Ramayana on Leadership

The prince whose arm bright glory gained, O'er the whole earth as monarch reigned, And richest gifts to others gave, Is come Sugriva's help to crave; Son of a king the surest friend Of virtue, him who loved to lend His succour to the suffering weak, Is come Sugriva's aid to seek. Yes, Raghu's son whose matchless hand Protected all this sea-girt land, The virtuous prince, my holy guide, For refuge seeks Sugriva's side. His favour sent on great and small Should ever save and prosper all. He now to win Sugriva's grace Has sought his woodland dwelling-place. Son of a king of glorious fame;-- Who knows not Dasaratha's name?-- From whom all princes of the earth Received each honour due to worth;-- Heir of that best of earthly kings, Rama the prince whose glory rings Through realms below and earth and skies, For refuge to Sugriva flies. Nor should the Vanar king refuse The boon for which the suppliant sues, But with his forest legions speed To save him in his utmost need."

From town and country, far and near, He summoned people, prince, and peer. To each he gave a meet abode, And honoured all and gifts bestowed. Then, splendid in his king's attire, He viewed them, as the general Sire, In glory of a God arrayed, Looks on the creatures he has made. But Kekaya's king he called not then For haste, nor Janak, lord of men; For after to each royal friend The joyful tidings he would send. Mid crowds from distant countries met The king upon his throne was set; Then honoured by the people, all The rulers thronged into the hall. On thrones assigned, each king in place Looked silent on the monarch's face. Then girt by lords of high renown And throngs from hamlet and from town He showed in regal pride, As, honoured by the radiant band Of blessed Gods that round him stand, Lord Indra, Thousand-eyed.

For hear me, Vanar King, rehearse What Manu(597) spake in ancient verse,-- This holy law, which all accept Who honour duty, have I kept: "Pure grow the sinners kings chastise, And, like the virtuous, gain the skies; By pain or full atonement freed, They reap the fruit of righteous deed, While kings who punish not incur The penalties of those who err." Mandhata(598) once, a noble king, Light of the line from which I spring, Punished with death a devotee When he had stooped to sin like thee; And many a king in ancient time Has punished frantic sinners' crime, And, when their impious blood was spilt, Has washed away the stain of guilt. Cease, Bali, cease: no more complain: Reproaches and laments are vain, For thou art justly punished: we Obey our king and are not free. Once more, O Bali, lend thine ear Another weightiest plea to hear. For this, when heard and pondered well, Will all complaint and rage dispel. My soul will ne'er this deed repent, Nor was my shaft in anger sent. We take the silvan tribes beset With snare and trap and gin and net, And many a heedless deer we smite From thickest shade, concealed from sight. Wild for the slaughter of the game, At stately stags our shafts we aim. We strike them bounding scared away, We strike them as they stand at bay, When careless in the shade they lie, Or scan the plain with watchful eye. They turn away their heads; we aim, And none the eager hunter blame. Each royal saint, well trained in law Of duty, loves his bow to draw And strike the quarry, e'en as thou Hast fallen by mine arrow now, Fighting with him or unaware,-- A Vanar thou.--I little care.(599) But yet, O best of Vanars, know That kings who rule the earth bestow Fruit of pure life and virtuous deed, And lofty duty's hard-won meed. Harm not thy lord the king: abstain From act and word that cause him pain; For kings are children of the skies Who walk this earth in men's disguise.

Then spoke again the great recluse: "This mighty bow, O King, produce." King Janak, at the saint's request, This order to his train addressed: "Let the great bow be hither borne, Which flowery wreaths and scents adorn." Soon as the monarch's words were said, His servants to the city sped, Five thousand youths in number, all Of manly strength and stature tall, The ponderous eight-wheeled chest that held The heavenly bow, with toil propelled. At length they brought that iron chest, And thus the godlike king addressed: "This best of bows, O lord, we bring, Respected by each chief and king, And place it for these youths to see, If, Sovereign, such thy pleasure be."

Thus in the presence of the priest The royal Janak spoke, and ceased. Then came his henchmen, prompt and brave, To whom his charge the monarch gave. Soon as they heard his will, in haste With fleetest steeds away they raced, To lead with them that lord of kings, As Indra's call Lord Vishnu brings. Sankasya's walls they duly gained, And audience of the king obtained. To him they told the news they brought Of marvels past and Janak's thought. Soon as the king the story knew From those good envoys swift and true, To Janak's wish he gave assent, And swift to Mithila he went. He paid to Janak reverence due, And holy Satananda too, Then sate him on a glorious seat For kings or Gods celestial meet. Soon as the brothers, noble pair Peerless in might, were seated there, They gave the wise Sudaman, best Of councillors, their high behest: "Go, noble councillor," they cried, "And hither to our presence guide Ikshvaku's son, Ayodhya's lord, Invincible by foeman's sword, With both his sons, each holy seer, And every minister and peer." Sudaman to the palace flew, And saw the mighty king who threw Splendour on Raghu's splendid race, Then bowed his head with seemly grace: "O King, whose hand Ayodhya sways, My lord, whom Mithila obeys, Yearns with desire, if thou agree, Thee with thy guide and priest to see." Soon as the councillor had ceased, The king, with saint and peer and priest, Sought, speeding through the palace gate, The hall where Janak held his state. There, with his nobles round him spread, Thus to Videha's lord be said: "Thou knowest, King, whose aid divine Protects Ikshvaku's royal line. In every need, whate'er befall, The saint Vasishtha speaks for all. If Visvamitra so allow, And all the saints around me now, The sage will speak, at my desire, As order and the truth require."

And Bharat, too, for me address: Pray that all health his life may bless. Let every royal lady share, As justice bids, his love and care. Say to the strong-armed chief who brings Joy to Iksvaku's line of kings: "As ruling prince thy care be shown Of him, our sire, who holds the throne. Stricken in years he feels their weight; But leave him in his royal state. As regent heir content thee still, Submissive to thy father's will.' " Rama again his charge renewed, As the hot flood his cheek bedewed: "Hold as thine own my mother dear Who drops for me the longing tear." Then Lakshman, with his soul on fire, Spake breathing fast these words of ire: "Say, for what sin, for what offence Was royal Rama banished thence? He is the cause, the king: poor slave To the light charge Kaikeyi gave. Let right or wrong the motive be, The author of our woe is he. Whether the exile were decreed Through foolish faith or guilty greed, For promises or empire, still The king has wrought a grievous ill. Grant that the Lord of all saw fit To prompt the deed and sanction it, In Rama's life no cause I see For which the king should bid him flee. His blinded eyes refused to scan The guilt and folly of the plan, And from the weakness of the king Here and hereafter woe shall spring. No more my sire: the ties that used To bind me to the king are loosed. My brother Rama, Raghu's son, To me is lord, friend, sire in one. The love of men how can he win, Deserting, by the cruel sin, Their joy, whose heart is swift to feel A pleasure in the people's weal? Shall he whose mandate could expel The virtuous Rama, loved so well, To whom his subjects' fond hearts cling-- Shall he in spite of them be king?"

On that same day that saw the king His gift of kine distributing, The lord of Kekaya's son, by name Yudhajit, Bharat's uncle, came, Asked of the monarch's health, and then Addressed the reverend king of men: "The lord of Kekaya's realm by me Sends greeting, noble King, to thee: Asks if the friends thy prayers would bless Uninterrupted health possess. Right anxious, mighty King, is he My sister's princely boy to see. For this I sought Ayodhya fair The message of my sire to bear. There learning, O my liege, that thou With sons and noble kinsmen now Wast resting here, I sought the place Longing to see my nephew's face." The king with kind observance cheered His friend by tender ties endeared, And every choicest honour pressed Upon his honourable guest.

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."

He stood unmoved, and watched intent Until the king should grant consent. Upon his son his eyes he cast, And thus the monarch spake at last: "O Rama, by her arts enslaved, I gave the boons Kaikeyi craved, Unfit to reign, by her misled: Be ruler in thy father's stead."

The vulture from his slumber woke And heard the words which Sita spoke He raised his eye and looked on her, Looked on her giant ravisher. That noblest bird with pointed beak, Majestic as a mountain peak, High on the tree addressed the king Of giants, wisely counselling: "O Ten-necked lord, I firmly hold To faith and laws ordained of old, And thou, my brother, shouldst refrain From guilty deeds that shame and stain. The vulture king supreme in air, Jatayus is the name I bear. Thy captive, known by Sita's name, Is the dear consort and the dame Of Rama, Dasaratha's heir Who makes the good of all his care. Lord of the world in might he vies With the great Gods of seas and skies. The law he boasts to keep allows No king to touch another's spouse, And, more than all, a prince's dame High honour and respect may claim. Back to the earth thy way incline, Nor think of one who is not thine. Heroic souls should hold it shame To stoop to deeds which others blame, And all respect by them is shown To dames of others as their own. Not every case of bliss and gain The Scripture's holy texts explain, And subjects, when that light is dim, Look to their prince and follow him. The king is bliss and profit, he Is store of treasures fair to see, And all the people's fortunes spring, Their joy and misery, from the king. If, lord of giant race, thy mind Be fickle, false, to sin inclined, How wilt thou kingly place retain? High thrones in heaven no sinners gain. The soul which gentle passions sway Ne'er throws its nobler part away, Nor will the mansion of the base Long be the good man's dwelling-place. Prince Rama, chief of high renown, Has wronged thee not in field or town. Ne'er has he sinned against thee: how Canst thou resolve to harm him now? If moved by Surpanakha's prayer The giant Khara sought him there, And fighting fell with baffled aim, His and not Rama's is the blame. Say, mighty lord of giants, say What fault on Rama canst thou lay?

Soon as he heard the high behest The driver of the chariot pressed Within the chambers of the king, His lord with praises honouring. And none of all the warders checked His entrance for their great respect Of him well known, in place so high, Still fain their king to gratify. He stood beside the royal chief, Unwitting of his deadly grief, And with sweet words began to sing The praises of his lord and king: "As, when the sun begins to rise, The sparkling sea delights our eyes, Wake, calm with gentle soul, and thus Give rapture, mighty King, to us. As Matali(279) this selfsame hour Sang lauds of old to Indra's power, When he the Titan hosts o'erthrew, So hymn I thee with praises due. The Vedas, with their kindred lore, Brahma their soul-born Lord adore, With all the doctrines of the wise, And bid him, as I bid thee, rise. As, with the moon, the Lord of Day Wakes with the splendour of his ray Prolific Earth, who neath him lies, So, mighty King, I bid thee rise. With blissful words, O Lord of men, Rise, radiant in thy form, as when The sun ascending darts his light From Meru's everlasting height. May Siva, Agni, Sun, and Moon Bestow on thee each choicest boon, Kuvera, Varuna, Indra bless Kakutstha's son with all success. Awake, the holy night is fled, The happy light abroad is spread; Awake, O best of kings, and share The glorious task that claims thy care. The holy sage Vasishtha waits, With all his Brahmans, at the gate. Give thy decree, without delay, To consecrate thy son today. As armies, by no captain led, As flocks that feed unshepherded, Such is the fortune of a state Without a king and desolate."

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 past 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 Champacs'(126) leafy crown. Soon as the saint's approach he knew, The king, to yield him honour due, Went forth to meet him with a band Of priests and nobles 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, honoured 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 honoured with all care By monarch and by courtier, there The glorious saint abode.

Thus questioned by the prince, at length Kaikeyi's son regained his strength, And hand to hand in reverence laid, To Rama thus his answer made: "The great-armed monarch, O my lord, Has dared to do a thing abhorred, Left us, and grieving for his son, A home among the Gods has won. My mother Queen Kaikeyi gave The order to the king her slave, And at the bidding of the dame He wrought the sin which mars his fame. Athirst for sway, her hopes are crossed, She mourns her son, her husband lost, And through her impious crime will go For punishment to hell below. Now O my lord, forgive me all; Be gracious to thy lowly thrall: Anointed king, accept to-day Like Indra's self, the royal sway. Be gracious, Prince, to lord and peer, And widowed queens who seek thee here Accept the kingdom thine by right, And so thy faithful friends delight. Let the broad land no longer be All widowed and forlorn of thee: Let the full moon of autumn reign Triumphant o'er the night again. These lords and I before thee bend: O Rama, to our prayer attend. O do not thou this grace deny: Thy brother, pupil, slave am I. Look on this venerable ring, Advisers of our sire the king, From age to age so honoured: thou Shouldst grant their supplication now."

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.

The king who filled Ayodhya's throne, By Ambarisha's name far known, At that same time, it chanced, began A sacrificial rite to plan. But Indra took by force away The charger that the king would slay. The victim lost, the Brahman sped To Ambarisha's side, and said: "Gone is the steed, O King, and this Is due to thee, in care remiss. Such heedless faults will kings destroy Who fail to guard what they enjoy. The flaw is desperate: we need The charger, or a man to bleed. Quick! bring a man if not the horse, That so the rite may have its course."

He ceased: and Angad bowed his head; Thence like embodied flame he sped, And lighted from his airy road Within the Rakshas king's abode. There sate, the centre of a ring Of counsellors, the giant king. Swift through the circle Angad pressed, And spoke with fury in his breast: "Sent by the lord of Kosal's land, His envoy here, O King, I stand, Angad the son of Bali: fame Has haply taught thine ears my name. Thus in the words of Rama I Am come to warn thee or defy: Come forth, and fighting in the van Display the spirit of a man. This arm shall slay thee, tyrant: all Thy nobles, kith and kin shall fall: And earth and heaven, from terror freed, Shall joy to see the oppressor bleed. Vibhishan, when his foe is slain, Anointed king in peace shall reign. Once more I counsel thee: repent, Avoid the mortal punishment, With honour due the dame restore, And pardon for thy sin implore."

Then glad was King Sugriva's breast, And all his lords their joy confessed, Stirred by sure hope of Rama's aid, And promise which the prince had made.

From town and village, far and near, The noblest men are gathered here; Here merchants with their followers crowd, And men in joyful converse loud, And kings from many a distant land To view the consecration stand. The dawn is come, the lucky day; Go bid the monarch haste away, That now Prince Rama may obtain The empire, and begin his reign."

The king was welcomed in, and shown A seat beside the hermit's own, Who offered him, when resting there, Fruit in due course, and woodland fare. And Visvamitra, noblest king, Received Vasishtha's welcoming, Turned to his host, and prayed him tell That he and all with him were well. Vasishtha to the king replied That all was well on every side, That fire, and vows, and pupils throve, And all the trees within the grove. And then the son of Brahma, best Of all who pray with voice suppressed, Questioned with pleasant words like these The mighty king who sate at ease: "And is it well with thee? I pray; And dost thou win by virtuous sway Thy people's love, discharging all The duties on a king that fall? Are all thy servants fostered well? Do all obey, and none rebel? Hast thou, destroyer of the foe, No enemies to overthrow? Does fortune, conqueror! still attend Thy treasure, host, and every friend? Is it all well? Does happy fate On sons and children's children wait?"

Then to the saint supremely wise King Janak spoke in suppliant guise: "Deign, Hermit, with attentive ear, Mv race's origin to hear. When kings a daughter's hand bestow, 'Tis right their line and fame to show. There was a king whose deeds and worth Spread wide his name through heaven and earth, Nimi, most virtuous e'en from youth, The best of all who love the truth. His son and heir was Mithi, and His Janak, first who ruled this land. He left a son Udavasu, Blest with all virtues, good and true. His son was Nandivardhan, dear For pious heart and worth sincere. His son Suketu, hero brave, To Devarat, existence gave. King Devarat, a royal sage, For virtue, glory of the age, Begot Vrihadratha; and he Begot, his worthy heir to be, The splendid hero Mahabir Who long in glory governed here. His son was Sudhriti, a youth Firm in his purpose, brave in sooth, His son was Dhristaketu, blest With pious will and holy breast. The fame of royal saint he won: Haryasva was his princely son. Haryasva's son was Maru, who Begot Pratindhak, wise and true. Next Kirtiratha held the throne, His son, for gentle virtues known. Then followed Devamidha, then Vibudh, Mahandhrak, kings of men. Mahandhrak's son, of boundless might, Was Kirtirat, who loved the right. He passed away, a sainted king, And Maharoma following To Swarnaroma left the state. Then Hrasvaroma, good and great, Succeeded, and to him a pair Of sons his royal consort bare, Elder of these I boast to be: Brave Kusadhwaj is next to me.(251) Me then, the elder of the twain, My sire anointed here to reign. He bade me tend my brother well, Then to the forest went to dwell. He sought the heavens, and I sustained The burden as by law ordained, And noble Kusadhwaj, the peer Of Gods, I ever held most dear. Then came Sankasya's mighty lord, Sudhanva, threatening siege and sword, And bade me swift on him bestow Siva's incomparable bow, And Sita of the lotus eyes: But I refused each peerless prize.

The saints, by Visvamitra led, To Rama thus in answer said: "Janak the king who rules the land Of fertile Mithila has planned A noble sacrifice, and we Will thither go the rite to see. Thou, Prince of men, with us shalt go, And there behold the wondrous bow, Terrific, vast, of matchless might, Which, splendid at the famous rite, The Gods assembled gave the king. No giant, fiend, or God can string That gem of bows, no heavenly bard: Then, sure, for man the task were hard. When lords of earth have longed to know The virtue of that wondrous bow, The strongest sons of kings in vain Have tried the mighty cord to strain. This famous bow thou there shalt view, And wondrous rites shalt witness too. The high-souled king who lords it o'er The realm of Mithila of yore Gained from the Gods this bow, the price Of his imperial sacrifice. Won by the rite the glorious prize Still in the royal palace lies, Laid up in oil of precious scent With aloe-wood and incense blent."

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 God o'er Gods 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.

Thus, by his friends encompassed round, He spoke, and Rama, far renowned, To his dear brother thus replied, Whom holy rites had purified: "O thou whom Queen Kaikeyi bare The best of kings, thy words are fair, Our royal father, when of yore He wed her, to her father swore The best of kingdoms to confer, A noble dowry meet for her; Then, grateful, on the deadly day Of heavenly Gods' and demons' fray, A future boon on her bestowed To whose sweet care his life he owed. She to his mind that promise brought, And then the best of kings besought To bid me to the forest flee, And give the rule, O Prince, to thee. Thus bound by oath, the king our lord Gave her those boons of free accord, And bade me, O thou chief of men, Live in the woods four years and ten. I to this lonely wood have hied With faithful Lakshman by my side, And Sita by no tears deterred, Resolved to keep my father's word. And thou, my noble brother, too Shouldst keep our father's promise true: Anointed ruler of the state Maintain his word inviolate. From his great debt, dear brother, free Our lord the king for love of me, Thy mother's breast with joy inspire, And from all woe preserve thy sire. 'Tis said, near Gaya's holy town(385) Gaya, great saint of high renown, This text recited when he paid Due rites to each ancestral shade: "A son is born his sire to free From Put's infernal pains: Hence, saviour of his father, he The name of Puttra gains."(386) Thus numerous sons are sought by prayer, In Scripture trained with graces fair, That of the number one some day May funeral rites at Gaya pay. The mighty saints who lived of old This holy doctrine ever hold. Then, best of men, our sire release From pains of hell, and give him peace. Now Bharat, to Ayodhya speed, The brave Satrughna with thee lead, Take with thee all the twice-born men, And please each lord and citizen. I now, O King, without delay To Dandak wood will bend my way, And Lakshman and the Maithil dame Will follow still, our path the same.

Around the sacred gear he bent His circling footsteps reverent, And, firm to vows he would not break, Thus to the gathered people spake: "The eldest son is ever king: So rules the house from which we spring: Nor should ye, Lords, like men unwise, With words like these to wrong advise. Rama is eldest born, and he The ruler of the land shall be. Now to the woods will I repair, Five years and nine to lodge me there. Assemble straight a mighty force, Cars, elephants, and foot and horse, For I will follow on his track And bring my eldest brother back. Whate'er the rites of throning need Placed on a car the way shall lead: The sacred vessels I will take To the wild wood for Rama's sake. I o'er the lion prince's head The sanctifying balm will shed, And bring him, as the fire they bring Forth from the shrine, with triumphing. Nor will I let my mother's greed In this her cherished aim succeed: In pathless wilds will I remain, And Rama here as king shall reign. To make the rough ways smooth and clear Send workman out and pioneer: Let skilful men attend beside Our way through pathless spots to guide." As thus the royal Bharat spake, Ordaining all for Rama's sake, The audience gave with one accord Auspicious answer to their lord: "Be royal Fortune aye benign To thee for this good speech of thine, Who wishest still thine elder's hand To rule with kingly sway the land." Their glorious speech, their favouring cries Made his proud bosom swell: And from the prince's noble eyes The tears of rapture fell.(356)

Then by Vibhandak's gentle son Was that high sacrifice begun, The king's advantage seeking still And zealous to perform his will. Now all the Gods had gathered there, Each one for his allotted share: Brahma, the ruler of the sky, Sthanu, Narayan, Lord most high, And holy Indra men might view With Maruts(105) for his retinue; The heavenly chorister, and saint, And spirit pure from earthly taint, With one accord had sought the place The high-souled monarch's rite to grace. Then to the Gods who came to take Their proper share the hermit spake: "For you has Dasaratha slain The votive steed, a son to gain; Stern penance-rites the king has tried, And in firm faith on you relied, And now with undiminished care A second rite would fain prepare. But, O ye Gods, consent to grant The longing of your supplicant. For him beseeching hands I lift, And pray you all to grant the gift, That four fair sons of high renown The offerings of the king may crown." They to the hermit's son replied: "His longing shall be gratified. For, Brahman, in most high degree We love the king and honour thee."

While thus he spoke, the envoys borne On horses faint and travel-worn Had gained the city fenced around With a deep moat's protecting bound. An audience of the king they gained, And honours from the prince obtained; The monarch's feet they humbly pressed, To Bharat next these words addressed: "The household priest and peers by us Send health to thee and greet thee thus: "Come to thy father's house with haste: Thine absent time no longer waste." Receive these vestures rich and rare, These costly gems and jewels fair, And to thy uncle here present Each precious robe and ornament. These for the king and him suffice-- Two hundred millions is their price-- These, worth a hundred millions, be Reserved, O large-eyed Prince, for thee."

Will find no faithful followers heed Their master in his hour of need. The friend on whom he most relies, In danger, from a monarch flies, Imperious in his high estate, Conceited, proud, and passionate; Who ne'er to state affairs attends With wholesome fear when woe impends Most weak and worthless as the grass, Soon from his sway the realm will pass. For rotting wood a use is found, For clods and dust that strew the ground, But when a king has lost his sway, Useless he falls, and sinks for aye. As raiment by another worn, As faded garland crushed and torn, So is, unthroned, the proudest king, Though mighty once, a useless thing. But he who every sense subdues And each event observant views, Rewards the good and keeps from wrong, Shall reign secure and flourish long. Though lulled in sleep his senses lie He watches with a ruler's eye, Untouched by favour, ire, and hate, And him the people celebrate. O weak of mind, without a trace Of virtues that a king should grace, Who hast not learnt from watchful spy That low in death the giants lie. Scorner of others, but enchained By every base desire, By thee each duty is disdained Which time and place require. Soon wilt thou, if thou canst not learn, Ere yet it be too late, The good from evil to discern, Fall from thy high estate." As thus she ceased not to upbraid The king with cutting speech, And every fault to view displayed, Naming and marking each, The monarch of the sons of night, Of wealth and power possessed, And proud of his imperial might, Long pondered in his breast.

Then thus to King Bhagirath said Brahma, when, coming at the head Of all his bright celestial train, He saw those spirits freed from stain: "Well done! great Prince of men, well done! Thy kinsmen bliss and heaven have won. The sons of Sagar mighty-souled, Are with the Blest, as Gods, enrolled, Long as the Ocean's flood shall stand Upon the border of the land, So long shall Sagar's sons remain, And, godlike, rank in heaven retain. Ganga thine eldest child shall be, Called from thy name Bhagirathi; Named also--for her waters fell From heaven and flow through earth and hell-- Tripathaga, stream of the skies, Because three paths she glorifies. And, mighty King, 'tis given thee now To free thee and perform thy vow. No longer, happy Prince, delay Drink-offerings to thy kin to pay. For this the holiest Sagar sighed, But mourned the boon he sought denied. Then Ansuman, dear Prince! although No brighter name the world could show, Strove long the heavenly flood to gain To visit earth, but strove in vain. Nor was she by the sages' peer, Blest with all virtues, most austere, Thy sire Dilipa, hither brought, Though with fierce prayers the boon he sought. But thou, O King, earned success, And won high fame which God will bless. Through thee, O victor of thy foes, On earth this heavenly Ganga flows, And thou hast gained the meed divine That waits on virtue such as thine. Now in her ever holy wave Thyself, O best of heroes, lave: So shalt thou, pure from every sin, The blessed fruit of merit win. Now for thy kin who died of yore The meet libations duly pour. Above the heavens I now ascend: Depart, and bliss thy steps attend."

With him, his best and eldest son, By all his princely virtues won King Dasaratha(24) willed to share His kingdom as the Regent Heir. But when Kaikeyi, youngest queen, With eyes of envious hate had seen The solemn pomp and regal state Prepared the prince to consecrate, She bade the hapless king bestow Two gifts he promised long ago, That Rama to the woods should flee, And that her child the heir should be.

Thus spoke the prince: King Guha heard Delighted every prudent word, And gazing on that forest wide, Raised suppliant hands, and thus replied: "My servants, all the ground who know, O glorious Prince, with thee shall go With constant care thy way to guide, And I will journey by thy side. But this thy host so wide dispread Wakes in my heart one doubt and dread, Lest, threatening Rama good and great, Ill thoughts thy journey stimulate."

King Ravan, by his pleading moved, The counsel of the chief approved: "Thy words are wise and true: to kill An envoy would beseem us ill. Yet must we for his crime invent Some fitting mode of punishment. The tail, I fancy, is the part Most cherished by a monkey's heart. Make ready: set his tail aflame, And let him leave us as he came, And thus disfigured and disgraced Back to his king and people haste."

To him the king high honour showed, And store of wealth and gifts bestowed, The choicest elephants to ride, And skins and blankets deftly dyed, A thousand strings of golden beads, And sixteen hundred mettled steeds: And boundless wealth before him piled Gave Kekaya to Kaikeyi's child. And men of counsel, good and tried, On whose firm truth he aye relied, King Asvapati gave with speed Prince Bharat on his way to lead. And noble elephants, strong and young, From sires of Indrasira sprung, And others tall and fair to view Of great Airavat's lineage true: And well yoked asses fleet of limb The prince his uncle gave to him. And dogs within the palace bred, Of body vast and massive head, With mighty fangs for battle, brave, The tiger's match in strength, he gave. Yet Bharat's bosom hardly glowed To see the wealth the king bestowed; For he would speed that hour away, Such care upon his bosom lay: Those eager envoys urged him thence, And that sad vision's influence. He left his court-yard, crowded then With elephants and steeds and men, And, peerless in immortal fame, To the great royal street he came. He saw, as farther still he went, The inner rooms most excellent, And passed the doors, to him unclosed, Where check nor bar his way oppossd. There Bharat stayed to bid adieu To grandsire and to uncle too, Then, with Satrughna by his side, Mounting his car, away he hied. The strong-wheeled cars were yoked, and they More than a hundred, rolled away: Servants, with horses, asses, kine, Followed their lord in endless line. So, guarded by his own right hand, Forth high-souled Bharat hied, Surrounded by a lordly band On whom the king relied. Beside him sat Satrughna dear, The scourge of trembling foes: Thus from the light of Indra's sphere A saint made perfect goes.

The Lord of life the skies regained: The fervent king a year remained With arms upraised, refusing rest While with one toe the earth he pressed, Still as a post, with sleepless eye, The air his food, his roof the sky. The year had past. Then Uma's lord,(198) King of creation, world adored, Thus spoke to great Bhagirath: "I, Well pleased thy wish will gratify, And on my head her waves shall fling The daughter of the Mountains' King!"

Then Janak, best of kings, aware Of Visvamitra lodging there, With Satananda for his guide-- The priest on whom he most relied, His chaplain void of guile and stain-- And others of his priestly train, Bearing the gift that greets the guest, To meet him with all honour pressed. The saint received with gladsome mind Each honour and observance kind: Then of his health he asked the king, And how his rites were prospering, Janak, with chaplain and with priest, Addressed the hermits, chief and least, Accosting all, in due degree, With proper words of courtesy. Then, with his palms together laid, The king his supplication made: "Deign, reverend lord, to sit thee down With these good saints of high renown." Then sate the chief of hermits there, Obedient to the monarch's prayer. Chaplain and priest, and king and peer, Sate in their order, far or near. Then thus the king began to say: "The Gods have blest my rite to-day, And with the sight of thee repaid The preparations I have made. Grateful am I, so highly blest, That thou, of saints the holiest, Hast come, O Brahman, here with all These hermits to the festival. Twelve days, O Brahman Sage, remain-- For so the learned priests ordain-- And then, O heir of Kusik's name, The Gods will come their dues to claim."

The prince of men a league away Saw where the hermit's dwelling lay, Then with his lords his path pursued, And left his warrior multitude. On foot, as duty taught his mind, He left his warlike gear behind; Two robes of linen cloth he wore, And bade Vasishtha walk before. Then Bharat from his lords withdrew When Bharadvaja came in view, And toward the holy hermit went Behind Vasishtha, reverent. When Bharadvaja, saint austere, Saw good Vasishtha drawing near, He cried, upspringing from his seat, "The grace-gift bring, my friend to greet." When Saint Vasishtha near him drew, And Bharat paid the reverence due, The glorious hermit was aware That Dasaratha's son was there. The grace-gift, water for their feet He gave, and offered fruit to eat; Then, duty-skilled, with friendly speech In seemly order questioned each: "How fares it in Ayodhya now With treasury and army? how With kith and kin and friends most dear, With councillor, and prince, and peer?" But, for he knew the king was dead, Of Dasaratha naught he said. Vasishtha and the prince in turn Would of the hermit's welfare learn: Of holy fires they fain would hear, Of pupils, trees, and birds, and deer. The glorious saint his answer made That all was well in holy shade: Then love of Rama moved his breast, And thus he questioned of his guest: "Why art thou here, O Prince, whose band With kingly sway protects the land? Declare the cause, explain the whole, For yet some doubt disturbs my soul. He whom Kausalya bare, whose might The foemen slays, his line's delight, He who with wife and brother sent Afar now roam in banishment, Famed prince, to whom his father spake This order for a woman's sake: "Away! and in the forest spend Thy life till fourteen years shall end"-- Has thou the wish to harm him, bent On sin against the innocent? Wouldst thou thine elder's realm enjoy Without a thorn that can annoy?"

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.

Then Saint Vasishtha to the king Came ready at his summoning. "Now go," exclaimed the monarch, "thou Enriched by fervent rite and vow, For Rama and his wife ordain The fast, that joy may bless his reign."

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."

This answered, to Sugriva then Thus spake anew the king of men: "Do thou who knowest right ordain Prince Angad consort of thy reign; For he is noble, true, and bold, And trained a righteous course to hold Gifts like his sire's that youth adorn Born eldest to the eldest born. This is the month of Sravan,(612) first Of those that see the rain-clouds burst. Four months, thou knowest well, extends The season when the rain descends. No time for deeds of war is this: Seek thou thy fair metropolis, And I with Lakshman, O my friend, The time upon this hill will spend. An ample cavern opens there Made lovely by the mountain air, And lotuses and lilies fill The pleasant lake and murmuring rill. When Kartik's(613) month shall clear the skies, Then tempt the mighty enterprise. Now, chieftain to thy home repair, And be anointed sovereign there."

He told him of their ties beyond Their old affection's faithful bond: "This king," he said, "from days of old A well beloved friend I hold. To me this pearl of dames he gave From childless woe mine age to save, The daughter whom he loved so much, Moved by compassion's gentle touch. In him thy Santas father see: As I am even so is he. For sons the childless monarch yearns: To thee alone for help he turns. Go thou, the sacred rite ordain To win the sons he prays to gain: Go, with thy wife thy succour lend, And give his vows a blissful end." The hermit's son with quick accord Obeyed the Angas' mighty lord, And with fair Santa at his side To Dasaratha's city hied. Each king, with suppliant hands upheld, Gazed on the other's face: And then by mutual love impelled Met in a close embrace. Then Dasaratha's thoughtful care, Before he parted thence, Bade trusty servants homeward bear The glad intelligence: "Let all the town be bright and gay With burning incense sweet; Let banners wave, and water lay The dust in every street." Glad were the citizens to learn The tidings of their lord's return, And through the city every man Obediently his task began. And fair and bright Ayodhya showed, As following his guest he rode Through the full streets where shell and drum Proclaimed aloud the king was come. And all the people with delight Kept gazing on their king, Attended by that youth so bright, The glorious Rishyasring. When to his home the king had brought The hermit's saintly son, He deemed that all his task was wrought, And all he prayed for won. And lords who saw that stranger dame So beautiful to view, Rejoiced within their hearts, and came And paid her honour too. There Rishyasring passed blissful days, Graced like the king with love and praise And shone in glorious light with her, Sweet Santa, for his minister, As Brahma's son Vasishtha, he Who wedded Saint Arundhati.(84)

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?"

The father, swift to feel for woe, Shall on his friend his child bestow; And he shall take her and depart To his own town with joyous heart. The maiden home in triumph led, To Rishyasring the king shall wed. And he with loving joy and pride Shall take her for his honoured bride. And Dasaratha to a rite That best of Brahmans shall invite With supplicating prayer, To celebrate the sacrifice To win him sons and Paradise,(83) That he will fain prepare. From him the lord of men at length The boon he seeks shall gain, And see four sons of boundless strength His royal line maintain." "Thus did the godlike saint of old The will of fate declare, And all that should befall unfold Amid the sages there. O Prince supreme of men, go thou, Consult thy holy guide, And win, to aid thee in thy vow, This Brahman to thy side." Sumantra's counsel, wise and good, King Dasaratha heard, Then by Vasishtha's side he stood And thus with him conferred: "Sumantra counsels thus: do thou My priestly guide, the plan allow." Vasishtha gave his glad consent, And forth the happy monarch went With lords and servants on the road That led to Rishyasring's abode. Forests and rivers duly past, He reached the distant town at last Of Lomapad the Angas' king, And entered it with welcoming. On through the crowded streets he came, And, radiant as the kindled flame, He saw within the monarch's house The hermit's son most glorious. There Lomapad, with joyful breast, To him all honour paid, For friendship for his royal guest His faithful bosom swayed. Thus entertained with utmost care Seven days, or eight, he tarried there, And then that best of men thus broke His purpose to the king, and spoke: "O King of men, mine ancient friend, (Thus Dasaratha prayed) Thy Santa with her husband send My sacrifice to aid." Said he who ruled the Angas, Yea, And his consent was won: And then at once he turned away To warn the hermit's son.

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."

Preserve us, for on thee we call, Our sire, Kaikeyi, me and all Thy citizens, thy kith and kin; Preserve us and reverse the sin. To live in woods a devotee Can scarce with royal tasks agree, Nor can the hermit's matted hair Suit fitly with a ruler's care. Do not, my brother, do not still Pursue this life that suits thee ill. Mid duties of a king we count His consecration paramount, That he with ready heart and hand May keep his people and his land. What Warrior born to royal sway From certain good would turn away, A doubtful duty to pursue, That mocks him with the distant view? Thou wouldst to duty cleave, and gain The meed that follows toil and pain. In thy great task no labour spare: Rule the four castes with justest care. Mid all the four, the wise prefer The order of the householder:(383) Canst thou, whose thoughts to duty cleave, The best of all the orders leave? My better thou in lore divine, My birth, my sense must yield to thine: While thou, my lord, art here to reign, How shall my hands the rule maintain? O faithful lover of the right, Take with thy friends the royal might, Let thy sires' realm, from trouble free, Obey her rightful king in thee. Here let the priests and lords of state Our monarch duly consecrate, With prayer and holy verses blessed By saint Vasishtha and the rest. Anointed king by us, again Seek fair Ayodhya, there to reign, And like imperial Indra girt By Gods of Storm, thy might assert. From the three debts(384) acquittance earn, And with thy wrath the wicked burn, O'er all of us thy rule extend, And cheer with boons each faithful friend. Let thine enthronement, lord, this day Make all thy lovers glad and gay, And let all those who hate thee flee To the ten winds for fear of thee. Dear lord, my mother's words of hate With thy sweet virtues expiate, And from the stain of folly clear The father whom we both revere.

The giant lord the chariot viewed, And humbly thus his speech renewed: "Behold, O King, the car prepared: Now be thy further will declared." He ceased: and Rama spake once more: "These hosts who thronged to Lanka's shore Their faith and might have nobly shown, And set thee on the giants' throne. Let pearls and gems and gold repay The feats of many a desperate day, That all may go triumphant hence Proud of their noble recompense." Vibhishan, ready at his call, With gold and gems enriched them all. Then Rama clomb the glorious car That shone like day's resplendent star. There in his lap he held his dame Vailing her eyes in modest shame. Beside him Lakshman took his stand, Whose mighty bow still armed his hand, "O King Vibhishan," Rama cried, "O Vanar chiefs, so long allied, My comrades till the foemen fell, List, for I speak a long farewell. The task, in doubt and fear begun, With your good aid is nobly done. Leave Lanka's shore, your steps retrace, Brave warriors of the Vanar race. Thou, King Sugriva, true, through all, To friendship's bond and duty's call, Seek far Kishkindha with thy train And o'er thy realm in glory reign. Farewell, Vibhishan, Lanka's throne Won by our arms is now thine own, Thou, mighty lord, hast nought to dread From heavenly Gods by Indra led. My last farewell, 0 King, receive, For Lanka's isle this hour I leave."

With taunts like these her bitter tongue The heart of blameless Bharat wrung And direr pangs his bosom tore Than when the lancet probes a sore. With troubled senses all astray Prone at her feet he fell and lay. With loud lament a while he plained, And slowly strength and sense regained. With suppliant hand to hand applied He turned to her who wept and sighed, And thus bespake the queen, whose breast With sundry woes was sore distressed: "Why these reproaches, noble dame? I, knowing naught, am free from blame. Thou knowest well what love was mine For Rama, chief of Raghu's line. O, never be his darkened mind To Scripture's guiding lore inclined, By whose consent the prince who led The good, the truthful hero, fled. May he obey the vilest lord, Offend the sun with act abhorred,(350) And strike a sleeping cow, who lent His voice to Rama's banishment. May the good king who all befriends, And, like his sons, the people tends, Be wronged by him who gave consent To noble Rama's banishment. On him that king's injustice fall, Who takes, as lord, a sixth of all, Nor guards, neglectful of his trust, His people, as a ruler must. The crime of those who swear to fee, At holy rites, some devotee, And then the promised gift deny, Be his who willed the prince should fly. When weapons clash and heroes bleed, With elephant and harnessed steed, Ne'er, like the good, be his to fight Whose heart allowed the prince's flight. Though taught with care by one expert May he the Veda's text pervert, With impious mind on evil bent, Whose voice approved the banishment. May he with traitor lips reveal Whate'er he promised to conceal, And bruit abroad his friend's offence, Betrayed by generous confidence. No wife of equal lineage born The wretch's joyless home adorn: Ne'er may he do one virtuous deed, And dying see no child succeed. When in the battle's awful day Fierce warriors stand in dread array, Let the base coward turn and fly, And smitten by the foeman, die.

Thus all the princely Vanars, true To their appointed tasks, withdrew. Sugriva deemed already done The work he planned for Raghu's son. Then Lakshman gently spoke and cheered Sugriva for his valour feared: "Now, chieftain, if thy will be so, Forth from Kishkindha let us go." Sugriva's heart swelled high with pride As to the prince he thus replied: "Come, speed we forth without delay: 'Tis mine thy mandate to obey." Sugriva bade the dames adieu, And Tara and the rest withdrew. Then at their chieftain's summons came The Vanars first in rank and fame, A trusty brave and reverent band, Meet e'en before a queen to stand. They at his call made haste to bring The litter of the glorious king. "Mount, O my friend." Sugriva cried, And straight Sumitra's son complied. Then took by Lakshman's side his place The sovereign of the woodland race, Upraised by Vanars, fleet and strong, Who bore the glittering load along. On high above his royal head A paly canopy was spread, And chouries white in many a hand The forehead of the monarch fanned, And shell and drum and song and shout Pealed round him as the king passed out. About the monarch went a throng Of Vanar warriors brave and strong, As onward to the mountain shade Where Rama dwelt his way he made. Soon as the lovely spot he viewed Where Rama lived in solitude, The Vanar monarch, far-renowed, With Lakshman, lightly stepped to ground, And to the son of Raghu went Joining his raised hands reverent. As their great leader raised his hands, So suppliant stood the Vanar bands. Well pleased the son of Raghu saw Those legions, hushed in reverent awe, Stand silent like the tranquil floods That raise their hands of lotus buds. But Rama, when the king, to greet His friend, had bowed him at his feet, Raised him who ruled the Vanar race, And held him in a close embrace: Then, when his arms he had unknit, Besought him by his side to sit, And thus with gentle words the best Of men the Vanar king addressed:

Thus spoke the angry king: the two Cried, Long live Ravan, and withdrew, The giant monarch turned and cried To strong Mahodar at his side: "Go thou, and spies more faithful bring. More duteous to their lord the king."

As, clad in mendicant's disguise, He questioned thus his destined prize, She to the seeming saintly man The story of her life began. "My guest is he," she thought, "and I, To 'scape his curse, must needs reply:" "Child of a noble sire I spring From Janak, fair Videha's king. May every good be thine! my name Is Sita, Rama's cherished dame. Twelve winters with my lord I spent Most happily with sweet content In the rich home of Raghu's line, And every earthly joy was mine. Twelve pleasant years flew by, and then His peers advised the king of men, Rama, my lord, to consecrate Joint ruler of his ancient state. But when the rites were scarce begun, To consecrate Ikshvaku's son, The queen Kaikeyi, honoured dame, Sought of her lord an ancient claim. Her plea of former service pressed, And made him grant her new request, To banish Rama to the wild And consecrate instead her child. This double prayer on him, the best And truest king, she strongly pressed: "Mine eyes in sleep I will not close, Nor eat, nor drink, nor take repose. This very day my death shall bring If Rama be anointed king." As thus she spake in envious ire, The aged king, my husband's sire, Besought with fitting words; but she Was cold and deaf to every plea. As yet my days are few; eighteen The years of life that I have seen; And Rama, best of all alive, Has passed of years a score and five-- Rama the great and gentle, through All region famed as pure and true, Large-eyed and mighty-armed and tall, With tender heart that cares for all. But Dasaratha, led astray By woman's wile and passion's sway, By his strong love of her impelled, The consecrating rites withheld. When, hopeful of the promised grace, My Rama sought his father's face, The queen Kaikeyi, ill at ease, Spoke to my lord brief words like these: "Hear, son of Raghu, hear from me The words thy father says to thee: "I yield this day to Bharat's hand, Free from all foes, this ancient land.

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."

When the king comes still mournful lie, Speak not a word nor meet his eye, But let thy tears in torrent flow, And lie enamoured of thy woe. Well do I know thou long hast been, And ever art, his darling queen. For thy dear sake, O well-loved dame, The mighty king would brave the flame, But ne'er would anger thee, or brook To meet his favourite's wrathful look. Thy loving lord would even die Thy fancy, Queen, to gratify, And never could he arm his breast To answer nay to thy request. Listen and learn, O dull of sense, Thine all-resistless influence. Gems he will offer, pearls and gold: Refuse his gifts, be stern and cold. Those proffered boons at length recall, And claim them till he grants thee all. And O my lady, high in bliss, With heedful thought forget not this. When from the ground his queen he lifts And grants again the promised gifts, Bind him with oaths he cannot break And thy demands unflnching, make. That Rama travel to the wild Five years and nine from home exiled, And Bharat, best of all who reign, The empire of the land obtain. For when this term of years has fled Over the banished Rama's head, Thy royal son to vigour grown And rooted firm will stand alone. The king, I know, is well inclined, And this the hour to move his mind. Be bold: the threatened rite prevent, And force the king from his intent."

Then high Sugriva's spirit rose, Assured 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.

Thus forth in quest of Sita went The legions King Sugriva sent. To many a distant town they hied By many a lake and river's side. As their great sovereign's order taught, Through valleys, plains, and groves they sought. They toiled unresting through the day: At night upon the ground they lay Where the tall trees, whose branches swayed Beneath their fruit, gave pleasant shade. Then, when a weary month was spent, Back to Prasravan's hill they went, And stood with faces of despair Before their king Sugriva there. Thus, having wandered through the east, Great Vinata his labours ceased, And weary of the fruitless pain Returned to meet the king again, Brave Satabali to the north Had led his Vanar legions forth. Now to Sugriva he sped With all his host dispirited. Sushen the western realms had sought, And homeward now his legions brought. All to Sugriva came, where still He sat with Rama on the hill. Before their sovereign humbly bent And thus addressed him reverent: "On every hill our steps have been, By wood and cave and deep ravine; And all the wandering brooks we know Throughout the land that seaward flow, Our feet by thy command have traced The tangled thicket and the waste, And dens and dingles hard to pass for creeping plants and matted grass. Well have we searched with toil and pain, And monstrous creatures have we slain But Hanuman of noblest mind The Maithil lady yet will find; For to his quarter of the sky(749) The robber fiend was seen to fly."

Now when the high-souled monarch's rite, The Asvamedh, was finished quite, Their sacrificial dues obtained, The Gods their heavenly homes regained. The lofty-minded saints withdrew, Each to his place, with honour due, And kings and chieftains, one and all, Who came to grace the festival. And Dasaratha, ere they went, Addressed them thus benevolent: "Now may you, each with joyful heart, To your own realms, O Kings, depart. Peace and good luck attend you there, And blessing, is my friendly prayer; Let cares of state each mind engage To guard his royal heritage. A monarch from his throne expelled No better than the dead is held. So he who cares for power and might Must guard his realm and royal right. Such care a meed in heaven will bring Better than rites and offering. Such care a king his country owes As man upon himself bestows, When for his body he provides Raiment and every need besides. For future days should kings foresee, And keep the present error-free."

Prince Angad heard and wild with grief Cried as he looked upon the chief: "'Tis Lakshman's self: impelled by ire He seeks the city of my sire." At the fierce words and furious look Of Raghu's son he quailed and shook. Back through the city gates he sped, And, laden with the tale of dread, Sought King Sugriva, filled his ears And Ruma's with his doubts and fears. To Ruma and the king he bent, And clasped their feet most reverent, Clasped the dear feet of Tara, too, And told the startling tale anew.

Quick Guha hastened to produce, For the king's son, that sacred juice. Then Rama of his long locks made, And Lakshman's too, the hermit braid. And the two royal brothers there With coats of bark and matted hair, Transformed in lovely likeness stood To hermit saints who love the wood. So Rama, with his brother bold, A pious anchorite enrolled, Obeyed the vow which hermits take, And to his friend, King Guha, spake: "May people, treasure, army share, And fenced forts, thy constant care: Attend to all: supremely hard The sovereign's task, to watch and guard."

Sumantra, sad and all dismayed, The chieftain's order swift obeyed. Within the palace doors he hied And saw the king, who wept and sighed. Like the great sun when wrapped in shade Like fire by ashes overlaid, Or like a pool with waters dried, So lay the world's great lord and pride, A while the wise Sumantra gazed On him whose senses woe has dazed, Grieving for Rama. Near he drew With hands upraised in reverence due. With blessing first his king he hailed; Then with a voice that well-nigh failed, In trembling accents soft and low Addressed the monarch in his woe: "The prince of men, thy Rama, waits Before thee at the palace gates. His wealth to Brahmans he has dealt, And all who in his home have dwelt. Admit thy son. His friends have heard His kind farewell and parting word, He longs to see thee first, and then Will seek the wilds, O King of men. He, with each princely virtue's blaze, Shines as the sun engirt by rays."

The best of those who Scripture know Said to the king, "My lord, I go." To Rama's house Vasishtha hied, The hero's fast by rule to guide, And skilled in sacred texts to tell Each step to him instructed well. Straight to Prince Rama's high abode, That like a cloud pale-tinted showed, Borne in his priestly car he rode. Two courts he passed, and in the third He stayed his car. Then Rama heard The holy sage was come, and flew To honour him with honour due. He hastened to the car and lent His hand to aid the priest's descent. Then spoke Vasishtha words like these, Pleased with his reverent courtesies, With pleasant things his heart to cheer Who best deserved glad news to hear: "Prince, thou hast won thy father's grace, And thine will be the Regent's place: Now with thy Sita, as is right, In strictest fasting spend the night, For when the morrow's dawn is fair The king will consecrate his heir: So Nahush,(269) as the wise relate, Yayati joyed to consecrate."

Thus to the offspring of the king She spake with tender questioning, And to his mother made reply Young Bharat of the lotus eye: "The seventh night has come and fled Since from my grandsire's home I sped: My mother's sire is well, and he, Yudhajit, from all trouble free. The gold and every precious thing Presented by the conqueror king, The slower guards behind convey: I left them weary on the way. Urged by the men my father sent, My hasty course I hither bent: Now, I implore, an answer deign, And all I wish to know, explain. Unoccupied I now behold This couch of thine adorned with gold, And each of King Ikshvaku's race Appears with dark and gloomy face. The king is aye, my mother dear, Most constant in his visits here. To meet my sire I sought this spot: How is it that I find him not? I long to clasp my father's feet: Say where he lingers, I entreat. Perchance the monarch may be seen Where dwells Kausalya, eldest queen."

Maricha heard the king's request, And thus the giant chief addressed: