Ramayana on Children

His giant foe no answer made, But on his string an arrow laid. He raised his arm, the cord he drew, At Lakshman's breast the arrow flew. Sumitra's son, his foemen's dread, Shot a fleet shaft with crescent head, Which cleft that arrow pointed well, And harmless to the earth it fell. A shower of shafts from Lakshman's bow Fell fast and furious on the foe Who quailed not as the missiles smote With idle force his iron coat. Then came the friendly Wind-God near, And whispered thus in Lakshman's ear: "Such shafts as these in vain assail Thy foe's impenetrable mail. A more tremendous missile try, Or never may the giant die. Employ the mighty spell, and aim The weapon known by Brahma's name." He ceased; Sumitra's son obeyed: On his great bow the shaft was laid, And with a roar like thunder, true As Indra's flashing bolt, it flew. The giant poured his shafts like rain To check its course, but all in vain. With spear and mace and sword he tried To turn the fiery dart aside. Winged with a force which naught could check, It smote the monster in the neck, And, sundered from his shoulders, rolled To earth his head and helm of gold.

His father's fate, from him concealed, Kaikeyi to her son revealed: Told as glad news the story sad, For lust of sway had made her mad: "Thy father, O my darling, know, Has gone the way all life must go: Devout and famed, of lofty thought, In whom the good their refuge sought."

Thus spoke the son of Raghu: she Approached the saintly devotee, Who with her white locks, old and frail, Shook like a plantain in the gale. To that true spouse she bowed her head, And "Lady, I am Sita," said: Raised suppliant hands and prayed her tell That all was prosperous and well.

Yet, trained in war and practised well, O'ermatched by thee, they fought and fell, Stay in thy royal home, nor care The battle and the toil to share; But let the easy fight be won By Indrajit(913) thy matchless son. All, all shall die, if thou permit, Slain by the hand of Indrajit."

The hours of night now waning fast On Sona's pleasant shore they passed. Then, when the dawn began to break, To Rama thus the hermit spake: "The light of dawn is breaking clear, The hour of morning rites is near. Rise, Rama, rise, dear son, I pray, And make thee ready for the way."

The hermit ceased: the tale was done: Then in a transport Raghu's son Again addressed the ancient sire Resplendent as a burning fire: "O holy man, I fain would hear The tale repeated full and clear How he from whom my sires descend Brought the great rite to happy end." The hermit answered with a smile: "Then listen, son of Raghu, while My legendary tale proceeds To tell of high-souled Sagar's deeds. Within the spacious plain that lies From where Himalaya's heights arise To where proud Vindhya's rival chain Looks down upon the subject plain-- A land the best for rites declared(183)-- His sacrifice the king prepared. And Ansuman the prince--for so Sagar advised--with ready bow Was borne upon a mighty car To watch the steed who roamed afar. But Indra, monarch of the skies, Veiling his form in demon guise, Came down upon the appointed day And drove the victim horse away. Reft of the steed the priests, distressed, The master of the rite addressed: "Upon the sacred day by force A robber takes the victim horse. Haste, King! now let the thief be slain; Bring thou the charger back again: The sacred rite prevented thus Brings scathe and woe to all of us. Rise, monarch, and provide with speed That naught its happy course impede."

And for the son of Raghu's sake The toil and danger undertake: For breach of faith were grievous wrong, Nor wouldst thou be unpunished long. Now, brother, take this chain of gold, Gift of celestial hands of old, Or when I die its charm will flee, And all its might be lost with me."

"Not mighty Indra can assail Or see me when I choose to veil My form in battle: and can ye, Children of earth, contend with me? The arrowy noose this hand has shot Has bound you with a hopeless knot; And, slaughtered by my shafts and bow, To Yama's hall this hour ye go."

While yet the dust was seen afar That marked the course of Rama's car, The glory of Ikshvaku's race Turned not away his eager face. While yet his duteous son he saw He could not once his gaze withdraw, But rooted to the spot remained With eyes that after Rama strained. But when that dust no more he viewed, Fainting he fell by grief subdued. To his right hand Kausalya went, And ready aid the lady lent, While Bharat's loving mother tried To raise him on the other side. The king, within whose ordered soul Justice and virtue held control, To Queen Kaikeyi turned and said, With every sense disquieted: "Touch me not, thou whose soul can plot All sin. Kaikeyi, touch me not. No loving wife, no friend to me, I ne'er again would look on thee; Ne'er from this day have aught to do With thee and all thy retinue; Thee whom no virtuous thoughts restrain, Whose selfish heart seeks only gain. The hand I laid in mine, O dame, The steps we took around the flame,(317) And all that links thy life to mine Here and hereafter I resign. If Bharat too, thy darling son, Joy in the rule thy art has won, Ne'er may the funeral offerings paid By his false hand approach my shade."

The princely tamers of their foes Thus passed the night in calm repose, Then to the hermit having bent With reverence, on their way they went. High favour Bharadvaja showed, And blessed them ready for the road. With such fond looks as fathers throw On their own sons, before they go. Then spake the saint with glory bright To Rama peerless in his might: "First, lords of men, direct your feet Where Yamuna and Ganga meet; Then to the swift Kalindi(330) go, Whose westward waves to Ganga flow. When thou shalt see her lovely shore Worn by their feet who hasten o'er, Then, Raghu's son, a raft prepare, And cross the Sun born river there. Upon her farther bank a tree, Near to the landing wilt thou see. The blessed source of varied gifts, There her green boughs that Fig-tree lifts: A tree where countless birds abide, By Syama's name known far and wide. Sita, revere that holy shade: There be thy prayers for blessing prayed. Thence for a league your way pursue, And a dark wood shall meet your view, Where tall bamboos their foliage show, The Gum-tree and the Jujube grow. To Chitrakuta have I oft Trodden that path so smooth and soft, Where burning woods no traveller scare, But all is pleasant, green, and fair."

Next, Rishyasring, well-honoured sage, And Santa, sought their hermitage. The king himself, of prudent mind, Attended him, with troops behind. And all her men the town outpoured With Saint Vasishtha and their lord. High mounted on a car of state, O'er canopied fair Santa sate. Drawn by white oxen, while a band Of servants marched on either hand. Great gifts of countless price she bore, With sheep and goats and gems in store. Like Beauty's self the lady shone With all the jewels she had on, As, happy in her sweet content, Peerless amid the fair she went. Not Queen Paulomi's(125) self could be More loving to her lord than she. She who had lived in happy ease, Honoured with all her heart could please, While dames and kinsfolk ever vied To see her wishes gratified, Soon as she knew her husband's will Again to seek the forest, still Was ready for the hermit's cot, Nor murmured at her altered lot. The king attended to the wild That hermit and his own dear child, And in the centre of a throng Of noble courtiers rode along. The sage's son had let prepare A lodge within the wood, and there While they lingered blithe and gay. Then, duly honoured, went their way. The glorious hermit Rishyasring Drew near and thus besought the king:

Returning homeward from afar Borne on his elephant or car, He ever to the townsmen bends And greets them as beloved friends, Asks how each son, each servant thrives, How fare our pupils, offerings, wives; And like a father bids us tell, Each for himself, that all is well. If pain or grief the city tries His heart is swift to sympathize. When festive scenes our thoughts employ He like a father shares the joy. High is the fate, O King, that gave Thy Rama born to bless and save, With filial virtues fair and mild Like Kasyap old Marichi's child. Hence to the kingdom's distant ends One general prayer for him ascends. Each man in town and country prays For Rama's strength, health, length of days. With hearts sincere, their wish the same, The tender girl, the aged dame, Subject and stranger, peasant, hind, One thought impressed on every mind, At evening and at dawning day To all the Gods for Rama pray. Do thou, O King, of grace comply, And hear the people's longing cry, And let us on the throne by thee The lotus-tinted Rama see. O thou who givest boons, attend; A gracious ear, O Monarch, lend And for our weal install, Consenting to our earnest prayer, Thy godlike Rama Regent Heir, Who seeks the good of all."

They drank the water fresh and clear, And with their shafts they slew a deer. A fire of boughs they made in haste, And in the flame the meat they placed. So Raghu's sons with Sita shared The hunter's meal their hands prepared, Then counselled that the spreading tree Their shelter and their home should be.

The Town-destroyer, Thousand-eyed, Who smote fierce Bali till he died, Joined suppliant hands, and thus replied: "Thy children heavenly forms shall wear; The names devised by thee shall bear, And, Maruts called by my decree, Shall Amrit drink and wait on me. From fear and age and sickness freed, Through the three worlds their wings shall speed."

As when the driver's torturing hook Goads on an elephant, the look Of sire and mother in despair Was more than Rama's heart could bear. As mother kine to stalls return Which hold the calves for whom they yearn, So to the car she tried to run As a cow seeks her little one. Once and again the hero's eyes Looked on his mother, as with cries Of woe she called and gestures wild, "O Sita, Lakshman, O my child!" "Stay," cried the king, "thy chariot stay:" "On, on," cried Rama, "speed away." As one between two hosts, inclined To neither was Sumantra's mind. But Rama spake these words again: "A lengthened woe is bitterest pain. On, on; and if his wrath grow hot, Thine answer be, 'I heard thee not.' " Sumantra, at the chief's behest, Dismissed the crowd that toward him pressed, And, as he bade, to swiftest speed Urged on his way each willing steed. The king's attendants parted thence, And paid him heart-felt reverence: In mind, and with the tears he wept, Each still his place near Rama kept. As swift away the horses sped, His lords to Dasaratha said: "To follow him whom thou again Wouldst see returning home is vain." With failing limb and drooping mien He heard their counsel wise: Still on their son the king and queen Kept fast their lingering eyes.(314)

But if the needful power were bought By strength of mind and brooding thought, No triumph shall attend the dame Who dooms her son to lasting shame. Now should no doubt that son prevent From quitting thee on evil bent. But Rama's love o'erpowers my will, Who holds thee as his mother still. Whence did the thought, O thou whose eyes Are turned to sinful deeds, arise-- A plan our ancient sires would hate, O fallen from thy virtuous state? For in the line from which we spring The eldest is anointed king: No monarchs from the rule decline, And, least of all, Ikshvaku's line. Our holy sires, to virtue true, Upon our race a lustre threw, But with subversive frenzy thou Hast marred our lineal honour now, Of lofty birth, a noble line Of previous kings is also thine: Then whence this hated folly? whence This sudden change that steals thy sense? Thou shalt not gain thine impious will, O thou whose thoughts are bent on ill, Thou from whose guilty hand descend These sinful blows my life to end. Now to the forest will I go, Thy cherished plans to overthrow, And bring my brother, free from stain, His people's darling, home again. And Rama, when again he turns, Whose glory like a beacon burns, In me a faithful slave shall find To serve him with contented mind."

As Rama spake, his eyes were bent Upon a hermit settlement With light of heavenly lore endued, With sacred grass and vesture strewed. His wife and brother by his side, Within the holy bounds he hied, And there, with honour entertained By all the saints, a while remained. In time, by due succession led, Each votary's cot he visited, And then the lord of martial lore, Returned where he had lodged before. Here for the months, content, he stayed, There for a year his visit paid: Here for four months his home would fix, There, as it chanced, for five or six. Here for eight months and there for three The son of Raghu's stay would be: Here weeks, there fortnights, more or less, He spent in tranquil happiness. As there the hero dwelt at ease Among those holy devotees, In days untroubled o'er his head Ten circling years of pleasure fled. So Raghu's son in duty trained A while in every cot remained, Then with his dame retraced the road To good Sutikshna's calm abode. Hailed by the saints with honours due Near to the hermit's home he drew, And there the tamer of his foes Dwelt for a time in sweet repose. One day within that holy wood By saint Sutikshna Rama stood, And thus the prince with reverence meek To that high sage began to speak:

"Thou Dasaratha's son, hast slain The meaner giants of my train: And canst thou idly vaunt thy might And claim the praise not thine by right? Not thus in self-laudation rave The truly great, the nobly brave: No empty boasts like thine disgrace The foremost of the human race. The mean of soul, unknown to fame, Who taint their warrior race with shame, Thus speak in senseless pride as thou, O Raghu's son, hast boasted now. What hero, when the war-cry rings, Vaunts the high race from which he springs, Or seeks, when warriors meet and die, His own descent to glorify? Weakness and folly show confessed In every vaunt thou utterest, As when the flames fed high with grass Detect the simulating brass. Dost thou not see me standing here Armed with the mighty mace I rear, Firm as an earth upholding hill Whose summit veins of metal fill? Lo, here I stand before thy face To slay thee with my murderous mace, As Death, the universal lord, Stands threatening with his fatal cord. Enough of this. Much more remains That should be said: but time constrains. Ere to his rest the sun descend, And shades of night the combat end, The twice seven thousand of my band Who fell beneath thy bloody hand Shall have their tears all wiped away And triumph in thy fall to-day."

He heard, his bosom rent by grief, The counsel of his brother chief; Crushed in his heart the maddening pain, And rose resolved and strong again. Then forth upon his journey went The hero on his task intent, Nor thought of Pampa's lovely brook, Or trees which murmuring breezes shook, Though on dark woods his glances fell, On waterfall and cave and dell; And still by many a care distressed The son of Raghu onward pressed. As some wild elephant elate Moves through the woods in pride, So Lakshman with majestic gait Strode by his brother's side. He, for his lofty spirit famed, Admonished and consoled; Showed Raghu's son what duty claimed, And bade his heart be bold. Then as the brothers strode apace To Rishyamuka's height, The sovereign of the Vanar race(536) Was troubled at the sight. As on the lofty hill he strayed He saw the chiefs draw near: A while their glorious forms surveyed, And mused in restless fear. His slow majestic step he stayed And gazed upon the pair. And all his spirit sank dismayed By fear too great to bear. When in their glorious might the best Of royal chiefs came nigh, The Vanars in their wild unrest Prepared to turn and fly. They sought the hermit's sacred home(537) For peace and bliss ordained, And there, where Vanars loved to roam, A sure asylum gained.

He spoke by generous impulse moved, And Raghu's son his speech approved Glancing at Lakshman by his side, Like Indra in his beauty's pride. The Vanar monarch saw the pair Of mighty brothers standing there, And turned his rapid eye to view The forest trees that near him grew. He saw, not far from where he stood, A Sal tree towering o'er the wood. Amid the thick leaves many a bee Graced the scant blossoms of the tree, From whose dark shade a bough, that bore A load of leafy twigs, he tore, Which on the grassy ground he laid And seats for him and Rama made. Hanuman saw them sit, he sought A Sal tree's leafy bough and brought The burthen, and with meek request Entreated Lakshman, too, to rest. There on the noble mountain's brow, Strewn with the young leaves of the bough, Sat Raghu's son in placid ease Calm as the sea when sleeps the breeze. Sugriva's heart with rapture swelled, And thus, by eager love impelled, He spoke in gracious tone, that, oft Checked by his joy, was low and soft: "I, by my brother's might oppressed, By ceaseless woe and fear distressed, Mourning my consort far away, On Rishyamuka's mountain stray. Expelled by Bali's cruel hate I wander here disconsolate. Do thou to whom all sufferers flee, From his dread hand deliver me."

"How couldst thou leave thine Angad thus, And go, for ever go, from us-- Thy child so dear in brave attire, Graced with the virtues of his sire? If e'er in want of thought, O chief, One deed of mine have caused thee grief, Forgive my folly, I entreat, And with my head I touch thy feet."

The Wind-God's son a temple(873) scaled Which, by his fury unassailed, High as the hill of Meru, stood Amid the ruins of the wood; And in his fury thundered out Again his haughty battle-shout: "I am the slave of Kosal's King Whose wondrous deeds the minstrels sing." Forth hurried, by that shout alarmed, The warders of the temple armed With every weapon haste supplied, And closed him in on every side, With bands that strove to pierce and strike With shaft and axe and club and pike. Then from its base the Vanar tore A pillar with the weight it bore. Against the wall the mass he dashed, And forth the flames in answer flashed, That wildly ran o'er roofs and wall In hungry rage consuming all. He whirled the pillar round his head And struck a hundred giants dead. Then high upheld on air he rose And called in thunder to his foes: "A thousand Vanar chiefs like me Roam at their will o'er land and sea, Terrific might we all possess: Our stormy speed is limitless. And all, unconquered in the fray, Our king Sugriva's word obey. Backed by his bravest myriads, he Our warrior lord will cross the sea. Then Lanka's lofty towers, and all Your hosts and Ravan's self shall fall. None shall be left unslaughtered; none Who braves the wrath of Raghu's son."

His children's speech King Sagar heard, And answered thus, to anger stirred: "Dig on, and ne'er your labour stay Till through earth's depths you force your way. Then smite the robber dead, and bring The charger back with triumphing." The sixty thousand chiefs obeyed: Deep through the earth their way they made. Deep as they dug and deeper yet The immortal elephant they met, Famed Virupaksha(188) vast of size, Upon whose head the broad earth lies: The mighty beast who earth sustains With shaggy hills and wooded plains. When, with the changing moon, distressed, And longing for a moment's rest, His mighty head the monster shakes, Earth to the bottom reels and quakes. Around that warder strong and vast With reverential steps they passed. Nor, when the honour due was paid, Their downward search through earth delayed. But turning from the east aside Southward again their task they plied. There Mahapadma held his place, The best of all his mighty race, Like some huge hill, of monstrous girth, Upholding on his head the earth. When the vast beast the princes saw, They marvelled and were filled with awe. The sons of high-souled Sagar round That elephant in reverence wound. Then in the western region they With might unwearied cleft their way. There saw they with astonisht eyes Saumanas, beast of mountain size. Round him with circling steps they went With greetings kind and reverent.

As thus the king that youth conveyed, His weary steeds at length he stayed At height of noon their rest to take Upon the bank of Pushkar's lake. There while the king enjoyed repose The captive Sunahsepha rose, And hasting to the water's side His uncle Visvamitra spied, With many a hermit 'neath the trees Engaged in stern austerities.

He ended: and the king, distressed. With sobbing voice that lord addressed: "Ah me, by false Kaikeyi led, Of evil race, to evil bred, I took no counsel of the sage, Nor sought advice from skill and age, I asked no lord his aid to lend, I called no citizen or friend. Rash was my deed, bereft of sense Slave to a woman's influence. Surely, my lord, a woe so great Falls on us by the will of Fate; It lays the house of Raghu low, For Destiny will have it so. I pray thee, if I e'er have done An act to please thee, yea, but one, Fly, fly, and Rama homeward lead: My life, departing, counsels speed. Fly, ere the power to bid I lack, Fly to the wood: bring Rama back. I cannot live for even one Short hour bereaved of my son. But ah, the prince, whose arms are strong, Has journeyed far: the way is long: Me, me upon the chariot place, And let me look on Rama's face. Ah me, my son, mine eldest-born, Where roams he in the wood forlorn, The wielder of the mighty bow, Whose shoulders like the lion's show? O, ere the light of life be dim, Take me to Sita and to him. O Rama, Lakshman, and O thou Dear Sita, constant to thy vow, Beloved ones, you cannot know That I am dying of my woe."

Soon as he saw the prince's mind To rest that day was well inclined, He sought Kaikeyi's son to please With hospitable courtesies. Then Bharat to the saint replied: "Our wants are more than satisfied. The gifts which honoured strangers greet, And water for our weary feet Hast thou bestowed with friendly care, And every choice of woodland fare."

Thus Raghu's son in piteous tone, O'erwhelmed with sorrow, made his moan. E'en as the bird that drinks the rains(632) To Indra thousand-eyed complains. Then Lakshman who had wandered through The copses where the berries grew, Returning to the cavern found His brother chief in sorrow drowned, And pitying the woes that broke The spirit of the hero spoke:

"Quick, quick! This Vanar host restrain, For heralds never must be slain. To him alone, a wretch untrue, The punishment of death is due Who leaves his master's speech unsaid And speaks another in its stead." Moved by the suppliant speech and prayer Up sprang the prince and cried, forbear. Saved from his wild assailant's blows Again the Rakshas herald rose And borne on light wings to the sky Addressed Sugriva from on high: "O Vanar Monarch, chief endued With power and wonderous fortitude, What answer is my king, the fear And scourge of weeping worlds, to hear?" "Go tell thy lord," Sugriva cried, "Thou, Rama's foe, art thus defied. His arm the guilty Bali slew; Thus, tyrant, shalt thou perish too. Thy sons, thy friends, proud King, and all Thy kith and kin with thee shall fall; And, emptied of the giant's brood, Burnt Lanka be a solitude. Fly to the Sun-God's pathway, go And hide thee deep in hell below: In vain from Rama shalt thou flee Though heavenly warriors fight for thee. Thine arm subdued, securely bold, The Vulture-king infirm and old: But will thy puny strength avail When Raghu's wrathful sons assail? A captive in thy palace lies The lady of the lotus eyes: Thou knowest not how fierce and strong Is he whom thou hast dared to wrong. The best of Raghu's lineage, he Whose conquering hand shall punish thee."

The crowd dismissed, to high debate The monarch called his peers of state, And, counsel from their lips obtained, Firm in his will his will explained: "To-morrow with auspicious ray The moon in Pushya's sign will stay; Be that the time with happy fate Mine eldest son to consecrate, And let my Rama, lotus-eyed, As Regent o'er the state preside."

Here players shone in bright attire, There dancing women swelled the quire. Each with his friend had much to say Of Rama's consecration-day: Yea, even children, as they played At cottage doors beneath the shade. The royal street with flowers was strown Which loving hands in heaps had thrown, And here and there rich incense lent Its fragrance to the garland's scent; And all was fresh and fair and bright In honour of the coming rite. With careful foresight to illume With borrowed blaze the midnight gloom, The crowds erected here and there Trees in each street gay lamps to bear. The city thus from side to side In festal guise was beautified. The people of the town who longed To view the rite together thronged, And filling every court and square Praised the good king in converse there: "Our high-souled king! He throws a grace On old Ikshvaku's royal race. He feels his years' increasing weight, And makes his son associate. Great joy to us the choice will bring Of Rama for our lord and king. The good and bad to him are known, And long will he protect his own. No pride his prudent breast may swell, Most just, he loves his brothers well, And to us all that love extends, Cherished as brothers and as friends. Long may our lord in life remain, Good Dasaratha, free from stain, By whose most gracious favour we Rama anointed king shall see."

Then sprang the Wind-God's son the best Of Vanars, on Mahendra's crest, And the great mountain rocked and swayed By that unusual weight dismayed, As reels an elephant beneath The lion's spring and rending teeth. The shady wood that crowned him shook, The trembling birds the boughs forsook, And ape and pard and lion fled From brake and lair disquieted.

Soon as the warriors took their rest Obeying Bharat's high behest, Thus Bharat to Satrughna spake: "A band of soldiers with thee take, And with these hunters o'er and o'er The thickets of the wood explore. With bow, sword, arrows in their hands Let Guha with his kindred bands Within this grove remaining trace The children of Kakutstha's race. And I meanwhile on foot will through This neighbouring wood my way pursue, With elders and the twice-born men, And every lord and citizen. There is, I feel, no rest for me Till Rama's face again I see, Lakshman, in arms and glory great, And Sita born to happy fate: No rest, until his cheek as bright As the fair moon rejoice my sight, No rest until I see the eye With which the lotus petals vie; Till on my head those dear feet rest With signs of royal rank impressed; None, till my kingly brother gain His old hereditary reign, Till o'er his limbs and noble head The consecrating drops be shed. How blest is Janak's daughter, true To every wifely duty, who Cleaves faithful to her husband's side Whose realm is girt by Ocean's tide! This mountain too above the rest E'en as the King of Hills is blest,-- Whose shades Kakutstha's scion hold As Nandan charms the Lord of Gold. Yea, happy is this tangled grove Where savage beasts unnumbered rove, Where, glory of the Warrior race, King Rama finds a dwelling-place."

"By changeless law our bliss and woe From ancient worth and folly flow. What fruits soe'er we cull, the seeds Were scattered by our former deeds.(602) Why mourn another's mournful fate, And weep, thyself unfortunate? Be calm, O thou whose heart is wise, For none deserves another's sighs. Look up, with idle sorrow strive: Thy child, his heir, is yet alive. Let needful rites be duly done, Nor in thy woe forget thy son. Regard the law which all obey: They spring to life, they pass away. Begin the task that bids thee rise, And stay these tears, for thou art wise. Our lord the king is doomed to die, On whom ten million hearts rely. Kind, liberal, patient, true, and just Was he in whom they place their trust, And now he seeks the land of those Who for the right subdue their foes. Each Vanar lord with all his train, Each ranger of this wild domain, And Angad here, thy darling, see A governor and friend in thee. These twain(603) whose hearts with sorrow ache The funeral rites shall undertake, And Angad by his mother's care Be king, his father's rightful heir. Now let him pay, as laws require, His sacred duty to his sire, Nor one solemnity omit Of all that mighty kings befit. And when thy fond eye sees thine own Dear Angad on his father's throne, Then, lightened of its load of pain, Thy spirit will have rest again."

Then fiercer for the fight he burned, And at the foe his chariot turned, While all his followers lifting high Their maces charged with furious cry. Dire, yet more dire the battle grew, As rocks and trees and arrows flew. The giant shot his shafts like rain, And Vanars fell in myriads slain, Sugriva, Angad, Nila felt The wounds his hurtling arrows dealt. His shafts the blood of Gaya drank; Hanuman reeled and Mainda sank. Bright as the glances of the sun Came the swift darts they could not shun. Caught in the arrowy nets he wove, In vain the sons of Raghu strove; And Rama, by the darts oppressed, His brother chieftain thus addressed: "See, first this giant warrior sends Destruction, mid our Vanar friends, And now his arrows thick and fast Their binding net around us cast. To Brahma's grace the chieftain owes The matchless power and might he shows; And mortal strength in vain contends With him whom Brahma's self befriends. Then let us still with dauntless hearts Endure this storm of pelting darts. Soon must we sink bereaved of sense; And then the victor, hurrying hence, Will seek his father in his hall And tell him of his foemen's fall." He ceased: o'erpowered by shaft and spell The sons of Raghu reeled and fell. The Rakshas on their bodies gazed; And, mid the shouts his followers raised, Sped back to Lanka to relate In Ravan's hall the princes' fate.

"A king of Brahma's seed who bore The name of Kusa reigned of yore. Just, faithful to his vows, and true, He held the good in honour due. His bride, a queen of noble name, Of old Vidarbha's(172) monarchs came. Like their own father, children four, All valiant boys, the lady bore. In glorious deeds each nerve they strained, And well their Warrior part sustained. To them most just, and true, and brave, Their father thus his counsel gave: "Beloved children, ne'er forget Protection is a prince's debt: The noble work at once begin, High virtue and her fruits to win." The youths, to all the people dear, Received his speech with willing ear; And each went forth his several way, Foundations of a town to lay. Kusamba, prince of high renown, Was builder of Kausambi's town, And Kusanabha, just and wise, Bade high Mahodaya's towers arise. Amurtarajas chose to dwell In Dharmaranya's citadel, And Vasu bade his city fair The name of Girivraja bear.(173) This fertile spot whereon we stand Was once the high-souled Vasu's land. Behold! as round we turn our eyes, Five lofty mountain peaks arise. See! bursting from her parent hill, Sumagadhi, a lovely rill, Bright gleaming as she flows between The mountains, like a wreath is seen, And then through Magadh's plains and groves With many a fair maeander roves. And this was Vasu's old domain, The fertile Magadh's broad champaign, Which smiling fields of tilth adorn And diadem with golden corn.

That speech of Guha Bharat heard With grief and tender pity stirred, And as his ears the story drank, Deep in his thoughtful heart it sank. His large full eyes in anguish rolled, His trembling limbs grew stiff and cold; Then fell he, like a tree uptorn, In woe too grievous to be borne. When Guha saw the long-armed chief Whose eye was like a lotus leaf, With lion shoulders strong and fair, High-mettled, prostrate in despair,-- Pale, bitterly afflicted, he Reeled as in earthquake reels a tree. But when Satrughna standing nigh Saw his dear brother helpless lie, Distraught with woe his head he bowed, Embraced him oft and wept aloud. Then Bharat's mothers came, forlorn Of their dear king, with fasting worn, And stood with weeping eyes around The hero prostrate on the ground. Kausalya, by her woe oppressed, The senseless Bharat's limbs caressed, As a fond cow in love and fear Caresses oft her youngling dear: Then yielding to her woe she said, Weeping and sore disquieted: "What torments, O my son, are these Of sudden pain or swift disease? The lives of us and all the line Depend, dear child, on only thine. Rama and Lakshman forced to flee, I live by naught but seeing thee: For as the king has past away Thou art my only help to-day. Hast thou, perchance, heard evil news Of Lakshman, which thy soul subdues, Or Rama dwelling with his spouse-- My all is he--neath forest boughs?"

With bitter words and threatening mien Thus furious spoke the fierce fourteen, And raising scimitar and spear On Rama rushed in wild career. Their levelled spears the giant crew Against the matchless hero threw. His bow the son of Raghu bent, And twice seven shafts to meet them sent, And every javelin sundered fell By the bright darts he aimed so well.

"O timid heart, to counsel thus! What terrors have the Gods for us? Can snake, Gandharva, fiend appal The giants' sons who scorn them all? And shall we now our birth disgrace, And dread a king of human race?" Thus fierce Prahasta counselled ill: But sage Vibhishan's constant will The safety of the realm ensued; Who thus in turn his speech renewed:

Nor could their matchless valour shield These heroes on the battle field. I sorrow for the noble dead, I mourn my hopes for ever fled; But chief my weeping eyes o'erflow For Queen Kausalya's hopeless woe. The widowed queen is counting now Each hour prescribed by Rama's vow, And lives because she longs to see Once more her princely sons and me."

"Yea, dearer than my noblest friends Is he on whom our hope depends. For if the Wind-God's son survive, All we though dead are yet alive. But if his precious life be fled Though living still we are but dead: He is our hope and sure relief." Thus slowly spoke the aged chief: Then to his side Hanuman came, And with low reverence named his name. Cheered by the face he longed to view The wounded chieftain lived anew. "Go forth," he cried, "O strong and brave, And in their woe the Vanars save. No might but thine, supremely great, May help us in our lost estate. The trembling bears and Vanars cheer, Calm their sad hearts, dispel their fear. Save Raghu's noble sons, and heal The deep wounds of the winged steel. High o'er the waters of the sea To far Himalaya's summits flee. Kailasa there wilt thou behold, And Rishabh, with his peaks of gold. Between them see a mountain rise Whose splendour will enchant thine eyes; His sides are clothed above, below, With all the rarest herbs that grow. Upon that mountain's lofty crest Four plants, of sovereign powers possessed, Spring from the soil, and flashing there Shed radiance through the neighbouring air. One draws the shaft: one brings again The breath of life to warm the slain; One heals each wound; one gives anew To faded cheeks their wonted hue. Fly, chieftain, to that mountain's brow And bring those herbs to save us now."

The wicked queen her speech renewed, When rolling on the earth she viewed Ikshvaku's son, Ayodhya's king, For his dear Rama sorrowing: "Why, by a simple promise bound, Liest thou prostrate on the ground, As though a grievous sin dismayed Thy spirit! Why so sore afraid? Keep still thy word. The righteous deem That truth, mid duties, is supreme: And now in truth and honour's name I bid thee own the binding claim. Saivya, a king whom earth obeyed, Once to a hawk a promise made, Gave to the bird his flesh and bone, And by his truth made heaven his own.(277) Alarka, when a Brahman famed For Scripture lore his promise claimed, Tore from his head his bleeding eyes And unreluctant gave the prize. His narrow bounds prescribed restrain The Rivers' Lord, the mighty main, Who, though his waters boil and rave, Keeps faithful to the word he gave. Truth all religion comprehends, Through all the world its might extends: In truth alone is justice placed, On truth the words of God are based: A life in truth unchanging past Will bring the highest bliss at last. If thou the right would still pursue, Be constant to thy word and true: Let me thy promise fruitful see, For boons, O King, proceed from thee. Now to preserve thy righteous fame, And yielding to my earnest claim-- Thrice I repeat it--send thy child, Thy Rama, to the forest wild. But if the boon thou still deny, Before thy face, forlorn, I die."

To him the hermit thus replied, By Bharat's tidings gratified: "No marvel thoughts so just and true, Thou best of all who right pursue, Should dwell in thee, O Prince of men, As waters gather in the glen. He is not dead, we mourn in vain: Thy blessed father lives again, Whose noble son we thus behold Like Virtue's self in human mould."

The age of each fair youth appears Some score and five of human years: The ever-blooming prime which they Who live in heaven retain for aye: Such mien these lordly beings wear, Heroic youths, most bright and fair. Now, brother, in this spot, I pray, With the Videhan lady stay, Till I have certain knowledge who This being is, so bright to view."

"What, Rama, canst thou blindly cling To this old false misshapen thing? Wilt thou refuse the charms of youth For withered breast and grinning tooth! Canst thou this wretched creature prize And look on me with scornful eyes? This aged crone this very hour Before thy face will I devour: Then joyous, from all rivals free. Through Dandak will I stray with thee."

But other thoughts resumed their sway When Lanka's town in ruin lay; And, as his bosom felt their weight He stood a while to meditate. "What have I done?", he thought with shame, "Destroyed the town with hostile flame. O happy they whose firm control Checks the wild passion of the soul; Who on the fires of anger throw The cooling drops that check their glow. But woe is me, whom wrath could lead To do this senseless shameless deed. The town to fire and death I gave, Nor thought of her I came to save,-- Doomed by my own rash folly, doomed To perish in the flames consumed. If I, when anger drove me wild, Have caused the death of Janak's child, The kindled flame shall end my woe, Or the deep fires that burn below,(886) Or my forsaken corse shall be Food for the monsters of the sea. How can I meet Sugriva? how Before the royal brothers bow,-- I whose rash deed has madly foiled, The noble work in which we toiled? Or has her own bright virtue shed Its guardian influence round her head? She lives untouched,--the peerless dame; Flame has no fury for the flame.(887) The very fire would ne'er consent To harm a queen so excellent,-- The high-souled Rama's faithful wife, Protected by her holy life. She lives, she lives. Why should I fear For one whom Raghu's sons hold dear? Has not the pitying fire that spared The Vanar for the lady cared?"

With angry menace Rama, best Of Raghu's sons, the Sea addressed: "With fiery flood of arrowy rain Thy channels will I dry and drain. And I and all the Vanar host Will reach on foot the farther coast. Thou shalt not from destruction save The creatures of the teeming wave, And lapse of time shall ne'er efface The memory of the dire disgrace."

But Indrajit the fierce and bold With words like these his sire consoled: "Dismiss, O King, thy grief and dread, And be not thus disquieted. Against this numbing sorrow strive, For Indrajit is yet alive; And none in battle may withstand The fury of his strong right hand. This day, O sire, thine eyes shall see The sons of Raghu slain by me."

Vasishtha then, with eager cry, Called, "Fear not, friends, nor seek to fly. This son of Gadhi dies to-day, Like hoar-frost in the morning's ray." Thus having said, the glorious sage Spoke to the king in words of rage: "Because thou hast destroyed this grove Which long in holy quiet throve, By folly urged to senseless crime, Now shalt thou die before thy time."

Sumantra went. Then Rama came, And Lakshman, and the Maithil dame, And, as he led them on, their guide Straight to the monarch's presence hied. When yet far off the father saw His son with raised palms toward him draw, Girt by his ladies, sick with woes, Swift from his royal seat he rose. With all his strength the aged man To meet his darling Rama ran, But trembling, wild with dark despair, Fell on the ground and fainted there. And Lakshman, wont in cars to ride, And Rama, threw them by the side Of the poor miserable king, Half lifeless with his sorrow's sting. Throughout the spacious hall up went A thousand women's wild lament: "Ah Rama!" thus they wailed and wept, And anklets tinkled as they stepped Around his body, weeping, threw Their loving arms the brothers two, And then, with Sita's gentle aid, The king upon a couch was laid. At length to earth's imperial lord, When life and knowledge were restored, Though seas of woe went o'er his head, With suppliant hand, thus Rama said: "Lord of us all, great King, thou art: Bid me farewell before we part, To Dandak wood this day I go: One blessing and one look bestow. Let Lakshman my companion be, And Sita also follow me. With truthful pleas I sought to bend Their purpose; but no ear they lend. Now cast this sorrow from thy heart, And let us all, great King, depart. As Brahma sends his children, so Let Lakshman, me, and Sita go."

How, urged by stress of any ill, Should sons their father's life-blood spill, Or brother slay in impious strife A brother dearer than his life? If thou these cruel words hast said By strong desire of empire led, My brother Bharat will I pray To give to thee the kingly sway. "Give him the realm," my speech shall be, And Bharat will, methinks, agree."

Then, skilled in lore and arts that guide The speaker, Raghu's son replied: "For fourteen years I might not break The mandate that my father spake; Nor can I, till that time be fled, The street of town or village tread. Let King Sugriva seek the town Most worthy of her high renown, There let him be without delay Anointed, and begin his sway."

One awful demon, fiery-eyed, Stood by the Maithil queen and cried: 'Come and be his, if thou art wise, Who smote the sovereign of the skies, And made the thirty Gods and three,(839) O'ercome in furious battle, flee. Thy lover turns away with scorn From wives whom grace and youth adorn. Thou art his chosen consort, thou Shall be his pride and darling now."

He smiled, and on his brother gazed Who sate with reverent hands upraised, And said: "My brother, thou must be Joint-ruler of this land with me. My second self thou, Lakshman, art, And in my fortune bearest part. Be thine, Sumitra's son, to know The joys from regal power that flow. My life itself, the monarch's seat, For thy dear sake to me are sweet."

In pleasant words then Rama gave His best to Lakshman prompt and brave, As Brahma speaks for Him to hear Who rules the Gods' celestial sphere: "To the two best of Brahmans run; Agastya bring, and Kusik's son, And precious gifts upon them rain, Like fostering floods upon the grain. O long-armed Prince of Raghu's line, Delight them with a thousand kine, And many a fair and costly gem, With gold and silver, give to them. To him, so deep in Scripture, who, To Queen Kausalya, ever true, Serves her with blessing and respect, Chief of the Taittiriya sect(308)-- To him, with women-slaves, present A chariot rich with ornament, And costly robes of silk beside, Until the sage be satisfied. On Chitraratha, true and dear, My tuneful bard and charioteer, Gems, robes, and plenteous wealth confer-- Mine ancient friend and minister. And these who go with staff in hand, Grammarians trained, a numerous band, Who their deep study only prize, Nor think of other exercise, Who toil not, loving dainty fare, Whose praises e'en the good declare-- On these be eighty cars bestowed, And each with precious treasures load. A thousand bulls for them suffice, Two hundred elephants of price, And let a thousand kine beside The dainties of each meal provide. The throng who sacred girdles wear, And on Kausalya wait with care-- A thousand golden coins shall please, Son of Sumitra, each of these. Let all, dear Lakshman of the train These special gifts of honour gain: My mother will rejoice to know Her Brahmans have been cherished so."

Such were his thoughts: he pondered long, And fear grew faint and hope grew strong. Then round him heavenly voices rang, And, sweetly tuned, his praises sang: "O glorious is the exploit done By Hanuman the Wind-God's son. The flames o'er Lanka's city rise: The giants' home in ruin lies. O'er roof and wall the fires have spread, Nor harmed a hair of Sita's head."

Then Matali to Rama cried: "Let other arms the day decide. Why wilt thou strive with useless toil And see his might thy efforts foil? Launch at the foe thy dart whose fire Was kindled by the Almighty Sire." He ceased: and Raghu's son obeyed: Upon his string the hero laid An arrow, like a snake that hissed. Whose fiery flight had never missed: The arrow Saint Agastya gave And blessed the chieftain's life to save That dart the Eternal Father made The Monarch of the Gods to aid; By Brahma's self on him bestowed When forth to fight Lord Indra rode. 'Twas feathered with the rushing wind; The glowing sun and fire combined To the keen point their splendour lent; The shaft, ethereal element, By Meru's hill and Mandar, pride Of mountains, had its weight supplied. He laid it on the twisted cord, He turned the point at Lanka's lord, And swift the limb-dividing dart Pierced the huge chest and cleft the heart, And dead he fell upon the plain Like Vritra by the Thunderer slain. The Rakahas host when Ravan fell Sent forth a wild terrific yell, Then turned and fled, all hope resigned, Through Lanka's gates, nor looked behind. His voice each joyous Vanar raised, And Rama, conquering Rama, praised. Soft from celestial minstrels came The sound of music and acclaim. Soft, fresh, and cool, a rising breeze Brought odours from the heavenly trees, And ravishing the sight and smell A wondrous rain of blossoms fell: And voices breathed round Raghu's son: "Champion of Gods, well done, well done."

The hermit heard his sons' reply, And burning rage inflamed his eye. Then forth his words of fury burst: "Audacious speech, by virtue cursed! It lifts on end each shuddering hair-- My charge to scorn! my wrath to dare! You, like Vasishtha's evil brood, Shall make the flesh of dogs your food A thousand years in many a birth, And punished thus shall dwell on earth."

Thus by the favour of the sire I kept my cherished wings entire; And for this deed of kindness done I honour thee his noble son. O come, thy weary limbs relieve, And honour due from me receive." "I may not rest," the Vanar cried; "I must not stay or turn aside. Yet pleased am I, thou noblest hill, And as the deed accept thy will."

Then, as a tear bedewed her eye, The hapless lady made reply: "I loathe, with heart and soul detest The shameful life your words suggest. Eat, if you will, this mortal frame: My soul rejects the sin and shame. A homeless wanderer though he be, In him my lord, my life I see, And, till my earthly days be done, Will cling to great Ikshvaku's son."

Bedewed with tears was every cheek As thus the Vanars heard him speak. Vibhishan on the field had stayed The Vanar hosts who fled dismayed. Now lifting up his mace on high With martial step the chief drew nigh. The hosts who watched by Rama's side Beheld his shape and giant stride. 'Tis he, 'tis Ravan's son, they thought: And all in flight their safety sought.