Maha-Bharata Epic of the Bharatas

Posted by admin_akashic on Oct 20th, 2022 in Space

[243] Live thou in this Kuru household, do the Kuru princes’ will,
Serve them as thy lords and masters, with thy beauty please them still,

Fair One! seek another husband who in foolish reckless game
Will not stake a loving woman, will not cast her forth in shame!

For they censure not a woman, when she is a menial slave,
If her woman’s fancy wanders to the young and to the brave,

For thy lord is not thy husband, as a slave he hath no wife,
Thou art free with truer lover to enjoy a wedded life,

They whom at the swayamvara, thou had’st chose, Panchala’s bride,
They have lost thee, sweet Draupadi, lost their empire and their pride!”

Bhima heard, and quick and fiercely heaved his bosom in his shame,
And his red glance fell on Karna like a tongue of withering flame,

Bound by elder’s plighted promise Bhima could not smite in ire,
Looked the painted form of Anger flaming with an anguish dire!

“King and elder!” uttered Bhima, and his words were few and brave,
“Vain were wrath and righteous passion in the sold and bounden slave,

Would that son of chariot-driver fling on us this insult keen,
Hadst thou, noble king and elder, staked nor freedom nor our queen?”

Sad Yudhishthir heard in anguish, bent in shame his lowly head,
Proud Duryodhan laughed in triumph, and in scornful accents said:

“Speak, Yudhishthir, for thy brothers own their elder’s righteous sway,
Speak, for truth in thee abideth, virtue ever marks thy way,

Hast thou lost thy new-built empire and thy brothers proud and brave,
Hast thou lost thy fair Draupadi, is thy wedded wife our slave?”

Lip nor eye did move Yudhishthir, hateful truth might not deny,
Karna laughed, but saintly Bhishma wiped his old and manly eye.

[244] Madness seized the proud Duryodhan, and inflamed by passion base,
Sought the prince to stain Draupadi with a deep and dire disgrace,

On the proud and peerless woman cast his wicked lustful eye,
Sought to hold the high-born princess as his slave upon his knee!

Bhima penned his wrath no longer, lightning-like his glance he flung,
And the ancient hall of Kurus with his thunder accents rung:

“May I never reach those mansions where my fathers live on high,
May I never meet ancestors in the bright and happy sky,

If that knee, by which thou sinnest, Bhima breaks not in his ire,
In the battle’s red arena with his weapon, deathful, dire!”

Red fire flamed on Bhima’s forehead, sparkled from his angry eye,
As from tough and gnarléd branches fast the crackling red sparks fly!

IV. Dhrita-rashtra’s Kindness

Hark! within the sacred chamber, where the priests in white attire
With libations morn and evening feed the sacrificial fire,

And o’er sacred rights of homa Brahmans chant their mantra high,
There is heard the jackal’s wailing and the raven’s ominous cry!

Wise Vidura knew that omen, and the Queen Gandhari knew,
Bhishma muttered “svasti! svasti!” at this portent strange and new,

Drona and preceptor Kripa uttered too that holy word,
Spake her fears the Queen Gandhari to her spouse and royal lord.

Dhrita-rashtra heard and trembled with a sudden holy fear,
And his feeble accents quavered, and his eyes were dimmed by tear:

“Son Duryodhan, ever luckless, godless, graceless, witless child,
Hast thou Drupad’s virtuous daughter thus insulted and reviled,

[245] Hast thou courted death and danger, for destruction clouds our path,
Can an old man’s soft entreaties still avert this sign of wrath?”

Slow and gently to Draupadi was the sightless monarch led,
And in kind and gentle accents unto her the old man said:

“Noblest empress, dearest daughter, good Yudhishthir’s stainless wife,
Purest of the Kuru ladies, nearest to my heart and life,

Pardon wrong and cruel insult and avert the wrath of Heaven,
Voice thy wish and ask for blessing, be my son’s misdeed forgiven!”

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