And thus the universe restored To Indra's rule, its ancient lord. And now because the Immortal God This spot in dwarflike semblance trod, The grove has aye been loved by me For reverence of the devotee. But demons haunt it, prompt to stay Each holy offering I would pay. Be thine, O lion-lord, to kill These giants that delight in ill. This day, beloved child, our feet Shall rest within the calm retreat; And know, thou chief of Raghu's line, My hermitage is also thine." He spoke; and soon the anchorite, With joyous looks that beamed delight, With Ráma and his brother stood Within the consecrated wood. Soon as they saw the holy man, With one accord together ran The dwellers in the sacred shade, And to the saint their reverence paid-- And offered water for his feet, The gift of honor, and a seat; And next with hospitable care They entertained the princely pair. The royal tamers of their foes Rested awhile in sweet repose-- Then to the chief of hermits sued Standing in suppliant attitude:-- "Begin, O best of saints, we pray, Initiatory rites to-day. This Perfect Grove shall be anew Made perfect, and thy words be true." Then, thus addressed, the holy man, The very glorious sage, began The high preliminary rite, Restraining sense and appetite. Calmly the youths that night reposed, And rose when morn her light disclosed-- Their morning worship paid, and took Of lustral water from the brook. Thus purified they breathed the prayer, Then greeted Viśvámitra where As celebrant he sate beside The flame with sacred oil supplied. CANTO XXXII VIŚVÁMITRA'S SACRIFICE