Then thus the King addressed the sage:-- "No power have I, my lord, to wage War with this evil-minded foe; Now pity on my darling show, And upon me of hapless fate, For thee as G.o.d I venerate.

G.o.ds, spirits, bards of heavenly birth, The birds of air, the snakes of earth Before the might of Ravan quail, Much less can mortal man avail.

He draws, I hear, from out the breast, The valor of the mightiest.

No, ne'er can I with him contend, Or with the forces he may send.

How can I then my darling lend, G.o.dlike, unskilled in battle? No, I will not let my young child go.

Foes of thy rite, those mighty ones, Sunda and Upasunda's sons, Are fierce as Fate to overthrow: I will not let my young child go.

Maricha and Suvahu fell Are valiant and instructed well.

One of the twain I might attack With all my friends their lord to back."

CANTO XXIII

VASISHTHA'S SPEECH

While thus the hapless monarch spoke, Paternal love his utterance broke.

Then words like these the saint returned, And fury in his bosom burned:-- "Didst thou, O King, a promise make, And wishest now thy word to break?

A son of Raghu's line should scorn To fail in faith, a man forsworn.

But if thy soul can bear the shame I will return e'en as I came.

Live with thy sons, and joy be thine, False scion of Kakutstha's line."

As Visvamitra, mighty sage, Was moved with this tempestuous rage, Earth rocked and reeled throughout her frame, And fear upon the Immortals came.

But Saint Vasishtha, wisest seer, Observant of his vows austere, Saw the whole world convulsed with dread, And thus unto the monarch said:-- "Thou, born of old Ikshvaku's seed, Art Justice' self in mortal weed.

Constant and pious, blest by fate, The right thou must not violate.

Thou, Raghu's son, so famous through The triple world as just and true, Perform thy bounden duty still, Nor stain thy race by deed of ill.

If thou have sworn and now refuse Thou must thy store of merit lose.

Then, Monarch, let thy Rama go?

Nor fear for him the demon foe.

The fiends shall have no power to hurt Him trained to war or inexpert-- Nor vanquish him in battle field, For Kusik's son the youth will shield.

He is incarnate Justice, he The best of men for bravery-- Embodied love of penance drear, Among the wise without a peer.

Full well he knows, great Kusik's son, The arms celestial, every one, Arms from the G.o.ds themselves concealed, Far less to other men revealed.

These arms to him, when earth he swayed, Mighty Krisasva, pleased, conveyed.

Krisasva's sons they are indeed, Brought forth by Daksha's lovely seed, Heralds of conquest, strong and bold, Brilliant, of semblance manifold.

Jaya and Vijaya, most fair, A hundred splendid weapons bare; Of Jaya, glorious as the morn, First fifty n.o.ble sons were born, Boundless in size yet viewless too, They came the demons to subdue.

And fifty children also came Of Vijaya the beauteous dame, Sanharas named, of mighty force, Hard to a.s.sail or check in course; Of these the hermit knows the use, And weapons new can he produce.

All these the mighty saint will yield To Rama's hand, to own and wield; And armed with these, beyond a doubt Shall Rama put those fiends to rout.

For Rama and the people's sake, For thine own good my counsel take, Nor seek, O King, with fond delay, The parting of thy son to stay."

CANTO XXIV

THE SPELLS

Vasishtha thus was speaking still: The monarch, of his own free will, Bade with quick zeal and joyful cheer Rama and Lakshman hasten near.

Mother and sire in loving care Sped their dear son with rite and prayer; Vasishtha blessed him ere he went, O'er his loved head the father bent-- And then to Kusik's son resigned Rama with Lakshman close behind.

Standing by Visvamitra's side, The youthful hero, lotus-eyed, The Wind-G.o.d saw, and sent a breeze Whose sweet pure touch just waved the trees.

There fell from heaven a flowery rain, And with the song and dance the strain Of sh.e.l.l and tambour sweetly blent As forth the son of Raghu went.

The hermit led: behind him came The bow-armed Rama, dear to fame, Whose locks were like the raven's wing:-- Then Lakshman, closely following.

The G.o.ds and Indra, filled with joy, Looked down upon the royal boy, And much they longed the death to see Of their ten-headed enemy.

Rama and Lakshman paced behind That hermit of the lofty mind, As the young Asvins, heavenly pair, Follow Lord Indra through the air.

On arm and hand the guard they wore, Quiver and bow and sword they bore; Two fire-born G.o.ds of War seemed they, He, Siva's self who led the way.

Upon fair Sarju's southern sh.o.r.e They now had walked a league or more, When thus the sage in accents mild To Rama said: "Beloved child, This l.u.s.tral water duly touch: My counsel will avail thee much.

Forget not all the words I say, Nor let the occasion slip away.

Lo, with two spells I thee invest, The mighty and the mightiest.

O'er thee fatigue shall ne'er prevail, Nor age nor change thy limbs a.s.sail.

Thee powers of darkness ne'er shall smite In tranquil sleep or wild delight.

No one is there in all the land Thine equal for the vigorous hand.

Thou, when thy lips p.r.o.nounce the spell, Shalt have no peer in heaven or h.e.l.l.

None in the world with thee shall vie, O sinless one, in apt reply-- In fortune, knowledge, wit, and tact, Wisdom to plan and skill to act.

This double science take, and gain Glory that shall for aye remain.

Wisdom and judgment spring from each Of these fair spells whose use I teach.

Hunger and thirst unknown to thee, High in the worlds thy rank shall be.

For these two spells with might endued, Are the Great Father's heavenly brood, And thee, O Chief, may fitly grace, Thou glory of Kakutstha's race.

Virtues which none can match are thine, Lord, from thy birth, of gifts divine-- And now these spells of might shall cast Fresh radiance o'er the gifts thou hast."

Then Rama duly touched the wave, Raised suppliant hands, bowed low his head, And took the spells the hermit gave, Whose soul on contemplation fed.

From him whose might these gifts enhanced A brighter beam of glory glanced:-- So shines in all his autumn blaze The Day-G.o.d of the thousand rays.

The hermit's wants those youths supplied, As pupils used to holy guide.

And then the night in sweet content On Sarju's pleasant bank they spent.

CANTO XXV

THE HERMITAGE OF LOVE

Soon as appeared the morning light Up rose the mighty anchorite, And thus to youthful Rama said, Who lay upon his leafy bed:-- "High fate is hers who calls thee son: Arise, 'tis break of day; Rise, Chief, and let those rites be done Due at the morning's ray."

At that great sage's high behest Up sprang the princely pair, To bathing rites themselves addressed, And breathed the holiest prayer.

Their morning task completed, they To Visvamitra came, That store of holy works, to pay The worship saints may claim.

Then to the hallowed spot they went Along fair Sarju's side Where mix her waters confluent With three-pathed Ganga's tide.

There was a sacred hermitage Where saints devout of mind Their lives through many a lengthened age To penance had resigned.

That pure abode the princes eyed With unrestrained delight, And thus unto the saint they cried, Rejoicing at the sight:-- "Whose is that hermitage we see?

Who makes his dwelling there?

Full of desire to hear are we: O Saint, the truth declare."

The hermit, smiling, made reply To the two boys' request:-- "Hear, Rama, who in days gone by This calm retreat possessed-- Kandarpa in apparent form, (Called Kama by the wise,) Dared Uma's new-wed lord to storm And make the G.o.d his prize.

'Gainst Sthanu's self, on rites austere And vows intent, they say, His bold rash hand he dared to rear, Though Sthanu cried, Away!

But the G.o.d's eye with scornful glare Fell terrible on him, Dissolved the shape that was so fair And burnt up every limb.

Since the great G.o.d's terrific rage Destroyed his form and frame, Kama in each succeeding age Has borne Ananga's name.

So, where his lovely form decayed, This land is Anga styled:-- Sacred to him of old this shade, And hermits undefiled.

Here Scripture-talking elders sway Each sense with firm control, And penance-rites have washed away All sin from every soul.

One night, fair boy, we here will spend, A pure stream on each hand, And with to-morrow's light will bend Our steps to yonder strand.

Here let us bathe, and free from stain To that pure grove repair, Sacred to Kama, and remain One night in comfort there."

With penance' far-discerning eye The saintly men beheld Their coming, and with transport high Each holy bosom swelled.

To Kusik's son the gift they gave That honored guest should greet-- Water they brought his feet to lave, And showed him honor meet.

Rama and Lakshman next obtained In due degree their share-- Then with sweet talk the guests remained, And charmed each listener there.

The evening prayers were duly said With voices calm and low:-- Then on the ground each laid his head And slept till morning's glow.