Hungry and insatiable, Kumbhakarṇa seized great quantities of meat, quenching his thirst with blood, and, as the terror of Indra himself, he drank vessels filled with fat and strong liquor until he was satisfied. Sensing his contentment, the night-dwelling rākṣasas rose and, bowing low with reverence, surrounded him on all sides. His eyes heavy with sleep, his vision clouded, Kumbhakarṇa looked around and saw the gathering of rākṣasas before him. Foremost among the rākṣasas, Kumbhakarṇa comforted them, his mind still astonished at being roused from slumber, and addressed them: “For what reason have you awakened me so urgently? Is all well with our king? There is no danger here, is there? Or has some great peril arisen from elsewhere, that you have hastily disturbed my rest? Today, I will uproot any fear that threatens the king of the rākṣasas—even Mahendra himself I will tear apart, or I will cool the very fire, if need be. Surely, I would not be awakened for a trivial cause; therefore, speak truly and tell me why you have roused me.” As Kumbhakarṇa, destroyer of foes, spoke in agitation, Yūpākṣa, the king’s counselor, approached with joined palms and replied: “O mighty one, we have no fear from the gods at any time; but now, O king, a terrible danger from men oppresses us. We are not threatened by Daityas or Dānavas, but the fear that has come upon us from a man, O king, is of a different kind. Lanka is surrounded by monkeys as large as mountains; because of Sītā’s abduction, we are greatly threatened by Rāma. Once, this city was burned by a single monkey, and Prince Akṣa, with his retinue and elephants, was slain. Even the lord of the rākṣasas himself, the Paulastya, scourge of the gods, was forced to retreat in battle by Rāma, radiant as the sun. What neither gods nor demons nor titans could do, Rāma has now accomplished—our king has been brought low, his life only just spared.” Hearing of his brother’s defeat, Kumbhakarṇa’s eyes widened with anger. He spoke fiercely to Yūpākṣa: “Today itself, Yūpākṣa, I will conquer the entire army of monkeys, along with Lakṣmaṇa and Rāghava, in battle; then I will go to see Rāvaṇa. I will satisfy the rākṣasas with the flesh and blood of the monkeys, and I myself will drink the blood of Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa.” Hearing these prideful, wrathful words, Mahodara, foremost among the rākṣasa warriors, with joined palms, addressed Kumbhakarṇa: “Having heard Rāvaṇa’s words, and considering both his virtues and faults, you, mighty-armed one, will surely defeat the enemies in battle.” Encouraged by Mahodara, Kumbhakarṇa, radiant and mighty, set out at once, surrounded by rākṣasas. The hosts of rākṣasas, having awakened the fearsome-eyed, terrifying Kumbhakarṇa, swiftly made their way to the palace of Ten-headed Rāvaṇa. Approaching him as he sat upon his exalted throne, they bowed with joined hands and said, “Kumbhakarṇa, your brother, lord of the rākṣasas, is awake. How should he proceed? Should he come here to you, or will you go to him?” Rāvaṇa, undaunted, replied, “I wish to see him here; let him be honored as is proper.” The rākṣasas, bowing, returned to Kumbhakarṇa and relayed Rāvaṇa’s command: “The king, foremost among all rākṣasas, wishes to see you; prepare yourself and gladden your brother.” Kumbhakarṇa, irresistible in might, accepted, saying, “So be it,” and sprang up from his couch. He washed his face, bathed joyfully, and, still thirsty, urged his attendants to bring him strength-giving liquor. At Rāvaṇa’s command, the rākṣasas quickly brought him various kinds of liquor and food. Kumbhakarṇa drank two thousand jars, and, slightly intoxicated, set out, roaring with energy and strength. As he marched, enraged, he shone like Death at the end of time. The earth trembled with his every step as he advanced toward his brother’s palace, surrounded by rākṣasa forces. His radiant form illuminated the royal road like the thousand-rayed sun shining upon the earth. Adorned with a garland of hands, he proceeded, resembling the self-born entering Indra’s abode. The vanaras, forest-dwellers stationed outside, suddenly beheld Kumbhakarṇa—slayer of enemies—on the royal road, his immeasurable form towering like a mountain peak. They trembled, as did their troop leaders. Some, seeking refuge, fled to Rāma for protection; others, distressed, fell down; some collapsed in terror, while others lay upon the ground, overwhelmed by fear. Seeing him, crowned and resplendent like the sun, the vanaras, beholding his immense and wondrous form, scattered in terror in every direction. Now begins the sixty-first sarga. Rāma, of great energy and valor, took up his bow and saw the crowned, gigantic Kumbhakarṇa. Beholding that foremost of rākṣasas, mountain-like in stature, advancing as if traversing the sky—like Nārāyaṇa of old—Rāma saw him, dark as a rain-filled cloud and adorned with golden armlets. At the sight of Kumbhakarṇa, the great army of vanaras fled once again, overcome with fear.