Hanuman, the mighty monkey, ventured deep into the heart of Lanka, his eyes keenly observing the city’s wonders and mysteries. He beheld the inhabitants in all their diversity: some were misshapen and strange, others splendid and handsome, bearing banners and flags, wielding various weapons. Among them were warriors armed with spears, swords, trees, thunderbolts, slings, and nooses, each ready for battle. He saw many rakshasas adorned with garlands, fragrant unguents, and glittering ornaments, dressed in a multitude of attires, moving about as they pleased. Sharp spears and mighty thunderbolts were carried by vigilant rakshasas—hundreds of thousands, tireless in their duty. Hanuman’s gaze fell upon the house before the inner apartments, the dwelling designated by the lord of the rakshasas. He beheld Ravana’s renowned residence, established atop a mountain, encircled by moats adorned with lotus garlands. The palace was surrounded by ramparts of divine appearance, resounding with celestial music, resembling the realm of the gods. The city echoed with the neighing of noble horses, the clamor of ornaments, and was filled with splendid chariots, vehicles, aerial cars, and elephants. At the beautiful gates stood four-tusked elephants, like masses of white clouds, adorned and stationed, accompanied by intoxicated beasts and birds. Thousands of mighty rakshasas guarded the palace, protected by Ravana himself. Hanuman entered this magnificent house, encircled by golden and jeweled railings, adorned with pearls and gems, fragrant with the finest aloe and sandalwood. As the fifth sarga of Sundara Kanda concluded, Hanuman, wise and observant, looked up and saw the moon radiant in the sky. Its silvery light spread across Lanka, rising and setting again and again, like a maddened bull wandering a pasture. The cool-rayed moon destroyed the sins of the world, stirred the great ocean, and illuminated all beings as it approached. Lakshmi herself seemed to shine beautifully with the moon in the sky, as she does atop Mandara, in the ocean at dusk, or among lotuses in water. The moon shone in the heavens, like a swan in a silver cage, a lion in a Mandara cave, or a hero atop a proud elephant. Spotless and radiant, free from dew, frost, and the shadow of great planets, the moon’s brilliance was unblemished. Just as a lion shines upon reaching a rocky plateau, an elephant in a great forest, or a king upon attaining his kingdom, so did the moon shine forth. Blessed twilight, radiant as heaven, dispelled darkness at the moon’s rising, drove away the growing rakshasas and flesh-eaters, and soothed the mind delighted by thoughts of Rama. The strains of stringed instruments, pleasing to the ear, resounded through the city. Noble women slept with their husbands, well-conducted, while night-wanderers of wondrous and fierce conduct set out to revel. Hanuman saw clans intoxicated and disordered, crowded with chariots, horses, splendid seats, and filled with the glory of heroes. The rakshasas reproached each other excessively, tossed their stout arms about, uttered the incoherent speech of the intoxicated, and insulted one another. They flung their chests about, tossed their limbs upon their beloveds, displayed their various forms, and brandished their strong bows. Hanuman saw beloved women embracing, others sleeping; some with beautiful faces laughing, others sighing deeply in anger. The city shone with great elephants trumpeting, well-honored and well-seated, and with heroes sighing—like pools with serpents breathing out. He observed demons who were foremost in intelligence, with splendid names, devoted to their duties, leaders of the world, of various kinds and beautiful appellations. Seeing those handsome ones, endowed with many virtues befitting their nature, shining, Hanuman rejoiced; yet he also saw some who were deformed. Then he saw women worthy of the highest honor, pure in disposition, of great dignity, attached to their beloveds and to drinking, shining like stars in their own nature. Some women, radiant, were embraced by their lovers at midnight; others were embraced by companions, just as birds are embraced by other birds. He saw women seated on upper terraces, comfortably reclining in their beloveds' laps, devoted to their husbands, intent on righteousness; and others seated with desire. Some, uncovered, shone with the hue of golden lotuses; some, of supreme worth, with the color of refined gold; others with the luster of moonlight, their beauty diminished by separation from their beloved, yet with lovely limbs. Having attained their dear ones, delightful to the mind, filled with great joy and happiness, rejoicing in their homes, supremely charming, Hanuman beheld the women. He saw faces radiant as the moon, with curved, beautiful eyelashes and lovely eyes, adorned with garlands of ornaments, charming as garlands of a hundred lotus-lakes. Yet, amidst all these, Hanuman did not see Sita—supremely noble, born in a royal house, slender as a blossoming vine, noble in mind. He saw her established on the ancient path, with eyes like those of a doe, possessed by longing, her husband's glorious mind entered into her, always distinguished above all other women. Afflicted by heat, her throat stained with tears, once adorned with the finest and most precious necklaces, with beautiful eyelashes and a deeply colored throat, Sita seemed like a blue-necked bird dancing in the forest. She was like a faint line of the moon, indistinct; like a golden streak covered with dust; like a scarred and healed mark; like a line of cloud bent by the wind. Not seeing Sita, the wife of Rama, the foremost among speakers and men, Hanuman was overcome by sorrow after a long time, like a slow one after a brief respite. As the sixth chapter begins, Hanuman, assuming whatever form he wished, moved freely among the palaces, exploring Lanka with great agility, determined to continue his quest for Sita.