Then the Nishada composed himself and said, ‘Now, Sumantra, cease sorrowing; you are a man of wisdom and versed in the highest truth; submit yourself patiently to unpropitious fortune.’

With various legends narrated in consoling accents, he took him by force and made him mount the chariot; but he was so overcome by grief that he could not drive the chariot; his heart ached so grievously for the loss of Rama.

The horses reared and bucked and would not move along the road; it was as though wild animals had been caught and put in harness. They would stumble and fall, and again turn to look behind, utterly distraught by the anguish of separation from Rama.

When anyone mentioned the name of Rama, Lakshmana or Sita, they would at once neigh and regard him with love. How can anyone describe the grief of separation the horses felt? They were as distressed as a serpent robbed of its head-jewel.

The Nishada was driven to distraction as he beheld the minister and his horses. Then he sent for four trusted grooms and sent them with the charioteer (Sumantra).

After seeing off the charioteer, Guha returned, more disconsolate at the parting than words can tell. And the Nishadas drove off to Ayodhya, sunk every moment in deeper sorrow.

Tortured by remorse, a prey to woe, Sumantra lamented: ‘Accursed is life bereft of Raghubira! This wretched body will not last for ever; then why did it not win honour by perishing at the time of Rama’s departure?