राक्षसीनां सीताबोधनम्

Having spoken thus to Maithilī and given his orders to all the rākṣasīs, King Rāvaṇa, who makes his enemies wail, went out. The sarga opens by briefly retelling the last scene of the one before, Vālmīki's way of picking up the thread of the story. As soon as the lord of the rākṣasas had left and gone back into his inner palace, the fearsome rākṣasīs ran at Sītā from every side and surrounded her. Beside themselves with anger, they came up to Vaidehī and spoke to her in the harshest words: "Sītā, do you think so little of becoming the wife of the Ten-necked One, the great Rāvaṇa, most eminent of the descendants of Pulastya?" Their first argument was his lineage: Rāvaṇa came of Pulastya's line, so to be his wife was an honour. Rāvaṇa had told them to use conciliation, gifts, dissension and force; they began with conciliation, though their voices were harsh. While the king was present they had kept quiet; only once he was gone did they grow bold, as servants do. Sītā was alone as before, hemmed in on all sides by misshapen rākṣasīs, and from the tree Hanumān saw and heard everything. When the rākṣasīs call Rāvaṇa "great", the poet puts the praise in their mouths with irony.

Then a rākṣasī named Ekajaṭā, her eyes copper-red with anger, called to Sītā, whose waist was as slender as the palm of a hand, and said: "Of the six Prajāpatis, the fourth is the famous Pulastya, a mind-born son of Brahmā." The six are Marīci, Atri, Aṅgiras, Pulastya, Pulaha and Kratu. "Pulastya's mind-born son is the splendid great seer Viśravas, radiant as a Prajāpati himself. His son, large-eyed one, is Rāvaṇa, who makes his enemies wail, and you ought to become the wife of that lord of the rākṣasas. Lovely in every limb, why will you not agree to what I say?" Ekajaṭā traced the line back to Brahmā: Rāvaṇa was of priestly descent, a grandson of seers. Yet that very argument makes his fault worse, for a man born in a family of great seers was doing wrong. In the earlier sargas Sītā had recalled the family of her birth and the family of her marriage; here the rākṣasī set Rāvaṇa's lineage against them. The phrase "waist as slender as the palm of a hand" hints at how thin she had grown: with fasting her belly was as flat as a palm. There was more coaxing than command in Ekajaṭā's words, with sweet forms of address like "large-eyed one" and "lovely in every limb". She hoped to change Sītā's mind with talk of lineage because Sītā was herself of noble birth; but for Sītā her husband was her highest honour, not the question of whose descendant a husband might be.

Next a rākṣasī named Harijaṭā, with eyes like a cat's, rolled them in anger and said: "He conquered the thirty-three gods and the king of the gods himself; you ought to become the wife of that lord of the rākṣasas." The thirty-three are the twelve Ādityas, the eleven Rudras, the eight Vasus and the two Aśvins. "Why do you not long to be the wife of one so proud of his valour, so brave, who never turns back in battle, so mighty and so full of vigour? The mighty king Rāvaṇa will leave his dear and honoured wife, the most fortunate of them all, and come to you. He will leave his inner palace, rich with a thousand women and adorned with every kind of jewel, and come to you." Harijaṭā's argument was valour and good fortune: the conqueror of the gods would give up all his wives and choose Sītā alone. The rākṣasīs thought this was Sītā's great luck; Sītā saw only sin in it. The cat's eyes suggest Harijaṭā's predatory nature, and the poet brings the rākṣasīs on one after another like scenes in a play.

Another rākṣasī, Vikaṭā, said: "He whose terrible valour has conquered nāgas, gandharvas and dānavas in battle again and again has come to your side. Why, you wretch, do you not want to be the wife of the great Rāvaṇa, lord of the rākṣasas, who has every kind of wealth?" With "you wretch" the conciliation was turning harsh. Then a rākṣasī named Durmukhī said: "For fear of him the sun does not burn and the wind does not blow. Why, long-eyed lady, do you not stand by his side? For fear of him the trees rain down showers of flowers, and the mountains and clouds pour out water whenever he wishes. Why, proud lady, do you not set your mind on becoming the wife of Rāvaṇa, king of the nairṛtas, king of kings? Queen, you have been told what is right and true. Take my advice, sweet-smiling one, or you will not live." In those last words, "you will not live", the threat of death is plain; by the end of the sarga the rākṣasīs have moved all the way from persuasion to force. Durmukhī's description shows Rāvaṇa's mastery over the powers of nature: even the sun and the wind were held in check by fear of him. Sītā heard it all and kept silent; her answer comes in the next sarga. The rākṣasīs' speeches fall under four heads in turn: lineage, valour, wealth and fear.