The Sanskrit Epics

by Delphi Classics

  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 Rishyaśring with eager pace

  Sped forth and hurried to the place

  Where he those visitants had seen

  Of daintly waist and charming mien.

  When from afar they saw the son

  Of Saint Vibháṇdak toward them run,

  To meet the hermit boy they hied,

  And hailed him with a smile, and cried:

  “O come, we pray, dear lord, behold

  Our lovely home of which we told

  Due honour there to thee we’ll pay,

  And speed thee on thy homeward way.”

  Pleased with the gracious words they said

  He followed where the damsels led.

  As with his guides his steps he bent,

  That Bráhman high of worth,

  A flood of rain from heaven was sent

  That gladdened all the earth.

  Vibháṇdak took his homeward road,

  And wearied by the heavy load

  Of roots and woodland fruit he bore

  Entered at last his cottage door.

  Fain for his son he looked around,

  But desolate the cell he found.

  He stayed not then to bathe his feet,

  Though fainting with the toil and heat,

  But hurried forth and roamed about

  Calling the boy with cry and shout,

  He searched the wood, but all in vain;

  Nor tidings of his son could gain.

  One day beyond the forest’s bound

  The wandering saint a village found,

  And asked the swains and neatherds there

  Who owned the land so rich and fair,

  With all the hamlets of the plain,

  And herds of kine and fields of grain.

  They listened to the hermit’s words,

  And all the guardians of the herds,

  With suppliant hands together pressed,

  This answer to the saint addressed:

  “The Angas’ lord who bears the name

  Of Lomapád, renowned by fame,

  Bestowed these hamlets with their kine

  And all their riches, as a sign

  Of grace, on Rishyaśring: and he

  Vibháṇdak’s son is said to be.”

  The hermit with exulting breast

  The mighty will of fate confessed,

  By meditation’s eye discerned;

  And cheerful to his home returned.

  A stately ship, at early morn,

  The hermit’s son away had borne.

  Loud roared the clouds, as on he sped,

  The sky grew blacker overhead;

  Till, as he reached the royal town,

  A mighty flood of rain came down.

  By the great rain the monarch’s mind

  The coming of his guest divined.

  To meet the honoured youth he went,

  And low to earth his head he bent.

  With his own priest to lead the train,

  He gave the gift high guests obtain.

  And sought, with all who dwelt within

  The city walls, his grace to win.

  He fed him with the daintiest fare,

  He served him with unceasing care,

  And ministered with anxious eyes

  Lest anger in his breast should rise;

  And gave to be the Bráhman’s bride

  His own fair daughter, lotus-eyed.

  Thus loved and honoured by the king,

  The glorious Bráhman Rishyaśring

  Passed in that royal town his life

  With Śántá his beloved wife.”

  Canto X. Rishyasring Invited.

  “AGAIN, O BEST of kings, give ear:

  My saving words attentive hear,

  And listen to the tale of old

  By that illustrious Bráhman told.

  “Of famed Ikshváku’s line shall spring

  (’Twas thus he spoke) a pious king,

  Named Daśaratha, good and great,

  True to his word and fortunate.

  He with the Angas’ mighty lord

  Shall ever live in sweet accord,

  And his a daughter fair shall be,

  Śántá of happy destiny.

  But Lomapád, the Angas’ chief,

  Still pining in his childless grief,

  To Daśaratha thus shall say:

  “Give me thy daughter, friend, I pray,

  Thy Śántá of the tranquil mind,

  The noblest one of womankind.”

  The father, swift to feel for woe,

  Shall on his friend his child bestow;

  And he shall take her and depart

  To his own town with joyous heart.

  The maiden home in triumph led,

  To Rishyaśring the king shall wed.

  And he with loving joy and pride

  Shall take her for his honoured bride.

  And Daśaratha to a rite

  That best of Bráhmans shall invite

  With supplicating prayer,

  To celebrate the sacrifice

  To win him sons and Paradise,83

  That he will fain prepare.

  From him the lord of men at length

  The boon he seeks shall gain,

  And see four sons of boundless strength

  His royal line maintain.”

  “Thus did the godlike saint of old

  The will of fate declare,

  And all that should befall unfold

  Amid the sages there.

  O Prince supreme of men, go thou,

  Consult thy holy guide,

  And win, to aid thee in thy vow,

  This Bráhman to thy side.”

  Sumantra’s counsel, wise and good,

  King Daśaratha heard,

  Then by Vaśishṭha’s side he stood

  And thus with him conferred:

  “Sumantra counsels thus: do thou

  My priestly guide, the plan allow.”

  Vaśishṭha gave his glad consent,

  And forth the happy monarch went

  With lords and servants on the road

  That led to Rishyaśring’s abode.

  Forests and rivers duly past,

  He reached the distant town at last

  Of Lomapád the Angas’ king,

  And entered it with welcoming.

  On through the crowded streets he came,

  And, radiant as the kindled flame,

  He saw within the monarch’s house

  The hermit’s son most glorious.

  There Lomapád, with joyful breast,

  To him all honour paid,

  For friendship for his royal guest

  His faithful bosom swayed.

  Thus entertained with utmost care

  Seven days, or eight, he tarried there,

  And then that best of men thus broke

  His purpose to the king, and spoke:

  “O King of men, mine ancient friend,

  (Thus Daśaratha prayed)

  Thy Śántá with her husband send

  My sacrifice to aid.”

  Said he who ruled the Angas, Yea,

  And his consent was won:

  And then at once he turned away

  To warn the hermit’s son.

  He told him of their ties beyond

  Their old affection’s faithful bond:

  “This king,” he said, “from days of old

  A well beloved friend I hold.

  To me this pearl of dames he gave

  From childless woe mine age to save,

  The daughter whom he loved so much,

  Moved by compassion’s gentle touch
.

  In him thy Śántás father see:

  As I am even so is he.

  For sons the childless monarch yearns:

  To thee alone for help he turns.

  Go thou, the sacred rite ordain

  To win the sons he prays to gain:

  Go, with thy wife thy succour lend,

  And give his vows a blissful end.”

  The hermit’s son with quick accord

  Obeyed the Angas’ mighty lord,

  And with fair Śántá at his side

  To Daśaratha’s city hied.

  Each king, with suppliant hands upheld,

  Gazed on the other’s face:

  And then by mutual love impelled

  Met in a close embrace.

  Then Daśaratha’s thoughtful care,

  Before he parted thence,

  Bade trusty servants homeward bear

  The glad intelligence:

  “Let all the town be bright and gay

  With burning incense sweet;

  Let banners wave, and water lay

  The dust in every street.”

  Glad were the citizens to learn

  The tidings of their lord’s return,

  And through the city every man

  Obediently his task began.

  And fair and bright Ayodhyá showed,

  As following his guest he rode

  Through the full streets where shell and drum

  Proclaimed aloud the king was come.

  And all the people with delight

  Kept gazing on their king,

  Attended by that youth so bright,

  The glorious Rishyaśring.

  When to his home the king had brought

  The hermit’s saintly son,

  He deemed that all his task was wrought,

  And all he prayed for won.

  And lords who saw that stranger dame

  So beautiful to view,

  Rejoiced within their hearts, and came

  And paid her honour too.

  There Rishyaśring passed blissful days,

  Graced like the king with love and praise

  And shone in glorious light with her,

  Sweet Śántá, for his minister,

  As Brahmá’s son Vaśishṭha, he

  Who wedded Saint Arundhatí.84

  Canto XI. The Sacrifice Decreed.

  The Dewy Season85 came and went;

  The spring returned again:

  Then would the king, with mind intent,

  His sacrifice ordain.

  He came to Rishyaśring, and bowed

  To him of look divine,

  And bade him aid his offering vowed

  For heirs, to save his line.

  Nor would the youth his aid deny:

  He spake the monarch fair,

  And prayed him for that rite so high

  All requisites prepare.

  The king to wise Sumantra cried

  Who stood aye ready near;

  “Go summon quick each holy guide,

  To counsel and to hear.”

  Obedient to his lord’s behest

  Away Sumantra sped,

  And brought Vaśishṭha and the rest,

  In Scripture deeply read.

  Suyajǹa, Vámadeva came,

  Jávali, Kaśyap’s son,

  And old Vaśishṭha, dear to fame,

  Obedient every one.

  King Daśaratha met them there

  And duly honoured each,

  And spoke in pleasant words his fair

  And salutary speech:

  “In childless longing doomed to pine,

  No happiness, O lords, is mine.

  So have I for this cause decreed

  To slay the sacrificial steed.

  Fain would I pay that offering high

  Wherein the horse is doomed to die,

  With Rishyaśring his aid to lend,

  And with your glory to befriend.”

  With loud applause each holy man

  Received his speech, approved the plan,

  And, by the wise Vaśishṭha led,

  Gave praises to the king, and said:

  “The sons thou cravest shalt thou see,

  Of fairest glory, born to thee,

  Whose holy feelings bid thee take

  This righteous course for offspring’s sake.”

  Cheered by the ready praise of those

  Whose aid he sought, his spirits rose,

  And thus the king his speech renewed

  With looks of joy and gratitude:

  “Let what the coming rites require

  Be ready as the priests desire,

  And let the horse, ordained to bleed,

  With fitting guard and priest, be freed,86

  Yonder on Sarjú’s northern side

  The sacrificial ground provide;

  And let the saving rites, that naught

  Ill-omened may occur, be wrought.

  The offering I announce to-day

  Each lord of earth may claim to pay,

  Provided that his care can guard

  The holy rite by flaws unmarred.

  For wandering fiends, whose watchful spite

  Waits eagerly to spoil each rite,

  Hunting with keenest eye detect

  The slightest slip, the least neglect;

  And when the sacred work is crossed

  The workman is that moment lost.

  Let preparation due be made:

  Your powers the charge can meet:

  That so the noble rite be paid

  In every point complete.”

  And all the Bráhmans answered, Yea,

  His mandate honouring,

  And gladly promised to obey

  The order of the king.

  They cried with voices raised aloud:

  “Success attend thine aim!”

  Then bade farewell, and lowly bowed,

  And hastened whence they came.

  King Daśaratha went within,

  His well loved wives to see:

  And said: “Your lustral rites begin,

  For these shall prosper me.

  A glorious offering I prepare

  That precious fruit of sons may bear.”

  Their lily faces brightened fast

  Those pleasant words to hear,

  As lilies, when the winter’s past,

  In lovelier hues appear.

  Canto XII. The Sacrifice Begun.

  AGAIN THE SPRING with genial heat

  Returning made the year complete.

  To win him sons, without delay

  His vow the king resolved to pay:

  And to Vaśishṭha, saintly man,

  In modest words this speech began:

  “Prepare the rite with all things fit

  As is ordained in Holy Writ,

  And keep with utmost care afar

  Whate’er its sacred forms might mar.

  Thou art, my lord, my trustiest guide,

  Kind-hearted, and my friend beside;

  So is it meet thou undertake

  This heavy task for duty’s sake.”

  Then he, of twice-born men the best,

  His glad assent at once expressed:

  “Fain will I do whate’er may be

  Desired, O honoured King, by thee.”

  To ancient priests he spoke, who, trained

  In holy rites, deep skill had gained:

  “Here guards be stationed, good and sage

  Religious men of trusted age.

  And various workmen send and call,

  Who frame the door and build the wall:

  With men of every art and trade,

  Who read the stars and ply the spade,

  And mimes and minstrels hither bring,

  And damsels trained to dance and sing.”

  Then to the learned men he said,

  In many a page of Scripture read:

  “Be yours each rite performed to see

  According to the king
’s decree.

  And stranger Bráhmans quickly call

  To this great rite that welcomes all.

  Pavilions for the princes, decked

  With art and ornament, erect,

  And handsome booths by thousands made

  The Bráhman visitors to shade,

  Arranged in order side by side,

  With meat and drink and all supplied.

  And ample stables we shall need

  For many an elephant and steed:

  And chambers where the men may lie,

  And vast apartments, broad and high,

  Fit to receive the countless bands

  Of warriors come from distant lands.

  For our own people too provide

  Sufficient tents, extended wide,

  And stores of meat and drink prepare,

  And all that can be needed there.

  And food in plenty must be found

  For guests from all the country round.

  Of various viands presents make,

  For honour, not for pity’s sake,

  That fit regard and worship be

  Paid to each caste in due degree.

  And let not wish or wrath excite

  Your hearts the meanest guest to slight;

  But still observe with special grace

  Those who obtain the foremost place,

  Whether for happier skill in art

  Or bearing in the rite their part.

  Do you, I pray, with friendly mind

  Perform the task to you assigned,

  And work the rite, as bids the law,

  Without omission, slip, or flaw”

  They answered: “As thou seest fit

  So will we do and naught omit.”

  The sage Vaśiṣṭha then addressed

  Sumantra called at his behest:

  “The princes of the earth invite,

  And famous lords who guard the rite,

  Priest, Warrior, Merchant, lowly thrall,

  In countless thousands summon all.

  Where’er their home be, far or near,

  Gather the good with honour here,

  And Janak, whose imperial sway

  The men of Míthilá87 obey.

  The firm of vow, the dread of foes,

  Who all the lore of Scripture knows,

  Invite him here with honour high,

  King Daśaratha’s old ally.

  And Káśi’s88 lord of gentle speech,

  Who finds a pleasant word for each,

  In length of days our monarch’s peer,

  Illustrious king, invite him here.

  The father of our ruler’s bride,

  Known for his virtues far and wide,

  The king whom Kekaya’s89 realms obey,

  Him with his son invite, I pray.

  And Lomapád the Angas’ king,

  True to his vows and godlike, bring.

  For be thine invitations sent

  To west and south and orient.