Sumantra, the wise minister, spoke earnestly to Queen Kaikeyi in the royal assembly, his hands joined in respect. "Do not act in this way," he pleaded. "Accept what the lord of the earth, King Dasharatha, has said. Attend to your husband's wishes here, and be the refuge of these people who look to you for guidance. Do not, urged by sinful counsel, cause your husband—who is as worthy as the king of the gods, the very sustainer of the world—to act against righteousness. Your sinless husband, the illustrious King Dasharatha, lotus-eyed and noble, will never break a promise he has made, O queen." Sumantra continued, "Let Rama, the eldest son—generous, accomplished, and protector of his duty and all living beings—be consecrated as king. If Rama is sent to the forest, abandoning his royal father, a great reproach will spread about you in the world, O queen. Let Raghava protect the kingdom and you will be free from distress, for truly, none but Raghava is fit to dwell in this noble city." Thus, Sumantra spoke both gently and sternly, striving once more to move Kaikeyi’s heart in the assembly. Yet Kaikeyi remained unmoved; no agitation, distress, or even a change of color was seen on her face. As these events unfolded, the narrative of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa, entered its thirty-sixth chapter. King Dasharatha, the scion of the Ikshvaku line, was tormented by the promise he had made. Tears streaming from his eyes and sighs wracking his body, he spoke again to Sumantra: "O charioteer, quickly prepare the army, adorned with jewels and all four divisions, to accompany Raghava. Let women of beauty, eloquent speakers, and wealthy merchants adorn the prince’s well-arranged troops. And those who are devoted to him, those who share in his strength—after bestowing upon them many gifts, assign them to remain here as well. Let the chief weapons, the townspeople, the carts, and the hunters skilled in the forest follow Kakutstha. While killing deer and elephants, drinking wild honey, and seeing the many rivers, perhaps he will not remember the kingdom." The king’s voice was heavy with sorrow as he continued, "Whatever store of grain or treasury is mine, let both follow Rama into the lonely forest. Performing sacrifices at holy places, giving abundant gifts, and meeting with sages, he will live happily in the forest. And mighty-armed Bharata will rule Ayodhya; may all desires be fulfilled for the illustrious Rama once again." But as Kaikeyi heard these words spoken about Kakutstha, fear gripped her. Her face grew dry, her voice choked. Distressed and frightened, she turned toward the king, her face parched, and spoke: "Bharata will not desire a kingdom stripped of wealth, empty and devoid of enjoyment, like liquor from which the spirit has departed." Having cast aside all shame, Kaikeyi spoke these harsh words, and King Dasharatha, his eyes wide as lotus petals, addressed her in grief: "Why do you strike me as I bear this heavy yoke? Having set me to this grievous task, why did you not restrain me before this deed was begun, O unworthy woman?" Hearing the king’s words, spoken in anger, Kaikeyi became doubly enraged and replied, "In your own lineage, Sagara banished his eldest son, Asamañja; so too should this one depart." At this, King Dasharatha, overwhelmed with sorrow and shame, replied, "Shame on you!" All the people in the assembly felt ashamed, but Kaikeyi remained unmoved. Then, an aged and pure-hearted minister named Siddhartha, esteemed greatly by the king, addressed Kaikeyi. "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.' The king asked them, 'For what reason is this fear?' And the citizens replied, 'While playing, he throws our children, whose minds are still unsteady, into the Sarayū out of folly, and takes great delight in it.'" Siddhartha continued, "Hearing the words of the citizens, the king abandoned his own son, who had done harm, in order to please them. He swiftly placed him, with his wife and attendants, upon a chariot, and exiled him for life, commanding, 'Let him live in banishment as long as he lives.' Taking a spade and basket, Asamañja wandered through mountain fastnesses, roaming all directions, as if he were one who had committed a wicked deed. Thus did King Sagara, most righteous, not abandon dharma. But what sin has Rama committed, that he is thus obstructed?" "We do not see any fault in Raghava," Siddhartha declared. "For him, descent into hell is as unlikely as a stain on the moon. But, O Queen, if you see any fault in Raghava, speak it truly today; then let Rama be exiled. For to abandon one who is blameless and devoted to the righteous path would destroy even Indra's radiance, being opposed to dharma. Enough, O Queen, with Rāma's fortune being ruined by you; you must also guard yourself from public reproach, O auspicious one." Hearing Siddhartha’s words, the king, his voice weary and overcome by grief, spoke to Kaikeyi once more, his heart heavy with sorrow.