day.
This realm of peerless wealth accept,
And like thy father sway."

Canto CXI. Counsel To Bharat.

Thus said Vasishtha, and again
To Rama spake in duteous strain:
"All men the light of life who see
With high respect should look on three:
High honour ne'er must be denied
To father, mother, holy guide.
First to their sires their birth they owe,
Nursed with maternal love they grow:
Their holy guides fair knowledge teach:
So men should love and honour each.
Thy sire and thou have learned of me,
The sacred guide of him and thee,
And if my word thou wilt obey
Thou still wilt keep the virtuous way.
See, with the chiefs of every guild
And all thy friends, this place is filled:
All these, as duty bids, protect;
So still the righteous path respect.
O, for thine aged mother feel,
Nor spurn the virtuous dame's appeal:
Obey, O Prince, thy mother dear,
And still to virtue's path adhere.
Yield thou to Bharat's fond request,
With earnest supplication pressed,
So wilt thou to thyself be true,
And faith and duty still pursue."

Thus by his saintly guide addressed
With pleas in sweetest tones expressed,
The lord of men in turn replied
To wise Vasishtha by his side:
"The fondest son's observance ne'er
Repays the sire and mother's care:
The constant love that food provides,
And dress, and every need besides:
Their pleasant words still soft and mild,
Their nurture of the helpless child:
The words which Dasaratha spake,
My king and sire, I ne'er will break."

Then Bharat of the ample chest
The wise Sumantra thus addressed;
"Bring sacred grass, O charioteer,
And strew it on the level here.
For I will sit and watch his face
Until I win my brother's grace.
Like a robbed Brahman will I lie,(393)
Nor taste of food nor turn my eye,
In front of Rama's leafy cot,
And till he yield will leave him not."

When Bharat saw Sumantra's eye
Looked up to Rama for reply,
The Prince himself in eager haste
The sacred grass in order placed.
Him great and mighty Rama, best
Of royal saints, in turn addressed:
"What, Bharat, have I done, that thou
Besiegest me,(394) a suppliant now?
Thus streched, to force redress for wrongs
To men of Brahman birth belongs,
Not those upon whose kingly head
The consecrating drops are shed.
Up, lord of men! arise, and quit
This fearful vow for thee unfit.
Go, brother, seek Ayodhya's town,
Fair city of supreme renown."

But Bharat, as his seat he took,
Cast all around an ea