While Bharat’s soul was thus sinking in the sea of Râma’s bereavement, the Son of the Wind, disguised in form as a Brâhman, came like a boat to his rescue. Seeing him seated on a mat of sacred grass, with matted hair for a crown, his body all wasted away, his lips muttering the names “Râma, Râma, Raghupati,” and his eyes streaming with tears:
At this sight Hanuman was overjoyed; every hair on his body stood erect, and his eyes rained torrents. He felt at heart an indescribable satisfaction and addressed him in words that were as ambrosia to his ears: “He, for whose loss you sorrow night and day, the catalogue of whose virtues you are incessantly reciting, the glory of the line of Raghu, the benefactor of the pious, the deliverer of gods and saints, has arrived safely. After conquering the foe in the battle, with the gods to hymn his praises, the Lord is now on his way with Sita and his brother.” On hearing these words he forgot all his pain, like a man dying of thirst who finds a stream of nectar. “Who are you, Sir, and whence have you come, who have told me such glad tidings?” “I am the son of the Wind, a monkey, Hanuman by name, O fountain of mercy, a servant of the beneficent Raghupati.” On hearing this, Bharat rose and respectfully advanced to meet him. The affection with which he embraced him was too great for his heart to contain; his eyes streamed with tears and his body quivered all over. “O monkey, at the sight of you all my sorrows are gone; to-day I have embraced a friend of Rama’s.” Again and again he asked of his welfare: “Hearken, brother; what is there I can give you? After taking thought, I find nothing in the whole world to match this news. Otherwise, I should be your debtor.
At this sight Hanuman was overjoyed; every hair on his body stood erect, and his eyes rained torrents. He felt at heart an indescribable satisfaction and addressed him in words that were as ambrosia to his ears: “He, for whose loss you sorrow night and day, the catalogue of whose virtues you are incessantly reciting, the glory of the line of Raghu, the benefactor of the pious, the deliverer of gods and saints, has arrived safely. After conquering the foe in the battle, with the gods to hymn his praises, the Lord is now on his way with Sita and his brother.” On hearing these words he forgot all his pain, like a man dying of thirst who finds a stream of nectar. “Who are you, Sir, and whence have you come, who have told me such glad tidings?” “I am the son of the Wind, a monkey, Hanuman by name, O fountain of mercy, a servant of the beneficent Raghupati.” On hearing this, Bharat rose and respectfully advanced to meet him. The affection with which he embraced him was too great for his heart to contain; his eyes streamed with tears and his body quivered all over. “O monkey, at the sight of you all my sorrows are gone; to-day I have embraced a friend of Rama’s.” Again and again he asked of his welfare: “Hearken, brother; what is there I can give you? After taking thought, I find nothing in the whole world to match this news. Otherwise, I should be your debtor.