Lotus and Jewel Containing "In an Indian Temple", "A Casket of Gems", "A Queen's Revenge": With Other Poems: By Edwin Arnold |
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A Rajpût Nurse.
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A Rajpût Nurse.
“Whose tomb have they builded, Vittoo! under this tamarind tree,
With its door of the rose-veined marble, and white dome stately to see,
Was he holy Brahman, or Yogi, or Chief of the Rajpût line,
Whose urn rests here by the river, in the shade of the beautiful shrine?”
With its door of the rose-veined marble, and white dome stately to see,
Was he holy Brahman, or Yogi, or Chief of the Rajpût line,
Whose urn rests here by the river, in the shade of the beautiful shrine?”
“May it please you,” quoth Vittoo, salaaming, “Protector of all the poor!
It was not for holy Brahman they carved that delicate door;
Nor for Yogi, nor Rajpût Rana, built they this gem of our land;
But to tell of a Rajpût woman, as long as the stones should stand.
It was not for holy Brahman they carved that delicate door;
Nor for Yogi, nor Rajpût Rana, built they this gem of our land;
But to tell of a Rajpût woman, as long as the stones should stand.
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“Her name was Môti, the pearl-name; 'twas far in the ancient times;
But her moon-like face and her teeth of pearl are sung of still in our rhymes;
And because she was young, and comely, and of good repute, and had laid
A babe in the arms of her husband, the Palace-Nurse she was made:
But her moon-like face and her teeth of pearl are sung of still in our rhymes;
And because she was young, and comely, and of good repute, and had laid
A babe in the arms of her husband, the Palace-Nurse she was made:
“For the sweet chief-queen of the Rana in Joudhpore city had died,
Leaving a motherless infant, the heir to that race of pride;
The heir of the peacock-banner, of the five-coloured flag, of the throne
Which traces its record of glory from days when it ruled alone;
Leaving a motherless infant, the heir to that race of pride;
The heir of the peacock-banner, of the five-coloured flag, of the throne
Which traces its record of glory from days when it ruled alone;
“From times when, forth from the sunlight,
the first of our kings came down
And had the earth for his footstool, and wore the stars for his crown,
As all good Rajpûts have told us; so Môti was proud and true,
With the Prince of the land on her bosom, and her own brown baby too.
And had the earth for his footstool, and wore the stars for his crown,
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With the Prince of the land on her bosom, and her own brown baby too.
“And the Rajpût women will have it (I know not myself of these things)
As the two babes lay on her lap there, her lord's, and the Joudhpore King's;
So loyal was the blood of her body, so fast the faith of her heart,
It passed to her new-born infant, who took of her trust its part.
As the two babes lay on her lap there, her lord's, and the Joudhpore King's;
So loyal was the blood of her body, so fast the faith of her heart,
It passed to her new-born infant, who took of her trust its part.
“He would not suck of the breast-milk till the Prince had drunken his fill;
He would not sleep to the cradle-song till the Prince was lulled and still;
And he lay at night with his small arms clasped round the Rana's child,
As if those hands like the rose-leaf could shelter from treason wild.
He would not sleep to the cradle-song till the Prince was lulled and still;
And he lay at night with his small arms clasped round the Rana's child,
As if those hands like the rose-leaf could shelter from treason wild.
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“For treason was wild in the country, and villainous men had sought
The life of the heir of the gadi, to the Palace in secret brought;
With bribes to the base, and with knife-thrusts for the faithful, they made their way
Through the line of the guards, and the gateways, to the hall where the women lay.
The life of the heir of the gadi, to the Palace in secret brought;
With bribes to the base, and with knife-thrusts for the faithful, they made their way
Through the line of the guards, and the gateways, to the hall where the women lay.
“There Môti, the foster-mother, sate singing the children to rest
Her baby at play on her crossed knees, and the King's son held to her breast;
And the dark slave-maidens round her beat low on the cymbal's skin
Keeping the time of her soft song—when—Saheb!— there hurried in
Her baby at play on her crossed knees, and the King's son held to her breast;
And the dark slave-maidens round her beat low on the cymbal's skin
Keeping the time of her soft song—when—Saheb!— there hurried in
“A breathless watcher, who whispered, with horror in eyes and face:
‘Oh! Môti! men come to murder my Lord the Prince in this place!
They have bought the help of the gate-guards, or slaughtered them unawares,
Hark! that is the noise of their tulwars, the clatter upon the stairs!”
‘Oh! Môti! men come to murder my Lord the Prince in this place!
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Hark! that is the noise of their tulwars, the clatter upon the stairs!”
“For one breath she caught her baby from her lap to her heart, and let
The King's child sink from her nipple, with lips still clinging and wet,
Then tore from the Prince his head-cloth, and the putta of pearls from his waist,
And bound the belt on her infant, and the cap on his brows, in haste;
The King's child sink from her nipple, with lips still clinging and wet,
Then tore from the Prince his head-cloth, and the putta of pearls from his waist,
And bound the belt on her infant, and the cap on his brows, in haste;
“And laid her own dear offspring, her flesh and blood, on the floor,
With the girdle of pearls around him, and the cap that the King's son wore;
While close to her heart, which was breaking, she folded the Râja's joy,
And—even as the murderers lifted the purdah—she fled with his boy.
With the girdle of pearls around him, and the cap that the King's son wore;
While close to her heart, which was breaking, she folded the Râja's joy,
And—even as the murderers lifted the purdah—she fled with his boy.
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“But there (so they deemed) in his jewels, lay the Chota Rana,
the Heir;
‘The cow with two calves has escaped us,’ cried one, ‘it is right and fair
She should save her own butcha; no matter! the edge of the dagger ends
This spark of Lord Raghoba's sunlight; stab thrice and four times, O friends!’
‘The cow with two calves has escaped us,’ cried one, ‘it is right and fair
She should save her own butcha; no matter! the edge of the dagger ends
This spark of Lord Raghoba's sunlight; stab thrice and four times, O friends!’
“And the Rajpût women will have it (I know not if this can be so)
That Môti's son in the putta and golden cap cooed low,
When the sharp blades met in his small heart, with never one moan or wince,
But died with a babe's light laughter, because he died for his Prince.
That Môti's son in the putta and golden cap cooed low,
When the sharp blades met in his small heart, with never one moan or wince,
But died with a babe's light laughter, because he died for his Prince.
“Thereby did that Rajpût mother preserve the line of our Kings.”
“Oh! Vittoo,” I said, “but they gave her much gold and beautiful things,
And garments, and land for her people, and a home in the Palace! May be
She had grown to love that Princeling even more than the child on her knee.”
“Oh! Vittoo,” I said, “but they gave her much gold and beautiful things,
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She had grown to love that Princeling even more than the child on her knee.”
“May it please the Presence!” quoth Vittoo,“it seemeth not so! they gave
The gold and the garments and jewels, as much as the proudest would have;
But the same night deep in her true heart she buried a knife, and smiled,
Saying this:‘I have saved my Rana! I must go to suckle my child!’””
The gold and the garments and jewels, as much as the proudest would have;
But the same night deep in her true heart she buried a knife, and smiled,
Saying this:‘I have saved my Rana! I must go to suckle my child!’””
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