रावणकृतः विभीषणतिरस्कारः विभीषणस्य निर्गमनं च

Vibhīṣaṇa had spoken well-founded words for his brother's good, but Rāvaṇa, driven by Time, answered him harshly. "A man may live with a rival, or with an angry venomous snake, but never with one who calls himself a friend while he serves the enemy. I know the nature of kinsmen in every world, rākṣasa: kinsmen always rejoice in the misfortunes of their kin. The foremost man among them, the one who gets things done, the learned, the righteous and the brave, his kinsmen despise and humiliate. Always pleased with one another, quick to strike in times of trouble, their hearts concealed, kinsmen are dreadful and to be feared. We hear of verses that elephants once sang in a lotus wood when they saw men with nooses in their hands; listen while I tell them: 'Fire does not frighten us, nor other weapons, nor nooses; it is our dreadful kinsmen, bent on their own ends, whom we fear. They will show the way to catch us, no doubt of it; of all dangers, the danger from kinsmen has been ordained the cruellest.' In cows there is wealth, in women fickleness, in a brahmin austerity, and from kinsmen there is always danger. So, gentle brother, you cannot bear it that I am honoured by the world, possess sovereignty, am nobly born and stand on the heads of my enemies." Rāvaṇa takes Vibhīṣaṇa's good advice for self-seeking jealousy, and imagines him as a servant of the enemy and a kinsman greedy for the kingdom. With the verses sung by the elephants he argues that it is kinsmen who show the way to capture, just as trained elephants help men catch wild ones; the danger from kinsmen, the elephants say, is the most painful of all. The flaw in Rāvaṇa's reasoning is plain: he applies a general rule to a particular case, and because he thinks all kinsmen jealous he takes even Vibhīṣaṇa's true concern for jealousy. He names four faults of kinsmen, pleasure in one another's misfortune, attacking in adversity, hidden hearts and cruelty; and he sees in himself all five virtues he lists, leadership, getting things done, learning, righteousness and bravery, which is why he imagines Vibhīṣaṇa envies him. His pride shows openly at the end: the world's honour, sovereignty, noble birth and victory over his enemies. The elephants' verses point to an old folk tale in which elephants fear not men's nooses but their own kind.

"As drops of water that fall on lotus leaves do not cling, so is friendship with the ignoble. As autumn clouds thunder and rain yet never soak the earth, so is friendship with the ignoble. As a bee, from its thirst, does not stay even where it finds nectar, so are you, and so is friendship with the ignoble. As a bee, from its thirst, may drink from the kāśa flower yet find no sweetness there, so is friendship with the ignoble. As an elephant first bathes and then takes up dust in its trunk and soils its own body, so is friendship with the ignoble. If anyone else had said such things, night-rover, he would not live another moment. Shame on you, disgrace of our family!" The five similes are strung on a single refrain, "so is friendship with the ignoble", and the repetition shows the force of Rāvaṇa's anger. Each simile shows a different flaw in such friendship: it does not cling, it bears no fruit, it does not stay, it has no sweetness, and it defiles itself. Rāvaṇa spares Vibhīṣaṇa's life only because he is his brother, "if anyone else had said this", and his anger has reached its limit. "Disgrace of our family" is the final insult, and it is this that makes Vibhīṣaṇa leave Laṅkā.

Spoken to so harshly, Vibhīṣaṇa, who had spoken only what was just, rose into the air, mace in hand, with four rākṣasas. Standing in the sky, the glorious Vibhīṣaṇa, now roused to anger, said to his brother, the lord of the rākṣasas: "You are deluded, king; say to me whatever you like. As my elder you deserve honour like a father, but you do not keep to the path of dharma. This harsh speech of yours I will not bear, elder though you are." Vibhīṣaṇa's rising into the air is symbolic: he is leaving Rāvaṇa's court, Laṅkā and the unrighteousness of the rākṣasa race. The four rākṣasas are his followers, who will be seen with him in the next sarga as well. He grants his elder brother the honour due to him but will not tolerate wrongdoing, and that is how he resolves his dilemma of duty.

"Ten-faced one, men without self-control who have fallen into the power of Time do not accept wise words spoken by one who wishes them well. Men who always say pleasant things are easy to find, king; one who speaks what is unpleasant but wholesome, and one who will listen to it, are rare. I could not stand by and watch you perish, bound by the noose of Time that carries off all beings, like a house on fire. I do not want to see you struck down by Rāma's sharp, gold-adorned arrows, blazing like fire. Heroes, strong men and masters of weapons, once Time has seized them, sink down in battle like dams of sand. Forgive what I said; I said it wishing your good, because you are my elder. Protect yourself by every means, and this city with its rākṣasas. Farewell; I shall go. Be happy without me. My words, holding you back as one who wishes you well, do not please you, night-rover; for men whose life is spent, when their end has come, do not accept the good counsel of their friends." Vibhīṣaṇa's parting words are moving and grave: he sets his anger aside and again wishes his brother well. The saying that one who speaks unpleasant but wholesome words, and one who will hear them, are rare is famous everywhere. Dams of sand collapse suddenly in a flood, and so do heroes whom Time has seized. The theme of Time runs through his words, "in the power of Time", "the noose of Time", "seized by Time", "when their end has come", suggesting that Rāvaṇa's loss of judgement is a sign of approaching death. As no one ignores his own house when it is burning, so Vibhīṣaṇa cannot ignore his brother. He spoke "because you are my elder", out of respect, not hatred. And "be happy without me" carries a hidden edge: without me there will be no happiness for you.