Chapter 7

Answered Sujata: "Worshipful! my heart Is little, and a little rain will fill The lily's cup which hardly moists the field. It is enough for me to feel life's sun Shine in my lord's grace and my baby's smile, Making the loving summer of our home. Pleasant my days pass filled with household cares From sunrise when I wake to praise the gods, And give forth grain, and trim the tulsi-plant, And set my handmaids to their tasks, till noon When my lord lays his head upon my lap Lulled by soft songs and wavings of the fan; And so to supper-time at quiet eve, When by his side I stand and serve the cakes. Then the stars light their silver lamps for sleep, After the temple and the talk with friends. How should I not be happy, blest so much, And bearing him this boy whose tiny hand Shall lead his soul to Swerga, if it need? For holy books teach when a man shall plant Trees for the travelers' shade, and dig a well For the folks' comfort, and beget a son, It shall be good for such after their death; And what the books say, that I humbly take, Being not wiser than those great of old Who spake with gods, and knew the hymns and charms, And all the ways of virtue and of peace. Also I think that good must come of good And ill of evil--surely--unto all-- In every place and time--seeing sweet fruit Groweth from wholesome roots, and bitter things From poison-stocks; yea, seeing, too, how spite Breeds hate, and kindness friends, and patience peace Even while we live; and when 't is willed we die Shall there not be as good a `Then' as `Now'? Haply much better! since one grain of rice Shoots a green feather gemmed with fifty pearls, And all the starry champak's white and gold Lurks in those little, naked, grey spring-buds. Ah, Sir! I know there might be woes to bear Would lay fond Patience with her face in dust; If this my babe pass first I think my heart Would break--almost I hope my heart would break! That I might clasp him dead and wait my lord In whatsoever world holds faithful wives-- Duteous, attending till his hour should come. But if Death called Senani, I should mount The pile and lay that dear head in my lap, My daily way, rejoicing when the torch Lit the quick flame and rolled the choking smoke. For it is written if an Indian wife Die so, her love shall give her husband's soul For every hair upon her head a crore Of years in Swerga. Therefore fear I not. And therefore, Holy Sir! my life is glad, Nowise forgetting yet those other lives Painful and poor, wicked and miserable, Whereon the gods grant pity! but for me, What good I see humbly I seek to do, And live obedient to the law, in trust That what will come, and must come, shall come well."

Then spake our Lord: "Thou teachest them who teach, Wiser than wisdom in thy simple lore. Be thou content to know not, knowing thus Thy way of right and duty: grow, thou flower With thy sweet kind in peaceful shade--the light Of Truth's high noon is not for tender leaves Which must spread broad in other suns and lift In later lives a crowned head to the sky. Thou who hast worshipped me, I worship thee! Excellent heart! learned unknowingly, As the dove is which flieth home by love. In thee is seen why there is hope for man And where we hold the wheel of life at will. Peace go with thee, and comfort all thy days! As thou accomplishest, may I achieve! He whom thou thoughtest God bids thee wish this."

"May'st thou achieve," she said, with earnest eyes Bent on her babe, who reached its tender hands To Buddh--knowing, belike, as children know, More than we deem, and reverencing our Lord; But he arose--made strong with that pure meat-- And bent his footsteps where a great Tree grew, The Bodhi-tree (thenceforward in all years Never to fade, and ever to be kept In homage of the world), beneath whose leaves It was ordained that Truth should come to Buddh Which now the Master knew; wherefore he went With measured pace, steadfast, majestical, Unto the Tree of Wisdom. Oh, ye Worlds! Rejoice! our Lord wended unto the Tree!

Whom--as he passed into its ample shade, Cloistered with columned dropping stems, and roofed With vaults of glistening green--the conscious earth Worshipped with waving grass and sudden flush Of flowers about his feet. The forest-boughs Bent down to shade him; from the river sighed Cool wafts of wind laden with lotus-scents Breathed by the water-gods. Large wondering eyes Of woodland creatures--panther, boar, and deer-- At peace that eve, gazed on his face benign From cave and thicket. From its cold cleft wound The mottled deadly snake, dancing its hood In honour of our Lord; bright butterflies Fluttered their vans, azure and green and gold, To be his fan-bearers; the fierce kite dropped Its prey and screamed; the striped palm-squirrel raced From stem to stem to see; the weaver-bird Chirped from her swinging nest; the lizard ran; The koil sang her hymn; the doves flocked round; Even the creeping things were 'ware and glad. Voices of earth and air joined in one song, Which unto ears that hear said: "Lord and Friend! Lover and Saviour! Thou who hast subdued Angers and prides, desires and fears and doubts, Thou that for each and all hast given thyself, Pass to the Tree! The sad world blesseth thee Who art the Buddh that shall assuage her woes. Pass, Hailed and Honoured! strive thy last for us, King and high Conqueror! thine hour is come; This is the Night the ages waited for!"

Then fell the night even as our Master sate Under that Tree. But he who is the Prince Of Darkness, Mara--knowing this was Buddh Who should deliver men, and now the hour When he should find the Truth and save the worlds-- Gave unto all his evil powers command. Wherefore there trooped from every deepest pit The fiends who war with Wisdom and the Light, Arati, Trishna, Raga, and their crew Of passions, horrors, ignorances, lusts. The brood of gloom and dread; all hating Buddh, Seeking to shake his mind; nor knoweth one, Not even the wisest, how those fiends of Hell Battled that night to keep the Truth from Buddh: Sometimes with terrors of the tempest, blasts Of demon-armies clouding all the wind, With thunder, and with blinding lightning flung In jagged javelins of purple wrath From splitting skies; sometimes with wiles and words Fair-sounding, 'mid hushed leaves and softened airs From shapes of witching beauty; wanton songs, Whispers of love; sometimes with royal allures Of proffered rule; sometimes with mocking doubts, Making truth vain. But whether these befell Without and visible, or whether Buddh Strove with fell spirits in his inmost heart, Judge ye:--I write what ancient books have writ.

The ten chief Sins came--Mara's mighty ones, Angels of evil--Attavada first, The Sin of Self, who in the Universe As in a mirror sees her fond face shown, And crying "I" would have the world say "I," And all things perish so if she endure. "If thou be'st Buddh," she said, "let others grope Lightless; it is enough that thou art Thou Changelessly; rise and take the bliss of gods Who change not, heed not, strive not." But Buddh spake, "The right in thee is base, the wrong a curse; Cheat such as love themselves." Then came wan Doubt, He that denies--the mocking Sin--and this Hissed in the Master's ear: "All things are shows, And vain the knowledge of their vanity; Thou dost but chase the shadow of thyself; Rise and go hence, there is no better way Than patient scorn, nor any help for man, Nor any staying of his whirling wheel." But quoth our Lord, "Thou hast no part with me, False Visikitcha, subtlest of man's foes." And third came she who gives dark creeds their power, Silabbat-paramasa, sorceress, Draped fair in many lands as lowly Faith, But ever juggling souls with rites and prayers; The keeper of those keys which lock up Hells And open Heavens. "Wilt thou dare," she said, "Put by our sacred books, dethrone our gods, Unpeople all the temples, shaking down That law which feeds the priests and props the realms?" But Buddha answered, "What thou bidd'st me keep Is form which passes, but the free Truth stands; Get thee unto thy darkness." Next there drew Gallantly nigh a braver Tempter, he, Kama, the King of passions, who hath sway Over the gods themselves, lord of all loves, Ruler of Pleasure's realm. Laughing he came Unto the Tree, bearing his bow of gold Wreathed with red blooms, and arrows of desire Pointed with five-tongued delicate flame which stings The heart it smites sharper than poisoned barb. And round him came into that lonely place Bands of bright shapes with heavenly eyes and lips Singing in lovely words the praise of Love To music of invisible sweet chords, So witching, that it seemed the night stood still To hear them, and the listening stars and moon, Paused in their orbits while these hymned to Buddh Of lost delights, and how a mortal man Findeth nought dearer in the three wide worlds Than are the yielded loving fragrant breasts Of Beauty and the rosy breast-blossoms, Love's rubies; nay, and toucheth nought more high Than is that dulcet harmony of form Seen in the lines and charms of loveliness Unspeakable, yet speaking, soul to soul, Owned by the bounding blood, worshipped by will Which leaps to seize it, knowing this is best, This the true heaven where mortals are like gods, Makers and Masters, this the gift of gifts Ever renewed and worth a thousand woes. For who hath grieved when soft arms shut him safe, And all life melted to a happy sigh, And all the world was given in one warm kiss? So sang, they with soft float of beckoning hands, Eyes lighted with love-flames, alluring smiles; In dainty dance their supple sides and limbs Revealing and concealing like burst buds Which tell their colour, but hide yet their hearts. Never so matchless grace delighted eye As troop by troop these midnight-dancers swept Nearer the Tree, each daintier than the last, Murmuring, "O great Siddartha! I am thine, Taste of my mouth and see if youth is sweet!" Also, when nothing moved our Master's mind, Lo! Kama waved his magic bow, and lo! The band of dancers opened, and a shape Fairest and stateliest of the throng came forth Wearing the guise of sweet Yasodhara. Tender the passion of those dark eyes seemed Brimming with tears; yearning those outspread arms Opened towards him; musical that moan Wherewith the beauteous shadow named his name, Sighing: "My Prince! I die for lack of thee! What heaven hast thou found like that we knew By bright Rohini in the Pleasure-house, Where all these weary years I weep for thee? Return, Siddartha! ah, return! But touch My lips again, but let me to thy breast Once, and these fruitless dreams will end! Ah, look! Am I not she thou lovedst?" But Buddh said: "For that sweet sake of her thou playest thus Fair and false Shadow, is thy playing vain; I curse thee not who wear'st a form so dear, Yet as thou art, so are all earthly shows. Melt to thy void again!" Thereat a cry Thrilled through the grove, and all that comely rout Faded with flickering wafts of flame, and trail Of vaporous ropes.

Next under darkening skies And noise of rising storm came fiercer Sins The rearmost of the Ten, Patigha--Hate-- With serpents coiled about her waist, which suck Poisonous milk from both her hanging dugs, And with her curses mix their angry hiss. Little wrought she upon that Holy One Who with his calm eyes dumbed her bitter lips And made her black snakes writhe to hide their fangs. Then followed Ruparaga--Lust of days-- That sensual Sin which out of greed for life Forgets to live; and next him Lust of Fame, Nobler Aruparaga, she whose spell Beguiles the wise, mother of daring deeds, Battles and toils. And haughty Mano came, The Fiend of Pride; and smooth Self-Righteousness. Uddhachcha; and--with many a hideous band Of vile and formless things, which crept and flapped Toad-like and bat-like--Ignorance, the Dam Of Fear and Wrong, Avidya, hideous hag, Whose footsteps left the midnight darker, while The rooted mountains shook, the wild winds howled, The broken clouds shed from their caverns streams Of levin-lighted rain; stars shot from heaven, The solid earth shuddered as if one laid Flame to her gaping wounds; the torn black air Was full of whistling wings, of screams and yells, Of evil faces peering, of vast fronts Terrible and majestic, Lords of Hell Who from a thousand Limbos led their troops To tempt the Master.

But Buddh heeded not, Sitting serene, with perfect virtue walled As is a stronghold by its gates and ramps; Also the Sacred Tree--the Bodhi-tree-- Amid that tumult stirred not, but each leaf Glistened as still as when on moonlit eves No zephyr spills the glittering gems of dew; For all this clamour raged outside the shade Spread by those cloistered stems.

In the third watch, The earth being still, the hellish legions fled, A soft air breathing from the sinking moon, Our Lord attained samma-sambuddh; he saw By light which shines beyond our mortal ken The line of all his lives in all the worlds, Far back and farther back and farthest yet, Five hundred lives and fifty. Even as one, At rest upon a mountain-summit, marks His path wind up by precipice and crag Past thick-set woods shrunk to a patch; through bogs Glittering false-green; down hollows where he toiled Breathless; on dizzy ridges where his feet Had well-nigh slipped; beyond the sunny lawns, The cataract and the cavern and the pool, Backward to those dim flats wherefrom he sprang To reach the blue--thus Buddha did behold Life's upward steps long-linked, from levels low Where breath is base, to higher slopes and higher Whereon the ten great Virtues wait to lead The climber skyward. Also, Buddha saw How new life reaps what the old life did sow; How where its march breaks off its march begins; Holding the gain and answering for the loss; And how in each life good begets more good, Evil fresh evil; Death but casting up Debit or credit, whereupon th' account In merits or demerits stamps itself By sure arithmic--where no tittle drops-- Certain and just, on some new-springing life; Wherein are packed and scored past thoughts and deeds, Strivings and triumphs, memories and marks Of lives foregone:

And in the middle watch, Our Lord attained Abhidjna--insight vast Ranging beyond this sphere to spheres unnamed, System on system, countless worlds and suns Moving in splendid measures, band by band Linked in division, one yet separate, The silver islands of a sapphire sea Shoreless, unfathomed, undiminished, stirred With waves which roll in restless tides of change. He saw those Lords of Light who hold their worlds By bonds invisible, how they themselves Circle obedient round mightier orbs Which serve profounder splendours, star to star Flashing the ceaseless radiance of life From centres ever shifting unto cirques Knowing no uttermost. These he beheld With unsealed vision, and of all those worlds, Cycle on epicycle, all their tale Of Kalpas, Mahakalpas--terms of time Which no man grasps, yea, though he knew to count The drops in Gunga from her springs to the sea, Measureless unto speech--whereby these wax And wane; whereby each of this heavenly host Fulfils its shining life and darkling dies. Sakwal by Sakwal, depths and heights be passed Transported through the blue infinitudes, Marking--behind all modes, above all spheres, Beyond the burning impulse of each orb-- That fixed decree at silent work which wills Evolve the dark to light, the dead to life, To fulness void, to form the yet unformed, Good unto better, better unto best, By wordless edict; having none to bid, None to forbid; for this is past all gods Immutable, unspeakable, supreme, A Power which builds, unbuilds, and builds again, Ruling all things accordant to the rule Of virtue, which is beauty, truth, and use. So that all things do well which serve the Power, And ill which hinder; nay, the worm does well Obedient to its kind; the hawk does well Which carries bleeding quarries to its young; The dewdrop and the star shine sisterly, Globing together in the common work; And man, who lives to die, dies to live well So if he guide his ways by blamelessness And earnest will to hinder not but help All things both great and small which suffer life. These did our Lord see in the middle watch.

But when the fourth watch came the secret came Of Sorrow, which with evil mars the law, As damp and dross hold back the goldsmith's fire. Then was the Dukha-satya opened him First of the "Noble Truths"; how Sorrow is Shadow to life, moving where life doth move; Not to be laid aside until one lays Living aside, with all its changing states, Birth, growth, decay, love, hatred, pleasure, pain, Being and doing. How that none strips off These sad delights and pleasant griefs who lacks Knowledge to know them snares; but he who knows Avidya--Delusion--sets those snares, Loves life no longer but ensues escape. The eyes of such a one are wide; he sees Delusion breeds Sankhara, Tendency Perverse: Tendency Energy--Vidnnan-- Whereby comes Namarupa, local form And name and bodiment, bringing the man With senses naked to the sensible, A helpless mirror of all shows which pass Across his heart; and so Vendana grows-- "Sense-life "--false in its gladness, fell in sadness, But sad or glad, the Mother of Desire, Trishna, that thirst which makes the living drink Deeper and deeper of the false salt waves Whereon they float--pleasures, ambitions, wealth, Praise, fame, or domination, conquest, love; Rich meats and robes, and fair abodes, and pride Of ancient lines, and lust of days, and strife To live, and sins that flow from strife, some sweet, Some bitter. Thus Life's thirst quenches itself With draughts which double thirst; but who is wise Tears from his soul this Trishna, feeds his sense No longer on false shows, fills his firm mind To seek not, strive not, wrong not; bearing meek All ills which flow from foregone wrongfulness, And so constraining passions that they die Famished; till all the sum of ended life-- The Karma--all that total of a soul Which is the things it did, the thoughts it had, The "Self" it wove--with woof of viewless time, Crossed on the warp invisible of acts-- The outcome of him on the Universe, Grows pure and sinless; either never more Needing to find a body and a place, Or so informing what fresh frame it takes In new existence that the new toils prove Lighter and lighter not to be at all, Thus "finishing the Path"; free from Earth's cheats; Released from all the skandhas of the flesh; Broken from ties--from Upandanas--saved From whirling on the wheel; aroused and sane As is a man wakened from hateful dreams; Until--greater than Kings, than Gods more glad!-- The aching craze to live ends, and life glides-- Lifeless--to nameless quiet, nameless joy, Blessed NIRVANA--sinless, stirless rest That change which never changes!