The Ramayana Part 165

Canto XX. The Spies.

Sardula, Rava?'s spy, surveyed The legions on the strand arrayed.

And bore, his bosom racked with fear, These tidings to the monarch's ear:

"They come, they come. A rus.h.i.+ng tide, Ten leagues they spread from side to side, And on to storm thy city press, Fierce rovers of the wilderness.

Rich in each princely power and grace, The pride of Dasaratha's race, Rama and Lakshma? lead their bands, And halt them on the ocean sands.

O Monarch, rise, this peril meet; Risk not the danger of defeat.

First let each wiser art be tried; Bribe them, or win them, or divide."

Such was the counsel of the spy: And Rava? called to Suka: "Fly, Sugriva lord of Vanars seek, And thus my kingly message speak: "Great power and might and fame are thine, Brave scion of a royal line, King Riksharajas' son, in thee A brother and a friend I see.

How wronged by me canst thou complain?

What profit here pretend to gain?

If from the wood the wife I stole Of Rama of the prudent soul, What cause hast thou to mourn the theft?

Thou art not injured or bereft.

Return, O King, thy steps retrace And seek thy mountain dwelling-place.

No, never may thy hosts within My Lanka's walls a footing win.

A mighty town whose strength defies The gathered armies of the skies."

He ceased: obedient Suka heard; With wings and plumage of a bird He rose in eager speed and through The air upon his errand flew.

Borne o'er the sea with rapid wing He stood above the Vanar king, And spoke aloud, sublime in air, The message he was charged to bear.

The Vanar heard the words he spoke, And quick redoubling stroke on stroke On head and pinions hemmed him round And bore him struggling to the ground.

The Rakshas wounded and distressed These words to Raghu's son addressed:

"Quick, quick! This Vanar host restrain, For heralds never must be slain.

To him alone, a wretch untrue, The punishment of death is due Who leaves his master's speech unsaid And speaks another in its stead."

Moved by the suppliant speech and prayer Up sprang the prince and cried, forbear.

Saved from his wild a.s.sailant's blows Again the Rakshas herald rose And borne on light wings to the sky Addressed Sugriva from on high: "O Vanar Monarch, chief endued With power and wonderous fort.i.tude, What answer is my king, the fear And scourge of weeping worlds, to hear?"

"Go tell thy lord," Sugriva cried, "Thou, Rama's foe, art thus defied.

His arm the guilty Bali slew; Thus, tyrant, shalt thou perish too.

Thy sons, thy friends, proud King, and all Thy kith and kin with thee shall fall; And, emptied of the giant's brood, Burnt Lanka be a solitude.

Fly to the Sun-G.o.d's pathway, go And hide thee deep in h.e.l.l below: In vain from Rama shalt thou flee Though heavenly warriors fight for thee.

Thine arm subdued, securely bold, The Vulture-king infirm and old: But will thy puny strength avail When Raghu's wrathful sons a.s.sail?

A captive in thy palace lies The lady of the lotus eyes: Thou knowest not how fierce and strong Is he whom thou hast dared to wrong.

The best of Raghu's lineage, he Whose conquering hand shall punish thee."

He ceased: and Angad raised a cry; "This is no herald but a spy.

Above thee from his airy post His rapid eye surveyed our host, Where with advantage he might scan Our gathered strength from rear to van.

Bind him, Vanars, bind the spy, Nor let him back to Lanka fly."

They hurled the Rakshas to the ground, They grasped his neck, his pinions bound, And firmly held him while in vain His voice was lifted to complain.

But Rama's heart inclined to spare, He listened to his plaint and prayer, And cried aloud: "O Vanars, cease; The captive from his bonds release."

Canto XXI. Ocean Threatened.

His hands in reverence Rama raised And southward o'er the ocean gazed; Then on the sacred gra.s.s that made His lowly couch his limbs he laid.

His head on that strong arm reclined Which Sita, best of womankind, Had loved in happier days to hold With soft arms decked with pearls and gold.

Then rising from his bed of gra.s.s, "This day," he cried, "the host shall pa.s.s Triumphant to the southern sh.o.r.e, Or Ocean's self shall be no more."

Thus vowing in his constant breast Again he turned him to his rest, And there, his eyes in slumber closed, Silent beside the sea reposed.

Thrice rose the Day-G.o.d thrice he set, The lord of Ocean came not yet, Thrice came the night, but Raghu's son No answer by his service won.

To Lakshma? thus the hero cried, His eyes aflame with wrath and pride:

"In vain the softer gifts that grace The good are offered to the base.

Long-suffering, patience, gentle speech Their thankless hearts can never reach.

The world to him its honour pays Whose ready tongue himself can praise, Who scorns the true, and hates the right, Whose hand is ever raised to smite.

Each milder art is tried in vain: It wins no glory, but disdain.

And victory owns no softer charm Than might which nerves a warrior's arm.

My humble suit is still denied By Ocean's overweening pride.

This day the monsters of the deep In throes of death shall wildly leap.

My shafts shall rend the serpents curled In caverns of the watery world, Disclose each sunless depth and bare The tangled pearl and coral there.

Away with mercy! at a time Like this compa.s.sion is a crime.

Welcome, the battle and the foe!

My bow! my arrows and my bow!

This day the Vanars' feet shall tread The conquered Sea's exhausted bed, And he who never feared before Shall tremble to his farthest sh.o.r.e."

Red flashed his eyes with angry glow: He stood and grasped his mighty bow, Terrific as the fire of doom Whose quenchless flames the world consume.

His clanging cord the archer drew, And swift the fiery arrows flew Fierce as the flas.h.i.+ng levin sent By him who rules the firmament.

Down through the startled waters sped Each missile with its flaming head.

The foamy billows rose and sank, And dashed upon the trembling bank.

Sea monsters of tremendous form With crash and roar of thunder storm.

Still the wild waters rose and fell Crowned with white foam and pearl and sh.e.l.l.

Each serpent, startled from his rest, Raised his fierce eyes and glowing crest.

And prisoned Danavs(933) where they dwelt In depths below the terror felt.

Again upon his string he laid A flaming shaft, but Lakshma? stayed His arm, with gentle reasoning tried To soothe his angry mood, and cried: "Brother, reflect: the wise control The rising pa.s.sions of the soul.

Let Ocean grant, without thy threat, The boon on which thy heart is set.

That gracious lord will ne'er refuse When Rama son of Raghu sues."

He ceased: and voices from the air Fell clear and loud, Spare, Rama, spare.

Canto XXII. Ocean Threatened.

With angry menace Rama, best Of Raghu's sons, the Sea addressed: "With fiery flood of arrowy rain Thy channels will I dry and drain.

And I and all the Vanar host Will reach on foot the farther coast.

Thou shalt not from destruction save The creatures of the teeming wave, And lapse of time shall ne'er efface The memory of the dire disgrace."

Thus spoke the warrior, and prepared The mortal shaft which never spared, Known mystic weapon, by the name Of Brahma, red with quenchless flame.

Great terror, as he strained the bow, Struck heaven above and earth below.

Through echoing skies the thunder pealed, And startled mountains rocked and reeled, The earth was black with sudden night And heaven was blotted from the sight.

Then ever and anon the glare Of meteors shot through murky air, And with a wild terrific sound Red lightnings struck the trembling ground.

In furious gusts the fierce wind blew: Tall trees it shattered and o'erthrew, And, smiting with a giant's stroke, Huge ma.s.ses from the mountain broke.

A cry of terror long and shrill Came from each valley, plain, and hill.

Each ruined dale, each riven peak Re-echoed with a wail or shriek.