After her husband spoke to her, Sita stood with her face lowered in modesty, tears streaming from her eyes. Addressing Raghava, she said, “Listen, O lord, to what I saw here—it was truly wondrous. Rama, the king whom you revere, has come here. Two others, adorned with all ornaments, were also present; three, O descendant of Raghu, appeared in the forms of Brahmins. “Father, I saw among the Brahmins one whom I recognized, O Raghava. Seeing him, I felt overcome with shame and withdrew from your side. You fed the Brahmins and performed the śrāddha according to proper rites; but how can those dressed in bark and deer skin be the leaders of kings? I am the destroyer of enemies—this is true. The silk garments and those taken by Kaikeyi are gone. Since then, I have lived in the forest wearing bark. Knowing this, I have kept silent, so that you may not suffer. “I do not remember my mother or father, O scorcher of foes. When will this forest exile end, O Raghava? O Rama, thinking only of this again and again, the days pass by, my lord—I swear by your feet. How can I serve this food with my own hands to the king—food that even the servant of servants would never partake of at any time? How can I bring myself to offer such a thing to him, when I was once seen by the king adorned with every ornament? Once, I stood fanning the king with a yak-tail fan in my hand; how can I now, my body smeared with sweat and dirt, bear to see the lord of the earth? Surely, you have attained heaven, rescued by your son, after seeing me—a sorrowful, innocent girl—tormented in the forest. “This king would be grieved, O Raghava, and thus I am lost. You are as dear to me as life itself, Rama—there is nothing I would hide from you. By truth and by this, I touch your feet.” Hearing these heartfelt words, Raghava was pleased with his beloved. He drew Sita firmly onto his lap and embraced her with respect. Then the heroes ate the meal, and afterwards Janaki also partook. Thus, they remained there that night, and when the thousand-rayed sun arose, the Raghavas set their minds on departing. Traveling a krośa westward, as far as the elder Puṣkara, Raghava stayed on the eastern side of Puṣkara. There, he heard a voice spoken by a divine messenger: “O Raghava, blessings to you! This is a most rare holy place. Standing in this place, O hero, make yourself pure; you have a divine task to perform—divine enemies must be slain by you.” Gladdened in mind, the hero spoke to Lakṣmaṇa, “O son of Sumitrā, I am favored by the god of gods, Brahmā. Here, after establishing a hermitage, I wish to undertake a vow for one month, Lakṣmaṇa, for supreme purification of the body.” Lakṣmaṇa agreed, and the vow was completed with offerings such as piṇḍa and other gifts, and with śrāddha rites for the ancestors. Rāma duly satisfied the ancestors at Puṣkara, with Kanakā, Suprabhā, Nandā, and the eastern Sarasvatī. The five-streamed river at Puṣkara grants satisfaction to the ancestors; he performed the daily ancestral worship, as his forefathers had done. Having performed these rites, Rāma said to Lakṣmaṇa, “Come, Lakṣmaṇa, quickly bring water from Puṣkara. After washing your feet, make your bed on the bedding; when the night has passed, we shall go to the southern direction.” But Lakṣmaṇa, bringing water for Sita, spoke, “Rama, I do not serve you as a servant at all times. This wife of yours is indeed well-nourished and robust; tell me now, what will you do with her? Or will this beloved of yours follow you after death? You always protect her, and she is always well-nourished. She, being cheerful, constantly troubles me, O best of the Raghus; and you too, Rama, cause me distress—this leads to harm in the next world. “For your sake, I always endure thirst along with hunger—there is no doubt; consider this also for the next world. No one is seen to have followed the dead—wife, son, or wealth; so say the wise. And your father, Rama, died after abandoning the thornless kingdom and leaving you in the forest, to fulfill Kaikeyi’s desire. Kaikeyi remains here, along with the wealth and all the relatives; but King Dasharatha alone has gone on his final journey. I think Sita will certainly not go with you; tell me now, Raghava, what will you do with her?” Hearing Lakṣmaṇa’s words, which had never been spoken before, Raghava stood dejected, and Sita too, her beautiful face downcast. Then Sita did everything that Lakṣmaṇa had said; after bathing and eating, the two heroes with lotus-like eyes rested. There they passed the night, and then set their minds on departure. “Come, rise, O Saumitri, let us go to the southern direction,” said Rama. But Saumitri replied, “I will not go under any circumstances; you go with your wife, O lotus-eyed one.