Part 4 (2/2)
Brave Timma sought his anxious wife ere he Went forth to fight, and thus took leave of her.
”Dear wife! the day to march is named at last.
Your aged sire and our dear monarch leads The war, and Bukka, as a Hindu true, Joins us to fight against the Moslem horde, And doubly glad I am that in this war, With Bukka vying in the field with me, And in the very presence of our king, Who well rewards the val'rous and the brave, The place of honour I will there attain For courage true, and prove once more before The world I am a worthy husband of A n.o.ble wife; so let me now depart.”
She made reply--”Some evil it forebodes That Bukkaraj should thus be madly told To join our ranks, for what is truth and G.o.d To one so steeped in sin? And sad it is My aged father goes with him to fight.
Trust not in him and keep a steady eye On him, e'en if within the thickest of The fight thou art, for any moment he May turn the tide of war; fight till the last, And, if thou comest back victorious from The field, I'll be the first to welcome thee, But, if thou fallest fighting in the field, Or if, perhaps, it chances otherwise, Thou art left helpless and alone, here is Our ever ready jav'lin to kill thee.
Thy body forthwith shall be n.o.bly borne Unto the pyre by thine own faithful men, And I will gladly leap upon the flames.
But if thou comest routed and alive, Then Chandra nevermore shall see thy face.”
At early morn, upon th' appointed day, The king his faithful servants summoned, and Before them all his only brother named To rule the kingdom and confided all His subjects to his care; then, at the head Of his brave troops, out of the city marched, Amidst the royal bards recounting in Sweet tones the glories of his kingdom's past, His holy priests invoking Krishna's help And chanting sacred hymns, and in the midst Of maidens of the martial Kshatrya race, Proceeding to the very city gates, And singing to their fathers, brothers, and Their husbands in shrill notes heard far and wide, That Swarga's gates are ever ready to Receive the faithful if they bravely fall, The flames are ready to take their proud wives, But burning h.e.l.l gapes wide for to devour The cowards that run routed and alive; Their maidens' sweet embrace awaits them not.
At last, upon the plains of Talicot, The armies met, fierce raged the battle, and Old Ramaraj fought n.o.bly in the field; And Timma too wrought dreadful havoc on The Moslems and their ranks oft shattered, but Alas! the ever treach'rous Bukka pounced Sudden on his own ranks; the king was slain; His ghastly head upon a pole was shown, And helpless and forlorn the Hindus stood; But, ere perfidious Bukka could run with The Moslem foes, to capture him alive, A faithful soldier Timma called, gave him His Chandra's jav'lin, in his steady grip To hold, then boldly ran his body through And instantly fell lifeless to the ground.
A faithful few the body bore, and laid Before the orphaned and the widowed maid Their precious charge, and soon the pyre was raised.
Then, near the flames that brightened her bright face, Her uncle and her people shedding tears, Her n.o.ble husband lying cold and still, The story of her father's cruel death Still ringing in her ears, she took farewell.
”Dear uncle and my faithful men! grieve not: I see a cloud, now looming yonder there, No bigger than the hand of man, that shall Expand and rain and water to purge all The land of th' innocent blood shed on it, For mother India's cup of woe is full, And but three decades more,--there will come from The far-off ends of this vast globe of ours,-- A little island planted in the sea,-- A handful of a n.o.ble race to trade, And shall from thee ask for a plot of land, And they shall prosper for their valour and Shall be exalted for their righteousness.
They shall befriend the helpless and the poor, And like the streams that seek the ocean broad, The chickens that run to their mothers wings, The maidens helpless and forlorn, that court The succour of the chivalrous and the brave, The orphans poor, the bounty of the kind, All men of Ind, all races and all creeds Shall to their banner flock, to live in peace And amity; the tiger and the lamb Their thirst shall quench both from the selfsame brook.
The giant brute before the weakly sage Shall bow, and men shall fear to even gaze Upon the maidens that go forth alone, Adorned with naught but chast.i.ty, and from All lands the wisest shall revere our faith.
He that desires our homes to plunder and Sully the honour of our women, him Punishment terrible shall sure await.
Three hundred years more and the little plot Of land thou gavest shall grow and expand Into an empire huge, unwritten yet On hist'ry's page, and shall surpa.s.s the dreams Of warriors bold in times of old, and like The creepers that, entwined around the oak, Luxuriant grow, safe from the storms that blow, And flow'rs give forth to beautify the scene, Her sons shall everlasting peace enjoy, And blessings, hitherto unknown to man-- The grandest scene for G.o.d to ever cast His loving eyes upon, and for the world Of man to wonder at, and there shall be One sway, the sway of reason and of truth; One creed, the creed of righteousness and love; And mercy for all living things on earth; One brotherhood, the brotherhood of man; One fatherhood, the fatherhood of G.o.d.
But hark! there comes a shout, and yonder runs Exulting Bukka to seize me alive.
But these kind flames are ready to save me.
Run, uncle, run at once to far-off lands And continue thy sway in safer climes.”
So saying, she leapt on the fun'ral pyre, And speedily to ashes were consumed The faithful wife and her departed lord.
The monarch, who thus from the Moslem ran, In honour of this n.o.ble maiden, reared A princely town,[5] and here the Saxon came, And mother India was for ever blest.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 2: Vijianagar is here called Vijiapore.]
[Footnote 3: Literally, the moon.]
[Footnote 4: The allusion here is to the ancient custom of _Swayamvara_ (self-choice), which is the election of a husband by a princess or a daughter of a kshatriya at a public a.s.sembly of suitors for the purpose.]
[Footnote 5: Chandragiri.]
_THE KORATHY'S LULLABY._
The Korathy is the tattooer of the Indian village, who offers her services for a small fee. Hindu females are very fond of having their bodies tattooed. The Korathy first makes a sketch of the figure of a scorpion or a serpent on the part of the body offered to her for tattooing, then takes a number of sharp needles, dips them in some liquid preparation which she has ready, and p.r.i.c.ks the flesh most mercilessly. In a few days the whole appears green. This is considered a mark of beauty among the Hindus. While the tattooing takes place the Korathy sings a crude song, so as to make the person undergoing the process forget the pain. The following is as nearly as possible a translation of the song which I myself heard:--
Stay, darling, stay--'tis only for an hour, And you will be the fairest of the fair.
Your lotus eyes can soothe the savage beast, Your lips are like the newly blossomed rose, Your teeth--they s.h.i.+ne like pearls; but what are they Before the beauties of my handiwork?
Stay, darling, stay--'tis only for an hour, And you will be the fairest of the fair.
I've left my home, and all day hard I toil So to adorn the maidens of the land That erring husbands may return to them; Such are the beauties of my handiwork.
Stay, darling, stay--'tis only for an hour, And you will be the fairest of the fair; In days of old fair Seeta laid her head Upon the lap of one of our own clan, When with her lord she wandered in the wilds, And like the emerald shone her beauteous arms.
Stay, darling, stay--'tis only for an hour, And you will be the fairest of the fair.
And often in the wilds, so it is said, She also of the Pandus went in quest Of one of us, but found not even one, And sighed she was not like her sisters blest.
Stay, darling, stay--'tis only for an hour, And you will be the fairest of the fair.
My work is done; rejoice, for you will be The fairest of your sisters in the land.
Rejoice for evermore, among them you Will s.h.i.+ne as doth the moon among the stars.
TALES OF IND,
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