Ancient Ballads and Legends of Hindustan | Page 6

We play,--we jest,--we have no care,-- When hark a step,--there comes no crash,-- But life, or silent slow despair. Their eyes just met,--Savitri past Into the friendly Muni's hut, Her heart-rose opened had at last-- Opened no flower can ever shut.
In converse with the gray-haired sage She learnt the story of the youth, His name and place and parentage-- Of royal race he was in truth. Satyavan was he hight,--his sire Dyoumatsen had been Salva's king, But old and blind, opponents dire Had gathered round him in a ring And snatched the sceptre from his hand; Now,--with his queen and only son He lived a hermit in the land, And gentler hermit was there none.
With many tears was said and heard The story,--and with praise sincere Of Prince Satyavan; every word Sent up a flush on cheek and ear, Unnoticed. Hark! The bells remind 'Tis time to go,--she went away, Leaving her virgin heart behind, And richer for the loss. A ray, Shot down from heaven, appeared to tinge All objects with supernal light, The thatches had a rainbow fringe, The cornfields looked more green and bright.
Savitri's first care was to tell Her mother all her feelings new; The queen her own fears to dispel To the king's private chamber flew. "Now what is it, my gentle queen, That makes thee hurry in this wise?" She told him, smiles and tears between, All she had heard; the king with sighs Sadly replied:--"I fear me much! Whence is his race and what his creed? Not knowing aught, can we in such A matter delicate, proceed?"
As if the king's doubts to allay, Came Narad Muni to the place A few days after. Old and gray, All loved to see the gossip's face, Great Brahma's son,--adored of men, Long absent, doubly welcome he Unto the monarch, hoping then By his assistance, clear to see. No god in heaven, nor king on earth, But Narad knew his history,-- The sun's, the moon's, the planets' birth Was not to him a mystery.
"Now welcome, welcome, dear old friend, All hail, and welcome once again!" The greeting had not reached its end, When glided like a music-strain Savitri's presence through the room.-- "And who is this bright creature, say, Whose radiance lights the chamber's gloom-- Is she an Apsara or fay?" "No son thy servant hath, alas! This is my one,--my only child;"-- "And married?"--"No."--"The seasons pass, Make haste, O king,"--he said, and smiled.
"That is the very theme, O sage, In which thy wisdom ripe I need; Seen hath she at the hermitage A youth to whom in very deed Her heart inclines."--"And who is he?" "My daughter, tell his name and race, Speak as to men who best love thee." She turned to them her modest face, And answered quietly and clear.-- "Ah, no! ah, no!--It cannot be-- Choose out another husband, dear,"-- The Muni cried,--"or woe is me!"
"And why should I? When I have given My heart away, though but in thought, Can I take back? Forbid it, Heaven! It were a deadly sin, I wot. And why should I? I know no crime In him or his."--"Believe me, child, My reasons shall be clear in time, I speak not like a madman wild; Trust me in this."--"I cannot break A plighted faith,--I cannot bear A wounded conscience."--"Oh, forsake This fancy, hence may spring despair."--
"It may not be."--The father heard By turns the speakers, and in doubt Thus interposed a gentle word,-- "Friend should to friend his mind speak out, Is he not worthy? tell us."--"Nay, All worthiness is in Satyavan, And no one can my praise gainsay: Of solar race--more god than man! Great Soorasen, his ancestor, And Dyoumatsen his father blind Are known to fame: I can aver No kings have been so good and kind."
"Then where, O Muni, is the bar? If wealth be gone, and kingdom lost, His merit still remains a star, Nor melts his lineage like the frost. For riches, worldly power, or rank I care not,--I would have my son Pure, wise, and brave,--the Fates I thank I see no hindrance, no, not one." "Since thou insistest, King, to hear The fatal truth,--I tell you,--I, Upon this day as rounds the year The young Prince Satyavan shall die."
This was enough. The monarch knew The future was no seal��d book To Brahma's son. A clammy dew Spread on his brow,--he gently took Savitri's palm in his, and said: "No child can give away her hand, A pledge is nought unsanction��d; And here, if right I understand, There was no pledge at all,--a thought, A shadow,--barely crossed the mind-- Unblamed, it may be clean forgot, Before the gods it cannot bind.
"And think upon the dreadful curse Of widowhood; the vigils, fasts, And penances; no life is worse Than hopeless life,--the