a numerous band,
Who their deep study only prize,
Nor think of other exercise,
Who toil not, loving dainty fare,
Whose praises e'en the good declare--
On these be eighty cars bestowed,
And each with precious treasures load.
A thousand bulls for them suffice,
Two hundred elephants of price,
And let a thousand kine beside
The dainties of each meal provide.
The throng who sacred girdles wear,
And on Kausalya wait with care--
A thousand golden coins shall please,
Son of Sumitra, each of these.
Let all, dear Lakshman of the train
These special gifts of honour gain:
My mother will rejoice to know
Her Brahmans have been cherished so."

Then Raghu's son addressed the crowd
Who round him stood and wept aloud,
When he to all who thronged the court
Had dealt his wealth for their support:
"In Lakshman's house and mine remain,
And guard them till I come again."
To all his people sad with grief,
In loving words thus spoke their chief,
Then bade his treasure-keeper bring
Gold, silver, and each precious thing.
Then straight the servants went and bore
Back to their chief the wealth in store.
Before the people's eyes it shone,
A glorious pile to look upon.
The prince of men with Lakshman's aid
Parted the treasures there displayed,
Gave to the poor, the young, the old,
And twice-born men, the gems and gold.

A Brahman, long in evil case,
Named Trijat, born of Garga's race,
Earned ever toiling in a wood
With spade and plough his livelihood.
The youthful wife, his babes who bore,
Their indigence felt more and more.
Thus to the aged man she spake:
"Hear this my word: my counsel take.
Come, throw thy spade and plough away;
To virtuous Rama go to-day,
And somewhat of his kindness pray."

He heard the words she spoke: around
His limbs his ragged cloth he wound,
And took his journey by the road
That led to Rama's fair abode.
To the fifth court he made his way;
Nor met the Brahman check or stay.
Brighu, Angiras(309) could not be
Brighter with saintly light than he.
To Rama's presence on he pressed,
And thus the noble chief addressed:
"O Rama, poor and weak am I,
And many children round me cry.
Scant living in the woods I earn:
On me thine eye of pity turn."
And Rama, bent on sport and jest,
The suppliant Brahman thus addressed:
"O aged man, one thousand kine,
Yet undistributed, are mine.
The cows on thee will I bestow
As far as thou thy staff canst throw."

The Brahman heard. In eager haste
He bound his