Would fall consumed, a shapeless heap,
And from each ruined home would rise
A Rákshas widow's groans and cries.”
Canto XXVII. Trijatá's Dream.
Their threats unfeared, their counsel spurned,
The demons' breasts with fury burned.
Some sought the giant king to bear
The tale of Sítá's fixt despair.
With threats and taunts renewed the rest