Now Kaikeyi (Bharata’s mother) had a dull-witted handmaid, whose name was Manthara; her mind Sarasvati perverted and made her a receptacle of ill-repute, and then went her way.

When Manthara saw the city decorated and heard the loud sweet strains of festive music, she asked the people, ‘What mean these rejoicing?’ When she heard of Rama’s investiture, her heart was consumed with jealousy.

The evil-minded and low-born woman pondered how that very night the plan might be defeated, like a crafty Bhil woman who has seen a honeycomb hanging from a tree and lies in wait, scheming to get hold of it.

So she went sobbing to Bharata’s mother. ‘Why so sad?’ the queen smiled and said. She made no answer, but drew a deep sigh and, adopting the way of women, shed a flood of tears.

‘You are a most saucy girl,’ said the queen laughing, ‘and what I suspect is that Lakshmana has been teaching you a lesson!’ Even then the wicked handmaid uttered not a word, but merely hissed like some poisonous serpent.

Said the queen anxiously, ‘Why don’t you speak? Is all well with Rama and his royal father and Lakshmana, Bharata and Ripudamana (Shatrughna)?’ These words were a torment to the humpback’s heart.

‘‘Why should anyone, O mother, teach me a lesson? And on whose strength shall I be cheeky? Who should be happy today but Rama, whom the king is going to invest with regal powers? ‘‘Why should anyone, O mother, teach me a lesson? And on whose strength shall I be cheeky? Who should be happy today but Rama, whom the king is going to invest with regal powers?