{"collection":"Hinduism","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/hin/rama/ry066.htm","path":"hin/rama/ry066.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/hin/rama/ry066.htm","text":"With cloudless lustre rose the sun;\n The king, his morning worship done,\n Ordered hid heralds to invite\n The princes and the anchorite.\n With honour, as the laws decree,\n The monarch entertained the three.\n Then to the youths and saintly man\n Videha's lord this speech began:\n 'O blameless Saint, most welcome thou!\n If I may please thee tell me how.\n Speak, mighty lord, whom all revere,\n 'Tis thine to order, mine to hear.'\n \n \n Thus he on mighty thoughts intent;\n Then thus the sage most eloquent:\n 'King Das'aratha's sons, this pair\n Of warriors famous everywhere,\n Are come that best of bows to see\n That lies a treasure stored by thee.\n This, mighty Janak, deign to show,\n That they may look upon the bow,\n And then, contented, homeward go.'\n Then royal Janak spoke in turn:\n 'O best of Saints, the story learn\n Why this famed bow, a noble prize,\n A treasure in my palace lies.\n A monarch, Devar\u00e1t by name,\n Who sixth from ancient Nimi came,\n Held it as ruler of the land,\n A pledge in his successive hand.\n This bow the mighty Rudra bore\n \n \n At Daksha's\u00a01 sacrifice of yore,\n When carnage of the Immortals stained\n The rite that Daksha had ordained.\n Then as the Gods sore wounded fled,\n Victorious Rudra, mocking, said:\n 'Because, O Gods, ye gave me naught\n When I my rightful portion sought,\n Your dearest parts I will not spare,\n But with my bow your frames will tear.'\n \n \n The Sons of Heaven, in wild alarm,\n Soft flatteries tried his rage to charm.\n Then Bhava, Lord whom Gods adore,\n Grew kind and friendly as before,\n And every torn and mangled limb\n Was safe and sound restored by him.\n Thenceforth this bow, the gem of bows,\n That freed the God of Gods from foes,\n Stored by our great forefathers lay\n A treasure and a pride for aye.\n Once, as it chanced, I ploughed the ground,\n When sudden, 'neath the share was found\n An infant springing from the earth,\n Named Sit\u00e1 from her secret birth. \u00a02\n In strength and grace the maiden grew,\n My cherished daughter, fair to view.\n I vowed her, of no mortal birth,\n Meet prize for noblest hero's worth.\n In strength and grace the maiden grew,\n And many a monarch came to woo.\n To all the princely suitors I\n Gave, mighty Saint, the same reply:\n 'I give not thus my daughter, she\n Prize of heroic worth shall be. \u00a03\n To Mithil\u00e1 the suitors pressed\n Their power and might to manifest.\n To all who came with hearts aglow\n I offered S'iva's wondrous bow.\n \n \n \n Not one of all the royal band\n Could raise or take the bow in hand.\n The suitors' puny might I spurned,\n And back the feeble princes turned.\n Enraged thereat, the warriors met,\n With force combined my town beset.\n Stung to the heart with scorn and shame,\n With war and threats they madly came,\n Besieged my peaceful walls, and long\n To Mithil\u00e1 did grievous wrong.\n There, wasting all, a year they lay,\n And brought my treasures to decay,\n Filling my soul, O Hermit chief,\n With bitter woe and hopeless grief.\n At last by long-wrought penance I\n Won favour with the Gods on high,\n Who with my labours well content\n A four-fold host to aid me sent.\n Then swift the baffled heroes fled\n To all the winds discomfited--\n Wrong-doers, with their lords and host,\n And all their valour's idle boast.\n This heavenly bow, exceeding bright,\n These youths shall see, O Anchorite.\n Then if young R\u00e1ma's hand can string\n The bow that baffled lord and king,\n To him I give, as I have sworn,\n My Sit\u00e1, not of woman born.'\n \n \n \n \n \n78:1 'Daksha was one of the ancient Progenitors or Praj\u00e1patis created by Brahm\u00e1. The sacrifice which is here spoken of and in which S'ankar or S'iva (called also here Rudra and Bhava) smote the Gods because he had not been invited to share the sacred oblations with them, seems to refer to the origin of the worship of S'iva, to its increase and to the struggle it maintained with other older forms of worship.' GORRESIO.\n78:2 S\u00edt\u00e1 means a furrow.\n78:3 'The whole story of S\u00edt\u00e1, as will be seen in the course of the poem has a great analogy with the ancient myth of Proserpine.' GORRESIO.","title":"BOOK I: Canto LXVI.: Janak's Speech.","type":"page"}