The Ramayana Part 33

Vasish?ha bade his lord adieu, And all the peers, dismissed, withdrew.

Then as a royal lion seeks His cave beneath the rocky peaks, So to the chambers where abode His consorts Dasaratha strode.

Full-thronged were those delightful bowers With women richly dressed, And splendid as the radiant towers Where Indra loves to rest.

Then brighter flashed a thousand eyes With the light his presence lent, As, when the moon begins to rise The star thronged firmament.

Canto VI. The City Decorated.

Then Rama bathed in order due, His mind from worldly thoughts withdrew, And with his large-eyed wife besought Naraya?, as a votary ought.

Upon his head the br.i.m.m.i.n.g cup Of holy oil he lifted up, Then placed within the kindled fire The offering to that heavenly Sire, And as he sipped the remnant prayed To Him for blessing and for aid.

Then with still lips and tranquil mind With his Videhan he reclined, In Vish?u's chapel, on a bed Where holy gra.s.s was duly spread, While still the prince's every thought The G.o.d supreme, Naraya?, sought.

One watch remained the night to close When Rama from his couch arose, And bade the men and maids adorn His palace for the solemn morn.

He heard the bards and heralds raise Auspicious strains of joy and praise; And breathed devout, with voice restrained, The hymn for morning rites ordained; Then, with his head in reverence bowed, Praised Madhu's conquering foe aloud, And, in pure linen robes arrayed, The priests to raise their voices prayed.

Obedient to the summons they Proclaimed to all the festal day.

The Brahmans' voices, deep and sweet, Resounded through the crowded street, And echoed through Ayodhya went By many a loud-toned instrument.

Then all the people joyed to hear That Rama with his consort dear Had fasted till the morning light In preparation for the rite.

Swiftly the joyful tidings through Ayodhya's crowded city flew, And soon as dawn appeared, each man To decorate the town began.

In all the temples bright and fair As white clouds towering in the air, In streets, and where the cross-ways met, Where holy fig-trees had been set, In open square, in sacred shade, Where merchants' shops their wealth displayed, On all the mansions of the great, And householders of wealth and state, Where'er the people loved to meet, Where'er a tree adorned the street, Gay banners floated to the wind, And ribands round the staves were twined.

Then clear the singers' voices rang, As, charming mind and ear, they sang.

Here players shone in bright attire, There dancing women swelled the quire.

Each with his friend had much to say Of Rama's consecration-day: Yea, even children, as they played At cottage doors beneath the shade.

The royal street with flowers was strown Which loving hands in heaps had thrown, And here and there rich incense lent Its fragrance to the garland's scent; And all was fresh and fair and bright In honour of the coming rite.

With careful foresight to illume With borrowed blaze the midnight gloom, The crowds erected here and there Trees in each street gay lamps to bear.

The city thus from side to side In festal guise was beautified.

The people of the town who longed To view the rite together thronged, And filling every court and square Praised the good king in converse there: "Our high-souled king! He throws a grace On old Ikshvaku's royal race.

He feels his years' increasing weight, And makes his son a.s.sociate.

Great joy to us the choice will bring Of Rama for our lord and king.

The good and bad to him are known, And long will he protect his own.

No pride his prudent breast may swell, Most just, he loves his brothers well, And to us all that love extends, Cherished as brothers and as friends.

Long may our lord in life remain, Good Dasaratha, free from stain, By whose most gracious favour we Rama anointed king shall see."

Such were the words the townsmen spoke Heard by the gathering countryfolk, Who from the south, north, east, and west, Stirred by the joyful tidings, pressed.

For by their eager longing led To Rama's consecration sped The villagers from every side, And filled Ayodhya's city wide.

This way and that way strayed the crowd, While rose a murmur long and loud, As when the full moon floods the skies And Ocean's waves with thunder rise.

That town, like Indra's city fair, While peasants thronged her ways, Tumultuous roared like Ocean, where Each flood-born monster plays.

Canto VII. Manthara's Lament.

It chanced a slave-born handmaid, bred With Queen Kaikeyi, fancy-led, Mounted the stair and stood upon The terrace like the moon that shone.

Thence Manthara at ease surveyed Ayodhya to her eyes displayed, Where water cooled the royal street, Where heaps of flowers were fresh and sweet, And costly flags and pennons hung On roof and tower their shadow flung; With covered ways prepared in haste, And many an awning newly placed; With sandal-scented streams bedewed, Thronged by a new bathed mult.i.tude: Whose streets were full of Brahman bands With wreaths and sweetmeats in their hands.

Loud instruments their music raised, And through the town, where'er she gazed, The doors of temples glittered white, And the maid marvelled at the sight.

Of Rama's nurse who, standing by, Gazed with a joy-expanded eye, In robes of purest white attired, The wondering damsel thus inquired:

"Does Rama's mother give away Rich largess to the crowds to-day, On some dear object fondly bent, Or blest with measureless content?

What mean these signs of rare delight On every side that meet my sight?

Say, will the king with joy elate Some happy triumph celebrate?"

The nurse, with transport uncontrolled, Her glad tale to the hump-back told: "Our lord the king to-morrow morn Will consecrate his eldest-born, And raise, in Pushya's favouring hour, Prince Rama to the royal power."

As thus the nurse her tidings spoke, Rage in the hump-back's breast awoke.

Down from the terrace, like the head Of high Kailasa's hill, she sped.

Sin in her thoughts, her soul aflame, Where Queen Kaikeyi slept, she came: "Why sleepest thou?" she cried, "arise, Peril is near, unclose thine eyes.

Ah, heedless Queen, too blind to know What floods of sin above thee flow!

Thy boasts of love and grace are o'er: Thine is the show and nothing more.

His favour is an empty cheat, A torrent dried by summer's heat."

Thus by the artful maid addressed In cruel words from raging breast, The queen, sore troubled, spoke in turn; "What evil news have I to learn?

That mournful eye, that altered cheek Of sudden woe or danger speak."

Such were the words Kaikeyi said: Then Manthara, her eyeb.a.l.l.s red With fury, skilled with treacherous art To grieve yet more her lady's heart, From Rama, in her wicked hate, Kaikeyi's love to alienate, Upon her evil purpose bent Began again most eloquent: "Peril awaits thee swift and sure, And utter woe defying cure; King Dasaratha will create Prince Rama Heir a.s.sociate.

Plunged in the depths of wild despair, My soul a prey to pain and care, As though the flames consumed me, zeal Has brought me for my lady's weal, Thy grief, my Queen, is grief to me: Thy gain my greatest gain would be.

Proud daughter of a princely line, The rights of consort queen are thine.

How art thou, born of royal race, Blind to the crimes that kings debase?

Thy lord is gracious, to deceive, And flatters, but thy soul to grieve, While thy pure heart that thinks no sin Knows not the snares that hem thee in.

Thy husband's lips on thee bestow Soft soothing word, an empty show: The wealth, the substance, and the power This day will be Kausalya's dower.

With crafty soul thy child he sends To dwell among thy distant friends, And, every rival far from sight, To Rama gives the power and might.

Ah me! for thou, unhappy dame, Deluded by a husband's name, With more than mother's love hast pressed A serpent to thy heedless breast, And cherished him who works thee woe, No husband but a deadly foe.

For like a snake, unconscious Queen, Or enemy who stabs unseen, King Dasaratha all untrue Has dealt with thee and Bharat too.

Ah, simple lady, long beguiled By his soft words who falsely smiled!

Poor victim of the guileless breast, A happier fate thou meritest.

For thee and thine destruction waits When he Prince Rama consecrates.

Up, lady, while there yet is time; Preserve thyself, prevent the crime.

Up, from thy careless ease, and free Thyself, O Queen, thy son, and me!"

Delighted at the words she said, Kaikeyi lifted from the bed, Like autumn's moon, her radiant head, And joyous at the tidings gave A jewel to the hump-back slave; And as she gave the precious toy She cried in her exceeding joy: "Take this, dear maiden, for thy news Most grateful to mine ear, and choose What grace beside most fitly may The welcome messenger repay.

I joy that Rama gains the throne: Kausalya's son is as mine own."

Canto VIII. Manthara's Speech.

The damsel's breast with fury burned: She answered, as the gift she spurned: "What time, O simple Queen, is this For idle dreams of fancied bliss?

Hast thou not sense thy state to know, Engulfed in seas of whelming woe; Sick as I am with grief and pain My lips can scarce a laugh restrain To see thee hail with ill-timed joy A peril mighty to destroy.

I mourn for one so fondly blind: What woman of a prudent mind Would welcome, e'en as thou hast done, The lords.h.i.+p of a rival's son, Rejoiced to find her secret foe Empowered, like death, to launch the blow; I see that Rama still must fear Thy Bharat, to his throne too near.

Hence is my heart disquieted, For those who fear are those we dread.

Lakshma?, the mighty bow who draws, With all his soul serves Rama's cause; And chains as strong to Bharat bind Satrughna, with his heart and mind, Now next to Rama, lady fair, Thy Bharat is the lawful heir: And far remote, I ween, the chance That might the younger two advance.

Yes, Queen, 'tis Rama that I dread, Wise, prompt, in warlike science bred; And oh, I tremble when I think Of thy dear child on ruin's brink.

Blest with a lofty fate is she, Kausalya; for her son will be Placed, when the moon and Pushya meet, By Brahmans on the royal seat, Thou as a slave in suppliant guise Must wait upon Kausalya's eyes, With all her wealth and bliss secured And glorious from her foes a.s.sured.

Her slave with us who serve thee, thou Wilt see thy son to Rama bow, And Sita's friends exult o'er all, While Bharat's wife shares Bharat's fall."

As thus the maid in wrath complained, Kaikeyi saw her heart was pained, And answered eager in defence Of Rama's worth and excellence: "Nay, Rama, born the monarch's heir, By holy fathers trained with care, Virtuous, grateful, pure, and true, Claims royal sway as rightly due.