Hindu literature Part 68

When mighty G.o.ds make men their delegates In martial enterprise, to them belongs The palm of victory; and not to mortals.

Could the pale Dawn dispel the shades of night, Did not the G.o.d of day, whose diadem Is jewelled with a thousand beams of light, Place him in front of his effulgent car?

MaTALI.--A very just comparison. [_Driving on._] Great King, behold! the glory of thy fame has reached even to the vault of heaven.

Hark! yonder inmates of the starry sphere Sing anthems worthy of thy martial deeds, While with celestial colors they depict The story of thy victories on scrolls Formed of the leaves of heaven's immortal trees.

KING.--My good Matali, yesterday, when I ascended the sky, I was so eager to do battle with the demons, that the road by which we were travelling towards Indra's heaven escaped my observation. Tell me, in which path of the seven winds are we now moving?

MaTALI.--We journey in the path of Parivaha; The wind that bears along the triple Ganges, And causes Ursa's seven stars to roll In their appointed orbits, scattering Their several rays with equal distribution.

'Tis the same path that once was sanctified By the divine impression of the foot Of Vishnu, when, to conquer haughty Bali, He spanned the heavens in his second stride.

KING.--This is the reason, I suppose, that a sensation of calm repose pervades all my senses. [_Looking down at the wheels._] Ah! Matali, we are descending towards the earth's atmosphere.

MaTALI.--What makes you think so?

KING.--The car itself instructs me; we are moving O'er pregnant clouds, surcharged with rain; below us I see the moisture-loving Chatakas In sportive flight dart through the spokes; the steeds Of Indra glisten with the lightning's flash; And a thick mist bedews the circling wheels.

MaTALI.--You are right; in a little while the chariot will touch the ground, and you will be in your own dominions.

KING [_looking down_],--How wonderful is the appearance of the earth as we rapidly descend!

Stupendous prospect! yonder lofty hills Do suddenly uprear their towering heads Amid the plain, while from beneath their crests The ground receding sinks; the trees, whose stems Seemed lately hid within their leafy tresses, Rise into elevation, and display Their branching shoulders; yonder streams, whose waters, Like silver threads, but now were scarcely seen, Grow into mighty rivers; lo! the earth Seems upward hurled by some gigantic power.

MaTALI.--Well described! [_Looking with awe._] Grand, indeed, and lovely is the spectacle presented by the earth.

KING.--Tell me, Matali, what is that range of mountains which, like a bank of clouds illumined by the setting sun, pours down a stream of gold? On one side its base dips into the eastern ocean, and on the other side into the western.

MaTALI.--Great Prince, it is called "Golden-peak,"[43] and is the abode of the attendants of the G.o.d of Wealth. In this spot the highest forms of penance are wrought out.

There Kasyapa, the great progenitor Of demons and of G.o.ds, himself the offspring Of the divine Marichi, Brahma's son, With Aditi, his wife, in calm seclusion, Does holy penance for the good of mortals.

KING.--Then I must not neglect so good an opportunity of obtaining his blessing. I should much like to visit this venerable personage and offer him my homage.

MaTALI.--By all means! An excellent idea. [_Guides the car to the earth._]

KING [_in a tone of wonder_].--How's this?

Our chariot wheels move noiselessly. Around No clouds of dust arise; no shock betokened Our contact with the earth; we seem to glide Above the ground, so lightly do we touch it.

MaTALI.--Such is the difference between the car of Indra and that of your Majesty.

KING.--In which direction, Matali, is Kasyapa's sacred retreat?

MaTALI [_pointing_].--Where stands yon anchorite, towards the orb Of the meridian sun, immovable As a tree's stem, his body half-concealed By a huge ant-hill. Round about his breast No sacred cord is twined, but in its stead A hideous serpent's skin. In place of necklace, The tendrils of a withered creeper chafe His wasted neck. His matted hair depends In thick entanglement about his shoulders, And birds construct their nests within its folds.

KING.--I salute thee, thou man of austere devotion.

MaTALI [_holding in the reins of the car_].--Great Prince, we are now in the sacred grove of the holy Kasyapa--the grove that boasts as its ornament one of the five trees of Indra's heaven, reared by Aditi.

KING.--This sacred retreat is more delightful than heaven itself. I could almost fancy myself bathing in a pool of nectar.

MaTALI [_stopping the chariot_].--Descend, mighty Prince.

KING [_descending_].--And what will you do, Matali?

MaTALI.--The chariot will remain where I have stopped it. We may both descend. [_Doing so._] This way, great King, [_Walking on._] You see around you the celebrated region where the holiest sages devote themselves to penitential rites.

KING.--I am filled with awe and wonder as I gaze.

In such a place as this do saints of earth Long to complete their acts of penance; here, Beneath the shade of everlasting trees, Transplanted from the groves of Paradise, May they inhale the balmy air, and need No other nourishment; here may they bathe In fountains sparkling with the golden dust Of lilies; here, on jewelled slabs of marble, In meditation rapt, may they recline; Here, in the presence of celestial nymphs, E'en pa.s.sion's voice is powerless to move them.

MaTALI.--So true is it that the aspirations of the good and great are ever soaring upwards. [_Turning round and speaking off the stage_.] Tell me, Vriddha-sakalya, how is the divine son of Marichi now engaged? What sayest thou? that he is conversing with Aditi and some of the wives of the great sages, and that they are questioning him respecting the duties of a faithful wife?

KING [_listening_].--Then we must await the holy father's leisure.

MaTALI [_looking at the King_].--If your Majesty will rest under the shade, at the foot of this Asoka-tree, I will seek an opportunity of announcing your arrival to Indra's reputed father.

KING.--As you think proper. [_Remains under the tree_.

MaTALI.--Great King, I go. [_Exit._

KING [_feeling his arm throb_].--Wherefore this causeless throbbing, O mine arm?

All hope has fled forever; mock me not With presages of good, when happiness Is lost, and nought but misery remains.

A VOICE [_behind the scenes_].--Be not so naughty. Do you begin already to show a refractory spirit?

KING [_listening_].--This is no place for petulance. Who can it be whose behavior calls for such a rebuke? [_Looking in the direction of the sound and smiling_.] A child, is it? closely attended by two holy women.

His disposition seems anything but childlike. See, He braves the fury of yon lioness Suckling its savage offspring, and compels The angry whelp to leave the half-sucked dug, Tearing its tender mane in boisterous sport.

_Enter a child, attended by two women of the hermitage, In the manner described_.

CHILD.--Open your mouth, my young lion, I want to count your teeth.

FIRST ATTENDANT.--You naughty child, why do you tease the animals? Know you not that we cherish them in this hermitage as if they were our own children? In good sooth, you have a high spirit of your own, and are beginning already to do justice to the name Sarva-damana (All-taming), given you by the hermits.

KING.--Strange! My heart inclines towards the boy with almost as much affection as if he were my own child. What can be the reason? I suppose my own childlessness makes me yearn towards the sons of others.

SECOND ATTENDANT.--This lioness will certainly attack you if you do not release her whelp.

CHILD [_laughing_].--Oh! indeed! let her come. Much I fear her, to be sure. [_Pouts his under-lip in defiance_.

KING.--The germ of mighty courage lies concealed Within this n.o.ble infant, like a spark Beneath the fuel, waiting but a breath To fan the flame and raise a conflagration.

FIRST ATTENDANT.--Let the young lion go, like a dear child, and I will give you something else to play with.

CHILD.--Where is it? Give it me first.

[_Stretches out his hand._

KING [_looking at his hand_].--How's this? His hand exhibits one of those mystic marks which are the sure prognostic of universal empire.

See!

His fingers stretched in eager expectation To grasp the wished-for toy, and knit together By a close-woven web, in shape resemble A lotus-blossom, whose expanding petals The early dawn has only half unfolded.

SECOND ATTENDANT.--We shall never pacify him by mere words, dear Suvrata. Be kind enough to go to my cottage, and you will find there a plaything belonging to Markandeya, one of the hermit's children. It is a peac.o.c.k made of China-ware, painted in many colors. Bring it here for the child.