SECTION XXX.
And the powerful Hanumān, heard from the beginning to the end (the bewailings) of Sitā, the story of Trijata's dream and the threats of the Rākshasees. And beholding the worshipful damsel, living in the forest of Asoka, like unto a celestial damsel in the garden of Nandana, the monkey entered in a maze of anxious thoughts. "At length my watchful eyes have seen her, whom have been seeking in vain, the thousands and millions of the monkeys in all directions and quarters. Truly have I seen her to-day, engaged as I have been as a spy to estimate the strength of the ememy and am ranging secretly everywhere. I have seen minutely the city of the Rākshasas, and the strength of Rāvana, the lord of Rākshasasas. It now remains to console the spouse of Rāma of incomparable power, and kind unto all, who panteth for her lord. I shall console this damsel, having the countenance of the full moon, who had never seen grief before, and who shall not soon reach its end. And if I go away without soothing this chaste lady, who is almost senseless with grief, I shall be blamed of neglect of duty. And if I go away, the royal daughter, the famed Jānaki, finding no means of safety, shall, for certain, renounce her life. She is worthy of being consoled like unto the great armed (Rāma) having the countenance of the full-moon and anxious to behold Sitā. It is not proper to speak before the Rākshasas— What shall I do then? I am in very great difficulty. If I do not console her at this latter end of the night, surely shall she renounce her life. How shall I answer Rāma, without consoling Sitā of comely stature, when he will ask me "What message from my Sitā?" And if I speedily repair hence without any information regarding Sitā, surely shall Kākuthstha scorch me lifeless with the fire of his angry eyes. And if I urge my lord the king (Biveeshana) to bring his hosts here for Rāma, in vain shall be his toil[341]. And seizing the occasion when she shall be free from her demonaic guards, I shall console her in her dire distress. And a puny monkey as I am, I shall speak in Sanskrit[342] which men delight to use. And if I speak Sanskrit like a Brahmana, Sitā shall be terrified considering me Rāvana. Must I therefore use the language of a common man[343] or else I shall not be able to console the dame of a blameless person. And beholding my monkey shape and hearing my human language she might be afraid again, terrified as she had been before by the band of the Rākshasas. And considering me Rāvana wearing shapes at will, that large-eyed and high-minded dame, shall cry piteously for help. And Sitā, making a sudden noise, those terrible Rākshasees resembling Death himself and armed with various weapons, shall at once arrive there. And thereupon casting their looks all around and finding me out, those highly powerful and grim-visaged demons shall try to kill or catch me. And beholding me leap from branch to branch and trunk to trunk of big trees they shall be greatly alarmed. And espying my appearance while ranging in the forest, those Rākshasees greatly terrified, shall fill the wood with their wild shouts. And then they shall call (to their assistance) all those Rākshasees engaged in guarding the abode of the lord of the Rākshasas. And they, greatly agitated, shall with vehemence arrive here, armed with darts, arrows, scimitars and various other weapons. And being surrounded by them on all sides, if I do kill that host of demons, tired, I shall not be able to bound over the main. And if that host of skilled demons, succeed in making me a captive, I too shall be in their hands and Sitā shall remain ignorant of my object. Or the Rākshasas, pernicious as they are, shall kill the daughter of Janaka, and there shall the great work of Rāma and Sugriva, be spoiled. And Jānaki liveth in this secret place, girt by the ocean, guarded on all sides by the Rākshasas, difficult of being got at and having all avenues to it shut up. If I am killed or captured by Rākshasas in battle, I do not find any who can help Rāma in his enterprise. Myself killed, I do not find any monkey who can leap a hundred leagues across the sea. I am capable of destroying thousands of Rākshasas, but I shall not then be able to get at the other shore of the great ocean. Victory or defeat is uncertain in a battle—I do not (therefore) like to engage in such an uncertain (act). What wise man merges certainty in uncertainty? It is a great sin in me (I own) to talk with Sitā—But she will die if I do not talk with her. Works, almost accomplished, when entrusted to an inconsiderate emissary, are generally spoiled, out of season and out of place, like unto darkness driven by the appearance of the sun. All those works, which are generally taken in hand after duly deliberating over their propriety and impropriety, are generally spoiled by those emissaries who are proud of their learning. What shall I do, by which my work is not injured, I am not blamed of foolishness and my crossing over the main doth not become fruitless? What shall I do so that Sitā might listen to me without being terrified?" Thinking over this, the intelligent Hanumān arrived at a conclusion. "I shall not disturb her, speaking (all on a sudden) about Rāma of unwearied actions, dear unto her and to whom, she is firmly attached. Uttering the name of Rāma, the foremost of the Ikshawkus, and of subdued soul and lauding his piety and fame in sweet accents, I shall so manage that Sitā might hear and believe them." Beholding the spouse of that high-souled lord of the earth and engaging in this train of thoughts, Hanumān, stationed on a branch of the tree, spoke the following sweet words.