It was difficult to forget that, and therefore our
inequalities rankled in my heart. At midnight
the moon is never jealous of the noonday sun.
But the struggle to share one horizon between both
orbs cannot last forever. Thank heaven, that
struggle is over, and we have at last won solitude
in glory.
The mean jealousy!
Jealousy is never mean—it is in the essence
of greatness. Grass can grow in crowded amity,
not giant trees. Stars live in clusters, but the
sun and moon are lonely in their splendour. The
pale moon of the Pandavas sets behind the forest shadows,
leaving the new-risen sun of the Kauravas to rejoice.
But right has been defeated.
Right for rulers is not what is right in the eyes
of the people. The people thrive by comradeship:
but for a king, equals are enemies. They are
obstacles ahead, they are terrors from behind.
There is no place for brothers or friends in a king’s
polity; its one solid foundation is conquest.
I refuse to call a conquest what was won by fraud
in gambling.
A man is not shamed by refusing to challenge a tiger
on equal terms with teeth and nails. Our weapons
are those proper for success, not for suicide.
Father, I am proud of the result and disdain regret
for the means.
But justice——
Fools alone dream of justice—success is
not yet theirs: but those born to rule rely on
power, merciless and unhampered with scruples.
Your success will bring down on you a loud and angry
flood of detraction.
The people will take amazingly little time to learn
that Duryodhana is king and has power to crush calumny
under foot.
Calumny dies of weariness dancing on tongue-tips.
Do not drive it into the heart to gather strength.
