Ramayana on Desire

Then slept the tamer of his foes And spent the night in calm repose. Vibhishan came when morning broke, And hailed the royal chief, and spoke: "Here wait thee precious oil and scents, And rich attire and ornaments. The brimming urns are newly filled, And women in their duty skilled, With lotus-eyes, thy call attend, Assistance at thy bath to lend." "Let others," Rama cried, "desire These precious scents, this rich attire, I heed not such delights as these, For faithful Bharat, ill at ease, Watching for me is keeping now Far far away his rigorous vow. By Bharat's side I long to stand, I long to see my fatherland. Far is Ayodhya: long, alas, The dreary road and hard to pass."

The aged king for Rama pined, And for the skies the earth resigned. Bharat, his son, refused to reign, Though urged by all the twice-born(29) train. Forth to the woods he fared to meet His brother, fell before his feet, And cried, "Thy claim all men allow: O come, our lord and king be thou." But Rama nobly chose to be Observant of his sire's decree. He placed his sandals(30) in his hand A pledge that he would rule the land: And bade his brother turn again. Then Bharat, finding prayer was vain, The sandals took and went away; Nor in Ayodhya would he stay. But turned to Nandigrama, where He ruled the realm with watchful care, Still longing eagerly to learn Tidings of Rama's safe return.

They heard the speech of that wise king Of their misfortune questioning. Again the hundred maidens sighed, Touched with their heads his feet, and cried: "The God of Wind, pervading space, Would bring on us a foul disgrace, And choosing folly's evil way From virtue's path in scorn would stray. But we in words like these reproved The God of Wind whom passion moved: "Farewell, O Lord! A sire have we, No women uncontrolled and free. Go, and our sire's consent obtain If thou our maiden hands wouldst gain. No self-dependent life we live: If we offend, our fault forgive." But led by folly as a slave, He would not hear the rede we gave, And even as we gently spoke We felt the Wind-God's crushing stroke."

She lowed, and quickened into life, Pahlavas,(226) burning for the strife, King Visvamitra's army slew Before the very leader's view. The monarch in excessive ire, His eyes with fury darting fire, Rained every missile on the foe Till all the Pahlavas were low. She, seeing all her champions slain, Lying by thousands on the plain. Created, by her mere desire, Yavans and Sakas, fierce and dire. And all the ground was overspread With Yavans and with Sakas dread: A host of warriors bright and strong, And numberless in closest throng: The threads within the lotus stem, So densely packed, might equal them. In gold-hued mail 'against war's attacks, Each bore a sword and battle-axe, The royal host, where'er these came, Fell as if burnt with ravening flame.

Let this fair hill Ayodhya seem, Its silvan things her people deem, And let these waters as they flow Our own beloved Sarju show. How blest, mine own dear love, am I; Thou, fond and true, art ever nigh, And duteous, faithful Lakshman stays Beside me, and my word obeys. Here every day I bathe me thrice, Fruit, honey, roots for food suffice, And ne'er my thoughts with longing stray To distant home or royal sway. For who this charming brook can see Where herds of roedeer wander free, And on the flowery-wooded brink Apes, elephants, and lions drink, Nor feel all sorrow fly?" Thus eloquently spoke the pride Of Raghu's children to his bride, And wandered happy by her side Where Chitrakuta azure-dyed Uprears his peaks on high.

Soon as the saint that speech had heard His spirit with desire was stirred To seek the city of the king And to his cot his son to bring. With young disciples at his side Forth on his way the hermit hied, While peasants from their hamlets ran To reverence the holy man. Each with his little gift of food, Forth came the village multitude, And, as they humbly bowed the head, "What may we do for thee?" they said. Then he, of Brahmans first and best, The gathered people thus addressed: "Now tell me for I fain would know, Why is it I am honoured so?" They to the high-souled saint replied: "Our ruler is with thee allied. Our master's order we fulfil; O Brahman, let thy mind be still."

On that same day that saw the king His gift of kine distributing, The lord of Kekaya's son, by name Yudhajit, Bharat's uncle, came, Asked of the monarch's health, and then Addressed the reverend king of men: "The lord of Kekaya's realm by me Sends greeting, noble King, to thee: Asks if the friends thy prayers would bless Uninterrupted health possess. Right anxious, mighty King, is he My sister's princely boy to see. For this I sought Ayodhya fair The message of my sire to bear. There learning, O my liege, that thou With sons and noble kinsmen now Wast resting here, I sought the place Longing to see my nephew's face." The king with kind observance cheered His friend by tender ties endeared, And every choicest honour pressed Upon his honourable guest.

Thus with due praise the long-eyed dame, Ennobled by her spotless fame, With wreaths of flowers and precious scent Worshipped the Gods, most reverent. A high-souled Brahman lit the fire, And offered, at the queen's desire, The holy oil ordained to burn For Rama's weal and safe return. Kausalya best of dames, with care Set oil, wreaths, fuel, mustard, there. Then when the rites of fire had ceased, For Rama's bliss and health, the priest, Standing without gave what remained In general offering,(299) as ordained. Dealing among the twice-horn train Honey, and curds, and oil, and grain, He bade each heart and voice unite To bless the youthful anchorite. Then Rama's mother, glorious dame Bestowed, to meet the Brahman's claim, A lordly fee for duty done: And thus again addressed her son:

The monarch called a Brahman near And said, "Now speed away To Kasyap's son,(127) the mighty seer, And with all reverence say The holy child he holds so dear, The hermit of the noble mind, Whose equal it were hard to find, Returned, is dwelling here. Go, and instead of me do thou Before that best of hermits bow, That still he may, for his dear son, Show me the favour I have won." Soon as the king these words had said, To Kasyap's son the Brahman sped. Before the hermit low he bent And did obeisance, reverent; Then with meek words his grace to crave The message of his lord he gave: "The high-souled father of his bride Had called thy son his rites to guide: Those rites are o'er, the steed is slain; Thy noble child is come again."

"King Dasaratha," thus cried they, "Fervent in penance many a day, The sacrificial steed has slain, Longing for sons, but all in vain. Now, at the cry of us forlorn, Incarnate as his seed be born. Three queens has he: each lovely dame Like Beauty, Modesty, or Fame. Divide thyself in four, and be His offspring by these noble three. Man's nature take, and slay in fight Ravan who laughs at heavenly might: This common scourge, this rankling thorn Whom the three worlds too long have borne For Ravan in the senseless pride Of might unequalled has defied The host of heaven, and plagues with woe Angel and bard and saint below, Crushing each spirit and each maid Who plays in Nandan's(107) heavenly shade. O conquering Lord, to thee we bow; Our surest hope and trust art thou. Regard the world of men below, And slay the Gods' tremendous foe."

To him Mahesvar thus replied: "O strong-armed hero, lotus-eyed, Thou, best of those who love the right, Hast nobly fought the wondrous fight. Dispelled by thee the doom that spread Through trembling earth and heaven is fled. The worlds exult in light and bliss, And praise thy name, O chief, for this. Now peace to Bharat's heart restore, And bid Kausalya weep no more. Thy face let Queen Kaikeyi see, Let fond Sumitra gaze on thee. The longing of thy friends relieve, The kingdom of thy sires receive. Let sons of gentle Sita born Ikshvaku's ancient line adorn. Then from all care and foemen freed Perform the offering of the steed. In pious gifts thy wealth expend, Then to the home of Gods ascend, Thy sire, this glorious king, behold, Among the blest in heaven enrolled. He comes from where the Immortals dwell: Salute him, for he loves thee well."

The son of Kusik, undeterred, The pleading of the Immortals heard, And thus in haughty words expressed The changeless purpose of his breast: "Content ye, Gods: I soothly sware Trisanku to the skies to bear Clothed in his body, nor can I My promise cancel or deny. Embodied let the king ascend To life in heaven that ne'er shall end. And let these new-made stars of mine Firm and secure for ever shine. Let these, my work, remain secure Long as the earth and heaven endure. This, all ye Gods, I crave: do you Allow the boon for which I sue." Then all the Gods their answer made: "So be it, Saint, as thou hast prayed. Beyond the sun's diurnal way Thy countless stars in heaven shall stay: And 'mid them hung, as one divine, Head downward shall Trisanku shine; And all thy stars shall ever fling Their rays attendant on the king."(239)

From Rishyamuka's rugged side To Malaya's hill the Vanar hied, And to his royal chieftain there Announced the coming of the pair: "See, here with Lakshman Rama stands Illustrious in a hundred lands. Whose valiant heart will never quail Although a thousand foes assail; King Dasaratha's son, the grace And glory of Ikshvaku's race. Obedient to his father's will He cleaves to sacred duty still. With rites of royal pomp and pride His sire the Fire-God gratified; Ten hundred thousand kine he freed, And priests enriched with ample meed; And the broad land protected, famed For truthful lips and passions tamed. Through woman's guile his son has made His dwelling in the forest shade, Where, as he lived with every sense Subdued in hermit abstinence, Fierce Ravan stole his wife, and he Is come a suppliant, lord, to thee. Now let all honour due be paid To these great chiefs who seek thine aid."

"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."

Now with two arms I thee invest Of never-ending Sleep and Rest, With weapons of the Sun and Rain, And those that dry and burn amain; And strong Desire with conquering touch, The dart that Kama prizes much. I give the arm of shadowy powers That bleeding flesh of men devours. I give the arms the God of Gold And giant fiends exult to hold. This smites the foe in battle-strife, And takes his fortune, strength, and life. I give the arms called False and True, And great Illusion give I too; The hero's arm called Strong and Bright That spoils the foeman's strength in fight. I give thee as a priceless boon The Dew, the weapon of the Moon, And add the weapon, deftly planned, That strengthens Visvakarma's hand. The Mortal dart whose point is chill, And Slaughter, ever sure to kill; All these and other arms, for thou Art very dear, I give thee now. Receive these weapons from my hand, Son of the noblest in the land."

How, when the frosty morn is dim, Shall Sarju be a bath for him Nursed with all love and tender care, So delicate and young and fair. How bright his hue! his brilliant eye With the broad lotus leaf may vie. By fortune stamped for happy fate, His graceful form is tall and straight. In duty skilled, his words are truth: He proudly rules each lust of youth. Though his strong arm smites down the foe, In gentle speech his accents flow. Yet every joy has he resigned And cleaves to thee with heart and mind. Thus by the deeds that he has done A name in heaven has Bharat won, For in his life he follows yet Thy steps, O banished anchoret. Thus faithful Bharat, nobly wise, The proverb of the world belies: "No men, by mothers' guidance led, The footsteps of their fathers tread." How could Kaikeyi, blest to be Spouse of the king our sire, and see A son like virtuous Bharat, blot Her glory with so foul a plot!"

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.

The prince whose arm bright glory gained, O'er the whole earth as monarch reigned, And richest gifts to others gave, Is come Sugriva's help to crave; Son of a king the surest friend Of virtue, him who loved to lend His succour to the suffering weak, Is come Sugriva's aid to seek. Yes, Raghu's son whose matchless hand Protected all this sea-girt land, The virtuous prince, my holy guide, For refuge seeks Sugriva's side. His favour sent on great and small Should ever save and prosper all. He now to win Sugriva's grace Has sought his woodland dwelling-place. Son of a king of glorious fame;-- Who knows not Dasaratha's name?-- From whom all princes of the earth Received each honour due to worth;-- Heir of that best of earthly kings, Rama the prince whose glory rings Through realms below and earth and skies, For refuge to Sugriva flies. Nor should the Vanar king refuse The boon for which the suppliant sues, But with his forest legions speed To save him in his utmost need."

Whate'er, by duty won, the meed Of saints whom roots and berries feed, One fourth thereof, for tender care Of subjects, is the monarch's share. These, mostly of the Brahman race, Who make the wood their dwelling-place, Although a friend in thee they view, Fall friendless neath the giant crew. Come, Rama, come, and see hard by The holy hermits' corpses lie, Where many a tangled pathway shows The murderous work of cruel foes. These wicked fiends the hermits kill-- Who live on Chitrakuta's hill, And blood of slaughtered saints has dyed Mandakini and Pampa's side. No longer can we bear to see The death of saint and devotee Whom through the forest day by day These Rakshasas unpitying slay. To thee, O Prince, we flee, and crave Thy guardian help our lives to save. From these fierce rovers of the night Defend each stricken anchorite. Throughout the world 'twere vain to seek An arm like thine to aid the weak. O Prince, we pray thee hear our call, And from these fiends preserve us all."

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."

Thus Rama spoke: the demon heard, And thus replied by passion spurred: "Of giant race, what form soe'er My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear. Named Surpanakha here I stray, And where I walk spread wild dismay. King Ravan is my brother: fame Has taught perchance his dreaded name, Strong Kumbhakarna slumbering deep In chains of never-ending sleep: Vibhishan of the duteous mind, In needs unlike his giant kind: Dushan and Khara, brave and bold Whose fame by every tongue is told: Their might by mine is far surpassed; But when, O best of men, I cast These fond eyes on thy form, I see My chosen love and lord in thee. Endowed with wondrous might am I: Where'er my fancy leads I fly. The poor misshapen Sita leave, And me, thy worthier bride receive. Look on my beauty, and prefer A spouse more meet than one like her: I'll eat that ill-formed woman there: Thy brother too her fate shall share. But come, beloved, thou shalt roam With me through all our woodland home; Each varied grove with me shalt seek, And gaze upon each mountain peak."

Nor did the saint their rede reject: He bade farewell with due respect, And crossed, attended by the twain, That river rushing to the main. When now the bark was half way o'er, Rama and Lakshman heard the roar, That louder grew and louder yet, Of waves by dashing waters met. Then Rama asked the mighty seer: "What is the tumult that I hear Of waters cleft in mid career?" Soon as the speech of Rama, stirred By deep desire to know, he heard, The pious saint began to tell What paused the waters' roar and swell: "On high Kailasa's distant hill There lies a noble lake Whose waters, born from Brahma's will, The name of Manas(158) take. Thence, hallowing where'er they flow, The streams of Sarju fall, And wandering through the plains below Embrace Ayodhya's wall. Still, still preserved in Sarju's name Sarovar's(159) fame we trace. The flood of Brahma whence she came To run her holy race. To meet great Ganga here she hies With tributary wave: Hence the loud roar ye hear arise, Of floods that swell and rave. Here, pride of Raghu's line, do thou In humble adoration bow."

Thus Rama spoke. Sugriva hied Within the mountain's caverned side, Impelled by love that stirred each thought The precious tokens quickly brought, And said to Raghu's son: Behold This garment and these rings of gold. In Rama's hand with friendly haste The jewels and the robe he placed. Then, like the moon by mist assailed, The tear-dimmed eyes of Rama failed; That burst of woe unmanned his frame, Woe sprung from passion for his dame, And with his manly strength o'erthrown, He fell and cried, Ah me! mine own! Again, again close to his breast The ornaments and robe he pressed, While the quick pants that shook his frame As from a furious serpent came. On his dear brother standing nigh He turned at length his piteous eye; And, while his tears increasing ran, In bitter wail he thus began: "Look, brother, and behold once more The ornaments and robe she wore, Dropped while the giant bore away In cruel arras his struggling prey, Dropped in some quiet spot, I ween, Where the young grass was soft and green; For still untouched by spot or stain Their former beauty all retain."

That conquering pair, of royal race, Skilled to observe due time and place, To Kusik's hermit son addressed, In timely words, their meet request: "When must we, lord, we pray thee tell, Those Rovers of the Night repel? Speak, lest we let the moment fly, And pass the due occasion by." Thus longing for the strife, they prayed, And thus the hermits answer made: "Till the fifth day be come and past, O Raghu's sons, your watch must last. The saint his Diksha(170) has begun, And all that time will speak to none." Soon as the steadfast devotees Had made reply in words like these, The youths began, disdaining sleep, Six days and nights their watch to keep. The warrior pair who tamed the foe, Unrivalled benders of the bow, Kept watch and ward unwearied still To guard the saint from scathe and ill. 'Twas now the sixth returning day, The hour foretold had past away. Then Rama cried: "O Lakshman, now Firm, watchful, resolute be thou. The fiends as yet have kept afar From the pure grove in which we are: Yet waits us, ere the day shall close, Dire battle with the demon foes."

His breast with burning fury fired, Thus Khara of the fiend inquired: And then with many a tear and sigh Thus Surpanakha made reply: "'Tis Dasaratha's sons, a pair Strong, resolute, and young, and fair: In coats of dark and blackdeer's hide, And like the radiant lotus eyed: On berries roots and fruit they feed, And lives of saintly virtue lead: With ordered senses undefiled, Rama and Lakshman are they styled. Fair as the Minstrels' King(460) are they, And stamped with signs of regal sway. I know not if the heroes trace Their line from Gods or Danav(461) race. There by these wondering eyes between The noble youths a dame was seen, Fair, blooming, young, with dainty waist, And all her bright apparel graced. For her with ready heart and mind The royal pair their strength combined, And brought me to this last distress, Like some lost woman, comfortless. Perfidious wretch! my soul is fain Her foaming blood and theirs to drain. O let me head the vengeful fight, And with this hand my murderers smite. Come, brother, hasten to fulfil This longing of my eager will. On to the battle! Let me drink Their lifeblood as to earth they sink."

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:

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.

When Janak's lovely city first Upon their sight, yet distant, burst, The hermits all with joyful cries Hailed the fair town that met their eyes. Then Rama saw a holy wood, Close, in the city's neighbourhood, O'ergrown, deserted, marked by age, And thus addressed the mighty sage: "O reverend lord. I long to know What hermit dwelt here long ago." Then to the prince his holy guide, Most eloquent of men, replied: "O Rama, listen while I tell Whose was this grove, and what befell When in the fury of his rage The high saint cursed the hermitage. This was the grove--most lovely then-- Of Gautam, O thou best of men, Like heaven itself, most honoured by The Gods who dwell above the sky. Here with Ahalya at his side His fervid task the ascetic plied. Years fled in thousands. On a day It chanced the saint had gone away, When Town-destroying Indra came, And saw the beauty of the dame. The sage's form the God endued, And thus the fair Ahalya wooed: "Love, sweet! should brook no dull delay But snatch the moments when he may." She knew him in the saint's disguise, Lord Indra of the Thousand Eyes, But touched by love's unholy fire, She yielded to the God's desire.

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."

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."

Thus by the high-souled prince addressed, Of Raghu's sons the chief and best, She cast all ruth and shame aside, And bold with greedy words replied: "Not wrath, O Rama, stirs the king, Nor misery stabs with sudden sting; One thought that fills his soul has he, But dares not speak for fear of thee. Thou art so dear, his lips refrain From words that might his darling pain. But thou, as duty bids, must still The promise of thy sire fulfil. He who to me in days gone by Vouchsafed a boon with honours high, Dares now, a king, his word regret, And caitiff-like disowns the debt. The lord of men his promise gave To grant the boon that I might crave, And now a bridge would idly throw When the dried stream has ceased to flow. His faith the monarch must not break In wrath, or e'en for thy dear sake. From faith, as well the righteous know, Our virtue and our merits flow. Now, be they good or be they ill, Do thou thy father's words fulfil: Swear that his promise shall not fail, And I will tell thee all the tale. Yes, Rama, when I hear that thou Hast bound thee by thy father's vow, Then, not till then, my lips shall speak, Nor will he tell what boon I seek."

The city dames, with grief distressed, Thus once again their lords addressed: "Rama shall be your guard and guide, And Sita will for us provide. For who would care to linger here, Where all is sad and dark and drear? Who, mid the mourners, hope for bliss In a poor soulless town like this? If Queen Kaikeyi's treacherous sin, Our lord expelled, the kingdom win, We heed not sons or golden store, Our life itself we prize no more. If she, seduced by lust of sway, Her lord and son could cast away, Whom would she leave unharmed, the base Defiler of her royal race? We swear it by our children dear, We will not dwell as servants here; If Queen Kaikeyi live to reign, We will not in her realm remain. Bowed down by her oppressive hand, The helpless, lordless, godless land, Cursed for Kaikeyi's guilt will fall, And swift destruction seize it all. For, Rama forced from home to fly, The king his sire will surely die, And when the king has breathed his last Ruin will doubtless follow fast. Sad, robbed of merits, drug the cup And drink the poisoned mixture up, Or share the exiled Rama's lot, Or seek some land that knows her not. No reason, but a false pretence Drove Rama, Sita, Lakshman hence, And we to Bharat have been given Like cattle to the shambles driven."

His hands upon his head he laid And thus again his answer made: "Not yet has Rama learnt where lies His lady of the lotus eyes, Or he like Indra from the sky To Sachi's(860) aid, to thee would fly. Soon will he hear the tale, and then, Roused to revenge, the lord of men Will to the giants' island lead Fierce myriads of the woodland breed, Bridging his conquering way, and make The town a ruin for thy sake. Believe my words, sweet dame; I swear By roots and fruit, my woodland fare, By Meru's peak and Vindhva's chain, And Mandar of the Milky Main, Soon shalt thou see thy lord, though now He waits upon Prasravan's(861) brow, Come glorious as the breaking morn, Like Indra on Airavat(862) borne. For thee he looks with longing eyes; The wood his scanty food supplies. For thee his brow is pale and worn, For thee are meat and wine forsworn. Thine image in his heart he keeps, For thee by night he wakes and weeps. Or if perchance his eyes he close And win brief respite from his woes, E'en then the name of Sita slips In anguish from his murmuring lips. If lovely flowers or fruit he sees, Which women love, upon the trees, To thee, to thee his fancy flies. And 'Sita! O my love!' he cries."

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

Rama the good, in ritual trained, Pure from the bath, with thoughts restrained, Hasted those verses to repeat Which make the sacrifice complete. The hosts celestial came in view, And Rama to the cot withdrew, While a sweet sense of rapture stole Through the unequalled hero's soul. He paid the Visvedevas(332) due. And Rudra's right, and Vishnu's too, Nor wonted blessings, to protect Their new-built home, did he neglect. With voice repressed he breathed the prayer, Bathed duly in the river fair, And gave good offerings that remove The stain of sin, as texts approve. And many an altar there he made, And shrines, to suit the holy shade, All decked with woodland chaplets sweet, And fruit and roots and roasted meat, With muttered prayer, as texts require, Water, and grass and wood and fire. So Rama, Lakshman, Sita paid Their offerings to each God and shade, And entered then their pleasant cot That bore fair signs of happy lot. They entered, the illustrious three, The well-set cottage, fair to see, Roofed with the leaves of many a tree, And fenced from wind and rain: So, at their Father Brahma's call, The Gods of heaven, assembling all, To their own glorious council hall Advance in shining train. So, resting on that lovely hill, Near the fair lily-covered rill, The happy prince forgot, Surrounded by the birds and deer, The woe, the longing, and the fear That gloom the exile's lot.

The chieftain heard the crow entreat Helpless and prostrate at his feet, And while soft pity moved his breast, With wisest speech the bird addressed: "I took the troubled Sita's part, And furious anger filled my heart. Then on the string my arrow lay Charmed with a spell thy life to slay. Thou seekest now my feet, to crave Forgiveness and thy life to save. So shall thy prayer have due respect: The suppliant I must still protect. But ne'er in vain this dart may flee; Yield for thy life a part of thee, What portion of thy body, say, Shall this mine arrow rend away? Thus far, O bird, thus far alone On thee my pity may be shown. Forfeit a part thy life to buy: 'Tis better so to live than die." Thus Rama spoke: the bird of air Pondered his speech with anxious care, And wisely deemed it good to give One of his eyes that he might live. To Raghu's son he made reply: "O Rama, I will yield an eye. So let me in thy grace confide And live hereafter single-eyed." Then Rama charged the shaft, and lo, Full in the eye it smote the crow. And the Videhan lady gazed Upon the ruined eye amazed. The crow to Rama humbly bent, Then where his fancy led he went. Rama with Lakshman by his side With needful work was occupied.

This said, the valiant hero put Upon the giant's neck his foot. His spade obedient Lakshman plied, And dug a pit both deep and wide By lofty souled Viradha's side. Then Raghu's son his foot withdrew, And down the mighty form they threw; One awful shout of joy he gave And sank into the open grave. The heroes, to their purpose true, In fight the cruel demon slew, And radiant with delight Deep in the hollowed earth they cast The monster roaring to the last, In their resistless might. Thus when they saw the warrior's steel No life-destroying blow might deal, The pair, for lore renowned, Deep in the pit their hands had made The unresisting giant laid, And killed him neath the ground. Upon himself the monster brought From Rama's hand the death he sought With strong desire to gain: And thus the rover of the night Told Rama, as they strove in fight, That swords might rend and arrows smite Upon his breast in vain. Thus Rama, when his speech he heard, The giant's mighty form interred, Which mortal arms defied. With thundering crash the giant fell, And rock and cave and forest dell With echoing roar replied. The princes, when their task was done And freedom from the peril won, Rejoiced to see him die. Then in the boundless wood they strayed, Like the great sun and moon displayed Triumphant in the sky.(410)

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."

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."

She listened, for his words were kind, Where virtue showed with gain combined, And thus in turn the prince addressed, As hope was rising in his breast: "No time, no cause of wrath I see With those who live and honour thee: And thou shouldst bear without offence Thy servant's fitful negligence. I know the seasons glide away, While Rama maddens at delay I know what deed our thanks has earned, I know that grace should be returned. But still I know, whate'er befall, That conquering love is lord of all; Know where Sugriva's thoughts, possessed By one absorbing passion, rest. But he whom sensual joys debase Heeds not the claim of time and place, And sees not with his blinded sight His duty or his gain aright. O pardon him who loves me! spare The Vanar caught in pleasure's snare, And once again let Rama grace With favour him who rules our race. E'en royal saints, whose chief delight Was penance and austerest rite, At love's commandment have unbent, Beguiled by sweetest blandishment. And know, Sugriva, roused at last, The order to his lords has passed, And, long by love and bliss delayed, Wakes all on fire your hopes to aid. A countless host his city fills, New-gathered from a thousand hills: Impetuous chiefs, who wear at need Each varied form, his legions lead. Come then, O hero, kept aloof By modest awe, nor fear reproof: A faithful friend untouched by blame May look upon another's dame."

"I Rama's wife, on that sad day, By Ravan's arm was borne away, Seized, while I sat and feared no ill, By him who wears each form at will. A helpless captive, left forlorn To demons' threats and taunts and scorn, Here for my lord I weep and sigh, And worn with woe would gladly die. For what is life to me afar From Rama of the mighty car? The robber in his fruitless sin Would hope his captive's love to win. My meaner foot shall never touch The demon whom I loathe so much. The senseless fool! he knows me not, Nor the proud soul his love would blot. Yea, limb from limb will I be rent, But never to his prayer consent; Be burnt and perish in the fire, But never meet his base desire. My lord was grateful, true and wise, And looked on woe with pitying eyes; But now, recoiling from the strife He pities not his captive wife. Alone in Janasthan he slew The thousands of the Rakshas crew. His arm was strong, his heart was brave, Why comes he not to free and save? Why blame my lord in vain surmise? He knows not where his lady lies. O, if he knew, o'er land and sea His feet were swift to set me free; This Lanka, girdled by the deep, Would fall consumed, a shapeless heap, And from each ruined home would rise A Rakshas widow's groans and cries."

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."

"Yea, O my lord," the monarch said, And took the vase upon his head, The gift of Gods, of fine gold wrought, With store of heavenly liquor fraught. He honoured, filled with transport new, That wondrous being, fair to view, As round the envoy of the God With reverential steps he trod.(110) His errand done, that form of light Arose and vanished from the sight. High rapture filled the monarch's soul, Possessed of that celestial bowl, As when a man by want distressed With unexpected wealth is blest. And rays of transport seemed to fall Illuminating bower and hall, As when the autumn moon rides high, And floods with lovely light the sky. Quick to the ladies' bower he sped, And thus to Queen Kausalya said: "This genial nectar take and quaff," He spoke, and gave the lady half. Part of the nectar that remained Sumitra from his hand obtained. He gave, to make her fruitful too, Kaikeyi half the residue. A portion yet remaining there, He paused awhile to think. Then gave Sumitra, with her share. The remnant of the drink. Thus on each queen of those fair three A part the king bestowed, And with sweet hope a child to see Their yearning bosoms glowed. The heavenly bowl the king supplied Their longing souls relieved, And soon, with rapture and with pride, Each royal dame conceived. He gazed upon each lady's face, And triumphed as he gazed, As Indra in his royal place By Gods and spirits praised.

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

"Yet more remain, brave chiefs who stake Their noble lives for Rama's sake. See, glorious, golden-coated, one Who glisters like the morning sun, Whom thousands of his race surround, 'Tis Hara for his strength renowned. Next comes a mighty chieftain, he Whose legions, armed with rock and tree, Press on, in numbers passing tale, The ramparts of our town to scale. O Ravan, see the king advance Terrific with his fiery glance, Girt by the bravest of his train, Majestic as the God of Rain, Parjanya, when his host of clouds About the king, embattled, crowds: On Rikshavan's high mountain nursed, In Narmada(940) he slakes his thirst, Dhumra, proud ursine chief, who leads Wild warriors whom the forest breeds. His brother, next in strength and age, In Jambavan the famous sage. Of yore his might and skill he lent To him who rules the firmament, And Indra's liberal boons repaid The chieftain for the timely aid. There like a gloomy cloud that flies Borne by the tempest through the skies, Pramathi stands: he roamed of yore The forest wilds on Ganga's shore, Where elephants were struck with dread And trembling at his coming fled. There on his foes he loved to sate The old hereditary hate.(941) Look, Gaja and Gavaksha show Their lust of battle with the foe. See Nala burning for the fray, And Nila chafing at delay. Behind the eager captains press Wild hosts in numbers numberless, And each for Rama's sake would fall Or force his way through Lanka's wall."

"Yea, for my father's promise sake I to the wood my way will take, And dwell a lonely exile there In hermit dress with matted hair. One thing alone I fain would learn, Why is the king this day so stern? Why is the scourge of foes so cold, Nor gives me greeting as of old? Now let not anger flush thy cheek: Before thy face the truth I speak, In hermit's coat with matted hair To the wild wood will I repair. How can I fail his will to do, Friend, master, grateful sovereign too? One only pang consumes my breast: That his own lips have not expressed His will, nor made his longing known That Bharat should ascend the throne. To Bharat I would yield my wife, My realm and wealth, mine own dear life, Unasked I fain would yield them all: More gladly at my father's call, More gladly when the gift may free His honour and bring joy to thee. Thus, lady, his sad heart release From the sore shame, and give him peace. But tell me, O, I pray thee, why The lord of men, with downcast eye, Lies prostrate thus, and one by one Down his pale cheek the tear-drops run. Let couriers to thy father speed On horses of the swiftest breed, And, by the mandate of the king, Thy Bharat to his presence bring. My father's words I will not stay To question, but this very day To Dandak's pathless wild will fare, For twice seven years an exile there."

Their tender love the people drew To follow Rama brave and true, The high-souled hero, as he went Forth from his home to banishment. The king himself his friends obeyed, And turned him homeward as they prayed. But yet the people turned not back, Still close on Rama's chariot track. For they who in Ayodhya dwelt For him such fond affection felt, Decked with all grace and glories high, The dear full moon of every eye. Though much his people prayed and wept, Kakutstha's son his purpose kept, And still his journey would pursue To keep the king his father true. Deep in the hero's bosom sank Their love, whose signs his glad eye drank. He spoke to cheer them, as his own Dear children, in a loving tone: "If ye would grant my fond desire, Give Bharat now that love entire And reverence shown to me by all Who dwell within Ayodhya's wall. For he, Kaikeyi's darling son, His virtuous career will run, And ever bound by duty's chain Consult your weal and bliss and gain. In judgment old, in years a child, With hero virtues meek and mild, A fitting lord is he to cheer His people and remove their fear. In him all kingly gifts abound, More noble than in me are found: Imperial prince, well proved and tried-- Obey him as your lord and guide. And grant, I pray, the boon I ask: To please the king be still your task, That his fond heart, while I remain Far in the wood, may feel no pain."

Long on the ground he wept, and rolled From side to side, still unconsoled, And then, with bitter grief oppressed, His mother with these words addressed: "This joyful hope my bosom fed When from my grandsire's halls I sped-- "The king will throne his eldest son, And sacrifice, as should be done." But all is changed, my hope was vain, And this sad heart is rent in twain, For my dear father's face I miss, Who ever sought his loved ones' bliss. But in my absence, mother, say, What sickness took my sire away? Ah, happy Rama, happy they Allowed his funeral rites to pay! The glorious monarch has not learned That I his darling have returned, Or quickly had he hither sped, And pressed his kisses on my head. Where is that hand whose gentle touch, Most soft and kind I loved so much, The hand that loved to brush away The dust that on his darling lay? Quick, bear the news to Rama's ear; Tell the great chief that I am here: Brother, and sire, and friend, and all Is he, and I his trusty thrall. For noble hearts, to virtue true, Their sires in elder brothers view. To clasp his feet I fain would bow: He is my hope and refuge now. What said my glorious sire, who knew Virtue and vice, so brave and true? Firm in his vows, dear lady, say, What said he ere he passed away? What was his rede to me? I crave To hear the last advice he gave."

Will find no faithful followers heed Their master in his hour of need. The friend on whom he most relies, In danger, from a monarch flies, Imperious in his high estate, Conceited, proud, and passionate; Who ne'er to state affairs attends With wholesome fear when woe impends Most weak and worthless as the grass, Soon from his sway the realm will pass. For rotting wood a use is found, For clods and dust that strew the ground, But when a king has lost his sway, Useless he falls, and sinks for aye. As raiment by another worn, As faded garland crushed and torn, So is, unthroned, the proudest king, Though mighty once, a useless thing. But he who every sense subdues And each event observant views, Rewards the good and keeps from wrong, Shall reign secure and flourish long. Though lulled in sleep his senses lie He watches with a ruler's eye, Untouched by favour, ire, and hate, And him the people celebrate. O weak of mind, without a trace Of virtues that a king should grace, Who hast not learnt from watchful spy That low in death the giants lie. Scorner of others, but enchained By every base desire, By thee each duty is disdained Which time and place require. Soon wilt thou, if thou canst not learn, Ere yet it be too late, The good from evil to discern, Fall from thy high estate." As thus she ceased not to upbraid The king with cutting speech, And every fault to view displayed, Naming and marking each, The monarch of the sons of night, Of wealth and power possessed, And proud of his imperial might, Long pondered in his breast.

"Hear me," he cried, "great chieftain, tell What in the olden time befell,-- A secret tale which, long suppressed, Lies prisoned only in my breast. One day--a day I never forget-- Fair Punjikasthala(922) I met, When, radiant as a flame of fire, She sought the palace of the Sire. In passion's eager grasp I tore From her sweet limbs the robes she wore, And heedless of her prayers and cries Strained to my breast the vanquised prize. Like Nalini(923) with soil distained, The mansion of the Sire she gained, And weeping made the outrage known To Brahma on his heavenly throne. He in his wrath pronounced a curse,-- That lord who made the universe: "If, Ravan, thou a second time Be guilty of so foul a crime, Thy head in shivers shall be rent: Be warned, and dread the punishment." Awed by the threat of vengeance still I force not Sita's stubborn will. Terrific as the sea in might: My steps are like the Storm-Gods' flight; But Rama knows not this, or he Had never sought to war with me. Where is the man would idly brave The lion in his mountain cave, And wake him when with slumbering eyes Grim, terrible as Death, he lies? No, blinded Rama knows me not: Ne'er has he seen mine arrows shot; Ne'er marked them speeding to their aim Like snakes with cloven tongues of flame. On him those arrows will I turn, Whose fiery points shall rend and burn. Quenched by my power when I assail The glory of his might shall fail, As stars before the sun grow dim And yield their feeble light to him."

As to each warder beast he came And questioned all, his words the same, The honoured youth with gentle speech Drew eloquent reply from each, That fortune should his steps attend, And with the horse he home should wend. Cheered with the grateful answer, he Passed on with step more light and free, And reached with careless heart the place Where lay in ashes Sagar's race. Then sank the spirit of the chief Beneath that shock of sudden grief, And with a bitter cry of woe He mourned his kinsmen fallen so. He saw, weighed down by woe and care, The victim charger roaming there. Yet would the pious chieftain fain Oblations offer to the slain: But, needing water for the rite, He looked and there was none in sight His quick eye searching all around The uncle of his kinsmen found, King Garud, best beyond compare Of birds who wing the fields of air. Then thus unto the weeping man The son of Vinata(192) began: "Grieve not, O hero, for their fall Who died a death approved of all. Of mighty strength, they met their fate By Kapil's hand whom none can mate. Pour forth for them no earthly wave, A holier flood their spirits crave. If, daughter of the Lord of Snow, Ganga would turn her stream below, Her waves that cleanse all mortal stain Would wash their ashes pure again. Yea, when her flood whom all revere Rolls o'er the dust that moulders here, The sixty thousand, freed from sin, A home in Indra's heaven shall win. Go, and with ceaseless labour try To draw the Goddess from the sky. Return, and with thee take the steed; So shall thy grandsire's rite succeed."

This said, the son of Raghu pressed His foot upon the giant's breast. With joy the prostrate monster heard Victorious Rama's welcome word, And straight Kakutstha's son, the best Of men, in words like these addressed: "I yield, O chieftain, overthrown By might that vies with Indra's own. Till now my folly-blinded eyes Thee, hero, failed to recognize. Happy Kausalya! blest to be The mother of a son like thee! I know thee well, O chieftain, now: Rama, the prince of men, art thou. There stands the high-born Maithil dame, There Lakshman, lord of mighty fame. My name was Tumburu,(408) for song Renowned among the minstrel throng: Cursed by Kuvera's stern decree I wear the hideous shape you see. But when I sued, his grace to crave, The glorious God this answer gave: "When Rama, Dasaratha's son, Destroys thee and the fight is won, Thy proper shape once more assume, And heaven again shall give thee room." When thus the angry God replied, No prayers could turn his wrath aside, And thus on me his fury fell For loving Rambha's(409) charms too well. Now through thy favour am I freed From the stern fate the God decreed, And saved, O tamer of the foe, By thee, to heaven again shall go. A league, O Prince, beyond this spot Stands holy Sarabhanga's cot: The very sun is not more bright Than that most glorious anchorite: To him, O Rama, quickly turn, And blessings from the hermit earn. First under earth my body throw, Then on thy way rejoicing go. Such is the law ordained of old For giants when their days are told: Their bodies laid in earth, they rise To homes eternal in the skies."

When Rama heard the words he spoke Again he sank beneath the stroke, And with a bosom anguish-fraught Himself the lovely river sought. There standing on the shelving side, "O Sita, where art thou?" he cried. No spirit voice an answer gave, No murmur from the trembling wave Of sweet Godavari declared The outrage which the fiend had dared. "O speak!" the pitying spirits cried, But yet the stream their prayer denied, Nor dared she, coldly mute, relate To the sad chief his darling's fate Of Ravan's awful form she thought, And the dire deed his arm had wrought, And still withheld by fear dismayed, The tale for which the mourner prayed. When hope was none, his heart to cheer, That the bright stream his cry would hear While sorrow for his darling tore His longing soul he spake once more: "Though I have sought with tears and sighs Godarvari no word replies, O say, what answer can I frame To Janak, father of my dame? Or how before her mother stand Leading no Sita by the hand? Where is my loyal love who went Forth with her lord to banishment? Her faith to me she nobly held Though from my realm and home expelled,-- A hermit, nursed on woodland fare,-- She followed still and soothed my care. Of all my friends am I bereft, Nor is my faithful consort left. How slowly will the long nights creep While comfortless I wake and weep! O, if my wife may yet be found, With humble love I'll wander round This Janasthan, Prasravan's hill, Mandakini's delightful rill. See how the deer with gentle eyes Look on my face and sympathize. I mark their soft expression: each Would soothe me, if it could, with speech."

Lord Indra ceased. The nymph obeyed: In all her loveliest charms arrayed, With winning ways and witching smile She sought the hermit to beguile. The sweet note of that tuneful bird The saint with ravished bosom heard, And on his heart a rapture passed As on the nymph a look he cast. But when he heard the bird prolong His sweet incomparable song, And saw the nymph with winning smile, The hermit's heart perceived the wile. And straight he knew the Thousand-eyed A plot against his peace had tried. Then Kusik's son indignant laid His curse upon the heavenly maid: "Because thou wouldst my soul engage Who fight to conquer love and rage, Stand, till ten thousand years have flown, Ill-fated maid, transformed to stone. A Brahman then, in glory strong, Mighty through penance stern and long, Shall free thee from thine altered shape; Thou from my curse shalt then escape." But when the saint had cursed her so, His breast was burnt with fires of woe, Grieved that long effort to restrain His mighty wrath was all in vain. Cursed by the angry sage's power, She stood in stone that selfsame hour. Kandarpa heard the words he said, And quickly from his presence fled. His fall beneath his passion's sway Had reft the hermit's meed away. Unconquered yet his secret foes, The humbled saint refused repose: "No more shall rage my bosom till, Sealed be my lips, my tongue be still. My very breath henceforth I hold Until a thousand years are told: Victorious o'er each erring sense, I'll dry my frame with abstinence, Until by penance duly done A Brahman's rank be bought and won. For countless years, as still as death, I taste no food, I draw no breath, And as I toil my frame shall stand Unharmed by time's destroying hand."

"O Raghu's son, I cannot tell Where now that cruel fiend may dwell, Declare his power and might, or trace The author of his cursed race. Still trust the promise that I make And let thy breast no longer ache. So will I toil, nor toil in vain, That thou thy consort mayst regain. So will I work with might and skill That joy anew thy heart shall fill: The valour of my soul display, And Ravan and his legions slay. Awake, awake! unmanned no more Recall the strength was thine of yore. Beseems not men like thee to wear A weak heart yielding to despair. Like troubles, too, mine eyes have seen, Lamenting for a long-lost queen; But, by despair unconquered yet, My strength of mind I ne'er forget. Far more shouldst thou of lofty soul Thy passion and thy tears control, When I, of Vanar's humbler strain, Weep not for her in ceaseless pain. Be firm, be patient, nor forget The bounds the brave of heart have set In loss, in woe, in strife, in fear, When the dark hour of death is near. Up! with thine own brave heart advise: Not thus despond the firm and wise. But he who gives his childish heart To choose the coward's weakling part, Sinks, like a foundered vessel, deep In waves of woe that o'er him sweep. See, suppliant hand to hand I lay, And, moved by faithful love, I pray. Give way no more to grief and gloom, But all thy native strength resume. No joy on earth, I ween, have they Who yield their souls to sorrow's sway. Their glory fades in slow decline: 'Tis not for thee to grieve and pine. I do but hint with friendly speech The wiser part I dare not teach. This better path, dear friend, pursue, And let not grief thy soul subdue."

But Atikaya's wrath grew high To see his noblest kinsmen die. He, fiercest of the giant race, Presuming still on Brahma's grace; Proud tamer of the Immortals' pride, Whose power and might with Indra's vied, For blood and vengeful carnage burned, And on the foe his fury turned. High on a car that flashed and glowed Bright as a thousand suns he rode. Around his princely brows was set A rich bejewelled coronet. Gold pendants in his ears he wore; He strained and tried the bow he bore, And ever, as a shaft he aimed, His name and royal race proclaimed. Scarce might the Vanars brook to hear His clanging bow and voice of fear: To Raghu's elder son they fled, Their sure defence in woe and dread. Then Rama bent his eyes afar And saw the giant in his car Fast following the flying crowd And roaring like a rainy cloud. He, with the lust of battle fired, Turned to Vibhishan and inquired: "Say, who is this, of mountain size, This archer with the lion eyes? His car, which strikes our host with awe, A thousand eager coursers draw. Surrounded by the flashing spears Which line his car, the chief appears Like some huge cloud when lightnings play About it on a stormy day; And the great bow he joys to hold Whose bended back is bright with gold, As Indra's bow makes glad the skies, That best of chariots glorifies. O see the sunlike splendour flung From the great flag above him hung, Where, blazoned with refulgent lines, Rahu(988) the dreadful Dragon shines. Full thirty quivers near his side, His car with shafts is well supplied: And flashing like the light of stars Gleam his two mighty scimitars. Say, best of giants, who is he Before whose face the Vanars flee?"

Soon as appeared the morning light Up rose the mighty anchorite, And thus to youthful Rama said, Who lay upon his leafy bed: "High fate is hers who calls thee son: Arise, 'tis break of day; Rise, Chief, and let those rites be done Due at the morning's ray."(151) At that great sage's high behest Up sprang the princely pair, To bathing rites themselves addressed, And breathed the holiest prayer. Their morning task completed, they To Visvamitra came That store of holy works, to pay The worship saints may claim. Then to the hallowed spot they went Along fair Sarju's side Where mix her waters confluent With three-pathed Ganga's tide.(152) There was a sacred hermitage Where saints devout of mind Their lives through many a lengthened age To penance had resigned. That pure abode the princes eyed With unrestrained delight, And thus unto the saint they cried, Rejoicing at the sight: "Whose is that hermitage we see? Who makes his dwelling there? Full of desire to hear are we: O Saint, the truth declare." The hermit smiling made reply To the two boys' request: "Hear, Rama, who in days gone by This calm retreat possessed. Kandarpa in apparent form, Called Kama(153) by the wise, Dared Uma's(154) new-wed lord to storm And make the God his prize. 'Gainst Sthanu's(155) self, on rites austere And vows intent,(156) they say, His bold rash hand he dared to rear, Though Sthanu cried, Away! But the God's eye with scornful glare Fell terrible on him. Dissolved the shape that was so fair And burnt up every limb. Since the great God's terrific rage Destroyed his form and frame, Kama in each succeeding age Has borne Ananga's(157) name. So, where his lovely form decayed, This land is Anga styled: Sacred to him of old this shade, And hermits undefiled. Here Scripture-talking elders sway Each sense with firm control, And penance-rites have washed away All sin from every soul.

"Needs not to you who know declare How ever with paternal care My fathers of Ikshvaku's line Have ruled the realm which now is mine. I too have taught my feet to tread The pathway of the mighty dead, And with fond care that never slept Have, as I could, my people kept. So toiling still, and ne'er remiss For all my people's weal and bliss, Beneath the white umbrella's(260) shade. Old age is come and strength decayed. Thousands of years have o'er me flown, And generations round me grown And passed away. I crave at length Repose and ease for broken strength. Feeble and worn I scarce can bear The ruler's toil, the judge's care, With royal dignity, a weight That tries the young and temperate. I long to rest, my labour done, And in my place to set my son, If to the twice-born gathered here My counsel wise and good appear. For greater gifts than mine adorn Rama my son, my eldest-born. Like Indra brave, before him fall The foeman's cities, tower and wall. Him prince of men for power and might, The best maintainer of the right, Fair as the moon when nothing bars His glory close to Pushya's stars, Him with to-morrow's light I fain Would throne the consort of my reign. A worthy lord for you, I ween, Marked as her own by Fortune's Queen. The triple world itself would be Well ruled by such a king as he. To such high bliss and happy fate Will I the country dedicate, And my sad heart will cease to grieve If he the precious charge receive. Thus is my careful plan matured, Thus for myself is rest secured; Lieges, approve the words I say, Or point ye out some wiser way. Devise your prudent plan. My mind Is fondly to this thought inclined, But men by keen debating move Some middle course which all approve."

And Bharat, too, for me address: Pray that all health his life may bless. Let every royal lady share, As justice bids, his love and care. Say to the strong-armed chief who brings Joy to Iksvaku's line of kings: "As ruling prince thy care be shown Of him, our sire, who holds the throne. Stricken in years he feels their weight; But leave him in his royal state. As regent heir content thee still, Submissive to thy father's will.' " Rama again his charge renewed, As the hot flood his cheek bedewed: "Hold as thine own my mother dear Who drops for me the longing tear." Then Lakshman, with his soul on fire, Spake breathing fast these words of ire: "Say, for what sin, for what offence Was royal Rama banished thence? He is the cause, the king: poor slave To the light charge Kaikeyi gave. Let right or wrong the motive be, The author of our woe is he. Whether the exile were decreed Through foolish faith or guilty greed, For promises or empire, still The king has wrought a grievous ill. Grant that the Lord of all saw fit To prompt the deed and sanction it, In Rama's life no cause I see For which the king should bid him flee. His blinded eyes refused to scan The guilt and folly of the plan, And from the weakness of the king Here and hereafter woe shall spring. No more my sire: the ties that used To bind me to the king are loosed. My brother Rama, Raghu's son, To me is lord, friend, sire in one. The love of men how can he win, Deserting, by the cruel sin, Their joy, whose heart is swift to feel A pleasure in the people's weal? Shall he whose mandate could expel The virtuous Rama, loved so well, To whom his subjects' fond hearts cling-- Shall he in spite of them be king?"

He spoke, and when his speech was done Bent his fierce brows on Raghu's son. With eager eyes he looked around If lethal arms might yet be found. Not far away and full in view A Sal-tree towering upward grew. His lips in mighty strain compressed, He tore it up with root and crest, With huge arms waved it o'er his head And hurled it shouting, Thou art dead. But Rama, unsurpassed in might, Stayed with his shafts its onward flight, And furious longing seized his soul The giant in the dust to roll. Great drops of sweat each limb bedewed, His red eyes showed his wrathful mood. A thousand arrows, swiftly sent, The giant's bosom tore and rent. From every gash his body showed The blood in foamy torrents flowed, As springing from their caverns leap Swift rivers down the mountain steep. When Khara felt each deadened power Yielding beneath that murderous shower, He charged, infuriate with the scent Of blood, in dire bewilderment. But Rama watched, with ready bow, The onset of his bleeding foe, And ere the monster reached him, drew Backward in haste a yard or two. Then from his side a shaft he took Whose mortal stroke no life might brook: Of peerless might, it bore the name Of Brahma's staff, and glowed with flame: Lord Indra, ruler of the skies, Himself had given the glorious prize. His bow the virtuous hero drew, And at the fiend the arrow flew. Hissing and roaring like the blast Of tempest through the air it passed, And fixed, by Rama's vigour sped, In the foe's breast its pointed head. Then fell the fiend: the quenchless flame Burnt furious in his wounded frame. So burnt by Rudra Andhak(477) fell In Svetaranya's silvery dell: So Namuchi and Vritra(478) died By steaming bolts that tamed their pride: So Bala(479) fell by lightning sent By Him who rules the firmament.