274 Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal. [N.S., XIII, 



kacha as Messenger " and ' The Breaking of the Thigh/' form a 

 tragical trilogy. I might call them " A Tragedy of Pride." It 

 has its parallel in the Sophoclean *' King Oedipus." The 

 central figure is Duryodhana, the hero of the Kauravas. Proud 

 of his power and elated by success, he thinks himself justified to 

 violate the laws of humanity and to scorn the reverence due to 

 the gods. In the " Message " he revels in memories of Drau- 

 padi's shame and the five Pandu brothers' humiliation. He 

 illtreats Krishna who comes as an ambassador from the Panda- 

 vas with an offer of peace. He does not hesitate to lure the boy 

 Abhimanyu, his own nephew, into miserable death. It is true 

 he acts chiefly under the influence of the evil genius of the 

 Kauravas, Shakuni the king of Gandhara. But still the guilt is 

 his. And finally he is slain by Bhima who uses foul play and 

 wounds him mortally under the waist with his mace, smashing 

 Durvodhana's thighs. The dving hero is alone on the vast 

 battlefield. Face to face with death, he sees the wickedness and 

 folly of pride. He understands that it is a crime to cause war 

 and bloodshed ; he implores Balarama, who wishes to avenge 

 him, to desist from further useless murder. 



Dhritarashtra, his blind father, and his mother Gandhari, 

 his two queens and his little son Durjaya, search for him on the 

 vast battlefield. Durjaya, who is tired, catches hold of his 

 grandfather's clothes. 



Dhritarashtra. Who is this ? Who is pulling my clothes 

 to show me the way ? 



Durjaya. That is me, grand-daddy, Durjaya. 



Dhritarashtra. Durjaya, my child, search for your father ! 



Durjaya. But I am so tired. 



Dhritarashtra. Go, you will rest on your father's lap. 



Durjaya. I'll go/ grand -daddy. {Searching) Daddy! 

 Daddy ! Where are you ? 



Duryodhana. Aias, why has he come ? 



My love to him has always been my heart's 

 Most cherished joy, whatever fate befell me. 

 This love is scorching now my soul like fire. 

 He has remained in bli Tul ignorance 

 Of pain and grief, my Durjaya, my son, 



Who was so fond of nestling on my knees, 

 What will he call his wretched father now, 

 Beholding him thus dying and prostrate ? 



Durjaya. Ah, there is the king ; he is sitting on the ground. 

 Duryodhana. Why have you come, my son ? 

 Durjaya. They say, vou are letting us wait. 

 Duryodhana {aside). Oh, how the love to mv son hurts 

 mow I am in this misery. 



Durjaya. I want to sit on vou. daddy, mav I ? {trying to 



chmb on him). 



