With warriors huge as clouds and hills,
And burning with vindictive hate
Will thunder soon at Lanká's gate.
Yield or oppose him: choose between
Thy safety and the Maithil queen.”
He ceased: the tyrant's eyeballs blazed
With fury as his voice he raised:
“No, if the dwellers of the sky,
Gandharvas, fiends assail me, I
Will keep the Maithil lady still,