Rāvaṇa, the mighty king of the rākṣasas, gazed upon Mārīca and spoke with conviction, “In strength, in battle, and in pride, there is none your equal. You are a hero of great prowess, skilled in sorcery and strategy. That is why I have come to you, O night-wanderer. Listen to what must be done as my ally, and follow my words. “Take the form of a golden deer, adorned with silver spots, and wander before Sītā at Rāma’s hermitage. When Sītā sees you in this enchanting form, she will surely ask her husband and Lakṣmaṇa to capture you. Then, when those two have left and the place is deserted, I will seize Sītā at my ease, just as Rāhu seizes the radiance of the moon. Afterwards, when Rāma is tormented by the abduction of his wife, I shall strike him down at my leisure, my purpose accomplished and my heart satisfied.” Hearing Rāvaṇa’s plan, Mārīca, the great-souled rākṣasa, was seized by terror. His mouth grew dry, and, licking his parched lips, he stared at Rāvaṇa with unblinking eyes, as if lifeless, tormented by fear. Well aware of Rāma’s might, his mind disturbed in the great forest, Mārīca joined his palms in supplication and addressed Rāvaṇa with words of truth, beneficial to both himself and the king. “Hear now the thirty-seventh chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Araṇyakaṇḍa. “Hearing your words, O lord of the rākṣasas, I, Mārīca, reply. O King, men who always speak what is pleasant are easily found; but one who speaks and listens to what is unpleasant yet wholesome is rare indeed. “You do not truly understand Rāma, exalted in strength and virtue, unpredictable in conduct, restless, and equal to Indra and Varuṇa. May all the rākṣasas be safe, dear one; may Rāma, if angered, not destroy the worlds and the rākṣasas. May the daughter of Janaka not have arisen for the end of your life; may there not be great calamity because of Sītā. May the city of Lanka, along with all the rākṣasas, not perish because of you, their lord, indulging in unchecked desires. “A king ruled by desire, of bad character, and advised by wicked counselors destroys himself, his kin, and his realm through misguided judgment. Rāma was not abandoned by his father, nor did he ever transgress boundaries. He is not greedy, nor of bad character, nor a stain upon the Kṣatriya race. He, the joy of Kausalyā, lacks no virtue of dharma; he is not harsh to beings, but devoted to the welfare of all creatures. “When his truthful father was deceived by Kaikeyī, that righteous one said, ‘I will do it,’ and went into exile in the forest. For the sake of Kaikeyī’s desire and his father Daśaratha, he abandoned the kingdom and pleasures, and entered the Daṇḍaka forest. Rāma is not harsh, nor ignorant, nor uncontrolled; you should not speak what is untrue or unheard about him. He is dharma embodied, noble, steadfast in truth and valor; he is the king of all the world, like Indra among the gods. “How can you hope to seize Vaidehī, protected by her own radiance, as one might try to snatch the brilliance of the sun? Do not attempt to enter the blazing Rāma-fire in battle, whose arrows are like flames, whose fuel is uncut, and who cannot be approached. He, whose bow is drawn wide, whose face is radiant, whose arrows are like fire, who is unyielding and armed for battle, is fierce and the destroyer of enemy armies. “You have abandoned kingdom, comfort, and even the cherished life of the self; do not, dear one, bring about your own end here for the sake of Rāma. The brilliance of him whose wife is the daughter of Janaka is immeasurable; you are not capable of taking her, who is protected by Rāma’s bow, in the forest. To that lion among men, broad-chested and radiant, his wife—ever devoted—is dearer than life itself. Sītā, beloved of the mighty son of Mithilā, cannot be violated—she is like the blazing flame of a sacrificial fire. “Why undertake this futile effort, lord of the rākṣasas? If you are seen by him in battle, that will surely be your end. If you wish to enjoy life, happiness, and your exceedingly rare kingdom for a long time, do not do what displeases Rāma. With all your counselors, led by Vibhīṣaṇa, having deliberated with the righteous and made up your mind, carefully weighing faults and virtues, strength and weakness—knowing your own strength and that of Rāghava in truth, you should decide what is truly beneficial and proper for you to do. “But I think it is not fitting for you to meet the son of the king of Kosala in battle. Now hear again this excellent, proper, and fitting counsel, lord of the night-walkers. “Hear now the thirty-eighth sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇyakāṇḍa. “Once, roaming this earth by my own might, bearing the strength of a thousand elephants, I was like a mountain—dark as a rain cloud, adorned with blazing golden earrings, terrifying the world, crowned and wielding a mace as my weapon. I wandered the Daṇḍaka forest, eating the flesh of sages. Then Viśvāmitra, the righteous great sage, terrified of me, went himself to King Daśaratha and said, ‘Let Rāma protect me, intent, at the time of sacrifice.’” Thus, Mārīca spoke, his words heavy with wisdom and warning, hoping to turn Rāvaṇa from a path that could only lead to ruin.