Verse 8

⁴For his father's sake he gave up the kingdom and went from forest to forest on lotus feet that could not bear even the touch of his beloved's hand; the lord of the monkeys and his own younger brother rubbed the ache of the road away. When Surpanakha was disfigured, his brow rose in anger at his beloved's loss and the ocean shook, and he bound a bridge across it. He is a wildfire burning the wicked. May the lord of Kosala keep us. ⁵It was he who at Visvamitra's sacrifice killed Marica and the other night-walkers, the best of the raksasas, with Laksmana himself looking on. ⁶In the gathering of the world's heroes, in the hall where Sita was to choose, he took up Siva's terrible bow, which three hundred men had carried in, and strung it and drew it and broke it across the middle, king, as a young elephant plays with a stalk of sugarcane.

⁷He won her, Sri under the name of Sita, whose merit and character and years and body matched his own, and who had earned her place on his chest. Going on his way he brought down the grown pride of the lord of the Bhrgus, who had three times made the earth empty of the seed of kings. ⁸His father was tied in the noose of his own truth and bound to a woman, and he took that father's order on his head. With his wife he left kingdom, wealth, those who loved him, his friends and his house, and went to the forest as a man lets go of his own breath, clinging to nothing.