As the revered sage Viśvāmitra stood before King Daśaratha, he addressed him with unwavering conviction. “O tiger among kings,” he declared, “those two are not equal to the great-souled Rāma. Let not your affection for your son cloud your judgment, O ruler. I assure you—those two demons will be slain. I know Rāma, whose valor is true, and whose greatness is recognized by Vasiṣṭha, radiant in ascetic power, and all those steadfast in austerity. If you seek righteousness and supreme fame upon this earth, if you desire steadfastness, O king, then grant me Rāma—if your ministers approve.” Viśvāmitra continued, “Let your counselors, led by Vasiṣṭha, consent, and give me your son Rāma, who is dear to you yet unattached. The sacrifice will last for ten nights, and Rāma, lotus-eyed, will not be delayed beyond that time, O Rāghava, as I have said.” With these words, the great and radiant sage fell silent. The king listened to Viśvāmitra’s auspicious words, but sorrow seized him. He trembled and became faint, overwhelmed by fear and anxiety. Regaining his senses, he rose, his mind troubled and wavering, pierced by the sage’s request. Now begins the twentieth sarga. Listen. Hearing Viśvāmitra’s words, King Daśaratha was momentarily insensible. When he recovered, he spoke with a heavy heart: “My Rāma, lotus-eyed, is not yet sixteen years old. I do not see him fit for battle with the Rākṣasas. I command an Akṣauhiṇī, a vast army, and with this force I shall go and fight those night-roaming demons myself. These servants of mine are valiant and mighty, skilled in weapons; they are fit to fight the hosts of Rākṣasas. You should not take Rāma.” He pleaded, “I myself, bow in hand, will protect you at the forefront of battle. As long as I live, I will fight the night-dwellers. Your vow will be fulfilled without hindrance and kept safe; I will go there—do not take Rāma. He is a boy, untrained in knowledge, unfamiliar with strength or weakness, unskilled in battle and the power of weapons. He is not fit to face the Rākṣasas, for they fight deceitfully. Separated from Rāma, I cannot endure even for a moment.” Daśaratha’s voice faltered with emotion. “To live, O best of sages, I cannot bear to be without Rāma. But if you, O noble one, wish to take Rāghava, then take him with me, accompanied by my fourfold army. O Kauśika, I am already sixty thousand years old. He was obtained with great difficulty; you should not take Rāma. Of my four sons, my affection for him is supreme. You should not take Rāma, who is my eldest and foremost in righteousness. 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 those Rākṣasas? Should I, with my own forces or with deceitful warriors, confront them in battle, O revered one? Tell me everything—how I should face them in war. One must stand firm against those of wicked intent, for the Rākṣasas are exceedingly proud of their strength.” Viśvāmitra responded, “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 and mighty, surrounded by many Rākṣasas. It is said, O great king, that Rāvaṇa is the lord of the Rākṣasas. He is the brother of Vaiśravaṇa and the son of the sage Viśravas. Yet he himself does not directly disrupt the sacrifice, O mighty one. Urged by him, two Rākṣasas of immense strength—Mārīca and Subāhu—are set to disrupt the sacrifice.” Daśaratha pleaded, “Therefore, O knower of righteousness, show favor to my son. For I am of little fortune, and you, revered one, are like a deity to me. Gods, Dānavas, Gandharvas, Yakṣas, birds, and serpents are unable to withstand Rāvaṇa; how much less, then, can humans face him in battle? Rāvaṇa, in battle, takes the strength of the mighty. Therefore, I am unable to fight him or his forces. Even with my own strength, O best of sages, or together with my sons, I could in no way 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, even though my two sons are equal to Sunda and Upasunda in battle. Those two, Mārīca and Subāhu, who disrupt the sacrifice, are mighty and well-trained; I will not give my son. With my friends and allies, I myself will go to fight one of them; otherwise, I will implore you, along with your kinsmen.” As the king’s words reached the chief of the twice-born, a great anger entered the son of Kuśika. Like fire well kindled and brightened with ghee in a sacrifice, the fire of the great sage blazed forth. Now begins the twenty-first sarga. Hearing Daśaratha’s words, choked with affection, the sage Kauśika, filled with anger, replied to the king: “Having previously given your word, you now wish to abandon your promise. Such a reversal does not befit the house of Raghu, nor this noble lineage.