rth to banishment."

Thus high-souled Bharat, mid the crowd,
Lifted his voice and cried aloud.
Kausalya heard, she raised her head,
And quickly to Sumitra said:
"Bharat, Kaikeyi's son is here,--
Hers whose fell deeds I loathe and fear:
That youth of foresight keen I fain
Would meet and see his face again."
Thus to Sumitra spake the dame,
And straight to Bharat's presence came
With altered mien, neglected dress,
Trembling and faint with sore distress.
Bharat, Satrughna by his side,
To meet her, toward her palace hied.
And when the royal dame they viewed
Distressed with dire solicitude,
Sad, fallen senseless on the ground,
About her neck their arms they wound.
The noble matron prostrate there,
Embraced, with tears, the weeping pair,
And with her load of grief oppressed,
To Bharat then these words addressed:
"Now all is thine, without a foe,
This realm for which thou longest so.
Ah, soon Kaikeyi's ruthless hand
Has won the empire of the land,
And made my guiltless Rama flee
Dressed like some lonely devotee.
Herein what profit has the queen,
Whose eye delights in havoc, seen?
Me also, me 'twere surely good
To banish to the distant wood,
To dwell amid the shades that hold
My famous son with limbs like gold.
Nay, with the sacred fire to guide,
Will I, Sumitra by my side,
Myself to the drear wood repair
And seek the son of Raghu there.
This land which rice and golden corn
And wealth of every kind adorn,
Car, elephant, and steed, and gem,--
She makes thee lord of it and them."

With taunts like these her bitter tongue
The heart of blameless Bharat wrung
And direr pangs his bosom tore
Than when the lancet probes a sore.
With troubled senses all astray
Prone at her feet he fell and lay.
With loud lament a while he plained,
And slowly strength and sense regained.
With suppliant hand to hand applied
He turned to her who wept and sighed,
And thus bespake the queen, whose breast
With sundry woes was sore distressed:
"Why these reproaches, noble dame?
I, knowing naught, am free from blame.
Thou knowest well what love was mine
For Rama, chief of Raghu's line.
O, never be his darkened mind
To Scripture's guiding lore inclined,
By whose consent the prince who led
The good, the truthful hero, fled.
May he obey the vilest lord,
Offend the sun with act abhorred,(350)
And strike a sleeping cow, who lent
His voice to Rama's banishment.
May the good king who all befriends,
And, like his sons, the people ten