शरणागतरक्षणव्रतम्

Rāma, invincible and deeply learned, heard the words of the Wind-god's son with a glad heart, for he heard in them what already lay in his own mind, and he answered: "I too wish to say something about Vibhīṣaṇa, and I want to hear what all of you, who stand for what is good, think of it. One who has come to me in friendship I would never on any account turn away. Even if he had some fault, the good would not blame me for that." Rāma's very first words reveal his decision: he does not weigh the merits and faults of the one who seeks refuge, but looks to his own duty. He is glad because Hanumān has put into words what was already in his own heart. Good people do not abandon even a faulty man who comes to them for refuge; in their eyes this is no cause for blame. And though he has heard his counsellors, Rāma puts his own view forward humbly, "I want to hear what you think"; he does not command but seeks everyone's agreement.

Then Sugrīva, bull among monkeys, turned these words over, thought about them and made a still sharper point: "Whether this night-rover is wicked or not, what does it matter? A man who would abandon his own brother when such a disaster has befallen him, whom would he not abandon?" Hearing the monkey king's words, Kākutstha, true in valour, looked round at them all and, smiling a little, spoke to Lakṣmaṇa of the auspicious marks. Sugrīva's argument is sharp: a man who deserts his own brother in a crisis will desert us too when the chance comes. But there is irony in it, for Sugrīva himself had left his brother Vālin and sought refuge with Rāma, and that is why Rāma smiles a little.

"No one who had not studied the śāstras and served his elders could speak as the lord of the monkeys has spoken. Yet I see something subtler here, something plain to see in the world and true of all kings. Enemies, it is said, are of two kinds, kinsmen of one's own family and neighbouring rulers, and both strike when a king is in trouble. That is why he has come here, afraid. Kinsmen who are free of evil honour their own family as their well-wishers; even so, a kinsman, however good, is usually an object of suspicion to kings. As for the fault you spoke of in accepting someone from the enemy's forces, listen while I tell you what the śāstras say. We are not of his family, and the rākṣasa wants a kingdom; and among the rākṣasas too there must be men of understanding. So Vibhīṣaṇa should be accepted. At ease and delighted, such men will come over to us; and this great outcry has arisen among the rākṣasas, fear of one another has come upon them, and so they will fall apart. So Vibhīṣaṇa should be accepted. Not all brothers are like Bharata, my friend, nor are all sons like me, nor all friends like you." Rāma's reasoning rests on statecraft. Vibhīṣaṇa is Rāvaṇa's kinsman and so fears Rāvaṇa, since the danger from kinsmen is seen among kings everywhere; even blameless kinsmen are suspected by a king, which is why Rāvaṇa distrusts Vibhīṣaṇa and Vibhīṣaṇa is afraid. But he is no kinsman of ours, so we have nothing to fear from him; he wants a kingdom, and that he can win only through us. The division among the rākṣasas will work to our advantage, and the men of understanding among them, seeing Vibhīṣaṇa welcomed, will come over to our side. Rāma first praises Sugrīva's words as those of a man learned in the śāstras who has served his elders, and only then gives his own subtler view, so that he completes his friend's opinion rather than refuting it. The two kinds of enemy are one's own kinsmen and the rulers of neighbouring lands. His remembering Bharata is tender: not all brothers are like Bharata, and so Vibhīṣaṇa's leaving Rāvaṇa is not to be condemned.

At Rāma's words the very wise Sugrīva rose together with Lakṣmaṇa and, bowing low, said: "Know that this night-rover has been sent by Rāvaṇa. I think it right to seize him, best of the forbearing. This rākṣasa has come here under orders and with crooked intent, sinless one, to strike at you once you trust him, or at me once I trust him, or at Lakṣmaṇa, mighty-armed one. He must be killed along with his ministers, for this Vibhīṣaṇa is cruel Rāvaṇa's brother." Having said this to the best of the Raghus, Sugrīva, commander of the army and skilled in speech, fell silent before Rāma, who was no less skilled. Rāma heard Sugrīva's words, reflected on them, and then spoke to that bull among monkeys words finer still. Sugrīva's second plea almost repeats his speech in the previous sarga, some lines word for word: "I think it right to seize him, best of the forbearing", "this Vibhīṣaṇa is cruel Rāvaṇa's brother", and his falling silent before Rāma. The repetition shows how firmly he holds his view; but now he sees all three of them, Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and himself, in danger. The poet calls Rāma's reply "finer still", better even than Sugrīva's words.

"Whether this night-rover is wicked or not, he cannot do me the slightest harm in any way. If I wished, lord of the monkey hosts, I could kill all the piśācas, dānavas, yakṣas and rākṣasas on earth with the tip of my finger. We hear that a dove once duly honoured an enemy who came to it for shelter and invited him to eat its own flesh. That dove received the very man who had carried off its mate, best of monkeys, when he came to it; how much more should someone like me?" Rāma's first ground for granting safety is his own strength: what can one rākṣasa do to a man who could kill every rākṣasa with a fingertip? His second is dharma: even a bird honoured an enemy who sought its shelter by giving him its own body. The dove's story is told at length in the Mahābhārata: a fowler who had caught the dove's mate took shelter under a tree, stricken with cold, and the dove lit a fire and offered its own body to him as food. If this is the duty even of a bird, how much more of a man, and above all of a king.

"Hear the most righteous verse sung long ago by Kaṇḍu, the truthful great sage, son of the sage Kaṇva: 'One should not kill even an enemy, scorcher of foes, who comes with joined palms, wretched and begging for shelter; compassion forbids it.' Whether he comes in distress or in pride, an enemy who has sought refuge with his foes must be protected by a man of disciplined mind, even at the cost of his own life. If from fear, folly or desire a man fails to protect him with all his strength as he should, that is a sin the world condemns. If one who sought refuge perishes unprotected before the eyes of his protector, he goes away taking with him all that protector's merit. So great is the fault of failing to protect those who seek refuge: it closes the way to heaven, brings infamy and destroys strength and valour. I will follow Kaṇḍu's excellent and true counsel, for it is righteous, brings glory and in the end leads to heaven. To anyone who comes to me even once for refuge and begs, saying 'I am yours', I grant safety from all beings: this is my vow. Bring him here, best of monkeys, Sugrīva; I have granted him safety, whether he is Vibhīṣaṇa or Rāvaṇa himself." This is the famous verse of refuge in the Rāmāyaṇa: "To anyone who comes to me even once for refuge and begs, saying 'I am yours', I grant safety from all beings: this is my vow." The word "once" matters greatly: a single act of surrender is enough, and there is no need to beg again and again. "From all beings" means from every living creature, not from men alone. And "even if it were Rāvaṇa himself" means that if the enemy himself begged for refuge, he too would be protected; here Rāma's love for those who seek refuge reaches its height. Kaṇḍu's verse has three parts: one must not kill even a pitiful enemy, one must protect him even at the cost of one's life, and failing to protect him bears the fruit of sin. The refugee must be protected whether he comes in misery or in pride, and the consequence of failing him is fearful, for he carries off all his protector's merit. Following Kaṇḍu's words brings three rewards: righteousness, glory and heaven.

Hearing Rāma's words, Sugrīva, lord of the monkeys, was filled with affection and answered Kākutstha: "Knower of dharma, crest-jewel of the lords of the world, what wonder is it that you should speak so nobly? You are steadfast and keep to the path of the good. My own inner self knows Vibhīṣaṇa to be pure; by inference and by his bearing he has been thoroughly tested in every way. So, Rāghava, let the very wise Vibhīṣaṇa at once become one of us, our equal, and enter into friendship with us." Then, hearing these words from the lord of the monkeys, Rāma, lord of men, went quickly to meet Vibhīṣaṇa, as Indra, Purandara, went to meet Garuḍa, king of birds. Note Sugrīva's change of heart: twice he proposed killing Vibhīṣaṇa, and now he himself declares him pure and asks for his friendship. "By inference and by his bearing" is the fruit of Hanumān's reasoning. And the closing image recalls how Indra made friends with Garuḍa when Garuḍa carried off the nectar; so Rāma makes friends with Vibhīṣaṇa.