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Chariot-driver

      Wet with drops of toil and languor, lo! a chariot-driver came,

       Loosely hung his scanty garments, and a staff upheld his frame,

      Karna, now a crownéd monarch, to the humble charioteer,

       Bent his head, still moist with water, as unto a parent dear!

      With his scanty cloth the driver sought his dusty feet to hide,

       And he hailed the gallant Karna as his son and as his pride,

      And he clasped unto his bosom crownéd Karna's noble head,

       And on Karna's dripping forehead, fresh and loving tear-drops shed!

      Is he son of chariot-driver? Doubts arose in Bhima's mind,

       And he sought to humble Karna with reproachful words unkind:

      “Wilt thou, high-descended hero, with a Kuru cross thy brand?

       But the goad of cattle-drivers better suits, my friend, thy hand!

      Wilt thou as a crownéd monarch rule a mighty nation's weal?

       As the jackals of the jungle sacrificial offerings steal!”

      Quivered Karna's lips in anger, word of answer spake he none,

       But a deep sigh shook his bosom, and he gazed upon the sun!

      IX

      Close of the Day

      Like a lordly tusker rising from a beauteous lotus lake,

       Rose Duryodhan from his brothers, proudly thus to Bhima spake:

      “With such insults seek not, Bhima, thus to cause a warrior grief,

       Bitter taunts but ill befit thee, warlike tiger-waisted chief!

      Proudest chief may fight the humblest, for like river's noble course,

       Noble deeds proclaim the warrior, and we question not their source!

      Teacher Drona, priest and warrior, owns a poor and humble birth,

       Kripa, noblest of Gautamas, springeth from the lowly earth!

      Known to me thy lineage Bhima, thine and of thy brothers four,

       Amorous gods your birth inspiréd, so they say, in days of yore!

      Mark the great and gallant Karna decked in rings and weapons fair,

       She-deer breeds not lordly tigers in her poor and lowly lair!

      Karna comes to rule the wide earth, not fair Anga's realms alone,

       By his valour and his weapons, by the homage which I own!

      And if prince or arméd chieftain doth my word or deed gainsay,

       Let him take his bow and quiver, meet me in a deadly fray!”

      Loud applauses greet the challenge and the people's joyful cry,

       But the thickening shades of darkness fill the earth and evening sky,

      And the red lamp's fitful lustre shone upon the field around,

       Slowly with the peerless Karna proud Duryodhan left the ground.

      Pandu's sons with warlike Drona marked the darksome close of day,

       And with Kripa and with Bhishma homeward silent bent their way.

      “Arjun is the gallant victor!” “Valiant Karna's won the day!”

       “Prince Duryodhan is the winner!” Various thus the people say.

      By some secret sign appriséd Pritha knew her gallant boy,

       Saw him crownéd king of Anga, with a mother's secret joy,

      And with greater joy Duryodhan fastened Karna to his side,

       Feared no longer Arjun's prowess, Arjun's skill of arms and pride,

      E'en Yudhishthir reckoned Karna mightiest warrior on the earth,

       Half misdoubted Arjun's prowess, Arjun's skill and warlike worth!

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      (The Bride's Choice)

      The mutual jealousies of the princes increased from day to day, and when Yudhishthir, the eldest of all the princes and the eldest son of the late Pandu, was recognised heir-apparent, the anger of Duryodhan and his brothers knew no bounds. And they formed a dark scheme to kill the sons of Pandu.

      The sons of Pandu were induced with their mother to pay a visit to a distant town called Varanavata. A house had been built there for their residence, constructed of inflammable materials. At the appointed time fire was set to the house; but the five brothers and their mother escaped the conflagration through a subterranean passage, retired into forests, and lived in the disguise of Brahmans.

      In course of time they heard of the approaching celebrations of the marriage of the princess of Panchala, an ancient kingdom in the vicinity of modern Kanouj. All the monarchs of Northern India were invited, and the bride would choose her husband from among the assembled kings according to the ancient Swayamvara custom. The five sons of Pandu decided to go and witness the ceremony.

      The portion translated in this Book formed Sections clxxxiv. to cxxxix. of Book i. of the original text.

      I

      Journey to Panchala

      Now the righteous sons of Pandu, wand'ring far from day to day,

       Unto South Panchala's country glad and joyful held their way,

      For when travelling with their mother, so it chanced by will of fate,

       They were met by pious Brahmans bound for South Panchala's State,

      And the pure and holy Brahmans hailed the youths of noble fame,

       Asked them whither they would journey, from what distant land they came.

      “From the land of Ekachakra,” good Yudhishthir answered so,

       “With our ancient mother travelling unto distant lands we go.”

      “Heard ye not,” the Brahmans questioned, “in Panchala's fair domain,

       Drupad, good and gracious monarch, doth a mighty feast ordain?

      To that festive land we journey, Drupad's bounteous gifts to share,

       And to see the swayamvara of Panchala's princess fair—

      Human mother never bore her, human bosom never fed,

       From the Altar sprang the maiden who some noble prince will wed!

      Soft her eyes like lotus-petal, sweet her tender jasmine form,

       And a maiden's stainless honour doth her gentle soul inform!

      And her brother, mailed and arméd with his bow and arrows dire,

       Radiant as the blazing altar, sprang from Sacrificial Fire!

      Fair the sister slender-waisted, dowered with beauty rich and rare,

       And like fragrance of blue lotus, perfumes all the sweetened air!

      She will choose from noble suitors gathered from the west and east,

       Bright and fair shall be the wedding, rich and bounteous be the feast!

      Kings

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