  Soon as he saw the prince's mind To rest that day was well inclined, He sought KaikeyÍ's son to please With hospitable courtesies. Then Bharat to the saint replied: “Our wants are more than satisfied. The gifts which honoured strangers greet, And water for our weary feet Hast thou bestowed with friendly care, And every choice of woodland fare.” Then BharadvÁja spoke, a smile Playing upon his lips the while: “I know, dear Prince, thy friendly mind Will any fare sufficient find, But gladly would I entertain And banquet all thine armed train: Such is my earnest wish: do thou This longing of my heart allow, Why hast thou hither bent thy way, And made thy troops behind thee stay? [pg 198]Why unattended? couldst thou not With friends and army seek this spot?” Bharat, with reverent hands raised high, To that great hermit made reply: “My troops, for awe of thee, O Sage, I brought not to thy hermitage: Troops of a king or monarch's son A hermit's home should ever shun. Behind me comes a mighty train Wide spreading o'er the ample plain, Where every chief and captain leads Men, elephants, and mettled steeds. I feared, O reverend Sage, lest these Might harm the holy ground and trees, Springs might be marred and cots o'erthrown, So with the priests I came alone.” “Bring all thy host,” the hermit cried, And Bharat, to his joy, complied. Then to the chapel went the sire, Where ever burnt the sacred fire, And first, in order due, with sips Of water purified his lips: To Vi?vakarmÁ, then he prayed, His hospitable feast to aid: “Let Vi?vakarmÁ hear my call, The God who forms and fashions all: A mighty banquet I provide, Be all my wants this day supplied. Lord Indra at their head, the three365 Who guard the worlds I call to me: A mighty host this day I feed, Be now supplied my every need. Let all the streams that eastward go, And those whose waters westering flow, Both on the earth and in the sky, Flow hither and my wants supply. Be some with ardent liquor filled, And some with wine from flowers distilled, While some their fresh cool streams retain Sweet as the juice of sugar-cane. I call the Gods, I call the band Of minstrels that around them stand: I call the HÁhÁ and HuhÚ, I call the sweet Vi?vÁvasu, I call the heavenly wives of these With all the bright Apsarases, AlambÚshÁ of beauty rare, The charmer of the tangled hair, GhritÁchÍ and Vi?vÁchi fair, HemÁ and BhÍmÁ sweet to view, And lovely NÁgadantÁ too, And all the sweetest nymphs who stand By Indra or by BrahmÁ's hand— I summon these with all their train And Tumburu to lead the strain. Here let Kuvera's garden rise Which far in Northern Kuru366 lies: For leaves let cloth and gems entwine, And let its fruit be nymphs divine. Let Soma367 give the noblest food To feed the mighty multitude, Of every kind, for tooth and lip, |
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