{"id":704,"date":"2017-10-09T15:19:17","date_gmt":"2017-10-09T15:19:17","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-jeffersoncc-introliterature\/?post_type=chapter&p=704"},"modified":"2017-12-18T13:09:52","modified_gmt":"2017-12-18T13:09:52","slug":"valmiki-the-ramayana","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-jeffersoncc-introliterature\/chapter\/valmiki-the-ramayana\/","title":{"raw":"Valmiki, The Ramayana","rendered":"Valmiki, The Ramayana"},"content":{"raw":"
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\r\n\r\nInvocation.1<\/a><\/strong>\r\n\r\nPraise to V\u00e1lm\u00edki,2<\/a>bird of charming song,3<\/a>\r\n\r\nWho mounts on Poesy's sublimest spray,\r\n\r\nAnd sweetly sings with accent clear and strong\r\n\r\nR\u00e1ma, aye R\u00e1ma, in his deathless lay.\r\n\r\nWhere breathes the man can listen to the strain\r\n\r\nThat flows in music from V\u00e1lm\u00edki's tongue,\r\n\r\nNor feel his feet the path of bliss attain\r\n\r\nWhen R\u00e1ma's glory by the saint is sung!\r\n\r\nThe stream R\u00e1m\u00e1yan leaves its sacred fount\r\n\r\nThe whole wide world from sin and stain to free.4<\/a>\r\n\r\nThe Prince of Hermits is the parent mount,\r\n\r\nThe lordly R\u00e1ma is the darling sea.\r\n\r\nGlory to him whose fame is ever bright!\r\n\r\nGlory to him, Prachetas'5<\/a>holy son!\r\n\r\nWhose pure lips quaff with ever new delight\r\n\r\nThe nectar-sea of deeds by R\u00e1ma done.\r\n\r\nHail, arch-ascetic, pious, good, and kind!\r\n\r\nHail, Saint V\u00e1lm\u00edki, lord of every lore!\r\n\r\nHail, holy Hermit, calm and pure of mind!\r\n\r\nHail, First of Bards, V\u00e1lm\u00edki, hail once more!\r\n
<\/div>\r\nBook I.6<\/a><\/strong>\r\n\r\nCanto I. N\u00e1rad.7<\/a><\/strong>\r\n\r\nOM.8<\/a>\r\n\r\nTo sainted N\u00e1rad, prince of those\r\n\r\nWhose lore in words of wisdom flows.\r\n\r\nWhose constant care and chief delight\r\n\r\nWere Scripture and ascetic rite,\r\n\r\nThe good V\u00e1lm\u00edki, first and best\r\n\r\n[pg 002]\r\n\r\nOf hermit saints, these words addressed:9<\/a>\r\n\r\n\u201cIn all this world, I pray thee, who\r\n\r\nIs virtuous, heroic, true?\r\n\r\nFirm in his vows, of grateful mind,\r\n\r\nTo every creature good and kind?\r\n\r\nBounteous, and holy, just, and wise,\r\n\r\nAlone most fair to all men's eyes?\r\n\r\nDevoid of envy, firm, and sage,\r\n\r\nWhose tranquil soul ne'er yields to rage?\r\n\r\nWhom, when his warrior wrath is high,\r\n\r\nDo Gods embattled fear and fly?\r\n\r\nWhose noble might and gentle skill\r\n\r\nThe triple world can guard from ill?\r\n\r\nWho is the best of princes, he\r\n\r\nWho loves his people's good to see?\r\n\r\nThe store of bliss, the living mine\r\n\r\nWhere brightest joys and virtues shine?\r\n\r\nQueen Fortune's10<\/a> best and dearest friend,\r\n\r\nWhose steps her choicest gifts attend?\r\n\r\nWho may with Sun and Moon compare,\r\n\r\nWith Indra,11<\/a> Vish\u1e47u,12<\/a> Fire, and Air?\r\n\r\nGrant, Saint divine,13<\/a> the boon I ask,\r\n\r\nFor thee, I ween, an easy task,\r\n\r\nTo whom the power is given to know\r\n\r\nIf such a man breathe here below.\u201d\r\n\r\nThen N\u00e1rad, clear before whose eye\r\n\r\nThe present, past, and future lie,14<\/a>\r\n\r\nMade ready answer: \u201cHermit, where\r\n\r\nAre graces found so high and rare?\r\n\r\nYet listen, and my tongue shall tell\r\n\r\nIn whom alone these virtues dwell.\r\n\r\nFrom old Ikshv\u00e1ku's15<\/a> line he came,\r\n\r\nKnown to the world by R\u00e1ma's name:\r\n\r\nWith soul subdued, a chief of might,\r\n\r\nIn Scripture versed, in glory bright,\r\n\r\nHis steps in virtue's paths are bent,\r\n\r\nObedient, pure, and eloquent.\r\n\r\nIn each emprise he wins success,\r\n\r\nAnd dying foes his power confess.\r\n\r\nTall and broad-shouldered, strong of limb,\r\n\r\nFortune has set her mark on him.\r\n\r\nGraced with a conch-shell's triple line,\r\n\r\nHis throat displays the auspicious sign.16<\/a>\r\n\r\n[pg 003]\r\n\r\nHigh destiny is clear impressed\r\n\r\nOn massive jaw and ample chest,\r\n\r\nHis mighty shafts he truly aims,\r\n\r\nAnd foemen in the battle tames.\r\n\r\nDeep in the muscle, scarcely shown,\r\n\r\nEmbedded lies his collar-bone.\r\n\r\nHis lordly steps are firm and free,\r\n\r\nHis strong arms reach below his knee;17<\/a>\r\n\r\nAll fairest graces join to deck\r\n\r\nHis head, his brow, his stately neck,\r\n\r\nAnd limbs in fair proportion set:\r\n\r\nThe manliest form e'er fashioned yet.\r\n\r\nGraced with each high imperial mark,\r\n\r\nHis skin is soft and lustrous dark.\r\n\r\nLarge are his eyes that sweetly shine\r\n\r\nWith majesty almost divine.\r\n\r\nHis plighted word he ne'er forgets;\r\n\r\nOn erring sense a watch he sets.\r\n\r\nBy nature wise, his teacher's skill\r\n\r\nHas trained him to subdue his will.\r\n\r\nGood, resolute and pure, and strong,\r\n\r\nHe guards mankind from scathe and wrong,\r\n\r\nAnd lends his aid, and ne'er in vain,\r\n\r\nThe cause of justice to maintain.\r\n\r\nWell has he studied o'er and o'er\r\n\r\nThe Vedas18<\/a>and their kindred lore.\r\n\r\nWell skilled is he the bow to draw,19<\/a>\r\n\r\nWell trained in arts and versed in law;\r\n\r\nHigh-souled and meet for happy fate,\r\n\r\nMost tender and compassionate;\r\n\r\nThe noblest of all lordly givers,\r\n\r\nWhom good men follow, as the rivers\r\n\r\nFollow the King of Floods, the sea:\r\n\r\nSo liberal, so just is he.\r\n\r\nThe joy of Queen Kau\u015baly\u00e1's20<\/a>heart,\r\n\r\nIn every virtue he has part:\r\n\r\nFirm as Him\u00e1laya's21<\/a> snowy steep,\r\n\r\nUnfathomed like the mighty deep:\r\n\r\nThe peer of Vish\u1e47u's power and might,\r\n\r\nAnd lovely as the Lord of Night;22<\/a>\r\n\r\nPatient as Earth, but, roused to ire,\r\n\r\nFierce as the world-destroying fire;\r\n\r\nIn bounty like the Lord of Gold,23<\/a>\r\n\r\nAnd Justice self in human mould.\r\n\r\nWith him, his best and eldest son,\r\n\r\nBy all his princely virtues won\r\n\r\nKing Da\u015baratha24<\/a> willed to share\r\n\r\nHis kingdom as the Regent Heir.\r\n\r\nBut when Kaikey\u00ed, youngest queen,\r\n\r\nWith eyes of envious hate had seen\r\n\r\nThe solemn pomp and regal state\r\n\r\nPrepared the prince to consecrate,\r\n\r\nShe bade the hapless king bestow\r\n\r\nTwo gifts he promised long ago,\r\n\r\nThat R\u00e1ma to the woods should flee,\r\n\r\nAnd that her child the heir should be.\r\n\r\nBy chains of duty firmly tied,\r\n\r\nThe wretched king perforce complied.\r\n\r\n[pg 004]\r\n\r\nR\u00e1ma, to please Kaikey\u00ed went\r\n\r\nObedient forth to banishment.\r\n\r\nThen Lakshma\u1e47's truth was nobly shown,\r\n\r\nThen were his love and courage known,\r\n\r\nWhen for his brother's sake he dared\r\n\r\nAll perils, and his exile shared.\r\n\r\nAnd S\u00edt\u00e1, R\u00e1ma's darling wife,\r\n\r\nLoved even as he loved his life,\r\n\r\nWhom happy marks combined to bless,\r\n\r\nA miracle of loveliness,\r\n\r\nOf Janak's royal lineage sprung,\r\n\r\nMost excellent of women, clung\r\n\r\nTo her dear lord, like Rohi\u1e47\u00ed\r\n\r\nRejoicing with the Moon to be.25<\/a>\r\n\r\nThe King and people, sad of mood,\r\n\r\nThe hero's car awhile pursued.\r\n\r\nBut when Prince R\u00e1ma lighted down\r\n\r\nAt \u015aringavera's pleasant town,\r\n\r\nWhere Gang\u00e1's holy waters flow,\r\n\r\nHe bade his driver turn and go.\r\n\r\nGuha, Nish\u00e1das' king, he met,\r\n\r\nAnd on the farther bank was set.\r\n\r\nThen on from wood to wood they strayed,\r\n\r\nO'er many a stream, through constant shade,\r\n\r\nAs Bharadv\u00e1ja bade them, till\r\n\r\nThey came to Chitrak\u00fa\u1e6da's hill.\r\n\r\nAnd R\u00e1ma there, with Lakshma\u1e47's aid,\r\n\r\nA pleasant little cottage made,\r\n\r\nAnd spent his days with S\u00edt\u00e1, dressed\r\n\r\nIn coat of bark and deerskin vest.26<\/a>\r\n\r\nAnd Chitrak\u00fa\u1e6da grew to be\r\n\r\nAs bright with those illustrious three\r\n\r\nAs Meru's27<\/a> sacred peaks that shine\r\n\r\nWith glory, when the Gods recline\r\n\r\nBeneath them: \u015aiva's28<\/a> self between\r\n\r\nThe Lord of Gold and Beauty's Queen.\r\n\r\nThe aged king for R\u00e1ma pined,\r\n\r\nAnd for the skies the earth resigned.\r\n\r\nBharat, his son, refused to reign,\r\n\r\nThough urged by all the twice-born29<\/a> train.\r\n\r\nForth to the woods he fared to meet\r\n\r\nHis brother, fell before his feet,\r\n\r\nAnd cried, \u201cThy claim all men allow:\r\n\r\nO come, our lord and king be thou.\u201d\r\n\r\nBut R\u00e1ma nobly chose to be\r\n\r\nObservant of his sire's decree.\r\n\r\nHe placed his sandals30<\/a> in his hand\r\n\r\nA pledge that he would rule the land:\r\n\r\nAnd bade his brother turn again.\r\n\r\nThen Bharat, finding prayer was vain,\r\n\r\nThe sandals took and went away;\r\n\r\nNor in Ayodhy\u00e1 would he stay.\r\n\r\nBut turned to Nandigr\u00e1ma, where\r\n\r\nHe ruled the realm with watchful care,\r\n\r\nStill longing eagerly to learn\r\n\r\nTidings of R\u00e1ma's safe return.\r\n\r\nThen lest the people should repeat\r\n\r\nTheir visit to his calm retreat,\r\n\r\nAway from Chitrak\u00fa\u1e6da's hill\r\n\r\nFared R\u00e1ma ever onward till\r\n\r\n[pg 005]\r\n\r\nBeneath the shady trees he stood\r\n\r\nOf Da\u1e47\u1e0dak\u00e1's primeval wood,\r\n\r\nVir\u00e1dha, giant fiend, he slew,\r\n\r\nAnd then Agastya's friendship knew.\r\n\r\nCounselled by him he gained the sword\r\n\r\nAnd bow of Indra, heavenly lord:\r\n\r\nA pair of quivers too, that bore\r\n\r\nOf arrows an exhaustless store.\r\n\r\nWhile there he dwelt in greenwood shade\r\n\r\nThe trembling hermits sought his aid,\r\n\r\nAnd bade him with his sword and bow\r\n\r\nDestroy the fiends who worked them woe:\r\n\r\nTo come like Indra strong and brave,\r\n\r\nA guardian God to help and save.\r\n\r\nAnd R\u00e1ma's falchion left its trace\r\n\r\nDeep cut on \u015a\u00farpa\u1e47akh\u00e1's face:\r\n\r\nA hideous giantess who came\r\n\r\nBurning for him with lawless flame.\r\n\r\nTheir sister's cries the giants heard.\r\n\r\nAnd vengeance in each bosom stirred:\r\n\r\nThe monster of the triple head.\r\n\r\nAnd D\u00fasha\u1e47 to the contest sped.\r\n\r\nBut they and myriad fiends beside\r\n\r\nBeneath the might of R\u00e1ma died.\r\n\r\nWhen R\u00e1va\u1e47, dreaded warrior, knew\r\n\r\nThe slaughter of his giant crew:\r\n\r\nR\u00e1va\u1e47, the king, whose name of fear\r\n\r\nEarth, hell, and heaven all shook to hear:\r\n\r\nHe bade the fiend M\u00e1r\u00edcha aid\r\n\r\nThe vengeful plot his fury laid.\r\n\r\nIn vain the wise M\u00e1r\u00edcha tried\r\n\r\nTo turn him from his course aside:\r\n\r\nNot R\u00e1va\u1e47's self, he said, might hope\r\n\r\nWith R\u00e1ma and his strength to cope.\r\n\r\nImpelled by fate and blind with rage\r\n\r\nHe came to R\u00e1ma's hermitage.\r\n\r\nThere, by M\u00e1r\u00edcha's magic art,\r\n\r\nHe wiled the princely youths apart,\r\n\r\nThe vulture31<\/a> slew, and bore away\r\n\r\nThe wife of R\u00e1ma as his prey.\r\n\r\nThe son of Raghu32<\/a> came and found\r\n\r\nJa\u1e6d\u00e1yu slain upon the ground.\r\n\r\nHe rushed within his leafy cot;\r\n\r\nHe sought his wife, but found her not.\r\n\r\nThen, then the hero's senses failed;\r\n\r\nIn mad despair he wept and wailed.\r\n\r\nUpon the pile that bird he laid,\r\n\r\nAnd still in quest of S\u00edt\u00e1 strayed.\r\n\r\nA hideous giant then he saw,\r\n\r\nKabandha named, a shape of awe.\r\n\r\nThe monstrous fiend he smote and slew,\r\n\r\nAnd in the flame the body threw;\r\n\r\nWhen straight from out the funeral flame\r\n\r\nIn lovely form Kabandha came,\r\n\r\nAnd bade him seek in his distress\r\n\r\nA wise and holy hermitess.\r\n\r\nBy counsel of this saintly dame\r\n\r\nTo Pamp\u00e1's pleasant flood he came,\r\n\r\nAnd there the steadfast friendship won\r\n\r\nOf Hanum\u00e1n the Wind-God's son.\r\n\r\nCounselled by him he told his grief\r\n\r\nTo great Sugr\u00edva, V\u00e1nar chief,\r\n\r\nWho, knowing all the tale, before\r\n\r\nThe sacred flame alliance swore.\r\n\r\nSugr\u00edva to his new-found friend\r\n\r\nTold his own story to the end:\r\n\r\nHis hate of B\u00e1li for the wrong\r\n\r\nAnd insult he had borne so long.\r\n\r\nAnd R\u00e1ma lent a willing ear\r\n\r\nAnd promised to allay his fear.\r\n\r\nSugr\u00edva warned him of the might\r\n\r\nOf B\u00e1li, matchless in the fight,\r\n\r\nAnd, credence for his tale to gain,\r\n\r\nShowed the huge fiend33<\/a> by B\u00e1li slain.\r\n\r\nThe prostrate corse of mountain size\r\n\r\nSeemed nothing in the hero's eyes;\r\n\r\nHe lightly kicked it, as it lay,\r\n\r\nAnd cast it twenty leagues34<\/a> away.\r\n\r\nTo prove his might his arrows through\r\n\r\nSeven palms in line, uninjured, flew.\r\n\r\nHe cleft a mighty hill apart,\r\n\r\nAnd down to hell he hurled his dart.\r\n\r\nThen high Sugr\u00edva's spirit rose,\r\n\r\nAssured of conquest o'er his foes.\r\n\r\nWith his new champion by his side\r\n\r\nTo vast Kishkindh\u00e1's cave he hied.\r\n\r\nThen, summoned by his awful shout,\r\n\r\nKing B\u00e1li came in fury out,\r\n\r\nFirst comforted his trembling wife,\r\n\r\nThen sought Sugr\u00edva in the strife.\r\n\r\nOne shaft from R\u00e1ma's deadly bow\r\n\r\nThe monarch in the dust laid low.\r\n\r\nThen R\u00e1ma bade Sugr\u00edva reign\r\n\r\nIn place of royal B\u00e1li slain.\r\n\r\nThen speedy envoys hurried forth\r\n\r\nEastward and westward, south and north,\r\n\r\nCommanded by the grateful king\r\n\r\nTidings of R\u00e1ma's spouse to bring.\r\n\r\nThen by Samp\u00e1ti's counsel led,\r\n\r\nBrave Hanum\u00e1n, who mocked at dread,\r\n\r\nSprang at one wild tremendous leap\r\n\r\nTwo hundred leagues across the deep.\r\n\r\nTo Lank\u00e1's35<\/a> town he urged his way,\r\n\r\nWhere R\u00e1va\u1e47 held his royal sway.\r\n\r\n[pg 006]\r\n\r\nThere pensive 'neath A\u015boka36<\/a> boughs\r\n\r\nHe found poor S\u00edt\u00e1, R\u00e1ma's spouse.\r\n\r\nHe gave the hapless girl a ring,\r\n\r\nA token from her lord and king.\r\n\r\nA pledge from her fair hand he bore;\r\n\r\nThen battered down the garden door.\r\n\r\nFive captains of the host he slew,\r\n\r\nSeven sons of councillors o'erthrew;\r\n\r\nCrushed youthful Aksha on the field,\r\n\r\nThen to his captors chose to yield.\r\n\r\nSoon from their bonds his limbs were free,\r\n\r\nBut honouring the high decree\r\n\r\nWhich Brahm\u00e137<\/a> had pronounced of yore,\r\n\r\nHe calmly all their insults bore.\r\n\r\nThe town he burnt with hostile flame,\r\n\r\nAnd spoke again with R\u00e1ma's dame,\r\n\r\nThen swiftly back to R\u00e1ma flew\r\n\r\nWith tidings of the interview.\r\n\r\nThen with Sugr\u00edva for his guide,\r\n\r\nCame R\u00e1ma to the ocean side.\r\n\r\nHe smote the sea with shafts as bright\r\n\r\nAs sunbeams in their summer height,\r\n\r\nAnd quick appeared the Rivers' King38<\/a>\r\n\r\nObedient to the summoning.\r\n\r\nA bridge was thrown by Nala o'er\r\n\r\nThe narrow sea from shore to shore.39<\/a>\r\n\r\nThey crossed to Lank\u00e1's golden town,\r\n\r\nWhere R\u00e1ma's hand smote R\u00e1va\u1e47 down.\r\n\r\nVibhisha\u1e47 there was left to reign\r\n\r\nOver his brother's wide domain.\r\n\r\nTo meet her husband S\u00edt\u00e1 came;\r\n\r\nBut R\u00e1ma, stung with ire and shame,\r\n\r\nWith bitter words his wife addressed\r\n\r\nBefore the crowd that round her pressed.\r\n\r\nBut S\u00edt\u00e1, touched with noble ire,\r\n\r\nGave her fair body to the fire.\r\n\r\nThen straight the God of Wind appeared,\r\n\r\nAnd words from heaven her honour cleared.\r\n\r\nAnd R\u00e1ma clasped his wife again,\r\n\r\nUninjured, pure from spot and stain,\r\n\r\nObedient to the Lord of Fire\r\n\r\nAnd the high mandate of his sire.\r\n\r\nLed by the Lord who rules the sky,\r\n\r\nThe Gods and heavenly saints drew nigh,\r\n\r\nAnd honoured him with worthy meed,\r\n\r\nRejoicing in each glorious deed.\r\n\r\nHis task achieved, his foe removed,\r\n\r\nHe triumphed, by the Gods approved.\r\n\r\nBy grace of Heaven he raised to life\r\n\r\nThe chieftains slain in mortal strife;\r\n\r\nThen in the magic chariot through\r\n\r\nThe clouds to Nandigr\u00e1ma flew.\r\n\r\nMet by his faithful brothers there,\r\n\r\nHe loosed his votive coil of hair:\r\n\r\nThence fair Ayodhy\u00e1's town he gained,\r\n\r\nAnd o'er his father's kingdom reigned.\r\n\r\nDisease or famine ne'er oppressed\r\n\r\nHis happy people, richly blest\r\n\r\nWith all the joys of ample wealth,\r\n\r\nOf sweet content and perfect health.\r\n\r\nNo widow mourned her well-loved mate,\r\n\r\nNo sire his son's untimely fate.\r\n\r\nThey feared not storm or robber's hand;\r\n\r\nNo fire or flood laid waste the land:\r\n\r\nThe Golden Age40<\/a> had come again\r\n\r\nTo bless the days of R\u00e1ma's reign.\r\n\r\nFrom him, the great and glorious king,\r\n\r\nShall many a princely scion spring.\r\n\r\nAnd he shall rule, beloved by men,\r\n\r\nTen thousand years and hundreds ten,41<\/a>\r\n\r\nAnd when his life on earth is past\r\n\r\nTo Brahm\u00e1's world shall go at last.\u201d\r\n\r\nWhoe'er this noble poem reads\r\n\r\nThat tells the tale of R\u00e1ma's deeds,\r\n\r\nGood as the Scriptures, he shall be\r\n\r\nFrom every sin and blemish free.\r\n\r\nWhoever reads the saving strain,\r\n\r\nWith all his kin the heavens shall gain.\r\n\r\nBr\u00e1hmans who read shall gather hence\r\n\r\nThe highest praise for eloquence.\r\n\r\nThe warrior, o'er the land shall reign,\r\n\r\nThe merchant, luck in trade obtain;\r\n\r\nAnd \u015a\u00fadras listening42<\/a> ne'er shall fail\r\n\r\nTo reap advantage from the tale.43<\/a>\r\n\r\n[pg 007]\r\n\r\nCanto II. Brahm\u00e1's Visit<\/strong>\r\n\r\nV\u00e1lm\u00edki, graceful speaker, heard,\r\n\r\nTo highest admiration stirred.\r\n\r\nTo him whose fame the tale rehearsed\r\n\r\nHe paid his mental worship first;\r\n\r\nThen with his pupil humbly bent\r\n\r\nBefore the saint most eloquent.\r\n\r\nThus honoured and dismissed the seer\r\n\r\nDeparted to his heavenly sphere.\r\n\r\nThen from his cot V\u00e1lm\u00edki hied\r\n\r\nTo Tamas\u00e1's44<\/a> sequestered side,\r\n\r\nNot far remote from Gang\u00e1's tide.\r\n\r\nHe stood and saw the ripples roll\r\n\r\nPellucid o'er a pebbly shoal.\r\n\r\nTo Bharadv\u00e1ja45<\/a> by his side\r\n\r\nHe turned in ecstasy, and cried:\r\n\r\n\u201cSee, pupil dear, this lovely sight,\r\n\r\nThe smooth-floored shallow, pure and bright,\r\n\r\nWith not a speck or shade to mar,\r\n\r\nAnd clear as good men's bosoms are.\r\n\r\nHere on the brink thy pitcher lay,\r\n\r\nAnd bring my zone of bark, I pray.\r\n\r\nHere will I bathe: the rill has not,\r\n\r\nTo lave the limbs, a fairer spot.\r\n\r\nDo quickly as I bid, nor waste\r\n\r\nThe precious time; away, and haste.\u201d\r\n\r\nObedient to his master's hest\r\n\r\nQuick from the cot he brought the vest;\r\n\r\nThe hermit took it from his hand,\r\n\r\nAnd tightened round his waist the band;\r\n\r\nThen duly dipped and bathed him there,\r\n\r\nAnd muttered low his secret prayer.\r\n\r\nTo spirits and to Gods he made\r\n\r\nLibation of the stream, and strayed\r\n\r\nViewing the forest deep and wide\r\n\r\nThat spread its shade on every side.\r\n\r\nClose by the bank he saw a pair\r\n\r\nOf curlews sporting fearless there.\r\n\r\nBut suddenly with evil mind\r\n\r\nAn outcast fowler stole behind,\r\n\r\nAnd, with an aim too sure and true,\r\n\r\nThe male bird near the hermit slew.\r\n\r\nThe wretched hen in wild despair\r\n\r\nWith fluttering pinions beat the air,\r\n\r\nAnd shrieked a long and bitter cry\r\n\r\nWhen low on earth she saw him lie,\r\n\r\nHer loved companion, quivering, dead,\r\n\r\nHis dear wings with his lifeblood red;\r\n\r\nAnd for her golden crested mate\r\n\r\nShe mourned, and was disconsolate.\r\n\r\nThe hermit saw the slaughtered bird,\r\n\r\nAnd all his heart with ruth was stirred.\r\n\r\nThe fowler's impious deed distressed\r\n\r\nHis gentle sympathetic breast,\r\n\r\nAnd while the curlew's sad cries rang\r\n\r\nWithin his ears, the hermit sang:\r\n\r\n\u201cNo fame be thine for endless time,\r\n\r\nBecause, base outcast, of thy crime,\r\n\r\nWhose cruel hand was fain to slay\r\n\r\nOne of this gentle pair at play!\u201d\r\n\r\nE'en as he spoke his bosom wrought\r\n\r\nAnd laboured with the wondering thought\r\n\r\nWhat was the speech his ready tongue\r\n\r\nHad uttered when his heart was wrung.\r\n\r\nHe pondered long upon the speech,\r\n\r\nRecalled the words and measured each,\r\n\r\nAnd thus exclaimed the saintly guide\r\n\r\nTo Bharadv\u00e1ja by his side:\r\n\r\n\u201cWith equal lines of even feet,\r\n\r\nWith rhythm and time and tone complete,\r\n\r\nThe measured form of words I spoke\r\n\r\nIn shock of grief be termed a \u015bloke.\u201d46<\/a>\r\n\r\nAnd Bharadv\u00e1ja, nothing slow\r\n\r\nHis faithful love and zeal to show,\r\n\r\nAnswered those words of wisdom, \u201cBe\r\n\r\nThe name, my lord, as pleases thee.\u201d\r\n\r\nAs rules prescribe the hermit took\r\n\r\nSome lustral water from the brook.\r\n\r\nBut still on this his constant thought\r\n\r\nKept brooding, as his home he sought;\r\n\r\nWhile Bharadv\u00e1ja paced behind,\r\n\r\nA pupil sage of lowly mind,\r\n\r\nAnd in his hand a pitcher bore\r\n\r\nWith pure fresh water brimming o'er.\r\n\r\nSoon as they reached their calm retreat\r\n\r\nThe holy hermit took his seat;\r\n\r\nHis mind from worldly cares recalled,\r\n\r\nAnd mused in deepest thought enthralled.\r\n\r\nThen glorious Brahm\u00e1,47<\/a> Lord Most High,\r\n\r\nCreator of the earth and sky,\r\n\r\n[pg 008]\r\n\r\nThe four-faced God, to meet the sage\r\n\r\nCame to V\u00e1lm\u00edki's hermitage.\r\n\r\nSoon as the mighty God he saw,\r\n\r\nUp sprang the saint in wondering awe.\r\n\r\nMute, with clasped hands, his head he bent,\r\n\r\nAnd stood before him reverent.\r\n\r\nHis honoured guest he greeted well,\r\n\r\nWho bade him of his welfare tell;\r\n\r\nGave water for his blessed feet,\r\n\r\nBrought offerings,48<\/a> and prepared a seat.\r\n\r\nIn honoured place the God Most High\r\n\r\nSate down, and bade the saint sit nigh.\r\n\r\nThere sate before V\u00e1lm\u00edki's eyes\r\n\r\nThe Father of the earth and skies;\r\n\r\nBut still the hermit's thoughts were bent\r\n\r\nOn one thing only, all intent\r\n\r\nOn that poor curlew's mournful fate\r\n\r\nLamenting for her slaughtered mate;\r\n\r\nAnd still his lips, in absent mood,\r\n\r\nThe verse that told his grief, renewed:\r\n\r\n\u201cWoe to the fowler's impious hand\r\n\r\nThat did the deed that folly planned;\r\n\r\nThat could to needless death devote\r\n\r\nThe curlew of the tuneful throat!\u201d\r\n\r\nThe heavenly Father smiled in glee,\r\n\r\nAnd said, \u201cO best of hermits, see,\r\n\r\nA verse, unconscious, thou hast made;\r\n\r\nNo longer be the task delayed.\r\n\r\nSeek not to trace, with labour vain,\r\n\r\nThe unpremeditated strain.\r\n\r\nThe tuneful lines thy lips rehearsed\r\n\r\nSpontaneous from thy bosom burst.\r\n\r\nThen come, O best of seers, relate\r\n\r\nThe life of R\u00e1ma good and great,\r\n\r\nThe tale that saintly N\u00e1rad told,\r\n\r\nIn all its glorious length unfold.\r\n\r\nOf all the deeds his arm has done\r\n\r\nUpon this earth, omit not one,\r\n\r\nAnd thus the noble life record\r\n\r\nOf that wise, brave, and virtuous lord.\r\n\r\nHis every act to day displayed,\r\n\r\nHis secret life to none betrayed:\r\n\r\nHow Lakshma\u1e47, how the giants fought;\r\n\r\nWith high emprise and hidden thought:\r\n\r\nAnd all that Janak's child49<\/a> befell\r\n\r\nWhere all could see, where none could tell.\r\n\r\nThe whole of this shall truly be\r\n\r\nMade known, O best of saints, to thee.\r\n\r\nIn all thy poem, through my grace,\r\n\r\nNo word of falsehood shall have place.\r\n\r\nBegin the story, and rehearse\r\n\r\nThe tale divine in charming verse.\r\n\r\nAs long as in this firm-set land\r\n\r\nThe streams shall flow, the mountains stand,\r\n\r\nSo long throughout the world, be sure,\r\n\r\nThe great R\u00e1m\u00e1yan shall endure.50<\/a>\r\n\r\nWhile the R\u00e1m\u00e1yan's ancient strain\r\n\r\nShall glorious in the earth remain,\r\n\r\nTo higher spheres shalt thou arise\r\n\r\nAnd dwell with me above the skies.\u201d\r\n\r\nHe spoke, and vanished into air,\r\n\r\nAnd left V\u00e1lm\u00edki wondering there.\r\n\r\nThe pupils of the holy man,\r\n\r\nMoved by their love of him, began\r\n\r\nTo chant that verse, and ever more\r\n\r\nThey marvelled as they sang it o'er:\r\n\r\n\u201cBehold, the four-lined balanced rime,\r\n\r\nRepeated over many a time,\r\n\r\nIn words that from the hermit broke\r\n\r\nIn shock of grief, becomes a \u015bloke.\u201d\r\n\r\nThis measure now V\u00e1lm\u00edki chose\r\n\r\nWherein his story to compose.\r\n\r\nIn hundreds of such verses, sweet\r\n\r\nWith equal lines and even feet,\r\n\r\nThe saintly poet, lofty-souled,\r\n\r\nThe glorious deeds of R\u00e1ma told.\r\n\r\nCanto III. The Argument.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nThe hermit thus with watchful heed\r\n\r\nReceived the poem's pregnant seed,\r\n\r\nAnd looked with eager thought around\r\n\r\nIf fuller knowledge might be found.\r\n\r\n[pg 009]\r\n\r\nHis lips with water first bedewed,51<\/a>\r\n\r\nHe sate, in reverent attitude\r\n\r\nOn holy grass,52<\/a> the points all bent\r\n\r\nTogether toward the orient;53<\/a>\r\n\r\nAnd thus in meditation he\r\n\r\nEntered the path of poesy.\r\n\r\nThen clearly, through his virtue's might,\r\n\r\nAll lay discovered to his sight,\r\n\r\nWhate'er befell, through all their life,\r\n\r\nR\u00e1ma, his brother, and his wife:\r\n\r\nAnd Da\u015baratha and each queen\r\n\r\nAt every time, in every scene:\r\n\r\nHis people too, of every sort;\r\n\r\nThe nobles of his princely court:\r\n\r\nWhate'er was said, whate'er decreed,\r\n\r\nEach time they sate each plan and deed:\r\n\r\nFor holy thought and fervent rite\r\n\r\nHad so refined his keener sight\r\n\r\nThat by his sanctity his view\r\n\r\nThe present, past, and future knew,\r\n\r\nAnd he with mental eye could grasp,\r\n\r\nLike fruit within his fingers clasp,\r\n\r\nThe life of R\u00e1ma, great and good,\r\n\r\nRoaming with S\u00edt\u00e1 in the wood.\r\n\r\nHe told, with secret-piercing eyes,\r\n\r\nThe tale of R\u00e1ma's high emprise,\r\n\r\nEach listening ear that shall entice,\r\n\r\nA sea of pearls of highest price.\r\n\r\nThus good V\u00e1lm\u00edki, sage divine,\r\n\r\nRehearsed the tale of Raghu's line,\r\n\r\nAs N\u00e1rad, heavenly saint, before\r\n\r\nHad traced the story's outline o'er.\r\n\r\nHe sang of R\u00e1ma's princely birth,\r\n\r\nHis kindness and heroic worth;\r\n\r\nHis love for all, his patient youth,\r\n\r\nHis gentleness and constant truth,\r\n\r\nAnd many a tale and legend old\r\n\r\nBy holy Vi\u015bv\u00e1mitra told.\r\n\r\nHow Janak's child he wooed and won,\r\n\r\nAnd broke the bow that bent to none.\r\n\r\nHow he with every virtue fraught\r\n\r\nHis namesake R\u00e1ma54<\/a> met and fought.\r\n\r\nThe choice of R\u00e1ma for the throne;\r\n\r\nThe malice by Kaikey\u00ed shown,\r\n\r\nWhose evil counsel marred the plan\r\n\r\nAnd drove him forth a banisht man.\r\n\r\nHow the king grieved and groaned, and cried,\r\n\r\nAnd swooned away and pining died.\r\n\r\nThe subjects' woe when thus bereft;\r\n\r\nAnd how the following crowds he left:\r\n\r\nWith Guha talked, and firmly stern\r\n\r\nOrdered his driver to return.\r\n\r\nHow Gang\u00e1's farther shore he gained;\r\n\r\nBy Bharadv\u00e1ja entertained,\r\n\r\nBy whose advice he journeyed still\r\n\r\nAnd came to Chitrak\u00fa\u1e6da's hill.\r\n\r\nHow there he dwelt and built a cot;\r\n\r\nHow Bharat journeyed to the spot;\r\n\r\nHis earnest supplication made;\r\n\r\nDrink-offerings to their father paid;\r\n\r\nThe sandals given by R\u00e1ma's hand,\r\n\r\nAs emblems of his right, to stand:\r\n\r\nHow from his presence Bharat went\r\n\r\nAnd years in Nandigr\u00e1ma spent.\r\n\r\nHow R\u00e1ma entered Da\u1e47\u1e0dak wood\r\n\r\nAnd in Sut\u00edkh\u1e47a's presence stood.\r\n\r\nThe favour Anas\u00fay\u00e1 showed,\r\n\r\nThe wondrous balsam she bestowed.\r\n\r\nHow \u015aarabhanga's dwelling-place\r\n\r\nThey sought; saw Indra face to face;\r\n\r\nThe meeting with Agastya gained;\r\n\r\nThe heavenly bow from him obtained.\r\n\r\nHow R\u00e1ma with Vir\u00e1dha met;\r\n\r\nTheir home in Panchava\u1e6da set.\r\n\r\nHow \u015a\u00farpa\u1e47akh\u00e1 underwent\r\n\r\nThe mockery and disfigurement.\r\n\r\nOf Tri\u015bir\u00e1's and Khara's fall,\r\n\r\nOf R\u00e1va\u1e47 roused at vengeance call,\r\n\r\nM\u00e1r\u00edcha doomed, without escape;\r\n\r\nThe fair Videhan55<\/a> lady's rape.\r\n\r\nHow R\u00e1ma wept and raved in vain,\r\n\r\nAnd how the Vulture-king was slain.\r\n\r\nHow R\u00e1ma fierce Kabandha slew;\r\n\r\nThen to the side of Pamp\u00e1 drew,\r\n\r\nMet Hanum\u00e1n, and her whose vows\r\n\r\nWere kept beneath the greenwood boughs.\r\n\r\nHow Raghu's son, the lofty-souled,\r\n\r\nOn Pamp\u00e1's bank wept uncontrolled,\r\n\r\nThen journeyed, Rishyam\u00fak to reach,\r\n\r\nAnd of Sugr\u00edva then had speech.\r\n\r\nThe friendship made, which both had sought:\r\n\r\nHow B\u00e1li and Sugr\u00edva fought.\r\n\r\nHow B\u00e1li in the strife was slain,\r\n\r\nAnd how Sugr\u00edva came to reign.\r\n\r\nThe treaty, T\u00e1ra's wild lament;\r\n\r\nThe rainy nights in watching spent.\r\n\r\nThe wrath of Raghu's lion son;\r\n\r\nThe gathering of the hosts in one.\r\n\r\nThe sending of the spies about,\r\n\r\nAnd all the regions pointed out.\r\n\r\nThe ring by R\u00e1ma's hand bestowed;\r\n\r\nThe cave wherein the bear abode.\r\n\r\nThe fast proposed, their lives to end;\r\n\r\nSampati gained to be their friend.\r\n\r\n[pg 010]\r\n\r\nThe scaling of the hill, the leap\r\n\r\nOf Hanum\u00e1n across the deep.\r\n\r\nOcean's command that bade them seek\r\n\r\nMain\u00e1ka of the lofty peak.\r\n\r\nThe death of Sinhik\u00e1, the sight\r\n\r\nOf Lank\u00e1 with her palace bright\r\n\r\nHow Hanum\u00e1n stole in at eve;\r\n\r\nHis plan the giants to deceive.\r\n\r\nHow through the square he made his way\r\n\r\nTo chambers where the women lay,\r\n\r\nWithin the A\u015boka garden came\r\n\r\nAnd there found R\u00e1ma's captive dame.\r\n\r\nHis colloquy with her he sought,\r\n\r\nAnd giving of the ring he brought.\r\n\r\nHow S\u00edt\u00e1 gave a gem o'erjoyed;\r\n\r\nHow Hanum\u00e1n the grove destroyed.\r\n\r\nHow giantesses trembling fled,\r\n\r\nAnd servant fiends were smitten dead.\r\n\r\nHow Hanum\u00e1n was seized; their ire\r\n\r\nWhen Lank\u00e1 blazed with hostile fire.\r\n\r\nHis leap across the sea once more;\r\n\r\nThe eating of the honey store.\r\n\r\nHow R\u00e1ma he consoled, and how\r\n\r\nHe showed the gem from S\u00edt\u00e1's brow.\r\n\r\nWith Ocean, R\u00e1ma's interview;\r\n\r\nThe bridge that Nala o'er it threw.\r\n\r\nThe crossing, and the sitting down\r\n\r\nAt night round Lank\u00e1's royal town.\r\n\r\nThe treaty with Vibh\u00edsha\u1e47 made:\r\n\r\nThe plan for R\u00e1va\u1e47's slaughter laid.\r\n\r\nHow Kumbhakar\u1e47a in his pride\r\n\r\nAnd Meghan\u00e1da fought and died.\r\n\r\nHow R\u00e1va\u1e47 in the fight was slain,\r\n\r\nAnd captive S\u00edt\u00e1 brought again.\r\n\r\nVibh\u00edsha\u1e47 set upon the throne;\r\n\r\nThe flying chariot Pushpak shown.\r\n\r\nHow Brahm\u00e1 and the Gods appeared,\r\n\r\nAnd S\u00edt\u00e1's doubted honour cleared.\r\n\r\nHow in the flying car they rode\r\n\r\nTo Bharadv\u00e1ja's cabin abode.\r\n\r\nThe Wind-God's son sent on afar;\r\n\r\nHow Bharat met the flying car.\r\n\r\nHow R\u00e1ma then was king ordained;\r\n\r\nThe legions their discharge obtained.\r\n\r\nHow R\u00e1ma cast his queen away;\r\n\r\nHow grew the people's love each day.\r\n\r\nThus did the saint V\u00e1lm\u00edki tell\r\n\r\nWhate'er in R\u00e1ma's life befell,\r\n\r\nAnd in the closing verses all\r\n\r\nThat yet to come will once befall.\r\n\r\nCanto IV. The Rhapsodists.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nWhen to the end the tale was brought,\r\n\r\nRose in the sage's mind the thought;\r\n\r\n\u201cNow who throughout this earth will go,\r\n\r\nAnd tell it forth that all may know?\u201d\r\n\r\nAs thus he mused with anxious breast,\r\n\r\nBehold, in hermit's raiment dressed,\r\n\r\nKu\u015b\u00e1 and Lava56<\/a> came to greet\r\n\r\nTheir master and embrace his feet.\r\n\r\nThe twins he saw, that princely pair\r\n\r\nSweet-voiced, who dwelt beside him there\r\n\r\nNone for the task could be more fit,\r\n\r\nFor skilled were they in Holy Writ;\r\n\r\nAnd so the great R\u00e1m\u00e1yan, fraught\r\n\r\nWith lore divine, to these he taught:\r\n\r\nThe lay whose verses sweet and clear\r\n\r\nTake with delight the listening ear,\r\n\r\nThat tell of S\u00edt\u00e1's noble life\r\n\r\nAnd R\u00e1va\u1e47's fall in battle strife.\r\n\r\nGreat joy to all who hear they bring,\r\n\r\nSweet to recite and sweet to sing.\r\n\r\nFor music's sevenfold notes are there,\r\n\r\nAnd triple measure,57<\/a> wrought with care\r\n\r\nWith melody and tone and time,\r\n\r\nAnd flavours58<\/a> that enhance the rime;\r\n\r\nHeroic might has ample place,\r\n\r\nAnd loathing of the false and base,\r\n\r\nWith anger, mirth, and terror, blent\r\n\r\nWith tenderness, surprise, content.\r\n\r\nWhen, half the hermit's grace to gain,\r\n\r\nAnd half because they loved the strain,\r\n\r\nThe youth within their hearts had stored\r\n\r\nThe poem that his lips outpoured,\r\n\r\nV\u00e1lm\u00edki kissed them on the head,\r\n\r\nAs at his feet they bowed, and said;\r\n\r\n\u201cRecite ye this heroic song\r\n\r\nIn tranquil shades where sages throng:\r\n\r\nRecite it where the good resort,\r\n\r\nIn lowly home and royal court.\u201d\r\n\r\nThe hermit ceased. The tuneful pair,\r\n\r\nLike heavenly minstrels sweet and fair,\r\n\r\nIn music's art divinely skilled,\r\n\r\nTheir saintly master's word fulfilled.\r\n\r\nLike R\u00e1ma's self, from whom they came,\r\n\r\nThey showed their sire in face and frame,\r\n\r\n[pg 011]\r\n\r\nAs though from some fair sculptured stone\r\n\r\nTwo selfsame images had grown.\r\n\r\nSometimes the pair rose up to sing,\r\n\r\nSurrounded by a holy ring,\r\n\r\nWhere seated on the grass had met\r\n\r\nFull many a musing anchoret.\r\n\r\nThen tears bedimmed those gentle eyes,\r\n\r\nAs transport took them and surprise,\r\n\r\nAnd as they listened every one\r\n\r\nCried in delight, Well done! Well done!\r\n\r\nThose sages versed in holy lore\r\n\r\nPraised the sweet minstrels more and more:\r\n\r\nAnd wondered at the singers' skill,\r\n\r\nAnd the bard's verses sweeter still,\r\n\r\nWhich laid so clear before the eye\r\n\r\nThe glorious deeds of days gone by.\r\n\r\nThus by the virtuous hermits praised,\r\n\r\nInspirited their voice they raised.\r\n\r\nPleased with the song this holy man\r\n\r\nWould give the youths a water-can;\r\n\r\nOne gave a fair ascetic dress,\r\n\r\nOr sweet fruit from the wilderness.\r\n\r\nOne saint a black-deer's hide would bring,\r\n\r\nAnd one a sacrificial string:\r\n\r\nOne, a clay pitcher from his hoard,\r\n\r\nAnd one, a twisted munja cord.59<\/a>\r\n\r\nOne in his joy an axe would find,\r\n\r\nOne braid, their plaited locks to bind.\r\n\r\nOne gave a sacrificial cup,\r\n\r\nOne rope to tie their fagots up;\r\n\r\nWhile fuel at their feet was laid,\r\n\r\nOr hermit's stool of fig-tree made.\r\n\r\nAll gave, or if they gave not, none\r\n\r\nForgot at least a benison.\r\n\r\nSome saints, delighted with their lays,\r\n\r\nWould promise health and length of days;\r\n\r\nOthers with surest words would add\r\n\r\nSome boon to make their spirit glad.\r\n\r\nIn such degree of honour then\r\n\r\nThat song was held by holy men:\r\n\r\nThat living song which life can give,\r\n\r\nBy which shall many a minstrel live.\r\n\r\nIn seat of kings, in crowded hall,\r\n\r\nThey sang the poem, praised of all.\r\n\r\nAnd R\u00e1ma chanced to hear their lay,\r\n\r\nWhile he the votive steed60<\/a> would slay,\r\n\r\nAnd sent fit messengers to bring\r\n\r\nThe minstrel pair before the king.\r\n\r\nThey came, and found the monarch high\r\n\r\nEnthroned in gold, his brothers nigh;\r\n\r\nWhile many a minister below,\r\n\r\nAnd noble, sate in lengthened row.\r\n\r\nThe youthful pair awhile he viewed\r\n\r\nGraceful in modest attitude,\r\n\r\nAnd then in words like these addressed\r\n\r\nHis brother Lakshma\u1e47 and the rest:\r\n\r\n\u201cCome, listen to the wondrous strain\r\n\r\nRecited by these godlike twain,\r\n\r\nSweet singers of a story fraught\r\n\r\nWith melody and lofty thought.\u201d\r\n\r\nThe pair, with voices sweet and strong,\r\n\r\nRolled the full tide of noble song,\r\n\r\nWith tone and accent deftly blent\r\n\r\nTo suit the changing argument.\r\n\r\nMid that assembly loud and clear\r\n\r\nRang forth that lay so sweet to hear,\r\n\r\nThat universal rapture stole\r\n\r\nThrough each man's frame and heart and soul.\r\n\r\n\u201cThese minstrels, blest with every sign\r\n\r\nThat marks a high and princely line,\r\n\r\nIn holy shades who dwell,\r\n\r\nEnshrined in Saint V\u00e1lm\u00edki's lay,\r\n\r\nA monument to live for aye,\r\n\r\nMy deeds in song shall tell.\u201d\r\n\r\nThus R\u00e1ma spoke: their breasts were fired,\r\n\r\nAnd the great tale, as if inspired,\r\n\r\nThe youths began to sing,\r\n\r\nWhile every heart with transport swelled,\r\n\r\nAnd mute and rapt attention held\r\n\r\nThe concourse and the king.\r\n\r\nCanto V. Ayodhy\u00e1.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n\u201cIkshv\u00e1ku's sons from days of old\r\n\r\nWere ever brave and mighty-souled.\r\n\r\nThe land their arms had made their own\r\n\r\nWas bounded by the sea alone.\r\n\r\nTheir holy works have won them praise,\r\n\r\nThrough countless years, from Manu's days.\r\n\r\nTheir ancient sire was Sagar, he\r\n\r\nWhose high command dug out the sea:61<\/a>\r\n\r\nWith sixty thousand sons to throng\r\n\r\nAround him as he marched along.\r\n\r\nFrom them this glorious tale proceeds:\r\n\r\nThe great R\u00e1m\u00e1yan tells their deeds.\r\n\r\nThis noble song whose lines contain\r\n\r\nLessons of duty, love, and gain,\r\n\r\nWe two will now at length recite,\r\n\r\nWhile good men listen with delight.\r\n\r\nOn Sarj\u00fa's62<\/a> bank, of ample size,\r\n\r\nThe happy realm of Ko\u015bal lies,\r\n\r\n[pg 012]\r\n\r\nWith fertile length of fair champaign\r\n\r\nAnd flocks and herds and wealth of grain.\r\n\r\nThere, famous in her old renown,\r\n\r\nAyodhy\u00e163<\/a> stands, the royal town,\r\n\r\nIn bygone ages built and planned\r\n\r\nBy sainted Manu's64<\/a> princely hand.\r\n\r\nImperial seat! her walls extend\r\n\r\nTwelve measured leagues from end to end,\r\n\r\nAnd three in width from side to side,\r\n\r\nWith square and palace beautified.\r\n\r\nHer gates at even distance stand;\r\n\r\nHer ample roads are wisely planned.\r\n\r\nRight glorious is her royal street\r\n\r\nWhere streams allay the dust and heat.\r\n\r\nOn level ground in even row\r\n\r\nHer houses rise in goodly show:\r\n\r\nTerrace and palace, arch and gate\r\n\r\nThe queenly city decorate.\r\n\r\nHigh are her ramparts, strong and vast,\r\n\r\nBy ways at even distance passed,\r\n\r\nWith circling moat, both deep and wide,\r\n\r\nAnd store of weapons fortified.\r\n\r\nKing Da\u015baratha, lofty-souled,\r\n\r\nThat city guarded and controlled,\r\n\r\nWith towering S\u00e1l trees belted round,65<\/a>\r\n\r\nAnd many a grove and pleasure ground,\r\n\r\nAs royal Indra, throned on high,\r\n\r\nRules his fair city in the sky.66<\/a>\r\n\r\nShe seems a painted city, fair\r\n\r\nWith chess-board line and even square.67<\/a>\r\n\r\nAnd cool boughs shade the lovely lake\r\n\r\nWhere weary men their thirst may slake.\r\n\r\nThere gilded chariots gleam and shine,\r\n\r\nAnd stately piles the Gods enshrine.\r\n\r\nThere gay sleek people ever throng\r\n\r\nTo festival and dance and song.\r\n\r\nA mine is she of gems and sheen,\r\n\r\nThe darling home of Fortune's Queen.\r\n\r\nWith noblest sort of drink and meat,\r\n\r\nThe fairest rice and golden wheat,\r\n\r\nAnd fragrant with the chaplet's scent\r\n\r\nWith holy oil and incense blent.\r\n\r\nWith many an elephant and steed,\r\n\r\nAnd wains for draught and cars for speed.\r\n\r\nWith envoys sent by distant kings,\r\n\r\nAnd merchants with their precious things\r\n\r\nWith banners o'er her roofs that play,\r\n\r\nAnd weapons that a hundred slay;68<\/a>\r\n\r\nAll warlike engines framed by man,\r\n\r\nAnd every class of artisan.\r\n\r\nA city rich beyond compare\r\n\r\nWith bards and minstrels gathered there,\r\n\r\nAnd men and damsels who entrance\r\n\r\nThe soul with play and song and dance.\r\n\r\nIn every street is heard the lute,\r\n\r\nThe drum, the tabret, and the flute,\r\n\r\nThe Veda chanted soft and low,\r\n\r\nThe ringing of the archer's bow;\r\n\r\nWith bands of godlike heroes skilled\r\n\r\nIn every warlike weapon, filled,\r\n\r\nAnd kept by warriors from the foe,\r\n\r\nAs N\u00e1gas guard their home below.69<\/a>\r\n\r\nThere wisest Br\u00e1hmans evermore\r\n\r\nThe flame of worship feed,\r\n\r\nAnd versed in all the Vedas' lore,\r\n\r\nTheir lives of virtue lead.\r\n\r\nTruthful and pure, they freely give;\r\n\r\nThey keep each sense controlled,\r\n\r\nAnd in their holy fervour live\r\n\r\nLike the great saints of old.\r\n\r\nCanto VI. The King.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nThere reigned a king of name revered,\r\n\r\nTo country and to town endeared,\r\n\r\nGreat Da\u015baratha, good and sage,\r\n\r\nWell read in Scripture's holy page:\r\n\r\n[pg 013]\r\n\r\nUpon his kingdom's weal intent,\r\n\r\nMighty and brave and provident;\r\n\r\nThe pride of old Ikshv\u00e1ku's seed\r\n\r\nFor lofty thought and righteous deed.\r\n\r\nPeer of the saints, for virtues famed,\r\n\r\nFor foes subdued and passions tamed:\r\n\r\nA rival in his wealth untold\r\n\r\nOf Indra and the Lord of Gold.\r\n\r\nLike Manu first of kings, he reigned,\r\n\r\nAnd worthily his state maintained.\r\n\r\nFor firm and just and ever true\r\n\r\nLove, duty, gain he kept in view,\r\n\r\nAnd ruled his city rich and free,\r\n\r\nLike Indra's Amar\u00e1vat\u00ed.\r\n\r\nAnd worthy of so fair a place\r\n\r\nThere dwelt a just and happy race\r\n\r\nWith troops of children blest.\r\n\r\nEach man contented sought no more,\r\n\r\nNor longed with envy for the store\r\n\r\nBy richer friends possessed.\r\n\r\nFor poverty was there unknown,\r\n\r\nAnd each man counted as his own\r\n\r\nKine, steeds, and gold, and grain.\r\n\r\nAll dressed in raiment bright and clean,\r\n\r\nAnd every townsman might be seen\r\n\r\nWith earrings, wreath, or chain.\r\n\r\nNone deigned to feed on broken fare,\r\n\r\nAnd none was false or stingy there.\r\n\r\nA piece of gold, the smallest pay,\r\n\r\nWas earned by labour for a day.\r\n\r\nOn every arm were bracelets worn,\r\n\r\nAnd none was faithless or forsworn,\r\n\r\nA braggart or unkind.\r\n\r\nNone lived upon another's wealth,\r\n\r\nNone pined with dread or broken health,\r\n\r\nOr dark disease of mind.\r\n\r\nHigh-souled were all. The slanderous word,\r\n\r\nThe boastful lie, were never heard.\r\n\r\nEach man was constant to his vows,\r\n\r\nAnd lived devoted to his spouse.\r\n\r\nNo other love his fancy knew,\r\n\r\nAnd she was tender, kind, and true.\r\n\r\nHer dames were fair of form and face,\r\n\r\nWith charm of wit and gentle grace,\r\n\r\nWith modest raiment simply neat,\r\n\r\nAnd winning manners soft and sweet.\r\n\r\nThe twice-born sages, whose delight\r\n\r\nWas Scripture's page and holy rite,\r\n\r\nTheir calm and settled course pursued,\r\n\r\nNor sought the menial multitude.\r\n\r\nIn many a Scripture each was versed,\r\n\r\nAnd each the flame of worship nursed,\r\n\r\nAnd gave with lavish hand.\r\n\r\nEach paid to Heaven the offerings due,\r\n\r\nAnd none was godless or untrue\r\n\r\nIn all that holy band.\r\n\r\nTo Br\u00e1hmans, as the laws ordain,\r\n\r\nThe Warrior caste were ever fain\r\n\r\nThe reverence due to pay;\r\n\r\nAnd these the Vai\u015byas' peaceful crowd,\r\n\r\nWho trade and toil for gain, were proud\r\n\r\nTo honour and obey;\r\n\r\nAnd all were by the \u015a\u00fadras70<\/a> served,\r\n\r\nWho never from their duty swerved,\r\n\r\nTheir proper worship all addressed\r\n\r\nTo Br\u00e1hman, spirits, God, and guest.\r\n\r\nPure and unmixt their rites remained,\r\n\r\nTheir race's honour ne'er was stained.71<\/a>\r\n\r\nCheered by his grandsons, sons, and wife,\r\n\r\nEach passed a long and happy life.\r\n\r\nThus was that famous city held\r\n\r\nBy one who all his race excelled,\r\n\r\nBlest in his gentle reign,\r\n\r\nAs the whole land aforetime swayed\r\n\r\nBy Manu, prince of men, obeyed\r\n\r\nHer king from main to main.\r\n\r\nAnd heroes kept her, strong and brave,\r\n\r\nAs lions guard their mountain cave:\r\n\r\nFierce as devouring flame they burned,\r\n\r\nAnd fought till death, but never turned.\r\n\r\nHorses had she of noblest breed,\r\n\r\nLike Indra's for their form and speed,\r\n\r\nFrom V\u00e1hl\u00ed's72<\/a> hills and Sindhu's73<\/a> sand,\r\n\r\nVan\u00e1yu74<\/a> and K\u00e1mboja's land.75<\/a>\r\n\r\n[pg 014]\r\n\r\nHer noble elephants had strayed\r\n\r\nThrough Vindhyan and Him\u00e1layan shade,\r\n\r\nGigantic in their bulk and height,\r\n\r\nYet gentle in their matchless might.\r\n\r\nThey rivalled well the world-spread fame\r\n\r\nOf the great stock from which they came,\r\n\r\nOf V\u00e1man, vast of size,\r\n\r\nOf Mah\u00e1padma's glorious line,\r\n\r\nThine, Anjan, and, Air\u00e1vat, thine.76<\/a>\r\n\r\nUpholders of the skies.\r\n\r\nWith those, enrolled in fourfold class,\r\n\r\nWho all their mighty kin surpass,\r\n\r\nWhom men Matangas name,\r\n\r\nAnd Mrigas spotted black and white,\r\n\r\nAnd Bhadras of unwearied might,\r\n\r\nAnd Mandras hard to tame.77<\/a>\r\n\r\nThus, worthy of the name she bore,78<\/a>\r\n\r\nAyodhy\u00e1 for a league or more\r\n\r\nCast a bright glory round,\r\n\r\nWhere Da\u015baratha wise and great\r\n\r\nGoverned his fair ancestral state,\r\n\r\nWith every virtue crowned.\r\n\r\nLike Indra in the skies he reigned\r\n\r\nIn that good town whose wall contained\r\n\r\nHigh domes and turrets proud,\r\n\r\nWith gates and arcs of triumph decked,\r\n\r\nAnd sturdy barriers to protect\r\n\r\nHer gay and countless crowd.\r\n\r\nCanto VII. The Ministers.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nTwo sages, holy saints, had he,\r\n\r\nHis ministers and priests to be:\r\n\r\nVa\u015bish\u1e6dha, faithful to advise,\r\n\r\nAnd V\u00e1madeva, Scripture-wise.\r\n\r\nEight other lords around him stood,\r\n\r\nAll skilled to counsel, wise and good:\r\n\r\nJayanta, Vijay, Dhrish\u1e6di bold\r\n\r\nIn fight, affairs of war controlled:\r\n\r\nSiddh\u00e1rth and Arthas\u00e1dhak true\r\n\r\nWatched o'er expense and revenue,\r\n\r\nAnd Dharmap\u00e1l and wise A\u015bok\r\n\r\nOf right and law and justice spoke.\r\n\r\nWith these the sage Sumantra, skilled\r\n\r\nTo urge the car, high station filled.\r\n\r\nAll these in knowledge duly trained\r\n\r\nEach passion and each sense restrained:\r\n\r\nWith modest manners, nobly bred\r\n\r\nEach plan and nod and look they read,\r\n\r\nUpon their neighbours' good intent,\r\n\r\nMost active and benevolent:\r\n\r\nAs sit the Vasus79<\/a> round their king,\r\n\r\nThey sate around him counselling.\r\n\r\nThey ne'er in virtue's loftier pride\r\n\r\nAnother's lowly gifts decried.\r\n\r\nIn fair and seemly garb arrayed,\r\n\r\nNo weak uncertain plans they made.\r\n\r\nWell skilled in business, fair and just,\r\n\r\nThey gained the people's love and trust,\r\n\r\nAnd thus without oppression stored\r\n\r\nThe swelling treasury of their lord.\r\n\r\nBound in sweet friendship each to each,\r\n\r\nThey spoke kind thoughts in gentle speech.\r\n\r\nThey looked alike with equal eye\r\n\r\nOn every caste, on low and high.\r\n\r\nDevoted to their king, they sought,\r\n\r\nEre his tongue spoke, to learn his thought,\r\n\r\nAnd knew, as each occasion rose,\r\n\r\nTo hide their counsel or disclose.\r\n\r\nIn foreign lands or in their own\r\n\r\nWhatever passed, to them was known.\r\n\r\nBy secret spies they timely knew\r\n\r\nWhat men were doing or would do.\r\n\r\nSkilled in the grounds of war and peace\r\n\r\nThey saw the monarch's state increase,\r\n\r\nWatching his weal with conquering eye\r\n\r\nThat never let occasion by,\r\n\r\nWhile nature lent her aid to bless\r\n\r\nTheir labours with unbought success.\r\n\r\nNever for anger, lust, or gain,\r\n\r\nWould they their lips with falsehood stain.\r\n\r\nInclined to mercy they could scan\r\n\r\nThe weakness and the strength of man.\r\n\r\nThey fairly judged both high and low,\r\n\r\nAnd ne'er would wrong a guiltless foe;\r\n\r\nYet if a fault were proved, each one\r\n\r\nWould punish e'en his own dear son.\r\n\r\nBut there and in the kingdom's bound\r\n\r\nNo thief or man impure was found:\r\n\r\nNone of loose life or evil fame,\r\n\r\nNo tempter of another's dame.\r\n\r\nContented with their lot each caste\r\n\r\n[pg 015]\r\n\r\nCalm days in blissful quiet passed;\r\n\r\nAnd, all in fitting tasks employed,\r\n\r\nCountry and town deep rest enjoyed,\r\n\r\nWith these wise lords around his throne\r\n\r\nThe monarch justly reigned,\r\n\r\nAnd making every heart his own\r\n\r\nThe love of all men gained.\r\n\r\nWith trusty agents, as beseems,\r\n\r\nEach distant realm he scanned,\r\n\r\nAs the sun visits with his beams\r\n\r\nEach corner of the land.\r\n\r\nNe'er would he on a mightier foe\r\n\r\nWith hostile troops advance,\r\n\r\nNor at an equal strike a blow\r\n\r\nIn war's delusive chance.\r\n\r\nThese lords in council bore their part\r\n\r\nWith ready brain and faithful heart,\r\n\r\nWith skill and knowledge, sense and tact,\r\n\r\nGood to advise and bold to act.\r\n\r\nAnd high and endless fame he won\r\n\r\nWith these to guide his schemes,\r\n\r\nAs, risen in his might, the sun\r\n\r\nWins glory with his beams.\r\n\r\nCanto VIII. Sumantra's Speech.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nBut splendid, just, and great of mind,\r\n\r\nThe childless king for offspring pined.\r\n\r\nNo son had he his name to grace,\r\n\r\nTransmitter of his royal race.\r\n\r\nLong had his anxious bosom wrought,\r\n\r\nAnd as he pondered rose the thought:\r\n\r\n\u201cA votive steed 'twere good to slay,\r\n\r\nSo might a son the gift repay.\u201d\r\n\r\nBefore his lords his plan he laid,\r\n\r\nAnd bade them with their wisdom aid:\r\n\r\nThen with these words Sumantra, best\r\n\r\nOf royal counsellors, addressed:\r\n\r\n\u201cHither, Va\u015bish\u1e6dha at their head,\r\n\r\nLet all my priestly guides be led.\u201d\r\n\r\nTo him Sumantra made reply:\r\n\r\n\u201cHear, Sire, a tale of days gone by.\r\n\r\nTo many a sage in time of old,\r\n\r\nSanatkum\u00e1r, the saint, foretold\r\n\r\nHow from thine ancient line, O King,\r\n\r\nA son, when years came round, should spring.\r\n\r\n\u201cHere dwells,\u201d 'twas thus the seer began,\r\n\r\n\u201cOf Ka\u015byap's80<\/a> race, a holy man,\r\n\r\nVibh\u00e1\u1e47dak named: to him shall spring\r\n\r\nA son, the famous Rishya\u015bring.\r\n\r\nBred with the deer that round him roam,\r\n\r\nThe wood shall be that hermit's home.\r\n\r\nTo him no mortal shall be known\r\n\r\nExcept his holy sire alone.\r\n\r\nStill by those laws shall he abide\r\n\r\nWhich lives of youthful Br\u00e1hmans guide,\r\n\r\nObedient to the strictest rule\r\n\r\nThat forms the young ascetic's school:\r\n\r\nAnd all the wondering world shall hear\r\n\r\nOf his stern life and penance drear;\r\n\r\nHis care to nurse the holy fire\r\n\r\nAnd do the bidding of his sire.\r\n\r\nThen, seated on the Angas'81<\/a> throne,\r\n\r\nShall Lomap\u00e1d to fame be known.\r\n\r\nBut folly wrought by that great king\r\n\r\nA plague upon the land shall bring;\r\n\r\nNo rain for many a year shall fall\r\n\r\nAnd grievous drought shall ruin all.\r\n\r\nThe troubled king with many a prayer\r\n\r\nShall bid the priests some cure declare:\r\n\r\n\u201cThe lore of Heaven 'tis yours to know,\r\n\r\nNor are ye blind to things below:\r\n\r\nDeclare, O holy men, the way\r\n\r\nThis plague to expiate and stay.\u201d\r\n\r\nThose best of Br\u00e1hmans shall reply:\r\n\r\n\u201cBy every art, O Monarch, try\r\n\r\nHither to bring Vibh\u00e1\u1e47dak's child,\r\n\r\nPersuaded, captured, or beguiled.\r\n\r\nAnd when the boy is hither led\r\n\r\nTo him thy daughter duly wed.\u201d\r\n\r\nBut how to bring that wondrous boy\r\n\r\nHis troubled thoughts will long employ,\r\n\r\nAnd hopeless to achieve the task\r\n\r\nHe counsel of his lords will ask,\r\n\r\nAnd bid his priests and servants bring\r\n\r\nWith honour saintly Rishya\u015bring.\r\n\r\nBut when they hear the monarch's speech,\r\n\r\nAll these their master will beseech,\r\n\r\nWith trembling hearts and looks of woe,\r\n\r\nTo spare them, for they fear to go.\r\n\r\nAnd many a plan will they declare\r\n\r\nAnd crafty plots will frame,\r\n\r\nAnd promise fair to show him there,\r\n\r\nUnforced, with none to blame.\r\n\r\nOn every word his lords shall say,\r\n\r\nThe king will meditate,\r\n\r\nAnd on the third returning day\r\n\r\nRecall them to debate.\r\n\r\nThen this shall be the plan agreed,\r\n\r\nThat damsels shall be sent\r\n\r\nAttired in holy hermits' weed,\r\n\r\nAnd skilled in blandishment,\r\n\r\nThat they the hermit may beguile\r\n\r\nWith every art and amorous wile\r\n\r\n[pg 016]\r\n\r\nWhose use they know so well,\r\n\r\nAnd by their witcheries seduce\r\n\r\nThe unsuspecting young recluse\r\n\r\nTo leave his father's cell.\r\n\r\nThen when the boy with willing feet\r\n\r\nShall wander from his calm retreat\r\n\r\nAnd in that city stand,\r\n\r\nThe troubles of the king shall end,\r\n\r\nAnd streams of blessed rain descend\r\n\r\nUpon the thirsty land.\r\n\r\nThus shall the holy Rishya\u015bring\r\n\r\nTo Lomap\u00e1d, the mighty king,\r\n\r\nBy wedlock be allied;\r\n\r\nFor \u015a\u00e1nt\u00e1, fairest of the fair,\r\n\r\nIn mind and grace beyond compare,\r\n\r\nShall be his royal bride.\r\n\r\nHe, at the Offering of the Steed,\r\n\r\nThe flames with holy oil shall feed,\r\n\r\nAnd for King Da\u015baratha gain\r\n\r\nSons whom his prayers have begged in vain.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI have repeated, Sire, thus far,\r\n\r\nThe words of old Sanatkum\u00e1r,\r\n\r\nIn order as he spoke them then\r\n\r\nAmid the crowd of holy men.\u201d\r\n\r\nThen Da\u015baratha cried with joy,\r\n\r\n\u201cSay how they brought the hermit boy.\u201d\r\n\r\nCanto IX. Rishyasring.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nThe wise Sumantra, thus addressed,\r\n\r\nUnfolded at the king's behest\r\n\r\nThe plan the lords in council laid\r\n\r\nTo draw the hermit from the shade:\r\n\r\n\u201cThe priest, amid the lordly crowd,\r\n\r\nTo Lomap\u00e1d thus spoke aloud:\r\n\r\n\u201cHear, King, the plot our thoughts have framed,\r\n\r\nA harmless trick by all unblamed.\r\n\r\nFar from the world that hermit's child\r\n\r\nLives lonely in the distant wild:\r\n\r\nA stranger to the joys of sense,\r\n\r\nHis bliss is pain and abstinence;\r\n\r\nAnd all unknown are women yet\r\n\r\nTo him, a holy anchoret.\r\n\r\nThe gentle passions we will wake\r\n\r\nThat with resistless influence shake\r\n\r\nThe hearts of men; and he\r\n\r\nDrawn by enchantment strong and sweet\r\n\r\nShall follow from his lone retreat,\r\n\r\nAnd come and visit thee.\r\n\r\nLet ships be formed with utmost care\r\n\r\nThat artificial trees may bear,\r\n\r\nAnd sweet fruit deftly made;\r\n\r\nLet goodly raiment, rich and rare,\r\n\r\nAnd flowers, and many a bird be there\r\n\r\nBeneath the leafy shade.\r\n\r\nUpon the ships thus decked a band\r\n\r\nOf young and lovely girls shall stand,\r\n\r\nRich in each charm that wakes desire,\r\n\r\nAnd eyes that burn with amorous fire;\r\n\r\nWell skilled to sing, and play, and dance\r\n\r\nAnd ply their trade with smile and glance\r\n\r\nLet these, attired in hermits' dress,\r\n\r\nBetake them to the wilderness,\r\n\r\nAnd bring the boy of life austere\r\n\r\nA voluntary captive here.\u201d\r\n\r\nHe ended; and the king agreed,\r\n\r\nBy the priest's counsel won.\r\n\r\nAnd all the ministers took heed\r\n\r\nTo see his bidding done.\r\n\r\nIn ships with wondrous art prepared\r\n\r\nAway the lovely women fared,\r\n\r\nAnd soon beneath the shade they stood\r\n\r\nOf the wild, lonely, dreary wood.\r\n\r\nAnd there the leafy cot they found\r\n\r\nWhere dwelt the devotee,\r\n\r\nAnd looked with eager eyes around\r\n\r\nThe hermit's son to see.\r\n\r\nStill, of Vibh\u00e1\u1e47dak sore afraid,\r\n\r\nThey hid behind the creepers' shade.\r\n\r\nBut when by careful watch they knew\r\n\r\nThe elder saint was far from view,\r\n\r\nWith bolder steps they ventured nigh\r\n\r\nTo catch the youthful hermit's eye.\r\n\r\nThen all the damsels, blithe and gay,\r\n\r\nAt various games began to play.\r\n\r\nThey tossed the flying ball about\r\n\r\nWith dance and song and merry shout,\r\n\r\nAnd moved, their scented tresses bound\r\n\r\nWith wreaths, in mazy motion round.\r\n\r\nSome girls as if by love possessed,\r\n\r\nSank to the earth in feigned unrest,\r\n\r\nUp starting quickly to pursue\r\n\r\nTheir intermitted game anew.\r\n\r\nIt was a lovely sight to see\r\n\r\nThose fair ones, as they played,\r\n\r\nWhile fragrant robes were floating free,\r\n\r\nAnd bracelets clashing in their glee\r\n\r\nA pleasant tinkling made.\r\n\r\nThe anklet's chime, the Ko\u00efl's82<\/a> cry\r\n\r\nWith music filled the place\r\n\r\nAs 'twere some city in the sky\r\n\r\nWhich heavenly minstrels grace.\r\n\r\nWith each voluptuous art they strove\r\n\r\nTo win the tenant of the grove,\r\n\r\nAnd with their graceful forms inspire\r\n\r\nHis modest soul with soft desire.\r\n\r\nWith arch of brow, with beck and smile,\r\n\r\nWith every passion-waking wile\r\n\r\n[pg 017]\r\n\r\nOf glance and lotus hand,\r\n\r\nWith all enticements that excite\r\n\r\nThe longing for unknown delight\r\n\r\nWhich boys in vain withstand.\r\n\r\nForth came the hermit's son to view\r\n\r\nThe wondrous sight to him so new,\r\n\r\nAnd gazed in rapt surprise,\r\n\r\nFor from his natal hour till then\r\n\r\nOn woman or the sons of men\r\n\r\nHe ne'er had cast his eyes.\r\n\r\nHe saw them with their waists so slim,\r\n\r\nWith fairest shape and faultless limb,\r\n\r\nIn variegated robes arrayed,\r\n\r\nAnd sweetly singing as they played.\r\n\r\nNear and more near the hermit drew,\r\n\r\nAnd watched them at their game,\r\n\r\nAnd stronger still the impulse grew\r\n\r\nTo question whence they came.\r\n\r\nThey marked the young ascetic gaze\r\n\r\nWith curious eye and wild amaze,\r\n\r\nAnd sweet the long-eyed damsels sang,\r\n\r\nAnd shrill their merry laughter rang.\r\n\r\nThen came they nearer to his side,\r\n\r\nAnd languishing with passion cried:\r\n\r\n\u201cWhose son, O youth, and who art thou,\r\n\r\nCome suddenly to join us now?\r\n\r\nAnd why dost thou all lonely dwell\r\n\r\nIn the wild wood? We pray thee, tell,\r\n\r\nWe wish to know thee, gentle youth;\r\n\r\nCome, tell us, if thou wilt, the truth.\u201d\r\n\r\nHe gazed upon that sight he ne'er\r\n\r\nHad seen before, of girls so fair,\r\n\r\nAnd out of love a longing rose\r\n\r\nHis sire and lineage to disclose:\r\n\r\n\u201cMy father,\u201d thus he made reply,\r\n\r\n\u201cIs Ka\u015byap's son, a saint most high,\r\n\r\nVibh\u00e1\u1e47dak styled; from him I came,\r\n\r\nAnd Rishya\u015bring he calls my name.\r\n\r\nOur hermit cot is near this place:\r\n\r\nCome thither, O ye fair of face;\r\n\r\nThere be it mine, with honour due,\r\n\r\nYe gentle youths, to welcome you.\u201d\r\n\r\nThey heard his speech, and gave consent,\r\n\r\nAnd gladly to his cottage went.\r\n\r\nVibh\u00e1\u1e47dak's son received them well\r\n\r\nBeneath the shelter of his cell\r\n\r\nWith guest-gift, water for their feet,\r\n\r\nAnd woodland fruit and roots to eat,\r\n\r\nThey smiled, and spoke sweet words like these,\r\n\r\nDelighted with his courtesies:\r\n\r\n\u201cWe too have goodly fruit in store,\r\n\r\nGrown on the trees that shade our door;\r\n\r\nCome, if thou wilt, kind Hermit, haste\r\n\r\nThe produce of our grove to taste;\r\n\r\nAnd let, O good Ascetic, first\r\n\r\nThis holy water quench thy thirst.\u201d\r\n\r\nThey spoke, and gave him comfits sweet\r\n\r\nPrepared ripe fruits to counterfeit;\r\n\r\nAnd many a dainty cate beside\r\n\r\nAnd luscious mead their stores supplied.\r\n\r\nThe seeming fruits, in taste and look,\r\n\r\nThe unsuspecting hermit took,\r\n\r\nFor, strange to him, their form beguiled\r\n\r\nThe dweller in the lonely wild.\r\n\r\nThen round his neck fair arms were flung,\r\n\r\nAnd there the laughing damsels clung,\r\n\r\nAnd pressing nearer and more near\r\n\r\nWith sweet lips whispered at his ear;\r\n\r\nWhile rounded limb and swelling breast\r\n\r\nThe youthful hermit softly pressed.\r\n\r\nThe pleasing charm of that strange bowl,\r\n\r\nThe touch of a tender limb,\r\n\r\nOver his yielding spirit stole\r\n\r\nAnd sweetly vanquished him.\r\n\r\nBut vows, they said, must now be paid;\r\n\r\nThey bade the boy farewell,\r\n\r\nAnd, of the aged saint afraid,\r\n\r\nPrepared to leave the dell.\r\n\r\nWith ready guile they told him where\r\n\r\nTheir hermit dwelling lay:\r\n\r\nThen, lest the sire should find them there,\r\n\r\nSped by wild paths away.\r\n\r\nThey fled and left him there alone\r\n\r\nBy longing love possessed;\r\n\r\nAnd with a heart no more his own\r\n\r\nHe roamed about distressed.\r\n\r\nThe aged saint came home, to find\r\n\r\nThe hermit boy distraught,\r\n\r\nRevolving in his troubled mind\r\n\r\nOne solitary thought.\r\n\r\n\u201cWhy dost thou not, my son,\u201d he cried,\r\n\r\n\u201cThy due obeisance pay?\r\n\r\nWhy do I see thee in the tide\r\n\r\nOf whelming thought to-day?\r\n\r\nA devotee should never wear\r\n\r\nA mien so sad and strange.\r\n\r\nCome, quickly, dearest child, declare\r\n\r\nThe reason of the change.\u201d\r\n\r\nAnd Rishya\u015bring, when questioned thus,\r\n\r\nMade answer in this wise:\r\n\r\n\u201cO sire, there came to visit us\r\n\r\nSome men with lovely eyes.\r\n\r\nAbout my neck soft arms they wound\r\n\r\nAnd kept me tightly held\r\n\r\nTo tender breasts so soft and round,\r\n\r\nThat strangely heaved and swelled.\r\n\r\nThey sing more sweetly as they dance\r\n\r\nThan e'er I heard till now,\r\n\r\nAnd play with many a sidelong glance\r\n\r\nAnd arching of the brow.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cMy son,\u201d said he, \u201cthus giants roam\r\n\r\nWhere holy hermits are,\r\n\r\nAnd wander round their peaceful home\r\n\r\nTheir rites austere to mar.\r\n\r\nI charge thee, thou must never lay\r\n\r\nThy trust in them, dear boy:\r\n\r\nThey seek thee only to betray,\r\n\r\nAnd woo but to destroy.\u201d\r\n\r\nThus having warned him of his foes\r\n\r\nThat night at home he spent.\r\n\r\nAnd when the morrow's sun arose\r\n\r\n[pg 018]\r\n\r\nForth to the forest went.\r\n\r\nBut Rishya\u015bring with eager pace\r\n\r\nSped forth and hurried to the place\r\n\r\nWhere he those visitants had seen\r\n\r\nOf daintly waist and charming mien.\r\n\r\nWhen from afar they saw the son\r\n\r\nOf Saint Vibh\u00e1\u1e47dak toward them run,\r\n\r\nTo meet the hermit boy they hied,\r\n\r\nAnd hailed him with a smile, and cried:\r\n\r\n\u201cO come, we pray, dear lord, behold\r\n\r\nOur lovely home of which we told\r\n\r\nDue honour there to thee we'll pay,\r\n\r\nAnd speed thee on thy homeward way.\u201d\r\n\r\nPleased with the gracious words they said\r\n\r\nHe followed where the damsels led.\r\n\r\nAs with his guides his steps he bent,\r\n\r\nThat Br\u00e1hman high of worth,\r\n\r\nA flood of rain from heaven was sent\r\n\r\nThat gladdened all the earth.\r\n\r\nVibh\u00e1\u1e47dak took his homeward road,\r\n\r\nAnd wearied by the heavy load\r\n\r\nOf roots and woodland fruit he bore\r\n\r\nEntered at last his cottage door.\r\n\r\nFain for his son he looked around,\r\n\r\nBut desolate the cell he found.\r\n\r\nHe stayed not then to bathe his feet,\r\n\r\nThough fainting with the toil and heat,\r\n\r\nBut hurried forth and roamed about\r\n\r\nCalling the boy with cry and shout,\r\n\r\nHe searched the wood, but all in vain;\r\n\r\nNor tidings of his son could gain.\r\n\r\nOne day beyond the forest's bound\r\n\r\nThe wandering saint a village found,\r\n\r\nAnd asked the swains and neatherds there\r\n\r\nWho owned the land so rich and fair,\r\n\r\nWith all the hamlets of the plain,\r\n\r\nAnd herds of kine and fields of grain.\r\n\r\nThey listened to the hermit's words,\r\n\r\nAnd all the guardians of the herds,\r\n\r\nWith suppliant hands together pressed,\r\n\r\nThis answer to the saint addressed:\r\n\r\n\u201cThe Angas' lord who bears the name\r\n\r\nOf Lomap\u00e1d, renowned by fame,\r\n\r\nBestowed these hamlets with their kine\r\n\r\nAnd all their riches, as a sign\r\n\r\nOf grace, on Rishya\u015bring: and he\r\n\r\nVibh\u00e1\u1e47dak's son is said to be.\u201d\r\n\r\nThe hermit with exulting breast\r\n\r\nThe mighty will of fate confessed,\r\n\r\nBy meditation's eye discerned;\r\n\r\nAnd cheerful to his home returned.\r\n\r\nA stately ship, at early morn,\r\n\r\nThe hermit's son away had borne.\r\n\r\nLoud roared the clouds, as on he sped,\r\n\r\nThe sky grew blacker overhead;\r\n\r\nTill, as he reached the royal town,\r\n\r\nA mighty flood of rain came down.\r\n\r\nBy the great rain the monarch's mind\r\n\r\nThe coming of his guest divined.\r\n\r\nTo meet the honoured youth he went,\r\n\r\nAnd low to earth his head he bent.\r\n\r\nWith his own priest to lead the train,\r\n\r\nHe gave the gift high guests obtain.\r\n\r\nAnd sought, with all who dwelt within\r\n\r\nThe city walls, his grace to win.\r\n\r\nHe fed him with the daintiest fare,\r\n\r\nHe served him with unceasing care,\r\n\r\nAnd ministered with anxious eyes\r\n\r\nLest anger in his breast should rise;\r\n\r\nAnd gave to be the Br\u00e1hman's bride\r\n\r\nHis own fair daughter, lotus-eyed.\r\n\r\nThus loved and honoured by the king,\r\n\r\nThe glorious Br\u00e1hman Rishya\u015bring\r\n\r\nPassed in that royal town his life\r\n\r\nWith \u015a\u00e1nt\u00e1 his beloved wife.\u201d\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>","rendered":"
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Invocation.1<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Praise to V\u00e1lm\u00edki,2<\/a>bird of charming song,3<\/a><\/p>\n

Who mounts on Poesy’s sublimest spray,<\/p>\n

And sweetly sings with accent clear and strong<\/p>\n

R\u00e1ma, aye R\u00e1ma, in his deathless lay.<\/p>\n

Where breathes the man can listen to the strain<\/p>\n

That flows in music from V\u00e1lm\u00edki’s tongue,<\/p>\n

Nor feel his feet the path of bliss attain<\/p>\n

When R\u00e1ma’s glory by the saint is sung!<\/p>\n

The stream R\u00e1m\u00e1yan leaves its sacred fount<\/p>\n

The whole wide world from sin and stain to free.4<\/a><\/p>\n

The Prince of Hermits is the parent mount,<\/p>\n

The lordly R\u00e1ma is the darling sea.<\/p>\n

Glory to him whose fame is ever bright!<\/p>\n

Glory to him, Prachetas’5<\/a>holy son!<\/p>\n

Whose pure lips quaff with ever new delight<\/p>\n

The nectar-sea of deeds by R\u00e1ma done.<\/p>\n

Hail, arch-ascetic, pious, good, and kind!<\/p>\n

Hail, Saint V\u00e1lm\u00edki, lord of every lore!<\/p>\n

Hail, holy Hermit, calm and pure of mind!<\/p>\n

Hail, First of Bards, V\u00e1lm\u00edki, hail once more!<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Book I.6<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Canto I. N\u00e1rad.7<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

OM.8<\/a><\/p>\n

To sainted N\u00e1rad, prince of those<\/p>\n

Whose lore in words of wisdom flows.<\/p>\n

Whose constant care and chief delight<\/p>\n

Were Scripture and ascetic rite,<\/p>\n

The good V\u00e1lm\u00edki, first and best<\/p>\n

[pg 002]<\/p>\n

Of hermit saints, these words addressed:9<\/a><\/p>\n

\u201cIn all this world, I pray thee, who<\/p>\n

Is virtuous, heroic, true?<\/p>\n

Firm in his vows, of grateful mind,<\/p>\n

To every creature good and kind?<\/p>\n

Bounteous, and holy, just, and wise,<\/p>\n

Alone most fair to all men’s eyes?<\/p>\n

Devoid of envy, firm, and sage,<\/p>\n

Whose tranquil soul ne’er yields to rage?<\/p>\n

Whom, when his warrior wrath is high,<\/p>\n

Do Gods embattled fear and fly?<\/p>\n

Whose noble might and gentle skill<\/p>\n

The triple world can guard from ill?<\/p>\n

Who is the best of princes, he<\/p>\n

Who loves his people’s good to see?<\/p>\n

The store of bliss, the living mine<\/p>\n

Where brightest joys and virtues shine?<\/p>\n

Queen Fortune’s10<\/a> best and dearest friend,<\/p>\n

Whose steps her choicest gifts attend?<\/p>\n

Who may with Sun and Moon compare,<\/p>\n

With Indra,11<\/a> Vish\u1e47u,12<\/a> Fire, and Air?<\/p>\n

Grant, Saint divine,13<\/a> the boon I ask,<\/p>\n

For thee, I ween, an easy task,<\/p>\n

To whom the power is given to know<\/p>\n

If such a man breathe here below.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then N\u00e1rad, clear before whose eye<\/p>\n

The present, past, and future lie,14<\/a><\/p>\n

Made ready answer: \u201cHermit, where<\/p>\n

Are graces found so high and rare?<\/p>\n

Yet listen, and my tongue shall tell<\/p>\n

In whom alone these virtues dwell.<\/p>\n

From old Ikshv\u00e1ku’s15<\/a> line he came,<\/p>\n

Known to the world by R\u00e1ma’s name:<\/p>\n

With soul subdued, a chief of might,<\/p>\n

In Scripture versed, in glory bright,<\/p>\n

His steps in virtue’s paths are bent,<\/p>\n

Obedient, pure, and eloquent.<\/p>\n

In each emprise he wins success,<\/p>\n

And dying foes his power confess.<\/p>\n

Tall and broad-shouldered, strong of limb,<\/p>\n

Fortune has set her mark on him.<\/p>\n

Graced with a conch-shell’s triple line,<\/p>\n

His throat displays the auspicious sign.16<\/a><\/p>\n

[pg 003]<\/p>\n

High destiny is clear impressed<\/p>\n

On massive jaw and ample chest,<\/p>\n

His mighty shafts he truly aims,<\/p>\n

And foemen in the battle tames.<\/p>\n

Deep in the muscle, scarcely shown,<\/p>\n

Embedded lies his collar-bone.<\/p>\n

His lordly steps are firm and free,<\/p>\n

His strong arms reach below his knee;17<\/a><\/p>\n

All fairest graces join to deck<\/p>\n

His head, his brow, his stately neck,<\/p>\n

And limbs in fair proportion set:<\/p>\n

The manliest form e’er fashioned yet.<\/p>\n

Graced with each high imperial mark,<\/p>\n

His skin is soft and lustrous dark.<\/p>\n

Large are his eyes that sweetly shine<\/p>\n

With majesty almost divine.<\/p>\n

His plighted word he ne’er forgets;<\/p>\n

On erring sense a watch he sets.<\/p>\n

By nature wise, his teacher’s skill<\/p>\n

Has trained him to subdue his will.<\/p>\n

Good, resolute and pure, and strong,<\/p>\n

He guards mankind from scathe and wrong,<\/p>\n

And lends his aid, and ne’er in vain,<\/p>\n

The cause of justice to maintain.<\/p>\n

Well has he studied o’er and o’er<\/p>\n

The Vedas18<\/a>and their kindred lore.<\/p>\n

Well skilled is he the bow to draw,19<\/a><\/p>\n

Well trained in arts and versed in law;<\/p>\n

High-souled and meet for happy fate,<\/p>\n

Most tender and compassionate;<\/p>\n

The noblest of all lordly givers,<\/p>\n

Whom good men follow, as the rivers<\/p>\n

Follow the King of Floods, the sea:<\/p>\n

So liberal, so just is he.<\/p>\n

The joy of Queen Kau\u015baly\u00e1’s20<\/a>heart,<\/p>\n

In every virtue he has part:<\/p>\n

Firm as Him\u00e1laya’s21<\/a> snowy steep,<\/p>\n

Unfathomed like the mighty deep:<\/p>\n

The peer of Vish\u1e47u’s power and might,<\/p>\n

And lovely as the Lord of Night;22<\/a><\/p>\n

Patient as Earth, but, roused to ire,<\/p>\n

Fierce as the world-destroying fire;<\/p>\n

In bounty like the Lord of Gold,23<\/a><\/p>\n

And Justice self in human mould.<\/p>\n

With him, his best and eldest son,<\/p>\n

By all his princely virtues won<\/p>\n

King Da\u015baratha24<\/a> willed to share<\/p>\n

His kingdom as the Regent Heir.<\/p>\n

But when Kaikey\u00ed, youngest queen,<\/p>\n

With eyes of envious hate had seen<\/p>\n

The solemn pomp and regal state<\/p>\n

Prepared the prince to consecrate,<\/p>\n

She bade the hapless king bestow<\/p>\n

Two gifts he promised long ago,<\/p>\n

That R\u00e1ma to the woods should flee,<\/p>\n

And that her child the heir should be.<\/p>\n

By chains of duty firmly tied,<\/p>\n

The wretched king perforce complied.<\/p>\n

[pg 004]<\/p>\n

R\u00e1ma, to please Kaikey\u00ed went<\/p>\n

Obedient forth to banishment.<\/p>\n

Then Lakshma\u1e47’s truth was nobly shown,<\/p>\n

Then were his love and courage known,<\/p>\n

When for his brother’s sake he dared<\/p>\n

All perils, and his exile shared.<\/p>\n

And S\u00edt\u00e1, R\u00e1ma’s darling wife,<\/p>\n

Loved even as he loved his life,<\/p>\n

Whom happy marks combined to bless,<\/p>\n

A miracle of loveliness,<\/p>\n

Of Janak’s royal lineage sprung,<\/p>\n

Most excellent of women, clung<\/p>\n

To her dear lord, like Rohi\u1e47\u00ed<\/p>\n

Rejoicing with the Moon to be.25<\/a><\/p>\n

The King and people, sad of mood,<\/p>\n

The hero’s car awhile pursued.<\/p>\n

But when Prince R\u00e1ma lighted down<\/p>\n

At \u015aringavera’s pleasant town,<\/p>\n

Where Gang\u00e1’s holy waters flow,<\/p>\n

He bade his driver turn and go.<\/p>\n

Guha, Nish\u00e1das’ king, he met,<\/p>\n

And on the farther bank was set.<\/p>\n

Then on from wood to wood they strayed,<\/p>\n

O’er many a stream, through constant shade,<\/p>\n

As Bharadv\u00e1ja bade them, till<\/p>\n

They came to Chitrak\u00fa\u1e6da’s hill.<\/p>\n

And R\u00e1ma there, with Lakshma\u1e47’s aid,<\/p>\n

A pleasant little cottage made,<\/p>\n

And spent his days with S\u00edt\u00e1, dressed<\/p>\n

In coat of bark and deerskin vest.26<\/a><\/p>\n

And Chitrak\u00fa\u1e6da grew to be<\/p>\n

As bright with those illustrious three<\/p>\n

As Meru’s27<\/a> sacred peaks that shine<\/p>\n

With glory, when the Gods recline<\/p>\n

Beneath them: \u015aiva’s28<\/a> self between<\/p>\n

The Lord of Gold and Beauty’s Queen.<\/p>\n

The aged king for R\u00e1ma pined,<\/p>\n

And for the skies the earth resigned.<\/p>\n

Bharat, his son, refused to reign,<\/p>\n

Though urged by all the twice-born29<\/a> train.<\/p>\n

Forth to the woods he fared to meet<\/p>\n

His brother, fell before his feet,<\/p>\n

And cried, \u201cThy claim all men allow:<\/p>\n

O come, our lord and king be thou.\u201d<\/p>\n

But R\u00e1ma nobly chose to be<\/p>\n

Observant of his sire’s decree.<\/p>\n

He placed his sandals30<\/a> in his hand<\/p>\n

A pledge that he would rule the land:<\/p>\n

And bade his brother turn again.<\/p>\n

Then Bharat, finding prayer was vain,<\/p>\n

The sandals took and went away;<\/p>\n

Nor in Ayodhy\u00e1 would he stay.<\/p>\n

But turned to Nandigr\u00e1ma, where<\/p>\n

He ruled the realm with watchful care,<\/p>\n

Still longing eagerly to learn<\/p>\n

Tidings of R\u00e1ma’s safe return.<\/p>\n

Then lest the people should repeat<\/p>\n

Their visit to his calm retreat,<\/p>\n

Away from Chitrak\u00fa\u1e6da’s hill<\/p>\n

Fared R\u00e1ma ever onward till<\/p>\n

[pg 005]<\/p>\n

Beneath the shady trees he stood<\/p>\n

Of Da\u1e47\u1e0dak\u00e1’s primeval wood,<\/p>\n

Vir\u00e1dha, giant fiend, he slew,<\/p>\n

And then Agastya’s friendship knew.<\/p>\n

Counselled by him he gained the sword<\/p>\n

And bow of Indra, heavenly lord:<\/p>\n

A pair of quivers too, that bore<\/p>\n

Of arrows an exhaustless store.<\/p>\n

While there he dwelt in greenwood shade<\/p>\n

The trembling hermits sought his aid,<\/p>\n

And bade him with his sword and bow<\/p>\n

Destroy the fiends who worked them woe:<\/p>\n

To come like Indra strong and brave,<\/p>\n

A guardian God to help and save.<\/p>\n

And R\u00e1ma’s falchion left its trace<\/p>\n

Deep cut on \u015a\u00farpa\u1e47akh\u00e1’s face:<\/p>\n

A hideous giantess who came<\/p>\n

Burning for him with lawless flame.<\/p>\n

Their sister’s cries the giants heard.<\/p>\n

And vengeance in each bosom stirred:<\/p>\n

The monster of the triple head.<\/p>\n

And D\u00fasha\u1e47 to the contest sped.<\/p>\n

But they and myriad fiends beside<\/p>\n

Beneath the might of R\u00e1ma died.<\/p>\n

When R\u00e1va\u1e47, dreaded warrior, knew<\/p>\n

The slaughter of his giant crew:<\/p>\n

R\u00e1va\u1e47, the king, whose name of fear<\/p>\n

Earth, hell, and heaven all shook to hear:<\/p>\n

He bade the fiend M\u00e1r\u00edcha aid<\/p>\n

The vengeful plot his fury laid.<\/p>\n

In vain the wise M\u00e1r\u00edcha tried<\/p>\n

To turn him from his course aside:<\/p>\n

Not R\u00e1va\u1e47’s self, he said, might hope<\/p>\n

With R\u00e1ma and his strength to cope.<\/p>\n

Impelled by fate and blind with rage<\/p>\n

He came to R\u00e1ma’s hermitage.<\/p>\n

There, by M\u00e1r\u00edcha’s magic art,<\/p>\n

He wiled the princely youths apart,<\/p>\n

The vulture31<\/a> slew, and bore away<\/p>\n

The wife of R\u00e1ma as his prey.<\/p>\n

The son of Raghu32<\/a> came and found<\/p>\n

Ja\u1e6d\u00e1yu slain upon the ground.<\/p>\n

He rushed within his leafy cot;<\/p>\n

He sought his wife, but found her not.<\/p>\n

Then, then the hero’s senses failed;<\/p>\n

In mad despair he wept and wailed.<\/p>\n

Upon the pile that bird he laid,<\/p>\n

And still in quest of S\u00edt\u00e1 strayed.<\/p>\n

A hideous giant then he saw,<\/p>\n

Kabandha named, a shape of awe.<\/p>\n

The monstrous fiend he smote and slew,<\/p>\n

And in the flame the body threw;<\/p>\n

When straight from out the funeral flame<\/p>\n

In lovely form Kabandha came,<\/p>\n

And bade him seek in his distress<\/p>\n

A wise and holy hermitess.<\/p>\n

By counsel of this saintly dame<\/p>\n

To Pamp\u00e1’s pleasant flood he came,<\/p>\n

And there the steadfast friendship won<\/p>\n

Of Hanum\u00e1n the Wind-God’s son.<\/p>\n

Counselled by him he told his grief<\/p>\n

To great Sugr\u00edva, V\u00e1nar chief,<\/p>\n

Who, knowing all the tale, before<\/p>\n

The sacred flame alliance swore.<\/p>\n

Sugr\u00edva to his new-found friend<\/p>\n

Told his own story to the end:<\/p>\n

His hate of B\u00e1li for the wrong<\/p>\n

And insult he had borne so long.<\/p>\n

And R\u00e1ma lent a willing ear<\/p>\n

And promised to allay his fear.<\/p>\n

Sugr\u00edva warned him of the might<\/p>\n

Of B\u00e1li, matchless in the fight,<\/p>\n

And, credence for his tale to gain,<\/p>\n

Showed the huge fiend33<\/a> by B\u00e1li slain.<\/p>\n

The prostrate corse of mountain size<\/p>\n

Seemed nothing in the hero’s eyes;<\/p>\n

He lightly kicked it, as it lay,<\/p>\n

And cast it twenty leagues34<\/a> away.<\/p>\n

To prove his might his arrows through<\/p>\n

Seven palms in line, uninjured, flew.<\/p>\n

He cleft a mighty hill apart,<\/p>\n

And down to hell he hurled his dart.<\/p>\n

Then high Sugr\u00edva’s spirit rose,<\/p>\n

Assured of conquest o’er his foes.<\/p>\n

With his new champion by his side<\/p>\n

To vast Kishkindh\u00e1’s cave he hied.<\/p>\n

Then, summoned by his awful shout,<\/p>\n

King B\u00e1li came in fury out,<\/p>\n

First comforted his trembling wife,<\/p>\n

Then sought Sugr\u00edva in the strife.<\/p>\n

One shaft from R\u00e1ma’s deadly bow<\/p>\n

The monarch in the dust laid low.<\/p>\n

Then R\u00e1ma bade Sugr\u00edva reign<\/p>\n

In place of royal B\u00e1li slain.<\/p>\n

Then speedy envoys hurried forth<\/p>\n

Eastward and westward, south and north,<\/p>\n

Commanded by the grateful king<\/p>\n

Tidings of R\u00e1ma’s spouse to bring.<\/p>\n

Then by Samp\u00e1ti’s counsel led,<\/p>\n

Brave Hanum\u00e1n, who mocked at dread,<\/p>\n

Sprang at one wild tremendous leap<\/p>\n

Two hundred leagues across the deep.<\/p>\n

To Lank\u00e1’s35<\/a> town he urged his way,<\/p>\n

Where R\u00e1va\u1e47 held his royal sway.<\/p>\n

[pg 006]<\/p>\n

There pensive ‘neath A\u015boka36<\/a> boughs<\/p>\n

He found poor S\u00edt\u00e1, R\u00e1ma’s spouse.<\/p>\n

He gave the hapless girl a ring,<\/p>\n

A token from her lord and king.<\/p>\n

A pledge from her fair hand he bore;<\/p>\n

Then battered down the garden door.<\/p>\n

Five captains of the host he slew,<\/p>\n

Seven sons of councillors o’erthrew;<\/p>\n

Crushed youthful Aksha on the field,<\/p>\n

Then to his captors chose to yield.<\/p>\n

Soon from their bonds his limbs were free,<\/p>\n

But honouring the high decree<\/p>\n

Which Brahm\u00e137<\/a> had pronounced of yore,<\/p>\n

He calmly all their insults bore.<\/p>\n

The town he burnt with hostile flame,<\/p>\n

And spoke again with R\u00e1ma’s dame,<\/p>\n

Then swiftly back to R\u00e1ma flew<\/p>\n

With tidings of the interview.<\/p>\n

Then with Sugr\u00edva for his guide,<\/p>\n

Came R\u00e1ma to the ocean side.<\/p>\n

He smote the sea with shafts as bright<\/p>\n

As sunbeams in their summer height,<\/p>\n

And quick appeared the Rivers’ King38<\/a><\/p>\n

Obedient to the summoning.<\/p>\n

A bridge was thrown by Nala o’er<\/p>\n

The narrow sea from shore to shore.39<\/a><\/p>\n

They crossed to Lank\u00e1’s golden town,<\/p>\n

Where R\u00e1ma’s hand smote R\u00e1va\u1e47 down.<\/p>\n

Vibhisha\u1e47 there was left to reign<\/p>\n

Over his brother’s wide domain.<\/p>\n

To meet her husband S\u00edt\u00e1 came;<\/p>\n

But R\u00e1ma, stung with ire and shame,<\/p>\n

With bitter words his wife addressed<\/p>\n

Before the crowd that round her pressed.<\/p>\n

But S\u00edt\u00e1, touched with noble ire,<\/p>\n

Gave her fair body to the fire.<\/p>\n

Then straight the God of Wind appeared,<\/p>\n

And words from heaven her honour cleared.<\/p>\n

And R\u00e1ma clasped his wife again,<\/p>\n

Uninjured, pure from spot and stain,<\/p>\n

Obedient to the Lord of Fire<\/p>\n

And the high mandate of his sire.<\/p>\n

Led by the Lord who rules the sky,<\/p>\n

The Gods and heavenly saints drew nigh,<\/p>\n

And honoured him with worthy meed,<\/p>\n

Rejoicing in each glorious deed.<\/p>\n

His task achieved, his foe removed,<\/p>\n

He triumphed, by the Gods approved.<\/p>\n

By grace of Heaven he raised to life<\/p>\n

The chieftains slain in mortal strife;<\/p>\n

Then in the magic chariot through<\/p>\n

The clouds to Nandigr\u00e1ma flew.<\/p>\n

Met by his faithful brothers there,<\/p>\n

He loosed his votive coil of hair:<\/p>\n

Thence fair Ayodhy\u00e1’s town he gained,<\/p>\n

And o’er his father’s kingdom reigned.<\/p>\n

Disease or famine ne’er oppressed<\/p>\n

His happy people, richly blest<\/p>\n

With all the joys of ample wealth,<\/p>\n

Of sweet content and perfect health.<\/p>\n

No widow mourned her well-loved mate,<\/p>\n

No sire his son’s untimely fate.<\/p>\n

They feared not storm or robber’s hand;<\/p>\n

No fire or flood laid waste the land:<\/p>\n

The Golden Age40<\/a> had come again<\/p>\n

To bless the days of R\u00e1ma’s reign.<\/p>\n

From him, the great and glorious king,<\/p>\n

Shall many a princely scion spring.<\/p>\n

And he shall rule, beloved by men,<\/p>\n

Ten thousand years and hundreds ten,41<\/a><\/p>\n

And when his life on earth is past<\/p>\n

To Brahm\u00e1’s world shall go at last.\u201d<\/p>\n

Whoe’er this noble poem reads<\/p>\n

That tells the tale of R\u00e1ma’s deeds,<\/p>\n

Good as the Scriptures, he shall be<\/p>\n

From every sin and blemish free.<\/p>\n

Whoever reads the saving strain,<\/p>\n

With all his kin the heavens shall gain.<\/p>\n

Br\u00e1hmans who read shall gather hence<\/p>\n

The highest praise for eloquence.<\/p>\n

The warrior, o’er the land shall reign,<\/p>\n

The merchant, luck in trade obtain;<\/p>\n

And \u015a\u00fadras listening42<\/a> ne’er shall fail<\/p>\n

To reap advantage from the tale.43<\/a><\/p>\n

[pg 007]<\/p>\n

Canto II. Brahm\u00e1’s Visit<\/strong><\/p>\n

V\u00e1lm\u00edki, graceful speaker, heard,<\/p>\n

To highest admiration stirred.<\/p>\n

To him whose fame the tale rehearsed<\/p>\n

He paid his mental worship first;<\/p>\n

Then with his pupil humbly bent<\/p>\n

Before the saint most eloquent.<\/p>\n

Thus honoured and dismissed the seer<\/p>\n

Departed to his heavenly sphere.<\/p>\n

Then from his cot V\u00e1lm\u00edki hied<\/p>\n

To Tamas\u00e1’s44<\/a> sequestered side,<\/p>\n

Not far remote from Gang\u00e1’s tide.<\/p>\n

He stood and saw the ripples roll<\/p>\n

Pellucid o’er a pebbly shoal.<\/p>\n

To Bharadv\u00e1ja45<\/a> by his side<\/p>\n

He turned in ecstasy, and cried:<\/p>\n

\u201cSee, pupil dear, this lovely sight,<\/p>\n

The smooth-floored shallow, pure and bright,<\/p>\n

With not a speck or shade to mar,<\/p>\n

And clear as good men’s bosoms are.<\/p>\n

Here on the brink thy pitcher lay,<\/p>\n

And bring my zone of bark, I pray.<\/p>\n

Here will I bathe: the rill has not,<\/p>\n

To lave the limbs, a fairer spot.<\/p>\n

Do quickly as I bid, nor waste<\/p>\n

The precious time; away, and haste.\u201d<\/p>\n

Obedient to his master’s hest<\/p>\n

Quick from the cot he brought the vest;<\/p>\n

The hermit took it from his hand,<\/p>\n

And tightened round his waist the band;<\/p>\n

Then duly dipped and bathed him there,<\/p>\n

And muttered low his secret prayer.<\/p>\n

To spirits and to Gods he made<\/p>\n

Libation of the stream, and strayed<\/p>\n

Viewing the forest deep and wide<\/p>\n

That spread its shade on every side.<\/p>\n

Close by the bank he saw a pair<\/p>\n

Of curlews sporting fearless there.<\/p>\n

But suddenly with evil mind<\/p>\n

An outcast fowler stole behind,<\/p>\n

And, with an aim too sure and true,<\/p>\n

The male bird near the hermit slew.<\/p>\n

The wretched hen in wild despair<\/p>\n

With fluttering pinions beat the air,<\/p>\n

And shrieked a long and bitter cry<\/p>\n

When low on earth she saw him lie,<\/p>\n

Her loved companion, quivering, dead,<\/p>\n

His dear wings with his lifeblood red;<\/p>\n

And for her golden crested mate<\/p>\n

She mourned, and was disconsolate.<\/p>\n

The hermit saw the slaughtered bird,<\/p>\n

And all his heart with ruth was stirred.<\/p>\n

The fowler’s impious deed distressed<\/p>\n

His gentle sympathetic breast,<\/p>\n

And while the curlew’s sad cries rang<\/p>\n

Within his ears, the hermit sang:<\/p>\n

\u201cNo fame be thine for endless time,<\/p>\n

Because, base outcast, of thy crime,<\/p>\n

Whose cruel hand was fain to slay<\/p>\n

One of this gentle pair at play!\u201d<\/p>\n

E’en as he spoke his bosom wrought<\/p>\n

And laboured with the wondering thought<\/p>\n

What was the speech his ready tongue<\/p>\n

Had uttered when his heart was wrung.<\/p>\n

He pondered long upon the speech,<\/p>\n

Recalled the words and measured each,<\/p>\n

And thus exclaimed the saintly guide<\/p>\n

To Bharadv\u00e1ja by his side:<\/p>\n

\u201cWith equal lines of even feet,<\/p>\n

With rhythm and time and tone complete,<\/p>\n

The measured form of words I spoke<\/p>\n

In shock of grief be termed a \u015bloke.\u201d46<\/a><\/p>\n

And Bharadv\u00e1ja, nothing slow<\/p>\n

His faithful love and zeal to show,<\/p>\n

Answered those words of wisdom, \u201cBe<\/p>\n

The name, my lord, as pleases thee.\u201d<\/p>\n

As rules prescribe the hermit took<\/p>\n

Some lustral water from the brook.<\/p>\n

But still on this his constant thought<\/p>\n

Kept brooding, as his home he sought;<\/p>\n

While Bharadv\u00e1ja paced behind,<\/p>\n

A pupil sage of lowly mind,<\/p>\n

And in his hand a pitcher bore<\/p>\n

With pure fresh water brimming o’er.<\/p>\n

Soon as they reached their calm retreat<\/p>\n

The holy hermit took his seat;<\/p>\n

His mind from worldly cares recalled,<\/p>\n

And mused in deepest thought enthralled.<\/p>\n

Then glorious Brahm\u00e1,47<\/a> Lord Most High,<\/p>\n

Creator of the earth and sky,<\/p>\n

[pg 008]<\/p>\n

The four-faced God, to meet the sage<\/p>\n

Came to V\u00e1lm\u00edki’s hermitage.<\/p>\n

Soon as the mighty God he saw,<\/p>\n

Up sprang the saint in wondering awe.<\/p>\n

Mute, with clasped hands, his head he bent,<\/p>\n

And stood before him reverent.<\/p>\n

His honoured guest he greeted well,<\/p>\n

Who bade him of his welfare tell;<\/p>\n

Gave water for his blessed feet,<\/p>\n

Brought offerings,48<\/a> and prepared a seat.<\/p>\n

In honoured place the God Most High<\/p>\n

Sate down, and bade the saint sit nigh.<\/p>\n

There sate before V\u00e1lm\u00edki’s eyes<\/p>\n

The Father of the earth and skies;<\/p>\n

But still the hermit’s thoughts were bent<\/p>\n

On one thing only, all intent<\/p>\n

On that poor curlew’s mournful fate<\/p>\n

Lamenting for her slaughtered mate;<\/p>\n

And still his lips, in absent mood,<\/p>\n

The verse that told his grief, renewed:<\/p>\n

\u201cWoe to the fowler’s impious hand<\/p>\n

That did the deed that folly planned;<\/p>\n

That could to needless death devote<\/p>\n

The curlew of the tuneful throat!\u201d<\/p>\n

The heavenly Father smiled in glee,<\/p>\n

And said, \u201cO best of hermits, see,<\/p>\n

A verse, unconscious, thou hast made;<\/p>\n

No longer be the task delayed.<\/p>\n

Seek not to trace, with labour vain,<\/p>\n

The unpremeditated strain.<\/p>\n

The tuneful lines thy lips rehearsed<\/p>\n

Spontaneous from thy bosom burst.<\/p>\n

Then come, O best of seers, relate<\/p>\n

The life of R\u00e1ma good and great,<\/p>\n

The tale that saintly N\u00e1rad told,<\/p>\n

In all its glorious length unfold.<\/p>\n

Of all the deeds his arm has done<\/p>\n

Upon this earth, omit not one,<\/p>\n

And thus the noble life record<\/p>\n

Of that wise, brave, and virtuous lord.<\/p>\n

His every act to day displayed,<\/p>\n

His secret life to none betrayed:<\/p>\n

How Lakshma\u1e47, how the giants fought;<\/p>\n

With high emprise and hidden thought:<\/p>\n

And all that Janak’s child49<\/a> befell<\/p>\n

Where all could see, where none could tell.<\/p>\n

The whole of this shall truly be<\/p>\n

Made known, O best of saints, to thee.<\/p>\n

In all thy poem, through my grace,<\/p>\n

No word of falsehood shall have place.<\/p>\n

Begin the story, and rehearse<\/p>\n

The tale divine in charming verse.<\/p>\n

As long as in this firm-set land<\/p>\n

The streams shall flow, the mountains stand,<\/p>\n

So long throughout the world, be sure,<\/p>\n

The great R\u00e1m\u00e1yan shall endure.50<\/a><\/p>\n

While the R\u00e1m\u00e1yan’s ancient strain<\/p>\n

Shall glorious in the earth remain,<\/p>\n

To higher spheres shalt thou arise<\/p>\n

And dwell with me above the skies.\u201d<\/p>\n

He spoke, and vanished into air,<\/p>\n

And left V\u00e1lm\u00edki wondering there.<\/p>\n

The pupils of the holy man,<\/p>\n

Moved by their love of him, began<\/p>\n

To chant that verse, and ever more<\/p>\n

They marvelled as they sang it o’er:<\/p>\n

\u201cBehold, the four-lined balanced rime,<\/p>\n

Repeated over many a time,<\/p>\n

In words that from the hermit broke<\/p>\n

In shock of grief, becomes a \u015bloke.\u201d<\/p>\n

This measure now V\u00e1lm\u00edki chose<\/p>\n

Wherein his story to compose.<\/p>\n

In hundreds of such verses, sweet<\/p>\n

With equal lines and even feet,<\/p>\n

The saintly poet, lofty-souled,<\/p>\n

The glorious deeds of R\u00e1ma told.<\/p>\n

Canto III. The Argument.<\/strong><\/p>\n

The hermit thus with watchful heed<\/p>\n

Received the poem’s pregnant seed,<\/p>\n

And looked with eager thought around<\/p>\n

If fuller knowledge might be found.<\/p>\n

[pg 009]<\/p>\n

His lips with water first bedewed,51<\/a><\/p>\n

He sate, in reverent attitude<\/p>\n

On holy grass,52<\/a> the points all bent<\/p>\n

Together toward the orient;53<\/a><\/p>\n

And thus in meditation he<\/p>\n

Entered the path of poesy.<\/p>\n

Then clearly, through his virtue’s might,<\/p>\n

All lay discovered to his sight,<\/p>\n

Whate’er befell, through all their life,<\/p>\n

R\u00e1ma, his brother, and his wife:<\/p>\n

And Da\u015baratha and each queen<\/p>\n

At every time, in every scene:<\/p>\n

His people too, of every sort;<\/p>\n

The nobles of his princely court:<\/p>\n

Whate’er was said, whate’er decreed,<\/p>\n

Each time they sate each plan and deed:<\/p>\n

For holy thought and fervent rite<\/p>\n

Had so refined his keener sight<\/p>\n

That by his sanctity his view<\/p>\n

The present, past, and future knew,<\/p>\n

And he with mental eye could grasp,<\/p>\n

Like fruit within his fingers clasp,<\/p>\n

The life of R\u00e1ma, great and good,<\/p>\n

Roaming with S\u00edt\u00e1 in the wood.<\/p>\n

He told, with secret-piercing eyes,<\/p>\n

The tale of R\u00e1ma’s high emprise,<\/p>\n

Each listening ear that shall entice,<\/p>\n

A sea of pearls of highest price.<\/p>\n

Thus good V\u00e1lm\u00edki, sage divine,<\/p>\n

Rehearsed the tale of Raghu’s line,<\/p>\n

As N\u00e1rad, heavenly saint, before<\/p>\n

Had traced the story’s outline o’er.<\/p>\n

He sang of R\u00e1ma’s princely birth,<\/p>\n

His kindness and heroic worth;<\/p>\n

His love for all, his patient youth,<\/p>\n

His gentleness and constant truth,<\/p>\n

And many a tale and legend old<\/p>\n

By holy Vi\u015bv\u00e1mitra told.<\/p>\n

How Janak’s child he wooed and won,<\/p>\n

And broke the bow that bent to none.<\/p>\n

How he with every virtue fraught<\/p>\n

His namesake R\u00e1ma54<\/a> met and fought.<\/p>\n

The choice of R\u00e1ma for the throne;<\/p>\n

The malice by Kaikey\u00ed shown,<\/p>\n

Whose evil counsel marred the plan<\/p>\n

And drove him forth a banisht man.<\/p>\n

How the king grieved and groaned, and cried,<\/p>\n

And swooned away and pining died.<\/p>\n

The subjects’ woe when thus bereft;<\/p>\n

And how the following crowds he left:<\/p>\n

With Guha talked, and firmly stern<\/p>\n

Ordered his driver to return.<\/p>\n

How Gang\u00e1’s farther shore he gained;<\/p>\n

By Bharadv\u00e1ja entertained,<\/p>\n

By whose advice he journeyed still<\/p>\n

And came to Chitrak\u00fa\u1e6da’s hill.<\/p>\n

How there he dwelt and built a cot;<\/p>\n

How Bharat journeyed to the spot;<\/p>\n

His earnest supplication made;<\/p>\n

Drink-offerings to their father paid;<\/p>\n

The sandals given by R\u00e1ma’s hand,<\/p>\n

As emblems of his right, to stand:<\/p>\n

How from his presence Bharat went<\/p>\n

And years in Nandigr\u00e1ma spent.<\/p>\n

How R\u00e1ma entered Da\u1e47\u1e0dak wood<\/p>\n

And in Sut\u00edkh\u1e47a’s presence stood.<\/p>\n

The favour Anas\u00fay\u00e1 showed,<\/p>\n

The wondrous balsam she bestowed.<\/p>\n

How \u015aarabhanga’s dwelling-place<\/p>\n

They sought; saw Indra face to face;<\/p>\n

The meeting with Agastya gained;<\/p>\n

The heavenly bow from him obtained.<\/p>\n

How R\u00e1ma with Vir\u00e1dha met;<\/p>\n

Their home in Panchava\u1e6da set.<\/p>\n

How \u015a\u00farpa\u1e47akh\u00e1 underwent<\/p>\n

The mockery and disfigurement.<\/p>\n

Of Tri\u015bir\u00e1’s and Khara’s fall,<\/p>\n

Of R\u00e1va\u1e47 roused at vengeance call,<\/p>\n

M\u00e1r\u00edcha doomed, without escape;<\/p>\n

The fair Videhan55<\/a> lady’s rape.<\/p>\n

How R\u00e1ma wept and raved in vain,<\/p>\n

And how the Vulture-king was slain.<\/p>\n

How R\u00e1ma fierce Kabandha slew;<\/p>\n

Then to the side of Pamp\u00e1 drew,<\/p>\n

Met Hanum\u00e1n, and her whose vows<\/p>\n

Were kept beneath the greenwood boughs.<\/p>\n

How Raghu’s son, the lofty-souled,<\/p>\n

On Pamp\u00e1’s bank wept uncontrolled,<\/p>\n

Then journeyed, Rishyam\u00fak to reach,<\/p>\n

And of Sugr\u00edva then had speech.<\/p>\n

The friendship made, which both had sought:<\/p>\n

How B\u00e1li and Sugr\u00edva fought.<\/p>\n

How B\u00e1li in the strife was slain,<\/p>\n

And how Sugr\u00edva came to reign.<\/p>\n

The treaty, T\u00e1ra’s wild lament;<\/p>\n

The rainy nights in watching spent.<\/p>\n

The wrath of Raghu’s lion son;<\/p>\n

The gathering of the hosts in one.<\/p>\n

The sending of the spies about,<\/p>\n

And all the regions pointed out.<\/p>\n

The ring by R\u00e1ma’s hand bestowed;<\/p>\n

The cave wherein the bear abode.<\/p>\n

The fast proposed, their lives to end;<\/p>\n

Sampati gained to be their friend.<\/p>\n

[pg 010]<\/p>\n

The scaling of the hill, the leap<\/p>\n

Of Hanum\u00e1n across the deep.<\/p>\n

Ocean’s command that bade them seek<\/p>\n

Main\u00e1ka of the lofty peak.<\/p>\n

The death of Sinhik\u00e1, the sight<\/p>\n

Of Lank\u00e1 with her palace bright<\/p>\n

How Hanum\u00e1n stole in at eve;<\/p>\n

His plan the giants to deceive.<\/p>\n

How through the square he made his way<\/p>\n

To chambers where the women lay,<\/p>\n

Within the A\u015boka garden came<\/p>\n

And there found R\u00e1ma’s captive dame.<\/p>\n

His colloquy with her he sought,<\/p>\n

And giving of the ring he brought.<\/p>\n

How S\u00edt\u00e1 gave a gem o’erjoyed;<\/p>\n

How Hanum\u00e1n the grove destroyed.<\/p>\n

How giantesses trembling fled,<\/p>\n

And servant fiends were smitten dead.<\/p>\n

How Hanum\u00e1n was seized; their ire<\/p>\n

When Lank\u00e1 blazed with hostile fire.<\/p>\n

His leap across the sea once more;<\/p>\n

The eating of the honey store.<\/p>\n

How R\u00e1ma he consoled, and how<\/p>\n

He showed the gem from S\u00edt\u00e1’s brow.<\/p>\n

With Ocean, R\u00e1ma’s interview;<\/p>\n

The bridge that Nala o’er it threw.<\/p>\n

The crossing, and the sitting down<\/p>\n

At night round Lank\u00e1’s royal town.<\/p>\n

The treaty with Vibh\u00edsha\u1e47 made:<\/p>\n

The plan for R\u00e1va\u1e47’s slaughter laid.<\/p>\n

How Kumbhakar\u1e47a in his pride<\/p>\n

And Meghan\u00e1da fought and died.<\/p>\n

How R\u00e1va\u1e47 in the fight was slain,<\/p>\n

And captive S\u00edt\u00e1 brought again.<\/p>\n

Vibh\u00edsha\u1e47 set upon the throne;<\/p>\n

The flying chariot Pushpak shown.<\/p>\n

How Brahm\u00e1 and the Gods appeared,<\/p>\n

And S\u00edt\u00e1’s doubted honour cleared.<\/p>\n

How in the flying car they rode<\/p>\n

To Bharadv\u00e1ja’s cabin abode.<\/p>\n

The Wind-God’s son sent on afar;<\/p>\n

How Bharat met the flying car.<\/p>\n

How R\u00e1ma then was king ordained;<\/p>\n

The legions their discharge obtained.<\/p>\n

How R\u00e1ma cast his queen away;<\/p>\n

How grew the people’s love each day.<\/p>\n

Thus did the saint V\u00e1lm\u00edki tell<\/p>\n

Whate’er in R\u00e1ma’s life befell,<\/p>\n

And in the closing verses all<\/p>\n

That yet to come will once befall.<\/p>\n

Canto IV. The Rhapsodists.<\/strong><\/p>\n

When to the end the tale was brought,<\/p>\n

Rose in the sage’s mind the thought;<\/p>\n

\u201cNow who throughout this earth will go,<\/p>\n

And tell it forth that all may know?\u201d<\/p>\n

As thus he mused with anxious breast,<\/p>\n

Behold, in hermit’s raiment dressed,<\/p>\n

Ku\u015b\u00e1 and Lava56<\/a> came to greet<\/p>\n

Their master and embrace his feet.<\/p>\n

The twins he saw, that princely pair<\/p>\n

Sweet-voiced, who dwelt beside him there<\/p>\n

None for the task could be more fit,<\/p>\n

For skilled were they in Holy Writ;<\/p>\n

And so the great R\u00e1m\u00e1yan, fraught<\/p>\n

With lore divine, to these he taught:<\/p>\n

The lay whose verses sweet and clear<\/p>\n

Take with delight the listening ear,<\/p>\n

That tell of S\u00edt\u00e1’s noble life<\/p>\n

And R\u00e1va\u1e47’s fall in battle strife.<\/p>\n

Great joy to all who hear they bring,<\/p>\n

Sweet to recite and sweet to sing.<\/p>\n

For music’s sevenfold notes are there,<\/p>\n

And triple measure,57<\/a> wrought with care<\/p>\n

With melody and tone and time,<\/p>\n

And flavours58<\/a> that enhance the rime;<\/p>\n

Heroic might has ample place,<\/p>\n

And loathing of the false and base,<\/p>\n

With anger, mirth, and terror, blent<\/p>\n

With tenderness, surprise, content.<\/p>\n

When, half the hermit’s grace to gain,<\/p>\n

And half because they loved the strain,<\/p>\n

The youth within their hearts had stored<\/p>\n

The poem that his lips outpoured,<\/p>\n

V\u00e1lm\u00edki kissed them on the head,<\/p>\n

As at his feet they bowed, and said;<\/p>\n

\u201cRecite ye this heroic song<\/p>\n

In tranquil shades where sages throng:<\/p>\n

Recite it where the good resort,<\/p>\n

In lowly home and royal court.\u201d<\/p>\n

The hermit ceased. The tuneful pair,<\/p>\n

Like heavenly minstrels sweet and fair,<\/p>\n

In music’s art divinely skilled,<\/p>\n

Their saintly master’s word fulfilled.<\/p>\n

Like R\u00e1ma’s self, from whom they came,<\/p>\n

They showed their sire in face and frame,<\/p>\n

[pg 011]<\/p>\n

As though from some fair sculptured stone<\/p>\n

Two selfsame images had grown.<\/p>\n

Sometimes the pair rose up to sing,<\/p>\n

Surrounded by a holy ring,<\/p>\n

Where seated on the grass had met<\/p>\n

Full many a musing anchoret.<\/p>\n

Then tears bedimmed those gentle eyes,<\/p>\n

As transport took them and surprise,<\/p>\n

And as they listened every one<\/p>\n

Cried in delight, Well done! Well done!<\/p>\n

Those sages versed in holy lore<\/p>\n

Praised the sweet minstrels more and more:<\/p>\n

And wondered at the singers’ skill,<\/p>\n

And the bard’s verses sweeter still,<\/p>\n

Which laid so clear before the eye<\/p>\n

The glorious deeds of days gone by.<\/p>\n

Thus by the virtuous hermits praised,<\/p>\n

Inspirited their voice they raised.<\/p>\n

Pleased with the song this holy man<\/p>\n

Would give the youths a water-can;<\/p>\n

One gave a fair ascetic dress,<\/p>\n

Or sweet fruit from the wilderness.<\/p>\n

One saint a black-deer’s hide would bring,<\/p>\n

And one a sacrificial string:<\/p>\n

One, a clay pitcher from his hoard,<\/p>\n

And one, a twisted munja cord.59<\/a><\/p>\n

One in his joy an axe would find,<\/p>\n

One braid, their plaited locks to bind.<\/p>\n

One gave a sacrificial cup,<\/p>\n

One rope to tie their fagots up;<\/p>\n

While fuel at their feet was laid,<\/p>\n

Or hermit’s stool of fig-tree made.<\/p>\n

All gave, or if they gave not, none<\/p>\n

Forgot at least a benison.<\/p>\n

Some saints, delighted with their lays,<\/p>\n

Would promise health and length of days;<\/p>\n

Others with surest words would add<\/p>\n

Some boon to make their spirit glad.<\/p>\n

In such degree of honour then<\/p>\n

That song was held by holy men:<\/p>\n

That living song which life can give,<\/p>\n

By which shall many a minstrel live.<\/p>\n

In seat of kings, in crowded hall,<\/p>\n

They sang the poem, praised of all.<\/p>\n

And R\u00e1ma chanced to hear their lay,<\/p>\n

While he the votive steed60<\/a> would slay,<\/p>\n

And sent fit messengers to bring<\/p>\n

The minstrel pair before the king.<\/p>\n

They came, and found the monarch high<\/p>\n

Enthroned in gold, his brothers nigh;<\/p>\n

While many a minister below,<\/p>\n

And noble, sate in lengthened row.<\/p>\n

The youthful pair awhile he viewed<\/p>\n

Graceful in modest attitude,<\/p>\n

And then in words like these addressed<\/p>\n

His brother Lakshma\u1e47 and the rest:<\/p>\n

\u201cCome, listen to the wondrous strain<\/p>\n

Recited by these godlike twain,<\/p>\n

Sweet singers of a story fraught<\/p>\n

With melody and lofty thought.\u201d<\/p>\n

The pair, with voices sweet and strong,<\/p>\n

Rolled the full tide of noble song,<\/p>\n

With tone and accent deftly blent<\/p>\n

To suit the changing argument.<\/p>\n

Mid that assembly loud and clear<\/p>\n

Rang forth that lay so sweet to hear,<\/p>\n

That universal rapture stole<\/p>\n

Through each man’s frame and heart and soul.<\/p>\n

\u201cThese minstrels, blest with every sign<\/p>\n

That marks a high and princely line,<\/p>\n

In holy shades who dwell,<\/p>\n

Enshrined in Saint V\u00e1lm\u00edki’s lay,<\/p>\n

A monument to live for aye,<\/p>\n

My deeds in song shall tell.\u201d<\/p>\n

Thus R\u00e1ma spoke: their breasts were fired,<\/p>\n

And the great tale, as if inspired,<\/p>\n

The youths began to sing,<\/p>\n

While every heart with transport swelled,<\/p>\n

And mute and rapt attention held<\/p>\n

The concourse and the king.<\/p>\n

Canto V. Ayodhy\u00e1.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cIkshv\u00e1ku’s sons from days of old<\/p>\n

Were ever brave and mighty-souled.<\/p>\n

The land their arms had made their own<\/p>\n

Was bounded by the sea alone.<\/p>\n

Their holy works have won them praise,<\/p>\n

Through countless years, from Manu’s days.<\/p>\n

Their ancient sire was Sagar, he<\/p>\n

Whose high command dug out the sea:61<\/a><\/p>\n

With sixty thousand sons to throng<\/p>\n

Around him as he marched along.<\/p>\n

From them this glorious tale proceeds:<\/p>\n

The great R\u00e1m\u00e1yan tells their deeds.<\/p>\n

This noble song whose lines contain<\/p>\n

Lessons of duty, love, and gain,<\/p>\n

We two will now at length recite,<\/p>\n

While good men listen with delight.<\/p>\n

On Sarj\u00fa’s62<\/a> bank, of ample size,<\/p>\n

The happy realm of Ko\u015bal lies,<\/p>\n

[pg 012]<\/p>\n

With fertile length of fair champaign<\/p>\n

And flocks and herds and wealth of grain.<\/p>\n

There, famous in her old renown,<\/p>\n

Ayodhy\u00e163<\/a> stands, the royal town,<\/p>\n

In bygone ages built and planned<\/p>\n

By sainted Manu’s64<\/a> princely hand.<\/p>\n

Imperial seat! her walls extend<\/p>\n

Twelve measured leagues from end to end,<\/p>\n

And three in width from side to side,<\/p>\n

With square and palace beautified.<\/p>\n

Her gates at even distance stand;<\/p>\n

Her ample roads are wisely planned.<\/p>\n

Right glorious is her royal street<\/p>\n

Where streams allay the dust and heat.<\/p>\n

On level ground in even row<\/p>\n

Her houses rise in goodly show:<\/p>\n

Terrace and palace, arch and gate<\/p>\n

The queenly city decorate.<\/p>\n

High are her ramparts, strong and vast,<\/p>\n

By ways at even distance passed,<\/p>\n

With circling moat, both deep and wide,<\/p>\n

And store of weapons fortified.<\/p>\n

King Da\u015baratha, lofty-souled,<\/p>\n

That city guarded and controlled,<\/p>\n

With towering S\u00e1l trees belted round,65<\/a><\/p>\n

And many a grove and pleasure ground,<\/p>\n

As royal Indra, throned on high,<\/p>\n

Rules his fair city in the sky.66<\/a><\/p>\n

She seems a painted city, fair<\/p>\n

With chess-board line and even square.67<\/a><\/p>\n

And cool boughs shade the lovely lake<\/p>\n

Where weary men their thirst may slake.<\/p>\n

There gilded chariots gleam and shine,<\/p>\n

And stately piles the Gods enshrine.<\/p>\n

There gay sleek people ever throng<\/p>\n

To festival and dance and song.<\/p>\n

A mine is she of gems and sheen,<\/p>\n

The darling home of Fortune’s Queen.<\/p>\n

With noblest sort of drink and meat,<\/p>\n

The fairest rice and golden wheat,<\/p>\n

And fragrant with the chaplet’s scent<\/p>\n

With holy oil and incense blent.<\/p>\n

With many an elephant and steed,<\/p>\n

And wains for draught and cars for speed.<\/p>\n

With envoys sent by distant kings,<\/p>\n

And merchants with their precious things<\/p>\n

With banners o’er her roofs that play,<\/p>\n

And weapons that a hundred slay;68<\/a><\/p>\n

All warlike engines framed by man,<\/p>\n

And every class of artisan.<\/p>\n

A city rich beyond compare<\/p>\n

With bards and minstrels gathered there,<\/p>\n

And men and damsels who entrance<\/p>\n

The soul with play and song and dance.<\/p>\n

In every street is heard the lute,<\/p>\n

The drum, the tabret, and the flute,<\/p>\n

The Veda chanted soft and low,<\/p>\n

The ringing of the archer’s bow;<\/p>\n

With bands of godlike heroes skilled<\/p>\n

In every warlike weapon, filled,<\/p>\n

And kept by warriors from the foe,<\/p>\n

As N\u00e1gas guard their home below.69<\/a><\/p>\n

There wisest Br\u00e1hmans evermore<\/p>\n

The flame of worship feed,<\/p>\n

And versed in all the Vedas’ lore,<\/p>\n

Their lives of virtue lead.<\/p>\n

Truthful and pure, they freely give;<\/p>\n

They keep each sense controlled,<\/p>\n

And in their holy fervour live<\/p>\n

Like the great saints of old.<\/p>\n

Canto VI. The King.<\/strong><\/p>\n

There reigned a king of name revered,<\/p>\n

To country and to town endeared,<\/p>\n

Great Da\u015baratha, good and sage,<\/p>\n

Well read in Scripture’s holy page:<\/p>\n

[pg 013]<\/p>\n

Upon his kingdom’s weal intent,<\/p>\n

Mighty and brave and provident;<\/p>\n

The pride of old Ikshv\u00e1ku’s seed<\/p>\n

For lofty thought and righteous deed.<\/p>\n

Peer of the saints, for virtues famed,<\/p>\n

For foes subdued and passions tamed:<\/p>\n

A rival in his wealth untold<\/p>\n

Of Indra and the Lord of Gold.<\/p>\n

Like Manu first of kings, he reigned,<\/p>\n

And worthily his state maintained.<\/p>\n

For firm and just and ever true<\/p>\n

Love, duty, gain he kept in view,<\/p>\n

And ruled his city rich and free,<\/p>\n

Like Indra’s Amar\u00e1vat\u00ed.<\/p>\n

And worthy of so fair a place<\/p>\n

There dwelt a just and happy race<\/p>\n

With troops of children blest.<\/p>\n

Each man contented sought no more,<\/p>\n

Nor longed with envy for the store<\/p>\n

By richer friends possessed.<\/p>\n

For poverty was there unknown,<\/p>\n

And each man counted as his own<\/p>\n

Kine, steeds, and gold, and grain.<\/p>\n

All dressed in raiment bright and clean,<\/p>\n

And every townsman might be seen<\/p>\n

With earrings, wreath, or chain.<\/p>\n

None deigned to feed on broken fare,<\/p>\n

And none was false or stingy there.<\/p>\n

A piece of gold, the smallest pay,<\/p>\n

Was earned by labour for a day.<\/p>\n

On every arm were bracelets worn,<\/p>\n

And none was faithless or forsworn,<\/p>\n

A braggart or unkind.<\/p>\n

None lived upon another’s wealth,<\/p>\n

None pined with dread or broken health,<\/p>\n

Or dark disease of mind.<\/p>\n

High-souled were all. The slanderous word,<\/p>\n

The boastful lie, were never heard.<\/p>\n

Each man was constant to his vows,<\/p>\n

And lived devoted to his spouse.<\/p>\n

No other love his fancy knew,<\/p>\n

And she was tender, kind, and true.<\/p>\n

Her dames were fair of form and face,<\/p>\n

With charm of wit and gentle grace,<\/p>\n

With modest raiment simply neat,<\/p>\n

And winning manners soft and sweet.<\/p>\n

The twice-born sages, whose delight<\/p>\n

Was Scripture’s page and holy rite,<\/p>\n

Their calm and settled course pursued,<\/p>\n

Nor sought the menial multitude.<\/p>\n

In many a Scripture each was versed,<\/p>\n

And each the flame of worship nursed,<\/p>\n

And gave with lavish hand.<\/p>\n

Each paid to Heaven the offerings due,<\/p>\n

And none was godless or untrue<\/p>\n

In all that holy band.<\/p>\n

To Br\u00e1hmans, as the laws ordain,<\/p>\n

The Warrior caste were ever fain<\/p>\n

The reverence due to pay;<\/p>\n

And these the Vai\u015byas’ peaceful crowd,<\/p>\n

Who trade and toil for gain, were proud<\/p>\n

To honour and obey;<\/p>\n

And all were by the \u015a\u00fadras70<\/a> served,<\/p>\n

Who never from their duty swerved,<\/p>\n

Their proper worship all addressed<\/p>\n

To Br\u00e1hman, spirits, God, and guest.<\/p>\n

Pure and unmixt their rites remained,<\/p>\n

Their race’s honour ne’er was stained.71<\/a><\/p>\n

Cheered by his grandsons, sons, and wife,<\/p>\n

Each passed a long and happy life.<\/p>\n

Thus was that famous city held<\/p>\n

By one who all his race excelled,<\/p>\n

Blest in his gentle reign,<\/p>\n

As the whole land aforetime swayed<\/p>\n

By Manu, prince of men, obeyed<\/p>\n

Her king from main to main.<\/p>\n

And heroes kept her, strong and brave,<\/p>\n

As lions guard their mountain cave:<\/p>\n

Fierce as devouring flame they burned,<\/p>\n

And fought till death, but never turned.<\/p>\n

Horses had she of noblest breed,<\/p>\n

Like Indra’s for their form and speed,<\/p>\n

From V\u00e1hl\u00ed’s72<\/a> hills and Sindhu’s73<\/a> sand,<\/p>\n

Van\u00e1yu74<\/a> and K\u00e1mboja’s land.75<\/a><\/p>\n

[pg 014]<\/p>\n

Her noble elephants had strayed<\/p>\n

Through Vindhyan and Him\u00e1layan shade,<\/p>\n

Gigantic in their bulk and height,<\/p>\n

Yet gentle in their matchless might.<\/p>\n

They rivalled well the world-spread fame<\/p>\n

Of the great stock from which they came,<\/p>\n

Of V\u00e1man, vast of size,<\/p>\n

Of Mah\u00e1padma’s glorious line,<\/p>\n

Thine, Anjan, and, Air\u00e1vat, thine.76<\/a><\/p>\n

Upholders of the skies.<\/p>\n

With those, enrolled in fourfold class,<\/p>\n

Who all their mighty kin surpass,<\/p>\n

Whom men Matangas name,<\/p>\n

And Mrigas spotted black and white,<\/p>\n

And Bhadras of unwearied might,<\/p>\n

And Mandras hard to tame.77<\/a><\/p>\n

Thus, worthy of the name she bore,78<\/a><\/p>\n

Ayodhy\u00e1 for a league or more<\/p>\n

Cast a bright glory round,<\/p>\n

Where Da\u015baratha wise and great<\/p>\n

Governed his fair ancestral state,<\/p>\n

With every virtue crowned.<\/p>\n

Like Indra in the skies he reigned<\/p>\n

In that good town whose wall contained<\/p>\n

High domes and turrets proud,<\/p>\n

With gates and arcs of triumph decked,<\/p>\n

And sturdy barriers to protect<\/p>\n

Her gay and countless crowd.<\/p>\n

Canto VII. The Ministers.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Two sages, holy saints, had he,<\/p>\n

His ministers and priests to be:<\/p>\n

Va\u015bish\u1e6dha, faithful to advise,<\/p>\n

And V\u00e1madeva, Scripture-wise.<\/p>\n

Eight other lords around him stood,<\/p>\n

All skilled to counsel, wise and good:<\/p>\n

Jayanta, Vijay, Dhrish\u1e6di bold<\/p>\n

In fight, affairs of war controlled:<\/p>\n

Siddh\u00e1rth and Arthas\u00e1dhak true<\/p>\n

Watched o’er expense and revenue,<\/p>\n

And Dharmap\u00e1l and wise A\u015bok<\/p>\n

Of right and law and justice spoke.<\/p>\n

With these the sage Sumantra, skilled<\/p>\n

To urge the car, high station filled.<\/p>\n

All these in knowledge duly trained<\/p>\n

Each passion and each sense restrained:<\/p>\n

With modest manners, nobly bred<\/p>\n

Each plan and nod and look they read,<\/p>\n

Upon their neighbours’ good intent,<\/p>\n

Most active and benevolent:<\/p>\n

As sit the Vasus79<\/a> round their king,<\/p>\n

They sate around him counselling.<\/p>\n

They ne’er in virtue’s loftier pride<\/p>\n

Another’s lowly gifts decried.<\/p>\n

In fair and seemly garb arrayed,<\/p>\n

No weak uncertain plans they made.<\/p>\n

Well skilled in business, fair and just,<\/p>\n

They gained the people’s love and trust,<\/p>\n

And thus without oppression stored<\/p>\n

The swelling treasury of their lord.<\/p>\n

Bound in sweet friendship each to each,<\/p>\n

They spoke kind thoughts in gentle speech.<\/p>\n

They looked alike with equal eye<\/p>\n

On every caste, on low and high.<\/p>\n

Devoted to their king, they sought,<\/p>\n

Ere his tongue spoke, to learn his thought,<\/p>\n

And knew, as each occasion rose,<\/p>\n

To hide their counsel or disclose.<\/p>\n

In foreign lands or in their own<\/p>\n

Whatever passed, to them was known.<\/p>\n

By secret spies they timely knew<\/p>\n

What men were doing or would do.<\/p>\n

Skilled in the grounds of war and peace<\/p>\n

They saw the monarch’s state increase,<\/p>\n

Watching his weal with conquering eye<\/p>\n

That never let occasion by,<\/p>\n

While nature lent her aid to bless<\/p>\n

Their labours with unbought success.<\/p>\n

Never for anger, lust, or gain,<\/p>\n

Would they their lips with falsehood stain.<\/p>\n

Inclined to mercy they could scan<\/p>\n

The weakness and the strength of man.<\/p>\n

They fairly judged both high and low,<\/p>\n

And ne’er would wrong a guiltless foe;<\/p>\n

Yet if a fault were proved, each one<\/p>\n

Would punish e’en his own dear son.<\/p>\n

But there and in the kingdom’s bound<\/p>\n

No thief or man impure was found:<\/p>\n

None of loose life or evil fame,<\/p>\n

No tempter of another’s dame.<\/p>\n

Contented with their lot each caste<\/p>\n

[pg 015]<\/p>\n

Calm days in blissful quiet passed;<\/p>\n

And, all in fitting tasks employed,<\/p>\n

Country and town deep rest enjoyed,<\/p>\n

With these wise lords around his throne<\/p>\n

The monarch justly reigned,<\/p>\n

And making every heart his own<\/p>\n

The love of all men gained.<\/p>\n

With trusty agents, as beseems,<\/p>\n

Each distant realm he scanned,<\/p>\n

As the sun visits with his beams<\/p>\n

Each corner of the land.<\/p>\n

Ne’er would he on a mightier foe<\/p>\n

With hostile troops advance,<\/p>\n

Nor at an equal strike a blow<\/p>\n

In war’s delusive chance.<\/p>\n

These lords in council bore their part<\/p>\n

With ready brain and faithful heart,<\/p>\n

With skill and knowledge, sense and tact,<\/p>\n

Good to advise and bold to act.<\/p>\n

And high and endless fame he won<\/p>\n

With these to guide his schemes,<\/p>\n

As, risen in his might, the sun<\/p>\n

Wins glory with his beams.<\/p>\n

Canto VIII. Sumantra’s Speech.<\/strong><\/p>\n

But splendid, just, and great of mind,<\/p>\n

The childless king for offspring pined.<\/p>\n

No son had he his name to grace,<\/p>\n

Transmitter of his royal race.<\/p>\n

Long had his anxious bosom wrought,<\/p>\n

And as he pondered rose the thought:<\/p>\n

\u201cA votive steed ’twere good to slay,<\/p>\n

So might a son the gift repay.\u201d<\/p>\n

Before his lords his plan he laid,<\/p>\n

And bade them with their wisdom aid:<\/p>\n

Then with these words Sumantra, best<\/p>\n

Of royal counsellors, addressed:<\/p>\n

\u201cHither, Va\u015bish\u1e6dha at their head,<\/p>\n

Let all my priestly guides be led.\u201d<\/p>\n

To him Sumantra made reply:<\/p>\n

\u201cHear, Sire, a tale of days gone by.<\/p>\n

To many a sage in time of old,<\/p>\n

Sanatkum\u00e1r, the saint, foretold<\/p>\n

How from thine ancient line, O King,<\/p>\n

A son, when years came round, should spring.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere dwells,\u201d ’twas thus the seer began,<\/p>\n

\u201cOf Ka\u015byap’s80<\/a> race, a holy man,<\/p>\n

Vibh\u00e1\u1e47dak named: to him shall spring<\/p>\n

A son, the famous Rishya\u015bring.<\/p>\n

Bred with the deer that round him roam,<\/p>\n

The wood shall be that hermit’s home.<\/p>\n

To him no mortal shall be known<\/p>\n

Except his holy sire alone.<\/p>\n

Still by those laws shall he abide<\/p>\n

Which lives of youthful Br\u00e1hmans guide,<\/p>\n

Obedient to the strictest rule<\/p>\n

That forms the young ascetic’s school:<\/p>\n

And all the wondering world shall hear<\/p>\n

Of his stern life and penance drear;<\/p>\n

His care to nurse the holy fire<\/p>\n

And do the bidding of his sire.<\/p>\n

Then, seated on the Angas’81<\/a> throne,<\/p>\n

Shall Lomap\u00e1d to fame be known.<\/p>\n

But folly wrought by that great king<\/p>\n

A plague upon the land shall bring;<\/p>\n

No rain for many a year shall fall<\/p>\n

And grievous drought shall ruin all.<\/p>\n

The troubled king with many a prayer<\/p>\n

Shall bid the priests some cure declare:<\/p>\n

\u201cThe lore of Heaven ’tis yours to know,<\/p>\n

Nor are ye blind to things below:<\/p>\n

Declare, O holy men, the way<\/p>\n

This plague to expiate and stay.\u201d<\/p>\n

Those best of Br\u00e1hmans shall reply:<\/p>\n

\u201cBy every art, O Monarch, try<\/p>\n

Hither to bring Vibh\u00e1\u1e47dak’s child,<\/p>\n

Persuaded, captured, or beguiled.<\/p>\n

And when the boy is hither led<\/p>\n

To him thy daughter duly wed.\u201d<\/p>\n

But how to bring that wondrous boy<\/p>\n

His troubled thoughts will long employ,<\/p>\n

And hopeless to achieve the task<\/p>\n

He counsel of his lords will ask,<\/p>\n

And bid his priests and servants bring<\/p>\n

With honour saintly Rishya\u015bring.<\/p>\n

But when they hear the monarch’s speech,<\/p>\n

All these their master will beseech,<\/p>\n

With trembling hearts and looks of woe,<\/p>\n

To spare them, for they fear to go.<\/p>\n

And many a plan will they declare<\/p>\n

And crafty plots will frame,<\/p>\n

And promise fair to show him there,<\/p>\n

Unforced, with none to blame.<\/p>\n

On every word his lords shall say,<\/p>\n

The king will meditate,<\/p>\n

And on the third returning day<\/p>\n

Recall them to debate.<\/p>\n

Then this shall be the plan agreed,<\/p>\n

That damsels shall be sent<\/p>\n

Attired in holy hermits’ weed,<\/p>\n

And skilled in blandishment,<\/p>\n

That they the hermit may beguile<\/p>\n

With every art and amorous wile<\/p>\n

[pg 016]<\/p>\n

Whose use they know so well,<\/p>\n

And by their witcheries seduce<\/p>\n

The unsuspecting young recluse<\/p>\n

To leave his father’s cell.<\/p>\n

Then when the boy with willing feet<\/p>\n

Shall wander from his calm retreat<\/p>\n

And in that city stand,<\/p>\n

The troubles of the king shall end,<\/p>\n

And streams of blessed rain descend<\/p>\n

Upon the thirsty land.<\/p>\n

Thus shall the holy Rishya\u015bring<\/p>\n

To Lomap\u00e1d, the mighty king,<\/p>\n

By wedlock be allied;<\/p>\n

For \u015a\u00e1nt\u00e1, fairest of the fair,<\/p>\n

In mind and grace beyond compare,<\/p>\n

Shall be his royal bride.<\/p>\n

He, at the Offering of the Steed,<\/p>\n

The flames with holy oil shall feed,<\/p>\n

And for King Da\u015baratha gain<\/p>\n

Sons whom his prayers have begged in vain.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have repeated, Sire, thus far,<\/p>\n

The words of old Sanatkum\u00e1r,<\/p>\n

In order as he spoke them then<\/p>\n

Amid the crowd of holy men.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then Da\u015baratha cried with joy,<\/p>\n

\u201cSay how they brought the hermit boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Canto IX. Rishyasring.<\/strong><\/p>\n

The wise Sumantra, thus addressed,<\/p>\n

Unfolded at the king’s behest<\/p>\n

The plan the lords in council laid<\/p>\n

To draw the hermit from the shade:<\/p>\n

\u201cThe priest, amid the lordly crowd,<\/p>\n

To Lomap\u00e1d thus spoke aloud:<\/p>\n

\u201cHear, King, the plot our thoughts have framed,<\/p>\n

A harmless trick by all unblamed.<\/p>\n

Far from the world that hermit’s child<\/p>\n

Lives lonely in the distant wild:<\/p>\n

A stranger to the joys of sense,<\/p>\n

His bliss is pain and abstinence;<\/p>\n

And all unknown are women yet<\/p>\n

To him, a holy anchoret.<\/p>\n

The gentle passions we will wake<\/p>\n

That with resistless influence shake<\/p>\n

The hearts of men; and he<\/p>\n

Drawn by enchantment strong and sweet<\/p>\n

Shall follow from his lone retreat,<\/p>\n

And come and visit thee.<\/p>\n

Let ships be formed with utmost care<\/p>\n

That artificial trees may bear,<\/p>\n

And sweet fruit deftly made;<\/p>\n

Let goodly raiment, rich and rare,<\/p>\n

And flowers, and many a bird be there<\/p>\n

Beneath the leafy shade.<\/p>\n

Upon the ships thus decked a band<\/p>\n

Of young and lovely girls shall stand,<\/p>\n

Rich in each charm that wakes desire,<\/p>\n

And eyes that burn with amorous fire;<\/p>\n

Well skilled to sing, and play, and dance<\/p>\n

And ply their trade with smile and glance<\/p>\n

Let these, attired in hermits’ dress,<\/p>\n

Betake them to the wilderness,<\/p>\n

And bring the boy of life austere<\/p>\n

A voluntary captive here.\u201d<\/p>\n

He ended; and the king agreed,<\/p>\n

By the priest’s counsel won.<\/p>\n

And all the ministers took heed<\/p>\n

To see his bidding done.<\/p>\n

In ships with wondrous art prepared<\/p>\n

Away the lovely women fared,<\/p>\n

And soon beneath the shade they stood<\/p>\n

Of the wild, lonely, dreary wood.<\/p>\n

And there the leafy cot they found<\/p>\n

Where dwelt the devotee,<\/p>\n

And looked with eager eyes around<\/p>\n

The hermit’s son to see.<\/p>\n

Still, of Vibh\u00e1\u1e47dak sore afraid,<\/p>\n

They hid behind the creepers’ shade.<\/p>\n

But when by careful watch they knew<\/p>\n

The elder saint was far from view,<\/p>\n

With bolder steps they ventured nigh<\/p>\n

To catch the youthful hermit’s eye.<\/p>\n

Then all the damsels, blithe and gay,<\/p>\n

At various games began to play.<\/p>\n

They tossed the flying ball about<\/p>\n

With dance and song and merry shout,<\/p>\n

And moved, their scented tresses bound<\/p>\n

With wreaths, in mazy motion round.<\/p>\n

Some girls as if by love possessed,<\/p>\n

Sank to the earth in feigned unrest,<\/p>\n

Up starting quickly to pursue<\/p>\n

Their intermitted game anew.<\/p>\n

It was a lovely sight to see<\/p>\n

Those fair ones, as they played,<\/p>\n

While fragrant robes were floating free,<\/p>\n

And bracelets clashing in their glee<\/p>\n

A pleasant tinkling made.<\/p>\n

The anklet’s chime, the Ko\u00efl’s82<\/a> cry<\/p>\n

With music filled the place<\/p>\n

As ’twere some city in the sky<\/p>\n

Which heavenly minstrels grace.<\/p>\n

With each voluptuous art they strove<\/p>\n

To win the tenant of the grove,<\/p>\n

And with their graceful forms inspire<\/p>\n

His modest soul with soft desire.<\/p>\n

With arch of brow, with beck and smile,<\/p>\n

With every passion-waking wile<\/p>\n

[pg 017]<\/p>\n

Of glance and lotus hand,<\/p>\n

With all enticements that excite<\/p>\n

The longing for unknown delight<\/p>\n

Which boys in vain withstand.<\/p>\n

Forth came the hermit’s son to view<\/p>\n

The wondrous sight to him so new,<\/p>\n

And gazed in rapt surprise,<\/p>\n

For from his natal hour till then<\/p>\n

On woman or the sons of men<\/p>\n

He ne’er had cast his eyes.<\/p>\n

He saw them with their waists so slim,<\/p>\n

With fairest shape and faultless limb,<\/p>\n

In variegated robes arrayed,<\/p>\n

And sweetly singing as they played.<\/p>\n

Near and more near the hermit drew,<\/p>\n

And watched them at their game,<\/p>\n

And stronger still the impulse grew<\/p>\n

To question whence they came.<\/p>\n

They marked the young ascetic gaze<\/p>\n

With curious eye and wild amaze,<\/p>\n

And sweet the long-eyed damsels sang,<\/p>\n

And shrill their merry laughter rang.<\/p>\n

Then came they nearer to his side,<\/p>\n

And languishing with passion cried:<\/p>\n

\u201cWhose son, O youth, and who art thou,<\/p>\n

Come suddenly to join us now?<\/p>\n

And why dost thou all lonely dwell<\/p>\n

In the wild wood? We pray thee, tell,<\/p>\n

We wish to know thee, gentle youth;<\/p>\n

Come, tell us, if thou wilt, the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

He gazed upon that sight he ne’er<\/p>\n

Had seen before, of girls so fair,<\/p>\n

And out of love a longing rose<\/p>\n

His sire and lineage to disclose:<\/p>\n

\u201cMy father,\u201d thus he made reply,<\/p>\n

\u201cIs Ka\u015byap’s son, a saint most high,<\/p>\n

Vibh\u00e1\u1e47dak styled; from him I came,<\/p>\n

And Rishya\u015bring he calls my name.<\/p>\n

Our hermit cot is near this place:<\/p>\n

Come thither, O ye fair of face;<\/p>\n

There be it mine, with honour due,<\/p>\n

Ye gentle youths, to welcome you.\u201d<\/p>\n

They heard his speech, and gave consent,<\/p>\n

And gladly to his cottage went.<\/p>\n

Vibh\u00e1\u1e47dak’s son received them well<\/p>\n

Beneath the shelter of his cell<\/p>\n

With guest-gift, water for their feet,<\/p>\n

And woodland fruit and roots to eat,<\/p>\n

They smiled, and spoke sweet words like these,<\/p>\n

Delighted with his courtesies:<\/p>\n

\u201cWe too have goodly fruit in store,<\/p>\n

Grown on the trees that shade our door;<\/p>\n

Come, if thou wilt, kind Hermit, haste<\/p>\n

The produce of our grove to taste;<\/p>\n

And let, O good Ascetic, first<\/p>\n

This holy water quench thy thirst.\u201d<\/p>\n

They spoke, and gave him comfits sweet<\/p>\n

Prepared ripe fruits to counterfeit;<\/p>\n

And many a dainty cate beside<\/p>\n

And luscious mead their stores supplied.<\/p>\n

The seeming fruits, in taste and look,<\/p>\n

The unsuspecting hermit took,<\/p>\n

For, strange to him, their form beguiled<\/p>\n

The dweller in the lonely wild.<\/p>\n

Then round his neck fair arms were flung,<\/p>\n

And there the laughing damsels clung,<\/p>\n

And pressing nearer and more near<\/p>\n

With sweet lips whispered at his ear;<\/p>\n

While rounded limb and swelling breast<\/p>\n

The youthful hermit softly pressed.<\/p>\n

The pleasing charm of that strange bowl,<\/p>\n

The touch of a tender limb,<\/p>\n

Over his yielding spirit stole<\/p>\n

And sweetly vanquished him.<\/p>\n

But vows, they said, must now be paid;<\/p>\n

They bade the boy farewell,<\/p>\n

And, of the aged saint afraid,<\/p>\n

Prepared to leave the dell.<\/p>\n

With ready guile they told him where<\/p>\n

Their hermit dwelling lay:<\/p>\n

Then, lest the sire should find them there,<\/p>\n

Sped by wild paths away.<\/p>\n

They fled and left him there alone<\/p>\n

By longing love possessed;<\/p>\n

And with a heart no more his own<\/p>\n

He roamed about distressed.<\/p>\n

The aged saint came home, to find<\/p>\n

The hermit boy distraught,<\/p>\n

Revolving in his troubled mind<\/p>\n

One solitary thought.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy dost thou not, my son,\u201d he cried,<\/p>\n

\u201cThy due obeisance pay?<\/p>\n

Why do I see thee in the tide<\/p>\n

Of whelming thought to-day?<\/p>\n

A devotee should never wear<\/p>\n

A mien so sad and strange.<\/p>\n

Come, quickly, dearest child, declare<\/p>\n

The reason of the change.\u201d<\/p>\n

And Rishya\u015bring, when questioned thus,<\/p>\n

Made answer in this wise:<\/p>\n

\u201cO sire, there came to visit us<\/p>\n

Some men with lovely eyes.<\/p>\n

About my neck soft arms they wound<\/p>\n

And kept me tightly held<\/p>\n

To tender breasts so soft and round,<\/p>\n

That strangely heaved and swelled.<\/p>\n

They sing more sweetly as they dance<\/p>\n

Than e’er I heard till now,<\/p>\n

And play with many a sidelong glance<\/p>\n

And arching of the brow.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy son,\u201d said he, \u201cthus giants roam<\/p>\n

Where holy hermits are,<\/p>\n

And wander round their peaceful home<\/p>\n

Their rites austere to mar.<\/p>\n

I charge thee, thou must never lay<\/p>\n

Thy trust in them, dear boy:<\/p>\n

They seek thee only to betray,<\/p>\n

And woo but to destroy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Thus having warned him of his foes<\/p>\n

That night at home he spent.<\/p>\n

And when the morrow’s sun arose<\/p>\n

[pg 018]<\/p>\n

Forth to the forest went.<\/p>\n

But Rishya\u015bring with eager pace<\/p>\n

Sped forth and hurried to the place<\/p>\n

Where he those visitants had seen<\/p>\n

Of daintly waist and charming mien.<\/p>\n

When from afar they saw the son<\/p>\n

Of Saint Vibh\u00e1\u1e47dak toward them run,<\/p>\n

To meet the hermit boy they hied,<\/p>\n

And hailed him with a smile, and cried:<\/p>\n

\u201cO come, we pray, dear lord, behold<\/p>\n

Our lovely home of which we told<\/p>\n

Due honour there to thee we’ll pay,<\/p>\n

And speed thee on thy homeward way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pleased with the gracious words they said<\/p>\n

He followed where the damsels led.<\/p>\n

As with his guides his steps he bent,<\/p>\n

That Br\u00e1hman high of worth,<\/p>\n

A flood of rain from heaven was sent<\/p>\n

That gladdened all the earth.<\/p>\n

Vibh\u00e1\u1e47dak took his homeward road,<\/p>\n

And wearied by the heavy load<\/p>\n

Of roots and woodland fruit he bore<\/p>\n

Entered at last his cottage door.<\/p>\n

Fain for his son he looked around,<\/p>\n

But desolate the cell he found.<\/p>\n

He stayed not then to bathe his feet,<\/p>\n

Though fainting with the toil and heat,<\/p>\n

But hurried forth and roamed about<\/p>\n

Calling the boy with cry and shout,<\/p>\n

He searched the wood, but all in vain;<\/p>\n

Nor tidings of his son could gain.<\/p>\n

One day beyond the forest’s bound<\/p>\n

The wandering saint a village found,<\/p>\n

And asked the swains and neatherds there<\/p>\n

Who owned the land so rich and fair,<\/p>\n

With all the hamlets of the plain,<\/p>\n

And herds of kine and fields of grain.<\/p>\n

They listened to the hermit’s words,<\/p>\n

And all the guardians of the herds,<\/p>\n

With suppliant hands together pressed,<\/p>\n

This answer to the saint addressed:<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Angas’ lord who bears the name<\/p>\n

Of Lomap\u00e1d, renowned by fame,<\/p>\n

Bestowed these hamlets with their kine<\/p>\n

And all their riches, as a sign<\/p>\n

Of grace, on Rishya\u015bring: and he<\/p>\n

Vibh\u00e1\u1e47dak’s son is said to be.\u201d<\/p>\n

The hermit with exulting breast<\/p>\n

The mighty will of fate confessed,<\/p>\n

By meditation’s eye discerned;<\/p>\n

And cheerful to his home returned.<\/p>\n

A stately ship, at early morn,<\/p>\n

The hermit’s son away had borne.<\/p>\n

Loud roared the clouds, as on he sped,<\/p>\n

The sky grew blacker overhead;<\/p>\n

Till, as he reached the royal town,<\/p>\n

A mighty flood of rain came down.<\/p>\n

By the great rain the monarch’s mind<\/p>\n

The coming of his guest divined.<\/p>\n

To meet the honoured youth he went,<\/p>\n

And low to earth his head he bent.<\/p>\n

With his own priest to lead the train,<\/p>\n

He gave the gift high guests obtain.<\/p>\n

And sought, with all who dwelt within<\/p>\n

The city walls, his grace to win.<\/p>\n

He fed him with the daintiest fare,<\/p>\n

He served him with unceasing care,<\/p>\n

And ministered with anxious eyes<\/p>\n

Lest anger in his breast should rise;<\/p>\n

And gave to be the Br\u00e1hman’s bride<\/p>\n

His own fair daughter, lotus-eyed.<\/p>\n

Thus loved and honoured by the king,<\/p>\n

The glorious Br\u00e1hman Rishya\u015bring<\/p>\n

Passed in that royal town his life<\/p>\n

With \u015a\u00e1nt\u00e1 his beloved wife.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\t\t\t

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Candela Citations<\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t
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Public domain content<\/div>