s rage and pride to still,
And tame the foe I would not kill.
My fury, armed with brandished trees,
Shall strike Sugriva to his knees:
Nor shall the humbled foe withstand
The blows of my avenging hand,
When, nerved by rage and pride, I beat
The traitor down beneath my feet.
Thou, love, hast lent thine own sweet aid,
And all thy tender care displayed;
Now by my life, by these who yearn
To serve thee well, I pray thee turn.
But for a while, dear dame, I go
To come triumphant o'er the foe."

Thus Bali spake in gentlest tone:
Soft arms about his neck were thrown;
Then round her lord the lady went
With sad steps slow and reverent.
She stood in solemn guise to bless
With prayers for safety and success,
Then with her train her chamber sought
By grief and racking fear distraught.

With serpent's pantings fierce and fast
King Bali from the city passed.
His glance, as each quick breath he drew,
Around to find the foe he threw,
And saw where fierce Sugriva showed
His form with golden hues that glowed,
And, as a fire resplendent, stayed
To meet his foe in arms arrayed.
When Bali, long-armed chieftain, found
Sugriva stationed on the ground,
Impelled by warlike rage he braced
His warrior garb about his waist,
And with his mighty arm raised high
Rushed at Sugriva with a cry.
But when Sugriva, fierce and bold,
Saw Bali with his chain of gold,
His arm he heaved, his hand he closed,
And face to face his foe opposed.
To him whose eyes with fury shone,
In charge impetuous rushing on,
Skilled in each warlike art and plan,
Bali with hasty words began:
"My ponderous hand, to fight addressed
With fingers clenched and arm compressed
Shall on thy death doomed brow descend
And, crashing down, thy life shall end."
He spoke; and wild with rage and pride,
The fierce Sugriva thus replied:
"Thus let my arm begin the strife
And from thy body crush the life."

Then Bali, wounded and enraged,
With furious blows the battle waged.
Sugriva seemed, with blood-streams dyed,
A hill with fountains in his side.
But with his native force unspent
A Sal tree from the earth he rent,
And like the bolt of Indra smote
On Bali's head and chest and throat.
Bruised by the blows he could not shield,
Half vanquished Bali sank and reeled,
As sinks a vessel with her freight
Borne down by overwhelming weight.
Swift as Suparna's(582) swiftest flight
In awful strength they rushed to fight:
So might the sun and moon on high
Encountering batt