Rama was a prince whose character shone with the rarest virtues. He understood deeply the essence of dharma, desire, and wealth, and his memory and intelligence were both keen and reliable. Well-versed in the ways of the world, he excelled in proper conduct and social customs. Outwardly, Rama was composed and reserved, keeping his counsel private, always supported by loyal companions. His emotions, whether anger or joy, were never wasted or misplaced, for he knew the right moments for restraint and renunciation. Devoted and unwavering in wisdom, Rama never accepted falsehood, nor did harsh words cross his lips. Tireless and vigilant, he remained ever aware of his own shortcomings as well as those of others. Learned in the scriptures, he was grateful and discerning, able to judge the nature of men. Rama was skilled in both showing restraint and extending favor, always acting with justice and wisdom. He excelled in gathering the virtuous to his side, supporting them, assigning roles wisely, and imposing necessary discipline. He understood how to acquire wealth and, equally, how to use it properly and with purpose. In the arts of weaponry, Rama had attained mastery over all branches, whether simple or complex. He upheld both material prosperity and righteousness, ever pursuing happiness and never succumbing to laziness. His knowledge extended to all practical arts and crafts, and he was skilled in the training and management of elephants and horses. Among archers, he was without equal, renowned as a great chariot-warrior. Rama was adept at attack, combat, and the strategic arrangement of armies. In battle, he was invincible—even the enraged gods and demons could not defeat him. Free from envy, he had conquered anger, and was neither arrogant nor jealous. No being could rightly despise him, nor was he subject to the sway of time. Thus, the prince, son of the king, was endowed with the highest virtues. In forbearance, he was esteemed throughout the three worlds, his patience equal to the earth itself; his wisdom rivaled that of Brihaspati, and his strength was like that of Indra, the lord of Shachi. Rama, beloved by all and pleasing to his father, shone forth radiant, like the sun shining with its rays. Such was his conduct and might—unconquerable, like a lord of the world—that even the earth herself longed to have him as her protector. Seeing his son adorned with so many incomparable virtues, King Dasharatha, the vanquisher of foes, was filled with deep contemplation. In his old age, Dasharatha wondered, “How might Rama become king while I am still alive?” This supreme affection for Rama constantly filled the king’s heart: “When will 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 the king himself, like a life-giving rain 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 his own father. “If only I could see my son ruling the entire earth while I am still alive, it would be as if I had attained heaven,” thought Dasharatha. With these and countless other rare and immeasurable virtues—difficult to find even among other princes, and surpassing all others—Rama stood out. Seeing his son so endowed, the king, after consulting with his ministers, began to consider the installation of Rama as crown prince. But then, the wise king noticed ominous signs—dreadful portents in the sky, in the atmosphere, and upon the earth. He also felt the unmistakable signs of old age in his own body. At the same time, he recognized that Rama, whose face was radiant like the full moon and who dispelled all sorrow, was beloved by people everywhere. For the welfare of both himself and his subjects, and recognizing that the time was right, the righteous king, with devotion and affection, acted swiftly. He summoned the chiefs from the various cities and regions of his vast land. Adorned and resplendent, the king received them with proper honors and gifts, just as the lord of all creatures would greet his subjects. In his haste, however, he did not summon the ruler of Kekaya or Janaka, knowing they would hear the good news later. Once the king, subduer of enemy cities, had taken his seat, the remaining renowned kings entered the assembly. After the seats had been distributed, the assembled kings, observing all proper decorum, sat facing the king. Surrounded by these honored and disciplined rulers, by city-dwellers and country folk alike, King Dasharatha shone like Indra, the thousand-eyed Lord, among the immortals. Now, listen to the second chapter of this tale. The lord of the earth, having gathered the entire assembly, spoke words that were well-known, beneficial, and uplifting. With a voice full of feeling, marked by royal qualities, charm, and unmatched dignity, the king addressed the assembled rulers: “You all know how this excellent kingdom of mine was protected by my royal ancestors—as one would protect a beloved son. I, too, wish to dedicate this entire world, which has been so well-governed by the kings of the Ikshvaku line, to the pursuit of the highest good and happiness. Following the path set by my predecessors, I have always protected my people to the best of my ability, ever vigilant and sleepless. While seeking the welfare of the entire world, I have grown old under the shade of the white royal umbrella. Having lived for many thousands of years, and now that this body is worn out, I desire rest. I am weary from bearing the heavy burden of righteousness, which, though fitting for kings, is hard to sustain for those who have not mastered their senses. Therefore, after consulting these eminent Brahmins who are gathered here, I wish to rest, having installed my son for the welfare of the people.” Thus spoke King Dasharatha, his heart filled with love for his son, his mind set on the welfare of his people, and his actions guided by righteousness and wisdom.