Chapter 48 - Lakshmana leaves Sita on the Banks of the Ganges

Hearing Lakshmana’s harsh words, the daughter of Janaka, overcome with despair, fell to the ground but, regaining consciousness after a time, her eyes bathed in tears, she addressed him in broken accents, saying:—

“Assuredly this body of mine has been created for misfortune and is its supporter from this time forward. What sin can I have committed in days gone by or whom did I separate from her husband, that I, who am virtuous and chaste, should be cast off by the king?

“Formerly I lived in the forest following in Rama’s footsteps and was content in the misfortune in which I found myself, O Prince, now, how can I, abandoned by all, live in solitude, O dear Lakshmana? To whom shall I confide the affliction that has overwhelmed me? What can I say to the ascetics, O Lord? For what sin, for what reason, am I repudiated by the magnanimous Raghava? I may not yield up my life in the waters of the Ganges, lest I bring the royal line to an end 1 Therefore do what you have been commanded, O Saumitri, leave me to my wretched plight! It is for you to carry out the king’s behests, yet hear me—do you with joined palms pay homage to all my mothers-in-law and, having worshipped his feet, address the king.

With bowed head, speak to them all, O Lakshmana, and do you also say to the king, who is ever fixed in his duty,

‘O Raghava, you knowest I am truly pure and that I have been bound to you in supreme love, yet you have renounced me in fear of dishonour, because your subjects have reproached and censured you, O Hero. You should, however have spared me, since you are my only refuge.’

Further, you should say to the king who is established in righteousness, ‘As you dost act in regard to your brothers, so should you act in regard to your subjects; this is pre-eminently your duty and will bring you immeasurable renown; by its observance you will enjoy the fruits of the earth 1 As for me, I am not distressed on mine own account, O Prince of Raghu, it is for you to keep your fair name untarnished! The husband is as a God to the woman, he is her family, and her spiritual preceptor, therefore, even at the price of her life, she must seek to please her lord.’

“Repeat these words to Rama, it is all I ask of you. Having borne witness that I am far advanced in pregnancy, do you depart.”

So did Sita speak and Lakshmana, sad at heart, bowed to the earth without being able to answer her. Thereafter he circumambulated her sobbing aloud and, after reflecting awhile, said:—

“What hast you said, O Beautiful Princess, I have never raised mine eyes to your face and have ever but looked on your feet, O Irreproachable One. How should I, in his absence, dare to gaze upon the one Rama has abandoned in the lonely forest?”

With these words, he paid obeisance to her and re-entered the boat. Boarding the skiff, he urged the ferryman on, saying:—

“Cross to the farther shore.”

Beside himself with grief, in deep affliction, he, having reached the other bank proceeded in his swiftly moving chariot, turning round again and again to gaze on Sita, who, as if bereft of all support, was wandering about distraught on the farther side of the Ganges. Her eyes fixed on the chariot and on Lakshmana, now far distant, Sita was overcome with grief, and, crushed by the weight of her misfortune, the illustrious, noble and virtuous woman, seeing herself without a protector in the forest, that re-echoed to the cry of peacocks, a prey to despair, burst into loud sobs.