The Ramayana Part 29

Such signs of exultation they Saw on the princes' wedding day.

Still rang the heavenly music's sound When Raghu's sons thrice circled round The fire, each one with reverent head, And homeward then their brides they led.

They to the sumptuous palace hied That Janak's care had seen supplied.

The monarch girt with saint and peer Still fondly gazing followed near.

Canto LXXIV. Rama With The Axe.(254)

Soon as the night had reached its close The hermit Visvamitra rose; To both the kings he bade adieu And to the northern hill withdrew.

Ayodhya's lord of high renown Received farewell, and sought his town.

Then as each daughter left her bower King Janak gave a splendid dower, Rugs, precious silks, a warrior force, Cars, elephants, and foot, and horse, Divine to see and well arrayed; And many a skilful tiring-maid, And many a young and trusty slave The father of the ladies gave.

Silver and coral, gold and pearls He gave to his beloved girls.

These precious gifts the king bestowed And sped his guest upon his road.

The lord of Mithila's sweet town Rode to his court and lighted down.

Ayodhya's monarch, glad and gay, Led by the seers pursued his way With his dear sons of lofty mind: The royal army marched behind.

As on he fared the voice he heard Around of many a dismal bird, And every beast in wild affright Began to hurry to the right.

The monarch to Vasish?ha cried: "What strange misfortune will betide?

Why do the beasts in terror fly, And birds of evil omen cry?

What is it shakes my heart with dread?

Why is my soul disquieted?"

Soon as he heard, the mighty saint Thus answered Dasaratha's plaint In sweetest tone: "Now, Monarch, mark, And learn from me the meaning dark.

The voices of the birds of air Great peril to the host declare: The moving beasts the dread allay, So drive thy whelming fear away,"

As he and Dasaratha spoke A tempest from the welkin broke, That shook the s.p.a.cious earth amain And hurled high trees upon the plain.

The sun grew dark with murky cloud, And o'er the skies was cast a shroud, While o'er the army, faint with dread, A veil of dust and ashes spread.

King, princes, saints their sense retained, Fear-stupefied the rest remained.

At length, their wits returning, all Beneath the gloom and ashy pall Saw Jamadagni's son with dread, His long hair twisted round his head, Who, sprung from Bhrigu, loved to beat The proudest kings beneath his feet.

Firm as Kailasa's hill he showed, Fierce as the fire of doom he glowed.

His axe upon his shoulder lay, His bow was ready for the fray, With thirsty arrows wont to fly Like Lightnings from the angry sky.

A long keen arrow forth he drew, Invincible like those which flew From Siva's ever-conquering bow And Tripura in death laid low.

When his wild form, that struck with awe, Fearful as ravening flame, they saw, Vasish?ha and the saints whose care Was sacrifice and muttered prayer, Drew close together, each to each, And questioned thus with bated speech: "Indignant at his father's fate Will he on warriors vent his hate, The slayers of his father slay, And sweep the loathed race away?

But when of old his fury raged Seas of their blood his wrath a.s.suaged: So doubtless now he has not planned To slay all warriors in the land."

Then with a gift the saints drew near To Bhrigu's son whose look was fear, And Rama! Rama! soft they cried.

The gift he took, no word replied.

Then Bhrigu's son his silence broke And thus to Rama Rama spoke:

Canto LXXV. The Parle.

"Heroic Rama, men proclaim The marvels of thy matchless fame, And I from loud-voiced rumour know The exploit of the broken bow, Yea, bent and broken, mighty Chief, A feat most wondrous, past belief.

Stirred by thy fame thy face I sought: A peerless bow I too have brought.

This mighty weapon, strong and dire, Great Jamadagni owned, my sire.

Draw with its shaft my father's bow, And thus thy might, O Rama, show.

This proof of prowess let me see- The weapon bent and drawn by thee; Then single fight our strength shall try, And this shall raise thy glory high."

King Dasaratha heard with dread The boastful speech, and thus he said; Raising his hands in suppliant guise, With pallid cheek and timid eyes: "Forgetful of the b.l.o.o.d.y feud Ascetic toils hast thou pursued; Then, Brahman, let thy children be Untroubled and from danger free.

Sprung of the race of Bhrigu, who Read holy lore, to vows most true, Thou swarest to the Thousand-eyed And thy fierce axe was cast aside.

Thou turnedst to thy rites away Leaving the earth to Kasyap's sway, And wentest far a grove to seek Beneath Mahendra's(255) mountain peak.

Now, mighty Hermit, art thou here To slay us all with doom severe?

For if alone my Rama fall, We share his fate and perish all."

As thus the aged sire complained The mighty chief no answer deigned.

To Rama only thus he cried: "Two bows, the Heavenly Artist's pride, Celestial, peerless, vast, and strong, By all the worlds were honoured long.

One to the Three-eyed G.o.d(256) was given, By glory to the conflict driven, Thus armed fierce Tripura he slew: And then by thee 'twas burst in two.

The second bow, which few may brave, The highest G.o.ds to Vish?u gave.

This bow I hold; before it fall The foeman's fenced tower and wall.

Then prayed the G.o.ds the Sire Most High By some unerring proof to try Were praise for might Lord Vish?u's due, Or his whose Neck is stained with Blue.(257) The mighty Sire their wishes knew, And he whose lips are ever true Caused the two G.o.ds to meet as foes.

Then fierce the rage of battle rose: Bristled in dread each starting hair As Siva strove with Vish?u there.

But Vish?u raised his voice amain.

And Siva's bowstring tw.a.n.ged in vain; Its master of the Three bright Eyes Stood fixt in fury and surprise.

Then all the dwellers in the sky, Minstrel, and saint, and G.o.d drew nigh, And prayed them that the strife might cease, And the great rivals met in peace.

'Twas seen how Siva's bow has failed Unnerved, when Vish?u's might a.s.sailed, And G.o.ds and heavenly sages thence To Vishnu gave preeminence.

Then glorious Siva in his rage Gave it to Devarat the sage Who ruled Videha's fertile land, To pa.s.s it down from hand to hand.

But this my bow, whose shafts smite down The foeman's fenced tower and town, To great Richika Vish?u lent To be a pledge and ornament, Then Jamadagni, Brahman dread, My sire, the bow inherited.

But Arjun stooped to treachery vile And slew my n.o.ble sire by guile, Whose penance awful strength had gained, Whose hand the G.o.d-given bow retained.

I heard indignant how he fell By mournful fate, too sad to tell.

My vengeful fury since that time Scourges all Warriors for the crime.

As generations spring to life I war them down in endless strife.

All earth I brought beneath my sway, And gave it for his meed and pay To holy Kasyap, when of yore The rites performed by him were o'er.

Then to Mahendra's hill I turned Strong in the strength that penance earned, And toiled upon his lofty head By G.o.ds immortal visited.

The breaking of the bow I knew From startled G.o.ds conversing, through The airy regions, of thy deed, And hither came with swiftest speed.

Now, for thy Warrior's honour sake, This best of bows, O Rama, take: This, owned by Vish?u's self of old, My sire and grandsire loved to hold.

Drawn to its head upon the string, One town-destroying arrow bring; If this thou can, O hero, I In single fight thy strength will try."

Canto LXXVI. Debarred From Heaven.

The haughty challenge, undeterred The son of Dasaratha heard, And cried, while reverence for his sire Checked the full torrent of his ire: "Before this day have I been told The deed that stained thy hands of old.

But pity bids my soul forget: Thy father, murdered, claimed the debt.

My strength, O Chief, thou deemest slight, Too feeble for a Warrior's might.

Now will I show thy wondering eyes The prowess which they dare despise."

He hastened then with graceful ease That mighty bow and shaft to seize.

His hand the weapon strung and swayed: The arrow on the string was laid.

Then Jamadagni's son he eyed, And thus in words of fury cried: "Thou art a Brahman, still to be Most highly honoured, Chief, by me.

For Visvamitra's sake beside Shall reverence due be ne'er denied.

Though mine the power, I would not send A dart at thee thy life to end.

But thy great power to wander free, Which penance-rites have won for thee, Or glorious worlds from thee to wrest, Is the firm purpose of my breast, And Vish?u's dart which now I strain Can ne'er be shot to fall in vain: It strikes the mighty, and it stuns The madness of the haughty ones."