The Ramayana Part 50

This is the pledge and oath I swore, What thou besoughtest, and no more, Of Rama-for I heard thee, dame- When he for consecration came.

Now with this limit not content, In h.e.l.l should be thy punishment, Who fain the Maithil bride wouldst press To clothe her limbs with hermit dress."

Thus spake the father in his woe; And Rama, still prepared to go, To him who sat with drooping head Spake in return these words and said:

"Just King, here stands my mother dear, Kausalya, one whom all revere.

Submissive, gentle, old is she, And keeps her lips from blame of thee, For her, kind lord, of me bereft A sea of whelming woe is left.

O, show her in her new distress Still fonder love and tenderness.

Well honoured by thine honoured hand Her grief for me let her withstand, Who wrapt in constant thought of me In me would live a devotee.

Peer of Mahendra, O, to her be kind, And treat I pray, my gentle mother so, That, when I dwell afar, her life resigned, She may not pa.s.s to Yama's realm for woe."

Canto x.x.xIX. Counsel To Sita.

Scarce had the sire, with each dear queen, Heard Rama's pleading voice, and seen His darling in his hermit dress Ere failed his senses for distress.

Convulsed with woe, his soul that shook, On Raghu's son he could not look; Or if he looked with failing eye He could not to the chief reply.

By pangs of bitter grief a.s.sailed, The long-armed monarch wept and wailed, Half dead a while and sore distraught, While Rama filled his every thought.

"This hand of mine in days ere now Has reft her young from many a cow, Or living things has idly slain: Hence comes, I ween, this hour of pain.

Not till the hour is come to die Can from its sh.e.l.l the spirit fly.

Death comes not, and Kaikeyi still Torments the wretch she cannot kill, Who sees his son before him quit The fine soft robes his rank that fit, And, glorious as the burning fire, In hermit garb his limbs attire.

Now all the people grieve and groan Through Queen Kaikeyi's deed alone, Who, having dared this deed of sin, Strives for herself the gain to win."

He spoke. With tears his eyes grew dim, His senses all deserted him.

He cried, O Rama, once, then weak And fainting could no further speak.

Unconscious there he lay: at length Regathering his sense and strength, While his full eyes their torrents shed, To wise Sumantra thus he said: "Yoke the light car, and hither lead Fleet coursers of the n.o.blest breed, And drive this heir of lofty fate Beyond the limit of the state.

This seems the fruit that virtues bear, The meed of worth which texts declare- The sending of the brave and good By sire and mother to the wood.'"

He heard the monarch, and obeyed, With ready feet that ne'er delayed, And brought before the palace gate The horses and the car of state.

Then to the monarch's son he sped, And raising hands of reverence said That the light car which gold made fair, With best of steeds, was standing there.

King Dasaratha called in haste The lord o'er all his treasures placed.

And spoke, well skilled in place and time, His will to him devoid of crime: "Count all the years she has to live Afar in forest wilds, and give To Sita robes and gems of price As for the time may well suffice."

Quick to the treasure-room he went, Charged by that king most excellent, Brought the rich stores, and gave them all To Sita in the monarch's hall.

The Maithil dame of high descent Received each robe and ornament, And tricked those limbs, whose lines foretold High destiny, with gems and gold.

So well adorned, so fair to view, A glory through the hall she threw: So, when the Lord of Light upsprings, His radiance o'er the sky he flings.

Then Queen Kausalya spake at last, With loving arms about her cast, Pressed lingering kisses on her head, And to the high-souled lady said: "Ah, in this faithless world below When dark misfortune comes and woe, Wives, loved and cherished every day, Neglect their lords and disobey.

Yes, woman's nature still is this:- After long days of calm and bliss When some light grief her spirit tries, She changes all her love, or flies.

Young wives are thankless, false in soul, With roving hearts that spurn control.

Brooding on sin and quickly changed, In one short hour their love estranged.

Not glorious deed or lineage fair, Not knowledge, gift, or tender care In chains of lasting love can bind A woman's light inconstant mind.

But those good dames who still maintain What right, truth, Scripture, rule ordain- No holy thing in their pure eyes With one beloved husband vies.

Nor let thy lord my son, condemned To exile, be by thee contemned, For be he poor or wealthy, he Is as a G.o.d, dear child, to thee."

When Sita heard Kausalya's speech Her duty and her gain to teach, She joined her palms with reverent grace And gave her answer face to face: "All will I do, forgetting naught, Which thou, O honoured Queen, hast taught.

I know, have heard, and deep have stored The rules of duty to my lord.

Not me, good Queen, shouldst thou include Among the faithless mult.i.tude.

Its own sweet light the moon shall leave Ere I to duty cease to cleave.

The stringless lute gives forth no strain, The wheelless car is urged in vain; No joy a lordless dame, although Blest with a hundred sons, can know.

From father, brother, and from son A measured share of joy is won: Who would not honour, love, and bless Her lord, whose gifts are measureless?

Thus trained to think, I hold in awe Scripture's command and duty's law.

Him can I hold in slight esteem?

Her lord is woman's G.o.d, I deem."

Kausalya heard the lady's speech, Nor failed those words her heart to reach.

Then, pure in mind, she gave to flow The tear that sprang of joy and woe.

Then duteous Rama forward came And stood before the honoured dame, And joining reverent hands addressed The queen in rank above the rest: "O mother, from these tears refrain; Look on my sire and still thy pain.

To thee my days afar shall fly As if sweet slumber closed thine eye, And fourteen years of exile seem To thee, dear mother, like a dream.

On me returning safe and well, Girt by my friends, thine eyes shall dwell."

Thus for their deep affection's sake The hero to his mother spake, Then to the half seven hundred too, Wives of his sire, paid reverence due.

Thus Dasaratha's son addressed That crowd of matrons sore distressed: "If from these lips, while here I dwelt, One heedless taunt you e'er have felt, Forgive me, pray. And now adieu, I bid good-bye to all of you."

Then straight, like curlews' cries, upwent The voices of their wild lament, While, as he bade farewell, the crowd Of royal women wept aloud, And through the ample hall's extent.

Where erst the sound of tabour, blent With drum and shrill-toned instrument, In joyous concert rose, Now rang the sound of wailing high, The lamentation and the cry, The shriek, the choking sob, the sigh That told the ladies' woes.

Canto XL. Rama's Departure.

Then Rama, Sita, Lakshma? bent At the king's feet, and sadly went Round him with slow steps reverent.

When Rama of the duteous heart Had gained his sire's consent to part, With Sita by his side he paid Due reverence to the queen dismayed.

And Lakshma?, with affection meet, Bowed down and clasped his mother's feet.

Sumitra viewed him as he pressed Her feet, and thus her son addressed: "Neglect not Rama wandering there, But tend him with thy faithful care.

In hours of wealth, in time of woe, Him, sinless son, thy refuge know.

From this good law the just ne'er swerve, That younger sons the eldest serve, And to this righteous rule incline All children of thine ancient line- Freely to give, reward each rite, Nor spare their bodies in the fight.

Let Rama Dasaratha be, Look upon Sita as on me, And let the cot wherein you dwell Be thine Ayodhya. Fare thee well."

Her blessing thus Sumitra gave To him whose soul to Rama clave, Exclaiming, when her speech was done, "Go forth, O Lakshma?, go, my son.

Go forth, my son to win success, High victory and happiness.

Go forth thy foemen to destroy, And turn again at last with joy."

As Matali his charioteer Speaks for the Lord of G.o.ds to hear, Sumantra, palm to palm applied, In reverence trained, to Rama cried: "O famous Prince, my car ascend,- May blessings on thy course attend,- And swiftly shall my horses flee And place thee where thou biddest me.

The fourteen years thou hast to stay Far in the wilds, begin to-day; For Oueen Kaikeyi cries, Away."

Then Sita, best of womankind, Ascended, with a tranquil mind, Soon as her toilet task was done, That chariot brilliant as the sun.

Rama and Lakshma? true and bold Sprang on the car adorned with gold.

The king those years had counted o'er, And given Sita robes and store Of precious ornaments to wear When following her husband there.

The brothers in the car found place For nets and weapons of the chase, There warlike arms and mail they laid, A leathern basket and a spade.

Soon as Sumantra saw the three Were seated in the chariot, he Urged on each horse of n.o.ble breed, Who matched the rus.h.i.+ng wind in speed.

As thus the son of Raghu went Forth for his dreary banishment, Chill numbing grief the town a.s.sailed, All strength grew weak, all spirit failed, Ayodhya through her wide extent Was filled with tumult and lament: Steeds neighed and shook the bells they bore, Each elephant returned a roar.

Then all the city, young and old, Wild with their sorrow uncontrolled, Rushed to the car, as, from the sun The panting herds to water run.

Before the car, behind, they clung, And there as eagerly they hung, With torrents streaming from their eyes, Called loudly with repeated cries: "Listen, Sumantra: draw thy rein; Drive gently, and thy steeds restrain.

Once more on Rama will we gaze, Now to be lost for many days.

The queen his mother has, be sure, A heart of iron, to endure To see her G.o.dlike Rama go, Nor feel it shattered by the blow.

Sita, well done! Videha's pride, Still like his shadow by his side; Rejoicing in thy duty still As sunlight cleaves to Meru's hill.

Thou, Lakshma?, too, hast well deserved, Who from thy duty hast not swerved, Tending the peer of G.o.ds above, Whose lips speak naught but words of love.

Thy firm resolve is n.o.bly great, And high success on thee shall wait.

Yea, thou shalt win a priceless meed- Thy path with him to heaven shall lead."

As thus they spake, they could not hold The tears that down their faces rolled, While still they followed for a s.p.a.ce Their darling of Ikshvaku's race.