When the king was alone, his charioteer Sumantra approached and spoke with reverence: “O King, let me recount to you an ancient tale, as I have heard it from elders and the old stories. This account, as the learned priests have narrated, I once heard from the venerable Sanatkumāra himself. In the presence of great sages, Sanatkumāra spoke of the coming of your son, and told of a sage named Vibhāṇḍaka, son of Kāśyapa. Vibhāṇḍaka’s son, he said, would be called Ṛśyaśṛṅga—a child who would grow up deep in the forest, living always as a sage among the woods. This best of Brahmins would know no one else, ever devoted to his father, following him in all things. The great-souled Ṛśyaśṛṅga would observe a twofold discipline of celibacy, and this was well known among the Brahmins and often recounted among the people. Thus he lived, and when the destined time arrived, Ṛśyaśṛṅga was serving the sacred fire and his illustrious father. At that same time, a powerful and renowned king named Romapada ruled over the people of Anga. Yet, because of a certain transgression by this king, a terrible calamity befell his land. Seeking a remedy, Romapada summoned learned Brahmins and addressed them: ‘You who are versed in the sacred rites and the customs of the world, instruct me in the proper discipline and expiation that should be performed.’ Thus addressed, the eminent Brahmins replied: ‘O king, by every means, bring here the son of Vibhāṇḍaka. Welcome Rishyasringa, the sage’s son, with due honor. He is accomplished in the Vedas. Give him your daughter Shanta in marriage, with all the proper rites and full attention.’ Hearing their words, the king became anxious, wondering how such a powerful and secluded sage could be brought to his city. After much deliberation with his ministers, the wise king sent his priests and counselors, treating them with respect and care. But when these men heard the king’s command, they were troubled and hesitant, bowing their heads in fear of the sage. They tried to persuade the king to reconsider, but after further thought, they assured him: ‘We will bring the sage here, and there will be no fault in this.’ Thus, by the efforts of the king of Anga, Rishyasringa, the sage’s son, was brought to the kingdom through the means of courtesans. When Rishyasringa arrived, rain fell upon the land, ending the calamity, and Shanta was given to him in marriage. Rishyasringa became your son-in-law, O King, and he will grant you sons. This much, as told by Sanatkumāra, I have related to you.” Hearing this, King Dasharatha was delighted and said to Sumantra, “Tell me by what means Rishyasringa was brought here.” Sumantra then spoke: “Hear from me, O King, and ministers, exactly how Rishyasringa was brought here. King Romapada, together with his ministers and priest, devised a plan that was safe and without fault. Rishyasringa, dwelling in the forest, was devoted to austerity and study. He was unacquainted with women, with worldly pleasures, or with any kind of enjoyment. ‘By means of sense-objects—delightful and alluring things that disturb the minds of men—we shall quickly bring him to the city,’ they resolved. ‘Let beautiful courtesans, adorned with ornaments, go to him. By various means of persuasion, they will bring him here, having been treated with honor.’ Hearing this, the king replied, ‘So be it.’ The priest and counselors acted accordingly. The chief courtesans, having heard the plan, entered the great forest. Not far from the hermitage, they made efforts to see the sage’s son. Ṛśyaśṛṅga, ever content with his father and never straying far from the hermitage, had from birth never seen a woman, a man, or any being from the city or kingdom. The 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.’ Their forms, unseen before and alluring, stirred his heart in the forest, and he resolved to tell them about his father. ‘Our father is Vibhandaka, and I am his own son. My name and deeds are known in the world as Rishyasringa. Our hermitage is nearby, O beautiful ones. I will offer you all proper hospitality here, according to custom.’ Hearing his words, the women resolved to visit the hermitage, and so they all went there. When they arrived, the sage’s son performed hospitality, saying, ‘Here is water for washing, here is water for the feet, here are roots and fruits for you.’ Receiving such hospitality, the women became eager, but, afraid of the sage Vibhandaka, they quickly decided to depart. They said, ‘O Brahmin, here are our finest fruits as well—please accept them, noble one, and eat without delay.’ Then, filled with joy, they embraced him and gave him sweet cakes and various delightful foods. Tasting those offerings, the radiant sage thought, ‘These are fruits,’ for, living always in the forest, he had never tasted such things before. Thus, O King, by these means, Rishyasringa was brought to Anga, and through his presence, prosperity returned to the land.