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Of hermit saints, these words addressed:9

“In all this world, I pray thee, who

Is virtuous, heroic, true?

Firm in his vows, of grateful mind,

To every creature good and kind?

Bounteous, and holy, just, and wise,

Alone most fair to all men's eyes?

Devoid of envy, firm, and sage,

Whose tranquil soul ne'er yields to rage?

Whom, when his warrior wrath is high,

Do Gods embattled fear and fly?

Whose noble might and gentle skill

The triple world can guard from ill?

Who is the best of princes, he

Who loves his people's good to see?

The store of bliss, the living mine

Where brightest joys and virtues shine?

Queen Fortune's10 best and dearest friend,

Whose steps her choicest gifts attend?

Who may with Sun and Moon compare,

With Indra,11 Vish?u,12 Fire, and Air?

Grant, Saint divine,13 the boon I ask,

For thee, I ween, an easy task,

To whom the power is given to know

If such a man breathe here below.”

Then NÁrad, clear before whose eye

The present, past, and future lie,14

Made ready answer: “Hermit, where

Are graces found so high and rare?

Yet listen, and my tongue shall tell

In whom alone these virtues dwell.

From old IkshvÁku's15 line he came,

Known to the world by RÁma's name:

With soul subdued, a chief of might,

In Scripture versed, in glory bright,

His steps in virtue's paths are bent,

Obedient, pure, and eloquent.

In each emprise he wins success,

And dying foes his power confess.

Tall and broad-shouldered, strong of limb,

Fortune has set her mark on him.

Graced with a conch-shell's triple line,

His throat displays the auspicious sign.16

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High destiny is clear impressed

On massive jaw and ample chest,

His mighty shafts he truly aims,

And foemen in the battle tames.

Deep in the muscle, scarcely shown,

Embedded lies his collar-bone.

His lordly steps are firm and free,

His strong arms reach below his knee;17

All fairest graces join to deck

His head, his brow, his stately neck,

And limbs in fair proportion set:

The manliest form e'er fashioned yet.

Graced with each high imperial mark,

His skin is soft and lustrous dark.

Large are his eyes that sweetly shine

With majesty almost divine.

His plighted word he ne'er forgets;

On erring sense a watch he sets.

By nature wise, his teacher's skill

Has trained him to subdue his will.

Good, resolute and pure, and strong,

He guards mankin ghs

He found poor SÍtÁ, RÁma's spouse.

He gave the hapless girl a ring,

A token from her lord and king.

A pledge from her fair hand he bore;

Then battered down the garden door.

Five captains of the host he slew,

Seven sons of councillors o'erthrew;

Crushed youthful Aksha on the field,

Then to his captors chose to yield.

Soon from their bonds his limbs were free,

But honouring the high decree

Which BrahmÁ37 had pronounced of yore,

He calmly all their insults bore.

The town he burnt with hostile flame,

And spoke again with RÁma's dame,

Then swiftly back to RÁma flew

With tidings of the interview.