SECTION LX.
As Rāma went on, his feet failed him, his left eye began to beat, and a trembling came over his frame. Seeing again and again all these signs, he continually kept on asking (Lakshmana), "Is it well with Sitā?" Eager to behold Sitā, he proceeded fast; but finding the abode empty, he was filled with anxiety. And proceeding with swiftness, throwing about his limbs, Raghu's son began to survey all around the hut. He then found it empty of Sitā, like unto a tank in evil plight and bereft of lotuses—during the winter. And seeing the cottage empty, with its trees as if sorrowing, and its flowers faded, and its beasts and birds sunk in gloom,— shorn of grace, worn out, forsaken by the sylvan deities, strewn with deer-skins and Kuça, and twists of Kāsa, he wept again and again—"Hath the timid one been carried off, or is she dead, or hath any one eaten her up, or hath she vanished (from the earth), or hath she gone to the wood, or hath she gone to cull flowers and fruits, or hath she gone to the pool for procuring water, or hath she repaired to the river? Although he searched his beloved one carefully, yet he failed to find her out in the wood-land. And that graceful one with his eyes reddened with grief, seemed like a maniac. And he rushed from tree to tree, and bewailing being sunk in an occean of grief traversed all the rivers and mountains. "O Kadamba, hast thou seen where is that one fond of Kadamba groves? If knowest thou this do thou tell me of Sitā having an auspicious countenance. O Bilya, tell me pray, if thou hast seen her, wearing silken cloth, resembling cool leaves and having breast like unto Bilya fruits. Or, O Aryunā, she was very fond of thee, tell me if liveth that daughter of Janaka of slender frame. This Kakuva knoweth for certain about Maithilee having thighs like unto Kakuva. Yon stands beautifully that Banaspati being enveloped with creepers, flowers and leaves and filled with the hum of Vramaras. Surely doth this Tilaka know about her who was fond of her. O Asoka, who doth remove sorrows, do thou make good thy name by making me, who am exercised with grief, see instantly my beloved (spouse). O Tala, if thou hast any pity on me do thou tell me whether thou hast beheld that fair damsel having breast resembling ripe Tala fruits. Do thou tell me without fear, O Jāmbhu, if thou hast seen my dear one resembling in hue the river Jāmbhu. O Karnikar, thou appearest very beautiful with this blossoming flowers, tell me if thou hast seen my dear devoted wife who was fond of thee." Thus the highly famous Rāma asking about Sitā, nearing the various trees such as mangoe, Nipa, Mahasālā, Panaça, Kurava, Pomegranate, Vakula, Pumnaga, Sandal and Keta began to traverse the forest like a maniac. Again addressed he the diverse animals—"O deer, knowest thou for certain about Jānaki having the eyes of a doe; is she engaged in play with the does? O elephant, methinks thou dost know about the daughter of Janaka having thighs resembling thy trunk; pray tell me if thou hast beheld her. O tiger, fearlessly do thou relate unto me if thou hast seen my beloved Maithilee, having a countenance resembling Moon. O dear! O thou having eyes like unto lotuses! why dost thou fly away? Surely have I seen thee. Why dost thou not address me hiding thyself behind the tree? Wait, wait, O thou fair damsel, thou hast no compassion for me! Never hadst thou mock me before in this way! Why dost thou neglect me now? O exquisitely fair damsel, truly have I found thee out from this thy yellow silken cloth. I have seen thee flying away. Stand if thou hast any love for me. Or, O thou having a sweet smile, thou art not she; truly thou hast been killed or else thou wouldst not have neglected me at this time of dire affliction. True it is that she hath been devoured in my absence by the Rākshasas living on flesh having torn into pieces her limbs. Truly hath her face, resembling the full-moon, having beautiful teeth a fine nose and white Kundalas, become of pale countenance being brought under the possession of the Rākshasas. Her neck had the hue of sandal and was adorned with necklace—that beautiful tender neck was eaten up by the Rākshasas, my beloved wife wailing. Her arms were tender like leaves and adorned with various ornaments; truly have the Rākshasas eaten them up, shaken as they were, by throwing them here and there. Alas! did I leave her alone only to be devoured by the Rākshasas? And she hath been eaten up like one weak and helpless albeit she has many friends. O Lakshmana, O thou of mighty-arms, hast thou seen where my dear wife is? O dear! O Sitā! where hast thou gone?" Bewailing again and again in this strain Rāma began to range the forest. Sometimes leaping, sometimes walking in an uncertain direction, again and again he looked like one void of sense. And again intent on searching Sitā he furiously engaged in traversing the rivers, mountains, fountains and the woods. He could not wait paitently anywhere. Entering a vast forest he searched every nook and corner for Maithilee; his desire was not satisfied and he again engaged with great labour in the finding out of his dear spouse.