The warriors, most valiant in arms, wrung their hands, crying, ‘Alas, O Rama! O Raghunatha, alas! Having thus crushed the might of all, Ravana wrought another delusion.

He made appear a host of Hanumans, who rushed forward with rocks in their hands and girt Rama with their encircling thousands.

With uplifted tails and gnashing teeth they shouted, ‘Kill him! Seize him! Don’t let him go!’ their tails looking beautiful massed on every side, and the lord of Kosala stood in their midst.

In the midst of those tails the beauteous, dark-hued body of the king of Kosala shone forth as resplendent as a lofty tamala tree girt with a magnificent ring of multitudinous rainbows. When they looked on the Lord, the gods experienced mingled feelings of joy and sorrow and raised the cries of ‘Victory! Victory! Victory!’ Then Raghubira’s wrath swelled, and with a single shaft he instantly dispelled the delusion.

The delusion having vanished, the monkeys and the bears in exultant joy returned to the fray with trees and rocks in their hands. Rama shot forth a volley of arrows, which once more cut off Ravana’s arms and heads to the ground. If hundreds of Sheshas and Sharadas, Vedas and bards were to hymn through countless aeons the story of Rama’s battle with Ravana, yet would they never come to the end of it.

The dull-witted Tulasidasa has told something of the wonders of their exploits, much as a fly mounts up into heaven in accordance with the capacity it possesses.

Though his heads and arms were struck off again and again, the valiant lord of Lanka did not die. It was simply a pastime for the Lord, but gods, adepts and sages were distracted at the sight of his suffering.