II
Now King Dasaratha was very aged, and the burden of kingship weighed heavy on him. He was fain, therefore, to install his well-beloved Rama as heir and regent. This proposal brought joy to the hearts of all, nor did even Kaikeyi and Sumitra seek preference for their own sons, so dear to all had Rama made himself by his matchless skill in war, his gentleness and love of justice, his sympathy with the people, and other godlike virtues.
So the king's priests were bidden to make preparations for the joyful ceremony. The royal elephant, the tiger-skin, and white umbrella, were all in readiness, together with money for largesse, and stores of food for the people and guests, and all bade fair to turn out prosperously. But Dasaratha was ill at ease; his rest was troubled by frightful dreams, and the omens were evil. The great rite was appointed for a day which, it was thought, must surely be auspicious for Rama; and for this day the prince and Sita were bidden to prepare themselves by fasting and a night spent on a humble bed of sacred grass. The saint Vasishtha came to guide the fasting and meditation; after which Rama spent the night as directed, until but one watch of it remained. Then he arose and bathed, and, having had his house adorned, went forth, clad in a silken garment, to meet the duties of the memorable day. But memorable it was to be far otherwise than he or Ayodhya's citizens thought.
It chanced that among Kaikeyi's train was a humpbacked maid named Manthara, brought up
