Rama, the prince and son of the king, was a being whom none could despise, untouched by the sway of time itself. Endowed with the highest virtues, he shone as a paragon among men. His forbearance was so great that he was esteemed throughout all three worlds, his patience likened to the very earth. In wisdom he was compared to Brihaspati, the preceptor of the gods, and in strength, to Indra, the mighty lord of Shachi. Beloved by all people and deeply pleasing to his father, Rama radiated virtues as the sun does its rays. His conduct and prowess were unconquerable, befitting a lord of the world, and the earth herself longed for him as her protector. Witnessing these countless, incomparable virtues in his son, King Dasharatha—the subduer of foes—became lost in deep thought. In his old age, the king pondered, “How might Rama become king while I am still alive?” A supreme affection for Rama dwelled constantly in his heart, and he wondered, “When shall I behold my beloved son anointed as king?” For Rama’s compassion extended to all beings, and he desired the welfare of the world. He was dearer to the people than the king himself, as the rain-bringing cloud is cherished by the earth. In strength, Rama was Yama and Indra’s equal; in wisdom, he matched Brihaspati; in steadfastness, he was like the lord of mountains; and in virtue, he surpassed even his own father. King Dasharatha thought, “If only I could see my son ruling this entire earth in my lifetime, it would be as if I had attained heaven.” With these and many other rare and immeasurable virtues—difficult to find even among other princes and surpassing those known to the world—Rama stood alone. Seeing his son so richly endowed, King Dasharatha, after consulting with his ministers, began to consider Rama’s installation as crown prince. Yet, as he made these preparations, the wise king perceived dreadful omens of fear arising in the sky, the atmosphere, and on earth, and he noticed the signs of old age within his own body. He also understood that great-souled Rama, whose face shone like the full moon and who dispelled his sorrows, was beloved by all the people of the world. For the welfare of himself and his subjects, and recognizing the proper time had come, the righteous king, filled with devotion and affection, acted swiftly. He summoned the chiefs from various cities and distinct regions of the land. When they arrived, the king, adorned and resplendent, received them with appropriate honors and gifts, just as the lord of creatures welcomes his subjects. In his haste, however, he did not summon the ruler of Kekaya or Janaka, knowing they would hear the good news later. When the king, conqueror of enemy cities, had taken his seat, the remaining renowned kings entered. After the king distributed the various seats, the assembled kings, observing proper decorum, sat facing him. Surrounded by honored and disciplined kings, city-dwellers, and country folk, the king shone like Indra, the thousand-eyed lord, among the immortals. Having gathered the entire assembly, the lord of the earth spoke words well-known, beneficial, and uplifting. Addressing the assembled rulers with a voice full of feeling, marked by royal qualities, charm, and matchless dignity, he said: “You all know how this excellent kingdom of mine was protected by my royal ancestors, as one would protect a son. I, too, wish to dedicate this entire world—well-governed by all the kings of the Ikṣvāku 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 striving for the welfare of the world, I have grown old under the shade of the white royal umbrella. Having lived for many thousands of years, and with this body now 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, I wish to rest, having installed my son for the welfare of the people, after consulting all these eminent Brahmins who are gathered here. For my son, who is superior to me in every virtue, has been born; Rama, conqueror of enemy cities, is equal to Indra in strength. Him, joined with the constellation Puṣya like the moon, foremost among upholders of righteousness and best among men, I shall appoint as crown prince tomorrow morning. He, the elder brother of Lakshmana, adorned with fortune, is a fitting lord for you, under whose rule even the three worlds would be better protected. By this excellent act, I shall at once unite this earth with prosperity, and, having entrusted it to my son, I shall become free from toil. If this plan of mine, well considered and fitting, pleases you, let it be approved by you all; or tell me how else I should act. Even if this is my desire, let some other beneficial course be considered, for impartial deliberation in the midst of discussion brings forth greater clarity.” As the king spoke thus, the delighted kings responded with joy, like peacocks calling to a great rain-cloud full of rain. Then a gentle, approving sound arose, filled with joy and echoing among the multitude, as if shaking the very earth. Understanding fully the king’s intent, the Brahmins and chiefs of the army, together with the citizens and country folk, rejoiced, recognizing the righteousness and wisdom of his words.