The Ramayana Part 8
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They both endowed with Garu?'s might, And skilled in all the arts of fight, Wandered in arms the forest through, And lions, snakes, and tigers, slew.
But every monkey, ape, and bear Ever was Bali's special care; With his vast strength and mighty arm He kept them from all scathe and harm.
And so the earth with hill, wood, seas, Was filled with mighty ones like these, Of various shape and race and kind, With proper homes to each a.s.signed, With Rama's champions fierce and strong The earth was overspread, High as the hills and clouds, a throng With bodies vast and dread.(124)
Canto XVII. Rishyasring's Return.
Now when the high-souled monarch's rite, The Asvamedh, was finished quite, Their sacrificial dues obtained, The G.o.ds their heavenly homes regained.
The lofty-minded saints withdrew, Each to his place, with honour due, And kings and chieftains, one and all, Who came to grace the festival.
And Dasaratha, ere they went, Addressed them thus benevolent: "Now may you, each with joyful heart, To your own realms, O Kings, depart.
Peace and good luck attend you there, And blessing, is my friendly prayer; Let cares of state each mind engage To guard his royal heritage.
A monarch from his throne expelled No better than the dead is held.
So he who cares for power and might Must guard his realm and royal right.
Such care a meed in heaven will bring Better than rites and offering.
Such care a king his country owes As man upon himself bestows, When for his body he provides Raiment and every need besides.
For future days should kings foresee, And keep the present error-free."
Thus did the king the kings exhort: They heard, and turned them from the court And, each to each in friends.h.i.+p bound, Went forth to all the realms around.
The rites were o'er, the guests were sped: The train the best of Brahmans led, In which the king with joyful soul, With his dear wives, and with the whole Of his imperial host and train Of cars and servants turned again, And, as a monarch dear to fame, Within his royal city came.
Next, Rishyasring, well-honoured sage, And Santa, sought their hermitage.
The king himself, of prudent mind, Attended him, with troops behind.
And all her men the town outpoured With Saint Vasish?ha and their lord.
High mounted on a car of state, O'er canopied fair Santa sate.
Drawn by white oxen, while a band Of servants marched on either hand.
Great gifts of countless price she bore, With sheep and goats and gems in store.
Like Beauty's self the lady shone With all the jewels she had on, As, happy in her sweet content, Peerless amid the fair she went.
Not Queen Paulomi's(125) self could be More loving to her lord than she.
She who had lived in happy ease, Honoured with all her heart could please, While dames and kinsfolk ever vied To see her wishes gratified, Soon as she knew her husband's will Again to seek the forest, still Was ready for the hermit's cot, Nor murmured at her altered lot.
The king attended to the wild That hermit and his own dear child, And in the centre of a throng Of n.o.ble courtiers rode along.
The sage's son had let prepare A lodge within the wood, and there While they lingered blithe and gay.
Then, duly honoured, went their way.
The glorious hermit Rishyasring Drew near and thus besought the king:
"Return, my honoured lord, I pray, Return, upon thy homeward way."
The monarch, with the waiting crowd, Lifted his voice and wept aloud, And with eyes dripping still to each Of his good queens he spake this speech:
"Kausalya and Sumitra dear, And thou, my sweet Kaikeyi, hear.
All upon Santa feast your gaze, The last time for a length of days."
To Santa's arms the ladies leapt, And hung about her neck and wept, And cried, "O, happy be the life Of this great Brahman and his wife.
The Wind, the Fire, the Moon on high, The Earth, the Streams, the circling Sky, Preserve thee in the wood, true spouse, Devoted to thy husband's vows.
And O dear Santa, ne'er neglect To pay the dues of meek respect To the great saint, thy husband's sire, With all observance and with fire.
And, sweet one, pure of spot and blame, Forget not thou thy husband's claim; In every change, in good and ill, Let thy sweet words delight him still, And let thy wors.h.i.+p constant be: Her lord is woman's deity.
To learn thy welfare, dearest friend, The king will many a Brahman send.
Let happy thoughts thy spirit cheer, And be not troubled, daughter dear."
These soothing words the ladies said.
And pressed their lips upon her head.
Each gave with sighs her last adieu, Then at the king's command withdrew.
The king around the hermit went With circling footsteps reverent, And placed at Rishyasring's command Some soldiers of his royal band.
The Brahman bowed in turn and cried, "May fortune never leave thy side.
O mighty King, with justice reign, And still thy people's love retain."
He spoke, and turned away his face, And, as the hermit went, The monarch, rooted to the place, Pursued with eyes intent.
But when the sage had past from view King Dasaratha turned him too, Still fixing on his friend each thought.
With such deep love his breast was fraught.
Amid his people's loud acclaim Home to his royal seat he came, And lived delighted there, Expecting when each queenly dame, Upholder of his ancient fame, Her promised son should bear.
The glorious sage his way pursued Till close before his eyes he viewed Sweet Champa, Lomapad's fair town, Wreathed with her Champacs'(126) leafy crown.
Soon as the saint's approach he knew, The king, to yield him honour due, Went forth to meet him with a band Of priests and n.o.bles of the land: "Hail, Sage," he cried, "O joy to me!
What bliss it is, my lord, to see Thee with thy wife and all thy train Returning to my town again.
Thy father, honoured Sage, is well, Who hither from his woodland cell Has sent full many a messenger For tidings both of thee and her."
Then joyfully, for due respect, The monarch bade the town be decked.
The king and Rishyasring elate Entered the royal city's gate: In front the chaplain rode.
Then, loved and honoured with all care By monarch and by courtier, there The glorious saint abode.
Canto XVIII. Rishyasring's Departure.
The monarch called a Brahman near And said, "Now speed away To Kasyap's son,(127) the mighty seer, And with all reverence say The holy child he holds so dear, The hermit of the n.o.ble mind, Whose equal it were hard to find, Returned, is dwelling here.
Go, and instead of me do thou Before that best of hermits bow, That still he may, for his dear son, Show me the favour I have won."
Soon as the king these words had said, To Kasyap's son the Brahman sped.
Before the hermit low he bent And did obeisance, reverent; Then with meek words his grace to crave The message of his lord he gave: "The high-souled father of his bride Had called thy son his rites to guide: Those rites are o'er, the steed is slain; Thy n.o.ble child is come again."
Soon as the saint that speech had heard His spirit with desire was stirred To seek the city of the king And to his cot his son to bring.
With young disciples at his side Forth on his way the hermit hied, While peasants from their hamlets ran To reverence the holy man.
Each with his little gift of food, Forth came the village mult.i.tude, And, as they humbly bowed the head, "What may we do for thee?" they said.
Then he, of Brahmans first and best, The gathered people thus addressed: "Now tell me for I fain would know, Why is it I am honoured so?"
They to the high-souled saint replied: "Our ruler is with thee allied.
Our master's order we fulfil; O Brahman, let thy mind be still."
With joy the saintly hermit heard Each pleasant and delightful word, And poured a benediction down On king and ministers and town.
Glad at the words of that high saint Some servants hastened to acquaint Their king, rejoicing to impart The tidings that would cheer his heart.
Soon as the joyful tale he knew To meet the saint the monarch flew, The guest-gift in his hand he brought, And bowed before him and besought: "This day by seeing thee I gain Not to have lived my life in vain, Now be not wroth with me, I pray, "Because I wiled thy son away.(128)
The best of Brahmans answer made: "Be not, great lord of kings, afraid.
Thy virtues have not failed to win My favour, O thou pure of sin."
Then in the front the saint was placed, The king came next in joyous haste, And with him entered his abode, Mid glad acclaim as on they rode.
To greet the sage the reverent crowd Raised suppliant hands and humbly bowed.
Then from the palace many a dame Following well-dressed Santa came, Stood by the mighty saint and cried: "See, honour's source, thy son's dear bride."
The saint, who every virtue knew, His arms around his daughter threw, And with a father's rapture pressed The lady to his wondering breast.
Arising from the saint's embrace She bowed her low before his face, And then, with palm to palm applied, Stood by her hermit father's side.
He for his son, as laws ordain, Performed the rite that frees from stain,(129) And, honoured by the wise and good, With him departed to the wood.
The Ramayana Part 8
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The Ramayana Part 8 summary
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