'Your name,’ said Hanuman, ‘is the watchman who guards her by day and night; her contemplation of you is the gate; her eyes fixed on her feet are the fetters; through what door, then, can her life flit away?

When I was leaving her, she gave me this jewel from her hair.’ Raghunatha took it and clasped it to his heart. ‘My Lord,’ continued Hanuman, ‘with her eyes overflowing with tears, Janaka’s daughter has sent the following message:

"Clasp the feet of my lord and those of his brother and say, ‘O befriender of the distressed and reliever of your suppliant’s pain. I am devoted to your feet in thought and word and deed; then for what offence, Lord, have you deserted me?

Of one offence I am myself conscious – that my life did not take flight the moment I was separated from you; but, Lord, this is the fault of my eyes which forcibly prevent my life from escaping.

Bereavement is a fire, my body is a heap of cotton and my sighs a gust of wind; thus the fire aided by the wind can consume my body in a moment, but my eyes in their own interest rain such a flood of tears that the body fails to catch the fire of bereavement."

O gracious Lord of the afflicted, Sita’s misery is so overwhelmingly profound that it is better not to describe it.

Her each single moment, O fountain of mercy, passes like an aeon. Set out at once, Lord, and vanquishing the villainous crew by the might of your arm, bring her back.’