Then they went to the temple of the Goddess Durga, and having paid their devotions and asked the favor of the deity on behalf of the King, Vira-vara struck off the head of his son, and laid it as an offering upon the shrine.
But the task had been too great for the Rajpoot. “Life without my boy is something I cannot bear to think of,” said he; “my service to the King is now ended.” Thereupon he plunged his sword into his own breast, and fell dead.
The sight of her husband and son, both lying dead at her feet, was too much for the grief-stricken mother, so she seized the blood-stained weapon, and with it slew herself.
Now all this was seen and heard by King Sudraka, who was just entering the gate of the temple, but so quickly did it happen, that he was unable to stop it. He hastened to where the bodies lay, and exclaimed: “Woe is me!”
Kings may come, and kings may go;
What was I to bring these low?
Souls so noble, slain for me,
Were not, and will never be!
Sorrowful indeed was he as he gazed upon the remains of his three faithful subjects. “Having lost these,” he said, “what do I care for myself or my kingdom.” Then he drew his scimitar, intending to take his own life.
But at that moment there appeared to him the Goddess, who is mistress of all men’s fortunes. She stayed his uplifted hand, and said: