The life of Mudhava — or rather breathe
From hei, impregnate with the cooling perfume
Of her delicious form — thou art alone
My hope.
(Bows wUh joined hands applied to his forehead.^ ^
Saud. 1 his is the season to present
The well known garland. (Throws it over his hands.}
Madh. — Ha — the wreath I wove
Of Baknla flowers, amidst the sacred shades
Of Kama's temple, and long fondly worn
Upon the bosom of my best beloved —
It is the same — this is the part
S In Ihe Jnjali— or respect- ed laterally to the middle of the
ful obeisance, the headisslighUy forehead, so that the tips of the
bowed— the p.ilins of the hauds tiiunibs only are in contact with
are brought together, and rais- it.
I 118 )
Lavangikii was pleased to hear ray Malali
Pretend was strung awry ; a mere pretext.
To veil the irrepressible delight.
Her radiant countenance too p'ain revealed.
(Jumj^s up )
Now Malati behold — ah no, you heed not
My hapless state — my parting breath escapes,
ISly heart desponds — my body is on fire.
And darkness spreads around me — oh be quick ;
You need not mock my soitoav — cast upon me
One bliss^diffusing glance— oh, be not pitiless.
{Looking rojind, then at the garland-)
ilow did she give me this — welcome dear wreath
The favourite of my love — and long her friend —
Oh whence soever borne, v/elcome, most Avelcome»
When on that gentle form, the scorching flame
Of love resistless preyed, and all her maidens
DespaH-ed — thy grateful succor saved the days
Of Malati — she clasped thee to her bosom.
And dreamt she pressed her lover to her heart.
Well I recall thy various passages
Between my neck, and that of my beloved.
Engendering tenderness, exciting hope
And animating passion's glowing fires.
(Puts the garland to his heart and faints.)
Male, llevive my friend — {fanning him.)
Madh. Ila Maharanda I
Didst thou not see— how i\Mfl//V affecff on
Was sealed with her f lir hand— how chanced it say-
Dost thou not knoAv.— .
C 119 )
Mai. This holy dame has brought
Some tidings of the maid.
Madh. ( Boiling.) With favouring ear
Receive my prayers - oh tell n\Q - Mdl(Ui
Say, does she live. —
Saml Be of good clieer my son ;
She lives.
Madh. How — where — oh speak.
Sand. Some while ago it chanced,
Aghora ghanta at Kardld's shrine
Fell by the arm oi MduJiava, in rescue
Of his fair maid. —
Madh. Enough — I know the whole,
Mah. How so.
Madh. Kapcihdundald — his partner. — â–
Mak. Is it e'en so —
Saud. My son conjectures riglitly. —
MuJc. Alas — how beauteous did the imion shew
Of the bright moon light, and the lotus bed,
1 ill, like a dark unseasonable cloud.
Fate frowning came to intercept their joys.
Madh. Into Avliat dreadful hands has Mdlali
Now fallen — to what exposed — oh lovely maid
How couldst thou bear the grasp unpitying
Of the fierce fiend — like the pale struggling moon
By hideous meteor seized. Kdpalakundald
Respect her tender form — repress thy spirit
jMalign, and learn benevolence — the flowret
By nature delicate, should not be crushed
AV^ith blowS;, but gently twined around the broWt
( 120 )
Sond. Enoiif?h— Tie calm— remorseless as she Is,
She flares not harm the maid— I will prevent her
Mctdh. and Med: {Ixming.J Accept our thanks— oh say,
to what we owe
Thy friendly care. —
Saud. It is enouj^h at present.
To learn, that in yom* cause 1 will exert
The powerful knowledge, mystic rites and prayers,
Devout observance and a sainted teacher.
Have armed me with — come Mddhava — attend mei
(Takes hdd of Mddhava, and they disapj)ear.J
Mak. Astonishing reverse — the fearful gloom
Yields to the lightning flash of hope, and instant
The cheated eye resumes its wonted faculty —
(Looks 7 0iind.)
How now — my friend not here — wliat can this be :
The dame is powerful in her magic rites.
But this alarms me — from one fear escaped
Another comes to agitate my heart.
My mind is tossed amid.it delight and dread.
And doubts one moment caused, subside the next—
I'll seek the priestess, who amidst the woods
Is roaming with her friends, and to her ear
Impart these wonderous chances—*
Exit,
rAJ> OF TirE KJNTII ACT.
ACT X.
ANOTHER PART OF THE FOREST.
Enter Kdmunduli, Dlr/duT/cmtlkd mid Lavangikd.
Kujn. My pride, my child, my Mdlali, where art thou— ^
Oh yield me a reply — your countless graces.
Your modesty, your elegance, your gentleness
Rise to my memory, consume my frame.
And rend my heart asunder. Oh, ray daughter,
I well recall your infant countenance.
Your pleasing prattle, and the transient tears.
And smiles, that shewed the young teeth budding
forth.
Mad. and Lav. Oh dearest friend, more radiant than the
moon.
Ah whither hast thou flown : can fate assail
Remorseless thus, thy form as delicate
As the Sirisha blossoms, and pursue thee
Unfriended and alone. Oh Mddhava
Thy promised joys are blighted in this world.
Kam. Alas my children, in your fond embrace
And new delight, fate, like a rising gkle.
That fells the tree and tender vine together,
Q
( 122 )
Ha-; strudv ye to tlie ground.
Lav. Oh cruel maid^
How can you punish thus the stony hearts
That cease to beat with hope.
Mad, Nay do not yet.
Yield to despair.
Lau. Alas, vny life is turned
To adamant, and will not leave me.
Kam. My dear child ;
From birth, Lavanglkd was dear to thee,
Anddojt thou not compassionate her now,
Disdrinlng life —Deprived of thee, her days
Are fading into gloom, as fluttering sinks
The lamp no oil supplies — How canst thou quit
Knmnnduki \\ ithin whose garb enfolded.
Thy infant limbs to health and beauty gi'ew.
From the maternal breast, v/ast thou confided
A * delicate plaything to my guardian care ;
At first to ply thy sports, but more advanced
U'o l::arn the duties of thy state : now grown
To vears mature, I have beheld thee wedded
T ) a loved husband, picked from all the world,
Blorethan a mother's claims upon thy love.
Have I~Ingrate — thou leav'st me to despair.
Ah me, I vainly hoped I should behold
A beauteous boy, hang fondly at thy breast.
Or sport upon thy 1 ip, his brow and forehead
* Literally, an ivory doll; Dnnlii panchdlihd ; Danla Iiere
sncauiiig the tooth of the Elepliant.
C J23 )
White with protecting flour,* liis lovely face
Brightened with causeless smiles.
Lav. Most holy dame,
I can no more endure this load of life :
This precipice relieves me of the burthen:
Grant m-> your blessing that in after life
I may once more behold my friend.
Kayn. ^ly daughter.
Life is alike unwelcome to my bosom.
Deprived of my dear chihu-en, and defspair
Invades my heart, but different merits claim
A different birth, and if we should not gain
Reunion with our friends in days to co.i e.
Abandonment of present life would yield
No fruit but vaia repentance.
Lav. Be it so.
Kavu Daughter, Maday^intikd.
Mad. Your commands — â–
If they direct me lead the way to deathj
Behold — T am prepared.
Lov. Dear friend — refrain
From self-destruction — Keep me in your memo'y.
Mad. Away, I am not subject to your will.
Kam. (Apart.) Alas! there is no hope.
* The powder of white r.iiis- itiixtiire of the s.ime with nil nnd
tartl is applied to the toj) of Ihe rice i^ scatlercj about in every
headaiul Iheforelieaii, and other quarter upon the rommencenient
parts of a new l)oru child, as a of a sacrifice to keep off gliosis
prolGclion against cyil spirits. A and fiends.
( 124 )
Mad. Jpart.) Dear husband, fare thee well.
Law 'Jhis is the loftiest point, and far below
The Madhumati twines its glittering zone.
. Kam. Enough — aur pirpose brooks not of delayj
(Thetj are about to casl Ihemselves dotvn.)
£JFithoul.'] Asionishiiig reverse — the fearful glooii*
Yields to the lightening flash of hope.
Kani. Who comes, —
My son.
Enter Mi'Jcuranda,
Say how is this.
Mah. A (lame of more than mortal powers has usedi
Her art in our behalf.
\JVHh(Ad.~\ A fearful crowd is gathered — BhurivusUy
Desp'sing life, and spurning worldly hopes.
Since he has learned his daughter's death, repairs,
To cast himself into the raging flames
At Siveniav'mdu's shrine — Alas, we all.
Shall mourn his fate.
Lnv. and Mad. How short an interval
Rejoiced those lovers in each others sight.
Earn, and Male. Tis most miraculous j what strange
events
This day alternate; drops of fragrant sandal
And sharp edged swords in the same shower commingle;
And sparks of flame, and streams of heavenly nectar.
Descend together from unclouded skies.
The life restoring drug with poison blends
And light and gloom; and destiny entwines
The thunderbolt and lunar rays together*
( 125 )
Mai. (W'dhout.) Dear father hold— oh, let me view
again.
The lotus of thy countenance — oh turn
Thy gaze upon thy child — liow, for my sake.
Canst thou desert thyself, the brillian boast
Of an an«:picious race whose fame pervades
Both eartli aiid heaven — ah, wherefore purpose thus.
Again to plunge me into bitterest woe.
Kuni. My daughter how is this : art thou redeem^ed
From death, once more to be exposed to peril ;
As lurk the demons of eclipse to seize
The feeble moon scarce struggling out of darkness.
JL,av. Behold our friend —
Enter Mudhava carrying i\I('il.ii senselesS'
Mudh. Alas ! from danger rescued, has again
Fear fallen upon thee — v.'ho shall bar the .^ate
To shut out adverse destiny.
liak. IVIy friend
Where is the dame.
Madh. With her Ave hicher speeded.
Swift from Sri Pdrvaia, but wiien Ave heard
The news the foresttr imparted to us ;
I missed her suddenly.
Kam and Mul-. Oh Dame of power
Befriend us still ; why hast thou disappeared.
Mctd end Lav. i\Iy Mdlati, I speak to thee, thy friend-
Priestess, preserve us, still she is insensible;
She does not breathe, her heart is cold. Alasj
The sire and daughter are to each other
( 196 )
111 turn, the instrument of death.
Kam. My deav child.
Madh. My Love.
]\I(ik. My friend.
Katn. (Looking up.) What we'come drops are these
That fall from heaven to aid us.
Mcidh. She revives —
Long sighs relieve her hibouring breast, her hei rt
Resumes its pulse ; her gentle eye unf.)Ids,
And from unconscious stillness that dear face
Once more expands, as at the dawn of day
The lotus bares its bosom to the sun.
(Behind.) — Deaf to the king's entreaties, and the prayers
Of Nandatia, though humbled at his feet.
Upon the flaming marge, the minister
By m^ iias been prevented, and recalled
To life and joy.
Madh, and Mak. (Looking up.) Mark, ho!y dame — From
heaven,
TliC kind m.ngician pours upon ouv hearts-,
Th? nectar of her tidings: they surpass
1 he virtue of the ba my shower.
Kam. Blest news.
AIL Our happiness is now secure.
Kam. My ihildl
Mai. 'Jhe priestess!
(FaUs at her feel, Ki'imandaJd raises and cmhraca her.)
Ka?n. Restored to life my cliiid, to life restore
Your friends, and with your fond embraces, cool
( 127 )
As lunar rays^ reanimate existence.
In those who live for you.
Madh. (To Makannida.) My faithful friend;
This breathing Avorlcl may now be well endured.
I^Jak In sooth it may.
Mad. and Lav. Dear Malati confirm
The happiness we see, by 3'our embrace.
J\/«/. My valued friends. (Embraces them.)
Kant. Tell m?, my sons, how chanced these strange events.
Mad. Our past misfortunes were the wrathful work
Kfipaluhiiiidald's revenge inspired ;
And that we 'scaped her toils, our thanks are due
To this propitious and all pov/erful friend.
Kam. Aghoraghantas death was then the source
Of these mischances.
Mad. and Lav. Strange vicissitude:
After repeated trials, adverse fate
In kindness terminates its chequered course.
Enter Saiiddmiui.
Fan. (To Kdmanduki.) Hail holy Dame — your scholar
pa)s your homage.
Kam. Sauddmvii - most wel come.
M (dh. aid Mak. Then we owe
Our succour to the priestess : this, her first
Disciple, all is clear.
Knn. This is well done.
And many a life preserved has sanctified thee.
'Tis long since we have met, dismiss this reverence^
And let me grateful press thee to my bosom.
Etnhracing her.
Thou hast deserved tlie praises of the world,
"Whose lofty powers^ the harvest of the seed
By early study sown, are shewn by deeds
That shame the mightiest masters *
Mad. n7)d Lav- Is this Sauduminu
Mul. It is : by her,
'Jhe friend and pxipilof my pious j^uardian.
The fierce Kap:'il ikjouhila was foiled.
She bore me to her dwelling, and there leaving me
Secure, conveyed the wreath of Ba'cula flowers.
To snatch you from despair.
Mod. and Lav. She has indeed,
Been scarcely less propitious to us, than our old
And reverend preceptress.
Madh. and Mah. The bright gem,
That grants whatever h desired, demands
The suppliant's prayer : the Dame's assistance came
All unsolicited.
Sau. (Apart.) These thanks oppress me —
Respected mistress, from the king I bear
A letter to the youth — it was inscribed
With Nandanas concurrence, and the assent
* The expression is nilheisiu- ever in harmony \Tithlhe charac-
7tv;" — a jiioU'i person endowed tity and the respectful allusions
villi iniracnlouspowers,and who to the Bauddhas, shew Ihal Ihe
is considered as an inferiorincar- play was composed before their
nation of Buddha — il is, how- decliue.
( m )
O^ Bhurivasu. (gives her a letlcr.)
Kam. (Takes if and reads.)
'' Unto all, be health —
" The King commands — We are well pleased to greet
" A Son in you — of noble race descended ;
'' Amongst the worthiest eminent, and late
" From great calamity redeemed — and more ;
" In love and grace to you, we do permit
" Your well loved friend, to wed the youthful maid^
" Whom first affection yielded to his hopes"
You hear my son.
Mad. I do, and all I wished.
Thus hearing, have obtained.
Mai. The lingering dart
Of fear is now extracted from our hearts.
Lav. The loves of Mdlaii and Mudhava
Will now no more be thwarted.
Mak. See, where come
Our other friends, and faithful Kalahansd.
Enter Avalokitd, Buddharukshild, and Kalahansa.
All (botving) Glory to Kamandaki — the sage
Perfector of all aims : glory to Mddhava —
The IMoon that sheds delight on Makaranda.
Now Fate propitious smiles.
Lav. Who does not share
This general J03'.
Kam. Our interesting story
Full of strange varied incidents, is closed,
R
( ISO )
There still exists cause for congratulation.
Sail. And Devardta and his ancient friend,
Will see with joy their children now are joined.
In that affiance they so long projected.
Mai (J part.) Hey— how is this.
Male, and Madh. {To Kumandaki. ) How sorts the Dame's
discourse
With past events.
Lav. {Apart to Kam.) What's to be said. '
Kam. (To her.) We need no longer fear
The wrath of Nandann, now Ave obtain
His sister's aid (aloud-) 'Tis even as you have heard.
Whilst yet I taught your fathers, they agreed,
That when their children came to years mature.
Their hands should be united, and they left
Saiidamim and me, to take those cares
That might secure your union, hoping thus
To shun the anger of exalted rank.
Mai. C Apart.) What marvellous secrecy.
Madh. and Mat. It moves our wonder.
Yet must the schemes of the illustrious, planned
For virtuous ends, and prudently conducted^
Ever enjoy success.
Kam. My son, what more remains.
The happiness that was your earliest hope
By my devotions, and the skilful pains
Of my disciples, is at last ensured you.
The king and Nandana approve the suit
Of your dear friend, and hence no fear prevents
C 131 >
His union with his love. If yet there be
A wish ungratified, declare it, speak.
Mad. (Bowing.) My happiness henceforth is perfect: all
The wish I cherish more, is this, and may
Your favor, holy Dame, grant it fruition.
Still may the virtuous be exempt from error
And fast to virtue cling — may monarchs merciful.
And firm in equity, protect the earth —
May in due season from the labouring clouds
The fertile showers descend, and may the people
Blest in their friends— their kindred, and their children
Unknowing Avant, live cheerful and content.
^Exeunt all.
The preceding Drama requires less allowance for any pe-
culiarity in national manners than most of the specimens
of the Hindu Theatre. It offers nothing to offend the most
fastidious delicacy, and may be compared in this respect,
advantageously, with many of the dramas of modern Europe,
which treat of the passion that constitutes its subject.
The manner in which Love is here depictured is worthy
of observation, as correcting a mistaken notion of the
influence which the passion exercises over the minds of the
Natives, of at least one portion of Asia. However intense
thcgfeeling, and it is represented as sufficiently powerful to
endanger existence, it partakes in no respect of the impetu-
osity, which it has pleased the writers of the West to attri-
bute to the people of the East;
â– ( 132 )
The barbarous nations, whose inhuman lore,
Is wild desire, fierce as the Suns they feel.
The fierceness of their Suns is a very efficient cause for
the gentleness of their passions, and the hardy children
of the north find their complicated system of social restraint.
insufficient to curb those impulses which they derive from
a less enervated frame and a more lofty spirit.
If however the love of the Hindus be less vehement than that
of the Goth, Dane or Norman of uncivilised days, it is equally
remote from the extravagance of adoration which later times
have learnt from those who never taught the lesson, the mn*-
rors of Chivalry, who were equally vowed to the service of
God and the Ladies. There is no reason to think their love
was a whit purer than that of any other people or time, but
the fancy was fctvourable to poetical imagination, and has un-
doubtedly influenced the manners of modern Europe. The
heroine of this drama is loved as a woman : she is no goddess
in the estimation of her lover, and although her glances may
inflame, no hint is given that or frowns can kill — At the
same time Mudhava's passion is as metaphysical as need be, and
Malati alone,
Heard, felt, and seen, possesses every thought.
Fills every sense, and pants in every vein
The passion of Mdlati is eqvxally intense with of Juliet but
her unconquerable reserve, even to the extent of denying her
utterance to him she loves more than life, is a curious pic-
ture of the restraint to which the manners of Hindu Women
were subjected, even whilst they were in enjoyment, as appears
from the Drama, of considerable personal freedom.
(133 )
The fervour of attachment which unites the difierent per-
sonages 01 the Drama soindisso'.ubly in life and vU-r.th, is cre-
ditable to tlie national character. Unless instancesof such dis-
interested union had existed, the Author could scarcely have
conceived, much less depictured it.
There is no great discrimination of character in the piece,
nor could it be well expected as the business is so limited.
It is not however wholy wanting and Makaranda and
Madayantikd are much less mere lovers than Mudhava
and Mdlali. The cautious, though devoted, perseverance of
Kdmandaki is well maintained throughout, and the benevo-.
lence of Sdudamini is well contrasted Avith the malignity of
Kapdouknn dald.
The incidents of the story are varied, and some of them
are highly drarnr.tic — they are rather diffusely spread out,
but they are all essential to the denouement, the concurrence
of ill parties in the union of the lovers.
There is more passion in the thoughts o£Bhavabhuli than
in those o£ Kail Ids a but less fancy. '1 here ar3 few of the
elegant similitu les in .iiichthe latter is so rich, and tliere is
more, that is common plac;>, and much that is strained ar.d
obscure. In rone of his dr.-.i^iias does BhcvdJit:!'!. in;.!;.? nnv
attempt st wit, and we Lav.,' no charact(;r in eitlier oflsis
three dramas approaching the J^i inshaka of cither of the t-vo
precediii^- pieces — on tiie otherhaodhe expatiates ?-norelar;;e-
ly in the d. c •" -tic : of p cturesque scenery, and in the re-
presentation i*f i}u'i)an e:notici: , anu :sppr!:;!ps ei I : . >
even a higher ])\:xce, thr. i Lio .v;;!, as a .. t
VTTARA RAMA CFIERITRA,
CONTINUATION OF THE HISTORY OF RAMJ,
A DRAMA
TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL
SANSCRIT,
BY
Horace Hayman Wilson, Esq.
Secrelary lo the Asiatic Society of Bengal, Sjc.
CALCUTTA :
y. HOLGROFT, ASIATIC PRESS.
}^Q. 3, Cmncil House Sired.
182G.
UTTARA RAMA CHERllRA,
OR
CONTINUATION OF THE HISTORY OF RAMA.
The Uttara Rihiia Chcrilra, or Continuation of the His-
tory of Rama, is one of the three Dramas attributed to Bha^
vabhtUi, and the internal evidence of the composition fully
corroborates the traditional appropriation. The style is
equally vigorous and harmonious as that of Mdlati and
Mcidhava, several of the sentiments found in that play recur
in this, and the ^neral character of the two Dramas not-
withstanding the difference of their subjects offers many
analogies. We have the same picturesque description, and
strong pathos , in both.
The subject of the Uttara Rdma Cheritra is, as the name
impl'-es, a continuation of the history of Rama, the prince of
AyodJujn, and comprises the events that occurred subsequent
to the war which constitutes the subject of the Rdmayaiia.
It is taken from the last or supplementary section of that
poem, one of the two principal poetical works of the Hindus
not wholly mythological, and which have some pretensions
to be included in the Epic class. It is however moi'e
correctly speaking a continuation of a play by the same
author, the Vira Rama Cheritra, in which the martial exploits
of Rdma as described in the Rdmdyana are dramatised.
The date at which the Uttara Rdma Cheritra was composed,
cannot be deduced with certainty from any thing that occurs
in the course of the play. It offers nothing however that is
incompatible with the period, at which the author is said to
( n )
liavo flourished, or the eighth centur}^ as noticed in the
introdiiction to Mdlali and MacJhava. The style is classical^
and although elaborate, is not deformed by extravagant re-
finement. The thouglits are pure, and undisgraced by con-
celt'^, and altogether the composition belongs to the era of
good taste in Hindu writing. But the most decided
evidence of an ea;*ly date is furnished by the allusions to the
Vedas_, and to some parts of the Hindu ritual which are not
now familiarly known, and which there is reason to think have
long fallen into disuse. The condition of the Hindu religion
must have been very different, v/heu this Drama was com-
pos?:!, from any under which it has been observable for some
centuries past.
The story of Rama has been communicated to European
readers so fullv\ in the writings of Jones, Wilford, IMaurice,
Ward, and Faber, as well as in the Hindu Pantheon of
JMoor, and in the translation of the two first books of the
Humdyana by the Revd. Messrs. Carey and Marshman of
Seiampore, as well as probably by this time in the translation
of the whole poem by Augustus Schlegel, that the events
which precede the action of the following Drama, will be
familiar to many of those who may peruse it. In order
however to render it intelligible to those to whom the story
may be unknown, a brief recapitulation of the previous ad-
ventures of its hero may not be superfluous. The author
himself has not thought a preparation of this kind unnecessary
even for a Hindu audience, as he has introduced, with some
ingenuity, a summary sketch of the leading incidents of
lliimds previous career. A reference to the notes accompa-
nying tliat part of the Drama will more fully explain the
( iii )
circumstances there alluded to, and supply some particulars
of llamas adventures not comprised in the following brief
narrative.
'Ihe Deities of tho Hindu Pantheon by no means enjoy
undisturbed possession of divinitj', and they are obliged to
contend for their own supremacy, or for the protection of
I'^e world, with various formidable races known as Asuras,
Dailijos, Divavas, and Kdlcshasas, ox different orders of Tita-
nic arid Gigantic beings of super human strength and vita-
lity, who from tlic earliest periods,
Extruc':'e monies ad sider?, sumnia parabant,
Et magnum bello solicitare Jovem —
Of these, the Rukshasas bear the least of a celestial cha-
racter, and bL'long to the malignant creations of ancient and
m^tderii fable, wJio to gigantic strength and stature xiriite