lay.
Then swelled the monarch's bosom with delight,
And his heart triumphed at the happy sight.
He turned to Bhadra, standing by his side,--
Upon whose secret news the king relied.--
And bade him say what people said and thought
Of all the exploits that his arm had wrought.
The spy was silent, but, when questioned still,
Thus spake, obedient to his master's will:
"For all thy deeds in peace and battle done
The people praise thee, King, except for one:
This only act of all thy life they blame,--
Thy welcome home of her, thy ravished dame."
Like iron yielding to the iron's blow,
Sank Rama, smitten by those words of woe.
His breast, where love and fear for empire vied,
Swayed, like a rapid swing, from side to side.
Shall he this rumour scorn, which blots his life,
Or banish her, his dear and spotless wife?
But rigid Duty left no choice between
His perilled honour and his darling queen.
Called to his side, his brothers wept to trace
The marks of anguish in his altered face.
No longer bright and glorious as of old,
He thus addressed them when the tale was told:
"Alas! my brothers, that my life should blot
The fame of those the Sun himself begot:
As from the labouring cloud the driven rain
Leaves on the mirror's polished face a stain.
E'en as an elephant who loathes the stake
And the strong chain he has no power to break,
I cannot brook this cry on every side,
That spreads like oil upon the moving tide.
I leave the daughter of Videha's King,
And the fair blossom soon from her to spring,
As erst, obedient to my sire's command,
I left the empire of the sea-girt land.
Good is my queen, and spotless; but the blame
Is hard to bear, the mockery and the shame.
Men blame the pure Moon for the darkened ray,
When the black shadow takes the light away.
And, O my brothers, if ye wish to see
Rama live long from this reproach set free,
Let not your pity labour to control
The firm sad purpose of his changeless soul."

Thus Rama spake. The sorrowing brothers heard
His stern resolve, without an answering word;
For none among them dared his voice to raise,
That will to question:--and they could not praise.
"Beloved brother," thus the monarch cried
To his dear Lakshman, whom he called aside.--
Lakshman, who knew no will save his alone
Whose hero deeds through all the world were known:--
"My queen has told me that she longs to rove
Beneath the shade of Saint Valmiki's grove:
Now mount thy car, away my lady bear;
Tell all, a