Bowing his head at Ýr¶ RŒma’s feet he exclaimed with joined palms, “My lord, I am not at all to blame (for what I have done). Exceedingly powerful, O Lord, is Your MŒyŒ (deluding potency), which withdraws itself only when You, O RŒma, show Your grace to a J¶va. Gods, men and sages, my master, are all slaves of their senses; while I am a vile brute and a monkey, the most libidinous of animals. A man who is not pierced by the shaft of a woman’s glances, nay, who remains wakeful even in the dark night of anger (who is not swayed by passion) and who is never caught in the meshes of greed, is as good as Yourself, O Lord of Raghus. It is a virtue which cannot be attained by personal endeavour; it is only by Your grace that one here and one there can acquire it.” Thereupon the Lord of Raghus smiled and said: “Brother, you are dear to me as Bharata. Now with all your heart make some organized effort whereby we may get tidings of S¶tŒ.” (1—4)