श्वेतराजस्य आत्मकथा आभरणदानं च

Agastya said: "When he had heard my words, Rāma, spoken in gracious syllables, the heaven-dweller joined his palms and answered me, joy of the Raghus: 'Hear, brahmin, this old story of my joys and my sorrows; what you ask of me I may not refuse. Long ago my father was king of Vidarbha, the famous Sudeva, renowned in the three worlds and full of valour. Two sons were born to him by two wives: I, known as Śveta, and the younger, Suratha. When my father had gone to heaven the citizens consecrated me king, and there I ruled a righteous kingdom with a collected mind. So a thousand years went by, man of good vows, while I governed the realm and protected the people by dharma.'" The heaven-dweller takes Agastya's question as something he cannot refuse, for a sage's bidding is not to be set aside; that is his humility. Śveta had been a model king, consecrated by the citizens, guarding his people by dharma, composed in mind. The reader therefore understands that the suffering which followed came from some flaw in his deeds, not from any wrongdoing as a ruler. Agastya is repeating to Rāma exactly what the heaven-dweller told him, so three voices speak in this sarga: Vālmīki, Agastya and Śveta. By "my joys and sorrows" Śveta points to the two halves of his life, happiness as a king and sorrow even in heaven. The mention of Sudeva's two wives and two sons introduces the family; his consecration by the will of the citizens shows how loved he was, and a reign of a thousand years is proof of his devotion to dharma.

"'Then, best of brahmins, learning by some sign how long my life would last, I laid the law of death to heart and went to the forest. I entered this impassable forest, empty of beasts and birds, to practise austerity by this lovely lake. I consecrated my brother Suratha as king in my place, came to this lake and practised austerity here for a long time. For three thousand years I carried out the most arduous austerities in this great forest, and so I reached the unsurpassed world of Brahmā.'" Knowing that death was near, Śveta gave up his kingdom of his own accord, following the ancient custom of royal seers; "laying the law of death to heart" means that he began his austerities with death before his mind. Here the mystery of the previous sarga begins to open: the corpse in the lake was his own former body, and the deserted hermitage was the place of his austerities. Three thousand years of penance is hard indeed, and its fruit was Brahmā's world, the highest of all. The sequence, giving up the kingdom, consecrating a brother, living in the forest, practising austerity, even bears some likeness to Rāma's own life, for he too left a kingdom and went to the forest.

"'But when I had reached heaven, best of brahmins, hunger and thirst tormented me, and so, my senses in anguish, I went to the Grandsire, best in the three worlds, and said: "Lord, this world of Brahmā knows neither hunger nor thirst, yet hunger and thirst pursue me. Of what deed is this the ripening? And what is to be my food, O god? Tell me that, Grandsire." The Grandsire answered: "Son of Sudeva, your food is your own sweet flesh; eat it always. While you practised the highest austerity it was only your own body you nourished; and what is not sown never grows, wise Śveta. You gave nothing, not even a trifle; you pursued austerity alone. That is why, child, though you have reached heaven, hunger and thirst torment you. So eat your own matchless body, well fed and sweet as nectar, and live on that. But when the great seer Agastya, the unassailable, comes to that forest, you will be freed from this hardship. He could save even the hosts of the gods, gentle one; how much more you, mighty one, who have fallen into the grip of hunger and thirst."'" The heart of this passage is "what is not sown never grows": without seed there is no harvest. Austerity without giving wins heaven but not satisfaction. Śveta's question was fair, since hunger and thirst do not exist in Brahmā's world, so how could he feel them? The Grandsire's answer is a plain illustration of the law of deeds: austerity earns merit, but enjoyment comes only from giving, and one who gives nothing receives nothing even in heaven. So his food is his own body, the very body he fed so well while he did penance. The sentence seems cruel, yet justice lies at its root, and the Grandsire joins hope to it, naming Agastya as the way to release. Agastya's greatness shines in the words "he could save even the hosts of the gods", which recall what Agastya had himself said about Rāma in the sarga before. "Son of Sudeva" names the son by his father. The worth of giving is the centre of the whole tale.

"'Having heard the decree of the lord, the god of gods, best of brahmins, I make my own body my loathsome food. For many years I have eaten it, brahmin seer, yet it never wastes away, and my satisfaction is complete. Release me from this distress into which I have fallen; there is no refuge here but you, the pot-born brahmin. Accept this ornament, gentle one, best of brahmins, for my deliverance; blessings on you, grant me this favour. This ornament yields gold and wealth, garments, food of every kind, and more ornaments besides; I offer you every desire and every enjoyment, bull among sages. Holy one, grant me the favour of setting me free.'" That the body does not waste away though it is eaten is what makes the punishment endless. Śveta's statement that Agastya is his only refuge agrees with the Grandsire's words: he knew the sage as his deliverer as soon as he saw him, since the Grandsire had named him. He wants to give the ornament because only by giving can his fault be quieted; the lavish list of what it yields shows the lack of giving in his past now being made good. Agastya's acceptance is a kindness to Śveta, not greed on the sage's part; in this way the one who receives a gift also serves the giver.

"Hearing the heaven-dweller's sorrowful words, I accepted that excellent ornament to set him free. The moment I took that auspicious ornament, the royal seer's former human body perished, and with his body gone the royal seer, satisfied and filled with the highest joy, went happily to heaven. That, Kākutstha, is how this divine ornament of wonderful aspect came to be given to me by one equal to Śakra, on that occasion." With this Agastya finishes answering the question Rāma had put to him in the previous sarga. A gift is fulfilled only when it is received; until someone accepts it, the giving is not complete, and so Agastya takes it out of compassion. The link to what went before is clear: Agastya had said that giving again what has been given brings a very great reward, and now he has given that same ornament on to Rāma. The destruction of the human body ends Śveta's bondage, and he goes to heaven now in a pure, divine form.