Chenguza was now proclaimed an outlaw, and an armed force was detached to arrest him. But he had received timely notice of the fall of his administration, and, leaving all his court behind, escaped to Chagaing, were he was immediately besieged. Chenguza at first thought of defending himself; but finding that he was deserted by those on whom he placed his chief reliance, after a resistance of four days the resolution failed, and he determined on flying to the Cassay country, there to throw himself on the protection of the Munnipoora Raja. This intention he privately communicated to his mother, the widow of Shembuan Praw, who resided in his palace in the city of Ava. Instead of encouraging her son to persevere in so pusillanimous a resolve, she earnestly dissuaded him from flight; urging that it was far more glorious to die even by ignoble hands, within the precincts of his own palace, than to preserve life under the ignominious character of a mendicant fed by strangers, and indebted for a precarious asylum to a petty potentate. Chenguza yielded to his mother’s counsel, and preferring death to a disgraceful exile, caused a small boat to be privately prepared, and kept in readiness at the gaut or landing-place; disguising himself in the habit of a private gentleman, and attended only by two menials, he left Chagaing by break of day and embarking, rowed towards Ava, on the opposite shore. When the boat approached the principal gaut, at the foot of the walls, he was challenged by the sentinels on duty; no longer desirous of concealing himself, he called out in a loud voice, that he was “Chenguza Namdogy-yeng Praw;—Chenguza, lawful lord of the palace.” A conduct at once so unexpected and so resolute, struck the guards with astonishment, who, either overawed by his presence, or at a loss how to act for want of instructions, suffered him to proceed unmolested; the crowd, also, that so extraordinary a circumstance had by this time brought together, respectfully made way for him to pass. Scarcely had he reached the gate of the outer court of the palace, when he was met by the Attawoon, father of the princess whom he had so inhumanly slain; Chenguza, on perceiving him, exclaimed, “Traitor, I am come to take possession of my right, and wreak vengeance on mine enemies!” The Attawoon instantly snatched a sabre from an attendant officer, and at one stroke cut the unhappy Chenguza through the bowels, and laid him breathless at his feet. No person was found to prevent or avenge his death; he fell unlamented, as he had lived despised.[246] Such was the end of a monarch, accelerated, probably, by his own daring, which we cannot call heroism, but desperate madness.