When the monkeys saw that the foe was unconquerable, they were filled with dismay; then Lakshmana, the incarnation of the Serpent King, was filled with great fury. ‘I’ve played long enough with this wretch,’ he thought, and made a firm resolve in his mind to slay him.

Recalling the might of Rama, the lord of Kosala, he defiantly fitted an arrow to his bow and shot it with such steady aim that it struck him full in the breast, and the demon abandoned all deception at the moment of death.

‘Where is Lakshmana, Rama’s younger brother? Where is Rama?’ So speaking, he expired. ‘Blessed, blessed indeed is your mother!’ said Angad and Hanuman. (‘For you died at the hands of Lakshmana and while dying, uttered the names of Rama and Lakshmana.’)

Without an effort Hanuman lifted him up and after putting him down at the gate of Lanka returned. Hearing of his death, the gods and the Gandharvas all mounted their chariots and came thronging the sky.

Raining down a shower of blossoms, the gods and the Gandharvas beat their drums and sang the spotless glory of Raghunatha. ‘Glory to the Lord Ananta! Glory to the world-supporter! You, Lord, have delivered all the gods!'

Having thus hymned his praises, the gods and adepts went their way, while Lakshmana returned to the All-merciful. When the Ten-headed heard of his son’s death, he swooned away and fell to the ground.

Mandodari made grievous lamentation, beating her breast and crying in many ways, while the citizens were all smitten with grief, each one upbraiding Ravana.