Lakṣmaṇa, burning with righteous anger, confronted Sugrīva and spoke harshly, his words sharp as thunderbolts. “Surely you do not see the bow and arrows of the great Ikṣvāku prince, Rama,” he said, “weapons that resemble thunderbolts themselves. That is why you sit at ease, indulging in pleasure, without a single thought for Rama’s purpose in your mind.” As these words, blazing with the fire of indignation, resounded, Tara—her face radiant and gentle as the moon—stepped forward to address Lakṣmaṇa. She spoke with calm wisdom, her voice soft but firm: “Lakṣmaṇa, you should not speak this way. Sugrīva does not deserve such harsh words, least of all from you, to be heard by the lord of the monkeys. He is not ungrateful, nor is he deceitful or cruel. Sugrīva does not speak falsehoods, nor is he crooked, O mighty one. “Do not think that Sugrīva has forgotten the favor Rama did for him. He remembers well what Rama accomplished in battle—deeds that none other could have done. By Rama’s grace, Sugrīva has gained lasting fame, the kingdom of the monkeys, Rumā, myself, and even your own friendship, O scorcher of foes. “Having suffered greatly in the past, he now enjoys supreme happiness. But just as the sage Viśvāmitra, absorbed with Ghṛtācī, lost track of time for ten years, so too has Sugrīva been carried away by newfound joy, forgetting the proper time. Even Viśvāmitra, foremost among those who know the passage of time, failed to notice its arrival—what, then, can we expect from ordinary beings? “Rama should forgive Sugrīva now, for his body is weary and his desires not yet satisfied. Do not be overcome by anger, Lakṣmaṇa, like an ordinary man acting without certainty. Men of virtue, like you, O best of men, do not yield to anger without first reflecting. I implore you, knower of righteousness, with a focused mind: for Sugrīva’s sake, let your great anger be set aside, O faultless one. “For Rama’s sake, Sugrīva would give up Rumā, myself, Aṅgada, his kingdom, wealth, grain, and cattle—of this I am certain. Sugrīva will reunite Rama with Sītā, just as the moon rejoins Rohiṇī, after slaying that vile Rākṣasa. There are said to be hundreds of billions of Rākṣasas in Laṅkā, and thirty-six thousand hundreds of tens of thousands more. Without first defeating these formidable, shape-shifting beings, Rāvaṇa—who abducted Maithilī—cannot be slain. “Neither Sugrīva nor anyone else can defeat them alone, nor can cruel Rāvaṇa be overcome without help. This is what Vāli, the lord of the monkeys, used to say, though the tradition is not clear to me—I speak only what I have heard. The foremost of the monkeys have already been sent to summon many powerful allies for battle. Sugrīva is waiting for these mighty and valiant monkeys to arrive, so that he may fulfill Rama’s purpose. “O Saumitri, as Sugrīva arranged, today all those powerful monkeys must gather. Hundreds of thousands of bear-monkeys and tailed ones will come to you, O subduer of enemies, as well as countless millions of radiant monkeys, O descendant of Kakutstha. But now, seeing your face—angry, with bloodshot eyes—the noble monkey women are fearful, suspecting some great danger is near.” Hearing Tara’s gentle and righteous words, Lakṣmaṇa, mild in nature, accepted her counsel. Seeing this, Sugrīva—overwhelmed with fear—cast off his garment, as though it were drenched. He removed the great, many-stranded, colorful garland that hung at his neck, and, free from pride, addressed mighty-armed Lakṣmaṇa with respect, delighting him. “O Saumitri,” Sugrīva said, “splendor, fame, and the monkey kingdom were once lost to me, but by Rama’s grace, all has been restored. Who could possibly repay, even in part, such a divine one, renowned for his deeds? The righteous Rāghava will recover Sītā and slay Rāvaṇa, with only my assistance and his own power. “What need has he for help, who split seven great trees, a mountain, and the earth itself with a single arrow? When Rama draws his bow, the earth and mountains tremble at the sound—what use are allies to him? Yet I will accompany Rama as he goes to slay Rāvaṇa, the enemy, along with his followers. If, out of trust or affection, my messenger has in any way overstepped, let it be forgiven—for who among us does not err?” Hearing these words spoken by the great-souled Sugrīva, Lakṣmaṇa’s heart softened with affection. He replied, “Indeed, my brother now truly has a protector, O lord of the monkeys—especially with you, Sugrīva, as his noble guardian. With your strength and purity of character, you are truly worthy to enjoy the unsurpassed fortune of the monkey kingdom.” Thus, harmony and understanding were restored among Rama, Lakṣmaṇa, and Sugrīva, as they prepared for the great task ahead.