 | Carmina crucis |  |
95
SITA.
[_]
Sita, the divine spouse of Rama, is torn from him by evil genii, under whose power she long remains. When after a protracted separation, Sita is again restored to Rama, he turns from her coldly, under the idea that during her cruel bondage and long wanderings she may have met with contamination. She appeals to the ordeal of fire and flings herself within it, adjuring the flame, as searching all things, to bear witness to her purity. The fire restores her “faultless, pure, immaculate, one who has never offended against her lord in speech, in heart, in eyes.”
Death-smitten with a look
From him she loved, of doubt and question cold,
She turn'd from him she loved without rebuke,
And stood amazed; then spake out keen and bold,
As one whose grief already is too old
For fond reproach:
From him she loved, of doubt and question cold,
She turn'd from him she loved without rebuke,
And stood amazed; then spake out keen and bold,
As one whose grief already is too old
For fond reproach:
“All pain except this pain,
To live and meet his cold averted eye;
All shame, except his lofty, still disdain;
All other outrage schemed 'twixt earth and sky
I have endured for ages, still upborne
By thought of Rama's love; I meet his scorn;
Come Fire, and end this undream'd agony.”
To live and meet his cold averted eye;
All shame, except his lofty, still disdain;
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I have endured for ages, still upborne
By thought of Rama's love; I meet his scorn;
Come Fire, and end this undream'd agony.”
And even while she spake
She fell a flame within the flame, as light
As melts upon the stream a snowy flake
The fire sent forth—a thousand lambent bright
Swift flickering tongues, each one that did proclaim
Her pure and stainless, “Sita, free from blame.”
The flame caress'd her scarlet vesture's pride,
No flower that garlanded her forehead shrank,
Her bosom glow'd; as one that doth deride
Her fate she stood serene as though she drank
The flame's fierce breath.
She fell a flame within the flame, as light
As melts upon the stream a snowy flake
The fire sent forth—a thousand lambent bright
Swift flickering tongues, each one that did proclaim
Her pure and stainless, “Sita, free from blame.”
The flame caress'd her scarlet vesture's pride,
No flower that garlanded her forehead shrank,
Her bosom glow'd; as one that doth deride
Her fate she stood serene as though she drank
The flame's fierce breath.
Then sang she, “Oh, thou keen
Attesting flame! Thou callest me by name,
Thou sayest to me, Welcome, free from blame
In thought, word, deed, unstain'd! and yet the same
Were I, still Sita, still a blameless Queen,
Hadst Thou too join'd with all to work me shame!
Attesting flame! Thou callest me by name,
Thou sayest to me, Welcome, free from blame
In thought, word, deed, unstain'd! and yet the same
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Hadst Thou too join'd with all to work me shame!
Had all on Earth made cause
With all in Heaven to drag me unto ill,
I had been ever pure, and to the laws
That bound me ever true! rememb'ring still,
Rama's deep eyes, and all the heaven we shared
'Mid the high hills, in many a balmy cleft,
And chasm the warm thunder scarce had left.
Yea! let my spirit to its depths be bared,
Still were I pure! though ages past away,
And found me still the demon's scoff and prey
Through spells accurst, or left me drifted, driven
Through Hell's wide vaults; still trampled on, despised,
My soul was his, although our lives were riven,
Yea, scorn'd and outraged, agonized, abhorr'd,
Still I was Rama's love, and he was Sita's Lord!
With all in Heaven to drag me unto ill,
I had been ever pure, and to the laws
That bound me ever true! rememb'ring still,
Rama's deep eyes, and all the heaven we shared
'Mid the high hills, in many a balmy cleft,
And chasm the warm thunder scarce had left.
Yea! let my spirit to its depths be bared,
Still were I pure! though ages past away,
And found me still the demon's scoff and prey
Through spells accurst, or left me drifted, driven
Through Hell's wide vaults; still trampled on, despised,
My soul was his, although our lives were riven,
Yea, scorn'd and outraged, agonized, abhorr'd,
Still I was Rama's love, and he was Sita's Lord!
And Thou, oh, champion, late
And sure! Thou Fire that, searching all things, dost proclaim
Me pure and stainless! Sita, free from blame!
Hadst thou, too, leagued thyself with iron Fate,
Hadst join'd the cruel earth and bitter sky
To leave forsaken Sita desolate;
Then from itself unto itself my soul
Would witness to the whole;
Still to itself my heart would testify
And prove me Sita! Sita still the pride
Of Heaven, the cherish'd Bride
Of Rama, fair and uncontaminate.”
And sure! Thou Fire that, searching all things, dost proclaim
Me pure and stainless! Sita, free from blame!
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Hadst join'd the cruel earth and bitter sky
To leave forsaken Sita desolate;
Then from itself unto itself my soul
Would witness to the whole;
Still to itself my heart would testify
And prove me Sita! Sita still the pride
Of Heaven, the cherish'd Bride
Of Rama, fair and uncontaminate.”
She ceased, nor to the sky
Nor sun appealing turned; nor yet the eye
Of Rama sought; but stood as one compelled
To speak the words she utter'd, not in pride,
Nor wrath, nor scorn, but even as impell'd
By stedfast truth. So stood she, self-upheld,
And before all the worlds, self-justified.
Nor sun appealing turned; nor yet the eye
Of Rama sought; but stood as one compelled
To speak the words she utter'd, not in pride,
Nor wrath, nor scorn, but even as impell'd
By stedfast truth. So stood she, self-upheld,
And before all the worlds, self-justified.
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