Said Ravana: “I will bring Sita hither in my chariot.”
On the morrow Ravana and his brother Maricha, whom Rama had aforetime driven far across the ocean with a Celestial weapon, went towards the hermitage of the royal exiles in a resplendent chariot which went through the air like a great bird; it was drawn by asses which had the heads of Rakshasas.
Maricha assumed the shape of a golden deer with silvern spots; its horns were tipped with sapphire and its eyes were like to blue lotus blooms. This beautiful animal of gentle seeming grazed below the trees until Sita beheld it with wondering eyes as she came forth to pluck wild flowers. She called to Rama, saying: “A deer of wondrous beauty is wandering through the grove. I long to rest at ease on its golden skin.”
Said Rama: “O Lakshmana, I must fulfil the desire of Sita. Tarry with her until I obtain this animal for her.”
So speaking, he lifted his bow and hastened away through the trees.
Lakshmana spoke to Sita and said: “My heart is full of misgiving. Sages have told that Rakshasas are wont to assume the forms of deer. Ofttimes have monarchs been waylaid in the forest by artful demons who came to lure them away.”
Rama chased the deer a long time hither and thither through the forest, and at length he shot an arrow which pierced its heart. In his agony Maricha sprang out of the deer's body, and cried out in imitation of Rama's voice: “Sita, Sita, save me! O save me, Lakshmana!” Then he died, and Rama perceived that he had slain the Rakshasa Maricha, brother of Ravana.
Sita's heart was filled with alarm when she heard the voice of the Rakshasa calling in imitation of her husband. She spake to Lakshmana, saying: “Hasten and help my Rama; he calls for help.”
Said Lakshmana: “Do not fear for Rama, O fair one. No Rakshasa can injure him. I must obey his command and remain beside thee. The cry thou hast heard is an illusion wrought by demons.”