The Sanskrit Epics, page 142
Dried her poor eyes, and strove to calm her woe.
With blessings on her hopes the blameless man
In silver tones his soothing speech began:
“First of all faithful wives, O Queen, art thou;
And can I fail to mourn thy sorrows now?
Rest in this holy grove, nor harbour fear
Where dwell in safety e’en the timid deer.
Here shall thine offspring safely see the light,
And be partaker of each holy rite.
Here, near the hermits’ dwellings, shall thou lave
Thy limbs in Tonse’s sin-destroying wave,
And on her isles, by prayer and worship, gain
Sweet peace of mind, and rest from care and pain.
Each hermit maiden with her sweet soft voice,
Shall soothe thy woe, and bid thy heart rejoice:
With fruit and early flowers thy lap shall fill,
And offer grain that springs for us at will.
And here, with labour light, thy task shall be
To water carefully each tender tree,
And learn how sweet a nursing mother’s joy
Ere on thy bosom rest thy darling boy.…”
That very night the banished Sítá bare
Two royal children, most divinely fair.…
The saint Válmíki, with a friend’s delight,
Graced Sítá’s offspring with each holy rite.
Kuśa and Lava — such the names they bore —
Learnt, e’en in childhood, all the Vedas’ lore;
And then the bard, their minstrel souls to train,
Taught them to sing his own immortal strain.
And Ráma’s deeds her boys so sweetly sang,
That Sítá’s breast forgot her bitterest pang.…
Then Sítá’s children, by the saint’s command,
Sang the Rámáyan, wandering through the land.
How could the glorious poem fail to gain
Each heart, each ear that listened to the strain!
So sweet each minstrel’s voice who sang the praise
Of Ráma deathless in Válmíki’s lays.
Ráma himself amid the wondering throng
Marked their fair forms, and loved the noble song,
While, still and weeping, round the nobles stood,
As, on a windless morn, a dewy wood.
On the two minstrels all the people gazed,
Praised their fair looks and marvelled as they praised;
For every eye amid the throng could trace
Ráma’s own image in each youthful face.
Then spoke the king himself and bade them say
Who was their teacher, whose the wondrous lay.
Soon as Válmíki, mighty saint, he saw,
He bowed his head in reverential awe.
“These are thy children” cried the saint, “recall
Thine own dear Sítá, pure and true through all.”
“O holy father,” thus the king replied,
“The faithful lady by the fire was tried;
But the foul demon’s too successful arts
Raised light suspicions in my people’s hearts.
Grant that their breasts may doubt her faith no more,
And thus my Sítá and her sons restore.”
Raghuvaṇśa Cantos XIV, XV.
Parasuráma, Page 87.
“He cleared the earth thrice seven times of the Kshatriya caste, and filled with their blood the five large lakes of Samanta, from which he offered libations to the race of Bhrigu. Offering a solemn sacrifice to the King of the Gods Paraśuráma presented the earth to the ministering priests. Having given the earth to Kaśyapa, the hero of immeasurable prowess retired to the Mahendra mountain, where he still resides; and in this manner was there enmity between him and the race of the Kshatriyas, and thus was the whole earth conquered by Paraśuráma.” The destruction of the Kshatriyas by Paraśuráma had been provoked by the cruelty of the Kshatriyas. Chips from a German Workshop, Vol. II. p. 334.
The scene in which he appears is probably interpolated for the sake of making him declare Ráma to be Vishṇu. “Herr von Schlegel has often remarked to me,” says Lassen, “that without injuring the connexion of the story all the chapters [of the Rámáyan] might be omitted in which Ráma is regarded as an incarnation of Vishṇu. In fact, where the incarnation of Vishṇu as the four sons of Daśaratha is described, the great sacrifice is already ended, and all the priests remunerated at the termination, when the new sacrifice begins at which the Gods appear, then withdraw, and then first propose the incarnation to Vishṇu. If it had been an original circumstance of the story, the Gods would certainly have deliberated on the matter earlier, and the celebration of the sacrifice would have continued without interruption.” Lassen, Indische Alterthumskunde, Vol. I. p. 489.
Yáma, Page 68.
Son of Vivasvat=Jima son of Vivanghvat, the Jamshíd of the later Persians.
Fate, Page 68.
“The idea of fate was different in India from that which prevailed in Greece. In Greece fate was a mysterious, inexorable power which governed men and human events, and from which it was impossible to escape. In India Fate was rather an inevitable consequence of actions done in births antecedent to one’s present state of existence, and was therefore connected with the doctrine of metempsychosis. A misfortune was for the most part a punishment, an expiation of ancient faults not yet entirely cancelled.” Gorresio.
Visvámitra, Page 76.
“Though of royal extraction, Viśvámitra conquered for himself and his family the privileges of a Brahman. He became a Brahman, and thus broke through all the rules of caste. The Brahmans cannot deny the fact, because it forms one of the principal subjects of their legendary poems. But they have spared no pains to represent the exertions of Viśvámitra, in his struggle for Brahmanhood, as so superhuman that no one would easily be tempted to follow his example. No mention is made of these monstrous penances in the Veda, where the struggle between Viśvámitra, the leader of the Kuśikas or Bharatas, and the Brahman Vaśishtha, the leader of the white-robed Tritsus, is represented as the struggle of two rivals for the place of Purohita or chief priest and minister at the court of King Sudás, the son of Pijavana.” Chips from a German Workshop, Vol. II. p. 336.
Household Gods, Page 102.
“No house is supposed to be without its tutelary divinity, but the notion attached to this character is now very far from precise. The deity who is the object of hereditary and family worship, the Kuladevatá, is always one of the leading personages of the Hindu mythology, as Śiva, Vishṇu or Durgá, but the Grihadevatá rarely bears any distinct appellation. In Bengal, the domestic god is sometimes the Sálagrám stone, sometimes the tulasi plant, sometimes a basket with a little rice in it, and sometimes a water-jar — to either of which a brief adoration is daily addressed, most usually by the females of the family. Occasionally small images of Lakshmi or Chaṇdi fulfil the office, or should a snake appear, he is venerated as the guardian of the dwelling. In general, however, in former times, the household deities were regarded as the unseen spirits of ill, the ghosts and goblins who hovered about every spot, and claimed some particular sites as their own. Offerings were made to them in the open air, by scattering a little rice with a short formula at the close of all ceremonies to keep them in good humour.
“The household gods correspond better with the genii locorum than with the lares or penates of autiquity.”
H. H. Wilson.
Page 107.
Śaivya, a king whom earth obeyed,
Once to a hawk a promise made.
The following is a free version of this very ancient story which occurs more than once in the Mahábhárat:
The Suppliant Dove.
Chased by a hawk there came a dove
With worn and weary wing,
And took her stand upon the hand
Of Káśí’s mighty king.
The monarch smoothed her ruffled plumes
And laid her on his breast,
And cried, “No fear shall vex thee here,
Rest, pretty egg-born, rest!
Fair Káśí’s realm is rich and wide,
With golden harvests gay,
But all that’s mine will I resign
Ere I my guest betray.”
But panting for his half won spoil
The hawk was close behind.
And with wild cry and eager eye
Came swooping down the wind:
“This bird,” he cried, “my destined prize,
’Tis not for thee to shield:
’Tis mine by right and toilsome flight
O’er hill and dale and field.
Hunger and thirst oppress me sore,
And I am faint with toil:
Thou shouldst not stay a bird of prey
Who claims his rightful spoil.
They say thou art a glorious king,
And justice is thy care:
Then justly reign in thy domain,
Nor rob the birds of air.”
Then cried the king: “A cow or deer
For thee shall straightway bleed,
Or let a ram or tender lamb
Be slain, for thee to feed.
Mine oath forbids me to betray
My little twice-born guest:
See how she clings with trembling wings
To her protector’s breast.”
“No flesh of lambs,” the hawk replied,
“No blood of deer for me;
The falcon loves to feed on doves
And such is Heaven’s decree.
But if affection for the dove
Thy pitying heart has stirred,
Let thine own flesh my maw refresh,
Weighed down against the bird.”
He carved the flesh from off his side,
And threw it in the scale,
While women’s cries smote on the skies
With loud lament and wail.
He hacked the flesh from side and arm,
From chest and back and thigh,
But still above the little dove
The monarch’s scale stood high.
He heaped the scale with piles of flesh,
With sinews, blood and skin,
And when alone was left him bone
He threw himself therein.
Then thundered voices through the air;
The sky grew black as night;
And fever took the earth that shook
To see that wondrous sight.
The blessed Gods, from every sphere,
By Indra led, came nigh:
While drum and flute and shell and lute
Made music in the sky.
They rained immortal chaplets down,
Which hands celestial twine,
And softly shed upon his head
Pure Amrit, drink divine.
Then God and Seraph, Bard and Nymph
Their heavenly voices raised,
And a glad throng with dance and song
The glorious monarch praised.
They set him on a golden car
That blazed with many a gem;
Then swiftly through the air they flew,
And bore him home with them.
Thus Káśí’s lord, by noble deed,
Won heaven and deathless fame:
And when the weak protection seek
From thee, do thou the same.
Scenes from the Rámáyan, &c.
Page 108.
The ceremonies that attended the consecration of a king (Abhikshepa lit. Sprinkling over) are fully described in Goldstücker’s Dictionary, from which the following extract is made: “The type of the inauguration ceremony as practised at the Epic period may probably be recognized in the history of the inauguration of Ráma, as told in the Rámáyana, and in that of the inauguration of Yudhishṭhira, as told in the Mahábháratha. Neither ceremony is described in these poems with the full detail which is given of the vaidik rite in the Aitareya-Bráhmaṇam; but the allusion that Ráma was inaugurated by Vaśishṭha and the other Bráhmanas in the same manner as Indra by the Vasus … and the observation which is made in some passages that a certain rite of the inauguration was performed ‘according to the sacred rule’ … admit of the conclusion that the ceremony was supposed to have taken place in conformity with the vaidik injunction.… As the inauguration of Ráma was intended and the necessary preparations for it were made when his father Daśaratha was still alive, but as the ceremony itself, through the intrigues of his step-mother Kaikeyí, did not take place then, but fourteen years later, after the death of Daśaratha, an account of the preparatory ceremonies is given in the Ayodhyákáṇḍa (Book II) as well as in the Yuddha-Káṇḍa (Book VI.) of the Rámáyaṇa, but an account of the complete ceremony in the latter book alone. According to the Ayodhyákáṇḍa, on the day preceding the intended inauguration Ráma and his wife Sítá held a fast, and in the night they performed this preliminary rite: Ráma having made his ablutions, approached the idol of Náráyaṇa, took a cup of clarified butter, as the religious law prescribes, made a libation of it into the kindled fire, and drank the remainder while wishing what was agreeable to his heart. Then, with his mind fixed on the divinity he lay, silent and composed, together with Sítá, on a bed of Kuśa-grass, which was spread before the altar of Vishṇu, until the last watch of the night, when he awoke and ordered the palace to be prepared for the solemnity. At day-break reminded of the time by the voices of the bards, he performed the usual morning devotion and praised the divinity. In the meantime the town Ayodhyá had assumed a festive appearance and the inauguration implements had been arranged … golden water-jars, an ornamented throne-seat, a chariot covered with a splendid tiger-skin, water taken from the confluence of the Ganges and Jumna, as well as from other sacred rivers, tanks, wells, lakes, and from all oceans, honey, curd, clarified butter, fried grain, Kuśa-grass, flowers, milk; besides, eight beautiful damsels, and a splendid furious elephant, golden and silver jars, filled with water, covered with Udumbara branches and various lotus flowers, besides a white jewelled chourie, a white splendid parasol, a white bull, a white horse, all manner of musical instruments and bards.… In the preceding chapter … there are mentioned two white chouries instead of one, and all kinds of seeds, perfumes and jewels, a scimitar, a bow, a litter, a golden vase, and a blazing fire, and amongst the living implements of the pageant, instead of the bards, gaudy courtesans, and besides the eight damsels, professors of divinity, Bráhmaṇas, cows and pure kinds of wild beasts and birds, the chiefs of town and country-people and the citizens with their train.”
Page 109.
Then with the royal chaplains they
Took each his place in long array.
The twice born chiefs, with zealous heed,
Made ready what the rite would need.
“Now about the office of a Purohita (house priest). The gods do not eat the food offered by a king, who has no house-priest (Purohita). Thence the king even when (not) intending to bring a sacrifice, should appoint a Bráhman to the office of house-priest.” Haug’s Autareya Bráhmanam. Vol. II. p. 528.
Page 110.
There by the gate the Sáras screamed.
The Sáras or Indian Crane is a magnificent bird easily domesticated and speedily constituting himself the watchman of his master’s house and garden. Unfortunately he soon becomes a troublesome and even dangerous dependent, attacking strangers with his long bill and powerful wings, and warring especially upon “small infantry” with unrelenting ferocity.
Page 120.
My mothers or my sire the king.
All the wives of the king his father are regarded and spoken of by Ráma as his mothers.
Page 125.
Such blessings as the Gods o’erjoyed
Poured forth when Vritra was destroyed.
“Mythology regards Vritra as a demon or Asur, the implacable enemy of Indra, but this is not the primitive idea contained in the name of Vritra. In the hymns of the Veda Vritra appears to be the thick dark cloud which Indra the God of the firmament attacks and disperses with his thunderbolt.” Gorresio.
“In that class of Rig-veda hymns which there is reason to look upon as the oldest portion of Vedic poetry, the character of Indra is that of a mighty ruler of the firmament, and his principal feat is that of conquering the demon Vritra, a symbolical personification of the cloud which obstructs the clearness of the sky, and withholds the fructifying rain from the earth. In his battles with Vritra he is therefore described as ‘opening the receptacles of the waters,’ as ‘cleaving the cloud’ with his ‘far-whirling thunderbolt,’ as ‘casting the waters down to earth,’ and ‘restoring the sun to the sky.’ He is in consequence ‘the upholder of heaven, earth, and firmament,’ and the god ‘who has engendered the sun and the dawn.’ ” Chambers’s Cyclopædia, Indra.
“Throughout these hymns two images stand out before us with overpowering distinctness. On one side is the bright god of the heaven, as beneficent as he is irresistible: on the other the demon of night and of darkness, as false and treachorous as he is malignant.… The latter (as his name Vritra, from var, to veil, indicates) is pre-eminently the thief who hides away the rain-clouds.… But the myth is yet in too early a state to allow of the definite designations which are brought before us in the conflicts of Zeus with Typhôn and his monstrous progeny, of Apollôn with the Pythôn, of Bellerophôn with Chimaira of Oidipous with the Sphinx, of Hercules with Cacus, of Sigurd with the dragon Fafnir; and thus not only is Vritra known by many names, but he is opposed sometimes by Indra, sometimes by Agni the fire-god, sometimes by Trita, Brihaspati, or other deities; or rather these are all names of one and the same god.” Cox’s Mythology of the Aryan Nations. Vol. II. p. 326.
Page 125.
And that prized herb whose sovereign power
Preserves from dark misfortune’s hour.
“And yet more medicinal is it than that Moly,
That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave;
He called it Hæmony, and gave it me,
And bade me keep it as of sovereign use
‘Gainst all enchantment, mildew, blast, or damp,
Or ghastly furies’ apparition.” Comus.
The Moly of Homer, which Dierbach considers to have been the Mandrake, is probably a corruption of the Sanskrit Múla a root.
