The Ramayana Part 93

"Now be it well with Brahmans, now Well with the worlds and every cow!

Let Rama in the deadly fray The fiends who walk in darkness slay, As He who bears the discus(464) slew The chieftains of the Asur crew."

Then each with anxious glances viewed His fellow and his speech renewed: "There twice seven thousand giants stand With impious heart and cruel hand: Here Rama stands, by virtue known: How can the hero fight alone?"

Thus royal sage and Brahman saint, Spirit, and Virtue free from taint, And all the G.o.ds of heaven who rode On golden cars, their longing showed.

Their hearts with doubt and terror rent, They saw the giants' armament, And Rama clothed in warrior might, Forth standing in the front of fight.

Lord of the arm no toil might tire, He stood majestic in his ire, Matchless in form as Rudra(465) when His wrath is fierce on G.o.ds or men.

While G.o.ds and saints in close array Held converse of the coming fray, The army of the fiends drew near With sight and sound that counselled fear.

Long, loud and deep their war-cry pealed, As on they rushed with flag and shield, Each, of his proper valour proud, Urging to fight the demon crowd.

His ponderous bow each warrior tried, And swelled his bulk with martial pride.

'Mid shout and roar and trampling feet, And thunder of the drums they beat, Loud and more loud the tumult went Throughout the forest's vast extent, And all the life that moved within The woodland trembled at the din.

In eager haste all fled to find Some tranquil spot, nor looked behind.

With every arm of war supplied, On-rushing wildly like the tide Of some deep sea, the giant host Approached where Rama kept his post.

Then he, in battle skilled and tried, Bent his keen eye on every side, And viewed the host of Khara face To face before his dwelling-place.

He drew his arrows forth, and reared And strained that bow which foemen feared, And yielded to the vengeful sway Of fierce desire that host to slay.

Terrific as the ruinous fire That ends the worlds, he glowed in ire, And his tremendous form dismayed The G.o.ds who roam the forest shade.

For in the furious wrath that glowed Within his soul the hero showed Like Siva when his angry might Stayed Daksha's sacrificial rite.(466) Like some great cloud at dawn of day When first the sun upsprings, And o'er the gloomy ma.s.s each ray A golden radiance flings: Thus showed the children of the night, Whose mail and chariots threw, With gleam of bows and armlets bright, Flashes of flamy hue.

Canto XXV. The Battle.

When Khara with the hosts he led Drew near to Rama's leafy shed, He saw that queller of the foe Stand ready with his ordered bow.

He saw, and burning at the view His clanging bow he raised and drew, And bade his driver urge apace His car to meet him face to face.

Obedient to his master's hest His eager steeds the driver pressed On to the spot where, none to aid, The strong-armed chief his weapon swayed.

Soon as the children of the night Saw Khara rushing to the fight, His lords with loud unearthly cry Followed their chief and gathered nigh.

As in his car the leader rode With all his lords around, he showed Like the red planet fiery Mars Surrounded by the lesser stars.

Then with a horrid yell that rent The air, the giant chieftain sent A thousand darts in rapid shower On Rama matchless in his power.

The rovers of the night, impelled By fiery rage which naught withheld, Upon the unconquered prince, who strained His fearful bow, their arrows rained.

With sword and club, with mace and pike, With spear and axe to pierce and strike, Those furious fiends on every side The unconquerable hero plied.

The giant legions huge and strong, Like clouds the tempest drives along, Rushed upon Rama with the speed Of whirling car, and mounted steed, And hill-like elephant, to slay The matchless prince in battle fray.

Then upon Rama thick and fast The rain of mortal steel they cast, As labouring clouds their torrents shed Upon the mountain-monarch's(467) head.

As near and nearer round him drew The warriors of the giant crew, He showed like Siva girt by all His spirits when night's shadows fall.

As the great deep receives each rill And river rushing from the hill, He bore that flood of darts, and broke With well-aimed shaft each murderous stroke.

By stress of arrowy storm a.s.sailed, And wounded sore, he never failed, Like some high mountain which defies The red bolts flashing from the skies.

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 G.o.d, 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 pa.s.sage, 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 pa.s.sage 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.

With sundered bow and shattered shield Headless they sank upon the field, As the tall trees, that felt the blast Of Garu?'s wing, to earth were cast.

The giants left unslaughtered there Where filled with terror and despair, And to their leader Khara fled Faint, wounded, and discomfited.

These fiery Dusha? strove to cheer, And poised his bow to calm their fear; Then fierce as He who rules the dead, When wroth, on angered Rama sped.

By Dusha? cheered, the demons cast Their dread aside and rallied fast With Sals, rocks, palm-trees in their hands With nooses, maces, pikes, and brands, Again upon the G.o.dlike man The mighty fiends infuriate ran, These casting rocks like hail, and these A whelming shower of leafy trees.

Wild, wondrous fight, the eye to scare, And raise on end each shuddering hair, As with the fiends who loved to rove By night heroic Rama strove!

The giants in their fury plied Rama with darts on every side.

Then, by the gathering demons pressed From north and south and east and west, By showers of deadly darts a.s.sailed From every quarter fiercely hailed, Girt by the foes who swarmed around, He raised a mighty shout whose sound Struck terror. On the giant crew His great Gandharva(468) arrow flew.

A thousand mortal shafts were rained From the orbed bow the hero strained, Till east and west and south and north Were filled with arrows volleyed forth.

They heard the fearful shout: they saw His mighty hand the bowstring draw, Yet could no wounded giant's eye See the swift storm of arrows fly.

Still firm the warrior stood and cast His deadly missiles thick and fast.

Dark grew the air with arrowy hail Which hid the sun as with a veil.

Fiends wounded, falling, fallen, slain, All in a moment, spread the plain, And thousands scarce alive were left Mangled, and gashed, and torn, and cleft.

Dire was the sight, the plain o'erspread With trophies of the mangled dead.

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 n.o.blest 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.

Canto XXVI. Dushan's Death.

When Dusha? saw his giant band Slaughtered by Rama's conquering hand, He called five thousand fiends, and gave His orders. Bravest of the brave, Invincible, of furious might, Ne'er had they turned their backs in flight.

They, as their leader bade them seize Spears, swords, and clubs, and rocks, and trees, Poured on the dauntless prince again A ceaseless shower of deadly rain.

The virtuous Rama, undismayed, Their missiles with his arrows stayed, And weakened, ere it fell, the shock Of that dire hail of tree and rock, And like a bull with eyelids closed, The pelting of the storm opposed.

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.

Dusha?, 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 Dusha?'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 G.o.ds it crushed and ground.

Its iron spikes yet bore the stains Of mangled foemen's blood and brains.

Its heavy ma.s.s of jagged steel Was like a thunderbolt to feel.

It shattered, as on foes it fell, The city where the senses dwell.(469) Fierce Dusha? 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, Sh.o.r.e 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! n.o.bly done!

Well hast thou fought, Kakutstha's son!"

But the great three, the host who led, Enraged to see their chieftain dead, As though Death's toils were round them cast, Rushed upon Rama fierce and fast, Mahakapala seized, to strike His foeman down, a ponderous pike: Sthulaksha charged with spear to fling, Pramathi with his axe to swing.

When Rama saw, with keen darts he Received the onset of the three, As calm as though he hailed a guest In each, who came for shade and rest.