Even if the mind is troubled by faults arising from past evil births and actions, one must summon courage and lift it up, just as a deer trapped in mud is rescued with care and determination. No matter if one is born under the sway of tamas, rajas, or any other condition, those of virtue—through the power of their discernment—rise to a sattvic birth. O Raghava, whatever is firmly established within the pure jewel of the mind, that one becomes; thus, it is effort that prevails above all. Through noble qualities, perseverance, and steadfast effort, even those of humble origin become seekers of liberation. Truly, there is nothing on earth or in the heavens that a person endowed with virtues and striving with effort cannot attain. Endowed with unwavering courage, supreme dispassion, and mature wisdom, there is no goal beyond your reach, O Rama, if you are diligent in your endeavor. Therefore, with great courage, act for your own highest good, guided by discernment, and you shall become free from all sorrow. In time, your own freedom will bring liberation to the people of this earth, who will also be freed from sorrow. And, O Rama, in a future birth, when you are endowed with supreme discrimination and delight in the abundant quality of goodness, let your mind, established in virtuous action, remain untouched by thoughts of bondage and delusion. Now, having completed the teachings on sustenance, listen to this: the section on quiescence, which is known to bring about liberation. In the royal assembly, tranquil as the autumn sky adorned with stars, Sage Vasistha spoke pure and delightful words. The assembly sat in perfect stillness, grounded like the earth itself, as unmoving as lotuses in windless air, intent on hearing the sage’s wisdom. Among the women, pride, delusion, and strength had subsided, and an inner calm prevailed, as if they had long been devoted to renunciation. Their hands, like lotuses, rested quietly as though listening, and the fans, like mute bells, were stilled, absorbed in the silence. The wise kings sat in contemplation, their index fingers placed motionless near their nostrils, reflecting on the subtle knowledge being imparted. Rama himself blossomed like a lotus at dawn, the darkness of ignorance dispelled, just as the sky brightens at sunrise. The son of Dasaratha listened to Vasistha’s words as a peacock listens intently to the deep, thundering clouds that promise rain. Bharata, having withdrawn his restless mind from all enjoyments like a monkey brought to stillness, sat with the ministers, applying himself with effort to the teaching. Lakshmana, in whom the pure, moon-like Self had been realized through Vasistha’s instruction, shone as the very embodiment of discernment, beyond the reach of further teaching. Shatrughna, destroyer of foes, whose mind had attained fullness, stood there filled with joy, like the full moon on the night of its fullness. Sumitra’s son stood with a mind cool as moonbeams, his heart blossoming like a lotus in that moment. The sages and kings stood with minds purified like flawless jewels, as if their hearts exhaled in relief. Suddenly, a great sound arose, filling all directions, deep as the rumble of thunderclouds at the world’s end, like the mighty roar of conches at midday, equal to the tumult of the ocean. The sage’s words were drowned out by that sound, just as the calls of cuckoos are lost amid thunder. Vasistha paused, withholding his speech, for who can reveal profound truth when its essence is lost in a great clamor? After a moment of listening to the midday tumult, when it had subsided, the sage addressed Rama: “Rama, I have recounted to you the events of this day; tomorrow morning, O destroyer of foes, I will speak further of what remains to be told. Now it is time for the midday ritual, the prescribed duty of the twice-born. Let us perform it, for the noble ones are waiting. You, too, fortunate one, arise and skillfully perform all the ritual acts—bathing, giving, worship, and the rest—properly and completely.” Having spoken thus, the sage rose together with King Dasharatha, and the assembly rose as the moon and sun rise from behind the eastern mountain. As the two rose, the entire assembly stirred, their eyes, like lotus stalks, gently touched by a soft breeze. Among them, a noble lady rose, adorned with a cluster of bees upon her ear-ornament, her lotus-like hand swaying gracefully, like an elephant troop on Mount Vindhya. Her armlets, powdered and reddened from mutual contact, resembled the twilight sky tinged by clouds of crushed jewels. As her upper garment slipped, bees hovered and buzzed, while her towering crown shone, making the sky appear as if adorned with Indra’s rainbow. Her beloved’s vine-like hand waved the chowrie fan, like a forest path stirred by the movement of noble elephants. Her bracelets and jeweled bangles clashed and drew aside her garment, like a garland of mandara flowers tossed by the wind in a grove. She was like a pure raincloud formed from musk mist, her presence spreading over the earth like the expanse of the autumn sky. Her hair was adorned with clusters of red-tinted jewels; her garment’s folds, like the restless lotus at dusk, signaled the close of day’s activities. Streams of jewel-light poured from her lotus face as she moved with the grace of ripples on a pond, her anklets ringing in melodious waves. The creation itself seemed to arise anew, crowded with mountains and filled with multitudes of beings, as if just manifested. Then, after bowing to the king, the lords departed from the royal palace like waves adorned with jewels leaving the ocean, forming a rainbow in their wake.