The great chariot of Rāvaṇa, lord of the rākṣasas, thundered through the heavens along the path of the stars, shining brilliantly like the moon among drifting clouds. Traveling a long distance, Rāvaṇa soon reached the hermitage of Tāṭakā. There, he was received with honor by Mārīca, who offered him supernatural foods and delicacies, welcoming him with a seat, water, and words full of meaning. With respectful purpose, Mārīca spoke: “O king, lord of the rākṣasas, is all well among your people? I am curious, for I do not know what brings you here in such haste.” Thus addressed, the mighty Rāvaṇa, skilled in speech, replied, “My protector has been slain, dear one, by Rāma, who acts without fault. All of Janasthāna, once invincible, has been destroyed in battle.” He continued, “Therefore, assist me in the abduction of Rāma’s wife.” Hearing the king’s words, Mārīca responded, “By whom has Sītā been pointed out to you? Who is this friend that is truly an enemy, O tiger among rākṣasas? Who, when delighted, does not rejoice with you? Who tells you to bring Sītā here? Tell me—who among all the rākṣasas wishes to cut off his own horn? Whoever encourages you in this is surely an enemy, wishing you to draw the fang from the mouth of a venomous serpent. By whose act have you been set upon this evil path? Who struck you on the head while you slept peacefully, O king?” Mārīca continued with gravity, “He, Rāma, is born of a pure and noble line, steadfast and powerful, like an elephant with mighty tusks. Rāvaṇa, it is not fitting to confront him, that Rāghava, the elephant among men, in battle. He is a lion among men, skilled in war, destroyer of clever rākṣasas, standing in the midst of battle. You cannot awaken him while he sleeps, for his fangs are arrows and sharp swords. In the mire of his arm’s strength, in the flood of great battle, with waves of arrows and the theft of bows—O king of rākṣasas, it is not right to leap into Rāma’s dreadful mouth, like the underworld itself.” He pleaded, “Be gracious, lord of Laṅkā, king of rākṣasas. Be pleased, return to Laṅkā. Always delight in your own wives; let Rāma with his wife enjoy the forests.” Thus addressed by Mārīca, the ten-headed Rāvaṇa turned back and returned to his splendid house in Laṅkā. Now, listen further. At this time, Śūrpaṇakhā saw that fourteen thousand fierce and mighty rākṣasas had been slain by Rāma alone. She witnessed Dūṣaṇa, Khara, and Triśiras all killed in battle. Overcome with agitation, she let out a great roar, like a thundercloud, and set out for Laṅkā, the city ruled by Rāvaṇa. Arriving there, she saw Rāvaṇa radiant in his brilliance, seated before his ministers at the forefront of his palace, like Indra among the Maruts. He sat upon a supreme golden throne, shining like the sun, on a golden platform, resplendent like blazing fire. Unconquerable in dreadful battle by gods, Gandharvas, spirits, and great sages, he looked like Death itself with a gaping mouth. His chest bore scars from the thunderbolt and lightning in battles with gods and demons, and the marks of Airāvata’s tusks. With twenty arms and ten heads, adorned in splendid attire, broad-chested and heroic, he was marked with royal signs. Ornaments gleamed upon him like cat’s-eye gems and heated gold. His strong arms, white teeth, and great mouth gave him a form like a mountain. He had been struck hundreds of times in great battles by Viṣṇu’s discus and other divine weapons, yet all his limbs remained unbroken. Such was his might that he could agitate even the unshakable oceans, hurl mountain peaks, crush the gods, destroy righteousness, and violate the wives of others. He wielded all celestial weapons, ever the disturber of sacrifices, who had conquered Vāsuki and entered the city of Bhogavatī. He defeated Takṣaka and seized his beloved wife, and, conquering Naravāhana, reached Mount Kailāsa. He took the wondrous, wish-fulfilling Puṣpaka chariot, and the divine forests of Caitraratha, Nalinī, and Nandana. In his fury, he destroyed the gardens of the gods and, with his might, restrained the glorious Sun and Moon, holding them back with arms like mountain peaks, having performed austerities for ten thousand years in the great forest. Long ago, in the age of Svayambhu, that steadfast one severed the heads of gods, demons, gandharvas, piśācas, birds, and serpents. In battle, he feared no one but a human. Praised with mantras by the twice-born at sacred rites, he was considered auspicious. Yet, he was of great might, a taker of soma at offerings, a disruptor of sacrifices, wicked, a slayer of Brahmins, and cruel in his deeds. Harsh, pitiless, delighting in the harm of beings, Rāvaṇa brought terror to all creatures and all the worlds. Thus did Śūrpaṇakhā behold her cruel and mighty brother, adorned with divine garments and celestial garlands, shining with the splendor of the gods. Seated upon his throne, like Death itself arisen at the appointed time, was the illustrious king of the rākṣasas, the great and noble scion of the Paulastya line.