SUNDARA KĀNDAM. (continued 2)

SECTION XIV.

Having reflected for a while, and mentally met with her, that highly energetic one leapt from the wall of Rāvana's mansion on to that (of the Asoka wood). And all his frame filled with delight, that mighty monkey, stationed on the wall, saw various trees having their tops furnished with flowers through spring and the other seasons,—salas and asokas, bhavyas, champakas, udalakas, and nāgas, and those bearing fruits resembling the mouths of monkeys; and those relative to mango woods.—with hundreds of plants. And (Hanumān) leapt into the garden like an arrow let go from the bow string. Entering into the grove, variegated all over; resonant with the notes of birds; filled on all sides with golden and silvern trees; many-hued with birds and beasts; containing dainty tracts of trees like unto the risen Sun,—the powerful Hanumān saw the place surrounded with various kinds of trees, having fruits and flowers; frequented by maddened coels and bhramaras, with creatures expressing happiness by their movements, birds and beasts overflowing with spirits; echoing with the cries of peacocks; furnished with various species of fowls. And as he was searching for that surpassingly beautiful and blameless daughter of the king, that monkey awakened the monkeys that were sleeping sweetly. And blown against by the wind caused by the wings of the birds as they flew upwards, various and variegated trees showered down blossoms. And in the midst of the Asoka wood, Hanumln, son unto the Wind-god, covered over with flowers, looked lovely like a hill strewn with blossoms. And all creatures, beholding that monkey embosomed among trees and darting on all sides, took him for spring. And strewn with several masses of blossoms loosened from the trees, the Earth appeared beauteous like a damsel dight with ornaments. And shaken in diverse ways by the motion of the light fleeting monkey, the trees showered many-hued flowers. And with their leaves and tops torn, and their flowers and fruits shrivelled up, the trees looked like worsted gamblers bereft of their clothes. And shaken by Hanumān vehemently moving about, those excellent trees crowned with fruits, speedily cast off fruits, flowers and foliage. And moved by the Wind god's offspring, the trees with their trunks left, and forsaken by the fowls were incapable of harbouring any creatures. And like youthful fair ones with hair dishevelled, their paste worn off, their upper lips with fair teeth sucked of their moisture; and having their persons torn with nails and teeth; appeared the Asoka wood with its trees shattered; and itself ground with the tail, hands and legs (of Hanumān). And that monkey with his vehemence scattered the clusters of shrubs, like the wind violently scattering clouds in the rainy season. And ranging there, the monkey saw beautiful pavements, jewelled, silvern aud golden. And he saw there various pools filled with excellent water and having steps crusted with jewels. Their sandy soil was filled with pearls and corals, and the ground inside was made of crystal. And their banks were decked with diverse golden trees. They were beautified with full blown lotuses, water-lilies, Chakravakas and Natyuhas³⁰⁶ and filled with the notes of swans and Sārasas. They were encircled on all sides with big tanks having trees on their banks and water, clear and sweet like unto nectar. They were entwined with hundreds of creepers, covered with Santāna³⁰⁷ flowers and filled with diverse groves and Karaviras serving the purpose of windows.³⁰⁸ And thereupon that foremost of monkeys beheld there a mountain—the most picturesque in the world, resembling clouds, having high summits, covered on all sides with peaks and filled with hilly abodes and various trees. And that monkey beheld there a river falling down from the mountain like unto a damsel falling down from the lap of her beloved. And the branches of the trees touching the water (of the stream) resembled a fair damsel prevented by her dear companions from forsaking the company of her beloved). And that great monkey beheld further down the stream turning back like unto the damsel, pleased, going back to her dear one. And that foremost of monkeys, Hanumān, the son of Maruti, beheld, at some distance, ponds filled with lotuses and various birds. And he saw a big artificial pond full of cool water having stairs crusted with excellent jewels and its sandy banks filled with pearls. It was embellished (on all sides) with various animals, diverse trees and big mansions made by Viswakarma³⁰⁹ himself. It was adorned all around with artificial fqrests and all the trees there bore flowers and fruits, spreading their branches like unto umbrellas and having golden and silvern pavements under them. And that great monkey beheld there one golden Singsapa³¹⁰ tree surrounded on all sides with golden pavements. And he saw the glebe, the hill streams and many a golden tree resembling fire. By the lustre of all those trees that heroic monkey appeared as if made of gold like unto the Sun by the touch of the mount Sumeru. And having seen those beautiful golden trees, shaken by the wind and making a sound like that of a Kinkini;³¹¹ having flowery tops and new leaves he was greatly amazed. And climbing that Singsapa tree enveloped with leaves that monkey, gifted with velocity, reflected—"Perchance I may see Vaidehi, exercised with grief, anxious to behold Rāma and wandering hither and thither at her pleasure. Certainly this is the picturesque Asoka forest of that vicious-souled one, embellished with sandal, Champakas and Vakulas. Here is a beautiful pond abounding in lotuses, thronged with birds and forsooth shall that royal spouse Jānaki repair hither. She is the beloved queen of Rāghava and expert in walking in the garden. And separated from Rāma, certainly shall Jānaki repair hither. Or she having the eyes of a young antelope and adept in roaming in the forest, exercised with thought touching Rāma, shall come here. Or she having beautiful eyes and fond of ranging in the forest, racked with sorrow in consequence of Rāma's separation, doth always frequent this forest.³¹² Ere this, the chaste and worshipful spouse of Rāma—Janaka's daughter, used to love always the birds and animals of the forest. (The morning hath set in) and surely the beautiful and graceful daughter of Janaka fond of performing morning³¹³ ablutions, shall come to this river of pure water to perform them. Truly is this beautiful forest of Asoka the worthy abode of the beloved and chaste spouse of Rāma, the lord of men. If that one of moon-like countenance breathes, forsooth shall she come to this river of cool water." Having arrived there and anxiously expecting the appearance of the spouse of that lord of men, the high-souled Hanumān hiding himself (on the Singsapa tree) enveloped with flowers and leaves, beheld all.

SECTION XV.

Having stationed himself on the tree, casting his looks all around in quest of Sitā and looking down on the earth he surveyed the entire forest of (Asoka). It was beautified with Santānaka creepers and various trees, fragrant with celestial odours and was embellished on all sides. It resembled Nandana or the celestial garden, and was filled with various animals and birds, palaces and mansions; resounded with the notes of Kokilas; adorned with the ponds abounding in silvern water-lillies and lotuses; filled with many seats and coverlets and various houses having spacious courtyards; adorned with beautiful flowers of all seasons and trees bearing fruits. And the beauty of the blossoming Asokas resembled the effulgence of the Sun. And stationed there Māruti beheld trees as if devoid of leaves on account of the hundreds of birds, adorned with various flowers, resorting there. And he saw there the earth touched by Asoka trees, the removers of grief, having flowers growing from the roots and lowered down with their weight. And the entire quarter was as if ablaze with the beauty of the flowery Karnikaras and Kingsukas. And there appeared in beauty many flowery Punnagas, Saptaparnas, Champakas, and Udalakas having deeply expanded roots. And there was a thousand of Asoka trees, some of whom were 1ike gold, some were like the flame of fire and some were like dark-blue collyrium. It was like the garden of Nandana or like that of Kuvera or perhaps it surpassed the both in excellence. And enveloped in charming, celestial grace beyond conception and having flowers for stars that forest appeared like a second sky. Aud covered with hundreds of pearl-like flowers the forest looked like the fifth ocean. And that garden was embellished with flowers of all seasons and honey-smelling trees, and filled with diverse notes and various animals and birds. And that fragrant garden was rendered more charming with various other fragrances. And that foremost of monkeys beheld in that garden of Asoka, a round palace, situated at a distance, fragrant as the Gandhamādana mountain and high as the lord of mountains. (The palace) was white as the Kailaça hill and built on a thousand pillars. All its stairs were made of coral and its pavements made of burning gold. Its beauty was as if burning all along and stealing the vision of the lookers-on. It was spotless and on account of its height touched the welkin. And thereupon he beheld there (Sitā) wearing a soiled cloth, poorly, greatly reduced by fast, sighing again and again and encircled by a band of Rākshasees. She was (however) spotless like unto the rays of the moon on the first lunar day. And her graceful beauty could with great difficulty be perceived like unto the flame of fire enveloped with smoke. And wearing a shattered and soiled yellow cloth and divested of all ornaments she appeared like a lotus stalk without lotuses.³¹⁴ Oppressed, racked with grief, weakened and chaste as she was, she appeared like Rohini possessed by Ketu. She was greatly reduced by fast, stricken with grief and anxious thoughts, disturbed with sorrow and was poorly and her eyes were always full of tears. Separated from her kith and kin and not beholding Rāma and Lakshmana³¹⁵ but the Rākshasees, she appeared like a hind surrounded by dogs. Her braid of long hair resembling a black serpent falling on her back it appeared as if the Earth was filled with dark-blue forests on the disappearance of the rains. Sitā was worthy of happiness only and never knew of misery and therefore she was (now) greatly oppressed with sorrow. And beholding that one of expansive eyes rendered pale and feeble, Hanumān, by various conclusive arguments reflected within himself "She must be Sitā, for this damsel looks just like her, whom I saw, when she was ravished by Rāvana, assuming shapes at will. Having the countenance of the full-moon, beautiful eye brows, round breast, she is as if dispelling the darkness from all quarters by virtue of her grace. Her throat was yellow, and her lips were like Bimbas.³¹⁶ She was of middle stature and her limbs were all well built. She had eyes resembling lotus petals and was like the beloved wife of Manmatha—Rati and was adorable unto the whole creation like the rays of the full-moon. That one having a graceful person was seated on the earth like a female ascetic having her senses restrained. And she was sighing again and again like the timid daughter-in-law of the lord of serpents.³¹⁷ Entangled by a mighty web of grief her grace was greatly lessened and she appeared like the flame of fire enveloped in smoke. She was like unto Smriti of doubtful meanings, fallen wealth, lost respect, hope without any desire for gain, Sidhi³¹⁸ of many troubles, sullied understanding and fame soiled with false rumours. That innocent one was greatly distressed for not being able to attend upon Rāma, and she having the eyes of a young hind, being oppressed by the Rākshasees was casting her looks hither and thither. And with a displeased countenance, having dark-blue and curling eye lashes, and eyes full of tears, she was sighing again and again. Worthy of wearing ornaments but now without any, poorly, crusted with execrations, she appeared like the rays of the stars enveloped by dark-blue clouds. And beholding Sitā in that pitiable plight like unto learning for want of practice, (Hanumān) was puzzled with doubts. And seeing her without ornaments he could with great difficulty make her out like unto words having different meanings without the knowledge of grammar. And beholding that blameless daughter of the king, having expansive eyes, Hanumān, by various reasonings, reflected—"Forsooth she must be Sitā. I see at her person all these ornaments, of which Rāma mentioned unto me at the time of my departure. I behold on her ears excellent ear-rings and nicely placed Svadangstras³¹⁹ and on her arms jewelled ornaments rendered dark-blue by dirt for constant use. Verily these are the ornaments Rāma mentioned unto me. I do not perceive them which had been cast off by her. But these are the rest there is not the least doubt about it. The monkeys had seen, her excellent yellow cloth made of golden fibres, on the hill. They had seen also her excellent ornaments, which cast off by her, fell on the earth with a sound. Her cloth hath been shattered by constant use but her grace hath not been rendered worse than its color. This one having a golden countenance must be the beloved queen of Rāma, who, albeit separated from him, hath not disappeared from his mind. This is that damsel on whose account Rāma being simultaneously burnt by affection, pity, grief and amour,—affection in consequence of his beloved spouse being ravished, pity for his inability to protect one dependent on him, grief for the loss of his beloved wife and amour for his dear one. Verily it appeareth from the grace of her person, from her well developed limbs and from Rāma's beauty that this worshipful damsel having dark-blue eyes must be his spouse. She has her mind fixed in him, and he in her and it is for this that she and the virtuous-souled (Rāma) have been still maintaining their being. Indeed my master Rāma hath performed a mighty task for breathes he still in her separation, without consuming himself in grief." And having beheld Sitā in this plight, that son of the Wind-god approached Rāma in mind and showered praises on his master.

SECTION XVI.

And having eulogized Sitā, worthy of being praised and Rāma, endeared by accomplishments that foremost of monkeys again engaged in meditation. And having reflected for some time, the powerful Hanumān, having his eyes full of tears bewailed on Sitā's account (in the following strain) —"No one can withstand the course of destiny since Sitā, being the spouse of the worshipful brother of Lakshmana, ever obedient unto his elders, hath been overwhelmed with grief. The worshipful damsel is cognizant of the prowess of Rāma and the intelligent Lakshmana and for this she is not entirely depressed like unto the river Ganges at the approach of the rainy season. As regards their character, age, conduct, family and other auspicious marks they are equal and hence Rāghava deserveth Vaidehi and this one of dark-blue eyes is his." And having seen her, gold-hued and conducing to the happiness of the people like unto the Goddess of wealth, Hanumān approached Rāma in his mind and said:—"For this (damsel) was killed the mighty Vāli and Kavanda—Rāvana's equal in prowess. (For her too) was destroyed in battle, the terribly powerful Rākshasa—Virādha, by Rāma putting forth his energy, like unto Shambara killed by Mahendra. (It was for her) that fourteen thousand Rākshasas of terrible deeds were destroyed at Janasthāna with arrows resembling the flame of fire. And Khara was killed in battle, and Trisharā was discomfitted and the mighty Dushana by Rāma, knowing his ownself. And it was on her account that Sugriva, known all over the world, came by the wealth of the monkeys hard to acquire and amassed by Vāli. And it is for this (damsel) of expansive eyes that I have crossed the effulgent lord of rivers and have seen this city. And methinks it would have been all proper had Rāma turned on her account the whole earth bounded by oceans. If the kingdom over the three worlds and the daughter of Janaka be compared together, the former is not equal to one hundredth part of Sitā. This Sitā, the daughter of the high-souled Janaka, the pious King of Mithilā, firmly attached unto her husband, rose, covered with dust, out of the earth, in a field delved by a furrow. She is the well-known eldest daughter-in-law of the king Daçaratha, of an adorable character and unchecked prowess. And She is the beloved spouse of the pious and grateful Rāma, knowing his ownself, and has been brought under the control of the Rākshasees. Renouncing all luxuries, and considering not the least about miseries, she actuated by her husband's love entered the solitary forest. And satisfied with fruits and roots and ever engaged in her husband's service, she lived in the forest as much delighted as she was in her house. And that one of a golden hue, never used to afflictions and who was wont to converse always with a delighted countenance, hath now been suffering incomparable miseries. Like unto a thirsty wight longing for an abode where he might get a drink, Rāghava panteth after seeing her, gifted with an exalted character and oppressed by Rāvana. As a monarch who had lost his kingdom, is greatly delighted when he regaineth it, forsooth shall Rāghava, in like manner, be pleased when he shall come by her. She too hath been maintaining her being in the hope of seeing Rāma again, separated as she is from her friends and deprived of all comforts and luxuries. These Rākshasees, and these trees enveloped with fruits and flowers—forsooth she doth not behold, but is engaged with all her heart in medidations only touching Rāma. Husband enhanceth the beauty of a female more than the dress (and therefore Sitā) beautiful as she is, doth not appear graceful, in her husband's absence. Forsooth my master Rāma hath performed a difficult act for he hath been still keeping up his life in her separation without consuming himself in grief. My heart is greatly pained knowing that she, having dark-blue eyes, resembling lotus petals, worthy of happiness, hath been possessed by grief. She, patient as the Earth, having eyes resembling lotuses, who was ere this protected by Rāghava and Lakshmana, is now being guarded by Rākshasees having terrible eyes, under the trees. Being harassed with continued miseries, the daughter of Janaka hath lost all her beauty like unto a water-lily crushed with frost, and hath come by a miserable plight like unto a doe seperated from her mate. The branches of the Asoka trees, lowered down with flowers are as if enhancing her grief as also the Moon of many thousand rays, at the expiry of the winter." Having reflected thus and arrived at the conclusion that she was Sitā, that powerful leader of monkeys gifted with velocity stationed himself on that tree.

SECTION XVII.

Thereupon the Moon, white as water-lily and of clear appearance proceeded far down the welkin like unto a goose traversing the blue waters. With a view to befriend him, the Moon of clear rays, sprinkled the Wind-God's son, with cool beams. And thereupon he beheld Sitā, having a moon-like countenance, plunged in grief like unto a laden boat sunk in water. While beholding Vaidehi, Hanumān,the son of Maruta, observed at some distance, a number of grim-visaged Rākshasees. Some had one ear, some one eye, some had big ears some were without ears; some had formidable ears and some had a nose projecting upwards. And some had the upper part of their bodies unusually long and bulky, some had a long and slender neck, some had dishevelled hair, and some one's person was so thickly covered with hairs, that she appeared to have been cloaked in a blanket. Some had long ears some had a long forehead, some had a long belly, some had long breasts; some had long lips; some had their lips and chins stuck together, some had a long countenance and some had long knees. Some one was of short stature, some were tall, some crooked, some grim-visaged, some dwarfish, some one was of terribly dark colour; some had a disfigured countenance; some had coppery eyes and a fearful face. Some were terrible-looking, some copper-colored, some black, some angry and some fond of quarrelling with each other; and some had iron darts, hammers and mallets in their hands. Some had a face like that of a boar, some had a face like that of a deer, some like that of a tiger, some like that of a buffallo, some like that of a goat, and some like that of a jackal; some had legs like those of a camel, some had those of an elephant, some those of a horse and some had their heads placed on their breasts. Some one had only one hand some had only one leg. Some had ears like those of a horse, some like those of a cow, some like those of an ass, some like those of an elephant and others had ears like those of a lion. Some had very big noses, some had crooked and others were without any; some had noses like those of an elephant and others had their noses on their foreheads. Some had their legs like those of elephants some had very huge legs; some had like those of a cow, some had on their legs locks of hair like unto pillars, some had a terribly huge head, some had big breasts and others had spacious bellies, Some had faces and eyes beyond ordinary proportions. Some had a long face and tongue. And some had the face of a goat, some that of an elephant some that of a cow, some that of a boar some that of a horse and some that of an ass. Some of the Rākshasees were grim-visaged and some hot-natured, quarrelsome and had darts and maces in their hands. And some terrible Rākshasees of disfigured countenances, had smoky-coloured hairs. And they were all continually drinking wine—always fond of liquor and meat, and all their bodies were sprinkled with blood for their living on gore and flesh. And that foremost of monkeys found all these grim-visaged Rākshasees seated around that mighty tree enveloped with branches. And the graceful Hanumān observed at the foot of that tree that worshipful and blameless daughter of the king Janaka. She was bereft of all effulgence, racked with grief and all her hairs were soiled with dirt. She appeared like a star fallen down on the earth on the wane of virtue. And famed though she was all over the world for her chastity, it was difficult for her now to see her husband. She had no excellent ornaments—her attachment unto her husband was the only ornament. She was imprisoned by the lord of Rākshasas and separated from all her friends, she appeared like a she-elephant separated from her band and bound and attacked by a lion, and like the rays of the Moon enveloped with clouds at the expiry of the rainy season. Her beauty was greatly faded (in consequence of her husband's separation) like unto a stringed instrument for want of a player. And ever engaged in her husband's welfare she was thoroughly unworthy of being brought under the control of the Rākshasas. Being sunk in the abyss of grief and encircled by those Rākshasees she appeared in the forest of Asoka like unto Rohini possessed by Rāhu. And Hanumān beheld her there like a creeper divested of flowers. And having her person soiled with dirt and shorn of all ornaments she appeared in her hidden grace like unto a lotus covered with clay. And the monkey Hanumān, beheld that damsel, having the eyes of a young antelope, clothed with a soiled and shattered cloth. And though the countenance of that worshfpful one was shorn of all grace, her heart did not loose its loftiness in consequence of her husband's prowess. And Sitā, of dark-blue eyes, was protected by virtue of her own character. And beholding Sitā, having the eyes of a young antelope, and terrified and casting her looks hither and thither like a hind and burning down the trees enveloped with leaves by her breath; like unto a mass of grief and an upheaval of sorrow; having well-proportioned limbs, and appearing graceful without ornaments, Māruti attained to an excess of delight. And beholding her having inebriete eyes, Hanumān shed tears of delight and bowed unto Rāghava. And having offered his obeisance unto Rāma and Lakshmana the powerful Hanumān, greatly delighted in seeing Sitā; remained there hidden.

SECTION XVIII.

And beholding the forest filled with flowery trees and desiring to have a full view of her, he, well-nigh, spent the night. And at that late hour of the night, he heard the chantings of the Vedas by the Rākshasas, conversant with the six supplementary parts of the Vedas,³²⁰ engaged in the performance of sacrificial rites and knowing Brahmā. And thereupon the mighty Ten-headed Rākshasa, having huge arms, awoke with the sounds of those auspicious instruments pleasant unto ears. And awaking, that great and powerful lord of Rākshasas, having his cloth and garlands loosened, began to think of Vaidehi. And that Rākshasa, puffed up with pride, was passionately attached unto her and so he could not restrain his amour in him. And so adorned with all ornaments, he, casting his looks on the roads containing jewelled and golden gates and appearing in grace, entered the forest of Asoka, filled with various trees containing fruits and flowers of all seasons and with ponds; beautified with various flowers; variegated with inebriete and wondrous birds; filled with various beautiful wolves; thronged with various deer and covered with fruits fallen on the earth. And one hundred damsels followed in the train of the son of Pulastya³²¹ like unto the damsels of the celestials and Gandharvas following Mahendra. And among those fair ones, some carried chowries and some fans. And some carrying water in golden jars headed the train while others carrying the golden throne covered with a coverlet followed it. And a favourite damsel carried in her right hand a jewelled drinking bowl filled with wine. And another carrying the white umbrella having golden ribs resembling the full moon and goose, followed in the train. And in this wise the excellent wives, of Rāvana, having their eyes rendered sleepy with sleep and wine, followed their heroic husband like unto lightnings following the cloud. Their necklaces and keyuras were displaced, paste faded, hair dishevelled and they had drops of sweat on their faces. With sleep and intoxication, were reeling those fair ones of beautiful countenances, having their hairs with garlands disbanded and their persons wet with perspiration. And in this way those beloved wives, (of Rāvana) having inebriete eyes, followed, out of amour and reverence, their husband. And their mighty husband, brought under the control of amour and having his mind firmly attached unto Sitā, proceeded slowly. And that monkey, son of Māruta, heard the sound of kanchees and nupuras of those excellent damsels. And the monkey Hanumān also beheld Rāvana, of extraordinary deeds and of inconceivable prowess and strength, at the gate. His whole body was seen on all sides by the light of the lamps lighted with perfumed oil and carried by the Rākshasees before. He was inflamed with amour, pride and haughtiness and his expansive eyes were coppery and idle. And he appeared like Cupid himself just appearing in view, leaving behind his bow and arrows. And holding his excellent robe, covered with flowers, washed, set with jewels and white as the foam of the churned nectar, he placed it in its proper place. And Hanumān, hiding himself on the tree, in the midst of many leaves and flowers, tried to recognise him as he approached. And beholding him, that foremost of monkeys saw that highly famous king Rāvana, surrounded by his excellently beautiful and youthful wives, enter that forest of enjoyment filled with birds and animals. There was a warder by name Sankukarna in that forest—highly powerful, wearing various ornaments and addicted to drinking. And by him was seen that lord of Rākshasas—the son of Visravasa. And that highly energetic monkey beheld that effulgent (Rāvana) surrounded by excellent damsels like unto moon encircled by stars. And beholding him the monkey reflected—"This must be Rāvana—for he is the person whom I saw sleeping in an excellent apartment in that city." Thinking this, that highly effulgent son of Māruta—Hanumān leaped (high upon another branch). And effulgent as he was, that highly intelligent monkey hid himself on a branch covered with leaves, being unable to stand before the effulgence of that Rākshasa. And Rāvana proceeded in that way, being anxious to behold the blue-eyed Sitā, having spacious breast, excellent hips and a lock of black hair.

SECTION XIX.

And thereupon beholding Rāvana—the lord of Rākshasas, gifted with youth and beauty and adorned with an excellent dress, that excellent and blameless daughter of a king, Vaidehi, trembled like unto a plantain tree shaken by the wind. And having covered her belly with her legs and her breast with her hands, that one, having charming colour and expansive eyes, cried aloud. And arriving there the Ten-necked one beheld Vaidehi, guarded by the Rākshasees, poorly, racked with grief like unto a boat sunk in an ocean. Subject to hard penances, she, seated on the bare earth, appeared like a branch of a tree fallen on the ground. Her limbs, where she used to wear ornaments, were covered with dirt and albeit worthy of ornaments, appeared without any like unto a lotus covered with clay and therefore shining very indistinctly. And she was proceeding as it were unto that lion of a king—Rāma, knowing his own-self, in her mind's charriot drawn by the horses of resolution. And not beholding the end of her grief, that damsel, attached unto Rāma, was keeping alone and reduced to a skeleton and overwhelmned with anxious thoughts and grief. And she was troubled like unto the daughter-in-law of the lord of serpents, of impeded course by means of incantations, and stricken with grief like unto Rohini, possessed by Ketu. And although born in a pious family, well behaved and good-natured and married according to their rites, she appeared to have been sprung from a low race and wedded according to their base ceremonials. She seemed like mighty fame disappearing, like respect disregarded, like intellect waning and hope disappointed; like a sacred altar trampled, like royal mandate disobeyed, like the quarters burnt by a fire-brand; like offerings unto God soiled; like the disc of the full-moon stricken with darkness, a lotus distressed, an army without a leader; like the ravs of the moon enveloped with gloom, like a river of shallow water, like a sacrificial altar possessed by an outcast, like the flame of fire extinguished; like water fowls terrified and lotuses disturbed and petals crushed by the trunks of elephants. And her grace greatly famished by the absence of her husband she appeared like a river whose liquid contents were dried up. And not cleaning her limbs she appeared like a dark night. And that one of graceful limbs, tender and worthy of living in a jewelled abode, being stricken with grief, seemod like a dried lotus-stalk just extracted from its bed. And she like the daughter-in-law of the lord of elephants, caught, separated from her band and tied to a pillar, was overwhelmed with grief and was sighing again and again. A long lock of dark-blue hair, taken not the least care of, was on her back; and with this she appeared like unto the earth covered with dark-blue forests at the expiration of the rainy season. With fasts and grief, anxiety and fear, she was greatly weakened and reduced and gave up eating and took recourse to asceticism only. Stricken with grief, she seemed to have been offering prayers unto that foremost of Raghus for the destruction of the Ten-necked one, like those unto the deities with folded hands. And beholding blameless Maithilee, having expansive eyes with beautiful eye lashes, greatly attached unto Rāma, and weeping, Rāvana tempted her for his own destruction.

SECTION XX.

Whereupon Rāvana, with sweet words amd gestures, expressed his own desire unto Sitā, poorly, deprived of joy, encircled by Rākshasees and leading the life of an ascetic. "O thou having thighs like the trunks of elephants, while thou hast, beholding me, hidden thy breast and belly, perhaps thou art afraid of exposing thy person unto me. I do long for thee, O thou having expansive eyes; do thou esteem me, O my dear one, O thou gifted with all accomplishments and pleasant unto all persons. O Sitā, here is no human being or any Rākshasa assuming shapes at will, do thou therefore renounce all fear from me. O timid damsel, for certain it is the virtue of the Rākshasas that they always visit others' wives or come by them by force. In spite of this, O Maithilee, I do not touch thee for thou art not under the influence of amour—but for me, I am completely under its sway. Do not fear me, O worshipful damsel, confide in me, O my beloved one, and become attached unto me. Do not give way to grief. A single lock of hair, to lie down on earth and useless fast—these do not become thee. Attaining me, O Maithilee, do thou enjoy excellent garlands, sandal, ornaments, costly wines, beds, seats, songs, dancing and music. Thou art a jewel of a female; do thou not therefore remain in this guise. Put on thy ornaments therefore. How shalt thou remain unadorned obtaining me, O thou of a beautiful figure? This thy beautiful youth is passing away, which like the current of a river when once gone, doth not turn back. O thou of a fair look, having created thee, the artist of Gods, the maker of celestial beauties, hath ceased from his work, for a match of thy beauty I find in none. Who is there, O Vaidehi, who can withstand the influence of amour, getting thee, gifted with beauty and youth? (What of others) even Brahmā, the grand-father of the celestials, is moved. O thou having a moon-like countenance, and well-developed lips, whatever limbs of thine, I behold, I find my gaze fixed therein. O Maithilee, do thou become my spouse, and renounce this delusion. Do thou become the foremost queen of all my excellent wives. O timid one, all the jewels that I have collected from the three worlds, and all my kingdom I shall confer on thee. O sportive damsel, for thy satisfaction, I shall conquer the whole earth, engarlanded by many cities and bestow it upon Janakā. Find I none on this earth who can withstand my prowess. Do thou behold my matchless prowess in battle. The celestials, and Asuras are incapable of withstanding me, defeated as they were by me in battle and their pennons struck down. Do thou therefore desire me to-day, dress thyself in excellent robes and adorn thyself in beautifully brilliant ornaments. I shall behold thy dazzling beauty when adorned with ornaments. For pity unto me, do thou embellish thyself with ornaments, O thou of a graceful countenance. O timid damsel, do thou, at thy pleasure, enjoy all sorts of comforts and luxuries, and do thou, as thou desirest, confer wealth and land on others. Do thou confiding in me, ask for thy wished-for objects and do thou command me like unto an unmannerly damsel. Thou shalt, by asking favours from me, satisfy the desires of thy friends. O gentle lady, O thou of great renown, do thou observe my prosperity. What shalt thou do with Rāma, wearing bark, (O thou of pleasant presence. Rāma hath ceased from his endeavours for gaining victory. He hath lost all his beauty, lives in the forest, is engaged in observances and always lies down on earth. I fear whether he is living still. O Vaidehi, Rāma shall not be able to see thee like unto the rays of the moon covered with blue clouds preceded by Valakās.³²² Rāghava shall never get thee back from my hands, like unto Hiranyakasipu unable to regain his wife Keerti from Indra. O thou of beautiful teeth, O thou having beautiful eyes, O sportive damsel, O timid one, thou dost steal my mind like unto Garuda catching serpents. Beholding thee, wearing a shattered silken cloth, slender and without any ornaments, I do not find any attachment in my own wives. O daughter of Janaka, do thou exercise, thy supremacy, over all my wives, living in my seraglio and gifted with all accomplishments. O thou having black hair, all my wives are foremost in beauty over the three worlds. And they shall all attend thee like unto Apsarās waiting upon the Goddess of wealth. O thou having beautiful eye brows and well-developed hips, do thou, along with me, enjoy at thy pleasure all the wealth and riches of Kuvera.³²³ O worshipful damsel, in asceticism, strength or prowess, wealth or fame, Rāma is not my equal. Do thou therefore at thy pleasure drink, enjoy and eat. I shall confer on thee wealth and the whole earth. Do thou satisfy all thy desires in me, O fair damsel, and let thy friends be satisfied in thee. And adorned with a beautiful golden necklace, O timid lady, do thou at thy pleasure, range with me, in the forests, situated on the bank of the ocean, and filled with flowery trees and black bees."

SECTION XXI.

Hearing those words of that terrible Rākshasa, Sitā, stricken with grief and of feeble voice, slowly replied— Racked with grief, engaged in asceticism and weeping, Sitā began to tremble. And that excellent damsel, devoted unto her husband, began to think of him. Placing a twig before, that one, of beautiful smile, said—"Do thou take back thy mind from me and place it in thy own wives. Like unto a sinner unworthy of praying for final emancipation, it doth not behove thee to expect to come by me. Devoted unto one husband I shall never perpetrate such an iniquitious act. I am born in a high and have been married in a pious family." Having accosted Rāvana thus, the well-known Vaidehi, turning her back, again spake unto him, saying— "I should not live with thee since I am another's wife and chaste. Have thy eyes always on religion and do thou follow in the track of piety. Like unto thine own wives, others' are worthy of being protected by thee, O ranger of the night. Making an example of thee, do thou enjoy with thy own wives. Forsooth those vicious-minded, those of agitated senses, who are not satisfied with their own wives, are brought to misery by others' wives. (Methinks) there are no pious men here and even if there be any thou dost not follow him since thou hast such an adverse understanding, against human practice and usage. Or the considerate people have spoken the truth, but thou, for the destruction of the race of the Rākshasas, considering that false, hast not followed it. Wealth, kingdom and cities—all are brought to naught when they are placed at the hands of a vicious and illiterate king. Obtaining thee, (therefore) as her king and for thy folly only, this city of Lankā, abounding in jewels, shall soon be ruined. O Rāvana, every one delighteth in the destruction of that inconsiderate being, who bringeth about his own destruction and is engaged in the perpetration of evil deeds. And in this way, thyself, the perpetrator of vicious acts, meeting with thy end, those persons who had been tyranized by thee, shall, delightedly, say—"Oh! blessed are we since this terrible (Rākshasa) hath met with his end. With wealth or riches thou shalt not be able to tempt me. As the rays of the sun belong to him, so I am Rāghava's only. Having laid my head on the beautiful arms of that lord of men, how shall I place it again on another's? Like unto the knowledge of one God monopolized by the Brahmanas only, I am the spouse of that lord of earth only, cognisant of higher truths and marrying me according to the pious ceremonials. May good betide thee, O Rāvana. Do thou take me unto Rāma, stricken with grief as I am, like unto a she-elephant anxiously waiting in the forest brought to the lord of elephants. It behoveth thee to make friends with Rāma, that best of men, if dost thou desire to maintain thy empire and dost not wish to bring about thy own destruction. It is known to the world, that Rāma knoweth well the sanctions of religion and is kind unto them who seek his shelter. Do thou seek his friendship, if dost thou wish to maintain thy life. Do thou propitiate him therefore who is kind to his dependents and it becometh thee to take me respectfully unto him. Thou shalt meet with thy well-being if dost thou in this wise confer me on that best of Raghus. And mighty is the disaster that shall befall thee, if dost thou follow any other procedure. Thunderbolt, even, when hurled, may leave thee, Death himself may overlook thee—but there is no safety for thee, if Rāghava. the lord of men is enraged. Thou shalt hear the terrible sound of the twang of Rāma's bow, like unto the sound of the thunderbolt hurled by Indra. Soon shall arrows, bearing the names of Rāma and Lakshmana and having fiery heads like those of snakes, alight here. And covered with kanka leaves they shall undoubtedly cover the whole city and devastate it by destroying all the Rākshasas. Like unto Garuda pulling up the snakes, the Garuda-like Rāma shall pull up thy snake-like Rākshasas. And like unto Vishnu recovering the effulgent Sree (the Goddess of wealth) from the Asuras, by crossing over the three worlds with three foot-steps, my husband, the conqueror of foes, shall recover me from thee. Janasthāna hath been devastated, the host of Rākshasas hath been killed, and thou hast been disabled. Truly thou hast perpetrated an impious deed. O Rākshasa, those two lions among men going out to enquire about the illusive deer, I was ravished by thee, entering the empty hermitage, O vile wight. And like unto a dog incapable of standing before a tiger, it would have been impossible for thee, to wait there in the presence of Rāma and Lakshmana. If dost thou engage in conflict with them, thy wealth and friends shall be of no avail unto thee (and thou shalt be dis-comfitted) like unto one-handed Asura Vitra by the two handed Indra.³²⁴ Soon shall my husband, with the assistance of Lakshmana, draw out thy life with arrows, like unto the sun drying up, by his rays, shallow water. Whether dost thou repair to the abode of Kuvera, or whether dost thou, terrified, take refuge unto the assembly of Varuna, thou shalt, for certain, be destroyed by the son of Daçaratha, like unto a mighty tree broken down by thunderbolt.

SECTION XXII.

Hearing those harsh accents, that lord of Rākshasas, replied unto Sitā, of comely presence, with the following unpleasant words—"It is generally found on earth that the more a woman is courted by a man, the more she is brought under his influence. (But for thee) the more kindly I have been behaving towards thee, the more roughly I have been treated. Truly doth my love for thee keep in control the wrath like unto a good charioteer restraining the swerving stead. O mighty is amour unto men, for on whom this amour falleth, albeit she is an object of wrath, becomes an object of kindness and affection. O thou of fair countenance, it is for this reason, that I do not destroy thee, although thou, who art engaged in false asceticism, art worthy of being killed and dishonored. O Maithilee, for each and every one of all those harsh words which thou hast used by me, dost thou deserve death." Having spoken thus unto Vaidehi, Rāvana, the lord of Rākhasas, having his wrath subdued, again bespake Sitā: "I shall wait for those two months, of which I have made a contract, after which thou shalt have to share my bed, O thou of a comely presence. And even then if thou dost refuse to regard me as thy husband, my cooks shall mince thy limbs with steel and serve thee for my morning meal." Beholding the lord of Rākshasas remonstrate with the daughter of Janaka in this wise, the daughters of the celestials and Gandharbas became exceedingly sorry. Some with lips, some with eyes, and some with gestures of their faces, they all consoled Sitā, thus distressed by that Rākshasa. And thus consoled by them, and being proud of her good conduct and her husband's heroism, Sitā thus addressed Rāvana, the lord of Rākshasas, "Forsooth there is no person in this city who desireth thy welfare and therefore preventeth thee from such an impious deed. Who is there in the three worlds, who even dcsireth me in mind, who am the spouse of the virtuous-souled (Rāma) like unto Indra's Sachee. O thou the vilest of the Rākshasas, for using those vicious words towards the spouse of Rāma, of immeasured prowess, repairing whither shalt thou escape vengeance? Like unto an infuriated elephant encountering a hare in the forest, thou shalt O Vile! a hare as thou art, meet with that elephant-like Rāma. Thou art not ashamed of railing that lord of Ikshwākus, so long as dost thou not come within his ken. O base! why do not thy grim, terrible, coppery eyes, looking so viciously at me, fall down on earth. O vicious wretch, I am the spouse of that virtuous souled (Rāma) and daughter-in-law of Daçaratha—using these vile words towards me, why dost not thy tongue fall off? O Ten-necked one, I can instantly reduce thee to ashes but for Rāma's mandate and my ascetic observances. Thou couldst not have ravished me in the presence of the highly intelligent Rāma. And undoubtedly for thy destruction this hath been brought about by God. Thou art heroic and Kuvera's brother and great in prowess, why didst thou then take me by stealth after despatching Rāma away from the hermitage?" Hearing those words of Sitā, Rāvana, the lord of Rākshasas, whirling his grim eyes, looked towards the daughter of Janaka. He was like unto a mass of blue clouds and his arms and necks were long and spacious. He was gifted with elephantine gaits and his tongues and eyes were sharp and flaming. The top of his crown was shaking and he had charming garlands around his neck and his person sprinkled with paste. He had crimson-coloured garlands and clothes on and his charming arms were adorned with ornaments. Encircled with a sword-belt around his waist he appeared like unto Mandara, entwined by a snake at the time of the churning of the ocean. With his two plump arms, that lord of Rākshasas appeared like unto the hill Mandara with its two huge summits. And adorned with a pair of Kundalas³²⁵ resembling the newly risen Sun he looked like a hill covered with two Asoka trees enveloped with crimson flowers and leaves. He was like unto Kalpa³²⁶ tree and spring incarnate. And albeit adorned, he looked terrible like unto a Caitya³²⁷ on the cremation-ground. And having his eyes red hot with ire, sighing again and again like unto a snake and casting his looks upon Sitā, Rāvana addressed her again, saying,—"O thou following asceticism, this thy vow is without any meaning and beyond the pale of morality. Even shall I destroy thee to-day like unto the Sun dispelling darkness with his rays." Having thus addressed Maithilee, the inimical king Rāvana cast his looks towards the grim-visaged Rākshasees. And among those Rākshasees, some had huge ears, some had ears like those of kine, some had ears as long as arms, some had long ears and others were without any. And some had legs like those of an elephant; some had like those of a cow and some had legs covered with hairs. And some had one eye, some had one leg, some had capacious legs and some were without any. And some had huge heads and necks and some had breast and belly beyond proportions and some had faces and eyes above human size. Some had huge tongues and nails. And some were without noses. And some had leonine faces, some had faces like those of kine and some had those of boars. And casting his look towards such Rākshasees, he said—"Ye Rākshasees, do ye all endeavour to bring Sitā, the daughter of Janaka, under my control. By good or bad conduct, by conciliation or gift, by threat or blandishment, do ye so endeavour as Vaidehi's soul might be bent unto me." And having ordered thus again and again, that lord of Rākshasas, stricken with amour and ire, addressed Sitā, roaring fiercely. And thereupon approaching speedily and embracing the Ten-necked one, one Rākshasee named Dhānyamalini bespake him:—"Do thou sport with me, O great king. What shalt thou do with her?—O lord of Rākshasas—a human being,poorly and of a pale countenance. O great king, forsooth, the celestials have not destined for her enjoyment all those objects which thou hast procured by thy prowess. And again he who desireth for an unwilling dame burneth his own person—and he who desireth for a willing damsel, attaineth excess of delight." Having said this, the Rākshasee took away Rāvana by force. And that Rākshasa too, resembling a mass of clouds, laughing, turned back. And that Ten-necked one, strode away as if shaking the whole earth and passed within (his queen's) abode resembling the effulgent Sun. And encircling Rāvana those daughters of celestials Gandharbas and Nāgas, entered into an excellent abode. And having remonstrated with and left behind, the firm and pious Sitā with a trembling person, Rāvana, possessed by amour entered into his own palace.

SECTION XXIII.

Having spoken thus unto Maithilee and commanded the host of the Rākshasees, Rāvana, a terror unto his enemies, went away. And after that lord of Rākshasas had gone away and entered his inner apartment, the hideous Rākshasees drew near Sitā. And approaching Sitā that terrible host, almost faint with ire, addressed Vaidehi with the following harsh words—"Thou dost not regard it highly, Sitā, that thou shalt become the chosen wife of that high-souled, and great Rāvana, the Ten-necked son of Pulastya." Thereupon another Rākshasee name4 Ekjatā, with eyes rendered coppery with ire, addressing Sitā, having a small navel, said,—"Pulastya is the fourth of the six Prajāpatis,³²⁸ a mind-born son of Brahmā and celebrated in the world. And the glorious ascetic, by name Bishravā. was the mind-born son unto Pulastya, effulgent like unto Prajāpatis. O large-eyed damsel! Of Visravā came Rāvana terrible unto his enemies. And it behoveth thee to become the consort of that lord of Rākshasas. Scorn not the words I say unto thee, O thou of comely presence." Thereupon another Rākshasee named Harijatā, having the eyes of a cat, and whirling them with ire, said—"It becometh thee to be the wife of that lord of Rākshasas who smote the thirty three celestials and their lord in battle. Dost thou not desire to be his wife, who is heroic, of indomitable prowess and who doth not turn back in battle? And turning away in scorn from his beloved wife, highly esteemed, the mighty king Rāvana, desireth for thee. And leaving his inner apartment enriched with thousand of females and adorned with various jewels, Rāvana shall adore thee." And then followed another Rakshasee by name Bikatā—"The king, who by his terrible prowess subdued the Gandharbas³²⁹ and Nāgas³³⁰ in battle, hath stood by thee. O foolish damsel, why dost thou not wish to be the consort of that high-souled lord of Rākshasas—Rāvana, gifted with wealth and riches." And then followed another Rakshasee named Durmukhee.— "Why dost thou not approach him, O thou having expansive eyes, by whose fear, the sun doth not shine, and the wind doth not blow. O dame, why dost thou not wish to be the consort of Rāvana, the lord of Rākshasas, at whose command the trees shower blossoms and the hills and clouds pour down water. Why dost thou not make up thy mind to be the wife of Rāvana? O damsel, O worshipful dame, we have spoken thus for thy welfare. Do thou comply with our request or thou shalt surely die,"

SECTION XXIV.

Thereupon all those Rākshasees, having terrible faces again and again pursued Sitā with reproaches rough and rude.—"Why dost thou not desire, O Sitā, to live in his inner apartment, liked by all and abounding in costly bedsteads. O woman, thou regardest highly to be the wife of a man. Do thou turn back from Rāma—thy desire shall never be satisfied. Do thou spend happily thy days with our lord—Rāvana, the Rākshasa chief, who makes his own the treasures of the three worlds. Thou art a woman, O thou of comely presence, and therefore doth thy fancy cling to Rāma, O thou of a blameless countenance, who is a man, deprived of his kingdom, overwhelmed with disasters and hath his desires frustrated." Hearing the words of those Rākshasees, the lotus-eyed Sitā, with her eyes full of tears said.—"What ye have all said and which is against human usage and vicious, doth not find place in my mind. A woman cannot be the wife of a Rākshasa. Eat me up if you will, I will never follow your words. Poor or deprived of kingdom, he who is my hunband, is my preceptor. I am ever devoted unto him, like Subarchalā³³¹ unto the Sun. Like unto the great Sachi standing by Sakra, Arundhuti by Vashishta, Rohini by the Moon, Lopamudrā by Agastya, Sukanya by Chyabana, Sābitree by Satyabāna, Sreematee by Kapila, Madayantee by Sandasa, Keshinee by Sagara and Damayanti the daughter of the king Veema by her husband Nala, I shall ever remain devoted to my husband Rāma, the foremost of the descendants of Ikshawku." Hearing the words of Sitā, all those Rākshasees despatched by Rāvana, almost beside themselves with ire, again covered her with reproaches rough and rude. And Hanumān remained all along speechless and hidden on the Shingshapa tree. And that monkey heard all those demons remonstrate with Sitā in this way. And those, influenced with ire, approached the trembling Sitā and encircling her, licked again and again their long and burning lips. And taking up instantly spears, they exceedingly wroth, menaced her, saying—"She is not worthy of having Rāvana, the lord of the Rākshasas, as her lord." Being thus remonstrated with by those terrible Rākshasees, that excellent damsel, shedding tears, neared the Singshapa tree. And the large-eyed Sitā, encircled by the Rākshasees, remained there sunk in grief. And all those hideous demons, showered reproaches, from all sides, on her, greatly reduced, of a poorly countenance, and wearing a soiled cloth. Thereupon a grim-visaged demon, angry, having hideous teeth and a huge belly extending downwards, by name Vinatā, spake, saying:—"O Sitā, thou hast shown enough of attachment towards thy husband. But, O gentle dame, excess of any thing tends to evil. We are satisfied. And may good betide thee! Thou hast acted worthily like a woman. Do thou hear, O Maithilee, what I say for thy welfare. Do thou accept, Rāvana, the lord of the Rākshasa host, as thy husband. He withstands powerfully his enemies like unto Vāsava, the lord of the celestials, charitable, kind unto all, and sweet-speeched. And forsaking Rāma, a poor wight, do thou take Rāvana (as thy husband). Having thy person sprinkled with celestial paste and adorned with excellent ornaments, do thou from to-day O Vaidchi, O thou of comely presence, become the queen of all the worlds, like unto Sachee of the lord of the celestials and svāha³³² of the fire. What shalt thou do with Rāma, O Vaidehi, poor and of limited life? This is what I say and if dost thou not follow it we shall all instantly banquet on thee." And thereupon another Rākshasee named Vikatā, having her breast hanging long, exercised with ire, and clinching her fist, addressed, roaring, Sitā—"O foolish daughter of the king of Mithilā, we have put up with all thy foolish words only out of compassion, and because thou art a feeble being. It will not lead to thy well-being if thou dost not hear our words. Thou hast been brought here, the other side of the ocean, difficult of being approached by others. Thou hast come within the terrible abode of Rāvana O Maithilee, and hast been shut up in his room guarded by us all. And even, Purandara's³³³ self cannot save you. Do thou therefore hear, O Maithilee, my well-meaning words. Why dost thou shed tears? Renounce thy useless grief. Do thou become happy and delighted, renouncing thy continued melancholy. Do thou sport, O Sitā, at thy pleasure, with the lord of the Rākshasas. We know, for certain, O timid damsel, that the youth of the females, is very transient. And so long as thy youth doth not fade, do thou pass thy days happily, O thou having inebrite eyes, with the lord of Rākshasas, in picturesque gardens, and mountain forests. Do thou take, O fair damsel, Rāvana, the lord of the Rākshasas, for thy husband, and thousands of females shall be placed at thy service. If dost thou not follow, what I say, O Maithilee, I shall taking out thy heart, banquet on it." Thereupon another grim-visaged Rākshasee, named, Chandodorā, shaking her terrible spear, said—"Beholding this Sitā having the eyes of a young antelope and her breast trembling with fear, my earnest desire, as I am enciente, hath been to banquet on her large eyes, lever, spleen, her plump hands, heart, other limbs and head." Thereupon another Rākshasee named Praghasā said—"I shall grind the throat of this cruel woman. What are you doing, sitting there? Ye shall then relate unto the king that the woman is dead. And undoubtedly he shall say 'Do ye eat her up.'" And thereupon another Rākshasee named Ajāmukhee said "I do not like quarrels. Let us all divide her into equal portions. Bring soon our favourite drink and various garlands." Then followed another Rākshasee by name Surpanakhā,—"I do fully concur with what Ajāmukhee hath said. Bring soon wine, the remover of all griefs. Banquetting on human flesh I shall dance before the queen Nikumbhilā." Being thus threatened by those grim-visaged Rākshasees Sitā, resembling the daughter of a celestial, renouncing patience, began to weep.

SECTION XXV.

And those hideous Rākshasees thus threatning her with reproaches rude and rough, the daughter of the king Janaka began to weep. And being thus addressed by those Rākshasees, Vaidehi, of subdued soul, being greatly terrified, said, having her voice choked with vapour,—"A woman can never be the wife of a Rākshasa. Eat me up if you will, I shall never follow your words." And being surrounded by the Rākshasees and threatened by Rāvana, Sitā, resembling the daughter of a celestial, stricken with grief, could not console herself. And trembling, she shrank from their presence like unto a strayed fawn surrounded by wolves. And resorting to a flowery branch of an Asoka tree, she sunk in grief, thought upon her lord. With tears she bathed her beautiful breast and oppressed with woe, she could not reach the other bank of the ocean of grief. Like a plantain tree shaken by the breeze, she shook and fell down trembling (on the earth). And being afraid of the Rākshasees, her cheeks forsook their native hue. And herself trembling, her pretty long lock of hair also shook and appeared like a serpent moving this way and that. Overwhelmed with grief and beside herself with ire, the daughter of the king of Mithilā, wept and exclaimed sorrowfully,—"O mother Kausalyā! O queen Sumitra! true is the saying of the wise that death doth never approach untimely the male or the female. Or else I would not have lived for a moment, separated from Rāma and oppressed by the Rākshasees as I am. Limited is my virtue, and therefore I am to die the death of a poor deserted thing like unto a bark driven by the blast in the midst of the ocean. Debarred from my husband's sight and tortured by the hideous demons, I shall sink, oppressed with woes, like unto the banks of a river, washed by the water. Oh blest are they who have been resting their eyes upon my grateful and sweet-speeched lord of leonine gaits, having eyes resembling lotus petals! And separated frpm Rāma of subdued soul, it is as difficult for me to breathe as for him who hath drank up virulent poison. What mighty iniquity had I perpetrated in my previous existence that I have met with this terrible disaster! I wish to renounce my life under this load of grief—but alas! I am surrounded by the Rākshasees and cannot meet Rāma. Oh! cursed is this subject human life, that they cannot renounce it even at their pleasure"!

SECTION XXVI.

Saying this, the daughter of the king Janaka, bathed her countenance with tears and hanging down her head began to lament. And she began to roll on the earth like unto a colt as if she was mad, possessed by a devil and had lost her sense. "I, the spouse of Rāma, who was drawn away at a distance by the Rākshasa (Māricha) assuming shapes at will, was seized and borne away by Rāvana. A captive of the Rākshasas, subject to their terrible threats and taunts, sunk in grief and anxiety,—I desire not to keep my life. Of what avail are wealth, ornament and life unto me, who am living in the midst of the Rākshasas and separated from Rāma, of the mighty car? Forsooth my life is made of stone, imperishable and immortal since it is not riven asunder even by this mighty grief. Woe to me! who am unchaste and vile and my life is vicious, since breathe I still in the absence of my lord. What of fixing my fancy on that night-ranger, my meaner foot even shall not touch him? That (demon) who is courting me in this terrible way, doth not know himself, his own race and that I loathe him so much. What more shall I speak unto you, I shall never consent to Rāvana's prayer, I might be rent from limb to limb or burnt in fire. Rāghava is grateful, true, wise and kind. I fear it is through my ill-luck that he doth not feel pity for me. Will he not take me back who alone slew the thousands of the Rashasas in Janasthāna? I have been captured by Rāvana, a Rākshasa of feeble prowess. Forsooth my lord is capable of slaying this Rāvana in conflict. Will not that Rāma regain me, by whom was killed in the forest of Dandaka, Virādha, the foremost of the Rākshasa crew? Although situated in the midst of the ocean, Lankā is unapproachable by others, but Rāghava's arrows shall also reach here. (I am at a loss to ascertain) why Rāma of firm prowess, doth not regain me, his beloved spouse who have been borne away by the Rākshasa. Methinks Rāma doth not know that I am here, or else, powerful as he is, he would not have put up with this insult. That lord of vultures, who could have informed Rāghava, of my being borne away by the Rākshasa, was killed by Rāvana in the battle. O great was the work done by him, who, old as he was, for my sake, addressed himself to bring about Rāvana's destruction. If Rāghava could know that I was here, he, exceedingly wroth, would have cleared the earth with his arrows, of the Rākshasas. He would have then burnt down the city of Lankā, dried up the deep and blotted out the name and fame of Rāvana. And from each ruined home would have risen the Rākshasa widows' groans and cries like unto those of mine. And instituting enquiries, along with Lakshmana, he shall soon reduce Lankā to this plight. And observed by them the enemy shall not live for a moment. And in no time, shall Lankā, assume the appearance of a cremation ground, having all her high ways enveloped with smoke issuing out of the funeral pyres, and filled with vultures. And soon shall this desire of mine be fulfilled. All these words of mine do sound improbable now but they all indicate your misfortune. Besides from these bad omens, that are to be seen here, it appeareth, that Lankā shall soon be shorn of her grace. The lord of the Rākshasas, the vicious Rāvana being killed, forsooth shall Lankā, divested of wealth, appear like a widow. This Lankā, which is now full of pious ceremonies, shall, on the death of the Rākshasas and their master, appear like a husbandless woman. For certain, shall I soon hear the cries and groans in every house, of the daughters of the Rākshasas worn with grief. If that heroic Rāma, having dark-blue eyes, comes to know that I am in the abode of the Rākshasas, the city of Lankā shall be burnt down with his arrows and shall be stricken with darkness and shorn of grace and all the foremost of the Rākshasas shall be destroyed. The time which was appointed by the vile and cruel Rāvana, hath arrived. And that vicious wretch hath resolved to destroy me now. There is no crime which cannot be perpetrated by those vicious demons. Mighty is the disaster that shall arise on account of this crime—the Rākshasas who live on flesh do not know what virtue is. Forsooth shall the Rākshasa serve me for his morning meal. What shall I do without my lord of comely presence? Debarred from my husband's presence, stricken with grief and not beholding Rāma, having dark-blue eyes, I shall soon meet with death. Rāma, the elder brother of Bharata, doth not know that I am still alive or else he and Lakshmana would have ransacked the whole world for me. Or renouncing his body on this earth for my grief, the heroic elder brother of Lakshmana, hath repaired to the celestial region. Blessed are the celestials, Gandharbas, Siddhas and mighty ascetics who are beholding my heroic lotus-eyed Rāma. Or that highly intelligent royal ascetic deairous of securing piety and freed from the troubles of life, hath no need of a wife like me. Or people have fancy for what they see and which disappeateth as soon as the object is out of sight. The ungrateful are capable of renouncing their love, but not Rāma. Or there might be some folly in me. Or on the wane of my good luck have been separated irom the excellent Rāma. Death is more preferable unto me than life since I have been separated trom the high-souled heroic Rāma, of unblemished character and the slayer of foes. Or those two brothers, the foremost of men, laying aside their weapons, and living on fruits and roots, have been wandering in the forest. Or those two heroic brothers Rāma and Lakshmana, have been, by treachery, put to death, by the vicious-souled Rāvana, the lord of Rākshasas. At this time of distress, I do with all my heart long lor death,—(but alas!) even death is not approaching me in this my misery. Oh blessed are those high-souled, great ascetics abiding by truth and having their senses in control, who have no objects of love or displeasure. They are not distressed with misery for their objects of love or grief for them whom they do not love. They are freed from them and I do bow unto those high-souled ones. Being forsaken by the beloved Rāma, knowing his ownself, and brought under the control of Rāvana, I shall renounce my life."

SECTION XXVII.

Being thus addressed angrily by Sitā, some of those Rākshasees, beside themselves with ire, proceeded to relate this unto the vicious-souled Rāvana. And approaching Sitā those grim-visaged demons again addressed her with words rude and rough. "O vile Sitā, O thou bent on committing sin, we Rākshasees shall to-day devour thy flesh to the best of our satisfaction." Beholding those vile demons threaten Sitā, a Rākshasa matron, wise and old, named, Trijatā cried—"O vile demons, do ye eat your own persons³³⁴ but do not devour Sitā, the daughter of Janaka and the esteemed daughter-in-law of the king Daçaratha. I dreamt a terrible dream last night which made my down stand on their end. And in that dream I foresaw the overthrow of the Rākshasa race and the conquest of her husband." And being thus addressed by Trijatā, those demons, exercised with wrath and terrified, accosted her with the following words,—"Do thou relate (unto us) what sort of dream didst thou dream last night." And hearing those words proceeding from the mouths of the Rākshasees, Trijatā began to describe the dream she had at the latter end of the night,—"I saw Rāma, wearing garlands and clothed in white, ride in a celestial charriot, along with Lakshmana, made of ivory, traversing the etherial regions and drawn by a hundred steeds. I saw in my dream to-night, that Sitā, clad in the purest white, appearing on a snow-white hill beaten by the waves of the ocean, had at last met Rāma, like unto light joined to the Sun. And I again saw Rāma and Lakshmana appear in effulgence, seated on a huge elephant, having four tusks and resembling a bull. Thereupon those two (brothers), resplendant like unto the Sun by their own effulgence, and wearing white garlands and clothes, appeared near Janaka's daughter. And the lotus eyed Jānaki, on the top of the hill situate on the welkin, first fell on the lap of her husband and then stationed herself on the neck of the elephant guided by her husband. Then I saw Sitā rubbing the Sun and the Moon with her two hands. And then that best of the elephants, with those two princes and the large eyed Sitā on him, stood high above Lankā. I again saw Rāma, clad in white, and adorned with garlands, ride along with Lakshmana in a charriot drawn by eight white bullocks. I again saw that highly energetic, best of men—Rāma, having truth for his prowess, along with his brother Lakshmana and Sitā flee to Northern realms, ascending a celestial flowery charriot resembling (in brightness) the Sun. And I saw Rāvana too, shaved and shorn, besmeared with oil, wearing a crimson cloth, drinking honey, wearing a garland of Karavira flowers, fall down on earth from the flowery charriot. And dragged by a woman, shaved, wearing a red cloth and garlands and sprinkled with crimson paste, Rāvana was again seen by me riding in a charriot drawn by asses. And quaffing oil, laughing and dancing, that one of agitated senses, forgetting himself sped on the charriot to the South.³³⁵ And I again saw Rāvana, the lord of the Rākshasas, stricken with fear, fall, headless, down on the earth. And then rising all on a sudden, and uttering obscene and inconsistent words like unto a maniac, Rāvana overwhelmed with fear, and amazement, and intoxicated, fell into a mass of dirt, stinking and resembling the very hell. And again proceeding to the South he entered into a lake devoid of mud and water. And a dark woman, clad in a crimson cloth, and bedaubed with mud, dragged the Ten-necked demon, entwining herself round his neck. Then followed the mighty Kumvakarna³³⁶ and all the sons of Rāvana, shaved and shorn and besmeared with oil. And they all proceeded southward—the Ten-necked demon on on a boar, Indrajit³³⁷ on a porpoise, and Kumvakarna on a camel. I saw only Biveesana, with a white umbrella and accompanied by four courtiers, range in the welkin. And there was audible in the large assembly sound of music and stringed instruments. And all the Rākshasas wearing crimson clothes and garlands, were quaffing oil. I saw the royal and picturesque city Lankā with her steeds, cars and elephants, drowned in the ocean, having her gateways and ornamented arches broken. And in Lankā, covered with dust, Rākshasa women, laughing; and making terrible sound, were engaged in quaffing oil. I saw all the leading Rākshasas—Kumvakarna and others, dark-hued and wearing crimson clothes, emerged in an abyss of cow dung. Do ye therefore fly at some distance, and will find that Rāghava shall regain Sitā. And exercised with ire he shall destroy you all along with the Rākshasas. Rāghava shall never brook, his esteemed and beloved spouse, living in the forest, being taunted and threatened by you. No more with rough words therefore; do you console the lady and humbly pray her to forgive you. This I think proper. Surely shall she, divested of misfortune, be reconciled to her beloved and excellent husband, regarding whom, in her misery, I have dreamt such a dream. Ye Rākshasees! You have threatened her, do ye implore her forgiveness—no more with harsh words. Forsooth, from Rāghava shall proceed the mighty disaster of the Rākshasas. If Maithilee, the daughter of the king Janaka, be pleased with you (for your imploring her forgiveness) you might be saved from the mighty disaster. I do not perceive any inauspicious mark on the person of this large-eyed dame. It appears from the paleness of her countenance that she hath been overcome by misfortune. And I saw (in my dreamt this worshipful damsel, unworthy of any misfortune, stationed in the welkin. Verily I do perceive, before me, the satisfaction of Vaidehi's end, the destruction of the lord of the Rākshasas and the conquest of Rāghava. Behold I there, her left eye, spacious, as a lotus-petal, is dancing to hear this pleasant dream announcing the satisfaction of her own end. And her left arm is also dancing with joy, all on a sudden. And her excellent beautiful left thigh, resembling the trunk of an elephant, is also dancing as if indicating, that she shall at no distant date, be reconciled to Rāghava. And the birds, again and again, entering their nests, and highly delighted are pouring forth their notes announcing the advent of a happy occasion." Thereupon that modest dame, greatly delighted in the prospective conquest of her husband, said— "If this be true I shall save you all."

SECTION XXVIII.³³⁸

Hearing those unpleasant words of Rāvana, the lord of Rākshasas, Sitā, racked with sorrow on account of her husband, became terrified, like unto a she-elephant, worsted by a lion on the skirt of a forest. Threatened by Rāvana and encircled by the Rākshasees, that timid damsel bewailed like a girl cast off in a lonely forest. "Truly the sages say that death in this world doth not come untimely. Or else would I have, vicious as I am, lived for a moment, being thus sorely threatened. Forsooth, my mind, divested of happiness and full of misery, is firm or else why is it not broken in sunder like unto the summit of a hill clapped by a thunderbolt. Nor am I to blame for this—I am worthy of being killed by this demon of uncomely presence. As a Brahmana cannot impart instructions in Vedas unto the people of other castes so I shall not confer my mind on Rāvana. If that lord of the people doth not come within the appointed time, forsooth shall that vile lord, of the Rākshasas, mince my limbs with his arrows like unto a surgeon cutting off the limbs of an embryo.³³⁹ Two months shall pass away in no time and I shall have to suffer the pain of death, overwhelmed with sorrow as I am, like unto a thief, confined in stocks, at the command of the sovereign to receive death the next morning. Rāma! Lakshmana! O Sumitra! O Rāma's mother! O my mothers! I am worsted in this ocean of grief, like unto a bark, driven hither and thither by the blast, in the midst of an ocean. Verily for me, those two powerful, lion-like sons of the king, have been killed by (this demon) effulgent like the lightning and assuming the semblance of a deer. Unfortunate as I am, forsooth I was tempted then by death wearing the shape of a deer and thus foolishly lost Rāma and Lakshmana, the sons of the worshipful sire. O Rāma, O thou of truthful vows, O thou of long arms, O thou having the countenance of a full moon! O my life! engaged as thou art in the welfare of the people, dost thou not perceive that I am about to be killed by the Rākshasas. Alas! this my devotedness unto my husband, my forgiveness, my lying down on the bare earth, my observance of religious vows, my wife-like virtues, are lost like unto service done for an ungrateful wight. In vain are my pious rites, and in vain is my devotedness unto my husband—since I do not behold thee, am pale and feeble in thy absence and have given up all hopes of seeing thee. And duly satisfying thy sire's command, and returning successfully from the forest, thou shalt fearlessly sport with many a damsel having large eyes. (But for me) O Rāma, I was for my own destruction, devoted, soul and heart, unto thee. Oh! fruitless is my asceticism and wifely virtue! Oh fie on me! I shall renounce this my unfortunate life. I desire to do away speedily with my being by means of poison or a sharp weapon. But there is no one in this city of the Rākshasas, who bringeth me this poison or weapon." Bewailing thus in various accents, and remembering Rāma with all her heart, Sitā, having her countenance dried up, and trembling, got at the biggest tree enveloped with flowers. And thinking thus, Sitā, stricken with grief, took up in her hand, her braid of hair and thought—"I shall soon hang myself with this braid and reach the abode of Death. And that one of tender person reached the tree, and holding a branch, began to think of Rāma, Lakshmana, and the glory of her race. And on her person were perceived many auspicious marks, well-known in the world, removing grief, fostering patience, and announcing the advent of future welfare.

SECTION XXIX.

Like unto servants waiting upon a wealthy person various auspicious omens waited upon Sitā of a blameless and comely person, racked with grief and divested of joy. And the large left eye of that dame having graceful hairs, having dark pupils, white ends and thick eye-lashes, began to dance like a lotus shaken by a fish. And her beautiful, round, plump left hand, which, ere this, sprinkled with costly aguru and sandal, used to serve for a pillow unto Rāma, began to dance now again and again after a long time. And her well built plump left thigh, resembling the trunk of an elephant, dancing, announced that she would soon behold Rāma. And the gold-hued cloth, now covered with dust, of that damsel of a comely person, having teeth like pomegranate seeds, slipped a little off its place. And being enlivened by those and various other auspicious omens, she attained joy like unto a seed, spoiled by the wind and the sun, growing afresh in the rainy season. And her countenance, having lips red as Bimba fruits, beautiful eyes, eye-brows extending to ears, curling eye-lashes and white teeth, again appeared graceful like unto the Moon released from the full grasp of Rāhu.³⁴⁰ Her grief and exhaustion were removed—sorrow was pacified and her heart was filled with joy. And she with her countenance appeared beautiful like a lunar night beautified by the rays of the Moon.

SECTION XXX.

And the powerful Hanumān, heard from the beginning to the end (the bewailings) of Sitā, the story of Trijata's dream and the threats of the Rākshasees. And beholding the worshipful damsel, living in the forest of Asoka, like unto a celestial damsel in the garden of Nandana, the monkey entered in a maze of anxious thoughts. "At length my watchful eyes have seen her, whom have been seeking in vain, the thousands and millions of the monkeys in all directions and quarters. Truly have I seen her to-day, engaged as I have been as a spy to estimate the strength of the ememy and am ranging secretly everywhere. I have seen minutely the city of the Rākshasas, and the strength of Rāvana, the lord of Rākshasasas. It now remains to console the spouse of Rāma of incomparable power, and kind unto all, who panteth for her lord. I shall console this damsel, having the countenance of the full moon, who had never seen grief before, and who shall not soon reach its end. And if I go away without soothing this chaste lady, who is almost senseless with grief, I shall be blamed of neglect of duty. And if I go away, the royal daughter, the famed Jānaki, finding no means of safety, shall, for certain, renounce her life. She is worthy of being consoled like unto the great armed (Rāma) having the countenance of the full-moon and anxious to behold Sitā. It is not proper to speak before the Rākshasas— What shall I do then? I am in very great difficulty. If I do not console her at this latter end of the night, surely shall she renounce her life. How shall I answer Rāma, without consoling Sitā of comely stature, when he will ask me "What message from my Sitā?" And if I speedily repair hence without any information regarding Sitā, surely shall Kākuthstha scorch me lifeless with the fire of his angry eyes. And if I urge my lord the king (Biveeshana) to bring his hosts here for Rāma, in vain shall be his toil³⁴¹. And seizing the occasion when she shall be free from her demonaic guards, I shall console her in her dire distress. And a puny monkey as I am, I shall speak in Sanskrit³⁴² which men delight to use. And if I speak Sanskrit like a Brahmana, Sitā shall be terrified considering me Rāvana. Must I therefore use the language of a common man³⁴³ or else I shall not be able to console the dame of a blameless person. And beholding my monkey shape and hearing my human language she might be afraid again, terrified as she had been before by the band of the Rākshasas. And considering me Rāvana wearing shapes at will, that large-eyed and high-minded dame, shall cry piteously for help. And Sitā, making a sudden noise, those terrible Rākshasees resembling Death himself and armed with various weapons, shall at once arrive there. And thereupon casting their looks all around and finding me out, those highly powerful and grim-visaged demons shall try to kill or catch me. And beholding me leap from branch to branch and trunk to trunk of big trees they shall be greatly alarmed. And espying my appearance while ranging in the forest, those Rākshasees greatly terrified, shall fill the wood with their wild shouts. And then they shall call (to their assistance) all those Rākshasees engaged in guarding the abode of the lord of the Rākshasas. And they, greatly agitated, shall with vehemence arrive here, armed with darts, arrows, scimitars and various other weapons. And being surrounded by them on all sides, if I do kill that host of demons, tired, I shall not be able to bound over the main. And if that host of skilled demons, succeed in making me a captive, I too shall be in their hands and Sitā shall remain ignorant of my object. Or the Rākshasas, pernicious as they are, shall kill the daughter of Janaka, and there shall the great work of Rāma and Sugriva, be spoiled. And Jānaki liveth in this secret place, girt by the ocean, guarded on all sides by the Rākshasas, difficult of being got at and having all avenues to it shut up. If I am killed or captured by Rākshasas in battle, I do not find any who can help Rāma in his enterprise. Myself killed, I do not find any monkey who can leap a hundred leagues across the sea. I am capable of destroying thousands of Rākshasas, but I shall not then be able to get at the other shore of the great ocean. Victory or defeat is uncertain in a battle—I do not (therefore) like to engage in such an uncertain (act). What wise man merges certainty in uncertainty? It is a great sin in me (I own) to talk with Sitā—But she will die if I do not talk with her. Works, almost accomplished, when entrusted to an inconsiderate emissary, are generally spoiled, out of season and out of place, like unto darkness driven by the appearance of the sun. All those works, which are generally taken in hand after duly deliberating over their propriety and impropriety, are generally spoiled by those emissaries who are proud of their learning. What shall I do, by which my work is not injured, I am not blamed of foolishness and my crossing over the main doth not become fruitless? What shall I do so that Sitā might listen to me without being terrified?" Thinking over this, the intelligent Hanumān arrived at a conclusion. "I shall not disturb her, speaking (all on a sudden) about Rāma of unwearied actions, dear unto her and to whom, she is firmly attached. Uttering the name of Rāma, the foremost of the Ikshawkus, and of subdued soul and lauding his piety and fame in sweet accents, I shall so manage that Sitā might hear and believe them." Beholding the spouse of that high-souled lord of the earth and engaging in this train of thoughts, Hanumān, stationed on a branch of the tree, spoke the following sweet words.

SECTION XXXI.

Meditating thus the highly intelligent monkey spoke in accents, sweet and in such a tone as they might be, heard by Vaidehi. "There reigned a noble and pious king named Daçaratha, highly glorious amongst the Ikshawkus, the lord of the warrior-cars, steeds and elephants. Devoid of envy, high-minded, kind, having truth for Us prowess, the foremost of the Ikshawku race, wealthy and the enhancer of wealth; gifted with royal marks; highly beautiful; the foremost of the kings; famous all over the world of many oceans; the conferrer of happiness and himself happy. His eldest and most beloved son was the Moon-bright Rāma, wise and the foremost of those who know the science of the bended bow. He was the protector of his own character, of his own kinsmen, of the whole world of creation and of virtue and subduer of foes. And banished by his old and truthful sire's commands, that hero, along with his wife and brother (Lakshmana) repaired to the forest. And while roaming a-hunting in the forest he slew many a heroic Rākshasa wearing shapes at will. And having heard of the destruction of the Rākshasas of Janasthāna and of Khara and Dushana, the illusive Rāvana, assuming shapes at will, beguiling Rāma, in the forest, stole away his consort—the Janaka's daughter. And roaming the country around in quest of the blameless and worshipful Sitā, Rāma found a firm friend in Sugriva. And bringing about the destruction of Vāli, Rāma, the conqueror of others' cities, conferred the monkey-kingdom upon the high-souled Sugriva. And by Sugriva's decree, thousands of monkeys, wearing shapes at will, have been searching that worshipful dame in various directions. And by Sampati's counsel and for that large eyed dame, I have leapt a hundred leagues across the deep. I have at last got her. And such were the form, grace and the marks that Rāghava mentioned unto me." Having said this, the foremost of the monkeys ceased. And greatly wondered was Sitā hearing those words. Thereupon that timid dame, having good curling hair, raising up her face covered with hairs, looked up to the Singshapa tree. And hearing the words of the monkey and casting her eyes to all directions and quarters, Sitā attained an excess of delight, being engaged in thoughts concerning Rāma. And looking around her and upwards, she beheld, like unto the rising sun, the Wind-god's son, gifted with inconceivable intellect,—the minister of the king of monkeys.

SECTION XXXII.

And beholding that tawny-colored monkey like unto a mass of lightnings and wearing a white cloth, hidden on the tree, Sitā's mind was greatly agitated. And she saw there the humble, sweet-speeched monkey, appearing graceful like unto a collection of full-blown Asoka flowers and having eyes resembling burning gold. And observing that foremost of the monkeys, sitting humbly, that daughter of the king of Mithilā, again greatly amazed, thought.—"This monkey is the most terrible of his race and therefore hard to be got at and looked at." Thinking this she again sank in fear. And stricken with grief she again bewailed in piteous accents exclaiming,—"O Rāma! O Lakshmana!" And she wept silently and lowly. And then beholding that best of monkeys approach her humbly, the fair daughter of the Mithili's king, thought,—"Is this a dream mine eyes have seen?" And she again looked towards that Wind-god's son, the foremost of the monkeys, the best of those gifted with intelligence, having a huge disfigured countenance, highly accomplished and wearing a dress mentioned before. And beholding him Sitā was almost out of breath with fear. And regaining soon her sense the large-eyed damsel again thought, —"I have seen a very inauspicious dream to-day—to see a monkey in a dream is reckoned inauspicious by the sages. May good betide Rāma, Lakshmana and my Sire the king of Janaka. It is no dream, I have not slept, worn with grief and trouble as I am. Apart from my lord having the countenance of the full-moon, I have no happiness. Thinking of Rāma always and uttering his name, each sight I see and each sound I hear brings him to my eye or ear. And therefore his form appearing in my mind is distressing me to-day, who am entirely sunk in his thoughts. And thinking of him always I see him before me and hear his words. Methinks this is but a phantom of the mind. And thinking this I still behold the same. But an imaginary object can never have a form. And I still find a distinct form addressing me. Be glory to Vāchaspati, Indra, the self existent Brahmā, the lord of fire and may they so grant that the creature who hath spoken before me, be real and not imaginary."

SECTION XXXIII.

Thereupon coming down from the tree, Hanumān, the highly effulgent son of Wind, having a coral-red countenance and attired in a humble guise, approached Sitā and joining reverentially his palms, addressed her with the following sweet words,—"Who art thou, O thou having eyes like lotus petals and wearing a soiled silken cloth, who art waiting there holding a branch of the tree? Why are the tears of sorrow flowing from thy eyes like unto drops of water falling from lotus petals? Who art thou, O most fair of face, amongst the celestials, Asuras, Nāgas, Gandharbas, Rākshasas, and Yakshas and Kinnaras? Do the Rudra's³⁴⁴ claim thy birth O thou fair damsel? Or the swift gods who ride the storm? Or the Vasus?³⁴⁵ Thou appearest to me as of a celestial race. Art thou Rohini, the best and most accomplished of the stars, who, reft from the Moon, hath fallen down from the abode of the celestials? Who art thou O blessed dame, O thou having blameless eyes? Art thou, O lotus-eyed damsel, the blessed Arundhuti, who hath fled in wrath or jealous pride from the side of her lord (Vashishtha)? Or O lovely damsel, who is the son, father, brother or husband gone from this world for whom thou art weeping? Yet by thy tears and sighs, by the earth thou art treading and by calling on a monarch's name it appears that thou art not a celestial.³⁴⁶ But from the marks on thy person it appeareth that thou art either the consort or the daughter of a king. Art thou that Sitā, I do ask thee, who had been stolen and borne away by Rāvana from Janasthāna? May good betide thee! From thy wretched plight, thy unrivalled beauty and thy ascetic garb, thou art, I ween, for certain, the queen of Rāma." Hearing those words of Hanumān and greatly delighted at Rāma's name, Vaidehi spoke unto him—"I am the daughter-in-law of Daçaratha, knowing his own self, the foremost of the kings of the world and the slayer of the enemy's host, and the daughter of Janaka the high-souled king of Videha. My name is Sitā and I am the consort of the highly intelligent Rāma. I lived twelve years in Rāghava's abode, enjoying every earthly comfort and satisfying every desire. And at the beginning of the thirteenth year the king, advised by his priest, arranged for the installation of the descendant of Ikswakus (Rāma) on the throne. And while the articles for the installation were being collected, the queen Kaikeyi addressed her lord saying—'I shall not drink or eat for days and this shall be the end of my existence if Rāma be installed. If thou dost not wish to falsify the vow³⁴⁷ thou made unto me, O best of kings, let Rāma then repair to the forest." The monarch was truthful and remembering his vow and hearing the unpleasant and vile words of Kaikeyi lost himself (in grief). And thereupon the old king abiding by truth, weeping, begged of his elslest son, the kingdom. The graceful Rāma liked his sire's command more than the installation, and resolving within him, promised to obey his words. Rāma, having truth for his prowess, never, for his life, takes back what he gives, never speaks an untruth and always speaks truth. And leaving aside his costly attire, the highly glorious (Rāma) renounced with all his heart the kingdom and gave me over to his mother. But myself wearing the garb of an ascetic, repaired speedily before him. Separated from him, I do not like to live even in the celestial region. And the great son of Sumitrā,the enhancer of friends' joys, to follow his elder brother, dressed himself in bark and kusa. And thus abiding by our sire's behest, and taking firm vows we entered a dreary forest never seen before. While that one, of unmitigated effulgence was thus living in the forest of Dandaka, I, his consort, was stolen by the vicious-souled Rākshasa—Rāvana. He hath kindly allowed me two months' respite after which I shall be slain.

SECTION XXXIV.

HEARING those words of Sitā stricken with grief, Hanumān, the foremost of the monkeys, replied in soothing words, "O worshipful lady, by Rāma's decree I come as a messenger unto thee. He is safe and sound, O Vaidehi, and has asked of thy welfare. O worshipful dame, Rāma, the son of Daçaratha, the master of the Vedas, and the foremost of those conversant with Vedas hath enquired of thy welfare. And the highly effulgent Lakshmana, the beloved follower of thy husband, worn with grief, bows his reverential head unto thee." Hearing of the welfare of those two lions among men, the worshipful dame, with all her frame worked up with rapture, again spake unto Hanumān, saying—"Verily the wise saw of the people appears to me to be true that once in a hundred years true joy appears to a living man". Sitā, at that time, attained such a wonderful joy, as would have been acquired by her in the company (of Rāma and Lakshmana). And they confidingly conversed with each other. Hearing those words of Sitā,racked with sorrow, Hanumān, the son of the Wind-god drew a little nearer to her. The more Hanumān approached her the more Sitā suspected him as Rāvana. "Alas! Alas! why have I spoken to him? It is the Rāvana, who hath appeared again in a new disguise." And leaving off the Asoka branch, that one having a blameless person, overwhelmed with grief, sat down on the earth. In the meantime the mighty-armed monkey bowed unto Janaka's daughter, but she, worked up with fear, did not cast again her looks towards him. And beholding him bow unto her, Sitā, having a moon-like countenance, sighing, spake unto that monkey in sweet accents—"If thou art that Rāvana's self, who, changing thy shape by magic art, want to distress me again—this thy vile deed doth not behove thee. Thou art surely that Rāvana, whom I saw at Janasthāna, in a mendicant's guise, renouncing his own shape, O night-ranger, O thou wearing shapes at will! it doth not behove thee to distress me who am poorly and famished with fasts. But no, thou canst not be (the fiend) whom I suspect, since I have such joy from seeing thee. And may good betide thee if thou art Rāma's messenger. I do ask thee, O foremost of monkeys, something about Rāma that is pleasant unto me. O monkey, do thou relate the glories of my dear Rāma. Thou art (thus) shaking my mind O gentle one, like unto water breaking down the banks of a river. Alas! this dream has afforded me immense pleasure since, I, who have been separated from my lord for so long a time, have beheld this monkey sent by Rāghava. I do not sink even if I can behold in dream the heroic Rāghava along with Lakshmana—but dream even is jealous of my well-being. Nor do I regard this as dream. To behold a monkey in a dream doth not lead to prosperity—whereas I have attained it.³⁴⁸ Or is it mental derangement? Or have I been possessed by a devil? Or have I run mad? Or is it the sultry vapour floating over sands and appearing at a distance like water? No, it is not madness—for derangement of mind is the sign of madness—I have not lost sense and I do distinctly perceive me and the monkey." Thinking thus in many a way and ascertaining the strength (of the monkey and the Rākshasa) Sitā took him for the lord of the Rākshasas, wearing shapes at will. And having arrived at this decision, Janaka's daughter—Sitā, ceased from talking with that monkey. And apprised of Sitā's thought, Hanumān, the Wind god's son, (replied) in words sweet unto her and enhancing her delight—"Bright as the sun that lights the sky and dear as the moon to every eye, he pleases all his subjects with bounties like unto those of Vaisrabana.³⁴⁹ He is gifted with prowess like unto the greatly famed Vishnu, truthful and sweet-speeched like unto Vāchaspati.³⁵⁰ Graceful, grateful to the eye and beautiful like unto Kandarva's³⁵¹ self, he displays his wrath in a proper quarter—the foremost of men and of a mighty car. The whole world of creation (liveth safe) in the shadow of the arms of that high-souled one. Thou shalt soon see the consequences he shall reap by whom, assuming the shape of a dear, Rāghava was taken away from the hermitage and thou wert stolen away from that lonely place. And soon shall that powerful (hero) destroy Rāvana in the battle, with fiery arrows, discharged angrily. I have been sent by him as a messenger to thee. Worn with grief in thy separation he hath enquired of thy welfare, as well the highly effulgent Lakshmana, the enhancer of Sumitra's joy, bowing reverentially unto thee. The king of monkey hosts, by name Sugriva—Rāma's friend, hath also enquired of thy welfare, worshipful dame. Rāma, Sugriva and Lakshmana, have thee always in their minds. Blessed are we, O Vaidehi, that thou dost still live, subject as thou art to the Rākshasees. Thou shalt soon behold Rāma, and Lakshmana of a mighty car, and Sugriva of unmitigated prowess in the midst of the million of monkey hosts. I am Sugriva's minister, by name Hanumān. I have entered this city of Lankā after crossing over the great main. And by means of my prowess and placing my feet on the head of the vicious-souled Rāvana, I have come here to see thee. I am not he (Rāvana) for whom thou art taking me, O worshipful dame. Do thou renounce thy suspicion and rely on my words."