Ramayana on Joy

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)

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)

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

They tossed the flying ball about With dance and song and merry shout, And moved, their scented tresses bound With wreaths, in mazy motion round. Some girls as if by love possessed, Sank to the earth in feigned unrest, Up starting quickly to pursue Their intermitted game anew. It was a lovely sight to see Those fair ones, as they played, While fragrant robes were floating free, And bracelets clashing in their glee A pleasant tinkling made. The anklet's chime, the Koil's(82) cry With music filled the place As 'twere some city in the sky Which heavenly minstrels grace. With each voluptuous art they strove To win the tenant of the grove, And with their graceful forms inspire His modest soul with soft desire. With arch of brow, with beck and smile, With every passion-waking wile Of glance and lotus hand, With all enticements that excite The longing for unknown delight Which boys in vain withstand. Forth came the hermit's son to view The wondrous sight to him so new, And gazed in rapt surprise, For from his natal hour till then On woman or the sons of men He ne'er had cast his eyes. He saw them with their waists so slim, With fairest shape and faultless limb, In variegated robes arrayed, And sweetly singing as they played. Near and more near the hermit drew, And watched them at their game, And stronger still the impulse grew To question whence they came. They marked the young ascetic gaze With curious eye and wild amaze, And sweet the long-eyed damsels sang, And shrill their merry laughter rang. Then came they nearer to his side, And languishing with passion cried: "Whose son, O youth, and who art thou, Come suddenly to join us now? And why dost thou all lonely dwell In the wild wood? We pray thee, tell, We wish to know thee, gentle youth; Come, tell us, if thou wilt, the truth."

Ikshvaku's son, the good and brave, This last farewell to Guha gave, And then, with Lakshman and his bride, Determined, on his way he hied. Soon as he viewed, upon the shore, The bark prepared to waft them o'er Impetuous Ganga's rolling tide, To Lakshman thus the chieftain cried: "Brother, embark; thy hand extend, Thy gentle aid to Sita lend: With care her trembling footsteps guide, And place the lady by thy side." When Lakshman heard, prepared to aid, His brother's words he swift obeyed. Within the bark he placed the dame, Then to her side the hero came. Next Lakshman's elder brother, lord Of brightest glory, when on board, Breathing a prayer for blessings, meet For priest or warrior to repeat, Then he and car-borne Lakshman bent, Well-pleased, their heads, most reverent, Their hands, with Sita, having dipped, As Scripture bids, and water sipped, Farewell to wise Sumantra said, And Guha, with the train he led. So Rama took, on board, his stand, And urged the vessel from the land. Then swift by vigorous arms impelled Her onward course the vessel held, And guided by the helmsman through The dashing waves of Ganga flew. Half way across the flood they came, When Sita, free from spot and blame, Her reverent hands together pressed, The Goddess of the stream addressed: "May the great chieftain here who springs From Dasaratha, best of kings, Protected by thy care, fulfil His prudent father's royal will. When in the forest he has spent His fourteen years of banishment, With his dear brother and with me His home again my lord shall see. Returning on that blissful day, I will to thee mine offerings pay, Dear Queen, whose waters gently flow, Who canst all blessed gifts bestow. For, three-pathed Queen, though wandering here, Thy waves descend from Brahma's sphere, Spouse of the God o'er floods supreme, Though rolling here thy glorious stream.

Then Bharat's face was eastward bent As from the royal town he went. He reached Sudama's farther side, And glorious, gazed upon the tide; Passed Hladini, and saw her toss Her westering billows hard to cross. Then old Ikshvaku's famous son O'er Satadru(348) his passage won, Near Ailadhana on the strand, And came to Aparparyat's land. O'er Sila's flood he hurried fast, Akurvati's fair stream he passed, Crossed o'er Agneya's rapid rill, And Salyakartan onward still. Silavaha's swift stream he eyed, True to his vows and purified, Then crossed the lofty hills, and stood In Chaitraratha's mighty wood. He reached the confluence where meet Sarasvati(349) and Ganga fleet, And through Bharunda forest, spread Northward of Viramatsya, sped. He sought Kalinda's child, who fills The soul with joy, begirt by hills, Reached Yamuna, and passing o'er, Rested his army on the shore: He gave his horses food and rest, Bathed reeking limb and drooping crest. They drank their fill and bathed them there, And water for their journey bare. Thence through a mighty wood he sped All wild and uninhabited, As in fair chariot through the skies, Most fair in shape a Storm-God flies. At Ansudhana Ganga, hard To cross, his onward journey barred, So turning quickly thence he came To Pragvat's city dear to fame. There having gained the farther side To Kutikoshtika he hied: The stream he crossed, and onward then To Dharmavardhan brought his men. Thence, leaving Toran on the north, To Jambuprastha journeyed forth. Then onward to a pleasant grove By fair Varutha's town he drove, And when a while he there had stayed, Went eastward from the friendly shade. Eastward of Ujjihana where The Priyak trees are tall and fair, He passed, and rested there each steed Exhausted with the journey's speed. There orders to his men addressed, With quickened pace he onward pressed, A while at Sarvatirtha spent, Then o'er Uttanika he went.

"Bring all thy host," the hermit cried, And Bharat, to his joy, complied. Then to the chapel went the sire, Where ever burnt the sacred fire, And first, in order due, with sips Of water purified his lips: To Visvakarma, then he prayed, His hospitable feast to aid: "Let Visvakarma hear my call, The God who forms and fashions all: A mighty banquet I provide, Be all my wants this day supplied. Lord Indra at their head, the three(365) Who guard the worlds I call to me: A mighty host this day I feed, Be now supplied my every need. Let all the streams that eastward go, And those whose waters westering flow, Both on the earth and in the sky, Flow hither and my wants supply. Be some with ardent liquor filled, And some with wine from flowers distilled, While some their fresh cool streams retain Sweet as the juice of sugar-cane. I call the Gods, I call the band Of minstrels that around them stand: I call the Haha and Huhu, I call the sweet Visvavasu, I call the heavenly wives of these With all the bright Apsarases, Alambusha of beauty rare, The charmer of the tangled hair, Ghritachi and Visvachi fair, Hema and Bhima sweet to view, And lovely Nagadanta too, And all the sweetest nymphs who stand By Indra or by Brahma's hand-- I summon these with all their train And Tumburu to lead the strain. Here let Kuvera's garden rise Which far in Northern Kuru(366) lies: For leaves let cloth and gems entwine, And let its fruit be nymphs divine. Let Soma(367) give the noblest food To feed the mighty multitude, Of every kind, for tooth and lip, To chew, to lick, to suck, and sip. Let wreaths, where fairest flowers abound, Spring from the trees that bloom around. Each sort of wine to woo the taste, And meats of every kind be placed."

Then at the bidding of the seer Kaikeyi's strong-armed son drew near, And passed within that fair abode Which with the noblest jewels glowed. Then, as Vasishtha led the way, The councillors, in due array, Followed delighted and amazed And on the glorious structure gazed. Then Bharat, Raghu's son, drew near The kingly throne, with prince and peer, Whereby the chouri in the shade Of the white canopy was laid. Before the throne he humbly bent And honoured Rama, reverent, Then in his hand the chouri bore, And sat where sits a councillor. His ministers and household priest Sat by degrees from chief to least, Then sat the captain of the host And all the men he honoured most. Then when the saint his order gave, Each river with enchanted wave Rolled milk and curds divinely sweet Before the princely Bharat's feet; And dwellings fair on either side, With gay white plaster beautified, Their heavenly roofs were seen to lift, The Brahman Bharadvaja's gift. Then straight by Lord Kuvera sent, Gay with celestial ornament Of bright attire and jewels' shine, Came twenty thousand nymphs divine: The man on whom those beauties glanced That moment felt his soul entranced. With them from Nandan's blissful shades Came twenty thousand heavenly maids. Tumburu, Narad, Gopa came, And Sutanu, like radiant flame, The kings of the Gandharva throng, And ravished Bharat with their song. Then spoke the saint, and swift obeyed Alambusha, the fairest maid, And Misrakesi bright to view, Ramana, Pundrika too, And danced to him with graceful ease The dances of Apsarases. All chaplets that by Gods are worn, Or Chaitraratha's graves adorn, Bloomed by the saint's command arrayed On branches in Prayaga's shade. When at the saint's command the breeze Made music with the Vilva trees, To wave in rhythmic beat began The boughs of each Myrobolan, And holy fig-trees wore the look Of dancers, as their leaflets shook.

There long the son of Raghu dwelt And love for hill and wood he felt. Then his Videhan spouse to please And his own heart of woe to ease, Like some Immortal--Indra so Might Swarga's charms to Sachi show-- Drew her sweet eyes to each delight Of Chitrakuta's lovely height: "Though reft of power and kingly sway, Though friends and home are far away, I cannot mourn my altered lot, Enamoured of this charming spot. Look, darling, on this noble hill Which sweet birds with their music fill, Bright with a thousand metal dyes His lofty summits cleave the skies. See, there a silvery sheen is spread, And there like blood the rocks are red. There shows a streak of emerald green, And pink and yellow glow between. There where the higher peaks ascend, Crystal and flowers and topaz blend, And others flash their light afar Like mercury or some fair star: With such a store of metals dyed The king of hills is glorified. There through the wild birds' populous home The harmless bear and tiger roam: Hyaenas range the woody slopes With herds of deer and antelopes. See, love, the trees that clothe his side All lovely in their summer pride, In richest wealth of leaves arrayed, With flower and fruit and light and shade, Look where the young Rose-apple glows; What loaded boughs the Mango shows; See, waving in the western wind The light leaves of the Tamarind, And mark that giant Peepul through The feathery clump of tall bamboo.(369) Look, on the level lands above, Delighting in successful love In sweet enjoyment many a pair Of heavenly minstrels revels there, While overhanging boughs support Their swords and mantles as they sport: Then see that pleasant shelter where Play the bright Daughters of the Air.(370) The mountain seems with bright cascade And sweet rill bursting from the shade, Like some majestic elephant o'er Whose burning head the torrents pour.

Then blazed his ire: he longed to smite To earth the rovers of the night. The wrath that o'er his spirit came Clothed him with splendour as of flame, While showers of mortal darts he poured Fierce on the giants and their lord. Dushan, the foeman's dusky dread, By frenzied rage inspirited, On Raghu's son his missiles cast Like Indra's bolts which rend and blast. But Rama with a trenchant dart Cleft Dushan's ponderous bow apart. And then the gold-decked steeds who drew The chariot, with four shafts he slew. One crescent dart he aimed which shred Clean from his neck the driver's head; Three more with deadly skill addressed Stood quivering in the giant's breast. Hurled from his car, steeds, driver slain, The bow he trusted cleft in twain, He seized his mace, strong, heavy, dread, High as a mountain's towering head. With plates of gold adorned and bound, Embattled Gods it crushed and ground. Its iron spikes yet bore the stains Of mangled foemen's blood and brains. Its heavy mass of jagged steel Was like a thunderbolt to feel. It shattered, as on foes it fell, The city where the senses dwell.(469) Fierce Dushan seized that ponderous mace Like monstrous form of serpent race, And all his savage soul aglow With fury, rushed upon the foe. But Raghu's son took steady aim, And as the rushing giant came, Shore with two shafts the arms whereon The demon's glittering bracelets shone. His arm at each huge shoulder lopped, The mighty body reeled and dropped, And the great mace to earth was thrown Like Indra's staff when storms have blown. As some vast elephant who lies Shorn of his tusks, and bleeding dies, So, when his arms were rent away, Low on the ground the giant lay. The spirits saw the monster die, And loudly rang their joyful cry, "Honour to Rama! nobly done! Well hast thou fought, Kakutstha's son!"

Then ten necked Ravan saw the time Propitious for his purposed crime. A mendicant in guise he came And stood before the Maithil dame. His garb was red, with tufted hair And sandalled feet a shade he bare, And from the fiend's left shoulder slung A staff and water-vessel hung. Near to the lovely dame he drew, While both the chiefs were far from view, As darkness takes the evening air When neither sun nor moon is there. He bent his eye upon the dame, A princess fair, of spotless fame: So might some baleful planet be Near Moon-forsaken Rohini.(495) As the fierce tyrant nearer drew, The trees in Janasthan that grew Waved not a leaf for fear and woe, And the hushed wind forbore to blow. Godavari's waters as they fled, Saw his fierce eye-balls flashing red, And from each swiftly-gliding wave A melancholy murmur gave. Then Ravan, when his eager eye Beheld the longed-for moment nigh, In mendicant's apparel dressed Near to the Maithil lady pressed. In holy guise, a fiend abhorred, He found her mourning for her lord. Thus threatening draws Sanischar(496) nigh To Chitra(497) in the evening sky; Thus the deep well by grass concealed Yawns treacherous in the verdant field. He stood and looked upon the dame Of Rama, queen of spotless fame With her bright teeth and each fair limb Like the full moon she seemed to him, Sitting within her leafy cot, Weeping for woe that left her not. Thus, while with joy his pulses beat, He saw her in her lone retreat, Eyed like the lotus, fair to view In silken robes of amber hue. Pierced to the core by Kama's dart He murmured texts with lying art, And questioned with a soft address The lady in her loneliness. The fiend essayed with gentle speech The heart of that fair dame to reach, Pride of the worlds, like Beauty's Queen Without her darling lotus seen:

Take then the respite of a night And yield thee to each soft delight. Then, monarch of the Vanar race With loving arms thy friends embrace. Gifts on thy faithful lords bestow, Bid each and all farewell, and go. Show in the streets once more thy face, Install thy son to fill thy place. Dally a while with each dear dame; And then my strength thy pride shall tame For, should I smite thee drunk with wine Enamoured of those dames of thine, Beneath diseases bowed and bent, Or weak, unarmed, or negligent, My deed would merit hate and scorn As his who slays the child unborn." Then Bali's soul with rage was fired, Queen Tara and the dames retired; And slowly, with a laugh of pride, The king of Vanars thus replied: "Me, fiend, thou deemest drunk with wine: Unless thy fear the fight decline, Come, meet me in the fray, and test The spirit of my valiant breast." He spoke in wrath and high disdain; And, laying down his golden chain, Gift of his sire Mahendra, dared The demon, for the fray prepared; Seized by the horns the monster, vast As a huge hill, and held him fast, Then fiercely dragged him round and round, And, shouting, hurled him to the ground. Blood streaming from his ears, he rose, And wild with fury strove the foes. Then Bali, match for Indra's might, With every arm renewed the fight. He fought with fists, and feet, and knees, With fragments of the rock, and trees. At last the monster's strength, assailed By Sakra's(572) conquering offspring, failed. Him Bali raised with mighty strain And dashed upon the ground again; Where, bruised and shattered, in a tide Of rushing blood, the demon died. King Bali saw the lifeless corse, And bending, with tremendous force Raised the huge bulk from where it lay, And hurled it full a league away.

Sugriva heard: he bowed his head: Within the lovely town he sped Which Bali's royal will had swayed, Where thousand Vanar chiefs arrayed Gathered in order round their king, And led him on with welcoming. Low on the earth the lesser crowd Fell in prostration as they bowed. Sugriva looked with grateful eyes, Spake to them all and bade them rise. Then through the royal bowers he strode Wherein the monarch's wives abode. Soon from the inner chambers came The Vanar of exalted fame; And joyful friends drew near and shed King-making balm upon his head, Like Gods anointing in the skies Their sovereign of the thousand eyes.(614) Then brought they, o'er their king to hold The white umbrella decked with gold, And chouries with their waving hair In golden handles wondrous fair; And fragrant herbs and seed and spice, And sparkling gems exceeding price, And every bloom from woods and leas, And gum distilled from milky trees; And precious ointment white as milk, And spotless robes of cloth and silk, Wreaths of sweet flowers whose glories gleam In grassy grove, on lake or stream. And fragrant sandal and each scent That makes the soft breeze redolent; Grain, honey, odorous seed, and store Of oil and curd and golden ore; A noble tiger's skin, a pair Of sandals wrought with costliest care, Eight pairs of damsels drawing nigh Brought unguents stained with varied dye. Then gems and cates and robes displayed Before the twice-born priests were laid, That they would deign in order due To consecrate the king anew. The sacred grass was duly spread And sacrificial flame was fed, Which Scripture-learned priests supplied With oil which texts had sanctified. Then, with all rites ordained of old, High on the terrace bright with gold, Whereon a glorious carpet lay, And fresh-culled garlands sweet and gay, Placed on his throne, Sugriva bent His looks toward the Orient.

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?

When Gadhi's son of high renown Still saw the stony rain pour down Upon each princely warrior's head, With words of wisdom thus he said: "Enough of mercy, Rama, lest This sinful evil-working pest, Disturber of each holy rite, Repair by magic arts her might. Without delay the fiend should die, For, see, the twilight hour is nigh. And at the joints of night and day Such giant foes are hard to slay." Then Rama, skilful to direct His arrow to the sound, With shafts the mighty demon checked Who rained her stones around. She sore impeded and beset By Rama and his arrowy net, Though skilled in guile and magic lore, Rushed on the brothers with a roar. Deformed, terrific, murderous, dread, Swift as the levin on she sped, Like cloudy pile in autumn's sky, Lifting her two vast arms on high, When Rama smote her with a dart, Shaped like a crescent, to the heart. Sore wounded by the shaft that came With lightning speed and surest aim, Blood spouting from her mouth and side, She fell upon the earth and died. Soon as the Lord who rules the sky Saw the dread monster lifeless lie, He called aloud, Well done! well done! And the Gods honoured Raghu's son. Standing in heaven the Thousand-eyed, With all the Immortals, joying cried: "Lift up thine eyes, O Saint, and see The Gods and Indra nigh to thee. This deed of Rama's boundless might Has filled our bosoms with delight, Now, for our will would have it so, To Raghu's son some favour show. Invest him with the power which naught But penance gains and holy thought, Those heavenly arms on him bestow To thee entrusted long ago By great Krisasva best of kings, Son of the Lord of living things. More fit recipient none can be Than he who joys it following thee; And for our sakes the monarch's seed Has yet to do a mighty deed."

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.

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.

She ceased. So counselled to her bane Disguised beneath a show of gain, Kaikeyi in her joy and pride To Manthara again replied: "Thy sense I envy, prudent maid; With sagest lore thy lids persuade. No hump-back maid in all the earth, For wise resolve, can match thy worth. Thou art alone with constant zeal Devoted to thy lady's weal. Dear girl, without thy faithful aid I had not marked the plot he laid. Full of all guile and sin and spite Misshapen hump-backs shock the sight: But thou art fair and formed to please, Bent like a lily by the breeze. I look thee o'er with watchful eye, And in thy frame no fault can spy; The chest so deep, the waist so trim, So round the lines of breast and limb.(271) Thy cheeks with moonlike beauty shine, And the warm wealth of youth is thine. Thy legs, my girl, are long and neat, And somewhat long thy dainty feet, While stepping out before my face Thou seemest like a crane to pace. The thousand wiles are in thy breast Which Sambara the fiend possessed, And countless others all thine own, O damsel sage, to thee are known. Thy very hump becomes thee too, O thou whose face is fair to view, For there reside in endless store Plots, wizard wiles, and warrior lore. A golden chain I'll round it fling When Rama's flight makes Bharat king: Yea, polished links of finest gold, When once the wished for prize I hold With naught to fear and none to hate, Thy hump, dear maid, shall decorate. A golden frontlet wrought with care, And precious jewels shalt thou wear: Two lovely robes around thee fold, And walk a Goddess to behold, Bidding the moon himself compare His beauty with a face so fair. With scent of precious sandal sweet Down to the nails upon thy feet, First of the household thou shalt go And pay with scorn each battled foe."

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.

And now the night had past away, And brightly dawned another day; The minstrels, trained to play and sing, Flocked to the chamber of the king: Bards, who their gayest raiment wore, And heralds famed for ancient lore: And singers, with their songs of praise, Made music in their several ways. There as they poured their blessings choice And hailed their king with hand and voice, Their praises with a swelling roar Echoed through court and corridor. Then as the bards his glory sang, From beaten palms loud answer rang, As glad applauders clapped their hands, And told his deeds in distant lands. The swelling concert woke a throng Of sleeping birds to life and song: Some in the branches of the trees, Some caged in halls and galleries. Nor was the soft string music mute; The gentle whisper of the lute, And blessings sung by singers skilled The palace of the monarch filled. Eunuchs and dames of life unstained, Each in the arts of waiting trained, Drew near attentive as before, And crowded to the chamber door: These skilful when and how to shed The lustral stream o'er limb and head, Others with golden ewers stood Of water stained with sandal wood. And many a maid, pure, young, and fair, Her load of early offerings bare, Cups of the flood which all revere, And sacred things, and toilet gear. Each several thing was duly brought As rule of old observance taught, And lucky signs on each impressed Stamped it the fairest and the best. There anxious, in their long array, All waited till the shine of day: But when the king nor rose nor spoke, Doubt and alarm within them woke. Forthwith the dames, by duty led, Attendants on the monarch's bed, Within the royal chamber pressed To wake their master from his rest. Skilled in the lore of dreaming, they First touched the bed on which he lay. But none replied; no sound was heard, Nor hand, nor head, nor body stirred.

The prince of men a league away Saw where the hermit's dwelling lay, Then with his lords his path pursued, And left his warrior multitude. On foot, as duty taught his mind, He left his warlike gear behind; Two robes of linen cloth he wore, And bade Vasishtha walk before. Then Bharat from his lords withdrew When Bharadvaja came in view, And toward the holy hermit went Behind Vasishtha, reverent. When Bharadvaja, saint austere, Saw good Vasishtha drawing near, He cried, upspringing from his seat, "The grace-gift bring, my friend to greet." When Saint Vasishtha near him drew, And Bharat paid the reverence due, The glorious hermit was aware That Dasaratha's son was there. The grace-gift, water for their feet He gave, and offered fruit to eat; Then, duty-skilled, with friendly speech In seemly order questioned each: "How fares it in Ayodhya now With treasury and army? how With kith and kin and friends most dear, With councillor, and prince, and peer?" But, for he knew the king was dead, Of Dasaratha naught he said. Vasishtha and the prince in turn Would of the hermit's welfare learn: Of holy fires they fain would hear, Of pupils, trees, and birds, and deer. The glorious saint his answer made That all was well in holy shade: Then love of Rama moved his breast, And thus he questioned of his guest: "Why art thou here, O Prince, whose band With kingly sway protects the land? Declare the cause, explain the whole, For yet some doubt disturbs my soul. He whom Kausalya bare, whose might The foemen slays, his line's delight, He who with wife and brother sent Afar now roam in banishment, Famed prince, to whom his father spake This order for a woman's sake: "Away! and in the forest spend Thy life till fourteen years shall end"-- Has thou the wish to harm him, bent On sin against the innocent? Wouldst thou thine elder's realm enjoy Without a thorn that can annoy?"

Thus Rama spoke, and took the road To Sarabhanga's pure abode. But near that saint whose lustre vied With Gods, by penance purified, With startled eyes the prince beheld A wondrous sight unparalleled. In splendour like the fire and sun He saw a great and glorious one. Upon a noble car he rode, And many a God behind him glowed: And earth beneath his feet unpressed(411) The monarch of the skies confessed. Ablaze with gems, no dust might dim The bright attire that covered him. Arrayed like him, on every side High saints their master glorified. Near, borne in air, appeared in view His car which tawny coursers drew, Like silver cloud, the moon, or sun Ere yet the day is well begun. Wreathed with gay garlands, o'er his head A pure white canopy was spread, And lovely nymphs stood nigh to hold Fair chouris with their sticks of gold, Which, waving in each gentle hand, The forehead of their monarch fanned. God, saint, and bard, a radiant ring, Sang glory to their heavenly King: Forth into joyful lauds they burst As Indra with the sage conversed. Then Rama, when his wondering eyes Beheld the monarch of the skies, To Lakshman quickly called, and showed The car wherein Lord Indra rode: "See, brother, see that air-borne car, Whose wondrous glory shines afar: Wherefrom so bright a lustre streams That like a falling sun it seems: These are the steeds whose fame we know, Of heavenly race through heaven they go: These are the steeds who bear the yoke Of Sakra,(412) Him whom all invoke. Behold these youths, a glorious band, Toward every wind a hundred stand: A sword in each right hand is borne, And rings of gold their arms adorn. What might in every broad deep chest And club-like arm is manifest! Clothed in attire of crimson hue They show like tigers fierce to view. Great chains of gold each warder deck, Gleaming like fire beneath his neck.

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:

No wandering elephants invade The stillness of that holy shade, But checked by saint Matanga's power They spare each consecrated bower. Through many an age those trees have stood World-famous as Matanga's wood Still, Raghu's son, pursue thy way: Through shades where birds are vocal stray, Fair as the blessed wood where rove Immortal Gods, or Nandan's grove. Near Pampa eastward, full in sight, Stands Rishyamuka's wood-crowned height. 'Tis hard to climb that towering steep Where serpents unmolested sleep. The free and bounteous, formed of old By Brahma of superior mould, Who sink when day is done to rest Reclining on that mountain crest,-- What wealth or joy in dreams they view, Awaking find the vision true. But if a villain stained with crime That holy hill presume to climb, The giants in their fury sweep From the hill top the wretch asleep. There loud and long is heard the roar Of elephants on Pampa's shore, Who near Matanga's dwelling stray And in those waters bathe and play. A while they revel by the flood, Their temples stained with streams like blood, Then wander far away dispersed, Dark as huge clouds before they burst. But ere they part they drink their fill Of bright pure water from the rill, Delightful to the touch, where meet Scents of all flowers divinely sweet, Then speeding from the river side Deep in the sheltering thicket hide. Then bears and tigers shalt thou view Whose soft skins show the sapphire's hue, And silvan deer that wander nigh Shall harmless from thy presence fly. High in that mountain's wooded side Is a fair cavern deep and wide, Yet hard to enter: piles of rock The portals of the cavern block.(521) Fast by the eastern door a pool Gleams with broad waters fresh and cool, Where stores of roots and fruit abound, And thick trees shade the grassy ground. This mountain cave the virtuous-souled Sugriva, and his Vanars hold, And oft the mighty chieftain seeks The summits of those towering peaks."

He spoke: obedient to the eye Of Rama, Lakshman made reply, The name and fortune to unfold Of Raghu's son the lofty-souled: "True to the law, of fame unstained, The glorious Dasaratha reigned, And, steadfast in his duty, long Kept the four castes(550) from scathe and wrong. Through his wide realm his will was done, And, loved by all, he hated none. Just to each creature great and small, Like the Good Sire he cared for all. The Agnishtom,(551) as priests advised, And various rites he solemnized, Where ample largess ever paid The Brahmans for their holy aid. Here Rama stands, his heir by birth, Whose name is glorious in the earth: Sure refuge he of all oppressed, Most faithful to his sire's behest. He, Dasaratha's eldest born Whom gifts above the rest adorn, Lord of each high imperial sign,(552) The glory of his kingly line, Reft of his right, expelled from home, Came forth with me the woods to roam. And Sita too, his faithful dame, Forth with her virtuous husband came, Like the sweet light when day is done Still cleaving to her lord the sun. And me his sweet perfections drew To follow as his servant true. Named Lakshman, brother of my lord Of grateful heart with knowledge stored Most meet is he all bliss to share, Who makes the good of all his care. While, power and lordship cast away, In the wild wood he chose to stay, A giant came,--his name unknown,-- And stole the princess left alone. Then Diti's son(553) who, cursed of yore, The semblance of a Rakshas wore, To King Sugriva bade us turn The robber's name and home to learn. For he, the Vanar chief, would know The dwelling of our secret foe. Such words of hope spake Diti's son, And sought the heaven his deeds had won. Thou hast my tale. From first to last Thine ears have heard whate'er has past. Rama the mighty lord and I For refuge to Sugriva fly.

"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."

Forth went the legions of the west: And wise Sugriva addressed Satabal, summoned from the crowd. To whom the sovereign cried aloud: "Go forth, O Vanar chief, go forth, Explore the regions of the north. Thy host a hundred thousand be, And Yama's sons(733) attend on thee. With dauntless courage, strength, and skill Search every river, wood, and hill. Through every land in order go Right onward to the Hills of Snow. Search mid the peaks that shine afar, In woods of Lodh and Deodar.(734) Search if with Janak's daughter, screened By sheltering rocks, there lie the fiend. The holy grounds of Soma tread By Gods and minstrels visited. Reach Kala's mount, and flats that lie Among the peaks that tower on high. Then leave that hill that gleams with ore, And fair Sudarsan's heights explore. Then on to Devasakha(735) hie, Loved by the children of the sky. A dreary land you then will see Without a hill or brook or tree, A hundred leagues, bare, wild, and dread In lifeless desolation, spread. Pursue your onward way, and haste Through the dire horrors of the waste Until triumphant with delight You reach Kailasa's glittering height. There stands a palace decked with gold, For King Kuvera(736) wrought of old, A home the heavenly artist planned And fashioned with his cunning hand. There lotuses adorn the flood With full-blown flower and opening bud Where swans and mallards float, and gay Apsarases(737) come down to play. There King Vaisravan's(738) self, the lord By all the universe adored, Who golden gifts to mortals sends, Lives with the Guhyakas(739) his friends. Search every cavern in the steep, And green glens where the moonbeams sleep, If haply in that distant ground The robber and the dame be found. Then on to Krauncha's hill,(740) and through His fearful pass your way pursue: Though dark and terrible the vale Your wonted courage must not fail. There through abyss and cavern seek, On lofty ridge, and mountain peak, On, on!

"How, King," cried Rama, "didst thou gain Thy lore of sea and hill and plain?" "I told thee how," Sugriva said, "From Bali's arm Mayavi fled(744) To Malaya's hill, and strove to save His life by hiding in the cave. I told how Bali sought, to kill His foe, the hollow of the hill; Nor need I, King, again unfold The wondrous tale already told. Then, wandering forth, my way I took By many a town and wood and brook. I roamed the earth from place to place, Till, like a mirror's polished face, The whole broad disk, that lies between Its farthest bounds, mine eyes had seen. I wandered first to eastern skies Where fairest trees rejoiced mine eyes, And many a cave and wooded hill Where lilies robed the lake and rill. There metal dyes that hill(745) adorn Whence springs the sun to light the morn. There, too, I viewed the Milky sea, Where nymphs of heaven delight to be. Then to the south I made my way From regions of the rising day, And roamed o'er Vindhya, where the breeze Is odorous of sandal trees. Still in my fear I found no rest: I sought the regions of the west, And gazed on Asta,(746) where the sun Sinks when his daily course is run. Then from that noblest hill I fled And to the northern country sped, Saw Himavan,(747) and Meru's steep, And stood beside the northern deep. But when, by Bali's might oppressed, E'en in those wilds I could not rest, Came Hanuman the wise and brave, And thus his prudent counsel gave: "'I told thee how Matanga(748) cursed Thy tyrant, that his head should burst In pieces, should he dare invade The precincts of that tranquil shade. There may we dwell in peace and be From thy oppressor's malice free." We went to Rishyamuka's hill, And spent our days secure from ill Where, with that curse upon his head, The cruel Bali durst not tread."

The glorious sight a while he viewed, Then to the town his way pursued. Around the Vanar as he went Breathed from the wood delicious scent, And the soft grass beneath his feet With gem-like flowers was bright and sweet. Still as the Vanar nearer drew More clearly rose the town to view. The palm her fan-like leaves displayed, Priyalas(801) lent their pleasant shade, And mid the lower greenery far Conspicuous rose the Kovidar.(802) A thousand trees mid flowers that glowed Hung down their fruit's delicious load,(803) And in their crests that rocked and swayed Sweet birds delightful music made. And there were pleasant pools whereon The glories of the lotus shone; And gleams of sparkling fountains, stirred By many a joyous water-bird. Around, in lovely gardens grew Blooms sweet of scent and bright of hue, And Lanka, seat of Ravan's sway, Before the wondering Vanar lay: With stately domes and turrets tall, Encircled by a golden wall, And moats whose waters were aglow With lily blossoms bright below: For Sita's sake defended well With bolt and bar and sentinel, And Rakshases who roamed in bands With ready bows in eager hands. He saw the stately mansions rise Like pale-hued clouds in autumn skies; Where noble streets were broad and bright, And banners waved on every height. Her gates were glorious to behold Rich with the shine of burnished gold: A lovely city planned and decked By heaven's creative architect,(804) Fairest of earthly cities meet To be the Gods' celestial seat. The Vanar by the northern gate Thus in his heart began debate "Our mightiest host would strive in vain To take this city on the main: A city that may well defy The chosen warriors of the sky; A city never to be won E'en by the arm of Raghu's son. Here is no hope by guile to win The hostile hearts of those within. 'Twere vain to war, or bribe, or sow Dissension mid the Vanar foe.

He ceased, the royal Vanar heard, And swift, obedient to his word, Sprang forth in numbers none might tell From mountain, cave, and bosky dell, From rocky ledge and breezy height, Fierce Vanars burning for the fight. And Rama's course was southward bent Amid the mighty armament. On, joyous, pressed in close array The hosts who owned Sugriva's sway, With nimble feet, with rapid bound Exploring, ere they passed, the ground, While from ten myriad throats rang out The challenge and the battle shout. On roots and honeycomb they fed, And clusters from the boughs o'erhead, Or from the ground the tall trees tore Rich with the flowery load they bore. Some carried comrades, wild with mirth, Then cast their riders to the earth, Who swiftly to their feet arose And overthrew their laughing foes. While still rang out the general cry, "King Ravan and his fiends shall die," Still on, exulting in the pride Of conscious strength, the Vanars hied, And gazed where noble Sahya, best Of mountains, raised each towering crest. They looked on lake and streamlet, where The lotus bloom was bright and fair, Nor marched--for Rama's hest they feared Where town or haunt of men appeared. Still onward, fearful as the waves Of Ocean when he roars and raves, Led by their eager chieftains, went The Vanars' countless armament. Each captain, like a noble steed Urged by the lash to double speed. Pressed onward, filled with zeal and pride, By Rama's and his brother's side, Who high above the Vanar throng On mighty backs were borne along, Like the great Lords of Day and Night Seized by eclipsing planets might. Then Lakshman radiant as the morn, On Angad's shoulders high upborne. With sweet consoling words that woke New ardour, to his brother spoke: "Soon shalt thou turn, thy queen regained And impious Ravan's life-blood drained, In happiness and high renown To dear Ayodhya's happy town. I see around exceeding fair All omens of the earth and air.

The Vanars saw the giant foe Pour from the gate in gallant show, Rejoiced with warriors' fierce delight And shouted, longing for the fight. Near came the hosts and nearer yet: Dire was the tumult as they met, As, serried line to line opposed, The Vanars and the giants closed. Fierce on the foe the Vanars rushed, And, wielding trees, the foremost crushed; But, feathered from the heron's wing, With eager flight from sounding string, Against them shot with surest aim A ceaseless storm of arrows came: And, pierced in head and chest and side, Full many a Vanar fell and died. They perished slain in fierce attacks With sword and pike and battle-axe; But myriads following undismayed Their valour in the fight displayed. Unnumbered Vanars rent and torn With shaft and spear to earth were borne. But crushed by branchy trees and blocks Of jagged stone and shivered rocks Which the wild Vanars wielded well The bravest of the giants fell. Their trampled banners strewed the fields, And broken swords and spears and shields; And, crushed by blows which none might stay, Cars, elephants, and riders lay. Dhumraksha turned his furious eye And saw his routed legions fly. Still dauntless, with terrific blows, He struck and slew his foremost foes. At every blow, at every thrust, He laid a Vanar in the dust. So fell they neath the sword and lance In battle's wild Gandharva(961) dance, Where clang of bow and clash of sword Did duty for the silvery chord, And hoofs that rang and steeds that neighed Loud concert for the dancers made. So fiercely from Dhumraksha's bow His arrows rained in ceaseless flow, The Vanar legions turned and fled To all the winds discomfited. Hanuman saw the Vanars fly; He heaved a mighty rock on high. His keen eyes flashed with wrathful fire, And, rapid as the Wind his sire, Strong as the rushing tempests are, He hurled it at the advancing car.

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; 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."

There reigned a king of name revered, To country and to town endeared, Great Dasaratha, good and sage, Well read in Scripture's holy page: Upon his kingdom's weal intent, Mighty and brave and provident; The pride of old Ikshvaku's seed For lofty thought and righteous deed. Peer of the saints, for virtues famed, For foes subdued and passions tamed: A rival in his wealth untold Of Indra and the Lord of Gold. Like Manu first of kings, he reigned, And worthily his state maintained. For firm and just and ever true Love, duty, gain he kept in view, And ruled his city rich and free, Like Indra's Amaravati. And worthy of so fair a place There dwelt a just and happy race With troops of children blest. Each man contented sought no more, Nor longed with envy for the store By richer friends possessed. For poverty was there unknown, And each man counted as his own Kine, steeds, and gold, and grain. All dressed in raiment bright and clean, And every townsman might be seen With earrings, wreath, or chain. None deigned to feed on broken fare, And none was false or stingy there. A piece of gold, the smallest pay, Was earned by labour for a day. On every arm were bracelets worn, And none was faithless or forsworn, A braggart or unkind. None lived upon another's wealth, None pined with dread or broken health, Or dark disease of mind. High-souled were all. The slanderous word, The boastful lie, were never heard. Each man was constant to his vows, And lived devoted to his spouse. No other love his fancy knew, And she was tender, kind, and true. Her dames were fair of form and face, With charm of wit and gentle grace, With modest raiment simply neat, And winning manners soft and sweet. The twice-born sages, whose delight Was Scripture's page and holy rite, Their calm and settled course pursued, Nor sought the menial multitude. In many a Scripture each was versed, And each the flame of worship nursed, And gave with lavish hand.

The wise Sumantra, thus addressed, Unfolded at the king's behest The plan the lords in council laid To draw the hermit from the shade: "The priest, amid the lordly crowd, To Lomapad thus spoke aloud: "Hear, King, the plot our thoughts have framed, A harmless trick by all unblamed. Far from the world that hermit's child Lives lonely in the distant wild: A stranger to the joys of sense, His bliss is pain and abstinence; And all unknown are women yet To him, a holy anchoret. The gentle passions we will wake That with resistless influence shake The hearts of men; and he Drawn by enchantment strong and sweet Shall follow from his lone retreat, And come and visit thee. Let ships be formed with utmost care That artificial trees may bear, And sweet fruit deftly made; Let goodly raiment, rich and rare, And flowers, and many a bird be there Beneath the leafy shade. Upon the ships thus decked a band Of young and lovely girls shall stand, Rich in each charm that wakes desire, And eyes that burn with amorous fire; Well skilled to sing, and play, and dance And ply their trade with smile and glance Let these, attired in hermits' dress, Betake them to the wilderness, And bring the boy of life austere A voluntary captive here." He ended; and the king agreed, By the priest's counsel won. And all the ministers took heed To see his bidding done. In ships with wondrous art prepared Away the lovely women fared, And soon beneath the shade they stood Of the wild, lonely, dreary wood. And there the leafy cot they found Where dwelt the devotee, And looked with eager eyes around The hermit's son to see. Still, of Vibhandak sore afraid, They hid behind the creepers' shade. But when by careful watch they knew The elder saint was far from view, With bolder steps they ventured nigh To catch the youthful hermit's eye. Then all the damsels, blithe and gay, At various games began to play.

The Dewy Season(85) came and went; The spring returned again: Then would the king, with mind intent, His sacrifice ordain. He came to Rishyasring, and bowed To him of look divine, And bade him aid his offering vowed For heirs, to save his line. Nor would the youth his aid deny: He spake the monarch fair, And prayed him for that rite so high All requisites prepare. The king to wise Sumantra cried Who stood aye ready near; "Go summon quick each holy guide, To counsel and to hear." Obedient to his lord's behest Away Sumantra sped, And brought Vasishtha and the rest, In Scripture deeply read. Suyajna, Vamadeva came, Javali, Kasyap's son, And old Vasishtha, dear to fame, Obedient every one. King Dasaratha met them there And duly honoured each, And spoke in pleasant words his fair And salutary speech: "In childless longing doomed to pine, No happiness, O lords, is mine. So have I for this cause decreed To slay the sacrificial steed. Fain would I pay that offering high Wherein the horse is doomed to die, With Rishyasring his aid to lend, And with your glory to befriend." With loud applause each holy man Received his speech, approved the plan, And, by the wise Vasishtha led, Gave praises to the king, and said: "The sons thou cravest shalt thou see, Of fairest glory, born to thee, Whose holy feelings bid thee take This righteous course for offspring's sake." Cheered by the ready praise of those Whose aid he sought, his spirits rose, And thus the king his speech renewed With looks of joy and gratitude: "Let what the coming rites require Be ready as the priests desire, And let the horse, ordained to bleed, With fitting guard and priest, be freed,(86) Yonder on Sarju's northern side The sacrificial ground provide; And let the saving rites, that naught Ill-omened may occur, be wrought. The offering I announce to-day Each lord of earth may claim to pay, Provided that his care can guard The holy rite by flaws unmarred.

Again the spring with genial heat Returning made the year complete. To win him sons, without delay His vow the king resolved to pay: And to Vasishtha, saintly man, In modest words this speech began: "Prepare the rite with all things fit As is ordained in Holy Writ, And keep with utmost care afar Whate'er its sacred forms might mar. Thou art, my lord, my trustiest guide, Kind-hearted, and my friend beside; So is it meet thou undertake This heavy task for duty's sake." Then he, of twice-born men the best, His glad assent at once expressed: "Fain will I do whate'er may be Desired, O honoured King, by thee." To ancient priests he spoke, who, trained In holy rites, deep skill had gained: "Here guards be stationed, good and sage Religious men of trusted age. And various workmen send and call, Who frame the door and build the wall: With men of every art and trade, Who read the stars and ply the spade, And mimes and minstrels hither bring, And damsels trained to dance and sing." Then to the learned men he said, In many a page of Scripture read: "Be yours each rite performed to see According to the king's decree. And stranger Brahmans quickly call To this great rite that welcomes all. Pavilions for the princes, decked With art and ornament, erect, And handsome booths by thousands made The Brahman visitors to shade, Arranged in order side by side, With meat and drink and all supplied. And ample stables we shall need For many an elephant and steed: And chambers where the men may lie, And vast apartments, broad and high, Fit to receive the countless bands Of warriors come from distant lands. For our own people too provide Sufficient tents, extended wide, And stores of meat and drink prepare, And all that can be needed there. And food in plenty must be found For guests from all the country round. Of various viands presents make, For honour, not for pity's sake, That fit regard and worship be Paid to each caste in due degree.

Firm in the earth they stood at last, Where cunning craftsmen fixed them fast; And there unshaken each remained, Octagonal and smoothly planed. Then ribbons over all were hung, And flowers and scent around them flung. Thus decked they cast a glory forth Like the great saints who star the north.(102) The sacrificial altar then Was raised by skilful twice-born men, In shape and figure to behold An eagle with his wings of gold, With twice nine pits and formed three-fold Each for some special God, beside The pillars were the victims tied; The birds that roam the wood, the air, The water, and the land were there, And snakes and things of reptile birth, And healing herbs that spring from earth: As texts prescribe, in Scripture found, Three hundred victims there were bound. The steed devoted to the host Of Gods, the gem they honour most, Was duly sprinkled. Then the Queen Kausalya, with delighted mien, With reverent steps around him paced, And with sweet wreaths the victim graced; Then with three swords in order due She smote the steed with joy, and slew. That night the queen, a son to gain, With calm and steady heart was fain By the dead charger's side to stay From evening till the break of day. Then came three priests, their care to lead The other queens to touch the steed, Upon Kausalya to attend, Their company and aid to lend. As by the horse she still reclined, With happy mien and cheerful mind, With Rishyasring the twice-born came And praised and blessed the royal dame. The priest who well his duty knew, And every sense could well subdue, From out the bony chambers freed And boiled the marrow of the steed. Above the steam the monarch bent, And, as he smelt the fragrant scent, In time and order drove afar All error that his hopes could mar. Then sixteen priests together came And cast into the sacred flame The severed members of the horse, Made ready all in ordered course.

He spoke. The princes both obeyed, And reverence to each river paid.(160) They reached the southern shore at last, And gaily on their journey passed. A little space beyond there stood A gloomy awe-inspiring wood. The monarch's noble son began To question thus the holy man: "Whose gloomy forest meets mine eye Like some vast cloud that fills the sky? Pathless and dark it seems to be, Where birds in thousands wander free; Where shrill cicadas' cries resound, And fowl of dismal note abound. Lion, rhinoceros, and bear, Boar, tiger, elephant, are there, There shrubs and thorns run wild: Dhao, Sal, Bignonia, Bel,(161) are found, And every tree that grows on ground. How is the forest styled?" The glorious saint this answer made: "Dear child of Raghu, hear Who dwells within the horrid shade That looks so dark and drear. Where now is wood, long ere this day Two broad and fertile lands, Malaja and Karusha lay, Adorned by heavenly hands. Here, mourning friendship's broken ties, Lord Indra of the thousand eyes Hungered and sorrowed many a day, His brightness soiled with mud and clay, When in a storm of passion he Had slain his dear friend Namuchi. Then came the Gods and saints who bore Their golden pitchers brimming o'er With holy streams that banish stain, And bathed Lord Indra pure again. When in this land the God was freed From spot and stain of impious deed For that his own dear friend he slew, High transport thrilled his bosom through. Then in his joy the lands he blessed, And gave a boon they long possessed: "Because these fertile lands retain The washings of the blot and stain," 'Twas thus Lord Indra sware, "Malaja and Karusha's name Shall celebrate with deathless fame My malady and care."(162) "So be it," all the Immortals cried, When Indra's speech they heard, And with acclaim they ratified The names his lips conferred. Long time, O victor of thy foes, These happy lands had sweet repose, And higher still in fortune rose.

That night they slept and took their rest; And then the mighty saint addressed, With pleasant smile and accents mild These words to Raghu's princely child: "Well pleased am I. High fate be thine, Thou scion of a royal line. Now will I, for I love thee so, All heavenly arms on thee bestow. Victor with these, whoe'er oppose, Thy hand shall conquer all thy foes, Though Gods and spirits of the air, Serpents and fiends, the conflict dare. I'll give thee as a pledge of love The mystic arms they use above, For worthy thou to have revealed The weapons I have learnt to wield.(165) First, son of Raghu, shall be thine The arm of Vengeance, strong, divine: The arm of Fate, the arm of Right, And Vishnu's arm of awful might: That, before which no foe can stand, The thunderbolt of Indra's hand; And Siva's trident, sharp and dread, And that dire weapon Brahma's Head. And two fair clubs, O royal child, One Charmer and one Pointed styled With flame of lambent fire aglow, On thee, O Chieftain, I bestow. And Fate's dread net and Justice' noose That none may conquer, for thy use: And the great cord, renowned of old, Which Varun ever loves to hold. Take these two thunderbolts, which I Have got for thee, the Moist and Dry. Here Siva's dart to thee I yield, And that which Vishnu wont to wield. I give to thee the arm of Fire, Desired by all and named the Spire. To thee I grant the Wind-God's dart, Named Crusher, O thou pure of heart, This arm, the Horse's Head, accept, And this, the Curlew's Bill yclept, And these two spears, the best e'er flew, Named the Invincible and True. And arms of fiends I make thine own, Skull-wreath and mace that smashes bone. And Joyous, which the spirits bear, Great weapon of the sons of air. Brave offspring of the best of lords, I give thee now the Gem of swords, And offer next, thine hand to arm, The heavenly bards' beloved charm.

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.

The monarch, as Kaikeyi pressed With cruel words her dire request, Stood for a time absorbed in thought While anguish in his bosom wrought. "Does some wild dream my heart assail? Or do my troubled senses fail? Does some dire portent scare my view? Or frenzy's stroke my soul subdue?" Thus as he thought, his troubled mind In doubt and dread no rest could find, Distressed and trembling like a deer Who sees the dreaded tigress near. On the bare ground his limbs he threw, And many a long deep sigh he drew, Like a wild snake, with fury blind, By charms within a ring confined. Once as the monarch's fury woke, "Shame on thee!" from his bosom broke, And then in sense-bewildering pain He fainted on the ground again. At length, when slowly strength returned, He answered as his eyeballs burned With the wild fury of his ire Consuming her, as 'twere, with fire: "Fell traitress, thou whose thoughts design The utter ruin of my line, What wrong have I or Rama done? Speak murderess, speak thou wicked one, Seeks he not evermore to please Thee with all sonlike courtesies? By what persuasion art thou led To bring this ruin on his head? Ah me, that fondly unaware I brought thee home my life to share, Called daughter of a king, in truth A serpent with a venomed tooth! What fault can I pretend to find In Rama praised by all mankind, That I my darling should forsake? No, take my life, my glory take: Let either queen be from me torn, But not my well-loved eldest-born. Him but to see is highest bliss, And death itself his face to miss. The world may sunless stand, the grain May thrive without the genial rain, But if my Rama be not nigh My spirit from its frame will fly. Enough, thine impious plan forgo, O thou who plottest sin and woe. My head before thy feet, I kneel, And pray thee some compassion feel. O wicked dame, what can have led Thy heart to dare a plot so dread?

Calm and unmoved the prince explained His duty's claim and purpose high, The mother life and sense regained, Looked on her son and made reply: "If reverence be thy father's due, The same by right and love is mine: Go not, my charge I thus renew, Nor leave me here in woe to pine, What were such lonely life to me, Rites to the shades, or deathless lot? More dear, my son, one hour with thee Than all the world where thou art not." As bursts to view, when brands blaze high, Some elephant concealed by night, So, when he heard his mother's cry, Burnt Rama's grief with fiercer might. Thus to the queen, half senseless still, And Lakshman, burnt with heart-felt pain, True to the right, with steadfast will, His duteous speech he spoke again: "Brother, I know thy loving mind, Thy valour and thy truth I know, But now to claims of duty blind Thou and my mother swell my woe. The fruits of deeds in human life Make love, gain, duty, manifest, Dear when they meet as some fond wife With her sweet babes upon her breast. But man to duty first should turn Whene'er the three are not combined: For those who heed but gain we spurn, And those to pleasure all resigned. Shall then the virtuous disobey Hosts of an aged king and sire, Though feverous joy that father sway, Or senseless love or causeless ire? I have no power, commanded thus, To slight his promise and decree: The honoured sire of both of us, My mother's lord and life is he. Shall she, while yet the holy king Is living, on the right intent,-- Shall she, like some poor widowed thing, Go forth with me to banishment? Now, mother, speed thy parting son, And let thy blessing soothe my pain, That I may turn, mine exile done, Like King Yayati, home again. Fair glory and the fruit she gives, For lust of sway I ne'er will slight: What, for the span a mortal lives. Were rule of faith without the right?"

How could Kaikeyi's purpose bring On me this pain and suffering, Were not her change of heart decreed By Fate whose will commands the deed? I know my filial love has been The same throughout for every queen, And with the same affection she Has treated both her son and me. Her shameful words of cruel spite To stay the consecrating rite, And drive me banished from the throne,-- These I ascribe to Fate alone, How could she, born of royal race, Whom nature decks with fairest grace, Speak like a dame of low degree Before the king to torture me? But Fate, which none may comprehend, To which all life must bow and bend, In her and me its power has shown, And all my hopes are overthrown. What man, Sumitra's darling, may Contend with Fate's resistless sway, Whose all-commanding power we find Our former deeds alone can bind? Our life and death, our joy and pain, Anger and fear, and loss and gain, Each thing that is, in every state, All is the work of none but Fate. E'en saints, inspired with rigid zeal, When once the stroke of Fate they feel, In sternest vows no more engage, And fall enslaved by love and rage. So now the sudden stroke whose weight Descends unlooked for, comes of Fate, And with unpitying might destroys The promise of commencing joys. Weigh this true counsel in thy soul: With thy firm heart thy heart control; Then, brother, thou wilt cease to grieve For hindered rites which now I leave. So cast thy needless grief away, And strictly my commands obey. Those preparations check with speed, Nor let my throning rites proceed. Those urns that stand prepared to shed King-making drops upon my head, Shall, with their pure lustrations now Inaugurate my hermit's vow. Yet what have I to do with things That touch the state and pomp of kings? These hands of mine shall water take To sanctify the vow I make. Now Lakshman, let thy heart no more My fortune changed and lost deplore.

Then Sita, best of womankind, Ascended, with a tranquil mind, Soon as her toilet task was done, That chariot brilliant as the sun. Rama and Lakshman true and bold Sprang on the car adorned with gold. The king those years had counted o'er, And given Sita robes and store Of precious ornaments to wear When following her husband there. The brothers in the car found place For nets and weapons of the chase, There warlike arms and mail they laid, A leathern basket and a spade. Soon as Sumantra saw the three Were seated in the chariot, he Urged on each horse of noble breed, Who matched the rushing wind in speed. As thus the son of Raghu went Forth for his dreary banishment, Chill numbing grief the town assailed, All strength grew weak, all spirit failed, Ayodhya through her wide extent Was filled with tumult and lament: Steeds neighed and shook the bells they bore, Each elephant returned a roar. Then all the city, young and old, Wild with their sorrow uncontrolled, Rushed to the car, as, from the sun The panting herds to water run. Before the car, behind, they clung, And there as eagerly they hung, With torrents streaming from their eyes, Called loudly with repeated cries: "Listen, Sumantra: draw thy rein; Drive gently, and thy steeds restrain. Once more on Rama will we gaze, Now to be lost for many days. The queen his mother has, be sure, A heart of iron, to endure To see her godlike Rama go, Nor feel it shattered by the blow. Sita, well done! Videha's pride, Still like his shadow by his side; Rejoicing in thy duty still As sunlight cleaves to Meru's hill. Thou, Lakshman, too, hast well deserved, Who from thy duty hast not swerved, Tending the peer of Gods above, Whose lips speak naught but words of love. Thy firm resolve is nobly great, And high success on thee shall wait. Yea, thou shalt win a priceless meed-- Thy path with him to heaven shall lead."

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.

O'er many a stream beside he sped With coursers on the mountains bred, And passing Hastiprishthak, took The road o'er Kutika's fair brook. Then, at Lohitya's village, he Crossed o'er the swift Kapivati, Then passed, where Ekasala stands, The Sthanumati's flood and sands, And Gomati of fair renown By Vinata's delightful town. When to Kalinga near he drew, A wood of Sal trees charmed the view; That passed, the sun began to rise, And Bharat saw with happy eyes, Ayodhya's city, built and planned By ancient Manu's royal hand. Seven nights upon the road had passed, And when he saw the town at last Before him in her beauty spread, Thus Bharat to the driver said: "This glorious city from afar, Wherein pure groves and gardens are, Seems to my eager eyes to-day A lifeless pile of yellow clay. Through all her streets where erst a throng Of men and women streamed along, Uprose the multitudinous roar: To-day I hear that sound no more. No longer do mine eyes behold The leading people, as of old, On elephants, cars, horses, go Abroad and homeward, to and fro. The brilliant gardens, where we heard The wild note of each rapturous bird, Where men and women loved to meet, In pleasant shades, for pastime sweet,-- These to my eyes this day appear Joyless, and desolate, and drear: Each tree that graced the garden grieves, And every path is spread with leaves. The merry cry of bird and beast, That spake aloud their joy, has ceased: Still is the long melodious note That charmed us from each warbling throat. Why blows the blessed air no more, The incense-breathing air that bore Its sweet incomparable scent Of sandal and of aloe blent? Why are the drum and tabour mute? Why is the music of the lute That woke responsive to the quill, Loved by the happy, hushed and still? My boding spirit gathers hence Dire sins of awful consequence, And omens, crowding on my sight, Weigh down my soul with wild affright.

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.

The speech of Bharat Guha heard, And swift to do his bidding stirred. Within the town the monarch sped And to his ready kinsmen said: "Awake, each kinsman, rise, each friend! May every joy your lives attend. Gather each boat upon the shore And ferry all the army o'er." Thus Guha spoke: nor they delayed, But, rising quick, their lord obeyed, And soon, from every side secured, Five hundred boats were ready moored. Some reared aloft the mystic sign,(363) And mighty bells were hung in line: Of firmest build, gay flags they bore, And sailors for the helm and oar. One such King Guha chose, whereon, Of fair white cloth, an awning shone, And sweet musicians charmed the ear,-- And bade his servants urge it near. Then Bharat swiftly sprang on board, And then Satrughna, famous lord, To whom, with many a royal dame, Kausalya and Sumitra came. The household priest went first in place, The elders, and the Brahman race, And after them the monarch's train Of women borne in many a wain. Then high to heaven the shouts of those Who fired the army's huts,(364) arose, With theirs who bathed along the shore, Or to the boats the baggage bore. Full freighted with that mighty force The boats sped swiftly on their course, By royal Guha's servants manned, And gentle gales the banners fanned. Some boats a crowd of dames conveyed, In others noble coursers neighed; Some chariots and their cattle bore, Some precious wealth and golden store. Across the stream each boat was rowed, There duly disembarked its load, And then returning on its way, Sped here and there in merry play. Then swimming elephants appeared With flying pennons high upreared. And as the drivers urged them o'er, The look of winged mountains wore. Some men in barges reached the strand, Others on rafts came safe to land: Some buoyed with pitchers crossed the tide, And others on their arms relied. Thus with the help the monarch gave The army crossed pure Ganga's wave: Then in auspicious hour it stood Within Prayaga's famous wood.

Then Rama, like the lotus eyed, Descended from the mountain side, And to the Maithil lady showed The lovely stream that softly flowed. And thus Ayodhya's lord addressed His bride, of dames the loveliest, Child of Videha's king, her face Bright with the fair moon's tender grace: "How sweetly glides, O darling, look, Mandakini's delightful brook, Adorned with islets, blossoms gay, And sarases and swans at play! The trees with which her banks are lined Show flowers and fruit of every kind: The match in radiant sheen is she Of King Kuvera's Nalini.(373) My heart exults with pleasure new The shelving band and ford to view, Where gathering herds of thirsty deer Disturb the wave that ran so clear. Now look, those holy hermits mark In skins of deer and coats of bark; With twisted coils of matted hair, The reverend men are bathing there, And as they lift their arms on high The Lord of Day they glorify: These best of saints, my large-eyed spouse, Are constant to their sacred vows. The mountain dances while the trees Bend their proud summits to the breeze, And scatter many a flower and bud From branches that o'erhang the flood. There flows the stream like lucid pearl, Round islets here the currents whirl, And perfect saints from middle air Are flocking to the waters there. See, there lie flowers in many a heap From boughs the whistling breezes sweep, And others wafted by the gale Down the swift current dance and sail. Now see that pair of wild-fowl rise, Exulting with their joyful cries: Hark, darling, wafted from afar How soft their pleasant voices are. To gaze on Chitrakuta's hill, To look upon this lovely rill, To bend mine eyes on thee, dear wife, Is sweeter than my city life. Come, bathe we in the pleasant rill Whose dancing waves are never still, Stirred by those beings pure from sin, The sanctities who bathe therein: Come, dearest, to the stream descend, Approach her as a darling friend, And dip thee in the silver flood Which lotuses and lilies stud.

Preserve us, for on thee we call, Our sire, Kaikeyi, me and all Thy citizens, thy kith and kin; Preserve us and reverse the sin. To live in woods a devotee Can scarce with royal tasks agree, Nor can the hermit's matted hair Suit fitly with a ruler's care. Do not, my brother, do not still Pursue this life that suits thee ill. Mid duties of a king we count His consecration paramount, That he with ready heart and hand May keep his people and his land. What Warrior born to royal sway From certain good would turn away, A doubtful duty to pursue, That mocks him with the distant view? Thou wouldst to duty cleave, and gain The meed that follows toil and pain. In thy great task no labour spare: Rule the four castes with justest care. Mid all the four, the wise prefer The order of the householder:(383) Canst thou, whose thoughts to duty cleave, The best of all the orders leave? My better thou in lore divine, My birth, my sense must yield to thine: While thou, my lord, art here to reign, How shall my hands the rule maintain? O faithful lover of the right, Take with thy friends the royal might, Let thy sires' realm, from trouble free, Obey her rightful king in thee. Here let the priests and lords of state Our monarch duly consecrate, With prayer and holy verses blessed By saint Vasishtha and the rest. Anointed king by us, again Seek fair Ayodhya, there to reign, And like imperial Indra girt By Gods of Storm, thy might assert. From the three debts(384) acquittance earn, And with thy wrath the wicked burn, O'er all of us thy rule extend, And cheer with boons each faithful friend. Let thine enthronement, lord, this day Make all thy lovers glad and gay, And let all those who hate thee flee To the ten winds for fear of thee. Dear lord, my mother's words of hate With thy sweet virtues expiate, And from the stain of folly clear The father whom we both revere.

Truth, only truth protects the land, By truth unharmed our houses stand; Neglect of truth makes men distressed, And truth in highest heaven is blessed. Then how can I, rebellious, break Commandments which my father spake-- I ever true and faithful found, And by my word of honour bound? My father's bridge of truth shall stand Unharmed by my destructive hand: Not folly, ignorance, or greed My darkened soul shall thus mislead. Have we not heard that God and shade Turn from the hated offerings paid By him whose false and fickle mind No pledge can hold, no promise bind? Truth is all duty: as the soul, It quickens and supports the whole. The good respect this duty: hence Its sacred claims I reverence. The Warrior's duty I despise That seeks the wrong in virtue's guise: Those claims I shrink from, which the base, Cruel, and covetous embrace. The heart conceives the guilty thought, Then by the hand the sin is wrought, And with the pair is leagued a third, The tongue that speaks the lying word. Fortune and land and name and fame To man's best care have right and claim; The good will aye to truth adhere, And its high laws must men revere. Base were the deed thy lips would teach, Approved as best by subtle speech. Shall I my plighted promise break, That I these woods my home would make? Shall I, as Bharat's words advise, My father's solemn charge despise? Firm stands the oath which then before My father's face I soothly swore, Which Queen Kaikeyi's anxious ear Rejoiced with highest joy to hear. Still in the wood will I remain, With food prescribed my life sustain, And please with fruit and roots and flowers Ancestral shades and heavenly powers. Here every sense contented, still Heeding the bounds of good and ill, My settled course will I pursue, Firm in my faith and ever true. Here in this wild and far retreat Will I my noble task complete; And Fire and Wind and Moon shall be Partakers of its fruit with me.

A hundred offerings duly wrought His rank o'er Gods for Indra bought, And mighty saints their heaven secured By torturing years on earth endured." That scoffing plea the hero spurned, And thus he spake once more, Chiding, the while his bosom burned, Javali's impious lore: "Justice, and courage ne'er dismayed, Pity for all distressed, Truth, loving honour duly paid To Brahman, God, and guest-- In these, the true and virtuous say, Should lives of men be passed: They form the right and happy way That leads to heaven at last. My father's thoughtless act I chide That gave thee honoured place, Whose soul, from virtue turned aside, Is faithless, dark, and base. We rank the Buddhist with the thief,(388) And all the impious crew Who share his sinful disbelief, And hate the right and true. Hence never should wise kings who seek To rule their people well, Admit, before their face to speak, The cursed infidel. But twice-born men in days gone by, Of other sort than thou, Have wrought good deeds, whose glories high Are fresh among us now: This world they conquered, nor in vain They strove to win the skies: The twice-born hence pure lives maintain, And fires of worship rise. Those who in virtue's path delight, And with the virtuous live,-- Whose flames of holy zeal are bright, Whose hands are swift to give, Who injure none, and good and mild In every grace excel, Whose lives by sin are undefiled, We love and honour well." Thus Rama spoke in righteous rage Javali's speech to chide, When thus again the virtuous sage In truthful words replied: "The atheist's lore I use no more, Not mine his impious creed: His words and doctrine I abhor, Assumed at time of need. E'en as I rose to speak with thee, The fit occasion came That bade me use the atheist's plea To turn thee from thine aim. The atheist creed I disavow, Unsay the words of sin, And use the faithful's language now Thy favour, Prince, to win."

Blest by the sage, when Raghu's son His onward journey had begun, Thus in her soft tone Sita, meek With modest fear, began to speak: "One little slip the great may lead To shame that follows lawless deed: Such shame, my lord, as still must cling To faults from low desire that spring. Three several sins defile the soul, Born of desire that spurns control: First, utterance of a lying word, Then, viler both, the next, and third: The lawless love of other's wife, The thirst of blood uncaused by strife. The first, O Raghu's son, in thee None yet has found, none e'er shall see. Love of another's dame destroys All merit, lost for guilty joys: Rama, such crime in thee, I ween, Has ne'er been found, shall ne'er be seen: The very thought, my princely lord, Is in thy secret soul abhorred. For thou hast ever been the same Fond lover of thine own dear dame, Content with faithful heart to do Thy father's will, most just and true: Justice, and faith, and many a grace In thee have found a resting-place. Such virtues, Prince, the good may gain Who empire o'er each sense retain; And well canst thou, with loving view Regarding all, each sense subdue. But for the third, the lust that strives, Insatiate still, for others' lives,-- Fond thirst of blood where hate is none,-- This, O my lord, thou wilt not shun. Thou hast but now a promise made, The saints of Dandak wood to aid: And to protect their lives from ill The giants' blood in tight wilt spill: And from thy promise lasting fame Will glorify the forest's name. Armed with thy bow and arrows thou Forth with thy brother journeyest now, While as I think how true thou art Fears for thy bliss assail my heart, And all my spirit at the sight Is troubled with a strange affright. I like it not--it seems not good-- Thy going thus to Dandak wood: And I, if thou wilt mark me well, The reason of my fear will tell.

See where the rice plants scarce uphold Their full ears tinged with paly gold, Bending their ripe heads slowly down Fair as the date tree's flowery crown. Though now the sun has mounted high Seeking the forehead of the sky, Such mist obscures his struggling beams, No bigger than the moon he seems. Though weak at first, his rays at length Grow pleasant in their noonday strength, And where a while they chance to fall Fling a faint splendour over all. See, o'er the woods where grass is wet With hoary drops that cling there yet, With soft light clothing earth and bough There steals a tender glory now. Yon elephant who longs to drink, Still standing on the river's brink, Plucks back his trunk in shivering haste From the cold wave he fain would taste. The very fowl that haunt the mere Stand doubtful on the bank, and fear To dip them in the wintry wave As cowards dread to meet the brave. The frost of night, the rime of dawn Bind flowerless trees and glades of lawn: Benumbed in apathetic chill Of icy chains they slumber still. You hear the hidden saras cry From floods that wrapped in vapour lie, And frosty-shining sands reveal Where the unnoticed rivers steal. The hoary rime of dewy night, And suns that glow with tempered light Lend fresh cool flavours to the rill That sparkles from the topmost hill. The cold has killed the lily's pride: Leaf, filament, and flower have died: With chilling breath rude winds have blown, The withered stalk is left alone. At this gay time, O noblest chief, The faithful Bharat, worn by grief, Lives in the royal town where he Spends weary hours for love of thee. From titles, honour, kingly sway, From every joy he turns away: Couched on cold earth, his days are passed With scanty fare and hermit's fast. This moment from his humble bed He lifts, perhaps, his weary head, And girt by many a follower goes To bathe where silver Sarju flows.

With ruddy streams each limb was dyed From gaping wounds in breast and side, Showing the hero like the sun 'Mid crimson clouds ere day is done. Then, at that sight of terror, faint Grew God, Gandharva, sage, and saint, Trembling to see the prince oppose His single might to myriad foes. But waxing wroth, with force unspent, He strained his bow to utmost bent, And forth his arrows keen and true In hundreds, yea in thousands flew,-- Shafts none could ward, and none endure: Death's fatal noose was scarce so sure. As 'twere in playful ease he shot His gilded shafts, and rested not. With swiftest flight and truest aim Upon the giant hosts they came. Each smote, each stayed a foeman's breath As fatal as the coil of Death. Each arrow through a giant tore A passage, and besmeared with gore, Pursued its onward way and through The air with flamy brilliance flew. Unnumbered were the arrows sent From the great bow which Rama bent, And every shaft with iron head The lifeblood of a giant shed. Their pennoned bows were cleft, nor mail Nor shield of hide could aught avail. For Rama's myriad arrows tore Through arms, and bracelets which they wore, And severed mighty warriors' thighs Like trunks of elephants in size, And cut resistless passage sheer Through gold-decked horse and charioteer, Slew elephant and rider, slew The horseman and the charger too, And infantry unnumbered sent To dwell 'neath Yama's government. Then rose on high a fearful yell Of rovers of the night, who fell Beneath that iron torrent, sore Wounded by shafts that rent and tore. So mangled by the ceaseless storm Of shafts of every kind and form, Such joy they found, as forests feel When scorched by flame, from Rama's steel. The mightiest still the fight maintained, And furious upon Rama rained Dart, arrow, spear, with wild attacks Of mace, and club, and battle-axe. But the great chief, unconquered yet, Their weapons with his arrows met, Which severed many a giant's head, And all the plain with corpses spread.

"Long are his arms and large his eyes: A black deer's skin his dress supplies. King Dasaratha's son is he, Fair as Kandarpa's self to see. Adorned with many a golden band, A bow, like Indra's, arms his hand, And shoots a flood of arrows fierce As venomed snakes to burn and pierce. I looked, I looked, but never saw His mighty hand the bowstring draw That sent the deadly arrows out, While rang through air his battle-shout. I looked, I looked, and saw too well How with that hail the giants fell, As falls to earth the golden grain, Struck by the blows of Indra's rain. He fought, and twice seven thousand, all Terrific giants, strong and tall, Fell by the pointed shafts o'erthrown Which Rama shot on foot, alone. Three little hours had scarcely fled,-- Khara and Dushan both were dead, And he had freed the saints and made Asylum sure in Dandak's shade. Me of his grace the victor spared, Or I the giants' fate had shared. The high-souled Rama would not deign His hand with woman's blood to stain. The glorious Lakshman, justly dear, In gifts and warrior might his peer, Serves his great brother with the whole Devotion of his faithful soul: Impetuous victor, bold and wise, First in each hardy enterprise, Still ready by his side to stand, A second self or better hand. And Rama has a large-eyed spouse, Pure as the moon her cheek and brows, Dearer than life in Rama's sight, Whose happiness is her delight. With beauteous hair and nose the dame From head to foot has naught to blame. She shines the wood's bright Goddess, Queen Of beauty with her noble mien. First in the ranks of women placed Is Sita of the dainty waist. In all the earth mine eyes have ne'er Seen female form so sweetly fair. Goddess nor nymph can vie with her, Nor bride of heavenly chorister. He who might call this dame his own, Her eager arms about him thrown, Would live more blest in Sita's love Than Indra in the world above.

I only spoke to tell the deed O mighty one, by me decreed, And bid thee in the peril lend Thy succour to support thy friend. Hear me again, and I will tell How thou canst aid my venture well. In semblance of a golden deer Adorned with silver drops, appear: And near the cottage in the way Of Rama and his consort stray. Draw nigh, and wandering through the brake With thy strange form her fancy take. The Maithil dame with wondering eyes Will took upon thy fair disguise, And quickly bid her husband go And bring the deer that charms her so, When Raghu's son has left the place, Still pressing onward in the chase, Cry out, "O Lakshman! Ah, mine own!" With voice resembling Rama's tone. When Lakshman hears his brother's cry, Impelled by Sita he will fly, Restless with eager love, to aid The hunter in the distant shade. When both her guards have left her side, Even as Indra, thousand-eyed, Clasps Sachi, will I bear away The Maithil dame an easy prey. When thou, my friend, this aid hast lent, Go where thou wilt and live content. True servant, faithful to thy vow, With half my realm I thee endow. Go forth, may luck thy way attend That leads thee to the happy end. I in my car will quickly be In Dandak wood, and follow thee. So will I cheat this Rama's eyes And win without a blow the prize; And safe return to Lanka's town With thee, my friend, this day shall crown. But if thou wilt not aid my will, My hand this day thy blood shall spill. Yea, thou must share the destined task, For force will take the help I ask. No bliss that rebel's life attends Whose stubborn will his lord offends. Thy life, if thou the task assay, In jeopardy may stand; Oppose me, and this very day Thou diest by this hand. Now ponder all that thou hast heard Within thy prudent breast: Reflect with care on every word, And do what seems the best."

Thus Ravan spoke, Maricha heard Obedient to his master's word, Threw off his giant shape and near The cottage strayed a beauteous deer. With magic power, by rapid change, His borrowed form was fair and strange. A sapphire tipped each horn with light; His face was black relieved with white. The turkis and the ruby shed A glory from his ears and head. His arching neck was proudly raised, And lazulites beneath it blazed. With roseate bloom his flanks were dyed, And lotus tints adorned his hide. His shape was fair, compact, and slight; His hoofs were carven lazulite. His tail with every changing glow Displayed the hues of Indra's bow. With glossy skin so strangely flecked, With tints of every gem bedecked. A light o'er Rama's home he sent, And through the wood, where'er he went. The giant clad in that strange dress That took the soul with loveliness, To charm the fair Videhan's eyes With mingled wealth of mineral dyes, Moved onward, cropping in his way, The grass and grain and tender spray. His coat with drops of silver bright, A form to gaze on with delight, He raised his fair neck as he went To browse on bud and filament. Now in the Cassia grove he strayed, Now by the cot in plantains' shade. Slowly and slowly on he came To catch the glances of the dame, And the tall deer of splendid hue Shone full at length in Sita's view. He roamed where'er his fancy chose Where Rama's leafy cottage rose. Now near, now far, in careless ease, He came and went among the trees. Now with light feet he turned to fly, Now, reassured, again drew nigh: Now gambolled close with leap and bound, Now lay upon the grassy ground: Now sought the door, devoid of fear, And mingled with the troop of deer; Led them a little way, and thence Again returned with confidence. Now flying far, now turning back Emboldened on his former track, Seeking to win the lady's glance He wandered through the green expanse.

"Mark, Lakshman, mark how Sita's breast With eager longing is possessed. To-day this deer of wondrous breed Must for his passing beauty bleed, Brighter than e'er in Nandan strayed, Or Chaitraratha's heavenly shade. How should the groves of earth possess Such all-surpassing loveliness! The hair lies smooth and bright and fine, Or waves upon each curving line, And drops of living gold bedeck The beauty of his side and neck. O look, his crimson tongue between His teeth like flaming fire is seen, Flashing, whene'er his lips he parts, As from a cloud the lightning darts. O see his sunlike forehead shine With emerald tints and almandine, While pearly light and roseate glow Of shells adorn his neck below. No eye on such a deer can rest But soft enchantment takes the breast: No man so fair a thing behold Ablaze with light of radiant gold, Celestial, bright with jewels' sheen, Nor marvel when his eyes have seen. A king equipped with bow and shaft Delights in gentle forest craft, And as in boundless woods he strays The quarry for the venison slays. There as he wanders with his train A store of wealth he oft may gain. He claims by right the precious ore, He claims the jewels' sparkling store. Such gains are dearer in his eyes Than wealth that in his chamber lies, The dearest things his spirit knows, Dear as the bliss which Sukra chose. But oft the rich expected gain Which heedless men pursue in vain, The sage, who prudent counsels know, Explain and in a moment show. This best of deer, this gem of all, To yield his precious spoils must fall, And tender Sita by my side Shall sit upon the golden hide. Ne'er could I find so rich a coat On spotted deer or sheep or goat. No buck or antelope has such, So bright to view, so soft to touch. This radiant deer and one on high That moves in glory through the sky, Alike in heavenly beauty are, One on the earth and one a star.