Ramayana on The Divine

"What foe in friendly guise is he Who spoke of Sita's name to thee? Who is the wretch whose thought would bring Destruction on the giants' king? Whose is the evil counsel, say, That bids thee bear his wife away, And careless of thy life provoke Earth's loftiest with threatening stroke? A foe is he who dared suggest This hopeless folly to thy breast, Whose ill advice would bid thee draw The venomed fang from serpent's jaw. By whose unwise suggestion led Wilt thou the path of ruin tread? Whence falls the blow that would destroy Thy gentle sleep of ease and joy? Like some wild elephant is he That rears his trunk on high, Lord of an ancient pedigree, Huge tusks, and furious eye. Ravan, no rover of the night With bravest heart can brook, Met in the front of deadly fight, On Raghu's son to look. The giant hosts were brave and strong, Good at the bow and spear: But Rama slew the routed throng, A lion 'mid the deer. No lion's tooth can match his sword, Or arrows fiercely shot: He sleeps, he sleeps--the lion lord; Be wise and rouse him not. O Monarch of the giants, well Upon my counsel think, Lest thou for ever in the hell Of Rama's vengeance sink: A hell, where deadly shafts are sent From his tremendous-bow, While his great arms all flight prevent, Like deepest mire below: Where the wild floods of battle rave Above the foeman's head, And each with many a feathery wave Of shafts is garlanded. O, quench the flames that in thy breast With raging fury burn; And pacified and self-possessed To Lanka's town return. Rest thou in her imperial bowers With thine own wives content, And in the wood let Rama's hours With Sita still be spent."

With joy that sprang from hope restored To Rama spake the Vanar lord: "I know, by wise Hanuman taught, Why thou the lonely wood hast sought. Where with thy brother Lakshman thou Hast sojourned, bound by hermit vow; Have heard how Sita, Janak's child, Was stolen in the pathless wild, How by a roving Rakshas she Weeping was reft from him and thee; How, bent on death, the giant slew The vulture king, her guardian true, And gave thy widowed breast to know A solitary mourner's woe. But soon, dear Prince, thy heart shall be From every trace of sorrow free; For I thy darling will restore, Lost like the prize of holy lore.(558) Yea, though in heaven the lady dwell, Or prisoned in the depths of hell, My friendly care her way shall track And bring thy ransomed darling back. Let this my promise soothe thy care, Nor doubt the words I truly swear. Saints, fiends, and dwellers of the skies Shall find thy wife a bitter prize, Like the rash child who rues too late The treacherous lure of poisoned cate. No longer, Prince, thy loss deplore: Thy darling wife will I restore. 'Twas she I saw: my heart infers That shrinking form was doubtless hers, Which gaint Ravan, fierce and dread, Bore swiftly through the clouds o'erhead Still writhing in his strict embrace Like helpless queen of serpent race,(559) And from her lips that sad voice came Shrieking thine own and Lakshman's name. High on a hill she saw me stand With comrades twain on either hand. Her outer robe to earth she threw, And with it sent her anklets too. We saw the glittering tokens fall, We found them there and kept them all. These will I bring: perchance thine eyes The treasured spoils will recognize."

Thus the impetuous chieftain cried, And Jambavan the sage replied: "Whate'er thy power and might may be, This task, O Prince, is not for thee. Kings go not forth themselves, but send The servants who their best attend. Thou art the darling and the boast, The honoured lord of all the host. In thee the root, O Angad, lies Of our appointed enterprise; And thee, on whom our hopes depend, Our care must cherish and defend."

Soon as each babe was twelve days old 'Twas time the naming rite to hold. When Saint Vasishtha, rapt with joy, Assigned a name to every boy. Rama, to him the high-souled heir, Bharat, to him Kaikeyi bare: Of Queen Sumitra one fair son Was Lakshman, and Satrughna(136) one Rama, his sire's supreme delight, Like some proud banner cheered his sight, And to all creatures seemed to be The self-existent deity. All heroes, versed in holy lore, To all mankind great love they bore. Fair stores of wisdom all possessed, With princely graces all were blest. But mid those youths of high descent, With lordly light preeminent. Like the full moon unclouded, shone Rama, the world's dear paragon. He best the elephant could guide.(137) Urge the fleet car, the charger ride: A master he of bowman's skill, Joying to do his father's will. The world's delight and darling, he Loved Lakshman best from infancy And Lakshman, lord of lofty fate, Upon his elder joyed to wait, Striving his second self to please With friendship's sweet observances. His limbs the hero ne'er would rest Unless the couch his brother pressed; Except beloved Rama shared He could not taste the meal prepared. When Rama, pride of Reghu's race, Sprang on his steed to urge the chase, Behind him Lakshman loved to go And guard him with his trusty bow. As Rama was to Lakshman dear More than his life and ever near, So fond Satrughna prized above His very life his Bharat's love. Illustrious heroes, nobly kind In mutual love they all combined, And gave their royal sire delight With modest grace and warrior might: Supported by the glorious four Shone Dasaratha more and more, As though, with every guardian God Who keeps the land and skies, The Father of all creatures trod The earth before men's eyes.

To him enthralled by love, and blind, Pierced by his darts who shakes the mind,(274) Kaikeyi with remorseless breast Her grand purpose thus expressed: "O King, no insult or neglect Have I endured, or disrespect. One wish I have, and faith would see That longing granted, lord, by thee. Now pledge thy word if thou incline To listen to this prayer of mine, Then I with confidence will speak, And thou shalt hear the boon I seek."

Then while the dust upon him hung, The monarch to Kausalya clung, And she with mournful steps and slow Turned to the palace, worn with woe. As one whose hand has touched the fire, Or slain a Brahman in his ire, He felt his heart with sorrow torn Still thinking of his son forlorn. Each step was torture, as the road The traces of the chariot showed, And as the shadowed sun grows dim So care and anguish darkened him. He raised a cry, by woe distraught, As of his son again he thought. And judging that the car had sped Beyond the city, thus he said: "I still behold the foot-prints made By the good horses that conveyed My son afar: these marks I see, But high-souled Rama, where is he? Ah me, my son! my first and best, On pleasant couches wont to rest, With limbs perfumed with sandal, fanned By many a beauty's tender hand: Where will he lie with log or stone Beneath him for a pillow thrown, To leave at morn his earthy bed, Neglected, and with dust o'erspread, As from the flood with sigh and pant Comes forth the husband elephant? The men who make the woods their home Shall see the long-armed hero roam Roused from his bed, though lord of all, In semblance of a friendless thrall. Janak's dear child who ne'er has met With aught save joy and comfort yet, Will reach to-day the forest, worn And wearied with the brakes of thorn. Ah, gentle girl, of woods unskilled, How will her heart with dread be filled At the wild beasts' deep roaring there, Whose voices lift the shuddering hair! Kaikeyi, glory in thy gain, And, widow queen, begin to reign: No will, no power to live have I When my brave son no more is nigh."

"Thou, worst of giant blood, at length Hast shown the utmost of thy strength, And forced by greater might to bow, Thy vaunting threats are idle now. My shafts have cut thy club in twain: Useless it lies upon the plain, And all thy pride and haughty trust Lie with it levelled in the dust. The words that thou hast said to-day, That thou wouldst wipe the tears away Of all the giants I have slain, My deeds shall render void and vain. Thou meanest of the giants' breed, Evil in thought and word and deed, My hand shall take that life of thine As Garud(476) seized the juice divine. Thou, rent by shafts, this day shalt die: Low on the ground thy corse shall lie, And bubbles from the cloven neck With froth and blood thy skin shall deck. With dust and mire all rudely dyed, Thy torn arms lying by thy side, While streams of blood each limb shall steep, Thou on earth's breast shalt take thy sleep Like a fond lover when he strains The beauty whom at length he gains. Now when thy heavy eyelids close For ever in thy deep repose, Again shall Dandak forest be Safe refuge for the devotee. Thou slain, and all thy race who held The realm of Janasthan expelled, Again shall happy hermits rove, Fearing no danger, through the grove. Within those bounds, their brethren slain, No giant shall this day remain, But all shall fly with many a tear And fearing, rid the saints of fear. This bitter day shall misery bring On all the race that calls thee king. Fierce as their lord, thy dames shall know, Bereft of joys, the taste of woe. Base, cruel wretch, of evil mind, Plaguer of Brahmans and mankind, With trembling hands each devotee Feeds holy fires in dread of thee."

There ceased the Vanar: Rama pressed The treasured jewel to his breast, And from his eyes the waters broke As to the Vanar king he spoke: "As o'er her babe the mother weeps, This flood of tears the jewel steeps. This gem that shone on Sita's head Was Janak's gift when we were wed, And the pure brow that wore it lent New splendour to the ornament. This gem, bright offspring of the wave, The King of Heaven to Janak gave, Whose noble sacrificial rite Had filled the God with new delight. Now, as I gaze upon the prize, Methinks I see my father's eyes. Methinks I see before me stand The ruler of Videha's land.(893) Methinks mine arms are folded now Round her who wore it on her brow. Speak, Hanuman, O say, dear friend, What message did my darling send? O speak, and let thy words impart Their gentle dew to cool my heart. Ah, 'tis the crown of woe to see This gem and ask "Where, where is she?" If for one month her heart be strong, Her days of life will yet be long. But I, with naught to lend relief, This very day must die of grief. Come, Hanuman, and quickly guide The mourner to his darling's side. O lead me--thou hast learnt the way-- I cannot and I will not stay. How can my gentle love endure, So timid, delicate, and pure, The dreadful demons fierce and vile Who watch her in the guarded isle? No more the light of beauty shines From Sita as she weeps and pines. But pain and sorrow, cloud on cloud Her moonlight glory dim and shroud. O speak, dear Hanuman, and tell Each word that from her sweet lips fell, Her words, her words alone can give The healing balm to make me live."(894)

And let not wish or wrath excite Your hearts the meanest guest to slight; But still observe with special grace Those who obtain the foremost place, Whether for happier skill in art Or bearing in the rite their part. Do you, I pray, with friendly mind Perform the task to you assigned, And work the rite, as bids the law, Without omission, slip, or flaw" They answered: "As thou seest fit So will we do and naught omit." The sage Vasistha then addressed Sumantra called at his behest: "The princes of the earth invite, And famous lords who guard the rite, Priest, Warrior, Merchant, lowly thrall, In countless thousands summon all. Where'er their home be, far or near, Gather the good with honour here, And Janak, whose imperial sway The men of Mithila(87) obey. The firm of vow, the dread of foes, Who all the lore of Scripture knows, Invite him here with honour high, King Dasaratha's old ally. And Kasi's(88) lord of gentle speech, Who finds a pleasant word for each, In length of days our monarch's peer, Illustrious king, invite him here. The father of our ruler's bride, Known for his virtues far and wide, The king whom Kekaya's(89) realms obey, Him with his son invite, I pray. And Lomapad the Angas' king, True to his vows and godlike, bring. For be thine invitations sent To west and south and orient. Call those who rule Surashtra's(90) land, Suvira's(91) realm and Sindhu's strand, And all the kings of earth beside In friendship's bonds with us allied: Invite them all to hasten in With retinue and kith and kin." Vasishtha's speech without delay Sumantra bent him to obey. And sent his trusty envoys forth Eastward and westward, south and north. Obedient to the saint's request Himself he hurried forth, and pressed Each nobler chief and lord and king To hasten to the gathering.

Their task achieved, the princes spent That night with joy and full content. Ere yet the dawn was well displayed Their morning rites they duly paid, And sought, while yet the light was faint, The hermits and the mighty saint. They greeted first that holy sire Resplendent like the burning fire, And then with noble words began Their sweet speech to the sainted man: "Here stand, O Lord, thy servants true: Command what thou wouldst have us do."

But Diti, when her sons were slain, Wild with a childless mother's pain, To Kasyap spake, Maricha's son, Her husband: "O thou glorious one! Dead are the children, mine no more, The mighty sons to thee I bore. Long fervour's meed, I crave a boy Whose arm may Indra's life destroy. The toil and pain my care shall be: To bless my hope depends on thee. Give me a mighty son to slay Fierce Indra, gracious lord! I pray."

Him Visvamitra thus addressed: "Why make, O Saint, this new request? Thy welcome and each gracious word Sufficient honour have conferred. Thou gavest roots and fruit to eat, The treasures of this pure retreat, And water for my mouth and feet; And--boon I prize above the rest-- Thy presence has mine eyesight blest. Honoured by thee in every way, To whom all honour all should pay, I now will go. My lord, Good-bye! Regard me with a friendly eye."

That night the son of Raghu lay On Ganga's bank till break of day: Then with the earliest light he woke And thus to brave Satrughna spoke. "Rise up, Satrughna, from thy bed: Why sleepest thou the night is fled. See how the sun who chases night Wakes every lotus with his light. Arise, arise, and first of all The lord of Sringavera call, For he his friendly aid will lend Our army o'er the flood to send."

All swans and geese on mere and brook Their birth from Dhritarashtri took, And all the river-haunting brood Of ducks, a countless multitude. From Suki Nala sprang, who bare Dame Vinata surpassing fair. From fiery Krodhavasa, ten Bright daughters sprang, O King of men: Mrigi and Mrigamanda named, Hari and Bhadramada famed, Sarduli, Sveta fair to see, Matangi bright, and Surabhi, Surasa marked with each fair sign, And Kadruma, all maids divine. Mrigi, O Prince without a peer, Was mother of the herds of deer, The bear, the yak, the mountain roe Their birth to Mrigamanda owe; And Bhadramada joyed to be Mother of fair Iravati, Who bare Airavat,(444) huge of mould, Mid warders of the earth enrolled, From Hari lordly lions trace, With monkeys of the wild, their race. From the great dame Sarduli styled Sprung pards, Langurs,(445) and tigers wild. Matangi, Prince, gave birth to all Matangas, elephants strong and tall, And Sveta bore the beasts who stand One at each wind, earth's warder band.(446) Next Surabhi the Goddess bore Two heavenly maids, O Prince, of yore, Gandharvi--dear to fame is she-- And her sweet sister Rohini. With kine this daughter filled each mead, And bright Gandharvi bore the steed.(447) Surasa bore the serpents:(448) all The snakes Kadru their mother call. Then Manu, high-souled Kasyap's(449) wife, To all the race of men gave life, The Brahmans first, the Kshatriya caste, Then Vaisyas, and the Sudras last. Sprang from her mouth the Brahman race; Her chest the Kshatriyas' natal place: The Vaisyas from her thighs, 'tis said, The Sudras from her feet were bred. From Anala all trees that hang Their fair fruit-laden branches sprang. The child of beauteous Suki bore Vinata, as I taught before: And Surasa and Kadru were Born of one dame, a noble pair. Kadru gave birth to countless snakes That roam the earth in woods and brakes.

"Nay thou hast angered, overbold, Khara our lord, the mighty-souled, And for thy sin, in battle strife Shalt yield to us thy forfeit life. No power hast thou alone to stand Against the numbers of our band. 'Twere vain to match thy single might Against us in the front of fight. When we equipped for fight advance With brandished pike and mace and lance, Thou, vanquished in the desperate field, Thy bow, thy strength, thy life shalt yield."

Through the fair city Lakshman came, Invited in Sugriva's name. Within the gates the guardian bands, Of Vanars raised their suppliant hands, And in their ordered ranks, amazed, Upon the princely hero gazed, They marked each burning breath he drew, The fury of his soul they knew. Their hearts were chilled with sudden fear: They gazed, but dared not venture near, Before his eyes the city, gay With gems and flowery gardens, lay, Where fane and palace rose on high, And things of beauty charmed the eye. Where trees of every blossom grew Yielding their fruit in season due To Vanars of celestial seed Who wore each varied form at need, Fair-faced and glorious with the shine Of heavenly robes and wreaths divine. There sandal, aloe, lotus bloomed, And there delicious breath perfumed The city's broad street, redolent Of sugary mead(636) and honey scent. There many a lofty palace rose Like Vindhya or the Lord of Snows, And with sweet murmur sparkling rills Leapt lightly down the sheltering hills. On many a glorious palace, raised For prince and noble,(637) Lakshman gazed: Like clouds of paly hue they shone With fragrant wreaths that hung thereon: There wealth of jewels was enshrined, And fairer gems of womankind. There gleamed, of noble height and size, Like Indra's mansion in the skies, Protected by a crystal fence Of rock, the royal residence, With roof and turret high and bright Like Mount Kailasa's loftiest height. There blooming trees, Mahendra's gift, High o'er the walls were seen to lift Their golden fruited boughs, that made With leaf and flower delicious shade. He saw a band of Vanars wait, Wielding their weapons, at the gate Where golden portals flashed between Celestial garlands red and green. Within Sugriva's fair abode Unchecked the mighty hero strode, As when the sun of autumn shrouds His glory in a pile of clouds.

Brave chiefs of each opposing side Their strength in single combat tried. Fierce Indrajit the fight began With Angad in the battle's van. Sampati, strongest of his race, Stood with Prajangha face to face. Hanuman, Jambumali met In mortal opposition set. Vibhishan, brother of the lord Of Lanka, raised his threatening sword And singled out, with eyes aglow With wrath, Satrughna for his foe. The mighty Gaja Tapan sought, And Nila with Nikumbha fought. Sugriva, Vanar king, defied Fierce Praghas long in battle tried, And Lakshman fearless in the fight Encountered Virupaksha's might. To meet the royal Rama came Wild Agniketu fierce as flame; Mitraghana, he who loved to strike His foeman and his friend alike: With Rasmiketu, known and feared Where'er his ponderous flag was reared; And Yajnakopa whose delight Was ruin of the sacred rite. These met and fought, with thousands more, And trampled earth was red with gore. Swift as the bolt which Indra sends When fire from heaven the mountain rends Smote Indrajit with furious blows On Angad queller of his foes. But Angad from his foeman tore The murderous mace the warrior bore, And low in dust his coursers rolled, His driver, and his car of gold. Struck by the shafts Prajangha sped, The Vanar chief Sampati bled, But, heedless of his gashes he Crushed down the giant with a tree. Then car-borne Jambumali smote Hanuman on the chest and throat; But at the car the Vanar rushed, And chariot, steeds, and rider crushed. Sugriva whirled a huge tree round, And struck fierce Praghas to the ground. One arrow shot from Lakshman's bow Laid mighty Virupaksha low. His giant foes round Rama pressed And shot their shafts at head and breast; But, when the iron shower was spent, Four arrows from his bow he sent, And every missile, deftly sped; Cleft from the trunk a giant head.(951)

He placed before him dainty fare Of every flavour, rich and rare, Brought forth the gift for honoured guest, And thus again the chief addressed: "Welcome, dear Prince, whose arms are strong; These lands and all to thee belong. Thy servants we, our lord art thou; Begin, good king, thine empire now. See, various food before thee placed, And cups to drink and sweets to taste For thee soft beds are hither borne, And for thy horses grass and corn."

Sumantra bade Satrughna rise, And soothed his soul with counsel wise, And skilled in truth, his hearer taught How all things are and come to naught. When rose each hero from the ground, A lion lord of men, renowned, He showed like Indra's flag,(355) whereon Fierce rains have dashed and suns have shone. They wiped their red and weeping eyes, And gently made their sad replies: Then, urged to haste, the royal pair Performed the rites that claimed their care.

He, banished by his angry sire, Roams with his wife in mean attire. This wretch, his Warrior tribe's disgrace Has slain the best of giant race. Harsh, wicked, fierce and greedy-souled, A fool, with senses uncontrolled, No thought of duty stirs his breast: He joys to see the world distressed. He sought the wood with fair pretence Of truthful life and innocence, But his false hand my sister left Mangled, of nose and ears bereft. This Rama's wife who bears the name Of Sita, in her face and frame Fair as a daughter of the skies,-- Her will I seize and bring the prize Triumphant from the forest shade: For this I seek thy willing aid. If thou, O mighty one, wilt lend Thy help and stand beside thy friend, I with my brothers may defy All Gods embattled in the sky. Come, aid me now, for thine the power To succour in the doubtful hour. Thou art in war and time of fear, For heart and hand, without a peer. For thou art skilled in art and wile, A warrior brave and trained in guile. With this one hope, this only aim, O Rover of the Night, I came. Now let me tell what aid I ask To back me in my purposed task. In semblance of a golden deer Adorned with silver spots appear. Go, seek his dwelling: in the way Of Rama and his consort stray. Doubt not the lady, when she sees The wondrous deer amid the trees, Will bid her lord and Lakshman take The creature for its beauty's sake. Then when the chiefs have parted thence, And left her lone, without defence, As Rahu storms the moonlight, I Will seize the lovely dame and fly. Her lord will waste away and weep For her his valour could not keep. Then boldly will I strike the blow And wreak my vengeance on the foe."

"By Rama's might, and his alone, Can this great fiend be overthrown. I know in days of yore the Blest Thy saving help in fight confessed. Still of thy famous deeds they tell In heaven above, in earth, and hell, A mighty host obeys thy hest: Here let it still, I pray thee, rest. Thy glorious son, though yet a boy, Will in the fight that fiend destroy. Rama alone with me shall go: Be happy, victor of the foe."

"This vilest of the giant race Will draw us to his side apace. Come, rouse thee; let the vengeful sword Smite off his arms, my honoured lord. This awful giant, vast of size, On his huge strength of arm relies, And o'er the world victorious, thus With mighty force would slaughter us. But in cold blood to slay, O King, Discredit on the brave would bring, As when some victim in the rite Shuns not the hand upraised to smite."

"Why cast thy strength of soul away, And weakly yield to passion's sway? Arise, my brother, do and dare Ere action perish in despair. Recall the firmness of thy heart, And nerve thee for a hero's part. Whose is the hand unscathed to sieze The red flame quickened by the breeze? Where is the foe will dare to wrong Or keep the Maithil lady long?" Then with pale lips that sorrow dried The son of Raghu thus replied: "Lord Indra thousand-eyed, has sent The sweet rain from the firmament, Sees the rich promise of the grain, And turns him to his rest again. The clouds with voices loud and deep, Veiling each tree upon the steep, Up on the thirsty earth have shed Their precious burden and are fled. Now in kings' hearts ambition glows: They rush to battle with their foes;(633) But in Sugriva's sloth I see No care for deeds of chivalry. See, Lakshman, on each breezy height A thousand autumn blooms are bright. See how the wings of wild swans gleam On every islet of the stream. Four months of flood and rain are past: A hundred years they seemed to last To me whom toil and trouble tried, My Sita severed from my side. She, gentlest woman, weak and young, Still to her lord unwearied clung. Still by the exile's side she stood In the wild ways of Dandak wood, Like a fond bird disconsolate If parted from her darling mate. Sugriva, lapped in soft repose, Untouched by pity for my woes, Scorns the poor exile, dispossessed, By Ravan's mightier arm oppressed, The wretch who comes to sue and pray From his lost kingdom far away. Hence falls on me the Vanar's scorn, A suitor friendless and forlorn. The time is come: with heedless eye He sees the hour of action fly,-- Unmindful, now his hopes succeed, Of promise made in stress of need.

"What?" cried the tyrant, "are my foes Freed from the binding snakes that close With venomed clasp round head and limb, Bright as the sun and fierce like him: The spell a God bestowed of yore, The spell that never failed before? If arts like these be useless, how Shall giant strength avail us now? Go forth, Dhumraksha, good at need, The bravest of my warriors lead: Force through the foe thy conquering way, And Rama and the Vanars slay."

His reverent hands the Vanar raised And thus the lady's answer praised: "Sweet are the words, O Queen, which thou True to thy lord, hast spoken now, Better than gems and pearls of price, Yea, or the throne of Paradise. But, lady, ere I leave this place, Grant me, I pray, a single grace. Permit me, and this vengeful hand Shall slay thy guards, this Rakshas band, Whose cruel insult threat and scorn Thy gentle soul too long has borne."

He stood upon the lofty crest That crowns the Lord of Snow, And bade the river of the Blest Descend on earth below. Himalaya's child, adored of all, The haughty mandate heard, And her proud bosom, at the call, With furious wrath was stirred. Down from her channel in the skies With awful might she sped With a giant's rush, in a giant's size, On Siva's holy head. "He calls me," in her wrath she cried, "And all my flood shall sweep And whirl him in its whelming tide To hell's profoundest deep." He held the river on his head, And kept her wandering, where, Dense as Himalaya's woods, were spread The tangles of his hair. No way to earth she found, ashamed, Though long and sore she strove, Condemned, until her pride were tamed, Amid his locks to rove. There, many lengthening seasons through, The wildered river ran: Bhagirath saw it, and anew His penance dire began. Then Siva, for the hermit's sake, Bade her long wanderings end, And sinking into Vindu's lake Her weary waves descend. From Ganga, by the God set free, Seven noble rivers came; Hladini, Pavani, and she Called Nalini by name: These rolled their lucid waves along And sought the eastern side. Suchakshu, Sita fair and strong, And Sindhu's mighty tide--(199) These to the region of the west With joyful waters sped: The seventh, the brightest and the best, Flowed where Bhagirath led. On Siva's head descending first A rest the torrents found: Then down in all their might they burst And roared along the ground. On countless glittering scales the beam Of rosy morning flashed, Where fish and dolphins through the stream Fallen and falling dashed. Then bards who chant celestial lays And nymphs of heavenly birth Flocked round upon that flood to gaze That streamed from sky to earth. The Gods themselves from every sphere, Incomparably bright, Borne in their golden cars drew near To see the wondrous sight.

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?"

But Janak's child, my lord, stood by, And oft the votaress heaved a sigh. She seemed with dull and wandering sense, Beneath a spirit's influence. The noble princess, pained with woe Which till that hour she ne'er could know, Tears in her heavy trouble shed, But not a word to me she said. She raised her face which grief had dried And tenderly her husband eyed, Gazed on him as he turned to go While tear chased tear in rapid flow."

That night of sorrow passed away, And rose again the God of Day. Then all the twice-born peers of state Together met for high debate. Javali, lord of mighty fame. And Gautam, and Katyayan came, And Markandeya's reverend age, And Vamadeva, glorious sage: Sprung from Mudgalya's seed the one, The other ancient Kasyap's son. With lesser lords these Brahmans each Spoke in his turn his several speech, And turning to Vasishtha, best Of household priests him thus addressed: "The night of bitter woe has past, Which seemed a hundred years to last, Our king, in sorrow for his son, Reunion with the Five has won. His soul is where the blessed are, While Rama roams in woods afar, And Lakshman, bright in glorious deeds, Goes where his well-loved brother leads. And Bharat and Satrughna, they Who smite their foes in battle fray, Far in the realm of Kekaya stay, Where their maternal grandsire's care Keeps Rajagriha's city fair. Let one of old Ikshvaku's race Obtain this day the sovereign's place, Or havoc and destruction straight Our kingless land will devastate. In kingless lands no thunder's voice, No lightning wreaths the heart rejoice, Nor does Parjanya's heavenly rain Descend upon the burning plain. Where none is king, the sower's hand Casts not the seed upon the land; The son against the father strives. And husbands fail to rule their wives. In kingless realms no princes call Their friends to meet in crowded hall; No joyful citizens resort To garden trim or sacred court. In kingless realms no Twice-born care To sacrifice with text and prayer, Nor Brahmans, who their vows maintain, The great solemnities ordain. The joys of happier days have ceased: No gathering, festival, or feast Together calls the merry throng Delighted with the play and song. In kingless lands it ne'er is well With sons of trade who buy and sell: No men who pleasant tales repeat Delight the crowd with stories sweet.

Then when the pious chief had seen Lodged in her home each widowed queen, Still with his burning grief oppressed His holy guides he thus addressed: "I go to Nandigram: adieu, This day, my lords to all of you: I go, my load of grief to bear, Reft of the son of Raghu, there. The king my sire, alas, is dead, And Rama to the forest fled; There will I wait till he, restored, Shall rule the realm, its rightful lord."

"I doubt not, Prince, thy peerless might, Armed with these shafts so keen and bright, Like all-destroying fires of fate, The worlds could burn and devastate. But lend thou first thy mind and ear Of Bali's power and might to hear. How bold, how firm, in battle tried, Is Bali's heart; and then decide. From east to west, from south to north On restless errand hurrying forth, From farthest sea to sea he flies Before the sun has lit the skies. A mountain top he oft will seek, Tear from its root a towering peak, Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball, And catch it ere to earth it fall. And many a tree that long has stood In health and vigour in the wood, His single arm to earth will throw, The marvels of his might to show. Shaped like a bull, a monster bore The name of Dundubhi of yore: He matched in size a mountain height, A thousand elephants in might. By pride of wondrous gifts impelled, And strength he deemed unparalleled, To Ocean, lord of stream and brook, Athirst for war, his way he took. He reached the king of rolling waves Whose gems are piled in sunless caves, And threw his challenge to the sea; "Come forth, O King, and fight with me." He spoke, and from his ocean bed The righteous(567) monarch heaved his head, And gave, sedate, his calm reply To him whom fate impelled to die: "Not mine, not mine the power," he cried, "To cope with thee in battle tried; But listen to my voice, and seek The worthier foe of whom I speak. The Lord of Hills, where hermits live And love the home his forests give, Whose child is Sankar's darling queen,(568) The King of Snows is he I mean. Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade The torrent and the wild cascade. From him expect the fierce delight Which heroes feel in equal fight."

Then Rama stood by Lakshman's side, And mastered by his sorrow cried: "My brother dear, the heart's distress, As days wear on, grows less and less. But my deep-seated grief, alas, Grows fiercer as the seasons pass. Though for my queen my spirit longs, And broods indignant o'er my wrongs, Still wilder is my grief to know That her young life is passed in woe. Breathe, gentle gale, O breathe where she Lies prisoned, and then breathe on me, And, though my love I may not meet, Thy kiss shall be divinely sweet. Ah, by the giant's shape appalled, On her dear lord for help she called, Still in mine ears the sad cry rings And tears my heart with poison stings. Through the long daylight and the gloom Of night wild thoughts of her consume My spirit, and my love supplies The torturing flame which never dies. Leave me, my brother; I will sleep Couched on the bosom of the deep, For the cold wave may bring me peace And bid the fire of passion cease. One only thought my stay must be, That earth, one earth, holds her and me, To hear, to know my darling lives Some life-supporting comfort gives, As streams from distant fountains run O'er meadows parching in the sun. Ah when, my foeman at my feet, Shall I my queen, my glory, meet, The blossom of her dear face raise And on her eyes enraptured gaze, Press her soft lips to mine again, And drink a balm to banish pain! Alas, alas! where lies she now, My darling of the lovely brow? On the cold earth, no help at hand, Forlorn amid the Rakshas band, King Janak's child still calls on me, Her lord and love, to set her free. But soon in glory will she rise A crescent moon in autumn skies, And those dark rovers of the night, Like scattered clouds shall turn in flight."

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

Then all the princes, lofty-souled, Of wondrous vigour, strong and bold, Saw Vasudeva(190) standing there In Kapil's form he loved to wear, And near the everlasting God The victim charger cropped the sod. They saw with joy and eager eyes The fancied robber and the prize, And on him rushed the furious band Crying aloud, Stand, villain! stand! "Avaunt! avaunt!" great Kapil cried, His bosom flusht with passion's tide; Then by his might that proud array All scorcht to heaps of ashes lay.(191)

"The high-souled king no toil has spared, But nobly for his rite prepared, How many thousand Brahmans here, From every region, far and near, Well read in holy lore, appear! How many tents, that sages screen, With wains in hundreds, here are seen! Great Brahman, let us find a place Where we may stay and rest a space." The hermit did as Rama prayed, And in a spot his lodging made, Far from the crowd, sequestered, clear, With copious water flowing near.

Then burst the people's rapture out In loud acclaim and joyful shout; And when the tumult slowly ceased The king addressed the holy priest: "Give order, Saint, with watchful heed For what the coming rite will need. This day let all things ready wait Mine eldest son to consecrate." Best of all men of second birth Vasishtha heard the lord of earth, And gave commandment to the bands Of servitors with lifted hands Who waited on their master's eye: "Now by to-morrow's dawn supply Rich gold and herbs and gems of price And offerings for the sacrifice, Wreaths of white flowers and roasted rice, And oil and honey, separate; New garments and a car of state, An elephant with lucky signs, A fourfold host in ordered lines, The white umbrella, and a pair Of chowries,(261) and a banner fair; A hundred vases, row on row, To shine like fire in splendid glow, A tiger's mighty skin, a bull With gilded horns most beautiful. All these, at dawn of coming day, Around the royal shrine array, Where burns the fire's undying ray. Each palace door, each city gate With wreaths of sandal decorate. And with the garlands' fragrant scent Let clouds of incense-smoke be blent. Let food of noble kind and taste Be for a hundred thousand placed; Fresh curds with streams of milk bedewed To feed the Brahman multitude. With care be all their wants supplied. And mid the twice-born chiefs divide Rich largess, with the early morn, And oil and curds and roasted corn. Soon as the sun has shown his light Pronounce the prayer to bless the rite, And then be all the Brahmans called And in their ordered seats installed. Let all musicians skilled to play, And dancing-girls in bright array Stand ready in the second ring Within the palace of the king. Each honoured tree, each holy shrine With leaves and flowery wreaths entwine, And here and there beneath the shade Be food prepared and presents laid.

Thus by the lord of men addressed, Rama, of virtue's friends the best, In lore of language duly learned, His answer, reverent, thus returned: "A thousand years, O King, remain O'er this our city still to reign. I in the woods my life will lead: The lust of rule no more I heed. Nine years and five I there will spend, And when the portioned days shall end, Will come, my vows and exile o'er, And clasp thy feet, my King, once more."

"Here, surely, is the home, in sight, Of that illustrious anchorite: Here great Agastya's brother leads A life intent on holy deeds. Warned of each guiding mark and sign, I see them all herein combine: I see the branches bending low Beneath the flowers and fruit they show. A soft air from the forest springs, Fresh from the odorous grass, and brings A spicy fragrance as it flees O'er the ripe fruit of Pippal trees. See, here and there around us high Piled up in heaps cleft billets lie, And holy grass is gathered, bright As strips of shining lazulite. Full in the centre of the shade The hermits' holy fire is laid: I see its smoke the pure heaven streak Dense as a big cloud's dusky peak. The twice-born men their steps retrace From each sequestered bathing-place, And each his sacred gift has brought Of blossoms which his hands have sought. Of all these signs, dear brother, each Agrees with good Sutikshna's speech, And doubtless in this holy bound Agastya's brother will be found. Agastya once, the worlds who viewed With love, a Deathlike fiend subdued, And armed with mighty power, obtained By holy works, this grove ordained To be a refuge and defence From all oppressors' violence. In days of yore within this place Two brothers fierce of demon race, Vatapi dire and Ilval, dwelt, And slaughter mid the Brahmans dealt. A Brahman's form, the fiend to cloak, Fierce Ilval wore, and Sanskrit spoke, And twice-born sages would invite To solemnize some funeral rite. His brother's flesh, concealed within A ram's false shape and borrowed skin,-- As men are wont at funeral feasts,-- He dressed and fed those gathered priests. The holy men, unweeting ill, Took of the food and ate their fill. Then Ilval with a mighty shout Exclaimed "Vatapi, issue out." Soon as his brother's voice he heard, The fiend with ram-like bleating stirred: Rending in pieces every frame, Forth from the dying priests he came.

The bathing and the prayer were o'er; He turned him from the grassy shore, And with his brother and his spouse Sought his fair home beneath the boughs. Sita and Lakshman by his side, On to his cot the hero hied, And after rites at morning due Within the leafy shade withdrew. Then, honoured by the devotees, As royal Rama sat at ease, With Sita near him, o'er his head A canopy of green boughs spread, He shone as shines the Lord of Night By Chitra's(457) side, his dear delight. With Lakshman there he sat and told Sweet stories of the days of old, And as the pleasant time he spent With heart upon each tale intent, A giantess, by fancy led, Came wandering to his leafy shed. Fierce Surpanakha,--her of yore The Ten-necked tyrant's mother bore,-- Saw Rama with his noble mien Bright as the Gods in heaven are seen; Him from whose brow a glory gleamed, Like lotus leaves his full eyes beamed: Long-armed, of elephantine gait, With hair close coiled in hermit plait: In youthful vigour, nobly framed, By glorious marks a king proclaimed: Like some bright lotus lustrous-hued, With young Kandarpa's(458) grace endued: As there like Indra's self he shone, She loved the youth she gazed upon. She grim of eye and foul of face Loved his sweet glance and forehead's grace: She of unlovely figure, him Of stately form and shapely limb: She whose dim locks disordered hung, Him whose bright hair on high brows clung: She whose fierce accents counselled fear, Him whose soft tones were sweet to hear: She whose dire form with age was dried, Him radiant in his youthful pride: She whose false lips maintained the wrong, Him in the words of virtue strong: She cruel-hearted, stained with sin, Him just in deed and pure within. She, hideous fiend, a thing to hate, Him formed each eye to captivate: Fierce passion in her bosom woke, And thus to Raghu's son she spoke:

He heard the words that Lakshman spoke, And memory in his breast awoke, Recalling Indra's words to mind He spoke in gentle tones and kind: "O welcome best of men, are ye Whom, blest by fate, this day I see. A blessing on each trenchant blade That low on earth these arms has laid! Thou, lord of men, incline thine ear The story of my woe to hear, While I the rebel pride declare Which doomed me to the form I wear."

He spoke, and for his words so sweet Good Lakshman paid all honour meet; Then turned and cried to Raghu's son: "Now deem thy task already done, Because this chief of Vanar kind, Son of the God who rules the wind, Declares Sugriva's self would be Assisted in his need by thee. Bright gleams of joy his cheek o'erspread As each glad word of hope he said; And ne'er will one so valiant deign To cheer our hearts with hope in vain."

He ceased; victorious Rama bent His head in token of assent. He sat, and tonsors trimmed with care His tangles of neglected hair Then, duly bathed, the hero shone With all his splendid raiment on. And Sita with the matrons' aid Her limbs in shining robes arrayed, Sumantra then, the charioteer, Drew, ordered by Satrughna near, And stayed within the hermit grove The chariot and the steeds he drove. Therein Sugriva's consorts, graced With gems, and Rama's queen were placed, All fain Ayodhya to behold: And swift away the chariot rolled. Like Indra Lord of Thousand Eyes, Drawn by fleet lions through the skies. Thus radiant in his glory showed King Rama as he homeward rode, In power and might unparalleled. The reins the hand of Bharat held. Above the peerless victor's head The snow-white shade Satrughna spread, And Lakshman's ever-ready hand His forehead with a chourie fanned. Vibhishan close to Lakshman's side Sharing his task a chourie plied. Sugriva on Satrunjay came, An elephant of hugest frame: Nine thousand others bore, behind, The chieftains of the Vanar kind All gay, in forms of human mould, With rich attire and gems and gold. Thus borne along in royal state King Rama reached Ayodbya's gate With merry noise of shells and drums And joyful shouts, He comes, he comes, A Brahman host with solemn tread, And kine the long procession led, And happy maids in ordered bands Threw grain and gold with liberal hands. Neath gorgeous flags that waved in rows On towers and roofs and porticoes. Mid merry crowds who sang and cheered The palace of the king they neared. Then Raghu's son to Bharat, best Of duty's slaves, these words addressed: "Pass onward to the monarch's hall. The high-souled Vanars with thee call, And let the chieftains, as is meet, The widows of our father greet. And to the Vanar king assign Those chambers, best of all, which shine With lazulite and pearl inlaid, And pleasant grounds with flowers and shade."

Urged by these cries on every side Unweariedly their task they plied: And heaps of food like hills in size In boundless plenty met the eyes: And lakes of sauce, each day renewed, Refreshed the weary multitude. And strangers there from distant lands, And women folk in crowded bands The best of food and drink obtained At the great rite the king ordained. Apart from all, the Brahmans there, Thousands on thousands, took their share Of various dainties sweet to taste, On plates of gold and silver placed, All ready set, as, when they willed, The twice-born men their places filled. And servants in fair garments dressed Waited upon each Brahman guest. Of cheerful mind and mien were they, With gold and jewelled earrings gay. The best of Brahmans praised the fare Of countless sorts, of flavour rare: And thus to Raghu's son they cried: "We bless thee, and are satisfied." Between the rites some Brahmans spent The time in learned argument, With ready flow of speech, sedate, And keen to vanquish in debate.(95) There day by day the holy train Performed all rites as rules ordain. No priest in all that host was found But kept the vows that held him bound: None, but the holy Vedas knew, And all their six-fold science(96) too. No Brahman there was found unfit To speak with eloquence and wit. And now the appointed time came near The sacrificial posts to rear. They brought them, and prepared to fix Of Bel(97) and Khadir(98) six and six; Six, made of the Palasa(99) tree, Of Fig-wood one, apart to be: Of Sleshmat(100) and of Devadar(101) One column each, the mightiest far: So thick the two, the arms of man Their ample girth would fail to span. All these with utmost care were wrought By hand of priests in Scripture taught, And all with gold were gilded bright To add new splendour to the rite: Twenty-and-one those stakes in all, Each one-and-twenty cubits tall: And one-and-twenty ribbons there Hung on the pillars, bright and fair.

The monarch, Rama to install, With thoughtful care had ordered all, And now within his home withdrew, Dismissing first his retinue. Now all the town has heard, thought he, What joyful rite the morn will see. So turned he to her bower to cheer With the glad news his darling's ear. Majestic, as the Lord of Night, When threatened by the Dragon's might, Bursts radiant on the evening sky Pale with the clouds that wander by, So Dasaratha, great in fame, To Queen Kaikeyi's palace came. There parrots flew from tree to tree, And gorgeous peacocks wandered free, While ever and anon was heard The note of some glad water-bird. Here loitered dwarf and hump-backed maid, There lute and lyre sweet music played. Here, rich in blossom, creepers twined O'er grots with wondrous art designed, There Champac and Asoka flowers Hung glorious o'er the summer bowers, And mid the waving verdure rose Gold, silver, ivory porticoes. Through all the months in ceaseless store The trees both fruit and blossom bore. With many a lake the grounds were graced; Seats gold and silver, here were placed; Here every viand wooed the taste, It was a garden meet to vie E'en with the home of Gods on high. Within the mansion rich and vast The mighty Dasaratha passed: Not there was his beloved queen On her fair couch reclining seen. With love his eager pulses beat For the dear wife he came to meet, And in his blissful hopes deceived, He sought his absent love and grieved. For never had she missed the hour Of meeting in her sumptuous bower, And never had the king of men Entered the empty room till then. Still urged by love and anxious thought News of his favourite queen he sought, For never had his loving eyes Found her or selfish or unwise. Then spoke at length the warder maid, With hands upraised and sore afraid: "My Lord and King, the queen has sought The mourner's cell with rage distraught."

He heard the monarch, and obeyed, With ready feet that ne'er delayed, And brought before the palace gate The horses and the car of state. Then to the monarch's son he sped, And raising hands of reverence said That the light car which gold made fair, With best of steeds, was standing there. King Dasaratha called in haste The lord o'er all his treasures placed. And spoke, well skilled in place and time, His will to him devoid of crime: "Count all the years she has to live Afar in forest wilds, and give To Sita robes and gems of price As for the time may well suffice." Quick to the treasure-room he went, Charged by that king most excellent, Brought the rich stores, and gave them all To Sita in the monarch's hall. The Maithil dame of high descent Received each robe and ornament, And tricked those limbs, whose lines foretold High destiny, with gems and gold. So well adorned, so fair to view, A glory through the hall she threw: So, when the Lord of Light upsprings, His radiance o'er the sky he flings. Then Queen Kausalya spake at last, With loving arms about her cast, Pressed lingering kisses on her head, And to the high-souled lady said: "Ah, in this faithless world below When dark misfortune comes and woe, Wives, loved and cherished every day, Neglect their lords and disobey. Yes, woman's nature still is this:-- After long days of calm and bliss When some light grief her spirit tries, She changes all her love, or flies. Young wives are thankless, false in soul, With roving hearts that spurn control. Brooding on sin and quickly changed, In one short hour their love estranged. Not glorious deed or lineage fair, Not knowledge, gift, or tender care In chains of lasting love can bind A woman's light inconstant mind. But those good dames who still maintain What right, truth, Scripture, rule ordain-- No holy thing in their pure eyes With one beloved husband vies.

"Canst thou, my brother, Indra's peer, When I thy minister am near, Thus grieve like some forsaken thing, Thou, every creature's lord and king? My vengeful shaft the fiend shall slay, And earth shall drink his blood to-day. The fury which my soul at first Upon usurping Bharat nursed, On this Viradha will I wreak As Indra splits the mountain peak. Winged by this arm's impetuous might My shaft with deadly force The monster in the chest shall smite, And fell his shattered corse."

Thus Rama spake as though his ire Would scorch them with his glance of fire; Then searching farther on the ground The footprint of a fiend he found, And small light traces here and there, Where Sita in her great despair, Shrieking for Rama's help, had fled Before the giant's mighty tread. His careful eye each trace surveyed Which Sita and the fiend had made,-- The quivers and the broken bow And ruined chariot of the foe,-- And told, distraught by fear and grief, His tidings to his brother chief: "O Lakshman, here," he cried "behold My Sita's earrings dropped with gold. Here lie her garlands torn and rent, Here lies each glittering ornament. O look, the ground on every side With blood-like drops of gold is dyed. The fiends who wear each strange disguise Have seized, I ween, the helpless prize. My lady, by their hands o'erpowered, Is slaughtered, mangled, and devoured. Methinks two fearful giants came And waged fierce battle for the dame. Whose, Lakshman, was this mighty bow With pearls and gems in glittering row? Cast to the ground the fragments lie, And still their glory charms the eye. A bow so mighty sure was planned For heavenly God or giant's hand. Whose was this coat of golden mail Which, though its lustre now is pale, Shone like the sun of morning, bright With studs of glittering lazulite? Whose, Lakshman, was this bloom-wreathed shade With all its hundred ribs displayed? This screen, most meet for royal brow, With broken staff lies useless now. And these tall asses, goblin-faced, With plates of golden harness graced, Whose hideous forms are stained with gore Who is the lord whose yoke they bore? Whose was this pierced and broken car That shoots a flame-like blaze afar? Whose these spent shafts at random spread, Each fearful with its iron head,-- With golden mountings fair to see, Long as a chariot's axle-tree? These quivers see, which, rent in twain, Their sheaves of arrows still contain. Whose was this driver?

Those marshalled legions Rama eyed, And thus to King Sugriva cried: "Now, Monarch, ere the hosts proceed, Let Suka, Ravan's spy, be freed." He spoke: the Vanar gave consent And loosed him from imprisonment: And Suka, trembling and afraid, His homeward way to Ravan made. Loud laughed the lord of Lanka's isle: "Where hast thou stayed this weary while? Why is thy plumage marred, and why Do twisted cords thy pinions tie? Say, comest thou in evil plight The victim of the Vanars' spite?"

He ceased: and when his lips were closed Mahodar thus his rede opposed: "Why wilt thou shame thy noble birth And speak like one of little worth? Why boast thee thus in youthful pride Rejecting wisdom for thy guide? How will thy single arm oppose The victor of a thousand foes, Who proved in Janasthan his might And slew the rovers of the night? The remnant of those legions, they Who saw his power that fatal day, Now in this leaguered city dread The mighty chief from whom they fled. And wouldst thou meet the lord of men, Beard the great lion in his den, And, when thine eyes are open, break The slumber of a deadly snake? Who may an equal battle wage With him, so awful in his rage, Fierce as the God of Death whom none May vanquish, Dasaratha's son? But, Ravan, shall the lady still Refuse compliance with thy will? No, listen, King, to this design Which soon shall make the captive thine. This day through Lanka's streets proclaim That four of us(974) of highest fame With Kumbhakarna at our head Will strike the son of Raghu dead. Forth to the battle will we go And prove our prowess on the foe. Then, if our bold attempt succeed, No further plans thy hopes will need. But if in vain our warriors strive, And Raghu's son be left alive, We will return, and, wounded sore, Our armour stained with gouts of gore, Will show the shafts that rent each frame, Keen arrows marked with Rama's name, And say we giants have devoured The princes whom our might o'erpowered. Then let the joyful tidings spread That Raghu's royal sons are dead. To all around thy pleasure show, Gold, pearls, and precious robes, bestow. Gay garlands round the portals twine, Enjoy the banquet and the wine. Then go, the scornful lady seek, And woo her when her heart is weak. Rich robes and gold and gems display, And gently wile her grief away.

He ceased: and Bharat bent his head; Sugriva by the hand he led And passed within the palace where Stood couches which Satrughna's care, With robes and hangings richly dyed, And burning lamps, had seen supplied. Then Bharat spake: "I pray thee, friend, Thy speedy messengers to send, Each sacred requisite to bring That we may consecrate our king." Sugriva raised four urns of gold, The water for the rite to hold, And bade four swiftest Vanars flee And fill them from each distant sea. Then east and west and south and north The Vanar envoys hastened forth. Each in swift flight an ocean sought And back through air his treasure brought, And full five hundred floods beside Pure water for the king supplied. Then girt by many a Brahman sage, Vasishtha, chief for reverend age, High on a throne with jewels graced King Rama and his Sita placed. There by Jabali, far revered, Vijay and Kasyap's son appeared; By Gautam's side Katvayan stood, And Vamadeva wise and good, Whose holy hands in order shed The pure sweet drops on Rama's head. Then priests and maids and warriors, all Approaching at Vasishtha's call, With sacred drops bedewed their king, The centre of a joyous ring, The guardians of the worlds, on high, And all the children of the sky From herbs wherewith their hands were filled Rare juices on his brow distilled. His brows were bound with glistering gold Which Manu's self had worn of old, Bright with the flash of many a gem His sire's ancestral diadem. Satrughna lent his willing aid And o'er him held the regal shade: The monarchs whom his arm had saved The chouries round his forehead waved. A golden chain, that flashed and glowed With gems the God of Wind bestowed: Mahendra gave a glorious string Of fairest pearls to deck the king, The skies with acclamation rang, The gay nymphs danced, the minstrels sang. On that blest day the joyful plain Was clothed anew with golden grain.

The father, swift to feel for woe, Shall on his friend his child bestow; And he shall take her and depart To his own town with joyous heart. The maiden home in triumph led, To Rishyasring the king shall wed. And he with loving joy and pride Shall take her for his honoured bride. And Dasaratha to a rite That best of Brahmans shall invite With supplicating prayer, To celebrate the sacrifice To win him sons and Paradise,(83) That he will fain prepare. From him the lord of men at length The boon he seeks shall gain, And see four sons of boundless strength His royal line maintain." "Thus did the godlike saint of old The will of fate declare, And all that should befall unfold Amid the sages there. O Prince supreme of men, go thou, Consult thy holy guide, And win, to aid thee in thy vow, This Brahman to thy side." Sumantra's counsel, wise and good, King Dasaratha heard, Then by Vasishtha's side he stood And thus with him conferred: "Sumantra counsels thus: do thou My priestly guide, the plan allow." Vasishtha gave his glad consent, And forth the happy monarch went With lords and servants on the road That led to Rishyasring's abode. Forests and rivers duly past, He reached the distant town at last Of Lomapad the Angas' king, And entered it with welcoming. On through the crowded streets he came, And, radiant as the kindled flame, He saw within the monarch's house The hermit's son most glorious. There Lomapad, with joyful breast, To him all honour paid, For friendship for his royal guest His faithful bosom swayed. Thus entertained with utmost care Seven days, or eight, he tarried there, And then that best of men thus broke His purpose to the king, and spoke: "O King of men, mine ancient friend, (Thus Dasaratha prayed) Thy Santa with her husband send My sacrifice to aid." Said he who ruled the Angas, Yea, And his consent was won: And then at once he turned away To warn the hermit's son.

He told him of their ties beyond Their old affection's faithful bond: "This king," he said, "from days of old A well beloved friend I hold. To me this pearl of dames he gave From childless woe mine age to save, The daughter whom he loved so much, Moved by compassion's gentle touch. In him thy Santas father see: As I am even so is he. For sons the childless monarch yearns: To thee alone for help he turns. Go thou, the sacred rite ordain To win the sons he prays to gain: Go, with thy wife thy succour lend, And give his vows a blissful end." The hermit's son with quick accord Obeyed the Angas' mighty lord, And with fair Santa at his side To Dasaratha's city hied. Each king, with suppliant hands upheld, Gazed on the other's face: And then by mutual love impelled Met in a close embrace. Then Dasaratha's thoughtful care, Before he parted thence, Bade trusty servants homeward bear The glad intelligence: "Let all the town be bright and gay With burning incense sweet; Let banners wave, and water lay The dust in every street." Glad were the citizens to learn The tidings of their lord's return, And through the city every man Obediently his task began. And fair and bright Ayodhya showed, As following his guest he rode Through the full streets where shell and drum Proclaimed aloud the king was come. And all the people with delight Kept gazing on their king, Attended by that youth so bright, The glorious Rishyasring. When to his home the king had brought The hermit's saintly son, He deemed that all his task was wrought, And all he prayed for won. And lords who saw that stranger dame So beautiful to view, Rejoiced within their hearts, and came And paid her honour too. There Rishyasring passed blissful days, Graced like the king with love and praise And shone in glorious light with her, Sweet Santa, for his minister, As Brahma's son Vasishtha, he Who wedded Saint Arundhati.(84)

Soon as the king his lips had stilled, Up rose Vasishtha, speaker skilled. And to Videha's lord began In flowing words that holy man: "From viewless Nature Brahma rose, No change, no end, no waste he knows. A son had he Marichi styled, And Kasyap was Marichi's child. From him Vivasvat sprang: from him Manu whose fame shall ne'er be dim. Manu, who life to mortals gave, Begot Ikshvaku good and brave. First of Ayodhya's kings was he, Pride of her famous dynasty. From him the glorious Kukshi sprang, Whose fame through all the regions rang. Rival of Kukshi's ancient fame, His heir, the great Vikukshi, came, His son was Vana, lord of might; His Anaranya, strong to fight. His son was Prithu, glorious name; From him the good Trisanku came. He left a son renowned afar, Known by the name of Dhundhumar. His son, who drove the mighty car, Was Yuvanasva, feared in war. He passed away. Him followed then His son Mandhata, king of men. His son was blest in high emprise, Susandhi, fortunate and wise. Two noble sons had he, to wit Dhruvasandhi and Prasenajit. Bharat was Dhruvasandhi's son, And glorious fame that monarch won. The warrior Asit he begot. Asit had warfare, fierce and hot, With rival kings in many a spot, Haihayas, Talajanghas styled, And Sasivindus, strong and wild. Long time he strove, but forced to yield Fled from his kingdom and the field. With his two wives away he fled Where high Himalaya lifts his head, And, all his wealth and glory past, He paid the dues of Fate at last. The wives he left had both conceived-- So is the ancient tale believed-- One, of her rival's hopes afraid Fell poison in her viands laid. It chanced that Chyavan, Bhrigu's child, Had wandered to that pathless wild, And there Himalaya's lovely height Detained him with a strange delight. There came the other widowed queen, With lotus eyes and beauteous mien, Longing a noble son to bear, And wooed the saint with earnest prayer.

In kingless realms we ne'er behold Young maidens decked with gems and gold, Flock to the gardens blithe and gay To spend their evening hours in play. No lover in the flying car Rides with his love to woods afar. In kingless lands no wealthy swain Who keeps the herd and reaps the grain, Lies sleeping, blest with ample store, Securely near his open door. Upon the royal roads we see No tusked elephant roaming free, Of three-score years, whose head and neck Sweet tinkling bells of silver deck. We hear no more the glad applause When his strong bow each rival draws, No clap of hands, no eager cries That cheer each martial exercise. In kingless realms no merchant bands Who travel forth to distant lands, With precious wares their wagons load, And fear no danger on the road. No sage secure in self-control, Brooding on God with mind and soul, In lonely wanderings finds his home Where'er at eve his feet may roam. In kingless realms no man is sure He holds his life and wealth secure. In kingless lands no warriors smite The foeman's host in glorious fight. In kingless lands the wise no more, Well trained in Scripture's holy lore, In shady groves and gardens meet To argue in their calm retreat. No longer, in religious fear, Do they who pious vows revere, Bring dainty cates and wreaths of flowers As offerings to the heavenly powers. No longer, bright as trees in spring, Shine forth the children of the king Resplendent in the people's eyes With aloe wood and sandal dyes. A brook where water once has been, A grove where grass no more is green, Kine with no herdsman's guiding hand-- So wretched is a kingless land. The car its waving banner rears, Banner of fire the smoke appears: Our king, the banner of our pride, A God with Gods is glorified. In kingless lands no law is known, And none may call his wealth his own, Each preys on each from hour to hour, As fish the weaker fish devour.

When Bharat's anger-sharpened tongue Reproaches on the queen had flung, Again, with mighty rage possessed, The guilty dame he thus addressed: "Flee, cruel, wicked sinner, flee, Let not this kingdom harbour thee. Thou who hast thrown all right aside, Weep thou for me when I have died. Canst thou one charge against the king, Or the most duteous Rama bring? The one thy sin to death has sent, The other chased to banishment. Our line's destroyer, sin defiled Like one who kills an unborn child, Ne'er with thy lord in heaven to dwell, Thy portion shall be down in hell Because thy hand, that stayed for naught, This awful wickedness has wrought, And ruined him whom all held dear, My bosom too is stirred with fear. My father by thy sin is dead, And Rama to the wood is fled; And of thy deed I bear the stain, And fameless in the world remain. Ambitious, evil-souled, in show My mother, yet my direst foe. My throning ne'er thine eyes shall bless, Thy husband's wicked murderess. Thou art not Asvapati's child, That righteous king most sage and mild, But thou wast born a fiend, a foe My father's house to overthrow. Thou who hast made Kausalya, pure, Gentle, affectionate, endure The loss of him who was her bliss,-- What worlds await thee, Queen, for this? Was it not patent to thy sense That Rama was his friends' defence, Kausalya's own true child most dear, The eldest and his father's peer? Men in the son not only trace The father's figure, form, and face, But in his heart they also find The offspring of the father's mind; And hence, though dear their kinsmen are, To mothers sons are dearer far. There goes an ancient legend how Good Surabhi, the God-loved cow, Saw two of her dear children strain, Drawing a plough and faint with pain. She saw them on the earth outworn, Toiling till noon from early morn, And as she viewed her children's woe, A flood of tears began to flow.

Then Rama turned him to retrace The path that brought him to the place, And up the mountain's pleasant side Where lovely lawns lay fair, he hied. Soon as his cottage door he gained His brothers to his breast he strained. From them and Sita in their woes So loud the cry of weeping rose, That like the roar of lions round The mountain rolled the echoing sound. And Bharat's army shook with fear The weeping of the chiefs to hear. "Bharat," the soldiers cried, "'tis plain, His brother Rama meets again, And with these cries that round us ring They sorrow for their sire the king." Then leaving car and wain behind, One eager thought in every mind, Swift toward the weeping, every man, As each could find a passage, ran. Some thither bent their eager course With car, and elephant, and horse, And youthful captains on their feet With longing sped their lord to meet, As though the new-come prince had been An exile for long years unseen. Earth beaten in their frantic zeal By clattering hoof and rumbling wheel, Sent forth a deafening noise as loud As heaven when black with many a cloud. Then, with their consorts gathered near, Wild elephants in sudden fear Rushed to a distant wood, and shed An odour round them as they fled. And every silvan thing that dwelt Within those shades the terror felt, Deer, lion, tiger, boar and roe, Bison, wild-cow, and buffalo. And when the tumult wild they heard, With trembling pinions flew each bird, From tree, from thicket, and from lake, Swan, koil, curlew, crane, and drake. With men the ground was overspread, With startled birds the sky o'erhead. Then on his sacrificial ground The sinless, glorious chief was found. Loading with curses deep and loud The hump-back and the queen, the crowd Whose cheeks were wet, whose eyes were dim, In fond affection ran to him. While the big tears their eyes bedewed, He looked upon the multitude, And then as sire and mother do, His arms about his loved ones threw.

As haply on the boundless main Meet drifting logs and part again, So wives and children, friends and gold, Ours for a little time we hold: Soon by resistless laws of fate To meet no more we separate. In all this changing world not one The common lot of all can shun: Then why with useless tears deplore The dead whom tears can bring no more? As one might stand upon the way And to a troop of travellers say: "If ye allow it, sirs, I too Will travel on the road with you:" So why should mortal man lament When on that path his feet are bent Which all men living needs must tread, Where sire and ancestors have led? Life flies as torrents downward fall Speeding away without recall, So virtue should our thoughts engage, For bliss(382) is mortals' heritage. By ceaseless care and earnest zeal For servants and for people's weal, By gifts, by duty nobly done, Our glorious sire the skies has won. Our lord the king, o'er earth who reigned, A blissful home in heaven has gained By wealth in ample largess spent, And many a rite magnificent: With constant joy from first to last A long and noble life he passed, Praised by the good, no tears should dim Our eyes, O brother dear, for him. His human body, worn and tried By length of days, he cast aside, And gained the godlike bliss to stray In Brahma's heavenly home for aye. For such the wise as we are, deep In Veda lore, should never weep. Those who are firm and ever wise Spurn vain lament and idle sighs. Be self-possessed: thy grief restrain: Go, in that city dwell again. Return, O best of men, and be Obedient to our sire's decree, While I with every care fulfil Our holy father's righteous will, Observing in the lonely wood His charge approved by all the good." Thus Rama of the lofty mind To Bharat spoke his righteous speech, By every argument designed Obedience to his sire to teach.

As forth upon its errand went That huge ferocious armament, An awful cloud, in dust and gloom, With threatening thunders from its womb Poured in sad augury a flood Of rushing water mixt with blood. The monarch's steeds, though strong and fleet, Stumbled and fell: and yet their feet Passed o'er the bed of flowers that lay Fresh gathered on the royal way. No gleam of sunlight struggled through The sombre pall of midnight hue, Edged with a line of bloody red, Like whirling torches overhead. A vulture, fierce, of mighty size. Terrific with his cruel eyes, Perched on the staff enriched with gold, Whence hung the flag in many a fold. Each ravening bird, each beast of prey Where Janasthan's wild thickets lay, Rose with a long discordant cry And gathered as the host went by. And from the south long, wild, and shrill, Came spirit voices boding ill. Like elephants in frantic mood, Vast clouds terrific, sable-hued, Hid all the sky where'er they bore Their load of water mixt with gore. Above, below, around were spread Thick shades of darkness strange and dread, Nor could the wildered glance descry A point or quarter of the sky. Then came o'er heaven a sanguine hue, Though evening's flush not yet was due, While each ill-omened bird that flies Assailed the king with harshest cries. There screamed the vulture and the crane, And the loud jackal shrieked again. Each hideous thing that bodes aright Disaster in the coming fight, With gaping mouth that hissed and flamed, The ruin of the host proclaimed. Eclipse untimely reft away The brightness of the Lord of Day, And near his side was seen to glow A mace-like comet boding woe. Then while the sun was lost to view A mighty wind arose and blew, And stars like fireflies shed their light, Nor waited for the distant night. The lilies drooped, the brooks were dried, The fish and birds that swam them died, And every tree that was so fair With flower and fruit was stripped and bare.

Against his judgment sorely pressed By his imperious lord's behest, Maricha threats of death defied And thus with bitter words replied: "Ah, who, my King, with sinful thought This wild and wicked counsel taught, By which destruction soon will fall On thee, thy sons, thy realm and all? Who is the guilty wretch who sees With envious eye thy blissful ease, And by this plan, so falsely shown, Death's gate for thee has open thrown? With souls impelled by mean desire Thy foes against thy life conspire. They urge thee to destruction's brink, And gladly would they see thee sink. Who with base thought to work thee woe This fatal road has dared to show, And, triumph in his wicked eye, Would see thee enter in and die? To all thy counsellors, untrue, The punishment of death is due, Who see thee tempt the dangerous way, Nor strain each nerve thy foot to stay. Wise lords, whose king, by passion led, The path of sin begins to tread, Restrain him while there yet is time: But thine,--they see nor heed the crime. These by their master's will obtain Merit and fame and joy and gain. 'Tis only by their master's grace That servants hold their lofty place. But when the monarch stoops to sin They lose each joy they strive to win, And all the people people high and low Fall in the common overthrow. Merit and fame and honour spring, Best of the mighty, from the king. So all should strive with heart and will To keep the king from every ill. Pride, violence, and sullen hate Will ne'er maintain a monarch's state, And those who cruel deeds advise Must perish when their master dies, Like drivers with their cars o'erthrown In places rough with root and stone. The good whose holy lives were spent On duty's highest laws intent, With wives and children many a time Have perished for another's crime. Hapless are they whose sovereign lord, Opposed to all, by all abhorred, Is cruel-hearted, harsh, severe: Thus might a jackal tend the deer.

O Lord of Day whose eye sees all We act and plan, on thee I call: For naught is hidden from thy sight,-- Great witness thou of wrong and right. Where is she, lost or torn away? Dispel my torturing doubt and say. And O thou Wind who blowest free, The worlds have naught concealed from thee. List to my prayer, reveal one trace Of her, the glory of her race. Say, is she stolen hence, or dead, Or do her feet the forest tread?"