Ramayana on Faith

The faithful Lakshman, thus addressed In gentle words which love expressed, To him in lore of language learned, His answer, eloquent, returned:

The virtuous Rama, wonder-stirred, The faithful speech of Bharat heard, And thus the hero's feelings found Due utterance, as he gazed around:

All that heroic might can do, Brave Vanars, has been done by you. My faithful friends I now dismiss: Return: my last farewell is this."

So to his grief he would not yield Lest the sad change their hearts might rend, And, the dread tiding unrevealed, Spared from the blow each faithful friend.

Each Vanar, when his awe-struck eyes Behold the monstrous chieftain, flies. With hopeful words their minds deceive, And let our trembling hosts believe They see no giant, but, displayed, A lifeless engine deftly made."

Thus cried the faithful charioteer, As Raghu's son, in rede his peer, Was fast departing on his road,-- And long his tears of anguish flowed. But Rama, when those tears were dried His lips with water purified, And in soft accents, sweet and clear, Again addressed the charioteer: "I find no heart, my friend, like thine, So faithful to Ikshvaku's line. Still first in view this object keep, That ne'er for me my sire may weep. For he, the world's far-ruling king, Is old, and wild with sorrow's sting; With love's great burthen worn and weak: Deem this the cause that thus I speak Whate'er the high-souled king decrees His loved Kaikeyi's heart to please, Yea, be his order what it may, Without demur thou must obey, For this alone great monarchs reign, That ne'er a wish be formed in vain. Then, O Sumantra, well provide That by no check the king be tried: Nor let his heart in sorrow pine: This care, my faithful friend, be thine. The honoured king my father greet, And thus for me my words repeat To him whose senses are controlled, Untired till now by grief, and old; "I, Sita, Lakshman sorrow not, O Monarch, for our altered lot: The same to us, if here we roam, Or if Ayodhya be our home, The fourteen years will quickly fly, The happy hour will soon be nigh When thou, my lord, again shalt see Lakshman, the Maithil dame, and me." Thus having soothed, O charioteer, My father and my mother dear, Let all the queens my message learn, But to Kaikeyi chiefly turn. With loving blessings from the three, From Lakshman, Sita, and from me, My mother, Queen Kausalya, greet With reverence to her sacred feet. And add this prayer of mine: "O King; Send quickly forth and Bharat bring, And set him on the royal throne Which thy decree has made his own. When he upon the throne is placed, When thy fond arms are round him laced, Thine aged heart will cease to ache With bitter pangs for Rama's sake."

Thus spoke the angry king: the two Cried, Long live Ravan, and withdrew, The giant monarch turned and cried To strong Mahodar at his side: "Go thou, and spies more faithful bring. More duteous to their lord the king."

And all the people answered thus: "Full well is Rama known to us. Right is the word he speaks and he Is faithful to his sire's decree: Nor can we rashly venture now To turn him from his purposed vow."

Then Rama nobly calm allayed The wrath that Lakshman's bosom swayed: "What need have we the sword to wield, To bend the bow or lift the shield, If Bharat brave, and wise, and good, Himself has sought this sheltering wood? I sware my father's will to do, And if I now my brother slew What gain in kingship should I find, Despised and scorned by all mankind? Believe me, e'en as I would shrink From poisoned meat or deadly drink, No power or treasure would I win By fall of friend or kith or kin. Brother, believe the words I speak: For your dear sakes alone I seek Duty and pleasure, wealth and gain: A holy life, a happy reign. If royal sway my heart desires, My brothers' weal the wish inspires: Their bliss and safety is my care, By this uplifted bow I swear. 'Twere not so hard for me to gain This broad land girdled by the main, But even Indra's royal might Should ne'er be mine in duty's spite. If any bliss my soul can see Deprived of dear Satrughna, thee, And Bharat, may the flame destroy With ashy gloom the selfish joy. Far dearer than this life of mine, Knowing the custom of our line, His heart with fond affection fraught, Bharat Ayodhya's town resought And hearing when he came that I, With thee and Sita, forced to fly With matted hair and hermit dress Am wandering in the wilderness. While grief his troubled senses storms, And tender love his bosom warms, From every thought of evil clear, Is come to meet his brother here. Some grievous words perchance he spoke Kaikeyi's anger to provoke, Then won the king, and comes to lay Before my feet the royal sway. Hither, methinks, in season due Comes Bharat for an interview, Nor in his secret heart has he One evil thought 'gainst thee or me. What has he done ere now, reflect! How failed in love or due respect To make thee doubt his faith and lay This evil to his charge to-day? Thou shouldst not join with Bharat's name So harsh a speech and idle blame. The blows thy tongue at Bharat deals, My sympathizing bosom feels.

Great trembling seized her frame, and she Fell like a stricken plantain tree. As lie the dead she lay; at length Slowly regaining sense and strength, On the dear head she fixed her eye And cried with very bitter cry: "Ah, when thy cold dead cheek I view, My hero, I am murdered too. Then first a faithful woman's eyes See sorrow, when her husband dies. When thou, my lord, wast nigh to save, Some stealthy hand thy death wound gave. Thou art not dead: rise, hero, rise; Long life was thine, as spake the wise Whose words, I ween, are ever true, For faith lies open to their view. Ah lord, and shall thy head recline On earth's cold breast, forsaking mine, Counting her chill lap dearer far Than I and my caresses are? Ah, is it thus these eyes behold Thy famous bow adorned with gold, Whereon of yore I loved to bind Sweet garlands that my hands had twined? And hast thou sought in heaven a place Amid the founders of thy race, Where in the home deserved so well Thy sires and Dasaratha dwell? Or dost thou shine a brighter star In skies where blest immortals are, Forsaking in thy lofty scorn The race wherein thy sires were born? Turn to my gaze, O turn thine eye: Why are thy cold lips silent, why? When first we met as youth and maid, When in thy hand my hand was laid, Thy promise was thy steps should be Through life in duty's path with me. Remember, faithful still, thy vow, And take me with thee even now. Is that broad bosom where I hung, That neck to which I fondly clung, Where flowery garlands breathed their scent By hungry dogs and vultures rent? Shall no funereal honours grace The parted lord of Raghu's race, Whose bounty liberal fees bestowed, For whom the fires of worship glowed? Kausalya wild with grief will see One sole survivor of the three Who in their hermit garments went To the dark woods in banishment. Then at her cry shall Lakshman tell How, slain by night, the Vanars fell; How to thy side the giants crept, And slew the hero as he slept.

Then Trijata,(958) of gentler mould Though Rakshas born, her grief consoled: "Dear Queen, thy causeless woe dispel: Thy husband lives, and all is well. Look round: in every Vanar face The light of joyful hope I trace. Not thus, believe me, shine the eyes Of warriors when their leader dies. An Army, when the chief is dead, Flies from the field dispirited. Here, undisturbed in firm array, The Vanars by the brothers stay. Love prompts my speech; no longer grieve; Ponder my counsel, and believe. These lips of mine from earliest youth Have spoken, and shall speak, the truth. Deep in my heart thy gentle grace And patient virtues hold their place. Turn, lady, turn once more thine eye: Though pierced with shafts the heroes lie, On brows and cheeks with blood-drops wet The light of beauty lingers yet. Such beauty ne'er is found in death, But vanishes with parting breath. O, trust the hope these tokens give: The heroes are not dead, but live."

Jatayus, guardian good and wise, Our old and faithful friend, The best and strongest bird that flies, His willing aid will lend The Maithil lady well protect, For every chance provide, And in thy tender care suspect A foe on every side."

Thus spoke the Self-existent Sire: Then swiftly from the blazing pyre The circling flames were backward rolled, And, raising in his gentle hold Alive unharmed the Maithil dame, The Lord of Fire embodied came. Fair as the morning was her sheen, And gold and gems adorned the queen. Her form in crimson robes arrayed, Her hair was bound in glossy braid. Her wreath was fresh and sweet of scent, Undimmed was every ornament. Then, standing close to Rama'a side, The universal witness cried: "From every blot and blemish free Thy faithful queen returns to thee. In word or deed, in look or mind Her heart from thee has ne'er declined. By force the giant bore away From thy lone cot his helpless prey; And in his bowers securely kept She still has longed for thee and wept. With soft temptation, bribe and threat, He bade the dame her love forget: But, nobly faithful to her lord, Her soul the giant's suit abhorred. Receive, O King, thy queen again, Pure, ever pure from spot and stain."

"O Rama, great delight I feel, Pleased, Lakshman, with thy faithful zeal, That you within these shades I see With Sita come to honour me. But wandering through the rough rude wild Has wearied Janak's gentle child: With labours of the way oppressed The Maithil lady longs for rest. Young, delicate, and soft, and fair, Such toils as these untrained to bear, Her wifely love the dame has led The forest's troubled ways to tread. Here, Rama, see that naught annoy Her easy hours of tranquil joy: A glorious task has she assayed, To follow thee through woodland shade. Since first from Nature's hand she came, A woman's mood is still the same, When Fortune smiles, her love to show, And leave her lord in want and woe. No pity then her heart can feel, She arms her soul with warrior's steel, Swift as the storm or Feathered King, Uncertain as the lightning's wing. Not so thy spouse: her purer mind Shrinks from the faults of womankind; Like chaste Arundhati(441) above, A paragon of faithful love. Let these blest shades, dear Rama, be A home for Lakshman, her, and thee."

The giant viewed with earnest ken The Vanars and the lords of men; Then thus, with grief and anger moved, In bitter tone the spies reproved: "Can faithful servants hope to please Their master with such fates as these? Or hope ye with wild words to wring The bosom of your lord and king? Such words were better said by those Who come arrayed our mortal foes. In vain your ears have heard the sage, And listened to the lore of age, Untaught, though lectured many a day, The first great lesson, to obey, 'Tis marvel Ravan reigns and rules Whose counsellors are blind and fools. Has death no terrors that ye dare To tempt your monarch to despair, From whose imperial mandate flow Disgrace and honour, weal and woe? Yea, forest trees, when flames are fanned About their scorching trunks, may stand; But naught can set the sinner free When kings the punishment decree. I would not in mine anger spare The traitorous foe-praising pair, But years of faithful service plead For pardon, and they shall not bleed. Henceforth to me be dead: depart, Far from my presence and my heart."

Thus spoke the dame in mournful mood, And Hanuman his speech renewed: "O lady, by thy lord's decree I come a messenger to thee. Thy lord is safe with steadfast friends, And greeting to his queen he sends, And Lakshman, ever faithful bows His reverent head to Rama's spouse."

"Receive," he cried, "this precious ring,(859) Sure token from thy lord the king: The golden ring he wont to wear: See, Rama's name engraven there." Then, as she took the ring he showed, The tears that spring of rapture flowed. She seemed to touch the hand that sent The dearly valued ornament, And with her heart again at ease, Replied in gentle words like these: "O thou, whose soul no fears deter, Wise, brave, and faithful messenger! And hast thou dared, o'er wave and foam, To seek me in the giants' home? In thee, true messenger, I find The noblest of thy woodland kind. Who couldst, unmoved by terror, brook On Ravan, king of fiends, to look. Now may we commune here as friends, For he whom royal Rama sends Must needs be one in danger tried, A valiant, wise, and faithful guide. Say, is it well with Rama still? Lives Lakshman yet untouched by ill? Then why should Rama's hand be slow To free his consort from her woe? Why spare to burn, in search of me, The land encircled by the sea? Can Bharat send no army out With banners, cars and battle shout? Cannot thy king Sugriva lend His legions to assist his friend?"

When Lanka's lord had left the queen, The head and bow no more were seen. The giant king his nobles eyed, And, terrible as Yama, cried: "O faithful lords, the time is come: Gather our hosts with beat of drum. Nigh to the town our foeman draws: Be prudent, nor reveal the cause."

"I trust no cares invade thy peace, While holy works and zeal increase; That thou content with scanty food All touch of ire hast long subdued; That all thy vows are well maintained While peace of mind is surely gained, That reverence of the saints who taught Thy faithful heart due fruit has brought."

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

The glorious chief his speech renewed To faithful Lakshman as he sued, And on the eyes of Rama gazed Longing to lead, with hands upraised: "Thou art a hero just and dear, Whose steps to virtue's path adhere, Loved as my life till life shall end, My faithful brother and my friend. If to the woods thou take thy way With Sita and with me to-day, Who for Kausalya will provide, And guard the good Sumitra's side? The lord of earth, of mighty power, Who sends good things in plenteous shower, As Indra pours the grateful rain, A captive lies in passion's chain. The power imperial for her son Has Asvapati's daughter(306) won, And she, proud queen, will little heed Her miserable rivals' need. So Bharat, ruler of the land, By Queen Kaikeyi's side will stand, Nor of those two will ever think, While grieving in despair they sink. Now, Lakshman, as thy love decrees, Or else the monarch's heart to please, Follow this counsel and protect My honoured mother from neglect. So thou, while not to me alone Thy great affection will be shown, To highest duty wilt adhere By serving those thou shouldst revere. Now, son of Raghu, for my sake Obey this one request I make, Or, of her darling son bereft, Kausalya has no comfort left."

Warned by these signs I bid you fly; Or by the hand of Rama die, Whose vengeance will not spare the life Of one who vexed his faithful wife. Your bitter taunts and threats forgo: Comfort the lady in her woe, And humbly pray her to forgive; For so you may be spared and live."

Thus by the high-souled prince addressed, Of Raghu's sons the chief and best, She cast all ruth and shame aside, And bold with greedy words replied: "Not wrath, O Rama, stirs the king, Nor misery stabs with sudden sting; One thought that fills his soul has he, But dares not speak for fear of thee. Thou art so dear, his lips refrain From words that might his darling pain. But thou, as duty bids, must still The promise of thy sire fulfil. He who to me in days gone by Vouchsafed a boon with honours high, Dares now, a king, his word regret, And caitiff-like disowns the debt. The lord of men his promise gave To grant the boon that I might crave, And now a bridge would idly throw When the dried stream has ceased to flow. His faith the monarch must not break In wrath, or e'en for thy dear sake. From faith, as well the righteous know, Our virtue and our merits flow. Now, be they good or be they ill, Do thou thy father's words fulfil: Swear that his promise shall not fail, And I will tell thee all the tale. Yes, Rama, when I hear that thou Hast bound thee by thy father's vow, Then, not till then, my lips shall speak, Nor will he tell what boon I seek."

Thus urged Sugriva famed for lore Of moving words, and spoke no more. Then Rama thus in turn addressed The bold Hanuman and the rest: "Chiefs of the Vanar legions each Of you heard Sugriva's speech. What think ye now in time of fear, When peril and distress are near, In every doubt the wise depend For counsel on a faithful friend."

"Come let us scale," the hero cried, "This hill with various metals dyed. This night upon the breezy crest Sugriva, Lakshman, I, will rest, With sage Vibhishan, faithful friend, His counsel and his lore to lend. From those tall peaks each eager eye The foeman's city shall espy, Who from the wood my darling stole And brought long anguish on my soul."

They heard the high-souled prince's speech, And thus with ready answer each Of those great lords their chief addressed, With saint Vasishtha and the rest: "Good are the words which thou hast said, By brotherly affection led, Like thine own self, a faithful friend, True to thy brother to the end: A heart like thine must all approve, Which naught from virtue's path can move."

Then Rama, pierced by anger's sting, Laid a keen arrow on his string, And by the faithful Lakshman's side Roamed through the forest far and wide. Jatayus there with blood-drops dyed, Lying upon the ground he spied, Huge as a mountain's shattered crest, Mid all the birds of air the best. In wrath the mighty bird he eyed, And thus the chief to Lakshman cried:

The long-eyed lady ceased: she shed Pure scent and grain upon his head. And that prized herb whose sovereign power Preserves from dark misfortune's hour, Upon the hero's arm she set, To be his faithful amulet. While holy texts she murmured low, And spoke glad words though crushed by woe, Concealing with obedient tongue The pangs with which her heart was wrung. She bent, she kissed his brow, she pressed Her darling to her troubled breast: "Firm in thy purpose, go," she cried, "Go Rama, and may bliss betide. Attain returning safe and well, Triumphant in Ayodhya, dwell. Then shall my happy eyes behold The empire by thy will controlled. Then grief and care shall leave no trace, Joy shall light up thy mother's face, And I shall see my darling reign, In moonlike glory come again. These eyes shall fondly gaze on thee So faithful to thy sire's decree, When thou the forest wild shalt quit On thine ancestral throne to sit. Yea, thou shalt turn from exile back, Nor choicest blessings ever lack, Then fill with rapture ever new My bosom and thy consort's too. To Siva and the heavenly host My worship has been paid, To mighty saint, to godlike ghost, To every wandering shade. Forth to the forest thou wilt hie, Therein to dwell so long: Let all the quarters of the sky Protect my child from wrong." Her blessings thus the queen bestowed; Then round him fondly paced, And often, while her eyes o'erflowed, Her dearest son embraced. Kausalya's honoured feet he pressed, As round her steps she bent, And radiant with her prayers that blessed, To Sita's home he went.

They ceased and Angad thus began: "With jealous eye the stranger scan: Not yet with trusting heart receive Vibhishan, nor his tale believe. These giants wandering far and wide Their evil nature falsely hide, And watching with malignant skill Assail us when we fear no ill. Well ponder every hope and fear Until thy doubtful course be clear; Then own his merit or detect His guile, and welcome or reject."

On Sita then he looked and smiled; "List to my words" he said, "dear child, Let not thy gentle breast retain One lingering trace of wrath or pain. When by the fire thy truth be proved, By love for thee his will was moved. The furious flame thy faith confessed Which shrank not from the awful test: And thou, in every heart enshrined, Shalt live the best of womankind."

Then the great saint, in duty trained, With honour gladly entertained: He gave his guests a welcome fair, And bade them sit and rest them there, Rama of mighty arm and chest His faithful Lakshman then addressed: "Brother, bring hither from the wood Selected timber strong and good, And build therewith a little cot; My heart rejoices in the spot That lies beneath the mountain's side, Remote, with water well supplied."

When Rama heard the words he spoke Again he sank beneath the stroke, And with a bosom anguish-fraught Himself the lovely river sought. There standing on the shelving side, "O Sita, where art thou?" he cried. No spirit voice an answer gave, No murmur from the trembling wave Of sweet Godavari declared The outrage which the fiend had dared. "O speak!" the pitying spirits cried, But yet the stream their prayer denied, Nor dared she, coldly mute, relate To the sad chief his darling's fate Of Ravan's awful form she thought, And the dire deed his arm had wrought, And still withheld by fear dismayed, The tale for which the mourner prayed. When hope was none, his heart to cheer, That the bright stream his cry would hear While sorrow for his darling tore His longing soul he spake once more: "Though I have sought with tears and sighs Godarvari no word replies, O say, what answer can I frame To Janak, father of my dame? Or how before her mother stand Leading no Sita by the hand? Where is my loyal love who went Forth with her lord to banishment? Her faith to me she nobly held Though from my realm and home expelled,-- A hermit, nursed on woodland fare,-- She followed still and soothed my care. Of all my friends am I bereft, Nor is my faithful consort left. How slowly will the long nights creep While comfortless I wake and weep! O, if my wife may yet be found, With humble love I'll wander round This Janasthan, Prasravan's hill, Mandakini's delightful rill. See how the deer with gentle eyes Look on my face and sympathize. I mark their soft expression: each Would soothe me, if it could, with speech."

Joy reigned in heaven where every eye Had seen the Lord of Lanka die. In cars whose sheen surpassed the sun's Triumphant rode the radiant ones: And Ravan's death, by every tongue, And Rama's glorious deeds were sung. They praised the Vanars true and brave, The counsel wise Sugriva gave. The deeds of Hanuman they told, The valiant chief supremely bold, The strong ally, the faithful friend, And Sita's truth which naught could bend.

Thus having said, the sage addressed His sons, of men the holiest, And bade the prudent saints whate'er Was needed for the rite prepare. The pupils he was wont to teach He summoned next, and spoke this speech: "Go bid Vasishtha'a sons appear, And all the saints be gathered here. And what they one and all reply When summoned by this mandate high, To me with faithful care report, Omit no word and none distort."

Thus faithful Lakshman strove to cheer The prince with counsel wise and clear. Who, prompt to seize the pith of all, Let not that wisdom idly fall. With vigorous effort he restrained The passion in his breast that reigned, And leaning on his bow for rest His brother Lakshman thus addressed: "How shall we labour now, reflect; Whither again our search direct? Brother, what plan canst thou devise To bring her to these longing eyes?"

But if in lowly reverence meek Sugriva's court with us thou seek, He, as thy birth demands, will share The kingdom with the royal heir. Thy loving kinsman, true and wise, Looks on thee still with favouring eyes. Firm in his promise, pure is he, And ne'er will vex or injure thee. He loves thy mother, lives for her A faithful friend and worshipper. That mother's love thou mayst not spurn: Her only child, return, return."

To him enthralled by love, and blind, Pierced by his darts who shakes the mind,(274) Kaikeyi with remorseless breast Her grand purpose thus expressed: "O King, no insult or neglect Have I endured, or disrespect. One wish I have, and faith would see That longing granted, lord, by thee. Now pledge thy word if thou incline To listen to this prayer of mine, Then I with confidence will speak, And thou shalt hear the boon I seek."

"Couldst thou, the Lord of all, couldst thou, Creator of the worlds, allow Thy queen, thy spouse to brave the fire And give her body to the pyre? Dost thou not yet, supremely wise, Thy heavenly nature recognize?" They ceased: and Rama thus began: "I deem myself a mortal man. Of old Ikshvaku's line, I spring From Dasaratha Kosal's king." He ceased: and Brahma's self replied: "O cast the idle thought aside. Thou art the Lord Narayan, thou The God to whom all creatures bow. Thou art the saviour God who wore Of old the semblance of a boar; Thou he whose discus overthrows All present, past and future foes; Thou Brahma, That whose days extend Without beginning, growth or end; The God, who, bears the bow of horn, Whom four majestic arms adorn; Thou art the God who rules the sense And sways with gentle influence; Thou all-pervading Vishnu Lord Who wears the ever-conquering sword; Thou art the Guide who leads aright, Thou Krishna of unequalled might. Thy hand, O Lord, the hills and plains, And earth with all her life sustains; Thou wilt appear in serpent form When sinks the earth in fire and storm. Queen Sita of the lovely brows Is Lakshmi thy celestial spouse. To free the worlds from Ravan thou Wouldst take the form thou wearest now. Rejoice: the mighty task is done: Rejoice, thou great and glorious one. The tyrant, slain, thy labours end: Triumphant now to heaven ascend. High bliss awaits the devotee Who clings in loving faith to thee, Who celebrates with solemn praise The Lord of ne'er beginning days. On earth below, in heaven above Great joy shall crown his faith and love. And he who loves the tale divine Which tells each glorious deed of thine Through life's fair course shall never know The fierce assault of pain and woe."(1020)

Thus Raghu's son, great-hearted, prayed, And Indra thus his answer made: "High is the boon thou seekest: none Should win this grace but Raghu's son. Yet, faithful to the word I spake, I grant the prayer for thy dear sake. The Vanars whom the giants slew Their life and vigour shall renew. Their strength repaired, their gashes healed Whose torrents dyed the battle field, The warrior hosts from death shall rise Like sleepers when their slumber flies."

While thus the hapless monarch spoke, Paternal love his utterance broke. Then words like these the saint returned, And fury in his bosom burned: "Didst thou, O King, a promise make, And wishest now thy word to break? A son of Raghu's line should scorn To fail in faith, a man forsworn. But if thy soul can bear the shame I will return e'en as I came. Live with thy sons, and joy be thine, False scion of Kakutstha's line."

He spoke: obedient to the eye Of Rama, Lakshman made reply, The name and fortune to unfold Of Raghu's son the lofty-souled: "True to the law, of fame unstained, The glorious Dasaratha reigned, And, steadfast in his duty, long Kept the four castes(550) from scathe and wrong. Through his wide realm his will was done, And, loved by all, he hated none. Just to each creature great and small, Like the Good Sire he cared for all. The Agnishtom,(551) as priests advised, And various rites he solemnized, Where ample largess ever paid The Brahmans for their holy aid. Here Rama stands, his heir by birth, Whose name is glorious in the earth: Sure refuge he of all oppressed, Most faithful to his sire's behest. He, Dasaratha's eldest born Whom gifts above the rest adorn, Lord of each high imperial sign,(552) The glory of his kingly line, Reft of his right, expelled from home, Came forth with me the woods to roam. And Sita too, his faithful dame, Forth with her virtuous husband came, Like the sweet light when day is done Still cleaving to her lord the sun. And me his sweet perfections drew To follow as his servant true. Named Lakshman, brother of my lord Of grateful heart with knowledge stored Most meet is he all bliss to share, Who makes the good of all his care. While, power and lordship cast away, In the wild wood he chose to stay, A giant came,--his name unknown,-- And stole the princess left alone. Then Diti's son(553) who, cursed of yore, The semblance of a Rakshas wore, To King Sugriva bade us turn The robber's name and home to learn. For he, the Vanar chief, would know The dwelling of our secret foe. Such words of hope spake Diti's son, And sought the heaven his deeds had won. Thou hast my tale. From first to last Thine ears have heard whate'er has past. Rama the mighty lord and I For refuge to Sugriva fly.

and may I think be considered as an interpolation, but I paraphrase a portion of it as a relief after so much fighting and carnage, and as an interesting glimpse of the monotheistic ideas which underlie the Hindu religion. The hymn does not readily lend itself to metrical translation, and I have not attempted here to give a faithful rendering of the whole. A literal version of the text and the commentary given in the Calcutta edition will be found in the Additional Notes.

Blest by the sage, when Raghu's son His onward journey had begun, Thus in her soft tone Sita, meek With modest fear, began to speak: "One little slip the great may lead To shame that follows lawless deed: Such shame, my lord, as still must cling To faults from low desire that spring. Three several sins defile the soul, Born of desire that spurns control: First, utterance of a lying word, Then, viler both, the next, and third: The lawless love of other's wife, The thirst of blood uncaused by strife. The first, O Raghu's son, in thee None yet has found, none e'er shall see. Love of another's dame destroys All merit, lost for guilty joys: Rama, such crime in thee, I ween, Has ne'er been found, shall ne'er be seen: The very thought, my princely lord, Is in thy secret soul abhorred. For thou hast ever been the same Fond lover of thine own dear dame, Content with faithful heart to do Thy father's will, most just and true: Justice, and faith, and many a grace In thee have found a resting-place. Such virtues, Prince, the good may gain Who empire o'er each sense retain; And well canst thou, with loving view Regarding all, each sense subdue. But for the third, the lust that strives, Insatiate still, for others' lives,-- Fond thirst of blood where hate is none,-- This, O my lord, thou wilt not shun. Thou hast but now a promise made, The saints of Dandak wood to aid: And to protect their lives from ill The giants' blood in tight wilt spill: And from thy promise lasting fame Will glorify the forest's name. Armed with thy bow and arrows thou Forth with thy brother journeyest now, While as I think how true thou art Fears for thy bliss assail my heart, And all my spirit at the sight Is troubled with a strange affright. I like it not--it seems not good-- Thy going thus to Dandak wood: And I, if thou wilt mark me well, The reason of my fear will tell.

Preserve us, for on thee we call, Our sire, Kaikeyi, me and all Thy citizens, thy kith and kin; Preserve us and reverse the sin. To live in woods a devotee Can scarce with royal tasks agree, Nor can the hermit's matted hair Suit fitly with a ruler's care. Do not, my brother, do not still Pursue this life that suits thee ill. Mid duties of a king we count His consecration paramount, That he with ready heart and hand May keep his people and his land. What Warrior born to royal sway From certain good would turn away, A doubtful duty to pursue, That mocks him with the distant view? Thou wouldst to duty cleave, and gain The meed that follows toil and pain. In thy great task no labour spare: Rule the four castes with justest care. Mid all the four, the wise prefer The order of the householder:(383) Canst thou, whose thoughts to duty cleave, The best of all the orders leave? My better thou in lore divine, My birth, my sense must yield to thine: While thou, my lord, art here to reign, How shall my hands the rule maintain? O faithful lover of the right, Take with thy friends the royal might, Let thy sires' realm, from trouble free, Obey her rightful king in thee. Here let the priests and lords of state Our monarch duly consecrate, With prayer and holy verses blessed By saint Vasishtha and the rest. Anointed king by us, again Seek fair Ayodhya, there to reign, And like imperial Indra girt By Gods of Storm, thy might assert. From the three debts(384) acquittance earn, And with thy wrath the wicked burn, O'er all of us thy rule extend, And cheer with boons each faithful friend. Let thine enthronement, lord, this day Make all thy lovers glad and gay, And let all those who hate thee flee To the ten winds for fear of thee. Dear lord, my mother's words of hate With thy sweet virtues expiate, And from the stain of folly clear The father whom we both revere.

Truth, only truth protects the land, By truth unharmed our houses stand; Neglect of truth makes men distressed, And truth in highest heaven is blessed. Then how can I, rebellious, break Commandments which my father spake-- I ever true and faithful found, And by my word of honour bound? My father's bridge of truth shall stand Unharmed by my destructive hand: Not folly, ignorance, or greed My darkened soul shall thus mislead. Have we not heard that God and shade Turn from the hated offerings paid By him whose false and fickle mind No pledge can hold, no promise bind? Truth is all duty: as the soul, It quickens and supports the whole. The good respect this duty: hence Its sacred claims I reverence. The Warrior's duty I despise That seeks the wrong in virtue's guise: Those claims I shrink from, which the base, Cruel, and covetous embrace. The heart conceives the guilty thought, Then by the hand the sin is wrought, And with the pair is leagued a third, The tongue that speaks the lying word. Fortune and land and name and fame To man's best care have right and claim; The good will aye to truth adhere, And its high laws must men revere. Base were the deed thy lips would teach, Approved as best by subtle speech. Shall I my plighted promise break, That I these woods my home would make? Shall I, as Bharat's words advise, My father's solemn charge despise? Firm stands the oath which then before My father's face I soothly swore, Which Queen Kaikeyi's anxious ear Rejoiced with highest joy to hear. Still in the wood will I remain, With food prescribed my life sustain, And please with fruit and roots and flowers Ancestral shades and heavenly powers. Here every sense contented, still Heeding the bounds of good and ill, My settled course will I pursue, Firm in my faith and ever true. Here in this wild and far retreat Will I my noble task complete; And Fire and Wind and Moon shall be Partakers of its fruit with me.

"Hast thou no word, my child, to say? No greeting for thy sire to-day? Why art thou angry, darling? why Wilt thou upon the cold earth lie? If thou, my son, art wroth with me, Here, duteous child, thy mother see. What! no embrace for me, my son? No word of tender love--not one? Whose gentle voice, so soft and clear, Soothing my spirit, shall I hear When evening comes, with accents sweet Scripture or ancient lore repeat? Who, having fed the sacred fire, And duly bathed, as texts require, Will cheer, when evening rites are done, The father mourning for his son? Who will the daily meal provide For the poor wretch who lacks a guide, Feeding the helpless with the best Berries and roots, like some dear guest? How can these hands subsistence find For thy poor mother, old and blind? The wretched votaress how sustain, Who mourns her child in ceaseless pain? Stay yet a while, my darling, stay, Nor fly to Yama's realm to-day. To-morrow I thy sire and she Who bare thee, child, will go with, thee.(337) Then when I look on Yama, I To great Vivasvat's son will cry: "Hear, King of justice, and restore Our child to feed us, I implore. Lord of the world, of mighty fame, Faithful and just, admit my claim, And grant this single boon to free My soul from fear, to one like me." Because, my son, untouched by stain, By sinful hands thou fallest slain, Win, through thy truth, the sphere where those Who die by hostile darts repose. Seek the blest home prepared for all The valiant who in battle fall, Who face the foe and scorn to yield, In glory dying on the field. Rise to the heaven where Dhundhumar And Nahush, mighty heroes, are, Where Janamejay and the blest Dilipa, Sagar, Saivya, rest: Home of all virtuous spirits, earned By fervent rites and Scripture learned: By those whose sacred fires have glowed, Whose liberal hands have fields bestowed: By givers of a thousand cows, By lovers of one faithful spouse: By those who serve their masters well, And cast away this earthly shell.

"The rites were o'er, the maids were wed, The bridegroom to his home was sped. The sonless monarch bade prepare A sacrifice to gain an heir. Then Kusa, Brahma's son, appeared, And thus King Kusanabha cheered: "Thou shalt, my child, obtain a son Like thine own self, O holy one. Through him for ever, Gadhi named, Shalt thou in all the worlds be famed." He spoke, and vanished from the sight To Brahma's world of endless light. Time fled, and, as the saint foretold, Gadhi was born, the holy-souled. My sire was he; through him I trace My line from royal Kusa's race. My sister--elder-born was she-- The pure and good Satyavati,(176) Was to the great Richika wed. Still faithful to her husband dead, She followed him, most noble dame, And, raised to heaven in human frame, A pure celestial stream became. Down from Himalaya's snowy height, In floods for ever fair and bright, My sister's holy waves are hurled To purify and glad the world. Now on Himalaya's side I dwell Because I love my sister well. She, for her faith and truth renowned, Most loving to her husband found, High-fated, firm in each pure vow, Is queen of all the rivers now. Bound by a vow I left her side And to the Perfect convent hied. There, by the aid 'twas thine to lend, Made perfect, all my labours end. Thus, mighty Prince, I now have told My race and lineage, high and old, And local tales of long ago Which thou, O Rama, fain wouldst know. As I have sate rehearsing thus The midnight hour is come on us. Now, Rama, sleep, that nothing may Our journey of to-morrow stay. No leaf on any tree is stirred: Hushed in repose are beast and bird: Where'er you turn, on every side, Dense shades of night the landscape hide, The light of eve is fled: the skies, Thick-studded with their host of eyes, Seem a star-forest overhead, Where signs and constellations spread. Now rises, with his pure cold ray, The moon that drives the shades away, And with his gentle influence brings Joy to the hearts of living things.

Speak, brother, tell thy foeman's name Whom I, in conquering strife, May strip of followers and fame, Of fortune, or of life. Say, how may all this sea-girt land Be brought to own thy sway: Thy faithful servant here I stand To listen and obey." Then strove the bride of Raghu's race Sad Lakshman's heart to cheer, While slowly down the hero's face, Unchecked, there rolled a tear. "The orders of my sire," he cried, "My will shall ne'er oppose: I follow still, whate'er betide, The path which duty shows."

The Maithil dame with many sighs, And torrents pouring from her eyes, The faithful Lakshman thus addressed, And smote her hands upon her breast. >Sumitra's son, o'erwhelmed by fears, Looked on the large-eyed queen: He saw that flood of burning tears, He saw that piteous mien. He yearned sweet comfort to afford, He strove to soothe her pain; But to the brother of her lord She spoke no word again. His reverent hands once more he raised, His head he slightly bent, Upon her face he sadly gazed, And then toward Rama went.

The envoy in his faithful breast Pondered Sugriva's high behest. From Rishyamuka's peak he hied And placed him by the princes' side. The Wind-God's son with cautious art Had laid his Vanar form apart, And wore, to cheat the strangers eyes, A wandering mendicant's disguise.(542) Before the heroes' feet he bent And did obeisance reverent, And spoke, the glorious pair to praise, His words of truth in courteous phrase, High honour duly paid, the best Of all the Vanar kind addressed, With free accord and gentle grace, Those glories of their warrior race:

They heard his gracious words, and then Spake reverent to the lord of men: "O Raghu's son, thou knowest well All things of heaven and earth and hell. 'Tis but thy friendship bids us speak The counsel Rama need not seek. So duteous, brave, and true art thou, Heroic, faithful to thy vow. Deep in the scriptures, trained and tried, Still in thy friends wilt thou confide. Let each of us in turn impart The secret counsel of his heart, And strive to win his chief's assent, By force of wisest argument."

He ceased: the faithful love that moved The prince's soul each heart approved; Nor could the Vanar chiefs refrain From tender tears that fell like rain. Then Rama, stirred with joy anew, His arms about his brother threw, And to the grove his course he bent Where Bharat's hermit days were spent. Alighting in that pure retreat He pressed the earth with eager feet. Then, at his hest, the car rose high And sailing through the northern sky Sped homeward to the Lord of Gold Who owned the wondrous prize of old.(1028)

Fierce Surpanakha with her train To Rama's dwelling came again, And to the eager giants showed Where Sita and the youths abode. Within the leafy cot they spied The hero by his consort's side, And faithful Lakshman ready still To wait upon his brother's will. Then noble Rama raised his eye And saw the giants standing nigh, And then, as nearer still they pressed. His glorious brother thus addressed, "Be thine a while, my brother dear, To watch o'er Sita's safety here, And I will slay these creatures who The footsteps of my spouse pursue."

He spoke. Sugriva thus replied: "See yonder Sal trees side by side. King Bali here would take his stand Grasping his bow with vigorous hand, And every arrow, keen and true, Would strike its tree and pierce it through. If Rama now his bow will bend, And through one trunk an arrow send; Or if his arm can raise and throw Two hundred measures of his bow, Grasped by a foot and hurled through air, The demon bull that moulders there, My heart will own his might and fain Believe my foe already slain."

Restored from Yama's dark domain The Vanar legions filled the plain, And, round the royal chief arrayed, With wondering hearts obeisance paid. Each God the son of Raghu praised, And cried as loud his voice he raised: "Turn, King, to fair Ayodhya speed, And leave thy friends of Vanar breed. Thy true devoted consort cheer After long days of woe and fear. Bharat, thy loyal brother, see, A hermit now for love of thee. The tears of Queen Kausalya dry, And light with joy each stepdame's eye; Then consecrated king of men Make glad each faithful citizen."

Thus with his words he undeceived Kausalya's troubled heart, who grieved For son and husband reft away; Then prostrate on the ground he lay. Him as he lay half-senseless there, Freed by the mighty oaths he sware, Kausalya, by her woe distressed, With melancholy words addressed: "Anew, my son, this sorrow springs To rend my heart with keener stings: These awful oaths which thou hast sworn My breast with double grief have torn. Thy soul, and faithful Lakshman's too, Are still, thank Heaven! to virtue true. True to thy promise, thou shalt gain The mansions which the good obtain."

Thus having said, Vasishtha next Ordained the fast by rule and text, For Rama faithful to his vows And the Videhan dame his spouse. Then from the prince's house he hied With courteous honours gratified. Round Rama gathered every friend In pleasant talk a while to spend. He bade good night to all at last, And to his inner chamber passed. Then Rama's house shone bright and gay With men and maids in glad array, As in the morning some fair lake When all her lotuses awake, And every bird that loves the flood Flits joyous round each opening bud.

Their prayer the son of Raghu heard, And spoke, his heart with rapture stirred: "Sugriva, O my faithful friend, Vibhishan and ye chiefs, ascend. A joy beyond all joys the best Will fill my overflowing breast, If girt by you, O noble band, I seek again my native land." With Vanar lords in danger tried Sugriva sprang to Rama's side, And girt by chiefs of giant kind Vibhishan's step was close behind. Swift through the air, as Rama chose, The wondrous car from earth arose. And decked with swans and silver wings Bore through the clouds its freight of kings.

"Heroic Rama, men proclaim The marvels of thy matchless fame, And I from loud-voiced rumour know The exploit of the broken bow, Yea, bent and broken, mighty Chief, A feat most wondrous, past belief. Stirred by thy fame thy face I sought: A peerless bow I too have brought. This mighty weapon, strong and dire, Great Jamadagni owned, my sire. Draw with its shaft my father's bow, And thus thy might, O Rama, show. This proof of prowess let me see-- The weapon bent and drawn by thee; Then single fight our strength shall try, And this shall raise thy glory high."

"Let time and place thy thoughts employ: In woe be strong, be meek in joy. Accept both pain and pleasure, still Obedient to Sugriva's will. Thou hast, my darling, from the first With tender care been softly nursed; But harder days, if thou wouldst win Sugriva's love, must now begin. To those who hate him ne'er incline, Nor count his foe a friend of thine. In all thy thoughts his welfare seek, Obedient, lowly, faithful, meek. Let no rash suit his bosom pain, Nor yet from due requests abstain.(608) Each is a grievous fault, between The two is found the happy mean."