continued from previous issue

For a gladness stirs thy bosom when thy greatest woo is nigh! Who that hath a woman’s wisdom, who that is a prudent wife.

Smiles in joy when prouder rival triumphs in the race of life,
How can hapless Queen Kaikeyi greet this deed of darkness done,
When the favoured Queen Kausalya wins the empire for her son? Know the truth,
O witless woman! Bharat is unmatched in fame, Rama,
deep and darkly jealous,
dreads thy Bharat’s rival claim,
Younger Lakshman with devotion doth on eldest Rama wait,
Young Satrughna with affection follows Bharat’s lofty fate,
Rama dreads no rising danger from the twins,
the youngest-born,
But thy Bharat’s claims and virtues fill his jealous heart with scorn! Trust me, queen,
thy Bharat’s merits are too well and widely known,
And he stands too near and closely by a rival brother’s throne,
Rama hath a wolf-like wisdom and a fang to reach the foe,
And I tremble for thy Bharat, Heaven avert untimely woe! Happy is the Queen Kausalya,
they will soon anoint her son, When on Pushya’s constellation gaily rides to-morrow’s moon, Happy is the Queen Kausalya in her regal pomp and state,
And Kaikeyi like a bond-slave must upon her rival wait! Wilt thou do her due obeisance as we humble women do, Will thy proud and princely Bharat as his brother’s henchman go,
Will thy Bharat’s gentle consort,
fairest princess in this land,
In her tears and in her anguish wait on Sita’s proud command?
With a woman’s scornful anger Manthara proclaimed her grief,
With a mother’s love for Rama thus Kaikeyi answered brief: “What inspires thee,
wicked woman, thus to rail in bitter tone,
Shall not Rama, best and eldest,
fill his father’s royal throne,
What alarms thee, crooked woman,
in the happy rites begun,
Shall not Rama guard his brothers as a father guards his son?
And when Rama’s reign is over,
shall not Gods my Bharat speed,
And by law and ancient custom shall not younger son succeed,
In the present bliss of Rama and in Bharat’s future hope, What offends thee,
senseless woman, wherefore dost thou idly mope?
Dear is Rama as my Bharat,
ever duteous in his ways, Rama honours Queen Kausalya,
loftier honour to me pays, Rama’s realm is Bharat’s kingdom,
ruling partners they shall prove,
For himself than for his brothers Rama owns no deeper love!”
Scorn and anger shook her person and her bosom heaved a sigh, As in wilder,
fiercer accents Manthara thus made reply: What insensate rage or madness clouds thy heart and blinds thine eye, Courting thus thy own disaster,
courting danger dread and high,
What dark folly clouds thy vision to the workings of thy foe,
Heedless thus to seek destruction and to sink in gulf of woe? Know,
fair queen, by law and custom, son ascends the throne of pride,
Rama’s son succeedeth Rama, luckless Bharat steps aside,
Brothers do not share a kingdom, nor can one by one succeed,
Mighty were the civil discord if such custom were decreed! For to stop all war and tumult,
thus the ancient laws ordain,
Eldest son succeeds his father,
younger children may not reign,
Bharat barred from Rama’s empire,
vainly decked with royal grace, Friendless,
joyless, long shall wander,
alien from his land and race! Thou hast home the princely Bharat,
nursed him from thy gentle breast, To a queen and to a mother need a prince’s claims be pressed,
To a thoughtless heedless mother must I Bharat’s virtues plead,
Must the Queen Kaikeyi witness Queen Kausalya’s son succeed? Trust thy old and faithful woman who bath nursed thee, youthful queen,
And in great and princely houses many darksome deeds hath seen,
Trust my word, the wily Rama for his spacious empire’s good,
Soon will banish friendless Bharat and secure his peace with blood!
Thou hast sent the righteous Bharat to thy ancient father’s land,
And Satrughna young an valiant doth beside his brother stand,
Young in years and generous-hearted,
they will grow in mutual love,
As the love of elder Rama doth in Lakshman’s bosom move,
Young companions grow in friendship,
and our ancient legends tell,
Weeds protect a forest monarch which the woodman’s axe would fell,
Crownéd Rama unto Lakshman will a loving brother prove,
But for Bharat and Satrughna, Rama’s bosom owns no love,
And a danger thus ariseth if the elder wins the throne,
Haste thee, heedless Queen Kaikeyi,
save the younger and thy son! Speak thy mandate to thy husband,
let thy Bharat rule at home,
In the deep and pathless jungle let the banished Rama roam, This will please thy ancient father and thy father’s kith and kin, This will please the righteous people, Bharat knows no guile or sin! Speak thy mandate to thy husband, win thy son a happy fate,
Doom him not to Rama’s service or his unrelenting hate,
Let not Rama in his rancour shed a younger brother’s blood,
As the lion slays the tiger in the deep and echoing wood! With the magic of thy beauty thou hast won thy monarch’s heart,
Queen Kausalya’s bosom rankles with a woman’s secret smart,
Let her not with woman’s vengeance turn upon her prouder foe,
And as crownéd Rama’s mother venge her in Kaikeyi’s woe,
Mark my word,
my child Kaikeyi, much these ancient eyes have seen,
Rama’s rule is death to Bharat,
insult to my honoured queen!” Like a slow but deadly poison worked the ancient nurse’s tears,
And a wife’s undying impulse mingled with a mother’s fears,
Deep within Kaikeyi’s bosom worked a woman’s jealous thought,
Speechless in her scorn and anger mourner’s dark retreat she sought.

THE QUEEN’S DEMAND

Rama shall be crowned at sunrise, so did royal bards proclaim,
Every rite arranged and ordered, Dasaratha homeward came,
To the fairest of his consorts,
dearest to his ancient heart,
Came the king with eager gladness joyful message to impart,
Radiant as the Lord of Midnight, ere the eclipse casts its gloom,
Carne the old and ardent monarch heedless of his darksome doom! Through the shady palace garden where the peacock wandered free.
Lute and lyre poured forth their music,
parrot flew from tree to tree,
Through the corridor of creepers,
painted rooms by artists done,
And the halls where scented Champak and the flaming Asok shone,
Through the portico of splendour graced by silver,
tusk and gold. Radiant with his thought of gladness walked the monarch proud and bold.
Through the lines of scented blossoms which by limpid waters shone,
And the rooms with seats of silver,
ivory bench and golden throne.

to be continued