With mighty wings outspread, the venerable king of vultures confronted Rāvaṇa, his voice resonant with strength and wisdom. “I am Jaṭāyu by name,” he declared, “ruler of all beings who soar the skies, a sovereign among birds, my might comparable to Mahendra and Varuṇa themselves. O Rāvaṇa, know that Rāma, son of Daśaratha, is devoted to the welfare of all creatures. This illustrious lady beside you is his lawful wife, Sītā, noble in form and virtue. “How can a king, established in righteousness, lay hands upon another’s wife? Especially a king must protect the honor of others’ spouses, mighty one—turn back from this base path of coveting what is not yours. A wise man should never act in ways that invite the censure of others. As one guards his own wife, so should he guard the wives of others from harm. Whether for gain or desire, the virtuous discern the right path, even in matters unspoken by scripture, O descendant of Pulastya. “Kingship, righteousness, desire, and wealth—these are the highest treasures, and from the king springs both virtue and vice, as well as prosperity. Yet how, fickle and of evil nature as you are, have you attained sovereignty, like a wicked man ascending a celestial car? That which is rooted in desire is not easily removed, for noble conduct does not long remain in the house of the wicked. “Neither in your realm nor in your city has Rāma, mighty and righteous, committed offense. Why, then, do you wrong him? If Khara, because of Śūrpaṇakhā, came to Janasthāna and was slain by blameless Rāma, having overstepped his bounds—tell me truly, what transgression has Rāma committed, that you now abduct the wife of the lord of the world and flee? “Release Vaidehī at once, lest you be burned by her fierce gaze, as Vṛtra was by Indra’s thunderbolt. You do not realize you have tied a venomous serpent in the edge of your garment, nor do you see the noose of death tightening around your neck. Only that burden should be borne which does not overwhelm a man, only that food eaten which brings no harm when digested. “What action brings neither righteousness, nor fame, nor lasting glory, but only weariness to the body? For sixty thousand years, O Rāvaṇa, I have upheld the kingdom inherited from my fathers and grandfathers. Though I am old and you are young, armed with bow, chariot, and armor, you shall not succeed in taking Vaidehī from me and departing safely. As long as I live, you cannot seize her by force while I watch, just as one cannot wrest away the firm knowledge of the Vedas, grounded in reason and justice. “If you are truly a hero, fight! Stay for a moment, Rāvaṇa, and you will lie slain on the ground as Khara did before. By him who has slain Daityas and Dānavas many times, by that Rāma in ascetic garb, you will soon be killed in battle. What can I do, since the princes have gone far away? Yet soon, out of fear of them, you will perish—of that there is no doubt. “As long as I draw breath, you will not take this auspicious lady, Sītā, lotus-eyed and beloved queen of Rāma. Yet I must do what is dear to that great-souled one, for Rāma’s sake—even at the cost of my life—and for Daśaratha as well. Stay, stay, ten-headed one! Wait a moment, Rāvaṇa. I would strike you down from your excellent chariot like a fruit from its stalk. I offer you the hospitality of battle, as best I can, O night-wanderer.” Thus challenged, the king of the Rākṣasas, his eyes blazing red with anger and golden earrings flashing, rushed furiously at Jaṭāyu. A tumultuous and fierce clash erupted between them, like storm clouds colliding in the sky. The vulture and the Rākṣasa, both winged and garlanded, fought like two great mountains locked in combat. Rāvaṇa unleashed a terrible rain of sharp-tipped arrows and barbed darts upon the mighty king of vultures. Jaṭāyu, lord of the feathered race, received those volleys in battle, undaunted. With his powerful, sharp-clawed feet, the noble bird wounded Rāvaṇa’s body in many places. Enraged, the ten-headed one seized ten dreadful arrows, resembling the rods of death, intent on destroying his foe. With those straight-flying, sharp, and terrible missiles, Rāvaṇa pierced Jaṭāyu, but the valiant bird, seeing Jānakī’s tear-filled eyes on the demon’s chariot, ignored his wounds and rushed at Rāvaṇa. With immense brilliance, Jaṭāyu broke Rāvaṇa’s jeweled bow and arrows with his taloned feet. Overwhelmed by anger, Rāvaṇa snatched up another bow and showered hundreds and thousands of arrows upon the king of birds. Covered in arrows, Jaṭāyu appeared as if he had returned to his nest, but he shook off the clustered shafts with his wings and again shattered Rāvaṇa’s great bow. Thus the king of birds, radiant and resolute, shook off even Rāvaṇa’s blazing, fire-like arrows with his mighty wings, standing undaunted in the defense of Sītā.