His plan was to massacre him and all his suite, to march on the unsuspecting city, and to make away with the King and all the Royal family.

The plot which had been kept a profound secret would have been quite successful had not the innate suspicions of the children of the tyrant enlightened the prince as to the danger which threatened him.

He saw the armed mob and at once perceived that he was about to be attacked and so instead of defending himself, he fled promptly, leaving a rich booty, the collection of which prevented pursuit by the conspirators. When they had satisfied their cupidity they marched on the capital which they had hoped to find defenceless. Pitracha however having heard of the danger into which his son had nearly fallen, at once sent out a force of 12,000 men to disperse the rabble.

The rebel priest at first was of good cheer but he led forces without courage or discipline as everything was to be feared and nothing could be hoped for. His little army panic-stricken melted away without striking a blow. Only 300 prisoners were taken and not more than 300 perished by the sword.

The Priest pretender wandered in the woods for several days with a young man who had remained faithful. He was found sleeping under a tree and was taken to Ayuthia where, chained to a post, he was exposed for several days to the contumely of the mob, and afterwards he was disembowelled and while still breathing saw his own entrails being devoured by dogs.

It seems that Pitracha did not enjoy the the throne for long, as his son succeeded in 1700. The first year of his reign was marked by a scandalous marriage with his father's widow who gave her hand but not her heart.

This Princess had an extraordinary career she was successively the wife of the father, the son and the grandson.

This victim of passion never reciprocated the love which she inspired in others and to separate herself from a husband whom she detested, retired to a convent where she died in 1715.

The new King, a prey to superstition and debauchery, surrendered himself entirely to the idolatrous priests, who, by their austerities, engaged to expiate his faults. Following his example, everyone built temples. Trade and manufactures languished and the populace given up to fantastic ceremonies no longer gave thought to the question of the defences of the State. The false gods had many worshippers and the State had no soldiers available for defence. Fortune favoured the kingdom as the neighbouring Kings were all engaged in war against each other and having too much on their hands at home, had no time to think of foreign aggression.

It was in this reign that the kingdom was visited by the scourge of famine. A long period of drought had converted the fertile soil into a barren dust. The rice, which is the staple food stuff, was soon exhausted; fish became scarce and poisonous. The water of the River naturally clear and limpid, suddenly became green and turbid.