Ramayana on Fear

Then passed the weary night, and all Assembled at their prince's call, And every lord of high estate Was gathered round him for debate. Bright was the chieftains' glorious band Round Angad on the ocean strand, As when the mighty Storm-Gods meet Round Indra on his golden seat. Then princely Angad looked on each, And thus began his prudent speech: "What chief of all our host will leap A hundred leagues across the deep? Who, O illustrious Vanars, who Will make Sugriva's promise true, And from our weight of fear set free The leaders of our band and me? To whom, O warriors, shall we owe A sweet release from pain and woe, And proud success, and happy lives With our dear children and our wives, Again permitted by his grace To look with joy on Rama's face, And noble Lakshman, and our lord The king, to our sweet homes restored?"

"Thy rights, O Ravan, I allow: My brother and mine elder thou. Such, though from duty's path they stray, We love like fathers and obey, But still too bitter to be borne Is thy harsh speech of cruel scorn. The rash like thee, who spurn control, Nor check one longing of the soul, Urged by malignant fate repel The faithful friend who counsels well. A thousand courtiers wilt thou meet, With flattering lips of smooth deceit: But rare are they whose tongue or ear Will speak the bitter truth, or hear. Unclose thy blinded eyes and see That snares of death encompass thee. I dread, my brother, to behold The shafts of Rama, bright with gold, Flash fury through the air, and red With fires of vengeance strike thee dead. Lord, brother, King, again reflect, Nor this mine earnest prayer reject, O, save thyself, thy royal town, Thy people and thine old renown."

That moment brought Vibhishan near. Sugriva knew the cause of fear, And ordered Jambavan, who led The bears, to check the hosts that fled. The king of bears his hest obeyed: The Vanars' headlong flight was stayed. A little while Vibhishan eyed The brothers fallen side by side. His giant fingers wet with dew Across the heroes' eyes he drew, Still on the pair his sad look bent, And spoke these word in wild lament: "Ah for the mighty chiefs brought low By coward hand and stealthy blow! Brave pair who loved the open fight, Slain by that rover of the night. Dishonest is the victory won By Indrajit my brother's son. I on their might for aid relied, And in my cause they fought and died. Lost is the hope that soothed each pain: I live, but live no more to reign, While Lanka's lord, untouched by ill, Exults in safe defiance still."

With heavy hand the giant smote Hanuman on the chest and throat, Who reeled and staggered to and fro, Stunned for a moment by the blow. Till, mustering strength, his hand he reared And struck the foe whom Indra feared. His huge limbs bent beneath the shock, As mountains, in an earthquake, rock, And from the Gods and sages pealed Shouts of loud triumph as he reeled. But strength returning nerved his frame: His eyeballs flashed with fiercer flame. No living creature might resist That blow of his tremendous fist Which fell upon Hanuman's flank: And to the ground the Vanar sank, No sign of life his body showed: And Ravan in his chariot rode At Nila; and his arrowy rain Fell on the captain and his train. Fierce Nila stayed his Vanar band, And, heaving with his single hand A mountain peak, with vigorous swing Hurled the huge missile at the king.

The pupils heard, and prompt obeyed, To every side their way they made. Then swift from every quarter sped The sages in the Vedas read. Back to that saint the envoys came, Whose glory shone like burning flame, And told him in their faithful speech The answer that they bore from each: "Submissive to thy word, O Seer, The holy men are gathering here. By all was meet obedience shown: Mahodaya(238) refused alone. And now, O Chief of hermits, hear What answer, chilling us with fear, Vasishtha's hundred sons returned, Thick-speaking as with rage they burned: "How will the Gods and saints partake The offerings that the prince would make, And he a vile and outcast thing, His ministrant one born a king? Can we, great Brahmans, eat his food, And think to win beatitude, By Visvamitra purified?" Thus sire and sons in scorn replied, And as these bitter words they said, Wild fury made their eyeballs red.

Then spoke the hermit pious-souled: "Rama, dear son, the bow behold." Then Rama at his word unclosed The chest wherein its might reposed, Thus crying, as he viewed it: "Lo! I lay mine hand upon the bow: May happy luck my hope attend Its heavenly strength to lift or bend." "Good luck be thine," the hermit cried: "Assay the task!" the king replied. Then Raghu's son, as if in sport, Before the thousands of the court, The weapon by the middle raised That all the crowd in wonder gazed. With steady arm the string he drew Till burst the mighty bow in two. As snapped the bow, an awful clang, Loud as the shriek of tempests, rang. The earth, affrighted, shook amain As when a hill is rent in twain. Then, senseless at the fearful sound, The people fell upon the ground: None save the king, the princely pair, And the great saint, the shock could bear.

Then Ravan speeding like the storm, Bearing his death in human form, The struggling Sita, lighted down In royal Lanka's glorious town; A city bright and rich, that showed Well-ordered street and noble road; Arranged with just division, fair With multitudes in court and square. Thus, all his journey done, he passed Within his royal home at last. There in a queenly bower he placed The black-eyed dame with dainty waist: Thus in her chamber Maya laid The lovely Maya, demon maid. Then Ravan gave command to all The dread she-fiends who filled the hall: "This captive lady watch and guard From sight of man and woman barred. But all the fair one asks beside Be with unsparing hand supplied: As though 'twere I that asked, withhold No pearls or dress or gems or gold. And she among you that shall dare Of purpose or through want of care One word to vex her soul to say, Throws her unvalued life away."

He ceased: and Rama thus replied: "Be not this grace, O sire, denied. Those hasty words, that curse revoke Which from thy lips in anger broke: "Kaikeyi, be no longer mine: I cast thee off, both thee and thine." O father, let no sorrow fall On her or hers: thy curse recall." "Yea, she shall live, if so thou wilt," The sire replied, "absolved from guilt." Round Lakshman then his arms he threw, And moved by love began anew: "Great store of merit shall be thine, And brightly shall thy glory shine; Secure on earth thy brother's grace. And high in heaven shall be thy place. Thy glorious king obey and fear: To him the triple world is dear. God, saint, and sage, by Indra led, To Rama bow the reverent head, Nor from the Lord, the lofty-souled, Their worship or their praise withhold. Heart of the Gods, supreme is he, The One who ne'er shall cease to be."

Thus questioned Sita, Rama's dame. Then fierce the stranger's answer came: "Lord of the giant legions, he From whom celestial armies flee,-- The dread of hell and earth and sky, Ravan the Rakshas king am I. Now when thy gold-like form I view Arrayed in silks of amber hue, My love, O thou of perfect mould, For all my dames is dead and cold. A thousand fairest women, torn From many a land my home adorn. But come, loveliest lady, be The queen of every dame and me. My city Lanka, glorious town, Looks from a mountain's forehead down Where ocean with his flash and foam Beats madly on mine island home. With me, O Sita, shalt thou rove Delighted through each shady grove, Nor shall thy happy breast retain Fond memory of this life of pain. In gay attire, a glittering band, Five thousand maids shall round thee stand, And serve thee at thy beck and sign, If thou, fair Sita, wilt be mine."

Forth came impetuous Bali, stirred To fury by the shout he heard. So the great sun, ere night has ceased, Springs up impatient to the east. Then fierce and wild the conflict raged As hand to hand the foes engaged, As though in battle mid the stars Fought Mercury and fiery Mars.(575) To highest pitch of frenzy wrought With fists like thunderbolts they fought, While near them Rama took his stand, And viewed the battle, bow in hand. Alike they stood in form and might, Like heavenly Asvins(576) paired in fight, Nor might the son of Raghu know Where fought the friend and where the foe; So, while his bow was ready bent, No life-destroying shaft he sent. Crushed down by Bali's mightier stroke Sugriva's force now sank and broke, Who, hoping naught from Rama's aid, To Rishyamuka fled dismayed, Weary, and faint, and wounded sore, His body bruised and dyed with gore, From Bali's blows, in rage and dread, Afar to sheltering woods he fled.

Shouts of triumphant joy outrang As to their feet the Vanars sprang: And, on the mighty task intent, Swift to the sea their steps they bent. They stood and gazed upon the deep, Whose billows with a roar and leap On the sea banks ware wildly hurled,-- The mirror of the mighty world. There on the strand the Vanars stayed And with sad eyes the deep surveyed, Here, as in play, his billows rose, And there he slumbered in repose. Here leapt the boisterous waters, high As mountains, menacing the sky, And wild infernal forms between The ridges of the waves were seen. They saw the billows rave and swell, And their sad spirits sank and fell; For ocean in their deep despair Seemed boundless as the fields of air. Then noble Angad spake to cheer The Vanars and dispel their fear: "Faint not: despair should never find Admittance to a noble mind. Despair, a serpent's mortal bite, Benumbs the hero's power and might."

He ceased: and Angad bowed his head; Thence like embodied flame he sped, And lighted from his airy road Within the Rakshas king's abode. There sate, the centre of a ring Of counsellors, the giant king. Swift through the circle Angad pressed, And spoke with fury in his breast: "Sent by the lord of Kosal's land, His envoy here, O King, I stand, Angad the son of Bali: fame Has haply taught thine ears my name. Thus in the words of Rama I Am come to warn thee or defy: Come forth, and fighting in the van Display the spirit of a man. This arm shall slay thee, tyrant: all Thy nobles, kith and kin shall fall: And earth and heaven, from terror freed, Shall joy to see the oppressor bleed. Vibhishan, when his foe is slain, Anointed king in peace shall reign. Once more I counsel thee: repent, Avoid the mortal punishment, With honour due the dame restore, And pardon for thy sin implore."

The best of Brahmans answer made: "Be not, great lord of kings, afraid. Thy virtues have not failed to win My favour, O thou pure of sin." Then in the front the saint was placed, The king came next in joyous haste, And with him entered his abode, Mid glad acclaim as on they rode. To greet the sage the reverent crowd Raised suppliant hands and humbly bowed. Then from the palace many a dame Following well-dressed Santa came, Stood by the mighty saint and cried: "See, honour's source, thy son's dear bride." The saint, who every virtue knew, His arms around his daughter threw, And with a father's rapture pressed The lady to his wondering breast. Arising from the saint's embrace She bowed her low before his face, And then, with palm to palm applied, Stood by her hermit father's side. He for his son, as laws ordain, Performed the rite that frees from stain,(129) And, honoured by the wise and good, With him departed to the wood.

"Here, Lakshman, on this beauteous shore, Stands, dyed with tints of many an ore, The mountain Rishyamuka bright With flowery trees that crown each height. Sprung from the chief who, famed of yore, The name of Riksharajas bore, Sugriva, chieftain strong and dread, Dwells on that mountain's towering head. Go to him, best of men, and seek That prince of Vanars on the peak, I cannot longer brook my pain, Or, Sita lost, my life retain." Thus by the pangs of love distressed, His thoughts on Sita bent, His faithful brother he addressed, And cried in wild lament. He reached the lovely ground that lay On Pampa's wooded side, And told in anguish and dismay, The grief he could not hide. With listless footsteps faint and slow His way the chief pursued, Till Pampa with her glorious show Of flowering woods he viewed. Through shades where every bird was found The prince with Lakshman passed, And Pampa with her groves around Burst on his eyes at last.

He ceased: the spy his fear controlled, And to the king his story told: "I reached the ocean's distant shore, Thy message to the king I bore. In sudden wrath the Vanars rose, They struck me down with furious blows; They seized me helpless on the ground, My plumage rent, my pinions bound. They would not, headlong in their ire, Consider, listen, or inquire; So fickle, wrathful, rough and rude Is the wild forest multitude. There, marshalling the Vanar bands, King Rama with Sugriva stands, Rama the matchless warrior, who Viradha and Kabandha slew, Khara, and countless giants more, And tracks his queen to Lanka's shore. A bridge athwart the sea was cast, And o'er it have his legions passed. Hark! heralded by horns and drums The terrible avenger comes. E'en now the giants' isle he fills With warriors huge as clouds and hills, And burning with vindictive hate Will thunder soon at Lanka's gate. Yield or oppose him: choose between Thy safety and the Maithil queen."

He spoke, and hurled the mass he held: The giant's chest the stroke repelled, Then on the Vanars fell despair, And Rakshas clamour filled the air. The giant raised his arm, and fast Came the tremendous(980) spear he cast. Hanuman caught it as it flew, And knapped it on his knee in two. The giant saw the broken spear: His clouded eye confessed his fear; Yet at Sugriva's head he sent A peak from Lanka's mountain rent. The rushing mass no might could stay: Sugriva fell and senseless lay. The giant stooped his foe to seize, And bore him thence, as bears the breeze A cloud in autumn through the sky. He heard the sad Immortals sigh, And shouts of triumph long and loud Went up from all the Rakshas crowd. Through Lanka's gate the giant passed Holding his struggling captive fast, While from each terrace, house, and tower Fell on his haughty head a shower Of fragrant scent and flowery rain, Blossoms and leaves and scattered grain.(981)

Then glorious Kasyap thus replied To Diti, as she wept and sighed: "Thy prayer is heard, dear saint! Remain Pure from all spot, and thou shalt gain A son whose arm shall take the life Of Indra in the battle strife. For full a thousand years endure Free from all stain, supremely pure; Then shall thy son and mine appear, Whom the three worlds shall serve with fear." These words the glorious Kasyap said, Then gently stroked his consort's head, Blessed her, and bade a kind adieu, And turned him to his rites anew. Soon as her lord had left her side, Her bosom swelled with joy and pride. She sought the shade of holy boughs, And there began her awful vows. While yet she wrought her rites austere, Indra, unbidden, hastened near, With sweet observance tending her, A reverential minister. Wood, water, fire, and grass he brought, Sweet roots and woodland fruit he sought, And all her wants, the Thousand-eyed, With never-failing care, supplied, With tender love and soft caress Removing pain and weariness.

The king to bitter grief a prey, That drove each wandering sense away, Sunk in affliction's sea, too wide To traverse, in his anguish cried: "Hard, hard to pass, my Queen, this sea Of sorrow raging over me: No Rama near to soothe mine eye, Plunged in its lowest deeps I lie. Sorrow for Rama swells the tide, And Sita's absence makes it wide: My tears its foamy flood distain, Made billowy by my sighs of pain: My cries its roar, the arms I throw About me are the fish below, Kaikeyi is the fire that feeds Beneath: my hair the tangled weeds: Its source the tears for Rama shed: The hump-back's words its monsters dread: The boon I gave the wretch its shore, Till Rama's banishment be o'er.(334) Ah me, that I should long to set My eager eyes to-day On Raghu's son, and he be yet With Lakshman far away!" Thus he of lofty glory wailed, And sank upon the bed. Beneath the woe his spirit failed, And all his senses fled.

With every arm of war supplied, On-rushing wildly like the tide Of some deep sea, the giant host Approached where Rama kept his post. Then he, in battle skilled and tried, Bent his keen eye on every side, And viewed the host of Khara face To face before his dwelling-place. He drew his arrows forth, and reared And strained that bow which foemen feared, And yielded to the vengeful sway Of fierce desire that host to slay. Terrific as the ruinous fire That ends the worlds, he glowed in ire, And his tremendous form dismayed The Gods who roam the forest shade. For in the furious wrath that glowed Within his soul the hero showed Like Siva when his angry might Stayed Daksha's sacrificial rite.(466) Like some great cloud at dawn of day When first the sun upsprings, And o'er the gloomy mass each ray A golden radiance flings: Thus showed the children of the night, Whose mail and chariots threw, With gleam of bows and armlets bright, Flashes of flamy hue.

"Thy lord his days in pleasure spends, Heedless of duty and of friends, Nor dost thou mark, though fondly true, The evil path his steps pursue. He cares not for affairs of state, Nor us forlorn and desolate, But sits a mere spectator still, A sensual slave to pleasure's will. Four months were fixed, the time agreed When he should help us in our need: But, bound in toils of pleasure fast, He sees not that the months are past. Where beats the heart which draughts of wine To virtue or to gain incline? Hast thou not heard those draughts destroy Virtue and gain and love and joy? For those who, helped at need, refuse Their aid in turn, their virtue lose: And they who scorn a friend disdain A treasure naught may buy again. Thy lord has cast his friend away, Nor feared from virtue's path to stray, If this be true, declare, O dame Who knowest duty's every claim, What further work remains for us Deceived and disappointed thus."

Red as the sun on Meru's crest The giant's face his wrath expressed, And every burning breath he drew Was like the blast that rushes through The mountain cedars. Up he raised His awful head with eyes that blazed Like comets, dire as Death in form Who threats the worlds with fire and storm. The giants pointed to their stores Of buffaloes and deer and boars, And straight he gorged him with a flood Of wine, with marrow, flesh, and blood. He ceased: the giants ventured near And bent their lowly heads in fear. Then Kumbhakar[n.]a glared with eyes Still heavy in their first surprise, Still drowsy from his troubled rest, And thus the giant band addressed. "How have ye dared my sleep to break? No trifling cause should bid me wake. Say, is all well? or tell the need That drives you with unruly speed To wake me. Mark the words I say, The king shall tremble in dismay, The fire be quenched and Indra slain Ere ye shall break my rest in vain."

To calm his wrath, his soul to ease, The younger spake in words like these: "Yea, from our bosoms let us cast All idle sorrow for the past. Let grief and anger be repressed: Again be firm and self-possessed. This day, O Monarch, shalt thou see The Vanar legions turn and flee, And Rama and his brother slain With their hearts' blood shall dye the plain. Yea, if the God who rules the dead, And Varun their battalions led; If Indra with the Storm-Gods came Against me, and the Lord of Flame, Still would I fight with all and slay Thy banded foes, my King, to-day. If Raghu's son this day withstand The blow of mine uplifted hand, Deep in his breast my darts shall sink, And torrents of his life-blood drink. O fear not, in my promise trust: This arm shall lay him in the dust, Shall leave the fierce Sugriva dyed With gore, and Lakshman by his side, And strike the great Hanuman down, The spoiler of our glorious town."(973)

Cheered by the grace the Immortals showed The chieftain on the chariot rode. Then as the car-borne warriors met The awful fight raged fiercer yet. Each shaft that Ravan shot became A serpent red with kindled flame, And round the limbs of Rama hung With fiery jaws and quivering tongue. But every serpent fled dismayed When Raghu's valiant son displayed The weapon of the Feathered King,(998) And loosed his arrows from the string. But Ravan armed his bow anew, And showers of shafts at Rama flew, While the fierce king in swift career Smote with a dart the charioteer. An arrow shot by Ravan's hand Laid the proud banner on the sand, And Indra's steeds of heavenly strain Fell by the iron tempest slain. On Gods and spirits of the air Fell terror, trembling, and despair. The sea's white billows mounted high With froth and foam to drench the sky. The sun by lurid clouds was veiled, The friendly lights of heaven were paled; And, fiercely gleaming, fiery Mars Opposed the beams of gentler stars.

Thus in their dread the Immortals sued: The God a dwarflike shape indued:(168) Before Virochan's son he came, Three steps of land his only claim. The boon obtained, in wondrous wise Lord Vishnu's form increased in size; Through all the worlds, tremendous, vast, God of the Triple Step, he passed.(169) The whole broad earth from side to side He measured with one mighty stride, Spanned with the next the firmament, And with the third through heaven he went. Thus was the king of demons hurled By Vishnu to the nether world, And thus the universe restored To Indra's rule, its ancient lord. And now because the immortal God This spot in dwarflike semblance trod, The grove has aye been loved by me For reverence of the devotee. But demons haunt it, prompt to stay Each holy offering I would pay. Be thine, O lion-lord, to kill These giants that delight in ill. This day, beloved child, our feet Shall rest within the calm retreat: And know, thou chief of Raghu's line, My hermitage is also thine."

As thus the maid in wrath complained, Kaikeyi saw her heart was pained, And answered eager in defence Of Rama's worth and excellence: "Nay, Rama, born the monarch's heir, By holy fathers trained with care, Virtuous, grateful, pure, and true, Claims royal sway as rightly due. He, like a sire, will long defend Each brother, minister, and friend. Then why, O hump-back, art thou pained To hear that he the throne has gained? Be sure when Rama's empire ends, The kingdom to my son descends, Who, when a hundred years are flown, Shall sit upon his fathers' throne. Why is thine heart thus sad to see The joy that is and long shall be, This fortune by possession sure And hopes which we may count secure? Dear as the darling son I bore Is Rama, yea, or even more. Most duteous to Kausalya, he Is yet more dutiful to me. What though he rule, we need not fear: His brethren to his soul are dear. And if the throne Prince Rama fill Bharat will share the empire still."

"With matted hair above thy brows, With bow and shaft and this thy spouse, How hast thou sought in hermit dress The giant-haunted wilderness? What dost thou here? The cause explain: Why art thou come, and what to gain?" As Surpanakha questioned so, Rama, the terror of the foe, In answer to the monster's call, With fearless candour told her all. "King Dasaratha reigned of old, Like Gods celestial brave and bold. I am his eldest son and heir, And Rama is the name I bear. This brother, Lakshman, younger born, Most faithful love to me has sworn. My wife, this princess, dear to fame, Is Sita the Videhan dame. Obedient to my sire's behest And by the queen my mother pressed, To keep the law and merit win, I sought this wood to harbour in. But speak, for I of thee in turn Thy name, and race, and sire would learn. Thou art of giant race, I ween. Changing at will thy form and mien. Speak truly, and the cause declare That bids thee to these shades repair."

When Rama's speech had found a close, Brave Lakshman, terror of his foes, With wise and soothing words addressed Sugriva still with woe oppressed: "Arise Sugriva," thus he said, "Perform the service of the dead. Prepare with Tara and her son That Bali's rites be duly done. A store of funeral wood provide Which wind and sun and time have dried And richest sandal fit to grace The pyre of one of royal race. With words of comfort soft and kind Console poor Angad's troubled mind, Nor let thy heart be thus cast down, For thine is now the Vanars' town. Let Angad's care a wreath supply, And raiment rich with varied dye, And oil and perfumes for the fire, And all the solemn rites require. Go, hasten to the town, O King, And Tara's little quickly bring. A virtue is despatch: and speed Is best of all in hour of need. Go, let a chosen band prepare The litter of the dead to bear. For stout and tall and strong of limb Must be the chiefs who carry him."

They bent their airy course afar Along the paths of bird and star, And sped through ether farther yet Where Vishnu's splendid sphere is set.(646) By sea, on hill, by wood and lake They called to arms for Rama's sake, As each with terror in his breast Obeyed his awful king's behest. Three million Vanars, fierce and strong As Anjan's self, a wondrous throng Sped from the spot where Rama still Gazed restless from the woody hill. Ten million others, brave and bold, With coats that shone like burning gold, Came flying from the mountain crest Where sinks the weary sun to rest. Impetuous from the northern skies, Where Mount Kailasa's summits rise, Ten hundred millions hasted, hued Like manes of lions, ne'er subdued: The dwellers on Himalaya's side, Whose food his roots and fruit supplied, With rangers of the Vindhyan chain And neighbours of the Milky Main.(647) Some from the palm groves where they fed, Some from the woods of betel sped: In countless numbers, fierce and brave, They came from mountain, lake, and cave.

"In vain the softer gifts that grace The good are offered to the base. Long-suffering, patience, gentle speech Their thankless hearts can never reach. The world to him its honour pays Whose ready tongue himself can praise, Who scorns the true, and hates the right, Whose hand is ever raised to smite. Each milder art is tried in vain: It wins no glory, but disdain. And victory owns no softer charm Than might which nerves a warrior's arm. My humble suit is still denied By Ocean's overweening pride. This day the monsters of the deep In throes of death shall wildly leap. My shafts shall rend the serpents curled In caverns of the watery world, Disclose each sunless depth and bare The tangled pearl and coral there. Away with mercy! at a time Like this compassion is a crime. Welcome, the battle and the foe! My bow! my arrows and my bow! This day the Vanars' feet shall tread The conquered Sea's exhausted bed, And he who never feared before Shall tremble to his farthest shore."

"'Twas meet that mid the thousands here The searching fire my queen should clear; For long within the giant's bower She dwelt the vassal of his power. For else had many a slanderous tongue Reproaches on mine honour flung, And scorned the king who, love-impelled, His consort from the proof withheld. No doubt had I, but surely knew That Janak's child was pure and true, That, come what might, in good and ill Her faithful heart was with me still. I knew that Ravan could not wrong My queen whom virtue made so strong. I knew his heart would sink and fail, Nor dare her honour to assail, As Ocean, when he raves and roars, Fears to o'erleap his bounding shores. Now to the worlds her truth is shown, And Sita is again mine own. Thus proved before unnumbered eyes, On her pure fame no shadow lies. As heroes to their glory cleave, Mine own dear spouse I ne'er will leave." He ceased: and clasped in fond embrace On his dear breast she hid her face.

Thus spoke the prince of boundless might, And thus replied the anchorite: "Chief of the mighty arm, of yore Lord Vishnu whom the Gods adore, For holy thought and rites austere Of penance made his dwelling here. This ancient wood was called of old Grove of the Dwarf, the mighty-souled, And when perfection he attained The grove the name of Perfect gained. Bali of yore, Virochan's son, Dominion over Indra won, And when with power his proud heart swelled, O'er the three worlds his empire held. When Bali then began a rite, The Gods and Indra in affright Sought Vishnu in this place of rest, And thus with prayers the God addressed: "Bali. Virochan's mighty son, His sacrifice has now begun: Of boundless wealth, that demon king Is bounteous to each living thing. Though suppliants flock from every side The suit of none is e'er denied. Whate'er, where'er howe'er the call, He hears the suit and gives to all. Now with thine own illusive art Perform, O Lord, the helper's part: Assume a dwarfish form, and thus From fear and danger rescue us."(167)

Then met on high in bright array, With eyes that longed to see the fray, God and Gandharva, sage and saint, With beings pure from earthly taint. Blest for good works aforetime wrought, Thus each to other spake his thought: "Now joy to Brahmans, joy to kine, And all whom world count half divine! May Raghu's offspring slay in fight Pulastya's sons who roam by night!" In words like these and more, the best Of high-souled saints their hopes expressed, Bending their eager eyes from where Car-borne with Gods they rode in air. Beneath them stretching far, they viewed The giants' death-doomed multitude. They saw where, urged with fury, far Before the host rolled Khara's car, And close beside their leader came Twelve giant peers of might and fame. Four other chiefs(463) before the rest Behind their leader Dushan pressed. Impetuous, cruel, dark, and dread, All thirsting for the fray, The hosts of giant warriors sped Onward upon their way. With eager speed they reached the spot Where dwelt the princely two,-- Like planets in a league to blot The sun and moon from view.

Now all the giant race await, Destroyed by thee, a speedy fate, Ruled by a king so cruel-souled, Foolish in heart and uncontrolled. Think not I fear the sudden blow That threatens now to lay me low: I mourn the ruin that I see Impending o'er thy host and thee. Me first perchance will Rama kill, But soon his hand thy blood will spill. I die, and if by Rama slain And not by thee, I count it gain. Soon as the hero's face I see His angry eyes will murder me, And if on her thy hands thou lay Thy friends and thou are dead this day. If with my help thou still must dare The lady from her lord to tear, Farewell to all our days are o'er, Lanka and giants are no more. In vain, in vain, an earnest friend, I warn thee, King, and pray. Thou wilt not to my prayers attend, Or heed the words I say So men, when life is fleeting fast And death's sad hour is nigh, Heedless and blinded to the last Reject advice and die."

Thus Tara questioned, and was still: Then, wearers of each shape at will, The Vanars thus with one accord Answered the Lady of their lord: "Turn, Tara turn, and half undone Save Angad thy beloved son. There Rama stands in death's disguise, And conquered Bali faints and dies. He by whose strong arm, thick and fast, Uprooted trees and rocks were cast, Lies smitten by a shaft that came Resistless as the lightning flame. When he, whose splendour once could vie With Indra's, regent of the sky, Fell by that deadly arrow, all The Vanars fled who marked his fall. Let all our chiefs their succours bring, And Angad be anointed king; For all who come of Vanar race Will serve him set in Bali's place. Or else our conquering foes to-day Within our wall will force their way, Polluting with their hostile feet The chambers of thy loved retreat. Great fear is on us, all and one. Those who have wives and who have none, They lust for power, are fierce and bold, Or hate us for the strife of old."

Still on the ground where Rama slept Their faithful watch the Vanars kept. There Angad stood o'erwhelmed with grief And many a lord and warrior chief; And, ranged in densest mass around, Their tree-armed legions held the ground. Far ranged each Vanar's eager eye, Now swept the land, now sought the sky, All fearing, if a leaf was stirred, A Rakshas in the sound they heard. The lord of Lanka in his hall, Rejoicing at his foeman's fall, Commanded and the warders came Who ever watched the Maithil dame. "Go," cried the Rakshas king, "relate To Janak's child her husband's fate. Low on the earth her Rama lies, And dark in death are Lakshman's eyes. Bring forth my car and let her ride To view the chieftains side by side. The lord to whom her fancy turned For whose dear sake my love she spurned, Lies smitten, as he fiercely led The battle, with his brother dead. Lead forth the royal lady: go Her husband's lifeless body show. Then from all doubt and terror free Her softening heart will turn to me."

Thus by the Lord of Gods addressed, Trisanku fell from fancied rest, And screaming in his swift descent, "O, save me, Hermit!" down he went. And Visvamitra heard his cry, And marked him falling from the sky, And giving all his passion sway, Cried out in fury, "Stay, O stay!" By penance-power and holy lore, Like Him who framed the worlds of yore, Seven other saints he fixed on high To star with light the southern sky. Girt with his sages forth he went, And southward in the firmament New wreathed stars prepared to set In many a sparkling coronet. He threatened, blind with rage and hate, Another Indra to create, Or, from his throne the ruler hurled, All Indraless to leave the world. Yea, borne away by passion's storm, The sage began new Gods to form. But then each Titan, God, and saint, Confused with terror, sick and faint, To high souled Visvamitra hied, And with soft words to soothe him tried: "Lord of high destiny, this king, To whom his master's curses cling, No heavenly home deserves to gain, Unpurified from curse and stain."

Clasping her husband's lifeless clay A while the weeping votaress lay, Till chamberlains removed her thence O'ercome by sorrow's violence. Then in a cask of oil they laid Him who in life the world had swayed, And finished, as the lords desired, All rites for parted souls required. The lords, all-wise, refused to burn The monarch ere his son's return; So for a while the corpse they set Embalmed in oil, and waited yet. The women heard: no doubt remained, And wildly for the king they plained. With gushing tears that drowned each eye Wildly they waved their arms on high, And each her mangling nails impressed Deep in her head and knee and breast: "Of Rama reft,--who ever spake The sweetest words the heart to take, Who firmly to the truth would cling,-- Why dost thou leave us, mighty King? How can the consorts thou hast left Widowed, of Raghu's son bereft, Live with our foe Kaikeyi near, The wicked queen we hate and fear? She threw away the king, her spite Drove Rama forth and Lakshman's might, And gentle Sita: how will she Spare any, whosoe'er it be?"

His eyes with burning wrath aglow, Satrughna, shatterer of the foe, Dragged on the ground the hump-back maid Who shrieked aloud and screamed for aid. This way and that with no remorse He dragged her with resistless force, And chains and glittering trinkets burst Lay here and there with gems dispersed, Till like the sky of Autumn shone The palace floor they sparkled on. The lord of men, supremely strong, Haled in his rage the wretch along: Where Queen Kaikeyi dwelt he came, And sternly then addressed the dame. Deep in her heart Kaikeyi felt The stabs his keen reproaches dealt, And of Satrughna's ire afraid, To Bharat flew and cried for aid. He looked and saw the prince inflamed With burning rage, and thus exclaimed: "Forgive! thine angry arm restrain: A woman never may be slain. My hand Kaikeyi's blood would spill, The sinner ever bent on ill, But Rama, long in duty tried, Would hate the impious matricide: And if he knew thy vengeful blade Had slaughtered e'en this hump-back maid, Never again, be sure, would he Speak friendly word to thee or me."

Then thronging round, the woodland deer Gazed on his form with wondering fear; A while they followed where he led, Then snuffed the tainted gale and fled. The giant, though he longed to slay The startled quarry, spared the prey, And mindful of the shape he wore To veil his nature, still forbore. Then Sita of the glorious eye, Returning from her task drew nigh; For she had sought the wood to bring Each loveliest flower of early spring. Now would the bright-eyed lady choose Some gorgeous bud with blending hues, Now plucked the mango's spray, and now The bloom from an Asoka bough. She with her beauteous form, unmeet For woodland life and lone retreat, That wondrous dappled deer beheld Gemmed with rich pearls, unparalleled, His silver hair the lady saw, His radiant teeth and lips and jaw, And gazed with rapture as her eyes Expanded in their glad surprise. And when the false deer's glances fell On her whom Rama loved so well, He wandered here and there, and cast A luminous beauty as he passed; And Janak's child with strange delight Kept gazing on the unwonted sight.

Thus was the helpless monarch stung By Queen Kaikeyi's fearless tongue, As Bali strove in vain to loose His limbs from Indra's fatal noose. Dismayed in soul and pale with fear, The monarch, like a trembling steer Between the chariot's wheel and yoke, Again to Queen Kaikeyi spoke, With sad eyes fixt in vacant stare, Gathering courage from despair: "That hand I took, thou sinful dame, With texts, before the sacred flame, Thee and thy son, I scorn and hate, And all at once repudiate. The night is fled: the dawn is near: Soon will the holy priests be here To bid me for the rite prepare That with my son the throne will share, The preparation made to grace My Rama in his royal place-- With this, e'en this, my darling for My death the funeral flood shall pour. Thou and thy son at least forbear In offerings to my shade to share, For by the plot thy guile has laid His consecration will be stayed. This very day how shall I brook To meet each subject's altered look? To mark each gloomy joyless brow That was so bright and glad but now?"

Thus spake the queen, and wept, and sighed: Then righteous Rama thus replied: "I have no power to slight or break Commandments which my father spake. I bend my head, dear lady, low, Forgive me, for I needs must go. Once Kandu, mighty saint, who made His dwelling in the forest shade, A cow--and duty's claims he knew-- Obedient to his father, slew. And in the line from which we spring, When ordered by their sire the king, Through earth the sons of Sagar cleft, And countless things of life bereft.(289) So Jamadagni's son(290) obeyed His sire, when in the wood he laid His hand upon his axe, and smote Through Renuka his mother's throat. The deeds of these and more beside. Peers of the Gods, my steps shall guide, And resolute will I fulfil My father's word, my father's will. Nor I, O Queen, unsanctioned tread This righteous path, by duty led: The road my footsteps journey o'er Was traversed by the great of yore. This high command which all accept Shall faithfully by me be kept, For duty ne'er will him forsake Who fears his sire's command to break."

What if the borrowed colours throw O'er her fine feet no rosy glow, Still with their natural tints they spread A lotus glory where they tread. In sportive grace she walks the ground And sweet her chiming anklets sound. No jewels clasp the faultless limb: She leaves them all for love of him. If in the woods her gentle eye A lion sees, or tiger nigh, Or elephant, she fears no ill For Rama's arm supports her still. No longer be their fate deplored, Nor thine, nor that of Kosal's lord, For conduct such as theirs shall buy Wide glory that can never die. For casting grief and care away, Delighting in the forest, they With joyful spirits, blithe and gay, Set forward on the ancient way Where mighty saints have led: Their highest aim, their dearest care To keep their father's honour fair, Observing still the oath he sware, They roam, on wild fruit fed." Thus with persuasive art he tried To turn her from her grief aside, By soothing fancies won. But still she gave her sorrow vent: "Ah Rama," was her shrill lament, "My love, my son, my son!"

Then o'er the lady's soul and frame A sudden fear and trembling came, When, glowing in his youthful pride, She saw the monarch by her side. Silent she sat, her eyes depressed, Her soft arms folded o'er her breast, And,--all she could,--her beauties screened From the bold gazes of the fiend. There where the wild she-demons kept Their watch around, she sighed and wept. Then, like a severed bough, she lay Prone on the bare earth in dismay. The while her thoughts on love's fleet wings Flew to her lord the best of kings. She fell upon the ground, and there Lay struggling with her wild despair, Sad as a lady born again To misery and woe and pain, Now doomed to grief and low estate, Once noble fair and delicate: Like faded light of holy lore, Like Hope when all her dreams are o'er; Like ruined power and rank debased, Like majesty of kings disgraced: Like worship foiled by erring slips, The moon that labours in eclipse; A pool with all her lilies dead, An army when its king has fled: So sad and helpless wan and worn, She lay among the fiends forlorn.

"Now giants, if your eyes have scanned Our armies, numbering every band, Marked lord and chief, and gazed their fill, Return to Ravan when ye will. If aught remain, if aught anew Ye fain would scan with closer view, Vibhishan, ready at your call, Will lead you forth and show you all. Think not of bonds and capture; fear No loss of life, no peril here: For, captive, helpless and unarmed, An envoy never should be harmed. Again to Lanka's town repair, Speed to the giant monarch there, And be these words to Ravan told, Fierce brother of the Lord of Gold: "Now, tyrant, tremble for thy sin: Call up thy friends, thy kith and kin, And let the power and might be seen Which made thee bold to steal my queen. To-morrow shall thy mournful eye Behold thy bravest warriors die, And Lanka's city, tower and wall, Struck by my fiery shafts, will fall. Then shall my vengeful blow descend Its rage on thee and thine to spend, Fierce as the fiery bolt that flew From heaven against the Danav crew, Mid those rebellious demons sent By him who rules the firmament."

The monarch heard the mournful tale: His heart was faint, his cheek was pale; His fleeting sense at length regained, In trembling tones he thus complained: "Ah me, my son, my pride: the boast And glory of the giant host. Could Lakshman's puny might defeat The foe whom Indra feared to meet? Could not thy deadly arrows split Proud Mandar's peaks, O Indrajit, And the Destroyer's self destroy? And wast thou conquered by a boy? I will not weep: thy noble deed Has blessed thee with immortal meed Gained by each hero in the skies Who fighting for his sovereign dies. Now, fearless of all meaner foes, The guardian Gods(993) will taste repose: But earth to me, with hill and plain, Is desolate, for thou art slain. Ah, whither hast thou fled, and left Thy mother, Lanka, me bereft; Left pride and state and wives behind, And lordship over all thy kind? I fondly hoped thy hand should pay Due honours on my dying day: And couldst thou, O beloved, flee And leave thy funeral rites to me? Life has no comfort left me, none, O Indrajit my son, my son."

When Ravan saw his darts repelled, With double rage his bosom swelled. He summoned, wroth but undismayed, A mightier charm to lend its aid. And, fierce as fire before the blast, A storm of missiles thick and fast, Spear, pike and javelin, mace and brand, Came hurtling from the giant's hand. But, mightier still, the arms employed By Raghu's son their force destroyed, And every dart fell dulled and spent By powers the bards of heaven had lent. With his huge mace Vibhishan slew The steeds that Ravan's chariot drew. Then Ravan hurled in deadly ire A ponderous spear that flashed like fire: But Rama's arrows checked its way, And harmless on the earth it lay, The giant seized a mightier spear, Which Death himself would shun with fear. Vibhishan with the stroke had died, But Lakshman's hand his bowstring plied, And flying arrows thick as hail Smote fiercely on the giant's mail. Then Ravan turned his aim aside, On Lakshman looked and fiercely cried: "Thou, thou again my wrath hast braved, And from his death Vibhishan saved. Now in his stead this spear receive Whose deadly point thy heart shall cleave."

As the sad tale of sin I told The hermit's grief was uncontrolled. With flooded eyes, and sorrow-faint, Thus spake the venerable saint: I stood with hand to hand applied, And listened as he spoke and sighed: "If thou, O King, hadst left unsaid By thine own tongue this tale of dread, Thy head for hideous guilt accursed Had in a thousand pieces burst. A hermit's blood by warrior spilt, In such a case, with purposed guilt, Down from his high estate would bring Even the thunder's mighty King. And he a dart who conscious sends Against the devotee who spends His pure life by the law of Heaven-- That sinner's head will split in seven. Thou livest, for thy heedless hand Has wrought a deed thou hast not planned, Else thou and all of Raghu's line Had perished by this act of thine. Now guide us," thus the hermit said, "Forth to the spot where he lies dead. Guide us, this day, O Monarch, we For the last time our son would see: The hermit dress of skin he wore Rent from his limbs distained with gore; His senseless body lying slain, His soul in Yama's dark domain."

Thus spoke the prince whose chief delight Was duty, and to aid the right: And Lakshman keenly felt the blame, And shrank within himself for shame: And then his answer thus returned, With downcast eye and cheek that burned: "Brother, I ween, to see thy face Our sire himself has sought this place." Thus Lakshman spoke and stood ashamed, And Rama saw and thus exclaimed: "It is the strong-armed monarch: he Is come, methinks, his sons to see, To bid us both the forest quit For joys for which he deems us fit: He thinks on all our care and pain, And now would lead us home again. My glorious father hence will bear Sita who claims all tender care. I see two coursers fleet as storms, Of noble breed and lovely forms. I see the beast of mountain size Who bears the king our father wise, The aged Victor, march this way In front of all the armed array. But doubt and fear within me rise, For when I look with eager eyes I see no white umbrella spread, World-famous, o'er the royal head. Now, Lakshman, from the tree descend, And to my words attention lend."

No flash of lightning lit the sky, No cloudlet marred the blue on high. The Saras(630) missed the welcome rain, The moon's full beams were bright again. Sugriva, lapped in bliss, forgot The claims of faith, or heeded not; And by alluring joys misled The path of falsehood learned to tread. In careless ease he passed each hour, And dallied in his lady's bower. Each longing of his heart was stilled, And every lofty hope fulfilled. With royal Ruma by his side, Or Tara yet a dearer bride, He spent each joyous day and night In revelry and wild delight, Like Indra whom the nymphs entice To taste the joys of Paradise. The power to courtiers' hands resigned, To all their acts his eyes were blind. All doubt, all fear he cast aside And lived with pleasure for his guide. But sage Hanuman, firm and true, Whose heart the lore of Scripture knew, Well trained to meet occasion, trained In all by duty's law ordained, Strove with his prudent speech to find Soft access to the monarch's mind. He, skilled in every gentle art Of eloquence that wins the heart, Sugriva from his trance to wake, His salutary counsel spake:

Then flashed the giant's eye with fire Like that which lights the funeral pyre. He bade his bravest Kinkars(871) speed And to his feet the spoiler lead. Forth from the palace, at his hest, Twice forty thousand warriors pressed. Burning for battle, strong and fierce, With clubs to crush and swords to pierce, They saw Hanuman near a porch, And, thick as moths around a torch, Rushed on the foe with wild attacks Of mace and club and battle-axe. As round him pressed the Rakshas crowd, The wondrous monkey roared aloud, That birds fell headlong from the sky: Then spake he with a mighty cry: "Long life to Dasaratha's heir, And Lakshman, ever-glorious pair! Long life to him who rules our race, Preserved by noblest Rama's grace! I am the slave of Kosal's king,(872) Whose wondrous deeds the minstrels sing. Hanuman I, the Wind-God's seed: Beneath this arm the foemen bleed. I fear not, unapproached in might, A thousand Ravan's ranged for fight, Although in furious hands they rear The hill and tree for sword and spear, I will, before the giants' eyes, Their city and their king chastise; And, having communed with the dame, Depart in triumph as I came."

Then fierce the giant's fury blazed As on Hanuman's form he gazed, And shaken by each wild surmise He spake aloud with flashing eyes: "Can this be Nandi(882) standing here, The mighty one whom all revere? Who once on high Kailasa's hill Pronounced the curse that haunts me still? Or is the woodland creature one Of Asur race, or Bali's(883) son? The wretch with searching question try: Learn who he is, and whence; and why He marred the glory of the grove, And with my captains fiercely strove." Prahasta heard his lord's behest, And thus the Vanar chief addressed: "O monkey stranger be consoled: Fear not, and let thy heart be bold. If thou by Indra's mandate sent Thy steps to Lanka's isle hast bent, With fearless words the cause explain, And freedom thou shalt soon regain. Or if thou comest as a spy Despatched by Vishnu in the sky, Or sent by Yama, or the Lord Of Riches, hast our town explored; Proved by the prowess thou hast shown No monkey save in form alone; Speak boldly all the truth, and be Released from bonds, unharmed and free. But falsehood spoken to our king Swift punishment of death will bring."

Up sprang the Vanars from the ground And listened to the wondrous sound Of hurtling arm and thigh as through The region of the air he flew, Loud as the wind, when tempests rave, Roars in the prison of the cave. From crag to crag, from height to height; They bounded in their mad delight, And when he touched the mountain's crest, With reverent welcome round him pressed. They brought him of their woodland fruits, They brought him of the choicest roots, And laughed and shouted in their glee The noblest of their chiefs to see. Nor Hanuman delayed to greet Sage Jambavan with reverence meet; To Angad and the chiefs he bent For age and rank preeminent, And briefly spoke: "These eyes have seen, These lips addressed, the Maithil queen." They sat beneath the waving trees, And Angad spoke in words like these: "O noblest of the Vanar kind For valour power and might combined, To thee triumphant o'er the foe Our hopes, our lives and all we owe. O faithful heart in perils tried, Which toil nor fear could turn aside, Thy deed the lady will restore, And Rama's heart will ache no more."(890)

With wondrous power and might and skill The giant fought with Rama still. Each at his foe his chariot drove, And still for death or victory strove. The warriors' steeds together dashed, And pole with pole reechoing clashed. Then Rama launching dart on dart Made Ravan's coursers swerve and start. Nor was the lord of Lanka slow To rain his arrows on the foe, Who showed, by fiery points assailed, No trace of pain, nor shook nor quailed. Dense clouds of arrows Rama shot With that strong arm which rested not, And spear and mace and club and brand Fell in dire rain from Ravan's hand. The storm of missiles fiercely cast Stirred up the oceans with its blast, And Serpent-Gods and fiends who dwell Below were troubled by the swell. The earth with hill and plain and brook And grove and garden reeled and shook: The very sun grew cold and pale, And horror stilled the rising gale. God and Gandharva, sage and saint Cried out, with grief and terror faint: "O may the prince of Raghu's line Give peace to Brahmans and to kine, And, rescuing the worlds, o'erthrow The giant king our awful foe."

Her eyes the Maithil lady raised And on the monkey speaker gazed. She looked, and trembling at the sight Wept bitter tears in wild affright. She shrank a while with fear distraught, Then, nerved again, the lady thought: "Is this a dream mine eyes have seen, This creature, by our laws unclean? O, may the Gods keep Rama, still, And Lakshman, and my sire, from ill! It is no dream: I have not slept, But, trouble-worn, have watched and wept Afar from that dear lord of mine For whom in ceaseless woe I pine, No art may soothe my wild distress Or lull me to forgetfulness. I see but him: my lips can frame No syllable but Rama's name. Each sight I see, each sound I hear, Brings Rama to mine eye or ear, The wish was in my heart, and hence The sweet illusion mocked my sense. 'Twas but a phantom of the mind, And yet the voice was soft and kind. Be glory to the Eternal Sire,(848) Be glory to the Lord of Fire, The mighty Teacher in the skies,(849) And Indra with his thousand eyes, And may they grant the truth to be E'en as the words that startled me."

Red flashed his eyes with angry glow: He stood and grasped his mighty bow, Terrific as the fire of doom Whose quenchless flames the world consume. His clanging cord the archer drew, And swift the fiery arrows flew Fierce as the flashing levin sent By him who rules the firmament. Down through the startled waters sped Each missile with its flaming head. The foamy billows rose and sank, And dashed upon the trembling bank. Sea monsters of tremendous form With crash and roar of thunder storm. Still the wild waters rose and fell Crowned with white foam and pearl and shell. Each serpent, startled from his rest, Raised his fierce eyes and glowing crest. And prisoned Danavs(933) where they dwelt In depths below the terror felt. Again upon his string he laid A flaming shaft, but Lakshman stayed His arm, with gentle reasoning tried To soothe his angry mood, and cried: "Brother, reflect: the wise control The rising passions of the soul. Let Ocean grant, without thy threat, The boon on which thy heart is set. That gracious lord will ne'er refuse When Rama son of Raghu sues." He ceased: and voices from the air Fell clear and loud, Spare, Rama, spare.

She, by his awful curse possessed, And mad with rage that fills her breast, Has on this land her fury dealt Where once the saint Agastya dwelt. Go, Rama, smite this monster dead, The wicked plague, of power so dread, And further by this deed of thine The good of Brahmans and of kine. Thy hand alone can overthrow, In all the worlds, this impious foe. Nor let compassion lead thy mind To shrink from blood of womankind; A monarch's son must ever count The people's welfare paramount, And whether pain or joy he deal Dare all things for his subjects' weal; Yea, if the deed bring praise or guilt, If life be saved or blood be spilt: Such, through all time, should be the care Of those a kingdom's weight who bear. Slay, Rama, slay this impious fiend, For by no law her life is screened. So Manthara, as bards have told, Virochan's child, was slain of old By Indra, when in furious hate She longed the earth to devastate. So Kavya's mother, Bhrigu's wife, Who loved her husband as her life, When Indra's throne she sought to gain, By Vishnu's hand of yore was slain. By these and high-souled kings beside, Struck down, have lawless women died."

A captive in the snare of truth, Weeping, distressed with woe and ruth, Thus spake the monarch, while the queen Kaikeyi urged him on unseen: "Go then, O Rama, and begin Thy course unvext by fear and sin: Go, my beloved son, and earn Success, and joy, and safe return. So fast the bonds of duty bind. O Raghu's son, thy truthful mind, That naught can turn thee back, or guide Thy will so strongly fortified. But O, a little longer stay, Nor turn thy steps this night away, That I one little day---alas! One only---with my son may pass. Me and thy mother do not slight, But stay, my son, with me to-night; With every dainty please thy taste, And seek to-morrow morn the waste. Hard is thy task, O Raghu's son, Dire is the toil thou wilt not shun, Far to the lonely wood to flee, And leave thy friends for love of me. I swear it by my truth, believe, For thee, my son, I deeply grieve, Misguided by the traitress dame With hidden guile like smouldering flame. Now, by her wicked counsel stirred, Thou fain wouldst keep my plighted word. No marvel that my eldest born Would hold me true when I have sworn."

She, peerless in her form and face And rich in every gentle grace, Is worthy bride, O King, for thee, As thou art meet her lord to be. I even I, will bring the bride In triumph to her lover's side-- This beauty fairer than the rest, With rounded limb and heaving breast. Each wound upon my face I owe To cruel Lakshman's savage blow. But thou, O brother, shalt survey Her moonlike loveliness to-day, And Kama's piercing shafts shall smite Thine amorous bosom at the sight. If in thy breast the longing rise To make thine own the beauteous prize, Up, let thy better foot begin The journey and the treasure win. If, giant Lord, thy favouring eyes Regard the plan which I advise, Up, cast all fear and doubt away And execute the words I say Come, giant King, this treasure seek, For thou art strong and they are weak. Let Sita of the faultless frame Be borne away and be thy dame. Thy host in Janasthan who dwelt Forth to the battle hied. And by the shafts which Rama dealt They perished in their pride. Dushan and Khara breathe no more, Laid low upon the plain. Arise, and ere the day be o'er Take vengeance for the slain."

"Ah me, ah me, my days are told: O see me in the giant's hold. Fly, son of Raghu, swiftly flee, And thy dear self from danger free. Me to the fiend an offering give; Fly at thine ease thyself and live. Thou, great Kakutstha's son, I ween, Wilt find ere long thy Maithil queen, And when thou holdest, throned again, Thine old hereditary reign, With servants prompt to do thy will, O think upon thy brother still." As thus the trembling Lakshman cried, The dauntless Rama thus replied: "Brother, from causeless dread forbear. A chief like thee should scorn despair." He spoke to soothe his wild alarm: Then fierce Kabandha(517) long of arm, Among the Danavs(518) first and best, The sons of Raghu thus addressed: "What men are you, whose shoulders show Broad as a bull's, with sword and bow, Who roam this dark and horrid place, Brought by your fate before my face? Declare by what occasion led These solitary wilds you tread, With swords and bows and shafts to pierce, Like bulls whose horns are strong and fierce. Why have you sought this forest land Where wild with hunger's pangs I stand? Now as your steps my path have crossed Esteem your lives already lost."

There Dhumra, mighty lord, the dread Of foes, his ursine legions led. There Panas, first for warlike fame, With twenty million warriors came. There glorious Nila, dark of hue, Arrayed his countless troops in view. There moved lord Gavaya brave and bold, Resplendent like a hill of gold, And near him Darimukha stood With millions from the hill and wood And Dwivid famed for strength and speed, And Mamda, both of Asvin seed. There Gaja, strong and glorious, led The countless troops around him spread, And Jambavan(657) the king whose sway The bears delighted to obey, With swarming myriads onward pressed True to his lord Sugriva's hest; And princely Ruman, dear to fame, Led millions whom no hosts could tame, All these and many a chief beside(658) Came onward fierce in warlike pride. They covered all the plain, and still Pressed forward over wood and hill. In rows for many a league around They rested on the grassy ground; Or to Sugriva made their way, Like clouds about the Lord of Day, And to the king their proud heads bent In power and might preeminent. Sugriva then to Rama sped, And raised his reverent hands, and said That every chief from coast to coast Was present with his warrior host.