SECTION LXII.
Not beholding Sitā the virtuous-souled Rāma, of mighty arms, having eyes resembling lotuses, beside himself with grief, lamented (in many a way). Pierced with the shafts of Manmatha, Rāghava, as if beholding Sitā though he actually did not see her, uttered the following piteous accents—"O my dear, thou delightest greatly in flowers. Covering thy own person with Asoka twigs thou art increasing my grief. Thy thighs are like unto the trunks of plantain trees and thou hast hidden thyself behind the plantain grove. But I percieve thee, O fair one, thou art incapable of keeping thyself hidden. O auspicious one, thou hast entered smiling the Karnikar grove. No more with thy pastime, O dear one, leading to my death. Moreover it is not proper to sport in this way in a hermitage. I know it full well, O my dear, that thou art by nature fond of pastimes. But O thou of expansive eyes, this cottage lieth desolate, do thou come here. Evident it is that Sitā hath either been devoured by the Rākshasas or carried away by them, and therefore she doth not approach me, O Lakshmana, who am thus bewailing. These deer, O Lakshmana, with tearful eyes have been as if declaring that Sitā hath been devoured by the night-rangers. O chaste one, O thou of exquisitely fine hue, O worshipful madam, whither hast thou repaired? O Sitā, truly hath the desire of Kaikeyi been fulfilled to-day. I came out with Sitā and shall return home without her. How shall I enter again that inner apartment void of Sitā? Surely shall the people blame me as being cruel and destitute of energy. That I have no prowess hath already been manifested in the destruction of Sitā. When the king Janaka shall come to me after my return home from exile, to ask me of my welfare how shall I meet him? And surely shall he be overwhelmed with grief on his daughter's account when he shall find me without Sitā. Blessed is my father since he is in heaven now. I shall not repair to that city protected by Bharata. Without her even the heaven itself appears to me as desolate. Do thou therefore repair to the city of Ayodhya leaving me in this forest. By no means shall I breathe without her. Embracing him warmly do thou tell Bharata, as instructed by me— 'Rāma hath given thee permission to administer this kingdom.' As ordered by me do thou with proper respect salute all my mothers Kauçalya, Kaikeyi and Sumitrā and protect them all with great care and respectful compliments. O destroyer of foes, do thou relate at length unto my mother the story of Sitā's destruction." Rāma bewailing thus, being overwhelmed with grief on account of his separation from Sitā having a head of fine hair, Lakshmana became of pale countenance and was greatly distressed at heart.
SECTION LXIII.
That son of a king, stricken as he was with grief consequent upon separation from his dear one, was again overwhelmed with a terrible grief after causing sorrow unto his brother. Sunk in the abyss of grief, Rāma, sighing hot and weeping piteously, spoke unto Lakshmana who was equally aggrieved, words worthy of being said on that occasion. "Me thinks there is none other on this earth like me, the perpetrator of vicious crimes. My heart or soul is not riven though crushed again and again without respite with a multitude of doleful events. Surely did I perpetrate many a vicious deed in my previous birth, the fruit of which I do now suffer and in consequence whereof misfortune after misfortune hath befallen me. Coming within the compass of my remembrance, the loss of my kingdom, the death of my father, the separation of my mother and other kinsmen culminates my grief. Repairing unto woods, O Lakshmana, in Sitā's company my grief was assuaged, nay I did not suffer physical affliction even. Without Sitā these sorrows have grown anew like unto fire flaming again by means of fuel. Truly my wife, timid as she is, hath been carried away by a Rākshasa by the etherial track. Alas I doubtless it is, that one of pleasant accents, wept piteously out of fear many a time and oft. For certain my dear wife's breast round and sprinkled as it was with red sandal paste, was bathed in blood (while devoured by the Rākshasas)—but there is no death for me. That countenance the beauty of which was enhanced by a head of curly hair and which used to emit forth tender, soft and clear accents, hath become pale, being taken possession of by the Rākshasas like unto the Moon almost devoured by Rāhu. Surely have the Rākshasas subsisting on gore drunk her blood in the sky tearing oft the neck of my dear one ever devoted to pious observances. Surely did that one of beautifully expansive eyes cry aloud poorly like unto a hind when she was drawn hither and thither by the Rākshasas encircling her in the forest in my absence. O Lakshmana, sitting at the foot of this hill with me that large-hearted, pious Sitā, of smilling countenance, used to address thee on many a topic. This is Godavari, the best of rivers, my dear wife took delight in her— has she gone there?—But she never goes there alone. Or has Jānaki having eyes resembling lotus-petals hath gone to bring lotuses? But how is that possible, she never goes without me to bring lotuses. Hath she entered at her pleasure this forest filled with many flowery trees and diverse birds? But that is not possible too—she is timid and feareth much to enter alone in this forest. O Aditya, knowest thou the pious and vicious actions of men; beareth thou testimony to the truth and untruth of their actions—do thou tell me, pray, who am striken with grief, whither hath my dear one repaired, or whether hath she been killed? O Air, there is nothing on earth which is not within the compass of thy vision, do thou relate unto me whether Sitā preserving the fame of my ancestry, hath been killed or carried away or if she waiteth on the way." After Rāma had bewailed thus being beside himself with grief, Saumitri, ever treading the right path and not of poorly mind spoke words worthy of being said on that occasion.—"Do thou take heart renouncing thy grief and engage with energy in quest of Sitā. Persons of high energy are never exhausted on the earth even in the face of arduous works." The highly powerful Lakshmana having spoken thus being afflicted with grief, Rāma, the best of Raghu's descendants, did not consider that worth pondering over. Renouncing patience he again indulged in excessive grief.
SECTION LXIV.
Rāma stricken with grief spake unto Lakshmana the following piteous words saying, "O Lakshmana, do thou speedily repair to the river Godaveri and learn if Sitā hath gone there to fetch lotuses." Being thus addressed by Rāma, the quick-paced Lakshmana went to the pleasant stream Godaveri. Reconnoitering full well the river containing many a watering-place Lakshmana spake unto Rāma saying, "Searched have I all the watering-places but have found her nowhere—anon I cried aloud but she did not hear. I cannot trace whither hath Vaidehi of slender waist repaired ever assuaging our mental affliction." Hearing Lakshmana' s words, Rāma, aggrieved and overwhelmed with sorrow repaired in person to the river Godaveri. Arriving there cried he "Where is Sitā?" Neither did the world of creatures nor the river Godaveri apprise Rāma of Sitā's being carried away by the Lord of Rākshasas worthy of being slain. Thinking of the terrible figure and monstrous actions of that vicious-souled Rāvana, that river did not dare relate unto him anything about Sitā, albeit appointed by the creatures to relate the story concerning her and accosted by Rāma in piteous accents. Being thus disappointed by the river in beholding Sitā, Rāma racked with her separation spake unto Lakshmana saying "O thou of auspicious looks, this river Godavari doth give no reply. But O Lakshmana, returning without her what shall I say unto Janaka and Vaidehi's mother? Where hath that Vaidehi gone who used to assuage my grief who had been deprived of kingdom and living in this forest on wild fruits and vegetables? Nights shall appear too long unto me, keeping late hours being deprived of my kinsmen and relatives and not beholding Vaidehi. I can range this Mandākini, this Janasthāna and this Pasrabana hill if I can find Sitā there. Behold, O hero, the high deer have been casting their looks again and again at men; methinks from their gestures, they intend speaking something uoto me." Beholding them, Rāghava, the best of men, looked at them and said in accents choked with vapour—"Where is Sitā?" Being thus addressed by that Lord of men the deer rose up all on a sudden and looked up to the sky facing the south and proceeded to the direction by which Maithili had been carried away. And moving by that way these deer eyed the Lord of men and again and again fixed their looks upon that way and earth and passed along emitting cries which was marked by Lakshmana. He marked with attention their movements and cries and spake unto his elder brother like one aggrieved saying—"Being accosted by thee with—'Where is Sitā?' these deer have stood up all on a sudden and have been pointing to the south and earth— let us therefore proceed in this direction—it may be that we shall either meet with that worshipful madam or find some mementos concerning her." Thereat Kākuthstha, gifted with supreme beauty, proceeded towards the south being followed by Lakshmana and casting his look upon the earth. While proceeding thus, conversing with each other the two brothers beheld some flowers scattered on the high-way.
Beholding a collection of flowers scattered on earth, Rāma, exceedingly sorry, spake unto Lakshmana in piteous accents saying "O Lakshmana, 1 have come to know that these are the flowers of the forest I gave Vaidehi; with these she decorated her hair. Me thinks the sun, the air and the famed earth have preserved them for my well-being." Having spoken these words unto Lakshmana, the best of men, the virtuous-souled Rāma, of mighty arms, addressed the mountain in front of him containing many fountains, saying—"0 thou the best of mountains, hast thou beheld in this picturesque forest-land, that exquisitely fine damsel racked with my separation?" Exceedingly wroth he accosted the mountain like unto a lion addresing a little deer, saying "Show me my graceful Sitā hued like gold before I crush down thy summits." Being thus addressed by Rāma on Maithili's account the mountain did not show him Sitā. Again addressed him Rāma—"Thou shalt by the fire of my arrows, be reduced to ashes—thy twigs and leaves shall be totally destroyed and no one shall resort to thee. O Lakshmana, I shall dry up this river Godavari if it telleth me not about Sitā having a moon-like countenance." Rāma, exceedingly wroth, cast his looks around as if desiring to burn everything with his eyes and beheld footprints of the Rākshasas on the earth as well as those of Sitā moving wildly hither and thither, terrified and desirous to see Rāma, while pursued by the Rākshasas. Beholding these footmarks, the snapped bow, the quiver and the chariot broken into many pieces, Rāma, terrified spake unto his dear brother. "Behold O, Lakshmana, the remnants of Vaidehi's golden ornaments, strewn hither and thither, and diverse garlands. Behold O Saumitri, the earth covered with drops of blood resembling golden drops. Methinks, O Lakshmana, Vaidehi hath been devoured by the Rākshasas assuming shapes at will, having sundered her in pieces. O Saumitri, there took place a terrible conflict between the Rākshasas, fighting with each other on Sitā's account. O gentle one, whose is this snapped bow lying on the breast of the earth adorned and crested with pearls and diamonds? O brother, this belongs either to the celestials or to the Rākshasas. Whose is this golden armour lying shattered on earth, resembling the newly risen sun; in color and adorned with sapphire? Whose is this umbrella lying broken on earth, containing a hundred rod and adorned with celestial garlands? In whose conflict have these terrible asses, of large proportions, having faces of demon and with breast plates, been killed? Whose is this shattered war-car lying upset on the ground and broken flag resembling in lustre the burning gold? Whose are these terrible arrows feathered in gold, measuring four-hundred fingers, lying without blades on earth? Behold, O Lakshmana, these two quivers have been totally spoiled though filled with arrows. Whose charioteer is this who hath been killed with reins and lash in hands? These foot-marks must be some Rākshasa's. I made these Rākshasas my fatal enemies, assuming shapes at will and of crooked hearts. Poor Sitā must have been either dead, carried away by them or devoured. Virtue did not save her from being carried away in this mighty forest. O Lakshmana, while virtue did not protect Jānaki being devoured or taken away by stealth, what person else gifted with heavenly power, on this earth shall bring about my well-being? For this it is that people through ignorance disregard the ever kind Almighty—the lord of creatures and the best of the celestials. Truly shall the celestials regard me as one devoid of prowess, who am mild-tempered, kind, ever engaged in the welfare of the humanity, and have controlled all my senses. Observe, O Lakshmana, obtaining me as the stay these accomplishments have been turned into so many blemishes. Truly shall my prowess manifest itself to-day overshadowing all my other accomplishments for the destruction of the Rākshasas and all created beings like unto the rising of the Sun casting the Moon into shade on the day of dissolution. None shall enjoy felicity, O Lakshmana,—Yakshas, Gandharbas, Picachas, Rākshasas, Kinnaras, or human beings. Today shall the welkin be filled up with my arrows. Motionless shall I make all the animals inhabiting the three worlds. I shall arrest the movement of the planets and overshadow the Moon. Stopping the course of the wind and destroying the rays of the Sun and fire I shall envelope the earth with darkness, crush down the summits of the mountains, dry up the pools, blow up the creepers, demolish the Ocean and erradicate the trees. If the celestials do not give me back my Sitā I shall bring about the dissolution of the three worlds which would else have been wrought by time. O son of Sumitrā, instantly shall the celestials headed by Indra, meet with my prowess, if they do not give back my Sitā, ever advancing my wellfare. None shall be able to range the welkin. Behold Lakshmana, being perpetually crushed down by my arrow's shot off my bow, the world shall be disturbed and dislodged and the animals and birds shall be confused and destroyed. Stretching the bow to my ears I shall make the world, for Sitā's sake, void of Pisachas and Rākshasas with my arrows incapable of being withstood by created beings. To-day shall the celestials behold the power of my arrows coursing a long distance shot through my ire. Three worlds destroyed on account of my wrath, celestials, Dānavas, Pisachas or Rākshasas,—none shall be saved. The dwellings of the celestials, Asuras, Yakshas and Rākshasas shall fall down sundered by my arrows into diverse pieces. I shall dislodge the whole world by my arrows. If the celestials do not give me back my Vaidehi dead or carried away or as she was before, I shall destroy the whole world mobile or immobile and disturb all with my arrows until I see her." Having spoken thus, Rāma, with his eyes reddened with ire and lips swollen, tying fast his bark and deer-skin, braided his matted locks. Having done this, being exceedingly wroth he looked like Rudra about to destroy Tripura. Thereat taking his bow from Lakshmana and holding it fast, the effulgent Rāma, the conqueror of foes, fixed flaming arrows to it like so many serpents and said being exercised with ire like unto fire on the eve of dissolution.—"O Lakshmana none shall be able to withstand me, who am inflamed with rage, as debility consequent on old age, death, time, duty are incapable of being averted from their destined ends by the animals. I shall bring about a mighty revolution in the world containing the celestials Gandharba, human beings, Pannagas and the mountains, if I do not get back, in her pristine beauty, my Sitā, the daughter of the King of Mithilā."
SECTION LXV.
Rāma highly aggrieved on account of Sitā's being carried away, addressing himself to destroy the world like unto the fire of dissolution and casting his look, sighing again and again, upon the stringed bow like unto Mahadev desirous of burning down the whole world at the time of dissolution, Lakshmana, having his countenance dried up, beholding his rage not seen before, began with folded hands—"Ere this thou hadst been gentle, self-controlled and engaged in the welfare of all beings. It doth not behove thee now to renounce thy natural temper being influenced by ire. Ever manifested itself in thee, glory par excellence like unto splendour in the Moon, lustre in the Sun, motion in the wind and forgiveness in the Earth. It becometh thee not to devastate the whole world for the crime of an individual being. Methinks for certain, this shattered car must be the property of an individual person, not of many. But I do not know whose is this car with yokes and dresses and what for it hath been shattered? Behold, O thou the son of a King, this terrible spot bathed in blood and raked with hoofs and wheels. Surely here took place a conflict. O thou the foremost of those skilled in speech, it appeareth from these signs that this skrimish did take place with one, not with two. Here are not to be seen the fool-marks of a large army. It therefore doth not behove thee to destroy the whole world for one's individual offence. Kings, gentle and mild by nature, do always administer punishment, proportionate to the amount of offence. Thou art always the stay and the best refuge of all animals. Who shall think well, O Rāghava, of the destruction of thy wife? The celestials, Dānavas, Gandharbhas, rivers, seas, and mountains—none can act unfriendly by thee as the learned priests cannot act improperly towards those initiated by them. It is thy duty, O king, with bow in hand to search out the person who hath carried away Sitā, along with me and the devotees. Explore shall we, with great care, the seas, the forest, the mountains, the fearful caves, the pools and the abodes of the celestials and Gandharbas until we find out the person who hath carried away thy wife. If the celestials do not return thee peacefully thy wife, O Lord cf Koçala, thou shalt adopt measures, befitting the occassion. Thou shalt then uproot the whole world, O lord of men, with thy gold-featherd arrows resembling the thunderbolt of Mahendra,if thou dost not come by thy wife by resorting to good conduct, self-control, lowliness and polity."