Many sacrifices performed by the Brahmins in this land remain incomplete, their fulfillment longing for your return, dear one. All beings here—whether moving or unmoving—are devoted to you; when they beseech you, show devotion in return to those who are devoted. The trees themselves, unable to follow you, have their roots torn and are swept by the wind; it is as if they cry out to you, lifted by the breeze. The birds too, silent in their trees, motionless in both food and movement, seem to beseech you as well, for you are compassionate to all beings. As the Brahmins called out for your return, darkness seemed to descend, blocking the path of Raghava. At that moment, Sumantra released the weary horses from the chariot, quickly turned them, and led them—bodies soaked with water—toward the darkness. Let the next chapter be heard. Then Raghava, having settled on the pleasant bank of the Tamasa river, looked at Sita and spoke these words to Saumitri, his brother Lakshmana. “This is our first night, Saumitri, sent into the forest. May your dwelling here be auspicious, and do not let your heart be troubled. See how the forests all around lie empty, as if they are weeping, with the animals and birds withdrawn into their shelters. “Today, surely, the city of Ayodhya—my father’s royal capital—will 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 for you and for me, O tiger among men, and likewise for Shatrughna and Bharata. I grieve for my father and my noble mother; may they not become blind from weeping for us so often. “Yet Bharata, who is 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 help protect Vaidehi. “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 also addressed Sumantra: “Be ever vigilant with the horses, 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. Seeing that bed on the bank of the Tamasa, covered with leaves, Rama lay down there with Sita and Saumitri. When Rama, weary, lay down with his wife and fell asleep, Lakshmana began to recount Rama’s many virtues to the charioteer. As Saumitri stayed awake through that night, the sun rose, while he spoke to the charioteer of Rama’s virtues on the bank of the Tamasa. On the distant bank of the Tamasa, crowded with herds of cattle, Rama spent that night there with his companions. Rising up, the illustrious Rama, seeing his companions, spoke to his brother Lakshmana, who bore auspicious marks. “O Saumitri, see now those citizens who, disregarding their own households, have attached themselves beneath the trees, caring only for us. Just as these townspeople observe their vow in not turning back from us, so too, they would sooner give up their lives than abandon their resolve. “Only while they are still asleep can we swiftly ascend the chariot and travel the path without fear. Let the devoted citizens of Ikshvaku’s city not continue to sleep now, seeking shelter beneath the trees. Indeed, the townspeople must be freed from the sorrow caused by their own actions by the princes, but they should not be made to suffer further by us.” Lakshmana then spoke to Rama, standing there like righteousness itself: “I agree, wise one; let us quickly ascend the chariot.” Then Rama said to the charioteer, “Quickly yoke the chariot; I will go to the forest. Drive swiftly from here, O Sumantra.” The charioteer, hastening, yoked the chariot with those excellent horses, and with joined palms, reported to Rama, “Here is your chariot, mighty-armed prince, best among warriors, yoked and ready. Ascend quickly, with Sita and Lakshmana. May all be well with you.” Mounting the chariot with his attendants, Raghava crossed the Tamasa river, swift-flowing and swirling, together with Sita and Lakshmana. Having crossed, the illustrious, mighty-armed one reached the great, safe road, free from thorns—a road fearful only to those who fear. Then, to mislead the citizens, Rama spoke to the charioteer: “Turn the chariot northward, O charioteer, and proceed. After driving swiftly for a while, turn the chariot back again, so that the citizens may not know my path; do this with care.” Hearing Rama’s words, the charioteer did so, and returning, reported the chariot to Rama. Then those two scions of Raghu, with Sita, mounted the yoked chariot, and the charioteer urged the horses along the path to the hermitage.