Part 34

Starting in a moment from sleep, king Dacaratha deprived (almost) of his consciousness by grief, (again) became a prey to thought. And in consequence of the exile of Rama and Lakshmana, the king resembling Vasava was overpowered by grief, like the darkness of Rahu enveloping the sun. Then on Rama's having gone along with his wife, the lord of the Kocalas, remembering his own misdeed, felt anxious to communicate himself to that lady having her eyes furnished with dark outer corners. And on the sixth night after Rama had repaired to the forest, the king Dacaratha, when it was midnight, remembered his own unrighteous act. And then unto Kaucalya aggrieved on account of her son, he spoke these words, "As are the actions of one, O auspicious one--whether good or otherwise-- are the consequences, O gentle lady, reaped by the doer of them. He that on the eve of beginning an action either relating to this world or the next, does not take into consideration the fact that actions entail consequences light or grave, disagreeable (or otherwise), is styled a child. He that cutting down a mango grove, waters Palasa trees, beholding the flowers (blooming), will covet fruits; and grieve when their season arrives. The person that without apprehending (the principle of causation) rushes to action, grieves at the season of fruits, even like him that watereth _kinsuka_ trees (hewing down his mango grove). And in this way, I fool that I am having hewn down my grove of mangos and watered Palacas,--having renounced Rama in the season of fruit, is grieving in the end. Having, O Kaucalya, earned the expression--'The Prince can pierce his aim by sound alone,'--I, a prince and bowman, did this offence. Therefore, O noble dame, I have myself brought this misfortune on me. like a child who has eaten poison through ignorance. And even like another person fascinated by the sight of some Palasa trees (and doing as mentioned above), I (did this act) not foreknowing the consequence that would follow my shooting by sound. O lady, thou wert then unwedded; and I was a youthful prince. And it was at this time that the rainy season increasing my desire set in. Drawing moisture from the ground and heated the earth by his rays, the Sun goes to the dreadful quarter whither repair the dead. The heat was immediately dispelled, and the gelid clouds showed themselves; and frogs and Sarangas and peacocks began to rejoice; and, finding it unpleasant, the feathered ones bathed and with the surface of their plumage shrunk up from the wet, took refuge in trees shaken by the wind and rain. And the hill graced by maddened Sarangas, covered by showers falling simultaneously looked like a mass of waters. And the waters although unstained, being mixed up with mineral substances and ashes from the mountain, flowed in serpentine torrents black and red. At such a sweet hour, I intent upon taking excercise, taking my bow and arrows and mounted on my car, sallied out for the river Sarayu, with the intention that I with my senses under control, should in the watery expense slay any bufifelo, elephant, or any other beast that might have come there in the night. And (coming there) while it was so dark that nothing could be discovered, I heard sounds of a filling pitcher proceeding from the waters; resembling the roars of an elephant. Thereupon raising up my shaft flaming and like unto a serpent of virulent poison, I desirous of hunting the (imaginary) elephant, let fly my shaft in the direction of the sound. Thereupon from the spot whereto the sharpened shaft resembling a poisonous snake had been discharged by me in the twilight, proceeded cries of 'Oh' and 'Alas' uttered by a forester pierced to the quick by the arrow, and falling into the water. And when he had dropped down, words spoken by a human being became audible. 'Why doth the weapon light upon me? I had come to this lone stream for procuring water. By whom have I been wounded by this arrow? To whom have I done wrong? And how can the slaying of one like me bearing a load of matted locks, and wearing bark and deer-skin, who subsists on what the forest yields and never injures others, be sanctioned by the scriptures? Who can serve any purpose by slaying me? And how can I have injured such an one? Such a purposeless act cannot but end in evil. This can never be reckoned as righteous; even like unto violating the chastity of a preceptor's wife. I do not so much lament my end as I lament it on account of my father and mother. To what will the old couple, who have ever been maintained by me, betake themselves when I am gone? My father and mother are old, and I their only son am slain. What boy is it of uncontrolled senses that has killed us all?"

"Hearing his piteous words, I ever anxious to follow virtue, was exceedingly pained, and the bow with its arrow fixed fell down from my hand to the earth. Hearing in the night, the pathetic words of the saint thus lamenting, I became frightened, and was deprived of my senses through excess of grief. And coming to the quarter, I exceedingly unnerved and with an excited mind, discovered on the banks of the Sarayu an ascetic wounded with a shaft, with his matted locks scattered about, his pitcher of water lying by, his body smeared with blood and dust and afflicted by the dart. Gazing with his eyes at me who was extremely agitated and ill at ease, he said these words sternly, as if consuming me with his energy, 'What wrong, O monarch, had I residing in the woods done thee, that coming to procure water for my parents, I have been thus afflicted by thee? By piercing my marrow with a shaft, thou hast slain both my aged and blind father and mother. Surely, they feeble and blind, who afflicted by thirst are remaining in expectation of me, will now bear (the stress and tension of) the expectation as well as the parching thirst. Surely asceticism and study carry no fruit with them, since I lying low on the ground, my father knows nothing about it. And what could he do, even if he knew it, being as he is incapable and unable to go about? One tree cannot rescue another that is being batttered (by the winds). Do thou, O descendant of Raghu, thyself going to my father, speedily inform of him this that has occurred. But take care that like a fire waxing furious consuming a wood, he in his ire do not burn thee. This narrow way, O king, will lead thee unto my father's dwelling. Do thou going there, pacify him, so that getting wroth he may not curse thee. Do thou (now), O king, take out the arrow. Thy sharpened shaft afflicts my marrow, like the tide of a river wearing away a hollow-heaving sand bank.' But touching the extracting of the arrow, this thought perplexed me: 'If the arrow is left alone, it pains; if extracted, death ensues.' As I was distressed, aggrieved and inflicted with sorrow, the son of the ascetic perceived my anxiety. Thereupon that one well versed in the scriptures sinking motionless, with his eyes rolling upwards, and waxing extremely weak, said with difficulty, 'Restraining sorrow, I by dint of patience become calm. Do thou remove from thy mind the grief caused by the consciousness of having slain a Brahmana. O king, I belong not to the twice-born race: let not thy mind be pained. O lord of the foremost men, I was begot by a Vaicya on a Sudra woman.' As he, his vitals afflicted with the shaft, his eyes rolling, inert and trembling on the ground, with his limbs drawn in, was speaking with difficulty, I drew out the arrow. Thereupon, looking at me, the ascetic, growing affrighted, gave up the ghost. On beholding him with his body dripping with water, and mortally wounded, and breathing hard without respite, after he had bewailed his mortal wound, lying on the banks of the Sarayu, I lamented him and was, O gentle lady, greatly aggrieved."

SECTION LXIV.

Remembering the extraordinary death of the Maharshi, that righteous descendant of Raghu, lamenting his son, thus spoke unto Kaucalya, "Having unwittingly commited that great sin, I, with my senses oppressed through grief, thought within myself as to how I could mend it. Then taking up the pitcher filled with excellent water, I went by the way mentioned and (at last) reached the asylum. There I found his aged, infirm, forlorn, parents, without a one to help them in moving about,--like unto birds whose wings have been severed, keeping up a talk about (their son) without experiencing any fatigue, and like helpless ones feeding on a hope which had been blasted by me. My senses overpowered by grief, and my consciousness almost lost through apprehension, I, arrived at the hermitage, was again overwhelmed with sorrow. Hearing my footsteps, the ascetic said, 'Why, my son, delayest thou? Bring the drink at once. Thy mother, O child, was exceedingly anxious in consequence of thy sporting in the waters. Do thou speedily enter the asylum. O child, it behoveth thee not to take to heart any unkind action that, O son, may have been done unto thee of high fame either by thy mother or myself. Thou art the resource of these helpless ones; thou art the eyes of these bereft of their sight. Our lives are bound up with thee. Why dost not answer?' Seeing the ascetic with a choked utterance indistinctly speaking thus with the letters not articulated clearly, I, dashed in spirits, yet concealing the real state of my mind by assuming a doughty tongue, communicated unto him the danger that had beffallen him in consequence of the calamity of his son: 'I am a Kshatria, Dacaratha (by name), and no son of thine, O magnanimous one. I have come by a misfortune in consequence of an act blamed by the good. O revered one, desirous of killing some beast of prey, an elephant (or some other), come to the waters, I went to the banks of the Sarayu bow in hand. Then hearing sounds from the water of a filling pitcher, I thought,--This must be an elephant.--I wounded it with a shaft. Next coming to the edge of the river, I saw an ascetic lying down on the ground almost deprived of life, with his heart pierced with an arrow. Then coming forward, I in accordance with the direction given by him as he lay in agony, suddenly extracted the arrow from his vitals. And as soon as the arrow had been extracted, he ascended heaven, O reverend sir, lamenting and bewailing you, both grown old. It is through ignorance that I suddenly wounded your son. This having been past, do you favor me with telling me what is now to be done, O ascetic.' Having heard these cruel words, the worshipful ascetic could well by his curse consume me to ashes. With eyes flooded with tears, and well nigh deprived of his senses by grief, that highly energetic one said unto me standing with joined hands, 'If, O king, thou hadst not of thyself immediately communicated unto us this unpleasant news, thy head would have been reduced to a thousand flaws. Not to speak of Kshatriyas, I can even drag the very weilder of the thunderbolt himself from his position, if he knowingly kills one, in especial, that has assumed the Vanaprastha mode of life. Thy head would have been severed in seven, if thou hadst discharged the weapon knowingly at such an asectic staying in austerities and versed in the Vedas. It is because thou hast done this through ignorance that thou (still) livest, else the race itself of the Raghavas should be not,--and where art thou?' He then said, 'Do thou, O king, take us to the scene. To day will we look our last on our son besmeared with blood, his deer-skin garb falling off (from his body), lying senseless on the earth, and come under the subjection of the lord of righteousness.' Thereupon I alone taking them exceedingly disconsolate to the spot, made the ascetic and his wife touch their son. And having approached their son and touched him, those ascetics fell on his person, and then his father addressed him thus, 'Thou salutest me not to-day, nor dost thou speak to me. Why, my child, dost thou lie down on the ground? Art thou angry (with us)? If, my son, thou dost not feel kindly to me, do thou look up to thy virtuous mother. And why, O son, dost thou not embrace me? Do a thou speak tender words. At the small hours, from whom engaged in study, shall I hear the scriptures sweetly read in a way coming home to the listener's mind? Who, having performed his daily devotions and offered oblations unto the sacrificial fire, will bathe me, afflicted with grief for my son? And who procuring Kandas, fruits and roots, will feed me like an welcome guest, incapable of doing anything and furnishing provisions, and without any one to take care of myself? And, my son, how will I maintain this blind ascetic mother of thine, proud of her son, who is passing her days in misery? Do thou stay, my son, in my behalf. Tomorrow thou wilt go to Yama's mansion with me and thy mother. Distressed with grief and rendered miserable in the forest, both of us deprived of thee shall soon repair to the abode of Yama. Seeing Vivaswata's son, I will say unto him,--Do thou, O lord of justice, forgive me, and let this my son continue to maintain us, his parents. It behoves thee, O righteous and illustrious guardian of the worlds, to confer on me reduced to such a pass this one enduring _dakshina_ capable of removing our fear.-- Thou, my son, art sinless, although slain by this one who has done an unrighteous act; and by the force of this truth, do thou repair to the world of warriors. Do thou, O son, go the supreme way that is gone by heroes who without turning back from the fight, are slain in open encounter. Do thou, O son, go the way that has been gone by Sagara and Saivya and Dilipa and Janamejaya and Nahusa and Dhundumara. Do thou, O son, go the way that is gone by all creatures! even by ascetics engaged in the study of the Veda, by bestowers of lands, by those performing fire-sacrifices, by individuals each devoted to a single wife, men giving away a thousand kine, persons tending their preceptors, and individuals renouncing lives by fasting. He that is born in such a race cannot come by any evil case. Such a condition be his that has taken the life of thee, my friend.'

"Having thus piteously wept, he along with his wife set about performing the watery rites on behalf of his son. Thereupon speedily assuming a celestial shape, the virtuous son of the ascetic by his own actions ascended heaven in company with Sakra. Then (returning) along with Sakra, the ascetic comforting his aged parents, addressed them, saying, 'I have attained a high state in consequence of having served you. Do you also without delay come unto me.' Having said this, the ascetic's son of restrained senses ascended heaven by means of an excellent and commodious car. Having performed the watery rites, the highly energetic ascetic along with his wife speedily said unto me staying with joined hands, 'Do thou, O monarch, slay me on the instant. I do not grieve to die'--thou hast by thy shaft rendered me who had an only son, absolutely sonless. Since this sorrow arising from the calamity that has befallen my son, is at present mine (through thy instrumentality), I curse thee,--thou shalt even in this way find thy death from grief for thy son. As thou a Kshatriya hast through ignorance slain an ascetic, the sin, O lord of men, of slaying a Brahmana will not envelope thee speedily; but thou shalt shortly come by this dreadful and mortal condition, like a donor of Dakshinas (coming by the things given away).' Having thus inflicted on me the curse and piteously lamented long, the couple ascended the funeral pile and went to heaven. O noble dame, the crime that I hitting by help of sound, had committed in my boyhood, has reverted to my recollection in course of thought. And, O exalted lady, even as a disease generated by one's taking rice with unhealthy curry, this danger is imminent in consequence of that act. O gentle one, the words of that noble- minded person are about to be verified in me." Having said this and weeping, the king said to his wife, "I shall renounce life through grief for my son. And I shall no more behold thee with my eyes. Do thou, O Kaucalya, touch me. People going to the mansion of Yama no more behold (their friends). If Rama touch me directly or otherwise, obtain the exchequer, and be installed as the heir-apparent, meseems, I may yet live. O noble lady, what I have done unto Raghava is not surely like myself; but what (on the other hand) he has done by me is worthy of him. What sensible man forsaketh his son, albeit he may be wicked? And what son being banished, does not bear ill will towards his father? But I do not see thee with my eyes, and my memory fails. These envoys of Vivaswata's son, O Kaucalya, urge speed upon me. What can be an object of greater regret than, that I during my last moments cannot behold the righteous Rama having truth for prowess? Even as the sun drieth up a drop of water, grief for not seeing my son of incomparable acts drieth my spirits. Those are not men--those are gods who in the fifteenth year shall again behold Rama's countenance graced with elegent and burnished ear-rings. O thou of graceful eye-brows, blessed are they who shall behold Rama's countenance furnished with eyes resembling lotus-petals, with excellent teeth and a shapely nose, like unto the lord of the stars himself. Blessed are they that shall behold that fragrant face of his like unto the autumnal moon, or the full-blown lotus. Thrice-blessed they who with delighted hearts, shall behold Rama returned from the forest and come back to Ayodhya, like unto Sukra crowning the zenith? O Kaucalya, my heart is weighed down with grief; and I do not perceive objects of hearing, feeling, or taste. My senses are growing dim in consequence of the mental stupor, like the rays of a lamp reduced to smoke, becoming dim when the oil has been exhausted. As the violence of a river wears away its banks. my grief occasioned through my own agency is destroying me, who am helpless and insensible. O mighty-armed Raghava! O thou remover of my troubles! O thou that dost delight in thy father! thou art my stay, O my son, that hast gone away. O Kaucalya, I do not see. O wretched Sumitra! O cruel one, thou enemy of mine, thou Kaikeyi, who hast befouled thy line!" Having thus lamented in presence of Rama's mother and Sumitra, king Dacaratha breathed his last.

Thus that distressed lord of men, smitten with the exile of his beloved son, that one possessed of a gracious presence, when the night had been half spent, wrought up with the violence of his emotion, departed this life.

SECTION LXV.

When the night had gone away, on the morning of the next day, eulogists, accomplished bards, genealogists skilled in reciting, and singers versed in musical permutation, presenting themselves at the place of the sovereign, began to perform separately. And as they eulogized the monarch with benedictions loudly uttered, the palace resounded with the sounds of the eulogies. And as the bards hymned the monarch, palm-players celebrating the deeds of the kings of the Raghu race, began to play with their palms. And awakened by those sounds, birds on boughs and in cages worthy of the royal race, uttered notes. And the sacred words uttered (by these), the notes of _Vinas_, and the valedictory songs of singers filled that mansion. And as on former occasions, men practising purity and well up in serving, with numerous women and eunuchs entered appearance. Persons acquainted with the ceremonials connected with bath, according to the ordinance and in due time, in golden vessels brought water impregnated with _hari-_ sandal powder. Pure females together with many virgins brought kine &c, which were to be touched, Ganges water for sipping, mirrors, cloths, ornaments and other articles. All the things that were procured (for presentation unto the monarch) were worshipped in accordance with prescription, were furnished with auspicious marks, and were of excellent virtues and possessed of auspiciousness. As long as the sun did not rise, all these people remained expecting the presence of the king; but then they were alarmed as to what had occurred.

Those ladies that were beside the bed of the lord of Kocala, were consoling their husband. And engaged in tending the monarch with mild and pliant words, those females knowing the condition of sleep, feeling him as he lay in his bed, did not perceive any action in the ever-moving pulse. Thereupon apprehensive for the king's life, they began to tremble like a blade of grass on a torrent. Filled with doubts at sight of the king, the ladies at last concluded that what had been apprehended (by the monarch) had certainly taken place. Overcome by grief for their sons, Sumitra and Kaucalya were sleeping as if they were dead, and had not yet awaked. Deprived of lustre, pallid, stricken by sorrow, and lying with her limbs contracted, Kaucalya looked like a star enveloped in darkness. And after Kaucalya, the king, and after him, Sumitra; and with her countenance faded from grief, this noble lady did not look particularly lovely. Finding these two ladies asleep and the king seeming as if sleeping, the inmates of the inner apartment showed themselves as if their lives had departed out of them. Thereupon exceedingly distressed, those paragons of their sex, like she-elephants in the forest deprived of their leader of the herd, broke out into wailing. At the sounds of their lamentations, bpth Kaucalya and Sumitra suddenly regaining consciousness, awoke from their sleep. And Kaucalya and Sumitra looking at the king and feeling him, felt down to the earth, exclaiming, "Ah lord." As the daughter of Kocala's lord rolled on the ground, she covered with dust did not appear in all her loveliness, like a star fallen from the sky to the earth below. And when the king had departed this life, the women saw Kaucalya fallen on the earth like the slain mate of an elephant. Then all the wives of the monarch headed by Kaikeyi, burning with grief and weeping, were well nigh rendered senseless. And the loud sounds emitted by these, mingling with those (who had been lamenting before them), attained greater proportions and filled the hall. And the mansion of the king became filled with people exceedingly excited and frightened, eager to know all about the matter,--became filled with lamentations, with friends afflicted with distress, its joy instantaneously vanished--a scene of distress and dole. Knowing that the lord of earth had departed, his wives surrounding that illustrious one, smitten with excess of sorrow and weeping bitterly and piteously, holding the king's hands indulged in lamentations, like forlorn ones.

SECTION LXVI.