{"collection":"Hinduism","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/hin/rama/ry254.htm","path":"hin/rama/ry254.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/hin/rama/ry254.htm","text":"His words the Maithil lady heard\n Oppressed by woe but undeterred.\n Fear of the fiend she cast aside,\n And thus in noble scorn replied:\n 'His word of honour never stained\n King Das'aratha nobly reigned,\n The bridge of right, the friend of truth.\n His eldest son, a noble youth,\n Is R\u00e1ma, virtue's faithful friend,\n Whose glories through the worlds extend.\n Long arms and large full eyes has he,\n Mv husband, yea a God to me.\n With shoulders like the forest king's,\n From old Ikshv\u00e1ku's line he springs.\n He with his brother Lakshman's aid\n Will smite thee with the vengeful blade.\n Hadst thou but dared before his eyes\n To lay thine hand upon the prize,\n Thou stretched before his feet hadst lain\n In Janasth\u00e1n like Khara slain.\n Thy boasted rovers of the night\n With hideous shapes and giant might,--\n Like serpents when the feathered king\n Swoops down with his tremendous wing,--\n Will find their useless venom fail\n When R\u00e1ma's mighty arms assail.\n The rapid arrows bright with gold.\n Shot from the bow he loves to hold.\n Will rend thy frame from flank to flank\n As Gang\u00e1's waves erode the bank.\n Though neither God nor fiend have power\n To slay thee in the battle hour,\n Yet from his hand shall come thy fate,\n Struck down before his vengeful hate.\n That mighty lord will strike and end\n The days of life thou hast to spend.\n Thy days are doomed, thy life is sped\n Like victim's to the pillar led.\n Yea, if the glance of R\u00e1ma bright\n With fury on thy form should light,\n Thou scorched this day wouldst fall and die\n \n \n Like K\u00e1ma slain by Rudra's eye.\u00a01\n He who from heaven the moon could throw,\n Or bid its bright rays cease to glow,--\n He who could drain the mighty sea\n Will set his darling S\u00edt\u00e1 free\n Fled is thy life, thy glory, fled\n Thy strength and power: each sense is dead.\n Soon Lank\u00e1 widowed by thy guilt\n Will see the blood of giants spilt.\n This wicked deed, O cruel King,\n No triumph, no delight will bring.\n Thou with outrageous might and scorn\n A woman from her lord hast torn.\n My glorious husband far away,\n Making heroic strength his stay,\n Dwells with his brother, void of fear,\n In Dandak forest lone and drear.\n No more in force of arms confide:\n That haughty strength, that power and pride\n My hero with his arrowy rain\n From all thy bleeding limbs will drain.\n When urged by fate's dire mandate, nigh\n Comes the fixt hour for men to die.\n Caught in Death's toils their eyes are blind,\n And folly takes each wandering mind.\n So for the outrage thou hast done\n The fate is near thou canst not shun,--\n The fate that on thyself and all\n Thy giants and thy town shall fall.\n I spurn thee: can the altar dight\n With vessels for the sacred rite,\n O'er which the priest his prayer has said,\n Be sullied by an outcaste's tread?\n So me, the consort dear and true\n Of him who clings to virtue too,\n Thy hated touch shall ne'er defile,\n Base tyrant lord of Lank\u00e1's isle.\n Can the white swan who floats in pride\n Through lilies by her consort's side,\n Look for one moment, as they pass,\n On the poor diver in the grass?\n This senseless body waits thy will.\n To torture, chain, to wound or kill.\n I will not, King of giants, strive\n To keep this fleeting soul alive\n But never shall they join the name\n Of S\u00edt\u00e1 with reproach and shame.\n \u00a0\u00a0 Thus as her breast with fury burned\n Her bitter speech the dame returned.\n Such words of rage and scorn, the last\n She uttered, at the fiend she cast\n Her taunting speech the giant heard,\n And every hair with anger stired,\n Then thus with fury in his eye\n He made in threats his fierce reply\n 'Hear Maithil lady, hear my speech\n * to my words and ponder each\n * thy head twelve months shall fly\n \n \n And thou thy love wilt still deny,\n My cooks shall mince thy flesh with steel\n And serve it for my morning meal.'\n \u00a0\u00a0 Thus with terrific threats to her\n Spake R\u00e1van, cruel ravener.\n Mad with the rage her answer woke\n He called the fiendish train and spoke:\n 'Take her, ye R\u00e1kshas dames, who fright\n With hideous form and mien the sight,\n Who make the flesh of men your food,--\n And let her pride be soon subdued.'\n He spoke, and at his word the band\n Of fiendish monsters raised each hand\n In reverence to the giant king,\n And pressed round S\u00edt\u00e1 in a ring.\n R\u00e1van once more with stern behest\n To those she-fiends his speech addressed:\n Shaking the earth beneath his tread,\n He stamped his furious foot and said:\n 'To the As'oka garden bear\n The dame, and guard her safely there\n Until her stubborn pride be bent\n By mingled threat and blandishment.\n See that ye watch her well, and tame,\n Like some she-elephant, the dame.'\n \u00a0\u00a0 They led her to that garden where\n The sweetest flowers perfumed the air,\n Where bright trees bore each rarest fruit,\n And birds, enamoured, ne'er were mute.\n Bowed down with terror and distress,\n Watched by each cruel giantess,--\n Like a poor solitary deer\n When ravening tigresses are near,--\n The hapless lady lay distraught\n Like some wild thing but newly caught,\n And found no solace, no relief\n From agonizing fear and grief;\n Not for one moment could forget\n Each terrifying word and threat,\n Or the fierce eyes upon her set\n \u00a0\u00a0 By those who watched around.\n She thought of R\u00e1ma far away,\n She mourned for Lakshman as she lay\n In grief and terror and dismay\n \u00a0\u00a0 Half fainting on the ground.\n \n \n \n \n296:1 See Book I Caato XXV","title":"BOOK III: Canto LVI.: S\u00edt\u00e1's Disdain.","type":"page"}