SECTION XIII.
Then as the mighty king was lying down in this unbeseeming and improper guise, like Yayāti dropped from the celestial regions when his religious merit had been exhausted, that lady, personating the ruin of the race, not fearing public odium, who had discerned danger from Rāma unto Bharata, not having attained her wish, again addressed the monarch, concerning the boon he had promised unto her,—Thou describest thyself, O mighty monarch, as speaking the truth and firm in vow. Why then dost thou hesitate to confer this boon on me?" Thus addressed by Kaikeyi king Daçarātha, remaining stupified for a while thus answered her in wrath,—"O ignoble one! O enemy of mine! On my being dead, and that chief of men, Rāma, reparing to the woods, do thou, thine wish attained, become happy. When in heaven, questioning me as to Rāma's welfare, the celestials, learning of his banishment to the woods, will tax me on this score, how shall I also bear that reproach of theirs? If I shall truthfully say I have sent Rāma to the woods for compassing Kaikeyi's pleasure, that will count for a falsehood. Sonless first, I have obtained the exceedingly energetic and mighty Rāma by great pain,—how can I then renounce him? How shall I banish Rāma having eyes resembling lotus' petals, who is heroic, and accomplished and of subdued anger, and forgiving. How shall I dismiss unto Dandaka the charming Rāma of dark blue hue like that of a blue lotus, possessed of mighty arms, and having great strength? How shall I behold the intelligent Rāma in evil plight, who has never known suffering, and has always enjoyed felicity? If without inflicting injury upon Rāma, I meet with death, I shall then attain happiness. O cruel Kaikeyi, O thou of evil purpose, why dost thou do this wrong unto my beloved Rāma having truth for prowess? If I banish Rāma, an unparalleled obloquy will surely darken (my fair fame).
As king Daçarātha was bewailing thus with a heart wrought up with grief, the sun set and night came on. But although crested with the lunar disc, the night failed to bring comfort unto the king, distressed, and indulging in grief. Then the old king Daçarātha, with his eyes fixed at the sky, sighing hot, lamented in this strain—"O night studded with stars, I beseech thee, let not the morning appear. Do thou, O gentle one, do me this kindness. I do thus clasp my hands (by way of supplication). Or do thou speedily repair for I do not wish to see the hated and relentless Kaikeyi, who has brought this calamity upon me". Having spoken thus, the king conversant with the duties of Sovereigns again endeavoured to propitiate Kaikeyi, saying,—"O noble dame, do thou show favour unto me, who am of honest ways, who am distressed, who have made myself thine, who have finished his life, and who, in especial, am thy king. That I have spoken to thee thus was because, O thou of shapely hips, I had been deprived of my senses (through grief). O girl, do thou show thy favour unto me,—be thou generous,—be thou propitious. Let my Rāma obtain the kingdom in fact conferred by thee. Thereupon, O thou having the outer corner of thy eyes of dark blue hue, thou wilt attain high fame (among men). O thou of well-developed hips, do thou do this act of benefit unto me and Rāma and the people and the superiors, and Bharata".
Having heard the exceedingly piteous words of her husband, the king of pure sentiment, who was distressed, with his eye rendered coppery and flowing with tears, that wicked minded and merciless woman spoke not. Thereat seeing that his favourite dissatisfied wife persisted in urging the banishment of his son, the king struck with grief, again fell down to the earth, senseless. As the wise king afflicted with sorrow was sighing hot and hard, the night passed away. Then as the eulogists attempted to sing his praises for awakening him, he prohibited them to do so.