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Chapter 2 - RAMAYANA CH 2

Who never from their duty swerved,

Their proper worship all addressed

To Bráhman, spirits, God, and guest.

Pure and unmixt their rites remained,

Their race's honour ne'er was stained.71

Cheered by his grandsons, sons, and wife,

Each passed a long and happy life.

Thus was that famous city held

By one who all his race excelled,

Blest in his gentle reign,

As the whole land aforetime swayed

By Manu, prince of men, obeyed

Her king from main to main.

And heroes kept her, strong and brave,

As lions guard their mountain cave:

Fierce as devouring flame they burned,

And fought till death, but never turned.

Horses had she of noblest breed,

Like Indra's for their form and speed,

From Váhlí's72 hills and Sindhu's73 sand,

Vanáyu74 and Kámboja's land.75

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Her noble elephants had strayed

Through Vindhyan and Himálayan shade,

Gigantic in their bulk and height,

Yet gentle in their matchless might.

They rivalled well the world-spread fame

Of the great stock from which they came,

Of Váman, vast of size,

Of Mahápadma's glorious line,

Thine, Anjan, and, Airávat, thine.76

Upholders of the skies.

With those, enrolled in fourfold class,

Who all their mighty kin surpass,

Whom men Matangas name,

And Mrigas spotted black and white,

And Bhadras of unwearied might,

And Mandras hard to tame.77

Thus, worthy of the name she bore,78

Ayodhyá for a league or more

Cast a bright glory round,

Where Daśaratha wise and great

Governed his fair ancestral state,

With every virtue crowned.

Like Indra in the skies he reigned

In that good town whose wall contained

High domes and turrets proud,

With gates and arcs of triumph decked,

And sturdy barriers to protect

Her gay and countless crowd.

Canto VII. The Ministers.

Two sages, holy saints, had he,

His ministers and priests to be:

Vaśishṭha, faithful to advise,

And Vámadeva, Scripture-wise.

Eight other lords around him stood,

All skilled to counsel, wise and good:

Jayanta, Vijay, Dhrishṭi bold

In fight, affairs of war controlled:

Siddhárth and Arthasádhak true

Watched o'er expense and revenue,

And Dharmapál and wise Aśok

Of right and law and justice spoke.

With these the sage Sumantra, skilled

To urge the car, high station filled.

All these in knowledge duly trained

Each passion and each sense restrained:

With modest manners, nobly bred

Each plan and nod and look they read,

Upon their neighbours' good intent,

Most active and benevolent:

As sit the Vasus79 round their king,

They sate around him counselling.

They ne'er in virtue's loftier pride

Another's lowly gifts decried.

In fair and seemly garb arrayed,

No weak uncertain plans they made.

Well skilled in business, fair and just,

They gained the people's love and trust,

And thus without oppression stored

The swelling treasury of their lord.

Bound in sweet friendship each to each,

They spoke kind thoughts in gentle speech.

They looked alike with equal eye

On every caste, on low and high.

Devoted to their king, they sought,

Ere his tongue spoke, to learn his thought,

And knew, as each occasion rose,

To hide their counsel or disclose.

In foreign lands or in their own

Whatever passed, to them was known.

By secret spies they timely knew

What men were doing or would do.

Skilled in the grounds of war and peace

They saw the monarch's state increase,

Watching his weal with conquering eye

That never let occasion by,

While nature lent her aid to bless

Their labours with unbought success.

Never for anger, lust, or gain,

Would they their lips with falsehood stain.

Inclined to mercy they could scan

The weakness and the strength of man.

They fairly judged both high and low,

And ne'er would wrong a guiltless foe;

Yet if a fault were proved, each one

Would punish e'en his own dear son.

But there and in the kingdom's bound

No thief or man impure was found:

None of loose life or evil fame,

No tempter of another's dame.

Contented with their lot each caste

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Calm days in blissful quiet passed;

And, all in fitting tasks employed,

Country and town deep rest enjoyed,

With these wise lords around his throne

The monarch justly reigned,

And making every heart his own

The love of all men gained.

With trusty agents, as beseems,

Each distant realm he scanned,

As the sun visits with his beams

Each corner of the land.

Ne'er would he on a mightier foe

With hostile troops advance,

Nor at an equal strike a blow

In war's delusive chance.

These lords in council bore their part

With ready brain and faithful heart,

With skill and knowledge, sense and tact,

Good to advise and bold to act.

And high and endless fame he won

With these to guide his schemes,

As, risen in his might, the sun

Wins glory with his beams.

Canto VIII. Sumantra's Speech.

But splendid, just, and great of mind,

The childless king for offspring pined.

No son had he his name to grace,

Transmitter of his royal race.

Long had his anxious bosom wrought,

And as he pondered rose the thought:

"A votive steed 'twere good to slay,

So might a son the gift repay."

Before his lords his plan he laid,

And bade them with their wisdom aid:

Then with these words Sumantra, best

Of royal counsellors, addressed:

"Hither, Vaśishṭha at their head,

Let all my priestly guides be led."

To him Sumantra made reply:

"Hear, Sire, a tale of days gone by.

To many a sage in time of old,

Sanatkumár, the saint, foretold

How from thine ancient line, O King,

A son, when years came round, should spring.

"Here dwells," 'twas thus the seer began,

"Of Kaśyap's80 race, a holy man,

Vibháṇdak named: to him shall spring

A son, the famous Rishyaśring.

Bred with the deer that round him roam,

The wood shall be that hermit's home.

To him no mortal shall be known

Except his holy sire alone.

Still by those laws shall he abide

Which lives of youthful Bráhmans guide,

Obedient to the strictest rule

That forms the young ascetic's school:

And all the wondering world shall hear

Of his stern life and penance drear;

His care to nurse the holy fire

And do the bidding of his sire.

Then, seated on the Angas'81 throne,

Shall Lomapád to fame be known.

But folly wrought by that great king

A plague upon the land shall bring;

No rain for many a year shall fall

And grievous drought shall ruin all.

The troubled king with many a prayer

Shall bid the priests some cure declare:

"The lore of Heaven 'tis yours to know,

Nor are ye blind to things below:

Declare, O holy men, the way

This plague to expiate and stay."

Those best of Bráhmans shall reply:

"By every art, O Monarch, try

Hither to bring Vibháṇdak's child,

Persuaded, captured, or beguiled.

And when the boy is hither led

To him thy daughter duly wed."

But how to bring that wondrous boy

His troubled thoughts will long employ,

And hopeless to achieve the task

He counsel of his lords will ask,

And bid his priests and servants bring

With honour saintly Rishyaśring.

But when they hear the monarch's speech,

All these their master will beseech,

With trembling hearts and looks of woe,

To spare them, for they fear to go.

And many a plan will they declare

And crafty plots will frame,

And promise fair to show him there,

Unforced, with none to blame.

On every word his lords shall say,

The king will meditate,

And on the third returning day

Recall them to debate.

Then this shall be the plan agreed,

That damsels shall be sent

Attired in holy hermits' weed,

And skilled in blandishment,

That they the hermit may beguile

With every art and amorous wile

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Whose use they know so well,

And by their witcheries seduce

The unsuspecting young recluse

To leave his father's cell.

Then when the boy with willing feet

Shall wander from his calm retreat

And in that city stand,

The troubles of the king shall end,

And streams of blessed rain descend

Upon the thirsty land.

Thus shall the holy Rishyaśring

To Lomapád, the mighty king,

By wedlock be allied;

For Śántá, fairest of the fair,

In mind and grace beyond compare,

Shall be his royal bride.

He, at the Offering of the Steed,

The flames with holy oil shall feed,

And for King Daśaratha gain

Sons whom his prayers have begged in vain."

"I have repeated, Sire, thus far,

The words of old Sanatkumár,

In order as he spoke them then

Amid the crowd of holy men."

Then Daśaratha cried with joy,

"Say how they brought the hermit boy."

Canto IX. Rishyasring.

The wise Sumantra, thus addressed,

Unfolded at the king's behest

The plan the lords in council laid

To draw the hermit from the shade:

"The priest, amid the lordly crowd,

To Lomapád thus spoke aloud:

"Hear, King, the plot our thoughts have framed,

A harmless trick by all unblamed.

Far from the world that hermit's child

Lives lonely in the distant wild:

A stranger to the joys of sense,

His bliss is pain and abstinence;

And all unknown are women yet

To him, a holy anchoret.

The gentle passions we will wake

That with resistless influence shake

The hearts of men; and he

Drawn by enchantment strong and sweet

Shall follow from his lone retreat,

And come and visit thee.

Let ships be formed with utmost care

That artificial trees may bear,

And sweet fruit deftly made;

Let goodly raiment, rich and rare,

And flowers, and many a bird be there

Beneath the leafy shade.

Upon the ships thus decked a band

Of young and lovely girls shall stand,

Rich in each charm that wakes desire,

And eyes that burn with amorous fire;

Well skilled to sing, and play, and dance

And ply their trade with smile and glance

Let these, attired in hermits' dress,

Betake them to the wilderness,

And bring the boy of life austere

A voluntary captive here."

He ended; and the king agreed,

By the priest's counsel won.

And all the ministers took heed

To see his bidding done.

In ships with wondrous art prepared

Away the lovely women fared,

And soon beneath the shade they stood

Of the wild, lonely, dreary wood.

And there the leafy cot they found

Where dwelt the devotee,

And looked with eager eyes around

The hermit's son to see.

Still, of Vibháṇdak sore afraid,

They hid behind the creepers' shade.

But when by careful watch they knew

The elder saint was far from view,

With bolder steps they ventured nigh

To catch the youthful hermit's eye.

Then all the damsels, blithe and gay,

At various games began to play.

They tossed the flying ball about

With dance and song and merry shout,

And moved, their scented tresses bound

With wreaths, in mazy motion round.

Some girls as if by love possessed,

Sank to the earth in feigned unrest,

Up starting quickly to pursue

Their intermitted game anew.

It was a lovely sight to see

Those fair ones, as they played,

While fragrant robes were floating free,

And bracelets clashing in their glee

A pleasant tinkling made.

The anklet's chime, the Koïl's82 cry

With music filled the place

As 'twere some city in the sky

Which heavenly minstrels grace.

With each voluptuous art they strove

To win the tenant of the grove,

And with their graceful forms inspire

His modest soul with soft desire.

With arch of brow, with beck and smile,

With every passion-waking wile

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Of glance and lotus hand,

With all enticements that excite

The longing for unknown delight

Which boys in vain withstand.

Forth came the hermit's son to view

The wondrous sight to him so new,

And gazed in rapt surprise,

For from his natal hour till then

On woman or the sons of men

He ne'er had cast his eyes.

He saw them with their waists so slim,

With fairest shape and faultless limb,

In variegated robes arrayed,

And sweetly singing as they played.

Near and more near the hermit drew,

And watched them at their game,

And stronger still the impulse grew

To question whence they came.

They marked the young ascetic gaze

With curious eye and wild amaze,

And sweet the long-eyed damsels sang,

And shrill their merry laughter rang.

Then came they nearer to his side,

And languishing with passion cried:

"Whose son, O youth, and who art thou,

Come suddenly to join us now?

And why dost thou all lonely dwell

In the wild wood? We pray thee, tell,

We wish to know thee, gentle youth;

Come, tell us, if thou wilt, the truth."

He gazed upon that sight he ne'er

Had seen before, of girls so fair,

And out of love a longing rose

His sire and lineage to disclose:

"My father," thus he made reply,

"Is Kaśyap's son, a saint most high,

Vibháṇdak styled; from him I came,

And Rishyaśring he calls my name.

Our hermit cot is near this place:

Come thither, O ye fair of face;

There be it mine, with honour due,

Ye gentle youths, to welcome you."

They heard his speech, and gave consent,

And gladly to his cottage went.

Vibháṇdak's son received them well

Beneath the shelter of his cell

With guest-gift, water for their feet,

And woodland fruit and roots to eat,

They smiled, and spoke sweet words like these,

Delighted with his courtesies:

"We too have goodly fruit in store,

Grown on the trees that shade our door;

Come, if thou wilt, kind Hermit, haste

The produce of our grove to taste;

And let, O good Ascetic, first

This holy water quench thy thirst."

They spoke, and gave him comfits sweet

Prepared ripe fruits to counterfeit;

And many a dainty cate beside

And luscious mead their stores supplied.

The seeming fruits, in taste and look,

The unsuspecting hermit took,

For, strange to him, their form beguiled

The dweller in the lonely wild.

Then round his neck fair arms were flung,

And there the laughing damsels clung,

And pressing nearer and more near

With sweet lips whispered at his ear;

While rounded limb and swelling breast

The youthful hermit softly pressed.

The pleasing charm of that strange bowl,

The touch of a tender limb,

Over his yielding spirit stole

And sweetly vanquished him.

But vows, they said, must now be paid;

They bade the boy farewell,

And, of the aged saint afraid,

Prepared to leave the dell.

With ready guile they told him where

Their hermit dwelling lay:

Then, lest the sire should find them there,

Sped by wild paths away.

They fled and left him there alone

By longing love possessed;

And with a heart no more his own

He roamed about distressed.

The aged saint came home, to find

The hermit boy distraught,

Revolving in his troubled mind

One solitary thought.

"Why dost thou not, my son," he cried,

"Thy due obeisance pay?

Why do I see thee in the tide

Of whelming thought to-day?

A devotee should never wear

A mien so sad and strange.

Come, quickly, dearest child, declare

The reason of the change."

And Rishyaśring, when questioned thus,

Made answer in this wise:

"O sire, there came to visit us

Some men with lovely eyes.

About my neck soft arms they wound

And kept me tightly held

To tender breasts so soft and round,

That strangely heaved and swelled.

They sing more sweetly as they dance

Than e'er I heard till now,

And play with many a sidelong glance

And arching of the brow."

"My son," said he, "thus giants roam

Where holy hermits are,

And wander round their peaceful home

Their rites austere to mar.

I charge thee, thou must never lay

Thy trust in them, dear boy:

They seek thee only to betray,

And woo but to destroy."

Thus having warned him of his foes

That night at home he spent.

And when the morrow's sun arose

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Forth to the forest went.

But Rishyaśring with eager pace

Sped forth and hurried to the place

Where he those visitants had seen

Of daintly waist and charming mien.

When from afar they saw the son

Of Saint Vibháṇdak toward them run,

To meet the hermit boy they hied,

And hailed him with a smile, and cried:

"O come, we pray, dear lord, behold

Our lovely home of which we told

Due honour there to thee we'll pay,

And speed thee on thy homeward way."

Pleased with the gracious words they said

He followed where the damsels led.

As with his guides his steps he bent,

That Bráhman high of worth,

A flood of rain from heaven was sent

That gladdened all the earth.

Vibháṇdak took his homeward road,

And wearied by the heavy load

Of roots and woodland fruit he bore

Entered at last his cottage door.

Fain for his son he looked around,

But desolate the cell he found.

He stayed not then to bathe his feet,

Though fainting with the toil and heat,

But hurried forth and roamed about

Calling the boy with cry and shout,

He searched the wood, but all in vain;

Nor tidings of his son could gain.

One day beyond the forest's bound

The wandering saint a village found,

And asked the swains and neatherds there

Who owned the land so rich and fair,

With all the hamlets of the plain,

And herds of kine and fields of grain.

They listened to the hermit's words,

And all the guardians of the herds,

With suppliant hands together pressed,

This answer to the saint addressed:

"The Angas' lord who bears the name

Of Lomapád, renowned by fame,

Bestowed these hamlets with their kine

And all their riches, as a sign

Of grace, on Rishyaśring: and he

Vibháṇdak's son is said to be."

The hermit with exulting breast

The mighty will of fate confessed,

By meditation's eye discerned;

And cheerful to his home returned.

A stately ship, at early morn,

The hermit's son away had borne.

Loud roared the clouds, as on he sped,

The sky grew blacker overhead;

Till, as he reached the royal town,

A mighty flood of rain came down.

By the great rain the monarch's mind

The coming of his guest divined.

To meet the honoured youth he went,

And low to earth his head he bent.

With his own priest to lead the train,

He gave the gift high guests obtain.

And sought, with all who dwelt within

The city walls, his grace to win.

He fed him with the daintiest fare,

He served him with unceasing care,

And ministered with anxious eyes

Lest anger in his breast should rise;

And gave to be the Bráhman's bride

His own fair daughter, lotus-eyed.

Thus loved and honoured by the king,

The glorious Bráhman Rishyaśring

Passed in that royal town his life

With Śántá his beloved wife."

Canto X. Rishyasring Invited.

"Again, O best of kings, give ear:

My saving words attentive hear,

And listen to the tale of old

By that illustrious Bráhman told.

"Of famed Ikshváku's line shall spring

('Twas thus he spoke) a pious king,

Named Daśaratha, 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,

Śántá of happy destiny.

But Lomapád, the Angas' chief,

Still pining in his childless grief,

To Daśaratha thus shall say:

"Give me thy daughter, friend, I pray,

Thy Śántá of the tranquil mind,

The noblest one of womankind."

The father, swift to feel for woe,

Shall on his friend his child bestow;

And he shall take her and depart

To his own town with joyous heart.

The maiden home in triumph led,

To Rishyaśring the king shall wed.

And he with loving joy and pride

Shall take her for his honoured bride.

And Daśaratha to a rite

That best of Bráhmans shall invite

With supplicating prayer,

To celebrate the sacrifice

To win him sons and Paradise,83

That he will fain prepare.

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From him the lord of men at length

The boon he seeks shall gain,

And see four sons of boundless strength

His royal line maintain."

"Thus did the godlike saint of old

The will of fate declare,

And all that should befall unfold

Amid the sages there.

O Prince supreme of men, go thou,

Consult thy holy guide,

And win, to aid thee in thy vow,

This Bráhman to thy side."

Sumantra's counsel, wise and good,

King Daśaratha heard,

Then by Vaśishṭha's side he stood

And thus with him conferred:

"Sumantra counsels thus: do thou

My priestly guide, the plan allow."

Vaśishṭha gave his glad consent,

And forth the happy monarch went

With lords and servants on the road

That led to Rishyaśring's abode.

Forests and rivers duly past,

He reached the distant town at last

Of Lomapád the Angas' king,

And entered it with welcoming.

On through the crowded streets he came,

And, radiant as the kindled flame,

He saw within the monarch's house

The hermit's son most glorious.

There Lomapád, with joyful breast,

To him all honour paid,

For friendship for his royal guest

His faithful bosom swayed.

Thus entertained with utmost care

Seven days, or eight, he tarried there,

And then that best of men thus broke

His purpose to the king, and spoke:

"O King of men, mine ancient friend,

(Thus Daśaratha prayed)

Thy Śántá with her husband send

My sacrifice to aid."

Said he who ruled the Angas, Yea,

And his consent was won:

And then at once he turned away

To warn the hermit's son.

He told him of their ties beyond

Their old affection's faithful bond:

"This king," he said, "from days of old

A well beloved friend I hold.

To me this pearl of dames he gave

From childless woe mine age to save,

The daughter whom he loved so much,

Moved by compassion's gentle touch.

In him thy Śántás father see:

As I am even so is he.

For sons the childless monarch yearns:

To thee alone for help he turns.

Go thou, the sacred rite ordain

To win the sons he prays to gain:

Go, with thy wife thy succour lend,

And give his vows a blissful end."

The hermit's son with quick accord

Obeyed the Angas' mighty lord,

And with fair Śántá at his side

To Daśaratha's city hied.

Each king, with suppliant hands upheld,

Gazed on the other's face:

And then by mutual love impelled

Met in a close embrace.

Then Daśaratha's thoughtful care,

Before he parted thence,

Bade trusty servants homeward bear

The glad intelligence:

"Let all the town be bright and gay

With burning incense sweet;

Let banners wave, and water lay

The dust in every street."

Glad were the citizens to learn

The tidings of their lord's return,

And through the city every man

Obediently his task began.

And fair and bright Ayodhyá showed,

As following his guest he rode

Through the full streets where shell and drum

Proclaimed aloud the king was come.

And all the people with delight

Kept gazing on their king,

Attended by that youth so bright,

The glorious Rishyaśring.

When to his home the king had brought

The hermit's saintly son,

He deemed that all his task was wrought,

And all he prayed for won.

And lords who saw that stranger dame

So beautiful to view,

Rejoiced within their hearts, and came

And paid her honour too.

There Rishyaśring passed blissful days,

Graced like the king with love and praise

And shone in glorious light with her,

Sweet Śántá, for his minister,

As Brahmá's son Vaśishṭha, he

Who wedded Saint Arundhatí.84

Canto XI. The Sacrifice Decreed.

The Dewy Season85 came and went;

The spring returned again:

Then would the king, with mind intent,

His sacrifice ordain.

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He came to Rishyaśring, and bowed

To him of look divine,

And bade him aid his offering vowed

For heirs, to save his line.

Nor would the youth his aid deny:

He spake the monarch fair,

And prayed him for that rite so high

All requisites prepare.

The king to wise Sumantra cried

Who stood aye ready near;

"Go summon quick each holy guide,

To counsel and to hear."

Obedient to his lord's behest

Away Sumantra sped,

And brought Vaśishṭha and the rest,

In Scripture deeply read.

Suyajǹa, Vámadeva came,

Jávali, Kaśyap's son,

And old Vaśishṭha, dear to fame,

Obedient every one.

King Daśaratha met them there

And duly honoured each,

And spoke in pleasant words his fair

And salutary speech:

"In childless longing doomed to pine,

No happiness, O lords, is mine.

So have I for this cause decreed

To slay the sacrificial steed.

Fain would I pay that offering high

Wherein the horse is doomed to die,

With Rishyaśring his aid to lend,

And with your glory to befriend."

With loud applause each holy man

Received his speech, approved the plan,

And, by the wise Vaśishṭha led,

Gave praises to the king, and said:

"The sons thou cravest shalt thou see,

Of fairest glory, born to thee,

Whose holy feelings bid thee take

This righteous course for offspring's sake."

Cheered by the ready praise of those

Whose aid he sought, his spirits rose,

And thus the king his speech renewed

With looks of joy and gratitude:

"Let what the coming rites require

Be ready as the priests desire,

And let the horse, ordained to bleed,

With fitting guard and priest, be freed,86

Yonder on Sarjú's northern side

The sacrificial ground provide;

And let the saving rites, that naught

Ill-omened may occur, be wrought.

The offering I announce to-day

Each lord of earth may claim to pay,

Provided that his care can guard

The holy rite by flaws unmarred.

For wandering fiends, whose watchful spite

Waits eagerly to spoil each rite,

Hunting with keenest eye detect

The slightest slip, the least neglect;

And when the sacred work is crossed

The workman is that moment lost.

Let preparation due be made:

Your powers the charge can meet:

That so the noble rite be paid

In every point complete."

And all the Bráhmans answered, Yea,

His mandate honouring,

And gladly promised to obey

The order of the king.

They cried with voices raised aloud:

"Success attend thine aim!"

Then bade farewell, and lowly bowed,

And hastened whence they came.

King Daśaratha went within,

His well loved wives to see:

And said: "Your lustral rites begin,

For these shall prosper me.

A glorious offering I prepare

That precious fruit of sons may bear."

Their lily faces brightened fast

Those pleasant words to hear,

As lilies, when the winter's past,

In lovelier hues appear.

Canto XII. The Sacrifice Begun.

Again the spring with genial heat

Returning made the year complete.

To win him sons, without delay

His vow the king resolved to pay:

And to Vaśishṭha, saintly man,

In modest words this speech began:

"Prepare the rite with all things fit

As is ordained in Holy Writ,

And keep with utmost care afar

Whate'er its sacred forms might mar.

Thou art, my lord, my trustiest guide,

Kind-hearted, and my friend beside;

So is it meet thou undertake

This heavy task for duty's sake."

Then he, of twice-born men the best,

His glad assent at once expressed:

"Fain will I do whate'er may be

Desired, O honoured King, by thee."

To ancient priests he spoke, who, trained

In holy rites, deep skill had gained:

"Here guards be stationed, good and sage

Religious men of trusted age.

And various workmen send and call,

Who frame the door and build the wall:

With men of every art and trade,

Who read the stars and ply the spade,

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And mimes and minstrels hither bring,

And damsels trained to dance and sing."

Then to the learned men he said,

In many a page of Scripture read:

"Be yours each rite performed to see

According to the king's decree.

And stranger Bráhmans quickly call

To this great rite that welcomes all.

Pavilions for the princes, decked

With art and ornament, erect,

And handsome booths by thousands made

The Bráhman visitors to shade,

Arranged in order side by side,

With meat and drink and all supplied.

And ample stables we shall need

For many an elephant and steed:

And chambers where the men may lie,

And vast apartments, broad and high,

Fit to receive the countless bands

Of warriors come from distant lands.

For our own people too provide

Sufficient tents, extended wide,

And stores of meat and drink prepare,

And all that can be needed there.

And food in plenty must be found

For guests from all the country round.

Of various viands presents make,

For honour, not for pity's sake,

That fit regard and worship be

Paid to each caste in due degree.

And let not wish or wrath excite

Your hearts the meanest guest to slight;

But still observe with special grace

Those who obtain the foremost place,

Whether for happier skill in art

Or bearing in the rite their part.

Do you, I pray, with friendly mind

Perform the task to you assigned,

And work the rite, as bids the law,

Without omission, slip, or flaw"

They answered: "As thou seest fit

So will we do and naught omit."

The sage Vaśiṣṭha then addressed

Sumantra called at his behest:

"The princes of the earth invite,

And famous lords who guard the rite,

Priest, Warrior, Merchant, lowly thrall,

In countless thousands summon all.

Where'er their home be, far or near,

Gather the good with honour here,

And Janak, whose imperial sway

The men of Míthilá87 obey.

The firm of vow, the dread of foes,

Who all the lore of Scripture knows,

Invite him here with honour high,

King Daśaratha's old ally.

And Káśi's88 lord of gentle speech,

Who finds a pleasant word for each,

In length of days our monarch's peer,

Illustrious king, invite him here.

The father of our ruler's bride,

Known for his virtues far and wide,

The king whom Kekaya's89 realms obey,

Him with his son invite, I pray.

And Lomapád the Angas' king,

True to his vows and godlike, bring.

For be thine invitations sent

To west and south and orient.

Call those who rule Suráshṭra's90 land,

Suvíra's91 realm and Sindhu's strand,

And all the kings of earth beside

In friendship's bonds with us allied:

Invite them all to hasten in

With retinue and kith and kin."

Vaśishṭha's speech without delay

Sumantra bent him to obey.

And sent his trusty envoys forth

Eastward and westward, south and north.

Obedient to the saint's request

Himself he hurried forth, and pressed

Each nobler chief and lord and king

To hasten to the gathering.

Before the saint Vaśishṭha 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 Daśaratha bore.

Then joy thrilled through Vaśishṭha's breast

As thus the monarch he addressed:

"Obedient to thy high decree

The kings, my lord, are come to thee.

[pg 022]

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 Rishyaśring 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 Vaśishṭha led

The priest begun to speed

Those glorious rites wherein is shed

The lifeblood of the steed.

Canto XIII. The Sacrifice Finished.

The circling year had filled its course,

And back was brought the wandering horse:

Then upon Sarjú's northern strand

Began the rite the king had planned.

With Rishyaśring the forms to guide,

The Bráhmans to their task applied,

At that great offering of the steed

Their lofty-minded king decreed.

The priests, who all the Scripture knew,

Performed their part in order due,

And circled round in solemn train

As precepts of the law ordain.

Pravargya rites92 were duly sped:

For Upasads93 the flames were fed.

Then from the plant94 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 Daśaratha's head.

Then Rishyaśring and all the rest

To Indra and the Gods addressed

Their sweet-toned hymn of praise and prayer,

And called them in the rite to share.

With sweetest song and hymn entoned

They gave the Gods in heaven enthroned,

As duty bids, the gifts they claim,

The holy oil that feeds the flame.

And many an offering there was paid,

And not one slip in all was made.

For with most careful heed they saw

That all was done by Veda law.

None, all those days, was seen oppressed

By hunger or by toil distressed.

Why speak of human kind? No beast

Was there that lacked an ample feast.

For there was store for all who came,

For orphan child and lonely dame;

The old and young were well supplied,

The poor and hungry satisfied.

Throughout the day ascetics fed,

And those who roam to beg their bread:

While all around the cry was still,

"Give forth, give forth," and "Eat your fill."

"Give forth with liberal hand the meal,

And various robes in largess deal."

Urged by these cries on every side

Unweariedly their task they plied:

And heaps of food like hills in size

In boundless plenty met the eyes:

And lakes of sauce, each day renewed,

Refreshed the weary multitude.

And strangers there from distant lands,

And women folk in crowded bands

The best of food and drink obtained

At the great rite the king ordained.

Apart from all, the Bráhmans there,

Thousands on thousands, took their share

Of various dainties sweet to taste,

On plates of gold and silver placed,

All ready set, as, when they willed,

The twice-born men their places filled.

And servants in fair garments dressed

Waited upon each Bráhman guest.

Of cheerful mind and mien were they,

With gold and jewelled earrings gay.

The best of Bráhmans praised the fare

Of countless sorts, of flavour rare:

And thus to Raghu's son they cried:

"We bless thee, and are satisfied."

Between the rites some Bráhmans spent

The time in learned argument,

[pg 023]

With ready flow of speech, sedate,

And keen to vanquish in debate.95

There day by day the holy train

Performed all rites as rules ordain.

No priest in all that host was found

But kept the vows that held him bound:

None, but the holy Vedas knew,

And all their six-fold science96 too.

No Bráhman there was found unfit

To speak with eloquence and wit.

And now the appointed time came near

The sacrificial posts to rear.

They brought them, and prepared to fix

Of Bel97 and Khádir98 six and six;

Six, made of the Paláśa99 tree,

Of Fig-wood one, apart to be:

Of Sleshmát100 and of Devadár101

One column each, the mightiest far:

So thick the two, the arms of man

Their ample girth would fail to span.

All these with utmost care were wrought

By hand of priests in Scripture taught,

And all with gold were gilded bright

To add new splendour to the rite:

Twenty-and-one those stakes in all,

Each one-and-twenty cubits tall:

And one-and-twenty ribbons there

Hung on the pillars, bright and fair.

Firm in the earth they stood at last,

Where cunning craftsmen fixed them fast;

And there unshaken each remained,

Octagonal and smoothly planed.

Then ribbons over all were hung,

And flowers and scent around them flung.

Thus decked they cast a glory forth

Like the great saints who star the north.102

The sacrificial altar then

Was raised by skilful twice-born men,

In shape and figure to behold

An eagle with his wings of gold,

With twice nine pits and formed three-fold

Each for some special God, beside

The pillars were the victims tied;

The birds that roam the wood, the air,

The water, and the land were there,

And snakes and things of reptile birth,

And healing herbs that spring from earth:

As texts prescribe, in Scripture found,

Three hundred victims there were bound.

The steed devoted to the host

Of Gods, the gem they honour most,

Was duly sprinkled. Then the Queen

Kauśalyá, with delighted mien,

With reverent steps around him paced,

And with sweet wreaths the victim graced;

Then with three swords in order due

She smote the steed with joy, and slew.

That night the queen, a son to gain,

With calm and steady heart was fain

By the dead charger's side to stay

From evening till the break of day.

Then came three priests, their care to lead

The other queens to touch the steed,

Upon Kauśalyá to attend,

Their company and aid to lend.

As by the horse she still reclined,

With happy mien and cheerful mind,

With Rishyaśring the twice-born came

And praised and blessed the royal dame.

The priest who well his duty knew,

And every sense could well subdue,

From out the bony chambers freed

And boiled the marrow of the steed.

Above the steam the monarch bent,

And, as he smelt the fragrant scent,

In time and order drove afar

All error that his hopes could mar.

Then sixteen priests together came

And cast into the sacred flame

The severed members of the horse,

Made ready all in ordered course.

On piles of holy Fig-tree raised

[pg 024]

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 Chatushṭom began the rite,

And when the sun renewed his light,

The Ukthya followed: after came

The Atirátra's holy flame.

These were the rites, and many more

Arranged by light of holy lore,

The Aptoryám of mighty power,

And, each performed in proper hour,

The Abhijit and Viśvajit

With every form and service fit;

And with the sacrifice at night

The Jyotishṭom and Áyus rite.103

The task was done, as laws prescribe:

The monarch, glory of his tribe,

Bestowed the land in liberal grants

Upon the sacred ministrants.

He gave the region of the east,

His conquest, to the Hotri priest.

The west, the celebrant obtained:

The south, the priest presiding gained:

The northern region was the share

Of him who chanted forth the prayer,104

Thus did each priest obtain his meed

At the great Slaughter of the Steed,

Ordained, the best of all to be,

By self-existent deity.

Ikshváku's son with joyful mind

This noble fee to each assigned,

But all the priests with one accord

Addressed that unpolluted lord:

"Tis thine alone to keep the whole

Of this broad earth in firm control.

[pg 025]

No gift of lands from thee we seek:

To guard these realms our hands were weak.

On sacred lore our days are spent:

Let other gifts our wants content."

The chief of old Ikshváku's line

Gave them ten hundred thousand kine,

A hundred millions of fine gold,

The same in silver four times told.

But every priest in presence there

With one accord resigned his share.

To Saint Vaśishṭha, high of soul,

And Rishyaśring they gave the whole.

That largess pleased those Bráhmans well,

Who bade the prince his wishes tell.

Then Daśaratha, mighty king,

Made answer thus to Rishyaśring:

"O holy Hermit, of thy grace,

Vouchsafe the increase of my race."

He spoke; nor was his prayer denied:

The best of Bráhmans thus replied:

"Four sons, O Monarch, shall be thine,

Upholders of thy royal line."

Canto XIV. Rávan Doomed.

The saint, well read in holy lore,

Pondered awhile his answer o'er,

And thus again addressed the king,

His wandering thoughts regathering:

"Another rite will I begin

Which shall the sons thou cravest win,

Where all things shall be duly sped

And first Atharva texts be read."

Then by Vibháṇdak's gentle son

Was that high sacrifice begun,

The king's advantage seeking still

And zealous to perform his will.

Now all the Gods had gathered there,

Each one for his allotted share:

Brahmá, the ruler of the sky,

Stháṇu, Náráyaṇ, Lord most high,

And holy Indra men might view

With Maruts105 for his retinue;

The heavenly chorister, and saint,

And spirit pure from earthly taint,

With one accord had sought the place

The high-souled monarch's rite to grace.

Then to the Gods who came to take

Their proper share the hermit spake:

"For you has Daśaratha slain

The votive steed, a son to gain;

Stern penance-rites the king has tried,

And in firm faith on you relied,

And now with undiminished care

A second rite would fain prepare.

But, O ye Gods, consent to grant

The longing of your supplicant.

For him beseeching hands I lift,

And pray you all to grant the gift,

That four fair sons of high renown

The offerings of the king may crown."

They to the hermit's son replied:

"His longing shall be gratified.

For, Bráhman, in most high degree

We love the king and honour thee."

These words the Gods in answer said,

And vanished thence by Indra led.

Thus to the Lord, the worlds who made,

The Immortals all assembled prayed:

"O Brahmá, mighty by thy grace,

Rávaṇ, who rules the giant race,

Torments us in his senseless pride,

And penance-loving saints beside.

For thou well pleased in days of old

Gavest the boon that makes him bold,

That God nor demon e'er should kill

His charmed life, for so thy will.

We, honouring that high behest,

Bear all his rage though sore distressed.

That lord of giants fierce and fell

Scourges the earth and heaven and hell.

Mad with thy boon, his impious rage

Smites saint and bard and God and sage.

The sun himself withholds his glow,

The wind in fear forbears to blow;

The fire restrains his wonted heat

Where stand the dreaded Rávaṇ's feet,

And, necklaced with the wandering wave,

The sea before him fears to rave.

Kuvera's self in sad defeat

Is driven from his blissful seat.

We see, we feel the giant's might,

And woe comes o'er us and affright.

To thee, O Lord, thy suppliants pray

To find some cure this plague to stay."

Thus by the gathered Gods addressed

He pondered in his secret breast,

And said: "One only way I find

To slay this fiend of evil mind.

He prayed me once his life to guard

From demon, God, and heavenly bard,

And spirits of the earth and air,

And I consenting heard his prayer.

But the proud giant in his scorn

Recked not of man of woman born.

None else may take his life away,

But only man the fiend may slay."

The Gods, with Indra at their head,

Rejoiced to hear the words he said.

Then crowned with glory like a flame,

Lord Vishṇu to the council came;

His hands shell, mace, and discus bore,

And saffron were the robes he wore.

[pg 026]

Riding his eagle through the crowd,

As the sun rides upon a cloud,

With bracelets of fine gold, he came

Loud welcomed by the Gods' acclaim.

His praise they sang with one consent,

And cried, in lowly reverence bent:

"O Lord whose hand fierce Madhu106 slew,

Be thou our refuge, firm and true;

Friend of the suffering worlds art thou,

We pray thee help thy suppliants now."

Then Vishṇu spake: "Ye Gods, declare,

What may I do to grant your prayer?"

"King Daśaratha," thus cried they,

"Fervent in penance many a day,

The sacrificial steed has slain,

Longing for sons, but all in vain.

Now, at the cry of us forlorn,

Incarnate as his seed be born.

Three queens has he: each lovely dame

Like Beauty, Modesty, or Fame.

Divide thyself in four, and be

His offspring by these noble three.

Man's nature take, and slay in fight

Rávaṇ who laughs at heavenly might:

This common scourge, this rankling thorn

Whom the three worlds too long have borne

For Rávaṇ in the senseless pride

Of might unequalled has defied

The host of heaven, and plagues with woe

Angel and bard and saint below,

Crushing each spirit and each maid

Who plays in Nandan's107 heavenly shade.

O conquering Lord, to thee we bow;

Our surest hope and trust art thou.

Regard the world of men below,

And slay the Gods' tremendous foe."

When thus the suppliant Gods had prayed,

His wise reply Náráyaṇ108 made:

"What task demands my presence there,

And whence this dread, ye Gods declare."

The Gods replied: "We fear, O Lord,

Fierce Rávaṇ, ravener abhorred.

Be thine the glorious task, we pray,

In human form this fiend to slay.

By thee of all the Blest alone

This sinner may be overthrown.

He gained by penance long and dire

The favour of the mighty Sire.

Then He who every gift bestows

Guarded the fiend from heavenly foes,

And gave a pledge his life that kept

From all things living, man except.

On him thus armed no other foe

Than man may deal the deadly blow.

Assume, O King, a mortal birth,

And strike the demon to the earth."

Then Vishṇu, God of Gods, the Lord

Supreme by all the worlds adored,

To Brahmá and the suppliants spake:

"Dismiss your fear: for your dear sake

In battle will I smite him dead,

The cruel fiend, the Immortal's dread.

And lords and ministers and all

His kith and kin with him shall fall.

Then, in the world of mortal men,

Ten thousand years and hundreds ten

I as a human king will reign,

And guard the earth as my domain."

God, saint, and nymph, and minstrel throng

With heavenly voices raised their song

In hymns of triumph to the God

Whose conquering feet on Madhu trod:

"Champion of Gods, as man appear,

This cruel Rávaṇ slay,

The thorn that saints and hermits fear,

The plague that none can stay.

In savage fury uncontrolled

His pride for ever grows:

He dares the Lord of Gods to hold

Among his deadly foes."

Canto XV. The Nectar.

When wisest Vishṇu thus had given

His promise to the Gods of heaven,

He pondered in his secret mind

A suited place of birth to find,

Then he decreed, the lotus-eyed,

In four his being to divide,

And Daśaratha, gracious king,

He chose as sire from whom to spring.

That childless prince of high renown,

Who smote in war his foemen down,

At that same time with utmost care

Prepared the rite that wins an heir.109

Then Vishṇu, fain on earth to dwell,

Bade the Almighty Sire farewell,

And vanished while a reverent crowd

Of Gods and saints in worship bowed.

The monarch watched the sacred rite,

When a vast form of awful might,

Of matchless splendour, strength, and size

Was manifest before his eyes.

[pg 027]

From forth the sacrificial flame,

Dark, robed in red, the being came.

His voice was drumlike, loud and low,

His face suffused with rosy glow.

Like a huge lion's mane appeared

The long locks of his hair and beard.

He shone with many a lucky sign,

And many an ornament divine;

A towering mountain in his height,

A tiger in his gait and might.

No precious mine more rich could be,

No burning flame more bright than he.

His arms embraced in loving hold,

Like a dear wife, a vase of gold

Whose silver lining held a draught

Of nectar as in heaven is quaffed:

A vase so vast, so bright to view,

They scarce could count the vision true.

Upon the king his eyes he bent,

And said: "The Lord of life has sent

His servant down, O Prince, to be

A messenger from heaven to thee."

The king with all his nobles by

Raised reverent hands and made reply:

"Welcome, O glorious being! Say

How can my care thy grace repay."

Envoy of Him whom all adore

Thus to the king he spake once more:

"The Gods accept thy worship: they

Give thee the blessed fruit to-day.

Approach and take, O glorious King,

This heavenly nectar which I bring,

For it shall give thee sons and wealth,

And bless thee with a store of health.

Give it to those fair queens of thine,

And bid them quaff the drink divine:

And they the princely sons shall bear

Long sought by sacrifice and prayer."

"Yea, O my lord," the monarch said,

And took the vase upon his head,

The gift of Gods, of fine gold wrought,

With store of heavenly liquor fraught.

He honoured, filled with transport new,

That wondrous being, fair to view,

As round the envoy of the God

With reverential steps he trod.110

His errand done, that form of light

Arose and vanished from the sight.

High rapture filled the monarch's soul,

Possessed of that celestial bowl,

As when a man by want distressed

With unexpected wealth is blest.

And rays of transport seemed to fall

Illuminating bower and hall,

As when the autumn moon rides high,

And floods with lovely light the sky.

Quick to the ladies' bower he sped,

And thus to Queen Kauśalyá said:

"This genial nectar take and quaff,"

He spoke, and gave the lady half.

Part of the nectar that remained

Sumitrá from his hand obtained.

He gave, to make her fruitful too,

Kaikeyí half the residue.

A portion yet remaining there,

He paused awhile to think.

Then gave Sumitrá, with her share.

The remnant of the drink.

Thus on each queen of those fair three

A part the king bestowed,

And with sweet hope a child to see

Their yearning bosoms glowed.

The heavenly bowl the king supplied

Their longing souls relieved,

And soon, with rapture and with pride,

Each royal dame conceived.

He gazed upon each lady's face,

And triumphed as he gazed,

As Indra in his royal place

By Gods and spirits praised.

Canto XVI. The Vánars.

When Vishṇu thus had gone on earth,

From the great king to take his birth,

The self-existent Lord of all

Addressed the Gods who heard his call:

"For Vishṇu's sake, the strong and true,

Who seeks the good of all of you,

Make helps, in war to lend him aid,

In forms that change at will, arrayed,

Of wizard skill and hero might,

Outstrippers of the wind in flight,

Skilled in the arts of counsel, wise,

And Vishṇu's peers in bold emprise;

With heavenly arts and prudence fraught,

By no devices to be caught;

Skilled in all weapon's lore and use

As they who drink the immortal juice.111

[pg 028]

And let the nymphs supreme in grace,

And maidens of the minstrel race,

Monkeys and snakes, and those who rove

Free spirits of the hill and grove,

And wandering Daughters of the Air,

In monkey form brave children bear.

So erst the lord of bears I shaped,

Born from my mouth as wide I gaped."

Thus by the mighty Sire addressed

They all obeyed his high behest,

And thus begot in countless swarms

Brave sons disguised in sylvan forms.

Each God, each sage became a sire,

Each minstrel of the heavenly quire,112

Each faun,113 of children strong and good

Whose feet should roam the hill and wood.

Snakes, bards,114 and spirits,115 serpents bold

Had sons too numerous to be told.

Báli, the woodland hosts who led,

High as Mahendra's116 lofty head,

Was Indra's child. That noblest fire,

The Sun, was great Sugríva's sire,

Tára, the mighty monkey, he

Was offspring of Vṛihaspati:117

Tára the matchless chieftain, boast

For wisdom of the Vánar host.

Of Gandhamádan brave and bold

The father was the Lord of Gold.

Nala the mighty, dear to fame,

Of skilful Viśvakarmá118 came.

From Agni,119 Nila bright as flame,

Who in his splendour, might, and worth,

Surpassed the sire who gave him birth.

The heavenly Aśvins,120 swift and fair,

Were fathers of a noble pair,

Who, Dwivida and Mainda named,

For beauty like their sires were famed,

Varuṇ121 was father of Susheṇ,

Of Sarabh, he who sends the rain,122

Hanúmán, best of monkey kind,

Was son of him who breathes the wind:

Like thunderbolt in frame was he,

And swift as Garuḍ's123 self could flee.

These thousands did the Gods create

Endowed with might that none could mate,

In monkey forms that changed at will;

So strong their wish the fiend to kill.

In mountain size, like lions thewed,

Up sprang the wondrous multitude,

Auxiliar hosts in every shape,

Monkey and bear and highland ape.

In each the strength, the might, the mien

Of his own parent God were seen.

Some chiefs of Vánar mothers came,

Some of she-bear and minstrel dame,

Skilled in all arms in battle's shock;

The brandished tree, the loosened rock;

And prompt, should other weapons fail,

To fight and slay with tooth and nail.

Their strength could shake the hills amain,

And rend the rooted trees in twain,

Disturb with their impetuous sweep

The Rivers' Lord, the Ocean deep,

Rend with their feet the seated ground,

And pass wide floods with airy bound,

Continue Ch 3