Sri Valmiki Ramayanam - English Verses by Ralph T H Griffith Book 1- Part 4

RÁMÁYAN OF VÁLMÍKI

Translated into English Verse

BY

RALPH T. H. GRIFFITH, M. A.,

[(Ralph Thomas Hotchkin Griffith), b. 1826 d. 1906]

PRINCIPAL OF THE BENARES COLLEGE

 

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.

Footnotes

61:1 Kumarila 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

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,
p. 62
Far from the crowd, sequestered, clear,
With copious water flowing near.
Then Janak, best of kings, aware
Of Vis'vámitra lodging there,
With S'atánanda 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 Kus'ik'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 As'vins 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.' 1
Thus spoke the monarch, lofty-souled.
The saint, of heart unfathomed, told
How, sons of Das'aratha, 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 Vis'álá'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 Vis'vámitra spoke the whole
To royal Janak, great of soul.
And when this wondrous tale was o'er,
The glorious hermit said no more.

Footnotes

62:1 The preceding sixteen lines have occured 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.

CANTO LI.: VIS'VÁMITRA.

Wise Vis'vámitra's tale was done:
Then sainted Gautam's eldest son,
Great S'atánanda, far-renowned,
Whom long austerities had crowned
With glory--as the news he heard
The down upon his bodv stirred,--
Filled full of wonder at the sight
Of Ráma, felt supreme delight.
When S'atánanda 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?
p. 63
And, son of Kus'ik, 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 ot 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 S'atánanda 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 Kus'a, king of earth.
His son was Kus'anábha, 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 Vis'vámitra, 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 Vas'ishtha'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  1 went and came,
Now breathed the prayer, now fed the flame:
These, and ascetic bands beside,
The sweet retirement beautified.
Such was Vas'ishtha's blest retreat,
Like Brahmá's own celestial seat,
Which gladdened Vis'vamitra's eyes,
Peerless for warlike enterprise.

CANTO LII.: VAS'ISHTHA'S FEAST.

Right glad was Vis'vámitra 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 Vis'vámitra, noblest king,
Received Vas'ishtha's welcoming,
Turned to his host, and prayed him tell
That he and all with him were well.
Vas'ishtha 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.
p. 64
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 Vis'vamitra, 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 Vis'vámitra 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 Vas'ishtha 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 cute, each goodly dish,
Of six-fold taste 1 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.'

Footnotes

63:1 Divine personages of minute size produced from the hair of Brahmá, and probably the origin of

            'That small infantry
   Warred on by cranes.'

64:1 Sweet, salt, pungent, bitter, acid, and astringent.

CANTO LIII.: VIS'VÀMITRA'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,
And 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 Vas'ishtha's feast.
Then Vis'vámitra, royal sage,
Surrounded by his vassalage,
Prince, peer, and counsellor, and all
From highest lord to lowest thrall,
Thus feasted, to Vas'ishtha cried
With joy, supremely gratified:
'Richh 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. 1b
To me her rightful lord resign
This Dapple-skin thou callest thine.'
The great Vas'ishtha, thus addressed,
Arch-hermit of the holy breast,
To Vis'vamitra 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.
p. 65
The feeding of the sacred flame, 1
The dole which living creatures claim. 2
The mighty sacrifice by fire,
Each formula the rites require, 3
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 Vas'ishtha, 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.'

Footnotes

64:1b '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.
65:1 Ghí or clarified butter, 'holy oil,' being one of the essentials of sacrifice.
65:2 A Brahman 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.
65:3 These were certain sacred words of invocation such a sváhá, vashat, etc., pronounced at the time of sacrifice.

CANTO LIV.: THE BATTLE.

As Saint Vas'ishtha 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.
Vas'ishtha, 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 Vas'ishtha 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,'
p. 66
He spoke. Then she, in lowly mood,
To that high saint her speech renewed:
'So judge not they who wisest are:
The Brahman's might is mightier far.
For Brahmans 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, 1 burning for the strife,
King Vis'vámitra'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 S'akas, fierce and dire.
And all the ground was overspread
With Yavans and with S'akas 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 'gainst 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, 1b Barbars, 2b all,
With Yavans, troubled, flee and fall.

Footnotes

66:1 It is well known that the Persians were called Pahlavas by the Indians. The S'akas are nomad tribes inhabiting Central Asia, the Scythes of the Greeks, whom the Persians also, as Herodotus tells us, called S'akas just as the Indians did. Lib. VII 64 οἱ γὰρ Πέρσαι πάντας τοὺς Σκύθας, καλέουσι Σάκας. The name Yavana seems to be used rather indefinitely for nations situated beyond Persia to the west.... 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 Πάκτυες of Herodotus, and that this non-Indian people, dwelt on the north-west confines of India.

CANTO LV.: THE HERMITAGE BURNT.

So o'er the field that host lay strewn,
By Vis'vámitra's darts o'erthrown.
Then thus Vas'ishtha 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 S'akas from her hinder parts.
And every pore upon her fell,
And every hair-producing cell,
With Mlechchhas 3b and Kirátas 4b teemed,
And forth with them Hárítas streamed.
And Vis'vámitra'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:
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.}
p. 67
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 1 grace to earn,
He gave his life to penance stern.
A lengthened season thus passed by,
When S'iva's self, the Lord most High,
Whose banner shows the pictured bull, 2
Appeared, the God most bountiful:
'Why fervent thus in toil and pain?
Wliat 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
Vas'ishtha 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 Vis'vámitra cast,
To every side they turned and fled
In hundreds forth disquieted.
Vas'ishtha'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 Vas'ishtha's holy shade
A solitary wild was made,
Silent awhile, for not a sound
Disturbed the hush that was around.
Vas'ishtha 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.'

Footnotes

66:1b See page 13, note 6.
66:2b Barbarians, non-Sanskrit-speaking tribes.
66:3b A comprehensive term for foreign or outcast races of different faith and language from the Hindus.
66:4b 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
67:1 The Great God, S'iva.
67:2 Nandi, the snow-white bull, the attendant and favourite vehicle of Siva.

CANTO LVI.: VIS'VÁMITRA'S VOW.

But Vis'vámitra, at the threat
Of that illustrious anchoret,
Cried, as he launched with ready hand
A fiery weapon, 'Stand, O Stand!'
Vas'ishtha, wild with rage and hate,
Raising, as 'twere the Rod of Fate,
His mighty Bráhman wand on high,
To Vis'vámitra 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:
p. 68
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: 1
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 be 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 Vis'vámitra, 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.'

Footnotes

68:1 '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.

CANTO LVII.: TRIS'ANKU.

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, Kus'ik'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 Vis'vámitra 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.
p. 69
Then reigned a monarch, true of soul,
Who kept each sense in firm control;
Of old Ikshváku's line he came,
That glories in Tris'anku's 1 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 Vas'ishtha's aid he sought,
And told him of his secret thought.
But wise Vas'ishtha showed the hope
Was far beyond the monarch's scope.
Tris'anku then, his suit denied,
Far to the southern region hied,
To beg Vas'ishtha's sons to aid
The mighty plan his soul had made.
There King Tris'anku, far renowned,
Vas'ishtha'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 Vas'ishtna 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 rny 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!'

Footnotes

69:1 'Tris'anku, king of Ayodhyá, was seventh in descent from Ikshváku. and Das'aratha holds the thirty-fourth place in the same genealogv. See Canto LXX. We are thrown back, therefore, to very ancient times, and it occasions some surprise to find Vas'ishtha and Vis'vámitra, actors in these occurences, still alive in Ráma's time.'

CANTO LVIII.: TRIS'ANKU CURSED.

Tris'anku'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? 1b
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!'
Vas'ishtha's children heard, and guessed
His evil purpose scarce expressed,
And cried, while rage their bosoms burned,
'Be to a vile Chandála 2b turned!'
p. 70
This said, with lofty thoughts inspired,
Each to his own retreat retired.
That night Tris'anku 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 Vis'vámitra's side he sought,
Whose treasures were by penance bought.
The hermit with his tender eyes
Looked on Tris'anku'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's  1 shape, the king
Heard Vis'vámitra'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,
Plan'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.'

Footnotes

69:1b "It does not appear how Tris'anku, in asking the aid of Vas'ishtha's sons after applying in vain to their father, could be charged with resorting to another s'ákhá (School) in the ordinary sense of that word; as it is not conceivable that the sons should have been of another S'ákhá from the father, whose cause they espouse with so much warmth. The commentator in the Bombay edition explains the word S'ákhántaram 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 s'ákásv ichhasi lambitum*?. 'Why, forsaking the root, dost thou desire to hang upon the branches?'" MUIR, Sanskrit Texts, Vol. I., p. 401.
69:2b A Chandála was a man born of the illegal and impure union of a S'údra with a woman of one of the three higher castes.
70:1 The Chandála was regarded as the vilest and most abject of the men sprung from wedlock forbidden by the law (Mánavadharmas'ástra, Lib. X. 12.); a kind of social malediction weighed upon his head and rejected him from human society.' GORRESIO.

CANTO LIX.: THE SONS OF VAS'ISHTHA.

Then Kus'ik'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 Kus'ik'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 Vas'ishtha'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  1b refused alone.
p. 71
And now, O Chief of hermits, hear
What answer, chilling us with fear,
Vas'ishtha'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 Vis'vámitra 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 Yama'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 Vis'vámitra spoke--and ceased.

Footnotes

70:1b This appellation, occuring nowhere else in the poem except as the name of a city, appears twice in this Canto as a name of Vas'ishtha.

CANTO LX.: TRIS'ANKU'S ASCENSION.

So with ascetic might, in ire,
He smote the children and the sire.
Then Vis'vámitra, far-renowned,
Addressed the saints who gathered round:
'See by my side Tris'anku 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 Vis'vámitra, wise and great.
Spoke each to each in brief debate:
'The breast of Kus'ik'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 Vis'vámitra 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 Vis'vámitra 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, Tris'anku, 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,
Tris'anku fell from fancied rest,
And screaming in his swift descent,
'O, save me, Hermit?' down he went.
And Vis'vámitra heard his cry,
And marked him falling from the sky,
And giving all his passion sway,
Cried out in fury, 'Stay, O stay!'
p. 72
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 Vis'vámitra 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 Kus'ik, 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
Tris'anku 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 Tris'anku shine;
And all thy stars shall ever fling
Their rays attendant on the king.' 1
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.

Footnotes

72:1 '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 Vis'vámitra, should be seven new southern stars, a sort of new Ursa. Von Schlegel thinks that this mythical fiction of new stars created by Vis'vámitra 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 Indra.' GORRESIO.

CANTO LXI: S'UNAHS'EPHA.

Then Vis'vámitra, 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: 1b
To other regions let us speed,
And ply our tasks from trouble freed.
Now turn we to the distant west.
To Pushkar's  2b 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.
p. 73
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 Richika 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 Ambarisha, monarch dread:
'My lord, the saint, has spoken well:
His eldest child he will not sell.
And know, great Monarch, that above
Tht 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 reeked upon her breast:
My youngest I will ne'er forsake.'
As thus the sire and mother spake,
Young S'unahs'epha, 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. 1

Footnotes

72:1b 'This cannot refer to the events just related: for Vis'vámitra was successful in the sacrifice performed for Tris'anku. 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 Vis'vámitra 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.
72:2b 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 Πευκελἀίτις, the earliest place of pilgrimage mentioned by name, is not to be confounded with the modern Pushkara in Ajmere.
73:1 Ambarisha is the twenty-ninth in descent from Ikshváku, and is therefore separated by an immense space of time from Tris'anku in whose story Vis'vámitra 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 Vis'vámitra. 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....
So when Iphigenia was about to be sacrificed at Aulis, one legend tells us that a hind was substituted for the virgin.'                                             GORRESIO.

CANTO LXII.: AMBARESHA'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 S'unahs'epha rose,
And hasting to the water's side
His uncle Visvamitra 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 nave 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 Vísvámitra, glorious saint,
Had heard the boy's heart-rending plaint.
He soothed his grief, his tears he dried,
p. 74
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 Vas'ishtha'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 S'unahs'epha 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 Vis'vámitra 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 alter 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 Vis'vámitra, 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 Kus'ik saw
That peerless shape without a flaw
Flash through the flood's translucent shroud
Like lightning gleaning through a cloud.
He saw her in that lone retreat,
Most beautiful from head to feet,
And by Kandarpas 1 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 tne 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 Vis'vámitra woke to shame,
And, fraught with anguish, memory came
For quick he knew, with anger fired,
That all the Immortals had conspired
p. 75
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 Kaus'ikí, 1 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 Kus'ik'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 S'akra, 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.

Footnotes

74:1 The Indian Cupid.
75:1 'The same as she whose praises Vis'vámitra 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, Kaus'ikí was preserved by the river into which she is said to have been changed, and is still recognized in the corrupted forms Kus'a and Kus'i. 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.

CANTO LXIV.: RAMBHÁ.

'A great emprise, O lovely maid,
To save the Gods, awaits thine aid:
To bind the son of Kus'ik sure,
And take his soul with love's sweet lure.'
Thus orderd 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.
p. 76
Do thou thy beauteous splendour arm
With every grace and winsome charm,
And from his awful rites seduce
This Kus'ik'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 perceiv'd the wile.
And straight he knew the Thousand-eyed
A plot against his peace had tried.
Then Kus'ik'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 yearn, 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.: VIS'VÁMITRA'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.'
p. 77
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 Vas'ishtha, 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 Vas'ishtha, 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 Vis'vamitra, pious-souled,
Among the Bráhman saints enrolled,
On reverend Vas'ishtha 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 S'atánanda Kus'ik'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 Vis'vámitra, 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 hid 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 Das'aratha'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
p. 78
At Daksha's 1 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 Sitá from her secret birth.  2
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.  3
To Mithilá the suitors pressed
Their power and might to manifest.
To all who came with hearts aglow
I offered S'iva'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 Mithilá 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 Sitá, not of woman born.'

Footnotes

78:1 'Daksha was one of the ancient Progenitors or Prajápatis created by Brahmá. The sacrifice which is here spoken of and in which S'ankar or S'iva (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 S'iva, to its increase and to the struggle it maintained with other older forms of worship.' GORRESIO.
78:2 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.

78:3 '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.

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.
p. 79
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 Sitá 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 Das'aratha'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 Kus'ik'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 Vis'vámitra 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,
Sitá 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 Vis'vámitra's high consent.'
'Such words with friendship eloquent
Spoke Janak, fair Videha's king,
By S'atánanda's counselling.'
The envoys thus the king addressed,
And mighty joy his heart possessed.
To Vámadeva quick he cried,
Vas'ishtha, and his lords beside:
'Lakshman, and he, my princely hoy
Who fills Kaus'alyá's soul with joy,
By Vis'vámitra guarded well
Among the good Videhans dwell.
p. 80
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.: DAS'ARATHA'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.
Vas'ishtha, Vámadeva sage,
And Márkandeya's reverend age,
Jáváli, Kas'yap'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
Vas'ishtha, 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 Das'aratha, 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 Vis'vámitra 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 S'atánanda so:
'My brother, lord of glorious fame,
My younger, Kus'adhwaj 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,
p. 81
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.
Sánkás'yá'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 Mithilá he went.
He paid to Janak reverence due,
And holy S'atánanda 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 Mithilá 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 Vas'ishtha speaks for all.
If Vis'vámitra 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 Vas'ishtha, 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 Kas'yap 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 Tris'anku came.
He left a son renowned afar,
Known by the name of Dhundhumár.
His son, who drove the mighty car,
Was Yuvanás'va, 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 S'as'ivindus, 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,  1 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
p. 82
To render her conception vain,
And fruit unripened to destroy,
Sagar  1 she called her darling boy.
To Sagar Asamanj was heir:
Bright Ans'umán his consort bare.
Ans'umán's son, Dilipa 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.  2
From him came S'ankan, and from him
Sudars'an, fair in face and limb.
From beautiful Sudars'an came
Prince Agnivarna, bright as flame.
His son was S'íghraga, for speed
Unmatched; and Maru was his seed.
Pras'uœs'ruka 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 Das'aratha 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.'

Footnotes

81:1 A different lady from the Goddess of the Jumna who bears the same name.

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 Mahábir
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:
Haryas'va was his princely son.
Haryas'va'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 Hras'varomá, good and great,
Succeeded, and to him a pair
Of sons his royal consort bare,
Elder of these I boast to be:
Brave Kus'adhwaj is next to me.  1b
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 Kus'adhwaj, the peer
Of Gods, I ever held most dear.
Then came Sánkás'yá's mighty lord,
Sudhanvá, threatening siege and sword,
And bade me swift on him bestow
S'iva's incomparable bow,
p. 83
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 Sánkás'yá'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 1 House takes harbourage;
On the third night his rays benign
In second Phálguni 2 will shine:
Be that the day, with prosperous fate,
The nuptial rites to celebrate.'
 

Footnotes

82:1 This is another fanciful derivation, Sa--with, and gara--poison.
82:2 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 Vas'ishtha.
82:1b '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.

CANTO LXXII.: THE GIFT OF KINE.

When royal Janak's words were done,
Joined with Vas'ishtha Kus'ik'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 S'atrughna sue,
Both princes of heroic mould,
Wise, fair of form, and lofty-souled.
All Das'aratha'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:
Vas'ishtha'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 Das'aratha's house unites
In bonds of love and marriage rites.
So be it done. My nieces twain
Let Bharat and S'atrughna 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 Das'aratha 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 Das'aratha, answering:
'Boundless your virtues, lords, wbose 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 bundled 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.
p. 84

Footnotes

83:1 The tenth of the lunar asterisms, composed of five stars.
83:2 'There are two lunar asterisms of this name, one following the other immediately, forming the eleventh and twelfth of the lunar mansions.

CANTO LXXIII.

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 Das'aratha went,
Behind Vas'ishtha 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 Vas'ishtha 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 Vas'ishtha'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 he 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 Vas'ishtha 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 Vas'ishtha gave assent,
And quickly to the task he went.
With Vis'vámitra, nothing both,
And S'atánanda 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, Vas'ishtha 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 Kaus'alyá'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 S'atrughna: 'In thy grasp
The hand of S'rutakirti clasp.
Now, Raghu's sons, may all of you
Be gentle to your wives and true;
p. 85
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
Bound both the tire 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. 1

Soon as the night had reached its close
The hermit Vis'vámitra 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,
Bugs, 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 Vas'ishtha 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 Das'aratha'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 Das'aratha 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 S'iva's ever-conquering bow
And Tripurá in death laid low.
When his wild form, that struck with awe,
Fearful as ravening flame, they saw,
Vas'ishtha 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:
p. 86
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:

Footnotes

85:1 This is another Ráma, son of Jamadagni, called Paras'uráma, or Ráma with the axe, from the weapon which he carried. He was while he lived the terror ot the Warrior caste, and his name recalls long and fierce struggles between the sacerdotal and military order in which tne latter suffered severely at the hands of their implacable enemy.

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 Das'aratha 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 swearest to the Thousand-eyed
And thy fierce axe was cast aside.
Thou turnedst to thy rites away
Leaving the earth to Kaśyap's sway,
And wentest far a grove to seek
Beneath Mahendra's mountain peak. 1
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 1b 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
Bv some unerring proof to try
Were praise for might Lord Vishnu's due,
Or his whose Neck is stained with Blue. 2b
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 S'iva strove with Vishnu there.
But Vishnu raised his voice amain.
And S'iva'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 S'iva's bow has failed
Unnerved, when Vishnu's might assailed,
And Gods and heavenly sages thence
To Vishnu gave preeminence.
Then glorious S'iva 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 Richika 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.
p. 87
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 Kas'yap, 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.'

Footnotes

86:1 'The author of the Raghuvams'a 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.
86:1b S'iva
86:2b S'iva. God of the Azure Neck.

CANTO LXXVI.: DEBARRED FROM HEAVEN.

The haughty challenge, undeterred
The son of Das'aratha 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
Tbat 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 Kas'yap'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,
p. 88
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 Das'aratha 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 Kus'adhwaja'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 shall 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 S'atrughna 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 Das'aratha, 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 Kaus'alyá bore,
   With this bright dame allied,
Like Vishnu whom the Gods adore,
   With Lakshmi by his side.

End of Book -1

(My humble salutations to Sreeman Ralph T. H. Griffith for the collection)