(Vaka-vadha Parva)

"Janamejaya asked, 'O first of Brahmanas, what did the Pandavas, those
mighty car-warriors, the sons of Kunti, do after arriving at Ekachakra?'

"Vaisampayana said, 'Those mighty car-warriors, the sons of Kunti, on
arriving at Ekachakra, lived for a short time in the abode of a Brahmana.
Leading an eleemosynary life, they behold (in course of their wanderings)
various delightful forests and earthly regions, and many rivers and
lakes, and they became great favourites of the inhabitants of that town
in consequence of their own accomplishments. At nightfall they placed
before Kunti all they gathered in their mendicant tours, and Kunti used
to divide the whole amongst them, each taking what was allotted to him.
And those heroic chastisers of foes, with their mother, together took one
moiety of the whole, while the mighty Bhima alone took the other moiety.
In this way, O bull of Bharata's race, the illustrious Pandavas lived
there for some time.

"One day, while those bulls of the Bharata race were out on their tour of
mendicancy, it so happened that Bhima was (at home) with (his mother)
Pritha. That day, O Bharata, Kunti heard a loud and heart-rending wail of
sorrow coming from within the apartments of the Brahmana. Hearing the
inmates of the Brahmana's house wailing and indulging in piteous
lamentations, Kunti, O king, from compassion and the goodness of her
heart, could not bear it with indifference. Afflicted with sorrow, the
amiable Pritha, addressing Bhima, said these words full of compassion.
'Our woes assuaged, we are, O son, living happily in the house of this
Brahmana, respected by him and unknown to Dhritarashtra's son. O son, I
always think of the good I should do to this Brahmana, like what they do
that live happily in others' abodes! O child, he is a true man upon whom
favours are never lost. He payeth back to others more than what he
receiveth at their hands. There is no doubt, some affliction hath
overtaken this Brahmana. If we could be of any help to him, we should
then be requiting his services.'

"Hearing these words of his mother, Bhima said, 'Ascertain, O mother the
nature of the Brahmana's distress and whence also it hath arisen.
Learning all about it, relieve it I will however difficult may the task
prove.'

"Vaisampayana continued 'While mother and son were thus talking with each
other, they heard again, O king, another wail of sorrow proceeding from
the Brahmana and his wife. Then Kunti quickly entered the inner
apartments of that illustrious Brahmana, like unto a cow running towards
her tethered calf. She beheld the Brahmana with his wife, son and
daughter, sitting with a woeful face, and she heard the Brahmana say,
'Oh, fie on this earthly life which is hollow as the reed and so
fruitless after all which is based on sorrow and hath no freedom, and
which hath misery for its lot! Life is sorrow and disease; life is truly
a record of misery! The soul is one: but it hath to pursue virtue, wealth
and pleasure. And because these are pursued at one and the same time,
there frequently occurs a disagreement that is the source of much misery.
Some say that salvation is the highest object of our desire. But I
believe it can never be attained. The acquisition of wealth is hell; the
pursuit of wealth is attended with misery; there is more misery after one
has acquired it, for one loves one's possessions, and if any mishap
befalls them, the possessor becomes afflicted with woe. I do not see by
what means I can escape from this danger, nor how I can fly hence, with
my wife to some region free from danger. Remember, O wife, that I
endeavoured to migrate to some other place where we would be happy, but
thou didst not then listen to me. Though frequently solicited by me,
thou, O simple woman, said to me, 'I have been born here, and here have I
grown old; this is my ancestral homestead.' Thy venerable father, O wife,
and thy mother also, have, a long time ago, ascended to heaven. Thy
relations also had all been dead. Oh why then didst thou yet like to live
here? Led by affection for thy relatives thou didst not then hear what I
said. But the time is now come when thou art to witness the death of a
relative. Oh, how sad is that spectacle for me! Or perhaps the time is
come for my own death, for I shall never be able to abandon cruelly one
of my own as long as I myself am alive. Thou art my helpmate in all good
deeds, self-denying and always affectionate unto me as a mother. The gods
have given thee to me as a true friend and thou art ever my prime stay.
Thou hast, by my parents, been made the participator in my domestic
concerns. Thou art of pure lineage and good disposition, the mother of
children, devoted to me, and so innocent; having chosen and wedded thee
with due rites, I cannot abandon thee, my wife, so constant in thy vows,
to save my life. How shall I myself be able to sacrifice my son a child
of tender years and yet without the hirsute appendages (of manhood)? How
shall I sacrifice my daughter whom I have begotten myself, who hath been
placed, as a pledge, in my hands by the Creator himself for bestowal on a
husband and through whom I hope to enjoy, along with my ancestors, the
regions attainable by those only that have daughters' sons? Some people
think that the father's affection for a son is greater; others, that his
affection for a daughter is greater, mine, however, is equal. How can I
be prepared to give up the innocent daughter upon whom rest the regions
of bliss obtainable by me in after life and my own lineage and perpetual
happiness? If, again, I sacrifice myself and go to the other world, I
should scarcely know any peace, for, indeed, it is evident that, left by
me these would not be able to support life. The sacrifice of any of these
would be cruel and censurable. On the other hand, if I sacrifice myself,
these, without me, will certainly perish. The distress into which I have
fallen is great; nor do I know the means of escape. Alas, what course
shall I take today with my near ones. It is well that I should die with
all these, for I can live no longer.'"