Sugrīva, his heart full of relief and gratitude, addressed Rāma with reverence: “By great fortune, you have arrived here safely, O joy of the helpless, and you have vanquished my enemy. I was alone and without support, and you alone have become my protector. As a token of my respect, please accept this many-ribbed umbrella, radiant as the full moon, along with this yak-tail fan, which I have kept for you.” He continued, recounting his recent suffering: “Afflicted and anxious, I waited at the entrance of the cave for an entire year, O king. One day, I saw blood flowing out from the cave’s mouth, and my heart was seized by grief and confusion. Overwhelmed, I sealed the cave’s entrance with a mountain peak, believing the worst. Then, heavy-hearted, I returned to Kiṣkindhā. But when the citizens and counselors saw me, they were filled with sorrow. “I did not desire kingship, and I ask your forgiveness. You alone are worthy to be honored as king, while I remain as before. My appointment as king happened only because you were absent. Now, the realm stands united—its troubles removed—along with ministers, citizens, and city. I entrust this kingdom back to you; please do not be angry with me, gentle one, slayer of enemies. “I was made king only because I wished to restore order to the land in your absence. When I spoke these words with affection, a certain monkey rebuked me harshly, crying ‘Fie upon you!’ and saying much more. He gathered the people and the trusted counselors together and, in their presence, spoke words of utmost reproach: ‘You all know that Māyāvī, the great demon, once challenged me at night. Eager for battle, he provoked me, and so I left the royal city. “My fierce brother followed me swiftly. But when Māyāvī saw me accompanied by another, he was terrified and fled into a vast cave. My brother, grim and resolute, said to me, “I cannot return to the city without killing him. Wait at the entrance until I slay him.” Trusting that he would return, I entered that dreadful cave. As I searched for him, a whole year passed. “There, I finally found my relentless enemy and slew him, along with all his kin. Blood poured from his mouth, flooding the cave and echoing upon the earth. After defeating him, I sought to leave, but the entrance was sealed. I called out again and again for Sugrīva, but received no reply. Distressed, I battered the entrance with my feet until I finally broke free and returned to the city. “But when I arrived, Sugrīva barred me from the kingdom, seeking the throne for himself and forgetting the bond of brotherhood. Vāli, now fearless, exiled me with only a single garment. Thus cast out and deprived of my wife, O Rāghava, I wandered the earth, through forests and over seas, fearing him. Grieving for my abducted wife, I entered the great mountain Ṛṣyamūka, which Vāli could not approach for another reason. “Thus, O Rāghava, I have told you everything—the full account of this enmity. See how, though blameless, I have come to this misfortune. Because I fear Vāli, who terrifies all the worlds, O hero, I beg you to show me your favor by restraining him.” Having heard Sugrīva’s tale, Rāma, radiant and righteous and well-versed in dharma, spoke reassuringly, his words gentle as a smile: “These arrows of mine, unfailing and sharp, shining like the sun, will fall upon that wicked Vāli, filled with wrath. Until I see Vāli, the abductor of your wife and destroyer of virtue, that evil-hearted one shall live. I see that you are submerged in an ocean of sorrow, but by my own judgment, I will surely rescue you, and you will attain abundant happiness.” Hearing these words, which filled him with hope and courage, Sugrīva was overjoyed. He honored Rāghava and praised him, saying, “Without doubt, with your blazing, sharp arrows that pierce the vital points, you could burn the worlds in anger, like the sun at the end of an age. But first, listen carefully as I tell you of Vāli’s strength, valor, and steadfastness. Then act as you see fit. “From the western ocean to the eastern, and from the south to the north, Vāli, tireless, traverses the land before the sun has even risen. He climbs the highest mountain peaks and, leaping upward with force, seizes even the greatest among them. Such is his might. Many sturdy and various trees in the forests have been broken by Vāli’s strength, as he displays his power.” Thus, Sugrīva revealed all, placing his faith in Rāma and awaiting his just intervention.