विभीषणस्य शरणागमनं मन्त्रिभिः सह विमर्शश्च

Having spoken those harsh words to Rāvaṇa, Rāvaṇa's younger brother came within a moment to where Rāma was with Lakṣmaṇa. The monkey chiefs standing on the ground saw him in the sky, shaped like a peak of Meru and shining like a flash of lightning. His four followers too were of fearsome valour, clad in armour, bearing weapons and adorned with the finest ornaments, and he himself, like a cloud or a mountain, shone like Indra with his thunderbolt, a hero bearing excellent weapons and decked with heavenly ornaments. When the wise and unassailable Sugrīva, lord of the monkeys, saw him with four companions, he took thought with the monkeys. Vibhīṣaṇa comes by way of the sky; reaching the northern shore he does not come down but stays in the air, a sign of caution, since landing suddenly in an enemy's army would be dangerous. His huge body is compared to a peak of Meru and to a cloud or mountain, and the lightning describes the glitter of his ornaments. He comes "with four companions", his four counsellors and himself the fifth. Sugrīva's worry is natural: the enemy's brother suddenly appears in the sky, armed. Vibhīṣaṇa's ornaments and weapons show his royal birth, for he is no common servant but a prince, and it is precisely his being armed that makes the monkeys suspicious. He is in the sky and they on the ground, and their minds are full of fear and doubt.

After a moment's thought Sugrīva said to all the monkeys, with Hanumān at their head: "Look: this rākṣasa, armed with every weapon, is coming with four rākṣasas to kill us, no doubt of it." At Sugrīva's words all those fine monkeys raised sāl trees and rocks and said: "Quickly order us, king, to kill these wicked ones, so that they drop dead and senseless to the ground." The monkeys' eagerness shows their loyalty to their master and their readiness for battle; they will not strike without an order, but they stand ready. Sugrīva takes Vibhīṣaṇa for an enemy at first sight, from his own experience, for Vālin too was his kinsman, and rākṣasas can take any shape they please. His "look!" puts everyone on guard. And in calling them "wicked ones" the monkeys show their prejudice: to them every rākṣasa is wicked.

While they were talking among themselves, Vibhīṣaṇa reached the northern shore and stayed there, poised in the sky. Still in the air, the great and very wise Vibhīṣaṇa looked at Sugrīva and the others and called out in a loud voice: "There is a wicked rākṣasa named Rāvaṇa, lord of the rākṣasas. I am his younger brother, known as Vibhīṣaṇa. He killed Jaṭāyus and carried off Sītā from Janasthāna, and he holds her captive, wretched and helpless, closely guarded by rākṣasīs. Again and again, with every kind of reason and argument, I urged him: 'Do the right thing and give Sītā back to Rāma.' But Rāvaṇa, driven by Time, would not accept the good advice I gave him, just as a dying man will not take his medicine. He spoke harshly to me and treated me with contempt like a slave, and so I have left my sons and my wife and come to Rāghava for refuge. Tell great-souled Rāghava, the refuge of all the worlds, quickly that Vibhīṣaṇa has come." His declaration is simple and true; he hides nothing, telling in order his lineage, Rāvaṇa's crime, his own efforts, the insult and his renunciation. As a dying patient refuses medicine, so Rāvaṇa refused good counsel. Calling Rāma "the refuge of all the worlds" points ahead to Rāma's tenderness towards those who seek his protection; having turned to him, Vibhīṣaṇa seems already at ease. He gives his name as one "known as Vibhīṣaṇa", a well-known name the monkeys may have heard from Hanumān. Leaving his sons and wife means he has given up everything and come without any assurance. He speaks from the sky and does not come down without leave, as befits one who seeks refuge. And his description of Sītā, captive, helpless, wretched and closely guarded, is bound to stir Rāma's compassion.

Hearing this, swift-striding Sugrīva spoke to Rāma in agitation, with Lakṣmaṇa present. "An enemy has come among his foes, unforeseen; once he finds his chance he may kill us as an owl kills crows. You must be watchful in counsel, in the ordering of the troops, in policy and in the use of spies, scorcher of foes, for the good of the monkeys and to hold back the enemy. These rākṣasas can make themselves invisible and take any form they please; they are brave and skilled in deceit, and they should never be trusted. This may be a spy of Rāvaṇa, lord of the rākṣasas; once among us he will sow division, no doubt of it. Or, clever as he is, he may himself find an opening and strike at some moment, once he has been trusted and let in. The troops of allies, of forest tribes, of hereditary soldiers and of hired men may all be accepted, but never the troops of the enemy. My lord, this man is a rākṣasa by nature and our enemy's brother; he comes as an open foe, so how can he be trusted? Rāvaṇa's younger brother, known as Vibhīṣaṇa, has come to you for refuge with four rākṣasas. Know that this Vibhīṣaṇa has been sent by Rāvaṇa. I think it right to seize him, best of the forbearing. Sinless one, this rākṣasa has come here under orders, with crooked intent, cloaked in illusion, to strike you once you trust him. Let him and his ministers be put to death with severe punishment, for this Vibhīṣaṇa is cruel Rāvaṇa's brother." Having said this to Rāma, the agitated commander of the army, skilled in speech, fell silent before Rāma, who was no less skilled. Sugrīva's fears are not groundless: for him his master's safety comes first. An owl at night kills sleeping crows, and so this rākṣasa might kill them once they trusted him. His speech is full of the technical terms of statecraft: counsel, meaning secret deliberation; the ordering of the troops; policy; the use of spies; the secret agent; and sowing division within the ranks. The kinds of troops he lists, allies, forest tribes, hereditary soldiers and hired men, are all to be trusted, but not the troops of an enemy. "Crooked intent" means sent by Rāvaṇa with a devious purpose, and Rāma's safety, "once you trust him", is Sugrīva's chief concern. His speech moves from general policy to a specific conclusion, and he even repeats Vibhīṣaṇa's own words, "known as Vibhīṣaṇa", "come for refuge", but reads them with suspicion. Having given his opinion, he waits for Rāma's decision.

Hearing Sugrīva's words, mighty Rāma said to the monkeys around him, Hanumān and the rest: "You too have heard what the king of the monkeys has said about Rāvaṇa's younger brother, words full of reasons. In difficult matters a friend who is wise and able and who wants one's lasting welfare should always give counsel." So asked, they eagerly and courteously told Rāma each his own opinion, wanting to please him. "Rāghava, there is nothing in the three worlds unknown to you; you ask us out of friendship, Rāma, and so honour yourself. For you are true to your vows, brave, righteous, firm in valour, one who acts only after examining, of good memory, and one who gives himself wholly to his friends. So let your counsellors, able and wise, speak one by one, giving their reasons, again and again." Rāma's question shows his ideal of leadership: though able to decide for himself, he hears everyone's view and does not treat Sugrīva's as final. In the monkeys' eyes, by asking them he really adds to his own glory, since, all-knowing though he is, he asks with humility. He "gives himself wholly to his friends", trusting them completely. Their reply is courteous, humble and full of praise for their master. The words "one by one" are followed in what comes: Aṅgada, Śarabha, Jāmbavān, Mainda and Hanumān. Rāma reminds his counsellors of their duty: in a crisis, a friend who truly wants his master's lasting good should always advise him, saying what is good and not merely what is pleasant. The monkeys acknowledge that nothing in the three worlds is unknown to Rāma, and they count up his many virtues.

When they had said this, wise Aṅgada spoke first, proposing that Vibhīṣaṇa be tested. "He has come from the enemy's side, so he must be viewed with suspicion in every way; Vibhīṣaṇa should not be trusted rashly. Men of crooked mind go about hiding their true nature and strike at weak points, and that would be a great disaster. One should act only after weighing gain and loss, accepting a man for his merits and rejecting him for his faults. If there is great fault in him, king, let him be rejected without hesitation; if you find many merits, let him be accepted." Then Śarabha gave his considered opinion, full of sense: "Tiger among men, let a spy be set on him at once. Have him examined properly by a spy of subtle mind, and then accept him as is right." Then discerning Jāmbavān, weighing the matter with a mind trained in the śāstras, offered advice full of merit and free of fault: "Vibhīṣaṇa comes from that wicked lord of the rākṣasas, who is bound in enmity with us, and he comes at the wrong place and the wrong time; let him be suspected in every way." Then Mainda, eloquent and skilled in sound and unsound policy, thought it over and spoke still more reasonably: "Lord of kings, this Vibhīṣaṇa is, after all, Rāvaṇa's younger brother; let him be questioned gently and gradually. When you have truly understood his disposition, whether he means harm or not, you will act on it with deliberation, bull among men." The four opinions differ, but doubt lies at the root of all of them: Aṅgada proposes weighing his merits and faults, Śarabha testing him through a secret agent, Jāmbavān points to the wrong place and time, and Mainda proposes questioning him directly. Aṅgada's maxim, accept a man for his merits and reject him for his faults, sums up all their views. As crown prince he speaks first, and his view is a middle one, neither outright refusal nor outright acceptance but a test. Śarabha's plan is to have a sharp-witted agent watch Vibhīṣaṇa's conduct and report. Jāmbavān, old and learned, argues that anyone who comes over from the enemy at the start of a war must be suspected; since Rāvaṇa is bound in enmity with them and wicked by nature, whoever comes from him cannot be free of his influence. Mainda's gentle questioning is the approach Hanumān will next show to be flawed. So all four counsellors want Vibhīṣaṇa tested, while Sugrīva wants him killed. The order of speakers is deliberate too: first the crown prince, then the commanders, and last Hanumān, like a senior minister. Aṅgada's "weighing gain and loss" means acting only after settling what an undertaking will win or lose, and Mainda's "with deliberation" means deciding only after understanding his mind, not in haste.

Then Hanumān, best of counsellors and refined by learning, spoke words that were gentle, meaningful, sweet and brief. "Not even Bṛhaspati could outdo you in speaking, for you are foremost in wisdom, able and the best of speakers. I shall speak, King Rāma, not to argue, not out of rivalry, not to seem superior and not from any wish of my own, but truly, because of the weight of the matter. In what your counsellors have said about gain and loss I see a flaw: a test is not possible now. Without giving him a task, his ability cannot be known, yet to give him one hastily also seems to me a mistake. As for setting spies on him, there is nothing for them to find out, so there is no ground for it. As for his coming at the wrong place and time, I have something to say; hear it as I understand it. This is exactly the right place and time, for it is by comparing one man with another that faults and merits are discerned. He has seen the wickedness of Rāvaṇa and the valour in you, and so his coming is fitting and worthy of his intelligence. As for questioning him through men in disguise, I have a considered view: an intelligent man who is questioned would at once suspect the words, and a friend who has come in good faith would be offended by deceitful questioning. It is not possible, king, to know another's heart quickly, however closely one watches for a change of voice now and then. But no wickedness at all is seen in him as he speaks, and his face is serene; so I have no doubt. A deceitful man does not come forward calm and without fear, and there is nothing evil in his words; so I have no doubt. A man's bearing cannot be hidden, however he tries; it inevitably lays bare what he feels inside. A task suited to place and time, best of those who know what must be done, bears fruit quickly when it is carried out by the right means. He has seen your preparations and Rāvaṇa's falsehood, and heard that Vālin was killed and Sugrīva crowned, and he has come here deliberately, hoping for a kingdom. Taking all this into account, it is right to receive him. I have said what I can about the rākṣasa's honesty; for the rest, best of the wise, you have heard, and you are the judge." Hanumān's speech is the high point of the sarga. He examines each earlier opinion in turn and refutes it, and then establishes his own with reasons. His evidence comes from reading the man: the serenity of his face, the innocence of his words, his calm and fearless mind, and a bearing that cannot be hidden. His political reasoning is sound too: Vibhīṣaṇa wants a kingdom, and hearing that Rāma crowned Sugrīva, he hopes for the same, so even his self-interest ties him to Rāma's side. "Refined by learning" speaks of Hanumān's knowledge and eloquence, and his words have four qualities: gentle, meaningful, pleasant to hear and brief. He first praises Rāma, then declares that he speaks not for argument, rivalry, self-display or desire. A test is impossible here, for there is no time for one with the enemy so near; a man's ability cannot be known without a task, yet a hasty task is also a mistake, so both ways of testing are unsuitable. A spy's purpose is to learn what is hidden, but Vibhīṣaṇa tells everything himself, so a spy has nothing to do. "This is the right place and time" means that now, when Rāvaṇa's wickedness and Rāma's valour are both plain, is the proper moment to seek refuge; had he come earlier, Rāma's strength would not yet have been known. A sincere friend questioned by trickery would feel insulted and turn hostile. That a man's bearing reveals his heart is a well-known maxim of statecraft, and his refrain "so I have no doubt" rests on two grounds, the serenity of Vibhīṣaṇa's face and the innocence of his words. The three parts of a successful undertaking are place, time and means. Hanumān does not hide Vibhīṣaṇa's self-interest: that very interest will keep him on Rāma's side, which makes him trustworthy. And in closing, "you are the judge", he leaves the final decision to Rāma, the humility of the best of counsellors. He never names the others, saying only "what your counsellors have said", so no one is slighted. In the next sarga Rāma accepts Hanumān's view and grants Vibhīṣaṇa refuge.