With deep resolve, Lakṣmaṇa addressed Rāma, his voice steady and full of reverence. “O subduer of foes,” he said, “it is not right for me to disregard our father’s command. That father, Daśaratha, is always to be honored by you as well; he is our kinsman, he is our father. Therefore, Rāghava, I shall uphold the word of our father, who walks in righteousness, by dwelling in the forest, as he has decreed. A man who seeks the next world must act with intelligence, compassion, and obedience to elders, O tiger among men. You too, best of men, should conduct yourself according to your own nature, keeping in mind the virtuous conduct of our father, Daśaratha.” Having thus spoken these meaningful words, Lakṣmaṇa, intent on obeying his father’s command, fell silent, and great Rāma, lordly and wise, ceased addressing his younger brother after a moment. Thus ended that sarga in the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa of the ancient and illustrious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. When Rāma’s words faded into silence, Bharata, devoted to righteousness, addressed his beloved elder brother by the banks of the Mandākinī, his words remarkable and righteous. “Who in this world could be like you, O subduer of foes? Neither sorrow unsettles you, nor does joy elate you. You are esteemed by elders, and you consult them whenever you are in doubt. One who, whether living or dead, whether present or absent, possesses such discernment—why would he be troubled by anything? He who knows both higher and lower truths, as you do, O lord of men, should not grieve even in the face of such misfortune. You possess a nature like the immortals, great-souled and steadfast in truth; you are all-knowing, all-seeing, and wise, O Rāghava. One endowed with such qualities as yours, who knows the nature of creation and dissolution, should not be afflicted by unbearable sorrow. “Whatever wrong my mother, base and wicked, committed on my account while I was away—may you, noble one, forgive that offense of mine. Bound by the ties of righteousness, I do not inflict severe punishment on this mother of mine, though she deserves it for her evil deed. How could I, born of Daśaratha—pure in lineage and deeds—knowing what is right, ever perform a deed that is unrighteous and to be despised? The teacher, the one who acts, the elder, the king, and the deceased father—these, in the assembly, I would not reproach, nor the divine powers. For who, wishing to please a woman, would perform such a sinful act, lacking in righteousness and purpose, if he truly knows and understands dharma? “It is said from ancient times that beings become confused at the end of their lives; by the king acting thus in the world, that tradition has been made manifest before our eyes. Whatever my father transgressed, driven by anger, delusion, or rashness, let you, aiming for what is right, now withdraw that act. Because it causes the father’s downfall, that very act is regarded as belonging to the son. Let you be the true son, and do not become the perpetrator of your father’s wrongdoing; in the world, the wise do not approve of one who follows through with a wrongful deed. “Protect Kaikeyi, me, our father, our friends and relatives, and all the people of the city and countryside—let you safeguard all of this. What connection is there between the forest and the warrior class, between matted locks and ruling? You ought not to perform such a disrupted act. For the first and foremost duty of a kshatriya is consecration, by which, O greatly wise one, the protection of the people can be accomplished. Who, abandoning what is certain and present, would pursue a doubtful, uncertain, and future dharma, being a kshatriya or his kin? But if you wish to practice a dharma that is difficult and full of hardship, then, by upholding dharma, protect the four varnas and accept that hardship. For among the four stages of life, householdership is declared by the knowers of dharma to be the highest; how could you rightly abandon that? “By learning, by position, and by birth, I am indeed your junior; so how could I govern the land while you remain? I am a child, lacking in intellect and qualities, and inferior in position; deprived of you, I am unable to maintain the kingdom. Rule this entire, undisturbed, ancestral kingdom, free from thorns, in accordance with your own dharma, O knower of dharma, together with your kinsmen. Let all the ministers, along with the priests and Vasiṣṭha, skilled in mantras, anoint you as king right here. Once you are consecrated by us, go forth to govern Ayodhyā, having conquered the worlds with your might, like Indra with the Maruts. “By repaying the three debts, burning away the wicked, gratifying friends with desires, you alone should rule over me here. Today, may your true friends rejoice at your consecration, and may your ill-wishers, filled with fear, flee in all ten directions. Wipe away the reproach upon my mother and myself, O best of men, and today protect our father there from sin. With my head bowed, I beg you: show compassion to me and to all our relatives, as the great Lord does to all beings. But if, having set this aside, you still choose to go to the forest, then I too will go with you.” Thus, though Bharata, tormented, pleaded with him, bowing his head in humility, steadfast Rāma did not resolve to return, remaining firm in his father’s command. Seeing such wondrous steadfastness in Rāghava, the people, though sorrowful that he would not return to Ayodhyā, felt joy at his unwavering resolve.