The Ramayana Part 86

Pure in the hermit's grove remain, True to thy duty, free from stain.

But the three worlds are open thrown To thee, by whom all things are known.

Who gave me power that I should dare His duty to my lord declare?

'Tis woman's fancy, light as air, That moves my foolish breast.

Now with thy brother counsel take, Reflect, thy choice with judgment make, And do what seems the best."

Canto X. Rama's Reply.

The words that Sita uttered, spurred By truest love, the hero heard: Then he who ne'er from virtue strayed To Janak's child his answer made: "In thy wise speech, sweet love, I find True impress of thy gentle mind, Well skilled the warrior's path to trace, Thou pride of Janak's ancient race.

What fitting answer shall I frame To thy good words, my honoured dame?

Thou sayst the warrior bears the bow That misery's tears may cease to flow; And those pure saints who love the shade Of Da??ak wood are sore dismayed.

They sought me of their own accord, With suppliant prayers my aid implored: They, fed on roots and fruit, who spend Their lives where bosky wilds extend, My timid love, enjoy no rest By these malignant fiends distressed.

These make the flesh of man their meat: The helpless saints they kill and eat.

The hermits sought my side, the chief Of Brahman race declared their grief.

I heard, and from my lips there fell The words which thou rememberest well: I listened as the hermits cried, And to their prayers I thus replied:

"Your favour, gracious lords, I claim, O'erwhelmed with this enormous shame That Brahmans, great and pure as you, Who should be sought, to me should sue."

And then before the saintly crowd, "What can I do?" I cried aloud.

Then from the trembling hermits broke One long sad cry, and thus they spoke: "Fiends of the wood, who wear at will Each varied shape, afflict us still.

To thee in our distress we fly: O help us, Rama, or we die.

When sacred rites of fire are due, When changing moons are full or new, These fiends who bleeding flesh devour a.s.sail us with resistless power.

They with their cruel might torment The hermits on their vows intent: We look around for help and see Our surest refuge, Prince, in thee.

We, armed with powers of penance, might Destroy the rovers of the night: But loth were we to bring to naught The merit years of toil have bought.

Our penance rites are grown too hard, By many a check and trouble barred, But though our saints for food are slain The withering curse we yet restrain.

Thus many a weary day distressed By giants who this wood infest, We see at length deliverance, thou With Lakshma? art our guardian now."

As thus the troubled hermits prayed, I promised, dame, my ready aid, And now-for truth I hold most dear- Still to my word must I adhere.

My love, I might endure to be Deprived of Lakshma?, life, and thee, But ne'er deny my promise, ne'er To Brahmans break the oath I sware.

I must, enforced by high constraint, Protect them all. Each suffering saint In me, unasked, his help had found; Still more in one by promise bound.

I know thy words, mine own dear dame, From thy sweet heart's affection came: I thank thee for thy gentle speech, For those we love are those we teach.

'Tis like thyself, O fair of face, 'Tis worthy of thy n.o.ble race: Dearer than life, thy feet are set In righteous paths they ne'er forget."

Thus to the Maithil monarch's child, His own dear wife, in accents mild The high-souled hero said: Then to the holy groves which lay Beyond them fair to see, their way The bow-armed chieftain led.

Canto XI. Agastya.

Rama went foremost of the three, Next Sita, followed, fair to see, And Lakshma? with his bow in hand Walked hindmost of the little band.

As onward through the wood they went, With great delight their eyes were bent On rocky heights beside the way And lofty trees with blossoms gay; And streamlets running fair and fast The royal youths with Sita pa.s.sed.

They watched the saras and the drake On islets of the stream and lake, And gazed delighted on the floods Bright with gay birds and lotus buds.

They saw in startled herds the roes, The pa.s.sion-frenzied buffaloes, Wild elephants who fiercely tore The tender trees, and many a boar.

A length of woodland way they pa.s.sed, And when the sun was low at last A lovely stream-fed lake they spied, Two leagues across from side to side.

Tall elephants fresh beauty gave To gra.s.sy bank and lilied wave, By many a swan and saras stirred, Mallard, and gay-winged water-bird.

From those sweet waters, loud and long, Though none was seen to wake the song, Swelled high the singer's music blent With each melodious instrument.

Rama and car-borne Lakshma? heard The charming strain, with wonder stirred, Turned on the margent of the lake To Dharmabhrit(424) the sage, and spake:

"Our longing souls, O hermit, burn This music of the lake to learn: We pray thee, n.o.blest sage, explain The cause of the mysterious strain."

He, as the son of Raghu prayed, With swift accord his answer made, And thus the hermit, virtuous-souled, The story of the fair lake told:

"Through every age 'tis known to fame, Panchapsaras(425) its glorious name, By holy Ma??akar?i wrought With power his rites austere had bought.

For he, great votarist, intent On strictest rule his stern life spent.

Ten thousand years the stream his bed, Ten thousand years on air he fed.

Then on the blessed G.o.ds who dwell In heavenly homes great terror fell: They gathered all, by Agni led, And counselled thus disquieted: "The hermit by ascetic pain The seat of one of us would gain."

Thus with their hearts by fear oppressed In full a.s.sembly spoke the Blest, And bade five loveliest nymphs, as fair As lightning in the evening air, Armed with their winning wiles, seduce From his stern vows the great recluse.

Though lore of earth and heaven he knew, The hermit from his task they drew, And made the great ascetic slave To conquering love, the G.o.ds to save.

Each of the heavenly five became, Bound to the sage, his wedded dame; And he, for his beloved's sake, Formed a fair palace neath the lake.

Under the flood the ladies live, To joy and ease their days they give, And lap in bliss the hermit wooed From penance rites to youth renewed.

So when the sportive nymphs within Those secret bowers their play begin, You hear the singers' dulcet tones Blend sweetly with their tinkling zones."

"How wondrous are these words of thine!"

Cried the famed chiefs of Raghu's line, As thus they heard the sage unfold The marvels of the tale he told.

As Rama spake, his eyes were bent Upon a hermit settlement With light of heavenly lore endued, With sacred gra.s.s and vesture strewed.

His wife and brother by his side, Within the holy bounds he hied, And there, with honour entertained By all the saints, a while remained.

In time, by due succession led, Each votary's cot he visited, And then the lord of martial lore, Returned where he had lodged before.

Here for the months, content, he stayed, There for a year his visit paid: Here for four months his home would fix, There, as it chanced, for five or six.

Here for eight months and there for three The son of Raghu's stay would be: Here weeks, there fortnights, more or less, He spent in tranquil happiness.

As there the hero dwelt at ease Among those holy devotees, In days untroubled o'er his head Ten circling years of pleasure fled.

So Raghu's son in duty trained A while in every cot remained, Then with his dame retraced the road To good Sutiksh?a's calm abode.

Hailed by the saints with honours due Near to the hermit's home he drew, And there the tamer of his foes Dwelt for a time in sweet repose.

One day within that holy wood By saint Sutiksh?a Rama stood, And thus the prince with reverence meek To that high sage began to speak:

"In the wide woodlands that extend Around us, lord most reverend, As frequent voice of rumour tells, Agastya, saintliest hermit, dwells.

So vast the wood, I cannot trace The path to reach his dwelling place, Nor, searching una.s.sisted, find That hermit of the thoughtful mind.

I with my wife and brother fain Would go, his favour to obtain, Would seek him in his lone retreat And the great saint with reverence greet.

This one desire, O Master, long Cherished within my heart, is strong, That I may pay of free accord My duty to that hermit lord."

As thus the prince whose heart was bent On virtue told his firm intent, The good Sutiksh?a's joy rose high, And thus in turn he made reply: "The very thing, O Prince, which thou Hast sought, I wished to urge but now, Bid thee with wife and brother see Agastya, glorious devotee.

I count this thing an omen fair That thou shouldst thus thy wish declare, And I, my Prince, will gladly teach The way Agastya's home to reach.

Southward, dear son, direct thy feet Eight leagues beyond this still retreat: Agastya's hermit brother there Dwells in a home most bright and fair.

'Tis on a knoll of woody ground, With many a branching Pippal(426) crowned: There sweet birds' voices ne'er are mute, And trees are gay with flower and fruit.

There many a lake gleams bright and cool, And lilies deck each pleasant pool, While swan, and crane, and mallard's wings Are lovely in the water-springs.

There for one night, O Rama, stay, And with the dawn pursue thy way.

Still farther, bending southward, by The thicket's edge the course must lie, And thou wilt see, two leagues from thence Agastya's lovely residence, Set in the woodland's fairest spot, All varied foliage decks the cot: There Sita, Lakshma? thou, at ease May spend sweet hours neath shady trees, For all of n.o.blest growth are found Luxuriant on that bosky ground.

If it be still thy firm intent To see that saint preeminent, O mighty counsellor, this day Depart upon thine onward way."

The hermit spake, and Rama bent His head, with Lakshma?, reverent, And then with him and Janak's child Set out to trace the forest wild.

He saw dark woods that fringed the road, And distant hills like clouds that showed, And, as the way he followed, met With many a lake and rivulet.

So pa.s.sing on with ease where led The path Sutiksh?a bade him tread, The hero with exulting breast His brother in these words addressed:

"Here, surely, is the home, in sight, Of that ill.u.s.trious anchorite: Here great Agastya's brother leads A life intent on holy deeds.

Warned of each guiding mark and sign, I see them all herein combine: I see the branches bending low Beneath the flowers and fruit they show.

A soft air from the forest springs, Fresh from the odorous gra.s.s, and brings A spicy fragrance as it flees O'er the ripe fruit of Pippal trees.