Before a lonely cottage hung, And there a hermit, dust-besmeared, A lotus on his breast, appeared.
Then Rama with obeisance due Addressed the sage, as near he drew: * My name is Rama, lord; I seek Thy presence, saint, with thee to speak.
0 sage, whose merits ne'er decay, Some word unto thy servant say.'
The sage his eyes on Rama bent, Of virtue's friends preeminent; Then words like these he spoke, and pressed The son of Kaghu to his breast: 'Welcome to thee, illustrious youth, Best champion of the rights of truth! By thine approach this holy ground Axworthy lord this day has found.
1 could not quit this mortal frame Till thou shouldst come, O dear to fame: To heavenly spheres I would not rise, Expecting thee with eager eyes.
I knew that thou, unkinged, hadst made Thy home in Chitrakuta's shade. E'en now, O Rama, Indra, lord Supreme by all the Gods adored, King of the Hundred Offerings,1 said, When he my dwelling visited, That the good works that I have done My choice of all the worlds have won. Accept this meed of holy vows, And with thy brother and thy spouse, Koam, through my favour, in the sky Which saints celestial glorify.'
To that bright sage, of penance stern, The high-Bottled Rama spake in turn, As Vasava2 who rules the skies To Brahma's gracious speech replies: * I of myself those worlds will win, O mighty hermit pure from sin: But now, 0 saint, I pray thee tell Where I within this wood may dwell: For I by Sarabhanga old, The son of Gautama, was told That thou in every lore art wise, And seest all with loving eyes.'
Thus to the saint, whose glories high Filled all the world, he made reply: And thus again the holy man His pleasant speech with joy began: ' This calm retreat, O Prince, is blest With many a charm: here take thy rest. Here roots and kindly fruits abound, And hermits love the holy ground. Fair silvan beasts and gentle deer In herds unnumbered wander here: And as they roam, secure from harm, Our eyes with grace and beauty charm: Except the beasts in thickets bred, This grove of ours has naught to dread.1 The hermit's speech when Rama heard, — The hero ne'er by terror stirred,— On his great bow his hand he laid, And thus in turn his answer made: 4 O saint, my darts of keenest steel, Armed with their murderous barbs, would deal Destruction mid the silvan race That flocks around thy dwelling-place. Most wretched then m}' fate would be For such dishonour shown to thee: And only for the briefest stay Would I within this grove delay.'
He spoke and ceased. With pious care He turned him to his evening prayer, Performed each customary rite, And sought his lodging for the night, With Sita and his brother laid 1 Near the celebrated Ramagiri or Kama's Hill, now Ram-tek, near Nagpore —the scene of the Vaksha's exile in the Messenger Cloud, 1 A hundred A warned has or sacrifices of a horse raise the sacrificer to the dignity of Indra.
* Indra.
Canto IX.
THE RAM AY AN.
Beneath the grove's delightful shade, rirst good Sutikshiia, when he saw The shades of night around them draw, With hospitable care Tie princely chieftains entertained With store of choicest food ordained For holy hermit's fare.
CANTO VIII.
THE HERMITAGE.
So Rama and Sumitra's son, When every honour due was done, Slept through the night. When morning broke, The heroes from their rest awoke. Betimes the son of Raghu rose, With gentle Sita. from repose, And sipped the cool delicious wave Sweet with the scent the lotus gave, Then to the Gods and sacred flame The heroes and the lady came, And bent their heads in honour meet Within the hermit's pure retreat. When every stain was purged away, They saw the rising Lord of Day: Then to Sutikhna's side they went, And softly spoke, most reverent: 1 Well have we slept, O holy lord, Honoured of thee by all adored; Now leave to journey forth we pray: These hermits urge us on our way. We haste to visit, wandering bv, The ascetics' homes that round you lie, And roaming Dandak's mighty wood To view each saintly brotherhood. For thy permission now we sue, With these high saints to duty true, By penance taught each sense to tame,— In lustre like the smokeless flame. Ere on our brows the sun can beat With fierce intolerable heat, Like some unworthy lord who wins His power by tyranny and sins, O saint, we fain would part.' The three Bent humbly to the dovotee. He raised the princes as they pressed His feet, and strained them to his breast; And then the chief of devotees Bespake them both in words like these: ' Go with thy brother, Rama, go, Pursue thy path untouched by woe: Go with thy faithful Sita, she Still like a shadow follows thee. Roam Dandak wood observing well The pleasant homes where hermits dwell, — Pure saints whose ordered souls adhere To penatioe rites and vows austere.
There plenteous roots and berries grow, And noble trees their blossoms show, And gentle deer and birds of air In peaceful troops are gathered there.
There see the full-blown lotus stud The bosom of the lucid flood, And watch the joyous mallard shake The reeds that fringe the pool and lake, See with delighted eye the rill Leap sparkling from her parent hill, And hear the woods that round theu lie Reecho to the peacock's cry.
And as I bid thy brother, so, Sumitra's child, I bid thee go.
Go forth, these varied beauties see, And then once more return to me.'
Thus spake the sage Sutikshria: both The chiefs assented, nothing loth. Round him with circling steps they paced: Then for the road prepared with haste. There Sita stood, the dame long-eyed, Fair quivers round their waists she tied, And gave each prince his trust v bow, And sword which ne'er a spot might know. Each took his quiver from her hand. And clanging bow and gleaming brand; Then from the hermits' home the two Went forth each woodland scene to view. Each beauteous in the bloom of age, Dismissed by that illustrious sage, With bow and sword accoutred, hied Away, and Sita by their side.
CANTO IX.
SITA'S SPEECH.
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 sharne 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 tirsfc, 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, suoh crime in thee, I ween, Eas ne'er been found, shall ne'er be seen: The very thought, my princely lord, in thy secret soul abhorred.
THE RAM AY AN.
Bool 111 For thou hast ever been the same Fond lover of thine own dear dame, Content with faithful heart to do Thy father's wilJ, most just and true: Justice, and faith, arid many a grace In thee have found a resting-place.
Such virtues, Prince, the gocd may gain "Who empire o'er each sense retain; And well canst thou, \vith 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 Danndak 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.
Thou with thy brother, bow in hand, Beneath those ancient trees wilt stand, And thy keen arrows will not spare Wood-rovers who will meet thee there.
For as the fuel food supplies That bids the dormant rlame arise, Thus when the warrior grasps his bow He feels his breast with ardour glow.
Deep in a holy grove, of yore, Where bird and beast from strife forbore, &uchi beneath the sheltering boughs, A truthful hermit, kept his vows.
Then Indra, £achi's heavenly lord, Armed like a warrior with a sword, Came to his tranquil home to spoil The hermit of his holy toil, And left the glorious weapon there Entrusted to the hermit's care, A pledge for him to keep, whose mind To fervent zeal was all resigned.
He took the brand: with utmost heed He kept it for the warrior's need: To keep his trust he fondly strove When roaming in the neighbouring grove: Whene'er for roots and fruit he strayed Still by his side he bore the blade: Still on his sacred charge intent, He took his treasure when he went. * AM day by day that brand he wore, The hermit, rich in merit's store, From penance rites each thought withdrew, And tierce and wild his spirit grew. With heedless soul he spumed the right, And found in cruel deeds delight. So, living with the sword, he fell, A ruined hermit, down to hell. This tale applies to those who deal Too closely with the warrior's steel: The steel to warriors is the same As fuel to the smouldering flame. Sincere affection prompts my speech; 1 honour where I fain would teach. 3VJ ayst thou, thus armed with shaft and bow, So dire a longing never know As, when no hatred prompts the fray, These giants of the wood to slay: For he who kills without offence Shall win but little glory thence. The bow the warrior jovs to bend Is lent him for a nobler end, That he may save and succour those Who watch in woods when pressed by foes. What, matched with woods, is bow or steel? What, warrior's arm with hermit's zeal? We with such might have naught to do: The forest rule should guide us too. But when Ayodhya hails thee lord, Be then thy warrior life restored: So shall thy sire ] and mother joy In bliss that naught may e'er destroy. And if, resigning empire, thou Submit thee to the hermit's vow, The noblest gain from virtue springs, And virtue joy unending brings. All earthly blessings virtue sends: On virtue all the world depends.
Those who with vow and fasting tame To due restraint the mind and frame, Win by their labour, nobly wise, The highest virtue for their prize. Pure in the hermit's grove remain, True to thy duty, free from stain. Hut the three worlds are open thrown To thee, by whom all things are known. Who gave me power that I should dare His duty to my lord declare? 'Tis woman's fancy, light as air, That moves my foolish breast. Now with thy brother counsel take, Reflect, thy choice with judgment make, And do what seems the best.'
1 Gorresio observes that Dasaratha was dead and that Sita had been informed of his death. In his translation he substitutes for the words of the text 'thy relations and mine.' This is quite superfluous. Dasaratha though in heaven still took a loving interest in the fortunes of his son.
to XI.
THE RAMAYAN.
CANTO X.
RAMA'S REPLY.
The words that Sita uttered, spurred By truest love, the hero heard: Then he who ne'er from virtue strayed To Janak's child his answer made: ' In thy wise speech, sweet love, I find True impress of thy gentle mind, Well skilled the warrior's path to trace, Thou pride of Janak's ancient race. What fitting answer shall I frame To thy good words, my honoured dame? Thou sayst the warrior hears the bow That misery's tears may cease to flow; And those pure saints who love the shade Of Dandak wood are sore dismayed. They sought me of their own accord, With suppliant prayers my aid implored: They, fed on roots and fruit, who spend Their lives where bosky wilds extend, . My timid love, enjoy no rest By these malignant fiends distressed. These make the flesh of man their meat: The helpless saints they kill and eat. The hermits sought my side, the chief Of Brahman race declared their grief. I heard, and from my lips there fell The words which thou rememberest well: I listened as the hermits cried, And to their prayers I thus replied: ' Your favour, gracious lords, I claim, O'erwhelmed with this enormous shame That Brahmans, great and pure as you, Who should be sought, to me should sue.' And then before the saintly crowd, ' What can I do?' I cried aloud. Then from the trembling hermits broke One long sad cry, and thus they spoke: ' Fiends of the wood, who wear at will Each varied shape, afflict us still. To thee in our distress we fly: C) help us, Rama, or we die. When sacred rites of fire are due, When changing moons are full or new, These fiends who bleeding flesh devour Assail us with resistless power. They with their cruel might torment The hermits on their vows intent: We look around for help and see Our surest refuge, Prince, in thee. We, armed with powers of penance, might Destroy the rovers of the night: But loth were we to bring to naught The merit years of toil have bought. Our penance rites are grown too hard, By many a check and trouble barred, But though our saints for food are slain The withering curse we yet restrain.
Thus many a weary day distressed By giants who this wood infest, We see at length deliverance, thou With Lakshman art our guardian now.* As thus the troubled hermits prayed,' I promised, dame, my ready aid, And now — for truth I hold most dear- Still to my word must I adhere. My love, 1 might endure to be Deprived of Lakshman, life, and thee, But ne'er deny my promise, ne'er To Brahmans break the oath I sware. I must, enforced by high constraint, Protect them all. Each suffering saint In me, unasked, his help had found; Still more in one b}7 promise bound. I know thy words, mine own dear dame, From thy sweet heart's affection came: I thank thee for thy gentle speech, For those we love are those we teach. 'Tis like thyself, O fair of face, 'Tis worthy of thy noble race: Dearer than life, thy feet are set In righteous paths they ne'er forget.'
Thus to the Maithil monarch's child, His own dear wife, in accents mild The high-souled hero said: Then to the holy groves which lay Beyond them fair to see, their way The bow-armed chieftain led.
CANTO XL AGASTYA.
Rama went foremost of the three, Next Sita, followed, fair to see, And Lakshman with his bow in hand Walked hindmost of the little band. As onward through the wood they went, With great delight their eyes were bent On rocky heights beside the way And lofty trees with blossoms gay; And streamlets running fair and fast The royal youths with Sita passed. They watched the saras and the drake On islets of the stream and lake, And gazed delighted on the floods Bright with gay birds and lotus buds. They saw in startled herds the roes, The passion -frenzied buffaloes, Wild elephants who fiercely tore The tender trees, and many a boar. A length of woodland way they passed, An<^ when the sun was low at last A lovely stream-fed lake they spied, Two leagues across from side to side. Tall 'elephants fresh beauty gave To grassy bank and lilied wave, THE RAM AY AN.
Book III.
By many a swan and saras stirred, Mallard, and gay-winged water-bird. From those sweet waters, loud and long, Though none was seen to wake the song, Swelled high the singer's music blent With each melodious instrument. Kama and car- borne Lakshman heard The charming strain, witli wonder stirred, Turned on the margent of the lake To Dharmabhrit1 the sage, and spake: ' Our longing souls, O hermit, burn This music of the lake to learn: We pray thee, noblest sage, explain * The cause of the mysterious strain.' He, as the son of Raghu prayed, With swift accord his answer made, And thus the hermit, virtuous-souled, The story of the fair lake told: * Through every age 'tis known to fame, Panchapsaras2 its glorious name, By holy Mandakarni wrought With power 'his rites austere had bought. For he, great votarist, intent On strictest rule his stern life spent. Ten thosand years the stream his bed, Ten thousand years on air he fed. Then on the blessed Gods who dwell In heavenly homes great terror fell: They gathered all, by Agni led, And counselled thus disquieted: ' The hermit by ascetic pain The seat of one of us would gain.' Thus with their hearts by fear oppressed In full assembly spoke the Blest, And bade five loveliest nymphs, as fair As lightning in the evening air, Armed with their winning wiles, seduce From his stern vows the great recluse. Though lore of earth and heaven he knew, The hermit from his task they drew, And made the great ascetic slave To conquering love, the Gods to save. Each of the heavenly five became, Bound to the sage, his wedded dame; And he, for his beloved's sake, Formed a fair palace neath the lake. Under the flood the ladies live, To joy and ease their days they give, And lap in bliss the hermit wooed From penance rites to youth renewed. So when the sportive nymphs within Those secret bowers their play begin, You hear the singers' dulcet tones Blend sweetly with their tinkling zones.'
* How wondrous are these words of thine! ' Cried the famed chiefs of Raghu's line, 1 One of the hermits who had followed Rama.
2 The lake of the five nymphs, As thus they heard the sage unfold The marvels of the tale he told.
As Rama spake, his eyes were bent Upon a hermit settlement With light of heavenly lore endued, With sacred grass and vesture strewed. His wife and brother by his side, Within the holy bounds he hied, And there, with honour entertained By all the saints, a while remained. In time, by due succession led, Each votary's cot he visited, And then the lord of martial lore, Returned where he had lodged before. Here for the months, content, he stayed, There for a year his visit paid: Here for four months his home would fix There, as it chanced, for five or six. Here for eight months and there for three The son of Raghu's stay would be: Here weeks, there fortnights, more or less, He spent in tranquil happiness. As there the hero dwelt at ease Among those holy devotees, In days untroubled o'er his head Ten circling years of pleasure fled. So Raghu's son in duty trained A while in every cot remained, Then with his dame retraced the road To good Sutikshna's calm abode. Hailed by the saints with honours due Near to the hermit's home he drew, And there the tamer of his foes Dwelt for a time in sweet repose. One day within that holy wood By saint Sutikslma Rama stood, And thus the prince with reverence meek To that high sage began to speak: 'In the wide woodlands that extend Around us, lord most reverend. As frequent voice of rumour tells, Agastya, saintliest hermit, dwells. So vast the wood, I cannot trace The path to reach his dwelling place, Nor, searching unassisted, find That hermit of the thoughtful mind, I with my wife and brother fain Would go, his favour to obtain, Would seek him in his lone retreat And the great saint with reverence greet. This one desire, 0 Master, long Cherished within my heart, is strong, That I may pay of free accord My duty to that hermit lord.'
As thus the prince whose heart was bent On virtue told his firm intent, The good Sutikshna's joy rose high, And thus in turn he made reply: The very thing, 0 Prince, which thou Hast sought, 1 wished to urge bub now, Bid thee with wife and brother see Canto XL THE RAMAYAN.
Agastya, glorious devotee.
I count this thing an omen fair That thou shouldst thus thy wish declare, And I, my Prince, will gladly teach The way Agastya's home to reach.
Southward, dear son, direct thy feet Eight leagues beyond this still retreat: Agastya's hermit brother there Dwells in a home most bright and fair.
'Tis on a knoll of woody ground, With many a branching Pippal1 crowned: There sweet birds' voices ne'er are mute, And trees are gay with flower and fruit.
There many a lake gleams bright and cool, And lilies deck each pleasant pool, While swan, and crane, and mallard's wings Are lovely in the water-springs.
There for one night, O Rama, stay, And with the dawn pursue thy way.
Still farther, bending southward, by The thicket's edge thy course must lie, And thou wilt see, two leagues from thence Agastya's lovely residence, Set in the woodland's fairest spot, All varied foliage decks the cot: There Sita, Lakshman thou, at ease May spend sweet hours neath shady trees, For all of noblest growth are found Luxuriant on that bosky ground.
If it be still thy firm intent To see that saint preeminent, 0 mighty counsellor, this day Depart upon thine onward way.'
The hermit spake, and Rama bent His head, with Lakshman, reverent, And then with him and Janak's child Set out to trace the forest wild. He saw dark woods that fringed the road, And distant hills like clouds that showed, And, as the way he followed, met With many a lake and rivulet. So passing on with ease where led The path Sutikshna bade him tread, The hero with exulting breast His brother in these words addressed: 4 Here, surely, is the home, in sight, Of that illustrious anchorite: Here great Agastya's brother leads A life intent on holy deeds. Warned of each guiding mark and sign, 1 see them all herein combine: I see the branches bending low Beneath the flowers and fruit they show. A soft air from the forest springs, Fresh from the odorous grass, and brings A spicy fragrance as it flees O'er the ripe fruit of Pippal trees. See, here and there around us high Piled up in heaps cleft billets lie, 1 The holy fig-tree.
And holy grass is gathered, bright As strips of shining lazulite.
Full in the centre of the shade The hermits' holy fire is laid: I see its smoke the pure heaven streak Dense as a big cloud's dusky peak.
The twice-born men their steps retrace From each sequestered bathing-place, And each his sacred gift has brought Of blossoms which his hands have sought.
Of all these signs, dear brother, each Agrees with good butikshna's speech, And doubtless in this holy bound Agastya's brother will be found.
Agastya once, the worlds who viewed With love, a Deathlike fiend subdued, And armed with mighty power, obtained By holy works, this grove ordained To be a refuge and defence From all oppressors' violence.
In days of yore within this place Two brothers tierce of demon race, Vatapi dire and llval, dwelt, And slaughter mid the Brahmans dealt.
A Brahman's form, the fiend to cloak, Fierce llval wore, and Sanskrit spoke, And twice-born sages would invite To solemnize some funeral rite.
His brother's flesh, concealed within.
A ram's false shape and borrowed skin,— As men are wont at funeral feasts, — He dressed, and fed those gathered priests.
The holy men, unweeting ill, Took of the food and ate their till.
Then llval with a mighty shout Exclaimed ' Vatapi, issue out.'
Soon as his brother's voice he heard, The fiend with ram-like bleating stirred: Rending in pieces every frame, Forth from the dying priests he came.
So they who changed their forms at will Thousands of Brahmans dared to kill,— Fierce fiends who loved each cruel deed, And joyed on bleeding flesh to feed.
Agastya, mighty hermit, pressed To funeral banquet like the rest, Obedient to the Gods' appeal Ate up the monster at a meal.
' 'Tis done, 'tis done,' fierce llval cried, And water for his hands supplied: Then lifting up his voice he spake: ' Forth, brother, from thy prison break.'
Then him who called the fiend, who long Had wrought the suffering Brahmaus wrong, Thus though tful-souled Agastya, best Of hermits, with a smile addressed: ' How, Kakshas, is the fiend empowered To issue forth whom I devoured? Thy brother in a ram's disguise Is gone where Yama's kingdom lies.'
TH& Hook HI.
When from the words Agastya said He knew his brother fiend was dead, His soul on fire with vengeful rage, Hushed the night-rover at the sage. One lightning glance of fury, hot As fire, the glorious hermit shot, As the fiend neared him in his stride, And straight, consumed to dust, he died. In pity for the Brabmans' plight Agastya wrought this deed of might: This grove which lakes and fair trees grace In his great brother's dwelling place.
As Kama thus the tale rehearsed, And with Sumatra's son conversed, The setting sun his last rays shed, And evening o'er the land was spread. A while the princely brothers stayed And even rites in order paid, Then to the holy grove they drew And hailed the saint with honour due. With courtesy was Kama met By that illustrious anchoret, And for one night he rested there Regaled with fruit and hermit fare. But when the night had reached its close, And the sun's glorious circle rose, The son of Raghu left his bed And tothe hermit's brother said: ' Well rested in thy hermit cell, I stand, 0 saint, to bid farewell; For with thy leave I journey hence Thy broher saint to reverence.' 'Go, Rama go,' the sage replied: Then from the cot the chieftain hied, And while the pleasant grove he viewed, The path the hermit showed, pursued. Of every leaf, of changing hue. Plants, trees by hundreds round him grew, With joyous eyes he looked on all, Then Jak,1 the wild rice, and Sal;2 He saw the red Hibiscus glow, He saw the flower-tipped creeper throw The glory of her clusters o'er Tall trees that loads of blossom bore. Some, elephants had prostrate laid, In some the monkeys leapt and played, And through the whole wide forest rang The charm of gay birds as they sang. Then Rama of the lotus eye To Lakshman turned who followed nigh, And thus the hero youth impressed With Fortune's favouring signs, addressed: ' How soft the leaves of every tree, How tame each bird and beast we see! Soon the fair home shall we behold Of that great hermit tranquil-souled. The deed the good Agastya wrought 1 The bread-fruit tree, Artocarpus inte- grifolia. * A fine timber tree, Shorea robusta.
High fame throughout the world has bought: I see, I see his calm retreat That balms the pain of weary feet. Where white clouds rise from flames beneath, Where bark-Coats lie with many a wreath, Where silvan things, made gentle, throng, And every bird is loud in song. With ruth for suffering creatures filled, A deathlike fiend with might he killed, And gave this southern realm to be A refuge, from oppression free. There stands his home, whose dreaded might Has put the giant crew to flight, Who view with envious eyes afar The peaceful shades they cannot mar. Since that most holy saint has made His dwelling in this lovely shade. Checked by his might the giant brood Have dwelt in peace, with souls subdued. And all this southern realm, within Whose bounds no fiend may entrance win, Now bears a name which naught may dim, Made glorious through the worlds by him. When Vindhya, best of hills, would stay The journey of the Lord of Day, Obedient to the saint's behest He bowed for aye his humbled crest. That hoary hermit, world-renowned For holy deeds, within this ground Has set'his pure and blessed home, Where gentle silvan creatures roam. Agastya, whom the worlds revere, Pure saint to whom the good are dear, To us his guests all grace will show, Enriched with blessings ere we go. I. to this aim each thought will turn, The favour of the saint to earn, That here in comfort may be spent The last years of our banishment. Here sanctities and high saints stand, Gods, minstrels of the heavenly band; Upon Agastya's will they wait, And serve him, pure and temperate. The liar's tongue, the tyrant's mind Within these bounds no home may find: No cheat, no sinner here can be: So holy and so good is he. i Here birds and lords of serpent race,