The Ramayana Part 97

There on a throne of royal state Exalted sat the potentate, Begirt with counsellor and peer, Like Indra with the Storm G.o.ds near.

Bright as the sun's full splendour shone The glorious throne he sat upon, As when the blazing fire is red Upon a golden altar fed.

Wide gaped his mouth at every breath, Tremendous as the jaws of Death.

With him high saints of lofty thought, Gandharvas, G.o.ds, had vainly fought.

The wounds were on his body yet From wars where G.o.ds and demons met.

And scars still marked his ample chest By fierce Airavat's(484) tusk impressed.

A score of arms, ten necks, had he, His royal gear was brave to see.

His ma.s.sive form displayed each sign That marks the heir of kingly line.

In stature like a mountain height, His arms were strong, his teeth were white, And all his frame of ma.s.sive mould Seemed lazulite adorned with gold.

A hundred seams impressed each limp Where Vish?u's arm had wounded him, And chest and shoulder bore the print Of sword and spear and arrow dint, Where every G.o.d had struck a blow In battle with the giant foe.

His might to wildest rage could wake The sea whose faith naught else can shake, Hurl towering mountains to the earth, And crush e'en foes of heavenly birth.

The bonds of law and right he spurned: To others' wives his fancy turned.

Celestial arms he used in fight, And loved to mar each holy rite.

He went to Bhogavati's town,(485) Where Vasuki was beaten down, And stole, victorious in the strife, Lord Takshaka's beloved wife.

Kailasa's lofty crest he sought, And when in vain Kuvera fought, Stole Pushpak thence, the car that through The air, as willed the master, flew.

Impelled by furious anger, he Spoiled Nandan's(486) shade and Nalini, And Chaitraratha's heavenly grove, The haunts where G.o.ds delight to rove.

Tall as a hill that cleaves the sky, He raised his mighty arms on high To check the blessed moon, and stay The rising of the Lord of Day.

Ten thousand years the giant spent On dire austerities intent, And of his heads an offering, laid Before the Self-existent, made.

No G.o.d or fiend his life could take, Gandharva, goblin, bird, or snake: Safe from all fears of death, except From human arm, that life was kept.

Oft when the priests began to raise Their consecrating hymns of praise, He spoiled the Soma's sacred juice Poured forth by them in solemn use.

The sacrifice his hands o'erthrew, And cruelly the Brahmans slew.

His was a heart that naught could melt, Joying in woes which others felt.

She saw the ruthless monster there, Dread of the worlds, unused to spare.

In robes of heavenly texture dressed, Celestial wreaths adorned his breast.

He sat a shape of terror, like Destruction ere the worlds it strike.

She saw him in his pride of place, The joy of old Pulastya's(487) race, Begirt by counsellor and peer, Rava?, the foeman's mortal fear, And terror in her features shown, The giantess approached the throne.

Then Surpa?akha bearing yet Each deeply printed trace Where the great-hearted chief had set A mark upon her face, Impelled by terror and desire, Still fierce, no longer bold, To Rava? of the eyes of fire Her tale, infuriate, told.

Canto x.x.xIII. Surpanakha's Speech.

Burning with anger, in the ring Of counsellors who girt their king, To Rava?, ravener of man, With bitter words she thus began:

"Wilt thou absorbed in pleasure, still Pursue unchecked thy selfish will: Nor turn thy heedless eyes to see The coming fate which threatens thee?

The king who days and hours employs In base pursuit of vulgar joys Must in his people's sight be vile As fire that smokes on funeral pile.

He who when duty calls him spares No time for thought of royal cares, Must with his realm and people all Involved in fatal ruin fall.

As elephants in terror shrink From the false river's miry brink, Thus subjects from a monarch flee Whose face their eyes may seldom see, Who spends the hours for toil ordained In evil courses unrestrained.

He who neglects to guard and hold His kingdom by himself controlled, Sinks nameless like a hill whose head Is buried in the ocean's bed.

Thy foes are calm and strong and wise, Fiends, G.o.ds, and warriors of the skies,- How, heedless, wicked, weak, and vain, Wilt thou thy kingly state maintain?

Thou, lord of giants, void of sense, Slave of each changing influence, Heedless of all that makes a king, Destruction on thy head wilt bring.

O conquering chief, the prince, who boasts, Of treasury and rule and hosts, By others led, though lord of all, Is meaner than the lowest thrall.

For this are monarchs said to be Long-sighted, having power to see Things far away by faithful eyes Of messengers and loyal spies.

But aid from such thou wilt not seek: Thy counsellors are blind and weak, Or thou from these hadst surely known Thy legions and thy realm o'erthrown.

Know, twice seven thousand, fierce in might, Are slain by Rama in the fight, And they, the giant host who led, Khara and Dusha?, both are dead.

Know, Rama with his conquering arm Has freed the saints from dread of harm, Has smitten Janasthan and made Asylum safe in Da??ak's shade.

Enslaved and dull, of blinded sight, Intoxicate with vain delight, Thou closest still thy heedless eyes To dangers in thy realm that rise.

A king besotted, mean, unkind, Of n.i.g.g.ard hand and slavish mind.

Will find no faithful followers heed Their master in his hour of need.

The friend on whom he most relies, In danger, from a monarch flies, Imperious in his high estate, Conceited, proud, and pa.s.sionate; Who ne'er to state affairs attends With wholesome fear when woe impends Most weak and worthless as the gra.s.s, Soon from his sway the realm will pa.s.s.

For rotting wood a use is found, For clods and dust that strew the ground, But when a king has lost his sway, Useless he falls, and sinks for aye.

As raiment by another worn, As faded garland crushed and torn, So is, unthroned, the proudest king, Though mighty once, a useless thing.

But he who every sense subdues And each event observant views, Rewards the good and keeps from wrong, Shall reign secure and flourish long.

Though lulled in sleep his senses lie He watches with a ruler's eye, Untouched by favour, ire, and hate, And him the people celebrate.

O weak of mind, without a trace Of virtues that a king should grace, Who hast not learnt from watchful spy That low in death the giants lie.

Scorner of others, but enchained By every base desire, By thee each duty is disdained Which time and place require.

Soon wilt thou, if thou canst not learn, Ere yet it be too late, The good from evil to discern, Fall from thy high estate."

As thus she ceased not to upbraid The king with cutting speech, And every fault to view displayed, Naming and marking each, The monarch of the sons of night, Of wealth and power possessed, And proud of his imperial might, Long pondered in his breast.

Canto x.x.xIV. Surpanakha's Speech.

Then forth the giant's fury broke As Surpa?akha harshly spoke.

Girt by his lords the demon king Looked on her, fiercely questioning:

"Who is this Rama, whence, and where?

His form, his might, his deeds declare.

His wandering steps what purpose led To Da??ak forest, hard to tread?

What arms are his that he could smite In fray the rovers of the night, And Trisiras and Dusha? lay Low on the earth, and Khara slay?

Tell all, my sister, and declare Who maimed thee thus, of form most fair."

Thus by the giant king addressed, While burnt her fury unrepressed, The giantess declared at length The hero's form and deeds and strength:

"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 Dusha? both were dead, And he had freed the saints and made Asylum sure in Da??ak'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 Lakshma?, 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 G.o.ddess, Queen Of beauty with her n.o.ble 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.

G.o.ddess 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.

She, peerless in her form and face And rich in every gentle grace, Is worthy bride, O King, for thee, As thou art meet her lord to be.

I even I, will bring the bride In triumph to her lover's side- This beauty fairer than the rest, With rounded limb and heaving breast.

Each wound upon my face I owe To cruel Lakshma?'s savage blow.

But thou, O brother, shalt survey Her moonlike loveliness to-day, And Kama's piercing shafts shall smite Thine amorous bosom at the sight.