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224 CRADLE TALES OF HINDUISM with the flapping of their wings. Prince as he was and soldier, my son lies slain by Bhima, even as the elephant may be slain by the lion. Behold Thou him; O Krishna, lying on the bare ground yonder, stained with his own gore, slain in battle by the club of Bhima ! Not long since, beheld I the earth, full of elephants and cattle and horses, ruled by Duryodhana without a rival. To-day do I behold her destitute of creatures, and ruled by another.

fragments, at the sight of these my beloved slain in battle ? What sin have I and these other weeping daughters of men, committed, that Time should have brought upon us this disaster?"
 * Ah, why breaketh not my heart into a hundred

Passing then from the contemplation of Duryod- hana and the sons of her ow^n household, the mourning chant of the Queen proceeded. Dwelling upon each hero in turn, Gandhari passed the whole history of the battle in review. Again and again, her mind took note of the impossibility of having stayed the great catastrophe at any point. Again and again she dwelt on the inevitableness of fate. Every now and then would her sobs break out afresh, '< How early, O Blessed One, how early, have all these my sons been utterly consumed 1 "

The voice of Gandhari failed and broke, and she ceased for a moment from the wildness of her