Weeping in their sorrow, the women approached the noble and wise Kausalya, who herself was overcome with grief. As tears streamed down her face, Kausalya, deeply afflicted, spoke bitterly to Bharata: “The kingdom you desired has now come to you, unobstructed. Indeed, by her cruel deed, Kaikeyi has quickly secured it for you. But what virtue does Kaikeyi, with her hard heart, see in sending my son, clad in bark garments, away to dwell in the forest? Soon, I am certain, Kaikeyi will send me also to where my illustrious son, shining like gold, now abides. Or perhaps, accompanied by Sumitra, I myself will gladly go there, first performing the sacred fire-rite, to join Raghava. Or, if you wish, you may take me there today, to the place where that tiger among men, my son, endures his penance. Truly, this vast kingdom, filled with wealth and grain, complete with elephants, horses, and chariots, has been handed over to you by her.” With many such harsh words, Kausalya reproached Bharata, though he was blameless. Her words pierced him deeply, as if a sharp needle wounded an open sore. Agitated and overwhelmed, Bharata fell at her feet, lamenting in many ways. He lost consciousness, and when he regained his senses, he stood before her, hands joined in humility. As Kausalya continued to lament, Bharata, surrounded by grief, addressed her with folded hands: “Respected lady, why do you reproach me, who am innocent and unaware? You know well the depth and steadfastness of my affection for Raghava. May my mind, which follows the path of righteousness, never turn away from him—he who is truthful, the best among the virtuous, and beloved by you. “Let the most sinful servant be sent forth, let him defile the sun, or strike a sleeping cow with his foot—such is the fate of one who acts with your consent. If a master, having made his servant perform great deeds, then renders him useless, that is unrighteousness—such is the fate of one who acts with your consent. If, while protecting his subjects like his own children, a king is betrayed, let sin befall the one who acts with your consent. If, after collecting the lawful share of taxes, a king fails to protect his people, may the sin of such a one fall upon him who acts with your consent. And having promised gifts to ascetics at a sacrifice, may he who has gained the noble one’s consent deceitfully withhold that reward. In battle, crowded with elephants, horses, and chariots, where weapons abound, may he who has gained the noble one’s consent not uphold the righteous conduct of the virtuous. Let the subtle meaning of the scriptures, carefully taught by a wise man, be destroyed by the wicked-minded one who has gained the noble one’s consent. “May he never see one with arms adorned, shining like the moon and sun, seated in royal splendor—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Let him, pitiless, eat rice cooked in milk and gruel in vain, and even scorn his elders—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Let him touch cows with his foot, slander his elders himself, and utterly betray his friend—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Let him, wicked-minded, reveal in public some confidential reproach spoken in trust—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Let him be inactive, ungrateful, self-abandoned, shameless, and hated by all in the world—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Surrounded by sons, wives, and servants in his own house, let him eat fine food alone—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Let him, failing to obtain a suitable wife, die childless, and not accomplish righteous acts—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Let him see his own lineage perish, be distressed in his wives, and not attain a full lifespan—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Let him incur the sin declared for killing a king, a woman, a child, or an elder, and for abandoning a servant—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. “Let him always support servants with lac, honey, meat, iron, and poison—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. When battle is joined and he causes fear among the enemy’s ranks, let him be slain as he flees—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Let him, with a skull in hand, wander the earth clad in rags, begging like a madman—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Let him become addicted to drink, to women, and to gambling always, overcome by desire and anger—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Let his mind turn to righteousness, yet let him practice unrighteousness; let him give in charity to the unworthy—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Let the wealth he has gathered in many forms, by the thousands, be plundered by robbers—he who has gained the noble one’s consent. Whatever sin is ascribed to one who sleeps through both twilights, may that sin fall upon the one by whose consent the noble one has departed. May he incur the sin that comes from neglecting the sacred fire, from violating the teacher’s bed, and from betraying a friend. May he never serve the gods, ancestors, mother, or father—the one by whose consent the noble one has departed. May he swiftly fall today itself from the world of the virtuous, from their fame, and from righteous deeds—the one by whose consent the noble one has departed. Let him abandon service to his mother and stand for no purpose—the long-armed, broad-chested one by whose consent the noble one has departed. May he, though having many sons, be poor and afflicted with fever and disease, always suffering—the one by whose consent the noble one has departed.” Thus, Bharata poured out his anguish, swearing his innocence and loyalty, and invoking every curse upon himself if he were truly the cause of Rama’s exile.