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56Canto LVI.ChitrakútaThen Ráma, when the morning rose, Called Lakshmaṇ gently from repose: “Awake, the pleasant voices hear Of forest birds that warble near. Scourge of thy foes, no longer stay; The hour is come to speed away.” The slumbering prince unclosed his eyes When thus his brother bade him rise, Compelling, at the timely cry, Fatigue, and sleep, and rest to fly. The brothers rose and Sítá too; Pure water from the stream they drew, Paid morning rites, then followed still The road to Chitrakúṭa's hill. Then Ráma as he took the road With Lakshmaṇ, while the morning, glowed, To