Once, by the power of a boon, your father—the lord of all the earth—gained the wondrous ability to understand the speech of every being, even the voices of animals. One night, as he lay upon the bed of Jṛmbha, the illustrious king heard the many sounds of creatures all around him, and their conversations amused him so deeply that he laughed again and again. Witnessing this, your mother, angered and overwhelmed by dark thoughts, demanded of your father, "Tell me, I wish to know the reason for your laughter." The king replied, "O Queen, if I reveal to you the cause of my laughter, then I will die at once—of this there can be no doubt." Yet your mother, persistent and insistent, said once more, "Tell me, whether you live or die, you must not deceive me." Thus pressed by his beloved, the king of Kekaya spoke truthfully about the boon he had received. Then the boon-giver, pleased with his honesty, replied, "Let this not be spoken of, O lord of the earth, whether it leads to death or destruction." Hearing these words, the king, his mind set at ease, immediately dismissed your mother and enjoyed himself like Kubera, the lord of wealth. In the same way, you too, following a path tread by the wicked, are, out of delusion, seizing upon a false resolve, O you who see only evil. Here, the old saying rings true to me: "Men follow after their fathers, women after their mothers." Do not act thus; accept what the lord of the earth has decreed. Attend to your husband's wishes, and be a refuge for these people. Do not, urged by sinful counsel, cause your husband—equal to the king of the gods and the sustainer of the world—to act unrighteously. For your sinless husband, the illustrious king Dasharatha, lotus-eyed, will not break a promise once made, O queen. Let Rama, the eldest son—generous, accomplished, and protector of his own duty and of all living beings—be consecrated as king. For, O queen, a great reproach will fall upon you in the world if Rama is sent to the forest, abandoning his royal father. Let Raghava protect the kingdom; be free from distress. For none but Raghava is fit to dwell in this noble city. Thus, with both gentle and stern words, Sumantra, with joined palms, tried again to move Kaikeyi in the royal assembly. But the queen showed no sign of being disturbed or distressed; not even the color of her face changed. Now, listen to the next chapter in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa. The Ikshvaku king, tormented by the weight of his promise, spoke again to Sumantra, his charioteer, with tears streaming down and deep sighs: "O charioteer, let the army, adorned with jewels and all four divisions, be quickly prepared to accompany Rāghava. Let women famed for their beauty, eloquent speakers, and wealthy merchants adorn the well-arranged troops of the prince. And those who depend on him, and those who delight in his strength—after giving them many kinds of gifts, assign them here as well. Let the chief weapons, the townspeople, the carts, and the skilled hunters of the forest follow Kakutstha. Killing deer and elephants, drinking wild honey, and seeing various rivers, he will not remember the kingdom. "Whatever stores of grain or treasures I possess, let both follow Rāma as he dwells in the lonely forest. Performing sacrifices in holy places, giving abundant gifts, and meeting with sages, he will live happily in the forest. And mighty-armed Bharata will rule Ayodhyā; let all desires be fulfilled for the illustrious Rāma again." When Kaikeyī spoke thus about Kakutstha, fear overcame her; her face dried up and her voice was choked. Distressed and frightened, her face parched, Kaikeyī turned toward the king and spoke: "Bharata will not desire a kingdom deprived of wealth, empty and devoid of any enjoyment, like liquor with its spirit gone." As Kaikeyī, having cast off all shame, spoke these harsh words, King Daśaratha addressed her, whose eyes were wide as lotus petals: "Why do you strike me as I bear this heavy yoke? Unworthy woman, why did you not restrain me before this deed was begun?" Hearing these words, spoken in anger, the noble lady Kaikeyī, doubly enraged, replied to the king: "In your own lineage, Sagara banished his eldest son, Asamañja; so too should this one depart." Thus addressed with "Shame on you!", King Daśaratha replied; all the people were ashamed, but she did not understand it. Then an aged minister named Siddhārtha, pure and highly esteemed by the king, spoke these words to Kaikeyī: "Asamañja, while playing on the road, would seize children and, throwing them into the waters of the Sarayū, found pleasure in this wickedness. Seeing this, all the townspeople, angered, spoke to the king: 'Choose either Asamañja or us, O increaser of the realm.' Then the king asked them, 'For what reason is this fear?' And when questioned, the citizens replied...