King Daśaratha, tormented by the difficult circumstances imposed upon him, turned to his charioteer and commanded, “Quickly prepare the army, filled with jewels and all four divisions, to accompany Rāghava. Let the women who make their living by their beauty, the eloquent speakers, and the wealthy merchants adorn the well-arranged troops of the prince. And those who depend on him, and those strong companions with whom he delights—after giving them many kinds of gifts, assign them here as well. Let the chief weapons, the townspeople, the carts, and the hunters skilled in the forest follow Kakutstha. By hunting deer and elephants, drinking wild honey, and seeing various rivers, he will not remember the kingdom. Whatever store of grain or treasury is mine, 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.” But as Kaikeyī heard herself speak thus about Rāma, fear gripped her heart; her face dried up and her voice became choked. Distressed and frightened, with her face parched, Kaikeyī turned toward the king and said, “Bharata will not desire a kingdom deprived of wealth, empty and devoid of any enjoyment, like liquor with its spirit gone.” Having cast off all shame, Kaikeyī spoke these harsh words. King Daśaratha, his eyes full of pain, addressed her, whose eyes were wide as lotus petals: “Why do you strike me as I bear this heavy yoke, having set me to this grievous task? Unworthy woman, why did you not restrain me before this deed was begun?” Kaikeyī, hearing the king’s words spoken in anger, became doubly enraged and replied, “In your own lineage, Sagara banished his eldest son, known as Asamañja; so too should this one depart.” Shamed by her words, King Daśaratha replied, while all the people around felt the sting of disgrace, though Kaikeyī herself did not understand it. Then an aged minister, Siddhārtha—pure and highly esteemed by the king—spoke 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.’ The king asked them, ‘For what reason is this fear?’ And when questioned, 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.’ Hearing the words of the citizens, the king abandoned his own son, who had done no harm, to please them. He swiftly placed him, with his wife and attendants, upon a chariot and exiled him for life, as his father commanded, ‘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 the path of dharma. What sin did Rāma commit, that he is thus obstructed? “We do not see any 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 it truly today; then Rāma shall 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 Siddhārtha’s words, the king, his voice weary and overcome by grief, spoke to Kaikeyī: “You do not wish to heed these words, which are for your own good, though they appear harsh; you do not know what is beneficial for me or yourself. Having taken to a cruel path, your conduct has strayed from the way of the good. 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, as the next chapter began, Rāma, hearing the words of the chief minister, addressed Daśaratha with humility and respect: “O King, since I have renounced 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, sets his mind on the enclosure, what use is the bond of a rope to him, when he has already let go of the noble elephant? So, O best of the virtuous, what use have I for an army, O lord of the world? I permit all to return; let them bring me only garments of bark. And bring both the spade and basket as I go, for I must dwell in the forest for fourteen years.” Then, shameless before the assembled people, Kaikeyī herself brought the garments of bark to Rāghava and said, “Put these on.” That tiger among men, accepting the garments of bark from Kaikeyī, set aside his fine cloth and donned the ascetic’s attire, preparing to fulfill his father’s command.