द्वन्द्वयुद्धानि

As those great monkeys fought on, a terrible fury rose in the rākṣasa army. With horses wearing golden crests, elephants like tongues of flame, chariots bright as the sun and handsome armour, the heroic rākṣasas of dreadful deeds sallied out, making the ten directions ring, eager to win victory for Rāvaṇa. The vast monkey army, eager for victory too, charged that army of rākṣasas of fearful deeds, and as they rushed at one another, single combats began between rākṣasas and monkeys. Here the poet moves from the general picture of the battle to particular scenes — from the clash of armies to the duels of heroes. The rākṣasa army has all four divisions, horses, elephants, chariots and foot-soldiers; the monkeys fight only on foot, with trees and rocks, yet their army is vast. Both sides are "eager for victory," and the poet keeps the balance even. Gold, fire and the sun are the images for the rākṣasas, showing their brilliance and wealth, and the fury is the whole army's, not one man's. The single combats begin in the ancient way of war, each hero seeking an opponent of his own rank. The army that marched out at Rāvaṇa's order was described in the previous sarga; this sarga tells of its clash.

The mighty rākṣasa Indrajit fought with Aṅgada, son of Vālin, as the demon Andhaka fought with three-eyed Śiva. Sampāti, always hard to withstand in battle, took on Prajaṅgha, and the monkey Hanūmān took on Jambumālin. Vibhīṣaṇa, Rāvaṇa's younger brother, in great wrath, closed with a rākṣasa named Śatrughna, fierce and swift. Mighty Gaja fought with the rākṣasa Tapana, and mighty Nīla with Nikumbha. Sugrīva, lord of the monkeys, was matched with Praghasa, and the glorious Lakṣmaṇa met Virūpākṣa. The unassailable Agniketu, the rākṣasa Raśmiketu, Suptaghna and Yajñakopa closed with Rāma. The two monkey chiefs Mainda and Dvivida met two fearsome rākṣasas, Vajramuṣṭi and Aśaniprabha. The heroic Pratapana, a fearsome rākṣasa hard to check in battle, fought with Nala of fierce speed. The strong son of Dharma, the great monkey renowned as Suṣeṇa, fought with Vidyunmālin. And other fearsome monkeys, after fighting many at once, suddenly closed in single combat with other rākṣasas. Ten pairs are named here, and the outcome of each is told in what follows. Comparing Indrajit and Aṅgada to Andhaka and Śiva hints at Indrajit's defeat, for Andhaka was killed by Śiva. Vibhīṣaṇa's opponent Śatrughna shares his name with Bharata's younger brother but is a different person. Rāma alone fights four rākṣasas at once, a sign of his matchless power. Suṣeṇa is "son of Dharma" because, as the Bāla Kāṇḍa tells, the monkeys were born from portions of the gods. The poet names each pair briefly and will then tell each result in detail, so that every hero's place is clear in the reader's mind. The pairings are meaningful: Aṅgada and Indrajit are both princes and both young; Hanūmān's Jambumālin bears the name of Prahasta's son whom he killed in the Sundara Kāṇḍa, but this is another of the same name; Sugrīva faces Praghasa and Lakṣmaṇa Virūpākṣa — heroes of equal strength matched against one another. Rāma has four opponents because he is the greatest of all. Vibhīṣaṇa fights a rākṣasa of his own race, proof that he has wholly taken Rāma's side. The other monkeys first fight in the general mêlée and then pair off one against one; such single combats are, in the ancient epics, the chief way a hero shows his valour and wins fame in his own name.

A great, tumultuous battle raged there between the heroic rākṣasas and monkeys, each side eager for victory, a battle to make the hair stand on end. From the bodies of monkeys and rākṣasas flowed rivers of blood, with hair for the grass on their banks, carrying along heaps of corpses as rivers carry driftwood. Indrajit in his fury struck the heroic Aṅgada, who was tearing through the enemy ranks, with his mace, as Indra strikes with his thunderbolt; and the glorious, swift monkey Aṅgada smashed Indrajit's chariot, bright with gold, with that mace, horses, charioteer and all. Sampāti, struck by Prajaṅgha with three arrows, killed Prajaṅgha in the forefront of the battle with an aśvakarṇa tree. The mighty Jambumālin, standing in his chariot, pierced Hanūmān between the breasts with a chariot-spear; but Hanūmān, son of the Wind, leapt onto the chariot and at once crushed it, rākṣasa and all, with the flat of his hand. Roaring, the fearsome Pratapana rushed at Nala; when the quick-handed rākṣasa had pierced Nala's body with sharp arrows, Nala struck out Pratapana's eyes. Praghasa seemed to be devouring whole armies, and Sugrīva, king of the monkeys, swiftly struck him down with a saptaparṇa tree. Lakṣmaṇa harried the fearsome rākṣasa Virūpākṣa with a rain of arrows and then killed him with a single arrow. And the unassailable Agniketu, the rākṣasa Raśmiketu, Suptaghna and Yajñakopa pierced Rāma with their arrows. The river of blood is a favourite image of the poet: hair for grass, bodies for logs, blood for water. Aṅgada destroys Indrajit's chariot but does not kill him; Indrajit's power of illusion will show itself in the next sarga, and this humiliation will be the cause of his fury. Hanūmān climbs onto the chariot and crushes the chariot-warrior with it, an astonishing display of strength: the spear through his chest does not even shake him. Nala's victory is unusual — he blinds his enemy rather than killing him, and the blinded foe is out of the fight. Sugrīva fights with a saptaparṇa tree, recalling how Rāma pierced the seven sal trees before Vālin was killed, and he kills Praghasa as he "seems to devour the armies," for the name Praghasa itself means "devourer." Sampāti, wounded by three arrows, still kills his enemy with a tree, showing the monkeys' endurance. Lakṣmaṇa first harries his foe with a shower of arrows and then kills him with a single shaft, a lesson in the order of fighting skill. This passage is swift: each duel is finished in a line or two — blow, counter-blow, death — and the attack of the four rākṣasas on Rāma closes it, their deaths coming in the next, so the flow of the story never breaks.

Rāma, in fury, cut off the heads of all four in battle with four terrible arrows like tongues of fire. Vajramuṣṭi, struck down by Mainda's fist, fell to the ground with his chariot and horses like a city's watch-tower collapsing. Nikumbha pierced Nīla, dark as a heap of collyrium, with sharp arrows, as the sun pierces a cloud with its rays; then the quick-handed night-ranger pierced him again with a hundred arrows, and laughed. But Nīla, like Viṣṇu in battle, took a wheel of Nikumbha's own chariot and with it cut off the heads of Nikumbha and his charioteer. Aśaniprabha had pierced Dvivida, the monkey chief who fought with trees, with arrows like thunderbolts; but Dvivida, whose touch was like the thunderbolt, struck him with a mountain peak while all the rākṣasas looked on, and then, beside himself with rage, his limbs full of arrows, he killed Aśaniprabha with a śāla tree, chariot, horses and all. Rāma's four arrows for four foes, one arrow each, show his unerring aim. Vajramuṣṭi falls like a tall watch-tower of the city, chariot and all. Nīla is compared to Viṣṇu because Viṣṇu cuts off heads with his discus, and Nīla does it with a chariot wheel — a fine comparison. Nikumbha's laugh shows his arrogance, and he too is quickly destroyed. The monkeys, without weapons, defeat armed rākṣasas with trees, rocks and fists, which shows their strength and Rāma's power over them. There is play on the names too: Vajramuṣṭi, "thunderbolt-fist," is felled by a monkey's fist that is itself like a thunderbolt, and Aśaniprabha, "bright as lightning," whose arrows are like lightning, is killed by Dvivida, whose touch is like lightning — weapon against nature. In this passage seven rākṣasa heroes fall — four to Rāma, Vajramuṣṭi to Mainda, Nikumbha to Nīla and Aśaniprabha to Dvivida — and the leaders of the rākṣasa army perish one after another.

Vidyunmālin, standing in his chariot, struck Suṣeṇa with arrows adorned with gold and roared again and again. Seeing him in his chariot, Suṣeṇa, best of monkeys, quickly brought the chariot down with a great mountain peak. The nimble night-ranger sprang quickly from the chariot and stood on the ground, mace in hand. Then Suṣeṇa, bull among monkeys, filled with rage, took up a huge rock and rushed at him, and as he came on, Vidyunmālin quickly struck him on the chest with his mace. Paying no heed to that terrible blow, the best of monkeys silently brought the rock down on the rākṣasa's chest in the great battle. Struck by the rock, his heart crushed, the night-ranger Vidyunmālin fell lifeless to the ground. So those heroic night-rangers were crushed in single combat by the heroic monkeys, as the daityas were by the gods. The duel of Suṣeṇa and Vidyunmālin is told at length, the fight shifting from chariot to ground, from arrows to mace, from mace to rock. Suṣeṇa ignores the mace blow as if it were a straw, and strikes in silence, without a roar — the opposite of Vidyunmālin's repeated roaring; heroes speak by their deeds, not their words. The poet grants Vidyunmālin his courage too: nimble, he survives the loss of his chariot and fights on foot. His arrows are adorned with gold, for the rākṣasas' wealth shows even in their weapons, while Suṣeṇa's arms are a mountain peak and a rock, gifts of nature itself; "his heart crushed" is a grim picture of the rock smashing his chest. The comparison with the gods and daityas returns in the last verse: the side of dharma wins. In almost all the duels of this sarga the monkeys are victorious; only Indrajit is left alive, and he will be the centre of the next sarga.

The battlefield became a dreadful place, haunted by packs of jackals, strewn with javelins and other weapons, maces, spears, lances and arrows, with shattered chariots and war-horses, with slain elephants that had been in rut, with monkeys and rākṣasas, and with broken wheels, axles, yokes and poles lying on the ground. In that tumultuous fray, like the battle of the gods and asuras, headless trunks of monkeys and rākṣasas sprang up in every direction. Slaughtered by the bulls among monkeys, the night-rangers, maddened by the smell of blood, threw themselves again into hard fighting with fresh vigour, longing for the sun to set. The description of the battlefield is the height of horror: broken weapons, pieces of chariots, dead elephants and horses, jackals, headless trunks rising up. The trunks of both sides rise, for the poet does not hide that the monkeys too suffered losses, and the jackals show the end of it all — the bodies of the dead become their food. The rākṣasas long for sunset because their strength grows at night; they are night-rangers, and the next sarga tells of the night battle. Their longing for sunset is also an admission of defeat: beaten by day, they hope to win at night by magic. So the sarga marks the end of the first day's fighting.