Rama, his heart ablaze with fury and grief, took his bow from Lakshmana and drew it taut. He selected a blazing, terrible arrow, its power like a venomous serpent ready to strike. The illustrious Rama, conqueror of enemy cities, fitted this arrow to his bow. Enraged, his wrath likened to the fire that consumes the world at the end of an age, Rama spoke fiercely: “Lakshmana, just as old age, death, time, and fate are never turned back among all beings, so too, when joined with wrath, I am unstoppable. If today they do not return Sita—the faultless Maithili—as she was before, I will overturn the world of gods, gandharvas, men, and serpents, along with its mountains.” At this moment, Rama’s anguish over Sita’s abduction burned within him like the annihilating fire at the end of the world, fit to destroy all beings. He stood with his bow strung, breathing heavily again and again, his mind set on burning the entire world, much as Shiva does at the end of an age. Lakshmana, seeing Rama consumed by rage as never before, approached him with folded hands, his face parched with anxiety. He spoke gently, reminding Rama of his true nature: “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 Raghava, 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 Sita. 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 Sita by virtue, persuasion, and humility, then destroy them with arrows tipped with gold, like Indra’s thunderbolts.” Rama, deeply afflicted by grief, lamented like one abandoned, overwhelmed by great delusion, his mind utterly distressed and lost. After a short while, Lakshmana, Saumitri, pressed Rama’s feet and gently awakened him. He spoke with tenderness and wisdom: “By great austerity and great deeds, King Dasharatha obtained you, as the immortals obtain ambrosia. Bound by your virtues, the king—lord of the earth—attained divinity upon separation from you, as has been heard regarding Bharata. If you, Kakutstha, cannot endure this sorrow that has come, then who else, being ordinary and of little strength, could possibly endure it? Take heart, best of men; who among living beings is untouched by misfortune? Like fire, O king, they touch for a moment and then pass away. If, overwhelmed by grief, you were to burn the worlds with your energy, O tiger among men, where would the afflicted people find relief? This is the very nature of the world: Yayati, son of Nahusha, attained the same realm as Indra, yet misfortune befell him as well. The great sage Vasishta, who was our father’s priest, begot a hundred sons in a single day, and all of them were likewise lost. Even this earth, mother of the world, revered by all beings, O lord of Kosala, is seen to tremble. The two upholders of righteousness, the eyes of the world, upon whom all rests—the mighty Sun and Moon—have suffered eclipses. Even the greatest beings and the gods, O best of men, do not escape fate; all embodied beings are subject to destiny. Even among the gods, like Indra and others, both good and bad fortune are heard of, O tiger among men; you should not grieve. Even if Vaidehi were dead, even if she were lost, O Raghava, you, O hero, should not grieve as an ordinary man would. Men like you, who see all things, do not constantly grieve, O Rama, even in the greatest hardships, for their vision is unwavering. Therefore, best of men, reflect with your intellect on the truth; those endowed with wisdom discern good and evil by reason. For actions whose merits and faults are unseen and whose results are uncertain, their desired fruits do not arise without effort. Indeed, O hero, you have often spoken thus to me before; who could instruct you—even Brihaspati himself?” Thus, Lakshmana’s wise counsel soothed Rama’s heart, urging him to patience and reason, and reminding him of his true nature and the path forward.