He who had the ocean bridged as a mere pastime, the Lord who has encamped with his host on Mount Suvela, the same gracious Banner of the Solar race sent you in your own interest an envoy,

- who, like a lion among a herd of elephants, trampled on your might in the very midst of the assembly. Though he has for his servant such formidable warriors as Angad and Hanuman, both lusty leaders of the fray,

still, husband, you speak of him over and over again as a mortal and vainly carry on your head the burden of pride, attachment and arrogance. O my lord, you have opposed Rama and, overtaken as you are by Doom, the light of wisdom does not dawn on your mind.

Doom does not strike anyone with uplifted rod; all he does is to rob a man of piety, strength, reason and judgement. He whose Doom draws near falls a prey to delusion, even as you have now, my lord.

Two of your sons have been slain and your city has been burnt; retrace your step even now, my beloved; worship Raghunatha, ocean of grace, and thus, my lord, win for yourself the most spotless renown.’

Hearing the words of is consort that pierced him like a shaft, Ravana arose at daybreak and left for his council-chamber. Forgetting all his fears, he went and took his seat upon his throne, bloated with pride.

Meanwhile, Rama summoned Angad, who came and bowed his head at Rama’s lotus feet. Kharari, the gracious Lord, most courteously seated him by his side and then said with a smile,