of the giant brood,
And "She is now mine own," he thought,
In Death's dire coils already caught.

Canto LVI. Sita's Disdain.

His words the Maithil lady heard
Oppressed by woe but undeterred.
Fear of the fiend she cast aside,
And thus in noble scorn replied:
"His word of honour never stained
King Dasaratha nobly reigned,
The bridge of right, the friend of truth.
His eldest son, a noble youth,
Is Rama, virtue's faithful friend,
Whose glories through the worlds extend.
Long arms and large full eyes has he,
My husband, yea a God to me.
With shoulders like the forest king's,
From old Ikshvaku's line he springs.
He with his brother Lakshman's aid
Will smite thee with the vengeful blade.
Hadst thou but dared before his eyes
To lay thine hand upon the prize,
Thou stretched before his feet hadst lain
In Janasthan like Khara slain.
Thy boasted rovers of the night
With hideous shapes and giant might,--
Like serpents when the feathered king
Swoops down with his tremendous wing,--
Will find their useless venom fail
When Rama's mighty arms assail.
The rapid arrows bright with gold,
Shot from the bow he loves to hold,
Will rend thy frame from flank to flank
As Ganga's waves erode the bank.
Though neither God nor fiend have power
To slay thee in the battle hour,
Yet from his hand shall come thy fate,
Struck down before his vengeful hate.
That mighty lord will strike and end
The days of life thou hast to spend.
Thy days are doomed, thy life is sped
Like victims to the pillar led.
Yea, if the glance of Rama bright
With fury on thy form should light,
Thou scorched this day wouldst fall and die
Like Kama slain by Rudra's eye.(506)
He who from heaven the moon could throw,
Or bid its bright rays cease to glow,--
He who could drain the mighty sea
Will set his darling Sita free.
Fled is thy life, thy glory, fled
Thy strength and power: each sense is dead.
Soon Lanka widowed by thy guilt
Will see the blood of giants spilt.
This wicked deed, O cruel King,
No triumph, no delight will bring.
Thou with outrageous might and scorn
A woman from her lord hast torn.
My glorious husband far away,
Making heroic strength his stay,
Dwells with his brother, void of fear,
In Dandak forest lone and drear.
No more in force of arms confide:
That haughty strength, that power and pride
My hero with his arrowy rain
From all thy bleeding limbs will drain.
When urged by fate's dire mandate, nigh
Comes the fixt hour for men to