O Brahman, Rama spoke with deep yearning, saying, “If there is no method by which I may attain the supreme peace—or if such a way exists but none reveal it to me, and I myself do not reach that highest rest—then I will abandon all desires and become free from any sense of self. I shall neither eat nor drink, nor clothe myself; I will not engage in any worldly actions, whether bathing, giving, or taking food. I will renounce all activity, in both prosperity and adversity, desiring nothing except the abandonment of this body, O sage. Simply, without fear, without possessiveness, and free from envy, I will remain here in silence, as if assigned only to the task of writing, untouched by the world. Gradually, I will let go even of the awareness of breath, abandoning this arrangement called the body, which is now useless to me. I am not this body, nor does it belong to me; I shall become calm, like a lamp whose oil is spent. Having let go of everything, I will relinquish this body.” Thus spoke Rama, his hands cool and radiant, his mind expanded by great discernment. He became silent before the assembly of great ones, like a blue-throated bird that, after its cry among the clouds, rests in stillness. As these words—powerful enough to dispel the delusions of the mind—were spoken by Rama, the royal youth whose eyes were like lotus petals, all those present were struck with wonder. Their garments held in place, their bodies seemed to rise, as if lifted by the very act of listening. Freed from worldly impressions, with the residue of their desires stilled, for a moment they felt themselves tossed on the waves of an ocean of nectar. The words of Rāmabhadra, painted with wondrous color, filled their ears and brought abundant joy to their hearts. Sages such as Vasishtha and Vishvamitra, ministers led by Jayanta and Ghrishti—wise in counsel—heard him. Kings renowned like Dasaratha, citizens, bards and reciters, noblemen, princes, and brahmins versed in the Veda all listened. Servants and attendants, birds in their cages, playful deer now motionless, and horses who had ceased to graze were stilled by his speech. Women, led by Kausalya, stood at their windows in silent groups, their ornaments hushed, themselves unmoving. Even the creepers in the gardens, the monkeys in their abodes, and the flocks of birds grew silent, their songs stilled. Siddhas who move through the sky, Gandharvas and Kinnaras, and the foremost sages—Narada, Vyasa, and Pulaha—were present. Lords of the gods, lords of the Vidyadharas, and mighty serpents—all heard the wondrous, noble words of Rama. As Rama, lotus-eyed and as beautiful as the moon in the sky of the Raghu lineage, stood in silence, a canopy-like rain of flowers began to fall from the heavens, mingling with the noble words spoken and the gathering of Siddhas. The air was filled with the humming of bees resting in the buds of Mandara flowers, delighting in the intoxicating fragrance and beauty, exultant and enraptured. It was as if a stream of stars, blown by the sky’s wind, had fallen to earth; as if the world was covered with the radiance of heavenly women’s smiles. The floral shower descended like a line of raindrops from a single cloud, or as if lumps of clarified butter had been cast from above. Magnificent as a snow shower, resembling a string of pearls, like the radiance of moonbeams or the waves of a milk ocean, the cascade fell. The air was fragrant with the scent of lotus filaments, swarming with bees in motion, swayed by a gentle breeze sweet with humming and song. Clusters of ketaka flowers whirled about, heaps of blossoming water-lilies spread forth, garlands of jasmine fell, and the abodes of blue lotuses shimmered. The courtyards and rooftops of the houses of beautiful women were filled, watched by the city’s residents and women peering out with uplifted necks. A rain, clear as blue lotuses and free from clouds, appeared in the sky, never seen before, making everyone smile in wonder. Never before witnessed, stirred by the breath of accomplished beings, this shower of flowers fell for a quarter of an hour. With the assembly filled and the gentle rain of flowers at peace, all present heard the conversations of the hosts of siddhas. Among these perfected beings, who wander the skies, they marveled: “For ages we have journeyed everywhere, yet today we have heard something unprecedented—a nectar of speech. What has been declared here by the moon of the Raghu lineage, with such detachment, is beyond even the reach of the lord of speech himself. Truly, today we have heard words of great merit: Rama’s utterances, which delight the mind like nectar. He has spoken fittingly of the supreme state, beautiful as the nectar of tranquility, and so, at once, we have been awakened by the descendant of Raghu.” It was then declared: “It is fitting to hear the determination to be spoken by the great sages regarding these purifying words uttered by the banner of the Raghu line.” In response, all the great sages, led by Narada, Vyasa, and Pulaha, arrived without obstruction. They resolved, “Let us settle around this sacred assembly of the son of Dasaratha, like bees clustering around a lotus of pure gold, without any gaps.” Having spoken thus, the entire divine lineage of sages who dwell in the sky descended into the assembly. The foremost sages stood at the front, the wind at their backs, while the revered ones of the forest mingled among the cloud-dark, water-rich, and mighty Vyasa.