‘May all the gods and manes guard you, my holy son, as closely as the eyelids guard the eyes. The period of banishment is the water of a lake in which the fish are your near and dear ones, and you are all-merciful and righteous.

Remember then to make your plans so that you may find them all alive when you come again. Go, then, in peace to the woods – may I take upon myself all your misfortunes – leaving your servants, your relatives and the whole city in bereavement.

This day the fruit of everyone’s meritorious deeds has vanished and the tide of fortune has turned against us in all its terror!’ Thus wailing in many ways, she clung to Rama’s feet, accounting herself the most miserable of women.

Cruel and intolerable anguish pierced her heart through and through, and the profusion of cries and moans was beyond all description. Rama raised his mother and pressed her to his bosom and then comforted her with many tender words.

At that moment Sita heard the news and rose in great agitation. She approached her mother-in-law, did obeisance to her lotus feet and, bowing her head, sat down.

The mother-in-law blessed her in gentle accents and felt distressed when she regarded her most delicate frame. With her head bent low, Sita, the quintessence of beauty and model of wifely devotion, sat there reflecting.

‘The lord of my life would go to the forest; how can I merit to accompany him? My body and spirit together or my spirit alone? But God’s doings are inscrutable.’