MONTHLY UEV1LW OF LITERATURE. 211 



My sire, a Brahmin hermit he my mother was of Sudra race/ 



So spake the wounded boy, on me while turned his unreproaching face. 



As from his palpitating breast I gently drew the mortal dart 



He saw me trembling stand, and blest that boy's pure spirit seemed to part. 



As died the holy hermit's son from me my glory seemed to go." 



Dasaratha tells how he took up the vessel of the slain boy, and seeks the 

 abode of the bereaved parents. As he approaches their dwelling, the blind 

 old couple mistake his footsteps for those of Yajnadatta, whom the father 

 most affectionately proceeds to chide for his delay : 



" ' Long on the river's pleasant brink hast thou been sporting in thy joy : 

 Thy mother's fainting spirits sink in fear for thee. But thou, my boy, 

 If aught to grieve thy gentle heart thy mother or thy sire do wrong, 

 Bear with us, nor when next we part on the slow way thus linger long.' " 



The king continues : I, " My 



" Throat thick swollen with bursting tears my powers of speech that 

 seemed to choke," 



with quivering voice, recounted to them the fatal accident that had happened, 

 and described the last moments of their beloved son. 



" The fatal shaft when forth I drew to heaven his parting spirit soared, 

 Dying he only thought of you long, long, your lonely lot deplored." 



The father heard the dreadful tale and stood all lifeless, motionless ; then 

 deeply groaning, and gathering strength, thus addressed me, the suppliant, 

 who sued for his pardon : 



" ' Kshatriya, 'tis well that thou hast turned thy deed of murder to rehearse, 

 Else over all thy land had burned the fire of my wide wasting curse. 

 If with premeditated crime the offending blood thou'dst spilt, 

 The Thunderer on his throne sublime had shaken at such tremendous guilt ; 

 Against the anchorite's sacred head hadst knowing aimed thy shaft accurs'd, 

 In th' holy Vedas deeply read thy skull in seven wide rents had burst. 

 But since, unwitting, thou hast wrought that deed of death, thou livest still, 

 Oh, son of Raghu, from thy thought dismiss all dread of instant ill.'" 



The parents now pray to be led by the unwitting murderer to the doleful 

 spot where their son had fallen, that they may once more enfold in their arms 

 his gory corpse. Bitter lamentations do they here pour forth. 



" Nor sooner did they feel him lie on the moist herbage coldly thrown, 

 Both with a shrill and feeble cry upon the body cast them down. 

 The mother, as she lay and groaned addressed her boy with quivering tongue, 

 And like an heifer sadly moaned just plundered of the new-dropped young." 



The father breaks out too into a strain of the tenderest grief, mingling with 

 his sorrows heart-torn exclamations of their utter destitution, and running 

 over, with pathetic minuteness, all the little offices which Yajnadatta was in 

 the habit of performing for them. But their woes are consoled by a super- 

 natural comforter. 



" So groaning deep, that wretched pair the hermit and his wife essayed 

 The meet ablution to prepare their hands their last faint effort made. 

 Divine, with glorious body bright in splendid car of heaven elate, 

 Before them stood their son in light and thus consoled their helpless state : 

 ' Meed of my duteous filial care I've reached the wished-for realms of joy; 

 ' And ye, in those glad realms, prepare to meet full soon your dear-loved 

 boy. 



