With hearts weighed down by sorrow, Rama and Lakshmana gently embraced their father, King Dasharatha, wrapping him in their arms. Together with Sita, they tenderly placed the weeping monarch upon his couch, seeking to comfort him in his grief. After a moment, Rama saw the king slowly regain consciousness. Standing before his father with joined palms, tears streaming down his face, Rama spoke with humility and devotion: “Great king, lord of us all, I take leave of you as I depart for the Dandaka forest. May you see me safe and well. Please grant permission to Lakshmana, and allow Sita to accompany me; though many true reasons restrain them, they do not wish to remain behind. Grant permission to all of us, O giver of honor, casting off your grief—as the Lord of creatures does for his children.” Rama waited for the king’s untroubled consent, gazing at him with expectation. Dasharatha, addressing Rama about his exile, replied in anguish: “O Raghava, deluded by Kaikeyi’s boon, I am bound and powerless. You alone should be king in Ayodhya today, restraining me from this fate.” Hearing his father’s words, Rama, the embodiment of righteousness, bowed respectfully and skillfully replied: “You, O king, should rule the earth for a thousand years; I desire no kingdom, and will dwell in the forest. After fourteen years, I will return and again clasp your feet, O lord of men, at the end of my vow.” But Dasharatha, weeping and distressed, bound by the fetter of truth and urged by Kaikeyi, spoke to his beloved son: “Go without anxiety, dear Rama, upon a safe and unobstructed path—for your welfare, growth, and return. Indeed, O delight of the Raghus, it is not possible to turn back the resolve of one such as you, whose mind is set on truth and righteousness. But, my son, do not leave tonight under any circumstances; let me spend at least this one day in your presence.” The king continued, his pain evident: “What you are doing, beloved Raghava, is truly difficult; for my sake, you have taken up the forest life in this way. But this does not please me, my son—by truth I swear, O Raghava; I have been deceived by a woman as destructive as fire hidden beneath ashes. The deception that has befallen me, you wish to overcome, being urged by Kaikeyi, who is steadfast in her resolve but unrighteous in conduct. Nor is it surprising, my son, that you, my eldest, wish to keep your father free from falsehood.” Hearing his father’s distress, Rama sorrowfully spoke to Lakshmana: “What virtues will I gain today, and who will grant them to me tomorrow? Therefore, I choose only to depart, renouncing all desires. This earth, with its provinces, people, wealth, and grain, I relinquish; let it be given to Bharata. My resolve to dwell in the forest will not waver today; the boon you granted to Kaikeyi in battle, O bestower of boons, must be fulfilled. Let it be given in full—be true to your word, O king; I will carry out your command exactly as spoken. I will dwell in the forest for fourteen years with the forest-dwellers; do not hesitate—let the earth be given to Bharata. I do not desire the kingdom, nor happiness, nor anything dear to myself, as much as I wish to carry out your command, O delight of the Raghus. Let your sorrow depart, do not be overwhelmed with tears; the mighty ocean, lord of rivers, is never disturbed. I do not desire the kingdom, nor happiness, nor the earth, nor any of these pleasures, nor heaven, nor even life itself. You alone I desire in truth, O best of men, not falsehood; by your truth and virtue, I swear this before you. Nor is it possible for me, father, to remain even for a moment; bear this grief, for there will be no change in my resolve.” Rama continued, affirming his commitment: “O Raghava, I have indeed been requested by Kaikeyi to go to the forest, and I replied, ‘I will go.’ I am now faithfully upholding that truth. Do not be anxious, O Lord; we shall enjoy ourselves in the forest, peaceful and filled with gentle deer, resounding with the calls of many birds. For, my father is regarded as a deity, even among the gods themselves, O dear one. Therefore, as if it were divine command, I shall carry out my father’s word.” He reassured Dasharatha: “When fourteen years have passed, O best of kings, you will see me returned; let go of this sorrow. You, O tiger among men, who ought to restrain all these tears, why have you yourself succumbed to distress? The city, the kingdom, and the land itself I relinquish; let them be given to Bharata. I, obeying your command, shall go to the forest to dwell for a long time. Let Bharata rule over this land, with its mountains, cities, and groves, which I have relinquished; let him govern well within its auspicious borders. Whatever you have said, O King, so let it be. O King, my mind is not drawn so much to great pleasures or even to what is dear to myself, as it is to carrying out your command, esteemed by the noble. May your sorrow on my account depart, O faultless one. Therefore, O faultless one, today I do not desire the imperishable kingdom, nor the earth with all its enjoyments, nor even Maithili. I would not choose anything by binding you to falsehood; let truth be your vow.” He spoke of his contentment: “Living in the forest, eating fruits and roots, seeing the mountains, rivers, and lakes, entering the forest with its wondrous trees, I shall be happy; may you find peace.” Overwhelmed by calamity and pain, King Dasharatha embraced his son once more, but his grief was so great that he lost consciousness, fell to the ground, and lay unmoving, stricken by sorrow.