{"collection":"Hinduism","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/hin/rama/ry096.htm","path":"hin/rama/ry096.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/hin/rama/ry096.htm","text":"With hopeless eye and pallid mien\n There sat the monarch with the queen.\n His father's feet with reverence due\n He clasped, and touched Kaikey?s too.\n The king, with eyes still brimming o'er,\n Cried 'R\u00e1ma!' and could do no more.\n \n \n \n His voice was choked, his eye was dim,\n He could not speak or look on him.\n Then sudden fear made R\u00e1ma shake\n As though his foot had roused a snake,\n Soon as his eyes had seen the change\n So mournful, terrible, and strange.\n For there his reason well-nigh fled,\n Sighing, with soul disquieted,\n \u00a0\u00a0 To torturing pangs a prey,\n Dismayed, despairing, and distraught,\n In a fierce whirl of wildering thought\n \u00a0\u00a0 The hapless monarch lay,\n Like Ocean wave-engarlanded\n Storm-driven from his tranquil bed,\n \u00a0\u00a0 The Sun-God in eclipse,\n Or like a holy seer, heart-stirred\n With anguish, when a lying word\n \u00a0\u00a0 Has passed his heedless lips.\n The sight of his dear father, pained\n With woe and misery unexplained\n \u00a0\u00a0 Filled R\u00e1ma with unrest,\n As Ocean's pulses rise and swell\n When the great moon he loves so well\n \u00a0\u00a0 Shines full upon his breast.\n So grieving for his father's sake,\n To his own heart the hero spake:\n 'Why will the king my sire to-day\n No kindly word of greeting say?\n At other times, though wroth he be,\n His eyes grow calm that look on me.\n Then why does anguish wring his brow\n To see his well-beloved now?'\n Sick and perplexed, distraught with woe,\n To Queen Kaikey\u00ed bowing low,\n While pallor o'er his bright cheek spread,\n With humble reverence he said:\n 'What have I done, unknown, amiss\n To make my father wroth like this?\n Declare it, O dear Queen, and win\n His pardon for my heedless sin.\n Why is the sire I ever find\n Filled with all love to-day unkind?\n With eyes cast down and pallid cheek\n This day alone he will not speak.\n Or lies he prostrate 'neath the blow\n Of fierce disease or sudden woe?\n For all our bliss is dashed with pain,\n And joy unmixt is hard to gain.\n Does stroke of evil fortune smite\n Dear Bharat, charming to the sight,\n Or on the brave S'atrughna fall,\n Or consorts, for he loves them all?\n Against his words when I rebel,\n Or fail to please the monarch well,\n When deeds of mine his soul offend,\n That hour I pray my life may end.\n How should a man to him who gave\n His being and his life behave?\n The sire to whom he owes his birth\n Should be his deity on earth.\n Hast thou, by pride and folly moved,\n \n \n With bitter taunt the king reproved?\n Has scorn of thine or cruel jest\n To passion stirred his gentle breast?\n Speak truly, Queen, that I may know\n What cause has changed the monarch so.'\n \n \n Thus by the high-souled prince addressed,\n Of Raghu's sons the chief and best,\n She cast all ruth and shame aside,\n And bold with greedy words replied:\n 'Not wrath, O R\u00e1ma, stirs the king,\n Nor misery stabs with sudden sting;\n One thought that fills his soul has he,\n But dares not speak for fear of thee.\n Thou art so dear, his lips refrain\n From words that might his darling pain.\n But thou, as duty bids, must still\n The promise of thy sire fulfil.\n He who to me in days gone by\n Vouchsafed a boon with honours high,\n Dares now, a king, his word regret,\n And caitiff-like disowns the debt.\n The lord of men his promise gave\n To grant the boon that I might crave,\n And now a bridge would idly throw\n When the dried stream has ceased to flow.\n His faith the monarch must not break\n In wrath, or e'en for thy dear sake.\n From faith, as well the righteous know,\n Our virtue and our merits flow.\n Now, be they good or be they ill,\n Do thou thy father's words fulfil:\n Swear that his promise shall not fail,\n And I will tell thee all the tale.\n Yes, R\u00e1ma, when I hear that thou\n Hast bound thee by thy father's vow,\n Then, not till then, my lips shall speak,\n Nor will he tell what boon I seek.'\n \n \n He heard, and with a troubled breast\n This answer to the queen addressed:\n 'Ah me, dear lady, canst thou deem\n That words like these thy lips beseem?\n I, at the bidding of my sire,\n Would cast my body to the fire,\n A deadly draught of poison drink,\n Or in the waves of ocean sink:\n If he command, it shall be done,--\n My father and my king in one.\n Then speak and let me know the thing\n So longed for by my lord the king.\n It shall be done: let this suffice;\n R\u00e1ma ne'er makes a promise twice.'\n \n \n He ended. To the princely youth\n Who loved the right and spoke the truth,\n Cruel, abominable came\n The answer of the ruthless dame:\n 'When Gods and Titans fought of yore,\n Transfixed with darts and bathed in gore\n Two boons to me thy father gave\n For the dear life 'twas mine to save.\n Of him I claim the ancient debt,\n That Bharat on the throne be set,\n And thou, O R\u00e1ma, go this day\n To Dandak forest far away.\n Now, R\u00e1ma, if thou wilt maintain\n Thy father's faith without a stain,\n And thine own truth and honour clear,\n Then, best of men, my bidding hear.\n Do thou thy father's word obey,\n Nor from the pledge he gave me stray.\n Thy life in Dandak forest spend\n Till nine long years and five shall end.\n Upon my Bharat's princely head\n Let consecrating drops be shed,\n With all the royal pomp for thee\n Made ready by the king's decree.\n Seek Dandak forest and resign\n Rites that would make the empire thine,\n For twice seven years of exile wear\n The coat of bark and matted hair.\n Then in thy stead let Bharat reign\n Lord of his royal sire's domain,\n Rich in the fairest gems that shine,\n Cars, elephants, and steeds, and kine.\n The monarch mourns thy altered fate\n And vails his brow compassionate:\n Bowed down by bitter grief he lies\n And dares not lift to thine his eyes.\n Obey his word: be firm and brave,\n And with great truth the monarch save.'\n \u00a0\u00a0 While thus with cruel words she spoke,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 No grief the noble youth betrayed;\n \u00a0\u00a0 But forth the father's anguish broke,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 At his dear R\u00e1ma's lot dismayed.\n \n \n \n \n113:1 The Sea.","title":"Book II: Canto XVIII.: The Sentence.","type":"page"}