Kadrū, the mother of serpents, gave birth to a thousand nāgas, those earth-supporting beings. Vinatā, on the other hand, had two sons: Garuḍa, the mighty bird, and Aruṇa. From Aruṇa, I was born; my elder brother is Sampāti. Know me, O subduer of foes, as Jaṭāyu, son of Śyenī. If you wish, I will be your companion here, for this forest is a difficult and formidable place, frequented by wild beasts and rākṣasas. Dear one, when you depart with Lakṣmaṇa, I will protect Sītā. Rāghava honored Jaṭāyu, joyfully embraced him, and bowed, remembering the friendship his father had often spoken of between their families. Entrusting Sītā, the princess of Mithilā, to the mighty bird, Rāma set out with Lakṣmaṇa for Pañcavaṭī, eager to destroy his enemies like fire devours moths. Let the seventeenth chapter be heard. Rāma, having completed his ablutions with Sītā and Saumitri, left the bank of the Godāvarī and returned to his hermitage. Together with Lakṣmaṇa, Rāghava approached the leaf-hut, performed the morning rituals, and entered. There, honored by the great sages, Rāma dwelt happily, sitting with Sītā in the hut. The mighty-armed Rāma shone like the moon adorned with patterns, conversing with his brother Lakṣmaṇa. As Rāma sat, absorbed in stories, a certain rākṣasī arrived there by chance. She was Śūrpaṇakhā, sister of the rākṣasa Daśagrīva. Approaching Rāma, she saw him, radiant as a celestial. She gazed upon his face, mighty arms, lotus-petal eyes, elephant-like gait, and his matted locks arranged in a circle. She saw Rāma, gentle yet strong, marked with royal signs, dark as a blue lotus, shining like Kāma himself. Overwhelmed by desire, the rākṣasī, ugly-faced yet drawn to handsome Rāma, stared at him, her broad waist contrasting with her large belly. Her distorted eyes met his wide, beautiful ones; her coppery hair contrasted with his pleasing locks. Though her voice was sweet, it was terrifying; she was old yet youthful, fierce yet gentle in speech, of wicked conduct while he was righteous, unpleasant to behold though he was pleasing. Possessed by bodily passion, Śūrpaṇakhā spoke to Rāma: "You, with matted hair, dressed as an ascetic, with your wife, bearing bow and arrows... You have come to this land inhabited by rākṣasas—how is that? What is the purpose of your coming? You should tell the truth." Thus addressed by the rākṣasī, Rāma began to speak plainly: "There was a king named Daśaratha, whose valor rivaled the gods. I am his eldest son, known among people as Rāma. This is my younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa, devoted to me; and this is my wife, the famed Vaidehī, known as Sītā." "But I wish to know about you," Rāma continued. "Whose are you, who are you, and to whom do you belong? For you appear to me as a rākṣasī, though with a most attractive form. Why have you come here—what is the real reason? Speak truthfully." Hearing these words, tormented by desire, Śūrpaṇakhā replied, "Listen, Rāma, I will tell you the truth as it is. I am a rākṣasī named Śūrpaṇakhā, able to assume any form at will. I wander alone in this forest, terrifying to all. Rāvaṇa is my brother—perhaps you have heard of him. He is a hero, son of Viśravas; perhaps you have heard of him. Kumbhakarṇa, ever given to deep sleep, is of great might. Vibhīṣaṇa is righteous, not acting like a rākṣasa. My brothers Khara and Dūṣaṇa are renowned for their valor in battle. Having left them behind, Rāma, and seeing you for the first time, I have come to you, drawn by feeling, seeking the best of men as my husband. I am endowed with power, moving freely by my own strength; be my husband for a long time—what will you do with Sītā? She is deformed and ugly, not a match for you; I alone am suitable for you as a wife—look at me in that form. This ugly, wicked, fierce, and sunken-bellied woman—I will eat her, your brother's companion, along with him. Then, desiring, you will roam the Daṇḍaka forest with me, seeing mountain peaks and various woods." Thus addressed, Kākutstha, the wise speaker, laughed at the intoxicated-eyed woman and began to reply. Let the eighteenth chapter be heard. Then Rāma, seeing Śūrpaṇakhā ensnared by desire, spoke gently, with a smile: "I am already married, and this dear lady is my wife. For women like you, having a co-wife is a source of great sorrow. But this is my younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa by name, virtuous, pleasing to behold, glorious, and unmarried, endowed with valor. He is young, handsome, seeking a wife for the first time, and he will be a fitting husband for you, matching your own beauty. O large-eyed one, take him, my brother, as your husband, O lovely-hipped woman, without a rival wife, like the radiance of the sun upon Mount Meru.