Falling at the feet of my lord’s parents, entreat them from me not to grieve on my account, for I am naturally happy in the woods and content.

With the sovereign of my soul and his younger brother, most valiant of champions, both carrying bow and quiver, the toilsome wanderings of the journey will not weary me, nor shall I experience any illusion or sorrow; therefore, pray grieve not on my account even unwittingly.

On hearing Sita’s refusal, though couched in soothing tones, Sumantra was as distressed as a serpent that has lost its head-jewel. He could neither see with his eyes nor hear with his ears nor utter any word in his extreme agitation.

Rama said everything to console him, but his heart refused to be comforted. He made every effort even to accompany the Lord, but Rama returned appropriate answers to all his pleas.

What Rama ordains cannot be annulled; the ways of fate, which are beyond anybody’s control, are ever hard. Bowing his head before the feet of Rama, Lakshmana and Sita, he turned back like a merchant who has lost his all.

As he drove off, the horses of his chariot continued gazing at Rama and whinnying. When they saw it, the Nishadas (Guha’s men) grieved sore and beat their heads and lamented.

When even brute beasts are so distressed on being torn away from him, how will his subjects and his father and mother endure to live without him? Having dismissed Sumantra against the latter’s will, Rama himself came to the bank of the Ganga.