Then meekly bowed his head and spake our Lord Before the people: "Surely I shall go! It is my duty as it was my will; Let no man miss to render reverence To those who lend him life, whereby come means To live and die no more, but safe attain Blissful Nirvana, if ye keep the Law, Purging past wrongs and adding nought thereto, Complete in love and lovely charities. Let the King know and let the Princess hear I take the way forthwith." This told, the folk Of white Kapilavastu and its fields Made ready for the entrance of their Prince. At the south gate a bright pavilion rose With flower-wreathed pillars and the walls of silk Wrought on their red and green with woven gold. Also the roads were laid with scented boughs Of neem and mango, and full mussuks shed Sandal and jasmine on the dust, and flags Fluttered; and on the day when he should come It was ordained how many elephants-- With silver howdahs and their tusks gold-tipped-- Should wait beyond the ford, and where the drums Should boom "Siddartha cometh!" where the lords Should light and worship, and the dancing-girls Where they should strew their flowers with dance and song So that the steed he rode might tramp knee-deep In rose and balsam, and the ways be fair; While the town rang with music and high joy. This was ordained and all men's ears were pricked Dawn after dawn to catch the first drum's beat Announcing, "Now he cometh!" But it fell Eager to be before--Yasodhara Rode in her litter to the city-walls Where soared the bright pavilion. All around A beauteous garden smiled--Nigrodha named-- Shaded with bel-trees and the green-plumed dates, New-trimmed and gay with winding walks and banks Of fruits and flowers; for the southern road Skirted its lawns, on this hand leaf and bloom, On that the suburb-huts where base-borns dwelt Outside the gates, a patient folk and poor, Whose touch for Kshatriya and priest of Brahm Were sore defilement. Yet those, too, were quick With expectation, rising ere the dawn To peer along the road, to climb the trees At far-off trumpet of some elephant, Or stir of temple-drum; and when none came, Busied with lowly chores to please the Prince; Sweeping their door-stones, setting forth their flags, Stringing the fruited fig-leaves into chains, New furbishing the Lingam, decking new Yesterday's faded arc of boughs, but aye Questioning wayfarers if any noise Be on the road of great Siddartha. These The Princess marked with lovely languid eyes, Watching, as they, the southward plain and bent Like them to listen if the passers gave News of the path. So fell it she beheld One slow approaching with his head close shorn, A yellow cloth over his shoulder cast,