Hanuman's grieving heart lauded Rama and Sita for their limitless qualities of virtue and his eyes filled with tears as he beheld Sita. Cherished by Rama, worshipped by Lakshmana, bound by an inexorable fate he saw her striving to endure the storm of her woes. The chaste daughter of Janaka celestially beautiful and glowing like molten gold she was like the very goddess Lakshmi. Meditating upon Rama who was far away she was confident that he would some day rescue her. Robbed of her bliss and prisoner of her demon guard Sita avoided looking at them, with their evil eyes and wicked ways. 'How can Sita bear such sorrow' fumed Hanuman, 'If the blood of fourteen thousand rakshasas soaked the floor of Janasthana, if many evil forces like Viradha were slain, if Vali perished, all because of Rama they deserved it! He did so, for the sake of his lotus- eyed consort. Even if Rama were to devastate the very earth with it's many worlds and oceans he would be justified. When I, who am only an intermediary can feel such pain at the plight of this beautiful lady, how much more will be Rama's?' Certain that it was Sita, whom he was beholding, Hanuman sat sorrowfully among the dense foliage of the Simsapa.