Rama, his heart steady and his voice gentle, turned to Lakshmana, saying, “Saumitri, the efforts undertaken for my consecration must now be redirected—let us use them to annul it. We must act so that our mother, whose mind is troubled on account of my impending consecration, no longer remains anxious. I cannot endure, even for a moment, the pain of suspicion that has arisen in her heart. Never, knowingly or unknowingly, have I done anything to displease my mothers or my father. “My father is steadfast in truth, unwavering in his vows, and lives his life in devotion to righteousness. He should be fearless, concerned only with the consequences of his actions in the next world. If I do not fulfill this command, even for her sake, I would be tormented by the thought that truth has not been upheld, and her anguish would weigh heavily upon me. “Therefore, Lakshmana, let us withdraw the arrangements for my consecration. I wish to leave for the forest at once. Today, with my departure into exile, the king’s wife will have accomplished her desire, and then her son Bharata can be consecrated, free from worry. When I have gone to the forest, clad in bark garments and crowned with matted hair, Kaikeyi will find peace. “The decision that has brought this about, and the mind so firmly resolved, ought not to be disturbed. I will go into exile without delay. O gentle one, it is fate alone that must be seen in my banishment and in the reversal of the kingdom that had already been promised. How could Kaikeyi’s resolve to harm me have arisen unless it was ordained by fate? You know well, Lakshmana, that I have never shown any distinction among my mothers, nor any special preference for her or for her son. “Thus, with her harsh words, meant to prevent my consecration and send me into exile, I see no other cause but fate behind her actions. How could a princess, endowed with noble qualities, speak like an ordinary woman and cause me pain before her husband? But destiny, which is beyond all thought, does not spare even the living; clearly, misfortune has befallen both her and me. Who, gentle Lakshmana, can contend with fate, when nothing but what is destined ever comes to pass? “Even seers of fierce austerity, driven by fate, abandon their vows and fall prey to desire and anger. Whatever arises unexpectedly, without being conceived beforehand, and interrupts what has already begun—surely, that is the work of fate. With this understanding, restraining myself by my own mind, I feel no sorrow, even though my consecration has been hindered. “Therefore, do not grieve. You too, following me, should quickly withdraw the preparations for the consecration. With these very jars, prepared for the royal rite, I will perform the vow-bath of an ascetic. Or, if need be, I shall draw water myself for the bath required by my vow; what use have I for royal paraphernalia? Do not be troubled by this reversal of fortune, Lakshmana. Whether it is the kingdom or the forest, life in the forest is of great merit. “Lakshmana, you are not to be suspected in this obstruction to my kingship, nor is my younger mother; fate has intervened, not my father, as you well know how powerful destiny is.” As Rama spoke thus, the story continues into the next chapter. Lakshmana, his head bowed, quickly entered the midst, his mind seized by sorrow and anger. The best of men—Lakshmana—furrowed his brow, breathing heavily like a great serpent enraged in its den. At that moment, his face, fierce with its frown, was as hard to look upon as the face of an angry lion. He shook his clenched fist, like an elephant shaking its trunk, and, tilting his head to the side and upward, let his neck fall. Glancing at his brother from the corner of his eyes, Lakshmana spoke: “This great agitation of yours, brother, has arisen in vain. Because of your concern for a fault in righteousness, and excessive regard for public opinion, how could someone as unshaken as you speak in this way? How is it that you, a valiant Kshatriya, speak so weakly of fate, as if it were powerless and pitiable? How is it that you do not suspect any wrongdoing in those two? There are indeed people who use righteousness as a pretense—do you not perceive this, O righteous one? “If their conduct were truly sincere, and not driven by selfishness or deceit, then, Raghava, the boon would have been granted to them long ago, and it would have been a proper one. I cannot bear, O hero, the initiation of another’s consecration, which has begun in a way hated by the people—please forgive me for this. Even that righteousness, O wise one, which has led your mind into doubt, is hateful to me, since it causes you to be bewildered. “How can you, by your own action, obey your father’s unrighteous and blameworthy command, acting under Kaikeyi’s influence? Though this division has been caused by wickedness, you still do not recognize it; that brings me sorrow, and your attachment to righteousness is blameworthy here. This adherence to righteousness of yours is condemned by the world; how could you, even in thought, serve those two, who act always for their own gain and are enemies, though called father and mother?” Thus spoke Lakshmana, his heart burning with pain and indignation, as he confronted his beloved brother Rama.