Ramayana on The Divine

Thus spoke the Lord whom Gods revere, And sought again his heavenly sphere. But Visvamitra, more intent, His mind to sterner penance bent. So many a season rolled away, When Menaka, fair nymph, one day Came down from Paradise to lave Her perfect limbs in Pushkar's wave, The glorious son of Kusik saw That peerless shape without a flaw Flash through the flood's translucent shroud Like lightning gleaming through a cloud. He saw her in that lone retreat, Most beautiful from head to feet, And by Kandarpa's(243) might subdued He thus addressed her as he viewed: "Welcome, sweet nymph! O deign, I pray, In these calm shades awhile to stay. To me some gracious favour show, For love has set my breast aglow."

Thus spoke the peer in Scripture read, And to the ladies' bower he sped. Quick through the gates Sumantra hied, Which access ne'er to him denied. Behind the curtained screen he drew, Which veiled the chamber from the view. In benediction loud he raised His voice, and thus the monarch praised: "Sun, Moon, Kuvera, Siva bless Kakutstha's son with high success! The Lords of air, flood, fire decree The victory, my King, to thee! The holy night has past away, Auspicious shines the morning's ray. Rise, Lord of men, thy part to take In the great rite. Awake! awake! Brahmans and captains, chiefs of trade, All wait in festive garb arrayed; For thee they look with eager eyes: O Raghu's son, awake! arise."

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.

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

The nurse, with transport uncontrolled, Her glad tale to the hump-back told: "Our lord the king to-morrow morn Will consecrate his eldest-born, And raise, in Pushya's favouring hour, Prince Rama to the royal power." As thus the nurse her tidings spoke, Rage in the hump-back's breast awoke. Down from the terrace, like the head Of high Kailasa's hill, she sped. Sin in her thoughts, her soul aflame, Where Queen Kaikeyi slept, she came: "Why sleepest thou?" she cried, "arise, Peril is near, unclose thine eyes. Ah, heedless Queen, too blind to know What floods of sin above thee flow! Thy boasts of love and grace are o'er: Thine is the show and nothing more. His favour is an empty cheat, A torrent dried by summer's heat."

When Bharat pious, pure, and true, Heard the sad words which pierced him through, Grieved for the sire he loved so well Prostrate upon the ground he fell: Down fell the strong-armed hero, high Tossing his arms, and a sad cry, "Ah, woe is me, unhappy, slain!" Burst from his lips again, again, Afflicted for his father's fate By grief's intolerable weight, With every sense amazed and cowed The splendid hero wailed aloud: "Ah me, my royal father's bed Of old a gentle radiance shed, Like the pure sky when clouds are past, And the moon's light is o'er it cast: Ah, of its wisest lord bereft, It shows to-day faint radiance left, As when the moon has left the sky. Or mighty Ocean's depths are dry."

Then when the princes' mournful train Heard the sad brothers thus complain, And saw their misery, at the view Their grief burst wilder out anew. Faint with lamenting, sad and worn, Each like a bull with broken horn, The brothers in their wild despair Lay rolling, mad with misery, there. Then old Vasishtha good and true, Their father's priest, all lore who knew, Raised weeping Bharat on his feet, And thus bespake with counsel meet: "Twelve days, my lord, have past away Since flames consumed thy father's clay: Delay no more: as rules ordain, Gather what bones may yet remain. Three constant pairs are ever found To hem all mortal creatures round:(354) Then mourn not thus, O Prince, for none Their close companionship may shun."

As serpents cast their sloughs away And all their new born sheen display, So flash your mighty swords inlaid With burning gold on hilt and blade. Why are you silent, heroes? Why My questions hear nor deign reply? Sugriva, lord of virtuous mind, The foremost of the Vanar kind, An exile from his royal state, Roams through the land disconsolate. I, Hanuman, of Vanar race, Sent by the king have sought this place, For he, the pious, just, and true, In friendly league would join with you. Know, godlike youths, that I am one Of his chief lords, the Wind-God's son. With course unchecked I roam at will, And now from Rishyamuka's hill, To please his heart, his hope to speed, I came disguised in beggar's weed."

By slow degrees the Vanars' lord Felt life and sense and strength restored. He heard the giants' joyful boast: He thought upon his Vanar host. His teeth and feet he fiercely plied, And bit and rent the giant's side, Who, mad with pain and smeared with gore, Hurled to the ground the load he bore. Regardless of a storm of blows Swift to the sky the Vanar rose, Then lightly like a flying ball High overleapt the city wall, And joyous for deliverance won Regained the side of Raghu's son. And Kumbhakarna, mad with hate And fury, sallied from the gate, The carnage of the foe renewed And filled his maw with gory food. Slaying, with headlong frenzy blind, Both Vanar foes and giant kind.

Nor would Sumitra's valiant son(982) The might of Kumbhakarna shun, Who through his harness felt the sting Of keen shafts loosened from the string. His heart confessed the warrior's power, And, bleeding from the ceaseless shower That smote him on the chest and side, With words like these the giant cried: "Well fought, well fought, Sumitra's son; Eternal glory hast thou won, For thou in desperate fight hast met The victor never conquered yet, Whom, borne on huge Airavat's back, E'en Indra trembles to attack. Go, son of Queen Sumitra, go: Thy valour and thy strength I know. Now all my hope and earnest will Is Rama in the fight to kill. Let him beneath my weapons fall, And I will meet and conquer all."

Then Rama, following still his guide, Within the grove, with Lakshman, hied, Her vows a wondrous light had lent To that illustrious penitent. He saw the glorious lady, screened From eye of man, and God, and fiend, Like some bright portent which the care Of Brahma launches through the air, Designed by his illusive art To flash a moment and depart: Or like the flame that leaps on high To sink involved in smoke and die: Or like the full moon shining through The wintry mist, then lost to view: Or like the sun's reflection, cast Upon the flood, too bright to last: So was the glorious dame till then Removed from Gods' and mortals' ken, Till--such was Gautam's high decree-- Prince Rama came to set her free.

When the great sage had thus replied, To Rama Satananda cried: "A welcome visit, Prince, is thine, Thou scion of King Raghu's line. With him to guide thy way aright, This sage invincible in might, This Brahman sage, most glorious-bright, By long austerities has wrought A wondrous deed, exceeding thought: Thou knowest well, O strong of arm, This sure defence from scathe and harm. None, Rama, none is living now In all the earth more blest than thou, That thou hast won a saint so tried In fervid rites thy life to guide. Now listen, Prince, while I relate His lofty deeds and wondrous fate. He was a monarch pious-souled. His foemen in the dust he rolled; Most learned, prompt at duty's claim, His people's good his joy and aim.

When Visvamitra, glorious saint, Had heard the boy's heart-rending plaint. He soothed his grief, his tears he dried, Then called his sons to him, and cried: "The time is come for you to show The duty and the aid bestow For which, regarding future life, A man gives children to his wife. This hermit's son, whom here you see A suppliant, refuge seeks with me. O sons, the friendless youth befriend, And, pleasing me, his life defend. For holy works you all have wrought, True to the virtuous life I taught. Go, and as victims doomed to bleed, Die, and Lord Agni's hunger feed. So shall the rite completed end, This orphan gain a saving friend, Due offerings to the Gods be paid, And your own father's voice obeyed."

With Brahma's son Vasishtha, best Of those who pray with voice repressed, The Gods by earnest prayer prevailed, And thus his new-made friend he hailed: "Thy title now is sure and good To rights of saintly Brahmanhood." Thus spake the sage. The Gods, content, Back to their heavenly mansions went. And Visvamitra, pious-souled, Among the Brahman saints enrolled, On reverend Vasishtha pressed The honours due to holy guest. Successful in his high pursuit, The sage, in penance resolute, Walked in his pilgrim wanderings o'er The whole broad land from shore to shore. 'Twas thus the saint, O Raghu's son, His rank among the Brahmans won. Best of all hermits, Prince, is he; In him incarnate Penance see. Friend of the right, who shrinks from ill, Heroic powers attend him still."

Lakshman, the chief whose arrows laid His foemen low, his word obeyed; And Rama thus again addressed The swift performer of his hest: "Prepare the venison thou hast shot, To sacrifice for this our cot. Haste, brother dear, for this the hour, And this the day of certain power." Then glorious Lakshman took the buck His arrow in the wood had struck; Bearing his mighty load he came, And laid it in the kindled flame. Soon as he saw the meat was done, And that the juices ceased to run From the broiled carcass, Lakshman then Spoke thus to Rama best of men: "The carcass of the buck, entire, Is ready dressed upon the fire. Now be the sacred rites begun To please the God, thou godlike one."

His hands he joined, his head he bent And spoke in answer reverent To the most high and radiant sage Who issued from his hermitage: "Well have I passed the night: thy feast Gave joy to every man and beast; And I, great lord, and every peer Were satisfied with sumptuous cheer, Thy banquet has delighted all From highest chief to meanest thrall, And rich attire and drink and meat Banished the thought of toil and heat. And now, O Hermit good and great, A boon of thee I supplicate. To Rama's side my steps I bend: Do thou with friendly eye commend. O tell me how to guide my feet To virtuous Rama's lone retreat: Great Hermit, I entreat thee, say How far from here and which the way."

"Still to my father's word I hold, Whate'er he bought, or pledged, or sold: Ne'er shall his living promise be Annulled by Bharat or by me. Not thus my task will I evade, My exile on another laid: Most wise was Queen Kaikeyi's rede, And just and good my father's deed. Dear Bharat's patient soul I know, How reverence due he loves to show; In him, high-souled and faithful found, Must each auspicious grace abound. When from the woods I turn again I with his aid shall nobly reign, With one so good, of peerless worth, A glorious lord of happy earth. Her boon Kaikeyi sought and won. I, as my father swore, have done: And O, do thou, my brother dear, The monarch's name from falsehood clear.

But Trisiras,(471) a chieftain dread, Marked Khara as he onward sped. And met his car and cried, to stay The giant from the purposed fray: "Mine be the charge: let me attack, And turn thee from the contest back. Let me go forth, and thou shalt see The strong-armed Rama slain by me. True are the words I speak, my lord: I swear it as I touch my sword: That I this Rama's blood will spill, Whom every giant's hand should kill. This Rama will I slay, or he In battle fray shall conquer me. Restrain thy spirit: check thy car, And view the combat from afar. Thou, joying o'er the prostrate foe, To Janasthan again shalt go, Or, if I fall in battle's chance, Against my conqueror advance."

Again her eyes with tears o'erflowed: She gazed upon the head he showed, Gazed on the bow so famed of yore, The glorious bow which Rama bore. She gazed upon his cheek and brows, The eyes of her beloved spouse; His lips, the lustre of his hair, The priceless gem that glittered there. The features of her lord she knew, And, pierced with anguish at the view, She lifted up her voice and cried: "Kaikeyi, art thou satisfied? Now all thy longings are fulfilled; The joy of Raghu's race is killed, And ruined is the ancient line, Destroyer, by that fraud of thine. Ah, what offence, O cruel dame, What fault in Rama couldst thou blame, To drive him clad in hermit dress With Sita to the wilderness?"

A stately ship, at early morn, The hermit's son away had borne. Loud roared the clouds, as on he sped, The sky grew blacker overhead; Till, as he reached the royal town, A mighty flood of rain came down. By the great rain the monarch's mind The coming of his guest divined. To meet the honoured youth he went, And low to earth his head he bent. With his own priest to lead the train, He gave the gift high guests obtain. And sought, with all who dwelt within The city walls, his grace to win. He fed him with the daintiest fare, He served him with unceasing care, And ministered with anxious eyes Lest anger in his breast should rise; And gave to be the Brahman's bride His own fair daughter, lotus-eyed.

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."

He hastened then with graceful ease That mighty bow and shaft to seize. His hand the weapon strung and swayed: The arrow on the string was laid. Then Jamadagni's son he eyed, And thus in words of fury cried: "Thou art a Brahman, still to be Most highly honoured, Chief, by me. For Visvamitra's sake beside Shall reverence due be ne'er denied. Though mine the power, I would not send A dart at thee thy life to end. But thy great power to wander free, Which penance-rites have won for thee, Or glorious worlds from thee to wrest, Is the firm purpose of my breast, And Vishnu's dart which now I strain Can ne'er be shot to fall in vain: It strikes the mighty, and it stuns The madness of the haughty ones."

So Raghu's son, his foemen's dread, With Sita and his brother sped, Girt round by many a twice-born sage, To good Sutikshna's hermitage.(420) Through woods for many a league he passed, O'er rushing rivers full and fast, Until a mountain fair and bright As lofty Meru rose in sight. Within its belt of varied wood Ikshvaku's sons and Sita stood, Where trees of every foliage bore Blossom and fruit in endless store. There coats of bark, like garlands strung, Before a lonely cottage hung, And there a hermit, dust-besmeared, A lotus on his breast, appeared. Then Rama with obeisance due Addressed the sage, as near he drew: "My name is Rama, lord; I seek Thy presence, saint, with thee to speak. O sage, whose merits ne'er decay, Some word unto thy servant say."

Then with fierce eyes on Sita set They cried again with taunt and threat: Each licking with her fiery tongue The lip that to her bosom hung, And menacing the lady's life With axe, or spear or murderous knife: "Hear, Sita, and our words obey, Or perish by our hands to-day. Thy love for Raghu's son forsake, And Ravan for thy husband take, Or we will rend thy limbs apart And banquet on thy quivering heart. Now from her body strike the head, And tell the king the dame is dead. Then by our lord's commandment she A banquet for our band shall be. Come, let the wine be quickly brought That frees each heart from saddening thought. Then to the western gate repair, And we will dance and revel there."

The lion-lord of men, the best Of splendid heroes, thus addressed, To Sita spake with joyful cheer: "The king and queen, my lady dear, Touching the throning, for my sake Some salutary counsel take. The lady of the full black eye Would fain her husband gratify, And, all his purpose understood, Counsels the monarch to my good. A happy fate is mine, I ween, When he, consulting with his queen, Sumantra on this charge, intent Upon my gain and good, has sent. An envoy of so noble sort Well suits the splendour of the court. The consecration rite this day Will join me in imperial sway. To meet the lord of earth, for so His order bids me, I will go. Thou, lady, here in comfort stay, And with thy maidens rest or play."

On Rama's left Vibhishan view, With giants for his retinue: King-making drops have dewed his head, Appointed monarch in thy stead. Behold that chieftain sternly still, High towering like a rooted hill, Supreme in power and pride of place, The monarch of the Vanar race. Raised high above his woodland kind, In might and glory, frame and mind, His head above his host he shows Conspicuous as the Lord of Snows. His home is far from hostile eyes Where deep in woods Kishkindha lies. A glistering chain which flowers bedeck With burnished gold adorns his neck. Queen Fortune, loved by Gods and kings, To him her chosen favourite clings. That chain he owes to Rama's grace, And Tara and his kingly place. In him the great Sugriva know, Whom Rama rescued from his foe."(942)

The queen Ghritachi, nymph most fair, Married to Kusanabha, bare A hundred daughters, lovely-faced, With every charm and beauty graced. It chanced the maidens, bright and gay As lightning-flashes on a day Of rain time, to the garden went With song and play and merriment, And there in gay attire they strayed, And danced, and laughed, and sang, and played. The God of Wind who roves at will All places, as he lists, to fill, Saw the young maidens dancing there, Of faultless shape and mien most fair. "I love you all, sweet girls," he cried, "And each shall be my darling bride. Forsake, forsake your mortal lot, And gain a life that withers not. A fickle thing is youth's brief span, And more than all in mortal man. Receive unending youth, and be Immortal, O my loves, with me."

Then, host to host, we met the foes, And fierce the din of battle rose, Sudhanva, foremost of his band, Fell smitten by my single hand. When thus Sankasya's lord was slain, I sanctified, as laws ordain, My brother in his stead to reign, Thus are we brothers, Saint most high The younger he, the elder I. Now, mighty Sage, my spirit joys To give these maidens to the boys. Let Sita be to Rama tied. And Urmila be Lakshman's bride. First give, O King, the gift of cows, As dowry of each royal spouse, Due offerings to the spirits pay, And solemnize the wedding-day. The moon tonight, O royal Sage, In Magha's(252) House takes harbourage; On the third night his rays benign In second Phalguni(253) will shine: Be that the day, with prosperous fate, The nuptial rites to celebrate."

Then Rama, as she spoke distressed, The feet of Saint Vasishtha pressed, Touched them with reverential love, Then near him took his seat: Thus Indra clasps in realms above The Heavenly Teacher's(380) feet. Then with each counsellor and peer, Bharat of duteous mind, With citizens and captains near, Sat humbly down behind. When with his hands to him upraised, In devotee's attire, Bharat upon his brother gazed Whose glory shone like fire, As when the pure Mahendra bends To the great Lord of Life, Among his noble crowd of friends This anxious thought was rife: "What words to Raghu's son to-day Will royal Bharat speak, Whose heart has been so prompt to pay Obeisance fond and meek?" Then steadfast Rama, Lakshman wise, Bharat for truth renowned, Shone like three fires that heavenward rise With holy priests around.

But Tara in the Vanar's hall Heard tidings of her husband's fall; Heard that a shaft from Rama's bow Had laid the royal Bali low. Her darling Angad by her side, Distracted from her home she hied. Then nigh the place of battle drew The Vanars, Angad's retinue. They saw the bow-armed Rama: dread Fell on them, and they turned and fled. Like helpless deer, their leaders slain, So wildly fled the startled train. But Tara saw, and nearer pressed, And thus the flying band addressed: "O Vanars, ye who ever stand About our king, a trusty band, Where is the lion master? why Forsake ye thus your lord and fly? Say, lies he dead upon the plain, A brother by a brother slain, Or pierced by shafts from Rama's bow That rain from far upon the foe?"

Still, like a winged mountain, he Sprang forward through the airy sea,(888) And rushing through the ether drew The clouds to follow as he flew, Through the great host around him spread, Grey, golden, dark, and white, and red. Now in a sable cloud immersed, Now from its gloomy pall he burst, Like the bright Lord of Stars concealed A moment, and again revealed. Sunabha(889) passed, he neared the coast Where waited still the Vanar host. They heard a rushing in the skies, And lifted up their wondering eyes. His wild triumphant shout they knew That louder still and louder grew, And Jambavan with eager voice Called on the Vanars to rejoice: "Look he returns, the Wind-God's son, And full success his toils have won; Triumphant is the shout that comes Like music of a thousand drums."

The Lord of Gods then gave consent, And to his heavenly mansion went. Triumphant in the arms he held, The monarch's breast with glory swelled. So swells the ocean, when upon His breast the full moon's beams have shone. Already in his mind he viewed Vasishtha at his feet subdued. He sought that hermit's grove, and there Launched his dire weapons through the air, Till scorched by might that none could stay The hermitage in ashes lay. Where'er the inmates saw, aghast, The dart that Visvamitra cast, To every side they turned and fled In hundreds forth disquieted. Vasishtha's pupils caught the fear, And every bird and every deer, And fled in wild confusion forth Eastward and westward, south and north, And so Vasishtha's holy shade A solitary wild was made, Silent awhile, for not a sound Disturbed the hush that was around.

With her own hands Kaikeyi took The hermit coats of bark, and, "Look," She cried with bold unblushing brow Before the concourse, "Dress thee now." That lion leader of the brave Took from her hand the dress she gave, Cast his fine raiment on the ground, And round his waist the vesture bound. Then quick the hero Lakshman too His garment from his shoulders threw, And, in the presence of his sire, Indued the ascetic's rough attire. But Sita, in her silks arrayed, Threw glances, trembling and afraid, On the bark coat she had to wear, Like a shy doe that eyes the snare. Ashamed and weeping for distress From the queen's hand she took the dress. The fair one, by her husband's side Who matched heaven's minstrel monarch,(312) cried: "How bind they on their woodland dress, Those hermits of the wilderness?"

Sore grief upon his bosom weighed As on the pyre the bird he laid, And bade the kindled flame ascend To burn the body of his friend. Then with his brother by his side The hero to the forest hied. There many a stately deer he slew, The flesh around the bird to strew. The venison into balls he made, And on fair grass before him laid. Then that the parted soul might rise And find free passage to the skies, Each solemn word and text he said Which Brahmans utter o'er the dead. Then hastening went the princely pair To bright Godavari, and there Libations of the stream they poured In honour of the vulture lord, With solemn ritual to the slain, As scripture's holy texts ordain. Thus offerings to the bird they gave And bathed their bodies in the wave.

He ceased: and Bali sore distressed The sovereign claims of law confessed, And freed, o'erwhelmed with woe and shame, The lord of Raghu's race from blame. Then, reverent palm to palm applied, To Rama thus the Vanar cried: "True, best of men, is every word That from thy lips these ears have heard, It ill beseems a wretch like me To bandy empty words with thee. Forgive the angry taunts that broke From my wild bosom as I spoke. And lay not to my charge, O King, My mad reproaches' idle sting. Thou, in the truth by trial trained, Best knowledge of the right hast gained: And layest, just and pure within, The meetest penalty on sin. Through every bond of law I burst, The boldest sinner and the worst. O let thy right-instructing speech Console my heart and wisely teach."

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

"And breathes there one so cold and weak The forest and the gloom to seek Where savage beasts abound, and spare To taste the luscious honey there? Art thou not lord? and who is he Shall venture to give laws to thee? Love thy Videhan still, and tread Upon thy prostrate foeman's head. O'er Sita's will let thine prevail, And strength achieve if flattery fail. What though the lady yet be coy And turn her from the proffered joy? Soon shall her conquered heart relent And yield to love and blandishment. With us let Kumbhakarna fight, And Indrajit of matchless might: We need not other champions, they Shall lead us forth to rout and slay. Not ours to bribe or soothe or part The foeman's force with gentle art, Doomed, conquered by our might, to feel The vengeance of the warrior's steel."

Fierce flashed the flame from Ravan's eye, As thus in wrath he made reply: "Fair time, I ween, for sleep is this, To lull thy soul in tranquil bliss, Unheeding, in oblivion drowned, The dangers that our lives surround. Brave Rama, Dasaratha's son, A passage o'er the sea has won, And, with the Vanar monarch's aid, Round Lanka's walls his hosts arrayed. Though never in the deadly field My Rakshas troops were known to yield, The bravest of the giant train Have fallen by the Vanars slain. Hence comes my fear. O fierce and brave, Go forth, our threatened Lanka save. Go forth, a dreadful vengeance take: For this, O chief, I bade thee wake. The Gods and trembling fiends have felt The furious blows thine arm has dealt. Earth has no warrior, heaven has none To match thy might, Paulastya's son."

The aged monarch fain would rest, And said within his weary breast, "Oh that I might, while living yet, My Rama o'er the kingdom set. And see, before my course be run, The hallowed drops anoint my son; See all this spacious land obey, From side to side, my first-born's sway, And then, my life and joy complete, Obtain in heaven a blissful seat!" In him the monarch saw combined The fairest form, the noblest mind, And counselled how his son might share, The throne with him as Regent Heir. For fearful signs in earth and sky, And weakness warned him death was nigh: But Rama to the world endeared By every grace his bosom cheered, The moon of every eye, whose ray Drove all his grief and fear away. So duty urged that hour to seize, Himself, his realm, to bless and please.

Then Bharat shook in every limb As suppliant thus he spake to him: "The duty of a king respect, Held by our race in high respect: And O, thy gracious ear incline To heed my mother's prayer and mine. The mighty realm to rule and guard For me alone is task too hard. No power have I the love to gain Of noble, citizen, and swain. All those who know thee, warrior, friend, On thee their eager glances bend, As labouring hinds who till the plain Look fondly for the Lord of Rain. O wisest Prince, thy realm secure, And make its firm foundations sure. Kakutstha's son, thy mighty arm Can keep the nation free from harm." He spoke, and fell in sorrow drowned At Rama's feet upon the ground, And there the hero sued and sighed, And "Hear me, Raghu's son," he cried.

Ah no, my love is surely dead, Fierce giants on her flesh have fed, Rending the soft limbs of their prey When I her lord was far away. That moon-bright face, that polished brow, Red lips, bright teeth--what are they now? Alas, my darling's shapely neck She loved with chains of gold to deck,-- That neck that mocked the sandal scent, The ruthless fiends have grasped and rent. Alas, 'twas vain those arms to raise Soft as the young tree's tender sprays. Ah, dainty meal for giants' lips Were arms and quivering finger tips. Ah, she who counted many a friend Was left for fiends to seize and rend, Was left by me without defence From ravening giants' violence. O Lakshman of the arm of might, Say, is my darling love in sight? O dearest Sita. where art thou? Where is my darling consort now?"

His hands in reverence Rama raised And southward o'er the ocean gazed; Then on the sacred grass that made His lowly couch his limbs he laid. His head on that strong arm reclined Which Sita, best of womankind, Had loved in happier days to hold With soft arms decked with pearls and gold. Then rising from his bed of grass, "This day," he cried, "the host shall pass Triumphant to the southern shore, Or Ocean's self shall be no more." Thus vowing in his constant breast Again he turned him to his rest, And there, his eyes in slumber closed, Silent beside the sea reposed. Thrice rose the Day-God thrice he set, The lord of Ocean came not yet, Thrice came the night, but Raghu's son No answer by his service won. To Lakshman thus the hero cried, His eyes aflame with wrath and pride:

Then by Sampati's counsel led, Brave Hanuman, who mocked at dread, Sprang at one wild tremendous leap Two hundred leagues across the deep. To Lanka's(35) town he urged his way, Where Ravan held his royal sway. There pensive 'neath Asoka(36) boughs He found poor Sita, Rama's spouse. He gave the hapless girl a ring, A token from her lord and king. A pledge from her fair hand he bore; Then battered down the garden door. Five captains of the host he slew, Seven sons of councillors o'erthrew; Crushed youthful Aksha on the field, Then to his captors chose to yield. Soon from their bonds his limbs were free, But honouring the high decree Which Brahma(37) had pronounced of yore, He calmly all their insults bore. The town he burnt with hostile flame, And spoke again with Rama's dame, Then swiftly back to Rama flew With tidings of the interview.

As royal Bharat thus gave vent To bitter grief in wild lament, Gazing upon his face the crowd Of pitying women wept aloud. His lamentation scarce was o'er, When Saint Vasishtha, skilled in lore Of royal duty, dear to fame, To join the great assembly came. Girt by disciples ever true Still nearer to that hall he drew, Resplendent, heavenly to behold, Adorned with wealth of gems and gold: E'en so a man in duty tried Draws near to meet his virtuous bride. He reached his golden seat o'erlaid With coverlet of rich brocade, There sat, in all the Vedas read, And called the messengers, and said: "Go forth, let Brahman, Warrior, peer, And every captain gather here: Let all attentive hither throng: Go, hasten: we delay too long. Satrughna, glorious Bharat bring, The noble children of the king,(357) Yudhajit(358) and Sumantra, all The truthful and the virtuous call."

"This deed will free the worlds from woe And cause the giants' overthrow. The fiend has borne to Lanka's isle The lady of the lovely smile, True consort born to happy fate With features fair and delicate. She looks and longs for Rama's face, But sees a crowd of demon race, And guarded by the giant's train Pines for her lord and weeps in vain. But Lanka founded on a steep Is girdled by the mighty deep, And how will Rama know his fair And blameless wife is prisoned there? She on her woe will sadly brood And pine away in solitude, And heedless of herself, will cease To live, despairing of release. Yes, pondering on her fate, I see Her gentle life in jeopardy. Go, Indra, swiftly seek the place, And look upon her lovely face. Within the city make thy way: Let heavenly food her spirit stay."

My shafts this day, for Sita's sake, The life of every fiend shall take. The Gods this day shall see the force That wings my arrows on their course, And mark how far that course is held, By my unsparing wrath impelled. No God, not one of Daitya strain, Goblin or Rakshas shall remain. My wrath shall end the worlds, and all Demons and Gods therewith shall fall. Each world which Gods, the Danav race, And giants make their dwelling place, Shall fall beneath my arrows sent In fury when my bow is bent. The arrows loosened from my string Confusion on the worlds shall bring. For she is lost or breathes no more, Nor will the Gods my love restore. Hence all on earth with life and breath This day I dedicate to death. All, till my darling they reveal, The fury of my shafts shall feel."

Then Rama to his bosom drew Dear Bharat and Satrughna too: "Be never wroth," he cried, "with her, Kaikeyi's guardian minister: This, glory of Ikshvaku's line, Is Sita's earnest prayer and mine." He spoke, and as the big tears fell, To his dear brother bade farewell. Round Rama, Bharat strong and bold In humble reverence paced, When the bright sandals wrought with gold Above his brows were placed. The royal elephant who led The glorious pomp he found, And on the monster's mighty head Those sandals duly bound. Then noble Rama, born to swell The glories of his race, To all in order bade farewell With love and tender grace-- To brothers, counsellers, and peers,-- Still firm, in duty proved, Firm, as the Lord of Snow uprears His mountains unremoved. No queen, for choking sobs and sighs, Could say her last adieu: Then Rama bowed, with flooded eyes, And to his cot withdrew.

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."

"Whate'er a friend most wise and true, Who counsels for the best, should do, Whate'er his gentle part should be, Has been performed, dear friend, by thee. Taught by thy counsel, O my lord, I feel my native strength restored. A friend like thee is hard to gain, Most rare in time of grief and pain. Now strain thine utmost power to trace The Maithil lady's dwelling place, And aid me in my search to find Fierce Ravan of the impious mind. Trust thou, in turn, thy loyal friend, And say what aid this arm can lend To speed thy hopes, as fostering rain Quickens in earth the scattered grain. Deem not those words, that seemed to spring From pride, are false, O Vanar King. None from these lips has ever heard, None e'er shall hear, one lying word. Again I promise and declare, Yea, by my truth, dear friend, I swear."

"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."

Meanwhile Vibhishan with the four Stood high above the ocean shore. Sugriva and the chiefs he spied, And raised his mighty voice and cried: "From Ravan, lord of giants, I His brother, named Vibhishan, fly. From Janasthan he stole the child Of Janak by his art beguiled, And in his palace locked and barred Surrounds her with a Rakshas guard. I bade him, plied with varied lore, His hapless prisoner restore. But he, by Fate to ruin sent, No credence to my counsel lent, Mad as the fevered wretch who sees And scorns the balm to bring him ease. He scorned the sage advice I gave, He spurned me like a base-born slave. I left my children and my wife, And fly to Raghu's son for life. I pray thee, Vanar chieftain, speed To him who saves in hour of need, And tell him famed in distant lands That suppliant here Vibhishan stands."

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

The Vanar squadrons densely spread O'er all the country onward sped, While rising from the rapid beat Of bears' and monkeys' hastening feet. Dust hid the earth with thickest veil, And made the struggling sunbeams pale. Now where Mahendra's peaks arise Came Rama of the lotus eyes And the long arm's resistless might, And clomb the mountain's wood-crowned height. Thence Dasaratha's son beheld Where billowy Ocean rose and swelled, Past Malaya's peaks and Sahya's chain The Vanar legions reached the main, And stood in many a marshalled band On loud-resounding Ocean's strand. To the fair wood that fringed the tide Came Dasaratha's son, and cried: "At length, my lord Sugriva, we Have reached King Varun's realm the sea, And one great thought, still-vexing, how To cross the flood, awaits us now. The broad deep ocean, that denies A passage, stretched before us lies. Then let us halt and plan the while How best to storm the giant's isle."

So fared he forth. That host, with speed, Quadruple, as the king decreed, With priests to head the bright array, Followed the monarch on his way. Four days they travelled on the road, And eve Videha's kingdom showed. Janak had left his royal seat The venerable king to greet, And, noblest, with these words addressed That noblest lord, his happy guest: "Hail, best of kings: a blessed fate Has led thee, Monarch, to my state. Thy sons, supreme in high emprise, Will gladden now their father's eyes. And high my fate, that hither leads Vasishtha, bright with holy deeds, Girt with these sages far-renowned, Like Indra with the Gods around. Joy! joy! for vanquished are my foes: Joy! for my house in glory grows, With Raghu's noblest sons allied, Supreme in strength and valour's pride. To-morrow with its early light Will shine on my completed rite. Then, sanctioned by the saints and thee, The marriage of thy Rama see."

Sumantra, Lakshman gave assent, And with the steeds they thither went. When Rama reached the lovely tree, With Sita and with Lakshman, he Alighted from the car: with speed Sumantra loosed each weary steed. And, hand to hand in reverence laid, Stood near to Rama in the shade. Rama's dear friend, renowned by fame, Who of Nishada lineage came, Guha, the mighty chief, adored Through all the land as sovereign lord, Soon as he heard that prince renowned Was resting on Nishada ground, Begirt by counsellor and peer And many an honoured friend drew near. Soon as the monarch came in view, Rama and Lakshman toward him flew. Then Guha, at the sight distressed, His arms around the hero pressed, Laid both his hands upon his head Bowed to those lotus feet, and said: "O Rama, make thy wishes known, And be this kingdom as thine own. Who, mighty-armed, will ever see A guest so dear as thou to me?"

Thus mourning in that lonely spot The troubled chief bewailed his lot, And filled with tears, his eyes ran o'er; Then silent sat, and spake no more. To him, when ceased his loud lament, Like fire whose brilliant might is spent, Or the great sea when sleeps the wave, Thus Lakshman consolation gave: "Chief of the brave who bear the bow, E'en now Ayodhya, sunk in woe, By thy departure reft of light Is gloomy as the moonless night. Unfit it seems that thou, O chief, Shouldst so afflict thy soul with grief, So with thou Sita's heart consign To deep despair as well as mine. Not I, O Raghu's son, nor she Could live one hour deprived of thee: We were, without thine arm to save, Like fish deserted by the wave. Although my mother dear to meet, Satrughna, and the king, were sweet, On them, or heaven, to feed mine eye Were nothing, if thou wert not by."

In horns from forehead of the bull, In pitchers bright and beautiful, In urns of gold the Vanara took Pure water brought from stream and brook, From every consecrated strand And every sea that beats the land. Then, as prescribed by sacred lore And many a mighty sage of yore,(615) The leaders of the Vanars poured The sacred water on their lord.(616) From every Vanar at the close Of that imperial rite arose Shouts of glad triumph, loud and long Repeated by the high-souled throng. Sugriva, when the rite was done, Obeyed the hest of Raghu's son, Prince Angad to his breast he strained, And partner of his sway ordained. Once more from all the host rang out The loud huzza and jovful shout. "Well done! well done!" each Vanar cried, And good Sugriva glorified. Then with glad voices loudly raised Were Rama and his brother praised; And bright Kishkindha shone that day With happy throngs and banners gay.

The hermit saw the slaughtered bird, And all his heart with ruth was stirred. The fowler's impious deed distressed His gentle sympathetic breast, And while the curlew's sad cries rang Within his ears, the hermit sang: "No fame be thine for endless time, Because, base outcast, of thy crime, Whose cruel hand was fain to slay One of this gentle pair at play!" E'en as he spoke his bosom wrought And laboured with the wondering thought What was the speech his ready tongue Had uttered when his heart was wrung. He pondered long upon the speech, Recalled the words and measured each, And thus exclaimed the saintly guide To Bharadvaja by his side: "With equal lines of even feet, With rhythm and time and tone complete, The measured form of words I spoke In shock of grief be termed a sloke."(46) And Bharadvaja, nothing slow His faithful love and zeal to show, Answered those words of wisdom, "Be The name, my lord, as pleases thee."

When woke to sense the stricken train, And Janak's soul was calm again, With suppliant hands and reverent head, These words, most eloquent, he said: "O Saint, Prince Rama stands alone: His peerless might he well has shown. A marvel has the hero wrought Beyond belief, surpassing thought. My child, to royal Rama wed, New glory on our line will shed: And true my promise will remain That hero's worth the bride should gain. Dearer to me than light and life, My Sita shall be Rama's wife. If thou, O Brahman, leave concede, My counsellors, with eager speed, Borne in their flying cars, to fair Ayodhya's town the news shall bear, With courteous message to entreat The king to grace my royal seat. This to the monarch shall they tell, The bride is his who won her well: And his two sons are resting here Protected by the holy seer. So, at his pleasure, let them lead The sovereign to my town with speed."

Rama and Lakshman honoured still Their godlike sire with duteous will. Two constant guides for Rama stood, His father's wish, the people's good. Attentive to the general weal He thought and wrought to please and heal. His mothers too he strove to please With love and sonly courtesies. At every time, in every spot, His holy guides he ne'er forgot. So for his virtues kind and true Dearer and dearer Rama grew To Dasaratha, Brahmans, all In town and country, great and small. And Rama by his darling's side Saw many a blissful season glide, Lodged in her soul, each thought on her, Lover, and friend, and worshipper. He loved her for his father's voice Had given her and approved the choice: He loved her for each charm she wore And her sweet virtues more and more. So he her lord and second life Dwelt in the bosom of his wife, In double form, that, e'en apart, Each heart could commune free with heart.