She, by his awful curse possessed, And mad with rage that fills her breast, Has on this land her fury dealt Where once the saint Agastya dwelt.
Go, Rama, smite this monster dead, The wicked plague, of power so dread, And further by this deed of thine The good of Brahmans and of kine.
Thy hand alone can overthrow, In all the worlds, this impious foe.
Nor let compa.s.sion lead thy mind To shrink from blood of womankind; A monarch"s son must ever count The people"s welfare paramount, And whether pain or joy he deal Dare all things for his subjects" weal; Yea, if the deed bring praise or guilt, If life be saved or blood be spilt: Such, through all time, should be the care Of those a kingdom"s weight who bear.
Slay, Rama, slay this impious fiend, For by no law her life is screened.
So Manthara, as bards have told, Virochan"s child, was slain of old By Indra, when in furious hate She longed the earth to devastate.
So Kavya"s mother, Bhrigu"s wife, Who loved her husband as her life, When Indra"s throne she sought to gain, By Vish?u"s hand of yore was slain.
By these and high-souled kings beside, Struck down, have lawless women died."
Canto XXVIII. The Death Of Tadaka.
Thus spoke the saint. Each vigorous word The n.o.ble monarch"s offspring heard, And, reverent hands together laid, His answer to the hermit made: "My sire and mother bade me aye Thy word, O mighty Saint, obey So will I, O most glorious, kill This Ta?aka who joys in ill, For such my sire"s, and such thy will.
To aid with mine avenging hand The Brahmans, kine, and all the land, Obedient, heart and soul, I stand."
Thus spoke the tamer of the foe, And by the middle grasped his bow.
Strongly he drew the sounding string That made the distant welkin ring.
Scared by the mighty clang the deer That roamed the forest shook with fear, And Ta?aka the echo heard, And rose in haste from slumber stirred.
In wild amaze, her soul aflame With fury toward the spot she came.
When that foul shape of evil mien And stature vast as e"er was seen The wrathful son of Raghu eyed, He thus unto his brother cried: "Her dreadful shape, O Lakshma?, see, A form to shudder at and flee.
The hideous monster"s very view Would cleave a timid heart in two.
Behold the demon hard to smite, Defended by her magic might.
My hand shall stay her course to-day, And shear her nose and ears away.
No heart have I her life to take: I spare it for her s.e.x"s sake.
My will is but, with minished force, To check her in her evil course."
While thus he spoke, by rage impelled Roaring as she came nigh, The fiend her course at Rama held With huge arms tossed on high.
Her, rushing on, the seer a.s.sailed With a loud cry of hate; And thus the sons of Raghu hailed: "Fight, and be fortunate."
Then from the earth a horrid cloud Of dust the demon raised, And for awhile in darkling shroud Wrapt Raghu"s sons amazed.
Then calling on her magic power The fearful fight to wage, She smote him with a stony shower, Till Rama burned with rage.
Then pouring forth his arrowy rain That stony flood to stay, With winged darts, as she charged amain, He sh.o.r.e her hands away.
As Ta?aka still thundered near Thus maimed by Rama"s blows, Lakshma? in fury severed sheer The monster"s ears and nose.
a.s.suming by her magic skill A fresh and fresh disguise, She tried a thousand shapes at will, Then vanished from their eyes.
When Gadhi"s son of high renown Still saw the stony rain pour down Upon each princely warrior"s head, With words of wisdom thus he said: "Enough of mercy, Rama, lest This sinful evil-working pest, Disturber of each holy rite, Repair by magic arts her might.
Without delay the fiend should die, For, see, the twilight hour is nigh.
And at the joints of night and day Such giant foes are hard to slay."
Then Rama, skilful to direct His arrow to the sound, With shafts the mighty demon checked Who rained her stones around.
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 spouting 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 honoured 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 favour show.
Invest him with the power which naught 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 it 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 honour 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 Ta?aka"s wild wood, content.
And the grove shone that happy day, Freed from the curse that on it lay, Like Chaitraratha(164) 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.(165) First, son of Raghu, shall be thine The arm of Vengeance, strong, divine: The arm of Fate, the arm of Right, And Vish?u"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 Varu? 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 Vish?u 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 bards" 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 men 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.(166)
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."