e) why a
monkey of such marvellous power and prowess had not easily overcome Bali
and secured the throne for his friend Sugriva. Agastya replies that
Hanuman was at that time under a curse from a Rishi, and consequently was
not conscious of his own might."(1034) The whole story of the marvellous
Vanar is here given at length, but nothing else of importance is added to
the tale already given in the Ramayana. The Rishis or saints then (Sect.
XL.) return to their celestial seats, and the Vanars, Rakshases and bears
also (Sect. XLIII.) take their departure. The chariot Pushpak is restored
to its original owner Kuvera, as has already been related in the Ramayan.

The story of Rama and Sita is then continued, and we meet with matter of
more human interest. The winter is past and the pleasant spring-time is
come, and Rama and Sita sit together in the shade of the Asoka trees happy
as Indra and Sachi when they drink in Paradise the nectar of the Gods.
"Tell me, my beloved," says Rama, "for thou wilt soon be a mother, hast
thou a wish in thy heart for me to gratify?" And Sita smiles and answers:
"I long, O son of Raghu, to visit the pure and holy hermitages on the
banks of the Ganges and to venerate the feet of the saints who there
perform their rigid austerities and live on roots and berries. This is my
chief desire, to stand within the hermits' grove were it but for a single
day." And Rama said: "Let not the thought trouble thee: thou shalt go to
the grove of the ascetics." But slanderous tongues have been busy in
Ayodhya, and Sita has not been spared. Rama hears that the people are
lamenting his blind folly in taking back to his bosom the wife who was so
long a captive in the palace of Ravan. Rama well knows her spotless purity
in thought, word, and deed, and her perfect love of him; but he cannot
endure the mockery and the shame and resolves to abandon his unsuspecting
wife. He orders the sad but still obedient Lakshman to convey her to the
hermitage which she wishes to visit and to leave her there, for he will
see her face again no more. They arrive at the hermitage, and Lakshman
tells her all. She falls fainting on the ground, and when she recovers her
consciousness sheds some natural tears and bewails her cruel and
undeserved lot. But she resolves to live for the sake of Rama and her
unborn son, and she sends by Lakshman a dignified message to the husband
who has forsaken her: "I grieve not for myself," she says "because I