King Daśaratha, overwhelmed by worry, spoke with trembling heart to the sage Viśvāmitra. “If that wicked soul,” he said, “should cause an obstacle in your sacrifice, then in battle we are powerless before such evil. At different times, O brāhmaṇa, beings of immense power and might arise in this world, but in time, they too dissolve. Yet now, in the face of enemies like Rāvaṇa, we cannot stand against them; this is the decree of fate. Therefore, O knower of dharma, show favor to my son and to me, who am of little fortune. You alone are our supreme refuge. Not even the gods, the dānavas, gandharvas, yakṣas, monkeys, or serpents can contend with Rāvaṇa in battle—what then can mere men do? He steals the strength of the valorous and even of those who drink nectar; thus, we cannot overcome him, even with the aid of boons. This is another age in which good people have become powerless; even Rāghava himself has fallen into dejection, worn down by age. Or, O Brahman, tell me about Lavaṇa, the son of Madhu, renowned among the gods—a slayer of sacrifices—where may I send my son? But if you do not wish this, O Brahman, then I submit to your will; otherwise, I see no lasting victory for myself.” Having spoken these gentle words, Daśaratha, filled with fear and tossed about by doubts like a great soul adrift in the ocean’s waves, could not find any resolution. Hearing the king’s words, full of emotion and affection, the sage Kauśika—Viśvāmitra—replied with anger: “Having pledged, ‘I will do it,’ you now wish to abandon your vow? You, a lion in courage, desire the state of a deer. Such reversal does not befit the house of the Raghavas; black rays never arise from the cool-rayed moon. If you are unable, O king, I will depart as I came. O descendant of Kakutstha, be happy with your kin, though your vow remains unfulfilled.” As the great-souled Viśvāmitra was overcome by anger, the entire earth trembled and the gods were seized by fear. Perceiving the sage’s wrath, the steadfast and wise Vasiṣṭha, friend of the world, spoke: “You, born in the Ikṣvāku lineage, are like another embodiment of Dharma, O Daśaratha, illustrious and adorned with virtue throughout the three worlds. Being prudent and steadfast in your vows, you should not abandon righteousness; you must act according to the words of the sage, lord of the three worlds. Renowned everywhere for your righteousness, you must hold fast to your duty—do not forsake dharma. Having promised, ‘I will do it,’ if you do not fulfill your word, O king, your merit from sacrifices and good deeds will vanish. Therefore, send Rāma. Protected by the lion among men, just as nectar is guarded by fire, whether he bears weapons or not, the Rākṣasas will not harm him. Even you, Daśaratha, scion of Ikṣvāku, if you do not uphold your word, who else will? All beings follow the boundaries set by your conduct; do not forsake that now. This sage is dharma embodied, foremost among the powerful, supreme in intellect, and the ultimate among those devoted to austerity. He knows all weapons in the three worlds, among both moving and unmoving beings; no other man knows as he does, nor will anyone ever know. Neither the divine sages, nor immortals, nor demons, nor nāgas, yakṣas, or gandharvas are equal to him. A weapon, exceedingly difficult to overcome, was once given to him by Bhṛśāśva upon gaining his kingdom. The sons of Bhṛśāśva, radiant and mighty as the offspring of Prajāpati, followed him. Jayā and Suprabhā, daughters of Dakṣa with slender waists, each bore fifty sons—heroes, unconquerable and full of might. Jayā, with a boon, gave birth to fifty imperishable sons, able to assume any form, for the destruction of asura armies. Suprabhā’s fifty sons, the Sangharshas, were likewise mighty and invincible. Such is the power and brilliance of Viśvāmitra; do not let your mind waver about sending Rāma. With this foremost sage nearby, even at death’s approach, a virtuous person attains immortality. Do not despair like one who is deluded.” When Vasiṣṭha had spoken thus, King Daśaratha, resolved to send his son, summoned Rāma together with Lakṣmaṇa. He called to his doorkeeper, “Swiftly bring Rāma, mighty-armed and valiant, along with Lakṣmaṇa, without delay, for the sake of the sage.” Obeying the king’s command, the doorkeeper went to the inner palace and soon returned to address Daśaratha: “O lord, Rāma, who has vanquished all his enemies, is in his chamber, dispirited, like a bee resting on a lotus at night. He says, ‘I will come in a moment,’ and sits alone, absorbed in thought; his mind is weary, and he wishes to be near no one.” Hearing this, the king comforted all of Rāma’s attendants and questioned them, seeking to know the state of his beloved son. When asked, “How and in what state is Rāma?” Rāma’s servant, distressed, spoke to the king, ready to reveal all he knew.