Rāma stood before Vāli, his words calm yet resolute. “How could I, who made a solemn vow before the assembled monkeys, ever disregard my promise?” he said. “For all these great and noble reasons, whatever command you now give is right; let your approval mark the path forward. In every way, your act of self-restraint is truly dharma. One who seeks to help a friend must always weigh what is righteous.” He continued, “You, too, are capable of fulfilling your duties—guided only by righteousness. It is said that Manu once sang two verses rich in virtue, which the wise and just have adopted, and I have followed that conduct myself. When kings uphold justice and enforce punishment, even those who have sinned are purified and attain heaven, just as the virtuous do. Whether through punishment or release, a thief is freed from his sin; but if a king fails to punish the wrongdoer, the guilt falls upon the king himself.” Rāma recalled, “My noble ancestor Māndhātr̥ once wished for a terrible calamity; when a sin was committed by an ascetic, it was as grave as the one you have committed. Even when other rulers err through carelessness, they perform atonement, and by that act, the stain of sin is washed away. Therefore, grieve no more. This killing is ordained by dharma, O foremost of monkeys, for we are not free to act as we please.” He added, “Listen to another reason, O chief of monkeys. After hearing it, O hero, you should not harbor anger. I hold no grief or anger towards you, O chief of monkeys. Just as men, with snares and traps both hidden and visible, capture many animals—those that run, those that are frightened, those that are careless, and those that stand firm—so too do men who eat meat strike down both inattentive and attentive creatures, even those who turn away. There is no fault in this.” “Royal sages, skilled in dharma, hunt in these forests. Thus, O monkey, whether you fought or not, I struck you down in battle with my arrow, for you are counted among the branch-dwellers. For rare dharma, for life, and for good fortune, kings are indeed the givers—there is no doubt. One should not harm them, nor abuse, nor insult, nor speak harshly; kings are like gods who walk this earth in human form.” “But you, not understanding the fullness of dharma and relying on anger alone, have accused me in matters of righteousness, though this dharma is established by our forefathers. Thus I have spoken.” Hearing Rāma’s words, Vāli was deeply distressed. Yet, understanding the truth of dharma, he found no fault in Rāma. With his palms joined in reverence, the king of monkeys replied, “What you have said, O best of men, is indeed true—there is no doubt. Only the superior can answer the superior, not the lesser. If earlier, through carelessness, I spoke words that were unfitting or harsh, even then, O Rāghava, you should not hold it against me. You perceive the true nature of things, are devoted to the welfare of all, and your clear, unwavering intellect is always fixed on what is right and its cause.” “If I, too, have acted in a way that departed from righteousness, knowingly or unknowingly, O knower of dharma, please protect me with words joined to righteousness.” Overcome with emotion, his throat choked by tears, Vāli uttered a cry of pain. He gazed at Rāma, helpless as an elephant trapped in the mud. “I do not grieve for myself, nor for Tārā, nor even for my kin, as much as I do for my son Aṅgada, who is foremost in virtue and adorned with golden ornaments. Deprived of seeing me, he—so cherished from childhood—will waste away like a pond whose water has dried up.” “He is but a child, his understanding unformed, my only beloved son. O Rāma, mighty son of Tārā, I entrust him to your protection. Let your wisdom guide Sugrīva and Aṅgada, for you are both protector and guide, steadfast in discerning what should and should not be done. The conduct you show towards your own brothers, Bharata and Lakṣmaṇa, O king, let that same conduct be shown to Sugrīva and Aṅgada. Just as you would ensure Sugrīva does not disregard Tārā, who is devoted to austerity and bears the blame for my faults, so should you act.” “One favored by you can rule the kingdom, living according to your will and following your guidance. It is possible to attain heaven and rule the earth by acting under your direction. Yet, even as Tārā tried to restrain me, I sought my death at your hands. I entered into single combat with my brother Sugrīva.” Having spoken thus to Rāma, the lord of the monkeys fell silent. Then Rāma, with words approved by the virtuous and filled with the meaning of dharma, comforted Vāli, whose understanding was now clear. “You should not be troubled by this, O monkey. We are not to be grieved over by you, nor should you, best of monkeys, grieve for yourself. In this matter, we have acted with firm resolve according to dharma. He who imposes punishment on the guilty, and the one who is punished—both, having fulfilled the purpose of action and its cause, should not be sorrowful. By receiving your due punishment, you are freed from sin and have attained your own righteous nature by the path of justice.” “Abandon grief, delusion, and the fear that dwells in your heart. O foremost of monkeys, the ordained order cannot be transgressed by you. As Aṅgada is always devoted to you, O lord of the monkeys, so too should Sugrīva be devoted to me—of this there is no doubt.” Hearing these sweet, thoughtful, and righteous words from the great-souled Rāma, the monkey king, skilled in battle, spoke well-chosen words in reply. “When, distressed by arrows, I spoke to you unknowingly, O lord—whose might is like Indra’s and whose valor is terrifying—you have been appeased. Forgive me, O king.