AYODHYĀKĀNDAM (continued 4)

SECTION LI.

As for the purpose of protecting his brother, Lakshmana was watching him out of sincere affection, Guha burning in grief addressed that descendant of Raghu, saying—"This O child, is the easeful bed that hath been prepared for thee. O prince, do thou as thou listest, lie down upon it. These (foresters) are inured to this hardship; but thou art worthy of ease. We will wake up during the night for guarding Kākutstha. There is none on earth dearer unto me than Rāma. This I tell thee truly and I swear by truth itself. Through his grace I hope in this world to attain high fame, and great religious merit as well as completely secure profit and pleasure. I will bow in hand in company with my kindred adequately guard my dear friend reposing with Sitā. Always ranging in this forest, nothing herein is unknown to me. I shall vanquish even any mighty body of fourfold forces (that may come up against us.)" Thereupon Lakshmana said,— "O sinless one, protected by thee ever having thy sight fixed on virtue, we do not fear to live in this place. But how with Daçarātha's son lying down on the ground along with Sitā can I indulge in sleep or what is the use of my living and enjoying happiness? Him do thou behold with ease asleep on the grass in company with Sitā, who was incapable of being borne in fight by the gods and the Asuras. Hfm do thou behold, who was obtained by Da$aratha as his son through various kinds of prowess, mantras and asceticism, and who is crowned with virtues beseeming such austerities, etc. Rāma being banished, the king will not live long and the earth will shortly be widowed." Having bewailed aloud, the women have, methinks, (by this time) ceased through fatigue, and the king's residence is still. I cannot hope that Kauçalyā, the king, and my mother are yet alive. If they are, it is for this night only. Even if my mother live looking up to Satrughna, yet this is my grief that that mother of a hero, Kauçalyā will breathe her last And that palace filled with people attached unto Rāma and flooded with the light of delight, will, visited with the calamity that will befall the king meet with destruction. How will the life of that high-souled king not seeing his magnanimous son, his eldest son, remain in his body? And the king dying, Kauçalyā will die after him and then my mother will depart this life. Frustrated in his desire, my father, foiled in his endeavours to confer the kingdom on Rāma, will, exclaiming 'All is lost,' 'All is lost,' give up the ghost. Sirely they are blessed that when the time shall come when the king will die, will perform the funeral rites of that descendant of Raghu. They will happily range the capital of my father, furnished with fairlooking terraces, with its high ways laid out orderly, having lordly edifices and palatial residences, graced with excellent courtezans, abounding with cars, elephants and horses, resounding with the notes of trumpets—the abode of all auspiciousness—filled with portly and contented folks, rich in gardens and villas, and celebrating popular festivities. If Daçarātha live we shall returning from the forest, behold that high-souled one observing noble vows. If we remain in peace, we shall returning from the forest with that one firm in promise, enter Ayodhyā." As the high-souled son of the king oppressed with grief was thus lamenting sitting up, the day broke. When that son of the foremost of men, intent on the welfare of the subjects had spoken thus truly, Guha, out of extreme affection for (Rāma), shed tears afflicted with grief and hurt like an elephant suffering from fever.

SECTION LII.

"When the morning broke, that illustrious one having a spacious chest, Rāma, addressed Sumitrā's son, Lakshmana, graced with auspicious marks,—"This is the time of sunrise: the reverend Night hath departed. O child, this gracefully sable-hued bird, the coel, has begun to warble, and I hear the cries of peacocks uttering notes in the woods. O amiable one, we will cross the Jahnavi, fast rushing to the ocean." Hearing Rāma's words, that enhancer of the delight of friends, Sumitrā's son, conveyed them unto Guha and the charioteer; and then stood before his brother. Hearing of Rāma's speach and accepting it, that lord of the Nishādas speedily summoning his counsellors spake unto them saying, —"Do ye without delay bring to this bathing-place a strong and elegent boat furnished with a rudder and steered by a helmsman, such as is capable of ferrying (people) comfortably." Hearing this mandate of Guha. his potent counsellors procuring a goodly boat, informed him of it. Then with joined hands, Guha spake unto Rāghava, saying,—"The boat is ready, worshipful one. What more shall I do in thy behalf? O thou that resemblest the son of a celestial, here is the boat for thee, O foremost of men, to cross over the river that goeth after the ocean. O thou of excellent vows, do thou ascend it." Thereupon the highly energetic Rāma said unto Guha the following words,—"I have attained my end through thee. Do thou at once get on board the baggage." Then donning on their mail and equipped with their bows, quivers and swords, the Rāghavas along with Sitā descended unto the Gangā. Then coming forward in humble guise before Rāma cognizant of virtue, the charioteer said with joined hands,—"What shall I do (now)?" Thereupon Daçarātha's son touching Sumantra by his goodly right hand, said,— "O Sumantra, do thou again repair unto the monarch, but let thy senses be unclouded." "Do thou" said he unto the charioteer, "turn back. So far I have come (in obedience to the order of the monarch;. Now, renouncing the car, will I repair unto the mighty forest on foot" Finding himself thus commanded, the charioteer, Sumantra grieved at heart spoke unto that best of men, the descendant of Ikshwāku. "That Destiny owing to which you will have to pass your days in the forest like a low person, along with your brother and wife, has in this world been withstood by none. I deem the Brahmācharyya mode of life, or study, or meekness or sincerity as attended with no fruit, since you have come by calamity. O Rāghava, living in the forest with Vaidehi and your brother, you, O Lord, attain a state (of supreme excellence), having, as it were, conquered the three worlds. O Rāma, it is we, wretched that we are, that are undone, as we, deprived of your company, shall come under the sinful Kaikeyi expressing great misery." Having said this, the charioteer, Sumantra, seeing Rāma intent upon going to a distant land, wept for a long while in heaviness of heart. Then when he had dried up his tears, and sanctified himself by touching the water of the Gangā, Rāma again addressed the charioteer in sweet words, saying,—"I do not find any one that is a friend of the sons of Ikshwāku like unto thee. Do thou so act that king Daçarātha may not grieve (for me). The lord of earth hath been deprived of his senses by grief, hath grown old, and is oppressed by the weight of desires (thwarted). Therefore it is that I tell thee this. Whatever that noble- minded lord of earth commands for the pleasure of Kaikeyi, should by us be done with alacrity. It is for this that those lords of men, kings, govern,—viz., that others may not thwart their purposes. O Sumantra, do thou act so, that the mighty monarch may not come across any thing unpleasant, or be attacked with chagrin through grief. Do thou saluting him for me say these words unto the aged monarch, who has his senses under complete control, and who hath never seen misfortune before. 'Neither I nor Lakshmana grieve for being ejected out of Ayodhyā, or that we shall have to abide in the forest. After these fourteen years have gone by, you will see Lakshmana, Sitā. and myself come to you speedily.' Having thus, O Sumantra, in my name again and again spoken to the king, to my mother and to Kaikevi along with the other revered ladies do thou communicate unto Kauçalyā our welfare conveying unto her at the same time Sitā's and Lakshmana's salutations to her feet as well those of myself who am her eldest son. Do thou also tell the king,— 'Do you spedily bring Bharata; and when Bharata has come, let him be invested with royalty. And when you have embraced Bharata and installed him in the kingdom, you no longer be overpowered with grief on our account,' And tell Bharata,—'As thou bearest thyself unto the king, so it behoves thee to bear thyself to all thy mothers, without making any distinction at all. As Kaikeyi is unto thee, so without distinction is Sumitrā, and so also without distinction my mother Kauçalyā. Governing the kingdom as the heir- apparent with the view of compassing the pleasure of our father, he will be able to secure happiness both in this world and the next." Told by Rāma to go back and instructed in this wise, Sumantra having heard everything, addressed Kākutstha from affection, saying,—"It behoves you to forgive what I say plainly from affection, without letting myself be overwhelmed with emotion, and with due reverence for you. How can I, O child, without you return to that city! which seems as if afflicted with the grief incident to the loss of a son? Having then seen my car with Rāma on it, the hearts of the people and the palace now will in all likelihood burst when they shall see it without Rāma. Surely the city will be distressed on beholding this empty car, like a host seeing a car with its hero slain and the charioteer alone left in the field. Thinking in their minds that you although actually at a great distance from them, are before them, the subjects (not finding you) will renounce food (and thus destroy themselves.) You yourself witnessed how the subjects overwhelmed with grief on your account, conducted themselves when you were being banished unto the woods. They will on seeing me with the car, burst out into lamentations exceeding a hundred times in bitterness those in which they indulged when you set out for the forest. Shall I say unto the worshipful one,—'I have conveyed your son to the home of his maternal uncle. Do you not grieve'. I will never tell such a lie. Yet how can I speak this truth which is so very unpleasant? And ever abiding by my command and used to carry your friends, how can these excellent horses bear this car without you? Therefore, O sinless one, I shall not be able to go to Ayodhyā without you; and it behoves you to permit me to follow you to the forest. But if you forsake me who beseech you, I will as soon as left by you, enter into fire along with the car. I shall, O Rāghava, by means of this car, withstand all those impediments that shall present themselves against your ascetic austerities in the forest. I have through your favour experienced the pleasure of driving the car. I expect at your hands the pleasure of living in the woods. Be you propitious. It is my wish to remain in the forest with you, and do you say, affectionately—'Do you remain by my side'. And these horses, O hero, will attain to a supreme state if they serve you during your abode in the forest. Living in the forest, I will serve you with the crown of my head; and I will entirely renounce Ayodhyā or the celestial regions themselves. Even as a doer of evil deeds cannot enter the metropolis of the mighty Indra, I am incapable of entering Ayodhyā without you. And this is my desire that the term of exile over, I may carry you back to the palace on this very car. Remaining with you in the forest the fourteen years will pass away dwindled into a moment, but without you, they shall assume the proportions of an hundred years. O you bearing affection towards your servants, it does not behove you to forsake your servant having regard for you, ever abiding by the way that is wended by the son of his master, and observing the duties of his pesition." Thereupon Rāma kind towards servants, said these words unto Sumantra as he besought him thus humbly in various ways, "O thou that bearest attachment unto thy master, I know that thou regardest me highly. But do thou listen as to why I send thee to the city from hence. Seeing thee returned to the city, my youngest mother Kaikeyi will believe that Rāma has gone to the woods. Then well pleased on my having repaired to the woods, she will not entertain any apprehension anent the righteous monarch, thinking that he is untruthful. This is my first wish that my youngest mother may obtain her son's kingdom, properous and well protected by Bharata. Do thou, O Sumantra, bear thyself unto the palace to compass the end of both the king and myself, and do thou communicate in the desired way what I have said unto the respective parties." Having said this unto the charioteer and consoled him again and again, the energetic Rāma spoke unto Guha the following words fraught with reason, "O Guha, I should not now reside in a forest inhabited by men. I should certainly now abide in an asylum in proper guise. In harmony with the wishes of Sitā and Lakshmana, I, imposing on myself in the interests of my father selfdenial and wearing that ornament of ascetics, a head of matted hair, will go (to the forest). Do thou therefore bring me starch from the banian." Thereupon Guha speedily brought the starch for the prince; and prepared matted locks for himself, Rāma and Lakshmana. And that mighty- armed chief of men wore matted locks. And those brothers Rāma and Lakshmana dressed as mendicants, and wearing heads of matted hair, appeared like saints. Then entering upon the Vānaprastha mode of life, Rāma along with Lakshmana assuming the vow of that life, observed unto that adherent of his, Guha,—"Do thou, my friend, vigilantly protect the army, the exchequer, the fort and the provinces; for a kingdom demands all the exertions (of the king thereof)." Then taking the permission of Guha, the descendant of Ikshwāku, holding his soul in calmness, set out with his wife and Lakshmana. Seeing a boat at the river-side, that son of Ikshwāku desirous of crossing the swift-coursing Gangā, spoke these words,—"Do thou ascend, gently, O foremost of men, the boat that stayeth here, after the making the virtuous Sitā ascend by taking her by the hand." Hearing his brother's command, that strong-willed one, furthering everything, having made Mithilā's daughter ascend, ascended himself. That energetic elder brother of Lakshmana next ascended himself. Then the lord of the Nishādas, Guha, incited his kinsfolk. Having got on board the boat, the exceedingly puissant Rāghava for securing his welfare, recited mantras fit to be recited by Kshatriyas and Brāhmanas. Then that mighty car-warrior, Lakshmana, sipping water from the river as laid down in the scriptures, bowed down to it along with Sitā in gladness of heart. Then telling Sumantra, Guha, and the forces, Rāma ascending the boat, ordered the boatmen (to proceed). Then the boat decked out by the helmsman, moved by them, and urged on by the pulls of the goodly oars, proceeded apace in the water. Having arrived at the middle of the Bhāgirathi, that blameless one, Vaidehi, with joined hands, addressed the river, saying,— "O Gangā, protected by thee, may the son of the intelligent and mighty monarch, Daçarātha, execute the mandate (of the latter.) Having spent complete fourteen years in the forest, he will return in company with his brother and myself. Then, O worshipful one, O thou of auspicious fortune, having returned safely, I will, O Gangā, worship thee, thou that crownst every desire. O thou that wendst in three ways, O revered one, thou envelopest the regions of Brahmā. Thou appearest in this world as the spouse of the Ocean- king. I will, O respected one, bow down unto thee, O beauteous one, I will hymn thee, when, with good fortune returned, the foremost of men has obtained the kingdom, I will to please thee give away unto Brāhmanas hundreds and thousands of kine, cloths, sapid rice, and vessels of wine by thousands, and pillaos. O worshipful one, I will worship thee on Rāma having returned to the city. And I will worship all the gods that dwell on thy banks, as well as the holy spots and fanes, as soon as, O sinless one, that mighty-armed one without sin will, coming back from his abode in the forest, enter Ayodhyā in company with his brother and myself." Having thus addressed the Gangā, that blameless one ever obedient unto her husband, swiftly went to the south bank (of the river). Going to the (other) bank of the stream, that best of men, and subduer of foes stood along with his brother and Vaidehi. Then that long-armed one spoke unto the enhancer of Sumitrā's delight, saying,—"Be thou, whether in society or solitude, intent upon protecting Sitā. Of course it behoves us to protect her in lone places. Do thou, O son of Sumitrā, go ahead; and let Sitā follow thee. I myself will go in your wake, protecting both yourself and Sitā. Surely, O foremost of men, we should now protect each other. We have not yet performed any of the arduous tasks. Today Vaidehi will know the grief of a life in the woods. And today she will enter the forest destitute of the concourse of men, devoid of fields and gardens, uneven, and containing pits, etc." Hearing Rāma's words, Lakshmana went ahead; that descendant of Raghu, Rāma, followed Sitā.

On Rāma having speedily crossed the Gangā, the distressed Sumantra who had been gazing at him stedfastly, being no longer able to discern him, turned away his eyes and, overcome with grief, shed tears. And having crossed that mighty river, that high-souled one, that bestower of boons, resembling in prowess a Lokapāla, without delay entered the flourishing and smiling Vatsas crowned with goodly crops. And then the two (brothers) having slain the four kinds of beasts, viz., boars, risyas, prishatas and mahārurus,¹⁴⁹ and taking their flesh, in the evening took refuge under a mighty tree, feeling the demands of appetite.

SECTION LIII.

Having taken refuge under the tree and performed his evening devotions, that foremost of those capable of charming others, Rāma, addressed Lakshmana, saying,—"To day is the first night (which we must spend) outside the inhabited tracts without the company of Sumantra. Thou ought not to suffer thy mind to be uneasy on that score. From tonight forth, we shall have to guard her vigilantly; for, O Lakshmana, the preservation of what she has as well as the securing unto her of what she has not, rests with us. We will, O son of Sumitrā, anyhow pass the night; let us ourselves procuring (leaves) and spreading them on the ground, anyhow lie down on it." Saying this, Rāma lying down on the ground although worthy of a costly bed, spoke these excellent words unto Sumitrā's son,—"O Lakshmana, surely the king sleeps uneasily to day, and Kaikeyi having attained her end ought to be satisfied. Will not that revered lady, for the purpose of having Bharata established in the kingdom, take the king's life, when she shall see Bharata arrived? Forlorn and old and deprived of me, I do not know what he will do, his soul possessed by desire, and having come under the influence of Kaikeyi. Viewing this calamity (that has overtaken us) and the disorder that has taken place in the senses of the monarch, I deem even lust as more potent than either virtue or interest. O Lakshmana, what man is there ignorant though he be, who for the sake of a female forsaketh as my father has done me, his son following his foot-steps? Ah! Kaikeyi's son Bharata with his wife is really happy—he that enjoys the sole sovereignity of the delighted Koçalas. Now that our father has grown old and I have taken refuge in the forest, he will alone experience the supreme felicity in the kingdom. He that renouncing interest and virtue, followes lust, speedily gets himself involved in troubles even like king Daçarātha. O amiable one, I think that Kaikeyi has been born for making an end of Daçarātha, sending me into exile, and conferring the kingdom on Bharata. At present for imparting me pain, Kaikeyi intoxicated by the tide of good fortune, will afflict Kauçalyā and Sumitrā. Thy mother, the revered Sumitrā, will be smitten with grief on our account. Do thou, Lakshmana, tomorrow morning repair unto Ayodhyā: I alone will go unto Dandaka along with Sitā. Thou wilt be the protector of the helpless Kauçalyā. Kaikeyi is surely mean-minded, she perpetrates wrongs from malice. O thou cognizant of virtue, she may administer poison unto my mother. Surely, O child, in a former birth, women were bereft of their sons by my mother, O son of Sumitrā; and it is for this that this misfortune has befallen her. Having been brought up and reared with great pains by Kauçalyā, I have left her at the time when her labors ought to have borne fruit. Fie on me! Let no woman, son of Sumitrā, give birth unto a son like me who have imparted such infinite pain unto my mother. O Lakshmana, I consider my mother's female parrot as more sharing her affection, since she is heard to say, 'O Suka, do you bite the foot of the foe?' What am I, O repressor of foes, now to do for her, bewailing, of slender fortune,—she that hath not profitted in the least by her son, and who stands in no further need of his good offices? Surely my unfortunate mother, Kauçalyā, bereft of me, lies down on the ground, overwhelmed will woe, and plunged in an ocean of grief. O Lakshmana, enraged, I alone, without doubt, can rid Ayodhyā—the Earth herself—by means of my arrows. But improper is the display of prowess for no reason. O sinless one, I am afraid of unrighteousness and of the next life; and for this it is that, O Lakshmana, I do not install myself in the kingdom."

Having in solitude for a long while piteously bewailed thus and in other ways, Rāma sat silent in the night with tears in his eyes. Thereupon Lakshmana consoled Rāma spent with lamentation, like unto fire deprived of its radiance or the ocean of its tide. "Surely, O Rāma, O foremost of warriors, on your having come out, the city of Ayodhyā is shorn of its splendour like the night deprived of the moon. This is not fit that you should grieve; for thereby, O foremost of men, you make both Sitā and myself grieve. Rāghava, deprived of you neither Sitā nor I can live for a moment, like fish taken out of water : without you, O repressor of foes, I wish to see neither my father, nor Satrughna, nor Sumitrā, nor heaven itself." Then viewing from where they sat at ease their well-laid bed under the banian, those virtuous ones (Rāma and Sitā) went to it. Hearing Lakshmana's excellent and appropriate words with which he gladly assumed a life in the woods, that subduer of foes, Rāghava, in the name of righteousness, at once folly granted him the permission to dwell with him for the entire fourteen years. Then like unto a couple of lions dwelling on a mountain-summit, at that lone spot of the extensive forest, those powerful perpetuators of the Raghu race, began to dwell without fear.

SECTION LIV.

Having passed the auspicious night underneath that mighty tree, they, when the sun had risen in unclouded splendour, went away from that place. Then diving into a mighty forest, they proceeded in the direction in which the Bhāgirathi Gangā meets with the Yamunā. And those illustrious ones went on, viewing at intervals various fields and delightful lands which they had never seen before. And going on beholding various kinds of blossoming trees, Rāma when the day had declined, spoke unto Sumitrā's son, saying, "O son of Sumitrā, do thou behold the beautiful wreath of smoke that rises in front of Prayāga—sign of the worshipful Fire, and I infer some ascetic to be near. For certain we have arrived at the confluence of the Gangā and the Yamunā; and it is for this that we hear the roar of the waters produced by the rushing of them. And all these various trees with their wood hewn away by foresters are seen in the asylums." Thus having proceeded at ease, those bowmen when the sun stood aslant, arrived in the vicinity of the ascetic's residence on the delta of the Yamunā and the Gangā. And proceeding awhile on the way, Rāma, in presence of the asylum, came up to Bharadwāja's place, frightening beasts and birds. And arriving at the hermitage, the heroes desirous of seeing the ascetic, stood at a distance with Sitā behind them. And as soon as entering in, that exalted one saw that high-souled anchoret of accomplished vows, who had attained spiritual insight through austerities, sitting surrounded by his disciples after having finished the Agnihotrā, Rāma with joined hands saluted him along with Sumitrā's son and Sitā. Then Lakshmana's elder brother imparted unto Bharadwāja a knowledge of himself. "O worshipful one, we are the sons of Daçarātha, Rāma and Lakshmana. This is my wife, the auspicious daughter of Janaka. This blameless one followeth me unto the solitary forest; and my dear younger brother, the son of Sumitrā too, observing the vow, follows me, who have been exiled by my father. O revered one, commissioned by my father, I will enter the forest of asceticism, and there subsisting on fruits and roots will practise virtue." Hearing those words of the intelligent prince, that righteous (ascetic) brought a bull¹⁵⁰ as well as arghya and water and divers kinds of edibles consisting of wild fruits and roots. And that one of fiery austerities assigned quarters, along with beasts and birds as well as ascetics, for Rāma. Then paying homage unto Rāma as he proceeded by short stages, and asking him,—"Has your journey been a pleasant one?"—the ascetic sat down. And when Rāghava had sat down after receiving the homage, Bharadwāja spoke unto him these words fraught with virtue,— "O Kākutstha, I behold thee come after a long time. I have heard of thy causeless exile. This spot at the meeting of the mighty rivers is lonely, sacred and charming. Do thou dwell here happily." Thus addressed by Bharadwāja, that descendant of Raghu, Rāma intent on the welfare of all, answered in auspicious words,—"O reverend one, I apprehend that, living hard by, the inhabitants of the city and the provinces, thinking me as easily to be seen, will come to this asylum desirous of beholding me and Vaidehi. It is for this reason that living at this place does not recommend itself unto me. Do thou, O worshipful one, hit upon a retired and agreeable asylum where Janaka's daughter worthy of happiness, will pass her days pleasantly " Hearing this auspicious speech of Rāghava, that eminent anchoret Bharadwāja said these words calculated to serve Rāma's purpose,—"Ten Krosas hence, my child, is the mountain where thou shalt dwell. It is inhabited by maharshis, and is sacred, and picturseque throughout, abounding in Golāngulas, monkeys, and bears,—known by the name of Chitrakuta—resembling Gandhamādana. On beholding the peaks of Chitrakuta, one reaps welfare, and ignorance does not envelope one's mind. There innumerable saints with the hair of their heads rendered white like skulls, having spent hundreds of years, have through austerities ascended heaven. That solitary spot I deem as one which will make a happy residence for thee. O Rāma, do thou, for living out the term of thy banishment, dwell either here or with me." Bharadwāja entertained his welcome guest, Rāma, along with his wife and brother by extending towards them every rite of hospitality. And at Prayāga Rāma having obtained the company of that Maharshi, and discoursing on a variety of sacred topics, the night came on. And with Sitā for the third, Kākutstha brought up in luxury, being fatigued, pleasantly spent that night at the romantic hermitage of Bharadwāja. When the night had passed away and day dawned, (Rāma) approached Bharadwāja, and that chief of men addressed that ascetic of flaming energy,—"O reverend sire of truthful character, we have here in thy asylum spent the night. Do thou now permit us to set forward (for Chitrakuta)." On Rāma having passed the night there, Bharadwāja spoke unto him,—"Do thou trace thy steps to Chitrakuta filled with delicious fruits and roots. I deem that, O mighty Rāma, as a fit abode for thee, being, as it is, furnished with various kinds of trees, inhabited by crowds of Kinnaras, resounding with the cries of peacocks, and frequented by gignantic elephants. Do thou repair unto the famed Chitrakuta, holy, fair to the view, and abounding in countless fruits and roots. And in those forests range herds of elephants and deer; and these, O Rāghava, thou wilt behold. And ranging with Sitā rivers and rills and plateaus, caverns and fountains, thy mind will experience delight. Delighted with the notes of joyous Koyastivas and coels, and the cries of deer and countless mad elephants, do thou, arriving at the auspicious mountain, reside at that romantic asylum."

SECTION LV.

Having spent the night there, those princes—repressors of their foes— after paying their obeisance unto the Maharshi, set out for the mountain. And seeing them about to set forth, that Maharshi performed a propitiatory ceremony for them, even as a father does on behalf of the sons begot from his own loins. And that mighty ascetic, Bharadwāja having truth for his prowess, addressed them, saying,—"O best of men, do you coming to the confluence of the Gangā and the Yamunā proceed along the Kālindi river flowing westwards. Arriving at the Kālindi running in a contrary direction, you will, O Rāghava, behold a goodly bathing place well-worn by foot-passengers. There constructing a raft, do you cross over the river who is the daughter of the Sun. Next coming to a gigantic banian tree with green foliage, named Syāma, surrounded by various trees and inhabited by ascetics of accomplished purposes, let Sitā with joined hands offer humble supplications to it. Having come to the tree and, whether staying under it or proceeding along, after passing only a Krosa, you will, O Rāma, see a wood abounding in Sallakis, Vadaris, and other wild trees belonging unto the Yamunā. I went to Chitrakuta many a time by that road, which is beautiful, sandy, and free from forest-fire." Having directed the way, the Maharshi paused. Thereupon Rāma, saying,—"So be it" asked him to stop. On the ascetic turning away, Rāma spoke unto Lakshmana, "We had surely acquired religious merit, good betide you, since, the ascetic has shown compassion unto us." Having thus conversed with each other, those foremost of men endowed with intelligence, placing Sitā in their front, proceeded towards the river Kālindi. And having arrived at the Kālindi of rapid currents, they desirous of crossing over, began I think (as to the means). Then with heaps of dry wild wood covered with grass, they constructed a large raft. And the puissant Lakshmana tearing twigs from the ratan and the rose-apple, made a comfortable seat for Sitā. Then Daçarātha's son, Rāma, made his bashful wife (in power) inconceivable like unto Sree herself, ascend the raft, and carefully laid beside Vaidehi her attires and ornaments as well as the hoe and the basket. And first having placed Sitā on the raft, those sons of Daçarātha ascended themselves, and with glad hearts began carefully to cross (the stream). Having come near the middle of the Kālindi, Sitā prayed unto her, saying, —"Hail to thee, O goddess! I cross thee. If my husband can successfully perform his vow, I will worship thee with a thousand cows and an hundred vessels of wine, hail unto thee, upon Rāma's return to the city ruled by Ikshwāku." Having thus prayed to Kālindi with joined hands, that virtuous lady, Sitā, reached the southern bank thereof. And by means of that raft they crossed that fleet-coursing daughter of the Sun, heaving with billows—the river Yamunā with her banks abounding with innumerable trees. Then renouncing the raft, and passing by the woods adjoining the Yamunā, they came upon a banian Syamā by name, of cool shade and verdant foliage. On coming to the banian, Vaidehi saluted it saying,—"O mighty tree, I bow unto thee. May my husband fulfil his vow; and may we behold Kauçalyā and the illustrious Sumitrā." Having thus prayed with joined hands, the intelligent Sitā went away. Seeing the blameless and beloved Sitā ever conducting herself properly,—praying, Rāma said unto Lakshmana, "Do thou, O younger brother of Bharata, taking Sitā with thee, go forward. O best of men, furnished with weapons, I will go in thy wake. Do thou procure Vaidehi with whatever fruits or flowers may please her and she may wish to have." Seeing every tree and shrub crowned with blossoms unseen before, that one belonging to the softer sex questioned Rāma about it. And hearing Sitā's words, Lakshmana brought unto her (fruits and flowers) of beautiful and flower-scattering trees of divers kinds. And beholding streams with water flowing over glittering sands and resounding with cranes of various kinds, the daughter of king Janaka felt exceeding delight. And having proceeded just a Krosa, those brothers, Rāma and Lakshmana, having killed many a sacred deer, began to range in the woods of the Yamunā. And having disported in the beautiful woods resounding with multitudes of peacocks and inhabited by elephants and monkeys, they looking as lively as ever, coming to the level banks of the river, took up their quarters there.

SECTION LVI.

When the night had been spent, that best of Raghus gently awakened Lakshmana from his light sleep. "O Sumitra's son, do thou hear the dulcet notes of the birds in the woods. Let us proceed. O repressor of foes, the time of our departure is present." Awakened at the proper time, Rāma's brother left off sleep and drowsiness and clinging fatigue. Then they all arising touched the sacred waters of the river, and began to proceed on the way to Chitrakuta inhabited by ascetics. Setting out in season with Sumitrā's son, he of eyes resembling lotus-petals spoke these words unto Sitā,—"O Vaidehi, behold these flowering trees, the Kinsukas in spring appearing engarlanded with their own flowers, and as if flaming.—Do thou behold the Bhallātakas and Vilwas bending beneath their fruits and flowers, with no man to enjoy them. Surely, we shall be able to live here. Behold, O Lakshmana, these honeycombs measuring about a Drona have been hung up on trees by the bees. In the charming woods overarched by flowers, the Dātyuha cries, and is responded to by the peacock. Do thou behold Chitrakuta frequented by mad elephants and resonant with the voice of multitudes of birds—the mountain with its towering summits. O child, we will disport in the sacred woods of Chitrakuta with fine level plains,and covered with divers trees." Then they proceeding on foot along with Sitā, arrived at the charming and beautiful mountain Chitrakuta. And arriving at the mountain inhabited by birds of various kinds, abounding in fruits and roots, and furnished with watery expanses, (Rāma) said, "O amiable one, methinks this beautiful hill furnished with innumerable fruits and roots, is fraught with subsistence. And the hill is inhabited by high-souled ascetics. Let this, O child, be our abode. We will dwell here." Then Rāma, Lakshmana and Sitā with joined hands presented themselves at the asylum of Valmiki and saluted him. Thereat the Maharshi cognizant of morality said unto them, "Be seated!" and addressed Rāma, saying,—"Has thy journey been a pleasant one?" Then having duly acquainted the saint with matters pertaining to himself, that lord, the mighty- armed elder brother of Lakshmana, said unto the latter, "O Lakshmana, bring thou wood good and strong. O amiable one, construct a dwelling. My mind is set upon staying here." Hearing his words, Sumitrā's son procured wood of various descriptions, and then that subduer of foes reared a cottage thatched with leaves. Beholding that goodly dwelling walled with wood and furnished with doors, Rāma addressed these words unto Lakshmana, intent upon ministering unto his brother. "Procuring meat, we will worship the deity presiding over this dwelling. O Sumitrā's son, those who wish to live long, should pacify the household gods. O Lakshmana graced with auspicious eyes, do thou killing deer, swiftly bring it here. It behoves us to observe the rules prescribed by the scriptures. Do thou follow the ordinance." Acquainted with the words of his brother, Lakshmana, slayer of hostile heroes, did as he was told. Thereupon Rāma addressed him again, "Do thou cook this meat. We will worship the presiding deities of this mansion. Bestir thyself,—the moment is mild and the day is styled Dhruva." Then Lakshmana the son of Sumitrā endowed with vigor, having slain a sacred black deer, threw it into flaming fire. And seeing it well scorched and hot and free from blood, Lakshmana spoke unto that foremost of men, Rāghava, saying,—"Here is the entire black deer roasted by me, capable of serving any purpose. Do you, O you that resemble a celestial, worship the gods." Having performed his ablutions, Rāma conversant with the ritual and possessing a knowledge of Japa, restraining his senses, performed all the mantras that are necessary for completing a sacrifice; and having in a pure spirit communed with all the deities, entered the habitation. And (this having been done), Rāma of immeasurable energy rejoiced exceedingly. And sacrificing unto Vaicya, Rudra and Vishnu, he performed some ceremonies for removing malign influences from the abode. And having duly performed Japa and bathed in consonance with the ordinance, Rāma made an excellent sacrifice for removing sin. And then Rāghava established a dais, and a chaitya proportionate to the abode.¹⁵¹ And as the celestials enter the hall entitled Sudharmā, they together with the view of dwelling in it, entered the mansion beautiful to behold, thatched with the leaves of trees, built at a convenient site, well-made, and keeping out the wind.¹⁵² And having come to the charming Chitrakuta and the river Mālyavati furnished with excellent bathing places, and haunted by beasts and fowls, they rejoiced with glad hearts, and forsook the grief incident to their exile from the city.

SECTION LVII.

Having for a long time conversed with Sumantra, Guha distressed at heart on Rāma reaching the southern bank, retraced his steps homewards. Learning from envoys at (Sringaverapura) all about Rāma's visit to Bharadwāja at Prayāga and his reception (at Bharadwāja's place) as well as their destined journey (to Chitrakuta), Sumantra, taking the permission (of Guha), yoked those excellent horses and with a heavy heart directed his course to the city of Ayodhyā. And beholding perfumed woods and rivers and watery expanses and towns and villages, he eagerly proceeded on his way. And on the third day at dusk the charioteer arriving at Ayodhyā saw it bereft of happiness. And beholding it empty and still, Sumantra afflicted with exceeding sorrow, and overwhelmed with grief, thought, "Perhaps the city with her elephants and horses and men and king has been consumed by the fire of grief on account of Rāma." Having thus reflected, the charioteer drawing up to the city- gate by means of those fleet-coursing horses, speedily entered the city. Thereupon, people by hundreds and thousands rushed after the charioteer, Sumantra, asking, "Where is Rāma?" To them he replied,—"Having asked Rāghava on the Gangā and being permitted by him, I have been sent away by that high-souled righteous one." Learning that they (Rāma and the rest) had crossed over (the Gangā), the men with tears in their eyes, sighed forth "O fie!" and began to bewail, exclaiming, "Ah Rāma." And he heard crowds exclaim,—"Not seeing Rāma in the car, we cease to exist. We shall no longer see the righteous Rāma in the midst of mighty assemblies engaged in charity, sacrifice or nuptial rites. What was necessary for this body? What was dear to them and what did they delight in?—(constantly revolving all this in his mind), Rāma ruled this city even as, a father. Then proceeding past the stalls, Sumantra heard the lamentations of females at windows, burning in grief for Rāma. With his face muffled, Sumantra proceeded on the highway towards the palace of Daçarātha. Swiftly alighting from the car and entering the royal residence, he went past seven apartments thronged with people. And beholding Sumantra returned to the city crowned with edifices, seven- storied houses, and palatial mansions, the women, stricken with the absence of Rāma, set up a cry of "Oh" and "Alas." And waxing still more aggrieved, the females looked at each other with their expansive and transparent eyes fast flooded with tears. And then he heard the talk, as toned down it proceeded from the royal mansions, of the wives of Daçarātha afflicted with grief for Rāma. "Going in company with Rāma, and returning without him, what will the charioteer answer Kauçalyā bewailing (for her son)? Surely life is miserable, yet is incapable of being renounced, since, although her son leaving (the installation) hath gone away, yet Kauçalyā still liveth." Having heard those words of the queens, fraught with truth, Sumantra burning as it were in grief, at once entered the (next) apartment. And entering the eighth apartment he beheld in a gloomy chamber the king distressed and in a pitiable plight, woe-begone for grief for his son. Thereupon presenting himself before the monarch, Sumantra saluted him and then conveyed unto the king the words of Rāma as he had uttered them. Hearing them silently, the monarch with his mind exceedingly wrought, dropped down to the ground in a swoon, afflicted with grief for Rāma. On the lord of earth swooning away and falling to the ground, the inmates of the inner apartment raising their arms burst into lamentations. Kauçalyā availing herself of the aid of Sumantra, raised up her fallen lord and addressed him, saying, "This, O eminently virtuous one! if the envoy of that one of an exceedingly arduous achievement, returned from the forest. Why do you not accost him? O descendant of Raghu, you are ashamed to-day, having done this wrong. Do you rise: merit be yours (arising from this act.) Let not your adherents come to naught (because of your sorrow). O worshipful one, she from fear of whom you do not speak to the charioteer, Kaikeyi, is not here. Do you therefore speak to him without fear." Having said this unto the monarch, Kauçalyā overwhelmed with grief, with her voice oppressed with the vapour begot of emotion, all on a sudden fell to the earth. Beholding Kauçalyā fallen on the ground bewailing, as also their husband, the ladies seated around, began to lament. Hearing the sounds of wailing arise from the inner apartment, old and young as well as females, set up lamentations all round; and the city was again filled with them.

SECTION LVIII.

When having been ministered unto and when his senses had returned after the swoon, the king summoned Sumantra for hearing tidings of Rāma. Thereupon the charitoteer with joined hands spoke unto the mighty monarch, lamenting for Rāma, influenced by grief and sorrow, aged, burning in grief, like a newly-taken elephant, sighing heavily, plunged in thought, and resembling an elephant that is indisposed. Then the king like one exceedingly distressed, spoke unto the charioteer, who had presented himself, covered over with dust, with tears starting from his eyes, and in pitiable guise, "Where stayeth that righteous one, taking refuge under a tree? Lapped in luxury, what, O charioteer, will Rāghava feed on? Unworthy of privations, and worthy of excellent beds, how, O Sumantra, a king's son, he is sleeping on the ground like one forlorn? How is Rāma passing his days in the lone forest—he who when he went out used to be followed by foot-men and elephants? How are the princes in company with Vaidehi, living in the woods, ranged by serpents and beasts and inhabited by black snakes? How, O Sumantra, having descended from the car, the princes along with the tender and unfortunate Sitā are proceeding on foot? O charioteer, surely thou art blessed, for thou hast beheld my sons enter the forest, like the Açwins entering the Mandara hill. And what did Rāma say? And what did Lakshmana? And, O Sumantra, arriving at the forest what did Mithilā's daughter? Do thou, O charioteer, describe unto me what Rāma lives on and where he lies down. Hearing this, I shall live, like Yayati in the midst of saints." Thus urged by the king, the charioteer spoke unto the king with his voice faltering and suppressed with the vapour of grief, "O mighty monarch observing morality, Rāghava with joined hands and bowing down his head, said, 'O charioteer, do thou in my name salute with thy head the feet of my high-soulded sire worthy of being saluted, and famed (in the world). And, O charioteer, do thou in my name as each deserves salute the ladies of the inner apartment and communicate to them tidings of my health. And having saluted my mother Kauçalyā and conveyed unto her news of my welfare, as well as of my unswerving adherence to morality, do thou tell her the words,— Do you remaining steady in virtue, at the proper hour bestir yourself in behalf of the chamber of sacrificial fire. And, O revered one, do you minister unto the feet of that worshipful one, (the king), as if they were very deities. And banishing pride and self-love, do you bear yourself towards my mothers. And, O mother, do you show respect unto Kaikeyi, who is followed by the king himself. And you should behave towards Bharata as one should towards one's king. Kings (although juvenile), are really senior by virtue of their royalty; and do you remember the duties touching sovereigns.'—Do thou communicate unto Bharata news of my welfare and say in my name,—Do you behave properly with all your mothers.—And unto that delight of the Ikswhāku line do thou further say,—Having been installed as the heir-apparent, be you, looking upon the king as the supreme authority in the state, obedient to him. Do you not deprive the king of authority, as he has grown old. O Prince, do you grant him satisfaction in the kingdom and do you proclaim his mandates.— And shedding copious tears, he again addressed me, saying,—Do thou look upon my mother as on thy own proud of her son.—Having said this, the mighty-armed and illustrious Rāma furnished with eyes resembling lotus-petals, shed plenteous tears. Thereupon Lakshmana waxing wroth, breathing hard, said,—For what fault of his has the Prince been banished? Observing the worthless command of Kaikeyi, whether the king has done well or ill, we have been exceedingly pained thereby. Whether Rāma has been exiled through Kaikeyi's lust for dominion or through the exigencies of the bestowal of the boon, there cannot be any doubt that the king has acted most unrighteously. Even if this hath been done in harmony with the wish of the Lord, I do not perceive any reason for the banishment of Rāma. The king through lack of sense has done heedlessly what is opposed to morality; and this banishment of Rāma will but bring upon him woe here and hereafter. Fatherhood find I none in the monarch. My brother and feeder and friend and father is even Rāghava. Renouncing one that is universally dear, and that is ever engaged in the good of all, how by such an act will the king please the people? And how by banishing the righteous Rāma dear unto all the subjects, and thus withstanding the wishes of all, will he retain his royalty?—And, O mighty monarch, Janaki also, unfortunate that she is, sighing heavily, stood wildered like one that had been possessed. And not having experienced any calamity before, the famed princess weeping because of this misfortune, told me nothing. And looking up to her lord with a blank countenance, she suddenly let fail tears, perceiving the destruction of the subjects. And thus said Rāma ministered unto by Lakshmana, with a tearful countenance; and thus stood the unfortunate and weeping Sitā beholding the royal car and myself."

SECTION LIX.

"On Rāma having gone to the forest, my horses as I turned away, did not proceed vigorously on the way, and shed warm tears. And having (done homage) unto both the princes by joining my hands, I turned my back, bearing best I could that load of sorrow. Indulging in the hope that Rāma might again summon me by any of the envoys (of Guha left there), I stayed there with Guha for many days. In thy dominions, O monarch, exercised by the calamity that has befallen Rāma, even trees bearing blossoms and buds and sprouts look sad; the rivers and pools and liquid lapses have their waters dried up; and the woods and groves have their foliage withered. Creatures do not move and beasts of prey cease to range about; and the forest appears to be dumb, stupified by grief on account of Rāma. And streams containing lotuses with their leaves shriveled, have their waters stained; and lotuses have their leaves burnt; and fishes and (aquatic) birds have grown lean. And flowers both on land and water have been deprived of their freshness and fragrance; and they no longer retain their former condition. And the gardens are idle with their birds drooping. And, O best of men, I do not find the bowers beautiful (as before). And when I entered Ayodhyā, none greeted me. And not seeing Rāma, the people sigh momentarily. And, O revered one, seeing the royal car returned hither without Rāma, the people on the highways from grief appear with tearful countenances. And from mansions, cars, and lorldly edifices, ladies seeing the car come back, set up a chorus of 'Ah' and 'Alas,' afflicted with the absence of Rāma. And becoming more distressed than ever, the fair sex with their expansive and clear eyes filled with tears, began to eye each other indistinctly. And in consequence of the general grief that prevailed, I could not perceive any difference between friends and foes and persons indifferent. O mighty monarch, distressed in consequence of the exile of Rāma, men appear sunk in dejection, and elephants and horses are spiritless; and seized with cheerlessness, they utter doleful sounds and heave profound sighs. Ayodhyā appeareth unto me joyless like Kauçalyā deprived of her son." Hearing the words of the charioteer, the king like one exceedingly forlorn, addressed the former in words lost in the vapour of sorrow, "Exhorted by Kaikeyi of a sinful country, born in a sinful race and cherishing sinful designs, I did not take counsel with aged people capable of offering advice. Without consulting with friends or courtiers or persons versed in the Vedas, I have in the interests of a woman rashly done this thing through ignorance. Meseems, O charioteer, for the purpose of destroying this line entirely, this mighty disaster hath surely befallen us through the influence of Destiny. O charioteer, if I have ever done thee any good, do thou immediately take me to Rāma: my life urges me on (in this direction). Or let my command make Rāghava turn back. I cannot live for a moment without Rāma. But if that mighty-armed one has proceeded far, do thou placing me on a car speedily show me unto Rāma. Where is that elder brother of Lakshmana of a mighty bow, furnished with teeth resembling Kunda flowers? If I live so long, I will behold him in company with Sitā. What can be sadder than this, that reduced to such a pass, I cannot see here that descendant of Ikshwāku, Rāghava? Ah Rāma! Ah thou younger brother of Rāma! Ah thou unfortunate Vaidehi! You do not know that I am through grief lamenting like one deserted." Deprived of his consciousness through that sorrow of his, the king said, "I have plunged myself into this ocean of woe hard to cross, with grief for Rāma as its mighty tide; separation from Sitā, its other shore; sighs heaved, its furious billows and whirlpools; tears, rivers that rush into it; tossing of the arms, its fishes; lamentations its roar; my hair flung about, its moss; Kaikeyi, its submarine fire; my fast-flowing tears, its current; the words of the hump-backed one, its terrific ravenous animals; the boon, its continents; and the exile of Rāma, its expanse. And, O Kauçalyā, without Rāghava, I shall sink in this ocean. O exalted dame, living, it is hard for me to cross over this ocean. It is surely owing to my sin that today wishing to behold Rāghava and Lakshmana, I do not get them (before me)." Having thus lamented, the illustrious king all of a sudden dropped to the earth in a swoon. On the king swooning away lamenting, that exalted lady, Rāma's mother, hearing his words doubly bitter and more piteous than eti uttered for Rāma, was seized with fresh apprehension.

SECTION LX.

Then like one possessed by an evil spirit, and trembling again and again, Kauçalyā lying down on the ground like one dead, spoke unto the charioteer, saying, "Do thou take me where Kākutstha is and Sitā and Lakshmana: without them, I cannot live for a moment. Do thou without delay turn the car. Do thou take me also unto Dandaka. If I do not follow them, I shall repair to the mansion of Yama." Thereat the charioteer with joined hands comforted that exalted lady with ready words faltering and choked with rising vapour, "Do you leave grief and sorrow and the violent emotion. Renouncing grief, Rāghava is living in the woods. And in the forest, the righteous Lakshmana, having his senses under control, is ministering unto Rāma's feet and is thus adoring the gods for happiness in the next world. And even in the lonely woods, Sitā as if remaining at home, having fixed her thoughts on Rāma, is living a life of love. And there appears not the least trace of any distress afflicting her; and Vaidehi seems to me as if she were meant (by Nature) for a life away from home. And as formerly going unto urban villas she disported, she disports now even in the lonely forest. And although living in the lone forest, that one of a countenance resembling the infant moon, sports merrily like a girl, in the garden represented by Rāma's self. Ayodhyā without Rāma would have seemed a wilderness to her whose heart is fixed on him and whose very life depends upon him. Vaidehi is now asking (Rāma) concerning the villages and towns (in their way); and observing various trees and the courses of the rivers, Jānaki, asking Rāma or Lakshmana (for information), is learning all about them. And Sitā sports as she used to do in arbours stationed at the distance of only one krosa from Ayodhyā. This only I remember; but all that she had from sudden impulse communicated unto me concerning Kaikeyi, does not rise into consciousness." Suppressing this topic which had come up through heedlessness, the charioteer spoke sweet words cheering up that noble lady. "Neither through the fatigue of travel, nor the influence of the wind, nor excitement, nor the sun, hath Vaidehi's lustre resembling the lunar light suffered any diminution. The countenance of that fair-speaking one resembling the lotus and comparable unto the full moon in splendour, hath not waxed pale. Her feet now without the dye of the liquid lac, but naturally furnished with the roseate hue of the same, are gorgeous like lotus buds. Still Vaidehi decked in ornaments from affection for Rāma, goes gracefully, rebuking with her bangles the wavy gait (of cranes). Supporting herself on Rāma's arm, Sitā arrived at the forest, is not inspired with fear on beholding either an elephant, or a lion, or a tiger. Therefore they are not to be bewailed, nor your own self, nor the lord of men. This history of Rāma will endure for ever in this world. Renouncing grief and with cheerful hearts, well established in the life led by the Maharshis, they living in the forest on wild fruits as their sustenance, are maintaining the noble promise of their sire." Consoled by the truth-telling yet sweeet- speeched charioteer, that lady oppressed with grief for her son, ceased not to wail loudly—"My beloved," "My son," "Rāghava."

SECTION LXI.

On that foremost of those capable of charming people, the righteous Rāma, repairing to the forest, Kauçalyā crying in grief said unto her husband, "Your great fame has spread over the three worlds; and the descendant of Raghu is kind, munificent and fair-speaking. Why then have you forsaken those foremost of men along with Sitā? Brought up in happiness, and now brought to misery, how can they bear it? And how can the youthful daughter of Mithilā of slender make, tender, and deserving of happiness, bear heat and cold? Having formerly partaken of (excellent) rice with curries, how will Sitā feed on wild rice? Having heard excellent vocal and instrumental music, how will Sitā hear the frightful cries of carnivorous lions? Resembling the gonfalon of the great Indra, where sleepeth the mighty-armed and exceedingly powerful Rāma, making his arm like unto a mace his pillow? When shall I behold Rāma's countenance hued like the lotus, with his hair ending beautifully (in curls), and his breath impregnated with the fine perfume of the lotus, and his eyes resembling lotus leaves? Surely my heart, without doubt, is made of the essence of the thunderbolt, since not beholding him, it is not cracked in a thousand fragments. It is because of your sad act that mine own, being thwarted, although worthy of happiness, are miserably ranging the wilderness. If after the expiration of the five and ten years, Rāghava does return, it does not appear likely that Bharata will renounce the kingdom and the exchequer. Some on the occasions of the Srāddha (first) feast their own friends, and having done this, they mind the choice Brāhmanas. But those twice-born ones that are meritorious, learned, and like unto celestials, do not at the last moment regard even viands resembling ambrosia. Brāhmanas of high respectibility endowed with wisdom never bear being entertained after the other twice- born ones have been feasted, even as bulls never quietly bear to have their horns cut off. Why will not an elder brother and one who has sterling merits, O monarch, disregard a kingdom which hath been thus enjoyed by his younger brother? A tiger doth not like to feed on food procured by others. Even so that tiger-like personage does not regard anything that has come to be tasted by another. Clarified butter, sacrificial cakes, Kuça, stakes of catechu having been used in one sacrifice cannot be used in another,—even so this kingdom which hath been already enjoyed, like unto liquor deprived of its essence or a sacrifice whose soma hath been eaten, cannot be accepted by Rāma. Such an ill treatment Rāghava will not put up with, even as a powerful tiger cannot bear the rubbing of its tail (by another). This world aided by the gods fear to encounter him in high conflict; but he restrains himself, thinking any such action on his part as unrighteous. Indeed, that righteous one brings back people to morality. Surely, that mighty-armed one endowed with exceeding prowess, can with his golden shafts burn all creatures and the oceans, like the Day at the dissolution of all. But such a man of men, possessed of leonine strength, and graced with the eyes of a bull, has been destroyed by his father, like a fish destroying his offspring. If you had believed in the morality prescribed in the scriptures, and which is followed by the twice-born ones, you would not have banished your son. But disregarding such morality, you have banished your virtuous son. One of the refuges of a woman is her husband, a second is her son, and a third is her relatives; and a fourth she has none. But you cease to be mine; and Rāma has been sent to the woods. I do not like to go into the forest; so I am entirely undone by you. This kingdom, your own kingdom, has been destroyed by you; destroyed are; along with the counsellors; destroyed am I with my son; and destroyed are the citizens: your son and your wife are alone delighted." Hearing these words uttered in heart-rending accents, Daçarātha exceedingly distressed, became senseless. And being afflicted with grief, he again remembered his evil act.

SECTION LXII.

Thus harshly addressed by the indignant mother of Rāma, the king aggrieved was plunged in thought. Having thought for a long while, that repressor of foes, the king, who had lost his senses through grief, regained consciousness. And having regained his senses, he sighing hot and hard, seeing Kauçalyā beside him, was again lost in thought. As he was thinking, the sinful act which he had through ignorance formerly committed by means of the shaft which hits by sound, rose up (in his recollection). Afflicted with this grief as well as that on account of Rāma, that lord, the king, burned in these two several griefs. Burning in grief and distressed, he trembling and with joined hands, with his head hanging down, addressed Kauçalyā, with the view of pacifying her, "I deprecate thy displeasure, O Kauçalyā, with joined hands. Thou art ever affectionate and dost not treat harshly even enemies. Verily unto women cognizant of virtue, a husband, whether he has any merits or not, is a very deity. Ever virtuous, thou, that hast seen both the virtuous and the vicious, although aggrieved, ought not to say anything unpleasant unto me who am weighed down with woe." Having heard these piteous words of the distressed king, Kauçalyā uttered words even as a water-way lets out fresh accession of rain. And weeping, she drew on her head the joined hands of the king resembling lotuses; and then flurried spoke these words hurriedly informed with extreme affection, "Be thou propitious; I beseech with (bended) head. I bow unto thee, falling on the ground. O reverend one, besought by thee, I shall be undone. I do not deserve to be forgiven by thee. She cannot be reckoned a gentlewoman, who is propitiated by her intelligent husband, worthy of being extolled in both the worlds. I know duty, O righteous one; I know that thou art truth-telling. And it is because I was exceedingly distressed on account of my son that I spoke harshly to thee. Sorrow destroys patience, sorrow destroys knowledge of the scriptures, sorrow destroys every thing; there is no enemy like unto sorrow. One can falling down bear beating from an enemy; but one cannot falling down bear ever so little sorrow. This is the fifth night of the banishment of Rāma, as calculated by me; and to me rendered cheerless by sorrow, this interval has assumed the proportions of five years. And fostered by thought on my part, this grief increases in my bosom, like the mighty waters of the ocean increased by the vehement discharge of rivers." As Kauçalyā was thus speaking auspiciously, the rays of the sun grew milder, and the night arrived. Cheered up by the words of Kauçalyā, the king overcome by grief, felt the influence of sleep.

SECTION LXIII.

Starting in a moment from sleep, king Daçarātha deprived (almost) of his consciousness by grief, (again) became a prey to thought. And in consequence of the exile of Rāma and Lakshmana, the king resembling Vāsava was overpowered by grief, like the darkness of Rāhu enveloping the sun. Then on Rāma's having gone along with his wife, the lord of the Koçalas, remembering his own misdeed, felt anxious to communicate himself to that lady having her eyes furnished with dark outer corners. And on the sixth night after Rāma had repaired to the forest, the king Daçarātha, when it was midnight, remembered his own unrighteous act. And then unto Kauçalyā aggrieved on account of her son, he spoke these words, "As are the actions of one, O auspicious one—whether good or otherwise— are the consequences, O gentle lady, reaped by the doer of them. He that on the eve of beginning an action either relating to this world or the next, does not take into consideration the fact that actions entail consequences light or grave, disagreeable (or otherwise), is styled a child. He that cutting down a mango grove, waters Palāsa trees, beholding the flowers (blooming), will covet fruits; and grieve when their season arrives. The person that without apprehending (the principle of causation) rushes to action, grieves at the season of fruits, even like him that watereth kinsuka trees (hewing down his mango grove). And in this way, I fool that I am having hewn down my grove of mangos and watered Palāças,—having renounced Rāma in the season of fruit, is grieving in the end. Having, O Kauçalyā, earned the expression—'The Prince can pierce his aim by sound alone,'—I, a prince and bowman, did this offence. Therefore, O noble dame, I have myself brought this misfortune on me. like a child who has eaten poison through ignorance. And even like another person fascinated by the sight of some Palāsa trees (and doing as mentioned above), I (did this act) not foreknowing the consequence that would follow my shooting by sound. O lady, thou wert then unwedded; and I was a youthful prince. And it was at this time that the rainy season increasing my desire set in. Drawing moisture from the ground and heated the earth by his rays, the Sun goes to the dreadful quarter whither repair the dead. The heat was immediately dispelled, and the gelid clouds showed themselves; and frogs and Sārangas and peacocks began to rejoice; and, finding it unpleasant, the feathered ones bathed and with the surface of their plumage shrunk up from the wet, took refuge in trees shaken by the wind and rain. And the hill graced by maddened Sārangas, covered by showers falling simultaneously looked like a mass of waters. And the waters although unstained, being mixed up with mineral substances and ashes from the mountain, flowed in serpentine torrents black and red. At such a sweet hour, I intent upon taking excercise, taking my bow and arrows and mounted on my car, sallied out for the river Sarayu, with the intention that I with my senses under control, should in the watery expense slay any bufifelo, elephant, or any other beast that might have come there in the night. And (coming there) while it was so dark that nothing could be discovered, I heard sounds of a filling pitcher proceeding from the waters; resembling the roars of an elephant. Thereupon raising up my shaft flaming and like unto a serpent of virulent poison, I desirous of hunting the (imaginary) elephant, let fly my shaft in the direction of the sound. Thereupon from the spot whereto the sharpened shaft resembling a poisonous snake had been discharged by me in the twilight, proceeded cries of 'Oh' and 'Alas' uttered by a forester pierced to the quick by the arrow, and falling into the water. And when he had dropped down, words spoken by a human being became audible. 'Why doth the weapon light upon me? I had come to this lone stream for procuring water. By whom have I been wounded by this arrow? To whom have I done wrong? And how can the slaying of one like me bearing a load of matted locks, and wearing bark and deer-skin, who subsists on what the forest yields and never injures others, be sanctioned by the scriptures? Who can serve any purpose by slaying me? And how can I have injured such an one? Such a purposeless act cannot but end in evil. This can never be reckoned as righteous; even like unto violating the chastity of a preceptor's wife. I do not so much lament my end as I lament it on account of my father and mother. To what will the old couple, who have ever been maintained by me, betake themselves when I am gone? My father and mother are old, and I their only son am slain. What boy is it of uncontrolled senses that has killed us all?"

"Hearing his piteous words, I ever anxious to follow virtue, was exceedingly pained, and the bow with its arrow fixed fell down from my hand to the earth. Hearing in the night, the pathetic words of the saint thus lamenting, I became frightened, and was deprived of my senses through excess of grief. And coming to the quarter, I exceedingly unnerved and with an excited mind, discovered on the banks of the Sarayu an ascetic wounded with a shaft, with his matted locks scattered about, his pitcher of water lying by, his body smeared with blood and dust and afflicted by the dart. Gazing with his eyes at me who was extremely agitated and ill at ease, he said these words sternly, as if consuming me with his energy, 'What wrong, O monarch, had I residing in the woods done thee, that coming to procure water for my parents, I have been thus afflicted by thee? By piercing my marrow with a shaft, thou hast slain both my aged and blind father and mother. Surely, they feeble and blind, who afflicted by thirst are remaining in expectation of me, will now bear (the stress and tension of) the expectation as well as the parching thirst. Surely asceticism and study carry no fruit with them, since I lying low on the ground, my father knows nothing about it. And what could he do, even if he knew it, being as he is incapable and unable to go about? One tree cannot rescue another that is being batttered (by the winds). Do thou, O descendant of Raghu, thyself going to my father, speedily inform of him this that has occurred. But take care that like a fire waxing furious consuming a wood, he in his ire do not burn thee. This narrow way, O king, will lead thee unto my father's dwelling. Do thou going there, pacify him, so that getting wroth he may not curse thee. Do thou (now), O king, take out the arrow. Thy sharpened shaft afflicts my marrow, like the tide of a river wearing away a hollow-heaving sand bank.' But touching the extracting of the arrow, this thought perplexed me: 'If the arrow is left alone, it pains; if extracted, death ensues.' As I was distressed, aggrieved and inflicted with sorrow, the son of the ascetic perceived my anxiety. Thereupon that one well versed in the scriptures sinking motionless, with his eyes rolling upwards, and waxing extremely weak, said with difficulty, 'Restraining sorrow, I by dint of patience become calm. Do thou remove from thy mind the grief caused by the consciousness of having slain a Brāhmana. O king, I belong not to the twice-born race: let not thy mind be pained. O lord of the foremost men, I was begot by a Vaicya on a Sudra woman.' As he, his vitals afflicted with the shaft, his eyes rolling, inert and trembling on the ground, with his limbs drawn in, was speaking with difficulty, I drew out the arrow. Thereupon, looking at me, the ascetic, growing affrighted, gave up the ghost. On beholding him with his body dripping with water, and mortally wounded, and breathing hard without respite, after he had bewailed his mortal wound, lying on the banks of the Sarayu, I lamented him and was, O gentle lady, greatly aggrieved."

SECTION LXIV.

Remembering the extraordinary death of the Maharshi, that righteous descendant of Raghu, lamenting his son, thus spoke unto Kauçalyā, "Having unwittingly commited that great sin, I, with my senses oppressed through grief, thought within myself as to how I could mend it. Then taking up the pitcher filled with excellent water, I went by the way mentioned and (at last) reached the asylum. There I found his aged, infirm, forlorn, parents, without a one to help them in moving about,—like unto birds whose wings have been severed, keeping up a talk about (their son) without experiencing any fatigue, and like helpless ones feeding on a hope which had been blasted by me. My senses overpowered by grief, and my consciousness almost lost through apprehension, I, arrived at the hermitage, was again overwhelmed with sorrow. Hearing my footsteps, the ascetic said, 'Why, my son, delayest thou? Bring the drink at once. Thy mother, O child, was exceedingly anxious in consequence of thy sporting in the waters. Do thou speedily enter the asylum. O child, it behoveth thee not to take to heart any unkind action that, O son, may have been done unto thee of high fame either by thy mother or myself. Thou art the resource of these helpless ones; thou art the eyes of these bereft of their sight. Our lives are bound up with thee. Why dost not answer?' Seeing the ascetic with a choked utterance indistinctly speaking thus with the letters not articulated clearly, I, dashed in spirits, yet concealing the real state of my mind by assuming a doughty tongue, communicated unto him the danger that had beffallen him in consequence of the calamity of his son: 'I am a Kshatria, Daçarātha (by name), and no son of thine, O magnanimous one. I have come by a misfortune in consequence of an act blamed by the good. O revered one, desirous of killing some beast of prey, an elephant (or some other), come to the waters, I went to the banks of the Sarayu bow in hand. Then hearing sounds from the water of a filling pitcher, I thought,—This must be an elephant.—I wounded it with a shaft. Next coming to the edge of the river, I saw an ascetic lying down on the ground almost deprived of life, with his heart pierced with an arrow. Then coming forward, I in accordance with the direction given by him as he lay in agony, suddenly extracted the arrow from his vitals. And as soon as the arrow had been extracted, he ascended heaven, O reverend sir, lamenting and bewailing you, both grown old. It is through ignorance that I suddenly wounded your son. This having been past, do you favor me with telling me what is now to be done, O ascetic.' Having heard these cruel words, the worshipful ascetic could well by his curse consume me to ashes. With eyes flooded with tears, and well nigh deprived of his senses by grief, that highly energetic one said unto me standing with joined hands, 'If, O king, thou hadst not of thyself immediately communicated unto us this unpleasant news, thy head would have been reduced to a thousand flaws. Not to speak of Kshatriyas, I can even drag the very weilder of the thunderbolt himself from his position, if he knowingly kills one, in especial, that has assumed the Vanaprastha mode of life. Thy head would have been severed in seven, if thou hadst discharged the weapon knowingly at such an asectic staying in austerities and versed in the Vedas. It is because thou hast done this through ignorance that thou (still) livest, else the race itself of the Rāghavas should be not,—and where art thou?' He then said, 'Do thou, O king, take us to the scene. To day will we look our last on our son besmeared with blood, his deer-skin garb falling off (from his body), lying senseless on the earth, and come under the subjection of the lord of righteousness.' Thereupon I alone taking them exceedingly disconsolate to the spot, made the ascetic and his wife touch their son. And having approached their son and touched him, those ascetics fell on his person, and then his father addressed him thus, 'Thou salutest me not to-day, nor dost thou speak to me. Why, my child, dost thou lie down on the ground? Art thou angry (with us)? If, my son, thou dost not feel kindly to me, do thou look up to thy virtuous mother. And why, O son, dost thou not embrace me? Do a thou speak tender words. At the small hours, from whom engaged in study, shall I hear the scriptures sweetly read in a way coming home to the listener's mind? Who, having performed his daily devotions and offered oblations unto the sacrificial fire, will bathe me, afflicted with grief for my son? And who procuring Kandas, fruits and roots, will feed me like an welcome guest, incapable of doing anything and furnishing provisions, and without any one to take care of myself? And, my son, how will I maintain this blind ascetic mother of thine, proud of her son, who is passing her days in misery? Do thou stay, my son, in my behalf. Tomorrow thou wilt go to Yama's mansion with me and thy mother. Distressed with grief and rendered miserable in the forest, both of us deprived of thee shall soon repair to the abode of Yama. Seeing Vivaswata's son, I will say unto him,—Do thou, O lord of justice, forgive me, and let this my son continue to maintain us, his parents. It behoves thee, O righteous and illustrious guardian of the worlds, to confer on me reduced to such a pass this one enduring dakshinā capable of removing our fear.— Thou, my son, art sinless, although slain by this one who has done an unrighteous act; and by the force of this truth, do thou repair to the world of warriors. Do thou, O son, go the supreme way that is gone by heroes who without turning back from the fight, are slain in open encounter. Do thou, O son, go the way that has been gone by Sagara and Saivya and Dilipa and Janamejaya and Nahusa and Dhundumāra. Do thou, O son, go the way that is gone by all creatures! even by ascetics engaged in the study of the Veda, by bestowers of lands, by those performing fire-sacrifices, by individuals each devoted to a single wife, men giving away a thousand kine, persons tending their preceptors, and individuals renouncing lives by fasting. He that is born in such a race cannot come by any evil case. Such a condition be his that has taken the life of thee, my friend.'

"Having thus piteously wept, he along with his wife set about performing the watery rites on behalf of his son. Thereupon speedily assuming a celestial shape, the virtuous son of the ascetic by his own actions ascended heaven in company with Sakra. Then (returning) along with Sakra, the ascetic comforting his aged parents, addressed them, saying, 'I have attained a high state in consequence of having served you. Do you also without delay come unto me.' Having said this, the ascetic's son of restrained senses ascended heaven by means of an excellent and commodious car. Having performed the watery rites, the highly energetic ascetic along with his wife speedily said unto me staying with joined hands, 'Do thou, O monarch, slay me on the instant. I do not grieve to die'—thou hast by thy shaft rendered me who had an only son, absolutely sonless. Since this sorrow arising from the calamity that has befallen my son, is at present mine (through thy instrumentality), I curse thee,—thou shalt even in this way find thy death from grief for thy son. As thou a Kshatriya hast through ignorance slain an ascetic, the sin, O lord of men, of slaying a Brāhmana will not envelope thee speedily; but thou shalt shortly come by this dreadful and mortal condition, like a donor of Dakshinās (coming by the things given away).' Having thus inflicted on me the curse and piteously lamented long, the couple ascended the funeral pile and went to heaven. O noble dame, the crime that I hitting by help of sound, had committed in my boyhood, has reverted to my recollection in course of thought. And, O exalted lady, even as a disease generated by one's taking rice with unhealthy curry, this danger is imminent in consequence of that act. O gentle one, the words of that noble- minded person are about to be verified in me." Having said this and weeping, the king said to his wife, "I shall renounce life through grief for my son. And I shall no more behold thee with my eyes. Do thou, O Kauçalyā, touch me. People going to the mansion of Yama no more behold (their friends). If Rāma touch me directly or otherwise, obtain the exchequer, and be installed as the heir-apparent, meseems, I may yet live. O noble lady, what I have done unto Rāghava is not surely like myself; but what (on the other hand) he has done by me is worthy of him. What sensible man forsaketh his son, albeit he may be wicked? And what son being banished, does not bear ill will towards his father? But I do not see thee with my eyes, and my memory fails. These envoys of Vivaswata's son, O Kauçalyā, urge speed upon me. What can be an object of greater regret than, that I during my last moments cannot behold the righteous Rāma having truth for prowess? Even as the sun drieth up a drop of water, grief for not seeing my son of incomparable acts drieth my spirits. Those are not men—those are gods who in the fifteenth year shall again behold Rāma's countenance graced with elegent and burnished ear-rings. O thou of graceful eye-brows, blessed are they who shall behold Rāma's countenance furnished with eyes resembling lotus-petals, with excellent teeth and a shapely nose, like unto the lord of the stars himself. Blessed are they that shall behold that fragrant face of his like unto the autumnal moon, or the full-blown lotus. Thrice-blessed they who with delighted hearts, shall behold Rāma returned from the forest and come back to Ayodhyā, like unto Sukra crowning the zenith? O Kauçalyā, my heart is weighed down with grief; and I do not perceive objects of hearing, feeling, or taste. My senses are growing dim in consequence of the mental stupor, like the rays of a lamp reduced to smoke, becoming dim when the oil has been exhausted. As the violence of a river wears away its banks. my grief occasioned through my own agency is destroying me, who am helpless and insensible. O mighty-armed Rāghava! O thou remover of my troubles! O thou that dost delight in thy father! thou art my stay, O my son, that hast gone away. O Kauçalyā, I do not see. O wretched Sumitrā! O cruel one, thou enemy of mine, thou Kaikeyi, who hast befouled thy line!" Having thus lamented in presence of Rāma's mother and Sumitrā, king Daçaratha breathed his last.

Thus that distressed lord of men, smitten with the exile of his beloved son, that one possessed of a gracious presence, when the night had been half spent, wrought up with the violence of his emotion, departed this life.

SECTION LXV.

When the night had gone away, on the morning of the next day, eulogists, accomplished bards, genealogists skilled in reciting, and singers versed in musical permutation, presenting themselves at the place of the sovereign, began to perform separately. And as they eulogized the monarch with benedictions loudly uttered, the palace resounded with the sounds of the eulogies. And as the bards hymned the monarch, palm-players celebrating the deeds of the kings of the Raghu race, began to play with their palms. And awakened by those sounds, birds on boughs and in cages worthy of the royal race, uttered notes. And the sacred words uttered (by these), the notes of Vinās, and the valedictory songs of singers filled that mansion. And as on former occasions, men practising purity and well up in serving, with numerous women and eunuchs entered appearance. Persons acquainted with the ceremonials connected with bath, according to the ordinance and in due time, in golden vessels brought water impregnated with hari- sandal powder. Pure females together with many virgins brought kine &c, which were to be touched, Ganges water for sipping, mirrors, cloths, ornaments and other articles. All the things that were procured (for presentation unto the monarch) were worshipped in accordance with prescription, were furnished with auspicious marks, and were of excellent virtues and possessed of auspiciousness. As long as the sun did not rise, all these people remained expecting the presence of the king; but then they were alarmed as to what had occurred.

Those ladies that were beside the bed of the lord of Koçala, were consoling their husband. And engaged in tending the monarch with mild and pliant words, those females knowing the condition of sleep, feeling him as he lay in his bed, did not perceive any action in the ever-moving pulse. Thereupon apprehensive for the king's life, they began to tremble like a blade of grass on a torrent. Filled with doubts at sight of the king, the ladies at last concluded that what had been apprehended (by the monarch) had certainly taken place. Overcome by grief for their sons, Sumitrā and Kauçalyā were sleeping as if they were dead, and had not yet awaked. Deprived of lustre, pallid, stricken by sorrow, and lying with her limbs contracted, Kauçalyā looked like a star enveloped in darkness. And after Kauçalyā, the king, and after him, Sumitrā; and with her countenance faded from grief, this noble lady did not look particularly lovely. Finding these two ladies asleep and the king seeming as if sleeping, the inmates of the inner apartment showed themselves as if their lives had departed out of them. Thereupon exceedingly distressed, those paragons of their sex, like she-elephants in the forest deprived of their leader of the herd, broke out into wailing. At the sounds of their lamentations, bpth Kauçalyā and Sumitrā suddenly regaining consciousness, awoke from their sleep. And Kauçalyā and Sumitrā looking at the king and feeling him, felt down to the earth, exclaiming, "Ah lord." As the daughter of Koçala's lord rolled on the ground, she covered with dust did not appear in all her loveliness, like a star fallen from the sky to the earth below. And when the king had departed this life, the women saw Kauçalyā fallen on the earth like the slain mate of an elephant. Then all the wives of the monarch headed by Kaikeyi, burning with grief and weeping, were well nigh rendered senseless. And the loud sounds emitted by these, mingling with those (who had been lamenting before them), attained greater proportions and filled the hall. And the mansion of the king became filled with people exceedingly excited and frightened, eager to know all about the matter,—became filled with lamentations, with friends afflicted with distress, its joy instantaneously vanished—a scene of distress and dole. Knowing that the lord of earth had departed, his wives surrounding that illustrious one, smitten with excess of sorrow and weeping bitterly and piteously, holding the king's hands indulged in lamentations, like forlorn ones.

SECTION LXVI.

Seeing the king had ascended heaven., like unto a fire that has cooled, or an ocean deprived of its waters, or the sun shorn of his splendour, Kauçalyā afflicted with woe, taking on her lap the head of the king, with tears in her eyes, said, "O Kaikeyi, attain thou thy wishes: do thou enjoy this kingdom rid of thy thorn. O cruel one, O thou of wicked ways, thou that forsaking the king had set thy heart (on having thy son crowned), Rāma had gone away, forsaking me; and now my lord has ascended heaven. I can too longer bear to live, like one left lone in a wilderness by her companions. What other woman except Kaikeyi lost to righteousness, having lost her deity, her lord, wishes to carry on existence in another's kingdom? As a covetuous person taking poison (through anger or some other passion), does not consider himself guilty, (so Kaikeyi) having done this evil through Mantharā's incitement, does not bring her guilt home to her mind. It is through the instrumentality of the hump-backed woman that this race of the Rāghavas has been destroyed by Kaikeyi. Hearing that the king being made to do an unrighteous action, has banished Rāma together with his wife, king Janaka will be filled with grief as I have been. That virtuous one does not know that to-day I have become helpless and been widowed. Rāma of eyes resembling lotus-petals has living been removed from my sight. The fair daughter of Videha's king unworthy of hardship, in ascetic guise is leading a life of trouble and terror in the woods. Hearing at night the dreadful roars of birds and beasts crying, she exceedingly frightened takes shelter with Rāghava. Old and having an only daughter, he revolving in his mind thoughts of Vaidehi, shall, smitten with grief, surely renounce his life. I ever faithful to my lord will die this very day, embracing this body; I will enter fire." As embracing the (dead) body, that unfortunate lady was bewailing, the courtiers had the distressed (queen) removed from there. Then placing the corpse of the king in a (capacious) pan with oil, the courtiers performed the mourning rites of the monarch. But well versed in every thing, the counsellors, in the absence of his son, did not perform the funeral obsequies of the king; and therefore they placed his body stretched in the pan of oil. Alas! at length concluding it for certain that the king was dead, the ladies burst out into lamentations. And raising their arms, with tears trickling down their faces, they in dire affliction and extremely exercised with grief, lamented, "O monarch, why do you forsake us, who have been already deprived of Rāma ever speaking fair and firm in promise? Renounced by Rāma, how shall ye, rendered widows, stay with the wicked Kaikeyi, co-wife with us? That one of free soul is our master, as he is the lord of yourself. Rāma has gone to the woods, forsaking regal dignity. Deprived of you as well as that hero, and overwhelmed with misfortune, how shall we live reprimanded by Kaikeyi? She that has renounced the king, Rāma, and Lakshmana along with Sitā— whom can such a one not renounce?" Thus with tears in their eyes, the wives of that descendant of Raghu, joyless and convulsed with a huge passion, displayed signs of sorrow. Like a night without stars, like a fair one forsaken by her husband, the city of Ayodhyā without the magnanimous monarch did not appear delightful as it had done before, with the populace filled with tears, the ladies uttering exclamations of distress, and the terraces and courts deserted. On the lord of men having ascended heaven from grief, and the wives of the king remaining on the earth, the sun, his journey done, set, and the night began her course. The idea of consuming the king's corpse in the absence of his son did not recommend itself to the assembled adherents (of the departed). Thinking this, they in that way laid the king endowed with an inconceivably dignified presence. And with her terraces overflowing with tears that flooded the throats of the mourners, the city appeared like the welkin without its splendour in the absence of the sun, or the night with the stars enveloped. And on the demise of that illustrious personage, in the city men and women in multitudes, censuring Bharata's mother, became extremely distressed, and did not attain peace of mind.

SECTION LXVII.

AT length the weary night in Ayodhyā. rendered cheerless by lamentations, and populous with men with voice choked with tears, was spent. And when the night departed and the sun had arisen, those officers of the royal house-hold belonging to the twice-born order, Mārkandeya, Maudgalya, Vāmadeva, Kāçyapa, Kātyāyana, Gautama, and the highly famous Jāvāli, assembled together along with the the counsellors, spoke each on different topics. Then facing the royal priest, the eminent Vasistha, they said, "That night that had appeared like unto an hundred years has at last been painfully passed. The king racked by sorrow for his son has breathed his last, the mighty monarch has ascended heaven, Rāma has taken refuge in the woods, the energetic Lakshmana has gone with Rāma, and both Bharata and Satrugna— repressors of foes—are staying in Kekaya in pleasant Rajagriha, the abode of their maternal grandfather. Do you select some one this very day from the descendants of Ikshwāku, be king here. Verily doth a kingdom go to ruin, when without a king. He that goes garlanded with lightning, and has a mighty voice, even the cloud—doth not with skyey shower drench the Earth in a kingdom without a king. In a kingless kingdom no one sows corn. In a kingless kingdom the son does not obey his sire, or the wife her husband. A kingless kingdom possesses no wealth, and wives are hard to keep in such a place. This great fear attends a kingless country. And where is other morality (besides that detailed above) to be found at such a place? In a kingless country men do not form themselves into associations, nor do they, inspired with cheerfulness, make elegant gardens or sacred edifices. In a kingless country, the twice-born ones do not celebrate sacrifices. In a kingless country, in mighty sacrifices wealthy Brāhmanas do not confer (on the officiating priests) the dakshinās (which they receive according to the ordinance), In a kingless country, neither social gatherings, nor festivities characterised by the presence of merry theatrical managers and performers, increase. In a kingless country disputants cannot decide their point; nor are persons given to hearing Purānic recitations pleased by those delighting in the practice. In a kingless country, bevies of virgins decked in gold do not repair to gardens for purposes of sport. In a kingless country, the wealthy are not well protected; nor do shepherds and cultivators sleep with their doors open. In a kingless country pleasure-seeking people do not in company with females go to the woods by means of swift vehicles, In a kingless country long-tusked elephants sixty years old, bearing bells on their necks, do not walk the highway. In a kingless country one hears not the clappings of persons engaged in shooting arrows constantly. In a kingless country traders coming from distant lands, loaded with various kinds of merchandise, do not with safety go along the roads. In a kingless country the ascetic with his subdued senses, himself his sole protector, who makes his quarters wherever evening overtakes him, cannot walk contemplating the Deity. In a kingless country, one cannot protect what one has, or procure what one has not. In a kingless country, the forces cannot bear the onslaught of the foe. In a kingless country men cannot at will go on excellent and high-mettled horses and ornamented cars. In a kingless country persons well versed in learning can not engage in controversy, repairing to woods and groves. In a kingless country, persons with intent hearts do not offer garlands, sweets, and dakshinās, for worshipping the gods. In a kingless country, princes smeared with sandal and aguru, do not look graceful like trees in spring. Even as a river without water, a wood without grass, a herd of kine without a keeper, is a kingdom without a king. The sign of a car is its pennon, of fire is smoke, and our banner the king, has gone to heaven. In a kingless country a person hardly preserves his life; and like fishes people eat up one another. Even those heretics who having disregarded the dignity of social morality had met with chastisement at the hands of the king, their fear removed—give themselves airs. As the sight is engaged in the welfare of the body, the king—that fountain of truth and religion—is engaged in compassing the good of the kingdom. The king is truth, the king is morality, the king is the racial dignity of those possessed of the same, the king is the father, the king is the mother—the king compasseth the welfare of men. By virtue of magnanimity of character, a king surpasses Yama and Vaiçravana and Sakra and Varuna endowed with mighty strength. If there were not a king in this world to adjudge fair and foul, darkness would overspread (the face of the earth) and people could not distinguish anything whatever. As the ocean keepeth within its continent, we even while the monarch lived, did not disregard your words. Do you, O best of Brāhmanas, beholding our acts rendered nugatory, and this empire become a wilderness for want of a king, install that descendant of Ikshwāku or any other as king of this realm."