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Thus, by the rankling dart oppressed, Kakutstha's offspring he addressed: In earth his mighty body lay, His spirit fled to heaven away.
Thus spake Viradha ere he died; And Rama to his brother cried: "Now dig we in this grove a pit His elephantine bulk to fit.
And let the hollowed earth enfold This mighty giant fierce and bold."
This said, the valiant hero put Upon the giant's neck his foot.
His spade obedient Lakshma? plied, And dug a pit both deep and wide By lofty souled Viradha's side.
Then Raghu's son his foot withdrew, And down the mighty form they threw; One awful shout of joy he gave And sank into the open grave.
The heroes, to their purpose true, In fight the cruel demon slew, And radiant with delight Deep in the hollowed earth they cast The monster roaring to the last, In their resistless might.
Thus when they saw the warrior's steel No life-destroying blow might deal, The pair, for lore renowned, Deep in the pit their hands had made The unresisting giant laid, And killed him neath the ground.
Upon himself the monster brought From Rama's hand the death he sought With strong desire to gain: And thus the rover of the night Told Rama, as they strove in fight, That swords might rend and arrows smite Upon his breast in vain.
Thus Rama, when his speech he heard, The giant's mighty form interred, Which mortal arms defied.
With thundering crash the giant fell, And rock and cave and forest dell With echoing roar replied.
The princes, when their task was done And freedom from the peril won, Rejoiced to see him die.
Then in the boundless wood they strayed, Like the great sun and moon displayed Triumphant in the sky.(410)
Canto V. Sarabhanga.
Then Rama, having slain in fight Viradha of terrific might, With gentle words his spouse consoled, And clasped her in his loving hold.
Then to his brother n.o.bly brave The valiant prince his counsel gave: "Wild are these woods around us spread; And hard and rough the ground to tread: We, O my brother, ne'er have viewed So dark and drear a solitude: To Sarabhanga let us haste, Whom wealth of holy works has graced."
Thus Rama spoke, and took the road To Sarabhanga's pure abode.
But near that saint whose l.u.s.tre vied With G.o.ds, by penance purified, With startled eyes the prince beheld A wondrous sight unparalleled.
In splendour like the fire and sun He saw a great and glorious one.
Upon a n.o.ble car he rode, And many a G.o.d behind him glowed: And earth beneath his feet unpressed(411) The monarch of the skies confessed.
Ablaze with gems, no dust might dim The bright attire that covered him.
Arrayed like him, on every side High saints their master glorified.
Near, borne in air, appeared in view His car which tawny coursers drew, Like silver cloud, the moon, or sun Ere yet the day is well begun.
Wreathed with gay garlands, o'er his head A pure white canopy was spread, And lovely nymphs stood nigh to hold Fair chouris with their sticks of gold, Which, waving in each gentle hand, The forehead of their monarch fanned.
G.o.d, saint, and bard, a radiant ring, Sang glory to their heavenly King: Forth into joyful lauds they burst As Indra with the sage conversed.
Then Rama, when his wondering eyes Beheld the monarch of the skies, To Lakshma? quickly called, and showed The car wherein Lord Indra rode: "See, brother, see that air-borne car, Whose wondrous glory s.h.i.+nes afar: Wherefrom so bright a l.u.s.tre streams That like a falling sun it seems: These are the steeds whose fame we know, Of heavenly race through heaven they go: These are the steeds who bear the yoke Of Sakra,(412) Him whom all invoke.
Behold these youths, a glorious band, Toward every wind a hundred stand: A sword in each right hand is borne, And rings of gold their arms adorn.
What might in every broad deep chest And club-like arm is manifest!
Clothed in attire of crimson hue They show like tigers fierce to view.
Great chains of gold each warder deck, Gleaming like fire beneath his neck.
The age of each fair youth appears Some score and five of human years: The ever-blooming prime which they Who live in heaven retain for aye: Such mien these lordly beings wear, Heroic youths, most bright and fair.
Now, brother, in this spot, I pray, With the Videhan lady stay, Till I have certain knowledge who This being is, so bright to view."
He spoke, and turning from the spot Sought Sarabhanga's hermit cot.
But when the lord of Sachi(413) saw The son of Raghu near him draw, He hastened of the sage to take His leave, and to his followers spake:
"See, Rama bends his steps this way, But ere he yet a word can say, Come, fly to our celestial sphere; It is not meet he see me here.
Soon victor and triumphant he In fitter time shall look on me.
Before him still a great emprise, A task too hard for others, lies."
Then with all marks of honour high The Thunderer bade the saint good-bye, And in his car which coursers drew Away to heaven the conqueror flew.
Then Rama, Lakshma?, and the dame, To Sarabhanga nearer came, Who sat beside the holy flame.
Before the ancient sage they bent, And clasped his feet most reverent; Then at his invitation found A seat beside him on the ground.
Then Rama prayed the sage would deign Lord Indra's visit to explain; And thus at length the holy man In answer to his prayer began:
"This Lord of boons has sought me here To waft me hence to Brahma's sphere, Won by my penance long and stern,- A home the lawless ne'er can earn.
But when I knew that thou wast nigh, To Brahma's world I could not fly Until these longing eyes were blest With seeing thee, mine honoured guest.
Since thou, O Prince, hast cheered my sight, Great-hearted lover of the right, To heavenly spheres will I repair And bliss supreme that waits me there.
For I have won, dear Prince, my way To those fair worlds which ne'er decay, Celestial seat of Brahma's reign: Be thine, with me, those worlds to gain."
Then master of all sacred lore, Spake Rama to the saint once more:
"I, even I, ill.u.s.trious sage, Will make those worlds mine heritage: But now, I pray, some home a.s.sign Within this holy grove of thine."
Thus Rama, Indra's peer in might, Addressed the aged anchorite: And he, with wisdom well endued, To Raghu's son his speech renewed:
"Sutiksh?a's woodland home is near, A glorious saint of life austere, True to the path of duty; he With highest bliss will prosper thee.
Against the stream thy course must be Of this fair brook Mandakini, Whereon light rafts like blossoms glide; Then to his cottage turn aside.
There lies thy path: but ere thou go, Look on me, dear one, till I throw Aside this mould that girds me in, As casts the snake his withered skin."
He spoke, the fire in order laid With holy oil due offerings made, And Sarabhanga, glorious sire, Laid down his body in the fire.
Then rose the flame above his head, On skin, blood, flesh, and bones it fed, Till forth, transformed, with radiant hue Of tender youth, he rose anew, Far-s.h.i.+ning in his bright attire Came Sarabhanga from the pyre: Above the home of saints, and those Who feed the quenchless flame,(414) he rose: Beyond the seat of G.o.ds he pa.s.sed, And Brahma's sphere was gained at last.
The n.o.blest of the twice-born race, For holy works supreme in place, The Mighty Father there beheld Girt round by hosts unparalleled; And Brahma joying at the sight Welcomed the glorious anchorite.
Canto VI. Rama's Promise.
When he his heavenly home had found, The holy men who dwelt around To Rama flocked, whose martial fame Shone glorious as the kindled flame: Vaikhanasas(415) who love the wild, Pure hermits Balakhilyas(416) styled, Good Samprakshalas,(417) saints who live On rays which moon and daystar give: Those who with leaves their lives sustain And those who pound with stones their grain: And they who lie in pools, and those Whose corn, save teeth, no winnow knows: Those who for beds the cold earth use, And those who every couch refuse: And those condemned to ceaseless pains, Whose single foot their weight sustains: And those who sleep neath open skies, Whose food the wave or air supplies, And hermits pure who spend their nights On ground prepared for sacred rites; Those who on hills their vigil hold, Or dripping clothes around them fold: The devotees who live for prayer, Or the five fires(418) unflinching bear.
On contemplation all intent, With light that heavenly knowledge lent, They came to Rama, saint and sage, In Sarabhanga's hermitage.
The hermit crowd around him pressed, And thus the virtuous chief addressed: "The lords.h.i.+p of the earth is thine, O Prince of old Ikshvaku's line.
Lord of the G.o.ds is Indra, so Thou art our lord and guide below.
Thy name, the glory of thy might, Throughout the triple world are bright: Thy filial love so n.o.bly shown, Thy truth and virtue well are known.
To thee, O lord, for help we fly, And on thy love of right rely: With kindly patience hear us speak, And grant the boon we humbly seek.
That lord of earth were most unjust, Foul traitor to his solemn trust, Who should a sixth of all(419) require, Nor guard his people like a sire.
But he who ever watchful strives To guard his subjects' wealth and lives, Dear as himself or, dearer still, His sons, with earnest heart and will,- That king, O Raghu's son, secures High fame that endless years endures, And he to Brahma's world shall rise, Made glorious in the eternal skies.
Whate'er, by duty won, the meed Of saints whom roots and berries feed, One fourth thereof, for tender care Of subjects, is the monarch's share.
These, mostly of the Brahman race, Who make the wood their dwelling-place, Although a friend in thee they view, Fall friendless neath the giant crew.
Come, Rama, come, and see hard by The holy hermits' corpses lie, Where many a tangled pathway shows The murderous work of cruel foes.
These wicked fiends the hermits kill- Who live on Chitraku?a's hill, And blood of slaughtered saints has dyed Mandakini and Pampa's side.
No longer can we bear to see The death of saint and devotee Whom through the forest day by day These Rakshasas unpitying slay.
To thee, O Prince, we flee, and crave Thy guardian help our lives to save.
From these fierce rovers of the night Defend each stricken anchorite.
Throughout the world 'twere vain to seek An arm like thine to aid the weak.
O Prince, we pray thee hear our call, And from these fiends preserve us all."
The son of Raghu heard the plaint Of penance-loving sage and saint, And the good prince his speech renewed To all the hermit mult.i.tude:
"To me, O saints, ye need not sue: I wait the hests of all of you.