Hear now the beginning of this chapter. Bharata and Shatrughna, honored and cherished as sons by their maternal uncle—the lord of horses—remained in his home, accompanied by the affection and respect befitting beloved kin. Though they found comfort and delight in their stay, both heroic brothers often remembered their aged father, King Dasharatha, their thoughts returning with longing to the distant land of their birth. Meanwhile, King Dasharatha, resplendent with might and glory, also remembered his sons Bharata and Shatrughna, who were far away. In his heart, he cherished all four of his sons—Rama, Lakshmana, Bharata, and Shatrughna—regarding them as the very limbs of his own body, each dearer to him than life itself. Among them, Rama shone brightest, the delight of his father’s heart, radiant in virtue and splendor, just as the self-born creator stands foremost among beings. Rama’s birth was no ordinary event; at the request of the gods, who sought the destruction of Rāvaṇa, the eternal Vishnu himself had taken human form among men. Kausalyā, Rama’s mother, glowed with pride and joy in her son of immeasurable brilliance, just as Aditi, mother of the gods, shone with her son, the wielder of the thunderbolt. Rama was endowed with beauty, strength, and modesty, unrivaled upon the earth—a son whose virtues reflected those of Dasharatha himself. Calm and composed in every circumstance, Rama spoke gently first, and even if harsh words were directed at him, he never replied in anger. Content with a single act of kindness, he bore no grudge, forgetting even a hundred wrongs done to him. He sought the company of the virtuous and wise, elders skilled in character, wisdom, and even in arms, always eager to learn. Wise and sweet-spoken, Rama took the initiative in speech, his words always pleasant. Though powerful, he was never amazed by his own strength. He never spoke untruth, was learned, and honored his elders. Beloved by the people, he returned their love in equal measure. Compassionate and a master of his own anger, he honored brāhmaṇas, showed mercy to the distressed, was deeply learned in dharma, and remained ever self-controlled and pure. His mind reflected the nobility of his lineage, and he cherished the kṣatriya’s duty, holding its heavenly rewards in great esteem. He took no delight in anything inauspicious, nor in discordant speech; his words were always reasoned and well-ordered, like those of a master of speech. Healthy, youthful, eloquent, and handsome, he knew the right time and place for every action, standing out as the best among men—a singularly virtuous being. Endowed with the highest virtues, Rama was as dear to the people as the vital breath is to the body. He had performed all disciplines and vows, mastered the Vedas and their branches, and in archery, he even surpassed his father. Of noble birth, virtuous, undisturbed, truthful, and upright, he was well-trained by elders and by twice-born teachers in dharma and wealth. Rama knew the essence of dharma, desire, and wealth, was possessed of memory and intelligence, skilled in the customs of the world, and expert in proper conduct. Quiet and reserved, he kept his counsel secret, supported by loyal companions, never wasting anger or joy, and knowing the right time for renunciation and restraint. Firm in devotion and wisdom, he never accepted falsehood nor spoke harshly. Tireless and vigilant, he was ever aware of his own and others’ faults. Learned in the scriptures, grateful, discerning of people’s nature, he was skilled in both restraint and favor, acting always with justice and wisdom. He excelled in gathering and supporting the virtuous, in assigning roles and enforcing discipline; he knew how to acquire wealth and how to use it rightly. He had attained mastery over all branches of weaponry, both pure and composite; upholding both wealth and righteousness, he pursued happiness and was never idle. Rama understood the divisions of practical arts and crafts, and was skilled in training and managing elephants and horses. Foremost among those who knew the science of archery, he was esteemed as a great chariot-warrior, adept in attack, combat, and the arrangement of armies. In battle, Rama was invincible, even against the enraged gods and demons; he was free from envy, had conquered anger, and was neither arrogant nor jealous. No being could despise him, nor was he subject to the sway of time. Thus was the prince, son of the king, endowed with the highest virtues. In all three worlds, Rama was esteemed for his forbearance, equal to the earth itself; in wisdom, he rivaled Brihaspati, and in strength, the lord of Shachi. With these virtues, beloved by all and pleasing to his father, Rama shone forth, radiant like the sun with its rays. Such was his conduct and prowess—unconquerable, like a lord of the world—that the earth herself longed for him as her protector. Seeing his son endowed with these many incomparable virtues, King Dasharatha, vanquisher of foes, was filled with deep thought. In his old age, after a long life, the king pondered: “How might Rama become king while I am still alive?” His supreme affection for Rama turned constantly in his heart, and he wondered, “When shall I see my beloved son anointed as king?” For Rama desired the welfare of the world and had compassion for all beings; he was dearer to the people than even Dasharatha himself, like a rain-bringing cloud. In strength, Rama was equal to Yama and Indra; in wisdom, to Brihaspati; in steadfastness, to the mountain king; and in virtue, he surpassed even his father. “If only I might see my son ruling this entire earth in my own lifetime,” thought Dasharatha, “it would be as if I had attained heaven itself.