As Hanuman entered the opulent palace of Ravana, a wave of fragrance greeted him. The air was saturated with the delicate scents of mango and campaka blossoms, blended with the finest bakula flowers and mingled with the aroma of sumptuous foods and drinks. The breath of Ravana himself, issuing forth from his great mouth as he lay in deep slumber, seemed to fill the entire house with its presence. Ravana appeared magnificent, adorned with a crown set with pearls and jewels, though it sat slightly askew upon his head. His face shone brilliantly, illuminated by radiant earrings. His broad chest, smeared with red sandalwood and graced by a beautiful necklace, stood out with impressive fullness and width. Silk garments, pale and scattered, covered his wounded side, and he was wrapped in a costly yellow upper garment. Breathing deeply like a serpent, Ravana’s form resembled a heap of black beans, and he lay at the edge of the great Ganges like a mighty elephant at rest. The entire chamber was aglow, illuminated in all directions by four golden lamps, making his body shine like a cloud lit by flashes of lightning. At Ravana’s feet, Hanuman saw the wives of the great-souled lord of the Rakshasas, beloved by their husband, resting in his house. Their faces shone like the moon, adorned with splendid earrings, their garlands and ornaments unwithered—a sight that captivated the monkey chief. These women, skilled in dance and music, were seated on the arms of Ravana, adorned with fine ornaments, resting peacefully. Hanuman’s gaze took in the golden earrings and armlets set with diamonds and cat’s-eye gems at the ends of the women’s ears. Their moon-like faces, adorned with lovely earrings, made the palace shine as brilliantly as the night sky filled with stars. Exhausted by wine and play, these slender-waisted women lay asleep in various places throughout the hall. Among them, one woman, skilled in dance, lay asleep with her limbs gracefully arranged, her beautiful body radiant in its fine complexion. Another, embracing a lute, slept shining like a lotus afloat on a great river, clinging to a raft. A dark-eyed woman lay asleep beside a drum, shining like a loving mother with her young child. A woman with lovely breasts had set aside her drum and lay sleeping, as if a passionate lover, after long union, embraced her beloved. One lotus-eyed woman, holding her lute close, slept as a passionate woman would with her dearest beloved, her desire fulfilled. Another, devoted to the art of dance, holding her vipanchī, had fallen asleep like a radiant woman with her lover. Yet another, her eyes intoxicated, lay asleep, her limbs gently striking the drum, which gleamed like gold. A slender-waisted, blameless woman, exhausted from intoxication, slept with a small drum held between her arms and at her side. Another woman, attached to her drum, lay asleep embracing it, just as a radiant woman would embrace her young calf. A lotus-eyed woman, her mind deluded by intoxication, lay asleep, pressing a tambourine crushed by the embrace of her arms. Another radiant woman, having cast aside her pitcher, lay asleep like a garlanded creeper in spring, cleansed and adorned with flowers. One young woman, overcome by the power of sleep, lay asleep, embracing her breasts with both hands, which were like golden pitchers. Another lotus-eyed woman, with a face like the full moon, lay asleep, embracing another shapely-hipped woman, overwhelmed by intoxication. Noble women, embracing various musical instruments, lay asleep, pressing them to their breasts as lovers would their beloveds. Among these women, lying apart on a splendid couch, Hanuman saw a woman of surpassing beauty. Adorned with ornaments set with pearls and gems, she seemed to enhance the palace’s splendor with her own radiance. There, Hanuman beheld Mandodari, fair as gold, the cherished queen of the inner chambers, lying in beauty. Seeing her adorned, the mighty-armed son of the wind thought, “This must be Sita,” judging by her beauty, youth, and grace. Filled with great joy, Hanuman rejoiced. He clapped, kissed his tail, played, sang, and leapt; he climbed pillars and fell to the ground, displaying the nature of monkeys. Let the eleventh chapter now be heard in the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, in the Sundara Kanda. Having set aside that thought, the great monkey remained there and entered into another reflection concerning Sita. He reasoned that the radiant lady, separated from Rama, would not wish to sleep, nor to eat, nor to adorn herself, nor to partake of drink. She would not approach any other man, not even a lord among the gods, for truly, there is no one among the immortals equal to Rama. Concluding, “This is another,” the best of monkeys, eager to see Sita, wandered further in that hall of drinking. He saw some women exhausted from play, others from singing, and others from dancing; likewise, some were overcome by drink. Some stood by drums and cymbals and on platforms for jesting; others reclined on the chief couches. Hanuman beheld Ravana, surrounded by a thousand women adorned with ornaments, skilled in conversation and song, and pleasing in form.