Sita, her heart filled with anguish, turned to Rama and pleaded, “What is it that troubles you so, or what do you fear, that you wish to abandon me, who has no other refuge in this world? Know me to be like Savitri, who was steadfastly devoted to Satyavan, the valiant son of Dyumatsena, always acting according to his will. In my mind, I will not look upon anyone but you, O faultless one. I would rather follow you, Raghava, than become a woman who brings disgrace upon her family by seeking another’s protection. “You, Rama, wish to give away your wife—who is pure and has been with you since youth—to others, as if she were a dancer to be displayed. To the one for whom you have spoken what is right, and for whose sake you strive, you should always be obedient and compliant, O faultless one. You should not set out for the forest without taking me. Whether it be asceticism, the wilderness, or even heaven, let me share it with you. “I will not feel any weariness on the path as I follow behind you, just as I do during times of leisure and rest. The kusha grass, reeds, sharp-pointed stalks, and thorny trees along the way will feel as soft as cotton or deerskin to me, so long as I am with you. The dust raised by the great wind that falls upon me I will regard as precious sandalwood paste, beloved. “When I lie down on grassy patches in the forest, with bedding made of leaves, what could be more pleasant than that? Whatever leaves, roots, or fruits you bring to me, whether little or much, I will consider as sweet as nectar. There, I will not remember my mother, father, or home, as I delight in the flowers and fruits of the seasons. Nor should you expect to see anything unpleasant there; because of me, you will not have sorrow, nor will I become a burden to you. “With you, even heaven is heaven; without you, it is hell. Knowing this, O Rama, take me with you, for my love for you is the highest. But if you do not take me, unwavering as I am, to the forest, I will drink poison at once—may I not fall under the power of those who hate me. Even afterwards, in sorrow, I will have no life; abandoned by you, my lord, death at that moment would be better. I cannot endure this grief even for a moment—how then, sorrowful, for fourteen years?” Thus, tormented by grief, Sita lamented at length, embracing her husband tightly and crying out loudly in distress. Struck by many painful words, like a female elephant wounded by arrows, she released long-held tears, like fire bursting forth from kindling. From her lotus-like eyes flowed water as clear as crystal, born of her anguish. Her face, white and pure as the moon, with wide eyes, was dried by tears, like a lotus with its water drawn away. Then Rama, seeing her overcome by sorrow, embraced her with his arms and spoke words of comfort. “O lady, truly, not even heaven pleases me if it comes with sorrow; I have no fear at all, like the self-born creator. Without knowing your every wish, O auspicious one, I do not desire to dwell in the forest, even though I am able to protect you. “Since you were created together with me for dwelling in the forest, Maithili, my affection for you, as for my own self, cannot be abandoned. Indeed, O daughter of Janaka, I would not go to the forest if my father’s command, strengthened by truth, did not compel me. This is righteousness, O woman of lovely hips: obedience to father and mother. If I were to disregard their command, I could not bear to live. “How can one worship destiny, which is not under one’s control, by neglecting those who are—mother, father, and teacher? Where these three exist, O woman of auspicious eyes, it is as pure as the three worlds on earth; nothing else equals it, and thus it is to be revered. Neither truth, nor charity, nor honor, nor sacrifices with abundant gifts, O Sita, are as powerful as service to one’s father. Heaven, wealth, grain, knowledge, children, and happiness—nothing is unattainable through devoted service to one’s teacher. Great souls devoted to mother and father attain the worlds of the gods, Gandharvas, cows, and even Brahma’s realm. “As my father, established in the path of truth and righteousness, instructs me, so I wish to act; for that is the eternal law. My mind is firmly resolved, O Sita, to lead you to the Dandaka forest; so be ready to follow me and dwell there. You have been destined, O flawless-limbed one with enchanting eyes, for the forest; follow me, O gentle one, and be my companion in righteousness. “In every way, O Sita, your resolve is fitting for me and for your own lineage; your decision, O beautiful one, is most admirable. Begin, O woman of auspicious hips, the tasks suited for forest life; now, O Sita, even heaven does not please me without you. “Give jewels to the Brahmins and food to the mendicants; grant to those who ask, and hurry—do not delay. All the precious ornaments, fine garments, and whatever delightful items there are for play—beds, vehicles, and all my other possessions—give them to our servants, after giving to the Brahmins.” Thus, with hearts united in love and duty, Rama and Sita prepared together for their journey into the forest.