But Hanumán, while Tára, best Of splendid chiefs his thought expressed, Perceived that Báli's princely son A kingdom for himself had won. His keen eye marked in him combined The warrior's arm, the ruler's mind, And every noble gift should grace The happy sovereign of his race:
Marked how he grew with ripening age More glorious and bold and sage,-- Like the young moon that night by night Shines on with ever waxing light,-- Brave as his royal father, wise As he who counsels in the skies: Marked how, forwearied with the quest, He heeded not his liege's hest, But Tára's every word obeyed Like Indra still by Sukra swayed.
Then with his prudent speech he tried To better thoughts the prince to guide, And by division's skilful art The Vánars and the youth to part: 'Illustrious Angad, thou in fight Hast far surpassed thy father's might, Most worthy, like thy sire of old, The empire of our race to hold.
The Vánars' fickle people range From wish to wish and welcome change. Their wives and babes they will not leave And to their new-made sovereign cleave. No art, no gifts will draw away The Vánars from Sugríva's sway, Through hope of wealth, through fear of pain Still faithful will they all remain.
Thou fondly hopest in this cave The vengeance of the foe to brave. But Lakshman's arm a shower will send Of deadly shafts those walls to rend. Like Indra's bolts his shafts have power To cleave the mountain like a flower. O Angad, mark my counsel well: If in this cave thou choose to dwell,
