The Ramayana Part 47

The youthful wife, his babes who bore, Their indigence felt more and more.

Thus to the aged man she spake: "Hear this my word: my counsel take.

Come, throw thy spade and plough away; To virtuous Rama go to-day, And somewhat of his kindness pray."

He heard the words she spoke: around His limbs his ragged cloth he wound, And took his journey by the road That led to Rama's fair abode.

To the fifth court he made his way; Nor met the Brahman check or stay.

Brighu, Angiras(309) could not be Brighter with saintly light than he.

To Rama's presence on he pressed, And thus the n.o.ble chief addressed: "O Rama, poor and weak am I, And many children round me cry.

Scant living in the woods I earn: On me thine eye of pity turn."

And Rama, bent on sport and jest, The suppliant Brahman thus addressed: "O aged man, one thousand kine, Yet undistributed, are mine.

The cows on thee will I bestow As far as thou thy staff canst throw."

The Brahman heard. In eager haste He bound his cloth around his waist.

Then round his head his staff he whirled, And forth with mightiest effort hurled.

Cast from his hand it flew, and sank To earth on Sarju's farther bank, Where herds of kine in thousands fed Near to the well-stocked bullock shed.

And all the cows that wandered o'er The meadow, far as Sarju's sh.o.r.e, At Rama's word the herdsmen drove To Trija?'s cottage in the grove.

He drew the Brahman to his breast, And thus with calming words addressed: "Now be not angry, Sire. I pray: This jest of mine was meant in play.

These thousand kine, but not alone.

Their herdsmen too, are all thine own.

And wealth beside I give thee: speak, Thine shall be all thy heart can seek."

Thus Rama spake. And Trija? prayed For means his sacrifice to aid.

And Rama gave much wealth, required To speed his offering as desired.

Canto x.x.xIII. The People's Lament.

Thus Sita and the princes brave Much wealth to all the Brahmans gave.

Then to the monarch's house the three Went forth the aged king to see.

The princes from two servants took Those heavenly arms of glorious look, Adorned with garland and with band By Sita's beautifying hand.

On each high house a mournful throng Had gathered ere they pa.s.sed along, Who gazed in pure unselfish woe From turret, roof, and portico.

So dense the crowd that blocked the ways, The rest, unable there to gaze, Were fain each terrace to ascend, And thence their eyes on Rama bend.

Then as the gathered mult.i.tude On foot their well-loved Rama viewed, No royal shade to screen his head, Such words, disturbed in grief, they said: "O look, our hero, wont to ride Leading a host in perfect pride- Now Lakshma?, sole of all his friends, With Sita on his steps attends.

Though he has known the sweets of power, And poured his gifts in liberal shower, From duty's path he will not swerve, But, still his father's truth preserve.

And she whose form so soft and fair Was veiled from spirits of the air, Now walks unsheltered from the day, Seen by the crowds who throng the way.

Ah, for that gently-nurtured form!

How will it fade with sun and storm!

How will the rain, the cold, the heat Mar fragrant breast and tinted feet!

Surely some demon has possessed His sire, and speaks within his breast, Or how could one that is a king Thus send his dear son wandering?

It were a deed unkindly done To banish e'en a worthless son: But what, when his pure life has gained The hearts of all, by love enchained?

Six sovereign virtues join to grace Rama the foremost of his race: Tender and kind and pure is he, Docile, religious, pa.s.sion-free.

Hence misery strikes not him alone: In bitterest grief the people moan, Like creatures of the stream, when dry In the great heat the channels lie.

The world is mournful with the grief That falls on its beloved chief, As, when the root is hewn away, Tree, fruit, and flower, and bud decay.

The soul of duty, bright to see, He is the root of you and me; And all of us, who share his grief, His branches, blossom, fruit, and leaf.

Now like the faithful Lakshma?, we Will follow and be true as he; Our wives and kinsmen call with speed, And hasten where our lord shall lead.

Yes, we will leave each well-loved spot, The field, the garden, and the cot, And, sharers of his weal and woe, Behind the pious Rama go.

Our houses, empty of their stores, With ruined courts and broken doors, With all their treasures borne away.

And gear that made them bright and gay: O'errun by rats, with dust o'erspread, Shrines, whence the deities have fled, Where not a hand the water pours, Or sweeps the long-neglected floors, No incense loads the evening air, No Brahmans chant the text and prayer, No fire of sacrifice is bright, No gift is known, no sacred rite; With floors which broken vessels strew, As if our woes had crushed them too- Of these be stern Kaikeyi queen, And rule o'er homes where we have been.

The wood where Rama's feet may roam Shall be our city and our home, And this fair city we forsake, Our flight a wilderness shall make.

Each serpent from his hole shall hie, The birds and beasts from mountain fly, Lions and elephants in fear Shall quit the woods when we come near, Yield the broad wilds for us to range, And take our city in exchange.

With Rama will we hence, content If, where he is, our days be spent."

Such were the varied words the crowd Of all conditions spoke aloud.

And Rama heard their speeches, yet Changed not his purpose firmly set.

His father's palace soon he neared, That like Kailasa's hill appeared.

Like a wild elephant he strode Right onward to the bright abode.

Within the palace court he stepped, Where ordered bands their station kept, And saw Sumantra standing near With down-cast eye and gloomy cheer.

Canto x.x.xIV. Rama In The Palace.

The dark incomparable chief Whose eye was like a lotus leaf, Cried to the mournful charioteer, "Go tell my sire that I am here."

Sumantra, sad and all dismayed, The chieftain's order swift obeyed.

Within the palace doors he hied And saw the king, who wept and sighed.

Like the great sun when wrapped in shade Like fire by ashes overlaid, Or like a pool with waters dried, So lay the world's great lord and pride, A while the wise Sumantra gazed On him whose senses woe has dazed, Grieving for Rama. Near he drew With hands upraised in reverence due.

With blessing first his king he hailed; Then with a voice that well-nigh failed, In trembling accents soft and low Addressed the monarch in his woe: "The prince of men, thy Rama, waits Before thee at the palace gates.

His wealth to Brahmans he has dealt, And all who in his home have dwelt.

Admit thy son. His friends have heard His kind farewell and parting word, He longs to see thee first, and then Will seek the wilds, O King of men.

He, with each princely virtue's blaze, s.h.i.+nes as the sun engirt by rays."

The truthful King who loved to keep The law profound as Ocean's deep, And stainless as the dark blue sky, Thus to Sumantra made reply: "Go then, Sumantra, go and call My wives and ladies one and all.

Drawn round me shall they fill the place When I behold my Rama's face."

Quick to the inner rooms he sped, And thus to all the women said, "Come, at the summons of the king: Come all, and make no tarrying."

Their husband's word, by him conveyed, Soon as they heard, the dames obeyed, And following his guidance all Came thronging to the regal hall.

In number half seven hundred, they, All lovely dames, in long array, With their bright eyes for weeping red, To stand round Queen Kausalya, sped.

They gathered, and the monarch viewed One moment all the mult.i.tude, Then to Sumantra spoke and said: "Now let my son be hither led."

Sumantra went. Then Rama came, And Lakshma?, and the Maithil dame, And, as he led them on, their guide Straight to the monarch's presence hied.

When yet far off the father saw His son with raised palms toward him draw, Girt by his ladies, sick with woes, Swift from his royal seat he rose.

With all his strength the aged man To meet his darling Rama ran, But trembling, wild with dark despair, Fell on the ground and fainted there.

And Lakshma?, wont in cars to ride, And Rama, threw them by the side Of the poor miserable king, Half lifeless with his sorrow's sting.

Throughout the s.p.a.cious hall up went A thousand women's wild lament: "Ah Rama!" thus they wailed and wept, And anklets tinkled as they stepped Around his body, weeping, threw Their loving arms the brothers two, And then, with Sita's gentle aid, The king upon a couch was laid.

At length to earth's imperial lord, When life and knowledge were restored, Though seas of woe went o'er his head, With suppliant hand, thus Rama said: "Lord of us all, great King, thou art: Bid me farewell before we part, To Da??ak wood this day I go: One blessing and one look bestow.

Let Lakshma? my companion be, And Sita also follow me.

With truthful pleas I sought to bend Their purpose; but no ear they lend.

Now cast this sorrow from thy heart, And let us all, great King, depart.

As Brahma sends his children, so Let Lakshma?, me, and Sita go."

He stood unmoved, and watched intent Until the king should grant consent.

Upon his son his eyes he cast, And thus the monarch spake at last: "O Rama, by her arts enslaved, I gave the boons Kaikeyi craved, Unfit to reign, by her misled: Be ruler in thy father's stead."