हनूमते अङ्गुलीयकदानम्

Having sent the monkeys out to the four quarters, Sugrīva spoke about the task to Hanumān in particular, for he was convinced that this best of monkeys was the one who would accomplish it. The very first word, "in particular", sets the tone of the sarga: to all four bands he had given general orders, but to this one monkey he had something special to say, and the poet thereby shows that the weight of the task in truth rests on one pair of shoulders. Delighted, the lord of all the forest-dwellers said to the valiant son of the Wind: "Neither on earth nor in the air nor in the sky nor in the home of the gods nor in the waters do I see anything that could stop your going, bull among monkeys." That unchecked motion will prove itself when Hanumān leaps the ocean. "You know all the worlds, with their asuras, gandharvas, nāgas, men and gods, their seas and their mountains. Your motion, your speed, your energy and your lightness, great monkey, are those of your mighty father, the Wind. No creature on earth equals you in energy. So think hard about how Sītā can be found." Hanumān's gifts are counted here — motion, speed, energy, lightness and knowledge of the worlds — and lightness matters most, for it is what will make the leap across the sea possible. This praise is not mere flattery; it is the handing over of the task.

"In you alone, Hanumān, are strength, understanding and valour," Sugrīva went on, "and you, a master of policy, know how to suit your actions to place and time." Strength, understanding and valour joined with a sense of time and place and with statecraft are exactly what a messenger needs. Rāghava, seeing for himself that the task rested on Hanumān, and knowing what Hanumān was, fell to thinking. He did not speak; the poet records his inner thoughts so that we see his confidence directly. "This lord of the monkeys has set all his hopes on Hanumān," he reflected, "and Hanumān is even more determined to see the task through" — more determined, that is, than Sugrīva himself. "When a messenger sets out like this, his worth proven by his deeds and his master's trust behind him, the outcome is certain." Rāma's judgment names three grounds, the messenger's own resolve, a name made by past deeds, and his master's backing; where the three come together, success is sure.

Looking at the monkey, in whom resolve outweighed everything else, the mighty Rāma was as glad as if his purpose were already achieved, and his senses and his heart rejoiced. Well pleased, that scorcher of foes gave him a ring engraved with his own name, as a token for the princess. "By this sign, best of monkeys," he said, "Janaka's daughter will know that you have come from me and will look at you without fear." This is the thread on which the whole Sundara Kāṇḍa hangs, for without a token Sītā would never trust a strange monkey; and "without fear" is apt, since she lives surrounded by rākṣasīs and has every reason to be afraid. It was his name on the ring that made it a token, and the gift of the ring is the centre of the sarga and gives it its title. "Your resolve, hero, your courage and valour, and Sugrīva's message, seem to promise me success," Rāma said, letting his hope show, but only tentatively with that "seem"; he asks for nothing himself, but simply gives the sign, and his restraint is plain.

That best of monkeys took the ring and placed it on his head — receiving it not as an ornament but as a sacred gift, a gesture of devotion — then, with joined palms, bowed at Rāma's feet and set out. In a verse of a different metre the poet then says that the heroic son of the Wind, drawing that great host of monkeys after him, was like the full moon, its disc spotless, in a sky cleared of rain-clouds and graced by the host of stars. This image is the high point of the sarga: Hanumān is the moon, the monkey army the stars, and the cloudless sky the road without obstacles. Last of all Rāma called to him once more: "Monkey of surpassing strength, I lean on your strength. Best of monkeys, hero of no small valour, son of the Wind, Hanumān — act so that Janaka's daughter can be reached." Here Rāma himself admits that he depends on Hanumān's strength, a great honour from a master's lips, and the string of five names he calls him by shows his fervour in his very words.