I broke my bow in two and burnt my arrows in
the fire. I hated my strong, lithe arm, scored by drawing the
bowstring. O Love, god Love, thou hast laid low in the dust the
vain pride of my manlike strength; and all my man's training lies
crushed under thy feet. Now teach me thy lessons; give me the
power of the weak and the weapon of the unarmed hand.
Madana
I will be thy friend. I will bring the world-conquering Arjuna a
captive before thee, to accept his rebellion's sentence at thy
hand.
Chitra
Had I but the time needed, I could win his heart by slow degrees,
and ask no help of the gods. I would stand by his side as a
comrade, drive the fierce horses of his war-chariot, attend him
in the pleasures of the chase, keep guard at night at the
entrance of his tent, and help him in all the great duties of a
Kshatriya, rescuing the weak, and meting out justice where it is
due. Surely at last the day would have come for him to look at
me and wonder, "What boy is this? Has one of my slaves in a
former life followed me like my good deeds into this?" I am not
the woman who nourishes her despair in lonely silence, feeding it
with nightly tears and covering it with the daily patient smile,
a widow from her birth.
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