National Epics | Page 6

varying results, it
was decided to determine it by single combat between Ravana and
Rama. Then even the gods were terrified at the fierceness of the
conflict. At each shot Rama's mighty bow cut off a head of the demon,
which at once grew back, and the hero was in despair until he
remembered the all-powerful arrow given him by Brahma.
As the demon fell by this weapon, flowers rained from heaven upon the
happy victor, and his ears were ravished with celestial music.
Touched by the grief of Ravana's widows, Rama ordered his foe a
splendid funeral, and then sought the conquered city.
Sita was led forth, beaming with happiness at finding herself re-united

to her husband; but her happiness was destined to be of short duration.
Rama received her with coldness and with downcast eyes, saying that
she could no longer be his wife, after having dwelt in the zenana of the
demon. Sita assured him of her innocence; but on his continuing to
revile her, she ordered her funeral pyre to be built, since she would
rather die by fire than live despised by Rama. The sympathy of all the
bystanders was with Sita, but Rama saw her enter the flames without a
tremor. Soon Agni, the god of fire, appeared, bearing the uninjured Sita
in his arms. Her innocence thus publicly proved by the trial by fire, she
was welcomed by Rama, whose treatment she tenderly forgave.
The conquest made, the demon destroyed, and Sita restored, Rama
returned in triumph to Ayodhya, and assumed the government. The city
was prosperous, the people were happy, and for a time all went well. It
was not long, however, before whispers concerning Sita's long abode in
Ceylon spread abroad, and some one whispered to Rama that a famine
in the country was due to the guilt of Sita, who had suffered the
caresses of the demon while in captivity in Ceylon. Forgetful of the
trial by fire, forgetful of Sita's devotion to him through weal and woe,
the ungrateful Rama immediately ordered her to the forest in which
they had spent together the happy years of their exile.
Without a murmur the unhappy Sita, alone and unbefriended, dragged
herself to the forest, and, torn with grief of body and spirit, found the
hermitage of Valmiki, where she gave birth to twin sons, Lava and
Kuça. Here she reared them, with the assistance of the hermit, who was
their teacher, and under whose care they grew to manhood, handsome
and strong.
It chanced about the time the youths were twenty years old, that Rama,
who had grown peevish and disagreeable with age, began to think the
gods were angered with him because he had killed Ravana, who was
the son of a Brahman. Determined to propitiate them by means of the
great sacrifice, he caused a horse to be turned loose in the forest. When
his men went to retake it, at the end of the year, it was caught by two
strong and beautiful youths who resisted all efforts to capture them. In
his rage Rama went to the forest in person, only to learn that the youths
were his twin sons, Lava and Kuça. Struck with remorse, Rama
recalled the sufferings of his wife Sita, and on learning that she was at
the hermitage of Valmiki, ordered her to come to him, that he might

take her to him again, having first caused her to endure the trial by fire
to prove her innocence to all his court.
Sita had had time to recover from the love of her youth, and the
prospect of life with Rama, without the couleur de rose of youthful
love, was not altogether pleasant. At first, she even refused to see him;
but finally, moved by the appeals of Valmiki and his wife, she clad
herself in her richest robes, and, young and beautiful as when first won
by Rama, she stood before him. Not deigning to look in his face, she
appealed to the earth. If she had never loved any man but Rama, if her
truth and purity were known to the earth, let it open its bosom and take
her to it. While the armies stood trembling with horror, the earth
opened, a gorgeous throne appeared, and the goddess of earth, seated
upon it, took Sita beside her and conveyed her to the realms of eternal
happiness, leaving the too late repentant Rama to wear out his
remaining years in shame and penitence.

SELECTIONS FROM THE RÂMÂYANA.
THE DESCENT OF THE GANGES.
Sagara, an early king of Ayodhya, had sixty thousand sons, whom he
sent out one day to recover a horse that had been designed for the great
sacrifice, but had been stolen by a rakshasa. Having searched the earth