Ramayana on Charity

Now with two arms I thee invest Of never-ending Sleep and Rest, With weapons of the Sun and Rain, And those that dry and burn amain; And strong Desire with conquering touch, The dart that Kama prizes much. I give the arm of shadowy powers That bleeding flesh of men devours. I give the arms the God of Gold And giant fiends exult to hold. This smites the foe in battle-strife, And takes his fortune, strength, and life. I give the arms called False and True, And great Illusion give I too; The hero's arm called Strong and Bright That spoils the foeman's strength in fight. I give thee as a priceless boon The Dew, the weapon of the Moon, And add the weapon, deftly planned, That strengthens Visvakarma's hand. The Mortal dart whose point is chill, And Slaughter, ever sure to kill; All these and other arms, for thou Art very dear, I give thee now. Receive these weapons from my hand, Son of the noblest in the land."

The great Vasishtha, thus addressed, Made answer to the king's request: "Ne'er will I give my cow away, My gem, my wealth, my life and stay. My worship at the moon's first show, And at the full, to her I owe; And sacrifices small and great, Which largess due and gifts await. From her alone, their root, O King, My rites and holy service spring. What boots it further words to say? I will not give my cow away Who yields me what I ask each day."

Then with a gift the saints drew near To Bhrigu's son whose look was fear, And Rama! Rama! soft they cried. The gift he took, no word replied. Then Bhrigu's son his silence broke And thus to Rama Rama spoke:

Before the saint Vasishtha stood All those who wrought with stone and wood, And showed the work which every one In furtherance of the rite had done, Rejoiced their ready zeal to see, Thus to the craftsmen all said he: "I charge ye, masters, see to this, That there be nothing done amiss, And this, I pray, in mind be borne, That not one gift ye give in scorn: Whenever scorn a gift attends Great sin is his who thus offends." And now some days and nights had past, And kings began to gather fast, And precious gems in liberal store As gifts to Dasaratha bore. Then joy thrilled through Vasishtha's breast As thus the monarch he addressed: "Obedient to thy high decree The kings, my lord, are come to thee. And it has been my care to greet And honour all with reverence meet. Thy servants' task is ended quite, And all is ready for the rite. Come forth then to the sacred ground Where all in order will be found." Then Rishyasring confirmed the tale: Nor did their words to move him fail. The stars propitious influence lent When forth the world's great ruler went. Then by the sage Vasishtha led The priest begun to speed Those glorious rites wherein is shed The lifeblood of the steed.

Then, host to host, we met the foes, And fierce the din of battle rose, Sudhanva, foremost of his band, Fell smitten by my single hand. When thus Sankasya's lord was slain, I sanctified, as laws ordain, My brother in his stead to reign, Thus are we brothers, Saint most high The younger he, the elder I. Now, mighty Sage, my spirit joys To give these maidens to the boys. Let Sita be to Rama tied. And Urmila be Lakshman's bride. First give, O King, the gift of cows, As dowry of each royal spouse, Due offerings to the spirits pay, And solemnize the wedding-day. The moon tonight, O royal Sage, In Magha's(252) House takes harbourage; On the third night his rays benign In second Phalguni(253) will shine: Be that the day, with prosperous fate, The nuptial rites to celebrate."

How, urged by stress of any ill, Should sons their father's life-blood spill, Or brother slay in impious strife A brother dearer than his life? If thou these cruel words hast said By strong desire of empire led, My brother Bharat will I pray To give to thee the kingly sway. "Give him the realm," my speech shall be, And Bharat will, methinks, agree."

That speech so noble which conveyed His friendly wish, the chief obeyed, With steps made swift by anxious thought The wise Suyajna's home he sought. Him in the hall of Fire(307) he found, And bent before him to the ground: "O friend, to Rama's house return, Who now performs a task most stern." He, when his noonday rites were done, Went forth with fair Sumitra's son, And came to Rama's bright abode Rich in the love which Lakshmi showed. The son of Raghu, with his dame, With joined hands met him as he came, Showing to him who Scripture knew The worship that is Agni's due. With armlets, bracelets, collars, rings, With costly pearls on golden strings, With many a gem for neck and limb The son of Raghu honoured him. Then Rama, at his wife's request, The wise Suyajna thus addressed: "Accept a necklace too to deck With golden strings thy spouse's neck. And Sita here, my friend, were glad A girdle to her gift to add. And many a bracelet wrought with care, And many an armlet rich and rare, My wife to thine is fain to give, Departing in the wood to live. A bed by skilful workmen made, With gold and various gems inlaid-- This too, before she goes, would she Present, O saintly friend, to thee. Thine be my elephant, so famed, My uncle's present, Victor named; And let a thousand coins of gold, Great Brahman, with the gift be told." Thus Rama spoke: nor he declined The noble gifts for him designed. On Rama, Lakshman, Sita he Invoked all high felicity.

As on the long-eyed lady strayed, On holy grass, whose points were laid Directed to the southern sky, The funeral offering met her eye. When Rama's humble gift she spied Thus to the queens Kausalya cried: "The gift of Rama's hand behold, His tribute to the king high-souled, Offered to him, as texts require, Lord of Ikshvaku's line, his sire! Not such I deem the funeral food Of kings with godlike might endued. Can he who knew all pleasures, he Who ruled the earth from sea to sea, The mighty lord of monarchs, feed On Ingudi's extracted seed? In all the world there cannot be A woe, I ween, more sad to see, Than that my glorious son should make His funeral gift of such a cake. The ancient text I oft have heard This day is true in every word: "Ne'er do the blessed Gods refuse To eat the food their children use.' "

Before the prince's eyes was laid That marvel, as the Brahman prayed. One moment on the bow he gazed, Quick to the notch the string he raised, Then, in the wandering people's view, The cord with mighty force he drew. Then with an awful crash as loud As thunderbolts that cleave the cloud, The bow beneath the matchless strain Of arms heroic snapped in twain. Thus, giving purest water, he, My sire, to Rama offered me. The prince the offered gift declined Till he should learn his father's mind; So horsemen swift Ayodhya sought And back her aged monarch brought. Me then my sire to Rama gave, Self-ruled, the bravest of the brave. And Urmila, the next to me, Graced with all gifts, most fair to see, My sire with Raghu's house allied, And gave her to be Lakshman's bride. Thus from the princes of the land Lord Rama won my maiden hand, And him exalted high above Heroic chiefs I truly love."

By crafty knaves these rules were framed, And to enforce men's gifts proclaimed: "Give, worship, lead a life austere, Keep lustral rites, quit pleasures here." There is no future life: be wise, And do, O Prince, as I advise. Enjoy, my lord, the present bliss, And things unseen from thought dismiss. Let this advice thy bosom move, The counsel sage which all approve; To Bharat's earnest prayer incline, And take the rule so justly thine."

The circling year had filled its course, And back was brought the wandering horse: Then upon Sarju's northern strand Began the rite the king had planned. With Rishyasring the forms to guide, The Brahmans to their task applied, At that great offering of the steed Their lofty-minded king decreed. The priests, who all the Scripture knew, Performed their part in order due, And circled round in solemn train As precepts of the law ordain. Pravargya rites(92) were duly sped: For Upasads(93) the flames were fed. Then from the plant(94) the juice was squeezed, And those high saints with minds well pleased Performed the mystic rites begun With bathing ere the rise of sun They gave the portion Indra's claim, And hymned the King whom none can blame. The mid-day bathing followed next, Observed as bids the holy text. Then the good priests with utmost care, In form that Scripture's rules declare, For the third time pure water shed On high souled Dasaratha's head. Then Rishyasring and all the rest To Indra and the Gods addressed Their sweet-toned hymn of praise and prayer, And called them in the rite to share. With sweetest song and hymn entoned They gave the Gods in heaven enthroned, As duty bids, the gifts they claim, The holy oil that feeds the flame. And many an offering there was paid, And not one slip in all was made. For with most careful heed they saw That all was done by Veda law. None, all those days, was seen oppressed By hunger or by toil distressed. Why speak of human kind? No beast Was there that lacked an ample feast. For there was store for all who came, For orphan child and lonely dame; The old and young were well supplied, The poor and hungry satisfied. Throughout the day ascetics fed, And those who roam to beg their bread: While all around the cry was still, "Give forth, give forth," and "Eat your fill." "Give forth with liberal hand the meal, And various robes in largess deal."

She conscious that her lord approved Her going, with great rapture moved, Hastened within, without delay, Prepared to give their wealth away.

The hermit heard with high content That speech so wondrous eloquent, And while each hair with joy arose,(142) He thus made answer at the close: "Good is thy speech O noble King, And like thyself in everything. So should their lips be wisdom-fraught Whom kings begot, Vasishtha taught. The favour which I came to seek Thou grantest ere my tongue can speak. But let my tale attention claim, And hear the need for which I came. O King, as Scripture texts allow, A holy rite employs me now. Two fiends who change their forms at will Impede that rite with cursed skill.(143) Oft when the task is nigh complete, These worst of fiends my toil defeat, Throw bits of bleeding flesh, and o'er The altar shed a stream of gore. When thus the rite is mocked and stayed, And all my pious hopes delayed, Cast down in heart the spot I leave, And spent with fruitless labour grieve. Nor can I, checked by prudence, dare Let loose my fury on them there: The muttered curse, the threatening word, In such a rite must ne'er be heard. Thy grace the rite from check can free. And yield the fruit I long to see. Thy duty bids thee, King, defend The suffering guest, the suppliant friend. Give me thy son, thine eldest born, Whom locks like raven's wings adorn. That hero youth, the truly brave, Of thee, O glorious King, I crave. For he can lay those demons low Who mar my rites and work me woe: My power shall shield the youth from harm, And heavenly might shall nerve his arm. And on my champion will I shower Unnumbered gifts of varied power, Such gifts as shall ensure his fame And spread through all the worlds his name. Be sure those fiends can never stand Before the might of Rama's hand, And mid the best and bravest none Can slay that pair but Raghu's son. Entangled in the toils of Fate Those sinners, proud and obstinate, Are, in their fury overbold, No match for Rama mighty-souled. Nor let a father's breast give way Too far to fond affection's sway.

Thus Bharadvaja spake, and trained In lore of duty, entertained The princes and the dame, and pressed His friendly gifts on every guest.

She spake; the lady's meek reply Swelled Anasuya's rapture high. "Sita," she said, "my gift to-day Thy sweet contentment shall repay. Accept this precious robe to wear, Of heavenly fabric, rich and rare, These gems thy limbs to ornament, This precious balsam sweet of scent. O Maithil dame, this gift of mine Shall make thy limbs with beauty shine, And breathing o'er thy frame dispense Its pure and lasting influence. This balsam on thy fair limbs spread New radiance on thy lord shall shed, As Lakshmi's beauty lends a grace To Vishnu's own celestial face."

"Go to my queen: this message give: Say Lakshman and Sugriva live. The death of Lanka's monarch tell, And bid her joy, for all is well."

"Again, O best of kings, give ear: My saving words attentive hear, And listen to the tale of old By that illustrious Brahman told. "Of famed Ikshvaku's line shall spring ('Twas thus he spoke) a pious king, Named Dasaratha, good and great, True to his word and fortunate. He with the Angas' mighty lord Shall ever live in sweet accord, And his a daughter fair shall be, Santa of happy destiny. But Lomapad, the Angas' chief, Still pining in his childless grief, To Dasaratha thus shall say: "Give me thy daughter, friend, I pray, Thy Santa of the tranquil mind, The noblest one of womankind."

In pleasant words then Rama gave His best to Lakshman prompt and brave, As Brahma speaks for Him to hear Who rules the Gods' celestial sphere: "To the two best of Brahmans run; Agastya bring, and Kusik's son, And precious gifts upon them rain, Like fostering floods upon the grain. O long-armed Prince of Raghu's line, Delight them with a thousand kine, And many a fair and costly gem, With gold and silver, give to them. To him, so deep in Scripture, who, To Queen Kausalya, ever true, Serves her with blessing and respect, Chief of the Taittiriya sect(308)-- To him, with women-slaves, present A chariot rich with ornament, And costly robes of silk beside, Until the sage be satisfied. On Chitraratha, true and dear, My tuneful bard and charioteer, Gems, robes, and plenteous wealth confer-- Mine ancient friend and minister. And these who go with staff in hand, Grammarians trained, a numerous band, Who their deep study only prize, Nor think of other exercise, Who toil not, loving dainty fare, Whose praises e'en the good declare-- On these be eighty cars bestowed, And each with precious treasures load. A thousand bulls for them suffice, Two hundred elephants of price, And let a thousand kine beside The dainties of each meal provide. The throng who sacred girdles wear, And on Kausalya wait with care-- A thousand golden coins shall please, Son of Sumitra, each of these. Let all, dear Lakshman of the train These special gifts of honour gain: My mother will rejoice to know Her Brahmans have been cherished so."

The monarch watched the sacred rite, When a vast form of awful might, Of matchless splendour, strength, and size Was manifest before his eyes. From forth the sacrificial flame, Dark, robed in red, the being came. His voice was drumlike, loud and low, His face suffused with rosy glow. Like a huge lion's mane appeared The long locks of his hair and beard. He shone with many a lucky sign, And many an ornament divine; A towering mountain in his height, A tiger in his gait and might. No precious mine more rich could be, No burning flame more bright than he. His arms embraced in loving hold, Like a dear wife, a vase of gold Whose silver lining held a draught Of nectar as in heaven is quaffed: A vase so vast, so bright to view, They scarce could count the vision true. Upon the king his eyes he bent, And said: "The Lord of life has sent His servant down, O Prince, to be A messenger from heaven to thee." The king with all his nobles by Raised reverent hands and made reply: "Welcome, O glorious being! Say How can my care thy grace repay." Envoy of Him whom all adore Thus to the king he spake once more: "The Gods accept thy worship: they Give thee the blessed fruit to-day. Approach and take, O glorious King, This heavenly nectar which I bring, For it shall give thee sons and wealth, And bless thee with a store of health. Give it to those fair queens of thine, And bid them quaff the drink divine: And they the princely sons shall bear Long sought by sacrifice and prayer."

Then Guha the Nishadas' king Replied to Bharat's questioning: "Of all I had I brought the best To serve my good and honoured guest Food of each varied kind I chose, And every fairest fruit that grows. Rama the hero truly brave Declined the gift I humbly gave: His Warrior part he ne'er forgot, And what I brought accepted not: "No gifts, my friend, may we accept: Our law is, Give, and must be kept." The high-souled chief, O Monarch, thus With gracious words persuaded us. Then calm and still, absorbed in thought, He drank the water Lakshman brought, And then, obedient to his vows, He fasted with his gentle spouse. So Lakshman too from food abstained, And sipped the water that remained: Then with ruled lips, devoutly staid, The three(362) their evening worship paid. Then Lakshman with unwearied care Brought heaps of sacred grass, and there With his own hands he quickly spread, For Rama's rest, a pleasant bed, And faithful Sita's too, where they Reclining each by other lay. Then Lakshman bathed their feet, and drew A little distance from the two. Here stands the tree which lent them shade, Here is the grass beneath it laid, Where Rama and his consort spent The night together ere they went. Lakshman, whose arms the foeman quell, Watched all the night as sentinel, And kept his great bow strung: His hand was gloved, his arm was braced, Two well-filled quivers at his waist, With deadly arrows, hung. I took my shafts and trusty bow, And with that tamer of the foe Stood ever wakeful near, And with my followers, bow in hand, Behind me ranged, a ready band, Kept watch o'er Indra's peer."

Upon fair Sarju's southern shore They now had walked a league and more, When thus the sage in accents mild To Rama said: "Beloved child, This lustral water duly touch: My counsel will avail thee much. Forget not all the words I say, Nor let the occasion slip away. Lo, with two spells I thee invest, The mighty and the mightiest. O'er thee fatigue shall ne'er prevail, Nor age or change thy limbs assail. Thee powers of darkness ne'er shall smite In tranquil sleep or wild delight. No one is there in all the land Thine equal for the vigorous hand. Thou, when thy lips pronounce the spell, Shalt have no peer in heaven or hell. None in the world with thee shall vie, O sinless one, in apt reply, In fortune, knowledge, wit, and tact, Wisdom to plan and skill to act. This double science take, and gain Glory that shall for aye remain. Wisdom and judgment spring from each Of these fair spells whose use I teach. Hunger and thirst unknown to thee, High in the worlds thy rank shall be. For these two spells with might endued, Are the Great Father's heavenly brood, And thee, O Chief, may fitly grace, Thou glory of Kakutstha's race. Virtues which none can match are thine, Lord, from thy birth, of gifts divine, And now these spells of might shall cast Fresh radiance o'er the gifts thou hast." Then Rama duly touched the wave, Raised suppliant hands, bowed low his head, And took the spells the hermit gave, Whose soul on contemplation fed. From him whose might these gifts enhanced, A brighter beam of glory glanced: So shines in all his autumn blaze The Day-God of the thousand rays. The hermit's wants those youths supplied, As pupils use to holy guide. And then the night in sweet content On Sarju's pleasant bank they spent.

Count thou the fiends already slain: My word is pledged, nor pledged in vain. I know the hero Rama well In whom high thoughts and valour dwell; So does Vasishtha, so do these Engaged in long austerities. If thou would do the righteous deed, And win high fame, thy virtue's meed, Fame that on earth shall last and live, To me, great King, thy Rama give. If to the words that I have said, With Saint Vasishtha at their head Thy holy men, O King, agree, Then let thy Rama go with me. Ten nights my sacrifice will last, And ere the stated time be past Those wicked fiends, those impious twain, Must fall by wondrous Rama slain. Let not the hours, I warn thee, fly, Fixt for the rite, unheeded by; Good luck have thou, O royal Chief, Nor give thy heart to needless grief."

"This royal bird with faithful thought For my advantage strove and fought. Slain by the fiend in mortal strife For me he yields his noble life. See, Lakshman, how his wounds have bled; His struggling breath will soon have fled. Faint is his voice, and near to die, He scarce can lift his trembling eye. Jatayus, if thou still can speak, Give, give the answer that I seek. The fate of ravished Sita tell, And how thy mournful chance befell. Say why the giant stole my dame: What have I done that he could blame? What fault in me has Ravan seen That he should rob me of my queen? How looked the lady's moon-bright cheek? What were the words she found to speak? His strength, his might, his deeds declare: And tell the form he loves to wear. To all my questions make reply: Where does the giant's dwelling lie?"

That night they slept and took their rest; And then the mighty saint addressed, With pleasant smile and accents mild These words to Raghu's princely child: "Well pleased am I. High fate be thine, Thou scion of a royal line. Now will I, for I love thee so, All heavenly arms on thee bestow. Victor with these, whoe'er oppose, Thy hand shall conquer all thy foes, Though Gods and spirits of the air, Serpents and fiends, the conflict dare. I'll give thee as a pledge of love The mystic arms they use above, For worthy thou to have revealed The weapons I have learnt to wield.(165) First, son of Raghu, shall be thine The arm of Vengeance, strong, divine: The arm of Fate, the arm of Right, And Vishnu's arm of awful might: That, before which no foe can stand, The thunderbolt of Indra's hand; And Siva's trident, sharp and dread, And that dire weapon Brahma's Head. And two fair clubs, O royal child, One Charmer and one Pointed styled With flame of lambent fire aglow, On thee, O Chieftain, I bestow. And Fate's dread net and Justice' noose That none may conquer, for thy use: And the great cord, renowned of old, Which Varun ever loves to hold. Take these two thunderbolts, which I Have got for thee, the Moist and Dry. Here Siva's dart to thee I yield, And that which Vishnu wont to wield. I give to thee the arm of Fire, Desired by all and named the Spire. To thee I grant the Wind-God's dart, Named Crusher, O thou pure of heart, This arm, the Horse's Head, accept, And this, the Curlew's Bill yclept, And these two spears, the best e'er flew, Named the Invincible and True. And arms of fiends I make thine own, Skull-wreath and mace that smashes bone. And Joyous, which the spirits bear, Great weapon of the sons of air. Brave offspring of the best of lords, I give thee now the Gem of swords, And offer next, thine hand to arm, The heavenly bards' beloved charm.

Thus goaded, like a generous steed Urged by sharp spurs to double speed, "My senses are astray," he cried, "And duty's bonds my hands have tied. I long to see mine eldest son, My virtuous, my beloved one."

"What fame, from one thou hast not slain In front of battle, canst thou gain, Whose secret hand has laid me low When madly fighting with my foe? From every tongue thy glory rings, A scion of a line of kings, True to thy vows, of noblest race, With every gentle gift and grace: Whose tender heart for woe can feel, And joy in every creature's weal: Whose breast with high ambition swells, Knows duty's claim and ne'er rebels. They praise thy valour, patience, ruth, Thy firmness, self-restraint, and truth: Thy hand prepared for sin's control, All virtues of a princely soul. I thought of all these gifts of thine, And glories of an ancient line, I set my Tara's tears at naught, I met Sugriva and we fought. O Rama, till this fatal morn I held that thou wouldst surely scorn To strike me as I fought my foe And thought not of a stranger's blow, But now thine evil heart is shown, A yawning well with grass o'ergrown. Thou wearest virtue's badge,(588) but guile And meanest sin thy soul defile. I took thee not for treacherous fire, A sinner clad in saint's attire; Nor deemed thou idly wouldst profess The show and garb of righteousness. In fenced town, in open land, Ne'er hast thou suffered at this hand, Nor canst of proud contempt complain: Then wherefore is the guiltless slain? My harmless life in woods I lead, On forest fruits and roots I feed. My foeman in the field I sought, And ne'er with thee, O Rama, fought. Upon thy limbs, O King, I see The raiment of a devotee; And how can one like thee, who springs From a proud line of ancient kings, Beneath fair virtue's mask, disgrace His lineage by a deed so base? From Raghu is thy long descent, For duteous deeds preeminent: Why, sinner clad in saintly dress, Roamest thou through the wilderness? Truth, valour, justice free from spot, The hand that gives and grudges not, The might that strikes the sinner down, These bring a prince his best renown. Here in the woods, O King, we live On roots and fruit which branches give.

Stay for a while, O Ravan, stay, One hour thy flying car delay, And from that glorious chariot thou Shalt fall like fruit from shaken bough, For I to thee, while yet I live, The welcome of a foe will give."

Then why, O Lord of Vanars, still Delay us waiting for thy will? Give thy commands, O King, and say What task has each and where the way. Before thee myriad Vanars stand To sweep through heaven, o'er seas and land."

"Does Rama's mother give away Rich largess to the crowds to-day, On some dear object fondly bent, Or blest with measureless content? What mean these signs of rare delight On every side that meet my sight? Say, will the king with joy elate Some happy triumph celebrate?"

Thus, by fraternal love possessed, His firm resolve the prince expressed, Then to Sumantra, deeply read In holy texts, he turned and said: "Sumantra, rise without delay, And as I bid my words obey. Give orders for the march with speed, And all the army hither lead."

Sumantra, urged to utmost speed, Yoked to the car each generous steed, And then, with hand to hand applied, He came before the chief and cried: "Hail, Prince, whom mighty arms adorn, Hail, bravest of the chariot-borne! With Sita and thy brother thou Mayst mount: the car is ready now."

"Not if the Gods in heaven who dwell, Gandharvas, and the fiends of hell In banded opposition rise Against me, will I yield my prize. Still trembling from the ungentle touch Of Vanar hands ye fear too much, And bid me, heedless of the shame, Give to her lord the Maithil dame."

Doubt from Sugriva's heart had fled, And thus to Raghu's son he said: "No bliss the Gods of heaven deny. Each views me with a favouring eye, When thou, whom all good gifts attend, Hast sought me and become my friend. Leagued, friend, with thee in bold emprise My arm might win the conquered skies; And shall our banded strength be weak To gain the realm which now I seek? A happy fate was mine above My kith and kin and all I love, When, near the witness fire, I won Thy friendship, Raghu's glorious son. Thou too in ripening time shall see Thy friend not all unworthy thee. What gifts I have shall thus be shown: Not mine the tongue to make them known. Strong is the changeless bond that binds The friendly faith of noble minds, In woe, in danger, firm and sure Their constancy and love endure. Gold, silver, jewels rich and rare They count as wealth for friends to share. Yea, be they rich or poor and low, Blest with all joys or sunk in woe, Stained with each fault or pure of blame, Their friends the nearest place may claim; For whom they leave, at friendship's call, Their gold, their bliss, their homes and all."

But Ravan scorned the rede he gave In timely words to warn and save, E'en as the wretch who hates to live Rejects the herb the leeches give. By fate to sin and ruin spurred, That sage advice the giant heard, Then in reproaches hard and stern Thus to Maricha spoke in turn:

And for the son of Raghu's sake The toil and danger undertake: For breach of faith were grievous wrong, Nor wouldst thou be unpunished long. Now, brother, take this chain of gold, Gift of celestial hands of old, Or when I die its charm will flee, And all its might be lost with me."

Then, hissing like a furious snake, The fiend again to Sita spake: "Deaf to all prayers and threats art thou, Devoted to thy senseless vow. No longer respite will I give, And thou this day shalt cease to live; For I, as sunlight kills the morn, Will slay thee for thy scathe and scorn."

He questioned thus: and she began To tell her deeds and crafty plan. Deceitful-hearted, fond, and blind As is the way of womankind: "No Brahman's wealth has Rama seized, No dame his wandering fancy pleased; His very eyes he ne'er allows To gaze upon a neighbour's spouse. But when I heard the monarch planned To give the realm to Rama's hand, I prayed that Rama hence might flee, And claimed the throne, my son, for thee. The king maintained the name he bare, And did according to my prayer, And Rama, with his brother, sent, And Sita, forth to banishment. When his dear son was seen no more, The lord of earth was troubled sore: Too feeble with his grief to strive, He joined the elemental Five. Up then, most dutiful! maintain The royal state, arise, and reign. For thee, my darling son, for thee All this was planned and wrought by me. Come, cast thy grief and pain aside, With manly courage fortified. This town and realm are all thine own, And fear and grief are here unknown. Come, with Vasishtha's guiding aid, And priests in ritual skilled Let the king's funeral dues be paid, And every claim fulfilled. Perform his obsequies with all That suits his rank and worth, Then give the mandate to install Thyself as lord of earth."

Soon as he saw the prince's mind To rest that day was well inclined, He sought Kaikeyi's son to please With hospitable courtesies. Then Bharat to the saint replied: "Our wants are more than satisfied. The gifts which honoured strangers greet, And water for our weary feet Hast thou bestowed with friendly care, And every choice of woodland fare."

When the king comes still mournful lie, Speak not a word nor meet his eye, But let thy tears in torrent flow, And lie enamoured of thy woe. Well do I know thou long hast been, And ever art, his darling queen. For thy dear sake, O well-loved dame, The mighty king would brave the flame, But ne'er would anger thee, or brook To meet his favourite's wrathful look. Thy loving lord would even die Thy fancy, Queen, to gratify, And never could he arm his breast To answer nay to thy request. Listen and learn, O dull of sense, Thine all-resistless influence. Gems he will offer, pearls and gold: Refuse his gifts, be stern and cold. Those proffered boons at length recall, And claim them till he grants thee all. And O my lady, high in bliss, With heedful thought forget not this. When from the ground his queen he lifts And grants again the promised gifts, Bind him with oaths he cannot break And thy demands unflnching, make. That Rama travel to the wild Five years and nine from home exiled, And Bharat, best of all who reign, The empire of the land obtain. For when this term of years has fled Over the banished Rama's head, Thy royal son to vigour grown And rooted firm will stand alone. The king, I know, is well inclined, And this the hour to move his mind. Be bold: the threatened rite prevent, And force the king from his intent."

On piles of holy Fig-tree raised The meaner victims' bodies blazed: The steed, of all the creatures slain, Alone required a pile of cane. Three days, as is by law decreed, Lasted that Offering of the Steed. The Chatushtom began the rite, And when the sun renewed his light, The Ukthya followed: after came The Atiratra's holy flame. These were the rites, and many more Arranged by light of holy lore, The Aptoryam of mighty power, And, each performed in proper hour, The Abhijit and Visvajit With every form and service fit; And with the sacrifice at night The Jyotishtom and Ayus rite.(103) The task was done, as laws prescribe: The monarch, glory of his tribe, Bestowed the land in liberal grants Upon the sacred ministrants. He gave the region of the east, His conquest, to the Hotri priest. The west, the celebrant obtained: The south, the priest presiding gained: The northern region was the share Of him who chanted forth the prayer,(104) Thus did each priest obtain his meed At the great Slaughter of the Steed, Ordained, the best of all to be, By self-existent deity. Ikshvaku's son with joyful mind This noble fee to each assigned, But all the priests with one accord Addressed that unpolluted lord: "Tis thine alone to keep the whole Of this broad earth in firm control. No gift of lands from thee we seek: To guard these realms our hands were weak. On sacred lore our days are spent: Let other gifts our wants content."

"Yea, for my father's promise sake I to the wood my way will take, And dwell a lonely exile there In hermit dress with matted hair. One thing alone I fain would learn, Why is the king this day so stern? Why is the scourge of foes so cold, Nor gives me greeting as of old? Now let not anger flush thy cheek: Before thy face the truth I speak, In hermit's coat with matted hair To the wild wood will I repair. How can I fail his will to do, Friend, master, grateful sovereign too? One only pang consumes my breast: That his own lips have not expressed His will, nor made his longing known That Bharat should ascend the throne. To Bharat I would yield my wife, My realm and wealth, mine own dear life, Unasked I fain would yield them all: More gladly at my father's call, More gladly when the gift may free His honour and bring joy to thee. Thus, lady, his sad heart release From the sore shame, and give him peace. But tell me, O, I pray thee, why The lord of men, with downcast eye, Lies prostrate thus, and one by one Down his pale cheek the tear-drops run. Let couriers to thy father speed On horses of the swiftest breed, And, by the mandate of the king, Thy Bharat to his presence bring. My father's words I will not stay To question, but this very day To Dandak's pathless wild will fare, For twice seven years an exile there."

Thus Rama spoke; and Lakshman taught In all the art that utters thought, To King Sugriva's learned spy Thus made his eloquent reply: "Full well we know the gifts that grace Sugriva, lord of Vanar race, And hither turn our wandering feet That we that high-souled king may meet. So now our pleasant task shall be To do the words he speaks by thee."

Their tender love the people drew To follow Rama brave and true, The high-souled hero, as he went Forth from his home to banishment. The king himself his friends obeyed, And turned him homeward as they prayed. But yet the people turned not back, Still close on Rama's chariot track. For they who in Ayodhya dwelt For him such fond affection felt, Decked with all grace and glories high, The dear full moon of every eye. Though much his people prayed and wept, Kakutstha's son his purpose kept, And still his journey would pursue To keep the king his father true. Deep in the hero's bosom sank Their love, whose signs his glad eye drank. He spoke to cheer them, as his own Dear children, in a loving tone: "If ye would grant my fond desire, Give Bharat now that love entire And reverence shown to me by all Who dwell within Ayodhya's wall. For he, Kaikeyi's darling son, His virtuous career will run, And ever bound by duty's chain Consult your weal and bliss and gain. In judgment old, in years a child, With hero virtues meek and mild, A fitting lord is he to cheer His people and remove their fear. In him all kingly gifts abound, More noble than in me are found: Imperial prince, well proved and tried-- Obey him as your lord and guide. And grant, I pray, the boon I ask: To please the king be still your task, That his fond heart, while I remain Far in the wood, may feel no pain."

Then Bharat rose: his hand he dipped, And purifying water sipped: "Each citizen," he cried, "give ear, Attend, each counsellor and peer. My mother planned, by me untaught, To win the sway I never sought: Ne'er Raghu's son could I despise, In duty's lore supremely wise. Now if obedience to our sire This dwelling in the woods require, I, till the destined years be spent, Will dwell alone in banishment."

Then Rama paid the reverence due, Mounted the chariot, and withdrew, And to his splendid dwelling drove While crowds to show him honour strove. The people, when the monarch's speech Their willing ears had heard, Were wild with joy as though on each Great gifts had been conferred. With meek and low salute each man Turned to his home away, And there with happy heart began To all the Gods to pray.

Struck down with overwhelming shame She shrank within her trembling frame. Each word of Rama's like a dart Had pierced the lady to the heart; And from her sweet eyes unrestrained The torrent of her sorrows, rained. Her weeping eyes at length she dried, And thus mid choking sobs replied: "Canst thou, a high-born prince, dismiss A high-born dame with speech like this? Such words befit the meanest hind, Not princely birth and generous mind, By all my virtuous life I swear I am not what thy words declare. If some are faithless, wilt thou find No love and truth in womankind? Doubt others if thou wilt, but own The truth which all my life has shown. If, when the giant seized his prey, Within his hated arms I lay, And felt the grasp I dreaded, blame Fate and the robber, not thy dame. What could a helpless woman do? My heart was mine and still was true, Why when Hanuman sent by thee Sought Lanka's town across the sea, Couldst thou not give, O lord of men, Thy sentence of rejection then? Then in the presence of the chief Death, ready death, had brought relief, Nor had I nursed in woe and pain This lingering life, alas in vain. Then hadst thou shunned the fruitless strife Nor jeopardied thy noble life, But spared thy friends and bold allies Their vain and weary enterprise. Is all forgotten, all? my birth, Named Janak's child, from fostering earth? That day of triumph when a maid My trembling hand in thine I laid? My meek obedience to thy will, My faithful love through joy and ill, That never failed at duty's call-- O King, is all forgotten, all?"

He looked upon the pile where lay The bones half-burnt and ashes grey, And uttering a piteous moan, Gave way, by anguish overthrown. Then as his tears began to well, Prostrate to earth the hero fell; So from its seat the staff they drag, And cast to earth some glorious flag. The ministers approached again The prince whom rites had freed from stain; So when Yayati fell, each seer, In pity for his fate, drew near. Satrughna saw him lying low O'erwhelmed beneath the crush of woe, And as upon the king he thought, He fell upon the earth distraught. When to his loving memory came Those noble gifts, that kingly frame, He sorrowed, by his woe distressed, As one by frenzied rage possessed: "Ah me, this surging sea of woe Has drowned us with its overflow: The source is Manthara, dire and dark, Kaikeyi is the ravening shark: And the great boons the monarch gave Lend conquering might to every wave. Ah, whither wilt thou go, and leave Thy Bharat in his woe to grieve, Whom ever 'twas thy greatest joy To fondle as a tender boy? Didst thou not give with thoughtful care Our food, our drink, our robes to wear? Whose love will now for us provide, When thou, our king and sire, hast died? At such a time bereft, forlorn, Why is not earth in sunder torn, Missing her monarch's firm control, His love of right, his lofty soul? Ah me, for Rama roams afar, My sire is where the Blessed are; How can I live deserted? I Will pass into the fire and die. Abandoned thus, I will not brook Upon Ayodhya's town to look, Once guarded by Ikshvaku's race: The wood shall be my dwelling place."

"For this, Lord Indra, glorious sire, Majestic as the burning fire, Who crushes cities in his rage, Sought Sarabhanga's hermitage. Thou wast, this great design to aid, Led by the saints to seek this shade, And with thy mighty arm to kill The giants who delight in ill. Thou Dasaratha's noble son, The battle for our sake hast won, And saints in Dandak's wild who live Their days to holy tasks can give."

With him, his best and eldest son, By all his princely virtues won King Dasaratha(24) willed to share His kingdom as the Regent Heir. But when Kaikeyi, youngest queen, With eyes of envious hate had seen The solemn pomp and regal state Prepared the prince to consecrate, She bade the hapless king bestow Two gifts he promised long ago, That Rama to the woods should flee, And that her child the heir should be.

Soon as he heard the high behest The driver of the chariot pressed Within the chambers of the king, His lord with praises honouring. And none of all the warders checked His entrance for their great respect Of him well known, in place so high, Still fain their king to gratify. He stood beside the royal chief, Unwitting of his deadly grief, And with sweet words began to sing The praises of his lord and king: "As, when the sun begins to rise, The sparkling sea delights our eyes, Wake, calm with gentle soul, and thus Give rapture, mighty King, to us. As Matali(279) this selfsame hour Sang lauds of old to Indra's power, When he the Titan hosts o'erthrew, So hymn I thee with praises due. The Vedas, with their kindred lore, Brahma their soul-born Lord adore, With all the doctrines of the wise, And bid him, as I bid thee, rise. As, with the moon, the Lord of Day Wakes with the splendour of his ray Prolific Earth, who neath him lies, So, mighty King, I bid thee rise. With blissful words, O Lord of men, Rise, radiant in thy form, as when The sun ascending darts his light From Meru's everlasting height. May Siva, Agni, Sun, and Moon Bestow on thee each choicest boon, Kuvera, Varuna, Indra bless Kakutstha's son with all success. Awake, the holy night is fled, The happy light abroad is spread; Awake, O best of kings, and share The glorious task that claims thy care. The holy sage Vasishtha waits, With all his Brahmans, at the gate. Give thy decree, without delay, To consecrate thy son today. As armies, by no captain led, As flocks that feed unshepherded, Such is the fortune of a state Without a king and desolate."

The mighty lord drew near, assayed To win his grace, and reverence paid; And then the sainted king addressed The Brahman saint with this request: "Bought with a hundred thousand kine, Give me, O Sage, a son of thine To be a victim in the rite, And thanks the favour shall requite. For I have roamed all countries round, Nor sacrificial victim found. Then, gentle Hermit, deign to spare One child amid the number there."

There ceased the Vanar: Rama pressed The treasured jewel to his breast, And from his eyes the waters broke As to the Vanar king he spoke: "As o'er her babe the mother weeps, This flood of tears the jewel steeps. This gem that shone on Sita's head Was Janak's gift when we were wed, And the pure brow that wore it lent New splendour to the ornament. This gem, bright offspring of the wave, The King of Heaven to Janak gave, Whose noble sacrificial rite Had filled the God with new delight. Now, as I gaze upon the prize, Methinks I see my father's eyes. Methinks I see before me stand The ruler of Videha's land.(893) Methinks mine arms are folded now Round her who wore it on her brow. Speak, Hanuman, O say, dear friend, What message did my darling send? O speak, and let thy words impart Their gentle dew to cool my heart. Ah, 'tis the crown of woe to see This gem and ask "Where, where is she?" If for one month her heart be strong, Her days of life will yet be long. But I, with naught to lend relief, This very day must die of grief. Come, Hanuman, and quickly guide The mourner to his darling's side. O lead me--thou hast learnt the way-- I cannot and I will not stay. How can my gentle love endure, So timid, delicate, and pure, The dreadful demons fierce and vile Who watch her in the guarded isle? No more the light of beauty shines From Sita as she weeps and pines. But pain and sorrow, cloud on cloud Her moonlight glory dim and shroud. O speak, dear Hanuman, and tell Each word that from her sweet lips fell, Her words, her words alone can give The healing balm to make me live."(894)

"Look, look ye Vanars, and beware: That giant chief sublime in air With other four in bright array Comes armed to conquer and to slay." Soon as his warning speech they heard, The Vanar chieftains undeterred Seized fragments of the rock and trees, And made reply in words like these: "We wait thy word: the order give, And these thy foes shall cease to live. Command us, mighty King, and all Lifeless upon the earth shall fall."

But Diti, when her sons were slain, Wild with a childless mother's pain, To Kasyap spake, Maricha's son, Her husband: "O thou glorious one! Dead are the children, mine no more, The mighty sons to thee I bore. Long fervour's meed, I crave a boy Whose arm may Indra's life destroy. The toil and pain my care shall be: To bless my hope depends on thee. Give me a mighty son to slay Fierce Indra, gracious lord! I pray."

He placed before him dainty fare Of every flavour, rich and rare, Brought forth the gift for honoured guest, And thus again the chief addressed: "Welcome, dear Prince, whose arms are strong; These lands and all to thee belong. Thy servants we, our lord art thou; Begin, good king, thine empire now. See, various food before thee placed, And cups to drink and sweets to taste For thee soft beds are hither borne, And for thy horses grass and corn."

Take then the respite of a night And yield thee to each soft delight. Then, monarch of the Vanar race With loving arms thy friends embrace. Gifts on thy faithful lords bestow, Bid each and all farewell, and go. Show in the streets once more thy face, Install thy son to fill thy place. Dally a while with each dear dame; And then my strength thy pride shall tame For, should I smite thee drunk with wine Enamoured of those dames of thine, Beneath diseases bowed and bent, Or weak, unarmed, or negligent, My deed would merit hate and scorn As his who slays the child unborn." Then Bali's soul with rage was fired, Queen Tara and the dames retired; And slowly, with a laugh of pride, The king of Vanars thus replied: "Me, fiend, thou deemest drunk with wine: Unless thy fear the fight decline, Come, meet me in the fray, and test The spirit of my valiant breast." He spoke in wrath and high disdain; And, laying down his golden chain, Gift of his sire Mahendra, dared The demon, for the fray prepared; Seized by the horns the monster, vast As a huge hill, and held him fast, Then fiercely dragged him round and round, And, shouting, hurled him to the ground. Blood streaming from his ears, he rose, And wild with fury strove the foes. Then Bali, match for Indra's might, With every arm renewed the fight. He fought with fists, and feet, and knees, With fragments of the rock, and trees. At last the monster's strength, assailed By Sakra's(572) conquering offspring, failed. Him Bali raised with mighty strain And dashed upon the ground again; Where, bruised and shattered, in a tide Of rushing blood, the demon died. King Bali saw the lifeless corse, And bending, with tremendous force Raised the huge bulk from where it lay, And hurled it full a league away.

"I doubt not, Prince, thy peerless might, Armed with these shafts so keen and bright, Like all-destroying fires of fate, The worlds could burn and devastate. But lend thou first thy mind and ear Of Bali's power and might to hear. How bold, how firm, in battle tried, Is Bali's heart; and then decide. From east to west, from south to north On restless errand hurrying forth, From farthest sea to sea he flies Before the sun has lit the skies. A mountain top he oft will seek, Tear from its root a towering peak, Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball, And catch it ere to earth it fall. And many a tree that long has stood In health and vigour in the wood, His single arm to earth will throw, The marvels of his might to show. Shaped like a bull, a monster bore The name of Dundubhi of yore: He matched in size a mountain height, A thousand elephants in might. By pride of wondrous gifts impelled, And strength he deemed unparalleled, To Ocean, lord of stream and brook, Athirst for war, his way he took. He reached the king of rolling waves Whose gems are piled in sunless caves, And threw his challenge to the sea; "Come forth, O King, and fight with me." He spoke, and from his ocean bed The righteous(567) monarch heaved his head, And gave, sedate, his calm reply To him whom fate impelled to die: "Not mine, not mine the power," he cried, "To cope with thee in battle tried; But listen to my voice, and seek The worthier foe of whom I speak. The Lord of Hills, where hermits live And love the home his forests give, Whose child is Sankar's darling queen,(568) The King of Snows is he I mean. Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade The torrent and the wild cascade. From him expect the fierce delight Which heroes feel in equal fight."

"See, brother, see" thus Rama cried On Malyavat's(618) dark-wooded side, "A chain of clouds, like lofty hills, The sky with gathering shadow fills. Nine months those clouds have borne the load Conceived from sunbeams as they glowed, And, having drunk the seas, give birth, And drop their offspring on the earth. Easy it seems at such a time That flight of cloudy stairs to climb, And, from their summit, safely won, Hang flowery wreaths about the sun. See how the flash of evening's red Fringes the fleecy clouds o'erhead Till all the sky is streaked and lined With bleeding wounds incarnadined, Or the wide firmament above Shows like a lover sick with love And, pale with cloudlets, heaves a sigh In the soft breeze that wanders by. See, by the fervent heat embrowned, How drenched with recent showers, the ground Pours out in floods her gushing tears, Like Sita wild with torturing fears. So softly blows this cloud-born breeze Cool through the boughs of camphor trees That one might hold it in the cup Of hollowed hands and drink it up. See, brother, where that rocky steep, Where odorous shrubs in rain-drops weep, Shows like Sugriva when they shed Tne royal balm upon his head. Like students at their task appear These hills whose misty peaks are near: Black deerskin(619) garments wrought of cloud Their forms with fitting mantles shroud, Each torrent from the summit poured Supplies the place of sacred cord.(620) And winds that in their caverns moan Sound like the voice's undertone.(621) From east to west red lightnings flash, And, quivering neath the golden lash, The great sky like a generous steed Groans inly at each call to speed. Yon lightning, as it flashes through The giant cloud of sable hue, Recalls my votaress Sita pressed Mid struggles to the demon's breast. See, on those mountain ridges stand Sweet shrubs that bud and bloom expand. The soft rain ends their pangs of grief, And drops its pearls on flower and leaf.

He heard the monarch, and obeyed, With ready feet that ne'er delayed, And brought before the palace gate The horses and the car of state. Then to the monarch's son he sped, And raising hands of reverence said That the light car which gold made fair, With best of steeds, was standing there. King Dasaratha called in haste The lord o'er all his treasures placed. And spoke, well skilled in place and time, His will to him devoid of crime: "Count all the years she has to live Afar in forest wilds, and give To Sita robes and gems of price As for the time may well suffice." Quick to the treasure-room he went, Charged by that king most excellent, Brought the rich stores, and gave them all To Sita in the monarch's hall. The Maithil dame of high descent Received each robe and ornament, And tricked those limbs, whose lines foretold High destiny, with gems and gold. So well adorned, so fair to view, A glory through the hall she threw: So, when the Lord of Light upsprings, His radiance o'er the sky he flings. Then Queen Kausalya spake at last, With loving arms about her cast, Pressed lingering kisses on her head, And to the high-souled lady said: "Ah, in this faithless world below When dark misfortune comes and woe, Wives, loved and cherished every day, Neglect their lords and disobey. Yes, woman's nature still is this:-- After long days of calm and bliss When some light grief her spirit tries, She changes all her love, or flies. Young wives are thankless, false in soul, With roving hearts that spurn control. Brooding on sin and quickly changed, In one short hour their love estranged. Not glorious deed or lineage fair, Not knowledge, gift, or tender care In chains of lasting love can bind A woman's light inconstant mind. But those good dames who still maintain What right, truth, Scripture, rule ordain-- No holy thing in their pure eyes With one beloved husband vies.

But Hanuman, while Tara, best Of splendid chiefs his thought expressed, Perceived that Bali's princely son A kingdom for himself had won.(757) His keen eye marked in him combined The warrior's arm, the ruler's mind, And every noble gift should grace The happy sovereign of his race: Marked how he grew with ripening age More glorious and bold and sage,-- Like the young moon that night by night Shines on with ever waxing light,-- Brave as his royal father, wise As he who counsels in the skies:(758) Marked how, forwearied with the quest, He heeded not his liege's hest, But Tara's every word obeyed Like Indra still by Sukra(759) swayed. Then with his prudent speech he tried To better thoughts the prince to guide, And by division's skilful art The Vanars and the youth to part: "Illustrious Angad, thou in fight Hast far surpassed thy father's might, Most worthy, like thy sire of old, The empire of our race to hold. The Vanars' fickle people range From wish to wish and welcome change. Their wives and babes they will not leave And to their new-made sovereign cleave. No art, no gifts will draw away The Vanars from Sugriva's sway, Through hope of wealth, through fear of pain Still faithful will they all remain. Thou fondly hopest in this cave The vengeance of the foe to brave. But Lakshman's arm a shower will send Of deadly shafts those walls to rend. Like Indra's bolts his shafts have power To cleave the mountain like a flower. O Angad, mark my counsel well: If in this cave thou choose to dwell, These Vanar hosts with one accord Will quit thee for their lawful lord, And turn again with thirsty eyes To wife and babe and all they prize. Thou in the lonely cavern left Of followers and friends bereft, Wilt be in all thy woe, alas, Weak as a blade of trembling grass: And Lakshman's arrows, keen and fierce From his strong bow, thy heart will pierce.