Sumantra, the wise charioteer, was deeply troubled as he reflected on the suffering that had befallen the royal household. He thought to himself how truly difficult life could be, especially for Kausalya, who still lived on despite her beloved son’s departure. The grief that filled the palace was almost unbearable. Moved by the sorrowful words of the king’s wives, who spoke with honest anguish, Sumantra entered the royal residence abruptly, as if consumed by the fire of his own grief. He made his way to the eighth chamber and there beheld King Dasharatha, the great ruler of men, sitting pale and forlorn, his spirit drained by the pain of separation from Rama. With reverence, Sumantra approached the king and bowed before him, then carefully delivered Rama’s message exactly as the prince had instructed. But as the king listened, he was struck mute by overwhelming sorrow. His mind, already disturbed by the loss of Rama, could not bear the weight of this fresh reminder; he fainted and collapsed to the floor. As the lord of the earth lay unconscious, a wave of panic swept through the inner palace. The women raised their arms and cried out in despair at the sight of their fallen king. Kausalya and Sumitra, their hearts heavy with grief, hurried to lift their stricken husband. Kausalya, her voice trembling, pleaded with him: “Why do you not speak to this messenger, who has come from the forest, having accomplished such a difficult task? Having committed this injustice, are you now ashamed, O Raghava? Rise—let your virtue remain, for grief brings no help. O lord, out of fear of whom do you refrain from asking the charioteer about Rama? Kaikeyi is not here. Speak freely.” Having spoken thus to her husband, Kausalya was overcome by her sorrow and fell to the ground herself, her words choked by tears. The sight of Kausalya collapsed in grief, and their husband lying unconscious, moved all the women of the palace to loud lamentation. The sound of their weeping rose through the inner chambers, and soon elders, youth, and all the women throughout the city joined in mourning. Once more, Ayodhya was thrown into turmoil. When the king at last regained his senses and recovered from his confusion, he summoned Sumantra, eager to learn of Rama’s condition. Sumantra, hands joined in reverence and his heart heavy with sorrow, approached the aged king. Dasharatha looked upon the charioteer, whose limbs were covered in dust and whose face was streaked with tears, and spoke to him in utter anguish: “Where will my righteous son dwell, now that he has taken shelter at the root of a tree? That exceedingly fortunate Raghava—what will he eat, charioteer? Unaccustomed to hardship, accustomed to a comfortable bed—how does my son, Sumantra, sleep on the ground like one without support? He whom foot soldiers, chariots, and elephants once followed—how will Rama live alone in the wild forest? In a place frequented by beasts and deer, inhabited by black serpents—how have the two princes and the daughter of Videha arrived there? With gentle, ascetic Sita beside them, how did my sons descend from the chariot and walk into the forest on foot? You are truly accomplished, charioteer, for you have seen my two sons enter the depths of the woods, like the Ashvins entering Mandara. Tell me, what words did Rama speak? What did Lakshmana say? What did Maithili utter, Sumantra, upon reaching the forest? Speak to me of Rama’s sitting, lying, and eating; by this, I shall find the will to live, just as Yayati did among the virtuous.” Thus urged by the grieving king, Sumantra gathered himself and began to answer, his words heavy with tears: “O great king, your son Rama, ever devoted to righteousness, bowed his head in reverence and spoke to me: ‘Charioteer, by my words, convey my respects to my father, who is worthy of all honor. Let the entire inner palace be addressed by my words; let health be wished for all, and proper salutations offered. Greet my mother Kausalya, and urge her to remain vigilant. Tell her: Always uphold righteousness and tend to the sacred fire at the right time. O lady, guard the feet of your lord as you would those of a god. Abandon pride and arrogance, and treat the mothers with proper respect. Honor Queen Kaikeyi as you would your own mother. Treat Prince Bharata as you would a king, for kings are foremost in wealth—remember your royal duty. Convey my greetings to Bharata as well, and urge him to act properly toward the mothers. Let the mighty-armed delight of the Ikshvaku line be addressed; while your father holds the royal power, preserve the kingdom. The king, advanced in years, has said: ‘Do not hinder Bharata from ruling the kingdom as prince; live on, and carry out only his commands.’ Again, with tears, he told me: ‘You must see my mother, who longs for her son, as you would your own mother.’ While Rama was speaking thus to me, his eyes red like lotus petals, he wept intensely. But Lakshmana, burning with anger, sighed and said: ‘For what offense has the prince been exiled?’” In this way, Sumantra faithfully recounted all that had passed, bringing the words and sorrows of Rama and Lakshmana to the heartbroken king and his grieving household.