She, sore impeded and beset By Rama and his arrowy net-- Though skilled in guile and magic lore, Rushed on the brothers with a roar.

Deformed, terrific, murderous, dread, Swift as the levin on she sped-- Like cloudy pile in autumn's sky, Lifting her two vast arms on high: When Rama smote her with a dart Shaped like a crescent, to the heart.

Sore wounded by the shaft that came With lightning speed and surest aim, Blood spurting from her mouth and side, She fell upon the earth and died.

Soon as the Lord who rules the sky Saw the dread monster lifeless lie, He called aloud, Well done! well done!

And the G.o.ds honored Raghu's son.

Standing in heaven the Thousand-eyed, With all the Immortals, joying cried:-- "Lift up thine eyes, O Saint, and see The G.o.ds and Indra nigh to thee.

This deed of Rama's boundless might Has filled our bosoms with delight.

Now, for our will would have it so, To Raghu's son some favor show.

Invest him with the power which nought But penance gains, and holy thought.

Those heavenly arms on him bestow-- To thee entrusted long ago By great Krisasva best of kings, Son of the Lord of living things.

More fit recipient none can be Than he who joys in following thee; And for our sakes the monarch's seed Has yet to do a mighty deed."

He spoke; and all the heavenly train Rejoicing sought their homes again, While honor to the saint they paid-- Then came the evening's twilight shade.

The best of hermits overjoyed To know the monstrous fiend destroyed, His lips on Rama's forehead pressed, And thus the conquering chief addressed:-- "O Rama, gracious to the sight, Here will we pa.s.s the present night, And with the morrow's earliest ray Bend to my hermitage our way."

The son of Dasaratha heard, Delighted, Visvamitra's word-- And as he bade, that night he spent In Tadaka's wild wood, content.

And the grove shone that happy day, Freed from the curse that on it lay-- Like Chaitraratha fair and gay.

CANTO XXIX

THE CELESTIAL ARMS

That night they slept and took their rest; And then the mighty saint addressed, With pleasant smile and accents mild These words to Raghu's princely child:-- "Well pleased am I. High fate be thine, Thou scion of a royal line.

Now will I, for I love thee so, All heavenly arms on thee bestow.

Victor with these, whoe'er oppose, Thy hand shall conquer all thy foes-- Though G.o.ds and spirits of the air, Serpents and fiends, the conflict dare.

I'll give thee as a pledge of love The mystic arms they use above, For worthy thou to have revealed The weapons I have learnt to wield.

First, son of Raghu, shall be thine The arm of Vengeance, strong, divine: The arm of Fate, the arm of Right, And Vishnu's arm of awful might:-- That, before which no foe can stand, The thunderbolt of Indra's hand; And Siva's trident, sharp and dread, And that dire weapon, Brahma's Head.

And two fair clubs, O royal child, One Charmer and one Pointed styled-- With flame of lambent fire aglow, On thee, O Chieftain, I bestow.

And Fate's dread net and Justice' noose That none may conquer, for thy use:-- And the great cord, renowned of old, Which Varun ever loves to hold.

Take these two thunderbolts, which I Have got for thee, the Moist and Dry.

Here Siva's dart to thee I yield, And that which Vishnu wont to wield.

I give to thee the arm of Fire, Desired by all and named the Spire.

To thee I grant the Wind-G.o.d's dart, Named Crusher, O thou pure of heart.

This arm, the Horse's Head, accept, And this, the Curlew's Bill yclept, And these two spears, the best e'er flew, Named the Invincible and True.

And arms of fiends I make thine own, Skull-wreath and mace that smashes bone.

And Joyous, which the spirits bear, Great weapon of the sons of air.

Brave offspring of the best of lords, I give thee now the Gem of swords-- And offer next, thine hand to arm, The heavenly bard's beloved charm.

Now with two arms I thee invest Of never-ending Sleep and Rest-- With weapons of the Sun and Rain, And those that dry and burn amain; And strong Desire with conquering touch, The dart that Kama prizes much.

I give the arm of shadowy powers That bleeding flesh of man devours.

I give the arms the G.o.d of Gold And giant fiends exult to hold.

This smites the foe in battle-strife, And takes his fortune, strength, and life.

I give the arms called False and True, And great Illusion give I too; The hero's arm called Strong and Bright That spoils the foeman's strength in fight.

I give thee as a priceless boon The Dew, the weapon of the Moon, And add the weapon, deftly planned, That strengthens Visvakarma's hand.

The Mortal dart whose point is chill, And Slaughter, ever sure to kill; All these and other arms, for thou Art very dear, I give thee now.

Receive these weapons from my hand, Son of the n.o.blest in the land."

Facing the east, the glorious saint Pure from all spot of earthly taint, To Rama, with delighted mind, That n.o.ble host of spells consigned.

He taught the arms, whose lore is won Hardly by G.o.ds, to Raghu's son.

He muttered low the spell whose call Summons those arms and rules them all-- And each, in visible form and frame, Before the monarch's son they came.

They stood and spoke in reverent guise To Rama with exulting cries:-- "O n.o.blest child of Raghu, see, Thy ministers and thralls are we."

With joyful heart and eager hand Rama received the wondrous band, And thus with words of welcome cried:-- "Aye present to my will abide"-- Then hasted to the saint to pay Due reverence, and pursued his way.

CANTO x.x.x

THE MYSTERIOUS POWERS

Pure, with glad cheer and joyful breast, Of those mysterious arms possessed, Rama, now pa.s.sing on his way, Thus to the saint began to say:-- "Lord of these mighty weapons, I Can scarce be harmed by G.o.ds on high; Now, best of saints, I long to gain The powers that can these arms restrain."

Thus spoke the prince. The sage austere, True to his vows, from evil clear, Called forth the names of those great charms Whose powers restrain the deadly arms.

"Receive thou True and Truly-famed, And Bold and Fleet: the weapons named Warder and Progress, swift of pace, Averted-head and Drooping-face; The Seen, and that which Secret flies-- The weapon of the thousand eyes; Ten-headed, and the Hundred-faced, Star-gazer and the Layer-waste; The Omen-bird, the Pure-from-spot, The pair that wake and slumber not; The Fiendish, that which shakes amain, The Strong-of-Hand, the Rich-in-Gain; The Guardian, and the Close-allied, The Gaper, Love, and Golden-side:-- O Raghu's son receive all these, Bright ones that wear what forms they please; Krisasva's mystic sons are they, And worthy thou their might to sway."

With joy the pride of Raghu's race Received the hermit's proffered grace-- Mysterious arms, to check and stay, Or smite the foeman in the fray.

Then, all with heavenly forms endued, Nigh came the wondrous mult.i.tude.

Celestial in their bright attire Some shone like coals of burning fire-- Some were like clouds of dusky smoke; And suppliant thus they sweetly spoke:-- "Thy thralls, O Rama, here we stand-- Command, we pray, thy faithful band."

"Depart," he cried, "where each may list, But when I call you to a.s.sist, Be present to my mind with speed, And aid me in the hour of need."

To Rama then they lowly bent, And round him in due reverence went-- To his command they answered, "Yea,"

And as they came so went away.

When thus the arms had homeward flown, With pleasant words and modest tone, E'en as he walked, the prince began To question thus the holy man:-- "What cloudlike wood is that which near The mountain's side I see appear?

O tell me, for I long to know: Its pleasant aspect charms me so.

Its glades are full of deer at play, And sweet birds sing on every spray.

Pa.s.sed is the hideous wild--I feel So sweet a tremor o'er me steal-- And hail with transport fresh and new A land that is so fair to view.

Then tell me all, thou holy Sage, And whose this pleasant hermitage In which those wicked ones delight To mar and kill each holy rite-- And with foul heart and evil deed Thy sacrifice, great Saint, impede.

To whom, O Sage, belongs this land In which thine altars ready stand?

'Tis mine to guard them, and to slay The giants who the rites would stay.

All this, O best of saints, I burn From thine own lips, my lord, to learn."

CANTO x.x.xI

THE PERFECT HERMITAGE

Thus spoke the prince of boundless might, And thus replied the anchorite:-- "Chief of the mighty arm, of yore Lord Vishnu, whom the G.o.ds adore For holy thought and rites austere, Of penance made his dwelling here.

This ancient wood was called of old Grove of the Dwarf, the mighty-souled-- And when perfection he attained The grove the name of Perfect gained.

Bali of yore, Virochan's son, Dominion over Indra won-- And when with power his proud heart swelled, O'er the three worlds his empire held.

When Bali then began a rite, The G.o.ds and Indra in affright Sought Vishnu in this place of rest, And thus with prayers the G.o.d addressed:-- 'Bali, Virochan's mighty son, His sacrifice has now begun: Of boundless wealth, that demon king Is bounteous to each living thing.

Though suppliants flock from every side The suit of none is e'er denied.

Whate'er, where'er, howe'er the call, He hears the suit and gives to all.

Now with thine own illusive art Perform, O Lord, the helper's part: a.s.sume a dwarfish form, and thus From fear and danger rescue us.'

Thus in their dread the Immortals sued The G.o.d, a dwarfish shape indued:-- Before Virochan's son he came, Three steps of land his only claim.

The boon obtained, in wondrous wise Lord Vishnu's form increased in size; Through all the worlds, tremendous, vast, G.o.d of the Triple Step, he pa.s.sed.

The whole broad earth from side to side He measured with one mighty stride-- Spanned with the next the firmament, And with the third through heaven he went.

Thus was the king of demons hurled By Vishnu to the nether world-- And thus the universe restored To Indra's rule, its ancient lord.

And now because the Immortal G.o.d This spot in dwarflike semblance trod, The grove has aye been loved by me For reverence of the devotee.