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Gods and spirits of the air,

      Serpents and fiends, the conflict dare.

      I’ll give thee as a pledge of love

      The mystic arms they use above,

      For worthy thou to have revealed

The weapons I have learnt to wield.1

      First, son of Raghu, shall be thine

      The arm of Vengeance, strong, divine:

      The arm of Fate, the arm of Right,

      And Vishṇu’s arm of awful might:

      That, before which no foe can stand,

      The thunderbolt of Indra’s hand;

      And Śiva’s trident, sharp and dread,

      And that dire weapon Brahmá‘s Head.

      And two fair clubs, O royal child,

      One Charmer and one Pointed styled

      With flame of lambent fire aglow,

      On thee, O Chieftain, I bestow.

      And Fate’s dread net and Justice’ noose

      That none may conquer, for thy use:

      And the great cord, renowned of old,

      Which Varuṇ ever loves to hold.

      Take these two thunderbolts, which I

      Have got for thee, the Moist and Dry.

      Here Śiva’s dart to thee I yield,

      And that which Vishṇu wont to wield.

      I give to thee the arm of Fire,

      Desired by all and named the Spire.

      To thee I grant the Wind-God’s dart,

      Named Crusher, O thou pure of heart,

      This arm, the Horse’s Head, accept,

      And this, the Curlew’s Bill yclept,

      And these two spears, the best e’er flew,

      Named the Invincible and True.

      And arms of fiends I make thine own,

      Skull-wreath and mace that smashes bone.

      And Joyous, which the spirits bear,

      Great weapon of the sons of air.

      Brave offspring of the best of lords,

      I give thee now the Gem of swords,

      And offer next, thine hand to arm,

      The heavenly bards’ beloved charm.

      Now with two arms I thee invest

      Of never-ending Sleep and Rest,

      With weapons of the Sun and Rain,

      And those that dry and burn amain;

      And strong Desire with conquering touch,

      The dart that Káma prizes much.

      I give the arm of shadowy powers

      That bleeding flesh of men devours.

      I give the arms the God of Gold

      And giant fiends exult to hold.

      This smites the foe in battle-strife,

      And takes his fortune, strength, and life.

      I give the arms called False and True,

      And great Illusion give I too;

      The hero’s arm called Strong and Bright

      That spoils the foeman’s strength in fight.

      I give thee as a priceless boon

      The Dew, the weapon of the Moon,

      And add the weapon, deftly planned,

      That strengthens Viśvakarmá‘s hand.

      The Mortal dart whose point is chill,

      And Slaughter, ever sure to kill;

      All these and other arms, for thou

      Art very dear, I give thee now.

      Receive these weapons from my hand,

      Son of the noblest in the land.”

      Facing the east, the glorious saint

      Pure from all spot of earthly taint,

      To Ráma, with delighted mind,

      That noble host of spells consigned.

      He taught the arms, whose lore is won

      Hardly by Gods, to Raghu’s son.

      He muttered low the spell whose call

      Summons those arms and rules them all

      And, each in visible form and frame,

      Before the monarch’s son they came.

      They stood and spoke in reverent guise

      To Ráma with exulting cries:

      “O noblest child of Raghu, see,

      Thy ministers and thralls are we.”

      With joyful heart and eager hand

      Ráma received the wondrous band,

      And thus with words of welcome cried:

      “Aye present to my will abide.”

      Then hasted to the saint to pay

      Due reverence, and pursued his way.

1 “The whole of this Canto together with the following one, regards the belief, formerly prevalent in India, that by virtue of certain spells, to be learnt and muttered, secret knowledge and superhuman powers might be acquired. To this the poet has already alluded in Canto xxiii. These incorporeal weapons are partly represented according to the fashion of those ascribed to the Gods and the different orders of demi-gods, partly are the mere creations of fancy; and it would not be easy to say what idea the poet had of them in his own mind, or what powers he meant to assign to each.” Schlegel.

Canto 30. The Mysterious Powers.1

      Pure, with glad cheer and joyful breast,

      Of those mysterious arms possessed,

      Ráma, now passing on his way,

      Thus to the saint began to say:

      “Lord of these mighty weapons, I

      Can scarce be harmed by Gods on high;

      Now, best of saints, I long to gain

      The powers that can these arms restrain.”

      Thus spoke the prince. The sage austere,

      True to his vows, from evil clear,

      Called forth the names of those great charms

      Whose powers restrain the deadly arms.

      “Receive thou True and Truly famed,

      And Bold and Fleet: the weapons named

      Warder and Progress, swift of pace,

      Averted-head and Drooping-face;

      The Seen, and that which Secret flies;

      The weapon of the thousand eyes;

      Ten-headed, and the

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