IV

THE BALLAD OF RAMABYE, WIFE OF

MADHOORAO THE ELDER

[Ramabye, the wife of Madhoorao I., generally known as Thorela or the elder Madhoorao, immolated herself on her husband's funeral pyre. The latter died of consumption at Theoor, 13 miles from Poona, in November 1771.]

HEARKEN! I sing the witness
Which former times afford,
How cherish'd patient Ramabye
Her god-descended lord,
And how the righteous Nana1
The laws of heav'n ador'd.

Hearken! the gods had bless'd him
With gems beyond compare,
Viswasrao, Madhoorao, and he—
Narayenrao-made up the three,
Who dree'd a direful destiny,

A cluster rich and rare;

And 'twixt the younger two so strong
The love, their story might belong
To those two lords of ancient song,
Whom the same mother bare.
How was the double emerald spilt?
I know not, nor can mortal wit

The secret dark declare.
Madhoorao on his throne of state,
A peaceful prince, in Poona sate;

IO

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Deep as the ocean's depth profound,
Which shipman's plummet may not sound,
The prince's judgment pass'd the ken,
His deeds the power, of mortal men :
Skill'd leader of his horse was he;
He march'd for Theoor merrily,
The rattling kettles clang'd with glee

Behind him and before.

In howdah ceil'd with royal state,

And fram'd with glittering glass, he sate ;

An elephant upbore

The stately load, and stepp'd along

Majestic through the armed throng,

While sounded shrill, and loud, and long,

The trumpet's deaf'ning roar.

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Hearken! I sing the witness
Which former times afford,
How cherish'd patient Ramabye
Her god-descended lord,
And how the righteous Nana

The laws of heav'n ador'd.

The prince from Poona with his spouse
To Theoor came to pay their vows:
Before the god Gunputti there
The lady promise plied, and prayer ;
The sacred image to enfold
She vow'd with pure and solid gold,
His coronet with gems should shine
A crest of gold should crown his shrine,
'If, heavenly lord, thou give
'To me the bracelet dower,2 and deign

'One year prolong my husband's reign,

'But one year let him live.'

So pray'd she, and the turbans set
With work of gold, and gemm'd aigrette,

Or pearl or emerald plume

She offer'd, and with weeping eyes,

Implord the mercy of the skies,

To dissipate her gloom.
That night an answer came in sleep,
A dream disturb'd her slumber deep,

And Gunputti stood by:

'Not mine the power, or mine the deed 'Thy husband's life to spare or speed,

'On Shreeputti rely:

Count me but lord of Modaks,3 child :'

The vision vanish'd as she smil'd,

And so the night went by.

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Hearken! I sing the witness

Which former times afford, How cherish'd patient Ramabye

Her god-descended lord,

And how the righteous Nana

The laws of heav'n ador'd.

Next day-that Wednesday dark and drear-
The lady left her anxious bed,

She sought her lord, his tent was near,

Alas! her noble lord was dead!

Yet never tear bedimm'd her eye,
The lovely lady Ramabye;

With firm and rapid step she trod

Her vow once more before the god,

Her latest vow to pay;

Thorough the glowing gate of fire
That open'd from her husband's pyre,
To tread the darksome way.

Far through the land the rumour went
Of pious Ramabye's intent,

And east and west the call was sent,

And speeded south and north;

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And Raghoba with solemn word
She charg'd his nephew's throne to guard,
Word that should fruitless fall!

Calmly she check'd the tears that fell,
Calmly she bade her last farewell;

And while the assembled crowds proclaim

Their Madhoorao's beloved name,

And shout thro' heaven his glorious fame,
Calmly she went to meet the flame,

And bless'd them one and all.
Hearken! I sing the witness
Which former times afford,
How cherish'd patient Ramabye
Her god-descended lord,
And how the righteous Nana
The laws of heav'n ador'd.

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Thus Ramabye prepar'd to tread

The footsteps of her husband dead;

In showers the leaves of gold were flung,

In every ear the drum-beat rung,

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While all the air was dim and sweet
With spiced powders, as was meet,
And all the Peshwa's host array'd
The sad and solemn scene survey'd.
On Moola's bank the lady stood,
High by the pyre, absorb'd of mood;
Worshipp'd the gourds, on Kashi's shore
With Gunga's sacred stream brimm'd o'er,
Then, while all people held their breath,
She mounted on the stone of death,7
And clapp'd her hands: the signal giv'n,
Fierce rush'd the roaring fire to heav'n,
And forth her spirit soar'd;

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