Maricha, having spoken earnestly to Ravana as a well-wishing friend, warned him with grave sincerity: “If, despite my heartfelt cautions, you choose to violate Sita by force, then know this, Ravana—you and your kin, weakened and diminished, will surely be destroyed by Rama’s arrows and sent to the abode of Yama.” Now begins the thirty-ninth chapter of the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, in the Aranyakanda. Maricha continued his tale: “Listen as I recount what befell me after my previous release in battle. Unwearied, I was set upon by two fierce demons, and together, assuming the forms of deer, we entered the vast Dandaka forest. “In that forest, I roamed as a monstrous beast—my tongue ablaze, fangs sharp, horns deadly, and strength immense—feeding on flesh. I haunted sacrificial altars, holy places, and sacred trees, O Ravana, terrifying ascetics and disrupting their penances. I slew the righteous sages of Dandaka, drinking their blood and devouring their flesh, cruel and intoxicated with violence, spreading terror among all who dwelt there. “Roaming thus, a corrupter of dharma, I encountered Rama, the ascetic devoted to righteousness. With him were Vaidehi, the noble Sita, and Lakshmana, the great charioteer, restrained and caring for all beings. “Blinded by my old enmity and disregarding Rama’s true strength, I saw him as just another forest-dwelling ascetic. Consumed by anger and remembering a previous blow, I charged at him in my deer form, intent on killing him. But Rama, drawing his mighty bow, released three sharp arrows—swift as Garuda and the wind, destroyers of enemies. “Those arrows, like thunderbolts, terrifying and thirsting for blood, sped toward me. Knowing Rama’s valor, and having once before tasted danger, I fled by deceit. Yet the two Rakshasas who were with me were slain by Rama’s arrows. “Though wounded, I survived by some stroke of fate, and since then, I have wandered, now settled as an ascetic, striving for composure. But everywhere I look, on every tree, I see Rama—clad in bark and black deer skin, holding his bow, like Death himself with a noose in hand. Even in solitude, O Ravana, I see nothing but Rama; thousands of Ramas fill my vision, and the whole forest seems transformed into Rama’s presence. “Names beginning with ‘Ra’, gems, chariots—all these now fill me with dread, so terrified am I of Rama. I know his power, Ravana; battle with him is not wise. The scion of Raghu could slay even the mighty Bali or Namuci. If you wish to fight Rama, do so; or show patience. But if you wish to see me alive, speak no more of Rama. “In this world, many virtuous people, devoted to righteousness, have perished along with their possessions because of the misdeeds of others. In the same way, I too may perish because of another’s offense. Do as you think best, Ravana, but I will not follow you. “Rama is possessed of great splendor, courage, and strength—he could destroy the entire world of Rakshasas. If Khara, because of Shurpanakha, went to Janasthana, acted with excessive violence, and was slain by Rama, whose deeds are effortless, then tell me, what fault lies with Rama? “If you do not heed these words, spoken for your welfare and that of your kin, then you and your relatives will lose your lives in battle, struck down by Rama’s straight-flying arrows.” Now begins the fortieth chapter of the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, Aranyakanda. Ravana, upon hearing Maricha’s honest and fitting words, refused to accept them, just as a man bent on self-destruction rejects medicine. Prompted by fate, Ravana replied harshly to Maricha, scorning the wholesome advice offered. He said, “Maricha, the words you have spoken to me are unfit and meaningless, coming from one of ignoble lineage. They are utterly fruitless, like a seed sown in barren ground. Your warnings cannot deter me from battle with Rama, especially since he is but a foolish, sinful human. “Rama, having abandoned friends, kingdom, mother, and father, went alone to the forest at the mere words of a woman. In battle with the slayer of Khara, I will surely seize Sita, who is dearer to him than life itself, and I will do it before your very eyes. “My heart is firmly set on this course, Maricha; not even the gods or demons together with Indra could sway me from it. When asked about the faults or merits of a plan, whether there is danger or opportunity, a wise minister should speak accordingly. “When questioned, a minister should address the king with joined hands, if he desires his own prosperity. The words offered should not be opposed, but gentle, auspicious, and beneficial, spoken with proper decorum. If words are harsh or disrespectful, even if beneficial, a king who values his own honor will not accept them. “Kings of immeasurable energy, Maricha, bear five forms: those of Agni, Indra, Soma, Yama, and Varuna.” Thus, Ravana dismissed Maricha’s warnings, his mind set on his fateful course, unmoved by wise counsel.