, answered that mean wretch, saying, 'By sheer ill-luck it is, O
king of the Rakshasas, that I am obliged to hear such words of grievous
import spoken by thee! Blessed be thou, O Rakshasa fond of sensual
pleasures, let thy heart be withdrawn from me! I am the wife of another,
ever devoted to my husband, and, therefore, incapable of being possessed
by thee! A helpless human being that I am, I cannot be a fit wife for
thee! What joy can be thine by using violence towards an unwilling woman?
Thy father is a wise Brahmana, born of Brahma and equal unto that Lord
himself of the creation! Why dost thou not, therefore, thyself being
equal to a Regent of the Universe, observe virtue? Disgracing thy
brother, that king of the Yakshas, that adorable one who is the friend of
Maheswara himself, that lord of treasures, how is it that thou feelest no
shame?' Having said these words, Sita began to weep, her bosom shivering
in agitation, and covering her neck and face with her garments. And the
long and well-knit braid, black and glossy, falling from the head of the
weeping lady, looked like a black snake. And hearing these cruel words
uttered by Sita, the foolish Ravana, although thus rejected, addressed
Sita once more, saying, 'O lady, let the god having the Makara for his
emblem burn me sorely. I will, however, on no account, O thou of sweet
smiles and beautiful hips, approach thee, as thou art unwilling! What can
I do to thee that still feelest a regard for Rama who is only a human
being and, therefore, our food?' Having said those words unto that lady
of faultless features, the king of the Rakshasa made himself invisible
then and there and went away to the place he liked. And Sita, surrounded
by those Rakshasa women, and treated with tenderness by Trijata,
continued to dwell there in grief."

SECTION CCLXXX

"Markandeya said, 'Meanwhile the illustrious descendant of Raghu, along
with his brother, hospitably treated by Sugriva, continued to dwell on
the breast of the Malyavat hill, beholding every day the clear blue sky.
And one night, while gazing from the mountain-top on the bright moon in
the cloudless sky surrounded by planets and stars and stellar bodies,
that slayer of foes was suddenly awakened (to a remembrance of Sita) by
the cold breezes fragrant with the perfumes of the lily, lotus and other
flowers of the same species. And virtuous Rama, dejected in spirits at
the thought of Sita's captivity in the abode of the Raksh