Fortunate was your father, as I now regard, for he truly reaped the fruit of his asceticism, and he was gifted with foresight, as he entertained the wish of ascending heaven, without having to feel any pain on account of his sons.  Fortunate also was the virtuous Madri, as I regard her today, who had, it seems, a fore-knowledge of what would happen and who on that account, obtained the high path of emancipation and every blessing therewith.  All, Madri looked upon me as her stay, and her mind and her affections were ever fixed on me.  Oh, fie on my desire of life, owing to which suffer all this woe.  Ye children, ye are all excellent and dear unto me.  I have obtained you alter much suffering.  I cannot leave you.  Even I will go with you.  Alas, O Krishna, (Draupadi), why dost thou leave me so?  Everything endued with life is sure to perish.  Hath Dhata (Brahma) himself forgotten to ordain my death?  Perhaps, it is so, and, therefore, life doth not quit me.  O Krishna, O thou who dwellest in Dwaraka, O younger brother of Sankarshana, where art thou?  Why dost thou not deliver me and these best of men also from such woe?  They say that thou who art without beginning and without end deliverest those that think of thee.  Why doth this saying become untrue.  These my sons are ever attached to virtue and nobility and good fame and prowess.  They deserve not to suffer affliction.  Oh, show them mercy.  Alas, when there are such elders amongst our race as Bhishma and Drona and Kripa, all conversant with morality and the science of worldly concerns, how could such calamity at all come?  O Pandu, O king, where art thou?  Why sufferest thou quietly thy good children to be thus sent into exile, defeated at dice?  O Sahadeva, desist from going.  Thou art my dearest child, dearer, O son of Madri, than my body itself.  Forsake me not.  It behoveth thee to have some kindness for me.  Bound by the ties of virtue, let these thy brothers go.  But then, earn thou that virtue which springeth from waiting upon me.’”

Vaisampayana continued,—­“The Pandavas then consoled their weeping mother and with hearts plunged in grief set out for the woods.  And Vidura himself also much afflicted, consoling the distressed Kunti with reasons, and led her slowly to his house.  And the ladies of Dhritarashtra’s house, hearing everything as it happened, viz., the exile (of the Pandavas) and the dragging of Krishna into the assembly where the princes had gambled, loudly wept censuring the Kauravas.  And the ladies of the royal household also sat silent for a long time, covering their lotus-like faces with their fair hands.  And king Dhritarashtra also thinking of the dangers that threatened his sons, became a prey to anxiety and could not enjoy peace of mind.  And anxiously meditating on everything, and with mind deprived of its equanimity through grief, he sent a messenger unto Vidura, saying, ‘Let Kshatta come to me without a moment’s delay.’

“At this summons, Vidura quickly came to Dhritarashtra’s palace.  And as soon as he came, the monarch asked him with great anxiety how the Pandavas had left Hastinapore.”