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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 Awhile they lingered blithe and gay, Then, duly honored, went their way.
The glorious hermit Rishyasring Drew near and thus besought the King:-- "Return, my honored 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 side 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 pa.s.sed 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 Champac's leafy crown.
Soon as the saint's approach he knew, The King, to yield him honor 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, honored 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 honored 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, 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 favor 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 honored 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."
The best of Brahmans answer made:-- "Be not, great lord of Kings, afraid.
Thy virtues have not failed to win My favor, 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, honor'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, And, honored by the wise and good, With him departed to the wood.
CANTO XIX
THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCES
The seasons six, in rapid flight, Had circled since that glorious rite.
Eleven months had pa.s.sed away-- 'Twas Chaitra's ninth returning day.
The moon within that mansion shone Which Aditi looks so kindly on.
Raised to their apex in the sky Five brilliant planets beamed on high.
Shone with the moon, in Cancer's sign, Vrihaspati with light divine.
Kausalya bore an infant blest With heavenly marks of grace impressed; Rama, the universe's lord, A prince by all the worlds adored.
New glory Queen Kausalya won Reflected from her splendid son.
So Aditi shone more and more, The Mother of the G.o.ds, when she The King of the Immortals bore, The thunder-wielding deity.
The lotus-eyed, the beauteous boy, He came fierce Ravan to destroy; From half of Vishnu's vigor born, He came to help the worlds forlorn.
And Queen Kaikeyi bore a child Of truest valor, Bharat styled, With every princely virtue blest, One-fourth of Vishnu manifest.
Sumitra too a n.o.ble pair, Called Lakshman and Satrughna, bare, Of high emprise, devoted, true, Sharers in Vishnu's essence too.
'Neath Pushya's mansion, Mina's sign, Was Bharat born, of soul benign.
The sun had reached the Crab at morn When Queen Sumitra's babes were born, What time the moon had gone to make His nightly dwelling with the Snake.
The high-souled monarch's consorts bore At different times those glorious four, Like to himself and virtuous, bright As Proshthapada's fourfold light.
Then danced the nymphs' celestial throng, The minstrels raised their strain; The drums of heaven pealed loud and long, And flowers came down in rain.
Within Ayodhya, blithe and gay, All kept the joyous holiday.
The s.p.a.cious square, the ample road With mimes and dancers overflowed, And with the voice of music rang Where minstrels played and singers sang-- And shone, a wonder to behold, With dazzling show of gems and gold.
Nor did the King his largess spare, For minstrel, driver, bard, to share; Much wealth the Brahmans bore away, And many thousand kine that day.
Soon as each babe was twelve days old Twas time the naming rite to hold, When Saint Vasishtha, rapt with joy, a.s.signed a name to every boy.
Rama, to him the high-souled heir, Bharat, to him Kaikeyi bare-- Of Queen Sumitra one fair son Was Lakshman, and Satrughna one.
Rama, his sire's supreme delight, Like some proud banner cheered his sight, And to all creatures seemed to be The self-existent deity.
All heroes, versed in holy lore, To all mankind great love they bore.
Fair stores of wisdom all possessed, With princely graces all were blest.
But mid those youths of high descent, With lordly light preeminent, Like the full moon unclouded shone Rama, the world's dear paragon.
He best the elephant could guide, Urge the fleet car, the charger ride-- A master he of bowman's skill, Joying to do his father's will.
The world's delight and darling, he Loved Lakshman best from infancy; And Lakshman, lord of lofty fate, Upon his elder joyed to wait, Striving his second self to please With friends.h.i.+p's sweet observances.
His limbs the hero ne'er would rest Unless the couch his brother pressed; Except beloved Rama shared He could not taste the meal prepared.
When Rama, pride of Raghu's race, Sprang on his steed to urge the chase, Behind him Lakshman loved to go And guard him with his trusty bow.
As Rama was to Lakshman dear More than his life and ever near, So fond Satrughna prized above His very life his Bharat's love.
Ill.u.s.trious heroes, n.o.bly kind In mutual love they all combined, And gave their royal sire delight With modest grace and warrior might; Supported by the glorious four Shone Dasaratha more and more, As though, with every guardian G.o.d Who keeps the land and skies, The Father of all creatures trod The earth before men's eyes.
CANTO XX
VISVaMITRA'S VISIT