The Rámáyan of Válmíki, translated into English verse

science refuses to accept such explanations; and consequently it is impossible to escape the conclusion that if Válmíki composed the Rámáyana in the form of Sanskrit in which it has been preserved, he could not have flourished in the same age as the sages who are named in the Rig-Veda.” WHEELER’S _History of India, Vol._ II, 229. Page 249. _And King Himálaya’s Child._ Umá or Párvatí, was the daughter of Himálaya and Mená. She is the heroine of Kálidása’s _Kumára-Sambhava_ or _Birth of the War-God_. Page 250. _Strong Kumbhakarṇa slumbering deep_ _In chains of never-ending sleep._ “Kumbhakarṇa, the gigantic brother of the titanic Rávaṇ,—named from the size of his ears which could contain a _Kumbha_ or large water-jar—had such an appetite that he used to consume six months’ provisions in a single day. Brahmá, to relieve the alarm of the world, which had begun to entertain serious apprehensions of being eaten up, decreed that the giant should sleep six months at a time and wake for only one day during which he might consume his six months’ allowance without trespassing unduly on the reproductive capabilities of the ” _Scenes front the Rámáyan_, p. 153, 2nd Edit. Page 257. _Like Śiva when his angry might_ _Stayed Daksha’s sacrificial rite._ The following spirited version of this old story is from the pen of Mr. W. Waterfield: “This is a favorite subject of Hindú sculpture, especially on the temples of Shiva, such as the caves of Elephanta and Ellora. It, no doubt, is an allegory of the contest between the followers of Shiva and the worshippers of the Elements, who observed the old ritual of the Vedas; in which the name of Shiva is never mentioned. Daksha for devotion Made a mighty feast: Milk and curds and butter, Flesh of bird and beast, Rice and spice and honey, Sweetmeats ghí and gur,(1038) Gifts for all the Bráhmans, Food for all the poor. At the gates of Gangá(1039) Daksha held his feast; Called the gods unto it, Greatest as the least. All the gods were gathered Round with one accord; All the gods but Umá, All but Umá’s lord. Umá sat with Shiva On Kailása hill: Round them stood the Rudras Watching for their will. Who is this that cometh Lilting to his lute? All the birds of heaven Heard his music, mute. Round his head a garland Rich of hue was wreathed: Every sweetest odour From its blossoms breathed. ’Tis the Muni Nárad; ’Mong the gods he fares, Ever making mischief By the tales he bears. “Hail to lovely Umá! Hail to Umá’s lord! Wherefore are they absent For her father’s board? Multiplied his merits Would be truly thrice, Could he gain your favour For his sacrifice.” Worth of heart was Umá; To her lord she spake:— “Why dost thou, the mighty, Of no rite partake? Straight I speed to Daksha Such a sight to see: If he be my father, He must welcome thee.” Wondrous was in glory Daksha’s holy rite; Never had creation Viewed so brave a sight. Gods, and nymphs, find fathers, Sages, Bráhmans, sprites,— Every diverge creature Wrought that rite of rites. Quickly then a quaking Fell on all from far; Umá stood among them On her lion car. “Greeting, gods and sages, Greeting, father mine! Work hath wondrous virtue, Where such aids combine. Guest-hall never gathered Goodlier company: Seemeth all are welcome. All the gods but me.” Spake the Muni Daksha, Stern and cold his tone:— “Welcome thou, too, daughter, Since thou com’st alone. But thy frenzied husband Suits another shrine; He is no partaker Of this feast of mine. He who walks in darkness Loves no deeds of light: He who herds with demons Shuns each kindly sprite. Let him wander naked.— Wizard weapons wield,— Dance his frantic measure Round the funeral field. Art thou yet delighted With the reeking hide, Body smeared with ashes. Skulls in necklace tied? Thou to love this monster? Thou to plead his part! Know the moon and Gangá Share that faithless heart Vainly art thou vying With thy rivals’ charms. Are not coils of serpents Softer than thine arms?” Words like these from Daksha Daksha’s daughter heard: Then a sudden passion All her bosom stirred. Eyes with fury flashing. Speechless in her ire, Headlong did she hurl her ’Mid the holy fire. Then a trembling terror Overcame each one, And their minds were troubled Like a darkened sun; And a cruel Vision, Face of lurid flame, Umá’s Wrath incarnate, From the altar came. Fiendlike forms by thousands Started from his side, ’Gainst the sacrificers All their might they plied: Till the saints availed not Strength like theirs to stay, And the gods distracted Turned and fled away. Hushed were hymns and chanting, Priests were mocked and spurned; Food defiled and scattered; Altars overturned.— Then, to save the object Sought at such a price, Like a deer in semblance Sped the sacrifice. Soaring toward the heavens, Through the sky it fled? But the Rudras chasing Smote away its head. Prostrate on the pavement Daksha fell dismayed:— “Mightiest, thou hast conquered Thee we ask for aid. Let not our oblations All be rendered vain; Let our toilsome labour Full fruition gain.” Bright the broken altars Shone with Shiva’s form; “Be it so!” His blessing Soothed that frantic storm. Soon his anger ceases, Though it soon arise;— But the Deer’s Head ever Blazes in the skies.” _Indian Ballads and other Poems._ Page 286. Urvasí. “The personification of Urvasî herself is as thin as that of Eôs or Selênê. Her name is often found in the Veda as a mere name for the morning, and in the plural number it is used to denote the dawns which passing over men bring them to old age and death. Urvasî is the bright flush of light overspreading the heaven before the sun rises, and is but another form of the many mythical beings of Greek mythology whose names take us back to the same idea or the same root. As the dawn in the Vedic hymns is called Urûkî, the far-going (Têlephassa, Têlephos), so is she also Uruasî, the wide-existing or wide-spreading; as are Eurôpê, Euryanassa, Euryphassa, and many more of the sisters of Athênê and Aphroditê. As such she is the mother of Vasishtha, the bright being, as Oidipous is the son of Iokastê; and although Vasishtha, like Oidipous, has become a mortal bard or sage, he is still the son of Mitra and Varuṇa, of night and day. Her lover Purûravas is the counterpart of the Hellenic Polydeukês; but the continuance of her union with him depends on the condition that she never sees him unclothed. But the Gandharvas, impatient of her long sojourn among mortal men resolved to bring her back to their bright home; and Purûravas is thus led unwitingly to disregard her warning. A ewe with two lambs was tied to her couch, and the Gandharvas stole one of them; Urvasî said, ‘They take away my darling, as if I lived in a land where there is no hero and no man.’ They stole the second, and she upbraided her husband again. Then Purûravas looked and said, ‘How can that be a land without heroes or men where I am?’ And naked he sprang up; he thought it was too long to put on his dress. Then the Gandharvas sent a flash of lighting, and Urvasî saw her husband naked as by daylight. Then she vanished. ‘I come back,’ she said, and went. ‘Then he bewailed his vanished love in bitter grief.’ Her promise to return was fulfilled, but for a moment only, at the Lotos-lake, and Purûravas in vain beseeches her to tarry longer. ‘What shall I do with thy speech?’ is the answer of Urvasî. ‘I am gone like the first of the dawns. Purûravas, go home again. I am hard to be caught like the winds.’ Her lover is in utter despair; but when he lies down to die, the heart of Urvasî was melted, and she bids him come to her on the last night of the year. On that night only he might be with her; but a son should be born to him. On that day he went up to the golden seats, and there Urvasî told him that the Gandharvas would grant him one wish, and that he must make his choice. ‘Choose thou for me,’ he said: and she answered, ‘Say to them, Let me be one of you.’ ” COX’S _Mythology of the Aryan Nations._ Vol. I. p. 397. Page 324. _The sovereign of the Vánar race._ “Vánar is one of the most frequently occurring names by which the poem calls the monkeys of Ráma’s army. Among the two or three derivations of which the word Vánar is susceptible, one is that which deduces it from vana which signifies a wood, and thus Vánar would mean a forester, an inhabitant of the wood. I have said elsewhere that the monkeys, the Vánars, whom Ráma led to the conquest of Ceylon were fierce woodland tribes who occupied the mountainous regions of the south of India, where their descendants may still be seen. I shall hence forth promiscuously employ the word _Vánar_ to denote those monkeys, those fierce combatants of Ráma’s army.” GORRESIO. Page 326. _No change of hue, no pose of limb_ _Gave sign that aught was false in him._ _Concise, unfaltering, sweet and clear,_ _Without a word to pain the ear,_ _From chest to throat, nor high nor low,_ _His accents came in measured flow._ Somewhat similarly in _The Squire’s Tale_: “He with a manly voice said his message, After the form used in his language, Withouten vice of syllable or of letter. And for his talë shouldë seem the better Accordant to his wordës was his chere, As teacheth art of speech them that it lere.” Page 329. Ráma’s Alliance With Sugríva. “The literal interpretation of this portion of the Rámáyana is indeed deeply rooted in the mind of the Hindu. He implicitly believes that Ráma is Vishnu, who became incarnate for the purpose of destroying the demon Rávana: that he permitted his wife to be captured by Rávana for the sake of delivering the gods and Bráhmans from the oppressions of the Rákshasa; and that he ultimately assembled an army of monkeys, who were the progeny of the gods, and led them against the strong-hold of Rávana at Lanká, and delivered the world from the tyrant Rákshasa, whilst obtaining ample revenge for his own personal wrongs. One other point seems to demand consideration, namely, the possibility of such an alliance as that which Ráma is said to have concluded with the monkeys. This possibility will of course be denied by modern critics, but still it is interesting to trace out the circumstances which seem to have led to the acceptance of such a wild belief by the dreamy and marvel loving Hindi. The south of India swarms with monkeys of curious intelligence and rare physical powers. Their wonderful instinct for organization, their attachment to particular localities, their occasional journeys in large numbers over mountains and across rivers, their obstinate assertion of supposed rights, and the ridiculous caricature which they exhibit of all that is animal and emotional in man, would naturally create a deep impression.… Indeed the habits of monkeys well deserve to be patiently studied; not as they appear in confinement, when much that is revolting in their nature is developed, but as they appear living in freedom amongst the trees of the forest, or in the streets of crowded cities, or precincts of temples. Such a study would not fail to awaken strange ideas; and although the European would not be prepared to regard monkeys as sacred animals he might be led to speculate as to their origin by the light of data, which are at present unknown to the naturalist whose observations have been derived from the menagerie alone. Whatever, however, may have been the train of ideas which led the Hindú to regard the monkey as a being half human and half divine, there can be