The Light of Asia | Page 7

and shook the bit, and held?The proud jaws fast with grasp of master-hand,?So that in storms of wrath and rage and fear?The savage stallion circled once the plain?Half-tamed; but sudden turned with naked teeth,?Gripped by the foot Ardjuna, tore him down,?And would have slain him, but the grooms ran in,?Fettering the maddened beast. Then all men cried,?"Let not Siddartha meddle with this Bhut,?Whose liver is a tempest, and his blood?Red flame;" but the Prince said, "Let go the chains,?Give me his forelock only," which he held?With quiet grasp, and, speaking some low word,?Laid his right palm across the stallion's eyes,?And drew it gently down the angry face,?And all along the neck and panting flanks,?Till men astonished saw the night-black horse?Sink his fierce crest and stand subdued and meek,?As though he knew our Lord and worshipped him.?Nor stirred he while Siddartha mounted, then?Went soberly to touch of knee and rein?Before all eyes, so that the people said,?"Strive no more, for Siddartha is the best."
And all the suitors answered "He is best!"?And Suprabuddha, father of the maid,?Said, "It was in our hearts to find thee best,?Being dearest, yet what magic taught thee more?Of manhood 'mid thy rose-bowers and thy dreams?Than war and chase and world's work bring to these??But wear, fair Prince, the treasure thou halt won."?Then at a word the lovely Indian girl?Rose from her place above the throng, and took?A crown of mogra-flowers and lightly drew?The veil of black and gold across her brow,?Proud pacing past the youths, until she came?To where Siddartha stood in grace divine,?New lighted from the night-dark steed, which bent?Its strong neck meekly underneath his arm.?Before the Prince lowly she bowed, and bared?Her face celestial beaming with glad love;?Then on his neck she hung the fragrant wreath,?And on his breast she laid her perfect head,?And stooped to touch his feet with proud glad eyes,?Saying, "Dear Prince, behold me, who am thine!"?And all the throng rejoiced, seeing them pass?Hand fast in hand, and heart beating with heart,?The veil of black and gold drawn close again.
Long after--when enlightenment was come--?They prayed Lord Buddha touching all, and why?She wore this black and gold, and stepped so proud.?And the World-honoured answered, "Unto me?This was unknown, albeit it seemed half known;?For while the wheel of birth and death turns round,?Past things and thoughts, and buried lives come back.?I now remember, myriad rains ago,?What time I roamed Himala's hanging woods,?A tiger, with my striped and hungry kind;?I, who am Buddh, couched in the kusa grass?Gazing with green blinked eyes upon the herds?Which pastured near and nearer to their death?Round my day-lair; or underneath the stars?I roamed for prey, savage, insatiable,?Sniffing the paths for track of man and deer.?Amid the beasts that were my fellows then,?Met in deep jungle or by reedy jheel,?A tigress, comeliest of the forest, set?The males at war; her hide was lit with gold,?Black-broidered like the veil Yasodhara?Wore for me; hot the strife waged in that wood?With tooth and claw, while underneath a neem?The fair beast watched us bleed, thus fiercely wooed.?And I remember, at the end she came?Snarling past this and that torn forest-lord?Which I had conquered, and with fawning jaws?Licked my quick-heaving flank, and with me went?Into the wild with proud steps, amorously.?The wheel of birth and death turns low and high."
Therefore the maid was given unto the Prince?A willing spoil; and when the stars were good--?Mesha, the Red Ram, being Lord of heaven--?The marriage feast was kept, as Sakyas use,?The golden gadi set, the carpet spread,?The wedding garlands hung, the arm-threads tied,?The sweet cake broke, the rice and attar thrown,?The two straws floated on the reddened milk,?Which, coming close, betokened "love till death;"?The seven steps taken thrice around the fire,?The gifts bestowed on holy men, the alms?And temple offerings made, the mantras sung,?The garments of the bride and bridegroom tied.?Then the grey father spake: "Worshipful Prince,?She that was ours henceforth is only thine;?Be good to her, who hath her life in thee."?Wherewith they brought home sweet Yasodhara,?With songs and trumpets, to the Prince's arms,?And love was all in all.
Yet not to love?Alone trusted the King; love's prison-house?Stately and beautiful he bade them build,?So that in all the earth no marvel was?Like Vishramvan, the Prince's pleasure-place.?Midway in those wide palace-grounds there rose?A verdant hill whose base Rohini bathed,?Murmuring adown from Himalay's broad feet,?To bear its tribute into Gunga's waves.?Southward a growth of tamarind trees and sal,?Thick set with pale sky-coloured ganthi flowers,?Shut out the world, save if the city's hum?Came on the wind no harsher than when bees?Hum out of sight in thickets. Northward soared?The stainless ramps of huge Hamala's wall,?Ranged in white ranks against the blue-untrod?Infinite, wonderful--whose uplands vast,?And lifted universe of crest and crag,?Shoulder and shelf, green slope and icy horn,?Riven ravine, and splintered precipice?Led climbing thought higher and higher, until?It seemed to stand in