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Book Iii. Canto Xxxviii. M'ar'icha's Speech

Canto Xxxviii.: Mrcha'S Speech.

\"Once in my strength and vigour's pride

I roamed this earth from side to side,

And towering like a mountain's crest,

A thousand Ngas' 1b might possessed.

Like some vast sable cloud I showed:

My golden armlets flashed and glowed.

A crown I wore, an axe I swayed,

And all I met were sore afraid.

I roved where Dandak wood is spread;

On flesh of slaughtered saints I fed.

Then Vis'vmitra, sage revered.

Holy of heart, my fury feared.

To Das'aratha's court he sped

And went before the king and said: 2b

'With me, my lord, thy Rma send

On holy days his aid to lend.

Mrcha fills my soul with dread

And keeps me sore disquieted.'

The monarch heard the saint's request

And thus the glorious sage addressed:

'My boy as yet in arms untrained

The age of twelve has scarce attained.

But I myself a host will lead

To guard thee in the hour of need.

My host with fourfold troops complete,

The rover of the night shall meet,

And I, O best of saints, will kill

Thy foeman and thy prayer fulfil.'

The king vouchsafed his willing aid:

The saint again this answer made:

'By Rma's might, and his alone,

Can this great fiend be overthrown.

I know in days of yore the Blest

Thy saving help in fight confessed.

Still of thy famous deeds they tell

In heaven above, in earth, and hell,

A mighty host obeys thy hest:

Here let it still, I pray thee, rest.

Thy glorious son, though yet a boy,

Will in the fight that fiend destroy.

Rma alone with me shall go:

Be happv, victor of the foe.'

He spoke: the monarch gave assent,

And Rma to the hermit lent.

So to his woodland home in joy

Went Vis'vmitra with the boy.

With ready bow the champion stood

To guard the rites in Dandak wood.

With glorious eyes, most bright to view,

Beardless as yet and dark of hue;

A single robe his only wear,

His temples veiled with waving hair,

p. 274

Around his neck a chain of gold,

He grasped the bow he loved to bold;

And the young hero's presence made

A glory in the forest shade.

Thus Rma with his beauteous mien,

Like the young rising moon was seen,

I, like a cloud which tempest brings,

My arms adorned with golden rings,

Proud of the boon which lent me might,

Approached where dwelt the anchorite.

But Rma saw me venturing nigh,

Raising my murderous axe on high;

He saw, and fearless of the foe,

Strung with calm hand his trusty bow

By pride of conscious strength beguiled,

I scorned him as a feeble child,

And rushed with an impetuous bound

On Vis'vmitra's holy ground.

A keen swift shaft he pointed well,

The foeman's rage to check and quell,

And hurled a hundred leagues away

Deep in the ocean waves I lay.

He would not kill, but, nobly brave,

My forfeit life he chose to save.

So there I lay with wandering sense

Dazed by that arrow's violence.

Long in the sea I lay: at length

Slowly returned my sense and strength,

And rising from my watery bed

To Lank's town again I sped.

Thus was I spared, but all my band

Fell slain by Rma's conquering hand,--

A boy, untrained in warrior skill,

Of iron arm and dauntless will.

If thou with Rma still, in spite

Of warning and of prayer, wilt fight,

I see terrific woes impend,

And dire defeat thy days will end.

Thy giants all will feel the blow

And share the fatal overthrow,

Who love the taste of joy and play,

The banquet and the festal day.

Thine eyes will see destruction take

Thy Lank, lost for Sit's sake,

And stately pile and palace fall

With terrace, dome, and jewelled wall.

The good will die: the crime of kings

Destruction on the people brings:

The sinless die, as in the lake

The fish must perish with the snake.

The prostrate giants thou wilt see

Slain for this folly wrought by thee,

Their bodies bright with precious scent

And sheen of heavenly ornament;

Or so the remnant of thy train

Seek refuge far, when help is vain

And with their wives, or widowed, fly

To every quarter of the sky;

Thy mournful eyes, where'er they turn,

Will see thy stately city burn,

When royal homes with fire are red,

And arrowy nets around are spread.

A sin that tops all sins in shame

Is outrage to another's dame,

A thousand wives thy palace fill,

And countless beauties wait thy will.

O rest contented with thine own,

Nor let thy race be overthrown.

If thou, O King, hast still delight

In rank and wealth and power and might,

In noble wives, in troops of friends,

In all that royal state attends,

I warn thee, cast not all away,

Nor challenge Rma to the fray.

If deaf to every friendly prayer,

Thou still wilt seek the strife,

And from the side of Rma tear

His lovely Maithil wife,

Soon will thy life and empire end

Destroyed by Rma's bow,

And thou, with kith and kin and friend,

To Yama'a realm must go.'

Footnotes

273:1b Serpent-gods.

273:
2b See p. 33.

title page page number latex| feigned outrage based on false narrative
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