Thus having warned his brother hold
He grasped his sword with * gold*
And followed with the *** in went
His wr* *ght and *
A while with trembling heart he fled,
The * and showed his stately head.
With sword and bow the chief pursued
Where'or the fleeing deer he viewed
Sending* from dell* and lone recess
The splendid ** his loveliness
Now full in view the creature stood
Now vanished in the depth of wood;
Now running with a languid flight,
Now like a meteor lost to sight.
With trembling limbs away he sped;
Then like the moon with clouds o'erspread
Gleamed for a moment bright between
The trees, and was again unseen
Thus in the magic deer's disguise
Mancha lured him to the prize,
And seen a while, then lost to view,
Far from his cot the hero drew.
Still by the flying game deceived
The hunter's heart was wroth and grieved,
And wearied with the fruitless chase
He stayed him in a shady place.
Again the river of the night
*ged the chieftain* full in sight,
Slow moving in the coppice near,
Surrounded by the woodland deer
Again the hunter sought the game
That seemed a while to court his aim:
But seized again with sudden dread,
Beyond his sight the creature fled.
Again the hero left the shade,
Again the deer before him strayed.
With surer hope and stronger will
The hunter longed his prey to kill.
Then as his soul impatient grew,
An arrow from his side he drew,
Besplendent at the sunbeam's glow,
The crusher of the smitten foe,
With skillful bead the mighty lord
Fixed well shaft and strained the cord.
Upon the deer his eyes he bent,
And like a fiery ** went
The arrow Brahma's self had framed,
Alive with sparks that hissed and flamed,
Like Indra's flashing levin, true
To the false deer the missile flew
Cleaving his flesh that wonderous dart
Stood quivering in Mancha's heart.
Scarce from the ground one foot he sprang,
Then stricken fell with deadly pang.
Ha* **, as he pressed* the ground,
He gave a roar of awful sound
And *e the wounded giant died
He threw his borrowed form aside
Remembering still his lord's behest
He pondered in his heart how best
Sítá's plight ** ** guard away,
And Ravan seize the helpless prey
The monster knew the time was nigh.
And called aloud with eager cry,
'Hi*, Sítá, Lakshman* and the tone
He borrowed was like Ráma's own
So by that matchless arrow cleft,
The deer's bright form Márícha left,
Resumed his giant shape and size
And closed in death his languid eyes
When Ráma saw his awful foe
Gasp, smeared with blood, in deadly throe,
His anxious thoughts to Sítá sped,
And the wise words that Lakshman said,
That this was false Márícha's art,
Returned again upon his heart.
He knew the foe he triumphed o'er
The name of great Márícha bore.
'The fiend,' he pondered, 'ere has died,
'Ho Lakshman! ho, my Sítá!' cried
Ah, if that cry has reached her ear,
How dire must be my darling's fear!
And Lakshman of the mighty arm,
What thinks he in his wild alarm?
As thus he thought in sad surmise,
Each startled hair began to rise,
And when he saw the giant slain
And thought upon that cry again,
His spirit sank and terror pressed
Full sorely on the hero's breast
Another deer he chased and struck.
He bore away the the fallen puck,
To Janasthán then turned his face
And hastened to his dwelling place.