King Dasharatha, overwhelmed by anguish, pleaded with Kaikeyi, his beloved queen. “If I do not see Rama, my consciousness will be lost,” he cried. “Can the world remain without the sun, or crops without water? Without Rama, my life cannot remain in this body. Let this sinful resolve be abandoned at once.” Desperate, Dasharatha humbled himself before Kaikeyi. “I am ready to touch your feet with my head—be gracious to me. Why have you conceived such a dreadful thought, O sinful one? If you wish to test my affection or aversion for Bharata, let it be as you previously declared regarding Raghava. He is my eldest son, illustrious and foremost in righteousness; what you said was only for the sake of service.” His voice trembled with pain. “Hearing this, tormented by grief, you cause me great sorrow. You have become possessed in this empty house, now fallen under another’s control. O queen, a great calamity has come upon the house of the Ikshvakus, where your mind, once guided by virtue, has turned astray. Never before, O large-eyed one, did you do anything improper or displeasing to me; therefore, I cannot believe this of you.” He reminded her, “Surely, Raghava is equal to Bharata, the great-souled one, in your eyes; for as a child, you often told me so. How, O timid one, do you desire the exile to the forest for that righteous and renowned one for fourteen years? How do you wish for the dwelling in the harsh forest for him, who is extremely delicate and whose mind is set on righteousness? O auspicious-eyed one, why do you desire the banishment of Rama, who is charming and devoted to serving you?” Dasharatha’s grief grew deeper. “Indeed, Rama always serves you more than Bharata does; I do not see any special regard from Bharata towards you in this. Who else, apart from that best of men, would show greater service, respect, and obedience in word and deed? Among the many thousands of women and dependents, no reproach or slander is ever found against Raghava. Rama, the tiger among men, with a pure heart, wins over all beings with gentle words and wins the affection of the people. Raghava conquers the worlds by truth, the twice-born by charity, his elders by service, and his enemies in battle by the bow. Truthfulness, generosity, austerity, renunciation, friendship, purity, straightforwardness, learning, and service to elders—these are steadfast in Raghava.” He pleaded, “In him, endowed with uprightness, O lady, equal to the gods, how can you wish for evil against Rama, whose brilliance is like that of great sages? I do not recall ever speaking a harsh word to anyone, being one who speaks kindly to all; so how can I now, for your sake, speak to Rama a word that is pleasing to you but painful to him? In whom there is patience, austerity, renunciation, truth, righteousness, gratitude, and even nonviolence toward all beings—apart from him, where could I possibly turn?” Dasharatha’s voice was weary and broken. “You ought to show compassion to me, Kaikeyi, who am old, spent, devoted to austerity, wretched, and lamenting in my distress. Whatever can be obtained on earth, up to the ocean’s edge, I will give it all to you; but do not let anger take hold of you. I fold my hands to you, Kaikeyi, and even touch your feet; be the refuge of Rama—let unrighteousness not touch me here.” Thus, overwhelmed by sorrow, lamenting, unconscious, reeling, Dasharatha was completely overcome by grief. Again and again, he pleaded for deliverance from the ocean of sorrow, but Kaikeyi replied to him with words even harsher than before. “If, having granted me the two boons, O king, you now regret it,” she said coldly, “how will you speak of your righteousness on earth, O hero? When many royal sages assemble with you, O knower of dharma, and speak of righteousness, what will you say in reply? Will you say, ‘I live by her favor, and she protected me, yet I deceived her—Kaikeyi’? You will bring disgrace upon the kings, O lord of men, if, after granting a boon, you now speak otherwise.” She reminded him of ancient examples. “Shaibya gave his own flesh to a bird in the tale of the hawk and the dove; Alarka, giving up his eyes, attained the highest state. The ocean, having made a vow, does not cross its boundary; do not break your promise, remembering what was done before. So you, abandoning righteousness and installing Rama as king, wish always to enjoy yourself with Kausalya, O wicked-minded one.” Kaikeyi’s resolve was unyielding. “Let it be unrighteousness or righteousness, truth or falsehood—whatever you have promised to me, there can be no violation of it. For I will drink poison right now, here before you, and die before your eyes if Rama is anointed king. If I could see Rama’s mother for even a single day, accepting my salutation, surely death would be better for me. By Bharata and by myself, O king of men, I swear to you: I would not be pleased by anything except Rama’s exile.” Having spoken thus, Kaikeyi fell silent; she did not reply further to the king, who was lamenting. Hearing Kaikeyi’s words, so striking, about Rama dwelling in the forest and Bharata’s sovereignty, the king, his senses disturbed, did not speak to Kaikeyi for a moment; he gazed at the queen, unmoving, though she spoke unpleasantly.