SECTION CXII.
Beholding Rāvana slain by the high-souled Rāghava Rākshasees, stricken with grief, issued out of the inner appartments. Stricken with grief and with dishevelled hairs they rolled in the dust albeit prevented again and again like unto cows separated from their calves. And coming out by the northern gate along with the Rākshasas, entering the dreadful arena of battle and searching their slain lord the she-demons cried piteously—"O lord, O husband, O our all" and moved along the battle field soaked in blood and filled with headless corpses. With eyes full of tears and overwhelmed with the grief of their husband they began to move about like she-elephants without the lord of their herd. Thereupon they beheld there on the earth the huge-bodied and the highly powerful and effulgent Rāvana slain like red collyrium. And beholding their lord lying down on the battle-field they all fell on his body like creepers torn assunder. Some wept embracing him respectfully—some holding his feet and some placing themselves around his neck. And some taking up his hand rolled on the ground and some were beside themselves (with grief) beholding the slain (Rāvana’s) countenance. And some placing her head on his lap, and beholding his face, wept, bathing it with tears like a lotus enveloped with snow. Seeing their husband Rāvana thus slain on the earth, they stricken with grief, bewailing again and again in sorrow, wept profusely. He by whom the king Vaisrabana was deprived of his flower car, who terrified the high-souled Gandharbas, ascetics and the celestials in battle field, who did not know of any fear from the Asuras, celestials and the Pannagas, hath now been overpowered by a man. He, whom the celestials, the Dānavas and the Rakshas could not slay, hath been slain in conflict by a man walking on foot. He, who was incapable of being killed by the celestials, Yakshas and Asuras, hath met with death like one devoid of prowess at the hands of a mortal". Speaking in this wise, the she-demons, over-powered with sorrow, wept and bewailed again and again (saying),—"Not hearing (the counsels) of thy friends, always pointing out thy welfare, thou didst bring Sitā for thy destruction as well as that of the Rākshasas. Although thy brother Bibhishana addressed thee with words pregnant with thy welfare—thou, for thy own destruction, out of thy misgivings, didst excite his anger and hast (now) seen (the result thereof). Hadst thou returned Sitā the daughter of the king of Mithilā to Rāma, this mighty and dreadful disaster, destroying the very root, would not have befallen us. Rāma’s desire would have been encompassed—his friends would have been successful (through Bibhishana)—we would not been widowed and our enemies would not have got their desires fulfilled. By thee, Sitā was kept by force in captivity in a ruthless manner, and the Rākshasas, ourselves and thyself—all three equally have been slain. O foremost of the Rākshasas, forsooth this is not thy own folly—it is Accident that uniteth all things and it is Accident again that bringeth about destruction. O thou of huge arms—the destruction of the monkeys and the Rākshasas as well as that of thyself hath been brought about by Accident. When the course of accident is about to bring about result—wealth, desire, prowess or command—nothing is capable of with-standing it". Thus wept piteously the wives of the lord of Rākshasas like unto so many she-elephants—rendered poorly, stricken with grief and with tears in their eyes.