Reading section 31

CANTO XXXV

VIŚVÁMITRA'S LINEAGE

The rites were o'er, the maids were wed, The bridegroom to his home was sped. The sonless monarch bade prepare A sacrifice to gain an heir. Then Kuśa, Brahmá's son, appeared, And thus King Kuśanábha cheered:-- 'Thou shalt, my child, obtain a son Like thine own self, O holy one. Through him forever, Gádhi named, Shalt thou in all the worlds be famed.' He spoke and vanished from the sight To Brahmá's world of endless light. Time fled, and, as the saint foretold, Gádhi was born, the holy-souled. My sire was he; through him I trace My line from royal Kúsa's race. My sister--elder-born was she-- The pure and good Satyavatí, Was to the great Richíka wed. Still faithful to her husband dead, She followed him, most noble dame, And, raised to heaven in human frame, A pure celestial stream became. Down from Himálaya's snowy height, In floods forever fair and bright, My sister's holy waves are hurled To purify and glad the world. Now on Himálaya's side I dwell Because I love my sister well. She, for her faith and truth renowned, Most loving to her husband found, High-fated, firm in each pure vow, Is queen of all the rivers now. Bound by a vow I left her side And to the Perfect convent hied. There, by the aid 'twas thine to lend, Made perfect, all my labors end. Thus, mighty Prince, I now have told My race and lineage, high and old, And local tales of long ago Which thou, O Ráma, fain wouldst know. As I have sate rehearsing thus The midnight hour is come on us. Now, Ráma, sleep, that nothing may Our journey of to-morrow stay. No leaf on any tree is stirred-- Hushed in repose are beast and bird: Where'er you turn, on every side, Dense shades of night the landscape hide. The light of eve is fled: the skies, Thick-studded with their host of eyes, Seem a star-forest overhead, Where signs and constellations spread. Now rises, with his pure cold ray, The moon that drives the shades away, And with his gentle influence brings Joy to the hearts of living things. Now, stealing from their lairs, appear The beasts to whom the night is dear. Now spirits walk, and every power That revels in the midnight hour."

The mighty hermit's tale was o'er, He closed his lips and spoke no more. The holy men on every side, "Well done! well done," with reverence cried, "The mighty men of Kuśa's seed Were ever famed for righteous deed. Like Brahmá's self in glory shine The high-souled lords of Kuśa's line. And thy great name is sounded most, O Saint, amid the noble host. And thy dear sister--fairest she Of streams, the high-born Kauśikí-- Diffusing virtue where she flows, New splendor on thy lineage throws." Thus by the chief of saints addressed The son of Gádhi turned to rest; So, when his daily course is done, Sinks to his rest the beaming sun. Ráma, with Lakshman, somewhat stirred To marvel by the tales they heard, Turned also to his couch, to close His eyelids in desired repose.

CANTO XXXVI

THE BIRTH OF GANGÁ

The hours of night now waning fast On Śona's pleasant shore they passed. Then, when the dawn began to break. To Ráma thus the hermit spake:-- "The light of dawn is breaking clear, The hour of morning rites is near. Rise, Ráma, rise, dear son, I pray, And make thee ready for the way." Then Ráma rose, and finished all His duties at the hermit's call-- Prepared with joy the road to take, And thus again in question spake:-- "Here fair and deep the Śona flows, And many an isle its bosom shows: What way, O Saint, will lead us o'er And land us on the farther shore?" The saint replied: "The way I choose Is that which pious hermits use." For many a league they journeyed on Till, when the sun of mid-day shone, The hermit-haunted flood was seen Of Jáhnaví, the Rivers' Queen. Soon as the holy stream they viewed, Thronged with a white-winged multitude Of sárases and swans, delight Possessed them at the lovely sight; And then prepared the hermit band To halt upon that holy strand. They bathed as Scripture bids, and paid Oblations due to God and shade. To Fire they burnt the offerings meet, And sipped the oil, like Amrit sweet. Then pure and pleased they sate around Saint Viśvámitra, on the ground. The holy men of lesser note, In due degree, sate more remote, While Raghu's sons took nearer place By virtue of their rank and race. Then Ráma said: "O Saint, I yearn The three-pathed Gangá's tale to learn."

Thus urged, the sage recounted both The birth of Gangá and her growth:-- "The mighty hill with metals stored, Himálaya, is the mountains' lord, The father of a lovely pair Of daughters fairest of the fair-- Their mother, offspring of the will Of Meru, everlasting hill, Mená, Himálaya's darling, graced With beauty of her dainty waist. Gangá was elder-born:--then came The fair one known by Umá's name. Then all the Gods of heaven, in need Of Gangá's help their vows to speed, To great Himálaya came and prayed The Mountain King to yield the maid. He, not regardless of the weal Of the three worlds, with holy zeal His daughter to the Immortals gave, Gangá whose waters cleanse and save-- Who roams at pleasure, fair and free, Purging all sinners, to the sea. The three-pathed Gangá thus obtained, The Gods their heavenly homes regained. Long time the sister Umá passed In vows austere and rigid fast, And the King gave the devotee Immortal Rudra's bride to be-- Matching with that unequalled Lord His Umá through the worlds adored. So now a glorious station fills Each daughter of the King of Hills-- One honored as the noblest stream, One mid the Goddesses supreme. Thus Gangá, King Himálaya's child, The heavenly river, undefiled, Rose bearing with her to the sky Her waves that bless and purify."

[_Cantos XXXVII and XXXVIII are omitted._]

CANTO XXXIX

THE SONS OF SAGAR

The saint in accents sweet and clear Thus told his tale for Ráma's ear-- And thus anew the holy man A legend to the prince began:-- "There reigned a pious monarch o'er Ayodhyá in the days of yore: Sagar his name:--no child had he, And children much he longed to see. His honored consort, fair of face, Sprang from Vidarbha's royal race-- Keśiní, famed from early youth For piety and love of truth. Arishtanemi's daughter fair, With whom no maiden might compare In beauty, though the earth is wide, Sumati, was his second bride. With his two queens afar he went, And weary days in penance spent, Fervent, upon Himálaya's hill Where springs the stream called Bhrigu's rill. Nor did he fail that saint to please With his devout austerities, And, when a hundred years had fled, Thus the most truthful Bhrigu said:-- 'From thee, O Sagar, blameless King, A mighty host of sons shall spring, And thou shalt win a glorious name Which none, O Chief, but thou shall claim. One of thy queens a son shall bear Maintainer of thy race and heir; And of the other there shall be Sons sixty thousand born to thee.' Thus as he spake, with one accord, To win the grace of that high lord, The queens, with palms together laid, In humble supplication prayed:-- 'Which queen, O Bráhman, of the pair, The many, or the one shall bear? Most eager, Lord, are we to know, And as thou sayest be it so,' With his sweet speech the saint replied:-- 'Yourselves, O Queens, the choice decide. Your own discretion freely use Which shall the one or many choose: One shall the race and name uphold, The host be famous, strong, and bold. Which will have which?' Then Keśiní The mother of one heir would be. Sumati, sister of the King Of all the birds that ply the wing, To that illustrious Bráhman sued That she might bear the multitude-- Whose fame throughout the world should sound For mighty enterprise renowned. Around the saint the monarch went, Bowing his head, most reverent. Then with his wives, with willing feet, Resought his own imperial seat, Time passed. The elder consort bare A son called Asamanj, the heir. Then Sumati, the younger, gave Birth to a gourd, O hero brave, Whose rind, when burst and cleft in two, Gave sixty thousand babes to view. All these with care the nurses laid In jars of oil; and there they stayed, Till, youthful age and strength complete, Forth speeding from each dark retreat-- All peers in valor, years, and might, The sixty thousand came to light. Prince Asamanj, brought up with care, Scourge of his foes, was made the heir. But liegemen's boys he used to cast To Sarjú's waves that hurried past-- Laughing the while in cruel glee Their dying agonies to see. This wicked prince who aye withstood The counsel of the wise and good, Who plagued the people in his hate, His father banished from the state. His son, kind-spoken, brave, and tall, Was Anśumán, beloved of all. Long years flew by. The King decreed To slay a sacrificial steed. Consulting with his priestly band He vowed the rite his soul had planned, And, Veda-skilled, by their advice Made ready for the sacrifice."

CANTO XL

THE CLEAVING OF THE EARTH

The hermit ceased--the tale was done:-- Then in a transport Raghu's son Again addressed the ancient sire Resplendent as a burning fire:-- "O holy man, I fain would hear The tale repeated full and clear How he from whom my sires descend Brought the great rite to happy end," The hermit answered with a smile:-- "Then listen, son of Raghu, while My legendary tale proceeds To tell of high-souled Sagar's deeds. Within the spacious plain that lies From where Himálaya's heights arise To where proud Vindhya's rival chain Looks down upon the subject plain-- A land the best for rites declared-- His sacrifice the king prepared. And Anśumán the prince--for so Sagar advised--with ready bow Was borne upon a mighty car To watch the steed who roamed afar. But Indra, monarch of the skies, Veiling his form in demon guise, Came down upon the appointed day And drove the victim horse away. Reft of the steed the priests, distressed, The master of the rite addressed:-- 'Upon the sacred day by force A robber takes the victim horse. Haste, King! now let the thief be slain; Bring thou the charger back again: The sacred rite prevented thus Brings scathe and woe to all of us. Rise, Monarch, and provide with speed That nought its happy course impede.'

King Sagar in his crowded court Gave ear unto the priests' report. He summoned straightway to his side His sixty thousand sons, and cried:-- 'Brave sons of mine, I know not how These demons are so mighty now-- The priests began the rite so well All sanctified with prayer and spell. If in the depths of earth he hide, Or lurk beneath the ocean's tide, Pursue, dear sons, the robber's track; Slay him and bring the charger back. The whole of this broad earth explore, Sea-garlanded, from shore to shore: Yea, dig her up with might and main Until you see the horse again. Deep let your searching labor reach, A league in depth dug out by each. The robber of our horse pursue, And please your sire who orders you. My grandson, I, this priestly train, Till the steed comes, will here remain.'

Their eager hearts with transport burned As to their task the heroes turned. Obedient to their father, they Through earth's recesses forced their way. With iron arms' unflinching toil Each dug a league beneath the soil. Earth, cleft asunder, groaned in pain, As emulous they plied amain-- Sharp-pointed coulter, pick, and bar, Hard as the bolts of Indra are. Then loud the horrid clamor rose Of monsters dying 'neath their blows, Giant and demon, fiend and snake, That in earth's core their dwelling make. They dug, in ire that nought could stay, Through sixty thousand leagues their way-- Cleaving the earth with matchless strength Till hell itself they reached at length. Thus digging searched they Jambudvíp With all its hills and mountains steep. Then a great fear began to shake The heart of God, bard, fiend, and snake-- And all distressed in spirit went Before the Sire Omnipotent. With signs of woe in every face They sought the mighty Father's grace, And trembling still and ill at ease Addressed their Lord in words like these:-- 'The sons of Sagar, Sire benign, Pierce the whole earth with mine on mine, And as their ruthless work they ply Innumerable creatures die,' 'This is the thief,' the princes say, 'Who stole our victim steed away. This marred the rite, and caused us ill.' And so their guiltless blood they spill.

CANTO XLI

KAPIL

"The Father lent a gracious ear And listened to their tale of fear, And kindly to the Gods replied Whom woe and death had terrified:-- 'The wisest Vásudeva, who The Immortals' foe, fierce Madhu, slew, Regards broad Earth with love and pride, And guards, in Kapil's form, his bride. His kindled wrath will quickly fall On the King's sons and burn them all. This cleaving of the earth his eye Foresaw in ages long gone by: He knew with prescient soul the fate That Sagar's children should await.' The Three-and-thirty, freed from fear, Sought their bright homes with hopeful cheer. Still rose the great tempestuous sound As Sagar's children pierced the ground. When thus the whole broad earth was cleft, And not a spot unsearched was left, Back to their home the princes sped, And thus unto their father said:-- 'We searched the earth from side to side, While countless hosts of creatures died. Our conquering feet in triumph trod On snake and demon, fiend and God; But yet we failed, with all our toil, To find the robber and the spoil. What can we more? If more we can, Devise, O King, and tell thy plan,' His children's speech King Sagar heard, And answered thus, to anger stirred:-- 'Dig on, and ne'er your labor stay Till through earth's depths you force your way. Then smite the robber dead, and bring The charger back with triumphing.'

The sixty thousand chiefs obeyed-- Deep through the earth their way they made. Deep as they dug and deeper yet The immortal elephant they met-- Famed Virúpáksha vast of size, Upon whose head the broad earth lies: The mighty beast who earth sustains With shaggy hills and wooded plains. When, with the changing moon, distressed, And longing for a moment's rest, His mighty head the monster shakes, Earth to the bottom reels and quakes. Around that warder strong and vast With reverential steps they passed-- Nor, when the honor due was paid, Their downward search through earth delayed. But turning from the east aside Southward again their task they plied. There Mahápadma held his place, The best of all his mighty race-- Like some huge hill, of monstrous girth, Upholding on his head the earth. When the vast beast the princes saw, They marvelled and were filled with awe. The sons of high-souled Sagar round That elephant in reverence wound. Then in the western region they With might unwearied cleft their way. There saw they with astonished eyes Saumanas, beast of mountain size. Round him with circling steps they went With greetings kind and reverent. On, on--no thought of rest or stay-- They reached the seat of Soma's sway. There saw they Bhadra, white as snow, With lucky marks that fortune show, Bearing the earth upon his head. Round him they paced with solemn tread, And honored him with greetings kind; Then downward yet their way they mined. They gained the tract 'twixt east and north Whose fame is ever blazoned forth, And by a storm of rage impelled, Digging through earth their course they held. Then all the princes, lofty-souled, Of wondrous vigor, strong and bold, Saw Vásudeva standing there In Kapil's form he loved to wear, And near the everlasting God The victim charger cropped the sod. They saw with joy and eager eyes The fancied robber and the prize, And on him rushed the furious band Crying aloud, 'Stand, villain! stand!' 'Avaunt! avaunt!' great Kapil cried, His bosom flushed with passion's tide; Then by his might that proud array All scorched to heaps of ashes lay.

CANTO XLII

SAGAR'S SACRIFICE

Then to the prince his grandson, bright With his own fame's unborrowed light, King Sagar thus began to say, Marvelling at his sons' delay:-- 'Thou art a warrior skilled and bold, Match for the mighty men of old. Now follow on thine uncles' course And track the robber of the horse. To guard thee take thy sword and bow, For huge and strong are beasts below. There to the reverend reverence pay, And kill the foes who check thy way; Then turn successful home and see My sacrifice complete through thee.'

Obedient to the high-souled lord Grasped Anśumán his bow and sword, And hurried forth the way to trace With youth and valor's eager pace. On sped he by the path he found Dug by his uncles underground. The warder elephant he saw Whose size and strength pass Nature's law-- Who bears the world's tremendous weight, Whom God, fiend, giant, venerate. Bird, serpent, and each flitting shade, To him the honor meet he paid-- With circling steps and greeting due, And further prayed him, if he knew, To tell him of his uncles' weal, And who had dared the horse to steal.

To him in war and council tried The warder elephant replied:-- 'Thou, son of Asamanj, shalt lead In triumph back the rescued steed,'

As to each warder beast he came And questioned all, his words the same, The honored youth with gentle speech Drew eloquent reply from each-- That fortune should his steps attend, And with the horse he home should wend. Cheered with the grateful answer, he Passed on with step more light and free, And reached with careless heart the place Where lay in ashes Sagar's race. Then sank the spirit of the chief Beneath that shock of sudden grief-- And with a bitter cry of woe He mourned his kinsmen fallen so. He saw, weighed down by woe and care, The victim charger roaming there. Yet would the pious chieftain fain Oblations offer to the slain: But, needing water for the rite, He looked and there was none in sight. His quick eye searching all around The uncle of his kinsmen found-- King Garud, best beyond compare Of birds who wing the fields of air. Then thus unto the weeping man The son of Vinatá began:-- 'Grieve not, O hero, for their fall Who died a death approved of all. Of mighty strength, they met their fate By Kapil's hand whom none can mate. Pour forth for them no earthly wave, A holier flood their spirits crave. If, daughter of the Lord of Snow, Gangá would turn her stream below, Her waves that cleanse all mortal stain Would wash their ashes pure again. Yea, when her flood whom all revere Rolls o'er the dust that moulders here, The sixty thousand, freed from sin, A home in Indra's heaven shall win. Go, and with ceaseless labor try To draw the Goddess from the sky. Return, and with thee take the steed; So shall thy grandsire's rite succeed,'

Prince Anśumán the strong and brave Followed the rede Suparna gave. The glorious hero took the horse, And homeward quickly bent his course. Straight to the anxious King he hied, Whom lustral rites had purified-- The mournful story to unfold And all the King of birds had told. The tale of woe the monarch heard, No longer was the rite deferred: With care and just observance he Accomplished all, as texts decree. The rites performed, with brighter fame, Mighty in counsel, home he came. He longed to bring the river down, But found no plan his wish to crown. He pondered long with anxious thought, But saw no way to what he sought. Thus thirty thousand years he spent, And then to heaven the monarch went.

CANTO XLIII

BHAGÍRATH

"When Sagar thus had bowed to fate, The lords and commons of the state Approved with ready heart and will Prince Anśumán his throne to fill. He ruled, a mighty king, unblamed, Sire of Dilípa justly famed. To him, his child and worthy heir, The King resigned his kingdom's care, And on Himálaya's pleasant side His task austere of penance plied. Bright as a God in clear renown He planned to bring pure Gangá down. There on his fruitless hope intent Twice sixteen thousand years he spent, And in the grove of hermits stayed Till bliss in heaven his rites repaid. Dilípa then, the good and great, Soon as he learnt his kinsmen's fate, Bowed down by woe, with troubled mind. Pondering long no cure could find. 'How can I bring,' the mourner sighed, 'To cleanse their dust, the heavenly tide? How can I give them rest, and save Their spirits with the offered wave?' Long with this thought his bosom skilled In holy discipline was filled. A son was born, Bhagírath named, Above all men for virtue famed. Dilípa many a rite ordained, And thirty thousand seasons reigned. But when no hope the king could see His kinsmen from their woe to free, The lord of men, by sickness tried, Obeyed the law of fate, and died; He left the kingdom to his son, And gained the heaven his deeds had won. The good Bhagírath, royal sage, Had no fair son to cheer his age. He, great in glory, pure in will, Longing for sons was childless still. Then on one wish, one thought intent, Planning the heavenly stream's descent, Leaving his ministers the care And burden of his state to bear-- Dwelling in far Gokarna he Engaged in long austerity. With senses checked, with arms upraised, Five fires around and o'er him blazed. Each weary month the hermit passed Breaking but once his awful fast. In winter's chill the brook his bed, In rain, the clouds to screen his head. Thousands of years he thus endured Till Brahmá's favor was assured-- And the high Lord of living things Looked kindly on his sufferings. With trooping Gods the Sire came near The King who plied his task austere:-- 'Blest Monarch, of a glorious race, Thy fervent rites have won my grace. Well hast thou wrought thine awful task, Some boon in turn, O Hermit, ask.'

Bhagírath, rich in glory's light, The hero with the arm of might, Thus to the Lord of earth and sky Raised suppliant hands and made reply:-- 'If the great God his favor deigns, And my long toil its fruit obtains, Let Sagar's sons receive from me Libations that they long to see. Let Gangá with her holy wave The ashes of the heroes lave-- That so my kinsmen may ascend To heavenly bliss that ne'er shall end. And give, I pray, O God, a son, Nor let my house be all undone. Sire of the worlds! be this the grace Bestowed upon Ikshváku's race,' The Sire, when thus the King had prayed, In sweet kind words his answer made:-- 'High, high thy thought and wishes are, Bhagírath of the mighty car! Ikshváku's line is blest in thee, And as thou prayest it shall be. Gangá, whose waves in Swarga flow, Is daughter of the Lord of Snow. Win Śiva that his aid be lent To hold her in her mid-descent-- For earth alone will never bear Those torrents hurled from upper air; And none may hold her weight but He, The Trident-wielding deity,' Thus having said, the Lord supreme Addressed him to the heavenly stream; And then with Gods and Maruts went To heaven, above the firmament."