True to his promise, Vāsudeva brought unto the prince his first-born, a
son.
The prince, on seeing that Vāsudeva was true to his compact to deliver
his son as it was born, gave it back, saying: "It is not this son that I
fear, but he who will be born thine eighth one it is ordained shall slay
me. So take back thy first-born, Vāsudeva. Of him there is naught to
fear."
Vāsudeva took the little one, and putting it in the glad arms of the
young mother, said: "O princess! It is with joy and yet with great
foreboding that I return to thee the babe, for there is that in my heart
which tells me that the prince, thy brother, spoke not the truth when
thy boy he gave back unto me, for fear lodged in his eye and anger
vibrated in his voice even as he said, 'From thy first-born no harm will
come unto me.' Yet clasp him to thy heart, young mother, and bathe him
in thy glad tears of love while he resteth on thy breast."
But even while the tender young mother crooned her love-songs to her
soft nestling, the cruel edict went forth that the babe was to be taken
from her, as also each new-born man-child that came into the land, for,
as a blighting flash from the clouds that strikes the healthy young
sapling at the root, there had come to Kangsa's fear-burdened mind the
knowledge that in his former birth he had been dethroned and slain by
one of his own kin, who was said to have come from on high even to still
the power of the wicked and exalt the lowly and virtuous.
This in all its weight had come into his heart, and louder than the
bolts of thunder the voice he had heard on Devaki's wedding-day seemed
to throb in his brain, as he saw Vāsudeva depart with his first-born
son. And great were the lamentations of the mothers who gave birth unto
sons in that land. Many departed from the kingdom where Kangsa, the
destroyer of the young, did rule.
But when the wailing of the new-born child was no longer heard in all
that kingdom, the prince in his madness deposed his father, Ugrasen, and
became himself the King and thrust Devaki, his sister, and Vāsudeva into
the dungeon of his palace, where the six sons that were born to them
were dashed to death on the flagged floor in the hour of their coming by
Kangsa himself.
And now again there was quickening in the womb of Devaki, and the joy of
natural motherhood was overshadowed by the terror of the fate of the new
life that was to be a babe. But groundless was the fear of the agonized
mother, for his coming was even before his time; for the earth sent a
mist thick as the garment of death to shroud the palace of the King, and
a deep sleep on the gaolers fell on the hour that the child of premature
birth felt the breath of earth, and drowned were its first weak wails by
the sound of the winds that shrieked without.
And the child that came to the world too soon, even before his time was
completed, was despatched in great haste to one who suckled him and
called him her own. The child that by the near hand of love was saved
from the hand of frenzied murder was the child that would walk with the
Lord of Love and play with the Soul of the Universe.
And when the mists were gone, the King marvelled that no child had come,
while the mother marvelled at the goodness of Him who was the Author of
Life.