Soon as he saw the prince’s mind
To rest that day was well inclined,
He sought Kaikeyí’s son to please
With hospitable courtesies.
Then Bharat to the saint replied:
‘Our wants are more than satisfied.
The gifts which honoured strangers greet,
And water for our weary feet
Hast thou bestowed with friendly care,
And every choice of woodland fare.’
Then Bharadvája spoke, a smile
Playing upon his lips the while:
‘I know, dear Prince, thy friendly mind
Will any fare sufficient find,
But gladly would I entertain
And banquet all thine armed train:
Such is my earnest wish: do thou
This longing of my heart allow,
Why host thou hither bent thy way,
And made thy troops-behind thee stay?
[ p. 198 ]
Why unattended? couldst thou not
With friends and army seek this spot?’
Bhharat, with reverent hands raised high,
To that great hermit made reply:
‘My troops, for awe of thee, O Sage,
I brought not to thy hermitage:
Troops of a king or monarch’s son
A hermit’s home should ever shun.
Behind me comes a mighty train
Wide spreading o’er the ample plain,
Where every chief and captain leads
Men, elephants, and mettled steeds
I feared, O reverend Sage, lest these
Might harm the holy ground and trees,
Springs might be marred and cots o’er-thrown,
So with the priests I came alone.’
‘Bring all thy host,’ the hermit cried,
And Bharat, to his joy, complied.
Then to the chapel went the sire,
Where ever burnt the sacred fire,
And first, in order due, with sips
Of water purified his lips:
To Visvakarmá, then he prayed,
His hospitable feast to aid:
‘Let Vis’vakarmá hear my call,
The God who forms and fashions all:
A mighty banquet I provide,
Be all my wants this day supplied.
Lord Indra at their head, the three [1]
Who guard the worlds I call to me:
A mighty host this day I feed,
Be now supplied my every need.
Let all the streams that eastward go,
And those whose waters westering flow,
Both on the earth and in the sky,
Flow hither and my wants supply.
Be some with ardent liquor filled,
And some with wine from flowers distilled,
While some their fresh cool streams retain
Sweet as the juice of sugar-cane,
I call the Gods I call the band
Of minstrels that around them stand:
I call the Háhá and Huhú,
I call the sweet Vis’vása
I call the heavenly wives of these
With all the bright Apsarases,
Alambushe of beauty rare,
The charmer of the tangled hair,
Ghritáchí And Vis’váchi fair,
Hemá and Bhímá sweet to view,
And lovely Nágadantá too,
And all the sweetest nymphs who stand
By Indra or by Brahmá’s hand—
I summon these with all their train
And Tumburu to lead the strain.
Here let Kuvera’s garden rise
Which far in Northern Kuru [2] lies:
For leaves let cloth and gems entwine,
And let its fruit be nymphs divine.
Let Soma [3] give the noblest food
To feed the mighty multitude,
Of every kind, for tooth and lip,
To chew, to lick, to suck, and sip.
Let wreaths, where fairest flowers abound,
Spring from the trees that bloom around.
Each sort of wine to woo the taste,
And meats of every kind be placed.’
Thus spake the hermit sulf-restrained,
With proper tone by rules ordained,
On deepest meditation bent,
In holy might predominent.
Then as with hands in reverence raised
Absorbed in thought he eastward gazed,
The deities be thus addreased
Came each in semblance manifest.
Delicious gales that cooled the frame
From Malaya and Dardar came,
That kissed those scented hills and threw
Auspicious fragrance where they blew.
Then falling fast in sweetest showers
Came from the sky immortal flowers,
And all the airy region round
With heavenly drums was made to sound.
Then breathed a soft celestial breeze,
Then danced the bright Apsarases,
The minstrels and the Gods advanced,
And warbling lutes the soul entranced.
The earth and sky that music filled,
And through each ear it softly thrilled,
As from the heavenly quills it fell
With time and tune attempered well.
Soon as the minstrels ceased to play
And airs celestial died away.
The troops of Bharat saw amazed
What Vis’vakarmá’s art had raised.
On every side, five leagues around,
All smooth and level lay the ground,
With fresh green grass that charmed the sight
Like sapphires blent with lazulite.
There the Wood-apple hung the head,
The Mango and the Citron glowed
The Bel and scented Jak were there,
And Amlá with fruitage fair.
There, brought from Northern Kuru, stood
Rich in delights, the glorious wood,
And many a stream was seen to glide
[ p. 199 ]
With flowering trees along its side.
There mansions rose with four wide halls,
And elephants and chargers’ stalls,
And many a house of royal state,
Triumphal are and bannered gate.
With noble doorways, sought the sky,
Like a pale cloud, a palace high,
Which far and wide rare fragrance shed,
With wreaths of white engarlanded.
Square was its shape, its halls were wide,
With many a seat and couch supplied,
Drink of all kinds, and every meat
Such as celestial Gods might eat.
Then at the bidding of the seer
Kaikeyi’‘s strong-armed son drew near.
And passed within that fair abode
Which with the noblest jewels glowed.
Then, as Vas’ishtha led the way,
The councillors, in due array.
Followed delighted and amazed
And on the glorious structure gazed.
Then Bharat, Raghu’s son, drew near
The kingly throne, with prince and peer,
Whereby the chouri in the shade
Of the white canopy was laid.
Before the throne he humbly bent
And honoured Ráma, reverent,
Then in his hand the chouri bore,
And sat where sits a councillor,
His ministers and household priest
Sat by degrees from chief to least,
Then sat the captain of the host
And all the men he honoured most.
Then when the saint his order gave,
Each river with enchanted wave
Rolled milk and curds divinely sweet
Before the princely Bharat’s feet;
And dwellings fair on either side,
With gay white plaster beautified.
Their heavenly roofs were seen to lift,
The Bra’hman Bharady’aja’s gift,
Then straight by Lord Kuvera sent,
Gay with celestial ornament
Of bright attire and jewels’ shine.
Came twenty thousand nymphs divine:
The man on whom those beauties glanced
That moment felt his soul entranced.
With them from Nandan’s blissful shades
Came twenty thousand heavenly maids.
Tumburu, Na’rad, Gopa came,
And Sutanu, like radiant flame.
The kings of the Gandharva throng,
And ravished Bharat with their song.
Then spoke the saint, and swift obeyed
Alambusb’a, the fairest maid,
And Mis’rakes’i bright to view,
Ramana, Pundarik’a too,
And danced to him with graceful ease
The dances of Apsarases.
All deplete that by Gods are worn,
Or Chaitraratha’s graves adorn,
Bloomed by the saint’s command arrayed
On branches in Praya’ga’s shade.
When at the saint’s command the breeze
Made music with the Vilva trees,
To wave in rhythmic beat began
The boughs of each Myrobolan,
And holy fig-trees wore the look
Of dancers, as their leaflets shook.
The fair Tama’la, palm, and pine,
With trees that tower and plants that twine,
The sweetly varying forms displayed
Of stately dame or bending maid.
Here men the foaming winecup quaffed,
Here drank of milk full many a draught,
And tasted meats of every kind,
Well dressed, whatever pleased their mind.
Then beauteous women, seven or eight,
Stood ready by each man to wait:
Beside the stream his limbs they stripped
And in the cooling water dipped.
And then the fair ones, sparkling eyed,
With soft hands rubbed his limbs and dried.
And sitting on the lovely bank
Held up the winecup as he drank.
Nor did the grooms forget to feed
Camel and mule and ox and steed,
For there were stores of roasted grain,
Of honey and of sugar-cane.
So fast the wild excitement spread
Among the warriors Bharat led,
That all the mighty army through
The groom no more his charger knew,
And he who drove might seek in vain
To tell his elephant again.
With every joy and rapture fired,
Entranced with all the heart desired,
The myriads of the host that night
Revelled delirious with delight.
Urged by the damsels at their side
In wild delight the warriors cried:
‘Ne’er will we seek Ayodhya’, no,
Nor yet to Dandak forest go:
Here will we stay: may happy fate
On Bharat and on Ráma wait’
Thus cried the army gay and free
Exulting in their lawless glee,
Both infantry and those who rode
On elephants, or steeds bestrode,
Ten thousand voices shouting, 'This
Is heaven indeed for perfect bliss.’
With garlands decked they idly strayed,
And danced and laughed and sang and played.
At length as every soldier eyed,
With food like Amrit satisfied.
Bach dainty cate and tempting meat,
No longer had he care to eat.
Thus soldier, servant, dame, and slave
Received whate’er the wish might crave.
As each in new-wrought clothes arrayed
Enjoyed the feast before him laid.
[ p. 200 ]
Each man was seen in white attire
Unstained by spot or speck of mire:
None was athirst or hungry there,
And none had dust upon his hair.
On every side in woody dells
Was milky food in bubbling wells,
And there were all-supplying cows
And honey dropping from the boughs.
Nor wanted lakes of flower-made drink
With piles of meat upon the brink,
boiled, stewed, and roasted, varied cheer,
Peachick and jungle-fowl and deer,
There was the flesh of kid and boar,
And dainty sauce in endless store,
With juice of flowers concocted well,
And soup that charmed the taste and smell,
And pounded fruits of bitter taste,
And many a bath was ready placed
Down by each river’s shelving side
There stood great basins well supplied,
And laid therein, of dazzling sheen,
White brushes for the teeth were seen,
And many a covered box wherein
Was sandal powdered for the skin.
And mirrors bright with constant care,
And piles of new attire were there,
And store of sandals and of shoes,
Thousands of pairs, for all to choose:
Eye-unguents, combs for hair and beard,
Umbrellas fair and bows appeared.
Lakes gleamed, that lent digestive aid, 1
And some for pleasant bathing made,
With waters fair, and smooth incline
For camels, horses, mules, and kine.
There saw they barley heaped on high
The coutless cattle to supply:
The golden grain shone fair and bright
As sapphires or the lazulite.
To all the gathered host it seemed
As if that magic scene they dreamed,
And wonder, as they gazed, increased
At Bharadvája’s glorious feast.
Thus in the hermit’s grove they spent
That night in joy and merriment,
Blest as the Gods who take their ease
Under the shade of Nandan’s trees.
Each minstrel bade the saint adieu,
And to his blissful mansion flew,
Aiid every stream and heavenly dame
Ktturned as swiftly as she came.
So Bharat with his army spent
The watches of the night content,
And gladly, with the morning’s light
Drew near his host the anchorite.
When Bharadvája saw him stand
With hand in reverence joined to hand,
When fires of worship had been fed,
He looked upon the prince and said:
‘O blameless son, I pray thee tell,
Did the past night content thee well?
Say if the feast my care supplied
Thy host of followers gratified.’
His hands he joined, his head he bent
And spoke in answer reverent
To the most high and radiant sage
Who issued from his hermitage:
‘Well have I passed the night: thy feast
Gave joy to every man and beast;
And I, great lord, and every peer
Were satisfied with sumptuous cheer,
Thy banquet has delighted all
From highest chief to meanest thrall,
And rich attire and drink and meat
Banished the thought of toil and heat,
And now, O Hermit good and great,
A boon of thee I supplicate.
To Ráma’s side my steps I bend:
Do thou with friendly eye commend.
O tell me how to guide my feet
To virtuous Ráma’s lone retreat:
Great Hermit, I entreat thee, say
How far from here and which the way.’
Thus by fraternal love inspired
The chieftain of the saint inquired:
Then thus replied the glorious seer
Of matchless might, of vows austere:
‘Ere the fourth league from here be passed,
Amid a forest wild and vast,
Stands Chitrakúta’s mountain tall,
Lovely with wood and waterfall.
North of the mountain thou wilt see
The beauteous stream Mandákiní,
Where swarm the waterfowl below.
And gay trees on the margin grow.
Then will a leafy cot between
The river and the hill be seen:
‘Tis Ráma’s, and the princely pair
Of brothers live for certain there.
Hence to the south thine army lead,
And then more southward still proceed.
So shall thou find his lone retreat,
And there the son of Raghu meet.’
Soon as the ordered march they knew,
The widows of the monarch flew,
Leaving their cars, most meet to ride,
And flocked to Bharadvája’s side.
There with the good Sumitrá Queen
Kaus’alyá, sad and worn, was seen,
Caressing, still with sorrow faint,
The feet of that illustrious saint,
Kaikeyí too, her longings crossed,
Reproached of all, her object lost,
Before the famous hermit came,
[ p. 201 ]
And clasped his feet, overwhelmed with shame.
With circling steps she humbly went
Around the saint preëminent,
And stood not far from Bharat’s side
With heart oppressed, and heavy-eyed.
Then the great seer, who never broke
One holy vow, to Bharat spoke:
‘Speak, Raghu’s son: I fain would learn
The story of each queen in turn.’
Obedient to the high request
By Bharadvája thus addressed,
His reverent hands together laid,
He, skilled in speech, his answer made:
‘She whom, O Saint, thou seest here
A Goddess in her form appear,
Was the chief consort of the king,
Now worn with fast and sorrowing.
As Aditi in days of yore
The all-preserving Vishnu bore,
Kaus’alyá bore with happy fate
Lord Ráma of the lion’s gait.
She who, transfixed with torturing pangs,
On her left arm so fondly hangs,
As when her withering leaves decay
Droops by the wood the Cassia spray,
Sumitrá, pained with woe, is she,
The consort second of the three:
Two princely sons the lady bare,
Fair as the Gods in heaven are fair.
And she, the wicked dame through whom
My brothers’ lives are wrapped in gloom,
And mourning for his offspring dear,
The king has sought his heavenly sphere,—
Proud, foolish-hearted, swift to ire,
Self-fancied darling of my sire,
Kaikeyí, most ambitious queen,
Unlovely with her lovely mien,
My mother she, whose impious will
Is ever bent on deeds of ill,
In whom the root and spring I see
Of all this woe which crushes me.’
Quick breathing like a furious snake,
With tears and sobs the hero spake,
With reddened eyes aglow with rage.
And Bharadvája, mighty sage,
Supreme in wisdom, calm and grave,
In words like these good counsel gave:
‘O Bharat, hear the words I say;
On her the fault thou must not lay:
For many a blessing yet will spring
From banished Ráma’s wandering.’
And Bharat, with that promise cheered,
Went circling round that saint revered.
He humbly bade farewell, and then
Gave orders to collect his men.
Prompt at the summons thousands flew
To cars which noble coursers drew,
Bright-gleaming, glorious to behold,
Adorned with wealth of burnished gold.
Then female elephants and male,
Gold-girthed, with flags that wooed the gale,
Marched with their bright bells’ tinkling chime
Like clouds when ends the summer time:
Some cars were huge and some were light,
For heavy draught or rapid flight,
Of costly price, of every kind,
With clouds of infantry behind.
The dames, Kaus’alyá at their head,
Were in the noblest chariots led,
And every gentle bosom beat
With hope the banished prince to meet.
The royal Bharat, glory-crowned,
With all his retinue around,
Borne in a beauteous litter rode,
Like the young moon and sun that glowed.
The army as it streamed along,
Cars, elephants, in endless throng,
Showed, marching on its southward way,
Like autumn clouds in long array.
As through the woods its way pursued
That mignty bannered multitude,
Wild elephants in terror fled
With all the startled herds they led,
And bears and deer were seen on hill,
In forest glade, by every rill.
Wide as the sea from coast to coast,
The high-souled Bharat’s mighty host
Covered the earth as cloudy trains
Obscure the sky when fall the rains.
The stately elephants he led,
And countless steeds the land o’erspread,
So closely crowded that between
Their serried ranks no ground was seen.
Then when the host had travelled far,
And steeds were worn who drew the car,
The glorious Bharat thus addressed
Vas’ishtha, of his lords the best:
‘The spot, methinks, we now behold
Of which the holy hermit told,
For, as his words described, I trace
Each several feature of the place:
Before us Chitrakúta shows,
Mandákiní beside us flows:
Afar umbrageous woods arise
Like darksome clouds that veil the skies.
Now tread these mountain-beasts of mine
On Chitrakúta’s fair incline.
The trees their rain of blossoms shed
On table-lands beneath them spread,
As from black clouds the floods descend
When the hot days of summer end.
S’atrughna, look, the mountain see
Where heavenly minstrels wander free,
[ p. 202 ]
And horses browse beneath the steep.
Countless as monsters in the deep.
Scared by my host the mountain deer
Starting with tempest speed appear
Like the long lines of cloud that fly
In autumn through the windy sky.
See, every warrior shows his head
With fragrant blooms engarlanded;
All look like southern soldiers who
Lift up their shields of azure hue.
This lonely wood beneath the hill.
That was so dark and drear and still,
Covered with men in endless streams
Now like Ayodhyá’s city seems.
The dust which countless hoofs excite
Obscures the sky and veils the light;
But see, swift winds those clouds dispel
As if they strove to please me well.
See, guided in their swift career
By many a skilful charioteer,
Those cars by fleetest coursers drawn
Race onward over glade and lawn.
Look, startled as the host comes near
The lovely peacocks fly in fear,
Gorgeous as if the fairest blooms
Of earth had glorified their plumes.
Look where the sheltering covert shows
The trooping deer, both bucks and does,
That occupy in countless herds
This mountain populous with birds.
Most lovely to my mind appears
This place which every charm endears:
Fair as the road where tread the Blest;
Here holy hermits take their rest,
Then let the army onward press
And duly search each green recess
For the two lion-lords, till we
Ráma once more and Lakshman see.’
Thus Bharat spoke: and hero bands
Of men with weapons in their hands
Entered the tangled forest: then
A spire of smoke appeared in ken.
Soon as they saw the rising smoke
To Bharat they returned and spoke:
‘No fire where men are not: 'tis clear
That Raghu’s sons are dwelling here.
Or if not here those heros dwell
Whose mighty arms their foeman quell,
Still other hermits here must be
Like Ráma, true and good as he.’
His ears attentive Bharat lent
To their resistless argument,
Then to his troops the chief who broke
His foe’s embattled armies spoke:
‘Here let the troops in silence stay;
One step beyond they must not stray.
Come Dhrishti and Sumantra, you
With me alone the path pursue.’
Their leader’s speech the warriors heard,
And from his place no soldier stirred,
And Bharat beat his eager eyes
Where curling smoke was seen to rise.
The host his order well obeyed,
And halting there in silence stayed
Watching where from the thicket’s shade
They saw the smoke appear.
And joy through all the army ran,
‘Soon shall we meet,’ thought every man,
‘The prince we hold so dear.’
There long the son of Raghu dwelt
And love for hill and wood he felt.
Then his Videhan spouse to please
And his own heart of woe to ease,
Like some Immortal—Indra so
Might Swarga’s charms to S’achi show—
Drew her sweet eyes to each delight
Of Chitrakúta’s lovely height:
‘Though reft of power and kingly sway,
Though friends and home are far away,
I cannot mourn my altered lot,
Enamoured of this charming spot.
Look, darling, on this noble hill
Which sweet birds with their music fill.
Bright with a thousand metal dyes
His lofty summits cleave the skies.
See, there a silvery sheen is spread,
And there like blood the rooks are red.
There shows a streak of emerald green,
And pink and yellow glow between.
There where the higher peaks ascend,
Crystal and flowers and topaz blend.
And others flash their light afar
Like mercury or some fair star:
With such a store of metals dyed
The king of hills is glorified.
There through the wild birds’ populous home
The harmless bear and tiger roam:
Hyaenas range the woody slopes
With herds of deer and antelopes.
See, love, the trees that clothe his side
All lovely in their summer pride,
In richest wealth of leaves arrayed,
With flower and fruit and light and shade,
Look where the young Rose-apple glows;
What loaded boughs the Mango shows;
See, waving in the western wind
The light leaves of the Tamarind,
And mark that giant Peepul through
The feathery clump of tall bamboo. [4]
[ p. 203 ]
Look, on the level lands above,
Delighting in successful love
In sweet enjoyment many a pair
Of heavenly minstrels revels there,
While overhanging boughs support
Their swords and mantles as they sport:
Then see that pleasant shelter where
Play the bright Daughters of the Air. [5]
The mountain seems with bright cascade
And sweet rill bursting from the shade,
Like some majestic elephant o’er
Whose burning head the torrents pour.
Where breathes the man who would not feel
Delicious languor o’er him steal,
As the young morning breeze that springs
From the cool cave with balmy wings,
Breathes round him laden with the scent
Of bud and blossom dew-besprent?
If many autumns here I spent
With thee, my darling innocent;
And Lakshman, I should never know
The torture of the fires of woe,
This varied scene so charms my sight,
This mount so fills me with delight,
Where flowers in wild profusion spring,
And ripe fruits glow and sweet birds sing.
My beauteous one, a double good
Springs from my dwelling in the wood:
Loosed is the bond my sire that tied
And Bharat too is gratified.
My darling, dost thou feel with me
Delight from every charm we see,
Of which the mind and every sense
Feel the enchanting influence?
My fathers who have passed away,
The royal saints, were wont to say
That life in woodland shades like this
Secures a king immortal bliss.
See, round the hill at random thrown.
Huge masses lie of rugged stone
Of every shape and many a hue,
Yellow and white and red and blue.
But all is fairer still by night:
Each rock reflects a softer light,
When the whole mount from foot to crest
In robes of lambent flame is dressed;
When from a million herbs a blaze
Of their own luminous glory plays,
And clothed in fire each deep ravine,
Each pinnacle and crag is seen.
Some parts the look of mansions wear,
And others are as gardens fair,
While others seem a massive block
Of solid undivided rock.
Behold those pleasant beds o’erlaid
With lotus leaves, for lovers made,
Where mountain birch and *costus throw
Cool shadows on the pair below.
See where the lovers in their play
Have cast their flowery wreaths away,
And fruit and lotus buds that crowned
Their brows lie trodden on the ground.
North Kuru’s realm is fair to see,
Vasvaukasárá, 1b Naliní, 2b
But rich in fruit and blossom still
More fair is Chitrakúta’s hill.
Here shall the years appointed glide
With thee, my beauty, by my side,
And Lakshman ever near;
Here shall I live in all delight,
Make my ancestral fame more bright,
Tread in their path who walk aright,
And to my oath adhere.’
Then Ráma, like the lotus eyed,
Descended from the mountain side,
And to the Maithil lady showed
The lovely stream that softly flowed.
And thus Ayodhyá’s lord addressed
His bride, of dames the loveliest,
Child of Videha’s king, her face
Bright with the fair moon’s tender grace:
‘How sweetly glides, O darling, look,
Mandákiní’s delightful brook,
Adorned with islets, blossoms gay,
And s’arases and swans at play!
[ p. 204 ]
The trees with which her banks are lined
Show flowers and fruit of every kind:
The match in radiant sheen is she
Of King Kuvera’s Nalini. [6]
My heart exults with pleasure new
The shelving hand and ford to view,
Where gathering herds of thirsty deer
Disturb the wave that ran so clear.
Now look, those holy hermits mark
In skins of deer and coats of bark;
With twisted coils of matted hair,
The reverend men are bathing there,
And as they lift their arms on high
The Lord of Day they glorify:
These best of saints, my large-eyed spouse,
Are constant to their sacred vows.
The mountain dances while the trees
Bend their proud summits to the breeze,
And scatter many a flower and bud
From branches that o’erhang the flood.
There flows the stream like lucid pearl,
Round islets here the currents whirl,
And perfect saints from middle air
Are flocking to the waters there.
See, there lie flowers in many a heap
From boughs the whistling breezes sweep,
And others wafted by the gale
Down the swift current dance and sail.
Now see that pair of wild-fowl rise,
Exulting with their joyful cries:
Hark, darling, wafted from afar
How soft their pleasant voices are.
To gaze on Churakuta’s hill,
To look upon this lovely rill,
To bend mine eyes on thee, dear wife,
Is sweeter than my city life.
Come, bathe we in the pleasant rill
Whose dancing waves are never still,
Stirred by those beings pure from sin,
The sanctities who bathe therein:
Come, dearest, to the stream descend,
Approach her as a darling friend,
And dip thee in the silver flood
Which lotuses and lilies stud.
Let this fair hill Ayodhya seem,
Its silvan things her people deem,
And let these waters as they flow
Our own beloved Sarju show.
How blest, mine own dear love, am I;
Thou, fond and true, art ever nigh,
And duteous, faithful Lakshman stays
Beside me, and my word obeys.
Here every day I bathe me thrice,
Fruit, honey, roots for food suffice,
And ne’er my thoughts with longing stray
To distant home or royal sway.
For who this charming brook can see
Where herds of roedeer wander free,
And on the flowery-wooded brink
Apes, elephants, and lions drink,
Nor feel all sorrow fly?’
Thus eloquently spoke the pride
Of Raghu’s children to his bride,
And wandered happy by her side
Where Chitrakuta azure-dyed
Uprears his peaks on high.
Thus Rama showed to Janak’s child
The varied beauties of the wild,
The hill, the brook and each fair spot,
Then turned to seek their leafy cot.
North of the mountain Rama found
A cavern in the sloping ground,
Charming to view, its floor was strown
With many a mass of ore and stone,
In secret shadow far retired
Where gay birds sang with joy inspired,
And trees their graceful branches swayed
With loads of blossom downward weighed.
Soon as he saw the cave which took
Each living heart and chained the look,
Thus Rama spoke to Sita, who
Gazed wondering on the silvan view:
‘Does this fair cave beneath the height,
Videhan lady, charm thy sight?
Then let us resting here a while
The languor of the way beguile.
That block of stone so smooth and square
Was set for thee to rest on there,
And like a thriving Kes’ar tree
This flowery shrub o’ershadows thee.’
Thus Rama spoke, and Janak’s child,
By nature ever soft and mild,
In tender words which love betrayed
Her answer to the hero made:
‘O pride of Raghu’s children, still
My pleasure is to do thy will.
Enough for me thy wish to know:
Far hast thou wandered to and fro.’
Thus Sita spake in gentle tone,
And went obedient to the stone,
Of perfect face and faultless limb
Prepared to rest a while with him.
And Rama, as she thus replied,
Turned to his spouse again and cried:
‘Thou seest, love, this flowery shade
For silvan creatures’ pleasure made,
How the gum streams from trees and plants
Torn by the tusks of elephants!
[ p. 205 ]
Through all the forest clear and high
Resounds the shrill cicala’s cry.
Hark how the kite above us moans,
And calls her young in piteous tones;
So may my hapless mother be
Still mourning in her home for me.
There mounted on that lofty Sál
The loud Bhringráj [8] repeats his call:
How sweetly now he tunes his throat
Responsive to the Koïl’s note.
Or else the bird that now has sung
May be himself the Koïl’s young,
Linked with such winning sweetness are
The notes he pours irregular.
See, round the blooming Mango clings
That creeper with her tender rings,
So in thy love, when none is near,
Thine arms are thrown round me, my dear.’
Thus in his joy he cried; and she,
Sweet speaker, on her lover’s knee,
Of faultless limb and perfect face,
Grew closer to her lord’s embrace.
Reclining in her husband’s arms,
A goddess in her wealth of charms,
She filled his loving breast anew
With mighty joy that thrilled him through.
His finger on the rock he laid,
Which veins of sanguine ore displayed,
And painted o’er his darling’s eyes
The holy sign in mineral dyes.
Bright on her brow the metal lay
Like the young sun’s first gleaming ray,
And showed her in her beauty fair
As the soft light of morning’s air.
Then from the Kes’ar’s laden tree
He picked fair blossoms in his glee,
And as he decked each lovely tress,
His heart o’erflowed with happiness.
So resting on that rocky seat
A while they spent in pastime sweet,
Then onward neath the shady boughs
Went Ráma with his Maithil spouse.
She roaming in the forest shade
Where every kind of creature strayed
Observed a monkey wandering near,
And clung to Ráma’s arm in fear.
The hero Ráma fondly laced
His mighty arms around her waist,
Consoled his beauty in her dread,
And scared the Monkey till he fled.
That holy mark of sanguine ore
That gleamed on Sítá’s brow before,
Shone by that close embrace impressed
Upon the hero’s ample chest.
Then Sítá, when the beast who led
The monkey troop, afar had fled,
Laughed loudly in light-hearted glee
That mark on Ráma’s chest to see.
A clump of bright As’okas fired
The forest in their bloom attired:
The restless blossoms as they gleamed
A host of threatening monkeys seemed.
Then Sítá thus to Ráma cried,
As longingly the flowers she eyed:
‘Pride of thy race, now let us go
Where those As’oka blossoms grow.’
He on his darling’s pleasure bent
With his fair goddess thither went
And roamed delighted through the wood
Where blossoming As’okas stood,
As S’iva with Queen Umá roves
Through Himaván’s majestic groves.
Bright with purpureal glow the pair
Of happy lovers sported there,
And each upon the other set
A flower-inwoven coronet.
There many a crown and chain they wove
Of blooms from that As’oka grove,
And in their graceful sport the two
Fresh beauty o’er the mountain threw.
The lover let his love survey
Each pleasant spot that round them lay,
Then turned they to their green retreat
Where all was garnished, gay, and neat.
By brotherly affection led,
Sumitrá’s son to meet them sped,
And showed the labours of the day
Done while his brother was away.
There lay ten black-deer duly slain
With arrows pure of poison stain,
Piled in a mighty heap to dry,
With many another carcass nigh.
And Lakshman’s brother saw, o’erjoyed,
The work that had his hands employed,
Then to his consort thus he cried:
‘Now be the general gifts supplied.’
Then Sítá, fairest beauty, placed
The food for living things to taste,
And set before the brothers meat
And honey that the pair might eat.
They ate the meal her hands supplied,
Their lips with water purified:
Then Janak’s daughter sat at last
And duly made her own repast.
The other venison, to be dried,
Piled up in heaps was set aside,
And Ráma told his wife to stay
And drive the flocking crows away.
Her husband saw her much distressed
By one more bold than all the rest,
Whose wings where’er he chose could fly,
Now pierce the earth, now roam the sky.
Then Ráma laughed to see her stirred
To anger by the plaguing bird:
Proud of his love the beauteous dame
With burning rage was all aflame.
Now here, now there, again, again
She chased the crow, but all in vain,
Enraging her, so quick to strike
[ p. 206 ]
With beak and wing find claw alike:
Then how the proud lip quivered, how
The dark frown marked her angry brow!
When Ráma saw her cheek aglow
With passion, he rebuked the crow.
But bold in impudence the bird,
With no respect for Ráma’s word,
Fearless again at Sítá flew:
Then Ráma’s wrath to fury grew.
The hero of the mighty arm
Spoke o’er a shaft the mystic charm,
Laid the dire weapon on his bow
And launched it at the shameless crow.
The bird, empowered by Gods to spring
Through earth itself on rapid wing,
Through the three worlds in terror fled
Still followed by that arrow dread.
Where’er he flew, now here now there,
A cloud of weapons filled the air.
Back to the high-souled prince he fled
And bent at Ráma’s feet his head,
And then, as Sítá looked, began
His speech in accents of a man:
‘O pardon, and for pity’s sake
Spare, Ráma, spare my life to take!
Where’er I turn, where’er I flee,
No shelter from this shaft I see.’
The chieftain heard the crow entreat
Helpless and prostrate at his feet,
And while soft pity moved his breast,
With wisest speech the bird addressed:
‘I took the troubled Sítá’s part,
And furious anger filled my heart.
Then on the string my arrow lay
Charmed with a spell thy life to slay.
Thou seekest now my feet, to crave
Forgiveness and thy life to save.
So shall thy prayer have due respect:
The suppliant I must still protect.
But ne’er in vain this dart may flee;
Yield for thy life a part of thee,
What portion of thy body, say,
Shall this mine arrow rend away?
Thus far, O bird, thus far alone
On thee my pity may be shown.
Forfeit a part thy life to buy:
‘Tis better so to live than die.’
Thus Ráma spoke: the bird of air
Pondered his speech with anxious care,
And wisely deemed it good to give
One of his eyes that he might live.
To Raghu’s son he made reply:
‘O Ráma, I will yield an eye.
So let me in thy grace confide
And live hereafter single-eyed.’
Then Ráma charged the shaft, and lo,
Full in the eye it smote the crow.
And the Videhan lady gazed
Upon the ruined eye amazed.
The crow to Ráma humbly bent,
Then where his fancy led he went.
Ráma with Lakshman by his side
With needful work was occupied.
Thus Ráma showed his love the rill
Whose waters ran beneath the hill,
Then resting on his mountain seat
Refreshed her with the choicest meat.
So there reposed the happy two:
Then Bharat’s army nearer drew:
Rose to the skies a dusty cloud,
The sound of trampling feet was loud.
The swelling roar of marching men
Drove the roused tiger from his den,
And scared amain the serpent race
Flying to hole and hiding-place.
The herds of deer in terror fled,
The air was filled with birds o’erhead,
The bear began to leave his tree,
The monkey to the cave to flee.
Wild elephants were all amazed
As though the wood around them blazed.
The lion oped his ponderous jaw,
The buffalo looked round in awe.
The prince, who heard the deafening sound.
And saw the silvan creatures round
Fly wildly startled from their rest,
The glorious Lakshman thus addressed:
‘Sumitrá’s noble son most dear,
Hark, Lakshman, what a roar I hear,
The tumult of a coming crowd.
Appalling, deafening, deep, and loud!
The din that yet more fearful grows
Scares elephants and buffaloes,
Or frightened by the lions, deer
Are flying through the wood in fear.
I fain would know who seeks this place:
Comes prince or monarch for the chase?
Or does some mighty beast of prey
Frighten the silvan herds away?
Tis hard to reach this mountain height,
Yea, e’en for birds in airy flight.
Then fain, O Lakshman, would I know
What cause disturbs the forest so.’
Lakshman in haste, the wood to view.
Climbed a high Sál that near him grew,
The forest all around he eyed,
First gazing on the eastern side.
Then northward when his eyes he bent
He saw a mighty armament
Of elephants, and cars, and horse,
And men on foot, a mingled force,
And banners waving in the breeze,
And spoke to Ráma words like these:
‘Quick, quick, my lord, put out the fire,
Let Sítá to the cave retire.
[ p. 207 ]
Thy coat of mail around thee throw,
Prepare thine arrows and thy bow.’
In eager haste thus Lakshman cried,
And Ráma, lion lord, replied:
‘Still closer be the army scanned,
And say who leads the warlike band.’
Lakshman his answer thus returned,
As furious rage within him burned,
Exciting him like kindled fire
To scorch the army in his ire:
‘Tis Bharat: be has made the throne
By consecrating rites his own:
To gain the whole dominion thus
He comes in arms to slaughter us.
I mark tree-high upon his car
His flagstaff of the Kovídár, [9]
I see his glittering banner glance,
I see his chivalry advance:
I see his eager warriors shine
On elephants in lengthened line.
Now grasp we each the shafts and bow,
And higher up the mountain go.
Or in this place, O hero, stand
With weapons in each ready hand.
Perhaps beneath our might may fall
This leader of the standard tall,
And Bharat I this day may see
Who brought this mighty woe on thee,
Sítá, and me, who drove away
My brother from the royal sway.
Bharat our foe at length is nigh,
And by this hand shall surely die:
Brother, I see no sin at all
If Bharat by my weapon fall.
No fault is his who slays the foe
Whose hand was first to strike the blow:
With Bharat now the crime begins
Who against thee and duty sins.
The queen athirst for royal sway
Will see her darling son to-day
Fall by this hand, like some fair tree
Struck by an elephant, slain by me.
Kaikeyí’s self shall perish too
With kith and kin and retinue,
And earth by my avenging deed
Shall from this mass of sin be freed.
This day my wrath, too long restrained,
Shall fall upon the foe, unchained,
Mad as the kindled flame that speeds
Destroying through the grass and reeds.
This day mine arrows keen and fierce
The bodies of the foe shall pierce;
The woods on Chitrakúta’s side
Shall run with torrents crimson-dyed.
The wandering beasts of prey shall feed
On heart-cleft elephant and steed,
And drag to mountain caves away
The bodies that my arrows slay.
Doubt not that Bharat and his train
Shall in this mighty wood be slain:
So shall I pay the debt my bow
And these my deadly arrows owe.
Then Ráma nobly calm allayed
The wrath that Lakshman’s bosom swayed:
‘What need have we the sword to wield,
To bend the bow or lift the shield,
If Bharat brave, and wise, and good,
Himself has sought this sheltering wood?
I sware my father’s will to do,
And if I now my brother slew
What gain in kingship should I find,
Despised and scorned by all mankind?
Believe me, e’en as I would shrink
From poisoned meat or deadly drink,
No power or treasure would I win
By fall of friend or kith or kin.
Brother, believe the words I speak:
For your dear sakes alone I seek
Duty and pleasure, wealth and gain:
A holy life, a happy reign.
If royal sway my heart desires,
My brothers’ weal the wish inspires:
Their bliss and safety is my care,
By this uplifted bow I swear.
‘Twere not so hard for me to gain
This broad land girdled by the main,
But even Indra’s royal might
Should ne’er be mine in duty’s spite,
If any bliss my soul can see
Deprived of dear S’atrughna, thee,
And Bharat, may the flame destroy
With ashy gloom the selfish joy.
Far dearer than this life of mine,
Knowing the custom of our line,
His heart with fond affection fraught,
Bharat Ayodhyá’s town resought,
And hearing when he came that I,
With thee and Sítá, forced to fly
With matted hair and hermit dress
Am wandering in the wilderness.
While grief his troubled senses storms,
And tender love his bosom warms,
From every thought of evil clear,
Is come to meet his brother here.
Some grievous words perchance he spoke
Kaikeyí’s anger to provoke,
Then won the king, and comes to lay
Before my feet the royal sway.
Hither, methinks, in season due
Comes Bharat for an interview,
Nor in his secret heart has he
One evil thought 'gainst thee or me.
What has he done ere now, reflect!
How failed in love or due respect
[ p. 208 ]
To make thee doubt his faith and lay
This evil to his charge to-day?
Thou shouldst not join with Bharat’s name
So harsh a speech and idle blame.
The blows thy tongue at Bharat deals,
My sympathizing bosom feels.
How, urged by stress of any ill,
Should sons their father’s life-blood spill,
Or brother slay in impious strife
A brother dearer than his life?
If thou these cruel words hast said
By strong desire of empire led,
My brother Bharat will I pray
To give to thee the kingly sway.
‘Give him the realm’, my speech shall be,
And Bharat will, methinks, agree.’
Thus spoke the prince whose chief delight
Was duty, and to aid the right:
And Lakshman keenly felt the blame,
And shrank within himself for shame:
And then his answer thus returned,
With downcast eye and cheek that burned:
‘Brother, I weep, to see thy face
Our sire himself has sought this place.’
Thus Lakshman spoke and stood ashamed,
And Rama saw and thus exclaimed:
‘It is the strong-armed monarch: he
Is come, methinks, his sons to see,
To bid us both the forest quit
For joys for which he deems us fit:
He thinks on all our care and pain,
And now would lead us home again.
My glorious father hence will bear
Sita who claims all tender care.
I see two coursers fleet as storms,
Of noble breed and lovely forms.
I see the beast of mountain size
Who bears the king our father wise,
The aged Victor, march this way
In front of all the armed array.
But doubt and fear within me rise,
For when I look with eager eyes
I see no white umbrella spread,
World-famous, o’er the royal head.
Now, Lakshman, from the tree descend,
And to my words attention lend.
Thus spoke the pious prince: and he
Descended from the lofty tree,
And reverent hand to hand applied,
Stood humbly by his brother’s side.
The host, compelled by Bharat’s care,
The wood from trampling feet to spare,
Dense crowding half a league each way
Encamped around the mountain lay.
Below the tall hill’s shelving side
Gleamed the bright army far and wide
Spread o’er the ample space,
By Bharat led who firmly true
In duty from his bosom threw
All pride, and near his brother drew
To win the hero’s grace.
Soon as the warriors took their rest
Obeying Bharat’s high behest,
Thus Bharat to Satrughna spake:
‘A band of soldiers with thee take,
And with these hunters o’er and o’er
The thickets of the wood explore.
With bow, sword, arrows in their hands
Let Guba with his kindred bands
Within this grove remaining trace
The children of Kakutstha’s race.
And I meanwhile on foot will through
This neighbouring wood my way pursue,
With elders and the twice-born men,
And every lord and citizen.
There is, I feel, no rest for me
Till Rama’s face again I see,
Lakshman, in arms and glory great,
And Sita born to happy fate:
No rest, until his cheek as bright
As the fair moon rejoice my sight,
No rest until I see the eye
With which the lotus petals vie;
Till on my head those dear feet rest
With signs of royal rank impressed;
None, till my kingly brother gain
His old hereditary reign,
Till o’er his limbs and noble head
The consecrating drops be shed.
How blest is Janak’s daughter, true
To every wifely duty, who
Cleaves faithful to her husband’s side
Whose realm is girt by Ocean’s tide!
This mountain too above the rest
E’en as the King of Hills is blest,—
Whose shades Kakutstha’s scion hold
As Nandan charms the Lord of Gold.
Yea, happy is this tangled grove
Where savage beasts unnumbered rove,
Where, glory of the Warrior race,
King Rama finds a dwelling-place.’
Thus Bharat, strong-armed hero spake,
And walked within the pathless brake.
O’er plains where gay trees bloomed he went,
Through boughs in tangled net-work bent,
And then from Rama’s cot appeared
The banner which the flame upreared.
And Bharat joyed with every friend
To mark those smokv wreaths ascend:
‘Here Rama dwells,’ he thought; 'at last
The ocean of our toil is passed.’
Then sure that Rama’s hermit cot
Was on the mountain’s side
He stayed his army on the spot,
And on with Guha hied.
[ p. 209 ]
‘Then Bharat to Satrughna showed
The spot, and eager onward strode,
First bidding Saint Vasishtha bring
The widowed consorts of the king,
As by fraternal love impelled
His onward course the hero held,
Sumantra followed close behind
Satrughra with an anxious mind:
Not Bharat’s self more fain could be
To look on Rama’s face than he.
As, speeding on, the spot he neared,
Amid the hermits’ homes appeared
His brother’s cot with leaves o’erspread,
And by its side a lowly shed.
Before the shed great heaps were left
Of gathered flowers and billets cleft,
And on the trees hung grass and bark
Rama and Lakshman’s path to mark:
And heaps of fuel to provide
Against the cold stood ready dried.
The long-armed chief, as on he went
In glory’s light preeminent,
With joyous words like these addressed
The brave Satrughna and the rest:
‘This is the place, I little doubt,
Which Bharadvája pointed out,
Not far from where we stand must be
The woodland stream, Mandákini.
Here on the mountain’s woody side
Roam elephants in tusked pride,
And ever with a roar and cry
Each other, as they meet, defy.
And see those smoke-wreaths thick and dark:
The presence of the flame they mark,
Which hermits in the forest strive
By every art to keep alive.
O happy me! my task is done,
And I shall look on Raghu’s son,
Like some great saint, who loves to treat
His elders with all reverence meet.’
Thus Bharat reached that forest rill,
Thus roamed on Chitrakuta’s hill;
Then pity in his breast awoke,
And to his friends the hero spoke:
‘Woe, woe upon my life and birth!
The prince of men, the lord of earth
Has sought the lonely wood to dwell
Sequestered in a hermit’s cell.
Through me, through me these sorrows fall
On him the splendid lord of all:
Through me resigning earthly bliss
He hides him in a home like this.
Now will I, by the world abhorred,
Fall at the dear feet of my lord,
And at fair Sitft’s too, to win
His pardon for my heinous sin.’
As thus he sadly mourned and sighed,
The son of Dasaratha spied
A bower of leafy branches made,
Sacred and lovely in the shade,
Of fair proportions large and tall,
Well roofed with boughs of palm, and Sál,
Arranged in order due o’erhead
Like grass upor an altar spread.
Two glorious bows were gleaming there,
Like Indra’s [10] in the rainy air,
Terror of foemen. backed with gold,
Meet for the mightiest hand to hold:
And quivered arrows cast a blaze
Bright gleaming like the Day-God’s rays:
Thus serpents with their eyes aglow
Adorn their capital below. [11]
Great swords adorned the cottage, laid
Each in a case of gold brocade;
There hung the trusty shields, whereon.
With purest gold the bosses shone.
The brace to bind the bowman’s arm,
The glove to shield his hand from harm,
A lustre to the cottage lent
From many a golden ornament:
Safe was the cot from fear of men
As from wild beasts the lion’s den.
The fire upon the altar burned,
That to the north and east was turned.
Bharat his eager glances bent
And gazed within the cot intent;
In deerskin dress, with matted hair,
Rama his chief was sitting there:
With liou-shl ulders broad and strong,
With lotus eyes, arms thick and long.
The righteous sovereign, who should be
Lord paramount from sea to sea,
High-minded, born to lofty fate,
Like Brahma’s self supremely great;
With Lakshman by his side, and her,
Fair Sita, for his minister.
And Bharat gazing, overcome
By sorrow for a while was dumb,
Then, yielding to his woe, he ran
To Kama and with sobs began:
‘He who a royal seat should fill
With subjects round to do his will,
My elder brother,—see him here,
With silvan creatures waiting near.
The high-souled hero, wont to wear
The costliest robes exceeding fair,
Now banished, in a deerskin dress,
Here keeps the path of righteousness.
How brooks the son of Eaghu now
The matted locks which load his brow,
Around whose princely head were twined
Sweet blossoms of the rarest kind?
The prince whose merits grew, acquired
[ p. 210 ]
By rites performed as he desired,
Would now a store of merit gain
Bought by his body’s toil and pain.
Those limbs to which pure sandal lent
The freshness of its fragrant scent,
Exposed to sun. and dust, and rain,
Are now defiled with many a stain.
And I the wretched cause why this
Falls on the prince whose right is bliss!
Ah me, that ever I was born
To be the people’s hate and scorn!’
Thus Bharat cried: of anguish sprung,
Great drops upon his forehead hung.
He fell o’erpowered-his grief was such-
Ere he is brother’s feet could touch.
As on the glorious prince he gazed
In vain his broken voice he raised:
‘Dear lord’—through tears and sobbing came,
The only words his lips could frame.
And brave Satrughna wept aloud,
As low at Ráma’s feet he bowed.
Then Ráma, while his tears ran fast,
His arms around his brothers cast.
Guha, Sumantra came to meet
The princes in their wild retreat.
Vrihaspati and Sukra bright
Their greeting thus rejoice to pay
To the dear Lord who brings the night,
And the great God who rules the day.
Then wept the dwellers of the shade,
Whose eyes the princes, meet to ride
On mighty elephants, surveyed;
And cast all thought of joy aside.
198:1 Yama, Varuna and Kuvera. ↩︎
198:2 A happy land in the remote north where the inhabitants enjoy a natural pefection attended with complete happiness obtained without exertion. There is there no vicissitude, nor decrepitude, nor death, nor fear: no distinction of virtue and vice, none of the inequalities denoted by the words best, worst, and intermediate, nor any change resulting from the succssion of the four Yugas.’ Sea MUIR’S. Sanskrit Texts, Vol I, p. 402. ↩︎
198:1b The Moon. ↩︎
202:1 These ten lines are a substitution for, and not a translation of the text which Carey and Marshman thus render: ‘This mountain adorned with mango,(1) jumboo,(2) usuna,(3) lodhra, (4) piala, (5) punusa, (6) dhava, (7) p. 203 unkotha, (8) bhuvya,(9) tinisha, (10) vilwa, (11) tindooka, (12) bamboo,(13) kashmaree,(14) urista,(l5) vuruna,(16) madhooka,(17) tilaka, (18) vuduree,(l9) amluka,(20) nipa,(21) vetra,(22) dhunwuna,(23) veejaka,(24) and other trees affording flowers, and fruits, and the most delightful shade, how charming does it appear!’
1 Mangifera Indica. 2 Eugenia Jambolifera, 3 Terminalialata tomentosa. 4 This tree is not ascertained. 5 Chironjia Sapida. 6 Artocarpus integrifolia. 7 Grislea tomentosa. 8 Allangium hexapetalum. 9 Averrhoa carimbola. 10 Dalbergia Oujeinensis. 11 Ægle marmelos. 12 Diospyrus melanoxylon. 13 Well known. 14 Gmelina Arborea. 15 Sapindus Saponaria. 16 Cratoeva tapia. l7 Bassia la tifolia. 18 Not yet ascertained. 19 Zizyphus jujuba. 20 Phyllanthus emblica. 21 Nauclea Orientalis. 22 Calamusrotang. 23 Echites antidysenterica. 34 The citron tree.’ ↩︎
203:1 Vidyadharis, Spirits of Air, sylphs. ↩︎
204:1 Nalini, as here, may be the name of any lake covered with lotuses. ↩︎
204:1b This canto is allowed, by Indian commentators, to be an interpolation. It cannot be the work of Valmiki. ↩︎
205:1 A fine bird with a strong, sweet note, and great imitative powers. ↩︎
207:1 Bauhinea variegata, a species of ebony. ↩︎
209:1 The rainbow is called the bow of Indra. ↩︎
209:2 Bhogavatí, the abode of the Nagas or Serpent race. ↩︎