Lakṣmaṇa stood by as Rāma, tormented by the loss of Sītā, spoke with a voice trembling with both sorrow and wrath. “Lakṣmaṇa,” Rāma said, “even the lord of all beings, though heroic and compassionate, may be disregarded by creatures blinded by ignorance. Surely, the lords of the gods think me weak because I am gentle, devoted to the good of all, self-controlled, and compassionate. See, Lakṣmaṇa, how my very virtue has become a fault for me; today, it threatens to bring destruction to all beings and the Rākṣasas alike. Just as the great sun, when it rises, withdraws the light of the moon, so too shall my power shine forth, withdrawing all virtues. Neither Yakṣas, nor Gandharvas, nor Piśācas, nor Rākṣasas, nor Kinnaras, nor even humans, Lakṣmaṇa, shall find happiness now. Look at the sky, Lakṣmaṇa—soon it will be filled with my weapons and arrows, making it impassable for any who roam the three worlds. Today, the planets will be restrained, the moon obstructed, fire and wind will vanish, and even the radiance of the sun will be concealed. Mountain peaks will shatter, lakes will dry up, trees and thickets will be destroyed, and the ocean itself will disappear. I shall bring the three worlds, joined with the force of Time and Death, to ruin if the lords of the world do not return Sītā to me unharmed. In this very moment, O Saumitri, they shall witness my might—no beings, Lakṣmaṇa, shall ascend to the heavens. Behold, Lakṣmaṇa, the world thrown into turmoil and disorder, pierced through with arrows impossible for living beings to withstand. For the sake of Maithilī, I shall destroy the demons and fiends; even the gods shall see the power of my wrathful arrows. Today, the gods shall witness my arrows, released in anger and flying far, and neither gods, nor titans, nor fiends, nor demons shall remain when, out of my fury, the three worlds are destroyed. The realms of gods, demons, yakṣas, and even the rākṣasas will fall in many ways, shattered by torrents of arrows; today I shall render these worlds lawless with my shafts. If the lords do not return Sītā to me, whether she is stolen or dead, if they do not restore my beloved Vaidehī in such a state, I shall destroy the entire world—the threefold universe, all that moves and does not move—and with my arrows, I shall torment it until I see her.” Having spoken thus, Rāma’s eyes reddened with anger, his lips quivered, and he fastened his bark garment and deerskin, binding up his matted locks. In that state, the body of wise Rāma, furious as he was, shone like Rudra when he destroyed Tripura. Then Rāma, taking his bow from Lakṣmaṇa and drawing it tight, picked up a blazing, terrible arrow, like a venomous serpent. The illustrious Rāma, conqueror of enemy cities, fitted the arrow to his bow, and, enraged like the fire at the end of an age, spoke: “Just as old age, death, time, and fate are never turned back among all beings, O Lakṣmaṇa, so too, joined with wrath, I am surely unstoppable. If today they do not return Sītā, the faultless Maithilī, as she was before, then I shall overturn the worlds of gods, gandharvas, men, and serpents, along with their mountains.” At this moment, the burning grief of Sītā’s abduction consumed Rāma, and he blazed like the fire at the end of time, fit to destroy all beings. He stood with his bow strung, breathing heavily again and again, desiring to burn the entire world, just as Śiva does at the end of an age. Seeing Rāma in such a state—enraged as never before—Lakṣmaṇa, his face parched with anxiety, approached with folded hands and spoke gently: “Once gentle and self-controlled, devoted to the welfare of all beings, you should not abandon your nature by succumbing to anger. Beauty resides in the moon, radiance in the sun, movement in the wind, and patience on earth; likewise, supreme fame is ever established in you. You should not destroy the worlds for the offense of one; I do not yet know whose battle-chariot this is, broken as it is. By whom, for whom, and for what reason is this chariot, with its yoke and fittings, wounded by hooves and wheels, sprinkled with drops of blood? This place, O prince, is the site of a fierce battle now ended; but the struggle was only between one and another, not two, O best of speakers. I do not see any trace of a great army’s movement here; you should not destroy the worlds for the deed of a single person. Gentle and peaceful rulers administer just punishment; you are always the refuge and highest goal of all beings. Who, O Rāghava, would approve the loss of your wife? Rivers, oceans, mountains, gods, Gandharvas, and demons—none are able to harm you, just as the virtuous cannot harm one who is consecrated. O king, you should search for the one who has taken Sītā. With you, unrivaled and armed with your bow, and aided by the foremost sages, we shall search the ocean, the mountains, and the forests. We shall thoroughly search the various dreadful caves, the many lotus lakes, and the realms of gods and Gandharvas. Until we find the one who has taken your wife, if the lords of heaven do not return your spouse by peaceful means, O king of Kosala, then you shall act when the time is right. If, O king, you do not obtain Sītā by virtue, persuasion, and humility, then destroy them with arrows tipped with gold, like Indra’s thunderbolts.” Thus, Lakṣmaṇa sought to restrain Rāma’s wrath, guiding him back to the path of patience and righteousness, even as the world itself seemed to tremble beneath the weight of Rāma’s grief and fury.