Rāma, ever mindful of dharma, was addressed with deep concern and affection: “O Rāghava, do you support the aged, the young, and the foremost physicians, offering them gifts, kind thoughts, and gentle words, employing all means to care for them? Do you show due reverence to teachers, elders, ascetics, deities, guests, all sacred shrines, those accomplished in their fields, and to the Brāhmaṇas? Do you use your wealth to uphold righteousness, and in turn, use righteousness to safeguard your wealth, never harming either for the sake of pleasure or out of greed?” The inquiry continued with warmth and gravity. “O best among the victorious, do you serve wealth, righteousness, and pleasure, dividing your attention among them wisely according to the proper time? Do the Brāhmaṇas, learned in all the scriptures, wish you well, along with the citizens of the city and the people of the countryside? Do you avoid atheism, falsehood, anger, carelessness, procrastination, disregard for the wise, laziness, and a fickle mind? Do you refrain from making decisions alone, from consulting only the inexperienced, from failing to act once you have resolved, and from neglecting to protect confidential counsel?” The questions touched on the responsibilities of a ruler. “Do you avoid the fourteen royal faults, such as neglecting auspicious acts and failing to rise to occasions? O Rāghava, do you truly understand the various groups and categories essential to kingship—the ten, five, four, seven, eight, and three groups, as well as the three branches of knowledge? Having mastered your senses, do you know the sixfold policy, the divine and human factors, the twenty types of duties, and the circle of subjects? Do you, O greatly wise one, properly approve of military expeditions, punishment, the two kinds of birth, alliances, and hostilities? Do you consult with your ministers as prescribed, sometimes with four, sometimes with three, or with all together or separately?” The speaker’s voice softened. “Are your studies of the Vedas fruitful? Are your rituals fruitful? Are your marriages fruitful? Is your learning fruitful? Is your understanding, O Rāghava, as I have described—conducive to long life, fame, and the pursuit of righteousness, desire, and wealth? Do you follow the conduct that your father and our ancestors observed, the path that leads to righteousness and good? Do you, O Rāghava, avoid eating delicious food alone, and do you share it with friends who desire it?” And then, the wisdom of the ages was spoken: “The wise king, having ruled his people with justice and upheld the law, having rightfully attained the entire earth, departs to heaven when his time comes.” Thus ended the hundredth sarga of the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa in the ancient and revered Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. Upon hearing these words, Bharata replied to Rāma with sorrow and conviction: “What use is kingship to me, deprived as I am of righteousness? This is our eternal law, O best of men: when the eldest son is present, the younger cannot become king. Go with me, Rāghava, to prosperous Ayodhyā and be consecrated for the good of our lineage. People may call a king a mere mortal, but to me, he is divine when his conduct is guided by righteousness and wealth, though he is human. While I remained in Kekaya and you went to the forest, our noble father, esteemed among the virtuous, ascended to heaven. As soon as you and Lakṣmaṇa departed, the king, overwhelmed by grief and sorrow, left this world for the next. Arise, O tiger among men, and perform the water-rite for our father; I and Śatrughna have already offered water before you. It is said that water offered with love to the ancestors becomes imperishable in their world; and you, Rāghava, are dear to our father. He grieved only for you, longing to see you, his mind fixed on you alone; deprived of you, sick with sorrow for you, remembering you, our father passed away.” Thus ended the one hundred and first sarga. Hearing Bharata’s sorrowful speech, which told of his father’s death, Rāma was overcome with grief and lost consciousness. Bharata’s words fell upon Rāma like a thunderbolt hurled by Indra himself, striking down the mighty prince. Grasping his arms, Rāma collapsed to the ground, like a blossoming tree felled in the forest by an axe. There he lay, the lord of the world, like a great elephant exhausted on the riverbank, fast asleep. His brothers, all great archers, together with Sītā, wept in grief and sprinkled water on him. Slowly, Rāma regained consciousness; tears streamed from his eyes as the son of Kakutstha began to speak many pitiful words. Hearing that his father, lord of the earth, had passed away, Rāma, ever righteous, spoke to Bharata in accordance with dharma. “Now that my father has gone to the destined path, what shall I do in Ayodhyā? Who will govern Ayodhyā, which depended on that foremost of kings? What duty remains for me, who am of difficult birth, toward that great-souled one who died from grief over me, and for whom I could not even perform the funeral rites? Ah, Bharata, you are truly fortunate, for the king was duly honored in all the funeral rites by you, blameless one, and by Śatrughna. Even after completing my forest exile, I do not have the heart to return to Ayodhyā, which, deprived of its sovereign, has become leaderless and distracted. O subduer of foes, even if I complete my exile, who will rule Ayodhyā again now that my father has departed to the other world?” Thus ended the one hundred and second sarga in the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa of the ancient and revered Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa.