The Ramayana Part 148

Apart a dais of crystal rose With couches spread for soft repose, Adorned with gold and gems of price Meet for the halls of Paradise.

A canopy was o'er them spread Pale as the light the moon beams shed, And female figures,(816) deftly planned, The faces of the sleepers fanned, There on a splendid couch, asleep On softest skins of deer and sheep.

Dark as a cloud that dims the day The monarch of the giants lay, Perfumed with sandal's precious scent And gay with golden ornament.

His fiery eyes in slumber closed, In glittering robes the king reposed Like Mandar's mighty hill asleep With flowery trees that clothe his steep.

Near and more near the Vanar The monarch of the fiends to view, And saw the giant stretched supine Fatigued with play and drunk with wine.

While, shaking all the monstrous frame, His breath like hissing serpents' came.

With gold and glittering bracelets gay His mighty arms extended lay Huge as the towering shafts that bear The flag of Indra high in air.

Scars by Airavat's tusk impressed Showed red upon his s.h.a.ggy breast.

And on his shoulders were displayed The dints the thunder-bolt had made.(817) The spouses of the giant king Around their lord were slumbering, And, gay with sparkling earrings, shone Fair as the moon to look upon.

There by her husband's side was seen Mandodari the favourite queen, The beauty of whose youthful face Beamed a soft glory through the place.

The Vanar marked the dame more fair Than all the royal ladies there, And thought, "These rarest beauties speak The matchless dame I come to seek.

Peerless in grace and splendour, she The Maithil queen must surely be."

Canto XI. The Banquet Hall.

But soon the baseless thought was spurned And longing hope again returned: "No: Rama's wife is none of these, No careless dame that lives at ease.

Her widowed heart has ceased to care For dress and sleep and dainty fare.

She near a lover ne'er would lie Though Indra wooed her from the sky.

Her own, her only lord, whom none Can match in heaven, is Raghu's son."

Then to the banquet hall intent On strictest search his steps he bent.

He pa.s.sed within the door, and found Fair women sleeping on the ground, Where wearied with the song, perchance, The merry game, the wanton dance, Each girl with wine and sleep oppressed Had sunk her drooping head to rest.

That s.p.a.cious hall from side to side With n.o.blest fare was well supplied, There quarters of the boar, and here Roast of the buffalo and deer, There on gold plate, untouched as yet The peac.o.c.k and the hen were set.

There deftly mixed with salt and curd Was meat of many a beast and bird, Of kid and porcupine and hare, And dainties of the sea and air.

There wrought of gold, ablaze with s.h.i.+ne Of precious stones, were cups of wine.

Through court and bower and banquet hall The Vanar pa.s.sed and viewed them all; From end to end, in every spot, For Sita searched, but found her not.

Canto XII. The Search Renewed.

Again the Vanar chief began Each chamber, bower, and hall to scan.

In vain: he found not her he sought, And pondered thus in bitter thought: "Ah me the Maithil queen is slain: She, ever true and free from stain, The fiend's entreaty has denied, And by his cruel hand has died.

Or has she sunk, by terror killed, When first she saw the palace filled With female monsters evil miened Who wait upon the robber fiend?

No battle fought, no might displayed, In vain this anxious search is made; Nor shall my steps, made slow by shame, Because I failed to find the dame, Back to our lord the king be bent, For he is swift to punishment.

In every bower my feet have been, The dames of Rava? have I seen; But Rama's spouse I seek in vain, And all my toil is fruitless pain.

How shall I meet the Vanar band I left upon the ocean strand?

How, when they bid me speak, proclaim These tidings of defeat and shame?

How shall I look on Angad's eye?

What words will Jambavan reply?

Yet dauntless hearts will never fail To win success though foes a.s.sail, And I this sorrow will subdue And search the palace through and through, Exploring with my cautious tread Each spot as yet unvisited."

Again he turned him to explore Each chamber, hall, and corridor, And arbour bright with scented bloom, And lodge and cell and picture-room.

With eager eye and noiseless feet He pa.s.sed through many a cool retreat Where women lay in slumber drowned; But Sita still was nowhere found.

Canto XIII. Despair And Hope.

Then rapid as the lightning's flame From Rava?'s halls the Vanar came.

Each lingering hope was cold and dead, And thus within his heart he said: "Alas, my fruitless search is done: Long have I toiled for Raghu's son; And yet with all my care have seen No traces of the ravished queen.

It may be, while the giant through The lone air with his captive flew, The Maithil lady, tender-souled, Slipped struggling from the robber's hold, And the wild sea is rolling now O'er Sita of the beauteous brow.

Or did she perish of alarm When circled by the monster's arm?

Or crushed, unable to withstand The pressure of that monstrous hand?

Or when she spurned his suit with scorn, Her tender limbs were rent and torn.

And she, her virtue unsubdued, Was slaughtered for the giant's food.

Shall I to Raghu's son relate His well-beloved consort's fate, My crime the same if I reveal The mournful story or conceal?

If with no happier tale to tell I seek our mountain citadel, How shall I face our lord the king, And meet his angry questioning?

How shall I greet my friends, and brook The muttered taunt, the scornful look?

How to the son of Raghu go And kill him with my tale of woe?

For sure the mournful tale I bear Will strike him dead with wild despair.

And Lakshma? ever fond and true, Will, undivided, perish too.

Bharat will learn his brother's fate, And die of grief disconsolate, And sad Satrughna with a cry Of anguish on his corpse will die.

Our king Sugriva, ever found True to each bond in honour bound, Will mourn the pledge he vainly gave, And die with him he could not save.

Then Ruma his devoted wife For her dead lord will leave her life, And Tara, widowed and forlorn, Will die in anguish, sorrow-worn.

On Angad too the blow will fall Killing the hope and joy of all.

The ruin of their prince and king The Vanars' souls with woe will wring.

And each, overwhelmed with dark despair, Will beat his head and rend his hair.

Each, graced and honoured long, will miss His careless life of easy bliss, In happy troops will play no more On breezy rock and shady sh.o.r.e, But with his darling wife and child Will seek the mountain top, and wild With hopeless desolation, throw Himself, his wife, and babe, below.

Ah no: unless the dame I find I ne'er will meet my Vanar kind.

Here rather in some distant dell A lonely hermit will I dwell, Where roots and berries will supply My humble wants until I die; Or on the sh.o.r.e will raise a pyre And perish in the kindled fire.

Or I will strictly fast until With slow decay my life I kill, And ravening dogs and birds of air The limbs of Hanuman shall tear.

Here will I die, but never bring Destruction on my race and king.

But still unsearched one grove I see With many a bright Asoka tree.

There will I enter in, and through The tangled shade my search renew.

Be glory to the host on high, The Sun and Moon who light the sky, The Vasus(818) and the Maruts'(819) train, adityas(820) and the Asvins(821) twain.

So may I win success, and bring The lady back with triumphing."

Canto XIV. The Asoka Grove.

He cleared the barrier at a bound; He stood within the pleasant ground, And with delighted eyes surveyed The climbing plants and varied shade, He saw unnumbered trees unfold The treasures of their pendent gold, As, searching for the Maithil queen, He strayed through alleys soft and green; And when a spray he bent or broke Some little bird that slept awoke.

Whene'er the breeze of morning blew, Where'er a startled peac.o.c.k flew, The gaily coloured branches shed Their flowery rain upon his head That clung around the Vanar till He seemed a blossom-covered hill,(822) The earth, on whose fair bosom lay The flowers that fell from every spray, Was glorious as a lovely maid In all her brightest robes arrayed, He saw the breath of morning shake The lilies on the rippling lake Whose waves a pleasant lapping made On crystal steps with gems inlaid.

Then roaming through the enchanted ground, A pleasant hill the Vanar found, And grottoes in the living stone With gra.s.s and flowery trees o'ergrown.

Through rocks and boughs a brawling rill Leapt from the bosom of the hill, Like a proud beauty when she flies From her love's arms with angry eyes.

He clomb a tree that near him grew And leafy shade around him threw.