The foremost of the twice-born approached me and said, “Let us rely upon you.” Hearing these words, I listened with full attention and replied with humility, “May you all be gracious to me; within me is a deep sense of modesty.” When these venerable brahmins came as my guests, I asked them in their presence, “What should I do for you?” They answered, “O Rāma, we are gravely afflicted; may you protect us here. Especially at the time of offerings and on festival days, O sinless one, the exceedingly formidable rākṣasas—eaters of flesh—harass us. The ascetics, devoted to austerity, are oppressed by these rākṣasas. You are our supreme refuge as we seek a way out. By the power of our own austerities, we could destroy these night-dwellers, but we do not wish to break the austerity we have long maintained. Austerity is always beset with many obstacles and is difficult to practice, O Rāghava. Therefore, even when being devoured by rākṣasas, we do not utter curses. Those ascetics dwelling in the Daṇḍaka forest, afflicted by rākṣasas, now seek your protection, along with your brother, for we are under your guardianship in this forest.” Having heard all this, I made a promise to the sages of the Daṇḍaka forest. O daughter of Janaka, once I have pledged my word, I cannot, while living, break it. It is always my cherished truth not to act otherwise toward the sages. I would abandon my life, or even you, Sītā, along with Lakṣmaṇa, but having given my word—especially to the brāhmaṇas—I cannot forsake it. Therefore, I must certainly protect the sages. Even if this had not been spoken, O Vaidehī, how could I make such a pledge again? Out of affection and friendship, you have spoken these words to me. I am fully satisfied with you, Sītā; for one who is not worthy is not instructed thus. This is fitting and appropriate for your noble lineage, O beautiful one. You are my companion in righteousness, more precious to me than life itself. Having thus spoken to his beloved Sītā, the daughter of the king of Mithilā, the great-souled Rāma, bearing his bow, together with Lakṣmaṇa, set out for the delightful hermitages. Rāma walked ahead, Sītā—radiant—was in the middle, and behind followed Lakṣmaṇa, holding his bow. They journeyed together, observing the rocky slopes, the forests, and the delightful rivers. Along the way, they saw cranes and chakravāka birds roaming the riverbanks, and lakes filled with blooming lotuses and teeming with waterfowl. Herds of deer, intoxicated and horned, bounded together, while buffaloes, wild boars, and elephants hostile to trees moved about. After traveling a long distance as the sun was setting, they came upon a beautiful lake, ten yojanas wide. It was crowded with lotuses and water-lilies, adorned with herds of elephants, and filled with cranes, swans, and kadamba birds, teeming with aquatic life. In that charming lake with clear waters, the sound of singing and instruments was heard, though no one was seen. Curious, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa approached the sage named Dharmabhṛt. “Having heard this most wondrous thing, O great sage, all of us are greatly curious; please tell us what this is,” they asked. Thus addressed, the sage, whose soul was devoted to righteousness, began to recount the power of the lake: “That great sage Māṇḍakarṇi performed intense austerity for ten thousand years, subsisting only on air, while residing in the water. Then all the gods, led by Agni, became disturbed, fearing that the sage desired a place among them. To obstruct his austerity, the gods appointed five chief apsarases, radiant as lightning. By those apsarases, the sage, who had seen the highest and lowest, was brought under the sway of passion, fulfilling the gods’ purpose. The five apsarases became the sage’s wives, and in the lake, a house was built for them, hidden within. There, the apsarases dwell as they please, delighting the sage, who has embraced youth, with their ascetic practices and union. The sounds you hear—the music, the jingling of ornaments, the enchanting songs—are from their playful activities.” “Wonderful!” exclaimed the noble-minded Rāghava, accepting the sage’s words along with his illustrious brother. As the sage spoke, Rāma beheld a circle of hermitages ahead, surrounded by kusa grass and bark garments, and filled with the divine radiance of Brahman. Rāghava entered there together with Vaidehī and Lakṣmaṇa, into that splendid circle of hermitages. There, he stayed comfortably, honored by the great sages, and visited the hermitages of those ascetics in turn. The master of mighty weapons had previously dwelt among them, sometimes for several months, sometimes for a whole year. At other times, he stayed four months, five, or six in different places; elsewhere, he remained for more months, sometimes more than half a year, ever honoring the ascetics and fulfilling his promise.