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Now, mother, speed thy parting son, And let thy blessing soothe my pain, That I may turn, mine exile done, Like King Yayati, home again.
Fair glory and the fruit she gives, For l.u.s.t of sway I ne'er will slight: What, for the span a mortal lives.
Were rule of faith without the right?"
He soothed her thus, firm to the last His counsel to his brother told: Then round the queen in reverence pa.s.sed, And held her in his loving hold.
Canto XXII. Lakshman Calmed.
So Rama kept unshaken still His n.o.ble heart with iron will.
To his dear brother next he turned, Whose glaring eyes with fury burned, Indignant, panting like a snake, And thus again his counsel spake: "Thine anger and thy grief restrain, And firm in duty's path remain.
Dear brother, lay thy scorn aside, And be the right thy joy and pride.
Thy ready zeal and thoughtful care To aid what rites should grace the heir,- These 'tis another's now to ask; Come, gird thee for thy n.o.ble task, That Bharat's throning rites may he Graced with the things prepared for me.
And with thy gentle care provide That her fond heart, now sorely tried With fear and longing for my sake, With doubt and dread may never ache.
To know that thoughts of coming ill One hour that tender bosom fill With agony and dark despair Is grief too great for me to bear.
I cannot, brother, call to mind One wilful fault or undesigned, When I have pained in anything My mothers or my sire the king.
The right my father keeps in view, In promise, word, and action true; Let him then all his fear dismiss, Nor dread the loss of future bliss.
He fears his truth herein will fail: Hence bitter thoughts his heart a.s.sail.
He trembles lest the rites proceed, And at his pangs my heart should bleed.
So now this earnest wish is mine, The consecration to resign, And from this city turn away To the wild wood with no delay.
My banishment to-day will free Kaikeyi from her cares, that she, At last contented and elate, May Bharat's throning celebrate.
Then will the lady's trouble cease, Then will her heart have joy and peace, When wandering in the wood I wear Deerskin, and bark, and matted hair.
Nor shall by me his heart be grieved Whose choice approved, whose mind conceived This counsel which I follow. No, Forth to the forest will I go.
'Tis Fate, Sumitras son, confess, That sends me to the wilderness.
'Tis Fate alone that gives away To other hands the royal sway.
How could Kaikeyi's purpose bring On me this pain and suffering, Were not her change of heart decreed By Fate whose will commands the deed?
I know my filial love has been The same throughout for every queen, And with the same affection she Has treated both her son and me.
Her shameful words of cruel spite To stay the consecrating rite, And drive me banished from the throne,- These I ascribe to Fate alone, How could she, born of royal race, Whom nature decks with fairest grace, Speak like a dame of low degree Before the king to torture me?
But Fate, which none may comprehend, To which all life must bow and bend, In her and me its power has shown, And all my hopes are overthrown.
What man, Sumitra's darling, may Contend with Fate's resistless sway, Whose all-commanding power we find Our former deeds alone can bind?
Our life and death, our joy and pain, Anger and fear, and loss and gain, Each thing that is, in every state, All is the work of none but Fate.
E'en saints, inspired with rigid zeal, When once the stroke of Fate they feel, In sternest vows no more engage, And fall enslaved by love and rage.
So now the sudden stroke whose weight Descends unlooked for, comes of Fate, And with unpitying might destroys The promise of commencing joys.
Weigh this true counsel in thy soul: With thy firm heart thy heart control; Then, brother, thou wilt cease to grieve For hindered rites which now I leave.
So cast thy needless grief away, And strictly my commands obey.
Those preparations check with speed, Nor let my throning rites proceed.
Those urns that stand prepared to shed King-making drops upon my head, Shall, with their pure l.u.s.trations now Inaugurate my hermit's vow.
Yet what have I to do with things That touch the state and pomp of kings?
These hands of mine shall water take To sanctify the vow I make.
Now Lakshma?, let thy heart no more My fortune changed and lost deplore.
A forest life more joys may bring Than those that wait upon a king, Now though her arts successful mar My consecrating rite, Let not the youngest queen too far Thy jealous fear excite.
Nor let one thought suggesting ill Upon our father fall, But let thy heart remember still That Fate is lord of all."
Canto XXIII. Lakshman's Anger.
Thus Rama to his brother said; And Lakshma? bent his drooping head.
In turns by grief and pride impelled, A middle course of thought he held, Then in a frown of anger, bent His brows that chief most excellent, And like a serpent in his hole, Breathed fierce and fast in wrath of soul.
His threatening brows so darkly frowned, His eyes so fiercely glanced around, They made his glare, which none might brook, Like some infuriate lion's look.
Like some wild elephant, full oft He raised and shook his hand(291) aloft.
Now turned his neck to left and right Now bent, now raised its stately height.
Now in his rage that sword he felt Which mangling wounds to foemen dealt, With sidelong glance his brother eyed, And thus in burning words replied: "Thy rash resolve, thy eager haste, Thy mighty fear, are all misplaced: No room is here for duty's claim, No cause to dread the people's blame.
Can one as brave as thou consent To use a coward's argument?
The glory of the Warrior race With craven speech his lips debase?
Can one like thee so falsely speak, Exalting Fate, confessed so weak?
Canst thou, undoubting still restrain?
Suspicions of those sinful twain?
Canst thou, most duteous, fail to know Their hearts are set on duty's show?
They with deceit have set their trains, And now the fruit rewards their pains.
Had they not long ago agreed, O Rama, on this treacherous deed, That promised boon, so long retained, He erst had given and she had gained.
I cannot, O my brother, bear To see another throned as heir With rites which all our people hate: Then, O, this pa.s.sion tolerate.
This vaunted duty which can guide Thy steps from wisdom's path aside, And change the counsel of thy breast, O lofty-hearted, I detest.
Wilt thou, when power and might are thine, Submit to this abhorred design?
Thy father's impious hest fulfil, That va.s.sal of Kaikeyi's will?
But if thou still wilt shut thine eyes, Nor see the guile herein that lies, My soul is sad, I deeply mourn, And duty seems a thing to scorn.
Canst thou one moment think to please This pair who live for love and ease, And 'gainst thy peace, as foes, allied, With tenderest names their hatred hide?
Now if thy judgment still refers To Fate this plot of his and hers, My mind herein can ne'er agree: And O, in this be ruled by me.
Weak, void of manly pride are they Who bend to Fate's imputed sway: The choicest souls, the n.o.bly great Disdain to bow their heads to Fate.
And he who dares his Fate control With vigorous act and manly soul, Though threatening Fate his hopes a.s.sail, Unmoved through all need never quail.
This day mankind shall learn aright The power of Fate and human might, So shall the gulf that lies between A man and Fate be clearly seen.
The might of Fate subdued by me This hour the citizens shall see, Who saw its intervention stay Thy consecrating rites to-day.
My power shall turn this Fate aside, That threatens, as, with furious stride, An elephant who scorns to feel, In rage unchecked, the driver's steel.
Not the great Lords whose sleepless might Protects the worlds, shall stay the rite Though earth, h.e.l.l, heaven combine their powers: And shall we fear this sire of ours?
Then if their minds are idly bent To doom thee, King, to banishment, Through twice seven years of exile they Shall in the lonely forest stay.
I will consume the hopes that fire The queen Kaikeyi and our sire, That to her son this check will bring Advantage, making Bharat king.
The power of Fate will ne'er withstand The might that arms my vigorous hand; If danger and distress a.s.sail, My fearless strength will still prevail.
A thousand circling years shall flee: The forest then thy home shall be, And thy good sons, succeeding, hold The empire which their sire controlled.
The royal saints, of old who reigned, For aged kings this rest ordained: These to their sons their realm commit That they, like sires, may cherish it.
O pious soul, if thou decline The empire which is justly thine, Lest, while the king distracted lies, Disorder in the state should rise, I,-or no mansion may I find In worlds to hero souls a.s.signed,- The guardian of thy realm will be, As the sea-bank protects the sea.
Then cast thine idle fears aside: With prosperous rites be sanctified.
The lords of earth may strive in vain: My power shall all their force restrain.
My pair of arms, my warrior's bow Are not for pride or empty show: For no support these shafts were made; And binding up ill suits my blade: To pierce the foe with deadly breach- This is the work of all and each.
But small, methinks the love I show For him I count my mortal foe.
Soon as my trenchant steel is bare, Flashing its lightning through the air, I heed no foe, nor stand aghast Though Indra's self the levin cast.
Then shall the ways be hard to pa.s.s, Where chariots lie in ruinous ma.s.s; When elephant and man and steed Crushed in the murderous onslaught bleed, And legs and heads fall, heap on heap, Beneath my sword's tremendous sweep.
Struck by my keen brand's trenchant blade, Thine enemies shall fall dismayed, Like towering mountains rent in twain, Or lightning clouds that burst in rain.
When armed with brace and glove I stand, And take my trusty bow in hand, Who then shall vaunt his might? who dare Count him a man to meet me there?
Then will I loose my shafts, and strike Man, elephant, and steed alike: At one shall many an arrow fly, And many a foe with one shall die.
This day the world my power shall see, That none in arms can rival me: My strength the monarch shall abase, And set thee, lord, in lordliest place.
These arms which breathe the sandal's scent, Which golden bracelets ornament, These hands which precious gifts bestow, Which guard the friend and smite the foe, A n.o.bler service shall a.s.say, And fight in Rama's cause to-day, The robbers of thy rights to stay.
Speak, brother, tell thy foeman's name Whom I, in conquering strife, May strip of followers and fame, Of fortune, or of life.
Say, how may all this sea-girt land Be brought to own thy sway: Thy faithful servant here I stand To listen and obey."
Then strove the bride of Raghu's race Sad Lakshma?'s heart to cheer, While slowly down the hero's face, Unchecked, there rolled a tear.
"The orders of my sire," he cried, "My will shall ne'er oppose: I follow still, whate'er betide, The path which duty shows."