Section LXXVIII

Vaisampayana said,—'Then when Draupadi was about to set out she went unto the illustrious Pritha and solicited her leave. And she also asked leave of the other ladies of the household who had all been plunged into grief. And saluting and embracing every one of them as each deserved, she desired to go away. Then there arose within the inner apartments of the Pandavas a loud wail of woe.

And Kunti, terribly afflicted upon beholding Draupadi on the eve of her journey, uttered these words in a voice choked with grief,—

'O child, grieve not that this great calamity has overtaken you. You are well conversant with the duties of the female sex, and your behaviour and conduct also are as they should be. It behoves me not, O you of sweet smiles, to instruct you as to your duties towards your lords.

You are chaste and accomplished, and your qualities have adorned the race of your birth as also the race into which you have been admitted by marriage. Fortunate are the Kauravas that they have not been burnt by your wrath.

O child, safely go you blest by my prayers. Good women never suffer their hearts to the unstung at what is inevitable. Protected by virtue that is superior to everything, soon shalt you obtain good fortune. While living in the woods, keep your eye on my child Sahadeva. See that his heart sinks not under this great calamity.'

"Saying ’so be it!' the princess Draupadi bathed in tears, and clad in one piece of cloth, stained with blood, and with hair dishevelled left her mother-in-law. And as she went away weeping and wailing Pritha herself in grief followed her. She had not gone far when she saw her sons shorn of their ornaments and robes, their bodies clad in deerskins, and their heads down with shame.

And she beheld them surrounded by rejoicing foes' and pitied by friends. Endued with excess of parental affection, Kunti approached her sons in that state, and embracing them all, and in accents choked by woe, She said these words,—

"You are virtuous and good-mannered, and adorned with all excellent qualities and respectful behaviour. You are all high-minded, and engaged in the service of your superiors. And you are also devoted to the gods and the performance of sacrifices.

Why, then, has this calamity overtaken you. Whence is this reverse of fortune? I do not see by whose wickedness this sin has overtaken you.

Alas I have brought you forth. All this must be due to my ill fortune. It is for this that you have been overtaken by this calamity, though you all are endued with excellent virtues. In energy and prowess and strength and firmness and might, you are not wanting.

How shall you now, losing your wealth and possessions, live poor in the pathless woods? If I had known before that you were destined to live in the woods, I would not have on Pandit’s death come from the mountains of Satasringa to Hastinapore.

Fortunate was your father, as I now regard, for he truly reaped the fruit of his asceticism, and he was gifted with foresight, as he entertained the wish of ascending heaven, without having to feel any pain on account of his sons.

Fortunate also was the virtuous Madri, as I regard her today, who had, it seems, a fore-knowledge of what would happen and who on that account, obtained the high path of emancipation and every blessing therewith. All, Madri looked upon me as her stay, and her mind and her affections were ever fixed on me.

Oh, fie on my desire of life, owing to which suffer all this woe. You children, you are all excellent and dear unto me. I have obtained you alter much suffering. I cannot leave you. Even I will go with you.

Alas, O Krishna, (Draupadi), why dost you leave me so? Everything endued with life is sure to perish. Has Dhata (Brahma) himself forgotten to ordain my death? Perhaps, it is so, and, therefore, life does not quit me.

O Krishna, O you who dwellest in Dwaraka, O younger brother of Sankarshana, where art you?

Why dost you not deliver me and these best of men also from such woe? They say that you who art without beginning and without end deliverest those that think of you.

Why does this saying become untrue. These my sons are ever attached to virtue and nobility and good fame and prowess. They deserve not to suffer affliction. Oh, show them mercy.

Alas, when there are such elders amongst our race as Bhishma and Drona and Kripa, all conversant with morality and the science of worldly concerns, how could such calamity at all come?

O Pandu, O king, where art you? Why sufferest you quietly your good children to be thus sent into exile, defeated at dice?

O Sahadeva, desist from going. You are my dearest child, dearer, O son of Madri, than my body itself.

Forsake me not. It behoves you to have some kindness for me. Bound by the ties of virtue, let these your brothers go. But then, earn you that virtue which springs from waiting upon me.'"

Vaisampayana continued,—"The Pandavas then consoled their weeping mother and with hearts plunged in grief set out for the woods. And Vidura himself also much afflicted, consoling the distressed Kunti with reasons, and led her slowly to his house. And the ladies of Dhritarashtra’s house, hearing everything as it happened, viz., the exile (of the Pandavas) and the dragging of Krishna into the assembly where the princes had gambled, loudly wept censuring the Kauravas.

And the ladies of the royal household also sat silent for a long time, covering their lotus-like faces with their fair hands. And king Dhritarashtra also thinking of the dangers that threatened his sons, became a prey to anxiety and could not enjoy peace of mind.

And anxiously meditating on everything, and with mind deprived of its equanimity through grief, he sent a messenger unto Vidura, saying,

'Let Kshatta come to me without a moment’s delay.'

"At this summons, Vidura quickly came to Dhritarashtra’s palace. And as soon as he came, the monarch asked him with great anxiety how the Pandavas had left Hastinapore."