There a month when he had sojourned--of king Bhima taking leave,
Guarded but by few attendants--to Nishadha took his way.
With a single splendid chariot--and with elephants sixteen,
And with fifty armed horsemen--and six hundred men on foot;
Making, as 'twere, earth to tremble--hastening onward, did the king,
Enter awful in his anger--and terrific in his speed.
Then the son of Virasena--to king Pushkara drew near;
"Play we once again," then said he--"much the wealth I have acquired:
All I have, even Damayanti--every treasure I possess,
Set I now upon the hazard--Pushkara, thy kingdom thou:
In the game once more contend we--'tis my settled purpose this,
Brother, at a single hazard--play we boldly for our lives.
From another he who treasures--he who mighty realm hath won,
'Tis esteemed a bounden duty--to play back the counter game.
If thou shrinkest from the hazard--be our game the strife of swords,
Meet we in the single combat--all our difference to decide.
An hereditary kingdom--may by any means be sought,
Be re-won by any venture--this the maxim of the wise.
Of two courses set before thee--Pushkara, the option make,
Or in play to stand the hazard--or in battle stretch the bow."
By Nishadha's lord thus challenged--Pushkara, with smile suppressed,
As secure of easy victory--answered to the lord of earth;
"Oh what joy! abundant treasures--thou hast won, again to play;
Oh what joy! of Damayanti--now the hard-won prize is mine:
Oh what joy! again thou livest--with thy consort, mighty armed!
With the wealth I win bedecked--soon shall Bhima's daughter stand,
By my side, as by great Indra--stands the Apsara in heaven.[137]
Still on thee hath dwelt my memory--still I've waited, king, for thee;
In the play I find no rapture--but 'gainst kinsmen like thyself.
When this day the round-limbed princess--Damayanti, undespised,
I shall win, I rest contented--still within mine heart she dwells."
Hearing his contemptuous language--franticly thus pouring forth,
With his sword th' indignant Nala--fain had severed off his head.
But with haughty smile, with anger--glaring in his blood-red eyes,
"Play we now, nor talk we longer--conquered, thou'lt no longer talk."
Then of Pushkara the gaming--and of Nala straight began:
In a single throw by Nala--was the perilous venture gained;
Pushkara, his gold, his jewels--at one hazard all was won!
Pushkara, in play thus conquered--with a smile the king rejoined:
"Mine again is all this kingdom--undisturbed, its foes o'ercome.
Fallen king! Vidarbha's daughter--by thine eyes may ne'er be seen.
Thou art now, with all thy household--unto abject slavery sunk.
Not thyself achieved the conquest--that subdued me heretofore!
'Twas achieved by mightier Kali--that thou didst not, fool, perceive.
Yet my wrath, by him enkindled--will I not 'gainst thee direct;
Live thou henceforth at thy pleasure--freely I thy life bestow,
And of thine estate and substance--give I thee thy fitting share.
Such my pleasure, in thy welfare--hero, do I take delight,
And mine unabated friendship--never shall from thee depart.
Pushkara, thou art my brother--may'st thou live an hundred years!"
Nala thus consoled his brother--in his conscious power and strength,
Sent him home to his own city--once embracing, once again.
Pushkara, thus finding comfort--answered to Nishadha's lord,
Answered he to Punyasloka--bowing low with folded hands:
"Everlasting be thy glory! may'st thou live ten thousand years!
That my life to me thou grantest--and a city for mine home!"
Hospitably entertained--there a month when he had dwelt,
Joyful to his own proud city--Pushkara, with all his kin,
With a well-appointed army--of attendant slaves an host,
Shining like the sun departed,--in his full meridian orb.
Pushkara thus crowned with riches--thus unharmed, when he dismissed,[138]
Entered then his royal city--with surpassing pomp, the king:
As he entered, to his subjects--Nala spake the words of peace.
* * * * *
From the city, from the country--all, with hair erect with joy,
Came, with folded hands addressed him--and the counsellors of state.
"Happy are we now, O monarch--in the city, in the fields,
Setting forth to do thee homage--as to Indra all the gods."
Then at peace the tranquil city--the first festal gladness o'er,
With a mighty host escorted--Damayanti brought he home.
Damayanti rich in treasures--in her father's blessings rich,
Glad dismissed the mighty-minded--Bhima, fearful in his strength.
With the daughter of Vidarbha--with his children in his joy,
Nala lived, as lives the sovereign--of the gods in Nandana.[139]
Re-ascended thus to glory--he, among the kings of earth,
Ruled his realm in Jambudwipa[140]--thus re-won, with highest fame;
And all holy rites performed he--with devout munificence.
THE DEATH OF YAJNADATTA.
This extract from the Ramayana has been edited by M. Chezy,
with a free translation into French prose by M. Bournouf, a
literal version into Latin, and a grammatical commentary and
notes by the editor.
Through the arts of one of his wives Kaikeyi, to whom he had
made an incautious vow to grant her demand, Dasaratha is
obliged to send his victorious son Rama into banishment at
the very moment of his marriage with the beautiful Sita. Rama
is accompanied in his exile by Lakshmana. The following
episode describes the misery and distress of the father,
deprived of his favourite son.
THE DEATH OF YAJNADATTA.
Scarce Rama to the wilderness--had with his younger brother gone,
Abandoned to his deep distress--king Dasaratha sate alone.
Upon his sons to exile driven--when thought that king, as Indra bright,
Darkness came o'er him, as in heaven--when pales th' eclipsed sun his light.
Six days he sate, and mourned and pined--for Rama all that weary time,
At midnight on his wandering mind--rose up his old forgotten crime.
His queen Kausalya, the divine--addressed he, as she rested near:
"Kausalya, if thou wak'st, incline--to thy lord's speech thy ready ear.
Whatever deed, or good or ill--by man, oh blessed queen, is wrought,
Its proper fruit he gathers still--by time to slow perfection brought.
He who the opposing counsel's weight--compares not in his judgment cool,
Or misery or bliss his fate--among the sage is deemed a fool.
As one that quits the Amra bower--the bright Palasa's pride to gain,
Mocked by the promise of its flower--seeks its unripening fruit in vain.
So I the lovely Amra left[141]--for the Palasa's barren bloom,[142]
Through mine own fatal error 'reft--of banished Rama, mourn in gloom.
Kausalya! in my early youth--by my keen arrow at its mark,
Aimed with too sure and deadly truth--was wrought a deed most fell and dark.
At length the evil that I did--hath fallen upon my fatal head,[143]
As when on subtle poison hid--an unsuspecting child hath fed;
Even as that child unwittingly--hath made the poisonous fare his food,
Even so in ignorance by me--was wrought that deed of guilt and blood.
Unwed wert thou in virgin bloom--and I in youth's delicious prime,
The season of the rains had come--that soft and love-enkindling time.
Earth's moisture all absorbed, the sun--through all the world its warmth
had spread,
Turned from the north, its course begun--where haunt the spirits of the
dead![144]
Gathering o'er all th' horizon's bound--on high the welcome clouds
appeared,[145]
Exulting all the birds flew round--cranes, cuckoos, peacocks, flew and
veered.
And all down each wide-water'd shore--the troubled, yet still limpid floods,
Over their banks began to pour--as o'er them hung the bursting clouds.
And, saturate with cloud-born dew--the glittering verdant-mantled earth,
The cuckoos and the peacocks flew--disputing as in drunken mirth.
In such a time, so soft, so bland--oh beautiful! I chanced to go,
With quiver, and with bow in hand--where clear Sarayu's waters flow.
If haply to the river's brink--at night the buffalo might stray,
Or elephant, the stream to drink,--intent my savage game to slay,
Then of a water cruise, as slow--it filled, the gurgling sound I heard,
Nought saw I, but the sullen low--of elephant that sound appeared.
The swift well-feathered arrow I--upon the bowstring fitting straight,
Toward the sound the shaft let fly--ah, cruelly deceived by fate!
The winged arrow scarce had flown--and scarce had reached its destined aim,
'Ah me, I'm slain,' a feeble moan--in trembling human accents came.
'Ah whence hath come this fatal shaft--against a poor recluse like me,
Who shot that bolt with deadly craft--alas! what cruel man is he?
At the lone midnight had I come--to draw the river's limpid flood,
And here am struck to death, by whom?--ah whose this wrongful deed of blood.
Alas! and in my parent's heart--the old, the blind, and hardly fed,
In the wild wood, hath pierced the dart--that here hath struck their
offspring dead.
Ah, deed most profitless as worst--a deed of wanton useless guilt;
As though a pupil's hand accurs'd[146]--his holy master's blood had spilt.
But not mine own untimely fate--it is not that which I deplore,
My blind, my aged parents state--'tis their distress afflicts me more.
That sightless pair, for many a day--from me their scanty food have earned,
What lot is theirs, when I'm away--to the five elements returned?[147]
Alike all wretched they, as I--ah, whose this triple deed of blood?
For who the herbs will now supply--the roots, the fruit, their blameless
food?'
My troubled soul, that plaintive moan--no sooner heard, so faint and low,
Trembled to look on what I'd done--fell from my shuddering hand my bow.
Swift I rushed up, I saw him there--heart-pierced, and fall'n the stream
beside,
That hermit boy with knotted hair--his clothing was the black deer's hide.
On me most piteous turned his look--his wounded breast could scarce respire,
'What wrong, oh Kshatriya,[148] have I done--to be thy deathful arrow's aim,
The forest's solitary son--to draw the limpid stream I came.
Both wretched and both blind they lie--in the wild wood all destitute,
My parents, listening anxiously--to hear my home-returning foot.
By this, thy fatal shaft, this one--three miserable victims fall,
The sire, the mother, and the son--ah why? and unoffending all.
How vain my father's life austere--the Veda's studied page how vain,
He knew not with prophetic fear--his son would fall untimely slain.
But had he known, to one as he--so weak, so blind, 'twere bootless all,
No tree can save another tree--by the sharp hatchet marked to fall.
But to my father's dwelling haste--oh Raghu's[149] son, lest in his ire,
Thy head with burning curse he blast--as the dry forest tree the fire.
Thee to my father's lone retreat--will quickly lead yon onward path,
Oh haste, his pardon to entreat--or ere he curse thee in his wrath.
Yet first, that gently I may die--draw forth the barbed steel from hence,
Allay thy fears, no Brahmin I--not thine of Brahmin blood the offence.
My sire, a Brahmin hermit he--my mother was of Sudra race.'[150]
So spake the wounded boy, on me--while turned his unreproaching face.
As from his palpitating breast--I gently drew the mortal dart,
He saw me trembling stand, and blest--that boy's pure spirit seemed to part.
As died that holy hermit's son--from me my glory seemed to go,
With troubled mind I stood, cast down--t' inevitable endless woe.
That shaft that seemed his life to burn--like serpent venom, thus drawn out,
I, taking up his fallen urn--t' his father's dwelling took my route.
There miserable, blind, and old--of their sole helpmate thus forlorn,
His parents did these eyes behold--like two sad birds with pinions shorn.
Of him in fond discourse they sate--lone, thinking only of their son,
For his return so long, so late--impatient, oh by me undone.
My footsteps' sound he seemed to know--and thus the aged hermit said,
'Oh, Yajnadatta, why so slow?--haste, let the cooling draught be shed.
Long, on the river's pleasant brink--hast thou been sporting in thy joy,
Thy mother's fainting spirits sink--in fear for thee, but thou, my boy,
If aught to grieve thy gentle heart--thy mother or thy sire do wrong,
Bear with us, nor when next we part--on the slow way thus linger long.
The feet of those that cannot move--of those that cannot see the eye,
Our spirits live but in thy love--Oh wherefore, dearest, no reply?'
My throat thick swollen with bursting tears--my power of speech that
seemed to choke,
With hands above my head, my fears--breaking my quivering voice, I spoke;
'The Kshatriya Dasaratha I--Oh hermit sage, 'tis not thy son!
Most holy ones, unknowingly--a deed of awful guilt I've done.
With bow in hand I took my way--along Sarayu's pleasant brink,
The savage buffalo to slay--or elephant come down to drink.
A sound came murmuring to my ear--'twas of the urn that slowly filled,
I deemed some savage wild-beast near--my erring shaft thy son had killed.
A feeble groan I heard, his breast--was pierced by that dire arrow keen:
All trembling to the spot I pressed--lo there thy hermit boy was seen.
Flew to the sound my arrow, meant--the wandering elephant to slay,
Toward the river brink it went--and there thy son expiring lay.
The fatal shaft when forth I drew--to heaven his parting spirit soared,
Dying he only thought of you--long, long, your lonely lot deplored.
Thus ignorantly did I slay--your child beloved, Oh hermit sage!
Turn thou on me, whose fated day--is come, thy all-consuming rage.'
He heard my dreadful tale at length--he stood all lifeless, motionless;
Then deep he groaned, and gathering strength--me his meek suppliant did
address.
'Kshatriya, 'tis well that thou hast turned--thy deed of murder to rehearse,
Else over all thy land had burned--the fire of my wide-wasting curse.
If with premeditated crime--the unoffending blood thou'dst spilt,
The Thunderer on his throne sublime--had shaken at such tremendous guilt.
Against the anchorite's sacred head--hadst, knowing, aimed thy shaft
accursed,
In th' holy Vedas deeply read--thy skull in seven wide rents had burst.
But since, unwitting, thou hast wrought--that deed of death, thou livest
still,
Oh son of Raghu, from thy thought--dismiss all dread of instant ill.
Oh lead me to that doleful spot--where my poor boy expiring lay,
Beneath the shaft thy fell hand shot--of my blind age, the staff, the stay.
On the cold earth 'twere yet a joy--to touch my perished child again,
(So long if I may live) my boy--in one last fond embrace to strain.
His body all bedewed with gore--his locks in loose disorder thrown,
Let me, let her but touch once more--to the dread realm of Yama gone.'
Then to that fatal place I brought--alone that miserable pair;
His sightless hands, and hers I taught--to touch their boy that slumbered
there.
Nor sooner did they feel him lie--on the moist herbage coldly thrown,
Both with a shrill and feeble cry--upon the body cast them down.
The mother as she lay and groaned--addressed her boy with quivering tongue,
And like a heifer sadly moaned--just plundered of her new-dropped young:
'Was not thy mother once, my son--than life itself more dear to thee?
Why the long way hast thou begun--without one gentle word to me.
One last embrace, and then, beloved--upon thy lonely journey go!
Alas! with anger art thou moved--that not a word thou wilt bestow?'
The miserable father now[151]--with gentle touch each cold limb pressed,
And to the dead his words of woe--as to his living son, addressed:
'I too, my son, am I not here?--thy sire with thy sad mother stands;
Awake, arise, my child, draw near--and clasp each neck with loving hands.
Who now, 'neath the dark wood by night--a pious reader shall be heard?
Whose honied voice my ear delight--with th' holy Veda's living word?
The evening prayer, th' ablution done--the fire adored with worship meet,
Who now shall soothe like thee, my son--with fondling hand, my aged feet?
And who the herb, the wholesome root--or wild fruit from the wood shall
bring?
To us the blind, the destitute--with helpless hunger perishing?
Thy blind old mother, heaven-resigned--within our hermit-dwelling lone,
How shall I tend, myself as blind--now all my strength of life is gone!
Oh stay, my child, Oh part not yet--to Yama's dwelling go not now,
To-morrow forth we all will set--thy mother, and myself, and thou:
For both, in grief for thee, and both--so helpless, ere another day,
From this dark world, but little loath--shall we depart, death's easy prey!
And I myself, by Yama's seat--companion of thy darksome way,
The guerdon to thy virtues meet--from that great Judge of men will pray.
Because, my boy, in innocence--by wicked deed thou hast been slain,
Rise, where the heroes dwell, who thence--ne'er stoop to this dark world
again.
Those that to earth return no more--the sense-subdued, the hermits wise,
Priests their sage masters that adore--to their eternal seats arise.
Those that have studied to the last--the Veda's, the Vedanga's page,
Where saintly kings of earth have passed--Nahusa and Yayati sage;
The sires of holy families--the true to wedlock's sacred vow;
And those that cattle, gold, or rice--or lands with liberal hands bestow;
That ope th' asylum to th' oppressed--that ever love, and speak the truth,
Up to the dwellings of the blest--th' eternal, soar thou, best loved youth.
For none of such a holy race--within the lowest seat may dwell;
But that will be his fatal place--by whom my only offspring fell.'
So groaning deep, that wretched pair--the hermit and his wife, essayed
The meet ablution to prepare--their hands their last faint effort made.
Divine, with glorious body bright--in splendid car of heaven elate,
Before them stood their son in light--and thus consoled their helpless
state:
'Meed of my duteous filial care--I've reached the wished for realms of
joy;[152]
And ye, in those glad realms, prepare--to meet full soon your dear-loved
boy.
My parents, weep no more for me--yon warrior monarch slew me not,
My death was thus ordained to be;--predestined was the shaft he shot."
Thus, as he spoke, the anchorite's son--soared up the glowing heaven afar,
In air his heavenly body shone--while stood he in his gorgeous car.
But they, of that lost boy so dear--the last ablution meetly made,
Thus spoke to me that holy seer--with folded hands above his head.
'Albeit by thy unknowing dart--my blameless boy untimely fell,
A curse I lay upon thy heart--whose fearful pain I know too well.
As sorrowing for my son I bow--and yield up my unwilling breath,
So, sorrowing for thy son shalt thou--at life's last close repose in death.'
That curse, dread sounding in mine ear--to mine own city forth I set,
Nor long survived that hermit seer--to mourn his child in lone regret.
This day that Brahmin curse fulfilled--hath fallen on my devoted head,
In anguish for any parted child--have all my sinking spirits fled.
No more my darkened eyes can see--my clouded memory is o'ercast,
Dark Yama's heralds summon me--to his deep, dreary, realm to haste.
Mine eye no more my Rama sees--and grief o'erburns, my spirits sink,
As the swollen stream sweeps down the trees--that grow upon the crumbling
brink.
Oh, felt I Rama's touch, or spake--one word his home-returning voice,
Again to life should I awake--as quaffing nectar draughts rejoice,
But what so sad could e'er have been--celestial partner of my heart,
Than, Rama's beauteous face unseen,--from life untimely to depart.
His exile in the forest o'er--him home returned to Oudes high town,
Oh happy those, that see once more--like Indra from the sky come down.
No mortal men, but gods I deem--moonlike, before whose wondering sight,
My Rama's glorious face shall beam--from the dark forest bursting bright.
Happy that gaze on Rama's face--with beauteous teeth and smile of love,
Like the blue lotus in its grace--and like the starry king above.
Like to the full autumnal moon--and like the lotus in its bloom,
That youth who sees returning soon--how blest shall be that mortal's doom.
Dwelling on that sweet memory--on his last bed the monarch lay,
And slowly, softly, seemed to die--as fades the moon at dawn away.
"Ah, Rama! ah, my son!" thus said--or scarcely said, the king of men,
His gentle hapless spirit fled--in sorrow for his Rama then,
The shepherd of his people old--at midnight on his bed of death,
The tale of his son's exile told--and breathed away his dying breath.
EXTRACTS FROM THE MAHABHARATA.
THE BRAHMIN'S LAMENT.
The hostility of the kindred races of Pandu and Kuru forms
one of the great circles of Indian fable. It fills great part
of the immense poem, the Mahabharata. At this period the five
sons of Pandu and their mother Kunti have been driven into
the wilderness from the court of their uncle Dritarashtra at
Nagapur. The brothers, during their residence in the forest,
have an encounter with a terrible giant, Hidimba, the
prototype of the Cyclops of Homer, and of the whole race of
giants of northern origin, who, after amusing our ancestors,
children of larger growth, descended to our nurseries, from
whence they are now well-nigh exploded. After this adventure
the brothers take up their residence in the city of Ekachara,
where they are hospitably received in the house of a Brahmin.
The neighbourhood of this city is haunted by another terrible
giant, Baka, whose cannibal appetite has been glutted by a
succession of meaner victims. It is now come to the Brahmin's
turn to furnish the fatal banquet; they overhear the
following complaint of their host, whose family, consisting
of himself, his wife, a grown up daughter, and a son a little
child, must surrender one to become the horrible repast of
the monster. In turn, the father, the mother, in what may be
fairly called three singularly pathetic Indian elegies,
enforce each their claim to the privilege of suffering for
the rest.
THE BRAHMIN'S LAMENT.
Alas for life, so vain, so weary--in this changing world below,
Ever-teeming root of sorrow--still dependent, full of woe!
Still to life clings strong affliction--life that's one long suffering all,
Whoso lives must bear his sorrow--soon or late that must befall.
* * * * *
Oh to find a place of refuge--in this dire extremity,
For my wife, my son, my daughter--and myself what hope may be?
Oft I've said to thee, my dearest--Priestess, that thou knowest well,
But my word thou never heededst--let us go where peace may dwell.
"Here I had my birth, my nurture--still my sire is living here;
Oh unwise!" 'twas thus thou answeredst--to my oft-repeated prayer.
Thine old father went to heaven--slept thy mother by his side,
Then thy near and dear relations--why delight'st thou here t' abide?
Fondly loving still thy kindred--thine old home thou would'st not leave,
Of thy kindred death deprived thee--in thy griefs I could but grieve.
Now to me is death approaching--never victim will I give,
From mine house, like some base craven--and myself consent to live.
Thee with righteous soul, the gentle--ever like a mother deemed,
A sweet friend the gods have given me--aye my choicest wealth esteem'd.
From thy parents thee, consenting--mistress of my house I took,
Thee I chose, and thee I honoured--as enjoins the holy book.
Thou the high-born, thou the virtuous!--my dear children's mother thou,
Only to prolong my being--thee the good, the blameless, now,
Can to thy death surrender--mine own true, my faithful wife?
Yet my son can I abandon--in his early bloom of life,
Offer him in his sweet childhood--with no down his cheek to shade?
Her, whom Brahma, the all-bounteous--for a lovely bride hath made,
Mother of a race of heroes--a heaven-winning race may make;[153]
Of myself begot, the virgin--could I ever her forsake?
Towards a son the hearts of fathers--some have thought, are deepest moved,
Others deem the daughter dearer--both alike I've ever loved:
She that sons, that heaven hath in her--sons whose offerings heaven may win,
Can I render up my daughter--blameless, undefiled by sin?
If myself I offer, sorrow--in the next world my lot must be,
Hardly then could live my children--and my wife bereft of me.
One of these so dear to offer--to the wise, were sin, were shame,
Yet without me they must perish--how to 'scape the sin, the blame!
Woe! Oh woe! where find I refuge--for myself, for mine, oh where!
Better 'twere to die together--for to live I cannot bear.
_The_ BRAHMIN'S WIFE _speaks_.
As of lowly caste, my husband--yield not thus thy soul to woe,
This is not a time for wailing--who the Vedas knows must know:
Fate inevitable orders--all must yield to death in turn,
Hence the doom, th' irrevocable--it beseems not thee to mourn.
Man hath wife, and son, and daughter--for the joy of his own heart.
Wherefore wisely check thy sorrow--it is I must hence depart.
Tis the wife's most holy duty--law on earth without repeal,
That her life she offer freely--when demands her husband's weal.
And e'en now, a deed so noble--hath its meed of pride and bliss,
In the next world life eternal--and unending fame in this.
'Tis a high, yet certain duty--that my life I thus resign,
'Tis thy right, as thy advantage--both the willing deed enjoin--
All for which a wife is wedded--long erenow through me thou'st won,
Blooming son and gentle daughter--that my debt is paid and done.
Thou may'st well support our children--gently guard, when I am gone,
I shall have no power to guard them--nor support them, left alone.
Oh, despoiled of thy assistance--lord of me, and all I have,
How these little ones from ruin--how my hapless self to save:
Widow'd, reft of thee, and helpless--with two children in their youth,
How maintain my son, and daughter--in the path of right and truth.
From the lustful, from the haughty--how shall I our child protect,
When they seek thy blameless daughter--by a father's awe unchecked.
As the birds in numbers swarming--gather o'er the earth-strewn corn,
Thus the men round some sad widow--of her noble lord forlorn.
Thus by all the rude and reckless--with profane desires pursued,[154]
How shall I the path still follow--loved and honoured by the good.
This thy dear, thy only daughter--this pure maiden innocent,
How to teach the way of goodness--where her sire, her fathers went.
How can I instil the virtues--in the bosom of our child,
Helpless and beset on all sides--as thou would'st in duty skilled.
Round thy unprotected daughter--Sudras like[155] to holy lore,
Scorning me in their wild passion--will unworthy suitors pour.
And if I refuse to give her--mindful of thy virtuous course,
As the storks the rice of offering[156]--they will bear her off by force.
Should I see my son degenerate--like his noble sire no more,
In the power of the unworthy--the sweet daughter that I bore;
And myself, the world's scorn, wandering--so as scarce myself to know,
Of proud men the scoff, the outcast--I should die of shame and woe.
And bereft of me, my children--and without thy aid to cherish,
As the fish when water fails them--both would miserably perish.
Thus of all the three is ruin--the inevitable lot,
Desolate of thee, their guardian--wherefore, Oh, forsake us not!
The dark way before her husband--'tis a wife's first bliss to go,
'Tis a wife's that hath borne children--this the wise, the holy know.
For thee forsaken be my daughter--let my son forsaken be,
I for thee forsook my kindred--and forsake my life for thee.
More than offering 'tis, than penance--liberal gift or sacrifice,
When a wife, thus clearly summoned--for her husband's welfare dies.
That which now to do I hasten--all the highest duty feel,
For thy bliss, for thy well-doing--thine and all thy race's weal.
Men, they say, but pray for children--riches, or a generous friend,
To assist them in misfortune--and a wife for the same end.
The whole race (the wise declare it)--thou the increaser of thy race,
Than the single self less precious--ever holds a second place.
Let me then discharge the duty--and preserve thyself by me,
Give me thine assent, all-honoured--and my children's guardian be.
Women must be spared from slaughter--this the learn'd in duty say,
Even the giant knows that duty--me he will not dare to slay.
Of the man the death is certain--of the woman yet in doubt,
Wherefore, noblest, on the instant--as the victim send me out.
I have lived with many blessings--I have well fulfilled my part,
I have given thee beauteous offspring--death hath nought t' appal mine
heart.
I've borne children, I am aged--in my soul I've all revolved,
And with spirit strong to serve thee--I am steadfast and resolved.
Offering me, all-honoured husband--thou another wife wilt find,
And to her wilt do thy duty--gentle as to me, and kind.
Many wives if he espouses--man incurs nor sin nor blame,
For a wife to wed another--'tis inexpiable shame.
This well weighed within thy spirit--and the sin thyself to die,
Save thyself, thy race, thy children--be the single victim I.
* * * * *
Hearing thus his wife, the husband--fondly clasp'd her to his breast,
And their tears they poured together--by their mutual grief oppressed.
THIRD SONG.
Of these two the troubled language--in the chamber as she heard,
Lost herself in grief the daughter--thus took up the doleful word.
_The_ DAUGHTER _spake_.
Why to sorrow thus abandoned?--weep not thus, as all forlorn,
Hear ye now my speech, my parents--and your sorrows may be borne.
Me with right ye may abandon--none that right in doubt will call,
Yield up her that best is yielded--I alone may save you all.
Wherefore wishes man for children?--they in need mine help will be:
Lo, the time is come, my parents--in your need find help in me.
Ever here the son by offering--or hereafter doth atone,
Either way is he th' atoner--hence the wise have named him son.
Daughters too, the great forefathers--of a noble race desire,
And I now shall prove their wisdom--saving thus from death my sire.
Lo, my brother but an infant!--to the other world goest thou,
In a little time we perish--who may dare to question how?
But if first depart to heaven--he that after me was born,
Cease our race's sacred offerings--our offended sires would mourn.
Without father, without mother--of my brother too bereft,
I shall die, unused to sorrow--yet to deepest sorrow left.
But thyself, my sire! my mother--and my gentle brother save,
And their meet, unfailing offerings--shall our fathers' spirits have.
A second self the son, a friend the wife--the daughter's but a grief,
From thy grief thy daughter offering--thou of right wilt find relief.
Desolate and unprotected--ever wandering here and there,
Shall I quickly be, my father!--reft of thy paternal care!
But wert thou through me, my father--and thy race from peril freed,
Noble fruit should I have borne thee--having done this single deed.
But if thou from hence departing-leav'st me, noblest, to my fate,
Down I sink to bitterest misery--save, Oh save me from that state!
For mine own sake, and for virtue's--for our noble race's sake,
Yield up her who best is yielded--me thine own life's ransom make.
Instantly this step, the only--the inevitable take.
Hath the world a fate more wretched--than when thou to heaven art fled,
Like a dog to wander begging--and subsist on others' bread.
But my father, thus preserving--thus preserving all that's thine,
I shall then become immortal--and partake of bliss divine,
And the gods, and our forefathers--all will hail the prudent choice,
Still will have the water offerings--that their holy spirits rejoice.
* * * * *
As they heard her lamentation--in their troubled anguish deep,
Wept the father, wept the mother--'gan the daughter too to weep.
Then the little son beheld them--and their doleful moan he heard;
And with both his eyes wide open--lisped he thus his broken word.
"Weep not father, weep not mother--Oh my sister, weep not so!"
First to one, and then to th' other--smiling went he to and fro.
Then a blade of spear-grass lifting--thus in bolder glee he said,
"With this spear-grass will I kill him--this man-eating giant dead."
Though o'erpowered by bitterest sorrow--as they heard their prattling boy,
Stole into the parents' bosoms--mute and inexpressive joy.
THE DELUGE.
The following extract from the Mahabharata was published by
Bopp, with a German translation, (the promised Latin version
has not yet reached this country,) with four other extracts
from the same poem. It is inserted here not on account of its
poetical merit, but on account of the interest of the
subject. It is the genuine, and probably the earliest,
version of the Indian tradition of the Flood. The author has
made the following observations on this subject in the
Quarterly Review, which he ventures here to transcribe.
Nothing has thrown so much discredit on oriental studies,
particularly on the valuable Asiatic Researches, as the fixed
determination to find the whole of the Mosaic history in the
remoter regions of the East. It was not to be expected that,
when the new world of oriental literature was suddenly
disclosed, the first attempts to explore would be always
guided by cool and dispassionate criticism. Even Sir W. Jones
was led away, at times, by the ardour of his imagination; and
the gorgeous palaces of the Mahabadian dynasty, which were
built on the authority of the Desatir and the Dabistan, and
thrown upward into an age anterior even to the earliest
Indian civilisation, have melted away, and 'left not a wreck
behind,' before the cooler and more profound investigations
of Mr. Erskine[157]. Sir W. Jones was succeeded by Wilford, a
man of most excursive imagination, bred in the school of
Bryant, who, even if he had himself been more deeply versed
in the ancient language, would have been an unsafe guide. But
Wilford, it is well known, unfortunately betrayed to the
crafty and mercenary pundits whom he employed, the objects
which he hoped to find; and these unscrupulous interpreters,
unwilling to disappoint their employer, had little difficulty
in discovering, or forging, or interpolating, whatever might
suit his purpose. The honest candour with which Wilford, a
man of the strictest integrity, made the open and humiliating
confession of the deceptions which had been practised upon
him, ought for ever to preserve his memory from disrespect.
The fictions to which he had given currency, only retained,
and still we are ashamed to say retain, their ground in
histories of the Bible and works of a certain school of
theology, from which no criticism can exorcise an error once
established: still, however, with sensible men, a kind of
suspicion was thrown over the study itself; and the cool and
sagacious researches of men, probably better acquainted with
their own language than some of the Brahmins themselves, were
implicated in the fate of the fantastic and, though
profoundly learned, ever injudicious reveries of Wilford.
Now, however, that we may depend on the genuineness of our
documents, it is curious to examine the Indian version or
versions of the universal tradition of the Deluge; for,
besides this extract from the Mahabharata, Sir W. Jones had
extracted from the Bhagavata Purana another, and, in some
respects, very different legend. Both of these versions are
strongly impregnated with the mythological extravagance of
India; but the Purana, one of the Talmudic books of Indian
tradition, as M. Bopp observes, is evidently of a much later
date than the ruder and simpler fable of the old Epic. It
belongs to a less ancient school of poetry, and a less
ancient system of religion. While it is much more exuberant
in its fiction, it nevertheless betrays a sort of
apprehension lest it shall shock the less easy faith of a
more incredulous reader; it is manifestly from the religious
school of the follower of Vishnu, and, indeed, seems to have
some reference to one of the philosophic systems. Yet the
outline of the story is the same. In the Mahabharatic
version, Manu, like Noah, stands alone in an age of universal
depravity. His virtues, however, are of the Indian cast--the
most severe and excruciating penance by which he extorts, as
it were, the favour of the deity[158].
THE DELUGE.
Vivaswata's son, a raja--and a sage of mighty fame,
King of men, the first great fathers--in his glory equalled he,
In his might and kingly power--Manu, and in earthly bliss,
And in wonder-working penance--sire and grandsire far surpassed.
With his arms on high outstretching--wrought the sovereign of men,
Steadily on one foot standing--penance rigorous and dread,
With his downward head low-drooping--with his fixed, unwavering eyes,
Dreed he thus his awful penance--many a long and weary year.
To the penitent with tresses--streaming loose, and wet, and long,
By the margin of Wirini--thus the fish began to speak:
"Blessed! lo, the least of fishes--of the mighty fish in dread,
Wilt thou not from death preserve me--thou that all thy vows fulfill'st?
Since the strongest of the fishes--persecute the weaker still,
Over us impends for ever--our inevitable fate.
Ere I sink, if thou wilt free me--from th' extremity of dread,
Meet return can I compensate--when the holy deed is done."
Speaking thus the fish when heard he--full of pity all his heart,
In his hand that fish king Manu--son of Vivaswata took.
Brought the son of Vivaswata--to the river shore the fish,
Cast it in a crystal vessel--like the moonshine clear and bright.
"Rapid grew that fish, O raja--tended with such duteous care,
Cleaved to him the heart of Manu--as to a beloved son.
Time rolled on, and larger, larger--ever waxed that wonderous fish,
Nor within that crystal vessel--found he longer space to move."
Spake again the fish to Manu--as he saw him, thus he spake:
"O all prosperous! O all gentle!--bring me to another place."
Then the fish from out the vessel--blessed Manu took again;
And with gentle speed he bare him,--Manu, to a spacious lake.
There the conqueror of cities,--mighty Manu, cast him in.
Still he grew, that fish so wondrous--many a circling round of years.
Three miles long that lake expanded--and a single mile its breadth,
Yet that fish with eyes like lotus--there no longer might endure;
Nor, O sovereign of the Vaisyas!--might that lake his bulk contain.
Spake again that fish to Manu--as he saw him, thus he spake:
"Bring me now, O blest and holy!--to the Ganga, ocean's bride,
Let me dwell in her wide waters--yet, O loved one, as thou wilt,
Be it so; whate'er thy bidding,--murmur would beseem me ill,
Since through thee, O blest and blameless!--to this wondrous bulk I've
grown."
Thus addressed, the happy Manu--took again the fish, and bore
To the sacred stream of Ganga--and himself he cast him in.
Still it grew, as time rolled onward--tamer of thy foes! that fish.
Spake again that fish to Manu--as he saw him, thus he spake:
"Mightiest! I can dwell no longer--here in Ganga's narrow stream;
Best of men! once more befriend me--bear me to the ocean swift."
Manu's self from Ganga's water--took again that wondrous fish,
And he brought him to the ocean,--with his own hand cast him in.
Brought by Manu to the ocean--very large that fish appeared,
But not yet of form unmeasured,--spread delicious odours round.
But that fish by kingly Manu--cast into the ocean wide,
In these words again bespake him--and he smiled as thus he spake:
"Blessed! thou hast still preserved me--still my every wish fulfilled,
When the awful time approaches--hear from me what thou must do.
In a little time, O blessed!--all this firm and seated earth,
All that moves upon its surface--shall a deluge sweep away.
Near it comes, of all creation--the ablution day is near;
Therefore what I now forewarn thee--may thy highest weal secure.
All the fixed and all the moving--all that stirs, or stirreth not,
Lo, of all the time approaches--the tremendous time of doom.
Build thyself a ship, O Manu--strong, with cables well prepared,
And thyself, with the seven Sages--mighty Manu enter in.
All the living seeds of all things--by the Brahmins named of yore,
Place thou first within thy vessel--well secured, divided well.
From thy ship keep watch, O hermit--watch for me, as I draw near;
Horned shall I swim before thee--by my horn thou'lt know me well.
This the work thou must accomplish,--I depart; so fare thee well--
Over these tumultuous waters--none without mine aid can sail.
Doubt thou not, O lofty minded!--of my warning speech the truth."
To the fish thus answered Manu--"All that thou requir'st, I'll do."
Thus they parted, of each other--mutual leave when they had ta'en,
Manu, raja! to accomplish--all to him the fish had said.
Taking first the seeds of all things--launched he forth upon the sea;
On the billowy sea, the prudent--in a beauteous vessel rode.
Manu of the fish bethought him;--conscious of his thought the fish,
Conqueror of hostile cities!--with his horn came floating by.
King of men, the born of Manu!--Manu saw the sea-borne fish,
In his form foreshewn, the horned--like a mountain huge and high.
To the fish's head his cable, Manu bound--O king of men!
Strong and firm his cable wound he--round and round on either horn:
And the fish, all conquering raja!--with that twisted cable bound,
With the utmost speed that vessel--dragged along the ocean tide.
In his bark along the ocean--boldly went the king of men:
Dancing with the tumbling billows--dashing through the roaring spray,
Tossed about by winds tumultuous--in the vast and heaving sea,
Like a trembling, drunken woman--reeled that ship, O king of men.
Earth was seen no more, no region--nor the intermediate space;
All around a waste of water--water all, and air and sky.
In the whole world of creation--princely son of Bharata!
None was seen but those seven Sages--Manu only, and the fish.
Years on years, and still unwearied--drew that fish the bark along,
Till at length it came, where lifted--Himavan its loftiest peak.
There at length it came, and smiling--thus the fish addressed the sage:
"To the peak of Himalaya--bind thou now thy stately ship."
At the fish's mandate quickly--to the peak of Himavan
Bound the sage his bark, and ever--to this day that loftiest peak,
Bears the name of Manubandhan--from the binding of the bark.
To the sage, the god of mercy--thus with fixed look bespake:
"I am lord of all creation--Brahma, higher than all height;
I in fishlike form have saved thee--Manu, in the perilous hour;
But from thee new tribes of creatures--gods, asuras, men must spring.
All the worlds must be created--all that moves or moveth not,
By an all-surpassing penance--this great work must be achieved.
Through my mercy, thy creation--to confusion ne'er shall run,"
Spake the fish, and on the instant--to the invisible he passed.
Vivaswata's son, all eager--the creation to begin,
Stood amid his work confounded:--mighty penance wrought he then.
So fulfilled that rigorous penance--instant Manu 'gan create--
Instant every living creature--Raja! he began to form.
Such the old, the famous legend--named the story of the Fish,
Which to thee I have related--this for all our sins atones.
He that hears it, Manu's legend,--in the full possession he,
Of all things complete and perfect--to the heavenly world ascends.
NOTES ON NALA.
[Footnote 1: p. 3. l. 4. _Over, over all exalted_. This repetition is
in the original.]
[Footnote 2: p. 3. l. 5. _Holy deep-read in the Vedas_. All the
perfections, which, according to the opinions and laws of the Hindus,
distinguish the sovereign from the rest of mankind, are here ascribed
to the hero of the poem. The study of the Vedas must be cultivated by
the three superior castes, and ensures both temporal and eternal
beatitude. In the laws of Menu it is said, "Greatness is not conferred
by years, not by grey hairs, not by wealth, not by powerful kindred."
The divine sages have established this rule--Whoever has read the
Vedas and their Angas, he is among us great. (JONES'S MENU, ii. 254).
Of all these duties, answered Bhrigu, the principal is to acquire from
the Upanishads a true knowledge of the one supreme God: that is the
most exalted of all sciences, because it ensures immortality, (xii.
85). For in the knowledge and adoration of one God, which the Veda
teaches, all the rules of good conduct before-mentioned in order, are
fully comprised, (ib. 87.)
The study of the Vedas is considered the peculiar duty of kings, (vii.
43). The Upanishads are doctrinal extracts of the Vedas.
The Indian law demands in the most rigorous manner from every one of
noble birth, the mastery over the _senses_. Menu says, c. ii. 93, "A
man by the attachment of his organs to sensual pleasure, incurs
certain guilt; but having wholly subdued them, he thence attains
heavenly bliss. v. 94. Desire is never satisfied with the enjoyment of
desired objects; as the fire is not appeased with clarified butter; it
only blazes more vehemently. v. 97. To a man contaminated by
sensuality, neither the Vedas, nor liberality, nor sacrifices, nor
strict observances, nor pious austerities, ever procure felicity." The
control over every kind of sensual indulgence is enjoined upon the
king. vii. 44. Day and night must he strenuously exert himself to gain
complete victory over his own organs; since that king alone whose
organs are completely subdued, can keep his people firm to their duty.
Skill in the management of horses and chariots, which in a subsequent
part of the poem is of great importance to Nala, is often mentioned as
a praiseworthy accomplishment of kings. In the Ramayana, for instance,
in the description of king Dasaratha, which likewise contains the
above-mentioned traits of character--"In this city Ayodhya was a king
named Dusharutha, descended from Ikshwaku, perfectly skilled in the
Veda and Vedangas, prescient, of great ability, beloved by all his
people, a great charioteer, constant in sacrifice, eminent in sacred
duties, a royal sage, nearly equalling a Muhurshi, famed throughout
the three worlds, mighty, triumphant over his enemies, observant of
justice, having a perfect command of his appetites." CAREY and
MARSHMAN'S translation, sect. vi. p. 64.]
[Footnote 3: p. 3. l. 5. _--in Nishadha lord of earth_. I have accented
this word not quite correctly Nishadha, in order to harmonise with the
trochaic flow of my metre. It appears to be the same as Nishadha-rashtra
and Nishadha-desa. See Wilford's list of mountains, rivers, countries;
from the Puranas and other books. Asiatic Researches, vol. viii. BOPP.]
[Footnote 4: p. 3. l. 6. _Loving dice, of truth unblemished_. The
Sanscrit word Akshapujah is differently interpreted. Kosegarten
renders it in a good sense as "fearing heaven." He argues that it is
the poet's object in this passage to describe the good qualities of
Nala, and that he does not become a gamester till possessed by the
demon Kali. Bopp gives the sense in the text, which seems to connect
it with the history of king Yudishthira, to whom it is addressed.]
[Footnote 5: p. 3. l. 7. _Sense subdued_. The highest notion of this
favourite perfection of Indian character, may be given in the words of
the author of the Bhagavat-Gita: "The highest perfection to which the
soul can attain, is action without passion. The mind is to be entirely
independent of external objects; to preserve its undisturbed serenity
it should have the conscious power of withdrawing all its senses
within itself, as the tortoise draws all its limbs beneath in shell."
Action is necessary, but action must produce no emotion--no sensation
on the calm spirit within; whatever may be their consequences, however
important, however awful, events are to be unfelt, and almost
unperceived by the impassive mind; and on this principle Arjuna is to
execute the fated slaughter upon his kindred without the least feeling
of sorrow or compunction being permitted to intrude on the divine
apathy of his soul. Some of the images in which this passionless
tranquillity of the spirit is described, appear singularly beautiful:
As to th' unrais'd unswelling ocean flow the multitudinous streams,
So to the soul serene, unmov'd--flow in the undisturbing lusts.
And then again the soul, in this state of unbroken quietude,
Floats like the lotus on the lake, unmov'd, unruffled by the tide.]
[Footnote 6: p. 3. l. 8. _Best, a present Manu he_. Manu, or Menu,
the representative of the human race; the holy, mythological ancestor
of the Hindus. In the Diluvium, the Indian version of the Deluge, (see
the latter part of this volume), Manu is the survivor of the human
race--the second ancestor of mankind. The first Menu is named
"Swayambhuva, or sprung from the self-existing." From him "came six
descendants, other Menus, or perfectly understanding the Scripture,
each giving birth to a race of his own, all exalted in dignity,
eminent in power." Laws of Menu, i. 61. The great code of law "the
Hindus firmly believe to have been promulged in the beginning of time
by Menu, son or grandson of Brahma, or in plain English the first of
created beings, and not the oldest only but the noblest of
legislators." Sir W. JONES'S preface to Laws of Menu; Works, vii. 76.
In the Ramayana, in like manner, king Dasaratha is compared to the
ancient king, Menu. The word Manu, as the name of the ancestor of men,
is derived from the Sanscrit root Man, to know (WILSONin voce); in
the same manner as the Sanscrit Manisha, knowledge, Manushya, Man--as
also the Latin Mens, and the German Mensch. According to this
etymology, Man, Mensch, properly means "the knowing," the Being
endowed with knowledge. The German word, Meinen, to mean, or be of
opinion, belongs to the same stock.]
[Footnote 7: p. 3. l. 9. _So there dwelt in high Vidarbha_. This city
is called by our poet Vidarbha Nagara, the city of Vidarbha, and
Cundina. According to Wilford it is Burra Nag-poor. BOPP. Colebrooke,
Asiatic Researches, remarks, that some suppose it to be the modern
Berar, which borders on the mountain Vindhya or Gondwanah. The kingdom
of Vidarbha, and its capital Kundini, are mentioned in the very
remarkable drama Malati and Madhava. WILSON's Hindu Theatre, ii. 16;
and extract from Harivansa, in LANGLOIS Monumens de l'Inde, p. 54.]
[Footnote 8: p. 3. l. 9. _Bhima, terrible in strength_.
Bhima-parakrama. There is a play upon the words, Bhima meaning
terrible.]
[Footnote 9: p. 3. l. 11. _Many a holy act, on offspring_. He made
offerings and performed penance, by which blessings were forced from
the reluctant gods. In India not only temporal, but eternal happiness,
depends on having children. The son alone by the offering of the
Sraddha, or libation for the dead, can obtain rest for the departed
spirit of the father. Hence the begetting of a son is a religious
duty, particularly for a Brahmin, and is one of the three debts to
which he is bound during life. After he has read the Vedas in the form
prescribed by Law, has legally begotten a son, and has performed
sacrifices to the best of his power, he has paid his three debts, and
may then apply his heart to eternal bliss. MENU, vi. 36. By a son a
man obtains victory over all people; by a son's son he enjoys
immortality; and afterwards, by the son of that grandson, he reaches
the solar abode. MENU, ix. 137.
This last passage is immediately followed by the explanation of the
Sanscrit word Puttra, son, by "the deliverer from hell." Since the son
(trayate) delivers his father from the hell, named put, he was
therefore called puttra by Brahma himself. This explanation, which it
given by the Indian etymologists, appears nevertheless, as is often
the case, rather forced; since the final syllable, tra, which is
translated by deliver (or preserve, WILSON, in voce) is a common
ending of many words, without the peculiar signification of
delivering: as with this final syllable on the word Pu, to be pure, is
formed the noun Puwitra, pure. WILKINS, Grammar, p. 454; KOSEGARTEN.
The affix with which this last is formed however, is not tra, but
itra, and it affords therefore no ground of objection to the usual
etymology of Puttra. WILSON.
The Indian poetry is full of instances of this strong desire for
offspring. In the Ramayana, king Dasaratha performs the Aswamedha, or
offering of a horse, to obtain a son. "To this magnanimous king,
acquainted in every duty, pre-eminent in virtue, and performing sacred
austerities for the sake of obtaining children, there was no son to
perpetuate his family. At length in the anxious mind of this noble one
the thought arose, 'Why do I not perform an Ushwamedha to obtain a
son.'" CAREY and MARSHMAN's translation, sect. viii. p. 74. Compare
the Raghu Vansa, canto i., and all that is done by king Dilipa to
obtain a son: and the poem of the death of Hidimbha, published by
Bopp.]
[Footnote 10: p. 3. l. 14. _--in his hospitable hall_. Hospitality to
a Brahmin is of course one of the greatest virtues. "A Brahmin coming
as a guest, and not received with just honour, takes to himself all
the reward of the housekeeper's former virtue, even though he had been
so temperate as to live on the gleanings of harvests, and so pious as
to make oblations in five distinct fires." Sir W. JONES, Menu, iii.
100.]
[Footnote 11: p. 3. l. 22. _--as around great Indra's queen_. Sachi.
Sachi, soft as morning light,
Blithe Sachi, from her lord Indrani hight.--Sir W. JONES's Hymn to Indra.]
[Footnote 12: p. 4. l. 2. _Mid her handmaids, like the lightning_.
There are two words of similar signification in the original; one of
them implies life-giving. Lightning in India being the forerunner of
the rainy season, is looked on as an object of delight as much as
terror. BOPP, from the Scholiast.]
[Footnote 13: p. 4. l. 2. _--shone she with her faultless form_. Sri,
or Lakshmi, the goddess of beauty and abundance, at once the Ceres and
the Alma Venus of India.
Daughter of ocean and primeval night,
Who fed with moonbeams dropping silent dew,
And cradled in a wild wave dancing light.--Sir W. JONES's Ode to Lacshmi.]
[Footnote 14: p. 4. l. 4. _--never mid the Yaksha race_. The Yakshas
are demigods attendant on Kuvera, the god of wealth, descendants of
Kasyapa by his wife Khasa. They inhabit mountains, and have
intercourse with the Apsarasas, or heavenly nymphs. Sometimes they
appear not altogether as good beings, sometimes entirely harmless.
"The souls of men enslaved to their passions will rise no higher than
the Yakshas." MENU, xii. 47. The subject of the Meghaduta, or
Cloud-Messenger of Kalidasa, so elegantly translated by Mr. Wilson, is
the regret of a Yaksha for his beloved wife. Compare Mr. Wilson's note
on the Yakshas, Cloud Messenger, p. 69.]
[Footnote 15: p. 4. l. 7. _Nala too, 'mong kings the tiger_. Nara
Sardula, the Tiger warrior. I have retained the literal meaning,
though, according to Bopp, it means _in fine compositi, Optimus,
praestantissimus_. Mr. Southey's Young Tlalala, in Madoc, is the "tiger
of the war."]
[Footnote 16: p. 4. l. 8. _Like Kandarpa in his beauty_. Kandarpa is
the god of love. Kama, Love, or Kam Deo, God of Love. Dipaka, the
Inflamer. Manmatha, Heart-disturber. Ananga, the Incorporeal.
God of each lovely sight, each lovely sound.
Soul-kindling, world-inflaming, star y-crowned,
Eternal Cama! or doth Smara bright,
Or proud Ananga give thee more delight--SIR W. JONES, _Ode to Camdeo_.]
[Footnote 17: p. 4. l. 12. _Thus of each, O son of Kunti_. Kunti was
the mother of King Yudishthira, to whom the poem is related. I have
usually omitted this address, which is sometimes made to Yudishthira
under the title of Bharata, i. e. descendant of Bharata, or other
appellations.]
[Footnote 18: p. 4. l. 15. _There the swans he saw disporting_. In
the original this is a far less poetic bird, and the author must crave
forgiveness for having turned his geese into swans. If, however, we
are to believe Bohlen, in his learned work, Das Alte Indien, the
translators are altogether mistaken; they have been misled by the
similarity of the word Hansa to Gans--a goose. The original, he
asserts, to mean a mythic bird, closely resembling the swan, or
perhaps the tall and brilliant flamingo, which Southey has introduced
with such effect in one of his rich descriptions in the Curse of
Kehama. The goose, however, according to the general opinion, is so
common in Indian mythology, that this must be received with much
caution. In the modern Tamulic version of the story, translated by Mr.
Kindersley, are substituted, "Milk white Aunnays, descending from the
skies, like an undulating garland of pearls." The Aunnays are supposed
to be a sort of birds of paradise. They are represented as milk white;
remarkable for the gracefulness of their walk; and endowed with
considerable gifts. Mr. Wilson, in his Meghaduta, has given me a
precedent for the change of geese into swans; see p. 27, v. 71, with
the note. And Mr. Ellis, Asiatic Researches, vol. xiv. p. 29, has the
following note on the subject: "There are three distinctions of Hamsa;
the Raja-hamsa, with a milk-white body and deep red beak and legs,
this is the Phenicopteros, or flamingo; the Mallicacsha-hamsa, with
brownish beak and legs; and the Dhartarashtra-hamsa, with black beak
and legs: the latter is the European swan, the former a variety. The
gait of an elegant woman is compared by the Hindu poets to the proud
bearing of a swan in the water. Sonnerat, making a mistake similar to
that in the text, translates a passage in which this allusion occurs,
in words to the following purport, 'Her gait resembled that of a
goose.' Other writers have fallen into the same error." The swans, ou
Plutot les Genies ailes, play the same part in an extract from the
Harivansa, translated by M. Langlois, in his Monumens Litteraires de
l'Inde, _Paris_, 1827, p. 158. The first part of the Harivansa has
just appeared, under the auspices of the Oriental Translation
Committee.]
[Footnote 19: p. 5. l. 4. _Like the Aswinas in beauty_. See Asiatic
Researches, i. 263; ix. 323. Ramayana, i. 226.]
[Footnote 20: p. 5. l. 7. _Gandharvas_. Celestial choristers, of
beautiful forms and complexion, usually seen in Hindu sculptures
attendant on the deities.
Celestial genii tow'rd their king advance
(So called by men) in heaven Gandharvas named,
For matchless music famed.
Soon when the bands in lucid rows assemble,
Flutes breathe, and citherns tremble.
SIR W. JONES, Ode to Indra.--See Ramayana, l. 125.]
[Footnote 21: p. 5. l. 7. _the Serpents_. The serpents are objects of
reverence and veneration in India. They are called Naga, not going;
Uragas--breast-going. Their residence is in Patala, though they are
occasional visitants both of heaven and earth. See notes to book V. In
the Bhagavat Gita, Arjun sees Brahma "sitting on his lotus-throne; all
the Reshees and Ooragas (serpents)," Wilkins' translation, p. 91.
According to Wilson, (Sanscrit Dict. voce Naga), the race of these
beings is said to have sprung from Kadru, the wife of Kasyapa, in
order to people Patala, or the regions below the earth.]
[Footnote 22: p. 5. l. 7. _The Rakshasas_. Demons who assume at will
the forms of lions, tigers, horses, and other animals, as well as the
human shape, with numerous heads and arms. They are represented as
cannibals who devour their enemies. See Ramayana.]
[Footnote 23: p. 6. l. 6. _--and with passion heart-possessed_. It
is, literally, her mind (or thought), being possessed by the
_heart-sleeper_, (i. e. love, reposing or dwelling in the heart).
WILSON.]
[Footnote 24: p. 6. l. 8. _The Swayembara_. The self-election. The
princesses in India enjoyed this singular privilege. The festival was
proclaimed, and from the assembled suitors the lady selected her
future husband. The Swayembara is not among the eight kinds of
marriages mentioned in the third book of Menu, as customary among the
higher castes, in which the parents in general arrange such contracts.
The provision in the ninth book (v. 90), appears to belong to the
lower classes.--"Three years let a damsel wait, though she be
marriageable; but after that term let her choose for herself a
bridegroom of equal rank." In the Raghuvansa, a poem, parts of which
the author of this translation, if he could command leisure to make
himself better acquainted with Sanscrit, would consider well worthy of
being introduced to the English reader, there is a very remarkable and
beautiful book, describing a Swayembara. This is likewise held at
Vidarbha by the daughter of the king. The Mahabharata also describes
the Swayembara of the princess Draupadi.]
[Footnote 25: p. 6. l. 17. _The lord of many peasants_. Vaisya, the
third caste, husbandmen and traders.]
[Footnote 26: p. 6. l. 22. _All with rich and various garlands_. The
use of garlands in the decoration of the houses and temples of the
Hindus, and of flowers in their offerings and festivals, furnishes
employment to a particular tribe or caste, the malacaras, or wreath
makers. WILSON, note 57, on Meghaduta or Cloud-messenger.]
[Footnote 27: p. 7. l. 2. _Indra's world_. Indra is the God of
heaven, of the thunder and lightning, storm and rain: his dwelling is
sometimes placed on mount Meru, as the heaven of the Greeks on
Olympus. His city is called Amaravati; his palace Vaijayanti; his
garden Nandana. (KOSEGARTEN.)
Hail, mountain of delight,
Palace of glory, bless'd by glory's king.
With prospering shade embower me, whilst I sing
Thy wonders yet unreached by mortal flight.
Sky-piercing mountain! in thy bowers of love,
No tears are seen, save where medicinal stalks
Weep drops balsamic o'er the silvered walks.
No plaints are heard, save where the restless dove
Of coy repulse, and mild reluctance talks.
Mantled in woven gold, with gems inchas'd,
With emerald hillocks graced,
From whose fresh laps, in young fantastic mazes,
Soft crystal bounds and blazes,
Bathing the lithe convolvulus that winds
Obsequious, and each flaunting arbour binds.--SIR W. JONES, Ode to Indra.]
[Footnote 28: p. 7. l. 3. _Narada and Parvata_. Two of the divine
Munis or Rishis. Narada is the son of Brahma; a friend of Krishna, a
celebrated lawgiver, and inventor of the vina, or lute. (WILSON, Dict.
in voce.) Narada is mentioned as one of the "ten lords of created
beings, eminent in holiness." MENU, i. 34, 35.]
[Footnote 29: p. 7. l. 5. _Them salutes the cloud-compeller_.
'Maghavan' is by some explained 'the cloudy.' I have adopted the word
used by the translators of Homer.]
[Footnote 30: p. 7. l. 12. _Theirs this everlasting kingdom_.
Kshetriyas, or warriors, slain in battle, are transported to Swerga,
the heaven of Indra, by the Apsarasas or nymphs of heaven: hence they
are his "ever-honoured guests." "Those rulers of the earth, who,
desirous of defeating each other, exert their utmost strength in
battle, without ever averting their faces, ascend after death directly
to heaven." MENU, vii. 89. Indra means to say, "Why are none
new-killed in battle now-a-days, that I see none arriving in my
heaven, Swerga?"]
[Footnote 31: p. 7. l. 12. _--even as Kamadhuk is mine_. Kamadhuk,
the cow of plenty. She was brought forth on churning the ocean to
produce the amrita, or drink of immortality. The interpretation is
doubtful; it may be that this realm is to them the cow of plenty, (as
bestowing upon them all their wishes), as the cow of plenty is mine.
See BOPP's and KOSEGARTEN's notes.]
[Footnote 32: p. 7. l. 15. _Thus addressed by holy Sakra_. Sakra, a
name of Indra.
Hail, Dyapeter, dismay to Bala's pride,
Or speaks Purander best thy martial fame,
Or Sacra, mystic name.--SIR W. JONES, Hymn to Indra.
Bala and Vritra were the "giants" slain by Indra.]
[Footnote 33: p. 7. l. 23. _As they spake, the world-protectors_. The
world-protectors are the eight gods next below the trine supreme,
Brahma, Siva, and Vishnu. They are Indra, the god of heaven; Surya,
the god of the sun; Soma or Chandra, the god of the moon; Agni, the
god of fire; Pavana, the god of the wind; Kuvera, the god of wealth;
Varuna, the god of water; Yama, the god of the infernal regions. At
present four only of these gods are introduced; Indra, Yama, Agni, and
Varuna. Compare, however, Mr. WILSON's note to Vikrama and Urvasi,
Hindu Theatre, i. 219.]
[Footnote 34: p. 8. l. 8. _--equal to the god of love_. Manmatha, a
name of Kandarpa, or Camdeo, the god of love.]
[Footnote 35: p. 11. l. 2. _Pledge me to thy faith, O raja_. Bopp has
rendered '_pranayaswa_,' _uxorem duc_, but this is questionable. The
root '_ni_,' with the preposition '_pari_,' has that sense, but with
'_pra_' its usual acceptation is 'to love, to bear affection.' I have
not met with it in the sense 'to marry.' Bopp is followed by Rosen in
assigning this sense to '_prani_.' WILSON.]
[Footnote 36: p. 7. l. 4. _In full trust is thine_. Bopp connects
'_visrabdha_' with '_pranaya_,' and renders them _speratas nuptias_. I
should rather join it adverbially with '_sarvam_, all;' that is,
'yours in full trust or confidence: grant me your affection.' There is
something indelicate, though inartificial, in Damayanti's urging
matrimony so earnestly. WILSON.]
[Footnote 37: p. 11. l. 8. _--the vile noose will I endure_. Hanging
was not considered by the Hindus an undignified mode of
self-destruction. See Hindu Theatre, ii. 237 and 299.]
[Footnote 38: p. 11. l. 17. _He, who all the world compressing_. Nala
here recites the separate pretensions and attributes of the great
deities, first, of Hutasa, a name of Agni, the god of fire. The sense
here is extremely obscure. Bopp renders it literally. 'Qui hanc terram
totam contraxit,' seems ambiguous. It may refer to the agency of fire
in compacting the world and again consuming it, or simply shrivelling
it up, while in the act of consuming.]
[Footnote 39: p. 11. l. 19. _He, in awe of whose dread sceptre_.
Yama: he is called the Dharma raja, king of justice. WILFORD in
Asiatic Researches. Compare SOUTHEY's description in the Curse of
Kehama, Canto xxii., with the note from Wilford on which it is
founded; and his interview with Sawitri in BOPP's collection of
Extracts from the Mahabharata.]
[Footnote 40: p. 11. l. 21. _--slayer of the infernal host_. Indra.
He was the conqueror of the Danavas or daemons:
When through the waves of war thy charger sprang,
Each rock rebellowed, and each forest rang,
The vanquish'd Asurs felt avenging pains.--SIR W. JONES, Ode to Indra.]
[Footnote 41: p. 11. l. 23. _--in thy mind if thou couldst choose_.
(At the close full stop misprinted for comma). Varuna, the god of
waters. Schlegel and Rosen consider that a sloka, describing the
attributes of Varuna, has been lost--that in this line 'varanam,
seligendum' should be written instead of 'Varunam.' The Calcutta
edition has the same reading, however, and the change is not
necessary: if any alteration be made it should probably be in the
first word, and 'Vriyatam' be read in place of 'Kriyatam.' WILSON.]
[Footnote 42: p. 14. l. 1. _Came the day of happy omen_. The Indians,
like all other Asiatic nations, have their fortunate and unfortunate
days. The month is divided into thirty lunar days (tithis), which are
personified as nymphs. See the Dissertation on the lunar year by Sir
W. JONES, Asiatic Researches, iii. 257. In the Laws of Menu are
multifarious directions concerning the day of the moon fit or unfit
for particular actions. "The dark lunar day destroys the spiritual
teacher; the fourteenth destroys the learner; the eighth and the day
of the full moon destroy all remembrance of Scripture; for which
reason he must avoid reading on those lunar days."]
[Footnote 43: p. 14. l. 5. _They, the court with golden columns,
etc._ The literal rendering is, 'they entered the hall (the stage, or
place of exhibition, a spacious court or quadrangle) splendid with
columns of gold, and brilliant with a portal; a temporary or triumphal
arch (torana).' There is allusion to such a porch or portal in the
Mudra Rakshasa (Hindu Theatre, ii. 181, 182), also in the Toy Cart,
(i. 82). For gold pillars see CRAWFURD's description of the Hall of
Audience at Ava.
"The roof is supported by a great number of pillars: with the
exception of about fourteen or fifteen inches at the bottom of each
pillar, painted of a bright red, the whole interior of the palace is
one blaze of gilding--although little reconcilable to our notions of
good taste in architecture, the building is unquestionably most
splendid and brilliant, and I doubt whether so singular and imposing a
royal edifice exists in any other country." _Embassy to Ava_, 133.
WILSON.]
[Footnote 44: p. 14. l. 10. _--delicate in shape and hue_. Bopp's
text is 'akaravantah suslakshnah, having forms and delicate.' The
Calcutta edition reads 'akaraverna suslakshnah, elegant in figure and
colour (complexion). Delicacy of colour, i. e. a lighter shade,
scarcely amounting to blackness at all, is in general a mark of high
caste. WILSON.]
[Footnote 45: p. 14. l. 13. _As with serpents Bhogavati._ Bhogavati,
the capital of the serpents in the infernal world. In the Ramayana,
Ayodhya is described as guarded by warriors, as Bhogavati by the
serpents.]
[Footnote 46: p. 15. l. 22. _Nala's form might not discern._ The form
of the gods, as it is here strikingly described by the poet, differs
from that of men by the absence of those defects which constitute the
inferiority of a mortal body to that of the inhabitants of the Indian
heaven. The immortal body does not perspire, it is unsoiled by dust,
the garlands which they wear stand erect, that is, the flowers are
still blooming and fresh. The gods are further distinguished by their
strong fixed gaze, and by floating on the earth without touching it.
They have no shadow. Nala's form is the opposite of all these.
KOSEGARTEN.]
[Footnote 47: p. 15. l. 23. _--saw she, and with moveless eyes_. "The
gods are supposed to be exempt from the momentary elevation and
depression of the upper eyelid, to which mortals are subject. Hence a
deity is called 'Animisha' or 'Animesha,' one whose eyes do not
twinkle." Mr. Wilson, in his note to Vikrama and Urvasi, (Hindu Theatre,
i. 237. p. 60.), quotes this passage, and suggests that the "marble eyes
of Venus, by which Helen knew the goddess, and which the commentators
and translators seem to be much perplexed with, are probably the
'stabdha lochana,' the fixed eyes of the Hindus, full and unveiled for
an instant, like the eyes of a marble statue." Mr. Wilson has, I think,
been misled by the words [Greek: hommata marmaironta], which rather
expresses the contrary. [Greek: Marmairo] is to glitter, and is applied
in many places in Homer to the gleaming of armour. The [Greek:
marmarigas theeito podon] of the Odyssey is well translated by Gray,
"glance their many-twinkling feet." In Mr. Wilson's curious reference to
Heliodorus (the passage is in the AEthiopica, iii. 13.) the author
appears to write from Egyptian rather than Grecian notions. He extorts,
somewhat violently, a meaning from Homer's words, [Greek: deino de ei
esse phaanthen], which they by no means necessarily bear; but the
analogy is as curious if Egyptian as if Grecian.]
[Footnote 48: p. 15. l. 25. _On his shadow, garland drooping_. According
to the Zoroastrian religion, one of the distinctions of human beings
after the restoration of all things and the final triumph of Ormuzd,
shall be that they shall cast no shadow; [Greek: mete skian paiountas].
THEOPOMP. apud Plut. de Isid. et Osirid. Compare ANQUETIL DU PERRON and
KLEUKER, Anhang zum Zendavesta, i. 140.]
[Footnote 49: p. 16. l. 14. _And the happy pair devoutly_. The
devotion of the silent spirit, the purely mental worship, is the
holiest and most acceptable service to the gods. Compare WILKINS,
Bhagavat-Gita, p. 74; MENU, ii. 85; vi. 235.]
[Footnote 50: p. 16. l. 19. _Agni gave his own bright presence_. Agni
gave him the command of fire whenever he willed. Hutasa is a name of
Agni; hut-asa, 'qui sacrificium edit,' i. e. ignis. Bopp's
explanation, 'mundos per Deum Agnem splendentes,' has been adopted as
giving the clearest sense. Varuna gave the command of water.]
[Footnote 51: p. 16. l. 23. _--each his double blessing gave_. Bopp
translates this, 'par liberorum dederunt,' but the original says, 'all
(or each) gave a pair,' i. e. a couple of blessings; making eight, as
stated above; each of the four gods giving two. WILSON.]
[Footnote 52: p. 17. l. 4. _Lived in bliss, as with his Sachi_.
Indra, the giant-killer; Sachi, his spouse.]
[Footnote 53: p. 17. l. 7. _Of the horse the famous offering_. The
reader will be best acquainted with the Aswamedha, or sacrifice of the
horse, from the spirit and felicity with which it has been introduced
by Southey in the Curse of Kehama. See also the Ramayana.]
[Footnote 54: p. 18. l. 2. _As they parted thence, with Kali_.
Dwapara and Kali are the names of the third and fourth ages of the
world. The latter is here personified as a male deity.]
[Footnote 55: p. 18. l. 17. _--the Puranas too the fifth_. In the
original 'Akhyana, history, legend.' The four Vedas are the Rig-veda,
the Yajur Veda, the Sama Veda, and the Atharvana. Akhyana is, as it
were, tradition superadded to scripture.]
[Footnote 56: p. 20. l. 5. _Nala in the dusky twilight, etc._ This is
rather an unmanageable passage; but the Latin translation has not
rendered its purport correctly. 'Upaspris' can in no case mean
'calcare:' it implies touching, and especially touching or sipping
water, as part of the ceremony of purification. As Menu; "Let each man
sprinkle the cavities of his body, and taste water in due form, etc."
In the text of this passage, 'upaspris' is used for touching or
sprinkling. In others, it is used in the sense of ablution, bathing.
In the lexicons it is explained 'upasparsa sparsamatre,
snanachamanay-orapi, touch in general, ablution, sipping water.' In
the Mitakshara, on the subject of personal purification, the direction
is, after evacuations, 'Dwijo nityam upaspriset, Let the man of two
births always perform the upaspersa,' i. e. says the commentator,
'achamet, let him sip water.' The sense of the passage of the text is,
'that Nala sat down to evening prayer; (as Menu directs, he who
repeats it sitting at evening twilight, etc.,) after performing his
purifications, and sipping water, but without having washed his feet,
such ablution being necessary not because they had been soiled, but
because such an act is also part of the rite of purification. As the
Mitakshara, 'etasmat pada prakshalana prapti, after that
purification, comes the washing of the feet,' especially prior to any
religious act. So Colebrooke: "Having washed his hands and feet, and
having sipped water, the priest sits down to worship." A. R. v. 363.
WILSON.]
[Footnote 57: p. 20. l. 12. _In the dice of dice embodied_. 'Sicut
taurus boum:' the literal translation of the phrase is explained by
the commentator Nilakantha, as 'talus inter talos eximius.' I have
adopted Schlegel's reading, which substitutes Dwapara for Kali, as
possessing the dice.]
[Footnote 58: p. 20. l. 23. _Then the charioteer advancing_. The
charioteer appears as one of the great officers of state: the master
of the horse would convey as lofty a meaning to an English ear.]
[Footnote 59: p. 21. l. 1. _Ill they brook this dire misfortune_.
Vyasana is a misfortune in a king: neglect of his duty for the
pleasures of the chase, gambling, etc.]
[Footnote 60: p. 22. l. 1. _Punyasloka, king of men_. Punyasloka is a
title applied to other kings celebrated in Hindu poetry, to
Yudishthira, and also to Vishnu: it means, celebrated in sacred poems.
WILSON, Dict. in voce.]
[Footnote 61: p. 23. l. 13. _--to Cundina's city go_. Cundina is the
capital of the kingdom of Vidarbha.]
[Footnote 62: p. 23. l. 23. _Thence departing, to Ayodhya_. Ayodhya,
or Oude, is famous in all the early poetry of India. "On the banks of
the Suruyoo is a large country called Koshula, gay and happy, and
abounding with cattle, corn, and wealth. In that country was a famous
city called Ayodhya, built formerly by Munoo, the lord of men. A great
city, twelve yojanas in extent, the houses of which stood in triple
and long-extended rows. It was rich, and perpetually adorned with new
improvements; the streets and valleys were admirably disposed, and the
principal streets well watered. It was filled with merchants of
various descriptions, and adorned with abundance of jewels; difficult
of access, filled with spacious houses, beautified with gardens, and
groves of mango trees, surrounded by a deep and impassable moat, and
completely furnished with arms; was ornamented with stately gates and
porticoes, and constantly guarded by archers, etc. etc." Ramayana,
translated by CAREY and MARSHMAN, vol. i. p. 60.]
[Footnote 63: p. 25. l. 16. _--to the region of the south_.
Dakshinaptha signifies properly the land on the right hand; as in the
Semitic language the south is that which is on the right hand. It
means here the land to the south of the Nerbudda. Dakshinapatha is
very probably meant in the word used by Arrian, Dachinabades.
KOSEGARTEN.]
[Footnote 64: p. 25. l. 17. _Passing by Avanti's city_. Avanti, which
Bopp makes a mountain, according to Kosegarten and Mr. Wilson is a
city, Oujein. Bopp draws a somewhat fanciful analogy between Avanti
and the Aventine at Rome. He refers also to Himavan, qu. Mavanten,
'montem.' The philological student will do well to consult this note
of Bopp. In the Meghaduta, Oujein is Aventi:
Behold the city, whose immortal fame,
Glows in Avanti's or Visala's name. line 193.
The synonyms of Oujein are thus enumerated by Hemachandra: Ujjayini,
Visala, Avanti, and Pashparavandini. Rikshavan, i. e. bear-having, the
mount of bears, is part of the Vindhya chain, separating Malwa from
Kandesh and Berar. WILSON.]
[Footnote 65: p. 25. l. 18. _Vindhya here, the mighty mountain_. See
note to 'Cloud-Messenger,' page 92 to 94. Compare likewise Asiatic
Researches, i. p. 380, where, in one of the famous inscriptions on the
staff of Feroz Shah, it is named as one of the boundaries of
Aryaverta, the land of virtue, or India. It is named also in the
curious Indian grant of land found at Tanna. Asiatic Researches, i.
366.]
[Footnote 66: p. 25. l. 18. _--and Payoshni's seaward stream_.
Payoshni, a river that flows from the Vindhya, mentioned in the
Brahmanda Purana. Asiatic Researches, viii. 341.]
[Footnote 67: p. 25. l. 20. _--this to Cosala away_. Cosala, a city
of Ayodhya, or Oude. Cosala is mentioned in the Brahmanda Purana as
beyond the Vindhya mountains. Asiatic Researches, viii. 343.]
[Footnote 68: p. 27. l. 7. _Both together by one garment_. The poet
supposes that Damayanti had bestowed half her single garment upon
Nala. BOPP. This, however, does not appear to be the case.]
[Footnote 69: p. 28. l. 4. _From her virtue none dare harm her_.
Spenser's Una, and still more the lady in Comus, will recur to the
remembrance of the English reader. See Quarterly Review, vol. xlv. p.
20.]
[Footnote 70: p. 28. l. 24. _--may the genii of the woods_. He calls
on the Adityas, Vasavas, and Rudras, the Aswinas, the Maruts. This is
the literal version. They are different orders of genii, each
consisting of a definite number. The Adityas are twelve, and preside
over the different months. They are called the children of Kasyapa and
of Aditi his wife. According to Mr. Wilkins (notes to the
Bhagavat-Gita, p. 144), they are no more than emblems of the sun for
each month in the year. Mr. Wilkins gives their names:
The Vasavas, or Vasus, are eight. Indra is the first. They are the
guardians of the world, and apparently the same with the eight gods
mentioned in the early part of the poem.
The Rudras are eleven; according to some the eleven personifications
of Siva, who bears the name of Rudra. Bhagavat-Gita, p. 85. note 144.
"The lord of creation meditated profoundly on the earth, and created
the gods, the Vasus, Rudras, and Adityas." COLEBROOKE, in Asiatic
Researches, viii. 453.
For the Aswinas see former note.
The Maruts are forty-nine: they preside over the winds (MENU, iii.
88.) The chief god of the wind, Pavana, is called Marut. Their origin
is described in the Ramayana, i. 420. See also the Hindu Pantheon, p.
92.]
[Footnote 71: p. 30. l. 14. _Hence one moment, thus deserted_. Conjugal duty is
carried to a great height in the laws of Menu: "Though unobservant of
approved usages, or enamoured of another woman, or devoid of good
qualities, yet a husband must constantly be revered as a god by a
virtuous wife." v. 154.]
[Footnote 72: p. 31. l. 11. _--in the satyr-haunted wood_. Swapada, dog-footed:
the dog is an unclean animal in India. As the goat-footed, the
'capripedes satyri' in Greece, I have thought the satyr not so
exclusively Greek but that it might be used for any "wild man of the
woods." The word is also derived from 'swan, a dog,' and 'apad, to
resemble,' and is explained by Mr. Wilson, ferocious, savage.]
[Footnote 73: p. 32. l. 21. _--uttered loud her curse of wrath_. The power of a
curse, according to Indian belief, will be best illustrated to the
reader of English poetry by "the Curse of Kehama." In the "Death of
Yajnadatta," included in this volume, we find the effects of a
Brahmin's curse described.]
[Footnote 74: p. 33. l. 5. _Trees of every form and stature_. I have omitted a
long list of trees, the names of which, conveying no notion to an
English ear, and wanting the characteristic epithets of Ovid's or of
Spenser's well-known and picturesque forest description, would only
perplex the reader with several lines of unintelligible words. To the
Indian ear these names, pregnant with pleasing associations, and
descriptive in their etymological meaning, would no doubt convey the
same delight as those of the Latin or English poet.]
[Footnote 75: p. 33. l. 9. _--serpents, elves, and giants saw_. Kosegarten has
translated this word 'elves:' they are a kind of evil spirit. In Menu,
ii. 96, they are named with the Yakshas and Rakshasas as partaking of
unclean food.]
[Footnote 76: p. 35. l. 22. _All the trees of richest foliage_. A general
description has again been substituted in these two lines for the
names of various trees.]
[Footnote 77: p. 36. l. 4. _--of the regal sacrifice_. The king's offering. See
COLEBROOKE, in Asiatic Researches, viii. 430.]
[Footnote 78: p. 36. l. 15. _--soma quaffing, fire adoring_. Soma, the juice of
the Asclepias acida, the moon plant. Drinking the expressed juice of
this plant is a holy ceremony, used at the completion of a sacrifice,
and sanctifies the drinker. "He alone is worthy to drink the juice of
the moon plant who keep a provision of grain sufficient to supply
those whom the law commands him to nourish, for the term of three
years or more. But a twice-born man, who keeps a less provision of
grain, yet presumes to taste the juice of the moon plant, shall gather
no fruit from that sacrament, even though he taste it at the first or
solemn, or much less at any occasional ceremony." MENU, iii. 197. All
the ancestors of the Brahmins are 'Soma-pas, moon-plant drinkers.']
[Footnote 79: p. 36. l. 15. _--fire adoring_. Watching or maintaining the
sacred fire is another duty: it peculiarly belongs to priests and
hermits. The latter may watch the fire mentally: "Then having
reposited his holy fires, as the law directs, in his mind, let him
live without external fire, without a mansion, wholly silent, feeding
on roots and fruit." MENU, vi. 25.]
[Footnote 80: p. 37. l. 2. _--sweet as the amrita draught_. For the amrita, the
drink of immortality, see Curse of Kehama, the extract from the
Mahabharata quoted by Mr. Wilkins in his notes to the Bhagavat-Gita,
and Ramayana, I. 410.]
[Footnote 81: p. 37. l. 10. _To the ancient famous hermits_. These famous
hermits, whose names I have omitted, were Bhrigu, Atri, and Vasishta.]
[Footnote 82: p. 37. l. 11. _Self-denying, strict in diet_. The sixth book of
Menu is filled with instructions to those who are engaged in 'tapasa:'
it is entitled, "On Devotion." "When the father of a family perceives
his muscles become flaccid, and his hair gray, and sees the child of
his child, let him then seek refuge in a forest. Abandoning all food
eaten in towns, and all his household utensils, let him repair to the
lonely wood, committing the care of his wife to her sons, or
accompanied by her, if she choose to attend him. Let him take up his
consecrated fire, and all his domestic implements of making oblations
to it, and departing from the town to the forest, let him dwell in it
with complete power over his organs of sense and of action. With many
sorts of pure food, such as holy sages used to eat, with green herbs,
roots, and fruit, let him perform the five great sacraments before
mentioned, introducing them with due ceremonies. Let him wear a black
antelope's hide, or a vesture of bark; let him suffer the hairs of his
head, his beard, and his nails, to grow continually." MENU, vi. 2. et
seqq.]
[Footnote 83: p. 37. l. 18. _pulchris femoribus_. Clausulam hanc prudens omisi.]
[Footnote 84: p. 37. l. 25. _Take thy seat, they said, oh lady_. The
hospitality of the hermits to Damayanti is strictly according to law.
"With presents of water, roots, and fruit, let him honour those who
visit his hermitage."]
[Footnote 85: p. 37. l. 27. _In your sacred fires, your worship._ "Let him, as
the law directs, make oblations on the hearth with three sacred
fires." MENU, vi. 9. Compare iv. 25.]
[Footnote 86: p. 37. l. 27. _--blameless, with your beasts and birds._ Hermits
were to have "a tender affection for all animated bodies," MENU, vi.
8.]
[Footnote 87: p. 38. l. 12. _--twice-born Sages, know ye me_. The three first
castes are "twice-born." The first birth is from the natural mother;
the second from the ligation of the zone; the third from the due
performance of the sacrifice: such are the births of him who is
usually called twice-born, according to the text of the Veda: among
them his divine birth is that which is distinguished by the ligation
of the zone and sacrificial cord, and in that birth the Gayatri is his
mother, and the Acharya his father. MENU, ii. 169.]
[Footnote 88: p. 39. l. 15. _Through devotion now we see him_. The kind of
prophetic trance, in which holy men, abstracted from all earthly
thoughts, were enwrapt, enabled them to see things future.]
[Footnote 89: p. 40. l. 6. _Best of trees, the Asoca blooming_. The Asoca is a
shrub consecrated to Mahadeva; men and women of all classes ought to
bathe, on a particular day, in some holy stream, especially the
Brahma-putra, and drink water with the buds of the Asoca floating in
it. This shrub is planted near the temples of Siva, and grows
abundantly on Ceylon. Sita is said to have been confined in a grove of
it, while in captivity by Ravana; other relators say that she was
confined in a place or house called Asocavan. The Asoca is a plant of
the first order of the eighth class, of leguminous fructification, and
bears flowers of exquisite beauty. Van Rheede (Hortus Malab. vol. v.
tab. 59.) calls it Asjogam. See Asiatic Researches, iii. 254, 277.
MOOR, Hindu Pantheon, 55.]
[Footnote 90: p. 40. l. 17. _Truly be thou named Asoca_. Asoca, from
_a_, privative, and _soka_, grief: a play of words, as when Helen, in
Euripides, is called '[Greek: 'Elenas], the destroyer of ships.' Many
other instances will occur to the classical reader. In Malati and
Madhava, the forlorn lover in turn addresses different objects of
nature, the clouds, the birds, and the elephants, to inform him whether
they have seen his lost mistress. ACT ix. See, however, Mr. WILSON's
note, who seems to think that he addresses the sylvan deities.]
[Footnote 91: p. 42. l. 8. _--Manibhadra, guard us well_. Manibhadra, the
tutelar deity of travellers and merchants: probably a name of Kuvera,
the god of wealth.]
[Footnote 92: p. 42. l. 11. _To the realm of Chedi's sovereign_. Chedi is the
name of the country now called Chandail. The country is perpetually
named in the marriage of Roukmini, extracted from the Harivansa by
Mons. LANGLOIS, Monumens de l'Inde, p. 96.]
[Footnote 93: p. 43. Compare the Raghuvansa, ch. v. 43 to 49.]
[Footnote 94: p. 43. l. 12.
--_lo, a herd of elephants,
Oozing moisture from their temples_--
Where the wild elephant delights to shed
The juice exuding fragrant from his head
WILSON's Cloud-Messenger, p. 127, and note.]
[Footnote 95: p. 44. l. 7. _--the three worlds seemed all appalled_. Swerga,
heaven, Martya or Bhumi, the earth, and Patala, hell.]
[Footnote 96: p. 44. l. 21. _And Vaisravana the holy_. Vaisravana is another
name of Kuvera, the god of wealth.]
[Footnote 97: p. 45. l. 13. _In some former life committed_. The soul, in its
transmigration, expiates the sins committed in a former state of
being. This necessary corollary from the doctrine of the
metempsychosis appear to have prevailed among the pharisaic Jews in
the time of our Saviour: "Master, who did sin, this man or his
parents, that he was born blind." JOHN, ix. 2.]
[Footnote 98: p. 46. l. 15. _--in their curious gamesome play_. Kutuhalat,
rendered by Bopp 'cum voluptate,' means, 'from curiosity.' WILSON.]
[Footnote 99: p. 47. l. 13. _I with but one robe, him naked_. Bopp's text is
incorrect here. Instead of 'Tam. ekavasanam,' the accusative
masculine, it should be 'Tam. ekavasana, I with one garment clad,' the
nominative feminine, referring to Damayanti, not to Nala: "I with one
garment following him naked and deprived of reason, like one crazed,
had not slept for many nights." WILSON.]
[Footnote 100: p. 47. l. 28. _That I eat not broken victuals_. Among the kinds
of food proscribed to a Brahmin are, "the food of a servile man and
the orts of another."]
[Footnote 101: p. 47. l. 28. _--wash not feet with menial hand_. The Latin
translation, 'ne faciam pedibus cursum,' is faulty: the sense is,
"that I perform not washing of the feet." Damayanti means that she is
not to perform menial offices appropriated to persons of low caste.
Stipulating for a carriage would be rather extraordinary. WILSON.]
[Footnote 102: p. 49. l. 9. _Narada, the famous hermit_. One of the Devarshis,
and a great prophet, who is supposed to be still wandering about the
world. 'Nara' signifies a thread or clew, a precept, and 'da,' giver.
Whenever he appears he is constantly employed in giving good counsel.
WILKINS, note on Bhagavat-Gita.]
[Footnote 103: p. 49. l. 23. _Ere the tenth step he had counted--him the sudden
serpent bit_. 'Dasa' means both 'bite' and 'ten.']
[Footnote 104: p. 50. l. 12. _Neither Brahmin fear, nor Sages_. In Indian
poetry four classes of holy men, or Rishis, are distinguished, and
rise, one above the other, in the following rank: Rajarshis, royal
Rishis; Maharshis, great Rishis; Brahmarshis, Brahminical Rishis; and
Dewarshis, divine Rishis. KOSEGARTEN. Another enumeration specifies
seven grades. WILSON, in voce.]
[Footnote 105: p. 50. l. 26. _Saying thus, of vests celestial--gave he to the
king a pair_. The dress of a Hindu consists of two pieces of cloth,
one, the lower garment fastened round his waist, and one the upper
garment thrown loosely and gracefully over the shoulders. WILSON.]
[Footnote 106: p. 51. l. 6. _In the art of dressing viands_. This, it will be
remembered, was one of the gifts bestowed by the gods on Nala at his
marriage.]
[Footnote 107: p. 51. l. 12. _--hundred hundreds is thy pay_. Suvarnas, a
certain measure of gold. WILSON, Dict. in voce.]
[Footnote 108: p. 52. l. 2. There is in the text a second line, repeating the
same sentiment. Bopp proposes to reject the first, I have omitted the
second.]
[Footnote 109: p. 53. l. 7. _And a royal grant for maintenance_. See Bopp's
note. I have adopted the second sense of the word Agraharah. Such
grants were not uncommon in India, as throughout the east. See the
grants on copper-plates found near Bombay, Asiatic Researches, i. 362.
So the well-known gifts of the king of Persia to Themistocles.]
[Footnote 110: p. 53. l. 15. _--on a royal holiday_. A day proclaimed as
fortunate by the king.]
[Footnote 111: p. 54. l. 1. _--like Manmatha's queen divine_. The bride of
Kamadeva is Rati, pleasure.]
[Footnote 112: p. 54. ls. 4--10. This long train of similes, in which the images
of the lotus flower and the moon so perpetually occur, is too
characteristic to be omitted or compressed. I have here and there used
the license of a paraphrase.]
[Footnote 113: p. 54. l. 5. _Like the pallid night, when Rahu_. This is a
favourite simile of the Indian poets.
That snatched my love from the uplifted sword,
Like the pale moon from Rahu's ravenous jaws.
WILSON'S Malati and Madhava, p. 62.
-------------and now thou fall'st, a prey
To death, like the full moon to Rahu's jaws
Consigned.
Ibid. p. 115.
In Indian mythology, eclipses are caused by the dragon Rahu attempting
to swallow up the moon. The origin of their hostility is given in a
passage quoted by Mr. Wilkins from the Mahabharata, in his notes to
the Bhagavat-Gita:--"And so it fell out that when the Soors were
quenching their thirst for immortality, Rahu, an Asoor, assumed the
form of a Soor, and begun to drink also; and the water had but reached
his throat, when the sun and moon, in friendship to the Soors,
discovered the deceit, and instantly Narayan cut off his head as he
was drinking, with his splendid weapon, chakra. And the gigantic head
of the Asoor, emblem of a monstrous summit, being thus separated from
his body by the chakra's edge, bounded into the heavens with a
dreadful cry, whilst the ponderous trunk fell, cleaving the ground
asunder, and shaking the whole earth unto its foundations, with all
its islands, rocks, and forest. And from this time the head of Rahu
resolved on eternal enmity, and continueth even unto this day at times
to seize upon the sun and moon." p. 149.]
[Footnote 114: p. 54. l. 15. _To the unadorned a husband._ "Married women must
be honoured and adorned by their fathers and brethren, by their
husbands, and by the brethren of their husbands, if they seek abundant
prosperity." MENU, iii, 55.]
[Footnote 115: p. 54. l. 22.--_the moon's bride_. Rohinia. The moon, as
in the northern mythologies, is a male deity. See WILFORD, in Asiatic
Researches, iii, 384. Rohinia is explained by Mr. Wilson, the fourth
lunar asterism, figured by a wheeled carriage, and containing five
stars, probably [Greek: a b g d e], Tauri. In mythology the asterism is
personified as one of the daughters of Daksha, and wives of the
moon.--Sanscrit Dict. in voce. Comp. Vikrama and Urvasi, p. 57.]
[Footnote 116: p. 57. _Dasarna_. Dasarna is mentioned in the Cloud Messenger of
Kalidasa.
Dasarna's fields await the coming shower.
See likewise Mr. Wilson's note, p. 37.]
[Footnote 117: p. 59. l. 2. _By the wind within the forest--fanned, intensely
burns the fire._ Kosegarten supposes this to mean, that as the
incessant wind kindles the fire in the grove of bamboos, so their
repeated words may fan the fire of pity in the heart of Nala.]
[Footnote 118: p. 63. l. 9. _To desire this deed unholy._ A second marriage in
a woman is considered in India an inexpiable breach of conjugal
fidelity. "A virtuous wife ascends to heaven, though she have no
child, if after the decease of her lord she devotes herself to pious
austerity. But a widow, who from a wish to bear children, slights her
deceased husband by marrying again, brings disgrace on herself here
below, and shall be excluded from the seat of her lord." MENU, v,
160-161. "She who neglects her former (purva) lord, though of a lower
class, and takes another (para) of a higher, becomes despicable in
this world, and is called para purva, or one who had a different
husband before." Ibid. 163.]
[Footnote 119: p. 64. l. 4. _With the ten good marks distinguished._ Avarttas
are "locks," curls, or twists of the hair in certain forms on
different parts of the body--here they are apparently: forehead 1,
head 2, chest 2, ribs 2, flanks 2, crupper 1. In the Magha, v. 9, we
have the term Avarttina applied to horses; on which the commentator
observes, "Avarttina signifies horses having the ten Avarttas, marks
of excellence; they are, two on the breast, two on the head, two on
the hollows of the ribs, two on the hollows of the flanks, and one on
the crupper (Prapata); these are called the ten Avarttas. Avartta
means an eddy, or whirlpool, and the name is applied to dispositions
of the hair of a horse which resemble a whirlpool." WILSON.]
[Footnote 120: p. 64. l. 4. _--born in Sindhu_. The Sindhu is the Indian name
for the Indus; the neighbouring territory is called Sind. See Asiatic
Researches, viii. 336.]
[Footnote 121: p. 65. l. 7. _Matali_. The charioteer of Indra. See Rhaguvansa,
xii, 86, and Sacontala.]
[Footnote 122: p. 66. l. 10. _Ten miles, lo, it lies beyond us._ A Yojana;
according to some eleven, according to others five or six English
miles. I have given a round number.]
[Footnote 123: p. 66. l. 12. _Vibhitak_. 'Beleric Myrobalan.' WILSON, Sanscrit
Dict. in voce.]
[Footnote 124: p. 66. l. 21. _Kotis_. A Koti is ten millions.]
[Footnote 125: p. 68. l. 11. _Kali_. It must be remembered that Kali, while
within the body of Nala, had been enchanted by the serpent Karkotaka.]
[Footnote 126: p. 68. l. 16. Damayanti; who had cursed in the forest all who had
caused the misery of Nala.]
[Footnote 127: p. 68. l. 25. Compare Prospero's power in the Tempest.]
[Footnote 128: p. 70. l. 4. _All the region round him echoing--with the thunders
of his car._ This scene rather reminds us of the watchman reporting
the rapid approach of Jehu, "The driving is like the driving of Jehu
the son of Nimshi; for he driveth furiously." II Kings ix, 20.]
[Footnote 129: p. 70. l. 6. _In their joy they pawed and trampled._ The horses
of Nala had been before conveyed to the city of king Bhima by
Varshneya.]
[Footnote 130: p. 70. l. 16. _--as at sound of coming rain._ The rejoicing of
the peacocks at the approach of rain is very sweetly described in the
play of Malati and Madhava, translated by Mr. Wilson.
Ah Malati, how can I bear to contemplate
The young Tamala, bowed beneath the weight
Of the light rain; the quivering drops that dance
Before the cooling gale; the joyful cry
That echoes round, as pleased the pea-fowl hail
The bow of heaven propitious to their loves.--p. 108.
In the Cloud Messenger, the Yaksha who addresses the cloud, fears lest
it should be delayed by the cry of the peacock--
Or can the peacock's animated hail
The bird with lucid eyes, to lure thee fail.--l. 147.
In another passage,
Pleased on each terrace, dancing with delight,
The friendly peacock hails thy grateful flight.--l. 215.]
[Footnote 131: p. 76. l. 19. _--much and various viands came_. The reader must
remember the various gifts bestowed on king Nala by the gods upon his
marriage.]
[Footnote 132: p. 77. l. 22. _--of her mouth ablution made_. Washing the mouth
after food, which Damayanti in her height of emotion does not forget,
is a duty strictly enjoined in the Indian law, which so rigidly
enforces personal cleanliness. "With a remnant of food in the mouth,
or when the Sraddha has recently been eaten, let no man even meditate
in his heart on the holy texts." MENU, iv, 109. "Having slumbered,
having sneezed, having eaten, having spitten, having told untruths,
having drunk water, and going to read sacred books, let him, though
pure, wash his mouth." v. 145.]
[Footnote 133: p. 79. l. 17. _--hair dishevelled, mire-defiled_. As a sign of
sorrow and mourning.]
[Footnote 134: p. 80. l. 4. _I will be._ "I will be," must be the commencement
of the prayer uttered by the bridegroom at the time of marriage. It
does not correspond with any of those cited by Mr. Colebrooke. It is
probably analogous to that given by him, Asiatic Researches, viii, p.
301. WILSON.]
[Footnote 135: p. 81. l. 11. _He through all the world that wanders--witness the
all-seeing lord._ See the curious Law of Ordeal, Asiatic Researches,
vol. i, p. 402, "On the trial by fire, let both hands of the accused
be rubbed with rice in the husk, and well examined: then let seven
leaves of the Aswatha (the religious fig-tree) be placed on them, and
bound with seven threads." Thou, O fire, pervadest all beings; O cause
of purity, who givest evidence of virtue and of sin, declare the truth
in this my hand.]
[Footnote 136: p. 81. l. 27. _--flowers fell showering all around._ These
heavenly beings are ever ready, in the machinery of Hindu epics, to
perform their pleasing office (of showering flowers on the head of the
happy pair) on every important occasion: they are called
Pushpa-vrishti, or flower-rainers. MOOR, Hindu Pantheon, 194. See in
the Raghuvansa, ii, 60. No sooner has king Dilipa offered himself to
die for the sacred cow of his Brahminical preceptor, than "a shower of
flowers" falls upon him.]
[Footnote 137: p. 86. l. 3. _--stands the Apsara in heaven._ The birth of the
Apsarasas is thus related in the Ramayana.
Then from the agitated deep upsprung
The legion of Apsarasas, so named
That to the watery element they owed
Their being. Myriads were they born, and all
In vesture heavenly clad, and heavenly gems;
Yet more divine their native semblance, rich
With all the gifts of grace and youth and beauty.
A train innumerous followed, yet thus fair
Nor god nor demon sought their widowed love;
Thus Raghava they still remain, their charms
The common treasure of the host of heaven.
--WILSON's Translation, Preface to the Drama of Vikrama and
Urvasi, p. 13.]
[Footnote 138: p. 87. l. 16. _Pushkara appeased._ The Calcutta edition has a
better reading than that of Bopp. Instead of Prasante Pushkare
(Pushkara appeased), it is Prasante tu pure, (the city being tranquil,
the rejoicings having ceased). WILSON.]
[Footnote 139: p. 87. l. 21. _Nala sate, as in Nandana_. Nandana is the garden
of Indra.]
[Footnote 140: p. 87. l. 23. _Ruled his realm in Jambudwipa_. Sic in Puranis
India nominatur. BOPP.]
NOTES TO
THE DEATH OF YAJNADATTA.
[Footnote 141: p. 91. l. 15. _So I the lovely Amra left_. The Amra is the
Mangifern Indica. This tree is not only valuable in the estimation of
the Indians for the excellence of its fruits; the belief that the
burning juice of its flowers is used to steep the darts of love,
enhances their veneration for this beautiful tree. It is frequently
mentioned in their poetry. M. CHEZY.]
[Footnote 142: p. 91. l. 15. _--for the Palasa's barren bloom_. The Palasa is
the Butea Frondosa of Koenig. Its flowers, of great beauty, are
papilionaceous; and its fruit, entirely without use in domestic
economy, compared particularly with the Amra, may well be called
barren. M. CHEZY. See Sir W. Jones's Essay on the Botany of India; and
the Asiatic Researches, vol. iii.]
[Footnote 143: p. 91. l. 19. _--hath fallen upon my fatal head_. "Yes, iniquity
once committed, fails not of producing fruit to him who wrought it; if
not in his own person, yet in his son's; or if not in his son's, yet
in his grandson's." MENU, iv. 173.]
[Footnote 144: p. 92. l. 2. _--where haunt the spirits of the dead!_ The south;
the realm of Yama, the judge of the dead.]
[Footnote 145: p. 92. l. 3. _--on high the welcome clouds appeared_. The beauty
of nature after the rainy season has refreshed the earth, is a
favourite topic in Indian poetry. The Cloud Messenger, so gracefully
translated by Mr. Wilson, is full of allusions to the grateful
progress of the cloud, welcomed as it passes along by the joy of
animate and inanimate beings. Quote 61-70, 131-142. Compare, in the
Hindu Drama, the Toy Cart, act v.]
[Footnote 146: p. 93. l. 2. _As though a pupil's hand accursed_. The offences
of a pupil against a tutor, almost the holiest relation of life, are
described in the Laws of Menu, ii. 191 to 218, 242, 8. "By censuring
his preceptor, though justly, he will be born an ass; by falsely
defaming him, a dog; by using his goods without leave, a small worm;
by envying his merit, a larger insect or reptile." As the Roman law
did not contemplate the possibility of parricide, that of Menu has no
provision against the crime in the text.]
[Footnote 147: p. 93. l. 6. _--to the five elements returned_. A common Indian
phrase for death. The ether is the fifth element.]
[Footnote 148: p. 93. l. 15. _Kshatriya_. The second, or warrior-caste. The
kings in India were usually of this caste.]
[Footnote 149: p. 93. l. 25. _Raghu_. One of the famous ancestors of Dasaratha.
The poem of the Raghu Vansa has recently appeared, edited by M.
Stenzler.]
[Footnote 150: p. 94. l. 3. _My sire, a Brahmin hermit he--my mother was of
Sudra race_. This seems inconsistent with Menu: "A Brahmin, if he
take a Sudra to his bed as his first wife, sinks to the regions of
torment; if he begets a child by her, he loses even his priestly
rank." iii, 17; also 18, 19.]
[Footnote 151: p. 96. l. 14. _The miserable father now_. See in Menu, the
penalties and expiation for killing a Brahmin undesignedly, xi, 74,
82; compare 90. An assaulter of a Brahman with intent to kill, shall
remain in hell a hundred years; for actually striking him with like
intent, a thousand; as many small pellets of dust as the blood of a
Brahmin collects on the ground, for so many thousand years must the
shedder of that blood be tormented in hell. xi. 207, 8.]
[Footnote 152: p. 97. l. 23. _I've reached the wished for realms of joy_. Among
the acts which lead to eternal bliss are these: "Studying and
comprehending the Veda--showing reverence to a natural or spiritual
father." MENU, xii, 83.]
NOTES TO
THE BRAHMIN'S LAMENT.
[Footnote 153: p. 104. l. 5.--_a heaven-winning race may make_.
Literally: Whom Brahma has placed with me in trust for a future
husband, and through whose offspring I may obtain with my progenitors
the regions secured by ablutions made by a daughter's sons. WILSON.]
[Footnote 154: p. 104. l. 15. A line is omitted here, which seems to
want a parallel to make up the sloka. Bopp has omitted it in his
translation.]
[Footnote 155: p. 105. l. 21. _--Sudra like_. The lowest caste who
are not privileged, and indeed have no disposition in the native
barrenness of their minds to study the sacred Vedas.]
[Footnote 156: p. 105. l. 25. _As the storks the rice of offering_.
We follow Bopp in refining these birds from birds of coarser prey.]
NOTES TO
THE DELUGE.
[Footnote 157: See the very valuable papers of this gentleman in the
Bombay Transactions.]
[Footnote 158: The editor remarks, that the name Manuja, Man-born, as
the appellative of the human race, is derived from Manu, as likewise
Manawas, _masc._ Man--Manawi, _fem._ Woman: from thence the Gothic
_Mann_, which we have preserved. Manu is thus the representative of
Man.]
THE DESCENT OF THE GANGES.
FIRST PRINTED IN THE QUARTERLY REVIEW, VOL. XLV.
The descent of the Ganges is the sequel of another fiction still more
monstrous, but perhaps one of the most singular of the cosmogonical
notions of the ancient Indians. Sagara, the king of Ayodhya (Oude),
was without offspring--in almost all eastern countries the most
grievous calamity incident to man, more especially to those of noble
or royal race. By the most surpassing penances he obtains an oracle
from the wise Brighu, predicting that one of his wives will bring
forth a single son, the other _sixty thousand_! Accordingly the fair
Cesina gives birth to Asamanja; his other wife to a gourd, which, like
the egg of Leda, is instinct with life. From the seeds of this gourd,
preserved with great care, and fed with ghee, come forth in due time
the sixty thousand boys. The son of Cesina was a youth of the most
malicious and cruel disposition; his pastime was to throw little
infants into the river, and solace himself with their cries. He is
sent into exile by his just and humane father, where he has a son,
Ansuman, as gentle and popular as Asamanja was malignant and odious.
King Sagara prepares to offer the Aswameda, the famous sacrifice of
the horse. The holy and untouched steed is led forth, as in the 'Curse
of Kehama,' among the admiring multitude, by the youthful Ansuman,
when on a sudden a monstrous serpent arises from the earth, and drags
it into the abyss. Sagara, in wrath, commands his sixty thousand sons
to undertake the recovery of the steed from the malignant demon who
has thus interrupted the sacrifice. Having searched long in vain, they
begin to dig into the bowels of the earth, until,--
'Cloven with shovel and with hoe, pierced by axes and by spades,
Shrieked the earth in frantic woe; rose from out the yawning shades
Yells of anguish, hideous roars from the expiring brood of hell--
Serpents, giants, and Asoors, in the deep abyss that dwell.
Sixty thousand leagues in length, all unweary, full of wrath,
Through the centre, in their strength, clove they down their hellward path.'
The gods, expecting the whole frame of the world, thus undermined, to
perish in total ruin, assemble around Brahma to implore his
interposition. He informs them that Vishnu, in the form of Kapila, has
been the robber of the horse, and that in due time the god will avenge
himself. From Patala, the hell of Indian mythology, the Sagaridae
recommence their impious and destructive work.
'And downward dug they many a rood, and downward till they
saw aghast, Where the earth-bearing elephant stood, ev'n like
a mountain tall and vast. 'Tis he whose head aloft sustains
the broad earth's forest-clothed round, With all its vast and
spreading plains, and many a stately city crown'd. If
underneath the o'erbearing load bows down his weary head,
'tis then The mighty earthquakes are abroad, and shaking down
the abodes of men. Around earth's pillar moved they slowly,
and thus in humble accents blest Him the lofty and the holy,
that bears the region of the East. And southward dug they
many a rood, until before their shuddering sight, The next
earth-bearing elephant stood, huge Mahapadmas' mountain
height. Upon his head earth's southern bound, all full of
wonder, saw they rest. Slow and awe-struck paced they round,
and him, earth's southern pillar, blest. Westward then their
work they urge, king Sagara's six myriad race, Unto the vast
earth's western verge, and there in his appointed place The
next earth-bearing elephant stood, huge Saumanasa's mountain
crest; Around they paced in humble mood, and in like
courteous phrase addrest, And still their weary toil endure,
and onward dig until they see Last earth-bearing Himapandure,
glorying in his majesty.'
At length they reach the place where Vishnu appears in the form of
Kapila, with the horse feeding near him; a flame issues forth from the
indignant deity, and the six myriad sons of Sagara become a heap of
ashes.
The adventure devolves on the youthful Ansuman, who achieves it with
perfect success; Vishnu permits him to lead away the steed, but the
ashes of his brethren cannot be purified by earthly water; the goddess
Ganga must first be brought to earth, and, having undergone lustration
from that holy flood, the race of Sagara are to ascend to heaven. Yet
a long period elapses; and it is not till the reign of the virtuous
Bhagiratha, that Brahma is moved by his surpassing penance to grant
the descent of Ganga from heaven. King Bhagiratha had taken his stand
on the top of Gokarna, the sacred peak of the Himavan, (the Himalaya,)
and here
'Stands with arms outstretch'd on high, amid five blazing fires, the one
Towards each quarter of the sky, the fifth the full meridian sun.
Mid fiercest frosts on snow he slept, the dry and withered leaves his food,
Mid rains his roofless vigil kept, the soul and sense alike subdued.'
His prayers are irresistible; but Brahma forewarns him, that the
unbroken descent of Ganga from heaven would be so overpowering, that
the earth would be unable to sustain it, and Siva must be propitiated,
in order that he may receive on his head the precipitous cataract.
Under this wild and unwieldy allegory appears to lurk an obscure
allusion to the course of the Ganges among the summits, and under the
forests of the Himalaya, which are the locks of Siva.
'High on the top of Himavan the mighty Mashawara stood;
And "Descend," he gave the word to the heaven-meandering water--
Full of wrath, the mandate heard Himavan's majestic daughter.
To a giant's stature soaring and intolerable speed,
From heaven's height down rush'd she pouring upon Siva's sacred head.
Him the goddess thought in scorn with her resistless might to sweep
By her fierce waves o'erborne, down to hell's remotest deep.'
Siva, in his turn enraged, resists her fury.
'Down on Sankara's holy head, down the holy fell, and there
Amid the entangling meshes spread, of his loose and flowing hair.
Vast and boundless as the woods upon the Himalaya's brow,
Nor ever may the struggling floods rush headlong to the earth below.
Opening, egress was not there, amid those winding, long meanders.
Within that labyrinthine hair, for many an age the goddess wanders.'
The king again has recourse to his penances, Siva is propitiated, and
the stream by seven[159] channels finds its way to the plains of India.
The spirit and the luxuriance of the description which follows, of the
king leading the way, and the obedient waters rolling after his car,
appear to us of a high order of poetry.
'Up the raja at the sign upon his glittering chariot leaps,
Instant Ganga the divine follows his majestic steps, From the
high heaven burst she forth first on Siva's lofty crown,
Headlong then and prone to earth thundering rushed the
cataract down. Swarms of bright-hued fish came dashing;
turtles, dolphins in their mirth, Fallen or falling,
glancing, flashing, to the many gleaming earth. And all the
host of heaven came down, spirits and genii, in amaze, And
each forsook his heavenly throne, upon that glorious scene to
gaze. On cars, like high tower'd cities, seen, with elephants
and coursers, rode, Or on soft swinging palanquin, lay
wondering each observant god. As met in bright divan each
god, and flash'd their jewell'd vestures' rays, The
coruscating aether glow'd, as with a hundred suns ablaze. And
with the fish and dolphins gleaming, and scaly crocodiles and
snakes, Glanc'd the air, as when fast streaming the blue
lightning shoots and breaks: And in ten thousand sparkles
bright went flashing up the cloudy spray, The snowy flocking
swans less white, within its glittering mists at play. And
headlong now poured down the flood, and now in silver
circlets wound, Then lakelike spread all bright and broad,
then gently, gently flowed around, Then 'neath the cavern'd
earth descending, then spouted up the boiling tide, Then
stream with stream harmonious blending, swell bubbling up or
smooth subside. By that heaven-welling water's breast, the
genii and the sages stood, Its sanctifying dews they blest,
and plung'd within the lustral flood. Whoe'er beneath the
curse of heaven from that immaculate world had fled, To th'
impure earth in exile driven, to that all-holy baptism sped;
And purified from every sin, to the bright spirit's bliss
restor'd, Th' etherial sphere they entered in, and through
th' empyreal mansions soar'd. The world in solemn jubilee
behold these heavenly waves draw near, From sin and dark
pollution free, bathed in the blameless waters clear. Swift
king Bhagiratha drave upon his lofty glittering car, And
swift with her obeisant wave bright Ganga followed him afar.'
[Footnote 159: Schlegel supposes the three western streams to be the
Indus, which appears under its real name the Sind, the Iaxartes, and
the Oxus; are not the Sareswatie, or perhaps the Sutlej, under the
name of Sita, and the Jumna meant? Of the eastern branches, it is not
difficult to fix the Burhampooter. Schlegel suggests the Irawaddy, and
the Blue River of China. Why not the Alacananda and the Gogra? The
main stream bears the name of the Bhaghiratha, till it joins the
Alacananda and takes the name of the Ganges.]
THE END.