Lakshmana, his heart stirred by suspicion and concern, looked toward the approaching caravan and spoke anxiously to Rama. “Bharata, son of Kaikeyi, desiring to secure the kingdom and now surely consecrated, is coming to kill us both,” he said. He pointed to a great, splendid tree standing out in the landscape, and noted the chariot’s banner, which bore the symbol of the kōvidāra tree, shining in the distance. He observed the men mounted on swift horses, moving as they pleased, and others delighting as they rode upon elephants, their presence shining in the morning sun. “Let us, O hero, take our bows and seek refuge on the mountain, or else stand our ground here, armed and ready,” Lakshmana urged. “Perhaps the one with the kōvidāra banner may fall into our power.” Lakshmana’s mind raced with thoughts of Bharata, whose actions had led them into this great misfortune. “Will I see Bharata, on whose account you, Sita, and I have all encountered this suffering? For the sake of which you have been cast out from the eternal kingdom, this enemy Bharata has now arrived; for me, he is to be slain. I see no fault, O Raghava, in killing Bharata, for abandoning those who have previously committed wrongs is not considered unrighteous.” His anger rising, Lakshmana declared, “Bharata, who has previously done wrong and abandoned righteousness, O Raghava—once he is slain, rule the entire earth. Today, let Kaikeyi, greedy for the kingdom, see her son slain in battle by me, and be tormented with grief, like a tree shattered by an elephant. I will kill Kaikeyi as well, along with her associates and relatives; let the earth be freed today from this great impurity. Today, O giver of honor, I will release this restrained anger and the insult upon the enemy’s army, as fire is released in dry grass. Today, I will make this forest of Chitrakuta soaked in blood, piercing the bodies of enemies with sharp arrows. Let wild beasts drag away elephants and horses whose hearts have been pierced by arrows, as well as men slain by me. I am not indebted to arrows or the bow in this great battle; after killing Bharata along with his army, I will be without doubt.” Thus ended the ninety-sixth sarga in the glorious Ayodhya Kanda of the venerable Ramayana, the first epic composed by Valmiki. But Rama, seeing Lakshmana fiercely enraged and overcome by anger, gently calmed him and spoke. “What need is there here for the bow, or the sword with shield, when Bharata himself, the great archer and wise one, has come? Having killed Bharata, who has come after pledging truth to our father, what would I do with the kingdom, tainted by blame, O Lakshmana? Whatever wealth might come from the destruction of relatives or friends, I would not accept it, as one would not eat food mixed with poison.” Rama continued, “O Lakshmana, I desire righteousness, wealth, pleasure, and even the earth, for your sake; I promise you this. For the sake of gathering brothers and for happiness, O Lakshmana, I desire even the kingdom, and I swear this to you by truth. This earth, O gentle one, surrounded by the ocean, is not difficult for me to obtain; but I would not desire even the lordship of the gods through unrighteousness, O Lakshmana. If any happiness should come to me without Bharata, you, or even Shatrughna, O giver of honor, let that happiness be reduced to ashes by fire.” He reflected, “I think Bharata, who cherishes his brothers, has come to Ayodhya, remembering the family duty, dearer to me than my own life. Hearing that I have been exiled, wearing matted hair and bark garments, together with Janaki and you, O best of men—his heart overcome by affection, his senses disturbed by grief, Bharata has surely come here to see me; it cannot be otherwise. Having spoken harsh and unpleasant words, angry with mother Kaikeyi, the illustrious one has come, having appeased our father, to give me the kingdom.” Rama’s voice was gentle and filled with trust. “It is the right time that Bharata wishes to see us; he would not do anything displeasing to us, not even in thought. When, indeed, has Bharata ever done you any wrong in the past, or what kind of fear is it today that makes you suspect Bharata here? Bharata should not be spoken to harshly or with unpleasant words by you; if anything disagreeable is said to Bharata, let it be said by me. How could sons ever kill their father in any calamity, or a brother kill his brother, O Saumitri, who is as dear as one’s own life?” “If you speak these words because of the kingdom, then, upon seeing Bharata, I will tell him: ‘Let the kingdom be given to him.’ Even if I say this truly to Bharata, O Lakshmana, ‘Let the kingdom be given to him,’ he will certainly reply, ‘So be it.’” Thus addressed by his righteous brother, intent on his welfare, Lakshmana, out of shame, seemed to shrink into his own limbs. Hearing those words, Lakshmana, abashed, replied, “I think it is our father, Dasharatha himself, who has come to see you.” Seeing Lakshmana embarrassed, Rama responded, “I think this mighty-armed one has come here to see us.” He mused further, “Or perhaps, thinking that we, accustomed to comfort, are not suited for the forest, he will certainly take us back home. Or perhaps my illustrious father, Raghava, will take Vaidehi, who is accustomed to utmost comfort, from the forest and return.” As they spoke, Rama pointed out, “Those two splendid, well-bred, and delightful horses are visible, O hero, swift as the wind, the best of fast steeds.