The elephants of the quarters trumpeted, the earth rocked, the mountains shook and the oceans were in turmoil. The gandharvas, gods, sages, serpents and Kinnaras, all rejoiced to know that their troubles were over. Myriads of monkeys, formidable warriors all, gnashed their teeth, while many more millions rushed on, crying, ‘Glory to Rama, Kosala’s lord, of mighty valour!’ Thus they hymned his praises.

Even the great Serpent King found himself unable to support the crushing weight of the belligerent troops and staggered again and again, but each time saved himself by clutching with his teeth the hard back of the tortoise. While doing so, he looked beautiful, which made one feel as though the Serpent King considered Rama’s splendid expedition supremely glorious and were inscribing its imperishable story on the shell of the tortoise (so that it might endure for ever)!

In this way Rama, abode of compassion, marched on and arrived at the seashore and halted there, and all around the hosts of valiant bears and monkeys began to devour fruit.

Ever since Hanuman had burnt Lanka and departed the demons there had been living in great fear. Each in his own home thought to himself: ‘There is no hope of safety for the demon race.

If his envoy was so indescribably mighty, what good would result when the master himself enters our city? When Mandodari (Ravana’s principal queen) heard from her female spies what the citizens were saying, she was still more disquieted.

Meeting her lord in seclusion, she fell at his feet and with folded hands addressed to him words steeped in sound judgement: ‘My lord, avoid all strife with Hari. Take my advice to heart, it is most wholesome.

Lord, if you value your own welfare, summon one of your ministers and send back with him the consort of him whose envoy did such deeds that the demons’ wives are overtaken by premature labour when they recall them.