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TRUBNER’8 ORIENTAL SERIES
“ A knowledge of the commonplace, at least, of Oriental literature, philo- sophy, and religion is as necessary to the general reader of the i>reseut day as an acquaintance with the Latin and Greek classics was a generation or so ago. Immense strides have been made within the present century in these branches of learning ; Sanskrit has been brought within the range of accurate philology, and its invaluable ancient literature thoroughly investigated ; the language and sacred books of the Zoroastrians have been laid bare ; Egyptian, Assyrian, and other records of the remote past have been deciphered, and a group of scholars speak of still more recondite Accadian and Hitiite monu- ments ; but the results of all the scholarship that has been devoted to these subjects have been almost inaccessible to the public because they were con- tained for the most part in learned or expensive works, or scattered through- out the numbers of scieutific periodicals. Messrs. Tkubnek & Co., in a spirit of enterprise which does them infinite credit, have determined to supply the constantly-increasing want, and to give in a popular, or, at least, a compre- hensive form, all this mass of knowledge to the world.” — Times.
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THE INDIAN EMPIRE : ITS HISTORY, PEOPLE, AND PRODUCTS.
Being a revised form of the article “India,” in the “Imperial Gazetteer,” remodelled into chapters, brought up to date, and incorporating the general results of the Census of 1881.
By W. MT. hunter, C.I.E., LL.D.,
Director-General of Statistics to the Government of India.
“The article ‘India,’ in Volume IV., is the touchstone of the work, and j^roves clearly enough the sterling metal of which it is wrought. It represents the essence of the 100 volumes which contain tbe results of the statistical survey conducted by Dr. Hunter throughout each of the 240 districts of India. It is, moreover, the onlv attempt that has ever been made to show how tlie Indian people have been built up, and the evidence from the original materials has been for the first time sifted ami examined by the light of the local research in which the author was for so long engaged.” — Times. °
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THE FOLLOWING WORKS HAVE ALREADY APPEARED
Second Edition, post 8vo, cloth, pp. xvi. — 428, price i6s.
ESSAYS ON THE SACRED LANGUAGE, WRITINGS, AND RELIGION OF THE PARSIS.
By martin HAUG, Ph.D.,
Ente of the Universities of Tubingen, Gottingen, and Bonn ; Superintendent of Sanskrit Studies, and Professor of Sanskrit in the Poona College.
Edited by Dr. E. W. WEST.
I. History of the Researches into the Sacred Writings and Religion of the Parsis, from the Earliest Times down to the Present.
I r. Languages of the Parsi Scriptures.
HI. The Zend-Avesta, or the Scripture of the Parsis.
1 V. The Zoroastrian Religion, as to its Origin and Development.
“ ‘ Essays on the Sacred Language, Writings, and Religion of the Parsis,’ by the late Dr. Martin Haug, edited by Dr. E. W. West. The autlior intended, on his return from India, to expand the materials contained in this work into a comprehensive account of the Zoroastrian religion, but the design was frustrated by his untimely death.* We have, however, in a concise and readable form, a history of the researches into the sacred writings and religion of the Parsis from the earliest times down to the present — a dissertation on the languages of the Parsi Scriptures, a translation of the Zend-Avesta, or the Scripture of the Parsis, and a dissertation on the Zoroas- trian religion, with especial reference to its origin and development.” — Titnes.
Post 8vo, cloth, pp. viii. — 176, price 7s. 6d.
TEXTS FROM THE BUDDHIST CANON
COMMONLY KNOWN AS “ DHAMMAPADA.”
Willi Accompanying Narratives.
Translated from the Chinese by S. BEAL, B. A., Professor of Chinese, University College, London.
The Dhammapada, as hitherto known by the Pali Text Edition, as edited by Fausboll, by Max Muller’s English, and Albrecht Weber’s German translations, consists only of tw'enty-six chapters or sections, whilst the Chinese version, or rather recension, as now translated by Mr. Beal, con- sists of thirty-nine sections. The students of Pali who possess Fausboll's text, or either of the above-named translations, will therefore needs want hir. Beal’s English rendering of the Chinese version ; the thirteen above- named additional sections not being accessible to them in any other form ; for, even if they understand Chinese, the Chinese original would be un- obtainable by them.
“ Mr. Beal’s rendering of the Chinese translation is a most valuable aid to the critical study of the work. It confciins authentic texts gatliered from ancient canonical books, and generally connected with some incident in the iiistory of Buddha. Their groat interest, however, consists in the light which they throw ujxm everyday life in India at the remote i)criod at which they were written, and upon the method of teaching adopted by the founder of the religion. The method employed was principally parable, ami the simplicity of the tales and the excellence of the morals inculcate<i, as well as the strange hold which they have retained uixm the minds of millions of peoi>le, make them a voi-y remarkable study.” — Times.
“ Mr. Beal, by making it accossiblo in an English dress, has added to the great ser- vices he has already rendered to the comparative study of religious history.” — Academy.
" Valuable as e.xliibiting the doctrine of the Buddhists in its purest, least adul- terated form, it brings themodern reader face to face with that simple,crcod and rule of conduct which won its way over the minds of myriads, and which is now nominally professed by 145 millions, who have overlaid its austere simplicity with innumerable ceremonies, forgotten its m.axims, perverted its teaching, and so inverted its leading principle that a religion whose founder denied a God, now worships that founder as a god himself.” — Scotsman.
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Second Edition, post 8vo, cloth, jip. xxiv.— 360, price los. 6d.
THE HISTORY OF INDIAN LITERATURE.
By ALBRECHT WEBER.
Translated from the Second German Edition by John Mann, M..\., and Th^odou Zachauiak, Ph.U., with the sanction of the Author.
Dr. Bi'HLEB, Inspector of Schools in India, writes: — “When I was Pro- fes.sor of Oriental Languages in Elphinstone College, I frequently felt the want of such a work to which I could refer the students."
Professor CowEf.L, of Cambridge, writes : — “It will be especially useful to the students in our Indian colleges and universities. I used to long for such a book when I was teaching in Calcutta. Hindu students are intensely interested in the history of Sanskrit literature, and this volume will supply them with all they want on the subject.”
Professor Whitney, Yide College, Newhaven, Conn., U.S.A., writes;— “ I was one of the class to whom the work was onginally given in the form of academic lectures. At their first appearance they were by far the most le.arned and able treatment of their subject ; and with their recent additions they still maintaiu decidedly the same rank.”
“ Is perliaps tlio most comprehensive and lucid survey of S.anskrit literature extant. The essays contained in the volume were originally delivered as academic lectures, and at the time of their first publication were acknowledged to be by far the most learned and al>lo treatment of the subject. They have now been brought up to date by the addition of all the most imporbmt results of recent research." — Times.
Post 8vo, cloth, pp. xii. — 198, accompanied by Two Language Maps, price 12s.
A SKETCH OF
THE MODERN LANGUAGES OF THE EAST INDIES.
By ROBERT N. CUST.
The Author has attempted to fill up a vacuum, the inconvenience of which pressed itself on his notice. Much had been written about the languages of the East Indies, but the extent of our present knowledge had not even been brought to a focus. It occurred to him that it might be of use to others to publish in an arranged form the notes which he had collected for his own edification.
“ Supplies a deficiency which has long been felt.” — Times.
“ The book before us is then a valuable contribution to philologic.al science. It passes under review a vast number of l.anguages, and it gives, or professes to give, in every case the sum and substance of the opinions and judgments of the best-ii5onned writers." — Saturday Review.
Second Corrected Edition, post 8vo, pp. xii. — 116, cloth, price 5s.
THE BIRTH OF THE WAR-GOD.
A Poem. By KALIDASA.
Translated from the Sanskrit into English Verse by Ralph T. H. Gkiffith, M.A.
“ A very spirited rendering of the Kumdrasambhara, which was first published twenty-six years ago, and which we are glad to see made once more accessible." — Times.
“ Mr. Griffith’s very spirited rendering is well known to most who are at all interested in Indian literature, or enjoy the tenderness of feeling and rich creative imagination of its author.” — Indian Antiquary.
“ We are very glad to welcome a second edition of Professor Griffith’s admirable translation. Few translations deserve a second edition better.” — Athenaum.
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Post 8 VO, pp. 432, cloth, price 16s.
A CLASSICAL DICTIONARY OF HINDU MYTHOLOGY AND RELIGION, GEOGRAPHY, HISTORY, AND LITERATURE.
By JOHN DOWSON, M.R.A.S.,
Late Professor of Hindustani, Staff College.
“ This not only forms an indisixsnsable book of reference to students of Indmu literature, but is also of great general interest, as it gives in a concise and easily accessible form all that need be known about the personages of Hindu mythology whose names are so familiar, but of whom so little is known outside the limited circie of aavanU.” — Times.
“.It is no slight gain when such subjects are treated fairly and fully in a moderate space ; and we need only add that the few wants which we may hope to see supplied in new editions detract but little from the general excellence of Mr. Dowson's work.” — Saturday Review.
Post 8vo, with View of Mecca, pp. cxii. — 172, cloth, price 93.
SELECTIONS FROM THE KORAN.
By EDWARD AVILLIAM LANE,
Translator of “ The Thousand and One Nights ; ” &c., &c.
A New Edition, Revised and Enlarged, with an Introduction by Stanley Lane Poole.
•■ . . . Has been long esteemed in this country as the compilation of one of the greatest Arabic scholars of the time, the late Mr. Lane, the well-known translator of the ‘Arabian Nights.’ . . . The present editor has enhanced the value of his relative’s work by divesting the text of a great deal of extraneous matter introduced by way of comment, and prefixing an introduction.” — J’imes.
“Mr. Poole is both a generous and a learned biographer. . . . Mr. Poole tells us the facta ... so far as it is possible for industry and criticism to ascertain them, and for literary skill to jjreseut them in a condensed and readable larm.''— English- man, Calcutta.
Post 8vo, pp. vi. — 368, cloth, price 14s.
MODERN INDIA AND THE INDIANS,
BEING A SERIES OF IMPRESSIONS, NOTES, AND ESSAYS.
By MONIER williams, D.C.L.,
Hon. LL.D. of the University of Calcutta, Hon. Member of the Bombay Asiatic Society, Boden Professor of Sanskrit in the University of Oxfoi-d.
Third Edition, revised and augmented by considerable Additions, with Illustrations and a Map.
“ In this volume we have the thoughtful impressions of a thoughtful man on some of the most important questions connected with our Indian Eminre. . . . .\n en- lightened ohservanc man. travelling among an enlightened observant people. Professor Monier Williams has brought before the public. in a pleasant form more of the manners and customs of tho Queen’s Indian subjects than we ever- remember to have seen in any one work. Ho not only deserves the thanks of every Englishman for this able contribution to the study of Modern India— a subject with which we should be specially fandliar — but ho deserves the thanks of every Indian, Pai-sce or Hindu, Ihiddhist and Moslem, for his clear exposition of their manners, their creeds, and their necessities.” — 2’imes.
Post 8vo, ]ip. xliv. — 376. cloth, price 14s.
METRICAL TRANSLATIONS FROM SANSKRIT WRITERS.
With an Introduction, many I’rose Versions, and Parallel Passages from Classical Authors.
By J. MUIR, C.I.E., D.C.L., LL.D., Ph.D.
“. . . An ngrceablc introduction to Hindu poetry.” — Times.
"... A volume which may ho taken as a fair lllustr.ition alike of tho religiouf and moral soutiments and of tho legendary loro of tho best Sanskrit writers.'’— Edinburgh Daily Review.
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Secoud Editiou, ixjst 8vo, pp. xxvL — 244, cloth, price los. 6d.
THE GULISTAN;
Or, rose GARDEX OF SIIEKH MUSHLIU’D-DIN SADI OF SHIRAZ.
Translated for the First Time into Prose and Verse, with an Introductory Preface, and a Life of the Author, from the Atish Kadah,
By EDWARD B. EASTWICK, C.B., M.A., F.R.S., M.R.A.S.
“ It la a very fair rendering of the original." — Times.
“ The new edition hi\a long been de.sired, and will l>o welcomed by all who take any interest in Oriental poetry. The Galistan is a typical Persian verse-book of the highest order. Mr. Eastwick's rhymed translation . . . lias long establislied itself in a secure position as tlie best version of Sadi's hiiest work.” — Academy.
“ It is both faithfully and gr.icefully executed."— To
In Two Volumes, post 8vo, pp. viii. — 408 and viii. — 348, cloth, price 28s.
MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS RELATING TO INDIAN SUBJECTS.
By BRIAN HOUGHTON HODGSON, Esq., F.li.S.,
Late of the Bengal Civil Service ; Corresponding Member of the Institute : Chevalier of the Legiou of Uonour; latu British Minister at tne Court of Nepal, tx., &c.
CONTENTS OE VOL. I.
Section I. — On the Kocch, B6d6, and Dhimdi Tribes. — Part I. Vocabulary. — Part II. Grammar. — Part 111. Their Origin, Location, Numbers. Creed, Customs, Character, and Condition, with a General Description of the Climate they dwell in. — .\ppendix.
Section II. — On Himalayan Ethnology — I. Comparative Vocabulary of the Lan- guages of the Broken Tribes of N^pal. — II. Vocabulary of the Dialects of the Kiranti Language. — III. Grammatical Analysis of the VAyu Language. The Vdyn Grammar. — IV. Analysis of the Balling Dialect of the Kinmti Language. The Bihing Gram- mar.— V. On the Vayu or Hayu Tribe of the Central Himalaya. — ^■I. On tne Kiranti Tribe of the Central Himaldya.
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
Section III. — On the .Aborigines of North-Eastern India. Comparative Vocabulary of the Tibetan, B6d6, imd Garb Tongues.
Section IV. — Aborigines of the North-Eastern Frontier.
Section V. — Aborigines of the Eastern Frontier.
Section VI. — The Indo-Chinese Borderers, and their connection with the Hima- layans and Tibetans. Comparative Vocabulary of Indo-Chine.se Borderers in Arakan. Comparative Vocabulary of Indo-Chinese Borderers in Tenasserim.
Section VII. — The Mongolian Affinities of the Caucasians.— Comparison and Ana- lysis of Caucasian and Mongolian Words.
Section VIII. — Physical Type of Tibetans.
Section IX. — The Aborigines of Central India. — Comparative Vocabulary of the Aborimnal Languages of Central India. — Aborigines of the Eastern Ghats. — Vocabu- lary of some of the Dialects of the Hill ;md Wandering Th-ibes in the Northern Sircars. — Aborigines of the Nilglris, with Remarks on their Affinities. — Supplement to the Nilgirian Vocabularies. — The Aborigines of Southern India and Ceylon.
Section X. — Route of Nepalese Mission to Pekin, with Remarks on the Water- shed and Plateau of Tibet.
Section XI. — Route from Kithmdndii, the Capital of NepAl, to Darjeeling in Sikim. — Memorandum relative to the Seven Cosis of NepAl.
Section XII. — Some Accounts of the Systems of Law and Police as recognised in the State of Nepal.
Section XIII. — The Native Method of making the Paper denominated Hindustan, NApalese.
Section XIV. — Pre-eminence of the Vernaculars; or, the Anglicists Answered: Being Letters on the Education of the People of India.
“ For the study of the less-known races of India Mr. Brian Hodgson’s 'Miscellane- ous Essays ' will be found very valuable both to the philologist and the ethnologist.” — Tima.
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Third Edition, Two Vols., post 8vo, pp. viii. — 268 and viii. — 326, cloth, price 21s.
THE LIFE OR LEGEND OF GAUDAMA,
THE BUDDHA OF THE BURMESE. With Annotations.
Tlie Ways to Neibban, and Notice on the Phongyies or Burmese Monks.
By the Right Rev. P. BIGANDET,
Bishop of Ramatha, Vicar- Apostolic of Ava and Pegu.
“The work is furnished with copious notes, which not only illustrate the subject- matter, but form a perfect encyclopedia of Buddhist lore.” — Times.
“A work which will furnish European students of Buddhism with a most valuable help in the prosecution of their Investigations.” — Edinburgh Daily Review.
“ Bishop Bigandet’s invaluable work.” — Indian Antiquary.
“ Viewed in this light, its importance is sufficient to place students of the subject under a deep obligation to its author.” — Calcutta Reviev>.
“This work is one of the greatest authorities upon Buddhism.” — Dublin Review.
Post 8vo, pp. xxiv. — 420, cloth, price i8s.
CHINESE BUDDHISM.
A VOLUME OF SKETCHES, HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL.
By J. EDKINS, D.D.
Author of “ China’s Place in Philology,” “ Religion in China,” &c., Ac.
“It contains a vast deal of important information on the subject, such as is only to be gained by long-continued study on the spot. " — A thenceum.
“ Upon the whole, we know of no work comparable to it for the extent of its original research, and the simplicity with which this complicated system of philo- sophy, religion, literature, and ritual is set forth.” — British Quarterly Review.
“ The whole volume is replete with learning. ... It deserves most careful study from all interested in the history of the religions of the world, and expressly of those who are concerned in the prop.agation of Christianity. Dr. Edkins notices in terms of just condemnation the exaggerated praise bestowed upon Buddhism by recent English writer's. ” — Record.
Post 8vo, pp. 496, cloth, price i8s.
LINGUISTIC AND ORIENTAL ESSAYS.
Written from the Year 1846 to 1878.
By ROBERT NEEDHAM CUST,
Late Member of Her Majesty’s Indian Civil Service ; Hon. Secretary to the Royal Asiatic Society ;
and Author of “ The Modern Languages of the East Indies.”
“ Wo know none who has described Indian life, especially the life of the natives, with so much learning, sympathy, and literary talent.’' — Academy.
“ They seem to us to be full of suggestive and original remarks.”— Sf. James's Oasette.
“ His book contains a vast amount of information. The result of thirty-five years of inquiry, reflection, and speculation, and that on subjects as full of fascination as of food for thought.” — Tablet. ,
“ Exliibit such a thorough acquaintance with the history and antiquities of India as to entitle him to speak ns one having authority.”— JdtnlutrpA Daily Review.
“ The author speaks with the authority of personal experience It Is this
constant assoolatlon with the country and tho pcoiflo which gives such a vividness to many of the pages.” — Alhtneeum.
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Post 8vo, pp. civ.— 348, cloth, price i8s.
BUDDHIST BIRTH STORIES; or, Jataka Tales.
The Oldest Collection of Folk-lore Extant :
BEING THE J AT AK .VTTH A V ANN AN A,
For the first time Edited in the original Pali.
By V. FAUSBOLL ;
And Translated by T. W. Khys Davids.
Translation. Volume I.
“ These are tales supposed to have been told by the Buddha of what he liad seen and heard in his previous births. They ore probably the nearest representatives of the original Aryan stories from which sprang the folk-lore of Europe as well as India. The introduction contains a most interesting disquisition on the migrations of these fables, tracing their reiipiicarance in the various groiqis of folk-lore legends. Among other old friends, we meet with a version of tlie Judgment of Solomon." — Hints.
“ It is now some years since Sir. Rhys Davids asserted his right to be heard on this subject by his able article on Buddhism in the new edition of the ‘ Eucyclopffidia Biitaunica.”’ — Leeds Mercury.
“ All who are interested in Buddhist literature ought to feel deeply indebted to Mr. Rhys Darids. His well-established reputation as a Pali scholar is a sufficient guarantee for the fidelity of his version, and the stylo of his translations is deserving of high praise." — Academy.
No more competent expositor of Buddhism could be found than Mr. Rhys Davids. In the Jataka book we have, then, a priceless record of the earliest imaginative literature of our race ; and ... it presents to us a nearly complete picture of the social life and customs and popular beliefs of the common people of Aryan tribes, closely related to ourselves, just as they were passing through the first stages of civilisation.” — SI. James's Oazette.
Post 8vo, pp. xxviiL — 362, cloth, price 14s.
A TALMUDIC MISCELLANY;
Ok, a thousand AND ONE EXTKACTS FROM THE TALMUD, THE MIDRASHIM, AND THE KABBALAH.
Compiled and Translated by PAUL ISAAC HERSHON,
Author of “ Genesis According to the Talmud,” &c.
With Notes and Copious Indexes.
“ To obtain in so concise and h.andy a form as this volume a general idea of the Talmud is a boon to Christians at legist.” — Times.
“ Its peculi.ar and popular character will make it attractive to general readers. Mr. Hershon is a very competent scholar. . . . Contains samples of the good, bad, and indifferent, and especially extracts that throw light upon the Scriptures." — British Quarterly Revieic.
“ Will convey to English readers a more complete and truthful notion of the Talmud than any other work that has yet appeared." — Daily News.
“ Without overlooking in the slightest the several attractions of the previous volumes of the ‘ Oriental Series.’ we htive no hesitation in saying that this surpasses them aU in interest." — Edinburgh Daily Beview.
Mr. Hershon has . . . thus given English readers what is, we believe, a fair set of specimens which they can test for themselves." — The Record.
“ This book is by far the best fitted in the present state of knowledge to enable the general reader to gain a fair and unbiassed conception of the multifarious contents of the wonderful miscellany which can only be truly understood — so Jewish pride ;isserts — by the life-long devotion of scholars of the Chosen People.” — Inquirer.
“ The value and importance of this volume consist in the fact that scarcely a single extract is given in its pages but throws some light, direct or refracted, upon those Scriptures which are the common heritage of Jew and Christian alike.” — John Bull.
“ It is a capital specimen of Hebrew scholarship ; a monument of learned, loving, light-giving lalxiur." — Jewish Herald.
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Post 8vo, ]ip. xii. — 228, cloth, price 7s. 6d.
THE CLASSICAL POETRY OF THE JAPANESE.
By basil hall chamberlain,
Author of “ Yeigo Heiikaku Shiran."
" A very curious volume. The author has manifestly devoted much labour to the task of studying the poetical literature of the Japanese, and rendering characteristic specimens into English verse.” — Daily News.
“ Mr. Chamberlain’s volume is, so far as we are aware, the first attempt which has been made to interpret the literature of the Japanese to the Western world. It is to the classical poetry of Old Japan that we must turn for indigenous Japanese thought, and in the volume before us we have a selection from that poetry rendered into graceful English verse.” — Tablet.
“ It is undoubtedly one of the best translations of lyric literature which h.as appeared during the close of the last year.” — Celestial Empire.
“Mr. Chamberlain set himself a difficult task when he \mdertook to reproduce Japanese poetiy in an English form. But he has evidently laboured con amore, and his efforts are successful to a degree.” — London and China Express.
Post 8vo, pp. xii. — 164, cloth, price los. 6d.
THE HISTORY OF ESARHADDON (Son of Sennacherib),
KING OF ASSYRIA. B.c. 681-C68.
Translated from the Cuneiform Inscriptions upon Cylinders and Tablets in the British Museum Collection ; together with a Grammatical Analysis of each AYord, Explanations of the Ideographs by Extracts from the Bi-Lingual Syllabaries, and List of Eponyms, &c.
By ERNEST A. BUDGE, B.A., M.R.A.S.,
Assyrian Exhibitioner, Christ’s College, Cambridge.
“Students of scriptural archaeology will also appreciate the ‘History of Esar- haddon.’ ” — Times.
“ There is much to attract the scholar in this volume. It does not pretend to popularise studies which are yet in their infancy. Its primary object is to translate, but it does not assume to be more tlian tentative, and it offers both to the professed Assyriologist and to the ordinary non-Assyriological Semitic scholar the means of controlling its results."— .Academy.
“Mr. Budge’s book is, of course, mainly addressed to Assyrian scholars and students. They are not, it is to be feared, a very numerous class. But the more thanks are due to him on that account for the way in which he has acquitted himself in his laborious task.” — Tablet.
Post 8vo, pp. 448, cloth, price 21s.
THE MESNEVI
(Usually known as The Mesneviyi Sherif, or Holy Mesnevi)
OF
MEYLANA (OUR LORD) JELALU ’D-DIN MUHAMMED ER-RUMI. Book the First.
Together with name Aecount of the Life and Acts of the Author, of his Ancestors, and of his Descendants.
Illustrated by a Selection of Cliaracteristic Anecdotes, as Collected by their Historian,
Mevlana Shemsu-’D-Din Ahmed, el Eflaki, el ‘Arifi. Translated, and the Poetry Versified, in English,
By JAMES W. RED HO USE, M. R. A. S., &c.'
“ A complete treasury of occult Oriental lore.” — Saturday Eeriew.
“This book will be a very valu.ablo help to the reader ignorant of Persia, who is desirous of obtaining an insight into a very important department of the literature extant in that language.'— TuMcf.
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Post 8 VO, pp. xvi.— 280, cloth, price 6s.
EASTERN PROVERBS AND EMBLEMS
Illustrating Old Truths.
By Rev. J. LONG,
Member of the Bengal Asiatic Society, F.R.G.S.
“ Wo regard tho book as valuable, and wish for it a wide circulation and attentive rcjiding." — Record.
“ Altogether, it is quite a feast of good things."— Cfo4«.
“ It is full of interesting matter." — Antiquary.
Post 8vo, pp. viii. — 270, cloth, price 7s. 6d.
INDIAN POETRY;
Containing a New Edition of the “ Indian Song of Songs,” from the Sanscrit of the “Gita Govinda" of Jayadeva ; Two Books from “The Iliad of India’’ (Mahabharata), “Proverbial Wisdom ” from the Shlokas of the Hitopade.sa, and other Oriental Poems.
Br EDWIN ARNOLD, C.S.I., Author of “The Light of Asia.”
“ In this new volume of Messrs. Trllbner's Oriental Scries, Jlr. Edwin Arnold docs good service by illustrating, through the medium of his musical English melodics, the power of Indian poetry to stir European emotions. The ‘ Indhin Song of Songs ’ is not unknown to scholars. Mr. Arnold will have introduced it among popmar English poems. Nothing could be more graceful and delicate than the shades by which Krishna is portrayed in the gradual process of being weaned by the love of ‘ Beautiful Radha, j.asmine-bosomed Kadha,’ from the allurements of the forest nymphs, in whom the five senses are typified." — Timet.
“ No other English poet has ever thrown his genius and bis art so thoroughly into the work of translating Eastern ideas as Mr. Arnold has done in his splendid para- phrases of language contained in these mighty epics." —Daily Telegraph.
“ The poem abounds with imagery of Eastern luxuriousness and sensuousntss ; the air seems laden with the spicy odours of the tropics, and the verse h,as a richness and a melody sufficient to captivate the senses of the dullest." — Standard.
“ Iffie translator, while producing a very enjoyable poem, has adhered with toler- able fidelity to the original tcTt-t."— Overland Mail.
“We certainly wish Mr. Arnold success in his attempt ‘to popularise Indian classics,' that being, as his preface tells us, the goal towards which he bends his efforts." — Allen's Indian Mail.
Post 8vo, pp. xvi. — 296, cloth, price los. 6d.
THE MIND OF MENCIUS ;
Or, political ECONOMY FOUNDED UPON MORAL PHILOSOPHY.
A Systematic Digest of the Doctrines of the Chinese Philosopher Mencius.
Translated from the Original Text and Classified, with Comments and Explanations,
By the Rev. ERNST FABER, Rhenish Mission Society.
Translated from the German, with Additional Notes,
By the Rev. A. B. HUTCHINSON, C.M.S., Church Mission, Hong Kong.
“ Mr. Faber is already weU known in the field of Chinese studies by his digest of the doctrines of Confucius. The value of this work will be perceived when it is remembered that at no time since relations commenced between China and the West has the former been so powerful — we had almost said aggressive — as now. For those who will give it careful study, Mr. Faber’s work is one of the most valuable of the excellent series to which it belongs.” — Nature.
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Post 8vo, pp. 336, clotb, price i6s.
THE RELIGIONS OF INDIA.
By a. BARTH.
Translated from the French -with the authority and assistance of the Author.
The author has, at the request of the publishers, considerably enlarged the work for the translator, and has added tlie literature of the subject to date ; the translation may, therefore, be looked upon as an equivalent of a new and imiiroved edition of the original.
“ Is not only a valuable manual of the religions of India, which marks a distinct step in the treatment of the subject, but also a useful work of reference.” — Academy.
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THE QUATRAINS OF OMAR KHAYYAM.
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LINGUISTIC ESSAYS.
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Language as the Expression of National Modes of Thought.
The Conception of Love in some Ancient and Modern Langu.ages.
The English Verbs of Command. Semariology.
Philological Methods.
The Origin
The Connection between Dictionary and Grammar.
The Possibility of a Common Literary Langu.age for all Slavs.
The Order and Position of Words in the Latin Sentence.
The Coptic Ijanguage. f Language.
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THE SARVA - DARSANA - SAMGRAHA ;
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UDANAVARGA.
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PAU.ANTYNK, HANSON ANI> CO. &01Nj}UKGH AN1> LONDON
INDIAN POETRY.
CONTAINING
"THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS," FROM THE SANSKRIT OF THE GITA GOVINDA OF JAYADEVA ;
TWO BOOKS FROM "THE ILIAD OF INDIA " (MAHABHARATA); "PROVERBIAL WISDOM" FROM THE SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA, AND OTHER ORIENTAL POEMS.
EDWIN ''a R N O L D, M. A.
A uthor of '• The Light of Asia ; "
COMPANION OF THE STAR OF INDIA ;
OFFICER OF THE WHITE ELEPHANT OF SIAM ;
THIRD CLASS OF THE IMPERIAL ORDER OF THE MEDJIDIE ;
FELLOW OF THE ROVAL ASIATIC AND ROVAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETIES ; HO.NORARY MEMBER OF THE SOCIETY DE GROGRAFHIE, MARSEILLES, ETC. ETC. FORMERLY PRINCIPAL OF THE DECCAN COLLF.GE, POONA,
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[AH rights reserved. ]
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CONTENTS
FACE
Thk Indian Song of Songs —
Introduction >
Hymn to Vishnu 3
Sarga the First — The Sports of Krislina .... 9
Sarga the Second — The Penitence of Krishna ... 22
Sarga the Third — Krishna troubled 31
Sarga the Fourth — Krishna cheered 37
Sarga the Fifth — The Longings of Krishna .... 44
Sarga the Sixth — Krishna made bolder .... 54
Sarga the Seventh — Krishna supposed false .... 59
Sarga the Eighth — The Rebuking of Krishna ... 75
Sarga the Ninth — The End of Krishna’s Trial ... 79
Sarga the Tenth — ^Krishna in Paradise . ... 83
Sarga the Eleventh — The Union of Radha and Krishna . 88
Miscellaneous Oriental Poems —
The Rajpoot Wife loi
King Saladin 113
The Caliph’s Draught 132
Hindoo Funeral Song 137
Song of the Serpent Charmers 138
Song of the Flour- MUl 140
Taza ba Taza 142
viii CONTENTS.
PAOE
The Mussulman Paradise 146
Dedication of a Poem from the Sanskrit . . , .150
The Rajah’s Ride 15 1
Two Books FROM THE “ Iliad 01! India” — .... 159
The Great Journey 172
The Entry into Heaven 192
The Night OP Slaughter 210
The Morning Prayer 216
Proverihal Wisdom FROM THE Shlokas OF THE HitopadI'iSa . 221
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
INTRODUCTION.
OM!
REVERENCE TO GAXESIIA !
“ The sky is clouded ; and the wood resembles
V
The sky, thick-arched with black Tamala boughs \ 0 Eadha, Eadha ! take this Soul, that trembles In life’s deep midnight, to Thy golden house.”
So Nanda spoke, — and, led by Eadha’s spirit,
The feet of Krishna found the road aright ; AVherefore, in bliss which all high hearts inherit, Together taste they Love’s divine delight.
He who wrote these things for thee,
Of the Son of Wassoodee,
k
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Was the poet Jayadeva ;
Sim Saraswati gam ever Fancies fair his mind to throng. Like pictures palace-walls along ; Ever to his notes of love Zakshmi’s mystic dancers move.
If thy spirit seeks to brood On Sari glorious, Sari good ;
If it feeds on solemn numbers,
Dim as dreams and soft as slumbers, Lend thine ear to Jayadev,
Lord of all the spells that save. Smapatidhara' s strain Glows like roses after rain ;
Sharan’s stream-like song is grand. If its tide ye understand ;
Bard more wise beneath the sun Is not found than Govardhun ; Dhoyi holds the listener still With his shlokes of subtle skill ;
But foi' sweet ivords suited well Jayeulcva doth excel.
I
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
3
{llluit follows is to tlic Music Malava and the Mode Kupaka.)
HYMN TO VISHNU.
0 thou that held’st the blessed Veda dry
When all things else beneath the floods were hurled ; Strong Fish-God ! Ark of Men ! Jai ! Ilari, jai !
Hail, Keshav, hail ! thou Master of the world !
The round world rested on thy spacious nape ;
Upon thy neck, like a mere mole, it stood :
O thou that took’st for us the Tortoise-shape,
Hail, Keshav, hail ! Euler of wave and wood !
The world upon thy curving tusk sate sure,
Like the Moon’s dark disc in her crescent pale ;
0 thou who didst for us assume the Boar,
Immortal Conqueror ! hail, Keshav, hail !
When thou thy Giant-Foe didst seize and rend,
Fierce, fearful, long, and sharp were fang and nail ; Thou who the Lion and the l\Ian didst blend.
Lord of the Universe ! hail, Narsingh, had !
4
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Wonderful Dwarf ! — who with a threefold stride Cheated King Bali — where thy footsteps fall
Lien’s sins, 0 Wamuna ! are set aside :
0 Keshav, hail ! thou Help and Hope of all !
The sins of this sad earth thou didst assoil,
The anguish of its creatures thou didst heal ;
Freed are we from all terrors by thy toil :
Hail, Purshuram, hail ! Lord of the biting steel !
To thee the fell Ten-Headed yielded life.
Thou in dread battle laid’st the monster low !
Ah, Kama ! dear to Gods and men that strife ;
We praise thee. Master of the matchless bow !
With clouds for garments glorious thou dost fare. Veiling thy dazzling majesty and might.
As when Yamuna saw thee with the share,
A peasant — ^}’et the King of Day and Kight.
Llerciful-hearted ! when thou earnest as Boodb — Albeit ’twas written in the Scriptures so —
Thou bad’st onr altars be no more imbrued
With blood of victims : Keshav ! bending low —
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
5
We praise thee, Wielder of the sweeping sword, Brilliant as curving comets in the gloom.
Whose edge shall smite the fierce barbarian horde ; Hail to thee, Keshav 1 hail, and hear, and come.
And fill this song of Jayadev with thee.
And make it wise to teach, strong to redeem.
And sweet to living souls. Thou Mystery !
Thou Light of Life ! Thou Dawn beyond the dream !
Fish ! that didst outswim the flood ; Tortoise ! whereon earth hath stood ; Boar ! who with thy tush held’st high The world, that mortals might not die ; Lion ! who hast giants torn ;
Dwarf ! who laugh’dst a king to scorn ; Sole Subduer of the Dreaded !
Slayer of the many -headed !
Mighty Ploughman ! Teacher tender ! Of thine own the sure Defender ! Lnder all thy ten disguises Endless praise to thee arises.
6
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
( }Vhat follovjs is to the Music GuEJJARi and the Mode Nihsara.)
Endless praise arises,
0 thou God that liest Rapt, on Kumla’s breast.
Happiest, holiest, highest !
Planets are thy jewels.
Stars thy forehead-gems.
Set like sapphires gleaming In kingliest anadems ;
Even the great gold Sun-God,
Blazing through the sky.
Serves thee but for crest-stone,
Jai, jai ! Hari, jai !
As that Lord of day After night brings morrow.
Thou dost charm away Life’s long dream of sorrow.
As on Mansa’s water P.rood the swans at rest.
So thy laws sit stately On a holy breast.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
7
O, Drinker of the poison !
Ah, hi"h Delicrht of earth !
"What light is to the lotus-buds,
"Wliat singing is to mirth,
Art tliou — art thou that slayedst Madhou and Narak grim ; .
That ridest on the King of Birds, ]\Iaking all glories dim.
"With eyes like open lotus-flowers, Bright in the morning rain.
Freeing by one swift piteous glance The spirit from Life’s pain :
Of aU the three Worlds Treasure !
Of sin the Putter-by !
O’er the Ten-Headed Victor !
Jai Hari ! Hari ! jai !
Thou Shaker of the Mountain !
Thou Shadow of the Storm !
Thou Cloud that unto Lakshmi’s face Comes welcome, white, and warm !
O thou, — who to great Lakshmi Art like the silvery beam Which moon-sick chakors feed upon
s
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
By Jumna’s silent stream, —
To thee this hymn ascendeth,
That Jayadev doth sing,
Of worship, love, and mystery ;
High Lord and heavenly King !
And unto whoso hears it Do thou a blessing bring —
Whose neck is gilt with yellow dust From lilies that did cling Beneath the breasts of Lakshmi,
A girdle soft and sweet.
When in divine embracing The lips of Gods did meet ;
And the beating heart above Of thee — Dread Lord of Heaven ! — She left that stamp of love —
By such deep sign be given Brays Jayadev, the glory And the secret and the spells Which close-hid in this story Unto wise ears he tells.
END OF INTRODUCTION.
( 9 )
SARGA THE FIRST
S A ]\I 0 D A D A M 0 D A R O.
THE SPORTS OF KRISHNA.
Heautiful Eadha, jasmine-bosomed Eadha,
All in the Spring-time waited by the wood For Krishna fair, Krishna the all-forgetful, — Krishna with earthly love’s false fire consuming — And some one of her maidens sang this song : —
o o
( What follows is to the M^lsic Vasanta and the Mode Yati.)
I know wEere Krishna tarries in these early days of Spring,
When every wind from warm Malay brings fragrance on its wing ;
lO
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Brings fragrance stolen far away from thickets of the clove,
In jungles where the bees hum and the Koil flutes her love;
He dances with the dancers, of a merry morrice one,
All in the budding Spring-time, for ’tis sad to be alone.
I know how Krishna passes these hours of blue and gold.
When parted lovers sigh to meet and greet and closely hold
Hand fast in hand ; and every branch upon the V akul- tree
Droops downward with a hundred blooms, in every bloom a bee ;
He is dancing with the dancers to a laughter-moving tone.
In the soft awakening Spring-time, when ’tis hard to live alone.
Where Kroona-flowers, that open at a lover’s lightest tread.
Break, and, for shame at what they hear, from white blush modest red ;
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS. ir
And all the spears on all the boughs of all the Ketuk- glades
Seem ready darts to pierce the hearts of wandering youths and maids ;
’Tis there thy Krishna dances till the merry drum is done,
All in the sunny Spring-time, when who can live alone ?
Where the breaking forth of blossom on the yellow Keshra-sprays
Dazzles like Kama’s sceptre, whom all the world obeys;
And Patal-buds fill drowsy bees from pink delicious bowls.
As Kama’s nectared goblet steeps in languor human souls ;
There he dances with the dancers, and of Eadha thinketh none.
All in the warm new Spring-tide, when none will live alone.
Where the breath of waving Madhvi pours incense through the grove.
And silken Mogras lull the sense with essences of
O
love, —
12
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
The silken-soft pale Mogra, whose perfume fine and faint
Can melt the coldness of a maid, the sternness of a saint —
There dances with those dancers thine other self, thine Own,
All in the languorous Spring-time, when none will Live alone.
Where — as if warm lips touched sealed eyes and waked them — all the bloom
Opens upon the mangoes to feel the sunshine come ;
And Atimuktas wind their arms of softest green about,
Clasping the stems, while calm and clear great Jumna spreadeth out ;
Tliere dances and there laughs thy Love, with damsels many an one.
In the rosy days of Spring-time, for he will not live alone.
Mark this song of Jayadcv !
Deep as pearl in ocean-wave Lurhetli in its lines a wonder IVhich the wise alone will ponder :
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
13
Though it seemeth of the earth. Heavenly is the music's birth ; Telling darkly of delights In the wood, of wasted nights,
Of u'itless days, and fruitless love. And false plccLsures of the grove. And rash passions of the prime.
And those dances of Spring-time ; Time, which seems so sultle-siveet. Time, which pipes to dancing-fect. Ah f so softly — ah ! so sweetly — That among those wood .-maids featly Krishna cannot chocjse hut dance. Letting pass life’s greater chance.
Yet the winds that sigh so As they stir the rose.
Wake a sigh from Krishna Wistfuller than those;
All their faint breaths swinging The creepers to and fro Pass like rustling arrows
O
Shot from Kama’s how :
14
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Thus among the dancers What those zephyrs bring Strikes to Krishna’s spirit Like a darted sting.
And all as if — far wandered —
The traveller should hear The bird of home, the Koil,
With nest-notes rich and clear ;
And there should come one moment A blessed fleeting dream Of the bees among the mangoes Beside his native stream ;
So flash those sudden yearnings,
That sense of a dearer thing.
The love and lack of Eadha Upon his soul in Spring.
Then she, the maid of Eadha, spake again ;
And pointing far away between the leaves Guided her lovely Mistress where to look.
And note how Krishna wantoned in the wood Now with this one, now that ; his heart, her prize,
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
15
Pautiug with foolish passions, and his eyes Beaming with too much love for those fair girls — Fair, but not so as Radha ; and she sang :
( IVTiat follows is to the Music RamagirI aiul the Mode Yati.)
See, Lady ! how thy Krishna passes these idle hours
Decked forth in fold of woven gold, and crowned with forest-flowers ;
And scented with the sandal, and gay with gems of price —
Rubies to mate his laughing lips, and diamonds like his eyes
In the company of damsels,* who dance and sing and play.
Lies Krishna, laughing, toying, dreaming his Spring away.
One, with star-blossomed champak wreathed, wooes him to rest his head
On the dark pillow of her breast so tenderly outspread ;
• It wiU be observed that the “Gopis” here personify the five senses. Lassen says, “ Manifestum est pudlis istis nil aliud significari quam res scnsiles.”
t6
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
And o’er his brow with roses blown she fans a fragrance rare,
That falls on the enchanted sense like rain in thirsty air,
"WTiile the company of damsels wave many an odorous spray,
And Krishna, laughing, toying, sighs the soft Spring away.
Another, gazing in his face, sits wistfully apart.
Searching it with those looks of love that leap from heart to heart ;
Her eyes — afire with shy desire, veiled by their lashes black —
Speak so that Krishna cannot choose but send the message back.
In the company of damsels whose bright eyes in a ring
Shine round him with soft meanings in the merry light of Spring.
The third one of that dazzling band of dwellers in the wood —
Body and bosom panting with the pulse of youthful
blood —
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
17
Leans over him, as in his ear a lightsome thing to speak,
And then with leaf-soft lip imprints a kiss below his cheek ;
A kiss that thrills, and Krishna turns at the silken touch
To give it back — ah, Radha ! forgetting thee too much.
And one with arch smile becokns him away from Jumna’s banks.
Where the tall bamboos bristle like spears in battle- ranks.
And plucks his cloth to make him come into the mango- shade.
Where the fruit is ripe and golden, and the milk and cakes are laid ;
Oh ! golden-red the mangoes, and glad the feasts of Spring,
And fair the flowers to lie upon, and sweet the dancers sing.
Sweetest of all that Temptress who dances for him now With subtle feet which part and meet in the Eas- measure slow,
B
i8 THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
To the chime of silver bangles and the beat of rose-leaf hands,
And pipe and lute and cymbal played by the woodland bands ;
So that wholly passion-laden — eye, ear, sense, soul o’er- come —
Krishna is theirs in the forest; his heart forgets its home.
Krishna, made for heavenly things,
’Mid those woodland singers sings;
With those dancers dances featly.
Gives lack soft embraces sweetly;
Smiles on that one, toys with this.
Glance for glance and kiss for kiss;
Meets the merry damsels fairly.
Plays the round of folly rarely.
Lapped in milk-warm ^ring-time weather.
He and those brown girls together.
And this shadowed eaiihly love In the twilight of the grove.
Dance and song and soft caresses,
Meeting looks and tangled tresses.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
19
Jayadev the same hath writ,
That ye might have gain of it.
Sagely its deep sense conceiving And its inner light believing ;
How that Love — the mighty Master,
Lord of all the stars that cluster In the sky, swiftest and slowest.
Lord of highest. Lord of lowest — Manifests himself to mortals.
Winning them towards the portals Of his secret House, the gates Of that bright Paradise which waits The ivise in love. Ah, human creatures ! Even your phantasies are teachers.
Mighty Love makes sweet in seeming Even Krishna’s woodland dreaming ; Mighty Love sways all alike From self to selflessness. Oh ! strike From your eyes the veil, and see What Love willeth Him to be Who in error, but in grace,
Sitteth with that lotus-face.
And those eyes whose rays of heaven Unto phantom-eyes are given;
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Holding feasts of foolish mirth With these Visions of the earth ; Learning love, and love imparting ;
Yet with sense of loss upstarting : —
For the cloud that veils the fountains Underneath the Sandal mountains,
How — as if the sunshine drew All its being to the blue —
It takes flight, and seeks to rise High into the purer skies.
High into the snow and frost,
On the shining summits lost !
Ah ! and how the Foil’s strain Smites the traveller with pain, —
When the mango blooms in spring.
And Koohoof “ Koohoof they sing — Fain of pleasures not yet won.
Fain of journeys not yet done.
Fain of toiling without gaining.
Fain, ’mid gladness, of still paining.
15iit may He guide us all to glory high
"Who laughed wheu Eadha glided, hidden, by,
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
21
And all among those damsels free and bold Touched Krishna with a soft mouth, kind and cold ; And like the others, leaning on his breast,
Unlike the others, left there Love’s unrest;
And like the others, joining in his song,
Unlike the others, made him silent long.
(Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled Samodadamodaro.!
( 22 )
SARGA THE SECOND.
KLESHAKESHAVO.
THE PENITENCE OF KRISHNA.
Thus lingered Krishna in the deep, green wood, And gave himself, too prodigal, to those ;
But Eadha, heart-sick at his falling-off.
Seeing her heavenly beauty slighted so,
Withdrew ; and, in a bower of Paradise —
Where nectarous blossoms wove a shrine of shade. Haunted by birds and bees of unknown skies —
She sate deep-sorrowful, and sang this strain :
{What follows is to the Mv^ic GuiujakI and the Mode Yati.)
Ah, my Beloved ! taken with those glances.
Ah, my Beloved ! dancing those rash dances.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
23
Ah, Minstrel ! playing wongful strains so well ;
Ah, Krishna ! Krishna, with the honeyed lip !
Ah, Wanderer into foolish fellowship !
My Dancer, my Delight ! — I love thee still
0 Dancer ! strip thy peacock-crown away,
Eise ! thou whose forehead is the star of day,
With beauty for its silver halo set;
Come ! thou whose greatness gleams beneath its shroud Like Indra’s rainbow shining through the cloud — Come, for I love thee, my Beloved ! yet
Must love thee — cannot choose but love thee ever.
My best Beloved ! — set on this endeavour.
To win thy tender heart and earnest eye From lips but sadly sweet, from restless bosoms.
To mine, 0 Krishna with the mouth of blossoms I To mine, thou soul of Krishna ! yet I sigh
Half hopeless, thinking of myself forsaken.
And thee, dear Loiterer, in the wood o’ertaken With passion for those bold and wanton ones,
24
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Who knit thine arms as poison-plants gripe trees With twining cords — their flowers the braveries That flash in the green gloom, sparkling stars and stones.
My Prince ! my Lotus-faced ! my woe ! my love ! Whose broad brow, with the tilka-spot above,
Shames the bright moon at full with fleck of cloud ; Thou to mistake so little for so much !
Thou, Krishna, to be palm to palm with such !
0 Soul made for my joys, pure, perfect, proud !
Ah, my Beloved ! in thy darkness dear ;
Ah, Dancer ! with the jewels in thine ear.
Swinging to music of a loveless love ;
0 my Beloved ! in thy fall so high That angels, sages, spirits of the sky
Linger about thee, watching in the grove.
I will be patient still, and draw thee ever,
My one Beloved, sitting by the river
Under the thick kadambas with that throng :
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
25
■\Vill there not come an end to earthly madness ? Shall I not, past the sorrow, have the gladness ? Must not the love-light shine for him ere long ?
Shine, thou Light hy Eadha given. Shine, thou splendid star of heaven !
Be a lamp to Krishna’s feet.
Show to all hearts secrets sweet.
Of the wonder and the love Jayadev hath ''.vrit above.
Be the quick Interpreter
Unto wisest ears of her
Who ahvays sings to all, “ I wait.
He loveth still who loveth late.”
For (sang on that high Lady in the shade)
My soul for tenderness, not blame, was made ;
Mine eyes look through his evil to his good ;
My heart coins pleas for him ; my fervent thought Prevents what he will say when these are naught. And that which I am shall be understood.
Then spake she to her maiden wistfully —
26
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
(TVhat follows is to the Music Malavagauda and the Mode EKATALt.)
Go to him, — win him liither, — whisper low How he may find me if he searches well ;
Say, if he will — ^joys past his hope to know Await him here ; go now to him, and tell Where Eadha is, and that henceforth she charms His spirit to her arms.
Yes, go ! say, if he will, that he may come —
!May come, my love, my longing, my desire ;
May come forgiven, shriven, to me his home.
And make his happy peace ; nay, and aspire To uplift Eadha’s veil, and learn at length
What love is in its strength.
Lead him ; say softly I shall chide his blindness, And vex him with my angers ; yet add this,
He shall not vainly sue for loving-kindness.
Nor miss to see me close, nor lose the bliss That lives upon my lip, nor be denied
The rose-throne at my side.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
27
Say that I — Eadha — in my bower languish All widowed, till he find the way to me ;
Say that mine eyes are dim, my breast all anguish, Until with gentle murmured shame I see His steps come near, his anxious pleading face Bend for my pardoning grace.
While I — what, did he deem light loves so tender. To tarry for them when the vow was made To yield him up my bosom’s maiden splendour. And fold him in my fragrance, and unbraid My shining hair for him, aud clasp him close
To the gold heart of his Eose ?
And sing him strains which only spirits know.
And make him captive with the silk- soft chain Of twinned-udngs brooding round him, and bestow Kisses of Paradise, as pure as rain ;
My gems, my moonlight-pearls, my girdle-gold, Cymbaling music bold ?
While gained for ever, I shaE dare to grow Life to life with him, in the realms divine ;
28
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
And — Love’s large cup at happy overflow,
Yet ever to be filled — his eyes and mine Will meet in that glad look, when Time’s great gate
O 7 o o
Closes and shuts out Fate.
Listen to the unsaid things Of the song that Badha sings,
For the soul draws near to bliss,
As it comprehendeth this.
I am JayaAev, who write
All this subtle-rich delight
For your teaching. Ponder, then,
What it tells to Gods and men.
Err not, watching Krishna gay.
With those brown girls all at play ; Understand how Badha charms Her wandering lover to her arms.
Waiting with divinest love I'ill his dream ends in the grove.
For even now (she sang) I see liim pause,
Heart-stricken with the waste of heart lie makes
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
29
Amid tliem ; — all the bows of their bent brows Wound him no more : no more for all their sakes l*lays he one note upon his amorous lute,
But lets the strings lie mute.
I’ensive, as if his parted lips should say —
“ My feet with the dances are weary.
The music has dropped from the song,
There is no more delight in the lute-strings.
Sweet Shadows ! what thing has gone wrong ? The wings of the wind have left fanning The palms of the glade ;
They are dead, and the blossoms seem dying In the place where we played.
“ We will play no more, beautiful Shadows !
A fancy came solemn and sad.
More sweet, with unspeakable longings.
Than the best of the pleasures we had :
I am not now the Krishna who kissed you ;
That exquisite dream, —
The Vision I saw in my dancing —
Has spoiled w'hat you seem.
3°
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
“ Ah ! delicate phantoms that cheated With eyes that looked lasting and true,
I awake, — I have seen her, — my angel — Farewell to the wood and to you !
Oh, whisper of wonderful pity !
Oh, fair face that shone !
Though thou be a vision, Divinest !
This vision is done.”
{Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled Kleshakeshavo.)
( 31 )
SARGA THE THIRD.
MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO.
KKISHXA TROUBLED.
Thereat, — as one who welcomes to her throne A new-made Queen, and brings before it bound Her enemies, — so Krishna in his heart Throned Eadha ; and — all treasonous follies chained- He played no more with those first play-fellows : But, searching through the shadows of the grove For loveliest Eadha, — when he found her not,
Faint with the quest, despairing, lonely, lorn.
And pierced with shame for wasted love and days. He sate by Jumna, where the canes are thick,
And sang to the wood-echoes words like these :
32
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
( What follows is to the Music GuRJJARi and to the Mode Yati.)
Kadha, Enchantress ! Eadha, queen of all !
Gone — lost, because she found me sinning here;
And I so stricken with my foolish fall,
I could not stay her out of shame and fear ;
She will not hear ;
In her disdain and grief vainly I call
And if she heard, what would she do ? what say ?
How could I make it good that I forgot ?
What profit was it to me, night and day,
To live, love, dance, and dream, having her not ?
Soul without spot !
I wronged thy patience, till it sighed away.
Sadly 1 know the truth. Ah ! even now Eemembering that one look beside the river,
Softer the vexed eyes seem, and the proud brow
Tlian lotus-leaves when the bees make them quiver.
^ly love for ever ! .
Too late is Krishna wise — too far art thou !
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
33
Yet all day long in my deep heart I woo thee,
And all night long with thee my dreams are sweet ; "Wliy, then, so vainly must my steps pursue thee ? Why can I never reach thee, to entreat.
Low at thy feet.
Dear vanished Splendour ! till my tears subdue thee ?
Surpassing One ! I knew thou didst not brook Half-hearted worship, and a love that wavers ;
Haho ! there is the wisdom I mistook.
Therefore I seek with desperate endeavours ;
That fault dissevers
Me from my heaven, astray — condemned — forsook !
And yet I seem to feel, to know, thee near me ;
Thy steps make music, measured music, near;
Radha ! my Eadha ! will not sorrow clear me ?
Shine once ! speak one word pitiful and dear !
Wilt thou not hear ?
Canst thou — because I did forget — forsake me ?
Forgive ! the sin is sinned, is past, is over;
No thought I think shall do thee wrong again ;
c
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Turn thy dark eyes again upon thy lover Bright Spirit ! or I perish of this pain.
Loving again !
O O
In dread of doom to love, but not recover.
So did Krishna sing and sigh By the river-hank ; and I,
Jayadev of Kinduvilva,
Resting — as the moon of silver Sits upon the solemn ocean —
On full faith, in deep devotion ;
Tell it that ye may perceive How the heart must fret and grieve ; How the soul doth tire of earth,
Mhen the lore from Heav'n hath birth.
Tor (sang he on) I am no foe of tliine,
There is no black snake, Kama ! in my hair ;
Blue lotus-bloom, and not the poisoned brine,
Shadows my neck ; what stains my bosom bare, Thou God unfair!
Is sandal-dust, not ashes; nought of mine
THE INDIAN SONG Ut' SUNGS.
35
Makes me like Shiva that thou, Lord of Love ! Shouldst strain thy string at me and fit thy dart ;
This world is thine — let be one breast thereof Which bleeds already, wounded to the heart With lasting smart.
Shot from those brows that did my sin reprove.
Thou gavest her those black brows for a bow
Arched like thine own, whose pointed arrows seem
Her glances, and the underlids that go —
So firm and fine — its string ? Ah, fleeting gleam !
Beautiful dream 1
Small need of Kama’s help hast thou, I trow.
To smite me to the soul with love ; — but set Those arrows to their silken cord ! enchain
IMy thoughts in that loose hair ! let thy lips, wet With dew of heaven as bimba-buds with rain. Bloom precious pain
Of longing in my heart ; and, keener yet.
The heaving of thy lovely, angry bosom,
Pant to my spirit things unseen, unsaid ;
36
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
But if thy touch, thy tones, if the dark blossom Of thy dear face, thy jasmine-odours shed From feet to head,
If these be all with me, canst thou be far — be fled ?
So sang he, and I 'pray that whoso hears The music of his imming hopes and fears.
That whoso sees this vision hy the Biver Of Krishna, Hari, {can we name him ever ?)
And marlis his ear-ring rubies swinging slow.
As he sits still, unheedfvl, bending low To play this tune upon his lute, while all Listen to catch the sadness musical ;
And Krishna wotteth nought, but, with set face Turned full toward Badha’s, sings on in that place ; May all such soids — prays Jayadev — be wise To learn the wisdom which hereunder lies.
{Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled Mugdhamaduusudaxo.)
( 37 )
SARGA THE FOURTH.
SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO.
KRISHNA CHEERED.
Then she ■whom Radha sent came to the canes — The canes beside the river where he lay With listless limbs and spirit weak from love ; — And she sang this to Krishna wistfully ;
( What follows is to the, Music Karxata and the Mode EkatalI.)
Alt thou sick for Radha ? she is sad in turn,
Heaven foregoes its blessings, if it holds not thee ; All the cooling fragrance of sandal she doth spurn. Moonlight makes her mournful with radiance silvery;
38 THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Even the southern breeze blown fresh from pearly seas, Seems to her but tainted by a dolorous brine ;
And for thy sake discontented, with a great love over- laden,
Her soul comes here beside thee, and sitteth down with thine.
Her soul comes here beside thee, and tenderly and true It weaves a siibtle mail of proof to ward off sin and pain ;
A breastplate soft as lotus-leaf, with holy tears for dew, To guard thee from the things that hurt ; and then ’tis gone again
To strew a blissful place with the richest buds that grace Kama’s sweet world, a meeting-spot with rose and jasmine fair.
For the hour when, well-contented, with a love no longer troubled.
Thou shalt find the way to Radha, and finish sorrows there.
But now her lovely face is shadowed by her fears ;
Her glorious eyes are veiled and dim like moouUght in eclipse
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
39
By breaking rain-clouds, Krishna ! yet she paints you in her tears
With tender thoughts — not Krishna, but brow and breast and lips
And form and mien a King, a great and god-like thing ; And then with bended head she asks grace from the Love Divine,
To keep thee discontented with the phantoms thou for- swearest.
Till she may win her glory, and thou be raised to thine.
Softly now she sayeth,
“ Krishna, Krishna, come ! ”
Lovingly she prayeth,
“ Fair moon, light him home.”
Yet if Hari helps not.
Moonlight cannot aid ;
Ah ! the woeful Eadha !
Ah ! the forest shade !
Ah ! if Hari guide not.
Moonlight is as gloom ;
Ah ! if moonlight help not.
How shall Krishna come ?
40
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Sad for Krishna grieving In the darkened grove ;
Sad for Eadha weaving Dreams of fruitless love !
Strike soft strings to this soft measure.
If thine ear would catch its treasure y Slowly dance to this deep song,
Let its meaning float along With grave paces, since it tells Of a love that sweetly dwells In a tender distant glory.
Past all faults of mortal story.
( What follows is to the Music Desiiaga and the Mode EkatalI.)
Krishna, till thou come unto her, faint she lies with love and fear;
Even the jewels of her necklet seem a load too great to bear.
Krishna, till thou come unto her, all the sandal and the flowers
Vex her with their pure perfection though they grow in heavenly bowers.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
41
Krisluia, till tliou come uuto her, fair albeit tliose bowers may be,
Passion burns her, and love’s fire fevers her for lack of thee.
Krishna, till thou come unto her, those divine lids, dark and tender.
Droop like lotus-leaves in rain-storms, dashed and heavy in their splendour.
Krishna, till thou come unto her, that rose-couch which she hath spread
Saddens with its empty place, its double pillow for one head.
Krishna, till thou come unto her, from her palms she will not lift
The dark face hidden deep within them like the moon in cloudy rift.
Krishna, till thou come unto her, angel though she be, thy Love
Sighs and suffers, waits and watches — ^joyless ’mid those joys above.
42
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Krishna, till thou come unto her, with the comfort of thy kiss
Deeper than thy loss, 0 Krishna ! must be loss of Eaclha’s bliss.
Krishna, while thou didst forget her — her, thy life, thy gentle fate —
Wonderful her waiting was, her pity sweet, her patience great.
Krishna, come ! ’tis grief untold to grieve her — shame to let her sigh ;
Come, for she is sick with love, and thou her only remedy.
So she sang, and Jayadeva Prays for all, and prays for ever,
That Great Hari may bestow Utmost bliss of loving so On us all ; — that one who wore The herdsman's form, and heretofore.
To save the shepherd’s threatened flocic.
Up from the earth reared the huge rock —
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
43
Bestoxo it with a graciotis hand.
Albeit, amid the woodland hav,d.
Clinging dose in fond caresses Krishna gave them ardent kisses,
I'aking on his lips divine Earthly stamp and woodland sign.
(Here e7ids that Sarga of the Cifa Govinda entitled SnIG DU AM ADII USUDA NO).
( 44 )
SAJ^GA THE FIFTH
SAKANDKSHAPUNDARIKAKSHO.
THE LOGGINGS OF KEISHNA,
“ Say I am here ! oh, if she pardons me,
Say where I am, and win her softly liither.” So Krishna to the maid ; and willingly She came again to Eadha, and she sang :
( What follows is to the Music DeshivaradI and the Mode Eupaka.)
Low whispers the wind from Malaya Overladen with love;
On the hills all the grass is burned yellow; And the trees in the grove
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
45
Droop with tendrils that mock by their clinging The thoughts of the parted ;
And there lies, sore-sighing for thee,
Thy love, altered-hearted.
To him the moon’s icy-chill silver Is a sun at midday ;
The fever he burns with is deeper Than starlight can stay :
Like one who falls stricken by arrows, With the colour departed From all but his red wounds, so lies Thy love, bleeding-hearted.
To the music the banded bees make him He closeth his ear ;
In the blossoms their small horns are blowing The honey-song clear ;
But as if every sting to his bosom Its smart had imparted.
Low lies by the edge of the river.
Thy love, aching-hearted.
46
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
By the edge of the river, far wandered From his once beloved bowers,
And the haunts of his beautiful playmates,
And the beds strewn with flowers ;
Now thy name is his playmate — that only ! — And the hard rocks upstarted From the sand make the couch where he lies, Thy Krishna, sad-hearted.
Oh may Hari fill each send.
As these gentle verses roll Telling of the anguish borne By kindred ones asunder torn !
Oh may Hari unto each All the lore of loving teach,
All the pain and all the bliss;
Jayadeva prayeth this !
Yea, Lady ! in the self-same spot he waits Where with thy kiss thou taught’st him utmost love. And drew him, as none else draws, with thy Jook ; And all day long, and all night long, his cry Is " Badha, Eadha,” like a spell said o’er ;
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
47
And in his heart there lives no wish nor nope Save only this, to slake his spirit’s thirst For Eadha’s love on Eadha’s lips ; and find Peace in the immortal beauty of thy brow’.
( Uliat follows is to the Music Gurjjaiu and the Mode EkatalI.)
unstress, sweet and bright and holy !
^leet him in that place ;
Change his cheerless melancholy Into joy and grace ;
If thou hast forgiven, vex not ;
If thou lovest, go.
Watching ever by the river,
Krishna listens low :
Listens low, and on his reed there Softly sounds thy name,
Slaking even mute things plead there For his hope : ’tis shame That, while winds are welcome to him,
If from thee they blow,
Slournful ever by the river Krishna waits thee so !
48
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
When a bird’s wing stirs the roses. When a leaf falls dead,
Twenty times he recomposes The flower-seat he has spread : Twenty times, with anxious glances Seeking thee in vain,
Sighing ever by the river,
Krishna droops again.
Loosen from thy foot the bangle. Lest its golden bell.
With a tiny, tattling jangle,
Any false tale tell :
If thou fearest that the moonlight Will thy glad face know,
Draw those dark braids lower, Lady ! But to Krishna go.
Swift and still as lightning’s splendour Let thy beauty come.
Sudden, gracious, dazzling, tender,
To his arms — its home.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
49
Swift as India’s yellow lightning, Shining through the night. Glide to Krishna’s lonely bosom, Take him love and light.
Grant, at last, love’s utmost measure, Giving, give the whole ;
Keep back nothing of the treasure Of thy priceless soul :
Hold with both hands out unto him Thy chalice, let him drain The nectar of its dearest draught.
Till not a wish remain.
Only go — the stars are setting.
And thy Krishna grieves ;
Doubt and anger quite forgetting.
Hasten throusrh the leaves :
O
AVlierefore didst thou lead him heav’nward But for this thing’s sake ?
Comfort him with pity, Eadha !
Or his heart must break.
so THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
But while Jayadeva writes This rare tale of deep delights —
Jayadev, whose heart is given Unto Hari, Lord in Heaven —
See that ye too, as ye read,
With a glad and humble heed.
Bend your hrows before His face.
That ye may have bliss and grace.
Aud tlien the Maid, compassionate, sang on —
Lady, most sweet !
For thy coming feet
He listens in the wood, with love sore-tried ;
Faintly sighing.
Like one a-dying.
He sends his thoughts afoot to meet his bride.
Ah, silent one I Sunk is the sun.
The darkness falls as deep as Krishna’s sorrow ;
The chakor’s strain Is not more vain
Than mine, and soon gray dawn will bring white
morrow.
rUE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
SI
Aud thine own bliss Delays by this ;
Tlie utmost of thy heaven comes only so When, with hearts beating And passionate greeting,
Parting is over, and the parted grow
One — one for ever !
And the old endeavour To be so blended is assuaged at last ;
And the glad tears raining Have nought remaining
Of doubt or ’plaining ; and the dread has passed
Out of each face.
In the close embrace,
That by-and-by embracing will be over ;
The ache that causes Those mournful pauses In bowers of earth between lover and lover :
To be no more felt.
To fade, to melt
In the strong certainty of joys immortal ;
52
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
In the glad meeting,
And quick sweet greeting Of lips that close beyond Time’s shadowy portal.
And to thee is given,
Angel of Heaven !
This glory and this joy with Krishna. Go !
Let him attain,
For his long pain,
The prize it promised, — see thee coming slow,
A vision first, but then —
By glade and glen —
A lovely, loving soul, true to its home ;
His Queen — his Crown — his All, Hast’ning at last to faU
Upon his breast, and live there. Eadha, come !
Come ! and come thou, Lord of all,
Unto whom the Three Worlds call ;
Thou, that didst in angry might,
Kansa, like a comet, smite ;
Thou, that in thy passion tender,
\
As incarnate spell and splendour.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
53
Hxmg on Radha's glorioxts face —
In the garh of Krishna’s grace —
As above the bloom the bee,
When the honeyed revelry Is too subtle-siveet an one Not to hang and dall y on ;
Thou that art the Three Worlds’ glory.
Of life the light, of every story The meaning and the mark, of love The root and flower, o’ the sky above The blue, of bliss the heart, of those.
The lovers, that which did impose The gentle law, that each shoidd be The other’s Heav’n and harmony.
{Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled Sakandkshapuxdarikaksho.)
( 54 )
SARGA THE SIXTH.
D H R I S H T A V A I K U N T 0.
KRISHNA MADE BOLDER.
But seeing that, for all her loving will,
The flower-soft feet of Radha had not power To leave their place and go, she sped again —
That maiden — and to Krishna’s eager ears Told how it fared with his sweet mistress there.
( What follows is to the Music GondakirI and the Mode Rupaka.)
Krishna ! ’tis thou must come, (slie sang)
Ever she waits thee in heavenly bower ;
The lotus seeks not the wandering bee.
The bee must find the flower.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
55
All tlie wood over her deep eyes roam,
Marvelling sore where tarries the bee,
Who leaves such lips of nectar unsought As those that blossom for thee.
1 ler steps would fail if she tried to come,
Would falter and fail, with yearning weak ;
At the first of the road they would falter and pause. And the way is strange to seek.
Find her where she is sitting, then.
With lotus-blossom on ankle and arm
Wearing thine emblems, and musing of nought But the meeting to be — glad, warm.
To be — “but wherefore tarrieth he?"
“ What can stay or delay him ? — go !
See if the soul of Krishna comes,”
Ten times she sayeth to me so ;
Ten times lost in a languorous swoon,
“ Now he cometh — ^he cometh,” she cries;
And a love-look lightens her eyes in the gloom.
And the darkness is sweet with her sighs.
56 THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Till, watching in vain, she glideth again
• Under the shade of the whispering leaves ;
With a heart too full of its love at last To heed how her bosom heaves.
Shall not these fair verses swell The number of the wise who dwell In the realm of Kama’s bliss ?
Jayadeva -prayeth this,
Jayadev, the bard of Love,
Servant of the Gods above.
For all so strong in Heaven itself
Is Love, that Eadha sits drooping there,
Her beautiful bosoms panting with thought. And the braids drawn back from her ear.
And — angel albeit — her rich lips breathe Sighs, if sighs were ever so sweet ;
And — if spirits can tremble — she trembles now From forehead to jewelled feet.
And her voice of music sinks to a sob.
And her eyes, like eyes of a mated roe,
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
57
Are tender with looks of yielded love,
With dreams dreamed long ago ;
Long — long ago, but soon to grow truth.
To end, and be waking and certain and true ;
Of which dear surety murmur her lips.
As the lips of sleepers do :
And, dreaming, she loosens her gii-dle-pearls, And opens her arms to the empty air.
Then starts, if a leaf of the champak falls. Sighing, “ 0 leaf ! is he there ? ”
Why dost thou linger in this dull spot,
Haunted by serpents and evil for thee ?
Why not hasten to Xanda’s House ?
It is plain, if thine eyes could see.
May these words of high endeavour — ■ Fxdl of grace and gentle favour — Find out those whose hearts can feci IVhat the message did reveal,
58
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Words that Radha's messenger Unto Krishna took from her.
Slowly guiding him to eorne Through the forest to his home,
Guiding him to find the road
Which led — though long — to Laves abode.
{Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled Diikisiitavaikunto.)
( 59 )
SARGA THE SEVENTH.
I P R A L A B D H A Y A R N A N E N A G A R A N A R A Y A X O.
KRISHNA SUPPOSED FALSE.
Meantime the moon, the rolling moon, clomb high,
And over all Yrindavana it shone ;
The moon vrhich on the front of gentle night (Hearns like the chundun-mark on beauty’s brow ;
The conscious moon which hath its silver face !Marred with the shame of lighting earthly loves :
And while the round white lamp of earth rose higher, And still he tarried, Eadha, petulant.
Sang soft impatience and half-earnest fears :
6o
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
(What follows is to the Music Malava and the Mode Yati.)
’Tis time I — he comes not ! — will he come ?
Can he leave me thus to pine ?
Yami M ham sharanam !
Ah ! what refuge then is mine ?
For his sake I sought the wood, Threaded dark and devious ways ; Yami M ham sharanam !
Can it be Krishna betrays ?
Let me die then, and forget Anguish, patience, hope, and fear ; Yami M ham sharanam !
Ah, why have I held him dear ?
Ah, this soft night torments me. Thinking that his faithless arms — Yami M ham sharanam ! —
Clasp some shadow of my charms.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
6i
Fatal shadow — fooKsh mock !
When the great love shone confessed ; — Yami M karti sharanam !
Krishna’s lotus loads my breast ;
'Tis too heavy, lacking him ;
Like a broken flower I am —
Necklets, jewels, what are ye ?
Yami M ham sharanam !
Yami M ham sharanam !
The sky is still, the forest sleeps ; Krishna forgets — he loves no more ;
He fails in faith, and Eadha weeps.
But the poet Jayadev —
He who is great Haris slave.
He who finds asylum sweet Only at great Hari’s feet ;
He who for your comfort sings All this to the Vinas strings —
Prays that Radha’s tender moan In your hearts he thought upon.
62
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
And that all her holy grace Live there like the loved one’s face.
Yet, if I wrong him ! (sang she) — can he fail ?
Could any in the wood win back his kisses ?
Could any softest lips of earth prevail To hold him from my arms ? any love-blisses
Blind him once more to mine ? 0 Soul, my prize !
Art thou not merely hindered at this hour ?
Sore- wearied, wandering, lost ? how otherwise Shouldst thou not hasten to the bridal-bower ?
But seeing far away that Maiden come
Alone, with eyes cast down and lingering steps,
Auain a little while she feared to hear
Of Krishna false ; and her quick thoughts took shape
In a fine jealousy, with words like these —
Something then of earth has held him From his home above.
Some one of those slight deceivers —
Ah, my foolish love !
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
63
Some new face, some winsome playmate, With her hair untied.
And the blossoms tangled in it,
Woos him to her side.
On the dark orbs of her bosom — Passionately heaved —
Sink and rise the warm, white pearl-strings. Oh, my love deceived !
Fair ? yes, yes ! the rippled shadow Of that midnight hair
Shows above her brow — as clouds do O’er the moon — most fair :
And she knows, with wilful paces.
How to make her zone
Gleam and please him ; and her ear-rings Tinkle love ; and grown
Coy as he grows fond, she meets him With a modest show ;
Shaming truth with truthful seeming,
While her laugh — light, low —
64
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
And her subtle mouth that murmurs,
And her silken cheek,
And her eyes, say she dissembles Plain as speech could speak.
Till at length, a fatal victress.
Of her triumph vain.
On his neck she lies and smiles there : — Ah, my Joy ! — my Pain !
But may Eadha's fond annoy,
And may Krishna’s dawning joy.
Warm and waken love more fit— Jayadeva prayeth it —
And the griefs and sins assuage Of this blind and evil age.
0 Moon ! (she sang) that art so pure and pale.
Is Krishna wan like thee with lonely waiting ? 0 lamp of love ! art thou the lover’s friend.
And wilt not bring him, my long pain abating ? 0 fruitless moon ! thou dost increase my pain 0 faithless Krishna ! I have striven in vain.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
65
And then, lost in her fancies sad, she moaned —
( What follows is to the Mv.sic GurjjarI and the Mode EkatalL)
In vain, in vain !
Earth will of earth ! I mourn more than I blame ;
If he had known, he would not sit and paint The tilka on her smooth black brow, nor claim Quick kisses from her yielded lips — false, faint — False, fragrant, fatal ! Krishna’s quest is o’er By Jumna’s shore !
Vain — it was vain !
The temptress was too near, the heav’n too far ;
I can but weep because he sits and ties Garlands of fire-flowers for her loosened hair,
And in its silken shadow veils his eyes And buries his fond face. Yet I forgave By Jumna’s wave !
Vainly! all vain !
JIake then the most of that whereto thou’rt given. Feign her thy Paradise — thy Love of loves ;
E
66
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Say that her eyes are stars, her face the heaven, Her bosoms the two worlds, with sandal-groves Full-scented, and the kiss-marks — ah, thy dream By Jumna’s stream !
It shall be vain !
And vain to string the emeralds on her arm.
And hang the milky pearls upon her neck. Saying they are not jewels, hut a swarm Of crowded, glossy bees, come there to suck The rosebuds of her breast, the sweetest flowers Of Jumna’s bowers.
That shall be vain !
Nor wilt thou so believe thine own blind wooing, Nor slake thy heart’s thirst even with the cup Which at the last she brims for thee, undoing Her girdle of carved gold, and yielding up, Love’s uttermost : brief the poor gain and pride By Jumna’s tide
Because still vain
Is love that feeds on shadow ; vain, as thou dost. To look so deep into the phantom eyes
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
67
For that which lives not there; and vain, as thou must, To marvel why the painted pleasure flies,
When the fair, false wings seemed folded for ever By Jumna’s river.
And vain ! yes, vain !
For me too is it, having so much striven.
To see this slight snare take thee, and thy soul Which should have climbed to mine, and shared my heaven.
Spent on a lower loveliness, whose whole Passion of claim were but a parody Of that kept here for thee.
Ahaha! vain!
For on some isle of Jumna’s silver stream He gives all that they ask to those hard eyes, While mine which are his angel’s, mine which gleam With light that might have led him to the skies — That almost led him — are eclipsed with tears Wailing my fruitless prayers.
But thou, good Friend,
Hang not thy head for shame, nor come so slowly. As one whose message is too ill to tell ;
63
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
If thou must say Krishna is forfeit wholly —
Wholly forsworn and lost — let the grief dwell Where the sin doth, — except in this sad heart, Which cannot shun its part.
0 great Hari ! purge from wrong The soul of Mm who writes this song ;
Purge the souls of those that read From every fault of thought and deed ;
With thy blessed light assuage The darkness of this evil age !
Jayadev the hard of love.
Servant of the Gods above,
Prays it for himself and you —
Gentle hearts who listen ! — too.
Then in this other strain she wailed his loss —
{What follows is to the Music DesiiavaradI and the Mode Kupaka.
She, not hadha, wins the crown Whose false lips were dearest ;
rilE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
69
What was distant gain to him When sweet loss stood nearest ?
Love her, therefore, lulled to loss On her fatal bosom ;
Love her with such love as she Can give back in the blossom.
Love her, 0 thou rash lost soul ! With thy thousand graces ;
Coin rare thoughts into fair words For her face of faces ;
Praise it, fling away for it Life’s purpose in a sigh,
All for those lips like flower-leaves. And lotus-dark deep eye.
Nay, and thou shalt be happy too Till the fond dream is over ;
And she shall taste delight to hear The wooing of her lover ;
The breeze that brings the sandal up From distant green Malay,
Shall seem all fragrance in the night, All coolness in the day.
70 THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
The crescent moon shall seem to swim Only that she may see The glad eyes of my Krishna gleam,
And her soft glances he :
It shall be as a silver lamp Set in the sky to show The rose-leaf palms that cling and clasp, And the breast that beats below.
The thought of parting shall not lie Cold on their throbbing lives.
The dread of ending shall not chill The glow beginning gives ;
She in her beauty dark shall look — As long as clouds can be —
As gracious as the rain-time cloud Kissing the shining sea.
And he, amid his playmates old.
At least a little while,
Sliall not breathe forth again the sigh That spoils the song and smile ;
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
71
Sliall be left wholly to his choice,
Free for his pleasant sin,
With the golden-girdled damsels Of the bowers I found him in.
For me, his Angel, only The sorrow and the smart.
The pale grief sitting on the brow,
The dead hope in the heart ;
For me the loss of losing.
For me the ache and dearth ;
^ly king crowned with the wood-flowers ! ]\Iy fairest upon earth !
ITari, Lord and King of love !
From thy throne of light above Stoop to help Its, deign to take Our spirits to thee for the sake Of this song, which speaks the fears Of all who weep with Badha’s tears.
But love is strong to pardon, slow to part,
And still the Lady, in her fancies, sang —
72
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Wind of the Indian stream !
4. little — oh ! a little — breathe once more The fragrance like his mouth’s ! blow from thy shore One last word as he fades into a dream ;
Bodiless Lord of love !
Show him once more to me a minute’s space,
My Krishna, with the love-look in his face,
And then I come to my own place above ;
I will depart and give All back to Fate and her : I will submit To thy stern will, and bow myself to it.
Enduring still, though desolate, to live :
If it indeed be life.
Even so resigning, to sit patience-mad.
To feel the zephyrs burn, the sunlight sad.
The peace of holy heaven, a restless strife.
Haho ! what words are these ?
How can 1 live and lose him ? how not go , Whither love draws me for a soul loved so ?
How yet endure such sorrow ? — or how cease ?
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
73
Wind of the Indian wave!
If that thou canst, blow poison here, not nard ; God of the five shafts ! shoot thy sharpest hard, And kill me, Kadha, — Radha who forgave 1
Or, bitter River,
Yamfiu! be Yama’s sister! be Death’s kin! Swell thy w'ave up to me and gulf me in. Cooling this cruel, burning pain for ever.
Ah ! if only visions stir Grief so passionate in her,
IVhat divine grief will not take.
Spirits in heaven for the sake Of those who miss love ? Oh, he wise !
Mark this story of the skies ;
Meditate Govinda ever.
Sitting hy the sacred river.
The mystic stream, which o’er his feet Glides slow, with murmurs low and sweet, TUI none can tell whether those he Blvee lotus-hlooms, seen veiledly Under the wave, or mirrored gems Reflected from the diadems
74
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Bound on the brows of mighty Gods,
Who lean from out their pure abodes,
And leave their bright felicities To guide great Krishna to his skies.
{Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled ViPRALABDHAVARNANE NaGARAXARAYANO.)
( 75 )
SARGA THE EIGHTH.
KHANDITAVARNANE V I L A K S H A L A K S H :\I I P A T I.
THE REBUKING OF KRISHNA.
For when the weary night had worn away In these vain fears, and the clear morning broke, Lo, Krishna ! lo, the longed-for of her soul Came too ! — in the glad light he came, and bent His knee, and clasped his hands ; on his dumb Ups Fear, wonder, joy, passion, and reverence Strove for the trembling words, and Eadha knew Joy won for him and her; yet none the less A little time she chided him, and sang :
76
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
( What follows is to the Music Bhairav! awL the Mode Yati.)
Krishna ! — then thou hast found me ! — and thine eyes Heavy and sad and stained, as if with weeping !
Ah ! is it not that those, which were thy prize.
So radiant seemed that all night thou wert keeping Vigils of tender wooing ? — have thy Love !
Here is no place for vows broken in making;
Thou Lotus-eyed ! thou soul for whom I strove !
Go ! ere I listen, my just mind forsaking.
Krishna ! my Krishna with the woodland-wreath !
Return, or I shall soften as I blame ;
Tlie while thy very lips are dark to the teeth With dye that from her lids and lashes came,
Left on the mouth I touched. Fair traitor ! go !
Say not they darkened, lacking food and sleep Long waiting for my face ; I turn it — so —
Go ! ere I half believe thee, pleading deep ;
But wilt thou plead, when, like a love-verse printed On the smooth polish of an emerald,
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
77
T see the marks she stamped, the kisses dinted Large-lettered, by her lips ? thy speech withheld Speaks all too plainly ; go, — abide thy choice !
If thou dost stay, I shall more greatly grieve thee Not records of her victory ? — peace, dear voice ! Hence with that godlike brow, lest I believe thee.
For dar’st thou feign the saffron on thy bosom Was not implanted in disloyal embrace ?
Or that this many-coloured love-tree blossom Shone not, but yesternight, above her face ? Comest thou here, so late, to be forgiven,
0 thou, in whose eyes Truth was made to live ? 0 thou, so worthy else of grace and heaven ?
0 thou, so nearly won ? Ere I forgive.
Go, Krishna ! go ! — lest I should think, unwise. Thy heart not false, as thy long lingering seems. Lest, seeing myself so imaged in thine eyes,
I shame the name of Pity — turn to dreams The sacred sound of vows ; make Virtue grudge Her praise to Mercy, calling thy sin slight ;
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
, 78
Go therefore, dear offender! go! thy Judge Had best not see thee to give sentence right.*
But may he grant us peace at last and bliss IFho heard, — and smiled to hear, — delays like this. Belays that dallied with a dream come true.
Fond wilful angers ; for the maid laughed too To see, as Radha ended, her hand take His dark robe for her veil, and Krishna make The word she spoke for parting kindliest sign He should not go, but stay. 0 grace divine.
Be ours too ! Jayadev, the Poet of love,
Prays it from Hari, lordliest above.
{Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled KhANDITAVARNANE ViLAKSlIALAKSHMIPATI.)
The text here is not closely followed.
( 79 )
SARGA THE NINTH
KALAHANTARITAVA RNANE MUGDHAMUKUNDO.
THE END OF KRISHNA’S TRIAL
Yet not quite did the doubts of Eadha die,
Nor her sweet brows unbend; but she, the Maid — Knowing her heart so tender, her soft arms Acliing to take him in, her rich mouth sad For the comfort of his kiss, and these fears false — Spake yet a little in fair words like these :
( ^Vllat follows is to the Music GurjjarI and the Mode Y’ati.)
The lesson that thy faithful love has taught him He has heard ;
The wind of spring, obeying thee, hath brought him At thy word ;
8o
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
What joy in all the three worlds was so precious To thy mind ?
Md kooroo mdnini mdnamayh*
Ah, be kind !
No longer from his earnest eyes conceal Thy delights ;
Lift thy face, and let the jealous veil reveal All his rights ;
The glory of thy beauty was but given For content;
Md kooroo mdnini mdnamayh.
Oh, relent !
Eemember, being distant, how he bore thee In his heart ;
Look on him sadly turning from before thee To depart ;
Is he not the soul thou lovedst, sitting lonely In the wood ?
Md kooi'oo mdnini mdnamayi,
’Tis not good !
My proud one ! do not indulge in scorn.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
8i
lie who grants thee high delight in bridal-bower Pardons long ;
What the gods do love may do at such an hour Without wrong ;
Why weepest thou ? why keepest thou in anger Thy lashes down ?
Md kooroo mdnini mdnamay^,
Do not frown !
Lift thine eyes now, and look on him, bestowing. Without speech ;
Let him pluck at last the flower so sweetly growing In his reach ;
The fruit of lips, of loving tones, of glances That forgive ;
Md kooroo mdnini mdnamayt.
Let him live !
Let him speak with thee, and pray to thee, and prove thee
All his truth ;
Let his silent loving lamentation move thee Asking ruth ;
F
82
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
How knowest thou ? Ah, listen, dearest Lady, He is there ;
Md kooroo mdnini rndnamayh,
Thou must hear !
0 rare voice, which is a spell Unto all on earth who dwell !
0 rich voice of rapturous love.
Making melody ahove !
Krishna's, Sari’s — one in two,
Sound these mortal verses through 1 Sou'fid like that soft flute which made Such a magic in the shade —
Calling deer- eyed maidens nigh.
Waking wish and stirring sigh.
Thrilling blood and melting breasts, IVhispering love’s divine unrests. Winning blessings to descend,
Bringing earthly ills to end ; —
Be thou heard in this song now Thou, the great Enchantment, thou I
{Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled KaLAHANTAKITAVARNANE MUGDllAMUKUNnO.)
( 83 )
SARGA THE TENTH.
M ANINI V ARN ANE CHATURACHATURBHUJO.
KRISHNA IN PARADISE.
But she, abasing still her glorious eyes,
And stUl not yielding all her face to him.
Relented ; till with softer upturned look She smiled, while the Maid pleaded ; so thereat Came Krishna nearer, and his eager hps ^lixed sighs with words in this fond song he sang:
( follows is to the Music DESHiYAVAEAui and the Mode Ashtatali.)
0 angel of my hope ! 0 my heart’s home ! ily fear is lost in love, my love in fear ;
84
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
This bids me trust my burning wish, and come,
That checks me with its memories, drawing near : Lift up thy look, and let the thing it saith End fear with grace, or darken love to death.
Or only speak once more, for though thou slay me. Thy heavenly mouth must move, and I shall hear Dulcet delights of perfect music sway me Again — again that voice so blest and dear ;
Sweet Judge ! the prisoner prayeth for his doom That he may hear his fate divinely come.
Speak once more ! then thou canst not choose but show Thy mouth’s unparalleled and honeyed wonder Where, like pearls hid in red-lipped shells, the row Of pearly teeth thy rose-red lips lie under ;
Ah me ! I am that bird that woos the moon.
And pipes — poor fool ! to make it glitter soon.
Yet hear me on — because I cannot stay
The passion of my soul, because my gladness Will pour forth from my heart ; — since that far day When through the mist of all my sin and sadness
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
85
Thou didst vouchsafe — Surpassing One ! — to break.
All else I slighted for thy noblest sake.
Thou, thou hast been my blood, my breath, my being ;
The pearl to plunge for in the sea of life ;
The sight to strain for, past the bounds of seeing ;
The victory to win through longest strife ;
!My Queen ! my crowned Mistress ! my sphered bride ! Take this for truth, that what I say beside
Of bold love — grown full-orbed at sight of thee —
May be forgiven with a quick remission ;
For, thou divine fulfilment of all hope !
Thou all-undreamed completion of the vision !
I gaze upon thy beauty, and my fear
Passes as clouds do, when the moon shines clear.
So if thouTt angry still, this shall avail.
Look straight at me, and let thy bright glance wound me;
Fetter me ! gjwe me 1 lock me in the gaol Of thy delicious arms ; make fast around me The silk-soft manacles of wrists and hands.
Then kill me ! I shall never break those bands.
86
THE INDIAN SONG OP SONGS.
The starlight jewels flaslaing on thy breast Have not my right to hear thy beating heart ;
The happy jasmine-buds that clasp thy waist Are soft usurpers of my place and part ;
If that fair girdle only there must shine,
Give me the girdle’s life — the girdle mine !
Thy brow like smooth Bandhhka-leaves ; thy cheek Which the dark-tinted Madhuk’s velvet shows ; Thy long-lashed Lotus eyes, lustrous and meek ;
Thy nose a Tila-bud ; thy teeth like rows Of Kunda-petals ! he who pierceth hearts Points with thy lovelinesses all five darts.
But Eadiant, Perfect, Sweet, Supreme, forgive !
My heart is wise — my tongue is foolish still :
I know where I am come — I know I live —
I know that thou art Kadha — that this will Last and be heaven : that 1 have leave to rise Up from thy feet, and look into thine eyes!
And, nearer coming, I ask for grace Now that the blest eyes turn to mine;
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS. 87
Faithful I stand in this sacred place Since first I saw them shine :
Dearest glory that stills my voice,
Beauty unseen, unknown, unthought !
Splendour of love, in whose sweet light Darkness is past and nought ;
Ah, beyond words that sound on earth,
Golden bloom of the garden of heaven !
Kadha, enchantress ! Kadha, the queen !
Be this trespass forgiven —
In that I dare, with courage too much And a heart afraid, — so bold it is grown —
To hold thy hand with a bridegroom’s touch.
And take thee for mine, mine own.* aS(9 I/iey met and so they ended Pain and farting, being blended Life with life — made one for ever .
In high love ; and Jayadeva Hasteneth on to close the story Of their bridal grace and glory.
{Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled Maninivaexane Chaturachaturbhpjo.)
Much here also is necessarily paraphrased.
( 88 )
SAUGA THE ELEVENTH.
EADHIKAMILANE
SANANDADAMODAEO.
THE UNION OF EADHA AND KEISHNA.
Thus followed soft and lasting peace, and griefs Died while she listened to his tender tongue,
Her eyes of antelope alight with love ;
And while he led the way to the bride-bower The maidens of her train adorned her fair With golden marriage-cloths, and sang this song :
(What follows is to the M%esic Vasanta and the Mode Yati.)
Follow, happy Kadha ! follow, —
In the quiet falling twilight —
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
89
The steps of him ■who followed thee So steadfastly and far;
Let us bring thee where the banjulas Have spread a roof of crimson,
Lit.np by many a marriage-lamp Of planet, sun, and star :
For the hours of doubt are over.
And thv glad and faithful lover Hath foiind the road by tears and prayers To thy divinest side ;
And thou wilt not now deny him One delight of all thy beauty,
But yield up open-hearted His pearl, his prize, his bride.
Oh, follow ! while we fill the air With songs and softest music ;
Lauding thy wedded loveliness,
Dear Mistress past compare !
For there is not any splendour Of Apsarases immortal —
No glory of their beauty rich —
But Eadha has a share ;
90 THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Oh, follow ! while we sing the song That fills the worlds with longing,
The music of the Lord of love Who melts all hearts with bliss ;
Tor now is born the gladness
That springs from mortal sadness,
And all soft thoughts and things and hopes Were presages of this.
Then, follow, happiest Lady !
Follow him thou lovest wholly;
The hour is come to follow now The soul thy spells have led ;
Ilis are thy breasts like jasper-cups.
And his thine eyes like planets ;
Thy fragrant hair, thy stately neck.
Thy queenly sumptuous head ;
Thy soft small feet, thy perfect lips,
Thy teeth like jasmine petals.
Thy gleaming rounded shoulders,
And long caressing arms,
Being thine to give, are his ; and his ’
The twin strings of thy girdle.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
9>
And his the priceless treasure Of thine utter-sweetest charms.
►So follow I while the flowers break forth lu white and amber clusters,
At the breath of thy pure presence,
And the radiance on thy brow ;
Oil, follow where the Asokas wave Their sprays of gold and purple.
As if to beckon thee the way That Krishna passed but now ; lie is gone a little forward !
Though thy steps are faint for pleasure. Let him hear the tattling ripple Of the bangles round thy feet ;
Moving slowly o’er the blossoms
On the path which he has shown thee. That when he turns to listen
It may make his fond heart beat.
And loose thy jewelled girdle A little, that its rubies May tinkle softest music too,
And whisper thou art near;
92
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Though now, if in the forest
Thou should’st bend one blade of Kusha With silken touch of passing foot,
His heart would know and hear ;
Would hear the wood-buds saying,
“ It is Eadha’s foot that passes ; ”
Would hear the wind sigh love-sick,
“ It is Eadha’s fragrance, this ; ”
Would hear thine own heart beating Within thy panting bosom.
And know thee coming, coming,
His — ever, — ever — his !
“ Mine ! ” — hark ! we are near enough for hearing — “Soon she will come — she will smile — she will say Honey-sweet words of heavenly endearing ;
0 soul ! listen; my Bride is on her way!”
Hear’st him not, my Eadha ?
Lo, night bendeth o’er thee —
Darker than dark Tamala-leaves —
To list thy marriage-song ;
Dark as the touchstone that tries gold.
And see now — on before thee —
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
93
Those lines of tender light that creep The clouded sky along :
O night ! that trieth gold of love,
This love is proven perfect !
0 lines that streak the touchstone sky, Flash forth true shining gold !
O rose-leaf feet, go boldly !
O night ! — that lovest lovers —
Thy softest robe of silence About these bridals fold !
See’st thou not, my Eadha ?
Lo, the night, thy bridesmaid.
Comes ! — her eyes thick-painted With soorma of the gloom —
The night that binds the planet-worlds For jewels on her forehead,
And for emblem and for garland Loves the blue-black lotus-bloom ;
The night that scents her breath so sweet With cool and musky odours,
Tliat joys to spread her veil of shade Over the limbs of love ;
94
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
And when, with loving weary,
Yet dreaming love, they slumber.
Sets the far stars for silver lamps To light them from above.
So came she where he stood, awaiting her At the bower’s entry, like a god to see.
With marriage-gladness and the grace of heaven. The great pearl set upon his glorious head Shone like a moon among the leaves, and slione Like stars the gems that kept her gold gown close Lut stdl a little while she paused — abashed At lier delight, of her deep joy afraid —
And they that tended her sang once more this :
( What follows is to the Music Varadi and the Mode Rupaka.)
I'inter, thrice-happy ! enter, thrice-desired !
And let the gates of Hari shut thee in With the soul destined to thee from of old.
Tremble not ! lay thy lovely shame aside ;
Lay it aside with thine unfastened zone,
And love him with the love that knows not fear,
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
95
Because it fears not change ; enter thou in,
Flower of all sweet and stainless womanhood !
For ever to grow bright, for ever new ;
Enter beneath the flowers, 0 flower-fair !
Beneath these tendrils, Loveliest! that entwine And clasp, and wreathe and cling, with kissing stems 5
Enter, with tender-blowing airs of heaven,
Soft as love’s breath and gentle as the tones Of lover’s whispers, when the lips come close :
Enter the house of Love, 0 loveliest 1 Enter the marriage-bower, most beautiful !
And take and give the joy that Hari grants.
Thy heart has entered, let thy feet go too !
Lo, Krishna ! lo, the one that thirsts for thee !
Give him the drink of amrit from thy lips.
Then she, no more delaying, entered straight ;
Her step a little faltered, but her face Shone with unutterable quick love ; and — while
96
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Tlie music of her bangles passed the porch — Shame, which had lingered in her downcast eyes, Departed shamed* . . . and like the mighty deep, AVhich sees the moon and rises, all his life Uprose to drink her beams.
{Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled Eadhikamilane Sanandadamodaro.)
Hari keep you ! He whose might,
On the King of Serpents seated.
Flashes forth in dazzling light
From the Great Snake’s gems repeated : Hari keep you ! He whose graces, Manifold in majesty, —
Multiplied in heavenly places —
Multiply on earth — to see
* This complete anticipation {salajjd lajjdpi) of the line —
“ Upon whoso brow shamo is ashamed to sit" '
— occurs at the close of the Sarga, part of which is here perforce omitted, along with the whole of the last one.
THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Better with a hundred eyes
Her bright charms who by him lies.
JVhat skill may he in singing,
What worship sound in song, JVhat lore he taught in loving.
What right divined from v/rong: Such things hath Jayadeva —
In this his Hymn of Love,
Which lauds Govinda ever, — Displayed ; may all approve !
THE EXD OF THE INDIAN SOXG OF SONGS.
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MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL POEMS.
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( IO> )
THE RAJPOOT WIFE.
Sing something, Jymul Eao ! for the goats are gathered now.
And no more water is to bring ;
The village-gates are set, and the night is gray as yet, God hath given wondrous fancies to thee : — sing !
Then Jymul’s supple fingers, with a touch that doubts and lingers.
Sets athrill the saddest wire of all the six ;
And the girls sit in a tangle, and hush the tinkling bangle, While the boys pile the flame with store of sticks.
And vain of village praise, but full of ancient days.
He begins with a smile and with a sigh —
" ^Vho knows the babul-tree by the bend of the Eavee ? ’ Quoth Gunesh, “ I ! ” and twenty voices, “ I ! ”
102
THE RAJPOOT WIFE.
“ Well — listen ! there below, in the shade of bloom and bough,
Is a musjid of carved and coloured stone ;
And Abdool Shureef Khan — I spit, to name that man! — Lieth there, underneath, all alone.
“ He was Sultan Mahmood’s vassal, and wore an Amir’s tassel
In his green hadj-turban, at Nungul.
Yet the head which went so proud, it is not in his shcoud; There are bones in that grave, — but not a skull !
“ And, deep drove in his breast, there moulders with the rest
A dagger, brighter once than Chundra’s ray ;
A Itajpoot lohar whet it, and a Eajpoot woman set it Past the power of any hand to tear away.
“’Twas the Eanee Neila true, the wife of Soorj Dehu, Lord of the Eajpoots of Nourpoor;
You shall hear the mournful story, with its sorrow and its glory.
And curse Shureef Khan, — the soor 1 ”
THE RAJPOOT WIFE. 103
All in the wide Five-Waters was none like Soorj Doliu,
To foeman who so dreadful, to friend what heart so true?
Like Indus, through the mountains came down the Muslim ranks,
And town-walls fell before them as flooded river-banks;
But Soorj Dehu the Eajpoot owned neither town nor wall ;
Ilis house the camp, his roof-tree the sky that covers all ;
His seat of state the saddle; his robe a shirt of mail ;
His court a thousand Eajpoots close at his stallion’s tail.
Not less was Soorj a Eajah because no crown he wore
Save the grim helm of iron with sword-marks dinted o’er ;
Because he grasped no sceptre save the sharp tulwar, made
Of steel that fell from heaven, — for ’twas Indra forged
that blade !
104 THE RAJPOOT WIFE.
And many a starless midnight the shout of “ Soorj Dehu ”
Broke up with spear and matchlock the Muslim’s “Illahu.”
And many a day of battle upon the ^luslim proud
Fell Soorj, as Indra’s lightning falls from the silent cloud.
Nor ever shot nor arrow, nor spear nor shnger’s stone,
Could pierce the mail that Neila the Eanee buckled on :
But traitor’s subtle tongue-thrust through fence of steel can break ;
And Soorj was taken sleeping, whom none had ta’en awake.
Then at the noon, in durbar, swore fiercely Shureef Klian
That Soorj should die in torment, or live a Mussulman.
But Soorj laughed lightly at him, and answered, “Work your will !
The last breath of my body shall curse your Prophet still.”
With words of insult shameful, and deeds of cruel kind.
They vexed that Piajpoot’s body, but never moved his mind.
THE RAJPOOT WIFE. loj
And one is come who sayeth, “ Ho ! Rajpoots ! Soorj is bound ;
Your lord is caged and baited by Sliureef Khan, the hound.
“ The Khan hath caught and chained him, like a beast, in iron cage,
And all the camp of Islam spends on him spite and rage ; >
“ All day the coward ^luslims spend on him rage and spite ;
If ye have thought to help him, ’twere good ye go to- night.”
Up sprang a hundred horsemen, flashed in each hand a sword ;
In each heart burned the gladness of dying for their lord;
Up rose each Rajpoot rider, and buckled on with speed
The bridle-chain and breast-cord, and the saddle of his steed.
io6 THE RAJPOOT WIFE.
But unto none sad Neila gave word to mount and ride ;
Only she called the brothers of Soorj unto her side,
And said, “ Take order straightway to seek this camp with me ;
If love and craft can conquer, a thousand is as three.
“If love be weak to save him, Soorj dies — and ye return.
For where a Eajpoot dieth, the Eajpoot widows burn.”
Thereat the Eanee Neila unhraided from her hair
The pearls as great as Kashmir grapes Soorj gave his wife to wear,
And all across her bosoms — like lotus-buds to see —
She wrapped the tinselled sari of a dancing Kunchenee;
And fastened on her ankles the hundred silver bells.
To whose light laugh of music the Nautch-girl darts and dwells.
And all in dress a Nautch-girl, but all in heart a queen.
She set her foot to stirrup with a sad and settled mien.
THE RAJPOOT WIFE. 107
Only one thing she carried no Kunchenee should bear, The knife between her bosoms ; — ho, Shureef ! have a care !
Thereat, with running ditty of mingled pride and pity, Jymul Kao makes the six wires sigh ;
And the girls with tearful eyes note the music’s fall and rise.
And the hoys let the fire fade and die.
All day lay Soorj the Eajpoot in Shureef’s iron cage.
All day the coward Muslims spent on him spite and rage.
With bitter cruel torments, and deeds of shameful kind.
They racked and broke his body, but could not shake his mind.
And only at the Azan, when all their worst was vain.
They left him, like dogs slinking from a lion in his pain.
No meat nor drink they gave him through all that burning day.
And done to death, but scornful, at twilight- time he lay.
io8
THE RAJPOOT WIFE.
So when the gem of Shiva uprose, the shining moon,
Soorj spake unto his spirit, “ The end is coming soon.
“ I would the end might hasten, could Neila only know —
"\Miat is that Nautch-girl singing with voice so known and low ?
“ Singing beneath the cage-bars the song of love and fear
My Neila sang at parting ! — what doth that Nautch-girl here?
"Whence comes she by the music of Neila’s tender strain,
She, in that shameless tinsel ? — 0 Nautch-girl, sing again ! ”
“ Ah, Soorj ! ” — so followed answer — “ here thine own Neila stands,
Faithful in life and death alike, — look up, and take my hands :
“ Speak low, lest the guard hear us ; — to-night, if thou must die,
Shureef shall have no triumph, but bear thee company.”
THE RAJPOOT WIFE.
109
So sansj she like the Koil that dies beside its mate ; With eye as black and fearless, and love as hot and great.
Then the Chief laid his pale lips upon the little palm, And sank down with a smile of love, his face all glad and calm ;
And through the cage-bars Neila felt the brave heart
O O
stop fast,
“0 Soorj!” — she cried — “I follow! have patience to the last.”
She turned and went. “ Who passes? ” challenged the Mussulman ;
“A Nautch-girl, I.” — “What seek’st thou?” — “The presence of the Khan ;
“ Ask if the high chief-captain be pleased to hear me sing;”
And Shureef, full of feasting, the Kunchenee bade bring.
Then, all before the IMuslims, aflame with lawless wine. Entered the Eanee Neila, in grace and face divine ;
no THE RAJPOOT WIFE.
And all before the Muslims, wagging their goatish chins, The Eajpoot Princess set her to the “bee-dance” that begins,
“ If my love loved me, he should he a hee,
I the yellow chamjpak, love the honey of me."
All the wreathed movements danced she of that dance ; Not a step she slighted, not a wanton glance ;
In her unveiled bosom chased th’ intruding bee.
To her waist — and lower — she ! a Eajpoot, she !
Sang the melting music, swayed the languorous limb : Shureef’s drunken heart beat — Shureef’s eyes waxed dim.
Prom his finger Shureef loosed an Ormuz pearl —
“ By the Prophet,” quoth he, “ ’tis a winsome girl !
“ Take this ring ; and ’prithee, come and have thy pay, I would hear at leisure more of sucli a lay.”
Glared his eyes on her eyes, passing o’er the plain, Glared at the tent-purdah — never glared again !
Ill
THE RAJPOOT WIFE.
Never opened after unto gaze or glance,
Eyes that saw a Eajpoot dance a shameful dance ;
For the kiss she gave him was his first and last —
Kiss of dagger, driven to his heart, and past.
At her feet he wallowed, choked with wicked blood ;
In his breast the katar quivered where it stood.
At the hilt his fingers vainly — wildly — try.
Then they stiffen feeble ; — die ! thou slayer, die !
From his jewelled scabbard drew she Shureef’s sword, Cut atwain the neck-bone of the Muslim lord.
Underneath the starlight, — sooth, a sight of dread !
Like the Goddess Kali, comes she with the head.
Comes to where her brothers guard their murdered chief; All the camp is silent, but the night is brief.
At his feet she flings it, flings her burden vile ;
“ Soorj ! I keep my promise ! Brothers, build the pile ! ”
112
THE RAJPOOT WIFE.
They have built it, set it, all as Eajpoots do,
From the cage of iron taken Soorj Dehu ;
In the lap of Neila, seated on the pile.
Laid his head — she radiant, like a queen the while.
Then the lamp is lighted, and the ghee is poured —
“ Soorj, we burn together : 0 my love, my lord ! ”
In the flame and crackle dies her tender tongue.
Dies the Kanee, truest, all true wives among.
At the morn a clamour runs from tent to tent,
Like the wild geese cackling when the night is spent.
“ Shureef Khan lies headless ! gone is Soorj Dehu !
And the wandering Nautch-girl, who has seen her, who ?”
This but know the sentries, at the “ breath of dawn ” Forth there fared two horsemen, by the first was borne
The urn of clay, the vessel that Eajpoots use to bring The ashes of dead kinsmen to Gungas’ holy spring.
( 113 )
KJNG SALADIN.
Long years ago — so tells Boccaccio In such Italian gentleness of speech As finds no echo in this northern air To counterpart its music — long ago,
When Saladin was Soldan of the East,
The kings let cry a general crusade ;
And to the trystiug-plains of Lombardy The idle lances of the North and West Bode all that spring, as aU the spring runs down Into a lake, from all its hanging hills.
The clash and glitter of a hundred streams.
Whereof the rumour reached to Saladin ;
And that swart king — as royal in his heart As any crowned champion of the Cross —
That he might fuUy, of his knowledge, learn The purpose of the lords of Christendom,
II
KING SALADIN.
And when their war and what their armament, Took thought to cross the seas to Lombardy. "Wherefore, with wise and trustful Amirs twain, AU habited in garbs that merchants use,
With trader’s band and gipsire on the breasts That best loved mail and dagger, Saladin Set forth upon his journey perilous.
In that day, lordly land was Lombardy !
A sea of country-plenty, islanded With cities rich ; nor richer one than thee.
Marble Milano ! from whose gate at dawn—
With ear that little recked the matin-bell.
But a keen eye to measure wall and foss —
The Soldan rode ; and all day long he rode For Pavia ; passing basilic, and shrine.
And gaze of vineyard-workers, wotting not Yon trader was the Lord of Heathenesse.
All day he rode ; yet at the wane of day Xo gleam of gate, or ramp, or rising spire,
Xor Tessin’s sparkle underneath the stars Promised him Pavia ; but he was ’ware Of a gay company upon the way.
Ladies and lords, with horses, hawks, and hounds ;
KING SALADIN.
i>5
Cap-plumes aud tresses fluttered by tbe wind Of merry race for home. “ Go ! ” said the king To one that rode upon his better hand,
“ And pray these gentles of their courtesy How many leagues to Pavia, and the gates "What hour they close them ? ” Then the Saracen Set spur, and being joined to him that seemed First of the hunt, he told the message — they Checking the jangling bits, and chiding down The unfinished laugh to listen — but by this Came up the king, his bonnet in his hand,
Tlieirs doffed to him : “ Sir Trader,” Torel said (Messer ToreUo ’twas, of Istria),
“ They shut the Pavian gate at even-song.
And even-song is sung.” Then turning half. Muttered, “ Pardie, the man is worshipful,
A stranger too !” “Fair lord!” quoth Saladin,
“ Please you to stead some weary travellers. Saying where we may lodge, the town so far And night so near.” “ Of my heart, willingly,” Made answer Torel, “ I did think but now To send my knave an errand — he shall ride And bring you into lodgment — oh ! no thanks.
KING SALADIN.
1 16
Our Lady keep you !” then with whispered best He called their guide and sped them. Being gone, Torello told his purpose, and the hand,
With ready zeal and loosened bridle-chains, liode for his hunting-palace, where they set A goodly banquet underneath the planes,
And hung the house with guest-lights, and anon Welcomed the wondering strangers, thereto led Unwitting, by a world of winding paths;
Messer Torello, at the inner gate.
Waiting to take them in — a goodly host.
Stamped current with God’s image for a man Chief among men, truthful, and just, and free.
Then he, “Well met again, fair sirs! Our knave Hath found you shelter better than the worst :
Please you to leave your selles, and being bathed, Grace our poor supper here.” Then Saladin,
Whose sword had yielded ere his courtesy. Answered, “ Great thanks. Sir Knight, and this much blame.
You spoil us for our trade ! two bonnets doffed.
And travellers’ questions holding you afield.
For those you give us this.” “ Sir 1 not your meed.
KING SALADIN.
117
Xor worthy of your breeding ; but in sooth That is not out of Pavia.” Thereupon He led them to fair chambers decked with all flakes tired men glad ; lights, and the marble bath, And flasks that sparkled, liquid amethyst.
And grapes, not dry as yet from evening dew.
Thereafter at the supper-board they sat ;
Nor lacked it, though its guest was reared a king. Worthy provend in crafts of cookery,
Pastel, pasticcio — all set forth on gold ;
And gracious talk and pleasant courtesies.
Spoken in stately Latin, cheated time Till there was none but held the stranger-sir.
For all his chapman’s dress of cramasie.
Goodlier than silks could make him. Presently Talk rose upon the Holy Sepulchre :
“ I go myself,” said Torel, “ with a score Of better knights — the flower of Pavia —
To try our steel against King Saladin’s.
Sirs ! ye have seen the countries of the Sun,
Know you the Soldan ? ” Answer gave the king,
“ The Soldan we have seen — ’twill push him hard If, which I nothing doubt, you Pavian lords
ii8
KING SAL A DIN.
Are valorous as gentle ; — we, alas !
Are Cyprus merchants making trade to France — Dull sons of Peace.” “ By Mary ! ” Torel cried,
“ But for thy word, I ne’er heard speech so fit To lead the war, nor saw a hand that sat Biker a soldier’s in the sabre’s place ;
But sure I hold you sleepless!” Then himself Playing the chamberlain, with torches borne.
Led them to restful beds, commending them To sleep and God, Who hears — Allah or God — When good men do his creatures charities.
At dawn the cock, and neigh of saddled steeds, Broke the king’s dreams of battle — not their own. But goodly jennets from Torello’s stalls, Caparisoned to hear them ; he their host Up, with a gracious radiance like the sun.
To bid them speed. Beside him in the court Stood Dame Adalieta ; comely she.
And of her port as queenly, and serene As if the braided gold about her brows Had been a crown. Mutual good-morrow given. Thanks said and stayed, the lady prayed her guest To take a token of his sojourn there,
KING SALADIN.
119
^Mat-king her good-will, not liis worthiness ;
“ A sown of miniver — these furbelows Are silk I spun — my lord wears ever such —
A housewife’s gift ! but those ye love are far;
Wear it as given for them.” Then Saladin —
“ A precious gift, IMadonna, past my thanks ;
And — but thou shalt not hear a ‘ no ’ from me —
Past my receiving ; yet I take it ; we Were debtors to your noble courtesy Out of redemption — this but bankrupts us.”
“ Nay, sir, — God shield you ! ” said the knight and dame. And Saladin, with phrase of gentilesse Eeturned, or ever that he rode alone.
Swore a great oath in guttural Arabic,
An oath by Allah — startling up the ears Of those three Christian cattle they bestrode —
That never yet was princelier-natured man.
Nor gentler lady ; — and that time should see For a king’s lodging quittance royal repaid.
It was the day of the Passaggio :
Ashore the war-steeds champed the burnished bit ;
120
KING SALADIN.
Afloat the galleys tugged the mooring-chain :
The town was out ; the Lombard armourers —
Eed-hot with riveting the helmets up,
And whetting axes for the heathen heads —
Cooled in the crowd that filled the squares and streets To speed God’s soldiers. At the none that day ^Messer Torello to the gate came down,
Leading his lady ; — sorrow’s hueless rose Grew on her cheek, and thrice the destrier Struck fire, impatient, from the pavement-squares,
Or ere she spoke, tears in her lifted eyes,
“ Goest thou, lord of mine ? ” “ Madonna, yes ! ”
Said Torel, “ for my soul’s weal and the Lord Hide I to-day : my good name and my house Eeliant I intrust thee, and — because It may be they shall slay me, and because,
Being so young, so fair, and so reputed.
The noblest will entreat thee — wait for me.
Widow or wife, a year, and month, and day ;
Then if thy kinsmen press thee to a choice,
And if I be not come, hold me for dead ;
Nor link thy blooming beauty with the grave Against thine heart.” “ Good my lord ! ” answered she.
KL\G SALADIN.
121
“ Hardly my heart sustains to let thee go ;
Thy memory it can keep, and keep it will,
Though my one lord, Torel of Istria,
Live, or ” “Sweet, comfort thee! San Pietro
speed 1
I shall come home : if not, and worthy knees Bend for this hand, whereof none worthy lives,
Least he who lays his last kiss thus upon it.
Look thee, I free it ” “ Nay ! ” she said, “ but I,
A petulant slave that hugs her golden chain.
Give that gift back, and with it this poor ring:
Set it upon thy sword-hand, and in fight Be merciful and win, thinking of me.”
Then she, with pretty action, drawing on Her ruby, buckled over it his glove —
The great steel glove — and through the helmet bars Took her last kiss ; — then let the chafing steed Have its hot will and go.
But Saladin,
Safe back among his lords at Lebanon,
Well wotting of their quest, awaited it.
And held the Crescent up against the Cross.
Tu many a doughty fight Ferrara blades
122
KING S ALA DIN.
Clashed with keen Damasc, many a weary month AVasted afield ; but yet the Christians AVon nothing nearer to Christ’s sepulchre;
Nay, but gave ground. At last, in Acre pent.
On their loose files, enfeebled by the war.
Came stronger smiter than the Saracen —
The deadly Pest : day after day they died, Pikeman and knight-at-arms ; day after day A thinner line upon the leaguered wall Held off the heathen : — held them off a space ; Then, over-weakened, yielded, and gave up The city and the stricken garrison.
So to sad chains and hateful servitude Fell all those purple lords — Christendom’s stars, Once high in hope as soaring Lucifer,
Now low as sinking Hesper: with them fell Messer Torello — never one so poor Of all the hundreds that his bounty fed As he in prison — ill-entreated, bound,
Starved of sweet light, and set to shameful tasks ; And that great load at heart to know the days Fast flying, and to live accounted dead.
One joy his gaolers left him, — his good liawk ;
KING SALADIN.
123
The brave, gay bird that crossed the seas with him : And often, in the mindful hour of eve.
With tameless eye and spirit masterful,
111 a feigned anger checking at his hand.
The good gray falcon made his master cheer.
One day it chanced Saladin rode afield
With shawled and turbaned Amirs, and his hawks —
Lebanon-bred, and mewed as princes lodge —
Flew foul, forgot their feather, hung at wrist.
And slighted call. The Soldan, quick in wrath. Bade slay the cravens, scourge the falconer.
And seek some wight who knew the heart of hawks. To keep it hot and true. Then spake a Sheikh —
“ There is a Frank in prison by the sea.
Far-seen herein.” “ Give word that he be brought,” Quoth Saladin, “ and bid him set a cast :
If he hath skill, it shall go well for him.”
Thus by the winding path of circumstance One palace held, as prisoner and prince,
Torello and his guest : unwitting each,
Isay and unwitting, though they met and spake
124
KING SAL A DIN.
Of that goshawk and this — signors in serge,
And chapmen crowned, who knows ? — till on a time Some trick of face, the manner of some smile.
Some gleam of sunset from the glad day gone.
Caught the king’s eye, and held it. “Xazarene !
"V^Qiat native art thou ? ” asked he. “ Lombard I,
A man of Pavia.” “ And thy name ? ” “ Torel,
Messer Torello called in happier times.
Now best uncalled.” “ Come hither, Christian 1 ”
The Soldan said, and led the way, by court And hall and fountain, to an inner room Pdch with king’s robes : therefrom he reached a gown. And “ Know’st thou this ? ” he asked. “ High lord ! I might
Elsewhere,” quoth Torel, “ here ’twere mad to say Yon gown my wife unto a trader gave Who shared our board.” “ Nay, but that gown is this. And she the giver, and the trader I,”
(Juoth Saladin ; “ I ! twice a king to-day.
Owing a royal debt and paying it.”
Then Torel, sore amazed, “ Great lord, I blush, Pemembering how the Master of the East r^odged sorrily.” “ It’s Master’s Master thou ! ”
KING SALADIN.
I
Gave answer Saladin, “ come in and see What wares the Cyprus traders keep at home ; Come forth and take thy place, Saladin’s friend.” Tlierewith into the circle of his lords,
With gracious mien the Soldan led his slave ;
And while the dark eyes glittered, seated him First of the full divan. “ Orient lords,”
So spake he, — “ let the one who loves his king Honour this Frank, whose house sheltered your kin He is my brother ; ” then the night-black beards Swept the stone floor in ready reverence,
Agas and Amirs welcoming Torel :
And a great feast was set, the Soldan’s friend Eoyally garbed, upon the Soldan’s hand.
Shining the bright star of the banqueters.
All which, and the abounding grace and love Shown him by Saladin, a little held The heart of Torel from its Lombard home With Dame Adalieta : but it chanced He sat beside the king in audience,
And there came one who said, “ Oh, Lord of lords.
126
KING SALADIN.
That galley of the Genovese which sailed With Frankish prisoners is gone down at sea.”
“ Gone down ! ” cried Torel. “ Ay ! what recks it, friend,
To fall thy visage for ? ” quoth Saladin ;
“ One galley less to ship-stuffed Genoa ! ”
“ Good my liege ! Torel said, “ it bore a scroll Inscribed to Pavia, saying that I lived ;
For in a year, a month, and day, not come,
I bade them hold me dead ; and dead I am,
Albeit living, if my lady wed.
Perchance constrained.” “ Certes,” spake Saladin,
“ A noble dame — the like not won, once lost —
How many days remain ? ” “ Ten days, my prince,
And twelvescore leagues between my heart and me ; Alas ! how to be passed ? ” Then Saladin —
“ Lo ! I am loath to lose thee — wilt thou swear To come again if all go well with thee.
Or come ill speeding?” “Yea, I swear, my king, Out of true love,” quoth Torel, “ heartfully.”
Then Saladin, “ Take here my signet-seal ;
IMy admiral will loose his swiftest soil Upon its sight; and cleave the seas, and go
KING SALADIN.
127
Aud clip thy dame, and say the Trader sends A gift, remindful of her courtesies.”
Passed were the year, and month, and day ; and passed Out of all hearts but one Sir Torel’s name,
Long given for dead by ransomed Pavians :
For Pavia, thoughtless of her Eastern graves,
A lovely widow, much too gay for grief.
Made peals from half a hundred campaniles To ring a wedding in. The seven bells Of Santo Pietro, from the nones to noon.
Boomed with bronze throats the happy tidings out ;
Till the great tenor, overswelled with sound.
Cracked itself dumb. Thereat the sacristan.
Leading his swinkM ringers down the stairs.
Came blinking into sunlight — all his keys Jingling their little peal about his belt —
Whom, as he tarried, locking up the porch,
A foreign signor, browned with southern suns,
Turbaned and sKppered, as the Muslims use,
I’lucked by the cope. “Friend,” quoth he — 'twas a tongue
Italian true, but in a [Muslim mouth —
“ Why are your belfries busy — is it peace
128
KING SALADIN.
Or victory, that so ye din the ears Of Pavian lieges ? ” “ Truly, no liege thou ! ”
Grunted the sacristan, “ who knowest not
That Dame Adalieta weds to-night
Her fore-betrothed, — Sir Torel’s widow she,
•That died i’ the chain ? ” “ To-night ! ” the stranger said.
“ Ay, sir, to-night ! — why not to-night ? — to-night !
And you shall see a goodly Christian feast If so you pass their gates at even-song.
For all are asked.”
Xo more the questioner,
But folded o'er his face the Eastern hood,
Lest idle eyes should mark how idle words
Had struck him home. “ So quite forgot ! — so soon ! —
And this the square wherein I gave the joust,
And that the loggia, where I fed the poor ;
And yon my palace, where — oh, fair ! oh, false ! —
They robe her for a bridal. Can it be ?
Clean out of heart, with twice six flying moons.
The heart that beat on mine as it would break.
That faltered forty oaths. Forced ! forced ! — not false — Well ! I will sit, wife, at thy wedding- feast,
And let mine eyes give my fond faith the lie.”
KING SALADIN.
129
So in the stream of gallant guests that flowed Feastward at eve, went Torel ; passed with them The outer gates, crossed the great courts with them, A stranger in the walls that called him lord.
Cressets and coloured lamps made the way bright, And rose-leaves strewed to where within the doors The master of the feast, the bridegroom, stood, A-glitter from his forehead to his foot,
Speaking fair welcomes. lie, a courtly lord, ^Marking the Eastern guest, bespoke him sweet. Prayed place for him, and bade them set his seat Upon the dais. Then the feast began.
And wine went free as wit, and music died — Outdone by merrier laughter : — only one Xor ate nor drank, nor spoke nor smiled ; but gazed On the pale bride, pale as her crown of pearls,
Who sate so cold and still, and sad of cheer.
At the bride-feast.
But of a truth, Torel
Bead the thoughts right that held her eyelids down. And knew her loyal to her memories.
Then to a little page who bore the wine.
He spake, “ Go tell thy lady thus from me :
I
130
KING SALADIN.
In mine own land, if any stranger sit A wedding-guest, the bride, out of her grace,
In token that she knows her guest’s good-will,
In token she repays it, brims a cup.
Wherefrom he drinking she in turn doth drink ;
So is our use.” The little page made speed And told the message. Then that lady pale —
Ever a gentle and a courteous heart —
Lifted her troubled eyes and smiled consent On the swart stranger. By her side, untouched.
Stood the brimmed gold; “Bear this,” she said, “and pray He hold a Christian lady apt to learn A kindly lesson ” But Sir Torel loosed From off his finger — never loosed before —
The ring she gave him on the parting day ;
And ere he drank, behind his veil of beard Dropped in the cup the ruby, quaffed, and sent. —
Then she, with sad smile, set her lips to drink.
And — something in the Cyprus touching them.
Glanced — gazed — the ring! — her ring! — Jove! how she eyes
The wistful eyes of Torel ! — how, heartsure.
Under all guise knowing her lord returned,
KING SALADIN.
She springs to meet him coming ! — telling all In one great cry of joy.
0 me ! the rout,
Tlie storm of questions ! stilled, when Torel spake His name, and, known of all, claimed the Bride Wife, ^laugre the wasted feast, and woful groom.
All hearts but his were light to see Torel ;
But Adalieta’s lightest, as she plucked The bridal-veil away. Something therein —
A lady’s dagger — small, and bright, and fine — Clashed out upon the marble. “ Wherefore that ? ” Asked Torel ; answered she, “ I knew you true ;
And I could live, so long as I might wait ;
But they — they pressed me hard ! my days of grace Ended to-night — and I had ended too.
Faithful to death, if so thou hadst not come.”
( 132 )
THE CALIPH'S DRAUGHT.
Upon a day in Eamadan —
When sunset brought an end of fast,
And in his station every man
Prepared to share the glad repast —
Sate Mohtasim in royal state,
The pillaw smoked upon the gold ;
The fairest slave of those that wait Mohtasim’s jewelled cup did hold.
Of crystal carven was the cup,
With turquoise set along the brim,
A lid of amber closed it up ;
’Twas a great king that gave it him.
The slave poured sherbet to the brink, Stirred in wild honey and pomegranate, Witli snow and rose-leaves cooled the drink.
And bore it where the Caliph sate.
THE CALIPH'S DRAUGHT.
133
The Caliph’s mouth was dry as bone,
He swept his beard aside to quaff : —
The news-reader beneath the throne,
AVent droning on with ghain and kaf. — The Caliph drew a mighty breath.
Just then the reader read a word —
And Mobtasim, as grim as death.
Set down the cup and snatched his sword.
'‘Ann' amratan shureefatee !”
“ Speak clear ! ” cries angry Mobtasim ; “ Fe lasr ind’ ilj min nlji” —
Trembling the newsman read to him How in Ammoria, far from home.
An Arab girl of noble race A\'’as captive to a lord of Eoum ;
And how he smote her on the face,
And how she cried, for life afraid,
“ Ya, Mobtasim ! help, 0 my king ! ” And how the Kafir mocked the maid. And laughed, and spake a bitter thing.
134
THE CALIPH'S DRAUGHT.
“ Call louder, fool ! Mohtasim’s ears Are long as Barak’s — if he heed — Your prophet’s ass ; and when he hears, He’ll come upon a spotted steed ! ”
The Caliph’s face was stern and red.
He snapped the lid upon the cup ;
“ Keep this same sherbet, slave,” he said, “ Till such time as I drink it up. Wallah ! the stream my drink shall be. My hollowed palm my only bowl.
Till I have set that lady free,
And seen that Koumi dog’s head roll.”
At dawn the drums of war were beat. Proclaiming, “ Thus saith Mohtasim, ‘ Let all my valiant horsemen meet. And every soldier bring with him A spotted steed.’ ” So rode they forth, A sight of marvel and of fear ;
Pied horses prancing fiercely north ; The crystal cup home in the rear !
THE CALIPH'S DRAUGHT.
13
When to Ammoria he did win,
He smote and drove the dogs of Iloum, And rode his spotted stallion in.
Crying, “ Lalibayki ! I am come ! ”
Then downward from her prison-place Joyful the Arab lady crept ;
She held her hair before her face.
She kissed his feet, she laughed and wept.
She pointed where that lord was laid :
They drew him forth, he whined for grace ; Then w’ith fierce eyes Mohtasim said —
“ She whom thou smotest on the face Had scorn, because she called her king :
Lo ! he is come ! and dost thou think To live, who didst this bitter thing While ^lohtasim at peace did drink ? ”
Flashed the fierce sword — rolled the lord’s head ;
The wicked blood smoked in the sand.
“ Now bring my cup ! ” the Caliph said.
Lightly he took it in his hand.
ij6 THE CALIPH'S DRAUGHT.
As down his throat the sweet drink ran Mohtasim in his saddle laughed,
And cried, “ Taiha asshrah alan !
By God ! delicious is this draught ! ”
( 137 )
HINDOO FUNERAL SONG.
Call on Eama ! call to Kama !
Oh, my brothers, call on Rama !
For this Dead Whom we bring,
Call aloud to mighty Eama.
As we bear him, oh, my brothers. Call together, very loudly.
That the Bhuts May be scared ;
That his spirit pass in comfort.
Turn his feet now, calling “ Eama,” Calling “ Eama,” who shall take him When the flames Make an end :
Earn ! Earn ! — oh, call to Eama.
( 138 )
\
SONG OF THE SERPENT- CHARMERS.
Come forth, oh, Snake ! come forth, oh, glittering Snake ! Oh shining, lovely, deadly Nag ! appear,
Dance to the music that we make.
This serpent-song, so sweet and clear.
Blown on the beaded gourd, so clear.
So soft and clear.
Oh, dread Lord Snake ! come forth and spread thy hood, And drink the milk and suck the eggs ; and show Thy tongue ; and own the tune is good :
Hear, Maharaj ! how hard we blow !
Ah, Maharaj ! for thee we blow ;
See how we blow !
SONG OF THE SERPENT-CHARMERS. 139
Great Uncle Snake ! creep forth and dance to-day ! This music is the music snakes love best ;
Taste the warm white new milk, and play Standing erect, with fangs at rest.
Dancing on end, sharp fangs at rest,
Fierce fangs at rest.
Ah, wise Lord Nag! thou comest! — Fear thou not! We make salaam to thee, the Serpent- King,
Draw forth thy folds, knot after knot;
Dance, Master! while we softly sing;
Dance, Serpent ! while we play and sing.
We play and sing.
Dance, dreadful King ! whose kisses strike men dead ; Dance this side, mighty Snake ! the milk is here !
[They seize the Cobra by the neck.'\
Ah, shabash ! pin his angry head !
Thou fool ! this nautch shall cost thee dear ; Wrench forth his fangs ! this piping clear,
It costs thee dear !
( 140 )
SONG OF THE FLOUR-MILL.
Turn the merry mill-stone, Gunga !
Pour the golden grain in ;
Those that twist the Churrak fastest The cakes soonest win :
Good stones, turn !
The fire begins to burn ;
Gunga, stay not !
The hearth is nearly hot.
Grind the hard gold to silver,
Sing quick to the stone ;
Peed its mouth with dal and bajri,
It will feed us anon.
Sing, Gunga 1 to the mill-stone,
It helps the wheel hum ;
SONG OF THE FLOUR-MILL.
14'
lilithesome hearts and willing elbows Make the fine meal come : Handsfiil three h'or you and for me ;
Now it falls white,
Good stones, bite !
Drive it round and round, my Gunga !
Sing soft to the stone ;
Better corn and churrak-working Thau idleness and none.
( M2 )
TAZA BA TAZA.
Akbar sate high in the ivory hall,
His chief musician he bade them call ; Sing, said the king, that song of glee, Taza ha taza, now ha now.
Sing me that music sweet and free, Taza ha taza, now ha now ;
Here by the fountain sing it tliou, Taza ha taza, now ha now.
Bending full low, his minstrel took The Vina down from its painted nook, Swept the strings of silver so Taza ha taza, now ha now ; kfade the gladsome Vina go T aza ha taza, noiv ha now ;
TAZA BA TAZA.
'43
Sang with light strains and brightsome brow Taza ha taza, now ha now.
“ What is the lay for love most fit ?
What is the melody echoes it ?
Ever in tune and ever meet,
Taza ha taza, now ha now ;
Ever delightful and ever sweet Taza ha taza, now ha now ;
Soft as the murmur of love’s first vow,
Taza ha taza, now ha now.”
“ What is the bliss that is best on earth ?
Lovers’ light whispers and tender mirth ;
Bright gleams the sun on the Green Sea’s isle,
But a brighter light has a woman’s smile :
Ever, like sunrise, fresh of hue,
Taza ha taza, now ha now ;
Ever, like sunset, splendid and new,
Taza ha taza, now ha now.”
“ Thereunto groweth the graceful vine
To cool the lips of lovers with wine.
144
TAZA BA TAZA.
Haste thee and bring the amethyst cup, That happy lovers may drink it up ; And so renew their gentle play,
Taza ha tarn, now ha now ;
Ever delicious and new alway,
Taza ha taza, now ha now.”
“ Thereunto sigheth the evening gale To freshen the cheeks which love made pale ; This is why hloometh the scented flower.
To gladden with grace love’s secret bower : Love is the zephyr that always blows,
Taza ha taza, now ha now ;
Love is the rose-bloom that ever glows,
Taza ha taza, notv ha now.”
Akbar, the mighty one, smiled to hear The musical strain so soft and clear ; Danced the diamonds over his brow To taza ha taza, now ha now :
Ilis lovely ladies rocked in a row To taza ha taza, now ha now ;
TAZA BA TAZA.
«45
Livelier sparkled the fountain’s flow, Boose sittan ba kaum uzo ;
Swifter and sweeter the strings did go, Mutrih % khooshnud wa bejo ;
Xever such singing w^as heard, 1 trow ; Taza ba taza, now ba now.
K
( 146 )
THE MUSSULMAN PARADISE.
{From the Arabic of the Fifty-sixth Surat of the Koran, entitled “ The Inevitable")
When the Day of Wrath and Mercy cometh, none shall doubt it come ;
Unto hell some it shall lower, and exalt to heaven some.
When the Earth with great shocks shaketh, and the mountains crumble flat,
Quick and Dead shall be divided fourfold : — on this side and that.
The “ Companions of the Eight Hand ” (ah ! how joyful they will be !)
The “ Companions of the Left Hand ” (oh ! what misery to see !)
THE MUSSULMAN PARADISE.
147
Such, moreover, as of old times loved the truth, and
. taught it well.
First in faith, they shall be foremost in reward. The rest to hell.
But those souls attaining Allah, oh ! the Gardens of good cheer
Kept to bless them ! Yea, besides the “ faithful,” many shall be there.
Lightly lying on soft couches, beautiful with ’broidered gold.
Friends with friends, they shall be served by youths immortal, who shall hold
“ Akwdb, abareek" — cups and goblets, brimming with celestial wine.
Wine that hurts not head or stomach : this and fruits of heav’n which shine
Bright, desirable ; and rich flesh of what birds they relish best.
Yea! and — feasted — there shall soothe them damsels fairest, stateliest ;
.THE MUSSULMAN PARADISE.
Damsels, having eyes of wonder, large black eyes, like hidden pearls,
“ Lulu-l-maknun ” : Allah grants them for sweet love those matchless girls.
Never in that Garden hear they speech of folly, sin, or dread,
Only Peace; “ SALAMUN” only; that one word for ever said.
Peace ! Peace ! Peace ! — and the “ Companions of the Eight Hand ” (ah ! those bowers !)
They shall lodge ’mid thornless lote-groves ; under mawz-trees thick with flowers ;
Shaded, fed, by flowing waters; near to fruits that never cloy.
Hanging ever ripe for plucking ; and at hand the tender joy
Of those Maids of Heaven — the Hflris. Lo ! to these we gave a birth
Specially creating. Lo ! they are not as the wives of
earth.
THE MUSSULMAN PARADISE.
149
Ever virginal and stainless, howsooften they embrace, Always young, and loved, and loving, these are. Neither is there grace
Like the grace and bliss the Black-eyed keep for you in Paradise ;
Oh, “ Companions of the Right Hand ” ! oh ! ye others who were wise !
( ISO )
DEDICA TION OF A POEM FROM THE SANSKRIT.
Sweet, on the daisies of your Englisn grave I lay this little wreath of Indian flowers,
Fragrant for me because the scent they have Breathes of the memory of our wedded hours ;
For others scentless ; and for you, in heaven.
Too pale and faded, dear dead wife ! to wear.
Save that they mean — what makes aU fault forgiven — That he who brings them lays his heart, too, there.
April 9, 1865.
( 151 )
THE RAJAH'S RIDE.
A PUNJAB SONG.
Xow is the Devil-horse come to Sindh 1 Wall ! wall ! gooroo ! — that is true !
llis belly is stuffed with the fire and the wind, But a fleeter steed had Eunjeet Dehu !
It’s forty koss from Lahore to the ford,
Lorty and more to far Jummoo ;
Last may go the Feringhee lord.
But never so fast as Eunjeet Dehu !
Eunjeet Dehu was King of the Hill,
Lord and eagle of every crest;
Kow the swords and the spears are still,
God will have it — and God knows best 1
152
THE RAJAH'S RIDE.
Kajah Eunjeet sate in the sky,
Watching the loaded Kafilas in ;
Affghan, Kashmeree, passing by,
I’aid him pushm to save their skin.
Once he caracoled into the plain,
Wah ! the sparkle of steel on steel !
And up the pass came singing again With a lakh of silver borne at his heel.
Once he trusted the Mussulman’s word,
Wah ! wah ! trust a liar to lie !
Down from his eyrie they tempted my Bird, And clipped his wings that he could not tly.
Fettered him fast in far Lahore,
Fast by the gate at the Eunchenee Eul ;
Sad was the soul of Chuuda Kour,
Glad the merchants of rich Kurnool.
Ten months Eunjeet lay in Lahore —
Wah ! a hero’s lieart is brass !
Ten months never did Chunda Kour Braid her hair at the tiring-glass.
THE RAJAH'S RIDE.
•33
There came a steed from Toorkistan,
Wall ! God made him to match the hawk !
Fast beside him the four grooms ran,
To keep abreast of the Toorkman’s walk.
Black as the bear on Iskardoo ;
Savage at heart as a tiger chained ;
Fleeter than hawk that ever flew,
Xever a ]\Iuslim could ride him reined.
“ Eunjeet Dehu ! come forth from thy hold”- — Wah ! ten months had rusted his chain !
“ Eide this Sheitan’s liver cold ” —
Eunjeet twisted his hand in the mane.
Eunjeet sprang to the Toorkman’s back,
Wah ! a king on a kingly throne !
Snort, black Sheitan ! tiU nostrils crack,
Eajah Eunjeet sits, a stone.
Three times round the Maidan he rode, Touched its neck at the Kashmeree wall.
Struck the spurs till they spirted blood.
Leapt the rampart before them all !
I
154
THE RAJAH'S RIDE.
Breasted the waves of the blue Eavee,
Forty horsemen mounting behind.
Forty bridle-chains flung free, —
Wah ! wah ! better chase the wind!
Chunda Kour sate sad in Jummoo : —
Hark ! what horse-hoof echoes without ?
“ Rise ! and welcome Eunjeet Dehu —
Wash the Toorkman’s nostrils out 1
“ Forty koss he has come, my life !
Forty koss back he must carry me ;
Eajah Eunjeet visits his wife,
He steals no steed like an Afreedee.
“ They bade me teach them how to ride — Wah 1 wah 1 now I have taught them well Chunda Kour sank low at his side !
Eajah Eunjeet rode the hill.
When he came back to far Lahore —
Long or ever the night began —
Spake he, “ Take your horse once more,
He carries well — when he bears a man.”
THE RAJAH'S RIDE.
155
Then they gave him a khillut and gold, All for his honom’ and grace and truth ; Sent him back to his mountain-hold — Muslim manners have touch of ruth ;
Sent him back, with dances and drum — Wall ! my Eajah Eunjeet Dehu !
To Chunda Kour and his Jummoo home — Wall ! wah ! futtee ! — wah, gooroo !
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TIVO BOOKS FROM THE ILIAD OF INDIA.
{Now for the first time translated.)
There exist certain colossal, unparalleled, epic poems in the sacred language of India, which were not known to Europe, even by name, till Sir William Jones an- nounced their existence; and which, since his time, liave been made public only by fragments — by mere specimens — bearing to those vast treasures of Sanskrit literature such small proportion as cabinet samples of ore have to the riches of a mine. Yet these twain mighty poems contain all the history of ancient India, so far as it can be recovered, together with such inexhaustible details of its political, social, and reli- gious life that the antique Hindu world really stands epitomised in them. The Old Testament is not more interwoven with the Jewish race, nor the New Testa- ment with the civilisation of Christendom, nor the Koran with the records and destinies of Islam, than are these two Sanskrit poems — the Mahabharata and Eamavana — with that unchancrinq and teemincp population which Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, rules
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as Empress of Hindustan. The stories, songs, and ballads, the histories and genealogies, the nursery tales and religious discourses, the art, the learning, the philosophy, the creeds, the moralities, the modes of thought; the very phrases, sayings, turns of ex- pression, and daily ideas of the Hindu people, are taken from these poems. Their children and their wives are named out of them; so are their cities, temples, streets, and cattle. They have constituted the library, the newspaper, and the Bible — generation after generation — to all the succeeding and countless millions of Indian people; and it replaces patriotism with that race and stands in stead of nationality to possess these two precious and inexhaustible books, and to drink from them as from mighty and overflowing rivers. The value ascribed in Hindustan to these yet little-known epics has transcended aU literary standards established in the West. They are personified, wor- shipped, and cited from as something divine. To read or even listen to them is thought by the devout Hindu sufficiently meritorious to bring prosperity to his house- hold here and happiness in the next world ; they are held also to give wealth to the poor, health to the sick, wisdom to the ignorant ; and the recitation of certain parvas and shloJcas in them can fill the household of the barren, it is believed, with children. A concluding passage of the great poem says: —
“ The reading of this Mababbarata destroys all sin and pro- duces virtue ; so much so, that the pronunciation orf a single
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fibloka is sufficient to wipe away much guilt. This Mahfi- bhcirata contains the history of the gods, of the Rishis in heaven and those on earth, of the Gandharvas and the Rak- shasas. It also contains the life and actions of the one God, holy, immutable, and true, — who is Krishna, who is tiie creator and the ruler of this universe ; who is seeking the welfare of his creation by means of his incomparable and indestructible power ; whose actions are celebrated by all sages ; who has bound human beings in a chain, of which one end is life and the other death ; on whom the Rishis meditate, and a know- ledge of whom imparts unalloyed happiness to their hearts, and for whose gratification and favour all the daily devotions are performed by all worshippers. If a man reads the Maha- bharata and has faith in its doctrines, he is free from all sin, and ascends to heaven after his death.”
In order to explain the portion of this Indian epic, here for the first time published in English verse, I reprint a brief summary of its plot : —
The “great war of Bharat” has its first scenes in Hastinapur, an ancient and vanished city, formerly situated about sixty miles north-east of the modern Delhi. The Ganges has washed away even the ruins of this the metropolis of King Bharat’s dominions. The poem opens with a “ sacrifice of snakes ; ” but this is a prelude, connected merely by a curious legend with the real beginning. That beginning is reached when the five sons of “King Pandu the Pale” and the five sons of “ King Dhritarashtra the Blind,” both of them descendants of Bharat, are being brought up together in the palace. The first were called Pandavas, the last Kauravas, and their lifelong feud is the main subject of the epic. Yudhishthira, Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva are the Pandava princes. Duryodhana
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is chief of the Kauravas. They are instructed by one master, Drona, a Brahman, in the arts of war and peace, and learn to manage and brand cattle, hunt wild animals, and tame horses. There is in the early portion a striking picture of an Aryan tournament, wherein the young cousins display their skill, “ highly arrayed, amid vast crowds,” and Arjuna especially distinguishes him- self. Clad in golden mail, he shows amazing feats with sword and bow. He shoots twenty-one arrows into the hollow of a buffalo-horn while his chariot whirls alone ; he throw's the “ chakra,” or sharp quoit, without once missing his victim ; and, after winning the prizes, kneels respectfully at the feet of his instructor to receive his crown. The cousins, after this, march out to fight with a neighbouring king, and the Pandavas, who are always the favoured family in the poem, win most of the credit, so that Yudhishthira is elected from among them Yuvaraj, or heir apparent. This incenses Duryodhana, wdio, by appealing to his father, Dhritar- ashtra, procures a division of the kingdom, the Pandavas being sent to Vacanavat, now Allahabad. All this part of the story refers obviously to the advances gradually made by the Aryan conquerors of India into the jungles peopled by aborigines. Forced to quit their new city, the Pandavas hear of the marvellous beauty of Draupadi, whose Swayamvara, or “ choice of a suitor,” is about to be celebrated at Kampilya. This again furnishes a strange and glittering picture of the old times; vast masses of holiday people, with rajahs, elephants, troops,
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jugglers, dancing-women, and showmen, are gathered in a gay encampment round the pavilion of the King Draupada, whose lovely daughter is to take for her husband (on the well-understood condition that she approves of him) the fortunate archer who can strike the eye of a golden fish, whirling round upon the top of a tall pole, with an arrow shot from an enormously strong bow. The princess, adorned with radiant gems, holds a garland of flowers in her hand for the victorious suitor; but none of the rajahs can bend the bow. Arjuna, disguised as a Brahman, performs the feat with ease, and his youth and grace win the heart of Braupadi more completely than his skill. Tlie princess hence- forth follows the fortunes of the brothers, and, by a strange ancient custom, lives with them in common. The Pandavas, now allied to the King Draupada and become strong, are so much dreaded by the Kauravas that they are invited back again, for safety’s sake, to Hastinapura, and settle near it in the city of Indra- prastha, now Delhi. The reign of Yudhishthira and his brothers is very prosperous there; “every subject was pious ; there were no liars, thieves, or cheats ; no droughts, floods, or locusts; no conflagrations nor in- vaders, nor parrots to eat up the grain.”
The Pandava king, having subdued all enemies, now performs the Bajasuya, or ceremony of supremacy, — and here again occur wonderfully interesting pictures. Duryodhana comes thither, and his jealousy is inflamed by the magnificence of the rite. Among other curious
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incidents is one which seems to show that glass was already known. A pavilion is paved with “ black cry- stal,” which the Kaurava prince mistakes for water, and “ draws up his garments lest he should be wetted.” But now approaches a turning-point in the epic. Furious at the wealth and fortune of his cousins, Duryodhana invites them to Hastinapura to join in a great gambling festival. The passion for play was as strong apparently with these antique Hindus as that for fighting or for love: “No true Kshatriya must ever decline a challenge to combat or to dice.” The brothers go .to the entertainment, which is to ruin their pro- sperity ; for Sakuni, the most skilful and lucky gambler, has loaded the “coupun,” so as to win every throw. Mr. Wheeler’s excellent summary again says : —
“ Tlien Yudhishthira and Sakuni sat down to play, and what- ever Yudhishthira laid as stakes Duryodhana laid something of equal value ; but Y’’udhishthira lost every game. He first lost a very beautiful pearl ; next a thousand bags each containing a thousand pieces of gold ; next a great piece of gold so pure that it was as soft as wax ; next a chariot set with jewels and hung all round with golden bells ; next a thousand war-ele- phants with golden liowdahs set with diamonds ; next a lakh of slaves all dressed in rich garments ; next a lakh of beautiful slave-girls, adorned from head to foot with golden ornaments ; next all the remainder of his goods ; next all his cattle ; and then the whole of his Raj, excepting only the lands which had been granted to the Brahmans.”
After this tremendous run of ill-luck, he madly stakes Draupadi the Beautiful, and loses her. The princess is dragged away by the hair, and Duryodhana mockingly bids her come and sit upon his knee, for
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which Ehima the Pandava swears that he will some day break his thigh-bone, — a vow which is duly kept. But the blind old king rebukes this fierce elation of the winner, restores Draupadi, and declares that they must throw another main to decide who shall leave llastin- apura. The cheating Sakuni cogs tlie dice again, and the Pandavas must now go away into the forest, and let no man know them by name for thirteen years. They depart, Draupadi unbinding her long black hair, and vowinc: never to fasten it back again till the hands of Bhima, the strong man among the I’andavas, are red Avith the punishment of the Ivauravas. “Then he sliall tie my tresses up again, when his fingers are dripping with Duhsasana’s blood.”
There follow long episodes of their adventures in the jungle till the time when the Pandavas emerge, and, still disguised, take up their residence in King Virata’s city. Here the vicissitudes of Draupadi as a handmaid of the queen, of Bhima as the palace wrestler, of Arjuna disguised as a eunuch, and of Nakula, Saha- deva, and Yudhishthira, acting as herdsmen and atten- dants, are most absorbing and dramatic. The virtue of Draupadi, assailed by a prince of the State, is terribly defended by the giant Bhima ; and when the Kauravas, suspecting the presence in the place of their cousins, attack Virata, Arjuna drives the chariot of the heir apparent, and victoriously repulses them with his awful bow Gandiva.
After all these evidences of prowess and the help
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afforded in the battle, the King of Virata discovers the princely rank of the Pandavas, and gives his daughter in marriage to the son of Arjuna, A great council is then held to consider the question of declaring war on the Kauravas, at which the speeches are quite Homeric, the god Krishna taking part. The decision is to prepare for war, but to send an embassy first. Mean- time Duryodhana and Arjuna engage in a singular contest to obtain the aid of Krishna, whom both of them seek out. This celestial hero is asleep when they arrive, and the proud Kaurava, as Lord of Indraprastha, sits down at his head ; Arjuna, more reverently, takes a place at his feet. Krishna, awaking, offers to give his vast army to one of them, and himself as counsellor to the other ; and Arjuna gladly allows Duryodhana to take the army, which turns out much the worse bargain. The embassy, meantime, is badly received ; but it is determined to reply by a counter-message, while warlike preparations continue. There is a great deal of useless negotiation, against which Draupadr protests, like another Constance, saying, “War, war! no peace 1 Peace is to me a war ! ” Krishna consoles her with the words, “ Weep not ! the time has nearly come when tlie Kauravas will be slain, both great and small, and their wives will mourn as you have been mourning.” The ferocity of the chief of the Kauravas prevails over the wise counsels of the blind old king and the warnings of Krishna, so that the fatal conflict must now begin upon the plain of Kurukshetra. ’
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All is henceforth martial and stormy in the “parvas” that ensue. The two enormous hosts march to the field, generalissimos are selected, and defiances of the most violent and abusive sort exchanged. Yet there are traces of a singular civilisation in the rules which the leaders draw up to be observed in the war. Thus, no stratagems are to be used ; the fighting men are to fraternise, if they will, after each combat; none may slay the flier, the unarmed, the charioteer, or the beater of the drum ; horsemen are not to attack footmen, and nobody is to fling a spear till the preliminary challenges are finished; nor may any third man interfere when two combatants are engaged. These curious regulations — which would certainly much embarrass Von Moltke — are, sooth to say, not very strictly observed, and, no doubt, were inserted at a later age in the body of the poem by its Brahman editors. Those same interpolaters have overloaded the account of the eighteen days of terrific battle which follow with many episodes and interruptions, some very eloquent and philosophic; indeed, the whole Bhagavad-Gita comes in hereabouts as a religious interlude. Essays on laws, morals, and the sciences are grafted, with lavish indifference to the continuous flow of the narrative, upon its most impor- tant portions ; but there is enough of solid and tremen- dous fighting, notwithstanding, to pale the crimson pages of the Greek Iliad itself. The field glitters, indeed, with kings and princes in panoply of gold and jewels, who engage in mighty and varied combats, till the
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earth swims in blood, and the heavens themselves are obscured with dust and flying weapons. One by one the Kaurava chiefs are slain, and Bhima, the giant, at last meets in arms Duhsasana, the Kaurava prince who had dragged Draupadi by the hair. He strikes him down with the terrible mace of iron, after which he cuts off his head, and drinks of his blood, saying, “ Never have I tasted a draught so delicious as this.” So furious now becomes the war that even the just and mild Arjuna commits two breaches of Aryan chivalry, — killing an enemy while engaged with a third man, and shooting Kama dead while he is extricating his chariot-wheel and without a weapon. At last none are left of the chief Kauravas except Duryodhana, who retires from the field and hides in an island of the lake. The Pandavas find him out, and heap such reproaches on him that the surly warrior comes forth at length, and agrees to fight with Bhima. The duel proves of a tremendous nature, and is decided by an act of treachery; for Arjuna, standing by, reminds Bhima, by a gesture, of his oath to break the thigh of Duryod- hana, because he had bidden Draupadi sit on his knee. The giant takes the hint, and strikes a foul blow, which cripples the Kaurava hero, and he falls helpless to earth. After this the Pandava princes are declared victorious, and Yudhishthira is proclaimed king.
The great poem soon softens its martial music into a pathetic strain. The dead have to be burned, and the living reconciled to their new lords; while after-
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wards King Yudliishtbira is installed in high state wiih “ charaaras, golden umbrellas, elephants, and sing- ing.” He is enthroned facing towards the east, and touches rice, flowers, earth, gold, silver, and jewels, in token of owning all the products of his realm. Being thus firmly seated on his throne, with his cousins round him, the Eajab prepares to celebrate the most magnificent of ancient Hindu rites, — the Asicamcdha, or Sacrifice of the Horse. It is difficult to raise the thoughts of a modern and AVestern public to the solemnity, majesty, and marvel of this antique Oriental rite, as viewed by Hindus. The monarch who was powerful enough to perform it chose a horse of pure white colour, “ like the moon,” with a saffron tail, and a black right ear; or the animal might be all black, without a speck of colour. This steed, wearing a gold plate on its forehead, with the royal name inscribed, was turned loose, and during a whole year the king’s army was bound to follow its wanderings. AA^hitherso- ever it went, the ruler of the invaded territory must either pay homage to the king, and join him with his warriors, or accept battle; but whether conquered or peacefully submitting, all these princes must follow the horse, and at the end of the year assist at the sacrifice of the consecrated animal. Moreover, during the whole year the king must restrain all passion, live a perfectly purified life, and sleep on the bare ground. The white horse could not be loosened until the night of the full moon in Chaitra, which answers to the
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latter half of March and the first half of April, — in fact, at Easter-time ; and it may be observed here that this is not the only strange coincidence in the sacrifice. It was thus an adventure of romantic conquest, mingled with deep religion and arrogant ostentation; and the entire description of the Aswamedha would prove most interesting. The horse is found, is adorned with the golden plate, and turned loose, wandering into distant regions ; where the army of Arjuna — for it was he who led Yudhishthira’s forces — goes through twelve amaz- ing adventures. They come, for instance, to a land of Amazons, all of wonderful beauty, wearing armour of pearls and gold, and equally fatal either to love or to fight with. These dazzling enemies, however, finally submit, as also the Eajah of the rich city of Babhru- vahan, which possessed high walls of solid silver, and was lighted with precious jewels for lamps. The serpent people, in the same way, who live beneath the earth in the city of Vasuki, yield, after combat, to Arjuna. A thousand million semi-human snakemen dwelt there, with wives of consummate loveliness, possessing in their realm gems which would restore dead people to life, as well as a fountain of perpetual youth. Finally, Arjuna’s host marches back in great glory, and with a vast train of vanquished monarchs, to the city of Hastinapura, where all the subject kings have audience of Yudhishthira, and the immense prepara- tions begin for the sacrifice of the snow-white horse.
After all these stately celebrations, it might be
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expected that the great poem would conclude with the established glories of the ancient dynasty. But if the martial part of the colossal epic is “ Kshatriyan,” and the religious episodes “ Brahmanic,” the conclusion breathes the spirit of Buddhism. Yudhishthira sits grandly on the throne ; but earthly greatness does not content the soul of man, nor can riches render weary hearts happy. A wonderful scene, which reads like a rebuke from the dead addressed to the living upon the madness of all war, occurs in this part of the poem. The Pandavas and the old King Dhritarashtra being together by the banks of the Ganges, the great saint Vyasa undertakes to bring back to them all the departed, slain in their fratricidal conflict. The spec- tacle is at once terrible and tender.
But this revealing of the invisible world deepens the discontent of the princes, and when the sage Vyasa tells them that their prosperity is near its end, they determine to leave their kingdom to younger princes, and to set out with their faces towards Mount Meru, where is Indra’s heaven. If, haply, they may reach it, there will be an end of this world’s joys and sorrows, and “ union with the Infinite ” will be obtained. My translations from the Sanskrit of the two concluding parvas of the poem (of which the above is a swift sum- mary) describe the “Last Journey” of the princes and their “ Entry into Heaven ; ” and herein occurs one of the noblest religious apologues not only of this great Epic but of any creed, — a beautiful fable of faithful
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love which may be contrasted, to the advantage of the Hindu teaching, with any Scriptural representations of Death, and of Love, “ which stronger is than Death.” There is always something selfish in the anxiety of Orthodox people to save their own souls, and our best religious language is not free from that taint of pious egotism. The Parvas of the Mahabharata which con- tain Yudhishthira’s approach to Indra’s paradise teach, on the contrary, that deeper and better lesson nobly enjoined by an American poet —
“ The gate of heaven opens to none alone,
Save thou one soul, and it shall save thine own.”
These prefatory remarks seemed necessary to intro- duce the subjoined close paraphrase of the “ Book of the Great Journey,” — and the “Book of the Entry into Heaven ; ” being the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Parvas of the noble but, as yet, almost unknown !Mahabharata.
THE MAHAPEASTHAhIKA PARVA OF THE MAHABHARATA.
“ THE GREAT JOURNEY.”'
To Narayen, Lord of lords, he glory given,
To sweet Saraswati, the Queen in ITeaven,
To great Vydsa, eke, pay reverence due,
So shall this story its high course pursue.
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Then Janmejaya prayed: “Thou Singer, say, What wrought the princes of the Pandavas On tidings of the battle so ensued,
And Krishna, gone on high ? ’’
Answered the Sage :
“ On tidings of the wreck of Yrishni’s race.
King Yudhishthira of the Pandavas Was minded to be done with earthly things.
And to Arjuua spake: ‘0 noble Prince,
Time endeth all ; we linger, noose on neck,
Till the last day tightens the line, and kills.
Let us go forth to die, being yet alive.’
And Kunti’s son, the great Arjuna, said :
‘ Let us go forth to die ! — Time slayeth all ;
We will find Death, who seeketh other men.’
And Bhimasena, hearing, answered : ‘ Yea !
We will find Death ! ’ and Sahadev cried : ‘ Yea ! ’ And his twin brother Kakula: whereat The princes set their faces for the Mount.
“ But Yudhishthira— ere he left his realm,
To seek high ending — summoned Tuyutsu,
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Surnamed of fights, and set him over all,
Eegent, to rule in Parikshita’s name Nearest the throne; and Parikshita king He crowned, and unto old Subhadra said :
‘ This, thy son’s son, shall wear the Kuru crown. And Yadu’s offspring, Vajra, shall be first In Yadu’s house. Bring up the little prince Here in our Hastinpur, but Vajra keep At Indraprasth ; and let it be thy last Of virtuous works to guard the lads, and guide.’
“ So ordering ere he went, the righteous king Made offering of white water, heedfully.
To Vasudev, to Piama, and the rest, —
All funeral rites performing ; next he spread A funeral feast, whereat there sate as guests Narada, Dwaipayana, Bharadwaj, ■
And Markandeya, rich in saintly years.
And Tajnavalkya, Ilari, and tlie priests.
Those holy ones he fed with dainty meats In kingliest wise, naming the name of Him Who bears the bow ; and — that it should be well For him and his — gave to the Brahmanas _
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Jewels of gold and silver, lakhs on lakhs,
Fair broidered cloths, gardens and villages, Chariots and steeds and slaves.
“ Which being done, —
0 Best of Bharat’s line ! — he bowed him low Before his Guru’s feet, — at Kripa’s feet.
That sage all honoured, — saying, ‘ Take my prince ; Teach Parikshita as thou taughtest me ;
For hearken, ministers and men of war !
Fixed is my mind to quit all earthly state.’
FuU sore of heart were they, and sore the folk To hear such speech, and bitter spread the word Through town and country, that the king would go ; And all the people cried, ‘ Stay with us. Lord ! ’ But Yudhishthira knew the time was come.
Knew that life passes and that virtue lasts.
And put aside their love.
“ So — with farewells Tenderly took of Lieges and of lords —
Girt he for travel, with his princely kin.
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Great Yudhishthira, Dharma’s royal son. Crest-gem and belt and ornaments he stripped From off his body, and for broidered robe A rough dress donned, woven of jungle-bark ; And what he did — 0 Lord of men ! — so did Arjuna, Bhfma, and the twin-born pair,
Nakula with Sahadev, and she — in grace The peerless — Draupadi. Lastly these six.
Thou son of Bharata ! in solemn form Made the high sacrifice of Naishtiki,
Quenching their flames in water at the close ; And so set forth, ’midst wailing of all folk And tears of women, weeping most to see The Princess Draupadi — that lovely prize Of the great gaming, Draupadi the Bright — Journeying afoot; but she and all the Five Bejoiced, because their way lay heavenwards.
‘ Seven were they, setting forth, — princess and kin The king’s four brothers, and a faithful dog. Those left Hastinapur ; but many a man,
And all the palace household, followed them The first sad stage; and, ofttimes prayed to part,
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Put parting off for love and pity, still Sighing ‘ A little farther ! ’ — till day waned ;
Then one by one they turned, and Kripa said,
‘ Let all turn back, Yuyutsu ! These must go.’
So came they homewards, but the Snake-King’s child^ TJlupi, leapt in Ganges, losing them ;
And Chitranagad with her people went Mournful to Munipoor, whilst the three queens Brought Parikshita in.
“ Thus wended they, Pandu’s five sons and loveliest Draupadi,
Tasting no meat, and journeying due east;
On righteousness their high hearts bent, to heaven Their souls assigned ; and steadfast trode their feet, By faith upborne, past nullah, ran, and wood.
Paver and jheel and plain. Iving Yudhishthir "Walked foremost, Blnma followed, after him Arjuna, and the twin-born brethren next,
Xakula with Sahadev ; in whose still steps —
O Best of Bharat’s offspring ! — Draupadi,
That gem of women, paced ; with soft, dark face, — Beautiful, wonderful ! — and lustrous eyes,
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Clear-lined like lotus-petals ; last the dog. Following the Pandavas.
“ At length they reach
The far Lauchityan Sea, which foameth white Under Udayachala’s ridge. — Know ye That all this while Nakula had not ceased Bearing the holy bow, named Gandiva,
And jewelled quiver, ever filled with shafts Though one should shoot a thousand thousand times. Here — broad across their path — the heroes see Agni, the god. As though a mighty hill Took form of front and breast and limb, he spake. Seven streams of shining splendour rayed his brow. While the dread voice said : ‘ I am Agni, chiefs !
0 sons of Pandu, I am Agni ! Hail !
0 long-armed Yudhishthira, blameless king, —
0 warlike Bliirna, — 0 Arjuna, wise, —
0 brothers twin-born from a womb divine, —
Hear ! I am Agni, who consumed the wood By will of Narayan for Arjuna’s sake.
Let this your brother give Gandiva back, —
The matchless bow : the use for it is o’er.
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That gem-rincred battle-discus which lie whirled Cometh again to Krishna in his hand For avatars to be ; but need is none Henceforth of this most excellent bright bow, Gandiva, which I brought for Partha’s aid From high Varuna. Let it be returned.
Cast it herein ! ’
“ And all the princes said.
‘ Cast it, dear brother ! ’ So Arjuna threw Into that sea the quiver ever-filled,
And glittering bow. Then led by Agni’s light.
Unto the south they turned, and so south-west.
And afterwards right west, until they saw Dwaraka, washed and bounded by a main Loud-thundering on its shores ; and here — 0 Best ! — Vanished the God ; while yet those heroes walked, Mow to the north-west bending, where long coasts Shut in the sea of salt, now to the north. Accomplishing all quarters, journeyed they ;
The earth their altar of high sacrifice,
"Which these most patient feet did pace around Till Meru rose.
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“At last it rose ! These Six,
Their senses subjugate, their spirits pure,
AYending alone, came into sight — far off In the eastern sky — of awful Himavan ;
And, midway in the peaks of Himavan,
Meru, the Mountain of all mountains, rose,
AVhose head is Heaven ; and under Himavan Glared a wide waste of sand, dreadful as death.
“ Then, as they hastened o’er the deadly waste.
Aiming for Meru, ha\dng thoughts at soul Infinite, eager, — lo ! Draupadi reeled,
AYith faltering heart and feet ; and Bhima turned Gazing upon her ; and that hero spake To Yudhishthira : ' Master, Brother, King AYhy doth she fail ? For never all her life Wrought our sweet lady one thing wrong, I think. Thou knowest, make us know, wdiy hath she failed ? ’
‘ Then Yudhishthira answered: ‘Yea, one thing.
She loved our brother better than all else, —
Better than heaven : that was her tender sin,
• Fault of a faultless soul; she pays for that.’
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" So spake the monarch, turning not his eyes,
Though Draupadi lay dead — striding straight on For Meru, heart-full of the things of heaven,
Ferfect and firm. Hut yet a little space.
And Sahadev fell down, whicli Bhi'ma seeing,
Cried once again : ‘ 0 King, great Madri’s son Stumbles and sinks. Why hatli he sunk ? — so true. So brave and steadfast, and so free from pride ! ’
“ ‘ He was not free,’ with countenance still fixed.
Quoth Yudhishthira ; ‘ he was true and fast And wise, yet wisdom made him proud ; he hid One little hurt of soul, but now it kills.’
“ So saying, he strode on — Kunti’s strong son —
And Bhi'ma, and Arjuna followed him.
And Nakula, and the hound; leaving behind Sahadev in the sands. But Nakula,
Weakened and grieved to see Sahadev fall—
His loved twin-brother — lagged and stayed; and next Prone on his face he fell, that noble face Which had no match for beauty in the land, — Glorious and godlike Nakula ! Then sighed
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Bhima anew : ‘ Brother and Lord ! the man Who never erred from virtue, never broke Our fellowship, and never in the world Was matched for goodly perfectness of form Or gracious feature, — Nakula has fallen ! ’
“ But Yudhishthira, holding fixed his eyes, —
That changeless, faithful, all-wise king, — replied : ‘ Yea, hut he erred. The godlike form he wore Beguiled him to believe none like to him And he alone desirable, and things Unlovely to be slighted. Self-love slays Our noble brother. Bhfma, follow ! Each Bays what his debt was. ’
“Which Arjuna heard. Weeping to see them fall ; and that stout son Of Pandu, that destroyer of his foes.
That prince, who drove through crimson waves of war, In old days, with his chariot-steeds of milk.
He, the arch-hero, sank ! Beholding this,—
The yielding of that soul unconquerable,
Fearless, divine, from Sakra’s self derived.
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1S3
Arjuna’s, — Bhi'ma cried aloud : ‘ 0 king !
This man was surely perfect. Never once,
Not even in slumber when the lips are loosed,
Spake he one word that was not true as truth.
Ah, heart of gold, why art thou broke ? 0 King !
Whence falleth he ? ’
“And Yudhishthira said.
Not pausing : ‘ Once he lied, a lordly lie !
He bragged — our brother — that a single day Should see him utterly consume, alone.
All those his enemies, — which could not be.
Yet from a great heart sprang the unmeasured speech. Howbeit, a finished hero should not shame Himself in such wise, nor his enemy,
If he will faultless fight and blameless die :
This was Arjnna’s sin. FoUow thou me!’
“ So the king still went on. But Bhfma next Fainted, and stayed upon the way, and sank ; Yet, sinking cried, behind the steadfast prince : ‘ Ah, brother, see ! I die ! Look upon me,
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Thy well-belovM! Wherefore falter I, Who strove to stand ? ’
“And Yudhishthira said:
‘ ]\Iore than was well the goodly things of earth Pleased thee, my pleasant brother ! Light the offence, And large thy virtue ; but the o’er-fed flesh Plumed itself over spirit. Pritha’s son.
For this thou failest, who so near didst gain.’
“ Thenceforth alone the long-armed monarch strode. Not looking back, — nay! not for Bhi'ma’s sake, — But walking with his face set for the Mount :
And the hound followed him, — only the hound.
“ After the deathly sands, the Mount ! and lo !
Sakra shone forth, — the God, filling the earth And heavens with thunder of his chariot-wheels.
‘ Ascend,’ he said, ‘ with me, Pritha’s great son ! ’
But Yudhishthira answered, sore at heart For those his kinsfolk, fallen on the way :
‘ O Thousand-eyed, 0 Lord of all the Gods,
Give that my brothers come with me, who fell !
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Xot without them is Swarga sweet to me.
She too, the dear and kind and queenly, — she Whose perfect virtue Paradise must crown, —
Grant her to come wdth us ! Dost thou grant this ? ’
“ The God replied : ‘ In heaven thou shalt see Thy kinsmen and the queen — these wdll attain — With Krishna. Grieve no longer for thy dead.
Thou chief of men ! their mortal covering stripped. They have their places ; but to thee the gods Allot an unknown grace : thou shalt go up Living and in thy form to the immortal homes.’
“ But the king answered : ‘ 0 thou Wisest One,
Who know’st what was, and is, and is to be.
Still one more grace ! This hound hath ate with me, Followed me, loved me ; must I leave him now ? ’
“ ‘ Monarch,’ spake Indra, ‘ thou art now as We, — Deathless, divine ; thou art become a god ;
Glory and power and gifts celestial.
And aU the joys of heaven are thine for aye :
What hath a beast with these ? Leave here thy hound.’
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“Yet Yudhishthira answered: ‘0 Most High,
0 Thousand-eyed and Wisest ! can it be That one exalted should seem pitiless ?
Nay, let me lose such glory: for its sake
1 would not leave one living thing I loved.’
“ Then sternly Indra spake : ‘ He is unclean, And into Swarga such shall enter not.
The Krodhavasha’s hand destroys the fruits Of sacrifice, if dogs defile the fire.
Bethink thee, Dharmaraj, quit now this beast ’ That which is seemly is not hard of heart.’
“ Still he replied : ‘ ’Tis written that to spurn A suppliant equals in offence to slay A twice-born ; wherefore, not for Swarga’s bliss Quit I, Mahendra, this poor clinging dog, —
So without any hope or friend save me.
So wistful, fawning for my faithfulness.
So agonized to die, unless I help
Who among men was called steadfast and just.’
ILIAD OF INDIA.
“ Quoth Indra : ‘ Nay ! the altar-flame is foul Where a dog passeth ; angry angels sweep The ascending smoke aside, and all the fruits Of offering, and the merit of the prayer Of him whom a hound toucheth. Leave it here ! He that will enter heaven must enter pure.
Why didst thou quit thy brethren on the way. Quit Krishna, quit the dear-loved Draupadf, Attaining, firm and glorious, to this Mount Through perfect deeds, to linger for a brute ?
Hath Yudhishthira vanquished self, to melt With one poor passion at the door of bliss ? Stay’st thou for this, who didst not stay for them, Draupadf, Bhfma ? ’
“ But the king yet spake :
‘ ’Tis known that none can hurt or help the dead. They, the delightful ones, who sank and died. Following my footsteps, could not live again Though I had turned, — therefore I did not turn ; But could help profit, I had turned to help.
There be four sins, 0 Sakra, grievous sins :
The first is making suppliants despair,
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The second is to slay a nursing wife.
The third is spoiling Brahmans’ goods by force,
Tlie fourth is injuring an ancient friend.
These four I deem not direr than the sin,
If one, in coming forth from woe to weal,
Abandon any meanest comrade then.’
“ Straight as he spake, brightly great Indra smiled ; Vanished the hound; — ;and in its stead stood there The Lord of Death and Justice, Dharma’s self !
Sweet were the words which fell from those dread lips. Precious the lovely praise : ‘ 0 thou true king,
Thou that dost bring to harvest the good seed Of Pandu’s righteousness ; thou that hast ruth As he before, on all which lives ! — 0 Son,
I tried thee in the Dwaita wood, what time The Yaksha smote them, bringing water ; then Thou prayedst for Nakula’s life — tender and just — Not Bhima’s nor Arjuna’s, true to both.
To Madri as to Kunti, to both queens.
Hear thou my word ! Because thou didst not mount This car divine, lest the poor hound be shent Who looked to thee, lo ! there is none in heaven
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Shall sit above thee, King ! — Bharata’s son,
Enter thou now to the eternal joys.
Living and in thy form. Justice and Love ■\Velcome thee, Monarch! thou shalt throne with us !’
“ Thereat those mightiest Gods, in glorious train, IMahendra, Dharma, — with bright retinue Of Maruts, Saints, Aswin-Kumaras, Nats,
Spirits and Angels, — bore the king aloft,
The thundering chariot first, and after ic Those airy-moving Presences. Serene,
Clad in great glory, potent, wonderful.
They glide at will, — at will they know and see.
At wish their wills are wrought ; for these are pure. Passionless, hallowed, perfect, free of earth.
In such celestial midst the Pandu king Soared upward ; and a sweet light filled the sky And fell on earth, cast by his face and form. Transfigured as he rose ; and there was heard The voice of Narad, — it is he who sings,
Sitting in heaven, the deeds that good men do In all the quarters, — Narad, chief of bards,
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Narad the wise, who laudeth purity, —
So cried he : ‘ Thou art risen, unmatched king. Whose greatness is above ail royal saints.
Hail, son of Pandu ! like to thee is none Now or before among the sons of men,
Whose fame hath filled the three wide worlds, who com’st
Bearing thy mortal body, which doth shine With radiance as a god’s.’
“ The glad king heard
Narad’s loud praise; he saw the immortal gods, — Dharma, IMahendra ; and dead chiefs and saints. Known upon earth, in blessed heaven he saw ;
But only those. ‘ I do desire,’ he said,
‘ That region, be it of the Blest as this.
Or of the Sorrowful some otherwhere.
Where my dear brothers are, and Draupadf.
I cannot stay elsewhere ! I see them not ! ’
“ Then answer made Purandara, the God :
‘ 0 thou compassionate and noblest One,
Best in the pleasures which thy deeds have gained.
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How, being as are the Gods, canst thou live bound By mortal chains ? Thou art become of Us,
Who live above hatred and love, in bliss Pinnacled, safe, supreme. Sun of thy race,.
Thy brothers cannot reach where thou hast climbed ! ^lost glorious lord of men, let not thy peace Be touched by stir of earth ! Look ! this is Heaven. See where the saints sit, and the happy souls, Siddhas and angels, and the gods who live For ever and for ever.’
“ ‘ King of gods,’
Spake Yudhishthira, ‘but I will not live A little space without those souls I loved.
O Slayer of the demons ! let me go Where Bhima and my brothers are, and she,
My Draupadi, the princess with the face Softer and darker than the Vrihat-leaf,
And soul as sweet as are its odours. Lo ! Where they have gone, there will I surely go.’ ”
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THE ILIAD OF INDIA.
THE SWARGAROHANA PARVA OF THE MAHABHARATA ; OR, “THE ENTRY INTO HEAVEN.”
To Narayen, Lord of lords, be glory given.
To Queen Saraswati he praise in heaven ;
Unto Vydsa pay the reverence due, —
So may this story its high coierse pursue.
Then Janmejaya said : “lam fain to learn IIow it befell ■with my great forefathers,
The Pandu chiefs and Dhritarashtra’s sons,
Being to heaven ascended. If thou know’st, —
And thou know’st all, whom wise Vyasa taught, — ■ ' Tell me, how fared it with those mighty souls ? “
Answered the Sage : “ Hear of thy forefathers — Great Yudhishthira and the Pandu lords —
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I low it befell. When thus the blameless king Was entered into heaven, there he beheld Duryodhana, his foe, tfironed as a god Amid the gods ; splendidly sate that prince,
I’eaceful and proud, the radiance of his brows Far-shining like the sun’s ; and round him thronged Spirits of light, with Siidhyas, — companies Goodly to see. But when the king beheld Duryodhana in bliss, and not his own, —
Kot Draupadf, nor Bhima, nor the rest, —
With quick-averted face and angry eyes The monarch spake : ‘ Keep heaven for such as these If these come here ! I do not wish to dwell Where he is, whom I hated rightfully.
Being a covetous and witless prince.
Whose deed it was that in wild fields of war Brothers and friends by mutual slaughter fell.
While our swords smote, sharpened so wrathfully By all those wrongs borne wandering ia the woods : But Draupadi’s the deepest wrong, for he —
He who sits there — haled her before the court. Seizing that sweet and virtuous lady — he ! —
With grievous hand wound in her tresses. Gods,
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I cannot look upon him ! Sith ’tis so,
Where are my brothers ? Thither whl I go ! ’
“ Smiling, bright Narada, the Sage, replied :
‘ Speak thou not rashly ! Say not this, 0 King I Those who come here lay enmities aside.
0 Yudhishthira, long-armed monarch, hear ! Duryodhana is cleansed of sin ; he sits Worshipful as the saiuts, worshipped by saints And kings who lived and died in virtue’s path, Attaining to the joys which heroes gain Who yield their breath in battle. Even so He that did wrong thee, knowing not thy worth. Hath won before thee hither, raised to bliss For lordliness, and valour free of fear.
Ah, well-beloved Prince ! ponder thou not The memory of that gaming, nor the griefs Of Draupadi, nor any vanished hurt Wrought in the passing shows of life by craft Or wasteful war. Throne happy at the side Of this thy happy foeman, — wiser now ;
For here is Paradise, thou chief of men !
And in its holy air hatreds are dead.’
ILIAD OF INDIA.
«9
“ Thus by such lips addressed the I’audu king Answered uncomforted : ‘ Duryodhana,
If he attains, attains; yet not the less Kvil he lived and ill he died, — a heart Impious and harmful, bringing woes to all.
To friends and foes. Ilis was the crime which cost Our land its warriors, horses, elephants;
His the black sin that set us in the field.
Burning for rightful vengeance. Ye are gods.
And just; and ye have granted heaven to him. Show me the regions, therefore, where they dwell, !My brothers, those, the noble-souled, the loyal. Who kept the sacred laws, who swerved no step From virtue’s path, who spake the truth, and lived Foremost of warriors. Where is Kunti’s son.
The hero-hearted Kama ? Where are gone Satyaki, Dhrishtadyumna, with their sons ?
And where those famous chiefs who fought for me. D}dng a splendid death ? I see them not.
O Xarada, I see them not! No King Draupada ! no Virata ! no glad face Of Dhrishtaketu 1 no Shikandina,
Prince of Panchala, nor his princely boys !
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Nor Abhimanyu the unconquerable !
President Gods of heaven ! I see not here Piadha’s bright son, nor Yudhamanyu,
Nor Uttamanjaso, his brother dear!
Where are those noble Maharashtra lords,
Eajahs and rajpoots, slain for love of me ?
Dwell they in glory elsewhere, not yet seeir ?
If they be here, high Gods I and those with them For whose sweet sakes I lived, here wiU I Uve, Meek-hearted ; but if such be not adjudged Worthy, I am not worthy, nor my soul Willing to rest without them. Ah, I burn.
Now in glad heaven, with grief, bethinking me Of those my mother’s words, what time I poured Death-water for my dead at Kurkshetra, —
“ Pour for Prince Kama, Son 1 ” but I wist not His feet were as my mother’s feet, his blood Her blood, my blood. 0 Gods ! I did not know, — Albeit Sakra’s self had failed to break Our battle, where he stood. I crave to see Surya’s child, that glorious chief who fell By Saryasaclii’s hand, unknown of me;
And Bhi'ma ! ah, my Blii'ma ! dearer far
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197
Than life to me ; Arjuna, like a god,
Nakla and Saliadev, twin lords of war,
"With tenderest Praupadi ! Show me tliose souls !
I cannot tarry where I have them not.
Eliss is not blissful, just and mighty Ones !
Save if I rest beside them. Heaven is there Where Love and Faith make heaven. Let me go !’
“ And answer made the hearkening heavenly Ones : ‘Go, if it seemeth good to thee, dear Son !
The King of gods commands we do thy will.’
*■ So saying [the Bard went on] Dharma’s own voice Gave ordinance, and from the shining bands A golden Deva glided, taking best To guide the king there where his kinsmen were.
So wended these, the holy angel first.
And in his steps the king, close following.
Together passed they through the gates of pearl. Together heard them close ; then to the left Descending, by a path evil and dark.
Hard to be traversed, rugged, entered they The ‘ Sinners’ Eoad.’ The tread of sinful feet
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]\Iatted the thick thorns carpeting its slope ;
The smell of sin hung foul on them ; the mire About their roots was trampled filth of flesh Horrid with rottenness, and splashed with gore Curdling in crimson puddles ; where there buzzed And sucked and settled creatures of the swamp, Hideous in wing and sting, gnat-clouds and flies.
With moths, toads, newts, and snakes red-gulleted.
And livid, loathsome worms, writhing in slime Torth from skull-holes and scalps and tumbled bones. A burning forest shut the roadside in On either hand, and ’mid its crackling boughs Perched ghastly birds, or flapped amongst the flames, — Vultures and kites and crows, — with brazen plumes And beaks of iron ; and these grisly fowl Screamed to the shrieks of Prets, lean, famished ghosts. Featureless, eyeless, having pin-point mouths, Hungering, but hard to fill, — all swooping down To gorge upon the meat of wicked ones ;
Whereof the limbs disparted, trunks and heads.
Offal and marrow, littered all the way.
P>y such a path the king passed, sore afeared If he had known of fear, for the air stank
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199
With carrion stench, sickly to breathe; and lo ! Presently ’thwart the pathway foamed a flood Of boiling waves, rolling down corpses. This They crossed, and then the Asipatra wood Spread black in sight, whereof the undergrowth Was sword-blades, spitting, every blade, some wretch ; All around poison trees ; and next to this.
Strewn deep with fiery sands, an awful waste. Wherethrough the wicked toiled with blistering feet, ’Midst rocks of brass, red hot, which scorched, and pools Of bubbling pitch that gulfed them. Last the gorge Of Kutashala Mali, — frightful gate Of utmost Hell, with utmost horrors filled.
Deadly and nameless were the plagues seen there ; Which when the monarch reached, nigh overborne By terrors and the reek of tortured flesh.
Unto the angel spake he : ‘ Wliither goes This hateful road, and where be they I seek,
Yet find not ? ’ Answer made the heavenly One :
‘ Hither, great King, it was commanded me To bring thy steps. If thou be’st overborne.
It is commanded that I lead thee back
To where the Gods wait. Wilt thou turn and mount ? *
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“ Tlien (0 thou Son of Bharat !) Yudhishthir Turned heavenward his face, so was he moved With horror and the hanging stench, and spent By toil of that black travel. But his feet Scarce one stride measured, when about the place Pitiful accents rang : ‘ Alas, sweet King ! —
Ah, saintly Lord ! — Ah, Thou that hast attained Place with the BlessM, Pandu’s offspring ! — pause A little while, for love of us who cry !
Nought can harm thee in all this baneful place ;
But at thy coming there ’gan blow a breeze Balmy' and soothing, bringing us relief.
O Pritha’s son, mightiest of men ! we breathe Glad breath again to see thee ; we have peace One moment in our agonies. Stay here One moment more, Bharata’s child ! Go not.
Thou Victor of the Kurus ! Being here,
Hell softens and our bitter pains relax.’
“ These pleadings, wailing all around the place,
Heard the King Yudhishthira, — words of woo
Humble and eager; and compassion seized
His lordly mind. ‘ Poor souls unknown !’ he sighed.
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201
And hellwards turned anew ; for what those were, "Whence such beseeching voices, and of whom.
That son of Pandu wist not, — only wist Tliat all the noxious murk was filled with forms. Shadowy, in anguish, crying grace of him. "Wherefore he called aloud, ‘ Who speaks with me ? What do ye here, and what things suffer ye ? ’
Then from the black depth piteously there came Answers of whispered suffering : ‘ Kama I,
0 King ! ’ and yet another, ‘ 0 my Liege,
Thy Bhi'ma speaks ! ’ and then a voice again,
‘ I am Arjuna, Brother ! ’ and again,
‘ Xakla is here and Sahadev ! ’ and last A moan of music from the darkness sighed,
‘ Draupadi cries to thee ! ’ Thereat broke forth The monarch’s spirit, — knowing so the sound Of each familiar voice, — ‘ What doom is this ?
"What have my well-beloved wrought to earn Death with the damned, or life loathlier than death In Narak’s midst ? Hath Kama erred so deep, Bhima, Arjuna, or the glorious twins.
Or she, the slender-waisted, sweetest, best.
My princess, — that Duryodhana should sit
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Peaceful in Paradise with all his crew,
Throned by Mahendra and the shining gods ?
How should these fail of bliss, and he attain ? What were their sins to his, their splendid faults ? For if they slipped, it was in virtue’s way Serving good laws, performing holy rites.
Boundless in gifts and faithful to the death.
These be their well-known voices ! Are ye here. Souls I loved best ? Dream I, belike, asleep.
Or rave I, maddened with accursed sights And death-reeks of this hellish air 1 ’
“ Thereat
For pity and for pain the king waxed wroth.
That soul fear could not shake, nor trials tire. Burned terrible with tenderness, the while His eyes searched all the gloom, his planted feet Stood fast in the mid horrors. Well-nigh, then.
He cursed the gods ; well-nigh that steadfast mind Broke from its faith in virtue. But he stayed Th’ indignant passion, softly speaking this Unto the angel : ‘ Go to those thou serv’st ;
Tell them I come not thither. Say I stand
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Here in the throat of hell, and here will bide — Nay, if I perish — while my well-helov’d Win ease and peace by any pains of mine.’
“ Whereupon, nought replied the shining One, But straight repaired unto the upper light. Where Sakra sate above the gods, and spake Before the gods the message of the king.”
“ Afterward what befell ? ” the prince inquired.
“ Afterward, Princely One ! ” replied the Sage,
“ At hearing and at knowing that high deed (Great Yudhishthira braving hell for love).
The Presences of Paradise uprose,
Each Splendour in his place, — god Sakra chief ; Together rose they, and together stepped .
Down from their thrones, treading the nether road Where Yudhishthira tarried. Sakra led The shining van, and Dharma, Lord of laws.
Paced glorious next. 0 Son of Bharata,
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AVhile that celestial company came clown —
Pure as the white stars sweeping through the sky, And brighter than their brilliance — look ! Hell’s shades ^lelted before them; warm gleams drowned the gloom; Soft, lovely scenes rolled over the ill sights ;
Peace calmed the cries of torment ; in its bed The boiling river shrank, quiet and clear ;
The Asipatra Vana — awful wood —
Blossomed with colours ; all those cruel blades,
And dreadful rocks, and piteous scattered wreck Of w'rithing bodies, where the king had passed. Vanished as dreams fade. Cool and fragrant went A wind before their faces, as these Gods Drew radiant to the presence of the king, —
Maruts; and Vasus eight, who shine and serve Pound Indra ; Pudras ; Aswins ; and those Six Immortal Lords of light beyond our light,
Th’ Adityas ; Saddhyas ; Siddhas, — those were there. With angels, saints, and habitants of lieaven.
Smiling resplendent round the steadfast prince.
“ Then spake the God of gods these gracious words To Yudhishthira, standing in that place : —
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205
“ ‘ King Yudhishthira! 0 thou long-armed Lord,
This is enough ! All heaven is glad of thee.
It is enough ! Come, thou most blessM one.
Unto thy peace, well-gained. Lay now aside Thy loving wrath, and hear the speech of Heaven.
It is appointed that all kings see hell.
The reckonings for the life of men are twain :
Of each man’s righteous deeds a tally true,
A tally true of each man’s evil deeds.
"W^ho hath wrought little right, to him is paid A little bliss in Swarga, then the woe "Which purges ; who much right hath wrought, from him
The little dl by lighter pains is cleansed,
And then the joys. Sweet is peace after pain.
And bitter pain which follows peace ; yet they,
■\Mio sorely sin, taste of the heaven they miss.
And they that suffer quit their debt at last.
Lo ! We have loved thee, laying hard on thee Grievous assaults of soul, and this black road. Bethink thee : by a semblance once, dear Son !
Drona thou didst beguile ; and once, dear Son ! Semblance of hell hath so thy sin assoiled,
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Whicli passeth with these shadows. Even thus Thy Bhi'ma came a little space t’ account,
Draupadi, Krishna, — all whom thou didst love,
Kever again to lose ! Come, First of Men !
These be delivered and their quittance made.
Also the princes, son of Bharata !
Who fell beside thee fighting, have attained.
Come thou to see ! Kama, whom thou didst mourn, — That mightiest archer, master in all wars, —
He hath attained, shining as doth the sun ;
Come thou and see ! Grieve no more, King of Men ! Whose love helped them and thee, and hath its meed. Bajas and maharajahs, warriors, aids, —
All thine are thine for ever. Krishna waits To greet thee coming, ’companied by gods.
Seated in heaven, from toils and conflicts saved.
Son ! there is golden fruit of noble deeds.
Of prayer, alms, sacrifice. The most just Gods Keep thee thy place above the highest saints.
Where thou shalt sit, divine, compassed about With royal souls in bliss, as Hari sits;
Seeing Mandhata crowned, and Bhagirath,
Daushyanti, Bharata, with all thy line.
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Now therefore wash thee in this holy stream, dunga’s pure fount, whereof the bright waves bless All the Three Worlds. It will so change thy flesh To likeness of th’ immortal, thou shalt leave Passions and aches and tears behind thee there.’
“ And when the awful Sakra thus had said,
Lo ! Dharma spake, — th’ embodied Lord of Ilight :
“ ‘ Bho ! bho ! I am well pleased ! Hail to thee. Chief ! Worthy, and wise, and firm. Thy faith is full,
Thy virtue, and thy patience, and thy truth.
And thy self-mastery. Thrice I put thee. King ! Unto the trial. In the Dwaita wood.
The day of sacrifice, — then thou stood’st fast ;
Next, on thy brethren’s death and Draupadi’s,
When, as a dog, I followed thee, and found Thy spirit constant to the meanest friend.
Here was the third and sorest touchstone. Son !
That thou shouldst hear thy brothers cry in hell, And yet abide to help them. Pritha’s child.
We love thee ! Thou art fortunate and pure,
Past trials now. Thou art approved, and they
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\
Thou lov’st have tasted hell only a space.
Not meriting to suffer more than when An evil dreani doth come, and Indra’s beam Ends it with radiance — as this vision ends.
It is appointed that all flesh see death.
And therefore thou hast borne the passing pangs, Briefest for thee, and brief for those of thine, — Bhima the faithful, and the valiant twins Nakla and Sahadev, and those great hearts Kama, Arjuna, with thy princess dear,
Draupadf. Come, thou best-beloved Son,
Blessed of all thy line ! Bathe in this stream, —
It is great Gunga, flowing through Three Worlds.’
“ Thus high-accosted, the rejoicing king (Thy ancestor, 0 Liege ! ) proceeded straight Unto that river’s brink, which floweth pure Through the Three Worlds, mighty, and sweet, and praised.
There, being bathed, the body of the king I’ut off its mortal, coming up arrayed In grace celestial, washed from soils of sin.
From passion, pain, and change. So, hand in hand
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With brother-gods, glorious went Yudhishthir^
’ Lauded by softest minstrelsy, and songs Of unknown music, where those heroes stood — The princes of the Pandavas, his kin —
And lotus-eyed and lovliest Draupadf,
AVaiting to greet him, gladdening and glad.
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FJ^OM THE ^'SAUPT/KA PAR FA” OF THE MAHABHARATA,
OR
''NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER."
To Narayen, Best of Lords, he glory given,
To great Saraswati, the Queen in Heaven ;
Unto Vydsa, too, he paid his meed,
So shall this story worthily proceed,
“ Those vanquished warriors then,” Sanjaya said,
“ Fled southwards ; and, near sunset, past the tents. Unyoked; abiding close in fear and rage.
There was a wood beyond the camp, — untrod, Quiet, — and in its leafy harbour lay The Princes, some among them bleeding still From spear and arrow-gashes ; all sore-spent,
THE NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER. 2ti
Fetchijig faint breath, and fighting o’er again In thought that battle. But there came the noise Of Pandavas pursiiing, — fierce and loud Outcries of victory — whereat those chiefs Sullenly rose, and yoked their steeds again.
Driving due east ; and eastward still they drave Under the night, till drouth and desperate toil Stayed horse and man ; then took they lair again.
The panting horses, and the Warriors, wroth With chilled wounds, and the death-stroke of their King.
“ Xow were they come, my Prince,” Sanjaya said,
“ Unto a jungle thick with stems, whereon The tangled creepers coiled ; here entered they — Watering their horses at a stream — and pushed Deep in the thicket. Many a beast and bird Sprang startled at their feet ; the long grass stirred With serpents creeping off ; the woodland flowers Shook where the pea- fowl hid, and, where frogs plunged. The swamp rocked all its reeds and lotus-buds.
A banian-tree, with countless dropping boughs Earth-rooted, spied they, and beneath its aisles
312
FROM THE "SAUPTIKA PARVA."
A pool ; hereby they stayed, tethering their steeds, And dipping water, made the evening prayer.
“ But when the ‘ Day-maker ’ sank in the west And Night descended — gentle, soothing Night, Who comforts all, with silver splendour decked Of stars and constellations, and soft folds Of velvet darkness drawn — then those wild things Which roam in darkness woke, wandering afoot Under the gloom. Horrid the forest grew With roar, and yelp, and yell, around that place Where Kripa, Kritavarman, and the son Of Drona lay, beneath the banian-tree ;
Full many a piteous passage instancing In their lost battle-day of dreadful blood ;
Till sleep fell heavy on the wearied lids Of Bhoja's child and Kripa. Then these Lords — To princely life and silken couches used —
Sought on the bare earth slumber, spent and sad. As houseless outcasts lodge.
“ But„ Oh, my King !
There came no sleep to Drona’s angry son.
THE NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER.
2>3
Great Aswattbaman. As a snake lies coiled And hisses, breathing, so his panting breath Hissed rage and hatred round him, while he lay, Chin uppermost, arm-pillowed, with fierce eyes Eoving the wood, and seeing sightlessly.
Thus chanced it that his wandering glances turned Into the fig-tree’s shadows, where there perched A thousand crows, thick-roosting, on its limbs ; Some nested, some on branchlets, deep asleep. Heads under wings — all fearless ; nor, 0 Prince ! Had Aswattbaman more than marked the birds. When, lo ! there fell out of the velvet night.
Silent and terrible, an eagle-owl.
With wide, soft, deadly, dusky wings, and eyes Flame-coloured, and long claws, and dreadful beak ; Like a winged sprite, or great Garood himself Offspring of Bharata ! it lighted there Upon the banian’s bough; hooted, but low.
The fury smothering in its throat ; — then fell With murderous beak and claws upon those crows, Bending the wings from this, the legs from that, From some the heads, of some ripping the crops ; Till, tens and scores, the fowl rained down to earth
214
FROM THE "SAUPTIKA PARVA.'-
Bloody and plucked, and all the ground waxed black With piled crow-carcases ; whilst the great owl Hooted for joy of vengeance, and again Spread the wide, deadly, dusky wings.
“Up sprang
Tlie son of Drona : ‘ Lo ! this owl,’ quoth he,
‘ Teacheth me wisdom ; lo ! one slayeth so Insolent foes asleep. The Paudu Lords Are all too strong in arms by day to kill ;
They triumph, being many. Yet I swore Before the King, my Father, I would “ kill ”
And “ kill ” — even as a foolish fly should swear To quench a flame. It scorched, and I shall die If I dare open battle ; but by art Men vanquish fortune and the mightiest odds.
If there be two ways to a wise man’s wish.
Yet only one way sure, he taketh this;
And if it be an evil way, condemned For Brahmans, yet the Kshattriya may do What vengeance bids against his foes. Our foes.
The Pandavas, are furious, treacherous, base.
Halting at nothing; and how say the wise
THE NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER.
215
In holy Shasters ? — “ Wounded, wearied, fed,
Or fasting; sleeping, waking, setting forth,
Or new arriving ; slay thine enemies ; ”
And so again, “’At midnight when they sleep. Dawn when they watch not ; noon if leaders fall ; Eve, should they scatter ; all the times and hours Are times and hours fitted for killing foes.” ’
“ So did the son of Drona steel his soul To break upon the sleeping Pandu chiefs And slay them in the darkness. Being set On this unlordly deed, and clear in scheme.
He from their slumbers roused the warriors twain, Kripa and Kritavarman.”
THE MORNING PRA YER.
Our Lord the Prophet (peace to him !) doth write — Surah the Seventeenth, intituled “ Night ” —
“ Pray at the noon ; pray at the sinking sun ;
In night-time pray ; but most when night is done ; Por daybreak’s prayer is surely borne on high By angels, changing guard within the sky ; ”
And in another place : — “ Dawn’s prayer is more Than the wide world, with all its treasured store.”
Therefore the Faithful, when the growing light Gives to discern a black hair from a white,
Haste to the mosque, and, bending Mecca-way, Eecite Al-Fdtihah while ’tis scarce yet day :
“ Praise he to Allah — Lord of all that live :
Merciful King and Judge ! To Thee we give
THE MORNING PRAYER.
217
Worship and honour ! Succour us, and giiide Where those have walked who rest Thy throne beside : The way of Peace ; the way of truthful speech ;
The way of Righteousness. So we beseech.”
}Ie that saith this, before the East is red,
A hundred prayers of Azan hath he said.
Hear now a story of it — told, I ween.
For your souls’ comfort by Jelal-ud-din,
In the great pages of the Mesnevi;
For therein, plain and certain, shall ye see How precious is the prayer at break of day In Allah’s ears, and in his sight alway How sweet are reverence and gentleness Shown to his creatures. Ali (whom I bless !)
The son of Abu TaUb — he surnamed “ Lion of God,” in many battles famed.
The cousin of our Lord the Prophet (grace Be his !) — uprose betimes one morn, to pace —
As he w'as wont — unto the mosque, wherein Our Lord (bliss live with him !) watched to begin Al-Fdtihah. Darkling was the sky, and straight The lane between the city and mosque-gate,
2i8
THE MORNING PRAYER.
By rough stones broken and deep pools of rain ;
And there through toilfully, with steps of pain,
Leaning upon his staff an old Jew went To synagogue, on pious errand bent :
For those be “People of the Book,” — and some Are chosen of Allah’s will, who have not come Unto full light of wisdom. Therefore he Ah — the Caliph of proud days to be —
Knowing this good old man, and why he stirred Thus early, e’er the morning mills were heard.
Out of his nobleness and grace of soul AFould not thrust past, though the Jew blocked the whole
Breadth of the lane, slow-hobbling. So they went. That ancient first ; and in soft discontent.
After him Ali — noting how the sun
Flared nigh, and fearing prayer might be begun ;
Yet no command upraising, no harsh cry To stand aside ; — because the dignity Of silver hairs is much, and morning praise Was precious to the Jew, too. Thus their ways Wended the pair; Great Ali, sad and slow,
Following the greybeard, while the East, a-glow,
THE MORNING PRAYER.
219
Blazed with bright spears of gold athwart the blue, And the Muezzin’s call came “ lllahu !
AUah-il- Allah!"
In the mosque, our Lord
(On whom he peace !) stood by the Mehrab-board In act to how, and Fdtihah forth to say.
But as his lips moved, some strong hand did lay Over his mouth a palm invisible,
So that no voice on the Assembly fell.
“ Ya ! Rahbi 'lalamina ” thrice he tried To read, and thrice the sound of reading died.
Stayed by this unseen touch. Thereat amazed Our Lord Muhammed turned, arose, and gazed ;
And saw — alone of those within the shrine —
A splendid Presence, with large eyes divine Beaming, and golden pinions folded down.
Their speed still tokened by the fluttered gown. Gabriel he knew, the spirit who doth stand Chief of the Sons of Heav’n, at God’s right hand :
“ Gabriel ! why stayest thou me ? ” the Prophet said, “ Since at this hour the Fdtihah should be read.”
220
THE MORNING PRAYER.
But the bright Presence, smiling, pointed where Ali towards the outer gate drew near.
Upon the threshold shaking ofif his shoes And giving “ alms of entry,” as men use.
“ Yea ! ” spake th’ Archangel, “ sacred is the sound Of morning-praise, and worth the world’s wide round, Though earth were pearl and silver ; therefore I Stayed thee, Muhammed, in the act to cry.
Lest Ali, tarrying in the lane, should miss.
For his good deed, its blessing and its bliss.”
Thereat th’ Archangel vanished : — and our Lord Bead Fdtihah forth beneath the Mehrab-board.
PROVERBIAL WISDOM
FROM THE
SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA.
Dfli {cation
(TO FIRST EDITIOFT).
To rjou, dear Wife — to whom beside so well ? — ■
True Counsellor and tried, at every shift,
I bring my “ Book of Counsels : ” let it tell Largeness of love by littleness of gift :
And take this growth of foreign skies from me,
(A scholar's thanks for gentle help in toil,)
Whose leaf, “ though dark,” like Milton's Hcemony, “ Bears a bright golden flower, if not in this soil.”
April 9, 1 86 1.
PREFACE
TO THE “ BOOK OF GOOD COUNSELS.'’
The Ilitopadeia is a work of high antiquity and extended popularity. The prose is doubtless as old as our own era ; but the intercalated verses and proverbs compose a selection from writings of an age extremely remote. The Mahdhhdrata and the textual Veds are of those quoted; to the first of which Professor M. Williams (in his admirable edition of the WaZa, i860) assigns the modest date of 350 B.C., while he claims for the Rig- Veda an antiquity as high as 1 300 B.C. The Hitopadda may thus be fairly styled “ The Father of all Fables ; ” for from its numerous translations have probably come Esop and Pilpay, and in latter days Reineke Fuchs. Originally compiled in Sanskrit, it was rendered, by order of Nushirvan, in the sixth century A.D., into Persic. From the Persic it passed, a.d. 850, into the Arabic, and thence into Hebrew and Greek. In its own land it obtained as wide a circulation. The Emperor Akbar, impressed with the wisdom of its maxims and the
224
PREFACE.
ingenuity of its apologues, commended the work of translating it to his own Vizier, Abdul Fazel. That Minister accordingly put the book into a familiar style, and published it with explanations, under the title of the Criterion of Wisdom. The Emperor had also sug- gested the abridgment of the long series of shlokes which here and there interrupt the narrative, and the Vizier found this advice sound, and followed it, like the present Translator. To this day, in India, the Hitopadda, under its own or other names (as the Anvdri S^diaili), retains the delighted attention of young and old, and has some representative in all the Indian vernaculars. A selection from the metrical Sanskrit proverbs and maxims is here given.
PROVERBIAL WISDOM
FROM THE
SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA.
This Book of Counsel read, and you shall see.
Fair speech and Sanskrit lore, and Policy.
“ Wise men, holding wisdom highest, scorn dehghts, more false than fair ;
Daily live as if Death’s fingers twined already in thy hair !
“ Truly, richer than all riches, better than the best of gain.
Wisdom is ; unbought, secure — once won, none loseth her again.
p
226
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ Bringing dark things into daylight, solving doubts that vex the mind,
Like an open eye is Wisdom — he that hath her not is blind.”
“ Childless art thou ? dead thy children ? lea\dng thee to vrant and doole ?
Less thy misery than his is, who lives father to a fool.”
“ One wise son makes glad his father, forty fools avail him not :
One moon silvers all that darkness which the silly stars did dot.”
“ Ease and health, obeisant children, wisdom, and a fair- voiced wife —
Thus, great King ! are counted up the five felicities of life.
For the son the sire is honoured ; though the bow-cane bendeth true.
Let the strained string crack in using, and what ser- vice shall it do ? ”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
227
‘‘That which will not be, will not be — and what is to be, will be :
Why not drink this easy physic, antidote of misery ? ”
“ Xay ! but faint not, idly sighing, ‘ Destiny is mightiest,’
Sesaraum holds oil in plenty, but it yieldeth none unpressed.”
“Ah! it is the Coward’s babble, ‘Fortune taketh, For- tune gave ; ’
Fortune 1 rate her like a master, and she serves thee like a slave.”
“ Two-fold is the life we live in — Fate and Will together run:
Two wheels bear life’s chariot onward — Will it move on only one ? ”
“ Look I the clay dries into iron, but the potter moulds the clay :
Destiny to-day is master — Man was master yester- day.”
228
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“Worthy ends come not by wisliing. Wouldst thou? Up, and win it, then !
While the hungry lion slumbers, not a deer comes to his den.”
“ Silly glass, in splendid settings, something of the gold may gain;
And in company of wise ones, fools to wisdom may attain.”
“ Labours spent on the unworthy, of reward the labourer balk;
Like the parrot, teach the heron twenty words, he will not talk.”
“ Ah ! a thousand thoughts of sorrow, and a hundred things of dread.
By the fools unheeded, enter day by day the wise man’s head.”
“ Of the day’s impending dangers, Sickness, Death, and klisery.
One will be; the wise man, W'aking, ponders which that one will be.”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
229
“ Good things come not out of bad things ; wisely leave a longed-for ill.
Nectar being mixed with poison serves no purpose but to kill.”
“Give to poor men, son of Khnti — on the wealthy waste not wealth ;
Good are simples for the sick man, good for nought to him in health.”
“ Be his Scripture-learning wondrous, yet the cheat will be a cheat ;
Be her pasture ne’er so bitter, yet the cow’s milk will taste sweet.”
“ Trust not water, trust not weapons ; trust not clawed nor horned things ;
Neither give thy soul to women, nor thy life to Sons of Kings.”
“ Look ! the Moon, the silver roamer, from whose splen- dour darkness flies.
With his starry cohorts marching, like a crowned king.
230
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
All his grandeur, all his glory, vanish in the Dragon’s jaw;
What is written on the forehead, that will he, and nothing more.”
“ Counsel in danger ; of it
Unwarned, be nothing begun ;
But nobody asks a Prophet,
Shall the risk of a dinner be run ? ”
“ Avarice begetteth anger ; blind desires from her begin ;
A right fruitful mother is she of a countless spawn of sin.”
Be second and not first ! — the share’s the same If all go well. If not, the Head’s to blame.”
“ Passion will be Slave or Mistress : follow her, she brings to woe ;
Lead her, ’tis the way to Fortune. Choose the path
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
23'
“ Wlien the time of trouble cometh, friends may ofttimes irk us most :
For the calf at milking-hour the mother’s leg is tying- post.”
“ In good-fortune not elated, in ill-fortune not dismayed,
Ever eloquent in council, never in the fight affrayed.
Proudly emulous of honour, steadfastly on wisdom set;
These six virtues in the nature of a noble soul are met.
Whoso hath them, gem and glory of the three wide worlds is he ;
Happy mother she that bore him, she who nursed him on her knee.”
“ Small things wax exceeding mighty, being cunningly combined ;
Furious elephants are fastened with a rope of grass- blades twined.”
“ Let the household hold together, though the house be ne’er so small ;
Strip the rice-husk from the rice-grain, and it groweth not at all.”
23'2
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ Sickness, anguish, bonds, and woe Spring from wrongs wrought long ago.”
“ Keep wealth for want, but spend it for thy wife. And wife, and wealth, and all, to guard thy life.”
“ Death, that must come, comes nobly when we give Our wealth, and life, and all, to make men live.”
“ Floating on his fearless pinions, lost amid the noon- day skies.
Even thence the Eagle’s vision kens the carcass where it lies ;
But the hour that comes to all things comes unto the Lord of Air,
And he rushes, madly blinded, to die helpless in the snare.”
Bar thy door not to the stranger, be he friend or be he foe.
For the tree will shade the woodman while his axe doth lay it low.
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
233
Greeting fair, and room to rest in ; fire, and water from the well —
Simple gifts — are given freely in the house where good men dwell ; —
Young, or bent with many winters; rich, or poor, whate’er thy guest.
Honour him for thine own honour — better is he than the best.
“ Pity them that crave thy pity : who art thou to stint thy hoard.
When the holy moon shines equal on the leper and the lord ? ”
When thy gate is roughly fastened, and the asker turns away.
Thence he bears thy good deeds with him, and his sins on thee doth lay.
In the house the husband ruleth ; men the Brahman "master” call;
Agni is the Twice-born’s Master — but the guest is lord of all.
234
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ He who does and thinks no wrong — • He who suffers, being strong —
He whose harmlessness men know — Unto Swarga such doth go.”
“ In the land where no wise men are, men of little wit are lords ;
And the castor-oil’s a tree, where no tree else its shade affords.”
“ Foe is friend, and friend is foe.
As our actions make them so.”
“ That friend only is the true friend who abides when trouble comes ;
That man only is the brave man who can bear the battle-drums ;
Words are wind; deed proveth promise: he who helps at need is kin ;
And the leal wife is loving though the husband lose
or win.'
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
235
“ Friend and kinsman — more their meaning than the idle-hearted mind ;
]ilany a friend can prove unfriendly, many a kinsman less than kind :
lie who shares his comrade’s portion, be he beggar, be he lord.
Comes as truly, comes as duly, to tlie battle as the board —
Stands before the king to succour, follows to the pile to sigh —
He is friend, and he is kinsman ; less would make the name a lie.”
“ Stars gleam, lamps flicker, friends foretell of fate ; The fated sees, knows, hears them — all too late.”
“ Absent, flatterers’ tongues are daggers — present, softer than the silk ;
Shun them ! ’tis a draught of poison hidden under harmless milk ;
236
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
Shun them when they promise little ! Shun them when they promise much !
For, enkindled, charcoal burneth — cold, it doth defile the touch.”
“ In years, or moons, or half-moons three. Or in three days — suddenly,
Knaves are shent — true men go free.”
“ Anger comes to noble natures, but leaves there no strife or storm :
Plunge a lighted torch beneath it, and the ocean grows
00 • O
not warm.”
“ Koble hearts are golden vases — close the bond true metals make ;
Easily the smith may weld them, harder far it is to break.
Evil hearts are earthen vessels — at a touch they crack a-twain.
And what craftsman’s ready cunning can unite the shards again ? ”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
237
Good men’s friendships may be broken, yet abide they friends at heart ;
Snap the stem of Luxmee’s lotus, but its fibres will not part.”
“ One foot goes, and one foot stands, When the wise man leaves his lands.”
Over-love of home were weakness; wheresoe’er the hero come.
Stalwart arm and steadfast spirit find or make for him a home.
Little recks the awless lion where his hunting jungles lie —
When he enters them be certain that a royal prey shall die.”
Very feeble folk are poor folk ; money lost takes wit away:
All their doings fail like runnels, wasting through the
»
summer day.”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
38
Wealth is friends, home, father, brother — title to re- spect and fame ;
Yea, and wealth is held for wisdom — that it should • he so is shame.”
Home is empty to the childless ; hearts to those who friends deplore :
Earth unto the idle-minded ; and the three worlds to the poor.”
Say the sages, nine things name not : Age, domestic joys and woes.
Counsel, sickness, shame, alms, penance ; neither Poverty disclose.
Better for the proud of spirit, death, than life witli losses told ;
Eire consents to he extinguished, but submits not to be cold.”
“ As Age doth banish beauty.
As moonlight dies in gloom.
As Slavery’s menial duty Js Honour’s certain tombj
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
239
As I lari’s name and Hara’s Spoken, charm sin awa}*, So Poverty can surely A hundred virtues slay.”
Half-known knowledge, present pleasure purchased with a future woe,
And to taste the salt of service — greater griefs no man can know.”
All existence is not equal, and all living is not life ;
Sick men live ; and he who, banished, pines for chil- dren, home, and wife ;
And the craven-hearted eater of another’s leavings lives.
And the wretched captive, waiting for the word of doom, survives ;
But they bear an anguished body, and they draw a deadly breath ;
And life cometh to them only on the happy day of death.”
240
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ Golden gift, serene Contentment ! have thou that, and all is had ;
Thrust thy slipper on, and think thee that the earth is leather-clad.”
“ All is known, digested, tested ; nothing new is left to learn
When the soul, serene, reliant, Hope’s delusive dreams can spurn.”
“Hast thou never watched, a- waiting till the great man’s door unbarred ?
Didst thou never linger parting, saying many a sad last word ?
Spak’st thou never word of foUy, one light thing thou would’st recall ?
Eare and noble hath thy life been ! fair thy fortune did befall!”
“True Eeligion! — ’tis not blindly prating what the gurus prate.
But to love, as God hath loved them, all things, be they small or great ;
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
241
And true bliss is when a sane mind doth a healthy body fill ;
And true knowledge is the knowing what is good and what is ill.”
“ Poisonous though the tree of life be, two fair blossoms grow thereon :
One, the company of good men ; and sweet songs of Poets, one.”
“ Give, and it shall swell thy getting ; give, and thou shalt safer keep :
Pierce the tank- wall ; or it yieldeth, when the water waxeth deep.”
“ ^\^len the miser hides his treasure in the earth, he doeth well ;
For he opens up a passage that his soul may sink to hell.”
“ He whose coins are kept for counting, not to barter nor to give.
Breathe he like a blacksmith’s bellows, yet in truth he doth not live.”
Q
242
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ Gifts, bestowed with words of kindness, making giving doubly dear :
Wisdom, deep, complete, benignant, of all arrogancy clear ;
Valour, never yet forgetful of sweet Mercy’s pleading prayer ;
Wealth, and scorn of wealth to spend it — oh ! but these be virtues rare ! ” '
“ Sentences of studied wisdom, nought avail they un- applied ;
Though the blind man hold a lantern, yet his foot- steps stray aside.”
“ Would’st thou know whose happy dwelling Fortune entereth unknown ?
His, who careless of her favour, standeth fearless in his own ;
His, who for the vague to-morrow barters not the sure to-day —
Master of himself, and sternly steadfast to the right- ful way :
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
243
Very mindful of past service, valiant, faithful, true of heart —
Unto such comes Lakshmi smiling — comes, and will not lightly part.”
” Be not haughty, being wealthy ; droop not, having lost thine all ;
Fate doth play with mortal fortunes as a girl doth toss her ball.”
“Worldly friendships, fair but fleeting; shadows of the clouds at noon ;
Women, youth, new corn, and riches; these be plea- sures passing soon.”
“ For thy bread be not o’er thoughtful — Heav’n for all hath taken thought :
When the babe is born, the sweet milk to the mother’s breast is brought.
“ He who gave the swan her silver, and the hawk her plumes of pride.
And his purples to the peacock — He will verily provide.”
244
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ Though for good ends, waste not on wealth a minute ; Mud may be wiped, but wise men plunge not in it.”
“ Brunettes, and the Banyan’s shadow, WeU-springs, and a brick-built wall. Are all alike cool in the summer.
And warm in the winter — all.”
“ Ah ! the gleaming, glancing arrows of a lovely woman’s eye!
Feathered with her jetty lashes, perilous they pass thee by :
Loosed at venture from the black bows of her arching brow, they part.
All too penetrant and deadly for an undefended heart.”
“ Beautiful the Koil seemeth for the sweetness of his song.
Beautiful the world esteemeth pious souls for patience strong ;
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
245
Homely features lack not favour when true wisdom they reveal,
And a wife is fair and honoured while her heart is firm and leal.”
Friend ! gracious word ! — the heart to tell is ill able Whence came to men this jewel of a syllable.”
“ Whoso for greater quits small gain, Shall have his labour for his pain ; The things unwon unwon remain. And what was won is lost again.”
Looking down on lives below them, men of little store are great ;
Looking up to higher fortunes, hard to each man seems his fate.”
As a bride, unwisely wedded, shuns the cold caress of eld.
So, from coward souls and slothful, Lakshmi’s favours turn repelled.”
246
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ Ease, ill-health, home-keeping, sleeping, woman- service, and content —
In the path that leads to greatness these be six obstructions sent.”
“ Seeing how the soorma wasteth, seeing how the ant- hill grows.
Little adding unto little — live, give, learn, as life-time goes.”
“ Drops of water falling, falling, falling, brim the chatty o’er;
Wisdom comes in little lessons — little gains make largest store.”
O
“ Men their cunning schemes may spin — God knows who shall lose or win.”
“ Shoot a hundred shafts, the quarry lives and flies — not due to death ;
When his hour is come, a grass-blade hath a point to stop his breath.”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
247
Robes were none, nor oil of unction, when the King of Beasts was crowned :
’Twas his own fierce roar proclaimed him, rolling all the kingdom round.”
“ What but for their vassals. Elephant and man —
Swing of golden tassels.
Wave of silken fan —
But for regal manner
That the ‘ Chattra ’ brings. Horse, and foot, and banner — What would come of kings ? ”
At the work-time, asking wages — is it like a faithful herd ?
When the work’s done, grudging wages — is that acting like a lord ? ”
Serve the Sun with sweat of body; starve thy maw to feed the flame ;
Stead thy lord with all thy service ; to thy death go, quit of blame.”
248
PROVERBIAL WISDOM,
“ Many prayers for him are uttered whereon many a life relies ;
’Tis but one poor fool the fewer when the greedy jack-daw dies.”
“ Give thy Dog the merest mouthful, and he crouches at thy feet,
Wags his tail, and fawns, and grovels, in his eagerness to eat ;
Bid the Elephant be feeding, and the best of fodder bring ;
Gravely — after much entreaty — condescends that mighty king.”
“ By their own deeds men go downward, by them men mount upward all.
Like the diggers of a well, and like the builders of a wall.”
Bushes down the hill the crag, which upward ’twas so hard to roll ;
So to virtue slowly rises — so to vice quick sinks the soul.”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
249
“ Wlio speaks unasked, or comes unbid, Or counts on service — will be chid.”
“ Wise, modest, constant, ever close at hand,
Not weighing but obeying all command,
Such servant by a Monarch’s throne may stand,”
Pitiful, who fearing failure, therefore no beginning makes.
Why forswear a daily dinner for the chance of stomach-aches ? ”
Nearest to the King is dearest, be thy merit low or high;
Women, creeping plants, and princes, twine round that wliich groweth nigh.”
Pearls are dull in leaden settings, but the setter is to blame ;
Glass wiU glitter like the ruby, dulled with dust — are they the same ? ”
2 50 PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ And a fool may tread on jewels, setting in his turban glass ;
Yet, at selling, gems are gems, and fardels but for fardels pass.”
“ Horse and weapon, lute and volume, man and woman, gift of speech,
Have their uselessness or uses in the one who owneth each.”
“ Not disparagement nor slander kills the spirit of the brave ;
Fling a torch down, upward ever burns the brilliant flame it gave.”
“ Wisdom from the mouth of children be it overpast of none;
What man scorns to walk by lamplight in the absence of the sun ? ”
“ Strength serves Reason. Saith the Mahout, when he beats the brazen drum,
‘ Ho ! ye elephants, to this work must your mighti-
nesses come.
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
2; I
“ Mighty natures war with mighty : when the raging • tempests blow,
O’er the green rice harmless pass they, but they lay the palm-trees low.”
“ Narrow-necked to let out little, big of belly to keep much,
As a flacron is — the Vizier of a Sultan should be such.”
O
“ He who thinks a minute little, like a fool misuses more ;
He who counts a cowry nothing, being wealthy, will be poor.”
“ Brahmans, soldiers, these and kinsmen — of the three set none in charge :
For the Brahman, though you rack him, yields no treasure small or large ;
And the soldier, being trusted, writes his quittance with his sword.
And the kinsman cheats his kindred by the charter of the word ;
252
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
But a servant old in service, worse than any one is thought,
Who, by long-tried license fearless, knows his master’s anger nought.”
“ Never tires the fire of burning, never wearies Death of slaying,
Nor the sea of drinking rivers, nor the bright-eyed of betraying.”
“ From false friends that breed thee strife.
From a house with serpents rife,
Saucy slaves and brawling wife —
Get thee forth, to save thy life.”
” Teeth grown loose, and wicked-hearted ministers, and poison trees.
Pluck them by the roots together ; ’tis the thing that giveth ease."
“ Long-tried friends are friends to cleave to — never leave thou these i’ the lurch :
What man shuns the hie as sinful for that once it burned a church ? ”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
253
“ liaise an evil soul to honour, and his evil bents remain ;
Bind a cur’s tail ne’er so straightly, yet it curleth uj) again.”
“ How, in sooth, should Trust and Honour change the evil nature’s root ?
Though one watered them with nectar, poison-trees bear deadly fruit.”
“ Safe within the husk of silence guard the seed of counsel so
•That it break not — being broken, then the seedling will not grow.”
“ Even as one who grasps a serpent, drowning in the bitter sea.
Death to hold and death to loosen — such is life’s perplexity.”
“ Woman’s love rewards the worthless — kings of knaves exalters be ;
Wealth attends the selfish niggard, and the cloud rains on the sea.”
254
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ Many a knave wins fair opinions standing in fair company,
As the sooty soorma pleases, lighted by a brilliant eye.”
“ Where the azure lotus blossoms, there the alligators hide ;
In the sandal-tree are serpents. Pain and pleasure live allied.”
“ Eich the sandal — yet no part is but a vile thing habits there ;
Snake and wasp haunt root and blossom ; on the boughs sit ape and bear.”
“ As a bracelet of crystal, once broke, is not mended So the favour of princes, once altered, is ended.”
“ Wrath of kings, and rage of lightning — both be very full of dread ;
But one falls on one man only — one strikes many victims dead.”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
255
All men scorn the soulless coward who his manhood doth forget:
On a hfeless heap of ashes fearlessly the foot is set.”
Simple milk, when serpents drink it, straightway into venom turns ;
And a fool who heareth counsel all the wisdom of it spurns.”
“ A modest manner fits a maid.
And Patience is a man’s adorning ;
But brides may kiss, nor do amiss.
And men may draw, at scathe and scorning.”
Serving narrow-minded masters dwarfs high natures to their size :
Seen before a convex mirror, elephants do show as mice.”
Elephants destroy by touching, snakes with point of tooth beguile ;
Kings by favour kill, and traitors murder with a fatal
256
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ Of the wife the lord is jewel, though no gems upon her beam ;
Lacking him, she lacks adornment, howsoe’er her jewels gleam ! ”
“ Hairs three-lakhs, and half-a-lakh hairs, on a man so many grow —
And so many years to Swarga shall the true wife surely go ! ”
“ When the faithful wife, embracing tenderly her husband dead,
^Mounts the blazing pyre beside him, as it were a bridal-bed ;
Though his sins were twenty thousand, twenty thou- sand times o’er-told.
She shall bring his soul to splendour, for her love so large and bold.”
O
Counsel unto six ears spoken, unto all is notified ; \Wien a King holds consultation, let it be with one beside.”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
257
Sick men are for skilful leeches — prodigals for poison- iug—
Fools for teachers — and the man who keeps a secret, for a King.”
"With gift, craft, promise, cause thy foe to yield ; "When these have failed thee, challenge him a-field.”
“ The subtle wash of waves do smoothly pass. Cut lay the tree as lowly as the gi-ass.”
Ten true bowmen on a rampart fifty’s onset may sustain ;
FortaHces keep a country more than armies in the plain.”
Build it strong, and build it spacious, with an entry and retreat ;
Store it well with wood and water, fill its garners full with wheat.”
“ Gems will no man’s life sustain;
Best of gold is golden grain.”
58
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
Hard it is to conquer nature : if a dog were made a King.
’Mid the coronation trumpets he would gnaw his ■ sandal-string.”
’Tis no Council where no Sage is — ’tis no Sage that fears not Law ;
’Tis no Law which Truth confirms not — ’tis no Truth which Fear can awe.”
“ Though base be the Herald, nor hinder nor let, For the mouth of a king is he ;
The sword may be whet, and the battle set.
But the word of his message goes free.”
Better few and chosen fighters than of shaven-crowns a host,
For in headlong flight confounded, with the base the brave are lost.”
Kind is kin, howe’er a stranger — kin unkind is stranger shown ;
Sores hurt, though the body breeds them — drugs relieve, though desert-grown.”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
259
Betel - nut is bitter, hot, sweet, spicy, binding, alkaline —
A demulcent — an astringent — foe to evils intestine ;
(living to the breath a fragrance — to the lips a crimson red ;
A detergent, and a kindler of Love’s llame that lieth dead.
Braise the Gods for the good betel ! — these be thirteen virtues given.
Hard to meet in one thing blended, even in their happy heaven.”
He is brave whose tongue is silent of the trophies of his sword ;
He is great whose quiet bearing marks his greatness well assured.”
“ "Wlien the Priest, the Leech, the Vizier cf a King his flatterers be.
Very soon the King will part with health, and wealth and piety.”
26o
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ Merciless, or mouey-loving, deaf to counsel, false of faith.
Thoughtless, spiritless, or careless, changing course with every breatla.
Or tlie man who scorns his rival — if a prince should choose a foe,
Eipe for meeting and defeating, certes he would choose him so.”
“ By the valorous and unskilful great achievements are not wrought ;
Courage, led by careful Prudence, unto highest ends is brought.”
O
“ Grief kills gladness, winter summer, midnight-gloom the light of day,
Kindnesses ingratitude, and pleasant friends drive pain away ;
Each ends eacli, but none of other surer conquerors can be
Than Impolicy of Fortune — of Misfortune Policy.”
PROVERDIAL WISDOM.
26r
'• Wisdom answers all who ask her, but a fool she can- not aid ;
lllind men in the faithful mirror see not their reflection made.”
'* Where the Gods are, or thy Gi'ini — in the face of Pain and Age,
Cattle, Brahmans, Ivings, and Children — reverently curb thy rage.”
“ Oh, my Prince ! on eight occasions prodigality is none —
In the solemn sacrificing, at the wedding of a son.
When the glittering treasure given makes the proud invader bleed.
Or its lustre bringeth comfort to the people in their need, '
Or when kinsmen are to succour, or a worthv work to end.
Or to do a loved one honour, or to welcome back a friend.”
262
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ Truth, munificence, and valour, are the virtues of a King ;
Royalty, devoid of either, sinks to a rejected thing.”
“ Hold thy vantage ! — alligators on the land make none afraid ;
And the lion’s but a jackal who hath left his forest- shade.”
“ The people are the lotus-leaves, their monarch is the sun —
When he doth sink beneath the waves they vanish every one.
When he doth rise they rise again with bud and blossom rife.
To bask awhile in his warm smile, who is their lord and life.”
‘‘All the cows bring forth are cattle — only now and then is born
An authentic lord of pastures, with his shoulder- scratching horn.”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
263
When the soldier in the battle lays his life down for his king,
Unto Swarga’s perfect glory such a deed his soul shall bring.”
’Tis the fool who, meeting trouble, straightway Destiny reviles.
Knowing not his own misdoing brought his own mis- chance the whiles.”
‘ Time-not-come ’ and ‘ Quick-at- Peril,’ these two fishes ’scaped the net ;
‘ \Miat-will-be-will-be,’ he perished, by the fishermen beset.”
“ Sex, that tires of being true.
Base and new is brave to you !
Like the jungle-cows ye range.
Changing food for sake of change.”
That which will not be will not be, and what is to be wiU be :
Why not drink this easy physic, antidote of misery ? ”
264
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ Whoso trusts, for service rendered, or fair words, an enemy.
Wakes from folly like one falling in his slumber from a tree.’
“ Fellow be with kindly foemeu, rather than with friends unkind ;
Friend and foeman are distinguished not by title but by mind.”
“ Whoso setting duty highest, speaks at need unwel- come things.
Disregarding fear and favour, such an one may suc- cour kings.”
“ Brahmans for their lore have honour; Kshattriyas for their bravery ;
Vaisyas for their hard-earned treasure; Sudras for humility.”
“ Seven foemen of all focmen, very hard to vanquish be : The Truth-teller, the Just-dweller, and the man from passion free,
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
265
Subtle, self-sustained, and counting frequent well- won victories.
And the man of many kinsmen — keep the peace with such as these.”
For the man with many kinsmen answers by them all attacks ;
As the bambu, in the bambus safely sheltered, scorns the axe.”
“ Whoso hath the gift of giving wisely, eqtiitably, well ;
Whoso, learning all men’s secrets, unto none his own will tell :
Whoso, ever cold and courtly, utters nothing that offends.
Such an one may rule his fellows unto Earth’s extremest ends.”
“ Cheating them that truly trust you, ’tis a clumsy villany !
Any knave may slay the child who climbs and slumbers on his knee.”
266
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
“ Hunger hears not, cares not, spares not ; no boon of the starving beg:
O O'
When the snake is pinched with craving, verily she eats her egg.”
“Of the Tree of State the root Kings are — feed what brings the fruit.”
“ Courtesy may cover malice ; on their heads the wood- men bring.
Meaning all the while to burn them, logs and faggots — oh, my King !
And the strong and subtle river, rippling at the cedar’s foot.
While it seems to lave and kiss it, undermines the hanging root.”
O O
“ Weep not ! Life the hired nurse is, holding us a little space ;
Death, the mother who doth take us back into our proper place.”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
267
Gone, with all their gauds and glories: gone, like peasants, are the Kings,
Whereunto this earth was witness, whereof all her record rings.”
For the body, daily wasting, is not seen to waste away. Until wasted; as in water set a jar of unbaked clay.”
And day after day man goeth near and nearer to his fate,
As step after step the victim thither where its slayers wait.”
“ Like as a plank of drift-wood Tossed on the watery main, Another plank encountered. Meets, — touches, — parts again ; So tossed, and drifting ever,
On life’s unresting sea.
Men meet, and greet, and sever.
Parting eternally.”
268
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
Halt, traveller ! rest i’ the shade : then up and leave it !
Stay, Soul! take fill of love; nor losing, grieve it !”
“ Each beloved object born Sets within the heart a thorn.
Bleeding, when they be uptorn ”
“ If thine own house, this rotting frame, doth wither. Thinking another’s lasting — goest thou thither ? ”
“ Meeting makes a parting sure.
Life is nothing but death’s door.”
“ As the downward-running rivers never turn and never stay,
So the days and nights stream deathward, bearing human lives away,”
“ Bethinking him of darkness grim, and death’s un- shunned pain,
A man strong-souled relaxes hold, like leather soaked in rain.”
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
269
“ Fioin tlie day, the hour, the minute, Each life quickens in the womb ; Thence its marcli, no falter in it,
Goes straight forward to the tomb.”
An ’twere not so, would sorrow cease with years ? "Wisdom sees right what want of knowledge fear.^.”
o o
Seek not the wild, sad heart ! thy passions haunt it ; Play hermit in thy house with heart undaunted ;
A governed heart, thinking no thought but good, Makes crowded houses holy solitude.”
Away with those that preach to us the washing off of sin —
Thine own self is the stream for thee to make ablu- tions in :
In self-restraint it rises pure — flows clear in tide of truth.
By widening banks of wisdom, in waves of peace and
270
PROVERBIAL WISDOM.
Bathe there, thou son of Pandu ! with reverence and rite,
For never yet was water wet could wash the spirit ' white.”
" Thunder for nothing, like December’s cloud,
Passes unmarked : strike hard, but speak not loud.”
“ Minds deceived by evil natures, from the good their faith withhold ;
When hot conjee once has burned them, children blow upon the cold.”
!tHE END,
rRINTED BY BALLANTVNH, HANSON AND OX UDINBUKCH AND LONDON
OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.
“ In thi* new volume of IMessrs. Triibner's Oriental Series, Mr. Edwin Arnold does good service by illustratiug, through the medium of bis musical English melodies, the power of Indian poetry to stir European emotions. ‘ The Indian Song of Songs ’ is not unknown to scholars. Mr. Arnold will have introduced it among popular English poems.” — Times.
“ The poem abounds with imagery of Eastern luxuriousness and sen- suousness ; the air seems laden with the sjucy odours of the tropics, and the verse has a richness and a melody sufficient to captivate the senses of the dullest.” — Utandard.
“ The translator, while producing a very enjoyable poem, has adhered with tolerable fidelity to the original text.” — Overland MaiU
“ We certainly wish Mr. Arnold success in his attempt ‘to popularise Indian classics,’ that being, as his preface tells us, the goal towards which he bends his efforts.” — Allen’s Indian Mail.
“ Critics ... of a deeper reading and wider sympathies will com- mend his discretion no less than the poetic skill with which he has clothed this pastoral, crowded ns it is with intensely local imagery, in an English dress. . . . The remaining poems in the volume are but four in number, but two of them, the ‘Rajpoot’s Wife’ and the ‘Rajah’s Ride,’ have such verve and swing in tliem that we hope for some more such ballads from Mr. Arnold’s pen.” — Daily Telegraph.
“This is a really valuable book of poetry. We cordially recommend the book to every lover of poetry.’’ — Manchester Critic.
“ Mr. Arnold exhibits himself a master of the accomplishment of verse. . . . The volume furnishes an hour's very agreeable and refined poetical reading.” — Scotsman.
“Mr. Edwin Arnold has bestowed his unquestionable poetic talents on a very worthy object in translating the Sanskrit idyll, ‘ Gita Govinda,’ into English verse. . . . ‘ The Indian Song of Songs ’ is distinctly a new possession for the lovers of English exotic poetry.” — London Quartmiy Review.
“ It has been reserved to Mr. Arnold to give us such a version as can convey to the European reader an adequate idea of the beauty of Jayadeva’s verse. It is the best yet published, and is not likely to be soon surpassed.” — Academy.
“ In Mr. Edwin Arnold this beautiful composition has found at once an accurate and an elegant translator. He has contrived to present the ‘ Song of Songs ’ in a dress which, while it preserves the spirit of the original, can hardly fail to fascinate the English reader. It has none of the stiffness of a translation, and no more of the strangeness than necessarily belongs to Oriental metaphor and imagery. "VVe have no hesitation iu pronouncing Mr. Arnold's ‘ Song of Songs ’ the worthiest translation any Sanskrit poem of length has yet found.” — The English- man, Calcutta.
“ Complete mastery of the English language, combined with genuine poetic fervour, has enabled the translator of ‘ The Indian Song of Songs’ to spread before his readers a feast of dulcet sounds and lyrical language. Music seems to flow from his pen as naturally as rain from the cloud or song from the throat of the thrush.” — Morning Post.
LONDON: TEUBNER & CO., LUDGATE HILL.
3B\? tbe same Hutbor.
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INDIAN IDYLLS.
FROM THE SANSKRIT OF THE MAHABHARATA.
SAVITRI ; or, Loto and Death. NALA and DAMAYANTI.
The ENCH.ANTED LAKE.
The SAINT'S TEMPTATION. ’
The BIRTH of DEATH.
The NIGHT of SLAUGHTER. The GREAT JOURNEY.
The ENTRY into HEAVEN.
“ To Mr. Edwin Arnold undoubtedly must be accorded a front rank amon^ those who have sought to popularise in England the writings which are so well known in Hindostan ; and this work so undertaken is not only of interest to the student or the lover of poetry, but is also of great value as tending to make Eng- lishmen better acquainted with the habits of thought, the religion, and tlie morality of their Eastern fellow-subjects. The new volume of Indian poetry which Mr. Arnold has just published should, therefore, be cordially welcomed, for it is a fresh link in the chain which connects ourselves and our Oriental Empire. Nobody who reads the heart-stirring epics put into magnificent rhythm which are contained in this book can ever again affect to despise the people whose genius established such an imperishable monument." — Daily Telegraph.
“ All the idylls are marked by the grace of diction and tenderness of tone wliich are among Mr. Arnold’s leading characteristics, whiW it needs scarcely to be said that the style is pure and elevated throughout. The imagery, too, is full of force and fire." — Globe.
“ In his recently published volume of ‘ Indi.an Idylls’ Mr. Arnold continues his task of interpreting to English readers the tender thoughts and graceful imagery of the East. The volume consists of eight graphic pieces from the ‘ Mahabharata,’ one of the two colossal and unparalleled epic poems of India, whieh were not known to Europe even by name till Sir William Jones announced their existence.” — Fortnightly Review.
“ Mr. Arnold has eaten of the lotus-fruit of Eastern song, and finds it h.ard to leave it. And of this we are far from complaining, seeing that this taste of his has enabled many of us to travel into ‘ realms of gold ’ which wo could hardly enter without some such skilful guide.”— S(. Jatruift Gazette.
“The ‘Indian Idylls’ partake of the same character as his previous works, ‘ The Light of Asia,’ ‘ Pearls of the Faith,’ and others, being deeply imbued with the spirit of Oriental poetry, and having the power of rendering that spirit in English language with a verisimilitude and force which cannot fail to convince the reader of the truth of its colouring. As on fonuer occasions, Mr. Arnold adopts what may be regarded as the modern form of verse, rendered familiar to the public by the pens of Tennyson and ‘ Owen Meredith ’ — that crisp, ea.sy flow- ing blank verse which better suits the taste of the day than the more sonorous periods of the Miltonic and Popian schools. None the loss does ho faithfully reflect the tone and colour of the Indian Muse ; indeed it is hardly possible to conceive a vehicle better suited to convey to English readers an idea of the florid Oriental poetry and its faseinating mysticism than that wltieh ho employs." — Few York limes,
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Being the Ninety-nine Beautiful Names of Allah (Asina-el-’HusnA).
With Comments in Verse from various Oriental Sources as made hy an Indian Mussulman.
Mr. Edwin Arnold has succeeded in producing a delightful collection of Oriental stories in verse." — Times.
“ Displays an astonishing wealth and variety of mystical and devotional imagery and allegory, not without a keen perception of the finer and huger human feeling and instinct which has given to the faith of tiie ^losleni its fasci- nation, and is, perhaps, the secret of its power.’’ — Daily Netes.
** 1 am reading Mr. Kdwun Arnold's book with intense delight, for the sake of its majesty and eloquence, its wealth and beauty of imagery, and its sweet and harmonious numbers.”— London AVir* (G. A. Sala).
“ Mr. Arnold . . . appends to each some illustrative legend, tradition, record, or comment, drawn from various sources. These are given in verse, and many of Uieir passages are splendidly written.”— Mercury.
A volume of tasteful verses.” — Li/e.
“There is music in Mr. Arnold's lines, and great diversity of metre ; and if the Koi'an sounds :is sweetly to the Eastern ear, it is scarcely to be wondered at that they regard it with loving awe.” — Bookseller.
“ The command of lucid and c-xquisite English, long ago ackin>wledged in Mr. Arnold, here receives a brilliant exemplification. Better Uian this, however, ai*c the true poet's ideas and sympathies his language serves to clothe. A score of pa&sages contend for quotation ; but we must refer the re:ider to the de>cription of Muhammad’s journey to heaven, and tlie story of King Sheddad’s Pai-adise, for evidence of power alike of thought and utterance, such as gives the author a lofty place among living singers.”— Da ify Teleg>ayh.
“The subject is invested with fa.scinating beauty by the wealth of Oriental illustrations displayed."— Daify Chronicle.
“ Mr. Arnold brings to tlie performance of his task )>eculiar qualifications— great poetic gifts, broad sympathies, and extensive knowledge of Oiiental tongues, idea.s, and methods of thought.” — Scotsman.
“ As splendid in poetry as it is noble and majestic in devotional sentiment." — Sydney Toicn and Country JoumaL
“There is such a delightful imageiy and rhythmical cadence in every line that it positively thrills one with a feeling of abounding pleasure. The air of pure devotion, the unsurpassable power of description, tlie inimitable eloquence and wonderful grace, displayed with a lavish profusion, render this work almost peerless. ” — Society.
“ * Ozair, the Jew,’ is a fine poem ; so is ‘ Solomon’s Signet,’ with the sonorous r«)U of its dactylic verse, a metre of which Mr. Arnold shows a masterly control. But the finest of all is ’ King Sheddad’s Paradise.’ The subject lends itself with peculiar felicity to his genius, which is always at its strongest in Oriental splendour of description.” — Pall Mall Gazette.
“ We cordially recommend this book to those who know the world of Islsm and to those w’ho do not. The former will be pleased to see in an English dress that which they have admired in its Eastern garb ; the latter will be surprised to find how much the .Mohammedan ti'aditions resemble those which they have been accustomed to revere both in the Old Testament and the New. and to admire in some of the more solemn portions of the ‘ Arabian Nights.’” — Vanity Fair,
“ Mr. Arnold has caught the spirit of the Eastern original, so childlike and yet so sage, so simple yet so profound, so tender in feeling yet so strong in sense.”— Standard,
FAITH;
Oil, ISLAM’S ROSARY.
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tbe same Hutbor.
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THE LIGHT OF ASIA;
Or, the GKEAT RENUNCIATION.
Being tlie Life and Teaching of Gautama, Prince of India and Founder of Buddhism.
(As told in verse by an Indian Buddhist.)
OPINIONS OF THE PBESS.
“It is a work of great beauty. It tells a story of intense interest, wliicb never flags for a moment ; its descriptions are drawn by the hand of a master with the eye of a poet and the familiarity of .an expert with the objects described ; its tone is so lofty that there is nothing with which to conijiare it but the New Testament ; it is full of variety, now picturesque, now pathetic, now rising into the noblest realms of thought and aspir.ation ; it finds language penetniting, fluent, elevated, impas- sioned, musical .always, to clothe its varied thoughts and sentiments.” — Oliver Wendell Holmes, International Review.
“ Mr. Arnold, one of the most musical and thoughtful of modern writers of verse, has given to the world in ‘ The Light of Asia ’ a poem which is for many reasons remarkable. . . . Entirely apart from the vivid beauty of the scene as set forth in these noble lines, it is worthy of note with what inimitable success the figure of onomatopoeia is employed ; it is impossible to conceive of anything more perfect in this way than such a line as that descriptive of the successive rises of the (Himalayan) preci- pice. . . . Not the least of his merits is that he writes such pure and delicious English. . . ‘ The Light of Asia' is a noble and worthy poem.” — Morning Post.
“At the same time it may be said that there is scarcely a line which does not bear the stamp of the genuine poet, whether we regard the general loftiness of the tone, the nobility of the sentiment expressed, the richness of imagery, or the music of rhythm. If the sweetness of lan- gu.age sometimes cloys our Northern taste, which requires moie of the rugged and heroic as a foil to the ethereal, the fault must not be charged 111)011 the singer, but upon the subject with which ho deals.” — Examiner.
“ But it is not merely on account of its subject that this poem deserves attention ; it is full of poetic merit, and its descriptions are often ex- ceedingly beautiful.” — Athenceum.
“No poetical work so thoroughly original as that of Mr. Edwin Arnold lins .appeared for many years. And it is not only original in its character, but strikingly beautiful in its language. The author by this poem takes a rank ns a poet which probably would not have been predicted for him even by the most ardent admirer of his ‘Indian Song of Songs."' — Northern Whig.
5
“ In his finer moments he writes with a power, a movement, and a variety of cadence not easily to be m.atched in ilays when the art of blank verse is so little legitimately studied ; and with a vigorous beauty of diction inclining to the Saxon forms, but not thereby losing scholarly elegance. . . . Man and nature, in Mr. Arnold's book, are thorougbly Indian. Not the least among the great merits of his work is its glowing local colour." — New Quarterly Mayazine.
“ Mr. Arnold’s magnificent poem, which is alike remarkable for its prodigious erudition, its vivid local colour, and the exquisite polish and melody of its rhythm.” — Liverpool Mail.
“ ‘ The Light of Asia’ is charming to rea<l, suggestive of thought, and deserving of study. . . . For elevation of thought, uniformly iiicturesque and appropriate expression, and faultless music of rhythm — these quali- ties sustained throughout a long and symmetrical comi>osition — ‘The Light of Asia’ is altogether without a rival in contemporary literature. No such poem has appeared since ‘ Childe Harold.’’’ — I'/ic Pioneer, Allahabad.
”... As pure as anything in Tennyson’s ‘ Princess.’” . . . — Bombay Gazelle-Summary.
“ Mr. Arnold has constructed a poem, which for affluence of imagina- tion, splendour of diction, and virile descriptive power, will not be easily matched among the most remarkable productions in the literature of the day. . . A poem equally striking for the novelty of its conception, its vigour of execution, and the exquisite beauty of its descriptive passages.” — New York Daily Tribune.
“ ‘ The Light of Asia ’ is a remarkable poem, and worthy of a place amongst the great poems of our time. Sir. Arnold is far more than ‘ a coiner of sweet words’ — he is the exponent of noble impressions. He is a scholar and a philosopher; but he is also a true singer.” — Daily Ttlcerraph.
“AVith much skill Mr. Arnold has illustrated his narrative with a series of Indian pictures, the fascination of which will be felt by those who know India.” — Pall Mall Gazette.
“Mr. Arnold’s skill has not failed him. AVith a sure hand he has limned for us a portrait which is admirable in its fidelity to the accepted traditions of the original, which his knowledge of India and her people has enabled him to surround with the proper accessories, without once descending to the commonplace. . . . On these, as on other points, however, the author’s wide knowledge of India and genuine interest in his subject enhance the value of his researches, and entitle his opinions to respect, while his powers of description carry the reader with them. In fact, in reading this remarkable poem, many will in imagination be transported again to the East, or revive with jileasure, in wonderful freshness, long dormant memories of that far-off land.”— 0'<serrer.
“ AVe must testify to the grace and beauty of the poem. It is in truth an ‘ Idyll of the King,’ with Gautama instead of Arthur for its hero, and Nirvfina instead of the Christian ideal and the Holy Graal as his aim. There is a fragrance of Tennyson's best poems about it, and there is no slavish imitation of the Laureate.” — Edinburgh Courant.
“ It is as a poem first, and afterwards as a fine ethical study, that the work demands attention, and in both of these characters it is a work of an unusually high oxdtT.”— Evening Post, New York.
I
6
“ III Mr. Edwin Arnold, Indian iioetry and Indian tlionglit liave at lengtli found a worthy English exponent. He brings to his work the facility of a ready pen, a thorough knowledge of his subject, a great sympathy for the people of the country, and a command of imhlic atten- tion at home.” — Calcutta Englishman.
“ One is the more surprised in reading this poem to learn that the writer has created this lovely work of art, not in the stillness of a coun ry solitude, nor amid the cloistered aisles of universities, but right in the throng and uproar of the bustling metropolis.” — Springfield Sunday Republican.
“ Mr. Arnold may be congratulated on the successful accomplishment of the difficult task he has set himself ; and those who feel at all in sympathy with the subject will be able to appreciate the beauty of the picture he has drawn.” — Academy.
“ "U'e have no doubt that this poem will make its mark, for it worthily treats a great theme. Future years may perhaps see it translated into some languages of the East in those countries where the name of Buddha is venerated, and his doctrine, with many adjuncts and corruptions, is followed to this day.” — Tablet.
“ ‘The Light of Asia' should have many readers, and it certainly will add not a little to Jlr. Arnold’s literary reputation.” — Eastern Morning Neics.
“ This is no criticism of a religion supposed to be false, but the sympa- thetic presentment of a religion, so much of which is true, as from the mouth of a votary.” — Westcrii Morning Ifeu-s.
“ In looking through the volume, one is struck with wonder at the marvellous richness of its imagery, its profundity of thought and purity of diction. . . . Thus ends one of the most remarkable books of the day, and one which is destined to do a great work in enlightening English readers.” — Boston Evening Transcript.
" For brilliancy of imagination, flow and picturesqueness of language, strength and vigour of expression, depth of thought, and fascinating melody of versification, this work stands almost without a rival in modern poetry. . . . The local colour of the scenes amid which the story passes is reproduced with a skill little short of marvellous. Grace, impressive dignity, nobility of sentiment, and the highest religious aspirations dis- tinguish the tone of this masterly poem from beginning to end. It often rises to sublimity, and never sinks below loftiness either in thought or expres.sion. . . . Every page of this volume will afford pleasure to the cultureil reader, and to the lover of true poetry it will be a perpetual delight.” — Boston Saturday Evening Gazette.
“ It is as a poem first, and afterwards ns a fine ethical study, that the work demands attention, and in both of these charactei-s it is a work of an unusually high order, a gre.at work despite certain inequalities of execution, which are not worth pointing out in detail.” — Troy [N. Y.) Press.
“ It must be said of Mr. Arnold, however, that he made remarkable use of his time while in Hindostan, winning not only the decoration of the Order of the .Star of India, but, by patient investigation concerning the religion and the language of the ruling classes and tribes, now giving to the world an epic glowing in its imagery, exquisite in its description, and of rare excellence in its religious, philosophical, and literary a.spects.” — The Weekly Item, Philadelphia.
7
“ Nothing like it, indeed, has appeared for many years ; and whether we consider the majesty of its theme, the grace and s(>lendour of its workmanship, the freshness of its details, or the circumstances of its authorship, it is alike one of the remarkable works of modern litera- ture.”— Boston Literary iVorlJ.
“ . . . The really sublime poem which Mr. Arnold puts into the mouth of a Buddhist devotee who speaks throughout, now in eloquent and highly ornate description, anon in vivid narrative, again in rapt worship. . . .
“ We cannot spare the space to enter upon the story of Buddha as told by Mr. Arnold, since it is a duty to point out how artistically he has wrought up his epic with many a gem of purest ray serene, and passages that thrill through as we rend them, and recall the glorious Orient scenes that gave such thoughts their birth. . . .
“ To criticise is impossible ; we can only admire and wonder at the wealth and the truth of epithet at the command of one who has composed his poem ‘in the brief interval of days without leisure.’ Yet, if we do not err, ‘ The Light of A.sia ’ will live in our language for many a long year. It is one of those works which grow upon the attention. It has within it enduring merits, and it will be more popular and better com- prehended a generation hence than it is to-day. Many are the names of prominent men who stand ujion the list of the winners of the ‘ Newdi- gate.’ By this one work Mr. Edwin Arnold overtojo them all, and enters the narrow circle of the Masters.” — Morning Advertisir.
“ At last we have a classic — a work of inspiration and power, which must broaden and brighten humanity, and give delight to many genera- tions. The praise with which the higher critics have greeted ‘ The Light of Asia ' will not prepare the reader for disappointment.’ As editor of the London Daily TeUirraph, the author can hardly be called a man of leisure ; yet his lofty verse seems to have sung itself out of the regions of mystic calm ; and even as a piece of literary work it wears an elegant finish and masterly completeness.
“Surely it is by sucli messages as this poem bears that the Christians who believe too narrowly, and the sceptics who believe not at all, learn the truth of what our own Lowell sang —
‘ God sends His teachers into every age and clime.
With revelations suited to their growth.’
“ The essence of the life of Prince Siddartha or Gautama is here dis- tilled from the mingled mass of historic fact and legend, without loss of the rich aroma.” — The Christian Register, Boston.
“ . . . It is as worthy of his pen as the poet has showed himself worthy of the subject. There is a unity of Oriental colouring in the descriptive portion of the work, a truthfulness of motive evinced in the masterly handling of Buddha’s character, which are as precious as unique ; inas- much as they present this character, for the first time in the history of ■\Vestern literature, in the totality of its unadulterated beauty.” — The Theosophist.
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