Part 25 (1/2)

Then in gentler voice Vidura sought his pensive mind to tell, From his lips serene and softly words of woe and anguish fell:

”Not for thee I grieve, Duryodhan, slain by vengeance fierce and keen, For thy father weeps my bosom and the aged Kuru queen!

Sons and grandsons, friends and kinsmen slaughtered in this fatal war, Homeless, cheerless, on this wide earth they shall wander long and far!

Friendless, kinless, on this wide earth whither shall they turn and fly?

Like some bird bereft of plumage, they shall pine awhile and die!

Of their race and sad survivors, they shall wander o'er the earth, Curse the fatal day, Duryodhan, saw thy sad and woeful birth!”

IX

Dhrita-rashtra's Speech

Tear-drops filled his sightless eyeb.a.l.l.s, anguish shook his aged frame, As the monarch soothed Duryodhan by each fond endearing name:

”Listen, dearest son, Duryodhan, shun this dark and fatal strife, Cast not grief and death's black shadows on thy parents' closing life!

Krishna's heart is pure and spotless, true and wise the words he said, We may win a world-wide empire with the n.o.ble Krishna's aid!

Seek the friends.h.i.+p of Yudhishthir, loved of righteous G.o.ds above, And unite the scattered Kurus by the lasting tie of love!

Now at full is tide of fortune, never may it come again, Strive and win! or ever after all repentance may be vain!

Peace is righteous Krishna's counsel, and he offers loving peace, Take the offered boon, Duryodhan! Let all strife and hatred cease!”

X

Duryodhan's Speech

Silent sat the proud Duryodhan, wrathful in the council hall, Spake to mighty-armed Krishna and to Kuru warriors all:

”Ill becomes thee, Dwarka's chieftain, in the paths of sin to move, Bear for me a secret hatred, for the Pandavs secret love!

And my father, wise Vidura, ancient Bhishma, Drona bold, Join thee in this bitter hatred, turn on me their glances cold!

What great crime or darkening sorrow shadows o'er my bitter fate, That ye chiefs and Kuru's monarch mark Duryodhan for your hate?

Speak, what nameless guilt or folly, secret sin to me unknown, Turns from me your sweet affection, father's love that was my own?

If Yudhishthir, fond of gambling, played a heedless, reckless game, Lost his empire and his freedom, was it then Duryodhan's blame?

And if freed from shame and bondage in his folly played again, Lost again and went to exile, wherefore doth he now complain?

Weak are they in friends and forces, feeble is their fitful star, Wherefore then in pride and folly seek with us unequal war?

Shall we, who to mighty INDRA scarce will do the homage due, Bow to homeless sons of Pandu and their comrades faint and few?