The RÁMÁYAN of VÁLMÍKI - Part 2 - 98 books and stories free download online pdf in English

The RÁMÁYAN of VÁLMÍKI - Part 2 - 98

98
Canto XCVIII. 
Lakshman Calmed.
Then Ráma nobly calm allayed

The wrath that Lakshmaṇ's bosom swayed:

“What need have we the sword to wield,

To bend the bow or lift the shield,

If Bharat brave, and wise, and good,

Himself has sought this sheltering wood?

I sware my father's will to do,

And if I now my brother slew

What gain in kingship should I find,

Despised and scorned by all mankind?

Believe me, e'en as I would shrink

From poisoned meat or deadly drink,

No power or treasure would I win

By fall of friend or kith or kin.

Brother, believe the words I speak:

For your dear sakes alone I seek

Duty and pleasure, wealth and gain:

A holy life, a happy reign.

If royal sway my heart desires,

My brothers' weal the wish inspires:

Their bliss and safety is my care,

By this uplifted bow I swear.

'Twere not so hard for me to gain

This broad land girdled by the main,

But even Indra's royal might

Should ne'er be mine in duty's spite.

If any bliss my soul can see

Deprived of dear Śatrughna, thee,

And Bharat, may the flame destroy

With ashy gloom the selfish joy.

Far dearer than this life of mine,

Knowing the custom of our line,

His heart with fond affection fraught,

Bharat Ayodhyá's town resought

And hearing when he came that I,

With thee and Sítá, forced to fly

With matted hair and hermit dress

Am wandering in the wilderness.

While grief his troubled senses storms,

And tender love his bosom warms,

From every thought of evil clear,

Is come to meet his brother here.

Some grievous words perchance he spoke

Kaikeyí's anger to provoke,

Then won the king, and comes to lay

Before my feet the royal sway.

Hither, methinks, in season due

Comes Bharat for an interview,

Nor in his secret heart has he

One evil thought 'gainst thee or me.

What has he done ere now, reflect!

How failed in love or due respect

To make thee doubt his faith and lay

This evil to his charge to-day?

Thou shouldst not join with Bharat's name

So harsh a speech and idle blame.

The blows thy tongue at Bharat deals,

My sympathizing bosom feels.

How, urged by stress of any ill,

Should sons their father's life-blood spill,

Or brother slay in impious strife

A brother dearer than his life?

If thou these cruel words hast said

By strong desire of empire led,

My brother Bharat will I pray

To give to thee the kingly sway.

“Give him the realm,” my speech shall be,

And Bharat will, methinks, agree.”

Thus spoke the prince whose chief delight

Was duty, and to aid the right:

And Lakshmaṇ keenly felt the blame,

And shrank within himself for shame:

And then his answer thus returned,

With downcast eye and cheek that burned:

“Brother, I ween, to see thy face

Our sire himself has sought this place.”

Thus Lakshmaṇ spoke and stood ashamed,

And Ráma saw and thus exclaimed:

“It is the strong-armed monarch: he

Is come, methinks, his sons to see,

To bid us both the forest quit

For joys for which he deems us fit:

He thinks on all our care and pain,

And now would lead us home again.

My glorious father hence will bear

Sítá who claims all tender care.

I see two coursers fleet as storms,

Of noble breed and lovely forms.

I see the beast of mountain size

Who bears the king our father wise,

The aged Victor, march this way

In front of all the armed array.

But doubt and fear within me rise,

For when I look with eager eyes

I see no white umbrella spread,

World-famous, o'er the royal head.

Now, Lakshmaṇ, from the tree descend,

And to my words attention lend.”

Thus spoke the pious prince: and he

Descended from the lofty tree,

And reverent hand to hand applied,

Stood humbly by his brother's side.

The host, compelled by Bharat's care,

The wood from trampling feet to spare,

Dense crowding half a league each way

Encamped around the mountain lay.

Below the tall hill's shelving side

Gleamed the bright army far and wide

Spread o'er the ample space,

By Bharat led who firmly true

In duty from his bosom threw

All pride, and near his brother drew

To win the hero's grace.