Then emerged the twin brothers from the shade of the arbour, like two spotless moons from a riven cloud.
Two gallant champions, the perfection of beauty, like a white lotus and a dark, with their hair parted like a raven's wing on their comely heads and here and there bedecked with bunches of flower-buds; their foreheads bright with the tilak and beads of perspiration, and their graceful ears adorned with ornaments, with arched eyebrows and curly locks, and eyes bright as a lotus bud, with lovely chin and nose and cheeks, and a gracious smile enslaving every soul—such beauteous features as I could never describe; they would put to shame a myriad Loves. With a string of jewels on his breast, with exquisitely dimpled neck, and powerful arms, like the trunk of some young elephant, in whom Kamadeva had become incarnate; with the flowers and cup of leaves in his left hand, the dark prince, O my friend, is beautiful exceedingly.
Dohâ 245.
As her companions gazed upon the two glories of the Solar race, with their lion-like waist and bright yellow attire, very abodes of bliss and amiability, they lost all self-consciousness.
Chaupâi.
Yet one summoning up courage, grasped Sita by the hand and said: “You can at any time meditate upon Gauri; why not now look at the princes?” Then the modest Sita unclosed her eyes and saw before her the two scions of Raghu. As she gazed on Rama, all beautiful from head to foot, and remembered her father's vow, she was greatly agitated. When her companions saw her thus overcome they all cried as if in alarm: “It is getting late”; and one added with a meaning smile: “We must come again at this time tomorrow.” On hearing this clever hint Sita was abashed and said, as if in fear of her mother: “It is late, indeed.” Then summoning up resolution, she fixed the image of Rama in her heart and turned to go; but again she thought how entirely it all depended upon her sire, and under pretence of looking at a deer, or bird, or tree, again and again she turned her head, and each time that she beheld the beauteous Raghubir her love was augmented not a little.
Two gallant champions, the perfection of beauty, like a white lotus and a dark, with their hair parted like a raven's wing on their comely heads and here and there bedecked with bunches of flower-buds; their foreheads bright with the tilak and beads of perspiration, and their graceful ears adorned with ornaments, with arched eyebrows and curly locks, and eyes bright as a lotus bud, with lovely chin and nose and cheeks, and a gracious smile enslaving every soul—such beauteous features as I could never describe; they would put to shame a myriad Loves. With a string of jewels on his breast, with exquisitely dimpled neck, and powerful arms, like the trunk of some young elephant, in whom Kamadeva had become incarnate; with the flowers and cup of leaves in his left hand, the dark prince, O my friend, is beautiful exceedingly.
Dohâ 245.
As her companions gazed upon the two glories of the Solar race, with their lion-like waist and bright yellow attire, very abodes of bliss and amiability, they lost all self-consciousness.
Chaupâi.
Yet one summoning up courage, grasped Sita by the hand and said: “You can at any time meditate upon Gauri; why not now look at the princes?” Then the modest Sita unclosed her eyes and saw before her the two scions of Raghu. As she gazed on Rama, all beautiful from head to foot, and remembered her father's vow, she was greatly agitated. When her companions saw her thus overcome they all cried as if in alarm: “It is getting late”; and one added with a meaning smile: “We must come again at this time tomorrow.” On hearing this clever hint Sita was abashed and said, as if in fear of her mother: “It is late, indeed.” Then summoning up resolution, she fixed the image of Rama in her heart and turned to go; but again she thought how entirely it all depended upon her sire, and under pretence of looking at a deer, or bird, or tree, again and again she turned her head, and each time that she beheld the beauteous Raghubir her love was augmented not a little.
Chaupâi.
The thought of Siva's unyielding bow made her wild and as she went she kept in her heart the image of the dark-hued swain. When the Lord perceived that she was going, He drew in his heart with the indelible ink of love a charming sketch of her infinite beauty and virtue and blissful devotion. Again she sought Bhavani's shrine, and after embracing her feet, thus prayed with clasped hands: “Glory, glory, glory to Thee, O daughter of the mountain king, as fixed in Thy gaze on Siva's face as is the partridge on the moon; O mother of Ganes and Kartikeya; great mother of the world; whose body is lustrous as the lightning; of whom there is neither beginning nor middle nor end; whose infinite majesty is a mystery even to the Veda; cause of the birth, continuance, and ultimate destruction of all being; enchantress of the universe; delighting in thy own supremacy:
Dohâ 247.
Among all faithful wives and true women, thy name, O mother, holds the first place; thy immeasurable grandeur is more than a thousand Saradas and Seshnags could tell.
Chaupâi.
The fourfold rewards of life are easy of attainment by thy servants, O grantor of boons, beloved of Tripurari; and all, O goddess, who adore thy lotus feet, are made happy, whether they be gods, or men, or saints. Thou knowest well my heart's desire, for in the heart of man Thou ever dwellest: there is no need that I declare it aloud to Thee.” So saying, Sita embraced her feet. Bhavani was moved by her humility and devotion; the image smiled and a garland dropped. Reverently Sita clasped to her bosom the divine gift, and Gauri herself with a heart full of joy thus spoke: “Hearken, Sita; my blessing is effectual; your heart's desire shall be accomplished. Narad's words are ever truth itself; the bridegroom upon whom Your soul is set shall, indeed, be Yours.
The thought of Siva's unyielding bow made her wild and as she went she kept in her heart the image of the dark-hued swain. When the Lord perceived that she was going, He drew in his heart with the indelible ink of love a charming sketch of her infinite beauty and virtue and blissful devotion. Again she sought Bhavani's shrine, and after embracing her feet, thus prayed with clasped hands: “Glory, glory, glory to Thee, O daughter of the mountain king, as fixed in Thy gaze on Siva's face as is the partridge on the moon; O mother of Ganes and Kartikeya; great mother of the world; whose body is lustrous as the lightning; of whom there is neither beginning nor middle nor end; whose infinite majesty is a mystery even to the Veda; cause of the birth, continuance, and ultimate destruction of all being; enchantress of the universe; delighting in thy own supremacy:
Dohâ 247.
Among all faithful wives and true women, thy name, O mother, holds the first place; thy immeasurable grandeur is more than a thousand Saradas and Seshnags could tell.
Chaupâi.
The fourfold rewards of life are easy of attainment by thy servants, O grantor of boons, beloved of Tripurari; and all, O goddess, who adore thy lotus feet, are made happy, whether they be gods, or men, or saints. Thou knowest well my heart's desire, for in the heart of man Thou ever dwellest: there is no need that I declare it aloud to Thee.” So saying, Sita embraced her feet. Bhavani was moved by her humility and devotion; the image smiled and a garland dropped. Reverently Sita clasped to her bosom the divine gift, and Gauri herself with a heart full of joy thus spoke: “Hearken, Sita; my blessing is effectual; your heart's desire shall be accomplished. Narad's words are ever truth itself; the bridegroom upon whom Your soul is set shall, indeed, be Yours.
Chhand 32.
The dark-complexioned youth, upon whose simple beauty your soul is set, shall indeed be yours. The All-merciful in His wisdom knows your loving disposition.” On hearing Gauri pronounce this blessing, Sita and her companions were glad of heart, and in their delight (says Tulsi) returned again and again to the temple to adore the goddess.
Sarathâ 24.
Finding Gauri so gracious, Sita was more glad of heart than words can tell; and as an auspicious omen, her left side, the seat of good fortune, began to throb.
Chaupâi.
The two brothers returned to their Guru, inwardly praising Sita's loveliness; and Rama related to him all that had taken place, being simplicity itself and utterly devoid of all guile. The saint took the flowers and performed his devotions, and then imparted his blessing to the two brothers, saying: “May your desire be accomplished.” Rama and Lakshman gladdened at the words. Then, after taking food, the saintly sage began the recital of sacred legends. When the day was spent, they first asked his permission and then went out to perform their evening duties. The glorious moon was rising in the eastern sky, and its orb reminded them of Sita's lovely face; but afterwards they thus reasoned within themselves: “The queen of night is not to be compared with Sita;
Dohâ 248.
The dark-complexioned youth, upon whose simple beauty your soul is set, shall indeed be yours. The All-merciful in His wisdom knows your loving disposition.” On hearing Gauri pronounce this blessing, Sita and her companions were glad of heart, and in their delight (says Tulsi) returned again and again to the temple to adore the goddess.
Sarathâ 24.
Finding Gauri so gracious, Sita was more glad of heart than words can tell; and as an auspicious omen, her left side, the seat of good fortune, began to throb.
Chaupâi.
The two brothers returned to their Guru, inwardly praising Sita's loveliness; and Rama related to him all that had taken place, being simplicity itself and utterly devoid of all guile. The saint took the flowers and performed his devotions, and then imparted his blessing to the two brothers, saying: “May your desire be accomplished.” Rama and Lakshman gladdened at the words. Then, after taking food, the saintly sage began the recital of sacred legends. When the day was spent, they first asked his permission and then went out to perform their evening duties. The glorious moon was rising in the eastern sky, and its orb reminded them of Sita's lovely face; but afterwards they thus reasoned within themselves: “The queen of night is not to be compared with Sita;
Dohâ 248.
for she was born of the restless Ocean, with poison for a brother, and by day she is dim and obscure; how then can such a poor feeble creature be likened to the lovely Sita.
Chaupâi
She waxes and wanes, is the curse of love-sick maids, and is devoured by Râhu whenever the appointed time comes round; she causes anguish to the chakwa and withers the lotas; O moon, thou art full of faults. It is a great sin and highly improper to compare Janak's daughter to thee.” Thus, finding in the moon a pretext for extolling Sita's beauty, they returned to their Guru, the night being now far advanced, and after bowing themselves at his feet and obtaining his permission they retired to rest. When the night was over, Raghunâyak arose and, looking towards his brother, thus began to say: “See, brother, the day has dawned to the delight of the lotus, the chakwa, and all mankind.” Then said Lakshman in gentle tones and with folded hands, declaring the glory of the Lord:—
Dohâ 249.
“At the dawn of day the lily fades and the brightness of the stars is dimmed; so at the news of your coming all the princes waxed faint;
Chaupâi
for bright though they be as the planets, they cannot master the night-black bow. The lotus, the chakwa, the bee, and every bird—all rejoice in night's defeat; and so, O Lord, all your votaries will be glad when the bow is broken. Sunrise is an easy triumph over darkness; the constellations retire and light flashes upon the world. O Raghurây, the sun in its rising shows the chiefs in a figure the majesty of their lord; and your mighty arms are as it were the pass in the eastern mountain through which is manifested the spectacle of the broken bow.” The Lord smiled to hear his brother's speech. The All-pure then performed the daily rites of purification and bathed and, after observance of the prescribed ceremonies, presented himself before the Guru and bowed his comely head at his feet. Then Janak summoned Satânand and sent him in haste to Visvâmitra. He came and declared his sovereign's message, and also called for the two brothers.
Chaupâi
She waxes and wanes, is the curse of love-sick maids, and is devoured by Râhu whenever the appointed time comes round; she causes anguish to the chakwa and withers the lotas; O moon, thou art full of faults. It is a great sin and highly improper to compare Janak's daughter to thee.” Thus, finding in the moon a pretext for extolling Sita's beauty, they returned to their Guru, the night being now far advanced, and after bowing themselves at his feet and obtaining his permission they retired to rest. When the night was over, Raghunâyak arose and, looking towards his brother, thus began to say: “See, brother, the day has dawned to the delight of the lotus, the chakwa, and all mankind.” Then said Lakshman in gentle tones and with folded hands, declaring the glory of the Lord:—
Dohâ 249.
“At the dawn of day the lily fades and the brightness of the stars is dimmed; so at the news of your coming all the princes waxed faint;
Chaupâi
for bright though they be as the planets, they cannot master the night-black bow. The lotus, the chakwa, the bee, and every bird—all rejoice in night's defeat; and so, O Lord, all your votaries will be glad when the bow is broken. Sunrise is an easy triumph over darkness; the constellations retire and light flashes upon the world. O Raghurây, the sun in its rising shows the chiefs in a figure the majesty of their lord; and your mighty arms are as it were the pass in the eastern mountain through which is manifested the spectacle of the broken bow.” The Lord smiled to hear his brother's speech. The All-pure then performed the daily rites of purification and bathed and, after observance of the prescribed ceremonies, presented himself before the Guru and bowed his comely head at his feet. Then Janak summoned Satânand and sent him in haste to Visvâmitra. He came and declared his sovereign's message, and also called for the two brothers.
Dohâ 250.
After reverently saluting Satânand, the Lord went and sat down by his Guru, who said: “Come, my son, Janak has sent for you.
Chaupâi
You must go and see Sita's nuptials, and who is the happy man whom heaven will honour.” Said Lakshman: “His will be the glory, my lord, upon whom your favour rests.” The saints were glad to hear this seemly speech, and all with much effusion gave their blessing. Then the gracious God, attended by all the saintly throng, sallied forth to witness the tournament. No sooner had they reached the arena than the news spread all over the city, and every one put away his work and came thronging in, men and women, young and old, and even children in arms. When Janak saw the enormous crowd he gave orders to his practised servants: “Go round at once to all the people and marshal them to their proper seats.”
Dohâ 251.
With courteous phrase they respectfully seated them all, both men and women, according to their respective rank, whether noble, burgher, or churl.
Chaupâi
Then stepped forth the two princes like beauty beautified, graceful and accomplished champions, one dark, the other fair, but both charming: resplendent in the assembly of princes like two full moons in a circle of stars. Every spectator seemed to see in them an embodiment of his own conception: the princes beheld a gallant warrior, as it were the Heroic incarnate; the wicked kings trembled at the sight of the Lord, as a visible presentment of the Terrible; the demons in their princely disguise thought they saw the image of Death; while the citizens regarded the twin brothers as the glory of manhood, a delight to the eyes.
After reverently saluting Satânand, the Lord went and sat down by his Guru, who said: “Come, my son, Janak has sent for you.
Chaupâi
You must go and see Sita's nuptials, and who is the happy man whom heaven will honour.” Said Lakshman: “His will be the glory, my lord, upon whom your favour rests.” The saints were glad to hear this seemly speech, and all with much effusion gave their blessing. Then the gracious God, attended by all the saintly throng, sallied forth to witness the tournament. No sooner had they reached the arena than the news spread all over the city, and every one put away his work and came thronging in, men and women, young and old, and even children in arms. When Janak saw the enormous crowd he gave orders to his practised servants: “Go round at once to all the people and marshal them to their proper seats.”
Dohâ 251.
With courteous phrase they respectfully seated them all, both men and women, according to their respective rank, whether noble, burgher, or churl.
Chaupâi
Then stepped forth the two princes like beauty beautified, graceful and accomplished champions, one dark, the other fair, but both charming: resplendent in the assembly of princes like two full moons in a circle of stars. Every spectator seemed to see in them an embodiment of his own conception: the princes beheld a gallant warrior, as it were the Heroic incarnate; the wicked kings trembled at the sight of the Lord, as a visible presentment of the Terrible; the demons in their princely disguise thought they saw the image of Death; while the citizens regarded the twin brothers as the glory of manhood, a delight to the eyes.
Dohâ 252.
The women with joy of heart saw what each loved most, as it were a bright vision of the Erotic in utterly incompatible form.
Sages saw the Lord in his divine majesty, with many faces, hands, feet, eyes and heads. And how did he appear to Janak’s family? Like a noble kinsman and friend. The queen, no less than the king, regarded him with unspeakable love, like a dear child; to mystics he shone forth as eternal Truth, the placid radiance of unruffled Quietism; while to the pious the two brothers appeared as their own benignant patron saints. But as for Sita, when she gazed on Rama, her love and joy were unspeakable; if she could not utter the emotion of her heart, how can any poet declare it? Thus, according to the ruling passion of each individual spectator, were the Kosala princes seen by each—
Dohā 253
Resplendent in the midst of the royal circle in their contrasted beauty,
Stealing the eyes of the whole universe.
Both with such facile grace of form that a myriad Loves were all too mean a comparison; with beaming faces that would put to shame the autumnal moon, and irresistibly charming lotus eyes; with glances so unspeakably winning that they would rob Love of all his pride; with rounded cheeks and ears adorned with pendulous gems; with beautiful chins and lips and sweet voices; with smiles more radiant than the light of the moon, arched eyebrows and delicate noses; broad foreheads with glittering tilaks, and clustering locks with which no swarm of bees could vie; with yellow turbans on their shapely heads, dotted here and there with flower-buds; with exquisite necks, marked with a triple line, enclosing, as it were, the bliss of the three spheres of creation.
The women with joy of heart saw what each loved most, as it were a bright vision of the Erotic in utterly incompatible form.
Sages saw the Lord in his divine majesty, with many faces, hands, feet, eyes and heads. And how did he appear to Janak’s family? Like a noble kinsman and friend. The queen, no less than the king, regarded him with unspeakable love, like a dear child; to mystics he shone forth as eternal Truth, the placid radiance of unruffled Quietism; while to the pious the two brothers appeared as their own benignant patron saints. But as for Sita, when she gazed on Rama, her love and joy were unspeakable; if she could not utter the emotion of her heart, how can any poet declare it? Thus, according to the ruling passion of each individual spectator, were the Kosala princes seen by each—
Dohā 253
Resplendent in the midst of the royal circle in their contrasted beauty,
Stealing the eyes of the whole universe.
Both with such facile grace of form that a myriad Loves were all too mean a comparison; with beaming faces that would put to shame the autumnal moon, and irresistibly charming lotus eyes; with glances so unspeakably winning that they would rob Love of all his pride; with rounded cheeks and ears adorned with pendulous gems; with beautiful chins and lips and sweet voices; with smiles more radiant than the light of the moon, arched eyebrows and delicate noses; broad foreheads with glittering tilaks, and clustering locks with which no swarm of bees could vie; with yellow turbans on their shapely heads, dotted here and there with flower-buds; with exquisite necks, marked with a triple line, enclosing, as it were, the bliss of the three spheres of creation.
Dohā 254
Adorned with necklaces of elephant pearls and tulsi garlands on their breasts; with the shoulders of a bull and the gait of a lion, and long arms, very models of strength.
By their sides quivers were slung from yellow braces; with arrows in their hands and bows on their left shoulders; with charming Brahmanical cords, also of yellow tint, and, in short, beautiful from head to foot, beauty all over. Everyone who saw them was made happy, nor could for a minute take his eyes off them. Janak, too, rejoiced to behold the two brothers. Then he went to the saint and embraced his feet, and deferentially related to him all his past history, and showed the hermits the place marked out for the games. Wherever the two gallant princes turned, all men’s eyes were dazzled; each saw in Rama what he himself most admired, without understanding that it was a special miracle. The saint told the king the arrangements were perfect, and the king was thereby highly gratified.
Dohā 255
There was one tier of seats, bright, spacious and more beautiful than all the rest; and here the Raja seated the saint and the two brothers.
At the sight of the Lord all the chiefs grew sick at heart, like the stars at the rising of the full moon; for they felt inwardly assured that beyond all doubt Rama would succeed in bending the bow; or even if he did not break the massive beam, that Sita would still bestow upon him the garland of victory. And so thinking, sir, they turned homewards, abandoning all glory of victory and pride of strength. There were other kings, blind and insolent fools, who mocked at such words and cried: “To break the bow and win the bride is a difficulty, but unless it be broken how can the bride be won? Should Death himself for once come forth against us, him too would we conquer in battle for Sita’s sake!” Hearing this, there were other kings who smiled, good, pious and sensible men, and said—
Adorned with necklaces of elephant pearls and tulsi garlands on their breasts; with the shoulders of a bull and the gait of a lion, and long arms, very models of strength.
By their sides quivers were slung from yellow braces; with arrows in their hands and bows on their left shoulders; with charming Brahmanical cords, also of yellow tint, and, in short, beautiful from head to foot, beauty all over. Everyone who saw them was made happy, nor could for a minute take his eyes off them. Janak, too, rejoiced to behold the two brothers. Then he went to the saint and embraced his feet, and deferentially related to him all his past history, and showed the hermits the place marked out for the games. Wherever the two gallant princes turned, all men’s eyes were dazzled; each saw in Rama what he himself most admired, without understanding that it was a special miracle. The saint told the king the arrangements were perfect, and the king was thereby highly gratified.
Dohā 255
There was one tier of seats, bright, spacious and more beautiful than all the rest; and here the Raja seated the saint and the two brothers.
At the sight of the Lord all the chiefs grew sick at heart, like the stars at the rising of the full moon; for they felt inwardly assured that beyond all doubt Rama would succeed in bending the bow; or even if he did not break the massive beam, that Sita would still bestow upon him the garland of victory. And so thinking, sir, they turned homewards, abandoning all glory of victory and pride of strength. There were other kings, blind and insolent fools, who mocked at such words and cried: “To break the bow and win the bride is a difficulty, but unless it be broken how can the bride be won? Should Death himself for once come forth against us, him too would we conquer in battle for Sita’s sake!” Hearing this, there were other kings who smiled, good, pious and sensible men, and said—
“Rama will certainly marry Sita, to the discomfiture of those proud princes; for who can conquer in battle Dasarath’s gallant sons?
Why thus scoff and throw away your lives to no purpose? Imagined sweets stop no man’s hunger. Listen to this my solemn warning: be inwardly assured that Sita is the mother, and Rama the father of the universe, and feast your eyes to the full on their beauty. These two brothers, so lovely, so gracious, so full of every excellence, have their home in Sambhu’s heart. Why, when you have a sea of ambrosia at hand, should you leave it to run upon your death in pursuit of a mirage? But do what seems good to you; we have today reaped our life’s reward.” So saying, the good kings turned to gaze with affection on the picture of incomparable beauty; while in heaven the gods mounted their chariots to behold the spectacle, and showered down flowers and uttered songs of joy.
Dohā 256
Then, seeing that the time was right, Janak sent and summoned Sita; and obediently she came, with all her lovely and accomplished attendants.
Chaupāī
Her beauty is not to be told: seeing that she is the mother of the world, the perfection of all grace and goodness, every comparison seems to me unworthy of her and appropriate only to mortal woman. In describing Sita, to what can she be likened, or what can the poet name that will not rather do her dishonour? If I should liken her to other women, where is there on earth any nymph so loveable; or, if I look to the denizens of heaven, Sarasvati is a chatterer; Bhavani has only half a body; Rati is in sore distress on account of her disembodied lord; and as for Lakshmi, the twin-birth of poison and strong drink, how can Sita be compared to her? Even though the ocean of ambrosia were
Why thus scoff and throw away your lives to no purpose? Imagined sweets stop no man’s hunger. Listen to this my solemn warning: be inwardly assured that Sita is the mother, and Rama the father of the universe, and feast your eyes to the full on their beauty. These two brothers, so lovely, so gracious, so full of every excellence, have their home in Sambhu’s heart. Why, when you have a sea of ambrosia at hand, should you leave it to run upon your death in pursuit of a mirage? But do what seems good to you; we have today reaped our life’s reward.” So saying, the good kings turned to gaze with affection on the picture of incomparable beauty; while in heaven the gods mounted their chariots to behold the spectacle, and showered down flowers and uttered songs of joy.
Dohā 256
Then, seeing that the time was right, Janak sent and summoned Sita; and obediently she came, with all her lovely and accomplished attendants.
Chaupāī
Her beauty is not to be told: seeing that she is the mother of the world, the perfection of all grace and goodness, every comparison seems to me unworthy of her and appropriate only to mortal woman. In describing Sita, to what can she be likened, or what can the poet name that will not rather do her dishonour? If I should liken her to other women, where is there on earth any nymph so loveable; or, if I look to the denizens of heaven, Sarasvati is a chatterer; Bhavani has only half a body; Rati is in sore distress on account of her disembodied lord; and as for Lakshmi, the twin-birth of poison and strong drink, how can Sita be compared to her? Even though the ocean of ambrosia were
the Beautiful, and the tortoise Grace, the rope being Fascination, and Mount Meru the amorous sentiment, while Love with his own lotus hand played the part of chumer;
Dohâ 257.
Even then, though Lakshmi, the source of all beauty and bliss, had thus been born, still the poet would shrink from saying that she could be compared to Sita.
Chaupâi.
She came, and with her her attendant maids, singing sweet-voiced songs; the mother of creation, of incomparable beauty; her delicate frame veiled in fair white robe, and with a profusion of brilliant and tasteful ornaments, with which her maidens had bedecked her every limb. When she set her foot within the lists, all beholders, men and women alike, were fascinated by her charms; the gods in their delight sounded their kettledrums, and rained down flowers amidst the singing of the apsaras. The wreath of victory sparkled in her hands as she cast a hurried glance on the assembled kings, with anxious heart looking for Râma. Not a king but was love-smitten. But by the saint sat the two brothers and on them she fell with her greedy eyes as upon a rich treasure.
Dohâ 258.
Shrinking into herself from awe of the reverend fathers and at the sight of the vast assemblage, she turned her eyes upon her attendants, though at the same time she drew all Râma into her soul.
Dohâ 257.
Even then, though Lakshmi, the source of all beauty and bliss, had thus been born, still the poet would shrink from saying that she could be compared to Sita.
Chaupâi.
She came, and with her her attendant maids, singing sweet-voiced songs; the mother of creation, of incomparable beauty; her delicate frame veiled in fair white robe, and with a profusion of brilliant and tasteful ornaments, with which her maidens had bedecked her every limb. When she set her foot within the lists, all beholders, men and women alike, were fascinated by her charms; the gods in their delight sounded their kettledrums, and rained down flowers amidst the singing of the apsaras. The wreath of victory sparkled in her hands as she cast a hurried glance on the assembled kings, with anxious heart looking for Râma. Not a king but was love-smitten. But by the saint sat the two brothers and on them she fell with her greedy eyes as upon a rich treasure.
Dohâ 258.
Shrinking into herself from awe of the reverend fathers and at the sight of the vast assemblage, she turned her eyes upon her attendants, though at the same time she drew all Râma into her soul.
Chaupâi.
Not a man or woman, who beheld the beauty of Râma and the loveliness of Sita, could close his eyes for a second; but all thought with dismay of the king's vow, and in their heart made supplication to Brahma:—“O God, quickly remove Janak's obstinacy and make him right-minded as myself. Let the king have no hesitation about breaking his vow and giving Sita in marriage to Râma; the world will approve, and we all shall be pleased; but obstinacy, if persisted in, will at the last be as a consuming fire in his bosom.” All were absorbed in the same ardent desire, saying:—“The dark youth is the match for Sita.” Then Janak summoned the heralds, who as they came proclaimed his state and dignity, and bade them go and declare his vow. They went, but in their heart was little joy.
Dohâ 259.
The heralds cried aloud:—“Hearken, all ye princes, we announce to you our sovereign's vow, and with upraised hands call heaven to witness it.
Chaupâi.
Though your mighty arms be as the moon, yet Siva's famous bow is as terrible and unyielding as Râhu. When Râvan and Banasur saw it—albeit sturdy champions—they left it and went their way. Here is now the great god's massy beam, and whoever in this royal assembly shall to-day bend it shall be renowned in heaven and earth and hell, and at once without hesitation shall receive in marriage the hand of the king's daughter.” When they heard the vow, all the kings were full of eagerness—insolent warriors, savage of soul—and girding up their loins they rose in haste, bowing their heads, ere they commenced, before their patron god. With flushed face and many a close look, they essay the divine bow; but though they put forth all their strength in a thousand different ways, they cannot move it. Those, indeed, who had any sense at all did not go near it.
Not a man or woman, who beheld the beauty of Râma and the loveliness of Sita, could close his eyes for a second; but all thought with dismay of the king's vow, and in their heart made supplication to Brahma:—“O God, quickly remove Janak's obstinacy and make him right-minded as myself. Let the king have no hesitation about breaking his vow and giving Sita in marriage to Râma; the world will approve, and we all shall be pleased; but obstinacy, if persisted in, will at the last be as a consuming fire in his bosom.” All were absorbed in the same ardent desire, saying:—“The dark youth is the match for Sita.” Then Janak summoned the heralds, who as they came proclaimed his state and dignity, and bade them go and declare his vow. They went, but in their heart was little joy.
Dohâ 259.
The heralds cried aloud:—“Hearken, all ye princes, we announce to you our sovereign's vow, and with upraised hands call heaven to witness it.
Chaupâi.
Though your mighty arms be as the moon, yet Siva's famous bow is as terrible and unyielding as Râhu. When Râvan and Banasur saw it—albeit sturdy champions—they left it and went their way. Here is now the great god's massy beam, and whoever in this royal assembly shall to-day bend it shall be renowned in heaven and earth and hell, and at once without hesitation shall receive in marriage the hand of the king's daughter.” When they heard the vow, all the kings were full of eagerness—insolent warriors, savage of soul—and girding up their loins they rose in haste, bowing their heads, ere they commenced, before their patron god. With flushed face and many a close look, they essay the divine bow; but though they put forth all their strength in a thousand different ways, they cannot move it. Those, indeed, who had any sense at all did not go near it.
Dohâ 260.
After straining at the bow—those foolish kings—without being able to stir it, they retire in confusion, as though it had gathered strength by in turn absorbing the force of each successive warrior.
Chaupâi.
Next ten thousand kings all at once attempted to raise it, but it was not to be moved, and yielded as little as a virtuous wife at the words of a gallant. All the princes appeared as ridiculous as a hermit who has no religion. Their mighty glory and renown and heroism were utterly worsted by the bow, and with much confusion of face and sadness of heart they went and took again each his own place in the assembly. When Janak saw the kings thus dismayed, he cried aloud as it were in anger:—“Hearing the vow that I had made, many kings have come from diverse realms, with gods and demons in human form, stalwart heroes, staunch in fight.
Dohâ 261.
A lovely bride, a grand triumph and splendid renown are the prize, but God it seems has not created the man who can break the bow and win it.
Chaupai
Tell me now who was dissatisfied with the guerdon or refused to try his strength on Siva's bow; but let alone lifting and breaking, sirs, there was not one of you who could stir it even a grain's breadth from the ground. Now let no proud warrior wax wrath if I assert there is not a man left on earth. Give up all hope and turn your faces homewards: it is God's will that Sita is not to be married. If I break my vow, all my religious merit is gone; the girl must remain a maid; what can I do? Had I known, sirs, that there were no men in the world, I would not have made myself a laughing-stock by recording such a vow. Every man and woman who heard Janak's words and looked at Jānaki were sad; but Lakshman was furious: his eyes flashed, his lips quivered and his brows were knit,
After straining at the bow—those foolish kings—without being able to stir it, they retire in confusion, as though it had gathered strength by in turn absorbing the force of each successive warrior.
Chaupâi.
Next ten thousand kings all at once attempted to raise it, but it was not to be moved, and yielded as little as a virtuous wife at the words of a gallant. All the princes appeared as ridiculous as a hermit who has no religion. Their mighty glory and renown and heroism were utterly worsted by the bow, and with much confusion of face and sadness of heart they went and took again each his own place in the assembly. When Janak saw the kings thus dismayed, he cried aloud as it were in anger:—“Hearing the vow that I had made, many kings have come from diverse realms, with gods and demons in human form, stalwart heroes, staunch in fight.
Dohâ 261.
A lovely bride, a grand triumph and splendid renown are the prize, but God it seems has not created the man who can break the bow and win it.
Chaupai
Tell me now who was dissatisfied with the guerdon or refused to try his strength on Siva's bow; but let alone lifting and breaking, sirs, there was not one of you who could stir it even a grain's breadth from the ground. Now let no proud warrior wax wrath if I assert there is not a man left on earth. Give up all hope and turn your faces homewards: it is God's will that Sita is not to be married. If I break my vow, all my religious merit is gone; the girl must remain a maid; what can I do? Had I known, sirs, that there were no men in the world, I would not have made myself a laughing-stock by recording such a vow. Every man and woman who heard Janak's words and looked at Jānaki were sad; but Lakshman was furious: his eyes flashed, his lips quivered and his brows were knit,
Dohā 262
But for fear of his brother he could not speak, though the taunt pierced his heart like an arrow. Yet at last, bowing his head at Rāma's lotus feet, he thus spoke in dignified tones:—
Chaupai
“May there never be repeated in any assembly, where even the lowest of the family of Raghu is present, such a scandalous speech as that now uttered by Janak in the presence of the greatest of the clan. Hearken, thou sun of the lotus-like solar race; I state the simple truth, without any vain boasting; if only I have thy permission, I will lift the round world with as much ease as a marble, and will break it in pieces like an ill-baked potter's vessel, and tear up Mount Meru like a pot-herb. Before thy infinite majesty, O my lord god, what is this wretched old bow? Only give me an order, and see what an exhibition I will make. I will take up the bow as though it were a lotus stalk, and will run a hundred leagues with it to convince you.
Dohā 263
Inspired by thy presence, my lord, I will snap it like the stick of an umbrella; or if I fail, I swear by thy holy feet never to take bow in hand again.”
Chaupai
As Lakshman thus spoke in his wrath earth shook and its elephant supporters tottered; the whole assembly and all the kings were struck with terror; Sita was glad of heart and Janak was ashamed; while the saint and Rāma and all the hermits were enraptured and quivered all over with excitement. Then Rāma with a sign checked Lakshman, and lovingly made him sit beside him, while Visvamitra, perceiving the fitness of the time, spoke in gentle and affectionate tones:— “Uplift, Rāma, break this bow of Siva's and relieve Janak, my son, of his affliction.” On hearing the guru's words he bowed his head at his feet, and without joy or sorrow in his soul rose and stood upright in all his native grace, lordly in gait as a young lion.
But for fear of his brother he could not speak, though the taunt pierced his heart like an arrow. Yet at last, bowing his head at Rāma's lotus feet, he thus spoke in dignified tones:—
Chaupai
“May there never be repeated in any assembly, where even the lowest of the family of Raghu is present, such a scandalous speech as that now uttered by Janak in the presence of the greatest of the clan. Hearken, thou sun of the lotus-like solar race; I state the simple truth, without any vain boasting; if only I have thy permission, I will lift the round world with as much ease as a marble, and will break it in pieces like an ill-baked potter's vessel, and tear up Mount Meru like a pot-herb. Before thy infinite majesty, O my lord god, what is this wretched old bow? Only give me an order, and see what an exhibition I will make. I will take up the bow as though it were a lotus stalk, and will run a hundred leagues with it to convince you.
Dohā 263
Inspired by thy presence, my lord, I will snap it like the stick of an umbrella; or if I fail, I swear by thy holy feet never to take bow in hand again.”
Chaupai
As Lakshman thus spoke in his wrath earth shook and its elephant supporters tottered; the whole assembly and all the kings were struck with terror; Sita was glad of heart and Janak was ashamed; while the saint and Rāma and all the hermits were enraptured and quivered all over with excitement. Then Rāma with a sign checked Lakshman, and lovingly made him sit beside him, while Visvamitra, perceiving the fitness of the time, spoke in gentle and affectionate tones:— “Uplift, Rāma, break this bow of Siva's and relieve Janak, my son, of his affliction.” On hearing the guru's words he bowed his head at his feet, and without joy or sorrow in his soul rose and stood upright in all his native grace, lordly in gait as a young lion.
Dohā 264
As Raghubar ascended the stage, like the sun climbing the mountains of the east, the hearts of the saints expanded like the lotus, and their eyes were glad as bees at the return of day.
The dark hopes of the kings vanished like the night, and like the serried stars their vaunts waxed feeble: the arrogants shrivelled up like the lilies, and the false slunk away like the owls; saints and gods, like the chakwa, were relieved of their distress and rained down flowers in token of homage. After affectionately reverencing the guru's feet and asking permission of the holy fathers, the lord of all creation quickly stepped forth, with the tread of a majestic elephant when inflamed with love. As he moved, every man and woman in the city quivered all over their body with delight, worshipping the spirits of their ancestors and the gods, and recalling their own past good deeds, saying:— “If my virtuous acts be of any avail, O father Ganesh, may Rāma snap the bow as it were a lotus-stalk.
Dohā 265
After lovingly gazing upon Rāma, Sita's mother bade her attendants draw near, and thus spoke with affectionate anxiety:—
Chaupai
“Girls, every one is bent on seeing the show, and as for saying what would be for my good, there is no one who will tell the king plainly:—These are two mere boys, this excessive obstinacy of yours is wrong; Rāvan and Bānāsur could not touch the bow, and the kings with all their pride were conquered by it; how then give it into the hands of these boy-princes? As well might a cygnet carry off Mount Meru. All the king's good sense is clean gone: Ah, girls, God's ways are inscrutable.” A sharp-witted maiden gently answered—“O queen, the great are never to be lightly regarded. Look at the meanness of Agastya and the boundlessness of ocean; yet he drained it dry, and his fame has spread through the world. Again the orb of the sun is small to look at, but at its rising darkness is expelled from heaven and earth and hell.
As Raghubar ascended the stage, like the sun climbing the mountains of the east, the hearts of the saints expanded like the lotus, and their eyes were glad as bees at the return of day.
The dark hopes of the kings vanished like the night, and like the serried stars their vaunts waxed feeble: the arrogants shrivelled up like the lilies, and the false slunk away like the owls; saints and gods, like the chakwa, were relieved of their distress and rained down flowers in token of homage. After affectionately reverencing the guru's feet and asking permission of the holy fathers, the lord of all creation quickly stepped forth, with the tread of a majestic elephant when inflamed with love. As he moved, every man and woman in the city quivered all over their body with delight, worshipping the spirits of their ancestors and the gods, and recalling their own past good deeds, saying:— “If my virtuous acts be of any avail, O father Ganesh, may Rāma snap the bow as it were a lotus-stalk.
Dohā 265
After lovingly gazing upon Rāma, Sita's mother bade her attendants draw near, and thus spoke with affectionate anxiety:—
Chaupai
“Girls, every one is bent on seeing the show, and as for saying what would be for my good, there is no one who will tell the king plainly:—These are two mere boys, this excessive obstinacy of yours is wrong; Rāvan and Bānāsur could not touch the bow, and the kings with all their pride were conquered by it; how then give it into the hands of these boy-princes? As well might a cygnet carry off Mount Meru. All the king's good sense is clean gone: Ah, girls, God's ways are inscrutable.” A sharp-witted maiden gently answered—“O queen, the great are never to be lightly regarded. Look at the meanness of Agastya and the boundlessness of ocean; yet he drained it dry, and his fame has spread through the world. Again the orb of the sun is small to look at, but at its rising darkness is expelled from heaven and earth and hell.
Dohā 266
A grain is a very little thing, yet it overpowers Brahma and Vishnu and Mahadeva and all the gods; and a mere goad governs the mightiest and most furious elephant.
Sita.
Love, too, though His bow and arrow are but of flowers, has brought the whole world under subjection. Fear not then, lady, but hearken to me: Rama will assuredly break the bow.” She took heart at these words of her attendant; her despondency ceased and her desire was enlarged. Then Sita, with her eyes fixed on Rama, implored with anxious heart each god in turn, praying to them in her inward soul: “Be gracious to me, O Mahadeva and Bhavani, and reward my service by kindly lightening the weight of the bow. O divine Ganesha, granter of boons, it is with a view to to-day that I have done You service. Hearken to my oft-repeated supplication, and reduce the weight of the bow to a mere trifle.”
Dohâ 267.
Oft glancing at Raghubir’s form, and taking courage from her heavenward prayers, her eyes were filled with tears of love, and her whole body was in a tremor.
With fixed gaze she devoured His beauty, and then as she remembered her father’s vow, her soul was troubled: “Alas, my father, for your cruel resolve, made without any regard to good or evil consequences; not a minister but was afraid to give advice—the more the pity—in the great conclave of counsellors. Here is a bow as firm as adamant, and here a little dark-hued prince of tender frame. O God, how can I maintain my faith? Is it possible for a delicate siris-flower to transpierce a diamond? The judgment of the whole assembly has gone astray; now, O bow of Sambhu, Thou art the only hope left me; impart Thy own heaviness to the crowd, and grow light Thyself at once at the sight of Rama.”
A grain is a very little thing, yet it overpowers Brahma and Vishnu and Mahadeva and all the gods; and a mere goad governs the mightiest and most furious elephant.
Sita.
Love, too, though His bow and arrow are but of flowers, has brought the whole world under subjection. Fear not then, lady, but hearken to me: Rama will assuredly break the bow.” She took heart at these words of her attendant; her despondency ceased and her desire was enlarged. Then Sita, with her eyes fixed on Rama, implored with anxious heart each god in turn, praying to them in her inward soul: “Be gracious to me, O Mahadeva and Bhavani, and reward my service by kindly lightening the weight of the bow. O divine Ganesha, granter of boons, it is with a view to to-day that I have done You service. Hearken to my oft-repeated supplication, and reduce the weight of the bow to a mere trifle.”
Dohâ 267.
Oft glancing at Raghubir’s form, and taking courage from her heavenward prayers, her eyes were filled with tears of love, and her whole body was in a tremor.
With fixed gaze she devoured His beauty, and then as she remembered her father’s vow, her soul was troubled: “Alas, my father, for your cruel resolve, made without any regard to good or evil consequences; not a minister but was afraid to give advice—the more the pity—in the great conclave of counsellors. Here is a bow as firm as adamant, and here a little dark-hued prince of tender frame. O God, how can I maintain my faith? Is it possible for a delicate siris-flower to transpierce a diamond? The judgment of the whole assembly has gone astray; now, O bow of Sambhu, Thou art the only hope left me; impart Thy own heaviness to the crowd, and grow light Thyself at once at the sight of Rama.”
So great was the agitation of Sita’s soul that an instant of time passed as slowly as an age.
Dohâ 268.
As she looks, now at the Lord, and now at the ground, her tremulous eyes so glisten as it were Love’s two fish disporting themselves in the orb of the moon.
Chaupâi.
In her lotus mouth her bee-like voice lies bound; for modesty, like night, allows it not. In the corner of her eye stood a tear-drop, like a miser’s buried hoard. Abashed by the consciousness of extreme excitement, she yet summoned up courage and confidence: “If there is any truth in me at all and I am really enamoured of Raghupati’s lotus feet, then the Lord God, who knoweth all men’s hearts, will make me Rama’s handmaid; for wherever there is true affection of soul to soul, union will follow beyond a doubt.” With her eyes fixed upon the Lord she recorded this loving vow; and he, the most merciful, comprehended it all. After looking at Sita he cast a glance at the bow, as Garur might glance at a poor little snake.
Dohâ 269.
When Lakshman perceived that the glory of his race had his eye fixed upon the bow, he thrilled with emotion, and, striking the earth with his foot, cried thus aloud:
Chaupâi.
“Ye elephant warders, ye tortoise, serpent and boar, hold fast the earth with a will that it shake not, for Rama is about to break the great bow; hearken to my order and be ready.” When Rama drew near to the bow, the people all supplicated the gods by their past good deeds. The doubts and errors of the crowd, the arrogance of the foolish kings, the proud pretensions of Parasuram, the terror of all the gods and saints, the distress of Sita, the regrets of Janak, the burning anguish of the queens, were all heaped together on the bow as on a raft, while Rama’s strength of arm was the boundless ocean that had to be crossed, and with no helmsman to essay it.
Dohâ 268.
As she looks, now at the Lord, and now at the ground, her tremulous eyes so glisten as it were Love’s two fish disporting themselves in the orb of the moon.
Chaupâi.
In her lotus mouth her bee-like voice lies bound; for modesty, like night, allows it not. In the corner of her eye stood a tear-drop, like a miser’s buried hoard. Abashed by the consciousness of extreme excitement, she yet summoned up courage and confidence: “If there is any truth in me at all and I am really enamoured of Raghupati’s lotus feet, then the Lord God, who knoweth all men’s hearts, will make me Rama’s handmaid; for wherever there is true affection of soul to soul, union will follow beyond a doubt.” With her eyes fixed upon the Lord she recorded this loving vow; and he, the most merciful, comprehended it all. After looking at Sita he cast a glance at the bow, as Garur might glance at a poor little snake.
Dohâ 269.
When Lakshman perceived that the glory of his race had his eye fixed upon the bow, he thrilled with emotion, and, striking the earth with his foot, cried thus aloud:
Chaupâi.
“Ye elephant warders, ye tortoise, serpent and boar, hold fast the earth with a will that it shake not, for Rama is about to break the great bow; hearken to my order and be ready.” When Rama drew near to the bow, the people all supplicated the gods by their past good deeds. The doubts and errors of the crowd, the arrogance of the foolish kings, the proud pretensions of Parasuram, the terror of all the gods and saints, the distress of Sita, the regrets of Janak, the burning anguish of the queens, were all heaped together on the bow as on a raft, while Rama’s strength of arm was the boundless ocean that had to be crossed, and with no helmsman to essay it.
Dohâ 270.
Rama first looked at the crowd, who all stood dumb and still as statues; then the gracious lord turned from them to Sita, and perceived her yet deeper concern;
Chaupâi.
Perceived her to be so terribly agitated that a moment of time seemed an age in passing. If a man die of thirst for want of water, when he is once dead, of what use to him is a lake of nectar? What good is the rain when the crop is dead? Or what avails regret when a chance has once been lost? Thinking thus to himself as he gazed at Janaki, the lord was enraptured at the sight of her singular devotion, and after making a reverential obeisance to his Guru, he took up the bow with most superlative ease; as he grasped it in his hand, it gleamed like a flash of lightning; and again as he bent it, it seemed like the vault of heaven. Though all stood looking on, before any one could see he had lifted it from the ground and raised it aloft and drawn it tight, and in a moment broken it in halves; the awful crash re-echoed through the world.
Chaupâi 33.
So awful a crash re-echoed through the world that the horses of the Sun started from their course, the elephants of the four quarters groaned, earth shook, the great serpent, the boar and the tortoise tottered. Gods, demons and saints put their hands to their ears, and all began anxiously to consider the cause; but when they learnt that Rama had broken the bow, they uttered shouts of Victory.
Rama first looked at the crowd, who all stood dumb and still as statues; then the gracious lord turned from them to Sita, and perceived her yet deeper concern;
Chaupâi.
Perceived her to be so terribly agitated that a moment of time seemed an age in passing. If a man die of thirst for want of water, when he is once dead, of what use to him is a lake of nectar? What good is the rain when the crop is dead? Or what avails regret when a chance has once been lost? Thinking thus to himself as he gazed at Janaki, the lord was enraptured at the sight of her singular devotion, and after making a reverential obeisance to his Guru, he took up the bow with most superlative ease; as he grasped it in his hand, it gleamed like a flash of lightning; and again as he bent it, it seemed like the vault of heaven. Though all stood looking on, before any one could see he had lifted it from the ground and raised it aloft and drawn it tight, and in a moment broken it in halves; the awful crash re-echoed through the world.
Chaupâi 33.
So awful a crash re-echoed through the world that the horses of the Sun started from their course, the elephants of the four quarters groaned, earth shook, the great serpent, the boar and the tortoise tottered. Gods, demons and saints put their hands to their ears, and all began anxiously to consider the cause; but when they learnt that Rama had broken the bow, they uttered shouts of Victory.
Sorathâ 26.
All the deluded crowd who had gone on board the bow were drowned in the waves of Rama’s might.
Chaupai
The Lord tossed upon the ground the two broken pieces of the bow, and at the sight the multitude rejoiced. Visvamitra’s love, like the clear unfathomed depth of ocean, swelled to the highest tide of ecstasy under the full-moon influence of Rama’s presence. There was a jubilant noise of music in the sky; the heavenly nymphs danced and sang; Brahma and all the gods and deified saints and sages praised and blessed the hero, and rained down wreaths of many-coloured flowers; the Kinnara sang melodious strains; and the shout of “Victory, Victory,” re-echoed throughout the world. The noise that followed the breaking of the bow defies description. Everywhere the people in their joy kept saying, “Rama has broken the great bow.”
Dohâ 271
Bards, minstrels and rhapsodists raise their loud-voiced pæans, and all the people lavish offerings of horses, elephants, money, jewels and raiment.
Chaupai
There was a clash of cymbals, tabors, conches, clarions, sackbuts, drums, kettledrums and all kinds of music; and in every place were choirs of women singing auspicious strains. The queen with her attendants was as glad as a parched rice-field at a fall of rain; Janak was as pleased and free of care as a tired swimmer on reaching a shallow; the kings were as confounded at the breaking of the bow as a lamp is dimmed at dawn of day; but Sita’s gladness can only be compared to that of the chataki on finding a rain-drop in October; while Lakshman fixed his eyes on Rama as the chakor on the moon. Then Satânand gave the word and Sita advanced to Rama.
All the deluded crowd who had gone on board the bow were drowned in the waves of Rama’s might.
Chaupai
The Lord tossed upon the ground the two broken pieces of the bow, and at the sight the multitude rejoiced. Visvamitra’s love, like the clear unfathomed depth of ocean, swelled to the highest tide of ecstasy under the full-moon influence of Rama’s presence. There was a jubilant noise of music in the sky; the heavenly nymphs danced and sang; Brahma and all the gods and deified saints and sages praised and blessed the hero, and rained down wreaths of many-coloured flowers; the Kinnara sang melodious strains; and the shout of “Victory, Victory,” re-echoed throughout the world. The noise that followed the breaking of the bow defies description. Everywhere the people in their joy kept saying, “Rama has broken the great bow.”
Dohâ 271
Bards, minstrels and rhapsodists raise their loud-voiced pæans, and all the people lavish offerings of horses, elephants, money, jewels and raiment.
Chaupai
There was a clash of cymbals, tabors, conches, clarions, sackbuts, drums, kettledrums and all kinds of music; and in every place were choirs of women singing auspicious strains. The queen with her attendants was as glad as a parched rice-field at a fall of rain; Janak was as pleased and free of care as a tired swimmer on reaching a shallow; the kings were as confounded at the breaking of the bow as a lamp is dimmed at dawn of day; but Sita’s gladness can only be compared to that of the chataki on finding a rain-drop in October; while Lakshman fixed his eyes on Rama as the chakor on the moon. Then Satânand gave the word and Sita advanced to Rama.
Dohâ 272
Graceful in motion as a swan, and of infinite beauty in every limb; and with her came her fair and sprightly companions, who raise the glad marriage song.
Chaupai
Resplendent in their midst as the Queen of love among the loves, she held in her left hand the fair wreath of victory, enriched as it were with the spoil of a world-wide triumph. With modest air, but rapture in her soul, her interior devotion was withdrawn from sight. As she drew near and beheld Rama’s beauty, she stood motionless like a figure on the wall, till a watchful attendant roused her, saying: “Invest him with the ennobling wreath.” At the word she raised the wreath with both her hands, but was too much overcome by emotion to drop it; till as the lotus, flower and stalk, shrinks at the moonlight, so her hand and arm drooped in the glory of his moon-like face. At the sight of his beauty her handmaids broke into song, while Sita let fall the wreath upon his breast.
Sorathâ 27
When the gods saw the wreath resting on his breast they showered down flowers; and the kings all shrank into nothing, like lilies at the rising of the sun.
Chaupai
Both in the city and in heaven there were sounds of music; the bad were maddened, and the good were glad. Gods, Kinnars, men, serpents and saints uttered blessings and shouts of victory. The heavenly nymphs danced and sang, and flowers fell in constant showers. In every place were Brahmans muttering Vedic texts, and rhapsodists reciting lays of praise. Earth, hell and heaven were pervaded with the glad news: “Rama has broken the bow and will wed Sita.” The men and women of the city light votive torches and, regardless of their substance, scatter gifts in profusion. Sita by Rama’s side was as resplendent as if Beauty and Love had met together. Her companions whisper: “Embrace your lord’s feet”; but in excess of fear she dares not touch them.
Graceful in motion as a swan, and of infinite beauty in every limb; and with her came her fair and sprightly companions, who raise the glad marriage song.
Chaupai
Resplendent in their midst as the Queen of love among the loves, she held in her left hand the fair wreath of victory, enriched as it were with the spoil of a world-wide triumph. With modest air, but rapture in her soul, her interior devotion was withdrawn from sight. As she drew near and beheld Rama’s beauty, she stood motionless like a figure on the wall, till a watchful attendant roused her, saying: “Invest him with the ennobling wreath.” At the word she raised the wreath with both her hands, but was too much overcome by emotion to drop it; till as the lotus, flower and stalk, shrinks at the moonlight, so her hand and arm drooped in the glory of his moon-like face. At the sight of his beauty her handmaids broke into song, while Sita let fall the wreath upon his breast.
Sorathâ 27
When the gods saw the wreath resting on his breast they showered down flowers; and the kings all shrank into nothing, like lilies at the rising of the sun.
Chaupai
Both in the city and in heaven there were sounds of music; the bad were maddened, and the good were glad. Gods, Kinnars, men, serpents and saints uttered blessings and shouts of victory. The heavenly nymphs danced and sang, and flowers fell in constant showers. In every place were Brahmans muttering Vedic texts, and rhapsodists reciting lays of praise. Earth, hell and heaven were pervaded with the glad news: “Rama has broken the bow and will wed Sita.” The men and women of the city light votive torches and, regardless of their substance, scatter gifts in profusion. Sita by Rama’s side was as resplendent as if Beauty and Love had met together. Her companions whisper: “Embrace your lord’s feet”; but in excess of fear she dares not touch them.
Dohâ 273
She touches them not with her hands, remembering the fate of Gautama’s wife; and Rama smiled inwardly at this proof of her supernatural devotion.
Chaupai
Then, as they looked on Sita, the kings were inflamed with desire, and waxed wrath of soul—frantic, degenerate fools—and sprang up—the wretches—and donned their armour and began a general chorus of abuse: “Come now, let us carry off Sita and overthrow and bind fast these two princes; though he has broken the bow, he has not yet gained his end; for who shall marry Sita while we still live? If the king give them any assistance, we will rout him in battle as well as the two brothers.” When the good kings heard these words, they answered and put the whole assembly to shame: “The glory of your might and greatness of your strength were disgraced for ever at the breaking of the bow. Is that the might of which ye now boast, or have ye since acquired something new? Was it not thus that ye reckoned afore, when God so blackened your faces?
Dohâ 274
Cease from envy and arrogance and folly; feast your eyes upon Râma; and be not like a moth in the fierce flame of Lakshman’s wrath.
Chaupâî.
Like a crow who would rob the king of the birds of an offering; or a rat who would spoil a lion; as a man who is passionate without cause and yet wishes for peace of mind; as a reviler of Siva who wishes for happiness and prosperity; as a greedy and covetous man who wishes for fair fame, and as a gallant who would have no scandal; as an enemy of God who wishes to be saved; such is your desire, O ye kings. When Sita heard the tumult, she was afraid, and with her companions went away to the queen, while Râma composedly joined the guru, talking to himself of Sita’s affection. Sita and the queens were much distressed, saying: “What is it God would have now?” And at the sound of the voices of the kings they looked helplessly up and down. For fear of Râma Lakshman could not speak.
She touches them not with her hands, remembering the fate of Gautama’s wife; and Rama smiled inwardly at this proof of her supernatural devotion.
Chaupai
Then, as they looked on Sita, the kings were inflamed with desire, and waxed wrath of soul—frantic, degenerate fools—and sprang up—the wretches—and donned their armour and began a general chorus of abuse: “Come now, let us carry off Sita and overthrow and bind fast these two princes; though he has broken the bow, he has not yet gained his end; for who shall marry Sita while we still live? If the king give them any assistance, we will rout him in battle as well as the two brothers.” When the good kings heard these words, they answered and put the whole assembly to shame: “The glory of your might and greatness of your strength were disgraced for ever at the breaking of the bow. Is that the might of which ye now boast, or have ye since acquired something new? Was it not thus that ye reckoned afore, when God so blackened your faces?
Dohâ 274
Cease from envy and arrogance and folly; feast your eyes upon Râma; and be not like a moth in the fierce flame of Lakshman’s wrath.
Chaupâî.
Like a crow who would rob the king of the birds of an offering; or a rat who would spoil a lion; as a man who is passionate without cause and yet wishes for peace of mind; as a reviler of Siva who wishes for happiness and prosperity; as a greedy and covetous man who wishes for fair fame, and as a gallant who would have no scandal; as an enemy of God who wishes to be saved; such is your desire, O ye kings. When Sita heard the tumult, she was afraid, and with her companions went away to the queen, while Râma composedly joined the guru, talking to himself of Sita’s affection. Sita and the queens were much distressed, saying: “What is it God would have now?” And at the sound of the voices of the kings they looked helplessly up and down. For fear of Râma Lakshman could not speak.
Dohâ 275.
With fiery eyes and knitted brows he cast a furious look at the kings, like a lion’s whelp watching to spring on a herd of wild elephants.
Chaupâî.
Seeing the tumult, the people were all distressed and joined in reproaching the kings. Then it was that the sun of the lotus race of Bhrigu (Parasurâm) arrived, for he had heard of the breaking of the bow. At the sight of him the kings all cowered down, as a partridge shrinking beneath the swoop of a hawk. Of pallid hue and well bestreaked with ashes; with the three horizontal lines sacred to Siva conspicuous on his broad forehead; with the hair on his head bound in a knot; and his moon-like face flushed with the furnace fire of smouldering wrath; with frowning brows and eyes inflamed with passion; he casts a quick and furious glance around. With bull-like shoulders and mighty chest and arms; with fair sacrificial cord and string of beads and deer-skin; with an anchorite’s dress about his loins and two quivers slung by his side; with bow and arrows in hand, and his sharp axe upon his shoulder;
Dohâ 276.
In his saintly attire and savage mien a figure beyond description, as though the Heroic had taken the form of a hermit; so he drew near to the kings.
With fiery eyes and knitted brows he cast a furious look at the kings, like a lion’s whelp watching to spring on a herd of wild elephants.
Chaupâî.
Seeing the tumult, the people were all distressed and joined in reproaching the kings. Then it was that the sun of the lotus race of Bhrigu (Parasurâm) arrived, for he had heard of the breaking of the bow. At the sight of him the kings all cowered down, as a partridge shrinking beneath the swoop of a hawk. Of pallid hue and well bestreaked with ashes; with the three horizontal lines sacred to Siva conspicuous on his broad forehead; with the hair on his head bound in a knot; and his moon-like face flushed with the furnace fire of smouldering wrath; with frowning brows and eyes inflamed with passion; he casts a quick and furious glance around. With bull-like shoulders and mighty chest and arms; with fair sacrificial cord and string of beads and deer-skin; with an anchorite’s dress about his loins and two quivers slung by his side; with bow and arrows in hand, and his sharp axe upon his shoulder;
Dohâ 276.
In his saintly attire and savage mien a figure beyond description, as though the Heroic had taken the form of a hermit; so he drew near to the kings.
Chaupâî.
When they beheld his ghastly attire, they all rose in consternation, each mentioning his own and his father’s name, and fell prostrate on the ground before him; and even those on whom he cast a kindly glance thought their life had come to an end. Then came Janak and bowed his head and called for Sita also to pay him homage. He bestowed upon her his blessing, and her glad companions escorted her back to her own apartments. Next came Visvamitra to salute him, and placed the two boys at his feet, saying: “These are Râma and Lakshman, Dasarath’s sons.” He admired the well-matched pair and blessed them, with his eyes long fixed upon Râma’s incomparable beauty, which would humble the pride even of Love himself.
Dohâ 277.
Then he turned and said to Videha: “Why all this crowd?” Asking as though he did not know, while his whole body was bursting with passion.
Chaupâî.
Janak told him the whole history and the reason why the kings assembled. After hearing his reply he again looked away and spied the fragments of the bow lying on the ground. In a mighty passion he cried in furious tones: “Tell me now, Janak, you fool, who has broken the bow? Show him to me at once, or this very day I will overthrow the whole of your dominion.” In his excess of fear the king could give no answer; the wicked suitors were glad of heart; gods, saints, serpents and all the people of the city were full of anxiety and profound alarm; Sita’s mother was lamenting: “God has now undone all that had just been done so well”; and Sita, when she heard of Bhrigupati’s character, felt half a minute pass like an age.
When they beheld his ghastly attire, they all rose in consternation, each mentioning his own and his father’s name, and fell prostrate on the ground before him; and even those on whom he cast a kindly glance thought their life had come to an end. Then came Janak and bowed his head and called for Sita also to pay him homage. He bestowed upon her his blessing, and her glad companions escorted her back to her own apartments. Next came Visvamitra to salute him, and placed the two boys at his feet, saying: “These are Râma and Lakshman, Dasarath’s sons.” He admired the well-matched pair and blessed them, with his eyes long fixed upon Râma’s incomparable beauty, which would humble the pride even of Love himself.
Dohâ 277.
Then he turned and said to Videha: “Why all this crowd?” Asking as though he did not know, while his whole body was bursting with passion.
Chaupâî.
Janak told him the whole history and the reason why the kings assembled. After hearing his reply he again looked away and spied the fragments of the bow lying on the ground. In a mighty passion he cried in furious tones: “Tell me now, Janak, you fool, who has broken the bow? Show him to me at once, or this very day I will overthrow the whole of your dominion.” In his excess of fear the king could give no answer; the wicked suitors were glad of heart; gods, saints, serpents and all the people of the city were full of anxiety and profound alarm; Sita’s mother was lamenting: “God has now undone all that had just been done so well”; and Sita, when she heard of Bhrigupati’s character, felt half a minute pass like an age.
Dohâ 278.
Seeing the people’s consternation and Janak’s anxiety, the imperturbable Raghubir thus spoke and said:
Chaupâî.
“My Lord, the bow has probably got broken by some one of your servants. What are your orders? Why not tell me?” At this the furious saint was yet more incensed and cried: “A servant is one who does service, but he who does the deeds of an enemy must be fought. Hearken, Râma, whoever it was who broke Siva’s bow is as much my enemy as was Sahasra-bâhu. Separate him from among the assembly, or else every one of these kings shall be killed.” When Lakshman heard the saint’s words, he smiled and said to him in a tone of contempt: “O sir, I have broken many a bow as a child, and you were never before thus angry; why were you so fond of this bow in particular?” Parasurâm replied in a fury:
Dohâ 279.
“Ah! death-doomed prince, is there no stopping your tongue? Would you compare to a common bow the great bow of Siva, that is famous throughout the world?”
Said Lakshman with a smile:—“I thought, holy sir, that all bows were alike. What gain or what loss can there be in the breaking of a worn-out bow? Rama by mistake took it for a new one, and directly he touched it, it snapped in two; but it was no fault of his; why then, reverend sir, be so angry for no cause?” He answered, with a glance at his axe:—“Fool, have you never heard of my temper? I do not slay you because, as I say, you are but a child. You in your folly take me for a mere recluse: and from my childhood an ascetic I am, but a fiery one, and the terror of the whole Kshatriya race, as is known throughout the world. By the might of my arm I have made earth kingless, and time after time have bestowed her upon the Brahmans. See here, you king’s son, the axe with which I lopped off Sahasrarbahu’s thousand arms.
Seeing the people’s consternation and Janak’s anxiety, the imperturbable Raghubir thus spoke and said:
Chaupâî.
“My Lord, the bow has probably got broken by some one of your servants. What are your orders? Why not tell me?” At this the furious saint was yet more incensed and cried: “A servant is one who does service, but he who does the deeds of an enemy must be fought. Hearken, Râma, whoever it was who broke Siva’s bow is as much my enemy as was Sahasra-bâhu. Separate him from among the assembly, or else every one of these kings shall be killed.” When Lakshman heard the saint’s words, he smiled and said to him in a tone of contempt: “O sir, I have broken many a bow as a child, and you were never before thus angry; why were you so fond of this bow in particular?” Parasurâm replied in a fury:
Dohâ 279.
“Ah! death-doomed prince, is there no stopping your tongue? Would you compare to a common bow the great bow of Siva, that is famous throughout the world?”
Said Lakshman with a smile:—“I thought, holy sir, that all bows were alike. What gain or what loss can there be in the breaking of a worn-out bow? Rama by mistake took it for a new one, and directly he touched it, it snapped in two; but it was no fault of his; why then, reverend sir, be so angry for no cause?” He answered, with a glance at his axe:—“Fool, have you never heard of my temper? I do not slay you because, as I say, you are but a child. You in your folly take me for a mere recluse: and from my childhood an ascetic I am, but a fiery one, and the terror of the whole Kshatriya race, as is known throughout the world. By the might of my arm I have made earth kingless, and time after time have bestowed her upon the Brahmans. See here, you king’s son, the axe with which I lopped off Sahasrarbahu’s thousand arms.