King Dasharatha, who had never before entered an empty chamber, made his way toward Kaikeyi’s quarters. Upon reaching the room, he inquired about her, unaware as ever of the selfishness and lack of wisdom brewing in her heart. He asked the doorkeeper about Kaikeyi, but the doorkeeper, frightened and with hands joined in respect, spoke softly, “Lord, the queen is greatly angered and has rushed to the chamber of wrath.” Hearing these troubling words, the king’s heart grew heavy with anxiety. His mind became disturbed, and his senses agitated. Entering the chamber, he saw Kaikeyi lying on the ground in a manner wholly unbefitting her royal dignity. The lord of the earth, as if scorched by sorrow, gazed upon his youthful wife—dearer to him than life itself—lying there, sinless himself, yet beholding her mind bent on evil. She lay like a creeper cut off, like a goddess fallen from grace, like a kinnari cast away, like a celestial apsaras brought low, like an illusion vanished, like a deer caught and subdued. She was as a female elephant wounded by a poisoned arrow from a forest hunter, distressed by affection, like a great elephant suffering in the wild. Dasharatha, deeply troubled, wiped his face with his hands and, his mind wracked with worry, addressed the lotus-eyed Kaikeyi: “I have never known anger in you, O lady. By whom have you been accused, or by whom insulted? O blessed one, why do you lie on the ground, covered in dust, causing me such sorrow when my mind is ever devoted to your welfare? It seems as if some being has afflicted your mind, and it disturbs my own heart. I have skilled physicians, all well-pleased and capable; they will restore you to happiness. Tell me, beautiful one, what illness afflicts you? Or is there some dear wish to be fulfilled, or has someone done you harm?” He pressed further: “Who today has gained great joy, or who has suffered great harm? Do not grieve, do not torment yourself, O lady. Who that is not to be slain should be slain, or who that is to be slain should be released? Who that is poor should become wealthy, or who that is rich should become destitute? Both I and all that is mine are under your command; I am not able to refuse any wish of yours. Speak what is in your heart, even at the cost of my own life; knowing my strength, you should not doubt me. I will fulfill your desire, I swear to you by my merit; as long as the wheel of time turns, so long is this earth mine. The Dravidas, Sindhus, Sauvīras, Saurāṣṭras, peoples of the southern lands, Vaṅgas, Aṅgas, Magadhas, Matsyas, the prosperous Kāśis and Kosalas—all these lands are filled with wealth, grain, and cattle. Therefore, Kaikeyi, choose from them whatever your mind desires.” He implored her, “Why do you trouble yourself, fearful one? Rise, rise, O beautiful one! Tell me truly, Kaikeyi, what has brought you fear; I will dispel it for you, as the sun disperses the mist.” Thus addressed, Kaikeyi, comforted and ready to speak her harsh request, began again to press her husband. Now, listen to the next chapter in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Ayodhyā section. Kaikeyi spoke harsh words to the king, who was pierced by the arrows of love and overcome by the force of desire. “O lord, I have not been wronged or insulted by anyone; but there is a certain wish in my heart, and I desire that you fulfill it. Swear to your promise, if you wish to grant it; then I will tell you what I truly desire.” The king, with a gentle smile, spoke to Kaikeyi, his beloved, taking her by the hair as she sat on the ground. “O proud one, you do not realize that there is no one dearer to me than Rama, that tiger among men. By that unconquered, foremost, high-souled Raghava—by Rama, who is worthy of life—I swear to you, speak whatever is in your heart. I surely could not live even for a moment without seeing Rama; by him, O Kaikeyi, I swear to fulfill your word. By that Rama, whom I choose above myself, my sons, and all others, O Kaikeyi, I swear to fulfill your request. Good lady, consider this in your heart and grant me relief; reflect well, Kaikeyi, and tell me what you think is right. Seeing your own strength, you should not hesitate; I will fulfill your wish, I swear to you by my own merit.” Delighted by these words, Kaikeyi revealed her dreadful intent, like Death itself arriving. “Since you swear and grant me a boon in due order, let the thirty-three gods, with Indra at their head, hear this. Let the moon and sun, the sky, the planets, night and day, the directions, the world, this earth, the Gandharvas, and all the Rakshasas bear witness. Let the night-wandering beings, spirits, household gods in the homes, and all other beings know what you have spoken. This one, steadfast in truth, of great splendor, knower of righteousness, truthful in speech and pure, grants me a boon—let all the gods hear.