Ramayana on Strength

The monstrous fiend, to anger stirred, The converse of the brothers heard. His horrid mouth he opened wide And drew the princes to his side. They, skilled due time and place to note Unsheathed their glittering swords and smote, Till from the giant's shoulders they Had hewn the mighty arms away. His trenchant falchion Rama plied And smote him on the better side, While valiant Lakshman on the left The arm that held him prisoned cleft. Then to the earth dismembered fell The monster with a hideous yell, And like a cloud's his deep roar went Through earth and air and firmament. Then as the giant's blood flowed fast, On his cleft limbs his eye he cast, And called upon the princely pair Their names and lineage to declare. Him then the noble Lakshman, blest With fortune's favouring marks, addressed, And told the fiend his brother's name And the high blood of which he came: "Ikshvaku's heir here Rama stands, Illustrious through a hundred lands. I, younger brother of the heir, O fiend, the name of Lakshman bear. His mother stole his realm away And drove him forth in woods to stray. Thus through the mighty forest he Roamed with his royal wife and me. While glorious as a God he made His dwelling in the greenwood shade, Some giant stole away his dame, And seeking her we hither came. But tell me who thou art, and why With headless trunk that towered so high, With flaming face beneath thy chest, Thou liest crushed in wild unrest."

Then, skilled in lore and arts that guide The speaker, Raghu's son replied: "For fourteen years I might not break The mandate that my father spake; Nor can I, till that time be fled, The street of town or village tread. Let King Sugriva seek the town Most worthy of her high renown, There let him be without delay Anointed, and begin his sway."

He smiled, and on his brother gazed Who sate with reverent hands upraised, And said: "My brother, thou must be Joint-ruler of this land with me. My second self thou, Lakshman, art, And in my fortune bearest part. Be thine, Sumitra's son, to know The joys from regal power that flow. My life itself, the monarch's seat, For thy dear sake to me are sweet."

Then Rama, pierced by anger's sting, Laid a keen arrow on his string, And by the faithful Lakshman's side Roamed through the forest far and wide. Jatayus there with blood-drops dyed, Lying upon the ground he spied, Huge as a mountain's shattered crest, Mid all the birds of air the best. In wrath the mighty bird he eyed, And thus the chief to Lakshman cried:

She thought upon her lord and sighed, And thus in gentle tones replied: "Beseems thee not, O King, to woo A matron, to her husband true. Thus vainly one might hope by sin And evil deeds success to win. Shall I, so highly born, disgrace My husband's house, my royal race? Shall I, a true and loyal dame, Defile my soul with deed of shame?"

Such were his thoughts: he pondered long, And fear grew faint and hope grew strong. Then round him heavenly voices rang, And, sweetly tuned, his praises sang: "O glorious is the exploit done By Hanuman the Wind-God's son. The flames o'er Lanka's city rise: The giants' home in ruin lies. O'er roof and wall the fires have spread, Nor harmed a hair of Sita's head."

Three nights upon the road they passed To rest the steeds that bore them fast, And reached Ayodhya's town at last. Then straight at Dasaratha's call They stood within the royal hall, Where, like a God, inspiring awe, The venerable king they saw. With suppliant palm to palm applied, And all their terror laid aside, They spoke to him upon the throne With modest words, in gentle tone: "Janak, Videha's king, O Sire, Has sent us hither to inquire The health of thee his friend most dear, Of all thy priests and every peer. Next Kusik's son consenting, thus King Janak speaks, dread liege, by us: "I made a promise and decree That valour's prize my child should be. Kings, worthless found in worth's assay, With mien dejected turned away. Thy sons, by Visvamitra led, Unurged, my city visited, And peerless in their might have gained My daughter, as my vow ordained. Full in a vast assembly's view Thy hero Rama broke in two The gem of bows, of monstrous size, That came a treasure from the skies. Ordained the prize of hero's might, Sita my child is his by right. Fain would I keep my promise made, If thou, O King, approve and aid. Come to my town thy son to see: Bring holy guide and priest with thee. O lord of kings, my suit allow, And let me keep my promised vow. So joying for thy children's sake Their triumph too shalt thou partake, With Visvamitra's high consent." Such words with friendship eloquent Spoke Janak, fair Videha's king, By Satananda's counselling."

Before the queen the giant laid The beauteous head his art had made. And Ravan cried: "Thine eyes will know These arrows and the mighty bow. With fame of this by Rama strung The earth and heaven and hell have rung. Prahasta brought it hither when His hand had slain thy prince of men. Now, widowed Queen, thy hopes resign: Forget thy husband and be mine."

From wrathful Khara's hand, whose art Well knew each vulnerable part, Four keenly-piercing arrows flew, And blood in Rama's bosom drew, With every limb distained with gore From deadly shafts which rent and tore, From Khara's clanging bowstring shots, The prince's wrath waxed wondrous hot. His hand upon his bow that best Of mighty archers firmly pressed, And from the well-drawn bowstring, true Each to its mark, six arrows flew. One quivered in the giant's head, With two his brawny shoulders bled; Three, with the crescent heads they bore, Deep in his breast a passage tore. Thirteen, to which the stone had lent The keenest point, were swiftly sent On the fierce giant, every one Destructive, gleaming like the sun. With four the dappled steeds he slew; One cleft the chariot yoke in two, One, in the heat of battle sped, Smote from the neck the driver's head. The poles were rent apart by three; Two broke the splintered axle-tree. Then from the hand of Rama, while Across his lips there came a smile, The twelfth, like thunderbolt impelled, Cut the great hand and bow it held. Then, scarce by Indra's self surpassed, He pierced the giant with the last. The bow he trusted cleft in twain, His driver and his horses slain, Down sprang the giant, mace in hand, On foot against the foe to stand. The Gods and saints in bright array Close gathered in the skies, The prince's might in battle-fray Beheld with joyful eyes. Uprising from their golden seats, Their hands in honour raised, They looked on Rama's noble feats, And blessed him as they praised.

"Who is this Rama, whence, and where? His form, his might, his deeds declare. His wandering steps what purpose led To Dandak forest, hard to tread? What arms are his that he could smite In fray the rovers of the night, And Trisiras and Dushan lay Low on the earth, and Khara slay? Tell all, my sister, and declare Who maimed thee thus, of form most fair."

Soon as his stature they beheld, Their fear and sorrow were dispelled; And joyous praises loud and long Rang out from all the Vanar throng. On the great chief their eyes they bent In rapture and astonishment, As, when his conquering foot he raised, The Gods upon Narayan(785) gazed. He stood amid the joyous crowd, Bent to the chiefs, and cried aloud: "The Wind-God, Fire's eternal friend, Whose blasts the mountain summits rend, With boundless force that none may stay, Takes where he lists his viewless way. Sprung from that glorious father, I In power and speed with him may vie, A thousand times with airy leap Can circle loftiest Meru's steep: With my fierce arms can stir the sea Till from their bed the waters flee And rush at my command to drown This land with grove and tower and town. I through the fields of air can spring Far swifter than the feathered King, And leap before him as he flies, On sounding pinions through the skies. I can pursue the Lord of Light Uprising from the eastern height, And reach him ere his course be sped With burning beams engarlanded. I will dry up the mighty main, Shatter the rocks and rend the plain. O'er earth and ocean will I bound, And every flower that grows on ground, And bloom of climbing plants shall show Strewn on the ground, the way I go, Bright as the lustrous path that lies Athwart the region of the skies.(786) The Maithil lady will I find,-- Thus speaks mine own prophetic mind,-- And cast in hideous ruin down The shattered walls of Lanka's town."

He looked upon that archer chief Whose full eye mocked the lotus leaf, And thus the noble Vanar spake: "Now meet the queen for whose dear sake Thy mighty task was first begun, And now the glorious fruit is won. O'erwhelmed with woe thy lady lies, The hot tears streaming from her eyes. And still the queen must long and pine Until those eyes be turned to thine."

The hermit with his tender eyes Looked on Trisanku's altered guise, And grieving at his ruined state Addressed him thus, compassionate: "Great King," the pious hermit said, "What cause thy steps has hither led, Ayodhya's mighty Sovereign, whom A curse has plagued with outcast's doom?" In vile Chandala(237) shape, the king Heard Visvamitra's questioning, And, suppliant palm to palm applied, With answering eloquence he cried: "My priest and all his sons refused To aid the plan on which I mused. Failing to win the boon I sought, To this condition I was brought. I, in the body, Saint, would fain A mansion in the skies obtain. I planned a hundred rites for this, But still was doomed the fruit to miss. Pure are my lips from falsehood's stain, And pure they ever shall remain,-- Yea, by a Warrior's faith I swear,-- Though I be tried with grief and care. Unnumbered rites to Heaven I paid, With righteous care the sceptre swayed; And holy priest and high-souled guide My modest conduct gratified. But, O thou best of hermits, they Oppose my wish these rites to pay; They one and all refuse consent, Nor aid me in my high intent. Fate is, I ween, the power supreme, Man's effort but an idle dream, Fate whirls our plans, our all away; Fate is our only hope and stay; Now deign, O blessed Saint, to aid Me, even me by Fate betrayed, Who come, a suppliant, sore distressed, One grace, O Hermit, to request. No other hope or way I see: No other refuge waits for me. Oh, aid me in my fallen state, And human will shall conquer Fate."

The long-eyed lady ceased: she shed Pure scent and grain upon his head. And that prized herb whose sovereign power Preserves from dark misfortune's hour, Upon the hero's arm she set, To be his faithful amulet. While holy texts she murmured low, And spoke glad words though crushed by woe, Concealing with obedient tongue The pangs with which her heart was wrung. She bent, she kissed his brow, she pressed Her darling to her troubled breast: "Firm in thy purpose, go," she cried, "Go Rama, and may bliss betide. Attain returning safe and well, Triumphant in Ayodhya, dwell. Then shall my happy eyes behold The empire by thy will controlled. Then grief and care shall leave no trace, Joy shall light up thy mother's face, And I shall see my darling reign, In moonlike glory come again. These eyes shall fondly gaze on thee So faithful to thy sire's decree, When thou the forest wild shalt quit On thine ancestral throne to sit. Yea, thou shalt turn from exile back, Nor choicest blessings ever lack, Then fill with rapture ever new My bosom and thy consort's too. To Siva and the heavenly host My worship has been paid, To mighty saint, to godlike ghost, To every wandering shade. Forth to the forest thou wilt hie, Therein to dwell so long: Let all the quarters of the sky Protect my child from wrong." Her blessings thus the queen bestowed; Then round him fondly paced, And often, while her eyes o'erflowed, Her dearest son embraced. Kausalya's honoured feet he pressed, As round her steps she bent, And radiant with her prayers that blessed, To Sita's home he went.

As Queen Kausalya, trembling much, As blighted by a goblin's touch, Still lying prostrate, half awoke To consciousness, 'twas thus she spoke: "Bear me away, Sumantra, far, Where Rama, Sita, Lakshman are. Bereft of them I have no power To linger on a single hour. Again, I pray, thy steps retrace, And me in Dandak forest place, For after them I needs must go, Or sink to Yama's realms below."

Thus Bharat spoke: each peer and lord Approved his words with one accord, And bade the weary troops repose In separate spots where'er they chose. There by the mighty stream that day, Most glorious in its vast array The prince's wearied army lay In various groups reclined. There Bharat's hours of night were spent, While every eager thought he bent On bringing home from banishment His brother, great of mind.

He ceased: and Rama, undismayed, Upon his cord those arrows laid Which pierced the stately Sal trees through, And Bali king of Vanars slew. They flew, they smote, but smote in vain Those mighty limbs that felt no pain. Then Rama sent with surest aim The dart that bore the Wind-God's name. The missile from the giant tore His huge arm and the mace it bore, Which crushed the Vanars where it fell: And dire was Kumbhakarna's yell. The giant seized a tree, and then Rushed madly at the lord of men. Another dart, Lord Indra's own, To meet his furious onset thrown, His left arm from the shoulder lopped, And like a mountain peak it dropped. Then from the bow of Rama sped Two arrows, each with crescent head; And, winged with might which naught could stay, They cut the giant's legs away. They fell, and awful was the sound As those vast columns shook the ground; And sky and sea and hill and cave In echoing roars their answer gave. Then from his side the hero drew A dart that like the tempest flew-- No deadlier shaft has ever flown Than that which Indra called his own-- Nor could the giant's mail-armed neck The fury of the missile check. Through skin and flesh and bone it smote And rent asunder head and throat. Down with the sound of thunder rolled The head adorned with rings of gold, And crushed to pieces in its fall A gate, a tower, a massive wall. Hurled to the sea the body fell: Terrific was the ocean's swell, Nor could swift fin and nimble leap Save the crushed creatures of the deep.

So with ascetic might, in ire, He smote the children and the sire. Then Visvamitra, far-renowned, Addressed the saints who gathered round: "See by my side Trisanku stand, Ikshvaku's son, of liberal hand. Most virtuous and gentle, he Seeks refuge in his woe with me. Now, holy men, with me unite, And order so his purposed rite That in the body he may rise And win a mansion in the skies."

When thus Kalindi,(248) fairest dame, With reverent supplication came, To her the holy sage replied: "Born with the poison from thy side, O happy Queen, shall spring ere long An infant fortunate and strong. Then weep no more, and check thy sighs, Sweet lady of the lotus eyes." The queen, who loved her perished lord, For meet reply, the saint adored, And, of her husband long bereaved, She bore a son by him conceived. Because her rival mixed the bane To render her conception vain, And fruit unripened to destroy, Sagar(249) she called her darling boy. To Sagar Asamanj was heir: Bright Ansuman his consort bare. Ansuman's son, Dilipa famed, Begot a son Bhagirath named. From him the great Kakutstha rose: From him came Raghu, feared by foes, Of him sprang Purushadak bold, Fierce hero of gigantic mould: Kalmashapada's name he bore, Because his feet were spotted o'er.(250) From him came Sankan, and from him Sudarsan, fair in face and limb. From beautiful Sudarsan came Prince Agnivarna, bright as flame. His son was Sighraga, for speed Unmatched; and Maru was his seed. Prasusruka was Maru's child; His son was Ambarisha styled. Nahush was Ambarisha's heir, The mighty lord of regions fair: Nahush begot Yayati: he, Nabhag of happy destiny. Son of Nabhag was Aja: his, The glorious Dasaratha is, Whose noble children boast to be Rama and Lakshman, whom we see. Thus do those kings of purest race Their lineage from Ikshvaku trace: Their hero lives the right maintained, Their lips with falsehood ne'er were stained. In Rama's and in Lakshman's name Thy daughters as their wives I claim, So shall in equal bands be tied Each peerless youth with peerless bride."

Apart a dais of crystal rose With couches spread for soft repose, Adorned with gold and gems of price Meet for the halls of Paradise. A canopy was o'er them spread Pale as the light the moon beams shed, And female figures,(816) deftly planned, The faces of the sleepers fanned, There on a splendid couch, asleep On softest skins of deer and sheep. Dark as a cloud that dims the day The monarch of the giants lay, Perfumed with sandal's precious scent And gay with golden ornament. His fiery eyes in slumber closed, In glittering robes the king reposed Like Mandar's mighty hill asleep With flowery trees that clothe his steep. Near and more near the Vanar The monarch of the fiends to view, And saw the giant stretched supine Fatigued with play and drunk with wine. While, shaking all the monstrous frame, His breath like hissing serpents' came. With gold and glittering bracelets gay His mighty arms extended lay Huge as the towering shafts that bear The flag of Indra high in air. Scars by Airavat's tusk impressed Showed red upon his shaggy breast. And on his shoulders were displayed The dints the thunder-bolt had made.(817) The spouses of the giant king Around their lord were slumbering, And, gay with sparkling earrings, shone Fair as the moon to look upon. There by her husband's side was seen Mandodari the favourite queen, The beauty of whose youthful face Beamed a soft glory through the place. The Vanar marked the dame more fair Than all the royal ladies there, And thought, "These rarest beauties speak The matchless dame I come to seek. Peerless in grace and splendour, she The Maithil queen must surely be."

This said, he ranged with warlike art Each body of the host apart. "There in the centre," Rama cried, "Be Angad's place by Nila's side. Let Rishabh of impetuous might Be lord and leader on the right, And Gandhamadan, next in rank, Be captain of the farther flank. Lakshman and I the hosts will lead, And Jambavan of ursine breed, With bold Sushen unused to fear, And Vegadarsi, guide the rear."

His hope the Vanar monarch told, And thus Vibhishan's grief consoled. Then to Sushen who at his side Expectant stood, Sugriva cried: "When these regain their strength and sense, Fly, bear them to Kishkindha hence. Here with my legions will I stay, The tyrant and his kinsmen slay, And, rescued from the giant king, The Maithil lady will I bring, Like Glory lost of old, restored By Sakra, heaven's almighty lord."

Pure, with glad cheer and joyful breast, Of those mysterious arms possessed, Rama, now passing on his way, Thus to the saint began to say: "Lord of these mighty weapons, I Can scarce be harmed by Gods on high; Now, best of saints, I long to gain The powers that can these arms restrain." Thus spoke the prince. The sage austere, True to his vows, from evil clear, Called forth the names of those great charms Whose powers restrain the deadly arms. "Receive thou True and Truly famed, And Bold and Fleet: the weapons named Warder and Progress, swift of pace, Averted-head and Drooping-face; The Seen, and that which Secret flies; The weapon of the thousand eyes; Ten-headed, and the Hundred-faced, Star-gazer and the Layer-waste: The Omen-bird, the Pure-from-spot, The pair that wake and slumber not: The Fiendish, that which shakes amain, The Strong-of-Hand, the Rich-in-Gain: The Guardian, and the Close-allied, The Gaper, Love, and Golden-side: O Raghu's son receive all these, Bright ones that wear what forms they please; Krisasva's mystic sons are they, And worthy thou their might to sway." With joy the pride of Raghu's race Received the hermit's proffered grace, Mysterious arms, to check and stay, Or smite the foeman in the fray. Then, all with heavenly forms endued, Nigh came the wondrous multitude. Celestial in their bright attire Some shone like coals of burning fire; Some were like clouds of dusky smoke; And suppliant thus they sweetly spoke: "Thy thralls, O Rama, here we stand: Command, we pray, thy faithful band" "Depart," he cried, "where each may list, But when I call you to assist, Be present to my mind with speed, And aid me in the hour of need."

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

With cloudless lustre rose the sun; The king, his morning worship done, Ordered his heralds to invite The princes and the anchorite. With honour, as the laws decree, The monarch entertained the three. Then to the youths and saintly man Videha's lord this speech began: "O blameless Saint, most welcome thou! If I may please thee tell me how. Speak, mighty lord, whom all revere, 'Tis thine to order, mine to hear."

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

There lay, by Rama's missiles rent, Full many a priceless ornament, With severed limb and broken gem, Hauberk and helm and diadem. There lay the shattered car, the steed, The elephant of noblest breed, The splintered spear, the shivered mace, Chouris and screens to shade the face. The giants saw with bitterest pain Their warriors weltering on the plain, Nor dared again his might oppose Who scourged the cities of his foes.

The giant bent his bow, and true To Rama's brow three arrows flew. Then, raging as he felt the stroke, These words in anger Rama spoke: "Heroic chief! is such the power Of fiends who rove at midnight hour? Soft as the touch of flowers I feel The gentle blows thine arrows deal. Receive in turn my shafts, and know What arrows fly from Rama's bow." Thus as he spoke his wrath grew hot, And twice seven deadly shafts he shot, Which, dire as serpent's deadly fang, Straight to the giant's bosom sprang. Four arrows more,--each shaped to deal A mortal wound with barbed steel,-- The glorious hero shot, and slew The four good steeds the car that drew. Eight other shafts flew straight and fleet, And hurled the driver from his seat, And in the dust the banner laid That proudly o'er the chariot played. Then as the fiend prepared to bound Forth from his useless car to ground, The hero smote him to the heart, And numbed his arm with deadly smart. Again the chieftain, peerless-souled, Sent forth three rapid darts, and rolled With each keen arrow, deftly sped, Low in the dust a monstrous head. Then yielding to each deadly stroke, Forth spouting streams of blood and smoke, The headless trunk bedrenched with gore Fell to the ground and moved no more. The fiends who yet were left with life, Routed and crushed in battle strife, To Khara's side, like trembling deer Scared by the hunter, fled in fear. King Khara saw with furious eye His scattered giants turn and fly; Then rallying his broken train At Raghu's son he drove amain, Like Rahu(472) when his deadly might Comes rushing on the Lord of Night.

Forth went the seven in brave attire, In glory brilliant as the fire, Impetuous chiefs with massive bows, The quellers of a host of foes: Trained from their youth in martial lore, And masters of the arms they bore: Each emulous and fiercely bold, And banners wrought with glittering gold Waved o'er their chariots, drawn at speed By coursers of the noblest breed. On through the ruins of the grove At Hanuman they fiercely drove, And from the ponderous bows they strained A shower of deadly arrows rained. Then scarce was seen the Vanar's form Enveloped in the arrowy storm. So stands half veiled the Mountains' King When rainy clouds about him cling. By nimble turn, by rapid bound He shunned the shafts that rained around, Eluding, as in air he rose, The rushing chariots of his foes. The mighty Vanar undismayed Amid his archer foemen played, As plays the frolic wind on high Mid bow-armed(876) clouds that fill the sky. He raised a mighty roar and yell That fear on all the army fell, And then, his warrior soul aglow With fury, rushed upon the foe, Some with his open hand he beat To death and trampled with his feet; Some with fierce nails he rent and slew, And others with his fists o'erthrew; Some with his legs, as on he rushed, Some with his bulky chest he crushed; While some struck senseless by his roar Dropped on the ground and breathed no more, The remnant, seized with sudden dread, Turned from the grove and wildly fled. The trampled earth was thickly strown With steed and car and flag o'erthrown, And the red blood in rivers flowed From slaughtered fiends o'er path and road.

While thus the hero mighty-souled, In wild lament his sorrow told, Faint with the load that on him lay, The hours of darkness passed away. As thus the prince, impelled by zeal For his loved brother, prompt to feel Strong yearnings for the people's weal, His words of truth outspake, King Guha grieved to see his woe, Heart-stricken, gave his tears to flow, Tormented by the common blow, Sad, as a wounded snake.

"Well have we slept, O holy lord, Honoured of thee by all adored: Now leave to journey forth we pray: These hermits urge us on our way. We haste to visit, wandering by, The ascetics' homes that round you lie, And roaming Dandak's mighty wood To view each saintly brotherhood, For thy permission now we sue, With these high saints to duty true, By penance taught each sense to tame,-- In lustre like the smokeless flame. Ere on our brows the sun can beat With fierce intolerable heat. Like some unworthy lord who wins His power by tyranny and sins, O saint, we fain would part." The three Bent humbly to the devotee. He raised the princes as they pressed His feet, and strained them to his breast; And then the chief of devotees Bespake them both in words like these: "Go with thy brother, Rama, go, Pursue thy path untouched by woe: Go with thy faithful Sita, she Still like a shadow follows thee. Roam Dandak wood observing well The pleasant homes where hermits dwell,-- Pure saints whose ordered souls adhere To penance rites and vows austere. There plenteous roots and berries grow, And noble trees their blossoms show, And gentle deer and birds of air In peaceful troops are gathered there. There see the full-blown lotus stud The bosom of the lucid flood, And watch the joyous mallard shake The reeds that fringe the pool and lake. See with delighted eye the rill Leap sparkling from her parent hill, And hear the woods that round thee lie Reecho to the peacock's cry. And as I bid thy brother, so, Sumitra's child, I bid thee go. Go forth, these varied beauties see, And then once more return to me."

"For this, Lord Indra, glorious sire, Majestic as the burning fire, Who crushes cities in his rage, Sought Sarabhanga's hermitage. Thou wast, this great design to aid, Led by the saints to seek this shade, And with thy mighty arm to kill The giants who delight in ill. Thou Dasaratha's noble son, The battle for our sake hast won, And saints in Dandak's wild who live Their days to holy tasks can give."

"Is there no way," Hanuman cried, "No passage o'er the boisterous tide? How may we lead the Vanar host In triumph to the farther coast?" "Thus," said Vibhishan, "I advise: Let Raghu's son in suppliant guise Entreat the mighty Sea to lend His succour and this cause befriend. His channels, as the wise have told, By Sagar's sons were dug of old,(932) Nor will high-thoughted Ocean scorn A prince of Sagar's lineage born."

Hanuman heard, and springing through The air like Vishnu's discus(991) flew. The sea was passed: beneath him, gay With bright-winged birds, the mountains lay, And brook and lake and lonely glen, And fertile lands with toiling men. On, on he sped: before him rose The mansion of perennial snows. There soared the glorious peaks as fair As white clouds in the summer air. Here, bursting from the leafy shade, In thunder leapt the wild cascade. He looked on many a pure retreat Dear to the Gods' and sages' feet: The spot where Brahma dwells apart, The place whence Rudra launched his dart;(992) Vishnu's high seat and Indra's home, And slopes where Yama's servants roam. There was Kuvera's bright abode; There Brahma's mystic weapon glowed. There was the noble hill whereon Those herbs with wondrous lustre shone, And, ravished by the glorious sight, Hanuman rested on the height. He, moving down the glittering peak, The healing herbs began to seek: But, when he thought to seize the prize, They hid them from his eager eyes. Then to the hill in wrath he spake: "Mine arm this day shall vengeance take, If thou wilt feel no pity, none, In this great need of Raghu's son." He ceased: his mighty arms he bent And from the trembling mountain rent His huge head with the life it bore, Snakes, elephants, and golden ore. O'er hill and plain and watery waste His rapid way again he traced. And mid the wondering Vanars laid His burthen through the air conveyed, The wondrous herbs' delightful scent To all the host new vigour lent. Free from all darts and wounds and pain The sons of Raghu lived again, And dead and dying Vanars healed Rose vigorous from the battle field.

But King Sugriva's ear was dulled, By love and wine and languor lulled, Nor did the words that Angad spake The slumberer from his trance awake. But soon as Raghu's son came nigh The startled Vanars raised a cry, And strove to win his grace, while dread Each anxious heart disquieted. They saw, and, as they gathered round, Rose from the mighty throng a sound Like torrents when they downward dash, Or thunder with the lightning's flash. The shouting of the Vanars broke Sugriva's slumber, and he woke: Still with the wine his eyes were red, His neck with flowers was garlanded. Roused at the voice of Angad came Two Vanar lords of rank and fame; One Yaksha, one Prabhava hight,-- Wise counsellors of gain and right. They came and raised their voices high, And told that Raghu's son was nigh: "Two brothers steadfast in their truth, Each glorious in the bloom of youth, Worthy of rule, have left the skies, And clothed their forms in men's disguise. One at thy gates, in warlike hands Holding his mighty weapon, stands. His message is the charioteer That brings the eager envoy near, Urged onward by his bold intent, And by the hest of Rama sent." The gathered Vanars saw and fled, And raised aloud their cry of dread. Son of Queen Tara, Angad ran To parley with the godlike man. Still fiery-eyed with rage and hate Stands Lakshman at the city gate, And trembling Vanars scarce can fly Scathed by the lightning of his eye. "Go with thy son, thy kith and kin, The favour of the prince to win, And bow thy reverent head that so His fiery wrath may cease to glow. What righteous Rama bids thee, do, And to thy plighted word be true."

He spoke, and shouted. Then anew The arrows from his bowstring flew, And pierced, well aimed with perfect art, Each limb and joint and vital part. Transfixed with shafts in every limb, Their strength relaxed, their eyes grew dim. As two tall standards side by side, With each sustaining rope untied, Fall levelled by the howling blast, So earth's majestic lords at last Beneath the arrowy tempest reeled, And prostrate pressed the battle field.

Joy reigned in heaven where every eye Had seen the Lord of Lanka die. In cars whose sheen surpassed the sun's Triumphant rode the radiant ones: And Ravan's death, by every tongue, And Rama's glorious deeds were sung. They praised the Vanars true and brave, The counsel wise Sugriva gave. The deeds of Hanuman they told, The valiant chief supremely bold, The strong ally, the faithful friend, And Sita's truth which naught could bend.

Thus spoke the saint. Each vigorous word The noble monarch's offspring heard, And, reverent hands together laid, His answer to the hermit made: "My sire and mother bade me aye Thy word, O mighty Saint, obey So will I, O most glorious, kill This Tadaka who joys in ill, For such my sire's, and such thy will. To aid with mine avenging hand The Brahmans, kine, and all the land, Obedient, heart and soul, I stand."

The mighty lord drew near, assayed To win his grace, and reverence paid; And then the sainted king addressed The Brahman saint with this request: "Bought with a hundred thousand kine, Give me, O Sage, a son of thine To be a victim in the rite, And thanks the favour shall requite. For I have roamed all countries round, Nor sacrificial victim found. Then, gentle Hermit, deign to spare One child amid the number there."

Then to her breast that youth she drew, Whose sweet fraternal love she knew, And there in strict embraces held The hero, as her tears outwelled. And Bharat's heart grew sick and faint With grief and oft-renewed complaint, And all his senses were distraught By the great woe that in him wrought. Thus he lay and still bewailed With sighs and loud lament Till all his strength and reason failed, The hours of night were spent.

Then Rama, having slain in fight Viradha of terrific might, With gentle words his spouse consoled, And clasped her in his loving hold. Then to his brother nobly brave The valiant prince his counsel gave: "Wild are these woods around us spread; And hard and rough the ground to tread: We, O my brother, ne'er have viewed So dark and drear a solitude: To Sarabhanga let us haste, Whom wealth of holy works has graced."

To that bright sage, of penance stern, The high-souled Rama spake in turn, As Vasava(422) who rules the skies To Brahma's gracious speech replies: "I of myself those worlds will win, O mighty hermit pure from sin: But now, O saint, I pray thee tell Where I within this wood may dwell: For I by Sarabhanga old, The son of Gautama, was told That thou in every lore art wise, And seest all with loving eyes."

The hermit ceased: the princely two With seemly honours bade adieu: With reverential awe each youth Bowed to the saint whose word was truth, And then, dismissed with Sita, they To Panchavati took their way. Thus when each royal prince had grasped His warrior's mighty bow, and clasped His quiver to his side, With watchful eyes along the road The glorious saint Agastya showed, Dauntless in fight the brothers strode, And Sita with them hied.

Then Bali's noble son replied: "Needs must I go, whate'er betide, For, if no chief this exploit dare, What waits us all save blank despair,-- Upon the ground again to lie In hopeless misery, fast, and die? For not a hope of life I see If we neglect our king's decree." Then spoke the aged chief again: "Nay our attempt shall not be vain, For to the task will I incite A chieftain of sufficient might."

Then Rama's eyes with fury blazed As Indra's heavenly spear he raised. Loud rang the bells: the glistering head Bright flashes through the region shed. Down came the spear in swift descent: The giant's lance was crushed and bent. Then Ravan's horses brave and fleet Fell dead beneath his arrowy sleet. Fierce on his foeman Rama pressed, And gored with shafts his mighty breast. And spouting streams of crimson dyed The weary giant's limbs and side.

He spoke, and raised the cord whereon A pointed arrow flashed and shone, Then, wild with anger, from his bow, He launched the weapon on the foe. Seven times the fatal cord he drew, And forth seven rapid arrows flew, Shafts winged with gold that left the wind And e'en Suparna's(406) self behind. Full on the giant's breast they smote, And purpled like the peacock's throat, Passed through his mighty bulk and came To earth again like flakes of flame. The fiend the Maithil dame unclasped; In his fierce hand his spear he grasped, And wild with rage, pierced through and through, At Rama and his brother flew. So loud the roar which chilled with fear, So massy was the monster's spear, He seemed, like Indra's flagstaff, dread As the dark God who rules the dead. On huge Viradha fierce as He(407) Who smites, and worlds have ceased to be, The princely brothers poured amain Their fiery flood of arrowy rain. Unmoved he stood, and opening wide His dire mouth laughed unterrified, And ever as the monster gaped Those arrows from his jaws escaped. Preserving still his life unharmed, By Brahma's saving promise charmed, His mighty spear aloft in air He raised, and rushed upon the pair. From Rama's bow two arrows flew And cleft that massive spear in two, Dire as the flaming levin sent From out the cloudy firmament. Cut by the shafts he guided well To earth the giant's weapon fell: As when from Meru's summit, riven By fiery bolts, a rock is driven. Then swift his sword each warrior drew, Like a dread serpent black of hue, And gathering fury for the blow Rushed fiercely on the giant foe. Around each prince an arm he cast, And held the dauntless heroes fast: Then, though his gashes gaped and bled, Bearing the twain he turned and fled.

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

The monster ceased: the princely pair Heard great Kabandha's eager prayer. Within a mountain cave they sped, Where kindled fire with care they fed. Then Lakshman in his mighty hands Brought ample store of lighted brands, And to a pile of logs applied The flame that ran from side to side. The spreading glow with gentle force Consumed Kabandha's mighty corse, Till the unresting flames had drunk The marrow of the monstrous trunk, As balls of butter melt away Amid the fires that o'er them play. Then from the pyre, like flame that glows Undimmed by cloudy smoke, he rose, In garments pure of spot or speck, A heavenly wreath about his neck. Resplendent in his bright attire He sprang exultant from the pyre. While from neck, arm, and foot was sent The flash of gold and ornament. High on a chariot, bright of hue, Which swans of fairest pinion drew, He filled each region of the air With splendid glow reflected there. Then in the sky he stayed his car And called to Rama from afar: "Hear, chieftain, while my lips explain The means to win thy spouse again. Six plans, O prince, the wise pursue To reach the aims we hold in view.(519) When evils ripening sorely press They load the wretch with new distress, So thou and Lakshman, tried by woe, Have felt at last a fiercer blow, And plunged in bitterest grief to-day Lament thy consort torn away. There is no course but this: attend; Make, best of friends, that chief thy friend. Unless his prospering help thou gain Thy plans and hopes must all be vain. O Rama, hear my words, and seek, Sugriva, for of him I speak. His brother Bali, Indra's son, Expelled him when the fight was won. With four great chieftains, faithful still, He dwells on Rishyamuka's hill.

Then when they saw their leader slain Great anguish seized the Vanar train, Weeping their mighty chief, as when In pastures near a lion's den The cows by sudden fear are stirred, Slain the bold bull who led the herd. And hapless Tara sank below The whelming waters of her woe, Looked upon Bali's face and fell Beside him whom she loved go well, Like a young creeper clinging round A tall tree prostrate on the ground.

"Look, look ye Vanars, and beware: That giant chief sublime in air With other four in bright array Comes armed to conquer and to slay." Soon as his warning speech they heard, The Vanar chieftains undeterred Seized fragments of the rock and trees, And made reply in words like these: "We wait thy word: the order give, And these thy foes shall cease to live. Command us, mighty King, and all Lifeless upon the earth shall fall."

"Couldst thou, the Lord of all, couldst thou, Creator of the worlds, allow Thy queen, thy spouse to brave the fire And give her body to the pyre? Dost thou not yet, supremely wise, Thy heavenly nature recognize?" They ceased: and Rama thus began: "I deem myself a mortal man. Of old Ikshvaku's line, I spring From Dasaratha Kosal's king." He ceased: and Brahma's self replied: "O cast the idle thought aside. Thou art the Lord Narayan, thou The God to whom all creatures bow. Thou art the saviour God who wore Of old the semblance of a boar; Thou he whose discus overthrows All present, past and future foes; Thou Brahma, That whose days extend Without beginning, growth or end; The God, who, bears the bow of horn, Whom four majestic arms adorn; Thou art the God who rules the sense And sways with gentle influence; Thou all-pervading Vishnu Lord Who wears the ever-conquering sword; Thou art the Guide who leads aright, Thou Krishna of unequalled might. Thy hand, O Lord, the hills and plains, And earth with all her life sustains; Thou wilt appear in serpent form When sinks the earth in fire and storm. Queen Sita of the lovely brows Is Lakshmi thy celestial spouse. To free the worlds from Ravan thou Wouldst take the form thou wearest now. Rejoice: the mighty task is done: Rejoice, thou great and glorious one. The tyrant, slain, thy labours end: Triumphant now to heaven ascend. High bliss awaits the devotee Who clings in loving faith to thee, Who celebrates with solemn praise The Lord of ne'er beginning days. On earth below, in heaven above Great joy shall crown his faith and love. And he who loves the tale divine Which tells each glorious deed of thine Through life's fair course shall never know The fierce assault of pain and woe."(1020)

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

When, of the thousand years ordained, Ten only unfulfilled remained, Thus to her son, the Thousand-eyed, The Goddess in her triumph cried: "Best of the mighty! there remain But ten short years of toil and pain; These years of penance soon will flee, And a new brother thou shalt see. Him for thy sake I'll nobly breed, And lust of war his soul shall feed; Then free from care and sorrow thou Shalt see the worlds before him bow."(212)

Then Visvamitra, when the Blest Had sought their homes of heavenly rest, Thus, mighty Prince, his counsel laid Before the dwellers of the shade: "The southern land where now we are Offers this check our rites to bar:(240) To other regions let us speed, And ply our tasks from trouble freed. Now turn we to the distant west. To Pushkar's(241) wood where hermits rest, And there to rites austere apply, For not a grove with that can vie."

Remember, Queen, undying shame Will through the world pursue thy name, If Rama leave the king his sire, And, banished, to the wood retire. Come, from thy breast this fever fling: Of his own realm be Rama king. None in this city e'er can dwell To tend and love thee half so well. When Rama sits in royal place, True to the custom of his race Our monarch of the mighty bow A hermit to the woods will go."(310)

When Bharat's speech Satrughna heard He calmed the rage his breast that stirred, Releasing from her dire constraint The trembling wretch with terror faint. Then to Kaikeyi's feet she crept, And prostrate in her misery wept. Kaikeyi on the hump-back gazed, And saw her weep and gasp. Still quivering, with her senses dazed, From fierce Satrughna's grasp. With gentle words of pity she Assuaged her wild despair, E'en as a tender hand might free A curlew from the snare.

All they who knew the joiner's art, Or distant ground in every part; Each busied in his several trade, To work machines or ply the spade; Deft workmen skilled to frame the wheel, Or with the ponderous engine deal; Guides of the way, and craftsmen skilled, To sink the well, make bricks, and build; And those whose hands the tree could hew, And work with slips of cut bamboo, Went forward, and to guide them, they Whose eyes before had seen the way. Then onward in triumphant mood Went all the mighty multitude. Like the great sea whose waves leap high When the full moon is in the sky. Then, in his proper duty skilled, Each joined him to his several guild, And onward in advance they went With every tool and implement. Where bush and tangled creeper lay With trenchant steel they made the way; They felled each stump, removed each stone, And many a tree was overthrown. In other spots, on desert lands, Tall trees were reared by busy hands. Where'er the line of road they took, They plied the hatchet, axe, and hook. Others, with all their strength applied, Cast vigorous plants and shrubs aside, In shelving valleys rooted deep, And levelled every dale and steep. Each pit and hole that stopped the way They filled with stones, and mud, and clay, And all the ground that rose and fell With busy care was levelled well. They bridged ravines with ceaseless toil, And pounded fine the flinty soil. Now here, now there, to right and left, A passage through the ground they cleft, And soon the rushing flood was led Abundant through the new-cut bed, Which by the running stream supplied With ocean's boundless waters vied. In dry and thirsty spots they sank Full many a well and ample tank, And altars round about them placed To deck the station in the waste.

Thus spake the hermit self-restrained, With proper tone by rules ordained, On deepest meditation bent, In holy might preeminent. Then as with hands in reverence raised Absorbed in thought he eastward gazed, The deities he thus addressed Came each in semblance manifest. Delicious gales that cooled the frame From Malaya and Dardar came, That kissed those scented hills and threw Auspicious fragrance where they blew. Then falling fast in sweetest showers Came from the sky immortal flowers, And all the airy region round With heavenly drums was made to sound. Then breathed a soft celestial breeze, Then danced the bright Apsarases, The minstrels and the Gods advanced, And warbling lutes the soul entranced. The earth and sky that music filled, And through each ear it softly thrilled, As from the heavenly quills it fell With time and tune attempered well. Soon as the minstrels ceased to play And airs celestial died away, The troops of Bharat saw amazed What Visvakarma's art had raised. On every side, five leagues around, All smooth and level lay the ground, With fresh green grass that charmed the sight Like sapphires blent with lazulite. There the Wood-apple hung its load, The Mango and the Citron glowed, The Bel and scented Jak were there, And Apela with fruitage fair. There, brought from Northern Kuru, stood Rich in delights, the glorious wood, And many a stream was seen to glide With flowering trees along its side. There mansions rose with four wide halls, And elephants and chargers' stalls, And many a house of royal state, Triumphal arc and bannered gate. With noble doorways, sought the sky, Like a pale cloud, a palace high, Which far and wide rare fragrance shed, With wreaths of white engarlanded. Square was its shape, its halls were wide, With many a seat and couch supplied, Drink of all kinds, and every meat Such as celestial Gods might eat.

Thus Bharat spoke: and hero bands Of men with weapons in their hands Entered the tangled forest: then A spire of smoke appeared in ken. Soon as they saw the rising smoke To Bharat they returned and spoke: "No fire where men are not: 'tis clear That Raghu's sons are dwelling here. Or if not here those heroes dwell Whose mighty arms their foeman quell, Still other hermits here must be Like Rama, true and good as he."

Then to Sushen Sugriva bent, And thus addressed him reverent: "Two hundred thousand of our best With thee, my lord, shall seek the west. Explore Surashtra's(714)] distant plain, Explore Vahlika's(715) wild domain, And all the pleasant brooks that flee Through mountains to the western sea. Search clustering groves on mountain heights, And woods the home of anchorites. Search where the breezy hills are high, Search where the desert regions lie. Search all the western land beset With woody mountains like a net. The country's farthest limit reach, And stand upon the ocean beach. There wander through the groves of palm Where the soft air is full of balm. Through grassy dell and dark ravine Seek Ravan and the Maithil queen. Go visit Somagiri's(716) steep Where Sindhu(717) mingles with the deep. There lions, borne on swift wings, roam The levels of their mountain home, And elephants and monsters bear, Caught from the ocean, to their lair. You Vanars, changing forms at will, With rapid search must scour the hill, And his sky-kissing peak of gold Where loveliest trees their blooms unfold. There golden-peaked, ablaze with light, Uprises Pariyatra's(718) height Where wild Gandharvas, fierce and fell, In bands of countless myriads dwell. Pluck ye no fruit within the wood; Beware the impious neighbourhood, Where, very mighty, strong, and hard To overcome, the fruit they guard. Yet search for Janak's daughter still, For Vanars there need fear no ill. Near, bright as turkis, Vajra(719) named, There stands a hill of diamond framed. Soaring a hundred leagues in pride, With trees and creepers glorified. Search there each cave and dark abyss By waterfall and precipice. Far in that sea the wild waves beat On Chakravan's(720) firm-rooted feet. Where the great discus,(721) thousand rayed, By Visvakarma's(722) art was made. When Panchajan(723) the fiend was slain. And Hayagriva,(724) fierce in vain, Thence taking shell and discus went Lord Vishnu, God preeminent. On!