Sītā, her body worn thin by sorrow and fasting, gazed at Hanumān before her and spoke with a trembling heart: “You, who once cast aside your own form and appeared as an ascetic in Janasthāna, are indeed that same Rāvaṇa whom I saw. O night-wanderer, master of changing forms, you bring me distress again, though I am already so miserable. This is not right. “Yet, perhaps my suspicion is mistaken, for my heart is gladdened upon seeing you. If you have truly come as Rāma’s messenger, may good fortune be yours! O best of monkeys, tell me of Rāma, for his story is dear to me. Speak of his virtues, gentle monkey, for he is beloved to me—you draw my heart as the river’s current draws the bank. “How sweet is the happiness of dreams! Long have I been taken from my home, and now, among the forest-dwellers, I see one said to be sent by Rāghava. Even if only in a dream I could see the hero Rāghava with Lakṣmaṇa, I would not despair; even a dream would be my friend. But this does not seem a dream, for seeing a monkey in a dream is not considered auspicious, yet here, good fortune has come to me. “Is this a delusion of my mind, a vision carried by the wind, a disorder of madness, or a mirage? But no, this is not madness, nor a delusion born of madness; I am aware of myself, and of this forest-dweller as well.” Thus, Sītā pondered her own strength and weakness, considering the power of the rākṣasas to change their forms at will. She wondered if Hanumān might be Rāvaṇa in disguise. With these thoughts, slender-waisted Sītā, daughter of Janaka, remained silent and did not reply. Perceiving her doubt and resolve, Hanumān, the wise son of the Wind, offered her words that delighted her heart: “Rāma, radiant like the sun, beloved by the world like the moon, is the king of all people, like the god Vaiśravaṇa. In valor he is like the renowned Viṣṇu; he speaks truth and his words are gentle, like the god of speech. He is handsome, charming, and prosperous, like embodied Love himself; when angered, he is a mighty warrior, the foremost among great charioteers in the world. “The world finds shelter in the shade of his mighty arms. It was by luring Rāma away from the hermitage in the form of a deer that you were taken from him in a lonely place. Soon you will see the result of that, for the valiant Rāma will slay Rāvaṇa in battle. With arrows blazing like fire, released in wrath, he will destroy his foes. By him I have been sent as a messenger and have come here to you. “The mighty-armed one, having offered his respects, asked after your welfare. Rāma’s friend, the monkey king Sugrīva, also sends his greetings. The king of the foremost monkeys, together with Sugrīva and Lakṣmaṇa, always remembers your skill and virtue; Rāma constantly thinks of you. “By good fortune, you are alive, O Vaidehī, though you have come under the power of the rākṣasīs. Before long, you will see Rāma and the great chariot-warrior Lakṣmaṇa. Among the hosts of monkeys, I am Hanumān by name, a minister of Sugrīva, who possesses immeasurable strength. I entered the city of Laṅkā, having crossed the great ocean, and set my foot upon the head of the wicked Rāvaṇa. I have come to see you, relying on my valor. O lady, I am not as you suppose me to be; let your suspicion be set aside—trust my words.” Now begins the thirty-fifth sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Sundarakāṇḍa. Hearing the story of Rāma from the foremost of monkeys, Vaidehī spoke gentle words in a sweet voice: “O monkey, tell me again the marks of Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, so that sorrow may not seize me. Describe to me his stature and appearance; tell me also of his thighs and arms, and of Lakṣmaṇa as well.” Thus addressed, Hanumān, the son of the Wind, began to describe Rāma as he truly is: “Indeed, O Vaidehī, it is auspicious that you ask me about the form of your husband and of Lakṣmaṇa, O lotus-eyed one. Hear from me, O wide-eyed lady, the marks of Rāma and those of Lakṣmaṇa, which are well distinguished. “Rāma has eyes like lotus petals, a face like the full moon, endowed with beauty and kindness, O daughter of Janaka. In splendor he is like the sun, in forbearance like the earth, in wisdom equal to Bṛhaspati, and in fame like Indra. He is the protector of living beings and of his own people, the guardian of his conduct and of righteousness, a scorcher of foes. “O beautiful lady, Rāma is the protector of the world’s four orders, the establisher and enforcer of the world’s boundaries. He is radiant, greatly honored, steadfast in the vow of chastity, grateful to the virtuous, and skilled in right conduct. He is trained in royal policy, devoted to the Brāhmaṇas, wise, endowed with good character, and disciplined—a scorcher of foes. “He is trained in the Yajur Veda, honored by those who know the Vedas, and accomplished in the science of archery, the Vedas, and their branches. Broad-shouldered, mighty-armed, with a neck like a conch, a handsome face, concealed collarbones, and eyes tinged with copper—he is known among people as Rāma.