Than Garuḍa's and the tempest are.”
Then Sítá spake: her former woe
Still left her accents faint and low:
“I know thy steps, which naught can stay,
Can urge through heaven and hell their way.
Then if thy love and changeless will
Would serve the helpless captive still,
Go forth and learn each plot and guile
Planned by the lord of Lanká's isle.
With magic art like maddening wine