Go home and think of your clan's welfare, says Maricha. Ravana flares up and curses him: who in the world is a warrior like me? Maricha reckons in his heart that opposing nine kinds of people brings no good, such as an armed man, a master or one who knows your secrets. He sees death either way and so takes refuge in Raghunayak: if I answer, this wretch will kill me; why not die by Rama's arrow? He goes with Ravana, his love for Rama's feet unbroken, hiding his joy: today I will see my dearest. Hari, whose very anger gives nirvana, will fit an arrow and slay me. He will chase me, and I will turn again and again to see him. None is as blessed as I.
निज परम प्रीतम देखि लोचन, सुफल करि सुख पाइहौं । श्री सहित अनुज समेत कृपानिकेत-पद मन लाइहौँ ॥ निर्बान-दायक क्रोध जा कर, भगति अबसहि बस करी । निज पानि सर सन्धानि सो मोहि, बधिहि सुखसागर हरी ॥
nija parama prītama dekhi locana, suphala kari sukha pāihauṃ | śrī sahita anuja sameta kṛpāniketa-pada mana lāihaum̐ || nirbāna-dāyaka krodha jā kara, bhagati abasahi basa karī | nija pāni sara sandhāni so mohi, badhihi sukhasāgara harī ||