BOOK I.
DRAUPADÎ’S REMONSTRANCE.
SENT in hermit’s guise to spy How Kuru’s monarch ruled his men, A forester, his task performed, Yudhishthir met in Dvaita’s glen.
He bowed and spoke, nor pained his bosom Of the foeman’s rule to tell, “Nor seek those men with accents false To please our ear who wish us well.
“Great monarchs see but through their spies, And spies should ne’er deceive their lord; Forgive my speech if plain or pleasing, Seldom true is honied word!
“False friend! who teaches not his king, False king! who hears not what they tell; Where king and friends in truth agree, Fortune’s favours love to dwell!
“We foresters are simple men, And hard a king’s designs to trace; And if thy foeman’s plans I ken, ’Tis by thy kindness, by thy grace! (6)
“Seated on his throne he trembles At thee,—dwelling in the wood! The realm he won by trick of dice He rules by righteous laws and good.
“Deep in wiles, he would surpass thee In his fame for righteousness; Better far to war with true men Than to consort with the base!
“His passions veiled, by Manu’s laws He seeks the virtuous path to tread; By night and day his task dividing, Seeks a righteous fame to spread.
“He treats his menials as his friends, And as his kinsmen friends withal; Veiling his wrath he seeks to prove How conquering love rules over all!
“With love impartial, equal care, He cultivates all virtues well; And by his worth all varied virtues In harmonious concert dwell!
“His kindness never lacks in gifts, His gifts with courteous manners flow, And his courtesy and his favours Only men of virtue know.
“Not for wealth and not in anger, Ever seeking righteous cause, On his foe or on his children Visits sins with equal laws.
“Placing trusty guards around him, Ever wears a fearless mien; And wealth bestowed at sacrifices Speaks his gratitude to men.
“And by careful thought devised, His plans, with steady toil pursued, Open out a prosperous future, And conjointly lead to good! (15)
“Cars and horses of great chieftains Throng his palace court around; Tuskers sent by mighty monarchs With their perfume[^1] moist the ground.
“And Kuru’s lands are rich in harvests Ripening without tiller’s toil; Ask no rain, since Kuru’s monarch Showers his blessings on the soil.
“His bounteous and his peaceful rule To plenty and to wealth give birth; Attracted by his godlike worth Spontaneous yields her wealth the earth!
“Mighty chiefs, by wealth attracted, Warriors famed in many a strife, Against their monarch never murmur, Serve his cause even with their life!
“His task performed, by trusty heroes He learns the plans of other kings; His secret plan is only known, Like Heaven’s designs, by fruits it brings!
“His bow is never strung nor raised, Nor doth a frown his face o’erspread; His kindly rule the chieftains cherish Like a garland on their head!
“Strong in his rule, he now hath placed Duhsâsan[^2] young in kingly power; With offerings due, in holy rites, By Indra told, he worships Fire!
“His foes are quelled, his future glorious, And his realm extends to sea; But strife with great men ends in sorrow,— And Duryodhan quakes at thee!
“If thy name is spoke in converse, Quakes at Arjun’s might of arm, Bends in grief his anguished forehead, Like a snake by Mantra’s charm!
“Prepared he is to do thee battle; Take then, lord, precautions meet; I gather words by others spoken,— With which, I lay them at thy feet.” (25)
And paid, the woodman went away, In gifts Yudhishthir honoured well; His kinsmen and his brothers gathered, And his proud wife,—he told the tale.
She heard the tale of foemen’s glory, Thought of wrongs which they had done, And to rouse her husband’s anger Drupad’s daughter thus began. (27)
“Counsel to a saintly monarch Is rebuke from woman weak; But ignoring woman’s duty, Pardon if my feelings speak!
“Of thy race the godlike monarchs Held their rule o’er all this land; But as tuskers hurl their garlands, Thou hast hurled it from thy hand!
“Weak are they who with the wily Deal not with responding wile; For like shafts on mail-less warriors, Artful foemen on them steal!
“Glory, in thy race begotten, Won by valour, dear as wife, Who but thee such glory forfeits, Girt by warriors tried in strife? (31)
“Godlike man! now sadly treading Paths despised by proud and free, Doth not raging wrath consume thee Even as flames the sapless tree?
“Men spontaneous yield to heroes Who in might subdue all ills, For an all-forgiving creature Love nor friend nor foeman feels!
“Sandal decked great Bhîma’s person! Dusty, now, he roams the hills! Scarce I know, O soul of virtue! If my lord compassion feels!
“Arjun, conquering northern nations, To the poor all treasures gave! God-like Arjun, clad in wild barks, Doth he thy compassion move?
“Does my lord in patience witness Yonder twins,[^3] so great, so good?— Dwelling uncouth in this forest Even like tuskers of the wood!
“Scarce I guess thy feelings, monarch, Strange and various are our hearts, But the thought of thy great sorrow Cruel grief to me imparts.
“Erst you slept on couches sumptuous, Waked to hear the song of praise; Now on thorny earth reclining, Hear the sound the jackals raise!
“Erst on rice by Brâhmans tasted, Lived my lord of handsome frame; Now he lives on forest produce, Thin and pale even like his fame!
“On his feet, on jewels resting, Wreaths of kings their pollen dropped; Now they stray in forest jungle, By the deer or Brâhmans cropped.[^4]
“And thy brothers, full of passion, Thoughts like these have in their heart; Sufferings at the present hour Blight the glory of their part!
“Then spurn this sloth, assume thy prowess, Dire destruction quick devise; Hermits saintly, not proud monarchs, Ever-during patience prize!
“If great kings, whose wealth is glory, Brook such insults meekly borne, Fame and chivalry are banished, Honour’s value is but scorn!
“If forgiveness thou wilt cherish, Quelling pride and noble ire, Leave this bow of royal glory, Plait thy locks and worship fire!
“Plighted faith with faithless foemen Should not fetter thee for shame? Artful monarchs bent on conquest Fasten on their foes the blame.
“Fettered by oath, and pale thou art, Of power bereft, on seas of pain? Arise, O king! thy mighty fame, As wakes the sun, night’s darkness tame!”