And Yudhi-sthira said: "More than was well the goodly things of earth Pleased thee, my pleasant brother! Light the offence And large thy spirit; but the o'erfed soul Plumed itself over others. Pritha's son, For this thou fallest, who so near didst gain."
Thenceforth alone the long-armed monarch strode, Not looking back,--nay, not for Bhima's sake,-- But walking with his face set for the Mount; And the hound followed him,--only the hound.
After the deathly sands, the Mount! and lo! Sakra shone forth,--the God,--filling the earth And Heavens with the thunders of his chariot wheels. "Ascend," he said, "with me, Pritha's great son!" But Yudhi-sthira answered, sore at heart For those his kinsfolk, fallen on the way: "O Thousand-eyed, O Lord of all the gods, Give that my brothers come with me, who fell! Not without them is Swarga sweet to me. She too, the dear and kind and queenly,--she Whose perfect virtue Paradise must crown,-- Grant her to come with us! Dost thou grant this?"
The God replied: "In Heaven thou shalt see Thy kinsmen and the Queen--these will attain-- And Krishna. Grieve no longer for thy dead, Thou chief of men! their mortal coverings stripped, These have their places; but to thee, the gods Allow an unknown grace: thou shalt go up, Living and in thy form, to the immortal homes."
But the King answered: "O thou wisest One, Who know'st what was, and is, and is to be, Still one more grace! This hound hath ate with me, Followed me, loved me; must I leave him now?"
"Monarch," spake Indra, "thou art now as we,-- Deathless, divine; thou art become a god; Glory and power and gifts celestial, And all the joys of heaven are thine for aye: What hath a beast with these? Leave here thy hound."
Yet Yudhi-sthira answered: "O Most High, O Thousand-Eyed and Wisest! can it be That one exalted should seem pitiless? Nay, let me lose such glory: for its sake I cannot leave one living thing I loved."
Then sternly Indra spake: "He is unclean, And into Swarga such shall enter not. The Krodhavasha's wrath destroys the fruits Of sacrifice, if dog defile the fire. Bethink thee, Dharmaraj; quit now this beast! That which is seemly is not hard of heart."
Still he replied: "'Tis written that to spurn A suppliant equals in offence to slay A twice-born; wherefore, not for Swarga's bliss Quit I, Mahendra, this poor clinging dog,-- So without any hope or friend save me. So wistful, fawning for my faithfulness; So agonized to die, unless I help Who among men was called steadfast and just."