So speaking, Raghunatha bowed his head before the Brahmans’ lotus feet and urged his chariot forward. Then did the king of Lanka burn hot with exceeding wrath and darted to meet him, challenging him in a thundering voice.

‘Listen, ascetic,’ he shouted, ‘I am not like one of those warriors whom you have vanquished in battle! Ravana is my name and my renown is noised throughout the world! The regents of the spheres lie imprisoned in my dungeons.

You forsooth have slain Khara and Dushana and Viradha and killed poor Bali even as a hunter would shoot his game; you wiped out troops of demon champions and murdered even Kumbhakarna and Meghanada.

Today I will wreak vengeance on you for all this if, O prince, you flee not from the battlefield. Today I shall assuredly consign you to death; for it is the relentless Ravana with whom you have to deal.’

On hearing these execrations and knowing him to be death-doomed, the All-merciful answered with a smile, ‘True, true is all your greatness; but prate no more; show your valour if you can.

Do not ruin your fair fame by bragging. Pray, excuse me and listen to a sound maxim. There are in the world three types of men; those resembling the rose, the mango and the bread-fruit tree. The one bears only blossoms, the second both flowers and fruit and the third only fruit. The one talks; the second talks and acts; the third only acts; but says not a word.’

Oh hearing Rama’s speech, he laughed and said, ‘So now you’re teaching me wisdom, aren’t you? You did not shrink from waging war against me then; now it seems you hold your life dear,’