रावणस्य मन्त्रिभिः मन्त्रणा

The scene now shifts from the northern shore of the sea to Rāvaṇa's court in Laṅkā. The lord of the rākṣasas had seen the fearful, terrible deed that great-souled Hanumān, like Śakra himself, had done in Laṅkā, and with his face lowered a little in shame he spoke to all the rākṣasas. "Laṅkā, the city no one could withstand, has been attacked and entered by a mere monkey, and Sītā, Janaka's daughter, has been seen. The temple-palace has been thrown down, eminent rākṣasas have been killed, and Hanumān has thrown the whole city into turmoil. Good fortune to you: what shall I do? What is fitting for us now? Tell us what is practicable, what would be well done once it is done." For the first time Rāvaṇa is seen ashamed. "A mere monkey" shows how deep the humiliation cuts: Rāvaṇa, conqueror of the three worlds, has been worsted by one monkey. The comparison of Hanumān with Śakra is worth noting too: even in the rākṣasas' eyes he is as mighty as Indra. Rāvaṇa's "what shall I do?" is not helplessness but the opening of a council, and "good fortune to you" is a king's courteous address. The order of these verses is also deliberate: first the sight of the deed, then its consequences, and finally the question.

"The wise say that victory is rooted in counsel," he went on, "and so, mighty ones, I wish to take counsel about Rāma. In this world men are of three kinds, the best, the lowest and the middling, and I will tell you the merits and faults of each. The man who joins with those able to decide on policy, his ministers, or friends who share his aims, or his kinsmen, or those above him, who takes counsel with them before he sets any undertaking going, and who makes his effort while also relying on providence, is called the best of men. The one who weighs a matter alone, sets his mind on duty alone and acts alone is called a middling man. And the one who does not weigh merits and faults, gives up any reliance on providence, says 'I will do it' and then neglects the task, is the lowest of men. Just as men are always best, lowest or middling, so counsel too is best, lowest or middling. Where the counsellors, their eyes guided by the śāstras, come to one mind and hold to it, that is called the best counsel. Where they go through many opinions but their decision comes round again to one, that counsel is called middling. And where each clings to his own opinion and they argue against one another, and there is no good to be had even from agreement, that is called the lowest counsel." Here Rāvaṇa speaks like a master of statecraft: he knows a king's duty, but his conduct is another matter. He decided on the abduction of Sītā by himself, not with his ministers, so by his own words he is the lowest of men. That is the poet's irony: without knowing it, Rāvaṇa is pronouncing his own condemnation. In the first sarga Rāma described three kinds of servant; here Rāvaṇa describes three kinds of men and of counsel. The two leaders give similar teaching, but their conduct differs. The three kinds of counsel match the three kinds of men: agreement is best, agreement after debate is middling, and endless dispute is lowest. In the sargas to come, Vibhīṣaṇa's dissent in Rāvaṇa's court will be an example of this lowest kind of counsel. In describing the best of men, note the words "relying on providence too": both human effort and providence are needed, and neither the man who leans on fate and does nothing nor the one who trusts only his own strength and ignores providence is the best. The mark of the lowest is saying "I will do it" and then neglecting the task, a promise with no deed behind it. And the counsellors' agreement is to be reached "with eyes guided by the śāstras": not simply approving the king's wishes, but deciding by the rules of right policy.

"So, you who are wisest in judgement, agree together on a well-considered course of action; I count this my business now. Surrounded by thousands of steadfast monkeys, Rāma is coming against Laṅkā to lay siege to us. It is perfectly plain that Rāghava, with his brother, his army and his followers, will cross the ocean easily by some fitting and forceful means. He will dry up the sea or do something else by his might. With things as they are and war with the monkeys upon us, consider everything that is good for the city and the army, and advise me." Here Rāvaṇa admits Rāma's power: "it is perfectly plain that he will cross." Having seen what Hanumān could do, he cannot make light of the strength of Rāma and the monkeys. Yet it never occurs to him to give Sītā back; his only question is how to fight. He calls Rāma a besieger, for in Rāvaṇa's eyes Rāma is the aggressor. In the next sarga the rākṣasas answer his question.