With gentle devotion, Sītā spoke to Rāma, her heart full of love and resolve. “I will walk before you on the path, and only after you have eaten will I take my meal. Then, I wish to behold the mountains, the serene ponds and lakes that lie ahead. With you as my wise protector, I shall fearlessly gaze upon the lotus-filled waters, where swans and cranes dwell, and the blossoms bloom in beauty. Joined with you, O hero, my delight will be in seeing these wonders; I shall joyfully bathe in those ponds, ever devoted to you. “With you, O wide-eyed one, I shall find supreme happiness. Whether for a hundred years or a thousand, let me be with you, rejoicing always. I will never go against your wishes; even the splendors of heaven hold no allure for me. If it were possible to dwell in heaven without you, O Rāghava, O tiger among men, I would not desire even that. I will go to the forest, however difficult it may be, filled as it is with deer, monkeys, and elephants. There, with your blessing, holding your feet, I shall dwell as if in my father’s house. “My devotion is unwavering, my heart bound to yours. If I were to be parted from you, I am resolved I could not live. Please, grant me this request; take me with you. You will find no added burden in me.” Though Sītā spoke thus, with righteousness and steadfastness, Rāma, the foremost of men, did not wish to take her with him. He spoke many words, seeking to dissuade her, addressing her sorrow at the prospect of living in the forest. Rāma, who loved righteousness and recognized Sītā’s virtue, pondered the hardships awaiting in the wilderness. He comforted her, seeing her eyes stained with tears, and spoke gently to persuade her to remain behind. “Sītā, you are born of noble lineage and are ever devoted to righteousness. Stay here and practice virtue, so that my mind may be at ease. “O gentle one, you must do as I say. Listen: there are many dangers in the forest for those who dwell there. Give up this intention of living in the wild, for the wilderness is so called because it is full of dangers. I say this out of concern and wise counsel; there, I know only sorrow, never happiness. “The roars of lions, echoing from mountain caves, are painful to hear. Wild animals, fearless and intoxicated, play in deserted places. Seeing them is distressing. The rivers teem with crocodiles, muddy and hard to cross, and even for elephants the forest is full of suffering. The paths are tangled with thorny vines, echoing with peacock cries, lacking water and exceedingly hard to traverse. “One must sleep on beds of leaves, broken and scattered on the ground, weary from toil at night. Day and night, contentment and self-restraint are needed, living only on fruits fallen from trees. Fasting must be observed as long as life endures, O Maithili, and one must bear matted hair and garments of bark. Rites for the gods and ancestors must be performed properly, and arriving guests always honored. Three times daily, a bath must be taken at the proper times, with discipline. Offerings must be made with flowers gathered by oneself, according to Vedic rites. “One must be content with whatever is found, whatever food the forest yields. Fierce winds, darkness, and constant hunger prevail, and great dangers lurk. Many serpents of various forms roam boldly along the paths, and snakes dwelling in the rivers block the way. Moths, scorpions, insects, and biting flies torment the weak. The trees are thorny, and kuśa and kāśa grasses grow thick, their branches tangled. “There are many bodily hardships and fears for one who dwells in the wild. Anger and greed must be abandoned; one must set the mind on austerity, fearing nothing. For all these reasons, it is not fitting for you to go to the forest. No safety awaits you there; as I consider, I see only dangers in the forest.” But though Rāma, the great-souled one, did not decide to take her, Sītā did not heed his words. Deeply distressed, she spoke to him again. Her face streamed with tears as she slowly replied, “All the faults you have mentioned about forest life—out of love for you, I see them as virtues. “The deer, lions, elephants, tigers, sharabhas, camels, wild boars, and all the creatures that roam the forest—because they have never seen your form before, O Rāghava, all of them, upon seeing you, will flee. Truly, all are afraid of you.