"Bharata, why have you left your kingly duties and come here in deer skin
and with matted locks?" asked Raama. Bharata attempted to speak several times, but at
first could not get beyond the word 'Brother.' Then he pulled himself together with
a great effort and said:
"Sending you to the forest, but unable
to bear the pain, our father's soul fled to heaven. All the good my mother has got from
her evil plan has been that she has become a sinner and a widow and is in deep sorrow.
Despised by the world, she experiences hen on earth. Only you can save us. Undo all the
evil that has been done and wipe off our tears by agreeing to be crowned.
It is to implore you for this that we and
the citizens and the army and the widowed queens have come and are all here waiting on
your word. Grant us our prayer. This alone will put an end to our sorrow and re-establish
the dharma of our race. Without a rightful king, the land is like a widow, desolate and
helpless. You must come back and make it happy and secure. Like the full moon rising,
dispel our darkness. The ministers here and I fall at your feet and beg of you. Do not
refuse, O, brother!"