The minister felt in his heart agony as terrible as that of a virtuous and discreet lady of high birth who is devoted to her lord in thought, word and deed and who is compelled by evil destiny to live apart from her husband. His eyes were full of tears and lacking in vision, his ears deaf and his mind was agitated and confused. Nay, his lips were getting dry and his tongue had cleaved to the palate; yet his life-breath did not depart, the term of exile serving as a door to prevent its departure from his heart. He had turned pale and repelled the sight as if he had murdered his own father and mother. Great was the despondency which preyed upon his mind as a result of the loss he had just suffered; he looked like a sinner mourning while on his way to the abode of Death. Words failed him and he lamented within himself: “What shall I see on 480 * ÝR” RMACARITAMNASA* reaching AyodhyŒ? Whoever shall find the chariot devoid of RŒma will shun my sight.” (1—4)