See, here and there around us high Piled up in heaps cleft billets lie, And holy gra.s.s is gathered, bright As strips of shining lazulite.
Full in the centre of the shade The hermits" holy fire is laid: I see its smoke the pure heaven streak Dense as a big cloud"s dusky peak.
The twice-born men their steps retrace From each sequestered bathing-place, And each his sacred gift has brought Of blossoms which his hands have sought.
Of all these signs, dear brother, each Agrees with good Sutiksh?a"s speech, And doubtless in this holy bound Agastya"s brother will be found.
Agastya once, the worlds who viewed With love, a Deathlike fiend subdued, And armed with mighty power, obtained By holy works, this grove ordained To be a refuge and defence From all oppressors" violence.
In days of yore within this place Two brothers fierce of demon race, Vatapi dire and Ilval, dwelt, And slaughter mid the Brahmans dealt.
A Brahman"s form, the fiend to cloak, Fierce Ilval wore, and Sanskrit spoke, And twice-born sages would invite To solemnize some funeral rite.
His brother"s flesh, concealed within A ram"s false shape and borrowed skin,- As men are wont at funeral feasts,- He dressed and fed those gathered priests.
The holy men, unweeting ill, Took of the food and ate their fill.
Then Ilval with a mighty shout Exclaimed "Vatapi, issue out."
Soon as his brother"s voice he heard, The fiend with ram-like bleating stirred: Rending in pieces every frame, Forth from the dying priests he came.
So they who changed their forms at will Thousands of Brahmans dared to kill,- Fierce fiends who loved each cruel deed, And joyed on bleeding flesh to feed.
Agastya, mighty hermit, pressed To funeral banquet like the rest, Obedient to the G.o.ds" appeal Ate up the monster at a meal.
""Tis done, "tis done," fierce Ilval cried, And water for his hands supplied: Then lifting up his voice he spake: "Forth, brother, from thy prison break."
Then him who called the fiend, who long Had wrought the suffering Brahmans wrong, Thus thoughtful-souled Agastya, best Of hermits, with a smile addressed: "How, Rakshas, is the fiend empowered To issue forth whom I devoured?
Thy brother in a ram"s disguise Is gone where Yama"s kingdom lies."
When from the words Agastya said He knew his brother fiend was dead, His soul on fire with vengeful rage, Rushed the night-rover at the sage.
One lightning glance of fury, hot As fire, the glorious hermit shot, As the fiend neared him in his stride, And straight, consumed to dust, he died.
In pity for the Brahmans" plight Agastya wrought this deed of might: This grove which lakes and fair trees grace In his great brother"s dwelling place."
As Rama thus the tale rehea.r.s.ed, And with Sumitra"s son conversed, The setting sun his last rays shed, And evening o"er the land was spread.
A while the princely brothers stayed And even rites in order paid, Then to the holy grove they drew And hailed the saint with honour due.
With courtesy was Rama met By that ill.u.s.trious anch.o.r.et, And for one night he rested there Regaled with fruit and hermit fare.
But when the night had reached its close, And the sun"s glorious circle rose, The son of Raghu left his bed And to the hermit"s brother said: "Well rested in thy hermit cell, I stand, O saint, to bid farewell; For with thy leave I journey hence Thy brother saint to reverence."
"Go, Rama go," the sage replied: Then from the cot the chieftain hied.
And while the pleasant grove he viewed, The path the hermit showed, pursued.
Of every leaf, of changing hue.
Plants, trees by hundreds round him grew, With joyous eyes he looked on all, Then Jak,(427) the wild rice, and Sal;(428) He saw the red Hibiscus glow, He saw the flower-tipped creeper throw The glory of her cl.u.s.ters o"er Tall trees that loads of blossom bore.
Some, elephants had prostrate laid, In some the monkeys leapt and played, And through the whole wide forest rang The charm of gay birds as they sang.
Then Rama of the lotus eye To Lakshma? turned who followed nigh, And thus the hero youth impressed With Fortune"s favouring signs, addressed:
"How soft the leaves of every tree, How tame each bird and beast we see!
Soon the fair home shall we behold Of that great hermit tranquil-souled.
The deed the good Agastya wrought High fame throughout the world has bought: I see, I see his calm retreat That balms the pain of weary feet.
Where white clouds rise from flames beneath, Where bark-coats lie with many a wreath, Where silvan things, made gentle, throng, And every bird is loud in song.
With ruth for suffering creatures filled, A deathlike fiend with might he killed, And gave this southern realm to be A refuge, from oppression free.
There stands his home, whose dreaded might Has put the giant crew to flight, Who view with envious eyes afar The peaceful shades they cannot mar.
Since that most holy saint has made His dwelling in this lovely shade, Checked by his might the giant brood Have dwelt in peace with souls subdued.
And all this southern realm, within Whose bounds no fiend may entrance win, Now bears a name which naught may dim, Made glorious through the worlds by him.
When Vindhya, best of hills, would stay The journey of the Lord of Day, Obedient to the saint"s behest He bowed for aye his humbled crest.
That h.o.a.ry hermit, world-renowned For holy deeds, within this ground Has set his pure and blessed home, Where gentle silvan creatures roam.
Agastya, whom the worlds revere, Pure saint to whom the good are dear, To us his guests all grace will show, Enriched with blessings ere we go.
I to this aim each thought will turn, The favour of the saint to earn, That here in comfort may be spent The last years of our banishment.
Here sanct.i.ties and high saints stand, G.o.ds, minstrels of the heavenly band; Upon Agastya"s will they wait, And serve him, pure and temperate.
The liar"s tongue, the tyrant"s mind Within these bounds no home may find: No cheat, no sinner here can be: So holy and so good is he.
Here birds and lords of serpent race, Spirits and G.o.ds who haunt the place, Content with scanty fare remain, As merit"s meed they strive to gain.
Made perfect here, the saints supreme, On cars that mock the Day-G.o.d"s gleam,- Their mortal bodies cast aside,- Sought heaven transformed and glorified, Here G.o.ds to living things, who win Their favour, pure from cruel sin, Give royal rule and many a good, Immortal life and spirithood.
Now, Lakshma?, we are near the place: Do thou precede a little s.p.a.ce, And tell the mighty saint that I With Sita at my side am nigh."
Canto XII. The Heavenly Bow.
He spoke: the younger prince obeyed: Within the bounds his way he made, And thus addressed, whom first he met, A pupil of the anch.o.r.et:
"Brave Rama, eldest born, who springs, From Dasaratha, hither brings His wife the lady Sita: he Would fain the holy hermit see.
Lakshma? am I-if happy fame E"er to thine ears has brought the name- His younger brother, prompt to do His will, devoted, fond, and true.
We, through our royal sire"s decree, To the dread woods were forced to flee.
Tell the great Master, I entreat, Our earnest wish our lord to greet."
He spoke: the hermit rich in store Of fervid zeal and sacred lore, Sought the pure shrine which held the fire, To bear his message to the sire.
Soon as he reached the saint most bright In sanct.i.ty"s surpa.s.sing might, He cried, uplifting reverent hands: "Lord Rama near thy cottage stands."
Then spoke Agastya"s pupil dear The message for his lord to hear: "Rama and Lakshma?, chiefs who spring From Dasaratha, glorious king, Thy hermitage e"en now have sought, And lady Sita with them brought.
The tamers of the foe are here To see thee, Master, and revere.
"Tis thine thy further will to say: Deign to command, and we obey."
When from his pupil"s lips he knew The presence of the princely two, And Sita born to fortune high.
The glorious hermit made reply: "Great joy at last is mine this day That Rama hither finds his way, For long my soul has yearned to see The prince who comes to visit me.
Go forth, go forth, and hither bring The royal three with welcoming: Lead Rama in and place him near: Why stands he not already here?"
Thus ordered by the hermit, who, Lord of his thought, all duty knew, His reverent hands together laid, The pupil answered and obeyed.
Forth from the place with speed he ran, To Lakshma? came and thus began: "Where is he? let not Rama wait, But speed, the sage to venerate."
Then with the pupil Lakshma? went Across the hermit settlement, And showed him Rama where he stood With Janak"s daughter in the wood.
The pupil then his message spake Which the kind hermit bade him take; Then led the honoured Rama thence And brought him in with reverence.
As nigh the royal Rama came With Lakshma? and the Maithil dame, He viewed the herds of gentle deer Roaming the garden free from fear.
As through the sacred grove he trod He viewed the seat of many a G.o.d, Brahma and Agni,(429) Sun and Moon, And His who sends each golden boon;(430) Here Vish?u"s stood, there Bhaga"s(431) shrine, And there Mahendra"s, Lord divine; Here His who formed this earthly frame,(432) His there from whom all beings came.(433) Vayu"s,(434) and His who loves to hold The great noose, Varu?(435) mighty-souled: Here was the Vasus"(436) shrine to see, Here that of sacred Gayatri,(437) The king of serpents(438) here had place, And he who rules the feathered race.(439) Here Kartikeya,(440) warrior lord, And there was Justice King adored.
Then with disciples girt about The mighty saint himself came out: Through fierce devotion bright as flame Before the rest the Master came: And then to Lakshma?, fortune blest, Rama these hasty words addressed: "Behold, Agastya"s self draws near, The mighty saint, whom all revere: With spirit raised I meet my lord With richest wealth of penance stored."
The strong-armed hero spake, and ran Forward to meet the sunbright man.
Before him, as he came, he bent And clasped his feet most reverent, Then rearing up his stately height Stood suppliant by the anchorite, While Lakshma?"s strength and Sita"s grace Stood by the pride of Raghu"s race.
The sage his arms round Rama threw And welcomed him with honours due, Asked, was all well, with question sweet, And bade the hero to a seat.
With holy oil he fed the flame, He brought the gifts which strangers claim, And kindly waiting on the three With honours due to high degree, He gave with hospitable care A simple hermit"s woodland fare.
Then sat the reverend father, first Of hermits, deep in duty versed.
And thus to suppliant Rama, bred In all the lore of virtue, said: "Did the false hermit, Prince, neglect To hail his guest with due respect, He must,-the doom the perjured meet,- His proper flesh hereafter eat.
A car-borne king, a lord who sways The earth, and virtue"s law obeys, Worthy of highest honour, thou Hast sought, dear guest, my cottage now."
He spoke: with fruit and hermit fare, With every bloom the branches bare, Agastya graced his honoured guest, And thus with gentle words addressed: "Accept this mighty bow, divine, Whereon red gold and diamonds shine; "Twas by the Heavenly Artist planned For Vish?u"s own almighty hand; This G.o.d-sent shaft of sunbright hue, Whose deadly flight is ever true, By Lord Mahendra given of yore: This quiver with its endless store.
Keen arrows hurtling to their aim Like kindled fires that flash and flame: Accept, in golden sheath encased, This sword with hilt of rich gold graced.
Armed with this best of bows Lord Vish?u slew his demon foes, And mid the dwellers in the skies Won brilliant glory for his prize.
The bow, the quivers, shaft, and sword Received from me, O glorious lord: These conquest to thine arm shall bring, As thunder to the thunder"s King."
The splendid hermit bade him take The n.o.ble weapons as he spake, And as the prince accepted each In words like these renewed his speech:
Canto XIII. Agastya"s Counsel.