इलाबुधदर्शनं किंपुरुषीसृष्टिश्च

When they heard the story of Ila told by Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Bharata were utterly astonished. Joining their palms, they asked Rāma to tell them more fully about that great king's condition: "How did the king live when he had become a woman and fallen into such straits? And when he is a man, what kind of life does he lead?" Hearing their eager question, Kākutstha told them how it had gone with that king. "For that first month the lotus-eyed Ilā, now a woman and the beauty of the world, surrounded by the women who had once been her followers, quickly plunged into a forest thick with trees, shrubs and creepers and roamed it on foot. She left all her mounts behind and took her pleasure in the wide hollows among the mountains." The brothers' question is natural: how can one person live two kinds of life? Rāma answers it step by step. Ilā wanders on foot and leaves her mounts behind, giving up a king's grandeur; as a woman she has forgotten her kingship, just as Umā's boon provided. Her followers too are women, so she is not alone. In this sarga Bharata and Lakṣmaṇa are the listeners and Rāma the speaker, whereas in the two sargas before Lakṣmaṇa had been the speaker; the brothers' conversation moves forward by an exchange of stories. Ilā's wandering in the forest is carefree, for she does not remember her former form and so feels no sorrow; that is the fruit of Umā's boon. The phrase "beauty of the world" is used twice, to press home how surpassing her loveliness was.

"Now in that woodland, not far from the mountain, there was a lake of lovely aspect, alive with flocks of many kinds of birds. There Ilā saw Budha, the son of Soma, blazing in his own form like the full moon newly risen, practising fierce austerity in the midst of the water: hard to approach, a bringer of fame and a fulfiller of desire, in the prime of youth. Amazed, she and the companions who had once been men stirred up the whole lake, joy of the Raghus." Budha is the son of Soma, the moon, and radiant as the full moon. His lake lay outside the bounds within which Śiva's command had turned all creatures female, and so Budha had remained a man. Ilā's play in the water with her companions disturbs Budha's penance, and this sets off all that follows. Budha is described in four ways: in radiance like the full moon, in austerity hard to approach, in virtue a bringer of fame, in age young. The poet suggests that only such a man is a fit match for Ilā. Her amazement is natural too, meeting a divine ascetic in an empty forest. The stirring of the water outside mirrors the stirring of Budha's mind within, a likeness the poet draws with delicacy.

"But the moment Budha saw her he fell under the power of love's arrows; he could no longer master himself, and he trembled there in the water. As he gazed at Ilā, lovelier than anything in the three worlds, his mind was wholly carried away. 'Who can she be, surpassing the goddesses?' he thought. 'Among goddesses, Nāga women, asura women or apsarases I have never before seen anyone so adorned with beauty. If she does not already belong to another, she would be a fit match for me.' With his mind made up, he came out of the water onto the shore. The righteous sage went to his hermitage and called those excellent women, and they paid him homage. Then he asked them: 'Whose is this beauty of the world, and why has she come here? Tell me everything, quickly.' Hearing his gracious words, sweet and sweetly spoken, the women all answered in sweet voices: 'This lovely lady has always been our mistress. She has no husband, and she roams the forests with us.'" Even Budha's desire keeps within the bounds of dharma: his first thought is whether she already belongs to another, for he will not want another man's wife. He does not question Ilā directly but asks her companions, which is courtesy. The women's answer is true but incomplete; they say nothing of Ila's manhood, because they too have no memory of it. His astonishment is put in hyperbole, that no goddess or apsaras was ever so beautiful. The poet tells plainly how even an ascetic falls under love's sway, yet Budha's conduct stays seemly: he goes back to his own hermitage before summoning the women, rather than calling them in the water. And the answer that she has no husband is a good omen for him.

"Hearing the women's words, the brahmin called to mind the holy science of recollection. When that bull among sages had learned the whole truth about the king, exactly as it was, he said to all the women: 'Become Kimpuruṣa women and live here on the mountain slope; make your home on this mountain at once. You shall all live always on roots, leaves and fruits, and you shall find husbands called Kimpuruṣas.' Hearing the words of Soma's son, those many young women, now made Kimpuruṣīs, went to live on the mountain." By the science of recollection, a lore that brings the past back into view, Budha learns Ila's former story. He sends Ilā's companions away, so that she will remain alone near him. Here the origin of the race of the Kimpuruṣas is told. The union of Ilā and Budha is described in the next sarga. Budha's command seems harsh, yet he provides for the women too, with a home, food and husbands, and so Ilā's former followers also receive a new life. The science of recollection deserves notice: it makes the past present again, and Budha knows the truth by knowledge, not merely by the women's word. His knowledge is the ground of his decision.