The mighty Śatrughna, descendant of the illustrious Ikṣvāku line, entered the delightful city of Ayodhya. With strength in his arms and purpose in his heart, he made his way to the presence of Rāma, whose splendor shone like the sun. He found Rāma seated among his wise counselors, his face radiant as the full moon, surrounded by immortals, much like Indra, the thousand-eyed king. Approaching Rāma, Śatrughna offered respectful salutations to the great-souled one, whose brilliance seemed to blaze with energy. With palms joined, he spoke earnestly to Rāma, whose valor was renowned, saying, “O great king, all that you commanded, I have accomplished. The wicked Lavaṇa has been slain, and his city has been established.” Then, with heartfelt emotion, Śatrughna confessed, “Twelve years have passed, O delight of the Raghu line, since I have been without you. I cannot endure to dwell apart from you, O king. Show me your favor, O Kakutstha, of immeasurable prowess. Like a calf without its mother, I cannot remain long away.” Rāma, moved by Śatrughna’s words, embraced him and gently replied, “Do not grieve, O hero; such conduct is not fitting for a kṣatriya. Kings do not lose heart in exile, O Rāghava. Our people must be protected, according to the duty of kṣatriyas. From time to time, O hero, come to Ayodhya to see me, O best of men, and then you may return to your own city. You are indeed most dear to me, more than life itself, without doubt; yet the protection of the kingdom must certainly be carried out. Therefore, O descendant of Kakutstha, stay here for seven nights; afterwards, you will go to Madhura with your servants, army, and vehicles.” Hearing these words, filled with righteousness and spoken from the heart, Śatrughna replied in a sorrowful voice, “So be it.” Obedient to Rāma’s command, Śatrughna, armed with his great bow, stayed for seven nights in Ayodhya. Then, preparing to depart, he took leave of the noble Rāma, whose valor was true, and also bade farewell to Bharata and Lakṣmaṇa. Ascending his grand chariot, Śatrughna was accompanied for a long distance by Lakṣmaṇa and Bharata, noble brothers, before he swiftly returned to his city. Thus concludes the seventy-second sarga of the glorious Uttarakanda in the ancient and illustrious Ramayana composed by sage Vālmīki. Having sent Śatrughna off with his brothers, Rāghava rejoiced, happily ruling his kingdom in accordance with dharma. Then, after a few days, an aged Brahmin from the countryside, carrying his dead child, came to the palace gate. Overcome with grief, the Brahmin wept bitterly, uttering many words filled with affection and sorrow, crying again and again, “My son, my son!” He lamented, “What evil deed did I commit in a former life, that now I see you, my only son, gone to death? My child, not yet come to youth, only five years old, has met his end before his time, bringing me sorrow. In just a few days, without doubt, I and your mother too will go to death, overcome by grief for you, my son. I do not recall ever speaking falsehood, nor do I remember committing violence; I do not remember doing any evil to any living being. By whose evil act has this child of mine, still a boy, gone to the realm of Yama without performing his duties to his father?” The Brahmin’s anguish grew as he exclaimed, “Never before have I seen or heard of such a terrible thing—that in Rāma’s kingdom, death comes to those whose time has not yet come. There is surely some great sin committed by Rāma, since death has come to children living in his realm. There is no fear of death for children who are not in forbidden circumstances; O King, revive this child who has fallen under the sway of death. I shall die at the palace gate, together with my wife, as one without support; then, Rāma, having incurred the sin of killing a Brahmin, be happy. With your brothers, O King, you will obtain long life; we have lived happily in your mighty reign. This has happened, therefore, Rāma, we are under your control; having fallen under the sway of time, our happiness is indeed very little. Now the realm of the great-souled Ikṣvakus is without a protector; having found Rāma as the lord here, it is certain that the destruction of children will cease. Subjects perish due to the faults of the king when not governed by proper law; when the ruler behaves unrighteously, people die in his time. Whenever people in cities and provinces act improperly and there is no protection, then the fear caused by time arises. It is clear that the king’s fault will be the cause, there is no doubt; in city and province, therefore, this killing of a child has occurred.” Thus, repeatedly restraining the king with many kinds of words, the grief-stricken Brahmin embraced his son. Here ends the seventy-third chapter of the glorious Uttarakanda in the venerable Ramayana of Vālmīki. Rāghava listened to all the sorrowful lamentation of the Brahmin, filled with pain and grief. Deeply afflicted, Rāma summoned his counselors—Vasiṣṭha, Vāmadeva, his brothers, and the citizens. Then, eight eminent Brahmins entered together with Vasiṣṭha; they addressed the king, radiant like a god, saying, “May you prosper.” Markandeya, Maudgalya, Vāmadeva, Kaśyapa, Katyayana, Jabāli, Gautama, and Nārada—these noble Brahmins all sat upon their seats, ready to counsel the king.