The Ramayana Part 154

Thy woman's heart would sink with fear Before the ocean sh.o.r.e were near.

And for thy dread lest limb of thine Should for a while be touched by mine, The modest fear is worthy one Whose cherished lord is Raghu's son.

Yet when I sought to bear thee hence I spoke the words of innocence, Impelled to set the captive free By friendship for thy lord and thee.

But if with me thou wilt not try The pa.s.sage of the windy sky, Give me a gem that I may show, Some token which thy lord may know."

Again the Maithil lady spoke, While tears and sobs her utterance broke: "The surest of all signs is this, To tell the tale of vanished bliss.

Thus in my name to Rama speak: "Remember Chitraku?a's peak And the green margin of the rill(867) That flows beside that pleasant hill, Where thou and I together strayed Delighting in the tangled shade.

There on the gra.s.s I sat with thee And laid my head upon thy knee.

There came a greedy crow and pecked The meat I waited to protect And, heedless of the clods I threw, About my head in circles flew, Until by darling hunger pressed He boldly pecked me on the breast.

I ran to thee in rage and grief And prayed for vengeance on the thief.

Then Rama(868) from his slumber rose And smiled with pity at my woes.

Upon my bleeding breast he saw The scratches made by beak and claw.

He laid an arrow on his bow, And launched it at the shameless crow.

That shaft, with magic power endued, The bird, where'er he flew, pursued, Till back to Raghu's son he fled And bent at Rama's feet his head.(869) Couldst thou for me with anger stirred Launch that dire shaft upon a bird, And yet canst pardon him who stole The darling of thy heart and soul?

Rise up, O bravest of the brave, And come in all thy might to save.

Come with the thunders of thy bow, And smite to earth the Rakshas foe."

She ceased; and from her glorious hair She took a gem that sparkled there A token which her husband's eyes With eager love would recognize.

His head the Vanar envoy bent In low obeisance reverent.

And on his finger bound the gem She loosened from her diadem.

[I omit two Cantos of dialogue. Sita tells Hanuman again to convey her message to Rama and bid him hasten to rescue her. Hanuman replies as before that there is no one on earth equal to Rama, who will soon come and destroy Rava?. There is not a new idea in the two Cantos: all is reiteration.]

Canto XLI. The Ruin Of The Grove.

Dismissed with every honour due The Vanar from the spot withdrew.

Then joyous thought the Wind-G.o.d's son: "The mighty task is wellnigh done.

The three expedients I must leave; The fourth alone can I achieve.(870) These dwellers in the giants' isle No arts of mine can reconcile.

I cannot bribe: I cannot sow Dissension mid the Rakshas foe.

Arts, gifts, address, these fiends despise; But force shall yet their king chastise.

Perchance he may relent when all The bravest of his chieftains fall.

This lovely grove will I destroy, The cruel Rava?'s pride and joy.

The garden where he takes his ease Mid climbing plants and flowery trees That lift their proud tops to the skies, Dear to the tyrant as his eyes.

Then will he rouse in wrath, and lead His legions with the car and steed And elephants in long array, And seek me thirsty for the fray.

The Rakshas legions will I meet, And all his bravest host defeat; Then, glorious from the b.l.o.o.d.y plain, Turn to my lord the king again."

Then every lovely tree that bore Fair blossoms, from the soil he tore, Till each green bough that lent its shade To singing birds on earth was laid.

The wilderness he left a waste, The fountains shattered and defaced: O'erthrew and levelled with the ground Each shady seat and pleasure-mound.

Each arbour clad with climbing bloom, Each grotto, cell, and picture room, Each lawn by beast and bird enjoyed, Each walk and terrace was destroyed.

And all the place that was so fair Was left a ruin wild and bare, As if the fury of the blast Or raging fire had o'er it pa.s.sed.

Canto XLII. The Giants Roused.

The cries of startled birds, the sound Of tall trees crashing to the ground, Struck with amaze each giant's ear, And filled the isle with sudden fear.

Then, wakened by the crash and cries, The fierce shefiends unclosed their eyes, And saw the Vanar where he stood Amid the devastated wood.

The more to scare them with the view To size immense the Vanar grew; And straight the Rakshas warders cried Janak's daughter terrified "Whose envoy, whence, and who is he, Why has he come to talk with thee?

Speak, lady of the lovely eyes, And let not fear thy joy disguise."

Then thus replied the Maithil dame Of n.o.ble soul and perfect frame.

"Can I discern, with scanty skill, These fiends who change their forms at will?

'Tis yours to say: your kin you meet; A serpent knows a serpent's feet.

I weet not who he is: the sight Has filled my spirit with affright."

Some pressed round Sita in a ring; Some bore the story to their king: "A mighty creature of our race, In monkey form, has reached the place.

He came within the grove," they cried, "He stood and talked by Sita's side, He comes from Indra's court to her, Or is Kuvera's messenger; Or Rama sent the spy to seek His consort, and her wrongs to wreak.

His crushing arm, his trampling feet Have marred and spoiled that dear retreat, And all the pleasant place which thou So lovest is a ruin now.

The tree where Sita sat alone Is spared where all are overthrown.

Perchance he saved the dame from harm: Perchance the toil had numbed his arm."

Then flashed the giant's eye with fire Like that which lights the funeral pyre.

He bade his bravest Kinkars(871) speed And to his feet the spoiler lead.

Forth from the palace, at his hest, Twice forty thousand warriors pressed.

Burning for battle, strong and fierce, With clubs to crush and swords to pierce, They saw Hanuman near a porch, And, thick as moths around a torch, Rushed on the foe with wild attacks Of mace and club and battle-axe.

As round him pressed the Rakshas crowd, The wondrous monkey roared aloud, That birds fell headlong from the sky: Then spake he with a mighty cry: "Long life to Dasaratha's heir, And Lakshma?, ever-glorious pair!

Long life to him who rules our race, Preserved by n.o.blest Rama's grace!

I am the slave of Kosal's king,(872) Whose wondrous deeds the minstrels sing.

Hanuman I, the Wind-G.o.d's seed: Beneath this arm the foemen bleed.

I fear not, unapproached in might, A thousand Rava?'s ranged for fight, Although in furious hands they rear The hill and tree for sword and spear, I will, before the giants' eyes, Their city and their king chastise; And, having communed with the dame, Depart in triumph as I came."

At that terrific roar and yell The heart of every giant fell.

But still their king's command they feared And pressed around with arms upreared.

Beside the porch a club was laid: The Vanar caught it up, and swayed The weapon round his head, and slew The foremost of the Rakshas crew.

Thus Indra vanquished, thousand-eyed, The Daityas who the G.o.ds defied.

Then on the porch Hanuman sprang, And loud his shout of triumph rang.

The giants looked upon the dead, And turning to their monarch fled.

And Rava? with his spirit wrought To frenzy by the tale they brought, Urged to the fight Prahasta's son, Of all his chiefs the mightiest one.

Canto XLIII. The Ruin Of The Temple.

The Wind-G.o.d's son a temple(873) scaled Which, by his fury una.s.sailed, High as the hill of Meru, stood Amid the ruins of the wood; And in his fury thundered out Again his haughty battle-shout: "I am the slave of Kosal's King Whose wondrous deeds the minstrels sing."

Forth hurried, by that shout alarmed, The warders of the temple armed With every weapon haste supplied, And closed him in on every side, With bands that strove to pierce and strike With shaft and axe and club and pike.

Then from its base the Vanar tore A pillar with the weight it bore.

Against the wall the ma.s.s he dashed, And forth the flames in answer flashed, That wildly ran o'er roofs and wall In hungry rage consuming all.

He whirled the pillar round his head And struck a hundred giants dead.

Then high upheld on air he rose And called in thunder to his foes: "A thousand Vanar chiefs like me Roam at their will o'er land and sea, Terrific might we all possess: Our stormy speed is limitless.

And all, unconquered in the fray, Our king Sugriva's word obey.

Backed by his bravest myriads, he Our warrior lord will cross the sea.

Then Lanka's lofty towers, and all Your hosts and Rava?'s self shall fall.