Harishchandra, steadfast in his devotion to righteousness, addressed Viśvāmitra with humility and resolve, saying, “Revered one, this is my duty, not a fault. O master, do not be angry with me, for I am a devotee of my own dharma.” He explained that a king who understands dharma must give and protect, and, when necessary, take up arms to fight in accordance with righteousness. Viśvāmitra then questioned him further: “To whom should gifts be given? Whom should you protect? Against whom should you fight, O king? Tell me quickly, if you truly fear unrighteousness.” Harishchandra replied, “Gifts should be given to eminent Brahmins and also to the poor. Those who are afraid must always be protected, and battles must be fought against robbers.” Viśvāmitra pressed on: “If you are a king who rightly observes royal duty, and I, a Brahmin, wish to perform a rite, then let the desired offering be given.” At this, the birds narrating the tale said that the king, filled with joy at these words, felt as if reborn. With a heart full of resolve, he spoke again to Viśvāmitra, “Speak, O revered one, whatever you wish to be given, without hesitation. Know that it is already granted, even if it is exceedingly difficult to obtain—whether gold, jewels, my son, wife, body, life, kingdom, city, or wealth—whatever you desire.” Viśvāmitra accepted the king’s pledge and said, “O king, the offering you have given is accepted. First, grant me the royal sacrificial gift.” Harishchandra assured him, “O Brahmin, I will indeed give you that sacrificial gift. Choose, O best of twice-born, whatever offering you desire.” Viśvāmitra then spoke, “The earth with its oceans, its rulers, villages, and cities, the entire kingdom filled with chariots, horses, and elephants; the treasury and storehouses, and all that belongs to you, except your wife, son, and body, O sinless one. And the virtue, O knower of all dharma, that follows one who departs. Why say more? Let all this be given.” Hearing these words, the king, his mind joyful and his face unchanged, replied with joined palms, “So be it.” Viśvāmitra continued, “If you have given me everything—kingdom, land, strength, wealth—who, O royal sage, holds authority when the ascetic is established in the kingdom?” Harishchandra answered, “Even when I gave land to a Brahmin at any time, you were its master then; how much more so now, O king?” Viśvāmitra pressed further, “If you have given me all the earth, O king, wherever my authority prevails, you must depart from there.” Obeying this, Harishchandra left behind all his ornaments, including girdles and sacred threads, and, together with his wife and son, donned garments of bark. The birds narrated that, having said “so be it” and done as promised, the king began to depart with his wife Śaivya and his young son. But as they were leaving, someone blocked their path and said to the king, “Where are you going, without giving me the royal sacrificial gift?” Harishchandra replied, “O revered one, this kingdom has been given to you, cleared of all obstacles. Now, O Brahman, only these three bodies of mine remain.” Viśvāmitra insisted, “Even so, you must give me the sacrificial gift. It is especially promised that Brahmins are harmed if the gift is not given. As long as the Brahmins are satisfied in the Rājasūya, O king, so long must the royal sacrificial gift be given. Having promised, you must give; you must fight with aggressors; and you must protect the afflicted—this was previously promised by you.” Harishchandra, with utmost sincerity, said, “O revered one, at present I have nothing; I will give to you in due course. Show your grace, O sage, considering my sincerity.” Viśvāmitra demanded, “What measure of time should I wait for you, O lord of men? Speak quickly, or the fire of my curse will consume you.” Harishchandra pleaded, “O sage, I will give you the sacrificial wealth within a month. I have no riches now; you should permit me to give.” Viśvāmitra relented, “Go, go, O foremost of kings, uphold your own duty. May your path be auspicious, and may there be no obstacles.” The birds then described how, permitted to depart, the lord of the earth left, his beloved wife following him on foot, though it was not her custom. As the great king left the city with his wife and son, the citizens and the king’s followers cried out in grief and distress. They lamented, “Alas, why do you abandon us, always afflicted and suffering? You are devoted to righteousness, O king, and have shown favor to the citizens. Take us also, O royal sage, if you regard righteousness. Wait a moment, O king, so we may see your lotus-like face. Let us drink with our bee-like eyes; when will we see you again?” Those who walked before and behind the departing king beheld his wife carrying their young son, and his servants, walking ahead, stood in the path like elephants. The people mourned, “This king Harishchandra now goes by foot; alas, O king, your tender-skinned, beautiful-browed son walks with you. What will his face become, covered with dust along the road? Stay, stay, O foremost of kings, uphold your own duty.” They implored him, “Compassion is the highest duty, especially for Kṣatriyas. What are wives, what are sons, O lord, what are riches or grains? Having abandoned all this, we have become your shadow. Alas, O great king, alas, O master, why do you leave us? Wherever you are, there we are also; happiness is where you dwell. The city is where you reside, and heaven is wherever our king is.” Hearing these heartfelt words of the townspeople, the king, overwhelmed by sorrow and compassion, remained on the path, unable to move forward.