Was Dhruva. Seated on his throne, the King
Uttanapado, on his knee one day
Had placed Uttama; Dhruva, who beheld
His brother in that place of honour, longed
To clamber up and by his playmate sit;
Led on by Love, he came, but found, alas!
Scant welcome and encouragement; the King
Saw fair Suruchee sweep into the hall
With stately step, aye, every inch a queen,
And dare not smile upon her co-wife's son.
Observing him, her rival's boy, intent
To mount ambitious to his father’s knee,
Where sat her own, thus fair Suruchee spake:
'Why hast thou, child, formed such a vain design?
Why harboured such an aspiration proud,
Born from another's womb and not from mine?
O thoughtless! To desire the loftiest place,
The throne of thrones, a royal father's lap!
It is an honour to the destined given,
And not within thy reach. What, though thou art
Born of the King? those sleek and tender limbs
Hold of my blood no portion; I am Queen.
To be the equal of mine only son
Were in thee vain ambition. Know'st thou not,
Fair prattler, thou art sprung, not, not from mine,
But from Suneetee's bowels? Learn thy place.'
Repulsed in silence from his father's lap,
Indignant, furious, at the words that fell
From his step-mother's lips, poor Dhruva ran
To his own mother's chambers, where he stood
Beside her with his pale, thin, trembling lips,
(Trembling with an emotion ill-suppressed,)
And hair in wild disorder, till she took
And raised him to her lap, and gently said:
'O child, what means this? What can be the cause
Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/14
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xiv
PREFATORY MEMOIR.
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