As the battle raged, Vali, the mighty monkey king, suffered terribly. His limbs were shattered by stones and struck fiercely by trees, and Rama’s arrows overwhelmed him. At the end of his life, Vali lost consciousness, his strength finally spent. Word of this tragedy reached Tara, Vali’s devoted wife. She heard that her husband, the tiger among monkeys, had been slain in battle by Rama’s arrow. Overcome with distress, Tara, together with her son Angada, rushed out from the mountain cave, her heart broken by the cruel news of her beloved’s death. Meanwhile, the mighty monkeys who served Angada saw Rama standing with his bow. Terrified, they fled in all directions, abandoning their ranks. Tara witnessed these frightened monkeys running swiftly, scattered like deer whose leader has fallen. Approaching these sorrowful ones, herself deeply grieving, Tara addressed the monkeys who fled in fear of Rama, their ranks broken by arrows. She called out, “You, who were the foremost followers of the lion among kings—why do you abandon him and flee in terror and distress?” She lamented, “If, for the sake of the kingdom, a brother has been struck down by his own cruel brother, by Rama’s far-flying arrows sent from afar—” Hearing Tara’s words, the monkeys, who could assume any form at will, spoke timely and appropriate words to her. They urged, “Return while your son still lives; protect Angada. Death, in the form of Rama, has slain Vali and is taking him away. Though he hurled trees and massive rocks, Vali was struck down by arrows as hard as thunderbolts, as if felled by the thunderbolt itself. The monkey army has been overcome and scattered, now that the tiger among monkeys, radiant as Indra, has been slain. Let the city be protected by heroes, and let Angada be installed as prince; the monkeys will serve Vali’s son, who stands in his father’s place. Or, O lovely-faced one, if you prefer another place, let the monkeys quickly enter the fortresses even today. Here dwell forest-roaming ones, both with and without wives; from those greedy and deceitful ones, we have great fear.” Standing very near, Tara, she of the beautiful smile, replied in a manner befitting herself. “What use have I for a son, or even for the kingdom itself, when my husband, the lion among monkeys, the greatly fortunate one, is lost?” Having spoken thus, Tara ran off, weeping and overcome by grief, striking her head and chest with her arms in her sorrow. As she went, she saw her husband fallen on the ground—the slayer of the lords of demons, who never turned away in battle. He, who hurled great mountains like Indra does his thunderbolts, now lay seized by a mighty wind, roaring like a mass of great clouds. Equal in valor to Indra, now fallen like a rain cloud that has ceased, the terrible one among those who roar, the hero struck down by a hero, like a lion among beasts felled by a tiger for the sake of flesh. Honored by all the world, with banners and platforms, he was now like a shrine destroyed by Garuda for the sake of a serpent. Tara saw Rama, holding his mighty bow, and Lakshmana, and also her husband’s younger brother, standing nearby. Passing by them and reaching her husband slain in battle, Tara, distressed, fell to the ground in confusion. Rising again as if from sleep, crying out “Noble prince!”, she wept upon seeing her husband bound by the noose of death. Seeing her wailing like a curlew, Sugriva was seized by intense sorrow, especially upon seeing Angada arrive. Let now the twentieth sarga be heard, in the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, in the Kishkindha Kanda. Tara beheld Vali, his face like the moon, struck down on the ground by the death-dealing arrow released from Rama’s bow. Approaching her husband, the radiant Tara embraced Vali, who resembled a great elephant, seeing him struck by the arrow. Her mind tormented by grief, Tara, like a creeper uprooted, lamented over the monkey, who resembled a great mountain. “O hero, mighty in battle, foremost among the vanaras, why do you not now speak to me, who stand before you? Rise up, O tiger among the monkeys, and take to your excellent bed; for such noble kings do not lie upon the ground like this. O lord of the earth, the ground is indeed dear to you; even after your life has departed, you abandon me and seek her with your body. O hero, by your righteous conduct today, it is clear that the beautiful city of Kishkindha has been fashioned upon the path to heaven. Those delightful times we spent together in the honey-scented forests, you and I—now you have put an end to them. Devoid of joy and hope, I am plunged in an ocean of grief, now that you, the great leader of the mighty hosts, have met your end. My heart must be truly steadfast, seeing you fallen to the earth; for though scorched by sorrow, it does not shatter into a thousand pieces today. Sugriva’s wife was taken by you, and he was exiled; now, O lord of the monkeys, the retribution for that act has come upon you. Intent on your own welfare, you scorned me out of delusion, though I spoke words of good counsel to you, O king of the monkeys, wishing only your good. O bestower of honor, surely, with your beauty and youth and southern charm, you will agitate the hearts of the Apsarases, O noble one.” Thus Tara mourned, her grief echoing through the forest, as all those present witnessed the fall of the mighty Vali.