Ramayana on Courage

"False are they all, proved false to-day, The prophets of my fortune, they Who in the tranquil time of old A blessed life for me foretold, Predicting I should never know A childless dame's, a widow's woe, False are they all, their words are vain, For thou, my lord and life, art slain. False was the priest and vain his lore Who blessed me in those days of yore By Rama's side in bliss to reign: For thou, my lord and life, art slain. They hailed me happy from my birth, Proud empress of the lord of earth. They blessed me--but the thought is pain-- For thou, my lord and life, art slain. Ah, fruitless hope! each glorious sign That stamps the future queen is mine, With no ill-omened mark to show A widow's crushing hour of woe. They say my hair is black and fine, They praise my brows' continuous line; My even teeth divided well, My bosom for its graceful swell. They praise my feet and fingers oft; They say my skin is smooth and soft, And call me happy to possess The twelve fair marks that bring success.(955) But ah, what profit shall I gain? Thou, O my lord and life, art slain. The flattering seer in former days My gentle girlish smile would praise, And swear that holy water shed By Brahman hands upon my head Should make me queen, a monarch's bride: How is the promise verified? Matchless in might the brothers slew In Janasthan the giant crew. And forced the indomitable sea To let them pass to rescue me. Theirs was the fiery weapon hurled By him who rules the watery world;(956) Theirs the dire shaft by Indra sped; Theirs was the mystic Brahma's Head.(957) In vain they fought, the bold and brave: A coward's hand their death-wounds gave. By secret shafts and magic spell The brothers, peers of Indra, fell. That foe, if seen by Rama's eye One moment, had not lived to fly. Though swift as thought, his utmost speed Had failed him in the hour of need. No might, no tear, no prayer may stay Fate's dark inevitable day.

Thus scornful Kumbhakarna cried, And Ravan with a laugh replied: "Mahodar fears and fain would shun The battle with Ikshvaku's son. Of all my giant warriors, who Is strong as thou, and brave and true? Ride, conqueror, to the battle ride, And tame the foeman's senseless pride. Go forth like Yama to the field, And let thine arm thy trident wield. Scared by the lightning of thine eye The Vanar hosts will turn and fly; And Rama, when he sees thee near, With trembling heart will own his fear."

Then to the prince his grandson, bright With his own fame's unborrowed light, King Sagar thus began to say, Marvelling at his sons' delay: "Thou art a warrior skilled and bold, Match for the mighty men of old. Now follow on thine uncles' course And track the robber of the horse. To guard thee take thy sword and bow, for huge and strong are beasts below. There to the reverend reverence pay, And kill the foes who check thy way; Then turn successful home and see My sacrifice complete through thee."

Deep, pleasant was the chariot's sound As royal Bharat, far renowned, Whirled by his mettled coursers fast Within Ayodhya's city passed. There dark and drear was every home Where cats and owls had space to roam, As when the shades of midnight fall With blackest gloom, and cover all: As Rohini, dear spouse of him Whom Rahu hates,(396) grows faint and dim, When, as she shines on high alone The demon's shade is o'er her thrown: As burnt by summer's heat a rill Scarce trickling from her parent hill, With dying fish in pools half dried, And fainting birds upon her side: As sacrificial flames arise When holy oil their food supplies, But when no more the fire is fed Sink lustreless and cold and dead: Like some brave host that filled the plain, With harness rent and captains slain, When warrior, elephant, and steed Mingled in wild confusion bleed: As when, all spent her store of worth, Rocks from her base the loosened earth: Like a sad fallen star no more Wearing the lovely light it wore: So mournful in her lost estate Was that sad town disconsolate. Then car-borne Bharat, good and brave, Thus spake to him the steeds who drave: "Why are Ayodhya's streets so mute? Where is the voice of lyre and lute? Why sounds not, as of old, to-day The music of the minstrel's lay? Where are the wreaths they used to twine? Where are the blossoms and the wine? Where is the cool refreshing scent Of sandal dust with aloe blent? The elephant's impatient roar, The din of cars, I hear no more: No more the horse's pleasant neigh Rings out to meet me on my way. Ayodhya's youths, since Rama's flight, Have lost their relish for delight: Her men roam forth no more, nor care Bright garlands round their necks to wear. All grieve for banished Rama: feast, And revelry and song have ceased: Like a black night when floods pour down, So dark and gloomy is the town. When will he come to make them gay Like some auspicious holiday? When will my brother, like a cloud At summer's close, make glad the crowd?"

With soothing words the giant chief Assuaged the fury of her grief. Her weeping eyes she slowly dried And to her brother thus replied: "I sought thee in my shame and fear With severed nose and mangled ear: My gashes like a river bled, I sought thee and was comforted. Those twice seven giants, brave and strong, Thou sentest to avenge the wrong, To lay the savage Rama low, And Lakshman who misused me so. But ah, the shafts of Rama through The bodies of my champions flew: Though madly fierce their spears they plied, Beneath his conquering might they died. I saw them, famed for strength and speed, I saw my heroes fall and bleed: Great trembling seized my every limb At the great deed achieved by him. In trouble, horror, doubt, and dread, Again to thee for help I fled. While terror haunts my troubled sight, I seek thee, rover of the night. And canst thou not thy sister free From this wide waste of troublous sea Whose sharks are doubt and terror, where Each wreathing wave is dark despair? Low lie on earth thy giant train By ruthless Rama's arrows slain, And all the mighty demons, fed On blood, who followed me are dead. Now if within thy breast may be Pity for them and love for me, If thou, O rover of the night, Have valour and with him can fight, Subdue the giants' cruel foe Who dwells where Dandak's thickets grow. But if thine arm in vain assay This queller of his foes to slay, Now surely here before thine eyes, Wronged and ashamed thy sister dies. Too well, alas, too well I see That, strong in war as thou mayst be, Thou canst not in the battle stand When Rama meets thee hand to hand. Go forth, thou hero but in name, Assuming might thou canst not claim; Call friend and kin, no longer stay: Away from Janasthan, away! Shame of thy race! the weak alone Beneath thine arm may sink o'erthrown: Fly Rama and his brother: they Are men too strong for thee to slay. How canst thou hope, O weak and base, To make this grove thy dwelling-place?

That shout, which shook the land with fear, In thunder smote on Bali's ear, Where in the chamber barred and closed The sovereign with his dame reposed. Each amorous thought was rudely stilled, And pride and rage his bosom filled. His angry eyes flashed darkly red, And all his native brightness fled, As when, by swift eclipse assailed, The glory of the sun has failed. While in his fury uncontrolled He ground his teeth, his eyeballs rolled, He seemed a lake wherein no gem Of blossom decks the lotus stem. He heard, and with indignant pride Forth from the bower the Vanar hied. And the earth trembled at the beat And fury of his hastening feet. But Tara to her consort flew, Her loving arms around him threw, And trembling and bewildered, gave Wise counsel that might heal and save: "O dear my lord, this rage control That like a torrent floods thy soul, And cast these idle thoughts away Like faded wreath of yesterday, O tarry till the morning light, Then, if thou wilt, go forth and fight. Think not I doubt thy valour, no; Or deem thee weaker than thy foe, Yet for a while would have thee stay Nor see thee tempt the fight to-day. Now list, my loving lord, and learn The reason why I bid thee turn. Thy foeman came in wrath and pride, And thee to deadly fight defied. Thou wentest out: he fought, and fled Sore wounded and discomfited. But yet, untaught by late defeat, He comes his conquering foe to meet, And calls thee forth with cry and shout: Hence spring, my lord, this fear and doubt. A heart so bold that will not yield, But yearns to tempt the desperate field, Such loud defiance, fiercely pressed, On no uncertain hope can rest. So lately by thine arm o'erthrown, He comes not back, I ween, alone. Some mightier comrade guards his side, And spurs him to this burst of pride. For nature made the Vanar wise: On arms of might his hope relies; And never will Sugriva seek A friend whose power to save is weak. Now listen while my lips unfold The wondrous tale my Angad told.

"What fame, from one thou hast not slain In front of battle, canst thou gain, Whose secret hand has laid me low When madly fighting with my foe? From every tongue thy glory rings, A scion of a line of kings, True to thy vows, of noblest race, With every gentle gift and grace: Whose tender heart for woe can feel, And joy in every creature's weal: Whose breast with high ambition swells, Knows duty's claim and ne'er rebels. They praise thy valour, patience, ruth, Thy firmness, self-restraint, and truth: Thy hand prepared for sin's control, All virtues of a princely soul. I thought of all these gifts of thine, And glories of an ancient line, I set my Tara's tears at naught, I met Sugriva and we fought. O Rama, till this fatal morn I held that thou wouldst surely scorn To strike me as I fought my foe And thought not of a stranger's blow, But now thine evil heart is shown, A yawning well with grass o'ergrown. Thou wearest virtue's badge,(588) but guile And meanest sin thy soul defile. I took thee not for treacherous fire, A sinner clad in saint's attire; Nor deemed thou idly wouldst profess The show and garb of righteousness. In fenced town, in open land, Ne'er hast thou suffered at this hand, Nor canst of proud contempt complain: Then wherefore is the guiltless slain? My harmless life in woods I lead, On forest fruits and roots I feed. My foeman in the field I sought, And ne'er with thee, O Rama, fought. Upon thy limbs, O King, I see The raiment of a devotee; And how can one like thee, who springs From a proud line of ancient kings, Beneath fair virtue's mask, disgrace His lineage by a deed so base? From Raghu is thy long descent, For duteous deeds preeminent: Why, sinner clad in saintly dress, Roamest thou through the wilderness? Truth, valour, justice free from spot, The hand that gives and grudges not, The might that strikes the sinner down, These bring a prince his best renown. Here in the woods, O King, we live On roots and fruit which branches give.

So Bharat to his grandsire went Obedient to the message sent, And for his fond companion chose Satrughna slayer of his foes.(258) There Bharat for a time remained With love and honour entertained, King Asvapati's constant care, Beloved as a son and heir. Yet ever, as they lived at ease, While all around combined to please, The aged sire they left behind Was present to each hero's mind. Nor could the king's fond memory stray From his brave children far away, Dear Bharat and Satrughna dear, Each Varun's match or Indra's peer.

Satrughna thus to Bharat spake Who longed the forest road to take: "He who in woe was wont to give Strength to himself and all that live-- Dear Rama, true and pure in heart, Is banished by a woman's art. Yet here was Lakshman, brave and strong, Could not his might prevent the wrong? Could not his arm the king restrain, Or make the banished free again? One loving right and fearing crime Had checked the monarch's sin in time, When, vassal of a woman's will, His feet approached the path of ill."

"No words of mine wouldst thou regard, And now thy bed is cold and hard. Upon the rude rough ground o'erthrown, Beneath thee naught but sand and stone. To thee the earth is dearer far Than I and my caresses are, If thou upon her breast wilt lie, And to my words make no reply. Ah my beloved, good and brave, Bold to attack and strong to save, Fate is Sugriva's thrall, and we In him our lord and master see. Lo, by thy bed, a mournful band, Thy Vanar chiefs lamenting stand. O hear thy nobles' groans and cries, O mark thy Angad's weeping eyes, O list to my entreaties, break The chains of slumber and awake. Ah me, my lord, this lowly bed Where rest thy limbs and fallen head, Is the cold couch where smitten lay Thy foemen in the bloody fray. O noble heart from blemish free, Lover of war, beloved by me. Why hast thou fled away and left Thy Tara of all hope bereft? Unwise the father who allows His child to be a warrior's spouse, For, hero, see thy consort's fate, A widow now most desolate, For ever broken is my pride, My hope of lasting bliss has died, And sinking in the lowest deep Of sorrow's sea I pine and weep. Ah, surely not of earthly mould, This stony heart is stern and cold, Or, in a hundred pieces rent, It had not lingered to lament. Dead, dead! my husband, friend, and lord In whom my loving hopes were stored, First in the field, his foemen's dread, My own victorious Bali, dead! A woman when her lord has died, Though children flourish by her side, Though stores of gold her coffers fill, Is called a lonely widow still. Alas, thy bleeding gashes make Around thy limbs a purple lake: Thus slumbering was thy wont to lie On cushions bright with crimson dye. Dark streams of welling blood besmear Thy limbs where dust and mire adhere, Nor have I strength, weighed down by woe, Mine arms about thy form to throw. The issue of this day has brought Sugriva all his wishes sought, For Rama shot one shaft and he Is freed from fear and jeopardy.

They heard his gracious words, and then Spake reverent to the lord of men: "O Raghu's son, thou knowest well All things of heaven and earth and hell. 'Tis but thy friendship bids us speak The counsel Rama need not seek. So duteous, brave, and true art thou, Heroic, faithful to thy vow. Deep in the scriptures, trained and tried, Still in thy friends wilt thou confide. Let each of us in turn impart The secret counsel of his heart, And strive to win his chief's assent, By force of wisest argument."

"O see, the king who rules the race Of giants, cruel, fierce and base, Ravan the spoiler bears me hence The helpless prey of violence. This fiend who roves in midnight shade By thee, dear bird, can ne'er be stayed, For he is armed and fierce and strong Triumphant in the power to wrong. For thee remains one only task, To do, kind friend, the thing I ask. To Rama's ear by thee be borne How Sita from her home is torn, And to the valiant Lakshman tell The giant's deed and what befell."

Quick Guha hastened to produce, For the king's son, that sacred juice. Then Rama of his long locks made, And Lakshman's too, the hermit braid. And the two royal brothers there With coats of bark and matted hair, Transformed in lovely likeness stood To hermit saints who love the wood. So Rama, with his brother bold, A pious anchorite enrolled, Obeyed the vow which hermits take, And to his friend, King Guha, spake: "May people, treasure, army share, And fenced forts, thy constant care: Attend to all: supremely hard The sovereign's task, to watch and guard."

Thus as he spake by rage impelled, Red grew his eyes, his fierce lips swelled. His bark coat round his form he drew And coiled his hermit braids anew, Like Rudra when he yearned to slay The demon Tripur(509) in the fray. So looked the hero brave and wise, The fury flashing from his eyes. Then Rama, conqueror of the foe, From Lakshman's hand received his bow, Strained the great string, and laid thereon A deadly dart that flashed and shone, And spake these words as fierce in ire As He who ends the worlds with fire:

Then Raghu's son, the good and brave, With a gay laugh his answer gave: "These shafts of mine which ne'er can fail, Before whose sheen the sun grows pale, Winged by my fury, fleet and fierce, The wicked Bali's heart shall pierce. Yea, mark the words I speak, so long Shall live that wretch who joys in wrong, Until these angered eyes have seen The robber of thy darling queen. I, taught by equal suffering, know What waves of grief above thee flow. This hand thy captive wife shall free, And give thy kingdom back to thee."

Then came the vultures' mighty king Where sat the Vanars sorrowing,-- Sampati,(761) best of birds that fly On sounding pinions through the sky, Jatayus' brother, famed of old, Most glorious and strong and bold. Upon the slope of Vindhya's hill He saw the Vanars calm and still. These words he uttered while the sight Filled his fierce spirit with delight: "Behold how Fate with changeless laws Within his toils the sinner draws, And brings me, after long delay, A rich and noble feast to-day, These Vanars who are doomed to die My hungry maw to satisfy."

"What fool has dared, already dead, Strike Janasthan, the general dread? Who is the wretch shall vainly try In earth, heaven, hell, from me to fly? Vaisravan,(481) Indra, Vishnu, He Who rules the dead, must reverence me; For not the mightiest lord of these Can brave my will and live at ease. Fate finds in me a mightier fate To burn the fires that devastate. With unresisted influence I Can force e'en Death himself to die, With all-surpassing might restrain The fury of the hurricane, And burn in my tremendous ire The glory of the sun and fire."

With that reply and bold consent The giant king was well content. He strained Maricha to his breast And thus with joyful words addressed: "There spoke a hero dauntless still, Obedient to his master's will, Maricha's proper self once more: Some other took thy shape before. Come, mount my jewelled car that flies. Will-governed, through the yielding skies. These asses, goblin-faced, shall bear Us quickly through the fields of air. Attract the lady with thy shape, Then through the wood, at will, escape. And I, when she has no defence, Will seize the dame and bear her thence."

"Ikshvaku's sons from days of old Were ever brave and mighty-souled. The land their arms had made their own Was bounded by the sea alone. Their holy works have won them praise, Through countless years, from Manu's days. Their ancient sire was Sagar, he Whose high command dug out the sea:(61) With sixty thousand sons to throng Around him as he marched along. From them this glorious tale proceeds: The great Ramayan tells their deeds. This noble song whose lines contain Lessons of duty, love, and gain, We two will now at length recite, While good men listen with delight.

When Dushan saw his giant band Slaughtered by Rama's conquering hand, He called five thousand fiends, and gave His orders. Bravest of the brave, Invincible, of furious might, Ne'er had they turned their backs in flight. They, as their leader bade them seize Spears, swords, and clubs, and rocks, and trees, Poured on the dauntless prince again A ceaseless shower of deadly rain. The virtuous Rama, undismayed, Their missiles with his arrows stayed, And weakened, ere it fell, the shock Of that dire hail of tree and rock, And like a bull with eyelids closed, The pelting of the storm opposed.

"Let time and place thy thoughts employ: In woe be strong, be meek in joy. Accept both pain and pleasure, still Obedient to Sugriva's will. Thou hast, my darling, from the first With tender care been softly nursed; But harder days, if thou wouldst win Sugriva's love, must now begin. To those who hate him ne'er incline, Nor count his foe a friend of thine. In all thy thoughts his welfare seek, Obedient, lowly, faithful, meek. Let no rash suit his bosom pain, Nor yet from due requests abstain.(608) Each is a grievous fault, between The two is found the happy mean."

She heard: with faltering steps and slow, With eyes that shone with trembling glow, With gold-girt body gently bent To meet the stranger prince she went. When Lakshman saw the Vanar queen With tranquil eyes and modest mien, Before the dame he bent his head, And anger, at her presence, fled. Made bold by draughts of wine, and cheered By Lakshman's look no more she feared, And in the trust his favour lent She thus addressed him eloquent: "Whence springs thy burning fury? say: Who dares thy will to disobey? Who checks the maddened flames that seize On forests full of withered trees?"

"A stranger from the giant host, Borne o'er the sea, has reached the coast; A secret foe, he comes to slay, As owls attack their heedless prey. 'Tis thine, O King, in time of need To watch, to counsel, and to lead, Our Vanar legions to dispose, And guard us from our crafty foes. Vibhishan from the giants' isle, King Ravan's brother, comes with guile And, feigning from his king to flee, Seeks refuge, Raghu's son, with thee. Arise, O Rama, and prevent By bold attack his dark intent. Who comes in friendly guise prepared To slay thee by his arts ensnared."

Thus spoke the king in stern reproof; Then mounted to his palace roof Aloft o'er many a story raised, And on the lands beneath him gazed. There by his faithful spies he stood And looked on sea and hill and wood. There stretched before him far away The Vanars' numberless array: Scarce could the meadows' tender green Beneath their trampling feet be seen. He looked a while with furious eye, Then questioned thus the nearer spy: "Bend, Saran, bend thy gaze, and show The leaders of the Vanar foe. Tell me their heroes' names, and teach The valour, power and might of each."

The fearful notes of drum and shell Upon the ear of Ravan fell. One moment quailed his haughty look, One moment in his fear he shook, But soon recalling wonted pride, His counsellors he sternly eyed, And with a voice that thundered through The council hall began anew: "Lords, I have heard--your tongues have told-- How Raghu's son is fierce and bold. To Lanka's shore has bridged his way And hither leads his wild array. I know your might, in battle tried, Fighting and conquering by my side. Why now, when such a foe is near, Looks eye to eye in silent fear?"

King Dasaratha, thus addressed, With anger raging in his breast, Sank for a while beneath the pain, Then to Kaikeyi spoke again: "Childless so long, at length I won, With mighty toil, from Heaven a son, Rama, the mighty-armed; and how Shall I desert my darling now? A scholar wise, a hero bold, Of patient mood, with wrath controlled, How can I bid my Rama fly, My darling of the lotus eye? In heaven itself I scarce could bear, When asking of my Rama there, To hear the Gods his griefs declare, And O, that death would take me hence Before I wrong his innocence!"

He spoke. With tears his eyes grew dim, His senses all deserted him. He cried, O Rama, once, then weak And fainting could no further speak. Unconscious there he lay: at length Regathering his sense and strength, While his full eyes their torrents shed, To wise Sumantra thus he said: "Yoke the light car, and hither lead Fleet coursers of the noblest breed, And drive this heir of lofty fate Beyond the limit of the state. This seems the fruit that virtues bear, The meed of worth which texts declare-- The sending of the brave and good By sire and mother to the wood.'"

To Rama, bravest of the brave, His answer thus Viradha gave: "Hear, Raghu's son, and mark me well, And I my name and race will tell. Of Satahrada born, I spring From Java as my sire, O King: Me, of this lofty lineage, all Giants on earth Viradha call. The rites austere I long maintained From Brahma's grace the boon have gained To bear a charmed frame which ne'er Weapon or shaft may pierce or tear. Go as ye came, untouched by fear, And leave with me this woman here: Go, swiftly from my presence fly, Or by this hand ye both shall die."

"Dismiss, dismiss thine idle fear, Nor dread the power of Bali here. For this is Malaya's glorious hill(539) Where Bali's might can work no ill. I look around but nowhere see The hated foe who made thee flee, Fell Bali, fierce in form and face: Then fear not, lord of Vanar race. Alas, in thee I clearly find The weakness of the Vanar kind, That loves from thought to thought to range, Fix no belief and welcome change. Mark well each hint and sign and scan, Discreet and wise, thine every plan. How may a king, with sense denied, The subjects of his sceptre guide?"

With suppliant palm to palm applied King Janak to the strangers cried: "This gem of bows, O Brahman Sage, Our race has prized from age to age, Too strong for those who yet have reigned, Though great in might each nerve they strained. Titan and fiend its strength defies, God, spirit, minstrel of the skies. And bard above and snake below Are baffled by this glorious bow. Then how may human prowess hope With such a bow as this to cope? What man with valour's choicest gift This bow can draw, or string, or lift? Yet let the princes, holy Seer, Behold it: it is present here."

Then Rama, as his brother prayed Beneath his feet the sandals laid, And these with fond affection gave To Bharat's hand, the good and brave. Then Bharat bowed his reverent head And thus again to Rama said: "Through fourteen seasons will I wear The hermit's dress and matted hair: With fruit and roots my life sustain, And still beyond the realm remain, Longing for thee to come again. The rule and all affairs of state I to these shoes will delegate. And if, O tamer of thy foes, When fourteen years have reached their close, I see thee not that day return, The kindled fire my frame shall burn."

Sugriva heard the timely rede That roused him in the day of need, And thus to Nila prompt and brave His hest the imperial Vanar gave: "Go, Nila, to the distant hosts That keep in arms their several posts, And all the armies that protect The quarters,(631) with their chiefs, collect. To all the luminaries placed In intermediate regions haste, And bid each captain rise and lead His squadrons to their king with speed. Do thou meanwhile with strictest care All that the time requires prepare. The loitering Vanar who delays To gather here ere thrice five days, Shall surely die for his offence, Condemned for sinful negligence."

High on the royal car, that glowed With glory from his face, he rode; And tambour shell and drum pealed out, And joyful was each giant's shout. A mighty host, with eyeballs red Like flames of kindled fire, he led. He passed the city gate, and viewed, Arrayed, the Vanar multitude, Those wielding massy rocks, and these Armed with the stems of uptorn trees, And Rama with his eyes aglow With warlike ardour viewed the foe, And thus the brave Vibhishan, best Of weapon-wielding chiefs, addressed: "What captain leads this bright array Where lances gleam and banners play, And thousands armed with spear and sword Await the bidding of their lord?"

Thus Rama spake. Vibhishan eyed The giants' chief, and thus replied: "This Rama, this is Ravan's son: High fame his youthful might has won. He, best of warriors, bows his ear The wisdom of the wise to hear. Supreme is he mid those who know The mastery of sword and bow. Unrivalled in the bold attack On elephant's or courser's back, He knows, beside, each subtler art, To win the foe, to bribe, or part. On him the giant hosts rely, And fear no ill when he is nigh. This peerless chieftain bears the name Of Atikaya huge of frame, Whom Dhanyamalini of yore To Ravan lord of Lanka bore."

She saw the ruthless monster there, Dread of the worlds, unused to spare. In robes of heavenly texture dressed, Celestial wreaths adorned his breast. He sat a shape of terror, like Destruction ere the worlds it strike. She saw him in his pride of place, The joy of old Pulastya's(487) race, Begirt by counsellor and peer, Ravan, the foeman's mortal fear, And terror in her features shown, The giantess approached the throne. Then Surpanakha bearing yet Each deeply printed trace Where the great-hearted chief had set A mark upon her face, Impelled by terror and desire, Still fierce, no longer bold, To Ravan of the eyes of fire Her tale, infuriate, told.

When Rama heard that special hest To Hanuman above the rest, He from the monarch's favour drew Hope of success and trust anew That he on whom his lord relied, In toil and peril trained and tried, Would to a happy issue bring The task commanded by the king. He gave the ring that bore his name, A token for the captive dame, That the sad lady in her woe The missive of her lord might know. "This ring," he said, "my wife will see, Nor fear an envoy sent by me. Thy valour and thy skill combined, Thy resolute and vigorous mind, And King Sugriva's high behest, With joyful hopes inspire my breast."

She ceased, and Hanuman replied, By shape and threat unterrified: "Brave Rama with his Maithil spouse Lodged in the shade of Dandak's boughs, Thence Ravan king of giants stole Sita the joy of Rama's soul. By Rama's high behest to her I go a willing messenger; And never shouldst them hinder one Who toils for Dasaratha's son. First captive Sita will I see, And him who sent and waits for me, Then come and to thy will submit, Yea, by my truth I promise it." "Nay, hope not thus thy life to save; Not such the boon that Brahma gave. Enter my mouth," was her reply, "Then forward on thy journey hie!"(796)

When mutual courtesies had past, Visala's ruler spoke at last: "These princely youths, O Sage, who vie In might with children of the sky, Heroic, born for happy fate, With elephants' or lions' gait, Bold as the tiger or the bull, With lotus eyes so large and full, Armed with the quiver, sword, and bow, Whose figures like the Asvins(216) show, Like children of the deathless Powers, Come freely to these shades of ours,(217)-- How have they reached on foot this place? What do they seek, and what their race? As sun and moon adorn the sky, This spot the heroes glorify. Alike in stature, port, and mien, The same fair form in each is seen,"

While Gods and saints in close array Held converse of the coming fray, The army of the fiends drew near With sight and sound that counselled fear. Long, loud and deep their war-cry pealed, As on they rushed with flag and shield, Each, of his proper valour proud, Urging to fight the demon crowd. His ponderous bow each warrior tried, And swelled his bulk with martial pride. 'Mid shout and roar and trampling feet, And thunder of the drums they beat, Loud and more loud the tumult went Throughout the forest's vast extent, And all the life that moved within The woodland trembled at the din. In eager haste all fled to find Some tranquil spot, nor looked behind.

Fair as the lord of silvery rays Whom every star in heaven obeys, The Maithil dame her plaint renewed O'er him by Ravan's might subdued: "Dreams, omens, auguries foreshow Our coming lot of weal and woe: But thou, my Rama, couldst not see The grievous blow which falls on thee. The birds and deer desert the brakes And show the path my captor takes, And thus e'en now this royal bird Flew to mine aid by pity stirred. Slain for my sake in death he lies, The broad-winged rover of the skies. O Rama, haste, thine aid I crave: O Lakshman, why delay to save? Brave sons of old Ikshvaku, hear And rescue in this hour of fear."

"Lord of the mighty arm, of yore A shape transcending thought I wore, And through the triple world's extent My fame for might and valour went. Scarce might the sun and moon on high, Scarce Sakra, with my beauty vie. Then for a time this form I took, And the great world with trembling shook. The saints in forest shades who dwelt The terror of my presence felt. But once I stirred to furious rage Great Sthulasiras, glorious sage. Culling in woods his hermit food My hideous shape with fear he viewed. Then forth his words of anger burst That bade me live a thing accursed: "Thou, whose delight is others' pain, This grisly form shalt still retain."

Thus Rama spoke, and Lakshman then Made answer to the prince of men: "Yea, if the Vanar, undeterred By fear of vengeance, break his word, Loss of his royal power ere long Shall pay the traitor for the wrong. Nor deem I him so void of sense To brave the bitter consequence. But if enslaved to joy he lie, And scorn thy grace with blinded eye, Then let him join his brother slain: Unmeet were such a wretch to reign. Quick rises, kindling in my breast, The wrath that will not be repressed, And bids me in my fury slay The breaker of his faith to-day. Let Bali's son thy consort trace With bravest chiefs of Vanar race."

The Vanar chiefs whose piercing eyes Scanned eagerly the earth and skies, Saw the brave brothers wounded sore Transfixed with darts and stained with gore. The monarch of the Vanar race, With wise Vibhishan, reached the place; Angad and Nila came behind, And others of the forest kind, And standing with Hanuman there Lamented for the fallen pair. Their melancholy eyes they raised; In fruitless search a while they gazed. But magic arts Vibhishan knew; Not hidden from his keener view, Though veiled by magic from the rest, The son of Ravan stood confessed. Fierce Indrajit with savage pride The fallen sons of Raghu eyed, And every giant heart was proud As thus the warrior cried aloud:

Loving his friends with heart and soul, The joyful prince received the whole, Due honour to the envoys paid, And thus in turn his answer made: "Of Dasaratha tidings tell: Is the old king my father well? Is Rama, and is Lakshman, he Of the high-soul, from sickness free? And she who walks where duty leads, Kausalya, known for gracious deeds, Mother of Rama, loving spouse, Bound to her lord by well kept vows? And Lakshman's mother too, the dame Sumitra skilled in duty's claim, Who brave Satrughna also bare, Second in age,--her health declare. And she, in self-conceit most sage, With selfish heart most prone to rage, My mother, fares she well? has she Sent message or command to me?"

The wives he left had both conceived-- So is the ancient tale believed:-- One, of her rival's hopes afraid, Fell poison in the viands laid. It chanced that Chyavan, Bhrigu's child, Had wandered to the pathless wild Where proud Himalaya's lovely height Detained him with a strange delight. Then came the other widowed queen With lotus eyes and beauteous mien, Longing a noble son to bear, And wooed the saint with earnest prayer. When thus Kalindi, fairest dame With reverent supplication came, To her the holy sage replied: "O royal lady, from thy side A glorious son shall spring ere long, Righteous and true and brave and strong; He, scourge of foes and lofty-souled, His ancient race shall still uphold."

Thus twice seven thousand fiends, a band With impious heart and bloody hand, By Raghu's son were overthrown, A man, on foot, and all alone. Of all who met on that fierce day, Khara, great chief, survived the fray, The monster of the triple head,(470) And Raghu's son, the foeman's dread. The other demon warriors, all Skilful and brave and strong and tall, In front of battle, side by side, Struck down by Lakshman's brother died. When Khara saw the host he led Triumphant forth to fight Stretched on the earth, all smitten dead, By Rama's nobler might, Upon his foe he fiercely glared, And drove against him fast, Like Indra when his arm is bared His thundering bolt to cast.

But special counselling he gave To Hanuman the wise and brave: To him on whom his soul relied, With friendly words the monarch cried: "O best of Vanars, naught can stay By land or sea thy rapid way, Who through the air thy flight canst bend, And to the Immortals' home ascend. All realms, I ween, are known to thee With every mountain, lake, and sea. In strength and speed which naught can tire Thou, worthy rival of thy sire The mighty monarch of the wind, Where'er thou wilt a way canst find. Exert thy power, O swift and strong, Bring back the lady lost so long, For time and place, O thou most wise, Lie open to thy searching eyes."

Again the Vanar chief replied, With her wise answer satisfied: "Well hast thou said: thou canst not brave The rushing wind, the roaring wave. Thy woman's heart would sink with fear Before the ocean shore were near. And for thy dread lest limb of thine Should for a while be touched by mine, The modest fear is worthy one Whose cherished lord is Raghu's son. Yet when I sought to bear thee hence I spoke the words of innocence, Impelled to set the captive free By friendship for thy lord and thee. But if with me thou wilt not try The passage of the windy sky, Give me a gem that I may show, Some token which thy lord may know."

"O Prince, the Self-existent gave This boon to Ravan; he may brave All foes in fight; no fiend or snake, Gandharva, God, his life may take. His brother Kumbhakarna vies In might with him who rules the skies. The captain of his armies--fame Perhaps has taught the warrior's name-- Is terrible Prahasta, who King Manibhadra's(930) self o'erthrew. Where is the warrior found to face Young Indrajit, when armed with brace And guard(931) and bow he stands in mail And laughs at spear and arrowy hail? Within his city Lanka dwell Ten million giants fierce and fell, Who wear each varied shape at will And eat the flesh of those they kill. These hosts against the Gods he led, And heavenly might discomfited."

Obedient to the high-souled lord Grasped Ansuman his bow and sword, And hurried forth the way to trace With youth and valour's eager pace. On sped he by the path he found Dug by his uncles underground. The warder elephant he saw Whose size and strength pass Nature's law, Who bears the world's tremendous weight, Whom God, fiend, giant venerate, Bird, serpent, and each flitting shade, To him the honour meet he paid With circling steps and greeting due, And further prayed him, if he knew, To tell him of his uncles' weal, And who had dared the horse to steal. To him in war and council tried The warder elephant replied: "Thou, son of Asamanj, shalt lead In triumph back the rescued steed."

"Fair Queen," he said, "our task is done: The foe is slain and Lanka won. Triumphant mid triumphant friends Kind words of greeting Rama sends. "Blest for thy sake, O spouse most true, My deadly foe I met and slew. Mine eyes are strangers yet to sleep: I built a bridge athwart the deep And crossed the sea to Lanka's shore To keep the mighty oath I swore. Now, gentle love, thy cares dispel, And weep no more, for all is well. Fear not in Ravan's house to stay For good Vibhishan now bears sway, For constant truth and friendship known Regard his palace as thine own." He greets thee thus thy heart to cheer, And urged by love will soon be here."

Prince Ansuman the strong and brave Followed the rede Suparna(193) gave. The glorious hero took the horse, And homeward quickly bent his course. Straight to the anxious king he hied, Whom lustral rites had purified, The mournful story to unfold And all the king of birds had told. The tale of woe the monarch heard, Nor longer was the rite deferred: With care and just observance he Accomplished all, as texts decree. The rites performed, with brighter fame, Mighty in counsel, home he came. He longed to bring the river down, But found no plan his wish to crown. He pondered long with anxious thought But saw no way to what he sought. Thus thirty thousand years he spent, And then to heaven the monarch went.

Sumantra, when, with grieving heart, He heard the hero bid him part, Thus to the bravest of the brave, Ikshvaku's son, his answer gave: "In all the world men tell of naught, To match thy deed, by heroes wrought-- Thus with thy brother and thy wife Thrall-like to lead a forest life. No meet reward of fruit repays Thy holy lore, thy saintlike days, Thy tender soul, thy love of truth, If woe like this afflicts thy youth. Thou, roaming under forest boughs With thy dear brother and thy spouse Shalt richer meed of glory gain Than if three worlds confessed thy reign. Sad is our fate, O Rama: we, Abandoned and repelled by thee, Must serve as thralls Kaikeyi's will, Imperious, wicked, born to ill."

The son of Raghu heard: he knew His brother's rede was wise and true; And, honouring his friendly guide, In gentle words he thus replied: "Whate'er a hero firm and bold, Devoted, true, and lofty-souled Should speak by deep affection led, Such are the words which thou hast said. I cast away each pensive thought That brings the noblest plans to naught, And each uninjured power will strain Until the purposed end we gain. Thy prudent words will I obey, And till the close of rain-time stay, When King Sugriva will invite To action, and the streams be bright. The hero saved in hour of need Repays the debt with friendly deed: But hated by the good are they Who take the boon and ne'er repay."

With looks that testified delight Thus spake he to the anchorite, Then with his suppliant hands upraised, He asked, as earnestly he gazed: "These princely youths, O Sage, who vie In might with children of the sky, Heroic, born for happy fate, With elephants' or lions' gait, Bold as the tiger and the bull, With lotus eyes so large and full, Armed with the quiver, sword and bow, Whose figures like the Asvins show, Like children of the heavenly Powers, Come freely to these shades of ours,-- How have they reached on foot this place? What do they seek, and what their race? As sun and moon adorn the sky, This spot the heroes glorify: Alike in stature, port, and mien, The same fair form in each is seen."(219)

"Such blessings as the Gods o'erjoyed Poured forth, when Vritra(300) was destroyed, On Indra of the thousand eyes, Attend, my child, thine enterprise! Yea, such as Vinata once gave To King Suparna(301) swift and brave, Who sought the drink that cheers the skies, Attend, my child, thine enterprise! Yea, such as, when the Amrit rose,(302) And Indra slew his Daitya foes, The royal Aditi bestowed On Him whose hand with slaughter glowed Of that dire brood of monstrous size, Attend, my child, thine enterprise! E'en such as peerless Vishnu graced, When with his triple step he paced, Outbursting from the dwarf's disguise,(303) Attend, my child, thine enterprise! Floods, isles, and seasons as they fly, Worlds, Vedas, quarters of the sky, Combine, O mighty-armed, to bless Thee destined heir of happiness!"

To thee, fair Queen, my head shall bend, To thee shall hymns of praise ascend, When my brave lord shall turn again, And, joyful, o'er his kingdom reign. To win thy grace, O Queen divine, A hundred thousand fairest kine, And precious robes and finest meal Among the Brahmans will I deal. A hundred jars of wine shall flow, When to my home, O Queen, I go; With these, and flesh, and corn, and rice, Will I, delighted, sacrifice. Each hallowed spot, each holy shrine That stands on these fair shores of thine, Each fane and altar on thy banks Shall share my offerings and thanks. With me and Lakshman, free from harm, May he the blameless, strong of arm, Reseek Ayodhya from the wild, O blameless Lady undefiled!"

But now my search must I pursue Until the Maithil queen I view: And, when I find the captive dame, Make victory mine only aim. But, if I wear my present shape, How shall I enter and escape The Rakshas troops, their guards and spies, And sleepless watch of cruel eyes? The fiends of giant race who hold This mighty town are strong and bold; And I must labour to elude The fiercely watchful multitude. I in a shape to mock their sight Must steal within the town by night, Blind with my art the demons' eyes, And thus achieve my enterprise. How may I see, myself unseen Of the fierce king, the captive queen, And meet her in some lonely place, With none beside her, face to face?"

He ceased: the Vanar made reply; "Not Indra's messenger am I, Nor came I hither to fulfil Kuvera's hest or Vishnu's will. I stand before the giants here A Vanar e'en as I appear. I longed to see the king: 'twas hard To win my way through gate and guard. And so to gain my wish I laid In ruin that delightful shade. No fiend, no God of heavenly kind With bond or chain these limbs may bind. The Eternal Sire himself of old Vouchsafed the boon that makes me bold, From Brahma's magic shaft released(884) I knew the captor's power had ceased, The fancied bonds I freely brooked, And thus upon the king have looked. My way to Lanka have I won, A messenger from Raghu's son."

Brave Rama, burning still to know The station of his artful foe, Gave to ten chieftains, mid the best Of all the host, his high behest. Swift rose in air the Vanar band: Each region of the sky they scanned: But Ravan's son by magic skill Checked them with arrows swifter still, When streams of blood from chest and side The dauntless Vanars' limbs had dyed, The giant in his misty shroud Showed like the sun obscured by cloud. Like serpents hissing through the air, His arrows smote the princely pair; And from their limbs at every rent A stream of rushing blood was sent. Like Kinsuk trees they stood, that show In spring their blossoms' crimson glow. Then Indrajit with fury eyed Ikshvaku's royal sons, and cried: