The Ramayana Part 123

Again I promise and declare, Yea, by my truth, dear friend, I swear."

Then glad was King Sugriva's breast, And all his lords their joy confessed, Stirred by sure hope of Rama's aid, And promise which the prince had made.

Canto VIII. Rama's Promise.

Doubt from Sugriva's heart had fled, And thus to Raghu's son he said: "No bliss the G.o.ds of heaven deny.

Each views me with a favouring eye, When thou, whom all good gifts attend, Hast sought me and become my friend.

Leagued, friend, with thee in bold emprise My arm might win the conquered skies; And shall our banded strength be weak To gain the realm which now I seek?

A happy fate was mine above My kith and kin and all I love, When, near the witness fire, I won Thy friends.h.i.+p, Raghu's glorious son.

Thou too in ripening time shall see Thy friend not all unworthy thee.

What gifts I have shall thus be shown: Not mine the tongue to make them known.

Strong is the changeless bond that binds The friendly faith of n.o.ble minds, In woe, in danger, firm and sure Their constancy and love endure.

Gold, silver, jewels rich and rare They count as wealth for friends to share.

Yea, be they rich or poor and low, Blest with all joys or sunk in woe, Stained with each fault or pure of blame, Their friends the nearest place may claim; For whom they leave, at friends.h.i.+p's call, Their gold, their bliss, their homes and all."

He spoke by generous impulse moved, And Raghu's son his speech approved Glancing at Lakshma? by his side, Like Indra in his beauty's pride.

The Vanar monarch saw the pair Of mighty brothers standing there, And turned his rapid eye to view The forest trees that near him grew.

He saw, not far from where he stood, A Sal tree towering o'er the wood.

Amid the thick leaves many a bee Graced the scant blossoms of the tree, From whose dark shade a bough, that bore A load of leafy twigs, he tore, Which on the gra.s.sy ground he laid And seats for him and Rama made.

Hanuman saw them sit, he sought A Sal tree's leafy bough and brought The burthen, and with meek request Entreated Lakshma?, too, to rest.

There on the n.o.ble mountain's brow, Strewn with the young leaves of the bough, Sat Raghu's son in placid ease Calm as the sea when sleeps the breeze.

Sugriva's heart with rapture swelled, And thus, by eager love impelled, He spoke in gracious tone, that, oft Checked by his joy, was low and soft: "I, by my brother's might oppressed, By ceaseless woe and fear distressed, Mourning my consort far away, On Rishyamuka's mountain stray.

Expelled by Bali's cruel hate I wander here disconsolate.

Do thou to whom all sufferers flee, From his dread hand deliver me."

He spoke, and Rama, just and brave, Whose pious soul to virtue clave, Smiled as in conscious might he eyed The king of Vanars, and replied: "Best fruit of friends.h.i.+p is the deed That helps the friend in hour of need; And this mine arm in death shall lay Thy robber ere the close of day.

For see, these feathered darts of mine Whose points so fiercely flash and s.h.i.+ne, And shafts with golden emblem, came From dark woods known by Skanda's name,(561) Winged from the pinion of the hern Like Indra's bolts they strike and burn.

With even knots and piercing head Each like a furious snake is sped; With these, to-day, before thine eye Shall, like a shattered mountain, lie Bali, thy dread and wicked foe, O'erwhelmed in hideous overthrow."

He spoke: Sugriva's bosom swelled With hope and joy unparalleled.

Then his glad voice the Vanar raised, And thus the son of Raghu praised: "Long have I pined in depth of grief; Thou art the hope of all, O chief.

Now, Raghu's son, I hail thee friend, And bid thee to my woes attend; For, by my truth I swear it, now Not life itself is dear as thou, Since by the witness fire we met And friendly hand in hand was set.

Friend communes now with friend, and hence I tell with surest confidence, How woes that on my spirit weigh Consume me through the night and day."

For sobs and sighs he scarce could speak, And his sad voice came low and weak, As, while his eyes with tears o'erflowed, The burden of his soul he showed.

Then by strong effort, bravely made, The torrent of his tears he stayed, Wiped his bright eyes, his grief subdued, And thus, more calm, his speech renewed:

"By Bali's conquering might oppressed, Of power and kings.h.i.+p dispossessed, Loaded with taunts of scorn and hate I left my realm and royal state.

He tore away my consort: she Was dearer than my life to me, And many a friend to me and mine In hopeless chains was doomed to pine.

With wicked thoughts, unsated still, Me whom he wrongs he yearns to kill; And spies of Vanar race, who tried To slay me, by this hand have died.

Moved by this constant doubt and fear I saw thee, Prince, and came not near.

When woe and peril gather round A foe in every form is found.

Save Hanuman, O Raghu's son, And these, no friend is left me, none.

Through their kind aid, a faithful band Who guard their lord from hostile hand, Rest when their chieftain rests and bend Their steps where'er he lists to wend,- Through them alone, in toil and pain, My wretched life I still sustain.

Enough, for thou hast heard in brief The story of my pain and grief.

His mighty strength all regions know, My brother, but my deadly foe.

Ah, if the proud oppressor fell, His death would all my woe dispel.

Yea, on my cruel conqueror's fall My joy depends, my life, my all.

This were the end and sure relief, O Rama, of my tale of grief.

Fair be his lot or dark with woe, No comfort like a friend I know."

Then Rama spoke: "O friend, relate Whence sprang fraternal strife and hate, That duly taught by thee, I may Each foeman's strength and weakness weigh: And skilled in every chance restore The blissful state thou hadst before.

For, when I think of all the scorn And bitter woe thou long hast borne, My soul indignant swells with pain Like waters flushed with furious rain.

Then, ere I string this bended bow, Tell me the tale I long to know, Ere from the cord my arrow fly, And low in death thy foeman lie."

He spoke: Sugriva joyed to hear, Nor less his lords were glad of cheer: And thus to Rama mighty-souled The cause that moved their strife he told:

Canto IX. Sugriva's Story.(562)

"My brother, known by Bali's name, Had won by might a conqueror's fame.

My father's eldest-born was he, Well honoured by his sire and me.

My father died, and each sage lord Named Bali king with one accord; And he, by right of birth ordained, The sovereign of the Vanars reigned.

He in his royal place controlled The kingdom of our sires of old, And I all faithful service lent To aid my brother's government.

The fiend Mayavi,-him of yore To Dundubhi(563) his mother bore,- For woman's love in strife engaged, A deadly war with Bali waged.

When sleep had chained each weary frame To vast Kishkindha(564) gates he came, And, shouting through the shades of night, Challenged his foeman to the fight.

My brother heard the furious shout, And wild with rage rushed madly out, Though fain would I and each sad wife Detain him from the deadly strife.

He burned his demon foe to slay, And rushed impetuous to the fray.

His weeping wives he thrust aside, And forth, impelled by fury, hied; While, by my love and duty led, I followed where my brother sped.

Mayavi looked, and at the sight Fled from his foes in wild affright.

The flying fiend we quickly viewed, And with swift feet his steps pursued.

Then rose the moon, whose friendly ray Cast light upon our headlong way.

By the soft beams was dimly shown A mighty cave with gra.s.s o'ergrown.

Within its depths he sprang, and we The demon's form no more might see.

My brother's breast was all aglow With fury when he missed the foe, And, turning, thus to me he said With senses all disquieted: "Here by the cavern's mouth remain; Keep ear and eye upon the strain, While I the dark recess explore And dip my brand in foeman's gore."

I heard his angry speech, and tried To turn him from his plan aside.

He made me swear by both his feet, And sped within the dark retreat.

While in the cave he stayed, and I Watched at the mouth, a year went by.

For his return I looked in vain, And, moved by love, believed him slain.

I mourned, by doubt and fear distressed, And greater horror seized my breast When from the cavern rolled a flood, A carnage stream of froth and blood; And from the depths a sound of fear, The roar of demons, smote mine ear; But never rang my brother's shout Triumphant in the battle rout.

I closed the cavern with a block, Huge as a hill, of shattered rock.

Gave offerings due to Bali's shade, And sought Kishkindha, sore dismayed.

Long time with anxious care I tried From Bali's lords his fate to hide, But they, when once the tale was known, Placed me as king on Bali's throne.

There for a while I justly reigned And all with equal care ordained, When joyous from the demon slain My brother Bali came again.

He found me ruling in his stead, And, fired with rage, his eyes grew red.

He slew the lords who made me king, And spoke keen words to taunt and sting.

The kingly rank and power I held My brother's rage with ease had quelled, But still, restrained by old respect For claims of birth, the thought I checked.

Thus having struck the demon down Came Bali to his royal town.

With meek respect, with humble speech, His haughty heart I strove to reach.

But all my arts were tried in vain, No gentle word his lips would deign, Though to the ground I bent and set His feet upon my coronet: Still Bali in his rage and pride All signs of grace and love denied."