



Produced by Chetan Jain, John B. Hare, and Christopher M.
Weimer. HTML version by Al Haines.











  Markandeya Purana

  Books VII and VIII.



  JOURNAL

  OF

  THE ROYAL ASIATIC SOCIETY.



  [New Series, Volume XIII]

  [London, Truebner and Company]

  [1881]


  Scanned and edited by Christopher M. Weimer, May 2002



  ART. XIII.--__Translation of the Markandeya Purana__
  Books VII. VIII.  By the Rev. B. HALE WORTHAM.



  BOOK VII.


  ONCE upon earth there lived a saintly king
  Named Harischandra; pure in heart and mind,
  In virtue eminent, he ruled the world,
  Guarding mankind from evil.  While he reigned
  No famine raged, nor pain; untimely death
  Ne'er cut men off; nor were the citizens
  Of his fair city lawless.  All their wealth,
  And power, and works of righteousness, ne'er filled
  Their hearts with pride; in everlasting youth
  And loveliness the women passed their days.

  It so fell out, that while this mighty king
  Was hunting in the forest, that he heard
  The sound of female voices raised in cry
  Of supplication.  Then he turned and said,
  Leaving the deer to fly unheeded: "Stop!
  Who art thou, full of tyranny and hate,
  That darest thus oppress the earth; while I,
  The tamer of all evil, live and rule?"
  Then, too, the fierce Ganesa,--he who blinds
  The eyes, and foils the wills of men,--he heard
  The cry, and thus within himself he thought:
  "This surely is the great ascetic's work,
  The mighty Visvamitra; he whose acts
  Display the fruits of penance hard and sore.
  Upon the sciences he shows his power,
  While they, in patience, discipline of mind,
  And silence perfected, cry out with fear,
  'What shall we do?  The illustrious Kausika
  Is powerful; and we, compared with him,
  Are feeble.'  Thus they cry.  What shall I do?
  My mind is filled with doubt.  Yet stay; a thought
  Has come across me: Lo! this king who cries
  Unceasingly, 'Fear not!' meeting with him,
  And entering his heart, I will fulfil
  All my desire."  Then filled with Rudra's son--
  Inspired with rage by Vigna Raj--the king
  Spake up and said: "What evil doer is here,
  Binding the fire on his garment's hem,
  While I, his king, in power and arms renowned,
  Resplendent in my glory, pass for nought?
  Surely the never-ending sleep of death
  Shall overtake him, and his limbs shall fail,
  Smitten with darts from my far-reaching bow,
  Whose fame this lower world may scarce contain."
  Hearing the prince's words, the saint was filled
  With wrath o'erpow'ring, and the sciences
  Fell blasted in a moment at his glance.

  But when the king beheld the pious sage
  All-powerful, he quaked exceedingly,
  And trembled like the sacred fig-tree's leaves.
  Then Visvamitra cried: "Stop, miscreant!"
  And Harischandra, humbly falling down
  Before the saint, in accents low and meek:
  "O Lord! most holy! most adorable!
  Oh, blame me not!  This is no fault of mine!
  My duty calls," he said, "I must obey."
  "Is it not written in the Holy Law,
  'Alms must be given by a virtuous king;
  His people must be fought for, and be kept
  From every ill'?"  Then Visvamitra spoke
  And said: "To whom, O king, should'st thou give alms?
  For whom in battle should'st thou fight? and whom
  Should'st thou protect?  Oh, tell me, nor delay,
  But quickly answer, if thou fearest sin."
  "Alms should be given to Brahmans," said the king:
  "Those who are weak should be protected: foes
  In battle should be met and overcome."

  Then Visvamitra spoke and said: "O king!
  If thus indeed thou rightly dost perceive
  Thy royal duty, give thine alms to me;
  I am a holy Brahman, and I seek
  A dwelling-place; moreover I would gain
  A wife: therefore bestow on me thine alms."
  The king, his heart filled with exceeding joy,
  Felt, as it were, his youth return, and said:
 