no reverence for Issara,
And Indra is to him a fairy tale.
He grudgeth to the gods a sacrifice
And sheddeth tears at immolated lambs.
Oh no! he's not religious. If he were,
His ills could easily be cured by faith,
By confidence in Issara, the Lord.

_S._ What then is your opinion of the case?

_V._ Siddhattha is a youth of rarest worth,
And he surpasseth men in every virtue
Except in one.--He is too independent:
He recognizeth no authority,
Neither of men nor gods. He suffereth
[_More and more impressively_]
From the incurable disease of thought.

_S._ Cure thought with thought, teach him philosophy,
Show him the purpose of our holy writ.
Instruct him in the meaning of the Vedas,
Reveal to him their esoteric sense.

_V._ My lord, I did, but he is critical,
He makes objections and will not believe.
He raises questions which I cannot answer,
And his conclusions are most dangerous.

_P._ It seems to me that you exaggerate;
Siddhattha is not dangerous. He is
As gentle as my sister was, his mother,
And almost overkind to every one.

_V._ I know, my gracious lady, but e'en kindness
May harmful be, if it is out of place.

_S._ I see no danger in his gentle nature.

_V._ But he lacks strength, decision, warlike spirit.

_S._ That cometh with maturer years.

_V._ I doubt it:
Your son, my Lord, not only hath no faith
In holy writ, neither does he believe
In caste-distinction, and he would upset
The sanctioned order of our institutions.
He would abolish sacrifice and holdeth
The Brahman ritual in deep contempt.

_S._ Your words alarm me.

_V._ Rightly so; I fear
That he will stir the people to rebellion;
But since a child is born to him, his mind
May turn from dreams to practical affairs.
There are some men who care not for themselves,
Who scorn high caste, position, wealth and honor,
So far as they themselves may be concerned,
But they are anxious for their children's fortune,
And so Siddhattha soon may change his views.

_S._ Let us be patient for a while yet longer.
Keep everything unpleasant out of sight,
Invite him merry company. Remove
His gloomy cousin Devadatta. He tries
To reach a state of bliss by fasts,
His very play is penance and contrition.

_P._ Ananda is a better boon companion,
He is not so morose as Devadatta.

_S._ Neither is he the right friend for my son.
I grant he has a loving disposition,
But he is pensive too. Surrou