After offering his respects and taking leave of Rāma, the leader of the hermitage, accompanied by his community, departed from the dwelling. Rāma, in turn, walked with the sage and his followers for some distance, bowing deeply to the chief sage before returning, with their blessings and instructions, to his own blessed abode. Though the hermitage was now deserted by the sages, Rāghava did not leave it, not even for a moment, for the ascetics, steadfast in the ways of the seers, always gathered around him. Thus concludes the one hundred sixteenth sarga of the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa in the ancient and sacred Rāmāyaṇa composed by Vālmīki. When the ascetics had gone, Rāghava reflected deeply and, for many reasons, found that place no longer suitable for dwelling. He thought, “Here, Bharata saw me, along with my mothers and the people of the city. My mind, remembering them, grieves for them constantly. Moreover, because the great-souled Bharata had set up his camp here, the ground is much trampled, covered by the dung of horses and elephants.” Determined that it was best to move elsewhere, Rāghava set out, accompanied by Vaidehī and Lakṣmaṇa. The illustrious prince soon arrived at the hermitage of the sage Atri. There, he offered his respects, and the venerable Atri received him with the affection of a father for his son. Atri himself arranged all hospitality, honoring the guests and kindly comforting both Saumitri and the noble Sītā. The sage then addressed his aged wife, who had come to him, honoring and comforting her with gentle words, for he was a knower of righteousness and devoted to the welfare of all beings. Turning to Sītā, the eminent sage said, “O Vaidehī, receive Anasūyā, the highly fortunate ascetic who follows the path of righteousness.” He spoke to Rāma as well about Anasūyā, describing her devotion and virtue. He told them, “When the world was scorched for ten years by unending drought, she produced roots and fruits and caused the Ganges to flow. Endowed with fierce austerity and adorned with disciplines, she performed great penance for ten thousand years. Purified by vows and having removed obstacles, Anasūyā, for the sake of the gods, created a night lasting ten days. She is like a mother to you, O sinless one. Let Vaidehī approach this renowned woman, worthy of reverence by all beings, aged and always free from anger, known in the world as Anasūyā, whose fame is great through her deeds.” Having heard the sage’s words, Rāghava replied, “So be it,” and addressed Sītā with gentle encouragement: “Princess, you have heard what this sage has spoken. For your own welfare, quickly approach the ascetic.” Sītā, hearing Rāma’s words, which were for her good, approached the venerable wife, who was frail, wrinkled, aged, her hair pale with years, and whose body trembled like a banana plant in the wind. Without hesitation, Sītā, ever fortunate and devoted to her husband, greeted the blameless Anasūyā and stated her own name. With joined palms and a delighted heart, she inquired after the ascetic’s well-being. Seeing Sītā, the righteous and highly fortunate woman, Anasūyā spoke with kindness and joy: “By good fortune, you observe righteousness, O Sītā. You have abandoned your kinsfolk, honor, and prosperity to follow Rāma in the forest; by good fortune you accompany him. Whether he dwells in the city or the forest, whether he is wicked or virtuous, for those women whose husband is dear, their worlds are greatly elevated. Whether he is of bad conduct, driven by desire, or deprived of wealth, for women of noble nature, the husband is the highest deity. I do not see any relative superior to the husband, O Vaidehī; everywhere, he is suitable, like the inexhaustible fruit of austerity. “But ignoble women do not discern virtue or fault in their husband; their hearts speak only desire, and they wander, dependent on him. Such women, O Maithili, who fall under the sway of improper conduct, indeed incur disgrace and a fall from righteousness. But women like you, endowed with virtue and understanding the ways of the world, live according to their own nature, just as those who uphold righteousness. Therefore, you, steadfast in devotion and following the path of the faithful wives, be a companion to your husband in righteousness; from this you will attain both honor and virtue.” Thus ends the one hundred seventeenth sarga in the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa of the ancient and revered Rāmāyaṇa composed by Vālmīki. Hearing these words from Anasūyā, Vaidehī, free from envy, honored her counsel and began to speak gently: “It is no wonder, O noble lady, that you speak to me in this way; I too know that a husband is a woman’s highest reverence. Even if my husband were to lack good conduct, O noble one, still he must be served by me without deviation. How much more, then, should I serve him when he is virtuous, praiseworthy, compassionate, self-controlled, steadfast in love, righteous, and dear as a mother and father? “The way mighty Rāma behaves toward Kausalyā, he behaves in the same manner toward all the other royal women. Even toward women whom the king has seen only once, the hero, devoted to righteousness, acts with the respect due to a mother, setting aside pride. And as I came to this lonely and fearful forest, the great advice my mother-in-law gave me remains firmly in my heart. The words my mother spoke to me long ago at the time of my marriage, in the presence of fire, I have also kept in mind.