Lakṣmaṇa, ever devoted to his brother, spoke to Rāma with deep concern, questioning the nature of righteousness and its consequences. “O Rāghava,” he said, “if wrongdoers are slain by unrighteous means, then when unrighteousness is destroyed by the act of killing, whom will it destroy?” He pondered further: “If one is slain according to the prescribed law, and another is slain by him, then the ordinance is implicated by the act, yet he is not tainted by sin.” Lakṣmaṇa’s mind wrestled with the mysteries of dharma. “How can one attain the highest by righteousness, O subduer of foes, when the response is unseen, unmanifest, or nonexistent? If truth were truly supreme among the virtuous, and falsehood did not exist for you, then what has come to you in this way would not be fitting. Or, if the weak and impotent are followed by righteousness, then the weak, who have abandoned propriety, are not to be served—this is my view. If righteousness is an attribute of strength, manifest in valor, then abandon righteousness and act by strength, just as you would by righteousness. But if truthfulness is indeed the highest righteousness, O scorcher of foes, then why, when you do not act falsely, are you not bound without you?” He continued, his thoughts turning to the actions of the gods. “If righteousness or unrighteousness truly existed, O scorcher of foes, then Indra, wielder of the thunderbolt, would not have slain the sage. Righteousness, when allied with unrighteousness, leads to destruction, O Rāghava; a man does whatever he wishes, O descendant of Kakutstha. And this is my view, dear one: if this is righteousness, O Rāghava, then when you abandoned the kingdom, you cut off the very root of righteousness.” Lakṣmaṇa then reflected on the importance of wealth. “From ever-increasing and accumulating wealth, all actions arise, just as rivers flow from mountains. For a man deprived of wealth and of little understanding, all actions are cut off, like streams in summer. Thus, one who abandons wealth, seeking pleasure and comfort, commits sin in order to obtain happiness, and then fault arises. He who has wealth has friends; he who has wealth has relatives; he who has wealth is a man in the world; he who has wealth is learned. He who has wealth is powerful; he who has wealth is wise; he who has wealth is greatly fortunate; he who has wealth excels in virtues.” He summarized his reasoning, saying, “I have described the faults that arise from abandoning wealth; it was by such reasoning, steadfast one, that you resolved to renounce the kingdom. For him whose wealth is devoted to righteousness, desire, and purpose, all things are favorable; but for one without wealth, seeking wealth, nothing can be attained by searching. Joy, desire, pride, righteousness, anger, tranquility, and self-control—all these arise from wealth, O lord of men. For those who walk in righteousness, when this wealth perishes, it is not seen in you—just as stars are not seen on a cloudy day.” Lakṣmaṇa’s sorrow deepened as he recalled Rāma’s exile. “When you, O hero, went into exile, obeying your teacher’s command, your wife—dearer to you than life—was carried off by a demon. Therefore, O hero, today I will remove the great suffering caused by Indrajit through my actions; so rise up, O Rāghava. Rise up, O tiger among men, long-armed and firm in your vows! Why do you, the great-souled one, not recognize your own self?” He vowed with fierce resolve, “O faultless one, for your sake, seeing the death of Janaka’s daughter, I am enraged; I will strike down Lanka, with its chariots, elephants, horses, and all the lord of demons, with a shower of arrows.” Now begins the eighty-fourth sarga in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Yuddha Kāṇḍa. While Lakṣmaṇa was consoling Rāma, Vibhīṣaṇa arrived, having stationed the battalions in their proper places. He was accompanied by four heroic warriors, armed with various weapons, resembling leaders of elephant herds, dark as clouds of collyrium. Approaching the great-souled Rāghava, who was overwhelmed with grief, Vibhīṣaṇa also saw the monkeys, their eyes filled with tears. He saw Rāma, the delight of the Ikṣvāku line, fallen into delusion, resting on Lakṣmaṇa’s lap. Seeing Rāma, ashamed and tormented by grief, Vibhīṣaṇa, his heart afflicted with inner sorrow, asked, “What is this?” Sugrīva and the monkeys, seeing Vibhīṣaṇa’s face, turned their attention to Lakṣmaṇa, whose voice was choked with tears as he spoke with difficulty. When Rāghava heard from Hanumān that Sītā had been slain by Indrajit, gentle one, he then fell into a swoon. As Saumitri was speaking, Vibhīṣaṇa stopped him and addressed the unconscious Rāma with weighty words. “What Hanumān told you, appearing as a man in distress, I consider unfitting—like the drying up of the ocean. But I know the intention of the evil-minded Rāvaṇa regarding Sītā, O mighty-armed one; he will not kill her. Though I, wishing your welfare, have repeatedly pleaded with him to release Vaidehī, he did not heed my words. Neither by conciliation, nor by gifts, nor by division, nor certainly by battle, could she even be seen by anyone else.” Vibhīṣaṇa explained further, “That demon, having bewildered the monkeys, departed; know that mighty-armed one to be the daughter of Janaka, fashioned by illusion. Today, having reached the shrine at Nikumbhilā, he will perform a sacrifice; for having offered oblations, he has come, even with the gods and Vasava. This son of Rāvaṇa becomes unconquerable in battle; surely, by his act of delusion, this illusion has been employed. Seeking to hinder the valor of the monkeys there, let us go with our army until that is completed.” Thus, the companions of Rāma, united in grief and resolve, prepared themselves to confront Indrajit and the trials that lay ahead, determined to restore righteousness and rescue Sītā from the clutches of illusion and despair.