When Śūrpaṇakhā had spoken, her words sent a thrill through Rāvaṇa, lord of the rākṣasas. She pleaded, “If my words are pleasing to you, O mighty one, let my counsel be followed without delay. Consider the weakness of your foes and act decisively. Sītā, flawless in form, should become your wife, O lord of the rākṣasas. You have heard that the night-dwelling rākṣasas at Janasthāna were slain by Rāma’s straight-flying arrows, and you have seen Khara and Dūṣaṇa killed. Now is the time for you to act.” Having heard these stirring words, Rāvaṇa, his hair bristling with excitement, gathered his trusted ministers. He consulted them, weighed the situation, and reflected deeply on the strengths and weaknesses, the faults and virtues involved. With his mind made up and resolve firm, he proceeded to the magnificent chariot hall. Concealed from sight, Rāvaṇa commanded his charioteer, “Yoke the chariot at once.” The swift and skillful charioteer, quick to obey, yoked Rāvaṇa’s favorite and excellent chariot. Rāvaṇa mounted this wondrous vehicle, which moved at his will, adorned with gold and precious gems, and drawn by horses with faces like goblins, glittering with golden ornaments. With a thunderous roar, the illustrious lord of the rākṣasas, brother to Kubera, set forth toward the lord of rivers and groves. Ten-headed and twenty-armed, radiant in his appearance, adorned with heated gold ornaments, and shaded by a white umbrella and whisk, Rāvaṇa shone like smooth beryl, resplendent as a mountain with ten peaks. Seated in his chariot that sped wherever he wished, he gleamed in the sky like a storm cloud lit by lightning. As he journeyed, Rāvaṇa gazed upon the vast regions of mountains, seas, and shores. He beheld thousands of trees laden with blossoms and fruit, and ponds filled with cool, auspicious waters, surrounded by spacious hermitages and sacred altars. Groves of plantains and shining coconut trees, sāla, tāla, and tamāla trees in full bloom graced the landscape. Great sages, restrained in their food, dwelled there, along with thousands of nāgas, suparṇas, gandharvas, and kinnaras. The land was further enhanced by siddhas and cāraṇas who had conquered desire, and by ascetics such as ājas, vaikhānasas, māṣas, vālakhilyas, and marīcipas. Thousands of apsarases, radiant in divine ornaments and garlands, of celestial beauty and skilled in play and ritual, adorned the surroundings. The illustrious wives of the gods attended there, revered by all, and the place was frequented by hosts of gods and asuras who partook of ambrosia. The waters teemed with swans, cranes, and waterfowl, and sarasa birds brought joy to the scene. The banks sparkled with smooth, lustrous beryl stones and the brilliance of the ocean. All around, vast and pale-white aerial palaces, decked with heavenly garlands, resounded with music and song. Rāvaṇa, brother of Kubera, beheld gandharvas and apsarases moving freely, who had conquered the worlds through their austerities. He saw gentle sandalwood forests by the thousands, their roots exuding fragrant resin, delighting the senses. There were also groves of the finest agaru trees, takkolas, jātis, and other fruit-bearing, aromatic species. The blooms of tamāla trees, thickets of marica, and clusters of pearls drying on the riverbank caught his eye. He gazed upon excellent mountains, heaps of coral, and peaks of gold and silver. There were charming, clear springs, lands rich in wealth and grain, and filled with women of rare beauty. Cities bustling with elephants, horses, and chariots appeared before him, and he saw the land everywhere level, lush, and caressed by gentle breezes. In the marshes of the Sindhu king, Rāvaṇa came upon a place like heaven itself. There stood a mighty banyan tree, dark as a rain cloud, surrounded by sages. Its branches stretched a hundred yojanas in every direction, and from it, both an elephant and a great-bodied turtle had been taken up. For the sake of food, the mighty Garuḍa once alighted on a branch of this tree. So great was his weight that the branch, thick with leaves, broke suddenly. Upon that branch were gathered the Vaikhānasas, Māṣas, Vālakhilyas, and Marīcipas—great sages, grey and assembled, appearing as goats. For their sake, Garuḍa took up the branch, a hundred yojanas long, along with the elephant and the tortoise. Standing on one foot, the righteous king of birds ate the flesh. With the branch, Garuḍa destroyed the territory of the Niṣādas and, having freed the great sages, attained incomparable joy. Filled with elation, his strength doubled and he resolved in his mind to bring back the nectar. Continuing his journey, Rāvaṇa, brother of the Lord of Wealth, beheld the banyan tree named Subhadra, marked by the presence of Suparṇa and frequented by hosts of great sages. Having crossed to the far shore of the ocean, lord of rivers, he finally saw a hermitage set in a secluded, sacred, and beautiful part of the forest.