Urged on by Kaikeyi, King Dasharatha was like a noble horse repeatedly prodded by a sharp goad. Though his heart was bound by righteousness, his mind was lost in confusion, and he longed to see his beloved eldest son, Rama, who was steadfast in dharma. When the auspicious night had passed and the sun had risen, the stars aligned favorably, and the proper moment for the royal consecration had arrived. Sage Vasiṣṭha, virtuous and surrounded by his disciples, swiftly assembled all the necessary items and entered the foremost city. He walked into Ayodhya, whose streets had been sprinkled and swept clean, adorned with splendid banners, bustling with joyful attendants, and thriving with shops and markets. The city was alive with festival preparations, fragrant with sandalwood, aloe, and incense, all in anticipation of Rāghava’s coronation. Passing through Ayodhya, which rivaled Indra’s own city in grandeur, the illustrious Vasiṣṭha saw the inner palace decorated with many kinds of banners. The palace was crowded with townspeople and countryfolk, graced by Brahmins holding staffs, filled with fine horses, and honored by all. Reaching the inner palace, Vasiṣṭha, greatly pleased and accompanied by eminent sages, made his way through the assembled throng. There he saw Sumantra, the renowned charioteer, emerging from the door of the lion among men—a minister pleasing to behold. The mighty Vasiṣṭha addressed Sumantra, the skilled son of a charioteer: “Quickly inform the king that I have arrived. Here are pitchers of Ganges water, golden vessels from the seas, and a sacred wooden seat of udumbara for the consecration. All kinds of seeds, fragrant substances, various jewels, honey, curds, ghee, parched grains, darbha grass, flowers, and milk are ready. There are eight lovely maidens, a noble intoxicated elephant, a splendid chariot with four horses, a sword, and an excellent bow. A vehicle attended by men, a parasol like the moon, white fly-whisks, and a golden vessel for sprinkling are here. A pale-hued, humped bull adorned with golden chains; a lion with four fangs, the foremost among monkeys, possessing great strength. A throne, a tiger skin, sacrificial firewood, and the fire for offerings; all kinds of musical instruments, and women adorned with ornaments. Teachers, Brahmins, sacred cows, auspicious beasts and birds; leading citizens of town and country, and merchants with their groups—all these and many others, delighted and speaking kindly, are assembled with the kings for Rama’s consecration. Go swiftly to the great king, so that, when the auspicious day arrives and the constellation Puṣya is in conjunction, Rama may obtain the kingdom.” Hearing these words, Sumantra, mighty in strength, entered the palace, praising the tiger among kings. The royal attendants at the door, unable to restrain the aged Sumantra, wished to please the king and let him pass. Standing near Dasharatha, perceiving his condition, Sumantra began to praise him with words of utmost satisfaction. With joined palms, he extolled the lord of the earth: “Just as the radiant ocean rejoices at the rising of the sun, so, with a joyful heart, may you bring us happiness. At this hour, Mātali praised Indra, who conquered all demons; likewise, I awaken you. Just as the Vedas with their branches and sciences awaken the self-born lord, Brahma, so I awaken you today. Just as the sun together with the moon awakens the beautiful earth, so I awaken you. Rise, O great king, with festivities and auspicious rites performed, shining in form like the sun upon Mount Meru. May Soma and Sūrya, O descendant of Kakutstha, Śiva and Kubera, Varuṇa, Agni, and Indra grant you victory. The blessed night has passed, your task is accomplished; awaken, tiger among kings, and attend to the next duty. All preparations for Rama’s consecration have been completed; the townspeople, country folk, and merchants stand with joined palms. The venerable Vasiṣṭha himself waits with the brāhmaṇas; quickly command, O King, the consecration of Rāghava. Just as cattle without a herdsman, an army without a leader, a night without the moon, or cows without a bull—so indeed will a kingdom become where the king is not seen.” Hearing Sumantra’s gentle yet meaningful words, Dasharatha was again overwhelmed by grief. Regarding his son, he spoke to Sumantra, his joy gone. His eyes, reddened with sorrow, shone with righteousness as he looked up and said, “Indeed, with your words you cut my heart again.” Seeing the king so dejected and hearing his sorrowful words, Sumantra, with hands joined, withdrew a little from that place. When the king, out of distress, was unable to speak, Kaikeyi, skilled in counsel, addressed Sumantra: “Sumantra, the king, longing for Rama’s consecration, spent the night sleepless and exhausted, and has now succumbed to sleep.