With great earnestness, King Dasharatha addressed his assembled ministers and priests, his heart filled with concern for the flawless completion of his most excellent sacrifice. He cautioned them, “Let there be no grave error in this sacrifice, for the learned Brahmarakshasas are ever watchful for the slightest flaw. If a sacrifice is performed without proper procedure, its performer is immediately ruined. Therefore, let my sacrifice be completed strictly according to the rules.” Hearing his command, the honored ministers replied, “So be it,” and set about making all arrangements as the king had instructed. The twice-born Brahmins, learned in righteousness, encouraged the noble king, assuring him that everything would be done according to sacred tradition. With their permission granted, the Brahmins took their leave, and Dasharatha turned to his ministers, instructing them, “Let the sacrifice be performed exactly as the officiating priests direct.” Having dismissed his counselors, the wise king entered his palace and went to his beloved wives, who held him dear in their hearts. To them he spoke gently, “Undertake the vow of consecration; I shall perform the sacrifice for the sake of a son.” His words, sweet and full of hope, brought radiant joy to the faces of his queens, who shone like lotuses at the end of winter. Now, listen to the next chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakāṇḍa. In private, Dasharatha’s charioteer Sumantra approached the king and spoke respectfully, “Let me tell you what happened in ancient times, as I have heard from the old tales. This account, as instructed by the officiating priests, I have learned before; the venerable Sanatkumāra once told this story before the sages, O King, concerning the coming of your son.” Sumantra continued, “There is a son of Kāśyapa named Vibhāṇḍaka. His son, who will be known as Ṛśyaśṛṅga, always grows up in the forest, living as a sage among the woods. This best of Brahmins knows no one else, always following his father. The great-souled Ṛśyaśṛṅga observes a twofold discipline of celibacy. This is well known among people and is always told by the Brahmins. As he lived thus, the destined time arrived.” “At that very time, while he was serving the sacred fire and his illustrious father, the powerful Romapada became renowned—a mighty king, celebrated among the people of Anga. But due to a transgression by that king, a most terrible calamity occurred. In his distress, the king summoned learned Brahmins and addressed them, ‘You are versed in sacred rites and know the customs of the world. Instruct me in the proper discipline and expiation that should be performed.’ Thus addressed, all the eminent Brahmins replied, ‘O ruler, by every means bring here the son of Vibhandaka.’” “They advised, ‘Having brought here, with due honor, Ṛśyaśṛṅga, the son of Vibhandaka and a Brahmin accomplished in the Vedas, O king, give him your daughter Shanta in marriage, with proper rites and full attention.’ Hearing their words, King Romapada became anxious, wondering by what means that powerful sage could be brought to his city. After careful deliberation with his ministers, the wise king sent his priests and counselors, treating them with respect. Yet, hearing the king’s command, those men, troubled and with bowed heads, hesitated to go, fearing the sage, and tried to persuade the king otherwise. After further consideration, they agreed, saying, ‘We will bring the sage here, and there will be no fault in this.’” “Thus, by the king of Anga, Ṛśyaśṛṅga, the sage’s son, was brought by courtesans; then rain fell upon the land, and Shanta was given to him in marriage. Ṛśyaśṛṅga became your son-in-law and will grant you sons. This much, as told by Sanatkumara, I have related.” Hearing this, Dasharatha was delighted and asked Sumantra, “Tell me by what means Ṛśyaśṛṅga was brought here.” Now, listen to the tenth chapter in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakāṇḍa. Thus prompted by the king, Sumantra spoke: “Hear from me, together with the ministers, exactly how Ṛśyaśṛṅga was brought here. Romapada, together with his ministers and priest, devised a means that was safe and without fault. Ṛśyaśṛṅga, dwelling in the forest, devoted to austerity and study, was unacquainted with women, worldly pleasures, or enjoyments. ‘By means of sense-objects, delightful and alluring, which disturb the minds of men, we shall quickly bring him to the city; let this be resolved,’ they said.” “It was decided: let the beautiful courtesans, adorned with their ornaments, go there; by employing various means of persuasion, they would bring him, having been treated with honor. Hearing this, the king replied to the priest, ‘So be it,’ and the priest and counselors acted accordingly. The chief courtesans entered the great forest, and not far from the hermitage, they made efforts to see Ṛśyaśṛṅga. The sage’s steadfast son, ever content with his father, did not stray far from the hermitage. From birth, that ascetic had never seen a woman, a man, or any other being from the city or kingdom.” “Those women, adorned in varied attire and singing with sweet voices, approached the sage’s son and spoke to him, ‘Who are you, O Brahmin? What are you doing here? We wish to know. You wander alone in this dreadful, deserted forest—tell us.’” Thus, the story unfolded, as Sumantra recounted to Dasharatha the wondrous tale of Ṛśyaśṛṅga’s coming, which would at last lead to the fulfillment of the king’s dearest wish.