Rare in this world are those honourable men who turn not their back on the foe in battle nor give their heart to or rest their eyes on another’s wife, and from whom no beggar suffers a rebuff’.

While Rama was talking to his brother in this strain, his heart, which was enamoured of Sita’s beauty, was all the time drinking in the loveliness of her face as the bee sucks honey from the lotus.

Sita looked anxiously all around, wondering where the princes had gone. Wherever the fawn-eyed princess glanced, there seemed to rain down a continuous stream of glistening lotus flowers.

Then her companions showed her the two lovely princes, the one dark, the other fair, standing behind a fence of creepers. On beholding the beauty of the two princes, her eyes were filled with longing and with the gladness of one who has found a long-lost treasure.

Her eyes grew tired with gazing on Raghunatha’s charms; her eyelids too ceased to wink, and she was faint with excess of love, like the partridge when she sees the autumn moon.

Receiving Rama into her heart by the pathway of her eyes. She cleverly closed on him the doors of her eyelids. When her maidens found Sita thus overpowered by love, they could not utter a word in their modest confusion.

At that moment the two brothers emerged from the creeper-covered bower like a pair of spotless moons tearing the veil of cloud.