The Story Of Rudra.

    A deep calm sea; on the blue waters toiled,
    From morn till eve, the simple fishermen;
    And, on the beach, there stood a group of huts
    Before whose gates old men sat mending nets
    And eyed with secret joy the little boys
    That gaily gambolled on the sandy beach
    Regardless of their parents' daily toils.
    And all the busy women left their homes
    And their young ones with baskets on their heads
    Filled with the finny treasures of the deep.

    A thousand yards to landward rose a town
    With its broad streets, high roofs, and busy marts.
    An ancient temple in the centre stood,
    Where to his servant Nandi once appeared
    Great Siva, it is said, in human frame.
    E'en learned saints sang of the holy shrine;
    And to this sacred spot from far-off lands
    For adoration countless pilgrims came
    And men to buy all rarest things that poured
    Into her busy marts from foreign parts.

    Here in this ancient port of Nundipore
    In royal splendour lived a merchant youth,
    Who scarce had reached his one-and-twentieth year.
    His aged father had but lately died
    And left him the sole heir of all his wealth.
    And Rudra - for that was the brave youth's name -
    Had heard from infant days full many tales
    Of how his grandsire and his sire had braved
    The perils of the deep in search of gold,
    And in his bosom fondly nurtured hopes
    To travel likewise on the dang'rous sea.
    And oft would he to Rati, his fair wife,
    Exulting tell how wisely he would trade
    In foreign shores and with rare gems return;
    How even princes, by those gems allured,
    To court his friendship come from distant lands,
    And he dictate his own high terms to them,
    And thus add glory to his glorious house.
    And often would she vainly plead in turn
    Her desolate position and her youth.
    And her dear lord implore upon her knees
    For ever to dismiss his cherished thoughts
    And turn to her and to their lordly wealth
    Which God had given them, to live in peace.
    Thus wrangled for some months the timid wife
    And he whom woman's charms could not subdue
    Until at last arrived th' appointed day.
    The little ship was waiting in the port,
    And Rudra to his youthful wife repaired
    His purpose to disclose; and as at times
    Clouds hover over us and darken all
    The sky for days, and still no rain descends -
    But suddenly when least expected comes -
    So she to whom her husband's parting lay
    In words saw it burst in reality.

    He said, "Dear Rati! well thou knowest how
    I fondly wish to trade in distant realms.
    The time has come for me to part from thee.
    This morn a little ship was sighted here,
    And she is riding yonder on the sea.
    And ere the setting sun sinks down to rest
    Into the western waves the little bark
    Now destined to take me will leave the port;
    And I have therefore one, but one short hour.
    'Tis willed by Him above that I should soon
    Bid farewell to the place where I was born,
    Where all my thoughts for ever centred lie, -
    Soon part from all that to my heart is dear,
    But soon come richer, greater to my home,
    To spend my days in joy and happiness.
    Dear wife! allow me therefore to depart."

    To which the wife - "Dear husband, sad it is
    To me to think that thou shouldst part from me;
    But sadder still the thought that thou shouldst go
    On seas to roam in lands unknown and strange,
    And canst not tell when to this spot return.
    There is our lordly mansion here; there is
    Our wealth, and here I am thy youthful wife.
    Why go away and risk thy precious life
    While we enjoy our days like king and queen?
    Why leave me here to pine away in grief
    And loneliness? Without my lord it is
    Half death to me, and I would rather die
    Than see him part; hence banish from thy mind
    All thoughts of going and stay here with me."

    "My wife!" he said, "why cherish idle fears?
    The holy Brahmin whom thou knowest well,
    So deeply versed in all the starry lore,
    Tells me that I am fated to return.
    It is an evil omen that thou shouldst,
    Lamenting, hinder me at this last hour
    And tell me not to go. Send me away
    With thy good wishes, I will soon return.
    By Him above that rules man's destinies,
    By mother earth, by yonder setting sun,
    The moon that shines up in the starry heav'ns,
    By all that to his heart is sacred deemed,
    And lastly by his sire whose picture hangs
    On the wall there, thy husband Rudra swears
    That after he returns he'll stay with thee,
    And nevermore e'en think of leaving thee,
    And let him therefore go in peace of mind."

    "If it is true," replied the crying maid,
    "That Sita followed Rama to the woods,
    And that she of the Pandus also shared
    With them their toils - if ever woman's charms
    Had power to move the adamantine heart
    Of man, then let thy Rati go with thee
    To share with thee thy joys and woes as well.
    If thou shouldst go alone, remember then,
    Dear lord, the sin rests solely on thy head
    That a young maiden has been left alone
    To mourn for ever for her husband on
    The seas - and all for gold and for a name."

    "A name thou sayest - never, never would
    Thy Rudra die unhonoured and unknown
    And bear the evil name and the reproach
    For ever with his sons and his sons' sons,
    That of his old illustrious family
    He was the only one that feared to go
    Upon the sea. The sun is going down,
    And cruel darkness is invading fast
    On us; and soon the ship will leave the port.
    Within a year thou shalt see me again.
    But if 'tis ruled by God that I should not
    Return, to one thing listen ere I go.
    To soothe thy spirits in a few short months
    An infant will be lying on thy lap,
    And if a daughter she should be, let her
    Be married to one worthy of our race.
    But if a son is born tend him with care;
    When he grows old, let it be said of him
    That he is his lost father's worthy son."
    And when the few last awful words were spoke
    The frighted wife that stood supported by
    Her lord at once grew pale and motionless.
    As one that watched with anxious care the growth
    Of a young tendril slowly fixes it
    Upon a new and stronger prop, e'en so
    Brave Rudra extricated himself from
    Her grasp and gently placed her on the couch;
    Then gazed on her for a few moments with
    His hands upon her throbbing temples, kissed
    Her brow, and straightway vanished from the room.

    And now the little ship in which he sailed
    Safe bore the crew along the wat'ry waste,
    And after twenty days' fast sailing she
    Encountered on the way a storm, was wrecked,
    And all save Rudra perished in the waves.
    The shipwrecked merchant lost all that he had,
    And wandered through a distant country with
    No friends, no money but his hands to earn
    For him his daily bread: the lonely youth
    Thus dragged for years his miserable life
    With nothing to make it worth living save
    The hope, the only hope, to see his wife;
    Till at the end of twenty years a ship
    Was sighted that was bound for Nundipore.
    In it he sailed and safely landed in
    His native port. It was the midday noon;
    He saw the selfsame fishing village that
    Stood years ago upon the sandy beach,
    And with a joyful heart he hastened to
    His house which all deserted seemed; inside
    With falt'ring steps he went, and on the walls
    Of the big hall were hanging pictures of
    His sire, of Krishna playing on the flute,
    Of Rama, Siva, and the other gods
    Whom in his childhood days his house adored,
    And seemed as they were drawn but yesterday;
    A thousand other old familiar scenes
    In quick succession passed before his eyes,
    Then quickly passed into a room, where lo!
    There slept a youth and she for whom for years
    Life's toils he patient bore. As one born blind
    Had after years of pray'r the gift of sight
    Vouchsafed to him by God, his Maker, to
    Behold the beauties of the universe,
    His wife, his children, and those dear to him,
    But straightway feels the precious gift withdrawn;
    Or as a lonely bird that unawares
    Has wandered far into the deep blue sea
    Finds nothing but a wat'ry waste all round,
    And knows not where to rest its wearied limbs,
    But at a distance kens at last a ship
    To which with doubled speed it flies and flies,
    And there discerns a seaman with his bow
    Preventing it from sitting on the mast -
    So Rudra felt. "Is this my wife?" he thought.
    "Yes, by the mole upon her cheek she is;
    And beauty, spite of age, still lingers on
    Her face, and this fair youth, attracted by
    Her charms, came here. Why hast Thou brought me home,
    O God! why was I not drowned in the sea?
    Why did I leave that distant country where
    These twenty years I toiled for bread and lived?
    And why was I not spared this ghastly sight?
    No, Rati! never would thy husband bear
    To see thee lying with another man.
    First he will kill you both, then die himself."
    So saying, from a sheath a blade he drew,
    When lo! there fell the piece of a palm leaf
    Whereon were writ - think well before you do.
    "This is," he said, "my father's dying gift;
    By the advice here giv'n I will abide,"
    Then woke his wife, and in firm tones thus asked,
    "Who is this youth that has defiled my bed?
    Speak ere I strike you both." The wond'ring wife
    The dagger and the stranger saw and cried -
    "Kill me alone, but spare my only son."
    "Thy only son!" he said; "now wake him up,
    And let us all adore our Maker first,
    Who saved us from my frenzy, which in one
    Short moment would have shattered all our bliss."