वानराणां किष्किन्धागमनं सीतादर्शननिवेदनं च

Thus addressed by Sugrīva, the monkey Dadhimukha, delighted, saluted Rāghava, Lakṣmaṇa and Sugrīva. Having bowed to Sugrīva and to the two mighty Rāghavas, he flew up into the sky with his brave monkeys, and went back as swiftly as he had come, eager to carry out the king's order; dropping from the sky to the ground, he entered the grove. In Madhuvana he found the leaders of the monkey troops sober now and no longer unruly, passing water mixed with honey, the natural result of drinking so much. Their drunkenness had passed, and from now on they would act with judgement. The hero went up to them, joined his palms, and joyfully spoke to Aṅgada in gentle words: "Gentle prince, do not be angry that these guards, out of ignorance and anger, tried to stop you. You are weary and have come a long way; eat your own honey. You are the crown prince, mighty one, and lord of this grove." Notice how Dadhimukha had changed: he who had gone away wanting punishment now asked forgiveness with joined palms. That was the fruit of the king's command and of Dadhimukha's own humility. By calling Aṅgada gentle, mighty and crown prince he acknowledged his authority, and he now called the grove Aṅgada's own. In saying the guards acted out of ignorance and anger, not knowing the monkeys had succeeded, he both shielded his own servants and made light of the offence.

"Forgive me the anger I showed before in my folly," he said. "Just as your father Vālin was once lord of the monkey hosts, so are you, best of monkeys, and so is Sugrīva, and no one else is our master. I went, sinless one, and told your uncle Sugrīva that all these forest-dwellers had come here. When he heard that you had come with them, he was delighted, and not angry even though he heard that the grove had been ravaged. Your uncle Sugrīva, the king, lord of the monkeys, was delighted and told me: 'Send them all quickly.'" Dadhimukha saw Vālin and Sugrīva alike as his masters, and Aṅgada as heir to both, which makes Aṅgada's place in the monkey kingdom clear, and in saying no one else was their master he declared his loyalty to the royal house. He called his own earlier anger folly and did not blame Aṅgada. He also openly admitted that he had gone and reported the matter, not hiding it, as a truthful servant should. Sugrīva's message, as he gave it, had three parts: delight, no anger, and a command to come at once.

Hearing these gentle words of Dadhimukha, Aṅgada, best of monkeys and skilled in speech, said to the others: "Leaders of the monkey troops, I suspect this news has already reached Rāma. This monkey speaks out of joy, and from that I know it. So, scorchers of foes, now that our task is done, it is not right for us to stay here. You valiant forest-dwellers have drunk honey to your hearts' content; what is left but to go where the monkey Sugrīva is? Whatever all of you, bulls among monkeys, tell me together, that I shall do; I am in your hands. Though I am the crown prince, I am not the master to command you; it is not right to force you, who have accomplished your task." His words had three parts: a guess, that Rāma had heard; a decision, that they must not stay; and humility, that he was in their hands. He read the news from the joy in Dadhimukha's face, just as Sugrīva had read it from the monkeys' revelry; the same kind of inference appears on both sides. He honoured the monkeys as those who had done the work, companions and not mere servants. Aṅgada's humility here is supreme: after his drunkenness he knew his fault and laid his authority aside. When they heard these excellent words, the forest-dwellers were glad at heart and said: "King, bull among monkeys, what master would speak like this? Drunk with power, everyone thinks 'I am all.' Such words befit you and no one else; your humility shows you are fit for the good fortune to come. We too are all ready and eager to go where Sugrīva is, the undying lord of the monkey heroes. Without your command, best of monkeys, no monkey can go anywhere, not a single step; we tell you this truly." The monkeys, for their part, saw in his humility the sign of his future kingship, and their answer showed not an independent decision but their waiting on his command, a proof of their loyalty. Once, while fasting to death, Aṅgada had been anxious about the kingdom; now, with the monkeys' affection won, he was at ease. This scene of mutual respect is the opposite of the quarrel of the last two sargas.

When they had spoken, Aṅgada answered, "Very well, let us go," and with that the mighty monkeys flew up into the sky. All the leaders of the monkey troops flew up after him as he rose, filling the sky so that no space was left, like stones hurled from a sling, an image of their speed and certainty of direction. With Aṅgada and the monkey Hanumān in front, the swift monkeys leapt suddenly into the sky and went on roaring loudly like clouds driven by the wind. As Aṅgada drew near, though still in the sky, Sugrīva, lord of the monkeys, said to lotus-eyed Rāma, who was burning with grief: "Take heart, and may good fortune be yours. The queen has been found; there is no doubt of it." Here the poet shifts the scene in mid-sarga from Madhuvana to Kiṣkindhā, the monkeys in the sky, Sugrīva and Rāma waiting on the ground, a dramatic turn. Sure of his inference, Sugrīva comforted Rāma even before they arrived, and his blessing already signals the end of Rāma's grief.

"Having overstayed their appointed time," he said, "they could not have come back here if they had failed; and I know it from Aṅgada's delight, you whose sight brings good fortune. Had the task miscarried, the mighty-armed crown prince Aṅgada, best of leapers, would not come into my presence. Even if those who had failed might do some such thing, his face would be woeful and his mind distracted and confused. And he would never have destroyed my Madhuvana, inherited from my father and grandfather and guarded by my forebears, without having found Janaka's daughter. Kausalyā is blessed in her son, Rāma; take heart, you who keep your vows. The queen has been found, there is no doubt of it, and by none other than Hanumān. No one but Hanumān could have brought this about; in Hanumān, wisest of men, are success and intelligence, resolve, courage and learning. Where Jāmbavān is leader, Aṅgada lord of the monkeys and Hanumān the director, the outcome cannot be otherwise. Do not be troubled now, you of boundless valour. When the forest-dwellers have come together so proud and exultant, their conduct cannot be that of failures; I know it from the breaking of the grove and the eating of the honey." Just then he heard, close by in the sky, the kilakilā cries of the forest-dwellers, proud of Hanumān's deed, roaring as they approached Kiṣkindhā as though proclaiming their success. Sugrīva repeated to Rāma himself the reasoning he had given Lakṣmaṇa in the previous sarga; this was his first direct comfort to Rāma. He counted four signs, the overstaying of the time, Aṅgada's delight, the ruin of the grove and the monkeys' pride, each enough on its own and all together a certainty. The appointed time was the month Sugrīva had given the monkeys in the Kiṣkindhā Kāṇḍa; those who came back after it with nothing to show knew they would be punished, so their very return was proof of success. A monkey who had failed would be woeful and confused, and Aṅgada was not. "Kausalyā is blessed in her son" praises Rāma's mother, and calling him "you of boundless valour" reminded him that, with Sītā found, the time for his valour had come. Rāma here stays silent and only listens, his anxiety eased by Sugrīva's words. And the monkeys' kilakilā cries told the news before any words were spoken.

Hearing that uproar of the monkeys, Sugrīva, best of monkeys, stretched out and curled up his tail, his heart full of joy, the natural sign of gladness in a monkey, even a king. The monkeys too arrived, eager to see Rāma, with Aṅgada and the monkey Hanumān at their head, and those joyful heroes led by Aṅgada came down beside the king of the monkeys and Rāghava, landing first before the king and Rāma, as messengers should. Mighty-armed Hanumān bowed his head and told Rāghava that the queen was steadfast in her vows and unharmed. His very first words spoke of her faithfulness and her bodily safety together, the two things Rāma would most want to know, and he bowed first and spoke after, an envoy's humility. Hearing from Hanumān's lips the words, sweet as nectar, "The queen has been found," Rāma rejoiced, and Lakṣmaṇa with him. Lakṣmaṇa, full of love, looked with great respect at Sugrīva, who was glad and who had been so sure of the Wind's son, for his inference had proved true; and Rāghava, slayer of hostile heroes, filled with the highest delight, looked on Hanumān with great honour, for he was the one who had achieved the task. So the poet gives each his due honour, and the sarga ends in the gratitude of both brothers. Here Rāma only looks and does not speak; his questions begin in the next sarga.