As Sītā recounted her story, she described a wondrous moment when a voice, not of this world, resounded from the sky, declaring, “So it is, O king; by righteousness, she is your daughter.” Her father, the noble ruler of Mithilā, was filled with joy at this divine affirmation. Having gained Sītā as his own, he prospered greatly. Sītā recalled how she was entrusted to the care of a venerable goddess, a woman of virtue, who cherished her with deep affection and maternal kindness. As Sītā came of age, her father grew anxious, troubled by concerns of wealth and other hardships. In this world, he knew, the father of a maiden—no matter how mighty, even if he were Indra himself—suffers dishonor if his daughter is not properly wed. This looming dishonor weighed heavily upon the king, and he felt as helpless as a swimmer unable to reach the shore. Knowing that Sītā had not been born from a woman, the king searched in vain among the rulers for a suitable husband for her. After much reflection, the wise king resolved to arrange a svayaṃvara—a self-choice ceremony—for his daughter. During a great sacrifice, Varuṇa, the mighty lord of waters, bestowed upon the king a splendid bow and inexhaustible quivers. The bow was so massive and heavy that no man could move it, no matter how much effort he exerted; the assembled kings could not even dream of bending it. With truthfulness, the king proclaimed before all: “Whoever raises this bow and strings it shall have my daughter as his wife—there is no doubt.” The kings, beholding the bow as immense as a mountain, paid their respects and departed, unable to lift it. Time passed, until at last, Rāma, radiant among men, arrived at the sacrifice with the sage Viśvāmitra and his steadfast brother, Lakṣmaṇa. Viśvāmitra, honored by Sītā’s father, spoke of the two brothers, sons of Daśaratha, and requested the divine bow be shown to Rāma. Obedient to the sage, the king brought forth the bow. In a moment, Rāma, valiant and strong, bent the bow and, with swift strength, strung it. As he drew it with force, the bow broke in two with a thunderous sound that echoed like lightning from the heavens. True to his word, Sītā’s father resolved to give her to Rāma and raised the ceremonial vessel of water. Yet Rāma did not immediately accept, not knowing the wishes of his own father, King Daśaratha of Ayodhyā. After Daśaratha was addressed and gave his consent, Sītā’s father joyfully gave her to Rāma, who knows his own self. Sītā’s virtuous younger sister, Urmilā, was also given in marriage to Lakṣmaṇa. Thus, at that self-choice ceremony, Sītā was given to Rāma, to whom she remained devoted in righteousness, her husband, the best among the strong. So ends the one hundred eighteenth sarga of the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa in the ancient and noble Rāmāyaṇa composed by Vālmīki. When Sītā finished her tale, the wise Anasūyā, who understood righteousness, embraced Maithilī tenderly and kissed her on the head. She praised Sītā’s words, remarking on their clarity, sweetness, and the delight she felt in hearing the story of the svayaṃvara. As they spoke, the sun had set, and the auspicious night descended. The sounds of birds settling for sleep filled the dusk, while ascetics, their garments still damp from bathing, gathered with water jars in hand. The seers performed their evening oblations, filling the air with smoke tinged red like a dove’s body, swirling gently in the breeze. All around, the thickening trees obscured the directions, and nocturnal creatures began to stir, while the animals of the hermitage rested by the sacred bathing places. Night deepened, adorned with stars, and the moon rose, veiled in its own gentle light. Anasūyā said, “Go now, Sītā; attend to Rāma. Your sweet words have brought me satisfaction.” She invited Sītā to adorn herself, asking her to shine with divine ornaments and bring her joy. Sītā, thus adorned and radiant as a daughter of the gods, bowed respectfully and went to Rāma. Rāghava, best among speakers, saw Sītā in her finery and rejoiced at the affection shown by the ascetic woman. Sītā told Rāma all that had transpired—the gifts of garments, ornaments, and garlands she had received. Rāma and the mighty Lakṣmaṇa were filled with happiness at the honor bestowed upon Sītā, a rare blessing among mortals. Thus, Rāma, his face shining like the moon, spent that auspicious night in joy, welcomed by ascetics and perfected beings.