en Rama at his word unclosed
The chest wherein its might reposed,
Thus crying, as he viewed it: "Lo!
I lay mine hand upon the bow:
May happy luck my hope attend
Its heavenly strength to lift or bend."
"Good luck be thine," the hermit cried:
"Assay the task!" the king replied.
Then Raghu's son, as if in sport,
Before the thousands of the court,
The weapon by the middle raised
That all the crowd in wonder gazed.
With steady arm the string he drew
Till burst the mighty bow in two.
As snapped the bow, an awful clang,
Loud as the shriek of tempests, rang.
The earth, affrighted, shook amain
As when a hill is rent in twain.
Then, senseless at the fearful sound,
The people fell upon the ground:
None save the king, the princely pair,
And the great saint, the shock could bear.

When woke to sense the stricken train,
And Janak's soul was calm again,
With suppliant hands and reverent head,
These words, most eloquent, he said:
"O Saint, Prince Rama stands alone:
His peerless might he well has shown.
A marvel has the hero wrought
Beyond belief, surpassing thought.
My child, to royal Rama wed,
New glory on our line will shed:
And true my promise will remain
That hero's worth the bride should gain.
Dearer to me than light and life,
My Sita shall be Rama's wife.
If thou, O Brahman, leave concede,
My counsellors, with eager speed,
Borne in their flying cars, to fair
Ayodhya's town the news shall bear,
With courteous message to entreat
The king to grace my royal seat.
This to the monarch shall they tell,
The bride is his who won her well:
And his two sons are resting here
Protected by the holy seer.
So, at his pleasure, let them lead
The sovereign to my town with speed."

The hermit to his prayer inclined
And Janak, lord of virtuous mind,
With charges, to Ayodhya sent
His ministers: and forth they went.

Canto LXVIII. The Envoys' Speech.

Three nights upon the road they passed
To rest the steeds that bore them fast,
And reached Ayodhya's town at last.
Then straight at Dasaratha's call
They stood within the royal hall,
Where, like a God, inspiring awe,
The venerable king they saw.
With suppliant palm to palm applied,
And all their terror laid aside,
They spoke to him upon the throne
With modest words, in gentle tone:
"Janak, Videha's king, O Sire,
Has sent us hither to inquire
The health of thee his friend most dear,
Of all thy priests and every peer.
Next Kusik's son consenting, thus
King Ja