‘Even if Shiva’s mighty bow proved too strong for him,’ they thought, ‘Sita would still place the garland of victory round his neck,’ ‘So, brothers’, they said, ‘let us turn homewards, casting to the winds all glory, fame, might and dignity’.

There were other kings, bereft of all discernment and blindly insolent, who mocked at such words and said, ‘Union with the princess is a far cry for Rama, even if he succeeds in breaking the bow; who, then, can marry her without breaking it?

Should Death himself for once come forth to oppose us, him too would we conquer in our battle for Sita.’ At this other princes, pious and prudent votaries of Hari, smiled and said:

‘Rama will certainly marry Sita to the discomfiture of these arrogant princes; who can conquer in battle the stalwart sons of Dasharath?

Do not thus brag and throw away your lives for naught; do imagined sweets satisfy one’s hunger? Listen to my most salutary advice: be inwardly assured that Sita is no other than Mother of the world.

And acknowledge the lord of Raghus to be Father of the world and feast your eyes to their fill upon his beauty. Fountains of joy and embodiments of all virtues, these two charming brothers dwell in the heart of Shiva.

Why do you desert the ocean of nectar that is so near and run in pursuit of a mirage and court death? Well, go and do what pleases each of you; we for our part have reaped this day our life’s reward.’