वानरसेनानां समागमः

As Sugrīva stood with folded hands and spoke, Rāma, best of those who uphold dharma, took him in both arms and answered. "It is no wonder in this world if Indra sends down rain, or if the thousand-rayed sun clears the sky of darkness, or if the moon with its light makes the night bright, gentle friend; nor is it any wonder, scorcher of foes, that one like you should do kindness to his friends." What is done by nature is no marvel; a good man's help is simply his nature, nothing out of the ordinary. By these examples of three great powers, Indra, the sun and the moon, Sugrīva is set in their company, a subtle form of praise. "So it is no wonder that everything good is found in you, dear friend; I know you always speak kindly. With you at my side, my friend, I shall conquer all my enemies in battle. You alone are my friend and well-wisher, and it is right that you should help me." He uses two words for friend, one who wishes him well and one bound to him in affection, and Sugrīva is both. "It is right that you should help me" is not an order but a request; mighty as he is, Rāma asks humbly, and so he raises his friend's spirit with praise and makes his request with love. The one once driven out by Vālin is now Rāma's ally in war; here we see how fortune has turned. And the epithet "best of those who uphold dharma" gives Rāma's words their authority.

"That vilest of rākṣasas carried off Maithilī by deceit, to his own destruction," Rāma went on, "as Anuhlāda once carried off Śacī, the daughter of Puloman. Before long I shall kill Rāvaṇa with my sharp arrows, as Indra of the hundred sacrifices, slayer of foes, killed Paulomī's arrogant father." The comparison is apt, for in the Purāṇas Anuhlāda, brother of Hiraṇyakaśipu, carried off Indra's queen and was destroyed, and so Rāvaṇa's end is foretold; "to his own destruction" is the seed of the sarga, for an evil deed destroys the one who does it, and the sharp arrows stand as witnesses to the vow. At that very moment a cloud of dust rose up and covered the fierce, hot light of the thousand-rayed sun in the sky. The quarters were darkened and thrown into confusion, and the whole earth shook, with its mountains, woods and groves. This sign came just after Rāma's vow: the dust was the coming of the monkey army, as though the very means of keeping the vow had arrived. The dust hiding the sun, the confusion of the quarters and the trembling earth are three marks of a great arrival that fill the listener with wonder; poets usually announce an army first by its dust, then by its sound and last by its sight, and that order is followed here.

Then the whole ground was covered by countless leaping monkeys of great strength, with sharp fangs, like the kings of mountains, huge and terrible. In the space of a blink it was covered by the monkey chiefs with their hundreds of millions of followers: mighty monkeys of the rivers, of the mountains and of the sea, monkeys roaring like thunderclouds, and others who live in the woods; monkeys the colour of the rising sun, monkeys white as the moon, monkeys the colour of lotus filaments, and white ones who make their homes on the golden mountain. They are grouped by where they live, rivers, mountains, seashore and forest, and by colour, red, white, yellow and pale, and the poet imagines that each takes on the colour of the mountain it lives on. "In the space of a blink" shows their amazing speed, and the roaring like thunder shows that the army's size could be guessed by its sound even before it was seen.

Then the glorious hero Śatabali, whose very name speaks of his strength, appeared surrounded by ten thousand times ten million monkeys. Then Tārā's valiant father, bright as a golden mountain, appeared with many thousands of millions. With yet another thousand times ten million came the mighty father of Rumā, Sugrīva's father-in-law. That both his fathers-in-law, old troop leaders, came with their forces shows that Sugrīva's standing was secure in his family as well as in his kingdom. Then, with many thousands of monkeys, appeared the illustrious Kesarī, father of Hanumān, the colour of lotus filaments, his face like the rising sun, wise, best of monkeys and foremost of them all; he is known as Hanumān's father, the son's greatness giving the father his fame, a pleasing reversal of the usual order. Here the troop leaders are named one after another with their numbers, a well-known form in poetry by which names and figures convey the size of an army, and each is said to "appear" in turn, showing them coming one by one.

Gavākṣa, great king of the golāṅgūlas, of terrible valour, was seen surrounded by a thousand times ten million. Dhūmra, destroyer of foes, came with two thousand times ten million bears of terrible speed; so kinds other than monkeys were in this army too. With fierce monkeys like great mountains came the mighty troop leader Panasa, surrounded by thirty million. The troop leader Nīla, huge of body and shaped like a heap of black collyrium, appeared surrounded by a hundred million. Then the mighty troop leader Gavaya, bright as a golden mountain, came surrounded by fifty million. The strong troop leader Darīmukha came up with a thousand times ten million and took his place close by Sugrīva, a sign that he was trusted. Mainda and Dvivida, both sons of the Aśvins and of great strength, were seen with a thousand times ten million times ten million monkeys, the largest number of all, and their birth from gods is recalled. The colour, strength and following of each leader are told separately, and this orderly count shows the army's discipline; Nīla like collyrium, Gavaya like a golden mountain, Panasa like a great hill differ in colour and shape, and the names of Panasa, Nīla and Gavaya will be heard again in the Yuddha Kāṇḍa.

The mighty hero Gaja, of great splendour, came before Sugrīva surrounded by thirty million. The king of the bears, the splendid Jāmbavān, came with a hundred million and stood at Sugrīva's command; old as he was, the king of the bears obeyed the young monkey king, and that shows his humility. The spirited Rumaṇa came swiftly in his strength, surrounded by valiant monkeys, a thousand million of them. Then Gandhamādana arrived, followed by a hundred thousand thousands of tens of millions of monkeys. Then came the crown prince Aṅgada, his father's equal in valour, surrounded by a thousand padmas and a hundred śaṅkus; "his father's equal" wakes the memory of Vālin. Then Tāra, shining like a star, was seen in the distance with fifty million monkeys of terrible valour, his radiance likened to that of a star, as his name means. These numbers are not meant to be added up; they only ring with the sense of the measureless, and the listener does not count, he simply wonders. Even "seen in the distance" marks the order in which each came into view.

Indrajānu, a wise hero and troop leader, appeared as lord of a hundred and ten million, surrounded by them. Then Rambha, bright as the rising sun, arrived with ten thousand and a thousand and a hundred. Then the strong troop leader Durmukha appeared, surrounded by twenty million. Hanumān appeared surrounded by a thousand times ten million monkeys of terrible valour, shaped like the peaks of Kailāsa. Hanumān is named among the others, not singled out; his greatness will show itself in the sargas that follow, and his monkeys, white like Kailāsa, fit the variety of colours described before. Mighty Nala too arrived, surrounded by tree-dwelling monkeys, a thousand million, a thousand and a hundred; listeners of the Rāmāyaṇa will remember that it is he who will build the bridge. Then the illustrious Dadhimukha came roaring before the great-souled Sugrīva, surrounded by a hundred million, his roar the natural shout of a monkey's joy.

Śarabha, Kumuda, Vahni and the monkey Raṃha, and many others besides, monkeys who could take any form, came covering the whole earth, the mountains and the forests, troop leaders beyond counting. With "beyond counting" the poet himself gives up the count: those who could be counted are named, and the rest are measureless. All the monkeys of the earth had come and settled there, first arriving, then each taking his place, so that the ordering of the army begins here. Leaping, bounding and roaring, the monkeys moved around Sugrīva as banks of cloud move around the sun; Sugrīva is the sun, and the monkeys circle their king as clouds circle the sun. Making a great noise, tall and strong-armed, they bowed their heads and presented themselves to Sugrīva, lord of the monkeys, offering themselves with a bow.

Other chiefs of the monkeys greeted one another as was fitting, came before Sugrīva and stood with folded hands. Sugrīva, who knew what was right, quickly presented all those bulls among monkeys to Rāma and stood with folded hands to speak, his humility shown once more. Then that knower of armies, lord of the monkey chiefs, settled their forces duly and at their ease among all the mountain streams and forests, and so had his host at his command. Placing an army properly is a commander's first task. "Knower of armies" praises Sugrīva as a general, for only one who knows the measure of his forces can use them well; "at their ease" shows that a leader thinks of his army's comfort, and "duly" that the arrangement follows the rules of war. So this sarga, which began with the gathering of the army, ends with its encampment, and in the next Sugrīva begins to send the monkeys out to the quarters of the earth.