महावीरचरितम् (महाकवि भवभूति - वीररस-प्रधान रामकथा नाटक सम्पूर्ण ७ अङ्क सटीक)

ii. 6¹—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [34
Vāsantī, with apprehension, to herself—How! 'only the name of thee now
remains behind,' she says! Aloud. What calamity then, noble lady, has
befallen the Queen Sītā?
Ātreyī—Not a mere calamity but a calumny to boot! In her ear [whispers]
so and so.
Vāsantī—Alas! A cruel stroke of destiny! Faints.
Ātreyī—Compose yourself, gentle lady, compose yourself.
Vāsantī—Alas, my loving friend [Sītā]! Thou Fortune's favourite! That
such should be the lot of thy life!! Rāma, dear! Dear Rāma!—Or rather
I have had quite too much of thee. But, I say, honoured Ātreyī, after
Lakshmaṇa's departure from that forest where he had left her, what
became of Queen Sītā? Is there any tidings as to that?
Ātreyī—No, not the least.
Vāsantī—Woe and alas! And when Arundhatī and Vasishṭha were guardians
to the scions of the Raghu-race—[even] in the [very] life-time of the aged
Queen-mothers—how was this suffered to happen?
Ātreyī—In Ṛishyaśṛiṅga's hermitage the elders were then living. Now
[however] that twelve-year [long] session [of the sacrifice] has come to an
end; and Ṛishyaśṛiṅga, after paying them the [customary] honours, has
bidden the elders (guru) farewell. Then spake the exalted Arundhatī,—
'I will not return to Ayodhyā if our daughter-in-law [Sītā] is not there';
to this too Rāma's Queen-mothers assented; and in compliance with that
the exalted Vasishṭha uttered his holy word to the effect that they should
[all] repair unto Vālmīki's penance-grove and there abide.
Vāsantī—And the King¹—what is he doing now?
Ātreyī—The King has now undertaken a horse-sacrifice.
Vāsantī—Oh, fie! Has he even married [again]?
Ātreyī—No, Heaven forfend, no!
Vāsantī—Who then is there to participate in the religious offices² connected
with the sacrifice?
Ātreyī—A golden image of Sītā.
Vāsantī—Ha!—Really?
Than even an adamant, harder; softer than even a flower: the
minds of those that tower above the common sort—who is there
that can [ever] fathom [them]? 7
Ātreyī—And the sacrificial horse has been let loose consecrated by [sage]
Vāmadeva;³ and for [the horse] have been assigned, agreeably to the
Shastras (Scriptures) the [proper number of] guards, and at the head of
¹ She would not call him 'Rāma dear' now. monies.
² The wife took part in all religious cere- ³ Who officiated in the absence of Vasishṭha.

35] Act II, Daṇḍakā Revisited — Translation [—ii. 9²
these is commissioned the son of Lakshmaṇa, Chandraketu by name, who
has been initiated into the [traditional] knowledge of celestial missiles and
who is leading an army [fully] equipped in all its four divisions (aṅga).¹
Vāsantī, in curiosity and with tears of affection—Even Prince Lakshmaṇa
has a son, and I, O mother, am [still] living [to see it]!
Ātreyī—Meantime a Brahman lays down his dead son at the royal gate and
beating his breast proclaims that an outrage has been committed against
a Brahman. Then, since in the absence of some failing of the king himself
no untimely death can overtake any one of his people, our dear Rāma
mournfully began to examine [his past conduct to diseover] some fault of
his own: when all of a sudden an incorporeal voice broke forth—
'Tis Śambūka by name—a Śūdra—who on [this] earth is practising
penance. His head it behoves thee, O Rāma, to cut off: by killing
him bring thou the Brahman [boy] to life. 8
Hearing this, sword in hand and mounting his aerial car, Pushpaka,² the
Lord of the World [Rāma] has [now], in search of that Śūdra aseetic, begun
to traverse all the cardinal and intermediate points.
Vāsantī—A Śūdra, Śambūka by name, who inhales the smoke,³—in this
very Janasthāna does he practise penance. Can it then be that Rāma
dear⁴ will once again grace this forest [by his presence]?
Ātreyī—Kind lady, let me go now.
Vāsantī—So be it, honoured Ātreyī; for, the day has grown oppressive—
As the itching elephants⁵ rub their rounded temples against them,
[the trees] shaken violently shower down their flowers, [already]
through heat loosened from the stalks, and [with this shower] pay
[their midday] offering [as it were] to the [river] Godāvarī.
In their shade [are] these birds that, as they scrape [for food],
peck with their beak and drag forth insects [hidden] under the
bark; [perched] on their [tops are] these troops of fine pigeons
and [wild] fowl cooing [in languor]: such [now], along this
bank, are [all] these nesting-trees. 9
They move about and exeunt [severally].
END OF INTERLUDE.
¹ Elephants, horses, chariots, and foot-soldiers.
² Lit. '[light as] a flower'. It came into Rāma's possession after the victory of Laṅkā. The car was as swift as the mind, and obeyed automatically all the wishes of the rider.
³ By hanging from a tree head downwards.
⁴ He has become 'Rāma dear' again!
⁵ Their temples itch when they are in rut.

ii. 9³—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [36
Then enters Rāma in his Pushpaka, raised sword in hand,
and full of compassion.
Rāma—O my right hand, for the revival of the Brahman's dead son
do thou hurl at [this] Śūdra ascetic thy sword! Thou art a
member of Rāma's [body]—[of that Rāma] who found it easy
(paṭu) to send away Sītā, [although she was] languishing with
[the weight of] the burden she bore:¹ Compassion—how can it be
thine? 10
Reluctantly striking. Done is a deed worthy [only] of a Rāma! May it be
that the Brahman boy will now come to life?
A Celestial Person, entering—Victory, victory unto Your Majesty!
With you, rod in hand [to mete out punishment and] to grant
immunity even from the Lord of Death, revived is that boy and
mine hath been this glory: This is Śambūka with his head
bowing at your feet. Coming from contact with the good even
death brings salvation! 11
Rāma—Both [the events] please us [equally]. May you now enjoy the
reward of your fierce penances!—
Where there is all bliss and delight—wherein through merit [alone]
is [a person] born: may those realms of light—Vairāja as they
are called—be yours for ever! 12
Śambūka—It is your gracious feet that have brought me this greatness.
What has my penance to do in the matter? Or rather [I should say]
a mighty boon has my penance conferred upon me:
You are the One to be sought after in this world—the Lord of
men, their [supreme] refuge; [and you] in search of me—this mere
Śūdra—have over hundreds of leagues traversed, and come
[hither]: This great favour it is my penance that hath conferred
upon me; were it otherwise, from the [distant] Ayodhyā what
possibility was there of your coming once more to this forest of
Daṇḍakā? 13
Rāma—What! Is this indeed Daṇḍakā? Looking in all directions. Yes,
indeed!
Mild and shady in some places, in others harsh in [the immensity
of] their frightful expanse; here and there filling the quarters with
the roar of their gushing streams: these, interspersed with forests,
¹ This indicates that even after the lapse of mourns as bitterly as ever. Compare
twelve years Rāma is still haunted by also iii. 3⁶.
the memory of his wife, whose loss he

37] Act II, Daṇḍakā Revisited — Translation [—ii. 19²
abounding in [holy] bathing-places and hermitages and moun-
tains and rivers—[they] appear to be, familiar as they have been
to me, the [same old] regions belonging to the wilderness of
Daṇḍakā. 14
Śambūka—Surely this is Daṇḍakā; and—as I have learnt—by Your
Majesty when formerly living here—
Fourteen thousand Demons, frightful in their deeds, and the three;
Dūshaṇa,¹ Khara, and Trimūrdhan, in battle were slain. 15
And hence it was that in such a saintly resort—in this Janasthāna—even
timid persons like me could roam at will, apprehending danger from
nowhere.
Rāma—So, not merely Daṇḍakā, but this is even Janasthāna?
Śambūka—Assuredly: For, smiting all creatures with horror—hosts of
furious and savage beasts infesting [all] its inaccessible mountain-recesses—
there in sooth are those extensive forests outlying the skirts of Janasthāna
and stretching [from there] towards the south. For—
Noiseless and [profoundly] silent in places; in places resounding
to the roarings of ferocious beasts; huge and horrible serpents,
stretched out in repose, making with their [fiery] breath [the
whole forest] ablaze: these [indeed] are those bordering regions
having [very] little water flashing in their clefts, so that the
thirsty lizards [must] drink the sweat exuded by [mighty]
pythons! 16
Rāma—I do [indeed] behold Janasthāna, once the abode of [the demon]
Khara; and as if [happening] just before my eyes those former
events I do now experience! 17
Looking carefully all around. Yes (hi): And the daughter of the King of
Videha [my Sītā] always loved these woodlands (ārāma). Here, to be
sure, are those [very] forests: Than this can anything be more terrible?
With tears.
'With thee will I dwell in those dales where the scents are sweet'
—[this was her thought, and] with that alone here was she
happy—such was her love [for me]! 18
Though doing nothing, by the very joy [of being together] we
chase away all sorrow: Indeed it is a treasure indescribable when
some one has some one to love. 19
Śambūka—Let us, if you please (tad), turn away from these impenetrable
[forests]. But here are these others,—studded with hills that wear the soft
tinge of a lusty and tuneful peacock's throat—decked with clusters of
¹ For the names see Introduction, § 18, H and I.

ii. 19²—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [38
young trees thickly planted and yielding an ample and bluish shade—with
the numerous herds of deer fearlessly [roaming about] : let the noble one
[now] look at these, these serene and awe-inspiring central forests :
Here, as the [youth-]intoxicated birds invade the vānīra creepers,
the flowers [dropping down into the rillets] suffuse with fragrance
their cool and limpid waters;—as the jambū clusters, darkling
with the load of ripening fruit, impede [the rillets in] their
path, their [broken] currents incessantly murmur : thus do these
[mountain-]rillets glide along. 20
Furthermore—
Here, of the young bears that have their lairs in [these] caverns,
the spluttered growls (ambūkṛita) become augmented by the
echoes that they send forth; [and] cool and bitter and pungent as
it is, the exuding fragrance of the śallakī¹ branches, torn from
their joints and scattered about by [rutting] elephants, is [also]
augmented. 21
Rāma, stemming [the flow] of his tears—Friend, happy be your path!
May you attain the Course celestial,² leading you on to the Realms of
the holy!
Śambūka—Meantime I shall do my homage to the ancient Brahman sage,
[the venerable] Agastya, before I enter the Abode eternal. Goes out.
Rāma—This, once more, is that same, same forest that to-day
I behold, [the forest] wherein formerly for many many days we
lived [together], as foresters and as householders, duly discharged
our [several] duties, [and] knew the taste of [all] the charms
of life. 22
Here are those selfsame mountains alive with the cries of
peacocks—these the same wooded ridges full of the lustily sportive
deer. Here again, vocal with [the rustlings of] the lovely vañjula
creepers, are those same river-banks densely fringed with the
sable nichula [trees]. 23
And this here that, like a range of clouds, one can well make out
even from a distance—this is the mountain Prasravaṇa, where is
the river Godāvarī. 24
It was on the mighty crest of this very [mountain] that the king
of vultures [Jaṭāyus] had his abode; and at its foot we likewise
found our comfort in those leafy cottages. The waters of the
¹ A tree the twigs of which form the favourite so the exudations of śallakī intensify the
food of wild elephants. The idea is, as pungent smell of the elephants' rut.
the caverns deepen the growls of bears, ² See Note to the passage.

39] Act II, Daṇḍakā Revisited — Translation [—ii. 28³
Godāvarī reflecting the glory of its sombre trees and the birds
filling the skies with their incessant warblings—such is this
charming woodland [scenery]. 25
And even here is that Pañchavaṭī every spot in which can bear witness,
in the course of our long residence, to those manifold expressions of
unreserved endearments, and where my dear wife’s dear friend, Vāsantī,
[has her abode]. What then is this that has to-day befallen this Rāma?
For now—
Like the virulent essence of some poison [dormant hitherto but
now] after such a long time diffusing itself all over and causing
spasms [of acute pain]--like the splinter of an arrow [imbedded
in flesh and smarting now] as when, from some cause or other,
it is violently shaken—like a [festering] ulcer overgrown with
flesh [on the outside but] bursting open in the very vitals of the
heart—even so my [long and so to say] solidified grief [now]
unmans me as would a recent [grief]. 26
Still, these friends of old—these landscapes here—I will see. Looking [more]
closely. Ha! How changed [now] is the aspect of this region!—
Where once was the stream [itself], there now are the sands of
the rivers; of the sprouting trees (kshiti-ruh) the denseness and
the sparseness have exchanged places:¹ This forest, seen after
[such] a long time, seems to me like another [forest]—only the
unaltered position of the mountains confirms the idea that it is
the same! 27
Alas! Though trying to avoid it, my attachment to Pañchavaṭī forcibly
draws me, as it were, towards it. With pathos—
[That Pañchavaṭī] wherein, in that [blissful] manner, those days
with her I passed, and later, in our home, with long talks about
which [Pañchavaṭī] we constantly whiled away our time: alone,
now, after being the cause of the loss of his dear [wife], how
should Rāma, sinful as he is, visit that very same Pañchavaṭī, or
how pass on regardless of it? 28
Śambūka, entering—Victory unto Your Majesty! The exalted Agastya
hearing from me of your presence [here], sends this word unto you:—
‘Having in readiness all the auspicious preparations for your welcome,
the kindly Lopāmudrā awaits you, as do also all the sages [in our
neighbourhood]. Come then: honour us [with your visit]. With your
swift Pushpaka you can thereafter return to your country in time for the
horse-sacrifice.’
¹ I. e. where the trees were dense, now they are sparse, and vice versa.

ii. 28⁴—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [40
Rāma—As the exalted [Agastya] commands.
Śambūka—Let Your Majesty then turn the Pushpaka this way.¹
Rāma—O Pañchavaṭī [of] revered [memory]! Being constrained by [this
call from] those to whom deference is due (guru), for a while let this
transgression of Rāma be forgiven [him].
Śambūka—Behold, Sire, behold!—
[These clumps here—] when in the tiny-nests (kuṭīra) within
their bushes the flocks (ghaṭā) of owls do hoot—they constrain the
troops of rooks² to silence: these vast stretches (āḍambara) of
the melodious (guñjat) bamboo-clumps (stambha) [growing on]
this mountain called Krauñchāvata; [this mountain] wherein
[also] are to be seen—frightened by the cries of the hovering
(prachalat) peacocks—these snakes² climbing in fear around the
trunks of ancient sandal trees. 29
Furthermore,—
These here, with their caverns rumbling and roaring with the
torrents (vāri) of the Godāvarī³—the clouds overhanging their
blue and towering peaks—[these] are the lofty Southern ranges.
[Here likewise—] with mutual clashings overwhelmed and surging
with the tumult of their noisily dashing billows—here are the
confluences of these holy and fathomless streams. 30
Exeunt both.
END OF ACT II
CALLED
DAṆḌAKA REVISITED.
¹ It would seem that throughout the act peacocks. Snakes are inordinately fond
Rāma was in his aerial car, though it is of sweet-smelling sandal trees.
not a necessary supposition. See Notes ³ It is not possible to reproduce in translation
for further discussion of the point. the alliteration of the original. It suggests
² Rooks fear the owls as snakes fear the Southey's ‘Lodore’.

ACT III
Then enter two River[-goddesses].
First [River-goddess]—Friend Muralā, why do you seem to be in a [great]
flurry?
Muralā—Honoured Tamasā! I am sent by the exalted Agastya's wife—
Lopāmudrā—to say unto the great river Godāvarī as follows: “You already
know that ever since [Rāma] abandoned our daughter-in-law [Sītā]—
Through the imperturbable gravity [of his nature] carrying
concealed within [himself] commotions of intense agony, like an
iron-vessel-closed-and-boiling (puṭapāka) is the impassioned grief
that Rāma is enduring. 1
So that, born out of that misfortune which befell one that was so dear to
him, his long-continued sorrow, now [wellnigh] coming to a climax, has
made dear Rāma sadly pine away. As I look upon him my heart seems
as if trembling to its [very] root! Now, furthermore, as dear Rāma has
once again come here, he would certainly not fail to see these spots in the
woodlands of the Pañchavaṭī that could speak to him (sākshin) of those
unreserved endearments that he had had in the company of his wife.
And in those [spots], firm by nature though he be, still—under such
conditions—through the overwhelming emotions of a sorrow settled-and-
profound, at every step, it is to be feared, would arise occasions for great
mishaps. Do you, therefore, O exalted Godāvarī, be watchful about it:
With breezes borne over [your] waves and surcharged with
cooling sprays and wafting along the perfumes of [your] lotus-
filaments—every time dear Rāma sinks-under-his-grief (mohe)—
do you [O Godāvarī] his senses revive, gently, gently fanning
him.” 2
Tamasā—This assiduous-care is worthy indeed of the affection [Lopāmudrā
bears for Rāma]; but for dear Rāma's revival, the only-natural-remedy-
that-there-is (maulika), is here at hand to-day.
Muralā—How so?
Tamasā—Listen. You-may-not-perhaps-know (kila) that, after abandoning
her in the outskirts of Vālmīki's penance-grove, when Lakshmaṇa went
back, Queen Sītā—as travail came upon her—in the very vehemence of
6 [H.O.S. 21]

iii. 2⁵—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [42
her pangs, threw herself into the stream of the Ganges; and then, even
there, she was delivered of a pair of sons. She was then comforted by
[her mother] Earth and the river Jāhnavī¹ [Ganges] and by them taken
to the Nether regions. Then as the twins [grew of an age to be] weaned,
them the Goddess [of the] Ganges handed over in person to the son of
Varuṇa, to the great sage [Vālmīki].
Muralā, with amazement—
Of such [as Rāma and Sītā] even an [adverse] turn [of fate]
proves to be full of miracles, in that even persons [as exalted] as
these [the Earth and the Bhāgīrathī] serve as instruments [to
their ends]. 3
Tamasā—And now, in consequence of this affair of Śambūka, [Bhāgīrathī]
being led to anticipate, through the [river] Sarayū's² report, that Rāma
would come hither to Janasthāna, and, what the exalted Lopāmudrā out
of affection [for Rāma] apprehended, apprehensive of the same, the exalted
Bhāgīrathī, in the company of Sītā and under pretext of some household
rite or other, has come here on a visit to the Godāvarī.³
Muralā—This is a happy thought of the exalted [Bhāgīrathī]. For when
indeed [he is] stationed in his capital and engrossed in all those activities
conducive to the world's progress, it is possible to keep dear Rāma's mind
away [from his grief⁴]; whereas [now] with nothing [else] to occupy
[his thoughts] and face-to-face-with naught but his sorrow, this his
revisiting of the Pañchavaṭī [will be] an unfailing source of mischief.
But how—as-things-stand (idānīm)—is Queen Sītā going to comfort
Rāma?
Tamasā—Thus spake [unto Sītā] the exalted Goddess Bhāgīrathī: “My
child, thou that hast sprung from the [very] sacrificial ground of the
Gods, Sītā! To-day, as-you-know (khalu), it being the twelfth birthday of
the long-lived ones—of [our] Kuśa and Lava—for their ensuing prosperity
(abhivardhate) we must tie the auspicious twelfth (saṅkhyā) knot.⁵ There-
fore, unto thy ancient Father-in-law, the Progenitor of all this race of
Royal sages beginning with Manu,⁶ [I mean] unto the God Sun, the dispeller

¹ When Bhagīratha brought down the Ganges                  ³ A physical fact, believed even now to occur
    (cp. p. 21, note 6, above), the river in its                           at stated intervals : see Notes.
    course washed the sacrificial sheds of                       ⁴ Or, it is quite possible to keep dear Rāma's
    Jahnu, who in anger drank it all up. At                        mind from running off [to the one subject
    Bhagīratha's intercession he let the river                      that harrows him].
    out again through his ears. Hence the                       ⁵ A thread tied around the wrist or the arm,
    name Jāhnavī.                                                            one knot being added each succeeding
² A tributary of the Ganges: Ayodhyā,                          birthday.
    Rāma's capital, is situated on it, and so                       ⁶ The seventh of his name, Son of the Sun,
    the river knew what happened in that                        and founder of the Solar race of kings.
    city.

43] Act III, The Shadow — Translation [—iii. 6ᵈ
of all that is evil, do thou, with flowers collected by thy own hands, pay thy
homage. And as thou wilt tread the surface of the earth—through my
sure contrivance (prabhāva)—not even deities shall [be able to] see thee,
still less mortals." [Likewise] thus was I commanded : "Tamasā, for you
this daughter of Janaka, this [our] dear daughter-in-law, has already con-
ceived a great affection; do you, therefore, yourself keep her company."
Accordingly I am now going to do what I am bidden.
Muralā—And I for my part will [now] unto the exalted Lopāmudrā
convey this news. Dear Rāma, I think, is just coming here.
Tamasā—And here is she, issuing from the deep basin of the Godāvarī—
With her face lovely even in the [very] paleness of its emaciated
cheeks and with the braid of hair all dishevelled¹—the very
image of Pathos² or like Grief-of-separation incarnate : so unto
the woodland goes this daughter of Janaka. 4
Muralā—And this to-be-sure (hi) is she!
Her long and remorseless sorrow, parching up the flower of her
heart, withers away her body [which is] like a tender sprout torn
from its stalk, and all pale and emaciated—as does the autumnal
heat the inmost petal of a ketakī flower. 5
Both walk about and go out.
END OF INTERLUDE.
[Voice,] behind the curtain—O how unfortunate, how unfortunate!
Then enters Sītā busied in collecting flowers and listening with
pathetic eagerness.
Sītā—Ha! I know it is my dear friend Vāsantī that is speaking.
[Voice,] behind the curtain—
That youngling of an elephant who was [fed] formerly by Queen
Sītā with tender śallakī leaves gathered by her own hands, fed as
he stood before her fond and expectant— 6 a, b
Sītā—[And] what of him ?
[Same Voice,] behind the curtain once more—
he, sporting in the water in the company of his mate, is busily
engaged in combat by a mighty leader of another herd of tuskers,
who has in wanton-pride (darpa) assailed him. 6 c, d
¹ A woman in separation does not plait her hair.
² Here, as in several other places, the word Pathos is used in a technical sense. Pathos is one of the eight or nine or ten
sentiments that, according to Hindu writers on Rhetoric, should pervade a
poetic composition.

iii. 6¹—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [44
Sītā, in flurry advancing a few steps—To his succour, Noble my Lord,
to the succour of my fondling! Recollecting, and with dejection. Alas,
alas! Those same long-familiar words, at the sight of [this] Pañchavaṭī,
come up to my lips—unhappy that I am! Alas, my noble Lord! Swoons.
Tamasā, entering—Look up! Courage, my child!
[Voice,] behind the curtain—[Stay,] thou best of aerial cars, stay right
here!
Sītā, recovering, with trepidations of joy—Ha! Like a swollen rain-
cloud’s tremulous roar, deep and massive, whence now is this thrilling
voice which, as it fills the hollows of my ears, quickly brings even me, the
luckless one, back to life?
Tamasā, with a tearful smile—What now, my darling?
At this sound, indistinct and coming thou knowest not whence,
here art thou standing thus startled and eager—as might a pea-
hen at a thundering cloud! 7
Sītā—‘Indistinct’—does your ladyship say? [No.] By the tone of voice
I do recognize that it is my noble Lord himself who is saying this.
Tamasā—It has [indeed] come to our ears that, for laying chastisement
upon a Śūdra practising penance, the Royal descendant of Ikshvāku has
come to Janasthāna.
Sītā—It is happy that [he] fails not in [the discharge of] his kingly
duties—the King!
[Voice,] behind the curtain—
Where trees no less than the deer were my comrades; where long
in the company of my beloved I have stayed: here, along the margin
of the Godāvarī, are those very same mountain-slopes with many
a cave and waterfall. 8
Sītā, observing—Alas! How now? [Is this then,] like the orb of the
moon at daybreak, wan and weak and wasted in his look, and only
through his own proper mild and serene grandeur recognizable—is this
then none other than my noble Lord? [Honoured Tamasā] lend me now
your support. Falls in Tamasā’s arms, overwhelmed with emotion.
Tamasā, supporting [her]—Take heart, my child, take heart!
[Voice,] behind the curtain—Through this sight of Pañchavaṭī—
Of the fire of my grief [long] dormant within and now about to
blaze forth wildly, this gloom is as it were the column of smoke
that, as a precursor [of the coming fire], is now enveloping me. 9
Alas, my dearest! Thou daughter of Janaka!
Tamasā, to herself—This it was that the [kind] elders had also dreaded.
Sītā, recovering herself—Ha! How comes this?

45] Act III, The Shadow — Translation [—iii. 12¹⁰
[Voice,] behind the curtain—O Queen, dear companion of [my] residence
in the Daṇḍakā forest! Thou daughter of the King of Videha!
Sītā—Alas, alas! Calling upon me—ill-starred that I am—and closing
his blue eye-lotuses [my Lord] has really swooned! Look, how on the
[bare] surface of the earth—all languid and helpless—he is lying out-
stretched! Quick, honoured Tamasā, run, run to the rescue: restore my
noble Lord to life. Falls at her feet.
Tamasā—Do thou, rather, O blessed one, thyself restore the Lord of
the world to life. The touch of thy hand carries bliss: on it rests
all the burden. 10
Sītā—Be it [then] as it will: As your ladyship commands.
Exit in great flurry.
Then enters¹ Rāma stretched on the ground and touched by the sorrowing
Sītā and reviving and full of joy.
Sītā, rather joyfully—I think life seems to have again returned unto the
[Lord of the] three worlds!
Rāma—Ha! What, in sooth, can this be?
Is it, perchance, an anointment of the juice [pressed out] of the
[tender] harichandana leaves; or is it rather a sprinkling of
[the essence] kneaded out of a sprout of moon-beams? Of the
scorching fire of my life the all-allaying [balm], is it an extract
from some life-giving herb poured upon my heart? 11
A touch from of old familiar—certainly it is that same, giving
life to my soul and [anon] overwhelming it with languor: It hath
at once dispelled the gloom which came from my grief, but
hath [also] thrown me once more into a lassitude of joy! 12
Sītā, withdrawing in excitement and sorrow—Even this much now for me
should more than suffice!
Rāma, sitting up—Surely it could not have been my Queen come, out of
affection, to favour me?
Sītā—Alas, alas! Wherefore [now] should my noble Lord worry himself
(maggissadi)² about me?
Rāma—Well: I [must] find out.
Sītā—Honoured Tamasā, let us depart. Should he see me, for thus
approaching him without leave, the King will be ever so much more dis-
pleased with me.
¹ 'Is discovered' we should say in modern          of me [if he should find me here, as he
    theatrical terms.                                            probably will]?
² Or, what opinion will he have (mantissadi)

iii. 12¹¹—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [46
Tamasā—But don't-you-recollect (ayi), child, that, by virtue of Bhāgīrathi's
sure-contrivance (vara), even unto deities thou hast become invisible?
Sītā—Ah, yes: so it is.
Rāma—Dear Jānakī! Why, I say, my dearest Jānakī!
Sītā, [as if] choked with passion—Noble my Lord! Inconsistent this
really is with all that has happened! With tears. Or rather, wherefore,
when I have [here] obtained, as if in another life, this sight of him that
I should never have aspired to attain; [wherefore] at a time when towards
one so ill-starred as I am, he is so brimful of affection and kind words:
[wherefore,] hard as adamant though I be, should I against my noble
Lord be so relentless? For, I know his heart, and he knows mine.
Rāma, looking in all directions, with dejection—Why! nobody here!
Sītā—Honoured Tamasā! Although the author of my causeless banishment,
still, as I see him in this his plight, I know not what sort of emotions
surge foremost (anubandha) in my heart.
Tamasā—I know it, child, I know it:
Apathetic through despair and yet stirred with a sense for thy
wrongs; in this long long separation as if forthwith ardent for
reunion: gracious in thy [innate] goodness and filled to its
depths with pity for thy dear Lord's piteous plight, and melting
in affection—thus now, meseems (iva), all in a moment thy heart
has become. 13
Rāma—Queen!
Like a favour incarnate, thy touch, cool and full of affection,—
even now it bedews me with joy: but where art thou, thou
my Joy? 14
Sītā—These, in sooth, revealing the treasure (sambhāra) of an affection
inward and unfathomed, [and] overflowing [me] with joy—these words of
my noble Lord I have [once again] heard: [words] which, as I drink them
in (jāṇaṁ pachchaeṇa) now—though the barb of my unmerited abandon-
ment still rankles within [my heart]—they make me prize this my life [so]
highly.
Rāma—No (athavā), it could not by any chance be my dearest. Verily,
springing out of the perfection of his practised meditation [on her], this
must be Rāma's illusion.¹
[Voice,] behind the curtain—Oh, how unfortunate, how unfortunate!
That youngling of an elephant who was [fed] formerly by Queen
Sītā with tender śallakī leaves gathered by her own hands, fed
as he stood before her fond and expectant— 15 a, b
¹ I. e. thinking too intently upon an object you get a hallucination of the same.

47] Act III, The Shadow — Translation [—iii. 16ᵇ
Rāma, with sympathetic eagerness—Well, what of him?
[Same Voice,] behind the curtain, once more—
he, sporting in the water in the company of his mate, is busily
engaged in combat by a mighty leader of another herd of tuskers,
who has in wanton-pride (darpa) assailed him. 15 c, d
Sītā—Who now will succour him?
Rāma—Where, where is that wicked [beast] that is assailing one who was
as a son unto my dear wife—and that too while he is enjoying his mate's
company? Rises.
Vāsantī, entering, greatly agitated—How! Is it the King, the joy of
Raghu's race?
Sītā—Why! It is my dear friend, Vāsantī!
Vāsantī—Victory attend Your Majesty!
Rāma, observing [her]—Who! My Queen's dear friend, Vāsantī?
Vāsantī—Haste, Sire, haste: along this way, south of Jaṭāyu's peak, past
[what they call] Sītā's Ford, do you descend down to Godāvarī's bank and
honour [by your visit] the Queen's [foster-]son, [the elephant].
Sītā—Alas, father Jaṭāyu! Void without thee ¹ [now must be] this Jana-
sthāna!
Rāma—Alas! They really tear the [very] vitals of my heart—these
familiar allusions!
Vāsantī—This, this way, Sire!
Sītā—Honoured [Tamasā]! And is it indeed true that even sylvan deities
can't see me? ²
Tamasā—Knowest thou not (ayi), darling, that superior by far to [that of] ⎫
all other divinities is the power of the divine Mandākinī [Ganges]? Why ⎬
dost thou fear then? ⎭
Sītā—In that case—let us go after [them].
[Sītā and Tamasā] walk about.
Rāma—My homage to thee, exalted Godāvarī!
Vāsantī, observing—Sire! Rejoice at the victory [gained] by the Queen's
[foster-]son [that is there] in the company of his mate.
Rāma—May victory and long life attend him!
Sītā—Oh! And has he grown thus [big]!
Rāma—Queen! Here is something to be glad of—
With his tapering tusks, just sprouting and soft like fibres of
lotus, [he] who used to pull, O fair-bodied one, the lavalī leaves
¹ See note 2, page 24, above. invisible to Rāma and Vāsantī. The poet
² It is necessary to bear in mind that through- himself draws our attention to this fact
out this Act Sītā and Tamasā remain whenever we seem most near forgetting it.

iii. 16ᵇ—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [48
that decked thy ears¹—this [is he] that [foster-]son of thine,
[now] a vanquisher of sturdy and rutting elephants, by whom,
what in growing youth is a bliss, that ² has already been
achieved. 16
Sītā—Only, unseparated from this his gentle-looking mate ³ may he for
ever live!
Rāma—Look, friend Vāsantī, look! The youngster has even learnt—though
only by half—the art of courting his mate's favour!—
When the bunches of lotus stalks, in frolic uprooted, had been
[by her] bitten off, he transferred [unto his mate] trunkfuls of
water perfumed with the blooming lotuses; then indeed a bath
from the sprays of his trunk he gave her, but, when through
with that, he has not, in his affection, [pulled out] a straight
stalk of lotus, [leaf and all, and] held [it] as a sunshade over
her. 17
Sītā—Honoured Tamasā, thus now has this one grown up: but the other
two—through all this [long] time—my Kuśa and Lava, I know not how
[big] they have grown.
Tamasā—As this one here, so likewise those two [sons].
Sītā—Thus ill-starred am I that [I am condemned] not merely [to] an
eternal separation from my noble Lord but even [to] a separation from my
sons!
Tamasā—Thus Fate hath decreed.
Sītā—And why have I given birth unto sons [at all], if, of both of them,
so [lovable] as they are, those unspotted lotus-like faces—with cheeks bloom-
ing by reason of their teeth, tender, white, and rather sparse—rippling with
a laugh charming and musical—and [decked] with little locks plaited over
their ears and forehead—if [their faces] my noble Lord has not kissed?
Tamasā—May it so happen by the favour of the Gods!
Sītā—Honoured Tamasā! Now, as I am fondly (saṁ) thinking of my
sons, my bosom heaves and longs to suckle them; and, with their father ⁴
here by me, I feel as if—just for a moment—I were restored to my
domestic felicity!
Tamasā—Needs this to be said? A child is the utmost perfection of the
love [between man and wife]. It is the closest link that can hold them
together:
As being the meeting-ground (saṁśraya) for the mother's and

¹ The young elephant was then only of a man's height.
² I. e. love and triumphant valour.
³ A characteristic benediction!
⁴ This mode of referring to the husband, says one of the commentators, indicates that the author was a Dravidian. The inference does not, however, hold.

49] Act III, The Shadow — Translation [—iii. 22³
the father’s affection, in a child we [so to say] tie in a [common]
knot of joy [the several strands of] their inmost hearts. 18
Vāsantī—And this way, likewise, let Your Majesty turn his eye:
He, in the full intoxication [of his youth], has ended [with
a flourish] his mirthful dance, this peacock, whose smooth and
wavy feathers have [only] recently sprouted forth—here [he is
now] with his expansive plumage [sitting,] like a jewelled
coronet, on the top of this kadamba tree, [and] rejoicing in the
company of his mate. 19
Sītā, in curiosity and with tears—This is he!
Rāma—Rejoice, darling! [Ever] rejoice!
Sītā—So be it!
Rāma—At each of thy whirlings, [O peacock,] her eyes, rolling
around¹ within the lids, had their charm enhanced by the skilful
dancings of her tremulous eyebrows, as she, [my wife,] in the
fondness of her heart (mugdhayā) taught thee to dance, keeping
time by the clapping of her hands, delicate like a sprout—thus
it is [O peacock] that I think on thee, as on a son, with a mind
brimful of affection. 20
Why! Even animals² remember (anurudhyante) old friendships!—
That kadamba tree, displaying just a sprinkling (katipaya) of
flowers, which my dearest had once reared up;— 21 a, b
Sītā, observing, with tears—Rightly [indeed] has my noble Lord recognized
[the tree].
Rāma—[that kadamba,] this mountain-peacock remembers as [having
been [once] favourite to the Queen: hence it is that on ['it he is
feeling merry. 21 c, d
Vāsantī—Here, in the meantime, let Your Majesty take a seat:
This here, situated in the middle of the kadalī grove, [this] is that
same slab of stone which did duty as a bed for you and your
wife; and because, sitting here, Sītā would give frequent '[morsels
of] grass to the deer, therefore [those fondlings] refused [ever]
to leave her [alone]! 22
Rāma—This, I cannot [even] endure its sight [now].
Sits elsewhere, weeping.
Sītā—Friend Vāsantī! What hast thou achieved by showing this [place]
to my noble Lord and to myself? Alas, alas! Here [now] is my noble
Lord [ever] the same; here the same Pañchavaṭī grove; and here the
¹ To follow the circular movements of the ² Cp. Jātaka, No. 156, story of the grateful
dance. elephant. [C. R. L.]
7 [H.O.S. 21]

iii. 22³—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [50
selfsame dear companion of mine—Vāsantī. Here [likewise] are these
[mute] witnesses to our varied and confidential intercourse—these woodland
spots on [the banks of] the Godāvarī: and these [again] are the very same
deer and birds and trees—all esteemed by us like our own children. To
me, however, though present before my [very] eyes, they are all—such
is my fate—no better than non-existing! Such then are [some of] the
vicissitudes of this world of mortals!
Vāsantī—Sītā, my friend! Dost thou not notice [thy] Rāma's condition ?¹
With his limbs lovely like the petals of a blue lotus, he [formerly]
used to cause supreme delight to [thy] eyes; and, although thou
couldst see him always and at will, he did [then] look new and
ever newer to thee: But [now] here he is with his limbs all
lifeless, overspread with pallor, and extremely (pari) enfeebled
by grief; not without difficulty can he be recognized as the
same, though he [to be sure] still continues to delight [our]
sight. 23
Sītā—I see it, my friend, I do see it.
Tamasā—Mayest thou, [my dear] daughter, see what is dear² to thee !
Sītā—Alas, [cruel] Fate! He without me and I without him—would
any one [ever] have thought this possible? Let me therefore—just for
a moment and through my tears—take a look at my noble and loving
Lord, whom I, as if in a second birth,³ am able [here] to behold.
Remains looking [at him].
Tamasā, embracing [Sītā], with tears of affection—
Floating in an overwhelming flood of tears both of joy and of
sorrow and wide open in thy eagerness [to see him], thy eyes
(dṛiṣhṭi) seem as it were to bathe the Lord of thy heart in
an overflow of affection—as [if by] a stream of milk, white
and copious and charming. 24
Vāsantī—Let trees, with flowers and fruits that drip with their
[sweetest] juices, yield an offering [unto Rāma]—surcharged with
the fragrance of full-blown lotuses, let breezes blow over the
dales—let the [youthful and] full-throated birds pour forth their
incessant melodies—for here, once more, unto this forest, has our
Lord Rāma himself returned. 25
Rāma—Come, dear Vāsantī! Won't you take a seat here?
¹ Vāsantī purposely assumes ignorance as to ³ It was in an earlier life, as it were, that
Sītā's fate. I was his wife and he my Lord : so
² Either i. her husband's face or ii. a termi- changed are our present relations.
nation of her sorrows.

51] Act III, The Shadow — Translation [—iii. 28¹
Vāsantī, seating herself, with tears—My liege Lord! Is dear Lakshmaṇa
doing well ?
Rāma, pretending not to hear—
With water and wild-rice and grass—offered with her own lotus-
like hands—these trees and birds and deer¹ that the daughter
of the King of Mithilā² [once] used to feed: as I sight them
[now] an indescribable emotion wells up within me; [an emotion]
that, like an oozing [in some rock], must end (yogya) by breaking
my heart [in twain]. 26
Vāsantī—I was asking, My liege Lord, Is it all well with dear Lakshmaṇa ?
Rāma, to himself—Ah! ‘My liege Lord’ [is] a mode of address devoid
of cordiality and her inquiry referred to the son of Sumitrā [Lakshmaṇa]
only; her voice [too was choked] with tears [and] faltered: so I fear she
already knows the news about Sītā. Aloud. Ah, yes: Prince Lakshmaṇa
is doing well. Sobs.
Vāsantī—Why, O King, why art thou [so, so] cruel ?
Sītā—And what art thou, dear Vāsantī, when thou couldst reproach [him]
thus ? My noble Lord certainly deserves kind consideration from all—and
particularly from my dear friend.
Vāsantī—“Thou [art] my life; thou art my second heart; thou the
moon-light of my eyes: thou the [immortal] ambrosia to my
body”—with these and hundreds of other endearments her simple-
and-loving (mugdhā) soul thou didst beguile; and her now—alas!
why utter the rest? 27 Faints.
Tamasā—Quite natural indeed that [thus] she should break off in her
speech and faint away.
Rāma—Compose thyself, friend, compose thyself.
Vāsantī, recovering—Wherefore, then, has Your Majesty done this un-
worthy deed ?
Sītā—Desist, dear Vāsantī, desist.
Rāma—Because the people would not put up with it.
Vāsantī—And why ?
Rāma—They themselves know—I-know-not-what (kimapi).
Vāsantī—O thou hard-hearted one! Is it honour that you profess
(kila) to hold dear? What dishonour I ask (nanu) is more
dreadful than this? And what, in that forest, may have been
the fate of that fawn-eyed one [your wife]? Alas! Tell me,
My Lord, what do you think about it? 28
Tamasā—After a [very] long time [indeed comes] this reproof!
¹ Respectively. ² Mithilā was the capital of King Janaka.

iii. 28²—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [52
Sītā—Friend Vāsantī! 'Tis thou that art terrible—that art cruel, in that
thou dost thus fan [his] flames.¹
Tamasā—It is thy love [for thy Lord] that thus speaks—[thy love] and
thy grief.
Rāma—Dear friend! What [else] could any one think about it?
She whose eyes were tremulous like those of a fawn, just a year
old, [when it is] taken with fright, [and who was] languid with
the quick and throbbing burden in her womb—her dear creeper-
like form, [a form that was] as if the very quintessence (mayī)
of moon-beams and [delicate] like a soft and lovely lotus—[her
form] the flesh-eating Monsters must certainly have swallowed
up. 29
Sītā—I am still alive, dear my Lord, still alive!
Rāma—Alas, dearest! Thou daughter of Janaka, where art thou?²
Sītā—Alas, alas, that even my noble Lord, in the fullness of his heart,
should cry aloud!
Tamasā—This, my child, is nothing but proper. Those in grief must [at
times] give vent to their grief: For—
When put to a strain by the flood, for a tank, an overflow is the
[only] remedy; so, when agitated by grief, the heart only through
laments is restrained-from-breaking (avadhāryate). 30
And especially for [our] dear Rāma this world of life has been full of
unusually great and manifold troubles:
This entire world he has to protect assiduously and in [strict]
conformity with the law; [then there is] this sorrow for his
beloved, which withers, like heat, the flower of his life; having
himself brought about [his wife's] abandonment, what relief there
is in lamentations, even that is not easy for him: still he continues
to draw his breath [in this world]—is not weeping then a real
gain? 31
Rāma—Oh, these torments!
My heart with its intense tumults [of grief] is near to bursting,
but it [will] not break in twain; this shattered frame succumbs
[again and again] to a swoon, but it [will] not part with con-
sciousness; an inward anguish burns my body, but [will] not
consume it to ashes: Fate strikes me down and pierces my vitals,
but [will] not cut this life away! 32
Sītā—So it is [even with me]!
Rāma—Ye my worthy citizens and subjects!
¹ Dost increase his sorrow. ² See page 47, note 2, above.

53] Act III, The Shadow — Translation [—iii. 37³
When I indeed knew (kila) that you did not wish my Queen to
stay in the house, her, like mere chaff, in that void wilderness,
I abandoned, and not even so much as mourned! [But] these
scenes long familiar [unto me]—[they] have to-day set my heart
melting, so that in sheer helplessness—forgive me [my people]—
I am here—weeping! 33
Tamasā—Deep is the roar of this ocean of grief.
Vāsantī—My Lord! As matters that have been, it behoves you to endure
[them] with courage.
Rāma—What is it you say, friend!—courage?
Since when this world was deprived of its Queen, this is the
twelfth year: Even her very name seems to have vanished quite:
and yet Rāma has not ceased to be! 34
Sītā—These words of my noble Lord—by them I am beguiled [into forget-
fulness of my own grief].
Tamasā—And no wonder, my child!
These words, brimful of affection [but withal] terrible by reason
of grief—it is not an unmixed pleasure (priyatama) that they
bring thee: they are streams of honey and poison a-dripping
upon thee. 35
Rāma—And [furthermore,] Vāsantī, have I not indeed—
[This dart that] like a glowing spear-head driven deep and
athwart, or like a fang of venom—this pointed dart of grief [that
rankles] within my heart [and] tears my vitals to pieces: [have
I not then patiently] endured it? 36
Sītā—Such is my hard lot that I am once more¹ a cause of trouble to my
noble Lord.
Rāma—Although, therefore, [by an extreme effort] I have firmly restrained
my mind, still to-day the sight of these various familiar scenes has thus
overpowered me. For—
To stem the swelling commotions of this wild and tumultuous
heart, every single effort that I somehow bring to bear upon it—
all those [efforts], one after another, some mysterious impulse
within breaks forcibly through, and gains ground for itself
(prasarati), as would a torrent of water a dam of sand—[a
torrent when] unchecked in its course. 37
Sītā—This my noble Lord's outburst of grief [that is] growing (ārambha)
more and more alarmingly irresistible, it has revived the [smouldering]
grief of my own heart and makes it tremble [in agitation].
¹ The earlier occasion was when she was    fight and win her back.
   abducted by Rāvaṇa, and Rāma had to