Nala and Damayanti and Other Poems.

by Henry Hart Milman.

PREFACE.

Those friends who have taken an interest in my literary productions may feel some surprise at my appearance in the character of a translator of Sanscrit poetry. To those, and indeed to all who may take up the present volume, I owe some explanation of my pretensions as a faithful interpreter of my original text. Those pretensions are very humble; and I can unfeignedly say, that if the field had been likely to be occupied by others, who might unite poetical powers with a profound knowledge of the sacred language of India, I should have withdrawn at once from the compet.i.tion. But, in fact, in this country the students of oriental literature, endowed with a taste and feeling for poetry, are so few in number, that any attempt to make known the peculiar character of those remarkable works, the old mythological epics of India, may be received with indulgence by all who are interested in the history of poetry. Mr. Wilson alone, since Sir W.

Jones, has united a poetical genius with deep Sanscrit scholarship; but he has in general preferred the later and more polished period--that of Kalidasa and the dramatists--to the ruder, yet in my opinion, not less curious and poetical strains of the older epic bards.

A brief account of the manner in which I became engaged in these studies, will best explain the extent of my proficiency. During the two last years in which I held the office of Professor of Poetry in the University of Oxford, having exhausted the subject which I had chosen for my terminal course, I was at a loss for some materials for the few remaining lectures before my office should expire. I had been led by the ardent curiosity, which I have ever felt to acquire some knowledge of the poetry of all ages and nations--to examine some of the publications of French and German, as well as English scholars, on the subject of Indian poetry; chiefly those of the Schlegels, of Bopp, and of De Chezy. I was struck with the singularity and captivated by the extreme beauty, as it appeared to me, of some of the extracts, especially those from the great epic poems, the Mahabharata and the Ramayana, in their Homeric simplicity so totally opposite to the ordinary notions entertained of all eastern poetry. I was induced to attempt, without any instruction, and with the few elementary works which could be procured, the Grammars of Wilkins and Bopp, the Glossaries of Bopp and Rosen (Mr. Wilson's Dictionary was then out of print and could not be purchased), to obtain some knowledge of this wonderful and mysterious language. The study grew upon me, and would have been pursued with more ardour, perhaps with more success, but for the constant interruption of more imperative professional and literary avocations. In itself the Sanscrit is an inexhaustible subject of interest; in its grammatical structure more regular, artificial, and copious than the most perfect of the western languages; in its origin, the parent from which the older Greek, the Latin and the Teutonic tongues seem to branch out and develop themselves upon distinct and discernible principles.

I ventured to communicate to the Members of the University who attended my lectures, my discoveries, as it were, in the unknown region of Indian poetry, and to introduce translations of such pa.s.sages as appeared to me of peculiar singularity or beauty. Though I was still moving in the leading-strings of my learned guides, I had obtained sufficient acquaintance with the language to compare their interpretations with the original text. I afterwards embodied some parts of my lectures in an article in the Quarterly Review, in order to contribute as far as was in my power to open this new and almost untrodden field of literature to the English reader.

Still I should not have presumed to form these translations into a separate work, nor acceded to the proposal of the publisher of the present volume, who has himself deserved so well of the students of oriental lore by his excellent translation, or rather recomposition of Adelung's "Historical Sketch of Sanscrit Literature," but for the encouragement and a.s.sistance of Mr. Wilson, now, the University may be proud to say, the Boden Professor of Sanscrit at Oxford. To his most friendly care in revising these sheets, I owe the correction of many errors; and Sanscrit scholars will find in the notes some observations on the text, which will contribute to elucidate the poem of Nala.

Under the sanction of Mr. Wilson's revision, I may venture to hope that the translation is, at least, an accurate version of the original; and I cannot too strongly express my grat.i.tude for the labour which Mr. Wilson has been so kind as to expend on my imperfect and unpretending work.

The versification, or rather the metrical system, which I have adopted, is an experiment, how far a successful one must be judged by others. The original verse in which the vast epics of Vyasa and Valmiki are composed is called the Sloka, which is thus described by Schlegel in his Indische Bibliothek, p. 36: "The oldest, most simple, and most generally adopted measure is the Sloka; a distich of two sixteen syllable-lines, divided at the eighth syllable." According to our prosodial marks, the following is the scheme:--

u u u u

u - - -

u u u u

u - u - - - - -

u

- - - -

u

u u u u

u - - -

u u u u

u - u u - - - -

- u

- - - -

-

The first four syllables are bound by no rule; the second half, on the contrary, is unalterably fixed, excepting that the last syllable has the common licence of termination. In the second half verse, I do not remember a single instance of deviation from this, though sometimes, but very seldom, the first half verse ends with another quadrisyllable foot. The reader who is curious on the subject, may compare Mr.

Colebrooke's elaborate essays on Sanscrit poetry, Kosegarten's preface to his Translation of Nala, and Bopp's preface to his Translation of Selections from the Mahabharata.

In the first translations which I attempted, a few pa.s.sages from the Bhagavat-Gita, I adhered as nearly as possible to the measure of the original; in the Nala, in order to give the narrative a more easy and trochaic flow, I omitted one syllable, and in some degree changed the structure of the verse.

_July_ 1835.

NALA AND DAMAYANTI.

The episode of Nala is extracted from the Vanaparvam, the third part of the Mahabharata, the great Indian poem, which contains 100,000 slokas, or distichs. The sage, Vrihadasva, relates the story of Nala to king Yudishthira, in order to console him under the miseries to which he was exposed by bad success in play. By the terms of the gaming transaction, in which he was worsted by Sakuni, who threw the dice for Duryodhana, he was condemned to wander with his brothers for twelve years in the forest. The adventures of Nala showed how that king, having been in the same manner unfortunate with the dice, had suffered still greater toil and misery, and had at length recovered his kingdom and his wife. The popularity of this fable with the natives, is sufficiently proved by the numerous poetic versions of the story. The Nalodaya, a poem ascribed to Kalidas, should first be mentioned. A new edition of this work has been recently published by Ferdinand Benary; we have a notice of it in the Quarterly Review: it seems to bear the same relation to the simple and national episode of the Mahabharata, as the seicentesti of Italy to Dante or Arosto, or Gongora to the poem of the Cid. Another poem called Naishadha, in twenty-two books, does not complete the story, but only carries it as far as the fifteenth book. There is a Tamulic version of the same story, translated by Kindersley, in his specimens of Hindu Literature.

The third book of the poem of Sriharsha, containing 135 slokas, is entirely occupied with the conversation between Damayanti and the swans (the geese), in which the birds to excite her love, dwell with diffuse eloquence on the praises of Nala.

NALA AND DAMAYANTI.

BOOK I.

Lived of yore, a raja, Nala,--Virasena's mighty son, Gifted he with every virtue,--beauteous, skilled in taming steeds: Head of all the kings of mortals--like the monarch of the G.o.ds, Over, over all exalted[1]--in his splendour like the sun: Holy, deep-read in the Vedas[2]--in Nishadha lord of earth;[3]

Loving dice, of truth unblemished[4]--chieftain of a mighty host.

The admired of n.o.ble women--generous, with each sense subdued.[5]

Guardian of the state; of archers--best, a present Manu[6] he.

So there dwelt in high Vidarbha[7]--Bhima, terrible in strength,[8]

With all virtues blest, but childless--long for children had he pined.

Many an holy act, on offspring[9]--still intent, had he performed.

To his court there came a Brahmin,--Damana the seer was named.

Him the child-desiring Bhima--in all duties skilled, received, Feasted with his royal consort--in his hospitable hall.[10]

Pleased on him the grateful Daman,--and his queen a boon bestowed, One sweet girl, the pearl of maidens--and three fair and n.o.ble sons.

Damayanti, Dama Danta--and ill.u.s.trious Damana, Richly gifted with all virtues--mighty, fearful in their might.

Damayanti with her beauty--with her brilliance, brightness, grace, Through the worlds unrivalled glory--won the slender-waisted maid.

Her, arrived at bloom of beauty,--sate a hundred slaves around, And a hundred virgin handmaids--as around great Indra's queen.[11]

In her court shone Bhima's daughter--decked with every ornament, Mid her handmaids, like the lightning[12]--shone she with her faultless form;[13]

Like the long-eyed queen of beauty--without rival, without peer.

Never mid the G.o.ds immortal--never mid the Yaksha race,[14]

Nor 'mong men was maid so lovely--ever heard of, ever seen, As the soul-disturbing maiden--that disturbed the souls of G.o.ds.

Nala too, 'mong kings the tiger[15]--peerless among earthly men, Like Kandarpa in his beauty[16]--like that bright-embodied G.o.d.

All around Vidarbha's princess--praised they Nala in their joy.

Ever praised they Damayanti--round Nishadha's n.o.ble king.

Hearing so each others virtues--all unseen they 'gan to love.

Thus of each, O son of Kunti,[17]--the deep silent pa.s.sion grew.

Nala, in his heart impatient--longer that deep love to bear, To the grove, in secret, wandered--by the palace' inmost court.

There the swans he saw disporting[18]--with their wings bedropped with gold: Through the grove thus lightly moving--one of these bright birds he caught.

But the bird, in human language--thus the wondering king addressed: "Slay me not, O gentle monarch!--I will do thee service true; So in Damayanti's presence--will I praise Nishadha's king, Never after shall the maiden--think of mortal man but thee."

Thus addressed, at once the monarch--let the bright-winged bird depart.

Flew away the swans rejoicing--to Vidarbha straight they flew; To Vidharba's stately city:--there by Damayanti's feet, Down with drooping plumes they settled--and she gazed upon the flock, Wondering at their forms so graceful--where amid her maids she sate.

Sportively began the damsels--all around to chase the birds; Scattering flew the swans before them--all about the lovely grove.

Lightly ran the nimble maidens,--every one her bird pursued; But the swan that through the forest--gentle Damayanti chased, Suddenly, in human language--spake to Damayanti thus.-- "Damayanti, in Nishadha--Nala dwells, the n.o.ble king-- Like the Aswinas in beauty,[19]--peerless among men is he.

O incomparable princess--to this hero wert thou wed, n.o.ble birth and perfect beauty--not unworthy fruit had borne.

G.o.ds, Gandharvas,[20] men, the Serpents,[21]--and the Rakshasas[22] we've seen, All we've seen--of n.o.ble Nala--never have we seen the peer.

Pearl art thou among all women--Nala is the pride of men.

If the peerless wed the peerless--blessed must the union be."

When the bird thus strangely speaking--gentle Damayanti heard, Answered thus the wondering maiden--"Thus to Nala, speak thou too."

"Be it so," replied the egg-born--to Vidarbha's beauteous maid.

Home then flew he to Nishadha--and to Nala told it all.

BOOK II.

Damayanti, ever after--she the swan's sweet speech had heard-- With herself she dwelt no longer--all herself with Nala dwelt.

Lost in thought she sate dejected--pale her melancholy cheek, Damayanti sate and yielded--all her soul to sighs of grief.

Upward gazing, meditative--with a wild distracted look, Wan was all her soft complexion--and with pa.s.sion heart-possessed,[23]

Nor in sleep nor gentle converse--nor in banquets found she joy; Night nor day she could not slumber--Woe! oh woe! she wept and said.

Her no longer her own mistress--from her looks, her gesture, knew Damayanti's virgin handmaids--to Vidarbha's monarch they Told how pined his gentle daughter--for the sovereign of men.

This from Damayanti's maidens--when the royal Bhima heard, In his mind he gravely pondered--for his child what best were done.

"Wherefore is my gentle daughter--from herself in mind estranged?"

When the lord of earth his daughter--saw in blooming youth mature, Knew he for the Swayembara[24]--Damayanti's time was come.

Straight the lord of many peasants[25]--summoned all the chiefs of earth, "Come ye to the Swayembara--all ye heroes of the world!"