Canto X: Rishyaśring Invited

"Again, O best of Kings, give ear:-- My saving words attentive hear, And listen to the tale of old By that illustrious Bráhman told. 'Of famed Ikshváku's line shall spring ('Twas thus he spoke) a pious king, Named Daśaratha, good and great, True to his word and fortunate. He with the Angas' mighty lord Shall ever live in sweet accord, And his a daughter fair shall be, Śántá of happy destiny. But Lomapád, the Angas' chief, Still pining in his childless grief, To Daśaratha thus shall say:-- "Give me thy daughter, friend, I pray, Thy Śántá of the tranquil mind, The noblest one of womankind."

The father, swift to feel for woe, Shall on his friend his child bestow; And he shall take her and depart To his own town with joyous heart. The maiden home in triumph led, To Rishyaśring the King shall wed. And he with loving joy and pride Shall take her for his honored bride. And Daśaratha to a rite That best of Bráhmans shall invite With supplicating prayer To celebrate the sacrifice To win him sons and Paradise, That he will fain prepare. From him the lord of men at length The boon he seeks shall gain, And see four sons of boundless strength His royal line maintain, Thus did the godlike saint of old The will of fate declare, And all that should befall unfold Amid the sages there. O Prince, supreme of men, go thou, Consult thy holy guide, And win, to aid thee in thy vow, This Bráhman to thy side."

Sumantra's counsel, wise and good, King Daśaratha heard, Then by Vaśishtha's side he stood And thus with him conferred:-- "Sumantra counsels thus:--do thou My priestly guide, the plan allow." Vaśishtha gave his glad consent, And forth the happy monarch went With lords and servants on the road That led to Rishyaśring's abode. Forests and rivers duly past, He reached the distant town at last-- Of Lomapád the Angas' King, And entered it with welcoming. On through the crowded streets he came, And, radiant as the kindled flame, He saw within the monarch's house The hermit's son, most glorious. There Lomapád, with joyful breast, To him all honor paid, For friendship for his royal guest His faithful bosom swayed. Thus entertained with utmost care Seven days, or eight, he tarried there, And then that best of men thus broke His purpose to the King, and spoke:--

"O King of men, mine ancient friend, (Thus Daśaratha prayed), Thy Śántá with her husband send My sacrifice to aid." Said he who ruled the Angas, "Yea," And his consent was won:-- And then at once he turned away To warn the hermit's son. He told him of their ties beyond Their old affection's faithful bond:-- "This King," he said, "from days of old A well beloved friend I hold. To me this pearl of dames he gave From childless woe mine age to save, The daughter whom he loved so much, Moved by compassion's gentle touch. In him thy Śántá's father see:-- As I am, even so is he. For sons the childless monarch yearns, To thee alone for help he turns. Go thou, the sacred rite ordain To win the sons he prays to gain:-- Go, with thy wife thy succor lend, And give his vows a blissful end."

The hermit's son with quick accord Obeyed the Angas' mighty lord, And with fair Śántá at his side To Daśaratha's city hied. Each king, with suppliant hands upheld, Gazed on the other's face:-- And then by mutual love impelled Met in a close embrace. Then Daśaratha's thoughtful care, Before he parted thence, Bade trusty servants homeward bear The glad intelligence:-- "Let all the town be bright and gay, With burning incense sweet; Let banners wave, and water lay The dust in every street." Glad were the citizens to learn The tidings of their lord's return, And through the city every man Obediently his task began. And fair and bright Ayodhyá showed, As following his guest he rode Through the full streets, where shell and drum Proclaimed aloud the King was come. And all the people with delight Kept gazing on their king, Attended by that youth so bright, The glorious Rishyaśring. When to his home the King had brought The hermit's saintly son, He deemed that all his task was wrought, And all he prayed for won. And lords who saw the stranger dame So beautiful to view, Rejoiced within their hearts, and came And paid her honor, too. There Rishyaśring passed blissful days, Graced like the King with love and praise, And shone in glorious light with her, Sweet Śántá for his minister, As Brahmá's son Vaśishtha, he Who wedded Saint Arundhatí.