Realizing this, my Lord, only give me an order and see what wonders I work; I will string the bow as though it were a lotus stalk and run off with it more than a thousand kilometres!

By the might of your glory, O Lord, I will snap it like a mushroom stem; or, if I don’t I swear by your holy feet I’ll never take bow and quiver in hand again!’

As Lakshmana spoke these angry words, the earth reeled and the elephants supporting the quarters trembled. The whole assembly, including all the princes, was struck with terror; Sita felt delighted at heart, but Janaka was embarrassed.

The preceptor (Vishvamitra), Raghunatha and all the sages were enraptured and thrilled all over with excitement. With a sign Rama checked Lakshmana and seated him lovingly by his side.

Perceiving that the right moment had arrived, Vishvamitra said in most endearing terms, ‘Arise, Rama, and break the bow of Shiva and relieve Janaka, my boy, of his distress’.

On hearing the guru’s words Rama bowed his head at his feet; there was neither joy nor sorrow in his heart; he rose in all his native grace, putting to shame a young lion by his lordly carriage.

As Raghunatha rose and stood upon the dais, like the morning sun climbing the mountains of the east, all the saints rejoiced like so many lotuses, and their eyes were glad as bees at the return of day.