THE RAPE OF SITA. "Ravana, finding it in vain to hope to succeed without the aid of stratagem, took with him an assistant sorcerer, disguised as a deer; and as Rama took great pleasure in the chase, it was not difficult for the deer to lure him from his cottage in pursuit. He did not leave his beloved Sita without charging Lakshman, his brother, to remain in charge; but the wily deer knew how to defeat his precaution, and when transfixed by Rama's arrow he cried out in the voice of Rama, “Oh, Lakshman, save me!" Sita heard the cry, and entreated Lakshman to fly to his brother's rescue. He was unwilling to go, but yielded to her earnestness and she was left alone." MRS. SPEIR, Life in Ancient India. As, when the sun and moon their empire leave, So Ravan, watching for the lovely prize His form concealed in roaming Brahman's guise― Far from her guardians, of all aid bereft. All life was husht, and, as the fiend came near, No leaflet stirred, the wind was still through fear; And his red eye held, powerless to flee, The trembling waters of Godaveri. Unholy guest in holy guise he came, Close to the side of Rama's mourning dame : Like a dark well with treacherous weeds o'ergrown, Like Saturn when his baleful rays are thrown Upon the fairest star of all the sky. Thus the Night-rover with his evil eye Looked on the lonely lady as she wept Within her leafy home. Awhile he kept Upon the splendour of white teeth, the red Then Ravan cried, pierced by Love's fiery dart : "Speak, marvellous beauty, tell me who thou art : All lonely here, in silken robes arrayed, Wearing a lotus wreath thy brows to shade: Fairer and brighter than the finest gold? Or sweet Desire, young Love's voluptuous queen? Red are thy lips, thy teeth are small and white; And fancy faintly pictures all the rest. Sweet queen, these eyes have never seen till now Where wild fiends roam, changing their form at will. On some smooth terrace should thy couch be spread, And priceless gems sparkle upon thy neck; Whose and who art thou? Tell me, whence and why Thou comest hither, with no guardian nigh.” He ceased. The lady, by his garb beguiled, And, still intent on hospitable care, Brought forth the choicest of her woodland fare. To see her lord returning through the wood; The fatal oath, and grief that came too late. She spoke. The stranger thundered in reply: "Terror of men and Gods and worlds am I, Ravan, whose will the giant hosts obey. Since I have seen thee, lovely one, to-day, My city, Lanka, like a glittering crown, Then from her breast the noble fury broke ; With flashing eye and quivering lip she spoke : "Me, me, the faithful wife of Rama, him Before whose glory Indra's fame is dim: Rama, who quails not in the battle-shock, |