devoted to him; or the porter of Brahmá, named Jaya. + + 1144 One who is identical with the blessing which can be obtained by + conquering all the worlds; or with the porter of Brahmá named + Jayabhadra. + + 1145 One who has Hanúmán as his conveyance. + + 1146 One who controls the senses; or is furious with those who are not + his devotees. + + 1147 He who is free in moving the senses; or urges all beings to action. + + 1148 He who can be known through the Pranava (the mystical Om-kára.) + + 1149 One who is the knowledge of Brahmá. + + 1150 One who devours all things. + + 1151 He who is the destroyer of all pains; and of love, and hate, the + causes of pain; and ignorance which is the cause of love and hate. + + 1152 One who is bliss; or the mover. + + 1153 One who destroys ignorance and its effects. + + 1154 The doer of all actions. + + 1155 One who beholds the universe; who is a witness of good and bad + actions. + + 1156 Sacrifice of the five sensual fires. + + 1157 According to Ápastamba (says the commentator) "it should have been + placed on the nose: this must therefore have been done in conformity + with some other Sútras." + + 1158 A class of eight gods. + + 1159 A class of eleven gods called Rudras. + + 1160 Named Víryaván. + + 1161 A class of divine devotees named Sádhyas. + + 1162 One who resides in the water. + + 1163 The third incarnation of Vishnu, that bore the earth on his tusk. + + 1164 One whose armies are everywhere. + + 1165 One who controls the senses. + + 1166 He who resides in the heart, or who is full, or all-pervading. + + 1167 Vámana, or the Dwarf incarnation of Vishnu. + + 1168 The killer of Madhu, a demon. + + 1169 He from whose navel, the lotus, from which Brahmá was born, springs. + + 1170 He who has a thousand horns. The horns are here the Sákhás of the + Sáma-veda. + + 1171 One who has a hundred heads. The heads are here meant to devote a + hundred commandments of the Vedas. + + 1172 Siddhas are those who have already gained the summit of their + desires. + + 1173 Sádhyas are those that are still trying to gain the summit. + + 1174 A mystic syllable uttered in Mantras. + + 1175 A mystic syllable made of the letters which respectively denote + Brahmá, Vishnu, and Siva. + + 1176 A class of divine gods. + + 1177 Sanskáras are those sacred writings through which the divine + commands and prohibitions are known. + + 1178 Bali, a demon whom Vámana confined in Pátála. + + 1179 Vishnu, the second of the Hindu triad. + + 1180 Krishna, (black coloured) one of the ten incarnations of Vishnu. + + 1181 A. Weber, _Akademische Vorlesungen_, p. 181. + + 1182 Systema brahmanicum, liturgicum, mythologicum, civile, exmonumentis + Indicis, etc. + + 1183 Not only have the races of India translated or epitomized it, but + foreign nations have appropriated it wholly or in part, Persia, + Java, and Japan itself. + + 1184 In the third century B.C. + + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RAMAYANA*** + + + +CREDITS + + +March 18, 2008 + + Project Gutenberg TEI edition 1 + Produced by Juliet Sutherland, John Bruno Hare, David King, + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at + <http://www.pgdp.net/>. 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