C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Faithfulness of Yudhisthira
By Sir Edwin Arnold (1832–1904)
T
Not looking back,—nay, not for Bhima’s sake,—
But walking with his face set for the mount;
And the hound followed him,—only the hound.
Sâkra shone forth, the God, filling the earth
And heavens with thunder of his chariot-wheels.
“Ascend,” he said, “with me, Pritha’s great son!”
But Yudhisthira answered, sore at heart
For those his kinsfolk, fallen on the way:—
“O Thousand-eyed, O Lord of all the gods,
Give that my brothers come with me, who fell!
Not without them is Swarga sweet to me.
She, too, the dear and kind and queenly,—she
Whose perfect virtue Paradise must crown,—
Grant her to come with us! Dost thou grant this?”
Thy kinsman and the Queen—these will attain—
And Krishna. Grieve no longer for thy dead,
Thou chief of men! their mortal covering stripped,
These have their places: but to thee the gods
Allot an unknown grace; Thou shalt go up,
Living and in thy form, to the immortal homes.”
Who know’st what was, and is, and is to be,
Still one more grace! This hound hath ate with me,
Followed me, loved me: must I leave him now?”
Deathless, divine; thou art become a god;
Glory and power and gifts celestial,
And all the joys of heaven are thine for aye:
What hath a beast with these? Leave here thy hound.”
O, Thousand-eyed and wisest! can it be
That one exalted should seem pitiless?
Nay, let me lose such glory; for its sake
I cannot leave one living thing I loved.”
And into Swarga such shall enter not.
The Krodhavasha’s wrath destroys the fruits
Of sacrifice, if dogs defile the fire.
Bethink thee, Dharmaraj; quit now this beast!
That which is seemly is not hard of heart.”
A suppliant equals in offense to slay
A twice-born; wherefore, not for Swarga’s bliss
Quit I, Mahendra, this poor clinging dog,—
So without any hope or friend save me,
So wistful, fawning for my faithfulness;
So agonized to die, unless I help
Who among men was called steadfast and just.”
Where a dog passeth; angry angels sweep
The ascending smoke aside, and all the fruits
Of offering, and the merit of the prayer
Of him whom a hound toucheth. Leave it here!
He that will enter heaven must enter pure.
Why didst thou quit thy brethren on the way,
And Krishna, and the dear-loved Draupadí,
Attaining, firm and glorious, to this Mount
Through perfect deeds, to linger for a brute?
Hath Yudhisthira vanquished self, to melt
With one poor passion at the door of bliss?
Stay’st thou for this, who didst not stay for them,—
Draupadí, Bhima?”
But the King yet spake:—
“’Tis known that none can hurt or help the dead.
They, the delightful ones, who sank and died,
Following my footsteps, could not live again
Though I had turned,—therefore I did not turn;
But could help profit, I had stayed to help.
There be four sins, O Sâkra, grievous sins:
The first is making suppliants despair,
The second is to slay a nursing wife,
The third is spoiling Brahmans’ goods by force,
The fourth is injuring an ancient friend.
These four I deem not direr than the crime,
If one, in coming forth from woe to weal,
Abandon any meanest comrade then.”
Vanished the hound, and in its stead stood there
The Lord of Death and Justice, Dharma’s self!
Sweet were the words which fell from those dread lips,
Precious the lovely praise:—“O thou true King,
Thou that dost bring to harvest the good seed
Of Pandu’s righteousness; thou that hast ruth
As he before, on all which lives!—O son!
I tried thee in the Dwaita wood, what time
They smote thy brothers, bringing water; then
Thou prayedst for Nakula’s life—tender and just—
Nor Bhima’s nor Arjuna’s, true to both,
To Madri as to Kunti, to both queens.
Hear thou my word! Because thou didst not mount
This car divine, lest the poor hound be shent
Who looked to thee, lo! there is none in heaven
Shall sit above thee, King!—Bhârata’s son!
Enter thou now to the eternal joys,
Living and in thy form. Justice and Love
Welcome thee, Monarch! thou shalt throne with us.”