This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1866 Excerpt: ...desperate deed, and listening with the tenderest compassion to her wild shrieks and passionate exclamations. "My son! my son!" she cried; "brave as a lion in the field, mild and gentle as a dove beneath the plam-leaved roof of thy father's cot; beautiful as the young Camdeo, and wise as the favourite friend of Vishnoo; ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1866 Excerpt: ...desperate deed, and listening with the tenderest compassion to her wild shrieks and passionate exclamations. "My son! my son!" she cried; "brave as a lion in the field, mild and gentle as a dove beneath the plam-leaved roof of thy father's cot; beautiful as the young Camdeo, and wise as the favourite friend of Vishnoo; the parched and thirsty earth drinks thy heart's blood, the vulture's red eye already marks thee for its prey. No more shall thy fleet steps follow the deer, and thy sure matchlock carry death to the panther! No more shalt thou bring home the shaggy skin of the lion in triumph to those who rejoiced in thy valour! Oh! too revengeful goddess! will nothing avail, neither prayers nor offerings, to move thee to be merciful? Must all I prize beneath yon glorious orb be doomed to a miserable death to satisfy thy vengeance? Will not a mother's cries be heard? Will not the red hand be stayed--the insatiable sword be arrested, by those just powers who see that the measure of my grief is full, and that this torn and burdened heart can endure its agony no longer? The penalty of my disobedience has been paid with the lives of six, for that one which my trembling hands refused to sacrifice; and will nought appease thee, thou too vindictive deity! nothing suffice to atone for the maternal weakness, the fond and strong affection, which could not immolate at thy tremendous altar the loved one, the first born, the welcome guest, who gave the sweet assurance that the curse of barrenness had been removed? Could my hand snap the tender thread of my smiling, my first, my only babe's existence 1 Could my lip devote the innocent to instant and most awful destruction?--No! no!--and on me then let the punishment be inflicted. Let my life pay the forfeit...
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