The Ramayana Part 11

No one is there in all the land Thine equal for the vigorous hand.

Thou, when thy lips p.r.o.nounce the spell, Shalt have no peer in heaven or h.e.l.l.

None in the world with thee shall vie, O sinless one, in apt reply, In fortune, knowledge, wit, and tact, Wisdom to plan and skill to act.

This double science take, and gain Glory that shall for aye remain.

Wisdom and judgment spring from each Of these fair spells whose use I teach.

Hunger and thirst unknown to thee, High in the worlds thy rank shall be.

For these two spells with might endued, Are the Great Father's heavenly brood, And thee, O Chief, may fitly grace, Thou glory of Kakutstha's race.

Virtues which none can match are thine, Lord, from thy birth, of gifts divine, And now these spells of might shall cast Fresh radiance o'er the gifts thou hast."

Then Rama duly touched the wave, Raised suppliant hands, bowed low his head, And took the spells the hermit gave, Whose soul on contemplation fed.

From him whose might these gifts enhanced, A brighter beam of glory glanced: So shines in all his autumn blaze The Day-G.o.d of the thousand rays.

The hermit's wants those youths supplied, As pupils use to holy guide.

And then the night in sweet content On Sarju's pleasant bank they spent.

Canto XXV. The Hermitage Of Love.

Soon as appeared the morning light Up rose the mighty anchorite, And thus to youthful Rama said, Who lay upon his leafy bed: "High fate is hers who calls thee son: Arise, 'tis break of day; Rise, Chief, and let those rites be done Due at the morning's ray."(151) At that great sage's high behest Up sprang the princely pair, To bathing rites themselves addressed, And breathed the holiest prayer.

Their morning task completed, they To Visvamitra came That store of holy works, to pay The worship saints may claim.

Then to the hallowed spot they went Along fair Sarju's side Where mix her waters confluent With three-pathed Ganga's tide.(152) There was a sacred hermitage Where saints devout of mind Their lives through many a lengthened age To penance had resigned.

That pure abode the princes eyed With unrestrained delight, And thus unto the saint they cried, Rejoicing at the sight: "Whose is that hermitage we see?

Who makes his dwelling there?

Full of desire to hear are we: O Saint, the truth declare."

The hermit smiling made reply To the two boys' request: "Hear, Rama, who in days gone by This calm retreat possessed.

Kandarpa in apparent form, Called Kama(153) by the wise, Dared Uma's(154) new-wed lord to storm And make the G.o.d his prize.

'Gainst Stha?u's(155) self, on rites austere And vows intent,(156) they say, His bold rash hand he dared to rear, Though Stha?u cried, Away!

But the G.o.d's eye with scornful glare Fell terrible on him.

Dissolved the shape that was so fair And burnt up every limb.

Since the great G.o.d's terrific rage Destroyed his form and frame, Kama in each succeeding age Has borne Ananga's(157) name.

So, where his lovely form decayed, This land is Anga styled: Sacred to him of old this shade, And hermits undefiled.

Here Scripture-talking elders sway Each sense with firm control, And penance-rites have washed away All sin from every soul.

One night, fair boy, we here will spend, A pure stream on each hand, And with to-morrow's light will bend Our steps to yonder strand.

Here let us bathe, and free from stain To that pure grove repair, Sacred to Kama, and remain One night in comfort there."

With penance' far-discerning eye The saintly men beheld Their coming, and with transport high Each holy bosom swelled.

To Kusik's son the gift they gave That honoured guest should greet, Water they brought his feet to lave, And showed him honor meet.

Rama and Lakshma? next obtained In due degree their share.

Then with sweet talk the guests remained, And charmed each listener there.

The evening prayers were duly said With voices calm and low: Then on the ground each laid his head And slept till morning's glow.

Canto XXVI. The Forest Of Tadaka.

When the fair light of morning rose The princely tamers of their foes Followed, his morning worship o'er, The hermit to the river's sh.o.r.e.

The high-souled men with thoughtful care A pretty barge had stationed there.

All cried, "O lord, this barge ascend, And with thy princely followers bend To yonder side thy prosperous way With naught to check thee or delay."

Nor did the saint their rede reject: He bade farewell with due respect, And crossed, attended by the twain, That river rushing to the main.

When now the bark was half way o'er, Rama and Lakshma? heard the roar, That louder grew and louder yet, Of waves by dashing waters met.

Then Rama asked the mighty seer: "What is the tumult that I hear Of waters cleft in mid career?"

Soon as the speech of Rama, stirred By deep desire to know, he heard, The pious saint began to tell What paused the waters' roar and swell: "On high Kailasa's distant hill There lies a n.o.ble lake Whose waters, born from Brahma's will, The name of Manas(158) take.

Thence, hallowing where'er they flow, The streams of Sarju fall, And wandering through the plains below Embrace Ayodhya's wall.

Still, still preserved in Sarju's name Sarovar's(159) fame we trace.

The flood of Brahma whence she came To run her holy race.

To meet great Ganga here she hies With tributary wave: Hence the loud roar ye hear arise, Of floods that swell and rave.

Here, pride of Raghu's line, do thou In humble adoration bow."

He spoke. The princes both obeyed, And reverence to each river paid.(160) They reached the southern sh.o.r.e at last, And gaily on their journey pa.s.sed.

A little s.p.a.ce beyond there stood A gloomy awe-inspiring wood.

The monarch's n.o.ble son began To question thus the holy man: "Whose gloomy forest meets mine eye Like some vast cloud that fills the sky?

Pathless and dark it seems to be, Where birds in thousands wander free; Where shrill cicadas' cries resound, And fowl of dismal note abound.

Lion, rhinoceros, and bear, Boar, tiger, elephant, are there, There shrubs and thorns run wild: Dhao, Sal, Bignonia, Bel,(161) are found, And every tree that grows on ground.

How is the forest styled?"

The glorious saint this answer made: "Dear child of Raghu, hear Who dwells within the horrid shade That looks so dark and drear.

Where now is wood, long ere this day Two broad and fertile lands, Malaja and Karusha lay, Adorned by heavenly hands.

Here, mourning friendship's broken ties, Lord Indra of the thousand eyes Hungered and sorrowed many a day, His brightness soiled with mud and clay, When in a storm of pa.s.sion he Had slain his dear friend Namuchi.

Then came the G.o.ds and saints who bore Their golden pitchers br.i.m.m.i.n.g o'er With holy streams that banish stain, And bathed Lord Indra pure again.

When in this land the G.o.d was freed From spot and stain of impious deed For that his own dear friend he slew, High transport thrilled his bosom through.

Then in his joy the lands he blessed, And gave a boon they long possessed: "Because these fertile lands retain The washings of the blot and stain,"

'Twas thus Lord Indra sware, "Malaja and Karusha's name Shall celebrate with deathless fame My malady and care."(162) "So be it," all the Immortals cried, When Indra's speech they heard, And with acclaim they ratified The names his lips conferred.

Long time, O victor of thy foes, These happy lands had sweet repose, And higher still in fortune rose.

At length a spirit, loving ill, Ta?aka, wearing shapes at will, Whose mighty strength, exceeding vast, A thousand elephants, surpa.s.sed, Was to fierce Sunda, lord and head Of all the demon armies, wed.

From her, Lord Indra's peer in might Giant Maricha sprang to light: And she, a constant plague and pest, These two fair realms has long distressed.

Now dwelling in her dark abode A league away she bars the road: And we, O Rama, hence must go Where lies the forest of the foe.

Now on thine own right arm rely, And my command obey: Smite the foul monster that she die, And take the plague away.

To reach this country none may dare Fallen from its old estate, Which she, whose fury naught can bear, Has left so desolate.

And now my truthful tale is told How with accursed sway The spirit plagued this wood of old, And ceases not to-day."

Canto XXVII. The Birth Of Tadaka.

When thus the sage without a peer Had closed that story strange to hear, Rama again the saint addressed To set one lingering doubt at rest: "O holy man, 'tis said by all That spirits' strength is weak and small: How can she match, of power so slight, A thousand elephants in might?"

And Visvamitra thus replied To Raghu's son the glorified: "Listen, and I will tell thee how She gained the strength that arms her now.

A mighty spirit lived of yore; Suketu was the name he bore.

Childless was he, and free from crime In rites austere he pa.s.sed his time.

The mighty Sire was pleased to show His favour, and a child bestow.

Ta?aka named, most fair to see, A pearl among the maids was she, And matched, for such was Brahma's dower, A thousand elephants in power.

Nor would the Eternal Sire, although The spirit longed, a son bestow That maid in beauty's youthful pride Was given to Sunda for a bride.

Her son, Maricha was his name, A giant, through a curse, became.

She, widowed, dared with him molest Agastya,(163) of all saints the best.

Inflamed with hunger's wildest rage, Roaring she rushed upon the sage.

When the great hermit saw her near, On speeding in her fierce career, He thus p.r.o.nounced Maricha's doom: "A giant's form and shape a.s.sume."

And then, by mighty anger swayed, On Ta?aka this curse he laid: "Thy present form and semblance quit, And wear a shape thy mood to fit; Changed form and feature by my ban, A fearful thing that feeds on man."