In the royal assembly, Sumantra, with joined palms, addressed Queen Kaikeyī once more. He spoke both gentle and harsh words, earnestly trying to move her heart. Yet, Kaikeyī remained unmoved. There was no sign of distress or agitation within her; not even the color of her face changed. Now begins the thirty-sixth chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa. King Daśaratha, a descendant of the Ikshvaku line, was tormented by the promise he had made. Tears filled his eyes and he sighed deeply as he spoke again to Sumantra: “O charioteer, quickly ready the army, adorned with jewels and all four divisions, to accompany Rāghava. Let eloquent courtesans, women famed for their beauty, and wealthy merchants embellish the prince’s well-ordered troops. Those who depend on Rāma, and those who delight him with their strength, should be rewarded with many gifts and assigned to him as well. Let the chief weapons, the townspeople, the carts, and even the forest-hunters skilled in their craft, all follow Kakutstha. “In the forest, with deer and elephants to hunt, wild honey to drink, and many rivers to behold, perhaps he will not remember the kingdom he leaves behind. All my stores of grain and treasure—let them go with Rāma as he dwells in the lonely forest. There, performing sacrifices at holy places, giving generous gifts, and meeting with sages, may he live happily. Mighty-armed Bharata will rule Ayodhyā, and in time, may all desires be fulfilled for the illustrious Rāma once more.” As Kaikeyī heard the king speak thus about Kakutstha, fear crept into her heart. Her face dried up and her voice became choked. Distressed and frightened, she turned to the king and said, “Bharata will not desire a kingdom stripped of wealth, empty and devoid of enjoyment, like liquor with its spirit gone.” Having cast aside all shame, Kaikeyī spoke these harsh words. King Daśaratha, his eyes wide as lotus petals, addressed her: “Why do you strike me down as I bear this heavy yoke? Why, unworthy woman, did you not restrain me before I began this grievous task?” Angered by his words, Kaikeyī, doubly enraged, replied, “In your own lineage, Sagara banished his eldest son, Asamañja. So too should this one depart.” Thus shamed by her words, King Daśaratha answered. All the people present felt ashamed, but Kaikeyī did not perceive it. Then an aged minister, Siddhārtha—pure and highly esteemed by the king—spoke to Kaikeyī: “Asamañja, while playing in the streets, would seize children and, casting them into the waters of the Sarayū, found pleasure in this wickedness. Angered, the townspeople spoke to King Sagara, ‘O increaser of the realm, choose either Asamañja or us.’ The king asked them, ‘What is the cause of this fear?’ The citizens replied, ‘While playing, he throws our children—whose minds are still unsteady—into the Sarayū out of folly, and takes delight in it.’ “Hearing this, King Sagara, to please his people, abandoned his own son, though he had done no harm. He swiftly placed Asamañja, with his wife and attendants, upon a chariot and exiled him for life, commanding, ‘Let him live in banishment as long as he lives.’ With a spade and basket, Asamañja wandered through the mountains and forests, as if he had committed a great sin. “Thus did righteous King Sagara not abandon his duty. But what sin has Rāma committed, that he should be obstructed in this way? We see no fault in Rāghava. For him, descent into hell is as unlikely as a stain on the moon. But, O Queen, if you see any fault in Rāghava, speak truly today; then Rāma shall be exiled. For to abandon one who is blameless and devoted to righteousness would destroy even Indra’s radiance, being contrary to dharma. Enough, O Queen, with ruining Rāma’s fortune; you must also guard yourself from public reproach, O auspicious one.” Hearing Siddhārtha’s words, the king, his voice weary and choked with grief, spoke to Kaikeyī: “You do not wish to heed these words, though they are for your own good, even if they sound harsh. You do not know what is beneficial for me or for yourself. Having chosen a cruel path, your conduct has strayed from the way of the virtuous. Today I will follow Rāma, renouncing the kingdom, comfort, and wealth. You and Bharata, with all the king’s people, may enjoy the kingdom as you wish for a long time.” Now begins the thirty-seventh chapter of the Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa. Hearing the chief minister’s words, Rāma humbly addressed Daśaratha: “O King, since I have renounced all pleasures and will live in the forest on forest fare, what need is there for an escort, when I have abandoned all attachments? For one who, after giving away an excellent elephant, still sets his mind on the enclosure, what use is the bond of a rope when he has already let go of the noble elephant?