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Sons and grandsons, loving princes, thou shalt never see again, Kinsmen brave and car-borne chieftains will bedeck the gory plain!
Ponder yet, O ancient monarch! Rulers of each distant State, Nations from the farthest regions gather thick to court their fate,
Father of a righteous nation! Save the princes of the land, On the armed and fated nations stretch, old man, thy saving hand!
Say the word, and at thy bidding leaders of each hostile race Not the gory field of battle, but the festive board will grace,
Robed in jewels, decked in garlands, they will quaff the ruddy wine, Greet their foes in mutual kindness, bless thy holy name and thine!
Think, O man of many seasons! When good Pandu left this throne, And his helpless loving orphans thou didst cherish as thine own,
'Twas thy helping steadying fingers taught their infant steps to frame, 'Twas thy loving gentle accents taught their lips to lisp each name,
As thine own they grew and blossomed, dear to thee they yet remain, Take them back unto thy bosom, be a father once again!
Unto thee, O Dhrita-rashtra! Pandu's sons in homage bend, And a loving peaceful message through my willing lips they send:
Tell our monarch, more than father, by his sacred stern command We have lived in pathless jungle, wandered far from land to land,
True unto our plighted promise, for we ever felt and knew, To his promise Dhrita-rashtra cannot, will not be untrue!
Years of anxious toil are over and of woe and bitterness, Years of waiting and of watching, years of danger and distress.
Like a dark unending midnight hung on us this age forlorn, Streaks of hope and dawning brightness usher now the radiant morn!
Be unto us as a father, loving not inspired by wrath, Be unto us as preceptor, pointing us the righteous path,
If perchance astray we wander, thy strong arm shall lead aright, If our feeble bosom fainteth, help us with a father's might!
This, O king! the soft entreaty Pandu's sons to thee have made, These are words the sons of Pandu unto Kuru's king have said,
Take their love, O gracious monarch! Let thy closing days be fair, Let Duryodhan keep his kingdom, let the Pandavs have their share.
Call to mind their n.o.ble suffering, for the tale is dark and long Of the outrage they have suffered, of the insult and the wrong!
Exiled into Varnavata, destined unto death by flame, For the G.o.ds a.s.sist the righteous, they with added prowess came!
Exiled into Indra-prastha, by their toil and by their might Cleared a forest, built a city, did the _rajasuya_ rite!
Cheated of their realm and empire and of all they called their own, In the jungle they have wandered and in Matsya lived unknown,
Once more quelling every evil they are stout of heart and hand, Now redeem thy plighted promise and restore their throne and land!
_Trust me, mighty Dhrita-rashtra! trust me, lords who grace this hall, Krishna pleads for peace and virtue, blessings unto you and all!_
_Slaughter not the armed nations, slaughter not thy kith and kin, Mark not, king, thy closing winters with the b.l.o.o.d.y stain of sin!_
_Let thy sons and Pandu's children stand beside thy ancient throne, Cherish peace and cherish virtue, for thy days are almost done!"_
VI
Bhishma's Speech
From the monarch's ancient bosom sighs and sobs convulsive broke, Bhishma wiped his manly eyelids and to proud Duryodhan spoke:
"Listen, prince! for righteous Krishna counsels love and holy peace, Listen, youth! and may thy fortune with thy pa.s.sing years increase!
Yield to Krishna's words of wisdom, for thy weal he n.o.bly strives, Yield and save thy friends and kinsmen, save thy cherished subjects' lives!
Foremost race in all this wide earth is Hastina's royal line, Bring not on them dire destruction by a sinful act of thine!
Sons and fathers, friends and brothers, shall in mutual conflict die, Kinsmen slain by dearest kinsmen shall upon the red field lie!
Hearken unto Krishna's counsel, unto wise Vidura's word, Be thy mother's fond entreaty and thy father's mandate heard!
Tempt not _devas'_ fiery vengeance on thy old heroic race, Tread not in the path of darkness, seek the path of light and grace!
Listen to thy king and father, he hath Kuru's empire graced, Listen to thy queen and mother, she hath nursed thee on her breast!"
VII
Drona's Speech
Out spake Drona priest and warrior, and his words were few and high, Clouded was Duryodhan's forehead, wrathful was Duryodhan's eye:
"Thou hast heard the holy counsel which the righteous Krishna said, Ancient Bhishma's voice of warning thou hast in thy bosom weighed,
Peerless in their G.o.dlike wisdom are these chiefs in peace or strife, Truest friends to thee, Duryodhan, pure and sinless in their life,
Take their counsel, and thy kinsmen fasten in the bonds of peace, May the empire of the Kurus and their warlike fame increase!
List unto thy old preceptor! Faithless is thy fitful star, False they feed with hopes thy bosom, those who urge and counsel war!
Crowned kings and armed nations, they will strive for thee in vain, Vainly brothers, sons, and kinsmen will for thee their life-blood drain,
For the victor's crown and glory never, never can be thine, Krishna conquers, and brave Arjun! mark these deathless words of mine!
I have trained the youthful Arjun, seen him bend the warlike bow, Marked him charge the hostile forces, marked him smite the scattered foe!
Fiery son of Jamadagni owned no greater, loftier might, Breathes on earth no mortal warrior conquers Arjun in the fight!
Krishna too, in war resistless, comes from Dwarka's distant sh.o.r.e, And the bright-G.o.ds quake before him whom the fair Devaki bore!
These are foes thou may'st not conquer, take an ancient warrior's word, Act thou as thy heart decideth, thou art Kuru's king and lord!"
VIII
Vidura's Speech
