The Ramayana Part 36

Once as the monarch's fury woke, "Shame on thee!" from his bosom broke, And then in sense-bewildering pain He fainted on the ground again.

At length, when slowly strength returned, He answered as his eyeb.a.l.l.s burned With the wild fury of his ire Consuming her, as 'twere, with fire: "Fell traitress, thou whose thoughts design The utter ruin of my line, What wrong have I or Rama done?

Speak murderess, speak thou wicked one, Seeks he not evermore to please Thee with all sonlike courtesies?

By what persuasion art thou led To bring this ruin on his head?

Ah me, that fondly unaware I brought thee home my life to share, Called daughter of a king, in truth A serpent with a venomed tooth!

What fault can I pretend to find In Rama praised by all mankind, That I my darling should forsake?

No, take my life, my glory take: Let either queen be from me torn, But not my well-loved eldest-born.

Him but to see is highest bliss, And death itself his face to miss.

The world may sunless stand, the grain May thrive without the genial rain, But if my Rama be not nigh My spirit from its frame will fly.

Enough, thine impious plan forgo, O thou who plottest sin and woe.

My head before thy feet, I kneel, And pray thee some compa.s.sion feel.

O wicked dame, what can have led Thy heart to dare a plot so dread?

Perchance thy purpose is to sound The grace thy son with me has found; Perchance the words that, all these days, Thou still hast said in Rama's praise, Were only feigned, designed to cheer With flatteries a father's ear.

Soon as thy grief, my Queen, I knew, My bosom felt the anguish too.

In empty halls art thou possessed, And subject to anothers' hest?

Now on Ikshvaku's ancient race Falls foul disorder and disgrace, If thou, O Queen, whose heart so long Has loved the good should choose the wrong.

Not once, O large-eyed dame, hast thou Been guilty of offence till now, Nor said a word to make me grieve, Now will I now thy sin believe.

With thee my Rama used to hold Like place with Bharat lofty-souled.

As thou so often, when the pair Were children yet, wouldst fain declare.

And can thy righteous soul endure That Rama glorious, pious, pure, Should to the distant wilds be sent For fourteen years of banishment?

Yea, Rama Bharat's self exceeds In love to thee and sonlike deeds, And, for deserving love of thee, As Bharat, even so is he.

Who better than that chieftain may Obedience, love, and honour pay, Thy dignity with care protect, Thy slightest word and wish respect?

Of all his countless followers none Can breathe a word against my son; Of many thousands not a dame Can hint reproach or whisper blame.

All creatures feel the sweet control Of Rama's pure and gentle soul.

The pride of Manu's race he binds To him the people's grateful minds.

He wins the subjects with his truth, The poor with gifts and gentle ruth, His teachers with his docile will, The foemen with his archer skill.

Truth, purity, religious zeal, The hand to give, the heart to feel, The love that ne'er betrays a friend, The rect.i.tude that naught can bend, Knowledge, and meek obedience grace My Rama pride of Raghu's race.

Canst thou thine impious plot design 'Gainst him in whom these virtues shine, Whose glory with the sages vies, Peer of the G.o.ds who rule the skies!

From him no harsh or bitter word To pain one creature have I heard, And how can I my son address, For thee, with words of bitterness?

Have mercy, Queen: some pity show To see my tears of anguish flow, And listen to my mournful cry, A poor old man who soon must die.

Whate'er this sea-girt land can boast Of rich and rare from coast to coast, To thee, my Queen, I give it all: But O, thy deadly words recall: O see, my suppliant hands entreat, Again my lips are on thy feet: Save Rama, save my darling child, Nor kill me with this sin defiled."

He grovelled on the ground, and lay To burning grief a senseless prey, And ever and anon, a.s.sailed By floods of woe he wept and wailed, Striving with eager speed to gain The margent of his sea of pain.

With fiercer words she fiercer yet The hapless father's pleading met: "O Monarch, if thy soul repent The promise and thy free consent, How wilt thou in the world maintain Thy fame for truth unsmirched with stain?

When gathered kings with thee converse, And bid thee all the tale rehea.r.s.e, What wilt thou say, O truthful King, In answer to their questioning?

"She to whose love my life I owe, Who saved me smitten by the foe, Kaikeyi, for her tender care, Was cheated of the oath I sware."

Thus wilt thou answer, and forsworn Wilt draw on thee the princes' scorn.

Learn from that tale, the Hawk and Dove,(275) How strong for truth was Saivya's love.

Pledged by his word the monarch gave His flesh the suppliant bird to save.

So King Alarka gave his eyes, And gained a mansion in the skies.

The Sea himself his promise keeps, And ne'er beyond his limit sweeps.

My deeds of old again recall, Nor let thy bond dishonoured fall.

The rights of truth thou wouldst forget, Thy Rama on the throne to set, And let thy days in pleasure glide, Fond King, Kausalya by thy side.

Now call it by what name thou wilt, Justice, injustice, virtue, guilt, Thy word and oath remain the same, And thou must yield what thus I claim.

If Rama be anointed, I This very day will surely die, Before thy face will poison drink, And lifeless at thy feet will sink.

Yea, better far to die than stay Alive to see one single day The crowds before Kausalya stand And hail her queen with reverent hand.

Now by my son, myself, I swear, No gift, no promise whatsoe'er My steadfast soul shall now content, But only Rama's banishment."

So far she spake by rage impelled, And then the queen deep silence held.

He heard her speech full fraught with ill, But spoke no word bewildered still, Gazed on his love once held so dear Who spoke unlovely rede to hear; Then as he slowly pondered o'er The queen's resolve and oath she swore.

Once sighing forth, Ah Rama! he Fell p.r.o.ne as falls a smitten tree.

His senses lost like one insane, Faint as a sick man weak with pain, Or like a wounded snake dismayed, So lay the king whom earth obeyed.

Long burning sighs he slowly heaved, As, conquered by his woe, he grieved, And thus with tears and sobs between His sad faint words addressed the queen:

"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.

In spite of all her tender care, Her n.o.ble son, her face most fair, Another queen I could prefer And for thy sake neglected her, But now, O Queen, my heart is grieved For love and care by thee received, E'en as the sickening wretch repents His dainty meal and condiments.

And how will Queen Sumitra trust The husband whom she finds unjust, Seeing my Rama driven hence Dishonoured, and for no offence?

Ah! the Videhan bride will hear A double woe, a double fear, Two whelming sorrows at one breath, Her lord's disgrace, his father's death.

Mine aged bosom she will wring And kill me with her sorrowing, Sad as a fair nymph left to weep Deserted on Himalaya's steep.

For short will be my days, I ween, When I with mournful eyes have seen My Rama wandering forth alone And heard dear Sita sob and moan.

Ah me! my fond belief I rue.

Vile traitress, loved as good and true, As one who in his thirst has quaffed, Deceived by looks, a deadly draught.

Ah! thou hast slain me, murderess, while Soothing my soul with words of guile, As the wild hunter kills the deer Lured from the brake his song to hear.

Soon every honest tongue will fling Reproach on the dishonest king; The people's scorn in every street The seller of his child will meet, And such dishonour will be mine As whelms a Brahman drunk with wine.

Ah me, for my unhappy fate, Compelled thy words to tolerate!

Such woe is sent to scourge a crime Committed in some distant time.

For many a day with sinful care I cherished thee, thou sin and snare, Kept thee, unwitting, like a cord Destined to bind its hapless lord.

Mine hours of ease I spent with thee, Nor deemed my love my death would be, While like a heedless child I played, On a black snake my hand I laid.

A cry from every mouth will burst And all the world will hold me curst, Because I saw my high-souled son Unkinged, unfathered, and undone; "The king by power of love beguiled Is weaker than a foolish child, His own beloved son to make An exile for a woman's sake.

By chaste and holy vows restrained, By reverend teachers duly trained.

When he his virtue's fruit should taste He falls by sin and woe disgraced."

Two words will all his answer be When I p.r.o.nounce the stern decree, "Hence, Rama, to the woods away,"

All he will say is, I obey.

O, if he would my will withstand When banished from his home and land, This were a comfort in my woe; But he will ne'er do this, I know.

My Rama to the forest fled, And curses thick upon my head, Grim Death will bear me hence away, His world-abominated prey.

When I am gone and Rama too.

How wilt thou those I love pursue?

What vengeful sin will be designed Against the queens I leave behind?

When thou hast slain her son and me Kausalya soon will follow: she Will sink beneath her sorrows' weight, And die like me disconsolate.

Exist, Kaikeyi, in thy pride, And let thy heart be gratified, When thou my queens and me hast hurled, And children, to the under world.

Soon wilt thou rule as empress o'er My n.o.ble house unvext before.

But then to wild confusion left, Of Rama and of me bereft.

If Bharat to thy plan consent And long for Rama's banishment, Ne'er let his hands presume to pay The funeral honours to my clay.