Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/15

Of this great anger? Who hath given thee pain?
He that hath vexed thee hath despised thy sire,
For in these veins thou hast the royal blood.'

Thus conjured, Dhruva, with a swelling heart,
Repeated to his mother every word
That proud Suruchee spake, from first to last,
Even in the very presence of the King.

His speech, oft broken by his tears and sobs,
Helpless Suneetee, languid—eyed from care,
Heard sighing deeply, and then soft replied:
'O son, to lowly fortune thou wert born,
And what my co-wife said to thee is truth:
No enemy to Heaven's favoured ones may say
Such words as thy step-mother said to thee.
Yet, son, it is not meet thou should'st grieve
Or vex thy soul. The deeds that thou hast done,
The evil, haply, in some former life,
Long, long ago, who may alas! annul,
Or who the good works not done, supplement!
The sins of previous lives must bear their fruit.
The ivory throne, the umbrella of gold,
The best steed, and the royal elephant
Rich caparisoned, must be his by right
Who has deserved them by his virtuous acts
In times long past. Oh, think on this, my son,
And be content. For glorious actions done
Not in this life, but in some previous birth,
Suruchee by the monarch is beloved.
Women, unfortunate like myself, who bear
Only the name of wife without the powers,
But pine and suffer for our ancient sins.
Suruchee raised her virtues pile on pile:
Hence Uttama her son, the fortunate!
Suneetee heaped but evil: hence her son