With sorrowful eyes, King Dasharatha gazed upon Kaikeyi and spoke with a trembling voice, “Never before, O large-eyed one, have you done anything improper or displeasing to me. Therefore, I cannot believe this of you now. Surely, Raghava is as dear to you as Bharata, the great-souled one, for in the days of their childhood, you often told me so yourself. How is it, O timid one, that you now desire exile to the forest for that righteous and renowned Rama, and that too for fourteen years? How can you wish for such a harsh life in the forest for him, who is so delicate and whose mind is ever set on righteousness? O auspicious-eyed one, why do you seek the banishment of Rama, who is so charming and ever devoted to serving you? Indeed, Rama always serves you more than Bharata does; I do not see any special regard from Bharata toward you in this matter. 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 in this palace, never has a reproach or slander been uttered 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 virtues are steadfast in Raghava. In him, endowed with uprightness and equal to the gods, O lady, how can you wish for evil against Rama, whose brilliance is like that of the great sages? I do not recall ever speaking a harsh word to anyone, for I am one who speaks kindly to all. How then can I, for your sake, speak to Rama a word that would please you but bring pain to him? In whom else could I find such patience, austerity, renunciation, truth, righteousness, gratitude, and even nonviolence toward all beings? Apart from him, where could I possibly turn? 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.” Overwhelmed by sorrow, lamenting and reeling, the great king was completely overcome by grief. Again and again he pleaded with her, seeking deliverance from his ocean of sorrow. But Kaikeyi replied with words even harsher than before. “If, having granted me the two boons, O king, you now regret it, how will you speak of your righteousness on earth, O hero? When many royal sages assemble with you and speak of righteousness, what will you say in reply? Will you say, ‘I lived 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. 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. But you, abandoning righteousness and installing Rama as king, wish always to enjoy yourself with Kausalya, O wicked-minded one. 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 and did not reply further to the king’s lamentations. Hearing Kaikeyi’s striking words about Rama’s dwelling in the forest and Bharata’s sovereignty, the king’s senses were disturbed; he did not speak to Kaikeyi for a moment but gazed at her, unmoving, though she spoke unpleasantly. Those words, like thunder, struck painfully at his heart, filling him with grief and sorrow; the king was not happy. Reflecting on the queen’s resolve and her dreadful oath, sighing “Rama,” he fell like a tree cut down. His mind lost, like one mad and confused, his vigor gone, like a serpent deprived of its strength, the lord of the earth became. With a weak and distressed voice, he spoke to Kaikeyi, “Who has advised you this ruinous act, which appears as benefit? You speak to me without shame, as if your mind is possessed by spirits; I never knew this vice in your character before. But now, I see in you, as in a child, this reversal. From where has this fear arisen, that you have chosen such a boon? You wish for Bharata to sit on the throne and for Raghava to dwell in the forest; cease from this attitude and from this falsehood.