After exchanging warm greetings and inquiring after each other’s well-being, Sumati, at the close of their conversation, turned to the great sage Viśvāmitra and spoke respectfully. “May you be blessed, O sage—who are these two youths with you? They are equal to the gods in valor, their stride is like that of elephants and lions, heroic and resembling tigers and bulls. Their eyes are wide as lotus petals, and they bear swords, quivers, and bows. In the fullness of youth, they stand radiant, as beautiful as the divine Aśvins. “They have arrived here unexpectedly, like immortals from the heavenly realms. How have they come here on foot, for what purpose, and whose sons are they, O sage? They adorn this land as the moon and sun adorn the sky, alike in stature, bearing, and movement. For what reason have these best of men come upon this difficult path, bearing such excellent weapons? I wish to hear the truth.” Upon hearing these questions, Viśvāmitra began to recount all that had transpired: the boys’ stay at Siddhāśrama, and the slaying of the Rākṣasas. As Viśvāmitra spoke, the king was greatly astonished by the deeds he heard. With due honor, he welcomed the two sons of Daśaratha, worthy of respect and mighty, and treated them according to custom. After receiving the highest hospitality from the noble-minded king, the two Raghavas, Rama and Lakshmana, spent one night there and then continued their journey toward Mithilā. As they approached the auspicious city of Janaka, all the sages praised Mithilā, exclaiming, “Excellent, excellent!” and honored her greatly. Near Mithilā, Rama noticed an ancient, deserted, yet charming hermitage nestled in a grove. Curious, he asked the foremost of sages, “O venerable one, this place resembles a hermitage, yet why is it devoid of ascetics? I wish to hear whose former hermitage this is.” Hearing Rama’s words, the great sage Viśvāmitra, skilled in speech, replied, “Indeed, I will tell you, Rāghava. Listen truly to whose hermitage this is, which was cursed in anger by a great soul. This was once the hermitage of the illustrious Gautama, O best of men, resplendent as the divine, and highly revered even by the gods. “Here, long ago, Gautama practiced austerities for many thousands of years together with Ahalyā, O renowned prince. Once, knowing Gautama was absent, Indra, lord of Śacī, took on the guise of a sage and approached Ahalyā. He said to her, ‘Those who desire union, O slender-waisted one, wait for the proper season with composure; but I desire union with you now.’ “Ahalyā recognized Indra in the guise of a sage, O delight of the Raghus. Lacking good judgment, she consented out of curiosity for the king of the gods. With her purpose accomplished, she said to Indra, ‘I am satisfied, O lord of gods; go quickly from here, O master. By all means, 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. But, in haste and fear of Gautama, Indra hurried away, only to see the great sage entering. “Gautama, difficult to approach for gods and demons, endowed with the power of austerity, bathed with sacred waters and shone like blazing fire. Seeing the foremost sage carrying sacred fuel and kuśa grass, Indra became fearful and his face grew pale. “Then, seeing Indra in the guise of a sage, the virtuous Gautama—though himself righteous—spoke these words in anger to the wicked one: ‘Assuming my form, you have committed this wrongful act, O wicked-minded one; therefore, you shall become fruitless.’ As Gautama, filled with great wrath, spoke thus, the testicles of the thousand-eyed Indra immediately fell to the ground. “Having thus cursed Indra, Gautama also cursed his wife, saying, ‘For many thousands of years you shall dwell here, sustained by air, fasting, scorched by penance, lying on ashes, unseen by all beings, you shall remain in this hermitage. When Rama, the son of Dasharatha, comes to this dreadful forest, then you shall be purified. By receiving him as a guest, O wicked one, free from greed and delusion, you shall, with joy, regain your own form and come to me.’ “Having spoken thus to the sinful woman, the great sage Gautama, possessed of great austerity, left this hermitage—frequented by Siddhas and Charanas—and performed penance on the beautiful peak of the Himalaya.” Now, hear the forty-ninth sarga in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakāṇḍa. Indra, now rendered fruitless, with fearful eyes, spoke to the gods, with Agni at their head, and to the Siddhas, Gandharvas, and Charanas. “By causing an obstacle to the penance of the great-souled Gautama, and provoking his anger, I have performed this act for the sake of the gods. By his wrath I have been made fruitless, and she has been rejected; by the utterance of his great curse, I have deprived him of his penance. Therefore, O best of gods, all of you together with the sages and Charanas, should make this act—performed for the sake of the gods—fruitful for me.” Hearing the words of Shatakratu, the gods, with Agni at their head, approached the Pitṛs and, together with the Maruts, spoke thus: “This ram is intact, while Indra has been rendered without testicles; take the testicles of the ram and quickly give them to Indra.