Lakshmana, burning with righteous indignation, turned to Kausalya and spoke with intensity: “O vanquisher of foes, relying on what strength or reason does our father wish to bestow this ready-made fortune upon Kaikeyi? Having made enmity with both you and me, what power does he have to grant the kingdom’s wealth to Bharata, O subduer of enemies?” His voice trembled with loyalty and resolve as he continued, “O queen, know that my heart is truly devoted to my brother. By truth, by my bow, and by the sacrifices I have performed, I swear to you: if Rama enters blazing fire or departs to the forest, know that I will precede him there.” Lakshmana’s determination shone like the morning sun, “With my strength I will dispel your sorrow, just as the sun drives away darkness at dawn. Let the queen witness my valor, and let Raghava see it as well. I will not hesitate even to slay my aged father, whose mind is now attached to Kaikeyi, pitiable and childish in his old age, condemned by his own actions.” Hearing these impassioned words from the great-souled Lakshmana, Kausalya, overwhelmed by grief and weeping, turned to Rama. Her voice was heavy with sorrow, “You should not, my son, after hearing the unrighteous words spoken by my co-wife, abandon me, tormented as I am by grief, and depart from here. You are renowned as one who knows righteousness and wishes to practice it faithfully. Therefore, remain here, serve me, and perform the highest duty.” She recalled the ancient example, “A son who dwelt obediently in his own house and served his mother—such was Kashyapa, who, endowed with great austerity, attained heaven. Just as the king is to be honored by you with respect, so too am I. Therefore, I do not permit you—do not go to the forest from here. For me, separated from you, there is no value in life or happiness. Even eating grass would be preferable, so long as it is with you.” Her grief deepened as she pleaded, “If you go to the forest, abandoning me who am consumed by sorrow, I will remain here, fasting unto death, for I will not be able to live. Then, my son, you will incur infamous hell, as one guilty of unrighteousness, just as the lord of rivers, the ocean, once did for the sin of brahminicide.” As Kausalya lamented thus in her distress, Rama, ever devoted to righteousness, spoke gently, his words rooted in dharma. “Mother, I do not have the power to transgress my father’s command. I beg you, with bowed head—permit me to go to the forest. Remember, even a sage, while living in the forest and obeying his father’s command, knowingly committed the unrighteous act of killing a cow, as did the wise Kandu. In our lineage, by the order of their father Sagara, his sons dug the earth, and great destruction occurred. Parashurama, son of Jamadagni, slew his own mother Renuka with an axe in the forest, to fulfill his father’s word.” He continued, his voice steady, “By these and many other godlike men, O noble lady, the father’s command was carried out without weakness; I too shall do what is pleasing to my father. Indeed, it is not by me alone that obedience to the father is practiced; it was done also by those whom I have just mentioned. I do not pursue a new or contrary path of righteousness; this is the course approved by the ancients, and I follow it. Therefore, this must be done by me on earth and in no other way; for by carrying out the father’s command, no one ever comes to harm.” Having thus spoken to his mother, Rama then addressed Lakshmana, the best among speakers and foremost among all bowmen. “Lakshmana, I know your unsurpassed affection for me, as well as your valor, steadfastness, and your formidable power. My mother, of auspicious character, suffers a great and incomparable sorrow, not understanding the true intent of truth and self-restraint. For righteousness is supreme in the world, and upon righteousness, truth is established; even this command of my father is rooted in righteousness and is most excellent. O hero, having pledged to the words of one’s father, mother, or a Brahmin, one who abides in righteousness must not disregard them in vain. Therefore, I will not be able to transgress the command again; for, O hero, by my father’s word, I have been urged by Kaikeyi.” He counseled Lakshmana further, “Therefore, abandon this noble resolve, grounded in the duty of warriors; take refuge in righteousness, not harshness—let your mind follow mine.” Out of affection, Rama spoke thus to his brother, and then, with joined palms and bowed head, addressed Kausalya once more. “Grant me your permission, O Lady, as I depart from here to the forest; you are bound to me by my very life—perform auspicious rites for me. Having fulfilled my vow, I shall return from the forest to the city, just as King Yayati, having once abandoned, returned again to heaven. Bear your grief in your heart, Mother, do not sorrow; I shall return here from the forest, having fulfilled my father’s command. By you, by me, by Vaidehi, by Lakshmana, and by Sumitra, we must abide by our father’s command—this is the eternal law. Mother, gather the necessary provisions and restrain your sorrow in your heart; since my mind is set on dwelling in the forest, let it be followed in righteousness.” Hearing these steadfast and unwavering words, the queen, as if returning to life from the depths of despair, gazed at Rama and spoke again, her voice trembling with love and pain. “Just as your father is to you, so am I—your teacher, by my duty and affection; I do not permit you, my son, to leave me, so deeply afflicted. What is life to me without you, or what is the world, or even the nectar of immortality? A moment in your presence is better for me than all the world of the living.” Thus, just as a great elephant, driven by torches, enters the darkness, so too did Rama, hearing his mother’s pitiful lament, burn even more with grief.