Ramayana on Friendship

The trees the witching influence knew, And bent with fruits of loveliest hue, And Rama's consecration lent New sweetness to each flowret's scent. The monarch, joy of Raghu's line, Gave largess to the Brahmans, kine And steeds unnumbered, wealth untold Of robes and pearls and gems and gold. A jewelled chain, whose lustre passed The glory of the sun, he cast About his friend Sugriva's neck; And, Angad Bali's son to deck, He gave a pair of armlets bright With diamond and lazulite. A string of pearls of matchless hue Which gleams like tender moonlight threw Adorned with gems of brightest sheen, He gave to grace his darling queen. The offering from his hand received A moment on her bosom heaved; Then from her neck the chain she drew, A glance on all the Vanars threw, And wistful eyes on Rama bent As still she held the ornament. Her wish he knew, and made reply To that mute question of her eye: "Yea, love; the chain on him bestow Whose wisdom truth and might we know, The firm ally, the faithful friend Through toil and peril to the end."

Thus spoke the dame in mournful mood, And Hanuman his speech renewed: "O lady, by thy lord's decree I come a messenger to thee. Thy lord is safe with steadfast friends, And greeting to his queen he sends, And Lakshman, ever faithful bows His reverent head to Rama's spouse."

Filled with dark fear and eager eyes, Anxiety and wild surmise; Echoing with the cries of grief Of sorrowing friends who mourned their chief, Dejected, pale with deep distress, Hurled from their height of happiness: Such was the look the palace wore Where lay the king who breathed no more.

The aged monarch gazed awhile, Then thus addressed him with a smile, As Kasyap, whom the worlds revere, Speaks for the Lord of Gods to hear: "O thou of all my sons most dear, In virtue best, thy father's peer, Child of my consort first in place, Mine equal in her pride of race, Because the people's hearts are bound To thee by graces in thee found, Be thou in Pushya's favouring hour Made partner of my royal power. I know that thou by nature's bent Both modest art and excellent, But though thy gifts no counsel need My love suggests the friendly rede. Mine own dear son, be modest still, And rule each sense with earnest will. Keep thou the evils far away That spring from love and anger's sway. Thy noble course alike pursue In secret as in open view, And every nerve, the love to gain Of ministers and subjects, strain. The happy prince who sees with pride His thriving people satisfied; Whose arsenals with arms are stored, And treasury with golden hoard,-- His friends rejoice as joyed the Blest When Amrit crowned their eager quest. So well, my child, thy course maintain, And from all ill thy soul refrain."

He spoke: nor long did Rama wait His sire's dear friend to venerate: He bade the bird declare his name And the high race of which he came. When Raghu's son had spoken, he Declared his name and pedigree, His words prolonging to disclose How all the things that be arose:

Sugriva spoke inflamed with ire, Scanned Rama with a glance of fire, Pondered a while in silent mood. And thus again his speech renewed: "All lands with Bali's glories ring, A valiant, strong, and mighty king; In conscious power unused to yield, A hero first in every field. His wondrous deeds his might declare, Deeds Gods might scarcely do or dare; And on this power reflecting still I roam on Rishyamuka's hill. Awed by my brother's might I rove, In doubt and fear, from grove to grove, While Hanuman, my chosen friend, And faithful lords my steps attend; And now, O true to friendship's tie, I hail in thee my best ally. My surest refuge from my foes, And steadfast as the Lord of Snows. Still, when I muse how strong and bold Is cruel Bali, evil-souled, But ne'er, O chief of Raghu's line, Have seen what strength in war is thine, Though in my heart I may not dare Doubt thy great might, despise, compare, Thoughts of his fearful deeds will rise And fill my soul with sad surmise. Speech, form, and trust which naught may move Thy secret strength and glory prove, As smouldering ashes dimly show The dormant fires that live below."

Cheered by the words that Rama spoke, Joy in the Vanar's breast awoke, And, as his friendly mood he knew, His thoughts to King Sugriva flew: "Again," he mused, "my high-souled lord Shall rule, to kingly state restored; Since one so mighty comes to save, And freely gives the help we crave."

"Receive," he cried, "this precious ring,(859) Sure token from thy lord the king: The golden ring he wont to wear: See, Rama's name engraven there." Then, as she took the ring he showed, The tears that spring of rapture flowed. She seemed to touch the hand that sent The dearly valued ornament, And with her heart again at ease, Replied in gentle words like these: "O thou, whose soul no fears deter, Wise, brave, and faithful messenger! And hast thou dared, o'er wave and foam, To seek me in the giants' home? In thee, true messenger, I find The noblest of thy woodland kind. Who couldst, unmoved by terror, brook On Ravan, king of fiends, to look. Now may we commune here as friends, For he whom royal Rama sends Must needs be one in danger tried, A valiant, wise, and faithful guide. Say, is it well with Rama still? Lives Lakshman yet untouched by ill? Then why should Rama's hand be slow To free his consort from her woe? Why spare to burn, in search of me, The land encircled by the sea? Can Bharat send no army out With banners, cars and battle shout? Cannot thy king Sugriva lend His legions to assist his friend?"

To Lakshman then she turned and spoke While sobs and sighs her utterance broke: "Sumitra's son, a pile prepare, My refuge in my dark despair. I will not live to bear this weight Of shame, forlorn and desolate. The kindled fire my woes shall end And be my best and surest friend."

Thus each to other pledged and bound In solemn league new transport found, And bent upon his dear ally The gaze he ne'er could satisfy. "Friend of my soul art thou: we share Each other's joy, each other's care;" Thus in the bliss that thrilled his breast Sugriva Raghu's son addressed. From a high Sal a branch he tore Which many a leaf and blossom bore, And the fine twigs beneath them laid A seat for him and Rama made. Then Hanuman with joyous mind, Son of the God who rules the wind, To Lakshman gave, his seat to be, The gay branch of a Sandal tree. Then King Sugriva with his eyes Still trembling with the sweet surprise Of the great joy he could not hide, To Raghu's noblest scion cried: "O Rama, racked with woe and fear, Spurned by my foes, I wander here. Reft of my spouse, forlorn I dwell Here in my forest citadel. Or wild with terror and distress Roam through the distant wilderness. Vext by my brother Bali long My soul has borne the scathe and wrong. Do thou, whose virtues all revere, Release me from my woe and fear. From dire distress thy friend to free Is a high task and worthy thee."

Joy gleamed in Bhardvaja's eye, Who gently smiled and made reply: "Thy brother, studious of thy will, Is faithful and obedient still. In tangled twine he coils his hair: Thy safe return is all his care. Before thy shoes he humbly bends, And to thy house and realm attends. When first these dreary years began, When first I saw the banished man, With Sita, in his hermit coat, At this sad heart compassion smote. My breast with tender pity swelled: I saw thee from thy home expelled, Reft of all princely state, forlorn, A hapless wanderer travel-worn, Firm in thy purpose to fulfil Thy duty and thy father's will. But boundless is my rapture now: Triumphant, girt with friends, art thou. Where'er thy wandering steps have been, Thy joy and woe mine eyes have seen. Thy glorious deeds to me art known, The Brahmans saved, the foes o'erthrown. Such power have countless seasons spent In penance and devotion lent. Thy virtues, best of chiefs, I know, And now a boon would fain bestow. This hospitable gift(1024) receive: Then with the dawn my dwelling leave." The bended head of Rama showed His reverence for the grace bestowed; Then for each brave companion's sake He sought a further boon and spake:

"Go tell the king that Lakshman waits For audience at the city gates, Whose heart, O tamer of thy foes, Is heavy with his brother's woes. Bid him to Rama's word attend, And ask if he will aid his friend. Go, let the king my message learn: Then hither with all speed return."

Then Rama, as their way they made, Saw near at hand a lovely shade, And, as he gazed upon the trees, Spake to Sugriva words like these; "Those stately trees in beauty rise, Fair as a cloud in autumn skies. I fain, my friend, would learn from thee What pleasant grove is that I see."

Brother, to me compassion show, I pray thee with my head bent low, And to these friends who on thee call,-- As the Great Father pities all. But if my tears and prayers be vain, And thou in woods wilt still remain, I will with thee my path pursue And make my home in forests too."

"Not for myself, O King, I grieve, For Tara or the friends I leave, As for sweet Angad, my dear son, My noble, only little one. For, nursed in luxury and bliss, His father he will mourn and miss, And like a stream whose fount is dry Will waste away and sink and die,-- My own dear child, my only boy, His mother Tara's hope and joy. Spare him, O son of Raghu, spare The child entrusted to thy care. My Angad and Sugriva treat E'en as thy heart considers meet, For thou, O chief of men, art strong To guard the right and punish wrong. O, if thou wilt thine ear incline To hear these dying words of mine, He and Sugriva will to thee As Bharat and as Lakshman be. Let not my Tara, left forlorn, Weep for Sugriva's wrathful scorn; Nor let him, for her lord's offence, Condemn her faithful innocence. And well and wisely may he reign If thy dear grace his power sustain: If, following thee his friend and guide, He turn not from thy hest aside: Thus may he reign with glory, nay Thus to the skies will win his way. Though stayed by Tara's fond recall, By thy dear hand I longed to fall. Against my brother rushed and fought, And gained the death I long have sought."

"Where is the dauntless heart that free From terror's chilling touch can see Two stranger warriors, strong as those, Equipped with swords and shafts and bows, With mighty arms and large full eyes, Like glorious children of the skies? Bali my foe, I ween, has sent These chiefs to aid his dark intent. Hence doubt and fear disturb me still, For thousands serve a monarch's will, In borrowed garb they come, and those Who walk disguised are counted foes. With secret thoughts they watch their time, And wound fond hearts that fear no crime. My foe in state affairs is wise, And prudent kings have searching eyes. By other hands they strike the foe: By meaner tools the truth they know. Now to those stranger warriors turn, And, less than king, their purpose learn. Mark well the trick and look of each; Observe his form and note his speech. With care their mood and temper sound, And, if their minds be friendly found, With courteous looks and words begin Their confidence and love to win. Then as my friend and envoy speak, And question what the strangers seek. Ask why equipped with shaft and bow Through this wild maze of wood they go. If they, O chief, at first appear Pure of all guile, in heart sincere, Detect in speech and look the sin And treachery that lurk within."

Soon as he saw the prince's mind To rest that day was well inclined, He sought Kaikeyi's son to please With hospitable courtesies. Then Bharat to the saint replied: "Our wants are more than satisfied. The gifts which honoured strangers greet, And water for our weary feet Hast thou bestowed with friendly care, And every choice of woodland fare."

Here players shone in bright attire, There dancing women swelled the quire. Each with his friend had much to say Of Rama's consecration-day: Yea, even children, as they played At cottage doors beneath the shade. The royal street with flowers was strown Which loving hands in heaps had thrown, And here and there rich incense lent Its fragrance to the garland's scent; And all was fresh and fair and bright In honour of the coming rite. With careful foresight to illume With borrowed blaze the midnight gloom, The crowds erected here and there Trees in each street gay lamps to bear. The city thus from side to side In festal guise was beautified. The people of the town who longed To view the rite together thronged, And filling every court and square Praised the good king in converse there: "Our high-souled king! He throws a grace On old Ikshvaku's royal race. He feels his years' increasing weight, And makes his son associate. Great joy to us the choice will bring Of Rama for our lord and king. The good and bad to him are known, And long will he protect his own. No pride his prudent breast may swell, Most just, he loves his brothers well, And to us all that love extends, Cherished as brothers and as friends. Long may our lord in life remain, Good Dasaratha, free from stain, By whose most gracious favour we Rama anointed king shall see."

High rose the universal wail That mourned the monarch's death, and, pale With crushing woe, her hair unbound, Her eyes in floods of sorrow drowned, Forth from the inner chambers came With trembling feet each royal dame, Heedless of those who bade them stay They reached the field where Ravan lay; There falling by their husband's side, "Ah, King! ah dearest lord!" they cried. Like creepers shattered by the storm They threw them on his mangled form. One to his bleeding bosom crept And lifted up her voice and wept. About his feet one mourner clung, Around his neck another hung, One on the giant's severed head, Her pearly tears in torrents shed Fast as the drops the summer shower Pours down upon the lotus flower. "Ah, he whose arm in anger reared The King of Gods and Yama feared, While panic struck their heavenly train, Lies prostrate in the battle slain. Thy haughty heart thou wouldst not bend, Nor listen to each wiser friend. Ah, had the dame, as they implored, Been yielded to her injured lord, We had not mourned this day thy fall, And happy had it been for all. Then Rama and thy friends content In blissful peace their days had spent. Thine injured brother had not fled, Nor giant chiefs and Vanars bled. Yet for these woes we will not blame. Thy fancy for the Maithil dame, Fate, ruthless Fate, whom none may bend Has urged thee to thy hapless end."

Then in sweet accents low and mild The Vanar spoke to Janak's child: "A noble king, by sin unstained, The mighty Dasaratha reigned. Lord of the warrior's car and steed, The pride of old Ikshvaku's seed. A faithful friend, a blameless king, Protector of each living thing. A glorious monarch, strong to save, Blest with the bliss he freely gave. His son, the best of all who know The science of the bended bow, Was moon-bright Rama, brave and strong, Who loved the right and loathed the wrong, Who ne'er from kingly duty swerved, Loved by the lands his might preserved. His feet the path of law pursued; His arm rebellious foes subdued. His sire's command the prince obeyed And, banished, sought the forest shade, Where with his wife and brother he Wandered a saintly devotee. There as he roamed the wilds he slew The bravest of the Rakshas crew. The giant king the prince beguiled, And stole his consort, Janak's child. Then Rama roamed the country round, And a firm friend, Sugriva, found, Lord of the Vanar race, expelled From his own realm which Bali held, He conquered Bali and restored The kingdom to the rightful lord. Then by Sugriva's high decree The Vanar legions searched for thee, Sampati's counsel bade me leap A hundred leagues across the deep. And now my happy eyes have seen At last the long-sought Maithil queen. Such was the form, the eye, the grace Of her whom Rama bade me trace."

Thus urged Sugriva famed for lore Of moving words, and spoke no more. Then Rama thus in turn addressed The bold Hanuman and the rest: "Chiefs of the Vanar legions each Of you heard Sugriva's speech. What think ye now in time of fear, When peril and distress are near, In every doubt the wise depend For counsel on a faithful friend."

"Come let us scale," the hero cried, "This hill with various metals dyed. This night upon the breezy crest Sugriva, Lakshman, I, will rest, With sage Vibhishan, faithful friend, His counsel and his lore to lend. From those tall peaks each eager eye The foeman's city shall espy, Who from the wood my darling stole And brought long anguish on my soul."

Two vulture brothers once I knew: Each form at will could they endue. They of the vulture race were kings, And flew with Matarisva's(774) wings. In human shape they loved to greet Their hermit friend, and clasp his feet. The younger was Jatayus, thou The elder whom I gaze on now. Say, has disease or foeman's hate Reduced thee from thy high estate?"

Vasishtha then, with eager cry, Called, "Fear not, friends, nor seek to fly. This son of Gadhi dies to-day, Like hoar-frost in the morning's ray." Thus having said, the glorious sage Spoke to the king in words of rage: "Because thou hast destroyed this grove Which long in holy quiet throve, By folly urged to senseless crime, Now shalt thou die before thy time."

They heard the royal prince declare The purpose of his fixt despair; And all, by common terror moved, His speech in these sad words approved: "Sugriva's heart is hard and stern, And Rama's thoughts for Sita yearn. Our forfeit lives will surely pay For idle search and long delay, And our fierce king will bid us die The favour of his friend to buy."

They heard the high-souled prince's speech, And thus with ready answer each Of those great lords their chief addressed, With saint Vasishtha and the rest: "Good are the words which thou hast said, By brotherly affection led, Like thine own self, a faithful friend, True to thy brother to the end: A heart like thine must all approve, Which naught from virtue's path can move."

Three nights upon the road they passed To rest the steeds that bore them fast, And reached Ayodhya's town at last. Then straight at Dasaratha's call They stood within the royal hall, Where, like a God, inspiring awe, The venerable king they saw. With suppliant palm to palm applied, And all their terror laid aside, They spoke to him upon the throne With modest words, in gentle tone: "Janak, Videha's king, O Sire, Has sent us hither to inquire The health of thee his friend most dear, Of all thy priests and every peer. Next Kusik's son consenting, thus King Janak speaks, dread liege, by us: "I made a promise and decree That valour's prize my child should be. Kings, worthless found in worth's assay, With mien dejected turned away. Thy sons, by Visvamitra led, Unurged, my city visited, And peerless in their might have gained My daughter, as my vow ordained. Full in a vast assembly's view Thy hero Rama broke in two The gem of bows, of monstrous size, That came a treasure from the skies. Ordained the prize of hero's might, Sita my child is his by right. Fain would I keep my promise made, If thou, O King, approve and aid. Come to my town thy son to see: Bring holy guide and priest with thee. O lord of kings, my suit allow, And let me keep my promised vow. So joying for thy children's sake Their triumph too shalt thou partake, With Visvamitra's high consent." Such words with friendship eloquent Spoke Janak, fair Videha's king, By Satananda's counselling."

Filled by his speech with joy and pride, Rama to Lakshman thus replied: "Go then, my brother, bid adieu To all thy friends and retinue. And those two bows of fearful might, Celestial, which, at that famed rite, Lord Varun gave to Janak, king Of fair Vedeha with thee bring, With heavenly coats of sword-proof mail, Quivers, whose arrows never fail, And golden-hilted swords so keen, The rivals of the sun in sheen. Tended with care these arms are all Preserved in my preceptor's hall. With speed, O Lakshman, go, produce, And bring them hither for our use." So on a woodland life intent, To see his faithful friends he went, And brought the heavenly arms which lay By Rama's teacher stored away. And Raghu's son to Rama showed Those wondrous arms which gleamed and glowed, Well kept, adorned with many a wreath Of flowers on case, and hilt, and sheath. The prudent Rama at the sight Addressed his brother with delight: "Well art thou come, my brother dear, For much I longed to see thee here. For with thine aid, before I go, I would my gold and wealth bestow Upon the Brahmans sage, who school Their lives by stern devotion's rule. And for all those who ever dwell Within my house and serve me well, Devoted servants, true and good, Will I provide a livelihood. Quick, go and summon to this place The good Vasishtha's son, Suyajna, of the Brahman race The first and holiest one. To all the Brahmans wise and good Will I due reverence pay, Then to the solitary wood With thee will take my way."

Where Rama stands is naught to fear, No danger comes if he be near; For all who live on him depend, The world's support, and lord, and friend. Ere in too distant wilds he stray, Let us to Rama speed away, For rich reward on those will wait Who serve a prince of soul so great. We will attend on Sita there; Be Raghu's son your special care."

Vasishtha heard their speech and prayer, And thus addressed the concourse there, Friends, Brahmans, counsellors, and all Assembled in the palace hall: "Ye know that Bharat, free from care, Still lives in Rajagriha(339) where The father of his mother reigns: Satrughna by his side remains. Let active envoys, good at need, Thither on fleetest horses speed, To bring the hero youths away: Why waste the time in dull delay?"

So from the wood the saints withdrew, And Rama bidding all adieu In lowly reverence bent: Instructed by their friendly speech, Blest with the gracious love of each, To his pure home he went. Nor would the son of Raghu stray A moment from that grove away From which the saints had fled. And many a hermit thither came Attracted by his saintly fame And the pure life he led.

Swift at his word Mahodar shed, And came returning at the head Of long tried messengers, who bent Before their monarch reverent. "Go quickly hence," said Ravan "scan With keenest eyes the foeman's plan. Learn who, as nearest friends, advise And mould each secret enterprise. Learn when he wakes and goes to rest, Sound every purpose of his breast. Learn what the prince intends to-day: Watch keenly all, and come away."

So Rama, sovereign lord of men, Will spurn the sullied kingship then: He born the eldest and the best, His younger's leavings will detest, Turning from tasted food away, As tigers scorn another's prey. The sacred post is used not twice, Nor elements, in sacrifice. But once the sacred grass is spread, But once with oil the flame is fed: So Rama's pride will ne'er receive The royal power which others leave, Like wine when tasteless dregs are left, Or rites of Soma juice bereft. Be sure the pride of Raghu's race Will never stoop to such disgrace: The lordly lion will not bear That man should beard him in his lair. Were all the worlds against him ranged His dauntless soul were still unchanged: He, dutiful, in duty strong, Would purge the impious world from wrong. Could not the hero, brave and bold, The archer, with his shafts of gold, Burn up the very seas, as doom Will in the end all life consume? Of lion's might, eyed like a bull, A prince so brave and beautiful, Thou hast with wicked hate pursued, Like sea-born tribes who eat their brood. If thou, O Monarch, hadst but known The duty all the Twice-born own, If the good laws had touched thy mind, Which sages in the Scriptures find, Thou ne'er hadst driven forth to pine This brave, this duteous son of thine. First on her lord the wife depends, Next on her son and last on friends: These three supports in life has she, And not a fourth for her may be. Thy heart, O King, I have not won; In wild woods roams my banished son; Far are my friends: ah, hapless me, Quite ruined and destroyed by thee."

Joy reigned in heaven where every eye Had seen the Lord of Lanka die. In cars whose sheen surpassed the sun's Triumphant rode the radiant ones: And Ravan's death, by every tongue, And Rama's glorious deeds were sung. They praised the Vanars true and brave, The counsel wise Sugriva gave. The deeds of Hanuman they told, The valiant chief supremely bold, The strong ally, the faithful friend, And Sita's truth which naught could bend.

Then as the son of Raghu made His way to Panchavati's shade, A mighty vulture he beheld Of size and strength unparalleled. The princes, when the bird they saw, Approached with reverence and awe, And as his giant form they eyed, "Tell who thou art," in wonder cried. The bird, as though their hearts to gain, Addressed them thus in gentlest strain; "In me, dear sons, the friend behold Your royal father loved of old."

He spoke, and joy thrilled Rama's breast; Sugriva's hand he seized and pressed And, transport beaming from his eye, Held to his heart his new ally. In wanderer's weed disguised no more, His proper form Hanuman wore. Then, wood with wood engendering,(554) came Neath his deft hands the kindled flame. Between the chiefs that fire he placed With wreaths of flowers and worship graced. And round its blazing glory went The friends with slow steps reverent.

Upon the mountain slope there grew A threading creeper fair to view, And Lakshman plucked the bloom and round Sugriva's neck a garland wound. Graced with the flowery wreath he wore, The Vanar chief the semblance bore Of a dark cloud at close of day Engarlanded with cranes at play, In glorious light the Vanar glowed As by his comrade's side he strode, And, still on Rama's word intent, His steps to great Kishkindha bent.

But if in lowly reverence meek Sugriva's court with us thou seek, He, as thy birth demands, will share The kingdom with the royal heir. Thy loving kinsman, true and wise, Looks on thee still with favouring eyes. Firm in his promise, pure is he, And ne'er will vex or injure thee. He loves thy mother, lives for her A faithful friend and worshipper. That mother's love thou mayst not spurn: Her only child, return, return."

The monster ceased: the princely pair Heard great Kabandha's eager prayer. Within a mountain cave they sped, Where kindled fire with care they fed. Then Lakshman in his mighty hands Brought ample store of lighted brands, And to a pile of logs applied The flame that ran from side to side. The spreading glow with gentle force Consumed Kabandha's mighty corse, Till the unresting flames had drunk The marrow of the monstrous trunk, As balls of butter melt away Amid the fires that o'er them play. Then from the pyre, like flame that glows Undimmed by cloudy smoke, he rose, In garments pure of spot or speck, A heavenly wreath about his neck. Resplendent in his bright attire He sprang exultant from the pyre. While from neck, arm, and foot was sent The flash of gold and ornament. High on a chariot, bright of hue, Which swans of fairest pinion drew, He filled each region of the air With splendid glow reflected there. Then in the sky he stayed his car And called to Rama from afar: "Hear, chieftain, while my lips explain The means to win thy spouse again. Six plans, O prince, the wise pursue To reach the aims we hold in view.(519) When evils ripening sorely press They load the wretch with new distress, So thou and Lakshman, tried by woe, Have felt at last a fiercer blow, And plunged in bitterest grief to-day Lament thy consort torn away. There is no course but this: attend; Make, best of friends, that chief thy friend. Unless his prospering help thou gain Thy plans and hopes must all be vain. O Rama, hear my words, and seek, Sugriva, for of him I speak. His brother Bali, Indra's son, Expelled him when the fight was won. With four great chieftains, faithful still, He dwells on Rishyamuka's hill.

But all their raptures stab me through And wake my pining love anew.(622) Now through the air no wild bird flies, Each lily shuts her weary eyes; And blooms of opening jasmin show The parting sun has ceased to glow. No captain now for conquest burns, But homeward with his host returns; For roads and kings' ambitious dreams Have vanished neath descending streams. This is the watery month(623) wherein The Samar's(624) sacred chants begin. Ashadha(625) past, now Kosal's lord(626) The harvest of the spring has stored,(627) And dwells within his palace freed From every care of pressing need. Full is the moon, and fierce and strong Impetuous Sarju(628) roars along As though Ayodhya's crowds ran out To greet their king with echoing shout. In this sweet time of ease and rest No care disturbs Sugriva's breast, The foe that marred his peace o'erthrown, And queen and realm once more his own. Alas, a harder fate is mine, Reft both of realm and queen to pine, And, like the bank which floods erode, I sink beneath my sorrow's load. Sore on my soul my miseries weigh, And these long rains our action stay, While Ravan seems a mightier foe Than I dare hope to overthrow. I saw the roads were barred by rain, I knew the hopes of war were vain; Nor could I bid Sugriva rise, Though prompt to aid my enterprise. E'en now I scarce can urge my friend On whom his house and realm depend, Who, after toil and peril past, Is happy with his queen at last. Sugriva after rest will know The hour is come to strike the blow, Nor will his grateful soul forget My succour, or deny the debt I know his generous heart, and hence Await the time with confidence When he his friendly zeal will show, And brooks again untroubled flow."(629)

And let not wish or wrath excite Your hearts the meanest guest to slight; But still observe with special grace Those who obtain the foremost place, Whether for happier skill in art Or bearing in the rite their part. Do you, I pray, with friendly mind Perform the task to you assigned, And work the rite, as bids the law, Without omission, slip, or flaw" They answered: "As thou seest fit So will we do and naught omit." The sage Vasistha then addressed Sumantra called at his behest: "The princes of the earth invite, And famous lords who guard the rite, Priest, Warrior, Merchant, lowly thrall, In countless thousands summon all. Where'er their home be, far or near, Gather the good with honour here, And Janak, whose imperial sway The men of Mithila(87) obey. The firm of vow, the dread of foes, Who all the lore of Scripture knows, Invite him here with honour high, King Dasaratha's old ally. And Kasi's(88) lord of gentle speech, Who finds a pleasant word for each, In length of days our monarch's peer, Illustrious king, invite him here. The father of our ruler's bride, Known for his virtues far and wide, The king whom Kekaya's(89) realms obey, Him with his son invite, I pray. And Lomapad the Angas' king, True to his vows and godlike, bring. For be thine invitations sent To west and south and orient. Call those who rule Surashtra's(90) land, Suvira's(91) realm and Sindhu's strand, And all the kings of earth beside In friendship's bonds with us allied: Invite them all to hasten in With retinue and kith and kin." Vasishtha's speech without delay Sumantra bent him to obey. And sent his trusty envoys forth Eastward and westward, south and north. Obedient to the saint's request Himself he hurried forth, and pressed Each nobler chief and lord and king To hasten to the gathering.

Him Visvamitra thus addressed: "Why make, O Saint, this new request? Thy welcome and each gracious word Sufficient honour have conferred. Thou gavest roots and fruit to eat, The treasures of this pure retreat, And water for my mouth and feet; And--boon I prize above the rest-- Thy presence has mine eyesight blest. Honoured by thee in every way, To whom all honour all should pay, I now will go. My lord, Good-bye! Regard me with a friendly eye."

Thus spake the prince, and strove to cheer The sad heart of the charioteer, And then to royal Guha said These words most wise and spirited: "Guha, dear friend, it is not meet That people throng my calm retreat: For I must live a strict recluse, And mould my life by hermits' use. I now the ancient rule accept By good ascetics gladly kept. I go: bring fig-tree juice that I In matted coils my hair may tie."

That night the son of Raghu lay On Ganga's bank till break of day: Then with the earliest light he woke And thus to brave Satrughna spoke. "Rise up, Satrughna, from thy bed: Why sleepest thou the night is fled. See how the sun who chases night Wakes every lotus with his light. Arise, arise, and first of all The lord of Sringavera call, For he his friendly aid will lend Our army o'er the flood to send."

"O Raghu's son, I cannot tell Where now that cruel fiend may dwell, Declare his power and might, or trace The author of his cursed race. Still trust the promise that I make And let thy breast no longer ache. So will I toil, nor toil in vain, That thou thy consort mayst regain. So will I work with might and skill That joy anew thy heart shall fill: The valour of my soul display, And Ravan and his legions slay. Awake, awake! unmanned no more Recall the strength was thine of yore. Beseems not men like thee to wear A weak heart yielding to despair. Like troubles, too, mine eyes have seen, Lamenting for a long-lost queen; But, by despair unconquered yet, My strength of mind I ne'er forget. Far more shouldst thou of lofty soul Thy passion and thy tears control, When I, of Vanar's humbler strain, Weep not for her in ceaseless pain. Be firm, be patient, nor forget The bounds the brave of heart have set In loss, in woe, in strife, in fear, When the dark hour of death is near. Up! with thine own brave heart advise: Not thus despond the firm and wise. But he who gives his childish heart To choose the coward's weakling part, Sinks, like a foundered vessel, deep In waves of woe that o'er him sweep. See, suppliant hand to hand I lay, And, moved by faithful love, I pray. Give way no more to grief and gloom, But all thy native strength resume. No joy on earth, I ween, have they Who yield their souls to sorrow's sway. Their glory fades in slow decline: 'Tis not for thee to grieve and pine. I do but hint with friendly speech The wiser part I dare not teach. This better path, dear friend, pursue, And let not grief thy soul subdue."

"My king Sugriva greets thee fair, And bids me thus his rede declare. Son of the God of Wind, by name Hanuman, to this isle I came. To set the Maithil lady free I crossed the barrier of the sea. I roamed in search of her and found Her weeping in that lovely ground. Thou in the lore of duty trained, Who hast by stern devotion gained This wondrous wealth and power and fame Shouldst fear to wrong another's dame. Hear thou my counsel, and be wise: No fiend, no dweller in the skies Can bear the shafts by Lakshman shot, Or Rama when his wrath is hot. O Giant King, repent the crime And soothe him while there yet is time. Now be the Maithil queen restored Uninjured to her sorrowing lord. Soon wilt thou rue thy dire mistake: She is no woman but a snake, Whose very deadly bite will be The ruin of thy house and thee. Thy pride has led thy thoughts astray, That fancy not a hand may slay The monarch of the giants, screened From mortal blow of God and fiend. Sugriva still thy death may be: No Yaksha, fiend, or God is he, And Rama from a woman springs, The mortal seed of mortal kings. O think how Bali fell subdued; Think on thy slaughtered multitude. Respect those brave and strong allies; Consult thy safety, and be wise. I, even I, no helper need To overthrow, with car and steed, Thy city Lanka half divine: The power but not the will is mine. For Raghu's son, before his friend The Vanar monarch, swore to end With his own conquering arm the life Of him who stole his darling wife. Turn, and be wise, O Ravan turn; Or thou wilt see thy Lanka burn, And with thy wives, friends, kith and kin Be ruined for thy senseless sin."

He ceased: and Hanuman of all The Vanars in the council hall In wisdom first, and rank, expressed The thoughts that filled his prudent breast: "No marvel thou rememberest yet The service thou shouldst ne'er forget, How the brave prince of Raghu's seed Thy days from fear and peril freed; And Bali for thy sake o'erthrew, Whom Indra's self might scarce subdue. I doubt not Rama's anger burns For the scant love thy heart returns. For this he sends his brother, him Whose glory never waxes dim. Sunk in repose thy careless eye Marks not the seasons as they fly, Nor sees that autumn has begun With dark blooms opening to the sun. Clear is the sky: no cloudlet mars The splendour of the shining stars. The balmy air is soft and still, And clear and bright are lake and rill. Thou heedest not with blinded eyes The hour for warlike enterprise. Hence Lakshman hither comes to break Thy slothful trance and bid thee wake. Then, Monarch, with a patient ear The high-souled Rama's message hear, Which, reft of wife and realm and friends, Thus by another's mouth he sends. Thou, Vanar King, hast done amiss: And now I see no way but this: Before his envoy humbly stand And sue for peace with suppliant hand. High duty bids a courtier seek His master's weal, and freely speak. So by no thought of fear controlled My speech, O King, is free and bold, For Rama, if his anger glow, Can, with the terrors of his bow This earth with all the Gods subdue, Gandharvas,(635) and the demon crew. Unwise to stir his wrathful mood Whose favour must again be wooed. And, most of all, unwise for one Grateful like thee for service done. Go with thy son and kinsmen: bend Thy humble head and greet thy friend. And, like a fond obedient spouse, Be faithful to thy plighted vows."

Thus spake the sovereign of the sky, And this was Rama's glad reply: "If I have won your grace, incline To grant this one request of mine. Restore, O King: the Vanar dead Whose blood for me was nobly shed. To life and strength my friends recall, And bring them back from Yama's hall. When, fresh in might the warriors rise, Prepare a feast to glad their eyes. Let fruits of every season glow, And streams of purest water flow."

Conversing thus their way pursued The city's joyous multitude, And each in mutual rapture pressed A friend or neighbour to his breast. Thus every man of high renown, And every merchant of the town, And leading subjects, joyous went Toward Rama in his banishment. And those who worked the potter's wheel, And artists skilled in gems to deal; And masters of the weaver's art, And those who shaped the sword and dart; And they who golden trinkets made, And those who plied the fuller's trade; And servants trained the bath to heat, And they who dealt in incense sweet; Physicians in their business skilled, And those who wine and mead distilled; And workmen deft in glass who wrought, And those whose snares the peacock caught; With them who bored the ear for rings, Or sawed, or fashioned ivory things; And those who knew to mix cement, Or lived by sale of precious scent; And men who washed, and men who sewed, And thralls who mid the herds abode; And fishers of the flood, and they Who played and sang, and women gay; And virtuous Brahmans, Scripture-wise, Of life approved in all men's eyes; These swelled the prince's lengthened train, Borne each in car or bullock wain. Fair were the robes they wore upon Their limbs where red-hued unguents shone. These all in various modes conveyed Their journey after Bharat made; The soldiers' hearts with rapture glowed, Following Bharat on his road, Their chief whose tender love would fain Bring his dear brother home again. With elephant, and horse, and car, The vast procession travelled far, And came where Ganga's waves below The town of Sringavera(361) flow. There, with his friends and kinsmen nigh, Dwelt Guha, Rama's dear ally, Heroic guardian of the land With dauntless heart and ready hand. There for a while the mighty force That followed Bharat stayed its course, Gazing on Ganga's bosom stirred By many a graceful water-bird.

Thus did the king the kings exhort: They heard, and turned them from the court And, each to each in friendship 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.

"By whom, Kaikeyi, wast thou taught This flattering hope with ruin fraught? Have goblins seized thy soul, O dame, Who thus canst speak and feel no shame? Thy mind with sin is sicklied o'er, From thy first youth ne'er seen before. A good and loving wife wast thou, But all, alas! is altered now. What terror can have seized thy breast To make thee frame this dire request, That Bharat o'er the land may reign, And Rama in the woods remain? Turn from thine evil ways, O turn, And thy perfidious counsel spurn, If thou would fain a favour do To people, lord, and Bharat too. O wicked traitress, fierce and vile, Who lovest deeds of sin and guile, What crime or grievance dost thou see, What fault in Rama or in me? Thy son will ne'er the throne accept If Rama from his rights be kept, For Bharat's heart more firmly yet Than Rama's is on justice set. How shall I say, Go forth, and brook Upon my Rama's face to look, See his pale cheek and ashy lips Dimmed like the moon in sad eclipse? How see the plan so well prepared When prudent friends my counsels shared, All ruined, like a host laid low Beneath some foeman's murderous blow. What will these gathered princes say, From regions near and far away? "O'erlong endures the monarch's reign, or now he is a child again." When many a good and holy sage In Scripture versed, revered for age, Shall ask for Rama, what shall I Unhappy, what shall I reply? "By Queen Kaikeyi long distressed I drove him forth and dispossessed." Although herein the truth I speak, They all will hold me false and weak. What will Kausalya say when she Demands her son exiled by me? Alas! what answer shall I frame, Or how console the injured dame? She like a slave on me attends, And with a sister's care she blends A mother's love, a wife's, a friend's.

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 lust 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."

How Ganga's farther shore he gained; By Bharadvaja entertained, By whose advice he journeyed still And came to Chitrakuta's hill. How there he dwelt and built a cot; How Bharat journeyed to the spot; His earnest supplication made; Drink-offerings to their father paid; The sandals given by Rama's hand, As emblems of his right, to stand: How from his presence Bharat went And years in Nandigrama spent. How Rama entered Dandak wood And in Sutikhna's presence stood. The favour Anasuya showed, The wondrous balsam she bestowed. How Sarabhanga's dwelling-place They sought; saw Indra face to face; The meeting with Agastya gained; The heavenly bow from him obtained. How Rama with Viradha met; Their home in Panchavata set. How Surpanakha underwent The mockery and disfigurement. Of Trisira's and Khara's fall, Of Ravan roused at vengeance call, Maricha doomed, without escape; The fair Videhan(55) lady's rape. How Rama wept and raved in vain, And how the Vulture-king was slain. How Rama fierce Kabandha slew; Then to the side of Pampa drew, Met Hanuman, and her whose vows Were kept beneath the greenwood boughs. How Raghu's son, the lofty-souled, On Pampa's bank wept uncontrolled, Then journeyed, Rishyamuk to reach, And of Sugriva then had speech. The friendship made, which both had sought: How Bali and Sugriva fought. How Bali in the strife was slain, And how Sugriva came to reign. The treaty, Tara's wild lament; The rainy nights in watching spent. The wrath of Raghu's lion son; The gathering of the hosts in one. The sending of the spies about, And all the regions pointed out. The ring by Rama's hand bestowed; The cave wherein the bear abode. The fast proposed, their lives to end; Sampati gained to be their friend. The scaling of the hill, the leap Of Hanuman across the deep. Ocean's command that bade them seek Mainaka of the lofty peak. The death of Sinhika, the sight Of Lanka with her palace bright How Hanuman stole in at eve; His plan the giants to deceive.

Thus the Nishadas' king besought: The prince with spirit wisdom-fraught Replied in seemly words that blent Deep matter with the argument: "Thou, friend of him whom I revere, With honours high hast met me here, For thou alone wouldst entertain And feed to-day so vast a train." In such fair words the prince replied, Then, pointing to the path he cried: "Which way aright will lead my feet To Bharadvaja's calm retreat; For all this land near Ganga's streams Pathless and hard to traverse seems?"

Thus Bharat, strong-armed hero spake, And walked within the pathless brake. O'er plains where gay trees bloomed he went, Through boughs in tangled net-work bent, And then from Rama's cot appeared The banner which the flame upreared. And Bharat joyed with every friend To mark those smoky wreaths ascend: "Here Rama dwells," he thought; "at last The ocean of our toil is passed." Then sure that Rama's hermit cot Was on the mountain's side He stayed his army on the spot, And on with Guha hied.

Again Vibhishan sadly spoke: "His was the hero arm that broke Embattled Gods' and Indra's might, Unconquered ere to-day in fight. He rushed against thee, fought and fell, As Ocean, when his waters swell, Hurling his might against a rock, Falls spent and shattered by the shock. Woe for our king's untimely end, The generous lord the trusty friend: Our sure defence when fear arose, A dreaded scourge to stubborn foes. O, let the king thy hand has slain The honours of the dead obtain."

Her grief and woe she cast aside, Her lips with water purified, And thus her benison began That mother of the noblest man: "If thou wilt hear no words of mine, Go forth, thou pride of Raghu's line. Go, darling, and return with speed, Walking where noble spirits lead. May virtue on thy steps attend, And be her faithful lover's friend. May Those to whom thy vows are paid In temple and in holy shade, With all the mighty saints combine To keep that precious life of thine. The arms wise Visvamitra(292) gave Thy virtuous soul from danger save. Long be thy life: thy sure defence Shall be thy truthful innocence, And that obedience, naught can tire, To me thy mother and thy sire. May fanes where holy fires are fed, Altars with grass and fuel spread, Each sacrificial ground, each tree, Rock, lake, and mountain, prosper thee. Let old Viraj,(293) and Him who made The universe, combine to aid; Let Indra and each guardian Lord Who keeps the worlds, their help afford, And be thy constant friend the Sun, Lord Pusha, Bhaga, Aryuman.(294) Fortnights and seasons, nights and days, Years, months, and hours, protect thy ways, Vrihaspati shall still be nigh, The War-God, and the Moon on high, And Narad(295) and the sainted seven(296) Shall watch thee from their starry heaven. The mountains, and the seas which ring The world, and Varuna the King, Sky, ether, and the wind, whate'er Moves not or moves, for thee shall care. Each lunar mansion be benign, With happier light the planets shine; All gods, each light in heaven that glows, Protect my child where'er he goes. The twilight hours, the day and night, Keep in the wood thy steps aright. Watch, minute, instant, as they flee, Shall all bring happiness to thee. Celestials and the Titan brood Protect thee in thy solitude, And haunt the mighty wood to bless The wanderer in his hermit dress. Fear not, by mightier guardians screened, The giant or night-roving fiend; Nor let the cruel race who tear Man's flesh for food thy bosom scare.

Thus cried the faithful charioteer, As Raghu's son, in rede his peer, Was fast departing on his road,-- And long his tears of anguish flowed. But Rama, when those tears were dried His lips with water purified, And in soft accents, sweet and clear, Again addressed the charioteer: "I find no heart, my friend, like thine, So faithful to Ikshvaku's line. Still first in view this object keep, That ne'er for me my sire may weep. For he, the world's far-ruling king, Is old, and wild with sorrow's sting; With love's great burthen worn and weak: Deem this the cause that thus I speak Whate'er the high-souled king decrees His loved Kaikeyi's heart to please, Yea, be his order what it may, Without demur thou must obey, For this alone great monarchs reign, That ne'er a wish be formed in vain. Then, O Sumantra, well provide That by no check the king be tried: Nor let his heart in sorrow pine: This care, my faithful friend, be thine. The honoured king my father greet, And thus for me my words repeat To him whose senses are controlled, Untired till now by grief, and old; "I, Sita, Lakshman sorrow not, O Monarch, for our altered lot: The same to us, if here we roam, Or if Ayodhya be our home, The fourteen years will quickly fly, The happy hour will soon be nigh When thou, my lord, again shalt see Lakshman, the Maithil dame, and me." Thus having soothed, O charioteer, My father and my mother dear, Let all the queens my message learn, But to Kaikeyi chiefly turn. With loving blessings from the three, From Lakshman, Sita, and from me, My mother, Queen Kausalya, greet With reverence to her sacred feet. And add this prayer of mine: "O King; Send quickly forth and Bharat bring, And set him on the royal throne Which thy decree has made his own. When he upon the throne is placed, When thy fond arms are round him laced, Thine aged heart will cease to ache With bitter pangs for Rama's sake."

The night those messengers of state Had past within the city's gate, In dreams the slumbering Bharat saw A sight that chilled his soul with awe. The dream that dire events foretold Left Bharat's heart with horror cold, And with consuming woes distraught, Upon his aged sire he thought. His dear companions, swift to trace The signs of anguish on his face, Drew near, his sorrow to expel, And pleasant tales began to tell. Some woke sweet music's cheering sound, And others danced in lively round. With joke and jest they strove to raise His spirits, quoting ancient plays; But Bharat still, the lofty-souled, Deaf to sweet tales his fellows told, Unmoved by music, dance, and jest, Sat silent, by his woe oppressed. To him, begirt by comrades near, Thus spoke the friend he held most dear: "Why ringed around by friends, art thou So silent and so mournful now?" "Hear thou," thus Bharat made reply, "What chills my heart and dims mine eye. I dreamt I saw the king my sire Sink headlong in a lake of mire Down from a mountain high in air, His body soiled, and loose his hair. Upon the miry lake he seemed To lie and welter, as I dreamed; With hollowed hands full many a draught Of oil he took, and loudly laughed. With head cast down I saw him make A meal on sesamum and cake; The oil from every member dripped, And in its clammy flood he dipped. The ocean's bed was bare and dry, The moon had fallen from the sky, And all the world lay still and dead, With whelming darkness overspread. The earth was rent and opened wide, The leafy trees were scorched, and died; I saw the seated mountains split, And wreaths of rising smoke emit. The stately beast the monarch rode His long tusks rent and splintered showed; And flames that quenched and cold had lain Blazed forth with kindled light again. I looked, and many a handsome dame, Arrayed in brown and sable came And bore about the monarch, dressed, On iron stool, in sable vest.

When Bharat with each friend and peer Had heard that tale so full and clear, They went together to the tree The bed which Rama pressed to see. Then Bharat to his mothers said: "Behold the high-souled hero's bed: These tumbled heaps of grass betray Where he that night with Sita lay: Unmeet, the heir of fortune high Thus on the cold bare earth should lie, The monarch's son, in counsel sage, Of old imperial lineage. That lion-lord whose noble bed With finest skins of deer was spread,-- How can he now endure to press The bare earth, cold and comfortless! This sudden fall from bliss to grief Appears untrue, beyond belief: My senses are distraught: I seem To view the fancies of a dream. There is no deity so great, No power in heaven can master Fate, If Rama, Dasaratha's heir, Lay on the ground and slumbered there; And lovely Sita, she who springs From fair Videha's ancient kings, Rama's dear wife, by all adored, Lay on the earth beside her lord. Here was his couch, upon this heap He tossed and turned in restless sleep: On the hard soil each manly limb Has stamped the grass with signs of him. That night, it seems, fair Sita spent Arrayed in every ornament, For here and there my eyes behold Small particles of glistering gold. She laid her outer garment here, For still some silken threads appear, How dear in her devoted eyes Must be the bed where Rama lies, Where she so tender could repose And by his side forget her woes. Alas, unhappy, guilty me! For whom the prince was forced to flee, And chief of Raghu's sons and best, A bed like this with Sita pressed. Son of a royal sire whose hand Ruled paramount o'er every land, Could he who every joy bestows, Whose body like the lotus shows, The friend of all, who charms the sight, Whose flashing eyes are darkly bright, Leave the dear kingdom, his by right, Unmeet for woe, the heir of bliss, And lie upon a bed like this?