Ramayana on Friendship

Thus counselled by their friendly guide On through the wood the princes hied, Pursuing still the eastern road To Pampa which Kabandha showed, Where trees that on the mountains grew With fruit like honey charmed the view. They rested weary for the night Upon a mountain's wooded height, Then onward with the dawn they hied And stood on Pampa's western side, Where Savari's fair home they viewed Deep in that shady solitude. The princes reached the holy ground Where noble trees stood thick around, And joying in the lovely view Near to the aged votaress drew. To meet the sons of Raghu came, With hands upraised, the pious dame, And bending low with reverence meet Welcomed them both and pressed their feet. Then water, as beseems, she gave, Their lips to cool, their feet to lave. To that pure saint who never broke One law of duty Rama spoke:

This answered, to Sugriva then Thus spake anew the king of men: "Do thou who knowest right ordain Prince Angad consort of thy reign; For he is noble, true, and bold, And trained a righteous course to hold Gifts like his sire's that youth adorn Born eldest to the eldest born. This is the month of Sravan,(612) first Of those that see the rain-clouds burst. Four months, thou knowest well, extends The season when the rain descends. No time for deeds of war is this: Seek thou thy fair metropolis, And I with Lakshman, O my friend, The time upon this hill will spend. An ample cavern opens there Made lovely by the mountain air, And lotuses and lilies fill The pleasant lake and murmuring rill. When Kartik's(613) month shall clear the skies, Then tempt the mighty enterprise. Now, chieftain to thy home repair, And be anointed sovereign there."

Then Angad spake: "We Vanars well Have searched each valley, cave, and dell, And hill, and brook, and dark recess, And tangled wood, and wilderness. But all in vain: no eye has seen The robber or the Maithil queen. A dreary time has passed away, And stern is he we all obey. Come, cast your grief and sloth aside: Again be every effort tried; So haply may our toil attain The sweet success that follows pain. Laborious effort, toil, and skill, The firm resolve, the constant will Secure at last the ends we seek: Hence, O my friends, I boldly speak. Once more then, noble hearts, once more Let us to-day this wood explore, And, languor and despair subdued, Purchase success with toil renewed. Sugriva is a king austere, And Rama's wrath we needs must fear. Come, Vanars, ye think it wise, And do the thing that I advise."

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

Obedient to his master's hest Quick from the cot he brought the vest; The hermit took it from his hand, And tightened round his waist the band; Then duly dipped and bathed him there, And muttered low his secret prayer. To spirits and to Gods he made Libation of the stream, and strayed Viewing the forest deep and wide That spread its shade on every side. Close by the bank he saw a pair Of curlews sporting fearless there. But suddenly with evil mind An outcast fowler stole behind, And, with an aim too sure and true, The male bird near the hermit slew. The wretched hen in wild despair With fluttering pinions beat the air, And shrieked a long and bitter cry When low on earth she saw him lie, Her loved companion, quivering, dead, His dear wings with his lifeblood red; And for her golden crested mate She mourned, and was disconsolate.

From town and country, far and near, He summoned people, prince, and peer. To each he gave a meet abode, And honoured all and gifts bestowed. Then, splendid in his king's attire, He viewed them, as the general Sire, In glory of a God arrayed, Looks on the creatures he has made. But Kekaya's king he called not then For haste, nor Janak, lord of men; For after to each royal friend The joyful tidings he would send. Mid crowds from distant countries met The king upon his throne was set; Then honoured by the people, all The rulers thronged into the hall. On thrones assigned, each king in place Looked silent on the monarch's face. Then girt by lords of high renown And throngs from hamlet and from town He showed in regal pride, As, honoured by the radiant band Of blessed Gods that round him stand, Lord Indra, Thousand-eyed.

Then fearless, atheists overleap The bounds of right the godly keep, And when no royal powers restrain, Preeminence and lordship gain. As in the frame of man the eye Keeps watch and ward, a careful spy, The monarch in his wide domains Protects the truth, the right maintains. He is the right, the truth is he, Their hopes in him the well-born see. On him his people's lives depend, Mother is he, and sire, and friend. The world were veiled in blinding night, And none could see or know aright, Ruled there no king in any state The good and ill to separate. We will obey thy word and will As if our king were living still: As keeps his bounds the faithful sea, So we observe thy high decree. O best of Brahmans, first in place, Our kingless land lies desolate: Some scion of Ikshvaku's race Do thou as monarch consecrate."

The sage his eyes on Rama bent, Of virtue's friends preeminent; Then words like these he spoke, and pressed The son of Raghu to his breast: "Welcome to thee, illustrious youth, Best champion of the rights of truth! By thine approach this holy ground A worthy lord this day has found. I could not quit this mortal frame Till thou shouldst come, O dear to fame: To heavenly spheres I would not rise, Expecting thee with eager eyes. I knew that thou, unkinged, hadst made Thy home in Chitrakuta's shade. E'en now, O Rama, Indra, lord Supreme by all the Gods adored, King of the Hundred Offerings,(421) said, When he my dwelling visited, That the good works that I have done My choice of all the worlds have won. Accept this meed of holy vows, And with thy brother and thy spouse, Roam, through my favour, in the sky Which saints celestial glorify."

"Yes, when a soul defiled with sin Shall mount to heaven and enter in, Then, chieftain, will experience teach The truth of thy disdainful speech. Can I, or thou, or these or all Our bravest compass Rama's fall, The chief in whom all virtues shine, The pride of old Ikshvaku'a line, With whom the Gods may scarce compare In skill to act, in heart to dare? Yea, idly mayst thou vaunt thee, till Sharp arrows winged with matchless skill From Rama's bowstring, fleet and fierce As lightning's flame, thy body pierce. Nikumbha shall not save thee then, Nor Ravan, from the lord of men. O Monarch, hear my last appeal, My counsel for thy kingdom's weal. This sentence I again declare: O giant King, beware, beware! Save from the ruin that impends Thy town, thy people, and thy friends; O hear the warning urged once more: To Raghu's son the dame restore."

"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."

"A great emprise, O lovely maid, To save the Gods, awaits thine aid: To bind the son of Kusik sure, And take his soul with love's sweet lure." Thus order'd by the Thousand-eyed The suppliant nymph in fear replied: "O Lord of Gods, this mighty sage Is very fierce and swift to rage. I doubt not, he so dread and stern On me his scorching wrath will turn. Of this, my lord, am I afraid: Have mercy on a timid maid." Her suppliant hands began to shake, When thus again Lord Indra spake: "O Rambha, drive thy fears away, And as I bid do thou obey. In Koil's form, who takes the heart When trees in spring to blossom start, I, with Kandarpa for my friend, Close to thy side mine aid will lend. Do thou thy beauteous splendour arm With every grace and winsome charm, And from his awful rites seduce This Kusik's son, the stern recluse."

As thus the mighty Danu prayed With offer of his friendly aid, While Lakshman gazed with anxious eye, The virtuous Rama made reply: "Lakshman and I through forest shade From Janasthan a while had strayed. When none was near her, Ravan came And bore away my glorious dame, The giant's form and size unknown, I learn as yet his name alone. Not yet the power and might we know Or dwelling of the monstrous foe. With none our helpless feet to guide We wander here by sorrow tried. Let pity move thee to requite Our service in the funeral rite. Our hands shall bring the boughs that, dry Where elephants have rent them, lie, Then dig a pit, and light the fire To burn thee as the laws require. Do thou as meed of this declare Who stole my spouse, his dwelling where. O, if thou can, I pray thee say, And let this grace our deeds repay."

Think not of wretched Rama: he Is less than nothing now to thee. Stript of his glory, poor, dethroned, A wanderer by his friends disowned, On the cold earth he lays his head, Or is with toil and misery dead. And if perchance he lingers yet, His eyes on thee shall ne'er be set. Could he, that mighty monarch, who Was named Hiranyakasipu, Could he who wore the garb of gold Win Glory back from Indra's hold?(831) O lady of the lovely smile, Whose eyes the sternest heart beguile, In all thy radiant beauty dressed My heart and soul thou ravishest. What though thy robe is soiled and worn, And no bright gems thy limbs adorn, Thou unadorned art dearer far Than all my loveliest consorts are. My royal home is bright and fair; A thousand beauties meet me there, But come, my glorious love, and be The queen of all those dames and me."

Then thus the king addressed the sage: "No power have I, my lord, to wage War with this evil-minded foe; Now pity on my darling show, And upon me of hapless fate, For thee as God I venerate. Gods, spirits, bards of heavenly birth,(145) The birds of air, the snakes of earth Before the might of Ravan quail, Much less can mortal man avail. He draws, I hear, from out the breast The valour of the mightiest. No, ne'er can I with him contend, Or with the forces he may send. How can I then my darling lend, Godlike, unskilled in battle? No, I will not let my young child go. Foes of thy rite, those mighty ones, Sunda and Upasunda's sons, Are fierce as Fate to overthrow: I will not let my young child go. Maricha and Suvahu fell Are valiant and instructed well. One of the twain I might attack. With all my friends their lord to back."

As Guha thus, and Bharat, each To other spoke in friendly speech, The Day-God sank with glory dead, And night o'er all the sky was spread. Soon as King Guha's thoughtful care Had quartered all the army there, Well honoured, Bharat laid his head Beside Satrughna on a bed. But grief for Rama yet oppressed High-minded Bharat's faithful breast-- Such torment little was deserved By him who ne'er from duty swerved. The fever raged through every vein And burnt him with its inward pain: So when in woods the flames leap free The fire within consumes the tree. From heat of burning anguish sprung The sweat upon his body hung, As when the sun with fervid glow On high Himalaya melts the snow. As, banished from the herd, a bull Wanders alone and sorrowful. Thus sighing and distressed, In misery and bitter grief, With fevered heart that mocked relief, Distracted in his mind, the chief Still mourned and found no rest.

Then lest the people should repeat Their visit to his calm retreat, Away from Chitrakuta's hill Fared Rama ever onward till Beneath the shady trees he stood Of Dandaka's primeval wood, Viradha, giant fiend, he slew, And then Agastya's friendship knew. Counselled by him he gained the sword And bow of Indra, heavenly lord: A pair of quivers too, that bore Of arrows an exhaustless store. While there he dwelt in greenwood shade The trembling hermits sought his aid, And bade him with his sword and bow Destroy the fiends who worked them woe: To come like Indra strong and brave, A guardian God to help and save. And Rama's falchion left its trace Deep cut on Surpanakha's face: A hideous giantess who came Burning for him with lawless flame. Their sister's cries the giants heard. And vengeance in each bosom stirred: The monster of the triple head. And Dushan to the contest sped. But they and myriad fiends beside Beneath the might of Rama died.

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.

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

Now when the high-souled monarch's rite, The Asvamedh, was finished quite, Their sacrificial dues obtained, The Gods their heavenly homes regained. The lofty-minded saints withdrew, Each to his place, with honour due, And kings and chieftains, one and all, Who came to grace the festival. And Dasaratha, ere they went, Addressed them thus benevolent: "Now may you, each with joyful heart, To your own realms, O Kings, depart. Peace and good luck attend you there, And blessing, is my friendly prayer; Let cares of state each mind engage To guard his royal heritage. A monarch from his throne expelled No better than the dead is held. So he who cares for power and might Must guard his realm and royal right. Such care a meed in heaven will bring Better than rites and offering. Such care a king his country owes As man upon himself bestows, When for his body he provides Raiment and every need besides. For future days should kings foresee, And keep the present error-free."

"Kausalya and Sumitra dear, And thou, my sweet Kaikeyi, hear. All upon Santa feast your gaze, The last time for a length of days." To Santa's arms the ladies leapt, And hung about her neck and wept, And cried, "O, happy be the life Of this great Brahman and his wife. The Wind, the Fire, the Moon on high, The Earth, the Streams, the circling Sky, Preserve thee in the wood, true spouse, Devoted to thy husband's vows. And O dear Santa, ne'er neglect To pay the dues of meek respect To the great saint, thy husband's sire, With all observance and with fire. And, sweet one, pure of spot and blame, Forget not thou thy husband's claim; In every change, in good and ill, Let thy sweet words delight him still, And let thy worship constant be: Her lord is woman's deity. To learn thy welfare, dearest friend, The king will many a Brahman send. Let happy thoughts thy spirit cheer, And be not troubled, daughter dear."

Thus said Vasishtha, and again To Rama spake in duteous strain: "All men the light of life who see With high respect should look on three: High honour ne'er must be denied To father, mother, holy guide. First to their sires their birth they owe, Nursed with maternal love they grow: Their holy guides fair knowledge teach: So men should love and honour each. Thy sire and thou have learned of me, The sacred guide of him and thee, And if my word thou wilt obey Thou still wilt keep the virtuous way. See, with the chiefs of every guild And all thy friends, this place is filled: All these, as duty bids, protect; So still the righteous path respect. O, for thine aged mother feel, Nor spurn the virtuous dame's appeal: Obey, O Prince, thy mother dear, And still to virtue's path adhere. Yield thou to Bharat's fond request, With earnest supplication pressed, So wilt thou to thyself be true, And faith and duty still pursue."

The king was welcomed in, and shown A seat beside the hermit's own, Who offered him, when resting there, Fruit in due course, and woodland fare. And Visvamitra, noblest king, Received Vasishtha's welcoming, Turned to his host, and prayed him tell That he and all with him were well. Vasishtha to the king replied That all was well on every side, That fire, and vows, and pupils throve, And all the trees within the grove. And then the son of Brahma, best Of all who pray with voice suppressed, Questioned with pleasant words like these The mighty king who sate at ease: "And is it well with thee? I pray; And dost thou win by virtuous sway Thy people's love, discharging all The duties on a king that fall? Are all thy servants fostered well? Do all obey, and none rebel? Hast thou, destroyer of the foe, No enemies to overthrow? Does fortune, conqueror! still attend Thy treasure, host, and every friend? Is it all well? Does happy fate On sons and children's children wait?"

Sumantra, sad and all dismayed, The chieftain's order swift obeyed. Within the palace doors he hied And saw the king, who wept and sighed. Like the great sun when wrapped in shade Like fire by ashes overlaid, Or like a pool with waters dried, So lay the world's great lord and pride, A while the wise Sumantra gazed On him whose senses woe has dazed, Grieving for Rama. Near he drew With hands upraised in reverence due. With blessing first his king he hailed; Then with a voice that well-nigh failed, In trembling accents soft and low Addressed the monarch in his woe: "The prince of men, thy Rama, waits Before thee at the palace gates. His wealth to Brahmans he has dealt, And all who in his home have dwelt. Admit thy son. His friends have heard His kind farewell and parting word, He longs to see thee first, and then Will seek the wilds, O King of men. He, with each princely virtue's blaze, Shines as the sun engirt by rays."

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

But none of all the host was found To clear the sea with desperate bound, Though each, as Angad bade, declared His proper power and what he dared.(779) Then spake good Jambavan the sage, Chief of them all for reverend age; "I, Vanar chieftains, long ago Limbs light to leap could likewise show, But now on frame and spirit weighs The burthen of my length of days. Still task like this I may not slight, When Rama and our king unite. So listen while I tell, O friends, What lingering strength mine age attends. If my poor leap may aught avail, Of ninety leagues, I will not fail. Far other strength in youth's fresh prime I boasted, in the olden time, When, at Prahlada's(780) solemn rite, I circled in my rapid flight Lord Vishnu, everlasting God, When through the universe he trod. But now my limbs are weak and old, My youth is fled, its fire is cold, And these exhausted nerves to strain In such a task were idle pain."

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

"One day," Vibhishan cried, "one day Shall bear thee o'er that length of way. Is not the wondrous chariot mine, Named Pushpak, wrought by hands divine. The prize which Ravan seized of old Victorious o'er the God of Gold? This chariot, kept with utmost care, Will waft thee through the fields of air, And thou shalt light unwearied down In fair Ayodhya's royal town. But yet if aught that I have done Has pleased thee well, O Raghu's son; If still thou carest for thy friend, Some little time in Lanka spend; There after toil of battle rest Within my halls an honoured guest." Again the son of Raghu spake: "Thy life was perilled for my sake. Thy counsel gave me priceless aid: All honours have been richly paid. Scarce can my love refuse, O best Of giant kind, thy last request. But still I yearn once more to see My home and all most dear to me; Nor can I brook one hour's delay: Forgive me, speed me on my way."

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

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

See, see our leafy cot between Those waving boughs of densest green, Where Ravan seized his prize and stole My love the darling of my soul. O, look again: beneath thee gleams Godavari the best of streams, Whose lucid waters sweetly glide By lilies that adorn her side. There dwelt Agastya, holy sage, In plantain-sheltered hermitage. See Sarabhanga's humble shed Which sovereign Indra visited. See where the gentle hermits dwell Neath Atri's rule who loved us well; Where once thine eyes were blest to see His sainted dame who talked with thee. Now rest thine eyes with new delight On Chitrakuta's woody height, See Jumna flashing in the sun Through groves of brilliant foliage run. Screened by the shade of spreading boughs. There Bharadvaja keeps his vows, There Ganga, river of the skies, Rolls the sweet wave that purifies, There Sringavera's towers ascend Where Guha reigns, mine ancient friend. I see, I see thy glittering spires, Ayodhya, city of my sires. Bow down, bow down thy head, my sweet, Our home, our long-lost home to greet."

As Rama, rendering blithe and gay His loving friends, pursued his way, He saw on either hand a press Of mingled people numberless. The royal street he traversed, where Incense of aloe filled the air, Where rose high palaces, that vied With paly clouds, on either side; With flowers of myriad colours graced. And food for every varied taste, Bright as the glowing path o'erhead Which feet of Gods celestial tread, Loud benedictions, sweet to hear, From countless voices soothed his ear. While he to each gave due salute His place and dignity to suit: "Be thou," the joyful people cried, "Be thou our guardian, lord and guide. Throned and anointed king to-day, Thy feet set forth upon the way Wherein, each honoured as a God, Thy fathers and forefathers trod. Thy sire and his have graced the throne, And loving care to us have shown: Thus blest shall we and ours remain, Yea still more blest in Rama's reign. No more of dainty fare we need, And but one cherished object heed, That we may see our prince today Invested with imperial sway."

As Lakshman still his vigil held By unaffected love impelled, Guha, whose heart the sight distressed, With words like these the prince addressed: "Beloved youth, this pleasant bed Was brought for thee, for thee is spread; On this, my Prince, thine eyelids close, And heal fatigue with sweet repose. My men are all to labour trained, But hardship thou hast ne'er sustained. All we this night our watch will keep And guard Kakutstha's son asleep. In all the world there breathes not one More dear to me than Raghu's son. The words I speak, heroic youth, Are true: I swear it by my truth. Through his dear grace supreme renown Will, so I trust, my wishes crown. So shall my life rich store obtain Of merit, blest with joy and gain. While Raghu's son and Sita lie Entranced in happy slumber, I Will, with my trusty bow in hand, Guard my dear friend with all my band. To me, who oft these forests range, Is naught therein or new or strange. We could with equal might oppose A four-fold army led by foes."

He heard the words Vasishtha spoke, And slumbering resolution woke. Then skilled in all the laws declare, He bade his friends the rites prepare. They raised the body from the oil, And placed it, dripping, on the soil; Then laid it on a bed, whereon Wrought gold and precious jewels shone. There, pallor o'er his features spread, The monarch, as in sleep, lay dead. Then Bharat sought his father's side, And lifted up his voice and cried: "O King, and has thy heart designed To part and leave thy son behind? Make Rama flee, who loves the right, And Lakshman of the arm of might? Whither, great Monarch, wilt thou go And leave this people in their woe, Mourning their hero, wild with grief, Of Rama reft, their lion chief? Ah, who will guard the people well Who in Ayodhya's city dwell, When thou, my sire, hast sought the sky, And Rama has been forced to fly? In widowed woe, bereft of thee, The land no more is fair to see: The city, to my aching sight, Is gloomy as a moonless night."

"No words have I to answer now: My deity, O Queen, art thou. But 'tis no marvel, dame, to find Such lack of sense in womankind. Throughout this world, O Maithil dame, Weak women's hearts are still the same. Inconstant, urged by envious spite, They sever friends and hate the right. I cannot brook, Videhan Queen, Thy words intolerably keen. Mine ears thy fierce reproaches pain As boiling water seethes the brain. And now to bear me witness all The dwellers in the wood I call, That, when with words of truth I plead, This harsh reply is all my meed. Ah, woe is thee! Ah, grief, that still Eager to do my brother's will, Mourning thy woman's nature, I Must see thee doubt my truth and die. I fly to Rama's side, and Oh, May bliss attend thee while I go! May all attendant wood-gods screen Thy head from harm, O large-eyed Queen! And though dire omens meet my sight And fill my soul with wild affright, May I return in peace and see The son of Raghu safe with thee!"

He ceased: his finger bathed in dew Across Sugriva's eyes he drew; From dulling mist his vision freed, And spoke these words to suit the need: "No time is this for fear: away With fainting heart and weak delay. Now, e'en the tear which sorrow wrings From loving eyes destruction brings. Up, on to battle at the head Of those brave troops which Rama led. Or guardian by his side remain Till sense and strength the prince regain. Soon shall the trance-bound pair revive, And from our hearts all sorrow drive. Though prostrate on the earth he lie, Deem not that Rama's death is nigh; Deem not that Lakshmi will forget Or leave her darling champion yet. Rest here and be thy heart consoled; Ponder my words, be firm and bold. I, foremost in the battlefield, Will rally all who faint or yield. Their staring eyes betray their fear; They whisper each in other's ear. They, when they hear my cheering cry And see the friend of Rama nigh, Will cast their gloom and fears away Like faded wreaths of yesterday."

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

Thus having said to Lakshman, he Addressed in turn Sumantra: "Be Most diligent to-night, my friend, And with due care thy horses tend." The sun had set: Sumantra tied His noble horses side by side, Gave store of grass with liberal hand, And rested near them on the strand. Each paid the holy evening rite, And when around them fell the night, The charioteer, with Lakshman's aid, A lowly bed for Rama laid. To Lakshman Rama bade adieu, And then by Sita's side he threw His limbs upon the leafy bed Their care upon the bank had spread. When Lakshman saw the couple slept, Still on the strand his watch he kept, Still with Sumantra there conversed, And Rama's varied gifts rehearsed. All night he watched, nor sought repose, Till on the earth the sun arose: With him Sumantra stayed awake, And still of Rama's virtues spake. Thus, near the river's grassy shore Which herds unnumbered wandered o'er, Repose, untroubled, Rama found, And all the people lay around. The glorious hero left his bed, Looked on the sleeping crowd, and said To Lakshman, whom each lucky line Marked out for bliss with surest sign:

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

The minstrel daughters of the skies Looked on her woe with pitying eyes, And sun-bright children of the Gods(835) Consoled the queen with smiles and nods. She saw, and with her heart at ease, Addressed the fiend in words like these; "Hast thou no friend to love thee, none In all this isle to bid thee shun The ruin which thy crime will bring On thee and thine, O impious King? Who in all worlds save thee could woo Me, Rama's consort pure and true, As though he tempted with his love Queen Sachi(836) on her throne above? How canst thou hope, vile wretch, to fly The vengeance that e'en now is nigh, When thou hast dared, untouched by shame, To press thy suit on Rama's dame? Where woods are thick and grass is high A lion and a hare may lie; My Rama is the lion, thou Art the poor hare beneath the bough. Thou railest at the lord of men, But wilt not stand within his ken. What! is that eye unstricken yet Whose impious glance on me was set? Still moves that tongue that would not spare The wife of Dasaratha's heir?"

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

"By thy dear grace in sorest need From deadly bonds we both are freed. To these glad eyes as welcome now As Aja(960) or my sire art thou. Who art thou, mighty being? say, Thus glorious in thy bright array." He ceased: the king of birds replied, While flashed his eye with joy and pride: "In me, O Raghu's son, behold One who has loved thee from of old: Garud, the lord of all that fly, Thy guardian and thy friend am I. Not all the Gods in heaven could loose These numbing bonds, this serpent noose, Wherewith fierce Ravan's son, renowned For magic arts, your limbs had bound. Those arrows fixed in every limb Were mighty snakes, transformed by him. Blood thirsty race, they live beneath The earth, and slay with venomed teeth. On, smite the lord of Lanka's isle, But guard you from the giants' guile Who each dishonest art employ And by deceit brave foes destroy. So shall the tyrant Ravan bleed, And Sita from his power be freed." Thus Garud spake: then, swift as thought, The region of the sky he sought, Where in the distance like a blaze Of fire he vanished from the gaze.

Thus by the gathered Gods addressed He pondered in his secret breast, And said: "One only way I find To slay this fiend of evil mind. He prayed me once his life to guard From demon, God, and heavenly bard, And spirits of the earth and air, And I consenting heard his prayer. But the proud giant in his scorn Recked not of man of woman born. None else may take his life away, But only man the fiend may slay." The Gods, with Indra at their head, Rejoiced to hear the words he said. Then crowned with glory like a flame, Lord Vishnu to the council came; His hands shell, mace, and discus bore, And saffron were the robes he wore. Riding his eagle through the crowd, As the sun rides upon a cloud, With bracelets of fine gold, he came Loud welcomed by the Gods' acclaim. His praise they sang with one consent, And cried, in lowly reverence bent: "O Lord whose hand fierce Madhu(106) slew, Be thou our refuge, firm and true; Friend of the suffering worlds art thou, We pray thee help thy suppliants now." Then Vishnu spake: "Ye Gods, declare, What may I do to grant your prayer?"

Fair as Kailasa white with snow He saw a palace flash and glow, A crystal pavement gem-inlaid, And coral steps and colonnade, And glittering towers that kissed the skies, Whose dazzling splendour charmed his eyes. There pallid, with neglected dress, Watched close by fiend and giantess, Her sweet face thin with constant flow Of tears, with fasting and with woe; Pale as the young moon's crescent when The first faint light returns to men: Dim as the flame when clouds of smoke The latent glory hide and choke; Like Rohini the queen of stars Oppressed by the red planet Mars; From her dear friends and husband torn, Amid the cruel fiends, forlorn, Who fierce-eyed watch around her kept, A tender woman sat and wept. Her sobs, her sighs, her mournful mien, Her glorious eyes, proclaimed the queen. "This, this is she," the Vanar cried, "Fair as the moon and lotus-eyed, I saw the giant Ravan bear A captive through the fields of air. Such was the beauty of the dame; Her form, her lips, her eyes the same. This peerless queen whom I behold Is Rama's wife with limbs of gold. Best of the sons of men is he, And worthy of her lord is she."

"They come, they come. A rushing tide, Ten leagues they spread from side to side, And on to storm thy city press, Fierce rovers of the wilderness. Rich in each princely power and grace, The pride of Dasaratha's race, Rama and Lakshman lead their bands, And halt them on the ocean sands. O Monarch, rise, this peril meet; Risk not the danger of defeat. First let each wiser art be tried; Bribe them, or win them, or divide." Such was the counsel of the spy: And Ravan called to Suka: "Fly, Sugriva lord of Vanars seek, And thus my kingly message speak: "Great power and might and fame are thine, Brave scion of a royal line, King Riksharajas' son, in thee A brother and a friend I see. How wronged by me canst thou complain? What profit here pretend to gain? If from the wood the wife I stole Of Rama of the prudent soul, What cause hast thou to mourn the theft? Thou art not injured or bereft. Return, O King, thy steps retrace And seek thy mountain dwelling-place. No, never may thy hosts within My Lanka's walls a footing win. A mighty town whose strength defies The gathered armies of the skies."

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

His giant foe no answer made, But on his string an arrow laid. He raised his arm, the cord he drew, At Lakshman's breast the arrow flew. Sumitra's son, his foemen's dread, Shot a fleet shaft with crescent head, Which cleft that arrow pointed well, And harmless to the earth it fell. A shower of shafts from Lakshman's bow Fell fast and furious on the foe Who quailed not as the missiles smote With idle force his iron coat. Then came the friendly Wind-God near, And whispered thus in Lakshman's ear: "Such shafts as these in vain assail Thy foe's impenetrable mail. A more tremendous missile try, Or never may the giant die. Employ the mighty spell, and aim The weapon known by Brahma's name." He ceased; Sumitra's son obeyed: On his great bow the shaft was laid, And with a roar like thunder, true As Indra's flashing bolt, it flew. The giant poured his shafts like rain To check its course, but all in vain. With spear and mace and sword he tried To turn the fiery dart aside. Winged with a force which naught could check, It smote the monster in the neck, And, sundered from his shoulders, rolled To earth his head and helm of gold.

While yet the dust was seen afar That marked the course of Rama's car, The glory of Ikshvaku's race Turned not away his eager face. While yet his duteous son he saw He could not once his gaze withdraw, But rooted to the spot remained With eyes that after Rama strained. But when that dust no more he viewed, Fainting he fell by grief subdued. To his right hand Kausalya went, And ready aid the lady lent, While Bharat's loving mother tried To raise him on the other side. The king, within whose ordered soul Justice and virtue held control, To Queen Kaikeyi turned and said, With every sense disquieted: "Touch me not, thou whose soul can plot All sin. Kaikeyi, touch me not. No loving wife, no friend to me, I ne'er again would look on thee; Ne'er from this day have aught to do With thee and all thy retinue; Thee whom no virtuous thoughts restrain, Whose selfish heart seeks only gain. The hand I laid in mine, O dame, The steps we took around the flame,(317) And all that links thy life to mine Here and hereafter I resign. If Bharat too, thy darling son, Joy in the rule thy art has won, Ne'er may the funeral offerings paid By his false hand approach my shade."

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

The glorious chief his speech renewed To faithful Lakshman as he sued, And on the eyes of Rama gazed Longing to lead, with hands upraised: "Thou art a hero just and dear, Whose steps to virtue's path adhere, Loved as my life till life shall end, My faithful brother and my friend. If to the woods thou take thy way With Sita and with me to-day, Who for Kausalya will provide, And guard the good Sumitra's side? The lord of earth, of mighty power, Who sends good things in plenteous shower, As Indra pours the grateful rain, A captive lies in passion's chain. The power imperial for her son Has Asvapati's daughter(306) won, And she, proud queen, will little heed Her miserable rivals' need. So Bharat, ruler of the land, By Queen Kaikeyi's side will stand, Nor of those two will ever think, While grieving in despair they sink. Now, Lakshman, as thy love decrees, Or else the monarch's heart to please, Follow this counsel and protect My honoured mother from neglect. So thou, while not to me alone Thy great affection will be shown, To highest duty wilt adhere By serving those thou shouldst revere. Now, son of Raghu, for my sake Obey this one request I make, Or, of her darling son bereft, Kausalya has no comfort left."

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

The aged matron, when she saw Fair Sita true to duty's law, Addressed her thus: "High fate is thine Whose thoughts to virtue still incline. Thou, lady of the noble mind, Hast kin and state and wealth resigned To follow Rama forced to tread Where solitary woods are spread. Those women gain high spheres above Who still unchanged their husbands love, Whether they dwell in town or wood, Whether their hearts be ill or good. Though wicked, poor, or led away In love's forbidden paths to stray, The noble matron still will deem Her lord a deity supreme. Regarding kin and friendship, I Can see no better, holier tie, And every penance-rite is dim Beside the joy of serving him. But dark is this to her whose mind Promptings of idle fancy blind, Who led by evil thoughts away Makes him who should command obey. Such women, O dear Maithil dame, Their virtue lose and honest fame, Enslaved by sin and folly, led In these unholy paths to tread. But they who good and true like thee The present and the future see, Like men by holy deeds will rise To mansions in the blissful skies. So keep thee pure from taint of sin, Still to thy lord be true, And fame and merit shalt thou win, To thy devotion due."

Danu had lent attentive ear The words which Rama spoke to hear, And thus, a speaker skilled and tried, To that great orator replied: "No heavenly lore my soul endows, Naught know I of thy Maithil spouse. Yet will I, when my shape I wear, Him who will tell thee all declare. Then, Rama, will my lips disclose His name who well that giant knows. But till the flames my corse devour This hidden knowledge mocks my power. For through that curse's withering taint My knowledge now is small and faint. Unknown the giant's very name Who bore away the Maithil dame. Cursed for my evil deeds I wore A shape which all the worlds abhor. Now ere with wearied steeds the sun Through western skies his course have run, Deep in a pit my body lay And burn it in the wonted way. When in the grave my corse is placed, With fire and funeral honours graced, Then I, great chief, his name will tell Who knows the giant robber well. With him, who guides his life aright, In league of trusting love unite, And he, O valiant prince, will be A faithful friend and aid to thee. For, Rama, to his searching eyes The triple world uncovered lies. For some dark cause of old, I ween, Through all the spheres his ways have been."

King Guha saw the host spread o'er The wide expanse of Ganga's shore, With waving flag and pennon graced, And to his followers spoke in haste: "A mighty army meets my eyes, That rivals Ocean's self in size: Where'er I look my very mind No limit to the host can find. Sure Bharat with some evil thought His army to our land has brought. See, huge of form, his flag he rears, That like an Ebony-tree appears. He comes with bonds to take and chain, Or triumph o'er our people slain: And after, Rama will he slay,-- Him whom his father drove away: The power complete he longs to gain, And--task too hard--usurp the reign. So Bharat comes with wicked will His brother Rama's blood to spill. But Rama's slave and friend am I; He is my lord and dear ally. Keep here your watch in arms arrayed Near Ganga's flood to lend him aid, And let my gathered servants stand And line with troops the river strand. Here let the river keepers meet, Who flesh and roots and berries eat; A hundred fishers man each boat Of the five hundred here afloat, And let the youthful and the strong Assemble in defensive throng. But yet, if, free from guilty thought 'Gainst Rama, he this land have sought, The prince's happy host to-day Across the flood shall make its way."

Thus questioned by the prince, at length Kaikeyi's son regained his strength, And hand to hand in reverence laid, To Rama thus his answer made: "The great-armed monarch, O my lord, Has dared to do a thing abhorred, Left us, and grieving for his son, A home among the Gods has won. My mother Queen Kaikeyi gave The order to the king her slave, And at the bidding of the dame He wrought the sin which mars his fame. Athirst for sway, her hopes are crossed, She mourns her son, her husband lost, And through her impious crime will go For punishment to hell below. Now O my lord, forgive me all; Be gracious to thy lowly thrall: Anointed king, accept to-day Like Indra's self, the royal sway. Be gracious, Prince, to lord and peer, And widowed queens who seek thee here Accept the kingdom thine by right, And so thy faithful friends delight. Let the broad land no longer be All widowed and forlorn of thee: Let the full moon of autumn reign Triumphant o'er the night again. These lords and I before thee bend: O Rama, to our prayer attend. O do not thou this grace deny: Thy brother, pupil, slave am I. Look on this venerable ring, Advisers of our sire the king, From age to age so honoured: thou Shouldst grant their supplication now."

So thou whom fate and folly lead To ruin for this guilty deed, Shalt die by Rama's arm ere long A dreadful death for hideous wrong. Ah, too successful in their ends Are Queen Kaikeyi and her friends, When virtuous Rama, dear to fame, Is mourning for his ravished dame. Ah me, ah me! a long farewell To lawn and glade and forest dell In Janasthan's wild region, where The Cassia trees are bright and fair With all your tongues to Rama say That Ravan bears his wife away. Farewell, a long farewell to thee, O pleasant stream Godavari, Whose rippling waves are ever stirred By many a glad wild water-bird! All ye to Rama's ear relate The giant's deed and Sita's fate. O all ye Gods who love this ground Where trees of every leaf abound, Tell Rama I am stolen hence, I pray you all with reverence. On all the living things beside That these dark boughs and coverts hide, Ye flocks of birds, ye troops of deer, I call on you my prayer to hear. All ye to Rama's ear proclaim That Ravan tears away his dame With forceful arms,--his darling wife, Dearer to Rama than his life. O, if he knew I dwelt in hell, My mighty lord, I know full well, Would bring me, conqueror, back to-day, Though Yama's self reclaimed his prey."

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

"Thy fear and doubt," he cried, "dispelled, Hear, lady, what mine eyes beheld. Hear the imperial signs that grace The glory of Ikshvaku's race. With moon-bright face and lotus eyes, Most beautiful and good and wise, With sun-like glory round his head, Long-suffering as the earth we tread, He from all foes his realm defends. Yea, o'er the world his care extends. He follows right in all his ways, And ne'er from royal duty strays. He knows the lore that strengthens kings; His heart to truth and honour clings. Each grace and gift of form and mind Adorns that prince of human kind; And virtues like his own endue His brother ever firm and true. O'er all the land they roamed distraught, And thee with vain endeavour sought, Until at length their wandering feet Trod wearily our wild retreat. Our banished king Sugriva spied The princes from the mountain side. By his command I sought the pair And led them to our monarch there. Thus Rama and Sugriva met, And joined the bonds that knit them yet, When each besought the other's aid, And friendship and alliance made. An arrow launched from Rama's bow Laid Bali dead, Sugriva's foe. Then by commandment of our lord The Vanar hosts each land explored. We reached the coast: I crossed the sea And found my way at length to thee."(858)

But Ravan's breast with fury swelled, And thus he spake by Death impelled, While, under brows in anger bent, Fierce glances from his eyes were sent: "The bitter words which thou, misled By friendly thought, hast fondly said, Which praise the foe and counsel fear, Unheeded fall upon mine ear. How canst thou deem a mighty foe This Rama who, in stress of woe, Seeks, banished as his sire decreed, Assistance from the Vanar breed? Am I so feeble in thine eyes, Though feared by dwellers of the skies,-- Whose might in many a battle shown The glorious race of giants own? Shall I for fear of him restore The lady whom I hither bore, Exceeding fair like Beauty's Queen(944) Without her well-loved lotus seen? Around the chief let Lakshman stand, Sugriva, and each Vanar band, Soon, Malyavan, thine eyes will see This boasted Rama slain by me. I in the brunt of war defy The mightiest warriors of the sky; And if I stoop to combat men, Shall I be weak and tremble then? This mangled trunk the foe may rend, But Ravan ne'er can yield or bend, And be it vice or virtue, I This nature never will belie. What marvel if he bridged the sea? Why should this deed disquiet thee? This, only this, I surely know, Back with his life he shall not go."

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

But Rama, when he first looked down And saw afar Ayodhya's town, Had called Hanuman to his side, The chief on whom his heart relied, And said: "Brave Vanar, good at need, Haste onward, to Ayodhya speed, And learn, I pray, if all be well With those who in the palace dwell. But as thou speedest on thy way Awhile at Sringavera stay. Tell Guha the Nishadas' lord, That victor, with my queen restored, In health and strength with many a friend Homeward again my steps I bend. Thence by the road that he will show On to Ayodhya swiftly go. There with my love my brother greet, And all our wondrous tale repeat. Say that victorious in the strife I come with Lakshman and my wife, Then mark with keenest eye each trace Of joy or grief on Bharat's face. Be all his gestures closely viewed, Each change of look and attitude. Where breathes the man who will not cling To all that glorifies a king? Where beats the heart that can resign An ancient kingdom, nor repine To lose a land renowned for breeds Of elephants and warrior steeds? If, won by custom day by day, My brother Bharat thirsts for sway, Still let him rule the nations, still The throne of old Ikshvaku fill. Go, mark him well: his feelings learn, And, ere we yet be near return."