{"collection":"Hinduism","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/hin/rama/ry291.htm","path":"hin/rama/ry291.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/hin/rama/ry291.htm","text":"Like some proud tree before the blast\n Brave B\u00e1li to the ground was cast,\n Where prostrate in the dust he rolled\n Clad in the sheen of glistening gold,\n \n \n As when uptorn the standard lies\n Of the great God who rules the skies.\n When low upon the earth was laid\n The lord whom V\u00e1nar tribes obeyed,\n Dark as a moonless sky no more\n His land her joyous aspect wore.\n Though low in dust and mire was rolled\n The form of B\u00e1li lofty-souled,\n Still life and valour, might and grace\n Clung to their well-loved dwelling-place.\n That golden chain with rich gems set,\n The choicest gift of S\u00e1kra, \u00a01 yet\n Preserved his life nor let decay\n Steal strength and beauty's light away.\n Still from that chain divinely wrought\n His dusky form a glory caught,\n As a dark cloud, when day is done,\n Made splendid by the dying sun.\n As fell the hero, crushed in fight,\n There beamed afar a triple light\n From limbs, from chain, from shaft that drank\n His life-blood as the warrior sank.\n The never-failing shaft, impelled\n By the great bow which R\u00e1ma held,\n Brought bliss supreme, and lit the way\n To Brahm\u00e1's worlds which ne'er decay. \u00a02\n \u00a0\u00a0 R\u00e1ma and Lakshman nearer drew\n The mighty fallen foe to view,\n Mahendra's son, the brave and bold,\n The monarch with his chain of gold,\n With lustrous face and tawny eyes,\n Broad chest, and arms of wondrous size,\n Like Lord Mahendra fierce in fight,\n Or Vishnu's never-conquered might,\n Now fallen like Yay\u00e1il \u00a03 sent\n From heaven, his store of merit spent.\n Like the bright flame that pales and dies,\n Like the great sun who fires the skies,\n Doomed in the general doom to fall\n When time shall end and ruin all.\n \u00a0\u00a0 The wounded B\u00e1li, when he saw\n R\u00e1ma and Lakshman nearer draw.\n Keen words to Raghu's son, impressed\n With justice' holy stamp, addressed:\n \u00a0\u00a0 'What fame, from one thou hast not slain\n \n \n In front of battle, canst thou gain,\n Whose secret hand has laid me low\n When madly fighting with my foe?\n From every tongue thy glory rings,\n A scion of a line of kings,\n True to thy vows, of noblest race,\n With every gentle gift and grace:\n Whose tender heart for woe can feel,\n And joy in every creature's weal:\n Whose breast with high ambition swell--\n Knows duty's claim and ne'er rebels.\n They praise thy valour, patience, ruth,\n Thy firmness, self-restrain, and truth\n Thy hand prepared for sin's control.\n All virtues of a princely soul.\n I thought of all these gifts of thine,\n And glories of an ancient line,\n I set my T\u00e1r\u00e1's tears at naught,\n I met Sugr\u00edva and we fought.\n O R\u00e1ma, till this fatal morn\n I held that thou wouldst surely scorn\n To strike me as I fought my foe\n And thought not of a stranger's blow,\n But now thine evil heart is shown,\n A yawning well with grass o'ergrown.\n Thou wearest virtue's badge,\u00a01b but guile\n And meanest sin thy soul defile.\n I took thee not for treacherous fire,\n A sinner clad in saint's attire;\n Nor deemed thou idly wouldst profess\n The show and garb of righteousness.\n In fenced town, in open land,\n Ne'er hast thou suffered at this hand,\n Nor canst of proud contempt complain:\n Then wherefore is the guiltless slain!\n My harmless life in woods I lead,\n On forest fruits and roots I feed.\n My foeman in the field I sought,\n And ne'er with thee, O R\u00e1ma, fought.\n Upon thy limbs, O King, I see\n The raiment of a devotee;\n And how can one like thee, who springs\n From a proud line of ancient kings.\n Beneath fair virtue's mask, disgrace\n His lineage by a deed so base?\n From Raghu is thy long descent,\n For duteous deeds pr\u00ebeminent:\n Why, sinner clad in saintly dress,\n Roamest thou through the wilderness?\n Truth, valour, justice free from spot,\n The hand that gives and grudges not,\n The might that strikes the sinner down,\n These bring a prince his best renown.\n Here in the woods, O King, we live\n On roots and fruit which branches give.\u00a02b\n \n \n Thus nature framed our harmless race:\n Thou art a man supreme in place.\n Silver and gold and land provoke\n The fierce attack, the robber's stroke.\n Canst thou desire this wild retreat,\n The berries and the fruit we eat?\n 'Tis not for mighty kings to tread\n The flowery path, by pleasure led.\n Theirs be the arm that crushes sin,\n Theirs the soft grace to woo and win:\n The steadfast will that guides the state,\n Wise favour to the good and great;\n And for all time are kings renowned\n Who blend these arts and ne'er confound,\n But thou art weak and swift to ire,\n Unstable, slave of each desire.\n Thou tramplest duty in the dust,\n And in thy bow is all thy trust.\n Thou carest naught for noble gain,\n And treatest virtue with disdain,\n While every sense its captive draws\n To follow pleasure's changing laws,\n I wronged thee not in word or deed,\n But by thy deadly dart I bleed.\n What wilt thou, mid the virtuous, say\n To purge thy lasting stain away?\n All these, O King, must sink to hell,\n The regicide, the infidel,\n He who in blood and slaughter joys,\n A Br\u00e1hman or a cow destroys,\n Untimely weds in law's despite\n Scorning an elder brother's right,\u00a01\n Who dares his Teacher's bed ascend,\n The miser, spy, and treacherous friend.\n These impious wretches, one and all,\n Must to the hell of sinners fall\n My skin the holy may not wear,\n Useless to thee my bones and hair;\n Nor may my slaughtered body be\n The food of devotees like thee.\n These five-toed things a man may slay\n And feed upon the fallen prey;\n The mailed rhinoceros may die,\n And, with the hare his food supply.\n Iguanas he may kill and eat,\n \n \n With porcupine and tortoise meat.\u00a01b\n But all the wise account it sin\n To touch my bones and hair and skin.\n My flesh they may not eat; and I\n A useless prey, O R\u00e1ma, die.\n In vain my T\u00e1r\u00e1 reasoned well,\n On dull deaf ears her counsel fell.\n I scorned her words though sooth and sweet,\n And hither rushed my fate to meet,\n Ah for the land thou rulest! she\n Finds no protection, lord, from thee,\n Neglected like some noble dame\n By a vile husband dead to shame.\n Mean-hearted coward, false and vile.\n Whose cruel soul delights in guile,\n Could Das'aratha, noblest king,\n Beget so mean and base a thing?\n Alas! an elephant, in form\n Of R\u00e1ma, in a maddening storm\n Of passion casting to the ground\n The girth of law\u00a02b that clipped him round,\n Too wildly passionate to feel\n The prick of duty's guiding steel,\u00a03b\n Has charged me unawares, and dead\n I fall beneath his murderous tread\n How, stained with this my base defeat.\n How wilt thou dare, where good men meet,\n To speak, when every tongue will blame\n With keen reproach this deed of shame?\n Such hero strength and valour, shown\n Upon the innocent alone,\n Thou hast not proved in manly strife\n On him who robbed thee of thy wife.\n Hadst thou but fought in open field\n And met me boldly unconcealed,\n This day had been thy fate to fall,\n Slain by this hand, to Yama's hall.\n In vain I strove, and struck by thee\n Fell by a hand I could not see.\n Thus bites a snake, for sins of yore,\n A sleeping man who wakes no more.\n Sugr\u00edva's foeman thou hast killed,\n And thus his heart's desire fulfilled\n But, R\u00e1ma, hadst thou sought me first,\n And told the hope thy soul has nursed,\n That very day had I restored\n Tbe Maithil lady to her lord;\n And, binding R\u00e1van with a chain,\n Had laid him at thy feet unslain.\n \n \n Yea, were she sunk in deepest hell,\n Or whelmed beneath the ocean's swell,\n I would have followed on her track\n And brought the rescued lady back,\n As Hayagr\u00edva\u00a01 once set free\n From hell the white As'vatar\u00ed.\u00a02\n That when my spirit wings its flight\n Sugr\u00edva reign, is just and right.\n But most unjust, O King, that I,\n Slain by thy treacherous hand, should lie,\n Be still, my heart: this earthly state\n Is darkly ruled by sovereign Fate.\n The realm is lost and won: defy\n Thy questioners with apt reply.'\u00a03\n \n \n \n \n343:1 Suparna, the Well-winged, is another name of Garuda the King of Birds. See p. 28, Note.\n343:2 The God of Death.\n343:3 The flag-staff erected in honour of the God Indra is lowered when the festival is over. As'v\u00edn\u00ed in astronomy is the head of Aries or the first of the tweuty-eight lunar mmansions or asterisms.\n344:1 Indra the father of B\u00e1li.\n344:2 It is believed that every creature killed by R\u00e1ma obtained in consequence immediate beatitude. 'And blessed the hand that gave so dear a death.'\n344:3 \"Yay\u00e1ti was invited to heaven by Indra, and conveyed on the way thither by M\u00e1tali, Indra's charioteer. He afterwards returned to earth where, by his virtuous administration he rendered all his subjects exempt from passion and decay.' HARRETTS C. D. OF INDIA\n344:1b The ascetic's dress which he wore during his exile.\n344:2b There is much inconsistency in the passages of the poem in which the V\u00e1nara are spoken of, which seems to point to two p. 345: widely different legends. The V\u00e1nars are generally represented as semi-divine beings with preternatural powers, living in houses and eating and drinking like men sometimes as here, as monkeys pure and simple, living is woods and eating fruit and roots.\n345:1 For a younger brother to marry before the elder is a gross violation of Indian law and duty. The same law applied to daughters with the Hebrews: \"It must not be so done in our country to give the younger before the first-born.\" GENESIS xix. 26.\n345:1b \"The hedgehog and porcupine, the lizard, the rhinoceros, the tortoise, and the rabbit or hare, wise legislators *delure* lawful food among five-toed animals.\" *MANU, i.* 18.\n345:2b \"He can not buckle his distempered cause Within the belt of rule.\" MACBETH.\n345:3b The Ankus' or iron hook with which an elephant is driven and guided.","title":"BOOK IV: Canto XVII.: B\u00e1li's Speech.","type":"page"}