The Ramayana Part 181

Pierced to the soul by sorrow's sting Thus wailed the evil-hearted king.

Then Trisiras stood forth and cried: "Yea, father, he has fought and died, Our bravest: and the loss is sore: But rouse thee, and lament no more.

Hast thou not still thy coat of mail, Thy bow and shafts which never fail?

A thousand a.s.ses draw thy car Which roars like thunder heard afar.

Thy valour and thy warrior skill, Thy G.o.d-given strength, are left thee still.

Unarmed, thy matchless might subdued The G.o.ds and Danav mult.i.tude.

Armed with thy glorious weapons, how Shall Raghu's son oppose thee now?

Or, sire, within thy palace stay; And I myself will sweep away Thy foes, like Garu? when he makes A banquet of the writhing snakes.

Soon Raghu's son shall press the plain, As Narak(984) fell by Vish?u slain, Or Sambar(985) in rebellious pride Who met the King of G.o.ds(986) and died."

The monarch heard: his courage grew, And life and spirit came anew.

Devantak and Narantak heard, And their fierce souls with joy were stirred; And Atikaya(987) burned to fight, And heard the summons with delight; While from the rest loud rang the cry, "I too will fight," "and I," "and I."

The joyous king his sons embraced, With gold and chains and jewels graced, And sent them forth with stirring speech Of benison and praise to each.

Forth from the gate the princes sped And ranged for war the troops they led.

The Vanar legions charged anew, And trees and rocks for missiles flew.

They saw Narantak's mighty form Borne on a steed that mocked the storm.

To check his charge in vain they strove: Straight through their host his way he clove, As springs a dolphin through the tide: And countless Vanars fell and died, And mangled limbs and corpses lay To mark the chief's ensanguined way, Sugriva saw them fall or fly When fierce Narantak's steed was nigh, And marked the giant where he sped O'er heaps of dying or of dead.

He bade the royal Angad face That bravest chief of giant race.

As springs the sun from clouds dispersed, So Angad from the Vanars burst.

No weapon for the fight he bore Save nails and teeth, and sought no more.

"Leave, giant chieftain," thus he spoke, "Leave foes unworthy of thy stroke, And bend against a n.o.bler heart The terrors of thy deadly dart."

Narantak heard the words he spake: Fast breathing, like an angry snake, With b.l.o.o.d.y teeth his lips he pressed And hurled his dart at Angad's breast.

True was the aim and fierce the stroke, Yet on his breast the missile broke.

Then Angad at the giant flew, And with a blow his courser slew: The fierce hand crushed through flesh and bone, And steed and rider fell o'erthrown.

Narantak's eyes with fury blazed: His heavy hand on high he raised And struck in savage wrath the head Of Bali's son, who reeled and bled, Fainted a moment and no more: Then stronger, fiercer than before Smote with that fist which naught could stay, And crushed to death the giant lay.

Canto LXX. The Death Of Trisiras.

Then raged the Rakshas chiefs, and all Burned to avenge Narantak's fall.

Devantak raised his club on high And rushed at Angad with a cry.

Behind came Trisiras, and near Mahodar charged with levelled spear.

There Angad stood to fight with three: High o'er his head he waved a tree, And at Devantak, swift and true As Indra's flaming bolt, it flew.

But, cut by giant shafts in twain, With minished force it flew in vain.

A shower of trees and blocks of stone From Angad's hand was fiercely thrown; But well his club Devantak plied And turned each rock and tree aside.

Nor yet, by three such foes a.s.sailed, The heart of Angad sank or quailed.

He slew the mighty beast that bore Mahodar: from his head he tore A bleeding tusk, and blow on blow Fell fiercely on his Rakshas foe.

The giant reeled, but strength regained, And furious strokes on Angad rained, Who, wounded by the storm of blows, Sank on his knees, but swiftly rose.

Then Trisiras, as up he sprang, Drew his great bow with awful clang, And fixed three arrows from his sheaf Full in the forehead of the chief.

Hanuman saw, nor long delayed To speed with Nila to his aid, Who at the three-faced giant sent A peak from Lanka's mountain rent.

But Trisiras with certain aim Shot rapid arrows as it came: And shivered by their force it broke And fell to earth with flash and smoke.

Then as the Wind-G.o.d's son came nigh, Devantak reared his mace on high.

Hanuman smote him on the head And stretched the monstrous giant dead.

Fierce Trisiras with fury strained His bow, and showers of arrows rained That smote on Nila's side and chest: He sank a moment, sore distressed; But quickly gathered strength to seize A mountain with its crown of trees.

Crushed by the hill, distained with gore, Mahodar fell to rise no more.

Then Trisiras raised high his spear Which chilled the trembling foe with fear And, like a flashing meteor through The air at Hanuman it flew.

The Vanar shunned the threatened stroke, And with strong hands the weapon broke.

The giant drew his glittering blade: Dire was the wound the weapon made Deep in the Vanar's ample chest, Who, for a moment sore oppressed, Raised his broad hand, regaining might, And struck the rover of the night.

Fierce was the blow: with one wild yell Low on the earth the monster fell.

Hanuman seized his fallen sword Which served no more its senseless lord, And from the monster triple-necked Smote his huge heads with crowns bedecked.

Then Mahaparsva burned with ire; Fierce flashed his eyes with vengeful fire.

A moment on the dead he gazed, Then his black mace aloft was raised, And down the ma.s.s of iron came That struck and shook the Vanar's frame.

Hanuman's chest was wellnigh crushed, And from his mouth red torrents gushed: Yet served one instant to restore His spirit: from the foe he tore His awful mace, and smote, and laid The giant in the dust dismayed.

Crushed were his jaws and teeth and eyes: Breathless and still he lay as lies A summit from a mountain rent By him who rules the firmament.

Canto LXXI. Atikaya's Death.

But Atikaya's wrath grew high To see his n.o.blest 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 l.u.s.t of battle fired, Turned to Vibhisha? 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?"

Thus Rama spake. Vibhisha? eyed The giants' chief, and thus replied: "This Rama, this is Rava?'s son: High fame his youthful might has won.

He, best of warriors, bows his ear The wisdom of the wise to hear.

Supreme is he mid those who know The mastery of sword and bow.

Unrivalled in the bold attack On elephant's or courser's back, He knows, beside, each subtler art, To win the foe, to bribe, or part.

On him the giant hosts rely, And fear no ill when he is nigh.

This peerless chieftain bears the name Of Atikaya huge of frame, Whom Dhanyamalini of yore To Rava? lord of Lanka bore."

Roused by his bow-string's awful clang, To meet their foes the Vanars sprang.

Armed with tall trees from Lanka's wood, And rocks and mountain peaks, they stood.

The giant's arrows, gold-bedecked, The storm of hurtling missiles checked; And ever on his foemen poured Fierce tempest from his clanging cord; Nor could the Vanar chiefs sustain His shafts' intolerable rain.

They fled: the victor gained the place Where stood the lord of Raghu's race, And cried with voice of thunder: "Lo, Borne on my car, with shaft and bow, I, champion of the giants, scorn To fight with weaklings humbly born.

Come forth your bravest, if he dare, And fight with one who will not spare."

Forth sprang Sumitra's n.o.ble child,(989) And strained his ready bow, and smiled; And giants trembled as the clang Through heaven and earth reechoing rang.

The giant to his string applied A pointed shaft, and proudly cried; "Turn, turn, Sumitra's son and fly, For terrible as Death am I.

Fly, nor that youthful form oppose, Untrained in war, to warriors' blows.

What! wilt thou waste thy childish breath And wake the dormant fire of death?