Though his attire suggested ascetic calm, he had a cruel record of deeds; his character, therefore, was beyond description. It was as though the heroic sentiment had taken the form of an anchorite and arrived where the kings had assembled.

When they saw Parashurama’s dreadful guise, the kings all rose in consternation; and each declaring his own as well as his father’s name, prostrated themselves before him.

Even he on whom Parashurama cast a natural, friendly glance thought his life had come to an end. Then came Janaka and bowed his head and sent for Sita to do obeisance.

Her companions rejoiced when he blessed her, and cleverly escorted her back to their own circle. Next came Vishvamitra, who met him and placed the two brothers at his lotus feet.

‘These are Rama and Lakshmana, sons of Dasharath’, said the sage. Having found the pair well-matched, Parashurama blessed them. His eyes were fixed upon Rama’s peerless beauty, which would humble the pride of Love himself.

Then he turned to Janaka and said, ‘Tell me, what has attracted all this crowd here?’ though he knew, he asked as though he knew not, and his whole body was filled with fury.

Janaka told him the whole history, mentioning why all the kings had assembled there. On hearing this, Parashurama turned round, and looking in another direction, saw the pieces of the bow lying on the ground.