The Ramayana Part 188

To mine own sins the blame impute, For as we sow we reap the fruit.

The tyrant's will these dames obeyed When their fierce threats my soul dismayed."

She ceased: with admiration moved The Vanar chief her words approved: "Thy speech," he cried, "is worthy one Whom love has linked to Raghu's son.

Now speak, O Queen, that I may know Thy pleasure, for to him I go."

The Vanar ceased: then Janak's child Made answer as she sweetly smiled: "'My first, my only wish can be, O chief, my loving lord to see."

Again the Vanar envoy spoke, And with his words new rapture woke: "Queen, ere this sun shall cease to s.h.i.+ne Thy Rama's eyes shall look in thine.

Again the lord of Raghu's race Shall turn to thee his moon-bright face.

His faithful brother shall thou see And every friend who fought for thee, And greet once more thy king restored Like Sachi(1014) to her heavenly lord."

To Raghu's son his steps he bent And told the message that she sent.

Canto CXVI. The Meeting.

He looked upon that archer chief Whose full eye mocked the lotus leaf, And thus the n.o.ble Vanar spake: "Now meet the queen for whose dear sake Thy mighty task was first begun, And now the glorious fruit is won.

O'erwhelmed with woe thy lady lies, The hot tears streaming from her eyes.

And still the queen must long and pine Until those eyes be turned to thine."

But Rama stood in pensive mood, And gathering tears his eyes bedewed.

His sad looks sought the ground: he sighed And thus to King Vibhisha? cried: "Let Sita bathe and tire her head And hither to my sight be led In raiment sweet with precious scent, And gay with golden ornament."

The Rakshas king his palace sought, And Sita from her bower was brought.

Then Rakshas bearers tall and strong, Selected from the menial throng, Through Lanka's gate the queen, arrayed In glorious robes and gems, conveyed.

Concealed behind the silken screen, Swift to the plain they bore the queen, While Vanars, close on every side, With eager looks the litter eyed.

The warders at Vibhisha?'s hest The onward rus.h.i.+ng throng repressed, While like the roar of ocean loud Rose the wild murmur of the crowd.

The son of Raghu saw and moved With anger thus the king reproved: "Why vex with hasty blow and threat The Vanars, and my rights forget?

Repress this zeal, untimely shown: I count this people as mine own.

A woman's guard is not her bower, The lofty wall, the fenced tower: Her conduct is her best defence, And not a king's magnificence.

At holy rites, in war and woe, Her face unveiled a dame may show; When at the Maiden's Choice(1015) they meet, When marriage troops parade the street.

And she, my queen, who long has lain In prison racked with care and pain, May cease a while her face to hide, For is not Rama by her side?

Lay down the litter: on her feet Let Sita come her lord to meet.

And let the hosts of woodland race Look near upon the lady's face."

Then Lakshma? and each Vanar chief Who heard his words were filled with grief.

The lady's gentle spirit sank, And from each eye in fear she shrank, As, her sweet eyelids veiled for shame, Slowly before her lord she came.

While rapture battled with surprise She raised to his her wistful eyes.

Then with her doubt and fear she strove, And from her breast all sorrow drove.

Regardless of the gathering crowd, Bright as the moon without a cloud, She bent her eyes, no longer dim, In joy and trusting love on him.

Canto CXVII. Sita's Disgrace.

He saw her trembling by his side, And looked upon her face and cried: "Lady, at length my task is done, And thou, the prize of war, art won, This arm my glory has retrieved, And all that man might do achieved; The insulting foe in battle slain And cleared mine honour from its stain.

This day has made my name renowned And with success my labour crowned.

Lord of myself, the oath I swore Is binding on my soul no more.

If from my home my queen was reft, This arm has well avenged the theft, And in the field has wiped away The blot that on mine honour lay.

The bridge that spans the foaming flood, The city red with giants' blood; The hosts by King Sugriva led Who wisely counselled, fought and bled; Vibhisha?'s love, our guide and stay- All these are crowned with fruit to-day.

But, lady, 'twas not love for thee That led mine army o'er the sea.

'Twas not for thee our blood was shed, Or Lanka filled with giant dead.

No fond affection for my wife Inspired me in the hour of strife.

I battled to avenge the cause Of honour and insulted laws.

My love is fled, for on thy fame Lies the dark blot of sin and shame; And thou art hateful as the light That flashes on the injured sight.

The world is all before thee: flee: Go where thou wilt, but not with me.

How should my home receive again A mistress soiled with deathless stain?

How should I brook the foul disgrace, Scorned by my friends and all my race?

For Rava? bore thee through the sky, And fixed on thine his evil eye.

About thy waist his arms he threw, Close to his breast his captive drew, And kept thee, va.s.sal of his power, An inmate of his ladies' bower."

Canto CXVIII. Sita's Reply.

Struck down with overwhelming shame She shrank within her trembling frame.

Each word of Rama's like a dart Had pierced the lady to the heart; And from her sweet eyes unrestrained The torrent of her sorrows, rained.

Her weeping eyes at length she dried, And thus mid choking sobs replied: "Canst thou, a high-born prince, dismiss A high-born dame with speech like this?

Such words befit the meanest hind, Not princely birth and generous mind, By all my virtuous life I swear I am not what thy words declare.

If some are faithless, wilt thou find No love and truth in womankind?

Doubt others if thou wilt, but own The truth which all my life has shown.

If, when the giant seized his prey, Within his hated arms I lay, And felt the grasp I dreaded, blame Fate and the robber, not thy dame.

What could a helpless woman do?

My heart was mine and still was true, Why when Hanuman sent by thee Sought Lanka's town across the sea, Couldst thou not give, O lord of men, Thy sentence of rejection then?

Then in the presence of the chief Death, ready death, had brought relief, Nor had I nursed in woe and pain This lingering life, alas in vain.

Then hadst thou shunned the fruitless strife Nor jeopardied thy n.o.ble life, But spared thy friends and bold allies Their vain and weary enterprise.

Is all forgotten, all? my birth, Named Janak's child, from fostering earth?

That day of triumph when a maid My trembling hand in thine I laid?

My meek obedience to thy will, My faithful love through joy and ill, That never failed at duty's call- O King, is all forgotten, all?"

To Lakshma? then she turned and spoke While sobs and sighs her utterance broke: "Sumitra's son, a pile prepare, My refuge in my dark despair.

I will not live to bear this weight Of shame, forlorn and desolate.

The kindled fire my woes shall end And be my best and surest friend."

His mournful eyes the hero raised And wistfully on Rama gazed, In whose stern look no ruth was seen, No mercy for the weeping queen.

No chieftain dared to meet those eyes, To pray, to question or advise.

The word was pa.s.sed, the wood was piled And fain to die stood Janak's child.

She slowly paced around her lord, The G.o.ds with reverent act adored, Then raising suppliant hands the dame Prayed humbly to the Lord of Flame: "As this fond heart by virtue swayed From Raghu's son has never strayed, So, universal witness, Fire Protect my body on the pyre, As Raghu's son has idly laid This charge on Sita, hear and aid."

She ceased: and fearless to the last Within the flame's wild fury pa.s.sed.

Then rose a piercing cry from all Dames, children, men, who saw her fall Adorned with gems and gay attire Beneath the fury of the fire.