Though still young, Rama possessed a wisdom beyond his years, gentle in nature yet heroic in spirit. He was a source of courage and comfort, destined to be a worthy lord for the people, dispelling their fears. Endowed with royal qualities and chosen as heir-apparent, Rama was to be obeyed, just as the elders and traditions instructed, and all were urged to follow his commands. Rama counseled that, just as King Dasaratha should not grieve when Rama departed for the forest, so too, out of respect for him, everyone must act for Rama’s happiness. The more Dasaratha upheld righteousness, the more the people longed for Rama to be their leader. As Rama prepared to leave, his eyes filled with tears, and together with Saumitri (Lakshmana), his virtues seemed to draw the townspeople toward him, as if they were bound to him by invisible ties. Then, the elders among the twice-born, those advanced in wisdom, age, and vigor, their heads trembling with age, spoke from afar to Rama. “O swift horses carrying Rama, turn back! You must not go further. It is for your own good and your master’s,” they called. All creatures, especially horses, are attentive to speech, so hearing their plea, the elders urged the horses to turn back. They pleaded that Rama, pure in spirit, righteous, heroic, and steadfast in his noble vow, should be brought back to the city by the horses, not carried away to the forest. Seeing these elders, distressed and uttering anguished words, Rama suddenly descended from the chariot. Then, with Sita and Lakshmana, he proceeded on foot, placing his steps close together, intent on entering the forest. Out of compassion, Rama, who cherished righteous conduct, could not leave the Brahmins behind by chariot. Watching Rama depart, the Brahmins, troubled and deeply afflicted, spoke to him: “All Brahminhood follows you, for you are devoted to Brahmins; even the sacred fires, carried on the shoulders of Brahmins, accompany you. See these umbrellas, born from Vājapeya sacrifices, following behind us like clouds after the rains. For you, scorched by the sun and lacking an umbrella, we will shade you with our own Vājapeya umbrellas.” They continued, “The resolve that always guided us according to Vedic mantras now follows you into the forest, dear one. The Vedas, which dwell in our hearts and are our greatest wealth, will remain in our homes, as will our wives, protected by virtue. There is no need for further deliberation about your departure; when you are devoted to righteousness, what remains for us who stand on the path of dharma?” With their heads bowed, hair white as swans, and their conduct humble, dusted by the earth, they beseeched Rama to return. Many sacrifices performed by Brahmins awaited completion, and their fulfillment depended on Rama’s return. All beings there, both moving and unmoving, were devoted; and they pleaded with Rama to show devotion to the devoted. Unable to follow Rama, their roots torn and driven by the wind, the trees seemed to cry out as they were lifted by the breeze. Birds, motionless in food and movement, fixed in their trees, also beseeched Rama, the compassionate to all beings. As the Brahmins cried out for his return, darkness appeared, seeming to block Raghava’s path. Sumantra, too, released the weary horses from the chariot, turned them quickly, and led them, their bodies soaked with water, near the darkness. Let the forty-sixth chapter be heard. Having settled on the pleasant bank of the Tamasā river, Raghava looked at Sita and spoke to Saumitri: “This is our first night, Saumitri, sent into the forest. May your forest dwelling be auspicious, and do not let your heart be troubled. See how the forests lie empty all around, as if they are weeping, with the animals and birds withdrawn into their shelters. Today, the city of Ayodhyā, my father’s royal capital, will surely grieve for us who have departed, with its men and women—there is no doubt. The people, deeply devoted to the king for his many virtues, will also mourn you, me, O tiger among men, and likewise Śatrughna and Bharata. I grieve for my father and my noble mother; may they not become blind from weeping for us so often. Yet Bharata, righteous at heart, will comfort my father and mother with words joined to duty, wealth, and desire. Reflecting again and again on Bharata’s compassion, O mighty-armed one, I do not grieve for my father or my mother. O tiger among men, you have fulfilled your duty by following me; now you must assist in protecting Vaidehī. Tonight, Saumitri, I will sleep here by the water; this pleases me, even though there are many kinds of forest dwellings.” Having spoken thus to Saumitri, Raghava addressed Sumantra: “Be ever vigilant with the horses, O gentle one.” Sumantra, restraining the horses as the sun set, gave them abundant fodder and remained close by. After performing the auspicious evening worship and seeing that night had come, the charioteer prepared Rama’s bed together with Saumitri. Thus, Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana spent their first night in the forest, watched over by Sumantra, as the city of Ayodhyā mourned their absence and the elders, Brahmins, and all creatures expressed their devotion and longing for Rama’s return.