Drona priest and great preceptor, saintly Kripa true and brave,
Kuru's monarch Dhrita-rashtra, may the gods thy empire save!
Good Vidura true and faithful, may thy virtue serve thee well!
Warlike sons of Dhrita-rashtra, let me bid you all farewell!”
So he spake unto his kinsmen, wishing good for evil done,
And in silent shame they listened, parting words they uttered none!
Pained at heart was good Vidura, and he asked in sore distress:
“Arya Pritha, will she wander in the pathless wilderness?
Royal-born, unused to hardship, weak and long unused to roam,
Agéd is thy saintly mother, let fair Pritha stay at home.
And by all beloved, respected, in my house shall Pritha dwell,
Till your years of exile over, ye shall greet her safe and well.”
Answered him the sons of Pandu: “Be it even as you say,
Unto us thou art a father, we thy sacred will obey,
Give us then thy holy blessings, friend and father, ere we part,
Blessings from the true and righteous brace the feeble, fainting heart.”
Spake Vidura, pious-hearted: “Best of Bharat's ancient race,
Let me bless thee and thy brothers, souls of truth and righteous grace!
Fortune brings no weal to mortals who may win by wicked wile,
Sorrow brings no shame to mortals who are free from sin and guile!