Of your grace, my lord, be not wrath, but take a blunt reply to a blunt question. As soon as your younger brother joined him, Râma bestowed upon him the mark of sovereignty. The monkeys, who had heard that we were your spies, put us in bonds and abused us shamefully. They were about to cut off our ears and nose, when we invoked the name of Râma and they let us go. You ask, my lord, of Râma's army; a myriad tongues would fail to tell it: such a host of bears and monkeys of diverse hue and gruesome visage, huge and terrible—the one who set fire to the city and slew your son is the very weakest of them all—champions with innumerable names, fierce and unyielding monsters of vast bulk, with the strength of unnumbered elephants.
Sanskrit Invocation
I worship Rāma; the adored of Love’s enemy; the dispeller of all the terrors of existence; the lion to destroy the mad elephant, Death; the lord of ascetics; accessible only by contemplation; the store-house of all good qualities; the invincible; the passionless; the unchangeable; above the influence of Maya; the sovereign of the gods; the implacable destroyer of the wicked; the one god over Brahma and all his fellows; the god incarnate in the form of an earthly king, lotos-eyed and lustrous as the jasmine.
Sanskrit Invocation
I worship Rāma; the adored of Love’s enemy; the dispeller of all the terrors of existence; the lion to destroy the mad elephant, Death; the lord of ascetics; accessible only by contemplation; the store-house of all good qualities; the invincible; the passionless; the unchangeable; above the influence of Maya; the sovereign of the gods; the implacable destroyer of the wicked; the one god over Brahma and all his fellows; the god incarnate in the form of an earthly king, lotos-eyed and lustrous as the jasmine.
I glorify the divine Sankara, as glistening in hue as the conch shell or the moon; the all-beautiful in person, robed in tiger’s skin; bedecked with horrible black snakes for ornaments, attended by the Ganges and the moon; the lord of Kāsi; the subduer of the flood of pollution that distinguishes this sinful age; a tree of Paradise to yield fruits of prosperity; the ever adorable Lord of Pārvati; the store-house of good qualities; the vanquisher of Love.
May Sambhu, who rewards the saints with eternal beatitude, difficult even for them to obtain, and who punishes the guilty; may that same Sankara grant me prosperity.
What! Disgrace my family by acting as his ambassador, whose feet Siva and Brahma and all the gods and saints desire to serve: your heart should burst asunder for entertaining such an idea. When he heard the monkey’s fierce rejoinder, Bavan glared at him and cried: “Wretch, I suffer all your abuse because I understand the maxims of state-craft and religion.” Said the monkey: “I have heard of the piety and virtue you showed in stealing away another man’s wife; and how you were so good and patient that you did not drown yourself at the sight of your messengers and watchmen, and from pious motives forgave the wrong when you saw your sister with her nose and ears cut off. Your piety and virtue are renowned throughout the world; I am most fortunate in being able to see you.”
May Sambhu, who rewards the saints with eternal beatitude, difficult even for them to obtain, and who punishes the guilty; may that same Sankara grant me prosperity.
What! Disgrace my family by acting as his ambassador, whose feet Siva and Brahma and all the gods and saints desire to serve: your heart should burst asunder for entertaining such an idea. When he heard the monkey’s fierce rejoinder, Bavan glared at him and cried: “Wretch, I suffer all your abuse because I understand the maxims of state-craft and religion.” Said the monkey: “I have heard of the piety and virtue you showed in stealing away another man’s wife; and how you were so good and patient that you did not drown yourself at the sight of your messengers and watchmen, and from pious motives forgave the wrong when you saw your sister with her nose and ears cut off. Your piety and virtue are renowned throughout the world; I am most fortunate in being able to see you.”
Dohâ 22.
“Prate no more, you stupid brute, but look at my arms, you impudent monkey, very Bahus as they have proved to eclipse the full-moon-like might of the Lokpâls: while Sambhu and Kailas in the palm of my lotus hand were but as the stately swan in the heavenly lake.”
Chaupâi.
Hearken, Angad; tell me what champion there is in all your army who is a match for me. Your lord has lost strength through pining for his bride; his younger brother too is all sad and forlorn; you and Sugriva are each the curse of your family; while my brother is an utter coward. Your counsellor, Jâmhavân, is so stricken in years that he can no longer enter the field of battle. Nala and Nila are good architects, and there is one monkey, no doubt, of exceptional strength, he who came first and set fire to the city.” On hearing this Angad replied: “Tell me the truth now, O demon king; is it a fact that a monkey burnt down your city? A poor little monkey set Bâvan’s capital on fire! Who, on hearing this, could believe it true? He, Râvan, whom you extol as so distinguished a champion, is only one of Sugriva’s inferior runners. He is a good one to go, but no fighter: we only sent him to get news.”
“Prate no more, you stupid brute, but look at my arms, you impudent monkey, very Bahus as they have proved to eclipse the full-moon-like might of the Lokpâls: while Sambhu and Kailas in the palm of my lotus hand were but as the stately swan in the heavenly lake.”
Chaupâi.
Hearken, Angad; tell me what champion there is in all your army who is a match for me. Your lord has lost strength through pining for his bride; his younger brother too is all sad and forlorn; you and Sugriva are each the curse of your family; while my brother is an utter coward. Your counsellor, Jâmhavân, is so stricken in years that he can no longer enter the field of battle. Nala and Nila are good architects, and there is one monkey, no doubt, of exceptional strength, he who came first and set fire to the city.” On hearing this Angad replied: “Tell me the truth now, O demon king; is it a fact that a monkey burnt down your city? A poor little monkey set Bâvan’s capital on fire! Who, on hearing this, could believe it true? He, Râvan, whom you extol as so distinguished a champion, is only one of Sugriva’s inferior runners. He is a good one to go, but no fighter: we only sent him to get news.”
Dohâ 23.
Is it true that a monkey set fire to the city without any order from his lord? This is why he did not go back to Sugriva, but kept himself out of sight for fear. All that you have said, Bâvan, is quite true, and I am not in the least angry at hearing it: there is not any one in our army who would be a fair match for you. Take your friends and enemies from among your equals is a good sound maxim: if a lion kills a frog, who thinks it a fine deed? Though it is no glory to Râma to kill you, however great your offence, still, mark me, Râvan, the fury of the Kshatriya clan is hard to withstand.” The monkey foe set his heart on fire with the arrows of speech shot forth from the bow of sarcastic eloquence, and it was, so to speak, only with a pair of pincers that the dauntless Râvan could get out a rejoinder. At last he laughed and cried: “A monkey has at all events one good quality; he will do anything to serve the man who feeds him.”
Chaupâi.
Is it true that a monkey set fire to the city without any order from his lord? This is why he did not go back to Sugriva, but kept himself out of sight for fear. All that you have said, Bâvan, is quite true, and I am not in the least angry at hearing it: there is not any one in our army who would be a fair match for you. Take your friends and enemies from among your equals is a good sound maxim: if a lion kills a frog, who thinks it a fine deed? Though it is no glory to Râma to kill you, however great your offence, still, mark me, Râvan, the fury of the Kshatriya clan is hard to withstand.” The monkey foe set his heart on fire with the arrows of speech shot forth from the bow of sarcastic eloquence, and it was, so to speak, only with a pair of pincers that the dauntless Râvan could get out a rejoinder. At last he laughed and cried: “A monkey has at all events one good quality; he will do anything to serve the man who feeds him.”
Chaupâi.
Bravo for a monkey who regardless of shame skips up and down in his master’s service; dancing and jumping about to amuse the people, he does his duty by his employer right well. All of your race, Angad, are devoted to their lord; it is quite natural for you to speak of your master’s good qualities in the way you do. But I am too sagacious in appreciating merit to pay any attention to your insolent tirade.” Said the monkey: “Hanumân gave me a very true account of your generosity. Though he had laid waste your garden, killed your son and set fire to your city, still you would not do him any harm. It was in reliance upon your magnanimity, Bâvan, that I have been thus outspoken. Now that I am here, I see that whatever a monkey may say will neither put you to shame nor excite you to anger or resentment.” “Your cleverness, monkey, is so great that it might well be the death of your father.” So cried the Ten-headed and burst into a laugh. “If I killed my father, it just now occurs to me that I shall next kill you. It is only because I remember Bali’s honour and renown that I do not slay you, you wretched braggart. Come, Bâvan, tell me how many Bâvans there are in the world, or listen while I tell you how many I have heard of. One went down into hell to conquer Bali, where the children tied him up in the stable and made sport of him and buffeted him, till Bali took pity on him and let him go. Another again was discovered by Sahasra-bâhu, who ran and secured him as a curiosity and took him home for a show, till Saint Pulastya came and rescued him.”
Dohâ 24.
Another, as I am ashamed to say, was held tight under Bali’s arm. Do not be angry, Bâvan, but tell me the truth, which of all these are you?”
Chaupâi.
“Hearken, fool; I am that mighty Râvan, the action of whose arms is well-known by Kailas and his valour by Siva; for him I worshipped not with
flowers bat with my own hands, which I took off with my own hands times innumerable, when I worshipped Tripurâri. The guardians of the eight quarters know the might of my arms; in their heart, you fool, is sore distress to-day. The elephants who support the world learnt also the hardness of my chest whenever I closed with them in conflict; their mighty tusks, though never broken before, snapped off like radishes when they struck against my front. As I moved, earth quivered like a small boat when a wild elephant steps into it. I am that glorious and renowned Râvan; have you no ears to hear, you lying chatterer?
Dohâ 25.
This is the Râvan of whom you make light while you exalt a mere man. Ah vile monkey, infamous wretch, are you at last beginning to understand?”
Chaupâi.
On hearing this, Angad replied indignantly: “Give over talking, you pitiful boaster. He, whose axe was like a fire to consume Sahasra-bâhu’s mighty forest of arms; whose sword was like the tide of the salt sea, in which kings innumerable have been drowned time after time; and at the sight of whose majesty every one took to flight, how can he be accounted a man, you wretched Râvan? How can Râma be a mere man, you arrogant fool? Is Kâma-deva an ordinary archer; is the Ganges merely a river; the cow of plenty only a cow; the tree of Paradise only a tree; is charity only so much grain? Is ambrosia any liquid; Garur a mere bird; Seshnâg a serpent, and the philosopher’s stone, Râvan, only a stone? Hearken, O dull of understanding; which is the greater prize, a place in Vaikunth or absolute faith in Râma?
Another, as I am ashamed to say, was held tight under Bali’s arm. Do not be angry, Bâvan, but tell me the truth, which of all these are you?”
Chaupâi.
“Hearken, fool; I am that mighty Râvan, the action of whose arms is well-known by Kailas and his valour by Siva; for him I worshipped not with
flowers bat with my own hands, which I took off with my own hands times innumerable, when I worshipped Tripurâri. The guardians of the eight quarters know the might of my arms; in their heart, you fool, is sore distress to-day. The elephants who support the world learnt also the hardness of my chest whenever I closed with them in conflict; their mighty tusks, though never broken before, snapped off like radishes when they struck against my front. As I moved, earth quivered like a small boat when a wild elephant steps into it. I am that glorious and renowned Râvan; have you no ears to hear, you lying chatterer?
Dohâ 25.
This is the Râvan of whom you make light while you exalt a mere man. Ah vile monkey, infamous wretch, are you at last beginning to understand?”
Chaupâi.
On hearing this, Angad replied indignantly: “Give over talking, you pitiful boaster. He, whose axe was like a fire to consume Sahasra-bâhu’s mighty forest of arms; whose sword was like the tide of the salt sea, in which kings innumerable have been drowned time after time; and at the sight of whose majesty every one took to flight, how can he be accounted a man, you wretched Râvan? How can Râma be a mere man, you arrogant fool? Is Kâma-deva an ordinary archer; is the Ganges merely a river; the cow of plenty only a cow; the tree of Paradise only a tree; is charity only so much grain? Is ambrosia any liquid; Garur a mere bird; Seshnâg a serpent, and the philosopher’s stone, Râvan, only a stone? Hearken, O dull of understanding; which is the greater prize, a place in Vaikunth or absolute faith in Râma?
Dohâ 26.
Fool, how was it that the monkey Hanumân escaped, after trampling on the pride of you and your army, laying waste your garden, setting fire to your city and slaying your son?
Chaupâi.
Hearken, Râvan; have done with conceit and worship Râma the all-merciful. If you are foolish enough to provoke Râma, neither Brahma nor Rudra has the power to protect you. Do not puff yourself out with vain delusions; if you fight against Râma, this will be your fate: smitten by Râma’s arrows, your many heads will fall to the ground, in front of the monkeys, and they and the bears will play polo with them, as if they were so many balls. When Râma waxes wrath in battle, His arrows fly quick and terrible. Will you then persist in your vain boasting and not rather be wise and adore His clemency?” On hearing these words Râvan flared up afresh, like a blazing fire upon which butter has been cast.
Dohâ 27.
“Have you never heard of my brother Kumbhakarna and my renowned son Indrajit and of my own valour, by which I have conquered the whole universe?
Chaupâi.
Fool, with the help of his monkey friends he has bridged the sea, but what is that to be proud of? Birds innumerable traverse the ocean, yet they are no heroes. Now mark me, monkey: my arms are like a sea filled with a flood of strength, beneath which many gods, men and heroes have been drowned. Who is there so strong that he can overcome these twenty unfathomable and boundless oceans? I even made the Dig-pâls draw water for me. You have told me, poor wretch, of your king’s renown, but if your lord is so valiant in battle as one would judge from the way in which you harp on his achievements, then why does he send an ambassador? Are you not ashamed to make terms with an enemy? Look at my arms, which could treat Mount Kailâs as a mere churning-stick, and then, foolish monkey, sing, if you will, the praises of your lord.
Fool, how was it that the monkey Hanumân escaped, after trampling on the pride of you and your army, laying waste your garden, setting fire to your city and slaying your son?
Chaupâi.
Hearken, Râvan; have done with conceit and worship Râma the all-merciful. If you are foolish enough to provoke Râma, neither Brahma nor Rudra has the power to protect you. Do not puff yourself out with vain delusions; if you fight against Râma, this will be your fate: smitten by Râma’s arrows, your many heads will fall to the ground, in front of the monkeys, and they and the bears will play polo with them, as if they were so many balls. When Râma waxes wrath in battle, His arrows fly quick and terrible. Will you then persist in your vain boasting and not rather be wise and adore His clemency?” On hearing these words Râvan flared up afresh, like a blazing fire upon which butter has been cast.
Dohâ 27.
“Have you never heard of my brother Kumbhakarna and my renowned son Indrajit and of my own valour, by which I have conquered the whole universe?
Chaupâi.
Fool, with the help of his monkey friends he has bridged the sea, but what is that to be proud of? Birds innumerable traverse the ocean, yet they are no heroes. Now mark me, monkey: my arms are like a sea filled with a flood of strength, beneath which many gods, men and heroes have been drowned. Who is there so strong that he can overcome these twenty unfathomable and boundless oceans? I even made the Dig-pâls draw water for me. You have told me, poor wretch, of your king’s renown, but if your lord is so valiant in battle as one would judge from the way in which you harp on his achievements, then why does he send an ambassador? Are you not ashamed to make terms with an enemy? Look at my arms, which could treat Mount Kailâs as a mere churning-stick, and then, foolish monkey, sing, if you will, the praises of your lord.
Dohâ 28.
What hero is there equal to Râvan, who, with his own hands, cut off his own heads, and delighted to cast them into the fire, time after time, as Siva is witness.
Chaupâi.
When I saw the skull burning, with the letters traced on my forehead by the Creator, and read that my death was to be at the hands of a man, I laughed, for I knew the divine prophecy to be untrue. When I remember this, I have no fear: Brahma must have written when he was old and stupid. Are you not then ashamed, you fool, to keep boasting of any warrior’s strength as compared with mine?” Angad replied: “There is no one in the whole world, Râvan, so shamefaced as you. Your modesty is so innate that you never speak of your own merits. You are always thinking of the old story of your heads and the mountain, and that is the reason why you tell it me twenty times over. Bury deep in your heart the remembrance of that strength of arm by which you overcame Sahasra-bâhu and Bali and Bâli; but hearken, O dull of soul, make the business complete; if a man who cuts off his head is a hero, what a hero a juggler must be, who with his own hands cuts his whole body to pieces.
What hero is there equal to Râvan, who, with his own hands, cut off his own heads, and delighted to cast them into the fire, time after time, as Siva is witness.
Chaupâi.
When I saw the skull burning, with the letters traced on my forehead by the Creator, and read that my death was to be at the hands of a man, I laughed, for I knew the divine prophecy to be untrue. When I remember this, I have no fear: Brahma must have written when he was old and stupid. Are you not then ashamed, you fool, to keep boasting of any warrior’s strength as compared with mine?” Angad replied: “There is no one in the whole world, Râvan, so shamefaced as you. Your modesty is so innate that you never speak of your own merits. You are always thinking of the old story of your heads and the mountain, and that is the reason why you tell it me twenty times over. Bury deep in your heart the remembrance of that strength of arm by which you overcame Sahasra-bâhu and Bali and Bâli; but hearken, O dull of soul, make the business complete; if a man who cuts off his head is a hero, what a hero a juggler must be, who with his own hands cuts his whole body to pieces.
Dohâ 29.
A moth is infatuated enough to burn itself to death, and an ass bears any burden, but they are not called heroes: look, stupid, and understand.
Chaupâi.
Boast no more in arrogant speech, but listen modestly to my advice. I have not come, Râvan, as an envoy to propose terms, but Raghubir has sent me from another motive. In his mercy he has said again and again, “It is no honour for a lion to kill a jackal.” Pondering at heart on my lord’s words, I have submitted, wretch, to your injurious speech; otherwise, I would have broken your head and carried off Sita, the fair bride. I know all about your strength, vile enemy of heaven, how in Hari’s absence you robbed him of his wife. Your pride, demon king, is great, but I am the messenger of Rama’s servants, and if I were not afraid of displeasing him, I would as soon as look at you make you a perfect spectacle.
Dohâ 30.
After dashing you to the ground and routing your army and destroying your city, I would have carried off Sita with all the ladies of your household.
Chaupâi.
If I had done so, it would still be no great matter; there is no valour shown in slaying the slain. Now an outcast, a man mad with lust, a miser, a destitute beggar, a man in disgrace, a man in extreme old age, one who is always ill or always in a passion, a rebel against Vishnu, a hater of religion and the saints, a man who thinks only of his own body, a scandal-monger and a man thoroughly vicious, these twelve, even while they live, are no better than corpses. On this account, wretch, I do not slay you, but do not provoke me further.” On hearing this, the demon king cried in a fury: “Though small of stature, you have spoken big words. O foolish monkey, he of whose might you vaunt so fiercely has no might, or sense, or glory at all.
A moth is infatuated enough to burn itself to death, and an ass bears any burden, but they are not called heroes: look, stupid, and understand.
Chaupâi.
Boast no more in arrogant speech, but listen modestly to my advice. I have not come, Râvan, as an envoy to propose terms, but Raghubir has sent me from another motive. In his mercy he has said again and again, “It is no honour for a lion to kill a jackal.” Pondering at heart on my lord’s words, I have submitted, wretch, to your injurious speech; otherwise, I would have broken your head and carried off Sita, the fair bride. I know all about your strength, vile enemy of heaven, how in Hari’s absence you robbed him of his wife. Your pride, demon king, is great, but I am the messenger of Rama’s servants, and if I were not afraid of displeasing him, I would as soon as look at you make you a perfect spectacle.
Dohâ 30.
After dashing you to the ground and routing your army and destroying your city, I would have carried off Sita with all the ladies of your household.
Chaupâi.
If I had done so, it would still be no great matter; there is no valour shown in slaying the slain. Now an outcast, a man mad with lust, a miser, a destitute beggar, a man in disgrace, a man in extreme old age, one who is always ill or always in a passion, a rebel against Vishnu, a hater of religion and the saints, a man who thinks only of his own body, a scandal-monger and a man thoroughly vicious, these twelve, even while they live, are no better than corpses. On this account, wretch, I do not slay you, but do not provoke me further.” On hearing this, the demon king cried in a fury: “Though small of stature, you have spoken big words. O foolish monkey, he of whose might you vaunt so fiercely has no might, or sense, or glory at all.
Dohâ 31.
Seeing him to be of no worth or dignity, his father banished him, and this is a sorrow to him, as also is the loss of his wife; while his terror of me oppresses him night and day. Proud as you are of his might, there are thousands of men like him, whom my demons devour every day and night. Cease your perverseness, fool, and come to your senses.”
Chaupâi
When he thus abused Râma, the monkey prince waxed wroth. Those who open their ears to attacks upon Hari and Hara are as guilty as if they had killed a cow. The huge monkey gnashed his teeth and, taking him in his two arms, hurled him furiously to the ground. The earth shook, the assembly quaked and took to flight as if driven by a hurricane of terror. Râvan raised himself from his fall and sat up, but his magnificent diadems had fallen to the ground; part he took and rearranged on his heads, part Angad despatched to his lord. When the monkeys saw the crowns coming, they ran away, crying, “Good God, here are stars falling in the daytime, or Râvan in his fury has sent forth four thunderbolts that come with rushing speed.” The Lord smiled and said: “Fear not at heart; here is no star, nor sword, nor either Ketu or Rahu; those are Râvan’s crowns, which come as despatched by the son of Bali.”
Seeing him to be of no worth or dignity, his father banished him, and this is a sorrow to him, as also is the loss of his wife; while his terror of me oppresses him night and day. Proud as you are of his might, there are thousands of men like him, whom my demons devour every day and night. Cease your perverseness, fool, and come to your senses.”
Chaupâi
When he thus abused Râma, the monkey prince waxed wroth. Those who open their ears to attacks upon Hari and Hara are as guilty as if they had killed a cow. The huge monkey gnashed his teeth and, taking him in his two arms, hurled him furiously to the ground. The earth shook, the assembly quaked and took to flight as if driven by a hurricane of terror. Râvan raised himself from his fall and sat up, but his magnificent diadems had fallen to the ground; part he took and rearranged on his heads, part Angad despatched to his lord. When the monkeys saw the crowns coming, they ran away, crying, “Good God, here are stars falling in the daytime, or Râvan in his fury has sent forth four thunderbolts that come with rushing speed.” The Lord smiled and said: “Fear not at heart; here is no star, nor sword, nor either Ketu or Rahu; those are Râvan’s crowns, which come as despatched by the son of Bali.”
Dohâ 32.
The Son of the Wind sprang forward and caught them in his hand and brought and laid them at his lord’s feet: the bears and monkeys gazed in astonishment at the sight, for their brilliancy was like that of the sun. On the other hand, Râvan in his wrath cried furiously to one and all, “Seize the monkey, seize him and kill him.” Angad heard and smiled.
Chaupâi
“In like manner sally forth in haste, all ye mighty men, and devour every bear and monkey wherever ye find one. Go and leave not a single monkey in the whole world, but take alive the two hermit brothers.” The prince replied indignantly: “Are you not ashamed to bluster like this? Cut your throat and die, you reckless destroyer of your own family; does not your heart crack at the sight of his power? Ah, villainous woman-stealer, compound of all that is mean and impure, sensual dullard! Though at death’s door, you still babble abuse; Fate has you in his toils, wretched cannibal. Hereafter you shall reap the fruit of this, when the bears and monkeys belabour you: but when you thus speak of Râma as a man, I wonder your proud tongue does not drop off; and beyond a doubt it will drop off to the ground, head and all, in the battle.
The Son of the Wind sprang forward and caught them in his hand and brought and laid them at his lord’s feet: the bears and monkeys gazed in astonishment at the sight, for their brilliancy was like that of the sun. On the other hand, Râvan in his wrath cried furiously to one and all, “Seize the monkey, seize him and kill him.” Angad heard and smiled.
Chaupâi
“In like manner sally forth in haste, all ye mighty men, and devour every bear and monkey wherever ye find one. Go and leave not a single monkey in the whole world, but take alive the two hermit brothers.” The prince replied indignantly: “Are you not ashamed to bluster like this? Cut your throat and die, you reckless destroyer of your own family; does not your heart crack at the sight of his power? Ah, villainous woman-stealer, compound of all that is mean and impure, sensual dullard! Though at death’s door, you still babble abuse; Fate has you in his toils, wretched cannibal. Hereafter you shall reap the fruit of this, when the bears and monkeys belabour you: but when you thus speak of Râma as a man, I wonder your proud tongue does not drop off; and beyond a doubt it will drop off to the ground, head and all, in the battle.
Sorathâ 4.
How can He be a mere man, Râvan, who slew Bâli with a single arrow? You are blind with all Your twenty eyes; a curse on your birth, you base-born fool. Râma’s arrows are all athirst to drink your blood; for fear of Him I spare you, insolent boaster, contemptible demon.
Chaupâi
I am quite able to smash Your jaws, but Râma has given Me no order; otherwise I am so enraged that I would cleave asunder Your ten heads and take up Lankâ and drop it in the sea. Your Lankâ is like a fig on a gulur tree, and You the unsuspecting insect that lives in it. I, like a monkey, would lose no time in eating the fruit, but the gracious Râma has given Me no order.” On hearing this simile, Râvan smiled: “Fool, where did you learn to tell such lies? Bâli never blustered like this; intercourse with the hermits has made you such a boaster.” “If I do not tear out your ten tongues, Twenty-arms, of a truth, I am a mere boaster.” As he thought on Râma’s power, the monkey waxed wroth; he planted his foot firm and offered the assembly this wager: “If you can stir my foot, you wretch, Râma will take to flight and I lose Sîtâ.” “Hearken, champions all,” cried Râvan, “seize this monkey by the leg and throw him to the ground.” Indrajit and the other men of valour in their different ranks all rose with joy, but though they fell upon him with their full strength and with many a trick, his foot did not stir, and they bowed their heads and sat down again. Again the enemy of the gods rose to the contest; but the monkey’s foot moved no more, Gârur, than the standard of selfishness planted in the soul of a hypocrite, which there is no shaking.
How can He be a mere man, Râvan, who slew Bâli with a single arrow? You are blind with all Your twenty eyes; a curse on your birth, you base-born fool. Râma’s arrows are all athirst to drink your blood; for fear of Him I spare you, insolent boaster, contemptible demon.
Chaupâi
I am quite able to smash Your jaws, but Râma has given Me no order; otherwise I am so enraged that I would cleave asunder Your ten heads and take up Lankâ and drop it in the sea. Your Lankâ is like a fig on a gulur tree, and You the unsuspecting insect that lives in it. I, like a monkey, would lose no time in eating the fruit, but the gracious Râma has given Me no order.” On hearing this simile, Râvan smiled: “Fool, where did you learn to tell such lies? Bâli never blustered like this; intercourse with the hermits has made you such a boaster.” “If I do not tear out your ten tongues, Twenty-arms, of a truth, I am a mere boaster.” As he thought on Râma’s power, the monkey waxed wroth; he planted his foot firm and offered the assembly this wager: “If you can stir my foot, you wretch, Râma will take to flight and I lose Sîtâ.” “Hearken, champions all,” cried Râvan, “seize this monkey by the leg and throw him to the ground.” Indrajit and the other men of valour in their different ranks all rose with joy, but though they fell upon him with their full strength and with many a trick, his foot did not stir, and they bowed their heads and sat down again. Again the enemy of the gods rose to the contest; but the monkey’s foot moved no more, Gârur, than the standard of selfishness planted in the soul of a hypocrite, which there is no shaking.
Dohâ 33.
Millions of warriors, Meghnâd’s peers, arose with joy and essayed the wrestle; but the monkey’s foot did not stir, and they bowed the head and sat down again. The pride of the enemy was broken when they saw that the monkey’s foot was moved from the ground as little as the soul of a saint abandons the maxims of morality, though assailed by a thousand difficulties.
Chaupâi,
When they saw the monkey’s strength, they were all discomforted at heart, till he himself arose to try the test. On his grasping his foot, Bâli’s son cried: “There is no safety in clinging to my feet? Why, fool, do you not go and clasp Râma’s feet?” On hearing this, he turned away full sorry at heart, robbed of all his dignity, and his majesty clean gone from him, as when the moon shows faintly in the day-time. With bowed head he took his seat on his throne, like one despoiled of all his possessions. How can there be any rest for an enemy of Râma, the soul of the world, the lord of life? O Umâ, the play of Râma’s eyebrows now creates a universe and now again destroys it. He makes a blade of grass into a thunderbolt and again a thunderbolt into a blade of grass; how could his messenger fail in his challenge? Again the monkey urged upon him sound advice in every possible way; but he would not listen; his time had drawn near. When he had sufficiently trampled on the pride of the enemy and exalted his master’s fame, the son of king Bâli left, saying, “Why should I trouble myself any more about you now; I shall have the pleasure of killing you on the field.” Râvan was despondent from the very first when he heard that the monkey had killed his son: but the demons, when they witnessed Angad’s challenge, were all still more disturbed.
Millions of warriors, Meghnâd’s peers, arose with joy and essayed the wrestle; but the monkey’s foot did not stir, and they bowed the head and sat down again. The pride of the enemy was broken when they saw that the monkey’s foot was moved from the ground as little as the soul of a saint abandons the maxims of morality, though assailed by a thousand difficulties.
Chaupâi,
When they saw the monkey’s strength, they were all discomforted at heart, till he himself arose to try the test. On his grasping his foot, Bâli’s son cried: “There is no safety in clinging to my feet? Why, fool, do you not go and clasp Râma’s feet?” On hearing this, he turned away full sorry at heart, robbed of all his dignity, and his majesty clean gone from him, as when the moon shows faintly in the day-time. With bowed head he took his seat on his throne, like one despoiled of all his possessions. How can there be any rest for an enemy of Râma, the soul of the world, the lord of life? O Umâ, the play of Râma’s eyebrows now creates a universe and now again destroys it. He makes a blade of grass into a thunderbolt and again a thunderbolt into a blade of grass; how could his messenger fail in his challenge? Again the monkey urged upon him sound advice in every possible way; but he would not listen; his time had drawn near. When he had sufficiently trampled on the pride of the enemy and exalted his master’s fame, the son of king Bâli left, saying, “Why should I trouble myself any more about you now; I shall have the pleasure of killing you on the field.” Râvan was despondent from the very first when he heard that the monkey had killed his son: but the demons, when they witnessed Angad’s challenge, were all still more disturbed.
Dohâ 34.
Having crushed the power of the enemy, the mighty monkey, the son of Bâli, his body quivering with emotion and his eyes full of tears, clasped in delight Râma’s lotus feet. When he saw it was evening, Râvan returned sadly to the palace, where Mandodarî again spoke and advised him:
Chaupâi
“Reflect, my husband, and abandon ill counsel; it is not well for you to fight against Râma. His younger brother drew a little line, and even this you could not cross: such is your strength? My beloved, you will never conquer him in battle, whose simple messenger has done such great acts. Having lightly leaped across the sea, the monkey like a dauntless lion entered your Lankâ, killed your watchmen, laid waste your garden, slew Aksha as soon as he looked at him, and then set fire to the whole of the city and reduced it to ashes. What place is now left you for pride of power? Cease, my spouse, from idle vaunts and take my words a little to heart. Do not suppose that Râma is a mere earthly king, but recognize in him the Lord of all animate and inanimate creation, of infinite power. Mâricha confessed the force of his arrows; you, miserable wretch, regard not his voice. Janak’s court was crowded with kings, you too were there in all your valour; but it was he who broke the bow and wedded Sîtâ? Why did you not conquer him in battle then? The son of Indra felt a little of his might when he had his life spared but lost one of his eyes; and you have yourself seen Sûrpanakhâ’s condition: yet still your heart continues absolutely uncowed.
Having crushed the power of the enemy, the mighty monkey, the son of Bâli, his body quivering with emotion and his eyes full of tears, clasped in delight Râma’s lotus feet. When he saw it was evening, Râvan returned sadly to the palace, where Mandodarî again spoke and advised him:
Chaupâi
“Reflect, my husband, and abandon ill counsel; it is not well for you to fight against Râma. His younger brother drew a little line, and even this you could not cross: such is your strength? My beloved, you will never conquer him in battle, whose simple messenger has done such great acts. Having lightly leaped across the sea, the monkey like a dauntless lion entered your Lankâ, killed your watchmen, laid waste your garden, slew Aksha as soon as he looked at him, and then set fire to the whole of the city and reduced it to ashes. What place is now left you for pride of power? Cease, my spouse, from idle vaunts and take my words a little to heart. Do not suppose that Râma is a mere earthly king, but recognize in him the Lord of all animate and inanimate creation, of infinite power. Mâricha confessed the force of his arrows; you, miserable wretch, regard not his voice. Janak’s court was crowded with kings, you too were there in all your valour; but it was he who broke the bow and wedded Sîtâ? Why did you not conquer him in battle then? The son of Indra felt a little of his might when he had his life spared but lost one of his eyes; and you have yourself seen Sûrpanakhâ’s condition: yet still your heart continues absolutely uncowed.
Dohâ 35.
Know, Râvan, that this is he, who slew Virâdha and Khara and Pushan; who with the greatest ease killed Kabandha and disposed of Bâli with a single arrow;
Chaupâî
Who bridged the ocean as a mere pastime and with all his army crossed over to Suvela. But the Glory of the Solar race is full of compassion, and out of regard to You sent first an envoy; and even he in the very midst of your court trampled on your power, like a lion let loose upon a herd of elephants. Seeing that Angad and Hanumân are His servants, such brave and lusty leaders of the fray, how can you, my spouse, persist in calling Him a man? You are bewildered by the intoxication of pride and self-conceit. O my husband, when the quarrel is against Râma, fate prevents reason from working in the soul. It is not with uplifted club that fate strikes, but by robbing a man of his religion, his strength, and his faculty of reason. Whenever, Sir, a man's fate is near at hand, he becomes infatuated, as you are now.
Dohâ 36.
He has slain your two sons and set Your city on fire; to-day, O my husband, let Him have your answer. O my Lord, adore the mercy of Râma and thus win for yourself the highest renown.
Know, Râvan, that this is he, who slew Virâdha and Khara and Pushan; who with the greatest ease killed Kabandha and disposed of Bâli with a single arrow;
Chaupâî
Who bridged the ocean as a mere pastime and with all his army crossed over to Suvela. But the Glory of the Solar race is full of compassion, and out of regard to You sent first an envoy; and even he in the very midst of your court trampled on your power, like a lion let loose upon a herd of elephants. Seeing that Angad and Hanumân are His servants, such brave and lusty leaders of the fray, how can you, my spouse, persist in calling Him a man? You are bewildered by the intoxication of pride and self-conceit. O my husband, when the quarrel is against Râma, fate prevents reason from working in the soul. It is not with uplifted club that fate strikes, but by robbing a man of his religion, his strength, and his faculty of reason. Whenever, Sir, a man's fate is near at hand, he becomes infatuated, as you are now.
Dohâ 36.
He has slain your two sons and set Your city on fire; to-day, O my husband, let Him have your answer. O my Lord, adore the mercy of Râma and thus win for yourself the highest renown.
Chaupâî
He heard out his wife's speech though it pierced like an arrow, and then arose and went into the council-chamber, for it was now dawn. As he took his seat on his throne, he swelled with excess of pride; all his terror was forgotten. On the other side, Râma summoned Angad, who came and bowed his head at his lotus feet, but he, with the utmost courtesy, seated him by his side and then said, with a smile, the gracious Kharâri: “O son of Bâli, I am full of curiosity; answer truly, my son, to what I ask you. Râvan is the chief of all the demon race, and the unbounded might of his arm is famous throughout the world—how then did you send me four of his crowns? Tell me, my son, by what device you secured them?” “Hearken, all-wise protector of the humble: they were not crowns, but the four prerogatives of a king—conciliation, concession, subjugation, and division, which, as the Vedas say, abide in a king’s soul. Having recognized the gracious feet of kingly polity and religion, they came of themselves to their sovereign.”
Dohâ 37.
Leaving the impious Râvan, the rebel against his lord, the death-doomed, his kingly prerogatives—mark me, monarch of Kosala—have come to you.”
On hearing this most ingenious fancy, the gracious Râma smiled, and the son of Bâli then proceeded to give him all the news from the fort.
He heard out his wife's speech though it pierced like an arrow, and then arose and went into the council-chamber, for it was now dawn. As he took his seat on his throne, he swelled with excess of pride; all his terror was forgotten. On the other side, Râma summoned Angad, who came and bowed his head at his lotus feet, but he, with the utmost courtesy, seated him by his side and then said, with a smile, the gracious Kharâri: “O son of Bâli, I am full of curiosity; answer truly, my son, to what I ask you. Râvan is the chief of all the demon race, and the unbounded might of his arm is famous throughout the world—how then did you send me four of his crowns? Tell me, my son, by what device you secured them?” “Hearken, all-wise protector of the humble: they were not crowns, but the four prerogatives of a king—conciliation, concession, subjugation, and division, which, as the Vedas say, abide in a king’s soul. Having recognized the gracious feet of kingly polity and religion, they came of themselves to their sovereign.”
Dohâ 37.
Leaving the impious Râvan, the rebel against his lord, the death-doomed, his kingly prerogatives—mark me, monarch of Kosala—have come to you.”
On hearing this most ingenious fancy, the gracious Râma smiled, and the son of Bâli then proceeded to give him all the news from the fort.
Chaupâî
When Râma had heard his report of the enemy, he called all his ministers to him. “Take counsel as to how we should attack the four great gates of Lankâ.” Then the king of the monkeys and the king of the bears and Vibhishan, with their hearts fixed on the Glory of the Solar race, took counsel and settled a plan and divided the monkey army into four companies. After exalting their lord’s power, they issued their orders; and the monkeys no sooner heard them than they rushed forward, roaring like lions. First, they bowed their heads with joy at Râma’s feet and then the heroes sallied forth, with peaks of mountains in their hands, roaring and leaping, bears and monkeys alike, and shouting “Glory to Raghubir, the sovereign of Kosala!” Though they knew that Lankâ was a most formidable stronghold, they went on undismayed, in the strength of their lord, spreading like a cloud over the whole horizon and with trumpets at their mouths making loud music.
Dohâ 38.
“Glory to Râma, glory to Lakshman, glory to the monkey chief, Sugriva!” such was the lion roar of the great and valiant monkeys and bears.
Chaupâî
Lankâ was full of the utmost confusion; but Râvan heard the noise with his wonted arrogance. “See the impudence of these monkeys,” he said with a smile and summoned his demon host. “These monkeys have come by the decree of Siva; my demons wanted a meal”—so saying the wretch burst into a loud laugh—“and God has provided them with one, without their going abroad to seek it. Sally forth in every direction, my warriors all, and seize these bears and monkeys and devour them.” O Uma, Râvan’s conceit was as great as that of the sandpiper, when it goes to sleep with its legs in the air. On receiving their orders, the demons sallied forth, armed with slings and mighty javelins, clubs, maces and trenchant axes, pikes, swords, bludgeons and masses of rock. Like foul carnivorous birds that swoop down upon a heap of rubies which they have espied, and after breaking their beaks upon them find out their mistake, so these man-eating monsters rushed forth in their folly.
When Râma had heard his report of the enemy, he called all his ministers to him. “Take counsel as to how we should attack the four great gates of Lankâ.” Then the king of the monkeys and the king of the bears and Vibhishan, with their hearts fixed on the Glory of the Solar race, took counsel and settled a plan and divided the monkey army into four companies. After exalting their lord’s power, they issued their orders; and the monkeys no sooner heard them than they rushed forward, roaring like lions. First, they bowed their heads with joy at Râma’s feet and then the heroes sallied forth, with peaks of mountains in their hands, roaring and leaping, bears and monkeys alike, and shouting “Glory to Raghubir, the sovereign of Kosala!” Though they knew that Lankâ was a most formidable stronghold, they went on undismayed, in the strength of their lord, spreading like a cloud over the whole horizon and with trumpets at their mouths making loud music.
Dohâ 38.
“Glory to Râma, glory to Lakshman, glory to the monkey chief, Sugriva!” such was the lion roar of the great and valiant monkeys and bears.
Chaupâî
Lankâ was full of the utmost confusion; but Râvan heard the noise with his wonted arrogance. “See the impudence of these monkeys,” he said with a smile and summoned his demon host. “These monkeys have come by the decree of Siva; my demons wanted a meal”—so saying the wretch burst into a loud laugh—“and God has provided them with one, without their going abroad to seek it. Sally forth in every direction, my warriors all, and seize these bears and monkeys and devour them.” O Uma, Râvan’s conceit was as great as that of the sandpiper, when it goes to sleep with its legs in the air. On receiving their orders, the demons sallied forth, armed with slings and mighty javelins, clubs, maces and trenchant axes, pikes, swords, bludgeons and masses of rock. Like foul carnivorous birds that swoop down upon a heap of rubies which they have espied, and after breaking their beaks upon them find out their mistake, so these man-eating monsters rushed forth in their folly.
Dohâ 39.
Taking bow and arrows and weapons of every description, myriads upon myriads of the stoutest and most valiant demons climbed up to the battlements of the fort.
Chaupâî
The battlements of the fort looked like the peaks of Meru amidst dense clouds. Drums and other instruments of music sounded for the fray, and the soul of the warriors was stirred by their crash. The trumpets and clarions brayed so fiercely that even a coward on hearing them would forget his fear. The throng of monkeys could not be seen for the mighty stature of the warrior bears. They rush on, making no account of the most precipitous passes, but tearing down the rocks and so clearing a way for themselves. Grinding their teeth and biting their lips in their excess of fury, myriads of warriors shout aloud, there calling upon Ravan and here upon Rama, “Glory and victory, the battle has begun.” If the demons cast down any mountain crag, the monkeys with a bound would seize it and hurl it back.
Chhand 1.
The furious monkeys and bears lay hold of the mountain crags and hurl them against the fort. They join in closer struggle, seizing an antagonist by one leg and dashing him to the ground, and if he takes to flight challenging him again to the combat. With a bold dash and a vigorous spring they bound up the heights of the fort; and every palace, into which the bears and monkeys penetrated, resounds with songs in Rama’s praise.
Taking bow and arrows and weapons of every description, myriads upon myriads of the stoutest and most valiant demons climbed up to the battlements of the fort.
Chaupâî
The battlements of the fort looked like the peaks of Meru amidst dense clouds. Drums and other instruments of music sounded for the fray, and the soul of the warriors was stirred by their crash. The trumpets and clarions brayed so fiercely that even a coward on hearing them would forget his fear. The throng of monkeys could not be seen for the mighty stature of the warrior bears. They rush on, making no account of the most precipitous passes, but tearing down the rocks and so clearing a way for themselves. Grinding their teeth and biting their lips in their excess of fury, myriads of warriors shout aloud, there calling upon Ravan and here upon Rama, “Glory and victory, the battle has begun.” If the demons cast down any mountain crag, the monkeys with a bound would seize it and hurl it back.
Chhand 1.
The furious monkeys and bears lay hold of the mountain crags and hurl them against the fort. They join in closer struggle, seizing an antagonist by one leg and dashing him to the ground, and if he takes to flight challenging him again to the combat. With a bold dash and a vigorous spring they bound up the heights of the fort; and every palace, into which the bears and monkeys penetrated, resounds with songs in Rama’s praise.
Dohā 40.
Again, taking each a demon in his clutch, the monkeys ran off and then dropped to the ground so as to crush their prey beneath them.
Chaupāī.
Strong in the power of Rama, the monkey host overcame the throng of demon warriors, and having climbed the fort, made it ring all over with shouts of glory to Raghubir, the son of majesty! The demons fled headlong, like thunderclouds driven by a strong wind. There was a grievous wailing throughout the city, children crying and women in dire distress. All agreed in abusing Ravan the king, who had thus invited ruin. When he heard that his forces had been routed, the lord of Lanka indignantly rallied his captains: “If I hear of anyone turning his back in battle, I will slay him myself with my terrible sword. After devouring all my substance and feasting as you pleased, you now on the field of battle think of nothing but your own safety.” On hearing these stern words, the chiefs were all frightened and ashamed. Working themselves into a fury they sallied forth again crying: “It is the glory of a warrior to die with his face to the foe,” and all desire to live entirely left them.
Dohā 41.
Arming themselves with weapons of every description, the gallant chiefs pressed forward to the fray, challenging the enemy one after the other, and so wielding mace and javelin that they sorely discomfited the bears and monkeys.
Again, taking each a demon in his clutch, the monkeys ran off and then dropped to the ground so as to crush their prey beneath them.
Chaupāī.
Strong in the power of Rama, the monkey host overcame the throng of demon warriors, and having climbed the fort, made it ring all over with shouts of glory to Raghubir, the son of majesty! The demons fled headlong, like thunderclouds driven by a strong wind. There was a grievous wailing throughout the city, children crying and women in dire distress. All agreed in abusing Ravan the king, who had thus invited ruin. When he heard that his forces had been routed, the lord of Lanka indignantly rallied his captains: “If I hear of anyone turning his back in battle, I will slay him myself with my terrible sword. After devouring all my substance and feasting as you pleased, you now on the field of battle think of nothing but your own safety.” On hearing these stern words, the chiefs were all frightened and ashamed. Working themselves into a fury they sallied forth again crying: “It is the glory of a warrior to die with his face to the foe,” and all desire to live entirely left them.
Dohā 41.
Arming themselves with weapons of every description, the gallant chiefs pressed forward to the fray, challenging the enemy one after the other, and so wielding mace and javelin that they sorely discomfited the bears and monkeys.
Chaupāī.
Overcome with terror, the monkeys began to fly, although, Lord, they had already won the victory. Said one: “Where are Angad and Hanuman? Where Nala and Nila and the stalwart Dwivid?” Hanuman heard that his troops were in distress, but the hero was kept at the western gate. There Meghnad led the defence, nor was it possible to force the gate, so great was its strength. Then the Son of the Wind waxed exceeding wrath of soul; with a terrible roar, as though the end of the world had come, the hero made a bound and sprang upon the top of Lanka; then seizing a rock he rushed upon Meghnad, shattered his chariot, hurled its driver to the ground, and struck the prince himself with his foot in the chest. Another charioteer, seeing him senseless, threw him on to his car and brought him home with speed.
Dohā 42.
When Angad heard that Hanuman had made his way into the fort alone, he too, the adventurous warrior, bounded forward to join in his monkey sports.
Chaupāī.
Maddened by the battle and full of fury, the two monkeys, mindful at heart of Rama’s glory, rushed upon Ravan’s palace, and shouting, “The king of Kosala to the rescue!” overthrew the whole building, so that not a pinnacle was left standing. When the demon chief saw this, he was dismayed; while the women all struck their breasts crying, “Now two of these pestilent monkeys have come.” After terrifying them with their monkey tricks, and proclaiming the praises of Ramchandra, they grasped each a golden pillar in their hand and cried, “Let us now make a beginning of destruction.” With a roar, they rushed into the midst of the enemy’s army, and began laying them low with mighty strength of arm, here a kick and there a blow; crying, “Worship Rama or take the consequences.”
Overcome with terror, the monkeys began to fly, although, Lord, they had already won the victory. Said one: “Where are Angad and Hanuman? Where Nala and Nila and the stalwart Dwivid?” Hanuman heard that his troops were in distress, but the hero was kept at the western gate. There Meghnad led the defence, nor was it possible to force the gate, so great was its strength. Then the Son of the Wind waxed exceeding wrath of soul; with a terrible roar, as though the end of the world had come, the hero made a bound and sprang upon the top of Lanka; then seizing a rock he rushed upon Meghnad, shattered his chariot, hurled its driver to the ground, and struck the prince himself with his foot in the chest. Another charioteer, seeing him senseless, threw him on to his car and brought him home with speed.
Dohā 42.
When Angad heard that Hanuman had made his way into the fort alone, he too, the adventurous warrior, bounded forward to join in his monkey sports.
Chaupāī.
Maddened by the battle and full of fury, the two monkeys, mindful at heart of Rama’s glory, rushed upon Ravan’s palace, and shouting, “The king of Kosala to the rescue!” overthrew the whole building, so that not a pinnacle was left standing. When the demon chief saw this, he was dismayed; while the women all struck their breasts crying, “Now two of these pestilent monkeys have come.” After terrifying them with their monkey tricks, and proclaiming the praises of Ramchandra, they grasped each a golden pillar in their hand and cried, “Let us now make a beginning of destruction.” With a roar, they rushed into the midst of the enemy’s army, and began laying them low with mighty strength of arm, here a kick and there a blow; crying, “Worship Rama or take the consequences.”
Dohā 43.
Overthrowing one after another they strike off their heads and hurl them away, so that they fall at Ravan’s feet smashed in pieces like so many earthen pots.
Whenever they caught any great chief, they seized him by the leg and threw him to their Lord. Vibhishan mentioned their names, and Rama assigned them His own sphere in heaven. Thus, man-eating monsters, who had devoured even the flesh of Brahman, obtained a translation such as even devotees desire. O Uma, Rama is tender-hearted and full of compassion, and bestowed salvation upon them for this reason, that the demons had taken His name, albeit in a spirit of enmity. Tell me, Bhavini, who else would be so merciful? Dull of heart indeed and utterly wretched are the men who, on hearing of such a Lord, do not abandon their errors and worship Him. Angad and Hanuman—thus cried the lord of Avadh—have forced their way into the fort, and Lanka with the two monkeys makes a sight like the sea churned by two Mount Merus.
After crushing the host of the enemy with the might of their arm, they perceived that it was now the close of day, and forgetting all their fatigue they both came bounding into the presence of their Lord.
Overthrowing one after another they strike off their heads and hurl them away, so that they fall at Ravan’s feet smashed in pieces like so many earthen pots.
Whenever they caught any great chief, they seized him by the leg and threw him to their Lord. Vibhishan mentioned their names, and Rama assigned them His own sphere in heaven. Thus, man-eating monsters, who had devoured even the flesh of Brahman, obtained a translation such as even devotees desire. O Uma, Rama is tender-hearted and full of compassion, and bestowed salvation upon them for this reason, that the demons had taken His name, albeit in a spirit of enmity. Tell me, Bhavini, who else would be so merciful? Dull of heart indeed and utterly wretched are the men who, on hearing of such a Lord, do not abandon their errors and worship Him. Angad and Hanuman—thus cried the lord of Avadh—have forced their way into the fort, and Lanka with the two monkeys makes a sight like the sea churned by two Mount Merus.
After crushing the host of the enemy with the might of their arm, they perceived that it was now the close of day, and forgetting all their fatigue they both came bounding into the presence of their Lord.
They bowed the head at their Lord's lotus feet, and he was glad at heart to see his champions again. Graciously he looked upon them both, and at once their fatigue passed away, and they were completely refreshed. On learning that Angad and Hanuman had gone, many warriors among the bears and monkeys turned from the field; while the demons, recovering their strength at nightfall, made a fresh onset, crying, “Ravana to the rescue!” At the sight of the demon army, the monkeys turned again; there was everywhere gnashing of teeth as the heroes closed in the fray. In both gallant armies, the leaders impatiently challenged the foe, and fought as those who will not hear of defeat. The valiant demons were all black of hue; the huge monkeys of many different colours. Both armies were equal in strength, with equally matched champions; the passion with which they fought was a sight to see, as when in the rains or the autumn, masses of cloud are driven against one another by the force of the wind. When the line began to break, the chiefs Akampan and Atikaya had recourse to jugglery, and all in a minute it became pitch dark; and there was a shower of blood, stones, and dust.
Have done with quarrelling; give back Sita and worship the All-merciful with loving devotion. His words stung like arrows: “Away, wretch, with your abominable suggestions; if it were not for your age, I would have killed you; but do not appear in my sight again.” He thought within himself, “He wishes to be killed by the All-merciful,” and so rose and departed, uttering words of reproof. Then Meghnâd cried in a fury: “See what a sight I will show you to-morrow; though I do not say much, I do a great deal.” On hearing his son’s speech, Bavan’s confidence returned and he took him lovingly into his lap. While they were still consulting, the day broke; the monkeys again assailed the four gates and fiercely encompassed the precipitous citadel. There was a confused noise in every part of the town, as the demons snatched up their weapons of every description and hurried forward and began hurling down masses of rock from the ramparts.
Have done with quarrelling; give back Sita and worship the All-merciful with loving devotion. His words stung like arrows: “Away, wretch, with your abominable suggestions; if it were not for your age, I would have killed you; but do not appear in my sight again.” He thought within himself, “He wishes to be killed by the All-merciful,” and so rose and departed, uttering words of reproof. Then Meghnâd cried in a fury: “See what a sight I will show you to-morrow; though I do not say much, I do a great deal.” On hearing his son’s speech, Bavan’s confidence returned and he took him lovingly into his lap. While they were still consulting, the day broke; the monkeys again assailed the four gates and fiercely encompassed the precipitous citadel. There was a confused noise in every part of the town, as the demons snatched up their weapons of every description and hurried forward and began hurling down masses of rock from the ramparts.
Chhand 2.
Thousands of them hurl down masses of rock; missiles of every kind are sent flying; the shock is as when a bolt falls from heaven and the thunderous noise like that of the clouds on the last day. The monstrous monkeys join in close combat; their bodies are hacked in pieces, but though mangled they faint not; they seize the rocks and hurl them against the fort wherever the demons are.
When Meghnâd heard that they had again come and seized the fort, he gallantly left his stronghold and sallied forth with beat of drum to meet the enemy face to face.
Chaupâi.
“Where are the two brother princes of Kosala, those archers so famous throughout the universe? Where are Nala and Nila, Dwivid and Sugriva, Angad and Hanumân, most powerful of all? Where is Vibhishan, his brother’s curse, that I may slay the wretch at once, this very day?” So saying, he made ready his terrible arrows, and in vehemence of passion drew the string to his ear. The multitudinous shafts that he let fly sped forth like so many winged serpents. Everywhere you might see monkeys falling to the ground; at that time there was not one that dared to face him. Everywhere bears and monkeys were taking to flight, and every wish to fight was clean forgotten. Not a bear or a monkey was to be seen on the field but those who had left their life there.
Thousands of them hurl down masses of rock; missiles of every kind are sent flying; the shock is as when a bolt falls from heaven and the thunderous noise like that of the clouds on the last day. The monstrous monkeys join in close combat; their bodies are hacked in pieces, but though mangled they faint not; they seize the rocks and hurl them against the fort wherever the demons are.
When Meghnâd heard that they had again come and seized the fort, he gallantly left his stronghold and sallied forth with beat of drum to meet the enemy face to face.
Chaupâi.
“Where are the two brother princes of Kosala, those archers so famous throughout the universe? Where are Nala and Nila, Dwivid and Sugriva, Angad and Hanumân, most powerful of all? Where is Vibhishan, his brother’s curse, that I may slay the wretch at once, this very day?” So saying, he made ready his terrible arrows, and in vehemence of passion drew the string to his ear. The multitudinous shafts that he let fly sped forth like so many winged serpents. Everywhere you might see monkeys falling to the ground; at that time there was not one that dared to face him. Everywhere bears and monkeys were taking to flight, and every wish to fight was clean forgotten. Not a bear or a monkey was to be seen on the field but those who had left their life there.
At each flight he sent forth ten arrows; the warriors all bit the dust; with the roar as of a lion, Meghnâd shouted aloud in the strength of his might.
When Hanumân saw the distress of the army, he rushed forth terrible as death, and quickly tearing up an enormous rock, hurled it at Meghnâd with the utmost fury. Seeing it come, he mounted up into the air; chariot, driver, and horses were all lost to sight. Again and again Hanumân defied him to combat; but he came no nearer and he then understood the mystery. Meghnâd had approached Râma, and after assailing him with every kind of abuse, turned at him weapons and missiles of every description; but the Lord with the utmost ease snapped them asunder and stopped them. On seeing this display of power, the fool was sore vexed and began to put in practice all kinds of magic; as if a poor little snake were to mock Garur and frighten him by snapping at him.
Dohâ 50.
The demon in the foolishness of his soul displayed his supernatural powers before him, whose mighty magic subdues Siva and Brahma and all both great and small.
Chhand.
Mounting up into the air, he rained down a shower of fire-brands, while floods of water broke out from the earth. Goblins and witches of diverse form danced with uproarious shouts of “kill him, tear him in pieces.” Now a shower of excrement, pus, blood, hair and bones, and now an overwhelming downfall of stones and ashes. The dust-storm made it so dark that if you held out your own hand you could not see it. The monkeys were dismayed at the sight of these apparitions and thought, “At this rate we must all of us perish.” But Râma smiled at the idle show; seeing, however, that all the monkeys were alarmed, he with a single arrow cleft asunder the delusion, as when the sun disperses the thick darkness. With a glance of compassion, he looked upon the bears and monkeys; at once they waxed so strong that there was no holding them back from the field of battle.
When Hanumân saw the distress of the army, he rushed forth terrible as death, and quickly tearing up an enormous rock, hurled it at Meghnâd with the utmost fury. Seeing it come, he mounted up into the air; chariot, driver, and horses were all lost to sight. Again and again Hanumân defied him to combat; but he came no nearer and he then understood the mystery. Meghnâd had approached Râma, and after assailing him with every kind of abuse, turned at him weapons and missiles of every description; but the Lord with the utmost ease snapped them asunder and stopped them. On seeing this display of power, the fool was sore vexed and began to put in practice all kinds of magic; as if a poor little snake were to mock Garur and frighten him by snapping at him.
Dohâ 50.
The demon in the foolishness of his soul displayed his supernatural powers before him, whose mighty magic subdues Siva and Brahma and all both great and small.
Chhand.
Mounting up into the air, he rained down a shower of fire-brands, while floods of water broke out from the earth. Goblins and witches of diverse form danced with uproarious shouts of “kill him, tear him in pieces.” Now a shower of excrement, pus, blood, hair and bones, and now an overwhelming downfall of stones and ashes. The dust-storm made it so dark that if you held out your own hand you could not see it. The monkeys were dismayed at the sight of these apparitions and thought, “At this rate we must all of us perish.” But Râma smiled at the idle show; seeing, however, that all the monkeys were alarmed, he with a single arrow cleft asunder the delusion, as when the sun disperses the thick darkness. With a glance of compassion, he looked upon the bears and monkeys; at once they waxed so strong that there was no holding them back from the field of battle.
Dohâ 51.
Having obtained Râma’s permission, Lakshman, taking with him Angad and the other monkeys, marched forth in fury, with bow and arrows in hand—
Chaupâi.
With blood-shot eyes, and mighty chest and arms, and his body of reddish hue like Mount Hemkûta. On the other side Râvan sent out his champions, who took up their armour and their weapons and hastened forth. With mountains and huge trees for missiles, the monkeys rushed to meet them, shouting “Victory to Râma!” They all closed in the fray, equally matched one with another, and both equally sanguine of success. After hurling the rocks and mountains at the foe, the monkeys next fell upon them with blows of the fist and kicks and rendings of the teeth; “Seize, seize, seize, kill, kill, kill, strike off his head, rend off his arm,” such were the cries which filled the nine continents of the world, while headless bodies still full of fury kept running to and fro. From the heaven above, the gods beheld the spectacle now in dismay and now in rapture.
Dohâ 52.
Every hollow in the ground was filled full of blood, and with the dust that rose in the clouds overhead, it seemed as when the smoke of a burning corpse spreads over some funeral pile:
Chaupâi,
while the wounded heroes resembled so many dhâk trees in flower. The two champions Lakshman and Meghnad grappled with one another in excess of fury. Neither could singly conquer the other; the demon by force and by feint showing himself so wicked. At last the incarnation of Seshnâg became mad with rage, and with one blow he crushed both the chariot and its driver. He so smote him in various ways that the demon was left barely alive. Then the son of Râvan thought within himself—“I am in a strait, he will take my life,” and he let fly his spear, the destroyer of heroes, which struck Lakshman in the breast with full force. So great was the shock that he swooned away. Then he went and drew near, no longer afraid.
Having obtained Râma’s permission, Lakshman, taking with him Angad and the other monkeys, marched forth in fury, with bow and arrows in hand—
Chaupâi.
With blood-shot eyes, and mighty chest and arms, and his body of reddish hue like Mount Hemkûta. On the other side Râvan sent out his champions, who took up their armour and their weapons and hastened forth. With mountains and huge trees for missiles, the monkeys rushed to meet them, shouting “Victory to Râma!” They all closed in the fray, equally matched one with another, and both equally sanguine of success. After hurling the rocks and mountains at the foe, the monkeys next fell upon them with blows of the fist and kicks and rendings of the teeth; “Seize, seize, seize, kill, kill, kill, strike off his head, rend off his arm,” such were the cries which filled the nine continents of the world, while headless bodies still full of fury kept running to and fro. From the heaven above, the gods beheld the spectacle now in dismay and now in rapture.
Dohâ 52.
Every hollow in the ground was filled full of blood, and with the dust that rose in the clouds overhead, it seemed as when the smoke of a burning corpse spreads over some funeral pile:
Chaupâi,
while the wounded heroes resembled so many dhâk trees in flower. The two champions Lakshman and Meghnad grappled with one another in excess of fury. Neither could singly conquer the other; the demon by force and by feint showing himself so wicked. At last the incarnation of Seshnâg became mad with rage, and with one blow he crushed both the chariot and its driver. He so smote him in various ways that the demon was left barely alive. Then the son of Râvan thought within himself—“I am in a strait, he will take my life,” and he let fly his spear, the destroyer of heroes, which struck Lakshman in the breast with full force. So great was the shock that he swooned away. Then he went and drew near, no longer afraid.
Dohâ 53.
A hundred myriad warriors like Meghnâd essayed to lift him; but how could Seshnâg, the supporter of the world, be thus lifted? They retired in dudgeon.
Chaupâi
Hearken, Bhayâni; who can conquer him in battle, the fire of whose wrath would consume in a moment the fourteen spheres of creation, whom gods and men and all things animate and inanimate adore? Only he can understand this mystery on whom rests the favour of Râma. As it was now evening, both armies left the field and began to muster their several forces. The All-merciful, the ubiquitous Supreme Spirit, the invincible lord of the universe, asked, “Where is Lakshman?” Hanumân then brought him forward. When the Lord saw his younger brother, he was much distressed. Jambavân said: “The physician Sushena is at Lankâ; send someone to fetch him.” Hanumân at once assumed a diminutive form and went and brought him, house and all.
Dohâ 54.
Sushena came and bowed his head at Râma’s lotus feet and told Hanumân to go and bring herbs from a certain mountain that he mentioned.
Chaupâi.
With Râma’s lotus feet impressed upon his heart, the Son of the Wind started in confident assurance. On the other side, a spy gave information. So Râvan went to the house of Kâla-nemi and told him. When he had heard the news, Kâla-nemi beat his head again and again, crying, “Who can stop his path who burnt your city before your very eyes? Have some regard for your own welfare and worship Râma and desist, sire, from henceforth from these vain endeavours. Cherish in your heart the delight of all eyes, whose body is dark and beautiful as the blue lotus. Have done with pride, conceit, and arrogance, and rouse yourself from this slumber in a night of delusion. Is it possible that any one should ever dream of conquering him for whom the serpent Time is mere food to devour?”
A hundred myriad warriors like Meghnâd essayed to lift him; but how could Seshnâg, the supporter of the world, be thus lifted? They retired in dudgeon.
Chaupâi
Hearken, Bhayâni; who can conquer him in battle, the fire of whose wrath would consume in a moment the fourteen spheres of creation, whom gods and men and all things animate and inanimate adore? Only he can understand this mystery on whom rests the favour of Râma. As it was now evening, both armies left the field and began to muster their several forces. The All-merciful, the ubiquitous Supreme Spirit, the invincible lord of the universe, asked, “Where is Lakshman?” Hanumân then brought him forward. When the Lord saw his younger brother, he was much distressed. Jambavân said: “The physician Sushena is at Lankâ; send someone to fetch him.” Hanumân at once assumed a diminutive form and went and brought him, house and all.
Dohâ 54.
Sushena came and bowed his head at Râma’s lotus feet and told Hanumân to go and bring herbs from a certain mountain that he mentioned.
Chaupâi.
With Râma’s lotus feet impressed upon his heart, the Son of the Wind started in confident assurance. On the other side, a spy gave information. So Râvan went to the house of Kâla-nemi and told him. When he had heard the news, Kâla-nemi beat his head again and again, crying, “Who can stop his path who burnt your city before your very eyes? Have some regard for your own welfare and worship Râma and desist, sire, from henceforth from these vain endeavours. Cherish in your heart the delight of all eyes, whose body is dark and beautiful as the blue lotus. Have done with pride, conceit, and arrogance, and rouse yourself from this slumber in a night of delusion. Is it possible that any one should ever dream of conquering him for whom the serpent Time is mere food to devour?”
Dohâ 55.
When the Ten-headed heard this, he was exceedingly wrathful, and Kâla-nemi reasoned to himself: “It will be better for me to die at the hands of Râma’s messenger, and not for this wretch to kill me.”
Chaupâi.
So saying, he went and by the power of magic constructed on the wayside a lake, temple and fine garden. Hanumân espied the charming spot and thought to himself, “After asking the holy man’s leave, I will drink of the water.
and rest. For the demon showed himself in false attire, and sought to delude the messenger even of the king of delusion. So the Son of the Wind went and bowed the head before him; and he began to recite Râma’s praises, saying—“A great battle is raging between Râvan and Râma, but Râma will win the day; of this there is no doubt. Though I have not moved from here, I have seen it all, my friend; my intelligence is remarkably clear-sighted.” On his asking for water, he gave him some in a cup; the monkey said—“That is not enough to satisfy me.” “Go then and bathe in the tank and quickly come back, and I will then bestow upon you a gift, by which you may attain to understanding.”
Dohâ 56
As he stepped into the tank, a fish seized the monkey by the foot. In his alarm he killed it. Whereupon it assumed a divine form, and mounting a chariot ascended into the heaven.
When the Ten-headed heard this, he was exceedingly wrathful, and Kâla-nemi reasoned to himself: “It will be better for me to die at the hands of Râma’s messenger, and not for this wretch to kill me.”
Chaupâi.
So saying, he went and by the power of magic constructed on the wayside a lake, temple and fine garden. Hanumân espied the charming spot and thought to himself, “After asking the holy man’s leave, I will drink of the water.
and rest. For the demon showed himself in false attire, and sought to delude the messenger even of the king of delusion. So the Son of the Wind went and bowed the head before him; and he began to recite Râma’s praises, saying—“A great battle is raging between Râvan and Râma, but Râma will win the day; of this there is no doubt. Though I have not moved from here, I have seen it all, my friend; my intelligence is remarkably clear-sighted.” On his asking for water, he gave him some in a cup; the monkey said—“That is not enough to satisfy me.” “Go then and bathe in the tank and quickly come back, and I will then bestow upon you a gift, by which you may attain to understanding.”
Dohâ 56
As he stepped into the tank, a fish seized the monkey by the foot. In his alarm he killed it. Whereupon it assumed a divine form, and mounting a chariot ascended into the heaven.
Chaupâî
“By the sight of you, O monkey, I have become freed from guilt, and the curse of the great saint has been removed. This is no hermit, but a fierce demon; doubt not the truth of my words.” So saying, the heavenly nymph went her way, and the monkey at once returned to the demon. Said the monkey—“Holy Sir, first receive my offering and after that tell me the charm.” He then twisted his tail round his head and threw him down. At the moment of his death he appeared in his proper form, and with a cry of “Râma, Râma!” breathed his last. On hearing this, Hanumân went on his way, glad of heart. He found the mountain, but could not recognize the herbs; so without any hesitation he tore up the hill by the root and went off with it. As he rushed through the night air with the mountain in his grasp, he passed over the city of Avadh.
Dohâ 57
Bharat saw him, and thinking him to be some most monstrous demon, drew his bow to his ear and shot him with a headless arrow.
Chaupâî
Struck by the dart he fell in a swoon to the earth, crying “O Râma, Râma, prince of Raghu’s line!” On hearing this grateful sound, Bharat started up and ran, and in the utmost haste drew nigh to the monkey. Seeing him wounded, he clasped him to his bosom and tried in every way to revive him, but without success. With a disconsolate face and sore grief at heart, he made this prayer, while his eyes streamed with tears: “God, who made me Râma’s enemy, has now caused me this additional distress. If in thought, word and deed, I have a sincere affection for Râma’s lotus feet, and if Râma is kindly disposed to me, may your pain and fatigue, O monkey, all pass away.” At the sound of these words, the monkey chief arose and sat up, crying “Glory, glory to the king of Kosala!”
“By the sight of you, O monkey, I have become freed from guilt, and the curse of the great saint has been removed. This is no hermit, but a fierce demon; doubt not the truth of my words.” So saying, the heavenly nymph went her way, and the monkey at once returned to the demon. Said the monkey—“Holy Sir, first receive my offering and after that tell me the charm.” He then twisted his tail round his head and threw him down. At the moment of his death he appeared in his proper form, and with a cry of “Râma, Râma!” breathed his last. On hearing this, Hanumân went on his way, glad of heart. He found the mountain, but could not recognize the herbs; so without any hesitation he tore up the hill by the root and went off with it. As he rushed through the night air with the mountain in his grasp, he passed over the city of Avadh.
Dohâ 57
Bharat saw him, and thinking him to be some most monstrous demon, drew his bow to his ear and shot him with a headless arrow.
Chaupâî
Struck by the dart he fell in a swoon to the earth, crying “O Râma, Râma, prince of Raghu’s line!” On hearing this grateful sound, Bharat started up and ran, and in the utmost haste drew nigh to the monkey. Seeing him wounded, he clasped him to his bosom and tried in every way to revive him, but without success. With a disconsolate face and sore grief at heart, he made this prayer, while his eyes streamed with tears: “God, who made me Râma’s enemy, has now caused me this additional distress. If in thought, word and deed, I have a sincere affection for Râma’s lotus feet, and if Râma is kindly disposed to me, may your pain and fatigue, O monkey, all pass away.” At the sound of these words, the monkey chief arose and sat up, crying “Glory, glory to the king of Kosala!”
Sorathâ 5
With quivering limbs and eyes full of tears, he took and clasped the monkey to his bosom, invoking Râma, the crown of the line of Raghu, in a transport of affection, which was more than his soul could contain.
Chaupâî
“Tell me, friend, is all well with the Fountain of Joy and with his brother and the revered Jânaki.” The monkey told him in brief all that had taken place. He became sad of heart and began to lament: “Alas, my fate, why was I born into the world, if in nothing I can help my lord.” But seeing the unfitness of the time he mastered his feelings, the gallant prince, and again addressed the monkey: “Sir, you will be delayed in your journey and your task will come to nought, for the day is now breaking. Mount my arrow, mountain and all, and I will send you straight into the presence of the All-merciful.” On hearing this, the monkey’s pride was aroused: “How can his arrow fly with my weight?” But again reflecting on Râma’s power, he bowed at his feet and cried with clasped hands:
Dohâ 58
“O my lord, I have only to cherish the thought of your majesty in my soul in order to travel quickly.” So saying, Hanumân took leave and after bowing at his feet set forth. As he went, the Son of the Wind again and again extolled to himself the mighty arm and the amiable disposition of Bharat and his boundless devotion to his lord’s feet.
With quivering limbs and eyes full of tears, he took and clasped the monkey to his bosom, invoking Râma, the crown of the line of Raghu, in a transport of affection, which was more than his soul could contain.
Chaupâî
“Tell me, friend, is all well with the Fountain of Joy and with his brother and the revered Jânaki.” The monkey told him in brief all that had taken place. He became sad of heart and began to lament: “Alas, my fate, why was I born into the world, if in nothing I can help my lord.” But seeing the unfitness of the time he mastered his feelings, the gallant prince, and again addressed the monkey: “Sir, you will be delayed in your journey and your task will come to nought, for the day is now breaking. Mount my arrow, mountain and all, and I will send you straight into the presence of the All-merciful.” On hearing this, the monkey’s pride was aroused: “How can his arrow fly with my weight?” But again reflecting on Râma’s power, he bowed at his feet and cried with clasped hands:
Dohâ 58
“O my lord, I have only to cherish the thought of your majesty in my soul in order to travel quickly.” So saying, Hanumân took leave and after bowing at his feet set forth. As he went, the Son of the Wind again and again extolled to himself the mighty arm and the amiable disposition of Bharat and his boundless devotion to his lord’s feet.
Chaupâî
Meanwhile, Râma was watching Lakshman and using language after the fashion of a man. When half the night was spent, and still the monkey had not returned, Râma raised his brother and clasped him to his heart: “O my brother, once you could not endure to see me in sorrow, your disposition was ever so affectionate. On my account, you left father and mother and exposed yourself to the forest, the cold, the heat and the wind. But where is now your old love, my brother, that you do not stir in response to my distress? If I had known that exile involved the loss of my brother, I would never have obeyed my father’s commands. Sons, riches, wives, house and kinsfolk come again time after time in a life, but a real brother is not so to be had; remember this, brother, and awake to life. As a bird is utterly wretched without wings, a serpent without its head-jewel, or an elephant without its trunk, so is my life
without you, my brother. Cruel fate preserves me alive; with what face can I show myself at Avadh, after sacrificing a dear brother for the sake of a woman? I would rather have endured the social disgrace; for, after all, the loss of a wife is no such great matter, and my heart is so hard and unfeeling that it can bear the sight even of this your anguish. Your mother’s only son, my brother, you are the sole support of her life, but she took you by the hand and entrusted you to me, knowing what a comfort and what a friend I should find you. What answer can I go and give her? Why do you not rise and advise me, brother?” Thus grievously sorrowed the healer of sorrow and his lotus eyes streamed with tears; but Râm, Râma is one and unchangeable, and it was only in compassion to his worshippers that he exhibited the manners of a man.
Meanwhile, Râma was watching Lakshman and using language after the fashion of a man. When half the night was spent, and still the monkey had not returned, Râma raised his brother and clasped him to his heart: “O my brother, once you could not endure to see me in sorrow, your disposition was ever so affectionate. On my account, you left father and mother and exposed yourself to the forest, the cold, the heat and the wind. But where is now your old love, my brother, that you do not stir in response to my distress? If I had known that exile involved the loss of my brother, I would never have obeyed my father’s commands. Sons, riches, wives, house and kinsfolk come again time after time in a life, but a real brother is not so to be had; remember this, brother, and awake to life. As a bird is utterly wretched without wings, a serpent without its head-jewel, or an elephant without its trunk, so is my life
without you, my brother. Cruel fate preserves me alive; with what face can I show myself at Avadh, after sacrificing a dear brother for the sake of a woman? I would rather have endured the social disgrace; for, after all, the loss of a wife is no such great matter, and my heart is so hard and unfeeling that it can bear the sight even of this your anguish. Your mother’s only son, my brother, you are the sole support of her life, but she took you by the hand and entrusted you to me, knowing what a comfort and what a friend I should find you. What answer can I go and give her? Why do you not rise and advise me, brother?” Thus grievously sorrowed the healer of sorrow and his lotus eyes streamed with tears; but Râm, Râma is one and unchangeable, and it was only in compassion to his worshippers that he exhibited the manners of a man.
All the monkeys were in distress on hearing their lord’s lamentation, till Hanumân arrived, like a heroic strain in the midst of an elegy.
Râma received him with exceeding joy, for the Lord is most grateful and supremely wise. Then quickly the physician concocted his remedies, and Lakshman gaily arose and sat up. The Lord affectionately clasped his brother to his heart and all the bears and monkeys were rejoiced. The physician was then conveyed home again in the same manner as he had been brought away. When Râvan heard of these proceedings, he was greatly disturbed and began beating himself on the head. In his agitation, he went to Kumbha-karn and with much trouble succeeded in waking him. When the monster was roused, he showed like Death itself in visible form. He asked, “Tell me, brother, why is your face so sad?” He told him the whole history of how in his pride he had carried off Sita. “Brother, the monkeys have killed all the demons and routed my stoutest warriors, Durmukha and the man-devouring Sura-ripu; Atikaya and Akampan, those mighty champions, together with Mahodara and other valiant heroes, who have fallen on the field of battle.”
On hearing Râvan’s report, Kumbha-karn cried out: “Wretch, you have carried off the mother of the universe and yet expect to prosper!
Râma received him with exceeding joy, for the Lord is most grateful and supremely wise. Then quickly the physician concocted his remedies, and Lakshman gaily arose and sat up. The Lord affectionately clasped his brother to his heart and all the bears and monkeys were rejoiced. The physician was then conveyed home again in the same manner as he had been brought away. When Râvan heard of these proceedings, he was greatly disturbed and began beating himself on the head. In his agitation, he went to Kumbha-karn and with much trouble succeeded in waking him. When the monster was roused, he showed like Death itself in visible form. He asked, “Tell me, brother, why is your face so sad?” He told him the whole history of how in his pride he had carried off Sita. “Brother, the monkeys have killed all the demons and routed my stoutest warriors, Durmukha and the man-devouring Sura-ripu; Atikaya and Akampan, those mighty champions, together with Mahodara and other valiant heroes, who have fallen on the field of battle.”
On hearing Râvan’s report, Kumbha-karn cried out: “Wretch, you have carried off the mother of the universe and yet expect to prosper!
You have done ill, O demon king; and now why have you come and awakened me? At once, brother, abandon your pride and worship Râma; so shall you prosper. How, Ten-heads, can Râma be a man, when he has such a servant as Hanumân? Alas, brother, you have acted foolishly; why did you not come and wake me before? You have rebelled against the god who is adored by Siva and Brahma and every other divinity. The knowledge which the sage Nârad imparted to me, I now declare to you; for the time has come. Embrace me, my brother, for I go to rejoice my eyes with the sight of the dark-blue, the lotus-eyed, the healer of every sorrow.”
As he contemplated Râma’s beauty and perfection, he was for a moment unconscious, then demanded of Râvan a million jars of wine and a whole herd of buffaloes.
After he had eaten the buffaloes and drunk the wine, he roared aloud with a voice of thunder and sallied forth from the fort without any escort, maddened with drink, the war-loving Kumbha-karn. Vibhishan, on seeing him, came forward and fell at his feet and said who he was. He raised his brother and took him to his heart, delighted to find him a worshipper of Râma. “Brother, that wretch Râvan struck me with his foot for giving him the best possible advice. Resenting such treatment, I came to Râma, and the Lord was glad at heart to see me His servant.” “Mark me, brother, Râvan is under the influence of fate and will listen to no advice, however good. Thrice blessed are you, Vibhishan, the glory of all the demon race; you have shed a lustre on all your kinsfolk by your worship of Râma, that ocean of beauty and felicity.
As he contemplated Râma’s beauty and perfection, he was for a moment unconscious, then demanded of Râvan a million jars of wine and a whole herd of buffaloes.
After he had eaten the buffaloes and drunk the wine, he roared aloud with a voice of thunder and sallied forth from the fort without any escort, maddened with drink, the war-loving Kumbha-karn. Vibhishan, on seeing him, came forward and fell at his feet and said who he was. He raised his brother and took him to his heart, delighted to find him a worshipper of Râma. “Brother, that wretch Râvan struck me with his foot for giving him the best possible advice. Resenting such treatment, I came to Râma, and the Lord was glad at heart to see me His servant.” “Mark me, brother, Râvan is under the influence of fate and will listen to no advice, however good. Thrice blessed are you, Vibhishan, the glory of all the demon race; you have shed a lustre on all your kinsfolk by your worship of Râma, that ocean of beauty and felicity.
You have guilelessly worshipped the heroic Râma in thought, word and deed. But go, I cannot distinguish here between friend and foe.” The warrior’s death was doomed.
KUMBHA-KARAN DEVOURING THE MONKEYS.
His brother’s words having been heard, Vibhishan turned and presented himself before the Lord of the three spheres. “My lord, Kumbha-karn approaches, a warrior huge of stature as a mountain.” The monkeys waited to hear no more, but ran off jabbering, the stoutest of them, and plucked up trees and rocks, which they hurled against him, gnashing their teeth the while. Millions upon millions of mountain peaks did the bears and monkeys cast upon him one after another; but neither did his courage fail, nor did he stir from his position; like an elephant pelted with flower-seeds. At last the Son of the Wind struck him with his fist; he fell to the ground and beat his head in dismay. Rising again, he gave Hanuman such a blow that he spun round and fell at once to the earth. Next he overthrew upon the plain Nala and Nila and dashed down the chiefs, hurling them this side and that. The monkey host scattered and fled in an utter panic, nor were there any to rally.
Dohâ 62.
Having rendered insensible Angad and the other monkeys and Sugriva as well, he clapped the king of the monkeys under his arm and went off, in his illimitable might.
KUMBHA-KARAN DEVOURING THE MONKEYS.
His brother’s words having been heard, Vibhishan turned and presented himself before the Lord of the three spheres. “My lord, Kumbha-karn approaches, a warrior huge of stature as a mountain.” The monkeys waited to hear no more, but ran off jabbering, the stoutest of them, and plucked up trees and rocks, which they hurled against him, gnashing their teeth the while. Millions upon millions of mountain peaks did the bears and monkeys cast upon him one after another; but neither did his courage fail, nor did he stir from his position; like an elephant pelted with flower-seeds. At last the Son of the Wind struck him with his fist; he fell to the ground and beat his head in dismay. Rising again, he gave Hanuman such a blow that he spun round and fell at once to the earth. Next he overthrew upon the plain Nala and Nila and dashed down the chiefs, hurling them this side and that. The monkey host scattered and fled in an utter panic, nor were there any to rally.
Dohâ 62.
Having rendered insensible Angad and the other monkeys and Sugriva as well, he clapped the king of the monkeys under his arm and went off, in his illimitable might.
Chaupâî
O Uma, when Rama plays the part of a man, it is like Siva sporting in company with snakes. If he but knit his brows, he annihilates Death himself, how then can he condescend to such a combat as this? The answer is that the fame of it, when spread abroad, tends to the redemption of the world, and mortals, who make it their song, emerge safely from the ocean of existence. When his swoon had passed off, the Son of the Wind awoke and began at once to look for Sugriva. But he, on recovering from his swoon, slipped out of Kumbha-karn’s clutches, who had taken him for dead. Having bitten off his nose and ears, he with a shout ascended into the air; but the giant saw him and caught him by the foot and dashed him to the ground. With wonderful agility he rose and struck him back and then betook himself—the hero—to the presence of his lord, crying, “Glory, glory, glory to the Fountain of Mercy.” But he, when he became sensible of his mutilated nose and ears, turned in a fury and with sore distress of soul. The monkey host were horror-stricken, when they saw the terrible warrior thus earless and noseless.
Dohâ 63.
Raising a shout of “victory to Rama,” the monkeys rushed forward, and all at once hurled upon him a volley of rocks and trees.
O Uma, when Rama plays the part of a man, it is like Siva sporting in company with snakes. If he but knit his brows, he annihilates Death himself, how then can he condescend to such a combat as this? The answer is that the fame of it, when spread abroad, tends to the redemption of the world, and mortals, who make it their song, emerge safely from the ocean of existence. When his swoon had passed off, the Son of the Wind awoke and began at once to look for Sugriva. But he, on recovering from his swoon, slipped out of Kumbha-karn’s clutches, who had taken him for dead. Having bitten off his nose and ears, he with a shout ascended into the air; but the giant saw him and caught him by the foot and dashed him to the ground. With wonderful agility he rose and struck him back and then betook himself—the hero—to the presence of his lord, crying, “Glory, glory, glory to the Fountain of Mercy.” But he, when he became sensible of his mutilated nose and ears, turned in a fury and with sore distress of soul. The monkey host were horror-stricken, when they saw the terrible warrior thus earless and noseless.
Dohâ 63.
Raising a shout of “victory to Rama,” the monkeys rushed forward, and all at once hurled upon him a volley of rocks and trees.
Chaupâî
Maddened with the rage of battle, Kumbha-karn advanced, awful as Death, and seized and devoured myriads of the monkeys, like locusts swallowed up in a mountain cave; myriads of others he crushed with his body, and myriads he ground to powder between his hands. But many of the bears and monkeys escaped, by the passage of his mouth, or nostrils, or ears. Drunk with the madness of battle, the demon was as boastful as though the whole universe had been made over to him to ravage. Every champion took to flight, and there was no turning them back; they could neither see with their eyes nor hear any cry. When they learnt that Kumbha-karn had routed the monkey host, the demons all rallied. But Rama saw his army in distress and the forces of the enemy coming on in full array.
Dohâ 64.
“Hearken, Sugriva and Vibhishan and you my brother, collect your troops and let me test the might of these miscreants”: thus cried the lotus-eyed.
Chaupâî
With bow in hand and quiver fitted to his side, Raghunath went forth to scatter the ranks of the enemy. The Lord gave His bow a preliminary twang; the hosts of the foe were deafened by the din. Then he let fly a million of arrows, He, the god ever faithful to his promise; the winged shafts sped like serpents of death. The terrible bolts flew in all directions; the mighty demon warriors were cut to pieces. Feet, trunk, head, and arms were shorn away; many a hero was cut into a hundred pieces. The wounded reel and fall to the ground, but gallantly recover themselves and rise again to renew the fight. The arrows as they strike give a thud like thunder; many fled when they saw how terrible they were. Headless bodies rush madly on; the cry resounds, “Seize, seize, kill, kill.”
Maddened with the rage of battle, Kumbha-karn advanced, awful as Death, and seized and devoured myriads of the monkeys, like locusts swallowed up in a mountain cave; myriads of others he crushed with his body, and myriads he ground to powder between his hands. But many of the bears and monkeys escaped, by the passage of his mouth, or nostrils, or ears. Drunk with the madness of battle, the demon was as boastful as though the whole universe had been made over to him to ravage. Every champion took to flight, and there was no turning them back; they could neither see with their eyes nor hear any cry. When they learnt that Kumbha-karn had routed the monkey host, the demons all rallied. But Rama saw his army in distress and the forces of the enemy coming on in full array.
Dohâ 64.
“Hearken, Sugriva and Vibhishan and you my brother, collect your troops and let me test the might of these miscreants”: thus cried the lotus-eyed.
Chaupâî
With bow in hand and quiver fitted to his side, Raghunath went forth to scatter the ranks of the enemy. The Lord gave His bow a preliminary twang; the hosts of the foe were deafened by the din. Then he let fly a million of arrows, He, the god ever faithful to his promise; the winged shafts sped like serpents of death. The terrible bolts flew in all directions; the mighty demon warriors were cut to pieces. Feet, trunk, head, and arms were shorn away; many a hero was cut into a hundred pieces. The wounded reel and fall to the ground, but gallantly recover themselves and rise again to renew the fight. The arrows as they strike give a thud like thunder; many fled when they saw how terrible they were. Headless bodies rush madly on; the cry resounds, “Seize, seize, kill, kill.”
Dohâ 65.
In a moment the Lord Raghubir’s arrows cut to pieces the terrible demons: and then his shafts all came back into the quiver.
Chaupâî
When Kumbha-karn saw and perceived that the demon host had been routed in a minute, the mighty warrior waxed exceeding wrath and roared aloud with the voice of a lion. In his fury, he tore up mountains by the root and hurled them upon the throng of monkey chiefs. The Lord saw the
tooustrous rocks coming and with his arrows shattered them into dust. Again
Raghunayak indignantly strung his bow and let fly a volley of his terrible
shafts. As they entered and passed through his body, they seemed like flashes
of lightning stored in a dense thunder-cloud. The streams of blood on his black
frame resembled rivers of red ochre on a mountain of soot. Perceiving his
distress, the bears and monkeys rushed forward; he laughed when he saw
them draw near.
Dohâ 66.
Bellowing aloud with a terrible voice, he seized myriads and myriads of the
monkeys, and dashed them to the ground like a lion, invoking the name of
Bâvan.
Chaupâi
In a moment the Lord Raghubir’s arrows cut to pieces the terrible demons: and then his shafts all came back into the quiver.
Chaupâî
When Kumbha-karn saw and perceived that the demon host had been routed in a minute, the mighty warrior waxed exceeding wrath and roared aloud with the voice of a lion. In his fury, he tore up mountains by the root and hurled them upon the throng of monkey chiefs. The Lord saw the
tooustrous rocks coming and with his arrows shattered them into dust. Again
Raghunayak indignantly strung his bow and let fly a volley of his terrible
shafts. As they entered and passed through his body, they seemed like flashes
of lightning stored in a dense thunder-cloud. The streams of blood on his black
frame resembled rivers of red ochre on a mountain of soot. Perceiving his
distress, the bears and monkeys rushed forward; he laughed when he saw
them draw near.
Dohâ 66.
Bellowing aloud with a terrible voice, he seized myriads and myriads of the
monkeys, and dashed them to the ground like a lion, invoking the name of
Bâvan.
Chaupâi
The bears and monkeys all fled, like a flock of sheep at the sight of a wolf;
and in their flight, Bhavâni, they cried aloud in their distress with a piteous
voice: “This demon is for the monkey race like a sore famine that threatens
to devastate a whole country. O Râma, Kharâri, rain-cloud of mercy, ever
ready to relieve the distress of the suppliant, have mercy upon us, have mercy
upon us.” When the Lord God heard their piteous cry, he took his bow and
arrows and went forth. His army he checked in the rear and went forth in
his own might, full of indignation. He drew his bow and fitted a hundred
arrows to the string; they flew forth and entered into his body. At their stroke
he rushed forth in a fury—the mountains reeled, the earth staggered—and tore
up a rock, but Râma shot away his arm. Again he rushed on, with a rock in
his left hand; but that arm too Râma cut off, and it fell to the ground. The
monster thus robbed of his arms resembled Mount Mandara without its wings.
With savage eyes he glared upon the Lord, as though ready to devour the
whole universe.
Dohâ 67.
With a most terrible shriek he rushed forward with open mouths. The
saints and gods above cried out in their terror, “Alas, alas, alas!”
and in their flight, Bhavâni, they cried aloud in their distress with a piteous
voice: “This demon is for the monkey race like a sore famine that threatens
to devastate a whole country. O Râma, Kharâri, rain-cloud of mercy, ever
ready to relieve the distress of the suppliant, have mercy upon us, have mercy
upon us.” When the Lord God heard their piteous cry, he took his bow and
arrows and went forth. His army he checked in the rear and went forth in
his own might, full of indignation. He drew his bow and fitted a hundred
arrows to the string; they flew forth and entered into his body. At their stroke
he rushed forth in a fury—the mountains reeled, the earth staggered—and tore
up a rock, but Râma shot away his arm. Again he rushed on, with a rock in
his left hand; but that arm too Râma cut off, and it fell to the ground. The
monster thus robbed of his arms resembled Mount Mandara without its wings.
With savage eyes he glared upon the Lord, as though ready to devour the
whole universe.
Dohâ 67.
With a most terrible shriek he rushed forward with open mouths. The
saints and gods above cried out in their terror, “Alas, alas, alas!”
Chaupâi
When the All-merciful saw the alarm of the gods, He drew his bow with
its string to his ear. The flight of arrows filled the demon’s mouth, yet he was
so strong that he did not fall to the ground. With his mouth full of arrows he
still rushed upon the foe, like a living quiver of death. Then the Lord in his
wrath took his sharpest arrow and struck his head right off his body. The
head fell at the feet of Bâvan, who was as dismayed at the sight as a snake
that has dropped its crest jewel. The ground sank beneath the weight of the
trunk, as it still ran madly on; till the Lord cut it in two. Then it fell to the
earth like a mountain from the sky, crushing beneath it monkeys, bears, and
demons. His soul entered the Lord’s mouth, to the astonishment of gods,
saints, and all. The gods in their delight sound the kettle-drum and hymn His
praise, and rain down flowers in abundance. After paying homage, all the
gods went their way. At that time came also the divine sage, Nârad, and
extolled above the heaven Hari’s infinite perfection. The Lord’s soul was
pleased by his stirring heroic strain. “Make haste to destroy these miscreants”
were the saint’s words as he left. Râma remained in his glory on the field of
battle.
When the All-merciful saw the alarm of the gods, He drew his bow with
its string to his ear. The flight of arrows filled the demon’s mouth, yet he was
so strong that he did not fall to the ground. With his mouth full of arrows he
still rushed upon the foe, like a living quiver of death. Then the Lord in his
wrath took his sharpest arrow and struck his head right off his body. The
head fell at the feet of Bâvan, who was as dismayed at the sight as a snake
that has dropped its crest jewel. The ground sank beneath the weight of the
trunk, as it still ran madly on; till the Lord cut it in two. Then it fell to the
earth like a mountain from the sky, crushing beneath it monkeys, bears, and
demons. His soul entered the Lord’s mouth, to the astonishment of gods,
saints, and all. The gods in their delight sound the kettle-drum and hymn His
praise, and rain down flowers in abundance. After paying homage, all the
gods went their way. At that time came also the divine sage, Nârad, and
extolled above the heaven Hari’s infinite perfection. The Lord’s soul was
pleased by his stirring heroic strain. “Make haste to destroy these miscreants”
were the saint’s words as he left. Râma remained in his glory on the field of
battle.
Chhand 5.
All-glorious shone forth Raghupati on the field of battle, in his immeasurable
might and manifold beauty, with the drops of toil on his lotus face, with
his lovely eyes and his body specked with blood, while in both hands he
brandished his bow and arrows, with the bears and monkeys grouped all around
him. Not Seshnâg with his many tongues could tell all his beauty, so says
Tulsî Dâs.
Dohâ 68.
Though the demons were so vile and very mines of impurity, he translated
them to his own sphere. O Umâ, how dull of understanding are the men who
do not worship the divine Râma.
At the close of the day both armies retired; the battle had thoroughly
exhausted the stoutest warriors. But by Râma’s favour the monkey host
gathered fresh strength, like as a fire blazes up when fed with straw; while the
demons wasted away day and night, like the merit of a man’s good deeds when
he tells them himself. Bâvan made great lamentation, again and again taking
his brother’s head in his lap. His wives also wept and beat their breasts with
their hands, while they told of his pre-eminent majesty and strength. At this
juncture Meghnâd arrived and with many words consoled his father: “Be witness
to-morrow of my prowess; what need now of boastful speeches. I have received
from my patron divinity a chariot of strength, the virtue of which I have never
yet shown you, father.” While they were thus talking, the day broke and
swarms of monkeys assailed the four gates. On the one side were the bears and
monkeys terrible as death; on the other the demons, fiercest of warriors. Valiantly
they fight, each thirsting for victory; the battle, Gardri baffles all description.
All-glorious shone forth Raghupati on the field of battle, in his immeasurable
might and manifold beauty, with the drops of toil on his lotus face, with
his lovely eyes and his body specked with blood, while in both hands he
brandished his bow and arrows, with the bears and monkeys grouped all around
him. Not Seshnâg with his many tongues could tell all his beauty, so says
Tulsî Dâs.
Dohâ 68.
Though the demons were so vile and very mines of impurity, he translated
them to his own sphere. O Umâ, how dull of understanding are the men who
do not worship the divine Râma.
At the close of the day both armies retired; the battle had thoroughly
exhausted the stoutest warriors. But by Râma’s favour the monkey host
gathered fresh strength, like as a fire blazes up when fed with straw; while the
demons wasted away day and night, like the merit of a man’s good deeds when
he tells them himself. Bâvan made great lamentation, again and again taking
his brother’s head in his lap. His wives also wept and beat their breasts with
their hands, while they told of his pre-eminent majesty and strength. At this
juncture Meghnâd arrived and with many words consoled his father: “Be witness
to-morrow of my prowess; what need now of boastful speeches. I have received
from my patron divinity a chariot of strength, the virtue of which I have never
yet shown you, father.” While they were thus talking, the day broke and
swarms of monkeys assailed the four gates. On the one side were the bears and
monkeys terrible as death; on the other the demons, fiercest of warriors. Valiantly
they fight, each thirsting for victory; the battle, Gardri baffles all description.
Dohâ 69.
Meghnâd mounted his magic car and ascended into the air with a laugh
like the roar of thunder, which struck the monkey army with terror.
Chaupâi
Spears, lances, swords, and scimitars were plied, with weapons and missiles of every description, axes, hatchets, clubs and stones, and then a shower of innumerable arrows. The heaven was as dark all round with arrows as when the constellation Magha pours down its torrents. “Seize, seize, kill, kill,” were the cries that sounded in their ears, but none could tell who it was that struck them. Snatching up rocks and trees, the monkeys sprang into the air; but they could not see him and returned disappointed. Ravines, gorges, roads, and mountain-caves were turned by his magic power into arrowy cages. The monkeys were confounded and knew not where to turn, and fell to the ground like the mountains fallen in bondage to Indra. Hanuman, Angad, Nala, Nila, and every other warrior he sorely distressed; then he assailed with his shafts Lakshman, Sugriva and Vibhishan, piercing their bodies through and through again. Lastly he joined in combat with Rama himself and let fly his arrows, which as they struck turned to snakes. Kharari was rendered powerless by the serpents’ coils, he the great free agent, the everlasting, the one unchangeable, who like a juggler performs all sorts of delusive actions, but is ever his own master, Rama, our Lord. It was only to enhance the glory of the battle that he allowed himself to be bound by the serpents’ coils; but the gods were in a panic.
Meghnâd mounted his magic car and ascended into the air with a laugh
like the roar of thunder, which struck the monkey army with terror.
Chaupâi
Spears, lances, swords, and scimitars were plied, with weapons and missiles of every description, axes, hatchets, clubs and stones, and then a shower of innumerable arrows. The heaven was as dark all round with arrows as when the constellation Magha pours down its torrents. “Seize, seize, kill, kill,” were the cries that sounded in their ears, but none could tell who it was that struck them. Snatching up rocks and trees, the monkeys sprang into the air; but they could not see him and returned disappointed. Ravines, gorges, roads, and mountain-caves were turned by his magic power into arrowy cages. The monkeys were confounded and knew not where to turn, and fell to the ground like the mountains fallen in bondage to Indra. Hanuman, Angad, Nala, Nila, and every other warrior he sorely distressed; then he assailed with his shafts Lakshman, Sugriva and Vibhishan, piercing their bodies through and through again. Lastly he joined in combat with Rama himself and let fly his arrows, which as they struck turned to snakes. Kharari was rendered powerless by the serpents’ coils, he the great free agent, the everlasting, the one unchangeable, who like a juggler performs all sorts of delusive actions, but is ever his own master, Rama, our Lord. It was only to enhance the glory of the battle that he allowed himself to be bound by the serpents’ coils; but the gods were in a panic.
Heroes; an army magnificent in every respect, like the mustered array of the gallant god of spring. As the host marched, the elephants of the eight quarters reeled, the ocean was stirred from its depths, the mountains shook. The dust rose in clouds that obscured the sun, the wind failed, and the earth was troubled. Drums and other instruments of music made an awful din, like the crash of thunder-clouds on the last day. Clarions, trumpets, and hautboys sounded the martial strain that gladdens the souls of heroes. With one accord they shouted as with the voice of a lion, each extolling his own strength and manhood. Bayan cried: “Hearken, my warriors; do you attack the common herd of bears and monkeys; I myself will slay the two brother princes.” So saying, he ordered the army to advance to the front. When the monkeys heard the news, they all rushed on, crying “Râma to the rescue.”
Chhand 5.
The gigantic and terrible bears and monkeys rushed on like death, flying through the air like so many winged mountains of diverse colours. With talons and teeth and rocks and enormous trees for weapons, they all feel no fear, singing the glory of Râma, the lion-like vanquisher of the wild elephant Râvan.
Dohâ 76.
With a shout of “victory, victory” raised from both sides, the heroes
selected each his match and closed in combat, these calling on Râma and those
on Râvan.
Chhand 5.
The gigantic and terrible bears and monkeys rushed on like death, flying through the air like so many winged mountains of diverse colours. With talons and teeth and rocks and enormous trees for weapons, they all feel no fear, singing the glory of Râma, the lion-like vanquisher of the wild elephant Râvan.
Dohâ 76.
With a shout of “victory, victory” raised from both sides, the heroes
selected each his match and closed in combat, these calling on Râma and those
on Râvan.
Chaupâi.
When Vibhîshan observed that Râvan was in a chariot and Râma on foot, he became anxious; his extreme affection made him doubtful of mind, and falling at his feet he cried tenderly: “My lord, you have neither a chariot nor shoes to your feet; how can you conquer so powerful a warrior?” “Hearken, friend,” replied the All-merciful, “a conqueror has a different kind of chariot. Manliness and courage are his chariot wheels; unflinching truthfulness and morality his banners and standards; strength, discretion, self-control and benevolence his horses, with grace, mercy and equanimity for their harness; prayer to Mahâdeva his unerring charioteer; continence his shield, contentment his sword, alms-giving his axe, knowledge his mighty spear, and perfect science his stout bow. His pure and constant soul stands for a quiver, his pious practices of devotion for a sheaf of arrows, and the reverence he pays to Brâhmans and his guru is his impenetrable coat of mail. There is no equipment for victory that can be compared to this, nor is there any enemy, my friend, who can conquer the man who takes his stand on the chariot of religion.
Dohâ 77.
He who has such a powerful chariot as this is a warrior who can overcome even that great and terrible enemy, the world; hearken, friend, and fear not.” When he had heard his Lord’s exhortation, Vibhishan clasped his feet in his joy and cried: “O Râma, full of mercy and kindness, you have used this parable to give me a lesson.” On the one side Râvan’s rabble, on the other Angad and Hanumân, the demons against the bears and monkeys, had joined in battle, each swearing by his own Lord.
When Vibhîshan observed that Râvan was in a chariot and Râma on foot, he became anxious; his extreme affection made him doubtful of mind, and falling at his feet he cried tenderly: “My lord, you have neither a chariot nor shoes to your feet; how can you conquer so powerful a warrior?” “Hearken, friend,” replied the All-merciful, “a conqueror has a different kind of chariot. Manliness and courage are his chariot wheels; unflinching truthfulness and morality his banners and standards; strength, discretion, self-control and benevolence his horses, with grace, mercy and equanimity for their harness; prayer to Mahâdeva his unerring charioteer; continence his shield, contentment his sword, alms-giving his axe, knowledge his mighty spear, and perfect science his stout bow. His pure and constant soul stands for a quiver, his pious practices of devotion for a sheaf of arrows, and the reverence he pays to Brâhmans and his guru is his impenetrable coat of mail. There is no equipment for victory that can be compared to this, nor is there any enemy, my friend, who can conquer the man who takes his stand on the chariot of religion.
Dohâ 77.
He who has such a powerful chariot as this is a warrior who can overcome even that great and terrible enemy, the world; hearken, friend, and fear not.” When he had heard his Lord’s exhortation, Vibhishan clasped his feet in his joy and cried: “O Râma, full of mercy and kindness, you have used this parable to give me a lesson.” On the one side Râvan’s rabble, on the other Angad and Hanumân, the demons against the bears and monkeys, had joined in battle, each swearing by his own Lord.
Chaupâi.
Brahma and the other gods, with all the saints and sages, mounted their chariots to watch the fray from the heaven above. I too, Râmâ, was with them, beholding Râma’s exploits on the field of battle. On both sides the leaders were maddened with martial frenzy, but the monkeys were triumphant through the might of Râma. With shouts of defiance they close in single combat, each mauling his foe and beating him to the ground. They strike, they bite, they clutch, they fell; they tear off heads and use them for missiles; they rip up bodies, wrench off arms, and seizing by the leg dash to the ground. The bears bury the demon warriors in the earth and pile over them heaps of sand; the sturdy monkeys raging in the fight were like so many monstrous images of ravening death to look upon.
Chhand 6.
The monkeys, their bodies all streaming with gore, stood forth like multiplied images of the god of death, crushing the mightiest warriors of the demon host and roaring with a voice of thunder. They strike, they buffet, they tear with the teeth, they crush beneath the feet, uttering fierce cries, both bears and monkeys, and employing strength and stratagem alike by which to reduce the miscreants. They seize and tear open their cheeks, they rip up the belly and take the entrails and hang them round their own necks, as though the lord of Prahlâd (Narsinh) had assumed a multiplicity of forms and were disporting himself on the field of battle. “Seize, strike, tear, overthrow,” were the savage cries with which earth and heaven resounded. Glory to Râma, who can make a straw a thunderbolt and again reduce a thunderbolt to a straw.
Brahma and the other gods, with all the saints and sages, mounted their chariots to watch the fray from the heaven above. I too, Râmâ, was with them, beholding Râma’s exploits on the field of battle. On both sides the leaders were maddened with martial frenzy, but the monkeys were triumphant through the might of Râma. With shouts of defiance they close in single combat, each mauling his foe and beating him to the ground. They strike, they bite, they clutch, they fell; they tear off heads and use them for missiles; they rip up bodies, wrench off arms, and seizing by the leg dash to the ground. The bears bury the demon warriors in the earth and pile over them heaps of sand; the sturdy monkeys raging in the fight were like so many monstrous images of ravening death to look upon.
Chhand 6.
The monkeys, their bodies all streaming with gore, stood forth like multiplied images of the god of death, crushing the mightiest warriors of the demon host and roaring with a voice of thunder. They strike, they buffet, they tear with the teeth, they crush beneath the feet, uttering fierce cries, both bears and monkeys, and employing strength and stratagem alike by which to reduce the miscreants. They seize and tear open their cheeks, they rip up the belly and take the entrails and hang them round their own necks, as though the lord of Prahlâd (Narsinh) had assumed a multiplicity of forms and were disporting himself on the field of battle. “Seize, strike, tear, overthrow,” were the savage cries with which earth and heaven resounded. Glory to Râma, who can make a straw a thunderbolt and again reduce a thunderbolt to a straw.
Dohâ 78.
When Râvan saw his troops in confusion, he mounted his chariot, with his twenty arms and ten bows, and essayed to rally them, crying “turn, turn.”
Chaupâi.
The Ten-headed rushed forth in wild fury, and the monkeys with a whoop advanced to meet him. Taking in their hands trees, crags and mountains, together they all hurled them upon him. The masses of stone no sooner struck on his adamantine frame than they were at once shattered in pieces, while he flinched not, but stood firm as a rock and stayed his chariot, he Râvan, maddened with the battle and terrible in his fury. This side and that he scattered and battered the monkey chiefs in the fierceness of his wrath. Bears and monkeys all took to flight, crying, “Help, help, Angad, Hanumân; save, save, O lord Raghubir; this monster, as sure as death, will devour us all.” When he saw the monkeys in flight, he fitted an arrow to each of his ten bows.
Chhand 7
He strung his bow and let fly a volley of arrows; they flew and lodged like serpents; the heaven and the earth were full of arrows; the monkeys fled in all directions. There was a terrible uproar, the monkey host and the bears were panic-stricken and cried in dismay: “O Raghubir, fountain of mercy; O Hari, friend of the forlorn, saviour of mankind.”
When Râvan saw his troops in confusion, he mounted his chariot, with his twenty arms and ten bows, and essayed to rally them, crying “turn, turn.”
Chaupâi.
The Ten-headed rushed forth in wild fury, and the monkeys with a whoop advanced to meet him. Taking in their hands trees, crags and mountains, together they all hurled them upon him. The masses of stone no sooner struck on his adamantine frame than they were at once shattered in pieces, while he flinched not, but stood firm as a rock and stayed his chariot, he Râvan, maddened with the battle and terrible in his fury. This side and that he scattered and battered the monkey chiefs in the fierceness of his wrath. Bears and monkeys all took to flight, crying, “Help, help, Angad, Hanumân; save, save, O lord Raghubir; this monster, as sure as death, will devour us all.” When he saw the monkeys in flight, he fitted an arrow to each of his ten bows.
Chhand 7
He strung his bow and let fly a volley of arrows; they flew and lodged like serpents; the heaven and the earth were full of arrows; the monkeys fled in all directions. There was a terrible uproar, the monkey host and the bears were panic-stricken and cried in dismay: “O Raghubir, fountain of mercy; O Hari, friend of the forlorn, saviour of mankind.”
out of the water. Vultures sit on the bank and tear the entrails of the dead, like fishermen intent on their rods. Many bodies float down with birds upon them, as if they were boating in a river. Witches draw water in skulls; other female demons and goblins dance in the air, clashing the skulls of warriors for cymbals, while the infernal goddesses sing song after song. Herds of jackals snarl and growl and scamper about devouring till they are gorged. Thousands of headless bodies roam the plain, while the heads fallen to the ground still shout “victory, victory!”
Chhand 13.
The heads cry “victory, victory,” while the headless trunks rush wildly about. Swords and spears are inextricably involved, hero against hero, fighting and overthrowing. The monkeys crushed the demon crew and triumphed through the power of Râma. Smitten by Râma’s arrows, the leaders are conspicuous on the field of battle.
Dohâ 85.
Râvan thought within himself—“The demons are routed; I am alone, the bears and monkeys are many; I must put forth all my magic power.”
Chaupâi.
When the gods saw that the Lord was on foot, they were exceedingly disturbed in mind, and Indra at once despatched his own chariot. Mâtali brought it gladly, a splendid chariot, divine, incomparable; the king of Kosala rejoiced as he mounted it. Its four beautiful and high-mettled steeds, deathless and ever young, flew swift as thought. When they saw Raghunâth mounted on a car, the monkeys rushed forward with renewed vigour. Their onset was irresistible. Then Râvan exerted his magic power. Raghubîr knew it to be a mere delusion, but Lakshman and the monkeys took it for real. They saw among the demon host many Râmas and as many Lakshmans.
Chhand 13.
The heads cry “victory, victory,” while the headless trunks rush wildly about. Swords and spears are inextricably involved, hero against hero, fighting and overthrowing. The monkeys crushed the demon crew and triumphed through the power of Râma. Smitten by Râma’s arrows, the leaders are conspicuous on the field of battle.
Dohâ 85.
Râvan thought within himself—“The demons are routed; I am alone, the bears and monkeys are many; I must put forth all my magic power.”
Chaupâi.
When the gods saw that the Lord was on foot, they were exceedingly disturbed in mind, and Indra at once despatched his own chariot. Mâtali brought it gladly, a splendid chariot, divine, incomparable; the king of Kosala rejoiced as he mounted it. Its four beautiful and high-mettled steeds, deathless and ever young, flew swift as thought. When they saw Raghunâth mounted on a car, the monkeys rushed forward with renewed vigour. Their onset was irresistible. Then Râvan exerted his magic power. Raghubîr knew it to be a mere delusion, but Lakshman and the monkeys took it for real. They saw among the demon host many Râmas and as many Lakshmans.
Chhand 14.
Seeing these multiplied Râmas and Lakshmans, the monkeys and bears were greatly dismayed; wherever they looked, they saw him standing, as in a picture, and Lakshman with him. The Lord of Kosala smiled to see the perplexity of his troops; Hari made ready his bow and in a moment scattered the delusion: the monkey host rejoiced again.
Then Râma looked round about him and cried with a mighty voice: “Watch now the combat between us two, for my captains are all a-weary.”
Chaupâi.
So saying, Raghunâth urged forward his chariot, after bowing his head at the Brâhmans’ lotus feet. Then was the king of Lankâ full of fury and rushed to meet him, challenging him with a voice of thunder: “As for the warriors you have defeated in battle, mark me, hermit, I am not like them. The glory of Râvan’s name is known throughout the world, and how he cast into prison the regents of the spheres. You forsooth have slain Khara and Dûshan and Virâdha and killed poor Bâli, lying in ambush for him like a huntsman. You have routed the leaders of the demon host, and put to death Kumbha-karna and Meghnâd. But to-day I will make an end of all this fighting; unless, indeed, you save yourself by flight from the field. To-day, wretch, I will give you in charge to Death; you have now to deal with the mighty Râvan.” On hearing this abusive speech, the All-merciful, knowing him to be death-doomed, smiled and answered: “True, true, I have heard all about your greatness; but no more boasting words, let me see your strength.”
Seeing these multiplied Râmas and Lakshmans, the monkeys and bears were greatly dismayed; wherever they looked, they saw him standing, as in a picture, and Lakshman with him. The Lord of Kosala smiled to see the perplexity of his troops; Hari made ready his bow and in a moment scattered the delusion: the monkey host rejoiced again.
Then Râma looked round about him and cried with a mighty voice: “Watch now the combat between us two, for my captains are all a-weary.”
Chaupâi.
So saying, Raghunâth urged forward his chariot, after bowing his head at the Brâhmans’ lotus feet. Then was the king of Lankâ full of fury and rushed to meet him, challenging him with a voice of thunder: “As for the warriors you have defeated in battle, mark me, hermit, I am not like them. The glory of Râvan’s name is known throughout the world, and how he cast into prison the regents of the spheres. You forsooth have slain Khara and Dûshan and Virâdha and killed poor Bâli, lying in ambush for him like a huntsman. You have routed the leaders of the demon host, and put to death Kumbha-karna and Meghnâd. But to-day I will make an end of all this fighting; unless, indeed, you save yourself by flight from the field. To-day, wretch, I will give you in charge to Death; you have now to deal with the mighty Râvan.” On hearing this abusive speech, the All-merciful, knowing him to be death-doomed, smiled and answered: “True, true, I have heard all about your greatness; but no more boasting words, let me see your strength.”
Chhand 15.
Do not destroy your reputation by boasting, but pardon me if I give you a lesson. In this world there are three kinds of men, resembling respectively the dhâk, the mango, and the bread-fruit tree. The one has flowers, the second flowers and fruit, and the third fruit only. The one talks; the second talks and does; the third does, but says not a word.
Dohâ 87.
On hearing Râma’s speech, he laughed and said: “Now you are for teaching me wisdom. You did not fear to challenge me; but at last you begin to hold your life dear.”
Chaupâi.
Having uttered this taunt, Râvan in a fury began to let fly his arrows like so many thunderbolts. The shafts sped forth, of many shapes, and on all sides around the heaven and earth were filled with the cloud of them. Raghubîr discharged an arrow of fire, and in a moment the demon’s bolts were all consumed. He ground his teeth and hurled forth his mighty spear; the Lord turned it with an arrow and sent it back. Then he cast against him thousands of discs and tridents; but the Lord without an effort snapped and turned them aside. Râvan’s artillery was as unavailing as are always the schemes of the wicked. Then with a hundred arrows at once he struck the charioteer, who fell to the ground, crying “victory to Râma.” So the Lord had compassion upon him and raised him up again: but a terrible fury then possessed him:
Do not destroy your reputation by boasting, but pardon me if I give you a lesson. In this world there are three kinds of men, resembling respectively the dhâk, the mango, and the bread-fruit tree. The one has flowers, the second flowers and fruit, and the third fruit only. The one talks; the second talks and does; the third does, but says not a word.
Dohâ 87.
On hearing Râma’s speech, he laughed and said: “Now you are for teaching me wisdom. You did not fear to challenge me; but at last you begin to hold your life dear.”
Chaupâi.
Having uttered this taunt, Râvan in a fury began to let fly his arrows like so many thunderbolts. The shafts sped forth, of many shapes, and on all sides around the heaven and earth were filled with the cloud of them. Raghubîr discharged an arrow of fire, and in a moment the demon’s bolts were all consumed. He ground his teeth and hurled forth his mighty spear; the Lord turned it with an arrow and sent it back. Then he cast against him thousands of discs and tridents; but the Lord without an effort snapped and turned them aside. Râvan’s artillery was as unavailing as are always the schemes of the wicked. Then with a hundred arrows at once he struck the charioteer, who fell to the ground, crying “victory to Râma.” So the Lord had compassion upon him and raised him up again: but a terrible fury then possessed him:
Chhand 16.
Full of fury and raging in the battle, Baghupati's very arrows were ready to jump out of his quiver. At the sound of the awful twang of his bow all creation was seized with terror. Mandodari's heart quaked: the sea, the great tortoise, the earth and its supporter trembled; the elephants of the eight quarters squealed and grasped the world tight in their jaws, while the gods laughed to see the sport.
Dohâ 88.
He drew the bowstring to his ear and let fly his terrible darts; they cleft the sky, quivering like so many serpents.
Chaupâl.
The arrows sped forth like winged serpents and at once laid low the charioteer and his horses, breaking the car and snapping the flagstaff. Though inwardly his courage failed him, he roared aloud and quickly mounted another car, and grinding his teeth let fly weapons and missiles of every description. But all his efforts were as fruitless as the thoughts of a man who delights only in mischief. Then Râvan hurled forth ten spears, which struck the four horses and brought them to the ground. Râma was furious: he raised the horses and then drew his bow and let fly his arrows. The edge of Raghubir's shafts swept off Râvan's heads as though they had been lotuses. He smote each of his ten heads with ten arrows: the blood gushed forth in torrents. Streaming with gore, he rushed on in his strength; but the Lord again fitted arrows to his bow and let fly thirty shafts; his heads and arms all fell to the ground. Again Râma smote away his arms and heads; for they had grown afresh after being cut off. Time after time the Lord struck off his arms and heads, but they were no sooner smitten off than they were again renewed. Again and again the Lord shred off his heads and arms. The king of Kosala mightily diverted himself. The whole heaven was full of heads and arms, like an infinite number of Ketus and Râhus.
Full of fury and raging in the battle, Baghupati's very arrows were ready to jump out of his quiver. At the sound of the awful twang of his bow all creation was seized with terror. Mandodari's heart quaked: the sea, the great tortoise, the earth and its supporter trembled; the elephants of the eight quarters squealed and grasped the world tight in their jaws, while the gods laughed to see the sport.
Dohâ 88.
He drew the bowstring to his ear and let fly his terrible darts; they cleft the sky, quivering like so many serpents.
Chaupâl.
The arrows sped forth like winged serpents and at once laid low the charioteer and his horses, breaking the car and snapping the flagstaff. Though inwardly his courage failed him, he roared aloud and quickly mounted another car, and grinding his teeth let fly weapons and missiles of every description. But all his efforts were as fruitless as the thoughts of a man who delights only in mischief. Then Râvan hurled forth ten spears, which struck the four horses and brought them to the ground. Râma was furious: he raised the horses and then drew his bow and let fly his arrows. The edge of Raghubir's shafts swept off Râvan's heads as though they had been lotuses. He smote each of his ten heads with ten arrows: the blood gushed forth in torrents. Streaming with gore, he rushed on in his strength; but the Lord again fitted arrows to his bow and let fly thirty shafts; his heads and arms all fell to the ground. Again Râma smote away his arms and heads; for they had grown afresh after being cut off. Time after time the Lord struck off his arms and heads, but they were no sooner smitten off than they were again renewed. Again and again the Lord shred off his heads and arms. The king of Kosala mightily diverted himself. The whole heaven was full of heads and arms, like an infinite number of Ketus and Râhus.
Chhand 17.
As though a multitude of Râhus and Ketus streaming with gore were rushing through the air; for Raghubir's arrows had such force, that after hitting their mark they could not fall to the ground. Each arrow transfixing a set of heads seemed, as it flew through the sky, like a ray of the angry sun strung all over with moon-troublers.
Dohâ 89.
As quickly as the Lord struck off his heads, they were renewed again without end; like the passions of a man devoted to the world, which increase ever more and more.
Chaupâl.
When Râvan saw this multiplication of his heads, he thought no more of death and waxed still more furious. He thundered aloud in his insane pride, and rushed forward with his ten bows all strung at once, raging wildly on the field of battle, and overwhelmed Râma's chariot with such a shower of arrows that for a moment it was quite lost to sight, as when the sun is obscured by a mist. The gods cried, “Alack, alack!”; but the Lord wrathfully grasped his bow and parrying the arrows smote off his enemy's heads, which flew in all directions, covering heaven and earth. Severed as they were, they flew through the sky, uttering hideous cries of “Victory, victory!” “Where is Lakshman, where Sugriva and Angad; where Râma the prince of Kosala?”
As though a multitude of Râhus and Ketus streaming with gore were rushing through the air; for Raghubir's arrows had such force, that after hitting their mark they could not fall to the ground. Each arrow transfixing a set of heads seemed, as it flew through the sky, like a ray of the angry sun strung all over with moon-troublers.
Dohâ 89.
As quickly as the Lord struck off his heads, they were renewed again without end; like the passions of a man devoted to the world, which increase ever more and more.
Chaupâl.
When Râvan saw this multiplication of his heads, he thought no more of death and waxed still more furious. He thundered aloud in his insane pride, and rushed forward with his ten bows all strung at once, raging wildly on the field of battle, and overwhelmed Râma's chariot with such a shower of arrows that for a moment it was quite lost to sight, as when the sun is obscured by a mist. The gods cried, “Alack, alack!”; but the Lord wrathfully grasped his bow and parrying the arrows smote off his enemy's heads, which flew in all directions, covering heaven and earth. Severed as they were, they flew through the sky, uttering hideous cries of “Victory, victory!” “Where is Lakshman, where Sugriva and Angad; where Râma the prince of Kosala?”
Chhand 18.
“Where now is Râma?” cried the heads as they sped through the air. The monkeys saw and turned to flight; but the Jewel of the race of Raghu, with a smile, made ready his bow and with his arrows shot the heads through and through; as though the goddess Kâli, with a rosary of skulls in her hand and accompanied by all her attendants, had bathed in the river Plood and come to worship at the shrine of Battle.
Dohâ 90.
Again Râvan in his fury hurled forth his mightiest spear: like the bolt of death it flew straight for Vibhishan.
Chaupâl.
When he saw the awful spear coming, he cried, “My trust is in him who ever relieves the distress of the destitute,” and Râma at once put Vibhishan.
Hanumân hid behind him and exposed himself to the full force of the missile. When it struck, the Lord swooned for a while, a mimicry which filled the gods with dismay. When Vibhishan saw his lord fainting, he seized his club in his hand and rushed on in a fury:—“Ah, ill-starred wretch, fool, dull of understanding, enemy alike of gods, men, saints and Nâgas; inasmuch as you devoutly offered your head to Siva, you have received a thousand for one in return. This is the only reason why as yet you have escaped; but now death is dancing on your pate. Fool, to oppose Râma and yet hope to triumph.” So saying he struck him on the chest with his club.
“Where now is Râma?” cried the heads as they sped through the air. The monkeys saw and turned to flight; but the Jewel of the race of Raghu, with a smile, made ready his bow and with his arrows shot the heads through and through; as though the goddess Kâli, with a rosary of skulls in her hand and accompanied by all her attendants, had bathed in the river Plood and come to worship at the shrine of Battle.
Dohâ 90.
Again Râvan in his fury hurled forth his mightiest spear: like the bolt of death it flew straight for Vibhishan.
Chaupâl.
When he saw the awful spear coming, he cried, “My trust is in him who ever relieves the distress of the destitute,” and Râma at once put Vibhishan.
Hanumân hid behind him and exposed himself to the full force of the missile. When it struck, the Lord swooned for a while, a mimicry which filled the gods with dismay. When Vibhishan saw his lord fainting, he seized his club in his hand and rushed on in a fury:—“Ah, ill-starred wretch, fool, dull of understanding, enemy alike of gods, men, saints and Nâgas; inasmuch as you devoutly offered your head to Siva, you have received a thousand for one in return. This is the only reason why as yet you have escaped; but now death is dancing on your pate. Fool, to oppose Râma and yet hope to triumph.” So saying he struck him on the chest with his club.
Chhand 19.
At the terrible stroke of the mighty club on his chest he fell to the ground; but, his ten heads all streaming with blood, he again picked himself up and came on full of fury. The two closed with all their might in savage wrestle; each mauling the other: but Vibhishan was inspired with the strength of Râma, and fell upon him as though he were of no account whatever.
Dohâ 91.
O Umâ, Vibhishan would not have dared of himself to look Râvan in the face; but now in the might of Râma he closed with him like very death.
Chaupâi.
But Hanumân saw that Vibhishan was sorely exhausted and rushed forward with a rock in his hand, with which he crushed chariot, horses and driver, and gave the demon himself a kick in the ribs. He stood erect but trembled all over, and Vibhishan escaped into the presence of the Saviour of the world. Then Râvan fell upon the monkey, who spread his tail and flew into the air. He laid hold of the tail and so was borne aloft with the monkey, the mighty Hanumân, who again turned and closed with him. The well-matched pair continued fighting overhead, each furiously bruising the other, and putting forth all his strength and skill; as though mounts Anjan and Sumeru had come into collision in the heaven. The demon was so astute that there was no throwing him, till the Lord came to the support of the Son of the Wind.
At the terrible stroke of the mighty club on his chest he fell to the ground; but, his ten heads all streaming with blood, he again picked himself up and came on full of fury. The two closed with all their might in savage wrestle; each mauling the other: but Vibhishan was inspired with the strength of Râma, and fell upon him as though he were of no account whatever.
Dohâ 91.
O Umâ, Vibhishan would not have dared of himself to look Râvan in the face; but now in the might of Râma he closed with him like very death.
Chaupâi.
But Hanumân saw that Vibhishan was sorely exhausted and rushed forward with a rock in his hand, with which he crushed chariot, horses and driver, and gave the demon himself a kick in the ribs. He stood erect but trembled all over, and Vibhishan escaped into the presence of the Saviour of the world. Then Râvan fell upon the monkey, who spread his tail and flew into the air. He laid hold of the tail and so was borne aloft with the monkey, the mighty Hanumân, who again turned and closed with him. The well-matched pair continued fighting overhead, each furiously bruising the other, and putting forth all his strength and skill; as though mounts Anjan and Sumeru had come into collision in the heaven. The demon was so astute that there was no throwing him, till the Lord came to the support of the Son of the Wind.
Chhand 20.
Supported by Raghubir, the valiant monkey struck Râvan a violent blow. He fell to the ground, but rose again to fight, so that the gods shouted “victory” to both. Seeing Hanumân in such a strait, the monkeys and bears advanced in furious passion; but Râvan, battle-mad, crushed all their stoutest champions with the might of his terrible arm.
Dohâ 92.
Rallied by Raghubir, the bold monkeys came on again. Seeing them to be so strong, he had recourse to magic.
Chaupâi.
In a moment he became invisible and then again showed himself in a multitude of forms. Every bear and monkey in Râma’s army saw a separate Râvan confronting him. At the sight of such an infinity of Râvans, the bears and monkeys fled in all directions. Not one of them had the courage to stay, but all fled crying “Help, Lakshman; help, Raghubir.” Myriads of Râvans pursued them on every side, thundering aloud with hoarse and terrible cries. The gods were all panic-stricken and betook themselves to flight, saying: “Now, brother, abandon all hope of victory. A single Râvan subdued the heavenly host, and now there are many of them—make for the caves in the mountain.” Only Brahma and Sambhu and the wisest of the saints stood fast, who had some understanding of their lord’s might.
Chhand 21.
Supported by Raghubir, the valiant monkey struck Râvan a violent blow. He fell to the ground, but rose again to fight, so that the gods shouted “victory” to both. Seeing Hanumân in such a strait, the monkeys and bears advanced in furious passion; but Râvan, battle-mad, crushed all their stoutest champions with the might of his terrible arm.
Dohâ 92.
Rallied by Raghubir, the bold monkeys came on again. Seeing them to be so strong, he had recourse to magic.
Chaupâi.
In a moment he became invisible and then again showed himself in a multitude of forms. Every bear and monkey in Râma’s army saw a separate Râvan confronting him. At the sight of such an infinity of Râvans, the bears and monkeys fled in all directions. Not one of them had the courage to stay, but all fled crying “Help, Lakshman; help, Raghubir.” Myriads of Râvans pursued them on every side, thundering aloud with hoarse and terrible cries. The gods were all panic-stricken and betook themselves to flight, saying: “Now, brother, abandon all hope of victory. A single Râvan subdued the heavenly host, and now there are many of them—make for the caves in the mountain.” Only Brahma and Sambhu and the wisest of the saints stood fast, who had some understanding of their lord’s might.
Chhand 21.
They who understood his power remained fearless; but the monkeys took the apparitions for real enemies and fled, monkeys and bears alike, crying in their terror “Help, God of mercy.” Only Hanumân, Angad, Nila and Nala, the leaders of the host, fought bravely on against the delusive growth of giants and crushed thousands upon thousands of Râvans.
Dohâ 93.
The king of Kosala smiled to see the panic of the gods and monkeys, and stringing his bow dispersed with a single arrow the whole host of Râvans.
Chaupâi.
In a moment the Lord dispersed the whole phantom scene, as when the darkness is scattered at the rising of the sun. Seeing only one Râvan, the gods turned again with joy and showered down many flowers upon the Lord. Râma then raised his arms aloft and rallied the monkeys, who turned again, each shouting to his neighbour. Inspired by the might of their lord, the bears and monkeys went forth, and with renewed vigour re-entered the arena. When Râvan saw the gods exulting, he muttered: “They think I am now reduced to one; fools, you have ever been my prey.” So saying, he made a savage spring into the air, and as the gods fled screaming, he cried, “Wretches, whither can you go from my presence?” Seeing their dismay, Angad rushed forward and with a bound seized him by the foot and threw him to the ground.
Dohâ 93.
The king of Kosala smiled to see the panic of the gods and monkeys, and stringing his bow dispersed with a single arrow the whole host of Râvans.
Chaupâi.
In a moment the Lord dispersed the whole phantom scene, as when the darkness is scattered at the rising of the sun. Seeing only one Râvan, the gods turned again with joy and showered down many flowers upon the Lord. Râma then raised his arms aloft and rallied the monkeys, who turned again, each shouting to his neighbour. Inspired by the might of their lord, the bears and monkeys went forth, and with renewed vigour re-entered the arena. When Râvan saw the gods exulting, he muttered: “They think I am now reduced to one; fools, you have ever been my prey.” So saying, he made a savage spring into the air, and as the gods fled screaming, he cried, “Wretches, whither can you go from my presence?” Seeing their dismay, Angad rushed forward and with a bound seized him by the foot and threw him to the ground.
Chhand 23.
Having seized and hurled him to the ground, the son of Bâli gave him a kick and then rejoined his lord. The Ten-headed, on recovering himself, rose again and shouted terribly with a voice of thunder. Proudly he strung his bow, and fitting ten arrows to the string, he let fly many volleys, wounding all his enemies: at the sight of their confusion he gloried in his might.
Dohâ 94.
Then Baghupati cut off Râvan’s heads and arms, his arrows also and his bow; but they all sprouted again, like sins committed at a holy place.
Chaupâi.
Seeing the multiplication of their enemy’s heads and arms, the bears and monkeys were mightily indignant and rushed on in a fury, crying, “Will the wretch never die, with his heads and arms all cut off?” The son of Bâli, with Hanumân, Nala and Nila, the monkey king Sugriva and the valiant Dwivid, hurled upon him trees and mountains; but he caught each mountain and tree and threw them back upon the monkeys. One tore the enemy’s body with his claws, another would run past and kick him. But Nala and Nila clambered up on to his heads and set to tearing his face with their talons. When he saw the blood, he was sore troubled in soul and put up his arms to catch them; but they were not to be caught and sprang about over his hands, like two bees over a bed of lotuses. At last with a savage bound he clutched them both and dashed them to the ground, twisting and breaking their arms. Then in his fury he took his ten bows in his hands and with his arrows smote and wounded the monkeys, so that Hanumân and all were rendered senseless. The approach of night had invigorated him. Seeing all the monkey chiefs in a swoon, the valiant Jambavân rushed forward, and with him the bears, armed with mountains and trees, which they began hurling upon him. The mighty Râvan was enraged, and many of the heroes he seized by the leg and dashed to the ground. Their king was wrath to see such havoc among his troops and gave him a savage kick on the breast.
Having seized and hurled him to the ground, the son of Bâli gave him a kick and then rejoined his lord. The Ten-headed, on recovering himself, rose again and shouted terribly with a voice of thunder. Proudly he strung his bow, and fitting ten arrows to the string, he let fly many volleys, wounding all his enemies: at the sight of their confusion he gloried in his might.
Dohâ 94.
Then Baghupati cut off Râvan’s heads and arms, his arrows also and his bow; but they all sprouted again, like sins committed at a holy place.
Chaupâi.
Seeing the multiplication of their enemy’s heads and arms, the bears and monkeys were mightily indignant and rushed on in a fury, crying, “Will the wretch never die, with his heads and arms all cut off?” The son of Bâli, with Hanumân, Nala and Nila, the monkey king Sugriva and the valiant Dwivid, hurled upon him trees and mountains; but he caught each mountain and tree and threw them back upon the monkeys. One tore the enemy’s body with his claws, another would run past and kick him. But Nala and Nila clambered up on to his heads and set to tearing his face with their talons. When he saw the blood, he was sore troubled in soul and put up his arms to catch them; but they were not to be caught and sprang about over his hands, like two bees over a bed of lotuses. At last with a savage bound he clutched them both and dashed them to the ground, twisting and breaking their arms. Then in his fury he took his ten bows in his hands and with his arrows smote and wounded the monkeys, so that Hanumân and all were rendered senseless. The approach of night had invigorated him. Seeing all the monkey chiefs in a swoon, the valiant Jambavân rushed forward, and with him the bears, armed with mountains and trees, which they began hurling upon him. The mighty Râvan was enraged, and many of the heroes he seized by the leg and dashed to the ground. Their king was wrath to see such havoc among his troops and gave him a savage kick on the breast.
Chhand 29.
The blow smote him so heavily on the breast that he fell fainting from his chariot to the ground, grasping a bear in each of his twenty hands, like bees hiding by night in the folds of the lotus. Seeing him senseless, the king of the bears again struck him with his foot and then rejoined the Lord. As night had now come, the charioteer lifted Râvan on to the car and made off as best he could.
Dohâ 95.
On recovering from their swoon, the bears and monkeys all appeared before Râma; while all the demons crowded round Râvan in the utmost consternation.
Chaupâi.
During the night Trijatâ went to Sîtâ and told her the whole story. When Sîtâ heard of the multiplication of the enemy’s heads and arms, she was sorely dismayed and thus addressed Trijatâ, with downcast face and much anxiety of soul: “Why do you not tell me, mother, what is to be done, and how this plague of the universe can be put to death? He will not die even though Baghupati’s arrows have shorn off his heads; of a truth, God is making everything turn out perversely. It must be my ill-luck which gives him life; for I too survive, though separated from Râma’s lotus feet. The same fate that created the false phantom of the golden deer is still cruel to me. The god that enables me to support such insupportable anguish; which made me speak crossly to Lakshman; which keeps me alive under such pain, pierced through and through as I am with the poisoned arrows of Râma’s loss, arrows with which Love has smitten me: it is this god, I swear, that keeps him alive.” With many such words did Jânaki make piteous lamentation, as she recalled to mind the All-merciful. Trijatâ replied: “Hearken, royal maid, the enemy of the gods will die if an arrow strike him in the breast. But the Lord will not smite him there, because the image of Sîtâ is imprinted on his heart.
The blow smote him so heavily on the breast that he fell fainting from his chariot to the ground, grasping a bear in each of his twenty hands, like bees hiding by night in the folds of the lotus. Seeing him senseless, the king of the bears again struck him with his foot and then rejoined the Lord. As night had now come, the charioteer lifted Râvan on to the car and made off as best he could.
Dohâ 95.
On recovering from their swoon, the bears and monkeys all appeared before Râma; while all the demons crowded round Râvan in the utmost consternation.
Chaupâi.
During the night Trijatâ went to Sîtâ and told her the whole story. When Sîtâ heard of the multiplication of the enemy’s heads and arms, she was sorely dismayed and thus addressed Trijatâ, with downcast face and much anxiety of soul: “Why do you not tell me, mother, what is to be done, and how this plague of the universe can be put to death? He will not die even though Baghupati’s arrows have shorn off his heads; of a truth, God is making everything turn out perversely. It must be my ill-luck which gives him life; for I too survive, though separated from Râma’s lotus feet. The same fate that created the false phantom of the golden deer is still cruel to me. The god that enables me to support such insupportable anguish; which made me speak crossly to Lakshman; which keeps me alive under such pain, pierced through and through as I am with the poisoned arrows of Râma’s loss, arrows with which Love has smitten me: it is this god, I swear, that keeps him alive.” With many such words did Jânaki make piteous lamentation, as she recalled to mind the All-merciful. Trijatâ replied: “Hearken, royal maid, the enemy of the gods will die if an arrow strike him in the breast. But the Lord will not smite him there, because the image of Sîtâ is imprinted on his heart.
Chhand 24.
“Jânaki dwells in his heart and in Jânaki’s heart is my home; in my heart are all the spheres of creation; if an arrow lodge there all will be undone.” On hearing this explanation, she was somewhat comforted; but seeing her still uneasy in mind, Trijatâ continued: “Now this is the way the monster will be killed; hearken, fair lady, and cease to be so greatly disquieted.
“In the pain of having his heads cut off your image will be forgotten and the sagacious Râma will then smite him in the heart.”
Chaupâi.
With such words, having done all she could to comfort her, Trijatâ returned home again. But Sîtâ, reflecting on Râma’s amiability, was a prey to all the anguish of bereavement and broke out into reproaches of the night and the moon: “The night will never be spent, though it has seemed already an age.
Long. In her heart of hearts she made sore lamentation, sorrowing for Râma's loss. When the pangs of bereavement were at their very height, her left eye and arm throbbed. Considering this to be a good omen, she took courage: “I shall now see again the gracious Raghubîr.” Meanwhile Râvan had woke at midnight and began abusing his charioteer: “Fool, to bring me away from the field of battle; a curse on you for a vile dullard.” He laid hold of his feet and deprecated his wrath; and he, as soon as it was dawn, mounted his chariot and sallied forth again. When they heard of Râvan’s approach, the monkey army was greatly excited, and tearing up mountains and trees on every side the terrible warriors rushed to the onset, gnashing their teeth.
“Jânaki dwells in his heart and in Jânaki’s heart is my home; in my heart are all the spheres of creation; if an arrow lodge there all will be undone.” On hearing this explanation, she was somewhat comforted; but seeing her still uneasy in mind, Trijatâ continued: “Now this is the way the monster will be killed; hearken, fair lady, and cease to be so greatly disquieted.
“In the pain of having his heads cut off your image will be forgotten and the sagacious Râma will then smite him in the heart.”
Chaupâi.
With such words, having done all she could to comfort her, Trijatâ returned home again. But Sîtâ, reflecting on Râma’s amiability, was a prey to all the anguish of bereavement and broke out into reproaches of the night and the moon: “The night will never be spent, though it has seemed already an age.
Long. In her heart of hearts she made sore lamentation, sorrowing for Râma's loss. When the pangs of bereavement were at their very height, her left eye and arm throbbed. Considering this to be a good omen, she took courage: “I shall now see again the gracious Raghubîr.” Meanwhile Râvan had woke at midnight and began abusing his charioteer: “Fool, to bring me away from the field of battle; a curse on you for a vile dullard.” He laid hold of his feet and deprecated his wrath; and he, as soon as it was dawn, mounted his chariot and sallied forth again. When they heard of Râvan’s approach, the monkey army was greatly excited, and tearing up mountains and trees on every side the terrible warriors rushed to the onset, gnashing their teeth.
Chhand 25.
The huge monkeys and terrible bears rushed on, with mountains in their hands, which they hurled forth with the utmost fury; the demons turned and fled. When they had thus scattered the ranks, the valiant monkeys next closed around Râvan, buffeting him on every side and tearing him with their claws, so that his whole body was mangled.
Dohâ 97.
Seeing the monkeys so powerful, Râvan took thought, and in a moment became invisible and created a magic illusion.
Chhand Tamara.
By the magic that he wrought terrible beings were manifested; imps, demons and goblins, with bows and arrows in their hands, witches clutching swords and in one hand a human skull, from which they quaff draughts of blood, dancing and singing many a song. Their horrible cries of “seize and kill” echo all around, while dogs with open mouths run to and fro. Then began the monkeys to flee; but wherever they turn in flight, they see a blazing fire. Monkeys and bears were both in dismay. Then there fell upon them a shower of sand. They were routed on all sides and the Ten-headed roared again. Lakshman, the monkey-king and all the chiefs were at their wits’ end. The bravest of them wrung their hands, crying “alas, Râma; alas Raghunâth.” After crushing all their might in this fashion, he next practised another kind of magic. A host of Hanumâns were manifested, who rushed forward with rocks in their hands and encircled Râma in a dense mass on every side. With gnashing teeth and up-turned tail, they shouted “kill, hold fast, never let him go”; their tails making a complete circle all round with the king of Kosala in the midst.
The huge monkeys and terrible bears rushed on, with mountains in their hands, which they hurled forth with the utmost fury; the demons turned and fled. When they had thus scattered the ranks, the valiant monkeys next closed around Râvan, buffeting him on every side and tearing him with their claws, so that his whole body was mangled.
Dohâ 97.
Seeing the monkeys so powerful, Râvan took thought, and in a moment became invisible and created a magic illusion.
Chhand Tamara.
By the magic that he wrought terrible beings were manifested; imps, demons and goblins, with bows and arrows in their hands, witches clutching swords and in one hand a human skull, from which they quaff draughts of blood, dancing and singing many a song. Their horrible cries of “seize and kill” echo all around, while dogs with open mouths run to and fro. Then began the monkeys to flee; but wherever they turn in flight, they see a blazing fire. Monkeys and bears were both in dismay. Then there fell upon them a shower of sand. They were routed on all sides and the Ten-headed roared again. Lakshman, the monkey-king and all the chiefs were at their wits’ end. The bravest of them wrung their hands, crying “alas, Râma; alas Raghunâth.” After crushing all their might in this fashion, he next practised another kind of magic. A host of Hanumâns were manifested, who rushed forward with rocks in their hands and encircled Râma in a dense mass on every side. With gnashing teeth and up-turned tail, they shouted “kill, hold fast, never let him go”; their tails making a complete circle all round with the king of Kosala in the midst.
Chhand 27-28.
In their midst the dark-hued king of Kosala shone forth as resplendent in beauty as a lofty tamâl tree encircled by a hedge of gleaming rainbows. As they gazed upon the Lord, the heart of the gods was moved with mingled joy and grief, while they raised the cry of “victory, victory.” In a moment and with a single arrow Raghubîr indignantly dispelled the delusion. As the phantoms vanished, the monkeys and bears rejoiced and all turned again, with trees and rocks in their hands. Râma shot forth a flight of arrows and Râvan’s heads and arms again fell to the ground. Though a hundred Sesh-nâgs, Sâradâs and Vedic bards were to spend many ages in singing the various achievements of Râma in his battle with Râvan, they would never come to the end of them.
Dohâ 98.
Tulsi Dâs, poor clown, who would tell even the least part of his glory, is like a gnat who thinks himself strong enough to fly up into heaven. Though his heads and arms were cut off again and again, the mighty king of Lankâ was not killed. Sages, saints and gods were confounded by the agonizing sight, the pastime of their lord.
Chaupâi.
No sooner were his heads cut off than a fresh crop grew, like covetousness increased by gain. For all his toil the monster died not and Râma then turned and looked at Vibhishan. O Umâ, the Lord, whom fate and death obey, thus tested the devotion of one of his creatures. “Hearken omniscient sovereign of all things animate and inanimate, defender of the suppliant, delight of gods and saints, it is only, sire, by virtue of the nectar that abides in the depth of His navel that Râvan lives.” On hearing Vibhishan’s speech the All-merciful was pleased and took his terrible arrows in his hand. Many omens of ill then began to present themselves: asses, jackals and packs of dogs set up a howling; birds screamed over the distress of the world and comets appeared in every quarter of the Heaven; fierce flames broke out on every side, and though there was no new moon, the sun was eclipsed. Mandodarî’s heart beat wildly and statues flowed with tears from their eyes.
In their midst the dark-hued king of Kosala shone forth as resplendent in beauty as a lofty tamâl tree encircled by a hedge of gleaming rainbows. As they gazed upon the Lord, the heart of the gods was moved with mingled joy and grief, while they raised the cry of “victory, victory.” In a moment and with a single arrow Raghubîr indignantly dispelled the delusion. As the phantoms vanished, the monkeys and bears rejoiced and all turned again, with trees and rocks in their hands. Râma shot forth a flight of arrows and Râvan’s heads and arms again fell to the ground. Though a hundred Sesh-nâgs, Sâradâs and Vedic bards were to spend many ages in singing the various achievements of Râma in his battle with Râvan, they would never come to the end of them.
Dohâ 98.
Tulsi Dâs, poor clown, who would tell even the least part of his glory, is like a gnat who thinks himself strong enough to fly up into heaven. Though his heads and arms were cut off again and again, the mighty king of Lankâ was not killed. Sages, saints and gods were confounded by the agonizing sight, the pastime of their lord.
Chaupâi.
No sooner were his heads cut off than a fresh crop grew, like covetousness increased by gain. For all his toil the monster died not and Râma then turned and looked at Vibhishan. O Umâ, the Lord, whom fate and death obey, thus tested the devotion of one of his creatures. “Hearken omniscient sovereign of all things animate and inanimate, defender of the suppliant, delight of gods and saints, it is only, sire, by virtue of the nectar that abides in the depth of His navel that Râvan lives.” On hearing Vibhishan’s speech the All-merciful was pleased and took his terrible arrows in his hand. Many omens of ill then began to present themselves: asses, jackals and packs of dogs set up a howling; birds screamed over the distress of the world and comets appeared in every quarter of the Heaven; fierce flames broke out on every side, and though there was no new moon, the sun was eclipsed. Mandodarî’s heart beat wildly and statues flowed with tears from their eyes.
Chhand 29.
Statues wept, thunder crashed in the air, a mighty wind blew, the earth quaked, the clouds dropped blood, hair and dust: who could recount all the portents? At the sight of such unspeakable confusion the gods of heaven in dismay uttered prayers for victory. Perceiving their distress, the merciful Raghupati set arrows to his bow;
Dohâ 99.
and drawing the string to his ear he let fly at once thirty-one shafts. The bolts of Raghu-nâyak flew forth like the serpents of death.
Chaupâî
One arrow dried up the depth of his navel, the others struck off his heads and arms, and with such violence that they carried heads and arms away with them. The headless and armless trunk still danced upon the plain. The earth sank beneath the weight of the body as it rushed wildly on, till the Lord with his arrows smote it in twain. At the moment of death he thundered aloud with a fierce and terrible yell: “Where is Râma, that I may challenge and slay him?” The earth reeled as Râvan fell; the sea, the rivers, the elephants of the eight quarters and the mountains were all shaken. The two halves lay full length upon the ground, thronged by a crowd of bears and monkeys. But the arrows deposited the heads and arms before Mandodari and then returned to the lord of the universe and dropped again into the quiver. Seeing this, the gods sounded their kettle-drums. His soul entered the Lord’s mouth; Siva and Brahma rejoiced to see the sight. The whole universe resounded with cries of “victory, victory: glory to Raghubîr, the mighty of arm; glory to the All-merciful: glory to Mukunda”; while throngs of gods and saints rained down flowers.
Statues wept, thunder crashed in the air, a mighty wind blew, the earth quaked, the clouds dropped blood, hair and dust: who could recount all the portents? At the sight of such unspeakable confusion the gods of heaven in dismay uttered prayers for victory. Perceiving their distress, the merciful Raghupati set arrows to his bow;
Dohâ 99.
and drawing the string to his ear he let fly at once thirty-one shafts. The bolts of Raghu-nâyak flew forth like the serpents of death.
Chaupâî
One arrow dried up the depth of his navel, the others struck off his heads and arms, and with such violence that they carried heads and arms away with them. The headless and armless trunk still danced upon the plain. The earth sank beneath the weight of the body as it rushed wildly on, till the Lord with his arrows smote it in twain. At the moment of death he thundered aloud with a fierce and terrible yell: “Where is Râma, that I may challenge and slay him?” The earth reeled as Râvan fell; the sea, the rivers, the elephants of the eight quarters and the mountains were all shaken. The two halves lay full length upon the ground, thronged by a crowd of bears and monkeys. But the arrows deposited the heads and arms before Mandodari and then returned to the lord of the universe and dropped again into the quiver. Seeing this, the gods sounded their kettle-drums. His soul entered the Lord’s mouth; Siva and Brahma rejoiced to see the sight. The whole universe resounded with cries of “victory, victory: glory to Raghubîr, the mighty of arm; glory to the All-merciful: glory to Mukunda”; while throngs of gods and saints rained down flowers.
Chhand 30-31.
“Glory to Mukunda, the fountain of mercy, the subduer of rebellion, our refuge, our health-giving lord; the scatterer of the ranks of the impious, the great First Cause, the compassionate, the ever Supreme.” All the gods in their joy showered down flowers and the kettle-drums sounded aloud, while on the field of battle Râma’s every limb displayed the beauty of a myriad Loves. The crown on his coil of hair all besprinkled with blossoms emitted rays of splendour like flashes of lightning gleaming amidst the star-lit peaks of a dark mountain. With bow and arrows brandished in his arms, his body, spangled with specks of blood, seemed like a swarm of spotted amadavads joyously perched on a tamâl tree.
Dohâ 100.
With a shower of gracious glances the Lord dispelled the fears of all the gods; and bears and monkeys shouted in their joy, “Glory to Mukunda, the abode of bliss.”
Chaupâî
“Glory to Mukunda, the fountain of mercy, the subduer of rebellion, our refuge, our health-giving lord; the scatterer of the ranks of the impious, the great First Cause, the compassionate, the ever Supreme.” All the gods in their joy showered down flowers and the kettle-drums sounded aloud, while on the field of battle Râma’s every limb displayed the beauty of a myriad Loves. The crown on his coil of hair all besprinkled with blossoms emitted rays of splendour like flashes of lightning gleaming amidst the star-lit peaks of a dark mountain. With bow and arrows brandished in his arms, his body, spangled with specks of blood, seemed like a swarm of spotted amadavads joyously perched on a tamâl tree.
Dohâ 100.
With a shower of gracious glances the Lord dispelled the fears of all the gods; and bears and monkeys shouted in their joy, “Glory to Mukunda, the abode of bliss.”
Chaupâî
When Mandodari saw her lord’s heads, she fainted in her grief and fell to the ground. Her bevy of weeping maidens sprang up in haste and supported her and brought her to Râvan’s body. When she saw her lord’s condition she set up a shriek, her hair flew loose, and there was no strength left in her body. Wildly beating her bosom and weeping, she recounted all his glory: “At your might, my lord, the earth ever trembled; fire, moon, and sun were bereft of splendour. The great serpent and tortoise could not bear the weight of your body, which now lies on the ground, a mere heap of ashes. Varuna, Kuver, Indra, and the Wind-god had never the courage to face you in battle. By the might of your arm, O my lord, you conquered death and fate; but to-day you have fallen like the poorest creature. Your magnificence was renowned throughout the world; while the strength of your son and your kinsmen surpassed description. But you withstood Râma and this is now your condition; not one of your stock is left even to make lamentation. The whole sphere of creation was in your power, my lord, and the frightened regents of the eight quarters ever bowed their heads before you; but now jackals devour your heads and arms; and rightly so, seeing that you opposed Râma. Death-doomed, my lord, you heeded not my words, and took the sovereign of all things animate and inanimate for a mere man.
Chhand 32.
“You took for a man, Hari, the self-existent, that fire to consume the forest of devil-dom; and you worshipped not, O my spouse, the All-merciful, to whom Siva and Brahma and all the gods do reverence. From your birth you have delighted to injure others, and this your body has been a very sink of sin, and yet Râma has now raised you to His own abode: I bow before the blameless God.
Dohâ 101.
“Ah my lord, there is none other so gracious as Raghunâth, the great God, who has given you a rank, to which the company of saints can with difficulty attain.”
When they heard Mandodari’s speech, gods, saints and sages were all enraptured. Brahma, Siva, Nârad, Sanat-kumâra and all the great seers who have preached the way of salvation, gazed upon Raghupati with eyes full of tears and were overwhelmed with devotion. Seeing all the women making lamentation, Vibhishan went to the spot, his heart heavy with grief, and was sorely pained to see his brother’s condition. Then the Lord gave an order to Lakshman, who did all that he could to console him. At last Vibhishan betook himself to the Lord, who looked upon him with an eye of compassion and said, “Make an end of sorrow and perform the funeral rites.” In obedience to his command he celebrated the obsequies, wisely bearing in mind the circumstances of time and place.
“You took for a man, Hari, the self-existent, that fire to consume the forest of devil-dom; and you worshipped not, O my spouse, the All-merciful, to whom Siva and Brahma and all the gods do reverence. From your birth you have delighted to injure others, and this your body has been a very sink of sin, and yet Râma has now raised you to His own abode: I bow before the blameless God.
Dohâ 101.
“Ah my lord, there is none other so gracious as Raghunâth, the great God, who has given you a rank, to which the company of saints can with difficulty attain.”
When they heard Mandodari’s speech, gods, saints and sages were all enraptured. Brahma, Siva, Nârad, Sanat-kumâra and all the great seers who have preached the way of salvation, gazed upon Raghupati with eyes full of tears and were overwhelmed with devotion. Seeing all the women making lamentation, Vibhishan went to the spot, his heart heavy with grief, and was sorely pained to see his brother’s condition. Then the Lord gave an order to Lakshman, who did all that he could to console him. At last Vibhishan betook himself to the Lord, who looked upon him with an eye of compassion and said, “Make an end of sorrow and perform the funeral rites.” In obedience to his command he celebrated the obsequies, wisely bearing in mind the circumstances of time and place.
all to life, wise king of heaven.” Hearken, Ganir, this request of the Lord’s is a mystery that only the greatest sages can apprehend. The Lord could himself destroy and re-create the three spheres of creation; only He wished to do Indra honour. With a shower of ambrosia he restored the bears and monkeys to life. They arose with joy and all betook them to the Lord. The shower of ambrosia fell on both armies; but the bears and monkeys came to life, not the demons. The image of Râma was impressed upon the demons’ soul; thus they were loosed from the fetters of existence and became absorbed in the divinity. The bears and monkeys were partial incarnations of the gods and were really all alive; but it was the will of Raghupati. Who is there so kind to the destitute as Râma, who granted final deliverance even to the host of demons, while that filthy and sensual monster Râvan obtained translation to the same sphere as the holiest of saints.
Dohâ 111.
After showering down flowers, the gods mounted their splendid chariots and withdrew. Then seeing his opportunity the sagacious Sambhu drew near to Râma. Most lovingly, with clasped hands, his lotus eyes full of tears and his body quivering all over, Tripurâri uttered this prayer with choking voice:—
Dohâ 111.
After showering down flowers, the gods mounted their splendid chariots and withdrew. Then seeing his opportunity the sagacious Sambhu drew near to Râma. Most lovingly, with clasped hands, his lotus eyes full of tears and his body quivering all over, Tripurâri uttered this prayer with choking voice:—
Chhand 39.
Save me, O prince of the house of Raghu, equipped with Thy strong bow and graceful arrows in Thy hand; dispeller of the murky clouds of delusion; fire to consume the forest of doubt; delight of the gods; unembodied yet embodied; glorious shrine of perfection; sun of vehement splendour to disperse the darkness of error; a very lion to attack the elephantine monsters, lust, anger and pride; take up thy abode for ever, as in some forest, in the heart of thy servant. Stern frost for the lotus growth of sensual desires; gracious beyond all conception; a Mount Meru to churn up the ocean of life; dweller of the highest sphere; avert from me the stormy waves of the world or transport me across them. O king Râma, dark-hued and lotus-eyed, protector of the poor, soother of the sorrows of the distressed, dwell for ever in my heart with Lakshman and Jânaki, delight of the saints, glory of the terrestrial sphere, uprooter of every terror, Tulsi Das’s own lord.
Dohâ 112.
“When your coronation, O my lord, takes place at Kosala, I will come to see the glorious ceremony, O greatly compassionate.”
Chaupâl.
When Sambhu had finished his prayer and gone away, then Vibhishan approached the Lord. Bowing his head at his feet he cried in pleading tones:—
Save me, O prince of the house of Raghu, equipped with Thy strong bow and graceful arrows in Thy hand; dispeller of the murky clouds of delusion; fire to consume the forest of doubt; delight of the gods; unembodied yet embodied; glorious shrine of perfection; sun of vehement splendour to disperse the darkness of error; a very lion to attack the elephantine monsters, lust, anger and pride; take up thy abode for ever, as in some forest, in the heart of thy servant. Stern frost for the lotus growth of sensual desires; gracious beyond all conception; a Mount Meru to churn up the ocean of life; dweller of the highest sphere; avert from me the stormy waves of the world or transport me across them. O king Râma, dark-hued and lotus-eyed, protector of the poor, soother of the sorrows of the distressed, dwell for ever in my heart with Lakshman and Jânaki, delight of the saints, glory of the terrestrial sphere, uprooter of every terror, Tulsi Das’s own lord.
Dohâ 112.
“When your coronation, O my lord, takes place at Kosala, I will come to see the glorious ceremony, O greatly compassionate.”
Chaupâl.
When Sambhu had finished his prayer and gone away, then Vibhishan approached the Lord. Bowing his head at his feet he cried in pleading tones:—
“Hearken to my prayer, O Lord, with bow in hand. You have slain Râvan with all his kindred and all his army and made your unsullied glory known throughout the three spheres. On me, Your vile servant, without either sense or breeding, You have in every way shown compassion; now, Sire, honour your servant’s house and bathe and refresh yourself after the toil of the battle. Inspect my treasure, my palace, and my wealth, and by this condescension make all the monkeys happy. Consider, my Lord, everything that I have as your own, and moreover take me with you to Avadh.” When the All-merciful heard this affecting speech, both his great eyes filled with tears.
Dohâ 113.
“Hearken, brother; all you say is true; Your house and treasure are as my own; but thinking of Bharat’s condition every minute seems to me an age. In penitential attire, with emaciated body, he is ever repeating my name in prayer. I entreat you, friend, to make an effort so that I may soon be able to see him again. If at the end of my time I go and find him no longer alive”—at the remembrance of his brother’s affection, the Lord’s body quivered all over—“but may you reign for ages, Your soul ever mindful of me, and at the last enter into my sphere, where all the good go.”
Dohâ 113.
“Hearken, brother; all you say is true; Your house and treasure are as my own; but thinking of Bharat’s condition every minute seems to me an age. In penitential attire, with emaciated body, he is ever repeating my name in prayer. I entreat you, friend, to make an effort so that I may soon be able to see him again. If at the end of my time I go and find him no longer alive”—at the remembrance of his brother’s affection, the Lord’s body quivered all over—“but may you reign for ages, Your soul ever mindful of me, and at the last enter into my sphere, where all the good go.”
Chaupâl.
When Vibhishan heard Râma’s words, he was overjoyed and clasped the feet of the All-merciful. All the bears and monkeys with equal joy clasped the Lord’s feet and recited His glorious merits. Then Vibhishan proceeded to the palace and loaded the chariot with jewels and attire. When he had brought the car Pushpaka and set it before the Lord, the All-merciful smiled and said: “Hearken, friend Vibhishan; step into the car, and when you have risen high into the air, throw down the dresses and jewels.” Accordingly Vibhishan mounted aloft into the heaven and scrambled the raiment and jewels among them all. The monkeys picked up anything they fancied, cramming the precious things into their mouth: while Râma and his wife and brother laughed; so full of playfulness is the All-merciful.
Dohâ 114.
He, to whom the saints cannot attain by contemplation, whom the Veda itself fails to fathom, even he in his infinite compassion made merry with the monkeys. O mind, abstraction, prayer, charity, penance, the different forms of fasting, sacrifice and vows,—all move Râma’s compassion less than simple love.
Chaupâl.
When Vibhishan heard Râma’s words, he was overjoyed and clasped the feet of the All-merciful. All the bears and monkeys with equal joy clasped the Lord’s feet and recited His glorious merits. Then Vibhishan proceeded to the palace and loaded the chariot with jewels and attire. When he had brought the car Pushpaka and set it before the Lord, the All-merciful smiled and said: “Hearken, friend Vibhishan; step into the car, and when you have risen high into the air, throw down the dresses and jewels.” Accordingly Vibhishan mounted aloft into the heaven and scrambled the raiment and jewels among them all. The monkeys picked up anything they fancied, cramming the precious things into their mouth: while Râma and his wife and brother laughed; so full of playfulness is the All-merciful.
Dohâ 114.
He, to whom the saints cannot attain by contemplation, whom the Veda itself fails to fathom, even he in his infinite compassion made merry with the monkeys. O mind, abstraction, prayer, charity, penance, the different forms of fasting, sacrifice and vows,—all move Râma’s compassion less than simple love.
Chaupâl.