भद्रेण पौरापवादनिवेदनम्

Rāma was sitting in the middle chamber of the palace, and around him, on every side, gathered his companions: clever men who told stories of every kind and knew how to make people laugh. Their names were Vijaya, Madhumatta, Kāśyapa, Maṅgala, Kula, Surāji, Kāliya, Bhadra, Dantavaktra and Sumāgadha, and in high spirits they told the great-souled Rāghava tale after tale, full of humour. A circle of such entertaining friends about the king was an old royal custom, and in their stories the news of the kingdom would come up in passing. So it did now. In the course of one story Rāghava turned to Bhadra and asked him what was being said in the city and in the countryside. What did the people of town and country say about him? What did they say about Sītā, about Bharata, Lakṣmaṇa and Śatrughna, and about his mother Kaikeyī? For kings, he said, become the subject of talk, in the forest as much as on the throne; their virtues and their faults are discussed everywhere. Rāma's question is part of a king's duty: he must learn what the people think, through spies and through friends, before he can govern well. And he asks not only about himself but about every member of his family, because the conduct of each of them reflects on the king's good name or his disgrace. Even Kaikeyī he names with respect as "my mother". The names of these friends are worth remembering: they were not ministers or generals but the king's intimates, companions of his leisure, and it was from their mouths that he could hear the truth, for they went about freely among the people and heard what the people said.

Bhadra joined his palms and answered that the talk among the citizens was all favourable. What the people spoke of more than anything, he said, was the victory Rāma had won by killing Daśagrīva. At first, then, he offered only praise and kept back what was unwelcome, as a servant naturally hesitates to do. But Rāma was not satisfied. He told Bhadra to tell him everything just as it was, leaving nothing out: what good things and what bad things were the townsfolk saying? Once he had heard, he would do what was good and refrain from what was bad. "Speak freely," he said, "without fear and without anxiety. Tell me what the citizens are saying, and the wicked in the countryside too." Rāma's purpose was plain: to learn what the people thought so that he could correct his own conduct. He wanted to hear not praise but fault, and this is the mark of the ideal king. With the word "without fear" he gave the speaker a promise of safety: whoever told him something unwelcome would not be punished. And by naming even the wicked he showed that a king must know what everyone thinks, the bad as well as the good. It is well known how hard it is to speak the truth before a king, and so Rāma reassured Bhadra again and again, telling him to be free, fearless and untroubled. In doing so he opened the way to the truth, and to his own grief. Thus urged, Bhadra, with joined palms and his whole mind collected, gave the mighty-armed Rāma his answer in well-chosen words. That he was now so collected shows how grave the moment was: the jester was about to speak in earnest.

"Hear, O king," he said, "the good and the bad that the citizens say at the crossroads, in the markets and in the streets, in the forests and the groves. They say that Rāma has done a hard thing in bridging the ocean, a thing never heard of among those of old, not even among the gods and the dānavas. The invincible Rāvaṇa has been killed with his army and his mounts, and the monkeys and bears have been brought under Rāma's sway together with the rākṣasas. And having killed Rāvaṇa in battle and recovered Sītā, Rāghava has put his resentment behind him and brought her back into his own house." Here, straight after the praise, the reproach began. "What sort of joy can he feel in his heart in his union with Sītā," the people ask, "when Rāvaṇa once took her on his lap and carried her off by force, took her to Laṅkā, kept her in the Aśoka grove, and she fell into the power of the rākṣasas? How is it that Rāma does not despise her? Now we too shall have to put up with the same thing in our own wives, for as the king acts, so his subjects follow." "In this way, O king," Bhadra ended, "the townsfolk say many things, in all the cities and in the countryside." The citizens' objection is not aimed directly at Sītā's character but at the king's example: what the king tolerates the people will tolerate too, and the bounds that hold society together will slacken. That fear is what will lie at the root of Rāma's decision. "As the king acts, so the subjects follow" is a well-known maxim of statecraft. The citizens fully acknowledge Rāma's valour; their doubt concerns only his forbearance. They knew nothing of Sītā's ordeal by fire, for that took place in Laṅkā, before the gods, and not in Ayodhyā. Bhadra's report was skilfully made: first praise for the bridge and for Rāvaṇa's death, then the slander, so that the unpleasant truth came wrapped in something pleasant. And the people's question, what joy he could feel in his heart, was a charge against Rāma's own inner life as well.

When he heard Bhadra say this, Rāghava was like a man in the deepest distress. Yet he would not settle the matter on one man's word; he asked all his friends for their testimony. "How is this?" he said. "Tell me." All of them bowed their heads to the ground, saluted him and bowed low, and said to the stricken Rāghava, "It is so, beyond doubt." Their bowing spoke of their sorrow, and of a plea to be forgiven for bringing him unwelcome news. When he had heard what they all said, Kākutstha, destroyer of his foes, dismissed his companions. At the end of the sarga Rāma is left alone, and the weight of the decision is his alone. The words "as one in deep distress" show that he was tormented within while he kept his composure outwardly, and the friends' word for him, "stricken", shows his grief as they saw it. This sarga is the doorway to the story of Sītā's abandonment. If even his friends said "It is so", then the slander had certainly spread everywhere. And so in the next sarga Rāma summons his brothers and makes his decision known before them.