s chariot rode
At Nila; and his arrowy rain
Fell on the captain and his train.
Fierce Nila stayed his Vanar band,
And, heaving with his single hand
A mountain peak, with vigorous swing
Hurled the huge missile at the king.

Hanuman life and strength regained,
Burned for the fight and thus complained:
"Why, coward giant, didst thou flee
And leave the doubtful fight with me?"
Seven mighty arrows keen and fleet
The giant launched, the hill to meet;
And, all its force and fury stayed,
The harmless mass on earth was laid.
Enraged the Vanar chief beheld
The mountain peak by force repelled,
And rained upon the foe a shower
Of trees uptorn with branch and flower.
Still his keen shafts which pierced and rent
Each flying tree the giant sent:
Still was the Vanar doomed to feel
The tempest of the winged steel.
Then, smarting from that arrowy storm,
The Vanar chief condensed his form,(964)
And lightly leaping from the ground
On Ravan's standard footing found;
Then springing unimpeded down
Stood on his bow and golden crown.
The Vanar's nimble leaps amazed
Ikshvaku's son who stood and gazed.
The giant, raging in his heart,
Laid on his bow a fiery dart;
The Vanar on his flagstaff eyed,
And thus in tones of fury cried:
"Well skilled in magic lore art thou:
But will thine art avail thee now?
See if thy magic will defend
Thy life against the dart I send."

Thus Ravan spake, the giant king,
And loosed the arrow from the string.
It pierced, with direst fury sped,
The Vanar with its flaming head.
His father's might, his power innate
Preserved him from the threatened fate.
Upon his knees he fell, distained
With streams of blood, but life remained.

Still Ravan for the battle burned:
At Lakshman next his car he turned,
And charged amain with furious show,
Straining in mighty hands his bow.
"Come," Lakshman cried, "assay the fight:
Leave foes unworthy of thy might."
Thus Lakshman spoke: and Lanka's lord
Heard the dread thunder of the cord.
And mad with burning rage and pride
In hasty words like these replied:
"Joy, joy is mine, O Raghu's son:
Thy fate to-day thou canst not shun.
Slain by mine arrows thou shalt tread
The gloomy pathway of the dead."

Thus as he spoke his bow he drew,
And seven keen shafts at Lakshman flew,
But Raghu's son with surest aim
Cleft every arrow as it came.
Thus with fleet shafts each warrior shot
Against his foe, and rested not.
Then one choice weapon from his store,
By Brahma