- where Raghubara had rested beneath the sacred shisham tree. There with the utmost affection and reverence Bharata prostrated himself.

When he saw the delectable couch of kusha grass, he reverently paced round it and made obeisance. He also placed the dust of Rama’s footprints on his eyes with an overflow of devotion beyond all telling.

He saw there two three golden spangles, which he placed on his head as though they were Sita herself. With tears in his eyes and a heart full of remorse he spoke to his companion in gentle tones:

‘Separated from Sita, these spangles have lost their brilliance and are lying lustreless, just as the people of Ayodhya, both men and women, are wasted with sorrow. To whom shall I compare her father, Janaka, who in this world is a master of both ascerticism and enjoyment?

And she had for her father-in-law Dasharath, the sun of the Solar race, whom even the lord of Paradise (Indra) envied. And her beloved lord is no other than Lord Rama, from whose glory all great ones derive their greatness!

Even as I gaze on the grassy couch used by Sita, that jewel of chaste and virtuous wives, my heart breaks not to horror surely, O Shankara, it is far harder than a thunderbolt!

No brother like Lakshmana, young, handsome and made to be fondled, has ever been or is or will be. Dear to the people of the city and the darling of his parents, he is dear as life to both Sita and Rama.