The Ramayana Part 108

Then trusting in her heart to wake Desire of all she saw, he spake: "Three hundred million giants, all Obedient to their master's call, Not counting young and weak and old, Serve me with spirits fierce and bold.

A thousand culled from all of these Wait on the lord they long to please.

This glorious power, this pomp and sway, Dear lady, at thy feet I lay: Yea, with my life I give the whole, O dearer than my life and soul.

A thousand beauties fill my hall: Be thou my wife and rule them all.

O hear my supplication! why This reasonable prayer deny?

Some pity to thy suitor show, For love's hot flames within me glow.

This isle a hundred leagues in length, Encompa.s.sed by the ocean's strength, Would all the G.o.ds and fiends defy Though led by Him who rules the sky.

No G.o.d in heaven, no sage on earth, No minstrel of celestial birth, No spirit in the worlds I see A match in power and might for me.

What wilt thou do with Rama, him Whose days are short, whose light is dim, Expelled from home and royal sway, Who treads on foot his weary way?

Leave the poor mortal to his fate, And wed thee with a worthier mate.

My timid love, enjoy with me The prime of youth before it flee.

Do not one hour the hope retain To look on Rama's face again.

For whom would wildest thought beguile To seek thee in the giants' isle?

Say who is he has power to bind In toils of net the rus.h.i.+ng wind.

Whose is the mighty hand will tame And hold the glory of the flame?

In all the worlds above, below, Not one, O fair of form, I know Who from this isle in fight could rend The lady whom these arms defend.

Fair Queen, o'er Lanka's island reign, Sole mistress of the wide domain.

G.o.ds, rovers of the night like me, And all the world thy slaves will be.

O'er thy fair brows and queenly head Let consecrating balm be shed, And sorrow banished from thy breast, Enjoy my love and take thy rest.

Here never more thy soul shall know The memory of thy former woe, And here shall thou enjoy the meed Deserved by every virtuous deed.

Here garlands glow of flowery twine, With gorgeous hues and scent divine.

Take gold and gems and rich attire: Enjoy with me thy heart's desire.

There stand, of chariots far the best, The car my brother once possessed.

Which, victor in the stricken field, I forced the Lord of Gold to yield.

'Tis wide and high and n.o.bly wrought, Bright as the sun and swift as thought.

Therein O Sita, shalt thou ride Delighted by thy lover's side.

But sorrow mars with lingering trace The splendour of thy lotus face.

A cloud of woe is o'er it spread, And all the light of joy is fled."

The lady, by her woe distressed, One corner of her raiment pressed To her sad cheek like moonlight clear, And wiped away a falling tear.

The rover of the night renewed His eager pleading as he viewed The lady stand like one distraught, Striving to fix her wandering thought:

"Think not, sweet lady, of the shame Of broken vows, nor fear the blame.

The saints approve with favouring eyes This union knit with marriage ties.

O beauty, at thy radiant feet I lay my heads, and thus entreat.

One word of grace, one look I crave: Have pity on thy prostrate slave.

These idle words I speak are vain, Wrung forth by love's consuming pain, And ne'er of Rava? be it said He wooed a dame with prostrate head."

Thus to the Maithil lady sued The monarch of the giant brood, And "She is now mine own," he thought, In Death's dire coils already caught.

Canto LVI. Sita's Disdain.

His words the Maithil lady heard Oppressed by woe but undeterred.

Fear of the fiend she cast aside, And thus in n.o.ble scorn replied: "His word of honour never stained King Dasaratha n.o.bly reigned, The bridge of right, the friend of truth.

His eldest son, a n.o.ble youth, Is Rama, virtue's faithful friend, Whose glories through the worlds extend.

Long arms and large full eyes has he, My husband, yea a G.o.d to me.

With shoulders like the forest king's, From old Ikshvaku's line he springs.

He with his brother Lakshma?'s aid Will smite thee with the vengeful blade.

Hadst thou but dared before his eyes To lay thine hand upon the prize, Thou stretched before his feet hadst lain In Janasthan like Khara slain.

Thy boasted rovers of the night With hideous shapes and giant might,- Like serpents when the feathered king Swoops down with his tremendous wing,- Will find their useless venom fail When Rama's mighty arms a.s.sail.

The rapid arrows bright with gold, Shot from the bow he loves to hold, Will rend thy frame from flank to flank As Ganga's waves erode the bank.

Though neither G.o.d nor fiend have power To slay thee in the battle hour, Yet from his hand shall come thy fate, Struck down before his vengeful hate.

That mighty lord will strike and end The days of life thou hast to spend.

Thy days are doomed, thy life is sped Like victims to the pillar led.

Yea, if the glance of Rama bright With fury on thy form should light, Thou scorched this day wouldst fall and die Like Kama slain by Rudra's eye.(506) He who from heaven the moon could throw, Or bid its bright rays cease to glow,- He who could drain the mighty sea Will set his darling Sita free.

Fled is thy life, thy glory, fled Thy strength and power: each sense is dead.

Soon Lanka widowed by thy guilt Will see the blood of giants spilt.

This wicked deed, O cruel King, No triumph, no delight will bring.

Thou with outrageous might and scorn A woman from her lord hast torn.

My glorious husband far away, Making heroic strength his stay, Dwells with his brother, void of fear, In Da??ak forest lone and drear.

No more in force of arms confide: That haughty strength, that power and pride My hero with his arrowy rain From all thy bleeding limbs will drain.

When urged by fate's dire mandate, nigh Comes the fixt hour for men to die.

Caught in Death's toils their eyes are blind, And folly takes each wandering mind.

So for the outrage thou hast done The fate is near thou canst not shun,- The fate that on thyself and all Thy giants and thy town shall fall.

I spurn thee: can the altar dight With vessels for the sacred rite, O'er which the priest his prayer has said, Be sullied by an outcaste's tread?

So me, the consort dear and true Of him who clings to virtue too, Thy hated touch shall ne'er defile, Base tyrant lord of Lanka's isle.

Can the white swan who floats in pride Through lilies by her consort's side, Look for one moment, as they pa.s.s, On the poor diver in the gra.s.s?

This senseless body waits thy will, To torture, chain, to wound or kill.

I will not, King of giants, strive To keep this fleeting soul alive But never shall they join the name Of Sita with reproach and shame."

Thus as her breast with fury burned Her bitter speech the dame returned.

Such words of rage and scorn, the last She uttered, at the fiend she cast.

Her taunting speech the giant heard, And every hair with anger stirred.

Then thus with fury in his eye He made in threats his fierce reply: "Hear Maithil lady, hear my speech: List to my words and ponder each.

If o'er thy head twelve months shall fly And thou thy love wilt still deny, My cooks shall mince thy flesh with steel And serve it for my morning meal."

Thus with terrific threats to her Spake Rava?, cruel ravener.

Mad with the rage her answer woke He called the fiendish train and spoke: "Take her, ye Rakshas dames, who fright With hideous form and mien the sight, Who make the flesh of men your food,- And let her pride be soon subdued."

He spoke, and at his word the band Of fiendish monsters raised each hand In reverence to the giant king, And pressed round Sita in a ring.

Rava? once more with stern behest To those she-fiends his speech addressed: Shaking the earth beneath his tread, He stamped his furious foot and said: "To the Asoka garden bear The dame, and guard her safely there Until her stubborn pride be bent By mingled threat and blandishment.

See that ye watch her well, and tame, Like some she-elephant, the dame."

They led her to that garden where The sweetest flowers perfumed the air, Where bright trees bore each rarest fruit, And birds, enamoured, ne'er were mute.

Bowed down with terror and distress, Watched by each cruel giantess,- Like a poor solitary deer When ravening tigresses are near,- The hapless lady lay distraught Like some wild thing but newly caught, And found no solace, no relief From agonizing fear and grief; Not for one moment could forget Each terrifying word and threat, Or the fierce eyes upon her set By those who watched around.

She thought of Rama far away, She mourned for Lakshma? as she lay In grief and terror and dismay Half fainting on the ground.

Canto LVII. Sita Comforted.

Soon as the fiend had set her down Within his home in Lanka's town Triumph and joy filled Indra's breast, Whom thus the Eternal Sire addressed:

"This deed will free the worlds from woe And cause the giants' overthrow.

The fiend has borne to Lanka's isle The lady of the lovely smile, True consort born to happy fate With features fair and delicate.

She looks and longs for Rama's face, But sees a crowd of demon race, And guarded by the giant's train Pines for her lord and weeps in vain.