The Ramayana Part 48

Thus by the lord of men addressed, Rama, of virtue's friends the best, In lore of language duly learned, His answer, reverent, thus returned: "A thousand years, O King, remain O'er this our city still to reign.

I in the woods my life will lead: The l.u.s.t of rule no more I heed.

Nine years and five I there will spend, And when the portioned days shall end, Will come, my vows and exile o'er, And clasp thy feet, my King, once more."

A captive in the snare of truth, Weeping, distressed with woe and ruth, Thus spake the monarch, while the queen Kaikeyi urged him on unseen: "Go then, O Rama, and begin Thy course unvext by fear and sin: Go, my beloved son, and earn Success, and joy, and safe return.

So fast the bonds of duty bind.

O Raghu's son, thy truthful mind, That naught can turn thee back, or guide Thy will so strongly fortified.

But O, a little longer stay, Nor turn thy steps this night away, That I one little day--alas!

One only--with my son may pa.s.s.

Me and thy mother do not slight, But stay, my son, with me to-night; With every dainty please thy taste, And seek to-morrow morn the waste.

Hard is thy task, O Raghu's son, Dire is the toil thou wilt not shun, Far to the lonely wood to flee, And leave thy friends for love of me.

I swear it by my truth, believe, For thee, my son, I deeply grieve, Misguided by the traitress dame With hidden guile like smouldering flame.

Now, by her wicked counsel stirred, Thou fain wouldst keep my plighted word.

No marvel that my eldest born Would hold me true when I have sworn."

Then Rama having calmly heard His wretched father speak each word, With Lakshma? standing by his side Thus, humbly, to the King replied: "If dainties now my taste regale, To-morrow must those dainties fail.

This day departure I prefer To all that wealth can minister.

O'er this fair land, no longer mine, Which I, with all her realms, resign, Her mult.i.tudes of men, her grain, Her stores of wealth, let Bharat reign.

And let the promised boon which thou Wast pleased to grant the queen ere now, Be hers in full. Be true, O King, Kind giver of each precious thing.

Thy spoken word I still will heed, Obeying all thy lips decreed: And fourteen years in woods will dwell With those who live in glade and dell.

No hopes of power my heart can touch, No selfish joys attract so much As son of Raghu, to fulfil With heart and soul my father's will.

Dismiss, dismiss thy needless woe, Nor let those drowning torrents flow: The Lord of Rivers in his pride Keeps to the banks that bar his tide.

Here in thy presence I declare; By thy good deeds, thy truth, I swear; Nor lords.h.i.+p, joy, nor lands I prize; Life, heaven, all blessings I despise.

I wish to see thee still remain Most true, O King, and free from stain.

It must not, Sire, it must not be: I cannot rest one hour with thee.

Then bring this sorrow to an end, For naught my settled will can bend.

I gave a pledge that binds me too, And to that pledge I still am true.

Kaikeyi bade me speed away: She prayed me, and I answered yea.

Pine not for me, and weep no more; The wood for us has joy in store, Filled with the wild deer's peaceful herds And voices of a thousand birds.

A father is the G.o.d of each, Yea, e'en of G.o.ds, so Scriptures teach: And I will keep my sire's decree, For as a G.o.d I honour thee.

O best of men, the time is nigh, The fourteen years will soon pa.s.s by And to thine eyes thy son restore: Be comforted, and weep no more.

Thou with thy firmness shouldst support These weeping crowds who throng the court; Then why, O chief of high renown, So troubled, and thy soul cast down?"

Canto x.x.xV. Kaikeyi Reproached.

Wild with the rage he could not calm, Sumantra, grinding palm on palm, His head in quick impatience shook, And sighed with woe he could not brook.

He gnashed his teeth, his eyes were red, From his changed face the colour fled.

In rage and grief that knew no law, The temper of the king he saw.

With his word-arrows swift and keen He shook the bosom of the queen.

With scorn, as though its lightning stroke Would blast her body, thus he spoke: "Thou, who, of no dread sin afraid, Hast Dasaratha's self betrayed, Lord of the world, whose might sustains Each thing that moves or fixed remains, What direr crime is left thee now?

Death to thy lord and house art thou, Whose cruel deeds the king distress, Mahendra's peer in mightiness, Firm as the mountain's rooted steep, Enduring as the Ocean's deep.

Despise not Dasaratha, he Is a kind lord and friend to thee.

A loving wife in worth outruns The mother of ten million sons.

Kings, when their sires have pa.s.sed away, Succeed by birthright to the sway.

Ikshvaku's son still rules the state, Yet thou this rule wouldst violate.

Yea, let thy son, Kaikeyi, reign, Let Bharat rule his sire's domain.

Thy will, O Queen, shall none oppose: We all will go where Rama goes.

No Brahman, scorning thee, will rest Within the realm thou governest, But all will fly indignant hence: So great thy trespa.s.s and offence.

I marvel, when thy crime I see, Earth yawns not quick to swallow thee; And that the Brahman saints prepare No burning scourge thy soul to scare, With cries of shame to smite thee, bent Upon our Rama's banishment.

The Mango tree with axes fell, And tend instead the Neem tree well, Still watered with all care the tree Will never sweet and pleasant be.

Thy mother's faults to thee descend, And with thy borrowed nature blend.

True is the ancient saw: the Neem Can ne'er distil a honeyed stream.

Taught by the tale of long ago Thy mother's hateful sin we know.

A bounteous saint, as all have heard, A boon upon thy sire conferred, And all the eloquence revealed That fills the wood, the flood, the field.

No creature walked, or swam, or flew, But he its varied language knew.

One morn upon his couch he heard The chattering of a gorgeous bird.

And as he marked its close intent He laughed aloud in merriment.

Thy mother furious with her lord, And fain to perish by the cord, Said to her husband: "I would know, O Monarch, why thou laughest so."

The king in answer spake again: "If I this laughter should explain, This very hour would be my last, For death, be sure would follow fast."

Again thy mother, flushed with ire, To Kekaya spake, thy royal sire: "Tell me the cause; then live or die: I will not brook thy laugh, not I."

Thus by his darling wife addressed, The king whose might all earth confessed, To that kind saint his story told Who gave the wondrous gift of old.

He listened to the king's complaint, And thus in answer spoke the saint: "King, let her quit thy home or die, But never with her prayer comply."

The saint's reply his trouble stilled, And all his heart with pleasure filled.

Thy mother from his home he sent, And days like Lord Kuvera's spent.

So thou wouldst force the king, misled By thee, in evil paths to tread, And bent on evil wouldst begin, Through folly, this career of sin.

Most true, methinks, in thee is shown The ancient saw so widely known: The sons their fathers' worth declare And girls their mothers' nature share.

So be not thou. For pity's sake Accept the word the monarch spake.

Thy husband's will, O Queen, obey, And be the people's hope and stay, O, do not, urged by folly, draw The king to tread on duty's law.

The lord who all the world sustains, Bright as the G.o.d o'er G.o.ds who reigns.

Our glorious king, by sin unstained, Will never grant what fraud obtained; No shade of fault in him is seen: Let Rama be anointed, Queen.

Remember, Queen, undying shame Will through the world pursue thy name, If Rama leave the king his sire, And, banished, to the wood retire.

Come, from thy breast this fever fling: Of his own realm be Rama king.

None in this city e'er can dwell To tend and love thee half so well.

When Rama sits in royal place, True to the custom of his race Our monarch of the mighty bow A hermit to the woods will go."(310)

Sumantra thus, palm joined to palm, Poured forth his words of bane and balm, With keen reproach, with pleading kind, Striving to move Kaikeyi's mind.

In vain he prayed, in vain reproved, She heard unsoftened and unmoved.

Nor could the eyes that watched her view One yielding look, one change of hue.

Canto x.x.xVI. Siddharth's Speech.

Ikshvaku's son with anguish torn For the great oath his lips had sworn, With tears and sighs of sharpest pain Thus to Sumantra spake again: "Prepare thou quick a perfect force, Cars, elephants, and foot, and horse, To follow Raghu's scion hence Equipped with all magnificence.

Let traders with the wealth they sell, And those who charming stories tell, And dancing-women fair of face, The prince's ample chariots grace.

On all the train who throng his courts, And those who share his manly sports, Great gifts of precious wealth bestow, And bid them with their master go.

Let n.o.ble arms, and many a wain, And townsmen swell the prince's train; And hunters best for woodland skill Their places in the concourse fill.

While elephants and deer he slays, Drinking wood honey as he strays, And looks on streams each fairer yet, His kingdom he may chance forget.

Let all my gold and wealth of corn With Rama to the wilds be borne; For it will soothe the exile's lot To sacrifice in each pure spot, Deal ample largess forth, and meet Each hermit in his calm retreat.

The wealth shall Rama with him bear, Ayodhya shall be Bharat's share."

As thus Kakutstha's offspring spoke, Fear in Kaikeyi's breast awoke.

The freshness of her face was dried, Her trembling tongue was terror-tied.

Alarmed and sad, with bloodless cheek, She turned to him and scarce could speak: "Nay, Sire, but Bharat shall not gain An empty realm where none remain.