Raghuraja himself and the congregation of holy men, the sage and the king of Mithila almost swooned with love and praised in their hearts the exceeding greatness of Bharata’s brotherly love and devotion. The gods, too, applauded Bharata and rained down flowers on him, though with a heavy heart. On hearing his speech all the people were distressed and shrank into themselves like lotuses that wither at the approach of night.

When Indra saw every man and woman in both the assemblies so afflicted and downcast, the vile wretch still sought to gain his ends by slaying the already slain.

The king of heaven is the worst specimen of deceitfulness and villainy; he loves another’s loss and his own gain. The ways of Indra are like those of a crow, crafty, malicious, putting faith in none. (Pakaripu or ‘Paka’s enemy’ is one of Indra’s names, in consequence of his having slain the demon Paka.)

Having in the first instance formed an evil design and gathered together all the forces of deceit, he piled up mental weariness on the heads of all. Though all were thus bewitched by the god’s delusive power, they could not be wholly deprived of the affection they bore for Rama.

Overcome as they all were by fear and ennui, they were all distracted; at one moment they longed for the woods, at another for going back home. The people in this unsettled state had the current of their ideas as disturbed as the water where the river runs into the sea.

Thus wavering in mind, they found no comfort anywhere, nor did any disclose his secret thoughts to another. When the all-compassionate Lord saw it, he smiled within himself and said, ‘A dog, a young libertine and Indra are all alike!’ (This refers to Panini’s shva-yuva-maghonamataddhite. The grammarian mentions the three nouns as being subject to the same characteristics in their declension.)

Excepting Bharata, Janaka, the host of sages, the ministers and the enlightened saints, the delusive magic of the gods affected all, according to the susceptibility of the individual.