SECTION XLIX.
Hearing those words of Sitā the highly powerful Ten-necked one striking his hands together, increased his body too high. Thereupon, that one skilled in speech again spake unto Maithilee, "Methinks thou hast run mad. Hast thou not heard of my valour and prowess? Stationing myself in the welkin I can with my hands raise up the earth. I can drink up the waters of the ocean. And engaged in conflict I can destroy Death itself. With my sharpened shafts I can pierce the Sun and cut asunder the earth. Thou art mad with thy beauty. Do thou look upon me, who am capable of illusions." When he had spoken thus, his yellow eyes became blood-red with rage and assumed the semblance of flaming fire. Thereat Rāvana, the younger brother of the Lord of wealth, changing his placid countenance, instantly assumed his own terrible shape resembling that of Yama. Highly exercised with ire, that ranger of the night became of ten countenances and twenty arms; his eyes were bloody and he appeared beautiful like unto blue clouds, being dressed in gold-hued apparel. Leaving aside the semblance of a mendicant, that lord of Rākshasas, Rāvana, increasing in bulk, assumed his own shape. And wearing a blood-red cloth he stood there fixing his look upon that jewel of a damsel—Maithili. Thereupon Rāvana spake unto Maithili like unto the rays of the sun, having a head of black hair and wearing apparel and ornaments, saying, "O thou fine damsel, if thou dost wish to have a husband known all over the world, do thou surrender thyself unto me. I am a worthy husband (or thee. Do thou serve me for ever, thy praiseworthy husband. O fine lady, I shall never do what thou dost not like. Renouncing thy attachment for a man, do thou place thy love in me. O foolish girl, worthy of being adored by the learned, for what quality art thou attached unto Rāma of a limited life, who hath been deprived of his kingdom and hath his desire frustrated, and who of an evil intent, hath, at the words of his wife, renouncing his kingdom and kinsmen, been living in this forest—the abode of voracious animals." Speaking thus unto Maithili, sweet-speeched and worthy of being sweetly addressed, that highly wicked Rākshasa, Rāvana, being exercised with lust, approached towards Sitā and got hold of her, like unto Budha holding Rohini in the sky. With his left hand he held her, having eyes like unto lotus-petals, by the hair, and with his right hand got hold of her thighs. Seeing Rāvana of sharpened teeth, and mighty arms, resembling the summit of a mountain and like unto death itself, the deties of the forest became highly terrified and fled in different directions. Instantly appeared there the celestial car of Rāvana, decked in gold, drawn by asses and making a terrible sound. Thereupon, that one emmiting terrible accents, remonstrated with Vaidehi in harsh words and clasping her ascended the car. The virtuous Sitā, being thus caught by Rāvana,began to cry aloud, addressing Rāma, who had gone away to a distant forest. Rāvana, racked with lust, rose high up with her like unto the wife of a Pannaga, though she tried her best (to get rid of him), for she was not in the least attached unto him. Being thus carried away by the ethereal track by that Lord of Rākshasas, Sitā began to cry aloud, like one mad, distressed and of deranged senses. "Ah! mighty Lakshmana, ever ministering unto the satisfaction of thy superiors, dost thou not know that I have been stolen away by a Rākshasa assuming shapes at will? O Rāghava, for virtue hast thou renounced thy life, happiness and wealth,—dost thou not see that I have been carried away by one of mighty iniquity? O thou the subduer of foes,thou dost always control the rebellious,—why dost thou not punish such a vicious Rākshasa? The vicious do not instantaneously meet with the fruits of their actions; as for corn to ripen requires the assistance of time. For this iniquitous deed, which thou hast perpetrated, availing of the time and losing thy sense, thou shalt meet with a mighty disaster from Rāma, bringing about thy end. Ah! being the virtuous wife of the virtuous and far-famed Rāma, I have been stolen away. Now hath the desire of Kaikeyi and other relations been fulfilled. I invoke this Janasthāna and these flowery Karnikās to tell Rāma that Rāvana hath stolen away Sitā. I invoke thee, O Godavari, having swans and cranes sporting in thy stream, to tell Rāma that Rāvana hath stolen away Sitā. I salute and invoke the deities that live in this forest of many trees to tell my husband of my being stolen away (by Rāvana). I do seek the refuge of all deer, birds and other animals that live in this forest, and may they all communicate unto Rāma the news of his dear spouse being carried away, and tell him that Sitā, losing her control, hath been stolen away by Rāvana. Even if I am taken away by Yama, and if the mighty-armed Rāma is apprised of it, surely shall he bring me back by the display of his prowess." Racked with sorrow that one of expansive eyes, while thus bewailing in piteous accents, she espied Yatāyu, the king of vultures, seated on a tree. Thereat the daughter of Janaka, brought under the control of Rāvana and terrified, began to cry and utter those piteous words—"O worshipful Yatāyu, do thou see that this vicious lord of Rākshasas hath ruthlessly carried me away like one having no husband. Thou wilt not be able to withstand this mighty, wicked and cruel night-ranger wearing emblems of conquest and having a scimitar in his hand. Do thou relate unto Rāma and to Lakshmana everything about my being carried away from the beginning to the end.
SECTION L.
Hearing these words Yatāyu, who lay buried in a deep slumber, awoke and beheld both Rāvana and Jānaki. Thereat the lord of birds resting on the tree, having a big sharp beak like unto the summit of a hill, addressed these soft words unto Rāvana, "O brother Ten-necked one, I am conversant with Purānas, of truthful vows and abide by religion. It doth not behove thee to perpetrate such an iniquitous deed before me. I am Yātayu, the mighty lord of vultures. Daçaratha's son Rāma is the lord of all men like unto Mahendra and Varuna. He is ever engaged in the welfare of all men. This exquisitely beautiful and far-famed Sitā whom thou art about to steal away, is the married wife of that lord of men. And how dost thou thyself being a monarch and engaged in the royal office of maintaining subjects, carry away by stealth another's wife? O thou of mighty prowess, thou shouldst specially protect the wives of kings. Do thou therefore control thy base inclination of oppressing another's wife. A hero doth never perform what bringeth calumny upon himself. It becometh every individual to save another's wife from the touch of a second man like unto his own wife. O son of Paulastya, at the instance of the king mild subjects perform many an action conducing to virtue, wealth and desire, though not mentioned in the Sastras. The king is the virtue, the king is the desire and the king is the prime jewel of all subjects. Virtue, desire or sin—every thing ariseth from the king. O thou the best of Rākshasas, thou art vicious and unsteady; how hast thou come by rkhes like unto a sinner attaining to the abode of celestials? A vicious person can never relinquish his sinful habits—virtue doth never reside in the abodes of impious persons.
The mighty and the virtuous-souled Rāma hath committed nothing wrong in thy city or thy dominions. Why dost thou then commit wrong by him? Khara of Janasthāna is highly wicked and if Rāma of blameless actions hath killed him on Surpanakhā's account how is he to blame? Why dost thou then carry away the wife of that lord of men? Do thou soon leave off Vaidehi. Like unto Indra burning down Vitrasura, Rāma, looking with his terrible eyes like flaming fire, shall reduce thee to ashes. Dost thou not understand that thou hast tied with cloth a virulent serpent? Dost thou not see that thou hast placed around thy neck the noose of death? It is always proper to carry such a weight as doth not exhaust (him who carries); it is always proper to take such a food as doth not cause illness. Who engageth himself in such an action as doth not confer virtue, fame or glory, but bringeth about physical affliction only? O Rāvana, I am sixty thousand years old and have been administering regularly my ancestral kingdom. Old though I am, thou shalt not be able to carry away with safety Jānaki in my presence, young, accoutered in mails as thou art with bow and arrows in thy hands and ascending a car. As it is not easy to destroy, by the reasonings of Logic, Vedas and Sruties containing eternal and immutable truths, so thou shalt not be able to carry away Vaidehi by force before me. If thou art a hero do thou fight. Or do thou wait for a moment, O Rāvana, thou shalt also embrace the earth like unto Khara. Soon shall Rāma clad in bark destroy thee in the battle field, who hadst many a time and oft destroyed in conflict the celestials and Dānavas. These two princes Rāma and Lakshmana are at a distance, what shall I do now? O vile being, undoubtedly shalt thou, terrified, be destroyed by them. Myself drawing my breath thou shalt not be able to carry away this beloved queen of Rāma, the pure-natured Sitā having eyes resembling lotuses. It is my duty to do good unto the high-souled Rāma and Daçaratha even at the sacrifice of my life. Do thou stand, O Ten-necked one. Behold for a moment. O Rāvana, I shall throw thee headlong from this car, like unto a fruit from its stalk. O ranger of the night, even to my utmost might I will render thee hospitality in encounter.
SECTION LI.
While Yatāyu, the king of birds, spake this, Rāvana, the lord of Rākshasas, wearing pendants made of pure gold, having his eyes reddened with ire, darted towards him. Thereupon they began a terrible conflict in the welkin, like unto clouds driven by wind. There occured a mighty conflict between Yatāyu, the lord of vultures, and Rāvana, the lord of Rākshasas, like unto two Malyavān[57] hills supplied with wings. Thereat Rāvana began to shower continually terrible and sharpened pikes, iron arrows and Vikarnis upon the mighty lord of vultures. Yatāyu, the king of birds, began to withstand in conflict the arrows and weapons darted by Rāvana, and wounded Rāvana's person with his feet supplied with sharpened talons. Thereupon, to destroy his enemy, that mighty hero, the Ten-necked Rāvana, being exercised with ire, took up ten terrible arrows like unto the sceptre of Death, and stretching the bow to the full he shot those straight-coursing sharpened shafts at Yatāyu, the king of birds. Beholding Jānaki with tears In her eyes in that Rākshasa's car, Yatāyu, the king of birds, disregarding those arrows, darted towards Rāvana, and with his feet broke asunder his bow with the arrows, adorned with pearls and diamonds. Thereat Rāvana, almost beside himself with wrath, taking up another bow, began to shower arrows by hundreds and thousands. Being covered with those arrows, the lord of birds appeared like a bird lying in his nest. Pushing away these arrows by the wind of his wings, he again snapped that mighty bow with his feet, and with a stroke of his wings shattered Rāvana's flaming shield like unto burning fire. Thereupon, moving away with the wind of his wings Rāvana's blazing cuirass resembling flaming fire, Jatāyu in that conflict made away with his fleet-coursing asses having the faces of demons. Next crumbling into pieces with his impetus the mighty chariot of Rāvana, coursing at will, flaming like fire, having steps studded with jewels, and a wooden pole, and throwing down the umbrella and chowris like unto the full moon along with the Rākshasas engaged in carrying them,the effulgent and mighty lord of birds shattered the head of the charioteer with the strokes of his beak. Having his bow snapped and deprived of his car, horses and charioteer, Rāvana fell down to the earth, taking Vaidehi on his lap. Beholding Rāvana fallen on the ground and of broken conveyance, all creatures praised the king of vultures again and again and worshipped him.
Thereupon, finding the lord of birds worn out on account of his old age, Rāvana, highly encouraged, again rose high up in the welkin, taking Maithili with him. He had all his weapons broken in the conflict, and had but his dagger left to him. Beholding him proceed thus pleased, taking the daughter of Janaka on his lap,—all his weapons having been lost, with his sword alone left,—the mighty and powerful lord of vultures, Yatāyu, rose up and, darting towards Rāvana, resisted him and said,—"O Rāvana of feeble sense, it is for the destruction of the whole line of Rākshasas that thou carriest away this spouse of Rāma, having arrows like unto thunderbolts. Like one thirsty drinking water, thou dost address thyself to drinking poison along with thy friends, courtiers, four-fold forces, servants and relatives. Foolish persons unaware of the fruit of their actions, meet in a short time with their own destruction,—so shalt thou very soon meet with thy own end. Thou hast been bound up by the noose of Death; and, proceeding whither, shalt thou save thyself, like unto fish eating up baits with hooks for their own destruction? O Rāvana, it is beyond thy power to defeat the Kākutsthas. They shall not forgive thee for this thy encroachment upon their asylum. What hath been perpetrated by thee, coward, is blamed by all, and is the way taken recourse to by thieves and not by heroes. Do thou fight, O Rāvana, if thou art a hero, or wait for a moment and thou shalt lie down on the earth like unto thy brother Khara. Truly hast thou for thy own destruction engaged thyself in these impious acts, which are perpetrated by men on the eve of their death. What person doth that which leadeth solely into sin? Neither the lord of celestials nor the self-create Deity doth engage in such an action." Addressing these moral words, the mighty Yatāyu swooped on the back of that Ten-necked Rākshasa. Like unto the rider of a mad elephant, the lord of vultures began to tear Rāvana with his sharpened claws, and that one having for his weapons his beak, talons, and wings, began to rive Rāvana's back with his beak and claws, and to uproot his hair. Being thus aflicted again and again by the king of vultures, the Rākshasa shook, with his lips quivering in anger. Beside himself with anger, Rāvana, holding Jānaki fast by her left flank, struck Yatāyu with his palms. Yatāyu, the subduer of foes, bearing the strokes, tore into pieces his ten left arms with his beak. His arms cut off, instantly sprang up as many others, like unto serpents issuing out of ant-hills, being exercised with the pangs of poison. The mighty Ten-necked one, leaving aside Sitā, out of anger bore down Yatāyu with his fists and feet. Thereupon arose a mighty conflict between the lord of of vultures and the lord of Rākshasas of incomparable prowess. Yatāyu addressing himself to displaying his prowess for the benefit of Rāma, Rāvana taking out his dagger, cut off his two wings, two legs and two sides. The ranger of the night of cruel deeds having sundered his wings, the king of vultures approaching wellnigh the verge of death, fell down on the earth. Beholding him fallen on the grand with his person bathed in blood, Sitā. became exceedingly aggrieved and darted towards him like unto a friend. The lord of Lankā beheld Yatāyu, fallen on the ground, resembling sable clouds, having a yellow breast and of exceeding prowess,—like unto an extinguished forest-fire. Then Sitā the daughter of Janaka, having a moon-like countenance began lamenting, clasping with her hands Yatāyu, crushed and fallen on the ground by the vehemence of Rāvana's prowess.
SECTION LII.
Beholding the king of vultures slain by Rāvana, that one possessed of a face fair as the moon, striken with grief, broke out into lamentations, saying, "Throbbings of the eyes or other parts of the body, dreams, seeing birds or hearing their voices, are found to augur happiness or misery to men. And, O Rāma, although birds and beasts are scampering away before thee on my account, thou understandest not the mighty mishap that has befallen thee. O Rāma, this bird, who, moved by kindness, had come to rescue me, owing to my (ill) luck, lies slain on the ground. O Kākutstha, O Lakshmana, save me!" Thus did that best of females, afflicted with fear, bewail; and those near (her) heard her lamentations. Thereat, that lord of the Rākshasas, Rāvana, darted towards Vadehi, who, with a faded wreath for her ornament, was bewailing in forlorn guise. Exclaiming repeatedly, "Leave off!" "Leave off," the lord of the Rākshasas got at her, as she was clasping a mighty tree as if it were a creeper. And as she, bereft of the company of Rāma in the wilderness, was wailing, saying, "O Rāma," "O Rāma," that one resembling the Destroyer himself, with the view of compassing his own end, seized her by her hair. On Vaidehi being thus outraged, this entire world consisting of mobile and immobile objects, had its nature altered. A dense darkness enveloped (everything). And the air did not breathe there; and the sun grew dim. Espying with his divine vision that Sitā was overcome, that Deity, the graceful Great-father exclaimed, "Our work is accomplished." And seeing Sitā overpowered, the supreme saints inhabiting the Dandaka forest, concluding the destruction of Rāvana to be as good as accomplished without much ado, became at once delighted and aggrieved. As she went on weeping with "O Rāma," "O Lakshmana," Rāvana—lord of Rākshasas —taking her, coursed through the sky. And then the king's daughter hued like molten gold, clad in a yellow silken cloth, looked exceedingly beautiful like unto lightning. And on her yellow cloth streaming up, Rāvana looked surpassingly graceful like a hill aflame with fire. And coppery fragrant lotus-leaves belonging to the eminently auspicious Vaidehi showered upon Rāvana. And her gold-glowing silken cloth, flying in the air, appeared like clouds colored by the sunken sun. And her blameless countenance on Rāvana's lap in the sky did not appear beauteous without Rāma,—like a lotus without its stalk; it appeared like the moon risen tearing away dark clouds. And in the aerial regions her countenance on Rāvana's lap furnished with a fair forehead and graceful hair glowing like the interior of a lotus, without scars, graced with white, shining, stainless teeth, having excellent eyes,—lovely like the moon, having a shapely nose, a rubeous upper lip,—wearing the splendour of gold in the sky,—that captivating countenance of hers in consequence of her weeping, and of being stained with tears, as also owing to the violence it had undergone at the hands of the lord of Rākshasas—did not appear beautiful without Rāma; like the moon risen during the day. And furnished with the hue of gold, Mithilā's daughter beside the dark-bodied lord of the Rākshasas, looked like a golden girth round a sable elephant. And Janaka's daughter, yellow-hued like lotus, having the lustre of gold.—and adorned with shining ornaments, coming in contact with Rāvana, appeared like lightning embosomed among clouds. And in consequence of Vaidehi's ornaments sending sounds, the lord of Rākshasas resembled an entirely dark rumbling cloud. And as Sitā was being borne away, showers of blossoms, falling off from her head, were scattered all around on the earth beneath. And that blossomy shower all around, drawn up by the vehemence of the ten-headed Rāvana, again alighted beside him. And the showers of blossoms scattered around Vaiçravana's younger brother, looked like rows of burning stars round the foremost of mountains.[58] And the bangles studded with gems, loosened from Vaidehi's feet, fell on the earth, like the lightning circle.[59] Of hue like the light red of tender twigs, Vaidehi set off the dark-bodied lord of Rākshasas, as does a golden cover an elephant. Vaiçravana's younger brother carried away Sitā, who, like a mighty meteor, filled the heavens with her splendour. And like stars of exhausted religious merit dropping down from the sky, her fiery ornaments began to fall to the earth with sounds. And the chain of the splendour of the moon, removed from Vaidehi's breast, falling down, shone like the Gangā dropping from the sky. The trees filled with various fowls, with their tops waving because of the wind blowing on high and swaying them, seemed to say, "No fear," [unto Sitā.] And the pools with their lotuses faded and their fishes agitated, seemed to sorrow for the desponding daughter of Mithilā as for their friend. And following Sitā's shadow, lions, and tigers, and other beasts and birds, rushed from all sides in wrath. And the mountains, with their faces washed with water-falls representing tears, and their summits resembling uplifted arms, seemed to lament for Sitā, as she was being carried away. And beholding Vaidehi carried away, the glorious Sun, oppressed with sadness, had his rays dimmed and his disc darkened. "Virtue is not; and where is truth? And there is neither sincerity nor kindness,—in a case in which Rāvana is carrying away Rāma's Vaidehi thus did all creatures lament in numbers. And the young of deer, afflicted with fear, wept with woe-begone faces. And the sylvan deities, looking up now and again with eyes betokening fear, had their persons all in a tremble. For compassing his own destruction, the Ten-headed one carried away the intelligent Vaidehi, bewailing bitterly, Sitā, who had come by such misfortune, sweet-voiced, crying, "O Lakshmana" "O Rāma," and casting glances on the ground many a time and oft,—the ends of her hair waving and her tilika wiped out. Then oppressed with the load of fear, Sitā of luminous smiles,—Mithilā' s daughter, bereft of her friends —not beholding either Rāma or Lakshmana, became pale of countenance.