महावीरचरितम् (महाकवि भवभूति - वीररस-प्रधान रामकथा नाटक सम्पूर्ण ७ अङ्क सटीक)

53] Act III, The Shadow — Translation [—iii. 37³ When I indeed knew (kila) that you did not wish my Queen to stay in the house, her, like mere chaff, in that void wilderness, I abandoned, and not even so much as mourned! [But] these scenes long familiar [unto me]—[they] have to-day set my heart melting, so that in sheer helplessness—forgive me [my people]— I am here—weeping! 33 Tamasā—Deep is the roar of this ocean of grief. Vāsantī—My Lord! As matters that have been, it behoves you to endure [them] with courage. Rāma—What is it you say, friend!—courage? Since when this world was deprived of its Queen, this is the twelfth year: Even her very name seems to have vanished quite: and yet Rāma has not ceased to be! 34 Sītā—These words of my noble Lord—by them I am beguiled [into forget- fulness of my own grief]. Tamasā—And no wonder, my child! These words, brimful of affection [but withal] terrible by reason of grief—it is not an unmixed pleasure (priyatama) that they bring thee: they are streams of honey and poison a-dripping upon thee. 35 Rāma—And [furthermore,] Vāsantī, have I not indeed— [This dart that] like a glowing spear-head driven deep and athwart, or like a fang of venom—this pointed dart of grief [that rankles] within my heart [and] tears my vitals to pieces: [have I not then patiently] endured it? 36 Sītā—Such is my hard lot that I am once more¹ a cause of trouble to my noble Lord. Rāma—Although, therefore, [by an extreme effort] I have firmly restrained my mind, still to-day the sight of these various familiar scenes has thus overpowered me. For— To stem the swelling commotions of this wild and tumultuous heart, every single effort that I somehow bring to bear upon it— all those [efforts], one after another, some mysterious impulse within breaks forcibly through, and gains ground for itself (prasarati), as would a torrent of water a dam of sand—[a torrent when] unchecked in its course. 37 Sītā—This my noble Lord's outburst of grief [that is] growing (ārambha) more and more alarmingly irresistible, it has revived the [smouldering] grief of my own heart and makes it tremble [in agitation]. ¹ The earlier occasion was when she was    fight and win her back.    abducted by Rāvaṇa, and Rāma had to

iii. 37⁴—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [54 Vāsantī, to herself—To a piteous plight has His Majesty come; let me, therefore, create a diversion. Aloud. Will now Your Majesty [be pleased to] have a look at these [sights] long familiar [to him]—these spots in the Janasthāna? Rāma—So be it. Rises and walks about. Sītā—The very things that would inflame the sorrow, my dear friend [Vāsantī] conceives [them] as remedies to allay it! Vāsantī, with pathos—Sire, Sire! It was under this, this very bower of creepers that once you stood, your eyes watching [expectant] for her return; while she, attracted by the sight of the [sporting] swans, tarried a little longer [than usual] on the sands of the Godāvarī. But as she returned, observing your slight displeasure, at once did she fold, in tremor, her supplicant hands—[hands that were] graceful like a bud of [red] lotus! 38 Sītā—Oh, cruel, cruel art thou, Vāsantī, in that with these thy efforts to drive the darts deeper and more firmly into the vitals of the heart, thou art again and again making my noble Lord remember me—ill- starred that I am! Rāma—O thou ruthless one, thou daughter of Janaka! I seem to see thee here and there [and everywhere], and yet thou wouldst have no pity on me! Alas, alas, O Queen! My heart is bursting asunder; the frame of my body is flying to pieces; all void seems [now] this world to me; an incessant flame [of anguish] from within, inflames me; immersed in utter darkness, this lonely soul within me seems to plunge down [in deep despair]: an all-overspreading stupor paralyses me—O miserable wretch that I am, what can I do? 39 (Faints.) Sītā—Alas, alas! Once again my noble Lord has fainted! Vāsantī—Be comforted, Sire, be comforted. Sītā—Alas, My noble Lord! That for the sake of me, the ill-starred one, thou on whose blessed life (jammalābha) rests the happiness of this entire living world, [that thou] shouldst be reduced to such a terrible plight and that thy very life should be in frequent danger!—Wretch, wretch that I am. (Faints.) Tamasā—Take heart, take heart, my child! Once again it is the touch of thy hand that is the only remedy for bringing dear Rāma to life. Vāsantī—How now, he does not yet recover! Sītā, my dear friend! Where art thou, alas! Come and rescue this Lord of thy life.

55] Act III, The Shadow — Translation [—iii. 41ᶜ Sītā in excitement approaches [Rāma] and touches his heart and forehead. Vāsantī—Happily dear¹ Rāma has come to life again! Rāma—[This touch,] as if anointing with ambrosial anointments, both within and without, all the tissues of my body—this touch that has [just] brought me to life—once again, it has, all of a sudden, produced, through joy, an infatuation in me—[only] of a different kind. 40 With eyes still closed in joy. Friend Vāsantī! Here is a matter for rejoicing. Vāsantī—And what may it be? Rāma—What else, my friend? She has returned—the daughter of Janaka! Vāsantī—Why, my dear Rāma, where is she? Rāma, enjoying the felicitous touch—Look! Is not she just here in front? Vāsantī—Wherefore, my dear (ayi), [wherefore,] with these frightful excesses of thy ravings that pierce the very vitals, dost thou again [and again] burn me [in anguish], ill-starred that I am, and already burnt up with [the sorrow consequent upon] the sufferings of my dear friend [Sītā]? Sītā—I do wish to withdraw: but this my noble Lord's touch, gentle and cooling by reason of his enduring affection, has all of a sudden allayed even my long and cruel grief, and has held fast, as if with adamantine cement, [this] my moist and powerless hand, [causing it] to tremble in helplessness. Rāma—No: not ‘ravings’, my friend! That [hand,] begirt with bracelet, which formerly, at the time of marriage, I had held [in mine], and which, since then, through all that long time, had been familiar to me by its cooling and ambrosial touch—[touch] that was [once, alas!] mine for the asking— 41 a, b Sītā—Noble my Lord! Thou art [ever] the same—[then and] now! Rāma—that same hand of hers, resembling a tender stalk of lavalī but most happily compared [only] with her own other hand— that hand here I have grasped. 41 c, d Seizes it. Sītā—Oh, fie! Carried away by my noble Lord’s touch I have really committed a blunder! Rāma—Friend Vāsantī! With my eyes (indriya) closed in [the ecstasy of my] joy and in my [present] excited state I am [no longer] master of myself: Do you therefore hold her likewise. Vāsantī—Why! This is sheer madness! ¹ This is the first time in this Act that Vāsantī uses this familiar mode of address.

iii. 41⁷—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [56 Sītā hastily snatches away [her hand] and stands aloof. Rāma—Oh, fie! What a folly! That hand of hers, [tender] like foliage and tremulous and per- spiring¹—[that hand], in my listlessness, I have all of a sudden let slip from my own hand, [no less] tremulous and perspiring! 42 Sītā—Why, alas! Even yet—with his eyes [now] inert [and now] rolling unsteadily all about—he has not yet regained his composure! Tamasā, observing [Sītā], with affection— With a thrill of joy over her moist and tremulous body, my dear child [Sītā] has, at her dear Lord's touch, become like a branch of kadamba, blooming with buds as when washed by early showers and shaken by [gentle] breezes. 43 Sītā, to herself—Why! For this loss of self-control I have really been put to shame by the honoured Tamasā! What indeed will she think [of me but this]?—Such [was] thy abandonment and such [is] thy [persistent] attachment! Rāma, looking all about [him]—Alas! Is she then really not there? ² Why, I say, thou pitiless daughter of the King of Videha! Sītā—Pitiless I certainly must be, in that, seeing thee in this thy plight, I yet continue to live. Rāma—Where then art thou, Queen? Take pity on me! Do not, I beg, abandon me in this plight! Sītā—Why, noble my Lord! Quite otherwise stand the facts! ³ Vāsantī—Please, Sire, with your own proper all-transcendent courage, do, I beg you, restrain-and-compose yourself; your self-deception has gone beyond all bounds. How, [how] could my dear friend [Sītā] have been here? Rāma—Clearly then she is not here; otherwise how could even Vāsantī have failed to see her? Can this then have been a dream? But I was not dreaming; for, sleep has fled [long] away from Rāma! Undoubtedly then this must be that almighty Self-deception which was induced by my repeated meditations [upon her] and which persistently clings to me. Sītā—'Tis I then, the ruthless one, that have caused his deception! Vāsantī—Behold, Sire! Broken to pieces by Jaṭāyus, here is the iron-chariot of the grand- son of Pulastya [Rāvaṇa]. Behold these, in front [of the chariot], the bony remains of the goblin-faced donkeys.⁴ Here on this side are the wings of Jaṭāyu clipped off by [Rāvaṇa's] sword. ¹ When the hands of lovers meet, perspira- ² Cp. page 47, note 2. tion at the finger-tips is one of the signs ³ It is you that have abandoned me. of their love—such is the poetic con- ⁴ Yoked to Rāvaṇa's chariot. vention.

57] Act III, The Shadow — Translation [—iii. 46⁶ From here the enemy [Rāvaṇa], lifting up Sītā all blazing [with ire], the enemy—even like a [black] rain-cloud gleaming (antaḥ) with the tremulous flashes of lightning—rose up into the sky. 44 Sītā, in alarm—Noble my Lord! Our father [Jaṭāyu] is being killed— And he is carrying me too away! Save me! Rāma, swiftly rising—You wretch, you robber of father [Jaṭāyu's] life Where will you escape? Vāsantī—Why, King! You [are] the fire that has consumed the race of Demons: can there still exist any object for your [avenging] wrath? Sītā—Forsooth! I came near losing [all] my wits! Rāma—Much to the purpose indeed are these my [useless] rantings now! Remedies being available, through the exploits of heroes it [that earlier separation] became [for them] a source of constant and engrossing occupation, and for the world a theme for its wondering admiration: such was my [earlier] separation from my fair-eyed [Sītā]; and it did indeed come to an end with the slaying of my enemy [Rāvaṇa]: but how am I to endure, all in silence, this [my present separation,] which has no remedies and knows no end? 45 Sītā—Knows no end?—then alas for me! Rāma—Woe and alas! Where even my friendship with the mighty King of the Monkeys [Sugrīva] avails not—where [equally] unavailing is the valour of the Monkeys themselves as well as the talents of even a Jāmbavant¹—where even the son of the Wind [Māruti] is denied access, and where even Nala,² the son of the Architect of the universe, is unable to construct a path—where even the arrows of the son of Sumitrā [Lakshmaṇa] cannot penetrate: in what region then [so inaccessible] art thou, my dearest? 46 Sītā—So [a time has come when] I must prize more highly my earlier separation! Rāma—Dear Vāsantī, nothing but grief can the sight of Rāma now bring to his friends. How long then must I keep you weeping? Permit me to go, therefore. Sītā, leaning upon Tamasā in agony and dejection—Honoured Tamasā! [Look!] My noble Lord is going away! Tamasā—Compose thyself, child, compose thyself. Let us then, likewise, ¹ Did signal service to Rāma first during the ² Constructed the bridge between India and expedition in search of Sītā, and later in Laṅkā (Ceylon). the war at Laṅkā. 8 [H.O.S. 21]

iii. 46⁶—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [58 repair to the exalted Bhāgīrathī and [there] perform the auspicious birth- day (varsha-vardhana) rites of the long-lived ones, [our] Kuśa and Lava. Sītā—Pray, honoured [Tamasā], permit me, just for a moment [longer], to see him [a sight of whom must be] so rare [hereafter]. Rāma—Furthermore, there is, to participate in the sacred rites of the horse-sacrifice,— Sītā, with trepidation—Who, my noble Lord? Rāma—A golden image of Sītā :— Sītā, with a sigh [of relief]—Now art thou indeed he—my noble Lord! Ha! Now has my noble Lord plucked out [from my heart] that [rankling] dart of abandonment and disgrace! Rāma—And with the sight of it [the image] I shall now for my tear- dimmed eyes seek solace. Sītā—Blessed is that [image] which is so highly esteemed by my noble Lord and which, affording solace to my noble Lord, has become the stay for [all] the hopes of this living world! Tamasā, embracing [Sītā] with a sad and affectionate smile—Don’t you see, my child, that this amounts to praising thy own self? Sītā, looking down abashed, to herself—I have brought honoured Tamasā’s smile upon me! Vāsantī—This your visit has indeed been a great favour for us. As for your going, be it so that no neglect of duty may ensue. Sītā—This time [for once] Vāsantī is acting against my interests. Tamasā—Come, child, let us go: Sītā, reluctantly—We might—might do so. Tamasā—Or rather, how canst thou move from hence, as long as, of thy eyes— As if riveted upon thy dear Lord and wide open in eagerness— [of thy eyes] the withdrawal [from their object] has not yet been completed—[a withdrawal] that is sure to (para) tear thy vitals? 47 Sītā—Homage unto my noble Lord’s lotus-feet, this sight of which some exceptional merit [of mine] has vouchsafed me. Goes off in a swoon. Tamasā—Take comfort, my child! Be of good cheer. Sītā, recovering—Yes: for, how long¹ may it be that amidst enveloping clouds one can win a glimpse of the full moon? Tamasā—How marvellous has been the course of events!² ¹ Not very long: so I must be content with this short visit. ² Or, the arrangement of incidents. The author is here doing the very thing for which, a while ago, he blamed Sītā: in- directly praising himself!

59] Act III, The Shadow — Translation [—iii. 49¹ [All through] it is the one sole sentiment of Pathos that, by a diversity of causes [and attending circumstances], has become diverse and assumed distinct manifestations; just as water assumes eddies and bubbles and billows and other manifestations, whereas it is all [in reality] nothing but mere water. 48 Rāma—This way, my best of aerial cars! All rise. Tamasā and Vāsantī, to Sītā and Rāma [respectively]— May the Earth and the River of the Immortals [Ganges], together with those like us¹—may the revered Preceptor [Vālmīki] who is the Father of metrical compositions—may also sage Vasishṭha along with Arundhatī: may [all] these bestow blessings upon you, conducive to your eternal welfare! 49 Exeunt all. END OF ACT III CALLED THE SHADOW. ¹ I. e. Rivers and sylvan deities respectively. Regarding this joint speech, see Notes.

ACT IV Then enter two ascetic [boys]. First [boy]—Saudhātaki, just look at the beauty of this hermitage of the exalted Vālmīki, wherein to-day, by reason of the arrival of a great crowd of guests, some elaborate preparations are on foot. For— The scum of boiled rice (nīvāra) that was left over after his mate, [the doe]—that has just brought forth young—had partaken of it, [that scum,] warm and savoury, this deer from [our] penance- grove is [now] sipping to his heart’s content. Slightly blended with the diffusing odour of boiled rice mixed with ghee, the fragrance of vegetables cooking, as well as of karkandhū fruit, is spreading everywhere. 1 Saudhātaki—Welcome, special welcome unto these harbingers of holiday— unto these [reverend] grey-beards! First [boy], with a laugh—Extraordinary indeed, O Saudhātaki, is the motive that inspires this your reverence for the gurus! Saudhātaki—I say, Bhāṇḍāyana, what now is the name of the chief leader of this huge train of females—of this guest that has come? Bhāṇḍāyana—Fie! No joking here! For, don’t you see it is the exalted Vasishṭha come from Ṛishyaśṛiṅga’s hermitage, escorting the [late] King Daśaratha’s wives who have come hither following the lead of Arundhatī? Why do you then talk this foolish way? Saudhātaki—Indeed! Vasishṭha? Bhāṇḍāyana—Why, yes. Saudhātaki—I for my part thought that he was a tiger, maybe a wolf! Bhāṇḍāyana—What! what is it that you say? Saudhātaki—Why, hardly had he come when that poor dear heifer of ours he gobbled up with a swoop! Bhāṇḍāyana—Out of deference to the Scriptures that prescribe meat as a part of the welcome-offering (madhuparka), upon the arrival of a learned Brahman [pious] householders offer him either a heifer or a bull or a goat. And this same practice the authors of the Dharma-sūtras also enjoin. Saudhātaki—There now, I have caught you! Bhāṇḍāyana—How, pray?

61] Act IV, Kausalyā and Janaka — Translation [—iv. 3¹ Saudhātaki—For, when the holy Vasishṭha comes the heifer is slain; whereas on the arrival, later this very day, of the royal sage Janaka, even the exalted Vālmīki makes his welcome-offering merely with curds and honey: the heifer is let off. Bhāṇḍāyana—The former (evam) ritual is laid down by the sages for those who have not abjured meat; whereas venerable Janaka has abjured meat. Saudhātaki—And why? Bhāṇḍāyana—Because as soon as he heard of that adverse turn which Queen Sītā's fate had taken, he took up the life of an anchorite. And so it is now some years since he has been practising penance in the penance- grove [called] Chandra-dvīpa.¹ Saudhātaki—If so, why has he come here? Bhāṇḍāyana—Merely to see the [exalted] son of Varuṇa, [Vālmīki,] his old and intimate friend. Saudhātaki—Has he then to-day met his relatives, or has he not? Bhāṇḍāyana—It is only just now that the exalted Vasishṭha sent the exalted Arundhatī unto the Queen[-mother] Kausalyā, bidding her to go in person and meet the King of Videha [Janaka]. Saudhātaki—As these old folks have congregated together, so likewise let us band our comrades together and—as is meet (sambhāvemha)—play in celebration of this [great] holiday. They walk about. Bhāṇḍāyana—And this here is that discourser in Brahma, that ancient royal sage, King Janaka, who, having paid his honours to Vālmīki and Vasishṭha, is now reposing under the shade (mūla) of this tree outside the hermitage: he who— With Sītā's sorrow ever preying upon his heart, is burning [within himself]; like unto an ancient tree invaded by some inwardly- consuming fire. 2 Both go out. END OF INTERLUDE. Then enters Janaka. Janaka—Kept alive (vishakta) by that great and intense and agonizing, by that heart-rending calamity that fell upon my child [Sītā], this my acute and incessantly flowing grief that grides my vitals like a saw, even with this lapse of time it ceases not, as if it were a recent [grief]! 3 Oh, woful luck, that while age and this overwhelming sorrow, and ¹ Lit. Moon-island.

iv. 3¹—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [62 furthermore, the [severe] penances of parāka,¹ sāntapana,² and so forth— while all these are using up its substance and humours, this accursed body of mine, bereft of its staying [tissues], even now it refuses to fall! Those are the so-called Sunless regions enveloped in blind darkness; [and they,] say the sages, are assigned [after death] unto the men who slay themselves.³ Even after the lapse of so many years, these transports of a grief that is as poignant as though it were fresh, and that, through my continual broodings over it, is steadily gaining in vividness—[these transports] know no abating. Alas, alas! O thou that didst spring from the [very] altar of the [holy] sacrifice,-my Sītā, such has come to be the lot of thy life that, for very shame, I cannot even cry aloud at will. Alas, alas, [my] daughter!— I remember—when thou wast yet a child—that little lotus-like mouth with its capricious cryings and laughings, [that mouth] blooming with the tips of a few tender and bud-like teeth, and stammering over thy sweet and thoughtless prattle. 4 Exalted Earth! Thou certainly art excessively hard : Thou and Fire and the Sages—[sage] Vasishṭha’s wife [Arundhatī] and the [holy] Ganges—when ye all and when even the great guru of Raghu’s family, the divine Sun himself, knew her greatness ; when, as the [sacred] Word unto Learning, thou unto her didst thyself give birth, and who was no less divine than [Learning herself] : Of such a daughter wherefore then didst thou, O ruthless one, permit that outrageous death ⁴ (viśasana) ? 5 [Voice,] behind the curtain—This way, your exalted Ladyship—This way, my great Queen ! Janaka, looking—Oh, it is Grishṭi, showing the way to the exalted Arundhatī. Rising. But whom now does he style great Queen ? Observing. Alas ! Is she then no other than the wedded wife of the great King Daśaratha—Kausalyā, my dear friend ? Who indeed can believe that she is the same ? In Daśaratha’s house she was like the Goddess of Wealth: or rather, why say like? She was the Goddess of Wealth herself. But woe and alas! Now, following the decree of Fate, she has become like some strange and unfamiliar being, all made up of grief : Alas for the outcome! 6

¹ A twelve-days’ fast. ² A modified form of fast in which only one variety of food—milk, curds, ghee, and so forth—is eaten every day. ³ Or, in Shakespeare’s words—‘O ... that the Everlasting had not fix’d His canon ’gainst self-slaughter !’ ⁴ Nearly every one thinks that Sītā is dead. So Janaka here, and so Rāma at iii. 34.

63] Act IV, Kausalyā and Janaka — Translation [—iv. 10ᶜ Here is another unhappy reversal of circumstances : That very same person [Kausalyā] that, formerly, was unto me like an embodiment of festal joy, the sight of her has now become unendurable, like brine upon an [open] wound! 7 Then enter Arundhatī and Kausalyā and a chamberlain [Gṛishṭi]. Arundhatī—Why, I say, aren’t you directed by your family preceptor [Vasishṭha] to go in person and see the King of Videha? It was for this too that I am sent. What means then, at each step, this your extreme lack of determination? \ Chamberlain—Queen, compose yourself, I beg you, and follow the direction of the exalted Vasishṭha. Kausalyā—That in times like these I should have to see the Lord of Mithilā [Janaka]—this makes my griefs well up all at once within me: I am powerless to hold together my heart the roots of which are as if loosening from their bonds. Arundhatī—This, no doubt, is quite natural : Although never [quite] ceasing to flow entirely, the sorrows of men, caused by separations from dearest relatives, become, at the sight of some very dear friend, altogether unendurable and as if in thousands of floods they seem to gush forth. 8 Kausalyā—And how may we—when my dear daughter-in-law [Sītā] has fared thus—[how may we] look upon the face of her father, the royal sage? Arundhatī—And here he is, your noble connexion and the sustainer of the family of the Janakas—he whom sage Yājñavalkya has initiated into¹ the knowledge of Brahma. 9 Kausalyā—And this is he who was a delight to the heart of my great King [Daśaratha]—the father of my dear daughter-in-law [Sītā]—the royal sage. Ha! I am put in mind of those times when every day brought forth many an unbidden festivity. Alas, O Fate, that it should be no more! Janaka, approaching—Exalted Arundhatī! This is Vaideha, the Sīra- dhvaja,² making homage unto you. In your company [your husband] regards himself as [more] holy, although he is himself the store of holy light—your husband who, of all the gurus of yore, is indeed the supreme guru; with my head bowing low down to the earth I salute you, the exalted one, who for the universe (trilokī) are the [very] fountain of its bliss ¹ Literally, to whom he has taught or solemnly ² Literally, one whose banner has the plough set forth (jagau) the knowledge, as in the as an emblem. Bṛihadāraṇyaka Upanishad.

iv. 10ᵈ—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [64 (māṅgalyā), and who are, like the divine Dawn, adorable to the world. 10 Arundhatī—May, the Light Supreme shine within thee! And may He also spread His holiness over thee (punātu), the Orb divine (deva) that blazes from beyond darkness [and dispels it]! Janaka—Worthy Gṛiṣhṭi, is it all well with this mother of that—that Shepherd of the people?¹ Chamberlain, aside—Surely, he has reproved us quite bitterly. Aloud. Royal sage! When, taking offence at this very thing, the Queen [Kausalyā] has for so long a time declined the very sight of the moon-like face of her dear [son] Rāma, it is unkind of you to add to the grief of her who is already so much grieved. And as to our dear Rāma, it was a peculiar stroke of his misfortune that his subjects should, as is well known (kila), set agoing all around that foul calumny. And it was because those little minds disbelieved the Fire-ordeal that he did that cruel deed. Janaka—What! And who is this Fire that he should essay to purify our daughter? Alas! Insulted as we already are by Rāmabhadra, here is a fresh insult, when people begin to talk like that! Arundhatī, heaving a sigh—Exactly so. To talk of fire—fire! in connexion with Sītā is highly derogatory. Say merely ‘Sītā’ and all is said. Alas, my dear girl,— Thou art unto me a child, a pupil: be that as it may, the eminence of thy virtue compels my devotion for thee. Let alone the fact that thou art a child or a woman, thou art nevertheless adorable to the worlds: for, it is virtue—amongst those that are virtuous— that has a claim for respect, and not mere sex or age. 11 Kausalyā—Oh, I am bursting with my agonies! Faints. Janaka—Alas! What is this? Arundhatī—What else can it be, my Royal sage? That King [Daśaratha]—that bliss—those dear children—those [old] days—all this has flashed upon her memory at the sight of thee, her friend. And so, in her present dreadful plight, don't you see that this thy dear friend has really fainted? For, the hearts of matrons are tender like a flower. 12 Janaka—Alas, alas! I have proved altogether too cruel here, in that I see with rather unkindly eyes her whom I have met after such a long time, this dear wife of my dear friend [Daśaratha]. A worthy connexion was he, a friend after my heart, my very heart in fact; he was an embodiment of joy to me, he was the ¹ Said in bitter irony.

65] Act IV, Kausalyā and Janaka — Translation [—iv. 17ᶜ whole purpose of my existence: my body, my soul, my whatever- else-dearer-than-these-there-may-be—was there anything that that great and illustrious King Daśaratha was not to me? 13 And is this, alas, that same Kausalyā?— Between her and her Lord, in [the confidence of] privacy, whatever occasion of displeasure there arose, it was to me that the husband and the wife severally communicated their complaints; and then, whether it was a case for forbearance or for anger, the issue rested entirely with me. Away rather with these memories that assail and consume my heart! 14 Arundhatī—Alas, alas! With this long suspension of breath her heart has [almost] ceased to beat! Janaka—Alas, my dear friend! Sprinkles [her] with water from his _kamaṇḍalu._¹ Chamberlain—Having at first, like a delightful bosom-friend, mani- fested unalloyed favours, Fate, terrible in the suddenness of its reverses, is next intensifying [by contrast] the anguish of the heart. 15 Kausalyā, regaining consciousness—Alas my child, Jānakī, where art thou? I [still] remember thy face all suffused with the glory imparted to it by thy [recent] marriage sacraments, [thy face] with that pure smile playing upon it, and charming like a [full-blown] lotus. With limbs fair as the light of the shining moon, once more, my darling, do thou grace my lap. The great King [Daśaratha] would always say: "Of the mightier ancestors of the race of Raghu she may be a daughter-in-law; to us, however— such is our friendship for Janaka—she is just 'little daughter' [no more, but no less]." Chamberlain—It was, just as the Queen has said: Although the King [Daśaratha] had five children, it was [Rāma] the enemy of Subāhu² that was specially dear to him. So likewise, among his four daughters-in-law, Sītā was as much adored by him as was his own daughter, Śāntā. 16 Janaka—Oh, my dear friend, thou great King, Daśaratha! So indeed thou art, in every way a delight to the heart: How canst thou be forgotten? It is customary (kila) for the parents of the bride to pay court to the kinsfolk of the son-in-law; but with our connexion [through the marriage of Rāma and Sītā] all was reversed: it was me that thou wast assiduous to please! Such as thou hast been, Time ¹ An ascetic's gourd. ² A demon who molested Viśvāmitra's sacri- fice, and who was killed by Rāma. 9 [H.O.S. 21]

iv. 17ᶜ—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [66 has snatched thee away, as also that cause of our connexion [Sītā]. Now in this world of life, in this dreary hell, accursed be the continuance of me, the sinful! 17 Kausalyā—Dear Jānakī, what can I do? Fastened firm [to my body] with a hard and adamantine cement, this wretched life will not leave me, ill-fated that I am! Arundhatī—Take heart, thou who art sprung from kings! It is at least necessary to allow your tears rest from time to time. And don't you further recall what, in Ṛiṣhyaśṛiṅga’s hermitage, your family-preceptor ¹ [Vasiṣhṭha] said?—‘That it was to be so, we had already divined; but it will all have a prosperous issue.’ Kausalyā—How [can that be] when I have already outlived my wishes? Arundhatī—Do you then, O daughter of kings, regard that as an untruthful utterance? You must not, O noble Princess, think it false: it must come about. The utterances of those Brahmans to whom has been revealed the Light [celestial]—let there be no doubt about them. For, upon their speech awaits the beneficent Lakshmī; ² they never utter words that do not come true. 18 A [confused] noise ³ behind the curtain: all listen. Janaka—To-day being a holiday [in honour] of [distinguished] guests, it is the boys at sport that are raising this noise. Kausalyā—It is very easy indeed, in childhood, to find joys! Observing. Aha! Who now is this [boy] in the midst of these [others]—he with his form (aṅga) supple and handsome and well-proportioned, and endowed with the grace of [our] dear Rāma: who is he that so delights even our sight? Arundhatī, Aside, with joyful tears—This then must be the thing that Bhāgīrathī related to me: the secret that was as a nectar to my ears. We do not yet know, though, which of the two long-lived ones—Kuśa and Lava—he may be. Janaka—Like a blue lotus-leaf dark and mellow [in complexion], marked with the round tufted locks [of a Kshatriya], and by his guileless charms adorning, as with an innate-grace, the circle of his school-mates—the sight of him all of a sudden gives an ambrosial collyrium to my eyes, as if [he were] that Joy of the [race of the] Raghus, my darling [Rāma] himself, become once again a child! Who may he be? 19 ¹ It is not usual for a wife to call her husband ² Goddess of wealth and prosperity. by his name. Cp. p. 63, l. 6, above. ³ As if in confirmation of iv. 18.

67] Act IV, Kausalyā and Janaka — Translation [—iv. 21⁸ Chamberlain—I think the youth must certainly be a Kshatriya student. Janaka—Assuredly: for, he carries Upon his back, one on each side (abhitas), a pair of quivers, the heron-feathered [arrows] of which kiss his crest; his chest, bearing [yet] the ample marks of the holy ashes, is clad in the hide of a ruru-deer; a girdle of the mūrvā-grass holds together his madder-dyed lower garment; in his hand he has a rosary of rudrākshas and a bow, as well as another staff made of pippala. 20 Exalted Arundhatī, what do you surmise? Whence is he? Arundhatī—It is only to-day that we have come. Janaka—Worthy Gṛishṭi, I have an intense curiosity; do you therefore go right to the exalted Vālmīki and inquire. Unto this child, likewise, say, ‘Here are some old people desirous of seeing thee.’ Chamberlain—As you command. Exit. Kausalyā—What do you think? Thus addressed, will he come? Arundhatī—Can proper conduct be lacking in one whose form is so graceful? Kausalyā—Lo! Having respectfully listened to Gṛishṭi’s speech hasn’t he dismissed the ascetic youths and isn’t the dear lad in fact approaching hither? Janaka, observing him long and attentively—Ah, how extraordinary all this! This his perfect nobleness [of mien], charming in its modest and youthful simplicity—[this perfection] which only the connoisseurs can comprehend but which passes the wits of the vulgar—it forcibly carries away my mind although [naturally] proof against such transports (sammoha), as would a tiny piece of magnet a mass of iron. 21 Lava, entering—Ignorant as I am of their names and order of precedence and lineage, and so not knowing what propriety demands, how am I going to salute these people, worthy of a salutation though they undoubtedly are? Reflecting. This, however, the ancients have declared to be an unobjectionable mode [of address]. Approaching them with modesty. This is Lava, bowing his head unto you all in due succession. Arundhatī and Janaka—Mayest thou live long, O blessed one! Kausalyā—Long life, my darling! Arundhatī—Come, dear! Taking Lava in her lap, aside. O bliss! Not only my lap but my life’s desire also has been filled! Kausalyā—Come to me also, a while, my darling! Taking him in her lap.

iv. 21⁸—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [68 How strange! Not only in the build of his body, which is dark and resplendent like a half-opened blue lotus—nor again only in his voice, that has the prolonged resonance of the sonorous notes of a swan whose throat is mellowed (kasāa) by feeding on lotus filaments—does he take after our dear Rāma; even the very touch of his body, smooth like the interior of a full-grown lotus, has the same quality. Let me look at thy face a while, my darling! Raises his chin and observes him closely; then with tears and as-if-trying-to-divine-some-hidden-secret (sākūtam). And don't you also mark it, Royal sage? Narrowly observed, does he not [also] show resemblance to the moon-like face of [Sītā] my dear daughter-in-law? Janaka—I mark it, friend, I mark it. Kausalyā—Forsooth! My heart, as if in madness, dreams of things impossible, and wanders far, far astray! Janaka—In this boy here is plainly visible [the contour] of my daughter as well as of [Rāma,] that eminent scion of Raghu: it is as if all perfectly mirrored in him—that very same form, that grandeur, that voice, that inborn modesty, and even that selfsame divine lustre. Alas, alas, Fate! Wherefore is it that my mind should now run waywardly into devious paths? 22 Kausalyā—Darling, Hast thou a mother? Dost thou remember thy father? Lava—No. Kausalyā—Whose [son] art thou then? Lava—The exalted Vālmīki's. Kausalyā—Why, my darling! Say that [at least] which may be said.¹ Lava—This is all I know. [Voice,] behind the curtain—Hey ho, soldiers! This is what Prince Chandraketu commands: 'Let no one trespass on the ground sacred to (abhyarṇa) the hermitage!' Arundhatī and Janaka—Ah! Following—as its guard—the track of the sacrificial horse, it is dear Chandraketu that we shall see to-day—What a happy day this! Kausalyā—'The son of our dear Lakshmaṇa commands'—these words that I hear are [indeed] sweet like drops of nectar! Lava—Noble Sir, who is he—this Chandraketu? Janaka—Knowest thou Rāma and Lakshmaṇa, the sons of Daśaratha? Lava—The same that are the heroes of the Rāmāyaṇa? Janaka—The same. Lava—Why, then of course I know them. ¹ Vālmīki, of course, never married.

69] Act IV, Kausalyā and Janaka — Translation [—iv. 22⁴³ Janaka—Of that Lakshmaṇa this Chandraketu is the son. Lava—He is then the son of Ūrmilā, and a daughter’s-son of the royal sage Janaka ? Arundhatī, smiling—Thou hast indeed evidenced thy thorough acquaintance with the story ! Janaka—If then thou dost claim to be so conversant with the story, let us put thee some questions : Tell us, first, how many children do the sons of Daśaratha have, how are they named, and of what [mothers] are they born ? Lava—This portion of the story, to this day, has never been heard either by us or by any one else. Janaka—Is it that it has not been composed by the poet ? Lava—Has been composed, but not published. And a certain section from the same has been turned into a distinct type of work, full of sentiment, and adapted to dramatic representation. And that, written in his own hand, the exalted sage [Vālmīki] has sent over to sage Bharata, the author of the Aphorisms of Dramaturgy.¹ Janaka—To what end ? Lava—That holy sage [Bharata], they say, is going to have it enacted by the heavenly nymphs. Janaka—All this is, to us, extremely tantalizing ! Lava—Great, however, has been the care that the exalted Vālmīki bestowed upon it. For, to prevent [possible] mishap, he has sent our brother, bow in hand, as an escort of those of his pupils by whose hands he sent [the work] to the hermitage of Bharata. Kausalyā—So, thou hast also a brother ? Lava—Yes : the noble Kuśa. Kausalyā—Implying [by thy manner of mention] an elder brother ? Lava—Even so : the order of birth has—as is right (kila)—given him the seniority. Janaka—You—my long-lived ones—are you then twins ? Lava—Exactly. Janaka—Tell me, how does the [published] part of the story end ? Lava—Harassed by false rumours current among his subjects, the King [Rāma] banished Queen Sītā, born [though she was] from the [very] ¹ Literally, Author of the science of dancing and vocal and instrumental music—all the three being the elements of a drama. The original Aphorisms have not sur- vived. The extant ‘Nāṭya-śāstra’ is probably a later digest, bearing to the original Aphorisms the same relation that the ‘Kāmandakīya Nīti-śāstra’ has to the newly discovered ‘Kauṭilīya Artha-śāstra’.

iv. 22⁴³—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [70 sacrificial ground of the Gods. Her, nearing her travail, Lakshmaṇa abandoned all alone in the forest and returned [to Ayodhyā]. Kausalyā—Alas, my child! Thou whose face was lovable like the moon! In that forlorn plight, of what sudden and malignant sports of Fate has the flower of thy body been the victim? Janaka—Alas, my daughter! Assuredly, when that indignity fell upon thee, and the terrors of the wilderness, and the pains at the hour of childbirth; when on all sides troops of flesh-eating [Monsters] thronged about thee; then, stricken with terror, more than once must thy mind have turned to me as thy [natural] protector! 23 Lava, to Arundhatī—Pray, Madam, who are these? Arundhatī—This is Kausalyā, and this is Janaka. Lava looks at them with sorrow, respect, and curiosity. Janaka—Oh, the impudence of these citizens! Oh, the precipitancy of King Rāma's actions! When over this dreaded fall of a thunderbolt in the form of this dire calamity I sit for ever brooding, is it not time [yet, I ask,] for my wrath to kindle-and-blaze forth with arrow or with curse? 24 a, b Kausalyā, in fear—Help, exalted [Arundhatī], help: Appease this angry royal sage. Arundhatī—When high-souled persons are treated with indignity, this [viz. being victims to their wrath] is the natural expiation [of that offence]. [Janaka,] my King, Rāma is as a son to thee; and the subjects, contemptible though they be, have to be protected. 25 Janaka—Peace then! Let neither [arrow nor curse] be used upon [Rāma] that scion of Raghu; for he is the treasure of a son unto me: And as to the subjects, they are for the most part a mere assemblage of Brahmans, of infants and of dotards, of decrepits and of females! 24 c, d Enter some excited boys. Boys—Prince, O Prince! A strange species of animal—a horse, a horse— as the country-folks call it—why, we have just now seen one with our own eyes! Lava—[A horse?] A horse is mentioned in that catalogue of beasts and in the treatises on warfare. Say, what is he like? Boys—Listen: Behind he carries a flowing tail, and this he's waving all the time. He has a long neck, and hoofs he has—just four. Grass he eats,

71] Act IV, Kausalyā and Janaka — Translation [—iv. 27² and he drops lumps of dung, big as a mango. But why so much talk? He's on the move and will soon be far. Come, come, let us follow. 26 They approach him and pull him by his hands and his garment. Lava, with mingled feelings of curiosity, constraint, and respect—Behold, noble ones! Here am I being dragged [off from your presence] by these boys! Moves about hastily. Arundhatī and Janaka—Thou mayest satisfy thy curiosity, child! Kausalyā—Exalted [Arundhatī], I seem as if robbed [of something], now that he is out of sight. Let us then move from here and see the long-lived one, where he is going. Arundhatī—That nimble child, with his very swift pace, has already shot far ahead: how is it possible to see him now? Chamberlain, entering—The exalted Vālmīki replies, ‘This matter, in good time, you will come to know.’ Janaka—It must then be something very mysterious! Exalted Arundhatī, friend Kausalyā, worthy Gṛishṭi, come, let us go in person and see the exalted son of Varuṇa [Vālmīki]. Exeunt older people. Boys—Let the Prince now look upon this wonder. Lava—Yes, I see it—understand it too. He is evidently a sacrificial horse. Boys—How dost thou know? Lava—Why, fools! Have you not also studied that section? Don't you know, ‘There are cuirassiers, mace-bearers, and bow-men, numbering a hundred of each sort, to form the escort’? And this force here appears to answer the description. If you don't believe me—just ask. Boys—Ho, Sirs! Tell us: Why [in the world] is this horse turned loose and [yet] guarded? Lava, enviously, to himself—A horse-sacrifice is, for the world-conquering Kshatriyas, the great and glorious touchstone of their pre-eminence, cal- culated to abash all [opposing] warriors. [Voice,] behind the curtain— This horse here—he is as the banner or as the proclamation of the valour [of Rāma,] of that one supreme hero of the seven worlds, the foe unto the race of that ten-necked [Rāvaṇa]. 27 Lava, as if in wounded [pride]—Oh, how they inflame my wrath—these words! Boys—There is no use talking—the Prince does know.

iv. 27³—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [72 Lava—Sirs! Is it because [you think] there is no Kshatriya in this world that you are proclaiming in this fashion? [Voice,] behind the curtain—Fellow! To compare with our great King [Rāma] there are not any Kshatriyas. Lava—Fie upon you, villains! If they [your masters] are [great, as you say,] let them be. What need, however, of this your scarecrow [of a proclamation]? But, why waste words thus? Here am I now, seizing by force your ‘banner’ as you call it. 28 Here, Boys! Hem [this horse] in, throw clods at him and compel him to turn back: Let the poor creature, for once, graze amongst the roebucks! A Soldier, entering, angry and overbearing—Tush, rash boy! what didst thou say? Don’t forget (hi) that these files of doughty and ruthless warriors brook not even a mere child’s insolent words. And the Royal Prince Chandraketu, who knows how to chastise an enemy, is [away now], being attracted by a desire to see these mild and unfamiliar forests; but before he returns, do ye, and quickly, slip away through this shady thicket. Boys—Have done with this horse, Prince! For, these columns of warriors with their flashing weapons seem to threaten thee! And our hermitage is far from here. Come then: let us flee with the bounding speed of deer. Lava, with a laugh—So the weapons, you say, are really flashing, are they? Stringing his bow: Then, [let this my bow] with its string lapping—like a tongue— the tapering, tooth-like bow-tips—[this bow] the sound of the twang of which is, like a belching, terrific and grim: [my bow,] imitating the yawns of the jaws in the cavernous mouth of Death as when He grins ready to swallow [the world]—let my bow now open its gaping maw! 29 All walk about, as suits the occasion,¹ and go out. ¹ This would mean that Lava fights the soldier and drives him off the stage, himself in pursuit. END OF ACT IV CALLED KAUSALYĀ AND JANAKA.