Sita's Svayamvara and Her Marriage to Rama

Narada, who could not pass a moment without telling of Rama's glory, heard that Janaka meant to give Sita to Rama and, curious to see her, came to her palace; Sita, gazing into a mirror, saw his matted locks reflected behind her, cried ‘Mother, who is this?’ and fled trembling into the inner rooms. When Narada followed, the doorkeepers stopped him and a quarrel broke out, armed retainers rushed up shouting ‘Seize him, seize him!’, and Narada flew off through the sky to Mount Kailasha.

Trembling and sweating, Narada fumed that he had gone in all innocence out of love for Rama yet had barely escaped with his life, and vowed to bring the girl into trouble wherever she went. He flew to Rathanupura on the southern row of Mount Vijayardha, painted a lifelike portrait of Sita on a canvas, dropped it where Bhamandala, son of the Vidyadhara Chandragati, was playing in a garden with many princes, and hid.

Not knowing it was his own sister, Bhamandala fell helplessly in love: he forgot shame, scripture and learning, sighed long, his lips dried and his limbs grew slack, he could not sleep, and perfumes, flowers and fine food tasted like poison, so that he behaved as if possessed, now silent, now laughing, now babbling. The wise concluded that someone had dropped a maiden's portrait near him, perhaps Narada himself.

Later Janaka asked for a swift horse, and his servants brought one that was in truth an illusion; the moment he mounted, it flew off into the sky with him while his family and citizens returned weeping to the city, and, swift as thought, it bore him over rivers, mountains and lands to Rathanupura, where Janaka caught hold of a tree branch near the city and let the horse go on. Sword in hand and fearless as a lion, he passed a golden rampart and jewelled gateways into a lovely garden, and in its Jina temple, adorned with pearl festoons and thousands of golden manastambhas (pillars of glory), he fainted with devotion before a golden image of the Jina seated in the lotus posture with the eight pratiharyas (divine splendours) and, reviving, sang its praises.

The Vidyadhara Chapalavega, who had taken the form of the horse, resumed his own shape and told King Chandragati that he had brought Janaka, who was sitting in the temple of the lovely garden; overjoyed, Chandragati came with a few attendants and offerings while his Vidyadharas rode on magic lions, elephants, horses and swans, and Janaka, somewhat afraid at the sight and the music, hid beneath the Jina's throne. Chandragati worshipped and, playing a vina (lute), sang the Jina's praises and urged all beings to bow to Lord Rishabhadeva; then Janaka came out, the two kings embraced and sat on one seat, and Chandragati asked for Sita, of whose auspicious marks he had heard so much, as a bride for his son Bhamandala.

Janaka replied that he had already resolved to give his daughter to Rama, Dasharatha's eldest son, and told how Rama, with his younger brother Lakshmana, had saved him, his brother and his people from the Mlecchas of Ardhabarbara, whom even gods could not subdue; unable to repay such a debt, he had found peace only in deciding to give Sita to Rama. Chandragati's Vidyadharas sneered that earth-dwellers (bhumigocharis, people without magical sciences) were wretched, powerless and no better than beasts, that beating mere Mlecchas proved nothing, and that he should ally instead with Chandragati, an Indra among Vidyadharas.

Janaka answered that the vast ocean of milk cannot quench thirst while a small well of sweet water does, that a little lamp reveals what darkness hides, and that a lion cub does what many elephants cannot; Tirthankaras, chakravartis, baladevas and narayanas are all born among earth-dwellers, only earth-dwellers receive the five auspicious events (panch kalyanaka) of a Tirthankara's life, and as for flying, even crows can fly. In the Ikshvaku line of Rishabhadeva, he said, many kings had ruled the six-part earth, among them the mighty Anaranya, whose son by Queen Sumangala is Dasharatha, husband of four chief queens and five hundred other queens and father of Rama, also called Padma, and of Lakshmana.

After conferring in private, the Vidyadharas set a test: they had two bows, Vajravarta and Sagaravarta, attended by gods, and if Rama could string Vajravarta he might wed Sita, but otherwise they would carry her off by force while Janaka looked on; Janaka, helpless, agreed. After worshipping the Jina, they went with Janaka to Mithila carrying the bows along with divine jewels such as the mace and the plough, built an armoury outside the city and stayed there in great pride, while Chandragati returned to Rathanupura.

Janaka, eating little, lay sighing on his bed until Queen Videha asked what heavenly beauty had stolen his heart; he told her everything, adding that the bows blazed with flames in all directions, that illusory serpents hissed around them and that they roared of themselves, that not even Indra could string them, and that only twenty days remained before the trial. Videha wept, her old grief for her stolen son revived along with the fear of losing her daughter, until Janaka consoled her that the fruit of past karma must be borne and that good karma was now rising.

Janaka raised a svayamvara pavilion beside the armoury and invited princes from everywhere, and Rama and his three brothers came from Ayodhya with their parents, while Sita stood on a palace terrace among seven hundred maidens, guarded by great vassals. A learned old chamberlain with a golden cane presented each suitor to her: Rama, Lakshmana, Bharata and Shatrughna, then princes such as Harivahana, Chitraratha, Haramukha, Shrisanjaya, Bhanu, Jaya, Suprabha, Mandira, Budha, Vishala, Shridhara, Vira, Bandhu, Bhadrabala and Mayurakumara, and the kings of Sankashapura, Surapura, Rudrapura, Nandanapura, Kundapura, Magadha and Kampilya, of the Ikshvaku, Naga, Ugra, Soma and Hari lineages, telling her to garland whoever could string Vajravarta.

One by one the princes approached the bow, around which flames flashed like lightning and illusory serpents hissed: some fled with their hands over their ears, some stood far off trembling with their eyes shut, some fell in fever or fainted, some were blown about like dry leaves by the snakes' breath, some vowed great gifts and fearlessness to all beings if they got home alive, some declared no maiden worth their life or blamed a Vidyadhara's trickery, and some fortunate ones renounced queens altogether and took the vow of chastity.

Then Rama approached with the stately gait of a rutting elephant, and at his presence the bow lost its flames and grew gentle as a heavenly gem, as a pupil grows calm before his guru; he took it up, strung it and drew it with a thunderous roar that shook the earth and set peacocks dancing, gods cried ‘Blessed, blessed!’ and rained flowers, and, seeing the people afraid, he compassionately unstrung it. Sita, who had garlanded him in her heart at first sight, now for custom's sake placed a jewelled garland around his neck and stood beside him with bowed head, as compassion abides beside the Jain dharma.

Lakshmana then strung the second bow, Sagaravarta, whose voice was like the ocean; the earth shook, gods cheered and rained flowers, and when people took fright as he eyed an arrow, he unstrung it and humbly returned to Rama's side. Delighted by his prowess, Chandravardhana, the Vidyadhara sent by Chandragati, gave Lakshmana eighteen Vidyadhara princesses in marriage; the brothers came to their father with the bows and with Sita, and the Vidyadharas went back with Chandravardhana to Rathanupura and told Chandragati everything, leaving him anxious.

Bharata, also present, reflected that though he shared their lineage and father he lacked Rama and Lakshmana's merit and prowess, and that Sita, like Lakshmi herself, was fit only for Rama; his mother Kaikeyi, skilled in every art, read his dejection and whispered to Dasharatha to act before Bharata turned away from the world, proposing a second svayamvara for Lokasundari, daughter of Janaka's brother Kanaka and his queen Suprabha. At Dasharatha's request Kanaka recalled the kings, and the golden-hued Lokasundari, who had given Bharata her heart at first sight, placed a garland of jewelled flowers around his neck, as Subhadra had once garlanded Bharata Chakravarti, and the other kings went home disappointed.

Gautama remarked on the strange course of karma, by which even the detached Bharata was charmed by a princess. Mithila, decked with banners and arches and filled with fragrance and the sound of conches, celebrated the weddings of Rama and Sita and of Bharata and Lokasundari with gifts to the poor; the guest kings left honoured by Dasharatha, Janaka and Kanaka, and the four brothers brought Sita and Lokasundari home to Ayodhya in a grand procession, growing ever more humble as the crowds praised them, and lived joyfully in their palaces.