SECTION LIII.
Hearing those words of his, the high-souled ten-necked one spoke unto his brother a speech consonant to season and place,—"Properly hast thou spoken,—to slay a messenger is improper. But let him be punished with any chastisement save slaying. Certainly the tail is a darling ornament to a monkey. Therefore let his tail be set on fire anon; and this having been consumed, let him go away. Then shall his best friends and kindred and acquaintances see him crest-fallen, with his person deformed." And the lord of Rākshasas ordered,—"With his tail in flames, let this one be taken all round Lankā containing terraces." Hearing his words, the Rākshasas, cruel through wrath, cover up his (Hanumān's) tail with worn pieces of cotton cloth. Thereat, even as fire in a forest increaseth on getting dry fuel, the mighty monkey grew in dimensions on his tail being wrapped up. And having soaked (the cloth) in oil, they set fire to it. Thereat with his soul overpowered with rage and hatred, and his countenance like the risen sun, he lashed them with his flaming tail. And those—rangers of the night—those Rākshasas—old and young and females—again bringing that foremost of monkeys, grew exceedingly glad. And that hero (being bound), entertained a purpose in harmony with the season. "Albeit bound, the Rākshasas cannot forsooth cope with me. Snapping these bonds, I shall, darting up, again slaughter these. Although agreeably to the mandate of their master these wicked-minded ones have bound me, yet have they not been able to clear scores with me. I can slay all these Rākshasas in battle; but I suffer this (maltreatment) for not marring the (pure delight) Rāma shall derive from my deed.[409] I shall once more range around Lankā. Let this be so. At night I could not satisfactorily examine the fortifications.[410] For certain, by me is to be beheld Lankā when night hath departed. Let them bind me anew. The Rākshasas pain me by setting fire to my tail; but my mind doth not tire." Then the Rākshasas, rejoicing greatly, went off, taking that mighty monkey endowed with strength, an elephant (in prowess) among monkeys. And blowing conchs and trumpets, and bruiting it abroad by various actions,[411] those Rākshasas of cruel deeds took (Hanumān) about the city (of Lankā). And led by those Rākshasas, that subduer of enemies, Hanumān, experienced delight, and going about the mighty metropolis of the Rākshasas, the redoubted monkey surveyed variegated cars, enclosed court-yards, well-ordered terraces, streets thronged with edifices, crossings, by-ways, and the interiors of dwellings. And on terraces and highways the Rākshasas proclaim the monkey, saying,—"This is a spy." On Hanumān's tail being in flames, Rākshasis of frightful eyes related unto that exalted lady[412] tidings of this great mishap. "O Sitā, the copper-faced monkey with whom thou hadst held talk, is being led around with his tail flaming.' Hearing these cruel words, like unto loss of life, Vaidehi, burning in grief, approached the Fire. And wishing for the welfare of the mighty monkey, that large-eyed lady with an intent mind began to pray unto that bearer of sacrificial offerings,—"If I have served my lord, if I bear a character, if I have ascetic merit, if I have been the wife of one alone, then prove thou cool unto Hanumān." Thereat, as if communicating the welfare of the monkey unto that one having eyes like those of a young deer, the Fire flamed up,—and Hanumān's sire, albeit furnished with fire and a tail, blew ice cold before that worshipful one, breathing health (unto Hanumān). On his tail flaming, the monkey reflected,—"This fire is flaming. Why doth it not then burn me all over? I see it of exceeding brightness, yet it paineth me not. (On the contrary), at the end of my tail it seemeth like a mass of ice. Or this is clearly due to Rāma's power, even like the wonder (that I witnessed) while bounding over the main—the mountain under the lord of streams.[413] If the Ocean and the intelligent Maināka could show such regard for Rāma, what may not the Fire do (for him?) Fire doth not burn me for Sitā's (absolute) goodness, for Rāghava's prowess, and for (his) friendship with my sire." Then the elephantine monkey again reflected for a while,—"Why should one like me suffer one's self to be bound by vile Rākshasas? Therefore it is meet that I should, displaying my prowess, avenge (this wrong)." Thereat that vehement and mighty monkey snapped his bonds, and furiously springing into the sky, the terrible monkey uttered a shout. And then the graceful son of the Wind-god arrived at the gate of the city resembling a hill, where Rakshas there were none. And after having attained the magnitude of a mountain, anon that self-controlled one diminished himself and cast off his bonds. And having freed himself, the graceful one again became mountain-like; and eying around, he saw a bolt standing against the gate. And that mighty-armed one, the Wind-god's son, taking up that bolt of burnished iron, again slaughtered the guards. And having slain the warders, that one of terrific prowess crowned with a luminous wreath forged from his flaming tail, and appearing like the sun garlanded with glory, once again cast his eyes over Lankā.