Ramayana on Fear

"Is this a speech our king should hear, This counsel of ignoble fear? A scion of our glorious race Should ne'er conceive a thought so base, But one mid all our kin we find, Vibhishan, whose degenerate mind No spark of gallant pride retains, Whose coward soul his lineage stains. Against one giant what can two Unhappy sons of Raghu do? Away with idle fears, away! Matched with our meanest, what are they? Beneath my conquering prowess fell The Lord of earth and heaven and hell.(924) Through every startled region dread Of my resistless fury spread; And Gods in each remotest sphere Confessed the universal fear. Rending the air with roar and groan, Airavat(925) to the earth was thrown. From his huge head the tusks I drew, And smote the Gods with fear anew. Shall I who tame celestials' pride, By whom the fiends are terrified, Now prove a weakling little worth, And fail to slay those sons of earth?"

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.

The royal brothers heard with dread The words which fierce Kabandha said. And Rama to his brother cried, Whose cheek by blanching fear was dried:

Thus Bali spoke in words severe; And then, unmoved by ruth or fear, Left me a single robe and sent His brother forth in banishment. He cast me out with scathe and scorn, And from my side my wife was torn. Now in great fear and ill at ease I roam this land with woods and seas, Or dwell on Rishyamuka's hill, And sorrow for my consort still. Thou hast the tale how first arose This bitter hate of brother foes. Such are the griefs neath which I pine, And all without a fault of mine. O swift to save in hour of fear, My prayer who dread this Bali, hear With gracious love assistance deign, And mine oppressor's arm restrain."

Sugriva moved by wondering awe The high-souled sons of Raghu saw, In all their glorious arms arrayed; And grief upon his spirit weighed. To every quarter of the sky He turned in fear his anxious eye, And roving still from spot to spot With troubled steps he rested not. He durst not, as he viewed the pair, Resolve to stand and meet them there; And drooping cheer and quailing breast The terror of the chief confessed. While the great fear his bosom shook, Brief counsel with his lords he took; Each gain and danger closely scanned, What hope in flight, what power to stand, While doubt and fear his bosom rent, On Raghu's sons his eyes he bent, And with a spirit ill at ease Addressed his lords in words like these:

Then Tara softly spake to cheer The Vanars' hearts oppressed by fear: "Despair no more, your doubts dispel: Come in this ample cavern dwell. There may we live in blissful ease Mid springs and fruit and bloomy trees, Secure from every foe's assault, For magic framed the wondrous vault. Protected there we need not fear Though Rama and our king come near; Nor dread e'en him who batters down The portals of the foeman's town."(756)

"A great emprise, O lovely maid, To save the Gods, awaits thine aid: To bind the son of Kusik sure, And take his soul with love's sweet lure." Thus order'd by the Thousand-eyed The suppliant nymph in fear replied: "O Lord of Gods, this mighty sage Is very fierce and swift to rage. I doubt not, he so dread and stern On me his scorching wrath will turn. Of this, my lord, am I afraid: Have mercy on a timid maid." Her suppliant hands began to shake, When thus again Lord Indra spake: "O Rambha, drive thy fears away, And as I bid do thou obey. In Koil's form, who takes the heart When trees in spring to blossom start, I, with Kandarpa for my friend, Close to thy side mine aid will lend. Do thou thy beauteous splendour arm With every grace and winsome charm, And from his awful rites seduce This Kusik's son, the stern recluse."

Each lord beheld with troubled heart Those masters of the bowman's art, And left the mountain side to seek Sure refuge on a loftier peak. The Vanar chief in rapid flight Found shelter on a towering height, And all the band with one accord Were closely gathered round their lord. Their course the same, with desperate leap Each made his way from steep to steep, And speeding on in wild career Filled every height with sudden fear. Each heart was struck with mortal dread, As on their course the Vanars sped, While trees that crowned the steep were bent And crushed beneath them as they went. As in their eager flight they pressed For safety to each mountain crest, The wild confusion struck with fear Tiger and cat and wandering deer. The lords who watched Sugriva's will Were gathered on the royal hill, And all with reverent hands upraised Upon their king and leader gazed. Sugriva feared some evil planned, Some train prepared by Bali's hand. But, skilled in words that charm and teach, Thus Hanuman(538) began his speech:

The cries of startled birds, the sound Of tall trees crashing to the ground, Struck with amaze each giant's ear, And filled the isle with sudden fear. Then, wakened by the crash and cries, The fierce shefiends unclosed their eyes, And saw the Vanar where he stood Amid the devastated wood. The more to scare them with the view To size immense the Vanar grew; And straight the Rakshas warders cried Janak's daughter terrified "Whose envoy, whence, and who is he, Why has he come to talk with thee? Speak, lady of the lovely eyes, And let not fear thy joy disguise."

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?"

"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?"

He spoke. Sugriva raised a cry That shook and rent the echoing sky, A shout so fierce and loud and dread That stately bulls in terror fled, Like dames who fly from threatened stain In some ignoble monarch's reign. The deer in wild confusion ran Like horses turned in battle's van. Down fell the birds, like Gods who fall When merits fail,(578) at that dread call. So fiercely, boldened for the fray, The offspring of the Lord of Day Sent forth his furious shout as loud As thunder from a labouring cloud, Or, where the gale blows fresh and free, The roaring of the troubled sea.

Viradha with a fearful shout That echoed through the wood, cried out:

Soon as he heard, the mighty saint Thus answered Dasaratha's plaint In sweetest tone: "Now, Monarch, mark, And learn from me the meaning dark. The voices of the birds of air Great peril to the host declare: The moving beasts the dread allay, So drive thy whelming fear away,"

He ceased: they scorned, with blinded eyes, The foeman and his bold allies, Raised reverent hands with one accord, And thus made answer to their lord: "Why yield thee, King, to causeless fear? A mighty host with sword and spear And mace and axe and pike and lance Waits but thy signal to advance. Art thou not he who slew of old The Serpent-Gods, and stormed their hold; Scaled Mount Kailasa and o'erthrew Kuvera(910) and his Yaksha crew, Compelling Siva's haughty friend Beneath a mightier arm to bend? Didst thou not bring from realms afar The marvel of the magic car, When they who served Kuvera fell Crushed in their mountain citadel? Attracted by thy matchless fame To thee, a suppliant, Maya came, The lord of every Danav band, And won thee with his daughter's hand. Thy arm in hell itself was felt, Where Vasuki(911) and Sankha dwelt, And they and Takshak, overthrown, Were forced thy conquering might to own. The Gods in vain their blessing gave To heroes bravest of the brave, Who strove a year and, sorely pressed, Their victor's peerless might confessed. In vain their magic arts they tried, In vain thy matchless arm defied King Varun's sons with fourfold force, Cars, elephants, and foot, and horse, But for a while thy power withstood, And, conquered, mourned their hardihood. Thou hast encountered, face to face, King Yama(912) with his murdering mace. Fierce as the wild tempestuous sea, What terror had his wrath for thee, Though death in every threatening form, And woe and torment, urged the storm? Thine arm a glorious victory won O'er the dread king who pities none; And the three worlds, from terror freed, In joyful wonder praised thy deed. The tribe of Warriors, strong and dread As Indra's self, o'er earth had spread; As giant trees that towering stand In mountain glens, they filled the land. Can Raghu's son encounter foes Fierce, numerous, and strong as those?

They led her to that garden where The sweetest flowers perfumed the air, Where bright trees bore each rarest fruit, And birds, enamoured, ne'er were mute. Bowed down with terror and distress, Watched by each cruel giantess,-- Like a poor solitary deer When ravening tigresses are near,-- The hapless lady lay distraught Like some wild thing but newly caught, And found no solace, no relief From agonizing fear and grief; Not for one moment could forget Each terrifying word and threat, Or the fierce eyes upon her set By those who watched around. She thought of Rama far away, She mourned for Lakshman as she lay In grief and terror and dismay Half fainting on the ground.

Dark as a cloud of autumn, dread Prahasta joined his palms and said:

Dost thou not dread, so soft and fair, Tiger and lion, wolf and bear? Hast thou, O beauteous dame, no fear In the wild wood so lone and drear? Whose and who art thou? whence and why Sweet lady, with no guardian nigh, Dost thou this awful forest tread By giant bands inhabited?"

With sundered bow and shattered shield Headless they sank upon the field, As the tall trees, that felt the blast Of Garud's wing, to earth were cast. The giants left unslaughtered there Where filled with terror and despair, And to their leader Khara fled Faint, wounded, and discomfited. These fiery Dushan strove to cheer, And poised his bow to calm their fear; Then fierce as He who rules the dead, When wroth, on angered Rama sped. By Dushan cheered, the demons cast Their dread aside and rallied fast With Sals, rocks, palm-trees in their hands With nooses, maces, pikes, and brands, Again upon the godlike man The mighty fiends infuriate ran, These casting rocks like hail, and these A whelming shower of leafy trees. Wild, wondrous fight, the eye to scare, And raise on end each shuddering hair, As with the fiends who loved to rove By night heroic Rama strove! The giants in their fury plied Rama with darts on every side. Then, by the gathering demons pressed From north and south and east and west, By showers of deadly darts assailed From every quarter fiercely hailed, Girt by the foes who swarmed around, He raised a mighty shout whose sound Struck terror. On the giant crew His great Gandharva(468) arrow flew. A thousand mortal shafts were rained From the orbed bow the hero strained, Till east and west and south and north Were filled with arrows volleyed forth. They heard the fearful shout: they saw His mighty hand the bowstring draw, Yet could no wounded giant's eye See the swift storm of arrows fly. Still firm the warrior stood and cast His deadly missiles thick and fast. Dark grew the air with arrowy hail Which hid the sun as with a veil. Fiends wounded, falling, fallen, slain, All in a moment, spread the plain, And thousands scarce alive were left Mangled, and gashed, and torn, and cleft. Dire was the sight, the plain o'erspread With trophies of the mangled dead.

Then Gadhi's son in fury threw Lord Varun's arm and Rudra's too: Indra's fierce bolt that all destroys; That which the Lord of Herds employs: The Human, that which minstrels keep, The deadly Lure, the endless Sleep: The Yawner, and the dart which charms; Lament and Torture, fearful arms: The Terrible, the dart which dries, The Thunderbolt which quenchless flies, And Fate's dread net, and Brahma's noose, And that which waits for Varun's use: The dart he loves who wields the bow Pinaka, and twin bolts that glow With fury as they flash and fly, The quenchless Liquid and the Dry: The dart of Vengeance, swift to kill: The Goblins' dart, the Curlew's Bill: The discus both of Fate and Right, And Vishnu's, of unerring flight: The Wind-God's dart, the Troubler dread, The weapon named the Horse's Head. From his fierce hand two spears were thrown, And the great mace that smashes bone; The dart of spirits of the air, And that which Fate exults to bear: The Trident dart which slaughters foes, And that which hanging skulls compose:(233) These fearful darts in fiery rain He hurled upon the saint amain, An awful miracle to view. But as the ceaseless tempest flew, The sage with wand of God-sent power Still swallowed up that fiery shower.

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."

When every rite was duly paid The princely brothers onward strayed, And eager in the lady's quest They turned their footsteps to the west. Through lonely woods that round them lay Ikshvaku's children made their way, And armed with bow and shaft and brand Pressed onward to the southern land. Thick trees and shrubs and creepers grew In the wild grove they hurried through. 'Twas dark and drear and hard to pass For tangled thorns and matted grass. Still onward with a southern course They made their way with vigorous force, And passing through the mazes stood Beyond that vast and fearful wood. With toil and hardship yet unspent Three leagues from Janasthan they went, And speeding on their way at last Within the wood of Krauncha(515) passed: A fearful forest wild and black As some huge pile of cloudy rack, Filled with all birds and beasts, where grew Bright blooms of every varied hue. On Sita bending every thought Through all the mighty wood they sought, And at the lady's loss dismayed Here for a while and there they stayed. Then turning farther eastward they Pursued three leagues their weary way, Passed Krauncha's wood and reached the grove Where elephants rejoiced to rove. The chiefs that awful wood surveyed Where deer and wild birds filled each glade, Where scarce a step the foot could take For tangled shrub and tree and brake. There in a mountain's woody side A cave the royal brothers spied, With dread abysses deep as hell, Where darkness never ceased to dwell. When, pressing on, the lords of men Stood near the entrance of the den, They saw within the dark recess A huge misshapen giantess; A thing the timid heart that shook With fearful shape and savage look. Terrific fiend, her voice was fierce, Long were her teeth to rend and pierce. The monster gorged her horrid feast Of flesh of many a savage beast, While her long locks, at random flung, Dishevelled o'er her shoulders hung. Their eyes the royal brothers raised, And on the fearful monster gazed.

So Rama kept unshaken still His noble heart with iron will. To his dear brother next he turned, Whose glaring eyes with fury burned, Indignant, panting like a snake, And thus again his counsel spake: "Thine anger and thy grief restrain, And firm in duty's path remain. Dear brother, lay thy scorn aside, And be the right thy joy and pride. Thy ready zeal and thoughtful care To aid what rites should grace the heir,-- These 'tis another's now to ask; Come, gird thee for thy noble task, That Bharat's throning rites may he Graced with the things prepared for me. And with thy gentle care provide That her fond heart, now sorely tried With fear and longing for my sake, With doubt and dread may never ache. To know that thoughts of coming ill One hour that tender bosom fill With agony and dark despair Is grief too great for me to bear. I cannot, brother, call to mind One wilful fault or undesigned, When I have pained in anything My mothers or my sire the king. The right my father keeps in view, In promise, word, and action true; Let him then all his fear dismiss, Nor dread the loss of future bliss. He fears his truth herein will fail: Hence bitter thoughts his heart assail. He trembles lest the rites proceed, And at his pangs my heart should bleed. So now this earnest wish is mine, The consecration to resign, And from this city turn away To the wild wood with no delay. My banishment to-day will free Kaikeyi from her cares, that she, At last contented and elate, May Bharat's throning celebrate. Then will the lady's trouble cease, Then will her heart have joy and peace, When wandering in the wood I wear Deerskin, and bark, and matted hair. Nor shall by me his heart be grieved Whose choice approved, whose mind conceived This counsel which I follow. No, Forth to the forest will I go. 'Tis Fate, Sumitras son, confess, That sends me to the wilderness. 'Tis Fate alone that gives away To other hands the royal sway.

He heard, and thus his answer made: "O, be not troubled, nor afraid, But trust, and thou shalt know ere long My love has done thee, sweet, no wrong, So strong and brave and wise shall be The glorious child I give to thee. Might shall be his that naught can tire, And limbs to spring as springs his sire." Thus spoke the God; the conquered dame Rejoiced in heart nor feared the shame. Down in a cave beneath the earth The happy mother gave thee birth. Once o'er the summit of the wood Before thine eyes the new sun stood. Thou sprangest up in haste to seize What seemed the fruitage of the trees. Up leapt the child, a wondrous bound, Three hundred leagues above the ground, And, though the angered Day-God shot His fierce beams on him, feared him not. Then from the hand of Indra came A red bolt winged with wrath and flame. The child fell smitten on a rock, His cheek was shattered by the shock, Named Hanuman(783) thenceforth by all In memory of the fearful fall. The wandering Wind-God saw thee lie With bleeding cheek and drooping eye, And stirred to anger by thy woe Forbade each scented breeze to blow. The breath of all the worlds was stilled, And the sad Gods with terror filled Prayed to the Wind, to calm the ire And soothe the sorrow of the sire. His fiery wrath no longer glowed, And Brahma's self the boon bestowed That in the brunt of battle none Should slay with steel the Wind-God's son. Lord Indra, sovereign of the skies, Bent on thee all his thousand eyes, And swore that ne'er the bolt which he Hurls from the heaven should injure thee. 'Tis thine, O mighty chief, to share The Wind-God's power, his son and heir. Sprung from that glorious father thou, And thou alone, canst aid us now. This earth of yore, through all her climes, I circled one-and-twenty times, And gathered, as the Gods decreed, Great store of herbs from hill and mead, Which, scattered o'er the troubled wave, The Amrit to the toilers gave.

The flush of rage a while gave place To chilling fear that changed his face:

Swift with an angry roar she smote With her huge hand the Vanar's throat. The smitten Vanar, rage-impelled, With fist upraised the monster felled: But quick repented, stirred with shame And pity for a vanquished dame, When with her senses troubled, weak With terror, thus she strove to speak: "O spare me thou whose arm is strong: O spare me, and forgive the wrong. The brave that law will ne'er transgress That spares a woman's helplessness. Hear, best of Vanars, brave and bold, What Brahma's self of yore foretold; "Beware," he said, "the fatal hour When thou shalt own a Vanar's power. Then is the giants' day of fear, For terror and defeat are near." Now, Vanar chief, o'ercome by thee, I own the truth of heaven's decree. For Sita's sake will ruin fall On Ravan, and his town, and all."

Obedient, at their master's call, Fleet giants clomb the circling wall. They saw the Vanars formed and led: They saw Sugriva at their head, The brothers from their bonds released: And hope grew faint and fear increased. Their faces pale with doubt and dread, Back to the giant king they sped, And to his startled ear revealed The tidings of the battle field.

When Bharat took his homeward road Still Rama in the wood abode: But soon he marked the fear and care That darkened all the hermits there. For all who dwelt before the hill Were sad with dread of coming ill: Each holy brow was lined by thought, And Rama's side they often sought. With gathering frowns the prince they eyed, And then withdrew and talked aside.

Scarce would they hear: they would not stay, And basely spoke in wild dismay: "Have we not fought, and fought in vain Have we not seen our mightiest slain? The giant's matchless force we fear, And fly because our lives are dear." But Bali's son with gentle art Dispelled their dread and cheered each heart. They turned and formed and waited still Obedient to the prince's will.

Sugriva heard, and, trained and tried In counsel, to his lords replied: "No deed of mine, no hasty word The anger of the prince has stirred. But haply some who hate me still And watch their time to work me ill, Have slandered me to Raghu's son, Accused of deeds I ne'er have done. Now, O my lords--for you are wise-- Speak truly what your hearts advise, And, pondering each event, inquire The reason of the prince's ire. No fear have I of Lakshman: none: No dread of Raghu's mightier son. But wrath, that fires a friendly breast Without due cause, disturbs my rest. With labour light is friendship gained, But with severest toil maintained. And doubt is strong, and faith is weak, And friendship dies when traitors speak. Hence is my troubled bosom cold With fear of Rama lofty-souled; For heavy on my spirit weigh His favours I can ne'er repay."

Then Rama, peerless in the skill That marks each sign of good and ill, Strained his dear brother to his breast, And thus with prudent words addressed: "Now, Lakshman, by the water's side In fruitful groves the host divide, That warriors of each woodland race May keep their own appointed place. Dire is the danger: loss of friends, Of Vanars and of bears, impends. Distained with dust the breezes blow, And earth is shaken from below. The tall hills rock from foot to crown, And stately trees come toppling down. In threatening shape, with voice of fear, The clouds like cannibals appear, And rain in fitful torrents, red With sanguinary drops, is shed. Long streaks of lurid light invest The evening skies from east to west. And from the sun at times a ball Of angry fire is seen to fall. From every glen and brake is heard The boding voice of beast and bird: From den and lair night-prowlers run And shriek against the falling sun. Up springs the moon, but hot and red Kills the sad night with woe and dread; No gentle lustre, but the gloom That heralds universal doom. A cloud of dust and vapour mars The beauty of the evening stars, And wild and fearful is the sky As though the wreck of worlds were nigh. Around our heads in boding flight Wheel hawk and vulture, crow and kite; And every bird of happy note Shrieks terror from his altered throat. Sword, spear and shaft shall strew the plain Dyed red with torrents of the slain. To-day the Vanar troops shall close Around the city of our foes."

They ceased and Angad thus began: "With jealous eye the stranger scan: Not yet with trusting heart receive Vibhishan, nor his tale believe. These giants wandering far and wide Their evil nature falsely hide, And watching with malignant skill Assail us when we fear no ill. Well ponder every hope and fear Until thy doubtful course be clear; Then own his merit or detect His guile, and welcome or reject."

The damsel's breast with fury burned: She answered, as the gift she spurned: "What time, O simple Queen, is this For idle dreams of fancied bliss? Hast thou not sense thy state to know, Engulfed in seas of whelming woe; Sick as I am with grief and pain My lips can scarce a laugh restrain To see thee hail with ill-timed joy A peril mighty to destroy. I mourn for one so fondly blind: What woman of a prudent mind Would welcome, e'en as thou hast done, The lordship of a rival's son, Rejoiced to find her secret foe Empowered, like death, to launch the blow; I see that Rama still must fear Thy Bharat, to his throne too near. Hence is my heart disquieted, For those who fear are those we dread. Lakshman, the mighty bow who draws, With all his soul serves Rama's cause; And chains as strong to Bharat bind Satrughna, with his heart and mind, Now next to Rama, lady fair, Thy Bharat is the lawful heir: And far remote, I ween, the chance That might the younger two advance. Yes, Queen, 'tis Rama that I dread, Wise, prompt, in warlike science bred; And oh, I tremble when I think Of thy dear child on ruin's brink. Blest with a lofty fate is she, Kausalya; for her son will be Placed, when the moon and Pushya meet, By Brahmans on the royal seat, Thou as a slave in suppliant guise Must wait upon Kausalya's eyes, With all her wealth and bliss secured And glorious from her foes assured. Her slave with us who serve thee, thou Wilt see thy son to Rama bow, And Sita's friends exult o'er all, While Bharat's wife shares Bharat's fall."

These were her words, and more beside, By wrath and bitter hate supplied. Then by her woe and fear o'erthrown She wept again and made her moan. As long she wept in grief and dread, Scarce conscious of the words she said, The wicked giant onward fled And bore her through the air. As firm he held the Maithil dame, Still wildly struggling, o'er her frame With grief and bitter misery came The trembling of despair.

"Fear, Ravan, basest of the base: For of mine own imperial race A prince in after time shall spring And thee and thine to ruin bring. And Vedavati,(966) ere she died Slain by my ruthless insult, cried: "A scion of my royal line Shall slay, vile wretch, both thee and thine." She in a later birth became King Janak's child, now Rama's dame. Nandisvara(967) foretold this fate, And Uma(968) when I moved her hate, And Rambha,(969) and the lovely child Of Varun(970) by my touch defiled. I know the fated hour is nigh: Hence, captains, to your stations fly. Let warders on the rampart stand: Place at each gate a watchful band; And, terror of immortal eyes, Let mightiest Kumbhakarna rise. He, slumbering, free from care and pain, By Brahma's curse, for months has lain. But when Prahasta's death he hears, Mine own defeat and doubts and fears, The chief will rise to smite the foe And his unrivalled valour show. Then Raghu's royal sons and all The Vanars neath his might will fall."

Then Vishnu, God of Gods, the Lord Supreme by all the worlds adored, To Brahma and the suppliants spake: "Dismiss your fear: for your dear sake In battle will I smite him dead, The cruel fiend, the Immortal's dread. And lords and ministers and all His kith and kin with him shall fall. Then, in the world of mortal men, Ten thousand years and hundreds ten I as a human king will reign, And guard the earth as my domain."

He ceased: his finger bathed in dew Across Sugriva's eyes he drew; From dulling mist his vision freed, And spoke these words to suit the need: "No time is this for fear: away With fainting heart and weak delay. Now, e'en the tear which sorrow wrings From loving eyes destruction brings. Up, on to battle at the head Of those brave troops which Rama led. Or guardian by his side remain Till sense and strength the prince regain. Soon shall the trance-bound pair revive, And from our hearts all sorrow drive. Though prostrate on the earth he lie, Deem not that Rama's death is nigh; Deem not that Lakshmi will forget Or leave her darling champion yet. Rest here and be thy heart consoled; Ponder my words, be firm and bold. I, foremost in the battlefield, Will rally all who faint or yield. Their staring eyes betray their fear; They whisper each in other's ear. They, when they hear my cheering cry And see the friend of Rama nigh, Will cast their gloom and fears away Like faded wreaths of yesterday."

He spoke: then Lakshman's wrath rose high, And there before his brother's eye, He drew that sword which none could stay, And cleft her nose and ears away. Noseless and earless, torn and maimed, With fearful shrieks the fiend exclaimed, And frantic in her wild distress Resought the distant wilderness. Deformed, terrific, huge, and dread, As on she moved, her gashes bled, And groan succeeded groan as loud As roars, ere rain, the thunder cloud. Still on the fearful monster passed, While streams of blood kept falling fast, And with a roar, and arms outspread Within the boundless wood she fled. To Janasthan the monster flew; Fierce Khara there she found, With chieftains of the giant crew In thousands ranged around. Before his awful feet she bent And fell with piercing cries, As when a bolt in swift descent Comes flashing from the skies. There for a while with senses dazed Silent she lay and scared: At length her drooping head she raised, And all the tale declared, How Rama, Lakshman, and the dame Had reached that lonely place: Then told her injuries and shame, And showed her bleeding face.

Such were the thoughts and sad surmise Of Rama at the jackal's cries, And all his heart within him burned As to his cot his steps he turned. He pondered on the deer that led His feet to follow where it fled, And sad with many a bitter thought His home in Janasthan he sought. His soul was dark with woe and fear When flocks of birds and troops of deer Move round him from the left, and raised Discordant voices as they gazed. The omens which the chieftain viewed The terror of his soul renewed, When lo, to meet him Lakshman sped With brows whence all the light had fled. Near and more near the princes came, Each brother's heart and look the same; Alike on each sad visage lay The signs of misery and dismay, Then Rama by his terror moved His brother for his fault reproved In leaving Sita far from aid In the wild wood where giants strayed. Lakshman's left hand he took, and then In gentle tones the prince of men, Though sharp and fierce their tenour ran, Thus to his brother chief began:

As through the air beneath her swept The Lord of Gods, the drops she wept, Fine, laden with delicious smell, Upon his heavenly body fell. And Indra lifted up his eyes And saw her standing in the skies, Afflicted with her sorrow's weight, Sad, weeping, all disconsolate. The Lord of Gods in anxious mood Thus spoke in suppliant attitude: "No fear disturbs our rest, and how Come this great dread upon thee now? Whence can this woe upon thee fall, Say, gentle one who lovest all?"

He ceased: and mad with wrath and pride The giant champion thus replied: "Come thou to me and thou shalt find A foeman of a different kind. No Khara, no Viradha,--thou Hast met a mightier warrior now. The strength of Kumbhakarna fear, And dread the iron mace I rear This mace in days of yore subdued The Gods and Danav multitude. Prove, lion of Ikshvaku's line, Thy power upon these limbs of mine. Then, after trial, shalt thou bleed, And with thy flesh my hunger feed."

The father lent a gracious ear And listened to their tale of fear, And kindly to the Gods replied Whom woe and death had terrified: "The wisest Vasudeva,(185) who The Immortals' foe, fierce Madhu, slew, Regards broad Earth with love and pride And guards, in Kapil's form, his bride.(186) His kindled wrath will quickly fall On the king's sons and burn them all. This cleaving of the earth his eye Foresaw in ages long gone by: He knew with prescient soul the fate That Sagar's children should await."

The monarch, famous through the world Again his fearful weapons hurled, That made Kambojas,(227) Barbars,(228) all, With Yavans, troubled, flee and fall.

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."

And then the king, of virtuous mind, A blood-red wreath around him twined, Forth on an ass-drawn chariot sped, As southward still he bent his head. Then, crimson-clad, a dame appeared Who at the monarch laughed and jeered; And a she-monster, dire to view, Her hand upon his body threw. Such is the dream I dreamt by night, Which chills me yet with wild affright: Either the king or Rama, I Or Lakshman now must surely die. For when an ass-drawn chariot seems To bear away a man in dreams, Be sure above his funeral pyre The smoke soon rears its cloudy spire. This makes my spirit low and weak, My tongue is slow and loth to speak: My lips and throat are dry for dread, And all my soul disquieted. My lips, relaxed, can hardly speak, And chilling dread has changed my cheek I blame myself in aimless fears, And still no cause of blame appears. I dwell upon this dream of ill Whose changing scenes I viewed, And on the startling horror still My troubled thoughts will brood. Still to my soul these terrors cling, Reluctant to depart, And the strange vision of the king Still weighs upon my heart."

"Once in my strength and vigour's pride I roamed this earth from side to side, And towering like a mountain's crest, A thousand Nagas'(491) might possessed. Like some vast sable cloud I showed: My golden armlets flashed and glowed. A crown I wore, an axe I swayed, And all I met were sore afraid. I roved where Dandak wood is spread; On flesh of slaughtered saints I fed. Then Visvamitra, sage revered, Holy of heart, my fury feared. To Dasaratha's court he sped And went before the king and said:(492)

Far down against the mountain's feet The Vanar heard the wild waves beat; Then turned his glances to the north. Sprang from the peak and bounded forth, The mountain felt the fearful shock And trembled through his mass of rock. The tallest trees were crushed and rent And headlong to the valley sent, And as the rocking shook each cave Loud was the roar the lions gave. Forth from the shaken cavern came Fierce serpents with their tongues aflame; And every Yaksha, wild with dread, And Kinnar and Gandharva, fled.

He ceased: he hurled the mortal dart By Maya forged with magic art. The spear, with all his fury flung, Swift, flickering like a serpent's tongue, Adorned with many a tinkling bell, Smote Lakshman, and the hero fell. When Rama saw, he heaved a sigh, A tear one moment dimmed his eye. But tender grief was soon repressed And thoughts of vengeance filled his breast. The air around him flashed and gleamed As from his bow the arrows streamed; And Lanka's lord, the foeman's dread, O'erwhelmed with terror turned and fled.

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?

Sardula, Ravan's spy, surveyed The legions on the strand arrayed. And bore, his bosom racked with fear, These tidings to the monarch's ear:

The bird, empowered by Gods to spring Through earth itself on rapid wing, Through the three worlds in terror fled Still followed by that arrow dread. Where'er he flew, now here now there, A cloud of weapons filled the air. Back to the high-souled prince he fled And bent at Rama's feet his head, And then, as Sita looked, began His speech in accents of a man: "O pardon, and for pity's sake Spare, Rama, spare my life to take! Where'er I turn, where'er I flee, No shelter from this shaft I see."

Thus each to other pledged and bound In solemn league new transport found, And bent upon his dear ally The gaze he ne'er could satisfy. "Friend of my soul art thou: we share Each other's joy, each other's care;" Thus in the bliss that thrilled his breast Sugriva Raghu's son addressed. From a high Sal a branch he tore Which many a leaf and blossom bore, And the fine twigs beneath them laid A seat for him and Rama made. Then Hanuman with joyous mind, Son of the God who rules the wind, To Lakshman gave, his seat to be, The gay branch of a Sandal tree. Then King Sugriva with his eyes Still trembling with the sweet surprise Of the great joy he could not hide, To Raghu's noblest scion cried: "O Rama, racked with woe and fear, Spurned by my foes, I wander here. Reft of my spouse, forlorn I dwell Here in my forest citadel. Or wild with terror and distress Roam through the distant wilderness. Vext by my brother Bali long My soul has borne the scathe and wrong. Do thou, whose virtues all revere, Release me from my woe and fear. From dire distress thy friend to free Is a high task and worthy thee."

Then Lakshman and each Vanar chief Who heard his words were filled with grief. The lady's gentle spirit sank, And from each eye in fear she shrank, As, her sweet eyelids veiled for shame, Slowly before her lord she came. While rapture battled with surprise She raised to his her wistful eyes. Then with her doubt and fear she strove, And from her breast all sorrow drove. Regardless of the gathering crowd, Bright as the moon without a cloud, She bent her eyes, no longer dim, In joy and trusting love on him.

Prince Angad heard and wild with grief Cried as he looked upon the chief: "'Tis Lakshman's self: impelled by ire He seeks the city of my sire." At the fierce words and furious look Of Raghu's son he quailed and shook. Back through the city gates he sped, And, laden with the tale of dread, Sought King Sugriva, filled his ears And Ruma's with his doubts and fears. To Ruma and the king he bent, And clasped their feet most reverent, Clasped the dear feet of Tara, too, And told the startling tale anew.

With amorous look and soft address The fiend began his suit to press: "Why wouldst thou, lady lotus-eyed, From my fond glance those beauties hide? Mine eager suit no more repel: But love me, for I love thee well. Dismiss, sweet dame, dismiss thy fear; No giant and no man is near. Ours is the right by force to seize What dames soe'er our fancy please.(828) But I with rude hands will not touch A lady whom I love so much. Fear not, dear queen: no fear is nigh: Come, on thy lover's love rely, Some little sign of favor show, Nor lie enamoured of thy woe. Those limbs upon that cold earth laid, Those tresses twined in single braid,(829) The fast and woe that wear thy frame, Beseem not thee, O beauteous dame. For thee the fairest wreaths were meant, The sandal and the aloe's scent, Rich ornaments and pearls of price, And vesture meet for Paradise. With dainty cates shouldst thou be fed, And rest upon a sumptuous bed. And festive joys to thee belong, The music, and the dance and song. Rise, pearl of women, rise and deck With gems and chains thine arms and neck. Shall not the dame I love be seen In vesture worthy of a queen? Methinks when thy sweet form was made His hand the wise Creator stayed; For never more did he design A beauty meet to rival thine. Come, let us love while yet we may, For youth will fly and charms decay, Come cast thy grief and fear aside, And be my love, my chosen bride. The gems and jewels that my hand Has reft from every plundered land,-- To thee I give them all this day, And at thy feet my kingdom lay. The broad rich earth will I o'errun, And leave no town unconquered, none; Then of the whole an offering make To Janak,(830) dear, for thy sweet sake. In all the world no power I see Of God or man can strive with me. Of old the Gods and Asurs set In terrible array I met: Their scattered hosts to earth I beat, And trod their flags beneath my feet. Come, taste of bliss and drink thy fill, And rule the slave who serves thy will.

She saw no friend to aid her, none, Not Rama nor the younger son Of Dasaratha, and undone She swooned with fear and pain.

Thus, all his thoughts on Sita bent, To Janasthan the chieftain went, Hastening on with eager stride, And Lakshman hurried by his side. With toil and thirst and hunger worn, His breast with doubt and anguish torn, He sought the well-known spot. Again, again he turned to chide With quivering lips which terror dried: He looked, and found her not. Within his leafy home he sped, Each pleasant spot he visited Where oft his darling strayed. "'Tis as I feared," he cried, and there, Yielding to pangs too great to bear, He sank by grief dismayed.

Yupaksha answered: "Chieftain, hear; No God or fiend excites our fear. But men in arms our walls assail: We tremble lest their might prevail. For vengeful Rama vows to slay The foe who stole his queen away, And, matchless for his warlike deeds, A host of mighty Vanars leads. Ere now a monstrous Vanar came, Laid Lanka waste with ruthless flame, And Aksha, Ravan's offspring, slew With all his warrior retinue. Our king who never trembled yet For heavenly hosts in battle met, At length the general dread has shared, O'erthrown by Rama's arm and spared."

The tyrant's troubled eye confessed The secret fear that filled his breast. With dread of coming woe dismayed He called his counsellors to aid; Then sternly silent, deep in thought, His chamber in the palace sought. Then, as the surest hope of all, The monarch bade his servants call Vidyujjihva, whom magic skill Made master of the means of ill. Then spake the lord of Lanka's isle: "Come, Sita with thine arts beguile. With magic skill and deftest care A head like Rama's own prepare. This head, long shafts and mighty bow, To Janak's daughter will we show."

When thus the suppliant Gods had prayed, His wise reply Narayan(108) made: "What task demands my presence there, And whence this dread, ye Gods declare."