Sri Valmiki Ramayanam - Book 5- English Verse by Ralph T H Griffith chapter 36 to 66 Part 2

THE

RÁMÁYAN OF VÁLMÍKI

Translated into English Verse

BY

RALPH T. H. GRIFFITH, M. A.,

[(Ralph Thomas Hotchkin Griffith), b. 1826 d. 1906]

PRINCIPAL OF THE BENARES COLLEGE

Book 5

CANTO XXXVI.: RÁMA'S RING.

'Receive,' he cried, 'this precious ring,  2b
Sure token from thy lord the king:
The golden ring he wont to wear:
See, Ráma's name engraven there.'
Then, as she took the ring he showed,
The tears that spring of rapture flowed.
She seemed to touch the hand that sent
The dearly valued ornament,
And with her heart again at ease,
Replied in gentle words like these:
'O thou, whose soul no fears deter.
Wise, brave, and faithful messenger!
And hast thou dared, o'er wave and foam,
To seek me in the giants' home!
In thee, true messenger, I find
The noblest of thy woodland kind.
Who couldst, unmoved by terror, brook
On Rávan, king of fiends, to look.
p. 415
Now may we commune here as friends,
For he whom royal Ráma sends
Must needs he one in danger tried,
A valiant, wise, and faithful guide.
Say, is it well with Ráma still?
Lives Lakshman yet untouched by ill?
Then why should Ráma's hand be slow
To free his consort from her woe?
Why spare to burn, in search of me,
The land encircled by the sea?
Can Bharat send no army out
With banners, cars and battle shout?
Cannot thy king Sugríva lend
His legions to assist his friend?'
   His hands upon his head he laid
And thus again his answer made:
'Not yet has Ráma learnt where lies
His lady of the lotus eyes,
Or he like Indra from the sky
To S'achí's  1 aid, to thee would fly.
Soon will he hear the tale, and then,
Roused to revenge, the lord of men
Will to the giants' island lead
Fierce myriads of the woodland breed,
Bridging his conquering way, and make
The town a ruin for thy sake.
Believe my words, sweet dame; I swear
By roots and fruit, my woodland fare,
By Meru's peak and Vindhva's chain,
And Mandar of the Milky Main,
Soon shalt thou see thy lord, though now
He waits upon Prasravan's  2 brow,
Come glorious as the breaking morn,
Like Indra on Airávat  3 borne.
For thee he looks with longing eyes;
The wood his scanty food supplies.
For thee his brow is pale and worn,
For thee are meat and wine forsworn.
Thine image in his heart he keeps,
For thee by night he wakes and weeps.
Or if perchance his eyes he close
And win brief respite from his woes,
E'en then the name of Sítá slips
In anguish from his murmuring lips.
If lovely flowers or fruit lie sees,
Which women love, upon the trees,
To thee, to thee his fancy flies.
And 'Sítá! O my love!' he cries.'

Footnotes

414:1b Sítá of course knows nothing of what has happened to Ráma since the time when she was carried away by Rávan, The poet therefore thinks it necessary to repeat the whole story of the meeting between Ráma and Sugríva, the defeat of Báli, and subsequent events. I give the briefest possible outline of the story.
414:2b DE GUBERNATIS thinks that this ring which the Sun Ráma sends to the Dawn Sítá is a symbol of the sun's disc.
415:1 S'achí is the loved and lovely wife of Indra, and she is taken as the type of a woman protected by a jealous and all-powerful husband.
415:2 The mountain near Kishkindhá.
415:3 Airávat is the mighty elephant on which Indra delights to ride.

CANTO XXXVII.: SÍTÁ'S SPEECH.

'Thou bringest me,' she cried again,
'A mingled draught of bliss and pain
Bliss, that he wears me in his heart,
Pain, that he wakes and weeps apart,
O, see how Fate is king of all,
Now lifts us high, now bids us fall,
And leads a captive bound with cord
The meanest slave, the proudest lord,
Thus even now Fate's stern decree
Has struck with grief my lord and me.
Say, how shall Ráma reach the shore
Of sorrow's waves that rise and roar,
A shipwrecked sailor, wellnigh drowned
In the wild sea that foams around?
When will he smite the demon down,
Lay low in dust the giants' town,
And, glorious from his foes' defeat,
His wife, his long-lost Sítá, meet?
Go, bid him speed to smite his foes
Before the year shall reach its close.
Ten months are fled but two remain,
Then Rávan's captive must be slain.
Oft has Vibhíshan,  1b just and wise,
Besought him to restore his prize.
But deaf is Rávan's senseless ear:
His brother's rede he will not hear.
Vibhíshan's daughter  2b loves me well:
From her I learnt the tale I tell,
Avindhva  3b prudent, just, and old,
The giant's fall has oft foretold;
But Fate impels him to despise
His word on whom he most relies.
In Ráma's love I rest secure,
For my fond heart is true and pure,
And him, my noblest lord, I deem
In valour, power, and might supreme.'
   As from her eyes the waters ran,
The Vánar chief again began:
'Yea, Ráma, when he hears my tale,.
Will with our hosts these walls assail,
Or I myself, O Queen, this day
Will bear thee from the fiend away,
Will lift thee up, and take thee hence
To him thy refuge and defence;
Will take thee in my arms, and flee;
To Ráma far beyond the sea;
Will place thee on Prasravan hill
Where Raghu's son is waiting still.'
p. 416
   'How canst thou bear me hence?' she cried,
'The way is long, the sea is wide.
To bear my very weight would be
A task too hard for one like thee.' 1
   Swift rose before her startled eyes
The Vánar in his native size,
Like Mandar's hill or Meru's height,
Encircled with a blaze of light.
'O come,' he cried, 'thy fears dispel,
Nor doubt that I will bear thee well.
Come, in my strength and care confide,
And sit in joy by Ráma's side.'
   Again she spake: 'I know thee now,
Brave, resolute, and strong art thou;
In glory like the Lord of Fire
With storm-swift feet which naught may tire
But yet with thee I may not fly:
For, borne so swiftly through the sky,
Mine eyes would soon grow faint and dim,
My dizzy brain would reel and swim,
My yielding arms relax their hold,
And I in terror uncontrolled
Should fall into the raging sea
Where hungry sharks would feed on me.
Nor can I touch, of free accord,
The limbs of any save my lord.
If, by the giant forced away,
In his enfolding arms I lay,
Not mine, O Vánar, was the blame;
What could I do, a helpless dame?
Go, to my lord my message bear,
And bid him end my long despair.'

Footnotes

415:1b Vibhíshan is the wicked Rávan's good brother.
415:2b Her name is Kalá, or in the Bengal recension Nandá.
415:3b One of Rávan's chief councillors.

CANTO XXXVIII.: SITÁ'S GEM.

Again the Vánar chief replied,
With her wise answer satisfied:
'Well hast thou said: thou canst not brave
The rushing wind, the roaring wave.
Thy woman's heart would sink with fear
Before the ocean shore 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 passage 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 Ráma speak:
'Remember Chitrakúta's peak.
And the green margin of the rill  1b
That flows beside that pleasant hill,
Where thou and I together strayed
Delighting in the tangled shade.
There on the grass I sat with thee
And laid my head upon thy knee.
There came a greedy crow and pecked
The meat I waitd 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 Ráma  2b 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 Ráma's feet his head. 3b
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 Vánar envoy bent
In low obeisance reverent.
And on his finger bound the gem
She loosened from her diadem.
p. 417

Footnotes

416:1 Hanumán when he entered the city had in order to escape observation condensed himself to the size of a cat.
416:1b The brook Mandákiní, not far from Chitrakúta where Ráma sojourned for a time.
416:2b The poet here changes from the second person to the third.
416:3b The whole long story is repeated with some slight variations and additions from Book II. Canto XCVI. I give here only the outline.

CANTO XLI. 1: THE RUIN OF THE GROVE.

Dismissed with every honour due
The Vánar from the spot withdrew.
Then joyous thought the Wind-God's son:
'The mighty task is wellnigh done.
The three expedients I must leave;
The fourth alone can I achieve.  2
These dwellers in the giants' isle
No arts of mine can reconcile.
I cannot bribe: I cannot sow
Dissension mid the Rákshas 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 Rávan'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 Rákshas legions will I meet,
And all his bravest host defeat;
Then, glorious from the bloody 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 passed.

Footnotes

417:1 I omit two Cantos of dialogue. Sítá tells Hanumán again to convey her message to Ráma and bid him hasten to rescue her. Hanumán replies as before that there is no one on earth equal to Ráma, who will soon come and destroy Rávan. There is not a new idea in the two Cantos: all is reiteration.
417:2 The expedients to vanquish an enemy or to make him come to terms are said to be four: conciliation, gifts, disunion, and force or punishment. Hanumán considers it useless to employ the first three and resolves to punish Rávan by destroying his pleasure-grounds.

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 Vánar where he stood
Amid the devastated wood.
The more to scare them with the view
To size immense the Vánar grew;
And straight the Rákshas 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 noble 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 Sítá 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 Sítá's side,
He comes from Indra's court to her,
Or is Kuvera's messenger;
Or Ráma 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 Sítá 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  1b speed
p. 418
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 Hanúmán 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 Rákshas crowd,
The wondrous monkey roared aloud,
That birds fell headlong from the sky:
Then spake he with a mighty cry:
'Long life to Das'aratha's heir,
And Lakshman, ever-glorious pair
Long life to him who rules our race,
Preserved by noblest Ráma's grace
I am the slave of Kosal's king, 1
Whose wondrous deeds the minstrels sing.
Hanúmán I, the Wind-God's seed:
Beneath this arm the foemen bleed.
I fear not, unapproached in might,
A thousand Rávans 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 Vánar caught it up, and swayed
The weapon round his head, and slew
The foremost of the Rákshas crew.
Thus Indra vanquished, thousand-eyed,
The Daityas who the Gods defied.
Then on the porch Hanúmán sprang,
And loud his shout of triumph rang.
The giants looked upon the dead,
And turning to their monarch fled.
And Rávan 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.

Footnotes

417:1b Kinkar means the special servant of a sovereign, who receives his orders immediately p. 418 from his master. The Bengal recension gives these Rákshases an epithet which the Commentator explains 'as generated in the mind of Brahmá.'
418:1 Ráma de jure King of Kosal of which Ayodhyá was the capital.

CANTO XLIII.: THE RUIN OF THE TEMPLE.

The Wind-God's son a temple  1b scaled
Which, by his fury unassailed,
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 Vánar tore
A pillar with the weight it bore.
Against the wall the mass 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 Vánar 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 Sugríva's word obey.
Backed by his bravest myriads, he
Our warrior lord will cross the sea,
Then Lanká's lofty towers, and all
Your hosts and Rávan's self shall fall.
None shall be left unslaughtered; none
Who braves the wrath of Raghu's son.'

CANTO XLIV.: JAMBUMÁLI'S DEATH.

Then Jambumáli, pride and boast
For valour of the Rákshas host,
Prahasta's son supremely brave.
Obeyed the hest that Rávan gave:
Fierce warrior with terrific teeth,
With saguine robes and brilliant wreath.
A bow like Indra's own  2b, and store
p. 419
Of glittering shafts the chieftain bore.
And ever as the string he **tried
The weapon with a roar replied,
Loud as the crashing thunder sent
By him who rules the firmament.
Soon as the foeman came in view
Borne on a car which asses drew.
The Vánar chieftain mighty-voiced
Shouted in triumph and rejoiced.
Prahasta's son his bow-string drew,
And swift the winged arrows flew.
One in the face the Vánar smote,
Another quivered in his throat.
Ten from the deadly weapon sent
His brawny aims and shoulders rent.
Then as he felt each galling shot
The Vánar's rage waxed fiercely hot.
He looked, and saw a mass of stone
That lay before his feet o'erthrown.
The mighty block he raised and threw,
And crashing through the air it flew.
But Jambumah shunned the blow,
And rained fresh arrows from his bow.
The Vánar's limbs were red with gore:
A Sál tree from the earth he tore,
And, ere he hurled it undismayed,
Above his head the missile swayed.
But shafts from Jambumah's bow
Cut through it ere his hand could throw.
And thigh and arm and chest and side
With streams of rushing blood were dyed.
Still unsubdued though wounded oft
The shattered trunk he raised aloft,
And down with well-directed aim
On Jambumah's chest it came.
There crushed upon the trampled grass
He lay an undistinguished mass,
The foeman's eye no more could see
His head or chest or arm or knee.
And bow and car and steeds 1 and store
Of glittering; shafts were seen no more.
   When Jambumah's death he heard,
King Rávan's heart with rage was stirred
And forth his general's sons he sent,
For power and might preeminent.

Footnotes

418:1b Chaityaprásáda is explained by the Commentator as the place where the Gods of the Rákshases were kept. Goiresio translates it by 'un grande edificio.'
418:2b The bow of Indra is the rainbow.

CANTO XLV.: THE SEVEN DEFEATED.

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 Hannmán they fiercely drove,
And from the ponderous bows they strained
A shower of deadly arrows rained.
Then scarce was seen the Vánar'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 Vánar undismayed
Amid his archer foemen played,
As plays the frolic wind on high
Mid bow-armed  1b 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.

Footnotes

419:1 We were told a few lines before that the chariot of Jambumah was drawn by asses. Here horses are spoken of. The Commentator notices the discrepancy and says that by horses asses are meant.

CANTO XLVI.: THE CAPTAINS.

Mad with the rage of injured pride
King Ráven summoned to his side
The valiant *** who led his host,
Supreme in war and honoured most.
   'Go forth,' he cried, 'with car and steed,
A** **** feet this monkey lead.
But watch each chance of time and place
To seize this thing of silvan race.
For from his wondrous exploits he
No monkey of the woods can be,
p. 420
But some new kind of creature meant
To work us woe, by Indra sent.
Gandharvas, Nágas, and the best
Of Yakshas have our might confessed.
Have we not challenged and subdued
The whole celestial multitude?
Yet will you not, if you are wise,
A chief of monkey race despise.
For I myself have Báli known,
And King Sugríva's power I own.
But none of all their woodland throng
Was half so terrible and strong.'
   Obedient to the words he spake
They hastened forth the foe to take.
Swift were the cars whereon they rode,
And bright their weapons flashed and glowed.
They saw: they charged in wild career
With sword and mace and axe and spear.
From Durdhar's bow five arrows sped
And quivered in the Vánar's head.
He rose and roared; the fearful sound
Made all the region echo round.
Then from above his weight he threw
On Durdhar's car that near him drew.
The weight that came with lightning speed
Crushed pole and axle, car and steed.
It shattered Durdhar's head and neck,
And left him lifeless mid the wreck.
Yúpáksha saw the warrior die,
And Virúpáksha heard his cry,
And, mad for vengeance for the slain,
They charged their Vánar foe again.
He rose in air: they onward pressed
And fiercely smote him on the breast.
In vain they struck his iron frame:
With eagle swoop to earth he came,
Tore from the ground a tree that grew
Beside him, and the demons slew.
Then Bhásakama raised his spear,
And Praghas with a laugh drew near,
And, maddened at the sight, the two
Against the undaunted Vánar flew.
As from his wounds the torrents flowed,
Like a red sun the Vánar showed.
He turned, a mountain peak to seize
With all its beasts and snakes and trees.
He hurled it on the pair: and they
Crushed, overwhelmed, beneath it lay.

Footnotes

419:1b Armed with the bow of Indra, the rainbow.

CANTO XLVII.: THE DEATH OF AKSHA.

But Rávan, as his fury burned,
His eyes on youthful Aksha  1 turned,
Who rose impetuous at his glance
And shouted for his bow and lance.
He rode upon a glorious car
That shot the light of gems afar.
His pennon waved mid glittering gold
And bright the wheels with jewels rolled.
By long and fierce devotion won
That car was splendid as the sun.
With rows of various weapons stored;
And thought-swift horses whirled their lord
Racing along the earth, or rose
High through the clouds whene'er he chose.
Then fierce and fearful war between
The Vánar and the fiend was seen.
The Gods and Asurs stood amazed,
And on the wondrous combat gazed.
A cry from earth rose long and shrill,
The wind was hushed, the sun grew chill.
The thunder bellowed from the sky,
And troubled ocean roared reply.
Thrice Aksha strained his dreadful bow,
Thrice smote his arrow on the foe,
And with full streams of crimson bled
Three gashes in the Vánar's head.
Then rose Hanumán in the air
To shun the shafts no life could bear.
But Aksha in his car pursued,
And from on high the fight renewed
With storm of arrows, thick as hail
When angry clouds some hill assail.
Impatient of that arrowy shower
The Vánar chief put forth his power,
Again above his chariot rose
And smote him with repeated blows.
Terrific came each deadly stroke:
Breast neck and arm and back he broke;
And Aksha fell to earth, and lay
With all his life-blood drained away.

Footnotes

420:1 Rávan's son.

CANTO XLVIIL: HANUMÁN CAPTURED.

To Indrajit  1b the bold and brave
The giant king his mandate gave:
'O trained in warlike science, best
In arms of all our mightiest,
Whose valour in the conflict shown
To Asurs and to Gods is known,
The Kinkars whom I sent are slain,
And Jambumálí and his train;
The lords who led our giant bands
Have fallen by the monkey s hands;
With shattered cars the ground is spread,
And Aksha lies amid the dead.
Thou art my best and bravest: go,
Unmatched in power, and slay the foe.'
p. 421
He heard the hest: he bent his head;
Athirst for battle forth he sped.
Four tigers fierce, of tawny hue,
With fearful teeth, his chariot drew.
   Hanúmán heard his strong bow clang,
And swiftly from the earth he sprang,
While weak and ineffective fell
The archer's shafts though pointed well.
The Rákshas saw that naught might kill
The wondrous foe who mocked his skill,
And launched a magic shaft to throw
A binding spell about his foe.
Forth flew the shaft: the mystic charm
Stayed his swift feet and numbed his arm.
Through all his frame he felt the spell,
And motionless to earth he fell.
Nor would the reverent Vánar loose
The bonds that bound him as a noose.
He knew that Brahmá's self had charmed
The weapon that his might disarmed.
   They saw him helpless on the ground,
And all the giants pressed around,
And bonds of hemp and bark were cast
About his limbs to hold him fast.
They drew the ropes round feet and wrists;
They beat him with their hands and fists.
And dragged him as they strained the cord
With shouts of triumph to their lord.  1

Footnotes

420:1b Conqueror of lndra, another of Rávan's sons.

CANTO XLIX.: RÁVAN.

On the fierce king Hanúmán turned
His angry eyes that glowed and burned.
He saw him decked with wealth untold
Of diamond and pearl and gold,
And priceless was each wondrous gem
That sparkled in his diadem.
About his neck rich chains were twined,
The best that fancy e'er designed,
And a fair robe with pearls bestrung
Down from his mighty shoulders hung.
Ten heads he reared,  2 as Mandar's hill
Lifts woody peaks which tigers fill.
Bright were his eyes, and bright, beneath,
The flashes of his awful teeth.
His brawny arms of wondrous size
Were decked with rings and scented dyes
His hands like snakes with five long heads
Descending from their mountain beds.
He sat upon a crystal throne
Inlaid with wealth of precious stone,
Whereon, of noblest work, was set
A gold-embroidered coverlet,
Behind the monarch stood the best
Of beauteous women gaily dressed.
And each her giant master fanned,
Or waved a chourie in her hand.
Four noble courtiers  1b wise and good
In counsel, near the monarch stood,
As the four oceans ever stand
About the sea-encompassed land.
Still, though his heart with rage was fired,
The Vánar marvelled and admired:
'O what a rare and wondrous sight!
What beauty, majesty, and might!
All regal pomp combines to grace
This ruler of the Rákshas race.
He, if he scorned not right aud law,
Might guide the world with tempered awe:
Yea, Indra and the Gods on high
Might on his saving power rely.'

Footnotes

421:1 The sloka which follows is probably an interpolation, as it is inconsistent w?th the questioning in Canto L.: He looked on Ravan in his pride, And boldly to the monarch cried: 'I came an envoy to this place From him who rules the Vánar race.
421:2 The ten heads of Rávan have provoked much ridicule from European critics. It should be remembered that Spenser tells us of "two brethren giants" "The one of which had two heads, the other three;" and Milton speaks of the "four-fold visaged Four," the four Cherubic shapes each of which had four faces.

CANTO L.: PRAHASTA'S QUESTIONS.

Then fierce the giant's fury blazed
As on Hanúmán's form he gazed,
And shaken by each wild surmise
He spake aloud with flashing eyes:
'Can this be Nandi  2b standing here,
The mighty one whom all revere?
Who once on high Kailása's hill
Pronounced the curse that haunts me still?
Or is the woodland creature one
Of Asur race, or Bali's  3b son?
The wretch with searching question try:
Learn who he is, and whence; and why
He marred the glory of the grove,
And with my captains fiercely strove.'
p. 422
Prahasta heard his lord's behest,
And thus the Vánar chief addressed:
'O monkey stranger, be consoled:
Fear not, and let thy heart be bold.
If thou by Indra's mandate sent
Thy steps to Lanká's isle hast bent,
With fearless words the cause explain,
And freedom thou shalt soon regain.
Or if thou comest as a spy
Despatched by Vishnu in the sky,
Or sent by Yama, or the Lord
Of Riches, hast our town explored;
Proved by the prowess thou hast shown
No monkey save in form alone;
Speak boldly all the truth, and be
Released from bonds, unharmed and free.
But falsehood spoken to our king
Swift punishment of death will bring.'
He ceased: the Vánar made reply;
'Not Indra's messenger am I,
Nor came I hither to fulfil
Kuvera's hest or Vishnu's will.
I stand before the giants here
A Vánar e'en as I appear.
I longed to see the king--'twas hard
To win my way through gate and guard.
And so to gain my wish I laid
In ruin that delightful shade
No fiend, no God of heavenly kind
With bond or chain these herbs may bind.
The Eternal Sire himself of old
Vouchsafed the boon that makes me bold,
From Brahmá's magic shaft released  1
I knew the captor's power had ceased,
The fancied bonds I freely brooked,
And thus upon the king have looked.
My way to Lanká have I won,
A messenger from Raghu's son.'

Footnotes

421:1b Durdhar, or as the Bengal recension reads Mahodara, Prahasta, Mahápárs'va, and Nikumbha.
421:2b The chief attendant of S'iva.
421:3b Bali, not to be confounded with Báli the Vánar, was a celebrated Daitya or demon who had usurped the empire of the three worlds, and who was deprived of two thirds of his dominions by Vishnu in the Dwarf incarnation.

CANTO LI.: HANUMÁN'S REPLY.

My king Sugriva greets thee fair,
And bids me thus his rede declare.
Son of the God of Wind, by name
Hanumán, to this isle I came.
To set the Maithil lady free
I crossed the barrier of the sea.
I roamed in search of her and found
Her weeping on that lovely ground.
Then in the lore of duty trained,
Who hast by stern devotion gained
This wondrous wealth and power and fame
Shouldst fear to wrong another's dame.
Hear thou my counsel, and be wise:
No fiend, no dweller in the skies
Can bear the shafts by Lakshman shot,
Or Ráma when his wrath is hot.
O Giant King, repent the crime
And soothe him while there yet is time.
Now be the Maithil queen restored
Uninjured to her sorrowing lord.
Soon wilt thou rue thy dire mistake:
She is no woman but a snake,
Whose very deadly bite will be
The ruin of thy house and thee.
Thy pride has led thy thoughts astray,
That fancy not a hand may slay
The monarch of the giants, screened
From mortal blow of God and fiend.
Sugríva still thy death may be:
No Yaksha, fiend, or God is he
And Ráma from a woman springs,
The mortal seed of mortal kings.
O think how Báli fell subdued;
Think on thy slaughtered multitude.
Respect those brave and strong allies;
Consult thy safety, and be wise.
I, even I, no helper need
To overthrow, with car and steed,
Thy city Lanká half divine:
The power but not the will is mine.
For Raghu's son, before his friend
Tne Vánar monarch, strove to end
With his own conquering arm the life
Of him who stole his darling wife.
Turn, and be wise, O Rávan turn;
Or thou wilt see thy Lanká burn,
And with thy wives, friends, kith and kin
Be ruined for thy senseless sin.'

Footnotes

422:1 When Hanumán was bound with cords Indrajit released his captive from the spell laid upon him by the magic weapon.

CANTO LII.: VIBHÍSHAN'S SPEECH.

Then Rávan spake with flashing eye:
'Hence with the Vánar: let him die.
Vibíshan heard the stern behest,
And pondered in his troubled breast;
Then, trained in arts that soothe and please
Addressed the king in words like these:
'Revoke, my lord, thy fierce decree,
And hear the words I speak to thee.
Kings wise and noble ne'er condemn
To death the envoys sent to them:
Such deed the world's contempt would draw
On him who breaks the ancient law.  1b
Observe the mean where justice lies,
And spare his life but still chastise.'
p. 423
   Then forth the tyrant's fury broke,
And thus in angry words he spoke:
'O hero, when the wicked bleed
No sin or shame attends the deed.
The Vánar's blood must needs be spilt,
The penalty of heinous guilt.'
   Again Vibhíshan made reply:
'Nay, hear me, for he must not die.
Hear the great law the wise declare:
'Thy foeman's envoy thou shalt spare.'
'Tis true he comes an open foe:
'Tis true his hands have wrought us woe
But law allows thee, if thou wilt,
A punishment to suit the guilt.
The mark of shame, the scourge, the brand,
The shaven head, the wounded hand.
Yea, were the Vánar envoy slain,
Where, King of giants, were the gain?
On them alone, on them who sent
The message, be the punishment.
For spake he well or spake he ill,
He spake obedient to their will.
And, if he perish, who can bear
Thy challenge to the royal pair?
Who, cross the ocean and incite
Thy death-doomed enemies to fight?'

Footnotes

422:1b "One who murders an ambassador i (rája *bhata) goes to Tuptakumbha, the hell of heated caldrons." WILSON's Vishya Purana, Vol. II pg 217. p. 423 "It will be remembered that the envoys of King David had the half of their beards shaved off by Hanun, King of Ammon. (2 Sam. X.)" WHEELER, Hist, of India, Vol. II. 342.

CANTO LIII.: THE PUNISHMENT.

King Rávan, by his pleading moved,
The counsel of the chief approved:
   'Thy words are wise and true; to kill
An envoy would beseem us ill
Yet must we for his crime invent
Some fitting mode of punishment.
The tail, I fancy, is the part
Most cherished by a monkey's heart. 1
Make ready: set his tail aflame,
And let him leave us as he came,
And thus disfigured and disgraced
Back to his king and people haste.'
   The giants heard their monarch's speech;
And, filled with burning fury, each
Brought strips of cotton cloth, and round
The monkey's tail the bandage wound.
As round big tail the bands they drew
His mighty form dilating grew
Vast as the flame that bursts on high
Where trees are old and grass is dry.
Each hand and strip they soaked in oil,
And set on fire the twisted coil.
Delighted as they viewed the blaze,
The cruel demons stood at gaze:
And mid loud drums and shells rang out
The triumph of their joyful shout.
They pressed about him thick and fast
As through the crowded streets he passed,
Observing with attentive care
Each rich and wondrous structure there,
Still heedless of the eager cry
That rent the air, The spy! the spy!
   Some to the captive lady ran.
And thus in joyous words began:
'That copper-visaged monkey, he
Who in the garden talked with thee,
Through Lanká's town is led a show,
And round his tail the red flames glow.'
The mournful news the lady heard
That with fresh grief her bosom stirred.
Swift to the kindled fire she went
And prayed before it reverent:
'If I my husband have obeyed,
And kept the ascetic vows I made,
Free, ever free, from stain and blot,
O spare the Vánar; harm him not.'
   Then leapt on high the flickering flame
And shone in answer to the dame.
The pitying fire its rage forbore:
The Vánar felt the heat no more.
Then, to minutest size reduced, 1b
The bonds that bound his limbs he loosed,
And, freed from every band and chain,
Rose to his native size again.
He seized a club of ponderous weight
That lay before him by the gate,
Rushed at the fiends that hemmed him round,
And laid them lifeless on the ground,
Through Lanká's town again he strode,
And viewed each street and square and road,--
Still wreathed about with harmless blaze,
A sun engarlanded with rays.
p. 424

Footnotes

423:1 I have not attempted to tone down anything in this Canto. I give a faithful translation.
423:1b "Behold a wonder! they but now who seemed In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons, Now less than smallest dwarfs in narrow room Throng numberless."
Paradise Lost, I, 716.

CANTO LIV.: THE BURNING OF LANKÁ.

'What further deed remains to do
To vex the Rákshas king anew?
The beauty of his grove is marred,
Killed are the bravest of his guard.
The captains of his host are slain;
But forts and palaces remain.
Swift is the work and light the toil
Each fortress of the foe to spoil.'
   Reflecting thus, his tale ablaze
As through the cloud red lightning plays,
He scaled the palaces and spread
The conflagration where he sped.
From house to house he hurried on,
And the wild flames behind him shone.
Each mansion of the foe he scaled,
And furious fire its roof assailed
Till all the common ruin shared:
Vibhíshan's house alone was spared.
From blazing pile to pile he sprang,
And loud his shout of triumph rang,
As roars the doomsday cloud when all
The worlds in dissolution fall.
The friendly wind conspired to fan
The hungry flames that leapt and ran,
And spreading in their fury caught
The gilded walls with pearls inwrought,
Till each proud palace reeled and fell
As falls a heavenly citadel.
   Loud was the roar the demons raised
Mid walls that split and beams that blazed,
As each with vain endeavour strove
To stay the flames in house or grove.
The women, with dishevelled hair,
Flocked to the roofs in wild despair,
Shrieked out for succour, wept aloud,
And fell, like lightning from a cloud.
He saw the flames ascend and curl
Round turkis, diamond, and pearl,
While silver floods and molten gold
From ruined wall and latice rolled.
As fire grows fiercer as he feeds
On wood and grass and crackling reeds,
So Hanumán the ruin eyed
With fury still unsatisfied.

CANTO LV.: FEAR FOR SÍTÁ.

But other thoughts resumed their sway
When Lanká's town in ruin lay;
And, as his bosom felt their weigh
He stood a while to meditate
'What have I done?', he thought with shame,
'Destroyed the town with hostile flame.
O happy they whose firm control
Checks the wild passion of the soul;
Who on the fires of anger throw
The cooling drops that check their glow.
But woe is me, whom wrath could lead
To do this senseless shameless deed.
The town to fire and death I gave,
Nor thought of her I came to save,--
Doomed by my own rash folly, doomed
To perish in the flames consumed.
If I, when anger drove me wild.
Have caused the death of Janak's child,
The kindled flame shall end my woe,
Or the deep fires that burn below, 1
Or my forsaken corse shall be
Food for the monsters of the sea.
How can I meet Sugríva? how
Before the royal brothers bow,--
I whose rash deed has madly foiled.
The noble work in which we toiled?
Or has her own bright virtue shed
Its guardian influence round her head?
She lives untouched,--the peerless dame;
Flame has no fury for the flame. 2
The very fire would ne'er consent
To harm a queen so excellent,--
The high-souled Ráma's faithful wife,
Protected by her holy life.
She lives, she lives. Why should I fear
For one whom Raghu's sons hold dear?
Has not the pitying fire that spared
The Vánar for the lady cared?'
   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 Hanumán the Wind-God's son.
The flames o'er Lanká's city rise:
The giants' home in ruin lies.
O'er roof and wall the fires have spread,
Nor harmed a hair of Sítá's head.'

CANTO LVI: MOUNT ARISHTA.

He looked upon the burning waste,
Then sought the queen in joyous haste,
With words of hope consoled her heart,
And made him ready to depart.
p. 425
He sealed Arishta's glorious steep
Whose summits beetled o'er the deep.
The woods in varied beauty dressed
Hung like a garland round his crest,
And clouds of ever changing hue
A robe about his shoulders threw.
On him the rays of morning fell
To wake the hill they loved so well,
And bid unclose those splendid eyes
That glittered in his mineral dyes.
He woke to hear the music made
By thunders of the white cascade,
While every laughing rill that sprang
From crag to crag its carol sang.
For arms, he lifted to the stars
His towering stems of Deodárs,
And morning heard his pealing call
In tumbling brook and waterfall.
He trembled when his woods were pale
And bowed beneath the autumn gale,
And when his vocal reeds were stirred
His melancholy moan was heard.
  Far down against the mountain's feet
The Vánar heard the wild waves beat;
Then turned his glances to the north.
Sprang from the peak and bounded forth,
The mountain felt the fearful shock
And trembled through his mass of rock.
The tallest trees were crushed and rent
And headlong to the valley sent,
And as the rocking shook each cave
Loud was the roar the lions gave.
Forth from the shaken cavern came
Fierce serpents with their tongues aflame;
And every Yaksha, wild with dread,
And Kinnar and Gandharva, fled.

\

Footnotes

424:1 The fire which is supposed to burn beneath the sea.
424:2 Sítá is likened to the fire which is an emblem of purity.

\

CANTO LVII.: HANÚMÁN'S RETURN.

Still, like a winged mountain, he
Sprang forward through the airy sea, 1
And rushing through the ether drew
The clouds to follow as he flew,
Through the great host around him spread,
Grey, golden, dark, and white, and red.
Now in a sable cloud immersed,
Now from its gloomy pall he burst,
Like the bright Lord of Stars concealed
A moment, and again revealed.
Sunábha  1b passed, he neared the coast
Where waited still the Vánar host.
They heard a rushing in the skies,
And lifted up their wondering eyes.
His wild triumphant shout they knew
That louder still and louder grew,
And Jámbaván with eager voice
Called on the Vánars to rejoice:
'Look he returns, the Wind-God's son,
And full success his toils have won;
Triumphant is the shout that comes
Like music of a thousand drums.'
  Up sprang the Vánars from the ground
And listened to the wondrous sound
Of hurtling arm and thigh as through
The region of the air he flew,
Loud as the wind, when tempests rave,
Roars in the prison of the cave.
From crag to crag, from height to height;
They bounded in their mad delight,
And when he touched the mountain's crest,
With reverent welcome round him pressed.
They brought him of their woodland fruits,
They brought him of the choicest roots,
And laughed and shouted in their glee
The noblest of their chiefs to see.
Nor Hanúmán delayed to greet
Sage Jámbaván with reverence meet;
To Angad and the chiefs he bent
For age and rank preëminent,
And briefly spoke: 'These eyes have seen,
These lips addressed, the Maithil queen.'
They sat beneath the waving trees,
And Angad spoke in words like these:
'O noblest of the Vánar kind
For valour power and might combined,
To thee triumphant o'er the foe
Our hopes, our lives and all we owe.
O faithful heart in perils tried,
p. 426
Which toil nor fear could turn aside,
Thy deed the lady will restore,
And Ráma's heart will ache no more,'  1

Footnotes

425:1 I omit two stanzas which continue the metaphor of the sea or lake of air. The moon is its lotus, the sun its wild- duck, the clouds are its water-weeds, Mars is its shark and so on. Gorresio remarks: 'This comparison of a great lake to the sky and of celestial to aquatic objects is one of those ideas which the view and qualities of natural scenery awake in lively fancies. Imagine one of those grand and splendid lakes of India covered with lotus blossoms, furrowed by wild-ducks of the most vivid colours, mantled over here and there with flowers and water weeds &c. and it will be understood how the fancy of the poet could readily compare to the sky radiant with celestial azure the blue expanse of the water, to the soft light of the moon the ****** hue of the lotus, to the splendour of the sun the brilliant colours of the wild-fowl, to the stars the flowers, to the cloud the weeds that float upon the water &c.'
425:1b Sunábha is the mountain that rose from the sea when Hanúmán passed over to Lanká.

CANTO LXI.: THE FEAST OF HONEY.

They rose in air: the region grew
Dark with their shadow as they flew.
Swift to a lovely grove  2 they came
That rivalled heavenly Nandan's  3 fame
Where countless bees their honey stored,--
The pleasance of the Vánars' lord,
To every creature fenced and barred,
Which Dadhimukh was set to guard,
A noble Vánar, brave and bold,
Sugríva's uncle lofty-souled.
To Angad came with one accord
The Vánars, and besought their lord
That they those honeyed stores might eat
That made the grove so passing sweet.
   He gave consent: they sought the trees
Thronged with innumerable bees.
They rifled all the treasured store,
And ate the fruit the branches bore,
And still as they prolonged the feast
Their merriment and joy increased.
Drunk with the sweets, they danced and bowed,
They wildly sang, they laughed aloud.
Some climbed and sprang from tree to tree,
Some sat and chattered in their glee.
Some scaled the trees which creepers crowned,
And rained the branches to the ground.
There with loud laugh a Vánar sprang
Close to his friend who madly sang,
In doleful mood another crept
To mix his tears with one who wept.
   Then Dadhimukh with fury viewed
The intoxicated multitude.
He looked upon the rifled shade,
And all the ruin they had made;
Then called with angry voice, and strove
To save the remnant of the grove,
But warning cries and words were spurned,
And angry taunt and threat returned.
Then fierce and wild contention rose:
With furious words he mingled blows.
They by no shame or fear withheld,
By drunken mood and ire impelled,
Used claws, and teeth, and hands, and beat
The keeper under trampling feet.

Footnotes

426:1 Three Cantos of repetition are omitted.
426:2 Madhuvan the 'honey-wood.'
426:3 Indra's pleasure-ground or elysium.

CANTO LXV.  1b: THE TIDINGS.

On to Prasravan's hill they sped
Where blooming trees their branches spread.
To Raghu's sons their heads they bent
And did obeisance reverent.
Then to their king, by Angad led,
Each Vánar chieftain bowed his head;
And Hanumán the brave and bold
His tidings to the monarch told;
But first in Ráma's hand he placed
The gem that Sítá's brow had graced:
'I crossed the sea: I searched a while
For Sítá in the giants' isle.
I found her vext with taunt and threat
By demon guards about her set.
Her tresses twined in single braid,
On the bare earth her limbs were laid.
Sad were her eyes: her cheeks were pale
As shuddering flowers in winter's gale.
I stood beside the weeping dame,
And gently whispered Ráma's name:
With cheering words her grief consoled,
And then the whole adventure told.
She weeps afar beyond the sea,
And her true heart is still with thee.
She gave a sign that thou wouldst know,
She bids thee think upon the crow,
And bright mark pressed upon her brow
When none was nigh but she and thou.
She bids thee take this precious stone,
The sea-born gem thou long hast known.
'And I', she said, 'will dull the sting
Of woe by gazing on the ring.
One little month shall I sustain
This life oppressed with woe and pain:
And when the month is ended, I
The giants' prey must surely die.'
p. 427

Footnotes

426:1b Three Cantos consisting of little but repetitions are omitted. Dadhimukh escapes from the infuriated monkeys and hastens to Sugríva to report their misconduct. Sugríva infers that Hanumán and his band have been successful in their search, and that the exuberance of spirits and the mischief complained of, are but the natural expression of their joy. Dadhimukh obtains little sympathy from Sugríva, and is told to return and send the monkeys on with all possible speed.

CANTO LXVI.: RÁMA'S SPEECH.

There ceased the Vánar: Ráma pressed
The treasured jewel to his breast,
And from his eyes the waters broke
As to the Vánar king he spoke:
'As o'er her babe the mother weeps,
This flood of tears the jewel steeps.
This gem that shone on Sítá's head
Was Janak'a gift when we were wed,
And the pure brow that wore it lent
New splendour to the ornament.
This gem, bright offspring of the wave,
The King of Heaven to Janak gave,
Whose noble sacrificial rite
Had filled the God with new delight.
Now, as I gaze upon the prize,
Methinks I see my father's eyes.
Methinks I see before me stand
The ruler of Videha's land. 1
Methinks mine arms are folded now
Round her who wore it on her brow.
Speak, Hanumán, O say, dear friend,
What message did my darling send?
O speak, and let thy words impart
Their gentle dew to cool my heart.
Ah, 'tis the crown of woe to see
This gem and ask 'Where, where is she?'
If for one month her heart be strong,
Her days of life will yet be long.
But I, with naught to lend relief,
This very day must die of grief.
Come, Hanumán, and quickly guide
The mourner to his darling's side.
O lead me--thou hast learnt the way--
I cannot and I will not stay.
How can my gentle love endure,
So timid, delicate, and pure,
The dreadful demons fierce and vile
Who watch her in the guarded isle?
No more the light of beauty shines
From Sítá as she weeps and pines.
But pain and sorrow, cloud on cloud.
Her moonlight glory dim and shroud.
O speak, dear Hanumán, and tell
Each word that from her sweet lips fell,
Her words, her words alone can give
The healing balm to make me live.' 2

Footnotes

427:1 Janak was king of Videha or Mithilá in Behar.
427:2 The original contains two more Cantos which end the Book, Canto LXVII begins thus: 'Hanumán thus addressed by the great-souled son of Raghu related to the son of Raghu all that Sítá had said.' And the two Cantos contain nothing but Hanumán's account of his interview with Sítá, and the report of his own speeches as well as of hers.

End of Book 5

(My humble salutations to Sreeman Ralph T H Griffith for the collection)