The Ramayana Part 19

When but a blighted bud was left, Which Indra's hand in seven had cleft:(213) "No fault, O Lord of G.o.ds, is thine; The blame herein is only mine.

But for one grace I fain would pray, As thou hast reft this hope away.

This bud, O Indra, which a blight Has withered ere it saw the light- From this may seven fair spirits rise To rule the regions of the skies.

Be theirs through heaven's unbounded s.p.a.ce On shoulders of the winds to race, My children, drest in heavenly forms, Far-famed as Maruts, G.o.ds of storms.

One G.o.d to Brahma's sphere a.s.sign, Let one, O Indra, watch o'er thine; And ranging through the lower air, The third the name of Vayu(214) bear.

G.o.ds let the four remaining be, And roam through s.p.a.ce, obeying thee."

The Town-destroyer, Thousand-eyed, Who smote fierce Bali till he died, Joined suppliant hands, and thus replied: "Thy children heavenly forms shall wear; The names devised by thee shall bear, And, Maruts called by my decree, Shall Amrit drink and wait on me.

From fear and age and sickness freed, Through the three worlds their wings shall speed."

Thus in the hermits' holy shade Mother and son their compact made, And then, as fame relates, content, Home to the happy skies they went.

This is the spot-so men have told- Where Lord Mahendra(215) dwelt of old, This is the blessed region where His votaress mother claimed his care.

Here gentle Alambusha bare To old Ikshvaku, king and sage, Visala, glory of his age, By whom, a monarch void of guilt, Was this fair town Visala built.

His son was Hemachandra, still Renowned for might and warlike skill.

From him the great Suchandra came; His son, Dhumrasva, dear to fame.

Next followed royal Srinjay; then Famed Sahadeva, lord of men.

Next came Kusasva, good and mild, Whose son was Somadatta styled, And Sumati, his heir, the peer Of G.o.ds above, now governs here.

And ever through Ikshvaku's grace, Visala's kings, his n.o.ble race, Are lofty-souled, and blest with length Of days, with virtue, and with strength.

This night, O prince, we here will sleep; And when the day begins to peep, Our onward way will take with thee, The king of Mithila to see."

Then Sumati, the king, aware Of Visvamitra's advent there, Came quickly forth with honour meet The lofty-minded sage to greet.

Girt with his priest and lords the king Did low obeisance, wors.h.i.+pping, With suppliant hands, with head inclined, Thus spoke he after question kind; "Since thou hast deigned to bless my sight, And grace awhile thy servant's seat, High fate is mine, great Anchorite, And none may with my bliss compete."

Canto XLVIII. Indra And Ahalya

When mutual courtesies had past, Visala's ruler spoke at last: "These princely youths, O Sage, who vie In might with children of the sky, Heroic, born for happy fate, With elephants' or lions' gait, Bold as the tiger or the bull, With lotus eyes so large and full, Armed with the quiver, sword, and bow, Whose figures like the Asvins(216) show, Like children of the deathless Powers, Come freely to these shades of ours,(217)- How have they reached on foot this place?

What do they seek, and what their race?

As sun and moon adorn the sky, This spot the heroes glorify.

Alike in stature, port, and mien, The same fair form in each is seen,"

He spoke; and at the monarch's call The best of hermits told him all, How in the grove with him they dwelt, And slaughter to the demons dealt.

Then wonder filled the monarch's breast, Who tended well each royal guest.

Thus entertained, the princely pair Remained that night and rested there, And with the morn's returning ray To Mithila pursued their way.

When Janak's lovely city first Upon their sight, yet distant, burst, The hermits all with joyful cries Hailed the fair town that met their eyes.

Then Rama saw a holy wood, Close, in the city's neighbourhood, O'ergrown, deserted, marked by age, And thus addressed the mighty sage: "O reverend lord. I long to know What hermit dwelt here long ago."

Then to the prince his holy guide, Most eloquent of men, replied: "O Rama, listen while I tell Whose was this grove, and what befell When in the fury of his rage The high saint cursed the hermitage.

This was the grove-most lovely then- Of Gautam, O thou best of men, Like heaven itself, most honoured by The G.o.ds who dwell above the sky.

Here with Ahalya at his side His fervid task the ascetic plied.

Years fled in thousands. On a day It chanced the saint had gone away, When Town-destroying Indra came, And saw the beauty of the dame.

The sage's form the G.o.d endued, And thus the fair Ahalya wooed: "Love, sweet! should brook no dull delay But s.n.a.t.c.h the moments when he may."

She knew him in the saint's disguise, Lord Indra of the Thousand Eyes, But touched by love's unholy fire, She yielded to the G.o.d's desire.

"Now, Lord of G.o.ds!" she whispered, "flee, From Gautam save thyself and me."

Trembling with doubt and wild with dread Lord Indra from the cottage fled; But fleeing in the grove he met The home-returning anch.o.r.et, Whose wrath the G.o.ds and fiends would shun, Such power his fervent rites had won.

Fresh from the l.u.s.tral flood he came, In splendour like the burning flame, With fuel for his sacred rites, And gra.s.s, the best of eremites.

The Lord of G.o.ds was sad of cheer To see the mighty saint so near, And when the holy hermit spied In hermit's garb the Thousand-eyed, He knew the whole, his fury broke Forth on the sinner as he spoke: "Because my form thou hast a.s.sumed, And wrought this folly, thou art doomed, For this my curse to thee shall cling, Henceforth a sad and s.e.xless thing."

No empty threat that sentence came, It chilled his soul and marred his frame, His might and G.o.dlike vigour fled, And every nerve was cold and dead.

Then on his wife his fury burst, And thus the guilty dame he cursed: "For countless years, disloyal spouse, Devoted to severest vows, Thy bed the ashes, air thy food, Here shalt thou live in solitude.

This lonely grove thy home shall be, And not an eye thy form shall see.

When Rama, Dasaratha's child, Shall seek these shades then drear and wild, His coming shall remove thy stain, And make the sinner pure again.

Due honour paid to him, thy guest, Shall cleanse thy fond and erring breast, Thee to my side in bliss restore, And give thy proper shape once more."(218)

Thus to his guilty wife he said, Then far the holy Gautam fled, And on Himalaya's lovely heights Spent the long years in sternest rites."

Canto XLIX. Ahalya Freed.

Then Rama, following still his guide, Within the grove, with Lakshma?, hied, Her vows a wondrous light had lent To that ill.u.s.trious penitent.

He saw the glorious lady, screened From eye of man, and G.o.d, and fiend, Like some bright portent which the care Of Brahma launches through the air, Designed by his illusive art To flash a moment and depart: Or like the flame that leaps on high To sink involved in smoke and die: Or like the full moon s.h.i.+ning through The wintry mist, then lost to view: Or like the sun's reflection, cast Upon the flood, too bright to last: So was the glorious dame till then Removed from G.o.ds' and mortals' ken, Till-such was Gautam's high decree- Prince Rama came to set her free.

Then, with great joy that dame to meet, The sons of Raghu clapped her feet; And she, remembering Gautam's oath, With gentle grace received them both; Then water for their feet she gave, Guest-gift, and all that strangers crave.

The prince, of courteous rule aware, Received, as meet, the lady's care.

Then flowers came down in copious rain, And moving to the heavenly strain Of music in the skies that rang, The nymphs and minstrels danced and sang: And all the G.o.ds with one glad voice Praised the great dame, and cried, "Rejoice!

Through fervid rites no more defiled, But with thy husband reconciled."

Gautam, the holy hermit knew- For naught escaped his G.o.dlike view- That Rama lodged beneath that shade, And hasting there his homage paid.

He took Ahalya to his side, From sin and folly purified, And let his new-found consort bear In his austerities a share.

Then Rama, pride of Raghu's race, Welcomed by Gautam, face to face, Who every highest honour showed, To Mithila pursued his road.

Canto L. Janak.

The sons of Raghu journeyed forth, Bending their steps 'twixt east and north.

Soon, guided by the sage, they found, Enclosed, a sacrificial ground.

Then to the best of saints, his guide, In admiration Rama cried:

"The high-souled king no toil has spared, But n.o.bly for his rite prepared, How many thousand Brahmans here, From every region, far and near, Well read in holy lore, appear!

How many tents, that sages screen, With wains in hundreds, here are seen!

Great Brahman, let us find a place Where we may stay and rest a s.p.a.ce."

The hermit did as Rama prayed, And in a spot his lodging made, Far from the crowd, sequestered, clear, With copious water flowing near.

Then Janak, best of kings, aware Of Visvamitra lodging there, With Satananda for his guide- The priest on whom he most relied, His chaplain void of guile and stain- And others of his priestly train, Bearing the gift that greets the guest, To meet him with all honour pressed.

The saint received with gladsome mind Each honour and observance kind: Then of his health he asked the king, And how his rites were prospering, Janak, with chaplain and with priest, Addressed the hermits, chief and least, Accosting all, in due degree, With proper words of courtesy.

Then, with his palms together laid, The king his supplication made: "Deign, reverend lord, to sit thee down With these good saints of high renown."

Then sate the chief of hermits there, Obedient to the monarch's prayer.

Chaplain and priest, and king and peer, Sate in their order, far or near.