THE WORSHIP OF THE BULL AND OF THE COW IN INDIA, AND THE BRÂHMANIC
LEGENDS RELATING TO IT.
SUMMARY.
The princes called bulls.--The bull the symbol of the god
Çivas.--The cow was not to be killed.--Exchange of the bull and the
cow for other animals; the bull and the cow, considered as the
greatest reward desired by the legislating priests of India.--The
cow's hide in nuptial usages a symbol of abundance; its elasticity
and power of extension; the cow and its hide during the pregnancy of
women an augury of happy birth, and in funeral ceremonies an augury
of resurrection.--Cows sent to pasture with auguries.--Cows seen by
night in a dream are a sinister omen; meaning of this Hindoo
superstition.--The black cow which produces white milk in the Vedic
hymns.--The reins of the cow or black goat sacrificed in funerals
given as a viaticum or provision to the dead man, that they may
contribute to his resurrection.--The variegated cow comes again in a
brâhmanam, and is interpreted as a cloud.--The coming out of the
cow-dawns feasted.--The cornucopia.--The milk of the cows is the
serpent's poison.--The salutary herb.--The enchanted gem, the ring
of recognition.--The moon, as a female, a good fairy who works for
the aurora, and who entertains and guides the hero.--The moon, as a
male, a white bull.--The city of the moon.--Indras consoles and
nourishes the unhappy Sîtâ.--Râmas assimilated to Indras.--The
coadjutors of Râmas are those of Indras.--The bull Râmas.--The names
of the monsters and the names of the heroes in the
Râmâyanam.--Râmas, the Hindoo Xerxes, chastises the sea.--The
celestial ocean; the cloud-mountains carried by the heroes; the
bridge across the sea made of these mountains; while the bridge is
being made, it rains.--The battle of Râmas is a winter and a
nocturnal one, in a cloudy sky.--The monster barrel again; the
monster trunk with a cavity; Kabandhas.--The dying monster thanks
the hero, who delivers him from an ancient malediction, and becomes
again a handsome luminous youth.--The dawn Sîtâ sacrificed in the
fire.--Sîtâ daughter of the sun.--The Buddhist legend of Râmas and
Sîtâ.--Sîtâ predestined as the reward of valour.--An indiscretion of
the husband Râmas causes him to lose his wife Sîtâ.--The story of
Urvaçî again, the first of the auroras; the wife flees because her
husband has revealed her secret, because her husband has looked at
another woman, because he has let himself be seen naked; the
fugitive wife hides herself in a plant.--The wife stays with her
husband as long as he says nothing displeasing to her.--The wife
kills her sons; the husband complains and the wife flees.--The
contrary.--The story of Çunahçepas again.--The god Varunas, who
binds; the son sacrificed to the monster against his will by his
father.--The hero-hunter.--The middle son sold, the son of the
cow.--The cow herself, Aditi, or Çabalâ, or Kâmadhuk, wife of
Vasishtas, sacrificed instead of the son of Viçvâmitras.--Indras
delivers the bound hero, _i.e._, he delivers himself. The aurora, or
the daughter of the black one, liberates Çunahçepas, bound by the
black one, that is, she delivers the sun her husband.--The fetters
of Varunas and of Agigartas are equivalent to the bridle of the
horse and to the collar of the dog sold to the demon in European
fairy tales.--The golden palace of Varunas on the western
mountain.--Monstrous fathers.--Identification of Hariçcandras,
Agigartas, and Viçvâmitras.--The contention of Viçvâmitras and
Vasishtas for the possession of the cow Çabalâ.--Demoniacal
character of Viçvâmitras.--The sister of the monster-lover or
seducer of the hero.--The cloud drum.--The cloudy monster Dundubhis,
in the form of a buffalo with sharpened horns, destroyed by the son
of Indras.--The buffalo a monster, the bull a hero.--Krishnas the
monster becomes a god.--The god Indras fallen for having killed a
brâhman monster.--The three heads of the monster cut off at a
blow.--The three brothers in the palace of Lañkâ; the eldest brother
has the royal dignity; the second, the strong one, sleeps, and only
wakens to eat and prove his strength; the third is good and is
victorious.--The three brothers Pândavas, sons of Yamas, Vâyus and
Indras in the Mahâbhâratam; the first is wise, the second is strong,
the third is handsome and victorious; he is the best.--Again the
three working brothers entertained by a king.--The three disciples
of Dhâumyas.--The blind one who falls into the well.--The voyage of
Utañkas to hell.--He meets a bull.--The excrement of the bull,
ambrosia.--The stone uplifted with the help of the lever, of the
thunderbolt of Indras.--The earrings of the queen carried off; their
mythical meaning.--Indras and Krishnas also search for the
earrings.--The three Buddhist brothers.--The eldest brother frees
the younger ones by his knowledge in questions and riddles.--The
hero and the monster ill or vulnerable in their feet.--The two rival
sisters.--The good sister thrown into the well by the wicked
one.--The prince comes to deliver her.--The wicked sister takes the
place of the good one.--The three brothers again.--The sons make
their father and mother recognise each other.--The third brother,
Pûrus, the only good one, assists his aged father Yayâtis, by taking
his old age upon himself.--The old blind man, Dîrghatamas, thrown
into the water by his sons.--Yayâtis and Dîrghatamas, Hindoo King
Lears.--The queen Sudeshnâ makes her maid or foster-sister take her
place; a Hindoo form of Queen Berta.--The blind and the crooked or
lame, or hunchbacked, again with the three-breasted princess.--They
cure each other.--The bride disputed by the brothers.--The aurora
and the sun flee from each other.--The beautiful girl, the daughter
of the sun, flees after having seen the prince upon the
mountain.--The prince cannot overtake her; the third time, at last,
the prince marries the daughter of the sun.--The marvellous cow of
Vasishthas.--The hero Vasishthas wishes to kill himself, but cannot;
he is immortal; he throws himself down from the mountain and does
not hurt himself; he goes through fire and is not burnt; he throws
himself into the water and does not drown; mythical signification of
these prodigies.--The wind runs after women.--Conclusion of the
study of the myth and of the legends which refer to the bull and the
cow of India.
Just as the importance of the cattle to primitive and pastoral Aryan
life explains the propensity of the Aryan mind to conceive of the
mobile phenomena of the heavens, at first considered living beings, as
bulls and cows, so the consecration of these animals, associated and
identified with the celestial phenomena and the gods, naturally gave
rise to the superstitious worship of the bull and the cow, common to
all the Aryan nations, but particularly, through the intervention of
the brâhmanic priests, to the Hindoos.
It is a remarkable fact that the words _vrishas_, _vrishabhas_, and
_rishabhas_, which mean the bull as the one who pours out, the
_foecundator_, is often used in Sanscrit to denote the best, the
first, the prince; and hence the bull, that is to say, the best
_foecundator_, is in India the most sacred symbol of royalty. For this
reason the phallic and destroying god, the royal _Çivas_, who inhabits
_Gokarnas_ (a word which properly means cow's ear), has both for his
steed and his emblem a brâhmanic bull, _i.e._, a bull with a hunch on
its back; the _nandin_, or joyful attribute, being given to Çivas
himself, inasmuch as, being the _Deus phallicus_, he is the god of
joyfulness and beatitude.[132]
Still more honour is paid to the cow (like the Vedic dawn _anavadyâ_,
innocent or inculpable[133]), which therefore it was a crime to
kill.[134] An interesting chapter of the _Âitareya-brâhmanam_,[135] on
the sacrifice of animals, shows us how, next to man, the horse was the
supreme sacrifice offered to the gods; how the cow afterwards took the
place of the horse; the sheep, of the cow; the goat, of the sheep;
and, at last, vegetable products were substituted for animals;--a
substitution or cheating of the gods in the sacrifice, which, perhaps,
serves to explain even more the fraud of which, in popular stories,
the simpleton is always the victim; the simpleton here being the god
himself, and the cheater man, who changes, under a sacred pretext, the
noblest and most valued animals for common and less valuable ones, and
finally for vegetables apparently of no value whatever. In the Hindoo
codes of law we have the same fraudulent substitution of animals under
a legal pretext. "The killer of a cow," says the code attributed to
_Yâgnavalkyas_,[136] "must stay a month in penitence, drinking the
_pancagavyam_ (_i.e._, the five good productions of the cow, which,
according to Manus,[137] are milk, curds, butter, urine, and dung),
sleeping in a stable and following the cows; and he must purify
himself by the gift of another cow." Thus, according to
_Yâgnavalkya_,[138] the killer of a parrot is purified by giving a
two-year-old calf; the killer of a crane by giving a calf three years
old; the killer of an ass, a goat, or a sheep, by the gift of a bull;
the killer of an elephant by the gift of five black bulls
(_nîlavrishâp_). And one need not be astonished to find these
contracts (which remind one of that between Jacob and Laban) in the
Hindoo codes of law, when, in the Vedic hymns themselves, a poet
offers to sell to whoever will buy it, an Indras of his, that is to
say, a bull, for ten cows.[139] Another interesting verse of
_Yâgnavalkyas_[140] tells us they die pure who are killed by lightning
or in battle for the sake of the cows or the brâhmans. The cow was
often the object heroes fought for in heaven; the Brâhman wished to be
the object heroes should fight for upon earth.
We learn from the domestic ceremonies referred to by _Grihyasûtrâni_
with how much respect the bull and the cow were treated as the symbols
of abundance in a family. In _Âçvalâyanas_,[141] we find the bull's
hide stretched out near the nuptial hearth, the wife seated upon it,
and the husband, touching his wife, saying, "May the lord of all
creatures allow us to have children;"--words taken from the Vedic
nuptial hymn.[142] We have seen above how the Ribhavas, from the hide
of a dead cow, formed a new and beautiful one, or, in other words,
how, from the dusk of evening, by stretching it in the night, they
formed the dawn of morning. This cow's hide plays also an important
_rôle_ in the popular faith; an extraordinary elasticity is attributed
to it, a power of endless expansibility, and for this reason it is
adopted as a symbol of fecundity, upon which the wife must place
herself in order to become a mother of children. The cow's hide
(_gocarman_), in the _Mahâbhâratam_,[143] is the garment of the god
Vishnus; and the gocarman divided into thongs, and afterwards fastened
to each other, served formerly in India to measure the circumference
of a piece of ground;[144] hence the cow's hide suggested the idea of
a species of infinity. Further on we shall find it put to
extraordinary uses in western legend; we find it even in the hymns of
the Vedic age used to cover the body of a dead man, the fire being
invoked not to consume it, almost as if the cow's hide had the virtue
of resuscitating the dead.[145]
The cow, being the symbol of fruitfulness, was also the companion of
the wife during pregnancy. _Âçvalâyanas_[146] tells us how, in the
third month, the husband was to give his wife to drink of the sour
milk of a cow that has a calf like itself, and in it two beans and a
grain of barley; the husband was then to ask his wife three times,
"What drinkest thou?" and she was to answer three times: "The
generation of males." In the fourth month, the wife, according to
_Âçvalâyanas_, was to put herself again upon the bull's hide, near the
fire of sacrifice, when they again invoked the god _Pragâpatis_, lord
of all creatures, or of procreation; the moon, like a celestial bull
and cow, was invited to be present at the generation of men;[147] and
a bull, during the Vedic period, was the gift which sufficed for the
priest. In the Vedic antiquity, neither bulls nor cows were allowed to
go to pasture without some special augury, which, in the domestic
ceremonials of _Âçvalâyanas_,[148] has been also handed down to us;
the cows were to give milk and honey, for the strength and increase of
whoever possessed them. Here we have again the cows not only as the
beneficent, but as the strong ones, they who help the hero or the
heroine who takes them to pasture.
But although beautiful cows, when seen by day, are a sign of good
luck, seen in dreams they are of evil omen; for in that case they are
of course the black cows, the shadows of night, or the gloomy waters
of the nocturnal ocean. Already in the _Rigvedas_, the dawn, or the
luminous cow, comes to deliver the fore-mentioned solar hero, Tritas
Aptyas, from the evil sleep which he sleeps amidst the cows[149] of
night. _Âçvalâyanas_, in his turn, recommends us when we have an evil
dream, to invoke the sun, to hasten the approach of the morning, or,
better still, to recite the hymn of five verses to the dawn which we
have already referred to, and which begins with the words, "And like
an evil dream amidst the cows." Here the belief is not yet an entirely
superstitious one; and we understand what is meant by the cows who
envelop us in the sleep of night, when we are told to invoke the sun
and the dawn to come and deliver us from them.
A cow (probably a black one), often a black goat, was sometimes also
sacrificed in the funeral ceremonies of the Hindoos, as if to augur
that, just as the black cow, night, produces the milky humours of the
aurora, or is fruitful, so will he who has passed through the kingdom
of darkness rise again in the world of light. We have already seen the
black night as the mother of the white and luminous aurora; I quote
below yet another Vedic sentence, in which a poet ingenuously wonders
why the cows of Indras, the black ones as well as the light-coloured
(the black clouds, as well as the white and red ones), should both
yield white milk.[150] And even the gloomy nocturnal kingdom of Yamas,
the god of the dead, has its cows of black appearance, which are
nevertheless milk-yielding; and thus the black cow of the funeral
sacrifices comes to forebode resurrection.
In the same way the viaticum, or provision of food for his journey,
given to the dead man is a symbol of his resurrection. The journey
being considered as a short one, the provision of food which is to
sustain the traveller to the kingdom of the dead is limited, and each
dead hero carries it with him, generally not so much for himself, as
to ensure a passage into the kingdom of the dead. For this reason we
read, even in the domestic ceremonials of _Âçvalâyanas_, that it is
recommended to put into the hands of the dead man,[151] what is the
greatest symbol of strength, the reins of the animal killed in the
funeral sacrifice (or, in default of an animal victim, at least two
cakes of rice or of flour), in order that the dead man may throw them
down the throats of the two Cerberi, the two sons of the bitch
_Saramâ_, so that they may let the deceased enter scatheless into the
death-kingdom, the mysterious kingdom of Yamas; and here we find the
monster of the popular tales, into whose house the hero, having passed
through many dangers, enters, by the advice of a good fairy or of a
good old man, giving something to appease the hunger of the two dogs
who guard its gate.
They who return from the funeral must touch the stone of Priapus, a
fire, the excrement of a cow,[152] a grain of barley, a grain of
sesame and water,--all symbols of that fecundity which the contact
with a corpse might have destroyed.
The Vedic hymns have shown us the principal mythical aspects and
functions of the cow and the bull; we have also seen how the brâhmanic
codes confirmed, by the sanction of law, the worship of these animals,
and how jealously the domestic tradition of the Hindoos has guarded
it. Let us now see from the _Âitareya-brâhmanam_, how the Brâhmans
themselves, those of the era immediately following that of the Vedâs,
interpreted the myth of the cow.
We have recognised in the Vedic heavens, as reflected in the hymns of
the _Rigvedas_, three cows--the cow-cloud, the cow-moon, and the
cow-aurora. These three cows, and especially the first and the third,
are also quite distinct from one another in the _Âitareya-brâhmanam_.
It tells us how the _gâuh priçnih_, the variegated cow, or spotted
cow, of the _Rigvedas_, must be celebrated to make the earth
fruitful[153] (or that one must sing to the cloud that it may
fertilise the pastures and fields with rain), and how one must
sacrifice a bull to _Viçvakarman_ (or the one that does all), who is
transformed into the god Indras when killing the demon Vritras,[154]
or the monster who keeps the rain in the cloud.
It shows us the full moon, _Râkâ_, joined to the aurora, as a source of
abundance,[155] and the aurora with the cow.[156] It tells us explicitly
that the characteristic form of the aurora is the red cow, because she
moves with the red cows.[157] The gods, after having discovered the cows
in the cavern, open the cavern with the third libation of the
morning;[158] when the cows come out, the gods, the _Âdityâs_, also come
out; hence the coming forth of the gods (_Âdityânâm ayanam_) is
equivalent to the coming forth of the cows (_gavâm ayanam_). The cows
come out when they have their horns, and adorn themselves.[159]
The aurora is a cow; this cow has horns; her horns are radiant and
golden. When the cow aurora comes forth, all that falls from her horns
brings good luck; hence in the _Mahâbhâratam_,[160] the benefits
received from a holy hermit, called Matañgas, are compared to those of
a _gavâm ayanam_, _i.e._, a coming out of cows. To understand this
simile, besides a reference to the Vedic texts, it is necessary to
compare it with the modern usages of India, in which, in celebration
of the new solar year, or the birth of the pastoral god Krishnas (the
god who is black during the night, but who becomes luminous in the
morning among the cows of the dawning, or among the female cowherds),
it is customary, towards the end of December, to give cows to the
Brâhmans, exchange presents of cows and calves, besprinkle one another
with milk, to adorn a beautiful milch cow, crown her with flowers,
gild her horns, or paint them various colours, to deck her to
overloading with flowers, fruit, and little cakes, and then hunt her
from the village to the sound of drums and trumpets, in order that,
full of terror, she may flee away with distraction and impetuosity.
The cow loses her ornaments in her flight, and these, being estimated
as propitious treasures, are eagerly picked up by the faithful, and
preserved as sacred relics.[161]
In the _Âitareya-brâhmanam_,[162] the sun is born of the cows (_gogâ_),
is the son of the cow aurora; as the sun's mother she naturally
nourishes him with her milk; hence the same _Âitareya_[163] tells us
that the gods Mitras and Varunas, by means of the curdled milk, took
from the drink of the gods the inebriating poison which the long-tongued
witch (_Dîrghagihvî_) had poured into it. This curdled milk is the same
milky sea, with health-giving herbs scattered in it, and which the gods
agitate to form ambrosia, in the _Râmâyanam_, the _Mahâbhâratam_, and
the Puranic legends; a sea and herbs which we find already spoken of
together in a Vedic hymn.[164] But in the sky, where the ambrosial milk
and the health-giving herbs are produced, there are gods and demons; and
the milk, which is at one time the rain, at another ambrosia, is now in
the cloud, now in the moon (called also _Oshadhipatis_, or lord of
herbs), now round the dawn. Hanumant, who, in the _Râmâyanam_, goes in
quest of the health-giving grass to restore their souls to the half-dead
heroes, looks for it now between the mountain bull (_rishabhas_) and the
heavenly mountain _Kâilasas_, now between the Mount Lunus (_Çandras_)
and the mountain cup (_Dronas_); and the mountain which possesses the
herb for which Hanumant is searching is itself called herb (_oshadhis_),
or the one that causes to rejoice with perfumes (_Gandhamâdanas_[165]),
which two words are used synonymously. Here the milky, ambrosial, and
healthful humour is supposed to be produced, not by a cow, but by an
herb. And the gods and demons contend in heaven for the possession of
this herb, as well as for the ambrosia; the only difference being that
the gods enjoy both one and the other without corrupting them, whilst
the demons poison them as they drink them; that is to say, they spread
darkness over the light, they move about in the darkness, in the gloomy
waters, in the black humour which comes out of the herb itself, which,
in contact with them, becomes poisonous, so that they in turn suck the
poison. On the other hand, the _Gandharvâs_,[166] an amphibious race, in
whom at one time the nature of the gods predominates, at another that of
the demons, and who consequently take now the side of the gods, now that
of the demons, are simply guards who, as against theft, keep watch and
ward over the perfumes and healthful herbs, which are their own
property, and the healthful or ambrosial waters, the ambrosia which
belongs to their wives, the nymphs; they are, in a word, the earliest
representatives of the enjoying and jealous proprietor. We have already
heard, in the _Rigvedas_, the demoniacal monsters call on each other to
suck the poison of the celestial cows; and we have seen that the
_Âitareya-brâhmanam_ accuses a witch of being the poisoner of the divine
ambrosia; we have, moreover, noticed that a Vedic hymn already
associates together the ambrosial milk and the healthful herb, and that,
in the brâhmanic cosmogony, the milk and the herb which produces it are
manifested together, which herb or grass is beneficent or the reverse
according as the gods or the demons enjoy it; from all which it will be
easy to understand this interesting Hindoo proverb, "The grass gives
the milk to the cows, and the milk gives the poison to the
serpents."[167] It is indeed the milk of the cow of the dawn and of the
cow of the moon which destroys the serpents of darkness, the demoniacal
shadows of night.
But the idea of the healthful herb is incorporated in another image,
very familiar to the popular Indo-European legends, and which is
contained even in the Vedic hymns. The cow produces the sun and the
moon; the circular shape, the disc of sun and moon, suggests variously
the idea of a ring, a gem, and a pearl; and the sun, _Savitar_, he who
gives the juice, and the generator, is introduced in a Vedic hymn, as
the one who has immortal juice, who gives the pearl.[168] The humours of
the cow have passed to the herb, and from the herb to the pearl; and the
naturalness of this figure recommends itself to our modern conception,
for when we would describe a diamond or other gem as of the purest
quality, we say it is a diamond or gem of the first water. Even the
pearl-moon and the pearl-sun, from their ambrosial humours, have a fine
water. In the _Râmâyanam_,[169] at the moment of production of ambrosia
from the stirring up of the milky sea, we see, near the healthful
herb, the gem _Kâustubhas_, the same which we afterwards find on the
breast of the sun-god Vishnus, and which is sometimes his navel;
whence Vishnus, in the _Mahâbhâratam_,[170] is saluted by the name of
_ratnanâbhas_--that is to say, he who has a pearl for his navel; as the
sun is in like manner saluted by the name of _Maniçriñgas_--_i.e._, who
has horns of pearls.[171] In the _Râmâyanam_,[172] the bright-shining
grass and the solar disc appear together on the summit of the mountain
Gandhamâdanas; no sooner does he smell its odour than the solar hero
_Lakshmanas_, delivered from the iron that oppressed him, lifts himself
up from the ground; _i.e._, scarcely has the sun formed his disc, and
begun to shine like a celestial gem, than the sun-hero, whom the
monsters had vanquished during the night, rises in victory. And it is on
the summit of the mountain that, with a mountain metal of a colour
similar to that of the young sun,[173] the sun _Râmas_ imprints a
dazzling mark on the forehead of the dawn Sîtâ, as if to be able to
recognise her--that is to say, he places himself upon the forehead of
the aurora or dawn. When the sun Râmas is separated from the dawn Sîtâ,
he sends her in recognition, as a symbol of his disc, his own ring,
which appears again in the famous ring given by King _Dushmantas_ to the
beautiful _Çakuntalâ_, the daughter of the nymph, and by means of which
alone the lost bride can be recognised by the young and forgetful king;
and Sîtâ sends back to Râmas, by the hands of Hanumant, as a sign of
recognition, the dazzling ornament which Râmas had one day placed upon
her forehead in an idyllic scene among the mountains known to them
alone. This ring of recognition, this magic pearl, often turns up in the
Hindoo legends. It is enough for me to indicate here the two most famous
examples.
The aurora who possesses the pearl becomes she who is rich in pearls,
and herself a source of pearls; but the pearl, as we have already
seen, is not only the sun, it is also the moon. The moon is the friend
of the aurora; she comforts her in the evening under her persecutions;
she loads her with presents during the night, accompanies and guides
her, and helps her to find her husband.
In the _Râmâyanam_, I frequently find the moon as a beneficent fairy,
who succours the dawn Sîtâ; for the moon, as _ráganîkaras_ (she who
gives light to the night), assumes a benignant aspect. We have already
said that the moon is generally a male in India; but as full moon and
new moon it assumes, even in the Vedic texts, a feminine name. In a
Vedic hymn, _Râkâ_, the full moon is exhorted to sew the work with a
needle that cannot be broken.[174] Here we have the moon personified
as a marvellous workwoman, a fairy with golden fingers, a good fairy;
and in this character we find her again in the _Râmâyanam_, under the
form of the old _Anasûyâ_, who anoints the darkened Sîtâ (for Sîtâ,
like the Vedic girl, is dark and ugly during the night, or winter,
when she is hidden) in the wood, with a divine unguent; gives her a
garland, various ornaments, and two beauteous garments, which are
always pure (as, _i.e._, they do not touch the earth, like the cows of
the Vedic dawn, who do not cover themselves with dust), and similar in
colour to the young sun;[175] in all which the fairy moon appears as
working during the night for the aurora, preparing her luminous
garments--the two garments, of which the one is for the evening and
the other for the morning, one lunar and of silver, the other solar
and of gold--in order that she may please her husband Râmas, or the
sun Vishnus, who is glad when he sees her thus adorned. In the
_Svayamprabhâ_, too, we meet with the moon as a good fairy, who, from
the golden palace which she reserves for her friend Hemâ (the golden
one), is during a month the guide, in the vast cavern, of Hanumant and
his companions, who have lost their way in the search of the dawn
Sîtâ. To come out of this cavern, it is necessary to shut the eyes, in
order not to see its entrance; all Hanumant's companions are come out,
but Taras, who shines like the moon,[176] would wish to return. The
same moon can be recognised in the benignant fairies _Trigâtâ_,
_Suramâ_, and _Saramâ_, who announce to Sîtâ that her husband will
soon arrive, and that she will soon see him. The first, while the
arrival of Râmas is imminent, dreams that the monsters, dressed in
yellow, are playing in a lake of cow's milk;[177] at the time when
Suramâ announces to Sîtâ the approach of Râmas, Sîtâ shines by her own
beauty, like the opening dawn;[178] finally, Saramâ (who seems to be
the same as Suramâ), whom Sîtâ calls her twin-sister (_sahodarâ_),
penetrating underground, like the moon Proserpine, also announces to
Sîtâ her approaching deliverance at the hands of Râmas.[179] As to
Trigatâ, it is not difficult to recognise in her the moon, when we
remember that Trgiatas is a name which is frequently given to the
evening sun, or rising moon, _Çivas_, who is represented with the moon
for a diadem, whence his other name of _Çandracûdas_ (having the moon
for his diadem). Suramâ I believe to be, not a mythical, but only an
orthographical variation, and more incorrect one, of Saramâ, whose
relation to the moon we shall see in detail when we come to the
chapter which treats of the mythical dog.
Thus far we have a moon fairy; but we find the moon designated at other
times in the _Râmâyanam_ by its common masculine name. The guardian of
the forest of honey, _Dadhimukhas_, in which forest, with its honey, the
heroes who accompany Sîtâ enjoy themselves, is said to be generated by
the god Lunus.[180] And the moon, who assists Hanumant in his search of
Sîtâ, is said to shine like a white bull with a sharpened horn, with a
full horn;[181] in which we come back to the moon as a horned animal,
and to the cornucopia. Moreover, we find the same lunar horn again in
the city of _Çriñgaveram_, where first the solar hero Râmas, and
afterwards his brother Bharatas, are hospitably received when the sun is
darkened,[182] by _Guhas_, king of the black _Wishâdâs_, who also is of
the colour of a black cloud;[183] and Râmas and Bharatas take their
departure in the morning from Guhas, who is said to wander always in the
forests.[184] Now, this Guhas, who, though always hidden, yet wishes to
entertain the solar hero during the night with presents of the town of
Çriñgaveram, appears to me to be just another form of the solar hero
himself, who enters and hides himself in the night, hospitably received
in the lunar habitation, another form of the god Indras, whom we have
seen in the _Rigvedas_ united during the night to Indus or Somas--that
is, to the moon--and who, in the _Râmâyanam_[185], when Sîtâ is in the
power of the monster, comes down during the night to console her, lulls
her keepers to sleep, and nourishes her with the ambrosial milk (with
Soma, the moon, the same moon which, in the _Rigvedas_, the dawn, the
girl beloved of Indras, and whom therefore he does good to, brings him
as a present), encouraging her with the prospect of the near advent of
Râmas, the deliverer.
But it remains to us to adduce clearer evidence to show that in the
_Râmâyanam_ Râmas is the sun, and Sîtâ the dawn, or aurora.
Without taking into account that Râmas is the most popular
personification of Vishnus, and that Vishnus is often the solar hero
(although he is not seldom identified with the moon), let us see how
Râmas manifests himself, and what he does in the _Râmâyanam_ to
vindicate especially his solar nature.
It is my opinion that the best way to prove this is to show how Râmas
performs the very same miracles that Indras does. Râmas, like Indras,
gives, while still young, extraordinary proofs of his strength; Râmas,
like Indras, achieves his greatest enterprises while he is himself
hidden; Râmas, like Indras, vanquishes the monster, reconquers Sîtâ, and
enjoys of right the company of his wife. Till Râmas goes into the
forests, as Indras into the clouds and shadows, his great epopee
does not begin. Indras has for assistants the winds (the Marutas);
Râmas has for his greatest help Hanumant, the son of the wind
(_Mârutâtmagah_);[186] Hanumant amuses himself with the monsters, as the
wind with the archer-clouds of the thousand-eyed Indras;[187] and it is
said that Râmas gets on Hanumant's back, as Indras does on the elephant
_Âiravatas_. The elephant with a proboscis is not unfrequently
substituted, in the brâhmanic tradition, for the horned bull of the
Vedâs.[188] But the bull Indras is reproduced in the bull Râmas, and the
monkeys who assist Râmas have kept at least the tail of the Vedic cows,
the helpers of Indras, whence their generic name of _golâñgulâs_ (who
have cows' tails).[189] The bow with which Râmas shoots the monsters is
made of a horn, whence his name of _Çârngadhanvant_ (he who shoots with
the horn);[190] Râmas receives the shower of hostile darts, as a bull
upon its horns the abundant rains of autumn.[191] Sîtâ herself calls
both her Râmas and his brother Lakshmanas by the name of
_sinharshabhâu_,[192] or the lion and the bull, which are conjoined so
frequently in the mythology, on account of equal strength; hence the
terror of the lion when he hears the bull bellow in the first book of
the _Pancatantram_, and in all the numerous Eastern and Western
variations of that book. Indras has his conflicts in the cloudy, rainy,
and gloomy sky; these are also the battle-fields of Râmas. The names of
the monsters of the _Râmâyanam_, as, for instance, _Vidyuggivas_ (he who
lives upon thunderbolts), _Vagrodarî_ (she who has thunderbolts in her
stomach), _Indragit_ (who vanquishes Indras with magical arts),
_Meghanâdas_ (thundering cloud),[193] and others, show us the nature of
the battle. In the battle-field of Râmas, instead, the assisting hero is
now a bull (_rishabhas_), now an ox's eye (_gavâkshas_), now _gavayas_
(_bos gavoeus_), and beings of similar appellations, which remind us of
the Vedic deities. Indras strikes with lightning the celestial ocean;
Râmas, an Indian Xerxes, chastises the sea with burning arrows.[194]
Indras, in the _Rigvedas_, crosses the sea and passes ninety-nine
rivers; Râmas crosses the ocean upon a bridge of mountains, in carrying
which Hanumant, the son of the wind, shows himself peculiarly skilful;
the winds carry the clouds, which we have seen, in the language of the
Vedâs, represented as mountains. And that clouds, and not real
mountains, are here spoken of, we deduce from observing, as we read,
that while the animal army of Râmas carries the bridge on to the ocean,
or the winds carry the clouds into the sky, the sun cannot burn the
weary monkey-workers, because that clouds arise and cover it, rain
falls, and the wind expires.[195] The field of this epic battle is
evidently the same as that of the mythical battle of Indras. And in the
_Râmâyanam_ we find at every step the similarity of the combatants to
the dark clouds, the bellowing clouds, the clouds carried by the wind.
The forest which Râmas goes through is compared to a group of
clouds.[196] The name of wanderer by night (_raganîcaras_), afterwards
given frequently in the _Râmâyanam_, to the monster whom Râmas combats,
implies, of course, that the battle is fought by night. The fact that,
as we read, the witch _Çûrpanakhâ_ comes in winter to seduce Râmas
whilst he is in the forest,[197] and the monster _Kumbhakarnas_ awakens
after six months' sleep, like a rainy cloud which increases towards the
end of summer (_tapânte_),[198] shows us that the epic poem of Râmas
embraces, besides the nightly battle of the sun over darkness, also the
great annual battle of the sun in winter to recover and rejoin the
spring. Anyhow, it is always a battle of the sun against the monster of
darkness. Râmas, in the very beginning of the great poem, says to his
brother Lakshmanas:--"See, O Lakshmanas, Mâricas is come here with his
followers, making a noise like thunder, and with him the wanderer by
night Subâhus; thou wilt see them to-day, like a mass of dark clouds,
dispersed by me in a moment, like clouds by the wind."[199] Here we find
almost the whole battle of Indras.
And similar battles in the clouds are found in several other episodes of
the _Râmâyanam_. The dart of Râmas falls upon the monster _Kharas_ (the
monster ass), as upon a great tree falls the thunderbolt hurled by
Indras.[200] Heroes and monsters combat with stones and rocks from the
great mountain, and fall, overthrown on the earth, like mountains. The
monster Râvanas carries off Sîtâ with the magic of the wind and the
tempest.[201] Heroes and monsters fight with trunks of trees from the
great forest; moreover, the trunks themselves, having become monsters,
join the fray, stretch out their strange arms, and devour the hero in
their cavities. And here we come upon the interesting legend of
_Kabandhas_, in which we find again the forests and trees combating,
and the barrel of the Vedâs carried by the divine bull. The _Dânavâs_ or
demons also appear, in the _Mahâbhâratam_,[202] in the forms of sounding
barrels. In the _Râmâyanam_, the highest of the demons (_dânavottamah_)
is called by the name of _Kabandhas_ (barrel and trunk), compared to a
black thundering cloud, and represented as an enormous trunk, having one
large yellowish eye, and an enormous devouring mouth in his chest.[203]
In Tuscany, we say of water that gushes copiously out of a reservoir,
that it pours as from a barrel's mouth. The monster Kabandhas draws
towards himself, with his long arms, the two brothers Râmas and
Lakshmanas (compared several times in the _Râmâyanam_[204] to the two
Açvinâu, who resemble each other in everything). Râmas and Lakshmanas,
_i.e._, the two Açvinâu, the morning and evening, the spring and autumn
suns, the two twilights, who, in a passage of the _Râmâyanam_, are
called the two ears of Râmas, cut off the two extremities, the two long
arms, of the monster _Kabandhas_; upon which the trunk, able no longer
to support itself, falls to the ground. The fallen monster then relates
to the two brothers that he was once a beautiful demon; but that, by a
malediction, Indras one day made his head and legs enter his body; his
arms having been lacerated by the two brothers, the monster is
disenchanted from this malediction, and having resumed his form of a
splendid demon, he ascends to heaven in a luminous form. Here we have
the all-radiant sun shut up in the cloud, he being the yellow eye, the
burning mouth, of Kabandhas, and, in union with the cloud, forming a
hideous monster; the hero comes to destroy his monstrous form, and the
monster thanks him, for thus he becomes the glorious god, the splendid
being, the handsome prince he was before. Râmas who delivers Kabandhas
from his monstrous form by cutting off his two arms, is the sun Râmas
coming forth from the gloomy forest, and uncovering the sky in the east
and in the west. Râmas delivering Kabandhas is simply the sun delivering
himself from the monster of gloom and cloud that envelops him. And,
indeed, the greater part of the myths have their origin in the plurality
of appellations given to the same phenomenon. Each appellation grows
into a distinct personality, and the various personalities fight with
each other. Hence the hero who delivers himself becomes the deliverer of
the hero, viewed as a different person from the hero; the monstrous form
which envelops the hero is often his own malediction; the hero who comes
to kill this monstrous form is his benefactor.[205]
This theory of the monster who thanks the hero that kills him, agrees
with what we find on several other occasions in the _Râmâyanam_, as in
the case of the stag _Marîcas_,[206] which, after being killed by
Râmas, re-ascends to heaven in a luminous form; of the sea-monster,
which Hanumant destroys, and restores to its primitive form, that of a
celestial nymph; of the old Çavarî, who, after having seen Râmas,
sacrifices herself in the fire, and re-ascends young and beautiful to
heaven (the usual Vedic young girl, the dawn whom, ugly during the
night, Indras, by taking off her ugly skin, restores to beauty in the
morning); an episodical variation of what afterwards happens to Sîtâ
herself, who, having been ugly when in the power of the monster
Râvanas, recovers her beauty by the sacrifice of fire, in order to
prove her innocence to her husband Râmas, and shines again a young
girl, like the young sun, adorned with burning gold, and wearing a red
dress;[207] and when Râmas comes near (like the young dawn, when she
sees her husband), she resembles the first light (Prabhâ), the wife of
the sun.[208] This Sîtâ, daughter of Ganakas (the generator), whom the
_Tâittiriya Brâhmanam_ calls Savitar[209] or the sun, seems to me to
be no other than the dawn, the daughter of light, the daughter of
Indras, the god of the Vedic texts. These, indeed, sometimes represent
Sûryâ, the daughter of the sun, as the lover of the moon (who is then
masculine); but we find more frequently the loves of the dawn and the
sun, of the beautiful heroine and the splendid solar hero, while the
moon is generally the brother, or the pitying sister of the hero and
the heroine, the beneficent old man, the foreseeing fairy, the good
hostess, who aids them in their enterprises; although we also find the
dawn as a sister of the sun and his succourer. In fact, the Buddhist
tradition of the legend of Râmas, illustrated by Weber,[210]
represents Sîtâ to us as the sister of the two brothers Râmas and
Lakshmanas, who go into banishment for twelve years to escape the
persecutions of their cruel step-mother (of whom the _Kâikeyî_ of the
_Râmâyanam_ offers a confused image), in the same way as the Vedic
dawn is united to the twin Açvinâu; and the same tradition makes
Râmas, at the termination of his exile, end with marrying his own
sister Sîtâ, as the sun marries the dawn. And the fact of Sîtâ being
not born from the womb, but produced from the ground, a girl of
heavenly beauty, destined to be the reward of valour,[211] not only
does not exclude her relationship with the dawn, but confirms it; for
we have seen the dawn rise from the mountain, as the daughter of light
and the sun, whom the young sun wins for his bride, as a reward for
his wonderful skill as an archer against the monsters of darkness; and
we have seen that the dawn marries only her predestined husband, and
her predestined husband is he who performs the greatest miracles,
restores her lost gaiety, and most resembles her. We have just seen
the old Çavarî and the ugly Sîtâ, at the sight of the sun Râmas,
deliver themselves in the fire from every mortal danger, and become
beautiful and happy once more.
But the concord between the mythical husband and wife is not more
steadfast than that of mortal couples. Râmas is very apt to be
suspicious. Having returned to his kingdom of Ayodhyâ, he allows
himself to brood upon what his subjects may say of him for having
taken back his wife, after she had been in the hands of the monster
(they were not present at the first fire-sacrifice of Sîtâ); Râmas
reveals his suspicions to Sîtâ, and blames the evil-speaking of the
citizens for originating them; she submits a second time to the trial
by fire, but, offended by his continual suspicions, she flees from her
husband, and on a car of light, drawn by serpents (_Pannagâs_), goes
down again underground (which appears to mean simply this--the dawn,
or spring, marries the sun in the morning, or she stays all day, or
all summer, in his kingdom, and in the evening, or in the autumn, goes
down into the shades of night, or of winter).[212] It is an
indiscretion of the husband which causes his wife to abandon him.
Thus, in the _Rigvedas_, we have seen _Urvaçî_, the first of the
dawns, flee from the sun _Purûravas_. In _Somadevas_,[213] the king
Purûravas loses his wife Urvaçî, because he has let it be known in
heaven that she was with him; in Kâlidâsas's drama of _Vikramorvaçî_,
the king Purûravas, having helped Indras in the fight, receives from
him Urvaçî to wife, with whom he engages to stay till a child is born
to them; the king, shortly after having espoused Urvaçî, looks at
another nymph, Udakavatî (the watery). Urvaçî, offended, flees; she
enters a wood to hide herself, and is transformed into a creeper. In
the brâhmanic tradition of the _Yagurvedas_, referred to at length by
Professor Max Müller, in his "Oxford Essays," Purûravas loses sight of
Urvaçî, because he has let himself be seen by her without his regal
dress, or even naked.
We find yet another similar legend in the _Mahâbhâratam_.[214] The
wise and splendid Çântanus goes to the chase on the banks of the
Gañgâ, and there finds a beautiful nymph whom he becomes enamoured of.
The nymph responds to his suit, and consents to remain with him, on
condition that he will never say anything displeasing to her,
whatever she may do or meditate; and the enamoured king assents to the
grave condition. They live together happily, for the king yields to
the nymph in everything; but in the course of time, eight sons are
born to them; the nymph has already thrown seven into the river, and
the king, although inwardly full of grief, dares not say anything to
her; but when she is about to throw the last one in, the king implores
her not to do it, and challenges her to say who she is. The nymph then
confesses to him that she is the Gañgâ itself personified, and that
the eight sons born to their loves are human personifications of the
eight divine Vasavas, who, by being thrown into the Gañgâ, are
liberated from the curse of the human form: the only Vasus who is
pleased to remain among men is Dyâus (the sky), in the form of the
eunuch Bhîshmas, whom Çântanus would not allow to be thrown into the
waters. The same curse falls upon the Vasavas for having ravished the
cow of abundance from the penitent Apavas. We shall find a legendary
subject analogous to this one of Çântanus in several of the popular
tales of Europe, with this difference that, in European tradition, it
is generally the husband who abandons his indiscreet partner. The
Hindoo tradition, however, also offers us an example of the husband
who abandons his wife, in the wise Garatkarus, who marries the sister
of the king of the serpents, on condition that she never does anything
to displease him.[215] One day the wise man sleeps; evening comes on;
he ought to be awakened in order to say his evening prayers; if he
does not say them, he does not do his duty, and she would do wrong did
she not warn him. If she awaken him, he will be enraged. What is to
be done? She takes the latter course. The wise man awakes, becomes
enraged, and abandons her, after she had given him a son.[216]
The glowing aspect of the sky, morning and evening, suggested the
idea, now of a splendid nuptial feast, now of a fire. In this fire,
sometimes the witch who persecutes the hero and heroine is burnt, and
sometimes the hero and heroine themselves are immolated. The sacrifice
of Çavarî and of Sîtâ, who are delivered by the sun Râmas, is only a
variation of that of Çunahçepas, liberated by the dawn in the
_Rigvedas_. The story of Çunahçepas has already been made known by
Professor Rodolph Roth,[217] and by Professor Max Müller,[218] who
translated it from the _Âitareya-brâhmanam_; and I refer the reader to
these translations, as well as to the English version which Professor
Martin Haugh has given us of all the _Âitareya_. I shall, therefore,
here give but a short account of it, with a few observations apropos
to the subject in hand.
The king Hariçcandras has no sons; the god Varunas the coverer, the
gloomy, the watery, the king of the waters,[219] obliges him to
promise that he will sacrifice to him whatever is born to him. The
king promises; a child is born, who is named the red (Rohitas).
Varunas claims him; the father begs him to wait till the child has
cut his teeth, then till his first teeth are cast, then till he is
able to bear armour. It is evident that the father wishes to wait till
his son be strong enough to defend himself against his persecutor,
Varunas. Varunas thereupon claims him in a more resolute manner, and
Hariçcandras informs the son himself that he must be given up in
sacrifice. Rohitas takes his bow and flees into the woods, where he
lives by the chase. This first part of the legend corresponds with
those numerous European popular tales, in which, now the devil, now
the aquatic monster, now the serpent, demands from a father the son
who has just been born to him without his knowledge. The second part
of the story of Çunahçepas shows us the hero in the forest; he has
taken his bow with him, and hence, like Râmas in the _Râmâyanam_, who
has scarcely entered the forest than he begins to hunt, Rohitas turns
hunter, and hunts for the six years during which he remains in the
forest. But his chase is unsuccessful; he wanders about in quest of
some one to take his place as the victim of Varunas; at last he finds
the brâhmanas Agigartas, who consents to give his own second son,
Çunahçepas, for a hundred cows. The first-born being particularly dear
to the father, and the third being especially beloved by the mother,
cannot be sacrificed; the second son, therefore, is ceded to Varunas,
the gloomy god of night, who, like Yamas, binds all creatures with his
cords. We have already observed how the middle son is the son of the
celestial cow Aditis, the hidden sun, the sun during and covered by
the darkness of night, or, in other words, bound by the fetters of
Varunas--and it is his own father who binds him with those fetters.
His sacrifice begins in the evening. During the night he appeals to
all the gods. At last Indras, flattered by the praise heaped upon
him, concedes to him a golden chariot, upon which, with praises to the
Açvinâu, and help from the dawn, Çunahçepas, unbound from the fetters
of Varunas, is delivered. These fetters of Varunas, which imprison the
victim, bound and sacrificed by his own father, help us to understand
the second part of the European popular tale of the son sacrificed
against his will to the demon by his father; for Çunahçepas, towards
the end of the European story, takes the form of a horse, Varunas that
of a demon, and the fetters of Varunas are the bridle of the horse,
which the imprudent father sells to the demon, together with his son
in the shape of a horse;[220] the beautiful daughter of the demon (the
white one, who, as usual, comes out of the black monster) delivers the
young man transformed into a horse; as in the Vedic story of
Çunahçepas, it is explicitly the dawn who is the young girl that
delivers.[221] Varunas is called in the _Râmâyanam_ the god who has in
his hand a rope (_pâçahastas_); his dwelling is on Mount Astas, where
the sun goes down, and which it is impossible to touch, because it
burns, in an immense palace, the work of Viçvakarman, which has a
hundred rooms, lakes with nymphs, and trees of gold.[222] Evidently,
Varunas is here, not a different form, but a different name of the god
Yamas, the pâçin, or furnished with rope, the constrictor _par
excellence_; for we are to suppose the magic display of golden
splendour in the evening heavens not so much the work of the sun
itself, as produced by the gloomy god who sits on the mountain, who
invests and surprises the solar hero, and drags him into his kingdom.
As to Hariçcandras and Agigartas, Rohitas and Çunahçepas, they appear,
in my opinion, to be themselves different names for not only the same
celestial phenomenon, but the same mythical personage. Hariçcandras is
celebrated in the legends as a solar king; Rohitas, his son, the red
one, is his _alter ego_, as well as his successor Çunahçepas.
Hariçcandras, moreover, who promises to sacrifice his son to Varunas,
seems to differ little, if at all, from Agigartas, who sells his own
son for the sacrifice. The _Râmâyanam_,[223] has given us a third name
for the same unnatural father,[224] in Viçvâmitras, who asks his own
sons to sacrifice themselves, instead of Çunahçepas, who is under his
protection, and as they refuse to obey, he curses them.
The variation of the same legend which we find in the
_Harivanças_[225] proves these identities, and adds a new and notable
particular. The wife of Viçvâmitras designs, on account of her
poverty, to barter her middle son for a hundred cows, and with that
view already keeps him tied with a rope like a slave. The grandfather
of Rohitas, Hariçcandras's father, Triçañkus, wanders through the
woods, and delivers this son of Viçvâmitras, whose family he
thenceforth protects and maintains. The deeds of Triçañkus, who begs
of Vasishtas to be allowed to ascend to heaven bodily, and who, by
grace of Viçvâmitras, obtains instead the favour of remaining
suspended in the air like a constellation, are also attributed to his
son Hariçcandras; whence we may affirm, without much risk of
contradiction, that as Triçañkus is another name for his son
Hariçcandras, so Hariçcandras is another name for his son Rohitas, and
that, therefore, the Triçañkus of the _Harivanças_ is the same as the
Rohitas of the _Âitareya_, with this difference, that Triçañkus buys
the son destined to the sacrifice in order to free him, while Rohitas
buys him to free himself. But the first hundred cows given by
Triçañkus to Viçvâmitras do not suffice for him, and the fruits of his
hunting in the forest are not enough to maintain the family, a
circumstance which weighs upon him almost as much as if the family
were his own; upon which, in order to save Viçvâmitras, in order to
save Viçvâmitras's son, and, we can perhaps add, to save himself, he
resolves to sacrifice, to kill the beautiful and dearly-prized wife of
Vasishtas (the very luminous). I have said the wife of Vasishtas, but
the _Harivanças_ says, speaking strictly, it was the cow of Vasishtas
who was killed. But we know from the _Râmâyanam_[226] that this cow of
Vasishtas, this kâmadhuk or kâmadhenus, which yields at pleasure all
that is wished for, this cow of abundance, is kept by Vasishtas, under
the name of Çabâlâ, as his own wife. Viçvâmitras is covetous of her;
he demands her from Vasishtas, and offers a hundred cows for her, the
exact price which, in the _Harivanças_, he receives from Triçañkus for
his own son. Vasishtas answers that he will not give her for a
hundred, nor for a thousand, nor even for a hundred thousand cows, for
Çabâlâ is his gem, his riches, his all, his life.[227] Viçvâmitras
carries her off; she returns to the feet of Vasishtas, and bellows;
her bellowing calls forth armies, who come out of her own body; the
hundred sons of Viçvâmitras are burned to ashes by them. These armies
which come out of the body of Vasishtas's cow remind us again of the
Vedic cow, from which come forth winged darts, or birds, by which the
enemies are filled with terror. Vasishtas is a form of Indras; his cow
is here the rain-cloud. Viçvâmitras, who wishes to ravish the cow from
Vasishtas, often assumes monstrous forms in the Hindoo legends, and is
almost always malignant, perverse, and revengeful. His hundred sons
burned to cinders by Vasishtas remind us, from one point of view, of
the hundred cities of Çambaras destroyed by Indras, and the hundred
perverse Dhritarâshtrides of the _Mahâbhâratam_; whence his name,
Viçvâmitras, which may also mean the enemy of all (_viçva-amitras_),
would agree well with his almost demoniacal character.
This story of the cow of Vasishtas, whose relationship with the legend
of Çunahçepas cannot be doubted, brings us back to the animal forms of
heroes and heroines from which we started. In the story of Vasishtas,
the cow-cloud, the cow çabâlâ, or the spotted-cow, plays in the epic
poem the part of the cow Aditis, the cow priçnis (spotted, variegated),
with which we are already familiar in the Vedic hymns. This cow is
benignant towards the god, or the hero, or the wise Vasishtas, as the
priçnis is to the god Indras. But we have seen in the _Rigvedas_ itself
the cloud as the enemy of the god, and represented as a female form of
the monster, as his sister. This sister generally tries to seduce the
god, promising to deliver into his hands the monster her brother, and
she sometimes succeeds, as the witch Hidimbâ of the _Mahâbhâratam_, who
gives up her brother, the monster Hidimbas, into the hands of the hero
Bhîmas, who thereupon espouses her. On the other hand, Çûrpanakhâ, the
sister of the monster Râvanas, does not succeed in her intent; making
herself beautiful, she endeavours to win the affection of the hero
Râmas; but being ridiculed by him and by Lakshmanas, she becomes
deformed, and sends forth cries like a cloud in the rainy season,[228]
exciting her brothers to annihilate Râmas.
The same cloud-monster is found again in the _Râmâyanam_, under the
name of Dundubhis, in the form of a terrible buffalo with sharpened
horns.[229] The buffalo, as a wild animal, is often chosen to
represent the principle of evil, in the same way as the bull,
increaser of the bovine herds, is selected as the image of good. This
bellowing buffalo, whence his name of Dundubhis (drum), strikes and
knocks with his two horns at the door of the cavern[230] of the son of
Indras (Bâlin), the king of the monkeys. But Bâlin takes Dundubhis by
the horns, throws him on the ground, and destroys him.
Dundus is also a name given to the father of Krishnas, or the black one,
who in the _Rigvedas_ is still a demon, and only later becomes the god
of cows and cowherds, a govindas, or pastor _par excellence_.[231]
Indras, his enemy in the Vedas, having fallen from heaven, he became one
of the most popular gods, and even sometimes the most popular form of
the deity. In the _Mahâbhâratam_, for instance, he is almost the _deus
ex machina_ of the battles between the Pândavas and the Dhârtarâshtrâs,
and presents many analogies to the Zeus of the Iliad; whereas Indras
plays only a part in the episodes, the rain-giver and thunderer being
often forgotten for the black one who prepares and hurls the light. But
the fall of Indras begins in the Vedâs themselves. In the _Yagurvedas_,
Viçvarûpas, the son of Tvashtar, whom Indras kills, appears as no less
than the purohitas or high-priest of the gods, and son of a daughter of
the Asurâs; he has three heads, of which one drinks the ambrosia,
another the spirituous drink, while the third eats food. Indras cuts off
Viçvarûpas's three heads, in revenge of the one which drinks his
ambrosia; he is therefore charged with having killed a Brâhman, and
decried as a brâhmanicide.[232] In the _Âitareya-brâhmanam_,[233] the
criminality of Indras in this regard is confirmed, to which the
_Kâushîtaki-Upanishad_ also refers. In the seventh book of the
_Râmâyanam_, even the multiform monster Râvanas is represented as a
great penitent, whom Brâhman fills with supreme grace; in the sixth
book, the son of the wind, Hanumant, cuts off the three heads of the
Râvanide monster Triçiras (having three heads), as one day Indras cut
off the three heads of the monster Vritras, son of Tvashtar;[234] and he
cuts all the three heads off together (_samas_), as the hero of the
European popular tales must cut off, at a blow, the three heads of the
serpent, the wizard, otherwise he is powerless, and able to do nothing.
The monster, like the hero, seems to have a special affinity for the
number three: hence the three heads of Triçiras, as also the three
brothers of Lañkâ--Râvanas, the eldest brother, who reigns;
Kumbhakarnas, the middle brother, who sleeps; Vibhishanas, the third
brother, whom the two others do not care about, but who alone is just
and good, and who alone obtains the gift of immortality.[235] We have
evidently here again the three Vedic brothers; the two eldest in
demoniacal form, the youngest a friend of the divine hero, and who, by
the victory of Râmas over the monster Râvanas, obtains the kingdom of
Lañkâ. As to the brothers Râmas and Lakshmanas, and the brothers Bâlin
and Sugrîvas, their natural place is in the story of the two twins,
which will be referred to in the next chapter, although Hanumant, the
son of the wind, figures second to them in the character of strong
brother.
The three interesting heroic brothers come out more prominently in the
_Mahâbhâratam_, where of the five Pândavas brothers, three stay on one
side, and are Yudhishthiras, son of the god Yamas, the wise brother;
Bhîmas (the terrible), or Vrikodâras (wolf's belly), son of Vâyus (the
wind), the strong brother (another form of Hanumant, in company with
whom he is also found in the _Mahâbhâratam_, on Mount Gandhamâdanas);
and Argunas (the splendid), the son of Indras, the genial, dexterous,
fortunate, victorious brother, he who wins the bride. The first
brother gives the best advice; the second shows proof of greatest
strength; the third brother wins, conquers the bride. They are
precisely the three Vedic brothers Ribhavas, Ekatas, Dvîtas, and
Tritas, in the same relationships to one another and with the same
natures; only the legend is amplified.[236] As to their other
brothers, twins, born of another mother, Nakulas and Sahadevas, they
are the sons of the two Açvinâu, and feebly repeat in the
_Mahâbhâratam_ the exploits of the two celestial twins. Bhîmas or
Vrikodâras, the second brother, is considered the strongest,
(balavatâm çreshthah), because immediately after birth, _i.e._,
scarcely has he come forth out of his mother (like the Vedic Marutas),
than he breaks the rock upon which he falls, because he breaks his
fetters as soon as he is bound with them (like Hanumant when he
becomes the prisoner of Râvanas), because he carries his brothers
during the night (as Hanumant carries Râmas), as he flees from the
burning house prepared by the impious Duryodhanas (_i.e._, from the
burning sky of evening), and because in the kingdom of serpents, where
Duryodhanas threw him down (that is, the night), he drinks the water
of strength. A serpent, wishing to benefit Bhîmas, says to Vasukis,
king of the serpents--"Let there be given to him as much strength as
he can drink from that cistern in which is placed the strength of a
thousand serpents."[237] Bhîmas, at one draught, drinks the whole
cisternful; and with similar expedition, he drains consecutively eight
cisterns.[238] The first-born of the Pândavas is dear to his father
Yamas, the god of justice, Dharmarâgas,--and is himself indeed called
Dharmarâgas; and when he prepares himself to ascend into heaven, the
god Yamas follows him in the form of a dog: by his skill in solving
enigmas, he saves his brother Bhîmas from the king of the serpents.
The third brother, Argunas, son of Indras, is the Benjamin of the
Vedic supreme God. Indras welcomes him with festivals in heaven,
whither Argunas had gone to find him. Argunas is an infallible archer,
like Indras; like Indras, he several times regains the cows from the
robbers or from the enemies; and, like Indras, he wins and conquers
his bride; he is born by the assistance of all the celestials; he is
invincible (_agayas_); he is the best son (_varah putras_);[239] he
alone of the three brothers has compassion on his master Dronas and
delivers him from an aquatic monster.[240]
But there is yet another particular which shows the resemblance between
the three brothers Pândavas and the three brothers of the Vedas; it is
their dwelling, hidden in the palace of the king Virâta, in the fourth
book of the _Mahâbhâratam_. They are exiled from the kingdom, like
Râmas; they flee from the persecution of their enemies, now into the
woods, now, as the Ribhavas, disguised as workmen in the palace of
Virâtas, to whom their presence brings every kind of happiness.
We meet with these three brothers again, episodically, in the three
disciples of Dhâumyas, in the first book of the _Mahâbhâratam_.[241] The
first disciple, Upamanyus, takes his master's cows out to pasture, and,
out of sensitive regard for his master's interest, refuses to drink not
only their milk, but even the foam from their mouths, and fasts till,
like to perish of hunger, he bites a leaf of arkapatrâ (properly, leaf
of the sun, the _aristolochia indica_), when he instantly becomes
blind. He wanders about and falls into a well; he there sings a hymn to
the Açvinâu, and they come immediately to deliver him. The second
brother, Uddâlakas, places his body, as a dike, to arrest the course of
the waters. The third brother is Vedas, he who sees, he who knows, whose
disciple Utañkas is himself in the form of a hero. Utañkas, like the
Vedic Tritas, and the Pândavas Argunas, is protected by Indras. He is
sent by the wife of his master to abstract the earrings of the wife of
King Pâushyas. He sets out; on his way he meets a gigantic bull, and a
horseman, who bids him, if he would succeed, eat the excrement of the
bull; he does so, rinsing his mouth afterwards. He then presents himself
to King Pâushyas and informs him of his message; the king consigns the
earrings to him, but cautions him to beware of Takshakas, the king of
the serpents. Utañkas says that he is not afraid of him, and sets out
with the earrings; but as he puts down the earrings upon the shore, in
order to bathe, Takshakas presents himself in the shape of a naked
mendicant, whips them up, and flees away with them. Utañkas follows him,
but Takshakas resumes his serpent form, penetrates the ground, and
descends under it; Utañkas attempts to follow the serpent, but does not
succeed in cleaving the entrance, which corresponds to the Vedic rock
under which the monster keeps his prey. Indras sees him tiring himself
in vain, and sends his weapon, in order that it may be for a help to
Utañkas; that weapon, or club, penetrating, opened the cavern.[242] This
club, this weapon of Indras is evidently the thunderbolt.[243] Utañkas
descends into the kingdom of the serpents, full of infinite wonders.
Indras reappears at his side in the shape of a horse,[244] and obliges
the king, Takshakas, to give back the earrings; having taken which,
Utañkas mounts the horse, that he may be carried more swiftly to the
wife of his master, from whom he learns that the horseman seen by him on
the way was none other than Indras himself; his horse, Agnis, the god of
fire; the bull, the steed of Indras, or the elephant Âiravatas; the
excrement of the bull, the ambrosia, which made him immortal in the
kingdom of the serpents. In another episode of the same (the first) book
of the _Mahâbhâratam_,[245] we again find Indras busied in the search of
the earrings, that is to say, of the excessively fleshy part hanging
from the ears of Karnas, the child of the sun, who, as soon as born, had
been abandoned upon the waters. We have seen above how the two Açvinâu
are also represented in the _Râmâyanam_ as the two ears of Vishnus Râmas
(as the sun and moon are said to be his eyes); hence it seems to me that
these mythical earrings, coveted by Indras, and protected by him, are
nothing else than the two Açvinâu, the two luminous twilights (in
connection with the sun and the moon), in which Indras, and, still more
than he, the aurora, his wife, take such delight.[246]
In the commentary of _Buddhagoshas_ on the Buddhist Dhammapadam, we
have the three brothers again; the two eldest are represented as fleeing
from the persecution of their cruel step-mother; the third brother,
Suriyas (Sûryas, the sun), goes to overtake them. The eldest counsels or
commands, the second lends his aid, and the youngest fights. The second
and third brothers fall into a fountain, under the power of a monster;
the first-born saves them by his knowledge, as, in the _Mahâbhâratam_,
Yudhishthiras, by his skill in solving riddles, delivers the second
brother from the fetters of the forest of the monster serpent.
This mode of delivering the hero, by propounding a question or a riddle,
is very common in the Hindoo legends. Even in the _Pancatantram_,[247] a
Brâhman who falls under the power of a forest monster who leaps on his
shoulders, frees himself by asking why his feet are so soft. The monster
confesses that it is because, on account of a vow, he cannot touch the
earth with his feet. The Brâhman then betakes himself to a sacred pond;
the monster wishes to take a bath, and the Brâhman throws him in; the
monster orders him to stay there till he has bathed and said his
orisons. The Brâhman profits by this opportunity to make his escape,
knowing that the monster will not be able to overtake him, as he cannot
put his feet to the ground. It is the usual vulnerability, weakness, or
imperfection of the hero, or the monster, in the feet, and, if an animal
is spoken of, in the tail.[248]
The _Mahâbhâratam_ has shown us the three Vedic brothers, of whom the
youngest has fallen into the well; it also presents to us, in the
witch (_asurî_) Çarmishthâ, daughter of Vrishaparvan, king of the
demons, and in the nymph Devayânî, daughter of Çukras, who credits
herself with the virtue of Indras as the rain-giver,[249] the two
rival sisters of the Vedas, the good and the evil. In the
_Râmâyanam_,[250] the witch Çûrpanakhâ, who seduces Râmas, in order to
take the place of Sîtâ at his side, is compared to Çarmishthâ, who
seduced Nâhushas. In the _Mahâbhâratam_, Çarmishthâ assumes the guise
of Devayânî, whom she throws into a well. Yayâtis, son of King
Nâhushas, goes to the chase; feeling thirsty, he stops near the well;
from the bottom of the well a young girl looks up, like a flame of
fire.[251] The prince takes her by the right hand and draws her up;
and because in the marriage ceremony, the bride is taken by the right
hand,[252] the prince Yayâtis is said to marry Devayânî. But even
after she is a wife, Çarmishthâ continues to seduce her husband, to
whom she unites herself. Two sons are born of Devayânî, Yadus and
Turvasas, similar to Indras and Vishnus (a new form of the twins, of
the Açvinâu); three are born of Çarmishthâ, Duhyus, Anus, and Pûrus;
and here also the third brother is the most glorious and valiant. And
in this way the episode is connected with the essential legend of the
_Mahâbhâratam_, and one and the same general myth is multiplied into
an infinity of particular legends. As the genealogy of the gods and
heroes is infinite, so is there an infinite number of forms assumed by
the same myth and of the names assumed by the same hero. Each day
gave birth in the heavens to a new hero and a new monster, who
exterminate each other, and afterwards revive in an aspect more or
less glorious, according as their names were more or less fortunate.
It is for the same reason that the sons always recognise their fathers
without having once seen them or even heard them spoken of; they
recognise themselves in their fathers. Thus Çakuntalâ and Urvacî
enable their mother to find again the husband that she has lost, and
their father to recover his lost wife. Thus in the episode of Devayânî
and Çarmishthâ, when the former wishes to know who is the father of
the three sons of Çarmishthâ, so similar to the sons of immortals, she
turns to them, and they tell her at once.
For this fault, Yayâtis, from being young, is fated to become old. He
then beseeches the two eldest of the three sons that he had by
Çarmishthâ to take on themselves the old age of their father; they
refuse, but the third son, Pûrus, out of reverence for his father,
consents to become old in his stead, to give up his youth to his
father. After a thousand years, the king Yayâtis, satiated with life,
restores to his son Pûrus his youth, and although he is the youngest,
along with his youth, the kingdom, because he found him the only one
of the three who respected the paternal will; and he expels the two
eldest brothers.[253]
Sometimes, however, the blind old father is entirely abandoned by his
sons. Thus the old Dîrghatamas (of the vast darkness), blind from birth,
is deprived of food, and thrown into the water by his wife and
sons,[254] but a heroic king saves him, in order, by his wife, to beget
sons for him. We have in Dîrghatamas and Yayâtis, King Lear in embryo.
In the same legend of Dîrghatamas, we find an exchange of wives. Queen
Sudeshnâ, instead of going herself, sends her servant-maid, her
foster-sister, to be embraced by Dîrghatamas.[255] In the cunning
Sudeshnâ we have an ancient variation of Queen Berta.
Other blind men occur frequently in the Hindoo legends. I shall here
cite only Andhakas (the blind one) and Vrishnis (the sheep, as the lame
one),[256] who appear in the _Harivanças_[257] as the two sons of Mâdrî.
But we know from the _Mahâbhâratam_, that the two sons of Mâdrî are a
human incarnation of the celestial twins, the Açvinâu; and here we come
again upon the blind-lame one of the Vedas, the solar hero in his twin
forms, the two Açvinâu protected by Indras, and companions of the dawn.
The _Pancatantram_[258] represents the blind and the crooked, or
hunchbacked,[259] in union with the three-breasted princess (_i.e._, the
triple sister, the aurora in the evening, the aurora in the night, the
aurora in the morning; the breast of the night nourishing the defective,
the monstrous, which the morning sweeps away). The crooked guides the
blind with a stick; they both marry the three-breasted princess. The
blind recovers sight by the steam of the poison of a black serpent,
cooked in milk (the darkness of night, or of winter, mixed with the
clearness of day, or of the snow); he then, being a strongly-built man,
takes the hunchback by the legs, and beats his hunch against the third
and superfluous breast of the princess. The anterior prominence of the
latter, and the posterior one of the former, enter into their respective
bodies;[260] thus the blind, the crooked, and the three-breasted
princess help and cure each other; the two Açvinâu and the aurora (or
the spring) reappear together in beauty. The Açvinâu and the aurora also
come forth together from the monstrous shades of night; the Açvinâu
contend for the aurora; as we shall see soon, and in the next chapter,
the delivered bride disputed for by the brothers.
The sun and the aurora flee from each other; this spectacle has been
represented in different ways by the popular imagination; and one of the
most familiar is certainly that of a beautiful young girl who, running
more quickly than the prince, escapes from him. This incident, which is
already described in the _Rigvedas_, occurs again in the
_Mahâbhâratam_,[261] in the legend of the loves of the virgin Tapatî,
daughter of the sun (the luminous and burning aurora, and also the
summer season, ardent as Dahanâ), with the king Samvaranas, son of the
bear (_rikshaputras_, a kind of Indras). The king Samvaranas arrives on
horseback with his retinue at the mountain, in order to hunt; he ties
his horse up and begins the chase, when he sees on the mountain the
beautiful girl, the daughter of the sun, who, covered with ornaments,
shines like the sun; he declares his love and wishes to make her his
own; she answers not a word, but flees and disappears like the lightning
in the clouds;[262] the king cannot overtake her, because his horse,
while he was hunting, has died of hunger and thirst; he searches in vain
through the forest, but not seeing her, he throws himself almost
breathless to the ground. As he lies there the beautiful girl appears
again, approaches and wakens him; he again speaks to her of love, and
she answers that he must ask her father the sun, and then, still quite
innocent, she disappears swiftly on high (_ûrdhvam_). The king again
faints; his minister sprinkles him with the water of health, and makes
him revive, but he refuses to leave the mountain, and having dismissed
his hunting company, he awaits the arrival of the great purohitas
Vasishthas, by whose mediation he demands from the sun his daughter
Tapatî to wife; the sun consents, and Vasishthas reconducts to
Samvaranas, for the third time, the beautiful girl as his legitimate
wife. The husband and wife live together happily on the mountain of
their loves; but as long as King Samvaranas remains with Tapatî upon
this mountain, no rain falls upon the earth; wherefore the king, out of
love for his subjects, returns to his palace, upon which Indras pours
down the rain, and begins again to fructify the earth.[263]
We said a little ago that Vasishthas himself caused it to rain
(_abhyavarshata_); and the mention of Vasishthas reminds us of the
particularly rain-giving, cloudy, and lunar function of his cow
Kâdmadhenus, whose wonderful productions are again described in the
_Mahâbhâratam_.[264] Besides milk and ambrosia, she yields herbs and
gems, which we have already referred to, as analogous products in
mythology. The cow of Vasishthas is, besides her tail, celebrated for
her breasts, her horns, and even her ears ending in a point; whence
her name of _çañkukarnâ_ (the masculine form of which is generally
applied to the ass). And in the _Mahâbhâratam_, also, the wise
Viçvâmitras is covetous of this wonderful cow; the cow bellows and
drops fire from her tail, and radiates from every part of her body
armies which disperse those of the son of Gadhis. Viçvâmitras then
avenges himself in other ways upon the sons of Vasishthas; having,
_e.g._, become a cannibal, he eats them.
Vasishthas cannot endure the pain this causes him: he tries to throw
himself down from the summit of Mount Merus, but he falls without
hurting himself; he throws himself into the fire, but does not burn
himself; and, finally, he leaps into the sea, but is not drowned.
These three miracles are accomplished every day by the solar hero, who
throws himself down from the mountain into the gloomy ocean of night,
after having passed through the burning sky of evening.
Vasishthas ends by freeing, with the help of charmed water, the
monster Viçvâmitras from his curse; and the latter is no sooner
delivered from the demon who possessed him, than he begins again to
illumine the forest with his splendour, as the sun illumines a
twilight cloud. The friendships, enmities, and rivalries of Vasishthas
and Viçvâmitras seem to be another version of those of the two
Açvinâu, whom we shall particularly describe in the next chapter.
Meanwhile, it is high time, as the reader will think, to conclude this
part of our study, which treats of the mythical cow of India. We might
easily, indeed, have made it much larger, had our design been to chain
together, link by link, all the traditions and legends in which the cow
plays a primary or subordinate part. But it is better to stop short,
lest, by expatiating further, we should lose sight of the essential aim
of our work, and be tempted into digressions from the legends relating
to beasts to those relating to men; besides, we think that we have
sufficiently proved the thesis of this chapter, and shown how the
principal mythical subjects of the Vedic hymns are not only preserved,
but developed, in the posterior Hindoo traditions. It is not entirely
our fault if, from cows, we pass so often to princesses, and from bulls
to princes; the myth itself involves and indicates these
transformations. Hence we find the bull Indras, the winner of the cows,
become a winner and a seducer of women; we see the bull Wind, who aids
Indras in the conquest of the cows, become the violator of a hundred
damsels;[265] we read of the bull and god Rudras, as husband of Umâ,
given up to sensual indulgence for a hundred years without a pause; that
the son of the bull, or of the wind, Hanumant, does prodigies of valour
and strength for the sake of a beautiful woman, and receives, as a
reward for his zeal, from the king Bharatas, a hundred thousand cows,
sixteen wives, and a hundred servant-maids.[266] What could Hanumant
have done with so many wives and maids, if he were simply a bull? or
what could he have done with so many cows, if he had been an ape? It is
these inconsistencies which have caused mythology to be condemned by the
crowd of old but prolific pedants, as a vain science; whereas, on the
contrary, it is precisely these inconsistencies which raise it, in our
esteem, to the rank of a valid science. He who handed down to us the
feats of Hanumant, took care also to tell us how he had the faculty of
changing his form at will; and this faculty, attributed to this
impersonation of a celestial phenomenon, is the fruit of one of the most
_naïve_ but just observations of virgin and grandiose nature.
FOOTNOTES:
[132] I must, however, observe that competent authorities, such as
Professor Weber, consider the phallical worship of Çivas to have
originated in the beliefs of the indigenous tribes of Dravidian race.
[133] _Rigv._ i. 123, 8.
[134] Vidique saepe, sed cumprimis anno 1785 in Malabaria ad flumen
templo celebri Ambalapushe proximum, extra oppidum Callureàta in
silvula, sententia regis Travancoridis Ráma Varmer, quinque viros arbori
appensos et morti traditos, quod, contra regni leges et religionis
præscripta, voluntarie unicam vaccam occiderint; _Systema Brahmanicum_,
illustr. Fr. Paullinus a S. Bartholomæo, Romæ, 179.--Cfr.
_Mânava-Dharmaçâstram_, xi. 60, and _Yâgnavalkya-Dharmaçâstram_, iii.
234.
[135] ii. 1, 8.
[136] Pancagavyam piban goghno mâsam âsîta samyatah goshtreçayo go
'nugâmî gopradânena çudhyati; _Dharm._ iii. 263.
[137] _Dharm._ xi. 166.
[138] Ibid. iii. 271.
[139] Ka imam daçabhir mamendram krînâti dhenubhih; _Rigv._ iv. 24, 10.
[140] _Dharm._ iii. 27.
[141] _Grihyasûtrâni_, i. 8, 9.--It was, moreover, on the occasion of
a marriage, the custom to give cows to the Brâhmans; in the
_Râmâyanam_, i. 74, the King Daçarathas, at the nuptials of his four
sons, gives 400,000 cows.
[142] Â nah pragâm ganayatu pragâpatih; _Rigv._ x. 85, 43.
[143] Gocarmavasano harih; xiii. 1228.
[144] Cfr. Böhtlingk u. Roth's, _Sanskrit Wörterbuch_ s. v. _gocarman_.
[145] Âçvalây. _Grihyasû._ iv. 3.
[146] _Grihyasû._ i. 13.--The commentator _Nârâyanas_, quoted by
Professor Stenzler, in his version of _Âçvalâyanas_, explains how the
two beans and grain of barley express by their form the male organs of
generation.
[147] _Grihyasû._ i. 14.
[148] _Grihyasû._ ii. 10.--The St Antony, protector of animals, of the
Vedic faith was the god Rudras, the wind, to whom, when the cattle
were afflicted by a disease, it was necessary to sacrifice in the
midst of an enclosure of cows.--Cfr. the same, _Âçvalây._ iv. 8.
[149] Yac ca goshu dushvapnyam yac câsme duhitar divah tritâya tad
vibhâvary âptyâya parâ vahânehaso va ûtayah suûtayo va ûtayah; _Rigv._
viii. 47, 14.
[150] Payah krishnâsu ruçad rohinîshu; _Rigv._ i. 62, 9.--Cfr. _Rigv._
i. 123, 9.
[151] _Grihyasû._ iv. 3.
[152] Âçvalây; _Grihyasû._
[153] v. 4, 23.
[154] Indro vâi vritram hatvâ viçvakarmâbhavat; iv. 3, 22.
[155] iii. 2, 37.
[156] Ushase carum yoshâh sâ râkâ so eva trishtup gave carum ya gáuh
sâ sinîvâlî (the new moon) so eva gagati; iii. 2, 48.
[157] Abhûd ushâ ruçatpaçur ityushaso rûpam; i. 2, 18.--Gobhirarunâir
ushâ âgimadhâvat tasmâd ushasyagatâyâm arunam ivaeva
pra-bhátyushasorûpam; iv. 2, 9.--Abhûd ushâ ruçatpaçur ityushaso
rûpam; i. 2, 18.
[158] _Âit.-brâhm._ vi. 4, 24.
[159] _Âit.-brâhm._ iv. 3, 17.
[160] iii. 8080.
[161] Cfr. Weber's _Über die Krishnagamâshtamî_, Berlin, 1868; _L'Inde
Française_, par Eugène Burnouf, Paris, 1828; _The Hindoos_, London,
1834, vol. i.
[162] iv. 3, 20.
[163] i. 3. 22.
[164] Mahînâm payo 'sy oshadhînám rasah; _Taittir. Yagurv._ i. 1,
10.--Kshîrodam sâgaram sarve mathnîmah sahitâ vayam nâuâushadhîh
samâhritya prakshipya ca tatastatah; _Râmây._ i. 46.--Cfr. Kuhn's _Die
Herabkunft des Feuers und des Göttertranks_, Berlin, 1859.
[165] The _Gandhamâdanas_ is especially defended by the _Gandharvâs_,
a word which seems to be composed of _gandha_, perfume, and _arvas_,
the one who goes on (and afterwards the horse), from the root _arv_,
expansion of _riv_; according to this, they would therefore be those
who go in the perfumes, as the nymphs beloved and guarded by them are
they who go in the waters (ap-sarasas). Cfr. the chapter on the Ass.
[166] Cfr. _Râmây._ vi. 82, 83.
[167] Böhtlingk's _Indische Sprüche_, 122, erster Theil; 2^te Aufl. S.
Petersburg, 1870.--Cfr. _Mahâbhâratam_, i. 1143-1145.
[168] Abhi tyam devam savitâram ûnyoh kavikratum arcâmi satyasavasam
ratnadhâm abhi priyam matim; _Tâittir. Yagurv._ i. 2, 6.
[169] i. 46.
[170] xiii. 7034.
[171] Hariv., 12,367.
[172] Âruhya tasya çikhare so 'paçyat paramâushadîm drishtvâ
cotpâtayâmâsa viçalyakaranîm çubhâm.--Viçalyo nirugah
çîghramudatishthanmahîtalât; vi. 83.
[173] Sa nighrishâñgulim râmo dhâute manahçilâgirâu cakara tilakam
patnyâ lalâte ruciram tadâ bâlârkasamavarnena tena sâ giridhâtunâ
lalâte vinivishthe na sasamdheva niçâbhavat; _Râmây._ ii. 105.
[174] Sîvyatu apah sûcyâchidyamânayâ dadâtu vîram çatadâyam ukthyam;
_Rigv._ ii. 32, 4.
[175] Tatah çubham sâ tarunârkasamnibham gataklamâ vasrayugam sadâ
malam srago 'ñgarâgam ca vibhûshanâni ca prasannacetâ gagrihe tu
mâithilî; _Râmây._ iii. 5.
[176] _Râmây._ iv. 50-53.
[177] Pîtâirnivâsitâ vastrâih krîdanto gomaye hrade; _Râmây._ v.
27.--Cfr. vi. 23.
[178] Sîtâmuvâca ha dîpyamânâm svayâ lakshmyâ sandhyâmâutpâtikîmiva;
_Râmây._ v. 52.
[179] Samarthâ gatanam gantumapivâ tvam rasâtalam--Acirammokshyase
sîte; _Râmây._ vi. 9, 10.
[180] Sâumyah somâtmagáh; _Râmây._ vi. 6.
[181] Sitah kakudvâniva tîkshnaçriñgo rarâga candrah paripûrnaçriñgah;
_Râmây._ v. 11.--Cfr. v. 20.
[182] Babhâu nashtaprabhah sûryo raganî câbhyavartata; _Râmây._ ii. 92.
[183] Nishâdarâgo guhah sanîlâmbudatulyavarnah; _Râmây._ ii. 48.
[184] Sadâ vanagocarah; _Râmây._ ii. 98.
[185] iii. 63.
[186] _Râmây._ iv. 1.
[187] Sahasrâkshadhanushmadbhis toyadâiriva mârutah; _Râmây._ v. 40.
[188] _Râmây._ v. 73.--In the _Râmâyanam_ itself, Râmas, overpowered
with grief, is compared now to a bull (v. 34), now to an elephant
tormented by a lion (v. 37).
[189] _Râmây._ vi. 105.
[190] _Râmây._ vi. 102.
[191] Çâradam sthûlaprishatam çriñgâbhyâm govrisho yathâ; _Râmây._
iii. 32.
[192] _Râmây._ v. 28.--The monster Kabandhas salutes them both with
the name of _Vrishabhaskandhâu_, or they who have bulls' shoulders;
_Râmây._ iii. 74.
[193] _Râmây._ vii. 36-38.
[194] _Râmây._ v. 93.
[195] Çrantânstu na tapet sûryah kathancidvânarânapi abhrâni gagnire
digbhyas châdayitvâ raveh prabhâm pravavarsha ca parganyo mârutaçca
çivo vavâu; _Râmây._ v. 95.
[196] _Râmây._ iii. 77.
[197] _Râmây._ iii. 23.
[198] _Râmây._ vi. 37.
[199] Paçya lakshmana mârîcam mahâçanisamasvanam sapadânugamâyântam
subâhum ca niçâcaram etâvadya mayâ paçya nîlâncanacayopamâu asmin
kshane samâdhûtâvanilenâmbudâviva; _Râmây._ i. 33.
[200] Çakreneva vinirmukto vagrastaruvaropari; _Râmây._ iii. 35.
[201] Mâyâmâçritya vipulâm vâtadurdinasamkulâm; _Râmây._ iii. 73.
[202] Te nikrittabhugaskandhâs kavandhâkriti ekadarçanâh nadanto
bhâiravânnâdânnâpatanti sma dânavâs; _Mbh._ iii. 806.
[203] Atha tatra mahâghoram vikritam tam mahocchrayam
vivriddhamaçirogrîvam kabandhamudare mukham romabhirnicitam
tikshnâirmahâgirimivocchritam nîlameghanibham ghoram
meghastanitanisvanam mahatâ câtipiñgena vipulenâyatenaca ekenorasi
dîrghena nayanenâtidarçinâ; _Râmây._ iii. 74.--The one yellowish eye
of Kabandhas reminds us of Vâiçravanas with only one yellowish eye
(_ekapinghekshanas_), his other eye having been burnt out by the
goddess Parvatî; _Râmây._ vii. 13.
[204] i. 49; ii. 7, _et passim_.
[205] Cfr. the chapter on the Wolf.
[206] iii. 40, _et seq._
[207] Tarunâdityasamkâçâm taptakâncanabhûshitâm raktâmbaradharâm
bâlâm; _Râmây._ vi. 103.--Of the dress of Sîtâ we read in another
place that it shines "like the light of the sun upon the summit of a
mountain" (Sûryaprabheva çâilâgre tasyâh kâusheyamuttamam; iv. 58).
[208] _Râmây._ vi. 99.
[209] Cfr. Weber's _Ueber das Râmâyana_, Berlin, 1870, p. 9.
[210] Ibid. p. 1.
[211] Vîryaçulkâ ca me kanyâ divyarûpâ gunânvitâ bhûtalâdutthitâ
pûrvam nâmnâ sîtetyayonigâ; _Râmây._ i. 68.
[212] _Râmây._ vii. 104, 105.
[213] _Kathâ sarit sâgaras_, iii. 17.
[214] i. 3888-3965.
[215] "Apriyanca na kartavyam krite câinâm tyagâmyaham," says
Garatkarus; _Mbh._ i. 1871.
[216] _Mbh._ i. 1870-1911.
[217] _Indische Studien_, vol. i. pp. 457-464, vol. ii. pp. 111-128.
[218] _History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature._
[219] Varunas, the god of night, has, like the night, a double aspect;
now he is the gloomy ocean, now the luminous milky ocean without a moon.
He is represented under the latter aspect in the 7th book of the
_Râmâyanam_ (canto 27), in which the solar hero, having entered the
celestial city of Varunas, finds the cow which always yields milk (payah
ksharantâm satatam tatra gâm ca dadarça sah), whence the white-rayed
moon emerges, whence also the ambrosia and the nectar (yataçcandrah
prabhavati çîtaraçmih--yasmâdamritamutpannam sudhâ câpi).
[220] Cfr. the chapter on the Horse.
[221] In the _Râmâyanam_, i. 63, the deliverer is Indras, who, even in
the _Âitareya_, does much for Çunahçepas.
[222] Tegasâ gharmadah sadâ--Prâsâdaçatasambâdham nirmitam
viçvakarmanâ çobhitam padminîbhiçca kâncanâiçca mahâdrumâih nilayah
pâçahastasya varunasya mahâtmanah; _Râmây._ iv. 43.
[223] i. 64.
[224] The Puranic-legend gives an instance of such another father in
Hiranyakaçipus, who, persecuting his own son Prahlâdas, tries to
destroy him in several ways, and finally throws him into the sea;
Prahlâdas praises Vishnus, and is delivered.--Cfr. _The Vishnu
Purâna_, translated by H. Wilson, i. 17-20. London: Trübner, 1864.
[225] Chap. xii. 13.
[226] i. 54-56.
[227] Etadeva hi me ratnametadeva hi me dhanam etadva hi sarvasvam
etadeva hi givitam; _Râmây._ 1. c.
[228] Nanâda vividhân nâdân yathâ prâvrishi toyadah; _Râmây._ iii. 24.
[229] Dhârayan mâhisham rupam tîkshnaçriñgo bhayâvahah; _Râmây._ iv.
9.--Further on, instead (iv. 46), the buffalo is said to be the
brother of Dundubhis, and to have the strength of a thousand serpents
(balam nâgasahasrasya dhârayan) or elephants, for the word _nâgas_ is
equivocal.
[230] Çriñgâbhyâmâlikhan darpat taddvâram; _Râmây_, iv. 9.--Cfr. the
two chapters which treat of the Horse and the Monkey.
[231] I do not insist upon this brâhmanic god, because his legend is
now popular.--Cfr., for the rest, for the relationship of Krishnas
with the cows, the cowherds, and the cow-maiden, the whole 5th book of
the _Vishnu Purâna_, translated by H. Wilson, and the _Gîtagovindas_
of Gayadevas, edidit Lassen, Bonn, 1836.
[232] Viçvarûpo vâi tvâshtrah purohito devânâm âsît svasriyo 'surânâm
tasya trîni çirshâny asant--Indras tasya vagram âdâya çîrshâny achinad
yat somapânam--Brahma-hatyam upâ 'grihnat--Tam bhûtâny abhy akroçan
brahmahann iti; _Tâittirîya Samhitâ_, ed. Weber. ii. 5, 1-6.
[233] vii. 5, 28.
[234] Sa tasya khañgena mahâçirânsi kapih samas tâm sukundalâm
kruddhah praciccheda tadâ hanûmâns tvâshtrâtmagasyeva çirânsi çakrah;
_Râmây._ vii. 50.
[235] _Râmây._ vii. 10.
[236] _Mbh._ i. 4990.--Cfr. also the three phallical and solar brothers
of the story of Çunahçepas (him with the luminous tail or phallus).
[237] i. 4775.
[238] Balam nâgasahasrasya yasmin kunde pratishthitam yâvatpivati bâlo
'yam tâvad asmâi pradîyatam--ekocchvâsâttatah kundam danah; _Mbh._ i.
5030, 5032.--A similar legend is found again in the third book of the
_Mahâbhâratam_, under the form of an impenetrable forest, in which the
king of the serpents envelops Bhîmas.
[239] _Mbh._ i. 4777.
[240] i. 5300-5304.
[241] i. 680-828.
[242] Tam kliçyamânamindro 'paçyatsa vagram preshayâmâsa--gacchâsya
brâhmanasya sâhâyyam kurusveti--atha vagram dandakâshthamanupraviçya
tadvilamadârayat; _Mbh._ i. 794-795.
[243] In a legend of the Tibetan Buddhists, referred to by Professor
Schiefner in his interesting work, _Ueber Indra's Donnerkeil_ (St
Petersburg), 1848, we find two valiant heroes who, upon Mount
Gridhrakûta (the vulture's peak), strive, in presence of their master,
to lift the vagram (that is, the arm in the form of a wedge, the
lever-rod, the thunderbolt of Indras), but in vain; Vagrapânis alone
succeeds in lifting the vagram with his right hand. Râmas makes a
similar trial of strength in the _Râmâyanam_, when he lifts and breaks
in pieces a bow, which no one had before been able even to move.
[244] Cfr. the following chapter.
[245] i. 2772-2783.
[246] To the myth of the ravished earrings is almost always joined, even
in the popular tales, the story of the horse, which is always especially
referred to the Açvinâu, as that of the bull to Indras. In the Puranic
legends, Krishnas receives from the earth the earrings of Aditis (whom
we already know to be a cow), whilst he frees the princesses from the
infernal Narakas.--Cfr. the _Vishnu Purâna_, v. 29.
[247] v. 17.
[248] Cfr. the chapters which treat of the Wolf, the Fox, and the
Serpent; and also the foregoing discussion on the Vedic riddles, where
the sun is called _anipadyamânas_.
[249] Aham galam kimuncâmi pragânâm hitakâmyayâ; _Mbh._ i. 3317.
[250] iii. 23, 24.
[251] Dadarça râgâ tâm tatra kanyâmagniçikhâmiva; _Mbh._ i. 3294.
[252] _Mbh._ i. 3379-3394
[253] _Mbh._ i. 3435-3545.
[254] _Mbh._ i. 4193-4211.
[255] _Mbh._ i. 4211-4216.
[256] We shall find the lame goat in the chapter which treats of the
Lamb and the Goat.
[257] 1908.
[258] v. 12.
[259] The word _badhiras_ means here the crooked, the crippled one,
and not the deaf (from the root _badh_ or _vadh_, to wound, to cut);
the more so that here the name of the blind man's companion is
Mantharakas, a word which properly means the slow one. The curved line
and the slow line correspond; and the curved one, who cannot stand
upright, may be the hunchback just as well as the cripple, the
crooked, the lame.--Cfr. The chapter on the Tortoise.
[260] For the incident of the hunchback who betrays the blind man, in
the same popular tale, cfr. next chapter.
[261] i. 6527.
[262] Sâudâminîva câbhreshu tatrâevântaradhîyata; _Mbh._ i. 6557.
[263] Tasminnripatiçârdûle pravishte nagaram punah pravavarsha
sahasrâkshah çasyâni ganayanprabhuh; _Mbh._ 6629, 6630.
[264] i. 6651-6772.
[265] The hundred daughters of King Kuçanabhas, and of the nymph
Ghritâci, who walks in curdled milk, recalling to us the mythical
cow.--Cfr. _Râmây._ i. 35.
[266] Cfr. Virgil, _Ænëid_, I. 65-75, where Juno gives the nymph
Deiopea to Æolus.