But when the king realized that the sickness (of Kaikeyi’s obduracy) was incurable, he dropped on the ground and beat his head, sobbing out in most piteous tones, ‘Rama! O Rama! O lord of Raghus!’

The king was stricken with grief and his limbs began to droop like a tree of Paradise that some elephant had knocked down. His throat was parched and speech failed his lips, like some unhappy fish deprived of water.

Then once again Kaikeyi plied him with biting, bitter taunts, infusing as it were poison into his wounds: ‘If you meant to act thus in the end, what emboldened you to say, “Ask! Ask!”

Is it possible, O king, to roar with laughter and pout at the same time? Or be niggardly and enjoy the reputation of being munificent? Or play the hero on the field and remain unscathed?

Either go back upon your word or act like a man; pray do not wail like a weak woman. It is said that life, wife and sons, home, wealth and land, all are but as a blade of grass in the eyes of a man who is true to his word.'

On hearing these cutting words, the king exclaimed, ‘Say what you will; you are not to blame for it; it is my fate that has possessed you like a devil and is using you as its mouthpiece.

Bharata would never covet sovereignty even by mistake, but by the decree of fate perversity has come to dwell in your heart. All this is the consequence of my sins, due to which God has turned hostile at this ill hour.