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Sugriva to his new-found friend Told his own story to the end:-- His hate of Bali for the wrong And insult he had borne so long.
And Rama lent a willing ear And promised to allay his fear.
Sugriva warned him of the might Of Bali, matchless in the fight, And, credence for his tale to gain, Showed the huge fiend by Bali slain.
The prostrate corse of mountain size Seemed nothing in the hero's eyes; He lightly kicked it, as it lay, And cast it twenty leagues away.
To prove his might his arrows through Seven palms in line, uninjured, flew.
He cleft a mighty hill apart, And down to h.e.l.l he hurled his dart.
Then high Sugriva's spirit rose, a.s.sured of conquest o'er his foes.
With his new champion by his side To vast Kishkindha's cave he hied.
Then, summoned by his awful shout, King Bali came in fury out, First comforted his trembling wife, Then sought Sugriva in the strife.
One shaft from Rama's deadly bow The monarch in the dust laid low.
Then Rama bade Sugriva reign In place of royal Bali slain.
Then speedy envoys hurried forth Eastward and westward, south and north, Commanded by the grateful King Tidings of Rama's spouse to bring.
Then by Sampati's counsel led, Brave Hanuman, who mocked at dread, Sprang at one wild tremendous leap Two hundred leagues, across the deep.
To Lanka's[32] town he urged his way, Where Ravan held his royal sway.
There pensive 'neath Asoka boughs He found poor Sita, Rama's spouse.
He gave the hapless girl a ring, A token from her lord and King.
A pledge from her fair hand he bore; Then battered down the garden door.
Five captains of the host he slew, Seven sons of councillors o'erthrew; Crushed youthful Aksha on the field, Then to his captors chose to yield.
Soon from their bonds his limbs were free, But honoring the high decree Which Brahma had p.r.o.nounced of yore, He calmly all their insults bore.
The town he burnt with hostile flame, And spoke again with Rama's dame, Then swiftly back to Rama flew With tidings of the interview.
Then with Sugriva for his guide, Came Rama to the ocean side.
He smote the sea with shafts as bright As sunbeams in their summer height, And quick appeared the River's King Obedient to the summoning.
A bridge was thrown by Nala o'er The narrow sea from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e.
They crossed to Lanka's golden town, Where Rama's hand smote Ravan down.
Vibhishan there was left to reign Over his brother's wide domain.
To meet her husband Sita came; But Rama, stung with ire and shame, With bitter words his wife addressed Before the crowd that round her pressed.
But Sita, touched with n.o.ble ire, Gave her fair body to the fire.
Then straight the G.o.d of Wind appeared, And words from heaven her honor cleared.
And Rama clasped his wife again, Uninjured, pure from spot and stain, Obedient to the Lord of Fire And the high mandate of his sire.
Led by the Lord who rules the sky, The G.o.ds and heavenly saints drew nigh, And honored him with worthy meed, Rejoicing in each glorious deed.
His task achieved, his foe removed, He triumphed, by the G.o.ds approved.
By grace of Heaven he raised to life The chieftains slain in mortal strife; Then in the magic chariot through The clouds to Nandigrama flew.
Met by his faithful brothers there, He loosed his votive coil of hair; Thence fair Ayodhya's town he gained, And o'er his father's kingdom reigned.
Disease or famine ne'er oppressed His happy people, richly blest With all the joys of ample wealth, Of sweet content and perfect health.
No widow mourned her well-loved mate, No sire his son's untimely fate.
They feared not storm or robber's hand, No fire or flood laid waste the land: The Golden Age seemed come again To bless the days of Rama's reign.
From him the great and glorious King, Shall many a princely scion spring.
And he shall rule, beloved by men, Ten thousand years and hundreds ten, And when his life on earth is past To Brahma's world shall go at last.
Whoe'er this n.o.ble poem reads That tells the tale of Rama's deeds, Good as the Scriptures, he shall be From every sin and blemish free.
Whoever reads the saving strain, With all his kin the heavens shall gain.
Brahmans who read shall gather hence The highest praise for eloquence.
The warrior, o'er the land shall reign, The merchant, luck in trade obtain; And Sudras, listening, ne'er shall fail To reap advantage from the tale.
[_Cantos II., III., IV., and V. are omitted_.]
[32] Ceylon.
CANTO VI
THE KING
There reigned a King of name revered, To country and to town endeared, Great Dasaratha, good and sage, Well read in Scripture's holy page: Upon his kingdom's weal intent, Mighty and brave and provident; The pride of old Ikshvaku's seed For lofty thought and righteous deed.
Peer of the saints, for virtues famed, For foes subdued and pa.s.sions tamed; A rival in his wealth untold Of Indra and the Lord of Gold.
Like Manu first of kings, he reigned, And worthily his state maintained.
For firm and just and ever true Love, duty, gain, he kept in view, And ruled his city rich and free, Like Indra's Amaravati.
And worthy of so fair a place There dwelt a just and happy race With troops of children blest.
Each man contented sought no more, Nor longed with envy for the store By richer friends possessed.
For poverty was there unknown, And each man counted as his own Kine, steeds, and gold, and grain.
All dressed in raiment bright and clean, And every townsman might be seen With ear-rings, wreath or chain.
None deigned to feed on broken fare, And none was false or stingy there.
A piece of gold, the smallest pay, Was earned by labor for a day.
On every arm were bracelets worn, And none was faithless or forsworn, A braggart or unkind.
None lived upon another's wealth, None pined with dread or broken health, Or dark disease of mind.
High-souled were all. The slanderous word, The boastful lie, were never heard.
Each man was constant to his vows, And lived devoted to his spouse.
No other love his fancy knew, And she was tender, kind, and true.
Her dames were fair of form and face, With charm of wit and gentle grace, With modest raiment simply neat, And winning manners soft and sweet.
The twice-born sages, whose delight Was Scripture's page and holy rite, Their calm and settled course pursued, Nor sought the menial mult.i.tude.
In many a Scripture each was versed, And each the flame of wors.h.i.+p nursed, And gave with lavish hand.
Each paid to Heaven the offerings due, And none was G.o.dless or untrue In all that holy band.
To Brahmans, as the laws ordain, The Warrior caste were ever fain The reverence due to pay; And these the Vaisyas' peaceful crowd, Who trade and toil for gain, were proud To honor and obey; And all were by the Sudras served, Who never from their duty swerved.
Their proper wors.h.i.+p all addressed To Brahman, spirits, G.o.d, and guest.
Pure and unmixt their rites remained, Their race's honor ne'er was stained.
Cheered by his grandsons, sons, and wife, Each pa.s.sed a long and happy life.
Thus was that famous city held By one who all his race excelled, Blest in his gentle reign, As the whole land aforetime swayed By Manu, prince of men, obeyed Her king from main to main.
And heroes kept her, strong and brave, As lions guard their mountain cave; Fierce as devouring flame they burned, And fought till death, but never turned.
Horses had she of n.o.blest breed, Like Indra's for their form and speed, From Vahli's hills and Sindhu's sand, Vanayu and Kamboja's land.
Her n.o.ble elephants had strayed Through Vindhyan and Himalayan shade, Gigantic in their bulk and height, Yet gentle in their matchless might.
They rivalled well the world-spread fame Of the great stock from which they came, Of Vaman, vast of size, Of Mahapadma's glorious line, Thine, Anjan, and, Airavat, thine, Upholders of the skies.
With those, enrolled in fourfold cla.s.s, Who all their mighty kin surpa.s.s, Whom men Matangas name, And Mrigas spotted black and white, And Bhadras of unwearied might, And Mandras hard to tame.
Thus, worthy of the name she bore, Ayodhya for a league or more Cast a bright glory round, Where Dasaratha wise and great Governed his fair ancestral state, With every virtue crowned.
Like Indra in the skies he reigned In that good town whose wall contained High domes and turrets proud, With gates and arcs of triumph decked, And st.u.r.dy barriers to protect Her gay and countless crowd.
CANTO VII
THE MINISTERS
Two sages, holy saints, had he, His ministers and priests to be:-- Vasishtha, faithful to advise, And Vamadeva, Scripture-wise.
Eight other lords around him stood, All skilled to counsel, wise and good:-- Jayanta, Vijay, Dhrishti bold In fight, affairs of war controlled; Siddharth and Arthasadhak true Watched o'er expense and revenue, And Dharmapal and wise Asok Of right and law and justice spoke.
With these the sage Sumantra, skilled To urge the car, high station filled.
All these in knowledge duly trained Each pa.s.sion and each sense restrained:-- With modest manners, n.o.bly bred, Each plan and nod and look they read, Upon their neighbors' good intent, Most active and benevolent; As sits the Vasus round their King, They sate around him counselling.