As some wild elephant who tries To soothe his consort as she lies Struck by the hunters venomed dart fco the great king, disturbed in heart Strove with soft hand and fond caress To soothe his darling queen's distress And in his love addressed with sighs ' The lady of the lotus eyes: ' I know not, Queen, why thou shouldst be Thus angered to the heart with me. Say, who has slighted thee, or whence Has come the cause of such offence That in the dust thou liest low, And rendest my fond heart with woe, As if some goblin of the night Had struck thee with a deadly blight, And cast f >ul influence on her Whose spells my loving bosom stir? I have Physicians famed for skill, Each trained to cure some special ill: My sweetest lady, tell thy pain, And they shall make thee well again. Whom, darling, wouldstthou punfshed see? Or whom enriched with lordly fee?
THE RAMA TAN.
Boole II.
WaepzcdJ, my Jevsl? Queen, and stay Thisjgyief? that»*ea'rs thyJrame away.
Speak, 'and the guihy Shall?3e^freed.
The guiltless be condemned to bleed, The poor enriched, the rich abased.
The low set high, the proud disgraced.
My lords and I thy will obey, All slaves who own thy sovereign sway; And I can ne'er my heart incline To check in aught one wish of thine.
Now by rny life I pray thee tell Q. he thoughts that in thy bosom dwell.
The power and might thou knowest well Should from thy breast all doubt expel.
I swear by all my merit won, Speak, arid thy pleasure shall be done.
Far as the world's wide bounds extend My glorious empire knows no end.
Mine are the tribes in eastern lands, And those who dwell on Sindhu's sands: Mine is Surashtra, far away, Suvira's realm admits rny sway.
My best the southern nations fear, The Angas and the Vangas hear.
And as lord paramount I reign O'er Magadh and the Matsyas' plain, Kosal, and Kasi's wide domain:] All rich in treasures of the mine, In golden corn, sheep, goats, and kine.
Choose what thou wilt, Kaikeyi, thence: But tell me, O my darling, whence Arose thy grief, and it shall fly Like hoar-frost when the sun is high.'
She, by his loving words consoled, Longed her dire purpose to unfold, And sought with sharper pangs to wring The bosom of her lord the king.
CANTO XL THE QUEEN'S DEMAND.
To him enthralled by love, and blind, Pierced by his darts who shakes the mind,2 'Kaikeyi with remorseless breast Her cruel purpose thus expressed: ' O King, no insult or neglect Have I endured, or disrespect.
One wish I have, and fain would see That long-ing granted, lord, by thee.
Now pledge thy word if thou incline 1 The Slnka or distich which I have been forced to expand into these nine lines is evidently spurious, but is found in all the commented MSS. which Schlegel consulted.
2 Manmatha, Mind-disturber, a name of Kama or Love.
To listen to this prayer of mine, Then I with confidence will speak, And thou shalt hear the boon I seek.'
Ere she had ceased, the monarch fell A victim to the lady's spell, And to the deadly snare she set Sprang, like a roebuck to the net. Her lover raised her drooping head, Smiled, playing with her hair, and said: Hast thou not learnt, wild dame, till now That there is none so dear as thou To me thy loving husband, save My Rama bravest of the brave t By him my race's high-souled heir, By him whom none can mateh, I swear, Now speak the wish that on thee weighs: By him whose right is length of days, Whom if my fond paternal eye • Saw not one hour I needs must die,— I swear by Raina!my*dear son, Speak, and thy bidding shall be done. Speak, darling; if thou choose, request To have the heart from out my breast; Regard my words, sweet love, and name The wish thy mind thinks fit to frame. Nor let thy soul give way to doubt: My power should drive suspicion out. Yea, by my merits won I swear, Speak, darling, I will grant thy prayer.'
The queen, ambitious, overjoyed To see him by her plot decoyed, More eager still her aims to reach, Spoke her abominable speech: ' A boon thou grantest, nothing loth, And swearest with repeated oath. Now let the thirty Gods and three My witnesses, with Indra, be. Let sun arid moon and planets hear, Heaven, quarters, day and night, give ear. The mighty world, the earth outspread, With bards of heaven and demons dread; The ghosts that walk in midnight shade, And household Gods, our present aid, And every being great and small To hear and mark the oath I call.'
When thus the archer king was bound With treacherous arts and oaths enwound, She to her bounteous lord subdued By blinding love, her speech renewed: ' Remember, King, that long-past day Of Gods' and demons' battle fray, And how thy foe in doubtful strife Had nigh bereft thee of thy life. Remember, it was only I Preserved thee when about to die, And thou for watchful love and care Wouldst grant my first and second prayer. Those offered boons,pl edged with thee then, I now demand, O King of men, Canto THE RAMA7AN.
Canto THE RAMA7AN.
Of thee, O Monarch, good and just, Whose righteous soul observes each trust. If thou refuse thy promise sworn, I die, despised, before the m >rn. Tnese rites in R4rna's name begun — Transfer them, and enthrone my son. Tue time is come to claim at last That double boon of days long-past, When Gods and dem >ns mst in tight, And thou wouldst fain my care requite. Now forth to Dandak's forest drive Thy Rama for niiie years and five, And let him dwell a hermit there With deerskin coat and matted hair. Without a rival let mv boy The empire of the land enjoy, And let mine eyes ere morning see Thy Rum a to the forest flee.'
CANTO XII.
DAgARATHA'S LAMENT.
The monarch, as Kaikeyi pressed With cruel words her dire request, Stood for a time absorbed in thought While anguish in his bosom wrought. ' Does some wild dream mv heart assail? Or do my troubled senses fail? Does some dire portent scare rnv view? Or frenzy's stroke my soul subdue? ' Thus as he thought, his troubled mind In doubt and dread no rest could find, Distressed and trembling like a deer Who sees the dreaded tigress near. On the bare ground his limbs he threw, And many a long deep sigh he drew, Like a wild snake, with fury blind, By charms within a ring confined. Once as the monarch's fury woke, ' Shame on thee! ' from his bosom broke, And then in sense -bewildering pain He fainted on the ground again. At length, when slowly strength returned He answered as his eyeballs burned With the wild fury of his ire Consuming her, as 'twere, with fire: ' Fell traitress, thou whose thoughts design The utter ruin of my line, What wrong have I or Rama done? Speak murderess, speak thou wicked one, Seeks he not evermore to please Thee with all sonlike courtesies? By what persuasion art thou led To bring this ruin on his head? Ah me, that fondly unaware I brought thee home my life to snare, Called daughter of a king, in truth A serpent with a venomed tooth! 8 What fault can I preteni to find u Rlma praised by all mankind, That I my darling sh mid forsake? $o, take my life, my glory take: L.et either queen be from me torn, But nob mv well-loved eldest-born. Elim but to see is highest bliss, And death itself his face to miss. The world may sunless stand, the grain May thrive without the genial rain, B=it if my R ima be not nigh My spirit from its frame will fly. E 10 ugh, thine impious plan forgo, O thou who plottesb sin and woe. My head before thy feet, I kneel, And prav thee some compassion feel, O wicked dame, what can have led Thy heart to dare a plot so dread? Perchance thy purpose is to sound The grace thy son with me has found; Perchance the words that, all these days, Thou still hast said in Rama's praise, Were only feigned, designed to cheer With flatteries a father's ear. Soon as thy grief, my Queen, I knew, My bosom felt the anguish too. In empty halls art thou possessed, And subject to anothers' hest? Now on Ikshvaku's ancient race Falls foul disorder and disgrace, If thou, O Queen, whose heart so long Has loved the good should choose the wrong Not once, O large- eyed dame, hast thou Been guilty of offence till now, Nor said a word to make me grieve, Nor will I now thy sin believe.
With thee my Rama used to hold Like place with Bharat lofty-souled. As thou so often, when the pair Were children yet, wouldst fain declare. And can thy righteous soul endure That Rama glorious, pious, pure, Should to the distant wilds be sent For fourteen years of banishment f Yea, Rama Bharat's self exceeds In love to thee and sonlike deeds, And, for deserving love of thee, As Bharat, even so is he. Who better than that chieftain may Obedience, love, and honour pay, Thy dignity with care protect, Thy slightest word and wish respect? Of all his countless followers none Can breathe a word against my son; Of many thousands not a dame Can hint reproach or whisper blame. All creatures feel the sweet control Of llama's pure and gentle soul. The pride of Manu's race he binds To him the people's grateful minds. He wins the subjects with his truth, THE RAM AY AN.
Book II.
The poor with gifts and gentle ruth, His teachers with his docile will, The foemen with his archer skill. Truth, purity, religious zeal, The hand to give, the heart to feel, The love that ne'er betrays a friend, The rectitude that naught can bend, Knowledge, and meek obedience grace My< Kama pride of Raghu's race. Canst thou thine impious plot design 'Gainst him in whom these virtues shine, Whose glory with the sages vies, Peer of the Gods who rale the skies? From him no harsh or bitter word To pain one creature have I heard, And how can I my son address, For thee, with words of bitterness? Have mercy, Queen: some pity show To see my tears of anguish flow, And listen to my mournful cry, A, poor old man who soon must die. Whate'er this sea-girt land can boast Of rich and rare from coast to coa^t, To thee, my Queen, I give it all: But O, thy deadly words recall: O see, my suppliant hands entreat, Again my lips are on thy feet: Save Rama, save my darling child, Nor kill me with this sin defiled.' He grovelled on the ground, and lay To burning grief a senseless prey, And ever and anon, assailed By floods of woe he wept and wailed, Striving with eager speed to gain The margent of his sea of pain.
With fiercer words she fiercer yet The hapless father's pleading met: ' O Monarch, if thy soul repent The promise and thy free consent, H0w wilt thou in the world maintain Thy fame for truth unsmirched with stain? When gathered kings with thee converse, And bid thee all the tale relrearse, What wilt thou say, O truthful King, In answer to their questioning? ' She to whose love my life I owe, Who saved me smitten by the foe, Kaikeyi, for her tender care, Was cheated of the oath I sware.' Thus wilt thcu answer, and forsworn Wilt draw on thee the princes' scorn. Learn from that tale, the Hawk and Dove,' How strong for truth was Saivya's love. Pledged by his word the monarch gave His flesh the suppliant bird to save. So King Alarka gave his eyes, And gained a mansion in the skies.
i This story is told in the Mahabharat. A free version of it may be f o.und in Scenes frvm -the ^dm dyan,< etc. » - The Sea himself his promise keeps, And ne'er beyond his limit sweeps. My deeds of old again recall, Nor let thy bond dishonoured fall. The rights of truth thou wouldst forget, Thy Rama on the throne to set, And let thy days in pleasure glide, Fond King, Kausalya by thy side. Now call it by what name thou wilt, Justice, injustice, virtue, guilt, Thy word and oath remain the same. Ami thou must yield what thus I claim. If Rama be anointed, I This very day will surely die, Before thy face will poison drink, And lifeless at thy feet will sink. Yea, better far to die than stay. Alive to see one single day The crowds before Kausalya stand And hail her queen with reverent hand. Now by my son. myself, I swear, No gift, no promise whatsoe'er My steadfast soul shall now content, But only llama's banishment.'
So far she spake by rage impelled, And then the queen deep silence held. He heard her speech full fraught with ill, But spoke no word bewildered still, Gazed, on his love once held so dear Who spoke unlovely rede to hear; Then as he slowly pondered o'er The queen's resolve and oath she swore, Once sighing forth. Ah Rama! he Fell prone as falls a smitten tree. His senses lost like one insane, Faint as a sick man weak with pain, Or like a wounded snake dismayed, So lay the king whom earth obeyed. Long burning sighs he slowly heaved, As, conquered by his woe, he grieved, And thus with tears and sobs between His sad faint words addressed the queen: ' By whom, Kaikeyi, wast thou taught This flattering hope with ruin fraught? Have goblins seized thy soul, O dame, Who thus canst speak and feel no shame? Thy mind with sin is sicklied o'er, From thy first youth ne'er seen before. A go< d and loving wife wast thou, But all, alas! is altered now. What terror can have seized thy breast To make thee frame this dire request, That Bharat o'er the land may reign, And Rama in the \\ ocds remain? Turn from thine evil ways, O turn, And thy perfidious counsel spurn, If thou would fain a favour do To people, lord, and Bharat too. O wicked traitress, fierce and vile,. Who lovest. deeds of sin and guile, Canto THE RAM A? AN.
What crime or grievance dost thou see, What fault in Rama or in me?
Thy son will ne'er the throne accept If Rama from his rights be kept, For Bharat's heart more lirmly yet Than Rama's is on justice set.
How shall I say, Go forth, and brook Upon my Rama's face to look, See his pale cheek and ashy lips Dimmed like the moon in sad eclipse?
How see the plan so well prepared When prudent friends my counsels shared, All ruined, like a host la'id low Beneath some foeman's murderous blow What will these gathered princes say, From regions near and far away 1 ' O'eiiong endures the monarch's reign, For now he is a child again.'
When many a good and holy sage In Scripture versed, revered for age, Shall ask for Rama, what shall I TFnhappy, what shall I reply?
' By Queen Kaikeyi long distressed I drove him forth and dispossessed.'
Although herein the truth I speak, They all will hold me false and weak.
What will Kausalya say when she Demands htr son exiled by me?
Alas! what answer shall I frame, Or how console the injured dame?
She like a slave on me attends, And with a sister's care she blends In spite of all her tender care, Her noble son, her face most fair, Another queen I could prefer And for thy sake neglected her, But now, O Queen, my heart is grieved For love and care by thee received, E'en as the sickening wretch repents His dainty meal and condiments.
And how will Queen Sumitra trust The husband whom she rinds unjust, Seeing my Rama driven hence Dishonoured, and for no offence?
Ah! the Videhan bride will hear A double woe, a double fear, Two whelming sorrows at one breath, Her lord's disgrace, his father's death.
Mine aged bosom she will wring And kill me with her sorrowing, Sad as a fair nymph left to weep Deserted on Himalaya's steep.
For short will be my days, I ween, When I with mournful eyes have seen My Rama wandering forth alone And heard dear Sita sob and moan.
Ah me! my fond belief I rue.
Vile traitress, loved as good and true, As one who in his thirst has quaffed, Deceived by looks, a deadly draught, Ah! thou hast slain me, murderess, while Soothing my soul with wcrds of guile, As the wild hunter kills the deer Lured from the brake his song to hear. Soon every honest tongue will fling Reproach on the dishonest king; The people's scorn in every street The seller of his child will meet, And such dishonour will be mine As whelms a Brahman drunk with wine, Ah me, for my unhappy fate, Compelled thy words to tolerate! Such woe is sent to scourge a crime Committed in some distant time. For many a day with sinful care I cherished thee, thou sin and snare, Kept thee, unwitting, like a cord Destined to bind its hapless lord. Mine hours of ease I spent with thee, Nor deemed my love my death would be. While like a heedless child I played, On a black snake my hand I laid. A cry from every mouth will burst And all the world will hold me curst, Because I saw my high-souled son Unkinged, unfathered, and undone: * The king by power of love beguiled Is weaker than a foolish child, His own beloved son to make An exile for a woman's sake. By chaste and holy vows restrained, By reverend teachers duly trained, When he his virtue's fruit should taste He falls by sin and woe disgraced.' Two words will all his answer be When I pronounce the stern decree, * Hence, llama, to the woods away,' All he will say is, I obey.
O, if he would my will withstand When banished from his home and land, This were a comfort in my woe; But he will ne'er do this, I know.
My Rama to the forest fled, And curses thick upon my head, Grim Death will bear me hence away, His world-abominated prey.
When I am gone and Rama too, How wilt thou thpse I love pursue?
What vengeful sin will be designed Against the queens I leave behind?
When thou hast slain her son and me Kausalya soon will follow: she Will sink beneath her sorrows' weight, And die like me disconsolate.
Exult, Kaikeyi, in thy pride, And let thy heart be gratified.
When thou my queens and me hast burled, And children/ to the under world.
Soon wilt thou rule as empress o'er My noble house unvext before, But then to wild confusion left, THE RAMAYAN.
Boole II.
Of Rama and of me bereft. If Bharat to thy plan consent And long for Rama's banishment, Ne'er let his hands presume to pay The funeral honours to my clay. Vile foe, thou cause, of all mine ill, Obtain at last thy cursed will. A widow soon shalt thou enjoy The sweets of empire with thy boy. O Princess, sure some evil fate First brought thee here to devastate, In whom the night of ruin lies Veiled in a consort's fair disguise. The scorn of all and deepest shame Will long pursue my hated name, And dire disgrace on me will press, Misled by thee to wickedness. How shall my Rama, whom, before, His elephant or chariot bore, Now with his feet, a wanderer, tread The forest wilds around him spread? How shall my son, to please whose taste The deftest cooks, with earrings graced, With rivalry and jealous care The dainty meal and cates prepare- How shall he now his life sustain With acid fruit and woodland grain? He spends his time unvext by cares, And robes of precious texture wears; How shall he, with one garment round His limbs recline up n the ground? Whose was this plan, this cruel thought Unheard till now, with ruin fraught, To make thy son Ayodhya's king, And send my Rama wandering? Shame, shame on women! Vile, untrue, Their selfish ends they still pursue.
Not all of womankind I mean, But more than all this wicked queen.
0 worthless, cruel, selfish dame, I brought thee home, my plague and woe. What fault in me hast thou to blame, Or in my son who loves thee so? Fond wives may from their husbands flee, And fathers may their sons desert, But all the world would rave to see My Rama touched with deadly hurt.
1 joy Ms very step to hear, As though his godlike form I viewed; And when I see my Rama near I feel my youth again renewed. There might be life without the sun, Yea, e'en if Indra sent no rain, But, were my Rama banished, none "Would, so I think, alive remain. A foe that longs my life to take, I brought thee here my death to be, Caressed thee long, a venomed snake, And through my folly die, Ah me! Bama and me and Lakshman slay, And then with Bharat rule the state; So bring the kingdom to decay, And fawn on those thy lord who hate. Plotter of woe, for evil bred, For such a speech why do not all Thy teeth from out thy wicked head Split in a thousand pieces fall? My Rama's words are ever kind, He knows not how to speak in ire: Then how canst thou presume to rind A fault in him whom all admire I Yield to despair, go mad, or die, Or sink within the rifted earth; Thy fell request will I deny, Thou shamer of thy royal birth. Thy longer life I scarce can bear, Thou ruin of my home and race, Who wouldst my heart and heartstrings tear, Keen as a razor, false and base. Mv life is gone, why speak of joy / For what, without my son, were sweet? Spare, lady, him thou canst destroy; I pray thee as I touch thy feet.' He fell and wept with wild complaint, Heart-struck by her presumptuous speeech, But could not touch, so weak and faint, The cruel feet he strove to reach.
CANTO XIIL DA^ARATHA'S DISTRESS.
Unworthy of his mournful fate, The mighty king, unfortunate, Lay prostrate in unseemly guise, As, banished from the blissful skies, Yayati, in his evil day, His merit all exhausted, lay.1 The queen, triumphant in the power Won by her beauty's fatal dower, Still terrible and unsubdued, Her dire demand again renewed: ' Great Monarch, 'twas thy boast till now To love the truth and keep the vow; Then wherefore would thy lips refuse The promised boon 'tis mine to choose? ' King Dasaratha, thus addressed, With anger raging in his breast, Sank for a while beneath the pain, Then to Kaikeyi spoke again: 1 Only the highest merit obtains a home in heaven for ever. Minor degrees of merit procure only leases of heavenly mansions terminable after periods propor- tioned to the fund which buys them. King Yayati went to heaven and when his term expired was unceremoniously ejected, and thrown down to earth.
n to XIV.
THE RAM AY AN.
' Childless so long, at length I won, With mighty toil, from Heaven a son, Rama, the mighty-armed; and how Shall I desert my darling now?
A scholar wise, a hero bold, Of patient mood, with wrath controlled, How can I bid my Rama lly, My darling of the lotus eye?
In heaven itself I scarce could bear, When asking of my Rama there, To hear the Gods his griefs declare, And O, that death would take me hence Before I wrong his innocence 1 ' As thus the monarch wept and wailed, And maddening grief his heart assailed, The sun had sought his resting-place, And night was closing round apaoe. But yet the moon-crowned night could bring No comfort to the wretched king. As still he mourned with burning sighs And fixed his gaze upon the skies: 4 O Night whom starry fires adorn, T long not for the coming morn. Be kind and show some mercy: see, My suppliant hands are raised to thee. Nay, rather fly with swifter pace; Ho longer would I see the face Of Queen Kaikeyi, cruel, dread, Who brings this woe upon mine head.' Again with suppliant hands he tried To move the queen, and wept and sighed: ' To me, unhappy me, inclined To good, sweet dame, thou shouldst be kind; Whose life is well-nigh fled, who cling To thee for succour, me thy king. This, only this, is all my claim: Have mercy, O my lovely dame. None else have i to take my part: Have mercy: thou art good at heart. Hear, lady of the soft black eye. And win a name that ne'er shall die: Let Rama rule this glorious land, The gift of thine imperial hand, O lady of the dainty waist, With eyes and lips of beauty graced, Please Rama, me, each saintly priest, Bharat, and all from chief to least.' She heard his wild and mournful cry, She saw the tears his speech that broke, Saw her good hasband's reddened eye, But, cruel still, no word she spoke. His eyes upon her face he bent, And sought for mercy, but in vain: She claimed his darling's banishment, He swooned upon, the ground again.
CANTO XIV.
RAMA SUMMONED.
The wicked queen her speech renewed, When rolling on the earth she viewed Ikshv^ku's son, Ayodhya's king, For his dear Rama sorrowing: * Why, by a simple promise bound, Liest thou prostrate on the ground, As though a grievous sin dismayed Thy spirit? Why so sore afraid! Keep still thy word. The righteous deem That truth, mid duties, is supreme: And now in truth and honour's name I bid thee own the binding claim. &aivya, a king whom earth obeyed, Once to a hawk a promise made, Gave to the bird his flesh and bone, And by his truth made heaven his own.1 Alarka, when a Brahman famed For Scripture lore his promise claimed, Tore from his head his bleeding eyes And unreluctant gave the prize. His narrow bounds prescribed restrain The Rivers' Lord, the mighty main, Who, though his waters boil and rave, Keeps faithful to the word he gave, Truth all religion comprehends, Through all the world its might extends: In truth alone is justice placed, On truth the words of God are based; A life in truth unchanging past Will bring the highest bliss at last If thou the right would still pursue, Be constant to thy word and true: Let me thy promise fruitful see, For boons, O King, proceed from thee. STow to preserve thy righteous fame, And yielding to my earnest claim- Thrice I repeat it — send thy child, Chy Rama, to the forest wild. 3ut if the boon thou still deny, Before thy face, forlorn, I die.' Thus was the helpless monarch stung y Queen Kaikeyi's fearless tongue, As Bali strove in vain to loose limbs from Indra's fatal noose. Dismayed in soul and pale with fear, The monarch, like a trembling steer between the chariot's wheel and yoke, Again to Queen Kaikeyi spoke, With sad eyes fixt in vacant stare, Gathering courage from despair: * That hand I took, thou sinful dame, With texts, before the sacred flame, Thee and thy son, I scorn and hate, And all at once repudiate.
» See Additional Notes, THE SUPPLIANT DOVE.
THE RAM AY AN.
Zook 11.
The night is fled: the dawn is near: Soon will the holy priests be here TO bid me for the rite prepare That with my son the throne will share, The preparation made to grace My Rama in his royal place— With this, e'en this, my darling for My death the funeral flood shall pour. Thou and thy son at least forbear In offerings to my shade to share, For by the plot thy guile has laid His consecration will be stayed. This very day how shall I brook To meet each subject's altered look? To mark each gloomy joyless brow That was so bright and glad but now? ' While thus the high-souled monarch spoke spoke To the stern queen, the morning broke, And holy night had slowly fled, With moon and stars engarlanded. Yet once again the cruel queen Spoke words in answer fierce and keen, Still on her evil purpose bent, Wil'd with her rage and eloquent: * What speech is this? Such words as these Seem sprung from poison-sown disease. Quick to thy noble Rama send And bid him on his sire attend. When to my son the rule is given; When Rama to the woods is driven; When not a rival copes with me, From chains of duty thou art free.'
Thus goaded, like a generous steed Urged by sharp spurs to double speed, ' My senses are astray,' he cried, ' And duty's bonds my hands have tied. I long to see mine eldest son, My virtuous, my beloved one.'