The son of Raghu heard, consoled,
The wondrous tale Hanumán told;
And, as his joyous hope grew high,
In friendly words he made reply:
‘Behold a mighty task achieved.
Which never heart but his conceived.
Who else across the sea can spring,
Save Váyu 2b and the Feathered King? 3b
Who, pass the portals strong and high.
Which Nágas, 4b Gods, and fiends defy,
Where Rávan’s hosts their station keep,—
And come uninjured o’er the deep?
By such a deed the Wind-God’s son
Good service to the king has done,
And saved from ruin and disgrace
Lakshman and me and Raghu’s race.
Well has he planned and bravely fought.
And with due care my lady sought.
But of the sea I sadly think,
And the sweet hopes that cheered me sink.
How can we cross the leagues of foam
That keep us from the giant’s home?
What can the Vánar legions more
Than muster on the ocean shore?’
He ceased: and King Sugríva tried
To calm his grief, and thus replied:
‘Be to thy nobler nature true,
Nor let despair thy soul subdue.
This cloud of causeless woe dispel,
For all as yet has prospered well,
And we have traced thy queen, and know
The dwelling of our Rákshas foe.
Arise, consult: thy task must be
To cast a bridge athwart the sea,
The city of our foe to reach
That crowns the mountain by the beach;
[ p. 428 ]
And when our feet that isle shall tread,
Rejoice and deem thy foeman dead.
The sea unbridged, his walls defy
Both fiends and children of the sky,
Though at the fierce battalions’ head
Lord Indra’s self the onset led.
Yea, victory is thine before
The long bridge touch the farther shore,
So fleet and fierce and strong are these
Who limb them as their fancies please.
Away with grief and sad surmise
That mar the noblest enterprise,
And with their weak suspicion blight
The sage’s plan, the hero’s might.
Come, this degenerate weakness spurn,
And bid thy dauntless heart return,
For each fair hope by grief is crossed
When those we love are dead or lost.
Arise, O best of those who know,
Arm for the giant’s overthrow.
None in the triple world I see
Who in the fight may equal thee;
None who before thy face may stand
And brave the bow that arms thy hand,
Trust to these mighty Vánars: they
With full success thy trust will pay,
When thou shalt reach the robber’s hold,
And loving arms round Sítá fold.’
He ceased: and Raghu’s son gave heed,
Attentive to his prudent rede:
Then turned again, with hope inspired,
To Hanumán, and thus inquired:
‘Light were the task for thee, I ween,
To bridge the sea that gleams between
The mainland and the island shore.
Or dry the deep and guide as o’er.
Fain would I learn from thee whose feet
Have trod the stones of every street,
Of fenced Lanká’s towers and forts,
And walls and moats and guarded ports,
And castles where the giants dwell,
And battlemented citadel.
O Váyu’s son, describe it all,
With palace, fort, and gate, and wall.’
He ceased: and, skilled in arts that guide
The eloquent, the chief replied:
‘Vast is the city, gay and strong,
Where elephants unnumbered throng,
And countless hosts of Rákshas breed
Stand ready by the car and steed,
Four massive gates, securely barred,
All entrance to the city guard,
With murderous engines fixt to throw
Bolt, arrow, rock to check the foe,
And many a mace with iron head
That strikes at once a hundred dead.
Her golden ramparts wide and high
With massy strength the foe defy,
Where inner walls their rich inlay
Of coral, turkis, pearl display.
Her circling moats are broad and deep,
Where ravening monsters dart and leap.
By four great piers each moat is spanned
Where lines of deadly engines stand.
In sleepless watch at every gate
Unnumbered hosts of giants wait,
And masters of each weapon, rear
The threatening pike and sword and spear.
My fury hurled those ramparts down,
Filled up the moats that gird the town,
The piers and portals overturned,
And stately Lanká spoiled and burned,
Howe’er we Vánars force our way
O’er the wide seat of Varun’s 1 sway,
Be sure that city of the foe
Is doomed to sudden overthrow,
Nay, why so vast an army lead?
Brave Angad, Dwivid good at need,
Fierce Mainda, Panas famed in fight,
And Níla’s skill and Nala’s might,
And Jámbaván the strong and wise,
Will dare the easy enterprise.
Assailed by these shall Lanká fall
With gate and rampart, tower and wall.
Command the gathering, chief: and they
In happy hour will haste away.’
He ceased; and spurred by warlike pride
The impetuous son of Raghu cried:
‘Soon shall mine arm with wrathful joy
That city of the foe destroy.
Now, chieftain, now collect the host,
And onward to the southern coast!
The sun in his meridian tower
Gives glory to the Vánar power.
The demon lord who stole my queen
By timely flight his life may screen.
She, when she knows her lord is near,
Will cling to hope and banish fear,
Saved like a dying wretch who sips
The drink of Gods with fevered lips.
Arise, thy troops to battle lead:
All happy omens counsel speed.
The Lord of Stars in favouring skies
Bodes glory to our enterprise.
This arm shall slay the fiend; and she.
My consort, shall again be free.
[ p. 429 ]
Mine upward-throbbing eye foreshows
The longed-for triumph o’er my foes.
Far in the van be Níla’s post,
To scan the pathway for the host,
And let thy bravest and thy best,
A hundred thousand, wait his hest.
Go forth, O warrior Níla, lead
The legions on through wood and mead
Where pleasant waters cool the ground,
And honey, flowers, and fruit abound,
Go, and with timely care prevent
The Rákshas foeman’s dark intent.
With watchful troops each valley guard
Ere brooks and fruits and roots be marred
And search each glen and leafy shade
For hostile troops in ambuscade.
But let the weaklings stay behind:
For heroes is our task designed.
Let thousands of the Vánar breed
The vanguard of the armies lead:
Fierce and terrific must it be
As billows of the stormy sea.
There be the hill-huge Gaja’s place,
And Gavaya’s, strongest of his race,
And, like the bull that leads the herd,
Gaváksha’s, by no fears deterred
Let Rishabh, matchless in the might
Of warlike arms, protect our right,
And Gandhamádan next in rank
Defend and guide the other flank.
I, like the God who rules the sky
Borne on Airávat [1] mounted high
On stout Hanúmán’s back will ride,
The central host to cheer and guide.
Fierce as the God who rules below,
On Angad’s back let Lakshman show
Like him who wealth to mortals shares, [2]
The lord whom Sárvabhauma [3] bears.
The bold Sushen’s impetuous might,
And Vegadars’í’s piercing sight,
And Jámbaván whom bears revere,
Illustrious three, shall guard the rear.’
He ceased, the royal Vánar heard,
And swift, obedient to his word,
Sprang forth in numbers none might tell
From mountain, care, and bosky dell,
From rocky ledge and breezy height,
Fierce Vánars burning for the fight.
And Ráma’s course was southward bent
Amid the mighty armament.
On, joyous, pressed in close array
The hosts who owned Sugríva’s sway,
With nimble feet, with rapid bound
Exploring, ere they passed, the ground,
While from ten myriad throats rang out
The challenge and the battle shout.
On roots and honeycomb they fed,
And clusters from the boughs o’erhead,
Or from the ground the tall trees tore
Rich with the flowery load they bore.
Some carried comrades, wild with mirth,
Then cast their riders to the earth,
Who swiftly to their feet arose
And overthrew their laughing foes.
While still rang out the general cry,
‘King Rávan and his fiends shall die,’
Still on, exulting in the pride
Of conscious strength, the Vánars hied,
And gazed where noble Sahya, best
of mountains, raised each towering crest.
They looked on lake and streamlet, where
The lotus bloom was bright and fair,
Nor marched—for Ráma’s hest they feared
Where town or haunt of men appeared.
Still onward, fearful as the waves
Of Ocean when he roars and raves,
Led by their eager chieftains, went
The Vánars’ countless armament.
Each captain, like a noble steed
Urged by the lash to double speed.
Pressed onward, filled with zeal and pride,
By Ráma’s and his brother’s side,
Who high above the Vánar throng
On mighty backs were borne along,
Like the great Lords of Day and Night
Seized by eclipsing planets might.
Then Lakshman radiant as the morn,
On Angad’s shoulders high upborne.
With sweet consoling words that woke
New ardour, to his brother spoke:
‘Soon shalt thou turn, thy queen regained
And impious Rávan’s life-blood drained,
In happiness and high renown
To dear Ayodhyá’s happy town.
I see around exceeding fair
All omens of the earth and air.
Auspicious breezes sweet and low
To greet the Vánar army blow,
And softly to my listening ear
Come the glad cries of bird and deer.
Bright is the sky around us, bright
Without a cloud the Lord of Light,
And S’ukra [4] with propitious love
Looks on thee from his throne above.
The pole-star and the Sainted Seven [5]
Shine brightly in the northern heaven,
And great Tris’anku, [6] glorious king,
[ p. 430 ]
Ikshváku’s son from whom we spring,
Beams in unclouded glory near
His holy priest [7] whom all revere.
Undimmed the two Vis’ákhás [8] shine,
The strength and glory of our line,
And Nairrit’s [9] influence that aids
Our Rákshas foemen faints and fades.
The running brooks are fresh and fair,
The boughs their ripening clusters bear,
And scented breezes gently sway
The leaflet of the tender spray.
See, with a glory half divine
The Vánars’ ordered legions shine,
Bright as the Gods’ exultant train
Who saw the demon Tárak slain.
O let thine eyes these signs behold,
And bid thy heart be glad and bold.’
The Vánar squadrons densely spread
O’er all the country onward sped,
While rising from the rapid beat
Of bears’ and monkeys’ hastening feet
Dust hid the earth with thickest veil,
And made the struggling sunbeams pale.
Now where Mahendra’s peaks arise
Came Ráma of the lotus eyes
And the long arm’s resistless might,
And clomb the mountain’s wood-crowned height.
Thence Das’aratha’s son beheld
Where billowy Ocean rose and swelled.
Past Malaya’s peaks and Sahya’s chain
The Vánar legions reached the main,
And stood in many a marshalled band
On loud-resounding Ocean’s strand.
To the fair wood that fringed the tide
Came Das’aratha’s son, and cried:
‘At length, my lord Sugríva, we
Have reached King Várun’s realm the sea,
And one great thought, still-vexing, how
To cross the flood, awaits us now.
The broad deep ocean, that denies
A passage, stretched before us lies.
Then let us halt and plan the while
How best to storm the giant’s isle.’
He ceased: Sugríva on the coast
By trees o’ershadowed stayed the host,
That seemed in glittering lines to be
The bright waves of a second sea.
Then from the shore the captains gazed
On billows which the breezes raised
To fury, as they dashed in foam
O’er Várun’s realm, the Asurs’ home: 1b
The sea that laughed with foam, and danced
With waves whereon the sunbeams glanced:
Where, when the light began to fade,
Huge crocodiles and monsters played;
And, when the moon went up the sky,
The troubled billows rose on high
From the wild watery world whereon
A thousand moons reflected shone:
Where awful serpents swam and showed
Their fiery crests which flashed and glowed,
Illumining the depths of hell,
The prison where the demons dwell.
The eye, bewildered, sought in vain
The bounding line of sky and main:
Alike in shade, alike in glow
Were sky above and sea below.
There wave-like clouds by clouds were chased,
Here cloud-like billows roared and raced:
Then shone the stars, and many a gem
That lit the waters answered them.
They saw the great-souled Ocean stirred
To frenzy by the winds, and heard,
Loud as ten thousand drums, the roar
Of wild waves dashing on the shore.
They saw him mounting to defy
With deafening voice the troubled sky.
And the deep bed beneath him swell
In fury as the billows fell.
There on the coast in long array
The Vánars’ marshalled legions lay,
Where Níla’s care had ordered well
The watch of guard and sentinel,
And Mainda moved from post to post
With Dwivid to protect the host.
Then Ráma stood by Lakshman’s side.
And mastered by his sorrow cried:
‘My brother dear, the heart’s distress,
As days wear on, grows less and less.
But my deep-seated grief, alas,
Grows fiercer as the seasons pass.
Though for my queen my spirit longs,
And broods indignant o’er my wrongs,
Still wilder is my grief to know
That her young life is passed in woe.
Breathe, gentle gale, O breathe where she
Lies prisoned, and then breathe on me,
[ p. 431 ]
And, though my love I may not meet,
Thy kiss shall be divinely sweet.
Ah, by the giant’s shape appalled,
On her dear lord for help she called,
Still in mine ears the sad cry rings
And tears my heart with poison stings.
Through the long daylight and the gloom
Of night wild thoughts of her consume
My spirit, and my love supplies
The torturing flame which never dies.
Leave me, my brother; I will sleep
Couched on the bosom of the deep.
For the cold wave may bring me peace
And bid the fire of passion cease.
One only thought my stay must be,
That earth, one earth, holds her and me,
To hear, to know my darling lives
Some life-supporting comfort gives,
As streams from distant fountains run
O’er meadows parching in the sun.
Ah when, my foeman at my feet,
Shall I my queen, my glory, meet,
The blossom of her dear face raise
And on her eyes enraptured gaze,
Press her soft lips to mine again,
And drink a balm to banish pain!
Alas, alas! where lies she now,
My darling of the lovely brow?
On the cold earth, no help at hand,
Forlorn amid the Rákshas band,
King Janak’s child still calls on me,
Her lord and love, to set her free.
But soon in glory will she rise
A crescent moon in autumn skies,
And those dark rovers of the night.
Like scattered clouds shall turn in flight.’
But when the giant king surveyed
His glorious town in ruin laid,
And each dire sign of victory won
By Hanumán the Wind-God’s son,
He vailed his angry eyes oppressed
By shame, and thus his lords addressed:
‘The Vánar spy has passed the gate
Of Lanká long inviolate,
Eluded watch and ward, and seen
With his bold eyes the captive queen.
My royal roof with flames is red,
The bravest of my lords are dead,
And the fierce Vánar in his hate
Has left our city desolate.
Now ponder well the work that lies
Before us, ponder and advise.
With deep-observing judgment scan
The peril, and mature a plan.
From counsel, sages say, the root,
Springs victory, most glorious fruit.
First ranks the king, when woe impends
Who seeks the counsel of his friends,
Of kinsmen ever faithful found,
Or those whose hopes with his are bound,
Then with their aid his strength applies,
And triumphs in his enterprise.
Next ranks the prince who plans alone,
No counsel seeks to aid his own,
Weighs loss and gain and wrong and right,
And seeks success with earnest might.
Unwisest he who spurns delays,
Who counts no cost, no peril weighs,
Speeds to his aim, defying fate,
And risks his all, precipitate.
Thus too in counsel sages find
A best, a worst, a middle kind.
When gathered counsellors explore
The way by light of holy lore,
And all from first to last agree,
Is the best counsel of the three.
Next, if debate first waxes high,
And each his chosen plan would try
Till all agree at last, we deem
This counsel second in esteem.
Worst of the three is this, when each
Assails with taunt his fellow’s speech;
When all debate, and no consent
Concludes the angry argument.
Consult then, lords; my task shall be
To crown with act your wise decree.
With thousands of his wild allies
The vengeful Ráma hither hies;
With unresisted might and speed
Across the flood his troops will lead,
Or for the Vánar host will drain
The channels of the conquered main.’
He ceased: they scorned, with blinded eyes,
The foeman and his bold allies,
Raised reverent bands with one accord,
And thus made answer to their lord:
‘Why yield thee, King, to causeless fear?
A mighty host with sword and spear
And mace and axe and pike and lance
Waits but thy signal to advance.
Art thou not he who slew of old
The Serpent-Gods, and stormed their hold;
Scaled Mount Kailása and o’erthrew
Kuvera [10] and his Yaksha crew,
[ p. 432 ]
Compelling S’iva’s haughty friend
Beneath a mightier arm to bend?
Didst thou not bring from realms afar
The marvel of the magic car,
When they who served Kuvera fell
Crushed in their mountain citadel?
Attracted by thy matchless fame
To thee, a suppliant, Maya came,
The lord of every Dánav band,
And won thee with his daughter’s hand.
Thy arm in hell itself was felt,
Where Vásuki [11] and S’ankha dwelt,
And they and Takshak, overthrown,
Were forced thy conquering might to own.
The Gods in vain their blessing gave
To heroes bravest of the brave,
Who strove a year and, sorely pressed,
Their victor’s peerless might confessed.
In vain their magic arts they tried,
In vain thy matchless arm defied.
King Varun’s sons with fourfold force,
Cars, elephants, and foot, and horse,
But for a while thy power withstood,
And, conquered, mourned their hardihood.
Thou hast encountered, face to face,
King Yama [12] with his murdering mace.
Fierce as the wild tempestuous aea,
What terror had his wrath for thee,
Though death in every threatening form,
And woe and torment, urged the storm?
Thine arm a glorious victory won
O’er the dread king who pities none;
And the three worlds, from terror freed,
In joyful wonder praised thy deed.
The tribe of Warriors, strong and dread
As Indra’s self, o’er earth had spread;
As giant trees that towering stand
ln mountain glens, they filled the land.
Can Raghu’s son encounter foes
Fierce, numerous, and strong as those?
Yet, trained in war and practised well,
O’ermatched by thee, they fought and fell,
Stay in thy royal home, nor care
The battle and the toil to share;
But let the easy fight be won
By Indrajit [13] thy matchless son.
All, all shall die, if thou permit,
Slain by the hand of Indrajit.’
Dark as a cloud of autumn, dread
Prahasta joined his palms and said:
‘Gandharvas, Gods, the hosts who dwell
In heaven, in air, in earth, in hell,
Have yielded to thy might, and how
Shall two weak men oppose thee now?
Hanúmán came, a foe disguised,
And mocked us heedless and surprised,
Or never had he lived to flee
And boast that he has fought with me.
Command, O King, and this right hand
Shall sweep the Vánars from the land,
And hill and dale, to Ocean’s shore,
Shall know the death-doomed race no more.
But let my care the means devise
To guard thy city from surprise.’
Then Durmukh cried, of Rákshas race:
‘Too long we brook the dire disgrace.
He gave our city to the flames,
He trod the chambers of thy dames.
Ne’er shall so weak and vile a thing
Unpunished brave the giants’ king.
Now shall this single arm attack
And drive the daring Vánars back,
Till to the winds of heaven they flee,
Or seek the depths of earth and sea.’
Then, brandishing the mace he bore,
Whose horrid spikes were stained with gore,
While fury made his eyeballs red,
Impetuous Vajradanshtra said:
‘Why waste a thought on one so vile
As Hanúmán the Vánar, while
Sugriva, Lakshman, yet remain,
And Ráma mightier still, unslain?
This mace to-day shall crush the three,
And all the host will turn and flee.
Listen, and I will speak: incline,
O King, to hear these words of mine,
For the deep plan that I propose
Will swiftly rid thee of thy foes.
Let thousands of thy host assume
The forms of men in youthful bloom,
In war’s magnificent array
Draw near to Raghu’s son, and say:
‘Thy younger brother Bharat sends
This army, and thy cause befriends.’
Then let our legions hasten near
With bow and mace and sword and spear,
And on the Vánar army rain
Our steel and stone till all be slain.
If Raghu’s sons will fain believe,
Entangled in the net we weave,
The penalty they both must pay,
And lose their forfeit lives to-day.’
[ p. 433 ]
Then with his warrior soul on fire,
Nikumbha spoke in burning ire:
'I, only I, will take the field,
And Ragha’s son his life shall yield.
Within these walls, O Chiefs, abide,
Nor part ye from our monarch’s side.’
A score of warriors [14] forward sprang,
And loud the clashing iron rang
Of mace and axe and spear and sword,
As thus they spake unto their lord:
‘Their king Sugríva will we slay,
And Raghu’s sons, ere close of day,
And strike the wretch Hanúmán down,
The spoiler of our golden town.’
But sage Vibhíshan strove to calm
The chieftains’ fury; palm to palm
He joined in lowly reverence, pressed
Before them, and the throng addressed: [15]
‘Dismiss the hope of conquering one
So stern and strong as Raghu’s son.
In due control each sense he keeps
With constant care that never sleeps.
Whose daring heart has e’er conceived
The exploit Hanumán achieved,
Across the fearful sea to spring,
The tributary rivers’ king?
O Rákshas lords, in time be wise,
Nor Ráma’s matchless power despise.
And say, what evil had the son
Of Raghu to our monarch done,
Who stole the dame he loved so well
And keeps her in his citadel;
If Kharu in his foolish pride
Encountered Ráma, fought, and died,
May not the meanest love his life
And guard it in the deadly strife?
The Maithil dame, O Rákshas King,
Sore peril to thy realm will bring.
Restore her while there yet is time,
Nor let us perish for thy crime.
O, let the Maithil lady go
Ere the avenger bend his bow
To ruin with his arrowy showers
Our Lanká with her gates and towers.
Let Janak’s child again be free
Ere the wild Vánars cross the sea,
In their resistless might assail
Our city and her ramparts scale.
Ah, I conjure thee by the ties
0f brotherhood, be just and wise.
In all my thoughts thy good I seek,
And thus my prudent counsel speak.
Let captive Sitá be restored
Ere, fierce as autumn’s sun, her lord
Send his keen arrows from the string
To drink the life-blood of our king.
This fury from thy soul dismiss,
The bane of duty, peace, and bliss.
Seek duty’s path and walk therein,
And joy and endless glory win.
Restore the captive, ere we feel
The piercing point of Ráma’s steel.
O spare thy city, spare the lives
Of us, our friends, our sons and wives.’
Thus spake Vibhíshan wise and brave:
The Rákshas king no answer gave,
But bade his lords the council close,
And sought his chamber for repose.
Soon as the light of morning broke,
Vibhíshan from his slumber woke,
And, duty guiding every thought,
The palace of his brother sought.
Vast as a towering hill that shows
His peaks afar, that palace rose.
Here stood within the monarch’s gate
Sage nobles skilful in debate.
There strayed in glittering raiment through
The courts his royal retinue,
Where in wild measure rose and fell
The music of the drum and shell,
And talk grew loud, and many a dame
Of fairest feature went and came
Through doors a marvel to behold,
With pearl inlaid on burning gold:
Therein Gandharvas or the fleet
Lords of the storm might joy to meet.
He passed within the wondrous pile,
Chief glory of the giants’ isle:
Thus, ere his fiery course be done,
An autumn cloud admits the sun.
[ p. 434 ]
He heard auspicious voices raise
With loud accord the note of praise,
And sages, deep in Scripture, sing
Each glorious triumph of the king.
He saw the priests in order stand,
Curd, oil, in every sacred hand;
And by them flowers were laid and grain,
Due offerings to the holy train.
Vibhíshan to the monarch bowed,
Raised on a throne above the crowd:
Then, skilled in arts of soft address,
He raised his voice the king to bless,
And sate him on a seat where he
Full in his brother’s sight should be.
The chieftain there, while none could hear,
Spoke his true speech for Rávan’s ear,
And to his words of wisdom lent
The force of weightiest argument:
'O brother, hear! since Ráma’s queen
A captive in thy house has been,
Disastrous omens day by day
Have struck our souls with wild dismay.
No longer still and strong and clear
The flames of sacrifice appear,
But, restless with the frequent spark,
Neath clouds of smoke grow faint and dark.
Our ministering priests turn pale
To see their wonted offerings fail,
And ants and serpents creep and crawl
Within the consecrated hall. [16]
Dried are the udders of our cows,
Our elephants have juiceless brows, [17]
Nor can the sweetest pasture stay
The charger’s long unquiet neigh.
Big tears from mules and camels flow
Whose staring coats their trouble show,
Nor can the leech’s art restore
Their health and vigour as before.
Rapacious birds are fierce and bold:
Not single hunters as of old,
In banded troops they chase the prey,
Or gathering on our temples stay.
Through twilight hours with shriek and howl
Around the city jackals prowl,
And wolves and foul hyaenas wait
Athirst for blood at every gate.
One sole atonement still may cure
These evils, and our weal assure.
Restore the Maithil dame, and win
An easy pardon for thy sin.’
The Rákshas monarch heard, and moved
To sudden wrath his speech reproved:
'No danger, brother, can I see:
The Maithil dame I will not free.
Though all the Gods for Ráma fight,
He yields to my superior might.’
Thus the tremendous king who broke
The ranks of heavenly warriors spoke,
And, sternly purposed to resist,
His brother from the hall dismissed.
429:1 Indra’s elephant. ↩︎
429:2 Kuvera, God of wealth. ↩︎
429:3 Kuvera’s elephant. ↩︎
429:1b The planet Venus, or its regent who is regarded as the son of Bhrigu and preceptor of the Daitvas. ↩︎
429:2b The seven rishis or saints who form the constellation of the Great Bear. ↩︎
429:3b Tris’anku was raised to the skies to form a constellation in the southern hemisphere. The story in told in Book I. Canto LX. ↩︎
430:1 The sage Vis’vámitra, who performed for Tris’anku the great sacrifice which raised him to the heavens. ↩︎
430:2 One of the lunar asterisms containing four or originally two stars under the regency of a dual divinity Indrágni, Indra and Agni. ↩︎
430:3 The lunar asterism Múla, belonging to the Rákshases. ↩︎
431:1 The God of Riches, brother and enemy of Rávan and first possessor of Pushpak the flying car. ↩︎
432:1 King of the Serpents. S’ankha and Takshak are two of the eight Serpent Chiefs. ↩︎
432:2 The God of Death, the Pluto of the Hindus. ↩︎
432:3 Literally Indra’s conqueror, so called from his victory over that God. ↩︎
433:1 Their names are Nikumbha, Rabhasa, Súryas’atru, Suptaghna, Yajnakopa, Mahápárava, Mahodara, Agniketu, Ras’miketu, Durdharsha, Indrasatru, Prahasta, Virupáksha, Vajradanshtra, Dhúmráksha, Durmukha, Mahábala. ↩︎
433:2 Similarly Antenor urges the restoration of Helen:
'Let Sparta’s treasures be this hour restored,
And Argive Helen own her ancient lord.
As this advice ye practise or reject,
So hope success, or dread the dire effect,’
POPE’S Homer’s Iliad, Book VII. ↩︎
434:1 The Agnisálá or room where the sacrificial fire was kept. ↩︎
434:2 The exudation of a fragrant fluid from the male elephant’s temples, especially at certain seasons, is frequently spoken of in Sanskrit poetry. It is said to deceive and attract the bees, and is regarded as a sign of health and masculine vigour. ↩︎