Upon hearing Kaikeyi’s gentle words, Manthara—clever in speech and burning with anger—responded with even greater dejection. Though she wished well for Kaikeyi, Manthara spoke in a way that would unsettle her, hoping to estrange her from Rama, the son of Dasharatha. “O queen,” Manthara began, “a great and unending calamity has dawned for you: King Dasharatha is about to anoint Rama as crown prince. I am gripped by deep fear, sorrow, and grief, as if scorched by fire, and I have come here for your welfare. Your sorrow will be my sorrow; your decline will be my decline, and your prosperity will be mine—of this, there is no doubt. You, born in a royal family and chief among the king’s wives, how is it that you do not grasp the gravity of royal duties? Your husband, though he speaks of righteousness, is two-faced; his words are gentle, but his nature is harsh. With your pure heart, you trust him, and so you have been thoroughly deceived. Now he comes to you with empty consolations, but in truth, today he will unite Kausalya with prosperity. That wicked-hearted man, having removed Bharata from your kin, will soon install Rama in the kingdom, clearing away all obstacles. An enemy disguised as a husband, and a mother who pretends to wish well, is like a venomous serpent embraced by a child—that is how you have been held. Just as an enemy or a neglected serpent would act, so today King Dasharatha has treated you and your son. O naive one, always accustomed to comfort, you and your kin have been ruined by the sinful one who, with false soothing words, is placing Rama on the throne. Therefore, Kaikeyi, act swiftly for your own good at this opportune time; save your son, yourself, and me, who am witnessing all this in astonishment.” Hearing Manthara’s words, Kaikeyi, beautiful-faced, rose from her bed, filled with joy, like the crescent moon in autumn. Exceedingly pleased and full of wonder, she gave Manthara a splendid divine ornament. After giving the ornament to Manthara, Kaikeyi, delighted, spoke again: “This most pleasing news you have told me, Manthara, is truly dear to me. Tell me what more I can do for you, since you have brought me such joy. I see no difference between Rama and Bharata; therefore, I am pleased that the king will anoint Rama as heir to the throne. There is no greater boon for me than this. You, who are worthy of affection, have spoken sweet and delightful words, like nectar. Since you have spoken thus, I grant you the highest and best boon—choose what you desire.” Listen now to the eighth chapter in the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, in the Ayodhya section. Manthara, envious, cast aside the ornament and, filled with anger and sorrow, spoke sharply: “Why have you, foolish one, rejoiced without cause? Do you not realize that you are surrounded by an ocean of sorrow? Though I am overwhelmed by grief, I restrain myself for your sake, O queen. Why are you joyful when you should be mourning, having encountered such great misfortune? I grieve for your lack of understanding. What wise woman would rejoice at the rise of a rival wife’s son, as if death itself had come? It is out of fear for Rama, not just for Bharata, regarding the sharing of the kingdom; having considered this, I am distressed, for fear arises from one who is afraid. For mighty-armed Lakshmana is wholly devoted to Rama, and likewise, Shatrughna is to Bharata as Lakshmana is to the scion of Kakutstha. Even though, O beautiful one, the succession should have come to Bharata by the order of proximity, the royal succession has been assigned to those two who are younger. Indeed, fortunate is Kausalya, whose son will be consecrated tomorrow as crown prince, under the Pushya constellation, by the foremost of Brahmanas. When the earth, filled with joy and confidence, is won and enemies are subdued, you will attend upon Kausalya with joined palms, like a servant. Thus, together with us, you will become her attendant, and your son will become a servant to Rama. Surely, Rama’s chief wives will be delighted, while your daughters-in-law will not rejoice at Bharata’s decline.” Seeing Manthara speak thus, filled with supreme satisfaction, Queen Kaikeyi praised only Rama’s virtues. “Rama, the eldest son of the king, knows righteousness, is virtuous, self-controlled, grateful, truthful, and pure; therefore, he deserves the succession. He, long-lived, will protect his brothers and servants like a father; so why, O hunchback, are you troubled upon hearing of Rama’s consecration? And surely, after a hundred years, Bharata too, the best of men, will obtain the kingdom of his father and grandfather from Rama. So, when prosperity has come and happiness is at hand, why, Manthara, do you burn within and grieve at this good fortune? Just as Bharata is honored, so too is Raghava even more; besides Kausalya, he serves me greatly. If the kingdom is Rama’s, it is also Bharata’s; for Raghava regards his brothers as himself.” Hearing Kaikeyi’s words, Manthara, deeply distressed, sighed long and hot, and spoke to Kaikeyi: “Because of your foolishness, you do not see misfortune, nor do you understand yourself, sinking in a sea of sorrow and calamity.