SECTION XLII.
Then on account of the cries of birds and the sounds of breaking trees, all the denizons of Lankā were seized with trepidation in consequence of fright. And agitated with fear, birds and beasts hurried (on all sides); and omen-boding evil unto the Rākshasas, began to appear (everywhere). And grim-visaged Rākshasis, awaking from their sleep, saw that wood devastated, and that heroic mighty monkey. And observing them, that mighty-armed and powerful monkey endowed with immense strength, magnified his dimensions, capable of striking terror into the Rakshasas. And beholding that exceedingly strong monkey resembling a mountain, the Rākshasis asked Janaka's daughter, saying,—"Who is this? And whence, and wherefore, hath he come here? And why did he carry on converse with thee? Tell us this, thou of expansive eyes. O lucky one, entertain no fear. And, O thou having eyes with dark outer corners, what is the talk that this one hath held with thee?" Thereat, the chaste Sitā, having all her parts perfect, answered,—"What is my power to read Rākshasas capable of wearing forms at will? Ye know who he is and what he doeth. Serpents, without doubt, know the way of serpents. And, furthermore, I am very much frightened,— nor know I who that one is. I take him to be a Rākshasa,— who hath come here through his capacity to put on any shape." Hearing Vaidehi's words, the Rākshasis swiftly took to their heels. Some remained,—and some departed to inform Rāvana of the matter. And before Rāvana, the Raksbasis of deformed visages informed him of the hideous and dreadful monkey. "O king, in the heart of the açoka wood there is a monkey of a terrific body, who, possessed of immeasurable might, stayeth, after having carried on a conversation with Jānaki. Nor, albeit questioned by us many a time and oft, doth Janaka's daughter, Sitā, having the eyes of a deer, intend to tell us who the monkey is. He may be the emissary of Vasava, or of Vaipravana; or he may have been sent by Rāma himself from eagerness to get at the whereabouts of Sitā. And he it is that, wearing a wonderful form, hath destroyed thy charming arbour of the interior, filled with beasts of various kinds.—And quarter there is none which hath not been destroyed by him; and only that place where the exalted Jānaki is, remained uninjured by him,—whether for preserving Jānaki, or from fatigue—it doth not appear. But what is his fatigue? She it is that hath been preserved by him. And that overgrown Sinçapā tree, affluent with elegant foliage, under which Sitā herself hath (always rested), hath been spared by him. It behoveth thee to order sharp chastisement to be inflicted on that one of a fierce form, who, having carried on converse with Sitā, hath laid thy wood waste. Who, O Sovereign of the Rākshasas,that hath not his life severed from him,—converseth with Sitā, who hath captivated thy heart?" Hearing the speeches of the Rākshasis, Rāvana, lord of Rākshasas, with his eyes rolling in rage, flamed up like the fire of a funeral pyre. And as fall drops of lighted oil from a flaming lamp,fell drops of tears from the eyes of the enraged Rāvana. And that highly energetic one ordered his heroic servants, resembling himself, to punish Hanumān. And from that mansion speedily issued eighty thousand of those retainers, carrying in their hands maces and mallets[370],—having huge bellies, and large teeth, of dreadful forms, and possessed of unwieldy strength,—all eager to engage in the conflict and take Hanumān. And having come near that monkey staying at the main entrance, those swelling spirits rushed on, even as insects rush into a flame. And equipped with variegated maces, and bludgeons, and golden angadas,[371] and arrows resembling the Sun, they approached that foremost of monkeys. And accoutred in maces, axes, and javelins, and bearing bearded darts and lances in their hands, they suddeuly surrounded Hanumān and remained before him. And the graceful and energetic Hanumān also, resembling a hill, flourishing his tail over the ground, sent up tremendous roars. And attaining mighty proportions, Hanumān, son unto the Wind-god, brandished his tail, filling Lankā with sounds. And at the sounds of his flourishing, as well as with those resounding ones set up by himself, birds began to drop down from the sky. And he loudly proclaimed,—"Victory to the exceedingly strong Rāma and to the mighty Lakshmana! And victory unto king Sugriva, protected of Rāghava! I am the servant of the Sovereign of Kerala, Rāma of untiring deeds,— (I am) Hanumān, the destroyer of hostile hosts, offspring of the Wind-god. And a thousand Rāvanas cannot cope with me in conflict, when I shall hurl crags and trees by thousands. In the very presence of all the Rakshas, shall I, having desolated the city of Lankā and paid my reverence to Maithili, go away, my end being compassed." They were struck with affright at his roars; and they beheld Hanumān elevated as an evening cloud. And now knowing for certain that the monkey had been despatched by his master, the Rākshasas commenced assailing him with various kinds of dire arms.[372] Environed on all sides by those heroes, that exceedingly powerful one, staying by the main entrance, took up a terrific bolt. And taking that bolt, like Vinatā's offspring handling a darting serpent, he slew those rangers of the night. And grasping (the bolt), the Wind-god's son began to range the welkin and destroy (the Rākshasas), like the thousand-eyed (deity) slaughtering Daityas with his thunder-bolt. And having slain those Rākshasas, who were the retainers of Rāvana, the heroic offspring of the Wind-god—foremost of heroes—desirous of fight, stood at the gate. Then certain Rākshasas, getting off from the field in fear, informed Rāvana of the destruction of all his servants. Hearing that a mighty host of the Rākshasas had been slain, the king, with his eyes whirling in ire, ordered Prahasta's son of incomparable prowess, and invincible in battle.