Ramayana on Leadership

Sumantra, urged to utmost speed, Yoked to the car each generous steed, And then, with hand to hand applied, He came before the chief and cried: "Hail, Prince, whom mighty arms adorn, Hail, bravest of the chariot-borne! With Sita and thy brother thou Mayst mount: the car is ready now."

These words he heard the peasants say, Who dwelt in hamlets by the way, And, lord of all the realm by right, Through Kosala pursued his flight. Through the auspicious flood, at last, Of Vedasruti's stream he passed, And onward to the place he sped By Saint Agastya tenanted. Still on for many an hour he hied, And crossed the stream whose cooling tide Rolls onward till she meets the sea, The herd-frequented Gomati.(321) Borne by his rapid horses o'er, He reached that river's further shore. And Syandika's, whose swan-loved stream Resounded with the peacock's scream. Then as he journeyed on his road To his Videhan bride he showed The populous land which Manu old To King Ikshvaku gave to hold. The glorious prince, the lord of men Looked on the charioteer, and then Voiced like a wild swan, loud and clear, He spake these words and bade him hear: "When shall I, with returning feet My father and my mother meet? When shall I lead the hunt once more In bloomy woods on Sarju's shore? Most eagerly I long to ride Urging the chase on Sarju's side. For royal saints have seen no blame In this, the monarch's matchless game."

Filled with dark fear and eager eyes, Anxiety and wild surmise; Echoing with the cries of grief Of sorrowing friends who mourned their chief, Dejected, pale with deep distress, Hurled from their height of happiness: Such was the look the palace wore Where lay the king who breathed no more.

With flattering hope of triumph moved The giant king that plan approved, Pondered the counsel in his breast, And then Akampan thus addressed: "Forth in my car I go at morn, None but the driver with me borne, And this fair Sita will I bring Back to my city triumphing."

He spoke, and Hanuman the wise Cast off his mendicant disguise, And took again his Vanar form, Son of the God of wind and storm. High on his ample back in haste Raghu's heroic sons he placed, And turned with rapid steps to find The sovereign of the Vanar kind.

Sugriva thus with gentle art And sweet words soothed the mourner's heart, Who brushed off with his mantle's hem Tears from the eyes bedewed with them. Sugriva's words were not in vain, And Rama was himself again, Around the king his arms he threw And thus began his speech anew:

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."

Thus Ravan spake, the giant king, And loosed the arrow from the string. It pierced, with direst fury sped, The Vanar with its flaming head. His father's might, his power innate Preserved him from the threatened fate. Upon his knees he fell, distained With streams of blood, but life remained.

Then Gadhi's son, when these had failed, With Brahma's dart his foe assailed. The Gods, with Indra at their head, And Nagas, quailed disquieted, And saints and minstrels, when they saw The king that awful weapon draw; And the three worlds were filled with dread, And trembled as the missile sped.

When the sad queen had ended so, She sank, insatiate in her woe, And prostrate lay upon the ground, While her faint voice by sobs was drowned. When all the ladies in despair Saw Queen Kausalya wailing there, And the poor king oppressed with pain, They flocked around and wept again.

Thus pressed, the queen began to tell The story as each thing befell, And gave her son in words like these, The mournful news she meant to please: "The prince is gone in hermit dress To Dandak's mighty wilderness, And Lakshman brave and Sita share The wanderings of the exile there."

It stretched a hundred leagues and made For hermit bands a welcome shade. Thither the feathered king of yore An elephant and tortoise bore, And lighted on a bough to eat The captives of his taloned feet. The bough unable to sustain The crushing weight and sudden strain, Loaded with sprays and leaves of spring Gave way beneath the feathered king. Under the shadow of the tree Dwelt many a saint and devotee, Ajas, the sons of Brahma's line, Mashas, Marichipas divine. Vaikhanasas, and all the race Of Balakhilyas, loved the place. But pitying their sad estate The feathered monarch raised the weight Of the huge bough, and bore away The loosened load and captured prey. A hundred leagues away he sped, Then on his monstrous booty fed, And with the bough he smote the lands Where dwell the wild Nishada bands. High joy was his because his deed From jeopardy the hermits freed. That pride for great deliverance wrought A double share of valour brought. His soul conceived the high emprise To snatch the Amrit from the skies. He rent the nets of iron first, Then through the jewel chamber burst, And bore the drink of heaven away That watched in Indra's palace lay.

The Rakshas guard was summoned: all The monstrous crew obeyed the call, And hastened to the king to take The orders which he fiercely spake: "See that ye guard her well, and tame, Like some wild thing, the stubborn dame, Until her haughty soul be bent By mingled threat and blandishment."(837)

Before his king with reverence due Dhumraksha bowed him, and withdrew. Around him at his summons came Fierce legions led by chiefs of fame. Well armed with sword and spear and mace, They hurried to the gathering place, And rushed to battle, borne at speed By elephant and car and steed.

To Matali, whom Indra sent, His head the son of Raghu bent: And he with fiery steeds who clove The clouds again to Swarga drove. Round King Sugriva brave and true His arms in rapture Rama threw, Looked on the host with joy and pride, And thus to noble Lakshman cried:

But Rama stood in pensive mood, And gathering tears his eyes bedewed. His sad looks sought the ground: he sighed And thus to King Vibhishan cried: "Let Sita bathe and tire her head And hither to my sight be led In raiment sweet with precious scent, And gay with golden ornament."

The truthful King who loved to keep The law profound as Ocean's deep, And stainless as the dark blue sky, Thus to Sumantra made reply: "Go then, Sumantra, go and call My wives and ladies one and all. Drawn round me shall they fill the place When I behold my Rama's face."

Cheered by the words that Rama spoke, Joy in the Vanar's breast awoke, And, as his friendly mood he knew, His thoughts to King Sugriva flew: "Again," he mused, "my high-souled lord Shall rule, to kingly state restored; Since one so mighty comes to save, And freely gives the help we crave."

A score of warriors(914) forward sprang, And loud the clashing iron rang Of mace and axe and spear and sword, As thus they spake unto their lord: "Their king Sugriva will we slay, And Raghu's sons, ere close of day, And strike the wretch Hanuman down, The spoiler of our golden town."

The captain of the hosts obeyed, The troops with prudent skill arrayed; Then to the hall again he hied, And stood before the king and cried: "Each inlet to the town is closed Without, within, are troops disposed. With fearless heart thine aim pursue And do the deed thou hast in view."

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."

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.

No word the giant king returned: His eyes with flames of fury burned. His arm was stretched, his bow was bent, And swift his fiery shafts were sent. Red torrents from the Vanar flowed: Then Rama near to Ravan strode, And with keen darts that never failed, The chariot of the king assailed. With surest aim his arrows flew: The driver and the steeds he slew. And shattered with the pointed steel Car, flag, and pole and yoke and wheel. As Indra hurls his bolt to smite Mount Meru's heaven-ascending height, So Rama with a flaming dart Struck Lanka's monarch near the heart, Who reeled and fell beneath the blow And from loose fingers dropped his bow. Bright as the sun, with crescent head, From Rama's bow an arrow sped, And from his forehead, proud no more, Cleft the bright coronet he wore. Then Rama stood by Ravan's side And to the conquered giant cried: "Well hast thou fought: thine arm has slain Strong heroes of the Vanar train. I will not strike or slay thee now, For weary, faint with fight art thou. To Lanka's town thy footsteps bend, And there the night securely spend. To-morrow come with car and bow, And then my prowess shalt thou know."

Now ere the saint resolve to bring Destruction on each living thing, Let us appease, while yet we may, Him bright as fire, like fire to slay. Yea, as the fiery flood of Fate Lays all creation desolate, He o'er the conquered Gods may reign: O, grant him what he longs to gain."

Then slowly gathering sense and strength The weeping hero rose at length, And words like these to Guha spake, That bade Kausalya comfort take: "Where lodged the prince that night? and where Lakshman the brave, and Sita fair? Show me the couch whereon he lay, Tell me the food he ate, I pray."

"What further deed remains to do To vex the Rakshas king anew? The beauty of his grove is marred, Killed are the bravest of his guard. The captains of his host are slain; But forts and palaces remain, Swift is the work and light the toil Each fortress of the foe to spoil."

Bound by a solemn vow I sware That all my saving help should share Who sought me in distress and cried, "Thou art my hope, and none beside." Then go, I pray thee, Vanar King, Vibhishan to my presence bring, Yea, were he Ravan's self, my vow Forbids me to reject him now."

When Lanka's lord had left the queen, The head and bow no more were seen. The giant king his nobles eyed, And, terrible as Yama, cried: "O faithful lords, the time is come: Gather our hosts with beat of drum. Nigh to the town our foeman draws: Be prudent, nor reveal the cause."

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

Thus in their woe, like kine bereaved Of their young calves,(287) the ladies grieved, And ever as they wept and wailed With keen reproach the king assailed. Their lamentation, mixed with tears, Smote with new grief the monarch's ears, Who, burnt with woe too great to bear, Fell on his couch and fainted there.

And say to Bharat: "See thou treat The queens with all observance meet: What care the king receives, the same Show thou alike to every dame. Obedience to thy father's will Who chooses thee the throne to fill, Will earn for thee a store of bliss Both in the world to come and this.' "

Long may he wander, rags his wear, Doomed in his hand a skull to bear, And like an idiot beg his bread, Who gave consent when Rama fled. His sin who holy rites forgets, Asleep when shows the sun and sets, A load upon his soul shall lie Whose will allowed the prince to fly. His sin who loves his Master's dame, His, kindler of destructive flame, His who betrays his trusting friend Shall, mingled all, on him descend. By him no reverence due be paid To blessed God or parted shade: May sire and mother's sacred name In vain from him obedience claim. Ne'er may he go where dwell the good, Nor win their fame and neighbourhood, But lose all hopes of bliss to-day, Who willed the prince should flee away. May he deceive the poor and weak Who look to him and comfort seek, Betray the suppliants who complain, And make the hopeful hope in vain. Long may his wife his kiss expect, And pine away in cold neglect. May he his lawful love despise, And turn on other dames his eyes, Fool, on forbidden joys intent, Whose will allowed the banishment. His sin who deadly poison throws To spoil the water as it flows, Lay on the wretch its burden dread Who gave consent when Rama fled."(351)

Thus spoke the prince, who lent a grace To fortune, pride of Raghu's race; Then in that spot whose pleasant shade Gave store of fruit, content he stayed. With Lakshman and his Maithil spouse He spent his day's neath sheltering boughs, As happy as a God on high Lives in his mansion in the sky.

As thus the fiend's hot fury blazed, His trembling hands Akampan raised, And with a voice which fear made weak, Permission craved his tale to speak. King Ravan gave the leave he sought, And bade him tell the news he brought. His courage rose, his voice grew bold, And thus his mournful tale he told:

Then through the gates Nikumbha hied, And Kumbha by his brother's side, Sent forth--the bravest and the best-- To battle by the king's behest. There fought the chiefs in open field, And Angad fell and Dwivid reeled. Sugriva saw: by rage impelled He crushed the bow which Kumbha held. About his foe Sugriva wound His arms, and, heaving from the ground The giant hurled him o'er the bank; And deep beneath the sea he sank. Like mandar hill with furious swell Up leapt the waters where he fell. Again he rose: he sprang to land And raised on high his threatening hand: Full on Sugriva's chest it came And shook the Vanar's massy frame, But on the wounded bone he broke His wrist--so furious was the stroke. With force that naught could stay or check, Sugriva smote him neath the neck. The fierce blow crashed through flesh and bone And Kumbha lay in death o'erthrown. Nikumbha saw his brother die, And red with fury flashed his eye. He dashed with mighty sway and swing His axe against the Vanar king; But shattered on that living rock It split in fragments at the shock. Sugriva, rising to the blow, Raised his huge hand and smote his foe. And in the dust the giant lay Gasping in blood his soul away.

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

A forest life more joys may bring Than those that wait upon a king, Now though her arts successful mar My consecrating rite, Let not the youngest queen too far Thy jealous fear excite. Nor let one thought suggesting ill Upon our father fall, But let thy heart remember still That Fate is lord of all."

Vibhishan saw his brother slain, Nor could his heart its woe contain. O'er the dead king he sadly bent And mourned him with a loud lament: "O hero, bold and brave," he cried, "Skilled in all arms, in battle tried. Spoiled of thy crown, with limbs outspread, Why wilt thou press thy gory bed? Why slumber on the earth's cold breast, When sumptuous couches woo to rest? Ah me, my brother over bold, Thine is the fate my heart foretold: But love and pride forbade to hear The friend who blamed thy wild career. Fallen is the sun who gave us light, Our lordly moon is veiled in night. Our beacon fire is dead and cold A hundred waves have o'er it rolled. What could his light and fire avail Against Lord Rama's arrowy hail? Woe for the giants' royal tree, Whose stately height was fair to see. His buds were deeds of kingly grace, His bloom the sons who decked his race. With rifled bloom and mangled bough The royal tree lies prostrate now." "Nay, idly mourn not," Rama cried, "The warrior king has nobly died, Intrepid hero, firm through all, So fell he as the brave should fall; And ill beseems it chiefs like us To weep for those who perish thus. Be firm: thy causeless grief restrain, And pay the dues that yet remain."

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

The good will die: the crime of kings Destruction on the people brings: The sinless die, as in the lake The fish must perish with the snake. The prostrate giants thou wilt see Slain for this folly wrought by thee, Their bodies bright with precious scent And sheen of heavenly ornament; Or see the remnant of thy train Seek refuge far, when help is vain And with their wives, or widowed, fly To every quarter of the sky; Thy mournful eyes, where'er they turn, Will see thy stately city burn, When royal homes with fire are red, And arrowy nets around are spread. A sin that tops all sins in shame Is outrage to another's dame, A thousand wives thy palace fill, And countless beauties wait thy will. O rest contented with thine own, Nor let thy race be overthrown. If thou, O King, hast still delight In rank and wealth and power and might, In noble wives, in troops of friends, In all that royal state attends, I warn thee, cast not all away, Nor challenge Rama to the fray. If deaf to every friendly prayer, Thou still wilt seek the strife, And from the side of Rama tear His lovely Maithil wife, Soon will thy life and empire end Destroyed by Rama's bow, And thou, with kith and kin and friend, To Yama's realm must go."

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

"Where is the dauntless heart that free From terror's chilling touch can see Two stranger warriors, strong as those, Equipped with swords and shafts and bows, With mighty arms and large full eyes, Like glorious children of the skies? Bali my foe, I ween, has sent These chiefs to aid his dark intent. Hence doubt and fear disturb me still, For thousands serve a monarch's will, In borrowed garb they come, and those Who walk disguised are counted foes. With secret thoughts they watch their time, And wound fond hearts that fear no crime. My foe in state affairs is wise, And prudent kings have searching eyes. By other hands they strike the foe: By meaner tools the truth they know. Now to those stranger warriors turn, And, less than king, their purpose learn. Mark well the trick and look of each; Observe his form and note his speech. With care their mood and temper sound, And, if their minds be friendly found, With courteous looks and words begin Their confidence and love to win. Then as my friend and envoy speak, And question what the strangers seek. Ask why equipped with shaft and bow Through this wild maze of wood they go. If they, O chief, at first appear Pure of all guile, in heart sincere, Detect in speech and look the sin And treachery that lurk within."

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

He spoke: and Bharat thus replied: "If, false to every claim beside, I ne'er in kingly duties fail, What will my royal life avail? Still should the custom be observed, From which our line has never swerved, Which to the younger son ne'er gives The kingdom while the elder lives. Now to Ayodhya rich and fair With me, O Raghu's son, repair, And to protect and gladden all Our house, thyself as king install. A king the world's opinion deems A man: to me a God he seems, Whose life in virtuous thoughts and deeds The lives of other men exceeds. When I in distant Kekaya stayed, And thou hadst sought the forest shade, Our father died, the saints' delight, So constant in each holy rite. Scarce with thy wife and Lakshman thou Hadst journeyed forth to keep the vow, When mourning for his son, forspent, To heavenly rest the monarch went. Then up, O lord of men, away! His funeral rites of water pay: I and Satrughna, ere we came, Neglected not the sacred claim. But in the spirit-world, they say, That gift alone is fresh for aye Which best beloved hands have poured; And thou his dearest art, my lord. For thee he longed, for thee he grieved, His every thought on thee was bent, And crushed by woe, of thee bereaved, He thought of thee as hence he went."

Then with the pupil Lakshman went Across the hermit settlement, And showed him Rama where he stood With Janak's daughter in the wood. The pupil then his message spake Which the kind hermit bade him take; Then led the honoured Rama thence And brought him in with reverence. As nigh the royal Rama came With Lakshman and the Maithil dame, He viewed the herds of gentle deer Roaming the garden free from fear. As through the sacred grove he trod He viewed the seat of many a God, Brahma and Agni,(429) Sun and Moon, And His who sends each golden boon;(430) Here Vishnu's stood, there Bhaga's(431) shrine, And there Mahendra's, Lord divine; Here His who formed this earthly frame,(432) His there from whom all beings came.(433) Vayu's,(434) and His who loves to hold The great noose, Varun(435) mighty-souled: Here was the Vasus'(436) shrine to see, Here that of sacred Gayatri,(437) The king of serpents(438) here had place, And he who rules the feathered race.(439) Here Kartikeya,(440) warrior lord, And there was Justice King adored. Then with disciples girt about The mighty saint himself came out: Through fierce devotion bright as flame Before the rest the Master came: And then to Lakshman, fortune blest, Rama these hasty words addressed: "Behold, Agastya's self draws near, The mighty saint, whom all revere: With spirit raised I meet my lord With richest wealth of penance stored."

Then on the king her back she turned, And answered thus the prayer she spurned: "Turn, Ravan, turn thee from thy sin; Seek virtue's paths and walk therein. To others dames be honour shown; Protect them as thou wouldst thine own. Taught by thyself, from wrong abstain Which, wrought on thee, thy heart would pain.(832) Beware: this lawless love of thine Will ruin thee and all thy line; And for thy sin, thy sin alone, Will Lanka perish overthrown. Dream not that wealth and power can sway My heart from duty's path to stray. Linked like the Day-God and his shine, I am my lord's and he is mine. Repent thee of thine impious deed; To Rama's side his consort lead. Be wise; the hero's friendship gain, Nor perish in his fury slain. Go, ask the God of Death to spare, Or red bolt flashing through the air, But look in vain for spell or charm To stay my Rama's vengeful arm. Thou, when the hero bends his bow, Shalt hear the clang that heralds woe, Loud as the clash when clouds are rent And Indra's bolt to earth is sent. Then shall his furious shafts be sped, Each like a snake with fiery head, And in their flight shall hiss and flame Marked with the mighty archer's name.(833) Then in the fiery deluge all Thy giants round their king shall fall."

He sought, within, his charioteer, And cried "Again bring Rama here." To Rama's home Sumantra hied Again to be the prince's guide. His coming, told to Rama's ear, Suggested anxious doubt and fear. He bade the messenger be led That instant in, and thus he said: "Tell me the cause, omitting naught, Why thou again my house hast sought."

As thus they spoke, Sumantra, tried In counsel, to the chiefs replied, Gathered from lands on every side: "To Rama's house I swiftly drave, For so the king his mandate gave. Our aged lord and Rama too In honour high hold all of you: I in your words (be long your days!) Will ask him why he thus delays."

The Brahmans on the prince's head King-making drops shall quickly shed, And Sita, Earth, and Fortune share The glories which await the heir. For him, when forth his chariot swept, The crowd that thronged Ayodhya wept, With agonizing woe distressed. With him in hermit's mantle dressed In guise of Sita Lakshmi went, And none his glory may prevent. Yea, naught to him is high or hard, Before whose steps, to be his guard, Lakshman, the best who draws the bow, With spear, shaft, sword rejoiced to go. His wanderings in the forest o'er, Thine eyes shall see thy son once more, Quit thy faint heart, thy grief dispel, For this, O Queen, is truth I tell. Thy son returning, moonlike, thence, Shall at thy feet do reverence, And, blest and blameless lady, thou Shalt see his head to touch them bow, Yea, thou shalt see thy son made king When he returns with triumphing, And how thy happy eyes will brim With tears of joy to look on him! Thou, blameless lady, shouldst the whole Of the sad people here console: Why in thy tender heart allow This bitter grief to harbour now? As the long banks of cloud distil Their water when they see the hill, So shall the drops of rapture run From thy glad eyes to see thy son Returning, as he lowly bends To greet thee, girt by all his friends."

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

Rava, the giants' mighty king, Heard wise Maricha's questioning, And told with ready answer, taught In eloquence, the cause he sought: "My guards, the bravest of my band, Are slain by Rama's vigorous hand, And Janasthan, that feared no hate Of foes, is rendered desolate. Come, aid me in the plan I lay To steal the conqueror's wife away."

Beyond that spot your way pursue: A noble mountain shall ye view, Named Rishabh, like a mighty bull, With gems made bright and beautiful. All trees of sandal flourish there Of heavenly fragrance, rich and rare. But, though they tempt your longing eyes, Avoid to touch them, and be wise. For Rohitas, a guardian band Of fierce Gandharvas, round them stand, Who five bright sovereign lords(712) obey, In glory like the God of Day. Here by good deeds a home is won With shapes like fire, the moon, the sun. Here they who merit heaven by worth Dwell on the confines of the earth. There stay: beyond it, dark and drear, Lies the departed spirits' sphere, And, girt with darkness, far from bliss, Is Yama's sad metropolis.(713) So far, my lords, o'er land and sea Your destined course is plain and free. Beyond your steps you may not set, Where living thing ne'er journeyed yet. With utmost care these realms survey, And all you meet upon the way. And, when the lady's course is traced, Back to your king, O Vanars, haste. And he who tells me he has seen. After long search, the Maithil queen, Shall gain a noble guerdon: he In power and bliss shall equal me. Dear as my very life, above His fellows in his master's love; I call him, yea though stained with crime. My kinsman from that happy time."

Away, away the Vanars sped Like locusts o'er the land outspread. To northern realms where rising high The King of Mountains cleaves the sky, Fierce Satabal with vast array Of Vanar warriors led the way. Far southward, as his lord decreed, Wise Hanuman, the Wind-God's seed, With Angad his swift way pursued, And Tara's warlike multitude, Strong Vinata with all his band Betook him to the eastern land, And brave Sushen in eager quest Sped swiftly to the gloomy west. Each Vanar chieftain sought with speed The quarter by his king decreed, While from his legions rose on high The shout and boast and battle cry: "We will restore the dame and beat The robber down beneath our feet. My arm alone shall win the day From Ravan met in single fray, Shall rob the robber of his life, And rescue Rama's captive wife All trembling in her fear and woe. Here, comrades, rest: no farther go: For I will vanquish hell, and she Shall by this arm again be free. The rooted mountains will I rend, The mightiest trees will break and bend, Earth to her deep foundations cleave, And make the calm sea throb and heave. A hundred leagues from steep to steep In desperate bound my feet shall leap. My steps shall tread unchecked and free, Through woods, o'er land and hill and sea, Range as they list from flood to fell, And wander through the depths of hell."

Then, turning to a Rakshas slave, The ruthless king his mandate gave, And straight Vidyujjihva who bore The head still wet with dripping gore, The arrows and the mighty bow, Bent down before his master low. "Vidyujjihva," cried Ravan, "place The head before the lady's face, And let her see with weeping eyes That low in death her husband lies."

A while they sat, each lip compressed, Then Bharat thus his chief addressed: "My mother here was made content; To me was given the government. This now, my lord, I yield to thee: Enjoy it, from all trouble free. Like a great bridge the floods have rent, Impetuous in their wild descent, All other hands but thine in vain Would strive the burthen to maintain. In vain the ass with steeds would vie, With Tarkshya,(381) birds that wing the sky; So, lord of men, my power is slight To rival thine imperial might. Great joys his happy days attend On whom the hopes of men depend, But wretched is the life he leads Who still the aid of others needs. And if the seed a man has sown, With care and kindly nurture grown, Rear its huge trunk and spring in time Too bulky for a dwarf to climb, Yet, with perpetual blossom gay, No fruit upon its boughs display, Ne'er can that tree, thus nursed in vain, Approval of the virtuous gain. The simile is meant to be Applied, O mighty-armed, to thee, Because, our lord and leader, thou Protectest not thy people now. O, be the longing wish fulfilled Of every chief of house and guild, To see again their sun-bright lord Victorious to his realm restored! As thou returnest through the crowd Let roars of elephants be loud. And each fair woman lift her voice And in her new-found king rejoice."

He ceased: and Rama gave assent, And said, with eyes on Sita bent: "O Princess, thou hast heard with me This counsel of the devotee: Now that her touch thy soul may bless, Approach the saintly votaress: Come to the venerable dame, Far known by Anasuya's name: The mighty things that she has done High glory in the world have won."

Then Sarama replied: "I go To learn the purpose of thy foe, Soon by thy side again to stand And tell thee what the king has planned." She sped, she heard with eager ears The tyrant speak his hopes and fears, Where, gathered at their master's call, The nobles filled the council hall; Then swiftly, to her promise true, Back to the Asoka grove she flew. The lady on the grassy ground, Longing for her return, she found; Who with a gentle smile, to greet The envoy, led her to a seat. Through her worn frame a shiver ran As Sarama her tale began: "There stood the royal mother: she Besought her son to set thee free, And to her counsel, tears and prayers, The elder nobles added theirs: "O be the Maithil queen restored With honour to her angry lord, Let Janasthan's unhappy fight Be witness of the hero's might. Hanuman o'er the waters came And looked upon the guarded dame. Let Lanka's chiefs who fought and fell The prowess of the leader tell." In vain they sued, in vain she wept, His purpose still unchanged he kept, As clings the miser to his gold, He would not loose thee from his hold. No, never till in death he lies, Will Lanka's lord release his prize. Soon slain by Rama's arrows all The giants with their king will fall, And Rama to his home will lead His black-eyed queen from bondage freed."

Loud as the angry ocean's roar When wild waves lash the rocky shore, Ten thousand thousand throats upsent A shout that tore the firmament, And Lanka with each grove and brook And tower and wall and rampart shook. The giants heard, and were appalled: Then Raghu's son to Angad called, And, led by kingly duty,(950) gave This order merciful as brave: "Go, Angad, Ravan's presence seek, And thus my words of warning speak: "How art thou changed and fallen now, O Monarch of the giants, thou Whose impious fury would not spare Saint, nymph, or spirit of the air; Whose foot in haughty triumph trod On Yaksha, king, and Serpent God: How art thou fallen from thy pride Which Brahma's favour fortified! With myriads at thy Lanka's gate I stand my righteous ire to sate, And punish thee with sword and flame, The tyrant fiend who stole my dame. Now show the might, employ the guile, O Monarch of the giants' isle, Which stole a helpless dame away: Call up thy power and strength to-day. Once more I warn thee, Rakshas King, This hour the Maithil lady bring, And, yielding while there yet is time, Seek, suppliant, pardon for the crime, Or I will leave beneath the sun No living Rakshas, no, not one. In vain from battle wilt thou fly, Or borne on pinions seek the sky; The hand of Rama shall not spare; His fiery shaft shall smite thee there.' "

High rose the universal wail That mourned the monarch's death, and, pale With crushing woe, her hair unbound, Her eyes in floods of sorrow drowned, Forth from the inner chambers came With trembling feet each royal dame, Heedless of those who bade them stay They reached the field where Ravan lay; There falling by their husband's side, "Ah, King! ah dearest lord!" they cried. Like creepers shattered by the storm They threw them on his mangled form. One to his bleeding bosom crept And lifted up her voice and wept. About his feet one mourner clung, Around his neck another hung, One on the giant's severed head, Her pearly tears in torrents shed Fast as the drops the summer shower Pours down upon the lotus flower. "Ah, he whose arm in anger reared The King of Gods and Yama feared, While panic struck their heavenly train, Lies prostrate in the battle slain. Thy haughty heart thou wouldst not bend, Nor listen to each wiser friend. Ah, had the dame, as they implored, Been yielded to her injured lord, We had not mourned this day thy fall, And happy had it been for all. Then Rama and thy friends content In blissful peace their days had spent. Thine injured brother had not fled, Nor giant chiefs and Vanars bled. Yet for these woes we will not blame. Thy fancy for the Maithil dame, Fate, ruthless Fate, whom none may bend Has urged thee to thy hapless end."

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