'"My hair shall remain dishevelled from this day, until Bhima shall have slain Duhsasana and drank his blood; and then he shall tie up my hair again whilst his hands are dripping with the blood of Duhsasana."'
Such was the great gambling match at Hastinapur in the heroic age of India. It appears there can be little doubt of the truth of the incident, although the verisimilitude would have been more complete without the perpetual winning of the cheat Sakuni—which would be calculated to arouse the suspicion of Yudhishthira, and which could scarcely be indulged in by a professional cheat, mindful of the suspicion it would excite.
Throughout the narrative, however, there is a truthfulness to human nature, and a truthfulness to that particular phase of human nature which is pre-eminently manifested by a high-minded race in its primitive stage of civilization.
To our modern minds the main interest of the story begins from the moment that Draupadi was lost; but it must be remembered that among that ancient people, where women were chiefly prized on sensual grounds, such stakes were evidently recognized.
The conduct of Draupadi herself on the occasion shows that she was by no means unfamiliar with the idea: she protested—not on the ground of sentiment or matrimonial obligation—but solely on what may be called a technical point of law, namely, 'Had Yudhishthira become a slave before he staked his wife upon the last game?' For, of course, having ceased to be a freeman, he had no right to stake her liberty.
The concluding scene of the drama forms an impressive figure in the mind of the Hindoo. The terrible figure of Draupadi, as she dishevels her long black hair, is the very impersonation of revenge; and a Hindoo audience never fails to shudder at her fearful vow—that the straggling tresses shall never again be tied up until the day when Bhima shall have fulfilled his vow, and shall then bind them up whilst his fingers are still dripping with the blood of Duhsasana.
The avenging battle subsequently ensued. Bhima struck down Duhsasana with a terrible blow of his mace, saying,—'This day I fulfil my vow against the man who insulted Draupadi!' Then setting his foot on the breast of Duhsasana, he drew his sword, and cut off the head of his enemy; and holding his two hands to catch the blood, he drank it off, crying out, 'Ho! ho! Never did I taste anything in this world so sweet as this blood.'
This staking of wives by gamblers is a curious subject. The practice may be said to have been universal, having furnished cases among civilized as well as barbarous nations. Of course the Negroes of Africa stake their wives and children; according to Schouten, a Chinese staked his wife and children, and lost them; Paschasius Justus states that a Venetian staked his wife; and not a hundred years ago certain debauchees at Paris played at dice for the possession of a celebrated courtesan. But this is an old thing. Hegesilochus, and other rulers of Rhodes, were accustomed to play at dice for the honour of the most distinguished ladies of that island—the agreement being that the party who lost had to bring to the arms of the winner the lady designated by lot to that indignity.(18)
(18) Athen. lib. XI. cap. xii.
There are traditions of such stakes having been laid and lost by husbands in England; and a remarkable case of the kind will be found related in Ainsworth's 'Old Saint Paul's,' as having occurred during the Plague of London, in the year 1665. There can be little doubt that it is founded on fact; and the conduct of the English wife, curiously enough, bears a striking resemblance to that of Draupadi in the Indian narrative.