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The Sanskrit Epics

Page 29

by Delphi Classics


  The white umbrella overhead

  A pale and moonlike lustre shed,

  Wont in pure splendour to precede,

  And in such rites the pomp to lead.

  There stood the charger by the side

  Of the great bull of snow-white hide;

  There was all music soft and loud,

  And bards and minstrels swelled the crowd.

  For now the monarch bade combine

  Each custom of his ancient line

  With every rite Ayodhyá’s state

  Observed, her kings to consecrate.

  Then, summoned by the king’s behest,

  The multitudes together pressed,

  And, missing still the royal sire,

  Began, impatient, to inquire:

  “Who to our lord will tidings bear

  That all his people throng the square?

  Where is the king? the sun is bright,

  And all is ready for the rite.”

  As thus they spoke, Sumantra, tried

  In counsel, to the chiefs replied,

  Gathered from lands on every side:

  “To Ráma’s house I swiftly drave,

  For so the king his mandate gave.

  Our aged lord and Ráma too

  In honour high hold all of you:

  I in your words (be long your days!)

  Will ask him why he thus delays.”

  Thus spoke the peer in Scripture read,

  And to the ladies’ bower he sped.

  Quick through the gates Sumantra hied,

  Which access ne’er to him denied.

  Behind the curtained screen he drew,

  Which veiled the chamber from the view.

  In benediction loud he raised

  His voice, and thus the monarch praised:

  “Sun, Moon, Kuvera, Śiva bless

  Kakutstha’s son with high success!

  The Lords of air, flood, fire decree

  The victory, my King, to thee!

  The holy night has past away,

  Auspicious shines the morning’s ray.

  Rise, Lord of men, thy part to take

  In the great rite. Awake! awake!

  Bráhmans and captains, chiefs of trade,

  All wait in festive garb arrayed;

  For thee they look with eager eyes:

  O Raghu’s son, awake! arise.”

  To him in holy Scripture read,

  Who hailed him thus, the monarch said,

  Upraising from his sleep his head:

  “Go, Ráma, hither lead as thou

  Wast ordered by the queen but now.

  Come, tell me why my mandate laid

  Upon thee thus is disobeyed.

  Away! and Ráma hither bring;

  I sleep not: make no tarrying.”

  Thus gave the king command anew:

  Sumantra from his lord withdrew;

  With head in lowly reverence bent,

  And filled with thoughts of joy, he went.

  The royal street he traversed, where

  Waved flag and pennon to the air,

  And, as with joy the car he drove,

  He let his eyes delighted rove.

  On every side, where’er he came,

  He heard glad words, their theme the same,

  As in their joy the gathered folk

  Of Ráma and the throning spoke.

  Then saw he Ráma’s palace bright

  And vast as Mount Kailása’s height,

  That glorious in its beauty showed

  As Indra’s own supreme abode:

  With folding doors both high and wide;

  With hundred porches beautified:

  Where golden statues towering rose

  O’er gemmed and coralled porticoes.

  Bright like a cave in Meru’s side,

  Or clouds through Autumn’s sky that ride:

  Festooned with length of bloomy twine,

  Flashing with pearls and jewels’ shine,

  While sandal-wood and aloe lent

  The mingled riches of their scent;

  With all the odorous sweets that fill

  The breezy heights of Dardar’s hill.

  There by the gate the Sáras screamed,

  And shrill-toned peacocks’ plumage gleamed.

  Its floors with deftest art inlaid,

  Its sculptured wolves in gold arrayed,

  With its bright sheen the palace took

  The mind of man and chained the look,

  For like the sun and moon it glowed,

  And mocked Kuvera’s loved abode.

  Circling the walls a crowd he viewed

  Who stood in reverent attitude,

  With throngs of countrymen who sought

  Acceptance of the gifts they brought.

  The elephant was stationed there,

  Appointed Ráma’s self to bear;

  Adorned with pearls, his brow and cheek

  Were sandal-dyed in many a streak,

  While he, in stature, bulk, and pride,

  With Indra’s own Airávat280 vied.

  Sumantra, borne by coursers fleet,

  Flashing a radiance o’er the street,

  To Ráma’s palace flew,

  And all who lined the royal road,

  Or thronged the prince’s rich abode,

  Rejoiced as near he drew.

  And with delight his bosom swelled

  As onward still his course he held

  Through many a sumptuous court

  Like Indra’s palace nobly made,

  Where peacocks revelled in the shade,

  And beasts of silvan sort.

  Through many a hall and chamber wide,

  That with Kailása’s splendour vied.

  Or mansions of the Blest,

  While Ráma’s friends, beloved and tried,

  Before his coming stepped aside,

  Still on Sumantra pressed.

  He reached the chamber door, where stood

  Around his followers young and good,

  Bard, minstrel, charioteer,

  Well skilled the tuneful chords to sweep,

  With soothing strain to lull to sleep,

  Or laud their master dear.

  Then, like a dolphin darting through

  Unfathomed depths of ocean’s blue

  With store of jewels decked,

  Through crowded halls that rock-like rose,

  Or as proud hills where clouds repose,

  Sumantra sped unchecked —

  Halls like the glittering domes on high

  Reared for the dwellers of the sky

  By heavenly architect.

  Canto XVI. Ráma Summoned.

  SO THROUGH THE crowded inner door

  Sumantra, skilled in ancient lore,

  On to the private chambers pressed

  Which stood apart from all the rest.

  There youthful warriors, true and bold,

  Whose ears were ringed with polished gold,

  All armed with trusty bows and darts,

  Watched with devoted eyes and hearts.

  And hoary men, a faithful train,

  Whose aged hands held staves of cane,

  The ladies’ guard, apparelled fair

  In red attire, were stationed there.

  Soon as they saw Sumantra nigh,

  Each longed his lord to gratify,

  And from his seat beside the door

  Up sprang each ancient servitor.

  Then to the warders quickly cried

  The skilled Sumantra, void of pride:

  “Tell Ráma that the charioteer

  Sumantra waits for audience here.”

  The ancient men with one accord

  Seeking the pleasure of their lord,

  Passing with speed the chamber door

  To Ráma’s ear the message bore.

  Forthwith the prince with duteous heed

  Called in the messenger with speed,

  For ’twas his sire’s command, he knew,
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  That sent him for the interview.

  Like Lord Kuvera, well arrayed,

  He pressed a couch of gold,

  Wherefrom a covering of brocade

  Hung down in many a fold.

  Oil and the sandal’s fragrant dust

  Had tinged his body o’er

  Dark as the stream the spearman’s thrust

  Drains from the wounded boar.

  Him Sítá watched with tender care,

  A chouri in her hand,

  As Chitrá,281 ever fond in fair,

  Beside the Moon will stand.

  Him glorious with unborrowed light,

  A liberal lord, of sunlike might,

  Sumantra hailed in words like these,

  Well skilled in gentle courtesies,

  As, with joined hands in reverence raised,

  Upon the beauteous prince he gazed:

  “Happy Kauśalyá! Blest is she,

  The Mother of a son like thee.

  Now rise, O Ráma, speed away.

  Go to thy sire without delay:

  For he and Queen Kaikeyí seek

  An interview with thee to speak.”

  The lion-lord of men, the best

  Of splendid heroes, thus addressed,

  To Sítá spake with joyful cheer:

  “The king and queen, my lady dear,

  Touching the throning, for my sake

  Some salutary counsel take.

  The lady of the full black eye

  Would fain her husband gratify,

  And, all his purpose understood,

  Counsels the monarch to my good.

  A happy fate is mine, I ween,

  When he, consulting with his queen,

  Sumantra on this charge, intent

  Upon my gain and good, has sent.

  An envoy of so noble sort

  Well suits the splendour of the court.

  The consecration rite this day

  Will join me in imperial sway.

  To meet the lord of earth, for so

  His order bids me, I will go.

  Thou, lady, here in comfort stay,

  And with thy maidens rest or play.”

  Thus Ráma spake. For meet reply

  The lady of the large black eye

  Attended to the door her lord,

  And blessings on his head implored:

  “The majesty and royal state

  Which holy Bráhmans venerate,

  The consecration and the rite

  Which sanctifies the ruler’s might,

  And all imperial powers should be

  Thine by thy father’s high decree,

  As He, the worlds who formed and planned,

  The kingship gave to Indra’s hand.

  Then shall mine eyes my king adore

  When lustral rites and fast are o’er,

  And black deer’s skin and roebuck’s horn

  Thy lordly limbs and hand adorn.

  May He whose hands the thunder wield

  Be in the east thy guard and shield;

  May Yáma’s care the south befriend,

  And Varuṇ’s arm the west defend;

  And let Kuvera, Lord of Gold,

  The north with firm protection hold.”

  Then Ráma spoke a kind farewell,

  And hailed the blessings as they fell

  From Sítá’s gentle lips; and then,

  As a young lion from his den

  Descends the mountain’s stony side,

  So from the hall the hero hied.

  First Lakshmaṇ at the door he viewed

  Who stood in reverent attitude,

  Then to the central court he pressed

  Where watched the friends who loved him best.

  To all his dear companions there

  He gave kind looks and greeting fair.

  On to the lofty car that glowed

  Like fire the royal tiger strode.

  Bright as himself its silver shone:

  A tiger’s skin was laid thereon.

  With cloudlike thunder, as it rolled,

  It flashed with gems and burnished gold,

  And, like the sun’s meridian blaze,

  Blinded the eye that none could gaze.

  Like youthful elephants, tall and strong,

  Fleet coursers whirled the car along:

  In such a car the Thousand-eyed

  Borne by swift horses loves to ride.

  So like Parjanya,282 when he flies

  Thundering through the autumn skies,

  The hero from the palace sped,

  As leaves the moon some cloud o’erhead.

  Still close to Ráma Lakshmaṇ kept,

  Behind him to the car he leapt,

  And, watching with fraternal care,

  Waved the long chouri’s silver hair,

  As from the palace gate he came

  Up rose the tumult of acclaim.

  While loud huzza and jubilant shout

  Pealed from the gathered myriads out.

  Then elephants, like mountains vast,

  And steeds who all their kind surpassed,

  Followed their lord by hundreds, nay

  By thousands, led in long array.

  First marched a band of warriors trained,

  With sandal dust and aloe stained;

  Well armed was each with sword and bow,

  And every breast with hope aglow,

  And ever, as they onward went,

  Shouts from the warrior train,

  And every sweet-toned instrument

  Prolonged the minstrel strain.

  On passed the tamer of his foes,

  While well clad dames, in crowded rows,

  Each chamber lattice thronged to view,

  And chaplets on the hero threw.

  Then all, of peerless face and limb,

  Sang Ráma’s praise for love of him,

  And blent their voices, soft and sweet,

  From palace high and crowded street:

  “Now, sure, Kauśalyá’s heart must swell

  To see the son she loves so well,

  Thee Ráma, thee, her joy and pride,

  Triumphant o’er the realm preside.”

  Then — for they knew his bride most fair

  Of all who part the soft dark hair,

  His love, his life, possessed the whole

  Of her young hero’s heart and soul: —

  “Be sure the lady’s fate repays

  Some mighty vow of ancient days,283

  For blest with Ráma’s love is she

  As, with the Moon’s, sweet Rohiní.”284

  Such were the witching words that came

  From lips of many a peerless dame

  Crowding the palace roofs to greet

  The hero as he gained the street.

  Canto XVII. Ráma’s Approach.

  AS RÁMA, RENDERING blithe and gay

  His loving friends, pursued his way,

  He saw on either hand a press

  Of mingled people numberless.

  The royal street he traversed, where

  Incense of aloe filled the air,

  Where rose high palaces, that vied

  With paly clouds, on either side;

  With flowers of myriad colours graced.

  And food for every varied taste,

  Bright as the glowing path o’erhead

  Which feet of Gods celestial tread,

  Loud benedictions, sweet to hear,

  From countless voices soothed his ear.

  While he to each gave due salute

  His place and dignity to suit:

  “Be thou,” the joyful people cried,

  “Be thou our guardian, lord and guide.

  Throned and anointed king to-day,

  Thy feet set forth upon the way

  Wherein, each honoured as a God,

  Thy fathers and forefathers trod.

  Thy sire and his have graced the throne,

  And loving care to us have shown:
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  Thus blest shall we and ours remain,

  Yea still more blest in Ráma’s reign.

  No more of dainty fare we need,

  And but one cherished object heed,

  That we may see our prince today

  Invested with imperial sway.”

  Such were the words and pleasant speech

  That Ráma heard, unmoved, from each

  Of the dear friends around him spread,

  As onward through the street he sped,

  For none could turn his eye or thought

  From the dear form his glances sought,

  With fruitless ardour forward cast

  Even when Raghu’s son had past.

  And he who saw not Ráma nigh,

  Nor caught a look from Ráma’s eye,

  A mark for scorn and general blame,

  Reproached himself in bitter shame.

  For to each class his equal mind

  With sympathy and love inclined

  Most fully of the princely four,

  So greatest love to him they bore.

  His circling course the hero bent

  Round shrine and altar, reverent,

  Round homes of Gods, where cross-roads met,

  Where many a sacred tree was set.

  Near to his father’s house he drew

  Like Indra’s beautiful to view,

  And with the light his glory gave

  Within the royal palace drave.

  Through three broad courts, where bowmen kept

  Their watch and ward, his coursers swept,

  Then through the two remaining went

  On foot the prince preëminent.

  Through all the courts the hero passed,

  And gained the ladies’ bower at last;

  Then through the door alone withdrew,

  And left without his retinue.

  When thus the monarch’s noble boy

  Had gone his sire to meet,

  The multitude, elate with joy,

  Stood watching in the street,

  And his return with eager eyes

  Expected at the gates,

  As for his darling moon to rise

  The King of Rivers285 waits.

  Canto XVIII. The Sentence.

  WITH HOPELESS EYE and pallid mien

  There sat the monarch with the queen.

  His father’s feet with reverence due

  He clasped, and touched Kaikeyí’s too.

  The king, with eyes still brimming o’er,

  Cried Ráma! and could do no more.

  His voice was choked, his eye was dim,

  He could not speak or look on him.

  Then sudden fear made Ráma shake

  As though his foot had roused a snake,

  Soon as his eyes had seen the change

  So mournful, terrible, and strange.

  For there his reason well-nigh fled,

  Sighing, with soul disquieted,

  To torturing pangs a prey,

 

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