Book 2.

       Table of Contents

      Canto 1. The Heir Apparent.

      So Bharat to his grandsire went

      Obedient to the message sent,

      And for his fond companion chose

Śatrughna slayer of his foes.1

      There Bharat for a time remained

      With love and honour entertained,

      King Aśvapati’s constant care,

      Beloved as a son and heir.

      Yet ever, as they lived at ease,

      While all around combined to please,

      The aged sire they left behind

      Was present to each hero’s mind.

      Nor could the king’s fond memory stray

      From his brave children far away,

      Dear Bharat and Śatrughna dear,

      Each Varuṇ‘s match or Indra’s peer.

      To all the princes, young and brave,

      His soul with fond affection clave;

      Around his loving heart they clung

Like arms from his own body sprung.2

      But best and noblest of the four,

      Good as the God whom all adore,

      Lord of all virtues, undefiled,

      His darling was his eldest child.

      For he was beautiful and strong,

      From envy free, the foe of wrong,

      With all his father’s virtues blest,

      And peerless in the world confessed.

      With placid soul he softly spoke:

      No harsh reply could taunts provoke.

      He ever loved the good and sage

      Revered for virtue and for age,

      And when his martial tasks were o’er

      Sate listening to their peaceful lore.

      Wise, modest, pure, he honoured eld,

      His lips from lying tales withheld;

      Due reverence to the Bráhmans gave,

      And ruled each passion like a slave.

      Most tender, prompt at duty’s call,

      Loved by all men he loved them all.

      Proud of the duties of his race,

      With spirit meet for Warrior’s place.

      He strove to win by glorious deed,

      Throned with the Gods, a priceless meed.

      With him in speech and quick reply

      Vrihaspati might hardly vie,

      But never would his accents flow

      For evil or for empty show.

      In art and science duly trained,

      His student vow he well maintained;

      He learnt the lore for princes fit,

      The Vedas and their Holy Writ,

      And with his well-drawn bow at last

      His mighty father’s fame surpassed.

      Of birth exalted, truthful, just,

      With vigorous hand, with noble trust,

      Well taught by aged twice-born men

      Who gain and right could clearly ken,

      Full well the claims and bounds he knew

      Of duty, gain, and pleasure too:

      Of memory keen, of ready tact,

      In civil business prompt to act.

      Reserved, his features ne’er disclosed

      What counsel in his heart reposed.

      All idle rage and mirth controlled,

      He knew the times to give and hold,

      Firm in his faith, of steadfast will,

      He sought no wrong, he spoke no ill:

      Not rashly swift, not idly slow,

      His faults and others’ keen to know.

      Each merit, by his subtle sense;

      He matched with proper recompense.

      He knew the means that wealth provide,

      And with keen eye expense could guide.

      Wild elephants could he reclaim,

      And mettled steeds could mount and tame.

      No arm like his the bow could wield,

      Or drive the chariot to the field.

      Skilled to attack, to deal the blow,

      Or lead a host against the foe:

      Yea, e’en infuriate Gods would fear

      To meet his arm in full career.

      As the great sun in noontide blaze

      Is glorious with his world of rays,

      So Ráma with these virtues shone

      Which all men loved to gaze upon.

      The aged monarch fain would rest,

      And said within his weary breast,

      “Oh that I might, while living yet,

      My Ráma o’er the kingdom set.

      And see, before my course be run,

      The hallowed drops anoint my son;

      See all this spacious land obey,

      From side to side, my first-born’s sway,

      And then, my life and joy complete,