rs defend,
And floods of Rakshas blood shall stain
The streets encumbered with the slain."
Down from the peak he came, and viewed
The Vanars' ordered multitude.
Each captain there for battle burned,
Each fiery eye to Lanka turned.
On, where the royal brothers led
To Lanka's walls the legions sped.
The northern gate, where giant foes
Swarmed round their monarch, Rama chose
Where he in person might direct
The battle, and his troops protect.
What arm but his the post might keep
Where, strong as he who sways the deep,(949)
Mid thousands armed with bow and mace,
Stood Ravan mightiest of his race?
The eastern gate was Nila's post,
Where marshalled stood his Vanar host,
And Mainda with his troops arrayed,
And Dwivid stood to lend him aid.
The southern gate was Angad's care,
Who ranged his bold battalions there.
Hanuman by the port that faced
The setting sun his legions placed,
And King Sugriva held the wood
East of the gate where Ravan stood.
On every side the myriads met,
And Lanka's walls of close beset
That scarce the roving gale could win
A passage to the hosts within.
Loud as the angry ocean's roar
When wild waves lash the rocky shore,
Ten thousand thousand throats upsent
A shout that tore the firmament,
And Lanka with each grove and brook
And tower and wall and rampart shook.
The giants heard, and were appalled:
Then Raghu's son to Angad called,
And, led by kingly duty,(950) gave
This order merciful as brave:
"Go, Angad, Ravan's presence seek,
And thus my words of warning speak:
"How art thou changed and fallen now,
O Monarch of the giants, thou
Whose impious fury would not spare
Saint, nymph, or spirit of the air;
Whose foot in haughty triumph trod
On Yaksha, king, and Serpent God:
How art thou fallen from thy pride
Which Brahma's favour fortified!
With myriads at thy Lanka's gate
I stand my righteous ire to sate,
And punish thee with sword and flame,
The tyrant fiend who stole my dame.
Now show the might, employ the guile,
O Monarch of the giants' isle,
Which stole a helpless dame away:
Call up thy power and strength to-day.
Once more I warn thee, Rakshas King,
This hour the Maithil lady bring,
And, yielding while there yet is time,
Seek, suppliant, pardon for the crime,
Or I will leave beneath the sun
No living Rakshas, no, not one.
In vain from battle wilt thou fly,
Or borne on pinions seek the sky;
The hand of Rama shall not spare;
His fiery shaft shall smite thee there.' "

He cea