Manthara, the hunchbacked attendant, entered Queen Kaikeyi’s chambers with urgency and distress. “O queen,” she began, her voice trembling, “a great and unending calamity has begun for you: King Dasharatha intends to anoint Rama as crown prince.” Manthara’s words spilled forth, her face clouded with fear and sorrow. “I am plunged in deep fear, filled with grief and burning as if by fire. I have come here for your welfare, for your sorrow is my sorrow, your decline is my decline, and your prosperity is mine—of this there is no doubt.” She looked intently at Kaikeyi, “You, born into royalty and chief among the king’s wives, how is it that you do not grasp the severity of royal duties? Your husband, though he speaks of righteousness, is deceitful; his words are gentle, but his nature is harsh. You, with your pure heart, trust him, and thus you have been thoroughly deceived. Now he approaches you with empty consolations, but in truth, today your husband will unite Kausalya with prosperity.” Manthara’s agitation grew as she continued, “That wicked-hearted man, having removed Bharata from among your kin, will soon install Rama in the kingdom, with all obstacles destroyed. An enemy, under the guise of a husband, and a mother who claims to wish well, is like a venomous serpent embraced by a child—so have you been held. Just as an enemy or a neglected serpent would act, so today King Dasharatha has treated you and your son.” She pressed further, “O naive one, accustomed always to comfort, you have been destroyed along with your kin by the sinful one who, with false soothing words, is placing Rama on the throne. Therefore, Kaikeyi, act quickly for your own good at this opportune time; save your son, yourself, and me, who am witnessing this with astonishment.” Hearing Manthara’s words, Queen Kaikeyi, her beautiful face radiant, rose from her bed, filled with joy like the crescent moon in autumn. She was exceedingly pleased and, in her delight, gave Manthara a splendid divine ornament. Having done so, Kaikeyi spoke again, her voice warm: “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.” She continued, “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.” But Manthara, envious and distressed, cast aside the ornament, her anger and sorrow mounting. She spoke sharply, “Why have you, foolish one, rejoiced without cause? Do you not realize that you are in the midst of 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?” Manthara lamented Kaikeyi’s 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.” She explained, “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.” Manthara’s voice grew bitter, “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.” Despite Manthara’s agitation, Queen Kaikeyi, filled with supreme satisfaction, 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?” Kaikeyi continued, “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 was deeply distressed. She sighed long and hot, and spoke with urgency, “Because of your foolishness, you do not see misfortune, nor do you understand yourself, sinking in a sea of sorrow and calamity. Raghava will become king, and his son after him; but Bharata, O Kaikeyi, will be cast aside from the royal line. For, O beautiful one, not all the king’s sons remain in the kingdom; if all were installed, there would be great disorder.” Thus, Manthara’s counsel, filled with fear and bitterness, confronted Kaikeyi’s joy and faith in Rama, setting the stage for the tumult to come in the royal house of Ayodhya.