To the mighty king of the rākṣasas, words of earnest counsel were spoken. “Rāma, that lion among men—broad-chested and radiant—holds his wife dearer than life itself. Sītā, slender-waisted and beloved of the powerful son of Mithilā, cannot be violated; she is like the blazing flame of a sacrificial fire, untouchable and pure. Why, then, do you persist in this futile endeavor, O lord of the rākṣasas? Should you face him in battle and be seen by him, it will surely be your end. If you wish to enjoy life, happiness, and the exceedingly rare kingdom for a long time, do not do what displeases Rāma. Gather your counselors, led by Vibhīṣaṇa, and after careful deliberation with the righteous, weighing faults and virtues, strengths and weaknesses, know your own power and that of Rāghava. Then decide what is truly beneficial and proper for you. Yet, I believe it is not wise for you to meet the son of the king of Kosala in battle. Hear, once again, this excellent and fitting counsel, O lord of the night-walkers. Now, listen to a tale from my own past. Once, I roamed this earth by my own might, bearing the strength of a thousand elephants, like a mountain. My form was dark as a rain cloud, adorned with blazing golden earrings, crowned, and wielding a mighty mace. I wandered the Daṇḍaka forest, terrifying the world and consuming the flesh of sages. It was then that the great and righteous sage Viśvāmitra, frightened by my deeds, went to King Daśaratha and said, ‘Let Rāma protect me, intent, at the time of sacrifice. O king, a terrible fear of Mārīca has arisen in me.’ Thus addressed, the righteous King Daśaratha replied, ‘This Rāghava is not yet twelve years old and untrained in arms. My army will go with me; with my fourfold force, I myself will come against the night-stalker. I will slay your enemy, best of sages, as you desire.’ But the sage said, ‘There is no other force in the world, apart from Rāma, sufficient against that rākṣasa. Even among the gods, you are the protector in battles. The deed you performed, O king, is renowned throughout the three worlds; though you have a great army, let it remain here, O scorcher of foes. Even though he is a boy, this one of great brilliance is capable of restraining him. I will go, taking Rāma with me—may you fare well, O subduer of enemies.’ Having spoken thus, the sage, exceedingly pleased, took the prince and departed for his own hermitage. There, in the Daṇḍaka forest, Rāma stood ready, having undertaken the vow for the sacrifice, wondrously stringing his bow. He was unmarked by beard, radiant, a dark-complexioned boy with auspicious eyes, wearing a single garment, carrying a bow, his topknot adorned with a golden garland. He illuminated the Daṇḍaka forest with his own blazing splendor, appearing then like the newly risen young moon. Then I, dark as a cloud, wearing blazing golden earrings, strong and proud from the boon I had received, entered the hermitage. As I entered, he saw me, weapon in hand, and calmly readied his bow, without any confusion. Out of delusion, I scorned Rāghava, thinking, ‘He is just a boy,’ and hurried toward Viśvāmitra’s sacrificial altar. But then, a sharp arrow released by Rāma, destroyer of enemies, struck me and hurled me a hundred yojanas into the sea. He did not wish to kill me then, O father, but protected me; driven away by Rāma’s arrow’s force, I lost consciousness. Cast into the deep ocean by him, I regained consciousness after a long time and went to the city of Laṅkā. Thus I was spared at that time, but your allies were slain by Rāma, though he was a boy, unwearied in action and unused to weapons. Therefore, if you, despite my warning, engage in conflict with Rāma, you will quickly meet with terrible calamities and will not survive. You will bring grief and disaster upon the rākṣasas, who are skilled in games, pleasures, and festivities, who witness assemblies and celebrations. You will see the city of Laṅkā, crowded with mansions and palaces adorned with various jewels, destroyed for the sake of Maithilī. Even those who do not commit sins, being pure, perish through association with the wicked—just as fish perish in a serpent-infested pool. You will see the demons, adorned with divine sandalwood and celestial ornaments, struck down upon the ground because of your fault. You will see the night-wanderers, their wives taken, some with their wives fleeing in all directions, and the survivors, helpless and without refuge. Surely, you will see Laṅkā surrounded by volleys of arrows and enveloped in flames, its buildings burned. There is no greater sin than the violation of another’s wife. O king, you have thousands of women in your possession. Be devoted to your own wife, protect your lineage and the demons, and preserve your honor, prosperity, kingdom, and your own cherished life. If you wish to enjoy your gentle wives and circle of friends for a long time, do not do anything displeasing to Rāma.