Ramayana 3.270

"No words have I to answer now: My deity, O Queen, art thou. But 'tis no marvel, dame, to find Such lack of sense in womankind. Throughout this world, O Maithil dame, Weak women's hearts are still the same. Inconstant, urged by envious spite, They sever friends and hate the right. I cannot brook, Videhan Queen, Thy words intolerably keen. Mine ears thy fierce reproaches pain As boiling water seethes the brain. And now to bear me witness all The dwellers in the wood I call, That, when with words of truth I plead, This harsh reply is all my meed. Ah, woe is thee! Ah, grief, that still Eager to do my brother's will, Mourning thy woman's nature, I Must see thee doubt my truth and die. I fly to Rama's side, and Oh, May bliss attend thee while I go! May all attendant wood-gods screen Thy head from harm, O large-eyed Queen! And though dire omens meet my sight And fill my soul with wild affright, May I return in peace and see The son of Raghu safe with thee!"