Sita's words displeased Ravana, who never brooked opposition. His brow furrowed and eyebrows knotted into a fearful frown "Sita," he roared, "I am the brother of Kubera, son of his step-mother and Ravana is my name. I have ten heads, twenty hands and am indomitable! The celestials flee from me, like mortals flee from death. Vanquished by me, Kubera now lives on Mount Kailas and his aerial chariot Pushpaka is in my possession. Even Indra fears my anger, the winds blow gently and the sunshines subdued in its brilliance in my presence! Trees do not rustle and rivers still their flow where I tread. My city of Lanka, on the mountain of Trikoota is as magnificent as Indra's Amaravathi. Its mansions of gold and silver studded with the best of gems are enclosed with walls of silver. Once in Lanka, the island girdled by endless blue oceans, you will never again think of Rama who is but a mere mortal. Enjoying divine pleasures you will forget him who courting Dasaratha's displeasure was banished from Kosala. Of what use is Rama, who having lost his kingdom and his mind wanders the jungles like an ascetic? Do not reject me Janaki. Rama will not measure up to the strength of my little finger on the battlefield. It is your good fortune that brings you to me!" Sita's eyes blazed with rage as she chastised Ravana, "How can you think of such an outrage Ravana? Evil and immoral, you are the bane of your race which you will soon destroy. Stealing the wife of Indra you may hope to live, but abusing Rama's wife will seal your fate. Not even the nectar of immortality will save you".