The Ramayana Part 179

The remnant of those legions, they Who saw his power that fatal day, Now in this leaguered city dread The mighty chief from whom they fled.

And wouldst thou meet the lord of men, Beard the great lion in his den, And, when thine eyes are open, break The slumber of a deadly snake?

Who may an equal battle wage With him, so awful in his rage, Fierce as the G.o.d of Death whom none May vanquish, Dasaratha's son?

But, Rava?, shall the lady still Refuse compliance with thy will?

No, listen, King, to this design Which soon shall make the captive thine.

This day through Lanka's streets proclaim That four of us(974) of highest fame With k.u.mbhakar?a at our head Will strike the son of Raghu dead.

Forth to the battle will we go And prove our prowess on the foe.

Then, if our bold attempt succeed, No further plans thy hopes will need.

But if in vain our warriors strive, And Raghu's son be left alive, We will return, and, wounded sore, Our armour stained with gouts of gore, Will show the shafts that rent each frame, Keen arrows marked with Rama's name, And say we giants have devoured The princes whom our might o'erpowered.

Then let the joyful tidings spread That Raghu's royal sons are dead.

To all around thy pleasure show, Gold, pearls, and precious robes, bestow.

Gay garlands round the portals twine, Enjoy the banquet and the wine.

Then go, the scornful lady seek, And woo her when her heart is weak.

Rich robes and gold and gems display, And gently wile her grief away.

Then will she feel her hopeless state, Widowed, forlorn, and desolate; Know that on thee her bliss depends, Far from her country and her friends; Then, her proud spirit overthrown, The lady will be all thine own."

Canto LXV. k.u.mbhakarna's Speech.

But haughty k.u.mbhakar?a spurned His counsel, and to Rava? turned: "Thy life from peril will I free And slay the foe who threatens thee.

A hero never vaunts in vain, Like bellowing clouds devoid of rain, Nor, Monarch, be thine ear inclined To counsellors of slavish kind, Who with mean arts their king mislead And mar each gallant plan and deed.

O, let not words like his beguile The glorious king of Lanka's isle."

Thus scornful k.u.mbhakar?a cried, And Rava? with a laugh replied: "Mahodar fears and fain would shun The battle with Ikshvaku's son.

Of all my giant warriors, who Is strong as thou, and brave and true?

Ride, conqueror, to the battle ride, And tame the foeman's senseless pride.

Go forth like Yama to the field, And let thine arm thy trident wield.

Scared by the lightning of thine eye The Vanar hosts will turn and fly; And Rama, when he sees thee near, With trembling heart will own his fear."

The champion heard, and, well content, Forth from the hall his footsteps bent.

He grasped his spear, the foeman's dread, Black iron all, both shaft and head, Which, dyed in many a battle, bore Great spots of slaughtered victims' gore.

The king upon his neck had thrown The jewelled chain which graced his own.

And garlands of delicious scent About his limbs for ornament.

Around his arms gay bracelets clung, And pendants in his ears were hung.

Adorned with gold, about his waist His coat of mail was firmly braced, And like Naraya?(975) or the G.o.d Who rules the sky he proudly trod.

Behind him went a mighty throng Of giant warriors tall and strong, On elephants of n.o.blest breeds.

With cars, with camels, and with steeds: And, armed with spear and axe and sword Were fain to battle for their lord.(976)

Canto LXVI. k.u.mbhakarna's Sally.

In pomp and pride of warlike state The giant pa.s.sed the city gate.

He raised his voice: the hills, the sh.o.r.e Of Lanka's sea returned the roar.

The Vanars saw the chief draw nigh Whom not the ruler of the sky, Nor Yama, monarch of the dead, Might vanquish, and affrighted fled.

When royal Angad, Bali's son, Saw the scared Vanars turn and run, Undaunted still he kept his ground, And shouted as he gazed around: "O Nala, Nila, stay nor let Your souls your generous worth forget, O k.u.mud and Gavaksha, why Like base-born Vanars will ye fly?

Turn, turn, nor shame your order thus: This giant is no match for us"

They heard his voice: the flight was stayed; Again for war they stood arrayed, And hurled upon the foe a shower Of mountain peaks and trees in flower.

Still on his limbs their missiles rained: Unmoved, their blows he still sustained, And seemed unconscious of the stroke When rocks against his body broke.

Fierce as the flame when woods are dry He charged with fury in his eye.

Like trees consumed with fervent heat They fell beneath the giant's feet.

Some o'er the ground, dyed red with gore, Fled wild with terror to the sh.o.r.e, And, deeming that all hope was lost, Ran to the bridge they erst had crossed.

Some clomb the trees their lives to save, Some sought the mountain and the cave; Some hid them in the bosky dell, And there in deathlike slumber fell.

When Angad saw the chieftains fly He called them with a mighty cry: "Once more, O Vanars, charge once more, On to the battle as before.

In all her compa.s.s earth has not, To hide you safe, one secret spot.

What! leave your arms? each n.o.bler dame Will scorn her consort for the shame.

This blot upon your names efface, And keep your valour from disgrace.

Stay, chieftains; wherefore will ye run, A band of warriors scared by one?"

Scarce would they hear: they would not stay, And basely spoke in wild dismay: "Have we not fought, and fought in vain Have we not seen our mightiest slain?

The giant's matchless force we fear, And fly because our lives are dear."

But Bali's son with gentle art Dispelled their dread and cheered each heart.

They turned and formed and waited still Obedient to the prince's will.

Canto LXVII. k.u.mbhakarna's Death.

Thus from their flight the Vanars turned, And every heart for battle burned, Determined on the spot to die Or gain a warrior's meed on high.

Again the Vanars stooped to seize Their weapons, rocks and fallen trees; Again the deadly fight began, And fiercely at the giant ran.

Unmoved the monster kept his place: He raised on high his awful mace, Whirled the huge weapon round his head And laid the foremost Vanars dead.

Eight thousand fell bedewed with gore, Then sank and died seven hundred more.

Then thirty, twenty, ten, or eight At each fierce onset met their fate, And fast the fallen were devoured Like snakes by Garu?'s beak o'erpowered.

Then Dwivid from the Vanar van, Armed with an uptorn mountain, ran, Like a huge cloud when fierce winds blow, And charged amain the mountain foe.

With wondrous force the hill he threw: O'er k.u.mbhakar?a's head it flew, And falling on his host afar Crushed many a giant, steed, and car.

Rocks, trees, by fierce Hanuman sped, Rained fast on k.u.mbhakar?a's head.

Whose spear each deadlier missile stopped, And harmless on the plain it dropped.

Then with his furious eyes aglow The giant rushed upon the foe, Where, with a woody hill upheaved, Hanuman's might his charge received.

Through his vast frame the giant felt The angry blow Hanuman dealt.

He reeled a moment, sore distressed, Then smote the Vanar on the breast, As when the War-G.o.d's furious stroke Through Krauncha's hill a pa.s.sage broke.(977) Fierce was the blow, and deep and wide The rent: with crimson torrents dyed, Hanuman, maddened by the pain, Roared like a cloud that brings the rain, And from each Rakshas throat rang out Loud clamour and exultant shout.

Then Nila hurled with mustered might The fragment of a mountain height; Nor would the rock the foe have missed, But k.u.mbhakar?a raised his fist And smote so fiercely that the ma.s.s Fell crushed to powder on the gra.s.s.

Five chieftains of the Vanar race(978) Charged k.u.mbhakar?a face to face, And his huge frame they wildly beat With rocks and trees and hands and feet.

Round Rishabh first the giant wound His arms and hurled him to the ground, Where speechless, senseless, wounded sore, He lay his face besmeared with gore.

Then Nila with his fist he slew, And Sarabh with his knee o'erthrew, Nor could Gavaksha's strength withstand The force of his terrific hand.

At Gandhamadan's eager call Rushed thousands to avenge their fall, Nor ceased those Vanars to a.s.sail With knee and fist and tooth and nail.

Around his foes the giant threw His mighty arms, and nearer drew The captives subject to his will: Then s.n.a.t.c.hed them up and ate his fill.

There was no respite then, no pause: Fast gaped and closed his h.e.l.l-like jaws: Yet, prisoned in that gloomy cave, Some Vanars still their lives could save: Some through his nostrils found a way, Some through his ears resought the day.

Like Indra with his thunder, like The G.o.d of Death in act to strike, The giant seized his ponderous spear, And charged the foe in swift career.

Before his might the Vanars fell, Nor could their hosts his charge repel.

Then trembling, nor ashamed to run, They turned and fled to Raghu's son.