罗摩衍那
本译文由人工智能辅助工具生成，可能存在不准确之处。如需查阅权威文本，请参考英文原文。
AI-translated. May contain errors. For accurate text, refer to the original English.
中文
罗摩衍那（Ramayana）
（1900年1月31日讲于加利福尼亚州帕萨迪纳莎士比亚俱乐部）
梵文中有两部伟大的史诗，年代极为久远。诚然，还有数以百计的其他史诗作品。梵文语言与文学延续至今日，尽管两千余年前它已不再是一种口语。我现在要向你们讲述的，是两部最古老的史诗，名为罗摩衍那（Ramayana）和摩诃婆罗多（Mahabharata）。它们承载着古代印度人的风俗习惯、社会状态、文明状况等。其中较古者名为罗摩衍那，意为"罗摩（Rama）的生平"。在此之前已有一些诗歌文学——印度教圣典吠陀（Vedas）中的大部分内容是以某种格律写成的——但这部书在印度获得公认，被视为诗歌的真正起源。
那位诗人或圣者的名字叫做蚁垤（Valmiki）。后来，许多诗意的故事被附会于这位古代诗人身上；此后，将许多非其所作的诗句归于他的名下，成为一种极为普遍的做法。尽管有种种增补，此书流传至今，仍是一部极为优美的作品，在世界文学中无与伦比。
曾有一位年轻人，无论如何也无力养家糊口。他身体强壮有力，最终沦为一名拦路强盗；他在路上袭击行人，抢劫财物，以此供养父母、妻儿。这样的日子一直持续下去，直至某一天，一位名为那罗陀（Narada）的伟大圣人路过，那强盗向他袭来。圣人问那强盗："你为何要抢劫我？抢劫并杀害人类是大罪。你为了什么而承受这一切罪孽？"那强盗答道："我要用这些钱养活我的家人。""那么，"圣人说，"你认为他们也分担你的罪孽吗？""当然是的，"强盗回答。"很好，"圣人说，"你将我绑在这里保管好，然后回家问你的家人，他们是否愿意像分享你所赚的钱那样分担你的罪孽。"那人随即去见他的父亲，问道："父亲，你知道我是如何供养你的吗？"父亲回答说："不知道。""我是一名强盗，我杀人劫财。""什么！你竟做了这样的事，我的孩子？滚开！你这个贱民！"他随后去见母亲，问道："母亲，你知道我是如何供养你的吗？""不知道，"她回答。"通过抢劫和杀人。""多么可怕啊！"母亲喊道。"但是，你会分担我的罪孽吗？"儿子说。"我为何要分担？我从未做过抢劫，"母亲回答。然后，他去见妻子，问她："你知道我是如何养活你们的吗？""不知道，"她答道。"我是一名劫匪，"他接着说，"多年来我一直抢劫他人；那就是我供养并维持你们生活的方式。而我现在想知道的是，你是否愿意分担我的罪孽。""绝对不。你是我的丈夫，供养我是你的职责。"
那强盗的双眼被打开了。"这就是世界的方式——即便是我最亲近的亲人，我为之抢劫的人，也不愿分担我的命运。"他回到绑缚圣人的地方，解开了他的束缚，俯身叩拜于他足前，将一切诉说出来，说道："救救我！我该怎么办？"圣人说："放弃你目前的生活方式。你已看到你的家人其实没有一个真正爱你，所以放弃这一切幻象。他们会分享你的繁荣；但一旦你一无所有，他们便会遗弃你。没有人会分担你的罪恶，但他们都会分享你的善。因此，崇拜那唯一无论我们做善做恶皆与我们同在的上帝。他从未离弃我们，因为爱从不拉人堕落，不知交换，不存私心。"
于是圣人教导他如何崇拜。这个人放弃了一切，走入森林。在那里，他一边祈祷一边冥想，直至完全忘却自我，以至于蚂蚁来了，在他身旁筑起蚁穴，而他对此浑然不觉。多年过后，一个声音传来，说道："起来吧，圣者！"他被唤醒，惊呼道："圣者？我是一名强盗！""再不是强盗了，"那声音回答，"你已是一位得以净化的圣者。你旧日的名字已然消逝。然而如今，由于你的禅定（dhyana）是如此深沉宏大，以至于你甚至未曾察觉围绕你的蚁穴，从今以后，你的名字当为蚁垤——'生于蚁穴之人'。"于是，他成为了圣者。
这便是他成为诗人的经过。一日，圣者蚁垤正前往圣河恒河沐浴，他看见一对鸽子在空中盘旋，彼此相互亲吻。圣人抬头望去，对这一情景深感欢喜，然而转瞬间，一支箭嗖地飞过他身旁，射杀了那只雄鸽。那雄鸽落地之时，雌鸽悲恸地围绕着同伴的遗体盘旋飞翔。刹那间，那诗人内心充满悲恸，环顾四周，看见了那猎人。"你真是一个残忍之人，"他喊道，"毫无半点怜悯！你那杀戮之手竟为了爱也不肯停歇！""这是什么？我在说什么？"诗人暗自思忖，"我以前从未以这种方式说话。"随后，一个声音传来："不要害怕。这是从你口中流溢而出的诗歌。用诗意的语言为世人写出罗摩的生平。"这便是那首诗歌最初的开端。第一节诗从蚁垤这位第一位诗人的口中奔涌而出。就在那之后，他写出了美丽的罗摩衍那——"罗摩的生平"。
古代印度有一座城池，名为阿约提亚（Ayodhya）——在现代亦依然存在。它所在的省份如今称为欧德（Oudh），你们大多数人或许在印度地图上见过它。那便是古代的阿约提亚。远古时代，有一位名为十车王（Dasharatha）的国王在此统治。他有三位王后，然而国王与她们所生之子尚无着落。如同虔诚的印度教徒，国王与王后们一同前往朝圣，斋戒祈祷，祈求能有子嗣，终于在适当时机，四位王子降生。其中长子便是罗摩。
这四位王子自当接受各门学问的系统教育。为避免日后的纷争，古代印度有一习俗，即国王在世时亲自任命其长子为继承人，称为"युवराज"（Yuvaraja），即少年国王。
彼时，还有另一位名为闍那迦（Janaka）的国王，他有一位美丽的女儿，名叫悉达（Sita）。悉达在田间被发现；她是大地之女，无父无母而生。古梵文中"悉达"一词意指犁铧所划出的犁沟。在印度的古代神话中，你将发现只有一位父母或完全没有父母而生的人，生于祭火之中的人，生于田间的人，等等——仿佛从云端降落一般。所有这些奇异的降生方式在印度的神话传说中皆属寻常。
悉达作为大地之女，纯洁无瑕。她由闍那迦王养育成人。当她到了适婚年龄，国王便欲为她寻觅一位合适的丈夫。
印度古代有一种名为"自选夫婿会"（Svayamvara）的习俗，公主可借此自行选择夫婿。来自各地的众多王子受邀而来，公主盛装华服，手持花环，在一位唱报者的陪同下——唱报者一一列举各位王室求婚者的显著资质——从聚集于她面前的众人中间走过，将花环套上她所中意之王子的颈项，以此选定夫婿。随后，他们便在盛大隆重的仪典中完婚。
众多王子觊觎悉达的芳心；此次所设的考验是折断一张名为哈罗达努（Haradhanu）的巨弓。所有王子竭尽全力，皆告失败。最终，罗摩以从容的姿态，用双手将那强弓一折为二。就这样，悉达选择了十车王之子罗摩为夫，他们在众人的欢腾祝贺中完婚。随后，罗摩将新娘迎回家中，他年迈的父亲认为时机已至，该当隐退并任命罗摩为少年国王。仪式的一切皆已准备就绪，举国上下为此事欢欣鼓舞，此时小王后吉迦伊（Kaikeyi）被她的一名侍女提醒起国王早年对她许下的两个承诺。曾有一次她使国王极为欢悦，国王便许诺赐予她两个恩典："我能力之内的任何两件事，你尽可提出，我必允许你，"他说，但她当时并未提出请求。她早已将此事忘却；但为她服务的那名心怀叵测的侍女，开始以罗摩即将登基为由挑拨她的嫉妒之心，并暗示若她自己的儿子能继承王位该有多好，直至王后几乎被嫉妒逼得失去理智。随后，那侍女建议她向国王索取那两个承诺：一是让她自己的儿子婆罗多（Bharata）登上王位，另一是将罗摩驱逐至森林中流亡十四年。
罗摩是年迈国王的生命与灵魂，当这一恶毒的请求向他提出时，他作为国王深感不能食言。因此，他不知如何是好。然而罗摩前来解围，甘愿放弃王位走向流亡，以使父亲不至于背信失义。于是，罗摩踏上了十四年的流亡之路，他深爱的妻子悉达与他忠诚的弟弟拉克什曼纳（Lakshmana）同行——拉克什曼纳无论如何也不愿与他分离。
雅利安人不知晓这些蛮荒森林中究竟住着哪些居民。在那些年代，他们称森林中的部落为"猴子"，而其中一些所谓的"猴子"，若异常强壮有力，则被称为"魔鬼"。
于是，罗摩、拉克什曼纳与悉达走入了这片由魔鬼与猴子居住的森林。当悉达主动提出随罗摩同行时，他惊呼道："你作为一位公主，如何能忍受艰辛，随我进入这片充满未知危险的森林！"但悉达回答道："罗摩所至之处，悉达便在。你怎能对我谈及'公主'与'王室出身'？我走在你前面！"就这样，悉达随行。年幼的弟弟也与他们同行。他们深入森林，直至抵达戈达瓦里河（Godavari）。他们在河岸上搭建了简陋的小屋，罗摩与拉克什曼纳便打猎捕鹿、采集果实。如此生活了一段时日后，某一天，一位女魔巨人到来。她是楞伽（Lanka，即锡兰）巨人王的妹妹。她在森林中随意游荡，偶然遇见了罗摩，见他是一个极为俊美的男子，便立刻爱上了他。然而罗摩是最纯洁的男子，且他已婚娶；因此他自然无法回应她的爱意。为了报复，她前去见她的兄长——那巨人王，将罗摩之妻美丽悉达的事一一告知。
罗摩是凡人中最强大者；无论是巨人、魔鬼，还是其他任何人，皆无足够的力量战胜他。于是，那巨人王不得不诉诸诡计。他寻来另一位精通幻术的巨人，将其变形为一只美丽的金鹿；那鹿在罗摩居住的地方周围轻盈跳跃，直至悉达被其美貌所迷，请求罗摩前去捕捉那鹿。罗摩进入森林捕鹿，将弟弟留下看护悉达。随后，拉克什曼纳在小屋周围画了一道火圈，对悉达说："今日我预见到某些事情可能降临于你；因此，我告诫你不要走出这个魔法圆圈。若你走出，危险或将降临。"与此同时，罗摩已用箭射穿了那幻化之鹿，那鹿立刻变回人形，死去。
顿时，小屋中听到了罗摩的声音呼喊道："啊，拉克什曼纳，来救我！"悉达说："拉克什曼纳，快进入森林去救罗摩！""那不是罗摩的声音，"拉克什曼纳坚持说。然而在悉达的再三哀求下，拉克什曼纳不得不进入森林寻找罗摩。就在他离去之后，那巨人王化身为一位托钵僧的样貌，站在门前乞讨施舍。"稍等片刻，"悉达说，"等我丈夫回来，我将给你丰厚的施舍。""我不能等，好心的夫人，"他说，"我非常饥饿，给我任何东西都行。"此时，悉达将小屋中的一些果子拿出。但那托钵僧经过再三劝说，说服她将施舍直接送到他手边，向她保证她无须担心，因为他是一位圣人。于是，悉达走出了魔法圆圈，那看似僧侣者立即恢复了巨人的身躯，将悉达双臂抱起，唤来他的魔法战车，将哭泣的悉达置于其上，扬长而去。可怜的悉达！她完全无助，无人前来相助。就在巨人将她带走之时，她从臂上摘下几件饰物，沿途散落在地上。
她被罗波那（Ravana）带往他的王国楞伽，即锡兰岛。他恳求她成为他的王后，以种种方式诱惑她答应他的请求。然而悉达本身就是贞洁的化身，她甚至不愿与那巨人交谈；而他为了惩罚她，令她日夜居于一棵树下，直至她同意成为他的妻子为止。
当罗摩与拉克什曼纳回到小屋，发现悉达不在，他们的悲痛无以名状。他们无法想象她究竟发生了什么。两兄弟四处寻觅悉达，却找不到她的任何踪迹。经过漫长的寻找，他们遇见了一群"猴子"，其中便有哈奴曼（Hanuman），那位"神猴"。哈奴曼是猴类中最优秀者，成为罗摩最忠诚的仆人，帮助他救出悉达，正如我们稍后将看到的那样。他对罗摩的虔信（bhakti）是如此伟大，以至于他至今仍被印度教徒作为真正的主之仆人的理想而崇拜。如你所见，所谓"猴子"与"魔鬼"，实际上是指南印度的土著居民。
于是，罗摩终于与这些猴子相遇。他们告诉他，曾见到天空中飞过一辆战车，车上端坐着一位魔王，正在带走一位极为美丽的女子，那女子哭泣不止；当战车从他们头顶飞过时，她抛下一件饰物以吸引他们的注意。随后，他们将那件饰物呈给罗摩。拉克什曼纳拿起饰物，说道："我不知这是谁的饰物。"罗摩从他手中接过，立刻认出，说道："是的，这是悉达的。"拉克什曼纳无法认出这件饰物，因为在印度，兄长之妻受到极大的尊重，他从未曾看视过悉达的双臂与颈项。可见，由于那是一条项链，他不知道那是谁的。这一情节带有古代印度风俗的印记。随后，那些猴子告诉罗摩那魔王是谁，居于何处，于是他们一同出发寻找他。
彼时，猴王婆厘（Vali）与其弟苏格里瓦（Sugriva）正在为王国相互争斗。弟弟得到罗摩的相助，从将他驱逐的婆厘手中重新夺回了王国；而他作为回报，允诺助罗摩一臂之力。他们遍搜四方，却找不到悉达。最终，哈奴曼一跃从印度海岸飞渡到锡兰岛，在那里遍寻楞伽全境，仍无从找见悉达。
你们要知道，这位巨人王曾征服过众神、人类，事实上整个世界；他将所有美丽的女子聚拢，纳为嫔妾。于是，哈奴曼心想："悉达不可能与她们一同在宫中。她宁死也不会置身那样的地方。"于是哈奴曼前往别处寻找。最终，他在一棵树下找到了悉达，面色惨白消瘦，犹如低悬于地平线的新月。哈奴曼化身为一只小猴子，栖于树上，亲眼目睹了罗波那所派遣的女巨人们前来试图以恐吓迫使悉达屈服，但她甚至不愿听闻那巨人王的名字。
随后，哈奴曼走近悉达，告诉她他如何成为罗摩的使者——罗摩曾遣他来寻访悉达的下落；哈奴曼将罗摩赐予的信物戒指出示给悉达，以证明其身份。他也告知她，一旦罗摩得知她的所在，便将率领大军前来，征服那巨人并救回她。然而，他向悉达提议，若她愿意，他可以将她背于肩上，一跃越过海洋，回到罗摩身边。但悉达无法接受这个想法，因为她本身就是贞洁的化身，无法触碰除丈夫以外任何男子的身体。于是，悉达留在原处。但她摘下发间的一颗珠宝交予他带回给罗摩；哈奴曼随即带着珠宝返回。
从哈奴曼处获悉悉达的一切情况后，罗摩召集了一支大军，率领它向印度最南端进发。在那里，罗摩的猴子们建造了一座巨大的桥梁，称为海堤（Setu-Bandha），连接印度与锡兰。即便在今日，水位极低时，仍可借助那里的沙洲从印度跨越至锡兰。
罗摩本是上帝的化身，否则他如何能成就这一切？依照印度教徒的说法，他是上帝的化身。他们在印度视他为上帝的第七次降世化身。
那些猴子搬来整座山丘，将其置于海中，以石块与树木覆盖，由此建起一道巨大的堤坝。据说，有一只小松鼠，在沙地上滚动身体，在桥上来回跑动，抖落身上的沙粒。就这样，他以自己微小的方式，通过在桥上铺撒沙粒，为罗摩的大桥尽一份力。那些猴子哈哈大笑，因为他们搬来了整座山、整片森林、大批沙土用于建桥——于是他们嘲笑那只在沙地上滚动然后抖落自己的小松鼠。但罗摩看见了，并说道："愿那小松鼠得蒙福佑；他尽其所能地尽着自己的职责，因此他与你们中最伟大的一位同样伟大。"随后，他轻柔地抚摸了那松鼠的脊背，罗摩手指留下的痕迹，沿着背部纵向延伸，至今仍清晰可见于松鼠的脊背之上。
大桥建成之后，整支猴子大军，在罗摩与其弟的率领下，进入了锡兰。此后数月间，发生了惨烈的战争与厮杀。最终，这位魔王罗波那被征服并击杀；他的首都，连同所有宫殿以及一切建筑——全部以纯金铸造——皆落入手中。在印度内陆偏远的村庄里，当我告诉他们我曾去过锡兰时，淳朴的民众会说："那里，正如我们的书上所载，房屋是用黄金建造的。"于是，所有这些黄金城池落入罗摩之手，他将它们交给罗波那的弟弟毗卑善那（Vibhishana），令他坐上兄长的王位，以回报他在战争中对罗摩所立的卓越功勋。
随后，罗摩携悉达及其随从离开楞伽。然而随从中传来了窃窃私语："考验！考验！"他们呼喊道，"悉达尚未给出她在罗波那宫中完全清白的证明。""清白！她本身就是贞洁的化身，"罗摩惊叫道。"不要紧！我们要求考验，"众人坚持。随后，一个巨大的祭火被点燃，悉达必须投身其中。罗摩痛苦万分，以为悉达将要失去；然而转瞬间，火神本人出现了，头顶一座宝座，宝座之上端坐着悉达。随即，举众欢腾，所有人皆感满足。
流亡之初，弟弟婆罗多曾前来告知罗摩老王驾崩的消息，并激切地坚请他回位继承王位。在罗摩流亡期间，婆罗多无论如何也不肯登上王位，出于对兄长的敬重，他将罗摩的一双木屐置于王座之上，以此作为兄长的替代。后来罗摩重返都城，经由全体国民的一致认可，成为阿约提亚的国王。
罗摩重登王位之后，立下了古代国王为民所许的种种誓愿。国王是人民的仆人，必须遵从民意，如我们稍后将看到的那样。罗摩与悉达共度了数年幸福时光，而后民间再度传出议论，说悉达曾被魔鬼掳走，被带过海洋。他们对此前的考验并不满意，要求再行一次考验，否则她必须被驱逐。
为了满足民众的诉求，悉达遭到驱逐，被遣往森林居住，那里有圣者与诗人蚁垤的静修院（Ashrama）。圣者发现可怜的悉达哭泣悲苦、无所依靠，听了她的悲恸经历，将她收留于自己的静修院中。悉达即将临产，她诞下了一对双胞胎。那诗人从未向孩子们透露他们的身世。他将他们一同在梵行（Brahmacharya）的生活方式中抚育成人。他随后写下了名为罗摩衍那的诗篇，配以音乐，并将其戏剧化。
在印度，戏剧是极为神圣的事物。戏剧与音乐本身被视为宗教。任何歌曲——无论是情歌还是其他——只要一个人的整个灵魂投入其中，便可得到解脱（moksha），再无其他必要。据说，这通向与禅定（dhyana）相同的目标。
于是，蚁垤将"罗摩的生平"搬上舞台，并教导罗摩的两个孩子如何诵读与吟唱。
时日流逝，罗摩正要主持一场盛大的祭礼，即亚阇那（Yajna），如同古代国王们所惯常举行的那种。然而在印度，任何仪式都不能由已婚男子独自完成，他必须有妻子相伴：她必须是他的共同法侣（Sahadharmini），"共同的法之践行者"——这是妻子的说法。印度教家主必须举行数百种仪式，但依照法典（Shastras），若没有妻子以其部分配合完成，则没有一种仪式能够如法完成。
此时罗摩的妻子不在身边，因为她已遭到驱逐。于是，众人请求他再娶。然而面对这一请求，罗摩有生以来第一次违逆了民意。他说："此事不可。我的生命是悉达的。"因此，以一尊悉达的金像作为替代，以便仪式得以完成。他们甚至安排了戏剧演出，以增添这场盛大祭典中的宗教感怀。伟大的圣者诗人蚁垤携其弟子——罗摩身份不为人知的儿子罗伐（Lava）与枯沙（Kusha）——前来参加。舞台已经搭就，演出的一切皆已准备妥当。罗摩与他的兄弟们偕同所有贵族及臣民出席——聚集了一大批观众。在蚁垤的指导下，罗伐与枯沙以迷人的嗓音与形貌演唱罗摩的生平，令全场为之倾倒。可怜的罗摩几乎失魂落魄，当戏剧演至悉达被驱逐的场景时，他茫然不知所措。此时圣者对他说："不要悲痛，因为我将为你展现悉达。"随后，悉达被引上舞台，罗摩欣喜地见到了他的妻子。突然之间，旧日的窃窃私语再度响起："考验！考验！"可怜的悉达深深地被一次次残忍地中伤她名誉所伤，所承受的已超出她所能忍耐的极限。她向众神祈告，请他们为她的清白作证，此时大地裂开，悉达呼喊道："这便是考验"，随即没入大地的怀抱。众人被这悲剧性的结局所震惊。而罗摩则被悲痛所淹没。
悉达消失数日后，一位来自众神的使者来到罗摩面前，向他传告他在人间的使命已然完成，他将回归天界。这一消息令他认识到了自身真实自我（Self）的本质。他投身于奔涌的萨拉尤河（Sarayu）——那条环绕其都城的壮阔河流——与悉达在另一世界重聚。
这便是印度伟大的古代史诗。罗摩与悉达是印度民族的理想人格。所有孩子，尤其是女孩，崇拜悉达。女性最崇高的志向便是成为如悉达一般——那纯洁的、虔诚的、忍受一切的！当你研读这些人物时，你立刻便能发现印度的理想与西方的理想是何等不同。对于这个民族而言，悉达是苦难的象征。西方说："去做！以行动展现你的力量。"印度说："以苦难展现你的力量。"西方解决了一个人能够拥有多少的问题；印度解决了一个人能够拥有多少之少的问题。这是两个极端，如你所见。悉达是印度的典型——理想化的印度。问题不在于她是否真实存在，不在于这个故事是否是历史；我们知道，那理想就在那里。没有其他任何一部传说故事，能如此深入地浸透整个民族，如此进入其生命的核心，并如此在整个民族的每一滴血液中涌动，如同悉达这一理想。悉达在印度是一切善良、纯洁与神圣之事物的名称——一切在女性身上我们称之为女性美德的东西。若一位祭司要祝福一位女子，他会说："愿你成为悉达！"若他祝福一个孩子，他会说："愿你成为悉达！"他们都是悉达的儿女，都在努力成为悉达——那忍耐的、承受一切的、永远忠贞的、永远纯洁的妻子。在她所经历的这一切苦难中，没有一句刺耳的话针对罗摩。她将其视为自己的职责，并在其中完成自己的部分。试想她被驱逐至森林是何等的不公正！然而悉达不知苦涩为何物。这，再一次，是印度的理想。古佛陀说："当一个人伤害你，而你反过来伤害他，那不会治愈最初的伤害；它只会在世界上再添一份罪恶。"悉达是本性上真正的印度人；她从不以怨报怨。
谁知道哪一种理想更为真实？西方所持守的表面上的力量与强大，还是东方的忍耐受苦的坚忍？
西方说："我们通过征服来减少罪恶。"印度说："我们通过受苦来消灭罪恶，直至罪恶对我们毫无影响，它变成一种积极的喜悦。"好，这两者都是伟大的理想。谁知道在漫长的岁月中哪一个将最终存续？谁知道哪一种态度将真正最有益于人类？谁知道哪一种将使兽性缴械屈服？是苦难，还是行动？
与此同时，让我们不要试图摧毁彼此的理想。我们都将心力倾注于同一项事业，那便是消灭罪恶。你们采用你们的方法；让我们采用我们的方法。让我们不要毁弃这理想。我不对西方说："采用我们的方法。"当然不。目标是相同的，但方法永远不可能相同。因此，在听闻了印度的理想之后，我希望你们能以同样的心情对印度说："我们知道，那目标与理想，对我们双方而言皆是正确的。你遵循你自己的理想。以你自己的方式走你的道路，愿上帝保佑你！"我一生的使命，是请求东方与西方不要为不同的理想而争论，而是向他们表明，无论表面看来如何对立，在两种情形中目标皆为相同。当我们蜿蜒穿行于这曲折蒙昧的人生之途，让我们彼此祝愿一路平安。
English
THE RAMAYANA
(Delivered at the Shakespeare Club, Pasadena, California, January 31, 1900)
There are two great epics in the Sanskrit language, which are very ancient. Of course, there are hundreds of other epic poems. The Sanskrit language and literature have been continued down to the present day, although, for more than two thousand years, it has ceased to be a spoken language. I am now going to speak to you of the two most ancient epics, called the Râmâyana and the Mahâbhârata. They embody the manners and customs, the state of society, civilisation, etc., of the ancient Indians. The oldest of these epics is called Ramayana, "The Life of Râma". There was some poetical literature before this — most of the Vedas, the sacred books of the Hindus, are written in a sort of metre — but this book is held by common consent in India as the very beginning of poetry.
The name of the poet or sage was Vâlmiki. Later on, a great many poetical stories were fastened upon that ancient poet; and subsequently, it became a very general practice to attribute to his authorship very many verses that were not his. Notwithstanding all these interpolations, it comes down to us as a very beautiful arrangement, without equal in the literatures of the world.
There was a young man that could not in any way support his family. He was strong and vigorous and, finally, became a highway robber; he attacked persons in the street and robbed them, and with that money he supported his father, mother, wife, and children. This went on continually, until one day a great saint called Nârada was passing by, and the robber attacked him. The sage asked the robber, "Why are you going to rob me? It is a great sin to rob human beings and kill them. What do you incur all this sin for?" The robber said, "Why, I want to support my family with this money." "Now", said the sage, "do you think that they take a share of your sin also?" "Certainly they do," replied the robber. "Very good," said the sage, "make me safe by tying me up here, while you go home and ask your people whether they will share your sin in the same way as they share the money you make." The man accordingly went to his father, and asked, "Father, do you know how I support you?" He answered, "No, I do not." "I am a robber, and I kill persons and rob them." "What! you do that, my son? Get away! You outcast! "He then went to his mother and asked her, "Mother, do you know how I support you?" "No," she replied. "Through robbery and murder." "How horrible it is!" cried the mother. "But, do you partake in my sin?" said the son. "Why should I? I never committed a robbery," answered the mother. Then, he went to his wife and questioned her, "Do you know how I maintain you all?" "No," she responded. "Why, I am a highwayman," he rejoined, "and for years have been robbing people; that is how I support and maintain you all. And what I now want to know is, whether you are ready to share in my sin." "By no means. You are my husband, and it is your duty to support me."
The eyes of the robber were opened. "That is the way of the world — even my nearest relatives, for whom I have been robbing, will not share in my destiny." He came back to the place where he had bound the sage, unfastened his bonds, fell at his feet, recounted everything and said, "Save me! What can I do?" The sage said, "Give up your present course of life. You see that none of your family really loves you, so give up all these delusions. They will share your prosperity; but the moment you have nothing, they will desert you. There is none who will share in your evil, but they will all share in your good. Therefore worship Him who alone stands by us whether we are doing good or evil. He never leaves us, for love never drags down, knows no barter, no selfishness."
Then the sage taught him how to worship. And this man left everything and went into a forest. There he went on praying and meditating until he forgot himself so entirely that the ants came and built ant-hills around him and he was quite unconscious of it. After many years had passed, a voice came saying, "Arise, O sage! " Thus aroused he exclaimed, "Sage? I am a robber!" "No more 'robber'," answered the voice, "a purified sage art thou. Thine old name is gone. But now, since thy meditation was so deep and great that thou didst not remark even the ant-hills which surrounded thee, henceforth, thy name shall be Valmiki — 'he that was born in the ant-hill'." So, he became a sage.
And this is how he became a poet. One day as this sage, Valmiki, was going to bathe in the holy river Ganga, he saw a pair of doves wheeling round and round, and kissing each other. The sage looked up and was pleased at the sight, but in a second an arrow whisked past him and killed the male dove. As the dove fell down on the ground, the female dove went on whirling round and round the dead body of its companion in grief. In a moment the poet became miserable, and looking round, he saw the hunter. "Thou art a wretch," he cried, "without the smallest mercy! Thy slaying hand would not even stop for love!" "What is this? What am I saying?" the poet thought to himself, "I have never spoken in this sort of way before." And then a voice came: "Be not afraid. This is poetry that is coming out of your mouth. Write the life of Rama in poetic language for the benefit of the world." And that is how the poem first began. The first verse sprang out of pits from the mouth of Valmiki, the first poet. And it was after that, that he wrote the beautiful Ramayana, "The Life of Rama".
There was an ancient Indian town called Ayodhyâ — and it exists even in modern times. The province in which it is still located is called Oudh, and most of you may have noticed it in the map of India. That was the ancient Ayodhya. There, in ancient times, reigned a king called Dasharatha. He had three queens, but the king had not any children by them. And like good Hindus, the king and the queens, all went on pilgrimages fasting and praying, that they might have children and, in good time, four sons were born. The eldest of them was Rama.
Now, as it should be, these four brothers were thoroughly educated in all branches of learning. To avoid future quarrels there was in ancient India a custom for the king in his own lifetime to nominate his eldest son as his successor, the Yuvarâja, young king, as he is called.
Now, there was another king, called Janaka, and this king had a beautiful daughter named Sitâ. Sita was found in a field; she was a daughter of the Earth, and was born without parents. The word "Sita" in ancient Sanskrit means the furrow made by a plough. In the ancient mythology of India you will find persons born of one parent only, or persons born without parents, born of sacrificial fire, born in the field, and so on — dropped from the clouds as it were. All those sorts of miraculous birth were common in the mythological lore of India.
Sita, being the daughter of the Earth, was pure and immaculate. She was brought up by King Janaka. When she was of a marriageable age, the king wanted to find a suitable husband for her.
There was an ancient Indian custom called Svayamvara, by which the princesses used to choose husbands. A number of princes from different parts of the country were invited, and the princess in splendid array, with a garland in her hand, and accompanied by a crier who enumerated the distinctive claims of each of the royal suitors, would pass in the midst of those assembled before her, and select the prince she liked for her husband by throwing the garland of flowers round his neck. They would then be married with much pomp and grandeur.
There were numbers of princes who aspired for the hand of Sita; the test demanded on this occasion was the breaking of a huge bow, called Haradhanu. All the princes put forth all their strength to accomplish this feat, but failed. Finally, Rama took the mighty bow in his hands and with easy grace broke it in twain. Thus Sita selected Rama, the son of King Dasharatha for her husband, and they were wedded with great rejoicings. Then, Rama took his bride to his home, and his old father thought that the time was now come for him to retire and appoint Rama as Yuvaraja. Everything was accordingly made ready for the ceremony, and the whole country was jubilant over the affair, when the younger queen Kaikeyi was reminded by one of her maidservants of two promises made to her by the king long ago. At one time she had pleased the king very much, and he offered to grant her two boons: "Ask any two things in my power and I will grant them to you," said he, but she made no request then. She had forgotten all about it; but the evil-minded maidservant in her employ began to work upon her jealousy with regard to Rama being installed on the throne, and insinuated to her how nice it would be for her if her own son had succeeded the king, until the queen was almost mad with jealousy. Then the servant suggested to her to ask from the king the two promised boons: one would be that her own son Bharata should be placed on the throne, and the other, that Rama should be sent to the forest and be exiled for fourteen years.
Now, Rama was the life and soul of the old king and when this wicked request was made to him, he as a king felt he could not go back on his word. So he did not know what to do. But Rama came to the rescue and willingly offered to give up the throne and go into exile, so that his father might not be guilty of falsehood. So Rama went into exile for fourteen years, accompanied by his loving wife Sita and his devoted brother Lakshmana, who would on no account be parted from him.
The Aryans did not know who were the inhabitants of these wild forests. In those days the forest tribes they called "monkeys", and some of the so-called "monkeys", if unusually strong and powerful, were called "demons".
So, into the forest, inhabited by demons and monkeys, Rama, Lakshmana, and Sita went. When Sita had offered to accompany Rama, he exclaimed, "How can you, a princess, face hardships and accompany me into a forest full of unknown dangers!" But Sita replied, "Wherever Rama goes, there goes Sita. How can you talk of 'princess' and 'royal birth' to me? I go before you!" So, Sita went. And the younger brother, he also went with them. They penetrated far into the forest, until they reached the river Godâvari. On the banks of the river they built little cottages, and Rama and Lakshmana used to hunt deer and collect fruits. After they had lived thus for some time, one day there came a demon giantess. She was the sister of the giant king of Lanka (Ceylon). Roaming through the forest at will, she came across Rama, and seeing that he was a very handsome man, she fell in love with him at once. But Rama was the purest of men, and also he was a married man; so of course he could not return her love. In revenge, she went to her brother, the giant king, and told him all about the beautiful Sita, the wife of Rama.
Rama was the most powerful of mortals; there were no giants or demons or anybody else strong enough to conquer him. So, the giant king had to resort to subterfuge. He got hold of another giant who was a magician and changed him into a beautiful golden deer; and the deer went prancing round about the place where Rama lived, until Sita was fascinated by its beauty and asked Rama to go and capture the deer for her. Rama went into the forest to catch the deer, leaving his brother in charge of Sita. Then Lakshmana laid a circle of fire round the cottage, and he said to Sita, "Today I see something may befall you; and, therefore, I tell you not to go outside of this magic circle. Some danger may befall you if you do." In the meanwhile, Rama had pierced the magic deer with his arrow, and immediately the deer, changed into the form of a man, died.
Immediately, at the cottage was heard the voice of Rama, crying, "Oh, Lakshmana, come to my help!" and Sita said, "Lakshmana, go at once into the forest to help Rama!" "That is not Rama's voice," protested Lakshmana. But at the entreaties of Sita, Lakshmana had to go in search of Rama. As soon as he went away, the giant king, who had taken the form of a mendicant monk, stood at the gate and asked for alms. "Wait awhile," said Sita, "until my husband comes back and I will give you plentiful alms." "I cannot wait, good lady," said he, "I am very hungry, give me anything you have." At this, Sita, who had a few fruits in the cottage, brought them out. But the mendicant monk after many persuasions prevailed upon her to bring the alms to him, assuring her that she need have no fear as he was a holy person. So Sita came out of the magic circle, and immediately the seeming monk assumed his giant body, and grasping Sita in his arms he called his magic chariot, and putting her therein, he fled with the weeping Sita. Poor Sita! She was utterly helpless, nobody, was there to come to her aid. As the giant was carrying her away, she took off a few of the ornaments from her arms and at intervals dropped them to the grounds
She was taken by Râvana to his kingdom, Lanka, the island of Ceylon. He made peals to her to become his queen, and tempted her in many ways to accede to his request. But Sita who was chastity itself, would not even speak to the giant; and he to punish her, made her live under a tree, day and night, until she should consent to be his wife.
When Rama and Lakshmana returned to the cottage and found that Sita was not there, their grief knew no bounds. They could not imagine what had become of her. The two brothers went on, seeking, seeking everywhere for Sita, but could find no trace of her. After long searching, they came across a group of "monkeys", and in the midst of them was Hanumân, the "divine monkey". Hanuman, the best of the monkeys, became the most faithful servant of Rama and helped him in rescuing Sita, as we shall see later on. His devotion to Rama was so great that he is still worshipped by the Hindus as the ideal of a true servant of the Lord. You see, by the "monkeys" and "demons" are meant the aborigines of South India.
So, Rama, at last, fell in with these monkeys. They told him that they had seen flying through the sky a chariot, in which was seated a demon who was carrying away a most beautiful lady, and that she was weeping bitterly, and as the chariot passed over their heads she dropped one of her ornaments to attract their attention. Then they showed Rama the ornament. Lakshmana took up the ornament, and said, "I do not know whose ornament this is." Rama took it from him and recognised it at once, saying, "Yes, it is Sita's." Lakshmana could not recognise the ornament, because in India the wife of the elder brother was held in so much reverence that he had never looked upon the arms and the neck of Sita. So you see, as it was a necklace, he did not know whose it was. There is in this episode a touch of the old Indian custom. Then, the monkeys told Rama who this demon king was and where he lived, and then they all went to seek for him.
Now, the monkey-king Vâli and his younger brother Sugriva were then fighting amongst themselves for the kingdom. The younger brother was helped by Rama, and he regained the kingdom from Vali, who had driven him away; and he, in return, promised to help Rama. They searched the country all round, but could not find Sita. At last Hanuman leaped by one bound from the coast of India to the island of Ceylon, and there went looking all over Lanka for Sita, but nowhere could he find her.
You see, this giant king had conquered the gods, the men, in fact the whole world; and he had collected all the beautiful women and made them his concubines. So, Hanuman thought to himself, "Sita cannot be with them in the palace. She would rather die than be in such a place." So Hanuman went to seek for her elsewhere. At last, he found Sita under a tree, pale and thin, like the new moon that lies low in the horizon. Now Hanuman took the form of a little monkey and settled on the tree, and there he witnessed how giantesses sent by Ravana came and tried to frighten Sita into submission, but she would not even listen to the name of the giant king.
Then, Hanuman came nearer to Sita and told her how he became the messenger of Rama, who had sent him to find out where Sita was; and Hanuman showed to Sita the signet ring which Rama had given as a token for establishing his identity. He also informed her that as soon as Rama would know her whereabouts, he would come with an army and conquer the giant and recover her. However, he suggested to Sita that if she wished it, he would take her on his shoulders and could with one leap clear the ocean and get back to Rama. But Sita could not bear the idea, as she was chastity itself, and could not touch the body of any man except her husband. So, Sita remained where she was. But she gave him a jewel from her hair to carry to Rama; and with that Hanuman returned.
Learning everything about Sita from Hanuman, Rama collected an army, and with it marched towards the southernmost point of India. There Rama's monkeys built a huge bridge, called Setu-Bandha, connecting India with Ceylon. In very low water even now it is possible to cross from India to Ceylon over the sand-banks there.
Now Rama was God incarnate, otherwise, how could he have done all these things? He was an Incarnation of God, according to the Hindus. They in India believe him to be the seventh Incarnation of God.
The monkeys removed whole hills, placed them in the sea and covered them with stones and trees, thus making a huge embankment. A little squirrel, so it is said, was there rolling himself in the sand and running backwards and forwards on to the bridge and shaking himself. Thus in his small way he was working for the bridge of Rama by putting in sand. The monkeys laughed, for they were bringing whole mountains, whole forests, huge loads of sand for the bridge — so they laughed at the little squirrel rolling in the sand and then shaking himself. But Rama saw it and remarked: "Blessed be the little squirrel; he is doing his work to the best of his ability, and he is therefore quite as great as the greatest of you." Then he gently stroked the squirrel on the back, and the marks of Rama's fingers, running lengthways, are seen on the squirrel's back to this day.
Now, when the bridge was finished, the whole army of monkeys, led by Rama and his brother entered Ceylon. For several months afterwards tremendous war and bloodshed followed. At last, this demon king, Ravana, was conquered and killed; and his capital, with all the palaces and everything, which were entirely of solid gold, was taken. In far-away villages in the interior of India, when I tell them that I have been in Ceylon, the simple folk say, "There, as our books tell, the houses are built of gold." So, all these golden cities fell into the hands of Rama, who gave them over to Vibhishana, the younger brother of Ravana, and seated him on the throne in the place of his brother, as a return for the valuable services rendered by him to Rama during the war.
Then Rama with Sita and his followers left Lanka. But there ran a murmur among the followers. "The test! The test!" they cried, "Sita has not given the test that she was perfectly pure in Ravana's household." "Pure! she is chastity itself" exclaimed Rama. "Never mind! We want the test," persisted the people. Subsequently, a huge sacrificial fire was made ready, into which Sita had to plunge herself. Rama was in agony, thinking that Sita was lost; but in a moment, the God of fire himself appeared with a throne upon his head, and upon the throne was Sita. Then, there was universal rejoicing, and everybody was satisfied.
Early during the period of exile, Bharata, the younger brother had come and informed Rama, of the death of the old king and vehemently insisted on his occupying the throne. During Rama's exile Bharata would on no account ascend the throne and out of respect placed a pair of Rama's wooden shoes on it as a substitute for his brother. Then Rama returned to his capital, and by the common consent of his people he became the king of Ayodhya.
After Rama regained his kingdom, he took the necessary vows which in olden times the king had to take for the benefit of his people. The king was the slave of his people, and had to bow to public opinion, as we shall see later on. Rama passed a few years in happiness with Sita, when the people again began to murmur that Sita had been stolen by a demon and carried across the ocean. They were not satisfied with the former test and clamoured for another test, otherwise she must be banished.
In order to satisfy the demands of the people, Sita was banished, and left to live in the forest, where was the hermitage of the sage and poet Valmiki. The sage found poor Sita weeping and forlorn, and hearing her sad story, sheltered her in his Âshrama. Sita was expecting soon to become a mother, and she gave birth to twin boys. The poet never told the children who they were. He brought them up together in the Brahmachârin life. He then composed the poem known as Ramayana, set it to music, and dramatised it.
The drama, in India, was a very holy thing. Drama and music are themselves held to be religion. Any song — whether it be a love-song or otherwise — if one's whole soul is in that song, one attains salvation, one has nothing else to do. They say it leads to the same goal as meditation.
So, Valmiki dramatised "The Life of Rama", and taught Rama's two children how to recite and sing it.
There came a time when Rama was going to perform a huge sacrifice, or Yajna, such as the old kings used to celebrate. But no ceremony in India can be performed by a married man without his wife: he must have the wife with him, the Sahadharmini, the "co-religionist" — that is the expression for a wife. The Hindu householder has to perform hundreds of ceremonies, but not one can be duly performed according to the Shâstras, if he has not a wife to complement it with her part in it.
Now Rama's wife was not with him then, as she had been banished. So, the people asked him to marry again. But at this request Rama for the first time in his life stood against the people. He said, "This cannot be. My life is Sita's." So, as a substitute, a golden statue of Sita was made, in order that the; ceremony could be accomplished. They arranged even a dramatic entertainment, to enhance the religious feeling in this great festival. Valmiki, the great sage-poet, came with his pupils, Lava and Kusha, the unknown sons of Rama. A stage had been erected and everything was ready for the performance. Rama and his brothers attended with all his nobles and his people — a vast audience. Under the direction of Valmiki, the life of Rama was sung by Lava and Kusha, who fascinated the whole assembly by their charming voice and appearance. Poor Rama was nearly maddened, and when in the drama, the scene of Sita's exile came about, he did not know what to do. Then the sage said to him, "Do not be grieved, for I will show you Sita." Then Sita was brought upon the stage and Rama delighted to see his wife. All of a sudden, the old murmur arose: "The test! The test!" Poor Sita was so terribly overcome by the repeated cruel slight on her reputation that it was more than she could bear. She appealed to the gods to testify to her innocence, when the Earth opened and Sita exclaimed, "Here is the test", and vanished into the bosom of the Earth. The people were taken aback at this tragic end. And Rama was overwhelmed with grief.
A few days after Sita's disappearance, a messenger came to Rama from the gods, who intimated to him that his mission on earth was finished and he was to return to heaven. These tidings brought to him the recognition of his own real Self. He plunged into the waters of Sarayu, the mighty river that laved his capital, and joined Sita in the other world.
This is the great, ancient epic of India. Rama and Sita are the ideals of the Indian nation. All children, especially girls, worship Sita. The height of a woman's ambition is to be like Sita, the pure, the devoted, the all-suffering! When you study these characters, you can at once find out how different is the ideal in India from that of the West. For the race, Sita stands as the ideal of suffering. The West says, "Do! Show your power by doing." India says, "Show your power by suffering." The West has solved the problem of how much a man can have: India has solved the problem of how little a man can have. The two extremes, you see. Sita is typical of India — the idealised India. The question is not whether she ever lived, whether the story is history or not, we know that the ideal is there. There is no other Paurânika story that has so permeated the whole nation, so entered into its very life, and has so tingled in every drop of blood of the race, as this ideal of Sita. Sita is the name in India for everything that is good, pure and holy — everything that in woman we call womanly. If a priest has to bless a woman he says, "Be Sita!" If he blesses a child, he says "Be Sita!" They are all children of Sita, and are struggling to be Sita, the patient, the all-suffering, the ever-faithful, the ever-pure wife. Through all this suffering she experiences, there is not one harsh word against Rama. She takes it as her own duty, and performs her own part in it. Think of the terrible injustice of her being exiled to the forest! But Sita knows no bitterness. That is, again, the Indian ideal. Says the ancient Buddha, "When a man hurts you, and you turn back to hurt him, that would not cure the first injury; it would only create in the world one more wickedness." Sita was a true Indian by nature; she never returned injury.
Who knows which is the truer ideal? The apparent power and strength, as held in the West, or the fortitude in suffering, of the East?
The West says, "We minimise evil by conquering it." India says, "We destroy evil by suffering, until evil is nothing to us, it becomes positive enjoyment." Well, both are great ideals. Who knows which will survive in the long run? Who knows which attitude will really most benefit humanity? Who knows which will disarm and conquer animality? Will it be suffering, or doing?
In the meantime, let us not try to destroy each other's ideals. We are both intent upon the same work, which is the annihilation of evil. You take up your method; let us take up our method. Let us not destroy the ideal. I do not say to the West, "Take up our method." Certainly not. The goal is the same, but the methods can never be the same. And so, after hearing about the ideals of India, I hope that you will say in the same breath to India, "We know, the goal, the ideal, is all right for us both. You follow your own ideal. You follow your method in your own way, and Godspeed to you!" My message in life is to ask the East and West not to quarrel over different ideals, but to show them that the goal is the same in both cases, however opposite it may appear. As we wend our way through this mazy vale of life, let us bid each other Godspeed.
文本来自Wikisource公共领域。原版由阿德瓦伊塔修道院出版。