Viśvāmitra, the great sage, addressed King Daśaratha with words of deep conviction and gravity. “O King,” he declared, “none but Rāma, the son of Raghu, possesses the strength to slay those two fearsome beings, who, though arrogant in their might, are bound by the inescapable noose of time. Those two are not equal to the great-souled Rāma, O tiger among kings; let not your affection for your son cloud your judgment, O ruler of men. “I assure you, those two demons shall meet their end. I know Rāma—the noble one whose valor is true. Vasiṣṭha, radiant with ascetic power, and all who are steadfast in austerity, know this as well. If you seek righteousness and supreme fame on earth, if you desire steadfastness, O king, then grant me Rāma, provided your ministers approve. Let all your counselors, led by Vasiṣṭha, give their consent, and entrust to me your son Rāma, who is dear to you and unattached. “The period of the sacrifice is ten nights. Rāma, lotus-eyed, will not be delayed a moment beyond the time required, O Rāghava, as I have promised.” Having spoken thus, the great sage Viśvāmitra, effulgent and composed, fell silent. Hearing these auspicious words, the king of kings, Daśaratha, was overcome with sorrow. His body trembled, and he nearly fainted. Regaining his senses, he rose, filled with fear and anxiety. The sage’s words pierced his heart and mind, and the great, noble king, deeply troubled, wavered and stood up from his seat. Listen now as the next chapter unfolds. Daśaratha, the tiger among kings, remained insensible for a moment after hearing Viśvāmitra’s words. When he recovered, he spoke, his voice laden with concern: “My Rāma, lotus-eyed, is not yet sixteen years old; I do not see him fit for battle with the Rākṣasas. I command a great army, an Akṣauhiṇī, and with this force, I shall go and confront those night-roaming demons myself. “My servants are valiant and mighty, skilled in the use of weapons; they are fit to fight the hosts of Rākṣasas. Please, do not take Rāma. I myself, bow in hand, will stand at the forefront and protect you. As long as I live, I shall fight those night-dwellers. Your vow will be fulfilled without hindrance, and I will ensure your safety; I will go there—do not take Rāma. “He is but a boy, untrained in knowledge, unfamiliar with strength and weakness, and not yet endowed with the power of weapons or the skill of battle. He is not fit to face the Rākṣasas, who fight with deceit. Moreover, I cannot bear to be separated from Rāma, not even for a moment. To live without him is unthinkable, O best of sages. But if you insist on taking Rāghava, then take me as well, accompanied by my fourfold army. O Kauśika, I am already sixty thousand years old. “He was obtained after great difficulty; do not take Rāma. Of my four sons, my love for him is greatest. You should not take Rāma, the eldest and foremost in righteousness. Tell me, what is the power of those Rākṣasas? Whose sons are they, and who are they? How strong are they, and who protects them, O best of sages? How should Rāma oppose them? Should I, with my own forces or with cunning warriors, confront them in battle? Tell me everything—how should I face them in war? For one must stand firm against those of wicked intent, and the Rākṣasas are exceedingly proud of their strength.” Hearing these words, Viśvāmitra replied, “There is a Rākṣasa named Rāvaṇa, born in the lineage of Paulastya. Granted a boon by Brahmā, he greatly troubles the three worlds. He is immensely powerful, surrounded by many Rākṣasas, and is regarded as their lord. He is the brother of Vaiśravaṇa and the son of the sage Viśravas. Yet, O mighty king, Rāvaṇa himself does not directly disrupt the sacrifice. At his urging, two Rākṣasas of immense strength—Mārīca and Subāhu—have been sent to disturb the sacrifice. “Therefore, O knower of righteousness, show favor to my request. I am of little fortune, and you, revered one, are like a deity to me. Gods, Dānavas, Gandharvas, Yakṣas, birds, and serpents cannot withstand Rāvaṇa; how, then, can humans face him in battle? Rāvaṇa saps the strength of even the mighty. Thus, I am unable to fight him or his forces. Even with my sons and my own strength, O best of sages, I cannot withstand in battle one who is like an immortal and skilled in warfare. “O Brāhmaṇa, I will not give my young son, nor will I give the boy, though my two sons are as mighty as Sunda and Upasunda in battle. Mārīca and Subāhu, who disrupt the sacrifice, are themselves mighty and well-trained; I will not give my son. With my friends and allies, I will go to fight one of them; otherwise, I implore you, along with your kinsmen, to understand.” As Daśaratha spoke thus to the chief of the twice-born, a great anger arose within Viśvāmitra, the son of Kuśika. Like fire kindled and brightened with ghee in a sacrifice, the sage’s wrath blazed forth. Listen now to the next chapter in this sacred story. Hearing the king’s words, choked with affection, the sage Kauśika, his anger now fully kindled, replied to Daśaratha, his voice resonant with the force of his ascetic power.