With a gentle and persuasive voice, Tāra spoke to Lakṣmaṇa, her words filled with wisdom and warmth. “Your mind,” she said, “is not ruled by desire, nor have you fallen prey to anger. A man consumed by longing does not consider the right place, the proper time, or what is truly righteous. So, forgive your brother, the lord of the monkey race—Sugrīva, who is dear to me. His actions are driven by desire, and, overtaken by passion, he has lost his sense of shame, O slayer of enemy heroes. Even the greatest sages, steadfast in righteousness and austerity, can be ensnared by delusion through desire. Sugrīva, as king of the monkeys, is by nature fickle—how could he not become attached to pleasures?” Having spoken these thoughtful words, Tāra, her eyes brimming with emotion, once again addressed Lakṣmaṇa, whose strength was immeasurable. Though weary, her words were for her husband’s good. “O best of men,” she continued, “Sugrīva has long since ordered preparations. Even though he is subject to desire, he is intent on fulfilling your purpose. Now, mighty monkeys of great strength—capable of taking any form—have arrived in their hundreds of thousands, from every mountain. Therefore, come, O strong-armed one; your conduct has preserved the sacred bond of friendship, and the sight of a wife remains unwavering for the virtuous.” Thus urged by Tāra, Lakṣmaṇa, the mighty-armed subduer of enemies, entered within. There, he beheld Sugrīva, radiant like the sun, seated upon an exquisite golden throne adorned with splendid coverings. Sugrīva shone with divine ornaments, his form and fame celestial, garlanded and robed in heavenly attire, unconquerable like mighty Indra himself. He was surrounded by women adorned with celestial ornaments and garlands; his eyes, reddened with excitement, made him appear as formidable as Death itself. Seated on that splendid throne, the golden-hued hero tightly embraced Rumā, yet his wide eyes turned to Saumitri—Lakṣmaṇa—whose spirit remained undiminished. As Lakṣmaṇa entered, unimpeded and still burning with anger, Sugrīva became agitated. Seeing the son of Daśaratha, his breath heavy, blazing with radiance and tormented by his brother’s distress, Sugrīva, foremost among monkeys, sprang up from his golden seat like a great, adorned banner of Indra. Rumā and the other women also rose, encircling Sugrīva like stars around the full moon. With bloodshot eyes and radiant presence, Sugrīva joined his hands in reverence, moving about and standing before Lakṣmaṇa like a great wish-fulfilling tree. Lakṣmaṇa, still angered, spoke to Sugrīva, who stood with Rumā and the gathered women—like the moon among stars. “A king endowed with strength, noble lineage, compassion, self-control, gratitude, and truthfulness is honored in the world. But if a king, established in unrighteousness, makes false promises to his benefactors, who could be more cruel than he? For breaking a promise about horses, one kills a hundred; for cows, a thousand; but for breaking a promise to a person, he destroys himself and his kin. He who, having first received help from friends, does not reciprocate, is ungrateful to all beings and deserves death, O lord of monkeys. Hear this verse, sung by Brahma and revered in all worlds, uttered in anger upon seeing ingratitude: For killing a cow, drinking liquor, theft, or breaking a vow, atonement is prescribed by the virtuous; but for ingratitude, there is no atonement. You are ignoble, ungrateful, and a liar, O monkey, for you do not reciprocate the help previously given by Rāma. Indeed, having received help from Rāma, you ought to make every effort to search for Sītā, if you wish to repay him. You are attached to worldly pleasures, false in your promises; Rāma does not recognize you as a snake disguised as a frog. By the great-hearted, compassionate Rāma, you, wicked one, have been made king of the monkeys. If you do not understand what has been done by the great-souled Rāghava, you will soon see Vāli slain by sharp arrows. The path by which Vāli was slain is not closed; keep your promise, Sugrīva, do not follow the way of Vāli. Surely you do not see the bow and those arrows of the descendant of Ikṣvāku, resembling thunderbolts; thus you enjoy pleasures at ease and do not even consider Rāma’s purpose in your mind.” As Lakṣmaṇa spoke, his words shining with the fire of righteousness, Tāra, her face radiant as the moon, gently addressed him. “Lakṣmaṇa, you should not speak in this manner; such harsh words are not deserved by Sugrīva, especially from you, to be heard by the lord of the monkeys. Sugrīva is not ungrateful, nor deceitful, nor cruel; he does not speak falsehood, nor is he crooked, O hero. The valiant Sugrīva has not forgotten the favor done to him; what Rāma accomplished in battle, which others could not, is well remembered by him. By Rāma’s grace, Sugrīva has attained lasting fame, the kingdom of the monkeys, Rumā, myself, and you, O scorcher of foes. Having endured great suffering before, he now enjoys supreme happiness; like the sage Viśvāmitra, he does not recognize the proper time. For ten years, Lakṣmaṇa, the righteous sage Viśvāmitra was absorbed with Ghṛtācī; he did not realize the passage of time.” Thus, with wisdom and compassion, Tāra sought to soothe Lakṣmaṇa’s anger and remind all present of the bonds of gratitude, the nature of desire, and the importance of patience and understanding.