Viśvāmitra, the great sage, continued his tale to Rāma, recounting the ancient happenings of the sacred land they now traversed. He spoke of a time when, by divine command, four sons would roam the directions, their birth heralded by a mother's blessing: "May good fortune be yours; in time, these are my sons." Because of a certain act, these sons would be known as the Maruts. Hearing her words, mighty Purandara—Indra, the thousand-eyed, slayer of Bala—offered his respects and replied, "All will happen just as you have said, without doubt. Your sons, divine in form, will roam as you wish." Thus, mother and son, having made their agreement in the forest of austerities, fulfilled their purpose and ascended to heaven. "O Rāma," Viśvāmitra said, "this is the very place once inhabited by Mahendra. Here, Diti herself practiced her fierce penances. And here, O scion of the Ikṣvāku line, a supremely righteous son was born to Alambuṣā, renowned as Viśāla. It was Viśāla who founded the city called Viśālā in this very spot." Viśāla's lineage flourished: his son was the mighty Hemacandra, whose own son, Sucandra, was famed throughout the land. Sucandra's illustrious son was Dhūmrāśva, and his son was Sṛñjaya, glorious and powerful. Sṛñjaya's son was Sahadeva, and from Sahadeva came Kuśāśva, a paragon of righteousness. Kuśāśva's son was the great and strong Somadatta; Somadatta's son was Kākutstha, renowned among men. His own brilliant son, Sumati, now ruled this city—unconquerable and famed. "Thanks to the grace of Ikṣvāku," Viśvāmitra explained, "all the kings of Vaiśālī are long-lived, noble, valiant, and highly righteous." He suggested, "Here, tonight, we shall rest comfortably. In the morning, O best of men, you should see King Janaka." Meanwhile, the splendid Sumati, having heard of Viśvāmitra's arrival, returned with great renown. Together with his teachers and relatives, he greeted the sage with highest honors, inquiring after his welfare, and spoke with deep reverence: "Blessed and favored am I, O sage, to have you enter my land. Having seen you, there is none more fortunate than I." As the narration continued, Viśvāmitra invited Rāma to listen to the next episode of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. After they exchanged greetings and inquired after each other's welfare, Sumati, filled with wonder, asked Viśvāmitra about the two youths accompanying him: "Who are these two, equal to gods in valor, whose gait resembles elephants and lions, heroic as tigers and bulls? With eyes wide as lotus petals, bearing swords, quivers, and bows, they stand in the fullness of youth, as beautiful as the Aśvin twins. Arrived here by chance, like immortals from the world of the gods, how have they come here on foot? For what purpose, and whose sons are they, O sage?" Sumati continued, marveling at them: "Adorning this land like the moon and sun adorn the sky, they are alike in stature, bearing, and movement. For what reason have these best of men come upon this difficult path, bearing excellent weapons? I wish to hear the truth." In response, Viśvāmitra recounted all that had occurred: their stay at Siddhāśrama, the slaying of the Rākṣasas, and all the deeds performed by Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa. Hearing this, King Sumati was astonished by their valor. He received the two sons of Daśaratha as honored guests and treated them according to custom. After receiving the highest hospitality from the noble-minded king, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, the two sons of the Raghu line, spent the night there and then set forth toward Mithilā. As they approached the auspicious city of Janaka, all the sages praised Mithilā, exclaiming, "Excellent, excellent!" and honored her greatly. Near Mithilā, Rāma noticed an ancient, deserted, yet charming hermitage and turned to Viśvāmitra: "O venerable one, this place resembles a hermitage, yet why is it devoid of ascetics? Whose former hermitage is this? I wish to know." Viśvāmitra, skilled in speech, replied, "Indeed, I will tell you, Rāghava. Listen to the truth of whose hermitage this is—a place cursed in anger by a great soul. This was once the hermitage of the illustrious Gautama, radiant as the gods and highly revered. Here, long ago, he practiced austerities with Ahalyā for thousands of years." He continued, "Knowing Gautama was absent, Indra, lord of Śacī, took on the guise of a sage and approached Ahalyā. He spoke, 'Those who desire union, O slender-waisted one, wait for the proper season with composure, but I desire union with you now.' Recognizing Indra in the guise of a sage, yet lacking good judgment and curious about the king of the gods, Ahalyā consented." "After their union," Viśvāmitra narrated, "Ahalyā said to Indra, 'I am satisfied, O lord of gods; go quickly from here, O master. Please, protect both yourself and me from Gautama.' Indra, laughing, replied, 'O beautiful-hipped one, I am satisfied and will depart as I came.' Thus, after their union, he left the hut at once." And so, Viśvāmitra revealed to Rāma the sacred and sorrowful history of the place, setting the stage for the events yet to unfold.