favourite queen.

news to Kaikeyí, and threw the favourite beauty CHAPTER I. into a vindictive fury, which is only conceivable in Violence of the such a hot-bed of jealousy as an oriental zenana. Kaikey threw off all her jewels and ornaments, and scattered them over the floor. She then untied her long black hair, and dishevelled it over her shoulders, and cast herself upon the ground, and poured out a flood of tears.

succumbs to the

Meantime the old Maháraja, knowing that he had The Maharaja difficult news to communicate to his young and favourite. favourite wife, proceeded to her apartments in the vain hope of reconciling her to the appointment of Ráma. But when he saw her weeping and fainting upon the floor, he felt that he was powerless. She was deaf to all entreaties and explanations; and when he began to moan and wail she was heedless of all his affliction. Only one thing would content her, namely, that Ráma should be banished to the jungle, and that her own son Bharata should be appointed Yuvaraja. She cared not for the longestablished custom of the family, nor for the remonstrances of the great council, nor for the disappointment of the people in general. Ráma was to be exiled, and Bharata was to be installed. The result may be anticipated. The Maharaja was threatened and caressed by turns, until at last he yielded to the strong will and blandishments of the imperious beauty, and engaged that Ráma should be banished from the realm, and that Bharata should be enthroned in his room.

Next morning there was a scene. The city had Ráma's exile. been kept awake throughout the night by the joyful preparations for the installation of Ráma, whilst the country people had been pouring in from all the vil

CHAPTER I. lages round about to witness the imposing ceremony. Meantime the Maharaja had repented his promise of the previous night, and would gladly have escaped from its fulfilment; but Kaikey held him to her purpose, like a tigress caring only for her young. Ráma was summoned to the palace, but instead of hearing that he was appointed Yuvaraja, he was coldly told by Kaikeyí that he was to go into exile for fourteen years, and that Bharata was to fill the post. Ráma, however, bore the sudden and astounding news with all the self-repression of a trained Asiatic. He betrayed neither grief nor disappointment, but only professed his desire to obey the will of his father. He then carried the dreadful tidings to his mother Kausalya, who was almost broken-hearted by the shock. She had expected that her son would have ultimately become the Maharaja, whilst she herself exercised supreme dominion over the whole zenana. But the one hope of her life was shattered to the dust. Her beloved son was to be separated from her probably for ever; and she had nothing before her but a joyless widowhood, exposed to the taunts and triumphs of her younger rival. In her first exasperation she declared that the Maharaja had lost his senses; and she implored Ráma to take the initiative and place him in confinement, and assume the royal power. But Ráma refused to commit such an act of disobedience and disloyalty. He returned to his own house, and informed his wife Sítá of all that had occurred; and the young wife, as was only natural, received the intelligence in a widely different spirit from Kausalyá. She cared for no hardships and no privations, provided only that she might accompany

her husband into the jungle; and Ráma was at last CHAPTER I. induced to permit her to share his banishment. Lakshmana, a brother of Ráma, was also allowed to accompany the exiles.

exiles.

The narrative of the banishment would seem to imply that such catastrophes were by no means unfrequent in ancient time. The royal charioteer was Route of the ordered to drive the exiles to the frontier; and there they were well entertained by a Raja of the Bheels, named Guha, who seems to have been in friendly alliance with Kosala. The charioteer then returned to Ayodhya, whilst the exiles crossed the river Ganges to the southern bank. During the passage Sítá offered up a prayer to the river goddess for the safe return of her husband at the termination of his banishment; and she made a and she made a vow that if her prayers were answered, she would present the goddess with large offerings of flesh-meat and spirituous liquors. The exiles next proceeded to the hermitages of the Bráhmans at Prayága; the holy spot where the Ganges and Jumna form a junction. From Prayaga they crossed the Jumna, and Sítá repeated to the goddess of that river the prayers and vows which she had already offered to the Ganges. Finally, they took up their abode on the hill Chitra-kúta in Bundelkund, where they dwelt for many days in a hut constructed of trees and leaves.

Before Ráma reached Chitra-kúta, his aged father Dasaratha had expired from grief in his palace at Ayodhya. The event is related with many striking incidents illustrative of ancient Hindú civilization. It transpired in the apartments of the first queen Kausalya. At midnight the old Maháraja

Death of the
Maharaja.

CHAPTER I. found that his soul was departing to the abode of Yama; and he yielded up the ghost with a longing cry for his exiled son. The queen was so affected by the shock that she fell into a deep swoon, which continued throughout the night. Early morning dawned, and the ordinary life of the palace commenced as usual. The servants, male and female, were bringing in water and perfumes, as well as the early morning refreshment which is so general throughout India. Bards and eulogists, according to custom, were singing the praises of the Maháraja. The appearance of the sovereign was expected every moment, for no one was conscious of the calamity that had occurred. At last the ladies of the zenana proceeded to awaken the Maháraja; and then they found that he was dead in the chamber of Kausalyá. At once the palace resounded with their shrieks and screams. The fatal news spread throughout the royal household that the sovereign was no more. The utmost confusion and excitement broke up the calm of early morning. The ministers of state hurried to the chamber, and confirmed the fatal tidings. Maharaja Dasaratha had breathed his last.

The circumstances which followed furnish a glimpse of the political life in the old empire of Kosala. Neither of the sons of the deceased Maháraja was present at Ayodhya. Bharata had gone to the city of his grandfather, accompanied by one of his brothers; and Ráma had gone into exile with the remaining brother. Consequently it was necessary to defer the funeral ceremony until it could be conducted by the son who was to succeed to the throne. For this purpose the remains of the deceased Maharaja were placed for preservation in a

council.

large cauldron of oil. The council was assembled CHAPTER I. on the following day, and the nomination of the The great deceased Maharaja was accepted. The exile of Ráma was considered to disqualify him for succeeding to the throne; and messengers were sent to bring Bharata to Ayodhya with all speed.

for the Maha

Bharata hastened to the capital, but on his arrival he is said to have refused to ascend the throne to the exclusion of his elder brother. Before this point could be settled, it was necessary that he should superintend the burning of the royal remains, and perform the thirteen days of mourning. The body Funeral rites of the deceased Maháraja was placed upon a litter, raja. and covered with garlands, and sprinkled with incense. The funeral procession then moved slowly along to the place of burning without the city. First walked the bards and eulogists, chanting the praises of the deceased Maháraja in melancholy strains. Next appeared the royal widows on foot, with their long black hair dishevelled over their shoulders, shrieking and screaming as they moved along. Next came the royal litter borne by the servants of the Maháraja, with the sacred fire ever burning; whilst the insignia of royalty were held over the royal corpse,-the white umbrella of sovereignty, and the jewelled chamaras of hair waving to and fro. Bharata and his brother walked close behind, weeping very bitterly, and holding on to the litter with their hands. Other servants followed in chariots, and distributed funeral gifts amongst the surrounding multitude. The place of burning was a desolate spot on the bank of the river Sarayú. There the funeral pile was prepared, and the royal corpse was reverently placed thereon;