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Title: The Ramayana



Release Date: March 18, 2008 [Ebook #24869]

Language: English

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***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RAMAYANA***





                         *The RAMAYAN of VALMIKI*

                     *Translated into English Verse*

                                   *by*

                        Ralph T. H. Griffith, M.A.

                     Principal of the Benares College

                          London: Truebner & Co.

                      Benares: E. J. Lazarus and Co.

                                1870-1874





CONTENTS


Invocation.
Book I.
   Canto I. Narad.
   Canto II. Brahma's Visit
   Canto III. The Argument.
   Canto IV. The Rhapsodists.
   Canto V. Ayodhya.
   Canto VI. The King.
   Canto VII. The Ministers.
   Canto VIII. Sumantra's Speech.
   Canto IX. Rishyasring.
   Canto X. Rishyasring Invited.
   Canto XI. The Sacrifice Decreed.
   Canto XII. The Sacrifice Begun.
   Canto XIII. The Sacrifice Finished.
   Canto XIV. Ravan Doomed.
   Canto XV. The Nectar.
   Canto XVI. The Vanars.
   Canto XVII. Rishyasring's Return.
   Canto XVIII. Rishyasring's Departure.
   Canto XIX. The Birth Of The Princes.
   Canto XX. Visvamitra's Visit.
   Canto XXI. Visvamitra's Speech.
   Canto XXII. Dasaratha's Speech.
   Canto XXIII. Vasishtha's Speech.
   Canto XXIV. The Spells.
   Canto XXV. The Hermitage Of Love.
   Canto XXVI. The Forest Of Tadaka.
   Canto XXVII. The Birth Of Tadaka.
   Canto XXVIII. The Death Of Tadaka.
   Canto XXIX. The Celestial Arms.
   Canto XXX. The Mysterious Powers.
   Canto XXXI. The Perfect Hermitage.
   Canto XXXII. Visvamitra's Sacrifice.
   Canto XXXIII. The Sone.
   Canto XXXIV. Brahmadatta.
   Canto XXXV. Visvamitra's Lineage.
   Canto XXXVI. The Birth Of Ganga.
   Canto XXXIX. The Sons Of Sagar.
   Canto XL. The Cleaving Of The Earth.
   Canto XLI. Kapil.
   Canto XLII. Sagar's Sacrifice.
   Canto XLIII. Bhagirath.
   Canto XLIV. The Descent Of Ganga.
   Canto XLV. The Quest Of The Amrit.
   Canto XLVI. Diti's Hope.
   Canto XLVII. Sumati.
   Canto XLVIII. Indra And Ahalya
   Canto XLIX. Ahalya Freed.
   Canto L. Janak.
   Canto LI. Visvamitra.
   Canto LII. Vasishtha's Feast.
   Canto LIII. Visvamitra's Request.
   Canto LIV. The Battle.
   Canto LV. The Hermitage Burnt.
   Canto LVI. Visvamitra's Vow.
   Canto LVII. Trisanku.
   Canto LVIII. Trisanku Cursed.
   Canto LIX. The Sons Of Vasishtha.
   Canto LX. Trisanku's Ascension.
   Canto LXI. Sunahsepha.
   Canto LXII. Ambarisha's Sacrifice.
   Canto LXIII. Menaka.
   Canto LXIV. Rambha.
   Canto LXV. Visvamitra's Triumph
   Canto LXVI. Janak's Speech.
   Canto LXVII. The Breaking Of The Bow.
   Canto LXVIII. The Envoys' Speech.
   Canto LXIX. Dasaratha's Visit.
   Canto LXX. The Maidens Sought.
   Canto LXXI. Janak's Pedigree.
   Canto LXXII. The Gift Of Kine.
   Canto LXXIII. The Nuptials.
   Canto LXXIV. Rama With The Axe.
   Canto LXXV. The Parle.
   Canto LXXVI. Debarred From Heaven.
   Canto LXXVII. Bharat's Departure.
BOOK II.
   Canto I. The Heir Apparent.
   Canto II. The People's Speech.
   Canto III. Dasaratha's Precepts.
   Canto IV. Rama Summoned.
   Canto V. Rama's Fast.
   Canto VI. The City Decorated.
   Canto VII. Manthara's Lament.
   Canto VIII. Manthara's Speech.
   Canto IX. The Plot.
   Canto X. Dasaratha's Speech.
   Canto XI. The Queen's Demand.
   Canto XII. Dasaratha's Lament.
   Canto XIII. Dasaratha's Distress.
   Canto XIV. Rama Summoned.
   Canto XV. The Preparations.
   Canto XVI. Rama Summoned.
   Canto XVII. Rama's Approach.
   Canto XVIII. The Sentence.
   Canto XIX. Rama's Promise.
   Canto XX. Kausalya's Lament.
   Canto XXI. Kausalya Calmed.
   Canto XXII. Lakshman Calmed.
   Canto XXIII. Lakshman's Anger.
   Canto XXIV. Kausalya Calmed.
   Canto XXV. Kausalya's Blessing.
   Canto XXVI. Alone With Sita.
   Canto XXVII. Sita's Speech.
   Canto XXVIII. The Dangers Of The Wood.
   Canto XXIX. Sita's Appeal.
   Canto XXX. The Triumph Of Love.
   Canto XXXI. Lakshman's Prayer.
   Canto XXXII. The Gift Of The Treasures.
   Canto XXXIII. The People's Lament.
   Canto XXXIV. Rama In The Palace.
   Canto XXXV. Kaikeyi Reproached.
   Canto XXXVI. Siddharth's Speech.
   Canto XXXVII. The Coats Of Bark.
   Canto XXXVIII. Care For Kausalya
   Canto XXXIX. Counsel To Sita.
   Canto XL. Rama's Departure.
   Canto XLI. The Citizens' Lament.
   Canto XLII. Dasaratha's Lament.
   Canto XLIII. Kausalya's Lament.
   Canto XLIV. Sumitra's Speech.
   Canto XLV. The Tamasa.
   Canto XLVI. The Halt.
   Canto XLVII. The Citizens' Return.
   Canto XLVIII. The Women's Lament.
   Canto XLIX. The Crossing Of The Rivers.
   Canto L. The Halt Under The Ingudi.
   Canto LI. Lakshman's Lament.
   Canto LII. The Crossing Of Ganga.
   Canto LIII. Rama's Lament.
   Canto LIV. Bharadvaja's Hermitage.
   Canto LV. The Passage Of Yamuna.
   Canto LVI. Chitrakuta
   Canto LVII. Sumantra's Return.
   Canto LVIII. Rama's Message.
   Canto LIX. Dasaratha's Lament.
   Canto LX. Kausalya Consoled.
   Canto LXI. Kausalya's Lament.
   Canto LXII. Dasaratha Consoled.
   Canto LXIII. The Hermit's Son.
   Canto LXIV. Dasaratha's Death.
   Canto LXV. The Women's Lament.
   Canto LXVI. The Embalming.
   Canto LXVII. The Praise Of Kings.
   Canto LXVIII. The Envoys.
   Canto LXIX. Bharat's Dream.
   Canto LXX. Bharat's Departure.
   Canto LXXI. Bharat's Return.
   Canto LXXII. Bharat's Inquiry.
   Canto LXXIII. Kaikeyi Reproached.
   Canto LXXIV. Bharat's Lament.
   Canto LXXV. The Abjuration.
   Canto LXXVI. The Funeral.
   Canto LXXVII. The Gathering Of The Ashes.
   Canto LXXVIII. Manthara Punished.
   Canto LXXIX. Bharat's Commands.
   Canto LXXX. The Way Prepared.
   Canto LXXXI. The Assembly.
   Canto LXXXII. The Departure.
   Canto LXXXIII. The Journey Begun.
   Canto LXXXIV. Guha's Anger.
   Canto LXXXV. Guha And Bharat.
   Canto LXXXVI. Guha's Speech.
   Canto LXXXVII. Guha's Story.
   Canto LXXXVIII. The Ingudi Tree.
   Canto LXXXIX. The Passage Of Ganga.
   Canto XC. The Hermitage.
   Canto XCI. Bharadvaja's Feast.
   Canto XCII. Bharat's Farewell.
   Canto XCIII. Chitrakuta In Sight.
   Canto XCIV. Chitrakuta.
   Canto XCV. Mandakini.
   Canto XCVI. The Magic Shaft.
   Canto XCVII. Lakshman's Anger.
   Canto XCVIII. Lakshman Calmed.
   Canto XCIX. Bharat's Approach.
   Canto C. The Meeting.
   Canto CI. Bharata Questioned.
   Canto CII. Bharat's Tidings.
   Canto CIII. The Funeral Libation.
   Canto CIV. The Meeting With The Queens.
   Canto CV. Rama's Speech.
   Canto CVI. Bharat's Speech.
   Canto CVII. Rama's Speech.
   Canto CVIII. Javali's Speech.
   Canto CIX. The Praises Of Truth.
   Canto CX. The Sons Of Ikshvaku.
   Canto CXI. Counsel To Bharat.
   Canto CXII. The Sandals.
   Canto CXIII. Bharat's Return.
   Canto CXIV. Bharat's Departure.
   Canto CXV. Nandigram.
   Canto CXVI. The Hermit's Speech.
   Canto CXVII. Anasuya.
   Canto CXVIII. Anasuya's Gifts.
   Canto CXIX. The Forest.
BOOK III.
   Canto I. The Hermitage.
   Canto II. Viradha.
   Canto III. Viradha Attacked.
   Canto IV. Viradha's Death.
   Canto V. Sarabhanga.
   Canto VI. Rama's Promise.
   Canto VII. Sutikshna.
   Canto VIII. The Hermitage.
   Canto IX. Sita's Speech.
   Canto X. Rama's Reply.
   Canto XI. Agastya.
   Canto XII. The Heavenly Bow.
   Canto XIII. Agastya's Counsel.
   Canto XIV. Jatayus.
   Canto XV. Panchavati.
   Canto XVI. Winter.
   Canto XVII. Surpanakha.
   Canto XVIII. The Mutilation.
   Canto XIX. The Rousing Of Khara.
   Canto XX. The Giants' Death.
   Canto XXI. The Rousing Of Khara.
   Canto XXII. Khara's Wrath.
   Canto XXIII. The Omens.
   Canto XXIV. The Host In Sight.
   Canto XXV. The Battle.
   Canto XXVI. Dushan's Death.
   Canto XXVII. The Death Of Trisiras.
   Canto XXVIII. Khara Dismounted.
   Canto XXIX. Khara's Defeat.
   Canto XXX. Khara's Death.
   Canto XXXI. Ravan.
   Canto XXXII. Ravan Roused.
   Canto XXXIII. Surpanakha's Speech.
   Canto XXXIV. Surpanakha's Speech.
   Canto XXXV. Ravan's Journey.
   Canto XXXVI. Ravan's Speech.
   Canto XXXVII. Maricha's Speech.
   Canto XXXVIII. Maricha's Speech.
   Canto XXXIX. Maricha's Speech.
   Canto XL. Ravan's Speech.
   Canto XLI. Maricha's Reply.
   Canto XLII. Maricha Transformed.
   Canto XLIII. The Wondrous Deer.
   Canto XLIV. Maricha's Death.
   Canto XLV. Lakshman's Departure.
   Canto XLVI. The Guest.
   Canto XLVII. Ravan's Wooing.
   Canto XLVIII. Ravan's Speech.
   Canto XLIX. The Rape Of Sita.
   Canto L. Jatayus.
   Canto LI. The Combat.
   Canto LII. Ravan's Flight.
   Canto LIII. Sita's Threats.
   Canto LIV. Lanka.
   Canto LV. Sita In Prison.
   Canto LVI. Sita's Disdain.
   Canto LVII. Sita Comforted.
   Canto LVIII. The Brothers' Meeting.
   Canto LIX. Rama's Return.
   Canto LX. Lakshman Reproved.
   Canto LXI. Rama's Lament.
   Canto LXII. Rama's Lament.
   Canto LXIII. Rama's Lament.
   Canto LXIV. Rama's Lament.
   Canto LXV. Rama's Wrath.
   Canto LXVI. Lakshman's Speech.
   Canto LXVII. Rama Appeased.
   Canto LXVIII. Jatayus.
   Canto LXIX. The Death Of Jatayus.
   Canto LXX. Kabandha.
   Canto LXXI. Kabandha's Speech.
   Canto LXXII. Kabandha's Tale.
   Canto LXXIII. Kabandha's Counsel.
   Canto LXXIV. Kabandha's Death.
   Canto LXXV. Savari.
   Canto LXXVI. Pampa.
BOOK IV.
   Canto I. Rama's Lament.
   Canto II. Sugriva's Alarm.
   Canto III. Hanuman's Speech.
   Canto IV. Lakshman's Reply.
   Canto V. The League.
   Canto VI. The Tokens.
   Canto VII. Rama Consoled.
   Canto VIII. Rama's Promise.
   Canto IX. Sugriva's Story.
   Canto X. Sugriva's Story.
   Canto XI. Dundubhi.
   Canto XII. The Palm Trees.
   Canto XIII. The Return To Kishkindha.
   Canto XIV. The Challenge.
   Canto XV. Tara.
   Canto XVI. The Fall Of Bali.
   Canto XVII. Bali's Speech.
   Canto XVIII. Rama's Reply.
   Canto XIX. Tara's Grief.
   Canto XX. Tara's Lament.
   Canto XXI. Hanuman's Speech.
   Canto XXII. Bali Dead.
   Canto XXIII. Tara's Lament.
   Canto XXIV. Sugriva's Lament.
   Canto XXV. Rama's Speech.
   Canto XXVI. The Coronation.
   Canto XXVII. Rama On The Hill.
   Canto XXVIII. The Rains.
   Canto XXIX. Hanuman's Counsel.
   Canto XXX. Rama's Lament.
   Canto XXXI. The Envoy.
   Canto XXXII. Hanuman's Counsel.
   Canto XXXIII. Lakshman's Entry.
   Canto XXXIV. Lakshman's Speech.
   Canto XXXV. Tara's Speech.
   Canto XXXVI. Sugriva's Speech.
   Canto XXXVII. The Gathering.
   Canto XXXVIII. Sugriva's Departure.
   Canto XXXIX. The Vanar Host.
   Canto XL. The Army Of The East.
   Canto XLI. The Army Of The South.
   Canto XLII. The Army Of The West.
   Canto XLIII. The Army Of The North.
   Canto XLIV. The Ring.
   Canto XLV. The Departure.
   Canto XLVI. Sugriva's Tale.
   Canto XLVII. The Return.
   Canto XLVIII. The Asur's Death.
   Canto XLIX. Angad's Speech.
   Canto L. The Enchanted Cave.
   Canto LI. Svayamprabha.
   Canto LII. The Exit.
   Canto LIII. Angad's Counsel.
   Canto LIV. Hanuman's Speech.
   Canto LV. Angad's Reply.
   Canto LVI. Sampati.
   Canto LVII. Angad's Speech.
   Canto LVIII. Tidings Of Sita.
   Canto LIX. Sampati's Story.
   Canto LX. Sampati's Story.
   Canto LXI. Sampati's Story.
   Canto LXII. Sampati's Story.
   Canto LXIII. Sampati's Story.
   Canto LXIV. The Sea.
   Canto LXV. The Council.
   Canto LXVI. Hanuman.
   Canto LXVII. Hanuman's Speech.
BOOK V.
   Canto I. Hanuman's Leap.
   Canto II. Lanka.
   Canto III. The Guardian Goddess.
   Canto IV. Within The City.
   Canto VI. The Court.
   Canto VII. Ravan's Palace.
   Canto VIII. The Enchanted Car.
   Canto IX. The Ladies' Bower.
   Canto X. Ravan Asleep.
   Canto XI. The Banquet Hall.
   Canto XII. The Search Renewed.
   Canto XIII. Despair And Hope.
   Canto XIV. The Asoka Grove.
   Canto XV. Sita.
   Canto XVI. Hanuman's Lament.
   Canto XVII. Sita's Guard.
   Canto XVIII. Ravan.
   Canto XIX. Sita's Fear.
   Canto XX. Ravan's Wooing.
   Canto XXI. Sita's Scorn.
   Canto XXII. Ravan's Threat.
   Canto XXIII. The Demons' Threats.
   Canto XXIV. Sita's Reply.
   Canto XXV. Sita's Lament.
   Canto XXVI. Sita's Lament.
   Canto XXVII. Trijata's Dream.
   Canto XXX. Hanuman's Deliberation.
   Canto XXXI. Hanuman's Speech.
   Canto XXXII. Sita's Doubt.
   Canto XXXIII. The Colloquy.
   Canto XXXIV. Hanuman's Speech.
   Canto XXXV. Hanuman's Speech.
   Canto XXXVI. Rama's Ring.
   Canto XXXVII. Sita's Speech.
   Canto XXXVIII. Sita's Gem.
   Canto XLI. The Ruin Of The Grove.
   Canto XLII. The Giants Roused.
   Canto XLIII. The Ruin Of The Temple.
   Canto XLIV. Jambumali's Death.
   Canto XLV. The Seven Defeated.
   Canto XLVI. The Captains.
   Canto XLVII. The Death Of Aksha.
   Canto XLVIII. Hanuman Captured.
   Canto XLIX. Ravan.
   Canto L. Prahasta's Questions.
   Canto LI. Hanuman's Reply.
   Canto LII. Vibhishan's Speech.
   Canto LIII. The Punishment.
   Canto LIV. The Burning Of Lanka.
   Canto LV. Fear For Sita.
   Canto LVI. Mount Arishta.
   Canto LVII. Hanuman's Return.
   Canto LVIII. The Feast Of Honey.
   Canto LXV. The Tidings.
   Canto LXVI. Rama's Speech.
BOOK VI.
   Canto I. Rama's Speech.
   Canto II. Sugriva's Speech.
   Canto III. Lanka.
   Canto IV. The March.
   Canto V. Rama's Lament.
   Canto VI. Ravan's Speech.
   Canto VII. Ravan Encouraged.
   Canto VIII. Prahasta's Speech.
   Canto IX. Vibhishan's Counsel.
   Canto X. Vibhishan's Counsel.
   Canto XI. The Summons.
   Canto XII. Ravan's Speech.
   Canto XIII. Ravan's Speech.
   Canto XIV. Vibhishan's Speech.
   Canto XV. Indrajit's Speech.
   Canto XVI. Ravan's Speech.
   Canto XVII. Vibhishan's Flight.
   Canto XVIII. Rama's Speech.
   Canto XIX. Vibhishan's Counsel.
   Canto XX. The Spies.
   Canto XXI. Ocean Threatened.
   Canto XXII. Ocean Threatened.
   Canto XXIII. The Omens.
   Canto XXIV. The Spy's Return.
   Canto XXV. Ravan's Spies.
   Canto XXVI. The Vanar Chiefs.
   Canto XXVII. The Vanar Chiefs.
   Canto XXVIII. The Chieftains.
   Canto XXIX. Sardula Captured.
   Canto XXX. Sardula's Speech.
   Canto XXXI. The Magic Head.
   Canto XXXII. Sita's Lament.
   Canto XXXIII. Sarama.
   Canto XXXIV. Sarama's Tidings.
   Canto XXXV. Malyavan's Speech.
   Canto XXXVI. Ravan's Reply.
   Canto XXXVII. Preparations.
   Canto XXXVIII. The Ascent Of Suvela.
   Canto XXXIX. Lanka.
   Canto XL. Ravan Attacked.
   Canto XLI. Rama's Envoy.
   Canto XLII. The Sally.
   Canto XLIII. The Single Combats.
   Canto XLIV. The Night.
   Canto XLV. Indrajit's Victory.
   Canto XLVI. Indrajit's Triumph.
   Canto XLVII. Sita.
   Canto XLVIII. Sita's Lament.
   Canto XLIX. Rama's Lament.
   Canto L. The Broken Spell.
   Canto LI. Dhumraksha's Sally.
   Canto LII. Dhumraksha's Death.
   Canto LIII. Vajradanshtra's Sally.
   Canto LIV. Vajradanshtra's Death.
   Canto LIX. Ravan's Sally.
   Canto LX. Kumbhakarna Roused.
   Canto LXI. The Vanars' Alarm.
   Canto LXII. Ravan's Request.
   Canto LXIII. Kumbhakarna's Boast.
   Canto LXIV. Mahodar's Speech.
   Canto LXV. Kumbhakarna's Speech.
   Canto LXVI. Kumbhakarna's Sally.
   Canto LXVII. Kumbhakarna's Death.
   Canto LXVIII. Ravan's Lament.
   Canto LXIX. Narantak's Death.
   Canto LXX. The Death Of Trisiras.
   Canto LXXI. Atikaya's Death.
   Canto LXXII. Ravan's Speech.
   Canto LXXIII. Indrajit's Victory.
   Canto LXXIV. The Medicinal Herbs.
   Canto LXXV. The Night Attack.
   Canto XCIII. Ravan's Lament.
   Canto XCVI. Ravan's Sally.
   Canto C. Ravan In The Field.
   Canto CI. Lakshman's Fall.
   Canto CII. Lakshman Healed.
   Canto CIII. Indra's Car.
   Canto CVI. Glory To The Sun.
   Canto CVIII. The Battle.
   Canto CIX. The Battle.
   Canto CX. Ravan's Death.
   Canto CXI. Vibhishan's Lament.
   Canto CXII. The Rakshas Dames.
   Canto CXIII. Mandodari's Lament.
   Canto CXIV. Vibhishan Consecrated.
   Canto CXV. Sita's Joy.
   Canto CXVI. The Meeting.
   Canto CXVII. Sita's Disgrace.
   Canto CXVIII. Sita's Reply.
   Canto CXIX. Glory To Vishnu.
   Canto CXX. Sita Restored.
   Canto CXXI. Dasaratha.
   Canto CXXII. Indra's Boon.
   Canto CXXIII. The Magic Car.
   Canto CXXIV. The Departure.
   Canto CXXV. The Return.
   Canto CXXVI. Bharat Consoled.
   Canto CXXVII. Rama's Message.
   Canto CXXVIII. Hanuman's Story.
   Canto CXXIX. The Meeting With Bharat.
   Canto CXXX. The Consecration.
APPENDIX.
   Section XIII. Ravan Doomed.
   Caput XIV. RATIO NECANDI RAVANAE EXCOGITATA.
   Caput XIV. IL MEZZO STABILITO PER UCCIDERE RAVANO.
   XIV.
   Uttarakanda.
ADDITIONAL NOTES.
   Queen Fortune.
   Indra.
   Vishnu.
   Siva.
   Apsarases.
   Vishnu's Incarnation As Rama.
   Kusa and Lava.
   Parasurama, Page 87.
   Yama, Page 68.
   Fate, Page 68.
   Visvamitra, Page 76.
   Household Gods, Page 102.
   Page 107.
   Page 108.
   Page 109.
   Page 110.
   Page 120.
   Page 125.
   Page 125.
   Page 136.
   Page 152.
   Page 157.
   Page 161.
   Page 169.
   Page 174. The Praise Of Kings
   Page 176. Salmali.
   Page 178. Bharat's Return.
   Page 183.
   Page 203.
   Page 219.
   Page 249.
   Page 250.
   Page 257.
   Page 286. Urvasi.
   Page 324.
   Page 326.
   Page 329. Rama's Alliance With Sugriva.
   Page 342. The Fall Of Bali.
   Page 370. The Vanar Host.
   Page 372.
   Page 374.
   Page 378. Northern Kurus.
   Page 428.
   Page 431.
   Page 434.
   Page 436.
   Page 452.
   Page 462.
   Page 466.
   Page 470.
   Page 497.
   Page 489.
   Page 489.
   Page 492. Ravan's Funeral.
   Page 496.
   Page 503. The Meeting.
   Final Notes.
INDEX OF PRINCIPAL NAMES
Footnotes






INVOCATION.(1)


Praise to Valmiki,(2)bird of charming song,(3)
  Who mounts on Poesy's sublimest spray,
And sweetly sings with accent clear and strong
  Rama, aye Rama, in his deathless lay.

Where breathes the man can listen to the strain
  That flows in music from Valmiki's tongue,
Nor feel his feet the path of bliss attain
  When Rama's glory by the saint is sung!

The stream Ramayan leaves its sacred fount
  The whole wide world from sin and stain to free.(4)
The Prince of Hermits is the parent mount,
  The lordly Rama is the darling sea.

Glory to him whose fame is ever bright!
  Glory to him, Prachetas'(5)holy son!
Whose pure lips quaff with ever new delight
  The nectar-sea of deeds by Rama done.

Hail, arch-ascetic, pious, good, and kind!
  Hail, Saint Valmiki, lord of every lore!
Hail, holy Hermit, calm and pure of mind!
  Hail, First of Bards, Valmiki, hail once more!





BOOK I.(6)




Canto I. Narad.(7)


OM.(8)

  To sainted Narad, prince of those
Whose lore in words of wisdom flows.
Whose constant care and chief delight
Were Scripture and ascetic rite,
The good Valmiki, first and best
Of hermit saints, these words addressed:(9)
"In all this world, I pray thee, who
Is virtuous, heroic, true?
Firm in his vows, of grateful mind,
To every creature good and kind?
Bounteous, and holy, just, and wise,
Alone most fair to all men's eyes?
Devoid of envy, firm, and sage,
Whose tranquil soul ne'er yields to rage?
Whom, when his warrior wrath is high,
Do Gods embattled fear and fly?
Whose noble might and gentle skill
The triple world can guard from ill?
Who is the best of princes, he
Who loves his people's good to see?
The store of bliss, the living mine
Where brightest joys and virtues shine?
Queen Fortune's(10) best and dearest friend,
Whose steps her choicest gifts attend?
Who may with Sun and Moon compare,
With Indra,(11) Vishnu,(12) Fire, and Air?
Grant, Saint divine,(13) the boon I ask,
For thee, I ween, an easy task,
To whom the power is given to know
If such a man breathe here below."
Then Narad, clear before whose eye
The present, past, and future lie,(14)
Made ready answer: "Hermit, where
Are graces found so high and rare?
Yet listen, and my tongue shall tell
In whom alone these virtues dwell.
From old Ikshvaku's(15) line he came,
Known to the world by Rama's name:
With soul subdued, a chief of might,
In Scripture versed, in glory bright,
His steps in virtue's paths are bent,
Obedient, pure, and eloquent.
In each emprise he wins success,
And dying foes his power confess.
Tall and broad-shouldered, strong of limb,
Fortune has set her mark on him.
Graced with a conch-shell's triple line,
His throat displays the auspicious sign.(16)
High destiny is clear impressed
On massive jaw and ample chest,
His mighty shafts he truly aims,
And foemen in the battle tames.
Deep in the muscle, scarcely shown,
Embedded lies his collar-bone.
His lordly steps are firm and free,
His strong arms reach below his knee;(17)
All fairest graces join to deck
His head, his brow, his stately neck,
And limbs in fair proportion set:
The manliest form e'er fashioned yet.
Graced with each high imperial mark,
His skin is soft and lustrous dark.
Large are his eyes that sweetly shine
With majesty almost divine.
His plighted word he ne'er forgets;
On erring sense a watch he sets.
By nature wise, his teacher's skill
Has trained him to subdue his will.
Good, resolute and pure, and strong,
He guards mankind from scathe and wrong,
And lends his aid, and ne'er in vain,
The cause of justice to maintain.
Well has he studied o'er and o'er
The Vedas(18)and their kindred lore.
Well skilled is he the bow to draw,(19)
Well trained in arts and versed in law;
High-souled and meet for happy fate,
Most tender and compassionate;
The noblest of all lordly givers,
Whom good men follow, as the rivers
Follow the King of Floods, the sea:
So liberal, so just is he.
The joy of Queen Kausalya's(20)heart,
In every virtue he has part:
Firm as Himalaya's(21) snowy steep,
Unfathomed like the mighty deep:
The peer of Vishnu's power and might,
And lovely as the Lord of Night;(22)
Patient as Earth, but, roused to ire,
Fierce as the world-destroying fire;
In bounty like the Lord of Gold,(23)
And Justice self in human mould.

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

  By chains of duty firmly tied,
The wretched king perforce complied.
Rama, to please Kaikeyi went
Obedient forth to banishment.
Then Lakshman's truth was nobly shown,
Then were his love and courage known,
When for his brother's sake he dared
All perils, and his exile shared.
And Sita, Rama's darling wife,
Loved even as he loved his life,
Whom happy marks combined to bless,
A miracle of loveliness,
Of Janak's royal lineage sprung,
Most excellent of women, clung
To her dear lord, like Rohini
Rejoicing with the Moon to be.(25)
The King and people, sad of mood,
The hero's car awhile pursued.
But when Prince Rama lighted down
At Sringavera's pleasant town,
Where Ganga's holy waters flow,
He bade his driver turn and go.
Guha, Nishadas' king, he met,
And on the farther bank was set.
Then on from wood to wood they strayed,
O'er many a stream, through constant shade,
As Bharadvaja bade them, till
They came to Chitrakuta's hill.
And Rama there, with Lakshman's aid,
A pleasant little cottage made,
And spent his days with Sita, dressed
In coat of bark and deerskin vest.(26)
And Chitrakuta grew to be
As bright with those illustrious three
As Meru's(27) sacred peaks that shine
With glory, when the Gods recline
Beneath them: Siva's(28) self between
The Lord of Gold and Beauty's Queen.

  The aged king for Rama pined,
And for the skies the earth resigned.
Bharat, his son, refused to reign,
Though urged by all the twice-born(29) train.
Forth to the woods he fared to meet
His brother, fell before his feet,
And cried, "Thy claim all men allow:
O come, our lord and king be thou."
But Rama nobly chose to be
Observant of his sire's decree.
He placed his sandals(30) in his hand
A pledge that he would rule the land:
And bade his brother turn again.
Then Bharat, finding prayer was vain,
The sandals took and went away;
Nor in Ayodhya would he stay.
But turned to Nandigrama, where
He ruled the realm with watchful care,
Still longing eagerly to learn
Tidings of Rama's safe return.

  Then lest the people should repeat
Their visit to his calm retreat,
Away from Chitrakuta's hill
Fared Rama ever onward till
Beneath the shady trees he stood
Of Dandaka's primeval wood,
Viradha, giant fiend, he slew,
And then Agastya's friendship knew.
Counselled by him he gained the sword
And bow of Indra, heavenly lord:
A pair of quivers too, that bore
Of arrows an exhaustless store.
While there he dwelt in greenwood shade
The trembling hermits sought his aid,
And bade him with his sword and bow
Destroy the fiends who worked them woe:
To come like Indra strong and brave,
A guardian God to help and save.
And Rama's falchion left its trace
Deep cut on Surpanakha's face:
A hideous giantess who came
Burning for him with lawless flame.
Their sister's cries the giants heard.
And vengeance in each bosom stirred:
The monster of the triple head.
And Dushan to the contest sped.
But they and myriad fiends beside
Beneath the might of Rama died.

  When Ravan, dreaded warrior, knew
The slaughter of his giant crew:
Ravan, the king, whose name of fear
Earth, hell, and heaven all shook to hear:
He bade the fiend Maricha aid
The vengeful plot his fury laid.
In vain the wise Maricha tried
To turn him from his course aside:
Not Ravan's self, he said, might hope
With Rama and his strength to cope.
Impelled by fate and blind with rage
He came to Rama's hermitage.
There, by Maricha's magic art,
He wiled the princely youths apart,
The vulture(31) slew, and bore away
The wife of Rama as his prey.
The son of Raghu(32) came and found
Jatayu slain upon the ground.
He rushed within his leafy cot;
He sought his wife, but found her not.
Then, then the hero's senses failed;
In mad despair he wept and wailed.
Upon the pile that bird he laid,
And still in quest of Sita strayed.
A hideous giant then he saw,
Kabandha named, a shape of awe.
The monstrous fiend he smote and slew,
And in the flame the body threw;
When straight from out the funeral flame
In lovely form Kabandha came,
And bade him seek in his distress
A wise and holy hermitess.
By counsel of this saintly dame
To Pampa's pleasant flood he came,
And there the steadfast friendship won
Of Hanuman the Wind-God's son.
Counselled by him he told his grief
To great Sugriva, Vanar chief,
Who, knowing all the tale, before
The sacred flame alliance swore.
Sugriva to his new-found friend
Told his own story to the end:
His hate of Bali for the wrong
And insult he had borne so long.
And Rama lent a willing ear
And promised to allay his fear.
Sugriva warned him of the might
Of Bali, matchless in the fight,
And, credence for his tale to gain,
Showed the huge fiend(33) by Bali slain.
The prostrate corse of mountain size
Seemed nothing in the hero's eyes;
He lightly kicked it, as it lay,
And cast it twenty leagues(34) away.
To prove his might his arrows through
Seven palms in line, uninjured, flew.
He cleft a mighty hill apart,
And down to hell he hurled his dart.
Then high Sugriva's spirit rose,
Assured of conquest o'er his foes.
With his new champion by his side
To vast Kishkindha's cave he hied.
Then, summoned by his awful shout,
King Bali came in fury out,
First comforted his trembling wife,
Then sought Sugriva in the strife.
One shaft from Rama's deadly bow
The monarch in the dust laid low.
Then Rama bade Sugriva reign
In place of royal Bali slain.
Then speedy envoys hurried forth
Eastward and westward, south and north,
Commanded by the grateful king
Tidings of Rama's spouse to bring.

  Then by Sampati's counsel led,
Brave Hanuman, who mocked at dread,
Sprang at one wild tremendous leap
Two hundred leagues across the deep.
To Lanka's(35) town he urged his way,
Where Ravan held his royal sway.
There pensive 'neath Asoka(36) boughs
He found poor Sita, Rama's spouse.
He gave the hapless girl a ring,
A token from her lord and king.
A pledge from her fair hand he bore;
Then battered down the garden door.
Five captains of the host he slew,
Seven sons of councillors o'erthrew;
Crushed youthful Aksha on the field,
Then to his captors chose to yield.
Soon from their bonds his limbs were free,
But honouring the high decree
Which Brahma(37) had pronounced of yore,
He calmly all their insults bore.
The town he burnt with hostile flame,
And spoke again with Rama's dame,
Then swiftly back to Rama flew
With tidings of the interview.

  Then with Sugriva for his guide,
Came Rama to the ocean side.
He smote the sea with shafts as bright
As sunbeams in their summer height,
And quick appeared the Rivers' King(38)
Obedient to the summoning.
A bridge was thrown by Nala o'er
The narrow sea from shore to shore.(39)
They crossed to Lanka's golden town,
Where Rama's hand smote Ravan down.
Vibhishan there was left to reign
Over his brother's wide domain.
To meet her husband Sita came;
But Rama, stung with ire and shame,
With bitter words his wife addressed
Before the crowd that round her pressed.
But Sita, touched with noble ire,
Gave her fair body to the fire.
Then straight the God of Wind appeared,
And words from heaven her honour cleared.
And Rama clasped his wife again,
Uninjured, pure from spot and stain,
Obedient to the Lord of Fire
And the high mandate of his sire.
Led by the Lord who rules the sky,
The Gods and heavenly saints drew nigh,
And honoured him with worthy meed,
Rejoicing in each glorious deed.
His task achieved, his foe removed,
He triumphed, by the Gods approved.
By grace of Heaven he raised to life
The chieftains slain in mortal strife;
Then in the magic chariot through
The clouds to Nandigrama flew.
Met by his faithful brothers there,
He loosed his votive coil of hair:
Thence fair Ayodhya's town he gained,
And o'er his father's kingdom reigned.
Disease or famine ne'er oppressed
His happy people, richly blest
With all the joys of ample wealth,
Of sweet content and perfect health.
No widow mourned her well-loved mate,
No sire his son's untimely fate.
They feared not storm or robber's hand;
No fire or flood laid waste the land:
The Golden Age(40) had come again
To bless the days of Rama's reign.

  From him, the great and glorious king,
Shall many a princely scion spring.
And he shall rule, beloved by men,
Ten thousand years and hundreds ten,(41)
And when his life on earth is past
To Brahma's world shall go at last."

  Whoe'er this noble poem reads
That tells the tale of Rama's deeds,
Good as the Scriptures, he shall be
From every sin and blemish free.
Whoever reads the saving strain,
With all his kin the heavens shall gain.
Brahmans who read shall gather hence
The highest praise for eloquence.
The warrior, o'er the land shall reign,
The merchant, luck in trade obtain;
And Sudras listening(42) ne'er shall fail
To reap advantage from the tale.(43)




Canto II. Brahma's Visit


Valmiki, graceful speaker, heard,
To highest admiration stirred.
To him whose fame the tale rehearsed
He paid his mental worship first;
Then with his pupil humbly bent
Before the saint most eloquent.
Thus honoured and dismissed the seer
Departed to his heavenly sphere.
Then from his cot Valmiki hied
To Tamasa's(44) sequestered side,
Not far remote from Ganga's tide.
He stood and saw the ripples roll
Pellucid o'er a pebbly shoal.
To Bharadvaja(45) by his side
He turned in ecstasy, and cried:
"See, pupil dear, this lovely sight,
The smooth-floored shallow, pure and bright,
With not a speck or shade to mar,
And clear as good men's bosoms are.
Here on the brink thy pitcher lay,
And bring my zone of bark, I pray.
Here will I bathe: the rill has not,
To lave the limbs, a fairer spot.
Do quickly as I bid, nor waste
The precious time; away, and haste."

  Obedient to his master's hest
Quick from the cot he brought the vest;
The hermit took it from his hand,
And tightened round his waist the band;
Then duly dipped and bathed him there,
And muttered low his secret prayer.
To spirits and to Gods he made
Libation of the stream, and strayed
Viewing the forest deep and wide
That spread its shade on every side.
Close by the bank he saw a pair
Of curlews sporting fearless there.
But suddenly with evil mind
An outcast fowler stole behind,
And, with an aim too sure and true,
The male bird near the hermit slew.
The wretched hen in wild despair
With fluttering pinions beat the air,
And shrieked a long and bitter cry
When low on earth she saw him lie,
Her loved companion, quivering, dead,
His dear wings with his lifeblood red;
And for her golden crested mate
She mourned, and was disconsolate.

  The hermit saw the slaughtered bird,
And all his heart with ruth was stirred.
The fowler's impious deed distressed
His gentle sympathetic breast,
And while the curlew's sad cries rang
Within his ears, the hermit sang:
"No fame be thine for endless time,
Because, base outcast, of thy crime,
Whose cruel hand was fain to slay
One of this gentle pair at play!"
E'en as he spoke his bosom wrought
And laboured with the wondering thought
What was the speech his ready tongue
Had uttered when his heart was wrung.
He pondered long upon the speech,
Recalled the words and measured each,
And thus exclaimed the saintly guide
To Bharadvaja by his side:
"With equal lines of even feet,
With rhythm and time and tone complete,
The measured form of words I spoke
In shock of grief be termed a sloke."(46)
And Bharadvaja, nothing slow
His faithful love and zeal to show,
Answered those words of wisdom, "Be
The name, my lord, as pleases thee."

  As rules prescribe the hermit took
Some lustral water from the brook.
But still on this his constant thought
Kept brooding, as his home he sought;
While Bharadvaja paced behind,
A pupil sage of lowly mind,
And in his hand a pitcher bore
With pure fresh water brimming o'er.
Soon as they reached their calm retreat
The holy hermit took his seat;
His mind from worldly cares recalled,
And mused in deepest thought enthralled.

  Then glorious Brahma,(47) Lord Most High,
Creator of the earth and sky,
The four-faced God, to meet the sage
Came to Valmiki's hermitage.
Soon as the mighty God he saw,
Up sprang the saint in wondering awe.
Mute, with clasped hands, his head he bent,
And stood before him reverent.
His honoured guest he greeted well,
Who bade him of his welfare tell;
Gave water for his blessed feet,
Brought offerings,(48) and prepared a seat.
In honoured place the God Most High
Sate down, and bade the saint sit nigh.
There sate before Valmiki's eyes
The Father of the earth and skies;
But still the hermit's thoughts were bent
On one thing only, all intent
On that poor curlew's mournful fate
Lamenting for her slaughtered mate;
And still his lips, in absent mood,
The verse that told his grief, renewed:
"Woe to the fowler's impious hand
That did the deed that folly planned;
That could to needless death devote
The curlew of the tuneful throat!"

  The heavenly Father smiled in glee,
And said, "O best of hermits, see,
A verse, unconscious, thou hast made;
No longer be the task delayed.
Seek not to trace, with labour vain,
The unpremeditated strain.
The tuneful lines thy lips rehearsed
Spontaneous from thy bosom burst.
Then come, O best of seers, relate
The life of Rama good and great,
The tale that saintly Narad told,
In all its glorious length unfold.
Of all the deeds his arm has done
Upon this earth, omit not one,
And thus the noble life record
Of that wise, brave, and virtuous lord.
His every act to day displayed,
His secret life to none betrayed:
How Lakshman, how the giants fought;
With high emprise and hidden thought:
And all that Janak's child(49) befell
Where all could see, where none could tell.
The whole of this shall truly be
Made known, O best of saints, to thee.
In all thy poem, through my grace,
No word of falsehood shall have place.
Begin the story, and rehearse
The tale divine in charming verse.
As long as in this firm-set land
The streams shall flow, the mountains stand,
So long throughout the world, be sure,
The great Ramayan shall endure.(50)
While the Ramayan's ancient strain
Shall glorious in the earth remain,
To higher spheres shalt thou arise
And dwell with me above the skies."

  He spoke, and vanished into air,
And left Valmiki wondering there.
The pupils of the holy man,
Moved by their love of him, began
To chant that verse, and ever more
They marvelled as they sang it o'er:
"Behold, the four-lined balanced rime,
Repeated over many a time,
In words that from the hermit broke
In shock of grief, becomes a sloke."
This measure now Valmiki chose
Wherein his story to compose.
In hundreds of such verses, sweet
With equal lines and even feet,
The saintly poet, lofty-souled,
The glorious deeds of Rama told.




Canto III. The Argument.


The hermit thus with watchful heed
Received the poem's pregnant seed,
And looked with eager thought around
If fuller knowledge might be found.
His lips with water first bedewed,(51)
He sate, in reverent attitude
On holy grass,(52) the points all bent
Together toward the orient;(53)
And thus in meditation he
Entered the path of poesy.
Then clearly, through his virtue's might,
All lay discovered to his sight,
Whate'er befell, through all their life,
Rama, his brother, and his wife:
And Dasaratha and each queen
At every time, in every scene:
His people too, of every sort;
The nobles of his princely court:
Whate'er was said, whate'er decreed,
Each time they sate each plan and deed:
For holy thought and fervent rite
Had so refined his keener sight
That by his sanctity his view
The present, past, and future knew,
And he with mental eye could grasp,
Like fruit within his fingers clasp,
The life of Rama, great and good,
Roaming with Sita in the wood.
He told, with secret-piercing eyes,
The tale of Rama's high emprise,
Each listening ear that shall entice,
A sea of pearls of highest price.
Thus good Valmiki, sage divine,
Rehearsed the tale of Raghu's line,
As Narad, heavenly saint, before
Had traced the story's outline o'er.
He sang of Rama's princely birth,
His kindness and heroic worth;
His love for all, his patient youth,
His gentleness and constant truth,
And many a tale and legend old
By holy Visvamitra told.
How Janak's child he wooed and won,
And broke the bow that bent to none.
How he with every virtue fraught
His namesake Rama(54) met and fought.
The choice of Rama for the throne;
The malice by Kaikeyi shown,
Whose evil counsel marred the plan
And drove him forth a banisht man.
How the king grieved and groaned, and cried,
And swooned away and pining died.
The subjects' woe when thus bereft;
And how the following crowds he left:
With Guha talked, and firmly stern
Ordered his driver to return.
How Ganga's farther shore he gained;
By Bharadvaja entertained,
By whose advice he journeyed still
And came to Chitrakuta's hill.
How there he dwelt and built a cot;
How Bharat journeyed to the spot;
His earnest supplication made;
Drink-offerings to their father paid;
The sandals given by Rama's hand,
As emblems of his right, to stand:
How from his presence Bharat went
And years in Nandigrama spent.
How Rama entered Dandak wood
And in Sutikhna's presence stood.
The favour Anasuya showed,
The wondrous balsam she bestowed.
How Sarabhanga's dwelling-place
They sought; saw Indra face to face;
The meeting with Agastya gained;
The heavenly bow from him obtained.
How Rama with Viradha met;
Their home in Panchavata set.
How Surpanakha underwent
The mockery and disfigurement.
Of Trisira's and Khara's fall,
Of Ravan roused at vengeance call,
Maricha doomed, without escape;
The fair Videhan(55) lady's rape.
How Rama wept and raved in vain,
And how the Vulture-king was slain.
How Rama fierce Kabandha slew;
Then to the side of Pampa drew,
Met Hanuman, and her whose vows
Were kept beneath the greenwood boughs.
How Raghu's son, the lofty-souled,
On Pampa's bank wept uncontrolled,
Then journeyed, Rishyamuk to reach,
And of Sugriva then had speech.
The friendship made, which both had sought:
How Bali and Sugriva fought.
How Bali in the strife was slain,
And how Sugriva came to reign.
The treaty, Tara's wild lament;
The rainy nights in watching spent.
The wrath of Raghu's lion son;
The gathering of the hosts in one.
The sending of the spies about,
And all the regions pointed out.
The ring by Rama's hand bestowed;
The cave wherein the bear abode.
The fast proposed, their lives to end;
Sampati gained to be their friend.
The scaling of the hill, the leap
Of Hanuman across the deep.
Ocean's command that bade them seek
Mainaka of the lofty peak.
The death of Sinhika, the sight
Of Lanka with her palace bright
How Hanuman stole in at eve;
His plan the giants to deceive.
How through the square he made his way
To chambers where the women lay,
Within the Asoka garden came
And there found Rama's captive dame.
His colloquy with her he sought,
And giving of the ring he brought.
How Sita gave a gem o'erjoyed;
How Hanuman the grove destroyed.
How giantesses trembling fled,
And servant fiends were smitten dead.
How Hanuman was seized; their ire
When Lanka blazed with hostile fire.
His leap across the sea once more;
The eating of the honey store.
How Rama he consoled, and how
He showed the gem from Sita's brow.
With Ocean, Rama's interview;
The bridge that Nala o'er it threw.
The crossing, and the sitting down
At night round Lanka's royal town.
The treaty with Vibhishan made:
The plan for Ravan's slaughter laid.
How Kumbhakarna in his pride
And Meghanada fought and died.
How Ravan in the fight was slain,
And captive Sita brought again.
Vibhishan set upon the throne;
The flying chariot Pushpak shown.
How Brahma and the Gods appeared,
And Sita's doubted honour cleared.
How in the flying car they rode
To Bharadvaja's cabin abode.
The Wind-God's son sent on afar;
How Bharat met the flying car.
How Rama then was king ordained;
The legions their discharge obtained.
How Rama cast his queen away;
How grew the people's love each day.
Thus did the saint Valmiki tell
Whate'er in Rama's life befell,
And in the closing verses all
That yet to come will once befall.




Canto IV. The Rhapsodists.


When to the end the tale was brought,
Rose in the sage's mind the thought;
"Now who throughout this earth will go,
And tell it forth that all may know?"
As thus he mused with anxious breast,
Behold, in hermit's raiment dressed,
Kusa and Lava(56) came to greet
Their master and embrace his feet.
The twins he saw, that princely pair
Sweet-voiced, who dwelt beside him there
None for the task could be more fit,
For skilled were they in Holy Writ;
And so the great Ramayan, fraught
With lore divine, to these he taught:
The lay whose verses sweet and clear
Take with delight the listening ear,
That tell of Sita's noble life
And Ravan's fall in battle strife.
Great joy to all who hear they bring,
Sweet to recite and sweet to sing.
For music's sevenfold notes are there,
And triple measure,(57) wrought with care
With melody and tone and time,
And flavours(58) that enhance the rime;
Heroic might has ample place,
And loathing of the false and base,
With anger, mirth, and terror, blent
With tenderness, surprise, content.
When, half the hermit's grace to gain,
And half because they loved the strain,
The youth within their hearts had stored
The poem that his lips outpoured,
Valmiki kissed them on the head,
As at his feet they bowed, and said;
"Recite ye this heroic song
In tranquil shades where sages throng:
Recite it where the good resort,
In lowly home and royal court."

  The hermit ceased. The tuneful pair,
Like heavenly minstrels sweet and fair,
In music's art divinely skilled,
Their saintly master's word fulfilled.
Like Rama's self, from whom they came,
They showed their sire in face and frame,
As though from some fair sculptured stone
Two selfsame images had grown.
Sometimes the pair rose up to sing,
Surrounded by a holy ring,
Where seated on the grass had met
Full many a musing anchoret.
Then tears bedimmed those gentle eyes,
As transport took them and surprise,
And as they listened every one
Cried in delight, Well done! Well done!
Those sages versed in holy lore
Praised the sweet minstrels more and more:
And wondered at the singers' skill,
And the bard's verses sweeter still,
Which laid so clear before the eye
The glorious deeds of days gone by.
Thus by the virtuous hermits praised,
Inspirited their voice they raised.
Pleased with the song this holy man
Would give the youths a water-can;
One gave a fair ascetic dress,
Or sweet fruit from the wilderness.
One saint a black-deer's hide would bring,
And one a sacrificial string:
One, a clay pitcher from his hoard,
And one, a twisted munja cord.(59)
One in his joy an axe would find,
One braid, their plaited locks to bind.
One gave a sacrificial cup,
One rope to tie their fagots up;
While fuel at their feet was laid,
Or hermit's stool of fig-tree made.
All gave, or if they gave not, none
Forgot at least a benison.
Some saints, delighted with their lays,
Would promise health and length of days;
Others with surest words would add
Some boon to make their spirit glad.
In such degree of honour then
That song was held by holy men:
That living song which life can give,
By which shall many a minstrel live.
In seat of kings, in crowded hall,
They sang the poem, praised of all.
And Rama chanced to hear their lay,
While he the votive steed(60) would slay,
And sent fit messengers to bring
The minstrel pair before the king.
They came, and found the monarch high
Enthroned in gold, his brothers nigh;
While many a minister below,
And noble, sate in lengthened row.
The youthful pair awhile he viewed
Graceful in modest attitude,
And then in words like these addressed
His brother Lakshman and the rest:
"Come, listen to the wondrous strain
Recited by these godlike twain,
Sweet singers of a story fraught
With melody and lofty thought."

  The pair, with voices sweet and strong,
Rolled the full tide of noble song,
With tone and accent deftly blent
To suit the changing argument.
Mid that assembly loud and clear
Rang forth that lay so sweet to hear,
That universal rapture stole
Through each man's frame and heart and soul.
"These minstrels, blest with every sign
That marks a high and princely line,
  In holy shades who dwell,
Enshrined in Saint Valmiki's lay,
A monument to live for aye,
  My deeds in song shall tell."
Thus Rama spoke: their breasts were fired,
And the great tale, as if inspired,
  The youths began to sing,
While every heart with transport swelled,
And mute and rapt attention held
  The concourse and the king.




Canto V. Ayodhya.


  "Ikshvaku's sons from days of old
Were ever brave and mighty-souled.
The land their arms had made their own
Was bounded by the sea alone.
Their holy works have won them praise,
Through countless years, from Manu's days.
Their ancient sire was Sagar, he
Whose high command dug out the sea:(61)
With sixty thousand sons to throng
Around him as he marched along.
From them this glorious tale proceeds:
The great Ramayan tells their deeds.
This noble song whose lines contain
Lessons of duty, love, and gain,
We two will now at length recite,
While good men listen with delight.

  On Sarju's(62) bank, of ample size,
The happy realm of Kosal lies,
With fertile length of fair champaign
And flocks and herds and wealth of grain.
There, famous in her old renown,
Ayodhya(63) stands, the royal town,
In bygone ages built and planned
By sainted Manu's(64) princely hand.
Imperial seat! her walls extend
Twelve measured leagues from end to end,
And three in width from side to side,
With square and palace beautified.
Her gates at even distance stand;
Her ample roads are wisely planned.
Right glorious is her royal street
Where streams allay the dust and heat.
On level ground in even row
Her houses rise in goodly show:
Terrace and palace, arch and gate
The queenly city decorate.
High are her ramparts, strong and vast,
By ways at even distance passed,
With circling moat, both deep and wide,
And store of weapons fortified.

  King Dasaratha, lofty-souled,
That city guarded and controlled,
With towering Sal trees belted round,(65)
And many a grove and pleasure ground,
As royal Indra, throned on high,
Rules his fair city in the sky.(66)
She seems a painted city, fair
With chess-board line and even square.(67)
And cool boughs shade the lovely lake
Where weary men their thirst may slake.
There gilded chariots gleam and shine,
And stately piles the Gods enshrine.
There gay sleek people ever throng
To festival and dance and song.
A mine is she of gems and sheen,
The darling home of Fortune's Queen.
With noblest sort of drink and meat,
The fairest rice and golden wheat,
And fragrant with the chaplet's scent
With holy oil and incense blent.
With many an elephant and steed,
And wains for draught and cars for speed.
With envoys sent by distant kings,
And merchants with their precious things
With banners o'er her roofs that play,
And weapons that a hundred slay;(68)
All warlike engines framed by man,
And every class of artisan.
A city rich beyond compare
With bards and minstrels gathered there,
And men and damsels who entrance
The soul with play and song and dance.
In every street is heard the lute,
The drum, the tabret, and the flute,
The Veda chanted soft and low,
The ringing of the archer's bow;
With bands of godlike heroes skilled
In every warlike weapon, filled,
And kept by warriors from the foe,
As Nagas guard their home below.(69)
There wisest Brahmans evermore
  The flame of worship feed,
And versed in all the Vedas' lore,
  Their lives of virtue lead.
Truthful and pure, they freely give;
  They keep each sense controlled,
And in their holy fervour live
  Like the great saints of old.




Canto VI. The King.


There reigned a king of name revered,
To country and to town endeared,
Great Dasaratha, good and sage,
Well read in Scripture's holy page:
Upon his kingdom's weal intent,
Mighty and brave and provident;
The pride of old Ikshvaku's seed
For lofty thought and righteous deed.
Peer of the saints, for virtues famed,
For foes subdued and passions tamed:
A rival in his wealth untold
Of Indra and the Lord of Gold.
Like Manu first of kings, he reigned,
And worthily his state maintained.
For firm and just and ever true
Love, duty, gain he kept in view,
And ruled his city rich and free,
Like Indra's Amaravati.
And worthy of so fair a place
There dwelt a just and happy race
  With troops of children blest.
Each man contented sought no more,
Nor longed with envy for the store
  By richer friends possessed.
For poverty was there unknown,
And each man counted as his own
  Kine, steeds, and gold, and grain.
All dressed in raiment bright and clean,
And every townsman might be seen
  With earrings, wreath, or chain.
None deigned to feed on broken fare,
And none was false or stingy there.
A piece of gold, the smallest pay,
Was earned by labour for a day.
On every arm were bracelets worn,
And none was faithless or forsworn,
  A braggart or unkind.
None lived upon another's wealth,
None pined with dread or broken health,
  Or dark disease of mind.
High-souled were all. The slanderous word,
The boastful lie, were never heard.
Each man was constant to his vows,
And lived devoted to his spouse.
No other love his fancy knew,
And she was tender, kind, and true.
Her dames were fair of form and face,
With charm of wit and gentle grace,
With modest raiment simply neat,
And winning manners soft and sweet.
The twice-born sages, whose delight
Was Scripture's page and holy rite,
Their calm and settled course pursued,
Nor sought the menial multitude.
In many a Scripture each was versed,
And each the flame of worship nursed,
  And gave with lavish hand.
Each paid to Heaven the offerings due,
And none was godless or untrue
  In all that holy band.
To Brahmans, as the laws ordain,
The Warrior caste were ever fain
  The reverence due to pay;
And these the Vaisyas' peaceful crowd,
Who trade and toil for gain, were proud
  To honour and obey;
And all were by the Sudras(70) served,
Who never from their duty swerved,
Their proper worship all addressed
To Brahman, 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 Vahli's(72) hills and Sindhu's(73) sand,
Vanayu(74) and Kamboja's land.(75)
Her noble elephants had strayed
Through Vindhyan and Himalayan 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 Vaman, vast of size,
Of Mahapadma's glorious line,
Thine, Anjan, and, Airavat, 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)
Ayodhya for a league or more
  Cast a bright glory round,
Where Dasaratha 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:
Vasishtha, faithful to advise,
And Vamadeva, Scripture-wise.
Eight other lords around him stood,
All skilled to counsel, wise and good:
Jayanta, Vijay, Dhrishti bold
In fight, affairs of war controlled:
Siddharth and Arthasadhak true
Watched o'er expense and revenue,
And Dharmapal and wise Asok
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 Vasus(79) 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
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, Vasishtha 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,
Sanatkumar, 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 Kasyap's(80) race, a holy man,
Vibhandak named: to him shall spring
A son, the famous Rishyasring.
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 Brahmans 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 Lomapad 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 Brahmans shall reply:
"By every art, O Monarch, try
Hither to bring Vibhandak'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 Rishyasring.
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
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 Rishyasring
To Lomapad, the mighty king,
  By wedlock be allied;
For Santa, 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 Dasaratha gain
Sons whom his prayers have begged in vain."
"I have repeated, Sire, thus far,
The words of old Sanatkumar,
In order as he spoke them then
Amid the crowd of holy men."
  Then Dasaratha 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 Lomapad 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 Vibhandak 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 Koil's(82) 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
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 Kasyap's son, a saint most high,
Vibhandak styled; from him I came,
And Rishyasring 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.
Vibhandak'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 Rishyasring, 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
Forth to the forest went.
  But Rishyasring 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 Vibhandak 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 Brahman high of worth,
A flood of rain from heaven was sent
  That gladdened all the earth.

  Vibhandak 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 Lomapad, renowned by fame,
Bestowed these hamlets with their kine
And all their riches, as a sign
Of grace, on Rishyasring: and he
Vibhandak'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 Brahman's bride
His own fair daughter, lotus-eyed.

  Thus loved and honoured by the king,
The glorious Brahman Rishyasring
Passed in that royal town his life
With Santa 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 Brahman told.
"Of famed Ikshvaku's line shall spring
('Twas thus he spoke) a pious king,
Named Dasaratha, good and great,
True to his word and fortunate.
He with the Angas' mighty lord
Shall ever live in sweet accord,
And his a daughter fair shall be,
Santa of happy destiny.
But Lomapad, the Angas' chief,
Still pining in his childless grief,
To Dasaratha thus shall say:
"Give me thy daughter, friend, I pray,
Thy Santa of the tranquil mind,
The noblest one of womankind."

  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 Rishyasring the king shall wed.
And he with loving joy and pride
Shall take her for his honoured bride.
And Dasaratha to a rite
That best of Brahmans shall invite
  With supplicating prayer,
To celebrate the sacrifice
To win him sons and Paradise,(83)
That he will fain prepare.
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 Brahman to thy side."
Sumantra's counsel, wise and good,
  King Dasaratha heard,
Then by Vasishtha's side he stood
And thus with him conferred:
"Sumantra counsels thus: do thou
My priestly guide, the plan allow."
  Vasishtha gave his glad consent,
And forth the happy monarch went
With lords and servants on the road
That led to Rishyasring's abode.
Forests and rivers duly past,
He reached the distant town at last
Of Lomapad 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 Lomapad, 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 Dasaratha prayed)
Thy Santa 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 Santas 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 Santa at his side
To Dasaratha'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 Dasaratha'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 Ayodhya 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 Rishyasring.
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 Rishyasring passed blissful days,
Graced like the king with love and praise
And shone in glorious light with her,
Sweet Santa, for his minister,
As Brahma's son Vasishtha, he
Who wedded Saint Arundhati.(84)




Canto XI. The Sacrifice Decreed.


The Dewy Season(85) came and went;
  The spring returned again:
Then would the king, with mind intent,
  His sacrifice ordain.
He came to Rishyasring, 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 Vasishtha and the rest,
  In Scripture deeply read.
Suyajna, Vamadeva came,
  Javali, Kasyap's son,
And old Vasishtha, dear to fame,
  Obedient every one.
King Dasaratha 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 Rishyasring 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 Vasishtha 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 Sarju'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 Brahmans 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 Dasaratha 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 Vasishtha, 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,
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 Brahmans 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 Brahman 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 Vasistha 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 Mithila(87) obey.
The firm of vow, the dread of foes,
Who all the lore of Scripture knows,
Invite him here with honour high,
King Dasaratha's old ally.
And Kasi's(88) 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's(89) realms obey,
Him with his son invite, I pray.
And Lomapad 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 Surashtra's(90) land,
Suvira's(91) 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."
  Vasishtha'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 Vasishtha stood
All those who wrought with stone and wood,
And showed the work which every one
In furtherance of the rite had done,
Rejoiced their ready zeal to see,
Thus to the craftsmen all said he:
"I charge ye, masters, see to this,
That there be nothing done amiss,
And this, I pray, in mind be borne,
That not one gift ye give in scorn:
Whenever scorn a gift attends
Great sin is his who thus offends."
  And now some days and nights had past,
And kings began to gather fast,
And precious gems in liberal store
As gifts to Dasaratha bore.
Then joy thrilled through Vasishtha's breast
As thus the monarch he addressed:
"Obedient to thy high decree
The kings, my lord, are come to thee.
And it has been my care to greet
And honour all with reverence meet.
Thy servants' task is ended quite,
And all is ready for the rite.
Come forth then to the sacred ground
Where all in order will be found."
Then Rishyasring confirmed the tale:
Nor did their words to move him fail.
The stars propitious influence lent
When forth the world's great ruler went.
  Then by the sage Vasishtha led
    The priest begun to speed
  Those glorious rites wherein is shed
    The lifeblood of the steed.




Canto XIII. The Sacrifice Finished.


The circling year had filled its course,
And back was brought the wandering horse:
Then upon Sarju's northern strand
Began the rite the king had planned.
With Rishyasring the forms to guide,
The Brahmans to their task applied,
At that great offering of the steed
Their lofty-minded king decreed.
The priests, who all the Scripture knew,
Performed their part in order due,
And circled round in solemn train
As precepts of the law ordain.
Pravargya rites(92) were duly sped:
For Upasads(93) the flames were fed.
Then from the plant(94) the juice was squeezed,
And those high saints with minds well pleased
Performed the mystic rites begun
With bathing ere the rise of sun
They gave the portion Indra's claim,
And hymned the King whom none can blame.
The mid-day bathing followed next,
Observed as bids the holy text.
Then the good priests with utmost care,
In form that Scripture's rules declare,
For the third time pure water shed
On high souled Dasaratha's head.
Then Rishyasring and all the rest
To Indra and the Gods addressed
Their sweet-toned hymn of praise and prayer,
And called them in the rite to share.
With sweetest song and hymn entoned
They gave the Gods in heaven enthroned,
As duty bids, the gifts they claim,
The holy oil that feeds the flame.
And many an offering there was paid,
And not one slip in all was made.
For with most careful heed they saw
That all was done by Veda law.
None, all those days, was seen oppressed
By hunger or by toil distressed.
Why speak of human kind? No beast
Was there that lacked an ample feast.
For there was store for all who came,
For orphan child and lonely dame;
The old and young were well supplied,
The poor and hungry satisfied.
Throughout the day ascetics fed,
And those who roam to beg their bread:
While all around the cry was still,
"Give forth, give forth," and "Eat your fill."
"Give forth with liberal hand the meal,
And various robes in largess deal."
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 Brahmans 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 Brahman guest.
Of cheerful mind and mien were they,
With gold and jewelled earrings gay.
The best of Brahmans 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 Brahmans spent
The time in learned argument,
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 science(96) too.
No Brahman 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 Bel(97) and Khadir(98) six and six;
Six, made of the Palasa(99) tree,
Of Fig-wood one, apart to be:
Of Sleshmat(100) and of Devadar(101)
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
Kausalya, 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 Kausalya to attend,
Their company and aid to lend.
As by the horse she still reclined,
With happy mien and cheerful mind,
With Rishyasring 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
The meaner victims' bodies blazed:
The steed, of all the creatures slain,
Alone required a pile of cane.
Three days, as is by law decreed,
Lasted that Offering of the Steed.
The Chatushtom began the rite,
And when the sun renewed his light,
The Ukthya followed: after came
The Atiratra's holy flame.
These were the rites, and many more
Arranged by light of holy lore,
The Aptoryam of mighty power,
And, each performed in proper hour,
The Abhijit and Visvajit
With every form and service fit;
And with the sacrifice at night
The Jyotishtom and Ayus rite.(103)
  The task was done, as laws prescribe:
The monarch, glory of his tribe,
Bestowed the land in liberal grants
Upon the sacred ministrants.
He gave the region of the east,
His conquest, to the Hotri priest.
The west, the celebrant obtained:
The south, the priest presiding gained:
The northern region was the share
Of him who chanted forth the prayer,(104)
Thus did each priest obtain his meed
At the great Slaughter of the Steed,
Ordained, the best of all to be,
By self-existent deity.
Ikshvaku's son with joyful mind
This noble fee to each assigned,
But all the priests with one accord
Addressed that unpolluted lord:
"Tis thine alone to keep the whole
Of this broad earth in firm control.
No gift of lands from thee we seek:
To guard these realms our hands were weak.
On sacred lore our days are spent:
Let other gifts our wants content."

  The chief of old Ikshvaku'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 Vasishtha, high of soul,
And Rishyasring they gave the whole.
That largess pleased those Brahmans well,
Who bade the prince his wishes tell.
Then Dasaratha, mighty king,
Made answer thus to Rishyasring:
"O holy Hermit, of thy grace,
Vouchsafe the increase of my race."
He spoke; nor was his prayer denied:
The best of Brahmans thus replied:
"Four sons, O Monarch, shall be thine,
Upholders of thy royal line."




Canto XIV. Ravan 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 Vibhandak'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:
Brahma, the ruler of the sky,
Sthanu, Narayan, Lord most high,
And holy Indra men might view
With Maruts(105) 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 Dasaratha 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, Brahman, 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 Brahma, mighty by thy grace,
Ravan, 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 Ravan'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 Vishnu to the council came;
His hands shell, mace, and discus bore,
And saffron were the robes he wore.
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 Madhu(106) slew,
Be thou our refuge, firm and true;
Friend of the suffering worlds art thou,
We pray thee help thy suppliants now."
Then Vishnu spake: "Ye Gods, declare,
What may I do to grant your prayer?"

  "King Dasaratha," 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
Ravan who laughs at heavenly might:
This common scourge, this rankling thorn
Whom the three worlds too long have borne
For Ravan 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's(107) 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 Narayan(108) made:
"What task demands my presence there,
And whence this dread, ye Gods declare."

  The Gods replied: "We fear, O Lord,
Fierce Ravan, 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 Vishnu, God of Gods, the Lord
Supreme by all the worlds adored,
To Brahma 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 Ravan 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 Vishnu 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 Dasaratha, 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 Vishnu, 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.
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 Kausalya said:
"This genial nectar take and quaff,"
He spoke, and gave the lady half.
Part of the nectar that remained
Sumitra from his hand obtained.
He gave, to make her fruitful too,
Kaikeyi half the residue.
A portion yet remaining there,
  He paused awhile to think.
Then gave Sumitra, 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 Vanars.


When Vishnu 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 Vishnu'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 Vishnu'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)
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.
Bali, the woodland hosts who led,
High as Mahendra's(116) lofty head,
Was Indra's child. That noblest fire,
The Sun, was great Sugriva's sire,
Tara, the mighty monkey, he
Was offspring of Vrihaspati:(117)
Tara the matchless chieftain, boast
For wisdom of the Vanar host.
Of Gandhamadan brave and bold
The father was the Lord of Gold.
Nala the mighty, dear to fame,
Of skilful Visvakarma(118) came.
From Agni,(119) Nila bright as flame,
Who in his splendour, might, and worth,
Surpassed the sire who gave him birth.
The heavenly Asvins,(120) swift and fair,
Were fathers of a noble pair,
Who, Dwivida and Mainda named,
For beauty like their sires were famed,
Varun(121) was father of Sushen,
Of Sarabh, he who sends the rain,(122)
Hanuman, best of monkey kind,
Was son of him who breathes the wind:
Like thunderbolt in frame was he,
And swift as Garud's(123) 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 Vanar 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,
Or forcing through the sky their way
The very clouds by force could stay.
Mad elephants that wander through
The forest wilds, could they subdue,
And with their furious shout could scare
Dead upon earth the birds of air.
So were the sylvan chieftains formed;
Thousands on thousands still they swarmed.
These were the leaders honoured most,
The captains of the Vanar host,
And to each lord and chief and guide
Was monkey offspring born beside.
Then by the bears' great monarch stood
The other roamers of the wood,
And turned, their pathless homes to seek,
To forest and to mountain peak.
The leaders of the monkey band
By the two brothers took their stand,
Sugriva, offspring of the Sun
And Bali, Indra's mighty one.
They both endowed with Garud's might,
And skilled in all the arts of fight,
Wandered in arms the forest through,
And lions, snakes, and tigers, slew.
But every monkey, ape, and bear
Ever was Bali's special care;
With his vast strength and mighty arm
He kept them from all scathe and harm.
And so the earth with hill, wood, seas,
Was filled with mighty ones like these,
Of various shape and race and kind,
With proper homes to each assigned,
With Rama's champions fierce and strong
  The earth was overspread,
High as the hills and clouds, a throng
  With bodies vast and dread.(124)




Canto XVII. Rishyasring's Return.


Now when the high-souled monarch's rite,
The Asvamedh, was finished quite,
Their sacrificial dues obtained,
The Gods their heavenly homes regained.
The lofty-minded saints withdrew,
Each to his place, with honour due,
And kings and chieftains, one and all,
Who came to grace the festival.
And Dasaratha, ere they went,
Addressed them thus benevolent:
"Now may you, each with joyful heart,
To your own realms, O Kings, depart.
Peace and good luck attend you there,
And blessing, is my friendly prayer;
Let cares of state each mind engage
To guard his royal heritage.
A monarch from his throne expelled
No better than the dead is held.
So he who cares for power and might
Must guard his realm and royal right.
Such care a meed in heaven will bring
Better than rites and offering.
Such care a king his country owes
As man upon himself bestows,
When for his body he provides
Raiment and every need besides.
For future days should kings foresee,
And keep the present error-free."

  Thus did the king the kings exhort:
They heard, and turned them from the court
And, each to each in friendship bound,
Went forth to all the realms around.
The rites were o'er, the guests were sped:
The train the best of Brahmans led,
In which the king with joyful soul,
With his dear wives, and with the whole
Of his imperial host and train
Of cars and servants turned again,
And, as a monarch dear to fame,
Within his royal city came.

  Next, Rishyasring, well-honoured sage,
And Santa, sought their hermitage.
The king himself, of prudent mind,
Attended him, with troops behind.
And all her men the town outpoured
With Saint Vasishtha and their lord.
High mounted on a car of state,
O'er canopied fair Santa sate.
Drawn by white oxen, while a band
Of servants marched on either hand.
Great gifts of countless price she bore,
With sheep and goats and gems in store.
Like Beauty's self the lady shone
With all the jewels she had on,
As, happy in her sweet content,
Peerless amid the fair she went.
Not Queen Paulomi's(125) self could be
More loving to her lord than she.
She who had lived in happy ease,
Honoured with all her heart could please,
While dames and kinsfolk ever vied
To see her wishes gratified,
Soon as she knew her husband's will
Again to seek the forest, still
Was ready for the hermit's cot,
Nor murmured at her altered lot.
The king attended to the wild
That hermit and his own dear child,
And in the centre of a throng
Of noble courtiers rode along.
The sage's son had let prepare
A lodge within the wood, and there
While they lingered blithe and gay.
Then, duly honoured, went their way.
The glorious hermit Rishyasring
Drew near and thus besought the king:

  "Return, my honoured lord, I pray,
Return, upon thy homeward way."
The monarch, with the waiting crowd,
Lifted his voice and wept aloud,
And with eyes dripping still to each
Of his good queens he spake this speech:

  "Kausalya and Sumitra dear,
And thou, my sweet Kaikeyi, hear.
All upon Santa feast your gaze,
The last time for a length of days."
To Santa's arms the ladies leapt,
And hung about her neck and wept,
And cried, "O, happy be the life
Of this great Brahman and his wife.
The Wind, the Fire, the Moon on high,
The Earth, the Streams, the circling Sky,
Preserve thee in the wood, true spouse,
Devoted to thy husband's vows.
And O dear Santa, ne'er neglect
To pay the dues of meek respect
To the great saint, thy husband's sire,
With all observance and with fire.
And, sweet one, pure of spot and blame,
Forget not thou thy husband's claim;
In every change, in good and ill,
Let thy sweet words delight him still,
And let thy worship constant be:
Her lord is woman's deity.
To learn thy welfare, dearest friend,
The king will many a Brahman send.
Let happy thoughts thy spirit cheer,
And be not troubled, daughter dear."

  These soothing words the ladies said.
And pressed their lips upon her head.
Each gave with sighs her last adieu,
Then at the king's command withdrew.
The king around the hermit went
With circling footsteps reverent,
And placed at Rishyasring's command
Some soldiers of his royal band.
The Brahman bowed in turn and cried,
"May fortune never leave thy side.
O mighty King, with justice reign,
And still thy people's love retain."
He spoke, and turned away his face,
  And, as the hermit went,
The monarch, rooted to the place,
  Pursued with eyes intent.
But when the sage had past from view
King Dasaratha turned him too,
Still fixing on his friend each thought.
With such deep love his breast was fraught.
Amid his people's loud acclaim
Home to his royal seat he came,
  And lived delighted there,
Expecting when each queenly dame,
Upholder of his ancient fame,
  Her promised son should bear.
The glorious sage his way pursued
Till close before his eyes he viewed
Sweet Champa, Lomapad's fair town,
Wreathed with her Champacs'(126) leafy crown.
Soon as the saint's approach he knew,
The king, to yield him honour due,
Went forth to meet him with a band
Of priests and nobles of the land:
"Hail, Sage," he cried, "O joy to me!
What bliss it is, my lord, to see
Thee with thy wife and all thy train
Returning to my town again.
Thy father, honoured Sage, is well,
Who hither from his woodland cell
Has sent full many a messenger
For tidings both of thee and her."
Then joyfully, for due respect,
The monarch bade the town be decked.
The king and Rishyasring elate
Entered the royal city's gate:
  In front the chaplain rode.
Then, loved and honoured with all care
By monarch and by courtier, there
  The glorious saint abode.




Canto XVIII. Rishyasring's Departure.


The monarch called a Brahman near
  And said, "Now speed away
To Kasyap's son,(127) the mighty seer,
  And with all reverence say
The holy child he holds so dear,
The hermit of the noble mind,
Whose equal it were hard to find,
  Returned, is dwelling here.
Go, and instead of me do thou
Before that best of hermits bow,
That still he may, for his dear son,
Show me the favour I have won."
Soon as the king these words had said,
To Kasyap's son the Brahman sped.
Before the hermit low he bent
And did obeisance, reverent;
Then with meek words his grace to crave
The message of his lord he gave:
"The high-souled father of his bride
Had called thy son his rites to guide:
Those rites are o'er, the steed is slain;
Thy noble child is come again."

  Soon as the saint that speech had heard
His spirit with desire was stirred
To seek the city of the king
And to his cot his son to bring.
With young disciples at his side
Forth on his way the hermit hied,
While peasants from their hamlets ran
To reverence the holy man.
Each with his little gift of food,
Forth came the village multitude,
And, as they humbly bowed the head,
"What may we do for thee?" they said.
Then he, of Brahmans first and best,
The gathered people thus addressed:
"Now tell me for I fain would know,
Why is it I am honoured so?"
They to the high-souled saint replied:
"Our ruler is with thee allied.
Our master's order we fulfil;
O Brahman, let thy mind be still."

  With joy the saintly hermit heard
Each pleasant and delightful word,
And poured a benediction down
On king and ministers and town.
Glad at the words of that high saint
Some servants hastened to acquaint
Their king, rejoicing to impart
The tidings that would cheer his heart.
Soon as the joyful tale he knew
To meet the saint the monarch flew,
The guest-gift in his hand he brought,
And bowed before him and besought:
"This day by seeing thee I gain
Not to have lived my life in vain,
Now be not wroth with me, I pray,
"Because I wiled thy son away.(128)

  The best of Brahmans answer made:
"Be not, great lord of kings, afraid.
Thy virtues have not failed to win
My favour, O thou pure of sin."
Then in the front the saint was placed,
The king came next in joyous haste,
And with him entered his abode,
Mid glad acclaim as on they rode.
To greet the sage the reverent crowd
Raised suppliant hands and humbly bowed.
Then from the palace many a dame
Following well-dressed Santa came,
Stood by the mighty saint and cried:
"See, honour's source, thy son's dear bride."
The saint, who every virtue knew,
His arms around his daughter threw,
And with a father's rapture pressed
The lady to his wondering breast.
Arising from the saint's embrace
She bowed her low before his face,
And then, with palm to palm applied,
Stood by her hermit father's side.
He for his son, as laws ordain,
Performed the rite that frees from stain,(129)
And, honoured by the wise and good,
With him departed to the wood.




Canto XIX. The Birth Of The Princes.


The seasons six in rapid flight
Had circled since that glorious rite.
Eleven months had passed away;
'Twas Chaitra's ninth returning day.(130)
The moon within that mansion shone
Which Aditi looks kindly on.
Raised to their apex in the sky
Five brilliant planets beamed on high.
Shone with the moon, in Cancer's sign,
Vrihaspati(131) with light divine.
Kausalya bore an infant blest
With heavenly marks of grace impressed;
Rama, the universe's lord,
A prince by all the worlds adored.
New glory Queen Kausalya won
Reflected from her splendid son.
So Aditi shone more and more,
The Mother of the Gods, when she
The King of the Immortals(132) bore,
The thunder-wielding deity.
The lotus-eyed, the beauteous boy,
He came fierce Ravan to destroy;
From half of Vishnu's vigour born,
He came to help the worlds forlorn.
And Queen Kaikeyi bore a child
Of truest valour, Bharat styled,
With every princely virtue blest,
One fourth of Vishnu manifest.
Sumitra too a noble pair,
Called Lakshman and Satrughna, bare,
Of high emprise, devoted, true,
Sharers in Vishnu's essence too.
'Neath Pushya's(133) mansion, Mina's(134) sign,
Was Bharat born, of soul benign.
The sun had reached the Crab at morn
When Queen Sumitra's babes were born,
What time the moon had gone to make
His nightly dwelling with the Snake.
The high-souled monarch's consorts bore
At different times those glorious four,
Like to himself and virtuous, bright
As Proshthapada's(135) four-fold light.
Then danced the nymphs' celestial throng,
  The minstrels raised their strain;
The drums of heaven pealed loud and long,
  And flowers came down in rain.
Within Ayodhya, blithe and gay,
All kept the joyous holiday.
The spacious square, the ample road
With mimes and dancers overflowed,
And with the voice of music rang
Where minstrels played and singers sang,
And shone, a wonder to behold,
With dazzling show of gems and gold.
Nor did the king his largess spare,
For minstrel, driver, bard, to share;
Much wealth the Brahmans bore away,
And many thousand dine that day.

  Soon as each babe was twelve days old
'Twas time the naming rite to hold.
When Saint Vasishtha, rapt with joy,
Assigned a name to every boy.
Rama, to him the high-souled heir,
Bharat, to him Kaikeyi bare:
Of Queen Sumitra one fair son
Was Lakshman, and Satrughna(136) one
Rama, his sire's supreme delight,
Like some proud banner cheered his sight,
And to all creatures seemed to be
The self-existent deity.
All heroes, versed in holy lore,
To all mankind great love they bore.
Fair stores of wisdom all possessed,
With princely graces all were blest.
But mid those youths of high descent,
With lordly light preeminent.
Like the full moon unclouded, shone
Rama, the world's dear paragon.
He best the elephant could guide.(137)
Urge the fleet car, the charger ride:
A master he of bowman's skill,
Joying to do his father's will.
The world's delight and darling, he
Loved Lakshman best from infancy
And Lakshman, lord of lofty fate,
Upon his elder joyed to wait,
Striving his second self to please
With friendship's sweet observances.
His limbs the hero ne'er would rest
Unless the couch his brother pressed;
Except beloved Rama shared
He could not taste the meal prepared.
When Rama, pride of Reghu's race,
Sprang on his steed to urge the chase,
Behind him Lakshman loved to go
And guard him with his trusty bow.
As Rama was to Lakshman dear
More than his life and ever near,
So fond Satrughna prized above
His very life his Bharat's love.
Illustrious heroes, nobly kind
In mutual love they all combined,
And gave their royal sire delight
With modest grace and warrior might:
Supported by the glorious four
Shone Dasaratha more and more,
  As though, with every guardian God
    Who keeps the land and skies,
  The Father of all creatures trod
    The earth before men's eyes.




Canto XX. Visvamitra's Visit.


Now Dasaratha's pious mind
Meet wedlock for his sons designed;
With priests and friends the king began
To counsel and prepare his plan.
Such thoughts engaged his bosom, when,
To see Ayodhya's lord of men,
A mighty saint of glorious fame,
The hermit Visvamitra(138) came.
For evil fiends that roam by night
Disturbed him in each holy rite,
And in their strength and frantic rage
Assailed with witcheries the sage.
He came to seek the monarch's aid
To guard the rites the demons stayed,
Unable to a close to bring
One unpolluted offering.
Seeking the king in this dire strait
He said to those who kept the gate:
"Haste, warders, to your master run,
And say that here stands Gadhi's son."

  Soon as they heard the holy man,
To the king's chamber swift they ran
With minds disordered all, and spurred
To wildest zeal by what they heard.
On to the royal hall they sped,
There stood and lowly bowed the head,
And made the lord of men aware
That the great saint was waiting there.
  The king with priest and peer arose
And ran the sage to meet,
  As Indra from his palace goes
Lord Brahma's self to greet.
When glowing with celestial light
The pious hermit was in sight,
The king, whose mien his transport showed,
The honoured gift for guests bestowed.
Nor did the saint that gift despise,
Offered as holy texts advise;
He kindly asked the earth's great king
How all with him was prospering.
The son of Kusik(139) bade him tell
If all in town and field were well,
All well with friends, and kith and kin,
And royal treasure stored within:
  "Do all thy neighbours own thy sway?
    Thy foes confess thee yet?
  Dost thou continue still to pay
    To Gods and men each debt?"
Then he, of hermits first and best,
Vasishtha with a smile(140) addressed,
And asked him of his welfare too,
Showing him honour as was due.
Then with the sainted hermit all
Went joyous to the monarch's hall,
And sate them down by due degree,
Each one, of rank and dignity.
Joy filled the noble prince's breast
Who thus bespoke the honoured guest:
"As amrit(141) by a mortal found,
As rain upon the thirsty ground,
As to an heirless man a son
Born to him of his precious one,
As gain of what we sorely miss,
As sudden dawn of mighty bliss,
So is thy coming here to me:
All welcome, mighty Saint, to thee.
What wish within thy heart hast thou?
If I can please thee, tell me how.
Hail, Saint, from whom all honours flow,
Worthy of all I can bestow.
Blest is my birth with fruit to-day,
Nor has my life been thrown away.
I see the best of Brahman race
And night to glorious morn gives place.
Thou, holy Sage, in days of old
Among the royal saints enrolled,
Didst, penance-glorified, within
The Brahman caste high station win.
'Tis meet and right in many a way
That I to thee should honour pay.
This seems a marvel to mine eyes:
All sin thy visit purifies;
And I by seeing thee, O Sage,
Have reaped the fruit of pilgrimage.
Then say what thou wouldst have me do,
That thou hast sought this interview.
Favoured by thee, my wish is still,
O Hermit, to perform thy will.
Nor needest thou at length explain
The object that thy heart would gain.
Without reserve I grant it now:
My deity, O Lord, art thou."

  The glorious hermit, far renowned,
With highest fame and virtue crowned,
Rejoiced these modest words to hear
Delightful to the mind and ear.




Canto XXI. Visvamitra's Speech.


The hermit heard with high content
That speech so wondrous eloquent,
And while each hair with joy arose,(142)
He thus made answer at the close:
"Good is thy speech O noble King,
And like thyself in everything.
So should their lips be wisdom-fraught
Whom kings begot, Vasishtha taught.
The favour which I came to seek
Thou grantest ere my tongue can speak.
But let my tale attention claim,
And hear the need for which I came.
O King, as Scripture texts allow,
A holy rite employs me now.
Two fiends who change their forms at will
Impede that rite with cursed skill.(143)
Oft when the task is nigh complete,
These worst of fiends my toil defeat,
Throw bits of bleeding flesh, and o'er
The altar shed a stream of gore.
When thus the rite is mocked and stayed,
And all my pious hopes delayed,
Cast down in heart the spot I leave,
And spent with fruitless labour grieve.
Nor can I, checked by prudence, dare
Let loose my fury on them there:
The muttered curse, the threatening word,
In such a rite must ne'er be heard.
Thy grace the rite from check can free.
And yield the fruit I long to see.
Thy duty bids thee, King, defend
The suffering guest, the suppliant friend.
Give me thy son, thine eldest born,
Whom locks like raven's wings adorn.
That hero youth, the truly brave,
Of thee, O glorious King, I crave.
For he can lay those demons low
Who mar my rites and work me woe:
My power shall shield the youth from harm,
And heavenly might shall nerve his arm.
And on my champion will I shower
Unnumbered gifts of varied power,
Such gifts as shall ensure his fame
And spread through all the worlds his name.
Be sure those fiends can never stand
Before the might of Rama's hand,
And mid the best and bravest none
Can slay that pair but Raghu's son.
Entangled in the toils of Fate
Those sinners, proud and obstinate,
Are, in their fury overbold,
No match for Rama mighty-souled.
Nor let a father's breast give way
Too far to fond affection's sway.
Count thou the fiends already slain:
My word is pledged, nor pledged in vain.
I know the hero Rama well
In whom high thoughts and valour dwell;
So does Vasishtha, so do these
Engaged in long austerities.
If thou would do the righteous deed,
And win high fame, thy virtue's meed,
Fame that on earth shall last and live,
To me, great King, thy Rama give.
If to the words that I have said,
With Saint Vasishtha at their head
Thy holy men, O King, agree,
Then let thy Rama go with me.
Ten nights my sacrifice will last,
And ere the stated time be past
Those wicked fiends, those impious twain,
Must fall by wondrous Rama slain.
Let not the hours, I warn thee, fly,
Fixt for the rite, unheeded by;
Good luck have thou, O royal Chief,
Nor give thy heart to needless grief."

  Thus in fair words with virtue fraught
The pious glorious saint besought.
But the good speech with poignant sting
Pierced ear and bosom of the king,
Who, stabbed with pangs too sharp to bear,
Fell prostrate and lay fainting there.




Canto XXII. Dasaratha's Speech.


His tortured senses all astray,
While the hapless monarch lay,
Then slowly gathering thought and strength
To Visvamitra spoke at length:
"My son is but a child, I ween;
This year he will be just sixteen.
How is he fit for such emprise,
My darling with the lotus eyes?
A mighty army will I bring
That calls me master, lord, and king,
And with its countless squadrons fight
Against these rovers of the night.
My faithful heroes skilled to wield
The arms of war will take the field;
Their skill the demons' might may break:
Rama, my child, thou must not take.
I, even I, my bow in hand,
Will in the van of battle stand,
And, while my soul is left alive,
With the night-roaming demons strive.
Thy guarded sacrifice shall be
Completed, from all hindrance free.
Thither will I my journey make:
Rama, my child, thou must not take.
A boy unskilled, he knows not yet
The bounds to strength and weakness set.
No match is he for demon foes
Who magic arts to arms oppose.
O chief of saints, I have no power,
Of Rama reft, to live one hour:
Mine aged heart at once would break:
Rama, my child, thou must not take.
Nine thousand circling years have fled
With all their seasons o'er my head,
And as a hard-won boon, O sage,
These sons have come to cheer mine age.
My dearest love amid the four
Is he whom first his mother bore,
Still dearer for his virtues' sake:
Rama, my child, thou must not take.
But if, unmoved by all I say,
Thou needs must bear my son away,
Let me lead with him, I entreat,
A four-fold army(144) all complete.
What is the demons' might, O Sage?
Who are they? What their parentage?
What is their size? What beings lend
Their power to guard them and befriend?
How can my son their arts withstand?
Or I or all my armed band?
Tell me the whole that I may know
To meet in war each evil foe
Whom conscious might inspires with pride."

  And Visvamitra thus replied:
"Sprung from Pulastya's race there came
A giant known by Ravan's name.
Once favoured by the Eternal Sire
He plagues the worlds in ceaseless ire,
For peerless power and might renowned,
By giant bands encompassed round.
Visravas for his sire they hold,
His brother is the Lord of Gold.
King of the giant hosts is he,
And worst of all in cruelty.
This Ravan's dread commands impel
Two demons who in might excel,
Maricha and Suvahu hight,
To trouble and impede the rite."

  Then thus the king addressed the sage:
"No power have I, my lord, to wage
War with this evil-minded foe;
Now pity on my darling show,
And upon me of hapless fate,
For thee as God I venerate.
Gods, spirits, bards of heavenly birth,(145)
The birds of air, the snakes of earth
Before the might of Ravan quail,
Much less can mortal man avail.
He draws, I hear, from out the breast
The valour of the mightiest.
No, ne'er can I with him contend,
Or with the forces he may send.
How can I then my darling lend,
Godlike, unskilled in battle? No,
I will not let my young child go.
Foes of thy rite, those mighty ones,
Sunda and Upasunda's sons,
Are fierce as Fate to overthrow:
I will not let my young child go.
Maricha and Suvahu fell
Are valiant and instructed well.
One of the twain I might attack.
With all my friends their lord to back."




Canto XXIII. Vasishtha's Speech.


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

  As Visvamitra, mighty sage,
Was moved with this tempestuous rage,
Earth rocked and reeled throughout her frame,
And fear upon the Immortals came.
But Saint Vasishtha, wisest seer,
Observant of his vows austere,
Saw the whole world convulsed with dread,
And thus unto the monarch said:
"Thou, born of old Ikshvaku's seed,
Art Justice' self in mortal weed.
Constant and pious, blest by fate,
The right thou must not violate.
Thou, Raghu's son, so famous through
The triple world as just and true,
Perform thy